#unknowingly Really Enthusiastic about bringing about the end of the world

[alignloadstar]

everyone come play in the roleswap au with me

[understandingbimbos]

So. There's a few things I need to address. My documentation and study of bimbos began as a personal project. I only started a blog because I was putting a ridiculous amount of work and thought into this and figured it should be shared (and still, there's SO much I haven't shared yet...). And that's part of why this blog isn't so well managed, not consistent, and very informal. I write every post with the assumption whoever reading will have some familiarity with the fetish and that was kind of a mistake when dealing with subject matter as delicate as this and if I want to be able to attract literally any other audience. But the blog is here now so its kind of a moot point. I won't be rewriting posts. I want to kill myself every day, its astonishing I can write anything. Anyway, recently I discovered an adult performer named Celestina Blooms, in particular, this video:

We share a lot of the same thoughts. And her criticisms of BimboTok are a lot better articulated. Here are some of things she's said that stood out to me (paraphrased):

"As an actual political movement, the Gen Z bimbo isn't actually very helpful beyond being satire because there are contradictions."

"It makes no sense to be expected to have every single decision in your life, in every area of your life, be a form of activism."

"If you don't spend enough time watching all their videos to completely get the point it looks like they're satirizing the ideologies they're preaching."

"They're kind of taking this thing and being like 'Hey! This thing is leftist because I'm leftist and I said so!' when the thing is still something very tied to a lot of systems of oppression."

"I think there's an issue with saying that being feminine is feminist."

"Because there are so many minors on TikTok they'll come across this trend and see the cute aesthetic and cute clothes, and for good measure, the ideologies a lot of them agree with and be like 'Fuck yes! Sign me up!' and before you know it they're dressing like a bimbo, calling themselves a 'bimbo', and all this stuff while not even being aware of this whole other world of bimbofication as a fetish and unknowingly calling attention to themselves."

She also brings up Pink Bimbo Academy in this video (not by name, and if you somehow see this Celestina, sorry for blowing up your spot!). I bring this up because PBA actually reached out to me like two weeks ago. We had an extremely brief conversation. He lost all interest as soon as he realized my blog isn't primarily about real life bimbos and, like Celestina, I don't believe bimbos are really a real life thing. This is the reason for my last text post (now pinned).

Up until this point I didn't realize Pink Bimbo Academy was a guy, or extremely weird. He's one of those bimbo enthusiasts that genuinely believes every woman should be a bimbo, unless they're trans that is, because according to him a bimbo can't have a penis or possess any "masculine" qualities. He seems to view bimbofication less as a fetish and more of a means to an end. To him, bimbos are the peak of femininity and bimbofication only helps women to become more of who they're "biologically" meant to be. He has entire rants against feminism up on his website and aspires to create an actual real-life bimbo finishing school, like he's a super villain or some shit, like the antagonist of every school-set bimbofication story come to life. And unfortunately, he's basically the resource for bimbofication online. I have to assume not everyone that follows his guides reads all his posts and FAQ but its more than disappointing to have a transphobe be one of the main vanguards of this fetish today.

Anyway, I can't recommend Celestina's video enough. Its a bit long but all worth watching and has made the prospect of writing this book exciting again. I would suggest this video of hers too:

Post-script: After over an hour of writing all of this I realized I actually did something extremely stupid here. Celestina follows me on here, possibly one of the first people to follow me. I kept wondering why one of her icons looked so familiar and it took me until literally just now to figure it out. I hope she doesn't mind the plug, because you all should follow her too!

@celestinablooms Twitter Instagram

[elizabeth-mitchells]

follow you to the beginning (just to relive the start) - Sam/Deena  - Fake Dating AU

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Simon Kalivoda, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Deena Johnson & Kate Schmidt, Deena Johnson & Simon Kalivoda, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Lesbian Character, Slow Burn, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Best Friends, High School, Angst, Humor, Fluff, First Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Sam and Deena are next-door neighbors, and they inevitably and enthusiastically become best friends... until childhood gives way to tragedy, grudges, and regret.

By the time they make it to high school, Sam and Deena are still next-door neighbors but also sworn enemies... until high school introduces bigger threats that they will need to face together.

Faking a relationship might be a bad idea. But it might be the only way for Sam and Deena to understand their shared past and their feelings for each other.

Chapter 1:

Sam and Deena became best friends during one perfect summer day when they were seven years old. In Shadyside, however, perfect days weren’t meant to exist. The only reason little Sam Fraser finally had the time and freedom to spend time with her next-door neighbor was because her parents were caught in the first big fight of hundreds more to come. A part of Sam would associate both events as one and the same for a long, long time. The beginning of her friendship with Deena and the downfall of the Fraser family. In contrast, Deena was living some of the best days of her life. Days that she would treasure and idolize, perhaps more than she should have, for many years to come. Her mother was alive, her father was sober, her little brother was safe in their hands. She had all the time in the world to go out into the backyard, lay on the ground, and look for shapes in the clouds. She had been doing that for a while then a shadow suddenly appeared over her.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. Her voice was still trembling slightly from the way she had run out of her house crying. Her eyes were red and she had a runny nose, but she looked genuinely curious to understand what her neighbor was doing.

Deena didn’t reply at first. She couldn’t. She was too shaken by the impact of Sam’s first impression on her. It wasn’t the very first time they met, of course. But their parents were usually hovering above them. So far they had never been alone together. They were very different kids, it was easy to tell with just one look. Not just physically, with Deena’s wild mane of curly brown hair and Sam’s being straight and blond, Deena’s brown eyes being warm and guarded meanwhile Sam’s blue eyes cried out her every emotion. It was also about the way Deena was thrown on the grass, comfortable and taking as much space as possible in her slightly oversized clothes that she picked herself, as long as they were in sale, while her mother fondly chuckled and followed her around the store in spite of which gendered aisle her daughter got lost in. Sam was the complete opposite, in her bright pink clothes that were always too loose or too tight because her mother didn’t care to bring her along when buying her clothes and it was made all the more noticeable by the way in which Sam stood tense and awkwardly, uncomfortable from head to toe, her feet restless as if ready to run at any given moment.

The silence between them had stretched out for too long, but Sam was good at waiting. Deena moved to a seated position and took a better look at the girl in front of her. “Fraser,” she blurted out. She couldn’t remember her neighbor’s name, but she knew her parents were Mr. and Mrs. Fraser of the constant frowns.

“Um, Johnson?” Sam tilted her head. She didn’t understand this game of calling out each other’s last names.

“I’m Deena,” the brunette said and jumped to her feet, not bothering to brush away the grass stuck to her clothes.

“Sam,” the other girl offered her hand.

Deena laughed, but she was troubled. She wanted to laugh so much more. There was this weird girl in front of her, obviously a second away from bursting into tears again, probably from the weight of the glittery pink ribbon on her head, and she was offering Deena her hand in greeting. However, her laughter died in Deena’s throat. The instinct to tease was, for once, overpowered by something new and somewhat unfamiliar. She didn’t know it was protectiveness, she didn’t understand what it was at all. She only felt a pull on her heart that wanted to make sure her neighbor was okay.

So, Deena shook Sam’s hand. She invited her to lay down with her to watch shapes in the clouds. She didn’t laugh at Sam, she made it her mission to make Sam laugh. Unknowingly, with that innocent handshake, they were starting out together the greatest adventure of their lives, with all the glorious ups and devastating downs that it would include.

It was still early, they had the entire day ahead of them, and under the clear blue Shadyside sky, the world was all theirs. 

They started lying down on the grass, side by side, looking up at the clouds. At first, it was perfect, and fun. Sam’s stomach started aching from how hard she was laughing every time Deena pointed out at the sky and said “That one looks like a butt.” And then Sam would point at a completely unidentifiable cloud and say, “That one looks like a robot.”

“What?!” Deena laughed wholeheartedly. “No, it doesn’t! You weirdo.”

Sam’s laughter dimmed. “Do you think I’m weird?”

“No!” Deena scoffed. “Isn’t that like a compliment?”

The blonde hummed in response. She hadn’t considered that the other girl was just as inexperienced at talking to other girls her age.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Enough silence for Sam to remember the deafening noise of her parents fighting, blaming each other, blaming her, blaming the town. Before she could stop it, Sam was crying again.

“Sam?” Deena called her name. She moved to a seated position and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder gently. “I’m sorry. I really don’t think you’re that weird.”

“That weird?” Sam chuckled through her tears.

Deena laughed along with her, but she still looked out of her comfort zone dealing with her crying neighbor. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” Sam wiped her tears away, willing herself to regain her composure as her mother always told her to do. “I just… cry a lot. My dad says it’s because my mom doesn’t have feelings and I have to cry for the both of us.”

“Okay,” Deena nodded, not knowing how to put into words how wrong that sounded. Then she noticed a single blade of grass stuck to Sam’s pretty blonde hair. “Hold on Sam, you have grass on your head,” Deena said, and reached out to take it off.

However, Deena’s hand on her hair made an idea light up in Sam’s mind. She gasped and grabbed Deena’s wrist, holding her in place. “We should make flower crowns!”

“What?!”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do it,” Sam smiled teasingly.

“Of course I do!” Deena scoffed. She was happy to see Sam smile, but she was second-guessing her previous statement about the blonde not being weird. Plus, it turned out not even Sam knew how to make flower crowns. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed. 

The two girls ended up hiding behind flower bushes between their homes. Sam had entertained herself weaving the prettiest flowers she could find in Deena’s curls. Meanwhile, Deena was content pulling blades of grass and unceremoniously letting them fall on Sam’s head. Deena couldn’t understand how Sam could be unbothered by the game. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Sam didn’t have many friends. In fact, not too long later, Sam whispered, “You’re my first real friend.”

Deena beamed upon hearing the words. She was happy with her parents and baby brother but, secretly, she had always wished for a friend, a girl like her, and here she was, finally. “You’re my only friend too,” Deena replied, a little shyly.

“Really?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Yeah,” Deena chuckled.

The blonde hummed thoughtfully. “I think that makes us best friends,” Sam said.

“Oh yeah?” Deena asked. She received a confident nod in response. That made sense to her too. “Then we should celebrate.” She jumped to her feet and offered her hand to Sam, who didn’t hesitate to follow.

The day was long, and there was so much they were dying to show each other. The hours passed by in a sun-bathed blur of childish laughter. They did everything and nothing, jumping without reason, running without destination, rolling in the grass, picking flowers, climbing trees, scratching their knees, and jumping back up into made-up games and fantasy scenarios that they hadn’t ever had a chance to share with anybody.

There were a thousand little moments that years later they would wish they could have immortalized some way. When Deena showed Sam a spider and Sam ran away. When Deena hurt her finger with a thorn from Sam’s mother’s rose bushes, and Sam kissed the afflicted finger and promised she wouldn’t tell anybody Deena cried.

When Deena started climbing the tree at the back of the backyard, Sam started freaking out. “Deena! You’ll hurt yourself!” Sam repeated many times. Deena was thinking Sam sounded older than she really was when she was worried.

“I won’t,” the blonde scoffed, getting comfortable in what actually was a really low branch of the tree. “Besides, if I fall you can catch me!”

“I can try!” Sam said, throwing her arms around her. “But you’ll probably crush me and then we’ll both be dead!”

“Hey! I’m not that heavy!”

Deena’s protest, unfortunately, made her lose her balance. For a moment, she was hanging from the branch of the tree, feeling her heart on her throat. But then Sam’s slender arms were holding on to her legs, as tightly as the little girl was capable of. Deena smiled brightly. She felt surprisingly safe, even if she knew that Sam wasn’t strong enough to literally hold her up. “Sam, let go, it’s okay, I got it,” Deena let her know.

Sam stepped back to let Deena land on her feet, but a second later she was back, wrapping her arms around Deena’s torso this time, holding just as tightly if not more. “You scared me,” Sam mumbled, her voice muffled by the way she had her face pressed against Deena’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Deena said. She let her arms fall limply at her sides. She still felt out of her depth with Sam, even after one of the best days of her life. Her instinct told her to make fun of Sam, who was moved near to tears. But her heart stopped her for unknown reasons. Instead, she let her cheek rest on top of Sam’s head. At the time, Deena was taller. “It’s okay,” Deena repeated. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m your best friend, remember? I don’t think I’m allowed to leave you now.”

Sam chuckled and finally dropped her arms. Deena felt a chill at the loss. “Do you promise?” Sam asked.

Deena frowned a little, but continued to smile. “I promise,” she said, finding it increasingly difficult to say not the blonde girl that had stumbled into her personal space earlier that day with tears still in her eyes.

“Okay,” Sam exclaimed. She leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on Deena’s cheek. She was so excited it nearly threw both of them off balance, and when she pulled back, they were both blushing. But they moved on quickly, that day. Sam took Deena’s hand and started leading her to a different spot in the wide and free space behind their houses. “My mom told me about a spa. It’s a place where they put mud in your face to make you pretty. We should try it.”

“I’m already pretty!” Deena protested.

“Yeah, you are,” Sam shrugged. “But maybe it can help me.”

“You are more than pretty, Sam,” Deena frowned.

That made the blonde girl stop in her tracks. “Do you think so?” She asked Deena, and the brunette nodded enthusiastically. Sam was thoughtful for a moment, but eventually shrugged, and tried to continue with her plans, clearly not completely believing the other girl’s words. She was stopped by Deena a moment later, refusing to go further.

“Hey, you didn’t make the promise too,” Deena pointed out.

“Oh! You’re right,” Sam nodded, very seriously. “Okay then… I promise to always be your best friend, and to never leave you, and… um, is there something else?” She looked up at Deena for guidance.

Deena grinned at her. “No, that’s it. That’s cool.”

The two girls started laughing again, and continued with their games for a long time. They did end up playing with the mud, and then tried to wash it off, creating a bigger mess, with the hose they found behind Deena’s house. 

Toward the end of the day, when the sun started to set, both girls were well aware that their parents would be coming out at any moment to call them back home. They chose to end their first day as best friends exactly how they started it. They lay on the grass in the backyard in between their houses, and they looked up at the infinite sky above them. There weren’t many clouds anymore, but the first stars were showing up in the sky, and they were more than happy to count them one by one. 

That was how it started. One perfect day, and dozens of them just the same. Sam ran away from her house to the backyard every time her parents were having a fight. Deena made her laugh until Sam couldn’t remember crying for anything other reason than pure joy. Sam picked the prettiest flowers she could find and gave them to Deena, and hugged her especially tight every time Deena fell down from the tree she loved to climb. From the Johnsons’ window, Deena’s mom watched them fondly, happy that her daughter had a friend. From the Frasers’ window, Sam’s mom watched them with a frown on her face, upset about Sam ruining her clothes. But they never had reasons to stop them from having fun, they didn’t have any reason to put barriers between their daughters. And the two girls couldn’t imagine a world where they would be anything but the best of friends.

Much like everything in Shadyside, their perfect days would soon come to a bitter end but, even then, it wouldn’t be the end of Sam and Deena’s story.

[hotchnisslovechild]

On the Sidelines

Chapter One

Holly and Marvyn meet and have a few beers.

A/N: i've recently fallen in love with the show big shot and grown quite attached to the relationship between holly and marvyn. i'll be needing something to hold me over as i wait for season 2 to be announced and released *fingers crossed*, so i thought i'd write a little something about these two. i’m not sure if any of you on here watch the show at all, but i feel like posting this here anyway. i recommend binging the first season of the show on disney+ :)

Pairing: Marvyn Korn/Holly Barrett (Big Shot) Rating: T Word Count: 2,302 AO3 Link

Today is the day. The day Holly gets to meet her new coaching partner and the team meets their new head coach. Changing into her practice clothes, something resembling both anxiety and excitement burrows itself in Holly’s nerves. Her thoughts run wild as she anticipates meeting the great Coach Marvyn Korn for the first time.

Holly would be lying if she said she didn’t have a little crush on Coach Korn. Of course, she admired his great looks, but she found his coaching to be just as fascinating, if not more. Watching him coach was electrifying. He’s animated, excited, always moving around, unable to sit still for a single play. He saw the court and everything happening all at once, managing his players like a brilliant conductor of an orchestra. She learned a lot from him by studying his coaching methods at Wisconsin from the comfort of her living room couch. He unknowingly taught her about defensive schemes and rotations, end-of-game scenarios, the importance of teaching your players every detail of the game and correcting their mistakes so they can improve. He undoubtedly loved the game and coaching it. His enthusiasm for the sport was infectious to his team in every game, and it paid off. That was until he threw it all away. And ended up here, at an all-girls private high school in California.

Taking a deep breath, the assistant coach walks into her office, her excited nerves to make a good impression mingling with her eagerness to get the season started with a new coach.  After tapping Shave and a Haircut on the window separating her office from Marvyn’s, she lets herself in, extending a hand to greet him.

“Holly Barrett, Assistant Coach,” she greets with an enthusiastic smile, borderline out of breath from the anticipation of finally meeting him. She studies him. His looks. His demeanor. He looks better than he did on TV — if that’s even possible. She finds his dark features beguiling. And those eyes. She could get lost in those light-colored eyes. There’s a lack of actual light in them, however. He seems unenthused, maybe a bit on edge. But she shrugs it off, attributing the lack of energy to nervousness.

“Marvyn Korn,” he says, shaking her outstretched hand, holding on to it a bit longer than necessary, caught off guard by the bright energy of the woman standing before him. She’s the first person at this school to greet him in a way that resembles any sort of kindness. No one at Westbrook wants him there. Hell, he doesn’t even want to be there. This is just one step towards getting back to college ball.

“It’s a great honor, Coach,” she says, letting go of his hand and walking towards the front of his desk, “I’m a big fan. You have no idea,” she admits, trying her hardest not to come across as creepy or weird. They are going to be working together pretty closely for the next few months, so she wants to start things off right with him, not scare him away or freak him out. She’s sure he’s already a bit freaked out being transplanted into an all-girls high school after coaching college men for so many years, and she’s not caught off guard when he then asks her for advice on coaching girls.

“Well, I'm tempted to say just treat 'em like the boys,” she starts, debating whether or not she wants to continue that thought. It’s probably not the best idea to offend the head coach on his first day on the job.

“But?” he pushes.

“You didn't treat the boys so well,” she answers matter-of-factly.

“Do you have any advice that might actually be helpful?”

She tells him that the girls on this Westbrook team are future leaders who are anxious to get started and can be a bit much. “Don’t pretend, they’ll see right through it,” she adds finally. And I’ll see right through it she thinks. “Other than that… let’s go coach some basketball,” she says brightly.

Marvyn tries his best not to roll his eyes as he gets up from his chair and heads onto the court to meet the girls. He doesn’t want to be there. He doesn’t want to coach a bunch of rich high school girls. Everything about this gig is a demotion for him. From college to high school. From men to girls. His disregard for this job is anything but hidden as he walks out of his office, dreading the official start of his role as Head Basketball Coach at Westbrook.

Holly follows closely behind him, excited and ready for a fresh start with a new coach to work with. Their previous coach had been nothing short of insufferable, constantly telling Holly she had no say in the team, diminishing her role as a coach, making it clear she was not in charge. Despite his harshness towards Holly, he coddled the girls on the team, always telling them what they wanted to hear. The lack of discipline never got the team anywhere, but Holly bit her tongue, knowing that whatever she had to say didn’t matter to her then-colleague. Marvyn gives her a sliver of hope for the team’s future and hers. She knows Marvyn will run things differently, and she hopes that this change will be a good change.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After one practice and not even one drink into their casual rendezvous at a sports bar, Holly concludes that Marvyn certainly is different from their previous coach, but she’s hesitant to consider the change a positive one. He takes the game too seriously, prioritizes the end goal of winning and success over the feelings of the girls on the team. To him, they are just pawns in his own lifelong game of basketball. They are X’s and O’s, not individuals worthy of being treated with respect. He practically committed every sin of working with teens in the book. He demeaned them, embarrassed them, and disrespected them all in the span of one practice.

“My life is basketball,” he begins, “Everyone in my life are basketball players. A good coach can't be successful if he becomes friends with his players.”

“What about after work?”

“There is no after work. Not if you wanna win. There's diagramming plays, there's watching tapes, the recruiting, but there's no after work.”

Holly lets out a breath. His version of reality is nearly incomprehensible to her. Never in her life has she met someone more polarizing and stuck in his way than this man in a tracksuit sitting in the booth with her. She almost feels sorry for him. He doesn’t have any friends, and he spends all of his time thinking about basketball and how to make his team better.

“I guess I don't have to ask what happened to your marriage,” Holly says boldly, venturing into the untouched territory of his personal life as she takes a sip of her beer.

“Nope. What happened to yours?” he returns. He checked her out in the teacher portal the day before. He’s all about preparation, and that does not exclude doing some research on his assistant coach.

Her eyes grow wide. How the hell did he know I was previously married? She thinks to herself. “None of your business,” she retorts, sidestepping his question as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, not wanting to air out her dirty laundry in front of her colleague, especially considering they just met some few hours ago.

“It is my business. Add to that, you opened the door because you asked about my marriage.” She scoffs in response, now regretting bringing up the topic of failed marriages.

Marvyn opens up about his divorce first, telling her that his wife left him, which Holly deduces was because Marvyn is such a workaholic. “She figured that she deserved more, that she could do better. So she did,” Marvyn explains. “Your turn.”

“Same,” she utters, wanting nothing to do with this conversation any longer, “He realized he could do better.”

“Why?” He pushes once more, his stubbornness starting to set Holly’s nerves on fire.

“None of your business,” she says, her voice laced with more attitude than she intended.

“If it speaks to your character, it is my business.”

Looking down at her lap, Holly lets out a quick breath. She has her back up again the door of the closet, refusing to expose the skeletons locked in there. Her marital past is not something she’s particularly proud of or that she looks back on with much joy. It’s hard to talk about without feeling embarrassed, feeling ashamed that she had an affair with a man named Matt, who happened to be her husband’s best friend.

The neglect from her husband eventually pushed her over the edge to do what she would never forgive herself for. The person who was supposed to love her the most in this world stopping caring. She was left unfulfilled and disconnected from the man she once loved. He was absent. Even when he was there, he wasn’t actually there. They didn’t even bother to fight anymore. They simply coexisted in a house that no longer felt like home.

She really wasn’t thinking at all when it happened the first time. She had an itch to scratch, and Matt was there.

“I cheated on him,” Holly discloses finally, “I had an affair. Worst thing a spouse can do, I suppose. Short of neglect, maybe,” she explains, purposefully vague, hoping he doesn’t interrogate her further.

“Are you saying my betrayal was worse?” he asks, suddenly feeling defensive.

“I’m saying his was worse. But yeah, yours too, I guess, if that's what you're guilty of.” The weight of her words hangs in the air between them. He watches as she shifts once more in her seat, visibly uncomfortable with the level of openness of the conversation.

Holly sighs. “Wow. This is a really nice ‘How do you do? Let's get a beer’,” she says with a subtle bite of sarcasm, avoiding his gaze and reaching for her beer.

“This isn't a ‘How do you do? Let's get a beer’. You have an agenda.” She rolls her eyes at his accusation, although there is some truth to it. She does have something she wants to talk to him about. “You clearly have an agenda, so get to it.”

“You are profoundly unlikable. You know that, right?” She doesn’t even try to hide the sourness of her tone.

“You're just scratching the surface. If you have something to say to me, please say it. 'Cause I'd like to get back and work on the Laguna game.”

God, he’s so fucking persistent. “Okay.” She set aside her beer, leaning in towards him. “Marvyn, these are high school girls we are working with. I know your tried-and-tested ways of coaching got you far at the collegiate level, but these girls can’t be treated like they are men in college.”

“And why not?” Her point evidently went right over his head.

“Because they are different. They don’t handle criticism like those men do. They take things personal. They won’t be responsive to your derogatory, hotheaded way of giving feedback or your ‘my way or the highway’ mentality. These girls need to be inspired and supported, not embarrassed and disrespected. These girls don’t just kiss the ring. If they aren’t respected, they are going to try to get the upper hand. And they are quite good at it.”

“They’re not gonna get the upper hand with me,” he counters.

“Look at how scared of this you are.” She can’t understand how it’s so hard to just receive these girls as the complex people they are. This team won’t get anywhere if he doesn’t let go of all his unreasonable preconceptions and connect with these girls. He’s so stuck in this mindset that the team is beneath his abilities that he doesn’t realize he could actually learn something from these girls. And he shouldn’t be afraid of that. Holly is always learning new things from her students and players. When is Marvyn going to get it through his head that he can learn from these girls just as much as they can learn from him? It’s a two-way street.

“This is another thing. You don’t know me,” he snaps defensively, “so don’t pretend that you know me.”

“I don’t want to know you,” she says coolly, “I just want what’s best for the team,” she assures him, feigning sincerity, telling him exactly what he wants to hear whether it’s what she wants to say or not.

“Yeah.” He nods his head, thinking she’s finally seeing things from his point of view.

“Is that a good answer?” she asks as she raises her eyebrows, revealing the insincerity of her previous words. His face drops, catching on to her little game. She’s irritatingly clever.

The conversation comes to a quick end, interrupted by the other patrons of the bar cheering and applauding, celebrating a touchdown in the football game playing on all of the TVs.

They find themselves back in that same booth at the same sports bar the next night. As they sip on their beers, Marvyn expresses his doubts about coaching this team, telling Holly that he just doesn’t think he can do it.

“What else?” he asks after bringing up everything that’s happened with the girls in just his two first days, speaking so frantically Holly could hardly keep up. “What the hell else?” His apparent distress over coaching a bunch of high school girls makes her laugh. You would think the world was coming to an end based on how he was acting.

“I know. You're not prepared. Welcome to high school,” she quips.

“I- I had no idea what I was in for.”

Clearly.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Under A Storm - Bucky Barnes x mystery (f)reader Avenger

Summary: You’ve been in love with Bucky for awhile now, and so has he, what will happen when you reveal your true origins? Will he still love you?

Warning: got some good’ol angst, fluffy times with Bucky I don’t hate you I promise

Masterlist

“I think I’m winning. Just putting that out there.” You quip, not even breaking a sweat as Bucky uses everything in his power to get your arm to budge, even just a little.

“I’m trying...just give me a moment..” Grumbles Bucky as he strains to keep his metal arm from reaching defeat at the end of the table.

For the entirety of the day the two of you have been wandering around the Avengers base with nothing better to do then annoy Tony in his lab, and harass Clint who’s recovering from a broken arm while everyone else is off somewhere in the Netherlands, probably freezing their asses off.

Luckily for you, Steve said this was your vacation week, while Bucky on the other hand was told to hang back while his abdominal scars heal up nice and pretty. And since you could care less about heading down south to some fancy and excessively hot beach all on your lonesome, you’ve decided to keep your friends company. Especially Bucky.

But if you’re being honest with yourself here, you mostly just stayed to spend time with Bucky. Ah yes, that beautifully handsome blue eyed bastard with the metal arm and incredibly good looks paired with an equally as stellar personality.

It’s almost like the universe said “I know you’ve had a hard time down there so here’s this literal angel for you, you’re welcome, lots of love now go and do nothing about it sucker.”

It’s not like you didn’t want to make a move, it’s just, you’re origins are so different from his. In fact, your ass isn’t even from earth! You’re not even an actual human being! Granted you look humanly enough, separate from the fact that you’ve got a beautiful pair of darkly colored curled horns, and eyes the color of fire embers that reflects light due to your nocturnal vision.

But other then those little oddities about yourself, you look pretty normal, even more so when wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. Which has become a staple of your usual street attire in general and even when on missions.

Even with all the mystery that still surrounds you and that you’ve kept hidden within yourself since you’ve met him, Bucky likes having you around anyway, and without a doubt you are his favorite person on the team.

Smiling adoringly, you chuckle while Bucky struggles to pin your arm to the table, while your arm holds his up with little effort due to your inhuman strength.

He’s trying really hard, putting all of his effort and sweat into winning this round, which would be the first if he does happen to win, which you already know won’t be happening today, nor the next week.

“Just give me a moment.” Mutters Bucky through clenched teeth as his metal arm adjusts and readjusts to use as much strength as physically possible by this special Wakandian tech.

Blowing air out of your lips, you casually rest your head against your knuckles on your free hand as you wait for him to finally crack, “Just tap out or I’ll pin you again. And I know how much you hate losing.”

“I’m not tapping out Y/N.” Says Bucky defensively as he focuses all his energy into moving your arm even just an itty bitty inch, something, anything.

“Fine then.” You reply before slamming his metal arm against the table with a loud clang that rings throughout the entire lounging area. He quickly gives you an annoyed look as your face turns into a bright grin.

“I hate you.” Grumbles Bucky as he leans back into the couch.

Snatching your water bottle from the side table, you take a swig before shrugging, “We don’t have room in this house for weak bitches. Barnes I’m sorry to say this but....you’ve gotta go.”

Bucky shakes his head in annoyance before the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle, followed by his beautiful smile and then that contagious laugh. “Y/N I couldn’t make it without you, please be kind.” He pleads jokingly as you set the bottle down.

“I’ll consider your words.” You muse with a dramatic hair flip as he reaches over to take the half empty bottle of water, drinking it all in one long chug that has you memorized for a good ten seconds.

Snapping out of your Bucky-being-unknowingly-hot-without-realizing-it trance, you quickly fake pout, “My water you ass!”

“I’m from Russia so it’s our water.”

“Shut up you just lived there.” You retort before giving him a double take, “And hey.”

“Ah, come on doll let’s go bother Clint again.” Suggests Bucky as he rises to his feet and walks around the table to pull you to yours as well. God all you wanna do is kiss that stupid face of his and shove him back down onto the couch and...

“Hey guys what’s up.” Chirps Clint as Bucky wanders into Tony’s lab, you following right after.

Nodding to him in acknowledgment, you casually shrug while looking around at the various contraptions and work-in-progresses, “Oh you know, the usual.”

“Here to lighten up the place? Things were getting pretty dull.” Confirms Clint just as Tony walks out of the bathroom.

“I heard that. And what? Are we not having fun? Are you not entertained?”

“I’m entertained all right.”

“Exactly.” Points Tony before shifting his attention over to Bucky, “Speaking of entertainment. I need you for a little something out back involving a knife and you throwing it at a couple things I’ve been testing out.”

“He’d love too.” You add with a beaming grin as Bucky turns to glare at you, noticing his agitation you quickly take a step forward and squeeze his shoulders, “Right?”

Pursing his lips together, Bucky turns his head to face an expectant Tony before glaring back down at you, “Sure.”

“Alright great! Just follow me and let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Claps the genius enthusiastically as he gathers a bag full of various materials, making certain to snatch a camera before making for the door. Oh, you’ve gotta watch that tape later.

Releasing your grip from Bucky’s broad shoulders, you hand him a small smile, “Hehe sorry.”

“You owe me you little asshole.” Jokes Bucky with an apprehensive smirk as he swiftly touches your chin affectionately before turning to jog out the door after Tony.

Smiling like a fool in love, you suppress a childish giggle as Clint loudly slurps down a smoothie, ��You got it bad kid, you really do.”

Raising a brow at him, you walk over to the swivel chair he’s seated comfortably on and take the free spot on the table nearby, “I’m almost as old as the dinosaurs so don’t call me kid.” You sass, causing him to chuckle.

“Fair point. But still, you’ve got it bad Y/N.” Rolling your ember irises, you let out a huff of air as he grins knowingly, “Decide on telling him anytime soon or are we waiting for something tragic to happen first?”

“I’ll get around to it.” You mutter unenthusiastically as Clint takes another long pause to awkwardly suck down his weirdly colored smoothie.

“Sure. Okay, and I believe the earth is flat.” Snorts Clint, his words absolutely dripping in sarcasm.

Scoffing you throw a dirty cloth at him before letting your head fall into your hands, “It’s too fucking difficult Clint. I’m too goddamn weird.”

“What?” Laughs Clint in bewilderment, genuinely surprised that you would say such a thing considering he’s know you for years and finds that completely false, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“No it’s true.” You mumble against your palms, “He doesn’t know about everything about me yet, I don’t wanna freak him out just as he’s starting to like me alright.”

“Ah, so he does like you.” Confirms Clint with a knowing nod, “I knew it.”

“Yeah me too.”

Nodding slowly once again, the archer stands and makes the less then 1 foot distance to reach you. Head still in your hands, he gently knocks a fist against one of your horns as you try your best to ignore his existence.

“Knock. Knock. Anyone home?” Asks your friend as he awaits in hope that he can talk some real sense into you about your strong feelings for Bucky. “Please, I know you’re in there Y/N, time to open up.”

Cracking a smile at his theatrics, you slowly release your head from your palms to greet him with an annoyed half glare, “By the way I am not waiting for something terrible to happen. I have my reasons okay.”

“Your reasons being...”

Biting your lip, you pull your legs up to sit cross legged on the table, “You don’t get it Clint, I’m me alright. I’m not from this planet, I’ve got horns, I can sense peoples emotions, and since my mother is Goddess of the Underworld I’m technically herald of bringing this earth to a bloody and violent end!” You shout as he keeps the most irritating of faces on, making your anger rise by the second.

“Isn’t it nice to talk about our feelings.” Replies Clint in the most soothing voice you’ve ever heard, if you weren’t so flustered right now you could probably have laughed.

“Fuck off Clint I’m in love and he doesn’t know that shit part about me.” You grumble with a frown, “Bucky doesn’t know anything.”

“Well...” Wonders Clint for a brief moment, “Maybe he should. I mean you said it yourself, he does have affections for you.”

“Oh I know he does, every time I’m around him he smells like what happiness and love smells like.”

“Which is?”

“Hard to describe in this world, but it’s the best smell in existence.” You admit with the smallest of smiles as you think about Bucky, “Clint why do I have to feel this way? Why does he have to love me? I’m destined for terrible things....or, well...I was, but still.”

Noticing how your eyes have suddenly glossed over, Clint holds your shoulder while giving you a reassuring smile, “Y/N, listen to me. You will never do anything like that, you’re too morally correct and are almost the embodiment of a kitten for that shit anyways. And I know Bucky will love you either way, because he’s Bucky and that man needs a wild woman like you in his life to keep things interesting. You’ll be fine, believe me.”

Shutting your eyes tight, you reveal the tiniest of smiles before looking at Clint, “Maybe you’re not just a pretty face after all. Thanks Clint I needed that.”

Taking a step back, be claps his hands together happily, “Why thank you. I’ve been watching a lot of Ted talks on our higher purpose and motivation recently and you gave me the perfect opportunity to test my insight.”

“Clint you’re ridiculous.” You laugh, “But still, I think it’s time to tell him. I just hope he’s okay after all is said and done because I don’t know what I’d do with myself if he walks away.” You worry.

“Well if he does I make the best margaritas...”

“Shut up.”

——

For the past half an hour your mind has been swimming with worries and thoughts about how Bucky may react when you tell him the full truth of your origins, and possible future that you’ve fought to keep away since you walked into this world.

He’s only a man, a full mortal, but you have grown to love him so much it hurts sometimes.

Your ember eyes watch as the trees sway back and forth with the moody wind who pushes and pulls them back. A storm is on the rise as giant puffy dark clouds appear in the far distance, causing the once sunny day to darken.

You slouch lazily in your comfy plush lounging chair, one that you easily dragged over to the nearest giant window to watch the clouds race by while you wait for Bucky to return. Getting lost in your drifting thoughts in the process.

“Guess we won’t be going for a walk today after all.” Interrupts Bucky from your jumbled mind, your head immediately turns to watch as he walks from the kitchen to your side by the window.

“Yeah, too bad. I’m not that mad though, I like listening to the thunderstorms.” You confirm with a casual shrug.

Bucky smiles down at you, head turning to watch as the wind rushes against the trees, “I guess there is a beauty in the chaos....but hey Y/N, you know what we could do now?”

Chuckling at his excited expression, you tilt your head up, giving him your full undivided attention, “I’m dying to know Buck.” You muse with a cute little smirk that unknowingly caused his heart to jump with happiness.

Breaking out into a shy smile, Bucky quickly runs his fingers through his less then shoulder length hair, “Uh, what do you say to a movie night? With me?” He asks cautiously, hoping you’ll say yes so he gets even the tiniest opportunity to maybe, possibly, cuddle you.

Your eyes shift back to the growing grey clouds as small water droplets flicker against the window, smiling to yourself, you swiftly stand and turn to face him, “That’s a compelling question...” You muse with a lopsided grin, your hand rising to touch the tip of your chin thoughtfully as he leans against the thick window with a bemused smirk, “And since you asked so nicely and look so very polite too, oh I guess it’d be a tragedy and lonesome night if I declined.” You laugh.

“It would be very lonely for sure.” Agrees Bucky, his face suddenly shifting to slight nervousness, “So uh....you in?”

Breaking out into a beaming grin, you playfully roll your eyes, “No shit I’m in.” You quip before walking past him and into the kitchen for a drink, Bucky following close behind.

He stops to lean his torso against the marble countertop as you fill up a glass of water, “Well I wasn’t completely sure, just checking.” He admits with a nervous chuckle. Bucky you are unbelievably adorable.

Finishing your drink, you roll your eyes as he hangs his head in slight embarrassment, “God Buck, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” You jest, causing his cheeks to dust pink as he rises his head to meet your shimmering irises. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, incredibly glad that you can’t read minds like Wanda.

Little does he know you can sense emotions, smell them even if they’re strong enough; and if Bucky doesn’t just smell of love and absolute joy right. It’s the most adorable thing in the whole entire world, there’s no fucking way you’ll refrain from admitting your feelings tonight. It just wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t.

“Hey I’m trying here.” He protests half defensively, pushing himself off the counter as you walk around and head for the door. He’s at your side in a second, smile on and eyes trained on nothing but you.

Keeping your eyes forward, you bite your lip as he stares, suddenly his metal arm gives you a slight friendly nudge and now you have no choice but to look at his dumb face, “You think I’m pretty?” He wonders with a mischievous smirk.

“Yeah.” You mutter before pushing him to the side as he’s drifted comfortably close to you, “Pretty annoying.” You retort, doing your best to hold in your laughter as he takes offense and grips his chest dramatically.

“Y/N you monster.” Gasps Bucky, mouth a-gap as he watches you casually shrug.

“I am evil and cold blooded what can I say.” You muse back, a smug grin on your lips that Bucky would like nothing more then to kiss right now. Yet he refrains, not today, he needs to gather his courage first.

Turning the corner to the Avengers sleeping quarters, he quickly stops when he realizes none of you know which room to take, tugging at his sleeve you hand him a calming grin, “We’ll watch in mine. You’re bed is too hard anyways.”

“It is not.” He argues.

“It is too.”

“Not.”

“Well it is so shut up.”

“Not.”

Pushing him into his door, you raise a brow at him, “Just get the movie, I’ll be in my room waiting for your annoying ass.”

Shaking his head at your humorous sass, he quickly salutes you before opening up his door, “What are we thinking? Horror? Comedy? Adventure? All three?”

Taking a step forward, you lean in closer to Bucky; almost testing the waters, before lightly pushing him backwards by his strong chest, “Surprise me.” You quip, wiggling your brow once for emphasis. He breaks out into an adorable crooked grin as he watches you leave and close your own door right across from him.

After making record time changing into your comfortable movie watching sweatpants and some ten year old shirt from Nat that says SHIRT in red letters with the R in a dull grey. Yeah, its one of your favorites; you race to turn the tv on as rain pounds against the glass, one flash of lightening strikes in the distance as a knock sounds at your door. Bucky.

Bolting for the door so fast you almost trip on a stray hoodie, you quickly regain your cool before taking a breath and opening up the metal door. You’re immediately greeted with the smiling face of Bucky as he holds a movie and two beers.

Leaning nonchalantly against the door frame you meet him with the chillest guise you can muster, “So, you come here often?”

Bucky instantly chuckles at your amusing antics as a small blush creeps out over his stubbled cheeks, “Only when I’m invited.” He replies before holding up the movie, “Is this one good?” Hell yes, and you’re now in my room.

Snatching it out of his hand you pull him fully into the room by tugging on his red shirt without much warning, he practically stumbles in, quickly regaining his balance while you shut the door and practically swagger over to the bed. Bucky following close behind.

You gracefully jump onto the comfortable mattress and twist into a seated position before grabbing some kind of hand held scanner, Bucky awkwardly shuffling to the bedside as he then moves to find a spot against the headboard as you fumble around with the movie and whatever device is in your hand.

Raising a brow he watches in curiosity, “Uh, Y/N. What exactly is that?”

“A movie scanner made by Tony. I scan said film and boom it translates to the tv no problem. Technology right.”

He nods in understanding as you press some button and suddenly the movie is on the tv screen, set and ready to play, “Woah.” He mumbles, genuinely in awe of the advanced tech of today. And how fast you were able to do that, god you’re just the best, he thinks.

A second later he flinches back as you throw a pillow at his side, “Shit sorry.” You mutter almost shyly while crawling to his side, “Heads up.”

“Yeah thanks for the warning. I’ll sit on the floor next time until you give me the all clear.” Sasses Bucky as you sit, grabbing the pillow and smacking him on the side of his head while also pretending not to notice your little theatric as you turn towards the screen. Very nonchalant.

Bucky on the other hand is left with some disheveled hair and the dumbest smile on his handsome face while you press play and grab a beer from out of his right hand, “I’m gonna take this.” You add before gasping in excitement, “You wanna watch something?! I have a party trick! It’s a good one too, you wanna see!”

“Please.” Snickers Bucky as you turn to face him better. He watches in awe as you raise the bottle to your left horn and in one calculated motion, use the sharp tip to crack open the beer bottle. “Wow.”

“I know right!” You exclaim with excitement, “It took me a week to perfect it. I just kept breaking the bottles neck and then Steve would drink after cause he can’t get drunk so.....uh yeah, you want me to open yours too?”

“I’d be honored.”

After drinking both your beers and watching the movie progress in relative peace, with the occasional gust of wind against the glass and a crack of thunder and lightening here and there. All was going pretty well, Bucky was laying on his one side while you were laying on your stomach totally engrossed in the film until....

Crack! BOOM! Darkness.

“Dammit! They were getting to the best part!” You whine, shifting around to sit while dramatically yelling out your frustration as Bucky turns to lay on his back, suppressing bemused laughter while you curse the shit excuse for efficient electricity in this place.

“It’ll come back on soon.” He inquires, “Guess you’ll just have to talk to me now.”

Snapping your head over to him, you scoff, “Why do I feel like you planned this?”

“I thought you planned this? Considering.....well, I guess I don’t really know.” He says thoughtfully, pausing for a moment before he hums, “We could ask each other questions.”

Y/N this is the absolute perfect opportunity, take it you lovestruck idiot, “Uh, yeah sure....I like knowing things.” You internally cringe, wanting to smack your head for that one; and you thought you could go a full hour without embarrassing yourself. Nope.

Nevertheless, Bucky smiles in the darkness, “Alright uh, let me think.......hmm okay uh.....where are you from? Since I’ve never really asked about that before.”

Well, fuck. I guess he’s going for the big guns straight off the bat.

Biting your lip anxiously, you twist a piece of frayed fabric from your one strange little pillow as you gather your courage to finally tell him everything. This is it, no holding back, “Oh uh.....well......you know I’m not from earth, yes?”

“Yeah, I did know that. The horns.”

“Right, good.” You mutter, your voice wavering with nervousness so much that Bucky sits up and turns to properly look at you even if he can’t really see your face.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He worries, brows furrowing in concern.

Hastily you regain your once dampened composure, “Yes! Yes.....yeah, I’m good. Awesome. Great....”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah.”

“Is it because you had a bad childhood?” Quips Bucky, using your own inside joke against you to help lighten the mood and make you laugh.

Snorting in amusement you smack his arm, Bucky mentally rejoices when he hears the sweet song of your happiness coming back, and the light sting of your always powerful hand.

“I didn’t have a bad childhood Bucky.” You admit, voice suddenly somber and thoughtful, “I didn’t even have a childhood.” Already getting depressing Y/N, nice one.

“oh.”

You shrug, letting out an apprehensive sigh as you look from the window then back to Bucky again, while he tries to watch your every move in the blackness of the room, “Bucky....there’s some things in this world that are so incredibly hard to comprehend and fully understand....you’ve seen the power Wanda can create and the talent of the mind stone inside Visions head. Yes?”

He sits in deep thought at your intriguing words, trying to piece together where you may be going with this, “Of course. What does that have to do with you?”

“I wasn’t actually born like a normal being....rather, I was formed and created by my mothers will and raw power. I was molded by earth, thunder, magic, and chaos.....I am.....well..” You sigh, “I don’t really know.”

“Well that’s......neat.”

Cracking a small smile, you continue on, lest confuse him more, “My mother...which I assume you’re curious about by now. She’s essentially, goddess of the Underworld, keeper of beasts and master of chaos. Some type of divine something, who can really say when I’m not even sure.”

Bucky stays silent for longer then you would like, each extra second making you grow more nervous and regretful for revealing all this to him. Soon enough he answers, “So that means.....Y/N you’re technically a demigod?”

“I guess.”

He pauses for another moment before gently shaking your leg, “Y/N! That is the coolest thing anyone has ever said to me in my entire life.”

“What?” Is he serious?

“You’re a demigod! I’m sitting next to a demigod. Y/N I didn’t think you could be any more amazing then you already are.” Exclaims Bucky in awe as you cover your face in your hands, a flash of lightning illuminating your reaction.

Immediately he stiffens and feels maybe he shouldn’t have reacted that way, “oh, uh.....Y/N? Is that not a good thing?”

“No. Not really.” You mutter sadly.

Bucky frowns, “Please tell me why? Because I think you’re the best person alive and I don’t want you to be upset.”

Releasing your hands from your face, you let out a shaky breath, “It’s why I was created. Not out of love, or the want of a daughter.....she formed me so one day I will turn this world to ruin.”

“Why-I don’t understand?”

“She has made me live among the mortal before, in other realms, other planets very far away from here.....I learn about them, I see how they live, how they treat one another and if she sees that they are terrible and violent to each other through what I tell her....”

“Well, I imprison their world leaders, forcing them witness portals open to the Underworld...where beasts of all ugliness and terror wipe out most of the population.” You reveal, your voice breaking with every word, “I then kill all of them......and turn them to more beasts....hellhounds.....shadow creatures.”

You swallow hard as Bucky takes a moment to process the heavy imagery and story you’ve just told him. You can sense how conflicted he feels, he’s known you as the literal funniest and sweetest person ever; he’s come to fall in love with you even, how could you do such horrible things, “Did you enjoy it.” He asks, voice slightly colder then you would have liked, but you understand.

“It’s all I knew. It’s what she created me for, my only purpose. Her herald of death..I..I can’t say..”

“Did you?” He interrupts, sadness lacing his words now, the anger and disappointment only but a slight simmering in the back of his voice.

Your heart breaks in two, he feels hurt by this news of what you did to others, “I did.” You monster. He’ll never love you now.

The atmosphere is thick with emotional tension, if not for the sound of the raging storm outside, you’re certain you could hear a needle hit the carpet. His breaths are slow and heavy, you can tell he’s deeply conflicted with what to do now, yet he refrains from leaving your side.

“Why did you stop?” Asks Bucky, voice a soft whisper as a flash of lightning illuminates around your sides, ember eyes and two curled horns flashing for a brief moment and your heart sinks when he slightly flinches.

Hanging your head low, you nervously fumble with your hands, “Because I met someone....he reminds me of you actually, I guess I felt...” Biting your lip, you suck in a breath as a stray tear runs down the side of your cheek, “I fell in love....it was a long time ago, before this continent was discovered. He gave me humanity, empathy, and I saw what I was truly doing....I bared witness to the monster I truly was. So I ended it.”

You pause, nothing is said from either one of you for a long time until at last you break the tension, “I don’t deserve forgiveness from anyone. I hate my mother and my only friends are the people here. You don’t have to stay any longer then you want.”

“I want to stay.”

“oh.”

He takes another heavy sigh, “And this whole time I though I was the worst person on the team.” Muses Bucky to your great surprise and puzzlement.

“What? You’re not mad I don’t understand? Not even scared or disappointed...you’re just...uh...”

“I’m what? Y/N what wild thing are you about to tell me now? I cut it off with learning you’re a demigod who caused multiple apocalypse’s.”

Slowly sitting up a bit more, you fold your legs and fully face him as he tries to see you in the darkness, “I can kinda....uh....sense peoples emotions and umm....smell the scent if its strong enough.”

“Can you sense what I feel right now?” Asks Bucky, voice above a whisper though you hear it all the same.

Hugging your sides, you nod, “Yes.” He’s practically ecstatic, he feels relieved and grateful that you have trusted him enough to share something so deep and personal. He smells sweet, better then the most lovely of flowers or most delicious of fruits. He smells of love and hope, paired with a smile that could warm a frozen lake.

Reaching a hand out into the darkness, you quickly take his with yours as he brings his other one in to gently clasp your hands with his, “Don’t believe I would ever leave you Y/N....you mean more to me then anything else in this entire world and I’m honored to be someone so special to you. I hope this isn’t too soon or rushed but uh....I love you.”

The way you subconsciously tighten your grip on his hands is enough to indicate that his words have been well received, “I know Bucky.” You confirm with a small smile, “I love you too.” A second later his lips crash messily against the corner of your lips as he fails to completely find them in the darkness. oh, you idiot.

Smiling into the kiss, you pull him into a fierce hug as your lips move slowly and blissfully against one another, his hands quickly find their way around your waist as yours reach up into his long dark hair that you love so much. Moments after you and Bucky fall in a heap of tangled limbs onto the soft mattress, lips still feverously locked with one another. Soon he begins subconsciously smiling into the kiss which causes you to giggle with amusement for how absolutely adorable he’s being right now.

Confused to your cheerful laughter, Bucky breaks from the kiss to gently beck your cheek before resting his head against yours, “I wish I could see you right now.” Mumbles Bucky as he holds you flush against him.

Kissing his stubbly cheek, you quietly snicker, “I can see you.”

“Let me guess?” Humorously asserts Bucky as his fingers trail casually down and up your back, “You can see in the dark too......this whole time?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I look good?” He wonders.

“I’m gonna faint you’re so hot.”

And with that said does he pull you in for another heated embrace, tonight's defiantly going to go extremely well for you. Without a doubt.

[checkurwindow]

you’re smiling, right?

Book: Open Heart

Warning: a pinch of suggestive material Rating: General Pairing: Ethan x F!MC Word Count: 3200+  Author’s note: A sequel to “i’m so scared”, angst, angst and more angst. I love this fic so much. Check out my masterlist for more!

He should have done more.

She looked so small and frail in the hospital bed, a stark contrast from her usual healthy and fit form. With her hands resting on her stomach, rising and falling in sync with her low breathing, it reminded Ethan too much of death. He impulsively reached out, stopped himself, then reached out again to shift her hands so it laid at her sides. 

His hands were quivering, his breath was more shaky and heavier than even hers. He wasn’t supposed to be there, he wasn’t on call and visiting hours were long over, but he was Doctor Ethan freaking Ramsey, world-class attending, which was exactly what he told the nurse who came in a while ago. He wasn’t forceful, he hadn’t demanded (something that rarely occurred), but he figured the nurse had let him stay not because of his position, but because she heard his raw and thready voice, or maybe it was his red and slightly swollen eyes that gave it away, maybe because he looked like he was prepared to leap out the window.

To be truthful, he was. But he held on because he had hope that the light at the end of the tunnel was nearing. She was improving, only by an incredibly small margin, but improving nonetheless. That’s what he told himself: she was getting better, she’ll be fine. 

Lying was bad, but sometimes lying to himself was the only option he had left.

He should have done less.

It was all his fault. It was his idea to bring up that stupid clinical trial, it was his actions that pushed her away, it was his fault that he wouldn’t even be able to say goodbye now. The knowledge that if he hadn’t done anything, he would still be able to hear her voice one more time, to see her smile, to hear her laugh, it ate away at him.  

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She said to him when he first told her about it. He should have listened to her, she was always right, but he wanted her to get better so damn badly that he made it worse. 

“It’ll work, I know it will,” He told her when she started feeling so weak from the drugs that she could barely sit up in bed without her chest heaving. If only he hadn’t gotten involved, she wouldn’t have to go through so much pain, he wouldn’t have to go through the pain of seeing her like that either. 

He stood in the corner of the well-decorated hospital ward that felt so empty without her joyous personality to fill it. It was strange, really. He had been in more hospital wards than he could count, he broke the news to sobbing patients and family members without feeling much of his own emotions, but even entering the vicinity of her room could make him break down in a fit of sobs. 

Letting himself slide down onto the cool floor, he curled his fists tighter in his green leather jacket, wrapping it around his shoulders as best as he could. It smelled of a number of things, the most significant being her. It smelled of cheap alcohol, of cigarettes, and sweat, it smelled of those trashy clubs he never liked to go to, but loved it whenever he went with her. 

“Doctor Ramsey?” The voice and a knock on the door made him peel his eyes away from where she laid on the bed in the middle of the room. 

It was the nurse from earlier. Taylor, he vaguely remembers her name from before. She had a piping cup of hot coffee in one hand, a bun in the other, both undoubtedly subpar and from the cafeteria. 

“Thanks,” is all he mumbled when he received the items from her, lazily tossing the bun onto the bedside table as she slipped out and back into the hallway. 

The coffee wasn’t whiskey, which was what he told himself he really needed at that moment, but at the very least it was enough to keep him awake a while longer, enough for him to continue watching over her. Because he would, he’d stay up all day and all night until she woke up and he gets the chance to say he’s sorry, even though Ethan Ramsey never apologises; but if she did, if she just opened her eyes, he’d do anything she wanted him to. 

And if she didn’t. Well, he just hoped he wouldn’t have to find out anytime soon. 

He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

There was a point where rage met serenity, where the anger and the storm that roared would settle, the point before all hell broke loose. It was the eye of the hurricane, where the pain and the fury that built up inside of him just stalled, paused, and there was a moment of peace, the calm before the storm. 

That was where Ethan found himself now. He was enraged, but too tired and helpless to do anything about it, so he did nothing. The world grew quiet and his skin went numb. The rain no longer stung against his bare flesh, the pain that had erupted in his chest faded to a sort of hollow feeling between his ribs. The shouts that came from his throat grew silent, and the fog that clouded his eyes cleared. Complete clarity, complete silence.

He remembered the way the adrenaline pumped through his blood as he stood in front of the classroom. The time he found her friendly smile amid the sea of judgement. 

He smiled at the memory of running away in the evenings in search of exciting adventures in their teenage years, how carefree and unknowingly in love they were with each other. He could remember the sound of her voice, every small agreement and hum as he rambled on and they drove late into the night, nowhere in particular they had to be. He could remember the sound of tires on a lonely stretch of highway, and the crackling of the radio in between their favourite songs. He could remember the sound of her almost obnoxiously enthusiastic singing slowly turning to a quiet mumbling as they drove further and further away from everyone else, just the two of them. 

He could remember the sound of her breath in between kisses, the mattress shifting under them as they melted into one another. That day was so clear in his head, the day after he told her, the day after she told him. The drastically different pieces of information they gave each other was uneasy at first, but they soon agreed that they had waited too long to not be with each other. He remembered the steady beating of her heartbeat as he held her close.

He could remember the blissful sound of her laugh; her real, hysterical, full-of-wheezing laugh, the one that erupted from her chest whenever they shared something as personal as an inside joke or something as simple and stupid as finding each other’s gaze in the middle of a terrible school presentation. He could remember every math formula or history fact she repeated to herself while studying for finals, in hopes of achieving her dream of being a doctor and getting the chance to help people. He could remember every note, every chord, every lyric of every one of those acoustic, raw pop songs that she loved so much throughout the years. He could remember the sound of puddles splashing and metal fences clanging as they ran away from a place they weren’t supposed to be at in the first place. 

He could remember the moment when he woke up in her bed, his nostrils intoxicated by her scent that he loved so much and his arms wrapped around her, her head nestled deep in his side, all the what if’s filling his head, imagining what could’ve been if only those few little things were different. He could remember the way his fingers gently traced those three little words endlessly on the skin of her forearm, and the way she let him go on and on for who knows how long while she was awake before she finally mumbled a single, “love you too” and they contently drifted back to sleep. 

He could remember being held back by her friends as he helplessly watched the code team rush into the room, desperately hoping that they could help her, that they could help him. He could remember the feeling of pain in his throat as he let out a desperate scream when he saw them step away from where she lifelessly laid, the doctor looking down to his watch and calling time of death. 

He could remember the way he felt when Lahela came to their his apartment and cracked the type of joke that she would have told him, the kind he used to enjoy hearing from her, but despised it when it came in somebody else’s voice. He could remember when Bryce quietly uttered a pitiful “I’m sorry” and handed him an envelope. He couldn’t muster up the strength to find out what was inside, so for a long time, he didn’t.

He couldn’t admit it to himself that she was dead and his whole world had fallen silent.

One day, when he finally felt ready to face the music, he went into his living room, picked up one of the throw pillows she bought him to “add a little bit of colour to your monochrome world”, he unzipped it from the side, stuck his hand in and retrieved the letter. 

He peeled off the little sticker holding the envelope together and let his hand run over her handwriting on the paper. And for the first time, he finally felt like he was ready to admit that she was actually gone.

To Ethan, 

     Did Bryce crack a joke or try to cheer you up before he handed you this letter? Did Jackie tease you with an obviously fake amount of sarcasm because she’s too scared to say that she’s been crying? Did Elijah offer to come over to our your place and insist on having a Marvel movie marathon, or offer to watch those boring nature documentaries that you’re too embarrassed to admit you enjoy but everybody already knows you do? Did Sienna bring you all our your favourite baked goods and groceries and enough home-cooked food to feed you and Jenner for the rest of the month? Because I know you, and I know you won’t be able to go out to get your own, and I don’t want you to have to live off my old instant noodles, even though they’re great (for taste, not nutrition).

     Well, they should have, because I specifically asked them to do every single bit of it, and I’ll be mad if they don’t force you to take their help, even though I know you’ll try your best to convince them that you’re okay, but I know for a fact that you aren’t. 

     I don’t want you to shut everyone out of your life now that I’m gone, because I won't be there to help you open back up when you’re ready. I want you to embrace their help and maybe even embrace them. (What? A girl can’t dream?) 

     Most importantly, I don’t want you to feel empty. It’s perfectly fine to feel sad and to grieve, but don’t let yourself feel empty. I’m still here, I always will be, which means I’ll be watching you, so I don’t want you to associate me with sadness, because I deserve so much better than that and you know it. 

     I want you to get everyone together, and I mean everyone. Pick a place to sit down (extra points if it’s on a roof with lots of alcohol, ask Bryce about that) and talk about your favourite memories of me. I know everyone has good ones. I’m giving you explicit permission right now to tell them about the...snorkeling incident, only because I love you so much and I know you’ve been dying longing to embarrass me and tell everyone about what happened. You remember it, right? Y’know what, I’m gonna take this time to get ahead of the story so you don’t paint me in too bad of a light.

     It was two years ago, you had just discharged a very wealthy patient. Who, for the record, was totally into you, I mean the lady took every opportunity possible to sneak a look at your ass (I should know, as I would’ve done the same thing in her position). She gave you the contact number to her travel agency, where she had booked a 3-day trip to an ultra-swanky private island holiday that she and her husband couldn’t go to as she was on bed rest for another week. 

     You were going to refuse it and let it go to waste (like the idiot you were are), but I convinced you that we could make it a friends’ getaway from the busy Boston life, and you agreed.

     4 hours and a lot of owed favours to cover shifts later, we were toes deep in the smoothest sand I’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing in my life. The only thing your patient failed to mention was that it was a couples retreat, which we definitely weren’t (back then, at least). It was too late to go back, so we just decided to make the most of it. 

     We were snorkeling, and I was having the time of my life...until I spotted a jellyfish. I know you’re laughing at this right now, so stop it. I panicked and started yelling for you to swim back to shore, but you came to me instead, and in the midst of all the panic, I got stung. It was a pain to swim back to shore, and I was totally gonna ask you to pee on my leg if the stinging continued (as a last resort, because I’m not that gross), but you knocked some sense in me by reminding me that white vinegar works so much better. 

     It would’ve been all fine if it ended there, but it most definitely did not. The lifeguard didn’t have any vinegar, but the restaurant was nearby. I practically sprinted into the kitchen and stole the first bottle of vinegar I could find, somehow dodging all the guards that were shouting at me. (I’m fairly sure I’m still a wanted patron there, but I’m not going back anytime soon)

     We made it back to our suite, the pain had subsided a little but the swelling wasn’t looking like it would anytime soon. I passed you the bottle to open...and it wasn’t vinegar. I still have no clue how my mind was THAT clouded that I grabbed a bottle of vodka instead of vinegar. There was no way I was going back to the restaurant, so I snatched the bottle back and took a swig, and oh god was it strong. I think the burning at the back of my throat was worse than whatever the jellyfish could’ve done to me. And you were laughing, you were laughing so hard at me, who was in so much pain, and I’m pretty sure I heard a snort in between your uncontrollable fits of laughter, how dare you?? I know you’re still laughing at this now and I hate you for it. 

     We spent the rest of the night talking and drinking (and you making petty jabs at me), and it was the best night of my life, minus the whole jellyfish fiasco. The rest of the trip was even better, do you remember us pretending to be a couple to enter that competition and winning a private dinner on a yacht? I loved every second of it, and I didn’t know it yet, but I loved you too.

     You’re smiling, right? Good, because that’s exactly how I want it to be, I want you to smile when you think of me, I want you to remember all the good times we had, and forget the bad. I want you to be happy when you think of me, even though our last shared memory wasn’t the best one. When you think of me, hopefully you’ll feel the same way as I do when I think of you: lucky that I fell in love with the most incredible, generous, sweet, comforting person I know, and the person who’s been by my side right from the very first apple slice. 

     I know it’ll be hard, I know that you’ll struggle with all the firsts after me, the first time you go out, the first time you smile, the first time you visit me, the first shift you pick up at the hospital, the first time you feel happy without me, the first person you can talk to about all the things we used to talk about late at night when I couldn’t sleep, the first time you get nervous and you heart starts to race just by the sight of someone else, the first kiss you have without feeling guilty that it isn’t me you’re sharing the moment with, the first I love you with someone else. As much as I want to be the one you share all of it with, the one you spend the rest of your life loving, I can’t. But I still want you to have it, every single little bit of good that you have, I want you to keep it and treasure it, because you deserve it. You deserve all the good in the world and so much more. 

     Most importantly, I want you to move on. Shed all the tears that you need to and hold on to every one of my possessions for as long as you need, hide in as many supply closets and pour your feelings out as many times as you need to, but one day I want you to be able to read this letter with a smile on your face and let the light of the world shine down on you, because that’ll be me up there, making sure you know that I’m always looking out for you.

     Since the first day I saw you in your little blue button-down, to when you helped me up when I fell off my bike, to when you sneaked me out of my dorm room to get midnight milkshakes, to when we passed our boards, to when you stood by my side at the trial during intern year, to when we had that picnic at the park, to right now, as I write my letter to you, to the day I go, to the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that, and every single day after that. I don’t regret most of the things I’ve done in my life, even all the bad choices I’ve made. The only regret I have is not realising just how much I cared about you earlier, we could have been so much greater if we weren’t so stupid. It’s almost poetic, don’t you think?

     Eventually, one day, when I see you again, I’ll be able to tell it to you myself, but for now, you’re just gonna have to make it through with the words in this letter.

     I love you, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, now and forever. 

With every single ounce of my love,

Your best friend.

[something-fanfiction-ie]

I Thought I Dreamed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Dismembered body parts, mentions of blood, and that’s about it??

A/N: HOLY SHIT GUYS ITS FINISHED. Oh my goodness that was hard, I don’t understand why. I still hardcore hate it, but I love you guys too much to leave you hanging. So here is part two to Dreams. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for sticking around through my terrible writer blocks.

...

[ Part One ]

“You’re sure it isn’t just a concussion?” Your fiancé says, his voice cracking with nerves. The bathroom tile of your hotel room is cool beneath your legs, Spencer sits directly across from you with your feet in his lap and his fingers tracing worried patterns across your shins.

Above your head on the bathroom counter, is a pregnancy test that still has three more minutes to come up with a yes or no answer to the question you were pretty sure you already knew the answer to. Balanced in your lap is a book about dream analysis that you’d picked up on the way to the hotel tonight.

“I had a dream, Spence. This books says that nearly everything about my dream pointed to me being pregnant.” His eyes narrow, one hand reaching out to flip through the pages you’ve tagged with sticky bookmarks. Your soon to be husband is a book fanatic, you’d learned early on that dog-eared pages were the antichrist of all book lovers everywhere.

“If you are pregnant, I can assure you that the dream was just your subconscious telling you what it had already pieced together before your conscious mind.” The clock outside the bathroom door ticks slowly. You think back to the little boy in your dream, and as scary as having two children so close together in age may be, you can’t help but be a little excited at the thought of a baby Spencer in the world.

“You don’t believe in dream analysis, so your opinion on the matter is biased.”

“Arguably, every opinion is biased. No one person can be one-hundred percent objective no matter the circumstances.” He’d have Spencer’s eyes, Graeson does already and she’s not even half a year old. Was it wrong of you to hope that all your children with Spencer would look and be exactly like him? Hopefully, in terms of intelligence, they would both be carbon copies of their father.

The tears that come to your eyes surprise you when you think about him taking the kids to a museum, holding your son in his arms and one of his fingers wrapped in your daughter’s grasp as he explains every artifact and display. Hastily, you reach up to wipe at the streams of water that wet your cheeks. Spencer sets the book aside, leaning forward worriedly.

Ashamed of your sudden mood swing, another blatant sign that you could be pregnant, you avoid eye contact by staring at the clock.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle, his hands reaching out to smooth down the sides of your arms, “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” Your nose crinkles as you try to bite back the next onslaught of tears, hoping the last minute will go by fast. When you finally meet his gaze, the puddles of emotion that collected in your eyes spill over once again.

“You’ll take them to museums, right? You’ll make sure our kids aren’t dumb, right?” You don’t know why it’s so important to you, but the helplessness you feel is all too familiar as you recall a similar moment from your previous pregnancy.

“(Y/N). Breathe. Calm down.” You look up at your boyfriend from the bathtub, feeling not unlike a beached whale with your oversized stomach poking over the surface of the water surrounding you. The sides of the tub dig into your fingers as you grip the edges so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

“I can’t calm down, Spencer! I don’t have enough time. I’m not prepared. If I’m not prepared now then who is to say I’m even supposed to be a mother? What if I completely screw our kid up? I don’t-” The air in your lungs doesn’t feel like enough and it feels like all too much at the same time. You’ve never felt like this before, especially not in the middle of a relaxing bath.

Slowly, Spencer reaches into the tub and pulls the stopper out of the bottom. With his other hand, he helps to pull you to your feet and wrap you in a soft, pink towel. He keeps making shushing noises like it’s going to help the overwhelming anxiety of becoming a new parent and, as much as you love him, it makes you want to scream.

But just before you give into your urges, he steps in front of you and lowers himself so that you don’t have to look up to meet his eyes. Either one of his hands come up to cradle your cheeks, you wonder if he notices the weight you’ve gained there since you started nearing your due date.

“You won’t screw our kid up. We will, together.” And you can’t help but let the laughter bubble out of your chest as you lean into him, letting his arms wrap around you as you lay your soaking wet head over his heart.

“We will, together.” He says again, reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. When he closes the distance to press a kiss to your forehead, causing you to close your eyes and force a deep breathe in through your nose, he plucks the test from the counter.

“Spencer! I thought this was a together thing!” You jump to your feet, reaching for the test that he has hanging over your head just out of reach.

“It is babe, but you have the advantage of knowing before me when it comes to these things and I just really want to know first one time.” You whine in protest, trying to determine the results on the small pink stick by profiling his body language.

His hand still up in the air, he tilts the small window toward his face. Both eyebrows go up, but his expression stays emotionless otherwise. Not even a muscle in his cheeks twitch. He’s way too good at hiding things when he wants to.

“Spencer.” You warn in your best imitation of Hotch’s commanding voice, stretching back up on your toes, your fingertips brush the plastic siding before he wraps his free arm around your back and pulls you to his chest. His kisses are like soft butterfly wings against your cheeks, eyelids, chin, forehead, and eventually lips.

In the two years you’ve been with Spencer, there have been all kinds of kisses. Kisses of burning passion and simmering anger, kisses of a deep and slow love, kisses of overwhelming joy and uncontrollable relief, but it’s this kind of kiss you’ve only ever felt once before.

The hand holding the test comes down to cradle your face, a thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. It reminds you of the way an art enthusiast might reach out to touch a painting or sculpture in awe, his lips moving against your own like you were a Goddess that he was praying to with complete faith and devotion.

When he finally broke away, his eyelashes damp with happy tears (and maybe a few scared tears), the facade is shattered and you can read his face like an open book.

“You’re getting really good at that mom voice for someone with a five month old.” He teased.

“And one on the way?” You have to make sure, you want to hear it come from his lips. Screw the test.

“Did you dream it was a boy, because I think it would be really cool if we had a boy this time.” You laugh into his lips, throwing both arms around his neck and bringing him down to your level. The curls that sway at his shoulder brush against the crooks of your elbows before you tangle your fingers into his hair.

And then, just like the horny teenagers you two definitely were around each other, he bends down and swoops you into his arms. The high pitched squealing laugh that bubbled between both of your lips came from you as he started to turn back to the hotel room.

“Now I’m really gonna have to make up for lost time while I can.” He teases, turning sideways so your feet and head don’t hit the doorframe.

The next day, back on the case of the dead girls with missing hands, the team notices the different energy between you. Like the way Spencer’s mouth opens in protest when Hotch suggests you accompany Morgan to the house of a possible suspect. You glare daggers at him from the door, a silent conversation flying between you before he finally closes his mouth and sinks into his seat. It did not go unnoticed by every other person in the room.

Or the day after that, when you offer to go get coffee for everyone instead of letting them drink nasty precinct coffee. (Something you used to do a lot when you’d been pregnant with Graeson and the places you went didn’t have decaf.)

The biggest tip off is the passing of peppermints between you and Spencer, the young doctor having somehow found the time to go to a convenience store and buy a bulk sized bag of the red and white candies to help with your nausea. The bag crinkles when he reaches into his satchel every so often.

Despite the fact that they all catch on pretty quickly, nobody says anything. They figure that you’ll tell them when you’re ready. Instead they focus on the case, which had been your hope the whole time.

You’re near the end of the investigation at this point, sucking on a peppermint and racing for one of the two addresses that Garcia had sent to your phones. Just this morning, another body had been found. His fuse was getting smaller as the days had passed and the investigation crawled at an unusually slow pace, meaning you were cutting it close to the wire if you wanted to save whatever poor girl had unknowingly incurred this man’s wrath.

With you, on the way to the workplace of a Ryan Christopher, is JJ, Hotch, and Prentiss. Rossi, Morgan, and Reid have their own car headed for his home. You’re in the backseat, holding onto your stomach and the edge of the leather bench seat as Hotch races through traffic. Garcia is explaining her findings over the speakerphone, you can hear Morgan and Reid interjecting every so often with their own thoughts and comments.

It isn’t until the SUV that you’ve been sliding around in finally bumps into the parking lot outside of a carpentry workshop that Hotch ends the call. The boys on one of the other two ends of the line say their own salutations, also approaching the unsub’s home.

“Be careful!” Spencer shouts to you over everyone. It’s really cute. You would dwell on it more, but given the fact that you were about to walk into a possible altercation with an unsub, you decided that staying sharp and focused was the way to go.

Quickly, all three FBI Agents slip out of the car, clustering together long enough to come up with a game plan. You rush for the back door, JJ gets the side, and Hotch readies himself at the front. It isn’t until every room in the workshop is clear that a little tension leaves your shoulders.

It’s obvious that he’s been here though, with giant pools of blood dried onto a workbench in one of the rooms. And if you weren’t sure of this man’s guilt before, then the small freezer full of hands that is bolted shut is enough to convince you otherwise.

“What is the point in bolting something shut if you have bolt cutters lying in the same room?” JJ comments, tossing her pale gold pony over her shoulder before letting the tool settle against the strap of her Kevlar.

You turn away from the freezer to try and quell the rolling in your stomach.

“I’m going to call Morgan to see if they have anything.” At this point, they should have cleared the house or arrested him, making you feel comfortable enough to pull out your phone and dial Derek’s number. He answers on the second ring, his tone of voice telling you everything that you need to know.

“Hey Mamacita, I’m gonna go ahead and assume he’s not over there?” The rest of the tension that you had been unconsciously holding in your chest leaves with the breath of relief that deflates your lungs. You shake your head, walking away from the freezer of hands to tell him everything you’d found in the ten minutes you’d been inside the workshop.

“That’s just a little gross,” Morgan comments. “Hey Spencer- Spencer!” His voice goes up an octave, booming through the speaker and reverberating in your ear.

“Morgan?! Morgan, what’s wrong?!” The sound of the phone clattering to the floor and a single gunshot is the only response you receive before you’re racing back outside.

The tires of the SUV screech against the asphalt outside Ryan Christopher’s home. Your heart leaped out of your chest with the wild swing of the vehicle underneath you. Ambulances, SUVs, and police cruisers scatter the road and lawn in front of you, several faces lifting to find the source of the sound.

“(Y/N)!” JJ cried, white knuckling the arm of her seat and the ‘Oh Shit’ handle above her head. The car was barely in park when you fumbled for the latch of your seatbelt, kicking the door open and rushing into the hordes of first responders.

You should have never agreed to let them separate you from each other. That was the only thing you could think the moment you heard Morgan cry your fiancé’s name over the phone.

“Spencer?!” You pushed past a couple of local cops who shot you dirty looks when you shoved your way between them. Your eyes couldn’t take in all the details around you fast enough, all you could focus on was finding the top of a curly brown head of hair. Rossi was the first to come up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders and meeting your eyes with a steady gaze.

“Don’t panic.” He said in the least reassuring manner humanly possible. You didn’t give him time to explain before you tore from his arms and ducked around him.

Ambulance. He would be in an ambulance. If he’s hurt that bad, you hope the ambulance has already left, but at the same time you need to see him. If you don’t you might actually vomit right here in the middle of everyone.

“SPENCER REID!” The sound came from your chest, booming over the clamor and bustle of everyone around you. More people stopped and stared as you stumbled toward the emergency vehicles parked at the other side of the mass of people. You didn’t care. The lack of response was setting you on edge.

Just before you could yell his name again, he suddenly appeared like a ghost might appear out of thin air. He certainly was as pale as a ghost, sitting at the end of an open ambulance with an ice pack gingerly held against the back of his head. One of his lanky arms was raised into the air, waving you over.

When you flew into his arms, burying your face into his chest and inhaling his familiar scent of coffee and laundry soap, he grunted a little in pain.

“Careful, I’m not broke but I’m definitely sore.” You loosened your grip from around his ribs, leaning back and beginning an assessment of his limbs and appendages. Everything was, thankfully, in its rightful place, but cuts and freshly forming bruises were littered all over his arms and face.

“We weren’t even separated an hour and this is how I come back to find you? Do you have no concern for my nerves? My sanity?!” Your voice is shrill with residual panic, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt so that they wouldn’t shake. Slowly, Spencer lowers the ice pack to the ambulance flooring before looping his arm around the tops of your shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, letting you ramble away the hysteria as he presses his lips to the crown of your head.

“You can’t ever get hurt, Spencer. We have a baby. We have two babies, actually. Stress is bad for pregnant women, you can’t put me under this kind of stress, I just, how could you be so careless? What even happened? You know what, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I’m so mad at you right now, Spencer Reid. Just you wait until I’m not consumed with relief that you’re not dead, I might kill you myself.”

The tears wetting your cheeks betray your words, the rant loosing any of its sting as your voice cracks through it.

Putting his hands on either side of your face, he lifts your head up until you’re staring into those eyes you love so much that it actually rips your heart into a thousand tiny pieces every time you think about it.

“Breathe. Didn’t you just say stress isn’t good for the baby?” You want to punch him in the mouth and kiss him senseless at the same time, narrowing your eyes and fighting the smile that Spencer can already see twisting the edges of your lips.

“If you ever do that again-” You start to say, trying and failing to shake away the nightmarish possibilities you’d conjured up in your head on the twenty minute drive from Ryan’s workshop. Spencer smothers your rant into his chest when he folds you back into his arms, cradling the back of your head in one of his large hands.

“I will be more considerate of your nerves going forward, Mrs. Bennet.” He teases. You playfully swat at his back before finally letting his embrace settle over you with it’s usual calming affect.

…

“So are we allowed to talk about how you’re pregnant again?” JJ teases from the front of the elevator, unable to contain her own excitement when she notices the way you and Spencer have your heads leaned together in secret near the back.

Your head pops up, nearly bumping against your fiancée’s with the speed in which move to look at JJ. A cursory sweep across the faces of the rest of the team tells you that JJ isn’t the only one who had connected the dots.

“I hate working with profilers.” You groan, thankful for the ding that signals the opening doors. The sight of the BAU is very much welcome, calling to your fatigued limbs the way a siren might call to a pirate ship. This is your last stop before your bed. Your mother always babysat Graeson in your own home, which made it so much easier when you came back late and you weren’t in the mood to stop by her house at one or two o’clock in the morning to pick up your daughter.

“Hey, don’t get mad at us because you and pretty boy are terrible at keeping secrets.” Morgan teases, elbowing Spencer on his way out of the cramped elevator.

“And using contraceptive, apparently.” Prentiss comments as she goes about shuffling papers and files between bags on her desk. You send her a teasing glare, only letting her slide when she pulls you in for a congratulatory hug.

After she lets go, everyone files in one by one for their own congratulations, patting Spencer on the back (lightly, he has a minor concussion and some serious bruises) and squeezing you into excited hugs. Once Rossi pulls away with a teasing remark about how you find the time for sex between cases and a five month old baby, you pick up your things.

“Ready to go home?” Spencer smiles from his desk, gathering his own things into his arms before making his way over to you.

“I’ve been ready for hours.” You sigh, making your way back to the elevator. Someone shouts a last minute congratulations to you before you get to the clear doors. The sound of hurried heels clicking against the floor stops you in your tracks.

Somehow, in all the exhaustion and all the chaos, you’d forgotten Garcia.

“YOU’RE WHAT?”

[kindahoping4forever]

Dress // Ashton Irwin

Part of the fun of using prompt lists is finding ways to incorporate everything when someone requests multiple prompts in one piece. I had the skeleton for this story fairly quick and as always, @cal-puddies​ was a problem solving queen and helped me fine tune it into something that made sense. I wrote this maybe a month ago and got caught up tinkering with it and am so glad to finally get it out into the world!

Prompts: “I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.“ and “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.” and “Wow, I didn’t realize you were that… Flexible.”

Warnings: Supportive/protective/flirty friend!Ash, the slightest drop of angst, brief mention of unnamed character cheating, ridiculous amounts of sexual tension, spontaneous (but protected!) backstage sex

Word Count: 3k (on the nose. The 🤡 nose of course)

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————-

“I can kill him if you want,” Ashton offers.

You consider your friend’s offer. “I mean… I won’t stop you but I also won’t dye my hair and go on the run with you, I just got it to the shade I’ve been wanting.”

“Fake friend,” he scoffs.

Like most nights when you were visiting on tour, you and Ashton sat behind the venue, people watching and talking shit. Tonight’s conversation had a very specific subject: your cheating ex, a record label rep, who you just found out would be attending tonight’s show to scout one of the opening acts.

“I just hate the thought of you having to see that asshole again,” he seethes. “And I hate that I’m the one putting you in that position, as if I haven’t already done enough.”

You met “that asshole” (as Ashton exclusively refers to him) when you visited a 5SOS promo tour he was running so Ash has always felt somewhat responsible for your heartbreak, despite your insistence that he shouldn’t. It was a decent relationship; it never got too serious but you had fun and occasionally felt understood. But towards the end, he was always travelling and long distance made things difficult. Things became even more difficult when you realized he’d been cheating on you basically the entire time. You were hurt but your confidence was broken more than your heart.

You admit you’re nervous about potentially running into your ex but Ash is downright furious so you let him rant. You don’t realize that you’ve gotten lost inside your own head until Ash is snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Obviously I do love listening to myself talk but what I’m saying is for your benefit,” he snarks.

You shake your head. “Sorry. I think you can understand, I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

“That’s what I’m saying, I can’t stand seeing you like this.” He pauses and then enthusiastically squeezes your knee. “Here’s what you do: go back to the hotel while we’re at soundcheck, put on something sexy - Oh! That black dress you wore when we all went out in Austin? Do your hair, go all out and he’ll feel like a fuckin idiot if he even catches a glimpse of you.”

“Really?” You ask, skeptically.

“Trust me,” he insists, pulling you out of your seat. “It’ll make you feel good even if you don't see him.”

He’s right and you do feel better trading out your unofficial tour uniform of a messy bun, band merch and jeans for some soft curls, your favorite black slip dress and a pair of tall boots. You never thought of this dress as particularly sexy until Ash mentioned it but as you assess your reflection, you have to agree that it does flatter your body nicely. You throw on the leather jacket that Ash gave you for your birthday and head back to the arena feeling ready to take on the world, or at least your ex-boyfriend.

The guys all hoot and holler at you when they come back to the dressing room after soundcheck. (Ashton, of course, takes credit for your transformation even though all he did was suggest it.) You gratefully accept their sincere compliments, laugh at their hyperbolic ones and by the time they have to leave for their meet and greet, your face hurts from grinning ear to ear and you’ve essentially forgotten you were ever nervous in the first place.

But as they file in afterwards, Ash immediately notices your mood has changed drastically. You’re curled up under a blanket in an easy chair, mindlessly staring at your phone, your hair has been thrown back into a bun and as he tries to get a closer look without being too obvious, he can see your eye makeup is a bit smudged as if you’d teared up, if not full on cried.

He knows you well enough to know that if he hounds you, you’ll shut down and he’ll never find out what’s wrong so he just keeps an eye on you. But you know him well enough to know when he’s going to great lengths to ensure he’s paying you extra attention but not too much. He sits on the arm of your chair even though there’s plenty of actual seats available, he goes out of his way to include you in even the tiniest of conversations and when dinner arrives, he brings you a plate of food without being asked. You’re sure you’ll appreciate it in hindsight but right now you just want to be left alone.

You offer to keep Calum company when he goes out for a cigarette and as you’d hoped, besides a casual “You good?” and a side hug, he lets you stew in peace. When he starts to head back in, you tell him to go ahead, that you need another minute to yourself.

He pauses. “Ash isn’t gonna like that,” he chuckles. “But I’ll head him off best I can.”

Cal’s prediction is correct and you’re not alone for three minutes before Ashton comes barreling outside in search of you; you roll your eyes at the sight of him, fresh out of his ice bath, wet hair hanging in his face, white t-shirt and black shorts clinging to his damp body. You almost catch yourself admiring the spectacle before he starts making his way towards you and you remember how annoyed you are.

“Hey!” He brightly greets you.

“Jesus Christ, Ash,” you snap. “You’re gonna catch cold out here like that and then you’re gonna have to cancel shows and I’m gonna feel like it’s my fucking fault just because you can’t leave me alone for five goddamn minutes.”

His eyes briefly widen at your outburst but he quickly regains his composure and takes your hand. “Come with me,” he says quietly.

He leads you to the band’s warm up room and you throw yourself on the couch with a huff. He snorts and lifts your lower half up, sits close to you and rests your legs in his lap. He taps your thigh, “I’ll leave you alone if you tell me what’s going on.”

You sigh in response.

He tries again, “Don’t tell me you’re still nervous about that asshole because I told you ---”

“I saw him,” you interrupt.

“What? When?”

“While you were at meet and greet. I went out to the bus to get my charger and we passed each other on my way back,” you explain.

Ashton clenches his jaw. “What’d he say to you? I’ll go find him right now, I don’t fucking care.”

“He didn’t say anything,” you say plainly.

“What do you mean?” He asks, confused.

“I mean he looked right at me and didn’t say a word,” you explain. “Like I was nobody, not even worth ‘hello.’ Like I never meant anything to him.”

He comfortingly rubs your legs in his lap and watches you process what you’re feeling.

“I’m not sad, I don’t think. Because fuck that guy, for real,” you contemplate. “I think... I just feel like an idiot for letting him get to me and for caring at all he was going to be here and I really feel like an idiot for going to the trouble of putting on this ridiculous dress ---”

“The dress was an excellent idea, you look amazing,” he insists.

You purse your lips. “I look embarrassing, I hate this fucking thing,” you tug at the material in disgust.

Ashton lightly slaps your thigh in protest. “You love that dress. I love that dress.” Noting your look of disbelief, he smirks and continues. “Listen, it’s a good dress. I’ve had dreams about you in that dress. Like... dreams,” he emphasizes, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.

You feel your face getting much warmer much faster than you would’ve expected. You study his expression to try and figure out how serious he is. “Liar,” you determine with a laugh.

“Oh you want details? OK, you first wore it to that label party and I dreamt we were at my place, talking on the couch kind of like this,” he gestures. “And I ran my hand up your legs and played with you under your dress until you begged me to fuck you.”

As you take in his confession, your eyes flicker across his broad frame, all of your fantasies he'd unknowingly starred in running through your mind. You had no doubt you were attracted to each other but you’d always enjoyed the kind of friendship where you both felt comfortable enough to flirt openly without expectation. But this feels like new and dangerous territory. You’re pretty sure you don’t mind it.

“You seemed to remember me wearing it in Austin?” You press the subject, your voice surprising you with how breathy it sounds.

He chews his lip before meeting your eyes. “Dreamt you rode me in a dark corner of that club we were at,” he answers in a low voice. His hand is still absentmindedly stroking your leg, though you are acutely aware it seems to have climbed a couple inches higher since this conversation began.

You’re shocked when you hear your own voice saying, “And when you wake up from these dreams…”

“Hard as a rock,” he offers without hesitation.

His answer hangs in the air as you sit up, resting your arm on the back of the couch behind his head. You’re as close to sitting in his lap as you could be without actually doing it. You’re not sure where the audaciousness comes from but you look him straight in the eyes and ask, “How many times do you think you’ve cum because of me?”

Ashton stares at you a beat longer than you would’ve liked but you never fear that you’ve gone too far. He only breaks eye contact to briefly glance at your tongue darting out to lick your lips; he leans in slightly but has clearly decided to let you lead how far this goes. Finally, you hear his gravelly voice respond, “Far too numerous to count.”

You nod briefly and then you find yourself closing the gap between you. You kiss him with more confidence than you’ve felt all day and your assurance grows as he deepens it with a groan. You tangle a hand in his hair and smile against his mouth when you realize how curly his hair is from air drying post-ice bath. You get lost kissing like this for a few moments before you pull off his shirt and move to lay back down on the couch, wrapping your arm across his broad shoulders in hopes he'll follow you.

He allows you to pull him on top of you and he swiftly adjusts your position so that he can rest between your legs. You're feeling bold so you lick into his mouth and raise your hips against his, electricity running through your body when you hear a slight moan in response and feel his growing arousal through the thin fabric of his shorts. It's your turn to offer up some sounds of pleasure as he focuses his attention on kissing along your jaw and down the length of your throat.

Ash pulls away briefly to search your face for permission as his hand starts to make its way up the skirt of your dress; you guide his hand to lightly brush over your panties and satisfaction flashes across his features when he feels you've started to soak through. You buck into his touch and he takes the hint, dipping into your underwear and running his fingers along your folds.

"Already so wet for me," he teases. "You ever thought about this before?" The large pad of his thumb rubs gentle circles around your clit as you feel two fingertips dancing around your entrance.

You whimper softly into the kiss he offers and he takes that as encouragement to slide his fingers into you. You pull away from his lips and answer with a shrug, “This? A few times.” You rock against his fingers for emphasis. “But not as much as I’ve thought about being filled by your cock,” you banter shamelessly.

He grins at your assertion, hooking his fingers in a way that has you gasping. “Oh, is that what you want?” He pulls his fingers from you, eliciting first a disappointed moan from you and then an aroused one as he promptly sucks them clean. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”

Ash hikes your dress up over your hips and works your panties down your legs while you sit up and reach for his backpack on the coffee table across from the couch. You dig for only a few seconds before your hand resurfaces holding a condom. He gives you a surprised look and you toss it to him, snorting, “There’s no way my nosiness even cracks the Top 5 most shocking twists of tonight.”

He pulls his shorts down enough to get his cock out and rolls the condom on, chuckling. “I don’t know if I’d call us finally fucking shocking,” he comments.

“I guess that’s true,” you pull him into a kiss, laughing against his lips. “You’ve been trying to get it in for a while.”

He shakes his head fondly and settles himself over you once again; he pushes in and you both groan at the sensation. While you adjust, he pecks along your neck and the tops of your breasts where your dress has fallen down slightly; you decide you need more of that so you pull the bodice down further, exposing your chest to him. He immediately takes advantage and fits his mouth around a nipple while his hand toys with the other one.

You move your hips against him, signaling that you’re ready for him. He starts trying to build a rhythm and while it feels good, it quickly becomes apparent that the limited space of the couch isn’t giving you enough room to spread and accommodate his large build. It’s a giggly tangle of limbs as you both maneuver to try and determine the best course of action, eventually settling on you resting your legs on his shoulders.

Ashton begins slowly pumping his hips again and you both instantly feel the difference in depth; you moan and grabble at his back, bending your legs further towards yourself to get him closer. He growls at the sight. “Wow... I didn’t realize you were that flexible.”

“Missed opportunity for those dreams you’ve been having,” you tease, digging your nails into his arm as his cock drags against a particularly pleasurable spot.

He picks up speed, thrusting into you hard and deep, your pleased sighs and gentle whines spurring him to move faster and fuck you rougher. He notices you biting your lip to keep from crying out and decides that simply won’t do. 

“Lemme hear you, gorgeous... need to know how I’m makin you feel. Thought you couldn’t wait for my cock to fill you,” he pants, pounding into you vigorously. “I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.“ He presses down on one of your legs as he thrusts, reaching an even deeper spot inside you and you let out a guttural moan.

Your head is spinning as you look up and see a blend of lust and pride all over his face; you’d love to fire back some clever retort but he’s fucking you so good the best you can manage is a whiny “Fuuuuck… Ashhhh… pleeeease…” You’re surprised you already feel the beginnings of your orgasm creeping up on you and you claw at his neck and chest as your breathing intensifies.

“GOD, Ash… gonna cum,” you announce. It’s the last coherent sentence you produce for a while as you cry out repeatedly, your legs shaking and your pussy throbbing around his cock. You don’t usually orgasm from just penetration and the intensity of it is blinding.

He fucks you through it, holding your legs tight and encouraging you. “So pretty when you cum… feels so good around me,” he murmurs. Moments later, a series of grunts signal his impending release and you moan for him, watching as his hips stutter and he cums into the condom.

Ashton eases your legs down from around his shoulders and leans in to kiss you sloppily. He lays his head on your chest and you stroke his hair as you both process what just happened. He gets up after a few seconds to dispose of the condom and a comfortable silence fills the air as you both attempt to make yourselves presentable again.

He hisses sharply as he pulls on his shirt. “Goddamn, you scratched the shit out of me, woman,” he laughs in disbelief.

“Well, I’m gonna be walking a little funny for the next couple days so I think we’re about even,” you grin, relieved that at least this part of your relationship has remained unchanged.

You’re both just about ready to head back out when something occurs to you. “Hey, what did you mean when you said you know ‘for a fact’ that I can be loud in bed?”

Ash looks half-guilty, half-amused as he answers, “When you and that asshole first got together on that tour… I had the room next to you… things were overheard. Really difficult not to overhear, if I’m being honest.” He chuckles and shrugs.

You burst out laughing, cackling so hard you need to sit back down on the couch. Ashton looks at you in confusion. “I… I…” you struggle to get the words out, wiping tears from your eyes. “I was absolutely faking it for him those nights… most nights, to be honest.”

He giggles first out of shock and then at his next thought. “Well, if he’s anywhere backstage right now, he definitely just heard what a real one sounds like,” he smirks.

—-

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[zenosanalytic]

Harrow the Ninth: Insanity, the Body, and Gideon Redux

Spoilers, Obvsl

While writing My Other Three Reaction Posts while reading this book, one thing I kept WANTING to do but kept stopping myself from doing was praise Muir’s treatment&presentation of psychosis. I THOUGHT that was what she was aiming for, but It’s a touchy subject and I worried about imparting motive to an author on it or misrepresenting my own experience or knowledge of it in doing so, so I kept deciding to Not. But then, In the Acknowledgements at the back, Muir touches, very briefly, on her own experiences in this regard so I now feel comfortable giving her treatment of the topic all the kudos I can. Her portrayal is affectingly Honest. The terror and shame of Harrow’s condition -the vulnerability which makes trust both an inescapable necessary and horrifying to offer; Her desperate NEED for people to trust, and how easy that is to exploit and abuse- is fully conveyed. It’s rare enough to see a sympathetic portrayal of any mental illness in our society let alone psychosis, a condition which has been enthusiastically vilified and sensationalized in our popular culture for at least a century. But to see a psychotic PROTAGONIST, and to see her condition in all the sorrow, fear, and wretchedness it can bring, through the eyes of a sympathetic narrator, while said protagonist is trapped among callous self-serving ppl who see in it not suffering to be soothed but an excuse to discount, ignore, abuse, and exploit; and then to see her declared INNOCENT and VICTIM and RIGHT in clear, masterful prose; when the fuck does this happen?

It of course plays structural roles too; both by confusing what exactly is going on with Harrow and, through that confusion, allowing the reader to share a small piece of Harrow’s experience. Her visions, her memories, her FALSE memories, and her experiences all intertwine to muddle what exactly is going on. Is this “madness” a long-term shame hidden, or an intense response to trauma? Is she physically injured, or emotionally wrecked by Gideon’s death? Has she changed herself in some way, and if she has is it a result of that; or is this something longstanding we’ve merely never seen before? Is she sleepwalking, or is Gideon sleepwalking her, or is The Body, or is something/one else? Is Cytherea a hallucination, or a cruel prank, or a revenant, or is she Haunted? Does physical evidence truly contradict her memories or is this a hallucination too? Harrow can’t be sure of any of this and neither can the reader, and this taste of her experience helps the reader to sympathize with her plight. 

And, by confusing the nature of The Body, Cytherea, and what happened to Gideon(all “Bodies” from Harrow’s past in one way or another; some excellent wordplay whether intentional or no), the plot is obscured so that it can develop in a naturally suspenseful way. All these other possibilities obscure the possibility of Wake’s haunting, even though she and revenant possession are mentioned repeatedly throughout the book, laying out the development hidden in plain-sight. And that, in turn, works mechanically to allow these related plotlines -What’s up with The Body; what’s going on with Gideon; who’s the Narrator- spool out in a smooth, naturalistic, engrossing way as well.

 It’s obvs by the end, and spcl given the reveal about Alecto’s eyes and how she leaves just when the Resurrection Beast arrives(ie just when it would start making a spirit leaving difficult), that “The Body” -Alecto- is a real visitation; from the moment they become gold on at least. I’m still not sure if her presence going back to Harrow opening the tomb are real or fabricated; I feel like she’d have told this to Gideon with all the rest. But: they didn’t have much time together, and it wouldn’t make much sense to fabricate visions which began post-Lyctor back into her past when the transformation itself could be blamed for them, so there’s good reason to think this aspect of her remembered “madness” was real even if the rest seemed to be part of the backstory needed to “make her a different person”(e.g. in fact she disdained grave dirt on the trip to First House and perennially disdained comforts or reliance on others of any kind, but the her she remembered not only always took the dirt, but also told Ortus about her “madness” immediately when it became pertinent. Pre-Surgery Harrow would never do that).

As to the Body and her visitations by it, based on what was said about Alecto(that she wasn’t really “dead” just sort or “turned off”) and the mechanics of revenant-possession/spirit-visitation(running along thanergic links created through relevance and physical contact/called up by powerful necromancers), I think that Harrow, through her religious devotion to the Tomb-turned romantic ecstasy(and what a cool callback to medieval sexualization of faith THAT is!), and by physically TOUCHING Alecto(who maybe was still spiritually aware even if her body was “turned off”) probably created an avenue for Alecto to remain in contact with her through the River wherever she went(though I can’t remember her mentioning having Visions of The Body on Canaan House? I need to look through Harrow again to see), potentially further amplified by Harrow unknowingly summoning her through sheer emotional need. Gideon’s description of “surfacing” pretty definitely nixes the idea that any of those visions were overlays masking interventions by her.

Jumping off from there to the sleepwalking/body-sharing/possession... Gideon makes it clear her “surface” moments were incredibly short(she kept getting “clotheslined down”) and that she never manifested or had any control over Harrow’s body until the climax. The description of how Harrow’s Memory-Stage works states Harrow’s soul “emptied” from her body whenever she was on the Stage, which was everytime she slept or otherwise became unconscious(I really need to go back and see if the Break Chapters always followed “Whole” chapters ending in sleep/unconsciousness) but, as above, Gideon was too well partitioned to ever take over until the moment near the end. Wake was in Gideon’s sword(thinking back to GtN, Harrow DID have an odd antipathy for it even then), and at somepoint post-Lyctor(post-surgery? That makes sense given that’s when the Dream Stage was built and Harrow’s defenses would have been down) she jumped to possessing Harrow herself. It must have been Wake who sleepwalked her to impale Cytherea, perhaps so she could transfer her “anchor” from the sword to her corpse. Though maybe revenants can haunt multiple objects at once from their anchor; I find it Ominous that Pent kept mentioning the need to exorcise the anchor there at the end and that no exorcism took place. Could the sword STILL be haunted? But what role could she possibly have to still play in the story?

As to Gideon herself... I really cannot see Muir killing her off like that. Is it possible for a bound cavalier soul to break it’s link to the Lyctor’s body? It is possible that -given the empty Tomb in Harrow’s final chapter and what that place could potentially represent- Alecto is now in Harrow’s body, but Alecto has HER OWN Body(which apparently looks nearly IDENTICAL to Harrow with Gideon’s eyes, which adds a humorous line of narcissistic accusation to Harrow’s attraction to her; hope Gideon picks that up in AtN :p), and it’d be the easiest thing in the world to have the trauma of resurfacing, somehow given she lacks Necromancy, from The River give Gideon in Harrow’s body amnesia. That chapter DOES have the implication, with those bones, that she’s doing Necromancy though, so who knows. It’s possible what we’re seeing there is finally a true merger of the two, though I doubt that given how I read the ending; I think the possibilities are either Gideon with amnesia(and potentially Necromantic now due to Harrow choosing not to return and her powers “ceding” to her body’s current occupant. Still not sure where the line btw physical&metaphysical is with necromantic ability), or Alecto in Harrow’s body, with both Gideon and Harrow “dead”(in or over the River due to Harrow’s choice) atm. One Flesh, One End, afterall owo owo owo

[herwonderland7]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏  》  the prophecy, the discovery

summary  》  Aera decided to go on a discovery, despite the warnings that her mother warned her.

characters  》  Gae Aera, White Queen, The King

warnings/author’s note  》  blood, being bitten,  this is a long one, i already warned you!

genre  》  fantasy, got7!as!werewolves

       “Maybe you should keep that belief a little longer. Perhaps it will show themselves some time,”

There was once a saying or a prophecy where a young girl would emerge from the sea where flowers would bloom with a single touch of her fingertips, cherry blossoms trees would sing, the trees in the forests would be as lively as centuries ago and restore happiness to the King and White Queen.

       The White Queen soullessly stared at the huge family picture, before wiping away her knowing tears as she walked away from it. 

It was a picture of her  along with her husband, the King of Morian and her beloved, so loved, daughter. Princess Riana Aera. 

People know her as Aera. 

Everyone loves her - including the trees, the flowers, the petals and animals. 

Being with Aera was like being with a bundle of joy and sunshine, but ever since having the thought where she was being killed, the White Queen could feel her own soul draining - draining for her beloved daughter.

The Princess of Morian wasn’t exactly being killed, she was actually being taken and taken care of by a loving, human couple - they were actually one of the White Queen’s close friends, the only ones that she trusted.

The story goes way back when the White Queen stumbled onto a magical lake, where she transported herself to the human world. It was magical yet horrifying - the rest were history as she made friends with the human couple.

The White Queen knew her princess was all right, growing healthily as the White Queen would visit the lake but recently, it seems the magic in the lake somehow drained and the Queen couldn’t see her little princess anymore.

“My love!”  A yell made the Queen look back at the loud voice, seeing her husband running towards her with a slight frown.

“What is it, my King?” The White Queen weakly smiled as the King pulled her into a tight embrace.

“You won’t believe it, my love! Come!” The King exclaimed, earning a deep frown from the White Queen as she was being pulled by the King, as they ran out of the castle to meet by a great, wonder sight.

The White Queen’s eyes slowly widened - a smile finally formed on her lips.

“It cannot be,” The White Queen muttered as she grabbed a whole hem of her gown - running towards the cherry blossom trees as she watched the petals magically flew around in unison.

The White Queen hoped that it was true as she leaned on the tree, earning a slight gasp as she looked at the tree with amazement, then towards the King.

“I can hear it sing, my love. The prophecy is true, my King.”

“You’re a healer, Aera! Thank you!”

“Healers are in fairytales, Mrs Watts. But thank you.” 

“You don’t believe in fairytales, my dear?”

“I used to believe in fairytales but now, I only believe in what I see, Mrs Watts.”

“ Maybe you should keep that belief a little longer. Perhaps it will show themselves some time,”

The young woman sighs heavily, the old woman's words stick onto her mind.

It’s been a year ever since Aera had that strange dream of wolves and dragons - plus a royal family.

It’s strangely ridiculous but it was interesting.

As Aera was walking through the trails, there were loud piercing screams - not far but it was near. 

All of the men from different cottages ran towards the scream - it was the duty for men and boys to help, which is ridiculous to Aera as they made it seem that women or girls can’t help - in other words in their eyes, women and girls are weak.

Aera was different out of everyone in the small village. 

She was the first female doctor and it seems everyone looked up to her - she was talented, had a gifted ability to treat people with the knowledge of medicines and Aera is actually the prettiest among all young women in the small town.

“Ms Aera!” A voice called from a young man, causing Aera to look at him with a slight frown after seeing the worried and hurried look from the young man’s face.

From which direction he was standing, he certainly came from the forest.

“Ms Aera! We need your help to treat an injured boy in the forest!”

“What was he doing in the forest anyway? The forest is a prohibited area to enter,” Aera said in a hurry as they both had to fasten their pace as they entered the entrance of the forest.

There were many stories from passersby that they could see glowing eyes and few cries from the forest.

There were a few risque villagers, mainly kids and teenagers who would not listen to the warnings that they returned with a bite that was classified from a dog - a big one. 

The kids and teenagers said that they were wolves, they were not normal wolves - they were the mythical ones, the gigantic ones.

It traumatized them and soon people started to enter the forest and they returned back with horrified stories like seeing shadows of a white figure and hearing terrifying cries. 

Aera could only laugh as if the forest is really haunted, a right mind would just leave it be and not enter the forest. That is why they were being disturbed.

“I don’t know, Ms Aera. He said he was playing soccer and the ball entered the forest. He didn’t see where he was running into and he was already in the forest when he realized.” The young man explained and Aera could only sigh.

Both of them could already see a group of men and women, surrounding an area whom it must be the bitten dog.

“The village doctor is here!” The young man called as all of them turned towards where they were. Aera didn’t hesitate to run towards where the boy was. 

Her gaze that at first was a determined, courageous one turned pale, as her eyes landed towards the boy’s leg. 

Aera quickly got on her knees as she immediately took out her starter-kit for treating wounds and injuries.

The first thing she did was to cleaned the wound, then apply pressure to stop the bleeding. 

She then began to inspect the bite, cleaning the wound one more time with alcohol wipes to disinfect, then applying the medicine for the meantime before tying the the applied wound with a bandage - at the same time she started to wander.

This isn't a dog’s bite. 

It’s impossible. 

The town men said that there was no such thing as wolves living in a forest.

They already checked the whole forest and no tracks were found.

“Ms Aera. Are you okay?” The boy quietly asked the dazed Aera who quickly tied a knot on the boy’s feet. He was lucky the bite wasn’t that deep that he had to do surgery.

This wolf was nice enough to spare his legs.

“I’m good. Now as for you young man, visit the village clinic again tomorrow to get proper medicines and no more playing near the forest, okay?” Aera pinched his nose, causing the boy to nod enthusiastically.

The group of men and women thanked the village doctor, as usual saving the day when someone is injured or sick.

Watching the injured young innocent boy being held by other older boys and seeing the crowd dispersing, Aera started to pack her suitcase with a slight smile on her face when the sound of a twig made her snap towards the direction of the sound.

She squinted her eyes while looking around the forest. 

It wasn’t as eerie as what the villagers and passersby said.

Aera slightly shakes her head before standing up while grabbing her suitcase. She was about to turn her heel, but she strangely turned towards the sound of the twig. Unknowingly gazing far. 

It brings her back to the dream about the royal family and wolves.

“It’s all just a dream, a myth.” Aera muttered before fully turning back, not knowing someone, more like a creature was staring from far with glowing eyes.

‘A dream?’

“Really, Aera?”

“Yes, mother! It’s a bite of a wolf. It was strange because the bite wasn’t that deep and strangely, it was as if this wolf who bit the boy’s leg spared his life.” Aera muttered the last part, didn’t want others to hear as they were standing in front of the window, near the kitchen sink.

Her mother could only smile while shaking her head, hearing her daughter rambling her words.

“Mother, do you… believe in fairytales?” Aera's question made her mother’s grip onto the soapy plate fall onto the basin with a clunk.

Her mother turned towards Aera, seeing there were curious eyes in the 23 years old eyes. 

“I.. do,” her mother muttered and Aera’s eyes widened as she leaned forward towards her.

“Really?!” Aera exclaimed, followed by a chuckle from her mother as she was wiping the plate with a smile, then putting it away as she dried her own hands before turning towards Aera with loving eyes.

“Now, now. Don’t need to get excited. I believe in fairytales but… I’m a believer of ‘I will only believe what I see’. So far, I have not yet seen any wolves.” Her mother answered with an amused smile, walking passed the young woman.

“Which is why I planned to visit the forest in about an hour's time,” Aera muttered but her voice was clear for her mother to hear, this caused her mother to snap her head towards Aera with a deep frown.

“You’re joking,”

“I’m not laughing, mother.” Aera dead-panned, causing the middle aged woman to tilt her head.

“You wouldn’t, Aera. It’s dangerous.” mumbled the aged woman, causing Aera to look away while biting her inner lip.

“It is but someone, who is young - not too young, and not too old, just right - has to come and clarify if the rumors are true, Mother. So far, only the younger ones and the ones we never trust their words for said things that don't make sense!” Aera argued after seeing a disapproval look from her mother.

The middle aged woman knew the young woman in front of her was courageous and stubborn. Those two personalities always end up in a bad result.

“You should believe them, Aera. No matter if you don’t see it or not. This is a dangerous case where I don’t allow you to go there,” scolded her mother and Aera scoffed as she stood near the door, leaning against it while folding her hands.

“Mother, I am a 23 years old girl. I’m afraid that I have aged into an adult,” answered Aera in amusement. 

The middle aged woman slowly turned towards Aera, which made Aera frown slightly to see the way she looked at her.

There was a mixture of sadness, longing, and definitely fear - which is weird for Aera. 

She could be wrong but she knows how her mother looked when she is disappointed or angry, or sad.

This was different from her everyday life.

“Then I won’t treat you like a kid. But I did say that I warned you and I absolutely didn’t say I agree with your decision on entering the forest.”

Aera gulped as she looked around.

It’s broad daylight, the sun was still up but she wondered why her heart was beating rather fast and why she was so afraid when she herself was the one who made the decision of going on a discovery, an adventure if what those villagers said was true.

Her arms immediately wrapped around each other, feeling the cold breeze hitting her clothes arms. 

C’mon, Aera. You’re the one who wants to come here.

Woman up.

Aera heaved a sigh of courage as she followed the trails, going deep into the forest - while capturing the scenery of leaves falling onto the ground that was filled with yellow leaves, indicating it was autumn season.

It was pretty in her eyes, realizing that it wasn’t so bad after all - as she picked up a yellow leaf, admiring it’s bright color.

Her attention was being disturbed with a sound of a twig, coming from behind as she quickly turned back - her eyes searching for anything or anyone.

She could feel her heart beating quite fast while trying to calm herself down. It could be a bird.

But birds chirp, so far, I don’t hear any chirpings.

Aera shooks off her thoughts as she begins to walk further down, the trail going downwards. 

She slightly stopped at her tracks, turning slightly behind where she could see the entrance of where she entered the forest. Aera knew if she took further more steps, she couldn’t see the sight of other cottages nor the entrance.

Letting out a small smile, Aera continued to follow the trails down without any regret. 

So far her discovery was good, until the cold wind started to fill her body warmth, knowing she was already deep into the forest when all of a sudden, her attention went towards 5 trees away from her - seeing a figure hiding.

“Hey!” squinting her eyes to see clearly, Aera yelled as she confirmed it was really a figure.

It was a boy.  

She didn’t think twice of the outcome as her feet started moving before her brain. Aera ran, following the footsteps of the boy - making sounds of scrunches as  they stepped onto the yellow crispy leaves.

The footsteps started to get loud and multiplied, followed by a strange sound of horn, it was like a long, deep yet soft conch horn - which clearly didn’t weird out Aera as her train of thought was to follow the boy, not knowing what was about to happen next.

As if falling from the tip of a mountain, she suddenly fell from a hill and Aera immediately let out a scream - seeing a hidden waterfall, then realizing it was a hidden waterfall canyon.

The pressure when she fell, Aera guessed that it was a canyon because the height where she fell was more than 100 feet. 

Her eyes were kept open as her guessing was right, her body fully submerged into the water.

This was weird for Aera, extremely weird. 

There were second thoughts that she may die, or she had confirmed that she died but here she is holding onto her breath while trying to swim her way up for oxygen.

It was weird for her as the water was so clear, more clearer than the ponds back on her own cottage.

Aera swims her way up, seeing the sunlight shadowing onto the clear blue sea - not knowing what she is about to see next.

       It’s as if my body has experienced it before, like I have swam deep into the sea where in reality, I have never swam nor I have met in contact with the sea water nor a swimming pool.

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓  ⇿  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

[ynnassii]

Elevator Encounter -Hoseok |pt1|

Word Count: 2655

Genre: flufffiest fluff/ cuteness overload

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Synopsis: What will happen when you get stucked in an elavator together with you bias?

The moment you stepped out of the store, you stretched your arms out to your sides and let out the air from your mouth sharply. Three long exhausting hours in queued line, you felt your calves and legs stiffened and cramped up.

You rest your hands on you knees as you retrieved back the air you thought your lungs was deprived for hours, and as soon as your eyes landed on the bag slung on your forearm, you felt your body tingle with excitement. A grin streched widely on your lips as you stare at it with awe.

After long hours of waiting, you finally got your own BT21 Mang cushion that you couldn't wait to bring home and hug to sleep. The mall nearby just had its soft opening of BT21 store and you were one of the lucky ones to get the item, in fact the luckiest when you got the last one available.

You let out a squeal with both hands covering your mouth, creating a muffled excited scream as you stomped your feet repeatedly on the ground.

"It was totally worth it~" you mumbled in a sing-sang tone while glancing back at the store that was still full of ARMYs inside. Your eyes traveled back to your BT21 bag and your lips quirked into a big smile, not caring if you'd hurt your cheeks from too much smiling.

You were overjoyed, and for you it was the best thing that ever happened to you, second to meeting Hoseok of course, you thought.

You were blissfully skipping while humming to 'EGO', your ponytail swung behind your head as you made your way towards the elevator.

The elevator finally came up to your floor, and the ping sound resounded. You entered into an empty space and as soon as the door opened, you quickly pressed the button going to second floor. You planned to stop by a coffee shop, might as well enjoy a freshly baked buns along with it.

As the door closed, your eyes darted to your cheery expression from its mirror walls upfront, suddenly a bubble of excitement build up inside you. Your shoulders grooved up and down to the non-existent music, your body swayed on both sides with your eyes shut as you wrapped your arm tightly around your Mang cushion.

Lost in your own world, you didn't noticed the elevator door had opened, revealing a stunned guy who was completely dazed with your silly dance moves you unknowingly doing in front of him.

His eyes landed on the bag you were hugging, his perplexed expression turned into a huge smile and soon followed by a soft chuckle, making your body fliched at the sound. Your eyes shot open, meeting his crescent formed eyes.

You gawked at him with unbelieving eyes and mumbled breathlessly, "n-no way"

He went in before the door closed, pressed the button '2' and went to the far left, leaning his shoulder comfortably on its mirror wall while his hands tucked away in the front pocket.

Even with mask covering the half of his face, his almond- shaped eyes that you memorized too well, his fluffly hair, cutely accessorized bag, fashionable oversized clothes. You could easily tell who he was. Everything about him screams HOSEOK, but you decided not to tell him. You were afraid that he might feel uncomfortable. Thus, your resolve was not to invade his personal time.

"You must be in a good mood? " he interrupted your fuzzy mind as you glanced at him in widened eyes, you still find it hard to believe that he was standing right in front of you.

"uhh- I uhh, yeah." you squirmed when your voice cracked, fighting the urge to punch yourself for your lame response. You cursed under your breath after embarrassing yourself for the second time, but he only giggled.

"May I ask why?" he asked in an enthusiastic manner. His bright voice was so pleasant to your ears that it effortlessly made your heart beat like crazy.

"I bought a mang cushion. It's a BT21 character made by BTS" you mustered to say, not letting your voice to falter as you explain the already known fact that you knew he knows too well, and lift your head up to meet his eyes with your biggest smile.

"Oh really?" you heard him chuckled under the mask as he leaned on his back to get himself a better view of you,while folding his arms against his chest.

The moment was surreal. Your hands were ice cold, your knees were wobbly, treathening to collapse anytime but you knew that if you let this moment slip away you will regret it for life, you decided to knock some sense on you and enjoy this once in a lifetime opportunity.

"Are you a fan of BTS?"

" Yes and you are my bias, Hoseok" when you firmly decided to seize the moment, it wasn't meant to turn out this way, but the words came out bullet fast that it slipped out your mouth before realizing it. You abruptly covered you mouth but you realized it was too late when his expression stiffened, his brows raised high over his widdened eyes.

" You know me?" his voice sounded astonished, you avoided his gaze and lowered your head as you fiddled with your fingers nervously.

" ah yes I do but I was- I am sorry i wasnt planning to disturb you or something but-"

"No it's fine." he interrupted as he waved his hand in front of you and chuckled softly, "I was just shocked that you managed to recognize me even with a mask on, you didn't offend me in any way, dont worry" he explained in a calm tone, assuring you he was okay with it.

"ohh that's a relief" you pressed a hand on your chest as you felt your body loosened up. You leaned your back on the mirror wall and stood there opposite to each other.

"You're such a thoughtful fan, I appreciate that. What's your name?" he asked and came a curious tilt of his head.

"I'm Y/N" you answered, a sheepish smile stretched on both side of your lips.

He replied a nod with a lingering smile under his mask and abruptly shoved his hand inside his tote bag and took out a piece of paper and pen. He scribbled something on it and reached out his hand towards you afterwards, signaling you to take it.

Your eyes sparkled in delight, your lips formed into a childish grin the moment you held the paper that had become one of your most treasured possessions.

It was his autograph with a little message 'you are my hope' on the lower right and your name written under it.

He lowered his mask to his chin, revealing his effortlessly beautiful face. He has the prettiest cheekbones, perfectly high nose and sculpted sharp jawline. Seeing him this close, you realized his photos and videos you've seen before didnt do him justice.

You stared at him dumfounded with your mouth slightly agaped "That's for my good ARMY~" he said in tiny cute voice as he gave you a quick smile that made his lil dimples appear. He took a step closer and gently pet your hair.

Your body stiffened from his touch, your heart thumping rapidly against your chest.

You hoped the moment won't end but luck must not be on your side when something unexpected happened.

You felt an intense rumbling underneath the floor that was followed by a loud screech. The lights flickered on and off that soon enough came back to normal, however the elevator stilled and completely stopped moving.

“What the hell.” Hoseok muttered, shock audible inside his words as he began pressing the buttons in front of you frantically.

Being stuck in a place with Hoseok was a dream come true but the fact that you were stucked in a enclosed narrow space was a nightmare. Your claustrophobia was to blame.

Your hands started trembling, your heart were palpitating in a higher frequency.

"This cant be happening" you mumbled in gritted teeth as you fought the urge of panic seeping through your body but you felt you were losing the battle.

You rubbed your tightened chest, trying hard to catch your staggering breath. Beads of cold sweat started to form on your forehead as you gripped hard on the handrail when you felt your legs was about to give out.

"What's wrong?" he turned to you when he heard a comotion you created from behind.

"I-I can't breathe" you mumbled under your ragged breathe and kept you eyes shut, hoping all the negative thoughts contributing to your phobia would go away.

You heard him gasped loudly, "Oh my god! What should I do?" he asked in a panicked voice. His hands placed on the sides of his head as his eyes trailed up and down on you and stopped on your face to look in your eyes with terror.

He frantically searched for something inside his bag and brought out his tumbler quickly, "Here have some water, will this help?" he stretched his arm towards you with the tumbler on his hand.

You abruptly accepted his offer with a nod and gulped down the content of its last drop not minding the thoughts of possible indirect kiss, but if it had occured on a different situation you would have definitely freaked out.

"Thanks" was all you mustered to say in a weak voice as you gave the tumbler back to him.

You allowed yourself to slip down the wall and sit down the floor in an idian sit position and rest your hands atop your knees with your head hanged low, your bt21 bag placed on one side.

He followed you and lowered himself beside you, his both legs stretched out. He was close that you felt his arm slightly brushed against yours.

"Are you feeling better?" his voice laced with worry. His brows furrowed while his eyes carefully traced down your face with a hardened expression.

"A little" you muttered weakly, your shoulder heaved up and down but now in lesser intensity.

All of a sudden, you felt the warmth of the contact to your skin that made you flinch and smoothly slipped his slender hand on top of yours and held it firmly, you shot your head up only to be met by a soft smile that touched the corner of his mouth, his small dimples reappeared.

"Breathe with me" he spoke softly and kept his eyes focused on yours as you nodded in response and gave his hand atop of yours a gentle squeeze

"Inhale... Exhale... " you followed his lead and repeated after him while looking at him deep in his eyes and miraculously it made you feel better.

His warm eyes that presented gentleness and trustworthiness, You felt you were safe.

You both did the breathing exercise for a multiple times until your breathing has gotten back to normal.

"I think I am okay now"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, thank you Hoseok"

A comfortable silence enveloped between both of you. You let it linger for a moment until you spoke.

"It never crossed my mind that I'd meet you in an unlikely situation. This is crazy. " you blurted as you laughed and you weren’t sure if you imagined it but it was almost as if his eyes were fondly looking at you.

"I wasnt expecting this too, I had plans to enjoy this free time but being stuck with you wasn't completely bad." he shrugged, a lopsided smile formed on his lips, " You're comfortable to be with" he continued.

You felt your heart was fluttering inside your chest, hundreds of butterflies were roaming in your stomach.

Your eyes traveled back to your enlaced hand only realizing that he was holding your hand the whole time.

"I think you can-uhm let go"

"Oh yea- yea sorry" he moved his hand away swiftly as if he was grounded by your touch and looked away while clearing his throat awkwardly , you peeped your eyes over his reflection on the mirror upfront and you saw a faint tint of pink on his cheeks.

All of a sudden you felt the ground underneath you started moving again.

You were both dazed, body still slumped on the floor when the doors opened. Thankfully nobody was around.

At first neither of you moved, not willing to get away from this little bubble that had formed around the two of you just yet. Then Hoseok first straightened up and pulled up his mask,extending his hands to you so that you could pull yourself up at them. You laid your palms on his, and enjoyed the way his fingers curled around yours as he helped you get up. They lingered for a little longer than necessary before letting go.

He signaled you to go out first and he followed behind you as made you way to the exit.

" So uhm you going home?" He rubbed his nape, awkwardly shifting his weight between his legs. You both faced each other, a lingering smile on both your faces.

"No I'll stop by starbucks I probably need some caffeine, how about you?" Your eyes watched him with anticipation, hoping that he would somehow stay a bit longer.

"Oh me? Ill go check out some new KAWS items before I go back to our dorm" he blurted out, his voice hesitant. Your bright smile instantly fades from your face.

"Oh- okay.... Im really glad to meet you, Hoseok" you were beyond happy, but saying goodbye after a short bittersweet encounter, you felt a slight pang on your chest.

"Same here, uhm I should go... Bye-bye Y/N" hint of sadness was evident on his voice, or it was just your wishful thinking. He waved goodbye and turned his back on you.

You gave one final glance at his departing image, walking away from you. You turned on your heel, with a heavy heart as you took lazy steps away from him.

"Wait Y/N." you heard him call out that made you body automatically turn around before realizing it. He was sprinting towards you and heaved loudly before he spoke.

" Im actually a big fan of coffee, mind if I accompany you?" he scatched his temple awkwardly, his eyes looking elsewhere to avoid your gaze.

Being a fan of Hoseok, you know too well that he wasn't fond of coffee. Just by the look on his face you could already tell he was making an excuse knowing how bad he is at lying, yet you find it adorable of him to make such silly excuses.

A playful smile appeared on your lips as you looked at him dearly.

"I mean unlike you, I cant just Google you and find out more about you... I shoudnt have said that" he blurted out loud, the last words were spoken timidly as his hand covered his lips and defiantly made himself chuckle.

"May I?" you could hear him talk in pout, his eyes exactly looked like his favorite emoji.

You suppressed the urge to giggle at his sweet demeanor, His cuteness that charmed you since day one.

You liked Hoseok as an idol but meeting him personally made you like him even more. The reason behind wasn't just his beauty, it was his personality that you fell in love with in the first place.

You know much he easily gets scared yet he managed to stay strong for you. He chose to be brave for your own good. You still remembered how his soft hands slightly trembled earlier, yet he concealed it with his warmest smile.

There are some moments when a small coincidence you experience grows into a huge thing called fate, and you were ready to face what lies ahead.

"Sure!"

-fin-

(A/N: lemme know your thoughts about this one, your comments will be much appreciated~)

[afriend410]

An Outing

Summary: Hiccup takes the youngest of his children out to go exploring and spend some quality time together.

His back was sore and each muscle in his arms and legs were twitching, even his prosthetic ached. The sound that left his mouth was like a dragon's groan as he stretched out the tight ligaments in his back. When done he smiled as he reached for the handle of the front door and then entered. He was greeted with a beautiful sight of his wife sharpening some of the kitchen cutlery and being a mother of three she picked up on a habit of humming softly when doing a meaningless task. It was music to his aging ears and his smile grew when speaking to her.

"Good afternoon Milady." He went up to her and kissed her cheek that she offered. She greeted him in return. He grabbed his mug and filled it with his tea before taking a seat in his chair. He rubbed a stiff shoulder as she struck up a conversation.

"So are you home for the rest of the day?"

He nodded. "Yeah, we managed to fix one of the docking stations. Who knew they were so labor intensive to fix?"

That made her chuckle, "Well, you did design them that way." She moved on to her next step which was preparing the food. Luckily, the years of being a mom made her a better cook. Unlike her husband, her children didn't lie when they didn't like her something she cooked.

"Yeah," he forced a smile, "why was that again?" He saw her shrug and then focus back on the task of cooking. He relaxed in the chair more and took sips of his drink. He was about to enjoy the peace of his home and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board as his wife hummed when a happy shriek reached both parents.

"Daddy!"

The smile bursting through his dark beard was a clear as day as he looked at his seven-year-old son. His arms were wide open as the boy crashed into him and immediately he was plopped into his lap. After the bear hug, he received he struck a conversation with the youngster. Ruffling his red hair a bit before his hand was pushed away he asked, "And what did Little Stoick have on his plate today?"

He listened to his son's squeaky voice ramble off every detail and activity that he did. Somewhere the boy's mother was involved. A couple was about their cat. A gift they received from one of their new traders when they were expecting Stoick and with no more dragons it did keep the rats at bay. The last one was the most entertaining as he listened and watched his youngest tell and act out how close he was to beat his older sister in combat. He laughed at the ending. He gut laughed so hard that it made Little Stoick proud he could entertain his father. When he calmed down and wiped away a tear he asked, "And where is Zephyr?"

The seven-year-old rolled his eyes and looked like he swallowed a mouthful of his mother's Yaknog. "She's with Tyr."

"Really?" the father was taken back by that. He looked at his wife to confirm and again she shrugged.

"Seems he finally was able to catch her eye this time."

He did not like the sound of that. His little girl with a boy at their age. He knew what boys thought of at their age. He was one once, wishing for just one small peck from the girl they crushed on. His green eyes scanned over towards his wife as he thought back to the memories of when they were so young. How he was able to get that same kiss from her and a couple punches too. He smiled at the blonde and unknowingly rubbed his forearm. Those were some memories he wouldn't trade for the world. He felt his son pull on his cloak bringing him back to the present. He ruffled his red hair again earning a pout and a soft shove. "What about Nuffink?"

"With Grandpa Gobber. He started his apronship."

"Apprenticeship sweetie," the mother corrected.

"That's what I said- apronship."

The mother chuckled, "Close enough, but yea that's where your other son is dear."

"Damn," he cursed in disbelief, "that was today?"

"Hiccup, language," she scolded him.

"Sorry," he cringed and turned to his son, "don't you repeat that." He pointed a finger at the boy only succeeding in making him laugh. Hiccup sighed though upset with himself. "I just wanted to wish him good luck is all. Gobber isn't the easiest Viking to please when it comes to working in the shop."

The mother turned to her boys and leaned against the table she was working on. "You have. Ever since you were able to get him that spot."

He nodded and placed the seven-year-old off his lap. His leg was starting to feel like pins and needles with him sitting and squirming about. That and he was trying to digest the information he was hearing about his family. "I know Astrid, but he didn't seem enthusiastic by it was I would have hoped."

"That's because he's still just a boy," she reassured.

He agreed half heartily, "I just want him to have a place. To be a part of something a little bit bigger. To feel useful in the tribe."

Astrid walked over to him and rubbed his aching neck. "He has a place Hiccup." He was going to speak, but she cut him off. "He might be quiet, but he's fierce. Nuffink will find his place in the tribe. Just like you did. Just like we all did."

He held her hands in his own stopping her work on his neck. That's when he felt her kiss the top of his head and smile. "Why are you always right?"

"Because I always am," she teased.

The two enjoyed the moment with each other both saying how much they loved one another without uttering a word. The time was cut short when Stoick once again pulled on Hiccup's cloak.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Little Stoick?" the corners of his lips turned upward when addressing the lad. He felt Astrid leave his side and heard the shopping begin on her cooking.

"Are you staying for lunch?" He looked up at his father with the biggest puppy dog blue eyes he had overseen from his three kids.

The older Haddock nodded and beaming down at his son whose grin seemed to grow larger. Even more when he explained that he will be staying for the rest of the day. What caught the father off guard however was when his seven-year-old asked if they could go somewhere. "And where would you like to go? The plaza perhaps? Maybe even see Grandma? She can tell you a really great story or two." The redhead shook his head perplexing Hiccup. There wasn't much that the young lad could do. "Then where would you like to go?"

"Exploring!"

Every bone in his body turned to stone as fear slowly sank in. he didn't think his aching body could fulfill his son's wish. Luckily, his wife stepped in to help him out.

Astrid called out, "Sweetie, I don't think your dad is quite up for that. He has had a rough day at the shipyard. Maybe you two can do something less rigorous?"

His smile disappeared as quickly as a Night Fury in a moonless night. The pout and sad eye were quick to return. "But last week he promised to take me and it rained." Little Stoick turned to his dad at this point, his big blue eyes begging him. "Please, Dad. I promise we don't have to go far or for long. Just please can we go?"

Hiccup sighed and turned to Astrid.

"It's your decision," she said.

He turned back to him and really thought about it all while his son was mumming his pleases. He sighed once more running his hand over his beard before giving his answer, "Go grab your supplies then."

His face lit up, "Really?!"

"Really." He grinned, "Now go before I changed my mind." With that, he watched his youngster scramble up the stairs to prepare his things. He went to stand up and regretted it. Everything was stiff and screaming in pain. He put his hands on his hips and tried to regain his composure as he took a deep breath, "Oh Gods."

Astrid placed a hand on his shoulder. Her blue eyes looking at him with concern. "Are you sure you're up for this? You know he will understand if you do it another day."

He gave a soft smile towards her and took her hand to lightly kiss her knuckles. "Eh, what's one more adventure for these old bones?"

She chuckled, "But you're not that old."

He was about to counter when a small voice interrupted them.

"I'm ready!"

Both parents gave each other a look of pure happiness and some disbelief as they watched the small Haddock lug a large sack down the stairs one step at a time.

"That may kill me though," he whispered in her ear playfully.

"I got it." The mother walked over to her son and asked, "And what do you have in all that?"

"Everything you need to go exploring," he said matter of factly.

She raised her eyebrows stunned by his confidence, but she quickly recovered. "You know your mother has been on exploration or two and do you want to know something?" When he bobbed his head she continued, "You don't need all this to go on an adventure."

"B-but," he was so confused at this point, "Uncle Snotlout says you do! Especially when you could run into a bear as he did!"

It all clicked into place for the parents and Hiccup spoke up.

"Son, you do know your Uncle like to fabricate things, right?"

He cocked his head, "What's fab-br-ate-tated mean?"

Astrid snorted lightly at her son's pronunciation of the word and she brushed a lock of his red hair back away from his freckled face. "It means he likes to make things up. There are no bears on our island." She then proceeds to dig through the bad to pull two things out. "All you really need is this." She held up a water pouch and adjusted the strap so it could sling over his shoulder correctly. "And this." The second item was a small dagger no larger than a butter knife and clipped it to his belt on the other side. "Everything else will just slow you down." She stood up satisfied with her work. "Especially, if you run into a bear." She winked at him and enjoyed the smile that bloomed over his young face. "Now go back upstairs and grab your coat. I don't need you getting sick."

Stoick nodded and bounded up the stairs.

Hiccup went to his wife and kissed her cheek and said a quiet, "Thank you."

She chuckled.

"We should be back in a couple of hours. Anything you need when we come back?"

"Just bring back our other children. Dinner should be ready by then."

"Okay," he said and gave her another small quick peck on her lips this time. He then called the stairs to the boy. "Let's go, Stoick. We're burning daylight!"

He ran back down at that hopping over his bag and rushing towards the door. "Come on! Let's go!" He waved his dad over at the door.

Hiccup shook his head chuckling again. Before he opened it however he stopped, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

The lad thought about it until it dawned on him, "Bye mom! I love you!"

"Love you both," she said grinning and watching them walk out the door.

"Love you," Hiccup replied, "We'll be back before sundown at the latest."

"Just don't push yourself."

The door closed as soon as they walked out.

The stroll through the woods was tough on his aching body, but seeing his seven-year-old jump and bounce on stones and tree roots describing how he will map every inch of these woods to find himself a bear was becoming another he never wanted to forget. Though it made him curious. "Hey Little Stoick, where did all this interest in catching a bear come from?"

The son stopped his play and looked down at his feet. He was scared and it was clear on his face. The answer he gave was something Hiccup wasn't expecting. "You have to hunt one to be a Viking, don't you? Hunting is everything around here."

He closed his green eyes and scrunched his face almost in anger. Not at his son, but at himself. He found a spot to take a seat and called the son over to him. When the boy was seated beside him, he took a moment before speaking. His voice was very calm and yet stern. "Tell me the truth, Stoick. Do you believe the words you just told me?"

The boy was even more scared that he had done something wrong that he was becoming unsure. "Y-yes?" Looking at his father's reaction he saw nothing to confirm how he was feeling. Hiccup sat there staring straight ahead being very stoic made him waver. "Maybe? I don't know. Please don't be mad."

Hiccup heard the shakiness in his voice and knew the truth about what his son really thought and wanted. He finally looked at him giving him a gentle smile. He placed a hand on his slim shoulder and said, "Stoick don't you ever think I am mad at you. I will never be mad or angry at how you feel or what you think as long as it is you that are making those choices. But I do need to know the truth. Whoever told you, you need to kill something to be a Viking, to be part of our tribe or our family, they're wrong. It is who you are as a person that makes you a true Viking and no matter what if you are true to yourself your mother and I will be proud of you. Do you understand?"

Little Stoick sat there contemplating every word his father had said and in truth, he was boggled by it. "I'm not sure."

"Yeah," Hiccup started, "I wasn't sure at your age either, but you will eventually. There is one thing you do need to know though."

"What's that?"

"That I love you." He pulled his boy into one of his tightest hugs he could give and was swelled with pride when it was returned and he heard a soft whisper in his ear.

"I love you too Daddy."

When he pulled away he looked his son in his eyes. "Now do you really want to hunt a bear today?"

His head shook shaking the mop of red hair everywhere.

"Then what would you like to do? Go back home maybe?" Seeing the hurt and the 'how dare you to suggest that' look on his young son's face made Hiccup's hope of sitting in his chair slashed. "Okay, then what?"

Stoick sat there pondering until the idea struck him. "Zephyr said there was a huge field here and it has mom's favorite flowers. Can we go pick some for her?"

Hiccup grinned and nodded. It was a better idea than roaming the woods aimlessly. He was about to lead the way to the spot when his boy spoke up again.

"But I want to find it! Because that's what real explorers do!"

He chuckled, "Very well." He then let the lad happily run ahead of a few paces away leading the father on a very long detour route to their destination. "At least it's better than trying to find a bear."

The exploration was taking a lot longer than expected and Hiccup's legs and back were throbbing. Yet again he bore through it for it was worth it to see how happy this time with his youngest was making him. And believe it or not, Hiccup was having fun too. When answering his son's rapid-fire questions about the woods and the creature that they came across. He even explained how to keep track of where you were going so you wouldn't be going in circles or head in the opposite direction. It made him proud to be the boy's father.

Little Stoick soaked it all in like a sponge. He didn't even notice that his dad was nudging him in the correct direction.

Another few more moments and the duo finally made it to the field that was full of small, but beautiful wildflowers. There were large rock faces and boulders scattered around all nestled within a canopy of pine trees that allowed soft beams of sunlight to shine through. It was a very peaceful place one that Hiccup loved to take Astrid to when and if they ever had time for themselves. Though right now it was Little Stoick's playground as he ran through the field climbing and jumping off the rocks and scattering all the insects that were resting. Hiccup took the opportunity to sit down and enjoy the scene of his son being excited that he found the place all on his own and earning the title of an explorer.

The father watched his son enjoy the field but paid closer attention when the young boy demanded it.

"Dad! Dad! Look at me! Not only can I find places for you but look at how great am I at climbing!" He was halfway up one of the boulders before he jumped off to show his abilities to the older Haddock.

Hiccup was beaming, but did call out, "Just be careful!" Then he mumbled to himself, "Odin knows what your mother will do to me if anything happened to you." But as he watched his youngest climb on a different larger rock he titled his head a little and squinted. He didn't remember a stone that large in the middle of this field. His green eyes kept studying it very complex on why it felt so off of it being there. His son jumped off it several more times, but again Hiccup was more concern with the riddle that the object created. When Stoick let out a loud squeal as he jumped off it again Hiccup swore he saw the stone twitch. He wanted to shake the feeling away, but he couldn't. He stood up and began walking towards it as Stoick continue to play.

When the Chief was a few paces away the son jumped off the large figure again only landing by doing a small roll. He got up and brushed off the dirt proud he was able to make it from that height. He was determined to do it again to prove it wasn't a fluke.

As the boy was ready to walk back to climb again Hiccup didn't notice a twitch this time. It was a shift and then a low tremble from the ground. Then fear struck through the heart of the father as a rumble of a growl emerged from the thing. Hiccup would have had a multitude of questions if his terrified green eyes didn't focus on his son rushing towards it once again. "Stoick," he said in a petrified whisper.

At that moment the silhouette of a large adolescent dragon slowly started to rise, while Stoick kept looking at it very confused and terrified.

"Stoick!" Hiccup shrieked in panic as he rushed with all his might to reach his boy to get him out of there. He crashed into the young lad holding him tightly to his chest as the dragon turned and swung his tail in time to hit the two. It sent them flying through the air as Hiccup curled around his son until his back slammed into the side of one of the actual stones in the field. When the older Haddock hit the stone's edge the area received the sound of a loud crack and Hiccup's agonizing gasp before they fell to its base.

Little Stoick was under his father trying to regain all his sense and what had happened. He felt the crushing weight of his father's body and the cloak that covered them. He was about to move but saw that the creature was over them. The small boy held his breath and froze when he felt the warm air of the dragon washing over them as it sniffed. He saw the large glowing eyes of it and he whimpered as he prayed that it would go away.

As soon as the dragon arrived it left hoping to find a new spot to rest where it wouldn't be disturbed.

Little Stoick waited until the ground stopped shaking to move. When he did he had to wiggle to get out from under his father. He was out of breath, but he called out to the man, "Dad, I think it left." He waited and then asked, "What was that thing?" When he didn't get a response he looked at his father's pale emotionless face. "Dad?" He touched his arm and shook it lightly calling out to him again, "Daddy?" He shook him a little harder, but Hiccup laid there like a rag doll. "Dad please wake up. Please." His little hands kept trying to jostle the man. "I'm ready to go home now. I want to go, home Dad, please…" He stopped trying to wake up his father and took a second to look around the peaceful field that was losing daylight. His blue eyes were slowly filling to the brim with tears as he whimpered out, "I can't remember how to without you."

Astrid was drumming her fingers on the table every now and then looking towards the door. It wasn't completely sundown, but with her other two children home and not her husband or youngest she was becoming worried. Then her guy was screaming at her that something wasn't right. After about five more minutes of her nervous nagging stomach, she called for her only daughter.

"Yes mom?" the teenager asked.

"Hold down the fort while I'm gone," the older blonde ordered as she went to grab her cloak and other supplies before venturing out.

Zephyr was confused, "Where are you going?"

"And why is she in charge?!" whined Nuffink.

Astrid gave them all a stern look making them regret questioning her. "Because she's the oldest and I'm going to find the rest of our family. They should have been back by now."

The children nodded not wanting to agitate their mother more.

She stopped at several other places checking just in case they decided to hang out there before heading home. When she came up empty-handed was when she grabbed their friends to form a small search party. She even gave Snotlout a speech on how he will not be telling her children any more tall tales again.

The sun was inches away from completely setting and Astrid was more worried now than ever, especially since they started to light the torches. It was times like this that she wish she had Stormfly back, her missing family would have been found by now. They kept searching though calling out both boy's names even when they were beginning to see the moon slowly rising through the trees.

"It's getting pretty late," Fishlegs said.

"It's not that late," she snapped.

"Maybe they are already went home," Tuffnut suggested.

"No," she snapped again. She couldn't explain it, but she knew they weren't. Her friends were right however it was getting darker and soon they won't be able to see anything. "Just one more hour please. Then we can go."

Eret seeing the poor mother's distress touch her shoulder and gave a comforting smile, "One more hour. Now come on blokes yell louder so they can hear us. We don't have much time left."

Little Stoick was cold even as he laid in his father's arms. His dad still hadn't woken up yet and the boy kept sniffling. Every so often he began to cry because he didn't understand what was wrong with his father and he just wanted to go home. He laid there and wiped away some more tears that were falling. as soon as he did that and looked up he became scared. In the treeline, he saw the orange glow and all he could think was that the monster was back. That is until he heard his name. Then he heard it again and recognized the voice. He called out in a hoarse tone, "Mommy?"

He sat up and cleaned his snotty face with his sleeve and hearing his name again he began to race towards the light. He tripped only once, but bounced right back up and continued to run all while crying out to her, "Mommy! I'm here! I'm over here Momma!"

"Stoick?" She turned to see if she heard correctly and when she did she bolted. The other followed.

Astrid crushed her baby boy in a hug thanking every God that she had him in her arms again. When she could she pulled away and inspected him. She only noticed that he was dirty with maybe one or two scrapes. That and his blue eyes were a little red and puffy from his crying. However, something was missing and it frightened the mother, "Where's your father?"

He sniffled, wiped his nose on his sleeve again as he tried to hold back his tears.

"Stoick?"

"Daddy won't wake up."

Her heart dropped and her breathing became ragged as she realized what her son has said. "No…" She stared out to where she saw her friends standing. Her body felt like lead as she moved to get up and go near them. What her son said couldn't be true. The only reason why she stopped was that the twins held her back. With the glow of the torches, she was able to see Hiccup lying motionless against the boulder. His skin was white even with the fire's light upon it and as she watched Eret move in to check for a pulse she felt her bottom lip begin to quiver.

He looked at her and shook her head slowly before looking away trying not to cry himself.

They all tried not too but the tears were falling freely.

She easily pushed the twins away and fell upon her husband's lifeless body crying in agony. Everyone there gave Astrid her space as she mourned. She didn't want to beg, but she didn't want to believe this either. She moved so his head was in her lap as she cried and let her heavy tears fall on his face.

"Mom?" Stoick called quietly.

That was when everyone realized the seven-year-old was still there and no one knew what to do. The only one who stepped up to handle him while Astrid grieved was Snotlout.

He led the lad away and turn to sit them both so they weren't looking at his parents. This only confused the kid more as all he wanted to do was cheer his mother up and go home with his dad.

"Look kid your mom just needs some time with your dad."

"But he's going to wake up," he said, "They'll have time at home."

Snotlout became upset. He was not good at this sort of thing and Astrid threatened him that he was not allowed to tell tales to her children again. He growled while grinding his teeth until both their blue eyes locked on each other and he made a decision. "Okay, you know what I'm going to be straight with you. Your dad's not waking up. He's never going to wake up." He looked down at Stoick to see if he was understanding but instead, he noticed that his expression wasn't one that was about to burst into tears. That made the older male sight and soften his tone, "but you already knew that didn't you?"

The small lad nodded as tears softly rolled off his cheeks.

Snotlout pulled the kid into his lap and held him as the youngest Haddock was finally able to cry freely and get the comfort he so desperately needed. All the time Snotlout rubbed the kid's back telling him in his own way that things were going to be okay and that Hiccup was with his Grandfather in Valhalla.

Then Little Stoick said something that baffled the man, "Why did the monster have to come?"

"What monster?"

The man would never receive an answer for the stress and reality of the world of losing his dad finally caught up to Stoick and knocked him unconscious. He carefully got up not to disturb his slumber and then easily passed the kid off to Fishlegs. He walked over to Astrid, ignoring Eret telling him to stop, and pulled her out of her mourning, "Um, hey Astrid."

"What Snotlout," she said not taking her eyes away from Hiccup.

He took a knee beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder before speaking, "I think you need to take care of Little Stoick right now. He needs to go home." He made his point when showing her Fishlegs carrying her sleeping son. "The rest of us will bring Hiccup back."

Astrid looked back at her deceased husband and tried not to cry again as she kissed his forehead once more. She carefully placed his head back on the soft grass and Snotlout helped her to stand. Her blue eyes looked at Hiccup one more time and then she asked, "How could this have happened?"

"He says a monster did it." She was going to ask what that meant, but he continued, "Ask him tomorrow. Right now you need to be with your kids."

She nodded and went to retrieve her son from the large Viking, but even he stopped her.

"I got him. I'll walk both of you back."

"Thank you Fishlegs."

They came back and the first thing Astrid notice was her other children waiting for her. She brushed a tear away before they saw and asked, "What are you two still doing up?"

Zephyr answered, "We're waiting for you."

They both noticed their Uncle Fishlegs heading up the stairs carrying their little brother. It made Nuffink ask, "Where's Dad?"

Astrid's breath hitched and she tried very hard not to let the tears fall. She was a strong person. She always has been, but she didn't know how or if she could break it to them. Luckily, her daughter was always the one to figure things out quickly.

"Something happened didn't it?"

Her eyes were tightly closed as she tried not to cry. She moved over to sit on her living room floor and ushered her other two kids to come to her. She held them close, one in each arm, as she tried to explain what happened. "There was an accident and…" she trailed off as she began to cry again. This caused the other two to have tears brim in their own eyes.

"Mom?" Nuffink called.

"He didn't make it." Astrid started to sob and she kept sobbing, "He didn't make it."

When Astrid tried to hold onto her oldest Zephyr pushed her away. "You're lying."

The mother was completely taken back by her daughter's anger. And as she tried to tell her otherwise the young girl refused to believe.

"No! You are lying. There's been plenty of accident where Dad's been involved in and he has always made it. Always! You have to be lying."

"Sweetie," Astrid went to reach for her to comfort her, but shew as pushed away again and this time her daughter ran out the front door. "Zephyr!" she wanted to run after her, but Nuffink was clinging to her and now grieving at the loss of his father. He was just as confused as all of them were. This was now the first time where Astrid was torn at what to do.

The young Haddock girl refused to believe her mother as she ran through the village. Her father, the man who could train dragons and ride them like horses, couldn't be gone because of a stupid accident in their mediocre village. It couldn't happen. It was impossible. Not after all the stories that were told about him. Her mother just had to be a liar and her father was just out and about still being a Chief. It wouldn't be the first time he pulled an all-nighter. Maybe that's why she was running through the maze of roads trying to find him. To make her mother wrong for once in her life. But the part of her knew it was true because tears kept threatening to spill as she ran. She skidded to a halt though when running into the four other people in her family.

Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout, and Eret was carrying a makeshift stretcher with her father's cloak covering something. In a trance-like state, she walked up to them ignoring their warnings. Before anyone could stop the young teen she reached for the cloak and pulled it away. She gasped in horror, covering her mouth as she started to hyperventilate and cry. Her mother was right. Zephyr saw her father laying there dead, his skin now whiter than snow. The only comfort she had was that it looked like her father was sleeping.

Eret was the one who covered Hiccup back up and then decided he would walk the lass back to her mother, while the others were to take Hiccup to the elders to prep him for his funeral by the end of tomorrow.

On the walk back Zephyr was finally able to speak, "So she was right."

"She was."

"Dad always said she's always right. I just didn't want to believe her." She began sobbing and Eret went to hold her.

"I know. I know," he soothed. "I don't want to believe it either. Your father was one of a kind and the world just lost someone great." He wiped a few tears away, "But it's okay because he will always be with us. Especially for you and your brothers. It's just going to be hard right now for all of you. Just try to be there as much as you can and take everything he has taught you and use it, okay?"

She nodded trying to dry her eyes. "I'll try. I'll try my best for all of you." And she looked at the ex-trapper with so much determination that it made the man laugh. "What?"

"It's just… you sounded like your dad right then."

For some reason that made the young girl feel a little better, but it didn't soften the loss that the Haddock family had.

Everyone in the village stood on the shoreline watching the ship slowly burn. All the Haddock family stood out in front from Valka to Little Stoick. All were trying to be strong not only for the people of Berk but for each other. Gobber made a very beautiful speech one that brought tears to anyone's eyes as he mentioned what Hiccup meant to all of them. The lad being a beacon of light for the future of the tribe. A lunatic son for his mother and himself. A devoted husband who always had eyes for the Hofferson girl all his life. A caring and loving father to his three children. A wonderful friend to all who needed it. And most importantly a great man who changed the lives of his people and who knew what it meant to be a Chief. Even his closest friends added to the speech with their own stories about Hiccup making the day a more light and heartfelt experience which Astrid was more than grateful for.

Late one evening the new widow was finally able to connect all the piece on what happened that day on her boy's outing.

She had caught her youngest drawing at Hiccup's still untouched desk. Something he let them do all the time as long as they didn't touch his schematics. The drawing Stoick was doing made her tilt her head in question, "What are you making there?" It was quickly hidden and the single mother tried to coax it out of him, "It's okay, just let me see. I promise I won't be mad if that's what you're afraid of."

He still hesitated not sure if he was ready to show her the artwork.

Her blue eyes soften, "Would you rather tell me why you're up so late?"

Again the boy hesitated, but eventually told her, "I had a bad dream."

"Ah," she brushed her fingers through his red hair feeling the light dampness that was an indicator that he did wake up from a nightmare. She continued to run her nails through his locks. A trick she learned that would calm him down. "Would you like to tell me about that then?"

He shook his head and he kind of wished that his mother would leave him alone.

That left Astrid at a lost. It made her wish Hiccup was still here. Her boys always seem more inclined to open up around their father more than her. She sighed feeling more defeated today than ever. "Then I think we should head to bed."

He panicked at her words, "Can I please have a couple more minutes!"

Being at the end of his big round puppy dog eyes, Astrid could see why Hiccup was always swayed. "You have until I'm ready then."

Stoick nodded and waited until his mother was far enough away to pull out his drawing. This was something that his father had taught him. Whenever he had a bad dream Hiccup would take him to his desk, sit the seven-year-old on his lap, pull out the blank parchment and had him take the time to sketch out and swirl lines until he was relaxed to go back to sleep again. Most of the time he would end up sketching his dream and once he was done his father would take it and burn it with the candle's flame. The father would then proceed to hug the boy tight and once the drawing was gone he would tell him, "There no more bad dreams for you tonight."

Thinking about it made Little Stoick's eyes water as he angrily pressed the charcoal down and scribble out his feelings. He was so focused in on himself he never noticed that his mother had come back from the bedroom.

Astrid stood next to her son in shock and she placed a hand on his small back hoping it would calm him down. "Stoick, what is that?"

Stoick tried to take deep breathes to regain his composure, but through his weeping, he finally told her, "The monster."

Astrid carefully stole the drawing away from him and studied what was on the page. She was taken back at what she saw, but how her son described the creature was inaccurate. It wasn't a monster at all, but a dragon. And from the shape of it, she knew the species all too well. It was one of Fishlegs' favorites. The Crismon Goregutter. But what her son said next made her sob.

"That thing killed Daddy."

She crushed him into her arms and silently started to cry. Hiccup had failed. Astrid had failed. They all had failed their son. For instead of enforcing the love of dragons and how wonderful they are. They forgot and now her smallest son feared them. When she tried to correct her mistake it only made it worse. The lad had already made up his mind and what his mother was saying only made his reasoning sink deeper into stone. That the dragon was a monster and there wasn't any good to be found in it because it killed his father.

"Then what should we do with this then?"

"Burn it," Stoick answered. "Dad always made sure that when my dreams were burned it wouldn't come back." His breath was shaky when he uttered his last words, "Maybe the monster won't either."

She nodded and pulled the candle to her and held the parchment safely enough that it would be destroyed by the flame. Casting a glance at Little Stoick as she did this broke her heart. For on the corners of his mouth she saw the smallest of grins. A smile that proved to her she was too late to change the young boy's mind about dragons. It also gave way to start speaking about these wonderful creatures, which were safe in the hidden world, only as myths and legends.

[xialing-gf]

watch the sunset split in two (newt x reader)

wc: 2018 (fun fact this was the last fic i wrote in 2018!)

summary: you and tina have been friends since forever but time and boys (specifically one named newt) can change friendships

tw: mild anxiety

The sun melted into the hilly mountains, radiating a warm orange color into the fading blue sky. The rays of light fell across the luscious treetops, enhancing the richness of the scenery. Such a view could barely be captured vividly in anyone’s imagination, but then again, most happenings in Ilvermorny were furtive fantasies even wizards were awed by.

“Do you think you’ll ever get to watch a beautiful sunset like this outside of Ilvermorny?” Tina, your best friend, sighed dreamily, watching the sunset by your side. You both were leaning against the window sill in the silent dormitories. There were rare occasions when the Thunderbird dorms were quiet so it was a real delight to have a peaceful silence settle in during sunset time.

“I don’t know. I want to travel the world and maybe I’ll find a place that’s far from here, like an island, where the sunset looks the same. That would be a dream come true,” You mused, absorbing the scenery into your memory. Tina looked over at your determined expression, giggling at how engrossed you were in the sunset. She nudged you lightly, hoping to lighten up the conversation a bit. “You know, out of all the people I know you’re the most likely to explore the world.”

“I wonder where you got that idea,” You responded, causing her to nudge you with a little more playful force.

“I’m your best friend, dummy. You have to promise me that you’ll remember me, even if you’re oceans away. And it has to be a pinkie promise,” Tina solemnly stated, holding out her pinkie. You interlocked your pinkie with hers, nodding as you replied, “I promise.”

“Good,” Tina broke into a bright smile. “If you forget about me, I’ll come to haunt you when I’m a ghost.”

“Girls, everybody’s at dinner now. You should really come out now,” One of the older Thunderbird witches poked her head into the room. Quickly turning to face her, you and Tina simultaneously exclaimed, “We’re coming!”

You took one last glance at the gorgeous sunset before following Tina out of the Thunderbird dorms. A couple years later (okay maybe more than just a couple years) you showed up at Tina’s doorstep, the memory of the sunset appeared in your mind again. After graduating from Ilvermorny, you became a travel journalist and traveled across the world, just as Tina had predicted. From all the owls you sent each other, you knew she was now an Auror at MACUSA.

You decided to come back to America since you hadn’t returned in so long. Besides, you had yet to write an article about New York’s hidden gems. As you pressed the doorbell, a rush of anticipation shot through your bones as you wondered if she had changed at all.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Tina’s mouth fell open with surprise as she opened up the door. She didn’t change much; Tina just grew taller and cut her hair. She still had dark amber-like eyes and killer cheekbones.

“Good to see you too!” You laughed as she flung her arms around you and you returned the embrace warmly. You had missed her soft hugs and the absence of Tina in your life had only grown more unbearable as time passed.

“I’m sorry. I was just really surprised. Queenie and I weren’t expecting visitors. It’s been ages since you’ve visited!” Tina explained bashfully as she led you into the living room. The room was nearer than you expected and when Tina saw your surprise, she grinned, “Queenie makes sure my messiness doesn’t get carried into the house.”

“Tina, you didn’t tell me you got a boyfriend!” You gasped delightedly at the sight of two boys sitting on the couch. “Queenie’s got one too?”

“Oh Y/n, this is Jacob, Queenie’s boyfriend,” Tina gestured to the stout man who waved at you, grinning widely. “And this is Newt Scamander, my friend.”

Tina put heavy emphasis on the word “friend” but you didn’t believe her just yet. Newt looked familiar so you asked, “Newt, have I seen you before?”

“Wait, are you Y/n? Like the Y/n who writes for the ‘World Journal’?” Newt stood up, intrigued and stunned. You laughed at his eager behavior before reply, “Yep, that’s me.”

“I love the articles you write! They’re just so… vivid! It’s like I’m actually traveling with you when I read the articles!” You chuckled at how enthusiastic he was about your work, feeling proud that the words you laced together had an impact on people.

“Jacob, let’s head over to the kitchen and leave these two to get to know each other,” You flashed Tina a grateful smile as you sat down next to Newt on the couch. You two quickly bonded over the shared love for traveling.

Newt traveled across the world to document and write about magical creatures and you enjoyed listening and share hilarious but heartfelt encounters with beasts. In return, you wrote up a list of place that had tons of rare creatures. You also talked about writing an article about New York’s unknown but beautiful landmarks which led to the discovery of Newt being British.

Only when dinner was ready was when you both had to briefly pause the conversation. At the dinner table, you exchanged words with him between bites. You noted the analytical gaze Queenie was flashing towards you and Newt, responding by loudly thinking, “Please stop Queenie, it’s obvious you’re staring.”

Queenie looked down, embarrassed to be caught in the act but once she stopped staring, Tina began glancing at you and Newt chattering away with a neutral expression. Tina was always determined to remain as composed and emotionless as possible which strongly contrasted with your care-free personality which made it hard for you to understand her emotions at times. Tina looked away when she noticed you were trying to read her emotions.

Time raced past and before you knew it, you had to leave. “Thank you so much for letting me spend the evening at your place, Tina. Thank you Queenie for the lovely meal and Jacob, your pastries were absolutely delicious! I’ll be sure to write about your shop in my next article.”

“I can walk you to your place if you’d like,” Newt quickly offered before you could step out of the door. Queenie and Jacob exchanged a knowing look as they broke out into giant grins. Tina was the only one who didn’t seem so enthusiastic about that idea.

“Oh, that would be great actually,” You replied, walking out the door and down the steps, Newt catching up to you. After waving one last one to the Goldstein sisters, you and Newt strolled down the street, talking about the most spectacular places on the planet. Once you arrived at the door of the hotel you were staying at, you paused for a moment before sighing. “Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

Newt stuck out his hand for a handshake but you gave him a hug instead. He was oddly huggable for somehow as tall and lanky as him.

“If you want to meet again, I mean, er meet up again I’ll still be in New York for a while. I’m staying at Tina’s and I know you’re going to be busy because of the article you have to write but I, uh really enjoyed today,” Newt awkwardly stuttered his way through his words. A faint blush spread across the freckles spilled across his cheeks.

“I’ll be sure to drop by,” You gave him one last smile before heading into the hotel lobby. You might’ve taken his words to a greater degree than he meant as you stopped by Tina’s place every day, bringing flowers and food as a sign of thanks. After all, they weren’t complaining about your frequent visits so you had to repay them somehow.

As you and Newt grew closer, you noticed a shirt in Tina’s behavior around you. She seemed colder and more distant which confused you as all you had been, or at least tried to be, was friendly. You decided to try to politely confront her about it so one day you arrived at her house just as work ended and waited outside, sitting on the steps.

“Hey Tina, can we talk for a quick second?” You stood up, greeting Tina promptly with a serious expression. Her indifferent look melted into one of slight worry as she nodded, biting her bottom lip nervously.

“You’ve seemed kind of off lately. Is everything okay? Does it have something to do with work?” Tina looked like a deer caught in headlights briefly before she responded.

“Yeah, MACUSA’s dealing with a difficult case. It’s been kinda stressful,” Tina coughed awkwardly, obviously lying through her teeth.

“Come on Tina, I know you enough to tell that was a lie. There’s another reason why you’ve been returning from work late. Please tell me, I just want to help,” You begged, easily blocking her attempt to get to the door.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. It’s because of you and Newt. I’ve always had a liking for him so it feels so unfair that you just swooped in and stole his heart,” The words hit you like a truck full of bricks. You had been so engaged with Newt that you unknowingly betrayed your best friend. Guilt and sorrow crushed your heart as you feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety crowd around you.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, Tina. I’m really sorry,” Tina only responded with a stiff glare before walking past you to open the door. You needed some space to think so you took off, speed-walking down the streets. Once you arrived at your hotel room, you sat down at the typewriter and began working on the article, hoping it would distract you from the guilt. It worked for a while before your brain began playing a game of tug-a-war with itself again.

The next few days consisted of you locking yourself in your room and working on the article after article. One day, you heard a knock on your door while you were working. You assumed it was room service so you yelled, “Please do not disturb!”

The knocking wouldn’t stop so you stood up and opened the door. Tina stood with a box in her hands and an apologetic look in her eyes. “Jacob wanted me to bring this box of pastries to you. I’m really sorry about what I said. I was too harsh.”

Tina pushes the box into your hands before you could object and continued, “Newt’s been a mess without you. He’s been moping around all the time because you don’t visit. I told everybody that you had to work because of a spontaneous deadline you got assigned. Please come talk to Newt. You’re the only one who allows him to be himself to the fullest extent.

“But what about you? I can't be around him if it hurts you,” You signed, a sense of defeat sinking into your stomach.

“I want you both to be happy and if it means that he ends up with you, so be it,” Tina firmly stated, taking your hands into hers as she looked you in the eye.

“Thank you,” You hugged her, the feeling of defeat replaced with one of joy. You caught up with her as she walked to her house and spent time with Newt, cheering him up. You saw Tina watching you both with a small smile on her lips and felt a twinge of guilt. She wanted the best for you and Newt but you still hated that you were hurting her by helping Newt.

“So I’m planning on heading to Peru soon and I was wondering, do you want to come with me?” Newt’s smile widened as he nodded earnestly, looking you in the eye.

“That would be an incredible dream come true,” Newt answered, resulting in Queenie squealing gleefully from the kitchen. And so you were sat at the top of a mountain, your head resting on Newt’s shoulder as you both watched the breathtaking sunset over a jungle of Peru. You realized that now you were watching a beautiful sunset with an equally magnificent boy by your side and you couldn’t be any happier.

~

search the tag #samfb for more fantastic beasts fanfics!

[confinesofpersonalknowledge]

the m diaries

a series of short fics i wrote for my friend, who I am lucky enough to share a birthday with! this is for you, m, even if it’s late <3

pairings: logicality, background prinxiety

word count: 3667

warnings: i don’t think there are any for this? its the most fluff i’ve ever written. please tell me if i need to tag something!

taglist (general): @romanamongthestars @heir-of-the-founders @anthoscopus @ocotopushugs

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part one - a worthwhile ‘whisk’

It’s not a secret that Patton likes to bake - he does it often, and he does it well, and the others are not hesitant to show their appreciation of Patton’s baked goods. To say that Patton is a lover of food is to underestimate greatly, in Logan’s observations of the other Side.

It’s commonplace to find the other Side in the kitchen, a delicious smell wafting from the room alongside the hum of whatever song Patton was deciding to obsess over that day. Many days, it was a tune from Disney. Roman was quick to join in, happily singing along to whichever song Patton chose, dancing majestically in the dining area - alone, or with a partner. These days, he seemed to enjoy tugging Virgil into his dances, much to the blushing chagrin of the anxious Side.

Sometimes Roman or Virgil are recruited by Patton to help bake. Usually, this is a subtle maneuver from Patton whenever he notices that either is feeling particularly high-strung that day, lashing out more, or simply a bit quicker to give a reaction. And usually, he’s successful in cheering the others up, two flour-covered cheeks stretched in a dimpled simple difficult to ignore even by someone having the worst of days.

He’s yet to invite Logan into such an activity, though Logan supposes that, too, makes sense. Logan is rarely prone to the overly-emotional outbursts of the other three - he finds them frivolous and oftentimes unnecessary to achieving the best possible task. As such, Patton is less likely to notice when Logan is feeling particularly uncharitable, or, as he likes to put it, down in the dumps.

Usually, though, when Logan is feeling in such a way, he finds himself in the Commons, curled with a book he pretends to read as he listens to the consistent, calming noises of Patton rustling about in the kitchen, with his consistent humming. Logan finds comfort in the softness of their home in such moments, the simpleness of simply existing alongside Patton without need of their interaction, and getting along without saying a word. It’s… nice.

So finding Patton curled on one end of the couch, the cardigan Logan gave him fully on, no music or light streaming from the kitchen as the Commons are unusually enveloped in darkness is… surprising to say the least. Patton doesn’t say a word when Logan settles down next to him, barely glancing up at him. Though, in the brief moment where their eyes met, Logan suspects that he spotted a glimpse of bright tears swimming in Patton’s eyes.

Frowning to himself as he stood, Logan quietly made his way to the kitchen, flicking on the lights and ignoring the twing of something deep in his chest at the way Patton sniffled quietly in the Commons. Gathering the ingredients, vessels, and utensils necessary for Patton’s favourite dessert - triple fudge brownies - he began to quietly and gently place them on the counter, hoping they would catch the other Side’s interest.

When it’s been a few minutes and Logan has found himself halfway through the recipe with no sign of gaining Patton’s attention, he decides a more nuanced approach may be appropriate. Wiping his face on his shoulder, unknowingly smearing flour on his face, Logan washes his hands and quickly exits the kitchen, making the short way over to where the huddled form of Patton Sanders continues to sit.

Sitting down gently next to him, Logan waits until Patton spares him a glance to offer him an uncertain smile. When Patton does a double-take, that smile becomes a little more genuine, and surprisingly, a laugh bubbles in Logan’s throat when Patton pulls out of the curled position he had previously assumed - which must have been terrible on the Side’s back - to stare at him in shock. Standing up, offering a hand to help Patton do the same, Logan gently asks, “Would you like to bake with me?”

The beaming, though slightly wet, smile that Patton gives him is answer enough. Hours later, when Roman and Virgil descend the stairs into the Commons, drawn by the housewarming, drool-inducing smell of the triple fudge brownies set to bake in the oven, they find the forms of Patton and Logan in the kitchen, covered in flour and other various ingredients. Both are laughing, faces aglow under the crappy kitchen lights as they steal unknowing glances each other, admiration clear in their gazes. Both are oblivious to the outside world, and the knowing glances that Roman and Virgil slant at them, lost in each other’s eyes and the happiness they find hidden deep inside.

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part two - a four-am snack

See, the problem isn’t really the time; four-am is no stranger to Logan, not with his tendency to go off on late-night binges on Wikipedia, always constantly searching for new information, new things that he hadn’t known before, something to settle the restless itch in his mind that always pushes him to learn more, know more, find out more. It usually ends in badly-hidden dark circles under his eyes, and the slightly disapproving frown Patton slants at him in the mornings, forcing Logan to hide the slight hurt he feels at the look.

That is - being awake at four-am is not something new for Logan. For Patton, however, is another story altogether. The man is the very definition of early mornings and early nights - Logan doesn’t think he’s ever seen the pure embodiment of sunshine stay awake beyond 11pm on any night. And he’s always awake, no matter what, at 6am, in the kitchen happily humming as the delicious smells of breakfast waft through the house.

So, on the rare night in which Logan is actually asleep at four-am, he’s rather surprised to find Patton gently shaking him awake, grin bright and happy under his glasses. It’s far too bright for four in the morning, but Logan finds that he cannot bring himself to truly complain. Not when the full force of the same smile is directed straight at him, even if it is at four in the morning.

Speaking of which.

“Patton… why, exactly, are the two of us awake at four in the morning?” Logan asks, voice heavy with sleep as he pushes himself onto his elbows. Patton doesn’t reply, simply raising an excited finger to his lip in a shushing motion and grabbing Logan’s wrist, warm fingers curling snuggly around it.

Logan is suddenly glad it is too dark for Patton to see the red that crawls up his neck. He lets the shorter Side bounce ahead of him, eyes watching the bounce of soft curls as they head down the stairs.

The Commons are silent, save for the quiet fall of rain in the backyard outside. For once, the TV and the radio are off, silence settling into the Commons in a way that it rarely does when all four of them are awake. Darkness has quietly befallen the Commons, shadows gently reaching sleepy fingers towards the center of the room, where Patton happens to be dragging Logan anyway.

Logan follows the Side, mostly in a sleepy haze of confusion, until Patton is dragging him to sit down on the couch, the blinds having been opened to the outside world. Rain falls heavily and steadily, the world occasionally illuminated by flashing glimpses of lighting far in the distance, thunder rumbling quietly and comfortingly. Patton doesn’t say a word, but aims another one of his blindingly beautiful smiles at Logan, and Logan… understands, suddenly, what Patton wants from him without a single word.

Gently, he relaxes into the couch, feet drawing up underneath him in a comfortable fold as Patton settles in comfortably next to him. Silence curls around them, blanketing the moment in a kind of peace difficult to find in their rushing, energy-filled home during the day. And Logan could understand why Patton awoke him - for this, for a moment such as this, Logan wouldn’t mind waking up a million times.

The peace is a fragile thing, really - easily broken by the slightest of movement or the softest of noise. The background of the falling rain is soothing, a quiet reassurance to busy minds that moments of solitude and recuperation are available. Moments like these are difficult to find and even harder to catch. Some distant part of Logan is unimaginably grateful that Patton invited him to one - and chose to share it with Logan.

Eventually, Logan’s eyes slip close, his head tilting dangerously until he finds himself leaning on Patton. It draws a wide-eyed gaze from Patton, one that is quick to soften into something highly akin to fondness and love. Shifting them slightly into a much more comfortable position, Patton places a gentle kiss at Logan’s dark brow before slipping off both their glasses. Closing his own eyes, Patton allows himself to drift off.

In front of them, rain continues to gently fall. Lightning flashes illuminate both their faces as they sleep, a soft, different kind of peace settling quietly over the sleeping pair.

All is well.

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part three - a field day of flowers

It starts with Roman and Patton, and their overly-enthusiastic love of flowers, gardens, and flower gardens. And Virgil, who apparently spent one Wikipedia-fueled night with Logan on a binge of flower meanings and is unable to say no to Patton’s puppy dog eyes. Not that he has to, with Roman aiming a hopeful smirk at him. Virgil is especially weak to those, as Logan has come to note over the last few weeks.

It ends with Logan’s hair full of flowers, and Patton bounding up to him, grin firmly in place as he shoves bouquets of multi-coloured roses into Logan’s arm. How they end up there is the true story.

Logan finds that Roman has a very unsubtle way of trying to subtly pushing him into asking Patton out. That is - the field they are currently in is absolutely chock full of flowers that symbolize romance, and different forms of love that Logan does not necessarily want to admit that he feels.

They are bright and beautiful, much like Patton, who very much has a fondness of bright and beautiful things. Which means that when Patton goes running off to the fields, hands curling around wild red carnations, Logan cannot help the red flush that travel up his neck. And at the question Patton poses him, curls bouncing as he tilts his head, Logan has to take a moment for himself before he can bring himself to answer. After all, red carnations represent deep romantic love, as well as passion, and Roman is really bad at being subtle.

Logan spots Virgil’s influences when he sees jasmines in the distance, the long-stemmed white flower catching Patton’s eye at the same time it does Logan’s. And Logan remembers a distant conversation, months prior under a starry sky and a nervous Virgil far too anxious about approaching a certain prince in regards to his feelings. Logan had remembered jasmines, then, sitting under the stars with his best friend - remembered that they had a symbol for unconditional and eternal love. Patton comes dashing up with a gentle handful of them, quietly threading them into Logan’s hair as he stands stock-still, a blush alighting both their faces even as they avoid each others’ gazes.

Purple bellflowers are next to join the wild array of flowers in Roman’s field and Logan’s hair. Patton finds them, quietly cooing over how they remind him of Virgil even as he picks them, holding them out gently to Logan. By now, the blush is something far more permanent, stuck on his face as Patton gently tucks two bellflowers behind each of Logan’s ears. He’s not entirely sure that Patton is truly understand the meaning of the flowers he is presenting to Logan like a gift - bellflowers are said to symbolize unwavering love, after all.

It is the similar story with the asters, though Logan is the one to point out the small area where the white-and-yellow flowers grow. He isn’t really sure why he did it, though some instinct drove him to do it, some art of him wondering if Patton would appreciate the flower as he quietly explained the meaning of asters. (They were symbols of love, of trust.)

And that is the story of how they end up here - with Logan and an arrangement of flowers in his hair, each one more romantic in meaning, and Patton running up with more in his hand.

Except these are roses - red and white, together, coming together to represent a union, and red alone to mean true love - and Logan is not sure Patton is fully aware of the meaning his actions hold, of the things he has communicated silently to Logan. And Logan - he cannot bear it, cannot have false hope in the light of things unsaid, not when a large part of his world teeters hopefully on the axis of the brightness in Patton’s eyes, and the pangs of sadness that overcome him when that brightness dulls, even for a moment. Of this, Logan must be sure.

And so he asks, voice quiet and gentle and hopeful despite his every attempt to keep it impassive. To be sure that he is not selling his heart away to someone who does not want, has never wanted it.

Patton only smiles and boops Logan’s nose, smiling as he calls Logan silly, saying that he’s been trying to send a message the entire time.

Logan smiles.

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part four - a midnight wait

It is 5 minutes away from midnight on the night of April 30th, and Logan is suddenly nervous. It’s like every minute has slowed down to a crawl as he awaits the inevitable striking of midnight, and the shift into May - May 1st being, of course, Patton’s day of birth.

He’s likely being irrational about this event in its entirety. It is not, in any shape or form whatsoever, unusual or irrational to stay awake until the moment when a new day is born simply to extend birthday wishes to a friend - Logan has experienced the same from his friends often. But Patton - Patton is not just any other friend. No, he cannot be, not with the giant crush Logan has on him.

4 minutes now, and all Logan can think about is Patton’s bright blue eyes and the way they light up behind his glasses whenever he sees Logan. The rush of happiness Logan gets at seeing the happiness in Patton’s eyes, the way the blue eyes see more, understand more than anyone else Logan has known. Here is the truth, raw and honest, if Logan was to ever give it: Patton is much smarter than others make him out to be, much smarter than he himself makes him out to be. After all, intelligence is not simply a measure of knowledge useful in schools - there are countless kinds of intelligence, and Patton is the most emotionally-intelligent person Logan has ever had the pleasure to know, the pleasure to be friends with. It is all written in his eyes.

3 minutes, and Logan’s thoughts shift to Patton’s smile. It has never failed to draw the attention of people - it’s the biggest compliment Patton gets, that his smile is wide and beautiful. And, seeing it from an absolutely objective viewpoint, it is a beautiful smile - the most beautiful Logan has seen adorning the frankly perfect beautiful face of the most wonderful human Logan has had the privilege of knowing. Patton’s smile is enough to light up a room, enough to bring cheer even to the most of upset of people when all else has failed. It’s one of the most wonderful things about him.

2 minutes, and Logan is suddenly struck with the image of Patton’s freckles. They’re everywhere, adorning most of Patton’s face with their grace and their beauty, and Logan wants to spend every day of his life counting them over and over again, tracing the constellations in them and finding new ones. They’re mini-stars on Patton’s cheek, an universe spreading itself across the bridge of Patton’s nose for Logan to appreciate in the moments when there is quiet and peace across the room - and sometimes in the ones where there is not. He’s often been caught staring at the freckles, mentally counting them, tallying up the counts in his mind and committing them to his memory.

1 minute - Logan is truly nervous now, a strange kind of energy humming in him as his grip tightens around his phone. This birthday feels different somehow, as if it means more than a simple wish on a simple minute. He and Patton have been dancing around each other for awhile now, neither acknowledging their emotions or doing something that would bring their awkward dance to a stop, neither willing to take the initiative if the other isn’t. But of course, each moment is important, and as Logan sits in bed, phone in hand, he knows that this birthday will bring something new into his life, and into Patton’s.

0 minutes.

Me to Patton <3: Happy Birthday, Patton. May all the wishes you may want come true.

Patton <3 to you: Aww, thank you Logan! See you later today! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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part five - dental shenanigans

Logan has a tendency to wear a straight face like a mask - neutrality is his natural state, and oftentimes it is mistakenly misread for displeasure. It’s highly ever the case - Logan is a serious man, and he does not like to display his emotions for everyone to see. He takes them for a sign of weakness - he should be strong enough that he is the only one he needs to deal with, and understand his emotions, in his mind. It’s a mentality Patton works hard to get rid of.

Of course, that is a Logan who is not high on anesthesia following a dental procedure. A Logan who is high on anesthesia is a completely different story, as Patton is about to learn.

It’s like this - a high Logan is one that lowers the boundaries he has, the walls he has built to exclude almost every and isolate himself into a fortress of solitude, as illogical as it may be. Which means he’s no longer suppressing the emotions that rise and fall in his chest like waves.

Patton sees this when he first enters the room, Logan’s eyes immediately jump to Patton, forgetting everything and everyone else in the room as a wide grin splits his lips, Patton’s name tumbling out his mouth in a happy cry. The nurse shook her head fondly in the corner, knowing she’d lost the war for the man’s attention from the moment a nervous-looking Patton had stepped into the room.

Patton, for his part, was no less dramatic. He was quick to run over to Logan’s side, grabbing his hand as he stared in worry at the usually stoic man, not registering that Virgil had ducked into the room behind him, phone ready in his hand as he snickered quietly to himself, video already rolling. He had eyes only for Logan, and it seemed that Logan only had eyes for Patton.

This would be fun to show to Logan when he wasn’t quite as loopy in the morning, but for now, Virgil was going to take as much advantage of this as he could. Nothing like a little bit of blackmail for the man who had piles of blackmail on the others, stored safely away.

Virgil has to bite his lips to stop his laughter when Logan suddenly throws his arms around Patton’s shoulders, loudly declaring him the most perfect of angels, giggling as Patton automatically hugged him back before quietly whispering that Patton gave the best hugs, ever.

Roman was really going to hate that he’d missed this, especially because Virgil was too busy shaking with laughter to really hold the camera steady. It was an experience in-and-of itself to see Logan so… open with his emotions, especially in front of people he wasn’t familiar with in the first place. And for the man to do it so flamboyantly, as well, in a manner that didn’t fail to remind Virgil of Roman’s overly-extravagant way of speaking and acting altogether. It was as if Logan was a whole new man in such a loopy state.

Though it was becoming clearer that Patton didn’t quite know how to handle Logan in such a state, judging by the way that Patton clung to Logan, not allowing him to fall but not really holding him as if he was hugging him. Virgil supposed it was fair enough - none of them had really ever seen Logan so… extra, before.

Before Virgil can do anything, however, Logan pulls away, hands coming up to grab Patton’s face as he gasps, before loudly and suddenly asking, “Oh my god, are you an angel?”

Patton giggles lightly, reaching up and fixing the crooked glasses on Logan’s face before responding, “No, I’m Patton, silly.”

Logan gasps again, hands covering Patton’s own on his face, “But that’s the best thing to be! Patton’s are so cool, and fun, and nice, and sweet, and smart, and funny, and they make the best puns! My Patton is really, really cool! Have you met him?”

Virgil laughs at the blush covering Patton’s entire face, though Patton’s voice is steady as he responds, “Really? You should really tell your Patton you feel this way. I bet he would be really happy if you did.”

Logan smiles sleepily at Patton, eyes blinking slowly as he whispers, “Okay, Patton! If you say so, though no telling him! I want to tell him when I wake up, okay? No telling Patton, you have to pinky promise me.”

Patton pinky-promises Logan, and Logan only smiles again, before succumbing to his own exhaustion and slipping into sleep, hand still holding Patton’s lightly, their pinkies linked. Patton makes no move to unlink them, even as Virgil approaches quietly, ready to tease the hell out of his friend.

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Comments and reblogs are highly, highly appreciated and also lifeblood. Ofc, no forcing. <3 have a good night

[heyilovefandoms]

behind the masks

Summary: You were the superhero known as El, controller of the elements. You fight crime with the one and only Spider-man. One day, Tony Stark recruits you to help the avengers, and you unknowingly learn who the spider boy truly is.

Genre: Fluff!

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader (gender neutral!)

Warnings: swearing! death! (kinda)

A/N: Gah i really like this one, i’m so sorry if the format is weird, i had to upload this on my phone since tumblr is being a lil bitch. anyways, hope you enjoy!!

~

Reader’s POV

“Thanks for another fun night El!” the teenage boy’s voice rung out into the late New York night. “My pleasure Spidey boy!” I called back, waving goodbye as he swung back to wherever he called home.

I gave a soft sigh, I loved getting to fight crime with him every night. And I always wondering who he was behind that mask. But we made a deal when we first started fighting together: don’t reveal your identity unless absolutely necessary. I’m still quite curious, but I always put it behind me and enjoy my moments with the web slinger. With that, I turned around and carefully floated down to the fire escape outside my bedroom. I pulled off my charcoal colored spy suit and matching face mask. Not too much damage done tonight, just a couple bruises, nothing new.

I walked over to my dresser and pulled out my favorite pair of sweatpants and a Midtown High school sweatshirt, definitely doesn’t belong to me. I must have stolen it from Peter a while ago.

Speak of the devil, a knock on my window tapped me out of my thought process. My best friend and crush, Peter Parker, smiled at me as I opened up the window so he could climb in. “Coming in a little late tonight are we? I thought we were studying at 7, not 11?” I asked, crossing my arms as I looked at him. He frowned, “I’m sorry, I know I keep doing this to you but,” “Stark internship, I know. Let’s just study, okay? I really don’t want to fail chemistry.” He hesitated, before nodding and sitting on the floor with me.

I really didn’t understand this “Stark Internship” thing, he always shut down whenever I asked about it. I don’t like him keeping secrets from me, but who am I kidding, I hide stuff from him too. Such as the fact that I go by El and fight crime in Queens. Somethings we just keep to ourselves.

Time appeared to pass by faster then I remembered, and soon enough, “It’s 1 in the morning, I think it’s about time I head out.” Peter spoke up, breaking the concentrated silence. I looked at my phone and noticed the time. “Oh geez! Yea you better get out of here, don’t want to give May a heart attack.” He stood up and grabbed his backpack, putting all his books back in. We walked to the window and Peter climbed out, turning around to say his goodbye.

“Oh! I almost forgot, do you want this back?” I asked, pointing down to his sweatshirt I was currently wearing. He paused for a moment, seeming to take in my words. “Nah,” he said, looking down at his hands, beforing looking back at me. “you look cute in it.” My face heated up and I felt a smile grow on my face. “Night (Y/n)!” Peter called out, before climbing up the staircase to his apartment. “Night..” I managed to stutter out, still relishing in his words. He called me cute! In his clothes! Wow!

With that, I snuck back into my room and turned out the lights, then flopped onto my bed. “Jesus Peter Parker, you just have go and make my heart flutter all gross like don’t you.” I said to myself, fully aware he couldn’t hear me. I sighed and closed my eyes, drifting off to a peaceful slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~

I woke to a loud banging on my door, causing me to roll out of bed and slam on the floor. “Jesus fuck what do you want it’s like 5 in the morning!” I moaned out, pulling myself up into a seated position. The door opened, revealing the “genius billionaire playboy philanthropist” that was Tony Stark. I stood up quickly and managed to stutter out a “Uh-I..hi.”

He raised his eyebrow at me and said, “This is the kid arachnid boy talks about? Alright then, I’m Tony Stark but you already know that, and I need you to come with me.” Then left my room. I stood in shock for a minute, before coming to it and getting dressed. I threw on a pair of black pants before putting Peter’s sweatshirt back on. It was warm and I wanted the comfort.

I slipped on my converse and ran down the stairs, to see Tony waiting for me by the door. “Ready kid? Cause your life is about to get turned upside down.”

Avengers towers was huge. No, massive. It appears big on the outside, and it’s fucking gigantic on the inside, the underground levels being triple the size of the exterior. I stood still for a moment, before continuing to follow Tony to wherever he was leading me.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while, since spider kid never shuts up about his crime fighting duo adventures, anyways. We’re hoping you can join the team for a while, or permanently, depending on how this mission goes.” He paused, bringing up a hologram of my suit, but better. “ We’ve made you a new suit as well, kept the same design, just a couple of upgrades: bulletproof, vibranium metal of course, sourcers to help your power flow faster and keep your energy, and it’s all stored in a necklace. Took inspiration from that Shuri gal. Quite the genius you know.” A silver necklace popped up, with a pearl charm on the end.

He handed it to me, and I attached it around my neck. “So, whaddya say kid? Willing to help out the avengers?” I took a breath and looked up at Tony, a role model of mine since he first came forwards and said he was iron man, he was asking for my help. “Um, I’m confused.” I stated, “Why me? I’m just a teenager from New York, why do you need my help?”

Tony looked a bit taken back, before answering, “Because the avengers are falling apart, and frankly, the world will be too. We need help, I need help, and more importantly, Spider-man is gonna need his partner.” I thought about his words for a bit, this is my chance to make a real change for the world. Save the people who need it.

“I’m in.” A smirk grew on Tony’s face. “Perfect, then suit up. We start now.” With that, he clicked a button and his suit came flying towards him. “Oh you weren’t kidding, um okay.” I looked down at the necklace, unsure of how to make it work. “Tap it with some fire, should pop right out!” Tony called from above. I nodded and put a flicker of fire on my finger. I tapped the charm, and my new and improved suit grew onto my body.

“Okay that’s kinda badass!” I yelled, excitement filling my voice. “Hurry up kid! We don’t have time to play with the new settings!” “I’m coming!” I swirled my hands and made air appear, pushing me into the sky with Iron Man.

“Spider boy is making his way over, get over to the west end of the air carrier. I’ll give you both instructions once you meet up.” I nodded as he flew away. I soared into the air, pushing my way to the location Tony gave me, spotting a familiar red and blue blur coming towards me. “ON YOUR LEFT!” His voice rang out. I pushed a ball of air to him to catch him, and both of us landed on the edge of the air carrier.

“Hey webs, missed ya!” I said, happiness overtaking me. “Missed you too El!” He was about to say something else, before Tony’s voice came ringing in my ears. He must have put an intercom in my new suit. “Alright underoos no flirting on the job. I’m sending you both downtown, we’re getting signs of two quinjets coming down and we need you to find out who or what is in them. Understand me?”

“You got it Mr. Stark!” Spider-man’s upbeat tone responded, I chimed in with my own enthusiastic yes, and we both took off.

~~~~~~~~~~

So turns out, the who was a whole army. The what? Still no idea. “Backup is on the way kids, try and get to the rendezvous point!” Tony yelled out to us, as I took a slam to the stomach, before hurling a fireball at my attacker.

I looked over to search for Spider-man, but couldn’t see his bright suit anywhere. “Spidey?” I called out to the coms, before causing an earthquake and knocking out a circle of alien things. Still no idea what they are. I backhanded another and took off into the sky. I sent a strike of electricity down, giving me enough time to hijack one of the quinjets and take off to the rendezvous spot. I hooked the system up to my coms. “Spidey? Tony? Someone please come in!”

I sat in the pilot seat and put in the location, letting it go into autopilot. I don’t know how to fly a fucking airplane man that’s terrifying.

“El? You there?” Tony’s voice called out. “TONY! Yes I’m here! I lost Spidey, I..I don’t know where he is..I don’t know if he’s even alive.” I let my own words sink in. I’d grown attached to my crime fighting partner, and I just left him for dead out there. “Tony I need to go back he could still be down there getting attacked!” I started freaking out, trying to change the location, when Tony’s voice cut me off. “EL! You will get to the rendezvous point. We know where Spidey is, just..get here soon.”

Ages later, I made it to our spot, and flew into the building. “WHERE IS HE?” I called out. Tony looked up from his computer and saw the angry look in my eyes. “Tony where is he. Please I need to know that he’s safe.” I knew I was friends with Spidey, but I didn’t realize I felt this much about him. I have my precious Peter outside of the superhero world, but Webs was giving him a run for his money.

“He got onto the other quinjet and flew up to their loader, he’s on it right now.” Tony looked distressed. This was his kid, he was in mortal danger, and it was Tony’s fault. “We managed to get into their camera system, but his coms are down. We can’t get a hold of him.” A flash of color appeared on Tony’s screen, and both of us pulled our attention to it.

Spidey was on the side of the wall, trying to break something off. He was struggling to breathe, ripping off his mask, revealing his face.

“PETER!” The realization hit me. How the fuck did I not notice before? The voice, the mannerisms, the science jokes, THE DAMN STARK INTERNSHIP! Peter, THE spider-man, started choking, not getting any air into his system. “TONY HELP HIM! HE CAN’T BREATHE!” Panic was setting over me, as I started having an anxiety attack.

Peter Parker, was not only Spider-man, but he was stuck in space with no way to breathe. There was no way we could send anything up there fast enough to help him. He was going to die up there, my best friend was going to die. There are too many things I have to tell him; I’m El, his crime fighting best friend, I’m in love with him, despite being his best friend.

I looked back at the camera and got one last glance at Peter’s struggling face, before his gripped released and he fell through space.

The next moments were a blur. I remember screams ripping through me, falling to the floor with a slam, an earthquake waving around me. Sobs crashing in my ears, and a sense of rage. I remember Tony picking me up, and carrying me into one of the med bay rooms. I must have been sedated, because I woke up and saw a new face looking down at me.

“I’d be careful sitting up if I were you, you drained a lot of energy earlier, and the sedatives were pretty heavy, slowed down your body’s quick healing.” The man’s voice was calming, as I eased my way to rest my back against the wall. “I’m Doctor Strange, and you are?” “(Y/n), or El. Doctor Strange what happened to Peter? Please tell me he’s okay, I can’t lose him.” I felt another panic attack rising up, but Strange put his hand on my shoulder and I felt myself relax.

“Just relax, he’s fine. I’m a sorcerer, I reversed the time frame and we sent Peter up with a better suit. He’s sleeping right now, but I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” I let out a sigh of relief. “He knows that time got fucked with right? And that he pretty much died right?” The doctor nodded. “He was in shock for a bit, but was very grateful to know we saved him. Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A small smile graced my lips, I knew Tony cared about Peter, more than he would ever admit. I felt a chill over take my body, noticing I was still in my El suit. “Natasha brought you some clothes to change into. Get dressed and we can make our way to the boy.” He handed me a small stack of clothes, which consisted of my black jeans and Peter’s sweatshirt. I got dressed, and with the help of Strange, I made my way to the room Peter was sleeping in, and snuck in.

“Peter?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb him. I saw his head move around and a small moan of pain come out. I rushed over to his bed and looked at him, concern filling my eyes. “Hey spidey, pretty big secret you hid from me huh?”

His eyes opened fully at the sound of my voice, a wave of shock rolling over his face. He sat up, “(Y/n)? How’d you get here?” I smiled and pulled over the glass from his bedside, refilling it with water from my finger.

“Surprise, you’re not the only one hiding things.” Peter’s mouth fell open before laying back down, “My head hurts too much to handle this right now. You’re El, I’m Spider-man, we’ve been fighting crime together. That’s pretty cool.” His raspy voice said, a tiny smile appearing on his tired face. “Pretty wild indeed.” I agreed. “Well uh..I should um..probably go, you need rest after that.” I started to stand up, when I felt Peter’s soft hand grab mine.

“Stay, please?” He called out, a look of neediness in his eyes. I could never say no to him, with a face like that, how could I? I simply nodded and laid down next to him. Almost immediately, Peter pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me. I tucked my head under his chin and reveled in the warmth of him.

“You scared the hell out of me Peter. Like actually, I caused an earthquake, I think I almost lit Tony on fire, I was a mess. Don’t you dare do something stupid like that again!” I said, trying to keep myself level. I felt tears building in my eyes though. I couldn’t picture my life without Peter, and for once I had to really experience losing him.

I felt him laugh, and I smiled, glad to have Peter with me. I fiddled with the strings of my hoodie and looked up at him. “I’m serious! I would have to fight crime without you, and I’d never pass a chem test ever again, I would have to find a new crush and god knows that would take forever cause you’ve had my heart for far too long and oh my god I just said that out loud.”

I cut myself off, a look of terror coming over my face. I looked down at my hands, and then at the band-aid on Peter’s shoulder, basically anywhere except Peter’s face.

“Oh wait a second there.” Peter started saying, before sitting up carefully, I slowly followed suit, still avoiding eye contact. “Last part. Say it again.” I mumbled out the sentence, Peter’s eyes scanning my face while I spoke.

I looked up at Peter’s face, getting ready to do the typical ‘it’s fine ignore my feelings’ speech, when his hands grabbed my face softly and pulled me into a kiss. It was gentle and full of passion, making up for every kiss we could have had but were too scared to do, on the off chance that we messed anything up.

We pulled away, keeping our foreheads together, Peter’s hands still on my face. I smiled, locking eyes with Peter. “I..oh my god that really happened!” I whisper-screamed. Peter laughed and pulled me onto his lap, hugging me as close as he could. “I can’t imagine life without you, I really can’t. So please for the love of god say you’ll be mine because this is driving me nuts.” I giggled and pulled back to look at his face. “I’d be honored to be yours.”

We laid down again, talking about everything and anything, just at peace with being together, and official being together.

Glad I finally learned who was behind the mask.

[babyleclerc]

Much Too Much (Part I)

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader + AU where reader is Sebastian Stan’s little sister.

Style: Series (TBD how many parts)

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, swearing, angst, single motherhood.

Word Count: 1K

Summary: With big brother Sebastian Stan by your side, you never needed much else in life as you navigated raising your three-year-old son as a single mother. That is, until Chris Evans comes crashing into your world – bringing laughter and joy with him, but unknowingly digging up every secret you’d tried so hard to bury.

A/N: I’ve been mentioning how I’ve been wanting to write a series for FOREVER, and finally, yesterday in the shower, it clicked. I’ve got the perfect storyline, finally. :) Buckle up, folks, ‘cause this series is going to be a wild, angsty ride. I’m not sure how many parts this is going to have exactly, but I’m thinking at least four, maybe more. Before you guys ask: I’m aiming to post one chapter a week! This story, in all its angsty glory, is dedicated to my one and only @dolangram who is here for me unshakably – and who helped me bring this plot to life. ILY, my angel! <3

Life’s a funny thing, isn’t it? One day, you’re feeling young, unstoppable, ambitious – like the world is at your feet and ready for the taking. And the next? You suddenly wake up, not knowing how you got here and how life managed to take so many twists and turns and you feel like you were asleep at the wheel.

The twisted turn your life had taken was a blessing, yes. That much you had always known to be true. Pregnant at 28 years old hadn’t really been all that bad. At least not as bad as you had expected – the single mom, thing, however. Now that had been much trickier.

“Momma!”

Your son’s tiny little voice pulled you from your daydream and a small smile formed across your lips as your son bounced into your arms gleefully.

“Hi, buddy!” You said, squeezing him into a big hug. “How was your day?”

“Dood.” He responded. (That meant ‘good’, by the way. We’re still working on the ‘g’ sounds.)

“You hungry?” You asked, to which he nodded enthusiastically. “Perfect, then how about we go meet up with Uncle Sebastian for some dinner?”

Mason jumped up and down gleefully, “Uncer Sebby! Uncer Sebby! I just loooove pizza.” (Uncer in this case means ‘Uncle’. We’re working on those l’s, too.)

You laughed, taking his hand and walking him to the car. “Pizza it is then, sport.”

“So, how are things?” Sebastian asked, absentmindedly playing cars with Mason at the table while he made soft ‘vroom’ noises.

You raised your eyebrows at him, chewing on a piece of pizza. “You don’t have to ask it like that.”

“Like what?” He chuckled, taking a swig of beer.

“Like, ‘my little sister is so pathetic and I need to make her life perfect or I can’t rest until she’s happy’ sort of way.

Seb laughed, “I can’t help it, Y/N. You’re my little sister. I gotta make sure you’re OK. Otherwise what kinda big brother would I be?”

“The sane kind.” You teased, popping the remaining crust into your mouth. “Anyway, I’m fine.” You paused, watching your son attempt to shove his gigantic cheese pizza into his tiny three-year-old mouth. “Clearly, we’re fine.” You say, laughing and beginning to help him.

Sebastian sighed, but let the topic rest for now.

After Mason got bored with eating, you and Seb took him to the park to let out his last bit of energy before bedtime.

“He needs a father,” Seb said, watching as Mason tore down the slide gleefully.

You sighed, pulling your hair into a quick ponytail – a horrible, nervous habit you had picked up since you saw the strip turn pink. “Sebastian, can we not get into this tonight?”

“He’s already getting bigger and starting to ask questions.” Seb ignored your plea.

“I know that.”

“Have you tried dating?”

You scoffed, “Yes, because ‘single mom working horrible hours with three-year-old son in tow’ is such a catch.”

“And what about the Dad, again?”

“I’ve told you a million times – I don’t know anything about him. Drunken one night stand gone wrong, that’s all.” Your gut twisted slightly, that feeling you always got when you weren’t being entirely truthful with your big brother. You tried hard to ignore it, burying it down as deep as you could as you swallowed hard.

“See, you always say that but you have to remember something. Tall? Short? Fat? Mustache? Beard-”

“Sebastian,” You laid a hand on his shoulder, your eyes pleading with him. “Enough, okay? I’ve told you everything I remember. There’s nothing else to say. It happened, it’s over. I have Mason now, and he’s all that I need. I don’t need to go causing problems where there aren’t any. He’ll be okay.”

Sebastian frowned, the worry painted plainly across his face. “He needs a Dad, Y/N.” He whispered softly, watching as Mason gleefully sprinted across the playground, greeting every kid he passed with a high-pitched ‘hi!’ as he went along.

“He has you.” You replied, hoping to lighten the mood and flashing him a smile.

“It’s not enough.” He responded sadly, “It breaks my heart to think that his Dad is out there, somewhere, and knows about him but just doesn’t care. How could you just not care about that little guy?”

You smiled and followed Seb’s gaze, where Mason was happily trampling over some sand castles he had built in the sandbox. “You’re a little biased,” You say, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “You are his Uncle, after all.”

Sebastian smiled slightly, and shook his head, “No, I’d love him even if he wasn’t blood-related. He’s a good kid.”

And that he was. You sighed once more before calling Mason over to you both and leaving the park to head home. Sebastian’s comments still swirled in your mind late into the night – long after Mason had fallen asleep.

Life’s a funny thing, isn’t it?

End of Part I.

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