#it’s four years old. Not the oldest any of my devices have ever been while I’m still actively using them

[fierykitten2]

My phone’s battery is actually making shit up as it goes along. It was at 6% so I turned it off and an hour or two later I put it on the charger for about a minute and it was 12 maybe a minute after I took it off the charger and then I checked almost immediately afterwards and it had gone down to 10% and then I checked very soon after again and it was suddenly 7%. When I got home (and it had not been on the charger since I saw it at 7%) it was at 8% then I looked at the battery when it was put on the charger a few seconds later and it was at 4%. I mean I know I don’t trust low power mode but I thought the battery level would at least make sense when it was on that mode

[pagingevilspawn]

Would you please write a fic about alex and jo help their daughter with her homework, they would be kinds cute help them study

cross my heart, hope to die, please stick this pencil in my eye

there’s a reason this took me forever. reason number one, two, and three; proofs. i was unable to write this because of proofs. i got this ask and LIKE A CHILD decided that i wanted to make my fictional characters suffer as much as i did. so once i was done with proofs, i had to write something about proofs, which made me exhausted because i hate even talking about proofs

that made no sense, but here’s this thing that i made. lots of it was my real life monologue, screaming at my computer bc of fucking proofs. enjoy. (also, let’s appreciate the fact that i updated three whole days in a row)

(also, another installment of the “payton loves evan peters too much” series, where i name jolex babies after his AHS characters)

Alex Karev sat in the drivers side of his SUV, making a right onto the upcoming street as he listened to the song playing on the radio. He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel absentmindedly, pulling up to the curbside of James Madison Middle School, waiting patiently in his seat until he heard the five minute warning bell ring.

When the loud bell goes off, he exits the car and makes his way to the other side, learning against the door so his kids would know it was him. Too many parent’s owned black range rovers, and the last thing Alex needed was for either one of his kids to climb into the back seat of some stranger's car. 

He didn’t need to wait long for children to start piling out of the school in large crowds. Middle school was so different from elementary, for his kids at least. He remembers when they would come sprinting out of the building as if their lives depended on it, but now they just casually strolled, no matter how much they liked or disliked school. 

A few minutes later he catches sight of his daughter, who’s eyes light up when she sees him. He wasn’t supposed to pick them up today, the nanny was. But he had gotten off of work early and had insisted with Jo that he be the one to pick up the kids. It was a task he wished he got to do more often. 

“Hey.” his daughter greets him with a smile on her face. He steps aside and lets her enter the side door, where she flops her black backpack on the floor and settles into the seat, pulling out her phone and begins to start scrolling through it. 

“Dad!” he hears another voice exclaim, quickly tracing it to his son, who was currently running to the car, backpack bouncing up and down behind him. The sixth grader moved across the property quickly, greeting his dad with a fist bump before sliding into the back seat.

He closes both of his kids doors before making his way into the driver's side, revving up the car’s engine before he drives down the long block, whatever music his daughter decided on playing through the radio. 

Alex winces when the music begins to blare through the car, “Brynn, turn that crap down would you?”

Brynn’s face looks scandalized. “It’s not crap. It’s art.” she emphasizes, turning it up even louder and screaming the words. (Poor Brynn couldn’t sing, and she knew it)

“I came in like a wreeckingggg ballll I never hit so harddd in loveeee all i wanted was to break your walls all you ever did wre-e-e-ck meee.” she yells, using her phone as a microphone, hair flying around wildly as she moved up and down, side to side in her seat.  

Alex rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his lips. His wife and daughter were too much alike sometimes. He turns the knob himself, sending his daughter a look, silently telling her not to do it again. 

“I think it’s crap. Just like how I think you sound like a dying cat whenever you sing.” his son pipes in from the back, a signature Karev smirk plastered on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on his phone. 

“Shut up Rory,” she sneers, “Nobody likes you.” 

Rory fakes a laugh, looking back to his phone, and then to the scenery outside his window. They passed house after house until they finally reached their destination, John Quincy Adams Elementary School.

“Wait here,” Alex instructs the two kids, who murmurs their we know’s, more focused on the devices in their hand to the words coming out of his mouth. 

He makes his way to the ‘log cabin’ that sat at the front of the school, giving a friendly smile to the woman sitting at the sign out table, a crappy fold out plastic table that had definitely seen better days. “Faye and Bridgette Karev.” 

The woman slides the forms across the table, handing him a pen. “Sign here and here. I’ll go get them right now.” She stands up from her seat and heads inside to tell the two girls that their father had arrived.

Alex sprawls his messy signature onto the page, huffing before leaning up against the gate. His girls could take anywhere from thirty seconds to five minutes to pack up their things. Luckily today didn’t seem to be the latter, because before he knew it, the two youngest Karev’s came bouncing towards him. 

“Daddy!” “Daddy!” 

The seven year olds gave him a large hug, showing him matching toothless smiles. When Jo and him found out that she was pregnant for a third time, they were overjoyed. They had always wanted more than two kids, but hadn’t really been actively trying. They were excited to expand their family of four into a family of five. When they discovered that she was not carrying not one, but two babies, they were shocked. Jo wasn’t expecting to get pregnant at thirty-nine, much less with twins. Brynn was seven at the time, and Rory was five, so they were worried about how their kids would react when they found out two new babies would be joining the Karev household. 

Rory --surprisingly-- took the news really well. He was excited with the fact that he could have baby brothers. (Oh well. Alex Karev only seemed to make girls, Rory being the one exception.) 

Brynn was a bit more reluctant. She had heard from her friends at school how much babies cried and stole all the attention. She loved both her parent’s equally, but she was a Daddy’s girl through and through. The thought of losing both of her parent’s focus was terrifying. What if her Daddy called her new siblings names like Bug or Princess? Those were her names, and her names only. She couldn’t let the new babies steal her names. 

It took a while, but after multiple long talks and countless acts of reassurance, but Brynn eventually came around to the idea. Before they knew it, Brynn was just as excited for the upcoming babies as they were. Jo was worried throughout her whole pregnancy. Since she was almost forty, she was now considered to have a geriatric pregnancy. Just the word ‘geriatric’ did nothing to soothe any woman’s nerves, but add that to the fact that Jo was a surgeon and knew all the risks of pregnancy, and she was practically a mess the first few months. As it turned out, the twins ended up being her easiest pregnancy, since Brynn decided to make her entrance into the world four weeks early and while she was carrying Rory she had the occasional spotting that terrified her to her core every time, worried that she was miscarrying. 

The twins ended up being born at thirty-five weeks, perfectly healthy. The only thing that gave Jo any trouble at all was the severe morning sickness, which turned out to be all day sickness. 

But in the end it was way more than worth it. Faye was pretty much Jo reincarnated, just like Brynn. Every aspect about her was exactly like her mom. Her hair, her eyes, her face shape, chin. The only thing that she inherited was the Karev crooked grin, which all of their children had. (She didn’t even have a big Karev head when she was born!) 

Bridgette on the other hand, was all Alex, except for the eye color. Between her potty mouth, sassy attitude, and overall appearance, she was the female mini evil-spawn. 

The Evil Spawn Jr, title belonged to Rory, who was basically the male version of Bridgette. Same spunk, same mischievous smirk. Jo was always telling him that she didn’t know what she did to deserve three devil’s in her house. Alex always found that one really funny. 

“You guys got everything?” he questions the two, who nod their heads up and down enthusiastically, skipping to the car and greeting their siblings. 

He drives the twenty-five minutes back to his house, the twins chattering about in the back seat. 

“And then Julie showed her her math problems, and I tried to tell her they were wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen!”

“Tommy was sooo annoying. I kept telling him to stop making noises with his pencil, but he just rolled it back and forth so many times!”

Alex laughs under his breath, listening partially to the twins’s conversation. They sounded exactly like how Cristina and Mer used to rant about completely different things to each other, so it never failed to make him think back to the ‘olden days’ as he and Meredith liked to call them. 

If someone were to tell cocky, intern Alex that he would be happily married to the love of his life for (legally) fifteen years, father of four kids, and lived in a house that literally had a white picket fence on the outside of it, he would’ve sent them to a long term psychiatric care facility, because there was no way he would ever have that life. (A life he always secretly wanted, tucked into the very tiniest corner of his brain so it could never venture farther than a fleeting thought here or there). 

“--We’re here,” he calls out, shutting off the engine as he parks in the driveway, the kids unbuckling their seatbelts and scrambling out of the car, eager to escape the confines of the vehicle and enjoy the peace of their rooms. 

Once all five were inside, he watched as the four children parted ways. “Faye, Bridge, you have thirty minutes of reading down here. Ror, you have that history test you need to study for, and Brynn, you know what you need to do.” he says, his two oldest tromping up the stairs as the twins take their place in the living room on separate seats, already engrossed in the books they needed to read as part of their daily homework assignments. 

Alex lets out a tired sigh as he flops onto the couch, more than tempted to grab the remote from the side table and flick on ESPN, but knew that he couldn’t. As much as the girls loved reading, they got distracted from books really easily. Loud horns, cheers, and buzzers wouldn’t be the way to go if he wanted any work to get done. Instead, he plucks the iPad from the coffee table, picking up where he left off that morning with an online medical article.

Before he knew it, Faye and Bridgette’s timer had rung out and they started on their math homework on the kitchen island, something that they finished with ease. Another trait Alex was grateful the children inherited from Jo, her smarts. (Specifically in math)

“Ugh!” he hears a loud exclaim from upstairs, causing him to look up from the device in his hands and glance towards the steps, half expecting an angry looking Brynn to come storming out at any moment. He huffs, focusing his attention back to the iPad in hand when no mini Jo comes down. 

“No! There are no other ways!”

Another loud groan of frustration. 

“Son of a butthead! There are NO more ways! None! I don't know how the frick to prove that the freakin angle is congruent!”

Alex debates ignoring it and letting his daughter figure it out on his own, that is until he hears something hit a wall. He quickly makes his way up the stairs and to Brynn’s bedroom, standing in the doorway for a few seconds, trying to observe the scene. 

Brynn’s normally pristine room had books scattered on the ground, blankets thrown to the side, and an open notebooks posed at an awkward angle on the floor. 

Well, at least he knew what hit the wall.  

Brynn sat on her bed, literally glaring at her computer screen, partially debating whether or not to throw the expensive device across the room. She didn’t break eye contact, as if she was in a staring contest. Alex wanted to laugh, but he knew a deathly glare would be sent his way if he did. 

He knocks on the wood door, sending a questioning glance Brynn’s way as she finally breaks her stare with the inanimate object. “Everything okay?”

The brunette huffs loudly, bouncing back onto the bed as she lets out a groan. 

“I hate proofs.” she turns her head to look at her dad, Jo’s signature puppy dog face plastered on her features. He couldn’t help but chuckle. It was crazy how much Brynn looked like Jo. Add that onto the fact that she too shared a love for flannels and jeans, she was pretty much what he imagined a fourteen year old Jo to look like. When he first found out that Brynn was going to be a girl, he said to Jo, ‘I’m gonna need a gun.’ 

Luckily, that never happened, partially because of the fact that Alex hated guns and Brynn had yet to have a boyfriend. He was more than thankful for that. Especially since he’d seen couples at Brynn’s school canoodling in what they thought was private, even though they were in full view of everyone. He’d be fine with his not-so-little little girl dating when she was twenty-five, no earlier. Any man before that would not be very fortunate. 

“I’ll help,” Alex says, taking a spot next to her and Brynn begins to show he dad the problems on her screen, going on about how she was struggling to figure it out. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

____

Jo Karev was thrilled when Bailey offered to take over her service for the rest of the day. Her husband had gotten off early, and Bailey knew how much of a struggle it was to spend quality time with family as a surgeon. 

She thanked Bailey so many times she lost count, all while boasting a large smile. She couldn’t remember the last time both she and Alex had been home before five o’clock. All she wanted was to go home, snuggle with her babies, and spend time with her husband. Well, her babies weren’t technically babies anymore, Brynn was fourteen, Rory was nearly twelve, and the twins were seven, but nevertheless, they would always be her babies. (Who cared if Rory was five foot three and already almost as tall as her? He was still such a mommy’s boy.)

She drove home with a smile on her face, humming along to the songs on the radio. She was so happy. She wanted to take her kids in her arms, and watch action movies on the couch while they pigged out on pizza together. 

When she pulls up in the drive she practically bounces up the steps to the house, swinging open the door and dropping her coat carelessly onto the rack. She hadn’t texted Alex to let him know she was coming home early, in hopes to make it a joyful surprise. 

Her heart stopped momentarily at the sound of yelling coming from upstairs. Arguments between Brynn and Alex were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were nasty. Alex always felt like crap for days afterward and Brynn stayed quiet, both at home and at school. 

“Do the reflexive property again!”

“Dad we already did that!”

“Well do it again!”

“Why?!”

“Do you see any other way to do it?”

“How is that going to help!”

“It just is!”

“Dad, we've done the reflexive property five times now!”

“You think I don’t know that!”

“Say that segment DA is congruent to AD.”

“But-”

“There are literally no other fucking ways to do it! It’s fucking shit! Thats what it is!”

“You act as if I didn’t already freakin know that!”

A loud groan. 

“What the fuck even is this one! We’ve managed to do three of them already. Try proving the triangles congruent now. Push random ones, like Side-Angle-Side.” 

“This is crap! ‘You don’t have enough proof to show that the blah blah blah.’ Stupid freaking thing! Freaking worthless!”

Jo is unable to suppress her giggle, clasping a hand over her mouth, trying not to make too much noise. It was a relief to know that the current screaming match going on wasn’t an argument. 

“They’ve been at that for an hour and a half now.” she hears her son pipe in, drawing her attention to where he sat on the couch. 

Jo sets her bag down on the table, greeting her son with a large hug, “Hi bubs.” she mumbles into his hair, feeling his arms wrap back around her. In private, Rory was the biggest cuddler, touchy-feely person you’d ever met, but in front of his friends he tried way too hard to show he was ‘too cool’ for hugging his mom, so Jo took in these moments and held them close to her heart.

“An hour and a half huh?” she chuckles, running a hand through her son’s gelled hair. 

Rory snickers, hazel eyes shining with mischief, “Yeah, dad won’t stop cursing and Tissy just keeps screaming alongside him,” he sits back onto the couch. “I’m surprised neither one of them had lost their voice yet.” he smirks his crooked Karev smirk, focusing his attention on the TV where he had opened up netflix, where he was currently binging Bates Motel. The name ‘Tissy’ came from when he was younger and couldn’t for the life of him say either Brynn nor Sissy. It seemed to have stuck all these years, and he was the only one who ever called his older sister that, even ten years later.

She sees him cringe, “I never called you mother right?” he asks, eyes not leaving the screen, where a certain Norman Bates is practically spooning his own mother in the bed, claiming that he couldn’t sleep. 

Jo snorts, ruffling his hair fondly, “Definitely not. And if you ever do, you’re dead Ror, hear me?”

Rory rolls his eyes playfully, giving his mom a grin. “I won’t. Promise.”

Jo heads up the stairs, the loud yells continuing to echo through the halls, which she chooses to ignore. 

“Dad for the fiftieth freaking time-”

“--What’s going on here?” Jo questions, causing both her husband and daughter to break away their concentration from the computer screen. 

Brynn’s face lights up at the sight of her mom standing in the doorway, more than thankful to have someone who actually knew stuff help her with her math. “Mom!” she exclaims, getting up from her place on the bed to give her mother a hug. 

“Hey baby. Care to explain to me why the second I walk through the door I'm greeted with screaming?” She questions, eyebrows raised as she sees Alex sheepishly avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the pictures that hung on the wall very interesting. 

Brynn smirks, “Well, Dad sucks at math so-”

“--Hey!” Alex interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t done this crap in like thirty years!” He defends himself.

Jo rolls her eyes and smiles of her own gracing her lips as she reaches the bed and takes a look at the problems on the computer. “Proofs?” she asks from confirmation, earning a nod from her husband and daughter. 

She hums, “Given: segment CA bisects angle BAD and segment CA bisects BCD. Prove: triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC.” she murmurs to herself.

The brunette laughs when she sees the fact that the pair had put down some form of the ‘reflexive property’ not one, not two, but seven times.

She grins triumphantly as she remembers how to do the problem, the skills seemingly coming back to her after years of them being dormant. “Next statement is angle BCA is congruent to DCA because…” she scrolls through the possible options the box provided, smirking when she found the right one. “An angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”  

She watches as an angle pops up on the screen, only encouraging her to continue, “Then… angle DAC is congruent to angle BAC because an angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.” 

Another angle comes up. 

“Finally,” she smirks, glancing to the side of for a brief second to take in the draw dropped stares of the two behind her. Brynn was a whiz at math like her mom, but proofs was something she’d been struggling with since they’d started learning them yesterday. Geometry was no joke. Her and her dad had already gotten almost all of the problems done, but it had taken so long to do a few measly problems that they’d lost track of just how long they'd been sitting in the room, arguing back and forth over different possibilities to try. 

“Triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC, reason being Angle-Side-Angle.” 

She grins, wiping her hands together as she hits the submit button, a large green check with a correct! floating on the screen, going over the ways to solve the problem. 

Alex glares at her. He’d been working on these fucking proofs for so long now, and Jo just comes in and completes it in less than a minute?

“I hate you.” he gruffs, still glaring at both his wife and the computer. 

Jo giggles, leaning over and pecking her husband’s lips. “Love you too.” 

She begins to walk out of the room, stopping and calling out over her shoulder as she reaches the doorway, “Now you just need to make sure the twins did their homework!”

[chilling-seavey]

There Goes My Life - Chapter One

A/N This is the sequel to my previous novel Anything But Mine! You can read this novel as a stand alone but it will make more sense if you read the original first! Everything is tagged in my masterlist! If you want to be added to my tag list, shoot me a message! Happy reading x

Summary:  It has been 18 years since ‘Anything But Mine’ ended and 19-year-old Clementine is now heading back to university for her second year, now accompanied by her 18-year-old sister, Penelope. Penelope soon notices that her older sister isn’t the same level-minded girl she was while living at home; having a bit of a personality change when living away at school. Things only escalate when a wrench is thrown into Clementine’s life, and she starts to question everything she ever knew to be true, almost tearing apart her family in the process.

Note: This story and the whole Anything But Mine universe, is based off the song There Goes My Life by Kenny Chesney. I recommend listening to it because it’s such a sweet song and sums up Daniel’s relationship with Clementine and his girls so well. 

Saturday, September 4, 2038

The single lane highway was framed with sprawling farmland and full green trees under a clear blue summer sky. It was September 4th and therefore the beginning of a new school year, the silver Audi driving eastward and packed full of two loads of suitcases, taped up boxes, and a few too many bags. Three teenage girls were squished together in the backseat, singing along to whatever song was on the radio. Clementine was on the right, her dark blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, sipping her strawberry lemonade between lyrics. She was ultimately calm, smiling at her little family whom she loved with her whole heart with her arm linked through her little sister’s. Lucy took the middle seat since she was youngest at merely fourteen. She took after her father with her musical talent, her pitch perfect voice filling the car impressively. As they got closer to the urban landscapes, she slid her hand into her middle sister’s who was sat on her left, offering her a gentle smile. Penelope returned it, giving her sister’s hand a small squeeze before looking back out the window; she was more than excited to be starting university with her older sister there to help her out. That was until they pulled up to the old stone campus and reality started to set in.

It wasn’t as busy as it would be since they chose to move in early. Daniel and Florence knew that their second oldest would start to panic with such a quick turn around before classes as well as being thrown into meeting so many people all at once. With Penelope, early was always better.

It didn’t seem to make any difference on her nerves as her family climbed out of the car once they parked outside the residence building but she stayed frozen in her seat, eyes glued to the old stone building towering in front of her. She slowly raised her hand to her mouth and bit anxiously at her fingernail. The car door opening startled her.

“What’s wrong, bug?” Daniel whispered, leaning down next to her as the other girls were unloading the car.

“I don’t want to do this.” Penelope breathed, her voice wavering. She glanced up at him with tears brimming in her blue eyes.

Daniel sighed, crouching down next to her, and pressed a hand to her cheek, “It’s what you’ve always talked about, Penny. You’re going to be featured in the MET before you know it.”

“But I can’t do that without you guys.” Penelope protested. “I-I just can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You’re going to absolutely kill it. And you won’t even be on your own…Clementine is going to be with you. You know she’ll be there to help you with whatever you need. And if you really need me on a weekend I can come down and take you for lunch, okay? We’re only a phone call away.”

Penelope nodded, sniffling quietly.

“Just take it one step at a time, bug. Everything’s going to be just fine.” Daniel whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to her head. He unbuckled her seatbelt for her and held out his hand for her to take.

She smiled softly and took his hand, following him around the car to the sidewalk where all the bags were piled.

“Let’s get a move on, Nell. Life won’t wait around for us.” Clementine clapped her hands together a few times through a wide smile, handing over her backpack.

The family of five made their way into the lobby of the residence building with their many boxes and bags. Clementine waltzed right up to the front desk.

“Clementine Seavey, signing in.” She announced proudly.

Her shyer sister stood a little behind her, leaning on her suitcase as she felt like her legs were going to give out.

“Go on, sis.” Clementine nudged her once she received her key.

The lady behind the front desk smiled tightly at her.

Penelope cleared her throat and took a step forward, leaning her arms on the top of the desk, “Penelope Seavey.”

The lady typed her name into the computer and then shuffled through a box of small envelopes before passing her one, “Room 302. The stairs are just down the hall on your right. Welcome to Queen’s!”

Clementine was already halfway down the hallway by the time Penelope turned around.

“Wait for your sister, Clem.” Daniel called through a laugh, draping his arm around his middle daughter’s shoulders as they followed after her.

There was no elevator in the old building so each suitcase and heavy box had to be pulled up the stairs one by one. By the time everything was brought to the third floor, they were all no less than exhausted. Clementine still powered on, finding her room down the hall; 310. Lucy scurried behind her, pushing her four-wheeled suitcase at top speed.

“You’re going to break it.” Clementine laughed, giving her youngest sister a small shove and pulled her bag inside her empty room. “Make yourself useful and go get my other stuff.” She pinched her cheek.

“Do you want to stick with Clementine and help her move in if we take care of your sister, Lu?” Florence asked.

“Sure thing.” Lucy smiled, overloading her arms with Clementine’s way too over-packed boxes before stumbling back down the hall.

Penelope looked down at the envelope in her hands that had her full name scrawled out in cursive handwriting along with her room number. She ripped it open and pulled out the key card, taking a small breath before swiping it in her door. The lock clicked and she pushed it open, stepping inside.

The room was tiny but comfortable with a double bed, a desk and a chair, and a full closet and set of drawers with a window that overlooked more of the residences and the sports field in the distance. Penelope sighed and turned around to rest against the window ledge.

“What do you think, bug?” Daniel asked, setting her suitcase in the corner.

“It’s not home.” she shrugged.

“If it was too nice, you’d never come back to us.” Florence joked. The eighteen-year-old cracked a small smile as she looked to the carpet, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.

“We know you’re going to plaster these boring white walls with pictures within two days. It’ll feel more comfortable soon.” Daniel added, bringing another few bags in from the hallway.

“Yeah.” Penelope sighed, sliding her backpack to the floor beside her desk.

“What else can we help you with?” Florence asked.

Daniel set his hands on his hips, “We can make your bed for you…or hang up your clothes…”

“I’m okay.” Penelope assured them. “I can do that.”

“You’re okay if we head out already?” Daniel asked quietly.

“Yeah.” She nodded tightly, keeping her eyes on the ground.

Florence and Daniel exchanged worried glances.

Penelope’s nose scrunched up a little before she let out a soft sob, covering her face with her hands.

“Oh, bug, it’s okay.” Daniel sighed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She tucked her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, trying to steady her panicked breaths as he ran his hand over her hair.

“Once you get into a routine, things will be easier.” Florence added gently. “And you’re going to do so well.”

“Make sure you talk to your sister, okay? Tell her if you need anything.” Daniel said. Penelope nodded.

“She’s gonna be just fine.” Clementine said from the open door. “We’re always good together, aren’t we, Nell?”

Penelope smiled and nodded, wiping her eyes as she pulled back from Daniel’s hug, “That’s what 15 years of sharing a room gets you.”

“We’re so proud of you two.” Florence sighed, holding out her hand to the eldest. Clementine joined their little group hug.

“Wow, glad to see I’m the least favourite.” Lucy rolled her eyes as she walked into the room.

“Get over here, Lu-Lu.” Penelope chuckled, pulling her little sister into her tightly.

“I can’t believe you’re both leaving me to deal with high school alone.” Lucy whined, draping her arms over her sisters’ shoulders. “And to deal with them alone.” She nodded towards their parents.

“Hey!” Florence frowned. “What’s so wrong about us?”

“Nothing.” Daniel tisked, grabbing her cheeks to kiss his wife’s lips.

“That!” Lucy smacked her hands over her eyes. “Ugh! I’m just a child!”

“You get to the car before I smack you.” Florence laughed, swatting at the dramatic youngest as she ran shrieking out of the room.

She turned back to the two eldest, pulling Clementine into a hug first to say goodbye, Daniel taking Penelope into his arms again.

“You work hard this semester, okay, Clemmie girl?” Florence whispered. “You always do. You make me so proud.”

“Thanks, mum.” Clementine chuckled.

The girls switched parents, Clementine pressing a kiss to Daniel’s cheek before hugging him tightly.

“Take good care of yourself, angel.” he said, offering her a gentle smile.

“You too, dad. I love you.” Clementine stuck her tongue out at him and he returned it, a little thing they always did ever since she could remember. 

“I love you too, my girl.” Daniel grinned, hugging her once more before the two sisters were left to their own devices.

Clementine turned to her eighteen-month-younger sister and smiled widely once the door closed, “Welcome to Queen’s. Welcome to your whole new life, Nell.”

Tag List: @ur-local-limelight​ ~ @thebestyoullneverhave​ ~ @badbunnypr​ ~ @calumhoodiskindahot​ ~ @sothisisathingforsomereason​ ~ @jocelyntheduckie​

[knjnvrland]

Prank Wars - ch. 1

> pairing | jungkook x reader

> word count | 2.9k

> genre | college!au, fluff, smut

> warnings | just some good old swearing for now

> synopsis | College can be a stressful time in anyone's life as it is, why don't we throw a little prank war in the mix to make it harder?

> fic masterlist

> A/N | Hey everyone! This is the first fic I'm posting on this Tumblr, please be kind with your words but make sure to let me know what you think! This is a multi chapter fic I'm cross posting at ao3, search me there as 'restlessxsleeper'. English is not my first language, I'm sorry for the eventual spelling mistake, please let me know if you find any! I'll add trigger warnings at the beginning of every part, because even though we start funny and soft it takes a turn at some point, so please be sure to read those at the beginning of each chapter.

Chapter 1 - New Beginnings 

If you ever encountered another box in your lifetime you would be capable of murder, you thought to yourself, unloading the last of your belongings onto the bed.

“All good here, y/n?” Your brother checked from the door, peeking his head inside your room.

“Yeah Joonie, I’m all set” you still had a lot of unpacking and organizing to do, but for now you could set your brother free.

“Okay good, I still have to pick up Jin hyung from the train station so I’ll get going, call me later?” He was already halfway to the door and you knew.

“Yeah yeah, just go” you waved him off without looking back.

You heard the door closing behind him and then there was one. You knew your brothers were all just a few minutes away now, much closer then they used to be, but it felt weird knowing that this place you were standing in is now your entire home. The dorms weren’t nearly as bad as Jin and Tae made them out to be. You had to share a room, yes, something different that you never had to do before - being the only girl amongst your siblings you always had the privilege of having a room to yourself. But the dorm also had a small living room and something close to a kitchen. And the bathroom was clean, although you doubted a normal sized human-being could fit in that bathtub.

Your roommate’s side was already decorated. She had pink floral bedsheets and fairy lights hanging all around her stuff. You were sure she was one of those cute petite girls with big dreams and high hopes. She was nowhere to be seen though, you had been here for almost an hour now and still had to meet her. But that’s okay, you enjoyed being by yourself and you didn’t mind the peace and quiet to unpack at your own pace, so you just got right into work.

A couple hours flew by and you had just finished stuffing the last of the empty plastic boxes under your bed when you heard her coming. She was nothing you had imagined. Dark long hair and shiny eyes, yes, but taller than you, and skinnier, for sure. She had tight black skinny jeans and a pretty red shirt on, and although she was dressed simple, the way she stood made her look as if she just walked out of a fashion show. But as soon as she noticed you, her whole demeanor changed.

“Oh hey! I nearly didn’t see you, you must be y/n, right?” She was all smiles looking at your small figure barely showing from behind the bed.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, hope I didn’t scare you" you finally got up from your hiding spot to confirm that yup, she was definitely taller.

“No you’re alright” she took a step closer with open arms and you allowed yourself to be hugged by a complete stranger “I’m so excited to finally meet you! I’m Alice, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you” you managed to respond through the mane of hair around you and gave a small nudge to her waist to get out of her embrace.

“Oh I’m sorry! Did that made you uncomfortable? I’m a hugger, my friends keep telling me to take it easy but I just never do” She politely took a step back and seemed genuinely concerned about your feelings about that small act of affection.

“It's cool, I’m just not really used to it, I have three older brothers, we spend more time hitting each other than hugging" Alice took a sit on her bed and you did the same on yours, reading her motion to keep talking. “They all go here, well… not all of them, one just graduated actually, but he still lives close by, it’s a family thing I guess.”

“Oh who are them? I might know them or something, I’ve been here for a while and, as I’m sure you just saw, I’m a bit too social for my own good” she kicked her shoes off and made herself more comfortable, and again you mimicked her actions.

“Well the older one is Jin. Seokjin, actually, but I can’t remember the last time someone called him by his full name” you smiled, remembering that the only person he would let actually use his birth given name was your mother. “Then there’s Namjoon and Taehyung, they live together off campus with a couple of their friends” by the time you finished talking Alice had the biggest smile on her face.

“I can’t believe you’re the baby Kim they talk about so much!” At your confused expression, she continued “I’m really close friends with your brothers, my boyfriend introduced me to them last year and they had been a pain in my ass ever since! I don’t remember seeing you at Jin’s graduation though.”

“That’s so weird” you laughed, surprised at how small the world actually was. Or maybe your brothers, contrary to you, were just very social. “I was living abroad when he graduated, actually, and I was coming to surprise him but my flight got delayed and I missed the whole thing, he still gives me hell about it.”

“I can imagine” Alice laughed as well, swinging her body up again and standing by your bed now “I was actually just passing by the dorms to grab a coat and was heading to the boy’s house, you should come, it will be so nice to finally have another girl there” she extended her hand to you “We'll be the best of friends, I can already feel it” at that you grabbed her hand and reciprocated her warm smile.

You were not very sociable, and throughout all your life your closest friends have always been your brother’s friends, you wouldn’t bother changing that now, and it was good to have a girl by your side.

“Yeah sure, can I just take a shower first?”

Namjoon actually texted inviting you to come over when you were already on your way to his place in Alice’s car, so you never bothered answering, assuming you’d just show up in a few minutes anyway.

“I just have to pick my boyfriend up, if that’s alright?” You nodded, not really having any right to oppose, seeing as you were in her car anyway.

“Should I jump to the backseat?” You moved to unbuckle your seatbelt but her hand stopped you.

“It’s alright, really, I texted him before we left and I bet he won’t even look up from his phone when he gets in the car. Plus, you have a better music taste then him and I need you to keep changing songs” the compliment made you feel good and you relaxed in you seat, waiting for the boyfriend to show up.

A couple minutes later the door opened, just as you were looking for the next tune, and a handsome man took his place in the backseat. He had hair darker then Alice’s and although a little intimidating, he wasn’t tall or muscular, just had a certain aura around him. And just like the girl beside you predicted, he didn’t look away from his phone for a second.

“Y/n, this is Yoongi, Yoongi this is baby Kim” at his girlfriend’s voice he finally looked up, a confused look on his face.

“Baby Kim?” His voice was low and controlled, and he had the smallest pout searching for Alice’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

“She’s Joon’s younger sister” she started the car again and as soon as it left the driveway his attention was already gone.

“Oh, cool. Hi.” You assumed he addressed it at you, but his focus was entirely on the small device in his hand again.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just always working this days, I can’t believe I managed to get him out of his apartment today and- Hey! I love that song!” And just like that her attention was gone too. You could see why they worked.

Yoongi actually had the key to the apartment so you just walked right through the entrance of the building and up the elevators, only bothering to make yourselves known when you were already at the front door, ringing the doorbell. Not even you had the keys to your brother’s apartment, so they must be pretty close with this Yoongi guy. Just how much have you lost in the year you spent away? Before you could finish your thoughts, the door opened to review Jimin smiling warmly at the three of you. His expression changed quickly though, when he realized it wasn’t just his friends at the door but also little old you.

“Y/n-ah!” He opened his arms to welcome you “I missed you! Tae didn’t mention you were coming tonight!” You reciprocated the hug gladly.

Jimin is one of your oldest friends as well. He was Taehyung’s best friend since your brother could barely walk, and you all grew up together. With him constantly at your place, it was difficult to not see him as one of your own. He swung with you in his arms left and right before releasing you again.

“Yeah, Joon invited me actually, I just didn’t respond” you admit, passing your fingers through your hair to get it in place.

Yoongi and Alice just walked straight ahead and made themselves comfortable in the living room sofa. Namjoon’s and Taehyung’s place was much nicer than the dorms, that's for sure. It was way bigger as well, even if there were four people living here. You’ve been around a few times before with your mother, but it was clear that the boys made an effort then, seeing as how the place was kind of a mess now. Not dirty or anything, it just had a lot of stuff around. It was a four bedroom apartment, two of those bedrooms being suites. It had a spacious living room with large comfortable couches and a TV that was way too big for the table it was on. There was also a small table that was clearly moved to the side and not used much, and then there was a kitchen, only separated by a counter from the rest of the place. And your favorite part of the place: a large balcony filled with plants and pots and all things green that Namjoon kept.

“Y/n?” You were so caught up looking around that you didn’t realize your brother had left his room to see who arrived.

“Hey Tae, I can see that the getting-your-life-together thing was just an act for mom, uh?” You teased, pointing at the pile of clothing that was clearly his laying in one of the chairs around the small table beside you.

“I didn’t know you were coming today” ignoring the provocation completely, he walked past you into the kitchen “any of you guys want anything?”

“A beer, please, and do you have soda for Yoongi?” Alice turned from her place to see his response and as soon as Tae raised her the can of coke she smiled happily and returned her attention to whatever her boyfriend was showing her on his phone.

“Namjoon hyung should be right back, he went to buy more beer with Hoseok” Taehyung offered you a bottle of beer as well and went to sit on the sofa beside Yoongi. At that, Jimin, who was still by your side, nudged you to follow him and sit as well.

The conversation started flowing and you soon explained that you were actually rooming with Alice. To that, Taehyung offered his condolences to your new girl friend and earned himself a good old smack on the neck from you. Yoongi didn’t talk much, but whenever he opened his mouth it was to roast one of the other younger boys, and for that you were already very much a fan of him. Alice seemed at ease and both Jimin and Tae called her 'noona', showing how much they really cared for her. You were still a little bit shy, not knowing how to behave being around so many people your age again, seeing as you had spent the last year of your life mostly with really nice old ladies, volunteering at an organization in Dublin, but the change of pace seemed nice, and you were excited for the college experience, specially if it meant having friends like these around.

The door opened again a while later to reveal Namjoon, Hoseok and Jin carrying multiple bags of groceries, mostly filled with booze, you guessed. They didn’t notice you there at first, but as soon as Jin did, you were instantly smashed by the weight of him on top of you.

“Y/n-nie I missed you so much” he squeezed your head in a suffocating way.

“You saw me a week ago, please, I can’t breathe” you struggled and he released you from his deathly grip.

“That’s too much time to be away from my baby sister” he stated matter of factly and went back to the kitchen to help Hoseok, while you, once again, tried to tame the mess he made on your hair.

“I wasn’t sure you were coming” Namjoon took his place beside you, handing you another bottle of beer when he noticed yours was empty.

“I was already on my way here when you texted, my roommate is Alice” you clinked bottles with him as you have done many times before and took a sip, while he scanned the room to find Alice already smiling reassuringly back at him.

“Well, that’s a coincidence” Hoseok took his sit on the floor in front of you and smiled. He had helped you unload your boxes earlier with Namjoon and you were already so very fond of his heart shaped smile.

The night went by quickly, with you getting adjusted to the new dynamics. You learned that Hoseok and Jimin were both dance majors, and that’s how the four of them ended up living together. You also learned that Yoongi was a music major and worked at the campus’ official radio station, so you'd better get used to hearing his voice through the speakers wherever you were. Alice was a psychology major and, although you already knew your brother’s study fields, it was different hearing Tae complain about his art history professor in such colorful words that he obviously kept from your mother, and Joon candidly reciting books by heart at the most random times, you could only hope to take literature as serious as he did. Jin made you all dinner, but of course you all had to promise to swing by his cafe the next morning before classes start to repay him. Finally, you learned that there was still a piece missing, some dude called Jungkook that was apparently the same age as you, but a year ahead in college, seeing as you took a gap year. He was still moving in and that’s why he never came, but if he was half as cool as the people around you, you’d be just fine.

The next morning you woke up with time to spare. Alice was already up and showered when you left your room, witch you appreciated, as you now had the bathroom all to yourself. You washed your hair and got dressed in the outfit you had planned almost a week prior. As you were applying a bit of make up, Alice entered the room and gave you a cup of coffee she had just made, and you were a thousand times happier with the roommate you were assigned. Both of you grabbed your stuff and headed out the door to pass by Jin’s coffee shop for a nice morning treat as promised.

It was a short walk but it still took you a while to finally enter the place, as it was packed with anxious young adults heading to their first day of classes. As soon as Jin spotted you both, though, he pointed at a couple of free seats he saved for you at the counter and made a motion with his hands asking you to wait a second for him. You had had your coffee already, so when Jin brought two plates of toast you were amazed at how well your brother could read your mind. 

“Jin oppa, can you get me a couple of muffins, I’ll drop them at the studio on my way to class” Alice asked nicely when Jin finally caught a break and he promptly found the two prettiest blueberry muffins for her to take “I’ll get going so I can feed Yoongi one of these, see you later, Y/n! Thanks again Jin!” Blowing a kiss at the both of you, Alice went on her way.

You took a look at your phone and realized you had fifteen minutes to get to class, more than enough time, sure, but you still wanted to get there early and find yourself a good seat, as Namjoon had told you creative writing was one of the hardest to get a good place. You waved your brother goodbye and just as you were leaving, it happened:

Out of nowhere, this tall dude ran into you as if you were nothing, spilling the dark coffee he was carrying all over you. He cursed -not at you, he didn’t even look at you-, and just kept walking, no apologies, no looking back. He just left. Your white shirt and your pants were ruined and you definitely didn’t have time to go back to the dorms and change. Facing the facts, you would spend your first day of college with stained clothes, but you swore to yourself that you would find out who that boy was and, when you did, you would make him pay.

> A/N | It's simple and cliché, I know, but give it a chance, I promise it gets better! Have a nice day, wherever and whoever you are :)

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

[boymeetsweevil]

(Welcome to) Camp Lonely Heart

Grouping: Camp Counselor!Reader x Camp Counselor!Taehyung

Word Count: ~15.6k lmao 

Warnings/Themes: walkie talkie sex + masturbation, graphic public sex in a field, descriptions throughout of breast play, 69ing, riding, fingering, creampie sorta, some bullying, some angst, concerned older brother Minho, OC is kinda flaky

Summary: It’s possible to find love in all sorts of places: In bars, in school, on apps. But what about through a walkie talkie?

Part of the Masterlist for Group 2 of the @btssmutclub Summer Project

A/N: sorry its late! tagging @classickei and @chimchurro

A noogie from his older brother is the first thing to welcome Taehyung when he arrives at the admin building for the first weekly counselor meeting. He sits through it patiently because he knows Minho means well and it’s better than those times where he just cups Taehyung’s face tenderly and says absolutely nothing. But this is why he insisted they arrive separately.

With Minho’s arm tossed over his shoulder, Taehyung makes his way into the familiar conference room. Despite the fact that this is his 3rd year as a junior counselor, the fact that the conference hasn’t changed since it was built in the 80’s still surprises him every time. The people inside it change fairly frequently, though. There’s always a steady rotation of counselors for both the boys’ and the girls’ camps on their respective sides of Lake Lonely Heart.

A smattering of people are already seated and chatting amongst themselves before the introductory meeting starts. As more people trickle in, Taehyung acknowledges them from his corner seat. Some veteran staff from the boys’ camp naturally come to his and Minho’s side of the table, greeting Minho mostly.

“How was your trip up, son,” asks one of the senior staff, Cref.

“It was good,” Minho gives a genuine smile up at Cref before giving a pointed look in Taehyung’s direction.

“Oh,” Cref’s eyes dim noticeably, “And how was your trip, Tae?”

“It was fine,” Taehyung’s answer matches Cref’s in its lack of warmth.

“I see you kept that little ponytail thing you had last summer.”

“Yeah.”

“Shame,” Cref huffs before turning to some of the other boys’ staff that arrived while he was talking and gesturing to Taehyung.

“Cref can you really talk when you’ve still got that comb-over?” The comment sends the other boys’ staff who’d been listening into a tizzy and Cref scoffs before turning on them to compensate. Meanwhile, Minho gives Taehyung a covert pat on the back.

None of the girls’ staff seemed to be watching the exchange with the exception of one girl who must be a new hire. Taehyung doesn’t recognize her face from last summer and though she’d been snoring softly when Taehyung first arrived, she looks at some of the jeering boys’ staff with a bit of muted disapproval. The look is brief because almost instantly another one of the counselors near her pulls her into another conversation. The sour tinge her features had disappears and leaves a gentle and open expression on her face as she listens to someone tell her about what to expect with her sleeper cabin.

There’s something nice about her face even though nothing specific jumps out at him as super beautiful or sexy. The soft way she smiles is subtle, almost like the turn of lips could have been a trick of the light. He wants to know what a full-blown smile would look like. Taehyung likes to think that he would have gotten up to talk to her. Eventually. If it weren’t for the camp leader entering the room with the dreaded Talking Stick.

“Alright everyone,” the camp leader shouts energetically, halting all conversations. “Veterans don’t spoil anything. Newbies, one of you raise your hand and tell me what you think this is,” she grins and wiggles the bedazzled stick in a wide circle.

Taehyung sighs and settles back further into his chair, ready to endure yet another round of icebreakers and name learning games.

“Here’s your humble abode for the next few months,” Moe grunts as she pushes the door of the cabin in. She smiles shakily before mumbling something about the paint job being so new that the door wouldn’t budge. A few hits to the door with her shoulder help it swing open.

The cabin looks nearly identical to that of Moe and Moe’s roommates. A pair of bunkbeds sit across the main room from one another. There’s some simple wooden furniture and a nice view of forest on the girls’ side of the lake in the front window by the door. The bathroom has two shower stalls and two sinks. The cabin is clearly made to hold four occupants.

“Are my roommates on their way?”

You walk in and admire the posters on the wall. They must have been left by some other counselor some number of summers ago.

“So, uh, you actually get this whole cabin to yourself.”

“Huh? Like I’ll be sleeping here by myself?”

“Yeah. I know its weird, but it’s not on purpose. The rooming system isn’t the most efficient. People fill the first cabin and then we fill the second one and on and on. When we got your answer, it was late and we’d perfectly filled 3 other cabins before this one. And since your position was the last one we filled before closing the apps, there weren’t any other people after you who could have been placed here.”

You try your hardest not to look too dismayed at your lonesome living situation. But, truthfully, one of the things that made you consider taking the position was the friends you were hoping to make on he job. The job testimonies on the Camp Lonely Hearts website mentioned that some of the best times of being a counselor were the times had in the cabin with coworkers after dark. With you being new to the city and this being the first summer in a long while where you weren’t forcing yourself into a boring 9-to-5, you wanted to take a chance on something inspiring instead. And you really wanted to make friends because city life alone was taking a toll on you. The chance to be a ‘youth leader for the young women and men of Camp Lonely Heart’ seemed like just the right thing.

Now, though, it looked like you would have to work a little harder to make the lasting connections you were expecting to fall into your lap the first night on the grounds.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Moe says when some of the bouncy pluck in your shoulders seems to leave you with the sigh you let out. “You’re welcome to bring a sleeping bag and sleepover in cabin 3 any time.”

“Thanks, Moe.” She leaves you to unpack with the slow setting sun.

Everything seems clean enough under your quick inspection. You take over the bathroom with your toiletries and towels. The bunk bed is less uncomfortable than you thought it would be, and there’s an outlet near your little writing desk, so you’re able to plug in and set up your boombox. There’s no wifi at the camp, and while it’s an experience you’re looking forward to, you can’t live in total silence. You did, however, bid all your friends a temporary goodbye on Facebook after explaining where you’d be for the summer.

You switch the boombox onto radio mode and extend the boosted antennae. It picks up a classics station that you unpack to. The job is over quickly given that you only had to pack a few undergarments and pairs of shorts to rotate with the t-shirts that they give to counselors so people don’t confuse some of you with campers.

When boredom starts clawing at the edges of your brain, you snoop through all the little corners and crannies you ignored when you first arrived and were busy with settling in. You don’t find much. You find a shoebox with a bunch of office supplies under the other bunk bed, a supremely large beetle carcass on your window sill, and a solar powered walkie talkie in the bottom drawer of the writing desk.

The walkie talkie obviously is the most intriguing find out of all of your finds, but you don’t see its mate in the cabin. Surprisingly enough, it powers up, but it has a low battery. You fiddle with the channels and mumble a wimpy little ‘anyone there’ into the first one. Figuring that no one is there, you lower it from your ear and move to go make your bed when the device sounds.

“Hello?”

The voice is deep and smooth. You’re so spooked by the response that the walkie talkie slips from your hand and clatters to the floor with a loud clunk. You let out a curse and bend down to pick it up only to find that the transmission was cut off from the impact. With the hopes that you can revive the device, you stick it in the bathroom window where you know it will get the most sun during the day and pray it's not broken.

Before you head to bed early, you go over your schedule and how you’re going to present yourself to the kids the next morning. It takes a while for you to memorize your schedule because your mind is slightly preoccupied,  wondering what the person on the other end must be thinking of your sudden departure.

You were worried that it would take a while to adjust to your position and that the kids would be intimidating, but quickly you realize there was nothing to worry about.

You love your girls more than you could have predicted. They took to you instantly since you were the youngest among the counselors. Even the 17-year-olds, who are the oldest campers there, flocked to you too during parts of the daily schedule that you weren’t leading. Many of the girls in high school would drag you to their table in the mess hall during dinner or the free period before lights out to ask you for school advice and questions about the more mysterious parts of life. It instills in you a strong sense of responsibility that you didn’t think was possible. You didn’t think you’d ever find teenagers endearing.

The camp itself is kind of like a hazy afternoon dream. The nature around you is beautiful and the air is crisp. If you take a 20 minute trek away from the main grounds, you stumble into the camp’s medium sized lavender field. It’s your favorite place to be at any time of the day because the air is thick with the scent of the purple flower. The first time you see it, you’re joining one of the other junior counselors, Jade, to grab some plants for craft time.

“You’re gonna trap flies like that,” Jade gestures to your slack mouth.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that we barely even get grass on the sidewalks at my new apartment. And this is...so beautiful.”

You can’t help it really. The sweet scent that had been coating your nose and throat since you were halfway up the trail just increased ten-fold and has stolen the place of your breath.

“Yeah, it has that effect on people. But you get used to it after working here long enough and the smell starts to fade. You might even get a little sick of it.”

You shake your head to clear it and try to fathom the idea of being sick of lavender. The rows of plants are lush, huge, and neat. You walk through the small plowed paths between each bush looking for the most fragrant patch you can find. There’s what looks like a few other counselors from the other side of the lake wandering through some nearby rows, looking for the same thing you are. You tap Jade’s shoulder when their backs are turned to you and whisper.

“They’re from the boys’ camp, right? Do you know those guys? ” Jade turns and squints into the distance before straightening up immediately.

“Oh my god, yeah, that’s Minho. He’s the yoga instructor for the boys.” Her tone takes on a wispy, dreamy quality. “He’s so nice and so cool. And, like, really funny.”

The man in question has on a shockingly bright Tiffany blue t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to beat the heat. And perhaps showcase his sculpted arms. He looks tall and broad from your vantage point, but he doesn’t seem extraordinary at first glance. Maybe he’s really great once you get to know him.

“What about the other one?” The slightly shorter man with the tiny ponytail and coke-bottle glasses catches your attention more. Even though he’s fairly far away, you can tell he has a nice profile. Jade squints again and hums in thought.

“Mm, I don’t know. I think he’s one of the newer guys. I don’t really remember his spiel from the intro meeting. Do you know him?”

“No,” you give him one last look before squatting down and getting to work. “Just curious.”

***

“—and then move this finger here,” Taehyung nudges one of the camper’s fingers until it’s sure to make the guitar in his hands sing that way he wants. “That’s the last part of the chord. So from there you can play that song we went over in musical hour. Did you take notes?”

“Yeah.” The kid in front of him is probably no more than 16, maybe a baby-faced 17. He looks too nervous for an impromptu guitar review during free time.

“Kook, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook hangs his head a little in embarrassment. “Just...what if I suck at guitar?”

“Then you suck at guitar,” Taehyung shrugs. “It’s okay to not be good at things. Especially if you’re just learning them for the first time.”

“I know, but I really need to be good at this. I have to be able to learn a song in less than a week by the time camp ends.”

“That can be kind of fast depending on the song. Why do you need to learn songs so quick?”

Jungkook’s round cheeks heat up and he eyes his peers who are playing jacks at one of the dinner tables. “There’s this girl...”

Taehyung hums knowingly and smiles down at the kid. “I see. Did you tell her you could play guitar?”

“How did you know?” Jungkook’s are wide as he eyes Taehyung like he read his mind.

“Just a guess.”

The camper nods. “I told her I’d learn her favorite song and play it for her when she gets back from vacationing with her parents. But I obviously don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Well, I can’t promise you that you’ll become a prodigy before the end of camp, but I’ll let you borrow my guitar every day as long as you promise to practice like you mean it every time.”

“If I do that, do you think I’ll at least be able to learn her song?”

“I’ll personally help you learn the song.” Jungkook’s shoulder relax instantly once he realizes he’s in good hands.

***

“Star, it’ll be fine. Really,��� you try your hardest to get the tiny middle schooler to stop shaking without drawing attention to her as you bring her into the admin building. “Once your mom picks up, I’m sure she’ll understand and she’ll bring your hormones over.”

“I know,” Star’s frame shivers with the force of her hiccups, her eyes pink and watery. “But I can’t believe I forgot them at all. She didn’t even wanna let me go because she was worried I’d lose them.”

“But you didn’t lose them, sweetpea. You forgot them. Kinda different.” The little sobs, now intermittent at best, halt as she processes your logic.

You show Star to the telephone used for emergency contact or extreme cases of homesickness before stepping away to let her have some privacy with her mother. In the meantime, you let the borrowed keys of Moe’s truck swing from your fingers while you explore the halls of the admin building.

It feels odd roaming the various wings of the building when you’re not there for your Wednesday morning staff check-ins. The layout isn’t any different from those days, but you rarely get to see the other parts since you usually just make a beeline for the conference room.

The white painted cinder block walls and the linoleum tiles give you flashbacks to your own adolescent days in school. As does the un-ironic use of retro inspirational posters—though you suppose they weren’t retro when they were first put up. A few doors leading to utility closets or other, smaller conference rooms. While hunting for the staff lounge, you find a counselor you recognize from your side of the lake talking covertly with a counselor presumably from the boys’ side. Your roll your eyes when they give a disdainful stare for breaking their private moment and keep snooping.

At the end of the hall is the communal laundry room. The lines for it are usually awful on Wednesdays. You peer in just to see what it is you don’t have to deal with since you have your own unit in your little cabin. In that moment, you catch someone holding up boxers. You recognize them as that Minho guy that all the counselors seemed to have fallen for.

“Did you find any extra detergent, Tae?” He turns to you then and realizes you’re not who he thinks you are and you’re out of there as quickly as possible.

When you get back to the phone, Star is waiting patiently with no more tears and news that her mom will be dropping off her hormones and some homemade fudge.

***

Breakfast is served to the counselors at asscrack od dawn so that they can get the mess hall ready for the campers and complete the first things on the schedule for the day. Usually it's not so bad, but today’s early rise is hard for Taehyung because Minho brought some of the other counselors into their cabin the night before and they didn’t leave until late.

So when Taehyung stumbles into the mess hall looking for pancakes, he hasn’t given any thought to his morning appearance. He fixes his plate and sits across from his brother since the spot next to him is taken by Cref.

Taehyung’s wearing an old t-shirt that’s gone through many of his more experimental phases with clothes. The previously white t-shirt is now a soft apricot color after a night he was practicing with dyes a few years ago and the sleeves are thin in the places he took scissors to the shirt.

“Nice lingerie,” Cref sneers down his nose at Taehyung while he picks at his breakfast meat sleepily. “You know, I think I saw something at the mall a few weeks ago.”

A few of the guys sitting on the side laugh, some even dumbly repeat the joke under their breath as they chuckle into their breakfast.

“Fuck off, Cref.” Taehyung’s sigh comes out deeply tired. More tired than one could be from one night up too late from a noisy roommate’s friends. “It’s too early for this.”

“Yeah, Cref,” Minho pipes up, eyes locked on Taehyung’s sleep-puffy face and messy long hair. “We all know you don’t personally have the ass to pull off anything in a lingerie shop. And you definitely don’t have anyone’s ass to pull them off of either. You just sound sad, man.”

Cref stammers at Minho’s comment, not missing the subtle way the jab went a little deeper than it normally does when the two are just ripping on one another for fun. He admits defeat and sends a little nod in Taehyun’s direction. The same guys who were giggling earlier look on at Minho with some awe and are quick to jump on Cref for his non-existent ass as well.

When Minho kicks him under the table, Taehyung gives him a small thumbs up before taking his now half-eaten plate away to dump.

***

Dinners are normally spent at a table off to the side with the campers because they want to be able to treat you less like an authority figure and more like a wise older sister. But tonight you’re eating with the other counselors because you’re missing adult company. It’s been hard to have any of the bonding moments you were hoping for and there’s not much time during the day to have them when you’re trying to patch up skinned knees and guide macaroni projects.

Even though everyone is friendly enough and does try to make sure you feel included, you can’t help but notice how peripheral you are. After a few weeks, everyone has their designated dinner seat, so you were forced to pull up a chair to eat. Once the plates were cleared, you still felt a little left out. Apparently everyone makes a habit of staying up a little later than you so they can have time to unwind and talk about the day together in the other cabins. Apparently, people even share bunks occasionally so that they can visit non-roommate staff for the night.

You know you’re really not part of the group when the conversation becomes 80% inside jokes and you can’t recognize or understand a single one. The girl next to you attempts to explain the first few, but it slows the conversation down and you can tell that people are losing their patience when a story has to halt for you to catch up on nicknames or events. She stops explaining after the 4th one and you don’t really blame her. Maybe you should have spent dinners with them more. Or maybe you shouldn’t have gone to bed so early; even on the nights where you felt the exhaustion in your bones.

While everyone laughs about something someone said one night earlier in the summer, you construct a mental pros and cons list in your head. You could stick around and try to scrape through every single thing everyone says until you get all the jokes and can understand why random things like the brisket you’re eating is so funny. Or you can accept that you’ll probably have to forge these connections individually and not feel bad about getting well-deserved rest when you need it.

You opt for the latter and genuinely explain to everyone that while you had a nice time, you’re feeling a little fatigued. No one looks like they’ve caught on, but no one looks too upset to see you go either. The conversation continues to flow as you leave the dining hall, no need to fill the space you left because you didn’t really leave one. The walk from the mess hall to your cabin is short and brisk and you feel as though you’re not sure you made the right choice. You hope sleep will clear your head.

But before you get to the little fork in the foot trail that separates the other cabins from yours, you get struck with a current of rebellion. If you’re going to be lonely, you might as well make the solo time as fun as possible. So you sneak behind one of the cabins, searching for the cooler you know is wedged under the raised foundation. The first night there, someone showed you the booze that they brought in behind the camp leader’s back during the strict luggage inspection. If you recall correctly, you remember this girl saying that her boyfriend drives up during the weekly meetings and drops off new cases of beers for her to scoop up under the guise of a “bathroom break”.

When you open the cooler, there’s several 40s sitting in a bath of ice. It’s not your drink of choice, but beggars can’t be choosers. You take two for good measure and skip off to go drink on your porch with the radio blaring from inside the cabin.

***

“Tae, come on. You haven’t pulled your trunks out once since we got here.”

Minho whines fairly well for someone of his stature and it’s convincing enough with the pouty lips and the puppy eyes that Taehyung really does consider it. ‘It’ being swapping his pajamas for some board shorts and heading out to the lake for a night swim. Apparently the water will be refreshing in the thick and heavy heat in the night air. One of the other counselors had promised a smuggled beer, but Taehyung isn’t really interested in tempting fate.

“I don’t think I’m up for it,” Taehyung says while pushing Minho out the front door of their cabin. His biggest fans Jay and Dan are waiting outside and groan when Minho turns back again.

“You sure you don’t want to come? Maybe you’ll end up having fun. You never know.”

Jay whispers to Dan then. “I don’t know why he’s always so obsessed with bringing him around to stuff. It’s not like he adds anything to the mood, you know?”

It’s loud enough for Taehyung to hear, though he doesn’t think it was supposed to be heard. Minho instantly shoves Jay into Dan, who both go stumbling off the steps of the cabin porch. A moment later his eyes admit defeat and he pats Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Do you want company? I can stay in and you can, like, teach me the color wheel again.”

“Really, it’s fine. I’m gonna do some reading. I brought a few books that I’ve been wanting to crack open. And I’m kinda tired. Don’t worry about me.”

***

By the time you’ve finished half of your second bottle, you’ve migrated back into your cabin. Drunk-you is a little paranoid and worried that the camp leader will show up out of nowhere and see you intoxicated. Although, as you flop onto your bed, you’re not sure that’s such a bad thing. At least then you’d have company, you muse.

The bottle hangs from your lax fingers and you take a look at your surroundings. The screen door is facing out towards the lake and the view shows that the boys’ side of the camp is still awake with the lights from their own cabins shining like small beacons back at you. Then you look back and there’s the four walls of wood. You wonder briefly if its pine or oak before realizing you’re a little too drunk if you’re trying to distinguish between types of lumber. You do appreciate the wood’s warm tone and the natural striations that add some intrigue to the otherwise bland walls. If it weren’t for the abandoned Kiki’s Delivery Service poster on one wall facing your bed, you might think you were in a wooden version of solitary confinement.

Your head turns to rest more comfortably on your pillow and you gaze up at the little writing desk below the window that faces the woods behind the cabin. A little blurry shadow obscures some of the view of the forest and you sit up to see it better. It’s the little walkie talkie you discovered on the first day.

Drunkenness and boredom compel you to leave the softness of your mattress and stumble over to the window. The walkie talkie spent several weeks in the sun, so you figure it can’t be out of battery. You also figure it can’t have actually been destroyed from the meter it fell from your hand to the floor that one day. So you flip the power switch with blind hope and squeal excitedly when it turns on. Pressing the ‘talk’ button, you hop around the main room of the cabin and hum into the first channel. The song you’re singing is a broken version of a tune your grandfather used to always have floating in the air of his house from his record player. The melody sloshes together at certain points like the contents of the bottle you continue to take generous swigs from.

***

Taehyung’s reading in his bed, trying to tune out the sounds of distant splashing and shouting coming from his co-counselors by the lakeside. When he picks up the sound of sloppy singing, he wonders if Minho has come back to the cabin for a towel or to try to convince him to come back out again. But the door of the cabin doesn’t swing open. Taehyung is confused for about 5 more seconds before he’s eyeing the dark space under his bed suspiciously. There, underneath a sheet that fell down the crack between the mattress and the bed, is the walkie talkie that’s been collecting dust since the night before the camp session started.

He shifts an arm down behind the bed and disentangles the device from the sheets and dust bunnies. Sure enough, the broken lilting of the soft tune is coming from the walkie talkie. To say he’s surprised is an understatement. A few weeks prior, he’d turned on the walkie talkie by accident and a moment later someone’s voice sparked from the speaker. He was intrigued enough by the voice to leave the device on during the day, charging it often in case whoever was on the other side would want to tune in again.

Now, the fog of sleep rises to make room for this little mystery. He doesn’t try to speak just yet. Instead, he lets your voice continue your rendition of a few songs mashed into one from a famous jazz album. When your voice putters out because you forget where the rest of the tune’s trail leads, Taehyung smiles to himself.

“I really—hic—wish someone was there,” your whisper crackles through the speaker.

He worries a bit about scaring you off again, but the urge to speak outweighs the worry. He holds the device up to his mouth hesitantly. “Someone is.”

“Oh.” You don’t seem nearly as startled as you were last time he spoke up. “The void speaks.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not the void.”

“Well,” you hiccup more into the walkie talkie and the sound is funny and tiny. “I suppose you’re not if you say you’re not. But who’s to say the void isn’t just a consciousness trapped in a reality that won’t answer back.”

“Wow. Do you normally philosophize in the midnight hour while drinking?”

The sound of you taking a large swig from your 40 washes into his side. “How did you know I’ve been drinking?”

“Call it a hunch,” he grins up at the slats of the mattress above his own.

“Well, what are—what are you doing?”

“Me?” For some reason the question takes him by surprise. “I’m just reading.”

“Reading what?”

“N-nothing.” He stares down at the book he was reading. “It’s just an art book.”

“What kind of art?”

“Uh, Van Gogh,” he trails off, waiting for your reaction.”Van Gogh’s art.”

“Oh, that kid. Nice one.” You let out a burp, but otherwise sound completely serious.

Taehyung can’t help the laughter that takes over him. It’s not that your reaction was stupid, but it was so unexpected and nonchalantly ridiculous that his brain can only react with laughter. You grumble at him through the speaker, but don’t actually take offense. He laughs for so long that you’re silent on the other line when he finally calms down.

“Sorry,” he wipes at his eyes, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you like that. I just...I’ve never heard anyone do something like that.”

“‘s okay,” your shrug is practically audible.

“Hey, you’re not a camper from the girls’ side, are you?”

“Are you asking if I’m one of Camp Lonely Hearts’ young women?” Your voice takes on a strange lisp in attempt to sound hauty.

“Yes?”

“Well, sadly I’m not. I’m a counselor over there, though.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve talked with one of you guys this whole summer.”

Back in your cabin, you have the walkie talkie resting against your ear after having fallen back into bed. Your feet are at the wrong end of the mattress, but you don’t care because the sound of the deep voice on your little radio is soothing and pairs well with your beer exhaustion.

“Mmm, me too.”

Your breathing slows and evens out, lengthening in Taehyung’s ear. He lays the walkie talkie down then, realizing that you’re probably on the verge of falling asleep. From the sound of it, you probably fell asleep with the ‘talk’ button still activated. He switches his walkie talkie off after mumbling an awkward ‘goodnight’ and lays the device down on the ground near his bed. He falls asleep quickly that night.

*** After waking up slightly hungover but not hungover enough to be without memory of the night before, you panicked.

Whoever this mystery person was on the other end of the walkie talkie, you had babbled dark philosophical nonsense at them for a good five minutes before doing who knows what else. You were so embarrassed you could hardly swallow down the overlooked eggs they served you for breakfast that morning. Being on kitchen duty didn’t help the upset stomach. You felt nauseated by your dopey antics and the smells of the meat and eggs you were frying for the campers’ breakfast.

The only thing that settled your stomach was the resolute plan you made to apologize to the mystery person over your lunch break. You hoped to all that was good in the world that the other person wasn’t a camper that was so scarred by your actions that they already reported you to the camp leader. Although, something about their tone when they asked you if you were a camper the night before made you think they were a counselor like you. It was the nerves and the hint of disappointment that even drunk-you picked up on. Nerves and disappointment about what, though?

With all your musing, you’re spaced out during physical education period and get brained by a volleyball. It’s actually a blessing in disguise because it means you get sent home and don’t have to work the dinner shift. The walk back to your cabin is full of you patting the tender skin of the back of your head while you practice your explanation for why your dignity is still actually intact and why you’re not as weird as you may have seemed last night.

But when you get back to your cabin, you find that you’re more nervous of the idea that no one picks up than the idea that they do pick up to give you a piece of their mind. Still, you switch the device on because you want to explain yourself. The first channel crackles to life again and you press the ‘talk’ button.

***

“I’m telling you, if these kids would just put their phones down, their spinal alignment would be so much better. You ever looked at their little shoulders? They looks like fucking mole hills. Makes me wanna cry.”

Minho is trying as best he can to remain still despite how much the topic of young people’s posture riles him up. Taehyung appreciates the effort, though, as it makes Minho’s silhouette much easier to capture on his canvas. On nights when there isn’t much to do, Taehyung takes out his paints and sometimes gets his older brother to be his model. In exchange, Minho gets to rant to a whole person about the dangers of office chairs on the coccyx or whatever the sexy new topics are in his chiropractors' digest.

Tonight is one of those nights and Taehyung’s managed to fill the canvas with three different poses and has also learned why he shouldn’t ever cross his legs for extended periods of time or diss nursing shoes until he’s tried them. But before he can ask Minho to find another position to hold, the walkie talkie by the foot of his bed fires up; on from when he turned it on as soon as he got back into his cabin for the day.

“Hello? It’s me,” your voice calls tentatively out into the air.

“Ooooh, who’s that?” Minho’s eyes turn into little semi circles as he grins at Taehyung. The mocking coos are inaudible to you because Taehyung hasn’t pressed the ‘talk’ button and he’s glad for that too. He quickly flips Minho the bird before scooping up the little device and leaving to sit on the porch.

Time stretches thin as you wait for an answer. The seconds are long. Long enough that your face is hot with unnamed shame and you’re reaching to switch the device off when—

“Hey. Sorry about the delay.”

“Hey!” You pull back automatically before remembering you’re the one who initiated the call. No backing down now. “So, I’m—I’m sure you remember the other night.”

“I do,” he snickers and recalls the way you’d bumbled around verbally. “Are you back for a repeat performance?”

“Uh, no. I actually wanted to apologize for being so weird yesterday. I was kinda drunk and I didn’t think about the fact that I might be bothering someone by turning this thing on and talking into it.”

“You didn’t bother me.”

“I didn’t?” You were just about to venture into the next part of your prepared speech, but now that you don’t need to, you’re at a loss for words. “That’s...good to hear. Are you sure? I can be kind of a lot when I’m drunk.”

“I really didn’t mind. It was a nice change from—I mean, it was funny. And nice.”

“Nice? I can’t remember the last time someone said I was nice.” The laugh behind your voice is subtle, but it sweetens the tone of your already pleasant words until Taehyung is smiling again.

“Glad to be of service, then,” he shoves a hand in his pocket.

“You sound nice too,” you blurt out. The sound of your feet hitting the floor in a little dance of embarrassment are thankfully too soft to reach Taehyung’s ears. “I mean—”

“Thanks. So,” he clears his throat softly, “do you like jazz?”

From that night on, you and Taehyung begin talking with one another via walkie talkie. Every night, a few hours before sunset, one of you will send out a little message to the other. Nearly like clockwork. Nearly because there are some nights where the conversation gets put on the back burner. Those were unusual nights, though. On one of those nights, the older counselors wanted to host an ABBA karaoke night with some of the older campers in the dining commons and you couldn’t miss it because 1) the 17-year-olds really like you, and 2) you can completely body an ABBA song despite the fact that you were never an avid fan growing up. Another one of those nights Taehyung couldn’t make it because Minho dragged him out of the room to play flashlight tag in the woods. He didn’t even have time to change out of his paint-stained shirt, much less shoot you a quick warning about not being able to talk. Although you didn’t like being left hanging, when he explained why he was busy the following night, you completely understood. Because, really, how often does an adult flashlight tag opportunity come up?

Even still—on nights like those you both miss each other’s voices.

99% of the time, though, you both make time for talking with one another. When you both are in, you talk about anything and everything. From family and life outside the camp to joke competitions that have Minho snorting to himself from under the covers even though he’s supposed to be asleep. The number of movie and book recommendations you’ve swapped only to find out that the other person was a fan is almost too high to not make you wonder if you’re actually stuck in some cliché young adult summer novel.

These days Taehyung’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Usually he doodles what he thinks you could look like in his Moleskin while ignoring Minho’s weird soft looks or wiggly eyebrows. Sometimes he’s not up for sharing his cool new digital pal with his brother and he’ll migrate outside, to the back of the cabin, and endure the bugs so he can enjoy your voice in peace. The only downside is that Minho won’t let him live it down. The countless jokes about his new lady friend only get worse when Minho slips up one breakfast and lets all the other counselors know that Taehyung’s been avoiding the group to talk to you. The raucous applause was one thing, but Cref’s fake pride that Taehyung managed to capture female attention was enough to have him kicking Minho under the table for his indiscretion. But it wasn’t all that bad.

You’re fairly content with the way things are as well. You’ve managed to get your boombox radio to play a local ‘best of’ jazz station and it reminds you of your myste when you’re not talking with him. It's only until you catch yourself trying to recall Taehyung’s appearance that you realize what you’re missing. That is, you don’t know what he looks like and that makes you feel odd. In theory, people don’t need to know what their friends look like. Pen pals and mutuals on social media sites don’t always know what their internet friends look like and still manage to talk for years and feel a real sense of closeness. But you keep wondering. Is he tall, is he brunet, is he pretty?

The thought keeps plaguing you until one day the question just tumbles out of your mouth. It’s a Tuesday, and you’re getting ready for bed because you have to be up earlier on Wednesdays for the weekly meetings. Taehyung had just been telling you about a flip that the arts director did that morning off the pier. It was a grisly story of broken legs and nose bleeds and how Taehyung  became both the arts and music counselor until further notice. You’d been trying to listen diligently but you couldn’t help drifting off. You’re trying to picture Taehyung’s face solely off the timber of his voice when that same voice blares a little louder than normal in your ear.

“Yo, did you fall asleep on something?”

“How tall are you?”

“Uh,” is all you get back from him. And it’s honestly an appropriate response to such a blunt change of subject.

“Sorry, that was kinda rude of me. It’s just that I realized that you’re probably the closest person to me in this whole camp and we’re not even on the same side of the lake...I just realized I don’t even know your name. And I definitely wouldn’t be able to pick you out in a crowd.”

“That’s—that’s true,” he gnaws thoughtfully on his lip and Minho raises his surprised and bespectacled gaze from a physical rehabilitation manual. “I’m Taehyung.”

He’s not sure how he managed to spend weeks talking with you nearly every night only to never ask for your name. When he was alert and talking with you, he felt no gaps, he didn’t even think to ask. But, Taehyung thinks, maybe the thought came to him when he was on the fuzzy border of sleep and wakefulness. When he was most open and sometimes the yearning slipped out. He doesn’t say any of that to you, of course. He just listens to you reply with your own name and repeats it to you until you’re praising him for the way it sounds on his tongue. Minho makes fun of him and whispers your name in a squeaky voice that’s supposed to be Taehyung’s.

“I like your name,” you chirp. You’re so happy to have one more piece to the puzzle that is Taehyung that you almost forget your original question. “So, Taehyung, what do you look like.”

“I’m 5’10.5,” he starts. “And I have...blond hair. All my friends tell me I have a perfect face–”

“Is that so?”

“–and a great chest-to-waist ratio. I don’t wear makeup, b-but if I did my MAC shade would be NW30.” Minho narrows his eyes at Taehyung, but the younger man simply turns away.

“That’s nice?” You sound a bit baffled by the description as well, but you try to take it in stride and picture it.

The resulting image in your mind isn’t exactly what you expected, but you guess you can’t be surprised that he looked different from how you imagined when you didn’t even know his name. You rattle off your own appearance, though not quite so awkwardly. When you’re finished, you wonder what he imagines with the description you gave. What does he think, you wonder. Do I sound nice?

Taehyung, on the other hand, realizes instantly who you are. You’re the girl that was falling asleep during the first meeting. He remembers watching your head lolling back and forth during the icebreaker and trying to contain his laughter when the camp leader shouted loud enough to wake you. He remembers your boisterous laughter at the third weekly meeting when someone thought it would be funny to round up 5 squirrels and release them into the conference room to watch the mayhem unfold. If he’s being honest, he’s actually more excited with the connection he’s made now. He’s glad it’s you. It makes sense.

“Well, I guess this will make tomorrow’s meeting a little more fun, right?”

“Huh,” he snaps out of deep thought. “Why?”

“Because now we can talk to each other in person.” Your voice is brimming with excitement and it’s easy to hear even through the half mile of distance and the static-y connection. “I’ll be able to find you now.”

“Yeah,” his voice trails off guiltily but you don’t catch onto it because you’re busy smoothing out your sheets.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Taehyung,” you bid him goodnight with extra giddy emphasis on his name now that you can actually use it. It’s cute and should probably bring a smile to his face, but as he turns off the device, he can only purse his lips in frustration.

The sounds of sheets rustling remind him of his brother’s presence and he lets out a sigh, waiting for the lecture that’s about to come.

“So,” Minho begins slowly, “How come the person you described was cousin Jin when she asked you what you looked like?”

“In my defense, I...”

“In your defense, what? I’m really curious about what your explanation is.”

“I didn’t want her to be disappointed. And no one’s ever been disappointed by Jin’s looks, so when I got nervous I just gave her his greatest hits.”

“I heard. The foundation thing was a little much.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Why do you think she would be disappointed?”

“I don’t know. I guess if for some reason the appearance stuff was important to her, I thought it made sense not to leave things to chance. In case that would mess things up.”

“But what if, to her, lying is even worse than having an ‘ugly’ friend,” Minho asks with air quotes included.

“Then...I fucked up big time.” Taehyung holds his head in his hands for a few minutes before eventually looking up helplessly. “But I didn’t do it to spite her or anything.”

“Did you really just do it because you thought she would be disappointed? She doesn’t sound that shallow to me, and I don’t know her like you do.”

“Yes and no,” he groans and tosses himself onto the mattress. “I mean, I wanted to seem good in her eyes. Someone she might...like?”

“Someone she might like? She does like you.”

“Someone she might,” Taehyung eyes Minho softly, “want to be with.”

“Ah,” he nods sagely. “So it’s like that.”

“It’s like that.”

“Then you know what you need to do.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell her tomorrow. During the meeting.”

***

Taehyung figures that the idea of preserving his friendship with you being so important will make confessing his lie to you super easy. But when he lumbers into the meeting room the following morning at 6:30, the nerves take over. He grows silent. He stays silent when you come in looking too chipper for a normal morning meeting. And when you spend the majority of the meeting studying the face of every counselor from the boys’ side of the camp, looking for the man described to you on the phone yesterday and not finding him. And when the meeting officially adjourned and you’re standing around hoping for some sort of explanation. Silent when he eventually slips out while Minho is in the bathroom and someone has started chatting you up.

He knows that eventually he’ll have to face you—figuratively speaking. The floor will probably have a trench plowed into it from where he paces the area in front of his bunk anxiously. Sundown is soon and normally you’d be tuning in at this time to see what his plans are for the night and talk about each other’s days. But as the minutes tick by, his walkie talkie stays quiet. Minho pins him with an expectant look before mumbling something about going to go hang out in someone else’s cabin. Maybe he thought Taehyung would benefit from the privacy, but the empty space on the other side of the room just makes him more aware of how the ball is in his—and only his—court. He picks up the walkie talkie and presses the ‘talk’ button.

“You there?” When he gets no response at first, he presses again. This time, he just calls your name pleadingly. Surprisingly, you pick up.

“Is this Taehyung?”

“What? Yes, who else—”

“Or maybe this is Mr. tiny waist dorito face SPF 30. Can’t tell who’s who these days.”

He ducks his head. The smile in his voice is self-deprecating. “It’s me. Taehyung.”

“What can I help you with this evening?” Your voice is sharper than it normally is, but subtly so. He almost wants you to just yell at him instead.

“I just wanted to say sorry.”

“For friend-catfishing me?”

“Yes. For lying and for not coming clean at the meeting when I first saw you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything at the meeting,” your voice wavers a bit, traitorous in the way it shakes. “I was looking for you.”

“I know. I really was gonna tell you. You can ask Minho. But I just got scared all of the sudden. Like as soon as you saw me, you’d regret the decision to ever talk with me.”

“Tae, I wouldn’t do that. I really...I care for you. Something like that doesn’t just go away because what you pictured in your head isn’t 100% reality.”

Your words are simple, but he feels comfort from them. The grip he had on the plastic of the walkie talkie loosens significantly and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I still haven’t been completely honest with you, yet.”

“What is it now. Do you even work here?”

“No, no,” he chuckles and the sound drives you to chew on your thumb. “When you asked me what I looked like that night, I described my cousin to you.”

“Yes, ok, we’ve established that you’re not really Mr. Dorito head. What else is there,Taehyung, you’re making me nervous.”

“Hear me out.” You huff but otherwise settle for tapping your foot rapidly to channel the nerves productively. “I told you that I did that because I thought you wouldn’t want to be friends with me. But that’s not the only reason.”

“Okay,” you trail off.

“I did it because I thought maybe if you thought I was handsome, it would make it easier for you to, uh, return the feelings I have for you. I...like you. In a like-like way.”

“I see.”

Now it’s your turn to stretch the pause out until Taehyung’s fisting tufts of his hair in his free hand. The walkie talkie is probably going to leave a red imprint on his face from how hard he’s pressing it to his cheek, but he doesn’t even register the discomfort.

“I really don’t like that you lied to me,” you begin. “But, since I really like-like you, you can be on probation.”

The sound of exaggerated gagging sounds from the entryway of the cabin where Minho has been eavesdropping for the last five minutes. Taehyung doesn’t even bother to chastise his older brother for getting into his business and instead lets laughter bubble passed his lips.

Not too much changed after the night you both confessed to one another. Supposedly that’s a sign that you had a good foundation for your romantic relationship. But there are little changes and they’re noticeable. Much to Minho’s chagrin.

Most notably to everyone involved, since that night, the tone of the walkie talkie conversations shifted. Now your voices have become a little more hushed and Taehyung absolutely refuses to pick up the device unless he’s alone, whining until Minho leaves the cabin or is truly asleep. If the talks go on late enough, midnight moonlight lays a forlorn, whispered feel over you both and things become a competition for who can be the mushiest. The air is made of breathy laughs that bleed into sighs and unironic use of ‘No, you hang up first’. It’s all so rosy and the happiness you feel starts to stain your cheeks and smile. The other counselors notice too. A few give you meaningful looks like they’ve caught on. Moe, especially, looks proud to see that the dour cloud that was hovering over you has dissipated some. Others don’t quite have it right. They ask you if you’ve been sneaking weed into the camp. You don’t give up your secret for either of them. Mainly because you could face disciplinary action, but also because you don’t want the next time there’s a meeting to be turned into a spectacle. It’s not lost on you that you still don’t know what Taehyung looks like. But you were being sincere when you said that you didn’t need that to care for him.

Still, the curiosity wears on the edges of your consciousness every now and then. You can’t quite ignore the idea that you guys are sort of dating—that you may have a boyfriend at the end of this summer—and you still can’t tell when you’re in a room with him. Despite this, you feel a visceral attraction to him growing from what was a gentle simmer to a boil the longer you exchange pillow talk with him. At the right moments of the night, your hands itch to feel the solid weight of him, of any part of him. To have something other than the intangible rasp of his voice when he spills his feelings to you over the walkie talkie.

***

The Sunday night before the last week of camp finds you, of course, on the walkie talkie. Unlike all the previous conversations, there’s a bittersweetness that you’re trying to swallow down. You’ll both be busy with preparations for the end of the summer festival where both sides of the camp meet—this year on the girls’ side of the lake—to celebrate a summer well spent. This means you won’t have the time or the energy to talk to one another before the big day. If it wasn’t for the fact that you still hadn’t met up properly, you wouldn’t be bemoaning the brief absence so much. But with the end of the camp session rapidly approaching, questions linger in the air. It’s not clear what happens to what you have with Taehyung once you’re not close enough to use walkie talkies to talk with one another every night. So you cherish every minute you get with the man, even if its just his voice.

“I wish we could just keep talking forever,” you whine half into your pillow, half into the balmy night air. You’re trying your best to combat the heat with your sheets kicked down to your ankles and your lightest sleep clothes on. The tone you use is one you might normally be a little ashamed of, but you’re feeling extra needy.

“I wish we could have worked on the same side of the lake,” Taehyung counters after a quick glance toward Minho’s bed. Still unmade and empty because the man in question went to go smoke on the dock. “This whole separating the camp for the kids’ sake is dumb sometimes.”

“Yeah. I wish I could’ve seen you teaching songs to the kids on the guitar.”

“I wish I could see your face while you listen to the songs I rec’d you.”

“And I wish I could see your paintings.” Taehyung turns back to see the canvas he’d filled yesterday with paint swatches, trying to remember the exact hue of your skin from the first meeting in which he knew you were you.

“I wish we could just see each other.”

“Me too.”

“And touch each other.”

Your mouth drops open wide. He’s been flirty in his own way, but never so outright.

“Oh my god, Taehyung, are you drunk?”

“I don’t drink,” he replies simply. Your cheeks feel too warm and you have to pat you face to give yourself a semblance of control.

It’s not that you haven’t entertained the idea of being intimate with Taehyung, but it was a bit difficult when you still couldn’t match a face to his name. Perhaps that was just a ‘you’-issue, but it frustrates you and, until now, kept you from getting very far with your fantasies. But with his voice in your ear that night, you think maybe you could get there. Already your skin is taking on a feverish heat, sweat starting to prick certain areas.

“What would you do if we could. H-how would you start?”

He palms himself deftly over his shorts and lets his eyes fall shut in indulgence. “Are you in bed?”

“Yes.” Your breath is bated. A hand trails down the top you’re wearing to lift the hem up, exposing the dewy skin of your torso. You pick at the elastic waistband playfully, eager to hear what Taehyung’s plans are for you.

“What are you wearing?”

It’s a benign question, but it still speeds up your heartbeat. His voice is somehow silken in its depth while tugging raggedly at something inside you.

“Um. I’m wearing a camisole and some shorts.”

He hums appreciatively. “Well, first, I’d take off your top. I’d pull the straps off and push the rest down slowly. I’d kiss your neck and your skin all over. Until I get to your breasts.”

Your fingers slide under your shorts to find the crotch of your panties. A growing wet spot greets the searching pads of your fingers. “And then what?”

“Easy, easy.” He smirks. “I’d take my time on you. I bet they’d feel so nice in my hands. Probably soft and warm. I’d put my mouth on them, lick them, suck on them. I’d pinch your nipples until they’re hard and you’re moaning.” Sure enough, a moan floats up through the speaker on Taehyung’s end. “Then I’d kiss your stomach and your hips and then I’d get your shorts off. Are you wearing panties?”

“I am, yeah.”

“Shame,” he pouts. “I’d take those off too. I’d kiss your thighs and then I’d kneel between your legs and I’d taste you. Get you all over my tongue.” His erection throbs with the image and he has to squeeze himself at the base to keep his cool. With his words momentarily halted, you jump in.

“All that sounds nice, but I think I’d like you under me more.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I want you on your back on the bed and I want you naked. And then I want to sit on your face. I wanna grind on your mouth for a bit and then I want to get you in my mouth too.” His breath hitches sharply in your ear. From the sound of it, he’s stroking himself slowly and leaning on and off the ‘talk’ button. “I want to feel you in my throat. I want to gag around you while I stroke you.”

Taehyung’s whines are high as he fights the urge to fuck into his hand quickly and chase the high he feels pulsing under his skin. “Are you—ngh—are you touching yourself?”

“Yes, but I wish it was you. I’ve got my fingers inside, but it’s not enough when I could have you do it. I want you to stretch me out. I wanna ride you after. I’m gonna ride you one day for real.”

“Can’t wait for that day,” he sighs, tossing his head back.

Taehyung spits into his hand to aid the glide. His hand moves quickly over his length, under the fabric of his bottoms. The slick sounds show up in the background noise of your cabin, egging you on. You bring your fingers to the apex of your lips and ghost them over your swollen clit. The first touch has so much anticipation behind it and has your back bowing off the mattress. Like a feedback loop, your moans set Taehyung’s hand in action and trigger his groans, which bring trickle after trickle of arousal down to wet your hand.

“I bet you’d feel so good. You sound so wet, god. You’d probably squeeze my dick so tight and good.”

“What would you do,” you gasp into the little radio, rolling a nipple under your satiny top. “Tell me what you’d do while I sit on your face.”

“I’d fuck you with my t-tongue. And I’d give some attention to your ass. It would probably look so good from where you’d be sitting. Bouncing on me while I fuck your mouth.”

“Fuck, Tae. I want you so bad.”

“I know,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Add another finger for me and play with your clit with your other hand. I want to hear you come. Be loud for me.”

“I’m so close. I’m—”

As soon as you heed his instructions and add another finger, you’re able to re-angle your hand and hit a sensitive spot along your walls. The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes your volume increase by double. Taehyung’s erection jumps at the sound of your orgasm.

“Did you come?”

Your heaving breaths through the speaker are answer enough. He soldiers through, trying to catch up to you. So you help him along.

“If I were with you, I’d hold your dick right on my tongue so I can taste all of it when you come. Or maybe you want to come inside me. To fill me up and get me all sticky?”

“Fuck,” he grunts one, twice and then his mouth drops open as he spurts over his hand. The thick white of his orgasm leaks through the gaps of his fingers to make a mess. His body tenses with a few of the aftershocks before he flops bonelessly into his pillow. “I can’t feel my toes.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while either.”

Taehyung pouts up at the top bunk. “If we were on the same side of the lake, we could have just done this in the same bed. Then at least we’d be immobile together.”

“How romantic.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with taking a lazy day off.”

“Maybe not normally. But with the festival coming up, I don’t think we really have that choice.”

“That’s true.”

“But,” the smile is audible in your voice, coy in its sing-song tone. “The next meeting is coming up soon. And we can maybe see each other there.”

“Yeah, we can.” Sleepiness makes his eyelids heavy, but he fights it as best we can. “I wanna see you so bad. Wanna hold you.”

“We can be really brave and hug in the parking lot outside the admin building.”

“I’d swim across the lake if it meant that was the fastest way to see you.”

“Aww. You’re such a sap when you come.”

“Only for you,” he mumbles. His cheek presses into his pillow as he loses his battle against sleep.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’ve been swamped with preparations for the festival. When you’re not busy avoiding paper cuts while designing decorations for the mess hall, you’re fighting off campers who want you to spoil the movie that the boys have chosen for the group as a whole to watch together. You go to bed at night without word from Taehyung, but you’re too tired and too familiar with the work he’s most likely doing to feel upset about it.

You’re so busy and your mind is so full that you don’t even realize that you should be looking for Taehyung when you go to sit down in the conference room. It’s only when you’re zoning out while the camp leader gets progress reports from the boys’ side that you realize you haven’t heard his voice in several days and you’re still not hearing it during the meeting. So you tap your fingers and wait for the meeting to adjourn. And as soon as it does, you make a beeline for Minho. Despite never having spoken with him directly, you’ve heard enough about him in and out of meetings to know what he looks like. Though, even if you hadn’t heard anything from your fellow counselors, you’d heard enough about him from Taehyung. If you listen carefully, you can almost hear similarities in the way that he and Taehyung talk. You suppose that’s what happens with siblings.

“Hi,” you greet him when there’s a lull in the conversation between him and some older counselor from the boys’ side.

“Hi, yourself.” Minho’s eyes widen as he registers your voice. It’s the only part of you he has direct experience with, but he has quite a lot of experience with it. He takes in your appearance with a grin, happy to finally meet the person who’s ensnared his baby brother’s affections.

“We’ve never met before, but my name is—”

“I know who you are. I hear Taehyung talk on the phone with you every night.”

“E-every night? Like even Sunday night?”

“Uhh,” his eyebrows raise at the sudden question. “No, actually. Not Sunday night. I was staying at someone else’s cabin. Why?”

“No reason. Listen, I just wanted to ask you if you knew where Tae was. I was planning on finally meeting with him face to face, but that...didn’t happen. And there’s not much time left.”

“I mean, there’s always after the summer. You both live in the city.”

You give him a non-committal noise that he doesn’t really like the sound of, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s not about to butt into his brother’s relationship just because he’s older. Even if it seems like you’re maybe not on the same page about what happens after camp ends.

“Well, he’s not pulling another fast one on you if that’s what you’re worried about. He told me not to tell you, but he got sick off bonfire weenies last night. So he’s probably still at home shitting his pants while he makes banners for the festival.”

“Thanks for that.” You blink away the image Minho’s words bring up and focus on the task at hand. “So I guess I probably won’t see him until the actual day of, then.”

“Probably. Since he’s covering the old art director’s tasks in addition to the musical stuff, he’s pretty swamped and this hot dog thing might set him back a bit. He definitely wants to see you, though.”

Minho tries his best again not to overstep and reveal too much. Not about the rampant diarrhea, but about the way Taehyung’s been scribbling frantically in notebooks for tasks that weren’t assigned to him for the fest. Nor does he tell you about the 3 a.m. guitar sessions. Or the tender way he sees Taehyung pick up the walkie talkie sometimes, holding it in his hand as thoughtfully as someone can when running on 5 hours of sleep.

                                                    (Festival Day)

“Come on, we’re gonna miss the concert!”

A camper pulls you by the wrist from the small station where face painting was being held to the center of the makeshift festival grounds where a stage has been set up.

People have been pulling you around since the wee hours of the morning. By now you’re used to just letting your body follow the person pulling you, but the slight twinge in your wrist is starting to worry you. You replace your wrist with your hand and the camper merely pulls you along harder. There’s already a large amount of campers and counselors from both sides of the lake surrounding the stage where some performances are about to take place. Somehow the 11-year-old holding your hand manages to weave you both through the bodies until you’re only a few feet from the platform.

After a juggling act done by two of your favorite campers, a lovely comedy routine where Moe roasted her ex-husband Cref, and a trio of high school yo-yo experts, the prep for the final performance begins. Apparently, Camp Lonely Heart had an anthem that all the campers learned in their music periods so they could all sing together during the final days of the summer. Since you were never present for the music sessions, you didn’t really know there was a song. Luckily for you, Jade gave you a sheet with the lyrics printed on them earlier that morning. You didn’t have any time to memorize them, but you got a good look and they seemed like pretty typical camp lyrics.

You spot Minho making his way to the front of the stage easily. He’s got a small glittery sign that says “That’s my little brother” and a few of the guys around him snicker when he waves it at the counselor and camper on stage. The words on the sign are slow to register with you, so it takes a moment for you to put two and two together to get Taehyung. But you do. And when you do, all you can hear is your own blood rushing in your ears and all you can see is him.

He’s seated with a guitar resting casually in his lap. His hair is long. Longer than you imagined it would be. It’s also lighter than you thought it would be based solely off Minho’s own dark chestnut locks. He’s handsome, though. With the honeyed skin and the large, expressive eyes behind vintage frames to offset the manly geometry of his other features. The young boy next to him on stage must say something nice or cute, because his whole face lights up. You marvel at the boxy shape of his mouth while he laughs.

In the background noise, you hear the camper, Jungkook, make a little speech about this summer and camaraderie and how long it took for him and Taehyung to prepare this original arrangement of the Camp Lonely Heart anthem you’re about to hear. But it all sort of washes in one ear and out the other. Instead you’re watching Taehyung bounce his foot with pre-show nerves and smile occasionally at what the other counselor says. Then he’s being handed the mic and he’s looking out into the audience. You lock eyes after a few beats, and he holds your gaze like he’s trying to see if you know who you’re looking at. Maybe it’s your awestruck expression. Or maybe it’s the stupid smile on your face when his voice comes through the mic and you’re hearing the voice you’ve grown to love pour through something other than shitty walkie talkie speakers. But either way, his back becomes a little straighter while he greets the crowd and tells them he hopes they like the song.

Everything after that is kind of a blur. You don’t sing along and instead watch Taehyung sing back up to Jungkook’s pretty tenor stylings. Minho was screaming when the song ended and threw some snipped sunflowers wrapped in cellophane onto the stage at Taehyung and Jungkook’s feet. In that chaotic moment of applause, you slip out the crowd after making sure Taehyung’s eyes are on you. The path you make is clear: a beeline straight behind the cabins on the trail that leads through the small foothills. With the festival going on and all the campers in one place, counselor supervision has to be tight. No campers allowed past these parts.

After giving him a few minutes to catch up, you can hear his footsteps are close behind you. The trek is short and you come up to step past the gates that open into the camp’s lavender field. It’s been a while since you last visited it, but the smell is just as fragrant and lovely as it was the first time. Your heart rate slows down slightly. Anticipation makes everything in you coil taut, full of sharp and tiny vibrations. You feel giddy. When his footsteps thud softly and finally behind you, you release your breath and turn around.

“It’s you.”

“Me,” he confirms with his palms open like an offering. An offering that you take immediately.

Your launch yourself into his open arms and he huffs as he takes the impact. The hug is tight like you’re worried he’ll turn into mist if you’re not careful. His arms are sturdy around you and he pulls you in even tighter so he can get closer. He runs the tip of his nose along your temple, revelling in the way the summer sun mingles with the scent of your soap and you. It’s a small detail but it’s exciting. Here you are, in the flesh, in all your glory. Your arms and bare legs are covered in small splatters of dried paint from the last minute changes you had to make to some of the decorations this morning. And your counselor’s t-shirt has a few rips and frays in the seams from all the wear and tear it got over the summer. The flyaways in your hair and the way you sway as you hold him are all catalogued. Even in this more life-worn state, he can’t stop looking at you.

You pull back after a long while with your heart still beating in your throat. There were so many things you planned on doing when you first met Taehyung for the first time, but now you’re overwhelmed. Perhaps it’s because, in the back of your mind, you’re worried about time. It feels very fairytale-like, the way you only managed to come face to face on a special occasion. Like a good dream that will come to an end at the beep of an alarm or a fantasy that collapses into tatters at the stroke of midnight. You try to remind yourself that you’re not in a fairytale. This is real life and you have more than midnight because you have the internet and public transportation. But is that enough? You shake the thoughts out of your head, trying to focus on the here and now because it may be all you have.

“I liked your song,” you finally say. Both his hands come up to cup your face.

“Thanks. I practiced a lot for you.”

“It paid off.”

He takes a deep breath and accepts your compliment robotically before letting his eyes flit back down to your upturned mouth. “Can I kiss you,” he sighs.

“Please.”

The kiss doesn’t actually start for quite a few moments. As soon as he has your permission, then he decides to take his time. Your eyes are nearly closed and he admires the pretty shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. Impatience scratches at your nerves, but you try to go with the flow. He tilts your head in his hands like he’s calculating the best angle to kiss you from, knowing he’s driving you crazy from the little frustrated huffs you let out. Chuckling, he ghosts his lips over yours once before fully pressing forward.

As soon as your lips move together for the first time, you both let out twin sighs. Instantly, like a choreographed dance, arms and hands move in tandem to bring each other closer. You experiment with the long hair that flirts with the back of his neck before following its path and dipping your fingers beneath the collar of his shirt. He responds with large hands spreading over the small of your back, fingertips digging in before lifting and then digging in again like a game of  practicing restraint.

You press your chest to his in an effort to get closer to him and unwittingly tease him with the promise of more unexplored softness under your clothes. He opens your mouth up with his own and nudges a subtle rhythm against your tongue. You moan and he mirrors the sound earnestly.

“I don’t think we can make it to the cabins,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“That’s fine,” you lay both hands on his chest and enjoy the firmness you find before pushing him back towards the tall rows of lavender. “I don’t need a bed if you don’t.”

“You’re something else.” He pulls back then with a wet sound. His lips are slightly puffy and shiny from kissing you and you grapple with the urge to bite them. You lose the battle and he shivers at the feel of you nipping at him. “Fuck.”

Once he and you have stumbled far enough back amongst the fragrant bushes and you find a soft enough patch of flattened lavender, you lower yourself to your hands and knees. He scrambles to sit beside you before immediately pulling you back in. You straddle his waist and rest some of your weight on his thighs while you peel off your shirt and bra. His hands smooth over the curve of your side once the skin is exposed, noting the way you arch into his touch. With an inquiring look, your hands move to the fly of his cutoffs. He lays back and then lifts his hips, impressively with you still seated on his lap, to pull his bottoms down and off. You do the same with yours and return to your perch as fast as possible.

Taehyung’s fingers find the soaked center of your panties and you rock your hips against the heel of his palm when he wriggles a finger in experimentally. He lets out a low appreciative whistle at how wet you are. You get wetter still when he grinds up into your clit to get you to lose some of the control you’ve garnered since leading him to the field. The feeling forces you to lean your hands on his abdomen, fingers fisting in his shirt.

“I want you inside me,” your moan shudders with the rhythm of the little circles you gyrate onto his long fingers. “I wanna ride you like I promised.”

“Are you sure you’re ready? We have time until we need to go back for clean up.”

“I know, but I want you to fuck me a couple of times before that happens.”

“I don’t have a condom, though.”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah...You?”

“Yes,” your mouth drops open when he scrubs at a particularly sensitive spot on your slick walls. “And I’m on the pill. If you want, we could...”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I want it,” you assure him.

He takes off his shirt while you massage your breasts and take in more of his body now that it’s on display. The long hair framing his face falls prettily in his eyes after the shirt displaced it. Once it’s off, he pulls your panties to the side to admire the crystalline sheen that coats your lower lips. You shoo his fingers out of the way and pull the fabric to a more ideal angle before lowering yourself onto his length. The skin of his erection is hot to the touch and parts your lips easily. Your hips move in stuttering pushes forward to bump your clit against the swollen head.

“Oh, fuck,” his hands fly up to comb through his bangs. “God, this—you’re so sexy.”

“You are too. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

With that, you raise up just enough to grip his length and line him up with your entrance. Instantly you realize his girth is a bit of a challenge, so you’re not as quick as you’d like when you take him in. But the slick aids things and your pelvises are snuggly slotted together after a few moments and some deep breaths. Taehyung’s hand flies to the slight bulge in your lower belly, enjoying the way he seems to fill you already.

You rest your hands on his ribcage again and get your bearings. With an efficient readjustment of your weight so you can freely work your thighs, you begin bouncing on him with no pretenses. His answering moan is louder than he clearly intended because as soon as it’s out, he bites down on his tongue. It’s clear he doesn’t want to make it obvious where you are and what you’re doing, but he’s having trouble containing himself. There’s sweat already starting to prickle under the surface of his skin and his hands feel restless just minutes into your ministrations.

Taehyung settles for muttering quiet curses and gripping your rapidly circling hips with bruising force. He can barely keep up with the pace you’ve set, but he does manage. He thrusts up to meet your every downstroke, though it’s not without an obscene slapping sound. The fact that he’s so visibly affected by your movements gets you wetter every second until he almost slips out a few times. You adjust your rhythm so that’s not a problem, but your thighs are burning with the effort. Taehyung sees through hooded eyes that you’re losing steam and seizes his chance.

You’ve opted for sitting and grinding with him inside you when he starts to shift. His arms come to envelope you and keep you steady as he sits up. Then you’re suddenly on your back. You want to protest about the dirt, but the ground looked clean and dry and doesn’t make your back itch, so you let it happen. Taehyung repositions himself among your splayed legs, hitching one up to wrap around his hip. He grabs the ankle of your other leg and lifts it slowly, testing your flexibility and giving you time to tell him where your limit is. When your ankle is hovering level with his shoulder, you give him a cheeky smirk at his wide eyed expression. He punishes your silent brag by sucking a rough hickey into the skin just above your ankle before resting it on his shoulder. The very fact that he’s pretzled you like this turns him on and gives him a slight energy boost. He figures you must have stolen some of his life force with the way you rode him earlier.

“Little succubus,” he spits through gritted teeth as he begins pistoning his hips against yours.

You let out a shameless laugh that quickly devolves into a low moan with the way the new angle feels. He’s not going to last much longer if you continue to squeeze around him like you’re doing, but he’s fairly certain you’ll finish first. Certain because his hand moves down between your bodies to tweak at one of your nipples. He noticed earlier how your eyes fogged over while you played with yourself in the same way. Leaning over, he continues to thrust into you while pulling the nipple between his teeth. He rakes over it lightly and your leg tenses before falling back down with a thud. You don’t seem to notice and instead your abdomen spasms with the waves of pleasure that begin lapping at you without ebbing back. The feeling merely builds until it explodes the moment he minutely clenches his jaw and bites. It’s a small amount of pain, but it takes you by surprise and pushes you over the edge.

With your walls milking him, he follows your high soon with his own. His breaths come out in deep huffs in your ear, heavy with bass. You test your limbs and the shifting makes you aware of the come he filled you with. When he pulls out, the sensation grows and you’re moaning weakly as it leaks out. He takes his lower lip in between his teeth as he watches the evidence his orgasm drip from your puffy center. He kind of wants to push it back in with his tongue or his fingers just to watch it drip out again, but he knows you might still be sensitive. So he settles for stroking your hip bone lovingly.

Grabby hands creep into his peripheral vision. It’s you silently asking for him to come lie with you, and he does. He presses sweet kisses against your lips until you sling a leg over his hip and add tongue. His dick twitches with the promise of second round, rubbing against the soft skin of your inner thigh. Normally, he’d need more time between orgasms. But you’re kissing his neck and for some reason the smell of your sweat combined with lavender is a miraculous pairing and has the blood flowing back south. A quick glance at his wrist watch tells him that there’s still a good 45 minutes and he flashes the little screen to you. Your answering grin is the rest of the motivation he needs.

The festival day ended two days ago. Following your rendezvous, you both smoothed out your clothes and shook the grass out of them before sneaking back into the campgrounds smelling suspiciously of lavender and ‘something else’ according to Moe. You managed to somehow avoid her keen nose just like Taehyung avoided his older brother’s wiggly eyebrows.

Clean up was an absolute bitch that night, so you both went to bed without hitting each other up. And the following day was for making sure all the campers were packed up and shipped off to town or picked up by their guardians. That was somehow more exhausting even though there wasn’t any cleaning or sweaty sex involved. It was probably the giant bonfire you had and the 40s you threw back that night with your co-counselors. It was probably the most fun you had with them in a while. You were up into the wee hours recounting all the chaos from the last week and the shenanigans that resulted from having the counselors from the other side of the lake involved. No one mentions you slipping away for over an hour, and for that you’re thankful.

But the headache you wake up with the next day has you silently cursing the whole camp. You don’t need to spend a long time packing, and you’re out of your cabin in record time. Hitching a ride with one of the other early risers, you find yourself at the admin building with plenty of time to kill until you have to walk to the nearest bus stop. There’s donuts and bagels and a basic fruit plate in the conference room and you stealthily sneak some food out while the camp leader interrogates other counselors about how they felt the summer went. You even resort to filling out your evaluation form in the hallway to avoid the camp leader’s hawk-like gaze. You’re still seated on the floor, counting the dots in the pattern on the linoleum tiles, when Taehyung’s characteristic sneakers appear in front of you.

“You going home?”

It’s an awkward question, but it technically shouldn’t be. The last moments in the lavender field were spent with you skirting around his questions about where in the city you lived and what your plans for the fall were. It seemed pointless to tell him all that and act as if you were guaranteed to be able to pick things up where they left off once camp closed for the summer. With your back turned that day, you missed the way Taehyung looked at you after struggling with the feeling of not knowing you. Despite the fact that he felt deep in his soul not more than 3 hours ago that he knew you.

Couple this with the fact that you did have down time after the festival ended, but you said you were busy when you weren’t and you end up where you are now. Suddenly uncomfortable in front of the guy you’d been opening yourself up to for months because you never really got to breach the subject of what would happen when the summer ended. Now you’re realizing these are probably your last moments with what you had with him at Camp Lonely Heart.

“My bus is coming at 2,” you say eventually. He tries one last time.

“That’s hours from now. I can...I could drive you instead. I’m going into the city anyway.”

Yes, your brain wants you to say. Take me home, and then come in and stay with me. You want to utter the words, but your tongue grows heavy and clumsy. So instead you say something stupid.

“The ticket’s non-refundable.”

“Oh.” His head lowers to stare at his own shoes. “Yeah, that’s...I get that. Money, right?”

“Yeah.” You stare down at your shoes. You fight to find a redeemable moment, something lighter to end the summer on. “Hey, uh, look what I brought when I cleaned out my cabin.”

Taehyung stares down at your seated form while you fish through your little backpack for something. He’s not sure why the moment he was dreading before officially meeting you is happening now. The rejection he was hoping to avoid by remaining a nameless, faceless voice is now slowly rearing its ugly head.

“Look!” Your voice is a bit too enthusiastic to come off as 100% genuine, but the sight of the walkie talkie that started it all does make Taehyung smile despite himself.

When he pulls out a matching device from the side pocket of his messenger bag, the uncomfortable atmosphere lifts a little. Minho shows up then, keys jingling in his pocket. He calls for Taehyung and looks at you curiously.

“Are you coming with?” Before you can explain, Taehyung answers for you.

“She can’t. She’s gotta catch the bus.”

“The bus that’s going into the city? Where we’re also headed,” Minho asks with an incredulous smile that’s got none of the usual sweetness in it.

He looks at you for a better answer, one that makes more sense, but you don’t volunteer one when suddenly put on the spot. The slump in Taehyung’s shoulders betray the weak smile on his face. To Minho, the whole situation positively reeks of a similar situation his baby brother got into when he was younger and much less careful with his heart. He’s not 100% surprised at you, though. He saw this coming in the last few days when there were no calls from you and Taehyung’s eyes lost their summer shine. Minho pins you with a look of disappointment that you feel deep in your bones before he gives you a second chance.

“Tae, can you go start up the car?”

There must be something in Minho’s voice that you miss because Taehyung surprises you by only hesitating for a second before taking the keys and turning on his heel. You can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time you watch Taehyung leave, but you can’t bear to face him until he’s gone.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I just panicked when he asked if I was coming, so I said no.” He sighs in what you think is understanding, eyes closing momentarily before opening again. This time, his face is slightly more patient. He thinks he knows what’s going on.

“Do you want to ride home with us? With him?” There’s something else in the question, and you see it and grab at it, even though the implications scare you.

“I think so. I want to spend more time with him before I have to go for good. We didn’t really...talk about how this would end.”

“Does it have to end?”

“I mean, you know what they say about summer flings. Plus, this all happened in a really weird environment. Who knows if all of this was only possible because we just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Mm, yeah. It sounds like you guys were lucky in that regard,” he crosses his arms. “But you can take luck and build on it with actual effort and make something solid.”

You open your mouth to protest, but you can’t think of anything to actually say because he’s right. So you pick up your backpack and zip it up and gesture for him to lead the way to the car. A tiny bit of prideful approval bleeds onto his otherwise grave expression. On the way to the parking lot, your mind swirls with thoughts about the ways that this thing could fall apart. About how a summer haze made everything possible or how the distance that can’t be covered by walkie talkies will be the end of you and Taehyung. You look up to catch Taehyung’s profile as he waits for Minho in the driver’s seat. You also catch the way his face goes from a flat mask of indifference to surprise to badly concealed joy at the sight of you trudging behind his older brother. He rolls down the window while Minho makes a beeline for the back seat.

“You’re coming?”

“If that’s okay.” And you do wonder. Is this okay? Can we really do this? Can we make it?

“Y-yeah, of course,” seems to be Taehyung’s answer to all your questions, even the ones unspoken.

While you make your way to the passenger’s side, Taehyung whips his head around to stare at his brother.

“What did you say to her?”

“I’m not telling you, but just know that you may owe me for life after this.”

“Alright,” Taehyung concedes as you get in and strap in for the ride.

Thanks for reading through these collab pieces with me. Plz also go check out the pieces @polaritae wrote on the masterlist link above!!

[writer-rochelle]

Statesman: Ablaze  Ch.2: Off the Grid

(a/n: here is chapter 2 of the one thing im super frickin proud of. thank you @pomelloe-me​ for bullying me in our shared google doc to make sure i get things done. ily <3)

“Can you leave the window down? My car smells like fucking fried chicken, and while it may be your fave food it's not mine.” Alicia said, shutting her car engine off. Pom chuckled, obliging her friend’s request. Both women stretched, their joints popping, as they clambered out of the small car and started their walk up the small driveway. 

The Agents had opted to live as far away from the brewery as they could, wanting to make a safe and work free environment for them to escape to. It was a pale green  3 story victorian house with white accents, and a small front porch. Two white rocking chairs moved slightly in the wind, and a white porch swing on the far right end swayed with them. A black and white rip n dip doormat sat under a black double front door, the words "go away" floated next to a white cat flipping any visitors off. A purchase Pom had made while online shopping in the wee early hours of the night. One that Alicia and Dena had found rather hilarious and Carey had simply shaken her head. 

“I’m gonna murder your boyfriend, he’s as dumb as a fucking rock, I swear it!” Alicia exclaimed, walking towards the front door of the shared home, twisting her head this way and that in a vain attempt to pop her still stiff neck.  She could hear Pom curse at her under her breath. “What was that? Use your words miss ma’am” Alicia teased, knowing Tequila was a nuisance for Pom. He had been Alicia's friend first, and one-day on a whim she had invited them to a carnival accompanying the rodeo that was in town. Soon, the three of them were inseparable. Tequila however soon developed feelings for Pom, his endless pining no secret to anyone. The ex-rodeo clown meant well, and when he wasn't trying to convince the southern beauty to go two-stepping with him, the two got along very well. 

“I said he ain’t my fuckin’ boyfriend,” Pom responded, she was frustrated but smiled all the same. She reciprocated the crush but put her job as a Statesman agent first. She refused to let anyone or anything jeopardize her career. The brunette removed the brown cowboy hat sitting on her head, using it to fan herself in the heat, waiting for Alicia to unlock the front door. 

“Whatever you say!” Alicia sang, throwing the door open. Pom followed the woman into the entryway, shutting and locking the door behind her. The smell of delicious food wafted towards where the two girls stood, as they began dispensing the arsenal of personal weapons they had into their designated shelves in the entryway. Pom hung her hat on the hook on the wall next to the door. Alicia groaned, taking her box braids out of the ponytail she had forced them into, massaging her scalp. 

"I don't know how you can stand having those things pulled back like that!" Pom said, emptying her pistols before placing them back in their holsters. 

"Trust me, one I'm gonna shave my head, and I only kept them in because I spent so much on them for that one assignment. Why waste money? Carey Ann, is that your cooking I smell?" Alicia called, making her way further into the house. She paused a moment, kicking her shoes off in the mudroom off to the left. 

“Yup! I’m in the kitchen, y’all! Make sure you leave your shoes in that mudroom, I just swept!”’ Carey called out to them from the direction of the kitchen. 

Whatever she had been making since she had come home had made the house warm and cozy, the warmth of the oven lightly combating the aircon. Carey was the oldest of the four women living in that house. She had recently moved to New York, assisting Agent Whiskey in running the New York office. Occasionally, she would return to their humble abode in Kentucky. Most household responsibilities fell on her, their other roommate Dena had been away for almost a year on assignment in Europe seeking out an alleged brother agency. Usually, Pom and Alicia were left to their own devices, sticking to take-out orders, or the occasional soup and grilled cheese combo Alicia cooked up. It wasn't often Alicia or Pom cooked, let alone cleaned. It was nice to have their Agent Mom back in town.  

Pom hastily unzipped the sides of her boots, sliding them off to reveal her cute space patterned socks, ‘The best feeling ever is taking your shoes off after a fuckin’ long day of work.’ she thought to herself. Pom’s hair stuck up in odd angles, no secret the hat that had been resting on her head all day. She combed her fingers through it, the brown tresses fell to her shoulders in thick, uncontrollable waves. 

“It’s good to see you here, and not on a fucking screen, ma’am.” Alicia snooped through the pots on the stove, hungrily eyeing Carey’s homemade fried pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mac & cheese warming idly on the stove. Alicia only two kinds of southern cooking, her Grandma Beaulah's, and Carey's (a close second).  

"Yeah, bitch. I thought you might have forgotten about us.” Pom called out from the living room, where she had placed herself comfortably down on the couch, flicking through something on her phone. She sighed, still no response from Whiskey. Had she upset him without realizing it? ‘Fuckin’ Whiskey, I wish he could’ve told me instead of ignoring me like a dumbass.’ she thought, shutting off her phone and tossing it to the other end of the couch.

“Well, if y’all acted 24 and 25 years old and not little children, you wouldn’t need me to come home to cook and clean for y’all. Dena hasn’t even been here and she still keeps her room clean!” Carey teased, swatting Alicia’s hands away from the food. Even if she had been present, Dena and Carey were definitely the neatest of the four. Carey had tried in vain to get the other two younger women to help, even going so far as to leave everything to pile up. It had taken a roach crawling across Alicia's face one night in her sleep to finally get them to step up. Now they kept a chore list on a dry erase board in the laundry room, and the katsaridaphobic agent no longer left dirty dishes in her room. 

“Girl, they’re clean. And for the record, Pom and I do take care of ourselves! For example, I did all the laundry in the house and Pom got rid of that possum that was living in the roof. Perfectly responsible.” Alicia said smugly, giggling as Pom chimed in quietly from her spot on the couch about the ‘Cunt ass possum that tried to eat her fucking face even though she had given him a slice of ham as a fucking peace offering headass’. 

“Pom, why don’t you come join us instead of mumbling with your colorful vocabulary from the couch; the food is ready.” Carey laughed, shaking her head at her roommate's antics. She grabbed the rolls out the oven, before removing her apron and oven mitts. She moved to pull a pitcher of sweet tea out of the fridge, and then stood back proudly to admire her work. Dinner was served. 

“You sound like my fuckin’ mom,” Pom uttered as she hoisted herself up from the couch, making her way into the kitchen to wash her hands. 

“I may as well be. But enough bickering, I missed y'all two!” Carey said, carrying her plate of food to the table where Alicia already sat eating. 

“I’m not really hankerin’ for anything, but thanks, Carey. I love you…fuck head.” Pom told Carey with her unique version of affection, leaning against the island in the kitchen and removing her rusty-colored jacket from her body. Pom's jokes and colorful nicknames were her own brand of love, and while it was offputting the first time she called you something like "hoe bag", you learned to acknowledge the underlying "I love you".  

“Well at least stay and sit with us, I’ve got something to tell y’all,” Carey said, patting the chair next to her. She needed to tell somebody about how she and Jack had recently started seeing each other. She figured he had already told Tequila, and felt justified in telling the girls. Pom sat down in the chair with a grunt after placing her jacket on the table. 

“Oh do tell, this wouldn’t happen to do with a certain mustached cowboy would it?” Alicia batted her eyelids, and suggestively wiggled her eyebrows. Pom knew exactly what this conversation was going to lead to. She wasn’t a fucking idiot; she noticed every small exchange between Carey and Whiskey, it was just something she had an eye for. The two had known each other for over two years and had recently started to go out with each other seriously. It was a wonder they hadn't started fooling around sooner.

“W-well...about that” Carey giggled nervously, maybe she wouldn’t tell them after all. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Carey Ann! Are you fucking Ole Jack Daniels?!” Alicia exclaimed, pointing her fork accusingly at the shorter Agent. Pom couldn’t help herself from letting out a loud chuckle, moving her long legs to sit cross-legged on the chair. 

“Alright, fine. Whiskey and I may or may not have been seeing each other exclusively for the past year while I’ve been back and forth from New York.” Carey said, casually taking a sip from her glass of tea, the clinking ice cubes being the only sound for a brief moment. 

“I fuckin’ knew it!” Agent Rum pronounced with great amusement, looking over at Carey with a menacing smile. 

“YAS BITCH, OH MY GOD! Tell us everything, and I do mean everything!” Alicia said, standing up and playfully pulling Carey into a noogie. 

The girls laughed, Carey pushed Alicia back into her chair before smoothing out her blonde curly hair. Carey was glad that the girls hadn’t reacted negatively like she thought they would. She had missed this comradery with the girls while staying in New York; she leaned forward fully retelling everything that had been happening. It was nice to finally be home. 

* * * * * 

Pom Graham was awake earlier than the rest of her housemates, as usual. Most nights she would stay up until midnight listening to her favorite kinds of music and trying to gain motivation to do her beloved hobby of painting. But she never slept for long as her natural body clock woke her up just a few short hours after she fell asleep. Still, she was always filled with so much energy. 

Pom tip-toed out of her room and down the flight of stairs in hopes of not waking her friends. She was already dressed in her usual outfit that the others rarely saw her out of. The living space downstairs was decorated with rustic, but comfortable furniture and pots of greenery scattered around. Photographs and posters could be found on the walls. 

She threw herself on to the couch in front of the large, technologically advanced television. With a press of a button on the remote, the screen came to life with the morning news channel. ‘Boring.’ Pom thought, ‘Carey must have been watching it last.’

“The daughter of beloved Kentucky senator, Xavier Dobios, is still missing and it’s sending everybody into quite the state of distress…..” Said the monotone voice of the news reporter on the TV. Pom scoffed at his words. 

“Fuck off, ‘beloved my ass’” Pom returned in a sharp whisper, smiling with amusement. She clicked another button and the kid’s channel started to play. Pom never really liked to watch television, but when she did, she would always turn on the channel that entertained her most.

“Good morning, Pomegranate.” Came Carey’s sweet but groggy voice from the doorway leading into the kitchen. Carey was dressed in cute, pink pajamas and her hair was quite the mess. She let out a big yawn. 

“Mornin’, you’re up early,” Pom responded, turning her head to give Carey a nice smile. Carey walked back into the kitchen to start preparing coffee and breakfast for herself and her housemates. 

“What do you want for breakfast? And I know you don’t like coffee, so what do you want to drink?” Carey asked from the kitchen to Pom. She sat there thinking for a moment before answering. 

“Peanut butter toast. And some water. Bless your heart, Carey.” Pom returned gently. Carey was surprised to see how calm she was. She was used to seeing the hot-tempered, mischievous, and swearing version of Pom. But she appreciated seeing this side to her too because Carey knew that’s who she really is. Pom never failed to make her laugh and smile. 

Carey made food and coffee with the sound of Pom watching the kid’s channel playing in the background. Alicia probably wasn’t going to be awake for a few more hours but Carey poured her a cup of warm coffee just in case. 

“I don’t know how you have so much energy all the time, Pom,” Carey said as she sat on the couch next to Pom, handing her the plate of peanut butter toast and a glass of water. She sipped on her own cup of coffee just the way she liked it. 

“I’ve consumed so much fuckin’ sugar in my life that I’m constantly on a sugar high.” Pom joked to her friend, smiling. Carey laughed, the sound mixing the soft sounds of the old Victorian settling over them. It wasn’t often they got a morning to themselves, and they knew they’d have to head to work soon, but for now, HQ could wait.

“GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!” Alicia yelled, bounding in the kitchen shattering the quiet moment the girls had settled into with their breakfast. Carey and Pom sighed, watching as she effortlessly leaped onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her gray sweatpants slung low on her hips, her lilac sleep shirt wrinkled, and her braids still wrapped up in the bonnet on her head; she looked crazy.

“What in Sam Hill are you doing?!” Carey said, standing up and rushing to try and push the taller woman off. 

“I have some good news, bitches! Dena’s coming home sooner than we thought!” Alicia was elated, it had been almost two months since Agent Sangria had been in contact with Statesman, and more importantly her roommates. She had been advised to keep all communications, few and far in between. Should there be a brother agency, it would be in Statesman's best interest to not alert them of their presence in their territory; what if they were a rogue organization? The return of the lively Latina was definitely a cause for celebration. 

“Wait, how do you know?” Carey asked, realizing that Alicia wasn’t budging off her pedestal. She looked over at Pom who looked just as puzzled as she was, no one had any recent contact with Dena. Everything had been dark. Pom got off the couch to get closer to them.  

“Well, as y’all know, I spend most of my free time in the lab with Ginger. And I was able to create a concealable communication device!” Alicia said proudly, taking what looked like a normal bottle of concealer. But the girls knew better, Alicia was a crazy tech wiz and inventor. Her and Ginger both could put Tony Stark to shame.

“How does that shit even work… it’s fuckin’ makeup.” Pom questioned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had set foot in the lab, or the last time she wore makeup. Pom would rather be training and being troublesome with the male agents than behind a vanity or in a lab coat. 

“Listen, I know it looks a little out of sorts but I promise it works! And the cosmetic part of the contraption is fully functional.” Alicia opened the packaging and did a swatch of the makeup on her arm. A perfect match.

“Say we can’t take any phones or even our glasses with us? Who’s gonna suspect a woman with a compact mirror and bottle of concealer? The idea is we use the idea of the fragile female that men have created against them. But my feminist spiel aside, I talked to Dena and she should be here by the end of next week!” Alicia got down from the counter, slipping her “concealer” into the front pocket of her black backpack. 

Pom leaned against the counter as she smiled, "You’re a genius.” She said to Alicia softly.

“I’m no Ginger Ale, but I try! Also, I’ve been making a bat prototype for you in the lab! I meant to surprise you for your birthday but I can’t wait any longer.” Pom smiled at this. Alicia started to continue but paused. The Statesman designated ringtone grew louder from where it was playing on their tv. Well, duty calls.

The three agents made their way into the living room, Carey grabbing the remote from its spot on the ottoman. Once they had all settled themselves on the comfy couch, she pressed the answer button. 

“Good morning, Angels!” Champagne greeted; the great window behind his head visible on the tv screen. It wasn’t uncommon for Champ to contact them while they were at home; saving more discreet missions for the four of them to take care of. It saved time, resources, and quite frankly more lives than if they were to send Whiskey, Tequila, or any of the other male agents instead. Hence the moniker, “Angels”.

“Good morning, Champ!” Alicia crowed, shifting to sling her legs across Pom and Carey’s laps making herself comfortable. Pom hastily grabbed Alicia’s feet from her lap and started to tickle them with no remorse, and her loud and mischievous laughs filled the room. 

“Would y’all stop? Jesus Christ.” Carey said, pushing Alicia’s legs off the couch and inserting herself between her and Pom. “Sorry, Champ, continue please!” Carey said, turning her attention back to the man on the screen. Pom was holding back her laughter as best as she could. 

“Well, when y’all are done horsing around, I have something for y’all to take care of. As you know, the senator is hiding his daughter trying to make it seem like she’s been kidnapped. Tonight, he is hosting a gala to impress some of the big wigs in the country and gain more support. I need y’all to infiltrate the gala and expose this sun’ a bitch before he can carry this tomfoolery on any longer.” 

“Do I gotta dress all fancy and shit?” Pom asked, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. She had makeup, she hated dresses, and if she didn't hate her unruly hair getting in her face, she'd hate doing it too. 

“I would prefer it if you did. The senator is very conservative, and has a strict dress code for this event.” Champagne said. Pom sighed angrily at this. 

“Awe, c’mon, Pomegranate. I thought you liked playing dress up.” the screen expanded to show that none other than Agent Whiskey sat next to Champagne at the grand mahogany meeting room table. 

“Whiskey!” Pom exclaimed with joy. A big grin was on her face now. She tucked her messy waves of hair behind her ears. Pom could feel her heart racing with pure happiness. Whiskey was the closest thing she had to a father, and she practically glowed in his attention. 

“Howdy darlin’, you ready to join your old man on the dance floor?” Whiskey tipped his hat, grinning at the young agent. 

The adopted father and daughter duo were the best partnership to come out of Statesman; Whiskey having taken Pom under his wing, saying that he saw himself in her. A troubled girl who needed a little guidance and TLC, and had unfathomable potential. Whiskey had promised Pom’s mother that he would ensure that the young woman would be taken care of while she was in the states. A promise that had been well kept. 

“While I’m all for sappy reunions, I need you, girls, to get gussied up and make your way to that gala ASAP! I’m sending Whiskey to pick y’all up at 0800, We got a party to crash.” Champagne said, ending the video call. 

Alicia stood and looked at her phone, an invitation addressed to a Penelope Vontrapp, and associates lit up her screen. “Well Miss Pom, or should I say Miss Penelope; it looks like you get to play the part of the daughter of some rich oil tycoon.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not wearing any fuckin’ makeup!!” Pom said while jumping off the couch to sprint up to her room before the others could stop her. 

“YOU’RE LUCKY THEY’RE MAKING A BIG DONATION IN YOUR HONOR! OTHERWISE, I’D BE FORCING YOU INTO A DRESS AND PUTTING SOME BLUSH ON THOSE CHEEKS!” Alicia shouted up the stairs, knowing that Pom was going to put on the same suede pantsuit she wore to all Statesman functions. It would be a cold day in hell before anyone forced her into a dress, and Alicia knew better than to even try and wrestle her into one.  

“Will you curl my hair, please? May as well get some joy out of tonight.” Carey remarked, making her way up the stairs. Alicia noticed the sad air around her friend, she stopped reaching out to grab her friend's arm. 

“What’s wrong? You were all chipper early, now you’re all….” Alicia made a fart noise with her mouth, hoping it would bring a small smile to her Carey’s face. 

“It’s nothing, I promise. Just forget it, okay?” Carey pulled her arm away, continuing up the stairs. But it wasn’t really anything. Was it right for her to feel a little envious that Whiskey hadn’t acknowledged her? Had Champ told him something? Or was she just overthinking? Either way, they had a mission to focus on, and this worrying and pining could wait. 

(a/n: thank you all for reading and standing by while i get in the swing of things. i now have a masterlist, and post with who and what yall can request will be coming soon. <3 roach)

[honeybammie]

momma › jackson wang

↳ babysitting jackson wang’s daughter was not the first option on your list of summer jobs, but it pays well, and how can you complain when you get to see his face every day?  ↳ singledad!jackson, fluff  ↳ wc: 3,733  

Babysitting was not first on my list of potential summer jobs, but “struggling artist” wasn’t paying rent, and my parents were growing tired of my increasing demands, so I had to look elsewhere. Between my list of potential options, including part-time waitress or grocer, Jackson Wang paid the most. I could take care of his two year old throughout the week, he could go to work with peace of mind, and in the evenings I could continue commissioning off my paintings for less than they were worth. Everybody won. 

My first obstacle was the tedious interview process. At first, he called over phone to ask the more basic information of his potential applicants. Name, age, previous experience. I would’ve bet I was the oldest of everyone, and with three younger siblings, I hoped for a slight advantage, but I knew nothing of anyone else vying for the job, so I relied on my crossed fingers for luck. 

The second step of the process included meeting Jackson in person. A renewed sense of hope flooded my veins when he gave me the follow-up call and explained that he’d like to meet me, but the pressure of knowing he was to meet with four other girls did nothing to salve my nerves. Neither did the caffeine in the coffee I ordered when we met. For many of his questions, I had to gather myself. Why did I want the position? What was I studying in school? I blushed peach when I had to answer that I was an art major. No one ever took that one seriously, but Jackson nodded anyway, and after forty-five minutes—had it really been that long?—he thanked me for my time with a smile. 

The third and final step, which came down to me and an eighteen-year-old high school senior, was meeting his daughter, Meilin, the true judge. I met the two of them in a park near his home, Jackson still in his work clothes and Meilin dressed head-to-toe in pink floral. Apparently she picked the outfit herself. The shoes I wore had a flower print, too, one I designed, and this fact pleased her so much I got the job without saying much else. I felt almost guilty. The other candidate may have had every qualification for taking care of a toddler, but two-year-olds cared not for credentials. Evidently, they cared very much for cool shoes. Some things are learned young. 

My second obstacle was trying not to fall in love with Jackson. 

An obstacle much more difficult than my first, despite how little I saw him after the interview process. Every morning I showed up at 7:30, and upon my arrival he handed me a twenty dollar bill for lunch (which I never spent in its entirety and tried to return at the end of the day, but he always declined), told me any play dates or birthday parties I had to attend, and grabbed his briefcase before heading out the door. When he returned at 4:30, he handed me my daily pay, thanked me, and I returned to my apartment. Our paths barely overlapped. 

Still, I dwelled on our meet-up for coffee a number of times. Had he spent so long with the other girls? Maybe he related more to me since I was the oldest, but surely we had little in common other than both being in our twenties. He was a successful single dad, and I had neither success nor children, just an in-progress art degree and an atelier that was just a closet I cleared out for my paintings. Stains covered my carpet even after the immense effort of cleaning, whereas every surface of Jackson’s house was glossy and unmarred. Even if I wanted to have a conversation with him again, I had no idea where to begin. 

Until a month into the job, when upon Meilin was playing dress up for the umpteenth time and Jackson called. 

“Hello?” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder so that I could continue to applaud Meilin as she twirled in circles and fell back into her chair. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” he sighed, breath heavy like he was in pursuit of something. “Can I ask you a favor? I’m caught up at work and need you to watch Meilin for a few more hours. I’ll give you some extra money for dinner and pay you overtime hours.”

“Daddy!” Meilin exclaimed upon hearing his voice, climbing up onto my lap and making grabby hands at my phone

“Hello, honey,” he hummed, like the sound of her voice renewed him after hours of office work. 

“Don’t worry about the dinner money. I didn’t spend any for lunch earlier. What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“I’ll try to be back by 7:30. Thank you for this. How’s Meilin?” 

“Daddy!” she repeated in a similar squeal as earlier, hardly fazed by her father’s news. 

“I think she’s holding up. She was in the middle of her debut fashion show, so you ought to be glad she’s not a diva and made time between changes to talk to you,” I tsked, earning a laugh from him, the sound curling around my heart and constricting. 

“Tell her I appreciate it very much,” he said, “and thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“It’s no problem. Seriously,” I mocked him, and he hung up in haste. At the loss of her father’s voice, Meilin grabbed the phone out of my hand, looking between me and the device, perplexed.

“Where daddy?” she wondered, turning the phone upside down and flipping it over and over. “Daddy home?”

“Not yet. Daddy’s working late, so you get to spend more time with me!” I threw my hands in the air, and she copied the action with a grin on her face, arms high above her head in the most excited display the world had ever seen. 

“Momma!” she giggled. 

I lowered my arms with the sudden shock of my title. Usually she called me my name, or various incoherent versions of it, but “momma” was new, and definitely not close to my real name. “Oh, goodness. Uh...no, not momma,” I stuttered.

“Momma! Dress up!” she pulled her princess dress over her head, throwing it down and running into her closet for what I could only imagine would be another dress. 

Her newfound favorite manner of addressing me continued through the rest of the evening. Even when I took her to a nearby restaurant and cut up her chicken nuggets with a fork, feeding her one tiny piece at a time, she persisted.

“Yum Yum. Here, momma,” she’d say, picking up a piece and shoving it towards my face. A couple passersby even complimented me on how cute my daughter was, only setting her off more. 

I realized I had no idea what happened to Meilin’s mother. Had Jackson been married, or was Meilin perhaps the result of a brief fling? Had her mother died? Abandoned them? I hadn’t considered the possibilities before, but they weighed on my anxious mind as the next few hours passed. 

She ran into Jackson’s arms when he returned, oblivious to how late he had gotten off work. “Good evening, hon. What’d you guys do today?”

“Play dress up! With momma!” She clapped her hands, at which Jackson’s eyes widened and landed on me. 

“I tried to tell her I’m not momma, but she kept calling me momma and I didn’t know what to do, and then people at the restaurant kept saying I had a cute daughter, and...I’m sorry,” I blurted out all in one breath, afraid the subject might strike a chord. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. No harm done,” he chuckled, setting his daughter down. She scuttled along into the living room to play with some toys while he pulled out a wad of money, counting out double what he usually paid me in a day even though I had only done three hours overtime. “I really appreciate you taking care of her, you know? She goes on about you all the time, most of which I can’t understand, but what I do understand is good. She still loves your shoes.”

I wore the same pair every day, and now I looked down at them with redness flooding my face. “It’s nothing, really. She’s great. She makes me laugh more than most people my age.”

Jackson slipped the cash into my hand, smiling gently at me. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Do you mind me asking something else?” I added, almost against my own will, but the question had been beating me down all day, and I had to know. 

“Go ahead,” he prompted, sliding the jacket of his three-piece suit over his broad shoulders and folding it over one arm. 

“Where is her mother?” 

“Oh. She doesn’t have one,” he said with a little shrug. Just like that. So nonchalant. I glanced around me for the presence of, perhaps, hidden cameras. Was he messing with me?

“She...left?” I asked in a low whisper, desperately trying not to offend him. 

He shook his head at me in amusement, pulling out a stool from the kitchen island and taking a seat. “Meilin has a mother, biologically, but she was a surrogate. I...really wanted to have a baby, so I found someone and after some legal work and nine months of waiting, Meilin was born. I guess a lot of the children’s books we read mention mommies and daddies, and she knew who daddy was, so you must’ve been the closest resemblance to mommy to her.”

“Huh,” I said. Of all answers, I didn’t expect that one, but it was one of the better ones. “I’m glad, then. I was worried her mom passed away or that there was a divorce.”

“No, nothing like that,” he said, “but you’re sweet for being worried.”

I was blushing scarlet now, no longer able to hide it. He was only a few years older than me, but him having his life so put together made me feel like putty in front of him, and the “sweet” rolling off his tongue made me feel like I was stuck in sugary goo. 

“I guess I should get going, then,” I said. “See you on Monday, Mr. Wang.”

“Jackson,” he corrected me. “I’m not that much older than you.”

“Most people don’t call their employer by their first name,” I pointed out. Being on a first-name basis with him was too informal, too intimate. “And we’re not friends or anything. Not to be rude, but—”

“No, I understand,” he nodded, eyes travelling to his daughter. This was usually her bedtime, and she wasn’t playing with her toys with the same energy as earlier. “Give me a moment to put her in bed, would you? I’d like to talk for a few more minutes.”

“Uh, sure.” I wasn’t sure if he was going to fire me or somehow promote me or what, but I sat at the kitchen island as he carried Meilin to her room, her cheek pressed to his shoulder.

“Night, momma.” She waved, and after spending the day denying it, I conceded and waved back, blush still covering my cheeks. I hoped it didn’t secretly bother Jackson. 

He was gone maybe five minutes, and the house doesn’t make a sound. I was used to the constant thudding of feet, of pint-sized chaos roaming the halls, but the space was at a standstill and I had to busy myself by picking up the stray toys left on the living room floor. 

“Oh, please—no, no, don’t worry,” Jackson said when he found me cleaning up, touching a hand to my elbow so that I stood. There was a doll in my hands but he took it and tossed it into the nearby basket of toys he kept in the living room. “You’ve done enough today.”  

“Sorry. Force of habit, I guess.” I folded my hands together to steady myself. Being alone with him was as nerve-wracking now as it was during the interview process. “What did you want to talk about?”

He nodded towards the kitchen, where I returned to my previous seat. I shook my head no when he offered a glass of wine. I’d have to drive home soon, but he proceeded to pour himself a glass and sat down. He always struck me as more of a rum guy—not that I had spent my time thinking about what he liked to drink. Well, not too much time. 

“I don’t know that this arrangement is going to work much longer,” Jackson said, reaching across the table to cover one of my hands with his. My skin froze at the proposition. 

“Mr. Wang—Jackson, please,” I sputtered in a half-thought out attempt to save my job. Not seeing Meilin or him again? Asking my parents for more money? The thought made my heart lurch. “I adore your daughter, and I need this job because I don’t make near enough from painting to sustain myself. If you’re mad that she’s calling me her mother, I’m sorry, and I’ll try to take care of it, but I can’t lose this position.”

He took a sip from his glass, swirling a finger around the rim. “Earlier, you said we weren’t friends, and it made me think of how I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Ouch.”

He smirked a little, tired from a long day of work but still thinking me amusing nonetheless. “Let me finish. I don’t want to be friends with you, but that’s not because I’m your boss. Hell, I don’t want to be your boss, either. I want to take you out sometime—to an art museum or a play downtown or for another cup of coffee with a different context. Even with what little I see of you, I think about you all the time, and I just…”

Jackson’s voice faded out, words lost to him. I’d never been very good at words, either, hence why I pursued artistry instead of English, but I turned my hand over and slipped his fingers through mine. It felt like a good place to start, despite how much my hands were shaking. “I don’t...really want to be your friend either. Or your employee. Ever since we first met for coffee, I’ve had the stupidest middle school crush.”

“As long as we’re coming clean, I knew after our first meeting that I wanted you to be the one to watch Meilin. I had only met with the other girls for fifteen minutes, maybe, but we talked for how long? An hour? When she ended up choosing you, I was happier than it made sense to be.”

“What if she hadn’t?” I implored, hoping he would indulge me.

He rubbed the back of his neck, contemplative and maybe a little nervous, too, a side of him I decided that I liked. “I...might’ve asked you out sooner, actually, or I might’ve talked myself out of the idea, thinking you’d say no. I guess we don’t have to find out.”

“And I’m glad it was me. Meilin is the highlight of my summer.” I smiled at the thought of her round cheeks and moony eyes staring up at me but remembered a moment later that I do need the job. “Listen Mr. — Jackson.” 

“Mr. Jackson,” he interrupted, chuckling.

“Shut up,” I scoffed. “This is serious. I need money somehow, and if I’m not watching Meilin, I’m out of luck.”

“Then let me help you with some of your art. I’ll buy a few pieces off of you for however much you need or want for them—just enough to give you a jumpstart and afford rent while you look for another job,” he suggested.

“I want to date you, not for you to be my sugar daddy.” 

“I’m not—” he started, but he must’ve seen where I was coming from because he stops short. A pinkish blush started to show on his cheeks. Finally, I wasn’t the only one. 

I didn’t want to date him as long as I was making money from him. My parents taught me not to mix work and personal life, and hooking up with my boss sounded too scandalous for my taste. 

“Give me time to find another job. It’ll take a few weeks, maybe, but then I’ll quit and we can go on a date. Until then, we should keep things professional.” I realized my hand was still in his, and I slipped my fingers away and held them in my lap.

He was silent for a while, and from the way his eyes flitted all over me, he didn’t seem to want to wait. He’d probably take me out right then if he could, and if he asked, I wasn’t sure I had the willpower to tell him no, despite the front I tried to keep from crumbling. “Can I give a suggestion, then?”

“What is it?”

“Wait here,” he said, running upstairs where I knew he had another bedroom and an office, along with other rooms I had yet to step foot in. 

He returned soon after, pressing three business cards into my palm. I filed through, brows furrowed, to see that they were art exhibit coordinators, critics, buyers. Alternatively, all the people I needed to impress. 

“Where did you get these?” 

“I’ve been to a few showcases in my day. I’m not entirely ignorant to the world of art, and I never turn down a business card. You never know when you might need someone you thought you wouldn’t.”

My mouth hung open, entirely ungraceful and no doubt making me look like a fool in front of him. Then, I shook my head. “It still seems like too much of you to—”

“I’m only giving you their cards. You don’t even have to tell them you know me, just that you’re looking for work. If they hate your paintings, they won’t hire you, and if they love them, that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with your talent.”

I tried to refute him. It still didn’t seem fair, but he had a point, and maybe it was selfish of me but I wanted a date with him soon, and I wanted the validation of someone in the community telling me that I had what it took to make a living from my art. Was that too much to ask? 

“Im Jaebum selects artists to showcase at the art gallery each month. He has a soft spot for young artists just trying to find a way in, and if he really likes you, he’ll showcase you more than once. BamBam runs a section of a popular magazine— focused on art, obviously, and he kind of does what Jaebum does: spotlights an artist or two each edition, gets their name published. You never know who might see your name and reach out. Park Jinyoung is the hardest of them to please, but he’s more constructive than harsh, and you’re in great shape if he likes you. He’s a buyer, too, and pays more than I ever could. He’ll tell his friends about you, too, if you want to commission work.” 

“I don’t...I don’t know what to say,” I stuttered, the cards heavy in my hands with the prospect of chances they might hold, doors they might open. “Thank you, Jackson. Really, I—” 

“You can thank me once you book your first showcase. I’d love to be your plus one.”

“Oh? And who said you would be my plus one?” I teased, but it was taking every ounce of my composure not to throw my arms around him and kiss him silly. 

“Call it my wishful thinking,” he said. “And until then, you can keep taking care of Meilin, and our relationship can remain strictly professional.” 

Right. I had suggested that. So much for kissing him silly. “Yeah. Yes, of course.” I nodded. I’d be sad not to see Meilin every day, but if all went well, I’d continue to see her often.

Jackson looked into the bottom of his wine glass, almost empty, and after a couple beats of silence said, “I’ve probably kept you long enough tonight. I’m sure you’d like to get home.”

You can keep me as long as you want, I thought, snapping back when I caught his eyes on mine. “I’m...yeah. I should be on my way.” We both stood, his movements a mirror of mine. He walked me to the door a few times before, usually while counting my payment, but he had already given me my cash.

“Thank you again for staying late to watch her,” he said while I slipped my shoes on, grabbing my belongings.

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, I’d do it any day.” I waved a dismissive hand at him.

He opened the door. I grabbed my keys. Both of us lingered in the threshold, like he was waiting for me to say something, or like I was waiting for him to. The porch lights set his face aglow, warm evening honey.

“Goodnight, then,” he said slowly, like such basic words were a struggle for him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, goodnight.” I took one step, reconsidered, and looked back at him. “Jackson?”

“Yes?” He hadn’t moved, but his eyes widened with some combination of hope and curiosity.

“I’m having this problem where I really want to kiss my boss, but we agreed to keep things strictly professional for the time being, and I was wondering what you think I should do.”

“Hm,” he considered, and I prayed he wouldn’t tell me just to go home. I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye again. “Do you think he wants to kiss you too?”

My breath hitched. “I hope so.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, the smallest ripple I barely noticed. He was enjoying himself so, so much. “Only one way to find out.”

I hesitated, momentarily afraid of stepping into a trap, but without any semblance of patience, he was reaching for my waist. My fingers found the pulse of his neck and his lips found mine in the lamplit dark. My second obstacle had been trying not to fall in love with Jackson, and I was failing miserably.

[thisolddag]

Our Family Unplugged For 24 Hours. Here’s What Happened.

Back in September, our thirteen-year-old son finally got his own room. We converted the playroom by dragging in his bed and desk from the room he used to share with his little brother. The new “bedroom” still has bins of Legos and Thomas trains and action figures hidden in drawers, and it’s still painted a cheery bright teal, and he let me keep yesteryear scribbly artwork up, and it doesn’t quite fit his current cool, detached teenager image - but it’s got a TV and it is His Own Personal Space. 

From which he hardly ever retreats.

This is the first thing. The fact that we have for all intents and purposes, momentarily “lost” contact with him. It’s normal, I know this - normal to want to burrow away and figure things out in solace, normal for someone who is 13 and looks 16 and is wracked with evolving feelings and changing body. I get it.

But this new room, and this new kid (who is now taller than me) got me missing things. Missing how things used to be before we walked around with devices in our hands. Because the truth is we are - all four us in this house - burrowed away in our own Personal Spaces. Eyes down, time wasted, hours spent scrolling, clicking, forwarding, deleting. Even the ten-year-old who doesn’t have a phone, has an iPad and access to a computer - and so while we still play board games, and eat dinner as a family, watch movies together sometimes - the cold, hard truth is that any leisure time to spare is time spent alone, in some corner, staring down at a screen.

So when I came across Tiffany Shlain’s new book “24/6: The Power of Unplugging One Day A Week” it was like a plea, a dare, and an answer all rolled into one. The next day, I called a family meeting. 

“We’re going to implement a Tech Shabbat. We are going to unplug for twenty-four hours. No iPhones, no iPads, no computers. ALL of us. We will have a landline, a list of phone numbers to call people if we want, and one TV to share, in the family room.”

The ten year old was excited.

The thirteen year old cried.

He shed actual tears, and his reaction - fear, confusion, desperation, fury - further cemented my decision. 

Yesterday was our first unplugged Sunday.

And here are my take-aways.

THINGS THAT WERE SURPRISING

1. Teenagers are resistant and reluctant to use phones for anything other than texting. I had to implore my 13 yr old to pick up the house phone and call his friends (they were supposed to meet up for Superbowl hangout that evening.) “Nobody calls anybody! Nobody leaves voice messages. Nobody checks voicemail!” “They won’t know this number. They won’t pick up.” He was correct on all accounts. I had to call parents and inform them that it was, in fact, our son calling from a landline, that this was no prank. The kids who ended up calling back didn't know to how to greet me. They stammered and hemmed and hawed. The idea that reaching out to a friend did not guarantee a direct connection with said friend, was foreign and stupid and strange. This all blew my mind.

2. The day felt incredibly long and languid. It unfolded slowly. When we get on a device, time is sucked up so quickly. I liken it to being in a casino. Minutes fly by, the whole concept of time is warped, thwarted, eradicated. Many times a day, I take my phone out of my pocket and there I am - Instagram, Facebook, Flipboard, Twitter, Matchington Mansion - and when I slip it back into my pocket, I’m unaware of how much time has passed. An hour? Twenty minutes? I don't register it, and yet, it’s gone in a flash.

3. I didn’t miss the things I thought I would. I didn’t miss social media, I didn't miss news notifications popping up, I didn't even miss the Marco Polos I love exchanging with a group of close friends. I didn’t miss getting emails. I didn’t miss looking around for my phone or “alone time.” I still had my alone time except it was quieter - an aloneness with my thoughts, observing things instead of being distracted by them. I didn’t miss being available and connected to an outside world. When I started wondering about how someone was doing, I picked up the house phone and gave them a ring. I left a message and hoped they’d call back. It felt freeing. It felt authentic. My husband felt the same. However, our oldest son’s biggest worry was missing out. He still got dropped off at his friend’s house for the SuperBowl party (the only kid there without a phone, I'm sure) and he still had loads of fun. In fact, when I called the kid’s house later that night to check up on him, he sounded energetic and happy and even ended the conversation with “I love you, mom.” But later he mentioned experiencing anxiety - feeling like he was missing out on “something important” by not having access to his phone. To him, having his phone nearby means having his friends nearby. Without it, he feels lost, unmoored. That admission made me think about how hard it is for our kids, who have grown up used to being “connected” all the time.

4. Landlines are FUN. My friends called a few times, and I would slightly thrill at the sound of a phone ringing throughout the house, and I’d run downstairs to pick up the receiver in time, smiling. As we talked, one friend commented how it felt like we were sixteen, hanging off our beds, twirling our hair, talking about our crushes. 

5. My husband and I worked on a crossword puzzle over coffee and breakfast. I also finished a jigsaw puzzle in one afternoon, which I’d been working on for weeks. I read a lot. My boys lay together on the couch and agreed on what to watch on the one TV we could use. They hung out more than they had in a long, long time. We all felt relaxed. I ended up watching the Superbowl because by 9pm, I was too tired to start another jigsaw puzzle, too tired to read, so what else was there to do? I laid on the couch and learned about fumbles, and touchdowns, and cheered for the Chiefs and I kind of got into it. Who the fuck would have thunk. 

THINGS THAT WERE ANNOYING

1. I couldn’t take pictures. That sucked. 

2. Traveling was unsettling. When the boys went to SkyZone, I didn't like not being able to get in touch with them. Granted, my sister and her husband and kid were there too, and I called her, but still. I thought about car accidents or something random and awful happening while they were out, and I worried about when they’d get home. That kinda sucked too. It felt like an old yet unfamiliar sensation - not knowing what was going on at every single moment. 

3. We couldn't order anything online. We couldn't use GrubHub or DoorDash, or GoogleMaps. We couldn’t just like check the weather with a swipe of one finger. Not having the everyday convenience of being online was a bit of a bother, but we survived. It made me realize that we have gotten lazy about daily tasks, and that part of our brain has BECOME our iPhone. 

4. I snacked a lot. Without my calorie counting and fitness apps to log my food intake, I suddenly found myself snacking on junk. I did work out, but eating that day became a sort of time filler, and the feeling reminded me of quitting cigarettes and turning to food. That was unforeseen, and I did not like it.

THINGS THAT WERE PROFOUND

1. All day, we felt like we were together in the same space. We retreated less often. We felt serene, light on our feet. We settled into feeling bored, or lazy, or inspired. We gave each other more attention but somehow felt less encumbered upon. It was really, really lovely and soothing. Putting away our devices felt like going on vacation. When we went to bed, I felt closer to my husband. I felt like we had truly shared the day. And both us were not exactly looking forward to Monday, because it felt like going back to the grind. Already there was a bubble of anxiety in our chests, a feeling of weight on our shoulders. Also, I had 127 emails waiting for me this morning and not a one of them was something that desperately should have been answered yesterday. So there was that realization too. The world won’t fall apart if you check out for one day.

2. Twenty-fours can change you. It is a small amount of time, yet our 24 hours unplugged felt so incredibly substantial and so behavior-altering that it made me pause and realize just how addicted we have become to always being connected to the outside world via technology. It’s fucking bizarre, if you think about it. 

3. Unplugging and reaping the benefits will only work when the adults in the house do it too. We already have a Device Free day and have had it for years, but it only applied to the kids. It has never felt as pure, and as important and GOOD, as yesterday, when the rules applied to all of us. Taking electronic away from the kids, while being allowed ourselves because “we didn't grow up with this, so we’re not addicted to it” - is like telling someone to go on a diet and eating cake in front of them all day, because well, you personally don't have an issue with weight. Suddenly, it became clear: to be together, we have to do this together.

Moral of the story: this was a pretty amazing experience, as trivial as it seemed to some. If you are feeling burdened, stressed out, fractured, cranky with your kids, your partner - I highly recommend investing in a landline, writing down phone numbers, picking a weekend day, and trying it out. It will feel new and beautiful, and reassuring somehow. Because while there were moments when obviously we went our own ways, did our own thing, we still felt as one. There were no walls, no apps, no texts getting in the way of figuring out and enjoying the day. We were fully present with each other, with ourselves - aware of time but not panicked or confined by it. 

In her book, Tiffany Shlain writes that her family has been unplugging one day a week for ten years now. I don’t know how long we’ll last, but all I know is this - we can’t wait for next Sunday.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer Chapter 27: Into the Void

“Do you make your own dances to music?”

Johann and I made our daily morning walk towards the gym. The sun was peeking out from the heavy clouds. They’d let down a heavy downpour but thankfully it let up before our walk. Johann hated walking in the rain.

“I do. I’m no professional choreographer. But I can’t help but make up some steps if the song is compelling enough.” I replied.

“Have you heard of the song ‘Daily Growing’?”

My eyes shifted in thought. “Not off hand. What’s it about?”

Master List

“It’s about a woman promised in marriage to someone ten years younger than she is. Her father thinks it will secure her future because he’s from a noble family.”

I thought he was looking at me, but when I looked up wasn’t. He was an expert at avoiding eye contact.

“If your... if Robbie asked you to do something like that... would you do it?” He asked.

“Maybe... In a way, I feel like I already have. The truth is, part of the reason I went to Cassell was so I could get a lot of money and give back to my family. We’re poor so...” My use of the present tense sent a pang through my chest and I sighed against it. “But even if I wasn’t poor. This is a common thing among hybrids.”

Johann was silent for a moment. “Yes, this was my experience.”

“Well, in that case, I will listen to the song and try to dance it well. On one condition.” I quickened my pace to step in front of him, walking backwards. “You play music. I’ll dance to the music if you play it. I won’t be able to convey the meaning otherwise.”

Before he could answer, he turned toward the Cassell chapel. The building, set up on a high hill, was visible in most areas on campus. Right now, it was surrounded by a tremendous flock of doves. They swirled and dove about in distress, cooing loud enough to hear from a distance.

 “Is there a hawk?” I asked.

“No. It means that... someone has died.” His voice was even, quiet and low.

“Is that another tradition?”

“No... it’s a fact.” With just a slight lowering of his eyelids, he conveyed an intense worry.

“Someone you might know?” Lu Mingfei’s face popped into my head.

“There were no missions from the Executive Operations department listed, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Do you need to go check on things? I don’t mind training alone if you need to.”

“No. There’s nothing I can do about it. Let’s just go.” He pulled his eyes from the church and continued. I had no choice but to follow. The bell tolled the hour.

Johann was supposed to be teaching me high kicks. But it was not to be. As soon as we had gotten our equipment set up, he looked past me to the door. A tall dark haired man in a navy blue suit stood at the door, hands behind his back. His dark eyes fixed on me. “Professor Schneider requires your presence.”

I looked up at Johann.

“Not Johann Chu. Only you. Alone.” 

I gave a little shake of my head, remembering what happened last time. 

“It’s okay. Go on. I’ll wait.” He put a hand on my shoulder, pushing me forward.

“Okay... sorry.” I gave one last glimpse over my shoulder at him. “I’ll be right back.”

I followed the agent to the Executive Operations department and we descended an elevator into the third basement level. “This area is top secret. Anything you hear here cannot be shared with anyone. Violations will result in severe consequences. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” 

EVAs voice came through the elevator. “Logged.”

The door opened. “Lu-Senpai!” I’d never been so happy to see him. Mine was the only smile.

Professor Guderian, Professor Schneider, Professor Manstein, Principal Anjou... there were no students here. These were all older people. We were the only ones. I took a step closer to Lu, my hand finding his.

Principal Anjou leaned against his desk. “We just lost a dozen people. The situation is critical. A dimensional rift has opened up in Siberia and a dragon’s heartbeat was detected. The team investigating vanished immediately. We have never, in all our history, seen a signature like this.”

“This is the last transmission from the team.” He turned to press play on the recording.

Voices from people I didn’t know. “Have you seen writing like this? This is… completely unrecorded.”

“ We’re submitting as many photos as we can!” The screen in front of us blinked on and I immediately turned away to avoid reading anything.

“The technology attached to these glyphs. What was it used for…?”

“Dragon heartbeat detected! Dead ahead! Retreat!”

“Where did it come from? There was nothing here!”

“Radioactivity levels are rising! This is dangerous! We need to g-”

Silence.

I turned my face into Lu’s shoulder to make sure I didn’t see anything.

“I’m afraid this is all the information I can give you. They were investigating the ruins discovered weeks ago and unearthed a dragon palace under the mountain, older than we have ever seen.”

“That dragon must be eliminated. But it is an unknown threat. Therefore, we are giving this mission an X designation. S-grade levels only.”

I slowly turned my head to look, making sure to keep my eyes to the floor in case the screen was still on.

“I’m not going to lie to you. This is as much about revenge as it is about investigation.” Anjou’s voice was taut with fury and pain. “Destroy the dragon, destroy his palace. We have enough trouble with four lords. We have no need of invasion from a fifth!”

“You’ll be outfitted with the strongest munitions from the Gear Department to get the job done. This mission is top secret. No communication from outside will be permitted from henceforth. You are to leave immediately.”

“At least let me tell Johann not to wait for me.” I pleaded.

“That will be a negative.” Schneider responded, nodding to the person who had escorted me. 

The escort held out one black gloved hand. “We’ll be confiscating your phones and issuing you ones specifically for this mission,” the man said.

I handed over my phone and the agent placed it in a black box. Lu Mingfei did likewise. He was remarkably calm through this, but his hand was tightly squeezing mine.

“Lu Mingfei, we’ll be sending you the map of the known area. We’ll be trusting in you to find the dragon king and destroy it.” Anjou continued.

“Yes sir.”

“Dismissed, and … Godspeed.”

Another agent, female, approached and handed us our new devices. “Just say your name into them.”

“Lu Mingfei.” His device immediately turned on and recognized him as a user.

I stared at the phone. Johann’s voice echoed in my head, his face flashing in a memory. “Meixiu…” 

The phone came on.

Lu blinked. “Eh? I thought you were Charlotte?”

My lip trembled and I swallowed hard. “That’s my English name.”

We took the elevator again and this time went up, all the way to the roof. The door opened to the buffeting wind of a large helicopter with two rotors that was already waiting for us. “Mingfei!” I shouted.

He looked down at me, giving me a thumbs up. He tried to talk but he couldn’t be heard above the engine noise.

We immediately lifted off, hovering over the college and speeding off in an unknown direction. Lu pulled up the map on his phone.

“Hey… Meixiu… or Charlotte? Which do you prefer?”

“Meixiu is my S-class secret name. You can call me that if we’re alone.” I replied. “Johann gave it to me. While I was dead.”

“It’s a good name for you.” He gave me a kind smile.

“Thanks.” My smile felt taut. “So what are we looking at?”

He nodded to me once. “To be honest. I have no idea. They said it's a palace, but usually palaces for dragons are like mazes. They can change shape with moving walls and traps. The prior team probably triggered something and the dragon attacked. We’ll have to be prepared for anything.”

He continued. “You’re not experienced so I’ll tell you. Only people with pure dragon blood can enter dragon palaces. Because this palace is so ancient, it might not recognize the blood of hybrids that aren’t S-class… S-class is the strongest but also the oldest bloodline. That’s why it's so rare.”

“I see. Is that why I was able to open the doors to the last palace?” I asked.

“That’s right. And it was probably why you were chosen for that mission too.” He met my eyes. “This is something only we can do. But we can do it. You’ve been training a lot with Johann. So… you’ll be even better than before.”

I leaned back crossing my arms.. “Since when were you so cool, Mingfei. I remember you crying about drowning in a submarine.”

A blush colored his cheeks. “A lot has happened… since you were gone.” He glanced at the pilot. “I’ll tell you when we’re alone.”

The stress made my stomach roil and I was sick the whole helicopter ride. I let Mingfei read me the mission briefing so I wouldn’t get even more nauseous. After the disaster with the dragon waking in the lab and then my strong reaction to the strange machinery attached to the beast, they dated the tech at around 10,000 years old, deep within the reign of the Dark King and perhaps predating the Light King.

They were in a hurry to unlock these mysteries when the team disappeared.

We arrived at another airport and switched immediately to a plane. We were also outfitted with our supplies, including the explosive. The plane took to the air toward Siberia, chasing the west-bound sun.

With no access to the internet, no access to music or video games, Lu picked up a piece of paper. He wrote something on it.

“We’re probably being watched and listened to on this plane so… maybe not share S-class secrets.”

I gave him a thumbs up.

“So you’re doing okay?” He asked outloud.

“Yeah, I’m alright! I mean.. At least I was this morning… Geez…” I let out a breath.

“Oh I’m glad. You… made quite a splash at the school lately.” He chuckled. “Maybe even more than I did coming here.”

“Oh if you’re talking about gossip? I don’t pay any attention to that. No time.” I forced myself to relax in my seat.

“That’s good. People are obsessed with you. They follow you around a lot. I’m sure Johann keeps a lot of stuff from you too.” 

“Like what?” I looked up at him, crossing my arms.

“I uh... “ He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“No, I wanna know what they’re saying about him!”

“Well… I mean, things really didn’t get crazy until Johann got suspended. Someone got the idea that the reason wasn’t really because Johann was late getting you back, they… thought you two had slept together and got caught.”

My jaw dropped. “For real?”

“Johann didn’t really say anything after that. I think maybe he hoped the rumor would go away but uh… It didn’t.” Lu winced.

“He shouldn’t have to say anything. Anyone who knows him should know…” I crossed my arms and looked away.

“And I know you didn’t mean it but… you’re pretty much hated in the Student Union after what happened with Caesar.”

“Big whoop!” I stared out the window. “Screw him and his club.”

“It is… kind of a big deal. Caesar bankrolls every other student association in this college. Only a few are free functioning.”

My arms tightened around my chest. I rested my head against the cold glass.

He took a breath and broke the news to me. “You’re pretty much… locked out of everything on campus.”

I closed my eyes. 

“Caesar didn’t tell people to do that, but you saw how crazy some people are about him. Caesar…” He hesitated. “He wouldn’t allow them to threaten you. But he’s not going to tell them to like you. At this point, Lionheart is your only option for any club activities.”

“I’m just on a plane about to die for these idiots.” I said hoarsely “Maybe if I die, they can piss on my grave.”

“Hey! Don’t talk like that!” He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me away from the window “Don’t.”

I lowered my eyes. “Sorry.”

“Johann’s waiting for you back home. He… He already lost you once.”

“Sorry…” I whispered.

He let go of me. “I’m sorry I told you.”

“No… I needed to know. I’ll just start my own club then. If that’s how it’s going to be. Club S.”

He chuckled. “Just you in it?”

“Unless you wanna join?” I shrugged.

“I’ll… consider it. But it would be us against the entire school!”

“Compared to what?” I gave a single bitter laugh.

“Point taken.” He huffed through his nose. 

Day turned to night. We got as much sleep as we could. From the Siberian airstrip we took another helicopter to the archeological dig site, a sprawling camp in front of a large cave in a mountainside. As soon as we landed we were ushered off the flight to the entrance and suited up. We weren’t going in through the entrance of the cave but a large hole bored straight through solid rock.

“You’ll be descending nine hundred feet! Once you get down there you’ll be right at the entrance of the palace!” The man, his face ringed by a fur hood, had to shout over the winds blowing in our faces. He shoved a bulky backpack in Lu’s hands.

“Is this a parachute?” Lu finally cracked, fear showing.

“It’s the fastest way to get you in! When it’s time to come back up we’ll toss you down a flying drone!”

“You expect us to jump into that giant hole?”

“We can’t put in spelunking equipment with a dragon down there! The chute opens automatically on a timer. Pull the cord and jump!”

He looked at me, eyes wide. Then he straightened up and smiled. “Okay, I guess that’s the way it is!” 

I was harnessed to Lu, holding onto the equipment, and had a front row seat as we approached the yawning void. I was whimpering and near tears.

“Okay, jumping… One… two… three!” He pulled the cord and leaped.

Both of us screamed all the way down.

[pepperf]

Three Times Jack O’Neill Almost Became A Parent Again

This was gonna be a Five Things fic, about a million years ago. Now I’m setting it free, because I’m never gonna finish it.

These are unedited for my sanity’s sake.

---

"That's it – done."

Jacob lowered the healing device and stepped back, a pleased look on his face. Jack and Janet exchanged glances. "You're done?" asked Jack, watching as the doctor stepped forward, brandishing her stethoscope. "He's better?"

"I feel much better," said Charlie, tentatively. He looked to Jack, who mustered a reassuring smile.

"I bet you do, kid. I knew some of that ol' alien magic would fix you up in no time. Right, Jacob?"

"His system was bad, but not irreparable. The healing device should have been enough. The Reetou made quite a good job of it," Jacob said, eyeing the boy with interest.

"Of him, Jake," Jack said, firmly.

"Yeah." Jacob gave him a straight look. "Believe me, Jack – I understand." After a moment, Jack nodded. He was going to drum it into everyone's heads as often as necessary: Charlie was not a science experiment.

"Well, he's still a sick little boy," said Janet, warningly. She straightened up. "I presume it'll take a little while for the repaired organs to handle everything he's gone through?" Jacob nodded. "I want to run a few more tests," Charlie groaned theatrically, bringing a real smile to Jack's lips, "but from what I can tell, it looks like the healing device has done the trick. If so, it should take a few days for things like your kidneys and your liver, Charlie, to get back up and running normally. After that, and if there are no other problems, I see no reason to keep you here."

"So where do I go?"

Charlie looked straight at Jack, the appeal obvious. Jack opened his mouth, and...

...woke up.

He ran his hands over his face, and blinked up at the ceiling. Damn it. God damn it.

Tomorrow they'd be visiting the Tok'ra, and he'd promised Jake that he'd drop in and see Charlie, see how he was getting on with his new – ugh – symbiote. The hell of it was, Jack now knew what he'd say, the answer to the sixty-four thousand dollar question – the only answer he could give, really... but it was far too late.

---

"You know – uh."

Cassie looked smaller than she'd been in years, tucked in his arms with her face buried in his sweater. Losing Janet had been – well. As hard as it was to contemplate losing one of his team, this was somehow more shocking. She so rarely went offworld, she wasn't supposed to be on the frontline, she was needed... The anger rose up again, he squashed it back down again. He could deal with that later. Cassie had lost a second mother, a third parent. Whatever she needed, Jack was going to be there for her.

Cassie's voice was muffled, and hoarse from the tears she'd been crying. "I know what?"

Jack sighed, trying to find the words. He sucked at this. Really sucked. "Cassie, hon, I know you're technically an adult now, but really – you know, you're kind of SG-1's unofficial daughter anyhow, so if you ever... I'm not saying any of us could replace Janet, but if you needed someone to... I could..."

Cassie sat up, surprise erasing some of the grief on her face. "Jack? Are you offering to adopt me?"

Jack winced. "Kinda," he admitted. "But it's not – it's just if you felt you needed it, okay? I'd be honored to really be your family. You know that, right?"

Cassie smiled, the first genuine smile he'd seen from her in the last two weeks. It turned wobbly, and she quickly buried her head back in his chest. "Thanks, Jack," she said, thickly. "I kind of unofficially adopted you years ago as my, as my dad." She whispered the word. And although he did know that, it still brought a lump to his throat to hear her say it. "I really don't need to make that official. You and the others couldn't mean any more to me than you do already, you know?"

"Okay, sweetheart." He laid his cheek against her hair, cuddling her closer. "I'll just... yell at you to pick up your stuff sometimes, then. For Janet's sake."

She gave a laugh with a sob on the end. "For mom's sake," she whispered. "Yeah."

---

Despite truth ("He is not the oldest." "You know, T, I just don't think they're getting the whole Jaffa thing."), diplomacy ("Listen, as the moral compass of the group, I feel that I ought—" "The what?" "Just shut up, Jack."), and refusals that bordered on outright temper tantrums ("No. No! I won't do it! Tell them, sir. I will not wear that." "I already told them six times, Carter."), they just could not get the people of P20-783 to accept that Jack's "kids" were old and wise enough to look after themselves. The team eyed Jack, who was looking suspiciously bland. It was all he could do to keep a straight face. If he'd known this planet would demand his team were treated like toddlers, he'd have come here a hell of a lot sooner.

"Listen, if it were down to me—" he began.

"You'd have us wear these all the time," said Carter.

Jack paused. "Well, not all the time," he amended. "But either way, it's not down to me, now is it?" His team didn't seem appeased. "It's just until we get home."

"Just until we're out of sight of the city," said Daniel.

"I meant that. I did!" Jack said, as Teal'c narrowed his eyes at him.

Daniel sighed. "Look at it this way," he said, addressing Carter and Teal'c, "we can always say he's crazy, if he tells anyone."

"Hey!"

But eventually, inevitably, they had to put on the harnesses.

If he helped a little too much, they didn't call him on it. He gave one last tug to straighten Daniel's hat, earning himself an evil look, and took up the leads, one for each of his team. He gave them a brisk shake, making Carter and Daniel stumble a little (Teal'c, of course, had his feet firmly planted and wasn't to be budged). Jack resisted the impulse to say "Mush".

"Okay, kids," he said instead, his voice remarkably steady. "Let's go home." And then, because he just can't resist it, he adds: "It's past your bedtimes."

[staytheb]

Like Oh 2.0 - [EPILOGUE] 7 For 7

Previous Chapter: We Under the Moonlight Word Count: 5,208 Summary: It’s the year 2021 now and life’s a little different for both couples as their relationship is officially known.

Like Oh 2.0 masterlist

hello! it’s here. the last chapter just before the 2019 year ends. so the ending got a little revamp from it’s original posting and i’m quite happy with it as it reflects a little more of what happened in those years. but still it’s all fanfiction and just for fun. anyways, i had fun revising this and hope that i can write another long chapter fic in the future. other than that, thanks for being on this journey with me and happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

January 16, 2021. 00:00AM

It's another joyous year for AHGASEs out there! All the baby birds around the world have come together to celebrate and trend another year for GOT7 in the K-Pop industry! GOT7 and the fans alike are celebrating the group's seventh year with the hashtag #Happy7For7GOT7Day, but it is also to celebrate their departure from their former agency, JYP Entertainment. There were lots of speculations about what would happened with all of the members last year and finally it has been all settled out with good terms, especially for the seven members. All the members decided not to renew their contracts with JYP Entertainment and have left the company as a whole shortly afterwards. They will be resuming activities once everything is in order. Anyways, like other groups before them, GOT7 instead had established their own entertainment some time after and would be independently managing themselves under JJAI Entertainment.

The hashtag along with several others have been trending worldwide within four hours and continues to gain lots of love and attention from fans and non-fans alike. GOT7 has surely broken the seven year curse that most K-Pop groups goes through that ends their reign with one another. Still GOT7 is really showing that they can withstand it all as they wish for many more years with one another and to start a new journey as well. Despite all that has happened over the course of their years in the industry, GOT7 is seriously still going strong and AHGASE is definitely going strong alongside them. Anyways, Happy 7th anniversary GOT7! Please head on over to their newly created official twitter and instagram accounts to wish the group a happy seventh year anniversary if you haven't done it yet! Also, please me mindful of your words and only send good thoughts and vibes their way!

~~~~~~~

January 17, 2021. 00:26AM

BREAKING NEWS!

This is just in! Everybody is totally buzzing about it! GOT7 have just recently celebrated their seventh year in the K-Pop music industry with their fan-club, AHGASEs, just yesterday. Although it's barely been a day it seems that the group have something else to celebrate as well for two of its members. In particular it's concerning the two eldest members, Jaebeom and Mark. The two GOT7's members have released official statements from their agency about their personal love life. JJAI Entertainment has revealed that both Mark and Jaebeom have been in a secret relationship since two-thousand and seventeen and decided that now was the right time to announce their relationship status to the world. Both idols have asked for the public, the fans, and everyone else to respect the privacy of their loved ones. If any malicious comments or actions occur, then the idols will not hesitate to take legal action to protect themeselves and their loved ones.

We were able to investigate further without stooping low to get our information and it seems that Mark and his now wife have officially tied the knot just a few weeks back in December on the twelfth of Saturday. The wedding's theme was a Winter Wonderland fantasy of sorts and the ceremony was a small and private one that was held in Los Angeles accompanied by their immediate family, close friends, and a very few selected celebrities who were able to attend the special event. Our reports also states that the couple also has a two-year-old son by the name of Philip. As for Jaebeom, our informant says he just recently proposed to his girlfriend a few days before his own birthday. The couple also has a one-year-old daughter by the name of Alice.

Reactions to the news have been positive, negative, and others left in-between of the two. Many fans are thrilled and wished to hopefully see who these lucky ladies are as well as how the children may look like. Many of them couldn't believe that there are little GOT7 minis running around now. Other fans have voiced out their opinions of being lied to and that the idols shouldn't have waited this long to revealed such big news. Or well more like being in a secret relationship at all as it seemed there's some misunderstanding about a betrayal of being faithful to one another. For the neutral ones some have left comments that it's their life and to leave them alone because they can live it however they like and that the fans do not own them one way or another.

Either way, the best thing about it is that the positive vibes are winning out as fans and non-fans alike are totally wishing for happiness for both couples and that their privacy would remain drama-free as much as possible. Plus, we wanna respect our idols, right? They're just as much as human as we are despite the path they have chosen for their careers. Much so, we also wish the same for the respect that they deserve as the idol life isn't all that what it's cracked up to be. Sure they may have chosen it and knew the consequences, but still there's a need of respect and a boundary, right? Anyways, on behalf of all us here at K-Wave News, we're wishing the couples good vibes along with their little ones and hope nothing but happiness their way!

~~~~~~~

January 17, 2021. 03:57AM

MAJOR UPDATED BREAKING NEWS!

O-M-G! This is just in! I repeat. This is just in. Let the spazzing continue! All the more positive vibes going in with the new 2021 year! Yay!

Although it's only been a few hours since our last update, but we've been notified that both Jaebeom and Mark have uploaded a few things onto their Instagram accounts about their new immediate family from our lovely readers. The boys have just made their account public after having been privated since two years ago. Each upload has already received over two thousand likes, comments, reactions, and the numbers continue to soar despite some not so nice comments making in it as well. It also seems that many AHGASEs are supporting both couples and trying to encourage others to spread more love than hate and even gaining help from other fandoms as well to do so. It's a lovely gesture because these updates are seriously too cute to not love! If you're a hater, then please move on and go and focus on something else. There's no need for any hate whatsoever. Love and peace y'all!

Anyways, Jaebeom has uploaded three images to his account. The first image of the three that he'd shared shows his daughter, Alice, playing with his many adorable cats! The caption that was uploaded with the image reads something along the lines of, 'she loves them more than me TT_TT'. It's safe to say that the cats belong to her now. Ha. The second one is of the idol dad himself holding his daughter who smiles just as brightly as he does. She is honestly way too cute! Baby Alice really takes up after her father as we can spot some faint eye moles on the same side as her father. Of course we're sure the mother is just as beautiful and hope to see her in the future!

Anyhow, Jaebeom has captioned this photo with 'seeing her smile really brightens up my mood'. The last picture is a candid photo of the idol's fiancée eating a green colored macaron ice cream although her face is obscure and no clear view of how she may exactly look like. Maybe he got caught or he just wanted to tease us. Because we all know how much of a great photographer Jaebeom is, right?! So, we better get a clearer image in the future! So yeah, moving on, the caption for this image reads, 'Fate was the green tea macaron ice cream, but Destiny was all her in choosing to be a part of my life <3'. We're sure there's definitely a deeper story behind this and hope to find out in the near future if ever! Just didn't think we'll be able to witness this side of GOT7's leader in this lifetime. We hope we get more!

Now the next taken member, Mark! The oldest of the group and kind of makes sense for him to settle, right? No? Whatever. Moving on. The idol has shared a video and two pictures to his account. The one minute video clip is of the adorable baby, Philip, as he cutely speaks in several languages! He counts up to the number five in English, Korean, Chinese, Thai, Japanese, and even Spanish. Wow. What a genuis child he may be because he's two and I'm totally jealous as I can barely even count in English alone and I barely passed Gerrman in high school. Enough of me, does this mean that the mother knows Spanish and Thai as we all know that Mark doesn't. Ha. Still, there's a pretty high chance the other members could be teaching little Philip too. Lucky guy. Total free language instructors right there.

Anywho, again moving along. The first photo shared seems like a candid shot of his lovely wife smiling and laughing, but Mark got caught or something in the process as she partially blocks her face with one hand while the other hand is used to try and move the device away. It's captioned with 'Always too easy to teased' and several laughing emojis. It's good to know that we're not the only one that has to put up with Mark's antics. Still, who knows how many times she has to put up with him compare to us fans, right? Haha. As for the other picture it's of baby Philip again. This time it shows the child happily smiling while holding the fluffy poodle, Milo, in his loving arms. Mark has captioned the image with, 'I feel like they don't need me anymore when they have each other TvT'. I mean, I don't disagree. I would, too if I was in the same boat.

So what do y'all think? I think it's fantastic. From these latest updates it surely appears that both couples are happy with their lives along with the happiness of their adorable children being total cuteness! Now that the male idols have revealed their actual relationship status to the world and the fans, it seems like that they aren't afraid to share some of those moments with others virtually as well. Still there's no information on the two females the two idols are with and no one else revealing anything else. Like, we don't know their names. We don't know if they were previous AHGASEs or maybe part of some other fandoms before meeting Mark and Jaebeom. Like we don't know anything about them, to be completely freaking honest. Some have gone and done some searching, but it's quite surprisingly nonexistence. Which is kind of surprising as we know a lot of netizens are good at searching up stuff and spreading it around. Right?

So far, all we know is that it's a possibility the two ladies were already friends before the duo had met the two GOT7 members and it bloomed from there on. One rumor suggests that the females were fans and they met at a fansign through connections. Another rumor claims that the females are distantly related to the other GOT7 members and were introduced at a concert. Even one rumor is going around that claims the two women were former JYP trainees and left the company because of the boys. Like who knows though. Anyways, we may never know, but please do show lots of love and support to both idols and their loves ones. Also please respect them and their privacy! If you wouldn't want to be bothered, then why bothered someone that would like the same treatment. So please behave and just act accordingly. Peace and love y'all! K-Wave News, out!

~~~~~~~

January 17, 2021. 9:37PM

"So, Mel, you and JB gonna have an engagement party?" Serena asked her sister while joining her in the kitchen after she had put the children to sleep in their nursery room which was originally the apartment of 503. The sisters had decided to combine both apartments of 501 and 503 to make it like one large unit for them to live in since having their kids. Although of course their other half have been trying to convince them otherwise to move out and to move in with them in their own apartment together for the past year. "Um, dunno yet." Melanie answered as she scrolled through her phone. "We just don't know if we should do it here or somewhere else."

"Somewhere else like where?" Serena inquired as Melanie explained further. "Hmm, back home since I have more family compare to JB." "Hmm true. Then what about the actual wedding?" Melanie shrugged with a sheepish laugh. "Um, again either here, but maybe Hawaii." She then added more as her memory recalled some of the places. "Another one is like somewhere in Europe or probaby Japan." Serena nodded before voicing out her opinion.  "If not, then y'all can just do them places for a honeymoon." "We haven't even discuss our honeymoon plans yet." "Well, y'all still got a long ways to go." "True, we do. I know I'm kinda planning, but JB's schedule is a bit busy so we just need to find time to talk and what not." "Hmm, yeah pretty much."

"Who knew, huh?" Melanie scoffed with a smile a moemnt later as Serena's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Knew what?" "Who knew that you and I would actually find a K-POP boyfriend, then get or become married to them, and later have an actual family. Like I mean, I know I wanted it, but I didn't think you would have it before me when you weren't even wanting it." Serena agreed with an even bigger scoff. "I know right? It's totally crazy. Like you got with JB who didn't want kids, but now the two of you have a daughter. Mark wanted kids and I didn't, but now we have a son." Serena huffed a bit before speaking again. "And like, I never wanted marriage and here I am married and now you're gonna get married like you wanted, too. It's so crazy."

"I know and it's so funny." Melanie stated with a laugh. "You've changed so much because of Mark." Serena rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything as Melanie continued talking. "Do you remember when you had your little weird moment when you ignored Mark for weeks because you were pregnant with Philip?" Melanie reminded Serena who suddenly laughed at the memory. "It was because I was having an idol's baby, Melanie. We weren't even public with our relationship or even married for that matter. Besides we were together for a year at the time and I didn't know what he would have thought or do or think or whatever at the time." She explained before flipping the situation onto her sister.

"How about you when you were pregnant with Alice?" She asked her with a pointed look. "I wasn't the only one freaking out about having a baby and whatever." Melanie rolled her eyes at her sister's words. "I was also having an idol's baby, Serena. Duh." Melanie defended herself as Serena rolled her eyes. "Of course. Your emotions were seriously all over the place." "Yours were, too. Don't deny that." "True and I'm not gonna deny it, but I wasn't as emotional as you." "Right, bullshit. Your emotions were all over the place when you were prego. Don't you remember when you got mad at everything and everybody?" "Uh, no." Serena denied as Melanie glared at her sister with a look. "Seriously?"

Serena shook her head with an aloof expression as Melanie reminded her sister what happened at that time. "Because of your moody self during it all, poor Youngjae didn't want to come over for a month because he was afraid that he'll set you off and take it out on him again." "Oh yeah he did. Shit. I totally forgot about that." Serena recalled with a slow laugh. "Poor Youngjae, but I did make it up to him with new video games." "Yeah, and then you had to do the same thing with the others." "Right. Wow. I don't want to pregnant ever again." "Hmm, you'll have to talk that over with your husband." "We're not gonna talk about shit." "Mmhmm." "Whatever, Melanie." "Anyways, Serena, when are you gonna finally move in with Mark, huh? I'm sure he would love his wife and child with him at the end of the day in their own place."

"Well, honestly," Serena drawled out with an unsure expression, "I would rather not." "Why not?" Melanie inquired before realizing something. "Ah. Is it about the whole thing with the fandom and public eye and all that, right?" Serena nodded with confirmation before speaking with another reason. "Also, Mark lives with that one friend of his and so it's not like he can break his lease so soon since it's too early." Melanie scoffed with a laugh. "It's not like he doesn't have the money, Serena." "Oh, true, Melanie, true, but still he has to pay if he does leave earlier than expected. Besides, I really like this place and don't wanna part with it." "Yeah, I feel you on that. Aunt Julisa did major work to this place and did gift it to you and me after she left." "Mmhmm."

Serena switched the attention onto her sister. "Anyways, what about you, huh? What are you gonna do?" Melanie shrugged with a chuckle. "Seriously, I have no clue, to be honest with you. Like he wants us to live near his parents, which isn't a bad thing, but I guess just like you I don't want to part with this apartment either." Melanie glanced around the place with a tender look and smile. "There's a lot of memories here and I really know this area more than I do anywhere else if I have to move." Serena chuckled at her sister's words. "I do have to agree with you on that, too. I actually like this location more because I know it well enough."

"So, basically, what you're saying is that we're not gonna move out any time soon, right" Melanie stated with a knowing smile. "Yeah, basically." Serena agreed with a chuckle with Melanie joining in the laughter a second later. "The boys will be so sad." "They'll live." "What about Alice and Philip? The kids will be so sad since they've wanted to live with the pets, too." Serena rolled her eyes in good-nature. "Again they'll live, too, and get over it faster than their fathers. It's not like they don't see one another a lot and besides, the kids are still too young to be playing with the animals as they get grabby and the poor critters have to deal with that. Also, I don't want to deal with that on a daily." "Yeah, that's true, but hey, kids are kids."

The sisters looked at the time before looking over at one another with Melanie speaking up first. "I'm surprised no one has called or messaged us about the news being released." She paused to think for a bit before resuming again. "Well except for the ones that lived here as I meant the ones that don't live here." "I'm pretty sure it's because it's too early for them over there and they're still asleep." Serena answered before adding the last part. "And they don't follow K-Pop stuff so they won't see it right away." "Hmm, true, but I'm sure the twins will mention something later since y'know that those two are dating the other two older members, too." Serena laughed upon hearing that. "Oh, yeah, true. Shit, I can't  believe I forgot about that." "How can you forget about Jinyoung and Jasmine while Jeannie's with Jackson?" Melanie mused as Serena rolled her eyes before responding.

"Because I don't care about other people's relationship unless they want me to know about it. Plus, I'm still surprised that Jasmine gave up on Johnny and accepted Jinyoung, which isn't a bad thing, but I really thought Jasmine was gonna stick with Johnny as she had no interest in any other idol, but him." "Oh, my bro, I know, I know. I was hella shocked that Jasmine and Jinyoung liked each other, too. I mean Jeannie always liked Jackson, but I didn't think Jackson was interested in her like that as he wanted to focus more on his life and career, y'know." "Yeah, true, but the boys will be happy when they find out that the twins will be moving back to Seoul in a few weeks."

Melanie nodded happily. "Yeah, I know. Which reminds me, we need to clean out their rooms and make them livable again." "Oh, right. Also need to tell the boys to stay at their own places, too." "Psh, yeah right. It'll be a reunion and a big ass slumber party all over again." "Oh, please, I hope not. We're all too grown for that." "Says, you." "Yeah, I guess, but it's not like I can't deny it." "That's right. We're all family here and have changed for the better." "Yeah, that's true. I mean, honestly, look at how you and I turned out. So I guess things really do change over time for sure when you meet that person that's meant for you." "This girl." Melanie cooed in a teasing manner. "Mark really brought out your inner softie, bro." "I've always been like this."

"Mmhmm." Melanie hummed mischievously as Serena brushed her off. "Whatever, enough about me. Just go plan yours and JB's engagement party so that neither parents have to nag at y'all about the details." Melanie scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "I'm pretty sure I'll have to nag him about all of this. He always just agrees with what I want, but I get he wants to make me happy, but he has to be happy about all of this, too. It's not just about me, but it's about him, too." "Hey, Happy Wife, Happy Life, right?" "That phrase is so overused, but it's kinda true." "For you." "Yeah, basically." The sisters laughed before Serena brought up a serious topic. "I'm just worried about what the fans will do now. I mean, I don't care since they don't know how we look like, but I do care about the boys' health and their careers though."

"I'm pretty sure it's just that the fans have matured over time and become calmer like back in twenty-nineteen. Some of them aren't teenagers anymore." Melanie reasoned and assured her sister. "I mean, the fandom's have been very supportive lately, but then again there are those sasaeng ones that get it over in their heads about things. Still, it isn't as bad as it was before, Rina." "True, Mel, but some are still young minded and closed minded, too. Also the reality for them is the fact that both of them are off the market while two more will be later in the future." "Bro, calm down. Just don't worry about it so much." "I know, Mel, but still, I just do. I can't help it."

Melanie started laughing as Serena frowned at her sister's behavior. "What's so funny?" "I'ma tell Mark that you're worried for him, but won't show it and let him know about it." Serena groaned with her face in her hands. "Ugh, please, don't tell him that. He's gonna tease me so much about it." "Why not? I find it funny." Serena groaned again while looking up at Melanie with judging eyes. "Ugh. To this day my misery is still your pleasure, isn't it?" "Yes, ma'am. It is." Melanie replied with a cheeky smile before speaking again. "But luckily the more positive ones have won out and aren't stressing the boys as much from what I know so far. Fortunately they are doing well and not suffering." "Unless they're not saying anything." "True, but they usually let us know about it though." "Yeah, that's true."

"Anyways," Melanie changed the topic. "I wanna do my hair like this." She showed her phone to her sister. "You think Chloe can do something like that?" Serena gazed at the image before nodding. "Yeah, but she's been busy since she opened her own shop several months ago." Serena went through her phone while speaking at the same time. "Um, just call her tomorrow and I'm sure she'll squeeze you in without any trouble as she works fast and has some skilled workers, too. Try for the early morning or just before she closes." "Alright, cool. I would rather trust her than anyone else." "I know." Serena let out a yawn while standing up. "Well, I'm off to bed. Night." "Night and dream of your precious hubby." Melanie teased as Serena rolled her eyes, but bid her the same thing with a laugh. "No, you dream of your precious hubby." "I always do unlike you." "Mmhmm."

~~~~~~~

January 18, 2021. 2:23AM. Mark~

Serena stirred awake when she felt arms comfortably wrapped them around her waist and pulled her against another warm and familiar body a second later. She slowly shifted her position to face her husband while placing an arm over Mark to rub his back a bit as he cast his wife a tired smile. "Hey." "Hey." Serena returned the same tired smile to him. "What time is it?" "It's almost two-thirty." "Did you eat already?" "Yeah, but I'll eat something proper later today though." "You better or I'll have to come by with packed lunches to make sure you eat properly." "Hmm, now that you mention it that actually sounds like a good plan, Serena." Mark said with a laugh as he hugs Serena closer. "The boys wanted to see Philip, anyways."

"Don't tempt me, Mark. I may leave Philip in your care then." Serena countered nonchalantly as Mark chuckled while entangling their legs together. "I'm pretty sure I've already done a good job with that, Mrs. Tuan. That's why we're married now." "Mrs. Tuan is your mom, Mark. Not me. Technically, I'm still Serena Vorasavane by paper and other legal stuff." She muttered against his chest as she was becoming sleepy again. "True, but you're still known as Mrs. Mark Tuan openly." "Yes, I know and everyone that knows about us, but not to your lovely fans I'm not." Serena replied with a yawn. "Now go to sleep before Philip wakes up in several hours." "Can't you just spend those hours with me before then?" Mark whined affectionately. "I heard that you were worried about my well-being."

Serena inwardly groaned knowing exactly that Melanie had told him of her thoughts, but didn't want to give in to her husband just yet. "You heard wrong and no. Go to sleep. We're already spending our life together forever, Mark. So for a couple of hours without interacting with one another you can deal with it until then." "Still my same tsundere baby girl." Mark cooed although Serena could tell he was still pouting as she chuckled sleepily. "Yes, I am, but please go to sleep, Mark. I'll make it up to you later with those packed lunches." She finally gave in as Mark grinned while placing a kiss on top of her head. "You're the best." "I know. Now sleep." She snuggled up against him as Mark softly squeezed her gratefully. "Make sure to give me triple extra." "Sleep and I will." "Alright." "Night, Mark." "Night, Serena."

~~~~~~~

January 18, 2021. 2:23AM. Jaebeom~

Jaebeom slowly eased himself onto the bed where Melanie was sleeping undisturbed, but she stirred when she felt the bed dipped too low for her liking. She turned to face her fiancé with a tired smile while sitting up. "Hey." "Hey to you, too. Sorry for waking you." He apologized as he leaned over to place a soft kiss onto her lips before making the both of them comfortable while cuddling against each other ready to fall asleep soon. "It's all good, Jaebeom." Melanie assured him before asking him about his day. "How was your day?" "Same as every day, but better now that you're in my arms." "Stop." Melanie chuckled as Jaebeom smiled before placing a kiss on top of her head. "You know you like it, Chaewon."

"Right, like as much as your cats do. Huh?" Jaebeom chuckled as he squeezed Melanie affectionately. "They were a part of my life before you entered." "Yeah, sure. Soon enough it'll all be about Alice and I'll just be an afterthought." "Quite true, but you'll always be my one and only favorite one." "Stop." Melanie said as she playfully smacked Jaebeom with his response just pulling her closer and tangling their legs together. "Don't want to and so you're stuck with me forever and ever." "I know." The female sighed as Jaebeom frowned. "Why does that sound like you're regretting it?" "Because I accepted the fact that I'll have to deal with you for the rest of my life and your cheesy softness. Plus, we have Alice so I can't let her not hang out with her father."

Melanie leaned up to check the time before making herself comfortable against Jaebeom again. "Now go to sleep, please. The baby wakes up in maybe five or six hours, I need enough sleep to deal with her until our nap time." "I'm sorry that I'm not around much to help you in raising our daughter." "It's okay. You're still in her life and she knows who you are, is what matters the most." "I know, I know, but we should have a free day soon and we can go do something as a family." "Sounds wonderful, but we'll talk later as it's too much to deal with right now when I'm sleepy." She told him with a yawn. "Good night, Jeffrey." "Good night, Melanie." Jaebeom smiled as he placed one more kiss on the top of Melanie's head before falling asleep soon after.

[hairringtonsteve]

iii. no plan. [quixotic]

[steve harrington x reader (female)]

series summary: everyone that knew the truth about hawkins lab thought it was over, that it was all over. they thought that the fighting was over, the bad men were gone. the portal was closed. people were safe. you, however, you knew the truth. things were far from over. and they were coming fast.

word count: 8,344 words

a/n: well... hey there! sorry this took ridiculously long to post. life decided to just start doing flips while also ramming my body into the sun repeatedly, but things have calmed down enough that i can actually start writing regularly. i’m madly, madly in love with this chapter. links will be in a reblog of this. i’m queueing it up since i’ll be away tonight, but everything will be set up when i get back!  tw: language

“I’m not getting into a car with him.”  Your finger tapped against the walkie-talkie button as you waited for a response.

Just minutes earlier, Steve pulled up outside of the cabin and walked up to the steps, awkwardly telling you that Hopper had told him to pick you up.

You’d left the door hanging open before angrily striding towards the walkie-talkie in the kitchen.

A crackly sigh came through the tinny speaker on the device, bringing you out of your reverie. “Kid, get in the damn car. Joyce is going to have my ass if you kids aren’t here in the next thirty minutes. It’s just Steve. He’s safe.” You thought back to Seb thrashing in Steve’s arms, the panic that was coming off of him in waves. Your stomach soured.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Yeah, well, you trust me, don’t you? And I trust Steve. So get in the damn car.”

Looking over your shoulder, you eyed Steve as he sat on the ground and watched Seb color something. He pointed out a green crayon for the five-year-old to use, to which Seb rolled his eyes and picked up a crayon that was a shade darker. Steve chuckled, his eyes flickering over to you.

He smiled a little, as though he were trying to disarm you. It didn’t work.

You kept your face stony, instead pressing your thumb against the button. “Fine,” you muttered. “But you’re driving us back.”

“Fine with me, kid. Just get over here.”

You waited, listening to a crackle over the radio for a second, waiting to see if there was anything else. When there wasn’t, you set it down and told Seb to put on his shoes. Glancing out the window, you noticed that Tee was already outside, her finger running over the hood of his car.

“Sorry to… uh, have barged in here. Hopper made it sound like you knew I was coming,” Steve said as he stood up and made his way over to you.

“Well, he didn’t tell me anything.” You stepped past him to get to where your shoes were lying near the front door. Shoving your feet into them, you listened as Seb started chattering to Steve.

“Does your car go fast? Is it good? El won’t let us get a car because we’re poor.” Steve let out a choked laugh. “How much was your car?”

“Don’t ask stuff like that. It isn’t polite,” you barked. Bending down to re-tie your left shoe, you sighed. This was ridiculous. You guys needed to be gathering supplies and heading towards Michigan, not going to someone’s house for dinner.

“No, it’s okay.” Steve ran his fingers through his hair, making the front of it poof up a little. “I don’t know how much it cost. My dad bought it for me for my birthday awhile back.”

You looked up just in time to see Seb stare at him, wide-eyed.

“Your dad bought you something for your birthday?”

“Uh, yeah? Didn’t your dad ever get you something for your birthday?”

Seb opened his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it: “Yeah, he did. But not a car.”

Steve ducked his head at the jibe.

“Let’s go,” you said, starting towards the door.

Steve waited for you and Seb to leave the cabin, shutting the door behind him as Seb raced to the car,

“I call the front seat!” He yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet when he came up to stand beside Tee.

“Nope, you’re in the back with T— Reese.” You bit down on your lip as you raked your gaze over the car. It was nice. It looked expensive.

“How come I’m stuck in the back?” Tee asked, crossing her arms across your chest.

“Oldest gets up front. So get in.”

It took about a minute or so for everyone to get settled in the car. Tee was gently prodding the back of your seat with her foot while Seb had his face shoved up against the window.

“Can we go really fast?” He asked as Steve put his car in reverse to get it turned around.

“Uh, I’m not sure how much Hopper would appreciate me peeling out of here.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve glance over to you, but you pretended not to notice. Instead, you turned your attention to the trees outside, trying to slowly tune out the way that Seb was continuing to chatter on about something to do with going fast and braking.

“So, you like music?” Steve asked as he pulled out onto the main road.

“Doesn’t everyone?” You asked, turning from the blur of the trees outside your window to look at him. He offered you a small smile. You scowled.

“El — Elise — likes Bowly!” Seb offered. The traitor.

You let out a snort despite the fact that it kind of felt like giving Steve a little bit of an edge. “It’s Bowie, Seb. Not Bowly.”

“You like Bowie?” Steve asked, his attention immediately piqued.

You gave a short jerk of your head, something barely resembling a nod.

“I, uh, I have a couple of old Bowie records that you could borrow, if you wanted.”

You paused, remembering the first time you’d heard Bowie. Despite the fact that it had been coming out of a scratchy old speaker inside of some pizza shop somewhere in New Jersey, it had made you freeze. Maybe it had been the lyrics, talking about how we can be heroes just for one day. Or maybe it had been his voice, unlike anything you’d ever heard.

Whatever it had been, it had made him stick with you.

It had made you stop and want to listen to more. You’d heard a smattering of his songs as the three of you had made your way from Montauk to Hawkins, but most of the time it was just the same five or six songs on the radio, whatever was popular.

Just think about how many more David Bowie songs would be on an entire album.

“I’ve got a lot of Bowie records, actually,” Steve said, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. “And some tapes, too. I’ve got Hunky Dory, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, uh…” He trailed off for a moment. “Oh! I’ve got "Heroes" too! That’s a good one.” “Doesn’t matter, Queen’s better.” Steve’s voice shifted into the background as the four words floated through your mind in Alex’s voice, making your fingernails dig into your palm.

“What’s Queen?” You’d asked, frowning up at him. He just laughed and clapped a hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t tell you. You’ve got to figure it out on your own, El.”

“—No thanks.” You blinked, finding yourself talking without having even realized what you were saying. Steve’s face fell as he turned his attention back to the road. A sharp kick hit the back of your seat, making you jolt forward a little. Whipping around, you found Tee scowling at you.

Be nice, she mouthed.

You rolled your eyes.

She gave you the finger.

You settled back into your seat, refusing to give in.

“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow some? I think I’ve got an old tape player somewhere at my house if you’d want to listen,” Steve offered.

You shook your head.

“I mean, I know that the quality is way better on a record than it is on a tape, but tapes are portable. Which is cool. And handy.” Steve was babbling at that point, but you didn’t care.

“Like I said, no thanks. I’m good.”

“I’ll borrow your tape player, Steve,” Tee said, her voice almost too sweet.

“Oh, uh, okay.” His voice was a little unsteady. He shot you a questioning look, but you just let your head fall against the window. You weren’t sure yourself what Tee was trying to pull — other than trying to make you bash your head against the wall.

A beat of silence fell over the car, lingering until it lasted for over a minute. The only sound was coming from the engine. The trees blurred passed before eventually, Steve tried to start talking once more.

“So, Seb, you’re in school, right?”

You stilled, your eyes slipping shut for a moment. Please make something up, Please.

“Nope!”

“Oh.” You didn’t want to risk looking over at Steve, but you couldn’t help yourself. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he bobbed his head a little. “So you’re homeschooled?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s where you go to school, but at home.”

“They’re making him wait a year,” you said. Your words came out a little rushed, but it was better than nothing. You needed to think on your feet faster. “Our parents thought he was a little immature to start kindergarten.”

“I am not imm’ture,” Seb said indignantly.

Thankfully, Steve just chuckled and shook his head. You let out a breath, nice and slow.

“Are you in school?” Seb asked.

“I’m not, actually. I graduated high school last year.”

“What’s graduated?”

Shit, was that a thing that five-year-olds were supposed to know?

“It means I finished high school.”

Seb hummed a soft mhmm. “You must be smart then.”

Steve choked out a laugh as he slowed down and turned on his turn signal. Before the conversation could continue any further, he was pulling into a driveway. Seb scrambled to unbuckle his seatbelt before shoving his head into the front, between you and Steve.

“Is this where they live?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Where else would Steve be bringing us?” Tee asked, doing something to Seb that you missed, but it made him yelp.

His little arm jutted out in front of your face as he pointed to what looked like a pet bowl on the porch. “Do they have a dog?” He asked, trying to shove himself further into the front seat. Steve reached over to put a hand on Seb’s shoulder, easing him back.

“They used to, but not anymore.”

With that, Seb deflated, falling back into the seat. “I wanted to see a dog,” he mumbled. You ducked your head, biting back a smirk as Steve put the car in park and shut off the engine.

You swung open the car door, leaning against the side of the vehicle as Tee and Seb got out. You caught Tee’s wrist as she tried to step passed you, taking care that it was out of Steve’s sight.

“Keep an eye on Seb, okay? Make sure he doesn’t say anything that’ll get us caught.”

Tee jerked herself away from your touch. “Yeah, yeah. I got it. I’m not stupid.”

You blinked, staring as she headed off towards the house with Seb close behind her.

“Siblings, am I right?” Steve asked, coming out of nowhere. You jumped, which made him snigger. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you said, but she just looked a little pissed.”

You raised a brow at him before starting towards the house.

“You have siblings?” Steve asked, raising his voice in what appeared to be a poor imitation of you. “Why no, I don’t. But thank you for asking that, Elise. It was really polite of you.”

You stared at him, something jolting in your chest a little at his wide grin. “Do you ever stop talking?”

He shook his head as the two of you made your way onto their porch. “Not at all.” Seb had left the door hanging wide open, so Steve motioned to the door. “After you.”

The house was already crowded with people when you walked inside. Some were on the couch, arguing about something while the rest seemed to be gathered in the kitchen. Seb headed over to you immediately, pressing into your side as you headed into the kitchen and locked eyes with Tee, who was sitting at the table with a couple of other teens. Steve stepped in, moving passed you towards the cups on the counter.

“Elise, you made it!” Joyce said, making her way over to you. She offered you a warm smile as she watched you take in everyone else. “I know it’s a little overwhelming, but they’re harmless.”

You took in a deep breath as she started pointing to people and saying names.

“Okay, so you already know Hop,” she said, just loud enough for the man to turn around and give you a quick nod before turning back to whatever was cooking on the stove. “That’s Will, Jane, and Mike,” she said, pointing to the three younger-looking teens sitting at the kitchen table. They all turned around and waved. “Max and Lucas are on the couch with Jonathan — my oldest — and his girlfriend Nancy.”

You just nodded your head, trying to take in all of the information. Before you could even say hi, the front door swung open so hard that it hit against the wall. A second later it slammed shut, making Seb jump.

“Hey Stevie, ever think of remembering to pick me up from school today?” A young teen asked as he waltzed into the kitchen like he owned the place. He was scowling at Steve, who casually took a sip from his cup. Steve shrugged.

“I dunno, man. Ever think about not telling everyone and their neighbor to come over to Mrs. Byers’ for dinner?” Steve fired back, earning another scowl.

“Hey, man, this was your idea! Have some giant dinner to impress some girl!”

“Dustin!” Mike snapped, frowning at him. “Can it, man. You’re going to freak them out, you're so loud.”

Dustin looked over to the three of you and gave you a toothy grin. “Sorry,” he said, keeping his voice loud enough to be heard over Steve’s ‘uh — you — it’s not — what are you — uh —’ He glanced over to Steve and snorted before looking back to you. “I’m Dustin.”  

“I’m Reese,” Tee said, piping up. There was a small smile, one that you couldn’t remember seeing before. “This is Sebastian — Seb for short — and Elise,” she continued, motioning to the respective people. “Does everyone call him Stevie?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

The opposing answers came at the same time, with Steve shooting Dustin a glare while the room erupted into some laughter. Seb clung onto your hand tight, pressing his face into your side. He mumbled something that you couldn’t hear, so you tapped him on the shoulder until he looked up at you.

“What’d you say?”

He sighed, as though it was some great big pain to get the words out. “It’s loud.”

“I know.” You carded your fingers through his hair the way that he liked, hoping that it’d make him chill out a little. “We just have to make it through dinner.”

“Hey Elise, you wanna give me a hand with this?” Hopper called, giving you a pointed look. You frowned at him, trying to figure out why he needed you until he mouthed, you good? You rolled your eyes and nodded.

“I’m going to go help Hop, okay?” You looked down at Seb, softening your voice as you spoke.

Seb grabbed onto your hand tight, tugging on it hard enough that you winced. “Don’t go.”

“What about Tee?” You glanced over to where she’d been sitting, smiling a little as she made small talk with Mike and Jane. “Look, she’s making friends. They’re nice, Seb.” Except maybe Dustin, but you kept that to yourself. The kid was probably just a loud mouth.

Will made his way over to the two of you, smiling a little. “Hey, you wanna come check out my board games before dinner? You can pick what we play.”

There was a beat of silence as Seb’s eyes slowly moved up to Will. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together as he watched him. “What’s a board game?”

Hopper called your name once more, causing you to sigh. “How about you go with Will and find out, hmm?”

Reluctantly, Seb nodded. As the two of them headed into the living room, you could hear Seb ask: “Do you play it when you’re bored?”

After that, getting everything ready went pretty fast. Hopper needed your help getting the lasagna out of the stove, but by the time that was done, everything else was on the counter. There were too many people there to actually set the table, Joyce had said, so they were doing it buffet-style.

You still weren’t sure what that meant, but you figured that if you hung back enough, you’d figure it out.

“You not hungry?” Steve asked, coming up behind you. You jumped, and gave a jerk of your head.

“I’m waiting for Seb.”

“Doesn’t he already have a plate?”

You frowned, your gaze sliding from person to person until it landed on Will and Seb. Will had two plates in his hand, and was asking Seb what he wanted at every dish. Unsurprisingly, Seb’s plate was piled high with every single thing that there was.

“He’s going to waste all that,” you murmured, already moving to step forward. A hand on your arm made you stop. But it seemed like the instant it had touched you, it was being pulled away.

“Let him. Mrs. Byers always cooks for an army.” You turned to Steve, noting the blush that went from his cheeks to his neck, and under the collar of his shirt. “Sorry about that,” he added, motioning to your arm. “I’m used to doing it with them.”

“Stevie is the mom of us,” Dustin said, coming out of nowhere. He bumped his shoulder against Steve’s as he grabbed a plate from the table. “At first I thought he was the dad, but then I found out he uses hairsp—”

A sharp elbow to Dustin’s side from Steve cut him off.

“Why don’t you go eat, huh? Stuff your face enough so you’ll shut up?”

Dustin glanced furtively around before looking back to Steve and murmuring, “Dick.”

“Shithead,” Steve replied easily, his voice just as low. The exchange made the corners of your lips twitch. Reaching over to the table, Steve grabbed two plates and handed you one. “C’mon, you gotta eat.”

“Are you mom-ing her too?” Dustin asked as the three of you got in line behind Jonathan.

“No!” Steve said, a little too fast. “It’s just that if she doesn’t get a plate, you guys are going to eat all of the food.” He glanced over to you, watching as you raised a brow at him. “I’m just saying. It’s only mom-ing you if I tell you to eat more vegetables.” To punctuate his statement, he stepped to the side, reaching around Jonathan to grab a spoonful of broccoli and dumped it onto Dustin’s plate. “It’ll help your eyesight.”

“That’s carrots.” Dustin scowled at his plate, although a second later the scowl softened into something resembling a little smile, albeit a reluctant one. The scene reminded you of the nights on the run with Seb and Tee, how you’d have to practically bribe them into eating a banana or an orange.

For the briefest of seconds, you wished that someone would care about you like that.

Shaking your head, you approached the counter and started scooping food onto your plate. Lasagna, garlic bread, broccoli, salad, and more cluttered the countertop.

You were pretty sure you'd seen a cake somewhere on the counter too.

Tee and Seb followed Will, Lucas, and Max into the living room while you hung back. They were being social, making friends, learning how to be real people. They didn’t need you intruding on their time. You looked around the room, a brief, sharp sting of panic zooming through your chest before Steve called your name.

“You going to stand there all night?” He asked, using his foot to gently kick at the chair next to him while he set his plate down on the kitchen table. Somehow sensing your unease, he said, “They’re just in the living room. They’ll be fine.”

You waited for a second and then headed over, slowly setting your plate down. When you sat down in your chair, you scooted it a couple inches to the left, making sure that you weren’t sitting close to Steve.

But after that, things were… fine.

You mostly sat in silence and ate, but occasionally Steve would ask you a question to draw you into the conversation. At one point he got up to grab seconds and came back with two pieces of garlic bread. He was replying to something that Dustin said as he dropped one piece onto your plate.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, picking it up and moving it towards him.

“You practically inhaled the garlic bread. Thought you’d want another piece before Mike decides to scarf down the rest.”

“Yeah, you gotta watch Mike,” Dustin said through a mouthful of lasagna. He swallowed before saying, “One time I watched him eat an entire loaf of homemade bread. Watched him puke it all up, too.”

“Can you not talk about that while we’re eating?” Steve complained as he tossed a single piece of broccoli towards Dustin.

Will walked into the kitchen and set his plate in the sink before turning to face the table. “We’re going to play Life if you guys want to play.”

You shook your head, motioning to your plate. There wasn’t much on there, but it was enough to satisfy Will’s brief questioning stare.

“What about you, Steve?” He asked, looking hopeful. Steve shook his head.

“Nah, man. Elise and I are trying to polish off all of the garlic bread.” He leaned back in his chair, shooting you a quick smile.

Will frowned. “But you always play —” He cut off his words as Dustin made some weird movement with his hand. “Right, yeah. Okay. Well if you change your mind, you can always jump in.”

As Will headed back into the living room, you frowned. “You don’t have to babysit me, Steve. I’m fine.” There was a little line of tension in your voice.

Steve just raised an eyebrow at you. “Why would I babysit someone my own age? I just want to gorge myself on garlic bread.” To prove his point, he reached over to grab the piece of garlic bread from Dustin’s plate and shoved it into his mouth, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

You really didn’t want to, there was no way you were going to —

You laughed. It wasn’t much, barely a huff, but it was something. And Steve noticed. His shoulders straightened a little as he started to smile, his cheeks puffed out with the food.

“Christ, Steve. Chew your goddamn food already,” Dustin muttered, only to have Hopper swat him lightly over the head. “Sorry Sheriff. Won’t happen again.”

Hopper just rolled his eyes. “Sure it won’t.” His eyes slid over the table, resting on you. He raised a brow, a silent question. You okay?

You shrugged your shoulders a little, just enough for him to see. Yep.

In the living room, you could hear Mike’s voice going on and on about the rules of the game.

While you were in the kitchen, Seb was nodding sagely at Mike while the older boy tried to explain the rules to him. He pushed his hair out of his eyes as he tried to see the board better. “But what’s the point?”

Mike stared at him, sighed, and starting explaining it all over again.

It was around the third time that Mike was explaining the rules and the fifth time that Seb shoved his hair out of his eyes when Joyce spoke up. “You know, I’ve got some hair shears in the bathroom if you want a trim, Seb. Would you like it out of your eyes?” He started to nod, only to stop when Tee kicked him in the shin.

“Oh, no. I was wrong. I’m fine,” he said automatically. Joyce looked from Tee to Seb, frowning a little.

“Okay, well you tell me if you change your mind.” She cast an odd glance at Seb before heading back into the kitchen.

“Can someone explain to me the rules again?” Seb asked, frowning at the game of Life that was spread out before him on the floor. Mike started explaining it, but Seb quickly lost interest in the rules, instead focusing on Jane, who was sitting to his left. Her sweater had ridden up and Seb was staring at her wrist intently.

“Where’d you get that?” He asked.

Jane froze for a second before her shoulders slumped back down. “I’ve just had it,” she replied, her voice soft.

“I don’t remember where I got mine, either,” Seb said, leaning over to grab one of the little blue people. He fiddled with it for a moment before looking over to Jane and smiling. “He’s dancing, see?”

“Yours?” Jane asked, her brow furrowing.

“No, this is Will’s.” He held up the blue piece in question.

“No, this.” Her fingers wrapped around her wrist as she stared at him imploringly. “Yours?”

Seb shook his head. “Mine’s behind my ear.” He tapped the back of his left ear. “I’m not ‘upposed to tell people, but you’re like me so it’s okay.” He glanced around quickly, making sure that no one was looking before he lifted up his hair. There the numbers were.

024.

“That’s why Tee, I mean Reese, won’t let me cut my hair. Can’t let people see my name.” Jane stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Right.”

Seb turned back to Mike, grinning as the teen asked him if he understood the game.

Seb grinned brightly. “Nope!”

• • •

You had been following the conversation in the kitchen for awhile as everyone chatted back and forth. Mostly, though, you were interested in the way that Dustin kept making fun of Steve.

“Let me go to the ice cream shop just once while you’re working. I can make so many pirate jokes, it’s not even funny.” Dustin settled back into his chair, a chocolate chip cookie in his hand.

“Oh trust me, it’s never funny. Ever,” Steve shot back, scowling.

“You should see his cute little costume, Elise. He looks like a real skipper, like Gilligan.”

“Who’s Gilligan?” You asked, frowning a little.

“You don’t know who Gilligan is? He’s — he’s Gilligan! From Gilligan’s Island, the TV show!” Dustin stared at you, eyes wide. “Where have you been? Everyone knows who Gilligan is.”

You snagged a cookie from the tray and took a bite, ignoring his question. It’s not like he could’ve known what he was asking, but it still stung a little. So you got up from the table, Dustin’s voice fading into the background as you stepped into the living room. Seb looked enthralled in the board game. Something like jealousy shot through you. He was so good at this, fitting in and making friends. You, on the other hand, get pissed off at the smallest thing and then bail on the conversation.

No wonder you didn’t have any friends.

It was easier to keep moving than to linger in the living room, so you headed into the hallway. There wasn’t much to explore in the house, but there was a little bit that you hadn’t seen yet. The second you were around the corner, though, fingers wrapped around your wrist, making you jerk back.

“The hell are you doing?” You asked as Jane started to tug you down the hallway.

She didn’t reply.

“Where are you taking me?” You snapped, making sure to keep your voice low. You could feel the chaotic emotions swirling around her, moving so fast you couldn’t get a read on any of them. Without meaning to, you focused, feeling a line of blood drip from your nose. “Let me go,” you hissed.

She stopped talking and whirled around, eyes wide as they paused on the blood. “You’re like me.”

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Jane rolled her eyes and shoved up your sleeve. “Like m—” She frowned when she saw the skin. Without a word, she reached for your other wrist, checking that one as well. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” You glanced back, hearing the muffled voices coming from the living room. Occasionally, you’d hear Seb’s high-pitched laugh.

“Hey Elise, Jane? Where’d you guys go?” Steve called. You opened your mouth to reply when Jane jabbed her finger into your stomach. You turned back to her and sighed.

“Look, Jane, I don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? Can’t we just…” Your voice trailed off as she pulled up the sleeve on her own arm. It was the small black ink in the lettering that was so family it made your heart ache.

Three little numbers.

The room was spinning around you as you tried to contain yourself. Had she been at the lab with you at some point, in some other project? Had you somehow missed her while she was there? Did she know Brenner? Did she —

“Jane? Elise? What’re you doing back here?” Steve asked. It was hard to focus on anything other than your own thoughts. Beside you, Jane tugged her sleeve back down. You took in a deep breath as you turned around, Steve starting to talk once more. “You’re missing — hey, you’re bleeding.” He stepped forward, a concerned look on his face.

You huffed out a weak laugh. “It’s nothing, just the dry air.” You reached up to swipe at your nose, feeling the dried blood not budge. “Thanks for showing me the bathroom, Jane.” You looked over to her for a second before back to Steve.

“Right, right. Do your business.” As the words left Steve’s mouth, his cheeks flooded with red. “Jesus, just… ignore me.” Without another moment passing, he whipped around and started down the hall. You could hear him muttering to himself until he turned the corner, questioning his sanity.

Turning back to Jane, you frowned. Your hands were shaking.

“Look, I don’t know what that’s about, but you’re wrong, okay?”

It wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t believe you. Jane just sighed and walked into the bathroom, motioning for you to follow her. After a second, you walked in. The door shut on its own behind you. For a second, it was dark, until the light came on.

By itself.

You looked into the mirror, watching as a little thin line of blood ran from her nose. Just like yours.

“Same,” she said, her voice soft. “Family.”

Family. It was your first instinct to lash out at her, to snap that she wasn’t your family and that she needed to shut up. That your family was gone, that you were trying to get the ones that were left back. But the quieter part of you, the one that sounded an awful lot like Alex told you to be nice, to accept her.  For whatever reason, the two of you were the same.

“Where are you from?” Your voice was scraggly as it came out, the shock making it rough.

“Here. A lab. What about you?”

“A lab in Montauk.”

“Where’s your number?”

Your hands trembled at your side. That was the number one rule — never show your number. You could remember the lot of you — what was left of you — huddled inside an abandoned building after you’d all made it out of the lab. Never show your number, never let anyone see. That’s how you lived. It’s how you survived. But like she’d said, you were the same.

With a deep sigh, you reached up and pulled the hair back from your left ear. You put it behind your shoulder before bending your ear enough so she could see. The ink was more faded than Jane’s was, but the numbers were clear.

011.

Jane reached up to touch it. Her fingers brushed against the tattoo gently, as though any harder and they’d disappear right in front of her. “You’re Eleven too.”

“I am.” Her hand dropped as you spoke and relief washed through you. You wanted to scrub at the area, to cleanse it from any touches. The last person to touch it had been him, when his thumb had pressed against it before he told you to try to get the information from the man again. “But look, Jane… You can’t tell anyone, okay?”

Instantly, she frowned. “Why? Are there bad men after you?”

“Something like that. So you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“They can help you,” Jane said, nodding her head in the direction of the living room. “They helped me.”

“Look, the last thing I want is for more people to get involved with this shit, okay? So you can’t tell a soul.”

There was a beat of silence before she nodded her head, reluctant. Without a word, she grabbed a washcloth and wet it in the sink before passing it over to you. While you wiped away the blood, she did the same with another washcloth for herself.

There was so much you wanted to ask her, so much you needed to know. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, when there was a frantic knocking on the door. Opening it, Tee was standing in front of you, eyes wide with panic.

“What?” You asked. Tee cast a worried glance at Jane, who frowned at her. “Don’t worry about her, just tell me what’s going on.”

“So me, and Dustin, and Lucas, and Max were in the woods, okay?”

“Wait, you went outside and didn’t tell me?” There was a trace of anger in your voice, but you kept it under control. Whatever happened, it was freaking her out.

“Yeah, yeah, yell at me later. But we were in the woods and near the neighbor’s house when this car pulled up into the neighbor’s driveway and these guys got out of the car and — and —” She started breathing heavily, your hand immediately going up to touch her arm gently.

“Just breathe, relax. Whatever this is, we’ve got time. Don’t worry.”

She was shaking her head the second you started speaking. “Two guys — black suits — looking for three runaways from Muncie.”

Your blood ran cold. You’d told exactly one person that you were from Muncie, and at that very second you could hear the low rumble of his voice from the other room.

Had he tipped someone off? How could he have? He said that he wasn’t going to call CPS, and you hadn’t picked up that he was lying about it. Had he gotten ahold of someone else? Had he — were you wrong? Had you fucked up?

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. Whatever you did earlier, it didn’t matter. You just had to get out of there, and fast. Grabbing Tee’s hand, you pushed passed her and dragged her down the hallway. Your eyes searched the living room before landing on Seb. Good. He was inside.

Next, you let go of Tee’s hand before stepping into the kitchen where Steve and Hopper were, along with Joyce.

“Uh, Steve?” You began, something in your chest twitching as Hopper had looked over to you. “Would you mind taking us home early? I just — uh — got sick in the bathroom. A stomach bug, or something.”

“You want me to take you home, and Steve can bring the others back?” Hopper suggested. Your breath caught in your throat. He’s trying to separate the three of you so he can do something or or or —

“No, that’s alright. It’s getting close to Seb’s bedtime.” You looked over to Steve, pleading with him silently. It’d probably draw too much attention to try to use you powers on all three of them at the same time. Maybe by some miracle, he’d help you out.

“I can take them, Hopper. No big deal. I was thinking about heading home anyway,” Steve said, his voice a little too loud to you.

Hopper looked between the two of you for a minute before shrugging his shoulders.  “If you don’t mind, Elise, I’m fine with it. You guys want breakfast tomorrow?”

You gave a nod of your head. “Yeah. Sure. That’ll be fine. Thanks.”

You glanced back towards the living room where Tee was already getting Seb’s shoes on. He shot you a frown, decidedly unhappy with your choice to leave. A board game was sprawled out on the floor, the rest of the kids looking at you with varying degrees of confusion.

“Are you sure we can’t finish playing Life?” Will asked, giving you a hopeful grin.

“Sorry, man, but Elise isn’t feeling all that great,” Steve said, coming up behind you. You turned around, quirking a brow at him as he asked, “You ready to go?”

The next twenty minutes flew by in a flash. It was as though one minute you were in the Byers home, and the next Steve was pulling up to the cabin. His lips were moving as you looked at him.

“What?”

“I asked if you wanted me to bring you any medicine or anything? It’d take me probably a half hour or so, but I could run into town and get you something. The general store should still be open.”

You shook your head. “I think I’m good. Just need to lie down, or something.”

“That’ll probably help. You look a little pale.”

Sucking in a deep breath, you mustered up a small smile. “Thanks, Steve.”

He shrugged his shoulders, an easy grin sliding across his mouth. You envied his ease. “It’s no problem, El.” If he noticed the way you stiffened up, he didn’t say anything. “I’ll see you around.”

Getting out of the car, you faintly heard him telling Tee and Seb to make sure that they took care of you. There was a chorus of ‘yes’ before the door was closed and Steve was reversing his vehicle.

Trudging up the porch, Seb was pressing his lips together. “Why’d we have to leave? Tee said something bad happened.”

“We have to get our things packed up and head out tonight. Somebody from the lab knows we’re in Hawkins.”

“But I like it here,” Seb said, letting out a petulant whine.

“I know.” You slung an arm around his shoulders as Tee opened the door. “But you’ll like it where we’re going, too. You remember the plan, right?”

“Meet up with everyone and then cross the border.” Seb spoke in such a way that it was obvious it had practically been drilled into his head.

“Exactly. So go get your backpack ready, and we’ll leave in an hour.”

Everything was a flurry of packing from then on. There wasn’t much to pack since the three of you only had a couple of changes of clothes each, but it was the raiding of the cabin that took the longest. Tee was in charge of grabbing any food that wasn’t perishable and wouldn’t weigh them down too much. Seb was in charge of finding anything that looked like it’d be first aid supplies, and you were sorting through money that had been spread out between the three packs.

It was hard to tell how long the packing had been going on when you saw them. Headlights flashing through the window.

“Someone’s here,” you hissed, causing Tee and Seb to duck to the ground. The lights were on in the cabin, and it’d be obvious to anyone outside that someone was there if you turned them off. “Go to the bedroom and shut the blinds.”

Tee and Seb army-crawled across the ground, panic twisting and turning around the two of them like a caged animal. You moved towards the window, taking care to keep low. Your teeth bit into your lip, drawing blood. It was difficult to hear beyond the roaring of blood in your ears, or the way your heart was going to pound right out of your chest. But somehow, you got up enough courage to peek through the window to see the car. The headlights were blinding, making it impossible to see.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

“Fuck me,” you muttered as you ducked down. Maybe if no one answered, they’d leave. But a second later, it was the same three insistent knocks. Starting towards the door, you thanked whatever heavenly being existed that you’d set a baseball bat near the door the previous night.

Just in case.

You straightened up when you reached the door, your fingers wrapping around the handle as the knocking started up again. In the middle of the second, you swung the door open, bat in the air and swinging at the person in front of it.

Wood made contact with skin. The figure hit the ground, and a groan started up immediately. “Holy shit, do you play for the majors? Christ, you’re strong.”

It took you a second to place the voice. “Steve?”

“Who else were you expecting?” You set the bat against the door and held out your hand to help him up.

“What are you doing here?” He wasn’t supposed to be here. Had he led them here? Was he the one that was responsible for this? He was with them, wasn’t he? That lying, son-of-a bitch, he

“Got you stuff for your stomach,” he said in between soft groans. One of his hands came to tough gently at the spot where you’d hit him, a bruise already starting to bloom across his skin. The other hand held out a small bottle of medicine. “Thought you might want it, even though you said you didn’t want any.”

“Steve, thanks, but I really need you to get out of here.”

He straightened up and frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Look, it’s just none of your…” You trailed off as he looked passed you into the cabin. Shouldering his way inside, you scowled. “Business.”

“What happened in here? Did someone break in?”

In the midst of your packing, no one had thought to be neat about it. Food and first aid supplies were strewn across the couch and on the counters in the kitchen while money was laid out in piles on one of the chairs.

“Like I said, it’s none of your business. Just go home.”

“Steve?” The two of you looked over to see Seb and Tee poking their heads out of the bedroom door.

“What’re you doing here?” Seb asked, stepping into the living room.

“Uh, just… Honestly, I don’t know. What’s going on?” He turned to you and raised a brow. Before you could say anything, a look of understanding dawned across his face. “You’re leaving.”

“Can you just go? Please?” You were wasting time and he was wasting your time and Jane was one of you and Hopper had betrayed you and your best friend was dead and fuck you couldn’t handle any of this anymore. “Can my life be easy for once and you just get out?”

Steve took a step towards you, hands held out in front of him to show that he wasn’t going to try anything. “Look, just tell me what’s going on. Let me help. Let Hopper help.” You were shaking your head at that, insistent. You weren’t sure if you could breathe. “Okay, okay, Hopper’s out. Let me help then, okay? At least help you guys pack? What do you need done?”

That… You hadn’t expected that.

But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all. You’d messed up trusting Hopper. You weren’t making the same mistake again.

“We need the food and first aid stuff in bags. Spread out among them,” Tee said before you could tell Steve just where he could go. You whipped around to Tee, scowling.

“Nope. You’re not in charge. You don’t get to tell him that he can help.”

“Oh, come on El! You can’t be serious here. If he helps, it’ll take less time. We can get out. We can go. Maybe he can even drive us to —”

“No. Steve, get out.”

“I want Steve to help,” Seb said. You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe through your nose to try to calm yourself down. It didn’t work.

“This isn’t a democracy. You don’t get a vote. Neither of you do,” you said. Your voice was noticeably forced. It was taking every ounce of your self-control to keep in check.

“So what, it’s a dictatorship then?” Tee asked, venom in her voice.

Out of the corner of your eye, Steve took a step back. But you were too focused on the little asshole in front of you to really pay attention to him.

“Yeah, it is a dictatorship!” You yelled, stomping forward until you were right up in her face. “You two aren’t going to end up dead because of me, do you hear me? So you’re going to do what I say, and you’re going to do it without saying shit for once in your life, okay?”

Tee’s mouth pressed itself into a hard line as she shook her head. “We never asked you to be in charge,” she said, her voice soft enough that Steve wouldn’t hear,. “You just made yourself in charge since Alex died.”

Something inside of you snapped. You took a step back and shrugged your shoulders. “Fine. Whatever. Let him help. But if this blows up in our faces, it’s on you.”

Tee’s face darkened. “Steve, you can start with the bags,” she said, her eyes staying on yours.

You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the hesitant steps that he started to take. When he reached the couch, you turned and glared at him. “Don’t touch the money.”

“It’s cool,” Steve murmured. “I’ll steer clear of it.”

And he did. You watched as he helped Seb and Tee sort through the food and first aid supplies. Steve asked what bag was Seb’s and made sure to put the lightest stuff in there. He even grabbed some crayons and some paper too, making Seb smile.

Within what felt like minutes, everything was done. You’d counted the money three times over. It wasn’t much, but it’d be enough for a bus to Michigan. You could do this. You could do this.

“Okay, so what’s next?” Steve asked as he zipped up the last backpack. Tee and Seb already had their’s on. “Where are you guys headed?”

“The bus station. How close is it?” Tee asked.

“A good ways away, but at this time of night? You’re going to be sitting there for hours. Are you sure you can’t crash here tonight and leave in the morning?”

“We just need to leave. Now,” you said.

“Where are you guys headed? On the bus?” You shook your head at him. “Look, what if… What if I drive you guys?”

Your jaw dropped, as did Seb and Tee’s. “You’re kidding,” you said, somehow getting the words out. “Why would I let you drive us?”

“Because you need out, and you trust me enough to let me help you pack.”

“This isn’t happening.”

“I’ve got an atlas in my car. What if you just navigate, and you don’t tell me where we’re going?”

“You’re kidding.” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “It’s at least a six-hour drive. Don’t you have a life?”

Steve shrugged again. “Not really.”

“Why are you offering?”

At that, Steve faltered. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before eventually settling on, “Dustin always says I have a mom complex. I just — you guys seemed really freaked out the other night. And now. You look like you could use some help.”

You reached out with your powers, trying to find something, anything, that would tip you off to what he was really feeling. But it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Nothing sinister or malicious. Just genuine care.

You were wrong about Hopper. You’re wrong about him, some part of you whispered.

“El…ise, come on,” Tee said, her voice cutting through your thoughts. “We need to leave, and now. Steve is our best bet out of here.”

She was right. And that pissed you off even more. Somehow, the fifteen-year-old shithead was making more rational choices than you were. It was either go with Steve or inevitably get caught. You rolled your eyes at her before shrugging your shoulders.

“Fine. Get in the car.”

• • •

Your heart was pounding somewhere inside of your chest. You’d thought that going to dinner was the dumbest choice you’d made, but it turns out that no, you had room for more.

If there was a Dumb Ass of the Year award, you’d be a shoo-in.

Soft snores came from Tee and Seb in the back. You craned your neck around to get a better look at them. Tee had her arms wrapped around her backpacking a vise-like grip, her head resting on her balled up sweater. Seb, on the other hand, was sprawled out alongside the rest of the back seat, his head against Tee’s leg. The sight of them made your heart squeeze.

You settled back into your seat, glancing over to Steve. You didn’t trust him, not by a long shot. But you could read his emotions easily. Worry, concern, anxiety; they all swirled around him. But there wasn’t anything that made you think that he was in this for the wrong reasons.

Maybe he was just genuinely this nice.

“You mind if I turn on some music?” He asked, his voice barely audible above the quiet. You shook your head, watching his hand as he reached out to turn on the stereo. Nothing came out at first, just the gentle whirring of the tape before it started back up in the middle of a song.

There’s no chance for us It’s all decided for us This world only has one Sweet moment set aside for us

“Who’s this?” You asked, your brow furrowing as you tried to ignore the way the lyrics were making your chest ache.

Steve furrowed his brow a little, surprise crossing his face.

“You’ve never heard of Queen?”

please reblog/like/comment/send me an ask with your thoughts!

[tardisbadwolfrose]

For a Sister’s Sake

Based on a tumblr request by anonymous.

Want to send me a request? Just ask!

Read it on AO3!

Number One liked to think that, at seven whole years old, he knew exactly what his role was in this world. He had to listen to his father, and obey orders, and above all else, protect his family.

Protect Number Two, even when he tried to fight him, protect Number Three, even when she used her powers to make him leave her alone, protect Number Four, who was innocent and naive and too sweet and too trusting, protect Number Five, who always insisted he was fine, protect Number Six, even if the monster in his chest did a pretty good job of that, and protect Number Seven, who was powerful, but weak and tiny and even sweeter than Number Four and would probably let herself be snapped like a twig if it meant she didn’t have to hurt anyone.

She hadn’t always been like that, Number One remembered. He had a pretty good memory, or so Mom told him, and he remembered when she used to use her powers and lash out when she didn’t get her way. Then, Father had one of his “serious talks” with her, one of the ones that he never got, but she did all the time, and Number One wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew Father made sure Seven understood what it meant to hurt people, and after that, Seven never hurt another person ever again. (At least, not on purpose.)

Number One knew that they were all the same age, but he also knew that all of the siblings still thought of him as the oldest and Seven as the the youngest, and they all had this rule that they’d protect her, because she was the littlest and needed it, and also because they knew that she’d protect them if she needed to, even if it did mean hurting people.

So yeah. Number One knew a lot of things.

What he didn’t know was why he was hearing banging coming from downstairs at midnight.

He spent a whole entire minute trying to decide whether or not to go downstairs and check it out, but he decided that it might be an intruder and got up a quietly as he could, following the noises down to a room he’d never thought existed before.

It was cold and big, he noticed, with blank metal walls and no decoration, aside from shattered vases and rubble that once must have been boulders and glimmering glass dust lining the walls. And there, in the center of the room, was his father and little Number Seven.

She was wearing headphones and a look of great pain, and he was watching with delight as he continued to twist a dial on a machine the headphones were connected too. The air around his sister shimmered with her barely contained powers, and her hands were bloody where her nails had bit into her palms.

Before he realized what he was doing, Number One was calling for his father to stop.

“She’s in pain! Stop!”

Reginald Hargreeves stood, his delight morphing to rage, and Number One suddenly understood why Four, Six, and Seven always looked at him in such fear.

“Number One! How dare you leave your bed without permission!” Father snapped. He didn’t make any move to turn off the device, however, a fact that made One quite upset.

“I heard noises and thought it was an intruder,” Number One argued. “Why won’t you turn off the device? It’s hurting her!”

“And how dare you question my methods!”

One shrunk back from the criticism, but then he caught sight of tears glimmering on Seven’s face and a hint of blood trickling from under the headphones, and any illusion that his Father was doing the right thing shattered.

He wasn’t sure what happened next, just that he saw red and then, suddenly, Father was unconscious on the floor, his fist hurt, and he was pulling the headphones away from his sister’s head. He tossed them onto the ground, then stomped on them, trying to stop the high pitching wailing he could now hear from the device. It took a couple of tries, but he succeeded, and a blissful look overtook his sister’s face.

“Are you okay?” He asked her quietly, but she didn’t respond, eyes closed and hands covering her bloody ears.

He was angry, he realized as he took in Seven’s pain. Angry at his father, which was a very new feeling. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with it, but he’d always thought Father’s methods, while perhaps cruel, were necessary, and now he was looking at the situation and wondering in what world would it ever be? How could it be necessary to do this to your own child-- to any child? To little Number Seven, so sweet and quiet and compliant and eager to please?

She sniffled, and he gently reached out to help guide her out of the room, and to Mom. He hated to interrupt her recharging cycle, but Seven had yet to respond to a single one of his questions, only whispering out a hoarse “thank you” before falling completely silent, and her ears were still bleeding, and her nose was now too, and she was still crying and he didn’t know what to do.

Nothing in their father’s training could have prepared him for what to do when the person he had to protect his siblings from was him.

It was times like these when he wished their mom was more human, wasn’t just programming, because she was business-like in treating Seven, and refused to admit that their father had done something wrong, even when she admitted that his sister’s hearing might be damaged permanently. When he thought about it though, he really wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say-- usually, the reassurance that his father was a good man would have been enough to make him see the best of the situation. In that moment, though, all it was doing was making him even more angry.

How could what One had seen be the actions of a good man?

He needed a plan, he thought. Father was going to wake up eventually, and he’d be mad. Number One’s first instinct was to run away, to take Seven and go far, far away from the Academy, but that brought up questions like “what do I do with the others-- can I really just leave them here?” and “how do we survive on our own?” and “how can seven seven-year-olds go unnoticed?” (Because in the end, he knew he’d never leave everyone else at home.)

He fell asleep holding onto Seven’s hand at her bedside before he’d finished trying to answer the questions. When he and his sister woke up, it was to his father, standing with Number Three in front of him.

Number One didn’t have time to warn her to stay away from their father before she was speaking.

“I heard a rumor you both forgot about everything that happened last night.”

Number One liked to think that, at seven whole years old, he knew exactly what his role was in this world. He had to listen to his father, and obey orders, and above all else, protect his family.

Read it on AO3!

[howsit-going-toend]

My Best Friend’s Girlfriend Pt. 2

A Kim Jiwon x Reader Scenario

Genre: Angst

Word count: 4,300+

Summary: You’ve always said that you’re happy for him…But do you mean it?

Part 1

(A/N: This is long overdue and I appreciate everyone’s patience. Just about everything I write is in some way inspired by true events/emotions in my life. This week my Jiwon actually married his Soomi. So I figured there would be no better time to finish writing this part than right now. It is currently 2am and I have been working on it diligently for the past five hours. I am very tired, still sad, but I am truly happy with this. I hope you all enjoy.)

One Year Ago…

You could barely breathe. One hand worked to stabilize your drink while the other flew to grip your stomach. It was aching with a familiar pain that has only ever occurred in your life when you’ve been near Jiwon. Both of your bodies were erupting with laughter.

A night like this was nothing out of the ordinary. You’d spent it enjoying dinner with him and his family, cracking jokes and reliving your oldest memories, before lazing around in the living room with him and his brother playing video games and drinking beers. The two of you were now slouching comfortably, having abandoned your controllers to try to get a grip on your breathing. After several minutes of cackling and refusing to make eye contact with each other, you’d successfully fought off all the muscles that had clenched in your abdomens and the tears that had filled your eyes. At this point, you couldn’t even remember what was so damn funny in the first place.

“Ok. Ok.” He chuckled a few last times as he wiped his eyes to look at you again. “I’ve got a serious question.” He had slouched so low in his chair that he gained nearly four chins just trying to see you, making you giggle some more.

“What’s up?” You’d shaken off the last bit of laughter to sit up and take another sip. The amount of booze already in your system prevented you from being too caught off guard by the sudden change in mood. He didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you and smiled to himself.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Come on, you can’t just say that and then not ask me anything.”

He readjusted to a more comfortable upright position. “Have you ever connected like this with anyone else?” His expression muted to a sincere smile, keeping eye contact while yours morphed into one of subtle confusion. You chuckled a bit. “Wh-What?”

He laughed back. “It’s a legit question. Have you ever connected like this with anybody else before?”

You stared back at him. “I mean, Jisu is the first person to come to mind. Her and I are really close.”

“I think you know what I mean.” He looked down at the beer in his hand.

You paused. Though your cheeks flushed bright red, you were thankful in that moment that your ears couldn’t visibly perk up like a dog. “Jiwon…”

“Forget it, I’m sorry.” He waved his hand in your direction before sliding it across his face. “Oh shit, where’s my phone?”

You gestured silently to where it had fallen under the coffee table. Your mind was still on his question, but you played along and changed the subject. “Does she know you guys had me over?”

“Yeah.” He said to the device before composing a quick damage-control text message. She hated when he didn’t reply to her within twenty minutes.

“I guess it’s cool since your brother’s here.” You said, gesturing to Jiun’s sleeping body, curled up in a chair on the other side of the living room.

Jiwon jumped slightly before covering his mouth and cackling. “Oh man, I forgot he was even there. Yeah, she’d probably be mad that you’re here and the only other person isn’t even conscious. Guess I shouldn’t fill her in on that part.”

You chuckled uncomfortably, knowing he wasn’t really joking. His girlfriend had made herself pretty clear by now to your face and through several text conversations that she wasn’t ok with Jiwon and you hanging out alone together. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. And I know he’s your best friend but it’s just that: I had a best friend. And now that best friend is my boyfriend. You know?” Ever since she said those words on that “girls’ day” she’d arranged for the two of you, you’ve been fuming. Until that point, she was the first girlfriend of his that you’d actually approved of. Now it felt like you had to make an appointment through her to even consider texting him.

“I’m sorry about that, again. I don’t get why she’s threatened by you.” You were getting tired of hearing him say those words. Every time you heard him refer to it so plainly you wanted to yell back then do something about it!! You couldn’t help but be a little offended that he let her take this kind of control over him. It wasn’t at all like the Jiwon you knew.

You shrugged and laughed a little. “I don’t think any of your girlfriends have ever liked me.”

He made a face that reminded your boozed brain of that one emoji with the wide open eyes and straight line of teeth. “Yeaaaah…”

“I knew it! You would have never admitted that if you were sober.”

He took a humorously convenient sip before offering a rebuttal. “What about you? None of the boyfriends you’ve had ever liked me either.”

“Ok that’s true, but remember you also beat up one of them and then he told everyone.”

He pointed towards you with a serious facial expression. “Hey, hey, fuck him. He deserved it and any decent guy could look at his situation and know I did nothing wrong. If someone hurts you, they hurt me and when that happens...” He made a gesture alluding to physical harm that he most definitely got from a mobster movie. You rolled your eyes.

You both finished your drinks in the next few minutes. Jiwon sprang up to grab two more from the kitchen, while you sat on the couch picking at an empty bottle’s wrapper. You mind kept wandering back to his question from before. When he returned he plopped down beside you and exchanged the empty in your hand with a smile. You smiled back, being reminded of the misalignment in his front teeth. You hadn’t appreciated them up close in what felt like months. Despite you getting braces in middle school and slowly and somewhat painfully correcting your dental imperfections, his bunny teeth had never changed. But they fit him. They were uniquely Kim Jiwon.  

“Are you staring at my crooked teeth?” He accused, speaking with a smile that he now covered with his fist. “That’s rude.”

You laughed into your bottle and sipped it. As you did, Jiwon gently began to tilt the bottom up, causing you to nearly spill beer all over yourself. It was a maneuver you’d pulled on each other for years. “Kim Jiwon, I swear! You want to talk about rude?!” You lifted it instinctively above his head, to which he immediately grabbed your wrist in defense. You both laughed as you waged a mini battle of physical strength, gripping each other’s wrists and forcing all four of them between midair and couch cushions. “Don’t do it!” “How old are you?!” “Come on!” “You’ve got nothing!” But the fake fight didn’t end how it usually did in the past.

Where one of you would normally get sick of it and surrender, you’d both come to a mutual halt. You looked into each other’s eyes. You didn’t realize when it had happened but rather than simply gripping one of his wrists, you’d actually interlaced your fingers together. You also took notice to just how fast your heart was beating.

The seconds felt like hours. The tension in your arms slowly relaxed, but your fingers remained entwined. You kept wanting to speak but the words just wouldn’t come out. Your lips continued to part and immediately close in a way that was probably incredibly confusing to look at. Your cheeks reddened. Say it! Just say it!

“About that question you asked earlier.” You almost whispered.

His eyes widened, knowing exactly which you were referring to. “Yeah?” His pitch matching yours.

“I…don’t think I’ve ever connected with anyone like this.” You watched his eyes dance back and forth between both of yours, as if clinging on to your words. There was no way he couldn’t hear your heart beating from the close proximity of your chests.

“Really?” His face twitched into a smirk. “Me neither.”

You laughed nervously, having never expected a moment like this to ever actually happen. A part of you always imagined what it would be like but you never acted on it. And you never, especially recently, ever would have imagined Jiwon thought about it too. “It’s…it’s almost scary, isn’t it?”

“It really is…” He smiled briefly, still staring into your eyes in wonder.

You squeezed his hand as if asking permission, and the second his hand squeezed back: it happened. In half a second, you watched his eyes close and his face approach yours, breeching a vicinity it had never before passed. A current of excitement pulsed from the top of your head to your toes as his lips made contact with yours. You’d always thought the idea of “sparks flying” during a kiss to be cliché and superficial. Until now. It lasted merely twenty seconds but you immersed yourself into that kiss with every fiber of your being. His lips were just plump enough. Their slow, though few, movements covered your arms in goosebumps. Maybe you were just drunk, but you couldn’t remember any kiss you’d ever had that was anything like this. And maybe it would have lasted a little longer…

The unmistakable sound of a phone vibrating snapped the two of you out of your trance. You pulled away from each other and stared with wide eyes in momentary shock. Jiwon quickly came to, realizing that buzzing was his own phone. He shook his head and wiped his hand across his face before answering the call. “Uh H-.” He cleared his throat. “Hey you.”

It was Soomi. SHIT. Your face got beet red, accompanying a sudden urge to cry. Your hands covered your mouth as you leaned forward on the couch, listening as Jiwon talked to his girlfriend and acted like nothing was wrong. And that he totally wasn’t just kissing the exact girl she felt so threatened by. What the fuck is going on? What just happened? WHY did it just happen?

When he finally hung up, silence fell between the two of you. Neither of you said anything for nearly ten minutes. You couldn’t look at each other. All either of you could do was bury your face in your hands and sigh frustratingly. Jiwon was the first one to finally speak.

“I…I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say right now uh…” You looked at him, seeing that both of you had tears in your eyes. He cleared his throat. “I need some time.”

Today…

You sniffed, silently praying Jiwon couldn’t tell from this distance that you were tearing up. You forced a small smile to match his, until he mouthed something to you with raised eyebrows.

You furrowed yours in response, mouthing back “what?”

He narrowed his eyes, playfully frustrated, before he silently repeated himself much slower. “Are you ok?”

You sighed, this time with a genuine smile. It was just like him to make sure those around were all right even when he himself was physically injured. You mentally prepared yourself to lie and offer a pathetic thumbs up, until you saw Soomi vigorously shake his shoulder. Neither of you had even noticed she’d been trying to get his attention.

Though you couldn’t hear their exchange that went on for the next minute, you saw Jiwon slowly nod his head with a small smirk. Jiun stood up from his spot on the ground by his brother’s knee to pat him on the shoulder. Relief was clear in his expression, causing the muscles in your chest to begin to relax themselves. You knew Jiwon must have finally agreed to get himself checked out.

As Jiun helped his brother up to use the crutches you’d found, you saw Soomi look to you. You quickly drew your attention to your phone, as if you hadn’t been staring at them for the past fifteen minutes. You scrolled aimlessly through nothing remotely important until the sound of her voice startled you.

“Hey, Jiwon is finally agreeing to go to the hospital so we’re all about to head to the car. I can drop you off at your parents’ house since it’s on the way. Sound ok?” She spoke each word with the biggest smile painted across her face. All you could do was nod your head. Your parents’ house was nowhere within route to the hospital.

You let out a sigh as she walked to the cashier counter while you joined Jiwon and his brother. You smirked at his crutches before lifting your eyes to lock with his. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “Sorry I ruined the night.”

“Come on. You didn’t ruin anything. How’s it feel?”

“Eh. I’ll survive.” He replied in his casual, confident manner.

You shook your head. “You just had to go and show off. Just like back when we were kids and you wanted to race me only if you got to run backwards. You always did that! Until that time you ate shit.” You laughed. “Remember that?”

He chuckled at the memory. “Oh I remember. But I would have won that race if that bigass root didn’t get in my way. Not my fault I couldn’t see it!”

You laughed even harder. “Yeah, actually it was.”

Jiun chimed in. “I remember that day. You let mom get mad at me for ‘pushing you on the ground’ or something, when it was actually you who just went and fell running backwards because you’re an idiot.” He pointed an accusing finger at his brother, who was currently trying to maintain his balance on crutches while laughing his ass off.

“Hyung, this was a harmless conversation. Now why are you making things up?” Jiwon replied between chuckles.

You rolled your eyes as Jiun reeled his fist back in a fake threat. “You’re lucky Soomi chooses to put up with you. We’re blood so I have to.”

As if his phrasing had summoned her, Soomi then appeared by Jiwon’s side with a wide grin. You averted your eyes as he looked down at her, catching the small peck he left on her forehead in your periphery.

“Y/N too. Hell she’s chosen to put up with you longer than anyone.”

You felt your cheeks grow red as you held yourself back from punching Jiun. You didn’t even need to turn your head to know the look that Soomi was giving you.

“I mean we’re basically blood too, so.” You casually wrote off.

“All right, well is everyone ready to go?” Soomi piped up, no longer wishing to further engage this topic.

---

The car ride was significantly quieter than the trip earlier. Though you wanted to go with the three of them and ensure that Jiwon was properly taken care of, the night’s events had left you feeling drained and defeated. You accepted that it was best that you didn’t tag along; despite the fact that at this point in time, you really had no choice.

Still, you were able to look at Jiwon, who was fast asleep in the passenger seat clutching his crutches like his Winnie the Pooh bear, and smile. What mattered the most right now was ensuring he’d be ok.

As the car rounded the corner towards your parents’ neighborhood, Jiun spoke up and broke the prolonged silence. “Hey, uh, Soomi this isn’t the hospital.”

“I’m just dropping Y/N off since it’s on the way.”

As you made eye contact with his incredulous expression, you made a quick gesture while mouthing “it’s ok” before returning your gaze to the window. Not even two minutes passed before the car made the familiar turn into your driveway.

“Thanks for dropping me off, Soomi. You guys get there safe and send any updates my way, ok?” You offered halfheartedly as she unlocked your door from the driver seat.

“Of course. Good to see you Y/N.” She bluntly returned. You sighed to yourself and left the vehicle. Just as you heard the door close behind you, you heard Jiun speak up. “Well I’m going to walk her up to the door. I’ll be right back.”

You smiled as you turned to see him jogging over to you from his side of the car. “Thanks Jiun, but you don’t have to do that. I’m a big girl, I can get to the door myself. Get back in there and make sure that punk is walking by tomorrow, all right?”

He smiled before pulling you in for a hug. “You should be coming with us.” He muttered.

You squeezed and patted his back as you fought a silent battle with your emotions. “Just keep me updated, ok?” He nodded his head and agreed before getting back in the car. You waved at the vehicle as it pulled away, forcing another smile.

You turned to see them completely disappear from view as your hand made contact with the front door. You entered the house, allowing your hand to linger on the doorknob as you locked yourself in, and let out a sigh.

“You’re home early.”

Your mom’s voice left you momentarily frozen. Shit.

“Uh, yeah, I am.” You offered, trying to sound ok without actually turning to face her. Maybe she’d buy it and just go in the kitchen or something, leaving you in the clear to hide in your room for the next three years.

“What’s wrong?”

God damn her intuition…

“What? Nothing’s wrong.” You stated far from convincing after turning around a little too abruptly.

She made the face. Your mom made this specific face whenever she knew that 1. Something was clearly wrong, and 2. You were clearly lying about it not being wrong.

“Everything’s fine!” You averted eye contact and immediately skipped to plan B; fleeing to the bathroom. “Give me a second? I’ve actually really got to go.”

“Y/N.” She crossed her arms. “What is it?”

“Mom…” You sighed. Works every time. You raised your arms out briefly before throwing them down in defeat. “It’s just…Jiwon. Well, Soomi.”

She nodded her head, having already anticipated something like this. “Did she say something?”

You sighed once again out of frustration. “Not really. I just know what she’s thinking when she sees me, you know? She doesn’t have to say anything.”

“Do you think going out tonight was a bad idea?”

“No” You replied abruptly. “I was glad to see them. I was…it’s just. God damnit.” You ran your hands across your face, trying your hardest not to cry in front of her and silently hoping your mild profanity would become the new focus.

She walked closer to you and placed her hands on your shoulders protectively. Her eyes were full of concern. “Talk to me.”

That was it. You let the tears fall. The amount of emotion you’d been suppressing for the past twenty four hours was too great and your mother’s soft and caring voice was just enough of a catalyst. A knot of anxiety took refuge at the top of your throat. Your lower lip trembled. “Remember when you said they wouldn’t last?” You squeaked.

“Oh, honey.” She brought you in for a hug. “Shh, shhh. It’s all right.”

You sniffed while the two of you relocated to your room, away from any potential eavesdropping from your dad. Once you walked in, your mom sat at your desk and you instantly began to pace. She waited patiently and watched as you attempted to fan your tears away.

After Soomi had first expressed her disapproval of your friendship, your mom was the only person, besides his brother, that you could talk to about Jiwon. She was a reliable source for your late night venting; listening and always validating, but brutally honest when need be. You took a deep breath and looked at her with a forced smile. “I love him, Mom.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know it’s hard.” She replied with a nod.

“No, I… love him.” You sighed. “He kissed me.”

“What!” The volume of her voice startled you, but you knew you shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Tonight?!”

You continued pacing. “No, no not tonight. This was last year when I was in town and spent the night with his family.” She gave you a look and you instantly panicked. “Nothing happened! It was just a kiss. I still slept in their guest room all by myself. Everything is fine…” You reassured her, though not truly believing the last statement.

“Well no wonder Soomi is the way she is.”

You winced. “So. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t actually know about it.”

“Oh, Y/N. That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, annoyed at her ability to perfectly mimic your conscience. “Yeah, well, they’re fine and still happily together. This week was the first time I’d heard from him all year.” You threw your hands up only to throw them back down with a huff of your chest. “So that’s the situation we’ve been in. I thought you were on my side.”

She sighed. “I am, honey.” A silence filled the space between you for a few moments until your phone buzzed.

Jiun: In the waiting room. I’m sorry that you’re not here. She’s being way too much…I had to walk away for a minute because she kept speaking for Jiwon when they were signing him in. Talking over him and stuff.

Of course. You swallowed; trying unsuccessfully to get rid of the knot in your throat.

“Come sit.” Your mom spoke up softly, while lifting herself from your desk chair and offering it to you. You sighed and forced a smirk. It was about time for that brutal honesty.

She perched herself on the corner of your bed and gently held both of your hands. “I know you love him.” Her expression was warm and sincere, being enough for your tears to bud once more. “And I know he loves you. Of course he does. You’ve been so close for so long. I know how hard this must be for you.” She offered a small smile. “I remember when you first told me that Soomi didn’t like the two of you hanging out together.”

You opened your mouth to reflexively correct her, but she read your mind and continued. “Unless you were in a group. I remember telling you that she was just insecure. She didn’t trust you and she wasn’t confident enough in herself. You were seen as a threat and she wanted to control that however she could. Even if it meant hurting the friendship you had with both of them. You remember that right?”

You nodded your head.

“Well, honey, after knowing what I know now: I think she was right. I think her instincts were telling her that Jiwon’s heart wasn’t as committed to her as she’d wanted and hoped for.” She analyzed your reaction, catching the little glimmer of hope that had filled your eyes. “But as much as I love that boy and…admittedly always, wanted him to be a member of this family I think he’s been confused about that too. The fact that what happened between you two, happened, and you didn’t hear from him for so long afterwards. But the two of them are still together…” She sighed. “I don’t think it’s in the cards for you and him right now.”

You looked back at her, perplexed, but not saying anything. You waited for her to continue, anxiously awaiting her motherly wisdom, just staring at her like some sort of crystal ball and hoping for further elaboration of these so called cards.

“And that’s ok, you know? It should be ok. It really is sad that this is happening but you should know that you’ll survive it. You’ve had such a strong friendship all these years, right?” You nodded again, this time with tears filling your eyes. “And it’s ok to cry right now. You’ve been hurt and you’ve been handling a lot all while trying to keep up with school too. Who wouldn’t cry?” She squeezed your hands gently. “But honey, as much as you care about Jiwon, you can’t forget about you. I’ve always told you to let yourself be sad when you need to be sad but once you accept your emotions, you’ve got to keep living in the present. In this moment. Let him figure out what he needs. Let Soomi do it too. But you also need to take care of you. Ok?”

You threw your arms around her shoulders. She reciprocated the embrace, holding you in the nurturing comfort you’ve always held close to your heart. You smiled despite the tears running down your cheeks. She was right. She was always right.

A few hours later as you’d finally settled into bed, your phone went off again.

Jiun: A torn tendon. Minor. Doctors say he’ll be walking on it in a matter of weeks. Just has to wear the boot of shame.

You sighed out of relief.

Y/N: That’s what I wanted to hear. You make sure he keeps that thing on. No more stunts.

You placed your phone face-down on your nightstand and covered yourself beneath the sheets. You stayed awake like that a little longer, for what felt like hours, just reflecting on everything that your mom had said. You’d never wrapped your head around why Soomi acted the way she did. Even if you didn’t condone the more controlling parts of her personality, you couldn’t blame her suspicions anymore. She was justified. Her feelings are just as valid as yours. And that, served as one of the biggest motivators for you to embrace change. 

A part of you was enormously grateful, and ready to enter the next chapter of truly focusing on yourself. But another part of you was terrified. Despite the last year of no contact and zero closure, until tonight, you’d been by Jiwon’s side for as long as you could remember. Learning to accept your situation for what it was and patiently allowing the universe to lead you both in the right directions sounded way easier said than done.

But as you closed your eyes that night, you smiled to yourself as you thought to Jiun’s text; Jiwon was ok. And even if you weren’t right now, you knew that you would be. Everything would work itself out.

In time.

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts” Season 1 Chapter 12: Devil’s Trap Part 2

Summary: As Sam and Dean begin the search for their father, a chance encounter with another hunter will change the roads ahead. Riley Munroe is a hunter, raised by her father after her mother tragically died when she was only six months old. Brought together by loss, grief, and the family business, Sam, Dean, and Riley join forces. They’ll find that their stories are intertwined and lean on each other as they search for answers and to avenge those they’ve lost. They’ll face evil, darkness, and hell itself…as a family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,722

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

A duffel bag hung on Dean’s shoulder as the three walked beside the river. Their only hope of finding John was if they could find any clue on where he might be. 

Meg’s final words were little help and they knew they were running out of time

“Guys...” stopping in her tracks, Riley put out her arm to stop the boys. “Think maybe that’s what Meg meant by 'sunrise'?” She turned to look at the building to their right and they followed her glance. An apartment building sat across the street with a sign out front that read: ‘Sunrise Apartments’.  

Sam, Riley, and Dean stayed hidden behind scattered trees to get a closer look. Families with children played on the front lawn of the building on a seemingly normal street.  

“Son of a bitch. That’s pretty smart.” Dean turned to the others. “They can possess whoever they want. It could be anybody.”  

“Which means anyone could attack us,” Sam agreed.  

Riley imagined all the innocent lives inside the building, all the people that were just going about their everyday lives. “They know we can’t kill them. They’re using them as friggin’ shields. And you know they probably know what we look like too.”  

Dean nodded. “Okay, so we pull the fire alarm and get the civilians out.”  

“That means we’ll have seven minutes before the city responds.”  

“Seven minutes exactly,” Sam confirmed.  

------  

Sam had gone in and out of the building without being detected after he pulled the fire alarm. The tenants slowly filed out as the loud bell echoed through the halls.  

Just as they planned, the fire department and paramedics rolled up to the scene. Sirens wailed and firefighters went into the building to secure it. 

The three met behind one of the trucks as Sam picked a lock on one of the side storage doors. He grabbed two jackets, helmets, and bags with equipment as he and Dean threw them on.  

“Alright, you guys go look for John. I’m gonna find another way in. I’ll find you.” Riley looked at Dean and smirked. “You look good in that.”  

“Oh, really?” Dean chuckled. “Got a thing for a man in uniform?” he asked as he bit his lip.  

Sam rolled his eyes. “Really? Now? What is it with you two and costumes?”  

“Hey...” Dean started. “Don’t get cranky just because my sex life is awesome.”  

Letting out a little laugh, Riley went on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on her boyfriend’s lips. “Be careful. I’ll see you both soon.” She squeezed Sam’s hand with a final look and hurried out of sight.  

------  

Sam and Dean had made their way up several floors looking for signs of anything conspicuous. Holding out his EMF detector, Dean led the way. “I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up,” he said muffled through his helmet.  

“You never told me that.”  

The fact of the matter was, ever since the fire as a kid, Dean dreamed of being a firefighter. He didn’t understand at such a young age that evil had taken his mother. All he knew was that the fire had changed their lives. Five-year-old Dean would lie awake at night, thinking that maybe if he had known how to stop fires, he could have saved his mom. 

The device whirred out of control as Sam and Dean stepped in front of one of the apartments. 

They immediately began to bang on the door. “This is the fire department. We need you to evacuate,” Dean ordered. When they noticed the door was unlocked, Sam and Dean forced their way in.  

Without hesitation, they began to spray their pressurized water tanks at the possessed couple inside. They had filled them with holy water and the man and woman seemed to sizzle and burn as it hit them. The two yelled out as the Winchesters continued their assault on them, their eyes going sinister and black.  

Sam grabbed the man and hit him in the face before shoving him into a closet and slamming it shut. The woman kicked and flailed about as Dean held onto her and drug her to the coat closet as well. Sam opened it again for a brief moment, as they hurled her in before once again shutting it. 

The demons banged on the door trying to get out. Dean held it shut as Sam poured a ring of salt in front of it. 

As the demons realized their fight was pointless, the struggle inside the closet ceased.  

After quickly removing the firemen’s gear, the brothers headed for the bedroom door. 

Sam stood ready as Dean opened it. When they looked inside, there was John. He was sprawled out on the bed and tied to all four corners. He didn’t seem to be coherent as Dean rushed to his side. 

Sam froze in panic, terrified they were too late.  

“He’s still breathing.”  

Sam let out a large sigh of relief as Dean went to cut him free. 

“Wait!” Sam told him. “He could be possessed for all we know. We gotta be sure.” He pulled out a silver flask from the gear bag and twisted it open. Hesitantly, almost afraid to know the answer, Sam splashed the holy water over his father’s body.  

John began to come to as he weakly looked at his boys. He had been beaten, his face bloody and bruised. Groggily, he asked, “Sam? Why are you splashing water on me?” 

A breathy laugh escaped Sam in response.  

“Dad? Are you okay?” Dean was back to cutting his father free.  

“Yeah...yeah. They’ve been drugging me.” His voice was tired. “Boys, the Colt...where is it?”  

“It’s safe, Dad. Don’t worry.”  

“Good boys...good boys...” John’s voice faded.  

Sam and Dean pulled their dad off the bed and tucked themselves under both of his arms to carry him out. 

As they went to leave, the front door of the apartment was kicked open. A possessed fireman and paramedic came in ready to fight.  

“Go back! Go back!” Sam shouted as they hurried back into the bedroom and closed the door behind them.  

An ax came chopping through the wooden door. Sam tried to cover himself while he poured a salt line.  

The bedroom window flew open. Riley stood on the fire escape. “Miss me?” she asked with a smile.  

“Oh, hell yes,” Dean answered.  

The brothers tried to hurry to get John through the open window and onto the metal escape. When they were out, Sam made another line of salt on the windowsill before following the others down.  

Riley and Dean stood at the bottom and helped John jump down from the ladder towards the sidewalk. 

As soon as Sam had reached the concrete, he ran ahead to get the car ready for their get-away. Before he could reach it, he was tackled by a possessed man and taken to the ground. 

The demon wailed on the hunter’s face with a closed fist.

“Sam!” Shouting, and leaving his father with Riley, Dean sprinted to his brother’s aid. 

When the demon saw him, he waved his arm and a force took Dean through the air and into a car’s windshield. He groaned out in pain as the sound of glass cracked with his every movement.  

As she left John leaning against the wall, Riley sprinted as fast as her legs could take her towards Sam. 

The demon stopped his attack on the young Winchester and shot a sinister smile Riley’s way. His black eyes somehow seemed pleased with her attempt to help as she was sent sailing through the air.  

The sound of a gunshot rang through the alleyway as a bullet went through the side of the demon’s skull with ease. A small amount of black smoke seeped from the body as it crashed to the ground and a form of a magical, electrical current ran over him.  

Dean stood at a distance with the Colt in hand. The barrel still smoked from the shot. 

Running to his brother’s side, Dean then pulled him up off the ground. “Come on. Sammy, come on. We gotta go.” Sam was completely disoriented and bloody after his beating. He wobbled on his feet as Dean tried to hold him steady. 

“Riley!” Dean yelled out with worry.  

Coming out from behind a truck, Riley stumbled. “I’m okay.” She had a slight limp and a small cut on her jawline. Pushing through, she went back for John and held onto him as she guided his weak body to the car.  

John’s oldest son looked down at the man he had shot. Moments before, he was a creature out to kill his family, but as he lied there, dead on the pavement, he was only a man. A pool of blood poured from his head as Dean thought of the life he had just taken. T

he guilt was so strong that Riley had to almost gasp for air as she felt it coming from him. 

Dean looked back up at her with pain in his eyes as he dragged his baby brother along.

------  

In a small hunting cabin, in a remote part of the woods, the team had found their way to safety. Most of the surrounding trees were bare and the night was dark and foggy. The black Chevy sat waiting out front.  

Sam poured lines of salt in front of every door and window. 

Most of the lights were off as they hoped to stay hidden from the roads. Only a few here and there scattered a soft glow around them.  

As Dean walked in the room, he observed his bruised and swollen brother. It was never easy for him to see Sam hurt, even as grown men.  

“Hey,” Sam started as he turned from the window. “You don’t think anything followed us, do you?”  

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, we couldn’t have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up.”  

“Dean...you--you saved my life back there.”  

“Yeah, well, guess you’re glad I brought the Colt, huh?”  

Sam scoffed in response. “How’s Dad?”  

“Resting. Riley is too. Been too long since that woman’s gotten a decent night’s sleep.” Dean worked up the courage to open up to his brother. “Sam...” he paused. “I killed a guy today. I mean, there was a person in there.”  

“You didn’t have a choice.”  

“That’s not what bothers me,” Dean admitted. “Killing that guy, killing Meg...I didn’t hesitate or even flinch. For you, Riley, or Dad? The things I’m willing to do or kill, it just uh—it scares me sometimes, man.”  

Sam didn’t know what to say. He knew nothing would change his brother’s mind on what had happened.

“Well, it shouldn’t.” John walked into the room with an obviously beaten face. “You did good, son.”  

Dean looked back at him, confused. “Wait, you’re not mad? I used a bullet.”  

“Mad? I’m proud of you.” Placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, John looked Dean in the eyes. “You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But  you--you watch out for this family. You always have.”  

The wind outside began to pick up. It could heard blowing and whistling through the trees. What little lights were on began to flicker. 

Sam went in a hurry back to every possible entrance ensuring the lines of salt were ready.  

“It found us. It’s here. Dean, you got the gun?”  

“Yeah.”  

“Okay, give it to me.”  

Dean took the gun out of his jacket pocket. “Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared.”  

“This is me, I won’t miss. Now give me the gun, hurry.”  

He hesitated and took a step back, looking at his father. “No. He’d be fucking furious. He wouldn’t be proud of me--he’d tear me a new one.”  

Riley came in the room as she ran a tired hand through her hair. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach and a feeling she had begun to know all too well, rushed through her. 

Riley turned to look at John and evil surged from him. It was powerfully overwhelming. 

“Dean! That’s not John!”  

Letting out a soft chuckle, John replied, “what? Riley what are you talking about?”  

Dean’s arm raised as he pointed the Colt at John, cocking it. “She’s right. You’re not my dad.”  

As Sam made his way back in, his jaw fell slightly agape at the scene he walked in on. “Dean, what the fuck is going on?”  

“It’s not him! I can feel it.”  

“Fine, you trust your gut and Riley so much, go ahead--kill me.” John said as his head fell and he waited for the shot. 

Dean held the gun pointed at him as his hand shook. What if he was wrong? He couldn’t find it in him to pull the trigger. 

“I thought so,” John said with an unfamiliar tone. As he looked up, his eyes were yellow and he smirked at the young hunters.  

Sam went to lunge in his direction, but was thrown against the wall and pinned there. Riley and Dean were next as the evil force went for them as well. The Colt had fallen to the floor and the three struggled to get free from the invisible power that held them. 

John calmly walked over and picked up the gun.  

“What a pain in my ass this thing’s been.”  

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Sam finally was face to face with the creature that had ruined his life. “We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”  

A large and evil grin made John look like a completely different person as he turned to Sam. “Well, you found me.”  

“But the holy water.”  

The demon scoffed. “You think something like that works on something like me?”  

“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Sam seethed.  

“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact...here.” John placed the Colt on the table. “Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy.” A chuckle of sadistic evil came from his mouth. Sam looked down at the gun, hoping and willing for it to be forced in his direction; only nothing happened. “Well, this is fun. I could’ve killed you a hundred times today, but this...” he sighed. “This is worth the wait.” Looking over at Dean, it knew just how to get under his skin. “Your Dad-- he’s in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says ‘hi’, by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”  

The wrath in Dean consumed the air. “Let him go or I swear to God--”  

“What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter. The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?”  

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”  

“What? You’re the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” John paused with a nasty smile. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot--I did. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”  

“You son of a bitch!” Riley screamed.  

“I wanna know why,” Sam started. “Why’d you do it?”  

“Oh, you mean why I killed your mommy and pretty little Jess?” the demon asked. “You know, he never told you this,” John said leaning in towards Dean. “...but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything.” He turned to look at Sam again. “And you want to know why? Because they got in the way.” The creature snickered and pivoted to face Riley. “Oh, and you? That’s why I had to get rid of your mommy and auntie.”  

Riley fought against the hold on her with all her might, still unable to move. She gritted her teeth together and shook with rage.  

“My plans...for you...for Sammy, for all the children like you.”  

“Listen,” Dean snarked. “You mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing.”  

As the demon turned in response, he got more aggressive. “Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth.”  

Challenging the thing that stood not even a foot away, he asked, “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”  

“You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you,” the demon taunted. “Not like you need them. Sam--he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.” It grinned from ear to ear as it went on. “And your girlfriend over there? You know you’re not good enough for her--that you’ll never be good enough. One day? She’ll leave you.”  

“Fucking liar!” Riley shouted as she tugged for freedom. With hate in her eyes and her brow furrowed, tears welled in her eyes. “I’m glad your children are dead. I’ll kill every single one of them, I swear to God.” A small laugh came through her words as she enjoyed hitting the demon where it hurt.  

A smug look came over the demon’s face, followed by a maniacal grin. It turned towards Dean and in that instant, the hunter yelled out in pain. He began to bleed heavily from his chest and to choke, unable to breathe.  

Riley realized she had provoked it too far she screamed, “no!”  

“Dean!” Sam yelled at the same moment.  

The demon made its way to Dean and looked at him suffering.  

“Dad! Dad, don’t let it kill me,” Dean pleaded, hoping John could hear him. As the demon continued to smile at him, Dean screamed out as his torture continued. Blood began to run from his mouth. “Dad, please...” he said with tears in his eyes.

Both of the others struggled with all they had in order to get free and cried in anger as Dean finally passed out from the pain. 

Riley had been trying to get into the demon’s head the entire time, but what she had forgotten to do was reach for John. She closed her eyes and tears fell as she focused on finding his soul. As if she had reached in and found his hand, Riley pulled him to the surface. “Fight, John! Fight it!”  

The yellow eyes turned to John’s chestnut browns as he breathed heavily. “Stop...” he whispered.  

Whatever had been holding the three hunters to the wall, suddenly released them. Riley felt drained and dizzy as she hit the floor. She had used so much of herself to find John.  

Sam scurried to the gun and pointed it at John. It turned around to face him, his eyes again a bright and frightening yellow. “You kill me, you kill daddy,” the demon smirked.  

“I know.” Sam fired the gun, shooting John in the leg.  

The demon hit the floor as the bullet worked its magic. Black smoke came from John’s body and visible shocks skimmed over him. John seemed to be unconscious.  

Gathering her strength, Riley ran to Dean’s side as he gasped for air. Sam followed her. “Dean? Dean...” she cried.  

“Oh, god, you’ve lost a lot of blood,” Sam whimpered.  

Dean’s voice was weak and wet with blood. “Where’s Dad?”  

“He’s here. He’s right here, Dean.”  

“Go check on him. Please...”  

As Riley cradled Dean’s head, she could feel the demon’s presence once again. Her eyes grew and she turned to Sam as he went to his father. “Sam! No! It’s still in there!” 

Yellow eyes shot open looking up at Sam with hunger. 

Remembering what she had done before, Riley shut her eyes and reached out for John. “Come back. Come back, John. Fight that son of a bitch!”  

John’s eyes went soft again as he regained control of his body. “Sammy!” he screamed. “I feel it. Son, you gotta shoot me. Shoot me! Shoot me in the heart!”  

Groaning in a fight for power, Riley held onto to John. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold you!”  

“Shoot me, son! Fucking do it, now! Please!” John wept as he begged his son to take the opportunity.  

Dean was weak and barely hanging on as he cried for his brother not to do it. The moment seemed to drag on as Sam cried, unable to find the strength to fire.

“Sammy, I’m begging you. End it. End it now.” John cried and shouted. “Kill me! Please!! Sam...”  

Sam trembled as he lowered the gun. He couldn’t live with himself if he killed his father. He finally realized that nothing was worth losing the people he loved and that included revenge.  

A storm of black smoke shot from John’s mouth as he screamed. The cloud that grew seemed to take all light from the room. After it had completely pulled from its vessel, the demon flew into the cracks of the wooden floor and was gone.  

All four hunters were shaking in pain, fear, and sadness. 

John sobbed, realizing their moment had come and gone.  

------  

Baby sped down the dark foggy road. Sam drove as fast as he could trying to get his loved ones to the nearest hospital. John sat broken and fatigued in the front seat next to him.

Holding Dean as he was barely able to stay awake, Riley continued to talk to him. “Hold on, Dean. Please hold on. Stay with me, babe.” Her hands were soaked in warm blood as she attempted to stop any more from pouring out. of his frail body.  

“Hold on, guys. The hospital’s only ten minutes away.” Sam was trying to stay calm and collected for his family.  

John shook his head softly. “I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this. Killing this demon comes first—before me, before everything.”  

“No, sir,” Sam replied. “Not before everything.”  

Riley’s face was still wet and stained from tears. She sniffled. “We still have the Colt and still have one more bullet left. As soon as we get everyone fixed up, we’ll start again. We’ll find it.”  

“She’s right,” Sam agreed. “I mean we already found the demon once--”  

Before he could finish his sentence, bright headlights came from the passenger’s side. In the blink of an eye, everything crashed around them as an eighteen-wheeler rammed into the side of the Chevy. Glass shattered and the tires squealed as it forced them off the road and into a ditch.  

The Impala sat in the darkness, its headlights still shining into the distance. It had crumpled on impact and barely even resembled their beloved car. The Winchesters and Riley were all covered in their own blood and each other’s as they lay motionless.  

Leftover loose glass softly fell as the black and empty eyes from the truck driver sat on them. 

Darkness wrapped around the crash and engulfed them like a blanket. 

They had lost. They had lost it all.  

------

Season 2 Chapter 1: In My Time of Dying

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series :)

Series Tag List: @coffee-obsessed-writer @waywardmoeyy @00slayer @adoptdontshoppets @crystallstaircase @salt-n-burn-em-all @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @becs-bunker @squirrelnotsam @fandommaniacx @death-unbecomes-you @kaylalaughlines @son-ova-bitch @huntersociopathavenger @flamencodiva @aaspiringhero  @gemini0410 @love-nakamura @klinenovakwinchester @cemmia  @da5haexowin  dunno why you weren’t tagged before. weird. LOVE YOU!

[atmyhiraeth]

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Send 🐻for a  memory from my muse’s childhood || accepting on Louis and Circe 

Age rundown: Louis - youngestStephen - 2 years olderMegan - 3 years older Lizzie - 4 years older 

Age 7

Both boys were shouting with laughter as Stephen tossed Louis to the ground, the younger of the brothers bouncing back quickly and throwing his smaller form at his big brother. This time Stephen didn’t throw Louis off him, but rather let the boy’s momentum send them both to the ground, where they lay wrestling on the damp ground for a few minutes until their oldest sister came stalking out. Already filled with self-importance and attitude, eleven-year-old Lizzie set both her hands on her hips and glared out at her brothers. “Mom says it’s time to come in and get ready for dinner.” She announced, wrinkling her nose at the boys. “You’re both dirty and gross.”

The two boys had paused when she started speaking, and now they exchanged a devious look. Abandoning their roughhousing, both muddy boys leapt from the ground and ran for their sister, who shrieked and fled back into the house, the laughter of her brothers chasing her into the house.

Still age 7

The four siblings were curled up across the couch and the loveseat in the living room watching Cheaper By The Dozen. Mom and dad were in the kitchen, talking and cleaning up after dinner and the children were left to their own devices.

“Fed Ex!” Lizzie howled with laughter. “Like Louis!” She threw a mocking look at her youngest sibling but before Louis could respond, Stephen was glaring at his sister.

“Shut up, Lizzie.”

“He’s not like anyone else, maybe he was fed-exed too.” This time it was Stephen who didn’t get a chance to respond, it was Louis who jumped up, eyes narrowed in hurt and anger, and threw himself at Lizzie, yanking her by the leg off the couch to fight with her like he would with Stephen. Lizzie shrieked- as she was wont to do- and Stephen jumped up right after Louis and pulled him off before he could do much more than jump onto his sister, and pulled him from the room.

“C'mon Lou, we’ll go play by ourselves. No girls allowed!” He shouted back at Lizzie, who was glaring at her brothers and looking to Megan for help, who had ignored the fight and looked away from her sister when Lizzie looked up at her. Megan had never been one to get involved in the others’ fights, and she wasn’t about to start now with a feud brewing between boys and girls. The two boys closed themselves away in Stephen’s room, made a sign ‘no girls allowed’ and hung it on his door, and Stephen let Louis play with his new racing game on his Xbox.

And Louis was able to relax for a few races, until Lizzie came pounding on the door demanding to be let in. The boys ignored her, snickering together until Lizzie unleashed the nuclear bomb.

Mom.

Who knocked, but it was a parental knock, a ‘I’m respecting your right to close your door but I’m also your parent and I can come in if I want to’ knock followed immediately by her unlocking the door and letting it swing open. “Boys, you have to be inclusive when you’re playing.”

“Lizzie was being mean!” Louis protested.

“Louis hit me!” Lizzie was quick to defend herself.

Their mother looked aghast at her youngest. “Louis is that true?” Her voice had sharpened, punishment inevitable in her voice.

“Lizzie started it!”

“Regardless, there is no hitting allowed in this house. Apologize to your sister.”

Stephen opened his mouth to protest but Louis didn’t see; all he saw was red as he threw the controller to the ground and stomped out of the room. “You always take her side!” He screamed, stomping as loudly as he could to his own room. “No one can come in!” He shouted before slamming the door shut.

Age 12

Phillip almost had him pinned in the grass, but at the last second Louis flipped them over and suddenly Phillip was the pinned rather than the pinner. Phillip kicked out, trying to dislodge Louis from above him, and started to succeed, which only made Louis laugh and struggle to keep the other boy pinned down.

Lizzie- still primped, still self-important, and still judgemental of everything Louis did- came out with a wrinkle of her nose that was exactly the same as it had been when she was eleven. “Louis!” She squalled. Whatever she had come out to say was lost to the disgust in her expression at the mud-covered pre-teens. “You are the most revolting person I’ve ever seen.” She snapped, eyes cold as they flicked between the two boys.

Phillip had paused, looking up at Lizzie from the ground, and Louis rolled off him, raking a hand through his hair with a grin. “Aww, must suck being so ugly you can’t afford to get dirty now and then.”

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed at him. “Better ugly than the accident baby.” She retorted with a mean curl of her lips, the hurt of his insult coming out in that old hurt she knew still stung him, that two-year difference between him and the next youngest as opposed to the single year difference between the older three. They all knew Louis wasn’t planned, but only Lizzie was ruthless enough to use it against him.

The red came back, and it was only when Phillip’s fingers wrapped around his wrist did he realize his hand had clenched into a fist. Held back by his best friend from physically lashing out, he lashed out instead with his words. “Maybe that’s why boys don’t want to kiss you- you’re too ugly.” It was a low blow, he’d heard her talking to one of her friends on her cell phone barely a week ago, knew it was a weak spot in Lizzie’s otherwise impenetrable armor of self-confidence. There was a guilty sense of satisfaction that twisted in his gut at the way her jaw dropped, at the shock and hurt that clouded her expression.

“You- you’re an asshole, Louis.” She bit back, turning on her heel and stalking back into the house with her head held high. When he looked back to Phillip, he felt the guilt worsen at the chiding look on his best friend’s face.

“What?”

“That was mean. She looked like she was going to cry.”

Louis shrugged. “It’s Lizzie, she’s fine. She’s probably planning her revenge right now.” And if not now, then soon. He’d pay for what he said, but it was worth it to have shut her up for once.

He could almost hear Phillip’s thoughts whirring, wondering if he should push the subject or let it go, and after a minute, with a quick strike of his fist against Louis’ shoulder, he jumped up from the ground and took off running. “You’re it!”

Louis yelped in delighted indignation and pushed from the ground to give chase. Tag. A kids’ game, yeah, but Phillip knew Louis, and knew that any game that pushed his limits physically was a game he’d always play. And while Louis may be the tougher of the two, Phillip had always been faster.

Age 22

Louis came waltzing into the foyer just as the door opened and Stephen came walking in, ushering in a pretty brunette. Louis paused, a smirk drawing over his lips at the sight of the girl he’d been told Stephen was bringing home. Stephen saw him, and Louis caught the look of apprehension that darted across his expression before he smiled, and felt that demon in his belly rise to the bait-that-wasn’t-bait. He turned a charming smile to the girl. “Hello there gorgeous. You are way too beautiful for this moron; what is my brother paying you to play happy couple with him? I promise I can double it.” He added with a wink.

She looked back to Stephen, confused and awkward, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “Mel can you give me a second with my brother?” She nodded and with a kiss to his cheek and a still-confused smile to Louis, she went down the hall to disappear behind the door that led to the living room.

Faster than Louis could react- and faster than he thought Stephen could move- Stephen had lunged for Louis, and wrapped an abnormally large arm around Louis’ neck and had him bent over in a headlock. “Look, I know you get off on being an asshole but I swear to god if you say something like that to her again I’m going to kick your ass.”

But though Stephen would always have the height and weight advantage, Louis was no longer the scrawny, untrained kid he was back in high school. His foot came out to hook around Stephen’s ankle, his hands grasped the arm around his neck, and he yanked his foot and pulled down on the arm in the same moment, throwing Stephen off balance and sending them both to the ground where they started grappling.

Melissa looked back to the door, starting to rise to see what the commotion was about, but the older sister, Elizabeth, stopped her with a hand on her knee, though it was Mr. Warren who spoke. “They’ll get it out of their system and be in in a minute. You know how boys are.”

“Louis likes to make a scene.” Elizabeth offered with a conspiratory smirk. “Every family’s got one, right?” She laughed.

Lou had taken on guys Stephen’s size before, guys fiercer and tougher than his brother who had only gotten into a handful of fights in his life. But despite the demon in his belly that pushed him to test Stephen’s patience with him, he didn’t want to hurt his brother. Stephen was just defending his girl, he wasn’t trying to truly hurt Louis, and Louis was loathe to genuinely hurt Stephen in return.

His hesitance cost him, though, and Stephen managed to pin him down despite his (semi)best efforts to free himself. “Get off me you jackass!”

But Stephen remained an immovable boulder atop Louis and looked down at him with none of the anger that so often bled into Louis’ eyes. The only thing in Stephen’s eyes was annoyance and a sad sort of understanding. “I’m not fucking around with you, Lou. If you can’t play nice for thirty damn minutes, leave.”

That succeeded in pausing Louis’ struggles. “The fuck?”

Stephen, assuming Louis’ lack of fighting back meant he was giving in, let go of Louis’ pinned wrists and rolled off his brother to stand, running a hand through his hair. Louis hated that after their fight, Stephen still could look just as put together with a single hand through his hair and a straightening of his shirt, whereas Louis would always be just short of presentable with his casual clothing and constantly-bruised skin. Stephen offered a hand that Louis ignored as he stood. “Either get along with everyone for half an hour or leave. I’m not gonna let you fuck this up.”

For a second, Louis was tempted to stay, to pretend he could get along with his family for more than a few minutes at a time, give Stephen the impression he wanted to give his girlfriend. But his brother was right; he got off on fucking with Lizzie, on being the black sheep. It was the only thing he’d ever excelled at in his family. He wasn’t smart like Lizzie or selfless like Megan, he hadn’t managed to turn his anger and physicality into a career like Stephen and he obviously hadn’t followed in either of his parents’ footsteps. All he was good at doing was fucking shit up.

So he left. He wondered for a minute if Stephen would follow him, but the front door closed behind him and no other footsteps followed him, and honestly… he couldn’t blame his brother.