#with an unwanted third wheel unfortunately

[fanfictionsrookie]

[housederiva]

I feel like bioware wrote the romance between companions as canon and Rook is just an afterthought. (Except when romancing Emmrich and Davrin). I was romancing Lucanis and Neve and Lucanis kept flirting. It felt like my Rook was an unwanted third wheel. There is more content (including banter) for Neve and Lucanis than For either Rook and Lucanis or Neve and Rook. I really don't think bioware gave a shit about this game.

I had him flirt with her still during my first run too and I assumed it was a bug where his romance didn’t get triggered and I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you were right about the both of them having more content with each other unfortunately

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Manhwa Rec: Inso’s Law

My obsession of about a year now, Inso’s Law is a manhwa I stumbled on accidentally on mangahere and I’m here for the ride. Unfortunately, I’m literally the only person in my group of friends that reads it. And since I’m desperate to try and convince people to check it out one way or another, I’ve decided the only thing I can do is make a long post about it because I suck at making slideshows. 

So please, sit back and relax, and enjoy my manhwa recommendation of

Why You Definitely Should (only if you want to but please I need someone to talk to) Read

인소의 법칙: Inso’s Law

The plot as it goes follows:

One day, without any explanation or strange phenomenon, Ham Dan-i wakes up to find her life has turned upside down.

Her new uniform her mother bought only days prior is a completely different design that neither of her parents are questioning. The neighbor next door is a beautiful girl she’s never met claiming to be her best friend since birth.

Even more odd? The school she enrolled in no longer exists, replaced by a complete different one altogether. And just when she thinks this day can’t get any crazier, Dan-i stumbles onto what can only be described an episode 1 exposition dump about the school’s hottest boys everyone calls The Four Heavenly Kings.

With no other explanation, Dan-i is forced to accept her new reality. Somehow, Dan-i’s been isekai’d into a universe that runs on the rules of a manhwaー complete with all the ridiculous and dangerous tropes that come along with it. But the cherry on top of this unwanted sundae? 

Dan-i quickly learns that her role in this novel is that of the Side Character. Specifically, the female lead’s childhood best friend. And no matter what she does to distance herself from her new fate of being the third wheel to her new best friend Yeoryeong’s love life, it’s a ride Dan-i is going to have to take. Willingly or otherwise.

But if the plot alone isn’t enough to grab you, I do have several other reasons for you to consider.

1) Comedic genius

From the extreme lengths Ji-ho will go to present himself as the perfect boy in front of Dan-i’s friends only to laugh his ass off at her misery the moment they turn around to Dan-i’s deadpan reaction to Yeoryeong complaining about someone potentially having dyed blonde hair when the vast majority of their friends have red or silver hair.

Inso’s Law is comedic gold.

While a good chunk of the comedy stems from poking fun at genre-specific tropes (ex. the male lead telling the crying protagonist that he’ll give her ten seconds to cry), the vast majority comes from the casts’ chemistry and banter with one another. 

2) The characters

Whether it’s a manhwa or old shoujo anime/manga, we all know the tropes associated with them.

Over-the-top bullying, 

Blackmailing plots, 

Full-blooded Koreans with hair straight out of an anime,

Kidnapping or bribery in extreme casesー 

regardless of the trope, Dan-i’s seen it all in the many manhwas she’s read over the years.

As such, when our story begins, she is all too happy to try and distance herself from our central five characters to avoid being mixed up the whole mess. In spite of her efforts, however, Dan-i unwittingly finds herself wrapped right up tight in the friend group of that is our Female Lead and Four Heavenly Kings. All of which represent some sort of trope you’ve all likely seen if you’re a fan of these types of series.

And while there are lots of great characters in this series, I’ll limit myself to talking about our leads.

Ham Dan-i ・함단이: Female Lead’s Best Friend

Our isekai’d protagonist who has been tossed into the position of ‘side character’. But like most isekai protags, Dan-i would rather not be in the world she’s found herself in because as she words it ‘I have common sense and can take care of myself’. Keeping the facts of this reality to herself, Dan-i struggles with genuinely caring for her new group of friends and the fact she doesn’t belong in this world. That aside, she’s often tired by the shenanigans she now gets involved in because of said friends.

Ban Yeoryeong・반여령: The Female Lead

Exceedingly beautiful, athletic, intelligent, and takes shit from no man- Yeoryeong is the web novel’s female lead and Dan-i’s apparent childhood friend. Unaware of this merge of realities, Yeoryeong adores Dan-i endlessly and in her eyes, Dan-i can do no wrong. Honestly, if the genre of this manhwa was changed to wlw, Yeoryeong would have no problem and would happily propose.

Eun Ji-ho ・은지호: The Snobby Love Interest

A much more turned down version of characters like Tsukasa from Boys Over Flower/Hana Yori Dango, Ji-ho is still the snobby rich kid love interest. His first interaction with Yeoryeong where he found out she beat his score on an exam, he told her he’d best her the next time. He’s snarky, competitive, but even if he’s a tease he has his friends’ collective back and doesn’t cross their boundaries.

Yoo Chun-young ・유천영: The Stoic & Quiet Love Interest

That guy who never talks to anyone and keeps to himself trope. His smile? Only reserved for the heroine or even small animals. Bonus: he’s a model, one with sweet abs that even Dan-i appreciates. But in reality, Chun-young dislikes the expectations set on him by his classmates due to their preconceived notions of him and would rather nap in the back of class while listening to Linkin Park. 

Kwon Eun-hyung ・권은형: The Calm & Mature Love Interest

The designated mom friend guy, who is all calm smiles and is the one everyone goes to for advice. Honestly, he’s as patient as a saint and he cares deeply about the people he loves. Give him one reason though and he won’t hesitate to swing whether he’s going up against one guy or five. Eun-hyung’s a brawler underneath his Makoto Tachibana-esque smile and he’s a master of the death stare.

Woo Ju-in ・우주인: The Cutesy & Smiley Love Interest

Nagisa Hazuki but if he dyed his hair to a light brown and got some contacts. Ju-in is the energetic oddball of the group who dances to the beat of his own drum. A genius with a photographic memory who’ll fail tests on purpose sometimes just for shits and giggles. But underneath that smile belies a more observant nature than he lets on. He’s also Ji-ho’s childhood pal.

In spite of the tropes they all represent, the main cast of Inso’s Law feel like real people and a real group of friends at that. If you’re a fan of tropey manhwas or romance anime, you’ll be right there with Dan-i going ‘oh shit, it’s that trope’. See Ji-ho laughing his ass off at Dan-i’s superficial suffering but coming through when he knows he’s seriously upset, you’ll definitely nod to yourself ‘now this is friendship’.

The dynamic they all have as the leads to the story is definitely one of the best things about it. Speaking of dynamics, Inso’s Law also has,

3) A healthy balance of romance and platonic relationships

A romance-comedy Inso’s Law may be, but it doesn’t neglect the platonic opposite gender friendships for it. Dan-i forms friendships with many male characters and the majority of them are completely platonic. 

Even characters with romantic feelings for another will put their friendship first. There’s no ulterior motives in their interactions thinking ‘oh if I do this, they’ll like me’ guiding their actions, they’re doing it because they’re friends first and foremost and want the best for them. 

Honest conversations about things that make them uncomfortable or a talk on how no matter how many fakes you come across your true friends will stick with you no matter what. Within and out of our main group of characters, you’ll see this across the board and it’s pretty refreshing since most of the time platonic relationships are barely shown if romance is the main aspect of the show.

So there’s something for everybody, not just diehard romance fans.

4) I am desperate

It’s the way I need someone to talk to about everything that’s happened thus far whether it be in the DMs or ask box. Help a sister out.

That’s all I got in terms of reasons to check this series out. It’s a fun read with a lot to keep you reading and currently ongoing! And with Attack on Titan going on break until part 87 comes out in 2045 and waiting for the return of Jujutsu Kaisen season 2 (or if you are a manga reader like me constantly in pain because X just died. Great), maybe some people who follow me can check out Inso’s Law as a light and fun series to perk them up in the midst of all their favorite characters dying.

Just definitely let me know if you check it out, I’d love to talk about it!

[justacomedy-archived]

Penny really is the unwanted third wheel in Arthur’s romantic relationships. If your muse is dating him, his mom is unfortunately a heavy part of the package and it is not a good thing.

She doesn’t want his attention taken away from her- she will lather your muse with kindness but when they aren’t around, she is trying to convince Arthur that he’s better off alone. That she is all he needs. That they are using him and that he’s a temporary fling before they find someone more successful. Better. She tries to convince him that they will hurt him and he, unfortunately starts to believe her.

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 6 - Miraculous Abuse

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4: A Thank You

Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations

Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse

If Adrien had avoided using the snake before, he now was operating on the other extreme. Ladybug had told him to abuse it, and he’s not sure she would have meant it quite so literally, but well… he and Nino had come up with a list. 

It had started with his homework. If he could finish his homework in far less time, he’d  have more time to visit Nino and Marinette. Not that it took a lot of time to visit Marinette as it was usually a loop, so even if he spent hours with her, it never took longer than ten minutes as far as the rest of the world was concerned. 

He unfortunately couldn’t do all of his homework in a time loop because that would leave whatever he had completed in the last five minutes erased. But he could do all the reading, researching, planning, and studying in a loop. Anything that didn’t require him to write anything down. 

Nathalie had only walked on him transformed once. 

“Yes, Nathalie?” he had asked, without looking up from his textbook. He hadn’t even thought about it. 

She stood stock still and was dead silent. He glanced towards her with a frown - her eyes were comically wide, but that was the only sign that she was shocked. He glanced down, and remembered he was transformed at Aspik. 

Read on Ao3

“Oh shit!” 

But it had been easy enough to fix. He just reset, destranformed, waited for Nathalie to come in and deliver his schedule changes for the week and leave, and then he transformed again. 

And then Nino had realized if he could pack all of his studying into the space of five minutes, Adrien could surely squeeze in some well deserved leisure time as well. 

It only took 71 loops to read a hundred thousand words, and Adrien had long ago discovered the joys of fanfiction, but he had never really had time to read more than a bit here or there. Now? With unlimited time and an entire endless library of things to read based on his favorite games and anime? Let’s just say his current power set brought a whole new meaning to the phrase, “Just One More Chapter.” 

And a season of anime was only 119 loops. Hell, he had gotten through all 981 episodes of One Piece in 4532 loops, which was still nothing compared to his time as Aspik, and honestly, far less traumatizing. 

He had felt slightly guilty about it. He was literally using the powers of time travel to watch anime. 

But when he mentioned it to Nino, his friend had just rolled his eyes. “Dude! You’re thinking about this all wrong. You’re a hero and we need you to be okay. This is about avoiding burnout as much as it is about having a good time. It’s so you get enough of a break and enough sleep to be a competent hero that we all need!”

But eventually the stories and shows hadn’t been enough to hold his attention. And he took another of Nino’s ideas and started paying visits to several of his friends. 

He had gone to Kagami first. He had no expectations of healing things with her, but he had always wanted to be able to explain so that his apologies might mean something.

“Chat Noir? Is there an akuma?” she asked by way of greeting. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Ah, no. I wanted to talk to you about something, but I also have to erase your memory after the fact to protect identities. Are you okay with that?”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “You have piqued my curiosity. You may proceed.” 

He nodded. He had already activated his power before he had landed in her bedroom that was definitely as lavish as his own if not quite as spacious. 

“So… more than anything I wanted to apologize to you?”

She frowned. “I’m unaware of anything that you have done that would require an apology.”

“Kagami, I’m Adrien.”

Her eyes went wide for a second. “Ah, I see.” Then, she nodded. 

“That’s it?” 

“No, it makes a lot of sense.” And then she did something he never would have expected. She smiled. And most of his tension released. 

“I just wanted to explain now that I had the ability to. That I wasn’t ever lying to you or running from our dates because I wanted to.” 

“You had to sacrifice your own desires for a higher calling.”

“Yeah, that’s it exactly.”

She smiled at him again. “I appreciate you coming to explain and I understand completely why I can’t remember. May I ask you a question?” 

“Of course!” 

“Were you never in love with Marinette?”

“Well, I… uh… it was hard to see Marinette when I was completely enamored with Ladybug, but…”

She shook her head. “Are you in love with both of them now?” 

“I mean, sortve?” He knew Kagami hated when he ended every sentence as if it was a question. “They’re the same person.”

Kagami sighed. “How disappointing.” 

“Disappointing?! She’s amazing!” 

“I know, but if she’s Ladybug and you’re Chat Noir, I have never had a chance with either of you.” 

He felt like he had been thrown off a cliff. “What? You had feelings for Marinette?” 

She grinned. “Well, she is amazing, as you always say. At least I know that I have really good taste.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have ruined all your prospects.” 

“I will survive. Neither of you define me as a person.” 

“You’re pretty amazing, too, you know,” he told her sincerely. 

She nodded. “You honor me.” 

He laughed. “Kagami, please don’t get all formal on me. I’m still just me.” 

“Well, I hope you know that I appreciate all that you and Ladybug do for the city,” Kagami told him, ignoring his request.

“Thank you, Kagami. That means a lot coming from you.” 

She nodded in acknowledgment and he knew he was being dismissed, and then he slid the switch on his bracelet and he was on the roof of her family’s manor once again his heart a little lighter.

He had gone to Alya after that. He had been nervous since she was the one who tended to push him aside as Chat Noir. But his fears proved to be completely unfounded as for the most part she could never stop laughing whenever he revealed himself.

“Wait! You’re Adrien?!”

She burst into cackles immediately. 

“Why is that so funny?!” He has demanded the first time. 

She had just grinned, shaking her head and still chuckling. “I wish I could explain it to you, sunshine.” 

“I already know Marinette is Ladybug,” he said.

“Oh good! Then I don’t have to be panicked about accidentally slipping!” And she went back to rolling on the floor laughing. 

“You wouldn’t happen to already know Marinette’s other secret would you?” she asked.

His eyebrows scrunched together under his mask. “Umm… that she’s in love with me as Adrien?” 

Her face lit up. “Oh see!! You do get it!” 

He shook his head. “I do not get it.” 

“The two of you managed to get yourself in a love square. You’ve been chasing each other around like two cute little hamsters in hamster balls.” 

He sighed, far less amused than Alya at the current state of his Marinette’s relationship. “I’m really glad someone is getting some joy out of this.” 

“Hey!” she objected. “I’m only going to know this for another three minutes! Let me have my fun!”

He held up his hands in surrender, and he was smiling in spite of himself. Maybe some time in the future, after he and Marinette could be together, it would be funny to him, too.

“God! This is why it feels like I’m third-wheeling during akuma fights,” she exclaimed.

“You feel like a third wheel?!” he repeated in disbelief. “Have you seen the chaotic energy that is you and Marinette coming up with a plan together? I am definitely the third wheel in that situation.”

And then she was cackling again. “I’m sorry,” she wheezed. “Nino says I can be a bit of a bulldozer when I’m trying to find a solution to something.” 

“That’s putting it mildly,” he said dryly.

All the mirth fled her face and she looked at him in concern. “Hey, you okay?”

He nodded. “It’s not like I’m allowed to be anything else.” 

“No, don’t say that! You’re allowed to be upset with me! I deserve it sometimes.”

He shook his head. “I’m never going to hold your ability to defeat an akuma against you. I just… have felt a little unneeded lately,” he admitted.

She stared at him for a second and then she burst into laughter again. 

And despite still not getting it, he found himself chuckling, too. Her laughter was just that infectious. “Why do you find this so funny?” he asked. 

“Because you’re a literal superhero and a model with more money than god, and a heart of absolute gold. You work with her as Ladybug so well I have to deal with crazy conspiracy theorists on the Ladyblog  who think the two of you must be telepathic aliens!” 

“What? People don’t think that.” 

“They do! And it’s annoying. But my point is you’re the real deal, Agreste, and she’s crazy about you, and you know it, and yet you still manage to doubt yourself.” 

“I’m glad my struggles and hang ups are so amusing to you,” he said with a pout. 

She sat up and fist bumped his shoulder. “Aww! Sunshine! I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, your insecurity makes you seem sweeter and cuter. And it makes you seem more human. I don’t mean to mock you in any way.”

He searched her face and only found open sincerity.

“Thanks, Alya.” 

“So, does she know that you know?” 

“I mean, she doesn’t right now. But I’ve told her. Many many times, but it was just like this and she doesn’t remember.” 

She softened. “That sounds difficult.” 

“It’s apparently better than the alternative,” he said, going for nonchalance, but he didn’t fool her if her scooching to sit right next to him was anything to go by.  

“I wish we could all fix it for you, Adrien.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“How are you?” 

He shrugged. “I’m okay at the moment. Some days are worse than others. Nino… Nino has been a godsend.” 

She smiled. “He is pretty amazing. He knows outside of a loop?” 

“He does.” 

“I’m glad you have that, Adrien. Marinette was falling apart at the seams before she told me.” 

“Does he know about Marinette?” Adrien asked. Sometimes, it seemed like Nino knew more than he was letting on. But maybe his friend was just really respectful of secrets and didn’t ask questions.

“Not from me! And he hasn’t told me about you being Chat Noir either.” 

Adrien glanced toward the window. 

“Does it bother you that there are secrets between the two of you?” he finally asked.

“No, not these ones. They’re not our secrets. They’re yours, and they’re Marinette’s, so they’re not ours to share.”

“I'm jealous,” he admitted.

She offered him a sympathetic smile. “Someday, you won’t have to be anymore.”

The Snake beeped it’s first warning. “Time’s just about up.”

She offered him a fist bump and then a hug. He reciprocated both. “I’m glad you stopped by, Sunshine. You’re always welcome any time you think my particular brand of company is something that would help you.” 

He grinned. “Thank you, Alya.” 

“I look forward to the day when all four of us can just be open about everything,” she said. 

He snorted. “You and me both.” 

His went to his bodyguard next. 

“I just wanted to apologize to you for always running off. I don’t mean to make your job harder or get you into trouble. I am literally running away to save the city.”

His bodyguard didn’t say anything. He never said anything. He had just let out a resigned sigh and then patted Adrien’s shoulder. 

Adrien took that as forgiveness and reset the loop. There was no sense in sitting there in awkward silence for another four and a half minutes. 

When he had told Nathalie one afternoon at her desk outside her office, she looked horrified - frozen as still as a statue trapped in Medusa’s gaze. 

“Nathalie?” 

“I… all this time?” she whispered.

“Yeah. I know it’s a lot. I know it causes you a bit of grief when I disappear.” 

She waved away his concern. “Right now, we’re in some kind of time loop and I won’t remember?” 

“But you will,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” he confirmed anyway. 

“Adrien, I need you to listen to me.”

He nodded. 

“I can never find out. Your father can’t either. If you need something because you’re hurt or cornered, or…” she trailed off.

Was she crying? 

She cleared her throat. 

“Go to your friends. Their parents. Just… not your father, okay? Or me, because I’d have to inform him.”

His brows furrowed together in confusion. “Okay?” It wasn’t hard to to agree despite how weird she was being. He knew Paris needed him and he also knew that his father would never let him continue. Especially if he was seeking help due to an injury or something.

That’s what Nathalie was referring to, right? 

She patted him on the shoulder. It was even more awkward than when his bodyguard had done it. 

“Adrien, you’re quite impressive as a hero.” 

“Thank you,” he said with a smile.

And then there was Marinette. He had learned that it was impossible to tell her he was Adrien without making her cry, which was frustrating because she was also so much more open and affectionate once she knew. 

“How do I get you to not breakdown when I tell you this?” he asked her seriously.

She laughed through her tears. “I’m sorry, kitty. I have no idea. It’s just… it’s not fair.” 

He smiled. “That’s what Ladybug always says,” he told her casually. She didn’t know that he knew this go around.

“She’s right! You deserve so much, and life… it’s not fair!”

He turned to her seriously. “I don’t need life to be fair, Mari. I just… don’t want to have to wear a mask all the time.” And then he smiled. “I’m glad that you’re okay with me doing this.” 

She nodded tearfully. “Anytime, Kitty. Anytime.”  

Then during a regular patrol at one point. He had just realized he wanted to make her laugh. So he spent another few hundred loops figuring out which jokes made her laugh the hardest and which ones were absolute duds. Then, on a day when she was having a hard time, he showed up on her balcony and gave her the best one hour comedy of her life. 

Her unrestrained laughter was so explosive she had literally fallen out of her chair. Totally worth it. 

“Thank you, kitty,” she said wiping the tears induced by her laughter. “You have no idea how much I needed this.” 

He hadn’t argued. “Of course, princess. I am always at your service!”

Then, he started working on the perfect confession. He was trying to see if he could get her to kiss him as Chat Noir without revealing his identity because, you know, that always made her cry. 

“Can I use the snake to ask you a very important question?” He has asked Ladybug on patrol. 

She nodded, and he activated it. 

“What do you think it would take to get you to kiss me?” 

She laughed. “Are you serious right now? That is your very important question?” 

“It is,” he nodded, but offered her a huge grin so she could take it as a joke if she wanted.

“Why? You haven’t been able to be successful yet?” she teased.

“Oh no! I’ve been super successful. All I really have to do is tell you my name.”

She scoffed.

“No, I’m serious!” he boasted with a huge grin splitting his face knowing she only half believed him.

“So, why don’t you just do that?” she asked seriously. 

“Because you always cry! And I don’t want to kiss away your tears. I want to make you smile.” 

She got quiet. “You know, we can’t be together right?” 

“Yeah Marinette,” he whispered. “I know that really well.”

 It was silent.

“How long have you known?” she asked softly.

He had no idea how to answer that question. Because time was now very weird for him. In one sense he had only known for a few weeks, on the other he had literally spent so much time in loops that it had to have been at least twice that at this point. Maybe more.

“A while,” he said. “But we’ve already talked about that to death. I’d much rather figure out how to get you to fall desperately in love with this half of me.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “You want me to fall desperately in love with you in five minutes?” 

He shrugged. “We have a solid foundation of trust and friendship. I’m not starting from nothing. Plus, I’ve fallen in love in less than five minutes before.” With her. He didn’t think he needed to say that though.  

She actually smiled. “Yeah, I’ve fallen in love pretty fast before, too.” 

And it occurred to him that he had no idea what had made her fall in love with Adrien. He probably could ask her, but that was one more memory that he wanted her to remember having told him. 

He could probably just show up on her balcony as regular old Chat Noir and just say something like, “So, Adrien Agreste, huh?” She’d probably tell him, and she’d even remember it. But she wouldn’t know that it was him she was telling. 

How the hell had his life gotten so complicated? 

“There’s no way I would start crying just from knowing your name though,” she said. “You have to be making that up.”

He just turned to her and raised his eyebrows. 

The expression probably didn’t work as well with his transformation covering them. 

But she still hesitated. “There’s no way!” she exclaimed, but then she got a thoughtful look in her eyes. “Unless…” 

And then her eyes started welling with tears.

And he almost laughed. But he managed to hold it back.

“Oh, come here, bug,” he said instead, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her to him. And he just held her as she shook silently. 

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. 

“I know,” he said, and then kissed the top of her head. “I know.”

“Do you see my problem now?” he said after another pause. 

And she laughed through her tears, which had been his intention, and he smiled.

She pulled away. “I’ve thought about it before, you know.”

“Thought about what?”

“Letting myself fall for Chat Noir?”

He hugged her tighter. “Yeah?” 

“It never seemed like it would be that hard. I think if it hadn’t been for Chat Blanc, it would have happened after New York.”

He laughed. “Really? New York was when I thought maybe I should ask out Marinette.” 

She looked up at him in horror. “Oh my god! We’re just perpetually screwed, aren’t we? We’re just going to keep missing each other over and over!”

He kissed her hand. “No m’lady,” he assured. “That can’t happen because now I know, and I can’t forget.” 

And then she was crying again, harder. “I don’t want to forget either.”

“I know,” he told her, kissing her hand again. “I promise it won’t be forever.” 

“I love you, Adrien.” 

“I love you, too.”

And that time, of the two of them, it was he who was stronger and able to slide his fingers across the reset. 

And he might have stayed in that loop far longer than he should have trying to figure out the way to the heart he had apparently already won.

He learned that she did enjoy his flirting whatever she said to the contrary, but the moments where he was vulnerable and genuine were the ones that seemed to move her the most.

But none of it was quite enough. If he wanted a kiss, he always had to tell her his name. 

But despite his failure, pulling himself out of that loop was the hardest thing he had ever done.

And that’s how he knew he was in trouble. 

… 

“Nino, you have to take this away from me,” Adrien said, holding out the snake miraculous. He had just arrived and released both his transformations. 

Nino took it, his eyebrows pinched together. “What? Why?” 

“Because I’m scared I’m going to go into a loop and I’m never going to come out of it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Look! Being here with you, with you knowing everything, is amazing. It’s the only time I feel like myself, unless,” he held up the bracelet, “I’m using this and… it’s getting harder to pull myself out of the loops.” 

“Your visits to Ladybug?” 

“Yeah,” Adrien admitted. “She told me to go every single day so I would remember what it was like to be loved,” he paused for a second, trying to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. “The problem is I really really like being loved.” 

And then he couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. 

Nino pulled him by the arm down to the ground and sat right next to him shoulder to shoulder.

Adrien buried his face in his hands. 

“For the record, dude,” Nino whispered. “You are loved even outside a loop with Ladybug.” 

Adrien threw his arms around Nino. “I honestly don’t know why you put up with me at this point. I feel like you have to put up with a lot.”

Nino grinned. “Hey! I happen to like hanging out with you! This shift has been awesome because I get to see you way more often.” 

“And I’m not like messing up date night with Alya or anything, am I?” 

“Nah!” Nino waves away his concern. “Alya and I hangout in the mornings and during lunch. Lately Marinette has monopolized her evenings.” 

Adrien managed to keep a straight face at that. “If you and her ever do need a day away from the children, I’m sure Marinette and I can figure out a way to take care of ourselves for a day.” 

Nino burst out laughing. 

“What?! I’m a big boy and Marientte’s a big girl. We can take care of ourselves.” 

Nino just shook his head, still snickering. 

“Maybe all four of us could do something some time,” Nino suggested, his eyes sparkling.

Adrien narrowed his eyes. Did Nino know? He knew he couldn’t ask without giving it away, and he had just handed over the snake. 

“That sounds really nice,” Adrien said, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle going on a double date that he had to pretend wasn’t a double date. But someday. 

He wanted to cry again, but his eyes remained dry. 

“So, you just want me to keep it?” Nino asked, holding up the bracelet. “Should I hide it here in the room? Or wear it?” 

“Wear it,” Adrien said. That was the only way Nino would know where it was at all times. “But don’t use it. Not even for an akuma.”

He didn’t want Nino to ever experience a loop on the battlefield. Not if he could help it. 

“I reserve the right to come save your ass if necessary,” Nino said as he slipped the miraculous around his wrist. 

Adrien laughed. “Okay, but please don’t unless you absolutely have to. I don’t need Ladybug pissed at me for giving away a miraculous.” 

Nino frowned at him then. “Why are you giving this to me, instead of back to her?” 

Adrien’s answer to that was complicated. Partly because he didn’t want Marinette to know that his loops with her were hurting him even as they gave him hope, and he definitely didn’t want her to know that he had fallen to the point of being borderline addicted. 

But there was also a strategic element to his choice. He could approach Nino in either form, and Nino would know to trust him. 

“You know who I am,” Adrien finally said. 

“Will you be okay without it?” Nino asked.

Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’m definitely not okay with it right now.” He paused, then looked at Nino. “I might be texting and calling you a lot over the next few days.” 

Nino laughed. “I can’t promise to answer right away all the time, but you can always do that, man. Always.” 

Adrien let his head fall onto Nino’s shoulder. “Have I ever told you that you’re the absolute best?” 

“I could stand to hear it a few more times,” Nino said. 

Adrien grinned. “Noted.”

…

Chapter 7: The Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

[desdemonafictional]

Tarnma, “Don’t cry. I promise I will love you and protect you to the best of my ability, til death do we part.” please?

(I spent more time on this one than any of the others, I think ^^; )

In Pharma’s defense, it had been in the drunken aftermath of his third breakup with Ratchet, and the only thing on his mind had been the half-crazed conviction that he would never again subject himself to the idea of being another mech’s secondary. If Ratchet wouldn’t have him, after he’d swallowed down his ego mouthful after mouthful for so many years, just waiting to become the prize that Ratchet never seemed to want--well, to hell with the whole institution, Pharma wouldn’t be anybody’s second.

He put in his application to the arrangement firm as a Primary Conjunx, hit send, and passed out several hours later in a haze of engex.

A month later he’d been presented with the saddest little empuratee on Cybertron, all haunting single optic and clumsy tapping talons.

Pharma whirled on the matchmaker. “What is the meaning of this! I asked you for a secondary and you brought me junk!”

“Doctor,” the matchmaker said, clearly disapproving of the outburst. “Damus is a rare outlier, and has brilliant test scores at Shockwave’s Academy. He’s young, willing, and perfectly fertile despite the unfortunate, hem, adjustments. He’s also a very talented musician, aren’t you, Damus?”

“Yes,” Damus said, very softly. He had a surprisingly deep voice for such a little creature.

“Well there you have it,” the matchmaker said. “Everything you asked for. Culture, intelligence, and submissive temperament.”

“He’s a criminal!” Pharma said, throwing his palm wildly in the smaller mech’s direction. “Think of my career! I’ll look like some kind of--of--”

“We do have other candidates,” the matchmaker said, sighing to himself. “Give me a moment, I have to speak to my secretary…”

He turned and let himself back out the front door, taking a turn toward the garden that Pharma shared with his nearest neighbors. Pharma grimaced at the would-be conjunx in his living room. It wasn’t that Damus was entirely ugly, if you got past the empurata. Pharma did like wheeled vehicles. And he was a good height, not taller than Pharma, but not too small.

“So what did you do,” Pharma asked (very rudely, but he was in a bad temper). “You’re not a murderer, are you?”

“No,” Damus said. “It was for sedition. I was caught at a protest.”

“Really,” Pharma said. He considered it. Ratchet’s clinic was borderline seditious anyway, so it wasn’t as if Pharma had it in him to be particularly shocked about the existence of civil unrest. “Well,” he decided, “That’s alright then. As long as I’m not about to be stabbed in my sleep.”

Damus made a sound somewhere between a buzz and a laugh. He seemed tired. “No wonder no one wants me,” he said, “if that’s what you’re all thinking.”

“...I suppose you��ve been given the run around with a few before me,” Pharma said, feeling an unwanted pang of unhappiness, or sympathy, or something.

“Seven,” Damus said, with dark humor.

“Seven,” Pharma said, and then felt annoyed at himself for being surprised. He hadn’t wanted Damus, so why should he be surprised no one else did? But Damus seemed charming enough in his own way, unlinking single optic aside. Pharma switched tracks. “Why do you even want a conjunx, anyway? It’s not exactly suited to the life of a lone rebel.”

Damus looked at him for a silent moment, and then turned his head to the window. “I don’t know that you’d understand,” he said. “Your home is beautiful, your job is prestigious, you have enough career to be worried about it--I’m not sure you could understand what it would mean for me, doctor.”

“Try me,” Pharma said, impatiently doubling down.

“I guess I’d just like to feel…” Damus went over to the window. “Safe, again. Like I belong somewhere.”

Pharma stared at his back for a long stretch of silence. Outside, the wind ruffled a set of hanging chimes.

“Alright,” the matchmaker said, bustling back in with a ‘pad in his hand, “if you want to see the other options, or defer--”

“No,” Pharma said, suddenly, “let’s give this a try, I think. You have trial periods?”

“Oh,” the matchmaker said, and then hurriedly, very enthusiastically, “yes, yes, the handfasting period is already built into your contract with us if you’d like to utilize it--”

So Damus moved in. Pharma was irritable and techy about the whole thing, about which things were to be placed in what spots, but Damus didn’t have so many things of his own and really it was just a matter of berating the mover bots until they did as Pharma wanted.

The first night was. Strange. Damus very politely waited in the doorway of the berthroom until Pharma--equally nervous and trying not to show it--snapped at him to come lay down already, the morning alarm wasn’t getting any farther away. In the dark, their frames several inches apart, Pharma watched Damus’s hands lift, and flinch, and fall back silently to the berth.

There were meals. Pharma had shifts. The novelty of coming home to someone who was waiting for him, wanting to know about his day, was intoxicating. Damus had any number of passionate opinions on any number of subjects, and would happily make them known at length over the complicated spread of fuels he’d put together for Pharma’s evening return. He soaked up information like a sponge too--any obscure medical treatise or bit of gossip Pharma brought home was eagerly considered and dismantled.

But still… they did not, actually, touch each other.

Pharma thought about it. Most nights. Sometimes during the day. He wondered how far Damus would let him go. He wondered what Damus would look like, pressed down into the pillows, helplessly wriggling on Pharma’s spike. The allure of it spun Pharma’s head around with unease and confusion--no one fantasized about empuratee frames except the worst kind of fetishists, the lowest of the low, and Pharma hated to think he might be one of those, the type that wanted muck and dirt and crying.

Damus went sometimes to see friends, and was out long late nights, in which Pharma lay curled on the berth that was really built for one and felt terribly, horribly hollow. He did not actually have friends, he had realized. There had only ever been Ratchet.

The handfasting period dwindled to its appointed end. They were only a few dozen days away from the end of it when the news came, screaming neon light on the billboard in the quarter square which stopped Pharma dead in his tracks as he made his way home from the hospital--Senator Shockwave, missing, found finally with his frame mutilated by unknown assailants. They flashed the picture. The glaring yellow optic in the expressionless helm, so like Damus’s, made him almost sick in the street.

He transformed and flew home, heedless of sky laws. Clouds whipped past, stream of ice bit his nosecone. He let himself into the house without knocking, door shoved aside, and it was only when he found himself face to not-face with Damus in the metal that he realized what he had been afraid of. But Damus was fine. Physically, anyway. If he’d been crying, it was impossible for anyone to tell.

“I,” Pharma said, and then had no idea how to finish. He felt naked, like armor stripped to protoform.

“So you saw,” Damus said, in a very even, very reasoned voice, and then abruptly spoiled it by making a horrible grizzled sobbing sound down deep in his throat. The overhead lights flashed and popped, spraying glass over their helms.

Pharma discarded reservations entirely. He surged forward, cupping the blazing monstrous helm in both hands as gently as he could, and said, “Damus, my darling, you’re safe here. There’s no safer place in the world than here with me.”

“I’d love to believe that,” Damus managed. The voice came out busted and hazed with static, each syllable like a horrible little scratch against Pharma’s spark. “But Shockwave, he was our--Shockwave is a senator, if he--”

Pharma pulled the smaller body against his own, mouth a thin line, the back of Damus’s helm cupped in his palm. His visions, in that moment, were grim and bloody. 

He was the primary. It was his job to make sure that Damus was cared for, safe, that nothing in the world touched him. 

“Don’t cry, Damus,” Pharma said, “your conjunx is here.”

His thumb stroked the curve of Damus’s helm, absently tender, as a thousand vicious certainties flashed behind his eyes. In that moment, career and politics were the furthest they had ever been from Pharma’s mind.

“I promise I will love you and protect you to the best of my ability,” he said. “Til death do we part.”

[daydreamingatnight209]

Okay I’m nervous to post this one as I’m not sure about it but I hope you all like it. I’ve combined two ideas in this. One from @rumplebutterbitch who’s anon sent the concept and allowed me to write it and a concept from @andreasworlsboring101 who suggested I do the “I’m a celebrity but you don’t know that” AU.

Could all please check out my recent post as well if you would like to be added to my tag list.

Please let me know what you all think! Feedback is always welcome! ✨💞

“I Hope to See You Soon”

Matthew Gray Gubler x Female Reader

Warnings - None, Fluff 💕

———————————

You often got unwanted attention when out at night with friends. You had gotten pretty good at escaping the situations but that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating.

All you wanted was to have a couple of drinks and a laugh with your friends you met through your work as a writer.

Tonight was one of those nights. You’d spent the last 3 weeks continuously starting at your laptop screen, editing the final draft of your second novel before sending it to the publishers, so when your best friend offered to buy you a drink you didn’t refuse.

Unfortunately for you, she ended up meeting up with her boyfriend half way through the night, leaving you to third wheel.

The cycle begun and it was driving you insane.

Why couldn’t people just let you drink in peace?

This one particular man wasn’t giving up, following you from the bar to your table. You had already told him you wasn’t interested but it was like he hadn’t heard you.

You were jolted from your thoughts when an arm wraps itself around you and a kiss is planted on your cheek.

“Sorry I took so long on the phone baby, are you alright? This man, is it he bothering you?”

You did your best to hide the deep relief that you felt, for once a man wanted to help you, not hit on you. You melt in his arms, making it more believable for the creep before you.

He finally got the message and left you alone.

You turn to the mysterious, handsome stranger and give him your thanks.

He gives you a shining smile in return and introduces himself.

“It was no problem, I saw that he wouldn’t leave you alone. I’m Matthew by the way”

“I’m Y/N” you smile and take in his features.

He was tall, at least 6 foot, had a small amount of stubble and the most amazing warm eyes. His hair was medium length, his curls wild.

“Hey, would you like to come and sit with me and my friends?” He asks you, after a short silence.

You glance over at your friend who was still with her lover, engrossed in conversation.

“Erm, yeah sure. Let me just go and let my friends know”

Your friend got the message and winked at you, before turning back to the table. You shake your head laughing. She was always trying to set you up, but you hadn’t seemed to find the one yet.

Matthew introduces you to his companions and as the night went on you were shocked to find that you were sat with a bunch of celebrities.

It turned out that Matthew was involved in a TV show named Criminal Minds.

As you danced the night away you got to know the people around you and truly enjoyed their company.

Towards the end of the night, as the slow song section begun to play out, Matthew pulled you up to dance, just had he had throughout your time together.

“Matthew come on” you whine playfully, as he tugs at your arm.

You couldn’t understand how he still had so much energy when it was 1 in morning.

Your friend was long gone, but you assured her you were fine and you’d message her when you made it home.

“One more dance, please?” He begged you and for some reason you couldn’t find yourself saying no.

“One more” you give into him and let him lead you to the dance floor.

He pulls you so close to him, that you were sure he could feel your heart beat racing.

You put your hands on his chest as you both sway slowly together.

You closed your eyes and rested your head on him, the alcohol of the night finally hitting you.

Matthew didn’t seem to mind, he stood supporting you as you continued to sway with him. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself right now but there was one question that wouldn’t leave him. He ended up just blurting it out.

“Did you really not know who I was?”

You look at him with tired eyes, suddenly nervous.

“It’s not a problem is it? Me not knowing about your status”

He quickly realised what it sounded like and backtracked.

“No, no , it’s not a bad thing. I guess I’m just used to people knowing, asking for photos and all. I love my fans, they are like my family but I guess it’s nice to hang with someone who didn’t see me as a celebrity but as a person”

He rubs the back of his head and smiles sheepishly, hoping he hadn’t scared you away.

Little did he know that he’d done the opposite. You were Intrigued by him and maybe ... also attracted to him.

When he offered to walk you home, you gladly took it.

When you arrived at your apartment, he wished you goodnight and begun to walk away when you decided to go out on a limb.

“Matthew wait!”

You race to find a scrap of paper and run back to your front door.

You hand it to him and go back inside.

“Thank you for an amazing night. I hope to see you soon”

Matthew looked down at what you had given him when he heard your door click shut.

It was your phone number.

He smiled to himself and stuck the note in his pocket.

He hoped to see you soon also.

Tag List - @purple-scarf-mistress @ladydansblanche @crazyforsstuff @aperrywilliams @purpledragon-1995 @must-be-a-weasley-92

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 9: Pre-Wedding Jitters

Y’all know what’s wild? The season is coming to a close! I feel like we just got started with Season 8, and it’s already nearly over. I’m not ready for things to end...except the love triangle. Lol.

One important thing I want to talk about, before we move on to my regularly scheduled episode write-up, of course, is the quality of the writing and filming this season. I really feel like the team took a step back and thought very carefully about how to improve the show, and then they went through the effort of actively trying to improve things. 

Are there still badly-written areas of the show? Absolutely. Are there things I loathe seeing? Yes. Are there plotlines that are extremely contrived even by Hallmark standards? Unfortunately there are.

But I don’t think anyone can deny that the writing this season is, overall, an improvement over Seasons 5, 6, and 7. The only thing that I feel about S8 that is worse than 5/6/7 is the love triangle, but it had to come to a head eventually so it was always going to be a point of contention among the fans.

I’ve seen a ton of negativity going around the Internet, and you are all entitled to your opinions, but let’s hold back from being too angry until we see how things will work out. After all, there is a chance, however small, that Hallmark will end up surprising us.

So here’s to hoping that the writing quality uptick will continue as we move into Season 9.

And now, our plotlines from this episode:

The Dilapidated Love Triangle

The Wedding Planning/Party

The New & Improved Henry Gowen

Miscellaneous (Car Investigation, pastor position/Jesse and Clara + Cafe, Carson and Faith, Mike and Fiona)

This was another episode that felt pretty smooth in its storytelling; it had some smaller plots going on, but two primarily large plots, a smaller one that revolved around Henry, and then a few small (connected) plots from previous episodes/that overarched the whole season!

Sorry for the muddle by the way, it took me hours to type this and I’m too tired to read it over thoroughly before posting. If you see any glaring issues please let me know so I can fix them, though!

--

The Dilapidated Love Triangle

Let’s just get the pig slop out of the way, shall we? I think we are all in some sort of agreement by now that we’re tired of the triangle and just want to see it resolved as soon as possible so that we can get on with our lives and invest our interests in the right place(s). 

I also believe most of us are also in some kind of agreement, however we feel about the characters, the triangle, and who Elizabeth’s choice should be, that this thing has been very poorly paced. This sentiment seems to be echoed across the Internet right now. The pacing is AWFUL. After two years of almost nothing happening, now we’re going to bullrush to the end of the triangle? That’s a yikes from me, Chief. (Wait, didn’t I say that last week, too?)

I was never a fan of the narrated beginnings of episodes. I think they’re really tacky and boring. That said, there’s no other way to get into Elizaeth’s head easily because...I don’t know. Either Erin isn’t that skilled or the director doesn’t know how to direct her, or the script sucks. They struggle SO MUCH with show-don’t-tell that they have to resort to telling...which is fine, sometimes. This is an instance where telling is just mega redundant since she says the same exact thing probably 10 more times in the episode. I wish they’d have just kept the first part of the reflection or focused more on that—how Nathan talking about it...makes it feel fresh and raw again in a way she didn’t expect.

Anyway, Elizabeth writing that she’s been “left to reflect, once more, on the senseless accident that took [Jack’s] life” is ridiculous. Senseless? He was in charge of the training mission, but unless I’m losing every last marble I’ve ever had, wasn’t it Jack’s choice to go after the younger recruits who had been separated? Wasn’t it thanks to Jack’s quick thinking and intervention that only one person lost his life that day (Jack himself)? 

This is where the whole “Jack died heroically” thing kind of matters, actually. Especially when you butt it up against Nathan being the original person intended to go. Would he have risked his life like that? We’ll never know, but I’m sure Nathan thinks about it a lot, and it’s not something that should be left out of this story.

It’s valid for Elizabeth to wonder why Nathan kept the Secret hidden from her for almost three years, but what is really troublesome is the weird shift she seems to have between Casual Curiosity and Stricken Grief about it.

I grew tired of mopey Elizabeth in S4 and 5, so I’m not happy to see her back. Fewer eye drops, please. -_-

Anyway, it almost felt like a breakthrough when Elizabeth asked Rosemary why she thought Nathan took so long to tell her about Fort Clay, but Rosemary’s response was so bad. “He didn’t think it was important enough.” WHAT? WHO WOULD SAY THAT? Rosemary can be a bit thick-headed but that was almost too contrived for me to willingly follow. Anyone with a brain would realize it was IMPORTANT and THAT WAS WHY IT WAS A SECRET.

And when Elizabeth’s like, “Not important enough?” BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY IT IS IMPORTANT... Rosemary just tells her that Jack’s death wasn’t Nathan’s fault.

Which. She’s right. But that doesn’t make the secret unimportant. It’s still kind of a big deal. He’s confessed to being in love with Elizabeth multiple times now. Even Rosemary can’t be so dumb that she doesn’t realize that the connection between Jack’s death and Nathan is...meaningful, especially to Elizabeth. And that Nathan knew this and couldn’t bring himself to tell her because he knew it would hurt her.

Anyway, I’m doing my best to give Elizabeth a bit of grace here, because she’s just so self-centered I almost can’t stand it. To be clear, Elizabeth has ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS. It’s just that usually the issues at hand aren’t about her, they’re about someone else. 

Rosemary’s right but what she said was straight-up stupid. I don’t know, I don’t think the characters are out of character so much as the dialogue just didn’t flow very naturally and I felt like the characters were making assumption jumps to force certain responses. If Elizabeth can’t agree with Rosemary that Jack’s death isn’t Nathan’s fault, then she should have expressed that a bit more directly so that Rosemary could draw the conclusion that Elizabeth does feel it’s Nathan’s fault. It came across like Rosemary was speaking to the audience more than to Elizabeth, and I didn’t like it.

--

The most delightful scene in the entire episode has to go to Allie and Lucas. That was so cute and wholesome and good. Her asking if she could sit at the bar, him offering her a treat, her trying to return the gift ‘cause she felt caught in the middle and like it wasn’t fair to accept it... SO GOOD. They remembered the gift multiple episodes later AND incorporated it into this episode flawlessly. LOVED IT. 

Also, she asked an important question. LUCAS...where DO YOU LIVE?!

His story was a bit silly but I actually enjoyed it. It gives him a more playful vibe and also I think was almost entirely to ensure that Allie felt more comfortable and less anxious about what was happening around her. It was also his way of reassuring her that him courting Elizabeth wasn’t going to take Elizabeth out of Allie’s life...and that things will be okay.

I enjoyed it.

Things were a bit awkward with Elizabeth and Allie but they felt...better than before, so I felt like the conversation helped.

--

Lucas calling Allie “Allie Grant” was nice now that her adoption is official! I appreciate that.

Elizabeth and Lucas talk about how Lucas told Allie he’ll “work things out” with Nathan and Elizabeth definitely doesn’t appreciate it, and with somewhat good reason: she doesn’t like being caught in the middle of things any more than Allie does.

The thing is...she has had the power...all this time...to tell Nathan straight-up to leave her alone/that she isn’t interested. I stand by what I said before, that she shouldn’t have to tell him no for him to respect the boundaries she’s set, but if he’s not respecting those boundaries she needs to be firm about it.

I like how Lucas comes off in this scene. He wants to understand, he listens, he’s patient, he doesn’t push. I’m here for it.

She tells him what Nathan told her and he seems a bit overwhelmed by it, too. It’s pretty clear that he realizes she must be feeling all kinds of things after finding that out, especially after all this time. 

Again, for the second time, Elizabeth doesn’t seem all that grief-stricken about the secret being kept from her for so long: she tells Lucas she just doesn’t understand how he could keep it from her. 

He asks permission to suss out an answer and Elizabeth politely declines and says she’ll ask herself, but to please forgive her, she needs some time to...think.

She watches Lucas go and then...touches her wedding band.

-

Nathan meets Rosemary in the library and goes on a long boring monologue about how he’s read like, three whole books that women wrote, but still doesn’t understand women. No shit, sherlock. That was terrible writing...just straight up bad writing.

But I’m not exactly surprised because the very next thing that happens is that Rosemary tells Nathan...she’s been in his eXACT position before!

No...you have not. Yes, you were the unwanted third wheel, but that’s where the similarities ended, and you should have clarified. This just didn’t hit well for me, I don’t know. I don’t want to say it’s out of character, but...I don’t think Rosemary is this soft gentle personality anyway. I feel like she was always a bit more in your face with the things she said, not “try to encourage a manner of action in a very roundabout way” like she is in this episode. But again, without a logic jump from Rosemary, this scene doesn’t quite work.

I think I might have preferred Rosemary to play dumb and ask what specifically he didn’t understand about women. Make him freakin’ say it. And then she could react better. 

--

We get Love Confession #3 or whatever we’re on with Nathan, now. Let’s go over the entire scene.

Elizabeth walks into Nathan’s office and instantly asks him why it took him so long to tell her what happened.

He says he felt guilty and when she tells him she doesn’t understand, he goes on to say that after the accident he requested a transfer to Hope Valley. He never met Jack but he knew he’d left behind a wife and child, and felt it was his responsibility to look after them and protect them.

She asks why he would assume that, and he explains that he felt it was his duty. And that when he found himself falling in love with her, he felt like he was betraying Jack and his memory. That’s why he didn’t tell her.

He then takes it ONE STEP TOO FAR and says, “I fell in love with you, and I think that love is always worth fighting for.” 

Elizabeth says “Excuse me,” and leaves. Nathan’s face afterward is maybe a decent mix of “I probably shouldn’t have said that” and regret, but...woof.

Anyway, I was fine with this up to the point where Nathan said, completely unprompted, that love is always worth fighting for. How does he know? What are his experiences with love? Books he read, written by men??? PLEASE.

READ PRIDE & PREJUDICE U SWINE... ELIZABETH FALLS IN LOVE WITH MR. DARCY BECAUSE HE DECIDES HE WANTS TO CHANGE AND BE A BETTER MAN AND THEN DOES SOOOOOOOOO oh wait this is turning into an Elizabeth/Henry argument...OOPS?

Anyway, yeah. Not a fan of that line. It almost feels like there’s something missing. She’s standing in front of him about to cry because she feels hurt that he didn’t tell her this, you know, crucial information, and he’s just like “Yeah I didn’t tell u cause I love you and felt like i was betraying jack’s memory and also lol love is worth fighting for babe!” What kind of confusing mess of babble is this?

Honestly, it just left a bad taste in my mouth. :( I have so many really obnoxious opinions about Nathan and what they’ve done with him this season, but I feel like I should save them for a season summary podcast or something, just in case Hallmark ends up surprising me. Right now I just feel like they really just wanted to give him what the fans hated about him (he wasn’t passionate enough, not manly enough, not forward enough with his emotions, at least from what I read on Reddit and Instagram last year), but in like THE WORST POSSIBLE WAYS and for the wORST POSSIBLE REASONS in the VERY WORST SCENARIO.

I feared that would be Nathan’s reason for coming to town from the moment the character was announced and...I wanted to be wrong.

Anyway, I really liked his self-awareness up to that point. He never met Jack, which keeps some of the weirdness at bay. Also, he felt like he needed to make sure Jack’s family was okay, and that’s fine. I wouldn’t call it noble (as Rosemary later does), but it’s not exactly bad, either. Then we got the line of him admitting that it felt kind of bad to fall in love with her. I wish he’d gone on to say that wasn’t supposed to happen, or even given her a reason he loves her (so that it doesn’t feel like we’re just being told everything), because his line about love being worth fighting for right after he says he felt like he was betraying Jack’s memory by loving her...was...really strange??? Maybe a few sentences were edited out? 

--

Elizabeth tries to refuse to play Fiona’s blindfold game and LITERALLY NO ONE SAVES HER (though I think Rosemary considered trying). I hate the idea of this game solely based on the fact that several people participating shouldn’t even be there (Nathan, Bill, Mike, Fiona, Molly), but Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to accidentally choose Nathan if he wasn’t there, so... -_-

I think I might have actually liked this (her “no” with Carson was super cute actually, probably the cutest laugh she’s ever had on this show) if she’d had the chance to reject a few more guys on the way down the line. If she was closer to the end of the line she’d feel her options were running out and might second-guess herself. Having Nathan be the second person she touches and having her choose is...eh.

Nitpicks aside (their hands wouldn’t feel the same and she held Lucas’s hand quite recently actually), it could have been worse. At least she stated who she was searching for...

BUT UGH THE EMBARRASSMENT.

The thing that gets me about the whole scene is 100% that everyone in town would know about the Triangle drama, so it feels...weird to see everyone so gung-ho to watch this happen... I don’t know... I like having fun too, but NOBODY even TRIED to step in??? 

At least Lucas found some humor in it right away (he smiles). 

I think I wish someone had said something. Maybe Nathan could have said, “Nope, sorry” to lighten the mood a bit? Or Lucas could have said, “Almost!” since he was standing right next to Nathan?

--

Anyway, we’re spared having to wait because the very next scene is Lucas checking on Elizabeth and laughing about her choice.

One line I wish they’d added in is that someone else got it wrong. Imagine if Lucas said, “At least you didn’t pick Bill like Clara did!” Or even just made a joke about it in general like: “Of course I’m not upset. But if you would have picked Bill I might be a little hurt. My hands aren’t that old yet.”

Elizabeth tells him that she spoke to Nathan about the whole...thing and it was awkward. She chooses to not tell Lucas the rest of the reason Nathan gave, but instead only admits that he told her he loves her again. When Lucas asks what she said in response she said she didn’t say anything.

Lucas seems...a trifle upset at this, and understandably so. I think he can sense she’s...not really a sure thing and is worried about it. :( I feel so bad for him right now.

--

Rosemary stops by to see Elizabeth after Lucas leaves, and tells her she ran into Nathan at the library yesterday. Elizabeth tells her what Nathan said in his office and Rosemary says it was noble and selfless of him.

(I mean...it wasn’t selfless. Like at all.)

Elizabeth says she never asked him to be noble. She didn’t ask him to fall in love with her, either.

She asks Rosemary if she encouraged Nathan’s feelings for her at the library. Rosemary says no, but Elizabeth asks again and she interrupts her to ask Elizabeth if she’d rather hear what she actually said or just assume.

Rosemary goes on to say that she just wants what’s best for Elizabeth.

And we get Elizabeth asking how anyone would know what was best for her.

I mean, that’s like 90% on you for not communicating with your friends, but also, it’s 100% on you for just assuming you knew what Rosemary said to Nathan. I think she’s just looking for a reason why Nathan is being so persistent and in her mind encouragement from someone else is the only thing that makes sense, ‘cause she sure as heck hasn’t been encouraging him herself!

This hurts Rosemary’s feelings, probably because she was about to say that she wants what’s best for Elizabeth so she asked Nathan to stop getting in the way lol, and says maybe she should leave (since Elizabeth is in a bad mood). Elizabeth agrees she should go.

End episode. On this note. Woof.

Overall it wasn’t too bad I guess? But I’m not a fan of how some of this was written. It really felt like they cut lines out to make the episode shorter, when...they could have cut out one of the boring side plots. You know. The entire thing with Jesse and Clara, for example. 

--

The Wedding Planning/Party

I admit that I got a little enjoyment out of Florence saying no to all the dresses. Highly relatable. 

Then, at the barbershop, Fiona says the exact wORST possible thing about Florence wanting a hairstyle that’ll “knock Ned dead” FLHDSFAJDSA.

Florence goes on to say she wants anything but “ordinary Florence” and Molly steps in.

Honestly, I wish they’d just let Molly stick to being Florence’s BFF because that’s the role she plays best. Also, I’m almost sad Florence and Ned got together because it means #teamflomo is no mo’. :(

Paul shows up...

I don’t know what I expected but this boy would have been a literal BABY in season one, which makes the whole thing with Florence almost sadder AND it gives Florence more in common with Elizabeth (widow with a young child) BUT I HAVE OPINIONS.

I know what you’re thinking. “Manna, you always have opinions!” Yes, you’d be right. 

They based this off of ONE (1) line of dialogue that Florence had in S1 when something was stolen from her house. She says, “while my child slept nearby” or something like that.

They brought a child in...for that? On one hand...I’m impressed.

On the other hand, I kind of had just assumed they’d retconned that and that Florence had no children (which is why she was always goofing off gossiping with Molly) so I don’t really know how to feel about the whole thing.

Rosaleen starred in an episode and never showed up again after S1, so I think I’d have preferred to see her return instead of a child we literally never laid eyes on. But he’s a cutie. And he’s named after his father just like little Jack so...I’ll take it!

--

The party begins and we have to do “the men are stupid and don’t know how to plan” again which is really annoying. The highlight of this entire thing was Ned saying (about his hairline) that he’s been driving with the top down since his 30s. I respect you AND ONLY YOU, Ned.

--

The party continues on and they play charades. Rosemary chose weird awful options that don’t make any sense and are hard to act out. Ned’s could have been funny but the one Bill got is just...so weird.

The funniest part about it is looking at everyone staring at Molly as she guesses it.

I think it was supposed to be...cute? Or something? It was just really weird for me.

“Cuddle up a little Closer, Lovey Mine” (yes, it’s “lovey” not “lovely”) was written and recorded in 1908. You can listen to it here. Lyrics here.

They then play the Most Awkward Game Ever, one that would have had me sweating bullets if I’d had to play it. Florence has to find her man by only holding the hands of the other men.

As Fiona says, it’s a bit...risqué, but Florence rejects Jesse quickly and finds out the second man is Bill by squeezing his hands too hard.

Bill explains that his arthritis is flaring up and of course Sara and I jumped on that almost at the same moment:

We like Bill. :P

And then Florence correctly guesses that the next man is Ned. It’s very wholesome and sweet.

But then it’s Elizabeth’s turn because I guess she’s not been traumatized enough this episode. I covered that in the triangle part of the plot, though.

--

The New & Improved Henry Gowen

We start off with a BANG here with Henry and Christopher. Christopher misses Rachel because he’s a twitterpated little FOOL and he tells Henry all about it...while Henry sees Bill tearing apart the stolen car in the distance.

He asks Christopher how he got to Hope Valley from Hamilton and Christopher just straight up comes clean about it: he drove a stolen car that his buddy stole. 

Henry scolds him a bit, tells him he can’t borrow a stolen car, and explains that he doesn’t want Christopher to end up like him. Christopher seems kind of surprised by this and says, “You turned out good.” 

To which Henry replies, “The jury’s still out on that.” 

Christopher says he’s done with that kind of thing, and Henry tells him he believes him.

Honestly, Henry’s “I believe you” got to me. It sounded SO genuine. And also, can I say YET AGAIN that this kid was an impeccable choice to play Henry’s son? WOW. I can’t get over how much alike they are even in mannerisms and looks.

But THEN when Henry tries to say Rachel has something to do with Christopher being done with that old lifestyle, Christopher tells him “And you” AND I ALMOST LOST IT. SOOOOO GOOD. Henry goes on to explain that “long after” he divorced Christopher’s mom, he met Abigail, who saw the potential for goodness in him. And that he can’t help Christopher be a better man because he’s still figuring that out for himself, but if he thinks Rachel can help him, he should do what he can to not lose her.

--

Later, Henry invites Christopher to Ned’s party and Christopher declines but asks what happened to the woman Henry mentioned earlier—Abigail, of course. Henry says she left town to help her mother.

Is this a...hint of things to come? I’m...not sure.

Henry sits down for two seconds before Lucas asks to speak with him outside. Once there, Lucas admits that he contacted Christopher. This is one of the most contrived plotlines we’ve had in a bit, if only because I just can’t figure out how Lucas would have known who Christopher was, let alone whether or not he would be useful? He doesn’t even have the same last name... I mean, what, did Henry write in sparkly gel pens or something? 

But for some reason he contacted Christopher to come work for Henry to keep an eye on him. He’s not proud of having done it, which makes sense. I guess I wouldn’t be either.

Henry’s upset about it. Lucas tells Henry that he took advantage of him and that he had to make sure Henry could be trusted.

Christopher doesn’t know that Lucas told him, though, and Henry asks that Lucas keep it that way.

It makes Christopher’s behavior with Lucas make more sense (when he kept trying to push him around earlier this season), but the timing is just...awful? Maybe talking to Elizabeth about Nathan’s secret made him feel guilty about his own? I’d buy into it more if I felt like there was a really compelling reason for Lucas to feel that Christopher would do any good...but it’s just too contrived for me.

--

Christopher randomly decides to go to Bellingham to see Rachel. Henry tells him not to make trouble if her parents ask him to leave. Henry makes to leave, and Christopher stops him.

I CANNOT SING THE PRAISES OF THIS SCENE ENOUGH. Christopher tries to tell Henry about the thing with Lucas and Henry’s like...you’re different now, you’re starting over it doesn’t matter anymore!!!! Everyone deserves a second chance!

AND THEY HUG AND CHRISTOPHER TELLS HENRY HE LOVES HIM.

They almost got me to cry. ALMOST. I refuse to cry at this show because I refuse to give Brian Bird the satisfaction, but boy oh boy was this close.

Henry responds with a “me too” and makes Christopher promise to write. Then the stage leaves and that is that.

The rest of the storyline for Henry is under the car investigation. They’re related but...only intertwine at the very end so I separated them. ;)

--

Miscellaneous (Car Investigation, Pastor Position/Jesse and Clara, Carson and Faith, Mike and Fiona)

Car investigation: Nathan starts this episode off on the wrong foot. I think that was...a mistake. THAT SAID...I’m relieved Bill isn’t being written as a complaining whiny pile of trash for once, so I just want to say that...they had to realize after last episode the fan opinion of Nathan would be...not great, so mayyybe they shouldn’t have started this episode off with him literally complaining about doing his job...while he’s in uniform no less. Also he has NO PASSION at all for his job, or for investigating, which I hope means he’ll end up quitting the Mounties. (It could be a hint of things to come...I hope.) 

I mean, does he think Bill got his position for...no reason? Also, thank God Nathan turned down the promotion to Inspector if that was how he was gonna treat actually doing the work?? I’m pretty sure this is their idea of “humor” but boy did it fall flat after the love triangle mess that’s been going on.

The owner talks to Nathan on the phone later and is coming from Hamilton to get his car. Nathan seems to be telling Bill this to discourage him from wasting his time investigating, but Bill doesn’t want to stop lol.

Ned’s comment from the party about his hairline being him “driving with the top down” gives Bill an Idea in the middle of the bachelor party and leaves. Ned looks shook that he produced An Idea.

And follows. Ned is absolutely adorable as he assists Bill. They should interact more?? Long story short, Bill figures out that the top was probably up when it was being transported to Hope Valley (as you wouldn’t want people getting a good look at your face if they’re looking for a stolen car), and finds a footprint in the removable top.

The next day, Bill approaches Henry up at the oil derricks and comments on the fact that Lucas told him that Christopher checked out of his room at the saloon. Henry is up front and honest about where Christopher went, and says he went to Bellingham to see Rachel Thom.

He says, “You know how it is. You love someone, you’d do anything for them.”

The one interesting thing about this comment is that...no, Bill does NOT know. He’s never admitted to being in love in his life. He married Nora, but that was out of obligation (something he makes clear several times). Like, he obviously cared about Nora, but he wasn’t in love with her.

Obviously he’s loved someone enough to do anything for them (his son), but considering he’s dead, and possibly died in a really traumatizing way considering how it’s portrayed, that seems a bit...insensitive. :P

Bill counters it with, “Almost anything, maybe.” 

He then goes on to tell Henry he found a footprint in the stolen car.

And he just. Kind of. Gives Henry. A look. Because he knows exactly who stole the car, he just has to prove it.

Henry stops Bill and says: “A while back I remarked about how you had never solved the mine disaster. Perhaps if you and I get together, I might be able to help.”

Bill doesn’t say a THING...he just leaves. But he looks kind of...put off by the whole thing.

Like he knows what Henry is doing.

Do you know what Henry is doing?

Anything.

For someone he loves.

(Pst. That someone is Christopher.)

As soon as Bill is gone, he picks up a pair of shoes and throws them into the fire.

I think it’s pretty clear that Henry is using this mine disaster thing to protect Christopher, and he’s doing it for this reason WAY MORE than he’s doing it to come clean and be a better man. That’s just my theory, though. I think if Bill hadn’t found anything out about the car, then Henry wouldn’t have brought it up.

But I guess he knows something. The question is...what? And also, when did he mention Bill never having solved the mine disaster? I’m really struggling to remember Henry ever saying that to him, at least not recently. Does anyone recall offhand?

Anyway, I’m wondering if they’ll tie up that whole thing about Noah and Peter that was never addressed on the show to the fullest. You know, the whole thing with them going into the mine knowing it wasn’t safe and not warning anyone. I think a lot of people who watch this show have never been in poverty or lived paycheck to paycheck, but sometimes a person just has to put their head down and keep working even when it’s not safe, because they have to keep living. Or because they had more time to put a stop to things before anything bad happened.

I think blaming Noah and Peter as much as Henry is pretty stupid, but they still shoulder some blame. They were working to fix that problem. Henry wasn’t. He did what he was told and shut up. But maybe there’s a bit more to that story. Could be interesting.

Could also be the worst reveal ever, so...who knows? I’m curious to find out.

BUT ALSO what do they mean Bill didn’t solve that case? The widows sued and won. Sure, he got beat up in S1 carrying evidence out of the mine, but it’s not as if there wasn’t a lot more of it inside the mine, too. Everyone knows the fault of the collapse was due to working conditions being unsafe. What’s left to solve? Is Henry going to give Bill the names of the people who told Henry to keep his mouth shut? 

Or...are they talking NOT ABOUT THE HOPE VALLEY MINE DISASTER, but the original one that sent Henry to Coal Valley (and Nora into a marriage with Bill)? Because that one was not solved. The company just made Henry a scapegoat in that case.

THE WAIT TO FIND OUT MORE IS GOING TO BE TORTURE.

--

Pastor Position/Jesse and Clara + Cafe: I enjoyed Minnie in this episode and seeing her step in and help Clara and become part of the town was great. Jesse giving more credit to Joseph than Lee was pretty funny, and a nice set-up for Lee realizing that Joseph is a pastor. Lee is apparently head of the search committee to find a new pastor...which...sure...okay. Also apparently the newspaper died?? Uh.

I’m kind of hoping Rosemary’s new passion will be the newspaper since she’s supposedly going to dig her nose into things next episode and she used to write a column for the old paper (so she has some experience). Thoughts on that?

Anyway, Joseph agrees to pastor the church instantly the second Lee asks...so it feels weird that his original goal/plans/whatever just...don’t matter anymore? Okay.

They buy a bell.................WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY BIGGEST PETTY COMPLAINT OF THE EPISODE. BRO THAT BELL STRAIGHT UP LOOKS 3D PRINTED FJLKDSAHFLDSAHFLDSAHFKLDSA

Anyway I’m teasing. The Liberty Bell weighs a little over one ton, and two horses could easily pull that.

No complaints. My husband complained last week that there wasn’t a bell and now there is. It’s like he knew. 

Joseph talks about what a “calling” feels like (I think this will come back again with Rosemary which has me VERY HAPPY): a tug on his heart.

Joseph also tells Lee that the men in his yard earlier were surveyors and that he won’t move, at least not far, because he has a congregation to lead, now. Makes me wonder if he’ll actually sell!

Anyway, Jesse and Mike are cute pals and decide to have a snack in the cafe while the gals are socializing with Rosemary (who has just returned from the library).

Rosemary’s books are on land acquisitions, surveying, and territorial law. 

Minnie and Rosemary decide to talk about this while Clara leaves. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe just ‘cause it was boring lol.

She gets back as Mike and Jesse are talking about, uh, her, actually, and Mike asks if all is quiet on the homefront.

Yes, it is. Unlike the trenches of WWI.

But seriously I thought it could be a joke reference to “All Quiet on the Western Front”...a WWI novel. Since...you know...WWI is going on and hasn’t been acknowledged at all even though it’s almost over now.

Joke’s on me, though...that’s too advanced for Hallmark.

Anyway it’s only quiet for like two seconds, because Clara busts in, thinks they’re eating the food she’s been busting her ass over for the party, and yells at Jesse. It makes everything awkward. Jesse simpers about like a sad little clown instead of trying to be understanding. Yawn. Awful. Bye.

I don’t know what would fix that scene, but I think part of the problem is...I’m just not invested in Clara and Jesse anymore. It’s perfectly reasonable to expect them to need more time to get over the problems in their relationship but I don’t care about them enough to care about the journey...if that makes sense. I’d rather watch Bill dust for prints on the car some more.

They do have a chat, and work things out, so that’s good I guess.

--

Carson and Faith: Carson has officially stolen the dock from Abigail and Frank, and so my hatred for them doubled instantly.

Me, a territorial loon: THAT SPOT IS NOT YOURS!!!!! FIND YOUR OWN!!!

Anyway Carson makes things awkward and then busts out that he accepted the fellowship without talking to Faith.

She’s kind of hurt by this?? UNDERSTANDABLY?? But then he asks if it would have made a difference. I mean, common courtesy would be at least sitting down like this and telling her, “I’ve decided to accept it.” But no. He just. Accepted it without telling her he was going to. Bro...

They aren’t on the same page for even two seconds. He tells her he was committed to the relationship and put all his plans aside so that she could be happy.

Honestly, as much hate as Nathan’s getting right now, if people gave a damn about Faith I think Carson would be getting his fair share of hate, too. What a jerk???

He goes on to say it wasn’t a waste of his time (when she asks), but never bothers to tell her more or to prove he didn’t feel that way (BECAUSE HE SURE ACTS LIKE IT WAS A WASTE OF HIS TIME). He just says he hopes she changes her mind and comes with him to Baltimore.

At the party Carson and Faith go outside to talk where Carson admits that he should have told her he was accepting the fellowship before he wrote. She tells him that the year she was gone was almost too much time apart for her, and Carson promises to write her and tells her she can visit him, too, but she brings the conversation back to reality. They’ll both be super busy. 

He suggests they get married, and then immediately says he’s not asking (it’s not how he’d propose), but that they could look forward to getting married. (Good thing they laughed ‘cause I sure wasn’t. It was super awkward...) He suggests seeing how they feel in about a year. (Oh...perfect timing for...next season...hm.)

Faith tells him she loves him and wants what’s best for both of them, even if that thing isn’t them being together. They agree to just enjoy the night and worry about the rest later.

Anyway, I feel like these two just have NO chemistry (they’re worse than Bill and Molly in my books). I really appreciate the attempt to give them meaningful material, and I like that Carson has a passion again, but boy oh boy are these two hard to watch. The plotline is really good, but the characters just...aren’t great. I figured if anything they’d give a plot like this to AJ and Bill to tie that up (some kind of conflicting reason she can’t stay in Hope Valley to be written off the show for good) so I was surprised to see it going to Carson and Faith instead, but like...in a good way because it’s actually compelling for their situation! I've been in a similar situation and it feels REALLY BAD to like someone a lot but not be ready or willing to commit to an extreme for whatever reason. Faith doesn’t want to go to Baltimore because she loves Hope Valley and she undoubtedly doesn’t want to see it go without a doctor at all. Carson likes Hope Valley but his passion is in surgery and he can make a huge difference in a big hospital. He could still make a difference in Hope Valley, too (undoubted he’s the only surgeon for many miles around these smaller towns) but he also likes hospitals and their equipment and maybe misses what he had a long time ago.

So it’s a great plot. It’s compelling. It’s even a bit tragic when you think about it!

But my God do these characters just...not come off as convincing. :(

--

Mike and Fiona: The scene with Ned was SUPER cute. Genuinely funny. Mike asking Fiona out. Everyone teasing Mike about how much he likes her. It’s very cute and wholesome. So far I enjoy it a lot. There’s not a lot to talk about here but I like that it’s...simple.

I MEAN...she’s so cute.

--

END THOUGHTS:

I want the next three episodes right now immediately, but I’m also going to be pretty sad when this season ends...I think.

The biggest speculation from this episode, by the way, is that they’re opening things up to write Abigail back onto the show. How do we feel about that? 

Any other thoughts? Favorite scenes? Share!

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: Talking

Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes, Stucky x reader

warning:  fluff, mention of nudity 

The First kiss |  The first touch | Moving In | The day they left for war | Found you | The day Stark found out | Big Change | The Train | The Plane | Alone | Unfortunate sequences of events | I know her | The Resturant part 1 | The Resturant part 2 | It’s me | You can keep her | He’s okay with that | Mama loves me | Kissing Captain | Kissing Winter | Healing | Hurt | We’ll Wait | Memories | Prude | Whore | Put in her place | The day Stark Jr. Found out | Now you know |  Nursing | Like a Virgin | Morning After | The Catacombs | Off with her head | Grieving the Insane | Let me make it up to you | Punishment | Spiderling pt1 | Spiderling pt2 | Twentieth-century love | The new we can imagine | Connection | Please, marry me | Walk me | Stand with me | Final touches | I Do | Honeymoon | A moment of Paradise | Pictures from Paradise | The Fever | The bad days | Let’s talk about it | Practice makes perfect pt1 | Practice makes perfect pt2 | Seed | Unknown Stolen | unfulfilled Duties | Talking Emotion | Next Step | Holy Shit!! | First steps to hope | She’s Awake | Nicknames | The Mother and The father | The Boy | The Name Game |Chapter 68

Stepping out of the shower (Y/N) found Bucky standing there waiting for her with a towel. She smiled stepping towards him starting with her legs he works his way up his body leaving a trail of kisses as he went. she giggled as he finally got to her lips. 

"Hey"

"Hi" she laughed 

"How was your day?"

"Busy. I spent the morning in the infirmary seeing to a few agents nothing serious but there were a lot them. After lunch, I spent the day with Ash. She hasn't really decorated her room so I figure we'd do a bit of online shopping to spice it up. I'm thinking about taking her out this weekend to do a bit of shopping. She needs to get out of this tower at some point, Oh, maybe I'll invite Peter to come she'll be comfortable. Honestly, they're going to be a cute couple one day." 

As (Y/n) talked on about her day and what she planned to do Bucky gently got her dress putting on her underwear and one of Steve's larger shirts. 

"It looks like you had a very interesting day and are planning a very interesting weekend."

"What about you?" she asked pulling him down so they are both laying on the bed. She sits up on her elbow" tell me about your day"

"Okay, it wasn't very eventful."

"So, I still want to hear about it. Tell me about your boring day, please?"

"Alright um... Woke up way too early but you knew that."

"Yeah, I woke up alone in a cold bed."

"ha sorry. I went on a morning run with Steve, made breakfast with him. He had an early meeting, I had breakfast with you and Ash. Spent about two hours with Ash watching tv, she doesn't talk a lot."  

"Neither does her father. Yeah, he uses to be a poet so good with his words but now he's all about action. But that's okay he's still beautiful even without his words."

"he sounds amazing," Bucky said smiling at her as she looks at him all dreamy.

"He really is." She giggled leaning over and kissing him. " He's one of a kind". He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down closer. "... And I haven't even mentioned his husband. Now he's got an Ass for days." Bucky howled with laughter at that one. 

Hearing laughter Steve peeked around the corner into the room to see Bucky and (Y/n) cuddling with each other and whispering to each other. Watching them together a nasty feeling filled his chest. Steve sighed frustrated with his feelings as he turned away from them and went to the living room. Now Steve's feeling wasn't jealous, he had been feeling like this for a few days now and he had figured that out, he was feeling like a third wheel, left out, lonely, unwanted. He felt like he was no longer needed or necessary. Ash was here she was Bucky and (Y/n)'s daughter, they were taking care of her like her parents, which they were. Bucky and (Y/n) had each other and Ash. They didn't really need him, did they? By the looks of what was happening in the bedroom, they had forgotten about him anyways.

Steve jumped startled " Jesus Chris" as he looked up to find Ash standing over him "You nearly gave me a heart attack". The girl didn't say anything just continued to look down at her with a blank expression. "Um... Are you okay? Is there something you need?" she shakes her head and nods to him. 

"Me?"  she points to the hallway leading to the bedrooms. 

"talk" she simples says then walks over towards the kitchen. 

She was right Steve had a problem that didn't involve just him. Plus they agree to communicate and talk through the relationship work through their relationship. And right now he wasn't following through with that deal. Steve looked to Ash who grabbed a water bottle and was walking back towards her room. "How did you know?" looking back at him she simply shrugged and continued to her room without a word. That girl was definitely smarter than she let on.

Letting out a heavy sigh Steve stood up. He had let this thoughts spin around and sit in his head for too long now it was time to be an adult and talk about them with his wife and husband. 

-

(Y/n) and Bucky was in a deep conversation about Steve when the man of the hour made an appearance. Though he didn't look too happy. " Hey, can we talk?" now worried Bucky and (Y/n) separated and made space in between them. 

"Is something wrong?" (Y/n) asked as she pulled Steve away from the door and on the bed in between them. 

" I just... I haven't been feeling well."

"Are you sick? Should we go to the med bay? I didn't-"

"(Y/n)" Bucky snapped her back into reality and out of the hole she was burying herself in. " Let him talk"

"I'm sorry. I'm just worried. Talk to us."

"First off I'm not sick. When I say I don't feel well I mean my feelings. Recently I've been feeling a really left out like the third wheel. Like I do not need or necessary."

"When did these feelings come up? Why"? Bucky asked as he pulled Steve into a hug. 

"You, (Y/n), and Ash make a beautiful family," he confessed as he wrapped his arms around Bucky waist but he pushes him away before he could. 

"I...What?" 

Steve sighed pulling away " I see you two talking and taking care of Ash and I don't know how to do that or to connect with her but you guys are doing it perfectly. You guys are her parents. And then I saw you two before coming in and I just I guess I just felt left out." 

(Y/n) leaned forward kissing Steve's cheek " would you like to know what we were talking about before you came in the room?"

"What made you laugh?" Steve asked

"You apparently, We were talking about your best features. She insists that it's your ass but I think it's your pecks. Although we both agree your lips are amazing. We haven't forgotten about you, Steve. You just seemed out of it so we were giving you space hoping you'd come to us when you were ready." Bucky said as he ran a hand through Steve's hair. The blonde closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. 

"It was Ash. She saw me slumping in the living room and told me to 'talk' so I came to you." 

"Ash is smarter than she looks. She can sense other's emotions although she doesn't fully understand emotions entirely. She's learning. Bruce thinks she got some updated serum or something. We haven't really looked into it." (Y/n) said as she rubbed Steve's shoulders " You should spend more time with her since you're feeling so left out of this family. Spend time with this family. "

Bucky agreed " I spent the morning with Ash, (Y/n) spends the afternoons with him, you should take nights. One on one with our daughter. You'll love it. She's amazing." 

Steve sighed he had over thought this entire situation he had no one to blame but himself and his insecurities. Pulling and wrapping (Y/n)'s arms around his waist he leaned his head on Bucky's shoulders. He was so lucky to have them both sometime he thought himself unworthy or them just to good for him they truly were a gift to him and gifts he'd wake up and thank god for every morning. Even though he didn't deserve them they were his and they weren't going anywhere. 

" God, I love you both. What have I done to deserve you?"

"Everything right my love." (Y/n) said kissing his neck " Except take a shower. Now go. Shower before bed."

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[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid

Pairing: Klance: Keith Kogane/Lance Mcclain

Tags: Vamp Lance | Klutz Lance | Idiot Keith | Shiro & Keith are adopted brothers | Enemies to idiots( ...I mean) | Enemies to idiots | Mentioned mpreg | Lance isn’t a full vampire( but keith is a full idiot) | Idiot Lance | Paranormal Investigators Pidge & Hunk | Hunk is a scaredy cat | Lance has a black cat name Blue | Fluffy bits | Lance is 44 | Hunk is 24 | Pidge is 22 | Keith is 26 | Shiro is 30 | Bottom Lance! | Vampire dynamics are a bit whack | Smutty bits | Mentions of men making babies | Lance might be a vamp but it turns out he’s useless | Lance’s mum’s name is Miriam | Papi Jorge | Keith is a special flower | Comin’ at ya in bite sized pieces | Fluffy dumbarsery with some tears | Slow build because they’re stupid heads | BOM are hunters | Shiro & Lance are lowkey bros | Keith’s got issues( but he’s got trauma to work through...that’s why he’s repetitive) | Updating tags to include mgreg themes | Not beta-ed | If pining was an Olympic sport these fools would share gold | Langst | Klangst | Hurt and comfort | 

Summary: Lance has lived a pretty simple life since being turned into a vampire. He’s got his house, his cat, and his two besties that have no idea he’s a vampire thanks to his awesome acting skills... He thought he was happy, that things were fine, that he wasn’t drawing too much attention to himself... and then he met Keith.Big, dumb, hot, emo, stupid Keith. Keith that went and flipped his life upside down, because, seriously, Keith really was a special kind of stupid.Vampire Lance x Vampire Hunter Keith

READ ON AO3

People sucked. People truly, madly, unequivocally, completely and totally sucked. That’s why Lance had brought his farmhouse outside a the tiny speck of a town barely found on most maps. He hadn’t lead a particularly long life, at least not when compared to others suffering from the same condition as he had, yet in his short time, he’d come to hate people. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t hate everyone. He had two best friends that meant the world to him, Pidge and Hunk. Both paranormal investigators, and both blind to his unusualness. No. What Lance held issue with was the continued hunting of his kind by the Vatican. His “ancestors” may have bathed in blood, and sacrificed virgins, all that kind of hooky-huha that one reads in scary stories, but before he’d been made a vampire, he liked to think he’d been a happy enough well liked kid, and he liked to think that even these days he still carried an air of that charm whenever he was forced from his home.

Garrison was a tiny town 50kms away from Platt City, founded during the Third World War, the city held plenty of ghostly secrets which had drawn both Hunk and Pidge to the area. Boasting a single Main Street, the highlights of the town were limited to tourist traps and three pubs on the Main Street. It was while studying at Platt University that he’d met both his best friends, twenty years his juniors, yet thanks to his unwanted immortality his body had stopped maturing roughly around the age of 18, making it easy to join the crowded university with a few falsified papers. His intention was to refresh his legal skills in order to keep up with the time’s. With the help of his Mami, he’d moved somewhere small and private, to a dead beat town that accepted weirdness as an everyday occurrence thanks to the tourists that came to see the ghosts of soldiers passed. When he’d been a kid, he’d always dreamed of being an astronaut, yet had chosen law to help those less fortunate in some kind of redemption for his condition. Being immortal meant keeping up with the times, though his house retained much of its old “Victorian” charm. Plus, with Platt being so close, it made for an easy drive up there every three weeks to pick up new blood bags. He was in no way a stereotypical vampire other than his need for blood. He wore glasses, because his eyesight was so good his mind couldn’t process everything he was seeing. This came with the unfortunate side effect of being clumsy as hell. He’d come from a Catholic family, meaning he believed in the presence of God. He’d also never drunk from a human, and never taken a human as pet or a lover like some did. When he wasn’t tagging along with Pidge and Hunk to ensure they didn’t accidentally summon something nasty, most of his time was devoted to providing low cost family legal advise.

Perhaps because he hadn’t been born a vampire, he’d retained many of his human ways. Sunlight didn’t turn him to ashes. Garlic gave him pretty bad stomach cramps and indigestion, which could be fobbed off with the excuse of an allergy. Silver gave him hives, again, something that could be passed off as an allergic reaction. He refused to harm animals for blood. He refused to bite another human, despite the fact a bite wouldn’t turn one anyway. They needed to be drinking his blood for that to happen, and after how he’d been turned, there was no way he’d ever do that to a mortal. He showed up in photographs, though his eyes always came out red instead of their usual bright blue. Mirrors weren’t exactly his friend, but not because he couldn’t see himself, instead because he hated seeing himself. They didn’t magically show his “vampire face”, instead they reminded him he’d never grow old. At the ripe age of 44 he looked 18. Even when he turned 100, he’d still look 18. It was thoroughly depressing. Unlike some vampires he didn’t have a coven, or a pack. His house only held him and his cat Blue, who he’d found as a tiny kitten under the steps leading up to the porch. She’s was black, fluffy, and an absolute princess in his eyes. Other than the general upkeep of his house, blood costs and the very occasional splurge on new clothes, most of the money he made went to spoiling his little princess. He wasn’t sure if Blue was part vampire, her teeth had always been sharp, as kitten he’d dug her out by the scruff of the neck, her tiny little teeth were far too cute as they buried themselves into his hand. She’d never acted like she was, but she also preferred to stay inside and had a personality that rivalled some of the most twisted “Queen” vamps he’d met. Then again, everyone knew cats were temperamental arseholes, so maybe Blue was simply being the snobby cow she was born to be.

All in all, Lance had nothing to complain about in his life. He was happy, content, safe in the knowledge no one about to ruin that anytime soon.

*

Pulling into the parking lot of their usual dive, Sal’s burgers wasn’t the most popular place in town, making it the perfect place to hang out. Located 10kms out of town on the road to Platt City, seemingly an inconvenience the locals, most of Sal’s customers came from tourists needing to stop because their kids needed the toilet. A few of the older locals had dedicated seats at the service bar, and maybe one or twice a week people spiced it up from their usual coffee shops on Main Street, but all in all, the lack of customers is what Lance loved about it. The whole place looked as if the 50’s had left it behind, from its pastel pink exterior to the cheesy green and silver breakfast stools at the c go heck board service bar. From his parking space he could already see Pidge and Hunk waiting for him in their usual booth. Hunk’s head thrown back as he laughed at something, probably at Pidge’s expense.

Cutting the engine, Lance grabbed up his wallet, phone, and gloves. He wasn’t exactly the warmest of people to begin with, but this freezing weather was likely to turn him into an undead popsicle. Already dressed in his favourite khaki jacket, Lance did a quick double check pat down before climbing out his battered blue four wheel drive. She was old, had one too many rust spots and didn’t like starting on days like today, but he’d had her since he’d graduated college the first time around. His Mami was always nagging at him to get rid of her, to use some of his money to buy something better, something that didn’t have roll down windows and a dodgy CD player. His first car was his first real taste of freedom after being turned. They’d been through a lot together, leaving him unable to say goodbye to her. That’d be like cutting him own arm off.

Sal gave him a wave as Lance walked in, the man was a teddy bear under his perpetual 5 o’clock shadow and greasy apron. His policy seemed to be that if someone couldn’t respect him like this, they weren’t worth his respect in return

“Hey’a there, Lance. Pull up a seat and I’ll bring your usual over”

“Thanks, Sal. You’re the best!”

Sal grumbled, Lance pretending he didn’t hear every low word about him. Bringing up that Sal secretly liked him well enough would only leave the old man flustered. For the sake of their “friendship”, he played along with Sal’s mumbling translating into how much of a pain he was. With a bounce in his step, Lance headed over to Pidge and Hunk, throwing himself into the booth as he wrapped his arms around Hunk

“Lance!”

“It’s soooo cold! Warm me up!”

Hunk hugged him back

“I’ve got you, bro! You’re freezing...”

“And you’re late. You were supposed to be here half an hour ago”

Lance sighed dramatically as he rolled his eyes at his favourite tech gremlin

“You know how she gets in cold weather”

“Who? There better not be anything and wrong with my Princess”

“Pidge, you should know by now that when Lance talks like that, he’s talking about his car... right?”

Lance grinned

“Of course I’m talking about my girl. And my Princess is perfectly happy. Blue was curled up under my blankets when I left”

Pidge pouted at him

“You could have brought her with you. I miss my Blue cuddles”

“You could try coming by the house. She was in a mood when I left”

Lance had a backpack carrier for her, but Blue would have frozen her perfect little toe beans out in the weather today. He’d left the heated blanket on a timer for her, unable to keep from spoiling his princess. Pidge’s hand left her laptop keyboard to grab her mug of coffee

“But your house is soooo far away. Anyway, we’re here to talk about work. I was on this forum last night, and someone swore they met a werewolf. Can you imagine? Hunk told me to stop scaring him”

Hunk... Hunk was the biggest ray of sunshine Lance had ever met. The poor man got every single form of motion sickness know, but that never once stopped him. He was terrified of ghost stories, not the best constitution to have when one is a ghost hunter... No, paranormal investigator. He’d been told there was a difference, but honestly it all sounded the same. People loved to think of the unknown, that world existing just out of their everyday mundane lives. Having been in that world for as long as he had been, Lance would happily pay for a boring mundane life

“I wasn’t scared... I’m... cautious”

Pidge clucked at Hunk, Hunk flipping her off. Laughing at him, Pidge wasn’t easily swayed

“You’re a chicken. What about you, Lance? Do you believe in werewolves?”

Werewolves were dicks. He’d bumped into a few over the years, and they’d done nothing to persuade him that they weren’t. The only thing they had going for them was their commitment to their mates and family, other than that, they were testosterone filled morons with claws.

“I don’t know... I feel like they’d all be too stupid to hide their existence”

“Wolves are incredibly smart... Fine, let’s put that one the back burner. Now, about work, there’s a group of tourists that want to come through the old hospital. The visitors centre in town gave me a call about it. Apparently they pay reeeeeeally well”

They’d have to. The old hospital was “cursed”. It’d been converted into a professional centre, but three years after the renovations they closed the building down thanks to the high number of injuries. If there were ghosts there, it was doubtful they’d care to bother with the employees. They all had their own issues. Lance held the opinion it was more a spate of psychosomatic symptoms resulting from the first accident. The building had been handed back over to the town, where it’d sat empty until it reopened as a military museum. With a bored sigh, Lance resigned himself to the fact that Pidge had already gone ahead and decided this was happening. Patting Hunk on the arm, the big man let him go

“When is this all supposed to be happening?”

Pidge’s eyes twinkled with mischief. Lance loved that about her. The top of her head barely came to his chin, but her pint sized stature didn’t stop her. She was always up for a laugh, and frightfully adapt with all things technology based. One of their first conversations came about because Lance had dropped his phone down the stairwell, smashing the screen as it bounced. Seeing her notice pinned up at the campuses cafe, he’d reached out to her with no idea they’d still be besties so many years later. From memory she had an older brother who was as much of a nerd as she was, while her mother and her father both worked in some private sector. He’d met them once over a family dinner Pidge dragged him to, seen them half a dozen times on their front steps as Pidge fled from their parental yelling, and finally been stuck in a very awkward conversation with Pidge’s father, Sam, when he’d found Bae-Bae, the missing family dog who Pidge had brought along on one of their ghost hunts

“Tonight. We’ve got permission to start once the museum shuts for the day. The tour starts at 8, so we’ll go in, set up, have something to eat, then scare the shit out of them at 8”

“You didn’t tell me it’s tonight!”

Poor Hunk. His poor heart had no time to come to terms with this. His worrying only made Pidge smile wider

“Relax, it’ll be fiiiine. Lance is coming with us. He’ll protect you from anything spooky”

“Why do I have to protect you? What are you going to do? Sue the ghosts for giving you the heebie-jeebies? Sorry, that’s not my specialty”

Pidge slid her glasses down to the tip of her nose as she puffed her chest out

“Ha, he, ho, I’m Lance and I have a fancy law degree! Those ghosts better think twice before looking at me”

Lance laughed way too hard, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, his black frame glasses nearly falling off. Pidge pushing her glasses back into place as Sal brought over Lance’s pancakes and coffee. The man simply placing them down before backing away without a word

“Oh my god, Pidge. That was awful”

“It wasn’t that awful. So, Hunk, you’re in snacks for the night. Lance is in charge of driving, and I’m in charge of the tech. What are we forgetting?”

“That we value our lives and don’t really want to do this?”

Pidge sank lower in her seat, a soft thud coming as Hunk gasped in pain

“What was that for?!”

“Being a chicken”

“I’m not a chicken”

“Are too...”

Picking up his fork, Lance calmly cut in on their fight

“Children, don’t make me seperate the pair of you. Hunk, you’re big, brave, and very manly. Pidge, you’re so fucking short you couldn’t even covertly kick him under the table. If we’re going out, I need to stop by home on the way. Blue needs her wet food for the night, and no, she’s not coming tonight. It’s going to storm as it is”

Crossing her arms, Pidge slumped back in her seat

“You just want to keep my Princess all to yourself. Hunk can leave his car here and we’ll take yours”

“I thought my house was too far away to visit?”

“It’s not when you’re the one driving. Hurry up and finish your pancakes, I wanna go already”

Lance looked down at the forkful he’d been about to load in his mouth, purposely cutting the stack in half to annoy Pidge. Scoffing down Sal’s pancakes was an insult to the man who’d made cigarette ash in pancakes edible. The lack of hygiene may have been another reason why the locals stayed away, but when you’re immortal, standards kind of went out the window

“Laaaaance. Nooo. What are you doing?”

“Enjoying my breakfast. Order another coffee... actually, order some warm milk, I can see you practically vibrating from the amount of caffeine in our bloodstream”

“I’ll have you know that the level of blood in my caffeine stream is just fine. Plus, you’re like the only person in the world who enjoys Sal’s pancakes!”

“Oi! I heard that, Katie Holt!”

Pidge ducked down further in her seat at Sal’s voice. A couple of regulars laughing at her embarrassment, as Pidge blushed

“Now look what you’ve done”

“Not my problem, Pidgeroonie”

“Watch your back, I’m going to get you tonight, then steal away Blue”

Lance shrugged, unfazed by her threat. Tonight would be another lame arse tour under the belt, the most exciting thing they could expect was some jump scare.

[lk-ramblings]

Carpe Noctem

Seize the Night

Meral x Aydın

MenajerimiAra

"I want movement, not a calm course of existence. I want excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I feel in myself a superabundance of energy which finds no outlet in our quiet life."

-Leo Tolstoy

* * *

Her thumb hovered over the number, only to be used in case of an emergency.

Well, this qualified as an emergency in her opinion. Dicle had not responded to her texts for an hour about whether she had reached Barış or not, and worry was clawing at Meral's insides. She decided to call.

'Merhaba. Aydın? This is Meral.....Dicle's housemate."

A low chuckle sounded at the other end. "Merhaba. Yes, this is Aydın, Barış's brother."

"I know who you are."

"And I know who you are."

She rolled her eyes. " Harika. I was just calling to ask if Dicle texted you or......" she trailed off, suddenly realising how awkward this was. Damn it. She was never anything less than sensible.

"Not since I texted her the address. Is there any problem?"

"Yok. Yok. I just worried since it's quite late and the neighbourhood.....well they must be talking and she forgot."

"Hmm. Yes. Talking. Probably."

She had the feeling he was laughing at her and bristled. " Well, thankyou. Sorry to bother you. Iyi geceler."

                      *     *     *

He could imagine her derisive look, the one he had seen her wearing when talking about Beren. The idea of her rolling her eyes sparked something in him and made him want to snatch the opportunity.

"Wait-"

"Yes?"

"Um....." he did not know what to say, and he was sorely out of practice with conversing about anything other than work. "Your concern for Dicle is very touching," he finished lamely.

There was silence on the other end and he could not really blame her.

"Well...thankyou I think? I hope Barış feels better and comes back soon," she sounded sincere in her goodwill and it warmed his heart, as anything related to Barış always did.

"Yes, InşAllah. I met him today, he's doing better now."

"Good to hear..."

"I was wondering, if you wanted to meet up and discuss? Barış and Dicle, yani. Or general things. Actually more of general things. Since, New Year's was fun and...."

Silence again. He was just about to make sure the call had not dropped, when she spoke, "That sounds great. Where do you want to meet?"

His heart gave an excited thump." Wherever you want."

"Oh, I have a great idea," he heard the smile in her voice that already had him looking forward to tomorrow with a new excitement.

                      *     *     *

Her favourite restaurant was roaring with white noise, the air perfumed with spices. Her mouth was watering and she was already anticipating the pleasure the meal would bring to sate her growling stomach. Even her great love of food was not enough to occupy her thoughts entirely, though.

She was nervous and excited; wondering if they would still have the connection she felt at the New Year's party. It was hard to determine what he felt from the few glances they managed to exchange at parties. Her imagined conversations, however, kept being interrupted by the couple arguing right behind her booth.

She sighed. She was just about to turn around and jump in their quarrel, when he arrived.

Meral had convinced herself that her years of romance and dizi infatution had embellished her memory of him. She had taken extra care dressing up, all the while telling herself she was being silly. Neyse, what had all the effort on that doomed Singles Party been for? Only a single glance?

She did not need to worry or dress up, she reassured herself. It was just a pair of acquaintances meeting. It could be fun even.

The reality of him exceeded her memory. He was snug in a crimson sweater, bold and festive; his hair and face shining from the outside cold. He looked brooding in a dangerous sort of way and she was suddenly glad she had gone to the extra effort.

But then he smiled and Meral was forced to consider that smiles always won over broody pouts.

"Hoş Geldin!"

"Hoş Bulduk. Pardon, did I keep you waiting? You seemed to be frustrated when I came in."

"Ha! That wasn't you." She leaned forward and lowered her voice- motioning to the booth behind her- and he did the same." I was about to join in their fascinating discussion about stocks and resolve the issue for them. As an unbiased third party."

"Ofcourse, because you are an accountancy expert."

"No, because I'm incurably nosy."

He barked a surprised laugh at her.

"Do you often get involved in things that are none of your business?" he said, trying to match her tone.

"Unfortunately, no. That's Dicle. I always gather information but only get in fights that are my business. And I win." She sent a quick prayer of thanks for the loud couple for kickstarting their conversation.

"Öyle mı?"

"Aynen."

"Speaking of Dicle, how is Kiraç Bey doing?"

"Much better!"

"Good to hear. Geçmiş olsun."

"Sağ ol."

She was just thinking they were in danger of lapsing into an awkward pause, when the waiter arrived to save them from it.

"Hoş Geldin. Meral Hanım, the usual?"

"Yes, please!"

"You come here often? I'll have what the lady is having then," Aydın said, closing the menu.

"Yes, I love this place. It's so close to our home too," she continued after the waiter had left. "You're sitting in our special booth, actually."

"Whose?"

"Dicle and mine. We always sit in the same place everytime so the staff practically has it reserved for us."

He smiled but then a teasing glint came into his eyes, "Same place, same order. You don't like new possibilities?"

She could not believe he had hit close to her vulnerable spot so quickly. Half of her wanted to welcome the exploration, delighting in someone trying to know her. The other half, the dominant, ever-sensible one wanted to retreat.

"I do. But there's comfort in familiarity. Honestly? I've realised I would thrive in a communist setting."

Aydın laughed, spluttering, the glass of water raised midway." You say the oddest things."

The pleasure of making him laugh made her glow and she relaxed. "If I have too many choices, it’s my fault if I make the wrong one. But if decisions have been made for me? Not only can I complain to my heart's content, but I also feel like I have triumphed against great odds in the struggle to become the independent woman that I am."

“You see odds in everything? I see now why you chose this job." He was regarding her with respect and curiosity. The combination made her feel heady, wanting to let her guard down.

"Why?"

"You get to calculate odds and meddle with everyone's business on a professional basis.”

It was her turn to laugh in surprise.

                       *     *     *

As they ate, they talked about everything from history, to food to dizis, the conversation darting in different directions. Meral could see his quiet intelligence, his attention to detail. She could not remember simply enjoying talking this much before. He had a ready response to everything. Words and laughter were bubbling inside her.

"I better warn Barış. You've watched too many serial killer movies and would leave no trace."

"You can relax. He's not on my hit list yet."

At his devious smile, she pointed at him with her fork. "For now. He's on my good side for now."

"Don't worry, he's a true romantic. He would never do anything that would get him on your hit list."

Her face softened into a smile, "He really his."

"You know, sometimes I feel like I'm their Teyze."

"Barış and Dicle? From a hitman to a teyze?" he grinned at her.

"Yes.Yani, I cook and clean, which I love to anyway. But then being the unwanted third wheel living in her children's house, I leave quietly once I know he's coming over."

"Oh well, I'm the teyze in our house then. You know when- " he stopped at her burst of laughter. "What?"

"I'm sorry- I just-" she said between gasps, "imagining you as a cranky teyze is- actually that's a pretty good description."

"Oh, you think so? As I was saying," he said in mock affrontery, "after Barış got shot, he was trying desperately to be alone with Dicle. But-'

He was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out and she joined in aswell.

He gathered himself and began again," But every single person we know other than Dicle was appearing at our doorstep. And, you remember, Celal Bey? He brought a mountain of food over. And then when Dicle was finally coming over, what did Barış do? Beyeffendi handed me a couple of boxes and told me to disappear."

"How cruel."

Their laughter gradually faded into comfortable smiles. "That man eats like every meal is his last meal," Meral said.

"Evet, but who does not enjoy food though?" he said with a pointed look towards her just to see her reaction and earned an olive in his face for the jab.

"Ow! How do you know how Celal Bey eats anyway?"

"I saw him. At the TV dinner? In the restaurant you recommended?"

"What?"

Her subconcious writer, which had been busy penning their story, suddenly deflated at him not even remembering their first meeting. What hope did a romance have when one party did not even remember the meet-cute? And since when was she considering this a date? Or a romance?

She shook her head and focused back to the present. His expression was serious now, devoid of all the teasing warmth.

"Yes, I remember. I'm sorry you had to see me that way. That wasn't my best behaviour."

He gazed out the window. Meral was dying to know more, to smooth over the lull in the conversation but afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Finally he met her gaze, having made a decision. "I've always been practical all my life. Had to be. Barış and my father are quite hot tempered and.....impulsive, so I was mostly making the money, holding down the jobs. Keeping the job and the peace. I don't apologise for doing what had to be done."

"Tabi canım, you don't have to explain to me. Pragmatic is my middle name." she agreed easily, yet touched that he had shared some small part of himself.

'To doing what needs to be done," she raised her çay in a toast. He smiled and some of the light heartedness returned.

"I understand that life is more than making money and looking attractive. I know I pressured Barış- even got into a fight with Dicle," he glanced at her embarrassed.

"Growing up, our mahalle just reinforced that a happy life is the type of life that photographs well. I know this isn’t true- now- but it’s hard not to think this way. I’ve internalized it."

"I know." Her voice was soft and sincere, easing some of his discomfort. "That's what our lives have become these days. If only we remember to live the moments that we love to photograph."

"Evet. How right you are."

"And this isn't off the back of some truck. This is my own wisdom." She was grateful to see him smile again.

"Gathered during hours of repetitive work. I sit in that room each day, half my mind on the numbers, half in my infinitely more adventurous world."

"You call that repetitive?! I would love that! The assurity of routine."

He sat back with a sigh. "I had so many jobs, never knowing when one would end. Mesela, my current job with Serkan Bey? I finally know some part of what each day brings."

"But don't you miss the excitement of new things?"

"I guess I would thrive in a communist setting too, Meral Hanım. But this sector already has so many new weird things happening everyday, it's never the same."

"Oh you're a veteran of 'this sector' now?"

"Absolutely. Ha! But truly I.....feel like I belong? Actually, Serkan helped me in a difficult situation and I ended up here. I realised I actually enjoy it. I find I have a talent for organising. And persuading and cajoling. Although, if you listen to the whims of all these people! You come across some complete- well I shouldn't say but- Even more than what I met as a taxi driver. I-"

He stopped and seemed to gather himself. "Just glad I have security. The comfort of certainty."

Meral was fascinated hearing him talk, his eyes lit with keen intelligence. She wished she could revel in the comfort he described, but lately she felt stuck in a rut. She had told him she did not like choices but that was not true. She yearned to take chances. Her life had become a collection of the same days, same nights out with the same people. This evening was the only thing breaking the endless monotony.

"I bet you have great stories to tell though. I love listening to stories. We get absolute weirdos at our place aswell but it's ultimately boring. I live vicariously through Dicle."

"I think we should stop talking about them as if we're the side characters."

"Yani?"

"Yani novel falan filan. We keep talking about Barış and Dicle. We should focus on us a little, I think."

His voice had dropped at the end, his eyes on her felt like a caress. Meral could feel something tugging at her to explore this new territory, to take the chance she kept telling others to. But, imagining something in your head was vastly different than having that play out in real life. She fell back on her customary sarcasm.

"Ah, novels. I see I've already corrupted your practicality. 50 points to Ravenclaw."

He had been giving her a lazy smile but groaned at her words. "You're both 'Potterheads'?"

"I thought we weren't talking about them."

"We won't. Because I don't know where to even begin about this. We watched the movies when we were younger, but apparently that's not enough and Barış has been trying to get into 'the fandom'." His voice was a mix of exasperation and affection.

She cried out in mock outrage trying to hide her glee, "Did you just air quote again? And ofcourse that is not enough. I'm glad he is on the right path."

'Neyse. And before you say anything, yes, I know I'm a Slytherin.'

'Oh absolutely," she laughed at his disgruntled form languishing in the booth.

'Ee?'

She raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"So how did you get into the wonders of accounting. I've been spilling all my secrets to you and you give nothing away. Hadi, don't make me take out my truth potion."

"Tsk, tsk. Banning magical discourse and then indulging in it yourself? Shameless."

His quick smile seemed to seep into her.

"Lütfen ya, give me something here. You mentioned you shifted to Istanbul?"

"Yes I did. But that is a story for another day. It's getting late. I think the owner might be coming to personally throw us out."

Her humour just kept surprising him anew; he could not remember when he had last laughed so much.

                       *     *     *

As they walked back to her house, he noticed her slowing slightly. "Are you tired?"

"Biraz. My soul wants to party but my body is of an old woman."

"And what do old women like doing at night?" he cringed at how it sounded.

"Well it's winter so, we drink hot chocolate wrapped in blankets, and avoid people."

"Well people are sources of warmth aswell." Damn. There she was, throwing out words in bright clusters all night, like the gentle snow falling around them.

And everything he said was coming out like an innuendo.

"I mean, figurative warmth. The pleasure of company."

She just raised her eyebrows and hid a smile behind her hand.

"We revel in solitude."

"I didn't know you were that eager to get away from me."

"Oh, you have no idea."

"I think I have some idea." There was something about her, that just made him fall into this teasing, snappy rhythm.

"But we've only met twice. That's not enough data points to form an accurate picture."

"We have met more than twice. And you're doing this on purpose aren't you?"

"What?"

"Mentioning data points now that I've confessed my love for organisation."

Her laughter rang out in the hushed street.

The snow was falling around them gently, giving everything a glittering glow. Her impish face was turned upto his, the snowflakes in her hair like diamonds and dissolving on her lips.

He had the sudden urge to taste that snowflake, run his tongue along the seam of her lips.

Something inside him held him back. He was afraid it was too soon. Afraid to burst this, whatever magic they had between them, just as it was beginning.

Meral could see the moment he decided to forego kissing, the fire in his eyes cooling as they returned to their normal lazy depths. Keen disappointnent burned inside her but was chased away by the still buzzing energy that had been between them all evening.

This evening had already proved to be much more than her normal. An outlier. She wanted to capture the bright feeling, like a firefly; bask in the light for a brief moment and then let go.

"Thankyou. It was..." Unique. Comfortable. Thlrilling, all at once. "Fun. I enjoyed spending time with you."

Surprisingly, her shyness made him bolder. "Me too. I would love to do this again." She looked up. "If you want to, I mean."

"I wasn't angling for an invitation."

"I know. But it stands regardless. I would love to do this again." He could not believe he had managed to get that out without tripping over his words.

The tentative smile on her face made him add, " I must prove I'm the ultimate teyze between us. I'll cook for you."

"Şaka?!" she gave a delighted laugh. "Well then, let the Battle of the Teyzes commence."

When he took her proffered hand, their was a slight shock, as if their bodies were completing the circuit, that energy finally finding a closed loop.

"O zaman, iyi olan kazansın," he said softly.

"Iyi olan kazansın."

"Iyi geceler. Meral." he said, finally breaking the handshake.

"Iyi geceler." She went in and turned at the doorstep. "Aydin."

His name on her lips, materialising in the cold air for a second.

He smiled that slow smile again. An outlier. An input that could start new trends, open new possibilities, change everything.

                        *     *     *

[suchalovelydisaster]

The King- a Sanders Sides Fanfic

What was Creativity like before he was split in two parts?

Link for ao3

Words: 1898

Terrifying. Inappropriate. Unwanted. Intrusive. Disruptive. Creativity replayed these words in his mind several times over. It was not uncommon for him to be shot down every once and a while by the other sides. Most commonly, these words came from Anxiety. But now these insults grew more frequent and became more attacking in tone. Goddamn Anxiety. He might as well be called ‘paranoia’ with the way he treats Thomas.

Anxiety’s presence had become more and more prominent over the last few years. By the age of fifteen, the King believed he held more sway over Thomas than any other side. Despite Logic doing his best to overrule any negative feedback that was presented by the other side, Anxiety worked his hardest to make Thomas feel more alone than ever before. Now, the King of Creativity must do his best to work Thomas out of this grave Anxiety has dug.

As he used his skills to aid Thomas in conjuring fictional worlds, he found the other side would retreat into his room. When the King would exercise his rights to fully take over. He could send Thomas into daydream mode and allow him to be free of whatever would trouble him.

Daydream mode, however, sometimes came with side effects. Once daydream mode began to fade out, toward the ends of Thomas’s day, vivid nightmares would occur. As Anxiety was able to re-emerge into the mind palace, the visions of fairytale creatures would morph into horrific alternate versions of reality. Realities in which Thomas did things that would have dangerous consequences. Visions where Thomas hurt those he held dear and had always been kind to him. Fear and paranoia would take the wheel and lead Thomas into late-night spirals that were difficult to escape.

As the night would go on with Thomas losing precious hours of sleep daydream mode could finally fully dissipate. Leaving the King vulnerable to whatever criticism he would soon face. The sides could finally retire to their rooms after Thomas finally fell soundly asleep. But sometimes the King would overhear things said by the other sides.

“I feel terrible for the poor kid, honestly.” He heard Morality say once. “He can escape for a little while and is then thrown into a spiral of terrifying visions.”

Terrifying, The King thought. Morality thinks what I can do is terrifying. A rush of guilt came flooding over the side. His purpose was to be Thomas’s creative center. He was supposed to help Thomas, not become a hindrance to his everyday life.

He flashed back to a time when Thomas was quite young. Elementary school, you would write a story and illustrate it. Thomas was never excellent at drawing but, as The King of Creativity, he would try his hardest. The details of the story were fuzzy to him but he remembered an illustration of Thomas electrocuting one of his older brothers. The King had imagined it as a funny joke, which is what Thomas’s classmates saw it as. Unfortunately, Morality did not see it that way. The King was told that it was inappropriate and terrible to even joke about hurting a loved one.

Despite this warning, years later, Thomas would be faced with nightmares worse than what his innocent third-grade sketches could ever predict. The thoughts of performing a heinous crime that he had read about in a crime-novel or speaking about his deepest secrets to those who would use it against them. Fear of alienation would stop Thomas from speaking about what he thought about.

Soon, a day would come when Anxiety would approach Creativity after a daydream mode experience gone awry. He had said to the King, “I heard Logic use a term to describe what happens to you toward the end of your little brainstorming sessions,” He had begun. There was a harshness in his voice, he also sounded mildly taunting, like he was going to say something the King wouldn’t like. “He called them Intrusive Thoughts.”

Intrusive Thoughts. The King looked at the darkly dressed side in front of him. “What does that mean?” He had asked. He knew that, if it were important enough for Anxiety to tell him this, these words did not have pleasant meanings.

“To my knowledge, the word ‘Intrusive’ means something along the lines of disruptive or unwanted.” Anxiety replied, his voice was eerily calm.

It was disconcerting to see the side that was responsible for Thomas’s fears speaking with such a mild tone. From an outside perspective, it was obvious Anxiety was trying to get under Creativity’s skin. From the perspective of the King, it was working.

“Take that as you will, your Highness.” Anxiety shrugged and walked away from Creativity. Leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Anxiety’s words ran through the King’s mind for a long time. Even as he prepared to go to sleep, the remarks haunted him. Now, as Thomas faced another restless night, so did the King of Creativity. As time passed, the King heard the other sides express their concerns about Thomas’s wellbeing. They blamed Creativity for the ways Thomas’s mind would sway to writing something unpleasant or dark. They would tell Creativity that they needed to have positivity and happiness in order to cancel out the effects of Anxiety’s fear. And despite some very good brainstorming sessions in daydream-mode, there was also the stray few that would end in disaster.

Intrusive...disruptive...unwanted. Anxiety’s words, once again, ran through his mind. The King was now feeling shameful and guilty about how he was trying to help Thomas. This time was different from the others, however. This time, the feeling was not gone in the morning.

As the sides began their days, the King woke up still feeling guilty about the night before. He began growing afraid to engage in daydream mode for fear of the consequences. This, however, left both himself and Thomas feeling worse than usual. Soon, his only form of escapism for Thomas was gone. He began growing more distant from the other sides and was unconsciously isolating himself. His insecurities began to get the best of him. There would be times when he would duck out entirely, in order to avoid judgment.

Thomas’s imagination was stuck in a slump. Normally, he was incredibly creative and could write a story with ease. Writing was one of the ways he escaped his anxieties and the rest of his troubles. Now, he was stuck in a place where he couldn’t think of anything to write and was falling deeper into his fears and worries.

One night, the King had come out in order to alleviate Thomas’s stress, after a particularly difficult day. He had hoped that emerging in dire circumstances would lessen the chances of things going wrong toward the end of daydreaming. The King saw the look of surprise on Logic’s face as he asked to enter daydream mode. He never asked for permission, however, he had thought that asking for permission would be less disruptive.

Everything was seemingly going according to plan until daydream-mode began to fade out. Thomas’s ideas of drafting villainous characters began to shift into thoughts of himself as the villain; wreaking havoc on the relationships he had worked so hard to build up.

As Creativity saw what was happening, he panicked and retreated into his room. He abandoned daydream mode without hesitation. Leaving the other sides to deal with the aftermath of another disaster. As he disappeared into his room, the King broke down. He heard the words of the other sides running through his mind. Terrifying. Inappropriate. Unwanted. Intrusive. Disruptive. The King paced back and forth throughout his room. Thoughts were rattling inside his brain.

Am I hurting Thomas? How can I get rid of all of these horrific ideas? I can’t keep putting Thomas through all of this. What is the point of trying to help? Would it be better for everyone if I just was gone for good? His mind raced with questions and fear. How ironic, the King thought. I have now become the anxious and insecure side.

With that thought, the King collapsed to the floor. Gripping at his bedframe for stability, began to sob with his thoughts becoming even more frantic. What is wrong with me? How do I fix this? How...? Why...? What...?

Without any warning, he was enveloped in darkness.

He was alone, standing by himself, in a void. His head was ringing and he felt like the world was spinning around him.

“Get rid of the bad creativity.” He heard his own voice echoing throughout his mind. “Fix yourself.” It now echoed.

Suddenly, the King felt a sharp pain go through his entire body. Almost as if he was being ripped apart. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

He was still surrounded by darkness, thus causing the pain to be even more concerning. What is happening to me? The agony continued, as the colors of red and green flashed in his vision causing him blacked out again.

Two boys woke up on the floor of the King’s bedroom. One dressed in white with a red sash. The other dressed in black with a green sash. The looked at each other with the same fearful expression.

“Who are you?” They both asked at the same time.

“I’m Creativity.” They both responded. They both talked about the memories that they had leading up to that point. The pain and then waking up to the sight of each other. They talked about who most likely represented good creativity and who represented bad creativity. They decided that they were twins and a result of the King’s breakdown.

“Does this mean that we’re both the King?” The side in black and green asked.

“I think I’m more of a prince now,” the red and white side responded. “Since neither of us is fully the King anymore.”

“Well, if you’re a prince the I’ll be a duke!” Exclaimed the boy in green and black.

The Prince decided to call himself Roman. He decided that the Duke would be called Remus. Their names were similar to the twins Romulus and Remus, in Roman myth. Because the prince represented “good” creativity and Romulus was who Rome was named for, the prince decided that Roman was a good fit.

As time would go on, Roman would become the prized brother. He was “Good Creativity” after all. Remus became rejected, taken in by Deceit, and the other sides that were considered to be bad or harmful to Thomas. The Prince seemed to forget the trauma that caused the King’s split. The Duke, however, would harbor those memories for a long time after being shut out by the “good sides.”

Later in Thomas’s life, Anxiety would become one of the “good sides” too. The side that caused Creativity the most pain before the split. Soon, Remus would grow aggravated by the amount of attention Anxiety was getting by the good sides. As Deceit would also make more frequent appearances in Thomas’s decision making, Remus grew more fearful that he was becoming the only rejected side left.

Remus decided that sooner or later he was going to get the attention he craved. He didn’t give a damn if he was considered a “bad side,” he just wanted to be heard and have his voice be listened to. He decided to use his own daydream mode.

[advernia]

fic: to be cold like alleyway cobblestones

— just one of the many joys of being young and murderous. - mafia!au: of the things people do in the dead of night.

1: contains death + violence; the former's depicted in one scene only + the latter's all non-graphic, but still tread lightly.

Where are you?

It's not like you wanted to be here, it's more of you had to be here. Yes, here of all places, surrounded by piles of boxes and barrels and warehouses of years know how old. To be drenched in fog and to breathe in the seawater air, rusting copper and thick smoke that passes through your nose now clinging to the back of your throat.

Somewhere in the darkness and under the sickly yellowish lighting there's the shuffle of clothing and thump of shoes on cement. How many are there, it's hard to tell. Your eyes and ears aren't trained for this sort of night life. In fact, not a single part of you is. Maybe that's why you feel even smaller than ever, even when you're standing by in your best leather boots.

It is 10:32 PM.

What is going on?

To be fair, you were expecting this kind of reception. All of you were. That's why there are holsters secured on both sides of your waist and a little bomb nestled in your jacket pocket. That's why you made sure to secure your own copy of the map to drill all the curves, nooks, and crannies of this whole area in your brain hours before the negotiation was to take place. They told you that the memorizing isn't necessary, but you'd like to think that you know better so you practiced 'better safe than sorry'.

Turns out that you're right, and you'll be using that knowledge way earlier than you expected.

It is 10:58 PM.

How did this happen?

Your side could use the classic 'we tried' defense. No, it wasn't a lie or a joke, not even in slightest. You were paying close attention to the conversation, getting all those details in your head while doing your best to observe the surroundings and the non-verbal communication flying about. Gritting of teeth, crossing of arms, stiffening of shoulders, curling of fists. Ah, this wasn't looking good. You can practically feel the air growing stiffer by the minute.

Then some genius pulls out a gun.

It is 11:27 PM.

Why you?

You're stepping on spilt blood, hold the weight of triggers in your hands, hear gurgling cries with the crunching of muscle and bone as accompaniment, and breathe in touches of sulfur and death. You're a pretty thing standing in the makings of a morgue with your skin still unscathed and limbs in all the right positions, eyes able to see and heart still beating. So maybe, just maybe, that's why.

That's why someone's running towards you at full speed, screaming hell's wrath with teeth bared and the sharp tip of an iron blade aimed at your chest.

Shit, a familiar voice hisses. Others follow, but you can't hear what they're saying and suddenly everything's a blur too. The sentiment is fitting, you think. Shit. You're no statue, but your feet are rooted to the ground and you forget how it is to breathe. Shit. Your attacker's coming closer and closer and he isn't stopping for no one, not for you or for anyone else. Shit. Your shaking fingers manage to curl around something solid, and for a moment you think yourself going mad when you actually feel comfort in the touches of cold metal against your skin.

Shit.

When your arms lift themselves up, two barrels are able to take aim.

Shit.

The man and his knife are about to step into your personal space.

Shit.

Your fingers pull at the -

                          Oh, your lips shake.

It is 12:01 AM.

It is 12:01 AM, and you just killed someone.

                    ........................................................

                    The third bout that leaves her mouth has lesser chunks and is now mostly saliva. They leave her mouth in lengthy trails, drops falling down, down, down.

Doubled over with her head between her knees, she gasps repeatedly for more air than she really needs and more that she can release in grave huffs. It's almost like she's reminding herself how it is to breathe while emptying the contents of her stomach. Inhale, exhale. Through the nose, then out again. She figures that she must look all sorts of pitiful, some strange girl huffing and puffing with her body dangerously close to the pier's edge.

And while she's watching the remains of her lunch mingle with the sea, the world around her still goes on. Of course it does, because time is not so kind and sensitive enough to stop for every unfortunate soul struck with the impulse to throw up. If it did, then maybe she would go about slower in trying to breathe and getting rid of the acid in her mouth. If it did, then maybe she wouldn't start worrying about the impending blare of police sirens echoing faintly in her ears.

When something warm - a hand - rests on her shoulder, she raises her head slowly before turning it around.

The first thing she sees is a gloved open palm offering a handkerchief. It is pure white. No crease, no fold. The sight makes her lips purse, teeth gnawing at the insides of her cheek. She takes the cloth anyway, with the reluctance of someone who doesn't want their hands to get burned. It's ridiculous. She's ridiculous.

She lifts her head for whoever took pity on her. The ends of her lips pull upwards, urging the shape of a curve. She hopes it looks natural. It feels like it is.

For her efforts, green eyes smile back at her. It's still dark and the lighting around the place is still dim and sickly and the fog doesn't make visibility any better, but she knows those eyes. Most people just call them green, but personally she likes calling them mint. The color, the herb, the taste. A calming cool pastel, a blooming verdant vibrancy, a rush of a fresh sensation in the mouth that lingers long to carve its name on the tongue.

Not too chilling, too cold, too spicy, too menthol-like. There has always been something familiar about those small eyes that has become soothing to her.

"The others have gone ahead. We need to leave too," he whispers. The hand set on her shoulder squeezes gently before moving over to touch her arm. "Can you stand?"

She nods, fingers wiping away the tears that had formed in the edges of her eyes before the handkerchief dabs at her mouth.

"I'm fine," she tries to say, smoothing her voice into something convincing. It doesn't work because the consecutive throwing up session had her throat now running dry and empty. Another thing empty. No food and energy and melody left in her and all that's left behind is a horrid ungodly cross between hoarse and mechanical. Grating and lifeless. Skin, muscle, and blood for a shell but nothing inside. Not the least bit human. Who's going to believe her now?

Even her legs quake when she tries to stand. How embarrassing, her own body won't even listen to her. She's thankful for the hand that keeps her steady, it takes hold of her arm and weight into stride and lifts her up to her feet; not letting go till she's ready and standing upright. The hand goes as far as to smooth the stray strands of her blonde hair back in place, tucking locks behind her ear and keeping them away from her eyes.

How nice. Maybe now she's a bit presentable.

"I can carry you back."

"W-wh-what? Oh no, no, it's okay. It's nice of you to offer. But I can walk, I promise."

A low hum, the peer into her eyes that leaves little space to speak of in between two faces.

"... I'll hold onto your hand to be safe. Is that better?"

Well. Still a bit embarrassing. But maybe she should listen to her shaking knees and stop being stubborn for once.

There wasn't much of her pride worth salvaging right now anyway.

"... All right, then."

                    ........................................................

                    Car rides can sure brew fun conversations.

"So about the one you killed - "

"The one she shot," the sudden correction is hostile, and it's quickly met with a pointed snort that follows with the turn of the wheel. The van tilts sharply to the left, and through her slightly lowered window, an angry chorus of car horns trumpet their way in.

Watch where you're fucking going, shitty asshole, goddamn kid and other curses also reach her ears.

So much for safe driving.

"Four bullets to the torso, four bullets to the neck - what else is a man going to be but dead after that barrage?"

The facts are laid out by a voice that brought to mind those of television news show reporters: neutral in volume, plain in pitch and timbre, objective in content. She could hear it now: this just in - unknown assailant shoots a middle-aged man multiple times, flees the scene immediately and leaves victim bleeding to death on the pavement; more details after the break. Her eyes turn up to the rearview mirror, finds the driver's gaze away from the road and instead set on her. Silver irises make for pretty jewelry but also sharpened knives, a dangerous mix of allure and pressure. She can't handle it and opts to look away, her insides twisting themselves into knots.

She thinks he hears him laughing.

Beside her, a hiss. "Just because this sorry excuse of a van isn't ours you decide to drive like the ruffian you truly are, how predictable. If you keep going recklessly, we're bound to catch unwanted attention."

"If you wanted to drive so much then you should've said so in the first place, stickler. The police aren't that stupid to prioritize a speeding ticket over a distress call, now are they?"

"Shame on you to assume that there's an extent to stupidity."

The banter would continue to go on without her help so she leans her head against the window, gazing at the scenery outside. A street never dead despite the early hour, cars constantly passing through. Beggars making themselves small in between the crooks of alleys. Drunkards stumbling about the sidewalk. The occasional salaryman making their way home. Teenagers in groups or adults on their lonesome. Bars and convenience stores flashing their bright lights.

Still the same as ever.

"Clean them."

The stern voice pulls her out of her head, and she sees something land on her lap - it's a long strip of cloth and on top of it a thin bottle, transparent liquid sloshing about inside. Right, how could she forget: her hands go to the holsters on her waist and she pulls out her revolvers, cringes a bit when she sees the splatters of dark red across the front sights and barrels.

Ah... those must be dry by now.

She takes the bottle, about to pop it open -

"Again, don't forget to unload them first."

Despite herself, a soft laugh escapes her lips. She glances at him; he who never missed all the small details, he who constantly reminded her of the same thing during these nights. He's watching her with an eyebrow raised, maybe wondering why she hasn't followed his instructions yet.

He's still the same as ever too - it's oddly comforting, in a way.

"I know," she says with a wry smile.

                    ........................................................

                    When the waves of police cars have gone far far away, they leave their getaway van in some unassuming convenience store parking lot space.

Upon their arrival at the city's center, they split into two groups. Group A reconvenes with the rest of the team; Group B goes back to base.

When they drew straws, she considered being part of Group B a stroke of luck, but -

"So like I was saying earlier, the man you killed..."

They're taking a short break on a park bench, and his sudden quip has her choking on her 250 lin bottled water and it gets everywhere: around her chin, across her shirt, down to her pants. She looked embarrassing, that's for sure; and of course he decides to act like a true gentleman by sitting beside her wordlessly as she tries to get through the worst of her coughing fit, just staring at her with obvious interest.

No pats on the back, are you okays, there, theres - just the chirping of crickets, quiet rustling of leaves, and his soft laughter ringing in her ears.

"Still jittery, huh?"

"If you knew, then you shouldn't have said that in the first place...!"

"Good point."

She flashed him a scowl before letting out a few more coughs.

"Why," she starts a few seconds later, voice warbling at the edges, "do you keep mentioning that man?"

"Oh, just to serve as a usual reminder. I'm sure you know that if you didn't kill him in time, then you would've died."

"... I know."

"You say you do, but it still doesn't give you any satisfaction, doesn't it? Especially for someone like you."

She inhales sharply, hands wringing themselves together on her lap. His pointed emphasis on her state didn't offend her much, possibly because she accepted it to be the truth for some time now: get over it, she told herself multiple times. It comes with the job, it's natural, she sung to herself. You did what you had to do, it was unavoidable, she cried to herself. Those were just the beginning of the many words she'd use the first time, the second, the third, then so on and so forth until she had pushed herself into a cycle of guilt; the next unwanted experience breaking her down just as easy, just as vicious and relentless like the first time she felt blood drown her hands.

It's a terrible, terrible, such a terrible feeling; to be thankful that you took someone else's life just to be able to live one more day longer. To understand that to live; you must plunge a knife on someone's chest, shove poison down their throat, steal the air out of their lungs, and rain bullets on their body.

Eyes close themselves tightly, teeth dig harshly into the insides of the mouth.

If she could wail to the heavens, she would.

... Just where did it all go wrong?

                    ........................................................

2: cleaning tumblr drafts, i stumbled on this and tried to find its main file but... it??? doesn't??? exist??? this was a shame to scrap entirely, so i patched it up the best i could... ran out of steam come the ending tho....（´＿｀） 3: i remember aiming for a no-name drop kind of thing, so i tried my best to hint at who is who solely through description! in order of appearance, alice's companions are mousse (pier scene + hostile corrector), dean (alice's seatmate in the van scene), and dalim (van driver + bench scene) - idk if i managed to pull it off, but dean really got the short end of the stick since his scene's the shortest aha....

[awonderfulwolfyworld]

defying expectations (e.c)

request: Hi! Can I please request an Embry x Shy!fem!reader imagine where Y/n is Bella’s younger sister, & she goes with Bella + Jacob (& Bella’s friends) to La Push Beach, sits on the beach by herself. Embry &the pack come to the beach, &notices Y/n, & feeling his stares, Y/n looks back, makes eye contact with him, which he then imprints on her. Feeling the pull to each other, Y/n gets up & walks to him (surprising her shy self). She accompanies him back to Emily’s, where he explains everything to her.

word count: 948

pairing: embry call x fem!reader

warnings: none

Grey consumed the earth, blanketing the sky and concealing the once blue expanse from the eyes of onlookers. It was far too cold to be outside, let alone at the beach, but I had always found it so hard to say no when Angela gave me those puppy dog eyes. Jessica was suiting up with the boys, getting ready for a surf in the water that I had no doubt was be freezing, when Jacob approached. I flash him a quick smile, before retiring my attentions to Angela’s binoculars for some whale watching. I could see Bella’s eyes trained on me, almost silently begging me to have more interaction with her best friend, but I just couldn’t make myself do it.

Jake was nice, almost unbearably so, but he was Bella’s friend not mine. I had always struggled with making friends, always struggled with approaching people or getting outside of my comfort zone. Unfortunately fo me, almost everything was out of my comfort zone.

“Y/N, come for a walk with us!”

Bella calls out for me, Jacob standing by her side as always. I duck my head at the sudden attention as all heads turn to me the sudden noise. The pink rises to the surface of my skin as my face flushes with embarrassment. I scramble to reach the pair and escape the unwanted attention. The conversation between Jacob and Bella ventures into territory that is out of bounds for me, and as they discuss their budding relationship and complications I sip behind to trail behind them. A glimmer in the sand catches my attention. The shell glistens, even in the dim lighting, and despite the pressure of stones digging into my knees I kneel down to collect the gorgeous item. Thoughts run through my mind of Turing it into a piece of jewellery.

“Are you coming?”

Bella cals out to me once more, and I glance up to find that they had covered a decent distance since I had become distracted. I shake my head meekly, opting to sit in the sand on my own than awkwardly third wheel. The quiet is soothing and exactly what I needed. Spending time surrounded by so many exuberant people drains the soul, all I really wanted was some alone time to recuperate.

Serenity drifted through the air as fast as a cool breeze, replaced by the raucous laughter of teenage boys. My eyes drifted toward the group on instinct, drawn towards one boy whom stood out from the rest. His hair fell over his eyes as he wind ran its fingers through the soft strands. His skin looked warm, his body invited, his smile blinding. My soul reached out for his, stretched its palm outwards in attempt to grasp what it had been searching for.

His eyes meet mine.

The world is quiet, though the laughter had not ceased and the company had not departed, the serenity had returned. I had a feeling that being with this boy, whoever he was, would be as easy as breathing. That painful squeeze in my chest whenever I spoke to strangers, the gasping for breathe when I find myself pushing through a crowd, the flush of my cheeks when all eyes are on me. He would ease all of it.

With no voices telling me otherwise, I stand from my space on the beach and cross the distance between us. The attention of his friends was on me now, yet I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not when he was so close. I’m so close, my heart is screaming and aching to just close the distance. Reminding myself he is a total stranger, I stop myself a few meters away.

“I’m Y/N”

He stares at me. Mouth agape, eyes blown wide. His friends snicker in the background, and suddenly all of my insecurities come rushing back.

Why did I do that?

With a sharp elbow to his ribs, the boy snaps to life.

“Do you want to go for a walk? I’m Embry, by the way”

It was simple, such an easy way to jumpstart this relationship. He leads the way, his broad frame protecting me from the heavy winds tearing down the shore. My eyes trail across his back, drinking in everything my eyes could see. He turns to look down at me, as though sensing my eyes burning a hole right through his back. I take in my surrounding, the logical part of me screaming to call Bella and tell her where I am, to tell anyone, because walking off with a total stranger is something taught from a young age. Somehow, I don’t feel afraid.

“We’re soulmates”

He blurts it out before he can control himself, a look of horror distorting his beautiful features the second the words escape his lips. I turn to leave, not understanding how I cold let myself be so naive, to wander off to an unknown house with a boy I don’t know.

“Wait! Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. Let me explain”

His words fall on deaf ears as I continue on my path back to the beach, no longer willing to listen to the words of a madman. He may be cute, but he’s crazy. The cracking of bones makes me whip my head around to face him. Were he once stood was now a 5 foot tall wolf, head bowed in submission, a whimper escaping his mouth when he finds the fear in my eyes.

There was no way.

“Embry?”

The wolf nods slowly, cautious not to frighten me. An uncontrollable laugh escapes my mouth as I gape in disbelief.

“Ok, explain away, Embry”

[marshmallow-phd]

Sins of the Father

Genre: Mafia Au

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: Soon after your second birthday, your parents were killed and you were adopted by your father’s best friend, taken away to their home country where you lived your life in peaceful ignorance. As far a as you knew, your parents simply left you large fortune to be released to you once you reached your twenty-third birthday. At least, that’s all you thought you were inheriting. When a famously ruthless mafia boss discovers your existence, you are left at his mercy. While under his roof, you learn more about your father than you ever wished you had, including the part of your inheritance that made you the most valuable person in the underworld. Hidden in a bank in New York City were files that held the darkest secrets of the mafia families and everyone in their pocket. With another terrifying leader’s eyes trained on you, you’ll learn to watch your back… and guard your heart, before your father’s past becomes your doom.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I 16 I Final

**

You didn’t get to have that insightful dinner with Mr. Martin. Junko insisted on leaving for Korea right away and the jet was ready to go before the sun began to set on the horizon. Less than twenty-four hours you’d spent in the one place you could have really been able to know your parents, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be sorry about it. Hopefully, you’d have another chance in the future. If not, then that was just your fate.

Over and over, your father’s words echoed in your mind. The way his eyes softened when he told you that he loved you, that you were the most precious thing in the world to him. If anyone else had told you that he’d said that, you would have laughed in their face. There was no fathomable reason he would feel that way about you.

And yet, you’d judged the man too quickly. You’d made assumptions about someone that you never knew, who worked so hard to bring you into this world. The only way you could right your thoughts and make it up to him was by fulfilling his last request: to not let Junko get ahold of the files.

Right now, as you pretended to be asleep, Junko was pouring himself over the fake files by the dim overhead light from the jet’s ceiling, ignoring the beautiful sight of the darkened sea below. He took in every word like it was the holy script, murmuring unintelligibly to himself, marking certain key phrases and paragraphs with a red pen. Eventually, you drifted off to the sound of fluttering paper.

You were awoken rather roughly when the plane landed back home over fourteen hours later. There was no gentleness as the bodyguards escorted you off the plane and into the waiting car. Junko said nothing to you, simply rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Apparently, he hadn’t gone to sleep at all, too obsessed with memorizing the details of the files that were now locked safely away in the briefcase by his feet to bother with the important human function. It may be a little petty, but you thought the least you deserved was a “thank you”. Threat or no threat, you still got him what he wanted. A little appreciation would have been nice.

You scoffed at yourself internally. There you were, pouting about not being thanked when you were planning on sabotaging him.

After you arrived back at the mansion, Junko split off from you, heading in the opposite direction of the bedroom on the second floor, briefcase in hand. Shaking your head, you kept on until you reached the bed. You collapsed on top of the covers, barely putting in the effort to remove your shoes before falling asleep once again.

**

You hardly saw Junko over the course of the next few days. The few glimpses of him you did get were just in passing, making him seem like a ghost haunting the hallways that you could only glimpse at from the corner of your eye. In a way, you were overly relieved that he was spending so much of his time absorbing the files in what room you could only guess was his study. You never woke up to him next to you in the bed again. If he was sleeping there beside you during some point in the night, at least you were never aware of it.

Even though you hardly saw Junko, his presence, the fact that he was still near, was always constant. The flash drive had stayed hidden in your purse. You’d through about putting the purse away, but thought better of it. If it was discovered, someone would be extremely curious as to why it was being hidden and most likely would go through it, ruining your golden hand.

Granted, having the flash drive was only part of the lineup. You needed to somehow get the drive to Junmyeon. But you were locked up in this stupid mansion, eyes watching you whether they were obvious or not. Servants and guards were constantly in passing by or glancing your way, taking in every move you made. Reflecting suspicion would be hard enough given your lack of poker face without you also trying to play super spy.

This morning at breakfast, however, you might have been given your chance.

“Junko wanted me to inform you that he’ll be out of the house most of the day, but will join you for dinner tonight.”

Looking up from your breakfast, you noticed Quan – one of Junko’s favorite guards – standing at the other end of the table. While he may have been high on Junko’s list of trusted associates, he had been a bit kinder to you than the others. Sure, that margin of kindness was slim, but a little could go a long way in your book.

You nodded. “Thank you, Quan.”

He bowed his head and left the dining hall.

The wheels in your head began to turn as you forced yourself to slowly finish up your breakfast. Scarfing it down might raise the alarms, sentencing you to your room before you’d gotten your chance. A weight was now gone, giving you a lighter feel as you thought about your next course of action. During the day, you’d usually waste away in front of the TV or walk around the pool in a pathetic attempt at some exercise. But now you could explore. Not out of wonder, but in order to find a possible computer or office where you could think of your next step. Getting in touch with Junmyeon might still be difficult, but you had to try.

Plate finally empty, you rose from your chair, and left the dining hall, a maid servant rushing behind you to clear the away the mess. Back in your room, you dug through your purse, fighting the urge to look over your shoulder every five seconds. With the flash drive now in your hand, you flipped it over continuously, contemplating where to hide it. Then you put it in the one place you knew you could get away with. The plastic poked at your skin, but it was perfectly hidden under your loose blouse, held in place by the cup of your bra. You cringed a little at the fact that you’d slipped it in there rather than your pocket, but you needed it in a place that couldn’t be seen even just by a glance.

You knew your time was limited. However, you still had to take it slow. Hightailing it straight to the study would get you in hot water. So, instead, you wandered the halls, poking your head into different rooms, pretending to just be exploring and familiarizing yourself with the house. You did this for about an hour or so, nodding to the maids as you passed them by, even stopping by the kitchen for a quick snack. Then, you gave in.

The door to the study squeaked as you slowly pushed it open, the hinges crying out desperately to be oiled back to perfection. Your heart was holding onto all your nervousness, releasing it only enough to pound in your ears. As quietly as you could, you walked across the thick carpet towards the imposing desk. No personal items decorated the area, making it seem more like a display at a furniture store or showroom rather than the office of a mafia leader who was proud of his family.

Slowly, you lowered yourself into the leather chair and turned to face the computer. Your jaw dropped.

The screen was open to the desktop, no locks or screensavers to prevent any unwanted eyes from skimming through its secrets. Was this a trap? Would Junko really leave himself vulnerable like this? He had to have turned off the sleep mode in order for it to still be up like this. Or the computer was recently used within the last fifteen minutes. But who else would have been in here?

You pushed the thought away. Right now, you needed to focus on sending the files to Junmyeon. Unfortunately, you didn’t know how to do that. There had to be some way to send it to his phone using only his number, right? Thank goodness you’d taken the time to memorize his number in case of emergencies.

You started to click on the internet icon to try and find a way to do that when a folder caught your eye labeled with your last name. Logic would have told you to hurry and find how to send the information to Junmyeon and then click on the folder. But logic hadn’t driven your actions for a long time.

Double clicking to open the folder, you were met with rows and rows of saved emails, screenshots, and even a few voice files, presumably from phone calls with your father. You clicked on one of the emails lower on the list, dated a few months before your parents’ death. Skimming over the paragraphs, you concluded that your father was wanting to back out on his deal with Junko’s father involving you marrying his son.

She’s my little girl, Lee. I watch her grow every day. I want her to live life the way she chooses. If she chooses Junko on her own, for good reasons, then I’ll let her go. But I prefer for her not to be involved in this life. When I look at her, I see all the possibilities, all the paths she could go down. I can’t limit her to a life of standing next to your son, surrounded by bodyguards and never able to go about how she pleases. That’s not a life. So, please, reconsider. I’m begging you.

Underneath that was simple, one sentence reply.

Deals are meant to be kept or there will be consequences.

Your father was one hundred percent right to be weary of the Lees. There was no doubt that Junko’s father meant his little warning.

That should have been where you stopped. That should have been where you closed the file and found a way to Junmyeon’s phone. But you didn’t. Because at the very bottom, the very last little square had that telltale triangle in the corner. What footage was being held behind that icon?

The curiosity was too strong to fight and you opened the file. It gave you one last chance to turn around, but you clicked play anyway.

Before you on the screen was footage from an old surveillance camera pointed at an intersection. Everything was fuzzy and age showed through the simple black and white images, but you could still recognize your parents standing under the streetlamp, waiting for the crosswalk signal to turn and allow them to continue on their way. It was dark, late at night, like the night your parents died.

As soon as the walking man was glowing, your father started to walk your mother across the way. Out the bottom of the screen, a black car zoomed into frame, striking your parents down and hitting them hard enough to send them flying back several feet. You gasped at the impact, trying to quiet the noise with your hand as you watched in horror.

After coming to a stop, the man in the car stepped out, walking casually over to your parents and checking each of their necks for a pulse. Satisfied with his work, he turned, waved at the camera and drove away scot-free.

They were murdered. Just like your father had assumed in his video. There never was a drunk driver who got scared and ran away. It was all deliberate. The man who you were now forced to live with was the son of the man who took your family away. Was that your curse? To constantly have your family, your safe space taken away from you by the Lee’s? Would you ever truly be free of them?

“All choices have consequences. Some a little harsher than others.”

You gasped and turned in the seat.

Junko was leaning up against the opened door, inspecting his fingernails. How did you not hear that squeaky door with his arrival?

“Your father was warned about what would happen if he went back on the deal,” Junko said, as if he were talking about a child being scolded for stealing a cookie from the forbidden jar. “He made his choice.”

“I am not a piece of property to be bargained with,” you spat. “And your father was a monster that-”

Junko charged forward, pushing your chair back until he hovered over you, a hand on each armrest to lock you in. Fear pulsed through you as his eyes bore down into yours. They were filled with fire and if you weren’t careful, you were going to burn up into ash.

Through clenched teeth, he hissed, “You don’t know anything about my father. He is the only reason that you even exist. Maybe you should learn from your father’s mistakes and be grateful for that fact.” Straightening up, he exited out of the folder and sighed. “Too bad you couldn’t pass my little test. Now you’ll have someone with you at all times. Especially at the party tomorrow night.”

“Party?” you gaped at him. “What party?”

“Oh, just a little function for the different families. A place for business deals and negotiations. I’ll have a dress and shoes for you tomorrow afternoon that I expect you to wear. Until then, perhaps you should just stay in our room, hm?” He headed out for the door, stopping just before the hallway to throw over his shoulder, “And remember: you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

**

Junko kept his promise to keep you locked up in his room. Breakfast and lunch were brought to you on a trays, though you couldn’t really bring yourself to eat much of either meal. Your brain was too focused on what Junko had said. This party was supposed to be for the “families”. Being well versed in their lingo by now, you knew he was talking about the different mafia groups.

Which meant Junmyeon might be there.

Junko had warned that a guard would be on you at all times, but if the venue was crowded enough, you were sure you could manage to get away. The real trick would be getting the flash drive to the party in the first place.

When the dress and shoes arrived around one o’clock, you started to sweat. It was very much a dress meant to show you off, like a freaking trophy. Its golden chiffon cloth was shaped to cling to your every curve, the back fully exposed, the thinnest of straps holding it all together. You were already dreading having to wear it. But a little relief was granted when the maid said that the hair dresser wouldn’t be around for another few hours, giving you some more time to prepare.

There was nowhere in the dress for you to even think about hiding the drive. Your saving grace, however, was the shoes. Rather than the stick thin heels you’d been expecting, the dress came with a golden wedges. An idea that definitely was stolen from too many spy movies formulated in your head. Taking one of the heels, you shut yourself in the bathroom, searching for your razor. It was a struggle to break the plastic apart without cutting yourself, but eventually you got the blades free and turned to the shoe.

Slowly, you cut away at the bottom of the shoe, over and over again in a rough rectangle big enough to hold the drive in place. Soon enough, you were able to break through into the hollow space. Perfect.

Now rummaging through the cabinet under the sink, you pulled out the one box you were sure no one would ever think to look in. Before you moved in, a maid must have remembered that you would need certain products and had them stocked in the bathroom for you. While you hadn’t needed to open the box for that specific bodily function yet, you did find it handy in hiding the flash drive. It was an easy switch from the box to the wedge and the bottom was staying securely in place.

You barely made it back in time to pretend that you were just looking at the shoe when the hairdresser and her assistant – the same ones from your wedding day – entered the room without even knocking. You obeyed each request they had, closing your eyes when they asked, stopping your fidgeting when it became too much. Before you knew it, the torture was over.

Junko simply gave you a once over as you descended the stairs, approving with a curt nod before lending you his arm and escorting you to the car waiting outside. Apparently, the idea of being a happy couple in love – or maybe you just being a submissive wife – was beginning to fade from Junko’s mind. Or maybe he just had other more important things on his mind. Either way, you were happy as he left you alone to your own thoughts on the ride to the venue.

Secrecy was not a priority this time around from what you gathered.

The “party” was being held in one of the grand hotels of the city, valets waiting patiently outside to direct the drivers on where to park the cars while the guests were let out right in front of the grand stairs. Junko was quick to jump out of the car, rounding it to help you out as well. Neither of you smiled or acknowledged any other patrons as you ascended the stairs and entered the hotel.

The ballroom occupied the entire twelfth floor, even sporting balconies on each side. Over a hundred people were already milling about the space, chatting and sizing each other up in small gatherings as they sipped at the drinks in their hands. Junko dragged you from group to group, introducing you as his wife and smirking when someone recognized your name. Yes, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, but if you had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t have much to brag about for too much longer.

While Junko was feigning laughter at an older gentleman’s terrible joke, your eyes were scanning the crowds, searching desperately for Junmyeon. Then your heart sped up.

Towering over a majority of the crowd was a familiar crop of firetruck red hair.

Chanyeol!

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from screaming out for the gentle giant who’d promised to keep you safe. As much as you wanted it, him marching over here and snatching you away wasn’t the brightest move. Besides, you wanted – no, you needed to see Junmyeon.

One by one, shuffling through the crowd, you saw each of the boys, save their leader. None of them were talking or laughing with the other families. They seemed more like zombies, just wandering the floor, careful not to bump into anyone. Where was-

There!

You barely caught a glimpse of Junmyeon sneaking out onto the left side balcony. You needed to get to him, but how did you lose the guard whose eyes were glued to the back of your head?

Cradling your lower stomach, you scrunched your face up as if you were in pain. “Junko,” you whispered, adding a groan into your tone. “I don’t feel well.”

“You’re not going home,” he hissed quietly, still maintaining the welcoming smile on his face.

“Just five minutes in the bathroom,” you pleaded.

His eyes flickered to one of the guards and then he nodded. “Fine. Five minutes.”

Quan ended up being the one to follow you to the bathroom. Any warm feelings you’d had towards him were long gone after he lied to you about Junko being out of the house. But you didn’t run away from him, keeping close until you reached the women’s restroom. It was located in a small enclave near the back of the ballroom, out of the way and easily hidden. You watched Quan back up so he wasn’t blocking the narrow entrance from others who wished to use the wash rooms before pushing open the door.

Once alone, you didn’t know what to do from there. You needed to hurry before Junmyeon left the balcony and your chance was missed. Then your opportunity came in the form a group of women who all entered the bathroom at the same time, laughing about their wonderful luck in dates tonight. You stepped out of the way as they took over the mirror space, primping and fixing their hair and makeup, which wasn’t out of place to begin with from what you could tell.

When they were done, you made your move.

Crowding in as closely as you could to them, you tried to blend in and go unseen as you all exited the bathroom. Walking past Quan without your name being called or pulled out of the group seemed to mean that it worked.

Once you were far enough away from the restrooms, you split off from the group, squeezing through to the other side of the crowd until you reached the same door that Junmyeon had passed through. He was still there on that balcony, leaning his forearms against the railing as his head hung low from his shoulders.

“Junmyeon!” You couldn’t stop yourself from running towards him. At the sound of his name, he turned around, shock dropping his jaw and widening his eyes as you threw your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. But while you held your vice tight around him, he never lifted his arms to hug you back. Looking up at him, you frowned. “Junmyeon?”

Composing his face and releasing a heavy sigh, Junmyeon gripped your arms and gently pushed you away. “What are you doing here, (y/n)?”

You pulled your eyebrows together, unable to understand why he was acting this way. “Junko brought me, probably to-”

“I didn’t mean here at the hotel,” he interrupted. “I meant out here? You should be inside with your husband. He wouldn’t want other people to talk.”

Was that what this was? An attempt to avoid arousing attention. Shaking your head, you took off your wedged heel and pulled out the homemade compartment. “Listen. My father put the real files on this drive. He had fake files made, the ones I gave to Junko. You can take this drive while Junko thinks he has the real ones. That should give you plenty of time.” You held out the small plastic device for him to take, but he didn’t.

His eyes were down on your open palm, his face unreadable. When he finally met your own gaze, he said, “Go back inside, (y/n). Junko will come looking for you soon.”

You dropped your hand to your side. How could he act so distant all of a sudden? “What is going on with you? I’m trying to give you what you’ve wanted this whole time. To help you. Did he… do something to you?”

“A man recognizes when he’s lost, (y/n).”

“You haven’t lost!” you yelled. “Why are you giving up?”

“Because he knows it’s useless.” Junko walked up behind you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you in close. With his other hand, he forced your fist open and took the drive, giving you a kiss on the cheek before putting it away in his pocket.

Junmyeon stayed stone face through the whole thing. “Congratulations, Junko.”

“Just like school, Junmyeon,” Junko purred. “Some things never change. I’m glad to know you’ve finally learned that.”

Taking a few steps forward so he was now nearly shoulder to shoulder with you, Junmyeon whispered, “Just accept the hand you’ve been dealt. Perhaps, it was always meant to go this way.” Leaving you with that, he walked back inside.

You tried to turn around to go after him, but Junko kept you firmly by his side.

“Quan?” he called out. “Take (y/n) home. I think everyone here is now fully aware of the power I hold.”

With a tight grip on your arm, Quan pulled you away and back into the ballroom. He didn’t glance at you once as he all but dragged you out of the hotel. You huffed when he put you in the back seat of the car, crossing your arms.

You were so confused. What happened to all those promises to protect you? To always come for you when you called out to him? Were they really all so empty? Were they the true definition of sweet nothings? You’d put so much faith in him, relied on the fact that you thought he would come to your rescue. Never would you have imagined that he would just stare at the physical manifestation of his ultimate goal. The goal he’d originally took you in for. How could he let it go so easily? How could he let you go without so much as a fight?

As soon as you were alone in your room, you shuffled over to the window, still in a daze. The moon shined down from the cloudless sky, giving you enough light to see by. You fell down to your knees, staying like that for a second before shifting back so you could bring your knees up to your chest.

And I promise you this: whenever you ask for me, I’ll be there.

You scoffed. “You’re a liar, Kim Junmyeon.”

The tears began to flow down your face and you didn’t bother to try and stop them. Instead, burying your face in your knees while the world that you thought you knew came crashing down around you.

[imagineslashers]

Can I request jealous slasher boys?

Of course you can! Here it is, enjoy! I enjoyed writing these angry boys, hehe. xx

Jealous Freddy

Not a good situation. Freddy likes to pretend as though he doesn’t get jealous, scoffing and ignoring his s/o with whoever it is dares to flirt with them. He turns away, but can’t help constantly shooting glares over his shoulder. However, it seems innocent enough until the poor idiot touches his s/o. Enraged, Freddy breaks something in the near vicinity and storms over to his s/o. He grips his stunned partner by the collar and kisses them very passionately, flipping off the invader until they leave the couple in peace.

Jealous Jason

As it is in his nature, Jason isn’t a man of many words. He notices very quickly that his s/o has been captured into a difficult situation, caught between a wall and another person hitting on them - quite badly at that. Jason sees red, he tilts his head and wonders what his mother would tell him. Stop that idiot, Jason. He doesn’t have to think twice about that. It’s quite unfortunate for anyone who happens to get in the way, Jason’s sheer size and anger makes him an immovable wall as he shoves his way to his s/o. If the mask and machete weren’t frightening enough, Jason lets rip a loud growl. He doesn’t need words to make his point clear and he’s tempted to go after the invader who takes off running, but he has more important matters to attend to. Jason picks up his s/o and promptly leaves with them.

Jealous Bubba

Bubba is generally very sweet, he is always very supportive and trusting of his s/o, but he does not trust the sudden stranger who is clearly making his s/o uncomfortable by shamelessly hitting on them. Bubba senses the mild distress of his s/o and a sound of anger leaves him. That’s not okay, his s/o is his, and should never be made upset by some stranger. Bubba grits his teeth, walking with slow purpose towards the pair, his boots thudding loudly. If the intruder doesn’t get the message from the heavy footfalls, the square set of his shoulders or the glare in his eye, then the pointing will do. Bubba gestures to his s/o, then to himself, and makes his point very clear. Needless to say, he holds his s/o by the hand very tightly and leads them to ‘safety’ - in other words, his embrace.

Jealous Michael

Hell hath no fury like Michael when scorned. Watching his s/o be hit on by some nobody makes him incredibly angry, but he won’t react at first. Michael prefers to watch coolly, though his muscles are tensely coiled and his fists clenched. His breathing is laboured, of course, and his shoulders tremble with the effort of each ragged breath. He keeps thinking the same words over and over again. Mine. Mine. Mine. Though he can normally keep himself out of such silly disputes, Michael loses his mind when the intensity of the flirting becomes just so that it tips him over the edge; his s/o is uncomfortable, and that is the last straw. Making heavy footfalls, Michael approaches the invader and draws back his fist so fast that nobody could have seen it coming. With a sickening crunch, the intruder loses the structure of their nose and Michael’s s/o is dragged away behind the fuming slasher.

Jealous Billy

Billy likes to play games at times. He might even flirt with someone else to try and get the attention of his s/o, constantly glancing at them and then pretending like he doesn’t care that his s/o is being flirted with by someone who is clearly not Billy. When he’s had enough of being the third wheel, Billy gets very petty. He spills drinks on the unwanted guest, nudging them accidentally and stepping on their feet. It’s a silly ploy, but it starts to annoy the intruder. Finally, when they’ve had enough, they confront Billy and fall right into his trap. Now, in his mind, Billy has the perfect excuse to get someone else bloody because technically he didn’t start the argument! Billy takes joy in slamming his fists into his competition until his s/o starts pulling on his arm. Billy pulls back, swipes his hair to the side, and smiles like an angel. “Ready to go, now, baby?”

Jealous Stu

Perhaps one of the most physical confrontations in a very different way to the other slashers. Stu wastes no time, he zeroes in on the situation and immediately places himself behind his s/o. His arms encircle his partner’s waste and he rests his head on their shoulder. It’s all very casual, he doesn’t even interrupt the conversation between the intruder and his s/o, but he continually fixates them with a cold, bitter stare whilst drawing little patterns on his s/o’s abdomen. Stu amps it up by pressing kisses to his s/o, along their neck and jaw, pausing only to mouth the words ‘I’ll kill you’ to his competition, adding an empty grin whilst his s/o remains oblivious, wondering why the person they were talking to suddenly became very pale and had to leave.