#yes my camera IS bad. my phone is several years old and too broken to charge with a lightning cable

[willowcrowned]

went to see the elf orpine today

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (un)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior

the mysterious, age old town of ichabod. within it rests a history hidden from its inhabitants, who are forced to remain there out of fear. you simply wish to live in this town with the people you love without facing its wrath for as long as you can. unfortunately for you, there are great powers on your side who are willing to do whatever it takes to get you. whether you come willingly or not. after all, it only takes a little hellfire

——————————————————————————

“Come along now, (Y/N).” Your mother’s grip on your wrist tightened as she all but threw you in front of her. You nearly twisted your ankle on the twigs and tree roots that outlined the forest floor. “We are late enough as it is.” 

You huffed and tore your wrist from your mother’s hand to hike up the long, white dress you wore. “Good. I wish we didn’t have to trek out here in the middle of the night every month. Maybe we’ll miss the gathering entirely.”

She smacked your arm harshly. “Not another word from you, smart mouth.” Your mother dressed similarly, the only difference being that her ivory dress paled considerably compared to yours in the moonlight. “We’ve been attending for years. I highly doubt that such a change would be allowed, much less appreciated.”

You shivered at the thought. No matter how much you resented these meetings, you wouldn’t dare miss a summoning.

You stayed quiet for ten more minutes, taking in the rustling of the forest and focusing your efforts on avoiding sharp rocks underfoot. 

Trees rested on either side of you, lining your path and blocking out any natural light with their twisting, sneaking branches. It took all of your effort to ignore the oppressive silence, broken every so often by the snapping of a trig or the movement of some animal, cloaked by shadows in the dark.

Soon enough, you and your mother reached the clearing.

She pulled you back just as you were about to step into the moonlight, throwing a dark cloak in your face. “Are you mad? Put it on!”

You smiled abashedly and threw the material on. The hood was so long it cast a shadow over the lower half of your face but was wide enough for you to see.

Your mother finished arranging her hood and the two of you stepped into the clearing, joining with the last of the circle of cloaked shadows.

The moon shone brightly without the cover of the forest giving your surroundings an ethereal facade. A wooden stage lay at the very middle of the clearing, upon which stood your small town’s resident royalty.

The Kims. 

They were the ruling force of the town, the husband being the mayor, the wife a successful actress. They both settled down in Ichabod twenty-five years ago with their children. What had once been a town amuck with violence and chaos was transformed into a prosperous, well-functioning borough.

How the Kims managed to transform the area nearly overnight, few knew. They have run your city for nearly three decades. And everyone in it is terrified to cross their path.

Directly behind them stood their seven adopted sons, faces shrouded by hoods and masks. You didn’t know too much about them besides their names and faces; five of them currently attended your school and you made sure to give them a wide berth, being as polite as possible.

Kim Moonsik raised his left arm, twisting his wrist in a full circle. He then pointed his hand at the sky, gently lowering his pinky and middle fingers. “Greetings to the moon from her earthly servants.”

You lifted your forearm with everyone else, copied the gesture, and repeated the phrase quietly with disinterest.

“I thank you all for coming on such short notice.” He continued. “As another month commences, we have the pleasure of standing before you all. The moon has graced us with her everlasting beauty and prosperity rains down upon our small town, just as it has for decades before.”

This is usually the part where you would start drifting off. Kim Moonsik could drove on with his speech about the moon for far too long.

About what felt like an hour but was approximately fifteen minutes later, Mr. Kim trailed off and the forest became so silent, you hushed your thoughts in fear of thinking too loud.

The oppressive feeling in the air returned full force and you shivered underneath the warmth of your cloak as Mr. Kim eyed each and every person attending. He was not able to directly see your face, but you felt like the man was staring into your soul.

“Regrettably,” He said, clasping his hands together, “we are not able to part tonight without the moon’s divine punishment.”

Ah, you thought. There it is.

The reason your heart pounds at every one of these meetings. 

All you wanted to do was be that half-asleep little girl again, clutched in your mother’s arms as she trudged her way here every month. 

“Wylynne has decreed that there are sinners in our midst.” Mr. Kim says it quietly, but the gravity in his words travel.

And with a mighty roar, the pyre behind the wooden stage was lit with orange flames. 

The crowd stood in silence, waiting for the dreadful sound. You quaked in the dirt. Would it be you this time? 

But by the grace of the moon, no. 

The telltale, piercing shriek came from the right side of the crowd. Citizens rushed to get away from the teenager cradled in her parents’ arms. The mother could not let go of her daughter, heavily sobbing as the child clutched her head and continued to scream. Her hood had fallen off and your eyes widened as you recognized her.

Natalia Pierre. The two of you had had some awful confrontation a few months ago. Nevertheless, the resident embers of anger could not stop the overwhelming pity you felt as the Kims’ men ripped her away from her parents.

“Please!” She cried as they forced her to her knees before the mayor. Not that she wasn’t already bent over, riddled with pain. “Knives-the knives won’t stop, please get them out!”

Kim Moonsik lay his hand on her shoulder. “Do not worry, my child. You will soon join Wylynne’s heavenly army. May your failures be a lesson, victories a reward, and may your soul live on with the moon forever.”

“May your soul live on with the moon forever.” You whispered the last phrase with everyone else, ignoring the tear that made its way down your cheek. 

Before Natalia could say another word, her screams were cut short as her body was engulfed in purple fire.

It only took a second. Within minutes, her cloak, dress, bones, and ashes were gone. She hadn’t even scorched the grass. You could almost believe you’d dreamed it if her father wasn’t kneeling next to her writhing mother in the dirt.

Mr. Kim smiled gracefully, a sight that reminded you of the grim reaper with the shadow on his face. “To her heavenly grace, the moon, may she travel. To my fellow citizens of Ichabod, I bid goodnight.”

The orange flame behind the stage was doused. You, your mother, and the crowd bowed your heads as you wished goodnight to the Kims. It was only when the last son had left the clearing did anyone else begin moving.

You clutched your mother’s hand all the way home.

---------------------------------------------------------

Since before you could remember, your mother had been dragging you to Ichabod monthly town meetings. It was the Kims’ way of ensuring the people that the moon continued to bless and favor them and would send prosperity their way in return for a sacrifice. 

In short, they were trapped here and if they wished to keep their lives, they would know better than to cross the Kims.

The people that had tried to run away all failed. They would either, depending on the “grace of the moon,” show up alive right back where they started, or their bodies were placed on the front doors of relatives or neighbors.

Now, you weren’t stupid. You did not believe that it was the actions of Wylynne or whomever Mr. Kim spends his nights singing praises to. The fatal injuries were always exterior, therefore it must have been nothing other than the work of man.

Nevertheless, you were too afraid to risk leaving Ichabod. You preferred to live your life quietly, holding on to your closest friends and family. And it has been successful for the past years.

The next morning as your mom drove you to school, you used your phone’s camera to check your appearance. There were bags under your eyes, so heavy that makeup would not be enough to cover it.

As she drove, you sighed heavily and thought back to last night, wondering how Natalia could have possibly angered the Kims. She never tried to escape--at least, to your knowledge--and she never talked to them at school either...

Your mother pulled up to the curb and you stuffed your phone into your uniform pocket, kissed her on the cheek in goodbye, and closed the car door.

Ichabod Academy, the resident school for all children born and raised inside of this town. It ran from first to twelfth grade, in several different buildings, and made for quite the large campus for the size of your town. The buildings looked quite dreary from the outside with its gray walls and glass doors, most of the lights inside still off.

 It was comparable to the size of a small, inner-city university. Everyone knew everyone, for the better or worse. 

You walked to the upperclassmen building, entered your first class, and lay your head on the desk. 

Usually, you would be able to get at least four hours of sleep the night after a summoning, but last night you barely managed to achieve two. 

Natalia...she wasn’t a bad person. She made mistakes, yes, but she was human above all. 

“(Y/N)?” You heard someone gently ask. You pried your eyes open to see your best friend.

“Hey, Mana.” You yawned. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than you, clearly.” They snorted and dropped themselves into the seat in front of you. “I couldn’t believe...”

You watched them tiredly as they failed to speak their words. “I know.” You finally whispered back.

The teacher walked into the room with a student trailing behind her and you immediately sat up, warily eyeing them both. “Good morning, class. Today we have a new student, transferring from another section. Please introduce yourself.” She motioned.

As if he needed an introduction.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Kim Jimin. I hope that we can get along and have a great year. Please take care of me.” He bowed slightly.

Your class chorused greetings and you balked slightly as you realized that the only empty seat was...

“You can take the seat next to Ms. (L/N). (Y/N), please raise your hand.”

You put your hand up and Jimin waltzed over to you with the biggest smile. He placed his bag on the floor next to the metal leg of the table. “Hello, seat mate. I hope we can get along.”

You sent a small smile his way--though it may have looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, me too.”

---------------------------------------------------

The bell rang for the break and you immediately slammed your notebook shut and dropped your head onto the desk.

Jimin giggled at your side. “Did you not sleep well last night, (Y/N)?”

You groaned out a “no”.

Mana turned around slowly and gently poked at you. “It was emotionally taxing for both of us, I think.” They said and smiled at Jimin. “I’m Mana, (Y/N)’s close friend.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” He stated. “Emotionally taxing you say...may I ask why?” 

You lifted your head. “Mana, and I used to be good friends with the tribu--girl who was chosen last night.” You quickly corrected yourself. “Then she got involved with this guy...”

“We told Natalia he was no good news, from the very beginning.” Mana interrupted. “But she insisted that he was different with her and kind to her. Then a couple of months into their relationship he has her smoking, drinking, sneaking out to have sex-”

“And it’s not that these things are bad,” you continued. “Like it was her life and she could do what she wanted as long as she was safe, you know? But she wasn’t like that at all before. To see such a drastic change...”

“Next thing you know, he’s spreading her private pictures across the entire campus.” Mana’s fist clenched and you put your hand on theirs to relieve the anger. “We tried to talk to him about her and he was always rude to us, dismissing us off-hand and insulting Natalia behind her back. (Y/N) tried to confront her about his behavior and Natalia fought her, saying she was just jealous of them.”

“After that, we lost touch with her.” You said. “But I would give anything to go back and speak to her, or just apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mana fumed. 

“The power of Wylynne is divine and just.” Jimin commented as he stared at you and your friend, unblinking. “She must have taken Ms. Pierre into her celestial army to spare her from facing the punishment of her earthly crimes for the rest of her life. She always has a reason, after all.” 

Mana looked at the table awkwardly. “Yes,” they said, “praise Wylynne.”

You nodded.

“(Y/N)?” Jimin looked at you expectedly. You weren’t familiar with the weight of his gaze, but you quickly learned it wasn’t something you were trying to get accustomed to.

“Praise Wylynne.” You said, flashing another grimace-smile.

Jimin’s eyes disappeared as he smiled and the bell rang, signaling the end of break. 

——————————————————————————

As the bell rang for lunch, Mana practically yanked your joint out of the socket with how quickly they wanted to leave the classroom. “Come on, we should try and get some food in is before next period.” On the way out, however, you couldn’t help but notice Jimin pulling out a plastic bag that contained a series of containers. There was one large plastic container that had what looked like a main meal, accompanied by four smaller containers that held side dishes.

Jimin sighed forlornly at the pile and you felt a touch of pity for him. Before Mana could drag you out the room completely, you tapped them, gesturing with your head at Jimin and making puppy dog eyes.

They sent you a look that clearly questioning your sanity, but you rolled your eyes in return, gesturing once more to Jimin. A couple of seconds of staring later, Mana allowed you to drag them back over to his desk. 

“Hey Jimin,” you gently approached him, “why are you eating lunch in the classroom?”

“Oh...” his face drooped even more. “...My little brothers and I would always stay behind while everyone else left to go to the cafeteria. We found it uncomfortable to enter that place when everyone would just go quiet and speak around us in whispers....I guess it was just a force of habit.”

You nodded in sad understanding on the outside but sighed in the back of your head. Of course people would avoid them. The Kim children were abandoned out of fear and respect rather than any overt effort to ostracize them.

Before, Jimin was probably accustomed to eating with his brothers Taehyung and Jungkook, but this morning’s schedule and class adjustment ripped the three apart.

You put a hand on his desk, wanting to show comfort without crossing borders. “Well, Mana and I would love to get to know you better as a classmate, or friend... you’re welcome to sit with us if you want?”

Jimin’s eyes widened, glistening with moisture. He snapped his head up, cheeks rosy with a hopeful blush. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude...”

“You’re not intruding! Come on, I’ll grab your bag for you.” Jimin rushed to pack up the containers. He took his bag from you with a smile. “Thank you both,” he whispered.

Walking through the relatively empty school halls with a Kim gave you a sense of confidence you didn’t need. You walked in a line, with you betwixt Mana and Jimin. All the students that saw you widened their eyes and bolted to the side to make way. It wasn’t because of you or Mana--you knew this--but the feeling made you uncomfortable.

It was powerful.

When you all arrived at the cafeteria, you tried to enter inconspicuously by piggybacking behind some tall classmates but it failed miserably. The moment Jimin was spotted, people indeed stopped talking and the room was engulfed in whispers. 

You gently took Jimin by the elbow, smiling at him assuredly, and directed him towards your and Mana’s usual table. It was thankfully empty, so you put your bags down and took your wallets out. 

“We’ll be right back, we’re just gonna go buy some food,” you stated, hearing chatter pick back up. Your best friend must have shot everyone their “mind your business” glare. Jimin nodded, neatly unpacking his lunch. Mana all but dragged you off.

“‘We’d love to get to know you better’? Seriously, (Y/N)! There’s a reason why people avoid the Kims! And you just openly invite one to our lunch table? Are you trying to become the next sacrifice?!” They harshly stage whispered.

“Come on, Mana,” you scoffed as you arrived at the lunch bar. “He’s been separated from his only brother in his class and trapped with a bunch of strangers. The least we could do is eat lunch with him. Don’t transfer the sins, or fear, of the parent to the child.”

Mana glared at you for a long while but eventually huffed out their agreement. “Fine.”

You payed for your food and walked back to the table where your new classmate was politely waiting. “Aw, you didn’t have to wait for us, but thanks!”

“Of course I had to! I should be the ones thanking you for being willing to sit and eat with me...” Jimin spoke ever so softly, looking down at the lunch table.

In this moment, it was easy to forget the fear that lingered from yesterday’s cold, dark night. It was easy to take the hand of the cherubic boy that sat before you and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Think nothing of it. We’re going to be doing this a lot more often, so please look forward to it!”

It was easy to forget the curve of his lip as he quickly hid an arrogant smirk, morphing it into his trademark angelic smile. “Yes, please take care of me!”

--------------------------------————————————

Lunch was quite awkward, as it was the first time the three of you had spent a meal together. You and Mana were used to speaking about anything and everything during lunch. You both especially tackled controversial opinions concerning the Kims and their vice-like grip on the minds of those in this town.

Clearly, in this case, that would not have made for clever conversation.

Jimin saved the discussion by turning it towards school, questioning you both on your favorite classes and teachers. If he was able to tell how religiously liberal you were, he was excellent at hiding it. 

He shared funny anecdotes of shenanigans he accomplished with his brothers, stories that had the three of you holding your stomachs in laughter. 

For the most part, you and your friend were relieved. Jimin was not nearly as terrifying as some of his siblings.

Time passed swiftly and before you knew it, the warning bell sounded, prompting people to throw out the rest of their lunch and swarm through the doors. 

You grabbed your and Mana’s tray, throwing the waste away as necessary and placing the trays on the counter, thanking the lunch lady that took them. Then you headed back towards the table, where the two awaited you.

Unlike the passageway that was fairly empty on your way towards the cafeteria, the halls were now teeming with students. They whispered non discreetly, taking glances at the three of you as you walked.

Mana grabbed your arm, letting Jimin go slightly in front as they pulled you back to whisper in your ear. “I could get used to the attention.”

They started snickered but yelped when you slapped their arm. “You wouldn’t be saying that for long. Think of how annoying the constant whispers would get. The Kims have to suffocate underneath all that attention.” You muttered back. Mana considered your words, eventually nodding their head in agreement.

Your best friend did not often have a gentle temperament. They would blow up at students fairly quickly--especially if they were whispering in their face.

The two of you reached the classroom, thanking Jimin as he held the door. Your classmates’ voices hushed and you internally sighed. If you hadn’t noticed their explicit cautiousness before, you definitely did now.

The teacher for the next lesson, Mrs. Hargrove, came in quickly after you, placing stacks of papers on their desk and shutting down conversation.  

“Good afternoon, students. I hope everyone had a great lunch.” Mrs. Hargrove’s appearance looked a little more frazzled than usual as she pushed her frizzy hair behind her ears and smoothed down her skirt, but no one made a comment on it. “Today, we’re going to be making an adjustment to our syllabus. Rather than have you all complete individual projects and two tests for semester, I will be placing you in pairs where you will complete a much larger research project with only one test.”

Some of your classmates sighed in relief while others groaned, and you all erupted into conversations. You didn’t mind completing an individual project, but the stress of research and choosing the topic would weigh on you for a while.

Mana turned to you, dread written all over their face. “We’re going to have to research? Kill me now. What topic do you think we should choose?”

You giggle at their dramatic antics but are swiftly interrupted by the teacher. “Actually, Ms. Waye, Ms. (L/N) will be working with Mr. Kim here...as they are seat mates after all.” Mrs. Hargrove glanced over to Jimin, almost as if she were looking for something in his expression. 

His face gave away nothing and he disregarded her with a stare. 

Mana sneered at the teacher’s blatant disregard for their pronouns, but Mrs. Hargrove paid them no mind, eyes blown wide open as if she’d seen the devil himself. She turned away, stuttering.

“You w-will all be working with your seat mates. I don’t want you taking up any class time to fight over who will be your partner. Now that we have an even amount of students in our class, it settles everything quite nicely. As for the chosen topic, I want each pair to research and present on a certain mythological creature.”

You smiled apologetically at Mana, who pouted and turned around to talk to their partner.

Mrs. Hargrove walked back up to the front of the class, handing out the stacks of papers with the required information for the assignment.

“So, (Y/N),” Jimin calling your name broke your attention from the teacher and you looked over at him. “What creature do you think we should research?”

“I’m not sure...but I kind of wanted to talk about a more obscure creature. We could choose one that isn’t as highly discussed.” You said excitedly.

“That’s a good idea! I’m pretty sure my parents have some old books of lore in our library at home...we’d easily be able to find a creature that people don’t know about there. Would you want to come over and check them out?” Jimin offered.

You stared at him, grin slightly slipping. Going to the Kim household? Without your mother’s hand to hold, or reprimanding to keep you from doing something foolish? This would be completely different from meeting them in the woods and escaping to the safety of your home afterwards.

You’d be walking into the lions’ den of your own volition.

Jimin saw your hesitation and his face crumpled. “It’s fine if you don’t want to...I’d understand,” he muttered.

But seeing his crestfallen expression, you shook all the bad thoughts from your head. “No! It’s fine. I would love to come over...I just have to let my mom know.”

What is she going to do--say no? You thought to yourself, grimacing.

Jimin’s face broke out into the biggest smile you’d seen today. “Really? That’s great!” His cheeks were full in happiness and you felt immensely better. 

You raised your hand, bringing Mrs. Hargrove over. “May I go make a quick phone call to my mother?”

She nods, glancing again at your partner. You wanted to extricate yourself from the strange atmosphere as soon as possible, so you shoved your phone in your pocket and trekked out into the hall.

You fully weren’t expecting your mother to answer, but she picked up after only a few rings. “Hello?”

“Hey Mom,” you said. “How’s everything at work?”

“Fine,” she said. “I can’t be on the phone for long--what’s up?”

“Would it be okay for me to go over to a classmate’s house for a school project? We were just assigned it and we need to do research. It’s a really big part of our grade this semester.”

She was silent for a moment. “Who is this classmate?”

“...Kim Jimin.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and scanned your eyes up and down the hallway as your mother’s volume increased by multiple decibals.

“Yes, I know...He invited me to his house, he said his parents have books we can look into...yes, it’s necessary, unless you want my grades to drop!”

In your determination to placate your mother, you didn’t notice the classroom door opening, nor did you notice the shadow that lurked around the corner.

“Mom, we can’t exactly refuse...it’s just a school project, I’ll be fine!” 

You sighed in exasperation as your mother launched off a series of directions, ordering you to text her every hour and watch your behavior around the Kims in her absence. After a string of “yes”, “I know”, and “I will”s, you hung up the phone, shaking your head.

You shoved the device in your pocket and hightailed it to the nearest bathroom, wanting to splash some water on your face before returning to class.

Jimin smirked at your retreating figure, taking his own phone out and tapping out a message. Once he received the response he was looking for, he tucked his phone away, brightened his facial expression, and opened the door to the classroom.

------------------------------------------------------------

The moment had finally arrived: the end of the school day.

Mana watched on pitifully as you packed your books away, Jimin standing patiently above you.

Perhaps it was a bit dramatic to feel so scared, but as far as you or Mana knew, this was the first time someone was (willingly) going over to the Kim’s house. And for something as simple as a school project, no less.

“Alright then...we’re off!” you told your best friend, swinging your bag over your shoulder and tugging them into a hug. 

“Good luck on your project! Hope you guys find what you’re looking for,” Mana said, squeezing your midsection painfully tight. “See you tomorrow morning.” They smiled at Jimin, who acknowledged them with a small grin.

You nodded, stepping out from behind the desk and followed Jimin out the classroom. 

As soon as he had one toe out the door, however, he was tackled by a blurry figure with neck length, curly, dark hair. Jimin, whose surprise quickly turned into glee, wrapped his arms around the figure. “Taehyungie!”

The sudden motion made you pause in the doorway, one breath away from knocking your head into Jimin’s back. 

“I missed you today! I hate the fact that Mr. Burham made you switch classes--we always stick together!” Kim Taehyung pressed his face into Jimin’s neck, but you managed to hear the words he spoke. Jimin chuckled.

“We live together, Taehyung ah, we’d see each other regardless!” 

Taehyung lifted his face from his brother’s neck, brittle brown eyes glancing up to meet yours. You felt intimidated by the loss of the sparkle they’d held, but raised a hand to smile and wave at him regardless. “Hi...”

“Oh, Tae! Let me introduce you two.” Jimin hauled his little brother off of him and pulled the two of you by the hand out the doorway so that other students could leave. “(Y/N), this is Taehyung, one of my younger brothers. Tae, this is (Y/N). Mrs. Hargrove assigned us a project on a mythological creature and she’s my partner, so she’ll be coming home with us today to start research.”

You stood against the wall, a polite smile on your face. Taehyung was staring at you with a deadpan expression on his face, assessing you. You didn’t know much about the qualifications of this test, but you assumed it was crucial that you passed it.

All too quickly, his face broke out into a large grin and he swept you into his arms. You grunted at the force with which he pressed you into his chest. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N)!” 

“Um, nice to meet you too...”

“Tae, you can’t just touch her without her permission!” Jimin pulled Taehyung off of you, smiling apologetically. You waved it off, gaping at both of them as they rehashed their day for the other.

The two brothers chatted happily, arms around each other’s shoulders as they ambled through the halls and out the front door of the school. Students sent you scandalized glances as you trailed behind them, but you were too busy updating your mother to pay attention. When you finally looked up, you saw Jimin and Taehyung leading you to a large, sleek, black van. 

Is this what getting abducted in broad daylight feels like?

 But you recognized this car. This was the Kim’s family car, driven by a hired professional to take their five children to school and back. You’d seen it many a times in the morning with your mother.

Students whispered as the three juniors approached the vehicle while you cautiously eyed the three figures that stood in front of it.

Kim Jungkook, the school’s most talented freshman. He’d already made high marks in all of the clubs he’d joined, with special attention to the music and sports club. He was so talented in boxing that the Kims, already large beneficiaries of the school, had given the director the money to start and finance the new boxing club. 

Kim Hoseok, the captain of the dance team with an academic prowess that was second to only one person in the whole school. He’d taken your school dance team to nationals and, although very kind to the general student body, it was not lost on everyone how exhausted the members of his team would be in competition season. No one in after school activities could forget the sound of him sounding out beats or barking orders through the halls during rehearsals.

And finally, Kim Namjoon. The president of the Association for the Student Body and resident academic genius. He’d held the top scores for every class he’d been in since freshman year. The school trophy case was jokingly nicknamed “Namjoon’s Bureau” after the amount of awards that had his name on them. 

Never would you have guessed that you would be meeting not one, but all five of the Kim siblings--on the same day, no less.

“Oh ho, Jiminie,” Hoseok teased as you approached, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Who’s this?”

Be still, my beating heart--

“Hello! I’m (Y/N), a classmate of Jimin’s. It’s nice to meet you all.” You greeted them with a sharp, but quick bow.

“We were assigned a project to research a mythological creature.”Jimin clung to Namjoon by the arm while he and Jungkook were busy staring at you. “Namjoon hyung, would you help us find the books Dad once showed us in the library? The ones with all the lore and stories?” 

On the outside, this felt like a normal day of being introduced to an acquaintance’s family members. 

On the inside, however, you were reminded of the purple flames that stole Natalia’s existence from this mortal plane in mere seconds every time you looked one of the older Kim siblings in the eyes.

Jungkook merely looked curious, doe eyes wide in surprise. But Namjoon...

Even though they were adopted, Namjoon held the same crazed, righteous look in his eyes that Kim Moonsik would have whenever he announced the next tribute for Wylynne’s army.

“I’d be happy to find them for you guys,” Namjoon grinned at you.

You “smiled” back.

That was a grimace...that was a definitely a grimace. You seriously needed to work on your facial expressions around them.

Hoseok opened the car door, sliding into the very back with Jungkook and Taehyung while Jimin leapt for the window seat. This left you between him and his older brother, and you fought the urge to groan aloud.

Once inside the car, Namjoon alerted the driver that everyone was present and the man took off without another word. While he was distracted, you lowered your phone brightness and updated your mother again on your location.

“So, (Y/N), how was your day?” You jerk your head up and turn towards the voice, Hoseok questioning you while still wearing that ear-splitting grin. 

“It was alright! I met Jimin this morning and then we attended classes and lunch...” you said, fiddling with the power button on your phone. 

Hoseok and Taehyung continued to ask you a few more questions, like your favorite color and artists, about your classes and any future career plans. Jimin would cut in every so often with a statement or question of his own, and Jungkook and Namjoon simply watched on quietly as the conversation took place.

You leaned your head on the space between the headrests of the seats, tilting it to the right. You thought this morning’s fatigue had been chased away by the excitement of the day, but it was actually resting, lying in wait for the moment where you would put your guard down.

As much as you wanted to avoid it, the rumbling of the AC and comfort provided by the plush, leather seats caused the background noise in the car to fade before disappearing completely.

Jungkook seemed to be the only one to notice your breathing slow. “She’s asleep.”

Any and all conversation that had been taking place shut down immediately as they all gazed at your figure. 

At some point in your sleep, you started to shiver from the temperature of the AC. Jungkook quickly peeled off his school sweater and handed it to Jimin, who pouted slightly as he draped it over your form. 

They watched the slow rise and fall of your chest and listened to the soft breathing noises you let out in your sleep. The world outside was forgotten, and for a few, precious moments it was only you and them.

And if all went according to plan, soon it would be much, much longer than a few precious moments. Their world would only consist of you and them, all of them, for the rest of time.

[tangent101]

Perceptions of Wealth with Max Caulfield in Life is Strange

One thing I’ve noticed repeatedly in Life is Strange fanfics (and in occasional commentaries elsewhere) is how people assume Max Caulfield comes from a wealthy family. And while I’ve talked about this in the past, it’s probably about time to mention yet again that Max is in fact from a poor family, and that her parents either live in an apartment complex or in her grandfather’s house.

It’s easy to claim otherwise, especially when you compare Max to Chloe, but when you look a little deeper, the signs are clear that not only is Max poor, but she may in fact be as poor as Chloe. We can start by looking at Max’s clothes. Let’s start by looking at Max’s journal entries on clothes:

My mom cried, and my dad laughed. They're so weird. But they're happy and this means extra financial support because they don't have to pay anything to Blackwell. This means new clothes and if I can work it, a new laptop.

Max’s journal entry for July 10th already lays the groundwork here. She believes that seeing her family doesn’t have to pay for tuition, she can get new clothes and maybe even a new laptop. And to be honest, I actually bought into this... until just now when I saw this August 25th entry as well:

That made me want to cry like a little girl. And never leave Seattle. So instead of packing, I feel like burning all my clothes, then just raiding a thrift store to build up a new Max wardrobe over my junior year. Not that I even have an old Max wardrobe.

First, do note that Max talked about “raiding a thrift store” to build up a wardrobe. Her comment here is so matter-of-fact that the point Max was thinking of going to a thrift store for her clothes slipped past my radar... but as a middle-class woman, I do have to admit that it wasn’t until finances got rather tight that I started buying at thrift stores myself. Given that clothes aren’t tremendously expensive at Walmart and the like (especially if you hit sales) that’s perhaps not surprising. But there are no back-to-school sales for Max mentioned or the like.

In fact, we see no signs that Max got a new wardrobe (and admittedly she doesn’t have a lot of outfits, even accounting for keeping jeans in the bureau). Her laptop also is a fairly small one and may in fact be her old laptop. I cannot recall anything Max says or does that genuinely states that anything Max brings with her is new. (This also is true for alt-Max, seeing alt-Max’s journal states on September 14th “Yes, I'm older and thanks to Vic and Nathan I'm now a bit more fashionable too.” In other words, the nice clothing alt-Max wore were gifts from Victoria and Nathan.)

Max even comments on this when perusing Victoria’s clothes. She comes across some socks that “cost more than my entire wardrobe” and given a nice pair of thigh-high silk stockings can cost $75 or more, this might not have been hyperbole. Given that if you’re very lucky on sales you could probably snag skinny jeans for $8 new, and designer t-shirts for close to that (and let’s not go into the hoodies)... and it becomes most likely Max’s wardrobe, with (as Chloe puts it) “chlorine brand [T-shirts] and generic jeans” is cheap used clothing.

Hell, even Chloe’s clothing is in better shape. Despite the fact Chloe’s “poorer” than Max, her clothes look much less shabby and worn. Her ripped jeans look designer. Her shirts are likewise in good shape, with any “damage” being strategic and done for looks. Admittedly, Chloe may prefer certain outfits over others, and thus the lack of wear is Chloe not wearing most of her outfits all the time... but if you put Max and Chloe side-by-side (without Max’s camera evident) and ask which girl is from a wealthier family... and people would probably think Chloe is.

This also helps explain why Max never visited her best friend even in the summer despite living six hours away. If Max’s parents lived paycheck to paycheck then the cost of fueling up a car to drive Max to Arcadia Bay would be painful. (I say this as someone who once had to put her last two dollars in her car so to have just enough gas to last a week, back when that would buy two gallons of gas.) Max didn’t fall out of touch because of stressing out over William or being a bad friend. Max probably didn’t have a cell phone for the first year she lived in Seattle. 

Again. Max and her parents moved to Seattle in the middle of the Great Recession. Yes, that was 11 years back but a lot of people lost their homes. Some of those who become financially destitute never recovered, even today. Others were forced to move in with parents. So if Max is living in a house, it belongs to her grandfather. She probably lives in a two-bedroom apartment and one that’s not even in a good part of Seattle. (She most definitely never rubbed elbows with Victoria in Seattle and never met Victoria prior to Blackwell.)

Speaking of Victoria, this gives another reason for Victoria’s harassment of Max and that is classism. Victoria acts like the typical snobby rich girl who sneers at those who struggle financially. Add in that Max has actual talent despite her lack of wealth, and she becomes a prime target for Victoria (along with Kate for her religious upbringing and lack of “shame” over her religiosity). 

There’s another aspect of this “economic value” with Max that you might not expect, and that’s behavior. When you’re poor, you tend to become invisible to people wealthier than you. In return, some poor people will try and avoid standing out and drawing attention to them. Max has this in spades. She is a “shy cliched geek” who hides behind a lens rather than interact with a world that judges based on appearances. Well, Max appears as shabby and without value. 

She is treated as such by various people as well. And trust me, if Max dressed like Victoria or Juliet, she would not be treated as dismissively. Appearance and behavior are reflections of each other, and we again see this with alt-Max with her nice clothes and more assertive personality, compared to the original Max who feels out of place.

Amusingly enough, as she starts wearing Rachel and Chloe’s clothing she increasingly becomes assertive and willing to take a stand. A good part of this lies with Chloe’s confidence with her, but we the players get to see this as well with Max’s clothes changing and becoming more vibrant. 

So, why do people think Max is financially comfortable? I suspect it’s primarily because Max uses an instant camera. I once calculated out the financial value of the Caulfield Photo Wall, and came to over $100. Admittedly, that may have been all of Max’s photos (outside of ones that Chloe or other people had claimed over the years)... but when you also account for however many photos get rejected for not being good enough (and Max rips up several photographs in Life is Strange) and you’re left with the possibility Max has taken probably a thousand dollars’ worth of pictures.

That said? This doesn’t mean Max has spent a thousand dollars on film. Don’t forget, Max starts out with a battered camera that despite the design being extremely sturdy falls apart when it is knocked off a desk. Polaroid Instant Cameras are much sturdier than that, so the only way that camera fell apart that easily is if it had been broken in the past (which would explain why Max knows how to repair the camera). And with Max’s own journal, we know that Max is perfectly willing to buy and utilize previously-owned items.

In all likelihood, Max lucked across an estate sale or yard sale where someone was getting rid of an old camera they didn’t know the value of and all the film with it and Max walked away with $500+ of film and camera for $10 or so. If she bought more film via eBay and was lucky? She could very well be getting more film for only a couple dollars per cartridge of eight shots. It is also noteworthy to state Max doesn’t have a backup camera. She doesn’t have a digital camera on the side for most of her shots. She uses her phone for some pictures but mostly it’s that old beast of a camera that barely is holding together. 

There’s another reason why a lot of people just assume Max is from a nice middle-class family and that’s because many gamers are from that setting. Who wants to think of Max as a poor girl who is only attending Blackwell because of a art grant? Especially when you add in shabby clothes that highlight Max’s shy and withdrawn personality... you end up with someone that people can have difficulty connecting with. So it’s understandable people just assume the best for Max. After all, they are Max in the game, and who wants to be poor?

[optima-chama]

I Remember...

I remember the first time I experienced racism.

It was quite long ago, I believe I was around 7 (I’m 22 now). I remember how shocked and hurt I was by it, yet still so confused. Even though the day was over a decade ago, it’s still vivid and fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday. I lived in Illinois back then, with my mother, father, and little brother. We lived in a predominately-white suburban neighborhood. Obviously, we were the only black family on that street, so we stood out quite a bit. I had a few friends on that street. Waterford Lane, Lake in the Hills. I still remember that two story house fondly. School had just let out, and just like several other kids, I had gotten on a bus to get home. Ah, those were the days--Elementary School was such a great experience to me, you know? I loved to learn. I loved to read. I loved making my teachers smile and exceeding their expectations and making them proud of me. In school, during that time, we were learning about 3D shapes. Another group of kids that weren’t in the same class as us had gone through their lessons a bit faster, and finished the project to be made at the end of the lesson. A 3D shape of your choosing made out of plastic straws and those twisty-ties that people use to keep bread loaf bags shut. I, being the curious child I was, had been fawning over the 3D shapes those kids had carried onto the bus. I was sitting with a group of kids I had made a pretty good friendship with, or so I thought. One of them even lived on the same street I did; a little white boy my age. We used to bike all the time around the neighborhood together, and he had even been inside my house to play games. I remember asking one of the kids I was talking to if I could see their little 3D project because I just thought it was so cool. My ‘friend’ (who hadn’t even been a part of the conversation) interjected, and said something that shocked me into stunned silence. ‘No, you can’t, because you have dark skin!’ I ran off the bus crying to my parents, who had been waiting at the bus stop for me. I told them what my ‘friend’ had said. I remember them being furious and unleashing holy hell onto that little boy’s parents while all of the other kids and parents watched. I remember being so hurt by what he had said, but so confused as to why his parents were so apologetic and embarrassed and stammering before ushering away, clearly talking to their child in hushed, furious tones. Why were my parents yelling at his? What had they done to deserve being yelled at? Did I really deserve less just because I had brown skin? Because a child doesn’t just go around saying that out of the blue. That boy had never been allowed near my house again. I remember the second time I experienced racism.

Third Grade. I had a teacher by the name of Mrs. Gross (yes, that was actually her name). She was a short, pretty woman in maybe her mid-30s. I revered teachers, because they were authority, and they were giving us knowledge. Teachers couldn’t be bad, right? I still remember the first day we had started that grade, where she gave us a nice sweet flowery speech about how if she offended us in anyway, to come to her and let her know. We could be safe with her. We could trust her. And then came the day she made fun of my birth month during a lesson and didn’t like that (I was a sensitive little kid). I went to her during quiet reading time and told her I didn’t like that, because all months are great. That was when I learned her little ‘You’re Safe With Me’ speech didn’t apply to me. She was dismissive and blew me off. I was hurt by this, but figured, maybe I was just being silly? I could get over it, I wasn’t one to hold grudges. I just wanted to make the adults I respected proud. It took me many detentions, her calling me a cheater due to me being the one student with the highest reading skill, and becoming the scapegoat of the classroom and getting in trouble for many things I never even did to realize that not all authority deserves respect. I remember the first time I ‘fought back’ against racism.

Still third grade. Mother and Father were going through divorce proceedings, Father had left leaving a sore bleeding hole behind in our once idyllic home and it was wreaking havoc in our household. I was a sad and angry little girl. I started acting out more, even in school; because I figured I was being treated like a villain in school anyway, so why not act like one? There was hardly a day that went by that I wasn’t being bullied by my peers, my teacher, or older students that were in the Fifth Grade. I remember this one particular girl in the fifth grade, Nora (of Indian descent), who I thought was my best friend, but in actuality tried to get anyone and everyone she could to make me cry just so she could get a laugh. She liked putting me down, just to make herself seem cooler. God, after I realized how toxic she was, I hated her with a passion. She even turned this one fifth grade boy I had a crush on (he had pretty red hair, silly I know) against me. I’d only ever see him on the bus, but he’d make the bus ride to and from school a living hell. Calling me names, pulling my hair, the like. I tried to tell my teacher about it, but lmao, of course she didn’t do anything. Hell, she even snidely told me I deserved it. So I just sat quietly and took all the abuse, because I knew that no one would help me anyway. One day, I had had a particularly rough day at school. Ridicule from my teacher and peers, and knowing I’d be heading back to a broken home where no father was waiting to hug me and wipe my tears away? I was stressed. I was angry. Mother had heard me crying one day before this, and told me I had her permission to defend myself if I needed to, but ONLY if someone else put their hands on me first. I was NEVER to throw the first punch, she told me. I didn’t understand why, but I trusted my mother above all else. I got on that bus that day. That little boy had a wild hair up his ass for some reason; was showing off for a group of friends. Calling me ‘blackie’, ‘a fat tub of lard’, ‘stupid’, etc. I ignored him, and this made him angry. Then he stood up and kicked me in the stomach. I saw red through the tears of pain blurring my sight before blacking out. When I came back to reality, the bus had been pulled to the side of the road and I was being pulled off the boy by the bus-driver. He had a split lip, a quickly swelling black eye, and was sobbing through chipped teeth. I was banned from the bus for a week after that, during which time I learned that he had a fractured jaw and bruised ribs from my rage too. I remember being pulled into the office by the Vice Principle, with my mother and his parents there, and being shown the tape from the Bus Camera that had caught the whole thing. I remember his parents being angry that I was even still in the school despite their child being clearly in the wrong, and being called a ‘monster’ and a ‘danger to the school’. The VP was cool though, and was on my mother’s and I’s side, saying it was Self-Defense. They said they’d sue, to which the VP laughed and said ‘Go ahead; with this tape, it won’t go anywhere’. I didn’t get in any official trouble, but the glare that mother had given me sent chills down my back. The rumor of what I did spread around the school very quickly. The only good thing about that was that I wasn’t being bullied anymore. I remember the first time I was told I wasn’t as pretty as other girls around me because I had dark skin.

Still in Illinois, but different school. I was in Fifth Grade now. Mother had won custody of my little brother and I, and we had to move from that big old house that I adored into a much smaller condo apartment. Mother had to work long hours to support us, so I had to help her parent my brother. Help out with chores, make sure we got to school on time, help her cook, make sure my brother and I did our homework, we ate, and got to bed on time, stuff like that. I remember feeling quite a bit of pride for being such a big girl to deserve my own phone back then, so my mom and I could keep in contact while she was at work and we were home alone. There was this boy I had a small crush on in my class, he was most definitely the clown. Got in trouble a lot for playing pranks, and joking around and talking while everyone was working. I liked him because he was funny, and made me smile even though I was clinically depressed (that’s a whooooooooooole other story). I had told a ‘friend’ in confidence that I liked him, and well, of course that didn’t remain a secret for long. We were heading to art class when he confronted me and made fun of me for it, in front of our whole class. He said ‘That’s cute, but honestly, I could do a whole lot better than you’. I was hurt. Distraught. One of the other girls seemed to have a bit of sympathy for me and said ‘That’s so mean, why would you even say that?’. I still remember his response to this day. ‘Black girls aren’t as pretty as White girls.’ I remember the first time I was ridiculed by people who looked like me. We had moved to California, to be closer to my mother’s side of the family. I remember being vaguely shocked and excited to suddenly be surrounded by people who looked like me. New friends I could make! Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad anymore! Maybe I wouldn’t be so lonely anymore! I remember my first day in my new school, Sixth Grade. The class was so much more diverse in terms of ethnicity. Not a single white kid in sight. I remember being very wary and even distrustful of my teacher, because he was a white male. I learned better as the year went on though--He was quite honestly the best teacher I had ever had, and I’ll remember him forever.He was strict but fair, and he made learning fun again for me. He was the one teacher who ever told me that it didn’t matter what I looked like-- If I wanted to succeed, and was willing to work for it, I’d be great in whatever I decided to set my mind to do. He believed in me. But anyway, I remember being introduced to my new students, and everyone looking at me like I was a shooting star or something. Illinois was so very far away, after all; I remember getting swarmed by my peers during recess asking me if I wanted to play, and I was so excited. But as the day went on, and I kept talking and laughing with them, they kept giving me weird looks, so I asked them what was wrong. ‘You talk white. Why are you talking like that? Do you think you’re better than us? You sound just like a whitie/gringo. Don’t you know what they do to people who look like you? Why do you want to sound like them?’ It wasn’t long after that that I became lonely again. I remember the first time I had been stopped by a security guard in a public setting. This was during my make-up phase. I had reached my mid teens by now, and I was feeling really insecure about my image. I particularly liked lipstick and eye shadow, and I would beg my mom to take me to the local Walgreens to get some whenever I had saved up enough money. I liked collecting random colors and flavors; it made me happy. I had made the mistake of wearing a baggy hoodie that day. I loved hoodies, still do; they make me feel safe and warm, like a hug. Mom hated them, cause I liked using the hood to hide my face and kept my hands in the huge pockets they had, ,which I personally didn’t get. When we walked through the doors, I had sped-walked straight towards the make-up section. I was looking at all the different brands and colors, touching them while oohing and aahing over them before putting them back; none of them were really catching my eye. Over the intercom, we heard a lady give a strange nonsensical code. I turned to my mom and joked that maybe they thought I was stealing or something (I felt it was funny because mom had put the fear of God in me when it came to stealing; I was terrified about even thinking about committing the act). Turns out, when we were done and walking towards the entrance after paying for our goods and I got stopped by a security guard, that I had been right on the money. I got patted down and forced to empty out my pockets and little purse in front of the doorway, in front of the whole store, for that security guard to be sure that I hadn’t taken anything without paying for it. It took fifteen minutes. They didn’t find anything, of course, but I was practically crying by that point. When we were allowed to leave, I was ushered out the store by my mom and when we were in the car, she took the time to calm me down before telling me that was why she didn’t like my hoodies. Because I would be looked at with even more suspicion when I was in a store than I already was. My mom told me that in order to not be bothered by authority, I had to look as non-criminal as possible. ‘B-But why...?’ I asked, like a naive child. ‘Because you’re black.’ She sadly told me. I didn’t go back to that Walgreens for at least a year. I remember the first time I felt threatened by a police officer. We were living with my disabled grandfather after his second wife had passed by this time. I still thought that the majority of cops were good when I was turning 17. Why else would they be protecting the public, right? They were strong and brave, and put themselves on the line to keep citizens safe. They were the good guys. Sure, there were some bad apples, but you couldn’t judge a whole group based on what they wore, right? There was bound to be some worms no matter where you go, and I had been coached extensively by my mom and uncles about what to say and do if you’re approached by an officer-- Be respectful, stay calm and compliant, and don’t speak too much (this confused me, but whatever my family said I’d do). I was walking with my little brother back from the 7-11 near our house, after a snack run. My brother was 14 then, and he had a bike. It was a pretty cool red bike that he absolutely loved, and he rode it around everywhere. If he was out and about in the neighborhood, chances are he was on his bike. We were laughing and squabbling with each other, like siblings usually do and just minding our own business. When we were only, I’d say, a quarter mile away from home, a police cruiser coasted up beside us on the sidewalk. We immediately went quiet and stared ahead, trying not to look like we were up to no good or anything. I whispered to my brother to let me handle the talking if they spoke to us, because my bro had a bit of a temper back then and I didn’t want him mouthing off to an officer. They followed us for a small distance down the street, before the passenger side window rolled down and the (white) officer in the passenger seat asked us to stop. We did. He then asked us where we were going. ‘Home’, I said, sorta shielding my brother from view. ‘Oh yeah? Where’s home?’ ‘Close by.’ We stared at each other in silence for a bit (I wasn’t dense enough to not realize there wasn’t tension) and I could feel my brother gripping onto my shirt from behind. I could feel him shaking a little. The officer looked at my brother, and consequently, the bike he had been riding down the sidewalk. ‘That’s a nice bike’, he said. ‘T-Thanks!’ My brother said, realizing he was being addressed and eager to talk about something he loved to a guy he thought was doing a really cool job. ‘I love my bike, I ride it everywhere!’ ‘Your bike, huh? Got proof that it’s yours?’ My brother’s eyes went wide in shock. They wouldn’t let us leave that spot until we proved that the bike in our possession was my brother’s. I remember having to call my mom who was at home, wondering where the hell we were, and explain to her that two police officers had us cornered in a nearby street and weren’t letting us leave over a shiny new-looking bike. I remember hearing her losing her shit over the phone, saying she’d be right there and not to panic, and in the background, my grandfather insisting he’d come with to try and ease things to (and to keep my mother in check, cause she’s one hell of a spitfire). I remember shaking and whispering to my brother that everything would be okay; while trying to shield him from view as we stood there for five whole minutes waiting for our mom to save the day, all the while the officer was asking us increasingly invasive questions about us and getting more and more irritated when I gave short, polite answers that didn’t reveal much. I remember taking a further look into the car than I should have, and feeling my heart drop when I realized the officer (of course) had a gun on him. And his hand was resting over the holster. I had seen it. And when I looked back up at him in the eyes, it was clear he knew I had seen it. But his hand didn’t move away from the gun. Mother showed up quick, and with my grandfather in tow. Thing is, my grandfather could pass for white. Only slightly tanned skin that could be dismissed due to the California sun, and bright blue eyes. My mother, with fury in her eyes, clearly caused alarm for the officers, but when they saw my grandfather trying his best to hold her back and keep her from cussing them out with the receipt for the bike she had bought for my brother clenched tightly in her hand, they quickly backed down and tried to seem as friendly as possible before driving off in under two minutes, wishing us a good day. I remember my brother and I quickly being rushed home, the both of us rattled out of our minds while my mom ranted and told us this was why she told us to be on our best behavior while in public. I remember that day as the day it really hit home for me. I was not seen as equal by those around me because of something I had no control over. I would be looked at with suspicion while in public because of my skin color unless I somehow managed to prove I was trustworthy. I wasn’t seen as pretty as girls with lighter skin were. Authority wasn’t always right, nor was it unbiased. Police officers weren’t friends to people who look like me. Whether I was being passive or aggressive didn’t matter to those around me if people wanted to pick a fight; if I wasn’t careful, I would most likely be the first to get accosted/handcuffed/a harsh sentence/killed. And that the freedom that the American Flag stood for, that several of my family members had pledged their lives to, military, medical, or otherwise, didn’t mean a damn when it came to us.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.5 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge’s broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens, Depression

Notes: As a heads up, this chapter includes a depiction of depression.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

~~*~~

Read Chapter 5 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Before Edge was willing to leave the house on what was likely a fool’s errand, he went back upstairs to peek in on Stretch. It was difficult to tell what was going on beneath the tangle of the blankets, but he seemed to be more relaxed from his tight, fetal curl of earlier. Probably sleeping and that was good.

Back in Underfell, his brother’s supposedly laziness used to drive him mad, but coming to the surface world brought a few humbling realizations. Depression was exhausting and so was low HP, and he no longer questioned the need for plenty of rest from any of those he cared about.

A closer inspection showed the blankets rising and falling in even rhythm, deep, slow breaths and Edge let out a near-silent, relieved sigh of his own, hoping that Stretch came out of the other side of sleep at least a little improved.

Edge hesitated at the bedside, wondering if he should leave a note. He decided against it. Stretch had his phone, he could text if he needed anything. Enough dithering about, whatever it was that Red was dragging him out of the house for must be at least a little important, the cameras Edge knew were hidden outside their house surely showed him what happened last night and—

Edge went stock-still on his way out the bedroom door, his hand still on the doorknob as suspicion along with sudden anger welled up in his soul. He closed the door with care and with slow deliberation, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to send a curt text back to his brother, Tell me what this is about.

No response and just as he was about to shove his phone back into his pocket came, awful slow these days, bro. hurry up and you can see for yourself.

His phone creaked in his hand and Edge forcibly loosened his grip, shoving it back into his pocket before he could give in to the childish urge to throw it against a wall. It wouldn’t change a thing except give him the extra headache of being without a phone until he could get a replacement. Red would have his fun and there wasn’t an angry text message in existence that would change that. There was only one way for his niggling suspicions to be confirmed and that was to play the game.

But he would have a thing or three to say once they were done, of that he was certain. Edge snagged his keys on the way out the door and headed out to his car.

The address Red sent him wasn’t more than a ten-minute drive to the mostly abandoned neighborhoods of Old New Home. As he pulled up to the abandoned lot, Red stepped out of a shortcut on the curb, hands in his pockets and his semi-permanent grin wide.

It set Edge’s emotions into a roiling conflict. On one hand, he was very annoyed with his brother, verging on furious if this turned out the way he suspected, and on the other…

On the other, the last time he’d seen his brother, it had started with him lying on Edge’s kitchen floor, bleeding out in his arms, and ended with Sans carrying him away. He looked tired, but that was more normal than not with Red.

Interesting to note that he was not wearing a matching collar to Sans, which meant either Sans had no idea what a single collar relationship symbolized, or he knew all too well and Edge wasn’t taking that thought any further. Brotherly concern was one thing, but he was not interesting in knowing the minute details of their relationship, so long as they were happy.

Speaking of happiness, Red’s grin was practically gleeful as Edge got out of the car. “awful slow, there, bro. gimp leg holding you back?”

“Shut up,” Edge said automatically, even as he limped over with cane in hand, “and start telling me why you dragged me out here.”

The mocking pout was all the more disturbing for being on Red’s face. “what, no hug?”

“I’d attempt it to prove a point,” Edge told him dryly, “but I have enough injuries without you literally stabbing me in the back. What. Do. You. Want.”

Red only shook his head, sighing as if with deep disappointment, ah, he was in a cheerful mood, wasn’t he. “all those years of you harping on manners and i ain’t even getting a how’s it going, how you been feeling, looking a lot better without all your marrow leakin’ out. no love at all, boss?”

If he wanted to play, Edge did still remember the rules. “Very well. How is Sans doing? He looked well when he brought me your report the other day. Is he taking care of any more of your work?”

That smile slipped a fraction. “he’s doin’ fine.”

Edge only looked at him, brow bone raised. If Red wasn’t going to discuss the elephant in the room, Edge would be more than happy to allow it to step on his foot. “I’m only asking as the Director of Operations, literally your boss, as you so enjoy pointing out. I’m sure you understand that it’s important for me to know what work my people are handling. In case there are any liabilities.”

That wide grin turned faintly wry, Red’s crimson eye lights gleaming his amusement. “yeah, fuck you, boss. he’s doin’ real good. decided for some dumbass reason he needs to move in. stupid fucking cat is having a fit.”

“Ah, yes, fuck you, only the very best comeback in your arsenal for me, I’m sure. And I can’t even begin to imagine why he’d want to move into that garbage pit you call a home.” Edge crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at his brother. “All right, you’ve had your fun. Now, where is she?”

Red barked out a laugh. “oh, very good, little brother, already figured it out, didja.”

“Your puzzles haven’t improved since Junior Jumble, it was not that difficult.”

“not for you.” As far as he was out of his childhood years, hearing that rare tinge of pride in his brother’s voice still made him want to preen. Edge squashed the urge, following as Red jerked his head towards overgrown field behind him. “come on.”

The terrain would have been aggravating even with two perfectly working legs. Having one that sent up threatening warning twinges with every step made it all the worse and the soil was loose and muddy, hard for feet and the tip of his cane. Grimly, Edge follow his brother through the hip-deep weeds, taking sour enjoyment in the fact that they were nearly above his brother’s head.

“she was a bitch and a half to find, i tell you what,” Red said conversationally, shoving his way through the vegetation. Edge supposed he should be grateful Red hadn’t either gone all-out jungle trekking and brought a machete or worse, offered to shortcut them, if only to force Edge to refuse. The very thought of taking one of Red’s shortcuts made his gorge rise. His brother tromped on obliviously, or at least giving a remarkable appearance of it, “this little gal has some tricks. little chickie crossed a lotta roads to get here.”

“Care to explain how you even knew how to look for her?” Edge asked sardonically and it was just as well Red wasn’t looking at him, because Edge couldn’t hide his surprise when he answered.

“sure. i was the reason she was missing to begin with.”

Edge stopped, “What? What the fuck does that mean?!”

“keep your hair on, you want me to explain or not?” Red kept moving and after a moment, Edge followed him, hands clenched into painful fists to keep from reaching out and strangling him. All that would do was waste time and amuse Red all the more, and Edge was trying to keep his contributions to his brother’s sense of humor at a minimum. “motion sensor went off at your place in the wee hours last night.”

“Motion sensors that you are not supposed to have.”

“huh, strange thing,” Red mused aloud, “don’t remember anyone sayin’ i couldn’t.”

“I didn’t think I had to!”

“anywho, went over to check it out.” He paused, swearing under his breath as he picked several dried-up thistles from his jacket without even bothering to flick any in Edge’s direction and utterly ignoring Edge’s visibly simmering impatience. “and i saw some kinda animal with too much fur and not enough feathers to be in your coop. your little lady was outside in the fenced area and close to bein’ a midnight snack. so i scooped her up, but before i could deal with the toothy lil’ problem, your liability came swooping in like a fucking bare-ass bat out of hell, firing bones every which way. i shortcutted out before he could turn me into a kabob. didn’t really mean to take her along for the ride, but i didn’t exactly have a wide selection of options.” Red craned his head to look over his shoulder slyly, “’least the view wasn’t bad. he musta felt me getting ready to clean house and hightailed it down. honey bun has pretty good reaction time. better'n yours."

Edge ignored that. “And you didn’t bring her back afterward because?

Red only shrugged. “couldn’t. she weaseled her way loose the second we hit grass again and took off. spent half the night and all morning lookin’ for the little fucker. once i figured out where she was holed up, i messaged you.”

Edge exhaled slowly, struggling with his temper. “And why didn’t you simply tell me all this earlier? Stretch is sitting at home mourning her and you—"

“and if it turned out she got hit by a car or some shit?” Red countered sharply, “really wanted to go there? figured it’d be better to make sure she had her feathers intact before i got his hopes all up.”

That was surprisingly valid as excuses went, and yet, “You could have told me! At the very least I could have helped you search!”

“think so, little brother?” Red looked at him with enough scorn that Edge had to suppress a flinch, “or you think maybe you woulda told stretch, try and cheer him up a bit? i wanted you to look her over, make sure she's all right first, but hey, you go on and call him right now if that’s what you think is better.”

Edge ground his teeth and said nothing. All the arguing in the world couldn’t make Red understand that this might have been the last thin, straw that broke the back between Stretch and a very dark day. His brother coped with his issues in much different ways, in Edge’s experience usually copious amounts of alcohol. Perhaps Sans would have been able to explain it better. Or perhaps he would have already given in and slapped Red upside the head, it was a fair chance either way.

They kept up through the tall grass. It shushed around them in the light breeze, that rustle the only sound, surrounding them, and his car growing small and distant behind them. Red was panting when they came to a small clearing, leaning over with his hands braced on his knees as he panted out, “here we are.”

There, sitting happily in a trodden down area of grass, was Nugget. She cackled out a greeting, loud in the muffling hush of the grass, but concerningly she didn’t move when normally she would be dancing flirtatiously around Edge’s legs.

“Is she hurt?” Edge demanded. He reached for her, ready to carry her back to the car and straight to a veterinarian.

Red scratched at the back of his skull, “see, that’s the thing—”

Before Edge could pick her up, she let out a warning screech and tried to peck at his hands. He snatched them back, staring down at her in bemused shock.

“—she seems to be in a mood of some sort,” Red finished, “can’t figure it out, she ain’t bleeding and she hadta walk all the way over here on her own. i woulda brought her back to your place when i found her, but she was pretty insistent on stayin’ right there.”

Baffled, Edge ran a Check on her, ignoring how ridiculous it seemed to do on a chicken. Her HP was fine, and he thought it better not to question why she had a LV of 2. “She doesn’t seem hurt.”

He reached out again cautiously, ignoring her pinching little beak attacks against his gloves, and lifted her up. Beneath her, the grass was torn up and arranged into a sort of nest and inside it—

Red crouched down to peer into it, mouth twisting crookedly. “huh. where you figure she got the golf balls?”

“I have no idea.” Standing in a field questioning the intentions of a chicken was not where Edge ever expected to find himself.

Red reached in and pinched a small, white object between two sharpened fingertips, lifting it up from the pile to inspect it despite Nuggets increasingly loud squalls of betrayal. “there’s one egg, anyway. least she’s still layin’ for you.”

Tucking Nugget against his side to stop her squirms, Edge only stared at it, perplexed, and said slowly, “That isn’t one of her eggs. Nugget’s eggs are a pale green.”

“huh.” Red set it back gently into the pile of grass and golf balls, and scrubbed hand over his face. “lemme get this straight. your little mini liability found a random egg in a pile of golf balls and decided to settle in and play momma? that’s what we think’s happenin’ here?”

“Would you like me consult my crystal ball? I don’t speak chicken and you’re the one whose been spying on them.” Nugget was getting increasingly difficult to hold and her forlorn and angry cries were either too heartrending or too annoying for Red to ignore. He heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

“hang on to the little shit,” Red ordered, even as he stepped sideways into a shortcut. Leaving Edge alone in the tall grass with an increasingly distraught chicken.

“Hush, hush, come on now,” Edge soothed, gentle petting what he could reach of her feathers. Her loud clucks dissolved into unhappy coos, looking up at Edge with mournfully beady little eyes. How was this his life, Edge wondered, with weary amusement, catering to the whims of a bird that once he would have seen more as lunch than a pet. He gave her a gentle scritch underneath the chin and she crooned softly, her small eyes closing as she finally settled.

Only to squawk loudly as Red abruptly reappeared, “here we go.”

In his hands was a hanging basket with a spray of flowers only just beginning to bloom from the leafy tendrils. It was rather lovely, definitely expensive, and absolutely did not belong to Red.

“Where did you get that?” Edge demanded.

Red shrugged, “only thing that matters is they didn’t see me.” He dumped the flowers out onto the ground in a sad splatter of leaves and potting soil, then crouched down and began filling it with grass. “c’mon, the joke’s getting’ old and the crowd’s restless, let’s get the show on the road.”

Edge made a mental note to have a much nicer replacement sent discreetly to anyone who complained about a missing floral arrangement and started to crouch down to help. Only for his brother to brusquely wave him back.

“hold the fucking chicken, i got this,” Red snapped. He didn’t look up at Edge, stuffing grass into the basket furiously. “you been standing long enough, last thing you need is to get down here and not be able to get back up. bet that leg is singing an ava maria by now.”

Slowly, Edge straightened, watching silently as Red filled the basket and he didn’t protest his leg was fine, didn’t try to reassure him, only let him make a messy little nest in the basket. He added the golf balls, nestling them into the grass, then hesitated over the egg, finally giving Edge a side eye. “uh. so do we take it or leave it?”

“Take it,” Edge decided. “Perhaps Stretch can do some research and find out what kind of egg it is.”

“it’s your funeral, don’t blame me if you end up with pet crocodile or some shit.”

“Nonsense, crocodiles aren’t native to Ebott. Snakes, however—” He trailed off as Nugget renewed her struggles and leaned down to set her in the basket. She settled immediately, fluffing out her feathers and nestling in. “I suppose that’s that.”

“yep, take ‘er home.” Red stood and stretched, both hands pressed into the small of his back as the joints popped. “by the way, i saw you doing work on the coop. ain’t a bad idea, but you don’t have a fox problem, boss.” His brother straightened and tucked his hands into his pockets, his grin colder, sharper, and in that moment, he could have stepped dusty and damaged directly from Underfell. “’least not anymore.”

He was gone before Edge could even open his mouth to ask.

He was alone again in the tall grass with nothing but a contented chicken for company and his car a painfully long walk away, particularly when lugging said chicken along.

“Thank you, brother,” Edge said, with an equal measure of sincerity and sarcasm. There was nothing for it. Edge heaved up the basket in his free hand and started to struggle his way back through the field.

Time to head home. Home, yes, home, where Stretch was hopefully still asleep, and Edge could only hope that seeing Nugget would shake at least a little of his depression loose. The thought of even a faint smile from his love was enough to make the growing ache in his leg well worth it.

tbc

[maylovexhs]

everytime - I KNOW PLACES (Chp. 24)

Author’s Note: Just a warning, I mention sensitive stuff in this chapter(stalkers) but that’s it. It’s brief mention. Hope you enjoy this one. -May

Catch up on everytime here

Aug 16, 2019. 2 PM. 

*Y/N’S POV*

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I stood outside the door, waiting for it to open. After a second, Harry opened the door for me.

“Surprise!” I said in a cheery voice. “Well, not actually since you saw me from the cameras”

Harry stepped to the side, allowing me inside.

“So, how has your morning been?” I asked, passing him. “Went for a run?”

“Actually, I went to the shop” Harry said, closing the door.

“How was yours?” Harry asked. “Slept in?”

“Uh-huh” I said, kicking my shoes off, leaving them on the shoe rack. “The old routine. End concert late, sleep in late”

Harry nodded, understanding.

“Please tell me you actually have something good for breakfast” I asked Harry. “And not any leftover smoothies”

Harry looked down, a little offended.

“You know, you don’t need to have one if you don’t want” Harry said.

“I know” I told him. “I just don’t see why there’s a need to have one”

I walked away from Harry and to his kitchen. I started rummaging through shelves looking for anything edible.

“Yes!” I said, finding some crackers.

“Crackers?” Harry asked. “For breakfast?”

“Well, you don’t have anything else” I told him. “Wait, do you have eggs?”

“Wait there” Harry said, walking away.

He returned a few seconds later with his phone in his hand.

“Avocado Toast or egg muffin?” Harry asked me.

“What?” I asked.

“Postmates” Harry said.

“Oh” I said. “Neither”

Harry raised his eyebrows at me.

“Neither?” He asked.

“Neither” I said. “Pancakes”

I walked out of the kitchen, Harry following me behind.

“Pancakes it is”

Two hours later.

“I need to add how to make biscuits to my list” I said, setting my plate on the table.

"I thought you already knew how" Harry said. "Didn't you bake some the first few times I was at your apartment?"

I shook my head, blushing as I remembered what he was talking about. I sat back on the couch.

"Store brought" I said. "Twenty-three year old me was a horrible baker"

"Well, I could teach you or try to do it with you" Harry offered. "As someone who worked in a bakery before"

I smiled at him.

"Next time" I said. "Had enough biscuits for today"

"What about tomorrow?" Harry asked.

"Tomorrow I have a flight at three" I answered him.

"So, you can't make the Ariana's show tomorrow night either?" Harry asked me.

"You're going to Ariana's show tomorrow?" I asked him, surprised. "With who?"

"You know who" He said. "Mitch, Adam, Sara-"

"Sarah" I filled in for him.

He nodded.

"Well, sorry" I said. "As much as I would love to get drunk and dance my ass off, I can't"

"Next time" Harry said.

We looked to each other, smirking. Next time. When was there a next time for us?

I looked down to my lap, staying quiet for a moment.

"Do you miss him?" Harry asked me.

I looked up to Harry.

"What?" I asked him.

"Ashton" Harry said. "Do you miss him?"

I bit my lip.

"A little" I admitted. "Not talking to him though"

"Aw, why?" Harry asked.

"Don't want to get into it but . . . it doesn't feel like the right time" I said. "I talked enough about it to Ali and Aaron yesterday"

Harry looked down, smirking to himself.

"Stop making fun of my misery" I told him.

"Oh, I'm not" Harry said. "I just find it ironic"

I raised my eyebrow at him.

"You're just usually the more hopeless romantic one of the both of us" Harry said.

"I am" I said. "I've always been one"

"Really?" Harry asked me. "You don't sound like one now"

I gently kicked his leg.

"Hey, hey, hey! All I'm saying is that you changed" Harry said. "Nothing bad about it but I remember you being different. You used to have a 'glow' in your eyes whenever you talked about someone"

"And I don't now?" I asked him.

"You do" Harry said. "It's just less noticeable"

I looked down, thinking. I mean, he wasn't wrong. . .

"I'm just trying to be realistic" I said to Harry. "I want to be with Ashton more than anything but . . . starting a relationship on tour? You know how hard it could be. It's just not the right time"

Harry nodded, keeping silent for a few seconds. He smiled to himself.

"What about being his friend then?" Harry asked me.

"You mean, talking to him but not dating him?" I asked.

"Yeah" Harry said. "Well, until tour finishes but it has to be better than not being with him at all"

"Right..." I said in sarcasm. "I should just call him up like 'Hey, Ash. Wanna be pretend to be friends even though we both kissed and obviously like each other?'"

"Well, don't say it like that" Harry said.

I laughed at Harry. Not even a second after I felt myself leak. Leak down- down there.

I stopped laughing, realizing I was late for my period. Shit.

“What’s that look for?” Harry asked me.

“Umm, nothing.” I told him. "I think I just got my period

Harry looked to the side, having no idea how to respond to that. He looked back to me a quick second after.

"Surprisingly, I think I have some of Camille's leftover pads in the bathroom" Harry said.

"Won't need" I said, getting up from the couch. "Always have one on me"

My phone vibrated on the table. Harry grabbed it for me, looking at who was calling.

“It’s Lisa” Harry said.

“Answer for me” I told him. “Gotta check”

I turned away and walked out of the living room and to the bathroom. I locked the bathroom door and pulled my pants and underwear down. I looked at my underwear.

No blood. Thank god.

I pulled my pants back up, sighing in relief. I unlocked the bathroom door and walked back to Harry, who was setting my phone on the table again.

“False alarm” I said in relief, sitting back on the couch. “What did she want?”

Harry blinked at me, a little surprised.

“Vogue?” Harry asked me.

“Italy’s Vogue” I said.

"Still, Vogue" Harry said.

"And?" I asked him. "I've done Vogue before. Nothing new"

"News to me" Harry said to me. 'Didn't tell me about it"

"Because only my team is supposed to know about it" I said.

"So did mine when I did Rolling Stone" Harry said, pointing out the difference.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't bring it up sooner" I faked-apologized to him. "Speaking of Rolling Stone, when is it coming out?"

"September" Harry said. "They sent me an early copy of it"

“Really?” I asked him. “Can I see?”

Harry looked at me, a bit hesitant.

“Oh, come on” I said. “It’s me”

"Hmm, you didn't tell me-"

"Just show me" I said to Harry, almost as an order.

"Fine" Harry said, getting up from the couch. "They're in my room"

I got up too, following him into his bedroom.

Of course, Harry's room was clean for the most part. I mean, it's Harry. He's cleaner than me and most people I know. His bed was made, there was no tossed clothes on the floor, his jewelry was in order. I was pretty sure Harry had a sprayed lavender before I came over too.

Harry walked over to his bedside table, shuffling through the several sheets of paper that was laid on the table. I sat on his bed, waiting for him to hand me the photos -which he did, after a moment.

"Here" Harry said, handing me the photos with a paper clip on them.

I looked through the photos, one by one.

The first two photos was of Harry, shirtless. The two photos were taken in different angles but it didn't matter. All of his chest and arm's tattoos were clearly bared in both photos.

"This one is going to be the cover" Harry said, pointing at photo in my hands.

"As it should" I said. "It's a tease of a cover"

Harry smiled at my comment. I flipped through to the next photo. This one was Harry wearing a blue hat with some feathers on it along with him wearing blue trousers and a blue jacket. I flipped to the next photo, which was a close up of Harry in the same attire.

"I'm guessing Harry L. picked this for you" I said to Harry.

"You don't like it?" Harry asked me.

"Oh, no. I do" I said. "Just know feather hats aren't your style"

"They are now" Harry said.

I shook my head, smirking. The next photo I looked at took my breath away for a second. It was Harry photographed in a field of flowers wearing a blue jumpsuit. I've seen countless photos of Harry before but this one - something felt special about this one.

"I kept the jumpsuit" Harry said. "I'm hoping to wear it on stage"

"You look god in it" I said. "You look beautiful here"

"Thanks" Harry said. "It's my favorite one we took"

I smiled to myself, an idea popping in my head. I looked to Harry.

"Can I take a picture of this?" I asked Harry. "Just to use as your profile pic for my phone"

"Why? What photo of me do you have now?" Harry asked me.

"You know which one" I told him. "The one of us backstage at your concert. I was with Felix and my hair was blonde"

"When I was with Camille?" Harry asked, remembering it.

I nodded.

"So, can I use it?" I asked Harry. "I swear I won't share it"

"Alright" Harry said. "But if I find one-"

"I got it, H" I told him, cutting him off from his joke.

I placed the photos on the side of the bed. I got up from the bed, walking towards the door. I tried to leave the room but the door wouldn’t budge. I looked down to see the door was locked. A pin needed to be entered to leave the room.

"Why'd you lock the door?" I asked, looking to Harry.

“Oh” Harry said in a weird tone. “Don't remember locking it"

Harry got up from his bed, walking towards me. He entered the pin, opening the door for me.

"Here" Harry said, holding the door open for me.

I held the door open, allowing Harry to return to his bed. He straightened the photos into a pile.

I squinted my eyes at him. He didn't remember locking the door. Neither did I.

"Does your door lock automatically?" I asked him.

Harry looked to me, pretending he didn't hear me.

"Your lock" I said. "Is it automatic?"

"Uh, yeah" Harry said, looking down. "Aren't you getting your phone?"

"I am but . . ." I said. "Why do you have a lock if you have the rest of your house to yourself? Isn't that annoying?"

"The lock's broken" Harry said, changing his story. "I'm getting a guy to fix it"

I stood there, staring at Harry. Something didn't sit right with me about this.

I took my hand off the door, letting it close.

"Are you lying?" I asked him.

"Lying?" Harry asked me, sounding defensive. "Why would I be lying?"

"H" I said, sitting down on the bed, next to him. "How long have we been friends?"

Harry bit his lip, looking down. I placed my hand on his.

"H, what's wrong?" I asked him. "You can tell me anything"

Harry didn't say anything for a moment before sighing, giving in.

“I have . . . a stalker” Harry said in a low voice, almost like he didn’t want me to hear. "Had a stalker"

“What?” I asked him. “When did you have a stalker? Why am I just hearing about this?”

“A few months ago. We sued him” Harry said, looking up to me. “It’s all okay now"

“Is it?” I asked him. “Because you’re still using a lock. Is that why there are so many papers on your table? Are those the lawsuit papers?"

“It’s all under control, Y/N” Harry said. “I really don't want to talk about it. I just want to leave it all behind me. I promise I am okay.”

I stared at him, not knowing if I should trust him. Was he really okay? He didn't seem okay. He was sleeping with a panic lock every night. You don't sleep with a panic lock unless you don't feel safe. Was he sleeping with a panic lock for months? Was he that traumatized he needed to sleep with a lock every night?  

“Y/N” Harry said, squeezing my hand.

I blinked at him, snapping out of my thoughts.

"I'm okay" Harry said. "You don't have to worry about me. My team is taking care of it. My stalker is away in his own country and I have a bodyguard that stays with me at night"

"A bodyguard too?" I asked him. "How is that okay?"

"Y/N, I wouldn't be here if I didn't feel safe" Harry said. "I swear I'm alright. You don't need to worry"

I bit my lip, frustrated. I sighed, deciding to let it go.

“Okay” I said. “But if you ever feel like it, or if he ever comes back . . . you can always stay by me"

"I know, I know" Harry said. "But London's home. Can't just leave it because of one person"

I leaned my head on Harry's arm. I sighed.

"Nothing better happen to you" I said to him. "The last thing I want is you to get hurt or feel unsafe"

"I am safe" Harry said. "I feel safe with you”

I looked up to Harry who was looking down at me. We slowly smiled at each other.

I felt safe with him too.

"You're not getting your phone, aren't you?" Harry asked me.

"No" I said, still smiling at him. "No, I'm not"

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office Series - New Experiences

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Three: Little Things

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n had found herself stuck in a scenario she’d never thought she’d ever have to face: she’d been catching feelings for a coworker. While she attempted to adapt to her new job and work load, she also had to get used to these new feelings and figure out what the fuck to do with them. George made her want to take risks, she didn’t care about the potentiality of a broken heart with him, because falling in love with him made it seem worth it. Is George falling for Y/n too? Will he be able to reciprocate her feelings?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! Since you guys seemed to like the text messages between Y/n and George, I decided to include a chunk of them, since there weren’t any in the last part. 

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some sexual! tension! up! in! here! Digital penetration (fingering lolz)

12:36 am, George: I cannot stop thinking about you.

My stomach churned with butterflies, but I wouldn’t let him know.

12:38 am, Me: Creepy, much?

12:38 am, Me: Kiddingggg :P

12:40 am, George: Haha. Very funny. 

12:41 am, Me: Have you gone back to rehab to visit your friend?

12:43 am, George: Yes, Dean and I went yesterday after work. He’s not doing very well, but I know he’ll get better. Addiction is very scary.

12:44 am, Me: I can’t imagine. It must be hard seeing him so sick.

12:45 am, George: It is, but you’ve made all of this a lot easier for me to deal with. You make me forget about every single little flaw in life. 

12:47 am, Me: Then I guess I’m doing my job. 

12:48 am, George: You distract me too much sometimes, especially after last night. 

12:49 am, Me: Really? Huh, I wonder why, that’s weird.

12:51 am, George: *insert eye roll*

12:52 am, Me: It’s time to get emojis, old man.

12:53 am, George: Nah

12:53 am, George: Unless you want to show me how to install them this weekend?

12:55 am, Me: Sounds like a plan, grandpa

12:56 am, George: You must be into older guys then, huh?

12:58 am, Me: Yup, I have a bingo kink

12:59 am, George: Gross. 

12:59 am, George: I’m not thaaat old, I’m only 27.

I was twenty-four. Was that weird? Would he think that’s weird?

1:00 am, Me: When’s your birthday?

1:02 am, George: Next week, actually. March 13th.

1:03 am, Me: You doing anything to celebrate?

1:05 am, George: Eh, probably not. Dean and I might go to a bar or something, that’s what we’ve done in the past.

1:05 am, George: You’re welcome to come along if that’s the plan.

1:07 am, Me: I’d like that a lot, actually. I won’t get plastered this time, I promise.

1:08 am, George: Mhhhmmm.

1:08 am, George: It’s getting late, you should go to bed love

There it was, again. Love. I melted in my bed.

1:09 am, Me: You’re the one texting me!

1:10 am, George: You don’t haave to respond. 

1:12 am, Me: But I want to.

1:13 am, George: See, there’s the problem.

1:14 am, Me: Is it a problem?

1:16 am, George: Yes, because I’m making you lose sleep.

1:17 am, Me: I don’t mind.

1:18 am, George: You’re making this harder for me, Y/n.

1:20 am, Me: Fine. I’m going to sleep.

1:21 am, George: *insert me sticking my tongue out*

1:22 am, George: Good. Goodnight, love.

I woke up the next morning with dark rings underneath my eyes, but they were well worth it due to our conversation; I’d found out that George was twenty-seven years old and his birthday was on March thirteenth, making him turn twenty-eight the following week. I wondered if our slight age difference would make things weird, I hoped it wouldn’t. 

I went to work that morning with extra concealer on my face, and a sleek black pencil skirt with a dainty blouse. I rolled through New York traffic, waved at the receptionist once I’d arrived at the building, and made my way to the second floor with the not-so-speedy elevator. I welcomed my desk, waving at silently at Dean before stretching my hands and typing my results from the experiment. 

The CBD oil experiment had gone pretty well; I used it only temples after coming home from work with a headache and I’d definitely noticed a difference. I spent the entire morning rewriting everything over and over again, wanting to perfect my first article and impress the HBIC that Connie was. 

When lunch had rolled around, I decided to head to the small cafeteria to see what they had in store for me that afternoon, hoping it’d give me some energy to finish writing the article. I decided to go with my regular salad, picking out the toppings, as I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around noticing the presence of Faith, the small ginger haired girl I’d met on my first day. I smiled at her, before returning back to my salad. 

“I meant to tell you before, but your idea for your experiment is really good, I’m kind of shocked at how well your first pitch is, actually,” she admitted with a smile as she opened some cabinets, scavenging for food.

I blushed at her compliment, turning my face to look at her.

“Thanks, Faith, that means a lot coming from you,” I beamed at her. “Your article of your interview with that producer from The Bachelor was amazing!”

I saw her cheeks tint pink as she turned her body to me after finding a small bag of chips.

“Really? You couldn’t tell that I was nervous during the interview?” she asked worriedly, her thin, groomed eyebrows knitting together anxiously.

I shook my head. “Not at all! It was perfect.”

She chewed on her lip before smiling at me.

“Thanks, uhm, maybe we could work on something together sometime? After the article you’re working on right now, of course,” she suggested. 

I grinned at the girl.

“Of course!”

“Okay! I’ll see you around, Y/n.” She exited the room with a soft smile, and left me to finish my salad. 

I was glad to have finally made a girl friend, especially someone who could potentially help me with my writing. I finished my salad-making, returning to my desk and immediately conversing with Dean.

“So,” I began, shoveling the lettuce into my mouth. “Any new office drama we can talk about while we’re on lunch?” 

The people that usually sat beside us had gone off to some restaurant down the block from the office, leaving Dean and I by ourselves at the table.

“George heard two people goin’ at it in one of the conference rooms earlier,” Dean shared with a laugh, his blue eyes softening in humor.

Hearing him mention George made me wonder if George had told Dean about me. I brushed this thought off, knowing it’d result in unnecessary anxiety.

“Do people usually have sex in the office?” I asked, lowering my voice.

He shrugged.

“Sometimes, I guess, but George works on the third floor with the most empty offices, so he hears about it more than me, I’m sure.”

I shoveled more salad into my mouth, as I pondered what it’d be like having sex at the office. Having sex on one of the empty conference tables and risking someone coming in or hearing, or doing it on a desk after everyone’s gone, the building empty and the bright lights of New York lighting up the office through the windows; my legs were quivering at the memory of George’s tongue and imagining how he could fuck me at the office. It’d be so scandalous, so risky, but why did I like thinking about it?

“Y/n?”

I brought my head up to the brunette, observing his confused expression.

“What?” 

“I asked how the article’s going,” he repeated.

Shit, did I space out that bad?

“Oh, it’s going well,” I stammered. 

“Don’t be nervous about it, I’m sure Connie’s going to love it,” he reassured me, his expressions softening with concern.

I was not just spacing out due to anxiety from the article, but I led him to believe so because I was sure as hell not going to tell what I was really thinking about.

“You’re right,” I agreed.

I shoveled the last of the lettuce into my mouth, the fork lingering in my mouth as I thought of George’s lips; I missed the taste of him. 

I wondered where his office was; I wanted needed to see him. I needed to feel his lips against mine, I needed to feel his hands explore my body, I needed something to relieve the aching between my legs. 

“I’ll be back, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I announced, grabbing my phone and quickly exiting the office. 

I scurried into the elevator, pressing the third floor button and opening my front camera on my phone to perfect my appearance. I ran my fingers through my hair, teasing my roots to make my locks look tousled and sexy. As the elevator stilled, the doors opened, and I headed down the hallway, hoping for a sign that had George’s name on it for navigation. There was an open room with tables of desks like my floor, but it was much smaller, revealing the small amount of people in the art department.

It led to a hallway with several rooms on each side, as I slowly walked down and turned my head to each door in hopes of seeing his name or his face somewhere. I was finally introduced to a wooden door with “George MacKay” written on it. My cheeks flushed, and I knocked on the door with my knuckles. I heard footsteps as my heart raced, his door swinging open and revealing his face. 

His hair was in perfect form, his locks styled effortlessly while he was dressed in a light blue button up and slacks, his blue shirt making his eyes look even lighter. His shirt fit his torso just right and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the veins that trickled up his arms. I licked my lips at the sight of him, as he fisted my shirt and pulled me inside of his office, kicking his door closed.

“I have to say, this is the best surprise I’ve gotten in a while,” he muttered, his eyes looking me up and down. 

His hands wrapped around my waist, going to my lower back as his face inched towards mine. I felt his warm minty breath welcome me, already relieving my craving for him. I moved my nose to gently nudge his, before my lips attacked him. I couldn’t hold back anymore; George took away any self control I'd had in the past. 

My hands went to cup his face before snaking around his neck. I felt his hands travel down to my ass, squeezing it, causing me to moan into his lips. I pulled on his hair instinctively, slipping my tongue into his mouth. He began walking, making me walk backwards until my back hit the desk. I pulled away, as I sat myself on it without thinking, scrunching my skirt up to my waist so that my legs could open for him to stand in between them. He stood himself between my legs once I’d given him access, staring at me momentarily. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen as he stared intently at me.

“What do you want to do, Y/n?”

I chewed on my lip. There was no way in hell that George and I’s first time would be at my work. But, I needed a relief; the ache between my legs was too much, almost painful at this point. 

“Can you make me feel good?” I whimpered confidently, my fingers threading through his locks as we looked at each other.

His eyebrows furrowed and he nodded, his cheeks turning pink at my request. 

“How do you want me to make you feel good, love?” he asked, his hand coming up to cup my face. 

He slipped his thumb between my lips, surprising me. Without thinking, I swirled my tongue around his finger and gently sucked on it. His eye lids drooped as he watched me in awe, probably imagining my mouth on his cock. I opened my mouth as he removed his thumb and I looked at him innocently. 

“Your fingers, George. Please,” I begged.

Still gazing at me, he lowered his hand, pushing my panties to the side with his index finger. 

“Your wish is my command,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb running down straight to my clit.

My hips bucked at the action, and he attached his lips to mine to swallow all of my moans. He rubbed circles on the sensitive bud before running his finger through my folds. My fingers knitted themselves into his hair as he teased my entrance, driving me absolutely insane. His finger slid into me easily due to how wet I was, how wet he had made me. He pulled his lips away from me, using his free hand to insert a finger into my mouth. I sucked on it, as I tried not to let any moans escape my mouth while he attached his lips to my neck. His thumb began picking up its pace, his finger curling into me faster. I gently nibbled on his fingers as my stomach began to twist, my legs sticking straight outward and trembling. The delicious pleasure was building and building, and I wasn’t sure how long I could last. 

“You gonna cum, angel?” 

Angel.

I cried out against his finger with a closed mouth, hitting my climax as I came undone onto his fingers. My jaw went slack as I rode out my high, fingers threading themselves and pulling on his hair for dear life. My body spasmed against him, overwhelmed with pleasure. Once my legs finally relaxed, he slowly removed his fingers from my heat, and latched his digits into his mouth. He hummed, sucking me off of his fingers as I watched him in awe. He removed his fingers from his mouth, before grabbing some tissues off of his desk.

“I’m gonna clean you up, okay, love?” He informed me, looking at me for permission.

I nodded, watching as he got onto his knees and began gently wiping my pussy with the tissues. My breath hitched at the contact, sensitive after my climax. I watched him as he looked intently at my heat, concentrating, as he strategically cleaned where I’d been dripping. 

“I wish I could’ve cleaned you up with my mouth, love, I hope you know that,” he admitted, looking up at me. 

I whimpered, looking down at him as he gazed at me with innocent blue eyes.

He pressed his lips against each side of my inner thigh, before standing up and tossing the tissues into his trash can. He returned between my legs, moving his palms to cup each side of my face.

“Y/f/n Y/l/n, you’re going to be the death of me,” he confessed with a chuckle. 

“Rest in peace, George MacKay,” I joked. “Cause: Y/f/n Y/l/n being too sexy.”

“That's for damn sure,” he moved to peck my lips, his fingers pulling down the bunched up fabric of my skirt. I held onto his shoulders as I stood up, needing extra support for my weak legs. 

I flattened the skirt, adjusting my top as well. “How do I look?” I attempted to brush through my hair with my fingers.

“You look perfect,” he smiled, pecking my lips again. “I wish we could see each other after work this week, but I’m supposed to visit Andrew at the rehabilitation center with Dean until he starts improving.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I brought my hand to his bicep, ignoring how muscular it felt.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “You have to be there for your friends.”

He looked down at me, his expression softening as I watched him examine my features. 

“Thank you, Y/n,” he said softly, his eyes returning back to mine. “You’re one fucking amazing woman.” He grinned, crinkles appearing next to his eyes.

My cheeks flushed as I fought back the urge to melt straight into the floor; I felt like I could have passed out if I hadn’t forced myself to remain composed and on my two feet. 

“I’m not all that special,” I assured him. “I’d say I’m pretty much just an average millennial woman.”

He rolled his eyes. “But you’re not,” he argued. “You’re so fucking intelligent and determined, it truly baffles me. Most adults go into work, because they have to; you come into work everyday, prepared to blow everybody’s fucking minds, no matter what it takes.”

He brought his hand up to his face, the pad of his thumb stroking my bottom lip. “You have these little quirks, like, you chew on your bottom lip whenever you’re nervous or focusing on something.” He poked my cheek with his finger, causing me to smile. “You have these adorable little dimples.” He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You roll your eyes all the time, too, which could get you in trouble one of these days, love.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, not wanting to prove him right. I shook my head instead.

“You’re stubborn too,” he added, noticing my expression. “But, I think you’re the most kind and forgiving woman I’ve ever met; I don’t think I know someone who could forgive their roommate for the shit she’s done to you,” he admitted. “But you want to see the good in every person.”

My eyebrows furrowed at the accuracy of his observations.

“How do you know all of this?” I interrogated, my eyes squinting in suspicion.

He smiled softly. “I notice all of the little things about you, love. They’re hard to miss when I’m with you.”

I bit back my giddy smile. “I notice a lot of the little things about you, too, George.”

He stepped closer to me. “Like what?” he chided with a smirk.

I brought my fingers to the sides of his eyes–careful enough not to touch his bruised eye–mimicking his previous actions. “The crinkles by your eyes whenever you smile or laugh.” I moved my finger to his nose, gently running along the bridge of it. “The way your nostrils flare whenever you’re concentrated or confused.” I poked the small freckles that were sprinkled along his nose. “These adorable freckles.” I could see him blush under my touch. My fingers went up to trace his right eyebrow. “Your eyebrows furrow whenever you’re focused on something.” My fingers moved down to his arm, tracing the veins. “The way your veins travel from the backs of your hands to your forearms.”

My palm moved back up to his face, cupping his cheek as I stared into his blue piercing eyes that gazed back at me.

“You’re incredibly loyal, and as much as you may not want to admit it, you’re hardworking and you love your job.” I stroked the small freckles along his cheek with my thumb. “I notice all of the little things about you, too. They’re hard to miss whenever I’m with you,” I rephrased his words sincerely with a whisper. 

I watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, as he gulped and stared at me with an intense expression. 

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/n.”

[softspiderling]

of broken promises and heartbreak - part one | t.h.

Summary: It’s been six years since you and Tom broke up, six years since you’ve last seen each other. A lot has happened, Tom got insanely famous, making countless billion dollar movies, attending one red-carpet event after the other. But now he was attending one event, he wasn’t sure he was ready for. Your wedding. And he wasn’t attending as your groom.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Rescue Me by OneRepublic

Author’s Note: I have two other WIPs I have to finish writing and of course I started writing a new piece. #sorrynotsorry I am planning to do a second part, if you’re interested, pls let me know.

Warnings: some swearing, angst

Word Count: 3,4k

Masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

Tom straightens his shirt as he stares in the mirror, a frown etched on his face. He can hear hushed conversations in the room next door and he knows that his brothers are waiting for him to come out of the room. Tom can’t believe that he is getting ready for rehearsal dinner of his ex-girlfriend. He figures it could be a bit odd for bystanders to know that you would invite your ex and his family to your wedding, but you’ve always been close with his family. It was something Tom always cherished, seeing you getting along with his parents and brothers so well while you were dating.

After the break-up on the other hand, it bothered him that you still had contact with his mum. It was selfish, he knew that now, but he always wanted his mum to be on his side, he was her son after all. He was pretty stupid. He always thought of you being the one that got away, even though he was the one who let you go.

The two of you were sitting on your couch; tears were pooling in your eyes while Tom’s were directed at anything but at you.

“I- where is this coming from?” you asked, fingers pulling on the threads of the ratty t shirt you were wearing. “I thought we were happy… I am happy, aren’t you?” your voice broke as you looked at the side of his head, while he was staring at the wall in front of him.

Framed photos were decorating the walls of your living room, pictures of your friends and family. Pictures of you and Tom smiling, hugging, kissing, being happy. Unlike now.

“I am not as happy as I used to be,” Tom said quietly and he exhaled softly. “I don’t think that I can give you what you need, Y/N.” He kept his eyes on the wall, until he caught sight of a picture from the two of your from your last vacation together; cheek to cheek, smiling brightly at the camera. He dropped his gaze to the floor, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stomach looking at you.

He used to promise to you to always be there, whether it be good or bad times. But recently it had been more bad than good times, and he wasn’t sure if it was still what he wanted. You were so young and when the two of you started dating, you were even younger, bright eyed, naïve that what you had could last for a life time.

He felt like no matter no much he tried, there was still something missing and there came the times when he’d rather spend a night out with Harrison and Jacob instead of watching a movie with you. A fear settled in his stomach, spreading throughout his body as time passed. The fear of missing out.

His friends had told him how lucky he was, to have found someone so perfect for him in his young years, while the rest of his friends were still looking for the one, alternating between different girls. Tom sometimes envied them of their freedom. Not that you were caging him in, but he always felt certain restraints when he went clubbing with his friends, nursing on his drink at the bar while the rest of the boys were grinding with different girls on the dance floor.

He was happy with you. Going furniture shopping for your apartment, picking out flowers for your friend’s birthday, he loved spending time with you. But the domesticity scared him.

“I only need you!” you assured him, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “That’s the problem!” Tom exclaimed, his voice rising. “I don’t want to be the lifeline you cling to, I need my space. We always do everything together. We’re still so young and I feel like were an old married couple already.”

“What?” you said confusedly, a hiccup escaping your lips. That was the one thing you and Tom always loved about your relationship, at least that was what you always thought.

The harmless bickering, the comfort you felt around each other as if you’ve been together forever.

“I am only 20, Y/N. I am supposed to be out there, living my life. Hell, I am flying out to New York next week to film Spider-Man.”

“And you know I am so happy for you, Tom. Why are you acting like I am holding you back? I am so confused, we’ve been dating for two years and suddenly you feel like you’re missing out on life?” you asked him, tucking your hair back. He was treating you like a child hanging onto him like he was your mother.

Tom clenched his jaw and raked his fingers through his hair as your words sunk in. Suddenly he felt stupid and exposed. He knew he was being unfair to you, projecting his insecurities onto you. But at that time, he felt like this was the right thing to do.

“I am sorry, Y/N. It’s over.” He said quietly as he got up, turning his back to you. You scoffed as new tears spilled over your cheek, but you stared at the ceiling.

“You know, you are going to regret this, right? I am not going to fight you on this, because I know you think you’re doing the right thing for both of us. You’ve had it all, Tom.”

His feet stilled, hand on the door knob. It wasn’t too late, he could still turn around and tell you that it was a mistake and that he would make it up to you, but he was too weak. Deep inside him, he knew that you were right about everything, but Tom somehow couldn’t find the strength to turn around.

“I am sorry.” He whispered once more before he opened the door and left.

It’s been six years since Tom has seen you, and in the six years, he realized two things. One: Breaking up with you was the dumbest thing he has ever done. Two: the happier you got, the more miserable he became. And now he’s getting ready for your rehearsal dinner, a day before your wedding. He really fucked up.

A knock on the door brings Tom back to reality.

“Hey mate, you ready?”

Harrison leans against the door frame of Tom’s hotel room, out of the three boys waiting in the common room next door, he was the one volunteering to talk to the fidgeting boy (man, really).

“This is really stupid,” Tom mumbles, fingering the end of his dark red tie.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for me to come?”

Harrison sighs and pushes himself off the door frame.

“Tom, Y/N invited you.”

“She invited my family,” Tom points out. “I didn’t get a personal invitation like you did.”

“That’s because my family wasn’t invited. Tom, you two dated and she was really close with your family, why would you get a separate invitation from your family? The Holland family was invited, Not ‘Holland family minus Tom’,” Harrison states and the brown haired man sighs, rubbing his face with his hand.

“I am being dumb, right?” he asks his best friend and Harrison nods, slinging an arm around the shorter one. “Yeah, but no dumber than usual.”

“Piss off,” Tom snorts and shoves Harrison off of him, fixing his dress shirt.

“And Y/N told me she’s really excited to see you,” Harrison mentions off handedly and Tom’s heart almost jumps out of his chest.

“She told you what?” he presses out, his voice several octaves higher than five seconds ago.

Harrison rubs the back of his neck, wincing at the tone.

He was the one who introduced the two of you and after the break up, Harrison was caught in between two people, never wanting to pick a side, not wanting to hurt his best friend or you.

Though there was no contact between you and Tom, Harrison often functioned as the neutral middle man.

It happened all too often, that when Tom was hanging out with Harrison, that the latter would dick around on Instagram and stumble upon a story you posted, your voice booming out of the speakers of the phone before he could exit the app. The silence that followed wasn’t the most comfortable, to say the least.

“You know I talk to her, Tom,” Harrison says carefully and Tom stares at the blonde, his mouth agape before snapping it shut, bristling.

“Of course you are,” he mutters, his head full of questions. Why would you be excited to see him? How much have you changed? Did you still have any feelings for him? Tom clenches his fist and clears his head, before punching the wall next to the mirror, leaving it dented, the wallpaper ripped.

Harrison watches his friend quietly, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Mate, maybe you should stay here,” he suggests and Tom shakes his head quickly. “NO! No, I- I should be happy for her. It’s my fault, this is just…”

“Hard, I know. But I am here for you,” Harrison promises. “Boys, the car is here,” Harry calls from the other room.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Tom mumbles to himself and grabs his jacket, before leaving the hotel room with the twins in tow, heading downstairs to the car that would take them to the venue of the rehearsal dinner.

oOo

“You ready babe? Guests are already coming through the door,” Levi says as you check your reflection in the mirror one last time.

“Yeah, just checking my make up again,” you hum, touching up on your lipstick, your lips widening in a smile when your fiancé wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look perfect,” he tells you and you giggle, closing the cap of your lipstick. “No need for charming, I already said yes,” you tease and Levi kisses you on the cheek before pulling away.

“Yeah yeah, one day when we’re old and grey, you’ll miss me charming you,” he sings, before lacing his hand with yours, tugging you out of the room to greet your guests.

“I’ll see you later, yeah,” Levi whispers and parts after giving you a soft kiss, leaving to greet his college friends. You watch him leave before you head over to your bridesmaids.

“Rehearsal dinners are so American,” Tina says, while Hannah hands you a glass of champagne. “Since when do you complain about an event that involves food?” you laugh, nipping on the champagne.

“I am not complaining, just pointing out,” Tina snorts and eyes the guests trickling in. “So, anyone interesting coming tonight?” Vica asks, stirring her martini.

“All of my guests are interesting, Vic,” you hum with a grin, swallowing the champagne, as the beverage burns your throat. You’ve never liked champagne, but you were pretty sure you aren’t going to survive the night without any drinks.

Hannah watches you suspiciously, her finger nails tapping against her glass. “Is Tom coming?”

Vica chokes on her martini, coughing. “Holy shit, you invited your ex?!”

You roll your eyes at her and empty the rest of the champagne into your mouth, before placing the glass on a tray. Considering that Vica was your best friend and maid of honor, she really had a knack for missing important details.

“Yeah, I told you that when I sent out the invites,” you sigh and shake out your fingers. “I still think it was a bad idea, I mean, your break up wasn’t exactly amicable,” Tina says and Hannah hums with a shrug of her shoulders. “So what? That was six years ago, they’re both adults.”

“Plus, now you can say that a famous movie star is attending your wedding, how cool is that?” Vica waggles with her eyebrows, making the other girls snort.

“You guys are the worst,” you declare, squeezing their hands. “I gotta go though, my god-aunt is here. I’ll see you guys around, yeah? Stay out of trouble,” you warn your girlfriends, heading over to the entrance of the venue.

oOo

Tom wipes his sweaty hands on his pants as he trails behind Harrison and his brothers into the venue, glancing around the halls.

During the ride to the venue, he had managed to keep his nerves at bay, but now that he was seconds away from seeing you again, he was also seconds away from combusting. He looks at the people standing by the entrance of venue, not recognizing any of the guests, exhaling slowly. He sees a dark haired guy in suit talking animatedly to a group of men and he wonders if that is the man you are going to marry tomorrow, before letting his eyes wander.

The moment Tom sees and recognizes you, he is pretty sure his heart skipped a beat. You haven’t seen him yet, so he let himself stare at you a bit. He admires the way your hair looks with the sun shining on it, your eyes sparkling with happiness, your lips painted with a delicate red, the color similar to the color of your dress.

Tom has always liked red on you, just as much as you liked red on him, which was probably the main reason why he had picked out the red colored tie.

Suddenly, your eyes find his and a flush creeps on his cheeks when he realizes that he’s been caught staring, while you look surprised, before your face melts into a happy one, though he can detect an unreadable tone. He used to be able to read you so easily, but after all this time, Tom can’t tell if you were happy to see him.

“- you know our garden, we’ve really struggled with finding a spot for the mango-.” “Would you excuse me, Tamara, I have to greet my other guests,” you say to your god-aunt with a smile, before walking over to Tom, exhaling softly. This is the first time meeting him since your break up.

Even though you’ve been trying to avoid his face as much as you could, it was kind of impossible considering he was a famous movie star. You even watched all of the marvel movies, despite the tugs on your heartstrings every time you saw his face on the screen, but you’ve always been a fan of his acting.

You bet he’s really thankful for his acting skills now, you figure it’s not easy attending the wedding of your ex-girlfriend.

“Y/N!” Harry calls out and a smile breaks out on your face as you hug Harry first and then Sam, sighing into the hugs.

“Hey guys, I am so glad you could make it,” you tell them and beam at Harrison, who wraps you in a tight hug.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Harrison says, before his voice drops into a whisper.

“He’s really nervous, love. Don’t let him fool you.”

You frown, giving Harrison a look as you pull away, before smiling awkwardly at Tom, tucking your hair behind your ear.

How were you supposed to greet your ex? A handshake? Hug?

Tom cleared his throat, before dazzling you with a wide smile, a smile, you’ve seen on too many red carpet photos.

“Y/N, hi. It’s really good to see you,” he says, hugging you before kissing your cheek, making you still in his arms.

“Uh, Tom, hi,” you say perplexed, your chest tightening. The greeting seemed so cold, even if he kissed your cheek.

“Thanks for inviting me, I hadn’t expected an invitation, to be honest,” Tom tells you and you laugh nervously. “Yeah, no, of course. I am surprised that you could attend, I am sure you’re missing out on some important event.”

“It’s your wedding, darlin’, I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” he assures you and you furrow your brows. That was such a weird thing to say.

“Right… Where are Paddy and your parents? I am pretty sure they RSVP’ed that the whole family was attending,” you mention.

“They’re flying in right now, but they will be at the wedding tomorrow. Don’t you worry, they’ve been looking forward to this,” Sam says and you smile at him, thankful for the interruption. The conversation with Tom was so uncomfortable, it never used to be like this with the two of you. You wondered if he had changed with all the fame.

“Oh, okay, I am glad. I haven’t seen them in ages,” you reply, jumping slightly when an arm snakes around your waist. You look up to see Levi smiling at the four boys and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Tom clenching his jaw.

“Hey babe.”

“Levi, this is Harry, Sam, Harrison and-“

“Tom, I presume?” Levi interrupts you and you frown, before schooling your face into a smile.

“Yeah, mate, nice to meet you,” Tom says, shaking Levi’s hand; their eyes never leaving the other’s.

You watched them, noticing the tension between them. The other three boys exchange looks before Harrison speaks up.

“So, what’s a guy gotta do to get a drink?” he asks and you exhale, gesturing to the bar.

“You can get drinks over there, I made sure they serve some proper English beer for you guys,” you laugh and Harrison claps his hands.

“Excellent.”

“Come on, babe, I want to introduce you to my friends,” Levi says and squeezes your side and you nod, smiling at the four English boys. “Have fun guys,” you tell them and with one last look at Tom, you and Levi leave to talk to other guests.

As soon as you leave, Harrison punches Tom in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell was that for!” Tom exclaims, rubbing his shoulders.

“’Darlin’, I wouldn’t miss this wedding for anything’?” Harrison mocks him, while Harry and Sam nod in agreement. “That was the most uncomfortable conversation I was ever a part of, bro. I thought you were nervous,” Harry asks and Tom scoffs.

“I am nervous, what are you talking about?”

“You acted like a dickhead,” Sam tells him and Tom’s face drops. “I didn’t do anything, I just greeted her like I would greet someone on the red carpet, you know, professional,” he argues and Harrison facepalmed, groaning.

“Mate, forget professional. There was a time that you wanted to be the one next to Y/N at a rehearsal dinner, this is not the time and place to act professional,” he says. “She was already so uncomfortable and adding that pissing contest with her fiancé? Mate, you gotta cool down.”

Tom scowls and turns his head to the bar.

“There was no contest, I already lost,” he says quietly. Harrison clasps Tom on the back, making eye contact with the twins. “Cheer up. Let’s get some of the beers Y/N mentioned and I promise it’ll be fine.”

oOo

Levi clinks a spoon against the champagne glass he’s been holding, calling for the attention of his guests.

“Everyone, I welcome you to Y/N and my rehearsal dinner. In a couple of minutes, the first course will be brought out and I hope you all enjoy yourselves, because I certainly do,” he grins and presses a kiss to your cheek.

The guests all cheer and clap, though you can see Tom nursing a beer at the table in the back.

His behavior really irritated you, even with Harrison’s warning. He didn’t act like the Tom you knew, the Tom you loved and cherished.

It was like he put up an act and you’ve never felt so estranged him like right now, even though this is the closest you’ve been to him since six years.

As the first course is brought out by the staff, you excuse yourself from your guests, pushing your chair back.

‘You okay?’ Vica mouths at you and you nod, giving her a small smile. You head out to the side entrance, to catch some fresh air, feeling overwhelmed and so hot.

You lean against the wall of the building, exhaling softly, closing your eyes. Even though it has been six years since the breakup, seeing Tom again really brought all sorts of feelings back, and you’ve never been able to deal with stressful situations, it’s needless to say that this is more than stressful for you.

“Y/N?” someone asks tentatively and you look up just to see the cause of the situation you’re currently in.

“Hey Tom,” you say softly, blinking in surprise as he steps closer to you.

“Can we talk?”

next >

[misscrazyfangirl321]

OC-Tober Day 29: Need

OC: Flora Silverton

Fandom: Grimm

Pairings: None

Warnings: A little darker than my usual stuff at the beginning; poor Flora has a rough time settling in on a team that investigates homicides. Also, this is long. 

@oc-growth-and-development

-

She doesn’t like not having anything to do. It settles uncomfortably under her skin, clawing and taunting her, telling her she doesn’t belong. That she isn’t fooling anyone, and everyone would be happier if she just left. She’s useless in the world of monsters and magic, just an out-of-work teacher with a pickup and a smile.

She needs to find some way to help, to be involved. To feel like she actually matters to this team. 

So the next time that Eve gets called in to consult on a case, she comes, too. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Eve insists, looking at her oddly. “You aren’t trained for it.”

She shrugs. “So call this on-the-job training. Look, I came out here for you, girl. I stayed for you. But that doesn’t do a thing if I don’t actually help, and since this is what you’re doing, this is what I’m doing. We’re in this together, remember?”

Eve makes no further argument, just hops into the passenger seat of Flora’s truck and offers an address. 

At the scene, they face a new problem. 

“Cops only,” an unfamiliar Sergeant insists, holding up his hand. He glances at Eve in obvious recognition and nods to her. “They’re expecting you. But no tag-alongs.”

“Tag-alongs-” Flora sputters, but Eve holds up a hand, turning to the Sergeant. 

“Tell Detective Griffin that Flora Silverton will be joining me today.”

Before he can argue, Wu appears, stepping out from behind the building. “Hey, Eve, the body’s just in-wait, what are you doing here?”

He doesn’t sound confrontational, just curious, but his words echo the ones that have been rattling around in her head for days, and her stomach turns. What am I doing here? I’m trying. I’m trying to help my little cousin the only way I know how. I’m trying to be a part of this team. I’m trying to prove that I can actually help. “Learning curve,” she offers instead, and he blinks, but nods. 

“Let them in,” he instructs the Sergeant, who hesitates for only a split-second before nodding. 

Wu holds out a small bottle of Vicks, and Eve waves him off, so he turns to offer it to Flora. 

“What’s that for?” She asks, feeling slightly silly for doing so. 

“You put it under your nose.”

“Why?” Maybe this is some sort of prank. Getting the new girl broken in, or-

“Because…” The look he gives her is somewhere between dry and concerned. “Dead bodies don’t smell good.” 

Oh. She doesn’t even try to feign the same strength as Eve, reaching out and applying a small amount to her nose. The smell cuts right through her, but she has no doubt that it’s preferable to whatever she’d smell without it. “Thank you.”

With a nod, he leads them into the house. It’s busier than she expects, a swarm of people going to and fro with baggies and cameras, collecting as much evidence as she can. When they reach the living room, she nearly gags; even with the Vicks, she can smell it, and somehow, whatever she expected, this was worse. She looks over, and sure enough, that’s a-a body. She’s seen dead bodies before, at funerals and such. But this is different: three bullets to the gut. And there’s so much blood, and-

There’s no warning; the room just goes dark. 

-

When she wakes, she’s lying in the back of her truck, a cool rag pressed to her forehead. She hums, lifting her head slightly, and the hand holding the rag pulls away. 

Eve’s hand, she realizes, when she turns back. Her cousin is watching her, expression unreadable.

“Ugh… Did I seriously faint?”

“Yep!” It isn’t her cousin that answers, but Wu. He steps into her field of vision, eyes dancing. “Straight into my arms. Flattering, but there are easier ways to get my attention.”

Rather than dignify that with a reply, she simply groans, looking at Eve. “I’m really sorry. I totally messed that up, didn’t I?”

Unexpectedly, Wu doesn’t crack a joke at that, just walks away, leaving her and Eve to sort things out. Whether that’s a really good sign or a really bad one, Flora isn’t altogether sure. 

“You can’t do this again,” Eve says finally.

“What, faint? I mean, I’m not planning on it, but-”

“This.” Eve gestures around. “Go on cases. This isn’t your job.”

Wait, she messed it up that bad? That Eve’s just willing to bench her, do not pass Go, do not collect $200? Her cheeks burn, and she ducks her head. “I’m so sorry, but if you give me another chance-”

“No.”

“I promise, I’ll get used to it-”

“I don’t want you to.” Eve swallows, looking a little less steady herself. “I don’t want you to get used to this. I don’t want…” She sighs. “I don’t want you to be like me.”

Flora’s heart might just break a little, and she reaches out without hesitation. “Prima…” 

Eve closes her eyes, letting Flora take her hand for a few short seconds, squeezing tightly. Then she pulls back, looking up with that familiar, terrifyingly neutral expression. “You’re a teacher. Teach.” Then, softening a little- “We don’t have to spend every second together for me to know that you’re here. And I’m-I’m glad that you’re here.”

She can hardly argue with a speech like that, not coming from Eve. She knows how much it must have cost the woman in front of her to say something so emotional, so she nods slowly, in surrender. “I’ll leave the consulting to you,” she promises, omitting a silent for now at the end, “but I don’t want to teach. I want something more flexible, so I can help you if you need me. I’ll find something, though.” 

Eve grants her a small smile. “Good. Now come on; everyone’s going to lunch.”

She’s not completely sure she’ll ever be able to look at food again, but sure; why not?

-

By the time she reaches the restaurant, she’s changed her mind: she’s absolutely going to eat everything they have. She hadn’t realized until now that she skipped breakfast, and she’s starving. 

Everyone turns out to be Hank, Nadine, Wu, Monroe, Rosalee, Adalind, Diana, Kelly, and the triplets. They meet Flora and Eve at the door of this ridiculously old-school diner, and the group flocks in together. Once they’re all seated, drinks are ordered, and Diana’s off at the old crane machine (which she’s definitely cheating at, but if no one else is going to say anything, Flora sure isn’t), Hank clears his throat. 

“How are you feeling now?” He asks her, and she winces, running a hand through her hair. 

“Mortified, but I’m okay. I can’t believe I fainted.” 

Hank chuckles, waving her off. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen rookie cops handle it a lot worse, and you aren’t even trained.” 

She wants to believe him, but deep down, she suspects he’s just trying to make her feel better. “Really?”

“Yeah!” He grins. “At least you didn’t throw up.”

“Is throwing up worse than fainting?” She wonders aloud, and Wu nods seriously. 

“Trust me, to the people who handle cleanup? It’s much worse. Plus, you don’t contaminate any evidence.” 

That’s a fair point. She’ll take what she can get, anyway.

Conversation shifts to lighter topics, far away from dead bodies and throwing up (probably due to the faintly green shade poor Monroe was turning), and the rest of lunch passes without incident. It’s only when the food is gone and everyone is getting ready to leave that something breaks up the peaceful atmosphere. 

Adalind’s phone dings, and she glances down, before groaning, closing her eyes briefly. “No, no-” And all Flora can think is: something happened to the rest of the team. Renard, or Nick, or Trubel; or all three of them. Maybe this Farley guy betrayed them all. 

“What’s wrong?” Eve asks, instantly on alert, probably thinking along the same lines. 

Adalind shakes her head. “It’s nothing,” she assures them. “It’s just, I’m supposed to have this whole week off, but my boss is insisting that I come into work. He says it’s an emergency. But I don’t have anyone to watch the kids, and-”

“Kelly can stay with us,” Rosalee interrupts, smiling warmly. 

Monroe nods. “Yeah, he’s practically part of the family anyway. And…” He glances over at Diana uncertainly. “Diana could come too?” It’s hard to say whether he or Diana looks less thrilled by the prospect, and Flora speaks before she can overthink it. 

“Maybe she could hang out with me.” Everyone turns to her in, frankly, a little more surprise than expected. On the other hand, Diana is a bit of a… Unique child. “It’ll be fun,” she adds. “Where do you like to go?”

Diana shrugs. “I don’t go a lot of places,” she replies, and she doesn’t seem bothered by the fact, but Flora wonders exactly what she means by that. 

“Well, what do you do for fun?”

Diana blinks a few times, and Flora is just starting to wonder if the girl understands the concept of fun when she brightens. “I read a lot,” she offers. 

Now this, Flora can work with. “Have you ever been to a library?”

Diana shakes her head, and Adalind blushes. 

“I just…. Don’t want her levitating the books, you know?”

Fair point, actually. “Diana?”

“Yes?”

“If I take you to the library, don’t levitate the books.”

“Okay.” 

Everyone gapes, and Flora’s not altogether sure why. Diana always seems like a cooperative kid. Sure, she’s creepily superpowered, but she’s also pretty obedient for the most part. 

Adalind clears her throat. “No levitating anything else, either,” she warns, and Diana gives her a look that is dangerously close to an eyeroll, making her look more like a ruffled teenager than someone who hasn’t yet hit nine years old, but Flora’s just gonna let that one slide. 

“I won’t,” Diana promises, and Adalind softens. 

“Thank you, Flora.” She rises to her feet, and the others follow suit, taking it as their cue to leave. “It’ll only be a few hours, tops.”

-

Somehow, a few hours turns into several hours every day for the next four days. Oddly enough, Flora doesn’t mind. Everywhere they go is an adventure for the little girl who has apparently spent most of her life hidden away from the world. They spend hours at museums, zoos, libraries, parks, and anywhere else Flora can think of. Diana soaks it all in, asking thousands of questions, and Flora does her best to answer them. She’s never had a more invested student, and whatever questions she can’t answer, she does her best to look up. 

Diana’s definitely a child, and more than once Flora has to put her foot down about not having cookies for lunch, but aside from one Incident (and really, the monkey deserved it), there’s no risky levitation. 

Through it all, she doesn’t think much of it. It’s just a way to help out, and she enjoys it as much as Diana seems to. 

It’s only after-when Sean Renard is back in town, calling and asking if she can come up to the Precinct to talk to him-that she starts to second-guess herself. What if she overstepped? What if she endangered Diana by taking her out in public like that? What if Diana was secretly miserable the whole time and now he’s going to yell at her?

Silly, but by the time she reaches his office, she’s in full panic mode. 

“You, uh.. You wanted to see me?”

He glances up from some paperwork, and offers her a smile (that’s a good sign? Right?). “Yes. Please, come in. Shut the door, if you don’t mind.”

Well, that’s certainly not reassuring. She complies, and after a moment’s hesitation, settles into the chair closest to the door. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t comment, and she fights the urge to squirm. She is a grown woman, and this man has a hopeless crush on her cousin. She is not a child called to the principal’s office. 

“Is everything…?” She tries, and he nods, setting his paperwork aside. 

“I understand that you took care of Diana the past few days.”

Her stomach drops, but she manages a nod. “I did.”

He leans back in his seat, unfairly calm for someone who’s absolutely terrifying her. “She told me about it. Well-” He laughs, a little dryly. “More like she hasn’t stopped talking about it. Apparently, she had a blast.” Literally, but he doesn’t need to know about the homemade volcano display. “Wants to know when you two can have another ‘playdate.’” 

… Wait, seriously? Is that all this is about? “I’d be happy to watch her anytime.” It’s not quite a question, but she lets her voice trail off, as she watches him uncertainly. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He fixes her with a stare. “I also understand that you’re looking for a job.”

“How do you-” She pauses, realization dawning. “Eve. She told you I fainted?” That’s… A little mortifying, actually; she’ll have to talk to her about-

“Ah, no.” And he doesn’t laugh, but his eyes are dancing, the absolute jerk. “She didn’t mention that. Just said that you were looking for work, and that consulting on homicides wasn’t a good fit.” 

And now she’s even more mortified, but that’s fine. She’s fine. “Yes,” she manages. “I’ve been looking for work. Why?” A part of her suspects she knows where this is going, and babysitting isn’t going to pay the bills, but maybe it’ll at least help. 

He clears his throat, going a little more serious. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that Diana is something of a… Unique case. Her mother and I-and Nick-have been at a bit of a loss regarding her education. Not to mention socialization; none of us are home enough during the day to take her on outings.” 

This is sounding… A little more in-depth than babysitting, actually. She straightens in her seat, looking at him curiously. “What exactly are you suggesting, here?” 

“I’d like you to be Diana’s…” He pauses, maybe searching for the word. “Caretaker. It’d be a bit of a mixed job; somewhere between nanny and tutor. You’d take care of her while everyone else is at work, and provide her whatever education you think is appropriate. On days where one of us has off work, you’d be free to do as you liked, of course.” 

“That…” She hesitates. “That sounds like a full-time job.” Granted, flexible-Diana’s schedule would naturally allow Flora to help the team-but still… “And I’m not sure-” She doesn’t quite want to bring up money, but she’s not sure he realizes exactly how much it would cost. 

Apparently he tracks her line of thinking, because he cuts in. “You would be well-compensated, of course.” 

And the man has money-she knows that-so he might actually be able to pull this off. But… “Oh?” She asks, aiming for casual, because it seems more polite than how well-compensated are we talking, here? 

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a check, and hands it to her. And it’s a miracle that she doesn’t faint again on the spot, because that is… A lot of zeroes. Considerably more than she ever made as a teacher, that’s for sure. 

“I-” She tries, but the words won’t come. 

“You’d make that monthly, to start.” More than her yearly salary monthly? “We can discuss bonuses later, and if you think that isn’t enough-”

Is he joking? “No! I mean, this is… This is…” She traces her finger along the check, throat tight. With this, she could find a place for her and Eve to stay. A nice one, if they want. And she could-she could-

Her mind is running wild, but a thought lodges itself in firmly, and refuses to let go. She hates it, and it seems more than a little ungracious toward the man that just handed her that check, but she knows she has to say it, or it’ll eat her alive. 

“I really appreciate the offer,” she starts, and he raises a brow. “And believe me, I’m tempted. But there’s one thing I want to clear up before I accept.”

“Oh?”

She draws in a breath, grappling for the words. “You, um. You seem like a really nice guy. Have the whole time I’ve known you. But I’ve only known you a few months, and… I’ve heard stories.” His expression goes carefully guarded, and she hurriedly adds, “And I’m not judging! I’m a huge believer in people changing and all that. But if I take this job, my job is going to be taking care of Diana. So if I think you’re doing something like… Trying to convince her not to trust Nick-or even the other way around-I’m not going to put up with it, okay?” 

She’s shaking now, well-aware that she’s probably crossing a thousand lines but determined to get it all out. 

“Because if I take that job, I’m not going to be some pawn in whatever internal struggle you guys are having this week. I mean, I hope you guys are past that, but if you’re not… If my job is to take care of Diana, I won’t let you guys put me-or her-in the middle of that. Okay?”

He stares at her for several long moments, and part of her is terrified that she’s lost the job before she ever even had it. Finally, though, he meets her eyes seriously. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he promises, and the air floods back into her in a rush. 

“Then… When do I start?”

He smiles broadly. “I think you already have. Can you come by my house tomorrow around 7? Diana’s staying with me right now,” he clarifies, and she nods. 

“I’ll be there.”

Well, that’s not exactly what she was looking for. But maybe it’ll be exactly what she needs. 

[fairydust-stuff]

Tape  Banana Ash & Yut Lung fan fiction

Warning this is a hurt comfort fic with implied Non con and Major character death though no more then the actual show. It also has one of the most fluffy dark endings, i've written.

“ Ah Mr Lee what a pleasant surprise,might i ask the reason for this call”

Ash, Eiji, Ibe and Max are huddled around taking advantage of the fact Ash bugged Golzine’s private phone while he was in the manor so now they could hear all of his calls. They heard a couple about Banana Fish but this one was interesting to say the least.

“ You know exactly why I'm calling…..” Yut Lung sounds on the verge of a breakdown. Ash would be lying if he wasn’t enjoying hearing him squirm.

“ I see you received my video then” Golzine says casually.

“ There’s no need for this…. sneakiness between allies” Yut Lung argues.

“ This of it as a lesson an elder educating a youngster on proper respect,” Golzine replies.

“ I apologize if my pursuing Ash without your leave offended you in any way” Yut Lung was all charm.

“ All is forgiven as long as you’ve learned to be a little less arrogant” Golzine promises.

“ I’ll try it appears i have much to learn,” Yut Lung says with forced humbleness.

“ I want complete use of your men, you don’t get involved unless I call for you. Also i want more frequent meetings between us” Golzine demands.

“ Of course and i presume this mishap will go away?” Yut Lung presses

“ Yut Lung you shouldn’t presume anything” there’s a cruel glee in Golzine’s tone.

The group disengages at the dial tone.

“ So Golzine has some kind of black mail material on him now, that’s karma” Max laughs.

Eiji is wearing that cute devilish grin of his.

“ Maybe he got caught embezzling funds from the foundation. Either way it may reveal some weakness we can exploit” Ash says

“Can you hack him?” Ibe asks

Ash smiles darkly “ Oh i can do better” he dials a number on his phone

“ Hello Sing, you wouldn’t happen to know Yut Lung’s password for his private account?”

“ Try Cao Zhi, he’s one of Yut Lung’s favorite poets,” Sing suggested. Ash did, nothing “ Anything else?” he asked

“ Song of Everlasting Sorrow?” Sing said with a shrug

“ Still nothing” Ash responds.

“ Despair and Courage” said Sing after a moment.

“ Bingo, thanks Sing!” Ash said

“ After what he did to my guys, i want to see that shit fall” Sing said.

Ash hangs up taking note of some stuff to check out later he finds the video and clicks on it.

Golzine and what appears to be Yut Lung ranting around his own dining room clearly drunk.

“ That’s the blackmail” Ash feels very disappointed

“ Given how arrogant that guy is it does make sense” Eiji says.

“ Maybe we can get a few laughs out of it” says Max, trying to look on the bright side.

“ Or at least something to annoy him next time he kidnaps me” Eiji brings up.

“ Woah a drunk little cat” one of Dino’s men cackles

“ Not a cat, i’m a snake” Yut Lung hisses at Dino, the group laughs.

“ Do you always consume this much wine?” Golzine asks pleasantly

“ i feel sad a lot” Yut Lung replies “ wine make it better,” he adds with a bitter laugh.

“ Why are you sad?” Golzine asks in a concerned tone

“ I don’t like Eiji, stupid, Eiji” he pouts.

“ Oh” Golzine says.

“ You stare a lot, your old enough to be my grandpa. Dad old enough to be mom’s grandpa” Yut Lung laughs again bitterly.

“ Your mother was young then” Golzine says

“ Where’s Sing?” He asked quietly

“ He abandoned you for Ash” Golzine says with false sympathy.

“ I liked Sing” Yut Lung says “ Why Sing leave me for Ash” he whispers.

“ Ash is better then you”Golzine says patiently then goes on a rant about Ash as his wonderful creation that makes Ash want to break the screen.

“ hate him for it” Yut Lung admits “ i kinda like him” he adds.

“ You like Ash?” Golzine asks

“ He doesn’t like me” Yut Lung says somberly he stumbles and Golzine catches him.

“ Easy there lets sit down” he leads a wobbly Yut Lung to the large sofa.

Where Blanca?” Yut Lung asks him

“ You dismissed him you were angry, he only wanted to help Ash” Golzine says.

“ I want Blanca” Yut Lung tries to leave the parlor and one of Golzine’s goons locks the doors. “ Let me ou….” One of Dino’s men covers his mouth and drags him back to the couch

“ Now, we were having fun. Here you like wine right” Dino pours him another glass. Ash suddenly feels a pit in his stomach suddenly remembering that Yut Lung is younger than him by at least two years. Why the hell did that never occur to him till now.

“ I don’t like you” Yut Lung insists but he takes another glass, his hands shake slightly.

“ So your a pretty liar then” Golzine says, taking one of his hands and rubbing it against his face. Yut Lung yanks it out of his grip.

Golzine looks at him amused “ I prefer you like this, you're usually so cold and aloft ” he says.

“ I wanna go” Yut Lung tries to get up but Golzine pushes him down.

“ Shhhhh” he undoes Yut Lungs hair, the camera zooms in it hits Ash one of Dino’s creeps is filming, this was planned.

“ No brothers dead no more” Yut Lungs tries to shove him off.

“ Your not strong like Ash just a trembling, broken mess” Golzine smiles viciously “ I saw through your little mask from the beginning” he pauses “ I was going to let you keep it, as long as you played nice but you had to be a brat”

“ Here hold the camera” says a cold voice Ash feels a chill run down his spine at the sound of the man from the gay bar. He’s wearing a mask but Ash knows that voice anywhere.

“ Get away from me! H…..” Yut Lung goes ballistic at the sight of him, Dino gags him.

“ Mr Golzine that makes it less fun” The man complains.

“His men are outside as long as he doesn’t call they won’t come.” Golzine says. “ Its the Lee way to only obey direct orders”

“ I’m afraid Mr Lee I'm the reason you're in this predicament, see Mr Golzine wanted to get back at you and as someone who’s observed his allies. I noticed your quite the alcoholic, I prompted him to take advantage of your vice” he purrs, touching the boys cheek. Yut Lung tries to bite him.

“ Incredible so much viciousness in something so delicate and soft to the touch” the man says.

“ He’s nothing compared to Ash Lynx” Golzine scoffs.

“ Still, I will enjoy him, why limit myself to one type of prey?” the man smiles savagely “ And after i’m done with him you’ll be aching for his tight little body”

“ True” Golzine laughs “ I love nothing more than a beautiful boy in distress”

Max slams his hand on the pause button looking furious. This knocks Ash out of horrified stupor enough to close the laptop completely.

No one says a dam word awkward silence fills the room. Ash should have suspected he knew Dino but Yut Lung had always seemed so icy and vicious, un touchable.

“ He’s like you” Cain and Sing had said. Maybe Ash had projected too much of his own unstoppable raging beast onto the other boy. Yut Lung had worn the mask well better then even Ash ever had. Everyone looked at each other waiting for someone to say something.

“ Its all my fault” Eiji gasps “ At the manor the night Shorter died, Dino had me and Yut Lung in his bed he was going to…….but then the phone rang” he tears up “ I was so confused he seemed so calm about it…..i didn’t understand”

“ Eiji its not your fault” Ibe insisted.

“ I didn’t want to understand!” Eiji says quietly.

“ Its mine, I knew he was like me,” Ash confessed. “ That’s why its so easy for me to hate him” the blond confesses.

“ No! It's no one's fault but the bastards who touched you! My god at least fifteen in Golzine’s bed. I don’t even want to think about how young he started doing that” Max exclaimed. Ash calls up Sing again “ Hey did you find anything” the boy asks

“ I want it gone, take your guys break into Golzine’s manor delete, smash every trace of that video” Ash orders.

“ Did that snake capture Eiji again?” Sing sighs.

“ No its just a really bad video Sing, one i would never use against an enemy” Ash insists.

“ That bad huh?” Sing replies. “ Ash did someone hurt Yut Lung?” he asked tightly

“ You sound almost concerned,” Ash says.

“ I know he hurt my guys but i just don’t like the thought of anyone harming him” Sing confessed. Ash flashed back to a drunken Yut Lung asking for Sing.

“ i think several people hurt him” Ash says after a moment

“ I think so too” Sing said sadly. “ I’ll get my guys on it” he added...

Ash cannot distract himself from waiting for the phone call confirming the mission was a success. He practically jumps to answer the phone when it rings “ Confirmed?” He asks quickly.

“ We ran into some trouble. Golzine increased his security since we last broke in, then Blanca showed up. He really saved our asses. Yut Lung sent him to do exactly what we were doing” Sing explained “ That guy is so cool!” the fourteen year old starts rambling about Blanca.

Of course Yut Lung wouldn’t just take his assault lying down like a good boy. He'd act sweet and submissive then use his resources to gain the upper hand. We really are quite similar.

“ Did you get everything?” Ash asks a bit impatiently

“ Yeah do you want the camera?” Sing asks seriously

“ Yes” Ash says after a moment. “ Sing do you know Yut Lung’s number?” he asked

Sing tells him and Ash dials.

“ Blanca is that you?” Yut Lung asks tentatively

“ Its Ash, I have your camera” Ash here’s a sharp exhale on the other end of the line.

“ At least your demands won’t be as heinous as Golzine’s” Yut Lung sounds more calm now. “ Banana fish? Me to leave Eiji alone? Use of my men? Helping you disappear?” he lists

“ A meeting” Ash says

“ Alright makes more sense to do it in person” Yut Lung responds casually. They set a time and a place…

“ Welcome Ash Lynx normally i’d greet you in the parlor but….” Yut Lung trails off.

“ You can't step foot in that room without flashbacks” Ash realizes as he stands in the dining room.

“ Please sit can i get you a drink or would you like to proceed?” Yut Lung asks

Ash hands him the camera Yut Lung gapes at him in silence. “ You’d give up your leverage for nothing” he says quietly.

“ When i was ten i had several of these videos. I’d have given anything for one person not to have put them up” Ash responds.

Yut Lung takes the camera and says “ Well at least this inconvenience is over with?” his tone is light.

“ What happened last night was not an inconvenience, it was rape and its happened to you and i multiple times” Ash states bluntly.

“ Stop ok, it was just something that happens in our world!” Yut Lung insists

“ That doesn’t make it right” Ash argues.

“ It was my fault, I shouldn't have gotten drunk around Papa Dino” Yut Lung says brokenly.

“ I ran away from home and accepted a ride from a stranger. We all make mistakes, sometimes those mistakes are costly. That doesn’t mean the bastards that hurt us aren’t the ones responsible” Ash argues.

“ I think this is the most we’ve said to each other” Yut Lung says thoughtfully.

Ash looks at him “ Want to smash the camera?” he asked

“ Together, for your ten year old self” Yut Lung responds.

“ Together, one, two three!” The two of them hurl the camera as hard as they can at the walls and proceed to stomp on it until the lens cracks and the frame breaks.

Then Ash’s phone rings “ Hello?” he asks

“ You little Lynx retrieving my camera like that” Golzine chuckles.

“ I’m not giving it to you bastard” Ash says calmly putting him on speaker.

“ No no hold on to your leverage just like I taught you. Do you want a piece of the action? I know how you like Asian boys” Dino continues.

“ Hello this is a piece of the action” Yut Lung says in his soft voice then he holds the phone up to the glass which he crushes under his foot.

“ You smashed up my camera you little whore!” Golzine growled

“ Considering your so hungry that you have to tie down young boys to get action. I’d say your the one who cannot go without” Ash taunts.

“ i hope you got something good out of it” Golzine grumbles.

“ I got nothing from it” Ash informs him.

“ But that’s not….”

“ Not what you’d do. You may have raised and fucked him up and i’ll admit some of your terrible teachings rubbed off on him, but Ash is not you. He’ll never be the kind of person who takes advantage of boys like me” Yut Lung said cooly.

Ash looked at him in surprise.

“ Looks like the kitten grew some claws” Golzine laughed “ You weren’t so gutsy last night, though you did make a lot of noise” he taunts.

“ So you molested me, so what? You and half of New York. I had claws long before then. If I didn't have claws I wouldn't have found a way to get through every abuse, you pathetic old perverts threw at me. I simply learned to sharpen the claws, i was born with” Yut Lung said boldly. Ash watched his face change into something darker

“ You have no claws, you're a sad old man chasing a teenage boy. He latched onto because, he was unable to deal with his own morality. You're not Ash’s greatest enemy, creator or father. You're just a pathetic little groupie obsessed with an idol. Since the Ash in your head doesn’t exist, the fact he chose to save me proves it”

“ I’ll kill you!” Golzine roars

“ Your not worthy of killing me” Yut Lung’s voice dripped with disdain, then he casually hung up on Golzine.

“ Did you just?” Ash was stunned

“ You’ve been feeding Dino’s ego this whole time with your campaign against him. I grew up with egoistic people , i’ve learned how their minds work” Yut Lung replied.

“ He still has to die” Ash pointed out.

“ I have an idea” Yut Lung said “ I need you to contact Blanca” he adds…

“ Rather rough Blanca” Yut Lung chides at the sight of a beaten Golzine hanging limply on the wall.

“ I failed to protect you just like i failed Ash” Blanca said remorsefully.

“ You helped me get the tape, you were there when it counted” Yut Lung put a hand on his arm.

“ Jeez Yue could you be more obvious!” Sing rolled his eyes

“ You're one to talk practically drooling in Ash’s wake” Yut Lung responded.

“ Sure you're not projecting?” Sing asks The two of them bicker until they're interrupted by Golzine’s groan.

“ Heeello!” Ash waves in a sarcastic cutesy way.

“ Ah so the creation destroys its creator and takes his place to build a great legacy” Golzine gloats.

“ Hi you piece of shit i’m Sing soo Ling” Sing says smacking his fists together

“ Doesn’t ring a bell” he said.

“ Shorter Wong was my cousin,” Sing said.

“ You mean that stupid street punk with the mowhawk” Golzine tastes his own blood. Sing gears up for another punch.

Yut Lung pulls Ash toward the door “ Come on Ash lets go get some ice cream” the blond looks at him as if he’s crazy but see’s the younger give him a trust me look. Then starts to follow him out.

“ What are you doing Ash? Your going to end me right?” Ash almost turns his head in Golzine's direction.

“ Keep walking” Yut Lung mutters Ash obeys him.

“ Ash isn’t going to be killing you, i am” Sing says, punching him again.

“ What i’m the great King Pin of New york, that’s all i get ended by some punk?” Golzine asks “ Ash, Ash?”

Ash continues to follow Yut Lung toward the door “ i overpowered you, i beat you down, i made you!” Golzine yells “ where are you going, you drunken slut?” he demands.

Yut Lung continues to lead Ash out “ You're not even going to watch, i’m your greatest enemy and you don’t even want to watch my demise?” Golzine asks

Yut Lung pauses“ Ash, i just remembered i have a hair appointment, we can do ice cream afterwards right?” he asked

“ Of course Yut Lung” Ash says then opens the door. “ Hair appointments, ice cream Ash Ash Ash Ash!” the blond slams the door shut.

“ I cann’t believe that worked” Ash says as a gunshot echoes from the other side of the door.

“ I told you, people with big ego’s hate being ignored” Yut Lung collapses against the door with relief, his face tight with tension, his body shaking.

“ You were really bothered by seeing him huh” Ash says.

“ I can still feel him all over” Yut Lung says “ I can even taste him” there’s a look of broken revulsion on his face. “ I couldn’t let him win through,” the younger boy insists.

“ You did good” Ash informs him.

“ He won’t be the last, there're so many bastards in our world and i’m trapped here with them. I tried to become like you, fierce, ruthless to never look back or hesitate. No matter what i still end up helpless at the mercy of some bigger beast” Yut Lung confesses.

“ Is that why you want me to kill you?” Ash asked him

“ You have a chance at freedom, that's why I hate you!” Yut Lung confesses tears drip down his cheek. “ You have the power to live freely, no matter what. My blood is always going to tie me to this Family. The only way i’m leaving this life is in a box”

Ash turns to him “ You can be the youngest mafia boss to retire in history. In exchange you stop tormenting Eiji and everyone” the blond stresses.

“ But how would i live? As much as i hate it, i’m codependent on my family’s wealth” Yut Lung admits.

" Leave that to me" Ash promises...

" i cann't believe i'm taking Yut Lung Lee to Japan?" Eiji sighs

" He'll blend in better then i would" Ash points out. " Lots of Chinese people live in Japan its not that unsual"

" He hates me and i'm not exactly fond of him either" Eiji points out.

" Too bad because i was thinking of adopting him" Ash says

Eiji stares at him in horror " don't even joke about that" he shutters.

" You get to boss him around big brother Eiji" Ash says.

" Since when did i agree to that?" Yut Lung scowls clutching his luggage a very small portion of the things he owned. He'd have to get used to the simple life, Eiji told him cheerfully.

" You go to Japan your under Eiji's care, so you have to obey him and Ibe" Ash says.

" What if they do something stupid like make friends with the Yakuza?" Yut Lung asks

" If that happens you are in change until i get there" Ash agrees after a long pause.

" Thank you Ash, for everything" Yut Lung tells him sincerely before stepping onto the train that will take them to the air port.

" I have to sort out some things here, then i'll join you two" Ash promises. He stands there and waves good bye to both of them.

" Don't be too long, i may start experimenting with putting certain herbs in Eiji Chan's tea" Yut Lung yells out the window!

" i heard that you little shit!" Eiji yells back

Ash laughs then turns and walks back to his concrete playground his phone rings " Hey honey just finishing up skinning a Foxx" the man says cheerfully.

 " Good " Ash hisses.

 " Need anything else while i'm in town?" Blanca asked him

 " i need your help with persuading a certain Chinese crime organization to let the head of the Lee family retire early, without a bullet to the head, got any ideas?" Ash asks him

[purplesurveys]

868

Favorite beverage: Just your good ol’ cold water. If I wanna treat myself I’ll get milk tea. When was the last time you had ketchup? Ooh I don’t remember...it would probably be 3-4 weeks ago. Or whenever the last time we had lumpia was, because I like drowning that shit in ketchup. Have you ever had a red hotdog? Yeah frozen hotdogs is a favorite snack here and they’re usually red. We usually have them for breakfast, it’s served in parties, it’s in every school caf, etc. What is the most recent gift you've been given? So my uncle has his budding cooking business and sells different dishes everyday. His most recent bestseller is burnt basque cheesecake and while I’ve always wanted my own because it looks SO good, I just haven’t had the money to allot for it. I was really surprised when my grandma called me up today and told me she had ordered an entire cake for me as a graduation gift :) I asked my dad to pick it up from her place this afternoon and it’s crazy delicious.

Is what you're wearing comfortable? Yeup, now that it’s cooler. I sweated through my top when it was hot earlier though, and that wasn’t a comfortable situation at. all.

Did you leave the house today? Nah. I did step out to help my dad with the groceries, but that was it for today’s adventure. Are there bumper stickers on your car? No. If I wanna put stickers on my car I would rather have them on my rear window, and not directly on my car. Are you watching tv right now? What? The dining room TV is turned on but I’m not watching; my dad likes to have it on to listen to the evening news while he cooks dinner. Are you wearing anything blue? Nope, it’s all black for me today. Do you have a job? Not yet. Is your car messy? No. There’s really no reason for it to be, I’ve only driven out once since March. When did you last have whipped cream? I...can’t recall, actually. We don’t have whipped cream at home and I don’t think I ever ordered anything with whipped cream on it shortly before lockdown. How far away is the closest house? 10-20 steps away, depending on how big your stride is. What street do you live on? I’m not dropping that on here. The most I’ll tell you is that our streets are named after tropical cities, haha.

What is your favorite flavor of smoothie? Used to not like smoothies 100% because of the presence of fruits in them, but thanks to my friends Apple and Ed introducing me to Go Salads I’ve come to really like their Breakfast Smoothie – which, after looking up their menu just now, has apple, banana, cinnamon, oats, coco sugar, chia seeds, greens, and soy milk. Are you dating anyone? Yes ma’am. What color is you computer? Silver. Do you own an iPod? What color is it? Technically I still do but only because I haven’t thrown it out. It’s a blue iPod Nano. What is the most recent picture on your phone/camera of: A photo of the aforementioned burnt basque cheesecake. I was planning to post a Facebook status to promote my tito’s business and show my support, so I asked my sister to take a few aesthetic shots of the cake for my post to look presentable. Have you ever shot a gun? No. I’ve shot a fake one that belonged to Athenna’s dad, which he used for like target practice or something. What temperature is it? 31C.

Do you know anyone with a third nipple? No but Harry Styles has four, HAHAHA. There’s your random fact for the day. What do your parents do for a living? My dad’s an executive sous chef and my mom’s a secretary in her specific department in the hotel she works in. Both have always been in the hotel and restaurant industry. Have you ever had a pet that had babies? No. We’ve avoided female dogs because we know we’re not capable of caring for newborn puppies, so instead of potentially being reckless owners we’ve just not had female pets altogether. Which grocery store is closest to you? A local mall chain that has their own grocery, SM. Do you have a hamper in your room? Nah, my parents prefer a general hamper in the bathroom. Do you know anyone that's a nurse? Yes, I have several aunts and as far as I know, one cousin :) I feel really bad for them especially in these times, but they’re such strong people and they just keep powering through and powering through. Do you know someone with the name Alaina? Not that I can recall. What color is the blanket on your bed? Off-white. What are your parent's middle names? No thank you. Have you ever broken a bone? Never. Do you wear braces or glasses? I wore braces in high school, and I’ve had glasses since Grade 5. What color are they? I picked a different color for my braces for every monthly visit cause it made me feel quirkly; my glasses’ frame is dark brown. Are you currently reading a book? Not currently, no. When did you last get your blood drawn? Ughhhhh, cringed reading this haha. Last May when I needed to get a blood test done. Have you ever done hard drugs? Nopes. How many contacts are in your phone? I just know I have a lot, but Apple doesn’t tell you exactly how many and I don’t feel like counting all of them right now. Does your toilet have a seat cover? It has a lid cover, but not a seat cover. What's currently on your grocery list? My dad did the groceries today so we’re pretty stocked rn. What things do you take with you everywhere? My glasses, car and house keys, phone, wallet. Do you know someone that is/was over 100 years old? Gab’s great-grandma was like 106 or 107 by the time she passed. Was your HS principal a girl or a boy? Girl. I went to an all-girls school so it would honestly be a little peculiar if we had a male principal. Have you ever eaten a raw egg? Nah. I wanna try it out though, just for funsies. Do you own any rings? Gab got me this cheap ring for the shits and giggles, but I stopped wearing it when it started turning pink and smelling weird. So no.

If you were to get a new puppy what would you name her? We did get a new puppy! ;) But should we get another, the name will depend on the puppy’s attitude and overall vibe. That’s what we did with Cooper, who was named after Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory because he had been a smartass from the very first minute we played with him. Have you eaten fruit today? No. What about milk? Even more nope haha. I can’t have it all the time. What letter does your state start with? We don’t have states. My province starts with the letter R. Could you list all 50 states? I’ve listed them down on countlesssssss occasions but I always only come up with 35-45 states. I’ve observed that the ones I always forget about are the states in the middle of the map/country-ish states hahaha. What about their capitals? I know a good number of the states’ capitals, but I’ll still undoubtedly do worse. What internet browser do you use? I’ve been on Chrome for the longest time. Do you know anyone that lives in Wyoming? I don’t think so. Do you smoke cigarettes? Yes, starting this year lol. Which person you know has the most unique name? I’m sure I know more unique ones out there but the first names that came to mind are friends of mine named Bernadean, Jeuel (pronounced Jay-well), and Jabes. Oh and I also have an aunt named Marheedoll. Do you know someone that's missing a limb? I don’t think so, no. Do you have facial hair? I do not. Are you a bad person? Not when it comes down to it. I have my petty moments though. What was the last swear you said? I almost yelled the word puta in front of my dad earlier, but I slurred the word and made random noises to avoid saying the full thing haha so it kinda went like puuuuutehshahjskhf. Have you ever called the police on someone? No. What is the most amount of pets you've had at one time? Three – one dog and two birds. When did you last check your email? Last night. I wanted to check if I received any email from the college. Have you ever had a 3rd degree burn? Nope and that sounds so painful, I never want to sustain one. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? I haven’t. How long is your hair? Right now it reaches only my collarbones. I had it cut fairly recently, so it’s still on the shorter side. Do you lock your doors at night? The doors on the first floor. Does your bedroom have a lock? It does but my mom is such a big sissy about locks and says that “there’s nothing to hide/be private about” since we’re all relatives. She really shouldn’t have gotten a lock for my room if I wasn’t allowed to use it anyway... What do you have at your bedside? I have a rattan trunk that stores all my childhood knickknacks like board games and encyclopedias; then on the other side is a drawer with my home clothes and other knickknacks on the lower drawers. I got some hoarding tendencies from my grandma, so a lot of the stuff I keep in the drawer really has no reason behind my keeping them until today. How big is your bed? Not big at all, it’s just twin-sized. I am so investing on a big-ass bed when I have my own place. Do you know someone that was murdered? I didn’t know her personally but an alumna from my old school got stabbed to death. I don’t know the details but I think she got stabbed because she had gadgets on her, which makes you an easy target for criminals here. The only reason I know her is because my school would do tributes for her from time to time, so I really can’t tell you anything more other than she was stabbed. Do you know someone who's pregnant? I don’t think so. Do you wear a watch? Used to, but I kept losing them. What was your first pet? A pair of goldfish. How much jewelry do you own? Not a lot. The ones I do wear are technically my mom’s too; she just likes sharing them with me. What is the closest purple thing? Probably the ube halaya in the fridge. Green? A piece of Cooper’s toy. What time is it? It isssss 8:43 PM. What is your ideal profession? Lawyer. How tall are you? A little over 5 feet. Have you ever gotten x-rays? Probably once when I was a kid, then around two or three times before I started college. Do you wear gloves in the winter? I imagine I would but we don’t get winter. Do you consider yourself smart? Academic-wise, yep. I’m good at tests and memorizing and I generally enjoy reading educational content. Are you good at algebra? Yeah but I wanna keep it at algebra and geometry lol, I don’t have the patience for calculus and trig. What color eyes are the prettiest? I’ve always loved green/olive green eyes. Are your teeth straight? One of my front teeth protrudes a bit, but that’s all my fault because I lost my retainers back when I still had to use them. My teeth are otherwise fine. Do you like chocolate milk? LOVE IT Do you own a bike? We own a family bike and I’m free to use it, I just don’t because I don’t know how lmao Are you taller than your mom? No. I thought I’d grow taller than her because I had an intense growth spurt at one point, but it never happened. Have you ever been engaged? No. What, in your opinion, is the ugliest name? I’m not a fan of names that end in -leigh, but I don’t think they’re ugly names.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Favorite beverage: Coffeeee. Brewed and Starbucks Doubleshot coffee energy drink.

When was the last time you had ketchup? Hmm. It’s been awhile. Have you ever had a red hotdog? No. Do they taste like regular hot dogs, just red? I’ve never heard of those.

What is the most recent gift you've been given? My birthday is at the end of this month, so I might get something then. I honestly can’t think of anything I want, though. Is what you're wearing comfortable? Yes.

Did you leave the house today? It’s only 6:44AM, but no I won’t be going anywhere later. I haven’t gone anywhere since my doctor appointment back in May.

Are there bumper stickers on your car? I don’t have a car. I wouldn’t want to put stickers on it if I did, though.

Are you watching tv right now? What? Roseanne is on, but I’m not watching it at the moment cause I’m listening to an ASMR video.

Are you wearing anything blue? Nope.

Do you have a job? No.

Is your car messy?.

When did you last have whipped cream? Last month sometime with hot chocolate.

How far away is the closest house? If you step out my front door and turn to your left it’d take like 3 steps to the neighbor’s door.

What street do you live on? Uh no, I’m definitely not giving that out. What is your favorite flavor of smoothie? Strawberry and banana. Or just either of those by itself. Chocolate banana smoothies are good, too. Wow, it’s been like 5 years since I’ve had a smoothie.

Are you dating anyone? Nope.

What color is you computer? Silver, but I have a rose gold case on it.

Do you own an iPod? What color is it? I have a black iPod Touch stored away that I haven’t used since like 2012.

What is the most recent picture on your phone/camera of: My doggo.

Have you ever shot a gun? Once. I went to a shooting range with some friends years ago. 

What temperature is it? 64F. Do you know anyone with a third nipple? I guess it’s possible. I wouldn’t know. Or care to know.

What do your parents do for a living? My mom is a manager at Walgreens and my dad works at a mechanic shop.

Have you ever had a pet that had babies? Nope. 

Which grocery store is closest to you? A local one.

Do you have a hamper in your room? Yes.

Do you know anyone that's a nurse? No.

Do you know someone with the name Alaina? No.

What color is the blanket on your bed? Rose gold.

What are your parent's middle names? I’m not sharing that.

Have you ever broken a bone? Yes.

Do you wear braces or glasses? I wear glasses. I’ve had ‘em since I was 9.

What color are they? Black rimmed.

Are you currently reading a book? No, but I’ve meaning to start one. I have the last book in a series I’ve been into to read.

When did you last get your blood drawn? Last year.

Have you ever done hard drugs? Nope. All I’ve done is weed.

How many contacts are in your phone? *shrug* Not many.

Does your toilet have a seat cover? No.

What's currently on your grocery list? Creamer, Hostess coffee cakes (I’ve been obsessed with those), and these Healthy Choice pesto pasta meals.

What things do you take with you everywhere? My bag with my wallet, phone, medicine, and hand sanitizer. And now if I were to go anywhere (which I don’t), I’d also have to bring a mask.

Do you know someone that is/was over 100 years old? No.

Was your HS principal a girl or a boy? Girl.

Have you ever eaten a raw egg? Uh, no. Ew.

Do you own any rings? Yeah, several.

Have you eaten fruit today? No. It’s been awhile since I’ve had any fruit. 

What about milk? No. I don’t drink milk. The only time I have any, which by the way I’m lactose intolerant so I use vanilla almond or soy milk, is if I have a coffee drink from somewhere that has milk, with cereal, or if I’m dipping something like cookies or brownies in it.

What letter does your state start with? C.

Could you list all 50 states? Yeah, easily. And in alphabetical order. 

What about their capitals? No.

What internet browser do you use? Chrome.

Do you know anyone that lives in Wyoming? No.

Do you smoke cigarettes? No.

Which person you know has the most unique name? I have a few family members with pretty unique names.

Do you know someone that's missing a limb? No.

Do you have facial hair? No.

Are you a bad person? No, but I could definitely do and be better. 

What was the last swear you said? “Fuck.”

Have you ever called the police on someone? Yeah. Once was to report a suspected drunk driver and the other was to report domestic abuse that I witnessed by someone who was also driving. 

What is the most amount of pets you've had at one time? I’ve only had one dog at a time. Well, I have a fish tank full of fish and a dog when I was a kid. 

When did you last check your email? Yesterday.

Have you ever had a 3rd degree burn? No, but I’ve had 2nd degree burns.

Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? Yes.

How long is your hair? It’s down to my butt.

Do you lock your doors at night? Of course. They’re always locked.

Does your bedroom have a lock? Yeah. 

What do you have at your bedside? A table with my medicine, pill crusher, bottle of soda to take medicine with, bottles of water, a glass with a straw to drink the water, nail clippers, and body spray. Those things are always there. I also currently have a bowl from last night and a my Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink can that I will take out when I get up later. Oh, and I have a wet washcloth cause I get hot even with my fans on.

How big is your bed? It’s a full.

Do you know someone that was murdered? Yes.

Do you know someone who's pregnant Not personally. I do know someone who just had a baby, though.

Do you wear a watch? Nope.

What was your first pet? A dog. 

How much jewelry do you own? A decent amount.

What is the closest purple thing? Hmm. There isn’t anything.

Green? Nothing green either.

What time is it? 7:19AM. D: I need to go to beddddd.

What is your ideal profession? I don’t know what I want to do. :/

How tall are you? Like 5′4.

Have you ever gotten x-rays? Countless xrays, the regular kind, CT scans, and MRIs, throughout my life.

Do you wear gloves in the winter? Very rarely cause it’s hard to wheel in them. I do have a pair that has those bumps on them for easy grip and that helps. Honestly, I don’t feel I really need them. 

Do you consider yourself smart? Meh. Are you good at algebra? Noooo. Me and math never got along.

What color eyes are the prettiest? I love blue and green eyes.

Are your teeth straight? Yeah.

Do you like chocolate milk? No.

Do you own a bike? Nope.

Are you taller than your mom? No. Most people are taller than me.

Have you ever been engaged? Nopeee. Not even close to that point in a relationship cause I’ve never had a serious relationship.

What, in your opinion, is the ugliest name? Well, that’s just mean. 

[justlookfrightened]

Butter My Biscuits

Prompt from @ noelfieldingisprettierthanme:  Remember when Sally Field kept trying to hook her son up with Adam Rippon? Alicia Zimmermann is just as gungho about setting up her openly bisexual son Jack with famous tv chef Eric Bittle 

Prompt from @cyn2k:  I am so down with the Zimmerparents attempting to set up Jack with Bitty in any incarnation - chef, TV host, dancer, vlogger, skater, friendly neighborhood baker, anything. Because you know Bob would be just as bad as Alicia.

Edited to add: When I wrote this, I forgot the lovely and talented @wrathofthestag already wrote a fic where Bitty has a different kind of baking show called “Butter My Biscuits.” You should read it. We’ll wait.

Alicia huffed a breath, trying to dislodge the strand of hair that was dangling into her right eye. When that didn’t work, she rubbed at it with her forearm, trying to keep her butter-and-flour-covered hands from her face.

“Siri, stop the video,” she said, and the image on her iPad screen went silent and still.

She wiped her hands on a towel, breathed for a moment, and thought about pouring a drink from the bottle of vodka she’d pulled from the freezer to use in the pie crust.

Eric Bittle, host of “Butter My Biscuits,” had acknowledged the temptation when he mixed his dough on the screen.

“I have to tell y’all, drunk baking can be fun, but I wouldn’t recommend it for your first — or even your fiftieth — pie crust. Save the good vodka for while the pie is in the oven, or when you’re making zucchini bread or something like that.”

Alicia knew from watching every episode of “Butter My Biscuits” ever produced that Eric thought the best thing to do with zucchini bread was not to make it at all.

With her hands slightly cleaner and a renewed commitment to follow Eric’s instructions precisely, she restarted the video and concentrated on rolling the dough in smooth, even strokes. When her crust was the proper size and thickness, she watched Eric fold his crust gently around his rolling pin and lay it in the pie plate. She stopped the video and watched it again before trying it herself.

Not half bad, even if it wasn’t as pretty as Eric’s.

Now for the top crust.

“Hi, Maman.”

Crap. She’d pressed down too hard and ripped it.

“Siri, stop the video. Hello, Jack. How was your walk?”

“Good,” Jack said. “It’s less boring if I take my camera.”

“What did you get pictures of?” Alicia asked as Jack pulled the camera out of its bag, no doubt in preparation for showing her several dozen artfully framed photos of geese.

“Just some stuff by the river,” Jack said, lifting the camera and clicking the shutter before she was aware he was about to take a picture. “You look like you’re having fun. Is that the baker guy you’re always watching? The one with the accent?”

“Eric Bittle,” Alicia said. “And yes. I like his voice. He always says anyone can learn to make a homemade pie crust, so I’m putting his theory to the test.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Jack said.

He stood and watched for a few moments when Alicia started the video again, only leaving after Eric did a little victory shimmy after he got his pie in the oven.

Alicia put hers into bake as well, then made herself a martini to drink while she cleaned up. Jack would have helped if she asked — he really was a lovely man, and she and Bob had every right to be proud. He’d been home for three weeks now, almost recovered from the knee injury that ended his season. He’d be leaving soon, as he was about ready to transition to more serious training.

Alicia was glad he’d come to spend time with her and Bob in Montreal instead of moping around his condo in Providence. Jack really needed to get out more. After he’d come out as bisexual — part of the whole mess when Kent got outed by Deadspin — he hadn’t dated anyone, male or female. At first, he just wanted to let the story die, she had thought. But Kent had brazened it out, seen with a different guy on his arm every month, it seemed like. Once that got old for the paparazzi, two more players had come out.

At this point, she was pretty sure no one would care if Jack stepped out with a nice boy.

A nice boy like Eric Bittle, cute and blond and just Jack’s type. Eric Bittle, who had giggled on camera when he said, “Now, some of y’all have asked how I learned to bake. It was my MooMaw who taught me. She always said the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and that sounded like a good plan to me.”

She took another sip of her martini and pulled her iPad towards her. She didn’t want to start anything if Eric was happily coupled, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t.

Nope. He had broken up with someone six months ago and was quoted several times lamenting his single status, most recently only two weeks ago. The boyfriend -- caught on camera cheating with a dancer in the Boston Ballet -- was bigger than he was, although Eric was kind of small, so that didn’t mean much.

The timer went off and she pulled her pie from the oven. It wasn’t as pretty as Eric’s -- and she hadn’t even attempted a lattice or those cute cut-outs -- but she thought it was pretty good, especially for a first effort.

She snapped a picture and opened Twitter before she could think better of it.

if the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, does that go for you, too @ButterMyBiscuits? Asking for @jzimmermann1!

And she uploaded the picture.

Alicia served the pie for dessert, to the general approval of Jack and Bob, and didn’t think any more of it.

Until the next morning, when Jack sat across the breakfast table with his phone out.

“Are you really trying to set me up with that baker guy?” he said. “Etienne called me. My Twitter is blowing up, he said.”

“Etienne?”

“He handles my Twitter account for me.”

Of course Jack didn’t tweet for himself.

“Ah. I may have suggested that Eric Bittle take an interest in you.”

“The baker on TV?” Jack said. “With the accent?”

“Yes,” Alicia said. “The cute one.”

“I’ll tell him to disregard it,” Jack said. “I love you, Maman, but I don’t need you to find me dates.”

“Really?” Alicia said. “How long has it been since you had a date?”

“I’ve been laid up.”

“And before that?”

“What are we talking about?” Bob walked in, still in workout clothes, from the gym in the basement.

“How long since Jack here went on a date,” Alicia said.

“Been a while, eh?” Bob said.

“Maman tried to set me up with TV chef,” Jack said. “On Twitter.”

He paused while he tapped at his phone.

“There. I apologized for you and asked him to disregard your message.”

“Um, Jack, how did you do that?” Bob asked.

“I sent him a message,” Jack said.

“Yes, but how?” Bob asked.

“On Twitter?”

“You two follow each other?” Alicia asked. “I had no idea you liked baking that much.”

“No? I just found his tweet and replied.”

“Oh, Jack,” Alicia said. “You’d better call Etienne and tell him what you did. Before everyone who follows you and Eric loses their mind. But first, show me his tweet.”

Jack held out his phone wordlessly.

The tweet on top said, if @jzimmermann1 can make a pie like this, I’ll be impressed. Almost as impressed as I was by his goal in Game 7 last year. But tell me the truth, @AliciaActs -- who made the pie?

Jack’s reply was underneath

My mother made the pie after watching your show. I’m sorry she bothered you. Please ignore it. But the pie was delicious.

A hundred likes and fifty replies already. At least Jack had notifications turned off. No doubt her own mentions were exploding as well.

“Why don’t I set this so you follow him?” Alicia said. “Then maybe he’ll follow you and you can communicate in private.”

She followed Eric Bittle, and noticed that he already followed Jack. Which meant Jack could have DM’d him. Now he would think Jack didn’t want to talk privately.

She opened a direct message and handed the phone back to Jack.

“When you replied to his tweet, everyone could see it,” Alicia explained. “You might want to apologize for that -- in private. In a direct message.”

“Need help?” Bob asked. “Gotta work that old Zimmermann charm.”

“No,” Jack said. “Please. No.”

******************

Alicia checked to make sure Jack’s room was ready and set the table for dinner. He was coming to spend one last weekend before training camp started, to celebrate the fact that he had been cleared to start camp with the team.

“I should be there around six p.m.,” Jack told her when he called the week before. “It would be better if we just eat at home that night.”

“You have a workout in the morning?” Alicia guessed. “I’m sure you’ll be tired. Your father can make something on the grill.”

“Fine,” Jack said. “But I’ll bring dessert.”

Alicia sliced peppers and zucchini to go on the grill when the meat came off, and put together a green salad.

“Bob?” she called. “Is the grill ready? Jack should be here soon.”

“Just about,” Bob said, stepping in from the deck. “I’ll put the steaks on after he gets here. Did you make a pie for dessert like you’ve been practicing?”

“Jack said he’d bring dessert.”

“Jack? Dessert? Are you sure he’s not just bringing a bag of fresh fruit?”

“He said dessert.”

The door opened, and Jack poked his head in.

“Maman? Papa? Do you mind if I brought an extra guest?”

Following Jack was Eric Bittle, dressed in neatly pressed slacks and a crisp shirt with a red bow tie. In his hands was a white pastry box.

“Hey, y’all,” he said. “Jack here said you liked my pie?”

[ncityislove]

In Bloom

➳Pairing: Playboy!Jaemin x Florist!reader

➳Genre: Fluff and angst, angst and fluff

➳Word Count: 9K

Requested? yep

A/N: I hate myself so much for posting this so late but I sold my laptop thinking I would be able to buy a new and guess what? LOL I still don’t have one :) I’m using this old broken one my dad has and hopefully it wont die on me while I’m writing this. Good news is while I’ve been saving for a new laptop I’ve been writing on my phone so I have some other goodies ready and qeued to go!

"Oh, please," Xiaojun said, shuffling around on the other line.

You winced at the loud bang blaring from the speaker, throwing your arm out so that the phone was a safe distance from your ear. Xiaojun was doing laundry which was a rare activity to find him doing.

Normally you washed all the clothes to prevent any...mishaps. Xiaojun had a bit of a rough time when it came to simple house chores, as his mom always took care of that for him. You tried to teach him on several occasions but somehow the loads always mysteriously came out shrunken or pink when they hadn't gone in that way.

You pressed the phone back to your ear at the same moment he turned on the dryer, a beeping noise nearly causing you to go deaf. He cursed, apologizing.

"You've got to have more confidence than that....be a man!"

You frowned at this, slowing your pace when you realized you were nearing your destination, a feeling of unease washing over you. "I can't help it," you whined. "It's my first day."

Xiaojun sighed. "You already made it through the interview, y/n. You got the job...so what is there to be nervous about?"

Your stomach gurgled as the most embarrassing scenarios run through your mind. Shaking the owner's hand with sweaty palms, smiling at the customers with food stuck in your teeth, giving people the wrong change, trying to push the door open when it was the pulling kind. You clenched the bottom of your tee, wrinkling your freshly ironed shirt.

"Ugh, I think I'm gonna sick," you grumbled.

"Hey, shouldn't you be there by now?" you could tell by the tone of his voice his cheeks were lifted in that teasing smile.

You pressed your lips together, letting out a breath before finally ending the call. You could do this, right? This wasn't your first job--what was there to be nervous about? You trekked down the littered sidewalk taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. It didn't work.

The green neon sign hanging above the door signified your arrival and you gulped.

N BLOOM

You let out a shaky breath as you craned your neck up at the sign, reaching for the door handle. A chime went off as you pulled the door open and you stepped in, glancing around, relieved no one was in sight. You checked your teeth in the camera of your phone before maneuvering through the narrow path full of greenery. The entrance was full of all the typical houseplants: jade plants, sword ferns, spider plants, rubber figs, etc. After passing through there, the path widened, exposing the coffee-colored tiles. Your eyes analyzed the brightly colored flowers in your passing, noting the Peonies needed to be watered as the soil looked just as shriveled up as the plant itself.

You waited at the register, unsure if you should go into the back room. Of course, you'd been there for the interview but it still seemed a bit impolite. You could hear a voice nearing you, talking to someone—on the phone maybe?—whoever it was they were coming out and your stomach began to flip again.

The owner, Taeil, emerged with an ancient-looking house phone. His hair was messy as if he had run his hand through it several times and his lips were turned downwards in a frown. His dark eyes met yours briefly, a smile flickering across his face, waving for you to follow him behind the counter.

"I know they aren't in season yet, but I'm just letting you know what I want ahead of time so that...no...no. Yes, I'm aware—I'm not an idiot." Taeil handed you an apron, trapping his phone in between his shoulder and cheek as he helped you put it on.

"I'm just asking for the seeds it's not like I'm asking you to plant them for me," Taeil said, his voice sounding bitter. He gently tied the strings behind your back and lifted his hand towards the hall mirror.

"Take a look," he said before turning and murmuring something you didn't catch into the phone. You took the short walk to the hallway to see an out-of-place floor length mirror. This wasn't so bad, right? Taeil seemed nice—when you weren't pissing him off, that is—and the apron was actually kind of cute. It was striped and crossed at the back, resting just above your knees. It wasn't anything like the filthy, plain black one Taeil was sporting.

When you returned, Taeil had ended his phone call and was digging through a drawer. You stood idly behind him as he pulled out a name tag and handed it to you.

"Y/n!!" he exclaimed, making you jump. "Sorry I didn't get to welcome you properly but I'd be glad to give you a tour of the place."

You nodded eagerly and followed Taeil around the small shop as he explained where everything was and the functions of the tools. Thankfully, it was pretty easy to grasp since you had experience with gardening.

Both of your parents were botanists and their love of plants was passed down to you. Although they were retired now, they continued to study through their own garden in their backyard. You had memories of being in that garden since you could crawl and you often found yourself spending most of your time there. It was something about the fresh air and the serene and pure beauty of the plants that made you feel at peace.

After the short tour, you sat at the counter and filled out the last of your paperwork to finalize your new position. It was a relief none of the crazy things you imagined actually happened although there was a slim chance it would to begin with.

Taeil took the papers when you were done, beaming at you. "So what do you think so far? Do you think you can handle working here?"

"Mmm...I think so. I've always liked gardening so it feels like I'm just doing a hobby."

Taeil stacked the papers against the countertop. "Glad to hear it."

You nodded your head awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. Taeil maneuvered around you to squat down and put the papers in a filing cabinet. "So," he said grunting as he stood back up. "Let me brief you on the customers while no one's here yet."

"Okay," you agreed, sitting in the nearby wooden chair when Taeil sat on the stool next to you.

"The store isn't ever crowded really, but we do have some regulars who I think it's really important to know of. Like Ms. Lee, for example," he clasped his hands together. "Ms. Lee has been coming here for years, twice a month for fresh flowers. Mostly daisies but sometimes she'll pick up a fern from time to time."

You nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"Oh! How could I forget? My best customer! He used to come every two weeks or so but now he visits almost twice a week."

Your eyebrows raised on their own accord and you couldn't hide the shock on your face even if you wanted to. Twice a week? What would a person do with THAT many flowers? Did he work for a funeral home or something?

Taeil chuckled at your expression. "Pretty crazy, right? His name's Jaemin. Pretty nice guy, cute as a button but I wouldn't trust the guy with my life."

You cocked your head to one side. "What do you mean by that?"

"Ah," he said, suddenly serious. "He's a pretty sneaky guy, I'd say. If I were you, I wouldn't get too close to Jaemin. He's flirted with all my past female employees."

Your face contorted into a look of displeasure. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. I can't stand men like that."

Taeil looked content with your response but still unsure.

"Trust me," you assured him. "I don't fall for those type of guys."

"Well, you haven't met Jaemin," Taeil said just as his pocket pinged. He slid his phone out, glancing at the screen before scowling. He gave you an apologetic smile before excusing himself to the back to make a phone call.

You got to your feet, using the spare time to check out the cash register. Taeil hadn't taught you how to use it yet and you didn't want to look like a complete idiot when he decided to. It wasn't long before the bell above the door jingled, alerting you of a new customer. Your heart dropped when you realized Taeil hadn't returned and you still didn't know how to do anything.

"Yeah, about that," said the customer. "How about you skip the party to hang out with me?" You could see the customer walk further into the store but the leaves of the ferns blocked everything but the top of his head.

"I've got a gift for you," he said pausing at the roses. You caught a glimpse of his face through the thick of the orchids but couldn't quite make out his features.

"Great. I'll text you, okay?" he said, ending the call. "Yo, Taeil!" he called out peering around the flowers.

You ducked behind the counter praying he didn't see you. Your heart thudded in your chest as you wondered why the hell you were hiding from a customer in the first place.

"Taeil, 're you there?" he asked wondering towards the front. You decided it would be better to show yourself now before he makes it to the register and finds you curled up behind the stool. You sprung up just as he reached the counter.

"Can I help you?" you said giving him a practiced smile.

The man seemed taken aback by your sudden presence before he responded. "Oh," he scratched his head. "I thought no one was here. I was calling..."

"Sorry, I didn't notice before, I was....tying my shoe," you said mumbling the last bit. Your face started to heat up at how dumb you sounded. It was your first customer and you were already screwing it up.

"I didn't know Taeil hired a new employee. I'm Jaemin, by the way," he said holding his hand out.

You shook it, retracting yours quickly when he held on a little too long.

So this was Jaemin. You didn't think you'd meet him so soon. Taeil wasn't wrong when he said he was handsome. In fact, he was a little too handsome. His hair was a pretty golden brown—almost blond—and his thick eyelashes kissed the tops of his cheeks when he looked down. It was almost unfair how sculpted his face was. You shook your head when you realized you were checking him out; you couldn't let yourself get carried away, remembering Taeil's warning.

"Nice to meet you," you said walking around the counter. "Did you want to purchase some flowers?"

"Ah, yes. Six black roses, please."

You nodded, grabbing a pair of scissors lying around and followed Jaemin to the roses. It was when you actually reached them that you realized you didn't know how to cut them. You had your own way of cutting flowers but what if Taeil liked to cut them a specific way? Maybe there was a proper way of cutting them you didn't know about?

"Is there something wrong?" Jaemin asked from behind you.

You opened your mouth to respond before the sound of a door opening and closing interrupted you.

"Back again so soon?"Taeil's voice boomed across the room.

Jaemin leaned against the table supporting the flowers and it wobbled, nearly giving you a heart attack.

"I got worried you'd miss me too much so I stopped by."

Taeil scoffed as he made his way over to you and Jaemin. "As if. You seem to be quite the fan of black roses lately. Who're they for this time?"

Jaemin's eyes looked panicked as he looked at you then back to the roses. "For me, of course."

Taeil squinted at him before he hummed, motioning for you to hand him the scissors.

"Six please," Jaemin chirped.

Taeil nodded, explaining to you what he was doing as he snipped the stems diagonally with attentiveness. The three of you walked to the register and Jaemin knelt over the marble counter to watch Taeil wrap the plastic and tie it around the stems.

"This is my favorite part," he said smiling at you.

You let out a small "oh" and moved to the opposite of Taeil to put some distance between the two of you. You listened carefully as he explained how to work the register and watched as you sold Jaemin the roses.

"Wow, you picked that up quickly. Much faster than my past employees," Taeil said patting your shoulder.

You blushed at his compliment, thanking him. You wondered how he'd react if you told him you secretly got a head start while he was gone.

Taeil's phone began to ring and he rolled his eyes, stepping a few feet back to answer the call.

"What?" he hissed through his teeth, waving Jaemin goodbye.

Jaemin waved back, exposing a smile that was so perfect, you began to doubt if he was human. Surely no one could be that pretty. He was definitely a robot.

"I never got your name?"

You pointed to your name tag. "Y/n."

Jaemin's eyes followed your fingers. "Miss Y/N, how would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight? We can go to my favorite restaurant down the street."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"I thought you had plans though?" you said folding your arms across your chest. "Don't you have a gift to deliver to a certain someone?"

Jaemin merely smiled at you, his eyes holding a playful glint. "Not if you don't want me to, I don't."

"Have a great day, sir," you said, pushing past him to tend to the Peonies. "I hope she enjoys the roses!"

"I hope so too," he said gathering his wallet and the bouquet. "See ya, Taeil."

Taeil glowered at him as he pressed glowing red 'end call' button. Jaemin exited the store with a skip in his walk and Taeil gave you a knowing look.

"That boy sure is something."

"He sure is," you agreed.

The sloshing sounds of water filled the room as you tipped the watering can. "What on Earth does he do with all those flowers?"

"He buys them for all his flings," Taeil said, patting down the soil of a few plants.

Your lips curved downwards. It was guys like him that you made you want to stay single forever.

The door chimed again as another customer walked in.

"Welcome!" Taeil cheerfully exclaimed, greeting the customer.

--

The next time you saw Jaemin it was a week later and you were in the middle of planting more roses. (Apparently, there was always a shortage of those. Go figure...) The moment Jaemin came in, he set is path straight for you and you inwardly groaned.

"Hey, y/n. Wonderful day today, isn't it?" he said, shoving his hands in the front of his baggy hoody.

"Not really. My allergies are kicking my butt," you said, sniffing.

"Doesn't help much to be working in here, huh?" he asked.

"I guess not but I need the money. Speaking of money, how can I help you today?" The transition wasn't as smooth as you hoped but you wanted to get him out of the store as soon as possible.

The longer you were around him the more you could feel yourself slowly getting sucked into his escapade.  When he wasn't being a flirty douche bag, he wasn't all that awful from what you could tell but the problem was that he was almost always being a flirty douche bag. A jerk who uses the same cheap tactics to get any girl dumb enough to bend over backwards for him at the snap of his fingers.

"Maybe you can help me," Jaemin mused. "What's your favorite flower?"

"Going on another date, huh? I'm guessing she liked the black roses."

"Maybe," Jaemin smirked.

You paused, taking off your gloves. "Well, if I had to choose just one, I'd probably pick Middlemist's Reds. Although they're very rare so they're pretty hard to get a hold of."

"Never heard of them," Jaemin said, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course you haven't."

Jaemin froze, opening his mouth to say something but must've changed his mind. "Well, anyhow, I'll just take some roses." Jaemin pointed his thumb in the direction behind him. "The pink ones."

You sold Jaemin the roses and he left waving a hand at you with that perfect smile plastered on his face. Maybe he was an alien.

You let out a sigh of relief just as Taeil waltzed out of his office with the brightest smile you've seen since you've met him.

"What's going on?" You asked, his smile contagious as a small one spread across your own lips.

"You know the ramen place across the street?"

You nodded. You ate there once before when you first moved into your apartment but hadn't been back since.

"I've finally eaten there enough times to get five free meals!"

"Oh, wow, five free meals," you teased.

"Laugh all you want, y/n, but you didn't win a free meal, did you?"

You rolled your eyes playfully. "No, I did not."

"Exactly," he said, looking smug. "Let's walk over there after your shift for lunch. My treat."

"That's really nice of you, Taeil, but I promised my roommate I'd have lunch with him."

"Perfect! He can come along too."

"Really? I don't want you to waste your coupons," you replied, sitting on the small stool.

"Yeah, we can just get the king size bowl as one meal. It takes three people to finish those anyway," Taeil said waving a hand passively.

"Okay then! I'll text him right now," you grinned, pulling your phone out of your back pocket.

--

When you and Taeil arrived, Xiaojun was already sitting in a booth with an oversized menu up to his nose.

"Oh, no, Jun, when'd you get here?" you asked plopping down on the plush cushions.

"About a minute ago. I just wanted it to look like I'd been waiting a long time," he said placing the menu flat on the table.

You made a face, scooting down to give Taeil enough room to sit.

"You must be Taeil," he said, reaching out for his hand and shaking it.

"Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about your laundry issues," he teased.

Xiaojun laughed, kicking your shin under the table. You hissed, snatching the menu from him.

A silence fell over the three of you as you each examined the menu. The waiter came by with a pen and a notepad, jotting down your desired drinks and sauntered off to the kitchen. After your drinks arrived you all decided to just order spicy beef flavored ramen.

"Ah," Xiaojun hummed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Free food is the best food."

"This is true," Taeil said pointing his chopsticks at him.

"How many times did you have to eat here to get the coupon anyways?" you asked, taking a sip from your drink.

"Forty-two."

Xiaojun's hand flew to his mouth as a shocked laugh came out.

"Unbelievable," you gasped.

"What? I like a challenge."

You and Xiaojun exchanged looks before bursting into laughter.

"Isn't that a little extreme?" Xiaojun laughed.

Taeil grinned. "Maybe. They probably thought no one would bother to do it but I never give up the opportunity to eat free food."

"Good to know," you chortled as your food arrived.

Another silence fell over you as you ate and you were the first one to speak.

"So, what's Jaemin's deal?"

"Who's that?" Xiaojun asked.

Taeil shook his head. "A customer of mine who buys flowers twice a week for girls."

"So he's a player?"

Taeil nodded grimly, his cheeks bulging with a mouthful of noodles. "He started coming around when school started up and hasn't stopped coming since."

"What a tool," you scowled.

"Don't get me wrong, he's not all that bad. Pretty sweet kid, if you ask me but I would never introduce him to my daughter."

"You have a daughter?" you and Xiaojun asked in unison.

Taeil looked at the two of you in confusion. "Of course not, it's just an expression."

"No, it's not..." you said fighting back a smile.

"Really? I could've sworn it was," Taeil said, a hand lifting to stroke his chin. "The point is, he'd almost be half-decent if he at least bought different gifts for them. It's always roses."

You began to get ticked off the more you discussed the boy. Jaemin was playing with other girls hearts like it was a game and you couldn't stand it. You knew the pain of falling for a guy who didn't actually like you back all too well. Too many times to count, you were confined to the walls of your room, crying your high school days away after some immature kid broke your heart.

"I don't understand how he gets away with it. I mean, just how many girls has he done that to?"

Taeil paused to think. "Dear god...who knows? And the worst part is, it's not even a sex thing with him. He makes them fall in love with him then dumps them for the next girl waiting for their heart to be broken."

"Sounds like a grade A ass hole," Xiaojun scowled at his bowl. "How does he live with himself knowing how many girls he's broken—probably torn them to shreds single-handedly. That kind of heartache lingers for months."

You and Taeil agreed solemnly before changing the subject to lighter topics. You and Xiaojun ended up playing a game of "who can drink their water through a straw the fastest" and of course you won, as you did every time. It wasn't that you were particularly good at it, it was that Xiaojun lost every game he played. Taeil, amused by your game, challenged you and beat you by a landslide. Xiaojun was happy about this, slapping his knee in an over-the-top fake laugh.

"Ha! You lost, you loser!" he said, high-fiving Taeil.

You just shook your head, chewing on a piece of ice.

"Look at her. She's such a sore loser," Xiaojun whispered loud enough for you to hear.

Taeil snickered and you rolled your eyes.

"Do you wanna go again then? Because I remember winning against you so who's really the loser here?"

Xiaojun clutched onto Taeil. "Help, she's attacking me."

You gawked at him as the two of them began to snicker again.

The rest of your meal was filled with laughter and jokes thrown at Jaemin here and there. You and  Xiaojun thanked Taeil for the meal and he invited Xiaojun out to a bar he goes to every Saturday with his friend, Lucas—some kind of guys night they have or something like that. Taeil was becoming more of a friend to you than he was your boss and you were grateful to be working for someone so friendly and caring. You also were glad your best friend and your manager got along so well because Xiaojun needed to get of the house more than he did.

You bid each other your farewells and headed home, Taeil returning to the shop to open it back up, as he closed it temporarily to go eat with you. You and Xiaojun played a few board games in the dining area before you each retired to your rooms to wash up. You dozed off as soon as your face met your pillow, tired from waking up so early from your morning classes, the world around you fading to blackness. --

The radio softly played an indie song of some no-name band as you typed up your thesis. Summer was coming soon and that meant the end of the semester was approaching. That also meant finals were near, so you started to bring your laptop to work to finish everything. You even had Taeil proofread your work and give you feedback just to have another set of eyes look over it after you did a jillion times.

You were in the midst of wrapping up the conclusion when the telltale jingle of the door sounded.

"Welco—oh it's just you."

You looked up from your laptop to see Jaemin (surprise, surprise) approaching you with a sideways grin and an unhappy Taeil.

"Good afternoon, Miss y/n," he said, propping his elbows on the counter.

"Wow, it's only been three days and your back already?"

"Unfortunately," Taeil muttered underneath his breath.

Jaemin threw daggers at Taeil with his eyes. "I just," he said, looking back at you. "really, really like flowers."

You rolled your eyes, beginning to type again. "Okay."

Jaemin frowned. "What's that look for?"

"Hmm? What look?"

"Your eyes. You rolled them at me," he said.

You looked briefly at him before your eyes flickered back to the screen. "Did I?"

"Yes, you did. And what are you typing anyway?" he said hauling his body over the countertop to peek at the screen.

You slapped the laptop shut, placing your hands on your hips. "Did you come here to buy something or just to annoy me?"

"Jeez, 'you in a mood or something?" he said standing up properly.

"I have an essay due tomorrow and you're preventing me from finishing it."

"Essay?" he said giggling. "How long ago was it assigned? Sounds like you waited last minute to start if it's due tomorrow."

"That's none of your business," you glowered.

"I'm a customer, you know. You shouldn't talk to me that way," Jaemin said.

"I'm the one who gave her the permission to," Taeil said, wiping the dirt off of his hands on his apron.

"Taeil," you whined. "C'mon, why aren't you wearing your gloves? Your apron looks disgusting."

"I tried but it doesn't feel right with them on," he lifted his shoulders then dropped them.

You sighed, reopening your laptop.

"So, what the topic on?" Jaemin said, his chin in the palm of his hand.

You exhaled out of your nostrils when you realized he was still standing there. He was starting to really bug you now.

"Me. I have to write about the obstacles I've faced and how I accomplished my goals despite them."

Jaemin pursed his lips. "Huh."

You raised an eyebrow but didn't look up from the screen.

"Do you go to the community college on 3rd Street by chance?"

This caught your attention. "Yeah...how'd you know?"

My dorm mate has the same assignment." He said, his eyes narrowing at you. "He finished it like a month ago."

"Y/n!!" Taeil scolded, shaking his head.

Jaemin let out a boisterous laugh, bending over, a hand clutching his stomach. Taeil began to join in as you stood there with your mouth open.

"I-I had stuff to do—"

"HA! Like what?" Jaemin said slapping the counter.

"Okay fine, I waited until the last minute, okay?" You said, the corners of your lips turning downwards.

"Aw, don't get upset, I'm sorry," he chuckled.

You furrowed your eyebrows. "You're still laughing."

"Sorry, sorry!" he said, straightening his face. You could still hear Taeil snickering faintly.

"Wait a sec, are you saying we go to the same school?"

"Oh, god no. I just live there."

Your jaw dropped. "You what?"

"I know how it sounds but I wanted to move out of my parents' place and I'm not ready for another four years of school yet," he waved his hands around. "so I live on campus with my friend."

"Does the school know?" You said, your eyes nearly popping out of your head.

"Nope."

You gaped at him, Jaemin obviously loving your reaction as he smirked. He explained how he got into the situation, him being well known at college parties before he even graduated high school which led to him being a party promoter. He posted the location and time on his Instagram;  people showed up and he got paid. When you told him you didn't like parties, he insisted you go to one that night with him and you declined immediately.

After a lot of begging, he finally dropped it but looked disappointed afterwards. You noticed how long you were talking and urged Jaemin to buy his usual roses and leave.

It was the next day that you realized it was a mistake to indulge in his shenanigans because there he was, waltzing into the store for more roses—although he seemed to be more interested in you than the flowers. Then he came the next day, and the day after that for three weeks straight, suddenly in need of more and more roses.

"What girl has you so whipped that you have to buy her roses every day?" You asked when Jaemin came in the third day that week.

"They're actually for my mom this time," Jaemin said, cheesing at you. "It's her birthday today."

You weren't sure if you believed him or not but told him to send her your birthday wishes regardless.

Whether you liked it or not, you were beginning to get used to his presence. He finally stopped trying to get you to date him all the time and treated you like an actual person. Taeil was the most surprised at his sudden change of behavior towards you, making overly dramatic shocked faces whenever Jaemin turned his back.

He asked you things no one ever cared to ask you before like questions about your family and your childhood out of genuine curiosity and the more you got to know him, the more your feelings towards him started to change. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Eventually, Jaemin stopped buying roses altogether, only stopping by to chat with you and Taeil for a while then leave to go off someplace else. You were curious as to why he stopped buying flowers but didn't say anything, not wanting to pry. Maybe he finally decided to be in a serious relationship for once. Maybe he met the one girl who's heart he didn't want to break. Could he possibly be in love? You highly doubted that but it would explain his change in behavior. You decided not to give much thought to it considering he wasn't someone you wanted to waste time thinking about but he kept sneaking into your mind when you were least expecting him to. Like when you first woke up in the morning or when you were eating dinner, wondering if he was eating at the moment too.

--

Summer finally came and you managed to pass all your finals with flying colors thanks to the help Taeil and Xiaojun. With the semester finally over and done with, you felt as if the world was lifted off of your shoulders like you were finally able to breathe.

Although you weren't too happy about the weather. You had your hair tied in a sloppy ponytail to keep your hair from sticking to the back of your sweaty neck and of course, there was no air conditioning because you worked in a greenhouse. Taeil plugged up an old fan behind the counter for you but it hardly made a difference, nonetheless, that's where you stayed the majority of the day unless you absolutely had to move.

It was nearing the time Jaemin usually visited and you were beginning to wonder where he was. As if he knew you were thinking about him, your phone lit up with his name flashing across the screen.

Jaemin :3 [2:40] : @ starbucks Jaemin :3 [2:41] : want something?

You smiled at your phone, trying to remember all the cold drinks on the menu. You weren't really a coffee drinker so you normally only ever ordered hot chocolate but it was definitely too hot outside for that.

You [2:42]: any cold drink will do

You clicked your phone off, standing to stretch your legs. A blonde lady wearing an ugly pug t-shirt approached you, asking for a bouquet to pick up tomorrow. You wrote down all her information and got to work. You hardly ever arranged bouquets unless they were for the display outside, so you worked cautiously, mulling over where each flower would look best. Taeil would come back from his break soon and you wanted to show him how well you did.

A few minutes later, Jaemin arrived with your drink and a few cheese danishes. He was wearing a thin white button up with sleeves rolled up and a few buttons were undone, exposing his chest a little with a pair of ripped jeans. He looked good—not that you cared or anything.

"Hey," he said, his nose scrunching as he smiled.

"Hello there," you said, removing your gloves. Your eyes zeroed in on the drinks he was carrying. One was pitch black, the one next to it vibrant purple, and the last two were white with whipped cream.

"This one's yours," he said handing you the purple one.

"What is it?" you asked, examining it.

"Try it," Jaemin replied, sticking a straw in the black drink.

You sucked from the straw, bracing yourself for the strong coffee flavor to come but it never did. Instead, your taste buds were met with a deliciously sweet fruity flavor. You looked at the drink again to see chunks of a mysterious purple fruit sloshing around inside it.

"Do you like it?" Jaemin asked as he'd been watching your reaction the whole time.

"Yeah, actually.  I'm surprised. What's the purple stuff?"

"It's dragonfruit. I know you don't care much for coffee and I didn't want to buy you something you wouldn't like so I got you a Mango Dragonfruit Refresher."

Your hands felt jittery all of sudden. You don't remember mentioning coffee to Jaemin and although he seemed to not only remember it but pick something out that he thought you liked. You looked down at your shoes to hide the pink tint in your cheeks.

"What'd you get then?" you asked.

"Americano. And the other two are for Taeil. He has a thing for Frappuccinos." he said, his mouth stuffed with his cheese danish.

"I'll never understand what the difference is between those drinks. Americano, Espresso, Frappuccino. They all sound the same to me," you said, shifting on your feet.

"Wanna try it then?" Jaemin reached his arm out, offering the beverage to you.

Your face flushed, knowing that you were about to use the same straw Jaemin did but pushed yourself forward to wrap your hands around the larger one holding the cup, taking a large gulp of it.

You swallowed the liquid with a shiver down your spine, gagging a little. "Jaemin, what the hell?? That tasted like ass!" you yelled, coughing.

Jaemin threw his head back in laughter, falling to the ground during your coughing fit.

"Who drinks black coffee?? Shouldn't you be a middle-aged YA writer or a college professor or something?" you shouted.

Jaemin laughed harder at this, holding on to your legs for support. You kicked him off of you, angrily shoving a danish in your mouth to rid your tongue of the nasty flavor.

"Unbelievable," you grumbled.

"I thought you knew!" he teetered.

"How?! How could I have known?" you perplexed, pieces of the danish flying out of your mouth.

He chuckled, getting to his feet. "Doesn't everyone know what black coffee looks like?"

"I guess not me," you pouted.

Jaemin made a sour face before his expression changed as a thought passed through his mind.

"Hang on, I forgot something in the car," he said, jogging out of the store.

You blinked, watching him run down the sidewalk until he was out of view. You put the cold drink to your forehead as Jaemin walked back inside a little out of breath with his hands behind his back.

"Sorry about that. Anyways, how's your day going so far?" he asked, his teeth showing from the big smile plastered on his face.

"It's a thousand degrees in here so it's been hell," you said eyeing him suspiciously. "Why are you smiling at me like that; you're scaring me."

Jaemin's grin dropped before it reappeared. "I don't know what you mean. I always smile like this," he said biting his lip in attempt to stop smiling. "Anywho, you got any big plans tonight?"

"Ha! I don't go out—you know that," you said, shoving his shoulder playfully. "The only plans I have is with Netflix and my bed."

Jaemin 'ah'ed, nodding in understanding before his sneaky smile returned. "I don't want to ruin your plans with Netflix but," Jaemin pulled a small bouquet of red poppies from behind his back. "I've got two tickets to a basketball game at seven and I'd be really happy if you came with me. What do 'ya say?"

"Absolutely not!" you declined, taken aback.

Jaemin lowered the flowers, crestfallen. "What? Why not?"

"Wh-why not??" you sputtered. "You really are as bad as everyone says! What?—was this your plan the whole time? To get close to me? To butter me up so I can fall in love with you so you can dump me like everyone else?"

Jaemin's eyebrows scrunched together. "No, no, God, no—that's not it at all. Why would you think that?"

You shook your head in disbelief. "I know everything, Jaemin. The games you play with girls. Getting them to fall for you just to break their hearts."

Jaemin's lips parted in realization. "No, it's not like that. You don't understand—"

"Save it Jaemin," you interrupted. "Taeil said you'd be like this but I didn't listen. I stood up for you! And now I know I was wrong..."

"Y/n, please...I thought...I thought you liked me."

Tears welled up in your eyes because you did. You did like him—no matter how hard you tried not to. No matter how much you tried to push him out of your head he ended up moving into your heart instead. You enjoyed his daily visits and you secretly liked it when he'd stay to watch you work, even if you didn't talk. You fell in love with his smile and the sound of his laughter over the months and when you realized it, it was too late.

"God, this is so fucked up," you whispered to yourself. "It's not that I don't like you, Jaemin—that's not the problem here. It's the fact that you knew I liked you but decided to ask me out the same way you asked out all those other girls! Well, sorry to break it to you, but I'm not like those girls. You can't woo me with the same tricks you've used on every other tramp in this shithole!"

Jaemin reached out to you and you jerked your body away from him.

"Please, if you'd let me explain—"

"I don't wanna hear whatever lame excuses you have, Jaemin! I thought you were different. I thought you changed," you said turning away from him. "Just...leave, Jaemin."

Jaemin stood there numbly for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what you just said. "Y/n.." he started, unsure of what to say.

"Please," you begged, your voice sounding strangled.

"I know you're not like those other girls, y/n and that's why I like you, okay? This isn't just a game to me—I'm serious about this—about you! You have to believe me."

You said nothing, as you kept your back turned, a silent tear escaping your eyes.

"Fine," Jaemin said, dropping the flowers to the ground as he stormed out of the store. You flinched when the door slammed behind him.

Your shaky hands gripped onto the counter as you broke down into tears, letting out a painful sob. Taeil ran out from his office when he heard your cry, rushing to console you.

--

It had been two weeks since the fight and you hadn't heard from Jaemin. No text, no call, nothing. It was hard to believe your friendship would end just like that. It was ridiculous, even, that he's ignored you for so long—as if friends didn't fight. But you couldn't be too mad at it him about it, considering you hadn't attempted to make the first move either. A part of you wished everything could go back to the way it was—back when Jaemin would come to the store and tell you lame jokes or poke fun at your expense but there was another part of you that wished you never met him at all because either way—whether he liked you or someone else—it would've ended the same, with your heart aching.

Although you weren't quite sure what it was your heart was aching for. You liked him a lot but you didn't necessarily want to date him. You were never to keen on the idea of being in a relationship—especially with someone like him and that was selfish and you knew it. You hated that you felt that way but you did. You wanted to trust him but how could you? With his reputation, would you ever be able to?

You were sitting at the ramen restaurant across the street with Lucas, Xiaojun, and Taeil, watching the noodles slide off your chopsticks as you picked it back up again. They were all indulged in an argument about something small and insignificant and you began to question why you even let Taeil drag you here. You could tell he felt bad about what happened between you and Jaemin but it's not like your entire world came crashing down. You only knew him for a few months; how attached could you have become? Yeah, that's right, you weren't attached. Only a careless idiot would become attached so quickly.

"He's the one who got attached!" you blurted out.

Everyone's eyes snapped towards you.

Xiaojun scrunched his nose. "Huh?"

"I know why you guys invited me out—and I really appreciate it—but I'm okay. Jaemin is the one you should be trying to cheer up," you explained.

Lucas leaned forward, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why would we do that? We hate him."

"I didn't mean literally....I'm just saying," you shrugged.

"And what is it exactly that you're saying?" Taeil asked, a small smile curving on his lips.

"I mean, he's the one who can't handle rejection. He basically threw a tantrum when I said no."

"He threw a tantrum?" Lucas questioned, looking between the three of you. "No one told me that part."

"Okay, I may have exaggerated a bit but my point still stands. He needs to get over that big ego of his. He needs to realize he can't have every girl he wants because frankly, he's not all that cute either," you finished, dusting the invisible dirt off of your tank.

Xiaojun and Taeil exchanged looks leaving you and Lucas confused.

"What? What is it?" you frowned.

"Well.." Taeil trailed off.

"Are you sure," Xiaojun started, "he can't get any girl he wants?"

"I'm positive," you said holding a hand up.

"You sure about being sure?" Taeil giggled.

"You seem pretty smitten to me," Xiaojun said, slurping the noodles from his bowl.

You face flushed red as you stuttered to defend yourself. "W-What?"

Lucas seemed to have finally connected the dots as he laughed wholeheartedly, clapping his hands. "Ohhh, you like him but you're pretending you don't!"

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. "That's ridiculous! Of course not—"

"AHAHAHA!!" Lucas chuckled as he stood, chair scraping loudly against the floor.

Taeil and Xiaojun laughed at Lucas as you ducked your head in embarrassment. People looked over at your table in search of the loud commotion and you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

"Yukhei, sit down!" Taeil laughed, fanning his hand at the chair.

"Yes! I love it! I love this!!" he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air as he sat back down. "And you," he said pointing at you, "love Jaemin."

You patted your cheeks with your hands to calm the warmth underneath them as you began to question yourself. Who were you kidding? If you couldn't fool them then how could you fool yourself? You were in love with Jaemin.

--

The heaters Taeil brought in from the back room hummed blending into the radio. Your gloves gave your fingers a shield from the biting cold and you were grateful your job required you to wear them. You were arranging a bouquet of red poppies with Taeil for a wedding. The bride wanted 21 bouquets—1 for each table—which left you and Taeil very busy. Although you couldn't help but think about a certain someone while looking at them.

Four months. Four months had passed and you still thought of Jaemin every time you look at flowers and considering the store you worked at, that meant nearly every day. Roses especially were hard to look at and unfortunately for you, they were the most popular flower sold. To you though, they were overrated—lost its meaning of romance a long time ago.

Taeil finished his bouquet, wrapping it in plastic and a rubber band and you did the same.

Taeil glanced up at you. "You're quiet today. Are you alright? It's not too cold in here is it?"

"The temperature's fine. I'm just thinking, that's all."

He hummed setting the bouquet aside and hopping on the counter. "Listen, I have to leave early today so I need you to close the store by yourself tonight."

"By myself?" you repeated, wide-eyed. You never opened or closed the store on your own before.

"By yourself," Taeil said, chuckling.

"Is it that guy you're always angry with on the phone?" you asked, approaching him.

"You mean Lucas? No, I've got more important things to take care of."

"Lucas is the one who blows up your phone all the time??" you guffawed.

"Yep. He thinks he needs my advice on everything so he calls a billion times a day."

"Aw, that's sweet," you cooed.

"Isn't it?" he retorted, sarcastically. "Let me show you how to close the register and I'll be on my way. As for everything else, you've done it a million times—you know the drill."

You nodded walking to the register and Taeil explained what to do, pulling out a wrinkled paper of instructions. It was a little complicated but you could manage. Taeil left shortly afterward and you pulled out your textbook, deciding to study for your midterms before rush hour came.

Before you knew it was almost time to close. The evening sky made the lighting inside the store dim and the temperature dropped twenty degrees causing you to go fetch your coat. It was strange being there alone at night. You always had Taeil cracking jokes to keep you from dying of boredom but tonight your only company was yourself.

You locked the door, flipping the 'open' sign around. You sighed, ready to go home and lie down already. You opened the register, counting the money, then following the instructions on the paper. You patted yourself on the back when you finished it without error and was heading to the back to turn off the lights when the bell chimed at the door.

"We're closed!" you yelled, rushing back to the front. You could've sworn you locked the door.

"Sorry, we're clo—" you started but didn't finish when you saw who it was.

Jaemin swallowed, waving Taeil's keys with his right hand. "Hey. It's been a while."

You turned your back, grabbing your purse. "We're closed."

Jaemin stepped closer to you, only for you to brush past him, busying yourself by closing the blinds. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

You said nothing as you walked to the next window, twisting the handle.

"Okay.." he said more to himself than you. "I understand why you wouldn't want to talk to me. I wouldn't want to talk to me either. It's been four months and I know I should've apologized sooner than this but..." he trailed off.

"Anyways, I just wanted to apologize and I hope it's not too late."

You stalked past him, picking up your book bag and throwing it over your shoulder.

"I'm about to turn the lights off so you might wanna get going," you said.

"Wait!" Jaemin exclaimed grabbing your shoulder. Sparks jolted under your skin where his hand touched you, causing you to jump.

"Uh, wait. Please?" He begged, retracting his hand. You turned around, folding your arms across your chest in an attempt to hide your trembling hands.

"I-I got these for you," Jaemin said holding out three middlemist's reds.

You gasped, slowly reaching out to take the flowers.

"I know getting you flowers was the problem in the first place but...I know how much you like these with your weird obsession with plants and all," he chuckled.

You frowned at him, pausing to smell the scent of the flowers. Middlemist's Reds were your favorite but you never seen them in real life, let alone held them in your hands.

"It's a good weird. I like it," he added, his words rushed. Jaemin stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

You smelled the flowers once more entranced by its sweet fragrance. "How did you get these? They only grow in two known places on Earth—and that's thousands of miles from here..."

Jaemin smiled. "Taeil has a cousin who lives about six-hundred miles out who grows exotic plants. Apparently, the soil out there is perfect for Middlemist's Reds.

Your frown deepened. "Taeil?"

Why would Taeil, the main person against your friendship in the first place, help Jaemin?

"Yeah," he said nervously laughing. "Anyway, I drove out and got them for you. Sorry, there's only three but who knew Middlemist's Reds were so expensive?"

You knew but you didn't say anything as you continued to examine the flowers. He drove six-hundred miles to buy your favorite flowers? He must've been driving for days. No one had ever done anything like that for you before, not even your parents would go out of their way to do that. Your heart pounded in your chest as you chewed your lip.

"Again, I apologize for that day. I royally fucked up and I know this doesn't make up for everything but this is just the beginning. I swear to you, y/n, you're the most amazing girl I've ever met. Everything you said about me was right. I played with girls' feelings just for the hell of it. I didn't care about anything or anyone but that all changed when I met you."

How cliche was that? Yet, you blinked, tears welling up in your eyes. There was no way this was actually happening. You'd seen this before. Heard those words coming from his lips in your dreams—it had to be a hallucination.

Jaemin took your cold hand, pressing his lips to the skin of your knuckles.

"Ever since I walked out the door that day, I've been miserable. I tried to forget you and I tried to stay away because I know I'm not deserving of you. I don't deserve to be your friend, your boyfriend—I don't even deserve to be in this room with you right now, asking for your forgiveness but I'm too selfish to keep myself away from you...I swear that guy you saw the first time we met is long gone. I can do a real relationship—at least I want to try...with you," he finished, his hand shaking as it held tightly onto yours.

"Okay," you whispered, closing your eyes.

"Okay?" he repeated, the biggest smile stretching across his face. "I'm forgiven?"

If you were smart you would say no and run as far away as you could. You should've kicked him out the moment he came in. Who gave him the right to come waltzing in as if the past four months didn't exist? It shouldn't have been so easy to wear you down but it was. Just seeing his face again made your heart jump and you had to suppress the urge to pull into a hug and beg him to never go away so long again. If Taeil saw something in him worth redeeming then it wouldn't hurt to try.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded your head. "Yes, now stop asking before I change my mind!"

Jaemin's eyes looked glossy as he threw himself into your arms, picking you up and spinning you around. You squealed in surprise, giggling.

"I missed you," you admitted, clutching tightly onto his jean jacket.

Jaemin pulled away, holding a warm hand to your cheek. "I'm sorry I was gone so long. Those four months was hell."

"It's okay...you came back right?" you said, leaning to his touch.

Jaemin shook his head. "I don't deserve you."

"Jaemin, I think...I think I love you," you stuttered.

Jaemin let out a shaky breath before he smashed his lips onto yours, almost knocking you over. His hands wrapped around your waist, balancing you, as you kissed him back. The hairs on your arms raised as the skin under his hands began to tingle again, your heart thundering in your chest.

Jaemin pulled away, his ears red.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking at the ground. "I just—I think I love you too."

You placed your hands on his neck, pulling him down to meet you halfway, your lips touching his. He tasted like bliss and coffee. When you pulled away you were both breathless and rosy-cheeked.

Jaemin grinned. "Can we finally go on that date now? I told you this was just the beginning."

You pecked his lips, a smile spreading feverishly. "What did you have planned this time?"

Jaemin mimed zipping his lips shut as he gestured towards the door. You turned out the lights and excitedly hopped into his car, cheesing ridiculously hard at each other, heading downtown to begin the start of the time of your life.

[snowqueen-68]

So much prologue...

and really sometimes To Prologue or not to Prologue IS the question. I’m pretty sure they aren’t as popular today as they used to be and I think for this book the prologue is not necessary. Much of what is here could be worked into later parts of the story. I keep it here to honor the young 20 something writer who loved prologues and was going through a BIG James Michener phase when she wrote the first part of this novel. Which means she definitely thought - the longer the better! I’ve also included a bit of chapter one - just for something new!

Alastair’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Yes, Master that will do,” he replied, one gray eyebrow peaking towards his hairline, “I think the fourposter was a very nice touch. Thank you.” The older man laughed, gazing back at their work and nodding, clearly pleased. “I agree and not bad for a pair of first-time cottage builders.” Alastair cast a critical eye over the cottage. “No, not bad at all, but I do think it’s too big for one unconscious man, Master,” he said, keeping his tone matter of fact, “I must assume then that the extra room is for me and that I am to stay here.” He knew the answer, really, so Alastair felt no surprise when his Master answered in the affirmative. “We cannot leave Sebastian here alone, Alastair. Obviously. He needs someone to watch over him and to help him once I have returned Lily to this plane. They still have a destiny to fulfill you know and they will need your guidance.” Alastair gave him a helpless look. “What do I know of caring for someone so wounded in mind and body, Master? As he surely will be when he wakes and, even more to the point, I am hardly one to know how to encourage a young man in courtship. I am an Angel, not a Human.” The Master turned to face Alastair fully, his expression calm and reassuring. “Now is not the time for doubt Alastair,” he declared briskly, “We must step forward with certainty and confidence… Cautious certainty and confidence to be sure but with certainty and confidence nonetheless. And I am counting on you…” He tipped his head in the direction of the cottage, “And that young man is counting on you too.” Alastair sighed, rubbing at his forehead with one hand, “Of course Master, I will do whatever you ask.” “Thank you, Alastair,” the Master said simply, his expression grateful, “and as for understanding humans, you will have plenty of time for observation and study while you are here. I think it wise to keep Lily well hidden and away from Earth for a good few centuries, at least.” “Centuries?” This time both of Alastair’s eyebrows popped upwards. He didn’t even bother to hide the slight choke of horror that snuck into his tone. The Master chuckled, “It will not be all that bad, my friend, and you do like to study, do you not? Think of all that you could learn about humans as you wait for Lily to return.” Alastair winced, he couldn’t help himself, “Yes Master…but centuries…” The Master tugged on one of his ears looking uncomfortable. “Well yes, and I do hate to ask it of you Alastair but there is no one I trust more than you…” Alastair fixed his Master with a steady stare and the older man coughed slightly. “It’s true old friend and I really do believe that it would be safest to wait for that amount of time to pass before we allow Lily to return. It is not something that my brother will expect. Patience is not his strength, you know, and in his arrogance, he will assume that it is not ours either. He will be wrong, of course, and will become frustrated and annoyed,” The Master set his lips in a thin line, appearing grimly satisfied, “And I admit, Alastair that I have no issue with my brother being frustrated and annoyed because it makes him sloppy and lazy and that can only be good for us.” “Well I do agree with that,” Alastair said, “especially if it means we will win this part in the game.” “And win we must,” the Master said, “and we will if we play our cards correctly. This is not our darkest hour, Alastair, it is merely a pause in the action. One we must use wisely.” He paused and though his gaze told Alastair that he clearly had more to say the Angel realized that their time together was drawing to a close. “You must go,” he said stating the obvious out loud. The Master nodded. “I must. There is much that I must do before Lily is ready to be sent back but I will be keeping an eye on both you and Sebastian, that I promise and if you need me I will come.” Alastair gave a single nod. “Yes, sir.” It wasn’t anything he hadn’t endured before. “When must I begin to be on guard against your brother and those who work with him?” he asked then, slipping in his questions before the Master departed, “should I be ready to fight them, even as we wait out the centuries for Lily? And what about Sebastian, will he awaken before she returns?” “My brother himself is physically confined until such time as Lily has arrived again on this earthly plane. But that does not mean you should not take precautions now and keep Sebastian safe. As I said before, my brother’s arm is long, and though he knows it to be forbidden he has no trouble casting shades of himself out into the world to coerce the unwary and unprepared into his service. If you remain in this glade you will be safe, no one will find you here, not until after Lily’s birth. But to step beyond it is perhaps not a good idea, at least not at first.” The Master gave Alastair a sad smile as he confined his friend to solitude. Alastair did not protest. There was no point. “As for Sebastian,” the Master continued, “he will sleep until Lily’s 18th birthday and then it is up to you Alastair to prepare him for her arrival, and for his duty.” “It will be as you say, Master,” Alastair agreed, bowing his head slightly. The Master reached out and pulled Alastair into a swift and hard embrace. “Be at peace my friend,” he said, “We have faced the unknown before and triumphed. We will do so again.” Then the older man stepped away, whispered words that Alastair could not hear, shimmered and disappeared, leaving the Angel alone with his sleeping charge. Drawing in another deep and resigned breath, Alastair turned and trudged towards the cottage and its tower, squaring his shoulders and mentally preparing himself for the many long years ahead.

Chapter One Winter – 1986 The village of Schammelsdorf Near Bamberg, West Germany

The pristine field of snow in the empty meadow behind Lily’s home had turned an eggshell blue under the creeping shadows of late afternoon, and in the east clouds were gathering, carrying a promise of even more snow. The forest, thick with birch and pine, hugged the far side of the meadow and marched away both left and right as far as the eye could see, sweeping up steeply rolling hills to merge gradually, or so it seemed, with the ever-darkening sky.  The colors flowed seamlessly away from her as Lily stood at her kitchen window, tea kettle suspended from one hand. Blue, dark green, purple, a canvas of colors that made her wish she’d remembered to grab her camera from her classroom before leaving for the day. The snow, the woods, the sky; they would make a beautiful tapestry and she hadn’t touched her loom in months. It had cost a fortune to have it shipped overseas but she had refused to move without it. “Someday,” she sighed, turning from the window and moving to pour water from the steaming kettle into her waiting mug, “someday when I don’t have so many papers to grade and students to…” The sudden, shrill jangling of the phone in the hallway caught her mid pour, and she jerked so hard in surprise that a cascade of water splashed off the side of her cup, bathing her knuckles with boiling water. “Fu…Frogs and Coffee….,” she hissed dropping the kettle to the counter with a clatter, where it teetered precariously and then tumbled to the floor dragging the tea with it. Lily jumped back out of the way just in time to avoid getting the toes of her tennis shoes deluged with hot water. This time she actually swore, “Bloody Hell!” the words echoing through her flat as she sucked air in through her clenched teeth. The phone continued its sharp insistent screeching. Briefly, Lily considered ignoring the sound, but she had dinner plans and Miranda had said she’d be calling with where and when. She had to answer. “Great timing!” she muttered, stepping gingerly over both the spreading puddle on the floor and several shards of broken ceramic, some of which had tumbled through the kitchen door into the dining room. Jogging down the hall, she skidded to a halt in front of the phone stand just as the ghastly thing stopped ringing. Lily glared at it. “Of course!” she muttered in disgust shaking her injured hand, blowing on her knuckles and wincing at the sight of the angry redness. “God...shit…this hurts like hell!” she accused the avocado-colored phone. “I hope it doesn’t blister!” The phone answered her by ringing again, filling the hallway with its bone-jarring sound. To Lily’s disgust it made her start violently again and this time she grabbed at it immediately, not waiting for it to ring more than once. “Hello?” She sounded sharper than she meant to, the pain in her hand radiating up to her wrist, making her snap. What she really needed to do was run it under cold water. Not waiting for the person on the other end to identify themselves, she tucked the receiver under her chin, against her shoulder and grabbed the cradle with her good hand, dragging the whole thing to the bathroom with her. She turned the cold tap on full blast and stuck her offended knuckles beneath the flow. The pain subsided almost immediately, to her great relief, and as it retreated she became aware that someone at the other end of the phone was calling her name. “Hello, Lily?? Are you there …Lily?” It took a moment for her to recognize the voice. “Bryan?” she asked in surprise, “Is that you?” He started to reply but Lily cut him off, “Wait did you just call me?” Bryan paused, trying to catch up. “No,” he said, then he swore, “Frogs and Coffee…” Lily laughed, keeping her hand under the water, shivering at its winter chill. “That’s where I got that phrase! I just said that myself right when you called and scared me, and I burned my hand and-” “Lily, stop!” Bryan said, raising his voice so that she was brought up short and silenced. “Listen to me.” Lily raised one eyebrow even though there was no one to see her do it. “Wow, ok, well that’s nice. Wonderful to be talking to you again, too, amigo.” Bryan growled, and Lily smiled. She could almost see him scowling at her just like he used to do when they were in college and Lily hadn’t indulged his tendency to take himself so seriously. “Lily!” he barked at her now, silencing her before she could say anything else. “I am calling because they’ve found you. Emmett and Evelyn. I only just found out.” 

[that-writer-who-never-posts]

Petal

Tom Hiddleston x reader (I don't know how to describe this. Romance? Action? You'll have to find out.)

Hello! This is... I don't know what to say. Something like I've never done before. I didn't even plan it, it just came to my head while I was writting it! I hope you like it! ❤

It was requested by @scorpionchild81 (sorry if it's too crazy)

Prompt: Tom enters your house and finds you beaten to a pulp on the floor... Now he has to fight your problematic past to save you and your daughter.

Warnings: mentions of violence

Like 5.1k words. A journey...

---

"Tom! Tom!" Some other journalist called in the middle of all those flashes.

Tom was at an independent film festival in London. That's something that would usually excite him, but he would prefer to be with his family that night. He was still a great professional, so he posed at the entrance with a smile for the photos and answered all questions politely.

"Yes." He finally found the voice that called him. It was a tall woman, very skinny and pale, with red hair. Her black dress had a tiny letter "S" in silver on the left side of her chest, the same that was on her microphone. She was probably a little older than him.

"Good evening." She said, looking back to make sure the camera was ready for the interview. "I see that you're alone tonight."

"Yes." He smiled at her. "Unfortunately, my wife couldn't be here. But it's for a good reason, she's home with our daughter."

"How old is she?" The woman's face was serious, which made Tom a little uncomfortable. She looked like she wanted to be there less than him.

"She's one." He insisted on smiling anyway. "I didn't think it would be a good idea to bring her too."

"It's getting late, she should be sleeping." The woman said.

"That's true."

"Thank you for your time."

After that, she turned her back to him and disappeared in the middle of the crowd. It was a weird talk, but in all those years, Tom was used to jounalists who hated their jobs and were there to do the bare minimum. Another one took her place before he could think too much about it, anyway.

When the time for interviews was over, he entered the theater. There was going to be a small cerimony, in which the movies would be introduced. Tom decided he would watch that, chat to a few friends he knew would be there and leave as soon as possible.

Right after the cerimony was over, he was invited by one of the directors to go to the area where dinner would be served.

"It's a pleasure to see you here." The bald man offered Tom a glass of champagne.

"It's an honour to support this type of art." He replied, rejecting the drink with a hand gesture. "I'm sorry, but I'm driving."

"Wise choice." The director seemed impressed. "After all, you have a family to come home to."

"Definitely." Tom smiled at the thought of his girls.

"I don't think we've met before." The man interrupts his thoughts. "My name is Ernest Steng. I directed the movie 'Petal'."

"Nice to meet you." Tom replies. "Your movie seems quite intriguing."

"It's about a woman running away from her past." Ernest explains. "But for how long can someone do that?"

"I can't wait to see it." Tom says politely. "But I should go now."

"So early?" The older man furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes, I'm sorry." He felt a little bad, but not enough to change his mind. "As you said, I have a family to come home to."

Mr. Steng smiled and gave him a nod.

---

Tom smiled at the road as he drove home. It was one of his favorite feelings in the world: coming home to his wife and his daughter.

He parked in front of the house and sighed. He was finally there, but the lights were all off. Well, it was almost 1am, it wasn't hard to believe you would be already asleep. Getting out of the car and opening the front door, Tom hears something familiar... Your daughter is crying. But then, he realizes it didn't sound like a cry from when babies wake up and need something. She was crying hard, there was surely something wrong.

He ran to her bedroom and turned the lights on. Baby Elena was sitting on her crib, sobbing. So he rushed to pick her up and started rocking her gently.

"Shhhh..." He looked around and didn't see anything different, he didn't know what was happening. "It's okay, daddy is here."

When her screams stopped and they both calmed down, Tom began to think straight... Why didn't you come to see what was wrong with the baby? It was impossible that you didn't hear her crying like that. Whenever Elena moved on her sleep, your eyes opened immediatly.

So he went towards your bedroom with your daughter in his arms. Getting there, he found an empty bed, that looked exactly like it was when he left the house, so you didn't go to sleep yet. But where were you?

"Y/N?" He called, feeling his heart beating faster than ever.

Silence. Painful silence.

He started to run around the house, calling your name and looking for you. He was holding your baby so tight, afraid she would disappear too.

When he got to the kitchen, he saw a trail of blood that ended behind the island. His body froze when he followed it. You were laying on the floor unconsciously. All that blood came from cuts on your arms, they seemed to be made with a knife, and your face was bruised like you recieved several punches. There were also purple marks on your legs, and the right one looked broken.

Elena started to cry again, making him wake up and realize he needed to do something. And the first step was take your daughter away from that place, seeing you like that would traumatize her. So he took her to the living room, placing her on the sofa and giving her the first toy he found.

"I need you to be a good girl and stay right here, okay?" He said seriously. "Everything will be okay."

She was to young to understand what was going on, but she was too scared to do anything, so she hugged the doll her father handed her and sat quietly. As soon as she did that, Tom ran back to the kitchen and kneeled beside you.

"Y/N?" He screamed with tears in his eyes. You didn't reply, but he saw your chest moving weakly, so he was doing anything he could to keep you alive. He grabbed his phone and called an ambulance. "Stay with me, my love. Help is coming, you'll be okay, just... Keep breathing..."

---

"I need to see her." Tom said to the 7th nurse he saw walking towards your room. By the number of people coming and going from there, the situation seemed really complicated.

"I'm sorry." The nurse told him. "It's for her own good. Maybe you should take your daughter home."

Tom sighed and looked at your baby, who was finally asleep in his arms. True, it wasn't a good place for her to be. He considered taking her to his mother's house, but he was terrified. He didn't know what happened that night, there was no way he would want his daughter out of his sight for half a second.

"The police will be here soon." The nurse said when she saw Tom wasn't going anywhere. "They will hear the doctors first, then they will talk to you."

"Okay. Thank you." Tom sighed. He wanted to hear the doctors before the police. You were his wife. His everything...

The nurse gave him a comforting smile and continued what she was doing before he stopped her.

---

Two police officers spent what it felt like hours to Tom with one of the doctors in a private room. The nurses gave Tom a baby stroller to place sleepy Elena, and he took her with him when the doctor finally left and the officers called him.

He placed the stroller beside his chair and sat down in front of the table where the officers kept the papers to take notes. Looked like a movie, an horror movie for him.

"Good evening, Mr. Hiddleston." One of the policemen said. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"No, but I would love to know too." He replied desperately.

"You weren't home when the crime happened?" The other man asked. "Can you prove that?"

"Are you suggesting I tried to kill my wife?" Tom couldn't believe it.

"There are no signs that someone tried to break in. No objects were taken." The second officer continued. "Was there anyone else in the house?"

"Listen..." Tom tried to stay calm. "I went to the film festival... When I got home she was on the floor. Someone did this to her, but I don't know who or how."

The first policeman started to look online if there was a film festival in town. Luckly, Tom was the most famous person in there, so the first results were mostly pictures of him.

"Does your wife have any enemies?" He continued the questions. "Any recent problem?"

"No..." Tom tried hard to think of all you had been talking about lately. But you seemed happy with everything... Work, family, friends... Nothing wrong. "She's lovely, I can't think of a reason someone would have to hate her and... Specially to do something like this!"

"Alright." One of the officers sighed and looked at the other, then at Tom. It was going to be a difficult case. "Thank you for your cooperation. We will keep investigating, so we have to ask you to not leave the country for now."

---

The sun had already risen when a nurse looked for Tom, who was wide awake at the waiting room.

"Mr. Hiddleston?" She said, approaching him. "Your wife is awake. Would you like to see her?"

He entered the room, parked Elena's stroller in the corner, since she was still asleep, and sat beside you.

"Y/N..." He needed to hug you, but he knew it was better to not touch you. "Are you okay? Oh my god... I'm so sorry..."

"It isn't your fault." You could barely move because of all your bruises. "Where is Elena? Please, tell me they didn't hurt her!"

"No, she's perfect. She's sleeping right there." He pointed at the corner where he left her.

You sighed relieved.

"If I was home I could..." His eyes were filled with tears again.

"I'm happy you weren't." You cut him.

"But I..." He found your tone really weird.

"Listen." You almost whispered. "When the police asks... I'll tell them I don't remember anything. Because I was in shock or something."

"Why?" He was so confused he whispered too. "Are you afraid of finding out who did this in case they want revenge? Don't worry, if they go to jail then..."

"Tom." You took a deep breath. "I know who did this. You have to trust me, okay?"

"Trust you?"

"Excuse me?" The nurse opened the door. "If you're feeling strong enough, Mrs. Hiddleston, the officers would like to ask you a few questions."

"She's..." Tom started, but you looked at him with a face that stopped him immediatly. He should just go on and say you're out of your mind.

"It's better to end this at once, love." You smiled at him. "Trust me?"

---

In the end of the day, after a lot of exams, the doctors decided you could go home. Well, not home, because your house was closed for investigation, so you were staying at an hotel. You told Tom it was better than staying at someone's house, because you didn't want to bother anyone. But the truth was that you didn't want to put anyone else's life in danger.

Sitting in your hotel bed, watching your daughter playing on the floor... You wanted to cry. You loved the life you built, you were so happy you almost forgot it wasn't for you.

"Y/N." Tom called, sitting beside you. Your expression meant you were listening, but you didn't turn your head. "Will you tell me what happened now?"

"It was a warning." You told him. "They don't usually warn twice."

"Who are they?" Tom was desperate.

"If I tell you, you'll tell the police." You shrug. "I don't want to risk your life... Or our baby's. That's why I have to leave."

"Have you lost your mind?!" Tom stood up, and even Elena was scared by his tone. "Y/N, you better tell me what is happening right now. Or I'll take you back to that hospital."

"Shhhh..." You stood up too and looked for the remote.

Tom looked at the tv and saw that there was something about yesterday's festival on. You turned up the volume.

"Did... Did you see that man there?" Your stomach hurted at the sigh.

"...Eddie Redmayne?" He pointed at the actor who was being interviwed. "Yes, we went to school together, he was at our wedding."

"Not Eddie!" You rolled your eyes. "That man who just passed behind him, clearly avoiding the cameras..."

"The bald one? Yes, we had a long conversation, actually."

"What?" You started to walk around the room.

"He was a director. I don't remember his name... Steng?"

"He didn't even bother giving a fake name..." Your breathing got heavy and you thought you were going to pass out. "I have to go. Right now. I hope you didn't give him more information about this family."

"Where do you know him from?" Tom wondered if he was going crazy or just you.

"I worked for him." You sat down and tried to breath normally.

"As an... Actress?"

"Thomas. He is not a director."

He grabbed his phone and googled the movie title.

"Of course he is." He told you. "Look... Movie info... Director... Ramsay Mayers. Hold on."

He looked at you and you raised your eyebrows at him.

"They already went after you. I can't allow anything to happen to our daughter." You started to cry. "You have no idea what he's capable of..."

"I saw what happened to you." Tom pulled you into a careful hug. "But it is nothing compared to what it would feel like if I lost you."

"Look... Steng hires people. He looks for the ones who have nothing to lose, who are at the worst moments of their lives, and offer them a great deal." You explained. "Some of them are hired to kill his enemies. Some are hired for smaller crimes. When he found me, I had just arrived in London... I came to live with a man I met online and dated for a while. But then he took everything from me... I didn't even have a place to stay. So Steng offered me a house, money and revenge. All I had to do was seduce old millionaires. Don't look at me like that, I never let any of them touch me, I only helped Steng to steal from them. And he tried to convince me it was okay, because they were disgusting men, but still... I felt terrible. So I ran away. For years, I thought it wouldn't be a problem... I never told the cops about him. Then I met you and seemed like my life was finally perfect... Until last night. I don't know why it took him so long to come after me, but now he did. I know very well what happens to people who betray him."

Tom didn't know what to say. This couldn't be real life... It had to be a nightmare. Or a prank. But it didn't look like either.

"You see..." You gave him a sad smile. "The woman you got married to was a huge lie. I think it will be easier to let me go now that you know that."

"No." He said, still trying to understand all the information you gave him. "You're not a lie. You just... Have a past. I wish you told me about it before."

"You would never trust me if I did." You shrug. "It doesn't matter now... I guess I shouldn't have wasted your time. And the last thing I wanted to do was break your heart. At least I gave you our little princess. I'm sure you'll take great care of her... Better than I ever could."

"You're not leaving us." Tom gave you the saddest look you've ever seen on him. "I know it's dangerous, but maybe I could help you. You can't do this alone."

You sighed and allowed him to hold you. You didn't care how much your bruises hurt under his touch, you needed to feel his protection one last time.

---

On the next morning, Tom woke up to an empty bed. Could you blame him for not hearing you leave? He didn't sleep for almost 40 hours. Your bags disappeared with you. All that was left was a note:

"Dear Tom,

I know that 'Please, don't hate me' must be a little too much to ask right now. So all I'll ask is for you to understand me. I made a choice in the past and I'll have to face the consequences, but you don't have to. You're free, you never did anything bad for anyone, you are an angel and I never deserved you.

If you allow me to ask you two more things, I will always be thankful. The first one, you must know, is never tell anyone what I told you last night. Anyone. Your life would be in danger if someone found out you know about all that. The second is... Well, I know Elena will forget what I was like at some point. But never let her forget that I loved her more than anything.

Thank you for showing me what happiness feels like.

Y/N."

He shoved the letter inside his pocket and left the angry tears come. He didn't know what to do... As you said, calling the police would put his and his daughter's life at risk. But could he simply watch you walk to your own death and not do anything?

He grabbed his phone and saw there were three missed calls from an unknown number. It could be you... So he decided to call it.

"Tom?" A man's voice replied. The voice of the director he met last night. Steng. "It's nice to talk to you again. I assume you didn't call to thank me for the present I left at your house last night."

"What do you want from us?" He went straight to the point.

"Oh, talking about us..." The man laughed. "You won't believe who's here. Our 'Petal' from real life. A silly girl who thought she could run away from her past... If only this was a movie... Say hi to your husband, petal!"

"Tom... I'm sorry." Was all you could say. You were locked in a dark room since you went to that same old spot he would make deals at.

"Y/N... You're going to be okay, my love..." Tom was a little relieved to hear you were alive.

"I can't promise that." Steng interrupted him. "But maybe she has a chance. As long as you do exactly what I say."

"I'm listening."

"Good. Turns out Y/N was the best misguided soul that ever knocked on my door." He kept the sarcastic tone. "When she thought she had escaped... What a fool. I was watching. I saw her getting closer to a rich, influential man... Who even has friends in the royal family, am I mistaken? I'm usually not. So I waited to see how far that would go. And she married you! I see she learnt very well how to attract a millionaire. She owes me that."

"So is that what you want? Money?" Tom's patience ended so long ago. "Just tell me how much you want and leave her alone."

"Money?" Steng sounded offended. "After all these years, I doubt you have more money than me. It doesn't buy happiness, haven't you heard? I want you to work for me. That way, you can use that influence to help me get where I want."

"Deal." Tom sighed. "But if I'm going to work for you, it means you can let Y/N go. You won't need her anymore."

"I'll use her to keep you motivated." The bald man shrugged. "Do you have someone else in your life that could motivate you this much? Another girl?"

"You better not even think about my daughter..." Tom felt like destroying the hotel room.

"She's just a baby!" Steng gasped. "Do you think I'm a monster? I bet you don't want to find out."

---

Tom followed the directions and was now standing in front of the building. There was going to be a meeting, in which he would sign some papers. It was something really professional, considering it was still illegal. When the door opened, Tom saw a familiar face... He never forgets a face. It was that journalist who interviewed him minutes before the festival's ceremony. It all made sense now, the "S" on her clothes stood for Steng. Maybe she was there only to ask Tom if Y/N would be home...

"Welcome." The woman kept the serious expression she had the night before.

Tom entered the place without saying anything. It looked like a normal office, people were sitting in front of their computers working, and behing them there were many doors. He wondered what kind of disturbing secrets those doors could hide. Suddlesntly, one of them opened and Steng walked in his direction smiling.

"Right on time for your first day!"

"Where is she?" Tom rolled his eyes.

"Alright." Steng made a gesture for Tom to follow him til the door he just came from. "I'm a nice boss, always giving my employees little gifts."

They walked til the end of a corridor, stopping in front of another door.

"Don't take too long, we have work to do." He handed the fake journalist the key. "Vanessa will keep an eye on the two of you."

After saying that, he left them alone, and as soon as she unlocked the door, Tom ran inside. It looked exactly like a cell, and you were sitting on the bed, hugging your knees with red eyes.

"Y/N!" He said running to sit beside you in bed and pull you into a tight hug.

"Tom!" You touched him as you were trying to find out if he was real or not. "I'm so sorry I put you in this situation..."

"It's okay, my love." He kissed your forehead. "We'll find a way out..."

"There's no way out." You cried.

"Yet." You heard a woman's voice say after closing the door. It was Vanessa, the fake interviewer. She started to work for Steng years before you, and earned his trust with time, so now she was some kind of vice president on the company.

"Would you excuse us?" Tom said angrily.

"Wait." You held his hands and looked him in the eyes. "What do you mean?"

"A big part of the team... I'd say 85% of everyone who works here or around the country is planning to take control and end this." The woman approached you.

"How?" You asked.

"Y/N..." Tom interjected. "We can't trust her. She works for him."

"We all work for him." Vanessa corrected. "But none of us want to. He enjoys our most fragile moments to trap us into a kind of life with no way out... How far is he going? He has plans to get into the government..."

"You're helping him." Tom argued.

"I'm watching him." She explained. "Listen... Before I worked here, I had a family. I was the mother of a beautiful little girl named Olive. One day, there was a fire at her school. She was only 5 years old... Of course I couldn't live without her. My depression made me lose everything... My job, my husband, my house... So he came into my life like an angel. You know how the story goes, Y/N. A few years later, I discovered the fire was part of one of his plans. He killed my daughter. That's why I worked so hard to gain his trust... I had absolutely nothing, and would dedicate my life to ruin everything he stole from us."

Your heart broke. You knew you would do anything to protect your daughter, you had just left her for her own safety. Maybe Vanessa was trying to manipulate you, but what would she get from making people stand up against her boss if she liked him?

---

So the days started to pass. Tom still insisted Vanessa had to prove she would stand by your side when the rebellion began. But with time, you could hear talks inside the building and phone calls using codes that seemed innocent. Before you knew, it had started.

It started slow. People started to fail their missions... Making up excuses for it. Some of them were punished for that, but movements like that can't happen without sacrifices. They did that as a distraction, but it also caused Steng to make less and less money, making him lose power and forcing him to slow down his plans.

Soon enough, the biggest and most delicate part of the plan had began: The police got involved. A few officers started to look for Steng, pretending they were hopeless and ready to be his next victim. Being inside the whole thing, they could find out a safe way to end it. It wasn't as simple as arresting Steng, they had to find all the people who helped him, so they wouldn't hurt the victims or continue his job.

The big day was almost here. The police had already tracked all his contacts, even the ones in other countries, and was ready to shut everything down.

Until it happened.

Steng united every employee on a special meeting to introduce the new addition to the crew. That was odd, he always did everything he could to avoid that feeling of you all being a group. United groups can be dangerous when they aren't happy with the situation and want to change it...

"Good morning, everyone." Steng started his speech with that disgusting smile. "I will not take too much of your time, we all have a lot of work to do here. I just wanted to remind you of one small thing."

He made a gesture for the new member to join his side, Vanessa was right behind him. You stood beside Tom, holding hands in the middle of the crowd. The policemen were strategically placed, in case they had to act.

"The thing is..." He ran his eyes though the people. "I'm not stupid. This man right here... He's a policeman."

You squeezed Tom's hand and he gave you a look that meant everything would be okay. You were ready for that moment.

"My dear Vanessa... I trusted you. And you did everything you could to bring this man here today, like I wouldn't check his past... Trust is not something you can break twice. Once it's broken, it's over." He said, grabbing a gun from his belt. "Now you will..."

Before he could finish the phrase, all the officers across the room grabbed their own guns, that were brought to them thanks to the security being on the rebel side.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Finally, the smile was gone.

"Drop the gun." One of the officers said. "It's the police."

He didn't obey, of course. He grabbed Vanessa by the hair and put the gun against her head.

"No, you drop the gun." He replied. "Otherwise she dies."

Your heart was racing. What if there was a mass shooting? What if those 15% who didn't participate on this started a fight beside Steng? You were frozen in your place.

"There's no reason to kill her, you can't escape this place, no matter what you do." The policeman explained. "Most of your partners were arrested during your speech. It's over."

"Looks like I have nothing to lose, then." Steng's face was pure madness. He never looked so scary.

Took him a second to pull the trigger. Vanessa's death was just as quick. Or maybe not... That woman started to die the moment her daughter was taken away from her... Getting shot in the head didn't kill her, it freed her.

You couldn't understand anything that happened after it. You could tell there were people running, you could feel Tom pushing you. There was blood. It wasn't yours. You turned your head in slow motion and saw Tom's face in agony and his hand holding his arm. He just took a shot for you.

"NOOOOOOO!" You screamed as some people tried to carry you away from him. You grabbed everything you could to not leave his side, you slapped and punched the air and yourself.

You watched an officer carrying Tom and another girl, who was also covered in blood, outside. You didn't even see when Steng opened a whole on his own forehead before he got caught. It didn't matter. Nothing matters if Tom isn't there.

---

"Mrs. Hiddleston?" A nurse woke you up. After hours in that waiting room, the surgery was over.

"Is he okay?" You stood up in one jump.

"The bullet was removed successfully. We were afraid he could lose his arm's movements, but that doesn't seem to be the case." She explained. "He needs some rest, but he insists he won't sleep until he sees you."

"What are we waiting for, then?" You asked, walking to the room he was recovering at, with a nurse desperately telling you to stay calm behind you.

When you opened the door and your eyes met, all you could do was cry. It was more than seeing each other ofter almost losing him... It was the official end of the past that haunted you. You always knew Tom would mark the end of your suffereing.

"I was so worried about you..." Tom confessed.

"About me?" You approached his bed. "You are the one who got shot! I can't believe you took a bullet for me... I don't deserve this..."

"Listen." He said seriously. "The mistakes from your past never made and never will make you a bad person. I did this because I would rather die than live without you. And now it's over. Now it's going to be just you, me and our beautiful Elena."

"Poor Elena..." You sighed. "I know she's too young to understand all that happened... But what she saw was enough to traumatize anyone."

"We'll take care of her, don't worry." He assured you. "I'm sure she's a strong girl, just like her mother."

"I hope someday she finds someone who protects her as much as her father." You smile.

"I don't want to think about my little girl dating." Tom seemed clearly upset, but then he laughed with you. "I'll protect her forever, watch me."

"Oh, I'm watching." You laugh. "Forever."

---

@spidey-holland7

@theoneanna

@inlovewith3

@too-cold-for-youhere

@princetale

@drakesfiance

@kcd15

@hiddlestylesbaby

@yzssie

@crescent-night

@thepowerofawkwardcompelsyou

@hiddlesbitch1

@schizophrenicstoryteller

@damyzzzzz

@scorpionchild81