#argue with the WALL about whose responsibility and who messed up and who was in charge IT DOESNT MATTER

[florida3exclamationpoints]

I didn't realize Alec Baldwin was on trial already but if he doesn't get found guilty .........

[deuxcherise]

New Year, New Problem

C/w: Unhealthy behavior (?), happy lunar/Chinese new year theme, dragon x snake (?), dragon x tiger (?), snakesss, jade emperor appearance, Chinese zodiac stereotypes, random, no plot (?), start of enemies x lovers / rivals x lovers (?) Masterlist

Every lunar new year, the Jade Emperor hosts the annual banquet. However, unlike previous times, for some reason this time the Jade Emperor had decided to arrive later than the Celestial Animals.

CRASHHH!!!

The heavy marble table is thrown against the wall, shattering many bowls and dishes that took months to prepare. Cups full of wine that took years to age have been turned over, further adding to the ruined good mood that would have lasted a few days afterwards, if not at least a gracious week.

“Look at what you have done!” the Ox fumes. “All of the workers’ hard labor. Gone!”

“What I’ve done? How dare he show his face around here! You are not part of this banquet!”  the Tiger roars at the one who has angered him, hair puffed up.

“I would have been, had that conniving Rat not tricked me that fateful day!” the Cat retorts. “Besides, in the Vietnamese calendar—”

“Who cares? One or two drops of water couldn’t possibly outweigh an ocean,” says the Rat, looking away from the Cat’s glare. “That being said, there would have been enough food for everyone if that stupid Tiger didn’t waste it all.”

“HOW DARE YOU-”

While the angered Celestial Animals argue back and forth as to whose fault it was, the rest stand to the side, either discussing how they are all going to explain to the Jade Emperor as to what transpired to these events, or in silence.

The Pig, in particular, is too devastated to speak, half mourning the lost food and half in consideration of eating it off the floor. After all, every single block of this palace was crafted and now maintained by the best of the best housekeepers.

The Monkey stares at the remnants of spilled noodles, with half a mind to throw food at the angered ones, to either shut them up or to start a food fight to lighten the mood.

The Rabbit is quite fearful of the Jade Emperor’s potential anger, chittering and chattering about what to do to avoid punishment.

The Goat wonders if there is anything that can be salvaged from the mess, perhaps that plate of dumplings which have yet to fall off the plate, or that yet to be opened bottle of rice wine rolling around.

The Horse considers leaving, seeing as there could not be a banquet with all of the food gone. He would rather avoid the Jade Emperor’s wrath.

The Rooster, on the other hand, plans to remain as it is his job to ensure, should the night end dreadfully, that he’ll be there to wake everyone the following morning. Surely, he would be safe from the Jade Emperor for this responsibility. As too the Dog, whose job is to protect everyone.

The Snake looks at the Dragon, curiously.

“I sssee you’re taking thisss all in ssstride?” comments the Snake, flicking his tongue.

Eyes closed, the Dragon sips on her cup of tea as if she was at a tranquil tea party. When she does open them, there is a terrible flame burning in the slits of her eyes. “If I were to take down the Tiger now, the world would know no peace for the next millenia.”

“Ah. Ssso you’ll be ssstanding assside in this chaosss?” asks the Snake. The Dragon doesn’t answer, taking another sip. The Snake then asks, “Ssshall I offer a resspite?”

“I do not intend on leaving this place until I greet the Jade Emperor properly.”

“Oh, I know better than to dare asssk you to put aside your ssstub— I mean your sssteadfastness,” the Snake fixes his words when he receives a glare from the Dragon. “But asss you will be passssing the year onto me, I’m sssure you would like to have a place to eassse your troublesss, from all of thisss. A peaceful passssing guaranteesss good fortunesss for the coming year, yesss?”

In the chaos, one can witness the Tiger grabbing the Ox by their horns and flipping them over, only for the Mouse to jump off the Ox’s head to jump kick the Tiger in the face, only for the Cat to slap the Mouse down onto the ground, only for the Ox to quickly recover and tackle all of them. The Rabbit shrieks and the Horse neighs. The Monkey howls and the Dog whimpers. The Goat contemplates, Pig sighs, and the Rooster readies for the Jade Emperor’s arrival with fervor.

The Dragon sighs, feeling a headache come on. “You have no need to worry about me. All will be settled properly.”

The Snake tilts his head back and forth. “But you will not sssleep tonight. I merely offer company.”

“... Is there something you wish to gain from your generosity, Snake?”

“Not at all, Dragon. Not at all,” the Snake snickers, playfully shaking his head. “Prosssperity bloomsss from charity, doesss it not?”

“I suppose…”

CLANGGG!!!

The gong sounds loudly, silencing and freezing everyone in their place. Footsteps echo into the banquet hall until finally, the Jade Emperor makes his presence known. Several gasps erupt and the Celestial Animals stand in line to greet their great leader.

The Jade Emperor’s eyes look from the right to the left, sweeping over the entire banquet hall. His face is expressionless, almost stone-like. There is no anger, but there is no kindness. Everyone here knows not what he’ll do, but knows exactly that of his dissatisfaction.

“May I ask what had transpired here?” he inquires, his tone calm and steady.

No one says a word. Until the Horse steps up.

“Great Jade Emperor! What had transpired today began as a conflict between the Tiger and the Cat, the latter who arrived without a formal invitation.”

The Tiger growls. “That’s-”

The Jade Emperor holds a hand up, commanding silence. He turns and looks down to the Cat, who stands lonesome between the line of the Celestial Animals and the Jade Emperor himself. “I see that you are here now, after many centuries.”

The Cat bashfully looks between the Jade Emperor and the floor. “Yes. Was I not allowed here? Was this banquet only for the established Celestial Animals?”

“No,” the Jade Emperor simply answered. “All animals were invited, including you, Cat.”

One could hear the Celestial Animals stand up straighter in their place, as the Cat hides a smirk as he takes a bow. “Thank you for your graciousness, O Great Jade Emperor.”

“You’re very welcome,” the Jade Emperor says.

And thus from that day on, the Cat became a formal guest during the Great Lunar New Year’s Banquet.

“However… I cannot overlook the mess that you all caused.”

The Rooster pipes up, “Might I-”

“Whether you had participated in the destruction of the year’s work, or stood idly on the side, you are all responsible for not holding each other accountable.”

The Celestial Animals lower their heads, some in fear and some in anger and some in shame.

“Therefore, after the Dragon,” He nods to the Dragon who raises her head. “Passes the year over to the Snake properly,” He nods to the Snake who raises his head. “We shall have each animal pair up and live with each other for a year.”

Everyone looks at each other from side to side. Some stereotypical pairs, like the Horse and the Dog, or the Rabbit and Goat feel excited to pair with each other. Unfortunately, the great leader has other plans in mind.

With a gesture he manifests a list, a golden scroll that floats in midair and glows with a magnificence, holding all of the names of the animals. He begins with the first animal.

“Until the next year,” he begins. “The Rat shall be with the Horse.”

The Rat squeaks and the Horse neighs when they meet eyes.

“The Ox shall be with the Monkey.”

“What??” The Ox shoots a horrified look at the Monkey, who looks back with amusement and a shrug.

“The Tiger… shall be with the Dragon.”

The whole hall erupts with “Eh??” or “Great Jade Emperor??”

“Great Jade Emperor! With all due respect, why must I have to be with her?” the Tiger asks, exasperated.

“Indeed, must we be?” the Dragon agrees, stepping forth. She gestures to the Tiger. “He will die.”

Tiger jerks towards the Dragon, raising a fist. “What did you say??”

“I. Didn’t. Stutter.”

“YOU-”

The Jade Emperor raises a hand, silencing the hall once more. The Celestial Animals settle back in line, though the ones who have been paired off already are undeniably disgruntled. He continues running down his list: The Rabbit with the Rooster, the Goat with the Snake, and finally, the Dog with the Pig.

He flicks his hand and the scroll disappears. “You shall learn peace with your partner. If you do not,” he pauses, feeling the weight of his next words, “You will be dismissed from your position as a Celestial Animal.”

-----🐲🐯-----

As decreed by their great leader, the Celestial Animals have been relocated to live in homes in the heavens suited to their paired needs.

“.....”

“.....”

“Is tea all that you drink?”

The Dragon looks down contemplatively at her cup. “I suppose, since I’m forbidden from drinking your blood.”

The Tiger slams his fist onto their dining room table. “What is your problem with me?”

She glares at the Tiger, forcefully placing her teacup on the table as well. “I might ask you the same. Why do you always oppose me?”

He scoffs and leans in with his elbows on the table. “Oppose? Hah! Do you know how arrogant you are? Everyone thinks you’re humble since you came in fifth place because you were ‘helping out’ on the way. Be honest! You miscalculated and you came late.”

The Dragon’s jaw drops and she stands up with her hands on the table, towering over him. “From day one, that has always been the truth. I am not one to ignore those in need!” She smirks cruelly. “Unlike you, who has nothing but a stupid greed for power.”

The Tiger tosses the table to the side, destroying it in the impact and leaving nothing to serve as a barrier between the two. He takes amusement with the Dragon’s momentary unbalance. “Say that again, why don’t you?” he taunts, taking a step forward with his chest puffed.

The Dragon doesn’t back down, taking a step forward to meet him in the middle. “You. Are. A. Greedy. Bastard.”

The Tiger growls while the Dragon snarls, staring into each others’ eyes with audacity, neither one backing down.

Moments pass before the Dragon huffs. “It’s a shame.”

The Tiger narrows his eyes. “What is?”

“If you weren’t so hot-blooded, your eyes would be so much nicer to gaze into.”

…..

The Tiger blinks and leans back. “W-what?”

The Dragon doesn’t elaborate, twirling around and heading towards her room.

“Hey, wait a second!”

She stops and points at the splintered mess of the once beautifully carved table. “Make sure that’s fixed.”

“What? Why do I have to fix it?” the Tiger growls, indignant.

The Dragon turns around, her expression serene but haughty. “You broke it, you fix it. Isn’t that simple, or do you not have any common sense?”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” he shouts.

“But you have to anyway, right?”

On that note, the Dragon turns and strolls into her room, leaving the Tiger in conflict between fulfilling a simple task and his desire to crush her conceited, and pompous scaly behind.

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Comms

Title: Comms

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN! Teen reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: PG

Warning: Cursing, mention of wounds, blood, scared Mando.

Description: In an unexpected raid, Din finds himself unable to find his foundlings and searches for them.

Request: Hey! I love your stories and thought that I would submit a request myself. So this is about Din having a teen foundling/adopted child. They’ve known each other for a little over a year now and even if they don’t show it a lot they’ve grown attached to each other. So this particular story would be about the foundling nearly dying and Din being a scared Dad (I hope you get what I’m going for. Kind of a fluff/Angst story with comforting afterwards😅)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took forever to write, I've been travelling and my computer has been messing up so I have not had time to write at all. Anyways, here it is! I hope it's to your liking. It took me awhile for inspiration to hit but I am pretty happy with how it ended up. Enjoy!

....

“Okay kid, what do we do when we get in trouble?”

“Call for help and signal our location.”

Call for help and signal your location. That was all you were supposed to do, the one rule Din gave for you before he took you along with him anywhere outside of the safety of the Razor Crest. He considered himself lucky that you rarely wandered off without letting Din know where you were going, and that you always seemed to be able to handle most dangerous situations on your own. Maybe it was because you fretted to be too much of a bother for Din, seeing as he took you in almost a year ago when he could have easily left you. Din didn’t see it that way, if he was honest. You were valuable to the group, taking care of Grogu and the ship when Din could not, and he believed it his duty to protect all on the ship. Only once or twice did you call for him, and he was quick to come to your aid.

He did not think that today would be the day where his timing risked your life.

The Mandalorian found himself aiding a local trading village with a raider issue in exchange for information about a bounty he’d been pursuing. He’d led a group of men over to what they’d suspected to be the raider’s hideout and set up for an ambush. The Entrance of the cave’s dunes felt barren, and only after the mens’ legs grew sore from crouching and backs ached from huddling in the dark was it that Din began to suspect something was wrong. The quiet environment was abnormal behavior to the raiders he’d encountered before, no doubt this specific group would be any different.

“They’ll see you!”

Startling the men surrounding him, Din shot into the air and stalked the vicinity. The dunes’ walls stretched for meters long as he kept his piece raised, occasionally scanning weak spots for life forms or any piece of equipment. He paused, frowning a moment when his scanner detected nothing.

That was the first sign that things weren’t going as planned that day.

“...hiss…”

“...m..do... v.llage... here…”

There was the second.

Din raised his arm to speak into his comms.

“Y/N?” Nothing but static came back from the comms. Din fidgeted and smacked it a couple times before grunting in frustration.

Damn, comms were jammed.

Wait, they were jammed.

And in a moment of a horrible realization, Din was quick to grab the men and make their way back to the village. When they arrived they found the village in chaos- buildings were burning, villagers running, and materials and pieces and bodies strewn across the ground. For a moment, Din froze in fear and worried that you were on the ground as well, your comms still ringing static and Grogu taken from you, lost to the raiders, or worse, the Empire.

Din quickly made his way throughout the village, barely rounding the first corner when a group of raiders assaulted him. He threw punches at the first raider, using their momentum to kick them hard into another. After several dodges and shots from his blaster, most of them were dead aside from one that laid on the ground and clutched his blasted leg.

Din marched over and pressed his blaster against the wound. “Where are the hostages being held?”

As it turned out, the raiders had no plan of keeping hostages. When Din finally tracked the building where captives were supposedly held, he was unable to remain collected when he found that you and Grogu were nowhere to be found. Instead, he stood before raiders responsible for the attack, their blasters disturbingly put away as they argued amongst one another. Din didn’t bother listening, he looked around but saw no sign of his foundlings.

“Wrong door.” He said simply before taking out his blaster and shooting the raiders.

Pocketing his piece Din ran out of the stronghold and went outside, calling for you and Grogu. He thought about the worst possible scenarios that could have happened to you two as he took out the raiders pillaging the village, until all but one remained, the leader. He found him in the main courtyard of the village, his face hidden though his body seethed with labored breaths. He stood there for several moments before Din heard one last labored breath before the leader’s legs buckled beneath him and he slumped to the ground with a sickening crack of skull on stone. Hm? Din didn’t know what to make of this, and further stalked over, hand on blaster, examining the body. Upon closer look a blaster wound to the stomach was made more visible. So, someone got to the leader before Din could. That leaves the question… who?

A quick look around the area pointed out a trail of blood.

The Mandalorian followed this trail without any real reason behind it.

He found the remainder of the villagers at some point along the way. Sullen masses of faces mixed together, mourning the loss of their villages and lost ones but kept busy with treating the wounded. Women sat in huddles cooking with what food was salvaged and children sat quiet. One stood out apart from the rest in Din’s eyes, a large male leaning over a group of medics. Din recognized him as Cyrukee, the villager’s chief, who noticed the lone bounty hunter from the corner of his eye and stood up. In his arms was the most beautiful thing Din had seen all day, Grogu. The baby gurgled in joy as he walked up to the chief.

“There you are.” Din didn’t realize that he was holding his breath when he sighed in relief, taking Grogu into his arms.

“Sir.” Cryukee barely got a word out before Din turned to him.

“I’m looking for a youngling- my kid. Have you seen them?”

“Sir, please.”

“They’re this tall,” Din rears a hand near to your height, “they were with this little green baby. Your husband, he took them to the school. Where is he?” The Mandalorian made a full turn around to look for the red robed headman who was last responsible for your care. He reached for his comms and tried to reach you again. His voice rang back at him, and in a terrible moment of realization he realized that that was your comms.

“Where are they?”

“Sir, let me explain.” Cyrukee wore an exasperated expression and looked as though he was about to speak before one of the medics from the group he was with requested to speak with him. He spared a glance at Din as though he struggled whether or not to say something. And then, Din followed his arm towards the medics he was just with. Din didn’t know what to make of it, not able to recognize any of them. The Mandalorian took one last look at the chief, whose grave expression gave him reason to worry, and slowly walked towards the group of medics. He buzzed through the comms, trying to pinpoint your location. As he got closer he heard medics speak in soothing voices and their patient hyperventilating. Had it not been his own voice coming from the center of the personnel he would have moved on, instead he could not find the will to move. Grogu looked at him expectantly.

One medic in particular took notice of the beskar-armored man. He and some others quickly got up and pushed Din away before he could force his way through the medics to take a look at you.

“Hey, wait-wait-please.” Din grunted at the force and staggered several steps back. He took a moment to collect himself and Grogu sneezed in his arms. Dust must have gotten into his nose during the scuffle. “Please, my ward- my kid. That’s my kid.”

“Just a moment,” one of the bloodied nurses kept her hands on Din’s chestplate longer than he would have liked. He didn’t push her away though.

“I need to see my kid.” Din looked her in the eye, hoping that she could see his desperation through his helmet.

His kid. When Din looks back on this he would think about how he’s never referred to Y/N as his own before. He would have liked to think he said that so the nurses allowed him to pass easier. But deep down, he knew it was because of how much he cared for them.

“I understand but please let me explain. Sir, Sir!” Din retreated in defeat on his second attempt to get past her and the other nurses. She stared into his eyes and patted his shoulders, Din didn’t know whether she was trying to comfort him or control his movements. “They’re traumatized enough right now, and you moving around in that armor of yours will only make it worse.”

“What happened to them?”

“They had an encounter with Jetwal,” Din’s blood boiled at the recognition of the raider’s leader who’d died before him. “according to the children, your child was leading them to the outskirts when he found them. They killed him, he was threatening the children, and they shot him. Now, listen to me. They did get injured. Several blaster wounds to their limbs and upper torso- sir, listen please I cannot allow you to go to them just yet- they’re still panicking right now but I assure you their wounds are being treated right now. They’ll be fine, but disrupting our work will only inhibit us from treating them properly.”

She watched his gaze linger to the sound of your crying. “How much longer until I can see them?”

Din was not pleased to find that he was only allowed to see you when the nurse came for him herself. Reluctantly he walked a little farther away from the medics when asked to give them more space, and sat down with Grogu bouncing on his knee next to a young Twi’lek running their hands over their lekku to soothe themselves. Between glancing at the medics to keeping Grogu entertained, Din didn’t realize how much time had elapsed before noticing the nurse had come to his side to collect him.

She took a seat next to him. “They’re hurt very badly, but with time their injuries will heal. All they need to do is rest. You can see them now.”

Grogu giggled and played with the nurse’s finger that was threateningly wiggling on his little tummy. “Can you take him for a moment?”

Din stood up and gave Grogu a pat on his little head and rubbed his large ears out of habit. Something you used to do to calm the little green alien down after a terrible meltdown. Even under his helmet Din smiled at the alien before dredging towards you. You laid on a pile of fabrics that functioned as a makeshift cot, but you looked like you had a pile of fabrics on you with the amount of bandages that wrapped your body. You didn’t notice Din approaching you as you stared straight into the sky. Din wondered what you were thinking. What could you be thinking? From his knowledge, this was your first time dealing with major injuries from blasters. It must have made this whole ordeal so much more frightening to you.

Maybe Din was too light on his feet, recoiling instantly when you jolted at his touch and groaned in pain.

“It’s me, it’s me.” His voice was soothing, even more than normal which surprised him.

A sort of wheeze escaped your lips and you coughed. “Mando.”

“Hey kid.”

“I tried calling for you.” A gasp. “They jammed the frequencies.”

“Your message barely came through, kid. But it made us realize what was going on. We got here before more damage could be done because of you.”

Your form relaxed. “Good, good. Grogu?”

“With a nurse.” “The one with the sweet voice.”

“Yeah.”

“I liked her voice-” A cough. “Sounds like my mom’s. She was nice. She helped calm me down.” At this point Din had stared at you long enough to realize how puffy your eyes were from crying. He didn’t stop himself from reaching over to brush your H/C hair out of your face. You leaned into his touch.

“I’m pretty fucked up, huh?”

Your eyes were already locked onto his when he met your gaze. A tick passed, and Din’s eyes fell to the wounds you were referring to. He shook his head. “No, kid. That’s not what you are.”

“Feels like it.” Din scowled at your words.

“There are too many fucked up people in the galaxy, kid. You´re not one of them.” You look at him with a raised brow. “Y/N, you barely have any combat experience yet you took on Jetwal? What were you thinking?”

And you said something that surprised him.

“I was thinking of you.”

And Din couldn’t find any words. He cleared his throat and you continued, “We were alone and I had no idea when you’d come, I was scared something had happened to you because I couldn’t get a hold of you through the comms and that guy was coming at us and-” You inhaled sharply, wincing at what Din assumed was a jab in one of your wounds but he didn’t know how to help. You calmed a moment later, closing your eyes and furling your brows together. “I thought about what you would have done if you were there. You always looked like you knew what to do.”

To say that Din was proud of you would have been an understatement, he was beaming wonders underneath his helmet but realized that you couldn’t see through the beskar.

“I thought I’d lost you both.” Din admitted. “But I’m very proud of you. You saved lives, Y/N. That’s no easy feat for someone of your age.”

You grinned at him and laughed. “Did you do something like this when you were my age?”

“Yes, but I didn’t end up as fucked up as you did.” “Hey!” Din laughed and raised his forearm to block your playful hits.

A moment of silence falls between the two of you before you look at Din again. “Do you know how long we’ll be here for?”

“With your injuries, no clue. I’ll talk to the medics and Cyrukee to see what is to be done.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your fingers twitching involuntarily. Din’s hands find their way to your hair again. “Mando, I’m tired.”

“Rest. I’ll be here with you.” He watches you half-heartedly nod at his words and doze off in a matter of seconds. The injuries have taken a toll on your body, Din suspects, and he pulls a sheet over you. He sits with you, watching villagers talk amongst themselves, speaks with those who come by to thank him for his help, and accepts Grogu from the nurse when she comes over, thanking her for all she’d done for you. She told him that a thank you was not owed to her, and that if you were to need anything she was only a call away.

And when he was finally left alone, Mandalorian took one look to take account for his two foundlings. They slept soundly and with luck, heads full of dreams. Most importantly, they were safe in his care once again.

Din realized he’d been holding in a breath, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

.....

Taglist:

@kiara-is-gay @pcotato @sagedgeek

[pastelwitchling]

“What do you mean he’s been hit with truth serum?” Michael demanded.

Alex giggled from where he had his head rested against the wall, his half-lidded eyes on Michael. “You’re pretty.”

Michael and Liz stared at him a moment, Michael’s cheeks warm.

“Exactly what it sounds like!” Liz said urgently. “Look, it’s all my fault, I – I got in an argument with Max, I wasn’t paying attention, the solution was about to erupt, Alex jumped in to protect me, and he got hit!”

“It’s not so bad,” Alex said from the corner. He pointed at Michael’s open flannel. “I love it when you wear your shirt like that, by the way. Unbutton another one.” He straightened. “Never mind, don’t. I don’t want anybody staring at you but me.”

Michael exhaled slowly. He looked to Liz whose eyes were wide, her cheeks pink. “Why were you making truth serum?!” he snapped.

“It was unfinished!” she argued. “It wasn’t supposed to be a truth serum!”

“I like the way you smell,” Alex told her dreamily. “Makes me feel safe. Well, it did, until you played favorites and encouraged Maria to go after the only man I’ve ever loved. Did you ever consider what that would do to me? It killed me every second, by the way.” He perked up. “Oh! I left my copy of Little Women under the sofa! I’ll have to remember to check when I get back.”

Neither Liz nor Michael said anything in response to that for a long time. Michael felt an uncomfortable twitch in his spine at the mention of his ex, and Liz looked no more pleased with herself for her mistakes.

Michael shut his eyes. “Why am I here? Don’t you think I’m the last person who should be around Alex when he’s spilling his guts out?”

“You’re the only other person who can help me find an antidote to this!”

“Aww,” Alex laughed. “You’re both so scared of the truth. I don’t think my feelings have been any secret.” He pointed at Michael. “I’m in love with you –” He looked to Liz “—I’m disappointed with you.” He shrugged. “And I can’t even look at Maria anymore without wanting to scream and cry my eyes out.” He slumped. “I’m hungry. I don’t eat nearly enough.”

“I can’t –” Michael shook his head. “I can’t do this, I can’t be here.”

He turned to the door, made it just to the handle, and Alex called out in a singsong voice, “Michael’s running away again!”

Michael stopped, his whole body tense and on edge. He turned slowly to Alex to find him staring blatantly back at him, his smile intact, but his eyes glassy, as if a small part of him was still conscious of what was going on.

“I don’t run away from you, Alex,” he said.

Liz held a hand up. “Michael, he’s under a serum’s effects, he doesn’t know what he’s –”

“Don’t you?” Alex whispered, but his sad tone and teasing smile were enough to blanket the lab with a heavy silence. “Never seems to matter what’s happening to me, how hurt I am, how scared or lost or confused . . . you’ve never stayed for any of it.”

He stretched out his arms and legs. “Sure wish it had been that easy for me to abandon you like that.” He laughed. “But no, I kept coming back. Kept hoping. Then you’d make some joke about me –” he faltered, like a lump in his throat constricted his words, “being good for nothing but sex, and I’d feel like an idiot every time.”

Michael took a step towards him. “I . . .” he breathed. “Alex, no, I never meant any of that.”

Alex hummed. “I know, Guerin. I always know.” His smile turned small as he looked down at his lap. “But you were nice to her. I was always jealous of that. That you were so nice to her, but you were fine with making me feel . . .”

Liz was watching with furrowed brows, her own eyes glassy at the exchange. Michael suspected she only now was realizing the damage she’d done when she’d – as Alex had put it – played favorites.

“Feel what?”

Alex smiled like it was all a fun, tragic joke. “Unwanted.” His eyes turned dazed, his smile small. “I’m so tired. I don’t sleep nearly enough.”

Without another word to either of them, Alex curled up against the wall and closed his eyes. A moment later, he was breathing deeply.

Liz let out a shaking breath and sniffed, wiping her cheek. Michael watched as Alex slept, then turned to the table, pulling off his jacket. He levitated it over to gently cover Alex.

“What’re you doing?” Liz asked as he pulled out a few beakers.

“Working on an antidote,” Michael said. His voice was distant and dark to his own ears. “Before he wakes up.”

 Michael worked fast when he was pissed off, and he was pissed off, but only at himself. All this time, Alex had spent it with his shattered heart in his hands, and Michael had never noticed. Or maybe he had. That was the most frightening thought of all. That he’d known how miserable and tired Alex had been, and left him alone to deal with it.

He finished an antidote in less than an hour.

“Here,” he handed the spray to Liz, watching Alex. “You do it.”

“Right,” Liz took the antidote glumly, like a child being told to clean up their own mess. Either that, or she, like Michael, was still reeling from Alex’s honesty.

She sprayed several times around his face, let him inhale the odorless, colorless serum, and he woke with a flutter of his eyes. He blinked up at Liz who must’ve looked like she was about to attack him with perfume, and his brows furrowed as he pushed himself off the wall.

He looked around a moment, seemed to realize Michael was there, and his frown deepened.

“Did I miss something?”

“Quick,” she said. “Tell a lie!”

“Uh – about what? What do you mean?”

Liz glanced back at Michael, then took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Are you mad at me for talking to Maria about Michael?”

Alex blinked, startled, then his expression cooled and his impartial laugh slotted right into place. “What? No, Liz, what’s going on?”

Michael’s jaw clenched. “He can lie.”

Liz’s shoulders slumped, but guilt accompanied the relief in her frown. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s shoulders and hugged him tightly. “He’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I can lie?” Alex frowned, and Michael could see the gears in his head turning. “I couldn’t before?”

Liz pulled back. “You really don’t remember? My truth serum exploded, and you were hit!”

A moment of panic crossed his face before it was gone, so quickly that anyone that didn’t pay attention to every single thing Alex did would’ve missed it. But Michael did pay attention, so he hadn’t.

“It was truth serum?” he asked, then, “Why the hell were you making truth serum?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be truth serum!” she defended, exasperated.

“Liz,” Michael said darkly, “give us a minute.”

Liz looked between Michael and Alex for a moment before she silently nodded, brushed back Alex’s bangs, and left the lab.

Michael and Alex sat alone in the silence for a long time before Alex said, “I talked, huh?”

Michael shook his head. “Yeah,” he said. “You finally did.”

Alex met his anger with a cool glare. “I came to your trailer to talk, remember? You never showed up. I offered my help, you told me you liked someone else.”

“Stop it,” Michael growled.

“That’s what happened,” Alex reminded him. “What did you want me to do, Guerin? You went after her, you didn’t come after me.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

“Stop talking like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve given up on us!”

Alex stood, his expression darkening. “I wasn’t the one that fell in love with someone else, Guerin.”

He turned to leave, but Michael grabbed his wrist and turned him around so that he stumbled right into his chest. Michael wrapped his arms around Alex’s body, keeping him pressed against him.

“Neither was I,” he whispered against Alex’s lips.

Alex, startled, searched Michael’s face.

Michael’s eyes burned and his grip on Alex tightened. “I didn’t want to be unwanted.” Alex faltered. “I knew you wanted to have me,” he shook his head, “not that you wanted to keep me.”

Alex’s frown deepened and he sighed, turning his face away before Michael gripped his chin and pulled him in for a kiss. Alex gasped against his lips, shocked, but Michael couldn’t get his expression out of his mind; when he’d told the truth of how hurt he was, the way he’d smiled because he’d believed no one would care, and knew he had to be fine with that. Even under a serum’s effects, he’d warned himself not to show too much emotion, not to break in front of the people he no longer trusted.

It made Michael pull him in deeper, kiss him harder, tilt his head and taste Alex’s tongue and nearly tear off his shirt. He wanted to touch every inch of Alex’s skin, to whisper his love for him against his lips, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his arms, his legs. All this time, he hadn’t realized just how badly he’d been suffocating, and now, with Alex back in his arms, he felt right. He felt like he could finally breathe.

Alex pulled away. “Stop,” he panted, his hands curled to fists on Michael’s chest. “Stop, you can’t just . . . I don’t trust you anymore, Guerin.”

A lump lodged in Michael’s throat, and he held Alex tighter, holding him close enough that nothing could’ve fit between them.

“I’ll earn it back,” he promised, pressing his forehead to Alex’s to keep them close. “I’ll earn your trust back, I swear.” He swallowed. “I want to be good for you, Alex.”

Alex tensed, doubt flickering in his eyes. Michael cupped his jaw and held on tight, his thumb brushing Alex’s cheek.

He growled, “I know I can be good for you.”

Alex’s lower lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears. He whispered, “And what if I’m not good enough for you?”

Michael scoffed, unable to help the grin pulling at his lips as he closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of Alex against him.

“No one’s better for me than you.”

*** Shrug.

[oliverwvvd]

the potential for chaos

For the anon who asked about Yule Ball Flintwood, this is a beginning of sorts for you. This didn’t turn out the way I anticipated originally when you presented the concept, so I offer this as version 1.0 with something softer to follow.

pairing: Marcus Flint x Oliver Wood

premise: Marcus shows up to the Yule Ball solo. So does Oliver. Neither one is especially pleased about it, and the reasons why are personal.

wordcount: 2,194 words.

The Yule Ball. Welcome to the distinct scent of too much teenage desperation in one room.

The snide thought belonged to Marcus Flint, whose dress robes fit just fine, thanks very much, not that the same could be said of some of the people attending. Weasley the younger, for example, looked like a cat crawled onto the front of his robes, rolled around, and then obligingly threw up a lacy hairball before departing. Marcus’ were, shockingly, not green, because Slytherins were in fact capable of wearing colours that weren’t the house colours. Instead, he’d gone for navy blue, and they were tailored to fit. For now, he was leaning with his right shoulder firmly parked against a nearby wall, drink in hand (liberally spiked, courtesy of Pucey’s far too innocent face which had successfully hidden very good Firewhiskey somewhere on his person), and settling into the buzz around him.

He was razor-edged, dark hair and sharp jawline identifying him in the shadows, gaze steady still despite the warm burn of the Firewhiskey, and the growing warmth of the room. The music was alright, he supposed. He could work with this. He could especially work without being forced to find a date he didn’t like just to fit in, because no one dared give him crap about it. That left him with a sour thought of a very different kind he’d already decided not to dwell on. A lot of other people were on the dancefloor, but he was good right where he was, absorbing the potential for chaos and waiting for the lights to go just a little lower and darker. That was more his speed.

Unfortunately, someone else didn’t seem to care what his speed was, when they came up behind him and spoke into his ear. “You look bored, Flint. Looking for someone?”

Marcus didn’t even turn his head, simply took a sip of his drink. “Hardly. You evidently were, if you spotted me back here. Shouldn’t you be with your date, Wood? I’m sure you had a list of invites to choose from.” The words were cool and more than a little antagonistic, holding the pointed hint that he’d been fine by himself, and that Wood was welcome to leave him be now.

The other boy didn’t so much as take the hint, instead spoke more quietly, that hint of Glasgow burr there and gravelly in his ear. “Didn’t accept an invite, so no date. You?”

A little more to drink, but then he caught a hint of Firewhiskey that distinctly wasn’t from him. “So, you’ve also been in a corner drinking from whatever enchanted hipflask you and your mates in Gryffindor came up with, then,” he observed dryly. “Please to Merlin tell me at least that it’s not one with someone’s initials on it for when they inevitably drop and lose it later, at least.”

There was a very nearly painful silence then, and Marcus snorted, soft but still audible. “It figures.” It really, really did. “You know, it’s good form to at least cast a charm to hide the initials, Wood. I’m assuming it at least doesn’t belong to you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Marcus usually had to shut his eyes and count to ten before he bit the offending person’s head off and told them to mind their business at this stage. The Firewhiskey mellowed him out enough that it took away the edge to some degree, but it was still there.

“Good observation skills there, Wood,” he remarked, aware of other people potentially in earshot. “It’s almost as though it’s not really any of your business. Which it isn’t. But since you apparently can’t let it drop, I chose to attend solo. This is like a knock-off of all the same stuff that half of us deal with on holidays anyway.” The curse of the Sacred 28, old pureblood family gatherings and traditions and parties littered every holiday throughout the year. Inevitably, they all found ways of coping with the boredom after the age of fifteen, and usually that involved finding substances or decent company (preferably both) and vanishing from the scene entirely once it was deemed polite.

Wood moved in front of him then, there in the corner, solidly built shoulders blocking the rest of the room, mirroring the way Marcus leaned against the wall. He didn’t have any choice but to look at him then, and could only be grateful that the warm breath into his ear had stopped. If it hadn’t, he might have had to think too hard about how it made him feel, and he really didn’t want to right now.

“So you didn’t come with anyone.” It seemed like Wood was trying to make a point, but Marcus couldn’t tell what. It was frustrating, so rather than focus on that, he looked at the boy in front of him instead. He’d been lanky when they were younger, a bit skinny and coltish, but Quidditch had bulked him out and he was solidly built now at seventeen. And then there was the choice of dress robes; apparently he wasn’t the only one who made use of a tailor for once. That was a fine outline right there.

Realising he was admiring the view and that that wouldn’t do given the reason why he was in a mood in the first place, Marcus exhaled a sigh. “Obviously. What do you want, Wood?”

Wood seemed to realise he only had a finite amount of patience. That was a years overdue realisation as far as Marcus was concerned. “To dance with you.”

That made Marcus stare for a few seconds. Seeming to register that he wasn’t going to get a response unless he pushed, Oliver tilted his head at him. “One dance, Marcus. Something slow. We can stay right here in the corner for all I care, since you seem to prefer lurking in the shadows.” Then brown eyes examined him far too closely, his lips curled up into a smile that held just a hint of smirk at the edges. “Presuming you’re not too caught up in posing and sulking, of course.”

Oliver was crowding him now, just a little, and Marcus wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about it yet. His immediate response was no longer to punch the other boy in the face, that had been gone for a long while, so that was progress. “You can’t hold your Firewhiskey and you’re seriously misreading things, if that’s the best offer you can give me,” he pointed out bluntly. “So if you don’t mind, I’ll continue minding my own business right where I am. Lurking in the shadows.” That was when he leaned back and away, and took another sip of his drink. No one could see them back here. That thought made his pulse race.

Oliver (Wood, his mind stubbornly reminded him, trying to hang onto it) wasn’t necessarily going to just leave him alone, though, or so it appeared. “Then come out of here with me for a minute,” he said, voice quiet but still carrying through the space between them. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Marcus sighed exasperatedly, and drained what was left in the cup. Obligingly, it vanished the moment he set it down on a nearby table, and at this point, he’d given up arguing with Oliver. “Fine. You get two minutes.”

Once they did get outside, though, Marcus hadn’t quite registered just how much Oliver intended to make the most of those two minutes. He found himself rapidly dragged around a corner and pressed into an alcove hidden behind a statue that he hadn’t even known was there. When he went to ask what the fuck, Oliver put a hand over his mouth. “Shh, someone will hear.”

Beyond annoyed and now suspecting where this was going, neither of which he enjoyed, Marcus dragged Oliver’s hand off his mouth and hissed his next words. “What are you doing?”

Earnest brown eyes were fixed on him then, and this time, Marcus couldn’t get away or give him the cold shoulder. “Are you seriously still mad that someone tried to ask me to this thing?”

Marcus gave him a truly evil glare then. “You mean, am I pleased that someone else asked the person I’m not allowed to walk down the corridor with? I’m absolutely thrilled. Someone else walks up to you and asks right where I can hear; I kiss you in dark corners and Quidditch changing rooms for three months and get ignored when convenient.” The tone was flat, but the sarcasm wasn’t.

He saw Oliver wince, and then, completely annoyed and altogether done with the conversation, Marcus went to shoulder past him. Instead, he found himself pushed back into the stone, found himself being kissed, and he wasn’t letting Oliver think that was the last word on it. He wasn’t about to be lulled into compliance. Rather than lean into it, instead, he nipped the other’s bottom lip sharply, just enough to make him feel it, a kiss like a warning, before he reached up and sunk his fingers into his hair.

If he couldn’t have the evening, he was going to make sure Oliver went back with bruised, swollen lips, hair a mess, and every possible hallmark to show that he’d vanished with someone. Let everyone wonder who.

That it changed when Oliver seemed to yield, to surrender to being kissed rather than one doing the kissing didn’t escape Marcus either. It wasn’t until he could feel him trembling that Marcus released him, leaving him looking faintly dizzy where he stood. He smoothed out his robes then, slow and insouciant, enough to make Oliver watch the trail of his hands. “I’m not going to take whatever scraps you decide to throw me and be happy that’s all I get,” he said, words short, making sure they landed home. This was probably one of the worst sides of him. “You don’t act like it, so you don’t get to call me yours. Because I’m not.” Wasn’t that just the biggest lie he’d ever told, but it was supposed to be, because he was doing it purely to be mean and he knew it.

He lifted his thumb to the corner of his mouth then ran it along to the middle of his own lower lip, as though he could taste Oliver there. He could, Firewhiskey and everything that had become so familiar since they first crashed into trying to understand what this was. The reason he really did it, though, was to be a little bit cruel, to watch Oliver’s pupils dilate some more, to see him want to close the distance again, and then to deny him. Or at least, that’s the intention, right up until Oliver shakes his head. “Merlin help me you’re impossible sometimes,” was the set of words bitten out. “I was trying to apologise. To tell you that I only wanted to go with you, but I also wanted to protect this because it’s ours and people are incredibly nosy. I’m not ashamed of what we’re doing. You might not be mine, but I want you to be.”

Those were a set of words that Marcus badly wanted to be true, and it was enough to stop him cold, to make him rein in the sulking (if he was honest about what he’d been doing, that was it) and register them. The attempts to deflect hard that his feelings had actually been hurt had all ultimately proven to be unsuccessful, and he knew better than to use kissing as a weapon, it too often backfired and this was very much a case in point.

As though Oliver sensed the weakness somehow, damn him for it, the next time he was being touched was much gentler. “We could dance right here, if you wanted.” The words were breathed between them. That was when Marcus realised that they could still hear the music from the hall.

He made a decision. “Nah,” he said, not hesitating to turn down the suggestion. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.” He gave Oliver a pointed look then, and threw down the gauntlet. “Together.” It was a ceasefire, or the closest that they’d get, because they still needed to talk about the actual feelings involved at some point.

There was no phasing a Gryffindor with that kind of challenge, though, so Oliver didn’t even bat an eyelid. Show them anything like a bet you can’t and they immediately decided that not only could they, but screw you who says I can’t. The only reply Marcus got was a hand in his. It turned out he did want to kiss Oliver softly then, so it still took a few minutes longer for them to get back to the hall. When they did, the night sky that illuminated the ceiling had darkened to hold a spill of stars, and the lights had gone down to something far lower and barely there.

Oliver got his one dance. What he also got was a truth in his ear. “I’m only yours if you’re mine. Non-negotiable. What about it?”

The night wasn’t over yet.

[nomsugayoongi]

Off My Face.

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)

Tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smutty smut, softJK.

Disclaimer: So, I literally created a Tumblr to post this mess. There are already a bunch more parts written which I can post if wanted. Haven't written anything in ages so be nice and forgive my overwhelming JK softness. :p

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Who's that?" She asked, leaning against the wall next to Namjoon. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room, clearly confused. "Who?" He replied. "The purple haired dude that just walked in. Over there by the door. Black jacket." She muttered, squinting through the darkness. Namjoon chuckled and looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? It's Jungkook." He said.

She gasped and squinted even harder. "Eh??" She squeaked. "That's not Jungkook. Look at the hair. It's...long, and there's way more tattoos there than Jungkook has and..." Her rebuttal died mid sentence as Mystery Purple Hair moved out of the shadows of the doorway and she saw him clearly. It was indeed Jungkook but he looked...different. She'd only been gone a couple of months but apparently that was all it took for Jungkook to transform himself. He looked...older. He appeared to have shed his "puppy" look and what was stood across the room from her was nothing but man. Hot man. Jungkook scanned the room, stopping to talk briefly to Jin before he caught sight of her. His face broke into its token bunny smile and he said something to Jin who nodded before he made his way across the room. "You're back!" He grinned. She gulped quickly, paying absolutely no attention to the nose dive her stomach was currently doing into her shoes as he approached her. "I'm back" she confirmed, returning his smile. He strode straight over, scooping her up into a bear hug. "How was England? Did you miss us? Are you happy to be back?" Jungkook asked, setting her back on the floor and pulling back. She nodded. "Massively. England was...England. Cold, wet, grey, joyless. But nevermind that, what happened to you? Someone leave you alone with a Sharpie?" She teased, pulling his right arm out by then wrist and turning it over to indicate his new ink. He chuckled. "I like them" he shrugged. She glanced up, catching his big brown eyes then gasped again. A silver bar now pierced his eyebrow. "And you've poked holes in your face. Was nobody watching the maknae while I was away?" She teased. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grinned. "Welcome home" he said, pulling her into another hug. She spent the evening catching up with her boys. Laughing riotously, eating great food, regluing herself to Suga's side and wondering why she ever felt the need to go back to England. If anything, the trip back to her country of origin had done nothing more than cement the fact that there was nothing there for her anymore. Her life was here. Her family was here. Her family was the people all gathered in this house. She felt utterly content and beyond happy to be back. However, there was a niggling little something that was putting a crimp on her perfect homecoming. She could not, for the life of her, pry her mind off Jungkook. And as the evening drew to a close and one by one, the guys started retreating to their rooms, the noise died down and her thoughts got louder. What had happened to him? What had happened to her that she couldn't focus on anything but him. He was just Jungkook. She'd known him years. He was one of her family. He meant the same to her as the others. But her mind was screaming and his name was the only thing it was saying. It was approaching 3am. Suga had passed out hours ago and was fast asleep sprawled along one side.of the corner sofa next to her. The room was in total darkness except for the flicker of light from the TV screen. Namjoon was half asleep on her other side. Hobi, Jin, and Jimin had gone to bed already. V was sat at a table opposite tucking into some Ramen with Jungkook. Both engrossed in their conversation and their noodles, she allowed herself to study him in the flickering light. His hair was considerably longer than when she last saw him and now coloured a deep purple, Contrasting strongly against his flawless skin and framing his face perfectly, then resting just above his shoulders. Her urge to run her fingers though it was making her hands restless and she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa. She swallowed hard, her eyes skipping over his features. Pretty brown eyes, newly pierced eyebrow which really suited him, cute nose, sensual, slightly pouty lips that broke into the most disarming smile, strong jawline, slender neck. She tried to swallow past her increasingly dry mouth as she became painfully aware of her heartbeat, thudding more and more erratically the longer she looked at him. She reprimanded herself silently, arguing in

her mind that this was ridiculous. He was Jungkook. It didn't matter that her stomach rolled uncomfortably every time he looked at her. It didn't matter that she wanted to trace every line of the dark ink that snaked his arm with her fingertips. It didn't matter that all she could think about was running her nose slowly along his jawline, inhaling the scent of his skin as she clenched his soft, long hair in her fingers. It didn't matter that there was nothing she wanted more than to disappear in him. Her nose brushing his, close enough to feel his warm breath between them, his lips parted, hers skimming gently along his, hot, heavy breath, the pressure of his soft lips yielding to hers, the taste of his tongue. His hands, strong, firm, sliding slowly down her back, hitching up her shirt to touch skin as he pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered, her breath caught in her throat, stomach churning. What the hell? It was Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. This couldn't be happening. She snapped back into herself so suddenly she wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep. Her heart was racing. Tae and Jungkook were looking at her when her eyes finally focused on a solid object. "Bad dream?" Tae asked with an amused smile. "Did I fall asleep?" She muttered, genuinely confused. She kept her gaze locked firmly on Tae. She could see Jungkook out of the corner of her eye but was terrified that whatever had just happened to her was written all over her face. "Well you just jumped out of your skin so I figured you had." He replied. Her face was burning. She could practically still feel Jungkook, smell him, taste him. She needed to get out of here. She jumped up, causing Suga whose head had been resting against her knee to flop unceremoniously back onto the sofa, waking him with a start. "HUH? He yelped. "Erm....sorry Shugs" she muttered, ruffling her hair and trying to get her bearings while still carefully avoiding looking at Jungkook at all. "I need to go...pass out" she grumbled, heading straight for the stairs without looking back. She knew that exit was highly suspicious but once into the safety of her room, she didn't care. She leaned against the door, bracing it with her body as though she expected someone to try kick it in. The air was cool and refreshing thanks to the open window and she breathed steadily, trying to return her thumping heart to a regular rhythm. "Oh this is not good!" She whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The following morning came far too quickly after a restless night. She just couldn't settle. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell had happened last night? What was that half awake fantasy business and why was it replaying in her mind like an iMax movie with full surround sound and smell-o-vision. She dreaded leaving the confines of her room for fear of running into him. Just the thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. "This is stupid!" She grumbled to herself, throwing her legs off the bed defiantly. "I will not be a prisoner in this god damn room for nothing. Last night was...a one off. Everything is fine. I will go downstairs, I will see Jungkook and he will just be Jungkook. No weird romance movie slideshow, no flutterings, thoughts or desires of any kind. Just...normal" Even she didn't really believe her whispered self pep talk but she feigned conviction anyway. She slid out of bed, pulled on ripped jeans and a hoodie and approached her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she reached for the handle and practically threw herself out of her room. Her determination was not only building by the second but she was also flooded with a sense of defiance. She jogged down the stairs, ready for the day ahead. Looking forward to hanging out with the boys and having a lazy day. She could hear the faint murmer of chatter as she approached the kitchen. Hobi was up for sure and maybe Namjoon. She strode into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Morning guys!" She was greeted with a chorus of responses and scanned the room. Hobi making coffee. Namjoon leaning on the

counter. Suga slumped at the kitchen table. Jimin and Tae chatting as they poured orange juice. No Jungkook. She ignored the wave of relief and made a beeline for Suga, ruffling his hair as he grumbled sleepily against the table top. "Morning Shugs" she grinned. Namjoon was looking at her quizically. "You seem...better today" he mused. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him as she squeezed passed Hobi for the coffee pot. "Better?" He nodded with a look of amusement. "You were...weird yesterday. Not yourself. You seemed...distracted." he said. She shrugged and shook her head. "Jetlag probably. I felt kind of out of it to be honest. Just needed to be home and sleep" she replied, nonchalantly. Namjoon wasn't buying it at all and she could tell by the look on his face but he nodded as though he accepted her reasoning. She stayed in the kitchen with the guys, filling them in on her trip back to England and what had happened during the 3 months away. She got so caught up in it that she didn't think about Jungkook at all. That was, until he came down. She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when he padded into the kitchen. Barefoot in black shorts and an oversized white t shirt showing off his tattoos. His long hair deliciously tousled. He was still sleepy eyed but he looked warm and...inviting. She dropped her spoon, clattering loudly against the table making everyone turn and look at her. "Whoops. Butter fingers" she mumbled sheepisly. Everyone carried on with what they were doing apart from Namjoon who was looking from her to Jungkook with a smirk. "Jetlag come back?" He teased. She could feel the heat rising to her face and hoped to every deity under the sun that she wasn't blushing. "Never dropped anything before?" She questioned. He shrugged and chuckled playfully. His gaze was casual but she felt like he could see every thought in her head. She pushed her half eaten cereal bowl away from her and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to look casual but had an inkling that she was failing miserably. Suddenly Jungkook was right behind her, leaning over the back of her chair to reach for her unfinished cereal. His hair tickled the side of her face and the faint fruity smell she associated with him flooded over her. Her breath caught sharply. Her heart kicking into double time. It lasted literally seconds but it seemed like an age before he straightened up with his stolen breakfast. He flashed her a bunny smile and wandered over to the fridge to grab milk. She realised she'd been holding her breath the entire time and let out a quiet huff. Namjoon's smirk had turned into a full blown grin. Flustered, she stood from the table and exited the kitchen. Maybe she'd find some solace in the lounge. She flopped wearily onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Damn. It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had Jungkook turned from bunny to honey overnight. A few more tattoos, an eyebrow piercing and slightly longer hair didn't change him that dramatically. He was still the exact same Jungkook she'd known for years. But...he wasn't. He was hot. Like...painfully, sinfully, stomach clenchingly hot. Had he always been this hot and she'd just not noticed? She knew he was attractive in the general sense. She worked for BTS. She saw the effect he had on women every day of her life. But... she'd never been one of them. He was just...adorable, sweet, regular Jungkook. Now one trip to England had turned the world on its head and there was nothing regular about him. She groaned with annoyance, closing her eyes. She was going to be objective about this if it killed her. She'd always been close to all the guys. Each one had a different facet to their personality that made them so very dear to her. Yoongi was a part of her. She loved him completely. Namjoon was her confidante. She could talk about anything with him and absolutely trust that he'd never give her anything back but honesty and understanding. Jimin was her sunshine. He could brighten the darkest of days with no effort. Tae was her sweetheart. One of the most

genuine, lovely people she'd ever known. Hobi and Jin made her laugh until she couldn't breathe on days when laughter seemed a million miles away. And Jungkook was a bunny. Sweet, playful, easy going, her gaming buddy. They were all integral to her. But NEVER in a romantic sense. It seemed almost laughable to her to put romance and any one of them in the same place. It just wasn't that thing. Ever. They were family. More than simple, fleeting romance. They were her ride or die. None of the others had changed a bit. She still loved them completely. She'd still die for any one of them. But now Jungkook wasn't so much tiptoeing as stomping in huge obnoxious boots into a whole new territory for her. Him and romance seemed intrinsically linked. They went together like water and ...more water. She couldn't even look at him without her mind throwing up a million different scenarios, none of which were located even remotely near the friend zone. She pictured him as he was when he walked into the kitchen. Objectively, that was just early morning after not a lot of sleep Jungkook. Not like she hadn't seen him like that a thousand times before. But this morning he was different. Sleepy, disheveled, soft and warm, relaxed, comforting and so so sexy. Jungkook and sexy were not two words that went together. Now she couldn't separate the two if her life depended on it. God, he was sexy. Like, lose all thought, toe curling, scream into a pillow sexy. Her mind raced, presenting her with thoughts to only fuel the fire. Him laid in bed, languid and comfortable, snuggling into him, feeling his body heat, legs entwined, burying her face into the back of his neck, smelling his hair as he grumbles happily, rolling towards her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still closed, skimming his fingertips up her arm until they stop on her neck, his thumb slowly stroking along her jaw, his lips meet hers in a lazy kiss, still halfway between sleep and waking, sweet to begin with, gentle, his lips brushing softly as he's pulled from his sleep, then teasing as he realises what's going on, his lips part, his tongue tickling her lips, asking for entry which is happily granted. His hand moves from her neck back down her arm until he finds her hand. Their fingers entwine as he rolls her onto her back and straddles her, lifting her hands to pin them either side of her head. He's more forceful now, tongues brushing together, his kiss deep and heady. A soft moan of contentment rumbles in his throat. He breaks the kiss, her eyes flutter open to see him on top of her, hair falling into his eyes as he scrunches his nose up in a wide smile. "Good morning" he whispers. "Everything ok?" A voice broke her from her daydream and her eyes snapped open. Namjoon was stood in the doorway of the lounge with the same grin he'd been sporting when she'd left the kitchen. "Peachy. Why?" She responded with a tight smile. "You're being weird again. If I didn't know better I'd think you and Jungkook hooked up" he shrugged. "WHAT?" she squeeked. Her attempt at casual fell completely flat. She sounded more like she'd just been stung by a bee. Namjoon laughed heartily. "Something's going on. What it is?" He questioned. She considered brushing it off but this was Namjoon. He could read her like a children's book. She swallowed hard, suddenly needing to say everything in her head out loud to a human person. Maybe that would make her realise how dumb it was and restore her sanity. She sighed heavily and noticing the expression on her face, Namjoons grin faded into a look of concern. "Can we talk?" She muttered. He frowned, nodding. "Of course. What is it?" He asked. She looked around and ran her fingers though her hair. "Not here. Outside?"

[internalsealpanic]

The Mechanics of Living part 2

Summary:  You trick Tim into going to a closed-off sector. Things go well. a/n: I will be doing a director’s cut for this is anyone is interested (by anyone I mean @glorified-red) Warnings: very slight body horror and gore 

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

It was easiest to just tell Tim all the facts rather than rely on the goodwill you've built in 3 years to persuade him.

There's a reason sector 4-D was cordoned off last year. For some unknown reason, a section that had been little more than a concrete wasteland started teeming with infected life.

People say it was an abomination (An unidentifiable, Tim corrected but you still think abomination captured the appropriate dramatic for that.)  that wandered in from farther in the waste. Some people say it was one of Bludhaven's beasts they let loose. You highly doubt Bludhaven was in any shape to contain whatever it is ravaging sector 4-D. After all, it wasn't in any better shape than Gotham was at the moment. You doubt it's ever been in better shape. They're like two cities constantly caught in this vortex of awfulness, looking at each other from two different sides thinking 'poor bastards'.

Sector 4-D was an easy hunting ground where young scavengers got their feet wet before they could move on. Now it was a dead zone, a dead zone with too much potential to pass up.

Like every sector, sector 4 was vast and unexplored and supposedly, there had been a library there. A building full of books and most importantly, medical textbooks.

You feel a little bad plucking at Tim's heartstrings when all you cared about was the payout. Appealing to the guy's sense of responsibility was kind of cheating but-- BUT! The specified textbooks do have stuff about bacteria and illnesses so you aren't really overstating their importance.

You try to push down the number of zeroes the man had shown you as you zip past a rusted sign.

You don't really trust anyone other than Tim to help you with this. Besides, all the other people who won't stab you after cashing in the reward probably don't know half as many words as Tim so you'll definitely need him to get the right books.

You stare at the rows of cars before you. They're overrun with weeds and vines and rust. A stark reminder that your Gotham is just a fraction of what it had been. You stop your bike in front of a taxi with a faded yellow body.

"This is it. This is where your life as an adventurer begins."

You swallow back the wave of nostalgia, letting the bike roll past it into the mess of cars to keep it a little more hidden. It isn't illegal to go to this sector yet. At least not when you checked but you really don't wanna gamble your Scavenger's license on clerical errors by either of your guilds.

Tim steps out of the sidecar, careful not to jostle Basil in his bag. You want to point out that you should probably wake the cat up otherwise you were wasting food on him but you knew better than to expect cooperation from Tim's fur ball from hell.

“So which theory about the illness do you think is the most plausible?” He asks, tucking the walkman away. You both thought it was stupid name but you didn’t really wanna question the teller. “The one that involves the least aliens.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at Tim whose hand is currently being eaten by his cat. “Or alien adjacent things.”

“So, you're one of those people who thinks the government did it.” Tim is *such* a little shit. Maybe that’s why his guild master gave him the most useless cat on the planet. Grade A my ass, you think staring at the furball nipping at his knuckles.

“Not on purpose, no.”

Tim raises a brow. “I didn't know you had that much faith in humanity.”

“Pffff, I think they just fucked up.”  

“Here, I was accusing you of being optimistic.”

“A mistake really.”

You two come to a crossroads.  A giant large yellow lantern hangs in the middle of the street, swaying listlessly in the air. It’s strange.

“Do you think the people in the old world used those to scare away the sick?”

“If they did,” he looks around, “it didn't work.”

Your eyes flit over the area.  Stone walls crumble, vegetation willing in the cracks. Still, even with the overgrowth of life, the city feels hollowed out. Nearly a decade ago, you’d first laid a hand on one of the stone arches of the city hall just down by main street. Nearly a decade ago, you felt the stone crumble beneath the pads of your fingers. Nearly a decade ago, you had come the closest to knowing what it was like having the sickness. Even one of the great cities had been reduced to a fraction of its size.

“Do you think the color of the light matters?” Tim asks, pointing again to the lamp.

You squint. You hadn’t noticed it at first but yeah, the color of the lights was different.

“Maybe,” you tilt your head, “or maybe the people from before were just idiots.”

“You just have a bad opinion of them, don’t you?”

“Like you don’t.” You shoot back, tapping your bat against your boot.

Tim rolls his eyes and shrugs.

You try to smile at that but something’s wrong. Your skin bristling, the air is stale despite the wind. You watch the lantern sway back and forth, the thin wires holding it up, fragile and precarious. A bad feeling crawls up your spine.

There’s a pressure in the air, the atmosphere turning into a vacuum.

Basil hisses, looking as vicious as he can.

The wind stops.

The skittering voices rise like the fluttering of locust wings.

A writhing mass, pulsing and menacing, blots out the horizon. It opens its maw to wheeze and the stench of rot floods the air. Your insides curdle and wilt from the intensity of the putrid odor. Once the *thing* draws another breath, the skittering begins again and this time you know where it’s from.

You can see it in the way its neck twists and undulates, its rotting flesh rippling as the fragmented voices rasp out of its throat. Its limbs, deformed, move unnaturally as it ambles towards you.

You stare at it. Your limbs unmoving. That thing *is* an unidentifiable. In all technicality, it fits the neat taxonomy laid out by experts. It is neither man nor beast. Its form corrupted beyond recognition. It’s rotting and shambling. But the thing you are looking at cannot simply be sorted neatly because it is what it is.  

A creature that god himself did not touch.

An abomination.

You splay a hand on Tim’s chest, pushing him back lightly.  Glancing at each other, you nod as you slowly step back into an alley. You quietly curse Gotham’s gloomy weather for the thing’s appearance. You thought you would have at least ‘til sundown to look for loot before having to flee to a safer sector. But when in Gotham, nothing is ever certain even the rising of the sun.

All you have to do is be quiet. Easy enough. Being silent is the first thing you learn to be in this world.

It blinks at you.

It. Blinks. At. *You.*

Your heart stops, the blood running in your veins turning into lead.

Dozens of eyes blink at you. They’re not all human from the looks of them. It opens its maw again, your muscles bunch up in anticipation of its miasmal breath. The discordant voices coming from its mouth coalesce into a horrible sob.

Tim grabs your wrist and pivots towards an alley. The sudden change in movement shocks your body awake. You scoop Basil up and bolt down the alley, letting Tim lead the way.

Desperately, You try to concentrate on the scuff of your shoes against pavement instead of the creak of limbs and the plop of flesh as it drips off the creature. The pinching of Tim’s features tells you he’s doing the same.

You round the corner, shoulder hitting brick, narrowly avoiding dozens of hands reaching for you. Basil yowls and hisses and you would apologize but your shoulder is screaming at you and goddammit Basil, we have bigger issues.  

You and Tim squeeze into a space between the buildings seemingly too small for that thing’s gelatinous form. You make the mistake of looking back only to see its limbs skitter up the building and down the other end of the alley. It smiles at you, rows of teeth glittering in the sparse light.

This was it.

This is where your life ends.

Where else is there to go?

You expect the acceptance to come in like a flood or relief. Life was hard with very little room for breath. Scraping by, tooth and nail, knuckles bleeding for every scrap of stability. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You suddenly feel so tired like the adrenaline had been keeping you together for the past few years. Acceptance should have come easy.

But it doesn’t.

You open your eyes to glance at Tim, finally resignation sets. His features are still pinched and his hand is trembling beside yours. You really did screw this one up big time, huh?

You bite your cheek.

Watching Tim’s mind work, you know you have to keep him alive. You squeeze Tim's hand. He narrows his eyes at you. You give him a crooked smile and let his hand fall.

You pivot, foot pushing against the pavement as you launch yourself to the other end of the alley.

If your estimates are correct, you can buy him 15 minutes. 15 minutes would be more than enough for him to make it back to the bike--

Tim yanks on your hood, throwing open a door. The creature howls as Tim hurls both of you into the building.

"What the heck was that?!" Tim screams.

"A Dick." You answer, rubbing your head. fuck. Tim could throw.

"No! You were being fucking stupid."

You scowl at him in the dark. "Thanks Tim. I get it."

"No, you don't!"

"Can we argue--"

The door rattles and shakes. A fist-shaped dent embeds itself on the metal door. You glance at each other before scrambling towards the very safe-looking stairs.

You fly up the steps like hell was on your heels and as far as you're concerned, it was. You wrench Tim's bag from him and you're half tempted to throw him over your shoulder as well but you're not sure the stare case can hold that much weight.

If you climb to the roof--  If you... climb... It can climb. Fuck.

You and Tim seem to come to the same conclusion as you throw yourselves into another door.

You shove a sofa in front of the door and sit on it.

"Please tell me you've miraculously come up with a plan." You hiss glancing over to Tim who's staring at the window.

He glances over his shoulder to look at you. "If I could pull off miracles, you wouldn't be so dumb."

You sigh. Ok, yeah. He has every right to be mad. It was an incredibly stupid move but it's a numbers game and yeah.

Tim runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He needs to come up with something. He glances out the window. He walks over and leans out the window.

"We should jump."

"Would you like to elaborate?" You wheeze, still not really letting go of a

"Follow me."

"Tim, I have never trusted you less in my life." You snort, quietly. But you make your way to the window.  You set Basil down and look at what Tim is pointing to. There's a dumpster filled to the brim with trash. There doesn't seem to be any infected mice in there and the road to the right is a straight shot back to the bike.

You lick your lips.

"So we're on the same page."

"Uh, if that means what I think it means then yes."

Tim lets out a breath as he opens the window as quietly as possible. You listen to the steady beat of limbs thumping against the wood. You hold a collective breath. The window clicks into place with a loud snikt.

The thumping stops.

You practically shove Tim out the window while you stare at the door. It rattles and shakes.  A screech erupts the stairwell as you jump out the window. You land with a thump, sinking beneath the mounds of plastic.

Your heart is hammering and pressing into your throat. Its beat is in sync with the steady thump of the limbs. The wet squelching of rotting flesh scraping against the rusted metal of the dumpster. You want to heave but Tim shoves a hand in your face. You gag silently. Tim's hand smells putrid from the trash.

You hold your breaths until the thumping goes away. You don't dare breathe until Basil settles down.

You fall limp against the trash. Your limbs feel like jelly. You gag. Thinking about jelly right now is probably the worst thing for your health.

Tim nudges you with his foot. You turn your body over as quietly as you can.

You watch him make shapes with his hands. You frown.   You cycle through your memory trying to remember what the gestures mean then let go of Basil when you do.

Basil rises from the trash, padding against the plastic.

When you hear Basil jump down to the pavement, you dig your way out of the trash.

"For the record, I hate your plans." You say, gagging.

"What was yours?" Tim fires back, dusting his hair.

"..."

"Just what I thought."

You're the first to climb out, holding your arms out to him mockingly. He silently threatens to curb stomp your face. You snort and tuck your hands to your side.

Thankfully, you make it to the bike without incident.

Tim tucks his body into the sidecar, occupying himself by comforting Basil. You hand him a bat as you start the bike.

"Just in case."

You kick the bike into gear as you two ride into the sunset.

You breathe a quiet breath, letting your eyes slip shut for a moment. The road is clear for about 14 breaths.  That’s all you want to think about.

At the fourteenth breath, you open your eyes to an open expanse of road, endless and breathtaking. You turn to Tim and laugh. He gives you a sour look. You’ll just buy both of you some canned pineapples later and he’ll maybe forgive you. Basil certainly does as he doesn’t participate in Tim’s sour protest, opting instead to crawl into Tim’s bag.

Then you hear it above the roar of the engine.

The skittering.

Voices like the fluttering of wings.

It screeches, the raspy cry making your skin crawl. You don’t wanna look back. You don’t want to see the unnatural movement of its body as it bounds towards you.

You kick the bike to a higher gear. The engine will hate you but you can’t repair it if you’re dead.

The bike slows down. Tim stands up raising your bat over his head, bringing it down. It does not clang. The sound is squishier and moist. Your stomach rebels. Hazarding a glance behind you, you see the writhing mass holding onto your bike.

“TIM,” you shout.

“I--” Swing “-- AM--” Swing “--A LITTLE--” Swing “--BUSY!” “THERE’S A CAN OF HAIRSPRAY IN MY DUFFLE.”  

Tim ducks down, throwing you the bat. You swing wildly at the creature, summoning up a truly impressive bout of swearing.

Tim sprang up, nearly falling off the sidecar if not for you grabbing his shirt. Tim flicked the lighter, pressing down on the nozzle of the spray, and unleashing fire on the beast. The thing cries, voice shattering as it burns. You watch its flesh burn. Oh, what a pleasure it was to see it burn.

"We are never doing this again!" Tim wheezes.

"Of definitely fucking not." You bark, kicking the bike to a higher gear. The purring of the engine sounds like music to your ears.

"We are definitely doing easy sectors by a bit." You laugh.

When you don’t hear a snarky remark, you glance to your sidecar. Tim is slumped into his seat, breathing hard. You raise your brow but turn your attention to the road.  You shake him. You shake him again and again.

Tim doesn't respond.

You pull your hand away and it’s slick with blood.

______________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @bungunz​ , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon​ @notsostraightweeb​

[thegreatestofheck]

Not So Unrequited ⚜ JJ Maybank ⚜

request - (from Anon)  JJ and the reader arguing about anything and he’s like I Love you and she’s begging him not to say it because she doesn’t think she can be loved. warnings - swearing (lots and lots your welcome), steaminess,  synopsis - in the middle of an argument with your best friend, he says something to you that you had never wanted to hear. 

(thank you for this, anon, I love it! I hope this is what you wanted, I made it a lil steamy because- well, I have no excuse. Threw a little bit of body positivity in there because everyone is beautiful, and you all deserve to know that.)

“God, you’re such an idiot,” Kie sighed, pressing an ice pack against JJ’s cheek. “She’s gonna be pissed.” 

JJ rolled his eyes, letting Kie baby him because it made the both of them feel a little bit better. He opened his mouth to say something when the door to the Chateau opened. 

He had expected it to fly open with a flurry followed by the hurricane that was y/n. But when it creaked slowly, barely opening enough for you to slide inside, both Kie and JJ froze. JJ flicked his gaze away from Kie and met yours. 

A chill ran down his spine at the look in your eye. Silent as you were, everything that you weren’t saying was storming behind your eyes. Your dead calm was more terrifying than your raging storm. 

You walked into the dark Chateau and leaned yourself up against the wall, crossing your arms. Tension shrouded the room. Kie felt like she had stepped in the middle of a show down, her movements on JJ’s bruised knuckles short and awkward. JJ knew he was about to get his ass handed to him in a verbal beat down and he wasn’t really in the mood for it right now. 

And you, you were pissed off. Beyond pissed off. 

Kie stood slowly, setting her cleaning supplies off to the side. She glanced quickly over at you, but your gaze was fixed solely on the blond boy currently nursing a bruised cheekbone. With a sigh, Kie put a hand on JJ’s shoulder. 

“Good luck,” she whispered before making a quick break for the door. JJ grunted in response.

The tension in the room increased ten times when Kie left. JJ refused to meet your gaze again, still holding the ice pack to his face. 

“Why are the lights off?” you asked, breaking through the silence. 

“Hurts my head,” JJ mumbled. You resisted the urge to sigh dramatically. 

“Cause you have a concussion. That’s what you get for getting in a 3-on-1 fight.” 

JJ tightened his jaw and slouched farther in his seat, dropping his hands into his lap. You finally let out that sigh you had been fighting back. Pushing yourself off of the wall, you crossed the room and lowered yourself to the floor in front of JJ’s feet. He watched you carefully with wide, curious eyes, just waiting for you to explode.

But you didn’t.

You lifted your hand slowly and took the ice pack from his hand and gently pressed it back against his swollen face. His breath hitched in his throat from the sudden cold. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

Being so close to you made him freeze, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. It made him want to throw up. He wondered why people liked falling in love if this was how it felt. Or maybe this was only what an unrequited love felt like. 

“You are a fucking idiot for taking those guys on like that,” you said, your voice quiet but shaking. 

“They were dicks,” JJ replied. He looked away from you as you cradled the ice pack in your hand. 

“You can’t fight every dick in the world, Jay.” 

“But I can fight every dick who treats you like shit.” 

You’re calmness started to quake, threatening to become something far more wild. 

“I don’t need you to defend me,” you told him, setting your jaw to keep your anger at bay. He had been trying to help, after all. JJ scoffed and slouched even farther. You pulled the ice pack away and scowled. “What, you think I need you to fight my own battles?” 

“You can but you don’t,” JJ snapped. “You let them harass you and call you names. You let them get away with it.” 

“I don’t let anyone do anything. I just don’t justify their taunting with a response. They’re not worth my time.” Your eyes narrowed at JJ. It had always been this way. Someone said anything bad about you and he would throw himself into a fight instantly, even if you were unphased. You just wondered why in the hell he thought that meant he should take it into his own hands. “If they’re not worth my time they’re sure as hell not worth you getting all bloodied up for.” 

“God, you do this every time.” JJ pushed himself up out of the chair and stepped past you. You glowered at him as he paced toward the other side of the room. Rising from you ground, you couldn’t bite back your irritated response. 

“Every time you do something stupid? Yeah, I’m sorry for caring about your sorry ass. Newsflash, jerk face, but I don’t like seeing you get beat up. It’s not fun, for any of us.” 

JJ ran his hands through his hair, but he didn’t say anything, which only fueled your fire even more. You crossed your arms and your glower turned into a full glare. 

“Why do you insist on fighting every goddamn prick who has to run their mouth?” You continued. “What’s so important that you have to throw yourself into every fight? Why can’t you just leave it be?” 

He still didn’t respond, but he turned his back on you as his face went red. 

“Huh? Are you listening to me? Jay, why-”

“Because I love you, goddammit!” JJ whirled around to face you, his eyes wide, his hair a mess, his breathing ragged. You stiffened, the anger in your chest vanishing like a painful mist. 

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the shock evident in your face. JJ’s face fell in desperation, dropping his hands back to his side. 

“I love you.” He said it again, much more desperate, but with no less emotion. JJ almost smiled. He took one short step toward you and you took one back, your eyes dropping to the ground. JJ’s smile fell. 

“Well, stop it,” was all you could find to say, your voice still quiet. 

“What?” You hated to hear the heartbreak in his voice, but it was better that you break his heart now than ten years down the road. 

“Just, stop!” Your hands trembled at your sides. 

“Stop what? Stop loving you? I tried that already and it didn’t work.” You crossed your arms over your stomach and turned your face away from him. “Say something, please. Anything.” 

“I don’t even know what love is, JJ. How could you possibly know?” You asked, still not looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“All I know is that every time I’m around you, I want to be holding you and my stomach gets all tied up in knots. That I miss you whenever you’re no around. That whenever I see you with another guy, I want to tear his fucking throat out. That it fucking breaks my heart when you cry. That I would burn down the entire world before I let anyone hurt you.” 

You finally looked up, your heart beating wildly in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, not now, not ever. You were supposed to just be friends. It was better that way. 

“What happens when those feelings go away, huh?” You asked, nose burning and eyes brimming with tears. “I say I love you back and we start dating and we get married and have kids and then what happens when you don’t have those feelings anymore and you wake up some day and you don’t love me anymore, what fucking then, JJ?” 

You sounded angrier than you felt. You felt terrified, like an animal trapped in a cage, the walls closing in tighter and tighter around you, suffocating you. 

“We’re not your parents, y/n.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they said the same exact thing when they were our age.” Bitterness laced your every word. Sure, maybe you had been talking about your own parents, but he didn’t have to actually mention them. It just made the sting all the more real. 

Your dad had up and left when you were 12, leaving you with a mother whose heart was broken beyond repair and a 4 year old sister to take care of. You hadn’t believed in love from that day on. And JJ knew this, so why was he throwing it on you now? Why was he putting you through this when he knew damn well what it meant to you? 

“You can’t,” you said, giving your head a shake and praying that the tears wouldn’t fall. “You can’t. Not me.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m fucked up, JJ.”

“Everybody’s fucked up.” 

“I’m especially fucked up.” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” There was real anger in his voice, but not anger directed at you. He was angry that the world was so messed up that it had convinced you that you didn’t deserve to be loved. 

And it shook you to the core. 

“I’ve kept my damn mouth shut about this for so long, y/n.” His voice broke painfully. He looked exhausted. You wanted to cross the room and pull him into your arms and wipe the tears from his eyes because if he wasn’t saying the words he was saying now, that’s what you would have done. “Didn’t even tell the Pogues. I kept it to myself because I knew what it meant to you but you’ve gotta know because I can’t do this anymore.” 

“What about all those....all those girls from the parties?” You crossed your arms as your mouth ran dry, grasping for straws. JJ scowled, looking more hurt than ever. 

“They were nothing.” 

“Those girls aren’t nothing, JJ. They’re people.” 

“I meant they were nothing to me. They were just...distractions.” 

“From me?” You said the words like a breath, your stomach twisting as you did so. Because the more JJ spoke about what he was feeling, the more you recognized them as a mirror of your own. 

“Yeah. From you.” You felt yourself fall still again, but it wasn’t that frozen stillness from fear. It was a calm that washed over you and you didn’t know why. “Because every time I saw you sneaking off with one of those guys I just-” 

JJ’s words fell off as you took one small step toward him. As soon as that first step was taken, you couldn’t stop yourself from crossing the room until you were standing right in front of him, chest to chest. 

He looked down at his, his lips parted. Your eyes flitted from his down toward his mouth before venturing back up to meet his stare once again. 

“Maybe....” You paused, glancing down again. “Maybe we aren’t our parents.” 

JJ’s eyes were fixated on your lips, a breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t going to make the first move, you knew that, yet you weren’t sure you had the strength to break what was left of your walls. You wanted him to do it for you, but he wouldn’t want to push you any farther than he already had. 

Your stomach was already tangled into knots even before you stood on your toes. JJ’s eyes were closed even before you pressed your lips to his. Those knots detangled into butterflies and exploded throughout your bones. 

The kiss was a ghost of a thing. At least, it was at first. Because once the dam was breached, the water all came rushing out with a startling force. 

Your hands left your sides and found their place tangled in his hair, pulling him down closer to you. He hesitated, his hands flexing at his sides as the desire raged within him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He whispered, his eyes opening just a tad. You gave yourself one chance to breathe and second guess yourself. “Because once I have you, there’s no chance in hell I’m letting you go.” 

You pulled one of your hands out of his hair and rested it against his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before giving a short nod of your head. 

“This is what I want,” you told him. “I just want you.” 

That was all the permission that JJ needed. All of his hesitation was gone, vanished into thin air. Tucking his hand behind your neck, he put his lips right back onto yours with a fire that was just waiting to burst forth. 

You thought you had been control when you broke the dam, but JJ took no time in proving you wrong. With one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your hip, he pushed you back toward the wall. 

What little breath remained in your lungs was sucked away as your back hit the wall. Months of tension and deep rooted desire hit a boiling point as your lips found a rhythm with his. Your fingers left his hair to tug him closer by the collar of his shirt. Any space between you was too much. You needed his skin against yours, you needed to take his heat for your own. You needed him and you were no longer afraid to admit it, at least to yourself. 

JJ pinned you to the wall, his hips pressed up against yours. His hand shifted from behind your neck to the front, hanging loosely around the base of your neck just to keep you steady. His other hand found it’s way under the loose fabric of your shirt, kneading at your skin with his palm.  

You let out your first ungodly sound of the night, muffled only by JJ’s lips. You felt him smile so you pulled back. 

“Careful,” you murmured, eyes still closed. But JJ’s grin persisted even as he pressed butterfly kisses against your cheek, trailing past your jaw and finding rest against your neck. 

“Shit,” you breathed as his tongue grazed across your skin, his teeth pulling gently here and there. He started to work his hand farther up your shirt and you had to pressed your hands against the wall to keep yourself from falling. 

“All those other boys didn’t make you feel like this, did they?” JJ whispered against your skin. His breath was warm and sent ripples down your spine. You popped one eye open to glower at him. 

“Fuck you,” you breathed as he smiled against you. His hand at the base of your throat tightened ever so slightly and your glower deepened. 

“Was that a no?” 

“I don’t play that way, Maybank,” you ground out through your teeth. 

“Then how do you play?” 

You pushed him away from you and for a moment a look of hurt crossed his face. But when you grabbed hold of the bottom of your shirt, never breaking eye contact as you pulled it off and discarded it on the floor, a grin replaced that fear. You reached out for him, pulling him back in. 

Both of his hands went for your shoulders before tracing the curve of your body all the way down to the waistband of your shorts. You nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, you hands holding his head just where you wanted. 

“Damn, y/n.” There was that damn smirk still. You wondered what it would take to wipe it off his face. His hands worked at the zipper of your shorts, tugging on the hem before you even realized he had them unbuttoned. 

“You really don’t waste any time, do you?” You asked him. Instead of responding, he pressed a kiss against your neck. Part of you wished he would stay there again. But then he kissed your collarbone and then he was lowering him self slowly, pressing his lips to the skin beneath your breasts, then just below your bra. 

You were pretty sure no boy had ever done anything like this before. You weren’t ever one to take your time with them because, after all, they were just a poor replacement for who you really wanted. But the attention that JJ gave your body as he continued his trail of kisses down your stomach was enough to make your eyes roll toward the back of your head. 

He was on his knees in front of you, tantalizing, as he pulled your shorts down as slowly as he could. He kissed your thighs once they were exposed as he pulled the shorts the rest of the way down. You were going to simply step out of them when he put on hand on your calf and the other just under your knee. 

“What are you doing?” You asked with an almost nervous laugh. JJ looked up at you as he started to lift your leg. A smile pulled at his lips. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time to have you,” he mused. “And I’m not wasting a second of it. 

He rested your foot against his shoulder and gave the side of your knee the smallest, most butterfly inducing kiss. You heaved out a breath and leaned your head back against the wall as JJ continued to kiss your inner thigh. His hands kept you steady. You had never felt more grounded. Your toes curled, fingers tensing. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, as if it was just a spoken thought. You lifted your head and looked down at him. 

“What?” 

He looked back up at you a look somewhere between concern and amusement. 

“You’re beautiful.”

You moved your leg off of his shoulder and joined him on your knees. For a reason you didn’t know, your eyes swam with tears. His smile was gone but there was something far deeper in his eyes that a smile couldn’t properly communicate in that moment. 

You took his hands in yours and pressed his bruised knuckles to your lips. When you met his eyes again, you gave a small shake of your head, the tears threatening to overflow. 

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” you whispered, trying to offer some kind of explanation for your strange actions. JJ looked taken aback. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, JJ, I’m serious. You’re the first person-” Your voice broke. 

“Is that why you didn’t believe me when I told you I loved you?” Your head fell and the tears you had been feeling started to fall from your eyes. He hooked his finger underneath your chin and moved your face to look back at his. “Hey, you’re beautiful, alright? And I’ll say it a million times until you believe me.” 

You nodded, sniffling as you tried to hide your embarrassing tears from him. He leaned forward and kissed both of you cheeks. You let out a small laugh as he pulled away. 

“Sorry to ruin the mood,” you said, still holding one of his hands. That look returned to JJ’s eyes, the hungry one, as he looked down at the clothes you were left in, or lack thereof. 

“Nothing’s ruined,” he said. “I’m still getting you in that bed.” 

You wiped away what was left of your tears and felt a smile of your own pull at your lips. 

“What are you waiting for then?” 

                                                                ***

Pope grumbled angrily as he climbed into the van, Kie sliding into the front seat. 

“I don’t see why they had to kick us out,” he said, plopping down into one of the seats. 

“I don’t think we were really kicked out, per say,” said John B up front with a slight smirk. “You were the last one in there, Kie, what happened exactly? One minute they’re screaming at each other and the next....” 

Kie shrugged, keeping her eyes fixed on the road as she started the car. 

“Guess they just reached their breaking point.” 

“I think that bed is going to reach it’s breaking point,” Pope huffed. “I mean, couldn’t they wait until they were alone to start going at each other?” 

Kie rolled her eyes and John B just laughed. 

“Give it until the morning. I’m sure they’ll pretend like it never happened,” John B said with a sigh. 

“Are you kidding?” Kie looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Those two have been waiting to tear each other’s clothes off for months.”

“Really?” Pope and John B both said at the same time. Kie laughed and looked back to the road. 

“You boys are so clueless.”

“Damn,” Pope breathed. “And they didn’t tell us?”

“He’s afraid of commitment and she’s got abandonment issues, of course they waited this long.” 

“Kie, when did you become a goddamn genius?” 

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” 

The van rattled down the road, the three friends laughing together. 

                                                           ***

JJ’s arms curled around your stomach, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He slept softly, breathing gently through his nose. Every now and again, he would mumble something, his lips grazing against your exposed skin. 

But you were wide awake. You ran your fingers aimlessly up and down his arms, relishing in the feeling of his skin still against yours. 

He hadn’t stopped telling you you were beautiful since he first said it. Every chance he got, the words would pass his lips. He probably said it more times than anything else, other than “shit” and “fuck”, which you loved to hear almost just as much. Almost. 

When he flopped down next to you, sweaty, breathless, and still grinning like an idiot, he wrapped his arms around you and said it one last time, whispering it into your ear before he fell asleep. 

And you believed him every time. 

If he had been any other boy, this was the time when you would have scurried out of bed, collected your clothes, and made a break for it. But you stayed. There was no where you would rather be than here, cradled in the arms of the boy who loved you. The boy that you loved. 

You moved slowly, carefully, turning until you faced him. JJ groaned quietly, shifting his head against the pillow, but he didn’t wake. You felt yourself smile again at the sight of him. That stupid grin was finally gone from his face. Now you found that you were missing it. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your voice quieter than the breeze that blew the curtain of the window above you. You tucked your head under his chin and he pulled you in tighter. A smile graced your lips. 

Even if he didn’t hear you, it was good to say aloud. Maybe now you could say it when he was awake. Maybe someday. Maybe not today, but someday. That thought was enough to sing you to sleep. 

JJ opened a single eye and looked down at you, unable to keep his smile at bay any longer. You had fallen asleep quickly, but he didn’t care. You didn’t need to know he heard you. He would deal with that in the morning. For now, he just let you sleep. 

[bettertomorrows-ao3]

Are You My Mother?

Ellie is frantic. Dina is amused. JJ has some questions.

JJ stays still in Ellie’s arms and his teeny voice is muffled when he says, “Max said you’re not my real mom so we’re not a real family and that you only fake love me.”

Tags: Post-Game, Family Fluff Rating: Teen for language

EllieDina Week // Day 4 // FAMILY

---

It’s almost sundown when Ellie gets a visitor at work.

Her office is a medium-sized shack located near the stables of the main gate, a perfect place to house all the paperwork she needs in order to facilitate her new role as the patrol manager. Ellie had originally argued with Maria that the chore didn’t even exist, that it seemed like a feeble arrangement to give her a task somewhat similar to what she was used to just so she could still feel useful around town.

Maria admitted to some truth to Ellie’s point, but she also insisted that she would love for Ellie to start learning to ropes of leading the town. There was a buried emphasis in her request that suggested Maria only trusted Ellie to be the one to succeed her role in the future. That Ellie was already deeply embedded in the tangled mess of a family the Miller brothers left them with—and implication was what led Ellie to accept the job on the spot.

Managing patrol rotations is not the laid-back kind of job Ellie thought it would be.

It’s far more stressful than what Maria initially described it would be, but it’s a task that keeps her on her toes on a daily basis. It was hard to believe it at first, but rescheduling patrol rotations sometimes felt like hugging an exploding bloater. Not to mention how balancing patrollers with the right partners oftentimes resembled the act of gathering sheep into a barn. One wrong move, and a stray could lead the pack in the wrong direction.

Jackson’s townsfolk always knew she would have the job in the future, anyway. There was a tacit understanding that regardless of the complications of their familial relations, Maria’s niece would one day take over the duty of leading Jackson. It was never a question of whether it would ever happen, but more of when Ellie would feel comfortable to take on these responsibilities.

It came as a surprise to those who personally knew her—that Ellie would start making her way up before she was even in her thirties. Most of them thought they would have to wrench a 100-year-old Ellie away from patrolling duties, so to have her willingly take a job inside Jackson’s walls was a bit unnerving.

The desk job isn’t as exciting, but it’s definitely enough work to keep her busy throughout the week. Her favourite part of the job was toward the end of the day. When her last task was to wait for the afternoon patrols to come back home, and she spent the time quietly drafting ways to adjust routes for possible expansions to the town. Nothing felt better than to wrap up a workday with a glint of hope for a better future for her son.

Ellie is knee deep in concentration, head down studying a map and ready to sketch out a new patrol route when a knock on the door breaks her focus. It’s Andres, Dina’s new apprentice at the electric shop, a gangly young man whose family recently moved to Jackson. His presence immediately makes Ellie panic. They’ve only met three times since Dina hired him, and their interactions have been cordial at best. So, what else could warrant his appearance at her office at the end of the day if it weren’t for something urgent?

“Hey, uh… Ellie. A-are you busy?” he croaks out, Ellie can tell he’s nervous, but what for she’s not sure yet.

“Andres, right?” she asks hoping to calm his nerves even though she knows exactly who he is, “what’s up?”

“D-dina sent me t-to tell you to please… go to her house as soon as pos-possible once you’re finished with work,” Andres stutters out, making Ellie all the more concerned.

Ellie stands up from her desk and promptly grabs her coat from the chair, “did something happen? Is she hurt? Is JJ okay?”

She tries to calm herself enough to hear a response from him. Whatever it was must have not been too terrible, because if something dire had indeed happened to her family, there is no way Maria would have sent this semi-stranger to send the news.

“Oh! I don’t—um…” the young man stutters and brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck, “she didn’t say. I’m just a messenger.”

With her jacket half worn on her back, Ellie looks down to the scattered papers on the desk and then to the clock on the wall. She only had 30 minutes left before the last patrol shift returned and reported back to her. Ellie was not one to ever leave her post early, but she was unfortunately not immune to whatever nervous energy Andres passed on to her.

The whole situation was terrifyingly curious, and she had to get to her family to find out what was happening. Ellie scribbles a note on a torn piece of paper, neatly folds it, and hands it to noticeably anxious Andres.

“Since you’re a messenger and all… can you quickly send this to Maria for me, please?”

**

Ellie tries not to sprint to Dina’s house. She doesn’t want to alarm anybody in town, so she ends up speed walking instead. In hindsight, sprinting would have probably looked way less ridiculous than the quick shimmy her hips do when she makes herself walk fast.

The thought comes too late. Dina’s house is already in view when she decides to run the rest of the way.

Ellie pauses on the porch to catch her breath. She knocks on the door twice before she curses to herself. Why is she knocking when she has a key to the door? Ellie digs in her pockets for the familiar shape of the metal when the door swings wide open.

“Did you forget your key again?”

Ellie looks up and releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Dina is leaning on the door frame with a smirk on her face. She looks perfect as ever and all Ellie can’t stop herself from hugging her right away. Relief floods her senses when she feels Dina reciprocate, her arms wrapping tightly around Ellie’s waist.

“Are you fine? Like, you’re not hurt?” Ellie whispers into her ear.

“Yes? Is this a trick question? Why?” Dina is puzzled by Ellie’s panic-stricken face and leads them into the house.

“Andres said I had to come home, and he was all nervous and twitchy, so I freaked out and kind of ran here,” Ellie admits before adding, “wait, what about JJ? Is he safe too?”

Dina eyes Ellie as if gauging to see if she was being pranked. When she realizes that Ellie was serious, she laughs and gives Ellie a quick peck on the lips.

“JJ’s upstairs doing homework, but babe, you do know Andres has a speech impediment, right? Like, it’s a medical condition, it doesn’t mean he’s actually nervous,” Dina chuckles when Ellie finally realizes that there was actually nothing to worry about.

“A speech impediment? You mean to say I got nervous for nothing?” Ellie takes a step back to shrug her jacket off her shoulders.

“Mhm,” Dina agrees, and takes Ellie’s jacket to hang on the coat rack by the door.

“So, what was so urgent you sent you lackey out to fetch me?” Ellie tilts her head to the side, still so apparently confused by everything.

“Well… your son—” Dina starts but Ellie interrupts her.

“Oh no. What did he do?”

Dina points up to the stairs, “your son picked a fight at school today.”

Ellie’s eyes bulge out in amazement, “Potato picked a fight? But… he’s only five years old!”

“That’s what I thought!” Dina shrugs, “but then I remembered who his parents are and then I realized that the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Holy fuck, you didn’t not just say that,” Ellie laughs.

“I literally just sounded like my mother,” Dina groans.

“Seriously, though,” Ellie asks, treading carefully but not without a smirk on her lips, “why did he get in a fight in the first place? Because questionable parents aside, he’s practically an angel!”

Dina sighs and leans forward letting Ellie hold her once again, “he said he doesn’t want to talk about it. Only that he wants to ask you something important.”

Ellie glances up toward the stairs wondering what their son could possibly want to ask her. She wonders what kind of demon would have likely possessed their sweet little spud to attack another student at school. The worst part is not even knowing how to explain to their son about not resorting to violence when the world they lived in required such actions to survive.

Despite the severity of the situation, Ellie couldn’t help but to joke, “if he wants to learn how to punch better, he’s asking for the wrong mom.”

The comment earns Ellie a light jab to the chest from Dina.

“Oof. Way to prove my point, babe.” Ellie shakes her head and grabs Dina’s hand to lead them upstairs to JJ’s room.

They share a look understanding that whatever JJ wanted to talk to Ellie about, they all had to do it as a family.

**

Ellie enters JJ’s room first. They find him slumped and sitting cross-legged on his big boy bed. Ollie is on his lap, and they seemed to have interrupted a silent conversation between JJ and his beloved toy. Ellie slowly makes her way to sit on the edge of the bed leaving Dina behind to lean on the doorframe. Their family was complete, but they still wished to respect JJ’s request to only talk to Ellie.

“Hey, bud. I heard what happened at school today. Wanna tell me about it?”

JJ sinks further into his bed and fiddles with Ollie in his hands. He hesitantly looks up and whispers, “do you love me?”

The question baffles Ellie and feels her heart breaking at sound of doubt in her son’s voice. She is more than a little concerned that her son somehow thinks there is a universe in which she could possibly stop loving him. She immediately scoots closer to him and wraps him tightly in her arms.

“Of course, I do, Spud. What makes you think I don’t?” Ellie eyes Dina by the door making a speechless plea for some comfort on her part. Dina only nods her head, assuring her that she is doing all right.

JJ stays still in Ellie’s arms and his teeny voice is muffled when he says, “Max said you’re not my real mom so we’re not a real family and that you only fake love me.”

“What? Who the fuck is Max?” Ellie growls making JJ flinch under her grasp.

Ellie has a sudden urge to hunt down this Max to teach a lesson about not meddling in other people’s business. Dina loudly clears her throat as if to remind Ellie that she is veering off track. Ellie has to remind herself that children can be unconsciously callous and that whoever this kid was probably didn’t mean any harm, and most likely doesn’t know any better.

“Are you angry with me?” JJ asks her and slithers out of her arms.

Ellie is reluctant to let him go and only does when Dina approaches them to sit next to her.

“Mom is not angry with you, Tater,” Dina speaks up, “she has her thinking face on.”

JJ pokes Ellie on the cheek as testing to see if his mom would notice. Ellie fails to hide the smile that emerges on her face. She kisses JJ on the head and comes up with a way to explain the dynamics of their family to a five-year-old.

“Do you remember the book I read to you the other night about the lost bird asking the dog if she’s his mother?” he nods and she continues, “well, our family is kind of like that. You have momma, and you have me. And just because we don’t look alike, it doesn’t mean that I’m any less your mom than momma is to you. Do you understand?”

The truth is that the allusion to the old story isn’t quite fitting to their situation, but Ellie hopes that it is basic enough for their little boy to understand the way their family works.

“You’re the dog and me and momma are birds, and you love us anyway?” he asks so innocently she and Dina can’t help but to laugh.

“I love you always no matter what other people say, Spud,” Ellie reassures him, and she is relieved to see him accepting her explanation, “we’re our own little family and I will always be your mom, even when you don’t see me.”

“What about momma? Do you love momma too?”

Dina tilts her head at Ellie, mimicking the hopeful look in their son’s eyes.

“Your momma owns my heart, Tater.”

Ellie feels Dina’s hand grasp one of hers, their fingers intertwined. JJ sees the contact, jumps on them, and nuzzles his little head in between theirs. The moment was so tender they almost forgot what had started the discussion in the first place.

Until JJ spoke again, “if we’re always a family, how come you don’t live with us?”

And damn, their son really did have some hard-hitting questions that night.

[slowly-writing]

The Blink of an Eye

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2532

Requested by anon: Can I request a nat x daughter!reader where r is adopted and discovers she has powers but tries to hide it from nat because she doesn’t think she’d be a good avenger? love your writing ♥️

“Y/n, come on!!! We’re gonna be late!” Peter’s voice startles you as you’re brushing your teeth. You glance at your phone and your eyes go wide. If you don’t leave in the next five minutes you’re totally screwed.

“I’m coming!” you yell back, sprinting out of your bathroom. You stumble a bit and somehow end up halfway down the hall. You pause for a second, looking between the bathroom door and the place you’re now standing. It’s a solid five yards but you don’t have time to try and figure out what the hell just happened. You have to get to school.

“Finally. You’re gonna get us detention,” Peter grabs your hand and tugs you to the door.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Peter,” Wanda is trying to stifle her laugh as the three of you make your way to the garage.

xxxxx

“Romanoff, that was amazing. It may even be a new school record,” your gym teacher tells you as you finish running the mile.

“Wait what? What was my time?” You’ve never been the fastest kid in class. You probably could be, but you hated running so you never really tried. You normally just keep it to an easy jog, or so you thought as you glance over your shoulder and notice you’ve left Peter in the dust. That shouldn’t have happened.

“5:32. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a high schooler run that fast, what’s your secret?” he asks, leaning closer to you as if you wouldn’t want the class to hear you, but they’re all still trying to finish their run at least a hundred yards behind you.

“It must just be all the training I do with my mom and her team,” you say with a shrug and a fake smile. You don’t train with your mom’s team. This doesn’t make sense.

Over the next few days you have more of what you can only describe as glitches. Random bursts of speed when you run that put you on the opposite side of the room faster than any human should be able to move. Now that you know what to look for you can see the world blur by you as you run. It doesn’t happen all the time and you have no idea how to explain it. People don’t just magically obtain superpowers. In your experience it was usually with the assistance of hydra, and the occasional radioactive spider but you haven’t gotten any bug bites recently and you don’t like the option that leaves you with.

Your memory of life before being adopted is hazy at best, a few flashes of people whose relation to you you can’t place and some doctors offices. A four year old found alone half a mile outside of a recently destroyed hydra base is nothing too suspicious. It was in a crowded community full of individuals who got caught in unfortunate circumstances. It wasn’t rare to find people living on the streets but when Natasha found you all alone she knew she couldn’t just leave you there. It seemed innocent enough at the time, but if you find out you came from within that hydra base? Well they might not see it as a coincidence anymore. Besides in your opinion, you’d be a crappy superhero so it’s better if nobody finds out. Yeah, you’ll just hide it. That’ll work.

xxxxx

It did not work.

Every day that passed you found it harder and harder to keep your secret. It seemed your powers, if you could even call them that, just kept getting stronger. And let’s just say you weren’t getting the hang of them anytime soon.

“Y/n, dinner!” you hear your mom call from down the hall and you jump up from your desk, you’ve been starving recently, maybe it has something to do with the new powers. You run for the kitchen, momentarily forgetting how bad of an idea that is. You see Clint walking in front of you and you panic. The world starts moving in slow motion as you realize you can’t stop. You turn a bit so you’ll miss him, digging your heels into the floor to try and slow down. It isn’t very effective and rather than you stopping yourself, you stop when you slam into Tony’s bookshelf, knocking it and all the books to the floor as you skid across the common room with them.

“Oh my god!” Tony yells, jumping several feet in the air at the noise

“Y/n are you okay?” your mom asks as she quickly makes her way over to you. You pull the books off your chest and sit up, smiling sheepishly at the group of avengers standing in front of you.

“Yeah. I just uh...tripped. Sorry about your books Tony. I’ll clean them up,” you wince as you look at the mess you caused.

“We don’t care about the books-”

“I care about the books!” Tony cuts in and Steve rolls his eyes before continuing.

“We care about you,” he finishes with a pointed look at Tony who nods.

“Oh uh, yeah. We care about you more. But I also like the books…” he trails off quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I’m clumsy,” you say with a shrug, pushing yourself up and stacking the books out of the walkway. Your mom looks at you and you can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, but she lets it go for now.

This isn’t gonna work for much longer.

xxxxx

“Y/n wake up! We have to go!” you wake up to Tony’s screaming and you jolt upright. The first thing you notice is there’s a haze of smoke throughout the room and it’s really warm.

“What’s happening?” you ask, wiping your eyes and trying to make sense of what’s happening.

“There was an explosion in the lab. The fire suppression system is down and the whole place went up, it's spreading and we need to get everyone out now,” he pulls you up from the couch and starts leading you out of the compound. As you’re both hunched under a cloud of smoke you can’t help but think for the hundreth time how stupid the floor plans of this building are. Tony wanted his lab close to the living quarters so he could get there quickly when he got inspiration in the middle of the night. You’ve lost count of how many times his lab accidents have woken you up at 3am and now your room is about to go up in a cloud of smoke.

“Thank God,” you mumble to yourself as you get outside. Glancing around you see Clint, Steve, and Bucky all doubled over on the lawn.

“You guys good?” Clint calls over.

“Yeah, you? Where’s everyone else?” you get nervous seeing less than half of the residents outside.

“Peter’s at home. Wanda, Sam, and Thor are on a mission. Banner’s still out of town, right?” Steve lists off and your blood runs cold.

“Where’s mom?”

“She’s not with you guys?” Bucky asks and you turn to Tony who shakes his head.

“No, I just grabbed the kid and got out. I figured those with military grade training could look out for each other!” Tony yells and you run through your moms schedule. You can hear them arguing about whose responsibility it was to look for her as you realize it’s Wednesday. It’s laundry day meaning she was here, and it’s the afternoon so she’s probably folding it in her room. God, you were ten feet from her and you didn’t notice.

“She’s in her room.”

“Tony suit up and get her!” Clint yells, he sounds almost as desperate as you feel.

“My suit is in the lab, send one of the super soldiers in!” Tony screams back. You can feel the heat from the fire and you don’t even want to think about what it’s like inside the building right now.

“We don’t have time for this! I’ll go,” you step forward but Bucky grabs your arm.

“We’re not letting you go in there. You’ll die!” He yells and you rip your arm out of his grasp.

“If I don’t my mom dies!” With that you take off, at a normal speed at first, but quickly speeding up until you’re a blur. You stumble a few times, running into walls and fallen support beams scattered through the walkway. You haven’t quite got the hang of this yet. Every time you hit something you can feel your clothes start to burn and char, the heat making it all the way down to your skin. You ignore the pain and keep running, you need to get to your mom. After a few more mishaps and no more than three seconds you’ve made it to your moms bedroom. When you look around you see her coughing and trying to pull a fallen dresser off her leg, but she can’t quite get the leverage. Her eyes widen when she sees you.

“What are you doing? Get out of here!” she yells, desperate to keep you safe.

“I’m here to help, push on three,” you tell her, grabbing the dresser and counting down. After struggling for a few seconds you get it off of her. “Is your leg okay?”

“I’m fine, you need to go. I’ll catch up, just run,” she tells you as you help her up but you’re not leaving her.

“This is gonna be really weird, I’ll explain it later. I’m gonna pick you up,” you wrap her arm around your shoulder and reach down to lift her.

“What’s going on. What are you-” you cut her off.

“Mom! Just trust me. And you might want to close your eyes.” you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath before taking off. There’s so much adrenaline surging through you you barely feel like you’re trying. Despite the seeming lack of effort on your part you weave your way out of the building quickly, stumbling towards the assembled group and setting your mom down.

“What the hell just happened?” Tony is the first to break the silence and you cough a few times, trying to get in a breath that no longer wants to enter your lungs.

“Is-is everyone out?” you stutter out. Your vision is starting to tunnel and you're not sure why.

“Yes. Everyone is out. Now tell us what the hell is going on!” To anyone else your mom may sound mad, but you recognize that tone of voice. She’s worried. You want to reassure her but standing is getting harder by the second.

“I’m really fast,” is all you manage to get out before your knees buckle and your vision goes dark.

xxxxx

“You couldn’t have picked another part of the compound to destroy? Our med wing is a lot comfier,” you say as you’re opening your eyes, you can hear Tony whispering to someone so you know he’ll hear you.

“So sorry to inconvenience you, your highness,” he teases back and you smile, pushing yourself and surveying the room of worried gazes.

“By the looks on your faces I’m going to assume my secret’s out?” you ask and they all nod, varying degrees of annoyance, anger, and concern appearing as you try to lighten the mood. “Great. What’s the damage?”

“You have some burns that are healing way faster than they should. You were pretty malnourished. We think whatever your powers are make you require more food. How long have you known?” your mom asks and you look at your hands. She has her face set in an emotionless mask and even after all these years you can’t tell what that look means, and that worries you.

“A month or so,” you tell her and she sighs.

“What’s the first time you remember something happening?” Bruce’s voice is gentle, ever the calm one in the storm and you replay the memories of appearing in different places in your head, trying to remember the first one.

“Five weeks ago. I was late for school and running down the hall and it was like a glitch. I blinked and I was on the opposite end. I just brushed it off as being tired or something,” you explain with a shrug.

“When you crushed everyone in the mile, that was this? Coach has been trying to get us to explain your training routine for weeks. I guess we’ll have to tell him it won’t help,” Peter says and you chuckle.

“I don’t train. Especially after I found this. Running has had some...unfortunate consequences.”

“You mean besides you being in this hospital bed?” your mom asks cooly and you wince.

“I don’t think I’d call saving your life an unfortunate consequence but to each their own I guess. I kinda meant running into book shelves and seeing everything move in slow motion. It’s pretty disorienting,” you explain softly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Wanda’s voice is gentle. She can feel the stress coming from you and she desperately wants to calm you down.

“How would I even start that conversation? ‘Hey guys remember that random rescue mission where you picked up a civilian? Turns out it wasn’t a civilian. Please don’t arrest me. I swear I’m not trying to infiltrate the top secret government organization you all work for, I was just created in a lab by your enemy whose sole purpose is to destroy you by any means necessary. Haha so fun, anyway what’s for dinner?’ That didn’t seem too appealing.”

“What did you think we were gonna do? We know you y/n,” Steve says and your head snaps up.

“No you don’t! None of us know anything about me anymore! What we do know is what hydra is capable of! Who knows what kind of shit they did. For all I know I have a fail safe set up in my brain to make me do their bidding at the drop of a hat! They’re your greatest enemy, and I’m just some kid you found in an alley. There’s really only one choice here,” you start off yelling but by the end your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re right. There is only one choice,” your mom speaks up for the first time in a while and you feel tears collecting in your eyes. “We start running tests. We see what they did to you and we find out if we can reverse it. We find out if you even want to reverse it and then we go from there. Either way you’re not alone. We’ve got you, no matter what.”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth you’re throwing yourself into her arms and holding on for dear life. It feels like the weight of the world has just been lifted off of your shoulders and for the first time in weeks you can finally breathe.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff

[daichisbabygirl]

You Belong With Me: “The Truth Spills Out” (Part 1)

Helloooo!! I’m back again with another installment of YBWM hehe 

Author’s note: Just so that there’s no confusion, this one takes place a couple months after the prologue! 

Warnings: A little swearing tbh but it’s very light 

Pairings: Eventual Kuroo x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2K 

Genre: angst :   )

Series Summary: Your “relationship” with the captain of the Nekoma High volleyball team is, for lack of a better word of explaining it, complicated. However, when Kenma decides that he can no longer bite his lip and watch his two dumbass best friends mess up, fate changes for you and Kuroo Tetsurō.

Part Summary: Who knew that things could get even more complicated? 

Previous      Next 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“She’s just…UGH!” Kuroo runs his hands through his hair, head thrown back in frustration at his girlfriend. “She’s just so confusing sometimes!”

You and Kenma sit on the floor of his room, watching your mutual best friend pace back and forth while he explains what occurred earlier that day. The raven-haired boy had called an emergency meeting after having yet another fight with his on-and-off girlfriend, Mai. 

You sigh, leaning your head on Kenma’s shoulder. The boy scoots closer, silently adjusting himself to make sure that you’re comfortable. He knew you were exhausted from hearing about Kuroo and Mai’s fights. Hell, he would be too if he had to constantly hear about his crush fighting with their significant other. 

Kenma had to give it to you. Despite your feelings for Kuroo and your hatred for his girlfriend, you listened to him talk about all of his problems with Mai. You were an extremely supportive friend, going as far as to sacrifice your own feelings just to make Kuroo happy. He still thought it was stupid that you were hurting yourself, but what else were you supposed to do? Even if it hurt to hear Tetsu talk about his girlfriend all the time, you cared too much for Kuroo to ever abandon him. Instead, you bottled up your feelings and gave your friend the support he needed, no matter how drained you were from pretending not to like him. 

“Chibi chan,” You open your eyes to find Kuroo crouching in front of you and staring at your tired face. “Are you even listening to me?” You yawn and stretch your limbs, trying to wake yourself up enough to listen to your friend. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just exhausted.” 

Suddenly, he felt a little guilty that he called this meeting so late. He knew how busy you were with managing the volleyball team and everything else, but all he wanted to do right now was talk to you. Mai had really gotten on his nerves today, and, as always, it lead to another stupid fight. He was so frustrated afterwards that he ended up grabbing you from your house—even though it was late—and dragging you to Kenma’s just to talk about it. 

“It’s okay.” He sighs, standing up to move towards the bedroom door. “It’s getting late anyway. We should get going-”

“Oh,” Kenma pipes up. “Actually, Y/N is sleeping over.” 

Kuroo turns around, eyebrows furrowed as he silently looks between you and Kenma, eyeing the two of you. Why did that suddenly make him feel jealous? The thought of you sleeping over at Kenma’s actually made him uneasy, and not because you were hanging out without him. No, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he felt that way.

“Do you want to stay?” Kenma asks, shaking Kuroo out of his thoughts. 

“Uh..sure. If I’m not intruding or something.” He cringed at how irritated he sounded. It’s not like he meant to sound annoyed, he just was for some reason. Shouldn’t he be happy that his two best friends were getting along so well? If you did have feelings for one another, he should be supporting you, not rooting for your downfall. He shakes his head, deciding that he was just being jealous because his relationship wasn’t going so well.  

You lift your head off of Kenma’s shoulders and look up at him. “Hmm?” You sounded tired. Your voice was quiet and your eyelids were growing heavier by the second, but Kuroo’s sudden suggestion that he was intruding on something woke you up slightly. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Uh..I-..nothing.” Kuroo exhales and moves to sit down on Kenma’s bed. “Let’s just go to sleep. You look like you’re gonna pass out.” 

Not wanting to argue any longer, you nod your head and plop yourself in the middle of the bed. “Let’s all sleep here tonight.” You mumble, patting either side of you. Kuroo chooses to sit on the side closest to the wall, while Kenma takes the spot closest to the TV. Neither of them were tired enough to go to sleep, but they knew that it was a waste of time arguing against your demands. “Goodnight, you scoundrels. I love you.” Yawning, you pat each boy on the head before scooting down and placing your head on the pillow.  

Kuroo felt his face grow red, which thankfully, was not seen by either of his best friends. What was the matter with him? It wasn’t the first time he’d heard you say you loved him, but somehow, this one felt different. This one gave him butterflies. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t heard it from you in so long, he thought, or maybe it was just giving him butterflies because Mai hadn’t even said it to him. He chalks it up to the second option and tries to push his thoughts aside.

The slight sound of your snores fill the room, drawing Kuroo’s attention towards your sleeping figure. He shakes his head and smiles. It had only been a few minutes, but you were already fast asleep. He chuckles quietly and carefully pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure to check if you were really asleep before letting the faint light from his phone illuminate the room. He had several missed texts, all of them from the coach and the team and none of them from Mai. He rolls his eyes in annoyance and decides to scroll through his Instagram. If she was going to ignore him, then he would ignore her right back. 

Frowning, Kenma watches as his friend mindlessly scrolls through his feed. Today’s emergency meeting was the third one just this week alone, and he was quite tired of having to hear about his friend’s struggling relationship. He never liked Mai, but he especially didn’t like her now, not when he knew that you were a much better match for the dumbass he called a best friend. Honestly, he was annoyed that Kuroo was too blind to see the person right in front of him, and he was annoyed that you were refusing to speak up. Still, he understood where you were coming from. You didn’t want to lose your best friend, and that was valid, except Kenma knew that Kuroo liked you back. He could see it in the way he looked at you and the way he would talk about you when you weren’t around. His best friend, on the other hand, was either blind, stupid, or refusing to acknowledge his feelings for you. Either way, the setter had had enough of the whole situation.

Kenma clenches his teeth and turns towards his friend. “Kuroo,” he says, harshly. “Meet me in the kitchen.” 

He doesn’t bother waiting for his friend’s response, and instead, gets up to walk to the kitchen. He knew that what he was about to do was wrong. He should wait for you to say something, to confess your true feelings, but he just couldn’t watch anymore. You were hurting yourself trying to pretend that your feelings didn’t exist, and if you weren’t going to say something, then he was. 

Tetsurō’s eyes widen in surprise at the sharp tone in his friend’s voice. “Uh..sure,” he whispers in reply, which was useless now that Kenma had already exited the room. Careful not to move you, he gets up from the bed and follows his friend down the hall and into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kenma turns around suddenly, his golden eyes glowing with anger as he looks at his friend. “Do you even know what you’re doing? Do you know how much you’re hurting her?” 

“Wh-What?” Kuroo stutters. He was shocked at the sudden outburst from his friend, who was usually always calm. “What do you mean? Who, Mai? How am I hurting her?“

Kenma scoffs. “Don’t act like you don’t know, Kuroo. Do you know how much it hurts Y/N to see you like this? To see you run back to Mai over and over again?” 

“Kenma, listen-“ Kuroo starts. 

“No, you listen.” Kenma cuts him off, talking through gritted teeth. “This is for your own good, too. You keep running back to Mai even though you know damn well that it’s not working out between the two of you. Then when it doesn’t work out you pull me and Y/N into it and you know what? She may have the patience to see you make the same mistake over and over again, but I don’t. Maybe I’m just not as good of a friend as she is, but I can’t stand by quietly and watch you ruin your life.” 

“What?” Kuroo spits out. “Ruin my life? How do you know what’s good for me and what’s not?Kenma, you’re my friend, but you have no business telling me what I should and shouldn’t do in my relationship. Mai’s the only person whose cared for me like this-“ 

“Except she’s not, Kuroo!”  

You turn over in your sleep, eyes slowly opening as you notice that there’s nobody in bed with you. The sound of the boys yelling right outside of the room fills your ears, and carefully, you get up and tiptoe towards the door. 

“You know damn well she’s not the only one!” Kenma’s booming voice surprises you, your eyebrows raising in shock.  

You’d only heard him yell like this once before, during an argument in which he scolded you for not caring enough about your feelings for Kuroo. You remembered how angry he was when you told him that you didn’t want to confess to the messy-haired boy you’d been pining after for years. However, when you finally broke down in tears trying to explain to him that you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, the setter apologized and engulfed you in one of his rare hugs. 

Curious about what they’re arguing about, you move closer to the door to listen. Peeking your head out of the door slightly, you take in the sight in front of you. Kuroo stands looming over Kenma, but the shorter boy stands tall under his intense gaze, his face strewn in an expression of anger. You gulp. Frozen to your spot as you debate whether or not to stop them, you suddenly hear your name slip from Kenma’s mouth. 

“Can’t you see how much Y/N loves you?” Kenma roared, reaching up to grab the collar of his best friend’s shirt. 

Your eyes widen in surprise as you let out a small gasp. They were arguing about you. Guilt courses through your body and you move to the middle of the doorway, neither boy noticing that you’re standing there listening to them. 

“What the fuck are you talking about dude?” Kuroo pushes Kenma back, but the smaller boy tightens his grip. You cringe. This isn’t what you envisioned when you often daydreamed about finally confessing to your best friend. 

“Y/N, Kuroo!” Kenma replies. “We’re talking about Y/N! She loves-“

“Kenma…” You speak up, finally finding your voice.

The boys turn to face you quickly, both of them surprised to see you standing in the doorway. Kenma’s grip around his friend’s collar softens and he eventually drops his hands to his sides.

“Y-Y/N,” Kenma stutters. “I-…I-I’m so sorry. I just…I just couldn’t watch anymore.” 

“Wait, what?” Kuroo piped up, looking at you. You struggle to meet his eyes as pools of tears start to form in your own. 

“Kuroo, I-” You struggle to form any words; Your voice was barely a whisper now.

“No.” You look up to see your friend raising his hand to stop you. “No. I-..I’m leaving.” He moves to grab his jacket from the side of the door and slips on his shoes. 

“Kuroo, wait!” You yell after him, but he doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t stop to look at you. No, he slams the door, breaking your heart in the process. 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Taglist (open! please just send me a message under this post): @mkkhaikyuu​ @kurooloves @curiouslilbeast @approved-by-dentists @kageyamakock @babyoomi @kuroosluv @matrix010

[mirrinbelde-shitposts]

Heyyy!

Here fr d game!

Umm im guessing ur an pisces mercury*hehe jst types wht comes to mind at 1st

Also i wont mind if u post it publicly or send me privately

Here is my birthchart(tropical)

Lawl SUSPENSE..Hehe

Anw Have a great day/night ahead🤍🥂

Guessing was fun tho..evn if i guessed wrng one💀🤣

Hey!! You did guess wrong, sorry about that xd but it's oki, don't worry about it! Have a good day too ^^

Welcome to your reading. Please remember to send feedback.

First impressions when looking at your chart: you don't have a lot of aspects, but a lot of them are exact: that wedge patter between Saturn, Venus and Mercury is very exact; you have an even distribution of planets among the signs and the houses; also, the angles (except IC) all conjunct planets or points

SUN IN AQUARIUS

As an Aquarius, you are quirky, aloof, dreamy and humanist. People may think you're awkward and detached, which is probably true for you since your Sun is at 0º of Aquarius. Your originality and uniqueness are probably the things you love about yourself the most. Your mind is also quite agile, which allows you to fulfil your dreams. Nevertheless, we cannot ignore the fact that the Sun is in Detriment in the sign of Aquarius. This means that the Sun can struggle here, making you feel confused as to who you are and how you can express yourself. You very much value your independence and your rebelliousness. However, you can be stubborn to a fault when it comes to your thoughts and opinions.

SUN IN THE 7TH HOUSE

The Sun in the house of Libra shows that you really enjoy socializing and that's also where you shine the most brightly. The Venusian influence gives you charm and elegance, which cause people to flock to you. Also, you may show your true colours in relationships, particularly romantic ones. Having someone close to you will allow you to achieve a better understanding of yourself. You do well when it comes to working with others; this placement helps the detached, independent Aquarius Sun to be more sociable and better appreciate others. Also, the Venus influence can make people look up to you and see themselves in you, something that doesn't really happen with Aquarius Suns in generally. You may do well in associations or organizations because you have a need to be in society.

MOON IN CAPRICORN

Once again, you have a planet in Detriment. Capricorn, the sign of Saturn, struggles to feel and voice the emotions they experience. Therefore, it is natural that the Moon finds this sign difficult. You think too much. Perhaps you had a complicated relationship with your mother, which may have caused you to repress your emotions. Capricorn placements, in general, tend to grow up and mature quite early, which leads to unhealthy coping mechanisms; you had to raise your walls up high, so you struggle to let anyone in. You may also be socially awkward. At the same time, you may seek validation from society, which is one of the things that may give you that emotional security that you deeply seek. You should work on letting your guard down; emotions are not the enemy, it's okay to feel what you feel. Let out your inner child once in a while.

MOON IN THE 6TH HOUSE

Here, the Moon is in the house of Virgo (but lying almost on top of the Descendant). There is a strong connection between body and mind. You seek emotional safety through your work and other acts of service; you want to be useful to people and to spend your time wisely. You may be a workaholic. Your routines are very important to you; you can get distraught if someone messes with your daily habits. Your health may be a concern to you, but since your Moon is harmoniously aspected, I'd say you're generally healthy. Nevertheless, watch for any hereditary diseases or problems with food or alcohol. The square with Mars suggests to me that you can quickly let out your anxieties. You like discipline, organization and cleanness; you are determined in the pursuit of your goals. You may have a vocation to work directly with people. Your moods may change quickly.

MERCURY IN CAPRICORN

With Mercury in Capricorn, you speak in a very structured, pondered way. You are very analytical and it shows in the way you communicate. You're a realist, but people may think you're more pessimistic. You definitely tend to be pessimistic at times, as well as distrustful and sceptical. You like to research, to gather information before speaking. You're concrete in your thinking, logical and organized. You take your time to make decisions; you weigh all the pros and cons carefully. Probably not the one to daydream or have many fantasies; you prefer the realistic and achievable. Although you're mostly serious, you can be playful sometimes.

MERCURY IN THE 6TH HOUSE

Capricorn Mercury is similar to Mercury in the house of Virgo. You are probably a perfectionist person, determined and organized. You analyse everything, yourself and your emotions included. You're very critical, especially of yourself. You hold everyone to high standards; once again, yourself the most. Like Capricorn Mercury, you can have pessimistic tendencies. You probably repress your feelings and rationalize them instead. Additionally, your knowledge can progress through daily life experiences and through your body. You should practice meditation and mindfulness because your anxiety and stress may have a direct effect on your bodily health.

VENUS IN PISCES

Venus is exalted in Pisces. This sign is intuitive, empathetic and emotional, which are traits that Venus likes. You feel everything and negative energies really get to you, so it's important that you find a partner that gives you emotional stability. You make a good lover, for you are caring and sensitive to people's needs, especially your partner's. Venus here gives you ethereal, alluring vibes. You can seem almost magical to people. You can be very protective of those you love, selfless; you can even sacrifice yourself for them. You're a daydreamer, you live in your own fantasy world. You have great aesthetic taste and you're quite romantic. However, be careful not to be taken advantage of; your too-good nature can land you someone whose intentions are far from the best.

VENUS IN THE 8TH HOUSE

Venus here acquires some Scorpio traits, namely the need to get a deep connection with someone. You are a person of extremes, not of middle-terms. In this sense, you can get effortlessly get people to open up to you, to tell you their deepest, darkest secrets. Since the (H also rules other people's money, you may get rich through an inheritance or a good marriage. Also, people may trust you with their money. In love, too, they aspire to learn everything about their partner. You seek transformative relationships, ones that will allow you to experience a different range of emotions, another dimension, even. Casual relationships are probably not your thing. You can get too controlling and dominating, so beware of that. Also, financial security is important to you; you may even have a job that has directly to do with money.

ARIES MARS

Here, Mars is in its rulership. You are quite reckless and impulsive in your actions. You like to be the first, to be the pioneer (much like Aries is the first sign of the Zodiac). You have a knack for leadership and people tend to be happy to follow your lead. You are quite competitive in just about everything; you can have a sour loser. You are quick to get mad, but after you explode, your anger will be gone in an instant. You are great at achieving goals because Mars helps you to stay motivated and determined; you are quite persistent and usually get what you want. You can also work well under pressure. Laziness is not in your blood. Your independence is quite important to you, as are your opinions. You can be quite stubborn and difficult to argue with, simply due to your relentlessness.

MARS IN THE 9TH HOUSE

Your Mars is in the house of Sagittarius. This placement allows you to acquire the necessary willpower for the journey to the expansion of knowledge and discovery. Your actions should help you with the acquisition of further knowledge, as well as ideas and strengthening your freedom. This placement goes against the need of routine imposed by your 6th house placements; Mars here wants you to get out there, be free, have fun, think about life, yourself and the universe. You have strong morals and philosophical ways. This placement may make you strongly seek, hunt, even, the truth of the fundamental questions. On another note, you can develop an attraction to foreign people and may wish to move away from home swiftly and without hesitation. This can be abroad too.

JUPITER IN VIRGO

Jupiter is in Detriment in Virgo. Whilst Jupiter is all about philosophy, the higher mysteries and expansion, Virgo seeks for the concrete, for what it knows, for the logical and rational. Therefore, this placement requires work. You are sceptical, you need to think and analyse everything before you come to a conclusion. Growth is achieved through responsibilities and being useful to others. A bit of idealism would be good, Jupiter struggles in Earth signs. You may think that you know more than you actually do, that you see the bigger picture when that is not true. Be careful not to grow an ego. Your beliefs will be challenged in this lifetime. You have a desire to help people, and in relationships too you want to do everything in your power to aid your partner.

JUPITER IN THE 2ND HOUSE

This placement generally brings good luck when it comes to money and other worldly possessions. You may also like to spend money, more on your loved ones than on yourself. You may be big into giving gifts. In order to reach that emotional security, you may wish to surround yourself with material items that, to you, hold great value and importance. Once you understand how better to acquire that stability, you may become rather generous with your money. You want a comfortable lifestyle. Like Venus in the 8th house, you may be good at managing your possessions, thus causing others to go to you for financial advice. You may not show it, but you have strong philosophical convictions, which may prove to be impossible to change.

SATURN IN CANCER

Saturn is in Detriment here, which makes it four planets in Detriment in your chart. You may feel a strong need for emotional safety, which could manifest as a fear of abandonment. There may also be some emotional blockages present that you struggle to overcome. Saturn retrograde, being the planet of Karma, may difficult your mission in life. You could be stuck on an unresolved trauma from a past life. This may be represented by a figure of authority in this life, perhaps your father. Instead of attempting to reconcile your past, try to accept the world changing around you. You may be too afraid to venture into the world and to open your heart; accept that it is part of life. Find people that give you that security, but don’t pour out your entire soul to them; find a balance. Not everything can be kept in our hearts, but not everything should be shared, either.

SATURN IN THE 12TH HOUSE

This is quite a strong and powerful placement: you have the planet of karma in the most karmic house. Also, according to Hellenistic Astrology, Saturn has its joy in the 12th house. You may be afraid to mess with the subconscious because your emotions may overtake you. Saturn is related to blockages and yours may be due to paranoia, which is characteristic of Neptune and Pisces. You may repress parts of yourself that you are not happy about, which makes you feel better, but, at the same time, paranoia can set in and make you wonder if that is the right thing to do. That aside, you may also struggle with poor self-esteem and doubts about yourself and life. There can be problems of guilt of some sort, perhaps even related to your life itself. It is very vague, but my thoughts about this placement are, in short, that, from birth, there have been deep traumas within you that have blocked your inner peace. What does are, I do not know. ⬛️

[sparkandwolf]

Without passion, we'd be truly dead (read on ao3)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: General Summary: “You’re not going to make fun of me for this, are you?” Derek asked as his thumb hesitated over the play button on the remote. Stiles shrugged and grabbed the controller, pressing play before Derek could argue.

“I am absolutely going to make fun of you for this, there’s no doubt in my mind.” Derek’s groan was drowned out by a British voice introducing the next episode and Stiles moved his focus to the recap, trying to take in the things he might have missed from not watching the show from the beginning.

For @sterekvalentineweek day six: Passion

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Derek exclaimed as Stiles popped open a bag of Cheetos, barely escaping the puff of powder that breezed out. “Scott and Isaac have both referred to you as the ‘resident nerd’ and you’ve never seen the cult classic that is Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” Derek shook his head and clicked over to one of the streaming services and a very badly edited photo of Sarah Michelle Gellar came into view. 

“I saw the movie! Doesn’t that count for anything?” Stiles asked. By the displeased look on Derek’s face, Stiles figured that it very much, in fact, did not count. “It definitely doesn’t strike me as the kind of show you would be interested in,” Stiles noted, hoping the change in subject would force Derek to stop glaring at him. 

“It wasn’t, at first, but it--” Derek cut himself off and leaned his head back against the back of the couch, taking a breath as if preparing himself to make some big admission. Stiles stayed quiet as Derek rubbed his palms against his thighs. “Laura loved it. She and my mother would watch it every Monday night and Laura had these ridiculous posters on her wall of Buffy and Willow and--” Derek cleared his throat and Stiles could hear the emotion behind it. 

When he said nothing more, Stiles chimed in, “So, are we watching it from the beginning or are you gonna show me your favorites?” Derek turned to Stiles with a grin so wide, it had Stiles’ heart constricting in his chest and his stomach face flushing with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure when he had become able to make Derek smile like that, but he was extremely happy he could. 

“I think you’ll never wanna watch another episode if we start with season one so…” Derek trailed off and clicked through a few episodes, his eyebrows rising and falling and his nose crinkling in decision. Stiles had never seen him look so childish, so innocent, and all he wanted to do was watch this stupid TV show with Derek forever. 

“Find one?” Stiles guessed and Derek turned to him with another wide grin. Derek grabbed the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table, settling in as he nodded at Stiles slowly. 

“If you have questions, you can--”

“I’m gonna ask about a million of them,” Stiles interrupted, taking a noisy bite of his first Cheeto and stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on Derek’s lap. “You’ve gotta have all the answers, though,” Stiles warned, holding a cheesy finger up to Derek’s face. Derek rolled his eyes and smacked it away, Stiles’ laughter filling the air. 

“You’re not going to make fun of me for this, are you?” Derek asked as his thumb hesitated over the play button on the remote. Stiles shrugged and grabbed the controller, pressing play before Derek could argue. 

“I am absolutely going to make fun of you for this, there’s no doubt in my mind.” Derek’s groan was drowned out by a British voice introducing the next episode and Stiles moved his focus to the recap, trying to take in the things he might have missed from not watching the show from the beginning. 

“Passion; it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws, and howl,” Stiles heard the voice of the broody looking guy on TV, but underneath was a shy whisper and when he glanced over at Derek, he threw his hands over his mouth to stifle his giggles. 

“Derek, oh my god,” Stiles choked out through his laughter, placing his snack beside him before it toppled over. 

“What? It’s an iconic quote!” Derek argued. Stiles nodded and tried to be serious - he really tried - but Derek mouthed the next few words as if trying to hold them in and Stiles groaned. 

“Just say them,” Stiles relented as he paused the show, turning to face Derek who was pressing his lips together tightly. 

“You’re going to make fun of me…” Derek said, narrowing his eyes at Stiles. 

“Of course I’m going to make fun of you, but I’m gonna do it whether you say the rest of the quote out loud or not, realistically,” Stiles countered. Derek sighed and pressed play again, his eyes not leaving Stiles’ as the male character started speaking. 

“It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have?” Derek finished as the extraordinarily loud and obnoxious theme music blasted through the speakers. Stiles covered his ears and glared at Derek whose laughter rivaled the shrill of the guitar. 

“If I didn’t know this was a 90’s television show, this music would have completely given it away,” Stiles commented as the sound faded into the show again. 

“Just… keep watching,” Derek demanded, though his voice sounded shy. It was as if he was scared that Stiles wouldn’t like it and that made Stiles fall in love - with the show that is - even more. 

Throughout, Stiles would make comments so that Derek knew he was paying attention. He would shout out, “He killed her fish? Man, that’s so fucked up” and, “That crazy vampire girl talks in riddles like Deaton.” Each time, Derek would nod in response, chuckle, and smile. He would even glance over and make sure Stiles was paying attention if he was quiet for too long. Sometimes, Derek would even chime in with his own comments. 

“There’s something messed up about this teacher, but I mean, that might be some leftover Beacon Hills High School trauma.” 

“You think?” Derek commented with a huff, clearly remembering the weird amount of evil teachers that made their way into Stiles’ classrooms. Derek had always hated them the most as they spent more time around the pack than he was able to. He had never admitted that out loud, but Stiles knew it was true.

“I want Joyce to punch him,” Stiles noted, cheering when Buffy and Willow came into view, chanting words that sounded like something Lydia would say. “Oh my god, did she just devamp the house? I wish I could do that with werewolves,” Stiles teased, holding his arms up in defense when Derek flicked his nose.  

“You can, you idiot, it’s called mountain ash,” Derek retorted, reaching over Stiles to grab a few Cheetos. Stiles pretended not to notice that they were closer than they ever had been. 

When the episode turned more serious than Stiles had expected, he curled into Derek’s side and shoved his cheek into his warm chest. It wasn’t that he was scared, but he didn’t think that Jenny was about to make it out of there alive due to supernatural circumstances and that hit a little too close to home. When Angel broke her neck, Stiles turned his face away as Derek’s hand settled against the back of his head, brushing through the short strands comfortingly. 

There was sadness filling his stomach as the cute British librarian walked up the stairs and the music swelled. When he glanced up at Derek, there was a tear falling down his cheek. Even still, he whispered the words that left Angel’s lips, “Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief.”

They stayed pressed together like that, neither of them making a move to turn away. Stiles listened to the steady beat of Derek’s heart and the way it jumped during more action filled moments. When the too long silence made him jittery, Stiles spoke again, knowing his words would tick Derek off enough to argue. 

“You know, Xander has a point,” Stiles stated after Xander said exactly what he was thinking. Someone should have really murdered Angel before, but Stiles guessed there was something he was missing. 

 “Are you kidding? Buffy is right and Giles is going to get himself killed if he doesn’t think about his act--!” Derek paused a few moments before sighing, “Wait, that is exactly what you would do.” Stiles grinned at him and nodded. 

Stiles loved the easy way they bickered back and forth on the plot Derek seemed to understand down to the most minuscule detail. He loved the way Derek related to the characters, felt for their losses and their grievances. He knew, even after only one episode, why Derek had been so attached to the show. It was beyond a familial memory, that much Stiles was sure of. When Angel’s voice narrated again, Stiles gazed up from where his head had rested on Derek’s lap for the last few minutes. 

Again, Derek whispered the words, “It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace, but we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank.” Derek seemed to tear his eyes away from the show and they met Stiles’ with just as much passion as he was speaking about, and finished, “Without passion, we'd be truly dead."

Stiles thought his heart stopped at the intensity of Derek’s gaze and the softness of his voice and realized that Derek was bearing his soul to Stiles by showing him that bit of his past. He was letting Stiles in, hoping Stiles would take the invitation openly, and asking him to stay. 

“Did you like it?” Derek asked hesitantly as if scared of the answer. 

Stiles pursed his lips and pretended to think about his answer before deciding, “Can we watch it from the beginning?” 

[jamiedc-they-them]

All You Got (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: can i get hope mikaelson x reader where hope helps reader out of a rough time, maybe a depressive episode, B

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

Was the sun shining through? You had no idea. All you knew was that, according to your beeping clock, it was time to get up and go to class. You sighed, just wanting the clock to stop so that you could go back to sleep once again.

Were you pathetic? Yeah, you were. You couldn’t even get out of bed; just lying there and hoping to fall back asleep. You knew that going was a bad idea, with the way you looked and the absolute fact that you hadn’t done the homework that was due, so that would just result in more ridicule.

You felt bad for…. fuck it, you’d forgotten the name. No, that was bad, you can’t just forget a name of someone trying to help you, fucking idiot.

You closed your eyes, hoping to go back to the land of nothing. Maybe it would be kind of ironic. Or maybe it would make everyone forget, that was the truth of it though; you didn’t deserve your family. None of them.

 “Hey, Hope.” Josie greeted, stopping by her friend who was sat on a table, looking at a book. It took a moment for your sister to realise who was there.

She rose her head, seeing Josie and smiled, “Hey, Josie.” She returned the greeting, but immediately went back to the book.  Josie looked at her friend with a puzzled look. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that she was looking at it desperately, looking over spells.

“Studying?” The Saltzman asked.

“Already did the homework,” She held it up for her friend and sister figure to see, “This is for Y/N.” There, now the cat was out of the bag.

`Hope….” Josie was cut off by said girl.

“He – He’s having another episode.” Hope’s voice trembled a little as she spoke. She knew you had been dealing with this for a while, but you were pretty much all she had left; she couldn’t lose you, the answer had to be in here somewhere.

“Hope,” This time, Josie closed the book. Hope looked at her friend with a pissed off expression. Now, if it were any normal circumstance, she wouldn’t even dream of doing what she had just done. But it was you, her best friend that just happened to be the brother of her other best friend. You both were family, so she would do this if the tables were flipped.

“Hope, we need to get him to see Emma.” Josie hated seeing anyone in pain; friends, lovers, crushes, anyone really. You had been out of action for a while; and, while she understood Hope’s worry and sisterly concern, there was a time and place for her to take charge.

“We can’t –” Hope was now the one being cut off.

“Emma can help him, Hope –”

“I can!” Your sister stubbornly argued.

“You can, I’m not saying you can’t. What I’m saying is that there is only so much you can do without someone else stepping in. You don’t Lizzie started those sessions on her own, do you? I helped her get them. He needs them.” Josie was begging at this point for her friend to see facts.

She didn’t, however, “We’ve been through this before, Josie. I know that you guys are here too if we need it, and I am appreciative of that, really. But I know what I’m doing here, ok?” It was almost as if those words were meant to try and trick herself into believing them.

“Hope,” Said girl turned to the teacher, “I need you to talk to your brother as soon as you can, please. He’s been missing out on a lot of classes and essays.

There was rage for the woman. She, rationally, knew that the woman wouldn’t really know unless someone told her. But, still, you were going through something, and the teacher was acting as if it was nothing.

Josie, however, seemed to know that her friend, once crush, now sisterly figure was about to fight back. She put a hand on her shoulder and spoke to the teacher instead of Hope, “We will, thank you.” Her words seemed to satisfy the teacher, as she nodded and then walked away.

“He hasn’t been out of his room?” Hope asked in concern. She could’ve sworn that she had seen you in lessons. Then again, she was hardly awake herself in them, what with saving the world and your friends and all.

“Not in a few days, no. Lizzie and I have been bringing him so food. But…we don’t know if he’s eaten it. It’s gone when we come back, so something with it happens.” Josie said, although in a slow pace, trying to gage the reaction of her friend.

“God. Ok, I’ll go see him –”

“Hope, no! He needs more than that, he needs someone like Emma.”

“Yeah? Look how well that went for me, huh? Miss Nihilism was my name whenever I spoke to her.”

“She didn’t give you that though –”

“Yeah, but she said I always came in with that attitude. I’m not subjecting Y/N to that too. Not when he’s going through this.” Josie went to say something but stopped herself. She knew that this would just end up going in circles, and your recovery was what mattered; even if the pair disagreed on how to make that happen.

“Is the door locked?” Hope questioned.

“I think so, but you both have spares remember?”

“I know. Look, Josie, I appreciate this, but I will make sure Y/N is fine, ok? I promise you.” And, with that, your older sister left to find you.

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

Josie was Hope’s best friend, and with that came a deep level of trust. Both sides knew that the other had their back no matter what and their best interests at heart. But that came with some crossed lines and some things that the other would be mad about.

This was one of those things.

Josie knocked lightly on the door of her father’s office, waiting until she heard the welcoming words before she entered.

“Josie, what’s going on?” The father asked with a smile. However, upon her dejected and uneasy look, the smile dropped, “What’s going on?” He asked.

 “Y/N, it’s me.” Hope didn’t get any response. She knocked again, getting the exact same response. She went to do it again, before she remembered the spare key. She pulled it out of her pocket, looking at the door one more time.

She then put the key into the door and turned it until she heard the click and the bump of the door unlocking. The door then unlocked.

Opening the door, she was met with darkness, other than the very small amount of light from the window. She moved her hand to the light switch, turning it slightly so there was a bit of light, but not a blinding amount.

That was an adjustment to your room that Lizzie had asked for, which she knew that you both appreciated. As much as she could snap at you guys, you were her friends. With the way Alaric treated you both and all you had gone through as a group; you were basically family.

Hope was silent in her entry of the room; she saw your figure still in bed. Your room was a mess, but that was understandable.

She was silent as she picked up one of your fallen trousers, folding them up and then putting them back in the correct draw. She was silent as she picked up a shirt and shook to try and get rid of some of the creases, before hanging it up in the wardrobe.

She put your shoes back against the wall and continued folding the clothes and putting them away. The whole time you didn’t react, you didn’t talk. However, it didn’t matter to her, she knew how to help you. She knew that talking would help but trying to force it with pointless questions would do no good.

She cleaned the table, just a simple wet cloth did the job. She knew that spells wouldn’t fix you, so this wouldn’t either.

Plus, the physical effort would help her get tired out and help her when she joined you in the bed. It was a tactic she used to use; share a bed and put a protective arm around you to keep you safe and show you her support.

She wiped it clean, before filling up a glass for you and placing it on the table.

Then she rose the covers and laid in bed next to you; you faced the wall; she faced the ceiling. She smiled a small amount at the scorch mark that still remained, “I remember that. When you were trying to control fireballs, as you called them. You remember that?” Her voice was light and soft, airy even.

It as one she didn’t use a lot, most of the time there was some kind of sarcastic wit or even malice to it. She only reserved this tone for those she really cared about. You, as her brother, her younger brother, you were on the top of that list.

Plus, she knew one thing from Emma, raising your voice was not a great idea when trying to help.

“Hm.” Was your response. It wasn’t much; it wasn’t anything, but you were slightly engaging rather than not at all. That was something.

“I’ve…. I’ve got the homework for the class done; I can help you with it if you want?” She offered, trying to find something to show her support without going down the bad choices; namely the why and the I know what you’re going through.

“Like everything else in my fucking life?” You were still monotone, but the words had some spite to them.

“What do you mean?” She asked, thinking that this would be a time to vent.

“Ever since Klaus came home with me, covered in my blood parents’…. well, you can guess, you said that you wanted to help and protect me. Anytime I needed homework done, there you were. Anytime I got picked on, you kicked their ass.”

“You don’t think I should’ve, I’m always going to look out for you, little brother.” She had meant the words; they had come out passionately and on instinct.

“It’s not about whether you should it or not, it’s about whether I deserve the help.”

 “I just…I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Josie had been venting, worried sick about if this was even the correct decision to make. She knew, that maybe in the long run it would be a net positive, but would the negatives of right now be too much?

“Josie, honey,” She looked to her father, whose face had softened at her anxious face, “You’re one of the most caring people I know. And, I’m not just saying that as your father. You’re proving it by being here and talking to me about this –”

“But what if Hope is –”

“Hope might have a reaction at first, but she’ll always do what’s right for Y/N. Just as any of us would and will.” Alaric assured his daughter.

 She had raised her voice once during the words exchanged, it had become a bit heated on her end; she wouldn’t take anyone speaking ill of her family, but hearing you say it about yourself made it worse for her.

“How about we go eat? Or take a walk. We don’t even have to be gone for that long?” She asked, moving off the bed and crouching down to your level. The two of you finally met eyes, she is seeing the dull look in your own gaze.

She held out her hand, keeping her eyes locked with you and hoping that the love and concern she had for you were being communicated through both the dark and her own gaze.

Slowly, your hand went into her own one. She pulled the covers back, slowly helping you up and holding it the whole time as she went to the door.

Opening it, she felt your hand tighten the grip on her own one. She gave it a gentle squeeze back, opening the door at a slower pace, when it fully opened, she led you out.

She had you out, that was something, it was a small amount of progress. She would make good on her promise for only being out for a moment.

“Hope,” You both turned to Josie, whose gaze lost a bit of the conviction in them when she saw you out and about, “Hey, Y/N.” She greeted in a softer tone of voice; you gave a very week smile.

She then turned back to Hope, “I told my dad, he’s making arrangements for –”

“You WHAT?!” She squeezed your hand as a silent apology, “No one else has to know, Josie –”

“They already do know! Everyone does, it’s not a secret of what Y/N is going through. It’s not some curse, Hope. It is an illness, and we just want to help –”

“And I am, like I told you. I’m sorry, Josie, but I’ve got him.” Hope assured, pushing past her friend and bringing you with her. However, she then paused and turned back, “But, I’ll call you if I need you.”

When she turned back, two questions rang in her mind: Did she really have you? And: was she the only one who could help you?

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

She didn’t release the hold on your hand, in fact, she had tightened it a bit as that very question still spun around her head. She was scared of the answer, of the answer that may be a possibility.

The answer of “no”.

Entering the kitchen, she saw that the close was clear. This, for once, was going well. She pulled you in, pulling you out a chair and sitting you in it, “I’m gonna make us a sandwich and get you a drink, I’ll be right back.” She assured you, before going to do just that.  

As she got the plates, she looked back at you. You hadn’t moved, you hadn’t spoken, you looked entirely defeated; you looked sad; you looked like you were done; you looked like you were holding in a lot of pain and not letting it allowed to be seen.

It hurt her, it did, truly. You were her brother, and she as an older sister had always been protective of you, always had been and probably always would be. That was the truth.

However, now it seemed to be a more tragic then loving truth.

 “What did she say?” Lizzie had now joined the discussion, sitting on her father’s desk as the man himself sat in his chair. Josie entered, almost a bit blindsided by the bluntness of the question; the again, it was Lizzie. And this was a Lizzie that was scared for a friend, so Josie knew the questions would only get blunter the more she delayed the answers.

“She said she appreciated it, but still took him to the kitchen. She’s trying.” She said, seemingly defending her friend while also berating her for not fully taking the advice on board.

“Look, Jo,” Lizzie said, approaching her sister and grasping her arms gently, “I get that you want what’s best for the two. I get wanting to help out Y/N before he falls to the dark side and takes Hope with him,” Ok, she did regret the way she phrased, she even stopped and closed her eyes with a sigh, “What I meant, is I don’t want Y/N to spiral and for this to have a knock on effect on Hope.”

“Honey, we understand what you mean,” Alaric said, assuring his other daughter, “We all want what’s best for Y/N. Hope does too, she’s just…. protective.”

“She’s stupid, Y/N needs to see someone, just like I have to. It’s not the best, speaking your darkest thoughts to a stranger, sure. But it’s better than our minds fully ruining us. It’s got us screwed up –”

“You aren’t screwed up, sweetheart.” The father was slightly hurt by the words coming from his daughter about both herself and you.

“We are dad. But…. we’re trying. I just don’t think Hope fully knows how hard we are trying.”

 Hope put the plate in front of you, leaning on the other side of the counter, watching you intently as you, “Just a bit of it will do. You need to eat something.” She said, trying to hide the slight quiver in her voice.

You looked at it again, before looking at her, you seemed to do a slight eye roll (not putting in the effort for the whole thing) but it got the point across. You picked it up, taking a small bit, before swallowing it.

She smiled timidly; it was something. It was better than you either skipping out on those meals Josie and Lizzie had left or eating too much.

“You know Josie and Lizzie left stuff?” She asked you, trying to start a kind of dialogue with you. To be honest, it was something she had missed with you, the way you both could seem to just talk for hours about the absolute square root of jack shit.

You nodded, taking yet another bite out of your sandwich, “You know when you threw yourself into the pit, I thought I was the only weirdo here, right?”

The words were sharp, and they did sting, “I thought, “Shit, I’m the heir to the Mikaelson throne, and I’m sat here being a fucking bitch.” And then you showed back up, my sister who was apparently the actual blood daughter of my – our, parents. I mean, shit, how could I ever top that, huh? The blood daughter of Klaus Mikaelson,” You gave a sarcastic clap, “Hero to us all, saviour of us all. How in the ever-living fuck, could I ever amount to that legacy?”

You got up, leaving the sandwich, and storming over to your sister, “You know what? I am done. You want the burden off your shoulders? Consider it removed. I’m done with the fucking looks; I’m done with the pity glances whenever we’re going anywhere together. I am done and I am tired of you constantly chasing my useless ass around and pretending to give half a shit. I’m done.” You spat, storming past her, but she heard the sob that left you as you went.

 She couldn’t fight the tears anymore, her sob was silent, but the tears still ran down her face as she put a hand to her mouth to try and contain it all. She slowly slipped down to a sitting position on the floor, back pressed against the table as she silently cried. She had lost you; you were probably going to revoke your own name and leave and never be heard from again. You were –

“Hey,” She turned to see Josie. The girl sat next to her, “Y/N’s talking to my dad and Lizzie, he’s wanting to leave,” Josie knew that these words wouldn’t help, but she knew that Hope would still want an update.

“I just wanted to help him,” The -now maybe- single Mikaelson sobbed. Josie put her arms around the girl and hugged her, Hope putting her arms on the girl’s arm, “I just thought – maybe I could help him through this like I have before.” She hiccupped a few times but got the words out.

“Lizzie’s talking to him, I came here to check on you…. I think you both need someone to talk to. Not just a friend, but I think you both need Emma –” Hope was quick to interrupt.

“I’m not talking to her again, not after how I snapped at her last time. Y/N wouldn’t fair good there either.”

“You know she didn’t take it personally, right? Yes, it’s her job to listen, but she also cares, Hope.”

“…. I know. I just don’t want Y/N to think I’m not trying to help him.” Hope admitted, a rare moment of full on vulnerability.

“He knows you do, Hope. He knows, and he appreciates it so much. It’s just –”

“There’s a time for me or you guys to help, and a time for someone with more knowledge to help?” Hope filled in for her friend.

“Exactly. Do you wanna see him?” Josie asked tentatively.

Hope thought about it, before she nodded.  

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

She took a breath, one that was admittedly shaky. She felt a hand grasp hers, turning, she saw that it was Josie.

Josie gave her friend a supportive smile, a silent, “you’ve got this”.

Armed with that bit of wisdom, she opened the door. Any conversation in the room that was going on had stopped as the three in the room had stopped and looked at the newcomers. Hope’s eyes had met yours, and she saw the red rims that indicated the tears, but you looked to be a bit more stable now.

There was silence for a moment, with Lizzie looking between you both. With the way she was sat, on the desk with her whole body facing you, it was clear you two had had a talk. She was glad, glad that you had opened up to someone.

“I think we could both use a talk with Emma.” Hope knew when to be laxer, then when to be firmer and blunter with you; this was one of those times.

You seemed to soak the words in, before nodding, “Maybe we do.”

 So, that was how you and Hope and ended up with scheduled sessions with Emma. One at a time, of course. As you both were aware about how the other would be with how dark some of the thoughts would go.

You stared at the door, knowing that you were a few minutes late, you raised a hand to the door, knuckles hitting the wood three times to announce your presence.

“Come in, Y/N.” The voice of Emma told you, a voice that held no malice.

You opened the door, seeing her bright and welcoming smile when you got into the room enough, “Hi, sorry for – uh, for being late.” You said, dropping eye contact and looking to the floor instead as you gave a smile, but it wasn’t a happy one.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You’ve made it, that’s what matters in the end.” She assured you in a soft tone. You just nodded; it didn’t exactly alleviate you of your guilt.

Still, you sat in the chair, looking at her with an anxious smile, “So, how have you been doing?” She asked you.

“I…. not really that much better.” You were honest, you had to be. You felt like you could be around her.

“Ok, do you mind telling me, why?”

“Just…. I snapped at Hope the other day about giving up my last name, about a legacy that I have. And I know she has it too, but –”

“It’s a weight on your shoulders as well, Y/N. From your perspective, she had just appeared in your life. Granted, you do now remember, but you didn’t before. It’s disorienting –”

“It’s hell. To know I had a sister out there this whole time. I remember my parents, I remembered how they died. And….it wasn’t for me; it was for Hope.”

“It was for the both of you. Hope may have been the one with the Hollow, but you were their son, just as much as Hope was their daughter. Parents, good parents, care for both of their kin. And, from what I know, they did for you both. Hope has a feeling that she needs to look after you, being the closest Mikaelson to you now, but you feel that too –”

“We’re all we have.”

“But you aren’t alone. You have us, Y/N.”

 Those meetings would go on, with you and Hope meeting up after and meeting your friends. It wasn’t an ending, but progress.

That was something.

[ganymedesclock]

          “A dragon! A dragon in the castle!”

          As if it weren’t awful news, every gossip in town flocked to the well, chattering like so many birds before a tray of seeds.

          “I heard it was a kitchen fire-”

          “A kitchen fire up the royal tower? I pick berries up by the castle, that’s nowhere near the kitchens-”

          “Daft girl, I thought I told you to leave that be! You remember what happened to the old millet picker!”

          “The queen’s not going to cut my hands off over an apron full of blackberries, now, is she? They all fall to the ground, anyway, nobody minds them- sorry, what were you saying, Anna, about the dragon?”

          Anna bobbed her head eagerly, pigtails flying half out of her cap. “Edie saw it. She was emptying the chamber pots, and looked up away from the smell, and there it was- big as a tree and white like milk, swept right over the castle and out to the hills, and next she knew it, half the tower was burning, they had to evacuate the prince and all the lords, the smoke was terrible-”

          And she went on like this, in her squeaky voice, captivating everyone, so neatly and efficiently that they did not notice the washer-woman, whom everyone knew was a half-wit who could barely speak, put down her washing, stand up, and take off into the trees.

--

          Distances for a dragon were not the same as distances for a human, even if the dragon happened to be using small human legs at the time. A human’s senses were, for the most part, bound by two axes; up and down were only of so much relevance to something whose ancestors had disavowed themselves from both trees and the ocean some time ago. Up was generally more important than down, but either way, these things were governed by the ground.

          The average dragon had a lot more opinions about up and down, and Dethel, at this moment, was of the impression that she ought to be going up as fast as possible right now, but unfortunately, when the village was all full of noise because of SOMEONE, going up first required a great deal of forwards. So, forwards she went, pounding her sensible washer-woman shoes over small hills and across gullies and making quite a mess of her only set of clothes that she’d have to mend later, first well, and then badly, and it was really all going to be quite a mess, but finally there was the old stone wall that had meant quite another thing to the people who’d laid it originally, but right now it was just a convenient metric for how much forwards was enough forwards.

          Dethel split her skin, and tossed it to a low tree as if it were a blanket she might have been washing, and took wing. Shedding a skin left the body uncomfortably wet, but the sun was warm and bright, particularly as she crossed over the trees, and it dried her off quickly, back to the burnt and gilded shades of red she was properly. Now, the going was easy, and she was home in a matter of minutes, through the narrow cracks in the rock that had, until very recently, done a lovely job convincing humans that there were absolutely no caves in these mountains. “ESMER!”

          Esmer’s head snaked out, disrupting the curtains about her horns. “I thought you were still out,” she said, in the dreamy tone that was especially prominent when she had no idea she was in trouble.

          “I was out! I was working a perfectly serviceable job and now I’m going to have to contrive some reason I wandered off, all on account of you!”

          The rest of Esmer’s body trotted out to catch up with her head. Esmer was a very beautiful dragon. She was not, as Anna (or Edie) said, white as milk, but the pearly silver of twilight, ever so slightly violet along the ridge of her spine to moonstone colors along her smooth-scaled belly. Dethel was reasonably certain if there was a reason Esmer could be quite so dense, it was because she had been born beautiful enough that it distracted everyone from being mad at her. “Well, that’s fine. You should come, come see my treasure.”

          “Treasure? You raided a castle about treasure?” Dethel followed, incredulous, still spitting mad she reassured herself, but the faintest spark of curious. Also, one had to take initiative catching up with Esmer; Dethel was a perfectly sized dragon, but if there was one way the villagers were right, it was that Esmer was in fact very large. Bounding along to keep up with Esmer’s great, languid strides, she kept up her questions: “We have plenty of nice treasures. More of them than anyone else I know, in fact, because you keep going off like this, and I told you that you should talk to me about this, so we can plan it out-”

          “I remember!” And it was reassuring to see Esmer bob her head in faint sheepishness. “And I know. I didn’t mean to make any sort of trouble.”

          Dethel sighed, long, and hard, but there weren’t any cinders to it. “I know. You never mean to.”

          “And I’ll take responsibility for this, like always. I just… this is different, alright? You really have to come see.”

          “I’m coming. I’m seeing.”

          They moved past the lying room, Esmer making a short hop and Dethel a much longer one to reach the landing up to the observatory. That gave Dethel a bit of pause, internally if not externally; the observatory was Esmer’s most special room, besides the library.

          Maybe it really was something special or different-

          -Dethel snapped that thought up like it was a stray sheep on a cliff’s edge. No, absolutely not, she was being cross with Esmer first. She was not going to forgive her for everything, especially when this could create a horrible amount of trouble for the both of them…

          And, yet, it was hard to be mad at Esmer in the observatory that they had painted together, below the great telescope that had been so much trouble and bartering and arguing to procure, that she had been so delighted that she’d pranced all about the room warbling about the stars-

          -there were reasons aside from beauty, admittedly, that Dethel herself could not always stay mad at Esmer.

          Now, Esmer swept aside, piling her great length in several coils all about a side alcove that she had clearly cleared in a great hurry, shuffling other precious things off to the side to take refuge on other shelves. From this angle, Dethel could not see what was in the little box there, only Esmer’s delighted expression, but she had a bad feeling when she realized that the bottom of the box was curved, and that a moment later Esmer hooked the dewclaw of one wing ever-so-gently over the edge and began rocking it.

          Dethel climbed the shelf, and leaned her head over.

          “This is what you set a castle on fire for.”

          Esmer shushed her hurriedly. “You’ll wake it, it’s sleeping.”

          Dethel looked back at the doughy, squash-faced little mound of thing that would someday be a fully grown human.

          She looked back to Esmer, and lowered her voice accordingly. “This?”

          “Isn’t it lovely?”

          “Esmer-” a pause. Scrutiny. “Are you going broody over a baby human?”

          “It gets lonely here, doesn’t it?”

          “You are. You’re going broody. Blood of the earth, Esmer, you sound like my grandmother.”

          She looked back at the cradle. “What are we even going to feed it?”

          “Yes, yes, it doesn’t have any teeth yet, I checked. I’ll have to stew the meat, to make it soft enough-”

          “It probably can’t even eat meat yet, it’s not like a hatchling.”

          Esmer looked alarmed. “What? No, oh no, it’s- it’s biggish, isn’t it? Look, it’s the size of my claw-”

          “That’s little. Little for a human.” Dethel sniffed it, and the creature squirmed in its sleep. “Might be brand new. I’d say a month or so.”

          “What- but- how could they-” Esmer swallowed. “Dethel, you don’t understand, it was crying and crying- the room was cold! Cold enough for me to feel it, and they just left it there and locked the door!” Her eyes were wide and frantic.

          Dethel looked closer, and realized that the baby was not, in fact, swaddled in a blanket, but in one of Esmer’s tapestries. “We’re going to have to fix that,” she said, more making the note for herself than anything, “it needs proper bedclothes. And something to wrap its bottom in, before it poops.”

          Esmer blinked. “It’ll tell us, won’t it?”

          Dethel laughed until Esmer shushed her, and the infant shifted and squalled. “It won’t know it has to go until it’s gone, Es! Humans are completely useless for at least a year. We’ll have to get milk to feed it, and something to put the coals in to keep it warm, because it can’t touch those, and something to wrap its bottom, and a lot of those, because it’ll keep going whenever it needs to wherever it is right then-”

          She didn’t expect any of that would actually stop Esmer, but rather, Esmer’s resolve seemed to strengthen. “Alright. I can do that. We can do that. Better than leaving it there.”

          There was something behind Esmer’s eyes that Dethel had seen before, and that betrayed a truth worse than she had been expecting: this was not, in fact, a flight of fancy about a pretty trinket.

          Then the shadow was gone, and Esmer peered at her warily. “Er- what… kind of milk, do little humans need? Does it have to be human milk, or could we find a goat, or-”

          At that precise moment, the baby pooped, and, as that woke it up, began crying.

          It was going to be a very long year.

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Salvation (Captain Phasma x Reader)

Request: Can I request a post Last Jedi Captain Phasma x Jedi!reader imagine where the reader finds Phasma and saves her bringing her the new resistance base to heal her. Eventually Phasma begins to trust the reader opening up as they fall for each other with the trio being very supportive. She fully joins the resistance becoming a captain once again but fighting alongside her Jedi S/O? By anon

Words: 1,672

A/N: I'm only half proud of this, the request was truly awesome and I feel like I couldn't make it justice, also sorry for the delay. Anyways, I hope you like it!

The explosion came outta nowhere, it hitted the dreadnought stronger than any blaster could have, sending you straight to the floor for Maker knows how long.

When you finally recovered consciousness you found yourself surrounded by debris and flames. This plan just had became more complicated than expected, first you got separated from Finn and Rose, now this.

You had to leave the ship as soon as possible before it turned into a giant mess of metal pieces. Before it was too late.

Looking around you saw a few broken TIE-fighters that wouldn’t help you much so you kept looking, walking towards the other side of the big now destroyed angar and finally you spotted a transborder.

A few meters away from the ship you heard someone softly groaning in pain, fearing it would be one of your friends you decided to take a look into the pile of debris. The closer you were the more clear you heard the pain in her voice while a bunch of curses left her mouth, the closer you got you realized you didn’t know whose voice was it but it was the voice of a woman slightly modulated voice.

Then you saw her shiny armor, a chromium stormtrooper armor you recognized in an instant which made you ignite your lightsaber just in case, its green light illuminating the broken visor of her face that allowed to see a small fraction of her face. Captain Phasma.

“Oh, it’s just you.” you murmured looking down at her struggling to even move. “Where are my friends?” you asked, she didn't answer. "Tell me!"

"I don't know!" She groaned. You observed her for a moment, she seemed to be telling the truth and you couldn't sense your friends so you assumed they left the ship, you hoped they did.

Turning off your lightsaber you started to walk away the big pile of ruins letting the big woman behind you.

"Wait! The whole ship's going to blow up." You heard Phasma barely screaming "You can't leave me here!"

You stopped looking over your shoulder to find her deep blue eye begging you to help her.

"Please, don’t leave me here." She pleaded, you met her gaze for a moment and even though you could barely see her face her eye expressed pure honesty and you couldn't help but feel compassion for her, it was on your nature and in your training as a Jedi to have compassion for all living beings, even for those who you called enemies. “Please” she murmured.

You sighed before turning back to Phasma. “Don’t make me regret this” you cautioned already moving some big pieces of metal that kept her trapped. Then you helped her get up, she seemed weak and heavily injured though you wasn’t sure how much, but that heavy armor saved her from the big fall.

With all your strength you walked with the Captain of the stormtroopers by your side, her tall figure leaned on you body, she was barely able to walk but had the determination of a survivor and even though she was cursing and groaning in pain she never stopped until you reached the ship, where she finally felt uncusion, exhausted and weak.

You piloted the ship, heading to the new Resistance base.

******

“You brought her here!?” Phasma heard a few voices in the distance as she slowly recovered consciousness. They seemed distant and somehow familiar but she was too asleep to recognized them.

“What you wanted me to do? Leave her there to die?” you added calmly leaning in the wall outside the infirmary.

“Yes, yes exactly that.” Finn said, he was absolutely not happy to have Phasma in the Resistance base “She deserves it. You have an idea of the cruel things she’ve done. She’s the stormtrooper.”

“And so you were, Finn.” you told him “But we let you join us because you realized you were in the wrong side, so she can. You more than anyone should know people can change for good.”

“Not her.” he shook his head “You don’t know her, Phasma is a lost cause and I’m sure she will call the First Order if you give her a chance.”

“He’s right.” intervened Poe “We can’t trust her.”

“She can be useful” Rey added disconcerting the boys.

You turned to see the only one in the small group that was still quiet, meeting her gaze you knew she had an idea.

“We need to be ahead of them, if someone knows the next move of the First Order it’s Phasma.” Rey continued. Finn seemed annoyed, not satisfied with the words of his friend. “Tell me I’m wrong.” she told him.

He sighed. “You’re right, Rey. Even though I don’t like it… she could be useful.”

"I have a bad feeling about this" Finn said.

Meanwhile they kept arguing for a little longer about what would happen to Phasma, the Captain recovered completely her consciousness and finally recognized the voices outside the unfamiliar place.

‘FN-2187… and the jedi’ she thought and it was confirmed when you walked into the room.

“I see you’re already healing” you said watching the Captain scanning the room with her blue stare. “You were lucky you had that armor on, it protected you well. Just a few injuries but you’ll be fine.”

Phasma’s eyes travel from the room to her body, defenseless without her chromium armor, weak and injured and then she met your gaze from the first time since she was here and she found serenity in your eyes.

“Why am I here and not in a cell?” were her first words.

“Because you have to heal” you told her “And because we don’t have a cell” you joked but she didn’t laugh.

“If your plan is get information from me you can forget it.” she said immediately after you figuring out the fraction of the conversation she heard. “I won’t tell you anything, Jedi.”

“Don’t call me that, I have a name” you told her. “I’m Y/N, and we’ll see. I have a feeling you’re gonna like it here”.

Phasma growled in response, shifting uncomfortably in the very small mattress.

It took some time for her to get used to being there, it took her even longer to learn how to trust in you. At the beginning she was angry, very angry, threatening you how she would destroy not only you but the whole Resistance. You tried to be patient with her, you knew she only needed time and so time you gave her.

As her wounds were slowly healing you were there every day to make sure they were healing well, nobody had ever cared for her injuries before, it the First Order everything was different, cold, lonely and Phasma learned that it was better to be on her own. The Resistance on the other hand they treated each other like a family, she observed the way you and your friends were always looking up for one another, she had never had something like that and yet there you were sitting on the floor next to her, it made her feel a strange warm sensation growing inside her, maybe she did wanted to be there.

Phasma never realized when or why she fell for you, maybe it was for the way your presence calmed her down or that she could speak freely with you, she trusted you enough to mentined her past in the hostile planet Parnassos and you told her about your early training back in Luke’s temple. And you couldn’t help but tell her how much damage the First Order had done in your life as well as in many others. It made her feel regret for the first time in a very long time.

You enjoyed being around the tall woman, loved to see her blue eyes and you thanked they weren’t hide behind a helmet anymore. The imposing Captain of the stormtroopers turned out to be a fragile woman without her armor, another hurted human that learned to push away everyone to protect herself from that cruel world… everyone but you. You sensed the force around her every day less full of anger, softer, calmer.

Though your friends weren’t sure about her at first when they saw you laughing with her they changed their mind. Everyone deserved at least a chance to try again, Poe knew sometimes you do bad things but can always find the right path again, Rey trusted in the small light inside Phasma that grew brighter when she was with you. Finn accepted she could change, just like you said she would.

And then one day Phasma decided she wanted to help others and not just herself, she wanted to fight for those who couldn’t, she wanted to fight for you.

“I’ve been thinking.” she told you once you were walking around the new base, still in construction. “what now that I’m completely healed?”

“Well, we still don’t have a cell so that’s not option” you joked owning a small chuckle from her as a delicate smile curved her lips, then she stopped giving you a more serious look.

“I want to join the rebellion” she said and it really took you by surprise.

“You what?” you asked confused but filled with a sudden happiness, staring at her hopefully.

“I want to join your stupid rebellion” she said in a careless tone “Why’re you looking me like that, Y/N? To survive you have to follow the strongest side, the side that’s going to win at the end.” she told you. “This has nothing to do with you”

It did, it was the reason she decided to fight, she didn’t need to tell you for you to know that she was fighting for you. You looked at her for a moment, appreciating the way her golden hair fell over her face, her delicate features, her lovely gaze. You would fight for her too.

“Then welcome to the Resistance” you said “Captain Phasma, Leader of the rebel army.”