#( came to the sickening realization that no matter how good an employee she was it didn't fix her or make her whole and? )

[pohlepen]

for all of frankie's downfalls and undesirable traits and toxicity, she was a really good nurse. and she loved it!! she worked hard, was a team player (picked up all the holiday shifts so people could be with their families), and i think her childhood trauma and adult mess of a life made her extra sympathetic and understanding of people going through the worst possible moments of their lives. no matter how unhappy the patients were to be there (because really who tf wants to to the ER) or however upset and angry they were, she never took anything personally and let it go at the door when she went home. however sad or fucked up or traumatizing the cases were, she was able to compartmentalize the grief and fear and continue on doing an effective, GOOD job. she liked being a "fixer" and she genuinely enjoyed caring for other people in a tangible way and being useful. absolutely there was a thrill factor and adrenaline junkie kind of enjoyment to the unpredictable aspect of the job too, but her main source of enjoyment was being able to be hands on and directly helping people. the happiest she ever was in life was working at the hospital and i don't know what exact moment triggered her into caring more about herself than everyone else, but i know that inkling of selfishness was always present within her. even at her most selfless, i would still say the majority of her was selfish. being good at her job didn't make her a good person and maybe it was supposed to but 🙊 who can say? idk, this is just a rambling.

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter Nineteen

*Pictures will be included in the wedding chapter*

Fake It Until You Make it Real

Louis had a restless sleep the entire night. Waking up periodically to an empty bed and looking at his phone finding another 'still at work' text. Louis gave up on sleep around four in the morning and instead headed downstairs. He laid on the couch and turned on the TV watching the first thing he could find to fill in the silence. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he was woken up by noises and whispers. Sitting up he looked around only to be disappointed when it was just his mother and Anne in the kitchen with their husbands.

"He's not home yet dear go back to sleep." Anne said but Louis ignored her and grabbed his phone seeing it was a little past six.

"We're making breakfast. What are you in the mood for?"

"Anything." Louis said rubbing his eyes tiredly as he laid back on the couch, "I hate this."

"You'll get used to it." Anne told him though Louis doubt that very much. He laid there for a while listening to their mothers in the kitchen before he heard keys at the front door. He sat up and stared at it as it was pushed opened then he fought the blanket to stand up and he jumped over the couch jumping onto Harry making him stumble.

"I've missed you too." Harry said hugging him and lifting him to let Louis better wrap around him. Harry walked further into the house carrying Louis,

"Good morning ladies."

"Hello Harry."

"Hi sweetheart. You look exhausted."

"I'm fine." Harry said as Louis unwrapped his legs from around his waist and pulled away to look at him. Harry indeed looked exhausted, he had dark bags under his eyes and his movements were a little sluggish.

"You should try to sleep a little bit." Louis told him

"No trust me when I lay down, I want to sleep not nap. I will be fine. Besides I am not missing dress shopping."

"Just a little cuddle on the couch?" Louis tried

"No. However, I will make some tea."

"I will make it. You go sit."

"If I sit, I'll sleep, and I don't-"

"Harry. Go sit. Now." Harry grumbled as he turned and headed to the living room while Louis headed further into the kitchen to get started on Harry’s regular morning tea. He made it just that extra bit stronger for him then he sat beside him on the couch handing him the mug of tea.

“Thank you Lou.”

“Of course. Anything else?” Harry didn’t verbally say anything only shifted and spread his legs and arms giving Louis enough space to slide in between his legs and have a much needed cuddle. Louis laid his cheek against Harry’s chest and had his arms encircle his waist as he laid on his stomach feeling Harry’s free hand rub his back squeezing him every so often.

Again Louis didn’t remember falling asleep, but as he opened his eyes he was relieved to notice that Harry was still there, but now had a large plate of food in his hand instead of his mug of tea.

“Good morning Darling. Want some? They gave me extra for you for when you woke up.”

“Yes please.” Harry smiled as he got a large helping of eggs on his fork then fed it to Louis when he sat up but stayed pressed against Harry.

“How were the kids for bedtime?”

“Maddie was a little upset, but my mom told her a ridiculously false story about me as a child that had her giggling well past bedtime.”

“Oh really? I guess I’ll just have to ask them about this false story.”

“There really isn’t any need for that Harold.” They got through a plate and some seconds before Harry was getting antsy to see the kids.

“Go on. They’ll be excited to see you.” Louis said amused as he took Harry’s empty mug after his third refill.

Harry grinned kissing his cheek before he hurried up the stairs. Louis could faintly make out Maddie’s excited squeal a few seconds later making him smile as he could just picture the scene they were no doubt making up there. Freddie’s shouted was followed moments later then minutes later Harry came walking in carrying both of the kids in his arms. Maddie was latched on his torso and Freddy was hanging around his neck but his arms supported them both and his grin was bright. It was as if the lack of proper sleep didn’t matter anymore with the kids awake and with him and he didn’t let any of his tiredness to show as he helped get them plates of food and take one of the twins setting Dory into a highchair. He helped feed Dory while effortlessly keeping up listening to Maddie and Freddie’s tales of their day yesterday.

“Please stop the heart eyes. It’s sickening.” Lottie said sliding into a barstool across from Louis effectively blocking his view of Harry getting syrup on his jaw by Ernie as he fed Dory and told Freddie how amazing and cool his dinosaur jungle sounded.

“Well excuse me for finding my Fiancé adorable surrounded by children. I mean look at him how can you not think he is adorable?” Louis said grinning when he saw Harry blush and glance over at him with a piece of pancake being smushed into his face by Ernie of course.

Chuckling Louis grabbed a pair of wipes and headed to the table deciding to help out just this once as he pulled a wipe out from the pack and took Ernie. Giving Harry the wipe he took a new one and cleaned his baby brother off then he leaned down and kissed Harry’s cheek before heading back to the kitchen where he resumed the conversation he had been in previously before being distracted by Harry.

****

Despite most of the women’s dresses being for Louis’ sisters Louis absolutely did not care one bit and it was all on Harry. Well okay Louis had opinions, but he didn’t really care about certain shades being just right or ruffles or lace or whatever. Lottie, Gemma, and Harry were the ones doing most of the shopping with Harry showing up a dress to Louis and if Louis didn’t care for the it then it went back on the rack, but if Louis didn’t have an opinion or actually liked it then it got put on someone’s arm either it be someone of their group or a poor employee who had quickly gotten a rolling rack to hang the dresses on. Louis focused on the flower girl dress and keeping the potential dresses hidden from Harry who Maddie didn’t want to see her dress until the wedding day. Which Louis was all for. Someone had to make Harry cry after all. Color didn’t bother Louis however he did love the idea of Maddie in a white dress or a different color than the other dresses and the suits so she stood out. Yes this was his day and Harry’s day, but it was also the kid’s day and her little winter shawl could be Freddie’s main color of the suit and his secondary color could be her dress color. Okay so Louis may have it all planned out, but that doesn’t mean he can’t entertain other ideas just in case.

“Hey Lou do we care about them having the same dress?”

“Not one bit. As long as one isn’t like satin and the other I don’t know Chiffon or whatever. The colors have to be consistent though. Similar but not exact.”

“Alright just making sure. You better not be checking price tags over there.”

“Don’t worry Daddy I’m not.” Maddie said Louis shook his head chuckling softly as he took the hanger from Maddie and hung it up.

Despite what Harry thinks Louis had checked the website of the shop and knew the most expensive dress was well into the overpriced budget Harry had set because despite being obviously well off he had obviously only listed shops that wouldn’t make Louis’ family out of place or hesitant in. Harry of course knew he knew of this but it went unspoken between them after the first time Louis saw the list and googled each store then looked at Harry who pretended to not have a clue why Louis was staring at him while he had worked on something on his laptop. Louis had tried to stare it out of him for the better part of an hour before he gave in and just kissed his cheek and told him he would tell his family the game plan. Besides the extra money could be used in the family vacation they were still planning.

“What do you think LouLou?” Louis was pulled from his thoughts a few hours later as he stared at Maddie in the long sleeve white ball gown dress with a dark red fur shawl that stood out against the white beautifully making Louis tear up.

“I think it looks absolutely beautiful on you. Do you like it?”

“I do. I love it. I’m a princess watch me twirl.” Twirling the dress spun with her and Louis could almost see her all grown up twirling in a wedding dress and he had to quickly fight that back before those thoughts got the better of him, “Do you think Daddy with like it?”

“I think Harry is going to love it and will cry just seeing you in this. So is this the one my dear?”

“Yes it is.”

“Good I agree I love this one. Your dads will be the luckiest dads there to have a little princess to dance with.” The employee said grinning widely as she helped Maddie into another twirl.

“LouLou you’ll dance with me?” Maddie asked shocked

“Of course I’m going to dance with you, can’t let your dad have you all the time now can I? Your dad and I are going to have lots of dances for you and Freddie and as a whole together. We’re still outlining that part, but rest assured we will all dance together at least twice.” Maddie grinned hugging his middle

“You’re the best LouLou.” Louis grinned leaning now to kiss her head before he had her go change out of the dress while he went to find Harry.

“Hey Haz oooh having fun girls?” Louis said grinning as he saw his sisters in a few dresses, “They need you up there to schedule fittings.”

“Really? Already?”

“Already? It’s been a few hours Harry.”

“Yeah I’m shocked it didn’t take longer. I’ll be back ladies.” Louis debated on whether to follow Harry, but decided to stay with the girls.

“How is it going?”

“We have a few more to try on, but I think we all have our favorite.” Lottie told him, “So this is really happening huh? You’re marrying someone.”

“It was bound to happen one day you realize.” Louis said amused as he adjusted one of her scraps, “Besides I think I could have picked worse.”

“I don’t know you definitely could have also picked better. Seriously how did my brother get you?” Gemma asked making Louis roll his eyes playfully shaking his head.

“I think you’re wrong. You’re brother is absolutely lovely.”

“Ew if you’re about to start gushing love poetry about him let me get a bin for my vomit first.” Rolling his eyes Louis sent them back into the dressing rooms telling them he would torture them back at the house.

****

They were only back at the house for an hour when Louis saw Harry dozing off every few minutes while playing dinosaur jungle with Freddie. Smiling at the scene Louis slid off the couch then crawled over to Harry and straddled the back of his thighs as he wrapped his arms around his chest kissing his cheek.

“You should go to sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re falling asleep as you do very bad roars. If you were a T-Rex I’d laugh at you.” Harry huffed a tired laugh but otherwise remained where he was stubbornly refusing to give in, “Hey Freddie you know what would be really fun?”

“What?”

“If we convince Nana and Anne to take all the kids and grandkids to the indoor trampoline park.”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!”

“Okay go get Maddie and got to Anne because she’s the weakest. She’ll say yes if you give her those really big puppy eyes.”

“Okay Papa.” Freddie stood and ran to the playroom where most of the kids were and Louis grinned at Anne who had of course heard all of this sitting only a few feet from them.

“Come on naptime mister.” Louis said kissing Harry’s shoulder

“Fine. Mom you’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be fine dear you go nap. We’ll keep the kids out until it gets later, maybe take them out to dinner as a group.”

“Good luck.” Louis said standing up and helping Harry up just as the kids ran into the room.

“Kisses first.” Harry said grabbing Freddie and Maddie and kissing them both on their heads, “I love you two and If you two convince them you two be good.”

“We will Daddy.” Maddie promised kissing Harry’s arm that was around her before she and Freddie escaped his hold and ran to Anne. Louis took Harry’s hand and led him up the stairs into the bedroom where he immediately went about unbuttoning Harry’s shirt for him.

“I could have slept with them here. Trust me I can be a very heavy sleeper.”

“I know but this way they get to spend time with our family and we can nap in peace because I’m tired too. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I’m sorry. Unfortunately shifts like those do happen, not as often, but more than a few times a year it seems like especially around the holidays and weekends that are just a tad busier than usual due to a game or something.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Louis pulled down Harry’s pants then sat him down leaving him only in his briefs as Louis felt his hands grab his thighs pulling him closer, “You and I both know you don’t have it in you right now.”

“Oh I have it in me, it won’t be good and Ill never claim it ever in my life, but I could do it.” Louis laughed as he pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead, “It won’t be good but it would be done.”

“No. I would much rather have no sex than bad sex. Bad sex just ruins entire day.”

“We couldn’t have bad sex if we tried. We could have not good sex, but never bad.”

“Want to test that theory?”

“I do now.”

“No.” Harry chuckled as he gave his thighs a squeeze before he stood up and pulled the covers back while Louis quickly undressed himself. He climbed in bed beside Harry and curled up against his chest wrapping his arms around his waist and within seconds Harry was fast asleep breathing deeply while Louis laid there for awhile listening to the kids get packed up. When the house was silent and the last beep from the alarm was heard Louis snuggled deeper into the covers and Harry and fell asleep.

[thirsty-x1]

Tulips | Han Seungwoo

Request:

Hiya! I’m back with another request. Imagine a CEO Seungwoo, who often intimidates everyone he works with, gets smitten and whipped for the new secretary [who he might have met in the club the week before and had an AMAZING and fun one night stand with ;) ] maybe it sounds like a smut (and there can be hehe) but I was picturing an absolute fluff 😀 the big bad scary seungwoo all flustered and nice to y/n (making everyone’s jaw drop).

↬ Pairing: Seungwoo x fem!reader.

↬ Genre: Fluff, minor mentions of smut.

↬ Warnings: some explicit language, slight harassment from one of the other characters.

↬ Word Count: 2.2k

↬ Song Recommendation: “Tulips” by Snuper. Such a fucking amazing song, really, they deserve better.

The headache got stronger as he flipped through the papers in front of him, groaning in frustration as he noticed the mistakes that his employees had made on numerous occasions. Seungwoo wasn’t the kind to let anger take over him, usually patient and calm, but whenever he was tired and annoyed about something, it showed on his semblance: his shoulders stiff, his back straightening up, passing his hands through his hair a few times and brushing the edge of his nose with his fingers. Somehow, the fact that he never yelled and never lost his temperament made everyone become more scared of him in the office, always waiting for the situation where he would finally show his true colors, which hadn’t happened in the last few years.

Going out with friends and losing control wasn’t what he had expected to happen the night before, and neither ending up with an unknown girl in an unknown room, questioning each small thing about the world. He smiled slightly remembering the conversation and her voice, the way she had laughed when he accidentally burped, the friendly feeling of regret making way on his mind for not asking her phone number. His fingers folded the corner of the pages absentmindedly and the images started to flash behind his eyes.

Loud music, shining lights and another round of shots being delivered to the table where he was at, Seungyoun pushing a glass in his direction while Wooseok screamed some gibberish, Hangyul quickly shushing him and causing Yohan to giggle. It wasn’t long until the alcohol started to affect him although not enough to go and dance ridiculously in the middle of the place the way that Seungyoun and Hangyul were, nor to talk to other girls the way that Yohan and Wooseok were trying to do. At least until a hand appeared before him, the obviously drunk girl smiling sweetly at him and insisting in taking him for a dance. He flushed, declining the offer as respectfully as he could, eyes opening as her smile faded and sat on the vacant spot next to him, finishing his glass in one gulp.

“Don’t you want to have some fun?” He stared incredulously at her. “Let out all that stress from work, forget about the world for a bit?”

Seungwoo frowned, as if avoiding his responsibilities were a choice. “I think I can handle it.” His gaze followed her every movement, mostly worried about his wallet or phone being taken away, but her hand got closer to him, fingers brushing his forehead and then to the corners of his mouth, stretching a smile.

“You look prettier like this.”

After that, he doesn’t remember when or how they ended up on the hotel, her riding him and caressing the tattoo on his shoulder, kissing his cheeks but avoiding his lips the same way she did the whole night. There is another empty memory, his suspicion is he was asleep, and then seeing her laugh at him, the sheets covering her body partially as she turned around and talked with him, patiently waiting until he sobered up. It was then when they connected, or that’s how he decided to name it, talking about their problems and difficulties. Maybe it was because he wasn’t going to see her again, or maybe because since she didn’t know him she couldn’t feel guilty for him or pity him, but for the first time in a while, he felt comfortable letting all his feelings out. When he finished, he expected some kind of reaction from her, something like a sad look or an awkward silence, but she took one of the tulips of the vase next to the bed and put it on his ear, mumbling a soft “walk a flower path” while smiling sweetly.

She had left before him, the room feeling way too bigger and cold without her presence when he woke up again. They hadn’t exchanged numbers, not even their names… so that was a one night stand, what his friends always recommended to feel better, but it made him feel worse than before. Knowing he had to go back to work, to the world of responsibilities, to the CEO Han Seungwoo and leaving behind his identity as a random stranger.

The night played on a loop on his brain, his headache starting to soothe until he realized he had been doodling on the cover of one of the projects he had to present soon. With a long sigh, he looked for the file on the computer, printing it again and jolting as a cup of water and an aspirin were placed on his desk.

“I already interviewed all the applicants. This one seems the most suited one.” The old woman gave him a curriculum. “Now stop complaining and take that, it will make you feel better.”

It pained him that Ms. Lee was going away, getting a new one that would understand him as much as her was going to be complicated, the first reason why he asked the lady to hold the interviews since she would know better what suited him.

His eyes stopped on the picture, or rather the lack of it. “No way to identify herself?”

“She said it wasn’t necessary to look at her physical appearance when she was perfectly qualified in all the other areas.” Seungwoo raised his eyebrows. “She is pretty, if that is what you are asking.”

“I don’t care about that as long as he does her work right. Tell her she starts in a week.”

The rest of the week went by with no major incidents. Seungwoo was at the resting lounge, waiting for the machine to finish with the coffee when he listened to a few of his workers speaking.

“Did you see his new secretary? Sure it was a big change…”

Were they talking about him? How come they had met her already? He had yet to meet up with her, it being her first day.

“Who cares about that? He barely looks at the women in the office in the eye, we can have her for ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah, as if she would notice you.”

He had heard enough, the chatter bothering him as he forgot about his coffee and walked closer, standing imposingly behind the group of men, clearing his throat a few times before speaking.

“I suppose you have finished with the report I asked, Mr. Kim?” A slight annoyance invaded him as he saw the color drain from his employee’s face.

“Uh, n-not really–”

“I want another five, each based on the development and progress of the departments. For tomorrow. Hand them in to my secretary.”

Not giving them the chance to complain, he turned around and walked away. It sickened him the way they were always lazing around, always chatting and criticizing everyone for doing their work while they did none of theirs. This kind of acts always angered him, his pace becoming quicker while ignoring the stares of the other workers as he got inside his office, sitting down on the chair and covering his face while trying to calm down.

“Uh, I can come back in another moment…” The voice startled him, he didn’t notice anyone inside the office, and the second his hands slipped off, he froze in place and so did the other person.

It was her.

It was the girl from that night, standing up behind her desk a few meters away from him. Her eyes opened wide, stuttering a few times while fidgeting with her fingertips. He could feel people staring at them through the glass doors, waiting to catch something that was worthy gossiping over.

“Ah, secretary y/ln, yes. Sorry for that.” His eyes pleaded that she would follow his plan, and it must have worked because next she walked out the desk with a few folders in hand.

“Here are the reports that you asked for yesterday, Ms. Lee told me to give them to you.” She cleared her throat, trying to hide a smile as she read his schedule, and if he was honest, he didn’t pay attention to anything at all.

That’s how it went the rest of the next weeks. She would fill every single task even before he could ask, and he wouldn’t ask because his shyness overtook him. Whenever they were in the same room, his eyes would drift to her, a smirk twitching on the corner of his lips as he caught small habits of her, quickly calling it a day if he noticed she was tired, changing his schedules to fit hers… They hadn’t talked about that night since they grew comfortable with each other, the talk not being necessary anymore.

Of course, everyone had noticed the change in Seungwoo, even if he tried to hide it. He would act coldly only to turn into a melted pool whenever she walked by, completely serious during meetings and starting to stutter whenever she came into the room, his tone when reprimanding someone softening if she was around, how he walked with two cups of coffee into his office and left one on her desk, or when he laughed at a joke she made when spending time with her co-workers, blushing if he was found out. It was too obvious, no matter how much effort he put into not making it that way.

It was early in the morning, a few employees here and there as he walked to the office before stopping on the door when he listened to her speaking over the phone.

“… good, he’s good, mom… No, my boss hasn’t tried to touch me, he isn’t that kind of man… Why does it matters if I work on my birthday? He worked through his as well… No, he isn’t forcing me to work through it… No, I’m not saying it just so that you don’t worry about it… The rest- they treat me well, a few out of place comments as always… I waited for a long time to get this job and it’s really good so I can deal with that…”

He didn’t wait for the conversation to be over. In a minute he was outside, roaming around the streets, his shoes making a loud sound against the floor as he walked faster, sighing in relief as he found what he was looking for. Hurriedly went inside the shop, picked what he thought was the best and came back into the building, not really caring about the way the males were watching him and ignoring the soft gasps from the women as he entered the office only to find the so-called Mr. Kim leaning over his secretary’s desk.

“Just once, darling, c’mon… you want all this attention with the outfits you wear.”

“Leave me alone, really, this isn’t fun.” It pained him to see her going through it, wondering whether he should interrupt the scene. It would certainly cause havoc in the office, but…

“Oh I don’t care if you find it fun, I could easily force myself on you, you slut–”

“I believe this is enough, Mr. Kim.” Seungwoo’s tone was cold as ice, his hand on the man’s shoulder tightening its grip as he pulled him away from her. “You are fired.”

“What? It’s not what you think! She was the one that–!”

“There are cameras in this room, so please abstain yourself from lying. And the reason isn’t merely because of this incident; your lack of discipline and responsibility for your work it’s undeniable, and this is considered harassment, so I will kindly ask you to pick your personal belongings and get out. We can schedule a meeting to talk over all the mistakes and reasons for me to have taken this decision.”

The silence could almost be heard, the rest of the people outside the office completely in shock at the situation, which in a certain way was something positive: even if he chose to sue him or something, he had the evidence and the witnesses to win the case over. Although from the way that Mr. Kim was shaking, it didn’t look like that was going to happen at all. As soon as he left, Seungwoo ordered everyone to go back to their work, closing the door for some privacy as he checked on the woman.

“Y/n, are you okay? Do you need anything?” She looked at him with fondness at the mention of her name instead of her last name, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“No, that was good enough, but… What are those for?” Her chin pointed at the bouquet that rested on the small coffee table between them.

He grabbed them hurriedly, his cheeks blushing. “I heard you say it was your birthday and… Well, I thought that a gift couldn’t hurt…”

“Hmm, tulips in the workplace, Mr. Han?” She caressed the petals slightly. “You sure have a good memory considering you were pretty gone that night.”

It was that joking tone, the same one that she had used back in the club and on the hotel room. He had missed it after listening to her talk to him formally, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

“It was an interesting night, to say the least.” A slight knock on the glass door caught his attention, the woman behind it signaling him to get out. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Mr. Han?” He turned around right before going out the door. “I hope we get to walk on the flower path for a long time.”

I intended this to be much longer but the distractions around were just too many... so this is it ㅠㅅㅠ

~Nani

| Masterlist |

[mirror-juliet]

~Searching For Soulmates~ Park Seonghwa X Male Reader

Requested by Jax on tumblr.

Since there isn't a lot of male readers that read my things (To my knowlege) I decided to make this one special by using Jax's name, the one who requested this. I hope you enjoy it bub.

Tagging: @themainineveruse @atinybrew @vocalyunho @hongjoongs-hoe​

Love story's are so over-written these days. So hard to write about. They say write the unexpected, but everyone's already done the unexpected. If you write it wrong, nothing will become of it. If you excel in writing the impossible-you are praised beyond belief. Unexpected love story's are impossible. Most story's are Frankensteins of other stories, stitched together by a dream and desperation. But the well known authors dreamt those dreams before you could write them. You'd just be copying them if you made a story close to the lines of theirs, if the two characters hate eachother, or if they don't know eachother. Who's to say you didn't dream those dreams first, And why wont the world let you dream those dreams more than once. Aren't dreams supposed to be eternal. An extension of our thoughts, how can someones thoughts be wrong. There is no right way to think, it isn't a math formula with a set outcome. So why have people decided that we must think in a set algorithm?

The world's too busy thinking about their own love theory to worry about a simple love story written for a college literature class. Only the teacher would read it, so why's Jaxson stressing about it so much? There are set outcomes to what grade he'll get so it doesn't really matter how he writes the report.

"Here's your Pomegranate potion, Weirdo. You come to a coffee shop and order tea." Maggie, Jaxon's favorite barista and best friend since they were younger ruffles his hair. "You're the one who dragged me here today. I could have finished my report at home."

"There was no way i was going to let you stay cooped up in that apartment one more day. It's a lovely atmosphere here," She's not wrong about the atmosphere, it has the right amount of teenager swag mixed with an almost professional look. "Plus if you get bored you can entertain yourself by watching me train the new guy." Jaxson pays close attention to Maggie now

"That's today?.. And you are going to be the one to train him? Lord help this shop now." Maggie attempts to wack Jaxson upside the head, but he's too fast for her tiny fist of rage "That isn't funny Jax. I'm a good trainer, After all i was trained by the glorious booknerd that is you." She bows and holds her hand out gesturing to him. The boy wonders why he's friends with such a weirdo in the first place, but he supposes it's because he acts just like her. "What was he like, the new guy. Do you know?"

"You could always ask me what i'm like, pretty boy." Jaxson freezes in place, fear painting him as he watches Maggie wear the most shit-eating grin of the century. "Seonghwa, it's nice to see you again. This is Jax, he's off today but he's one of the workers here. Jax meet Seonghwa." Jaxson turns to greet Seonghwa, But holy God's why did he have to call him pretty boy? He's the pretty boy for gods sake! "You were talking up a storm just a moment ago, what happened; Cat got your tongue?" Curse him for having such a beautiful face because Jaxson does nothing but stare and hold his mouth agape! Seonghwa chuckles and goes behind the counter next to Maggie. "When do i start coach?"

Jesus his smile is pretty and he knows it. Jaxson watches him roll up his sleeves into uniform cuffs, his forearms are way too toned for his good, his tan skin extenuates them so much. Despite how good looking he is, he is quite clumsy with the espresso machine. It's expected since he explained to Maggie "I don't like bitter things so I've never used one of these." He has coffee grinds all over his apron and at the bottom of his white shirt. Jaxson had given up working on his report to examine Seonghwha and his arms. Both of them were covered in tattoo's, he cant help but wonder if one of them are perhaps his soul-mark he tries to hide in the cluster of ink. Maggie never tried to hide her mark, though it did look quite odd to only have the veins of butterfly wings on her cheek. Her soulmate, Yeosang did try to cover his up. It looked like 'an unattractive pink blob' in his opinion. Though, Maggie thought it looked cute in pictures, when they kissed for the first time, their marks melded into one. Now Maggie spends most of her weekends looking for Jaxson's soulmate even though he's made it very obvious he doesn't want to find them. After searching forever, he got tired and was convinced that his soulmate had either not existed or died before he had ever met them.

"Seonghwa you'll be okay, i'm just leaving you to make some of these for lunch hour. You're doing much better than an hour ago." Maggie sings sweet words to Seonghwa who seems to be shaking like a leaf in the wind. "I don't think i should make anything for anyone to consume."

"Okay, make Jaxson something and then prove me wrong. If he decides it's too horrible then he'll take your place for the day and we'll train you more."

"Why do you have to drag me into this?" Jaxson groans, he was enjoying his day off-well, not really; But Maggie doesn't know that! Then again, she probably does given the knowing look on her face. After a few minutes of a silent stare match between the two he gives in. "Make me an iced americano." The tan color leaves Seonghwa's face as Maggie leans against the counter, leaving him all alone with the coffee maker and his wits (Which arent a lot when it comes to the machine). His toned arms are clumsy with everything, making a much bigger mess than needed, Jaxson could have sworn everytime something got dirty Seonghwa cringed. After five minutes of entertainment Seonghwa Shakily sets the drink in front of Jaxson. "Whats wrong newbie, see a ghost?" Seonghwa glares at that, upset his own joke was used against him. In retaliation he mutters something under his breath that Maggie nor Jax can quite make out.

He takes the drink and puts it to his lips, only having it on his tastebuds for mm, less than two seconds before spitting it back in the cup. He wipes his mouth and grabs his things. "I'll be back out in a minute. Don't let him near customers." Seonghwa watches Jaxson walk into the employees lounge and come back out in uniform, buttoning his sleeves up and shoving his way behind the bar. "I want you to clear off tables, you'll have to move fast because this place gets packed in about fifteen minutes." But Seonghwa isn't moving, Only staring down at the shorter male. "What?" Jax's getting impatient as he's wasting time standing around when he could be preparing for the forty people he's going to have to deal with for the next two hours.

"Can i take you on a date?" Maggie drops the cup she's holding, hot espresso now on her new martins, the only thing saving her from burns. "What?" Is all Jaxson says because Seonghwa's hot! This is a manga scenario that only happens every blood moon, no love story has ever prepared him for this moment because any situation in a manga would never be accepted by society. And what't the point? Whats the point of dating someone that isn't your soulmate? "Go clean tables please."

The three of them don't talk about the situation the rest of the day, only trading words to explain an order or if they need to wash more mugs. But they do watch eachother. Seonghwa watches Jaxson make coffee and tea at an alarming rate, Jaxson watches Seonghwa clean tables with so much care; never leaving a cup ring. And Maggie watches the tension in the room between the two grow it's like candy burning to the side of a pot. Sickening but sweet. At the end of lunch rush, it's nearly time for the quaint little coffee shop to close it's eyes for a good night's rest. You think for how many people visit it, it would stay open longer than Three pm.

Yeosang came to pick up Maggie for their date night leaving Jaxson to close at the shop. That isn't the plan tonight because for the love of Hade's Jaxson cant figure out why the manager decided to hire Seonghwa other than his looks. Every drink he's had Seonghwa make in the past thirty minutes he has managed to burn or fuck up magically somehow. "Why is making coffee so hard?" The tall man groans out, backing against the counter away from the machine. "It really isn't. You've just added way too many steps to it. Here hang on." Jaxson grabs a fresh cup and starts up the machine once again. The poor thing might be overused by tomorrow.

It's crazy how simple Jaxson makes it look to Seonghwa, not only that but how elegant he is while doing it. His fingers flip switches effortlessly, pouring the milk into a beautiful leaf shape he's convinced the shorter man shouldn't be able to make. But he almost does it with his eyes closed. Seonghwa should be able to make designs like that- "What?" He says, realizing Jaxson must have asked him a question given the quizzical look on his face.

Jaxson's laugh is pretty, Seonghwa decides. It's just the right amount of baritone with the ever so slightest bit of soprano. "I'm telling you to take the coffee so you can see what it's supposed to taste like."

"Aren't we supposed to be teaching me how to make this instead of drink it?" Jax jumps to sit on the counter, taking his own teacup in his hands. "I needed a break and the machine is making sad noises, so here we are. Go on, taste perfection." Jaxson's cocky words brink an obnoxious smirk to the older's lips. Because there's no way his coffee is that good.

But it is

Seonghwa isn't one for bitter taste, hell he doesn't like coffee. But the cup Jaxson handed to him it seems he's refusing to put down. "Woah, woah. You're gonna give yourself a stomach ache." Said boy causing concern hops down to drag the cup away from him. "I'm sorry, i didn't think you had to drink it slow." A pinkish hue covers Seonghwa's neck. "I don't like coffee usually...." He trails off.

"Seonghwa." Jaxson's voice is gentle, Seonghwa wonders if he's gotten sad somehow. "Why are you working here? You don't like Coffee and you absolutely suck dick at making it. So why?" Jax hops on the counter once again and Seonghwa has to avert his eyes from the smaller male, intrusive thoughts invading his head. He shakes his head hoping to get rid of the thought like an etch and sketch. Anywhere but his eyes is better, does he not think before talking? Seonghwa thinks. "I, like most people in the world need money. This quaint little coffee shop so happened to be the only one hiring. So i had to get it before i ran out of money for rent. Why are you working here?" A question for a question, fair enough right? "I like the aesthetic of this place, it's calming to me. And it pays fairly well." The two sit in silence, sipping their respective drinks, only sharing glances at one another.

"Say whats on your mind pretty boy, You've been looking at me with a question in your eyes." Seonghwa smirks, only making Jaxson blush harder from the nickname. God he wished Seonghwa would use a different name. "Sorry. I was just wondering where you used to work before here. "

"I worked in a tattoo shop." He crosses his arms, the drink from before long since drained. "It was a pretty good gig too, i was the only apprentice that was allowed to work on people, plus i got half off tattoo's...if i let them do it drunk." Seonghwa looks up into the air, a meloncholy smile on his face. "It was the best job of my life."

"Can i ask you another question, if you don't mind." He lets out an approving sound, not bothering to look down. "If you were so happy....Why leave?" Jax realizes he's touched a soft spot when Seonghwa looks back at him, his eyes are hurting, hidden behind a small smile. "Aren't you just a nosy little one." He takes a deep breath "The old man that owned the shop passed, it was taken over by his daughter. She decided to turn it into a hair salon, kicking everyone that worked there out of a job. It was quite selfish of her, don't you think?"

Jaxson nods his head, wondering what it must have felt like to suddenly loose a friend and a means of living. Suddenly the cup of cold tea is more intriguing than the saddened face of Seonghwa. "My turn~" Said man sings out, tipping Jaxson's head up with his finger. "When can i take you out on a date?"

"O-oh, you were serious about that......."

"Why wouldn't i be?" Jax pulls away from him, hopping down to begin cleaning dishes. "Because i don't like dates." Seonghwa takes the cup out of his hand. "So, don't think of it as a date. Think it as if were just a couple of friends hanging out for an afternoon." A sarcastic chuckle leaves Jax's lips. "But it's still a date."

"Will you at least give it a shot? If you don't enjoy yourself in the first fifteen minutes i'll even take you home." Both of them stop movement, Jaxson wondering why Seonghwa is so hellbent on getting him to go on a date. "Fine. Only fifteen minutes, where will you be taking me?" Jax snatches the mug back from Seonghwa. "That." He pokes Jaxson's nose "Is for me to know and you to find out, tomorrow at two?"

"If you mean a.m. then hell no."

***********

Seonghwa had in fact not meant two am, but precisely when the autumn's sun hits Jaxson's glasses just right to blind him. Where even was Seonghwa? He had told Jaxson to meet him in front of the Cafe five minutes early just in case he got there before.

He hadn't.

He hadn't shown up the first five minutes after the intended meet time. Where the hell was he? Turning the corner onto the Cafe street, the loud motorcycle that was annoying Jax approached in front of the Cafe. Only once the rider pulled off his helmet did he realize Seonghwa was the knight under the mask. A knight wearing a leather jacket to reveal a blue floral shirt tucked into black skinny jeans with no chains this time. Instead he's swapped them out for makeup smudged onto his face, making him seem even more attractive than he already is. "You expect me to get on that? Wearing this." He motions to his outfit, denim jeans, a striped sweater and sneakers. Obviously not appropriate apparel for a Motorcycle. "You'll be fine pretty boy. Hop on." Seonghwa pats the seat behind him, pulling out a second helmet. "The five minutes i spent waiting count against your time."

"The ride doesn't though, Deal?"

Jaxson wishes the ride would have counted against Seonghwa, they've been driving for the past thirty minutes on the highway. He swears Seonghwa's speeding on purpose for Jax to have to cling onto his torso so the small boy wouldn't fly off the bike. Once the bike ride was finally starting to be bearable, it stops. "We here?" A chuckle from Seonghwa. "Do you think i stopped here for gas?" It's an aquarium, It could be worse, it could be a movie theater. "C'mon, i wanna show you a lot here."

A lot he did show Jaxson, from river bass to sharks in a dive tank. He even payed for the extra experiences like holding hermit crabs or feeding the sea turtle from a pole. Jaxson has to admit, he is having fun; he didn't leave two hours ago when the fifteen minutes were up. "Oh, c'mon we're at the touch tank!" Seonghwa Pulls Jaxson through sliding doors to a room with quite a large touch tank in the middle. In it are stingrays of all sizes. He leaves momentarily to come back with two small cups of something foul smelling. "We can feed them by hand." Seonghwa hands the cup of sardines to Jaxson, not waiting for him to grab one before taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. "Just put it between your knuckles, their teeth are on their bellies so don't be afraid."

Easy for him to say as he seems to have no fear towards the slimy sea pancakes, his arm is already submerged past his elbow, getting his rolled up sleeve wet. "This big one i named Calvin. Say hi Calvin." The large stingray swims on the bottom to take the fish from his human friend. He even lets Seonghwa give him rubs and pit pats. It's quite cute to see him acting so young and happy. "Well go on, the worst that can happen is one of them tickle you."

Jaxson mustered up the courage to roll up his sleeves, only dipping his hand about forearm deep. Shortly a small sea pancake fly's over and goes straight for the fish. Thanking the boy by flapping his wings against his arm. More cute giggles coming from Seonghwa. The more fish he goes through, Jaxon finds himself moving closer and closer to Seonghwa. Eventually the two are brushing hands, Seonghwa startles him by grabbing ahold of it. "If you wanted to hold hands you could have asked." He smiles, not one of shitery or mockery. But a genuine smile, directed at Jaxson.

A warm tingle pricks both of their arms, on the verge of being hot. "Look." Jaxson points to their interlocked arms. A white snake being engraved into the knot of his black snake. The opposite of Seonghwa. He freaks out and pulls his arm out of the water to inspect the new tattoo. "Wha-"

"Mommy Mommy look! They got their soul-mark!" A little girl bounces next to them, pulling on her mother's arm. "Is that what this is?"

"It looks like it." Seonghwa hands a paper towel to the smaller of them. "Wanna go get dinner?" It took some convincing but Jax finally agreed to go to dinner, there they talked about what it meant, and how Jaxson could have possibly missed the white snake in the cluster of Seonghwa's tattoo's. It is the only white tattoo he has after all.

A/N: This feels kinda bad compared to my other works but my friend who read it over says it quite nice. (They prefer to remain anon) Jax bub i hope you liked this. I had some troubles making it but i think it's okay. Remember to like and reblog if you're reading this on tumlr

[hereidinathoreauwrites]

Chapters: 6/7 Fandom: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Joan Characters: Zoey Clarke, Joan (Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist) Additional Tags: it's the headcannon fic!, your #2 choice, two people start having sex for fun and oops they're in love, Women Loving Women, Developing Relationship, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bisexual Female Character, joan's pov, so I wouldn't have to deal with songs, Lesbian Sex, Fluff and Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Cuddling & Snuggling, Post-Coital Cuddling, From Sex to Love, Sex Toys, Bad Dirty Talk, zoey has a lot of emotions, but she doesn't want to talk about them, Joan is concerned but doesn't know how to ask

Chapter 6: I Can’t Help (Falling in Love)

“I think I’ve been…working you a little too hard lately.” That was the best she could manage in her office the following day. 

Zoey seemed surprised. “What? No…no everything’s…”

Joan held up a hand, wincing. “Zoey…I hurt you. You’re limping.” It still sickened her to see the damage she’d done. “Let’s…cool off a bit?”

Zoey looked like she wanted to protest more but she only said: “O…okay…”

“I dont mean stop!” Joan insisted, her heart rate picking up, “Just…” she sighed, hating herself. “look, what are you doing tonight?”

“N…othing…?”

Joan tried to smile. “Want to…go out and do something? No funny business: you need to heal. Just…let me make the other night up to you…as a friend?” It was all she could think of to start trying to apologize to Zoey for her recent string of bad behavior.

Zoey considered for only moment but it was long enough that Joan started to feel real fear of rejection crawling through her insides. Finally, the coder shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”

They settled on a dive bar several blocks away from work. It was just seedy enough that no one they knew was likely to be there but upscale enough that Joan didn’t fear for their wallets.

She bought Zoey a drink and they tried to chat over the music. Zoey was friendly and easy-going, telling Joan all about the pre-baby antics going on in her brother and sister-in-law’s life with an unforced smile. But Joan still saw the occasional wince as Zoey shifted in her seat. She took note of every time Zoey’s hand drifted to her lower stomach.

Joan felt unworthy. She didn’t deserve to be here. She kept her hands to herself, lest they wander the younger woman’s form again and reawaken the urges to harm her. If nothing else, she was determined to salvage their friendship from this disaster. And so she wasn’t allowed to touch Zoey, not after everything she’d put her through and certainly not if their friendship was going to survive this.

But Zoey couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Small taps on her knee, brushing her hand where it rested on the bar, leaning forward to speak into Joan’s ear. Every touch set Joan on edge and she couldn’t tell if she liked it or hated it.

After awhile, she excused herself to use the bathroom.

Joan leaned against the sink and stared at her reflection. The alcohol was making her sad and magnifying the guilt still twisting up her insides. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just tell her I’m sorry?

The words felt hollow by now. Was the fact that Zoey was here and treating her so casually enough? Had the coder already forgiven her…?

Joan shook her head. No. No way. Even Zoey, the woman who’d forgiven her own best friend for selling out to the 6th floor couldn’t possibly forgive her that quickly. Not after all that.

She left the bathroom and turned her eyes back to the bar. She frowned as her gaze immediately fell upon the epitome of a douche giving the poor girl in front of him a smarmy-drunken smile.

Her blood boiled as she recognized the woman. 

He was looking at her Zoey. And Joan didn’t like it. 

Without thinking, she stalked over and slid between them, eyes laser-focused on Zoey’s. Her arm wrapped towards Zoey’s on the bar, her hips angled towards hers but didn’t quite touch her. Joan didn’t care what the guy thought; her body language couldn’t have been clearer to either of them: back off, she’s mine.

She trembled at the strength of her feelings, at the impulsive desire to just claim Zoey and protect her. Zoey may not ever let her be intimate with her again. But Joan wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt her. 

The douche had no sooner left than Zoey just fucking grabbed her. Hands slid under her shirt, tugging Joan’s hips against Zoey’s. A tongue probed at her lips until they opened. 

Joan stumbled, shaken. “Zoey…”

“I don’t care…” Zoey mumbled, lips still mashed against Joan’s. “I want you. Now.”

The demand mixed dangerously with the alcohol, completely shutting Joan’s critical thinking processes and lingering guilt down. She gave in completely to the coder. It had been so long since she’d just let Zoey tell her what to do. It was intoxicating.

They ducked and wove through the other patrons and stumbled back into the empty bathroom, barely able to keep their hands off each other. 

Joan was hesitant to undress Zoey but even this drunken pawing at her through their clothes had her heart returning to those days on her couch, watching movies together. 

Zoey had no such hesitation. She tore open the top of Joan’s shirt and popped one of her breasts free from its cup. Her tongue found Joan’s hard nipple instantly. 

Joan fell back against the stall door, breath catching. “Zoey…” The aforementioned only slid her hands around Joan’s back, mouth drawing her in deeper. Joan’s hands went to the coder’s head, fingers tangling gently in her fiery hair.

It felt so good to just be them again: not forcing anything just doing what felt right.

Zoey pushed Joan back into a stall and slammed the door shut behind them. Her fingers went to her boss’ waist immediately, sliding down Joan’s thighs to lift the edge of her skirt.

“Zoey…!” Joan bit her lip as the coder confidently pushed her underwear aside to give her fingers access.

“Shhh!” Zoey chastised her, even though the bathroom was empty and the music pounding loudly outside. She slid two fingers inside of Joan and did that thing, that gentle scissoring motion that always threw Joan right to the edge.

“Nnngghhh!” She clamped her free hand over her mouth but she was already so close. “Zoey…” 

Zoey just nipped at her neck.

Three seconds later, a strangled cry ripped from her and her back thumped loudly against the stall door as she came hard and fast around Zoey’s dexterous fingers. 

Zoey started to laugh, fingers still buried in Joan up to her knuckles. 

“What?” Joan couldn’t help the punchy-drunky smile that her face adopted at the sound. She felt so loose and calm, all of the tension in her body evaporating from the orgasm. She stroked Zoey’s head. “What’s so funny?”

Zoey couldn’t seem to stop giggling. “I’m…I’m fucking you…in a bar bathroom…” she buried her face in Joan’s shoulder, biting back her mirth and shaking.

Joan stroked her head again. “Zoey?”

The coder looked up at her, an expression on her face that Joan recognized. Her heart jumped as she realized she hadn’t seen that expression in the longest time. And she’d missed it.

“Come home with me?” Zoey asked.

She was weak. She couldn’t say no.

The trip back to Zoey’s was a blur of drunk stumbling, yelling at taxi drivers, and Joan desperately trying to keep her torn shirt and wet panties hidden under her jacket. 

They stumbled into Zoey’s apartment, giggling and knocking into things in the dark until Joan finally found the light. 

Murmurs became whispers and the whispering quickly led to more kissing. Zoey hooked one leg over Joan’s hip, her free hand pulling Joan’s down to her breast.

Even through her drunk haze, Joan recognized the signal. “Zoey…no…” She pulled back. Joan frowned down at her, one hand rubbing the coder’s stomach gently. “You’re still healing.”

Zoey pouted but didn’t argue. “Then I guess you get another turn.” 

Her eyes darkened. “If you insist…”

Zoey jumped up to straddle Joan’s hips and Joan carried her to the bedroom. It was so easy.

Zoey’s bed was unmade but it hardly mattered. Joan sat down, bringing the coder with her so that Zoey was straddling her. Through desperate kisses, they freed each other from clothing, moving only to slide their underwear from each other’s hips.

Joan was drinking in the sensation: Zoey, naked and pressed close to her once more. The warmth was as delicious and soothing as her final glass of bourbon had been. 

“Joan…” Zoey broke in in between kisses. “if you’re up for it…let’s try something?”

Joan moved her lips down to Zoey’s neck, teasing Zoey’s spot. “Like what?”

Zoey shuddered but gripped Joan tightly. “I got a new toy…”

Her breathy response had Joan pausing and pulling back. Zoey climbed off of her and opened her top dresser drawer. She held out a small dildo for Joan to see.

“You got me so good with yours…” she gave Joan a timid smirk that was clearly meant to be seductive. “want to see what I can do to you?”

Joan recoiled at the memory, the guilt crashing back in. She turned away and hugged herself, once again struggling to find the words to apologize. 

But a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her from falling back down her guilt hole. “Joan…it’s okay. Really.” Zoey gave her a soft, genuine smile. “I’m not mad.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

It seemed Saint Zoey really was capable of instant forgiveness, even on Joan’s part. That or this was all some diabolical revenge plot. 

So, Joan figured, why the hell not? Let Zoey hurt her if she needed that. Joan deserved it. 

She watched Zoey get ready, part of her apprehensive the other just a little excited. 

When everything was in place, the coder smiled and pushed Joan down onto the bed. She gasped, already feeling thick desire for a dominant Zoey pooling in her stomach.

Zoey crawled over her, completely ignoring the strap-on. Instead, she focused entirely on Joan’s breasts. Each one received a thorough once-over by Zoey’s fingers and lips until Joan was squirming in anticipation. 

But even then, Zoey didn’t enter her. Her hands traveled the length of Joan’s body, tickling the sensitive spot on her left side and pinching the edge of her butt. She gently parted Joan’s legs and ran her fingers through Joan’s slick folds.

By this point, Joan was on the verge of begging. But before she could find her voice, the tip of the toy was pushing slowly past her entrance. 

She tensed but relaxed almost instantly, shocked. It didn’t hurt. Zoey’s thrusts were gentle, timid almost. She wasn’t trying to hurt her. 

Zoey glanced at her, checking in on her with an unguarded smile that had Joan melting into her. Zoey ran her hands up Joan’s arms and wrapped her in a brief hug as she thrust again. Joan trembled. Everything the coder was doing was effortlessly turning her on.

“Oh god…!” Joan clutched Zoey to her, her body rocking in time with the younger woman’s thrusts. How did she just know what to do? She wrapped her ankles around the younger woman’s thighs and drew her closer. Zoey responded instantly, thrusting deeper but keeping the same rhythm. 

Joan gasped, riding the sensation as a current of something welled up from deep in her chest. 

She only fought it only for an instant before Zoey’s gentle thrusts and soft nibbles on her shoulder had her dropping her guard entirely.

She couldn’t help it…she’d been so afraid of things getting complicated but…

Joan stroked Zoey’s hair and moaned into the soft release. It wasn’t a mind-blowing orgasm. But that was okay. It was just what she needed. A gentle reminder of how good this thing they had could be when they didn’t force it.

Zoey brought her down gently, smirking playfully at Joan as she slowly withdrew the toy. The coder flicked the side of Joan’s breast. “Gotcha.”

Joan had to laugh, the action just as necessary and fulfilling as the orgasm had been. Between the alcohol, the guilt, Zoey’s words, and the intimate sex, all of her walls were well and truly shattered by this point. Zoey had easily knocked them all down.

She’d been fighting it, fighting feeling exactly this: the sensation of belonging with someone, of trusting someone completely and feeling satisfied with that. No matter what Zoey did to her, she was always going to forgive her. She wasn’t afraid to be herself around Zoey. She’d known that since the L-word. She’d just been denying herself the chance. 

Joan tugged Zoey forward, pressing their lips together. She smiled into the kiss, letting it warm her from the inside out. 

It seemed that she couldn’t help falling in love with Zoey Clarke.

The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than Zoey stilled. The coder pulled back slowly, her eyes distant and unfocused. 

Joan watched her in confusion for a moment but before she could make a move to rouse Zoey, the woman shook herself out of it. 

Now Zoey was giving her another of her wide-eyed stares, as if Joan had said her thoughts out loud. 

Joan felt her insides turn to ice. “Hey…hey.” She tried to sound soft, despite her heart beating unnaturally fast. There was no way Zoey could know what revelation she’d just had, right? But as she reached for Zoey’s arm, the younger woman flinched back.

“Zoey?”

“R…rolling Stones.” Zoey stuttered. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly modest in her nudity.

Joan sat up, hardly daring to believe it. “Zoey?” The coder couldn’t seem to look at her all of the sudden. She fumbled the toy out of its harness and threw it aside.

“Joan, I think you should go…”

“Zoey…what did I…?” Zoey had never kicked her out of bed before. Joan didn’t know what she’d done. Had it been the kiss? Or had the whole night simply been too much?

But unlike their first time, Zoey didn’t reassure her that she’d done nothing wrong. Unlike the previous night, she didn't let Joan comfort her.

Zoey stood, wrapping herself in a towel. “Just…just go?” She asked, in the softest whisper Joan had ever heard. She pointed to the door. “Please?”

How could she deny her anything when she asked like that?

“O…okay.”

[baekhyunsutgrain]

The Night of All Nights//Park Kyung

Synopsis: Prom is supposed to be the best night of everyone's life. Where you prepare all day, making sure everything is just right. You did that, but at the end of the night, it felt like everything just went downhill. It was supposed to be the Night of All Nights.

Idol(s): Park Kyung of Block B x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Words: 3.5k

Sorry if this is trashy lol. It’s the first time I’ve written a oneshot in a few years. - Admin Mina🌸

• • •

Senior year came quicker than you anticipated. It felt like it was only yesterday that you were a foolish freshman, stumbling into the wrong classes and fighting with your locker because it wouldn't open which then led to you being late to class. High school would be fun, they said. You begged to differ half of the time.

The years grew harder, more pressure being put when it came to college choices, AP classes, and entrance exams, all feeling so relentless until you finally overcame it. But of course, there were special memories you made.

Freshman year, you were able to interview your first crush for the yearbook as well as take a picture. Sophomore year you discovered the wonders of sign language and how many times you "needed help" from your other comrades in class during a test as well as had your first relationship. Admittedly, it was a failure but to you it was special at the moment, even if you two did spend less than half a year together and broke up twice. It still counted.

Junior year you understood how real life was getting and started looking at colleges everywhere. Instate, out of state, even out of the country, there were just so many amazing opportunities that it began to overwhelm you, but in a good way. Just knowing that there was a whole world for you to explore was one of the most amazing feelings you've ever had.

That was until you had your first hookup after overwhelming tests. Sad part was, they were all practice tests and then you started to get a bit nervous about the real ones, might have had another hook up as well but you don't kiss and tell. But of course, you didn't go through all of this alone, you had your best friend, Kyung.

He was there for you, always giving great advice through your experiences and helped ease the pain when things became too much. The two of you were almost inseparable regardless of who was in your lives and that's how it was always going to be. Even now since you two were shopping for something to wear for the big night that was just weeks away.

"What style tuxedo should I go for?" Kyung asked you, going through one of the stores catalogs.

You shrug your shoulders, going through a stack of catalogs, "I have no idea what I'm going to wear either so you're asking the wrong person. I can't even settle on one color either."

"So... get anything yet?" Kyung asked, peeking his eyes over to see you walk to the empty seat across from him.

You shook your head and buried your face into the pages for some sort of protection. The store was practically empty since it was a school day and you two skipped out in order to not deal with the rush of high school students afterward. Days ago, you asked your crush to attend prom with you and still, you haven't received an answer.

A side of you accepted that your crush would most likely not agree so you kept yourself in check for the most part, but that sickening soft side was still holding out although you protested. You guessed that it couldn't be helped and just accepted that as well.

Kyung took your silence as a cue to change the subject and turned his catalog over, showing you the page he was on as well as the style he was looking at.

"Shawl tuxedo. Color? Undecided but probably in the darker spectrum with a matching tie. Thoughts?" He spoke quickly.

You looked up and raised a brow.

"That's literally what every single guy is going to be wearing. Think outside the box, Kyung, it's going to be the night of all nights."

Kyung rolled his eyes. You were right for the most part so he looked at different styles until stumbling across something that was half formal, half casual. He was liking the way it looked and got up from his seat, finding a sales associate to help him while you took your time.

Just as you were going to pick up another catalog to look through, 5 boys stormed into the store. Those 5 boys were better known as Jae, Sungjin, Younghyun (more known by his English name, Brian), Wonpil, and Dowoon. They were in a band and pretty popular at school.

You liked their music very much and gladly, they were permitted to play at the prom so they wanted their outfits to be great. You and Kyung were good friends with the guys and invited them out, you didn't really expect them to show up if you were being honest.

"Hey guys," you greet them, getting up from your seat.

"Hey, where's Kyung?" Sungjin asked.

"Beats me, to be honest."

"Over here!" Kyung called out on the other side of the store.

You follow the herd and see Kyung standing in front of a mirror checking out the suit that he was currently wearing. It was a nice suit, a deep shade of blue with thin white lines going down on the blazer and pants. He wore a black dress-shirt under and rejected the sales associates proposal of adding either a necktie or bow to complete the look.

"What do you guys think?" Kyung asked.

"Wow, it's so cool!" Dowoon complimented the older boy.

"I agree, it's really nice," Brian added.

"And you?" Kyung looked to you.

Your opinion always mattered the most to him.

"Jenelle is a real lucky girl since she gets to be with the best dressed guy," you say, giving him two thumbs up.

He thanked you for your words and spoke with the employee as you realized your phone was vibrating in your back pocket. You walk away to a quiet section of the store and answer. Just minute passed until you screamed so loud that you made everyone in the store rush to your exact location at the speed of light.

Kyung pushes past everyone around you and asked what was wrong. All you could do was nod your head like a maniac and your best friend hugged you before giving a high five.

"See? I told you that there was nothing to worry about. So what's the matching color for the prom couple?" He asked.

"Red," you announce happily.

• • •

It was just hours away. After a few more visits to the store you, Kyung, and the rest of the guys found what to wear and now it was time to get your hair done and maybe even add a smidge of makeup. Kyung wasn't ashamed to ask his mom for some coverage tonight.

The lot of you as well as dates were going to have dinner beforehand so you were a bit jittery waiting for dinner and asked Kyungs mom to apply some cosmetics on you as well. She thought of you as another child of hers since you didn't have much of a relationship with your parents and felt honored to help you get ready.

"Are you nervous?" Kyungs mom asked as she gently pressed on your skin.

"Yeah... kinda," you admit to her.

"Don't worry, it'll be fun especially if you and Kyung are together. I can't remember a dull time with the both of you unless you were asleep," she said with a soft laugh, stroking your face with a puffy brush before finishing up and handing you a mirror.

You gasped at your reflection and smiled, looking everywhere on your face.

"Wow, I didn't know you could erase dark circles."

"It only takes a little bit to make them go away. I regret letting Kyung watch me put on makeup every day because now he hides his dark circles from me. You two really need to sleep instead of playing video games all night," she said, beginning to scold you.

"Resident Evil after midnight really hits the spot, mom, you wouldn't understand," Kyung whined as he stepped down the staircase.

His suit was tailored to fit comfortably on his body and looked even better with a new haircut as well as no dark circles. Kyungs mother walked to her son and cooed at him in Korean, making Kyung go red as he attempted to shoo his mother from giving a kiss on his cheek.

His mother had you two pose for pictures. So. Many. Pictures. It was unreal. Jenelle texted Kyung just as they arrived and his mother saw you two out, rejecting Jenelles offer to take pictures, claiming she had no camera as well as no space on her phone. Kyung's mother didn't really care for Jenelle if it wasn't obvious yet.

"Hey," you breathed out, seeing your crush in their attire.

"You look great, really. Let's go eat so we can party."

You nod and follow Jenelle and Kyung into the limo for the night.

• • •

The restaurant was very upscale and nice. You'd seen many other fellow students arriving and were glad that Kyung called weeks in advance to put in a reservation. Your party was able to cut past the line and make way to a long table where you and your crush sat next to each other across from Jae and his girlfriend.

The chatter was comforting and everyone was having a good time. You all ordered and while Jae's girlfriend talked to you, your breath slightly hitched as a hand make its way to your thigh. You knew who's hand it was and your heart began to panic as you stutter out your next words.

Your crush laughed under their breath and removed the hand, leaving a ghostly feeling. Thankfully the food was beginning to arrive and you pretty much had heart eyes for your plate considering you haven't eaten in over 4 hours until your crush made a comment.

"That's a really big plate."

You nod, noticing that theirs was large as well, almost larger than yours. Truthfully you didn't see an issue.

"Are you really going to eat that all?" They asked, something off in the way the words came out.

A part of you felt a little ashamed and quickly shook your head in response. Jae and his girlfriend were the only two to hear and looked to you but you never looked back and ate your dinner but not too much, claiming you weren't too hungry despite your stomach claimed otherwise.

You ignored it and went on with the night, arriving at the venue and had your picture taken with your date. Music was blaring and it was quite dark but your crush held your hand, guiding you through the swarms of people and asked if you wanted a drink before going out to dance. You agreed, then headed out with the rest of your friends on the dance floor.

It seemed as though your crush had completely disregarded what happened at the restaurant so you decided maybe that's what you should do as well and it really made your night better. Your crush had no issue getting close and you reciprocated. There were chaperones but it was far too crowded to see where your group was so you guys got away with a lot.

Kyung and Jenelle were more than handsy but that's just how he was. He was quick and no person, male or female, could resist his charm and you mentally cheered him on. Your crush tried advancing but you were really reluctant despite being experienced, it was just how you got when you really cared about someone and hoped they would understand.

Hours passed and you took a break while Jae and the rest of the guys played their second set for the night. Half of the attendees were making their way out, most likely to a hotel for some alone time as the cliché tradition went.

Taking down a third cup of punch, you finally felt quaint and fanned yourself. Your crush sat next to you at the decorated table, swirling the clear cup of red punch until they touched your arm, giving that alluring gaze that sent you on cloud 9.

"How about we get out of here? Maybe... to a hotel?" They suggested.

Your heart fluttered and you swore you could feel your cheeks turn red.

"I... I was actually going to take you home tonight and maybe ask- I don't know- maybe if you wanted to go out on a real date sometime," you reply shyly.

Suddenly, the smirk implanted on your crushed face had vanished and was replaced with a disgusted one. You were shocked to say the least. What did you say? Was it really so rude to treat them in such a way? You always knew to treat people the way you wanted to be treated.

"I want to go to a hotel," they say firmly.

"I don't want to," you reply back, standing your ground, your body beginning to tremble since you didn't really like when people began acting aggressive with you.

"Why not?"

"Because... I... I like you and I want to treat you well," you confess, looking down now not from awkward shyness but shame. You hated feeling shamed but felt helpless at that moment.

Your crush just bursted out in laughter, making you feel the worst you've ever felt in your life. You really hated the fact that Jae and the guys were playing You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi. Your crush muttered words you were glad to not hear and left you with a crushed heart. All you could do was cry.

• • •

"Jenelle," Kyung breathed out, pulling away from the heated makeout session.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I'm going to tell y/n that we're leaving."

"Y/n should be leaving too."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

The door swung open, revealing a very agitated teen. It was y/n's date.

"What happened?" Jenelle asked.

A sick smirk crawled on to their face and Jenelle nearly turned to a ghost with how pale she was from the expression.

"Stupid idiot didn't want to leave. Said some shit about liking me or whatever. Seriously, you said y/n would put out."

Kyung was beyond livid. His heart was pumping adrenaline everywhere within seconds and set him off immediately. No one messed with his best friend. Not like that. Not now, not ever.

"You got my best friends crush to accept the prom proposal in exchange for a hookup?!" Kyung yelled at the girl sitting next to him.

"Wait, Kyung-"

"Don't touch me, Jenelle. I'm leaving," he replied, opening to door with such force and slamming it shut.

He pushed past people without a second thought, barely offering any sort of apologies as he headed back inside the venue for you. You just left the bathroom after drying your tears and just watched the handful of couples. Jae finished the set and was sharing a slow dance with his girlfriend for the 3rd time tonight.

You were glad that at least someone was having a good night and sulked alone at an empty table. Kyung noticed you as he made way around again and startled you.

"Y/n," he called out.

He saw the puffiness of your eyes and knew that you cried. You were really bad at hiding and had a really ugly crying face that he always teased you for. It really broke his heart seeing you all alone. He knew your night was ruined and truth be told, his was ruined as well.

When you offered a weak smile it really sounded him even more, and to a point that he wasn't even aware of until now. Without a second thought, he walked over to Jae, briefly telling him what happened and asked if he could play a song, apologizing to his girlfriend but she didn't mind after hearing the horrible thing that happened and vowed to deck the awful date right in the neck at school the following Monday.

Jae rushed to get the rest of the guys and made way to the stage just as Kyung got back to you. He extended his hand out to you and you looked at him with sheer surprise. It's like he wasn't even your best friend anymore, but someone else. Your prom date.

Taking his hand, you walk out to the nearly empty dance floor and look to Jae who was wearing a smile just for you as they began to play. It was your favorite song, Europa by Santana. Kyung wrapped your arms around his neck and gently swayed your two bodies together as the music played.

You couldn't believe the length he went tonight, breaking the guys from their dates just to give you at least one good memory for the night. He truly was your best friend and you just realized it at that moment. You were so thankful to have someone like him in your life and hoped he would be there forever. You really did love him and all the things he did for you.

"Thank you," you mumble. "This is perfect."

"I hope so. It's what you deserve, y/n," Kyung replied, his voice very sultry unlike how he usually spoke.

"Kyung..."

"Really. Whatever that asshole said to you... be lucky that I wasn't there. You didn't deserve to be played like that."

His words made you suck in a breath of air. It was your first time hearing him speak like that considering he was really good natured and goofy.

"Kyung it's alright just forget about it," you reply, resting your arms on his shoulders.

"No it's not alright," he quietly snapped, his eyes gazing directly into yours. "I really care about you. So much that I wanted to punch your date when those words came out but you were the first thing on my mind."

"What are you saying Kyung?" You reply, deeply concerned and hoping your best friend wasn't still thinking of doing something rash.

Something rash, he did. He kissed you. You didn't pull away, but neither did you close your eyes. You were taken too of guard so you were just frozen there, watching as your long time best friend kissed you. He pulled away, his lips leaving an imprint on you, more memorable than what your crush had done on your leg. This was lasting, the softness of his lips forever imprinted on you. Kyung smiled.

"I like you, y/n. I'm sorry if this is really late, or even random. I guess it was just weird confessing to my best friend when they're head over heels. Can you forgive me?" He asked softly.

"I... when?" You ask, making Kyung laugh at your wide eyes as you pull away and lift a hand to your lips.

"A while if I'm being honest. I didn't think much of it until recently. I thought Jenelle could snap me out of  it but I guess I really do like you."

You began to laugh in your current stupor, making Kyung feel a bit uneasy.

"Y/n, are you okay?" He asked.

You looked to him, seeing his concern and halted your awkward laughing, surprising him with a kiss back. It was such an electric experience despite the shock value. Out of all the kisses you'd given and received, none of them amounted to the feeling that Kyung had given you.

It was special and truth be told, you had some feelings as well but you always pushed them to the back of your mind. The fact that it was happening now was just so comical to you but at least he gave you the best prom night. You knew this was someone you wanted to be with, and now that it was your best friend, it was clear that it would be long lasting.

"Your mom is going to explode when we tell her," you say, remembering how she truly loved you two together.

"Please don't remind me," he groaned, thinking about how she'll be when the time comes.

"Can I kiss you again?" You ask.

"Hell yeah. I've been waiting for this moment for a while."

You giggle before connecting lips again, holding his face in your hands. You pulled away, feeling your heart race. Just as you did, Kyung nodded to Jae and the guys abruptly switched songs. This next one was actually a song of their own. You'd heard it once when you and Kyung came to one of their practices. It was in korean but you loved it nonetheless. It was called I'm Serious, in English.

"Did you plan this?" You ask, crossing your arms.

"The confession? No. Music? Yes."

You roll your eyes, "Kyung Park I don't know whether I should be happy or embarrassed to have you as my boyfriend."

"I'd say both because of the ugly face I'm going to make right now," He said before contorting his face in a way that looked so uncomfortable that it made you cringe.

You hit his shoulder to make him stop but he didn't and proceeded to chase you when you ran away from him and his ugly expression. It was a night to remember.

The night of all nights made amazing by your best friend, and now lover.

[rmg91]

The Woes and Antics of Living Together-11

I totally meant for this to end fluffy but it had other plans and it went a little angsty. Other than that though this is just a short, fluffy filler chapter since the last one was so involved. But I'll tell you all this, the next chapter's gonna be fun. Heehee~

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3/FF.net

@writerofberk Chapter 11! Which has a little bit of everything!

                                                    ~*~*~*~*~*~

Captain Starfunkles Roller Rink and Arcade was not Branch's ideal place to go, with it's old furniture and stained carpet. It was honestly a wonder how it was still in business with how unsanitary and unsafe everything appeared, but Poppy had insisted he join them. Actually she had dragged him here against his will the moment she saw he was going to decline Bridget's invitation. So now he was stuck sitting in a sticky booth with the Snack Packs various bags as they all skated around the rink.

Gristle and Bridget were skating side by side, holding hands and being sickening sweet with each other like they always were. Satin and Chenille were chatting with Biggie as they skated around the rink, Branch only catching a few words when Biggie tried to deny something about not having a crush loudly as they went by. Cooper and Smidge had been racing but it seemed the two had moved onto arcade challenges. And Poppy, Guy and Suki were performing spins and a tricks while making references to some show that had Guy calling everyone a 'Pork Cutlet Bowl'. Branch honestly didn't want to know. He had seen Creek skating along with everyone before he had rolled off somewhere to take a phone call.

Branch sighed as his eyes once again found his pink haired roommate out on the rink because try as he might he was unable to help himself from watching her. She just drew his attention to her no matter what she did. He loved seeing her amber eyes sparkle with joy and her bright grin as she was surrounded by all her friends. If only he could be a source of that happiness too... But he was darkness while she was a bright sun that filled each and every day with light and was way too out of his reach, no matter how far he tried.

Blinking out of his melancholy thoughts, Branch made a quick note on his phone to write that line down in his poetry later.

Meanwhile Poppy was laughing as she and Suki spun around holding hands before Guy came in and grabbed the DJ. It was so nice of Bridget and Gristle to invite them all out like this, she hadn't realized how much she missed roller skating. Letting Suki skate alone with Guy for a moment, she started a lazy loop around the perimeter of the rink as she took in all her friends having fun. Except of Branch, who was slouched in the booth looking bored. Rolling her eyes at her roommate she made to skate over to him to try and get him to join them when she noticed Creek coming back, sans roller blades.

Rolling over and grabbed the edge, Poppy flashed him a smile, “Hey. Where are your skates? Not tired already I hope.”

Creek smiled apologetically, “Not exactly. A coworker just called and asked if I could take their shift. Seems they caught a bit of a cold.”

“Oh...” Poppy's shoulders dropped, she had been looking forward to spending more time with him.

“Fret not, Sweet.” The guru cupped her chin, “We'll have time together again.”

“I know..” She gave him a sad sort of smile, “It's just you've been working a lot lately.”

Creek smiled at her, “Yes, but it's a good thing. I'll be able to afford a new apartment in no time. And then you,” He booped her nose, “Get to plan my house warming party.”

Poppy giggled, “Okay. Have fun~”

“I always do.” He bowed with his hands folded, “Namaste.”

Poppy watched him go with a smile before turning her sight back to Branch. Time to get back to her plan of try getting him on the rink. Exiting the rink, she rolled over to their table with a grin.

“Hey, Braaanch~!” She sang, “Come skate with us.”

“No.” Was his deadpan response.

She pouted before pulling out a childhood trick, “Please? For me?”

Branch glared at her, “Nice try. That doesn't work anymore.” A lie, actually. It could still work but he be damned if he let it. “So why did Creek leave?” Not that he really cared, he was glad the creep was gone but Poppy had looked sad about his departure and that didn't sit right with him.

“Oh...He had to go to work but hey! It's alright! It happens.” She shrugged before drumming her hands on the table, “Now stop just sitting here and come join us!”

“No.” He crossed his arms, “I'm not skating. Plus someone has to keep an eye on your things. You never know when a pickpocket could come by.”

“Branch. We're the only ones here besides the employees.”

“Yeah and that server looked shifty.”

Poppy threw her head back and groaned, “Branch, it'll be fine. Come ooooon.”

Before Branch could respond a different music track began to play. One that had Poppy turning around and grinning at Suki, who had gotten into the music booth, “Oh my gosh! Yes!”

Guy held out a hand dramatically. “Come my little Pork Cutlet Bowl! Let us dazzle everyone!”

Poppy laughed and forgetting her mission, skated back to the rink as she began to sing, “Can you hear...my heat beat. I'm tired of feeling I'm...never enough. I close my eyes and tell myself that my dreams will come true.”

“There'll be no more darkness when you believe,” Guy took a turn, grabbing her hand and pulling her across the floor, “In yourself, you're unstoppable. Where you're destiny lies, dancing on your blades, you set my heart on fire~!”

“Don't stop us now!” They sang together as Suki joined in, “The moment of truth. We were born to make history! We'll make it happen, we'll turned it around. Yes, we were born to make history!”

Branch watched for a moment as the three continued to perform, the rest of their friends cheering them on, before shaking his head. He buried his face in his arms and wondered just why he put up with these people, no crush on the most gorgeous girl was worth all this.

                                                  ~*~*~*~*~*~

Branch and Poppy arrived back at their apartment in the early evening, Poppy parking in front of their building. The rest of their trip had involved Biggie and Gristle taking turns at the claw machine and everyone, except Branch, chowing down on some the greasiest pizza Branch had ever seen. He was glad to be back because that had been a waste of an entire afternoon he could've been studying or better yet, preparing dinner. It was the thought about dinner that suddenly had Branch groaning.

“What is it?” Poppy asked, “Did you forget something at the rink?”

“No.” Branch huffed, “There's nothing prepared for dinner because someone dragged me out when I could've been marinating the pork chops from the freezer.”

Poppy looked playfully offended, “Well excuse me for trying to help you relax a little. And to not hurt Bridget's feelings.”

“Bridget would've understood.”

Poppy let out a exasperated breath and rolled her eyes, here he went, being stubborn again. Shifting in her seat to better face Branch, she flashed him a smile, “Then how about this! You go to the store and pick something up for dinner and I'll go finish up that laundry I...sort of forgot about...”

Branch sighed and held out his hand for her keys, “Fine...”

                                                   ~*~*~*~*~*~

Branch came home an hour later with a bag of taco supplies and a new reason to be irritated at the little market store close to their apartment. Their selection of tomatoes and onions had been horrible, so he'd had to waste more time running to the larger grocery store. At least the ground beef wouldn't take too long to cook and dinner would done before too long. Opening the door and wincing at the pop music blaring throughout their home, Branch turned into the kitchen to find Poppy dancing at the sink, washing dishes and-Was that one of his shirts?!

“...I-is that my shirt?!” He asked, cheeks turning red and hoping she didn't notice the way his voice cracked because he just suddenly couldn't handle her. She looked too damn adorable in his faded green shirt with the pine tree decal because it was a few sizes too big for her, one of her shoulders on display because the neck hem dipped to one side and it was just long enough to allow her shorts to peek out from under it. Branch couldn't help but wish that was all she was wearing before instantly berating himself for that thought. Poppy wearing his clothes was not a good thing!

“Oh!” Poppy jumped in surprise at his voice before looking a little embarrassed as she dried off her hands, “Um...maybe?” Branch raised an eyebrow at her and gave a look that said she should explain. “Look! I'm sorry, okay?! But I was doing the laundry and needed a spare shirt because reasons,” She had spilt detergent over the shirt she had been wearing and Branch's had been convenient to wear back up to the apartment, “And it's really comfortable so I sort of wanna keep it!”

“You-I-That-No!” Branch stumbled, dumping the groceries on the counter as he flailed his hands around, “You can't just steal someone's shirt!!”

“Yes I can!”

Branch really wasn't sure why but rather than try to argue with Poppy, he instead lunged at her with a growl. Poppy squealed and ran off, leading to him chasing her around the apartment. She ran to the couch hoping to put it between them but he followed her around it. She leapt over a bean bag before having to dodge another lunge. Branch in turn chased her in circles around the armchair before she attempted to keep it between them. They bobbed to and fro before Poppy tore off again down the hall, Branch hot on her heels. He caught her around the waist before she could run into her room.

“Give it back!” He shouted, tickling her like he had always done when this happened as kids.

“Never!” She laughed, squirming out of his hold and running back toward the living room.

Growling, Branch pursued and they made another round between and past their furniture. Poppy tried to go back though the kitchen, making another attempt to get to her bedroom but Branch cut her off. Chasing her back toward the couch, Branch attempted to grab her but she suddenly turned and he had to catch himself on the back of the chair before falling. Poppy giggled at him but was soon attempting to dodge him again as he lunged for her. However when Branch's arms found their way around her waist, the two found themselves falling into the other beanbag.

Branch lifted himself up, intending to scowl at Poppy and berate her for again for stealing things that weren't hers but stopped when he noticed how close he was to her. He'd fallen on top of her, legs tangled together and her face was right there. If he was braver, if he wasn't certain that it ruin everything and she'd hate him, truly actually hate him, he would just lean down and kiss her. He'd kiss her and tell her how much she meant to him and all the poetry he'd written about her but...But he wasn't going to. He was never going to do that.

Poppy giggled as Branch leaned up, he hadn't chased her in years and she had forgotten how fun it was. Looking up with a smile, Poppy made to say something teasing when she noticed Branch just looking at her. Tilting her head to the side, she waited for him to speak as she unconsciously raised her hands to his chest and wondered if his eyes had always been that blue. Wondering if maybe she should say something, Poppy didn't get the chance as Branch suddenly pushed himself off her.

“Right! I was gonna cook!” He cried, voice an octave higher as he hurried over to the kitchenette.

“Okay...” Poppy blinked, wondering what that was about before toying with the hem of his shirt, “I-I won't actually keep the shirt, Branch. I was mostly messing with you.”

He didn't respond for a moment, just went about gathering up a pan, before barely glancing back at her, “It's fine. I don't care.”

“But-”

“Poppy.” He said, voice containing a hint of a bite to it, “It's fine.”

“...Okay.” She got up and headed toward the door before slipping a pair of sandals on, “I'm just...gonna get the rest of my laundry. Be right back.”

“Sure.” Branch grunted.

As the door closed, he hung his head and slumped against the sink. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why'd he say that is was fine when it most certainly wasn't?! Why did he have to be such an ass that he upset her enough to run away?! Why couldn't he just be a normal human being?!

Sighing, because Branch really didn't want to contemplate the answer to that, he stood and started cooking. Maybe the menial task would help distract him enough from his thoughts, at least until he could lock himself in his room. And as he listlessly started to push ground beef around the pan, a small part of him hoped Poppy would be willing to forgive him. He really hadn't meant to upset her. Branch sighed again and hung his head, he really was the worst.

                                                    ~*~*~*~*~*~

Oh Branch, I don't think Poppy would have minded if you had kissed her. Confused for a little while but not minded XP But then we wouldn't get to the rest of my plans for this story if you had XD

Hope you all enjoyed and look forward to the next one! It's a bit I've been excited to get to!

History Maker-Yuri on Ice

[thehuggamugcafe]

And The World Went Away

OOC: Well, it’s official. The Resident Evil 2 Remake demo scared the holy hell out of this Barista. Good lord, I couldn’t help but to feel inspired after watching some gameplay footage. Also, Overkill’s The Walking Dead characters’ story trailers helped spawn this little musing.

This... What is this? Well, I wouldn’t call it a series. Merely... Musings for whenever I’m in the mood to write them, which won’t be often, I think. If you’d like, I can include my other muses in their own scenarios for these “musings”, for lack of a better word.

If anyone’s interested in this sort of thing, please let me know; I’d really appreciate the feedback. Likes and reblogs are A-OK, but comments on this (yes, even constructive criticism!) are fine, too.

Let us begin the horror show shall we, my dears? Please enjoy. ☕

A cranium impacted the wall of an alleyway, besmirching the filthy brick exterior with a splatter of blood. A huff of a breath left the mouth of a certain barista—no, former barista—as a moist noise came from the skull of what had once been a man.

Milky brown eyes stared up into the sweaty, flushed face of a 20-year-old woman as a knife was removed from where it was inserted: between the monstrosity’s eyes.

“You bastard! Goddammit,” the ex-barista hissed, clicking her tongue as she spared a quick glance at herself.

Ice blue irises glared at her glove-covered hands, checking and double-checking for any glaringly obvious signs of a scratch, no matter how small.

She relaxed only when she was positive that she hadn’t been scratched.

Eira had seen what happened to those who’d been unfortunate enough to be bitten or scratched, after all.

It had only been a few months since the initial outbreak had occurred, but...

She remembered.

She remembered what had happened on that day in her small, homey café.

It was cliché, so terribly cliché, but it had started off the same way as it had in all those horrid, cheesy zombie movies, TV shows, books, and video games.

Reports of odd assaults on an unsuspecting person, who’s only crime was being at the wrong place, wrong time, became a daily occurrence.

Headlines titled “Attacks In Broad Daylight” were soon plastered over the front page of every newspaper, every news magazine across the country.

Health and government officials assured the public that there was nothing to worry about, that order would be restored within a few short weeks. Meanwhile, the general public was advised to stay away from anyone who may be “sick,” and to remain as sanitary as possible. She recalled the one warning, the only warning the public had received before all hell broke loose on the streets of Tokyo...

“We interrupt this scheduled program for a message from the Japanese Ministry of Health. A contagious disease is rumoured to have begun spreading within Shibuya. Those who’ve been exposed to this illness display the following symptoms: sweating, nausea, fever, disorientation, seizures, severe migraines, and eventual death. We advise all residents to remain indoors until further notice. If you believe that you or a loved one is infected with this disease, please call local authorities immediately. Do not leave your residence. This message will repeat every five minutes.”

The day when a customer had stumbled in through the door of the Huggamug Café, left open to allow a nonexistent breeze to whisper through the interior, despite the air conditioner keeping the customers, the employees, and the young owner and manager cool.

Eira recalled the customer’s twitching body, voicing an unusual-sounding groan as saliva and blood dripped on to the floor of the café. It was something that irked Eira greatly, having just swept and mopped the floor 30 minutes before the customer arrived.

“Hey.”

She remembered snapping that lone word as she walked forward, ready to give the customer a piece of her mind. However...

The closer she got, the more she realized how much he reeked. He stunk of sweat, as if he hadn’t showered in weeks.

She noticed how dirty his clothes were, how matted his hair was.

She noticed the blood and bits of flesh stuck between his teeth.

“Sir, are you okay? Maybe you should-”

Eira could still remember the feeling of two dirty, cold hands wrapping around her clothed shoulders.

She could still recall the sickening breath wafting over her face as she hit the floor.

She remembered feeling the disgusting stench of warm copper hitting her face as she screamed for someone, anyone to assist her as the customer snapped his bloody jaws near her face.

She could recall three sets of footsteps quickly approaching her as she raised a foot, delivering a solid kick to the man’s chest, knocking him off of her.

Immediately after Eira had kicked the customer away from her, Akira had followed up with a quick swing underneath the man’s chin with a broom. The man had hit the floor, as expected, but he resorted to crawling on his hands and knees.

“W-What the hell is this?! How is he still moving?!” Eira shouted, pointing her icy irises on the customer.

“Keep him there, Ren!”

Akira’s shout resonated throughout the silent café, earning a nod as Ren kept the snarling, milky-eyed customer pinned to the ground, a foot planted on his neck.

“One warning’s all you get,” Ren said, narrowing his onyx irises as the customer hissed, snarled, pointed his milky eyes up at the noiret.

A disgustingly sharp crack echoed through the café’s interior, a noise that Eira remembered wincing at as she slowly, steadily got to her feet. The customer’s eyes stared at nothing, rolled back into his head, the bones of his spine threatening to poke through the skin of his throat.

Ren’s accuracy was on point. So on point, in fact, that with one twist of his foot, the customer’s neck had snapped like a twig.

“Are you alright, Ms. Rundström?” Arsène had asked, his gaze fixed on his young employer.

“I’m fine, Lupin, thank you.”

Rounding back on Ren, Eira had continued her little rant.

“...Are you trying to kill my business, Amamiya?”

Despite her annoyed tone, she was still noticeably shaken up by what had just happened. Had it not been for her employees’ timely rescue...

“He was crazed, Boss. He tried to bite you.”

“Still, that’s no excuse to murder someone, and inside the café!”

Eira couldn’t honestly remember what happened after that. One moment she and Amamiya had been arguing back and forth, and then...

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos.

She recalled bits and pieces here and there, whenever she was alone and could think calmly, clearly. All she really remembered was that she had lost track of her employees in the ensuing madness, that she had lost contact with her relatives.

How long had it been since she’d last seen Akira? Seen Arsène? Seen Ren?

Hell, how long had it been since she’d seen anyone who wasn’t a “Shuffler”, as she called them. The monstrosities who now roamed the streets, seeking out the flesh of the living? It felt like it had been years...

In the here and now, the ex-barista breathed a sigh as she pointed her blue irises up at the sky. She was quietly grateful for the fact that it was still daylight, mid-morning to be exact.

“They” appeared to be less active during the daytime, and if she couldn’t see them, she could oftentimes hear them approaching.

The slow shuffle of their footsteps still turned her skin to gooseflesh...

She bit back a shudder, digging a hand into the left-hand pocket of her black parka. A photo was removed, one that she had insisted on carrying.

It held a lot of sentimental value to her, after all.

In the picture, Akira and Arsène smiled; a small smile curled Ren’s lips, as well as her own. The photo had been taken outside the café just as the summer season began, the picturesque example of tranquility. Of old times. Of a time that seemed so far flung in the past.

Eira breathed a sigh as she folded the picture, stuffing it back into the pocket it had been taken out of.

“Akira, Arsène, Ren... You three better be okay... Idiots.”

The early winter wind whispered through the alley, bringing an all too recognizable stench of blood and decay along with it, shoving the horrendous stench up Eira’s nostrils.

The foreigner sneered, the heels of her leather boots clicking as she left the alleyway. She wasn’t certain what building she’d loot from next. A grocery store, a hardware store, or perhaps a pawn shop?

Wherever she went next, she could only hope... She could only pray...

That she recognized a face, perhaps three, when she arrived.

[beepbeeprichiellc]

Rose Thorns (2/11)

Summary: Richie Tozier and his band find themselves in a once and a life time situation but can Richie step out of his comfort zone to skyrocket the bands chances for success? Eddie Kaspbrak works at the famous Bourbon Room Club and is responsible for the nights entertainment, when a group of misfits audition for him and his boss he finds himself questioning everything he had thought he knew about himself, love and rock and roll.

A/N: I had a real hard time deciding if I wanted to continue this story. Well honestly I wanted to move on all together but @edspaghetts took the time to comment on one of my posts and just made me feel so much better. I appreciate it, really, thank you very much.

Word Count: 1710

Materlist

Part: (1) 2 (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

The door to the backstage room slammed against the wall as The Losers Club burst in, their aurora of exhilaration and the lingering sensation of adrenaline following close on their heels. The small area was instantly filled with laughter and cheering, the air around them light and breezy from their latest success. Richie Tozier hooted, jumping onto the coffee table in the center of the room. “I can’t fucking believe this!” He bellowed, feeing immeasurable. “That was awesome!”

“I didn’t know you could sing like that Rich!” Beverly squealed, “How did you even do that?”

“I don’t know!” He answered, hopping back down to the ground. In one swift motion he swept the young girl from her feet, twirling her around in the air. “It just came out like your mothers-“

“B-beep beep R-Richie.” Bill grinned, feeling the buzz of the excitement.

“Seriously Rich, why the shit didn’t you tell us you could sound like that, you would’ve been our front runner a long time ago.” Stan half bit, the scowl he usually kept on his face nearly erased by his own enthusiasm.

Richie sat Beverly down, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek earning him a light giggle. “I didn’t even know! That-that guy he just knew! God damn he’s good at his job.”

“I g-guess that’s w-why he’s the ow-owner.” Bill stuttered, clapping the young Richie on his back. “F-f-fuck we s-s-sounded great.”

“Do you think we got the part?” Stan asked, taking a seat on the far side of the room, a huff made it past his lips as his bottom made contact with the sofa. “Dupree looked pretty happy but that kid had a weird look on his face.”

“Who gives a fuck about that kid?” Richie chuckled, facing his friends in full Tozier style. “Did you see how he was dressed? There is no way he knows anything about rock and roll.” The group’s eyes widened as the trashmouth trashed the smaller boy, his tiny form appearing in the threshold of their waiting room unbeknownst to Richie. “He’s probably just some nerd from the local college needing his art history credit. I mean did you get a look at his polo and pleated pants, come on who in their right mind wears that except virgins and old-“

“Richie!” Beverly hissed, pointing to Eddie. The gangly kid turned and was fully met with the judging stare of the kid he had just been bashing. There was a surprised squeak that slipped though the trashmouth before he managed to stumble backwards, falling over the coffee table and landing on the floor with a loud thud.

Stan burst into laughter. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Right.” Eddie sneered, looking at the pathetic singer who was nursing his now bruised ass, “As fun as that speech was, I’m looking for the leader of this group.”

Silence engulfed The Losers as Bill stepped forward, “I g-guess tha-tha’d be mm-me.” Extending his hand he introducing himself, stuttering over his name three times.

Eddie felt a slight twinge of pity for the boy, his speech obviously worsened by his nerves. “Eddie Kaspbrak.” Normally the small boy wouldn’t shake hands with people, the amount of germs that each human accumulated on their palm was disgusting and it put him at risk of sickness, but he found himself doing it anyway, his body moving without his permission. “I’m the manager of the Bourbon Room.”

There was an auditable groan from Richie’s place on the floor, his face reddening with embarrassment. “Of course you are.” He muttered, covering his face with his arm. Stan laughed even harder, clutching his sides for support.

There was a smirk on Beverly’s face as she asked, “Aren’t you too young to be the manager. You have to be the same age as us.”

Eddie shrugged, feeling his stomach flip at the sudden attention. “Yeah, I’m 22.” He muttered, not bothering to explain further. Bill raised his eyebrow, undoubtedly impressed by his answer but Eddie forced himself to ignore it. “We have an opening Friday and maybe Saturday night, it’s yours if you want it.”

There was stir amongst the group, even the trashmouth sat up from the ground. “S-serously?” Bill asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

Eddie cleared his throat, the air in the room becoming thick with their excitement. “You’d be opening for our headliner, if you do well and Dupree likes you we see about setting your group up as regulars at the club. Payroll extended until you-“

“Fuck yeah!” Richie exclaimed, soaring to his feet.

Eddie jumped at the sudden burst of enthusiasm. Instinctively he took a step back and watched the kid hug his band mates, planting an overly affectionate kiss to each of their cheeks. Richie finally came to the manager, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Eddie could feel his body catch fire at his touch, not remembering the last time someone had shown him such affection. He felt the sloppy kiss to his cheek and shuttered, unsure if it was caused by the uncleanliness of the act or from his heart that now pounded painfully against his ribs.

Richie pulled away from him, still hollering with joy. The other band members exchanged their own forms of friendliness between one other, brushing off the trashmouths affection as just another passing thing. Eddie however felt his knees shake from the sudden coldness, overcome by the heat that Richie hand taken from him.

“Re-rehearsals are Wednesday and Thursday afternoons, Friday will be reserved for the headliners.” The small boy managed to sputter over the enjoyment of the others. “If you need more than we can-“

“What about the change to our group?” Stan asked, looking to his friends who shrugged at his question. “If Rich is going to be our lead than we will need to change our set up.”

“I-is the change m-m-mandatory?” Bill asked, looking over to Eddie.

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip, gazing at the the mop head who shifted his weight from one foot to another, “We will not force you to change, however it is highly recommended from what we’ve seen today.”

The Losers nodded, allowing their non-verbal agreement hanging in the air. “Th-then can we have a-a few m-m-more days of p-practice?”

“If you need it, Mike can let you in Monday and Tuesday any time after one.” Eddie replied, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in his chest.

“W-who is M-Mike?”

“He’s our bartender, he accepts deliveries on Mondays and Tuesdays so he will be the best person to let you in, enter through the alley.” Eddie instructed, suddenly feeling all eyes on him. “Ben will be here to help you set up and I should be around if you need me.”

“So this is really happening?” Beverly whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Richie felt a sudden sinking in his stomach and he was fought back the urge to throw up. This was really happening. He was going to lead the band, center stage. His enthusiasm faded into him, replaced by the sickening feeling of his nerves.

“Yes. Yes it is.” Eddie replied, smiling at his new opening act. He glanced Richie, noticing the emptiness his eyes unexpectedly held. He opened his mouth to ask him if he was alright only to realize that it wasn’t his place, no matter how much he admired him, Richie was still his employee and needed to be treated as such.

They all did, even if their electric personalities pulled him in a way he had yet to understand. Eddie had worked hard to be where he was and he couldn’t allow this group of misfits to change his plans. No. He had to stay focused. Richie caught Eddie’s eye and the small boy felt himself a shiver crawl down his spine.

The alley was rather clean for New York standards, the hustle and bustle of the city passing the Losers by as they waited beside The Bourbon Room door. The city was awake and bright eyed, people littered the streets in their business suites and expansive accessories, muttering and cursing as they headed to work. During the day the night club looked so out of place, forever under the shadow of the cities elite.

Richie sat against the adjacent wall, trying to wake himself fully. He couldn’t remember the last time they had been up before two in the afternoon, let alone out of their hotel. The others seemed to be taking the adjustment well, he, on the other hand felt lethargy pull him down.

His head lulled against this shoulders, a groan rumbling in his chest. “I’m so fucking tired.” He complained, much to his friend’s annoyance.

“I told you to go to bed at a reasonable time but you just couldn’t listen.” Beverly muttered, ignoring the disgusted look Richie threw her way. “Welcome to adulthood Rich.”

“Blah blah blah.” The trashmouth replied coldly, annoyance squirming under his skin. “Thanks mom.”

“Oh just shut up Richie.” Stan hissed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Richie opened his mouth to respond but was cut short by the creek of the back door. A tall, rather burly kid appeared before them, his denim jeans and black V-neck tightly stretched against his body. His dark skin glistened against the morning sun, the moisture in his skin accumulated along his brow, speaking volume about his hard work. He smiled brightly, “You must be the band Eddie was telling me about.”

“Ye-yeah.” Bill managed, taking an awkward step forward. “We a-a-are The Losers C-Club.”

“Mike Hanlon’s the name.” He spoke, practically boasting with confidence.

“Well I’m Beverly,” She replied, smiling kindly. “This is Bill, Stan, and the kid over there is Richie.”

“Richie huh? The same Richie who managed to insult the stage hand and the manager in the same night?” Mike asked, a shit eating grin spreading across his face. “You’re famous around here.”

Richie cringed, feeling the kid’s judging stare on him. “Ha, yeah I guess that’s me.” He managed to reply, feeling his stomach knot at the mention of the previous night. “Trashmouth galore.”

Mike chucked, “I have a feeling we are going to get along just fine.”

[onenightandgone]

Stay

(being the second part to Away, and Part 2 of @yehet-sebooty-ohorat​‘s Birthday Spectacular!)

You felt like you had been on the train forever. 

The matter of which baggage was heavier, the bags under your eyes or your small suitcase, was under constant debate as you groggily checked into the hotel beside the train station. You were too tired to be sad, too tired to think straight as you absentmindedly dialed Sehun's number before falling asleep.  

It only rang once before he picked up.

'Where are you?' His voice rang thickly with panic.

'Just at the hotel,' you murmured, yawning. 'Just calling to say good night.'

'Y/N! Where are you? Which hotel?' Sehun's voice pleaded. You could hear the hint of tears mixed into his tone, and the effect shook you out of your sleepy reverie, enough to realize what you were doing.

'I'm so sorry,' you said, choking back a sob.

'No! No, don't hang up!' Sehun urged. 'Please – tell me where you are. We'll come get you!' The tears were no longer a hint, and the sound of his distress almost wrenched your heart from your chest.

'I'm sorry – I can't,' you whispered with a sniffle. 'Please forget about me.'

You disconnected the call and curled into a ball under the covers. The dry heaves of crying started as soon as you were parted from the sound of him. Why were you doing this to yourself? The separation was nothing but pain and exhaustion so far, the torture you were undergoing completely optional and self-administered.  

It would be so simple to end it. To make it stop. All you had to do was pick up; he hadn't stopped calling since your slip-up. Just answer, tell him where you were. But that would mean going back to a life of living in the shadows of Sehun's career, always out of view of his public life. You didn't want to contend with that, to try to compete or ask him to choose. That wasn't you.

But it was you to be strong, to hold your ground stubbornly even when it looked like that ground had been ripped out from underneath you.

You bit your lip and buried your face in the pillow, willing your phone to stop vibrating, to stop ringing.  

Please, Sehun, stop trying, you begged him wordlessly. You came dangerously close to breaking, but your strength stayed intact as the bright red numbers on the bedside clock flicked forward. Eventually the phone fell silent, but it took you several more hours to fall asleep.

But did you really sleep at all? You woke up feeling just as miserable.

You rolled out onto the floor and slowly picked out a set of clothes from your suitcase. You hadn't packed much to begin with; the shoot was only supposed to take a few days, three days maximum. Now you weren't sure you were ever going home.

Your phone beeped from the nightstand where you had left it. You waded through the notifications while you were brushing your teeth.

Eleven missed calls from Sehun, three from Junmyeon. Sehun had left voicemails every time, but you didn't have the courage to listen to them. You knew him well, and you had an idea of what they contained.  

Instead you scrolled through available flights. If you were going to go, to actually follow through, you were going to have to rip yourself away completely. You selected various options and soon had booked a flight to Tokyo.

You couldn't stay.  

The phone started ringing, a haunting noise that clawed at your mind. You shouldn't have looked at the screen – of course you knew who it was.  

Please, Sehun, please give up. Your heart pleaded with the universe to let this one go, to let you go, but the phone kept ringing.  

You put it back on vibrate and grabbed a hoodie, about to wrap it in the thick black cotton when you froze, realizing who it belonged to. You had stolen it from Sehun to sleep in and forgotten about it. It even smelled like him. You shook yourself out of your reverie and stuffed the infernal phone into the middle of it, jamming it back to the depths of the bottom of your bag.

You wiped away the wetness that had started to form in the corners of your eyes, backing away slowly from the brink of tears. You couldn't cry, you couldn't lose the hard edge that had allowed you to make it this far.

You were going to make it. You were going to be happy. You commanded yourself.

Every step you took, every item you checked off your list made you feel sharply more distant. Every article of clothing that you refolded and packed pushed you further away from what had been the centre of your being for so long.

A painful haze of misery followed you like a low-lying cloud the entire shuttle bus ride to the airport. Could everyone else see it too? Could the ticket agent see it in the way your shoulders sank under the weight, the way you shuffled and barely spoke louder than a whisper? Could she hear it in the tremble of your voice?

You were barely holding it together, like delicate china that's already been broken – just now it's being held together by a few strips of tape. If you touch in it wrong or try to move it, it falls apart.  

You came dangerously close when the security agent asked you to remove your phone from your phone from your baggage. You complied, your hand trembling as the screen showed another dozen missed calls from Sehun with corresponding voicemails.

Your will began to crumble even as you passed through security.

It was only when you were waiting at the departure terminal that you started to wade your way through them. The tears that you had been holding back all morning finally began their descent as Sehun's deep voice spoke to you from the recent past.

'Y/N?' He sniffled. 'I don't understand, I don't know what happened. Where did you go? Please call me back!'

'I – I need to know you're okay. Can you at least tell me where you are? I need to know, I can't sleep. I can't do anything without knowing that you're safe.'

'Y/N, please - ' Sehun had hung up, but not before you heard the muffled sob. The sound was like a hot pin was being shoved into your heart, and the pain stung sharply in the middle of your chest.

'It's late, please call me! I love you.'  

Then came the most dreaded message – the one after you had sleepily dialed him.

'Please pick up! Y/N! Which hotel are you at? Please, Y/N!' There was a pause with some shuffling noises like Sehun was walking outside, and hurried, muffled conversation in the background. 'Y/N, please...tell me where you are. Please... I love you...'  

Sehun inhaled sharply into the receiver and you could hear the tremble in his exhale. He didn't say anything else before ending the call.

You got to your feet, wiping your face, and began to pace. You couldn't listen to anymore right now. You were on the verge of breaking completely, masking tape be damned. You ignored the strange looks you got as you did laps around the waiting area of the terminal gate; sitting still was impossible.

The airline employee finally announced that boarding for the flight to Tokyo would begin shortly. Her words seemed to slightly lift the weight off of your shoulders, like you were an inch closer to getting out from under it and escaping.

You got in line to board the flight when your phone vibrated in your pocket.  

Of course.

You took a deep breath to try to steady yourself, unsuccessfully. Perhaps, at least you owed him this.

'H-hello?'

'Y/N! Thank god!' Sehun's relief flooded over you even from such a distance. 'Where are you?'

'Sehun -'  

'Flight 306 to Tokyo is now boarding. Please have your passport and boarding passes ready to present to the agent at the gate. Again, Flight 306 to Tokyo is now boarding at gate 52-B,' the gate attendant announced loudly.

'Are you at the airport? We're so close, please wait, Y/N!' Sehun's voice rose into a panic.  

'Sehun, I have to go,' you said, your voice trailing off.

'No, please! I don't understand – why are you running away from me? I thought – I thought you loved me,' his voice trembled.

'I do,' you said, swallowing a hard, painful sob. 'I love you so much.'

'Then why?'

'I have to go,' you said. You showed your boarding pass and passport to the gate agent, who nodded and scanned the pass. You stepped forward through the automatic doors to the jet bridge. You were almost there. Your heart was breaking, but your body willed you forward. You had to see this through.

'Y/N, please,' he tried one more time.  

'Sehun, I have to go,' you said, willing your voice to quit shaking.

His voice took on the tone of defeat, and you could hear the tears that had soaked it through, changing its sound and consistency.

'I love you,' he said one last time before you ended the call.

You found your seat on the plane in record time, bundling yourself in with your headphones and blanket.  

It was a little bit longer until the airplane was taxiing out to the runway. You held your breath as you were propelled forward and up into the sky, taking the ground out from under your feet.

You had reached the point of no return.

The flight felt long and arduous and everything made you want to burst into tears.  

The couple a few rows up holding hands and making eyes at each other. They would kiss once an hour. Sickening.

The movie that you tried to watch on the screen on the back of the seat in front of yours. You couldn't focus and every line made you think of Sehun. How horrific.

The state of the snacks the flight attendants tried to pawn off on you as good food. Stale. Terrifying.

You finally landed and you filled yourself with steely determination. You had come this far on your own, you had proven your strength, even if it was just to yourself. That was all that mattered.

The next few days passed as a blur as you fought the grief from your separation. You holed yourself up in the tiny apartment you had found until you could go out in public without looking like the walking dead. The emotional burden wasn't gone, but you could manage it at least, pretend it wasn't there.

The day of your first job interview arrived. It was a tiny café that needed a barista – something you specialized in before you had met Sehun. It wasn't much, but it was a living.

The phone rang on your way to the interview, but you didn't recognize the number.

'Hello?'

'Oh thank god,' came a familiar voice. It exuded relief. 'Where are you?'

'Jongin?'

'Yeah, it's me, but we don't have time for this,' he said insistently. 'Where are you?'

'I'm in Japan.'

He sighed loudly and pointedly.

'I know you're in Japan. I know you're in Tokyo. Where are you exactly?' demanded Jongin.

'Chiyoda, I think,' you said, double-checking a sign you were walking past.

'Ok, that's a good start,' he said. 'Now where exactly?'

'Um, near the entrance to the park.'

'Oh for fuck's sake, which park?' Jongin was quickly losing patience with you.

'Kitanomaru! Why are you so upset with me?'

Jongin sighed and chose his next words carefuly. You could hear the tension in his voice.

'I need you to find a bench and stay there until I find you.'

'I can't! I have a job interview. I'm already going to be late,' you said.

'I don't care. This is far more imporant. Sit. Stay.'

Jongin hung up without further explanation, but his tone was powerful enough to compel you to obey. Maybe you didn't like that café after all. Maybe you could find a better one to work at. One with bigger windows.

You found a bench by the water and sat there for almost two hours before you heard your name being called.

'Y/N! Y/N! Thank god!' Jongin somehow materialized in the middle of a crowd of tourists, dodging through them to run over to you. He spread his arms wide as he neared, nearly tackling you off the bench. You did your best to hug him back.

'I was so worried-' he began breathlessly. 'I was so worried I wouldn't be able to find you. Thank you for listening to me. I promise that it'll be worth it.'

Jongin didn't waste time. He stood up and pulled you to your feet. His hand entrapped yours to remove all possibility of you slipping away.

'Let's go, they're waiting for us and we don't have much time. Are you packed?' He looked at you curiously.

'No, I'm not packed. I've been trying to live here now,' you told him. 'And who's waiting?'

'You'll see,' he said, towing you through the large afternoon crowd.

A long walk and several train rides brought you to the front of a large, illustrious-looking hotel. Jongin nodded politely at the front desk employees as he pulled you along behind him.

'Jongin! What is this about?' This felt like the millionth time you had asked him, but he hadn't bothered to answer you.

'There's no time!' was all he would say.

Jongin loaded the two of you onto the elevator, pressing the button for the eleventh floor.  

'I think we're going to make it,' he said mysteriously. He stayed silent the rest of the way up.

The door opened with a quiet beep, and not a second was lost before Jongin pushed you out the door and down the hallway.  

There was a small mountain of luggage at one end, and staff members making their way to and fro, packing this and that and double-checking item lists. Inevitably you were headed right for it.  

'We made it.' He sighed in relief and knocked on one of the doors.  

The door opened tentatively and Junmyeon peeked out from the small crack he had made in the entryway.  His eyes widened when he saw you behind Jongin.

'She's here? You actually found her?' he said, amazed.

Jongin nodded and took a step forward, making Junmyeon step back and open the door wider.

'Sehun!' he called with no reply.

You followed Jongin into the room. Your heart was pounding because you already had an idea of what you would see.

Junmyeon hugged you quickly, pulling back and motioning at the long, tall form hidden completely underneath the covers of one of the beds.

'Sehun, wake up!' He tried again.

A tiny rebellious moan emerged from the pile of blankets, but there was no movement.

Junmyeon put on shoes and grabbed Jongin.

'You've got it from here, I guess,' he said. 'We're going to get breakfast.'

They left in a hurry, Jongin's eyes shooting you a lingering, pleading look before disappearing, the door whipping shut behind them.

You took a deep breath and tried to shake the tension out of your arms. You stared at the burrowed Sehun for a few more moments, trying to summon the courage to do anything.  

You had steeled yourself, made yourself determined to make life happen on your own, but yet here you were again, on the verge of returning to everything that had made you leave in the first place.

It was as if there was an external force moving your body for you. You felt yourself sit in the edge of the bed next to Sehun, felt yourself place a hand on where you guessed his shoulder was.

There was a tiny whimper.

'Sehun?' You heard yourself say.  

The blankets slowly lowered to reveal his messy hair and eyes with dark circles around them.

Without thinking, you reached to comb your fingers through his angry locks. He blinked a few times at the contact, as if he were unsure of what was happening.

'Y/N?'

'Yes?' Your voice shook.

'Is this real? Are you really here?' His eyes widened and his fingers wrapped lightly around your wrist, not stopping your progress, but simply touching you.

'Yeah,' you said softly, blinking back tears. 'I'm here, Sehun.'

Sehun flew up to sitting wrapped himself around you. You had gone from fighting off the pain and isolation that you had caused yourself to suddenly being completely immersed in him in a few nanoseconds, and it was all you could do to not completely break apart.

Sehun held you fiercely in his grasp, unwilling to let you go even for a second.

'I missed you so much,' he said lowly, tremulously.  

'I'm here,' you whispered, on the verge of losing your control.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, and the hurt you saw there did the rest of the job.

Your lip trembled and the tears finally spilled over.

'I'm so sorry, Sehun,' you choked out. 'I-'

Sehun shook his head, his fingertips tracing the edges of your face delicately. He pulled back completely and threw the covers off himself. He carefully rearranged himself, spreading his legs and setting you between them. An arm settled around you, pulling you against his chest. His free hand tipped your chin up so that your face angled up towards his. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours.

'Don't – please don't talk about it,' he said softly. 'You're here now, I'm here. We're going to be okay.'

'Are you sure? I know – I know I hurt you really badly,' you said.

'Please, we'll talk about that later. I just need you right now,' he said with finality.  

Sehun's eyes strayed downward to your mouth, and he allowed you one last breath before he crashed down against your lips, consuming you. He pushed against you hungrily, desperately. The moisture from both your tears combined into a salty tale of heartbreak and reunion until Sehun came up for air. His broad chest heaved under your hands.

'For now,' he began, pausing and swallowing. 'For now, please. Please just stay.'

The simple request was all the convincing you needed. 

@yehet-sebooty-ohorat I’m sorry that this is late, but I hope you had the most amazing birthday ever, and I hope you get many more happy endings!

[thesuitelifeofjughead]

Butterfly and the Beanie

Jughead x Reader

An unlikely pairing, that starts with good intentions, but… is it match made in heaven or a match that was just made to burn?

Warnings: Not everything can have a happy ending. (Swearing, Fighting.)

Word count: 3,148

A/N: I just got done watching 13 Reasons Why and feel a bit melodramatic so this happened. I did it more for a storyline and less for cute moments. I hope you all still enjoy it.  I tried first person with this one, please give me feedback on which point of view you like my writing in best: 1st, 2nd, or 3rd. The narrative switches from flashback to current day, hope it’s not too confusing. Ps i’m very proud of this.

I’ve been thinking about those words ever since I walked out of school today.

High School Sweetheart

The definition: Jughead and I.

Or at least, it was.

As I walk home, holding everything in, I try not to think about it, but I can’t help it.

How I met the boy that ruined me in all the best and worst ways.

I met him at the Drive-In, a few weeks after my dad and I moved to Riverdale to start anew in the fall of my freshman year, after my mom passed away, I remember it clear as day.

“So this is the famous Drive-In of Riverdale.” I say, walking up to the window of concessions on a Friday night. The lot is only about a third full, the movie halfway over. “I heard the popcorn is killer.”

The boy behind the counter lifts his eyebrows at the comment, looking me over.

“And what if it is?” he asks, going to get a popcorn bag. It’s the only thing they serve besides soda and water.

“Well, I was wondering…” I say, fiddling with a straw wrapper that’s on the counter, twisting it around my fingers, tearing the paper on my ring, “if maybe I could find out how to make it?” I make eye contact, giving him a small smirk.

He brings the popcorn bag to me, a few kernels falling to the counter.

“Sorry, it’s an employee secret.” he smirks, taking some from the top of my bag causing more to fall, before throwing the few he took into his mouth. He doesn’t look like he has a uniform on, just a sweatshirt, jeans and a beanie. He doesn’t really look like he’s working anywhere, but maybe that’s just the dress code.

“Well, then how bout I become an employee?”

I can’t help but think about it now, and how it got to this point.

I lay on my bed, staring at my ceiling, tears staining my cheeks and turning my eyes red.

I look at my phone, and there’s a bunch of calls, and a few texts, all from the same person.

It’s Jughead.

‘can we talk?’

‘i didn’t mean it, it just happened.’

‘please call me.’

‘butterfly… please.’

I throw my phone at the wall, unable to look at it any longer.

Then I take my ring off and throw that too.

“Don’t overfill the machine, the popcorn will burn and it will smell for a week.” he says, showing me around the small concessions space, “and when people ask for a soda, fill it halfway with ice first, saves money.”

“Scandalous.” I say, joking around.

“The only scandalous thing around here is some the movies we play.” he says back, a smile forming on his face.

“Really?” I ask, raising my eyebrows as he walks back over to the machine to fill it up for the night rush. I lean against the counter that just a week ago I was on the other side of.

“Pretty soon I’ll be forced to show Fifty Shades to get attendance up. It’ll be anarchy.” he says, closing the door to the machine and walking over to where I am.

“Complete mayhem.” I respond with a small smile, not even noticing that my fingers are fiddling with the ring I always wear.

“Can’t wear jewelry while handling heavy machinery.” he says, motioning to my hands, making a joke. No way did a popcorn machine count as heavy machinery. I lift them up in surrender anyways, sliding it off my finger.

I make a point of holding it up before putting it on the side of the counter, only doing the motion so I remember to take it back after my shift.

“A butterfly.” he says, staring at me.

“What?” I respond, slightly confused.

“The ring, it has a butterfly on it.” he states, nodding his head to where it sat now.

“My mom gave it to me.” I tell him, “she said it means hope. Reminds me that I should never give up on it.”

I walk the halls of Riverdale High the next day, Tuesday, my head down, unable to look anyone in the eyes.

It feels like they’re all staring at me, like they all know that the couple who was ‘goals’ is now over.

It’s sickening.

I walk into the lounge and everyone goes silent. I look up to see Archie, Ronnie and Jughead. No sign of Betty.

Sitting with them used to be a normal occurrence, but now…

I look away from them, a hand going up to wipe away the tears that were starting to form and fall from my eyes. I don’t want them to see me cry.

I didn’t realize it would be this hard to see him, sitting there.

It doesn’t look as though he’s that torn up about it, although…

This is the first time he’s been at school without his beanie.

“Why do you wear that thing every day anyway?” I ask, wiping the counter. The night was almost finishing, and he’s been fiddling with his beanie all night.

It’s been a little  over a half a year since I started working at the Drive-In, Sophomore year seems to be just around the corner, and even though the summer just started, I find myself not wanting it to end.

I like spending time here, I like spending time with him.

“I’ve always had it.” he tells me, “I’ve worn it since I was a little kid. Makes me feel safe, I guess?” he shrugs.

I give him a small little smirk, “Oh really?” I ask.

“Yes Butterfly,” he says, using the nickname he gave me, “it gives me courage.”

“Courage? Oh wow. Deep.” I try not to let out a laugh. I stop myself when he playfully glares at me. “Courage to do.. What exactly?” I ask as I hop up on the counter, sitting on it. The movie credits rolling in the background, illuminating me from behind.

“Different things on different days.” he looks at me, walking over and standing next to me. “Sometimes it’s courage to get up in the morning, other times it’s for a math test.”

“And today?” you give him a smile, putting back on the ring you had taken off for work.

“Today. It’s to ask you..” he starts, his voice nearly trembling. I have a feeling I’m about to find out what’s on his mind, “if you, would like to go out, sometime? Like to Pop’s or something? Not surrounded by popcorn…”

“The legendary Jughead Jones of the famous Riverdale Drive-In, asking me on a date?” I smirk, noticing how close he is to me, his hands nearly touching mine on the counter.

I tuck a strand of hair that’s fallen out of his beanie behind his ear, the light reflecting off his black locks in a way that makes my heart stop. He’s looking at me as if his world depends on my answer. My not-sarcastic answer.

“Of course, beanie.” I say sincerely, his nickname now cemented in my mind. I nudge him on the shoulder to ease the tension, letting him know that I would’ve said yes no matter what, “You’re buying.”

Ronnie approaches me at my locker, closing it on me and causing me to jump.

“Geez, Ronnie, I was getting my books.” you say, mildly annoyed.

“You need to talk to him.” she gets straight to the point.

“No, there’s nothing to talk about.” you say, putting in your combination on the turn lock.

“He’s distraught, (Y/N), the kiss between him and Betty meant nothing, they both said so.” she says, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders.

Unwanted tears begin to form again just thinking about it, and as I try to stop them before they fall, I realize I hate that I’ve become so emotional so quickly.

“But why did he do it in the first place? And why didn’t he tell me if it meant ‘nothing’?” I look at her, opening my locker, “Why  did I have to find out from her? ”

She just stares at me, unable to answer my question.

“I thought we were happy..” my voice cracks, a few tears spilling over despite my best efforts, “so why?”

It isn’t until we get back to school that I realize somehow everyone knows. We’ve been going out all summer, in our own little world, using each other to get through everything that happened. We had cute dates in the park, walked along the river, and almost made a daily stop at Pop’s together. We are the talk of the school, and all our friends, until the news comes that Jason Blossom is dead.

In the lounge, I sit next to Jughead, his beanie flopping back against his head in a more laid back fashion. I twist my ring around my finger.

“I want to write about it.” he says.

I look up at him, trying to read his face.

“Okay…” I say, a bit unsure, “why?” it’s not a rude question, but more of an inquisitive one.

“With all the shit that happened with Archie, and the Drive-In, it may serve as a good distraction.” he says, trying to be optimistic, but there’s a sad look on his face.

The news came at the end of the summer that the drive-in is being closed down, a hard hit on us both.

“Yeah. Sure.” I tell him, giving him my full support, “maybe one day you’ll be famous.”

That earns a smile on his face as he slides his arm around me and pulls me close, the only PDA he seems to give me in public.

“Always the Butterfly.” he says, the bell ringing for next class.

All I remember is being ushered out of school by Ronnie. I don’t remember if we took the bus, or walked, or got picked up in a car. I don’t remember her bringing me into her house and laying me down. I don’t even remember changing clothes.

Yet here I am the Wednesday morning, sitting in her living room, with a baggy t-shirt on, no pants, A cover over my body.

There’s a rustle in the kitchen as Ronnie makes breakfast.

“What happened?” I ask, sipping the coffee she had given me moments before.

“You deserve a day off.” she says, bringing the plate to where I sat.

“No. What happened? The day they kissed?” I rephrase, looking her in the eyes as she sits down in the chair next to me.

“Jug said that she was helping him with his novel, trying to solve what little bits and pieces they could…”

I watch him work from the other side of the booth at Pop’s. He’s furiously writing something about the case, always writing.

I consider sitting here with him a treat though, as he’s become more scarce in spending his time with me. I still want to be supportive, but the novel is taking over his whole life. So much so, that it’s starting to make me worry. For the past month he hasn’t been answering my texts as much as he used to, doesn’t playfully banter with me, even skipping out on movie night, which has replaced our weekend activities since the drive in closed.  

It’s been an hour since either of us has spoken a word.

I sip my milkshake, wondering if he even realizes I’m there anymore.

“Beanie…I don’t know what’s more interesting, the fact that I’ve seen the back of your computer screen for the past hour, or that you haven’t even touched your food.” breaking the silence, trying to make a joke and get his attention.

He glances up momentarily before shutting his computer.

“Sorry, Butterfly, when I get in the zone…” he starts, reaching out and taking one of my hands, running his thumb over my wrist.

“You can’t stop, I get that.” I say, intertwining our fingers, “It would just be nice for you to actually be present when I’m around.”

“I know I know.” he seems really sorry, a warmth in his eyes.

I want nothing more than to kiss him right now, but I know the unspoken rule is to save that for ourselves.

His phone dings and he goes to look at it. His body shifts, urgency in his shoulders, a tension in his face.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to go.” he says, quickly stuffing his laptop back in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder.

“What? But it’s Friday. It’s movie night. You’ve missed the past two.” I say, trying anything to get him to stay.

“Betty needs me, I’m sorry.” he says before giving me a light kiss on the forehead and walking out the door.

I sit there for a few minutes, before something dawns on me. He’s never done that before, kissed me on the forehead. Kissed me anywhere in public, I realize.

Something’s changed.

“He kissed her that night, didn’t he?” I ask, interrupting Ronnie.

“What?” she says, surprised by the question.

“He kissed her.” I state, now sure of it. It wasn’t that Betty came onto him, or that he only kissed her back. He kissed her. I can feel it in my bones.

“I don’t know.” Ronnie admits, setting her mug down on the table, “They didn’t tell me anything much besides the fact that it didn’t mean anything to either of them.”

“Bullshit.” I say, a venom in my voice not meant to be directed at my only friend right now, but I can’t help it, “He meant it.”

On Monday, I try and find my boyfriend in the lounge, but I can’t seem to find him all day.

I eat lunch with Veronica, one of my closest friends out of all of the group. I tell her almost everything about Jughead and I, and she eats it all up.

She loves the fact that we’re a couple, says that we’re the couple that others are jealous of, that we’ll be the High School Sweethearts everyone wishes they were.

I just laugh and tell her that it’s not true. I tell her that we’re just a normal couple like every other one out there.

The rest of the day drags on like every other one, but I’m excited to see Beanie after school.

Friday has been playing over and over again in my mind, him kissing my forehead in Pop’s. While it’s been nice to keep intimate moments to ourselves, I can’t help but yearn to touch him and hold him and show him off in public.

Something changed on Friday, and now that maybe showing affection  was a possibility,  it’s exciting.

Jughead always meets me after school in the lounge so we can walk together, so that’s where I head towards once the final bell rings.

I’m stopped by Betty Cooper.

“I need to tell you something.” she says.

I nod. Sure, Betty and I have never been terribly close out of my group of friends, but I’ve told all of them many times that if anything ever comes up that they can talk to me about it.

“You’re going to hate me.” she begins, tears forming in her eyes. Her lips press together, not meeting my gaze.

“What? Betty-” I begin.

“I-I kissed him.” she says between gasps of air.

“Who? Archie?” I question, confused. I’m not sure why it’s such a big deal. Last time I checked she liked Archie.

“No, no (Y/N).” she says, her blonde ponytail swaying back and forth with the shake of her head, “I kissed Jughead.”

“She told me she kissed him to soften the blow.” I whisper after sitting in silence for a few minutes, thinking about everything that has happened.

“I’m sorry.” is all Ronnie says before a knock at the door makes us turn both of our heads.

“Butter- (Y/N)?” a familiar voice says from outside the door.

“What is he doing here?” every bone and muscle in my body tensing all at once, my voice cold.

“I don’t know.” she says. I can tell she’s being honest.

“I came when I didn’t see you in school. I went to your house first. And when you weren’t there I knew you were here.” he says, answering my question.

“Go away.” I say, my voice raised so he can hear.

“Please, I just want to talk.” he says, and there’s something in his voice that breaks my heart all over again.

I nod to Ronnie, a signal to let him in.

She does so, then goes into the other room to give us some privacy.

“What do you want?” I ask, not looking at him. I can’t stand to see his face or his body or his hair or his clothes. I can’t stand it.

“I’m sorry-” he begins.

“No! You don’t get to be sorry.” I say, my voice rising, “you don’t get to do that.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“BULLSHIT. You knew EXACTLY what you were doing.” I stand to meet him face to face.  “You kissed her, Jug. And I had to find out from her. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me right away when you started feeling this way? Why didn’t you tell me you were unhappy?” I say, a mix of rambling and yelling coming out as tears start to form for what seems like the billionth time in the past few days.

“I was never unhappy, (Y/N), you should know that.” he says, and I can see in his body language that he wants to reach out to me, but now he doesn’t get that luxury.

“Okay.” is all I can say, wiping under my eyes.

“It was the heat of the moment, I swear to you that much. It was a mistake.” he says, sadness in his eyes, “I don’t love her, I love you.”

“It’s a bit too fucking late for that.” I spat, my voice shaking as tears spillover my cheeks with the words. I know I’m probably being too harsh, but even if it was a mistake, it happened and I know in my heart I have to move on now.

“Butterfly-” he says, lifting an arm to reach out to try and comfort me.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.” my hands going up reflexively to keep him at an okay distance.

He pauses, looking at my hands.

“Your ring. You’re not wearing it.” he says, his voice so small I can barely hear it. I give him a look, as if to say, ‘why is that important right now?’

All he does, though, is turn around and quietly leave, the door shutting with a small click.

It’s only then that I know.

As his footsteps disappear beyond the door, I know in my heart that my high school sweetheart, my beanie, my hope- is gone.

Part Two: Here

Part Three: Here

Tag list: @always-chocolate @theselfishllama @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @idle-lanes @xbobaaa @juneb @vanessa-sanch-blog @murderyoursoul @sardonic-jug  @brokeenline @baz-catalano @juggheaddjonesworld  @darkxwithoutxlight (If you wanna be on my tag list, just ask!)

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Between: A PJO Fanfiction

This is a fic that’s mostly made of vignettes, some personal headcanons and some canon extension about those referenced Nico moments that were never explicitly addressed leading into those Solangelo moments we all wanted to get. 

I hope you all enjoy!

Also read on AO3

Trigger Warning: suicide attempt

Preview:

Nico drifted in a margin between a starless sky and a sea.

Somewhere between, only breaching surface enough to breathe and take another seed between his lips and hope it grew into something better.

There was only darkness, only shadow. He was trapped somewhere in the land between life and death with no way to navigate through.

Would anyone come? Would there ever be any light?  Or would he be trapped there for the rest of time? Even if he escaped this fate, would it matter if what he wanted most he could never have? How much more would he have to sacrifice to make it all matter if he had already sacrificed everything?

Nico would do it. One last time.

He sank.

Nico struggled.

“You can’t even summon one ghost. Absolutely pathetic,” his father had sneered, in his eyes an ancient cruelty, and yet his words slid off Nico’s numbed skin like rain and did not reach within. Inside of him something continued to wither. “This is why your sister should have lived. You have amounted to nothing, be gone from my sight.”

And so Nico had expelled himself from Hades, wandered amongst the dark sands and caverns until he found himself surface-bound. How far and how long he had walked was anyone’s guess, but exhaustion clung to him as he desperately tried to inch his way through a darkened forest. Where he was, Nico didn’t particularly care to know or find out.  

“Why won’t she answer me?” Nico asked Hades, somebody, no one in particular. His vision was swimming, his tongue felt swollen and yet his mouth was so dry. “Did she...did she hate me so much—that much? And I didn’t…how didn’t I know?”

He knew he had spoken the words but were so far away that he couldn’t hear them or know if anyone had answered. There was an emptiness inside him, something insidious. Was it hunger? Nico thought oddly distant. Nico couldn’t remember the last thing he had eaten, he had burned everything he had stolen in offering. But it was dull and insignificant in comparison to the insidious emptiness inside of him, the void that ached, the sickening continual pain.

Nico wandered, moving only because there was nothing else he could do. He stumbled when he couldn’t walk, crawled when his legs folded beneath him, lay down when he could no longer move. He curled up in that oppressive darkness, with barely enough strength to lift his limbs.

               Nico wondered if he would disappear if he waited. Would he disappear into the underworld without a trace? Certainly he would be sent to the Asphodel Fields and become a nameless shade, as Lord Hades had repeatedly told him because Nico would never amount to anything. It was his sister who should have lived. She had been the promised one, never Nico.

               Would he even make it there or would he instead be bound for the Fields of Punishment? Nico thought suddenly seized with panic. Was this not punishment enough, to be so lonely that every moment felt as if it were a new death? If he wouldn’t even be reunited with his sister in death, if she did not want him even then, what could he do? He didn’t have anyone left, his mother, his sister, gone—

               “Papa…” Nico croaked and reached, even though he didn’t exist and wouldn’t be there to take his hand. That gentle but stern, that firm but loving Papa who had lived in his memory must have just been that, a beautiful golden memory, a dream-figment. A beautiful story that Nico had cultivated to protect his heart from the truth that his world was only two people who were gone forever. But oh, his golden memory. A hand that didn’t hurt and took nothing from him reaching down to grasp his own, squeezing gently and keeping Nico close and safe. A curve of lip that may have been a smile. Dark eyes that were fond and warm. Nico didn’t need much, only that small flicker of happiness, that dim and seemingly inconsequential reason, and he would have been content for the rest of his life. What wouldn’t he give to sink into that dream and live there in that moment for the rest of time? What wouldn’t he have given to have the chance to go home?

               Nico, freezing, starving, and half-mad with a grief just wanted to go home.

He wanted it so bad that he could feel it in the root of his teeth. He could see it in his mind’s eye, feel it against his flesh, reach for it in the dark. Home, Nico thought desperately as he plunged his hand into shadow as his heart’s cry intensified. Papa, please, take me back home. I want to go home, home—

And then suddenly the ground opened up, and Nico fell into shadow.

Nico would never forget that first unwitting leap, how he screamed but no sound came out as he tumbled through the darkness. The shadows reached for him, pulling him further and further, called to him with in a choir of the damned—our prince, our prince, our prince—

Nico fought and surfaced, expelled from the shadows violently about a mile away. He hit the ground hard, slid down a ravine and into the mouth of a cave, and lay there stunned, in so much pain that he couldn’t move, and absolutely exhausted.  

When Nico finally managed to raise his head, Minos was looking down at him shimmering and iridescent.

“There may be hope for you after all.”

Nico was ten.

Nico’s breath swirled and caught the light, his puffs of air an iridescent white in the winter night. There was a distant stinging against his face and neck, where the collar of his jacket didn’t quite cover, but it didn’t bother him much anymore.

               Christmas-time in Dresden was a beautiful blaze of light in the night, the Christmas market was full of venders and people bustled around the stands in search of hot mulled wine and a litany of traditional sweets and foods.  A Ferris wheel and carousel churned in a dizzying rhythm, bursts of music and laughter filled the air. Nico didn’t know how to speak German (the fact that he could parcel out vague meanings was odd and he couldn’t really explain it), which was an issue because after accidentally shadow-traveling there from rural Idaho he was in desperate need of both sleep and food but couldn’t figure out a way to ask for either nor did he have any euros on him. So he had taken to slipping through alleyways and between stalls in search of something to fill his stomach that he could easily nick.

               Maybe it was Nico’s vaguely panicked and hungry look that drew attention, but suddenly a man was standing in front of him. Tall and stocky, with a beard full of curls, he looked down on Nico with blue eyes and crinkled laugh lines.

               “Fröhliche Weihnachten!” he greeted with a booming voice that made Nico jump and his hands twitch for his Stygian sword. The man—the baker, who obviously could not see beyond the thin veil of Mist, nor perceive the threat of Nico’s entire existence, because he began to rattle off fast paced German and Nico only vaguely caught a mention of him asking Nico if he was hungry.

               “I’m sorry, I don’t speak German,” Nico croaked, his voice sounding raspy and strange in his own ears.

               “Ah! Sorry, sorry,” the baker said in very heavily accented English before reaching over to scoop a small plate of cookies that looked vaguely like gingerbread and place it in Nico’s hands. “Lebkuchen for you! Have a happy Christmas!”

               “I didn’t pay—“ Nico tried to say, before suddenly a tide of tourists nearly swept him away as he still clutched his cookies.

               Nico was then standing alone in a sea of people with his newly acquired cookies, feeling stranded. However the cookies looked so good, dusted with powered sugar, wafting the scent of ginger and molasses and candied citron. He had just lifted one up to his mouth, and into an alleyway, and before he could even put together a new thought suddenly he was face to face with the faint shimmering image of Minos, his eyes glinting coldly from behind the pale.

               “I believe you thought to change your father’s opinion of you,�� Minos scoffed and Nico felt his teeth clench. Suddenly nothing was okay again.  “How do you believe you could possibly gain enough power to do that and save your sister, if you can’t even manage to shadow travel to Boise from Cadwell without ending up in Germany!”

               “Shut up!” Nico growled back at him, storming into shadow and dropping into it, all his thoughts trained on Boise and focused by his rage.

It was only when he fell out of cleaning supply in Bismark to the surprise and concern of a couple of employees that he realized he hadn’t taken his bite and promptly fainted. He spent that Christmas trying to escape from a holding cell in Montana.

Nico jumped.

For a moment everything was still, no pain, no hunger, no exhaustion. Nico became impressions: a sword, a golden memory, his sister’s smile, his mother’s laughter so clear it was as if his mind had been waiting until the end to give him one final blessing—

—the air whistled and hummed as if alive the grey water came up to embrace him—

Who knew there was

an entrance to

the underworld

beneath

the

Golden Gate Bridge?

Nico stuffed himself full of cake and ice cream, as much as he could get his hands on, unable to give up the opportunity. He avoided Percy Jackson’s mother’s concern, keeping his eyes cast down on his fingers.

“That plan is crazy,” Percy said quietly, tapping a frantic rhythm out with his finger on the table. Nico dared a look through his hair and saw Percy’s unwavering green stare on him. Nico immediately looked away, picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails, twisting his ring on his finger again and again.

“It would work,” Nico said, his throat feel scratchy. Percy was still looking at him, and Nico could almost feel it dig into his skin, raising his blood pressure, making his face feel hot. Nico hoped beyond all hope that Percy didn’t notice the way that Nico desperately wanted to disappear.

“How do you even know that?”

“If it’s good enough for Achilles, it would be good enough for you,” Nico scoffed. Percy frowned, lips pulling down, and Nico forced his gaze back to his hands and his empty plate.

“Annabeth would kill me for trying something so stupid,” Percy noted, and Nico swallowed desperately, bracing himself against the unnamed emotion that was rising within him.

“Just think about it,” Nico said as he forced himself to stand up. His stomach lurched with the movement, and he braced against the table.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?” Percy suddenly asked, reaching out to him. “I could ask my mom—“

“I’m fine, Jackson,” Nico said, nearly spitting out the words and flinching away from the touch. “I’ll see you later. Let me know what you think.”  

Nico left as quickly, rushing down the fire escape. He ran three blocks before he was forced to stop to throw up the contents of his stomach.

Nico sat across from Annabeth at the table.

On a day to day basis Nico actually liked Annabeth when he wasn’t hating her for things that were completely and utterly out of her control. That didn’t mean that being in the same room with her was easy. It couldn’t be when Annabeth could so easily attain the things that Nico could never have with a semblance of grace. She was what he couldn’t be, she had run away and yet she had found a home. She was harsh and yet people could look beyond that to love her. Annabeth was…she was…

Annabeth looked fondly at Percy’s retreating figure and Nico wanted to find somewhere in the ground that he could be buried. Her eyes trained on him, and Nico felt himself bristle.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Nico said because he honestly hadn’t.

“You almost beheaded her,” Annabeth said with a raised eye brow.

“Well at least then she wouldn’t stick her nose where she doesn’t belong,” Nico said as he sunk down in his chair. Annabeth was not amused, and Nico wished somehow he could sink lower.

“Listen, I understand, after the Battle of Manhattan we’ve all been highly strung. But you can’t be making enemies here if you want to stay.”

“She snuck up behind me and—“ Nico felt his throat close around the word “scared”. Instead he sealed his mouth shut.  

“Just…don’t do what you’ve been doing,” Annabeth said as she tugged at one of her perfect princess curls, her grey eyes almost powdery blue in the midday sun.  

“And what have I been doing?” Nico snapped, feeling that ugly unnamed feeling rise up once more.

“I’m not in the mood to deal with your bad attitude right now,” Annabeth said as she leveled annoyed glare. “Just apologize to Ares Cabin before someone puts a hit in for Capture the Flag or something.”

“Fine,” Nico said as he stood up and burst from the pavilion. He stomped out, watching as the other campers gave him a wide breadth. Had they always done that? Nico suddenly thought and was seized by panic. When had they started doing that? Why had Annabeth said that? Why did it have to be Annabeth--?

Nico smacked into a girl from Aphrodite Cabin. Her eyes blew out and her face drained of color, as she cringed and stuttered out an apology. Suddenly Nico was swimming in a rising sea of whispers, of fears. What had been his strength was suddenly his undoing. How had he not noticed? How?

“Nico, you alright?” Percy Jackson called from the training fields, his hair slick with sweat, his shirt riding up.

Nico ran back to his cabin and slammed the door close. By nightfall Nico had left Camp Half-Blood for good trying to outrun the jealousy that was threatening to drown him, and the unadulterated anger for the one who caused it.  At least, Nico thought, someone was waiting for him this time.

Between was different, not bad, but different.

Persephone was Persephone. She had her days where she viewed Nico as one would a wall ornament or try to throw fruit at him as if he could get exercise by playing fetch. But on somedays it almost seemed like she didn’t mind when Nico sat with her in the garden and let her ramble about nitrogen and tree roots.

Sometimes Hades would almost smile when he looked at Nico. And sometimes, Hades looked like he wanted Nico to call him father and was always disappointed when Nico didn’t. But they were working on it. Slowly but steadily they were working on something. And that seemed to be enough for the both of them.  

And Nico had Hazel now, a sister that Nico hadn’t known before but would never let go. He relearned how to laugh at himself. Remembered how nice it was to sit next to somebody and not have to speak, of the inherent understanding that came between siblings. Understood that though he could never replace what he lost and would always feel the ache within him, maybe, just maybe, he could move forward inch by inch with Hazel by his side. Nico remembered thinking he might like that, and thought that liking things was almost an intoxicating sensation. Percy Jackson disappearing and appearing with a forecast of severe memory loss had been stressful, but he was with Hazel and Nico could do things to keep himself from thinking of him for longer than a cursory acknowledgement.

Nico thought could do something about all of it. So he tried.

Anguish.

Something wet was seeping out of his side which hurt, it hurt so badly. He wanted it to stop, he had to get whatever was digging itself in his head out before it ate him whole—!

“Nico, you have to stop! You need to keep moving. Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore.”

Nico pulled his hand away, and realized they were painted with his blood. His arms were gouged, blood trailing down his knuckles and over the hilt of his sword, but he felt no pain besides a dull ache. Suddenly his mouth twisted and laughter odd and broken and exhausted scraped his throat as he stumbled forward. The wasted plains of Tartarus in all their horror lay out before him, and he had nothing to protect himself from it.

“I can’t…keep going,” Nico gasped out of a laugh, his steps swaying, his vision swimming. He felt ancient and frail as he swam amongst the curses in the belly of the deepest pit with fire in his blood and sickness in his heart.  

“You have to. You can’t give up, Nico. You can’t ever give up. If you do they will capture you, and everything could be over,” her voice was calm and urgent in his ears. He had long since stopped wondering why, why then, why now? Maybe he had been saving Bianca for the moment when he needed her most. Or maybe that was the form his scantly remaining powers took to guard him from complete and utter madness. Maybe it was his conscience, or his heart. If he still had a heart left, maybe its beat would be Bianca’s voice. Nico didn’t know, nor did he care.

“I know…I know,” Nico said, trying desperately to breathe through the contractions that were choking him and the stinging in his throat. “If I die here…do you think my soul will still make it to…”

“You can’t think like that, please don’t think like that Nico. You have to get there, and you can’t let them catch you.”

“Why not?” Nico asked, as he had to force his sword into the ground to steady himself for a moment. It hurt, everything hurt. Why did he have to keep on going? He knew he had to, but all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep forever.  

“Nico!”

“I’m sorry,” Nico gasped as he snapped back to attention, forcing his legs up from where his knees had given out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry—“

Suddenly he could feel it, a rumbling in the abyss. The monsters, Nico thought panicked, they were coming back—

“Nico!”

The darkness in Nico boiled and frothed out from the inside. He could feel the shadows writhing beneath his skull, welling from his bones and spilling through his veins. Everything shifted, he was sinking as the corruption took a hold of him, and despite everything in him that was fighting back there was barely anything left of him to hold onto. The shadows ripped into him, bidding him to melt away into the darkness, and Nico didn’t want to go.

He stumbled and fell, still fighting against the claws. He screeched as he met twin cruel grins.  

Nico drifted in a margin between a starless sky and a sea.

Somewhere between, only breaching surface enough to breathe and take another seed between his lips and hope it grew into something better.

There was only darkness, only shadow. He was trapped somewhere in the land between life and death with no way to navigate through.

Would anyone come? Would there ever be any light?  Or would he be trapped there for the rest of time? Even if he escaped this fate, would it matter if what he wanted most he could never have? How much more would he have to sacrifice to make it all matter if he had already sacrificed everything?

Nico would do it. One last time.

He sank.

“Why do you keep trying to talk to me?” Nico asked Will Solace bluntly.

Nico was sitting on a bed in the infirmary, having stripped off his shirt so Will could take a look at his gashes. Nico hadn’t particularly wanted to come to the infirmary, as he didn’t know how those in danger of dying would feel with his presence. At the same time, Will Solace had impressed him with his guts. And Nico always honored those who he believed deserved it with his respect, so he had come to the infirmary with those thoughts in mind.

               “Well…I don’t know. I just like talking to you is all,” Will answered, the question’s premise seemingly amusing to him. Nico wasn’t amused.

               “Why?” Nico continued to press.

               “You’re easy to like, Nico,” Will chuckled fondly.

               Nico scowled, mostly out of bafflement. He was definitely not easy to like. In his whole life the only people he had managed enough fondness to be considered genuine affection from were his mom and sisters…and his dad.  But they were also biologically inclined to like him at least a little bit. Or at the very least not to immediately hate him or anything. Not that he didn’t have the skills to make them regret that. It was an unfortunate side effect of being a child of the underworld. Reyna was a different, special case. She had shared her strength with him, they were more like comrades in arms than anything (though a part of Nico knew he was just kidding himself).

               Though thankfully both Bianca and Hazel had avoided that curse where Nico and most other children of Hades/Pluto before them hadn’t. People had loved Bianca, loved how thoughtful, mature, and polite she was, how interesting she could be with that bit of rebellion in her and the pretty curl of her hair. And people utterly adored Hazel, it was almost impossible not to with her bright welcoming smile and her inclination to fierceness and determination and a startling flash of beauty to boot. If Nico had done anything in his life that he could be proud of, it was saving Hazel. Hazel, who deserved to be loved and would be loved by anyone who met her. She made it seem easy even though Nico knew it wasn’t. Dark and rangy Nico di Angelo was unlikable enough already without the blood of the king of the dead compounding the issue.

               And that suited Nico just fine. He knew he wasn’t a pleasant person to be around on most days. Nico certainly didn’t blame anyone for getting annoyed with him, or frustrated, or creeped out. Even Nico felt that way about himself pretty regularly. When people were nice to him, it was more of a reflection on their character than anything Nico did to give them a high opinion. (People like dumb Percy Jackson who was so inherently good that he would again and again try to save his greatest enemy rather than kill them at first opportunity like Nico would have and would never get mad at Nico and took all the blame on even though it was Nico’s fault because even though Percy didn’t like to be the hero, he was the greatest hero Nico would ever know. And Nico would never really hate Percy for being so kind to him in all of his times of need, even when he had wanted to with all his heart. And even if Nico didn’t like like Percy anymore, Nico would always like Percy Jackson and consider him one of his greatest friends and allies. Though Percy never needed to know that.)  

               But hearing that from Will Solace made him feel…well, he was flattered honestly. Confused, sure. Wary, yes. Nico had no clue where Will had gotten the idea in his head, but he was flattered because it had been, well, a nice thing to say. An unwarranted and undeserved compliment, but Will Solace was a nice person. And Nico knew from just knowing Will for a couple hours that Will was one of those people who could find a glimmer of goodness in anybody, and that was an admirable trait. So if Will thought he was likable, though it was misguided, Nico had to believe he said it out of kindness.

               “Thank you,” Nico admitted awkwardly, twisting his ring around his finger. Mostly because he really didn’t know what to say, and denying the compliment would have been rude to a person who had only been nice to him.

               “Don’t worry about it,” Will said with a fond look, giving Nico’s hand a pat. Nico resisted the urge to jump back and nurse his hand as if he had been burned. “Alright, I’m going to start cleaning the wounds. It’ll probably sting a bit—oh wait, before that, I’ll give you some nectar and ambrosia.”

               “That stuff doesn’t really work on me,” Nico told him.

               “Unicorn draught?” Will offered and Nico shrugged. “Coach Hedge’s medicinal gum?”

               Nico winced, and Will chuckled.

               “Alright, gum it is,” Will said as he reached to grab a box.

               “That stuff tastes like peppermint and graveyard dirt,” Nico groaned as Will offered him a stick.

               “Funny how you know that exact flavor. You sound like quite the connoisseur,” Will said, as Nico took the stick of gum.

               “What can I say, it’s always bone-dry,” Nico added as he snapped the gum between his teeth, baring them to Will so he could see he was chewing.  

               “Was that a pun?” Will asked with a laugh that was bright and sudden. “Nico, son of Hades, likes to make puns.”

               “Hey, I have to have some way to torture my unwilling victims,” Nico scoffed.

               Both Will and Nico shared a something akin to a smile, something tentative and yet warm and natural. It was maybe an alliance? Something too fresh to be called a friendship or anything that extreme. But Nico got the sense that maybe Will Solace was someone he wouldn’t mind spending three days with.

               “Hey,” Percy said as he sat down next to Nico. Nico was taking a sip from a water bottle, and regarded Percy curiously albeit slightly nervous.

               “Hey,” Nico replied, fiddling with his water bottle.

               For a few moments they just sat next to each other, side by side. Percy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and seemingly took a deep breath before peeking over at him. There was nothing angry in his gaze, nothing hurt. Instead, there was something kind there.  

               “I wanted to talk about things, but, I don’t know. Do you want to talk?” Percy asked him honestly, running a hand through his dark hair.

               “I’m not good at talking.”

               “I’ve had better conversationalists, sure. But there’s only one Nico,” Percy noted before looking ahead somewhere. Nico followed his gaze to the younger children playing Harpies and Hopscotch on the green. “You were like that, when we first met. A lot of energy.”

               “I was not,” Nico protested weakly, Percy gave him a look and Nico groaned. “I was embarrassing. If this is you trying to make amends, bringing back my dark past is not the way to do it. You may know I wasn’t always a badass, but they don’t know that and I will kill you to shut you up.”

               “Alright, alright,” Percy said as he help up his hands in surrender, his laughter bright and Nico found himself almost smiling. “You going to stay?”

               “Yeah, I think so,” Nico said as he twisted his ring. “I want to try living up here again. Give it a second chance.”

               “Good. I’m glad,” Percy said. “Nico…I’m sorry. You went through a lot and…I didn’t make it easier for you.”

               “You couldn’t control the fact I had a crush on you.”

               “But still. I’m sorry.”

               “…I forgive you,” Nico said, the words hard to sound out, but the moment they were out it felt as if the weight of the world was off his shoulders. Percy clapped his hand on Nico’s shoulder and squeezed. Nico rolled his eyes and elbowed him.

               “…Will Solace though, huh?” Percy commented.

               Percy yelped as Nico dumped the Gatorade in his water bottle over his head.  

Nico pressed up on the balls of his feet.

He wasn’t tall, this he would grudgingly admit. But Nico stretched and reached, curling his fingers in the sleeve of Will’s sweatshirt.

Nico kissed Will Solace, and he felt his eyes flutter shut. Their lips were pressed together, and Nico could almost feel his heart pounding in his head and he felt completely and utterly alive. It was delicious and it was a breathing magical thing between them and it was so good—impossibly good that Nico couldn’t believe that it was true. And Nico knew he wanted to do it again and again, wanted to drown Will Solace and his beautiful golden curls and warm grins that dimpled and the freckles on his golden skin and his hands that were gentle and kind with a thousands kisses.

In that moment Nico was made radiant, he was made daring, he was made foolish, he was made new by love (though he couldn’t admit it yet, not yet, but maybe soon, maybe again).

Will Solace cupped Nico’s cheek, tracing his thumb over Nico’s skin, and shivered into the kiss. When they parted, Nico’s breath was ragged and his mouth felt hot and Will’s eyes were the color of morning glories darkened and intense.

“I…wow,” Will Solace said with an appreciative whistle, and Nico couldn’t help but feel his mouth quirk. “That was…that was perfect.”

“Stop that,” Nico said, unable to help the fact he was suddenly embarrassed by the intensity of his thoughts. Nico felt his entire face explode into heat from his neck to the tips of his ears.

“It totally was,” Will said with a dreamy smile that looked love-struck, and Nico could tell he was being completely serious and yet, somehow, that was even worse.

“I was awful,” Nico argued weakly, kicking a rock with the toe of his boot.

“You definitely weren’t, here, feel my heart beat,” Will said as he suddenly grabbed Nico’s hand and pressed it to his chest. And suddenly Nico could feel it, the way Will’s heart fluttered against his ribs, and his fingers twitched. “See? You’ve made my heart race!”

“You…I see,” Nico admitted as he swallowed nervously.

“So this means I like you, and you like me.”

“It does,” Nico conceded. Trying not to let it show how happy he was when Will said the words out loud, that Will Solace liked Nico di Angelo and Nico di Angelo liked Will Solace. It was right, in a terrifying way.

“That makes me ridiculously happy,” Will said as he curled his hand around Nico’s and pulled it from his chest, he held their hands intertwined together between them. “You make me ridiculously happy.”

“You make me happy too,” Nico told him, as he squeezed Will’s hand back.

Nico was. He really was.

[beaniegender]

Fandom Fic Rec Days - My Personal Favorites Fic Rec List!

In honor of #ficrecdays (happening Feb. 10th, 11th, and 12th), and my stupidly long ao3 bookmarks page which is a pain to go through, I want to make this list of the best of the the best of my favorite fics - the ones that make me gasp or laugh or cry and just generally ache at their beauty each time I read them. I hope you’ll read and enjoy them too! I encourage you to try something even outside a fandom you know well because all of these works are great fiction in their own right.

This list includes a total of 24 fics or series from nine fandoms: James Bond (3 works), The Martian (1 work), Marvel which is mostly Captain America (5 works/series), Soccer RPF which is all FC Barcelona RPF (4 works/series), Star Trek (2 works), Star Wars (1 work), Supernatural (2 works/series), True Blood (1 work), and The West Wing (5 works).

Some of these fics are already wildly popular, but in order to promote less popular fic a bit more, within a fandom works are sorted from least to most ao3 kudos. Read on and discover my absolute favorite fanfics!

James Bond

Search and Seizure by @kryptaria00q and @stephrc79 (16670 words, James Bond/Q/Alec Trevelyan) - After two assassination attempts on MI6 executives, the British Secret Service now requires self-defence training for all high level employees. Bond and Alec have taken it upon themselves to help keep their lover safe, no matter how much Q might hate them for it. Too bad they never seem to be able to stay on track. (a.k.a. frisking porn with plot)

basically trust porn along with being real porn. everyone’s POV gets shown off and it’s just so much fun watching these boys interact when they so obviously care for each other!

Treasons, Traitors, and Treachery by kryptaria and @zooeyscigar (63245 words, James Bond/Q) - All James Bond wanted was a quiet holiday on his luxury motoryacht on the Costa del Sol. Time to recuperate and think about his future with MI6. But his plans get hijacked when a traitor to the crown returns, bringing news of an even greater threat to MI6. And the traitor isn’t working alone. Thankfully, neither is James.

every single character in here is written flawlessly, and the OC is one of the BEST OCs to ever OC. There’s sass and hilarity, believably written government intrigue, and a very realistic level of depth in all the characters.

so you were never a saint. by @paperclipbitch (12319 words, gen) - “I think Bond’s trying to be your friend,” Eve tells him. “…well,” Q says slowly, “this is a new and disturbing development.”

the asexual!Q epic that defined a lot of my Q headcanons. also a lot of my MONEYPENNY IS AMAZING headcanons! it’s sort of an ensemble fic and sort of a character study and it just makes me like MI6 so much.

The Martian

You Know You Have a Permanent Piece of My Medium-Sized American Heart by tricatular [on tumblr but I’m not able to tag them, sorry!] (9151 words, gen) - “Hey Hermes!” The ambient suspicion level in the Rec ratcheted up significantly. Kapoor was disturbingly cheerful. “We’ve sent you some mission updates in the data dump, but Mitch and I wanted to personally let you know—” Mitch visibly rolled his eyes in the background. “—That thanks to some…strong suggestions from the White House, and on Annie and Director Sanders’ recommendation, we’ve started releasing Watney’s Mars logs to the public.”

deftly mixes standard narration, transcripts of recordings, and social media posts to show what Mark’s journal back to Earth would have been like both for him and for everyone who cared about his story (ie. the whole planet).

Marvel / Captain America

Walking Far From Home by TaleWorthTelling (6222 words, various Sam-centric pairings) - Sam’s relationship with birds starts early and inexplicably.

basically, Sam Wilson’s whole life. as the author’s note says, “Sam is the only person with his shit together, but he got there the hard way.” and then we’re treated to 6000 words of what that path was like, including stellar input from Sam’s OC family and the familiar MCU favorites. and Sam can talk to birds!

The Murder Ballads by BetteNoire (160839 words, 3 works, Steve/Bucky) - Something wicked is coming for Steve Rogers. Luckily for him, something even more wicked stands in its way: the unrepentant, unbroken Bucky Barnes. A murder-mystery/action thriller with violence, magic, and several big MCU guest stars.

like most CA fans I’ve read a stupid amount of post-winter soldier fic, so the first praise for this series is that it has a completely original take on that subject. and that take - the plot complexity, the multi-layered characterizations, the sequel - made me fall in love with Bucky all over again and permanently changed the way I think of him.

your blue-eyed boys by Feather (123233 words, 4 works, Steve/Bucky with sides of Pepper/Tony, Bruce/Betty, and Clint/Natasha) - Steve has no plan. Not because he hadn’t tried to make one. He’d tried to make lots of plans. Plan, adapt, plan again, tried to think of every contingency. And then he’d thrown them away, because there wasn’t much point. What could you plan for? He couldn’t guess the possible contingencies, the situations, the potentials. And he sure as sure hadn’t figured on what’s happened now, on coming back to his place and finding Bucky here. He hadn’t even hoped for that. He hadn’t realized he could. [post-Winter Soldier recovery fic]

if you’d like a slightly more typically-plotted approach to your post-WS fic than “The Murder Ballads” you absolutely can’t go wrong with “your blue-eyed boys”. it’s the most realistic version of Bucky’s recovery that I can imagine - heartbreaking and sickening and real. and the love between Steve and him and the team as a whole is obvious. DON’T MISS the associated verse, which is 450000 words (and growing) of shortfic in the same timeline, and which incidentally has the best OCs in the entire fandom.

Hollow Your Bones Like a Bird’s by @scifigrl47 (95514 words, Clint/Phil) - In the wake of the Chitauri invasion, Clint Barton wakes up in a world that he very nearly had a hand in destroying. And confronting a loss he might not be able to cope with. The Avengers always needed something to avenge, but once the crisis is past, what keeps them together?

I have yet to see a better representation of grief in fanfic, and that’s only maybe half of Clint’s problems in this fic. maybe you’ve noticed I like realism when fic deals with hard topics, and this shies away from nothing - and Clint will treat you to excellent analyses of his friends, as well as many bird facts, along the way!

Ain’t No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar [on tumblr but I’m not able to tag them, sorry!] (107076 words, Steve/Bucky) - It’s six in the morning, and Steve is heading out on a run when he nearly trips over a bouquet of sunflowers on the front steps of his brownstone. For a second paranoia takes over, and he kicks the flowers a little, waiting for them to explode. They don’t. They also came with a card, which he picks up. The front of the card has a tasteful picture of the Brooklyn bridge at sunset. It’s very nice and sedate, like the kind of card you would buy to give to your boss. On the inside someone has written a short message in big, shaky block letters. I AM SORRY FOR SHOOTING YOU. Steve sits down hard on the steps.

ok yet more wonderfully detailed post-ws Bucky trying to recover fic, except in this one Bucky is homeless and a drug addict and ADOPTS THE BEST OCS with the BEST POVS EVER, oh my GOD. also Steve is smart and kind, Sam is long-suffering (and smart and kind), and the whole thing is hilarious.

Soccer / FC Barcelona RPF

only the children (know what they’re looking for) by therestisdetail (7253 words, gen) - I drew a picture of him, later, but I shall not show it to you for it is a sad demonstration of what will happen if you stop drawing when you are six, and certainly much less charming than its model. He wore a shirt that was too large and had soft dark eyes hiding beneath dark, indecisive hair; it did not seem to know if it was short or long, or what shape it wanted to be. He was very pale, very slight, had no shoes, and held a battered football beneath one arm with an air of pride. (Le Petit Prince redone feat. FC Barcelona)

a young Andrés Iniesta meets an even younger Leo Messi, and they quite simply tear my heart in two. no knowledge of The Little Prince required, but the fic is just as understatedly beautiful as the original.

Like a Hand Grenade by @meretricula (20430 words, 2 works, Cesc/Messi) - Cesc Fabregas is born a girl. She still loves football.

full disclosure, I do not care about Cesc Fabregas. I didn’t care about Cesc Fabregas even before his career got, frankly, weird and dispiriting. but BY GOD these works make me care about genderbent!Cesc and everything she could have been. the sequel is particularly nice for some cameos from other well-loved players!

Go Gentle by @ferritin4​ (20977 words, eventually Xaviesta) - Things change, but only some things. In which Barça is indeed més que un club, no one stays on top forever, and it all comes back to Andrés in the end.

hands down my favorite football rpf. uses the A/B/O trope and the idea of pack dynamics to tell the story of the last decade of Barcelona football, which makes a hell of a lot of sense, and although Andrés is quietly the star, the different POVs let a lot of people shine.

It’s Going to Take a Lot to Drag Me Away from You by meretricula (31296 words, 10 works, Xaviesta, Fabregas/Messi/Pique, and Messilla) -  Everybody knows Barcelona’s midfielders are psychic anyway. (Soulbonding AU)

try to tell me that a soulbonding AU isn’t the most logical thing in the world for Xavi and Iniesta, just try to tell me that! there’s also a good look at how the politics of this system could get messy quick, which, let’s be real, just makes sense for barça-centric fic.

Star Trek

How Many Roads? or, 27 Times Jim Kirk hit on Nyota Uhura by Deastar (8806 words, Uhura/Spock) - After the bar fight, Nyota thinks to herself that if this is what being hit on by Jim Kirk leads to, she’s very glad she’s never going to have to see him again.

Uhura and Kirk’s relationship goes from the dumpster fire it was in Iowa to the professional respect we get throughout the movies, but we never really see how it happens. this fic shows all of that and much more, and oh my god, I just like these characters so much.

Counteractive Measures by rikke_leonhart (9159 words, loosely Kirk/Spock) - The thing is – giving Jim Kirk a dare will never ever work. “Enlist,” she repeats to herself as Pike’s back disappears out the door. She snorts. It’s one of those things that just keep getting funnier.

Jim Kirk’s whole life - if Jim Kirk were a girl, and slightly less cliche about her motivations and psychology. and if Spock and especially McCoy were just as awesome as ever, because of course they are!

Star Wars

The Last Poem of Jedha by @schweinsty (15486 words, gen) - How Bodhi Rook temporarily misplaced the two most important things in the galaxy, and how he found them again (with a little help).

literally every fic on this list is amazing, I promise, but this one is my favorite out of them all. if you’ve ever cared about star wars for five seconds, please read this. the world-building, the characterizations, the plot structure, the family and team relationships: all stellar!

Supernatural

In His Image by @whitmerule (153067 words, Gabriel/Sam and Castiel/Dean) - Kali can breathe life back into a corpse, but what exactly is Gabriel now? Gabriel flits around various centuries trying to work that out, Dean has another powered-down angel and a little brother to look out for, Castiel has forgotten how to trust, and someone keeps sending Sam annoying little notes on his laptop. Oh, and Bobby would like to remind you all that there’s an Apocalypse still going on. Covers season 5 from Gabriel’s death to the finale.

half season 5 AU, half historical fiction, it feels like one story thread should distract from the other but instead it all works together to make the definitive Gabriel-centric story!

Sammyverse by shangrilada (249230 words, 42 works, gen) - It’s an AU, but not a deep one, until season 4 or thereabouts, where it starts to get kind of weird. Basically, Sam has really hideous asthma, and the boys are both pretty excellent at dealing with it and each other. They’re [not] all from Dean’s POV, and even though I’m branching now into later stuff, I’m going to keep doing pre-Stanford–Season 2 for a long time because that makes me happy. Honestly it’s a lot of H/C porn of the boys just being friendly and affectionate towards each other, because that’s how I like them. It is, to put it simply, gen. To put it more honestly, it’s as fucked up as I see it in canon and not a bit more or less. You can read into it as much or as little as you like.

it’s just like the show, except Sam is chronically ill and also the boys like each other. based on the show you might think the boys already like each other, but my friends, this ‘verse will show you just how much was missing. Dean’s internal monologues are things of beauty, and I love how much Jess is featured in the Stanford-era fics. (note: this master list includes most but not all of the fic in the verse, so if you’d like the rest be sure to check the author’s page or ask me for links!)

True Blood

We Who Are Alive And Remain by @branwyn-says (10448 words, Sookie/Eric) - Terrified by changes she witnesses in herself, Sookie hides from the world and everyone in it. When Eric finds out her secret, she will either find that he is worthy of her trust-or she’ll be dead.

the non-linear timeline makes this fic shine, and from the very beginning the plot is intriguing. before the plot is resolved we get to see a lot about who Sookie is who Eric is to her, and the dynamics between Sookie and nearly everyone in her life.

The West Wing

We Don’t Notice Time Pass by pene (1304 words, gen) -  “I’d no idea you’d even met her.” It’s friendship and it’s women.

focusing on female friendship within The West Wing is annoyingly difficult, but this story focuses on what relationships among women can be. Mrs. Landingham acts as a bit of a mentor to Ainsley, and Ainsley’s relationship with her childhood best friend is achingly and heartwarmingly true to life.

Define Your Terms by candle_beck (4443 words, Josh/Sam) -  It’s very complicated inside Josh’s head.

Josh is manic and about five conversations ahead of Sam. it works out because these two idiots care about each other very, very strongly. I love Josh’s mental voice in this one!

Vidui by Marguerite (7358 words, gen) - In the fall of 2001, Toby went to shul. In past years he had carried sins enough to confess, sins both petty and great, transgressions against God’s ordinances and those of men.

a beautiful meditation on Toby’s relationship with the people he works with/calls his family, through an explicitly Jewish lense. Toby is the person, and the Jew, that I wish I could be <3</p>

The Thinner the Skin by Jane St Clair (2149 words, Josh/Sam) - Of couches and expensive suits, with some mention of madness.

if you’re going to write a Josh/Sam post-Noel fic, this is unquestionably the way to do it! nothing is shied away from but there’s all the best kind of comfort that h/c can offer, and nice backstory details that make the characters seem realer.

highways and byways and roads in between by @greatestheights​ (10456 words, Josh/Donna) - “Maps are for losers. Maps are for people with no sense of adventure, like you, and…I don’t know. Toby, probably.” Josh, Donna, the open road, five states, and some of the things they said while they were driving.

Josh and Donna and, just, everything that they are (that is, a well-meaning idiot and better than you, respectively), with a healthy dose of Donna/career. everyone is characterized spotlessly, the dialogue is episode-caliber, and there’s fun local geography/culture!