#this is not how I usually am; I almost never impulse-buy anything let alone something this expensive

[kingdomoftyto]

2022 Dice Advent Calendar

Happy holidays, everyone! It's finally December, which means I can at last reveal something I started working on weeks ago: a handmade Advent Calendar full of nothing but gaming dice!

I prepared the whole thing as a surprise for the others in my household, but nearly all the dice are from blind-bags and were stuffed in the boxes in such a way that even I don't know for sure what we'll discover*!

I thought it'd be fun to document our haul here as each box is opened. I'll be tagging everything as #Dicemas2022. Can't wait to see what treasures fate (RNGesus?) chooses to bestow upon us! :)

* - I do know a FEW things ahead of time, but I'll leave exactly what and why as my little secrets until the time is right!

Links to each day's post:

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25

[gaitwae]

Whispers •||• Loki x Reader

Summary: You fall asleep to try and quell your stress, but nightmares only make your night worse. Impulsively, you do the only thing you can do.

Rating: PG for nightmares and initial angst. Fluff ending. I originally started drafting this around December. Uh. Here it is. Probably explains the bad mood board and the different formatting.

Tags: @make-me-imagine​ @thorfanficwriter​ @bwemph​ @myraiswack​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @loki-snape-our-hero​ @wolfish-trickster​ @lucywrites02​ @mostly-marvel-musings​ @winterfrostsarmy​ @superheroesandstardust​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @geekns​ @natandersonnla​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @megthemewlingquim​ @frostedgiant​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @thebookbakery​ @delightfulheartdream​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @the-emo-asgardian​ @amwolowicz​ @itscomplicatedx​ @sophlubbwriting​

+-+--

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice snarled, sharp-tongued and voilent. Long fingers gripped at your shoulders, turning you about, left and right, left and right. “What do you think you’re doing, loving a man who doesn’t care about you?” You felt your throat squeeze up. The voice laughed at your displeasure, clawing its hands down your neck to your shoulders once more, then at your waist. “What a fool you are, Y/N... he wouldn’t even remember you passing.”

“Let me go,” you asked, your own words quivering in comparison to the feral tone that growled in your ear. There was a dark chuckle, almost a real laugh, and the claws released you. Instead, the floor beneath you swiveled, causing you to face your attacker... your nightmare. His face was hidden in the darkness of your dreamscape.

“Are my whispers too real for you, darling?” the voice asked, the smile audible now. This figure was mocking you, now. “Then perhaps you should just... wake up, shouldn’t you? Wake up, silly girl.” With a howl, a crow of shrill laughter, he stepped into your vision, pushing you back against a wall. His breath smelled like tea and blood. His teeth gleamed in a dark, sickening sliver of light. “Who do I look like?” he asked you.

He pulled back, suddenly visible to you now. Your eyes wouldn’t look away. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. The face. The face was what scared you the most.

Loki’s face.

+-+--

You sat up with your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You felt like your chest would explode; tears raced down your face as you tried to catch your breath and calm your heart down. You needed something different, tonight. You hated yourself for even thinking it, but you needed a blanket... or a stuffed animal.... or someone’s arms. You needed something to hold onto. You felt so alone, here in the dark.

You hadn’t ever felt so unsafe in your own room before.

What had come over you?

“I hate this,” you mumbled. “I can’t believe I’m dreaming about him, again.” You shook your head, sniffing once or twice. Your hands were clammy. If your hair was long enough for it, it had been wetted by your tears. Your pillow had stains. Something about the reminder that Loki wasn’t human hurt you.

Why? It was the truth. You knew he wasn’t a good fit for you. You always knew. Yet, somehow, you couldn’t help the tearing heart beneath your breastbone. 

There was a soft knock on your door. “Y/N,” a female voice came. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, Nat,” you called. “I’m fine, now. You can come in.” You didn’t want her to come in right away, but your mouth was moving faster than your brain. All your wants had been concentrated on keeping this nightmare to yourself. 

Whispers of forgotten affections, whispers of stupid dreams that would never come to be were in your ear as you sat, gazing at your hands while Natasha came in and sat down on your bed. You rested against your friend.

“I heard screaming,” she whispered. She rubbed your arms gently. “I thought something had happened to you.”

“I had another dream about... about him,” you said, angry at yourself for admitting it. “I don’t know why I have nightmares about someone I love.”

“He’s pretty intimidating, I’ll give you that,” Natasha said, now putting her hands through your hair. “Why wouldn’t you be afraid of him? I mean, he threw Tony out a window one time.”

You laughed gently, her joke making you feel better. “Tony’s terrifying when he’s pissed off, yeah.” You were glad she didn’t say anything about you being a strong woman. Usually, out of everything you’d read online, strong women didn’t need to be afraid of anyone. For once, you were glad you could be intimidated by a person you admired rather than being too strong to be “scared of a man’s opinion.” 

It wasn’t like that. 

Loki wasn’t like that.

“You just have to figure out how to ignore the whispers in the back of your head, baby.” Nat set a hand on your arm comfortingly. She squeezed, the tension you held in your body leaving as your best friend stayed next to you.

You held your head in your hands. “I’m trying. I really am, but...”

“You had a nightmare. You should get him to comfort you. Get over the nightmare and win him over,” Natasha suggested. “I’d stay with you but --”

“But you’ve got to go,” you filled in. You sighed, nodding with understanding. “Steve taking you?”

“We’re going to see a midnight film. It’s romantic, I think.” She shrugged. “I’ll be back around two am.” She kissed your head. “If you need me to stay, I’ll cancel. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay. Okay, just go.” You swallowed. “I’ll try my best.” 

+-+-- 

“Loki?” a small voice came from the door. The god squeezed his eyes shut tightly, but sat up anyway.

“Y/N, do you have any idea what time it is, sweetheart? Are you cold? I can assure you,” he chuckled, lifting his legs off the bed, “solving that problem won’t be easy.” He balanced himself, then opened the door to see his dear little mortal. He stopped when his eyes adjusted.

Y/N was crying. 

“What in the Nine Realms...?” Loki scooped you up. “My dearest heart, what in the world could be on your mind? Has someone hurt you? Are you sick? Shall I go out and buy you something?” He pet your hair. He was trying his best not to fret. He hadn’t heard any continous shouting, no walls breaking, and no gunshots. But... now that he thought about it... “Why do you cry?”

“I had a nightmare,” you murmured. “It’s stupid, but I wanted to see you... Nat came in when she heard me.”

“What was the nightmare?” he asked, crawling into bed with you. “No nightmare is stupid.” 

You explained the horrors to him, and he patiently listened. He wiped your tears and stroked your cheek. 

“I see,” he hummed. “You see me as... what?” He was trying to keep his cool. He didn’t want to react the wrong way. Nightmares could be of anyone and anything; the dark whispers in one’s mind didn’t necessarily mean you thought of any person as evil. 

“You weren’t you,” you said. “Something was trying to look like you and convince me that I... I was wasting my time...” You ducked your head. You didn’t meet his gaze.

“Wasting your time?” he repeated.

It took you a while to answer. Loki was patient. “Because I’m in love with you.”

“You were scared because you’re in love with me?” he smiled, then laughed gently. Sleep was filling both your voices. You stopped crying. “Dearest, I thought we already knew our feelings for each other.”

“...you knew?”

“Of course, I knew. What kind of sweetheart would I be if I didn’t know? Have I done a bad job showing my affections?” His eyebrows drew together. “I’ll fix that.”

“No, I just... Humans don’t always exchange hugs and kisses and cuddling when they’re in love. Sometimes, it’s the need for physical contact, and I didn’t know if we were just... a thing... or if you wanted me to say something.”

“You silly humans!” he sighed. He kissed your cheek, your forehead. “I love you. There. Now, fret no more. I’ll battle your nightmares away.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Sleep. I’ll whisper lullabies in your ears as you drift.”

[secndlife]

[5:47pm]

"Do you want me to bring you anything?” You asked Soonyoung, phone glued to your ear, while grabbing a pack of rice from the shelf. You spent the afternoon running some errands, groceries being the last one of your tasks.

He thought about it for a second, “Kimchi?” Of course.

“I already ordered it from that small shop you like,” you informed him, eyes scanning your cart to check if you had all you needed.

“Oh, okay! I’ll pick it up to—ouch!” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. What was he doing?

“Stop moving and it won’t hurt!” You heard someone say in the background.

No. Not someone. Krys. Your chest automatically moved as you sighed. Soonyoung and Krys unsupervised never meant anything good. You stopped walking, standing still by the grain section.

“Soonyoung?” You asked, voice gentle. He hummed in response. “What is Krys doing there?” You had no idea what could she possibly be doing there on a Saturday evening. Weekends were, as she liked to call, Seokmin days. So when you heard her voice echoing through your apartment, your senses tingled.

Someone almost bumped at you, making it pretty clear you were in the way. You gave the young man an apologetic look, trying to focus now on whatever excuse Soonyoung was about to offer. “Nothing?” He sounded unsure. Shy, even. Like a child that’s about to get busted.

You rubbed your temples, “Krys is never doing nothing. Especially with you.” They were partners in crime.

“You’ll see when you get home?” Uncertainty, again.

Another long breath escaped you. “Can you just please don’t get slime on the ceiling like that one time?”

He laughed and you felt almost calm. Almost. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Should I be concerned?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“Will you not be concerned if I tell you there’s no reason to be concerned?”

Krys snorted in the background, “Of course she won’t. She doesn’t trust us!”

Your eyes went to the back of your head, “Hey! Can she hear me? If not, tell her to shut up.”

He ignored your banter, “Will you?”

You really wanted to say yes. No one would believe you, though. “No.”

Your boyfriend giggled, “Then be concerned and when you come home you’ll see it’s not a big deal and relax.”

“Just—”

“It’s not slime, and we won’t break anything, ok? Finish doing the groceries, and we’ll see you soon.”

You bit the insides of your cheek, “Do you promise there’s no sli—”

“Love you, bye.”

And then he hung up. Just like that. Plain and simple. You sighed dramatically, staring at the various types of rice in front of you, trying to come up with a scenario where the two of them are alone and doing something that wouldn’t end up in someone getting hurt or in a mess you’d have to fix. Nothing. You guessed you’d just have to go home and see with your own eyes.

The drive from the market to your apartment seemed long. Too long. You probably shouldn’t be this worried. Whatever the two of them were doing was most likely fixable. You’d just have to put on the big girl pants and manage it, like always.

It was just that they were one and the same. Both too impulsive, too often. You loved them despite and because of it. But it was also something that could give you massive headaches whenever they were left alone together.

When you put your keys in the lock, you let out one last breath before you were actually ready to face whatever was expecting you. As you moved the bags inside, you heard footsteps approaching you.

“Hi, bestie.” Krys said, with a sneaky smile across her lips.

You raised an eyebrow at her while closing the door behind you. “What did you do to my boyfriend this time?”

The woman huffed, “Can you stop acting as if I’m some sort of mastermind behind evil plans?”

“Aren’t you?” You said, walking inside, eyes quickly moving through the place in the hopes of finding Soonyoung and whatever mess they had made.

She chased after you, a hand reaching for your arm. “Am not. He is equally involved in everything.” You got confused by her grip, but didn’t really say anything, simply allowing her to drag you further into the living room. “Sit.”

“What for? Where is Soonyoung?” You were feeling agitated.

She somewhat managed to make you follow her orders, legs hitting the comfortable fabric of your couch. “Can you wait, please?”

You shook your head, “No. I want to know what you did.”

Krys rolled her eyes, “For the record, this was his idea. And stop being dramatic, you will actually thank me this time.”

“I doubt it,” you said with a laugh.

She ignored it, confidence very clear in her tone. “Close your eyes, I’ll go get your furry boyfriend.”

“He’s not a furry!”

“Yeah, yeah.” She stood there, facing you, waiting for you to do as you had been told. “C’mon, close them. Otherwise, I won’t bring the furry.”

It was your turn to huff, “Stop calling him that!” When you realized she wouldn’t bulge, you placed your hands over your eyes. “Fine.”

Krys smiled, triumphantly, “You’ll love this.” You could hear her walking away and, for some reason, your heart started beating faster.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” You heard Soonyoung ask her not long after. You guessed that wasn’t for you to hear, but he had never done a good job when it came to concealing words, anyway.

You figured she reassured him some other way as you didn’t hear her voice until she spoke to you again. “Okay, as much as I want to see your reaction, furry guy is too excited, so I think I’ll let you two enjoy this moment alone.”

“Did you buy him a tiger suit? Because if you did I swear—”

“I’ll wait for your thank you text.” You heard something that sounded like hands clapping, guessing they had just high-fived each other. Idiots. “Go get her.”

Not long after, you heard the door closing once again, taking that as your cue. “Soo? Can I—”

“No!” He said, perhaps a bit too loud, before you could move your hands.

“What’s going on?” You whined. “I’m getting worried.”

The man chuckled, “Getting?”

“Please, let me look.” You were practically begging now. A thousand scenarios had crossed your mind already, and you were going crazy at this point because you couldn’t really think of anything besides Krys buying him a goddamn tiger suit.

Soonyoung let out a breath in an attempt to ease his nervousness. This wasn’t that big of a deal. He was sure you’d love him anyway. Still, he really, really hoped you’d like it. He whispered, “You can look now.”

Your boyfriend had barely finished speaking when you started uncovering your eyes. You were met with something you weren’t expecting. He was smiling. Big. He looked different, too. It was almost as if your heart had skipped a beat. Words were failing you, so you struggled to manage mumbling something cohesive. “Oh!”

“Is it bad?” He pouted.

“What? No!” You said, truthfully. You then stood up, standing in front of him. “I guess I just thought it’d be something else.”

He chuckled, “You think too low of Krys and I.”

“I have my reasons.” You brushed your fingers through his hair. “You look amazing. Like, really fucking good.”

He was blond.

Could that even be considered blond? It was actually more leaning towards white and, if you looked at it close enough, there were subtle hints of purple on the background tone. Apparently, Krys came not long after you left earlier, bringing the necessary equipment to support Soonyoung in his newest decision. She always had his back. He said she bleached it and styled it before you came home, being well aware of how weak you were for side parted hair, and a couple of strands falling over his eyes Soonyoung.

“Do you like it?” He sounded timid. Almost as if he was too scared to ask. He was always the confident one. Still, when it came to you, Soonyoung was often like an insecure teenager that wanted nothing more but to impress his crush.

You nodded, “I love it.” You weren’t a big fan of blond men, always being the one to go for dark haired ones. Still, much like with many other things, Soonyoung was a decisive and welcoming change of opinion. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his went instinctively to one of the places he called home - your waist.

When you didn’t say anything for a bit, he took his chance to tease. “I see it made you speechless.”

You smiled, “It just kinda reminds me of the first picture I saw of you.”

Seeing Soonyoung with the same hairstyle he had when you were first introduced to his remarkable features, even if only through an Instagram post, gave you butterflies. It took you back to when you barely even knew who he was. To when you were, unknowingly, falling for his eyes for the first time. It felt new and, at the same time, familiar.

You took some time to just admire him. To take in how good he looked. To allow him to read, in your eyes, how much you loved him. To let your heart go back to its usual rhythm. To understand that, now, this was a different Soonyoung than the one you first saw on Doki’s phone. That this Soonyoung was as in love with you as you were with him. That this Soonyoung was as yours as you were his.

“I didn’t look this hot back then.” He said, lips curving in a smug smirk.

You laughed, “You definitely didn’t. I don’t know how, but you manage to look better and better every day.” Your fingers danced against the hair on his nape. “This just makes you even hotter.”

He pulled you closer, welcoming the sudden ego boost. “Hot enough for you to let me fuck you right here, right now?”

You stared into his eyes and felt something twist inside you. He raised his eyebrows as if he was waiting for a confirmation he could push you up against a wall and make you moan his name within minutes.

You smiled his favorite smile, face already mere millimeters away from his. “Yeah.”

While you were lost in his kisses and moans and bites, your phone was buzzing by your pocket.

[5:47pm] Krys: you’re only excused from not texting me thank you if you’re fucking your newly blond boyfriend :)

a/n: yes this is another mmf!soonyoung thing. am i still obsessed with this universe? yes. am i planning/writing another long ass fic about it? yes. will i post small drabbles that fit between the timeline for mmf 1 and 2 while i work on part 2? probably. anyway! when he first showed up blond recently i almost died bc i’m such a black haired supremacist and he was looking SO GOOD with the previous hair i was kinda bitter. but. now. you know. he knocked me down. he did that. he is so sexy. blond/white soonyoung is so sexy. so yeah! no explanation, just sexy blondish soonyoung. also, for the sake of writing, let’s pretend you can actually go from black to his current haircolor in a day without going bald. as usual,my askbox is always open even tho i now apparently suck at answering asks. sorry about that. I WILL WORK ON IT !!! yeah so! i hope you’ll enjoy it mwah

[krabstick32]

Your Hand in Marriage

Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

Synopsis: Headcanon/scenario for how Giyuu proposed...how he asked you to marry him...how he popped the question

Tags/warnings: There is slight mention of near-death, but yes, all fluff apart from that!! Also, this can be taken as modern or during canon timeline, whichever works really

a/n: again, thank you so much for requesting anon!! apologies for taking so long :((( i hope you like it though 🥺

LINK to the ask: Request by Anon

anyway, please enjoy!! <33

When he knew you were the one, marriage was always in the back of his mind

You made him yearn for something he feels like could never have

He dreamed of living a quiet, peaceful life with you, to build a warm home and a loving family

And he wanted it so badly

But he couldn’t

Not when he lived the life of a demon slayer—a pillar no less!—not when they were fighting a literal war against the demons who brought so much pain to him, to you, to so many people

He didn’t want his family grow in a world where demon exists

You two talked about this already

And you’ve both agreed that you’re all fine with not getting married even if both of you wanted it more than anything

Your jobs were dangerous—one wrong move could mean death

Both of you entered the corps knowing the consequences, and have made peace with that fact 

I mean, you were open to getting married to him

and as much as he loves you, a lot

He didn't want marriage if it only leads to you dying 

this man has experienced so much loss already, he can’t lose you too.

And you respected that. You didn’t care much for labels. 

Marriage was, in essence, just a piece of paper to prove your relationship, and you knew that you loved each other too much to let a mere document dictate your relationship. 

You don’t mind just staying as boyfriend and girlfriend, you’ll take whatever he’s willing to give

One day, on his way home (to you uwu), he passes by a jewelry store, and sees the ring

Now, Giyuu was never an impulsive buyer, but the ring was perfect.

He could clearly picture it on your left ring finger and—

Oops, he now has a ring in his pocket

It would either be a real classy ring—you know, the classic engagement ring with a yellow gold band and a sizable diamond in the middle

OR

A unique and pretty ring that reminds him of you—a ring designed with sapphires and diamonds. 

(only the best for u after all uwu)

We all know man´s rich enough for it

(giyuu is a pillar. he can literally afford to buy everyone in the corps this ring, and still have left over money to have a lifetime supply of salmon daikon if he wanted to.)

When he got home, his stupidly impulsive buy just dawned on him and u bet he was awkward with you until he found the sneakiest hiding spot for it

((it was hidden underneath a shingle on the roof—a little overkill honestly))

Anyway, all was normal

But Gods, everything changed when the fire nation attacked when you were called to the Butterfly Wing.

He was finishing up on a mission with another pillar, Shinazugawa, and four other slayers (ranked kinoe’s and kinoto’s) when they ran into an upper moon.

And surprisingly, all of these slayers came home, bruised and a lot bloody, but alive.

As you were listening to the report at the Ubuyashiki estate for a meeting, you were relieved to hear that—six demon slayers, all alive after an encounter with an upper moon!!—but when you heard the entire report, your stomach dropped in dread and you dead-ass sprinted out the door to go straight into the butterfly wing.

(You can apologize to the Oyakata-sama later though he was a second away from shooing you out the door)

Because Giyuu—

Giyuu was there 

Your stupid, brave, lovable Giyuu,

Threw himself in front of his fellow slayers to take the brunt of the hit with lull, and so very nearly died when he got hit by the demon’s blood art.

It worked though, because now, the demon got distracted, giving the others ample time to deal with the minions

Once Sanemi and the others were able to lop its head off, the kakushi arrived promptly and rushed everyone back to the butterfly estate.

He woke up after a week. That was the extent of the damage brought to him by that near fatal blow.

First thing he saw was you

You were sound asleep right by his bed, slouched over the visitor’s chair in a position Giyuu knew was anything but comfortable. He was quick to note the dark circles under your eyes, briefly wondering how long you were there. You looked a little cold, so he moved to place the extra blanket from his bedside over you, but you immediately stir when you felt the slightest movement.

“Giyuu? Sweetheart, are you…?”

Seeing him awake felt like a huge bucket of water was poured over you. Any trace of sleep was gone from your body—you were wide awake in a flash, relieved and grateful that he was alive.

“Hello—“ His voice was a little raspier than either of you liked, but yours however, was fine, and healthy enough to to speak your mind. 

“You dumbass!” You hiss, throwing him a light glare.“Do you know how worried I was? How scared I was? I thought I was going to lose you!”

“I’m sorry.” He says, and squirms slightly under your gaze. He would’ve looked away, but he’s missed you a lot. Wasting a few seconds from cowering in slight shame and a little fear would be unbecoming of a Pillar.

“Don’t say sorry!” You were trying so hard to look stern and mad, but having the love of your life nearly taken away from you? You nearly lost him—all you wanted was to just touch him, and never let him go.

Tears start slipping down your eyes before you could stop yourself. Without a word, you wrap your arms over his neck, nearly straddling him as you buried your face in his neck. You try to memorize how his body felt against yours, clinging to him like your life depended on it—and in a way, it did. 

“You!—don’t ever do that to me again!” You cry, being mindful of his injuries as you hold him tighter. Neither of you make mention of how his hospital clothes were starting to grow damp. “If you die and leave me alone, I swear to the gods—!” 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, because what else can he say? He wasn’t aware of how close he was to losing you, until he woke up from the week-long coma. He made you sad, and worry over him, and he never wants to see you cry ever again. He brings you closer against his chest, and says a silent thank you to whatever god let him live. 

“You better be!” You mumble.

“I am. I missed you.” He drops his head against your shoulder, and holds you tighter against him.

Still mindful of his injuries, you return his hug tenfold. “I missed you too.”

Neither of you let go until Shinobu and Aoi dropped by to clean and redress his wounds. 

Afterwards though neither of you left each other’s side (I mean, it’s not like Giyuu could, but you get my point), 

Anyway, even if one of the butterfly girls or even Shinobu came in to give him meds—

He would always be touching you

Holding pinkies, even holding hands, which was a surprising, since he wasn’t much for PDA.

Another surprising fact was that Shinobu would only tease him no more than eight times per visit, when she would usually tease him nonstop.

You didn’t leave him for the entire week he needed to recover, unless it was for a mission (Oyakata-sama was very kind in giving you lighter, and easier missions—easy for you, hard for lower ranked slayers)

That night, you definitely stayed in his room (one of the pillars was kind enough to take over your patrol. it was Mitsuri), and slept right by his side. 

As you slept, he watches the careful rise and fall of your chest. 

You looked so peaceful that he starts daydreaming about what could be—a future with you.

His near death experience made him realize that if he didn’t marry you, it would be one of the greatest mistakes of his life.

You taught him to live life to its fullest, to live without regrets

And he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t get to call you his wife, even if it was just for a day.

The demons have taken so much from him already—his sister, his best friend

They’ve already taken too much

He’s not going to let the demons take away any more of his happiness

SO YES

This was the moment he finally decided to ask you to be his wife.

took him long enough

Giyuu knew that he wasn’t the best at communication

And he was really worried about you not wanting to marry him anymore. It’s been a while since that conversation after all

He wanted things to be as clear as spring water before even popping the question

So he decides to ask you.

He brings you out to the engawa and sits there with you, enjoying the night breeze and the view

You’d look very pretty under the moonlight and aaaaa

He wonders how he ever managed to control himself from asking you to marry him earlier 

Because right now

Giyuu has half the mind to just beg you to marry him 

He brings it up bluntly carefully,

“...How do you feel about marrying me?”

He brought it up bluntly.

You’re used to it though (you didn’t even bat an eyelash—what a champ), so you take it in stride.

“What I said before still stands, sweetheart. I would love nothing more than to be your wife, but if you’re not ready—“

“I am.”

Your neck almost snaps with how fast your head turns to look at Giyuu. He wasn’t far, just a few inches of space between your bodies, but you could feel his comforting warmth, and could clearly see his expression despite it being night.

“Are you serious?” You knew he was—Giyuu never was the type to joke—but you couldn’t help but ask. You knew he loved you, you knew he wanted to be with you for as long as possible, but him asking to marry you? Both of you talked about this, and you respected what he wanted and his reasons behind it, so whatever this was? It all felt too good to be true that you wanted to pinch yourself.

“Yes.” Giyuu carefully takes your hands and uses his thumb to trace soothing circles onto the skin of your palm. “If you’re fine with someone like me...” He places his forehead on top of yours and your heart just...picks up the pace. You’re sure he could hear how fast it was beating, while you’re made aware of the fact that your eyes were starting to get teary because everything looked so blurry. 

“Marry me, (F/N)?”

Him wanting to know if you still wanted a marriage with him, turned into an actual proposal

But neither of you minded

It felt perfect

You burst into a loud, giddy laugh, the happy smile on your lips wide enough to reach your ears. The tears start spilling over as you nod your head vigorously, repeating the word “Yes!” like it was the only word you could say.

Giyuu’s mouth curls into the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen on him, and continues to grow each time you ‘yes’. He puts the ring on your finger and you're struck by how pretty it is, feeling a sense of rightness wash over you. He feels it too as both of you take a moment to look at how perfect the fit is, before you look back up at him. 

By the gods, he looked so handsome with that smile on his face, you couldn’t take it. You bring your hands to cup his face, and kiss him for all you were worth. HIs hands wrap around your waist, and you grip the nape of his neck, savoring the feeling of his comforting warmth pressed against you. As both of you pressed your lips against each other, neither of you could stop smiling—you were both so happy.

“You’ll marry me?”

“I’ll marry you right now, if it was possible.”

“You really want to marry me?”

“I always did. I feel stupid for making you wait so long.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart, I understand why.”

He pulls away a little, pouting. “But I could’ve been calling you my wife earlier.” 

“And I could’ve been calling you my husband earlier,” You tease “but here we are.”

“...Maybe we can find a priest right now.”

You laugh and smack his shoulder. “We waited a few years, I’m sure we can wait for a few months.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment.

“Giyuu?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” You really do.

He smiles softly, taking your left hand and kissing the back of your hand. “I love you too.” He really does.

For better or for worse

During the next Pillar meeting, everyone definitely notices your ring

a/n: i would like to marry this man please and thank you (′ꈍωꈍ‵)💖

I have another request in the works, but if you liked this headcanon, maybe you’d like to see a continuation! I’ve got some ideas stocked up for “how they met”, “how they got married”, or maybe “how the other pillars react to your engagement”... anyways feel free to drop a request!

apologies in advance if it takes me another month 😔

[localswordlesbian]

rose-coloured boy

The Lonely left it's mark on Martin, with his formerly dark brown hair going a stark white the moment the fog touched him. Whenever he sees his reflection in the mirror, he sees the man who became the victim of a fear that nearly swallowed him whole. So he decides that a bottle of pink hair dye is the way to go.

(or: a bunch of friends were sending art of pink haired martin on discord and I was inspired, thank you to @bagginshield and @m-e-w-666 for encouraging me to write this <3)

read it on ao3 or below the cut

Martin was beginning to wonder whether he’d fucked up.

He watched as the water vanished down the drain before his eyes, tinged ever so slightly pink as it ran freely from his head and into the sink. Hunched over the cold ceramic, Martin listened to the music he’d set to play from the speakers to occupy his mind while he waited for the water to run clear, a process which was taking an almost infuriatingly long time. Despite the music, his mind was spinning – he couldn’t remember what, exactly, had spurred him to dye his hair. His walk to the convenience store down the road had almost disappeared from his memory, as though he’d done it in a daze, and he hadn’t hesitated before pulling the plastic gloves onto his hands and squeezing the light pink goop from the bottle onto his head.

Half an hour of sitting on the cold bathroom floor, paired with being hunched over the sink which was too short for someone of Martin’s height, was beginning to cause his muscles to tighten and his bones to ache. Eventually, the water spilling over his head finally ran clear and Martin straightened, his spine popping as his unruly curls flung water all over the bathroom. Sighing as he grabbed a towel and began to dry off his hair, Martin stretched. He kept his eyes away from the mirror – he knew this had been his decision, but a deep-seated fear squirmed through his gut at the thought of seeing his own reflection; what if he hated it? What if he regretted it immediately and had no way of getting the dye out?

He shook his head. Spiralling into a panic over nothing wasn’t going to help, he tried to tell himself. Towel still wrapped around his hair, he left the bathroom and stepped onto the cold tile of his kitchen.

Tea would calm him down, he reasoned. Tea usually calmed him down. Martin got the kettle, two teabags, and two mugs, and got to work – it was a calming process, and that combined with the music still spilling from the living room was enough to distract him from his panic about his hair.

As he was seeping the tea in the boiling water, he heard the distinct sound of the front door unlocking and someone coming inside. A smile pulled at Martin’s cheeks as he saw a familiar figure enter the kitchen.

“Welcome back,”

Jon smiled at him, his tired expression lifted as his eyes met Martin’s. “Thank you. Perfect timing,” he noted, gesturing to the tea.

Martin laughed, and the sound seemed to make Jon smile wider. “Yeah, it is.”

The two stood in amicable silence while Martin finished making and pouring the tea, handing Jon his mug. His scarred hand wrapped around Martin’s as he accepted the tea, giving his boyfriend’s hand a squeeze. They stood in the kitchen as they sipped their drinks, music continuing to pour in a continuous stream of company as they enjoyed each others’.

“Is that a new fashion accessory or something?”

Martin looked up suddenly. “What?”

Jon gestured to his head. “The towel. I wouldn’t normally point it out, but you never wear a towel on your head when you shower, so…”

Martin smiled softly – the fact that Jon knew that about him was still a little pleasant surprise sometimes. “Oh, uh. Yeah. Well..” Jon tilted his head sideways, waiting for Martin to continue. Sighing, Martin grabbed the towel with one hand and yanked it off his head. “It was sort of an… impulsive decision,” he explained.

Jon seemed to study him for a moment before setting his mug down and walking over to stand in front of Martin. Reaching up, he hesitated before making content, and at Martin’s nod he took a strand between his fingers. Martin could see that the colour was very pale, an almost pastel pink, just dark enough to be noticeable but not so much so that it would call attention. Jon gave a soft smile. “I think it looks lovely,” he murmured. “Why the sudden impulse, though?”

Martin finally let himself consider that question, the question he hadn’t let himself think about since he made the decision to venture out to the store to buy the dye in the first place. He thought about all he and Jon had been through the past few years, the horrendous traumas they’d both faced – the degradation of both of their psyches at the hands of their power hungry immortal boss. Jon’s scars were a constant reminder of the avatars who had wanted them dead simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and after the Lonely–

“I suppose I didn’t want to be reminded of it anymore.” Jon tipped his head sideways, urging Martin to continue. “Every time I looked in the mirror, I could see it – the fog, the blurry horizon hardly even there, the vague silhouettes of people who were just as alone as I was. And it’s not like I could justify it with “going grey young;” it was white, Jon. There was no– no compartmentalizing it anymore. And I just couldn’t bear it.”

A beat passed, then Jon reached up and brushed the pad of his thumb across Martin’s cheek – Martin hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. He wordlessly took Martin’s hands and led him over to the couch – Martin sank gratefully into the cushions, suddenly exhausted. He felt weary down to his bones, as though a film of grey had settled over his vision and made his brain all fuzzy and spaced out. Jon said nothing, simply held Martin’s hands in his, running his thumb over the knuckles in a soothing back and forth motion.

“I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait until I– until I forget,” he confessed in a broken whisper.

Jon let out a dry, humourless laugh. “Love, I don’t think either of us will ever forget what we went through.” He squeezed Martin’s hands. “Though, that’s not to say we’ll never move past it.”

Martin nodded. “I feel like I’m giving in.”

“To what?”

“I don’t know, the fear? Peter Lukas and the Lonely? Heroes are always supposed to rock their scars, hell even you live with constant reminders of what you went through painted on your body, but I can’t even look at myself without feeling… cold. Cold and lonely and abandoned.”

Jon lifted one of Martin’s hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

Martin shook his head. “Jon. It’s not your fault. None of it was, or is.”

Jon nodded. “I know, I–” he broke off, squeezing Martin’s hands again. “I can’t promise that it will get better. The nightmares, the memories, the… the habits. But I can promise I’ll never abandon you ever again. I never want you to feel like you’re alone, not as long as I’m with you.”

“You didn’t abandon me the first time. I chose to work for Lukas, I chose to sacrifice myself. That wasn’t your fault.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“So are you!”

Jon laughed. “I suppose you’re right. My point is, I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what. No matter the colour of your hair,” he added fondly, lifting one hand to thread it through Martin’s curls. Martin leaned into the touch, taking comfort in the simplicity of this moment – sat on the couch, with tea that had gone cold, two broken people desperately trying to figure out how to simply be in a world that had taken so much from them.

Jon leaned closer, tilting his head in a silent invitation, one which Martin accepted by pressing their lips together – it was a soft kiss, a gentle one, a reminder that not all was lost, that despite it all they still had each other. Jon’s hand threaded through Martin’s hair, and Martin savoured every sensation as he cupped Jon’s cheek and felt the stubble scrape his palm. This was what had been missing in the Lonely – the feeling of touch, of direct contact with another person without feeling as though there was a layer of something between him and anyone or anything around him. But here, in this tiny flat, he was present in this very moment, present for the feeling of his boyfriend’s lips moving against his, a reminder that right now he wasn’t alone. No matter the colour of his hair or the nights where he’d wake up in a cold sweat after a dream where he’d been drowning in fog, his lungs full of cold, wet smoke and his eyes unseeing, Jon would be there.

Jon hummed against his lips, and Martin pulled away. “What?”

His boyfriend has a small smile on his face. “I just realized something,” he said. “You’re a real rose-coloured boy.”

Martin barked a laugh. “Really? That’s your great realization?”

Jon pouted. “I thought it was cute.”

Martin chuckled, brushing his lips over Jon’s again and pulling away before he could press closer. Jon let out a petulant growl, and Martin grinned. “You’re cute.”

“Am not!”

“Yes you are, don’t deny it.”

“If I agree, can I kiss you again?” Martin nodded. “Fine, then I’m adorable.”

Still grinning, Martin brought his lips to Jon’s again, and they stayed on that couch for a good long while.

After this, they’d go about their regular days. Martin still didn’t know whether he’d be able to bear his own reflection, now that his hair was no longer the stark white it had turned after the Lonely. He knew that this wouldn’t keep the nightmares at bay, the terrifying dreams of losing Jon to a fog so thick he could hardly move through it, of losing himself piece by piece as everyone walked by, of being forgotten and discarded as though he’d never mattered. He knew this wouldn’t solve anything long term.

Maybe that was okay. Maybe this was the first step.

That night, Martin looked up from the sink and beheld the pink curls on top of his head for the first time. He held his reflection’s stare, as if challenging it to go after him. The memories weren’t gone, but the telltale twist of a corkscrew of panic driving its way into his chest was, for once, absent. He simply felt… normal.

What normal was, Martin could only hope it wouldn’t remain that way forever. Jon was right – he’d never forget, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t heal, piece by piece, bit by bit, never alone again.

Perhaps that was enough.

[aceofspadegrass]

niragi bullying kids but i think the kids should start bullying back

Bully The Angry Licorice They Said. It’ll Be Fine They Said

Characters: Last Boss, Niragi Suguru, Cabot

Genre: Just some funky bullying. And a little murder. 

1.7k words

Niragi really do be bullying children. Even if the children are kind of dickheads in return.

As you see, I am bad at bullying. What I am good at is just calling the other person very dramatic names.

Also Last Boss is just watching the entire thing.

Sorry it's a little bad.

—————————————————————————————————

If there was anything Last Boss preferred to do other than follow Niragi around, it was just sit in his room alone with Cabot, but sadly that wasn’t an option. Niragi didn’t let him sit in his room, poking him awake with his own cat and then dragging him outside for reasons the other hasn’t even told him yet.

Cabot meows quietly in his ear, paws resting on his shoulder as she perched there, watching the world pass by her. Last Boss feels her nuzzle the side of his head, tickling his ear, Last Boss gently reaching up and scratching her where she liked it. She purrs happily, and Last Boss goes back to focusing his attention on Niragi, who saunters down the halls, gun at his side as always. He doesn’t bother to ask Niragi where they were even going, or why exactly he needed him there. Niragi was weird and usually had his own plans that he acts out of a simple impulsive whim, and sometimes Last Boss was simply dragged into it. Maybe because Niragi kind of thought his presence was intimidating and cool.

Or maybe he was just lonely and Last Boss was the only person willing to be in the same room and not judge him for trying to peel a banana with a coin.

They both end up outside, Last Boss slowly blinking as Niragi walks to one of the cars, glancing back at Last Boss and jerking his head towards it, that cocky smile on his face. “ Well? Come on, we don’t have all day.” Niragi called out to Last Boss, who shuffles over. “ Technically, we do…..” He says, low and quiet enough that Niragi would’ve never heard him as he makes it to the car, opening the passenger door. Niragi was already inside and turning it on, Last Boss slipping inside and shutting the door. He snaps on the seatbelt, Cabot comfortably tucked inside Last Boss’ hood and kneading close to the nape of his neck, where the fabric was.

Niragi drives off, not even wearing his own belt, and Last Boss braces his feet against the bottom part of the car as Niragi races down the empty streets with reckless abandon, the vehicle swerving this way and that. Last Boss had to keep his head down to even process it, the outside making him a little dizzy from how violently Niragi was going. Cabot was at least keeping him stable, her constant kneading against his neck familiar and slow.

He doesn’t know where they where even going until Niragi shuts off the car, Last Boss finally looking up and around him. It seemed to be a simple shopping district, Niragi already walking away without him. Last Boss stays put and watches Niragi, silently testing how far he’d go before realizing (or simply just remembering) that he was there too.

Cabot meows, wriggling herself out and landing on his lap, Last Boss looking down at her. She stretches, and proceeds to also make biscuits on his leg before staring up directly at him.

“…. He’ll come back sooner or later, so ….” He tells Cabot, and as if even mentioning his existence summons the demon himself, there was a loud knock at the window, Cabot scrambling off into the back of the car. Last Boss looks up, staring directly at Niragi in silence, face blank. He didn’t appreciate him scaring Cabot, Niragi just staring back. 

“ Come on! I didn’t kidnap you to be lazy and sit there! Come on! I want to walk around!” Niragi knocks on the window again, and Last Boss opens the door, if only to stop him from pounding so impatiently. Niragi backs away to let Last Boss exit, the taller of the two waiting until Cabot hops out and rubs against the duo’s legs in content. Last Boss bends down and pets her, Niragi just staying where he was for a few seconds. He leaves when Cabot focused her primary attention on her owner, strolling off. Last Boss follows him silently, Cabot keeping pace with him. 

Niragi wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to walk around, quite literally going inside buildings and straight back out, looking at random trinkets that each shop housed. Last Boss stayed outside most of the time, only coming in when Niragi calls him in to show him something that caught his attention, only to leave it there and wander off somewhere else. Nothing went into Niragi’s possession as far as Last Boss was aware, always set down where it was originally. At one point it almost looked like Niragi would take an old handheld console, but all he did was suddenly ramble on about how long it took for him to beat Sonic before putting it down and walking away.

He looks down at Cabot, who was pawing at a stray dust ball. “ He’s happy about things other than violence. He has a brain, isn’t that nice.” He mumbles, out of Niragi’s hearing range, Cabot batting the dust ball away and chasing after it. 

There was a shout deeper in the store, and Last Boss goes to investigate, although at his own pace. Niragi could handle himself, he was sure, so he didn’t feel the need to hurry.

“ What the fuck!? Who the fuck are you!” It was a younger voice, Last Boss slowly blinking as he makes it to where the shout came from. Niragi was standing there, door open, Last Boss peeking in. There, all in the corner surrounded by blankets, pillows, and old thrown away cans, were a bunch of kids, perhaps no older than 14 at best. One of them was aiming a baseball bat in their direction, Niragi scoffing and leaning his weight to the left. “ I should be asking you that question. What are you all doing back here, eh? This place is shit.” Niragi smirks, Last Boss watching the interaction in the background.

“ So? Not like what you had is much better, old man!” “ Wh- Old man?! I’ll have you know that I’m fucking youthful as hell! You look like fucking babies!” Niragi growls, the lead kid smirking and turning the bat in their hand, the light in the room illuminating the dark splotches upon the wood. “ At least we’re decades more spry than you! You may look good, but I bet that your old man bones are gonna fail you!” “ I take care of myself, excuse you! I’ll fucking shoot you right here, don’t think I won’t!” Niragi points his gun at the children with a snarl, a few of the children hiding behind whatever they could. Last Boss didn’t know what to make of any of this, but the determination and bravery on the baseball bat wielding kid was impressive, the kid laughing in the face of death.

“ Oh, too much of a pussy to take a few words? You look like you buy your clothes off the bargain rack! No, even better! You stole them from the thrift store!” Niragi only got more angry it seemed, and as a warning shot a few bullets into the ground, a few yelps coming through from the other end. Last Boss blinks, and looks to Niragi for a second. He seemed infuriated by the kid, and likely wasn’t about to take any of it sitting down.

“ You think you’re so tough, but I’ll show you! I’ll show all of you! You’re just kids, and I’m an adult with a gun!” The other kid snorts. “ Yeah, surrrreeeee…… Bet you think you’re tough too! You look like you try too hard.I mean, look at that face! Piercings all on one side? You look like you have silver moles! They look stupid on you!” The kid retorts with a smug grin, and Niragi huffs.

“ And you look like a generic background character that doesn’t even get a name! Who the fuck made that face? Oh man, your mom probably looked like a hag!” Niragi cackles at his own statement, Last Boss slowly blinking as Niragi looks back at him with a satisfied smirk. “ At least I have a mom! You look like yours went and taught you how to be a badly printed pool!” Niragi rolls his eyes at the kid. “ At least it didn’t print little volcanos on my face! Unlike someone.” The leader glaring at him.

“ That’s just how I look! I’ll get super sexy and all the girls and boys will adore me! You’ll look like a wrinkled pocket receipt , ready to decompose and die Niragi rolls his eyes, and he shoots again, closer. “ You say one more thing and I’ll blow you like a piñata.” The kid grins, and his stupid mouth begins to open,” So in other words, you would blow me? Ewwwww! The weird bag of Adderall and crack is gonna get us! I’m sooooo scared~” He smugly and sarcastically replies, a few other kids joining in a little in laughing.

“ He looks like a discarded charcoal grill!” “ Probably smells like overflowing garbage-“ “ Hey! Do you think he even has a brain in there? Probably filled with tapioca pudding! Ooh, or just black beans!” There was a faint click, and Last Boss doesn’t even have time to react properly then Niragi let bullets fly from his beloved gun.

He sighs once the other end were nothing more than flesh, and turns to Last Boss, grinning. “ I’m gonna head to the other store.” He rolls his eyes, resting his gun back on his shoulder as he leaves. “ They really think they could get away with calling me names?” Niragi grumbles on his way out, and Last Boss merely blinks, not even looking back. Cabot comes around on his way out, demanding pats. Last Boss kneels down and runs his hand from back all the way to her tail, Cabot purring. “ He smells more like a sad sandcastle, actually.” Last Boss mutters, and Cabot meows in agreement, the cat climbing him like a short child using a countertop to reach her favourite cereal on the shelf. He stands up and shuffles his way back near Niragi’s side, not at all ready to deal with his angry grumbling for the next half hour.

[overwhelmedbyskeletons]

When Nothing Moves

I can’t sleep. The sun is too bright.

I started this job cleaning out fruit slicers all night a month ago and I haven’t had a good nights sleep since. Every night filled with tossing and turning, trying to find a way to comfortably shield my eyes from the suns blinding light. Working a graveyard hours job meant I was sleeping all day and working all night. The cruddy curtains in my room were doing fuck-all for blocking out sunlight. Some of the guys at my job that were friendly enough told me to buy some blackout curtains and it will make my room completely dark, even with the sun beating down and hopefully it will help me get some good rest. after my work week ended, in my car I ordered that highest-reviewed blackout curtains I could find online and they were due to arrive at my apartment the next morning, in seven hours.

I woke the next day to a knock on my door and a shine directly into my eyes. I could have rearranged my entire room several times and still wouldn’t be able find a way to not get work on my tan while I sleep. I hurried to the door to get the package and gave a wave to the delivery driver before they made it down the stairs out of view.

Putting up the curtains was smooth, even though they were quite heavy material. My biggest fear was that they would pull the curtain rod from the wall, but that worry didn’t last long as the void that my bedroom had become was a sight for sore and tired eyes. I poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen before sitting down on my bed. Before I could take a sip, the comfort of my sheets began to sing symphonies to my tired muscles and lull me back to sleep.

I slept in, something that was unheard of even before I started my backwards sleep schedule. The clock on the bedside table read 9:23pm in red digital font, illuminating my wallet and phone that I had forgotten to plug in after last nights shift and was now most definitely dead. Still in a sleep state, I reached down to grab the charger and plug it into my phone when I heard a noise come from the other side of the bed. A tapping in a rhythmic matter, which would explain why i hadn’t noticed it sooner, but now it had gotten louder, almost annoyed at me paying it no mind and I froze leaning halfway off the bed. The jolt of fear that swarmed my body woke me up better than any instant java could ever wish. It knows that I know and its playing with me now. The tapping is getting faster and multiplies and I now that it is the sound of fingernails tapping on my wall.

(Did somebody break in am I really going to get murdered in my bed after the first night of decent sleep in my life?)

The tapping stopped suddenly, followed by a bang on the wall knocking out one of the nails holding up the curtains. My fists clenched among other things. I roll off the bed into a stance and with a sorry excuse of a warcry ready to fight whatever it was in my room to the death if need be. Nothing was there; I was sure of that. The curtains had fallen letting in the bright glow from the 7-11 across the street, revealing the only thing out of the ordinary in my room was that I needed to clean.

“Must’ve been a dream.” I said out loud, an attempt to calm myself after what I just experienced or just only imagined.

I flicked the flicked the lights on and fixed the curtains. Hammering in the nails all a little more for good measure before walking out of my room to start my day.

My apartment is in no meaning of the word interesting. I’ll state that I had, two chairs, a couch, some scattered goodwill tables of varying size, and a flatscreen TV on a small Swedish table decorated with a collection of games and movies. It wasn’t much, but I enjoyed what I had.

I prepared myself a bowl of cereal and sat on the couch to watch a show when I noticed movement down the hallway into my room. It wasn’t a natural movement in any sense and even now it is hard to explain. It was as if the world had lost focus of that specific spot in my bedroom doorway and it had grown hazy and distorted. It had the height of a man in a sheet ghost’s clothing and it was raising what I presumed to be its arms when an ad on the TV startled me back to reality. I started up a show and began eating my food quickly, doing my best to forget what might be lurking down the hall and failing as thoughts raced through my head.

(I didn’t check under the bed FUCK no one can fit under there anyways FUCK THE CLOSET FUCK it’s nothing probably just a reflection YOU HAVE NO MIRRORS IN THERE DUMBASS AND YOU CLOSED THE CURTAINS IT’S A GHOST YOU ARE BEING HAUNTED CONGRATULATIONS SHIRLEY FUCKING JACKSON WOULD WRITE A BOOK ABOUT YOU CALLED THE IDIOT’S HAUNTING IF SHE WAS STILL ALIVE)

Frustrated with myself I hopped up and marched down the hall to my room huffing and puffing with each authoritative stomp, making sure that whoever await beyond the door knew I meant the most serious of business, as well as sloshing my breakfast everywhere. As I pushed the door open fully I was rushed by what I can only describe as a shadow, knocking me on my back. spilling cereal and milk all over me and as I looked up I could see the shadow turn left at the end of the hallway into the TV room and out of my sight.

I was terrified. I tried to stand myself up while keeping my sights on where I last saw it. As I got to my knees and began to prop up, the shadow peaked around the corner with a featureless, translucent face starring at me with what I assumed was malicious intent. Frozen in fear, I could only muster up the breath to ask a single question.

“Who?”

To which, to my absolute horror it responded in a echoed whisper.

“Boo.”

And vanished.

With my pants shit and my legs like jello, it took me a moment to breath, let alone move. When Blood returned to my veins I hastily made my way to the bathroom to clean myself of spilled Golden Grahams and milk and to face the realization that what I had just witnessed was anything but normal. I spent a moment arguing with my thoughts, fighting the impulse to sleep in my car. My reflection in the bathroom mirror helped to ground me in reality, to remind me that I am fine and no harm was done. I convinced myself of a resident Casper The Friendly, albeit roughhousing ghost. I soon after left the bathroom.

I poured myself another, bigger bowl of cereal and sat down to watch anything the TV had to offer. I spent the rest of the night on the couch, eating and finding any excuse to not look down the hallway.

At around 2:51am I had had enough of wracking my brain, thinking that at any moment the shadow would reappear and attack me again, this time finishing the job. I bolted down the hallway to my bedroom, grabbed my keys and wallet and headed out my apartment to go across the street to the 7-11 for a early morning slurpee. The cashier knew me and joked about my usual purchase of sugary drinks and snacks. I gave no response, paid my $6.23 and headed out the door.

As I was crossing the street back to my apartment, I looked up to my second floor bedroom window, half hoping to see nothing, other half expecting bloody Mary herself. After what I had been through that night, I’m not sure why I even went back into that apartment. The curtain rod had been torn out of the wall again and standing in my room were two of the shadow figures latched to the windowsill, with the distinct outline of hands pushed against the glass. They watched me as I continued crossing the street; my heart was almost bursting out of my chest. I was running on fear induced auto-pilot and my destination was my apartment door. When I reached my door I finally paused and reflected on what had happened tonight.

(If they wanted me dead, They could have done it already. They were playing games with me, but why?)

I stood in front of my door for a minute before realizing I had never locked it and walked right in ready to confront whatever was inside. I flicked the kitchen light on, set my drink and bag down, and looked down the dark hallway. Spilling out of my room were dozens of shadows piling over each other, all different shapes and heights of darkness, fading in and out as if there was a draft blowing through them. I began nervously pacing in my small kitchen, checking on the hallways inhabitants every few rounds. They never moved. After a while a voice moaned from my bedroom.

“Leave”

“No.” I spat out responded in annoyance.

“Leave or...”

“Or fucking what?” I shouted with such ferocity that my neighbors definitely heard me.

“Die.”

All the blood drained from my face and immediately the shadows in the hall began screaming and moaning, shifting from side to side,all while inching towards me. My legs turned gave out from under me. trying to catch myself from falling I had turned the kitchen light off which seemed to invite the shadows to come closer. As they got closer, their faces appeared mangled and distorted consisting of holes where a human features should be. As their shadows began to overtake my motionless body, I shut my eyes so tight that it hurt. Amidst the moaning I heard one last phrase.

“Sleep again now. We’ll do the rest.”

The next thing I know, i’m laying on the doormat outside of my apartment. I didn’t care how I got there. I quickly got on my feet and down the stairs to my car. I closed my eyes as I backed out of the parking lot. I didn’t want to ever look at that window ever again.

I stayed at my friend Aiden’s place for a week. He lived alone, so he liked the company and he had the room for it, so he didn’t mind. I had told him a lie of how the landlord was spying on me when I showered and once tried to seduce me while fixing the sink. I think he believed it.

I only wanted to go back to the apartment once to get my stuff. After a week of staying with Aiden, the two of us drove to the apartment building and found that where my bedroom window used to be was blown out, stained black with burn marks. Aiden didn’t know what to say and I was beyond confused. We parked the car and I went to the landlord’s door alone and asked what had happened. He told me in detail that four days again my room had exploded from a gas leak and that I was lucky I went on vacation or else i’d be a deadman. There was nothing to be packed up that wasn’t ash. I apologized to him about his building, and said goodbye. I headed back to my friends car who was waiting with a drink for me from across the street. I got into the car without a word.

“What the fuck happened? Did he try to kill you? Tried to burn you alive cuz you weren’t turned on by his wrinkles?” Aiden said as he started the car.

“No, he doesn’t know what happened. Gas leak they think, he told me.” I said. “Let me take one last look.”

“Oh, sure. Of course.” He said, shutting the engine off. I rested my arms on the top of his car looking up to my once bedroom window now black from the fires, but somehow still intact. I thought I saw something and ran across the street to see it closer. There were two marks on the burnt windowsill; marks I could swear were burned in hands.

“You ok, Rick?” Aiden shouted from the driver’s seat.

“Yea, no, I’m good. Just getting a closer look.” I said as I ran back to the car. “Just saying goodbye is all.”

“Well alrighty, you want to grab some burgers?”

I nodded and smiled.

I never asked him if he saw the handprints.

We pulled out of the parking lot, passing my old apartment building one last time. I instinctively waved to the window that used to be my bedroom. Nothing waved back.

[lynnsfics]

Full Moon Madness

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Prompt List #26)

Word Count: Approx. 2k

Warnings: Mild Language

Requests Open! See Prompt List for more details!

~~~

Looking at the lunar calendar on your phone did nothing to improve your already tense mood. You’d always managed to find a way to sneak away from the tower during a full moon, be it an independant mission or a trip home. But this month, there was nothing that could take you away, and Tony was insisting you stay for the Stark Gala. 

Three days was all you had to prepare, and you weren’t sure what to do. You had been part of the Avengers Initiative for almost three years now, and were close with most of the team. It wasn’t your fault that your condition never came up, but at this point it almost felt like you were lying to them. What were you supposed to do? Walk into breakfast one day and say “Oh by the way, I’m a werewolf, just thought I’d let you all know.” 

 Well, compared to some of your other options, it may not be the worst. Hearing a knock at the door, you quickly closed the app on your phone and tried to put on a happy facade. 

“Hey doll,” Bucky said, “mind if I come in?” 

Sliding off the bed, you answered the door with a smile. “Sure Buck, what’s up?”

“Well, Pepper wanted me to check in on you and make sure you were going to be at the gala this Saturday. She said that you couldn’t miss another, apparently it’s been driving the PR team crazy.” You had to suppress your grimace. It didn’t feel like you had missed that many, but if the public relations department was getting involved things weren’t looking good. Pepper did a great job organizing these things, and you hated to disappoint her, but there was no way you could go this weekend. If only there was a way to explain why. 

“Oh, well, I can try my best. I’m not certain though,” you trailed off. Silently whispering a prayer he wouldn’t ask why, you made your way over to the bedside table to grab your phone. 

 He followed you farther into the room and you silently sighed. Well, so much for the power of prayer. “Is everything alright? Why can’t you go?”

“Well, I’m going to try my best to go, but I can’t say for sure. What if an emergency comes up?” 

He looked at you questioningly, “It’s only two nights away. What could possibly happen in two days?” “A lot could happen, okay? Look, just please tell Pepper I’ll try to be there. I’m just a bit tired right now.” Bucky nodded, looking a bit hurt at your sudden mood shift. As soon as he left, you collapsed onto the bed and sighed heavily. The full moon wasn’t until Sunday. So, in theory, you could go to the gala, but it would be a bit risky. You felt bad for snapping at Bucky, but it wasn’t like you could tell him what was really going on. 

As long as you were able to go to the facility upstate on Sunday you should be fine. The key word there being “should”. Even though the whole werewolf thing had been a side-effect of your powers, they weren’t always consistent. That being said, there was a possibility of you “turning” at the gala, which would be messy to say the least. 

Well, you should at least have an outfit selected, just in case. Walking into the common room, you plopped down on the couch next to Natasha. 

“Hey, you planning to go to the gala this time?” 

So apparently everyone seemed to notice your absences. “I think I am, but I have no idea what I’ll be wearing.” “Well, it’s supposed to be somewhat formal, so you may want to consider dressing up a bit more than you usually do.” 

“Haha, very funny.” Apparently everyone was a critic. “But I’ll see what I can do, thanks.” “Oh, you’re actually planning to go to Stark’s party?” Steve questioned from the kitchen. 

Wow, Pepper must be getting everyone to try and convince you to go. “Yes, Steve, I am. But if everyone keeps pestering me about it, I may just spend the night in my room.” Sam, who was sitting at the kitchen counter, held his hands up in mock surrender. “I never said anything about it,” he chuckled. 

You laughed, “Thank you for that, Sam. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out what to wear. If anyone needs me I’ll be out shopping.” 

So apparently finding proper gala attire was much harder than you expected. You were on your fifth store, and none of the outfits you found really held up to your expectation of “billionaire’s fancy party”. 

Silently berating yourself for not asking Pepper outfit specifics, you pulled out your phone. Bucky seemed to know a lot about formal wear. Part of you argued that calling Pepper would be fine, but something about asking Bucky just felt right. 

Ever since you had joined the team, the two of you had been great friends. Sometimes you wished you could be more, but the secret you kept from the rest of the team prevented that, let alone your own inability to coherently express how you felt. 

As the phone rang you began to feel foolish. What if he was busy doing something? Or what if he was annoyed by you calling just to ask for clothing advice? Before you could change your mind and hang up, he answered.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?” 

“Hey, sorry to bother you. I’m out shopping for Stark’s party and have no clue what the dress code is,” you chuckled, “you know how Tony is, it practically changes every year.” 

He laughed, “It’s no problem. But this year is supposed to be a semi-formal, which as we all know, means formal but not quite black tie. Also, the color scheme is red and gold, so maybe try to find something in a different color, that way you won’t be matching with the table cloths.”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed, “Thanks Buck, I’ll see what I can find.” 

Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but he was glad you were coming to the gala. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself not too, he couldn’t help but be captivated by you. He wanted to tell you that you could show up wearing a potato sack and still look stunning, but something told him that now wasn’t the right time for a confession. 

An hour after you got off the phone with him, you arrived back at the tower, several shopping bags in tow. Wanda quirked an eyebrow at you as you entered the common room, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I just spent the past three hours out shopping, if you think I would spend that amount of time looking at clothes just to only buy one outfit, you’re dead wrong.” 

“Well I hope you left some clothes at the store, Y/N,” she said good-naturedly. 

“Something tells me you took my advice,” Bucky commented as he entered the room. 

“Well, on a few things. The rest were more or less impulse buys, but what can I say, sometimes you just need a new wardrobe.” 

“And where will you be wearing these new outfits, the last I remembered, this is your first party with the team in a few months,” Wanda countered.

Your smile faltered briefly, but you forced a laugh, “What, we aren’t counting pizza nights?” Before anyone could answer you hurried off, calling out behind you, “I’d better hang these up before they get wrinkled.” 

As the gala drew nearer, you could feel yourself growing antsy. When you tried to shave for the event, it hardly made a difference. You knew something could go wrong, and there was only one person you could safely talk to about all this. If something went sideways, you only trusted Bucky to get you out of there without anyone getting hurt. 

Once you finished getting ready, you walked over to Bucky’s room and knocked on the door. He answered quickly, and smiled as soon as he saw you. “Doll, you look great. What’s up?” You felt yourself blush at the compliment, but couldn’t get distracted from the matter at hand. “Do you mind if I come in? I need to talk to you about something.” 

His brow furrowed with worry as he replied, “Sure, come on in.” “Thank you,” you took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself as you entered the room. You noticed how neat it was, the sunset shining through the window giving the whole room an orange hue. “I need to tell you something, and it’s something I’ve been keeping from you, and the rest of the team for a while.” 

You perched on the edge of his bed, not allowing yourself to get comfortable. “When I got my powers, they came with, well, I guess you could call it a side-effect. Every full moon I essentially turn into a werewolf. That’s why I’ve been missing team events, and why I go away during every time there’s a full moon. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I hope you don’t think any differently of me.”

“Why would I think any differently of you? There are people on this team that have some crazy powers, and yours isn’t any different. It’s just a part of who you are, and that doesn’t change anything. I just wish you’d told me sooner.” It was like a weight had been lifted off your chest, and you felt instantly relieved. “Thank you for understanding. There is one more thing, though. It doesn’t always happen on the full moon, sometimes it will happen right before or right after. I think I might turn tonight. If something seems off at the party, I need you to take me to the closest wooded area, I’ll find my way back when it’s safe.” 

Bucky nodded solemnly, “I’ll do everything I can to help. And don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” You thanked him quickly before heading out to the gala. 

It was close to midnight and the party showed no signs of slowing at all. Bucky had been right about the red and gold theme, and you were grateful for your black ensemble. Unfortunately, you felt your vision starting to get fuzzy around the edges, and you knew you had to leave right away. Bucky was standing against the wall, talking with Sam and Tony. “Hey Buck,” you interrupted, “I’m not really feeling well, do you mind helping me get back home?”

“Sure, no problem doll,” he said casually. 

“Wait, wait, you can’t just skip out when the party’s getting started,” Tony said jokingly.

“I really need to get to the woods, I mean I need to get to my room.” Shit.

“Hold on. You’re telling me that you want to go out to the creepy woods in the middle of the night on a full moon? Really? Really?” 

You glanced at Bucky and then back at Tony and Sam. “I’m actually a werewolf and I need to get to the woods before I hurt someone.” “Alright, fine, don’t tell me why you’re leaving,” Tony said with false apathy.

“I am being serious. You know what, nevermind, I’ll explain it to you later.” 

Before you knew it, you were safely in the most wooded area of Central Park. “Are you sure you’ll be fine?” 

“I’ll be alright, Bucky. Just hurry up and get out of here, I don’t want you getting hurt. Plus I’m pretty stupid when I’m a werewolf, and I’d rather you not see me howl at my own shadow,” you said with a laugh. 

“Alright, but I’ll wait up for you at the tower.” You nodded in acceptance, before walking away. It wasn’t long after when you blacked out. 

You woke up a few hours later in a bed, but not your bed. Taking in the sight around you, you saw the neat room and knew exactly where you were. Bucky was laying on the floor next to the bed, and shot up as soon as he saw you were awake. “You’re up, thank God. You stumbled in at like five in the morning, but didn’t seem to respond to anything I said.” 

“I probably hadn’t fully turned back yet. Thank you for making sure I got back safely. And, thank you for accepting me.” He sat next to you, and gently took your hand in his. “You are perfect, no matter what. And I do have a bit of a confession of my own,” he paused, looking into your eyes, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Can I confess something too? I feel the same way.” 

As you leaned in, your lips barely ghosted over each other before the door flew open. “Wait, Barnes was I drunk or did Y/N say she was a werewolf last night?” 

You barely contained your laugh, “Yes, Tony, I am. Now please get out!” 

 ~~~

General Taglist: 

@sydneyisnotawriter

@dark-night-sky-99

Requested by: Anon

Hey y’all, this was another request from the prompt list! The list is posted here. My inbox is open to requests, just give me a number and ship! (More details in post!) As always, kudos and comments are appreciated! Love you all <3

[justatiredghost]

Living for the Moment Chapter 3

A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other?   

It was only by a few minutes, but Dave was still technically late which was enough to make Klaus wonder if he was being stood up after all. He’d deserve it, of course, but Dave hadn’t really seemed the type to ask him out only to get a little revenge. Especially after he spent what little cash he had to buy him coffee. It never hurt to be prepared so Klaus was going over his options in case he didn’t show when Dave slipped out of the crowd and dropped into the chair next to him, breathing heavily like he’d run all the way there. 

“I am so sorry I’m late,” he said, running his hand through missed curls.

Klaus was about to make some sort of joke, but he couldn’t help but notice the way he was carrying himself, favoring his left side even as he sat down. With his hand raised to mess with his hair, Klaus spotted the scratches and the horrible purpling bruise along the side of his hand, going up his wrist and only getting bigger as it disappeared under his sleeve.

“Oh shit, are you hurt?” Klaus said, impulsively reaching out to take his hand and tug his sleeve down. 

“It’s fine, it’s not that bad,” Dave said, quickly pulling his hand away, tugging the sleeve back down as if he was embarrassed about it. 

“Getting into fights, are we?” Klaus asked and he suddenly had the impulse to offer to help. He knew how to fight, of course he did, he’d trained to all through his childhood, but he hated it. Now, he did everything he could to avoid it. He rarely lifted a hand to defend himself, but he was willing to for someone like Dave. 

“No, no, nothing like that,” Dave said quickly, looking even more embarrassed. “I just messed up at work. I just got clumsy, knocked into a stack of bricks on a crane. It was stupid, but at least no one else was around to get hurt.” 

“You sure you’re okay? Maybe you should, I dunno, be resting or something,” Klaus said. It was a bit hypocritical of him of all people to be offering health advice, but he had to ask. Just because he himself was a wreck didn’t mean he wanted to encourage it in anyone else. 

“Nah,” Dave said with a heavy sigh. “Lost my job, but I’ll be fine otherwise.”

“Well, shit,” Klaus said. “I guess we’ll just have to go hard tonight, won’t we?”

“I like the sound of that,” Dave said, sitting up a bit straighter. 

“Hey, want to get out of here? I happen to know a bunch of college students throwing a rager right now. Should be a good time.”

“Let’s do it,” Dave said and, honestly, his excitement was adorable.

-

They were both clearly in their element here, laughing and joking with the other partygoers and just generally having a good time. The booze was flowing, drugs exchanged hands, and a bong was even being passed around and, really, it was just the perfect evening. 

Usually, Klaus would be all over the place, talking or dancing with anyone interested regardless of who he actually came with. But Dave was just so much fun, even if he hadn’t come with him he’d want to be around just to see what happened next. He wasn’t as loud and outgoing as Klaus, his humor was more subdued, knowing exactly what to say with perfect timing, so the two of them played off each other so well. And it certainly helped that Dave always gave him his complete attention and never once rolled his eyes at his antics. All in all, he couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed himself this much. 

But Dave was hitting it almost as hard as Klaus did when he didn’t particularly want to remember the night, which was impressive. Klaus wasn’t all that surprised when he slumped against him, completely wasted. Usually Klaus wouldn’t really consider it any of his business, but he did feel somewhat responsible for dragging him here in the first place, so he figured he should really do something. What was the world coming to if Klaus of all people had to step up and be the voice of reason? 

“Come on, I think you’ve had enough,” he said, tugging gently on his sleeve.

“Noooo,” he complained “But I was having fuuuun.”

“Then next time go a little easier, you might last longer.”

“I’m not usually this much of a lightweight,” he slurred. “Just been a while. 

“Oh don’t worry, you’re not,” Klaus laughed. “You were putting them away like a champ. Now, come with me and we’ll find you somewhere to sleep it off.”

“Oh, you’re coming too?” Dave said, visibly perking up. “Okay.”

“Well, that was easy,” Klaus said. He helped Dave to his feet and he fell against him, faces only inches apart. 

“Hi, handsome. Or do you prefer to be called pretty, too?”

“No one told me you were smooth as fuck when high,” Klaus chuckled. “But I’ll take any compliments you’re willing to give. Maybe even a few insults too.”

“I would never insult you,” Dave said, clearly horrified at the mere suggestion.

“Come on, let’s go,” Klaus shook his head, still smiling.

“Wow,” Dave said, realizing just how unsteady he was when he tried to follow his lead. “Last time I was this wasted, I somehow managed to get myself tangled in a swing set.”

“Well, this I gotta hear.”

“Promise you won't think less of me?” Dave asked with a laugh.

“Are you kidding?” Klaus said. “That story sounds downright wholesome compared to half of mine.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” Dave said.

“We’ll do a trade,” Klaus said. “You first.” 

-

Thankfully it didn’t take them long to find an empty bedroom, just long enough for Klaus to finish one of his stories. Dave was leaning against him even more heavily as they shuffled inside, closing the door behind them. He was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes and Klaus was all too aware of his breath on his neck. When they reached the bed, Dave dropped down and sprawled out, trying to catch his breath, and Klaus sat next to him, glancing at the door as he considered his options.

“You goin’?” Dave asked and it was clear he was trying to hide his disappointment.

Klaus thought about all the people downstairs, once again dwelling on the potential of the evening, all the fun that could be had and the highs that could be obtained so he could stay just that little bit ahead of the ghosts. And then he looked back down at Dave, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, looking so sweet and hopeful. And he realized he would rather be here. Even if that did mean his evening ended here. At least he’d already had a pretty good time. And there were enough drugs in his system to last the night, and maybe he could swipe some more in the morning on his way out. 

“Nah, I can hang out for a bit,” Klaus said, leaning against the headboard and swinging his legs up onto the bed, trying to appear casual, like it was no big deal. Dave looked much too happy as he got comfortable next to him, curling up a little. 

He knew there would be no drunken escapades despite his original plans for the evening, not when Dave was so out of it. And he didn’t want to leave him alone in a place like this. If it had just been Klaus, he wouldn’t have minded either way. He was often high out of his mind or unconscious in back rooms, it didn’t bother him. Couldn’t get taken advantage of if he’s up for anything. But he didn’t know Dave’s boundaries and he wasn’t about to step over them.

Besides, Dave hadn’t made any sort of move all night that would indicate he was interested in anything more. Even drunk, all he’d done was compliment him, and earlier he put his arm around his shoulders, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Even now, he wasn’t exactly cuddling up against him. Klaus was used to people who couldn’t keep their hands off him, especially when drunk. Maybe Dave just liked his company, which he supposed was fine enough. He liked hanging out with Dave, too, and it would be easier without all the baggage involved once you start sleeping with someone. Why did everyone have to make it so complicated?

“I lied,” Dave said suddenly, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Well, misled, but it makes me feel just as bad.”

“Look, whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until you come down a bit more,” Klaus said. Lies were practically nothing. Everyone lied. “You might regret it in the morning.”

“Nah,” Dave waved him off. “Been wanting to say all night. This was all my fault.” He raised his hand, tugging down his sleeve slightly to examine the injury. It looked worse than he thought, but at least the worst of it appeared to be bandaged properly. “It’s stupid. The jackhammer never bothered me before, I’m around it all the time. But it took me by surprise, I guess, and suddenly I was back in a foxhole under fire.”

“Ah,” Klaus said, piecing it together. “Military man, huh?”

“Worst fucking decision of my life,” Dave sighed, letting his arm drop to his side again. “But I had to get away from home. I thought I’d be better off. Obviously that turned out fuckin great.” He gestured to himself. 

“I’m pretty sure they can’t technically fire you for having a flashback or a panic attack or whatever,” Klaus said, but he knew it was rarely that simple.

“All they know is I messed up and could have hurt or killed someone. I’m just lucky I was the only one nearby.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. I’m just so tired.”

“I know,” Klaus said because he definitely understood the feeling. “Go to sleep, maybe things will look better in the morning.”

It was a lie, one Klaus told himself often. But he hoped it would be true, for Dave at least. 

[crowdedimagines]

Reunited - David Dobrik

This was in my inbox and honestly this is SO cute for the concept, so thank you for sending it in @cartierhands an// i’m sorry if you don’t like the career field i picked for the reader, so imagine something else if you don’t think it’s cool lol

~

“Y/n are you sure?”

David’s asked me this for about a million times tonight. Tonight is the night we both decided to have sex for the first time. We’ve been dating since the beginning of junior year, but I’ve known him since we were kids. Growing up with Natalie and David at my side is something I’ll always be thankful for.

“Yes, David.” I laugh, I pull on the back of his neck to bring him closer. I can tell he’s super nervous. We’ve never crossed this line with anyone let alone each other.

“Okay.” He lets out a huff of anxious air.

“Baby, we’re okay.” I reassure him by cupping his face, “It’s just me.”

He seems to settle a little, I pull him on top of me. My back is resting on his bed, his body awkwardly landing on me making us both laugh.

“See? We can laugh. It’s okay. Stop being so nervous.” I peck his lips because I can’t resist his little pink smile.

After that he leans in more, getting more and more hungry. We’ve had hot and heavy makeouts before, but after a few minutes we usually have to call it quits before it becomes too much to handle.

I pull my shirt off over my head while David is focused on unbuttoning my pants. Once I slide out of them it’s his turn to undress. We’re both fully naked with each other for the first time. Now, there’s nothing holding us back. No needing to be quiet because his parents are out of town. We can have each other, finally.

That was the very first time for either of us. It was a perfect mix of messy and beautiful, while still being passionate. David and I truly loved each other, it felt like it was more than just some high school romance. At least it did until he dropped the bomb that he was moving to L.A.

“What do you mean in two days?” I shout, getting disappointed. “You didn’t even tell me you were looking at apartments.”

“Look, babe. I’m sorry. I didn’t plan for it, I know this is kind of impulsive. You know this is my dream!”

“Yeah, I know.” I sit down on the edge of his bed. It’s weird being in here now. So many memories in this room and now he’s leaving it all behind.

“We could try-”

“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What?” David suddenly stands, “You would rather break up than at least try to make it?”

“David you’re leaving. I’m going to college in Chicago and you’re going to L.A.” I pause because I have to break eye contact. I can’t look at him. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

“No.” he paces back and forth in the small room, “I love you, Y/n. I don’t want this to be over.”

I stand up and reach out to him. He hesitates for a second before he accepts it and pulls me in tight against his chest.

“David, we knew this was coming.” I rub his back and forth on his back.

“No, maybe I could just stay here. I bet I could-”

“No David, you were right. This is your dream. I would never ask you to give that up. Plus, if you don’t go and get rich and famous, who’s going to buy me a sports car?”

He finally cracks a smile on his face which makes me grin too.

Two days later, David actually left. He packed up his beat up Toyota and took off. We filled those days with as much time and goodbyes as possible. It made it easy for us to end on good terms. It was only a few weeks later I moved into my dorm and started focusing on my new life.

Being single in college was definitely nice, but I still missed the connection that I had with David. I had boyfriends, but no one measured up. David and I don’t really talk, the last I heard about him really was when he took Natalie from me. She moved to Los Angeles to be his assistant and live in his million dollar home.

“Nat!” I scream answering the facetime as I throw myself down on my bed. I just got back to my apartment so it’s perfect timing.

“Y/n, oh my gosh, it’s so good to hear your voice! I miss you!”

She’s been out there for over a year now, she loves it there. She’s offered to fly me out a couple of times, but I have yet to take her up on it. Even after I graduated months ago, I still found it odd to travel to the city I kind of hate deep down inside. It’s managed to take my two closest friends.

“I miss you more!” I gush, “How is everything?”

She goes off on a rant about the crazy things she has to do for the vlogs, and then she asks me questions about work. I got an internship with an interior design company right before graduation and I have loved it there.

“When does your internship end?” Natalie asks.

“In a few weeks, I’ve been looking for other jobs, but a lot of what they’re looking for in Chicago is people with more experience.” I roll my eyes, “I can’t get any experience until I’m hired somewhere.”

“Just keep looking! The right job will find you.”

Natalie gets up from her bed and I notice she’s walking around the house so she can quickly answer the door. She thanks a person quickly and keeps walking.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Ohh, just postmates.”

She walks into a different room now and passes it off.

“Who are you talking to?” An all too familiar is mumbled in the background. Natalie clutches the phone close to her so I can’t see anything.

“Y/n.” She answers after a second of hesitation.

“Tell her I say hi.” He replies.

“Tell her yourself.” Natalie passes the phone off to him.

“Umm hi.” I smile. It’s weird being on the phone with him again. I never deleted his contact, but I’ve never managed to press the call button. He came home to Vernon Hills a few times the first year after we broke up and tried to reach out, but things still too fresh. After that, we grew apart.

“Y/n! Wow, I haven’t heard your voice in such a long time. This is crazy.” David stares at the phone intensely.

“Yeah, this does feel a little weird.” I smile anyway, it’s good to see his face. It’s been a long time.

“You think?” He raises a brow with a smirk, “It feels normal. Like I was thrown back into high school. You could tell me I had algebra homework to do and I’d believe it.”

I laugh loudly, something that was never hard for David to make me do.

“Okay, give the phone back. She’s mine!” Natalie snatches the phone back.

“Bye, Y/n!” David yells as she walks away.

“Bye.” I laugh.

A few weeks later, I only have three remaining days of my internship. After that, I will officially be unemployed.  I have to expand my search to other big cities. New York, Denver, Dallas, and finally Los Angeles.

I wasn’t expecting to find something perfect, but almost as soon as I started looking in L.A I found my dream job. It’s perfect for me, and they’re looking for someone fresh out of school that they can train in.

I do an interview over the phone with them and they sound interested so I am officially flying out to L.A for a real interview in person.

“Natalie, you’ll never guess what just happened.” I scream as soon as she picks up the call.

“Hey Y/n, you’re on speaker. I’m driving.” She clarifies.

“Okay, who’s with you?” I question.

“Just Carly and Erin.” She pauses, “And David.”

I know most of the Vlog Squad group members from stories from Natalie. From what I can tell Carly and Erin seem like the kind of girls I would like. I still have yet to watch any videos from anyone. I try to stay away from youtube now for some reason.

“Ohh, okay. Yeah, that’s fine!” I laugh, “It’s good news I think.”

“Spill already!”

“I have a job interview-”

Natalie interrupts me with a scream before I can finish.

“Congrats-”

“I wasn’t done yet! It’s in L.A.”

“Shut up!” She squeals, “You’re kidding me, oh my god!”

“Not at all. I fly out in a couple days.”

“Have you booked a hotel yet?” David asks, finally chiming in.

“Uhh, no not yet I-”

“You should stay here. Like at my house. I have a guest bedroom. Plus, then you can meet everyone while you’re here.”

Silence falls over the line on both ends.

“David, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Natalie says, wanting to make sure that I don’t feel uncomfortable or forced to.

“No no, it’s fine. Yeah, that sounds good.” I smile thinking about how good it will be to see them both in person again.

“I fly in on Thursday at 5:00.” I inform them.

“Okay, we’ll pick you up.”

~

PART TWO

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Loverboy (Jimercury Oneshot)

Summary: Jim goes to Heaven to find the man that's been tormenting his mind for almost a week. (The description is really bad so please just read it it's better than it sounds.)

A/N: This was sponsored by Loverboy by Adam Lambert which I recommend listening to and also to my sheer lack of impulse control. I hope you're all well and that you have a good rest of your day. Get some sleep if you need it, drink some water if you can and treat yourself because you deserve it. This is not optional. Let me know what you thought because my muse likes feedback, leave a like or perhaps reblog if you feel like it and maybe check out my other semi-decent works?? OK, enjoy my darlings.

Warning(s): alcohol, swearing, implied sexual content (OK why did I write it like that since when am I that posh)

Word Count: 2.2k+

Inspiration: Effervescent by @immistermercury on AO3, Loverboy by Adam Lambert, Mercury And Me by Jim Hutton

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26 @bijoukitty

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Jim had thought Heaven would be a bit more exciting on a Friday night, if he was being as brutally honest as usual. It wasn’t somewhere he frequented much, preferring the atmospheres of the smaller clubs further south of London. For someone who wasn’t typically one to approach people first, large clubs were somewhat intimidating. He wasn’t the type of guy to buy men drinks out of the blue, to put himself in others’ personal bubbles with a smile that could do him all sorts of favours later on in the night. No, Jim would much rather people-watch with his pint of lager that never left his line of vision, something you’d expect from a patron of a coffee shop, not of a gay nightclub. Jim had adopted the philosophy that if anyone noticed and fancied the look of him, then they would go to him first. Although it was that kind of attitude that left you with a certain sense of disappointment and loneliness while sitting in the back of a taxi at four in the morning, only to take you to an even more disappointing and lonely flat and an even more disappointing and lonely bed.

This time, Jim was hellbent on not feeling anything of the sort tonight, and while that was largely down to amount of alcohol he’d drunk merely one hour into his evening, it did give him a certain air of confidence that made him almost unrecognisable. They don’t call it ‘liquid luck’ for nothing, Jim supposed as he made his way to the bar.

Heaven had a particular vibe about it that Jim found near enough impossible to pin down. It was an unspoken rite of passage, for you sure as hell didn’t get men looking to experiment down there, men who were just on the wrong side of naivety, men who weren’t gay but just in case, you never know. Men like that would get eaten alive in Heaven; ones with all sorts of bad intentions tended to lurk around the larger clubs. It wasn’t sinister, per se, but it was a bit much if you weren’t quite too sure what you were doing.

Heaven was almost always full to the brim with people, but despite that it was weirdly intimate, providing you found the right person. Jim had yet to do so but he had to give himself credit, he’d only been there for a couple of minutes. He ordered his drink, trying his best to not let the shock show on his face when he found out just how expensive drinks were at Heaven, and surveyed the scene before him. It wasn’t overly exciting, everyone in his line of vision seemed to already have someone, or in some cases multiple someones. For now, he decided to let himself be absorbed into the unique atmosphere, the deafening yet grounding music that vibrated through his very core, the fluorescent lights that illuminated what needed to be highlighted and created shadows over what needed to be hidden.

Jim couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over the sea of men surrounding him. He supposed he should have felt trapped or perhaps claustrophobic in his little corner, everywhere he looked he could see people who had yet to clock his presence. But it was just that, the fact that no one had even bothered to clock that he was there, that no one had even thrown him a glance, that made him feel somewhat isolated, something he never felt in his regular clubs. He was fighting every instinct in himself to finish his drink and go, to just forget that this evening had started in such a way, because he forced himself to remember why he was there in the first place.

That man. That one man who had somehow managed to stumble into his café on a bleak Sunday morning, still drunk from the night before and clearly not having slept yet. Why else do people go to artisan cafés at six in the morning, ask for the most lucrative drink Jim had ever heard of and then for the barista’s number because he looked simply ravishing, darling. As you can probably imagine, early morning shifts weren’t exactly busy, especially not on a Sunday of all days, and the man was just so eager to talk and inadvertently reveal half of his life story, Jim couldn’t find it in himself to let the rather interesting conversation die. He’d even offered to make him a cure for the inevitable hangover he was going to get after he eventually went to sleep. They’d talked about everything and nothing for a good two hours, until the lethargic customers looking for their pre-work coffees trickled in and heavily mumbled their never-changing orders. It was at that point when Jim had chased the man out with a tea towel and a message of get some damn sleep, for God’s sake, and once he was back behind the counter the stranger poked his head round the door to say the name’s Freddie, by the way, Freddie Mercury, before leaving for good with the sound of the bell above the door being the only thing left of his presence. Well, that, the innumerable empty cups he’d left on his table by the window and the smile etched onto Jim’s face that stayed there for the rest of the day.

At one point, Freddie had let slip that he’d been drinking with some friends at Heaven for most of the night, and that it was somewhere he went most evenings. So, Jim had taken a risk and gone on that Friday night, hoping to see his mystery man again.

He scanned over the club again and started to lose hope, even if Freddie was there, it was so dark he might struggle to see him. And even if he did, what would he do? Would Freddie even want to see him? Did he even remember him? He was rather drunk at the time, oh God what if he saw him and he didn’t even recognise his face-

“Jim!”

He snapped his head to the right so fast; he almost pulled a muscle in his neck. There he was, positively glowing under the lights that would have washed anyone else out, clad in the tightest leather, under the arm of another man. Jim’s stomach dropped about ten feet, but he refused to let that spoil his evening. Besides, he didn’t think he was capable of raining on Freddie’s oh-so-sunny parade. He forced a smile onto his face, “Freddie, hi!”

Freddie tugged on the arm of his companion like an incessant child, “Paul, this is the guy I told you about! He owns the café down the road!” His voice was so full of excitement, Jim could tell he was a little bit tipsy already, but the joy was genuine.

“I don’t own it, I just work there,” he justified, squirming a bit under intensive stare of Freddie’s friend. He knew that look, the one of suspicion, the one of I don’t know who you are, but I can’t trust you yet. Jim couldn’t find it in himself to blame him for that. He may have been trying to find reasons to hate Paul, but he just put it down to the jealousy that he knew he should be trying to rein in.

Freddie was oblivious to this, or at least was pretending to be for the sake of keeping the peace, “Oh shush, darling, you seemed pretty in charge when I was there.”

“That was only because I was the only one working at the time,” he said, feeling his smile become a bit more real and suddenly remembering why he was there in the first place. He was chasing this feeling of pure elation, this feeling of finally living that he hadn’t yet felt in the two months he’d been living in London.

“Enough of this boring stuff,” Freddie ducked out of Paul’s grasp and grabbed Jim’s free hand, “I want to dance,” his eyes sparkled, and Jim was sure it wasn’t from the lights overhead. Freddie quickly turned to Paul and said, “A glass of rosé for me, darling,” before tapping his arm and leading Jim through the crowd, leaving Paul with his lips parted in disbelief and in a state strongly reminiscent of a dead fish.

Further into the club, they had found a small space to dance. Freddie had his arms looped loosely around Jim’s neck and Jim had his hands tentatively on Freddie’s waist and their foreheads were practically touching because there wasn’t much space to do anything else. He couldn’t help but wonder if Freddie had chosen such a space on purpose, and he had no idea if he was just being hopeful or if he was actually onto something. He wasn’t all too sure where Freddie was going with this. He’d assumed that him and Paul were a thing, but they hadn’t actually done anything to suggest such a thing. He didn’t want to be seen as the guy who wrecks a relationship because he’s too selfish to think about the consequences of his actions. He knew he shouldn’t care about a man he’d met less than a week ago but when you’re practically alone in a city like London, you can’t help but cling to the first person who gives you even the slightest bit of attention.

This kind of attention was different, though. Jim wasn’t blind to the way Freddie looked at him, he knew exactly what that look meant and it sent shivers down his spine every time they locked eyes. Freddie leaned in closer, if that was even possible, and whispered in his ear, “You’re thinking too much, darling. You need to let yourself go.” Freddie pulled back and looked at Jim through his eyelashes, who in turn got goose bumps just from his tone of voice alone. It was honey, smooth and sweet, slipping into his mind and giving him a feeling that he didn’t think any drink or drug could top. He could feel himself slipping into a certain state of mind that felt softer than silk and tasted sweeter than sugar. He could lose himself in just the image of Freddie dancing like that, of Freddie holding him like that, and he was so damn grateful that he could have this all to himself, even if was only for one night.

Jim tried to come back to his senses, even though he wanted nothing more than to surrender them all to the man before him, “What do you want from me, Freddie? You already came here with someone.”

Freddie chuckled lightly, letting his eyes drift away before coming back to the bubble he’d created with Jim and had no intention of popping just yet, “Paul? No, he’s dull, darling. You on the other hand,” he paused for effect, looking Jim up and down before coming back to his ear, “You’re positively edible.”

Jim embraced the closeness for a second, not allowing himself to indulge in it for a moment longer or he would have been gone with no return, “I’m serious. I don’t want to be a game to you, I want to be more than that.”

Freddie breathed deeply, taking in Jim’s aura, “Paul thinks it’s more serious than it is, I don’t really care about him so neither should you. But this? I could get used to this, if you’ll let me,” he looked up at him again, the essence of faux innocence. Jim knew what he was asking, he could read between the lines, and gave him his answer by closing the gap between them.

The kiss was soft, it was slow, they were savouring every second for what it was worth. They had nowhere else to be, and if they did, they didn’t let it cross their minds for neither of them had ever experienced anything like this and they weren’t sure if they ever would again. It wasn’t perfect by any means, you can’t expect too much from a kiss in the middle of a nightclub, but it was so addictive and so different and so new and so exciting and just so human. It was that feeling that you never knew you wanted but once you tasted it for the first time, you just craved more and more and more.

When Jim finally pulled away, just wanting to see in Freddie’s eyes if he wanted it as much as he did, he found himself gasping slightly from the intensity of the look. It wasn’t like the one he’d gotten from Paul earlier, it was one so full of desire and passion, it was everything he’d been hoping for and more. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss, just a short one that promised so much more, before doing as Freddie had said only moments ago; he lost himself in the deafening music and the blinding lights and Freddie’s eyes.

And when he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and Freddie in his arms, he was so glad that Freddie had stumbled into his life at six o’clock on a Sunday morning.

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Take You Home”

Summary: Coming back to the penthouse after a social event with the elite of society leaves Griffin and Valtor with some emotions that need to be assorted. After so many years of being deemed unworthy to receive any adequate emotional care, Valtor is happy that Griffin was there for him to teach him how to bring them both back to the comfort of their home and ground them in it. Part 10 of “Sparks of Life”.

I wasn't expecting all the angst in this but there's also a good dose of fluff to compensate for it. Or so I hope. I'd be glad to hear your opinions.

"Home, sweet home," Valtor said as he parked the car in the garage. He was being a bit overdramatic since it'd been just a few hours since they'd left for the charity gala but they'd honestly felt like years. Even with Griffin's warmth at his side and her laughter in his ears. He hated to think about ever going to a social event without her. He had no idea how he'd survived all those years before he'd met her but he knew he couldn't do it now that he'd tasted the respite her company provided even when he couldn't taste her lips in the hall full of people.

"At long last," Griffin huffed as she unbuckled her seatbelt slowly, her movements drained of energy. She hated those gatherings with a burning passion–especially when they were some sort of fundraisers for the "less fortunate" as if luck had anything to do with gaining millions–but she hated the thought of staying home alone while he was at an event on his own so she always came with and he'd be forever grateful for it. And maybe a tad bit smug that she preferred his company over that of a good book even when she had to endure the presence of annoying "high society" members. It was a testament to her love and while he didn't need proof to know how vast that was, he still appreciated it.

"Yes, social events certainly feel like a punishment straight out of hell when the guest list is only made up of boring snobs," Valtor said as he pushed his door open and got out of the car and she followed his example, looking like she wanted to feel the comfort of their home as much as he did. He couldn't wait to get out of his suit and into her embrace. He'd spent all night practically glued to her but with all those eyes on them it'd felt more like he'd been trying to shelter himself inside her being instead of cherishing her simply for the sake of it. He needed to fix that. "Good thing I had some quality company with me," he said as he caught her gaze over the roof of the car while he was locking the vehicle.

Griffin grinned at him. "I'm starting to think you'll never stop getting distracted by me so I suppose you have nothing to worry about there," she said, drawing his attention to the way the mirth radiated from her as if to prove her words when she made him forget everything else for the time being as he walked over to her, never breaking eye contact and Griffin turned to meet him when he came to stand in front of her.

Valtor took her hand in his, content washing over him when she immediately closed her fingers around his. "You are the most beautiful sight both my eyes and my heart have seen," he said, watching her eyes shine like they were made of light as he brought her hand up to his lips to put a kiss on it and just the thought of him being the one who put all of it inside her heart was enough to make him the happiest man in the universe and erase all of his problems. They were all inconsequential when he had her there with him to love and worship and get the same in return from her precious soul. It was a dream she'd made come true when he hadn't even known it existed in his heart and it made her the most special person he'd ever known.

"Sweet talker," Griffin teased lightly after she'd made sure he knew the compliment was met with reverence and welcomed in the core of her being where it would live from now on along with all the rest of those he'd offered her during the years. It was a good thing her soul was so big–endless–that it had enough space to be the home to all of his admiration for her.

"Well, of course it's sweetness that comes out of my mouth when there's nothing else inside of me thanks to you," Valtor said, smiling when she chuckled even when it was in the midst of an eye-roll. He'd deserved that but it was a sweet price to pay for managing to amuse her. Especially after the evening of stiff etiquette they'd had.

"Come on, I want to get rid of these shoes," Griffin said as she pulled on his hand and he let her drag him towards the elevator. "I'm considering throwing them off the balcony and the possibility of hitting an innocent passer-by is the only thing that's stopping me," she confessed.

Valtor understood the impulse to get rid of everything uncomfortable–he himself was dying to finally escape the hold of his tie that had had to remain "properly" tightened around his neck the entire time–but he thought her discomfort could have something to do with the fact that she was mentally exhausted from the whole thing when she hadn't been burning with the desire to be there to begin with. She was used to wearing heels and rarely complained about them so there had to be something else. It almost made him wish that he'd left her home where she could have rested instead of dragging her along with him but he knew she wouldn't have heard a thing of it and it was him who had to relent. Her stubbornness was one of the things that had charmed him anyway.

"That and the fact that it would be a crime to throw them out after how much you paid for them. I've barely worn them," Griffin said as she let go of him to press the button for the elevator and gave him the opportunity to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer to him like he'd wanted to the whole time but he hadn't wanted to draw not only the eyes but the whispers to them, too, when he'd known she hadn't been comfortable anyway. She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly and it made him wish to never leave their private space again when he wouldn't get to feel that whenever they weren't alone.

He would happily grab the shoes and throw them in the nearest incinerator but he knew she hated to be wasteful. She was always so thoughtful and he loved her all the more for it. "Too bad there's no way to drop them on the head of every single one of those clowns we had to stand all evening," he said when he knew that at least would lift her spirits even when it needed to remain just a fantasy.

"Truly a shame," Griffin said quietly but he could hear the smirk in her tone as the mental image was no doubt doing its job of entertaining her just the way he'd intended. There had to be something in the whole ordeal for them, too, and coming up with somewhat violent scenarios of retribution for the scrutiny they'd been put under during the entirety of the gala was sort of a tradition at this point. They would make for one hell of a murder couple despite Griffin's usual kindness and his oath to never become like his mothers who may have gotten away on the charges of murder but he knew they were guilty through and through.

The elevator brought them up to the penthouse and it was still striking how much relief flooded him at the sight of the apartment. There was security in the memories he could see everywhere around him and the place was truly a home when it was imbued with their shared life. There was magic in knowing she was there with him, sharing the space not only of his apartment but of his existence as well and enriching it with her presence, helping him truly live. It was so intimate and at the same time so open when he could just reach out and touch every detail of her life when it was all sheltered there along with his own.

Griffin threw her clutch on the couch and went straight for the shoes, leaning on him as she unclasped the straps that held them to her ankles. She didn't even have to ask for him to hold up her dress so that she could actually reach under the long dark green fabric and get rid of the heels that had tormented her more than enough for one evening.

She dropped them next to the couch as well, carelessly like she almost never did. "Will you unzip me?" she asked as she moved out of his grasp and in front of him when she already knew he would help her with her predicament.

"It will be my pleasure," Valtor said as he instantly reached to free her from the satin that clung to her body beautifully but adamantly like it was ivy that needed her life energy to sustain itself. It almost made him wish he hadn't helped her put it on before they'd headed out even if the color did look spectacular on her. Though, on the other hand, everything did so she could have chosen anything else from her wardrobe and she wouldn't have been any less gorgeous. He would've appreciated it the most if they could have just stayed at home and gotten each other out of their clothes instead of going to a black-tie event.

"I'm afraid pleasure is going to have to take a backseat to sleep," Griffin said just as he was sliding the dress off of her to leave her naked except for the black lace of her underwear. "I am too tired," she said and he understood. The evening had been mentally and emotionally taxing on both of them and he would love to simply curl up with her in bed and fall asleep to the sound of her even breathing. It was the most calm and secure thing in the world and soothed him like nothing else could. "Necklace, please," Griffin reminded after he'd left her dress to drop on the floor and he wasn't doing much more than rubbing her shoulders to help her relax.

"Of course," Valtor agreed–to everything she'd said–and reached to unclasp the golden chain that had the blood red ruby at the end of it suspended between her breasts where the plunging neckline of the dress allowed it to be. It looked like a small version of her brilliant heart and had made him so proud of both their taste – his for buying it and hers for wearing it so appropriately on a night when he needed her support with his predicament as much as the children that the donations would go to.

He let go of the ends of the chain when he felt the weight of the ruby was supported by Griffin's palm. It had her turning to him instantly and slipping the necklace into the pocket of his suit jacket to leave her hands free to work on his tie. He could sigh in relief although she hadn't even started taking it off yet.

"You're breathtaking," he said as he watched her deftly undoing the tie and loosening its hold on his neck. He didn't need her nakedness put in the context of sex to appreciate it. It was enough to know she felt comfortable sharing the sight of herself like that–so natural and exposed–with him. There was trust and intimacy and all of those warm, fuzzy feelings that left his heart full but didn't make him afraid it could explode because they just had it swell and expand until it was big enough to shelter all of them, like an entire universe of happiness right there in his chest.

"I wish that were true in the literal sense so that vulture Hankens would just drop dead the next time he decided to spent the entire time he was talking to you staring at my cleavage," Griffin said, the anger seeping through in her words now that she wasn't grinding her teeth in order to crush it before it could get out like she'd been doing at the gala. "Just because my neckline is so low doesn't mean that he should stare at me like I'm a piece of meat on sale," she said, the words not any louder now but they sure carried a lot more negative energy than before. She hadn't had her chance to express her disdain for the whole ordeal yet and it was finally starting to pour out now that they were at the safety of their own space.

"I'm afraid that nothing will make him take a hint if the fact that I was on your arm the whole time didn't succeed in that," Valtor allowed himself to join her. Frankly, he would prefer to leave the whole dread of the experience right there at the gala but she was still angry and it would be far better for her to let it out rather than bottle it up inside. She'd taught him that and it had worked miracles when he'd finally released all those feelings he'd been stuffing inside himself ever since he'd been little. She'd been there to listen through all of it and help him free himself from all the hurt and rage and he wanted to do the same for her when she needed it.

"I thought that it was me who was on your arm," Griffin teased and he could see in her eyes that her laughter had come out to the surface and would just need her to release it to fill the penthouse. She was still amused by that time he'd let her walk around with him on her arm to shut up the tabloids that had been speculating whether she'd become his "trophy wife". Good. He was glad to know that she still held that memory dear even long after it had done its job of cheering her up after the articles had upset her visibly despite her attempts to hide it. He would have let her parade around with him as her arm candy for the rest of his life if that was what would be necessary to brighten her mood. He was hers and he didn't want anyone to have any doubts about that.

"Please, I was clutching at you so hard I had to put conscious efforts into loosening my grip to make sure I wouldn't bruise you." He'd wanted to pull her out of there and hide her from the world until she told him she wanted to go back outside. The lustful stares she'd received had made it hard for him to contain himself and his violent impulses. If there was anything that could change his mind about bringing her along to these events, it was definitely the ogling that he knew made her nauseous.

Griffin paused right as she undid the buttons of his shirt she'd started on after she was done with the knot of his tie. "I don't know why I hoped that us being married would make any difference when it came to his staring when the fact that his own wife standing right next to him never did," she whispered and he was ready to swear that her voice had that tremble in it that paved the way for tears of helplessness but she pulled his tie off sharply. "I'd feel sorry for her if she hadn't spent the entire gala looking down on me like I'm scum she needs to scrape off the soles of her shoes," Griffin spat out as she bent down to pick up her dress and throw it on the couch along with his tie to deal with them in the morning. The whole event had drained every last bit of her energy, not to mention her restraint when she'd been close to destroying Mrs Hankens simply with words.

She headed towards the bedroom and he was quick to discard his suit jacket–right after he took the necklace out of the pocket–and shirt and follow her. She needed all the support he could give her as she wasn't used to being trampled so blatantly and dispassionately by someone's self-imposed superiority. Nor would she ever get accustomed to it, he knew that. She hadn't already and she wouldn't in the future either. Not with her righteousness and flaming self-respect. And he wouldn't want anything less of her but he knew it just left that acrid taste in her mouth when she had to confront the contempt she was met with by a hypocrite of high social status that didn't even have half of her brains not to mention her kindness yet still acted like they were more than her just because they were born rich.

Griffin was already sitting in front of her vanity and taking out her earrings, her gaze so intense that he would have been scared for his life if it had been directed at him. Currently, her focus was on the earrings and ridding her ears of their weight which he had no reason to object to except that she was putting all the anger she couldn't pour out on those who'd ignited it and deserved to feel its burn towards her own jewelry and he was afraid she'd hurt herself instead.

He left the necklace on the vanity so that his hands would be free to put on her shoulders and help ground her in the relaxed atmosphere their home provided. He didn't need her accumulating even more restless rage and was happy to see his touch was actually helping. It seemed to drain the momentum of the anger and left her muscles slackening under his palms.

Griffin sighed as she let her hands fall away from her ears to leave the earrings on the wooden surface in front of her as she couldn't be bothered to put them back in her jewelry box. It demanded too much energy that she simply didn't have. "I know I don't have her upbringing and decorum but the look she gave me when I actually laughed instead of making that soulless sound that echoes through all of them like a cheap imitation of an original that had never existed made me feel like I was too human," she said, her voice small like he hadn't quite heard it before, even when she'd been met with contempt for her lack of falsity. "It made me feel like I had to be ashamed that I was a living person instead of a robot that had any remote chance of meeting her standards," she admitted and the words were enough to send him on a rampage but he couldn't when he had to take care of her. It was because of him that she was even introduced at those circles and had to go through the hell of the upper class etiquette and the resentful stares she received when she dared be different, when she dared be herself.

"Just ignore her," Valtor said, knowing it was easier said than done when the woman's stare was piercing through you like needles the only purpose of which was to find your weak spots and attack them vehemently. "Nothing we do will ever be good enough for her." Ignoring her was their best bet since they'd never win her approval no matter what. It'd been the same with his mothers when he'd striven to do his best but it had never satisfied them, sending him on a wild goose chase in the name of perfection that was simply unachievable. But he'd only figured that out after he'd realized he was enough for Griffin just as he was, just trying and not necessarily succeeding. It'd made him want to put all of his efforts into being better instead of forcing him to despair when he could never reach the impossibly high standard set for him.

"Don't you mean nothing I ever do?" Griffin asked but there was no malice in the question when her venom had never been directed towards him. She just sounded perplexed by the fact that he'd included himself and it pained him that she'd been so distressed by the woman's behavior that she hadn't even noticed that he was right there with her in her misery.

"I will always be just an undeserving brat picked up from the masses when Belladonna was too cold to even give birth to a child of her own in Hankens' eyes," Valtor said, the words coming out with ease now that he could tangle his hands in Griffin's purple tresses and feel held in her love for him. It hadn't always been like that but he preferred to focus on the softness of the present as he started pulling the pins out of Griffin's hairdo to help her out and pull the enjoyment he knew she got out of having him playing with her hair to replace the negativity suffocating her. "It was always there but she just didn't dare show it when my mothers were around since she was too scared of them. Once they were in jail, though, the resentment instantly surfaced and she's made it more than clear that I will never be worthy of having everything that I do."

It had stung in the beginning, burned even. What little joy he'd gotten of finally being free from his mothers' hold on him had evaporated instantly when it'd become clear that not only she, but no one else thought he was capable of running the company nor did he deserve it when he was forcefully carved into the shape of a proper CEO and hadn't been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. It had sent him overworking himself even more than the habits he'd been abused into had been forcing him to prove himself to people who had deemed him incompetent and unworthy without ever bothering to pay actual attention to any of his work. It had been a doomed mission that had, thankfully, changed when Griffin had entered his life.

She'd always made him feel seen and appreciated and like he didn't need to deserve any of her love because she just wanted to give it to him. It'd finally convinced him of his worth both as a person and as the heir of the business and that was something no one else had bothered to do for him. So her opinion had become the only one that mattered. She was the only one who'd truly made a difference in his life turning it into something beautiful that he cherished every day and as such, she was the only one allowed to influence it. It was as much hers as it was his and no one else's.

"Valtor... " Griffin trailed off when the words would turn right into cries but the tears were still there in her eyes threatening to run free and destroy not just the makeup that she didn't need anymore when they were finally home but also their peace when he knew they were forcefully dragged out of her by the imprint other people had left on his soul. She knew just how much his position as Belladonna's son had cost him and it pained her just as much as it did him to hear someone accusing him of receiving things for free when he'd almost paid with his entire life for his wealth and status. He would have if it hadn't been for her to share her own with him and fill the emptiness that'd been left when all of his joy and happiness and everything that made life worth living had been taken from him.

"Don't cry, Griffin," he said as he ran his hand through her hair that was now free from the hairdo to feel her shiver which left her muscles relaxing once again from the tension that had entered them. "They don't deserve neither your tears, nor mine," he said as he didn't want to see her upset even if she'd been the only one that had cared enough to live through his pain along with him. He didn't want her to suffer when he'd already been through that. He just wanted them to be happy together. "They already took enough from both of us."

He left the hairpins he'd pulled out of her purple strands on the vanity as he tried not to think about all the times she'd been robbed of her peace of mind because of her relations to him and took her hand, immediately relaxing when she clasped it tightly in hers like she wanted to protect it from the possibility of them being pulled apart. She'd chosen to be there with him at every turn of his crazy life that no map could help you navigate and she'd remained at his side to help him steer it out of trouble and towards happiness. She was giving him peace of heart and he knew by the matching golden bands on their fingers that he was doing the same for her. It certainly was a magical knowledge that left him confident in himself and their love and that was the best gift he could ask for. It was the best present to help him make his peace with the past he'd had to live through because of someone else's whims.

"I know what I have, Griffin," he said as he held her gaze in the mirror to lend her some of that confidence she'd given him for safekeeping when she'd known she could trust him with that now that his heart had recovered from the violence it'd been subjected to from everyone, including himself when he'd allowed others to get in his head. "And I know it's mine because I'm the one who can best take care of it," he said, letting his love reach her even when she wasn't facing him. She had all of it wrapped around her as she was the only one who'd earned his heart and the right to wear it as her crown that put her far above anyone else clawing at their feet to reach them with their selfish and cruel intentions. They were in their own heaven and no one else was worthy enough to get so high up and reach them there.

Griffin squeezed his hand. "Just let me remove my makeup and I'll be there with you," she said, her voice quivering slightly when the tears were still present but he could see even through the eye shadow and the mascara that those were happy ones because she was always real and honest with him and allowed him the privilege to see her soul. Something Hankens would never get to witness no matter how closely they observed her body or dissected her behavior. They were simply undeserving of witnessing all that beauty that she gave to the people she cared about and that was him, her friends and her students.

"You're always with me," he said as he let go of her just to make them both even more aware of that as the feeling of their connection wasn't severed even when their skin wasn't touching anymore. It could never be when they lived inside each other's souls, their love for each other tangled together to flow through every obstacle with the force of a flood and to nurture the budding happiness inside them to grow when watered with it.

Griffin smiled at him and he knew he'd taken her home.

[joybooth]

Vogue 73 questions with Mike Lawson and Ginny Baker

“Hey Mike, what’s going on?”

“Not much, lookin’ forward to doing this interview.”

“I am too. Are you guys ready to answer 73 questions?”

“Sure, let’s go find Ginny.”

It turned out they found her sitting on a lounge by the pool in leggings and a t-shirt.

“So, you guys just finished playing in the World Series, any regrets?”

“No, we were excited to get there again this year,” Mike answered sitting next to Ginny.

“I mean, I hate to lose, but we played hard and that’s all you can do.”

“How many baseball games do you think you’ve played in your life?”

“For me? I have no idea. I’ve been playing since I was 5. That’s 35 years, between little league, AA, AAA and the majors? Let’s just say a lot,” Mike laughed.

“Same, minus 10 years,” Ginny added.

“Which of your competitors has helped you improve your game the most?”

“I would say Aaron Judge, a great hitter always makes me work that much harder for a strike.”

“Nolan, Nolan Arenado. I like to steal, but he keeps me honest.”

“If you could play any other sport, what would it be?”

“Tennis?” Ginny shrugged.

“I’ve always liked hockey.”

“Past or present who would you love to play with?”

“I gotta say Babe Ruth,” Mike said.

“For me, Cy Young or Yogi Berra.”

“What’s are you superstitious about?”

“I like a certain practice cage. I don’t know if it is a superstition, but I always go for that one if it’s available, and Mike used to sleep with his bat on game days.”

“Where do you go when you need to relax?”

“If I told you that, it wouldn’t be relaxing anymore,” Mike joked.

“We spend a lot of time at home, but we just took a vacation to Baja and that was really nice.”

“What is your nickname?”

“I call him old man.”

“And I call her rookie.”

“Who is the funniest person you know?”

“Dwayne,” Ginny answered after a moment of thought.

Mike nodded. “He is great. We were at a fundraiser for his foundation the other day, and everyone at the table was laughing crying.”

“Wait, do you mean Dwayne Johnson?” the interviewer asked.  

“Yeah, we met at the Espys and get together every now and then. He throws a great BBQ every year.”

“OK, what is your go to karaoke song?”

“Baker loves anything by Beyoncé or Katy Perry. I stick to the Eagles and Duran Duran.”

“What song always makes you want to dance?”

“He is right. I love Katy Perry and Beyoncé, but Uptown Funk is my jam.”

“I don’t dance much, but no one can resist Love Shack.”

“What is your walk out song?”

“I have a mix I listen to, it’s mostly instrumentals to help me clear my head.”

“I go for the classic, eye of the tiger.”

“If you could only read one book from now on, what would it be?”

“Treasure Island has been my favorite for a long time. I’ve read it 5-6 times, and I wouldn’t mind reading it again.”

“That is really hard for me, because I don’t read things more than once very often, but… I’m going to say Esperanza Rising. I know it is a kid’s book, but I still have the copy I read in 5th grade. Someday I want to be able to share it with my kid.”

“Most absurd rule in baseball?”

“It’s not really a written rule, but there is this thing where everyone must be involved in am on-field fight. When Gin went after the Mountain, our assistant coach had to walk out there and hold onto the other coach. These guys are in their 60’s hugging on the field so it is nice and even numbers. I mean I get it, but it can look pretty silly.”

“Describe your style in one word?”

“Comfy?” Ginny ventured.

“If you could raid anyone’s closet who would it be?”

“David Beckham,” Mike answered quickly.

“Serena Williams.”

“Any hidden talents?”

“I love to knit.”

“No kidding. I can’t tell you how many times she got me with one of her needles on the bus.”

“On purpose?”

“No, he is just clumsy and doesn’t look before he sits down.”

“I did get some cute hats and that blanket over there out of it, though.” He gestured to a knit blue and white blanket with a Padre’s logo on it draped over a leather chair.

“Looks nice, now for a hard one. What is love?”

“Baby don’t hurt me?” Mike joked, Ginny batted his arm. “No, seriously, love is different for different for different people but for me, it is a commitment to something that you care deeply about.”

“That and finding someone to see the best in you even when you can’t see it in yourself.”

“What is the most romantic thing you’ve done for each other?”

“He leaves me notes in my locker on days when we don’t work together.”  

“She rubs my back.”

“Best or worst pick up line someone has ever used with you?”

“I thought it was funny when this guy said, I was so distracted by you that I ran into that wall over there. So, I am going to need you name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Who said that?” Mike asked.

“Never mind, what’s yours?”

“A girl just walked up, put her hand out and asked me I could hold it while she went for a walk.”

“Did you?” the interviewer asked.

“I did,” Mike smiled, then he reached out and squeezed Ginny’s hand.  

“Who was your childhood crush?”

“This guy.”

“She finally admits it. She had my poster on her wall, but now I have hers too.”

“What was the last show you binged?”

“We just got done rewatching all of Brooklyn 99.”

“He was a thing for Rosa.”

“She does too.”

“I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

“Name one thing you can’t live without.”

“Air?” Mike joked.

“A good wifi network,” Ginny groaned. “I hate when I’m on the road and we finally get to a hotel and they have super slow internet. I just want to relax and watch Youtube or scroll tumblr.”

“Name something you are terrible at.”

“Bowling,” Ginny answered.

“I suck at word games, scrabble, boggle, all that stuff. She usually beats me by at least 100 points.”

“What is the most nervous you’ve ever been?”

“My first game in the majors.”

“Same. Mine, not hers. I wasn’t really nervous for her because we didn’t know each other, but I remember almost blacking out the first time I walked onto the field.”  

“Name one bad habit you just can’t break.”

“I bite my fingernails, so I have to keep them super short, but that’s fine, because I would have to for pitching anyway.”

“I am an emotional shopper. When things aren’t going well in life, I use retail therapy way too much.”

“He is not kidding. The good thing is he cleans his closet out once every six months and donates a lot of impulse buys to charity.”

“Craziest fan moment?” “A lady told me she named her baby after me and asked me to sign her. I signed her little shirt, but it was a little weird.”

“What is one phrase you use too much?”

“I’m just sayin’. She keeps reminding me how much it annoys her, but it just rolls off my tongue.”

“That’s ok, I always say my bad, and he hates that, so we are even.”

“If you could be any animal, what would it be?”

“I want to say something bad ass, but really I’m a house cat.”

“I can totally see that. I am a… a bear, but mostly because I just want to sleep and be left alone sometimes.”

“Can you say something in a different language?”

“Que bola? Its Cuban for what’s up. I picked it up from Livan.”

“I speak some Indonesian, from my mom. Tidak apa apa is no worries, which is what I use most in like everyday conversation.”

“What is one cause you care deeply about?”

“It is hard to name one, but I work a lot with our local children’s hospital,” Mike answered.

“I support NAACP legal defense fund, Equal justice initiative and the African wildlife foundation.”

“How do you celebrate your wins?”

“Ice cream or beer depending on the day.”

“How do you deal with loses?”

“I try to figure out what went wrong, so I can do it differently next time,” Ginny said thoughtfully.

“How do you deal with haters?”

Ginny laughed, “You just gotta block’em out.”

“If you could redo one game which would it be?”

“The game where I messed up my knee the first time.”

“Yeah, when I almost got the no hitter and instead messed up my arm, that was pretty bad.”

“Besides baseball what would you like to be remembered for?”

“Being a good person.”

“If you weren’t baseball players, what else would you be?”

“I would do something with cars.”

“I would do something with history? Teaching or maybe be an anthropologist?”

“Do you have a pregame ritual?”

“I have a pump mix but mostly I like to meditate and mentally prepare. I usually go over the lineup one last time with Mike.”

“How many MLB teams can you name in ten seconds?”

“The Padres, the Braves, the Dodgers, the A’s, the Rockies, the Yankees, Sox, Cubs, Phillies, Astros, Mariners…”

Mike took over, “Jays, Giants, Angels, Brewers…”

“And that’s time, good job. Name the best baseball player who ever lived.” “Babe Ruth.”

“Willie Mays.”

“If you could only eat one thing forever, what would it be?”

“Pizza?” Mike answered.

“Burgers, but they have to come with fries,” Ginny chimed in.

 “What movie always makes you cry?”

“Field of dreams.”

“The Lion King.”

“What movie makes you scream in terror?”

“My friends dragged me to the Omen once, which was pretty scary, but mostly I don’t watch scary movies.”

“I watched the exorcist way too young, and that pretty much put me off scary movies for life.”

“What is the most inspirational sports film of all time?”

“I always liked Cinderella Man with Russel Crow.”

“I really liked the Life of Pi.”

“Who do you want to play you in the movie of your life?”

“I don’t know that they would make a movie of my life, but when they make hers I think Ryan Gossling is a good choice, or Ryan Reynolds, or any of the Marvel Chrises.”

“If they made a movie… I would say… Letitia Wright maybe?”

“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”

“As a kid I broke my ankle trying to do a skate board trick,” Mike scratched the back of his neck and flushed slightly.

“What is one skill you wish you had but you don’t?”

“I am trying to learn to cook, but Mike still does it most of the time.”

“If you were a super hero, what would your name be?”

“Black Diamond.”

“Beard-Man.”

“Who’s your most famous follower on twitter?”

“I don’t have a twitter.”

“A lot of people follow me to hear about Ginny, I would say Anna Kendrick is the most famous.”

“You travel a lot for work, what are three things you take with you everywhere?”

“My headphones, a neck pillow, and my phone charger.” “Same.”

“Do you have an pets?”

“We have a dog,” Ginny whistled, and a mini pie ball dachshund call running out. “This is Chip. I named her after the cup from beauty and the beast. She is a super sweet girl.”

“What’s your zodiac sign?”

“I am a Libra and Ginny is a Leo.”

“What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

“He likes coffee or half-baked and I like Cherry Garcia.”

“What’s one household chore you hate to do?”

“We both hate the dishes, so we do them together, so we can get it over with quickly.”

“Do you have any collections?”

“I have a snow globe collection, and Mike collects baseball memorabilia.”

“Who is more competitive?“

“Me!” they both said quickly, then looked at the other and laughed.

  “What is your go to date night?”

“We like to go see comedians.”

“He just got us tickets to see Ali Wong for our anniversary.”

“If you could go anywhere on vacation where would it be?”

“We are going to Kenya next month, and I am really excited about that,” Ginny answered.

“Me too.”

“What is your love language?”

“I like acts of service and words of affirmation,” Mike answered seriously for once.

“and for me, it is quality time.”

“Sleep in or rise early?”

“Sleep in!” Mike grinned.

“Read a book or watch TV?”

“Watch tv,” they agreed.

“Kiss or hug?”

“Kiss,” they both snapped.

“Strength training or cardio?”

“Cardio,” Ginny answered automatically

“I like strength training,” Mike added.

“You guys recently got married, what was the biggest change?”

“Not really anything? We already lived together.”

“Calling him my husband, is weird sometimes.”

“What was your favorite part of the wedding?”

“When we left?” Ginny laughed.

“What kind of cake did you have?”

“Just plain yellow cake with chocolate frosting,” Mike answered.

“Who caught the bouquet?”

“My agent, Amelia.”

“What song was your first dance to?”

“Unforgettable.”

“What are you doing today?”

“We’re going to the farmer’s market, then coming home for dinner with some friends.” Ginny answered, walking toward the door.

“Can I come along?”

Ginny made a face. “No, thanks for stopping by though.”

[silhouetted-beauty]

“Run In: Fate” - Part 3

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 4.9K

A/N: Initially, this was supposed to be a part of chapter two but I decided to break it up. I hope you all enjoy and Happy Readings!

Throughout the day, you repeatedly had checked your phone, waiting on a text from Yoongi. The message that’ll let you know that he made it safe to his destination, but it never arrived. You sat down, during your lunch, debating on whether to text him first and eventually, that mental debate continued until it was time for you to clock off.

It was almost nine o’clock and you still haven’t heard anything. Usually when Yoongi went on business trips, he wouldn’t call or text but he’d only be gone a few days. He would be gone for three weeks and it would have made you feel better if you had gotten one text to put your mind at ease, especially after that dream you’ve experienced. It gave you the creeps but you chucked it up to being just a nightmare.

When you arrived back to his place, you were relieved to see that Yoongi’s chef was still there. 

“Wow, you look like you’ve had a long day at work.” He joked, causing you to smile.

“It was long in a sense that I was waiting for Yoongi to text me.”

“Did he say he was going to?”

“No,” you sighed. “I just assumed he would, seeing this we were going to be apart for awhile.”

His chef saw how down you looked and offered encouraging words. “I’ve worked for Mr. Min a long time and if I know one thing, it is that he is very dedicated to his business. When he works, he shuts out the outside world no problem but when there is something going on with his family, it makes him work twice as hard so he could return home.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder. “Mr. Min will be back sooner than you realize.”

This gave you hope and excitement, looking forward to his return. All you had to do was keep yourself busy for a week or so and seeing how worried he was for you, will push Yoongi to come home possibly within a week in advance. You smiled brightly at the news.

“Now, I know you must be hungry,” he began, walking into the kitchen and bringing out a couple of dishes. “I made dinner.”

“Thank you,” you hesitated before asking. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“I appreciate the offer but I have to be getting home to my family.”

“You have a family?” You asked, suddenly feeling the sadness creep up.

“Yes, and my wife is going to kick my ass if I’m not home to tuck my daughter in like I promised.”

You watched him walk to the door before he added. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning and so will Mr. Min’s butler.”

“Oh... that’s good. Now I don’t have to worry about him popping up out of nowhere and giving me a heart attack.” you joked, trying to hide your disappointment. You were so lonely that you would have considered eating dinner with the tall dark ominous man to avoid being alone. “But have a good night.”

He smiled, closing the door behind him as he walked out. You took a seat at the table and held your head in your hands. You didn’t think it would be this bad when Yoongi left. If you would have know this was how you’d feel, you would have just stayed at you apartment until he returned. At least you would be in a small space and not having the feeling you were being watched.

When the doorbell rung, you quickly went to answer it, hoping it was someone who could keep you company. To your luck, Jimin was waiting on the other side. You opened the door wide to let him in, closing and locking it behind.

“I was just stopping by to check on you like I said I would,” He stated, coming further in and looking around before turning his attention on you. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay, just about to eat dinner then I guess go to bed. There’s not much else I could do.”

Jimin nodded, taking one more look around. “As long as you’re doing fine, I’ll leave you-“

“No!” You suddenly reacted, but then took a deep breath and calmed down. “Please don’t leave. I would feel better if I had someone with me.” You sighed. “Maybe I’m just scared, I don’t know. I just don’t want to be alone.”

Jimin smiled. “What are we eating for dinner?”

You smiled, leading him into the dining room while the two of you talked while you ate. The conversation had you and Jimin laughing like two best friends spending time together. You had forgotten the last time you hung out with him and how much fun you had in his company. Jimin was a great friend and you were happy to have him here. 

After dinner, you had left to change into sleepwear which consisted of Yoongi’s large shirt and your pajama pants. You joined Jimin on the couch as the two of just talked.

“Have you heard from Yoongi?” You asked in the midst of the conversation.

“Yeah, he texted me earlier this afternoon when they landed.”

“Oh, I was just wondering.” You answered, trying to make it seem that you asked out of simple curiosity.

In reality, you were a bit upset that he didn’t call to check up on you and was tempted to text him but decided against. He was working and you didn’t want to get in between him and it. When Yoongi got the time, he would reach out to you, you just had to be patient. Besides, Jimin was there with you. He was the perfect distraction to take your mind off of your boyfriend, if only for the night.

He laid on one couch while you laid on the other, carrying on a conversation from across the room until you didn’t respond when he asked you a question. Jimin looked up to find you fast asleep. He smiled and gotten up to find you a blanket. Once you were tucked in and resting peacefully, he left out of the front door, leaving you for the night.

~~~

You groaned stretching out as the sun hit your face. The aroma of food flowed into the room, waking you up from your slumber. Jimin wasn’t there but at least Yoongi’s chef was.

You sat up on the couch, yawning and stretching until you figured it was time to get dressed. Before you did, you had checked your phone for any messages; specifically, any from Yoongi. There were none.

Once again, you couldn’t shake the disappointment that was creeping up. Not one message. No ‘how are you feeling?’, no ‘what are you doing?’, or a simple ‘hi’. Getting up in a huff, you march upstairs to shower and get dress for work. Of course you had your case of morning sickness, which you could never get use to. You ate breakfast and had a quick chat with his chef before you headed out the door. You figured that you were thinking about Yoongi a lot more than he was thinking about you and you chose not to buy into it. If you kept yourself busy for awhile, time will fly by and he’d be home before you know it.

But still, you planned to talk to someone during your lunch break that could equally relate to how you were feeling and possibly give you advice on how to calm your nerves.

~

You stood in front of the door, trying to get yourself together before knocking and when you did, you only waited a minute or so before it opened. Yoongi’s mother smiled the moment she saw you.

“Y/n, what a pleasant surprise! I was wondering when you planned on stopping by since Yoongi was out of town.” She beamed, moving aside to open the door wider. “Please come in.”

“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” You asked, removing your shoes and walking inside, waiting on her to lead you through her home. It was your first time being there and you have rather her lead you around than to upset her by making yourself too comfortable.

“Absolutely not! I was just about to make tea and now that you’re here, I don’t have to drink it alone. We can catch up; I know it’s been awhile since we last talked.” 

She walked by and you followed her into the kitchen. She offered you a chair to sit in while she prepared a drink for the both of you. Initially, you were surprised that she didn’t have a maid to do it for her, seeing how the Min family had more than enough money. Seconds later, his mother noticed you staring and smiled, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Something on your mind?”

“Hm?... oh! I don’t mean to be rude but I was just wondering why were you making tea? Don’t you have someone to do it for you? Yoongi has a butler and chef and Jimin has a maid.”

“Ah! Like a servant?”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it like that.”

She laughed. “Relax, y/n. I know what you meant and no, we don’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t like the idea of someone doing something for me that I’m perfectly capable of doing myself. People with money who have other serve them, are snobs. They become lazy and use their money to buy people and show off their wealth. It’s quite sickening.”

“But wouldn’t that make Yoongi a snob? He has others serving him.”

“Yes, but not by choice.”

“What do you mean?” You asked a bit confused.

“His butler, Mr. Wu, and his chef, Kwon Yohan, were placed at Yoongi’s house for his protection.” She stated, staring off. “My sons were always a bit wild and reckless, always behaving impulsively; you know how boys will be boys.” She smiled to herself. “They had many enemies through the years and when they wanted their own place, their father and I thought they needed protection, someone to look after them in the case an enemy decided to strike, so we hired men to watch over them. Both men are quite skillful when the time calls for it.”

You were somewhat amazed by the news. “Wow, I always assumed Yoongi hired them himself.”

“Nope,” She giggled, pouring the scorching water into two fancy cups. Carrying each by the saucer, she brought one over to the table and sat one in front of you. She took a seat on the opposite end, offering you cream and sugar cubes. “He actually hated the idea. He assumed we didn’t trust him on his own and became even more rebellious. Thankfully he’s grown out of that stage.”

She dropped a cube into her cup and stirred before carefully taking a sip. “So, what brings you to my door? I know it wasn’t to question me about my way of living.” 

When you looked up at her, her dark eyes were trained on you. “Well, I did want to ask you something.”

“Go on.”

“You’ve been married to a mobster for years. How do you do it? Are there times when you wanted to leave and what makes you stay? How do you deal with the distance when your husband leaves?”

“What keeps me bound to my husband for years is love. Knowing that he will look after me and our children is what keeps me by his side. For him, family comes first; business second. But we haven’t always been like this. We have our troubles like any other married couple who’s been together more than three decades. We actually had this big argument last year. He knew I was upset over the death of our oldest son. He assumed I blamed him and I did. Rule number one: family comes first. My husband was supposed to protect my son. I was deeply upset that he allowed him to go through a business transaction alone.” She sat the cup down rather harshly at the thought. “I was furious and refused to speak to him.”

“What changed your mind?”

Yoongi’s mother released a sigh. “The fact that we still had another son who had even more trouble accepting my son’s death. Yoongi was very close to his brother, they looked out for each other. His brother kept him out of danger and helped him grow into the man he is today.”

She went silent to take a few more sips of tea and you watched her. Yoongi’s mother was a strong woman who you suddenly admired. Even after losing a child and risk the chances of losing another, it doesn’t faze her. Maybe it was the trust that they established as a family. Despite the worries that each one of them face, they put that aside to make sure family comes first.

“Mrs. Min? Do you mind if I ask one more question?”

“Of course not.”

“How do you deal with the distance when your husband is away?”

“He calls me every night before I go to bed, makes sure we’re all okay.” She easily stated but it made you lower your head at her admission, groaning out at her words. If only Yoongi was like his father in that aspect. This caused her to laugh. “Relax, y/n. I’m sure Yoongi will call soon, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I just miss him. I wish he was here to hold me.”

She put her hand over yours. “You’ll be surprised that he’s thinking the same thing. Yoongi is crazy about you.”

You placed your head in your hands as you leaned forward on the table. “I know but I just want to see him.” You scoffed with a smile, looking away. “It’s weird. I was never like this with him before, maybe it’s because of the baby. I don’t know, I guess I should appreciate this little break between us but I can’t.”

When your eyes landed back on her face, her mouth hung open and her eyes were open wide.

“What?”

“A baby?” She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. “You’re pregnant?”

“What?! No! I-I was joking!” You panicked, mentally kicking yourself because you slipped up.

“How far along are you?” She asked and when you stared at her, you could see how brightly her eyes beamed.

“I just made three months.” You sighed.

Yoongi’s mother shrieked with excitement, happily clapping her hands. She stood to give you a hug, embracing you for a moment before she went to take a seat, trying to calm down.

“Wow,” She mumbled, taking a napkin and dabbed away the tears from the corners of her eyes. “I can’t believe it. Me, a grandmother.”

“Yeah...” you looked down at your hands in your lap before looking up. “Please don’t tell Yoongi yet.”

“You mean he doesn’t know?”

You shook your head. “Not yet, but eventually I’m going to tell him, just not now.”

“Why the hell not?” She said with her eyebrow in the air.

“I just need time to think if this is what I really want. I know we both agreed that we weren’t ready for kids and Yoongi still believes so...” you broke down. “I just... I don’t know what to do.” You also grabbed a napkin to wipe your eyes.

“Y/n, listen to me.” She said sternly. “What matters right now is how you feel. Forget Yoongi! If I know my son, I know that he’ll come around eventually. He may be against the idea at first but what he needs is a little reassurance, that everything will be okay.”

“Please promise me that you won’t tell him.” You begged her. “Even if what you say is true, I should be the one to tell him.”

She smiled. “If that’s what you want then I promise not to say a word.”

You had returned her smile, feeling somewhat better. “Thank you.”

It was quiet between the two of you as you silently sipped your tea until she spoke. “I remember when I first found out I was pregnant. My husband wouldn’t let me do anything. I was a couch potato especially when he found out I was having a boy. He took control of everything, wanting to make sure I didn’t do anything to hurt the baby.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “It was mostly because if his excitement to pass the business down to his son, just like his father did with him. It wasn’t until after my first son was born and years later I became pregnant with Yoongi, their father set out to be the best he could be for his sons.”

“It didn’t bother you that their father wanted them to be mobsters later on in life?”

“Not as much as it should, I suppose. I knew what kind of man I married and if he wanted to follow tradition then so be it. But I told him that if our sons wanted something different then he couldn’t force it on them and he agreed. Fortunately for him, both of them loved him and what he did for a living so who was I to say otherwise?”

You sat for a moment in silence, thinking it all over. Yoongi’s mother allowed them to make the decision on their own. Would it be wrong of you to make the choice for your child?

That thought stayed in your mind as you drove home from work. You walked inside, heading up the stairs when the doorbell rung throughout the house. The moment you opened the door, Hyolyn jumped into your arms. The two of you stumbled backwards in laughter.

“What are you doing here?”

“We just gotten back from the hotel but we decided to go on our honeymoon in a week.”

“Wow, so soon?”

“I know but Matt and I decided not to wait any longer and just get it out of the way.” She walked over to take a seat on the living room couch and you joined her.

“So what will you both do in the meantime?”

“Work and pack. A week is long enough to work a little and also get ready to leave.” Hyolyn studied you for a bit. “How are you holding up?”

“Besides realizing a human is growing inside me and wishing Yoongi was here, I’m holding up fine.”

“Hm,” she thought it over. “You should be grateful for his absence.”

You looked at her confused. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, since you plan on hiding your pregnancy from him, you can freely do so without him questioning your behavior. You better enjoy it while you can.”

“I guess so.”

“I still think you should tell him.” She pressed causing you to roll your eyes.

“Enough about that! Are you here to have dinner with me?”

“Sure, why not.”

Dinner went great with your best friend there to crack jokes and keep you company. Jimin also showed up to check on you but left after making sure the house was secure. With Yoongi’s chef and butler gone, the two of you had a girls night, watching movies in his office and hanging out like you use to. Hours later, Hyolyn decided to call it a night and head home while you headed upstairs to the bedroom. With Yoongi gone, you stretched out comfortably over the large king size bed and fell asleep. For once, you could lie in bed naked without it leading up to sex.

~~~

You awoke the next morning feeling better than you did for the past two weeks which was refreshing. You thoughts back on what Hyolyn said. With Yoongi gone for business, why not relax and show off your pregnancy to an empty house? Now was the perfect time to do it. 

After your morning sickness, you washed your face and brushed your teeth. And after taking your daily prenatal vitamins, you walked into his closet and put on one of his large black shirt over your panties. Before the fabric fell over your torso, you caught a glimpse of your stomach. Turning to the side, you could see a bit of difference in the way it poked out slightly. You shrugged, throwing on shorts and heading out of the room.

It was still early in the morning so you figured you’d help Yohan cook breakfast. The two of you made enough for five people and even invited Mr. Wu to eat with you. You laughed at the conversation between them as they bickered over memories from Yoongi’s childhood. Strange enough, it felt like a family even with Yoongi’s absence. No wonder he didn’t have a problem living in such a big house alone, he wasn’t really alone. 

You smiled as your eyes bounced back and forth. You were starting to care for both older men. They reminded you of uncles, with one being serious and the other playful. They disagree but came together when it really mattered.

After breakfast, you lounged around the house. It mostly consisted of reading and sleeping. Once you woke up, Yohan had a snack waiting for you. With nothing else to do, you drove to your apartment and looked for all the board games you use to play with your family. You brought them back to Yoongi’s house and begged them to play it with you. When Jimin walked through the door, he was also dragged into the game.

The sun set rather quicker than usual or perhaps you were enjoying yourself too much to look at the time. Dinner was served and the four of you ate before the three of them left to go their separate ways. You, on the other hand, walked upstairs and went to bed for the night. 

It went on like this for a week, occasionally going over Yoongi’s parents house to talk with his mother. In fact, that day, she was in the middle of showing off Yoongi’s and his brother baby pictures. She laughed and reminisce which made you smile. Everything was going well until a warning flashed a crossed the television. It caught your attention that you couldn’t ignore it. Instead, you grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

*”Neighbors recalled hearing a hiss and smelling what they thought was gas. Police believe the explosion to be caused by that of a gas leak.”* The camera flashed to the scene which made your heart drop. *”Even behind me, the fireman fight to control the blaze before the houses in the vicinity catches fire.”*

You quickly grabbed your things to leave. “I’m sorry but I have to go!” You yelled. Yoongi’s mother was right behind you wondering what was going on. “That’s my brother and best friend’s house!” You cried hysterically. “I’m sorry but I have to go!” 

“Y/n! Wait a min-“ she tried to yell after you but you were already in your car, peeling out of the driveway. “Shit!”

She ran back inside to get her phone and dialing the only person she knew who could help.

“Hello, Jimin?”

~~~~~

Jimin dropped everything he was doing and left in search of you. He stopped by your brother’s house, or what use to be. The police and reporters were everywhere and luckily for him, he found one if his moles in the force and went to him.

“What’s going on?”

“After putting out the blaze, few firemen did a search and rescue. There weren’t any bodies inside but someone close by was injured by the blast.”

“Who is it, do you know? Is it male or female?”

The man shook his head. “It was an elderly man. He was badly burned and taken to the hospital to be treated.”

Jimin glanced passed him, staring at the burnt structure of the house. “Alright... that’ll be all.”

��Wait, sir! There is one more thing.” He suddenly said. Jimin leaned in closer and the man checked his surroundings before he did the same. “Firemen also found a device. Speculation is that it might be a detonation device.”

Jimin nodded, turning away to walk. Another explosion, a detonation device, and another person in relations to Yoongi. Jimin climbed into his car, still in deep thought. He had to believe that you weren’t naive enough to run into a burning building so you had to be somewhere else. Starting the car and driving away, there was another place he could check to see if you were there.

~

Jimin arrived on Yoongi’s property not even ten minutes later. He jumped out of the car and ran up to the front door, knocking hard. It didn’t take long for it to open, revealing Mr. Wu. When Jimin entered the home, he found you sitting at the table with Yohan rubbing your back. At a closer glance, your head rested in one of your hands while the other held your cellphone, and not only that, you were on the line.

”Yeah, not to worry. Hyolyn and I are safe in another country. I’ll call my insurance and see what I can do about the house.” Matt suggested. ”Try not to worry about it, accidents happen. Are you okay?”

You sniffed. “I’m okay, knowing that you both are alive.”

“Of course,” he laughed. “You’re not escaping us that easily.”

“Yeah...” you try to laugh through the pain but it doesn’t work.

“Keep your head up and try not to stress about it.”

“I’ll try... but call me if anything strange happens!”

“You got it boss.”

You ended the call, running your hands down your face. Yohan had gotten up to let Jimin take his place. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded turning to look at him.

“Are you sure?”

“No,” you admitted, getting up from the table to walk into the living room. “I miss Yoongi. I wish he were home.”

“I’m sure he misses you too and will be home before you know it.”

“It’s not that,” you sniffed, pausing in your tracks. Jimin didn’t have to see your face to know you were crying. “I’ve got this weird feeling that something bad is happening. I wish I could just hear his voice. I wish he could tell me that everything will be okay.”

“Y/n, listen to me. Everything will be okay. Do you trust me?”

You turned around to face him, sensing the seriousness behind his dark orbs, and smiled. You trusted Jimin more than you trusted yourself. He was smart and kept a level head. He always used his head and spoke calmly and clearly.

“With my life.”

Jimin smiled as well. “Good. I want you to know that I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe-“

Before he could continue his sentence, your body suddenly fell limb and if he didn’t quickly react to catch you, you would have hit the floor hard. Jimin held your unconscious body in his arms as he barely had time to process what just happened.

“Y/n? Y/n?!... Y/N?!” He called your name, gently tapped your cheek. “Shit.”

~~~~~

When you came to, you awoke to the sounds of monitors beeping, an IV in your arm, and tubes in your nose. 

A hospital? What happened? What am I doing here?

You felt so drowsy and your body felt like dead weight. You weren’t even sure you could move but tried anyway. Turning your head, you noticed a chair pulled up close to the bed, Jimin was quietly resting. He looked so peaceful that you almost didn’t want to wake him. Even while sleeping, you could tell that he avoided getting comfortable in the case, he needed to suddenly leave. His phone was out and lying on the arm of chair.

“Jimin...” you croaked; your throat dry and raspy. “Jimin...”

His eyes slowly opened and when they settled on you, they shot open and he was up in a heartbeat, standing by your side.

“Y/n?! Are you okay? Are you hurting? Do you need me to get the doctor?”

“What... what happened?” Your voice fell into a whisper, afraid of it straining and your throat becoming so dry, it cracks and blood seeps through.

“You had passed out?” 

“How long was I out for?”

“A couple hours,” he admitted, grabbing his phone to check the time. “It’s three in the morning.”

A sudden thought crossed your mind that made your eyes widen and you could feel your anxiety taking over. “What about-“

“According to the doctors, they said the baby is fine.”

You let out a relieved sigh, although you weren’t sure why. You had planned on aborting the baby so why did you care if something happened now? Deep down, you weren’t sure if you could actually go through with it but in all, it felt good hearing that nothing was wrong.

You tried to sit up but Jimin wouldn’t let you. 

“I think you need to take it easy. Try not to strain yourself.” And you listened, lying back in bed. The two of you stared at each other in silence until he spoke again. “Y/n, I’m glad that you’re okay but I think you should tell Yoongi what is going on. Clearly you are sick and he needs to know. I told him I’d look after you but this is serious. Your health might be in jeopardy.”

“No.” You simply stated, turning your head to look away. “You promised me that you won’t say anything. Please keep it that way.”

Just then Jimin’s phone rung out. He glanced down at the device in his hand, taking one look at the name: Yoongi. He looked up at you.

“I have to take this. I’ll be right outside the door.” Once he was out of earshot of you, he answered. “Hello?”

~

©2019 Silhouetted_Beauty

[mister-honeynuts]

Prompt: Aliens / Stars Pairing(s): Gwen/David Word Count: 2,388 Summary: Day Two for @gwenvidweek in which Gwen knows a thing or two about constellations and next to nothing about being a parent. Set in the middle of a verse for a bigger story I’m in the process of writing.

David comes home with an armful of paint cans and a look of determination that wavers the second he realizes Gwen is home.

She looks up at him from her magazine on the couch, amused as determination turns to guilt in a flash and beckons him further into the apartment. He complies with far less enthusiasm than he arrived with but doesn’t scramble to offer a defense as she pries open one of the larger cans.

It’s a deep, dark blue that reminds Gwen of the night sky back at camp where the city lights don’t pollute the view.

They don’t have the money for something like this and David’s usually the responsible one with money.

“Max will like it,” she comments casually, looking up from the paint with a small smile she hopes is reassuring.

“Gwen…”

She stands, crossing her arms under her chest. He’s internalizing some sort of guilt that she’d really rather not let fester but she’s not sure how to stop this before it begins.

“You move all the furniture out and I’ll start taping it off,” she says, moving to dig through their kitchen island. Beyond the fact that their kitchen island mysteriously contains a warehouse worth of random shit, she vaguely remembers them having to paint years ago when they first moved in.

Sure enough, she uncovers a mostly unused roll of painters tape under packs of nails and yard sale stickers even though they’ve never had a yard sale.

“Gwen-” David starts again, unmoved from his spot.

She sighs. It’d really have been preferable if this didn’t need to become a discussion but of course, David is a perfect boyfriend and all around good person and communication was his middle fucking name.

“Look. You know we can’t afford all this paint and I know we can’t. But it’s for Max, right? So…we’ll make it work. We just might have to eat a lot of pasta for the next week,” she tells him like it isn’t exactly the same thing that ran through his head when he was buying the damn paint.

David is not irresponsible as much as he is overly considerate of other people. Gwen knows if they really couldn’t safely take the hit, he wouldn’t have done it. It seems like David himself isn’t being as forgiving.

“I just want him to feel at home,” David says and Gwen gets it.

It’s not easy with David still in school and Gwen in whatever low standards job she’s holding down at the moment. They aren’t drowning in spare cash. Haven’t got the means to really make Max feel like this isn’t just him chilling in their spare bedroom until they figure out what to do with him.

“Then you need to start moving the furniture out because I for one am not going to get bitched out by an eleven year old because we got paint on his shitty second-hand bed frame,” she says, waving the roll of tape at him.

They stare at each other in silence for a moment where Gwen thinks she might actually have to sit David down before his face is overtaken by the literal embodiment of sunshine and she is reminded just why she fell for this idealistic boy.

David explains his concept as they pull apart Max’s bed and start lugging it into the main area of the apartment. She folds his sheets and sets them aside to be washed while they paint, overcome by how much of a parent she feels like in this moment despite feeling too much like a child herself.

She’s not Max’s mom. She’s not anyone’s mom; she can’t even keep any of her plants alive but she thinks maybe this isn’t nothing either.

David smiles at her, honest and open like he knows exactly what she’s thinking and she smacks him on the hip with a paintbrush, ducking to hide the blush that she refuses to admit is enveloping her face.

Gwen tapes off the baseboards and around the outlets while David finishes carting out the rug and the desk, taking note of the way he gently places Max’s frumpy bear at the top of the pile to scrutinize them safely from just outside the door.

“He’s supervising,” David says, shooting the most disgustingly fond look at the bear that Gwen recognizes from the times she’s caught him staring at Max when he falls asleep on the couch or in the car. And she’s not sure why but it’s only then that she really recognizes that they’re doing this. Broke, in their twenties, not quite stable themselves in adulthood but they’re taking in this tiny person who relies on them no matter how much he insists otherwise.

But fuck, they’ve practically raised Max anyways. Summer to summer. This is just that but more.

She struggles with the cluster of old magazines they're using as makeshift tarp to protect the floor while David runs to throw Max’s sheets in the laundry room downstairs. He comes back with the paint, pouring it out into a pan and offering her a brush. Their fingers brush with the exchange and she watches David flush now, bright red and too endearing.

“We’ve been dating for a while now,” she mentions as he starts laying out the blue on the ceiling. Physically, her focus is on the edges around the outlet where she’s laying her own paint but she’s hyper aware of the way he jumps slightly at the comment.

“Yeah…” he answers and Gwen can just bet the blush is still there. She smirks. “I’m sorry.”

She freezes. That’s not really what she was expecting and she finally looks up. The blush is definitely still there but the look on his face doesn’t compliment it well.

“Hey, no, what’s up? What’s there to be sorry about?”

“Everything with Max happened so fast and then you had to give up your room and-”

“David!” she cuts him off, in disbelief that he’d been fixating on this without her knowing. David, who had to talk through everything the instant it was an issue. David, who lectured her about bottling up her feelings on the regular. “We were already dating. We talked about this…do you not want to share a bedroom?”

“No!” His lack of hesitation and the urgency with which he says it really does something for her ego. He finally turns to look at her and there’s something so unfamiliar in what she sees. “But you like having your own space.”

She barks out a laugh. It’s an understatement. Gwen’s not like David. She can’t be part of the grand scheme of other people 24/7 without a sign of wearing. But, well, David isn’t the grand scheme and neither is Max. They’re her…boys. Home could be that place just as well.

It’s hard to convey that to David though. Hard to explain that she loves him and she loves Max and these two things are related to each other but they existed on their own too.

“Max needs his own space too,” she says instead but it doesn’t seem to convince him. “Look, couples get to this point. Or they break up beforehand but that’s not the point. It was going to end up like this anyways, David. And I’m glad it did. You know, even though you’re a fucking octopus.”

A total lie. If anything, Gwen’s the one seeking out warmth in the night but like fuck she’d admit that in the midst of what is already an overly drawn out heart to heart.

“You’re too good, Gwen,” David says softly, back to painting the ceiling and as Gwen stares up at him with something like awe, she thinks he really does mean it.

“We did this all in the wrong order,” she mumbles, “You’re suppose to sleep together and then have a kid.”

“Gwen!” he shouts, so apparently scandalized that he fumbles the roller and almost kicks over the bucket of paint between his feet. She smirks, pleased that he had reacted exactly the way she knew he would. There was something truly fantastic about dating your best friend.

It’s hours and two coats later but they somehow manage to get the room back together before Max is home.

Her instinct had been spot on, of course. Leave it to David to paint a nightscape reminiscent of camp for a boy who swore he hated nothing more. But looking at the finished product, a tiny pine tree forest hand painted along the baseboards, it’s subtle enough that even Max wouldn’t be able to find fault in it.

She hopes at least. They know Max best out of most but it feels like in recent days, she doubts more and more what she knows to be true about the little monster. Being wrong feels like such a bigger deal now.

It’s missing something though. She feels it and instantly she remembers. Popping into their room while David collects the leftover paint to drag downstairs later, she digs through the mess that is her bag until she finds the box.

They’re shitty. It was an impulse buy and Gwen knows in a month, they’re not going to glow anymore but after Max had mentioned (offhandedly and with all the attitude of a kid not use to being listened to) his discomfort of being alone in the dark, she’d felt compelled to seek them out.

The stars come in various sizes and adhere with some sort of cheap foam sticker. In reality, they’re probably not going to last long enough to lose their glow but she doesn’t hesitate laying them out along the ceiling and down the corners of the walls anyways.

Admiring her handiwork, she doesn’t even notice David come back until he’s wrapping his arms around her waist.

“When did you get those?” he asks into her shoulder, brushing his lips ever so slightly against the exposed skin he finds there. She rests her hands on top of his and allows herself to just enjoy the sensation of being there together like they haven’t since confessions at the end of camp.

“Impulse buys are my thing, mister. Don’t fucking steal my thunder,” she teases. “If anyone is going to bankrupt us to buy Max shit he doesn’t need, it’s going to be me.”

David hums, though whether it’s agreement or acknowledgement, she’s not quite sure. Either way, it’s nice.

They’re laying on Max’s floor, cooling down from their afternoon of excitement when the apartment door gives the telltale slam of a bitchy preteen with an attitude problem.

“Why is Mr. Honeynuts out here!” Max demands from the main area of the apartment where David had left the stuffed bear on the island while they dragged all the furniture back in and remade the bed. She turns to look at him but if he’s as nervous as she is, he doesn’t show it.

David has no doubts about Max’s reaction. She doesn’t think it comes from naivety either or the misplaced optimism he’s prone to at camp.

David just knows Max. She lets that ground her. Gwen knows Max too.

“Hey, assholes! Go lay on your own flo-” he stops in the doorway, eyes wide as he takes in the walls. His stupid bear is clutched tightly in his arms, protectively even, and Gwen feels her heart melt in a way she’d otherwise find vaguely disgusting.

She pats the ground between them but still finds herself a little surprised when he wordlessly comes to sit, bear clutched in his lap.

“What?” he asks, searching, and she can hear the minute crack in his voice. Gwen feels like there’s more than one question in that one word and it’s heartbreaking to think that a little bit of paint means so much. It reminds her too much of David at Max’s age and that’s not something they’re suppose to think about anymore.

She just can’t grasp the injustice of the universe sometimes.

“Like it?” David asks, pushing himself up to sit and gently coercing the boy to lean against him. He’s only been here for a little over a week so Gwen still isn’t sure at what point that became an acceptable action. Only that is must have happened some time in the months and months that David was keeping her out of the loop.

She’s angry in that moment but they’ve already had that talk. And she knows that the anger comes from a misplaced feeling that she doesn’t belong. In her own house. In her own little makeshift family that she cobbled together with the pieces of David his parents couldn’t destroy.

It’s ridiculous.

“So fucking stupid. You idiots. Didn’t need it,” she hears Max mumble, voice wavering.

Gwen doesn’t like the way forcibly contained tears sound on Max. His carefully crafted, unfazed by anything masquerade that prevented him from being able to say what he meant.

She places a hand gently on his head, threading fingers through the entity of curls that was his hair and pointing out the cluster of stars closest to his bed.

“That’s Canis Major. And the biggest star is Sirius. It’s suppose to be ominous and shit but so are you so…it’ll protect you. Don’t ever say we never got you a dog,” Gwen explains, tracing out the constellation in the air with her free hand.

Max snorts, subtly moving to lean against Gwen and follow her finger’s movement. David thinks he’s sly but Gwen definitely notices as he scoots closer, sandwiching Max ever so gently between them.

“Another useless degree?”

The dig stings more than it should when he means it half as much as he has in the past.

“I found something that made me happy,” she answers, trying hard to keep the defense out of her tone but she feels Max tense anyways. It leaves her feeling terrible. Like she failed. Again.

“Me too,” David interjects and just like that, the tension snaps and the two of them groan in horror. She shoves at David playfully, squishing Max even more in the process. He yelps, complaining about nothing just to complain.

David laughs, genuine and fond and Max does some kind of half laugh under his breath and Gwen doesn’t feel out of the loop.

None of them really know what they’re doing. They’re not knowing together.

[wormothy]

Here’s some ADHD and BPD moods (TW halfway down)

Not really sure how many of these are associated with the disorders but these are just some struggles of mine

(Boarderline not Bipolar)

There’s so much more but I feel like this post is too long already.

-needing to leave your room to do something but not wanting to leave your room until you finish everything you need to do in your room cos you know you’ll get distracted and never come back (I.E. I sleep with my dog and I need to let him out to pee in the morning but we have upstairs and downstairs. I need to shower and brush my teeth and get dressed and I know him peeing should take priority but I’m like. I’m never gonna shower and get in proper clothes if I leave my room rn, but this also Applies to when I study and I get hungry etc)

-talking too much

-cutting people off without meaning to in conversation

-not understanding social cues

-always worrying about other people’s feelings over my own protection

-words don’t make sense to me sometimes, I’m literally I’m a kinesthetic learner so I need to interact with things in order to actually learn it. Aka, I need to do the math problems in order to understand the formula I need to speak the words myself in order to absorb them

-lying impulsively in order to feel connected to people

-hungry but can’t find anything that sounds good except something you can’t have or is bad for you

-getting that one food your hyper focused on and ending up unsatisfied and not being able to eat

-going 10+ hours without eating “I feel weird. Huh.”

-going 10+ hours without using the bathroom “I’m. Uncomfortable?”

-covfee: makes you anxious AF but you also can’t function without it

-being really good at multitasking but also really bad at it. Aka needing the stimulation, enjoying the challenge of doing a ton of things but either never finishing them or screwing something up in the process

-I’m tired but I’m bored

-wanting to wake up early, successfully waking up early, spending 3 extra hours awake in your bed, getting out of bed the same time you always do. Dammit.

-having homework to do. Isn’t due for a week. Cool I have time. *now It’s due tomorrow* Alright. Really I’ll do it. After this round of games. *is too tired to do it* ill get up early and I’ll do it tomorrow. *morning of* finished project half assed in class 5 minutes before the due date. It’s always either A: I finish and the teacher doesn’t notice or B: I’m anxious because I didn’t finish and well I may as well drop out of class screw the refund screw the W my reputation is ruined.

-writing things down gives me anxiety, when I write to do lists and stuff it’s like they all become jumbled and nothing makes sense. The only way to organize my thoughts that doesn’t feel stressful is by having a bucket and foam cubes and fitting stuff inside the bucket. Don’t know why this is the only image for organizing and it won’t stop coming up. Idek if it’d actually work but my brain says I can’t be organized unless I do it that way.

-getting sudden bursts of inspiration and trying desperately to cram everything you can into those sudden bursts because they don’t last long

-overwhelming yourself because you have too many things to do

-becoming depressed because you suddenly realize you will never accomplish everything you want to

-suddenly realizing nothing is worth it because you won ever finish it and be satisfied

-having strong ideal and opinions and resolve and by the next day your ideals change and you can’t remember what it’s like to be the person from yesterday. Not disassociating but like, having the memories and the information of yesterday but not feeling connected to the ideals and not feeling the same way anymore

-insOmNia

-having unhealthy obsessions and feeling empty if I don’t indulge in them

-dysphoria: specifically gender dysphoria for me

-not having a solid personality, sometimes I’m an extrovert and don’t care what others think, sometimes I’m such an introvert I can’t stand social interactions and just need to be alone to heal

-thinking I have a solid sense of self and when my likes and dislikes suddenly change I go through an identity crisis. This happens at least twice a week.

-thinking I can cheer myself up by doing something that worked last time but since my personality is different I am no longer satisfied and I’m now frustrated because I can’t figure out how to make myself feel different

-uncontrollable emotions, why am I feeling this way why can’t I change it

-impulsivity: not even thinking about things before I do them, almost as if I didn’t know better but more like my body just isn’t trained think about the consequences before I do something, I just do it with uncontrollable ignorance

-having too many interests and not being able to give my all to one of them and feeling guilty that I can’t put my all into it and making myself so anxious I don’t want to do it anymore

-taking criticism too seriously because I think I’m super self aware and once someone hits it on the nail I’m mad that they called me out and I suddenly feel like everyone hates me because my weakness is showing

-Being self aware but telling myself that it’s enough to know what my problems are and deciding that I don’t need to work on them

-having a hard time planning things for the future

-getting frustrated because my brain works best last minute but last minute activities makes me anxious because I didn’t have time to mentally prepare myself for it. Aka I didn’t have time to think about how my social interactions would go so it’s like someone threw me in the deep end without telling me what water is.

-executive dysfunction: I want to do this but my body says no let’s do this useless activity for 45 hours straight

-replaying mistakes over and over until I hate myself for it

-messy rooms messy cars messy bathrooms: usually clean just, messy

-getting impulse piercings/hair cuts/hair dye

-buying clothes impulsively because I change my style so much and so often

-all or nothing mindset

-everything that’s out of sight is literally out of mind. I feel like I have to have everything within reach always.

-wasting time worrying about how it’s being spent

-being really sensitive to HOW people talk to me and HOW people interact physically, reading between lines that aren’t here, if someone asks me to do something in a weird tone I think about why they talked it me that way and sometimes decide I don’t want to do it just because the way they said it simply wasn’t how I would’ve appreciated.

-having an issue doing things someone else’s way, my way is the right way even though I know it usually isn’t

Trigger warning: self harm and anxiety

-social anxiety: Everyone is thinking bad thoughts about me and it’s my fault, I did something wrong

-social anxiety: if no one talks to me it means there’s something wrong with me que the crushing feeling against my lungs because I have no way to fix the situation

-feeling empty and wanting to lay down in the middle of traffic

-needing to feel something physical whether it be painful or not

-feeling like I need to hurt in order to start over IE cutting myself is like a fresh start

-getting so sensory overloaded that my brain shuts down and I can’t remember how to focus my eyes or move my legs (this has only happened twice, usually it’s less intense and more like I just can’t think of words, my processing shuts down)

-being so depressed you wish your bed could swallow you and you wish the world could just stop existing