#(we used to get in awful nasty fights as teenagers but it’s fine now and I love her and don’t hold that against her)

[tchaikovskaya]

Lol

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

[thegayhimbo]

Bill Compton’s problematic relationship with Jessica Hamby.....

This is a post I’ve wanted to do for a long time because out of all the relationships on the show (aside from Sookie/Bill), this is one of the few that bothers me the most. It’s a relationship held up by fans to be this loving father-daughter dynamic. However, when I first saw the show, I was left cold by it, and never understood why people thought it was a meaningful relationship.

Having just finished my rewatch, I can understand why I felt like that: There are MULTIPLE MOMENTS on the show where Bill’s treatment of Jessica is neglectful at best and abusive at worst. Most of the time, Bill either treats Jessica as a burden or someone he can use, and he barely knows what’s going in her life unless Jessica brings it up to him. That’s also including that he’s lied to her, betrayed her, hurt her, refused to do his duty to her as a maker to her unless forced to (or unless he got some benefit out of it), kept secrets from her, and was NASTY to her at various moments during the show. It got to a point where I kept wondering if I was watching the same show as everyone else. It’s especially egregious since plenty of people talking about how this was one of the best relationships on the show (which it isn’t).

In this list, I’m going through all the instances where Bill’s treatment of Jessica ranges from neglectful to abusive. All of them span over the course of 7 seasons, so POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD! The reason I am doing this is to highlight the issues with this relationship, and why I think it’s problematic that the show (and fans) treat this as a good relationship when it’s anything but. Without further ado:

1.) After Jessica gets turned into a vampire, Bill makes a half-assed attempt to get her to drink True Blood instead of teaching her how to feed properly and safely from a human. When this doesn’t work, he dumps Jessica with Eric.

2.) Bill proceeds to leave Jessica with Eric for two weeks (and makes not attempt to ever pick her up) until Eric comes back with Jessica and tells Bill to start doing his job as a maker. One has to question if Bill would have ever picked Jessica up from Fangtasia if Eric hadn't come.

3.) From the end of season 1 till season 3, Bill consistently treated Jessica like she was a burden and an embarrassment to him, even though Jessica was a teenager who needed help and support and wasn’t familiar with being a vampire.

4.) Bill wastes Jessica's time teaching her how to recycle when he should have taught her how to feed from a human. He knows that she can't live off of True Blood, and that she's going to have to learn to feed safely so she isn't a danger to others. He fails to do this for her.

5.) At one point, Bill slut-shames Jessica for her attire, and it's played for laughs instead of Bill being called out for his misogynistic behavior.

6.) When Jessica is kissing Hoyt, Bill grabs Jessica and violently throws her across the room even though she wasn't feeding from Hoyt. There is no reason that, as her maker, he couldn't have ordered her to stop, or just restrained her without using physical violence.

7.) Bill keeps secrets from Jessica (like his mission from Queen Sophie Anne) that puts her in danger. He never establishes a contingency plan with her if she came into contact with a powerful vampire and either needed to defend herself, get away from them, or hide from them. The result is Franklin Mott (a serial rapist) shows up at her front door and her life is almost put in danger because of it.

8.) Jessica is forced to get her first job on her own to make money instead of getting any help from Bill.

9.) Bill was set to release Jessica in season 3 despite being a newborn and barely having an idea on how to feed from someone safely. She also had no training to protect herself from other vampires or humans who wanted to harm her. This is basically the equivalent of a parent throwing their kid out of the house. It’s not okay that Jessica has to BEG Bill to be a proper maker to her because he was doing a shit job at it.

10.) Bill drags Jessica into a dangerous situation against werewolves and a 3000 year old vampire who almost succeeds in killing her. Bill knew she wasn’t ready after only one training session, and Jessica’s life was endangered because of his carelessness.

11.) After the fight at Sookie’s house, the last we see of Jessica is her being chased away by a werewolf. Not only does Bill NOT bother to check to see if Jessica is okay afterwards, he proceeds to have gross unappealing sex with Sookie in the middle of her destroyed house. It’s all about him and what he wants in that moment, and it’s like he completely forgets Jessica.

12.) Bill doesn’t ever tell Jessica the real reasons for why Sookie broke up with him (i.e. that he allowed the Rattarays to beat the shit out of her) and lets Jessica believe that Sookie was at fault for the break-up and that she was a bad girlfriend to him.

13.) Bill tells Jessica that she’s required to be honest with Hoyt even though he isn’t honest with her.

14.) When Antonia breaks free from Bill’s prison and plans to cast a spell that will force vampires to walk into the sun, instead of sending Jessica out of Louisiana to keep her safe so that she wouldn’t be targeted by Antonia’s spell, Bill keeps her with him for some unexplained reason.

15.) Bill refuses to completely silver Jessica when Antonia is about to cast her spell. This results in Jessica breaking free, killing a guard, and almost walking into the sun before Jason saves her. His neglect in that moment almost got Jessica killed AGAIN.

16.) Even after Jessica almost gets killed, Bill STILL DOESN’T SEND HER AWAY despite the fact there’s a dangerous necromancer on the loose who could target her and possess her. He even drags Jessica to Moon Goddess Emporium against Antonia/Marnie, and puts her in danger because of his recklessness. Jessica almost gets killed because of this, but the show never calls out Bill for it.

17.) When Bill and Eric are forced to go on the run from the Authority after killing Nan Flanagan, Bill calls Jessica and lies to her about everything being fine and not to worry. He doesn't warn her that the Authority is coming after them. This is actually dangerous for Jessica because if the Authority had failed to capture Bill and Eric before they left the house, they might have gone after Jessica to capture, torture, and interrogate her on Bill's whereabouts. And even though that doesn't happen, the point is that it could have happened because Bill refused to warn her.

18.) When Bill comes back to see Jessica later in season 5, he lies to her about still being King (which doesn't bode well for Jessica if other vampires try to take advantage of her), he doesn't really bother to check on Jessica to see if she's doing okay and just assumes she is, and he isn't truthful with her about what's really going on: That there's a good chance he and Eric may get killed either bringing in Russell Edgington, or that the Authority may still have them executed for treason. Either way, he withholds this information from her instead of having Jessica prepare for the worst.

19.) When Bill becomes Chancellor in the Authority and joins up with the Sanguinistas, he sends the Authority guards to forcibly escort Jessica to HQ (while also commanding Jessica as her maker to go with them) and tries to force Jessica to convert to the Sanguinista ideology whether she likes it or not. Jessica even pointing out this is exactly how her biological family behaved towards her. He also tries to keep her locked up and isolated to convert her.

20.) When Jessica begs Bill to let her warn Jason and Sookie about Russell and Steve coming after them, Bill refuses to let her go warn them, and makes it clear that he doesn't care if they get captured, tortured, or killed because he just sees them as food at this point. It doesn’t matter to Bill that Jason and Sookie are her friends and are in danger.

21.) In an act of petty cruelty, Bill bullies Jessica into turning Jason into a vampire against his will by sending two Authority guards to make sure she goes through with this.

22.) When Jessica returns after refusing to turn Jason, and later stands up to Bill, he gets physically violent and SMACKS HER clear across the room before having her imprisoned. What makes this worse is that there is no moment later on where he apologizes to Jessica for being abusive towards her. It's glossed over by the show.

23.) Bill leaves Jessica to die at the Authority, and it’s only when he realizes she’s alive that he summons her in the most painful way possible (i.e. she’s puking up blood and feels like she’s going to die if she doesn’t answer Bill’s summons). He later indicates he knows this was hurting Jessica and doesn’t care.

24.) He deflects any responsibility for hitting Jessica and imprisoning her by claiming he’s not the same person that did that. Again, there is no moment on the show where he apologizes to her for his behavior.

25.) Once he manipulates Jessica into staying with him again, Bill/Billith makes Jessica responsible for his emotional well being and his “humanity.” In other words, he knows he’s going to be doing awful things in the future, and instead of owning up to that, he’s making Jessica responsible for being a good person. That is abusive.

26.) He later tasks Jessica with dressing up in a sexually provocative way to kidnap a professor against his will. Putting aside how he previously slut-shamed her for having revealing clothing, it’s pretty gross that he’s now having Jessica participate in his crimes.

27.) He has Jessica lure Andy’s faerie girls to his mansion l(ike one of those creepy Unsubs from Criminal Minds) and tasks Jessica with keeping an eye on them. He makes no attempts to ensure the faerie girls safety, especially since Jessica has a history of poor impulse control. Not even an “As your maker, I command you not to feed on these faerie girls.” And then he leaves her alone with them. Shock of all shockers, Jessica loses control and 3 out of 4 of the faerie girls are dead.

28.) When Jessica is high on faerie blood and consumed with guilt over killing the faerie girls, Bill coldly tells her to sleep it off. He makes no attempt to comfort her or make sure she doesn’t do something stupid (since she’s drunk on faerie blood and not in a rational state of mind), nor does he make any attempt to give his blood to the other faerie girls in a possible attempt to revive them. He doesn’t care. He just found out about Warlow, which means Jessica’s guilt and the deaths of the faerie girls mean nothing to him. The result is that Jessica runs off to Jason’s for comfort, and gets captured by the LAVTF and sent to Vamp Camp. All because of Bill’s neglect.

29.) At the end of season 6, Bill goes off to do a 6-month book tour while he leaves Jessica behind to deal with the guilt of killing Andy’s faerie kids. There is no moment where he expresses remorse for his role in their deaths, nor does he make any attempt to help Jessica heal over the trauma and guilt of what happened.

30.) In season 7, when Bill finds out that Jessica hasn’t been feeding because she still feels guilty over what happened, and that she’s also offering protection to Adylin, this is what he says to her:

“So you are protecting Adilyn? And she is not feeding you in exchange for that protection?”

Not only is Bill completely unaware of Jessica’s mental and emotional state right now (because he’s that neglectful of her), but he lacks self-awareness about WHY Jessica doesn’t want to feed from Adylin: She’s the one that lost control and drained Adylin’s sisters. This idea that Bill perpetrates that Jessica’s relationship with Adylin should be a transaction where she only protects her in exchange for something is so revealing about what kind of person Bill Compton is: Every relationship is a pragmatic transaction for him. Bill only cares about other people when it is convenient for him. And he couldn’t bother to help Jessica when she was struggling with remorse over her actions whereas he felt no guilt over what he did.

What. An. Asshole.

31.) At the end of season 7, Bill opts to kill himself without caring about how this going to affect Jessica emotionally. Keep in mind that in season 4, Jessica had Bill promise not to ever commit suicide again (after he supposedly tried to do so when Marnie ordered him and Eric to kill each other). And once again, Bill breaks that promise because it’s all about him and what he wants. What makes this even more repugnant is he frames this as a good thing for both him and Jessica.

32.) In his final act of being an asshole, Bill pressures Jessica into getting married to Hoyt even though he doesn’t have his memories and they still haven’t worked through the issues that caused their relationship to fall apart in the first place. When Jessica expresses concern about this (since this is all happening too fast), Bill uses the death of his biological daughter (i.e. the same one he refused to save in that season 5 flashback) to guilt-trip Jessica into doing this marriage so that she’ll be “spoken for.” He’s basically shoving his patriarchal (and misogynistic) beliefs onto Jessica.

There are probably other moments that I missed, but the overall gist I’ve gotten from this relationship is that it’s one-sided, and that Bill’s treatment of Jessica is not only awful, it’s emotionally (and in some cases, physically) abusive. There’s this fanon idea that’s gone around for many years that Bill was this wonderful maker and father-figure to Jessica, which is NOT supported by what’s shown.

What makes this problematic is that the show tried to frame this like it’s a relationship we’re suppose to root for. Personally, I’m left cold by it. I can think of many other platonic relationships on this show (Andy/Terry, Sookie/Jason, Tara/Lafayette, etc) that were either better written, more heartwearming, or had meaningful character development that lasted. Bill/Jessica was not one of those. It’s bad enough that Bill’s an awful character who continues to age like spoiled milk, but this relationship he has with Jessica.........................it makes my skin crawl.

Jessica deserved so much better than Bill. She deserved a maker who actually put effort into their relationship with her (and not when it was convenient for them), and Bill deserved to be called out for his treatment of Jessica during the show. I HATE this relationship, and it’s one more reason why Bill Compton is one of the WORST characters I have ever seen on a TV show.

[scaryscarecrows]

Child Safety 101

AN: Continuation of ‘I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks’, found in Why Do They Kick Me?

Note: Mark is a trauma surgeon, not a GP, but he’s also the only one Jason will let within doctoring range, so.

* * *

The Knight has been down and unresponsive for literal days. The first day was the diciest, because even Mark hadn’t been totally sure if he’d pull through, but his fever had gone down enough to remove him from the danger zone.

Once it had become apparent that he wasn’t going to die on them-because Antoine’s sorry, but no way is he continuing this crusade in the guy’s memory or whatever, if the boss dies, he is leaving-, they’d had a meeting and, essentially, made a chore chart for who had Knightwatch, who had Armywatch, and who got to nap.

It’s a fairly efficient rotation. And so far, at least, they’ve managed to keep the news of, well, everything under wraps. All the men know is that the boss is down but that he will be fine, carry on as normal. They don’t know that the helmet’s off.

And. Oof. Of all the crackpot theories they’ve jokingly tossed around, this wasn’t one of them. Antoine’s not sure which one he’s more stuck on: the fact that the boss is a teenager, or the fact that the boss is-was-Robin. They’re so intertwined that it doesn’t really matter, it’s just…

Antoine is not a parent. He’s happy to keep it that way; the best part of uncle-ing is dosing them up on sugar and releasing them back to the parents. So he doesn’t really get the whole ‘electrical outlets are a Great Danger’ thing. But he does get, maybe a little better than your average parent, the sick, twisted fucks of society. He’s worked with a handful. Spoken with more. He still remembers, years after the fact, that one guy...he ate people. Literally. He’d put a toddler in the oven-alive-and…

Yeah.

But this is a little different. This is...it’s one thing to hear about it. It’s another thing to be faced with it. And it’s another thing entirely to see it. That fucking tape, man…

He stretches out a bit, pops his back and rubs a hand over his side, feeling rough scar tissue. What a week. What an absolute hell of a week.

He’s on Knightwatch now, because everything outside is moving smoothly without him and Frank really, really needs the nap. The boss is finally sleeping peacefully, curled up on his side with one arm flung up to shield his face. He’s still shivering on and off, and he sounds congested as all get out, but the worst of it is over. No more screaming, no more pleading.

What now? He supposes they’ll stay the course, but he’s not sure, not really. Maybe this is the end. Maybe the boss will vanish in the middle of the night.

Jesus, that explains so much. Batman taught him all this weird shit. Batman...this is, arguably, entirely Batman’s fault. What sort of weirdo...never mind. Never mind.

As ever, he figures, this is a nasty combination of neglectful adult and opportunistic predator. This is the same thing as that one girl in his sister’s apartment complex that got kidnapped. Six years old, mother said, ‘yes, yes, go play by the road alone!’ and she got abducted and murdered. Somebody should have been watching her.

Somebody should have been watching the boss.

Doesn’t matter. People are watching him now, at least, whether he likes it or not.

He coughs and rolls over, one arm slipping off the bed. Antoine sighs and puts it back, straightens the sheets out like he’s seen Frank and his sister do, and wonders what’s going to happen now.

They could, he supposes, figure out who he-and by extension, Batman-is. Jimmy could run a facial recognition at the minimum. But they haven’t, and they don’t really intend to. Curious as they are, they owe him their lives and...and no matter how this turns out, he’s their boss and they won’t.

Antoine’s sort of lost in thought, caught up in memories of that little girl (what was her name?) and the cannibal and the utter confusion of everything, when the Knight suddenly jerks upright like he’s gonna make a break for it.

“Shit--”

He twists over and only feels a little sorry for forcing the Knight back down. The sorry feeling vanishes when the boss tries to fight him.

“No--”

“You gotta be kidding me--” It’s not much of a fight, but he’s still trying, which is incredibly unfair. “How even--there.”

Okay. There’s no easy weapons in here, which is all he can ask for. He’s not interested in being held at gunpoint again, thanks.

“You back with us, sir?”

The Knight’s quiet, breathing hard and seemingly very interested in the ceiling.

“We have an intruder,” he says, voice carefully flat. “I want every available unit search--”

Uh-huh.

“You wouldn’t have held this intruder at gunpoint, would you, sir?”

Silence. That’s what he thought. They’re professionals, for heaven’s sake. People don’t just get into their super-secret hidden base. That just doesn’t happen. Their own people have gotten lost trying to find their way back to it! Intruder, humph. That hurts.

…

Yeah, okay, he’s trying to maintain the facade of normalcy. Like. The helmet’s off, man, any weird-ass theories anybody’s had have now been put to rest in favor of the truth. But both of them are probably going to be happier if they just pretend that nothing has changed.

(Which is half-true. Baby Robin or not, the guy’s still scary.)

“What day is it,” he finally says, voice scarcely above a whisper. Antoine hits the call button.

“March third, sir.”

“Shit.”

Yup.

There’s no good response to that and the boss goes slack, one arm flung over his face. A minute later, Mark throws open the door with a grumpy, “What the fuck was that.”

“I--”

“Went the fuck down in the middle of the day thanks to a one-oh-four degree fever,” Mark seethes. “You have. The goddamn. Flu. People die from the flu, straight-up die, and you didn’t think to mention it! I’m not asking for much here. Just a little heads up. Y’know, ‘hey, Jones, I’m feelin’ pretty crappy, think you can poke your head in to make sure I didn’t die in the night?’ ‘Oh, sure thing, boss, happy to help, feel better!’” The smile he plasters on is frightening. The boss doesn’t like it, not one bit, and to Mark’s credit, he drops it pretty quick. “What were you thinking? Anything? Really, I’d love your thought process.”

“‘ve handled worse on my own,” the Knight mumbles, somewhere between sheepish and stubborn. “Thought a walk would clear my head.”

Sad thing is, Antoine believes him. The brand alone is not pretty, and while Mark hasn’t said much, what he has shared is disturbing.

And. Well. It’s not like the boss has been totally silent for the past few days. Once or twice he’d woken up screaming, the kind of awful sound Antoine associates with three-feet-thick walls and Professionals. Hell, Mark had collared Trent to come and look at something, and while neither of them are sharing, that’s Bad. Trent’s not a doctor, but he knows how to hurt people...and what they look like after.

“Well, it made you worse. You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone or yourself, parading around like that. Aight, you sit up, you clear out.”

Gladly.

“Feel better, sir,” he says. “We’ve got things handled out here, so just get some rest.”

“Oh, he doesn’t have a choice. Come on, up-up...be lucky if I let you out of my sight again after this...f’I have to give you weekly check-ups, that’s what’ll happen…”

Fuck Batman, Antoine thinks tiredly. This is his fault, things never should have advanced to the point that his...sidekick...kid...whatever ended up like this. How is Gotham not screaming about kids and guns anyway, huh? That just seems like Child Safety 101. He certainly makes sure all his toys are locked up tight when the niblings are over. He sure as hell wouldn’t give them a dull knife and tell them to, like, fight a trained mercenary. That seems like a terrible idea.

Whatever. It’s not going to go any farther. Boss he might be, but he’s just not going to be allowed to be an idiot, that’s all there is to it. No more vanishing off somewhere for three days, he’ll just have to check in or something. Frank can bully him about that. It’s for his own damn good.

THE END

[sunset-telepath]

Why I hate Ro

So, I was asked to explain why I hate Ro. And I’ve been compilating several arguments that I’ve heard and written myself. And I’d like to put a disclaimer here - it’s not because she’s this “sokeefe idol.” It’ just... her character and what she does in support of sokeefe.

Disclaimer: I’m condensing several conversations that I, JaxTheShade, and [Redacted due to them not wanting to be credited] had on the wiki about a month ago. Around 40% of these ideas are mine, 40% are Jax’s, and 20% are [Redacted]’s.

Right off the bat, she’s a misandrist. She quite literally calls boys as stupid as amoeba in Legacy. You can say that that was a joke, but it’s not funny. It’s not okay to blatantly call anyone or generalize any group stupid. It’s not ok. It’s the exact same thing as saying that women belong in the kitchen or that blacks are criminals. It’s not ok. It’s disgusting, despicable, and repugnant behavior.

In the Flashback Short Story, she objectifies Sophie as a prize for Fitz and Keefe to fight over. What the actual f***. That is not acceptable behavior under any circumstances. It’s repugnant, disgusting, detestable, and f****** evil. Treating any person as a prize to fight over is textbook objectification and it is blatantly evil. It is not ok. And it’s disgusting that this narrative has leaked into some of the fanfics that I’ve read. THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. IT IS NOT EXCUSABLE. IT IS EVIL.

She flat out bullies Fitz. She alludes to him being a nasty microbe in Legacy. She ridicules his desire to perfect himself. There is nothing wrong with being or trying to be perfect. Don’t push yourself too hard trying to be perfect, but if you should always strive to be better (and if you’re naturally talented like Fitz is, achieve your dreams. Fulfill your potential. Ignore the haters). She mocks and bullies him, calling him names and ridiculing his desire to be perfect. Newsflash: There’s nothing wrong with trying to be perfect. Who the hell is Ro to decide how perfect someone can be? Who the hell does Ro think she is? As a perfectionist myself, I despise Ro and her adversity to perfection. It’s not her place to decide how perfect a person can be. I admire Fitz simply shrugging her off and not letting her flat-out abuse get to him. It’s the proper way to deal with people like her.

Her entire character can be summed up as a chronic-complainer who ships Sokeefe. Shannon basically turned the Instagram Fandom into a character and made it Keefe’s Bodyguard. She never confesses to making mistakes and she’s never humbled or knocked down a peg. 30% of her dialogue can be attributed to complaining about sparkles or “elf-land,” 20% of it can be attributed to her flat-out bulling Fitz, and 50% of it can be attributed to her pushing Sophie and Keefe together. None of the characters like her. The other bodyguards detest her, Bo wants to kill her, Fitz thinks that she’s awful, Sophie is embarrassed by her, and Keefe wants her to shut her mouth.

She’s blunt, she’s rude, and she’s just awful. She interferes with a relationship that is none of her business. She has no regard for the emotional abuse that she inflicts. Ro and Keefe are very similar, and clash often. Ro always wins, however, either because she’s stronger than him or because she can emotionally manipulate him. (These sound like big claims now, but they’re backed up later)

Ro dismisses Sophie by saying that “blondie doesn’t know what she feels.” And it’s disgusting. She’s objectified by “blondie” - a term focused on Sophie’s appearance rather than by her personality. She’s Sophie Elizabeth Foster, not “blondie.” She dismisses Sophie as naïve and disregards her feelings by saying that Sophie’s doesn’t know what Sophie feels.

~The Following Section was directly quoted from JaxTheShade because he summarized it so well~

Well...no, Ro. She does have an idea of what she feels. In fact, she was ecstatic and perfectly fine with dating and eventually sorting out her issues with Fitz until you started "hinting" about Keefe. Sophie does understand her feelings - and those feelings led her to Fitz. And even if she does have some underlying issue about who she likes (which has admittedly been hinted at), it's up to her to figure it out. Not a brash ogre bodyguard who scoffs at the notion of the Elvin culture and thinks she has a right to intrude in a teenage relationship she isn't apart of.

And Fitz...well, I'm sure Ro doesn't hate him. But she's pretty close to--that's not hard to deduce. Because Ro has ever bothered to pay attention to and sympathize with Keefe ( and yet she still finds a way to neglect his feelings ), she hasn't the slightest inclination of who Fitz is. So, like most people, she decides to consider him "the opposing candidate" in the love triangle and never look past the surface of Fitz, just calling him "Captain Perfect" and thinking that he could never be right for Sophie because he's competing against Keefe. 

Sometimes I wish someone, anyone, would call Ro out for amount of sheer insults she layers on Fitz, whether he's there or not. Although most of the time it's done behind his back--what a surprise. 

I mean, look at this:

She slyly calls him a 'nasty microbe'. And while some have argued that she wasn't calling Fitz this, she was very clearly expressing her disdain for Sophie's favourite colour being teal--and, by proxy, calls teal things 'nasty'. 

“[...] But I thought it was only right to save your imp from being sparkle-fied—and I was going to be nice and turn him your favorite color. But apparently your favorite color is teal—and yeah, yeah, we all know why. But, um, do you realize how many of the nastiest little microbes are that color?” She shuddered. “I couldn’t do that to you—or the little dude. [...]”

Ro also calls him "Captain Perfectpants" and openly admits that Fitz would have problems with all the time Sophie is spending with Keefe. Essentially admitted but disregarding how upset Fitz would be--because who cares about Fitz's feelings when Keefe is having emotional turmoil? And as a little bonus, she also pulls her classic, "I can't take this anymore! I simply have to intervene in this situation of which I'm not apart of!

"Ro snorted. “Of course he would! He’d be super, super jealous!”

“Don’t,” Keefe told her.

“No—I can’t take it anymore!” Ro stalked toward Sophie and tapped her on the nose with a calloused fingertip. “I repeat: Yes, your Captain Perfectpants would be jealous! He scraped together the courage to get all share-y about his feelings, and now you’re ignoring him, and being all mysterious about why, and telling everyone who asks that you’re not dating him. And I’m not saying that’s a bad call. Trust your instincts! Hopefully they’ll lead you out of the oblivion. But in the meantime, count on your teal-eyed Wonderboy feeling a little insecure, particularly if he finds out you’re spending lots of quality time with other dudes. And you know what? That’s good for him. We all know that boy could use a little help in the humility department. So make him sweat a little. And you”—she spun back toward Keefe—“need to stop being so afraid.”

And those are just two instances, of which I can search for plenty more. 

Ro is not a good person. She's a rebellious princess who ultimately works for her own gain. She thinks she's got it all figured out with Keefe, and decides that, since he shared his story of liking Sophie, she'll take it upon herself to get them together no matter what. 

And I mean 'no matter what'. She has put down Sophie for liking Fitz, interrupted conversations so she can drop hints about Keefe's feelings against his will, and made fun of Sophie for being oblivious--even going to the extent of getting fed up with and blaming Sophie for her oblivion "becoming less and less cute".

She's also tried to actively break up Sophitz and push together Sophie and Keefe. She's insulted Fitz and holds a very hostile disposition towards him simply because he's "perfect boy" who's against the Saint Also Known As Keefe. Ro tries to subtly force Sophie's feelings for Fitz out of her while dropping in some "isn't Hunkyhair so great?". I wouldn't for a second put it past her to succeed in shutting down as many Sophitz moments as possible all so she can continue to ignore the pleas to stop and the embarrassed faces surrounding her. 

And her excuse?

"It's the only fun she gets to have here in Elf Land".

She isn't apart of this relationship. She isn't affected by this relationship. She's only seen one side of this relationship, and uses that to base her opinions of the other two. Which is a terrible idea considering that leads to opinions like "Okay, well that other boy is awful because he's the competitor, and that girl must like the boy because the boy likes her, and sometimes she acts shy around him, and that's totally how relationships work".

Ro has absolutely no excuse for the amount of hurt she's inflicted on all three of these teenagers.

And yet she's regarded as a saint amongst all, while people like...say, Alden ( who made mistakes, but ultimately went about it in a calmer, gentler, and more well meaning way--as well as having much more justification and reasoning behind his actions ) are seen as evil and deserving of death. So what's the difference? Is it just because Ro is all for Sokeefe and Alden is really pushing for Sophitz? Have we really sunk low enough to the point where we can adore one character and hate another--despite performing the same actions--simply because of shipping preferences?

Everyone has decided to hate Alden because he showed up to speak with Keefe, ended up getting sidetracked and talking about relationships ( because of Ro, go figure ), sympathized with Keefe and shared meaningful advice from personal identical experiences, and then making sure Keefe knew that he considered him apart of the family.

That was what Alden did. And we have absolutely no reason to believe that Alden was anything but genuine when he stated that he "long considered him part of the family".

And yet Ro is the one who starts ranting about how "he didn't mean it" ( and saying something like that to a teenage boy who never felt loved by his father means a lot--but Ro has to ruin it and say that Alden's words were "a stinking load of garbage" ). Ro is the one whose objectification of the triangle by saying that Keefe being there for his friends is "sabotage" is what sparks Keefe to tell her that Sophie's feelings do matter. Ro is the one who interrupts every conversation by either stating her obnoxious opinion that nobody asked for, or calling a time out so she can bash on Fitz again. Ro is the one who has spent every waking moment since she arrived in the series either making Keefe's desire to be happy for his friends feel invalid, insulting Sophie because she's her own person with her own feelings for someone else, and coming up with every insult under the sun to throw at Fitz. Ro is the one who has no justification for her actions, seeing as she a) is not apart of this triangle, and b) has minimal relationship experience considering both her boyfriends hate her, and one was an arranged marriage.

But...Ro is also the loved and appreciated one.” - JaxTheShade (I’ve been paraphrasing some of the things that he’s said all ready, but I’m directly quoting him for this. His statement is direct and gets to the point)

~End of direct Quote~

I'd like to make one thing clear though - the point of selfishness. There's a stigma to the word that I'd like to clear up, because there are two types of selfishness, rational self-interest, and sacrificing others for yourself.

Fitz is the first type - he has a rational self-interest, he's looking out for himself and his own long-term happiness first. There is nothing wrong with that, if you won't look out for yourself, who will? It's why I completely supported Fitz yelling and breaking up with Sophie - if a relationship is making you unhappy long-term, it is in your best interest to break up with them. It's why Fitz was so adamant about finding Sophie's biological parents, he wanted to avoid future stigma, gossiping, and heckling. Fitz knows how horrible these things are to experience, and so sought to avoid them in the future. This is why Fitz is my favorite character - the others are reactive, Fitz seems to be the only proactive one. (One of the few characters in any literature to be proactive, in fact). While Sophie and the others look at the now and the immediate future, Fitz is concerned with the long-term future, a trait I share with him and one that I rarely see in literature whatsoever, to my vast disappointment.

Ro isn't selfish at all. She's much, much worse - she doesn't meddle in other's affairs for her own happiness, she just does because she can. She has no respect for other's privacy, and throws out insults towards Fitz and Sophie because she just does. She has no motive, impetus, or drive, she just does, and it sickens me.

The second type of selfishness is similar to a bully bullying others because they're miserable and it makes them feel good about themselves. It's horrible and malicious, and I'm not condoning it in any way, but its far more innocent (if bullying can be called innocent) then what Ro does.

Ro is malevolent, she doesn't do it because it makes her feel good, she just does it, with no regard with the relationships and lives she destroys in the process. She's a toxic radioactive waste dump of a person. A toxic waste dump doesn't make people sick and die for their own gain - it just does. That's how Ro is as a person.

Another reason is that she has no regard for what she says or does. She constantly tears Fitz down just because she can (I want Alden to be there next time she tries that. I want Alden to step in and tell her that what she is doing is not okay, because no other character has recognized this so far). I want Alden to be there next time she calls his son a nasty little microbe. I'd like to finally see Ro get some comeuppance for her terrible behavior.

Let's be honest with ourselves - Ro hates Fitz. She hates and complains and whines about how perfect he is. Since when has perfection been a crime? Since when is it up to her to decide the maximum amount of talent a person can have? As a perfectionist myself, I strive for perfection just as Fitz does. There is nothing wrong with striving to perfect yourself - there is if you are actively hurting yourself, but if you're naturally gifted like Fitz is, and you want to be the best you can possibly be, go ahead! Make the most of your innate talent and use it to seek your happiest future. Build & write your own happy ending.

She isn't a part of this relationship. She isn't affected by this relationship. She's actively impeding their ability to seek their own happiness, and not even for her own happiness (which is still horrid), she just does because she's "bored". Her repugnant behavior sickens me.

Ro is a textbook abuser. Let's go over a list of things an abuser does, and see to which characters she applies them to:

Name-Calling: The abuser will blatantly call the abused derogatory adjectives, like stupid or oblivious

We know she does this to Sophie, calling her oblivious. She also twists being perfect into a derogatory adjective, throwing it at Fitz. She also called Fitz a horrible little microbe, along with calling him & Keefe as stupid as amoeba.

Character Assassination: The abuser will use the word "always". You're always oblivious, stupid, late, wrong, etc.

She does this to Sophie, and also somewhat Fitz.

Patronizing: The abuser will be patronizing towards the abused

She does this to Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe.

Belittling: The abuser will belittle the abused

I'm pretty sure she does this to Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe.

Pushing Buttons: Once the abuser finds out what annoys the abused, they will do it nonstop.

Oh boy, does she do this to Keefe and Sophie. (Fitz just gets out of his way to ignore her and avoid her. It's why she's irritated by him, he hasn't opened himself to her and doesn't show flaws allowing her to find ways to sink her nasty manipulating fingers into him)

These are only a few signs of someone being an abuser, and yet Ro manages to hit pretty much all of them.

She gaslights Keefe into believing that Alden is only looking out for himself and his children - something we know to be completely wrong. She's driving a wedge between Keefe and Alden, one of the few other people Keefe respects and thinks looks out for him. The only other parental individual in Keefe's life, in fact, giving Ro total access to Keefe's psyche and making herself the only "true" source of information Keefe can trust. She is a horrible, horrible abuser.

Ro doesn't have benign intentions at heart. She doesn't even have selfish intentions at heart. She just meddles just because she can.

Ro isn’t selfish. She’s just a bad person - for a lack of a better term that would describe her repulsive behavior.

She constantly complains about the elves. Yes, elven culture is a little weird, but you don’t have to complain about it constantly and in-front of the elves.

Ro is also clearly not afraid to gaslight. She forces Keefe to believe that her opinions are the only valid ones. How does she do this? She says that "Blondie doesn't know what she feels," making Keefe think that any emotions he picks up from her are wrong. She says that Fitz is just "Captain Perfect" who doesn't really care about Sophie - that Keefe "deserves" her. She says that Alden's advice is just made up, and that he doesn't really care about him. She’s established herself as the only source of information that Keefe can trust. She’s removed Alden (the one other parental figure Keefe had) and established herself as the only person Keefe can trust. And that is very dangerous and highly abusive.

She even invalidates Keefe's emotions. Every time Keefe stands up to her and says something like "I'm just being a good friend," Ro responds (like any of this is her business) with something snarky. Or, she tells him to "stop being so afraid." And that forces Keefe to believe that his desire to help his friends isn't valid enough. That he isn't valid enough. So he comes crawling back to Ro.

She’s a terrible bodyguard. She threatens to not protect Keefe in Legacy if Sophie doesn’t share her secret with her. THAT IS NOT OK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. SOPHIE DID NOT TRUST KEEFE WITH HER SECRET OF BEING UNMATCHABLE. RO EXTORTED IT OUT OF HER, USING KEEFE AS A LIE DETECTOR. THAT IS NOT OK; IT IS EVIL.

If you re-read the portion in Legacy where she does this, it reveals some truly horrible behavior.

Here’s another direct quote from JaxTheShade explaining why this part is so disgusting:

“Essentially, Ro is blackmailing Sophie.

Sophie just found out that if Keefe goes anywhere near the Neverseen, he will probably die. ( Because at this point, they just thought the legacy thing would kill him ). So she's desperately trying to get Keefe to make a promise and stay away from Gisela. Keefe, in typical fashion, adamantly states that he's not going to be locked up.

This is where Ro steps in.

She says that she will be the one to protect him and make sure he doesn't run off. ( Since she is his bodyguard ). But instead of just...doing her job...she decides that she can exploit the situation. She can get something out of this.

She figured out that Sophie is hiding something. And from the way she hasn't told anyone yet, Ro can assume that she's trying to keep it a secret. But she also knows that Keefe's safety is important to all of them.

So she threatens Keefe's life--yes, threatens--unless Sophie spills her secret. The situation becomes, "I have all the power here, so unless you tell me a confidential secret, I'll let my charge run off into danger, which you can't have. So I know that I've put you into a corner. I know that I've won here."

If this doesn't scream "manipulative abuser", then I don't know what does.

It's disgusting, really. Ro's behaviour is despicable.

And while her blatant blackmail is clearly the worst offense, she also sprinkled in several other "I'm a bad person" actions.

1) She said that the reason Keefe gets away with things is because she "doesn't care enough to fight him" on them. Well, if you don't care, then why don't you just go back to Ravagog? Because Keefe is the second most threatened person their group, and he needs an actual bodyguard, not a manipulative princess who makes him feel even worse about himself. If Keefe gets hurt when he runs off, did he get hurt because you "didn't care enough to bother"?

2) Ro says that she doesn't care that much about him. Well, thanks, Ro. I'm sure that really makes Keefe sleep soundly at night, knowing that you don't really care about him.

3) And why does she not really care about him? Because she only bothers with Keefe as long as he doesn't make her "look bad". She says that the reason she's stopping him this time is because it'll damage her reputation if he dies. You know, instead of being worried about his life.

4) She says "I enjoy meddling". And that's her excuse for blackmailing Sophie into spilling a confidential secret. And yet she has the audacity to accuse Alden of "meddling" while here she sits, admitting it to everyone and acting like it's not a big deal.

5) Her very last line in the quote just further proves that she's just doing this to get Sokeefe to happen. Instead of feeling remorse for Sophie, who is trying not to look at them and clearly uncomfortable, she just brushes off the secret that she just forced out of her by saying that "it should do the trick". The trick being 'getting Fitz to break up with her'.

This is probably Ro's most egregious act yet.

And yet nobody ever seems to call her out for it or even think that...it's a little weird that she would do this.

But I guess it really isn't weird at all, seeing as we've have evidence in the past that proves she would stoop to this level.” - JaxTheShade

That part in Unlocked where Shannon said that (deeeeeeeeeeeep down) Ro cares about Keefe? Well, it’s ooc. Look what Ro says in Legacy:  "I may not care that much about what happens to you, but if you get yourself killed on my watch, it makes me look bad—especially if I had advance notice. So, I can’t have that."

Re-read that portion in Legacy. Alarm bells should be going off in your head.

She reminds me of the villain Ellsworth Monkton Toohey from The Fountainhead. Do you know what he did? He turned people into slaves by establishing psychological power over them and making them miserable. By killing their wants, needs, desires, and happiness, he turned people into miserable slaves who would obey his every order. And the scary part? Ro uses the exact. same. tactics. that he does (not going to list them here, that would take far too long) on Fitz, Sophie, and Keefe. And Keefe almost perfectly resembles the characters who fall for his manipulations and tactics, while Sophie and Fitz resemble the characters who ignored him and went about their business. It’s really unnerving.

Everyone is entitled to seek their own happiness - as long as their actions don't impede others from seeking their own happiness.

Ro actively impedes Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe's pursuit of their own happiness, doing it for no other reason than the fact that she's bored. It sickens me.

And the fact that Fitz is basically demonized and hated by the fandom while praising Ro is what sickens me the most.

Ro manipulates, gaslights, and abuses Sophie, Keefe, and Fitz for her own fun. She doesn't have any long term goal, just destroying their psyche and impeding their ability to find their own happiness for short term amusement. She mocks Fitz for being trying to be perfect (since when has that been a crime?), she gaslights and Objectifies Sophie, mocks Keefe and openly abuses him, and interferes with their relationships because she finds it funny. She's also a misandrist. She calls Fitz a nasty little microbe (I want Alden and Della there next time she does that). She objectifies Sophie as a trophy for Fitz and Sophie to fight over. She constantly tears down Fitz and Sophie, and uses a number of tactics abusers use in real life on Fitz, Sophie, and Keefe. She is a radioactive toxic waste-dump of a person, ruining their lives and psyches not even for her own gain, but just for her own amusement. Her further abuse of Keefe is repugnant, her objectification of Sophie is disgusting, and her mocking and bullying of Fitz makes me want to puke. She's a terrible, terrible person.

And that is why I hate Ro.

[buckyreaderrecs]

Gloxinia

Summary: You’re a witch that helps The Avengers a couple of times. Bucky Barnes finds some sort of happiness and healing in you, and the flowers you surround yourself with. He’s a boy in lalalove. 

 Words: 5,808 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, James 'Rhodey' Rhodes, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), witch!Reader, enhanced!Reader, she/her pronouns for Reader, other characters mentioned but not in scenes, recovering!Bucky, witchy vibes, evil werewolf clones, sassy Sam Wilson, LOTS of flower symbolism, Avengers compound, fluff Warnings: reference to having nightmares but nothing serious My masterlist.

Note: This was written for @the--sad--hatter and her Flowers For My Followers writing challenge. Kara, I love you, and I hope you love this. Also shout out to @vibraniumwitch for being my witchy inspiration always. Also, sorry for probably wrong geography stuff; I'm Australian and don't know shit about New York/Upstate New York loooool.

 Gloxinia

For any of The Avengers to be sceptical of witchcraft seemed, to be perfectly frank, really fucking stupid. Each of their lives had been wrapped up in magic and mystery, so to have them hold back smirks and send mocking glances across the table at each other was not exactly what you had expected.

To be fair, it wasn't all The Avengers making fun. At the head of the table, Steve Rogers watched with curiosity, although he was sure his expression read as neutral. Sam Wilson took the seat closest to you, asking the same question phrased multiple ways.

"So, a witch witch?" "Is it more Sabrina or Charmed?" "Really just making a potion, huh? Like a real life witch…"

He broke the tension, which would have been otherwise unbearable.

Tony Stark, Clint Wilson, and James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been reduced to acting like teenagers at the mere suggestion of brewing a potion. You'd been hoping for a different audience. Specifically, Wanda Maximoff. She would have believed you. Alas, you had not been gifted your choice in company.

"Alright, Broom-hilda, show us what 'cha got," Tony said, growing impatient.

"Do we really have to drink that?" Clint added, peering into the bowl you'd been mixing things in. "Won't turn our skin purple? Grow an extra limb?"

Rolling your eyes, you held up a plant. "Magnolia, for perseverance. Or, add the petals to a salad for a bit of extra colour," you explained in your best infomercial voice.

Sam snorted, then began to poke around the rest of the ingredients. "What’re the orange ones for?"

"That's nasturtium. For conquest."

When you'd finished the mix, you let it cook over a small, portable heat pad. Modern witch, and all that. Hot off the stove, you poured the liquid into a collection of small, glass bottles.

"Let it cool, cork them, then drink it when you need it," you announced, matter-of-factly.

When Natasha Romanoff had exhausted all of her routes of gathering information, returning with only your name, everyone was close to admitting defeat. The battle was lost, surely, if a witch's potion was the only hope… But Steve wasn't in the business of giving up. He sent Sam to bring you to the compound.

Steve explained that they had located a source of power. Ancient, unstable, highly sought-after power. And even with all their superhuman strength and superhuman speed and superhuman everything, they couldn't get to it. Maybe, though, with what was best described as a performance-enhancing-witchy-substance, they had a fighting chance.

The room looked over the bottles.

"How do we know if it'll work?" Sam asked, picking one up and inspecting it.

"We don't," Tony answered. It was less an attack than a statement of unfortunate fact.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Sam nodded, and watched as you pulled a sprig of yarrow and put it into his bottle.

"Yarrow, for healing," you told him.

"Yeah, ah… Can I grab some of that too?" Rhodey asked. "Falc ain't the only brother without super healing."

 …

"No," 

"But-"

"No. I'm not gonna be a magical drug dealer to-" but Sam cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Y/N, Y/N, you got it all wrong! I don't want that nasty nasturtium stuff. Nah, I'm thinking… truth serum?"

"Truth serum," you repeated deadpan.

"Yeah, nightshade," he says nodded and wriggling his eyebrows. He was doing his best 'good kid does extra credit' impression.

"You googling 'truth plant' isn't impressive," you said. That elicited a snort from Sam's companion.

Standing next to him, silent and appearing impatient, Bucky Barnes crossed his arms over his chest. But the snort had dragged him into the conversation.

"And what do you want?" you asked him.

"What?"

"Love spell. Vampire tracker. Or just an easy bottle of truth serum too?"

Bucky blinked at you, then slowly shook his head. "I've had enough serums to last me a lifetime… I'm just here 'cause Steve said you'd kick his ass before you gave him any…magic or whatever," he answered, motioning to Sam.

"So Rogers got all the trio's brains, huh?"

Sam and Bucky frowned in unison.

"Look, we normally just use Nat for this kind of thing. But our guy ain't talking, and we need the information," Sam tried again. "She's out of town, and Wanda's taking a break from getting in people's heads."

Being called in to brew superhero steroids as a once off was one thing… Having the Falcon and the Winter Soldier show up on your doorstep at 11:00 pm was another. However, the men looked desperate.

Sighing, you looked at them. "Fine. Come in. I might be able to help." 

You lead the men through your living room, overlooked by a small kitchen. Their faces told you a lot. "You were expecting a magic cave? Portal to a hut in the middle of a forest?"

"Yeah, kinda," Sam replied, casually shrugging.

"Do you live in a nest?" you asked him.

Bucky chuckled.

"Alright, I get it. The witch thing isn't always literal."

But that's when you pulled a dark purple velvet curtain back, revealing a room you referred to as your office.

"Woah," Bucky whispered to himself.

"Now, see, this is what I'm talking 'bout!" Sam exclaimed, looking around the room in awe.

The small, windowless room was framed by floor to ceiling bookshelves on three of the walls. Stuck between books were trinkets and oddities. Against the fourth wall was a table covered in dried herbs, potted plants, and other things neither Sam nor Bucky could identify.

"Sit," you instructed, pointing to the round table in the centre of the room. There were scorch marks and deep gashed in the wood grain. Bucky traced them with his right hand.

As they pulled out chairs and sat, Sam pointed, "Is that a microwave?"

"For heating potions… and hot pockets," you explained. "So, how much can you tell me?"

"Officially - nothing. Unofficially - your magic juice helped save the world a month ago, so, whatever you need to know," Sam answered.

"Okay. And, none of those C.I.A. psychotropic L.S.D. drugs are real? No secret truth serums invented by Bruce Banner?" you asked, more out of interest than need-to-know.

"If they do, they ain't telling us," Sam said. 

He explained that they had a man in custody. The man knew a date and a location, but he wasn’t cracking in interrogation and time was running out.

"Sounds very spy T.V. dramatic," you mused.

"But it's real life," Bucky said.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at him and his serious expression. "Okay, so what's meant to happen? On the date or whatever?"

"You'll sleep better not knowing that," from Bucky, his expression remaining the same.

You trusted him to gauge what you should and should not know. Nodding, you turned around and began to look for the things you needed. The men watched, leaning over the table when you put things on it.

"I don't do magic on other people. It's a line we don't cross. So, no truth serum. What I can do is try to pull the information you need from somewhere else. Bring it here," you told him.

When you joined them at the table you smiled at their matching faces; furrowed brows and darkened eyes.

"You're sure he knows what you need to know?" you asked. They nodded. "Do you have anything of his?" Sam frowned, shook his head.

Bucky thought for a second, then pulled a knife out of somewhere. "Haven't cleaned this yet. Might still have some of his blood on it,"

"Disturbing, but okay," you said, taking the knife and putting it in the wooden bowl in front of you.

The room went silent as you picked white chrysanthemum petals off a fresh stem and dropped them into the bowl. Begonias followed, then basil. Truth. Knowledge. Success.

"One of you has to be the vessel,"

"The vessel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. The information needs to go to someone. It can't be me,"

"I'll do it," Bucky offered.

For a second you hesitated, wondering how white magic would work through someone with so much darkness in their past. But that was just it - it was the past.

"You need to wear this," you said, handing him a crown made of blackthorn plant. "It's like, a filter. Brings in good luck, and lets the universe know you're working for good."

Bucky looked at the thing in his hands, slowly putting it on his head.

"Suits you, man," Sam said, smirking. Bucky just shot him a look.

They fell silent again, watching you carefully place a few more things in the bowl before filling it with a liquid poured from a glass jar that looked like it once held pasta sauce. Everything sat swimming but still until you placed a hand either side of the bowl, then it started to simmer. It bubbled and popped and seemed to quickly reduce down, evaporating faster than it scientifically should have. Soon, all that was left was about shot glass worth of black, thick syrupy liquid.

"Where's my knife?" Bucky asked.

"Gone," you replied as you poured the potion into a cup. You handed it to Bucky and he looked at you apprehensively. "Drink it and focus on what you want to know… Think about the guy. And, think about what happens if you don't find out what he knows. Think about it so hard that it hurts."

Bucky nodded slowly but shot the liquid quickly. At first, he just sat there, almost like he was stunned.

"How long-" Sam went to ask, but you shushed him.

Suddenly, Bucky pushed back from the table, standing up and sending his chair flying. Sam followed, holding his arms out like he expected Bucky to fall.

"It's okay," you told Sam. "He's okay."

Bucky's eyes were shut tight, and he held his head, fingers curling around his blackthorn crown. He began to breathe heavily, mouth open.

"Is he gonna spew?!" Sam shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

Taking the empty wooden bowl with you, you stood and moved to Bucky. He went still and mimicked your exact movements of slowly lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling. Sam didn't understand how Bucky knew what to do; you'd not uttered a command.

You placed the bowl between you and Bucky. He leaned over it, and began to cough and pull something from his mouth. It was impossibly long, coming from somewhere deep inside him. He pulled and pulled, letting it slop into the bowl. When it was all out, he spat, then seemingly woke up, falling on his butt and backing away from the bowl.

"What the fuck," he said between heavy breaths.

Sam and Bucky watched you look through the muck and gunk in the bowl, no hesitation to your movement.

"What is that?" Sam asked, truly disgusted. 

You looked over to Bucky, who was looking at the thing intently. He scrambled back over and took it from you. "I know…" he started, looking up at Sam. "I know… everything.”

 …

 You had dropped cutlery three times, but when it was almost midnight and no company had come, you were getting restless. In your office, sat at the table, you shuffled a deck and laid out cards.

The Hanged Man. The Hermit. The Hierophant, reversed. The Lovers.

Then, 11.11 and a soft knock on the door.

Bucky Barnes looked sleep deprived but somehow hopeful.

"I thought I might see you tonight," you told him, opening the door and letting him through. "Were you right? About the date and place?"

"Yes," he said, coming to stand in your living room.

"Good. What do Earth's Mightiest Heroes need now then?"

Bucky looked around. "Do you have any pets?" he asked.

"No. Do you?"

"A cat. Alpine... Thought you'd have one… black cat or something." He wasn't teasing, like Sam had.

"Black cat? Thought you guys were the ones with a black cat?"

Bucky grinned. "Funny. You're funny,"

"Thanks… You're not here for them then,"

"No," he said, walking over to the window where plants were everywhere. "Do you use all of these? For your magic?"

"Most of them, yeah. Like, these ones…" You moved to stand next to him. "They give strength,"

"Snapdragons," Bucky identified.

"Yep. And… Vervain are protective in nature, especially from enchantment." You picked a sprig of the purple plant, threaded it through Bucky's hair, behind his ear.

"What about nightmares? What helps with those?" he asked earnestly.

The room was illuminated by candlelight. A soft orangy glow lit up half his fast, casting the other half into shadow. You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands.

"A tired soldier… Sing him to sleep… A tired soldier… The devil's to keep," you sung gently, running your thumbs along his cheeks. "Sit. I'll brew you tea,"

"Tea?" Bucky asked, a little hesitant to be out of your hands.

"Magic tea," you clarified, rolling your eyes.

Elderflower for compassion and sweet-brier petals for healing. A little poppy and chamomile, and other secrets kept in your family for generations. A dash of Indian jasmine to finish. It glimmered as you swirled it in the teacup.

Bucky was on the couch, sitting up too straight.

"Take your boots off. Lay down," you instructed. He went to protest, probably say you didn't need to put that much effort in. "Please," you said, stopping the protest. "Let me do this."

Bucky followed your commands and took the teacup when offered. He skulled it like a frat boy in a bar trying to impress his mates.

"Now close your eyes. Sleep," you said, taking the empty cup from him.

Kneeling next to the couch, you softly ran your fingers through Bucky's hair and waited until he fell asleep before you moved to your own bed.

He was gone when you woke up.

 …

 "What? No broomstick?" called the unmistakable voice of Sam Wilson.

Standing at the open boot of your car, you looked up and watched him approach, Bucky trailing behind, hands shoved in his pockets.

"You stalking me now?" you asked, clocking the bunch of flowers in Sam's hands.

"Nope. Just waiting for you. Weren't home and we wanted to drop off a thank you, for the helping last week," he said, holding out the bouquet to you.

"So, the information was good?" you asked, pretending Bucky hadn't already confirmed it to you. His late night visit to you a few nights before was obviously not something he'd shared with his friends.

"It was good. You do good work,"

"Thanks," you said dubiously, but taking the flowers.

"We picked those out especially. This one is a gerball-"

"Gerbera," Bucky correct.

"Means 'you are the sunshine of my life' and this one is an orchid, for beauty," Sam rattled off.

"What about this one?" you asked, pointing to the yellow agrimony.

"Buck picked that one. What's it mean?" Sam asked, looking over to Bucky. Bucky was leaning against your car casually. He shrugged, pretended to not know agrimony was the gratitude plant.

"They're beautiful. You didn't have to," you told them, putting the flowers in one of the boxes in the boot of your car.

"You need a hand?" Sam asked, not waiting for a response. He swooped in and collected one of the heavy boxes. Bucky followed, picking up the other.

"Ah… sure…"

You let them carry your things inside, put them on the kitchen bench.

"More witch stuff? Eye of newt? That kind of thing?" Sam asked.

"If microwave popcorn and frozen lasagna is witchy, then ya got me," you laughed. "You're gonna be disappointed if you keep thinking like that, Sam,"

"You say that but I've seen behind the curtain. You're definitely witchy enough,"

"Yeah, yeah… So what do you want? You didn't just come to give me flowers," you asked, launching yourself backwards and up to sit on the bench.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was back over at the window and the plants. Sam clocked you looking, but filed that away.

"We've got an offer for you,"

"When you say 'we,' who exactly do you mean?"

"Us! The Avengers! Superheros!" Sam said, chest puffed out.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. "Nope,"

"You haven't even heard-"

"No. I'm happy doing what I do," you told him.

"I told you," Bucky chimed in, stopping at a gloxinia, something about its prettiness resonating with him. "What's this one mean?"

"Love at first sight," you said, biting your lip to hide a smile.

"Whatever you do doesn't come with the perks we have," Sam persisted.

"Also doesn't come with anonymity I kinda like,"

"Alright. I tried. Can't promise we won't be back for more help though. Like I said, you do good work... So, this lasagna. Fresh?"

…

 "Well, if it isn't Broom-hilda," Tony said, arms open.

"I hope you're not expecting a hug," you replied, holding your own arms around yourself. Bucky snorted from next to you.

"Brumhilda?! A name derived from Brunnhilde, no doubt. I have a friend named-"

"Yeah, now's not the time for Asgardian tales," Tony interrupted a seemingly very excited Thor.

"Her name's Y/N," Bucky said to Thor.

Thor looked back and forth between Tony and you. "He thinks it's funny," you explained.

"It is. And I am," Tony argued.

You sighed, sat down in one of the conference room's chairs and began to slowly spin on it. "So, what am I doing here?"

When Sam and Bucky knocked on your door before the sun had a chance to rise and shine that morning, you knew it was going to be hard to say no to them. They both looked upset, and Sam was even free from his usual quips. As soon as you saw their faces, you began to nod. "Let me get dressed. I'll come," you whispered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Bucky pulled up a seat next to you, the rest of the room taking the cue and finding their spots around the large table. You recognised everyone, having met most of them. Clint and Rhodey nodded politely in your direction.

"Y/N," Steve greeted, sitting next to Bucky. "Good to see you. Heard these punks have been harassing ya?"

"Nothing she can't handle," Sam cut in, sitting on your other side.

"Truly sorry for them," Steve said, grinning.

You shrugged, looking at Bucky. "They're alright."

Tony cleared his throat. "Whole team isn't here yet, but they're coming… We're going to need all the help we can get."

 ...

 "There's too many of them!” 

"At least they're not evil flying robots!"

"Hey! I said I was sorry!"

"Cap, we've got to try somethin' else. Bullets ain't doin' shit."

"Wanda? Can you-"

"On it."

"Do you need me to go big? 'Cause I'll go big."

"Yes! Mr. Stark, can he go big?!"

From your hidden vantage point higher up the mountain, you watched the battle play out in front of you. Through the earpiece you listened to The Avengers et. al. try to work out what to do. It was true - they were severely outnumbered. The situation was going from bad to worse.

"Jesus!" you yelped as someone almost body-slammed themselves next to you.

"Sorry. Checkin' you're still here,"

"Where else would I be?"

Bucky shrugged, reloaded.

"What are they, Buck? I know a lot about a lot, but I've never seen anything like them."

You took another look through the M22 field binoculars you'd been issued. The monsters didn't look entirely… natural. Maybe, like many creatures of the world, they were made in a lab. They were men pulled apart, stitched back together with pieces of dog and wolf. Their claws ripped through protective gear and flesh like it was nothing, and they could communicate by wordless sound. It was almost howling, but more guttural and less fluid.

"They all look the same," you said.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, noticed that too. Exactly the same,"

"Exactly? Up close? Even the human parts?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. "Yep. Clones. What're you thinkin'?"

"Clones..? Um, I don't know… I just… If I can figure out what they are then I can figure out how to help."

Sam dropped down on the other side of you, his wings damaged. He ripped the pack off his back and began to try to repair them. "If I knew we were gonna be out here fightin' fucking werewolves I would've packed the silverware instead of the vibranium."

"Werewolves?" you asked, pulling a small silk pouch from your bag. "Here. Use this to stick them back together,"

"Stick it back together? Y/N. Can't just glue an EXO back together-"

"It's not glue, Sam. It's bumblebee orchid, oak leaf, protea, and a bunch of other things you don't wanna know about," you explained.

"You really questioning her magic? Use her glue,” Bucky ordered. 

Sam huffed but complied. And abracadabra, your witchy sticky goop held his wings together stronger than they were before.

Bucky and Sam stood up, reloaded and ready to rejoin the fight.

"Wait!" you called, suddenly having a thought. "What if they really are werewolves?"

"What?" Sam said.

"Weirder things have happened, right? Werewolves are real. So maybe…" Your voice trailed off as you tipped the entire contents of your bag onto the forest floor.

"Y/N, we don't have time-"

"Gimme a second. I know I have it here,"

"Have what?" Bucky asked, kneeling down and studying the contents of your bag too.

"Aconitum extract… in a bottle… Here!"

"Aconitum?" Sam asked confused and growing impatient.

"Monkshood. Um, wolfsbane. Bucky, are we too far up for you to get one?"

Bucky took your M22s and assessed. "No. Nah, I can get one,"

"Gimme a bullet."

Sam and Bucky watched you dip the bullet in aconitum while uttering any and every luck enchantment you could think of. Bucky loaded his M249 SAW, steadied himself and fired.

The monster went down.

All three of you held your breath and waited. Through the M22s you watched Steve approach the body, check it.

"It's… dead…" came through the comms.

 …

 It had been two weeks since the army of hybrid werewolf clones, so two weeks since you'd last seen Bucky. It had taken days to kill them all. You had to be flown out to find more aconitum extract. From the lab at the compound you were able to work with Bruce Banner to find better ways of delivering the wolfsbane to the clones. Once you had it, it was all over for those motherfuckers.

When everyone else arrived back at the compound, they were exhausted, covered in the thick ash generated by the massive fires it took to burn all the bodies. Bucky was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he mustered the energy to offer to drive you back home to New York City himself. You just sent him off to shower and bed, taking Tony's offer of a ride with one of his minions.

It had been two weeks, then a dream, a vivid and hazy dream. A white cat brought you orange blossoms, carrying a branch in his mouth. "Do you want me to plant this?" you asked the cat, and you knew he would say yes if it could speak. He watched you tend to the blossom, then he disappeared through an open window. You could feel the cool breeze against your skin, felt your hair move.

When you woke, it didn't surprise you to find Bucky sitting next to your bed, back to it and legs stretched out in front of him. The window was open, letting in an unseasonably warm morning zephyr.

"I just had a dream about you," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

Bucky looked up at you. He seemed sad. "Good dream or bad dream?"

"Good. Always good."

He nodded, trying for a small smile. "The fern… It meant I could come in, right?"

"Glad you got the message," you answered. Out on the sills of all your windows, you left ferns. They meant a lot of things - fascination, magic, enchantment, sincerity, and shelter - and you'd told Bucky they were his plant, back when he and Sam came to offer you a job with The Avengers. At the entry points to your home, they were an open invitation for him, a coded welcome mat.

"Didn't want to wake you," Bucky said.

"I'm awake now. What do you need?"

He thought for a moment. He needed a lot of things, many of which you could definitely provide. "Tea? Thought maybe you could mix some for me to take home. Maybe give to the others,"

"I can do one better than that. I can make everyone their own blend. It will be fun. Come on. I'll teach you how," you said, pulling the blankets away and getting out of bed.

Bucky stood, looking a little alarmed. "You don't have to-"

"I know, Buck. But I want to. Come on."

It took all day, but eventually you had packaged up individual tea blends for everyone. Bucky got a stash of his special sleepy tea, and he already looked more rested with it in his possession. You walked him to the door sometime just before 5:00 pm.

"Thank you," he said, quiet and reflective.

"Easy. You're always welcome here. Sam - not so much. But you - always," you told him, leaning against the frame of your front door.

"Might take you up on that,"

"Please do," you said nodding.

Bucky smiled, went to leave, but turned back like he was going to say something. You stood straight, patient. His brain was ticking, thinking something over. Deciding. Then, he moved. Quickly, he stepped back and pressed a fast but soft kiss to your lips. He was gone, literally nowhere to be seen, before you had time to say or do anything.

 …

 The Hudson River sparkled under the sunset. Bucky watched the colours reflect the scene, like one of Steve's paintings. He was lost in a daydream when Sam nudged him.

"Where you at, man?" he asked.

Bucky looked over at Sam and Steve, who were both eyeing him off suspiciously. They'd carried a couple of couches to the roof. Stolen Clint's beer and set up shop for the night. Pizza was on its way.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"You were thinking about her again, huh?" Steve guessed.

Bucky looked back at the river, ignored his friends. They laughed, returned to their conversation.

Later, when Sam had retired to his room, not able to superhuman heat himself, Steve moved over to lounge next to Bucky. He rested his head on Bucky's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"I think I love her," Bucky replied.

Steve laughed at the speed of the response. "I think you might too. All those girls before, and you never really loved any of them... Guess you stuck around to meet her,"

"Seems that way,"

"You gonna do anything about it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah… It's gotta be good though," Bucky said, only then realising the depth of his feelings.

"Wouldn't wait too long, pal."

 ….

 Bucky took you up on your invitation, coming and going from your place frequently. Sometimes, you'd find fresh croissants left on your kitchen bench. Sometimes, you'd find him asleep on your couch. 

How much he needed from you varied, but how much he was willing to give seemed infinite. You had to proactively stop him from becoming some sort of amazing housekeeper slash meal provider.

After about a month, he settled enough to be able to just exist around you. He'd help you pick the right leaves for the teas you made people. He'd disappear into your bedroom when you had clients over, reading their cards while Bucky listened in like it was a television series. It was easy being around him, and you were ready to be patient for a lot longer, but fuck were you itching for more.

The kissing was sweet, but very often brief. Bucky caught your lips in the moments between your magic and his profound awe. You did what you could to encourage him, but knew the ball was well and truly in his court. So, when he ushered you outside one sunny morning, you didn't really have much expectation.

"I thought you'd never ask," you said, face lighting up when you saw Bucky's bike out the front of your place. New York City was buzzing around you, but as soon as you watched him get on and hand you a helmet, you'd never craved the open road more.

All the other times you'd been to The Avengers compound, you'd traveled by air. It was quick. The ride took longer but it was so much better. Having your arms wrapped around Bucky, the feeling of the bike rumbling under you, it was something new, which was all sorts of remarkable. Being magic sapped a lot of the wonder from the world, ironically. Bucky was bringing it back.

At the compound, Bucky took your hand and lead you around the side, not going in. "I've, ah, got something for you," he said.

"You sound nervous,"

"Yeah. If you could just cast up a little spell to get rid of that, it would be great," he said deadpan.

You laughed while looking around for clues to Bucky's surprise for you.

Rounding a corner, it came into view. A garden. A proper garden, complete with white picket fencing surrounding it. It was like something out of Practical Magic, and all your childhood dreams.

"What is this?"

"It's for you. A place you can grow whatever you need. Or want," Bucky said.

In a state of genuine shock, you let go of Bucky's hand and covered your mouth with yours. You had never seen anything more spectacular.

At the single entrance to the garden was an arch. Ivy and honeysuckle covered it completely, like they'd had a lot of time to grow. You pulled a flower from the arch, reaching up to find a full bloom. "Honeysuckle petals are edible," you said, reaching out to Bucky. He let you feed him the flower. "Sweet, like the perfume. They symbolism devotion, or being 'united in love.' Kinda like the ivy on it. Ivy symbolises attraction."

Bucky smiled wide, his eyes sparkling as he watched you walk further in. "We tried to make sections, you know, for the different plants. Like, this part here has sandy soil for the desert plants," he explained.

"We?"

"Got a lot of help from the others,"

"I'll have to thank them," you said.

There were veggie patches and small fruit trees. Almost half the garden was designated to all the types of plants Bucky had seen you use in potions and teas. Dog rose, blackthorn, rosemary, euphorbia, snowdrop flowers, bells of Ireland, and welcoming wisteria. The raised beds were overflowing with plants, just about ready to bloom in an explosion of colour.

"This… This is incredible,"

"Figured your apartment doesn't really have the space. And you're welcome here anytime,"

"I’ll wanna be here all the time." The garden was what your magical ancestors could have only dreamed of. "I don’t even know what to look at first,"

"Well, maybe that," Bucky said, pointing to a birdbath, where butterflies were hovering over the water. The best part though, was a small sign sticking out the ground next to it that read For Sam.

You laughed. "Oh my god,"

"He was so grumpy about it,"

"Shouldn't have named himself after a bird then," you reasoned.

Bucky nodded, grinning. "And we put that bench opposite so you could sit and watch them."

Your eyes were beginning to tear up, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of love and effort surrounding you. "Buck… I just can't…"

"Oh! And, one more thing. This was Wanda's idea. Come on."

Bucky took your hand and lead you through the garden to the back to where a weeping mulberry tree stood in the corner. He pushed through the soft branches, revealing the manicured underside. A green, little cave under the canopy held secret another wooden bench. Bucky sat down, otherwise he'd have to bend. It was the perfect height for you though, but you sat next to him anyway.

From under the mulberry tree you could see the rest of the garden. All the plants swayed in the warm breeze, and the flowers popped bright and happy.

"How long have you been working on this? Some of those are grown well in,"

"You don't need to know any of that. Takes away the magic, don't it?"

"You mean, a magician doesn't reveal his secrets and all that?" you asked.

Bucky shrugged and nodded, leaning back into the bench a little more and putting an arm around you. Snuggling into his side, you breathed out and just soaked it all in. Your mind was caught between racing with ideas of all the things you could do with the garden and plants, and totally turning to blissful mush.

"I know ya never wanted to work with us, but I'm glad Nat found you. Glad I met you," Bucky said, his voice back to being a little bit shaky, nervous. "You've made my life better, you know? Not just with the, the nightmares, but just… everything. You make everything better…"

You knew he wasn't finished, so you stayed quiet while he gathered his thoughts. In the meantime, you threaded your fingers through his, rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand.

"I used to be so good at this," he said, huffing a little.

It made you giggle. "Used to be good at what?" you asked knowingly, sitting up and looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Y/N! I'm tryna' tell you I'm sweet on you and you're gonna give me shit,"

"Yeah, I am. I'm also gonna give you shit about the phrase 'sweet on you' too," you replied, laughing.

Bucky smiled, watching you laugh, just happy you were happy. When you stopped, he sat up and used both hands to fold the hair behind your ears. Holding your face in his hands, he tried to not grin like an idiot. He couldn’t hide the smirk.

"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said, voice finally dead certain.

"Yeah, the garden was a bit of a giveaway," you replied, quickly adding, "And that's good. 'Cause I'm in love with you too. Very completely."

Bucky made the kind of expression you'd pull at a basket of mewing kittens, or a puppy tumbling across fresh cut lawn. It was very, very kissable. So, you did want any self-respecting witch would do. You kissed Bucky Barnes like your life depended on it in the secret mulberry tree cave he had made just for you.

 ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

My taglist (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter​ @fairislesheets​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @cristie24​ 

[shinycorvidae]

How Vic and Hiro Ended Up Sharing a Brain Tapeworm

(cowritten with @smilepal)

Part 6 of 6: In Which We Piss Off Our Pseudo-Father Figures

"Please proceed to insert the jack below the ear, although not too deep"

"... auxiliary neurosockets..."

"If I hit a vein by mistake..."

"...end up like Deshawn...fucking try me..."

"I think I have it."

"V! We're at viks, just..."

"... cannot...need...rest"

"Misty!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(I got stuck writing this for two weeks and I want to get to the rest of the story SO HERE HAVE SOME BULLET POINTS ✌️)

Vik taking V from Hiro's arms. He moves right into surgery and leaves a blood soaked Hiro to pace and listen to Delamain tell Vik that she’s going to die. Misty tries to convince him to go wash off the blood he’s covered in. Like hell is he leaving till Vs stable. She instead sits him down within eyesight of V and wraps up his torn palm. It’s cyberware, the best she can do is stop the leaking.

Hiro uses his anti-anxiety medication for the first time since he was a teenager. He doesn’t have time for panic attacks, he needs to be sharp, he’s got multiple people to protect.

Vik finally manages to stabilize V. He forces Hiro out of the clinic, V will be fine tonight, he needs to go home.

Hiro goes home to an empty, silent apartment. Watches V’s blood wash down the shower drain.

He doesn't sleep that night.

Hiro returns the next morning with three coffees. He’s not optimistic enough to bring one for Takemura or V.

Not that he’d bring one for the corpo anyway.

Vik is tired. There are dark circles under his eyes and he's slumped over on his stool staring into the distance. Hiro’s gut sinks, and he reflexively checks that V’s still breathing.

That’s Vik’s bad news face.

Hiro hands Vik the coffee and they sit in silence for a while. Watching V breathe.

Vik puts down his coffee and sighs.

“Do you want the good or the bad first?”

“Just tell me Vik”

“She’s stable. I removed the bullet from her head and she’ll recover fully from the wound. She’ll have a nasty scar and nothing else.”

“...but?”

“It’s hard to explain kid.”

“Vik.”

“The item V and Jackie were sent to filch? It’s a biochip, a Relic. Arasakas “upload a dead person” magic trick. But this one’s different, a prototype. Somehow it got slotted into Vs head.”

“What? Why would she do that? That...that makes no sense. Vic’s an idiot sometimes but...she wouldn’t do that.”

“Might not have been a willing choice kid. Might have been a desperate action. Maybe she was just reckless. I don’t know. Doesn’t change the end result. There’s a biochip in her head and I can’t get it out without killing her.”

“What? You can’t just unslot it?”

“When Deshawn shot her, she was dead. Just for a minute, maybe less. Then the nanites in the chip booted up and brought her back. That Relic is the only reason she’s breathing on that bed right now.”

“Fuck. Fuck, she...never mind, keep going Vik. Tell me all of it.”

“There’s only bad news left Hiro.”

“Keep going. Please.”

“...alright. That reboot, the bullet to the head? It activated the construct on the biochip. The virtual psyche of the person written on that chip. Johnny Silverhand.”

“...the rocker?”

“The terrorist more like. He’s...he’s overwriting V. He’s-It’s going to scoop out everything that makes her V and replace it with Silverhand. She has a couple weeks before there's nothing of her left, maybe a month at best.”

“How do we fix it?”

“There’s...-kid there’s nothing I can fix. I can slow it down a little with some medication, keep her a little more comfortable. But I-I can't fix this.”

The floor drops out from under him. No. Not now. She lived, she survived a bullet to the fucking head. A little piece of tech isn’t going to-

Fuck. FUck. Not another one, please not both of them, he cant-

And V. V who hates any loss of control, who’s so sure of who she is. Getting erased...he can’t think of a worst fear for her. A worse torture.

He leans against the counter heavily, the only thing supporting his weight. He can’t even look at her. He failed her. HE failed them both.

Vik's hand falls on his back. He can barely feel it. Barely hear him talk.

“I tried kid. I worked through every possible solution. Nothing works. The closest I got was splitting the engram but its not going to-”

Hiro will take anything. Any deal, any bargain to keep her here.

“Split it. How would you split it.”

Vik just looks at him. Keeps his mouth shut for a beat.

“Hiro-”

“NO! Vik, I refuse to- we won't lose her. We can’t, I can’t-. You aren't going to hold anything back from me, I swear-”

“Fine! Fine. If you split the engram, you might, MIGHT alleviate the load on Vic’s brain enough that she can fight off the engram, partially. Enough so she keeps control. It's a slim chance. More likely it will just buy her time, a couple months, and doom the second host to the same fate. And it might just outright kill her and the second host. I'm not going to take someone off the street and subject them to that. And I don't know anyone who'd do it willingly.”

“...I will. Use me. I’ll be the second host.”

“No.”

Viktor’s no is immediate. He's both horrified and shocked that Hiro would even offer. He watched him fight to survive as a teenager. To see him gamble his life on the slight chance to save Vic...

He won’t. He practically raised the kid, he’s not going to kill him on his own operating table.

Hiro gets right in his face, desperate and angry.

“We have a chance Vik! You're just too scared to take it!”

“It’s a fool’s chance! At best you buy her a couple months-”

“You said there's a chance it’d cure her completely.”

“A tiny one! It'd be like betting on a five year old in a one-on-one with Razor Hughes. Its suicide.”

“If V’s that five year old I’m taking that god damned bet.”

Vik just stares at him. He’s completely serious. He knew Jackie's death was affecting him, but he hadn't realized he'd lost his mind.

“Hiro-”

“I am BEGGING you Vik. I will get on my knees if that makes a difference, PLEASE. If you have an ounce of respect for me you'll do this, its my body, my fucking choice”

Hiro ups the ante at the sliver of weakness of resignation in Vik's face. He’s terrified and it’s making him desperate, making him mad.

“If you don't I will never forgive you, I fucking swear. You will never see my face again. You can’t not give me this chance to save her,-”

Vik's face goes hard. Stony. If the kid is going to guilt him with that, fine. He's an adult and obviously he doesn't care anymore. Let him risk his own damn life.

And. Hiro’s desperate enough, Vik KNOWS, he just knows that Hiro won't give up. He’ll find a different ripperdoc, one willing to do it. And they’ll fuck it up. No one willing to do that would be good at their job. He has to do it. Or put Hiro at even greater risk.

A little part of Vik hates Hiro for it. For backing him into this awful corner. For forcing him to be complicit in Hiro's death. In V’s.

“Alright. Alright. Go change into one of the scrubs, the sooner we do this, the better. For you and for V”

“Thank you-”

“DO NOT thank me for this Hiro. Do not. I don’t want to do this. It’s wrong and I’m pretty sure V would-”

“V lost the right to an opinion when she slotted this thing in her fucking skull in the first place.”

Vik performs the surgery. They both live. He makes sure Hiro is comfortable and asleep before opening up the scans of their brains. Of the Relic, still nestled in Vs head untouched. His stomach drops.

His prediction was mostly right. V isn't cured. Hiro bought her a couple more months, maybe 2 or 3. He's only delayed her death. Stretched out how long it will take Silverhand to devour her. Hiro has connected himself to her and the Relic but in a stroke of luck not her death. The relic isn't trying to scoop him out, but it will put stress on his synapses. He’ll have migraines, nausea, even possible seizures at the end of V’s life but when her final thread of self snaps, the bridge between their brains will collapse. He may be left with some permanent effects but he’ll live. Thank god he’ll live. He mourns for V but selfishly, awfully he's so grateful Hiro lived and will live. He will never say it out loud but he'd sacrifice V, a good friend, if it meant Hiro could live.

Hiro wakes up the next day. He refuses to believe Vik's final diagnosis. He’s bought V time, they’ll find some way to fix this.

He spends the week at Vik's, recovering and waiting for her to wake up. He tries to help around the clinic, but his relationship with Vik has been severely strained. Any conversation is awkward and stilted.

V wakes occasionally, short periods of not full awareness. Murmuring words, clenching her fists, eyes barely opening.

The first time she does it, Hiro's sitting right next to her bed, fiddling with the dismantled pieces of a shotgun to keep busy. He happens to look to his left. He’s shocked by the sight of V’s yellow brown eyes, staring at him lazy and warm.

“Hiro...”

“Hey V. Go back to sleep. It's too soon for you to be waking up.”

“K. G’night.”

A surge of deep want goes through Hiro as he pushes Vs hair back. He wants her.

Ohhhhh fuuuuuck he wants her. Not just as a friend. Or a roommate. Or a want for her to be safe. Oh no. oh nooooooo.

Apparently he’s not gay??? At least not completely. MAybe it's just men AND V. like an exception? Fuck this is bad. This is bad AND weird.

But he definitely wants V in his bed. He wants to know what her nails feel like on his back, her teeth on his lip. The playful look in her warm eyes as she drags her hand down his chest-

NOPE. NO. He’s not doing this right now. V is sick, V is DYING, he’s not- nope we aren't thinking about that.

It takes a couple hours for his ears to stop being bright red.

V wakes up late on the 6th day, Vik is sitting right there. Waiting for her to wake up.

V takes the news quietly. She's tired and obviously weak but her voice only wavers a little. She only begs Vik for a solution once, when she learns she’ll lose everything she is. She doesn't tear up or panic but examines every option she has. Looking for a way out. She can break down when she’s alone. Vik looks like he’s struggling with this enough. He doesn’t need to see her pain and fear too.

Hiro watches the whole thing from across the clinic. In a dark enough corner that V wouldn't immediately notice him. He watches her push down her feelings. Comforting Vik about her own fate for fucks sake.

He shouldn’t be here. Now that she’s lucid she probably hates him for not coming with them. He shouldn't creepily watch her be vulnerable without her consent. But he can't manage to drag himself away either.

Vik shakily wipes his face and delivers the final blow

"Hiro bought you sometime so you have a couple months instead of weeks. But you’re still dying V-"

"Wait Hiro? What did he do? Where is he?"

Fuck. Well now he really can't just sulk in the corner anymore. He comes out, walking up to her bed silently. He has no clue what to say to her.

V doesn't leave him drowning for long. She gives him a small smile, tired and pained but happy to see him anyway.

"It only took me dying to get you to learn to be sneaky, huh?"

A small choked laugh, suspiciously wet, escapes him. Only she would pull a laugh out of him right now, the brat.

Misty helps Hiro move her to a wheel chair so he can bring her home. Vik explains the meds to him too. He can tell her later. When she's not fast asleep in a wheelchair.

She's snoring and her hair is stuck around the handle. She's an idiot. She’s adorable.

Fuck.

[kinktae]

groovy || pt. 2 (FINAL)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister.

pairing: tae x childhood friend!reader

word count: 10k

genre: 1970s au, fluff, ANGST, eventual smut, f2l

warnings: tae & OC do the NASTY (smut is being edited), Jimin is an endearing pothead, themes of death, unhealthy coping mechanisms such as alcohol and sex

A/N: This fic was entirely inspired by the song If I Could Tell her by from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. Go give it a listen ;)

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 (FINAL)

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART TWO (FINAL) **UNEDITED**

Hoseok crossed his arms over his chest, "Jimin, you gotta be higher than a kite to stand here and tell me that Jaws is scarier than The Exorcist."

"Objection, your honor! How is that relevant to the argument?" Jimin turned towards Taehyung, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

"Overruled. I'll allow it just this once." Taehyung stated decidedly, rubbing at his chin dramatically.

"Fine." Jimin squinted, turning back towards Hoseok, looking coy. "I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation, but I still vote Jaws."

The two friends were in a heated debate over which of the two films reigned supreme. What started as a mere difference in opinions quickly turned into something far more dramatic, the three boys using it as a means to pass the time as the final hours of the day approached.

"Regan's head literally spins. She was like a fucking owl, man." Hoseok emphasized.

"The Exorcist is unrealistic.” Jimin waved off easily. “Ya know what's real and scary? Sharks.”

Hoseok shook his head in frustration, his dark locks shifting as he did so.

"I don't deny that Sharks are scary but a little possessed girl crab walking down the stairs? Scarier."

"Dude, The Exorcist was gross." Jimin frowned.

Hoseok gasped, quickly turning to his blond friend. "Objection! Your honor, that was a biased claim on his part."

"Sustained. No raggin' on either film." Taehyung agreed, causing Jimin to sigh.

"Fine. The Exorcist was graphic.” Jimin corrected himself. “Who wants to see a little girl projectile vomit all over herself?”

Suddenly, Hoseok brought his hand down onto the counter, the loud noise causing both Taehyung and Jimin to jump.

"Exactly!" He declared far too enthusiastically. "It's grotesque— disturbing even! That's what makes it so damn scary. The Exorcist is the superior horror film. I rest my case."

"Uh... is now not a good time?"

The sound of an entirely new voice appearing suddenly caused all three men to turn around. You were standing by the shop’s door, a perplexed yet amused expression on your pretty face. Taehyung was so taken aback by your sudden arrival that he nearly missed the Tupperware container that was being held between your hands.

"Y/N, Hey!" Taehyung exclaimed, an embarrassed hue crawling over his face. "No, uh, we were just... We didn't hear the bell, sorry!"

You laughed lightly, "No worries."

It hadn't been long since the last time Taehyung had seen you. As a matter of fact, just yesterday morning he had driven you back home so it didn’t make much sense for his heart to be pounding this loudly at the sight of you standing here in front of him.

Your hair had been thrown up in a ponytail that looked last minute but neat all the same, but it wasn’t your hairstyle that caught his attention. Crawling up your legs and underneath your denim skirt were a pair of bright yellow stockings, very much like the ones you used to wear when you were younger.

You were brilliant, he realized. Standing there in all your colored stocking glory, you were absolutely captivating and the blond boy suddenly wished he had put more effort into getting ready today.

His hair was lying flat against his head, having gone unstyled, and he had run out of his contact lenses, forcing him to wear his unflattering frames today.

You took note of his glasses' sudden appearance immediately; the last time you had seen Taehyung with them was when the two of you were still both puberty plagued teenagers. Still, there was something about the bespeckled boy that was comforting to see and much to his chagrin, you stared at him openly.

"U-Uh, you’ve met my friends Hoseok and Jimin, right?" Taehyung stuttered, growing flustered under your stare.

At his words, you looked over at the two boys in question– the shorter of the two had light brown hair and offered you a pleasant smile while the other one stared at you stone-faced, arms crossed over his chest.

"Jung Hoseok, right?" You recalled, flashing the solemn boy a nod.

Hoseok's eyes noticeably widened.

"Wasn't sure you remembered me." He responded cautiously.

You cocked your head to the side, "You were the first guy to ever kick my brother's ass. Hard to forget a moment like that."

"Yeah, well, someone had to knock that asshole down a peg." Hoseok smirked causing Taehyung to bump his shoulder into the dark-haired boy disapprovingly.

"Uh... no disrespect, of course." Hoseok corrected himself. You shook your head.

"No, you're right. He definitely had it coming." You smiled softly.

The exact moment the two of you were referencing had occurred in your junior year of high school, before Jungkook's death. You didn't know much of your brother's social life other than that Taehyung was in it but you remembered hearing the name Hoseok thrown around once or twice. From your understanding, he was someone in Jungkook's social circle that he didn't particularly care for but seemed to tolerate for Taehyung’s sake.

That all changed, however, one day in your school’s courtyard.

You weren't surprised to hear that your brother had started yet another fight in school– he had an awful temper and an even worse ability to control it –but you were, in fact, pleasantly surprised to find out that the fight had ended with Jungkook getting his ass handed back to him by Hoseok.

Both boys were suspended but Jungkook's punishment lasted far longer than Hoseok's was– the fight having not have been his first offense on school grounds.

Jungkook never got to see the end of his suspension, you realized suddenly. He died two weeks before he was due back.

Pushing that dark thought away, you shook your head, putting on a pleasant expression.

"I don't know what was more bruised, his eye or his ego." You joked. Hoseok grinned at your words, clearly surprised at how lightly you spoke of the situation.

“I gotta say, Jeon, you’re not nearly as shitty as your brother.” Hoseok chuckled.

There was something off about the smile that you gave him in reply and, for a split second, he feared that he had said something out of line. Taehyung noticed it too. Seeping through the place where your lips met was a bitter truth– a silent disagreement that you were in fact just as shitty as your brother but lacked the courage to say it.

“Hey, what’s in the container?” Taehyung finally spoke up, eager to shift the topic to something lighter.

“Oh. Right!" You blinked, your entire demeanor changing, "That’s actually why I came. I made brownies.”

Jimin noticeably perked up, eyes falling onto the container silently.

“What kind of brownies?” Jimin wondered lowly.

Hoseok shot him a look before turning to you, "You made us brownies?"

You shrugged, "Well, technically, I made them for Blondie but you guys are more than welcome to have some."

Taehyung's ears went pink. The idea that you made and brought brownies specifically for him was so overwhelmingly endearing he thought his heart might combust.

"F-For me?" He stuttered. You nodded eagerly.

Something you always liked about Taehyung was how easy it was to know what he was thinking, even if he didn’t want you to. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and was pretty much an open book to all.

You knew there was a small part of you that was jealous of him. Jealous of how transparent and honest he was. Because if you tried to be that way it wouldn't be something admirable or wonderful at all. It would be ugly and spiteful.

When Jungkook first died, you were something like a bomb, fragile yet on the verge of exploding at any given moment. You were angry all the time and lost a lot of friends who you treated poorly, taking from their wells of forgiveness until they had entirely run dry.

So for the moment, you were content with presenting a false version of yourself to others. If you had to paint a picture of yourself for them then at least you would make sure it was a pretty one.

"Yeah. Think of it as a thank you for letting me stay over the other night." You continued.

Hoseok's eyebrows raised, finding the context of your words incredibly interesting given the last thing he knew of your and Tae’s relationship was that it had been severed when Taehyung had tried to kiss you in your brother’s room.

"Oh? Is that so?" Hoseok mused cheekily causing Taehyung to send him a glare.

"It's... uh, no big deal." Taehyung dismissed easily, ignoring the way his friend was staring at him suggestively.

"So," Jimin spoke up once more, "are they just regular brownies or...?"

"For fuck's sake, Jimin, they're not weed brownies!" Hoseok laughed, causing the shorter boy to huff.

"What makes you think that's why I was asking? I could have a nut allergy for all you know." Jimin defended.

Taehyung blinked, "You don't have a nut allergy?"

"Yeah, I don't." He admitted, turning to you with a boyish smile.

"They're just regular brownies. Sorry to disappoint." You laughed, setting the container down onto the counter.

"Don’t sweat it. I’m still stoked." Jimin shrugged, walking over to pry open the container. "Free food is free food.”

And with that, the three boys finally began to dig in and you watched cautiously as they did so, hoping that at least some of your mother’s baking ability had been passed down to you.

"These are ace!" Was your eventual reassurance, coming from a satisfied looking Jimin, who shot you a thumbs up with his unoccupied hand.

Taehyung and Hoseok made noises of agreement, mouths too full to verbally agree.

“Aren’t you gonna have one?” Jimin pressed, shoving his mouth with the remaining piece of his brownie.

“They’re really good, Y/N.” Hoseok added.

You shook your head, “Oh no, I don’t really care too much for sweets. I just know Taehyung loves the recipe my family uses.”

Taehyung's head turned towards you, swallowing down the food in his mouth harshly as he looked at you in surprise.

“I didn’t know you knew that.” He admitted, licking his lips clean. You tucked your hands into the pockets of your skirt, a familiar memory creeping into your brain.

“I remember one Sunday night when you were sleeping over my mom made brownies and you ate like eight pieces. And then, when you thought everyone was sleeping, you snuck back into the kitchen for more.”

Taehyung’s eyes went as wide as saucers, “Wait, hold on... you knew about that?”

Honestly, this was the first time Taehyung had thought back on the moment in years but he remembered it vividly. Slipping out of bed without waking up a sleeping Jungkook and tiptoeing past you and your parent’s room felt like mission possible at the time and he was under the impression that he had gotten away with it.

“Yep. I heard you walk past my room. I got curious so I followed you into the kitchen and watched you pig out.” You laughed heartily, your ponytail swaying side to side as you did so.

“You watched me?!”

“I was always watching you.” You admitted coolly, picking up a brownie crumb from the container lid and plopping it into your mouth.

“That sounds... kind of creepy, Jeon.” Hoseok muttered, flashing you a concerned look.

You shrugged, leaning your hip against the counter.

“I was a kid and, well, I wasn’t exactly allowed to just go up and talk to Blondie. Jungkook would’ve literally killed me if he found out that I had a cru–”

Cutting your sentence off abruptly, you cleared your throat, oblivious to the way Taehyung had gone stiff, heart in his throat.

“Anyway, where were you guys with the trial?” You turned towards Hoseok, face burning as you change the topic onto the debate that was taking place before you arrived.

Holy shit.

You had a crush on Taehyung?

He felt like he had been dunked into an ice-cold pool; was it really possible that you ever saw Taehyung the way he still saw you?

He exhaled in disbelief, tucking a hand into his jeans.

He could die of happiness. They could bury him six feet under and it wouldn’t phase him in the slightest. It didn’t even matter that you no longer felt the same way. Just knowing that his one-sided love for you wasn’t always so one-sided was fulfilling enough.

Then again… he could be wrong. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. You hadn’t finished your sentence, after all, you could’ve gone on to say any number of things. He was probably just overthinking like he always did. He spent nearly every second of his teenage years watching you, he would’ve noticed if you had any sort of feelings towards him... Right?

Your face felt like it was on fire. Worst yet, you could feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. He wasn’t saying a word and it made your chest feel tight.

“Oh. That. Whatever, I retract my statement, let Hobi have this win.” Jimin shrugged, too concerned with grabbing a second brownie to keep the debate going.

“Wait, really?” Hoseok frowned, suspicion gleaming in his eyes.

“Sure. If you say The Exorcist is scarier, then it's scarier.” Jimin concluded, moving to bite into his brownie.

“Right on!” Hoseok laughed, throwing an arm over the shoulders of his passive best friend suddenly.

The action took Jimin by surprise as he was yanked into Hoseok’s side, a small noise of disappointment escaping his lips as he lost grip of his brownie and it flopped onto the floor.

Hoseok showed no indication that he even noticed, his cocky grin persisting.

“This is why I keep you around, you know.” Hoseok teased. “What’s that you always say? Get laid, don’t fight?”

“Make love, not war.” Jimin grumbled, still mourning the loss of his fallen snack.

“Same shit.” Hoseok dismissed, turning towards Taehyung. “So then, your honor, what’s the final verdict?”

Maybe if Taehyung weren’t so preoccupied with staring at you, then he would have heard Hoseok’s call, but it wasn’t like he had much of choice. You were staring down at your shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, bottom lip tucked in between your teeth as you appeared lost in thought.

“Tae? Anyone home?” Jimin laughed, finally pulling the blond out of his Y/N focused trance.

“Huh?” Taehyung replied.

Something both of his friends never gave Hoseok enough credit for was his ability to read people. So the moment he laid eyes on Taehyung staring at you like a love-struck puppy, he knew he had to do something to help.

“Actually… I think it’s about time Jimin and I headed out.” Hoseok announced suddenly, glancing down at his watch lazily.

“What? Why?” Jimin turned towards Hoseok in confusion.

“Yeah, what? You guys can stay until closing, you know that.” Taehyung added.

"You mean stay and have to help you clean and close up shop? Nah, man.” Hoseok scoffed, waving off the idea with a hand.

“Listen, I’m sure you and Y/N have lots of other nostalgic brownie stories to reminisce on.” Hoseok turned to meet Jimin’s eyes. “Besides, Jimin and I have stuff to do. Isn’t that right, Jimin?”

Jimin blinked, unsure of what was happening but knowing Hoseok well enough not to question whatever scheme he had cooking up.

“Uh… yeah! Lots of things. You know us, busy busy! People call us the busy boys, you know.”

Taehyung squinted, recognizing the boy’s awkward rambling as his attempt to lie. While Hoseok had a real knack for trouble, Jimin was just not cut out for such mischief.

“No one calls you guys that.” Taehyung pointed out flatly.

“Well, they should.” Hoseok chimed in, pulling the flustered hippie towards the door.

“Guys–”

"Check ya later, Tae!" The older boy called out, the door’s bell harmonizing with his goodbye. Taehyung frowned.

“Bye, Tae. It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Thanks for the brownies!” Jimin added, flashing you both a wide smile before the front door closed shut, leaving Taehyung alone with you.

There was a record playing somewhere in the back of the room. You remembered hearing it when you first arrived but forgot all about it once you began to speak to Taehyung and his friends.

It sounded somewhat familiar, but not familiar enough for you to pin down a title. You thought you recognized the artist– The Isley Brothers, maybe?

You crossed your arms as you listened briefly, opening your mouth to ask Taehyung before shutting it before you got the chance.

Taehyung was doing that nervous sleeve thing, you noted.

God, this was so awkward. You had to say something. Maybe you should clear up what you meant earlier.

“Hey, I’m–”

“Do you–’”

The two of you spoke in unison, surprising each other. Taehyung felt his shoulders relax as you burst out into light giggles, clearing finding amusement in the situation. Your laugh could lift any mood, he was sure.

“You go first.” Taehyung insisted happily.

Things were okay, you realized. There was no need to go back and dwell on things that would just make things complicated.

You shook your head, “No, nothing, I just… Your friends are nice. I like them. I miss that feeling.”

“What feeling?”

“Being surrounded by friends, I guess. I don’t really have any. I miss hanging out with people.” You shrugged.

Automatically, Taehyung flashed you a sympathetic look. You knew it was a normal response and that it came from kindness but it made you feel uneasy. You were far too used to people looking at you with pity.

“So.” You say, clearing your throat.

“So.” Taehyung countered.

“What were you going to say?” You asked.

“Huh?”

“Before I interrupted you, what were you going to say?” You reminded. A look of remembrance flashed onto Taehyung’s face before a lopsided smile crept onto his face.

You cocked your head at his expression, raising an eyebrow as you awaited his next words.

“Do you want Burger King?”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Yes, I know I should have called sooner.” You sighed, listening to your frantic mother’s voice seeping through the phone.

“Mom, I–”

Your eyes flickered over your shoulder, meeting a worried-looking Taehyung who was holding a fry up to his mouth. You stuck your tongue out at him, hoping to lighten up the mood.

He could hear your mother’s muffled but clipped voice through his house phone. Naturally, after the two of you picked up food, you found yourself back at Taehyung’s house to eat it. It wasn’t until you had finished your meal that you realized you hadn’t come back home as scheduled and that your parents were most likely furious.

Despite Taehyung’s efforts to get you home in one piece the other day, your lack of change in clothes clued them in on the fact that you hadn’t gone out to spend the night at a friend's like you had claimed.

One heated confrontation later and the truth of your excursion came to light. Your mother had broken down into tears when you told her that Taehyung had found you drunk and alone on the side of the road; as far as your parents were concerned, you had stopped such reckless behavior years ago.

You let your mother ramble over the phone for a bit before finally explaining yourself.

“Mom. I’m at Taehyung’s.” You explained. Your words were met with a brief pause on your mother’s end and Taehyung quirked his head in confusion.

Something he couldn’t hear must have been said, however, as a satisfied grin took over your face and you bid your mother a light-hearted goodbye, promising you’d call when you were on the way back home.

At the sound of the line going dead and you putting the earpiece back into the phone, Taehyung spoke up.

“Everything okay?”

“Mm? Oh yeah. All it took was mentioning you and her whole tune changed.” You nodded, walking over to where Taehyung was sat on his couch.

The blond boy flashed you a toothy grin.

“Really? That’s all it took?”

You laughed.

“Are you kidding? Your every parent’s dream kid. Kind, responsible, hard-working... Man, they love you, Taehyung.”

Suddenly, a pensive look fell over you as you appeared to get lost in thought.

“It’s hard not to.” You sighed finally, grabbing a fry from Taehyung’s plate and popping it into your mouth casually.

He wasn’t sure what to make of your words but warmth found his face all the same.

Lately, it felt like he was always finding double meaning in your words and he wasn’t sure if they were purposeful or if he was just getting more and more desperate to paint the narrative that you somehow loved him too. He had to force himself to push back such ideas, his own selfish desires too much for his fragile heart to endure.

“Taehyung?”

Realizing that you had been standing while he sat all this time, Taehyung stood up suddenly. It was an awkward repositioning but you paid it no mind, your next words clearly weighing heavily on your mind.

"What would've happened if my parents didn't come home that day?”

Taehyung froze. He opened his mouth to respond but thankfully shut it right away, needing a moment to collect himself.

The question had blind-sighted him; he had spent the better half of the past three days trying not to think about the unfortunate event that went down in Jungkook’s bedroom.

He’d never stop hating himself for that moment.

Still, he wasn’t sure what to make of your question. He allowed for a few more moments of wordlessness before he decided that answering honestly would be his best bet.

Tucking his hands into his pockets, he swallowed harshly. "I probably would have kissed you."

He had no doubt he was blushing, especially with the way your eyes refused to pull away from his face.

"To comfort me?”

"I, uh… No."

“Then, why?” You pressed.

Taehyung bit down on his lip, wondering just how honest to be with you right now. Was this how he was going to admit that he had been in love with you all these years?

He shook his head.

“I just… wanted to.” He admitted, before continuing hurriedly, “B-But I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking– seriously, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of such a vulnerable moment. I’m really, really sorry. I should’ve apologized sooner.”

You nodded.

“It's okay. I’d just prefer if you didn’t, you know, try to kiss me in my dead brother’s bedroom.”

Taehyung grimaced at your words, offering you an awkward laugh and sheepish smile, “Yeah… Definitely not the right time or place.”

Taehyung felt like he could breathe easier now knowing you hadn’t looked too deeply into the attempted kiss. Hopefully, this meant things could stop being so awkward between you two and things could go back to the way they were before. He missed having you around.

“Um…”

Taehyung’s thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of one of your hands reaching out and gripping onto the fabric of his sleeve, much like the way he would himself when he was nervous. He glanced down at the gesture, eyes wide at your proximity.

"We’re not in his room anymore." Your words were muttered lowly, as if suddenly shy.

Taehyung blinked.

What?

Did that mean what he thought it did? Did you just imply that he could kiss you? Or did he just fail to wake up this morning and was stuck in another one of his sad, pining dreams about you?

Gaze fixated on where your fingers were still wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve, you were unable to meet his eyes.

"Huh?" Taehyung replied, simply because he couldn't conjure up a single intelligent thought.

Your eyes met his for a moment before flickering away once again, brows furrowed.

"My parents aren't here either so..."

Taehyung's heart was banging against his chest as if wanting to lurch right out of it and offer itself to you as you were its rightful owner.

No way.

There was just no way the girl he had been in love with since he was fifteen was standing in front of him asking him to kiss her.

“I'm... Are you–"

"Geez, Blondie." You cut him off, voice pitched high at the thought of having to repeat it. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

If it were in any other situation, the tone in your voice would have suggested that you were angry, but the way you tugged at his sleeve let him know you weren't upset, but rather just incredibly embarrassed, unable to express directly just how much you wanted Taehyung to kiss you.

To your surprise, instead of Taehyung awkwardly stuttering out an apology, two large palms found either side of your face, forcing you to look back over at him. Before your eyes even got the chance to make contact with his, however, his mouth found yours, eliciting a small noise of surprise from the back of your throat.

The kiss was everything you imagined a kiss from Taehyung would feel like.

Soft. Gentle. Perfect.

His mouth felt warm against yours, distracting you from the subtle way his hands trembled. Despite the way your mouths moved against each other cautiously, still unfamiliar with such intimacy, something about the exchange felt natural, as if the two of you were always meant to embrace each other like this. And as Taehyung pulled away, you let that thought run through your mind, his warm eyes holding yours.

Silence rang between the two of you; Taehyung bit onto the inside of his cheek, waiting for you to say something but neither of you could seem to work up the nerve.

“Should I not have done that?” He spoke finally, heart in his throat.

“Probably not.” You murmured, still slightly dazed from the kiss.

Suddenly, you placed a hand against his chest, the faint pounding of his heart kissing your palm. Part of you was thrilled to see that the kiss had affected him as much as it had you, but there was also a part of you— a bitter one— that knew that taking this any further would be unfair to Taehyung.

Something told you that if you asked Taehyung for his heart that he’d give it to you, that he was just that kind, and that scared the hell out of you. Taehyung deserved a hell of a lot more than the selfish little sister of his dead best friend.

Sure, you did your best to paint a pretty picture but that didn’t negate the parts of you that were monstrously ugly.

When Jungkook first died, you picked up drinking; weekends usually blurring by as you drifted through the days without regard. You used to think it helped, that drinking all night only to wake up the next morning still just as intoxicated would silence your screaming thoughts of self-loathing, but you came to find out quickly that alcohol was merely a temporary novocaine.

That’s when you turned to sex. It was usually coupled with alcohol, having had realized that inebriation was a great crutch to cling onto the next morning when you hated yourself for your actions.

You weren’t exactly sure when the thought process behind it manifested but you had turned to nameless faces and their bodies to help make you feel desired as you couldn’t love yourself. Whenever friends would raise their concerns, you would brush them off with a clipped tone, claiming that you were merely having fun, oblivious to the fact that all your self-worth was stemming from how many people you could lure into bed with you.

Both reckless behaviors were meaningless attempts at filling a void you refused to acknowledge and if it weren’t for your parents eventually stepping in, there’s no telling just how bad things could have gotten.

You and Jungkook were similar in that aspect, you suppose. Both Jeon siblings having had their tendencies for self-loathing and self-destruction, only Jungkook ended up a corpse on your bathroom floor while you got to walk away without a scratch.

Sometimes, when your mind got particularly dark, you wondered why Jungkook was dead and not you. Why were you the one who had to remain alive, damned to hold up the crushing burden of being the living sibling?

With your brother dead, you had to stay alive— not just for your parents, but for Jungkook as well. If you were going to be chosen as the Jeon sibling that lived then you couldn’t go and destroy your life, not when Jungkook had lost his.

So you tried your best to clean up your act.

You cut off all ties to your old habits and old friends; it was lonely sometimes but you were sober and your parents were happy, and so were you for the most part. Denial became your coping mechanism and any sadness you felt towards your brother passing morphed into anger, forcing you to detach yourself from him altogether.

It was healthier than the other ways you had tried to cope but it was still just a temporary numbing solution, one which Taehyung had wiped away easily, which is why you had turned once again to alcohol and sex. Thankfully, Taehyung found you on the side of the road that night.

“Y/N?” Taehyung called out, watching the way your expression had darkened. You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes flickering up to meet his.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t do this to you. Let’s stop.”

Taehyung frowned, “Do what to me?”

Taehyung looked so incredibly confused that you found yourself looking away, unable to face him.

“I know you care about me which is why we shouldn’t go any further than this.”

Taehyung felt his heart sink into his stomach. Was kissing you a mistake? It didn’t feel like one but you couldn’t even meet his eyes so he knew something was wrong.

You let your hands fall off his chest before continuing.

“I… I care about you. You mean a lot to me, probably more than you know, which is why I won’t risk you getting hung up on someone like me.”

He could see the way you had begun to shrink; you were standing in front of him like you were insufficient and frail when he knew you weren’t any of those things.

“Someone like you? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not the girl you think I am. I’m not the girl you knew when we were kids anymore. I’m bitter and angry and have got so much baggage– I’m not going to put you through carrying any of that. You deserve a lot better than that.” You explained, hating yourself for the way your voice was wavering.

Once again, you were crying in front of Taehyung and you couldn’t stand it.

“Y/N, c’mon—”

“I’m serious!” You cried, hands shaking. “I used to drink myself numb and I slept around with so many people— the majority of them whose faces I don’t even remember —and I’ve hurt and pushed away everyone who's ever cared about me and just— fuck, Blondie! I’m a fucking shitty person!”

“No, you’re not.” Taehyung said quietly, hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“I know you, Y/N. Maybe you’re not the girl who dances in her room or reads teen magazines anymore but you’re still the girl who wears yellow stockings and bakes me brownies just because she remembered I liked them.”

As his thumb ran over your wet cheek, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry so you did both, once again crumbling under his touch.

“You’re more than just a series of bad decisions. You’re hurting and you’re doing it alone when you shouldn’t have to. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for and,” Taehyung swallowed roughly, losing footing of his voice, “And you deserve better too, dammit. You deserve so much more.”

There were only a few things Taehyung couldn’t forgive himself for, and leaving you by yourself after Jungkook died was one of them. He knew what it felt like to sink back into the dark place he was in after his best friend’s death but he had his parents and his friends to pull him back out– it made his heart heavy to think that you had been drowning in that lonely limbo this whole time.

“You don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to do this on your own. You’re not made out of stone, Y/N, you’re human. It’s okay to rely on others and accept help and love and everything we think we're not worthy of.”

Taehyung could see the way his words were hitting your skin; he could see the way you flinched as if you couldn't believe them but the way your watery eyes held onto his told him that you wanted to.

“Don’t push me away.” He pleaded finally, voice firm but tender all the same.

You wish you could’ve told him straight up that you wouldn’t, but your mouth was void of any and all words as you answered him with a kiss, hoping for it to say everything you thought Taehyung deserved to hear.

The kisses grew more heated and emotions became intertwined and there was a small voice eating away at the back of your mind telling you that you didn’t deserve this, that you didn’t deserve him. Even as the two of you found yourself in Taehyung’s bedroom, laid out on his bed, the voice persisted, silenced only by the sound of Taehyung speaking suddenly.

“Is this okay? For me to kiss you like this?” Taehyung asked, breathing heavy as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip nervously.

You fought back the blush that wanted to make its way onto your skin, the question catching you off guard as there wasn’t any need for it in the first place. You wanted Taehyung to do far more than just kiss you. Taehyung had you pinned underneath him, your legs parted by his thigh as he hovered over you, and you were alight with an insatiable need for him.

Your fingers found his glasses; they were struggling to hold onto his face as he stared down at you. Gently, you took them off, chest tightening as Taehyung’s eyes widened at your action.

“Taehyung.” You cooed, eyes flickering to his lips. You wondered if their red color mirrored yours right now.

Taehyung wanted so badly to kiss you again but the last thing he wanted to do was to push things in a direction you weren’t comfortable with.

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.” You murmured, causing Taehyung’s heart – among other parts of him – to stir.

A small sound of surprised content escaped you as Taehyung’s mouth found your neck, wasting little time as he began to bruise the delicate skin there. He wasn’t being nearly as gentle as you imagined he would, taking your skin between his teeth before soothing over the bite with a soft flick of his tongue before moving to another spot.

His fingertips were running up and down your sides frustratingly; it was a side of Taehyung you had never seen and it excited you to no end, small whimpers and sighs falling from you.

Taehyung was in absolute bliss– he had the girl he had been in love with for years laid out underneath him, panting his name as he marking you as his, loving the way your hips were rutting up, not so subtly trying to grind against his thigh.

He felt it too, of course; the strain of his aching cock pressing against his pants becoming harder and harder to ignore, and before he could think to ask, he moved between your legs, urging your skirt up to your waist so that he could grind into you.

A low grunt left his mouth as he began to rock into you, your soft whines only edging him on. But he knew there were far too many layers separating the two of you.

“Why don’t… Why don’t you go ahead and take some clothes off?” Taehyung suggested, slightly caught up in the feeling of your legs tightening around his hips.

You let out a small huff, not because you didn’t like the idea but because he had stilled his motions. As lovely as the friction was, it wasn’t nearly enough to get you where you wanted. You sat back up on your elbows.

“Should I leave the yellow stockings on for nostalgia’s sake?” You joked dryly. You hadn’t meant it seriously, of course, you were hoping to elicit a laugh from Taehyung but to your surprise, his response was anything but humorous.

His palm came down onto your covered thigh, moving forward to bring his mouth to your ear.

“Unless you want a few new rips in them, I’d suggest you take them off as well.” He hummed darkly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

A grin found Taehyung’s face as he leaned back away from you, watching as your expression fell into one of surprise, clearly not expecting such a forward statement from him.

Flustered, you began to undress clumsily, struggling to do so as the feeling of Taehyung pressing kisses against your jaw was incredibly distracting.

Where the hell did this surge of confident from Taehyung come from and why the hell was it so hot?

The second you finally freed yourself from your garments, you threw a leg over his lap, forcing him back down onto the bed.

Your fingers found his shirt without so much as a second thought, undoing the buttons of his shirt as you began to trail hot kisses down his chest. A low sound emerged from Taehyung’s chest and if you had any shame whatsoever, you might have felt embarrassment as the sound caused your panties to dampen.

His skin was soft and you let your tongue trace the ridges of his abdomen. You imagined you might have stopped to press some more permanent marks on his skin if you didn’t have another destination in mind, hand slipping down further and further.

For the second time today, Taehyung wondered if dreaming; you were sat up on his lap in nothing but your panties, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath, hand rubbing over Taehyung’s clothed cock lightly.

Taehyung let out a groan, causing you to smirk.

“Poor, Blondie. Bet you’re dying to get out of these pants, huh?” You teased, applying more pressure to your touch.

“Fuck, Y/N. You really are such a tease.” Taehyung hissed, thrusting up to meet your touch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied innocently, cocking your head one side to truly sell the act.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna give you five seconds to stop that little game you’re trying to play with me and lay back down on the bed.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m going to cum in my pants and, fuck, I’d really much rather cum inside of you.”

You paused your actions begrudgingly, realizing you also would rather him cum inside you. You crawled off him and laid back beside him as instructed.

“Good girl.” He praised, kissing one of your bare breasts, causing you to whine. “Why don’t you let me play with you now, hm?”

One of Taehyung’s hands was quick to make its way between your legs, wasting no time to drag this out any longer.

“Oh, fuck.” He hissed, middle fingering running up and down your clothed slit. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his actions earning him a sharp inhale of his name.

“Sweetheart, you’re so wet.” Taehyung cooed. “We only just started too.”

“D-Don’t tease me.” Your voiced hiccuped slightly as the tip of his finger found your clit, rubbing at the swollen pearl lightly. Taehyung laughed, pressing a peck against your bottom lip that was jutting out slightly.

You took advantage of the moment immediately, hand reaching out to slip into Taehyung’s hair so you could deepen the kiss. You could feel him smile into the kiss, clearly pleased with how desperate you were for him.

The feeling of one of Taehyung’s long fingers sinking into you caused you to grasp, pulling away from the kiss as his fingers ministrations began to occupy all your attention.

Taehyung admired you from his spot beside you, watching the way your face scrunched up and you threw your head back as one finger became two.

“You’re so pretty like this, baby.” He found himself purring into your ear, head too clouded with the sounds of your moans to hold himself back.

“God, I... fuck.” Was your intelligent response, hand clasped around his wrist as his motions began to quicken.

Your thighs were beginning to shake, the obscene sound of Taehyung’s fingers entering your wet pussy filling the room.

A particularly hard rub against your clit sent out a chirp of his name, pulling Taehyung away from your breasts, where he had temporarily fixed his attention.

“You need something?” He teased, flicking his tongue against your nipple frustratingly.

You let out a groan, sending Taehyung a glare as a sharp wave of pleasure ran through you, causing your spine to arch.

And just like that, his fingers were pulled off you, evoking a small cry of disappointment from your lips. The kiss that followed, however, was enough to silence your protest, Taehyung moving to rest in between your hips again, only this time, he fumbled to take off his jeans.

“I’m going to make love to you, sweet girl. Is that okay?” He asked as he freed himself of his garments.

Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, swollen and red-tipped, and you nearly begged for him to fuck you right then and there.

You nodded eagerly, eyes still fixated on Taehyung’s newly revealed state. You bit down on your bottom lip, insides fluttering with desire as Taehyung adjusted himself, rubbing the length of his cock against your sopping center.

A small cry left your lips as he finally entered you and Taehyung knew he was absolutely ruined, wrecked by the way your warm, velvet walls wrapped around him.

“F-Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Taehyung was absolutely beside himself as he began to rock into you, moaning as you took every inch of him, profanities spilling from your swollen lips.

You jolted as his thumb found your clit, clearly set on getting you to cum.

“That feel good?” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your collarbone cheekily.

Your eyes were shut, overwhelmed by the feeling of Taehyung filling you, bringing you closer and closer to your climax with every rock of his hips and fingers.

“So... ah, so good.” You whimpered, voice trembling as you tried to meet every one of Taehyung’s thrusts.

Taehyung was close to his own release, balls tightening as he relished in how well you took his cock and how pretty his name sounded falling off your tongue like that. You were so beautiful– your chest and neck glistening lightly with sweat, breathing labored as you entirely lost yourself in the sensations being sent your way.

“Taehyung, I–”

Your sentence was cut short as your orgasm washed over you, a broken whine leaving your lips. Taehyung hardly had time to admire the lovely way your body was shuddering in pleasure when his own orgasm hit him, your walls tightened around him as he coated your walls with hot spurts of cum.

Tangled sounds of pants and whimpers fell between the two of you as you both came down from your highs.

“You okay?” Taehyung spoke finally as he pulled out of you.

You let out a sigh at the feeling, suddenly empty. You offered a nod in response, not trust your voice to respond to him verbally. Taehyung laid down beside you, gesturing for you to come closer; the cold of his room had suddenly caught up with you both as you huddled into one another for warmth.

Your head found itself on Taehyung’s chest, listening to the way his breathing evened out with post-coital bliss.

His fingertips were running along the length of your bare arm as the two of you lay there, causing light goosebumps to pull at your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” Taehyung said suddenly, sensing the melancholy that lingered in the air.

You didn't respond immediately, taking a few moments to yourself before pulling yourself up to face Taehyung.

"I was thinking about my family and how they'd react if I told them about us." You admitted.

"My parents would be thrilled. Both of them. Dad has always seen you like a second son and if my mom were twenty years younger, she would've snatched you up herself."

Taehyung let out a contemplative hum, "And Jungkook?"

It was the question that was weighing on both your minds. There was a small prickling feeling of guilt there as if the two of you were doing something behind his back, even though he was gone.

"I'm not sure."

“I think Jungkook would kill me if he knew I slept with you.” Taehyung admitted honestly, his frows furrowing ever so slightly.

“Probably.” You nodded before pausing. “But he would’ve forgiven you.”

“You think?”

“Are you kidding? You were his favorite person, he never shut up about you.” You chuckled, laying back down beside him.

“You’re a good guy, Blondie. I think that’s why he liked you so much. Everything became so bad so quickly but you stayed good. You never left his side. You always had his best interests in mind, even when he didn’t deserve it.” You yawned, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

Suddenly, Taehyung’s expression fell into an unreadable one, the room’s atmosphere growing heavy as his aura suddenly darkened. Your eyes ran down his profile as he stared off across the room, clearly deep in thought.

“I knew.” He said finally, voice small.

“You knew what?”

“The drugs. I knew.” He clarified, turning his head towards you.

“I didn’t know exactly what he was using but I knew something was wrong. And I didn’t say anything. I hate myself every day for nothing saying something.” Taehyung confided solemnly.

You turned away towards him, silence fell over the two of you. You didn't know what to say– the idea that Taehyung wasn't this perfect, happy human completely throwing you off guard. Not once did you think to consider how Taehyung had dealt and continued to deal with the death of his best friend. You contemplated his words for a moment.

Shifting slightly, you moved further down the bed, letting your head rest on his chest once again.

“How do you live with yourself?”

Your question wasn’t malicious in any sense. No. It was pure, unadulterated curiosity that prompted it and Taehyung was felt a quiet feeling of relief in that fact that you hadn't dwelled on his confession any further than needed. You held no judgment in your tone, but rather a desire to understand, undoubtedly stemming from the need to replicate the answer for yourself.

“I learned to forgive myself.” He said before pausing.

“I learned to forgive him.” He added after a moment of silent contemplation.

You frowned, letting your eyelids fall shut.

"I can't. Not yet, at least." You confessed wistfully.

Taehyung let out a hum, "That's okay. I didn't know at first."

“So what did you do before you found yourself at that point?”

You could hear Taehyung's sigh through his chest, it was soft and reverberated lowly.

“I looked for the things that made me happy. The music, the people– you just gotta keep on keepin’ on. It'll start to hurt a little bit less every day until one day you'll wake up to find that the good outweighs the bad.”

"You're a good." You said suddenly, catching Taehyung by surprise.

"Huh?"

You lifted your head, turning it so that you could face him.

"The bad is heavy and it hurts but... you're definitely a good." You murmured gently. "You're my good, Blondie."

Taehyung didn't care that he was blushing or that you could probably feel the way his heart rate had spiked because, as you leaned over to kiss him, all he could find himself caring about was the fact that he was your good and that you were his too.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"You're a sneaky little minx, you know that, right? I gave in that time but now I seriously have to go." Taehyung sighed, causing you to frown.

Taehyung had been taking a shower, on his way to get ready for his morning shift at Rose's when a certain someone slipping into his shower had extended his time spent in there tenfold, unable to resist your advances.

The two of you were in towels now; your fooling around in the shower now over.

"Nooo." You whined. "Stay."

You had pulled Taehyung into an embrace, your arms snaking around his waist as you propped up onto your toes and pressed kisses onto his collar bone.

The nature of the kisses seemed harmless, but with the way two of you had spent all night, and now morning, Taehyung knew that things would only escalate from here.

"As much as I'd love to make love to you all day, I'm needed at the record shop." He stated decidedly, causing you to pull your mouth away from his skin.

"Can you call in sick?" You moped childishly. Taehyung shook his head no, chuckling as he leaned over to place a chaste kiss against your mouth.

"Seven years, Blondie! We were robbed of seven years together. We deserve to be going at it like rabbits." You looked up at him through your lashes, a sour pout on your lips.

The blond boy let out an abrupt laugh as if he wasn't expecting those words to leave your mouth.

"So dramatic." He hummed teasingly.

Despite his words, the truth was he couldn't agree more and if it weren't his moral obligation to his job, then he would gladly spend the day with you in bed.

You tilted your head in contemplation, "Has it not been seven years since you first started liking me?"

You felt Taehyung physically stiffen against you, and it suddenly occurred to you that Taehyung was still under the impression that you had no idea about his childhood crush on you.

"You knew?!" Taehyung gaped, mouth falling ajar slightly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Of course I knew."

"Wha– How? For how long?" Taehyung pressed, voice rising in pitch. You tried your hardest to suppress your amused smile, enjoying the way he was growing increasingly flustered.

"Well... you trying to kiss me in Jungkook's room was a huge giveaway," You laughed, "but I think I figured it out when you talked about the purple streaks I put in my hair."

At your confession, Taehyung frowned, clearly not understanding. You pulled away from him, letting out a sigh as you accepted the fact that you weren't going to convince Taehyung not to go to work any time soon.

"You told me Jungkook liked my purple hair."

Taehyung paused for a moment, digesting your words. He nodded slowly; it was a lie he had told you in an attempt to comfort you. He should have figured it would come back to bite him in the ass.

"... Yeah?"

"I dyed my hair after he died." You revealed, leaning back against the bathroom sink.

Taehyung thought back to Jungkook's funeral, trying to make sense of where his memories had gotten muddled.

You were right, of course.

Your entire family was dressed in all black, as were you. But sprinkled throughout your hair were bright streaks of indigo, contrasting almost purposely against the dark and gloomy day. Taehyung remembered thinking it suited you; the color was just as vibrant as you were, even if you remained silent and solemn the entire time.

"I dyed it the night before Jungkook’s funeral actually. I couldn’t fall asleep so my mom went out with me to buy the supplies and she helped me do it. It was a nice distraction for both of us." You remembered, your expression slightly melancholic. "Jungkook never got to see my hair. But you did.”

Taehyung's cheeks grew pink. "Not everything I told you was a lie. Everything I said before that really was Jungkook."

You nodded, a small smile visible, "Thank you for that by the way. Whether it was you or Jungkook saying those things, it meant a lot."

The corner of Taehyung's lips curled upwards.

"What about when we were younger? Did you know I liked you back then?" He wondered innocently.

"Thinking back on it now, it was kind of obvious that you did but I think I was too concerned with feelings for you to notice." You admitted through a laugh.

"So, you did have a crush on me?" Taehyung asked, a wide smile of disbelief growing on his face. You nodded shyly.

“You think I bugged you guys for all those years because I enjoyed Jungkook telling me to fuck off?” You grinned lightly. “I did it because I wanted to spend time with you.”

"I still do." You reminded him of the conversation's previous topic, pointing a finger against his naked chest.

Taehyung was absolutely buzzing, his chest full of pride at knowing that you had liked him all this time. If there were a cloud higher than cloud nine then he'd be on it– Hell, he'd be king of it.

Suddenly, the gravity beneath your feet shifted as you were scooped up in Taehyung's arms, a loud squeal of surprise leaving you.

"What are you doing?!" You laughed, arms scrambling to better hold onto Taehyung in case he accidentally dropped you.

"Screw work, I'm about to make your teenage dreams are coming true, baby." He grinned cheesily as he laid you back down onto his bed, laughter all but breaking the kisses the two of you began to exchange.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Are you okay?” Taehyung spoke finally.

You bit down onto your lip, contemplating your next words carefully.

“I feel dumb.”

Taehyung let out a sigh, “Y/N…”

“Sorry, sorry. I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” You replied, causing him to shrug.

“Just do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Your hands found one another as you let those words sink in for a moment before nodding, ultimately sinking down onto your knees, the damp grass wetting the knees of your jeans.

“Hey, shrimp brain.” You began cautiously.

The headstone you spoke to was a light grey. Granite. There was a toss-up between granite and marble but you remembered that your parents had decided on granite.

“It’s, uh, me. I’m sorry we haven’t... talked." You frowned, still unfamiliar with the idea of talking to your dead brother's headstone.

It was actually your idea, but if it weren't for Taehyung's reassurance – and car – you would have never actually made it here.

Part of you feared that this was a mistake, some useless waste of time, but the larger part of you knew this was something you needed to do. Something you should have done a long time ago.

"I’m sorry for a lot of things actually.” You began, fingers intertwining themselves.

Laid out in front of the tombstone were a bunch of wilting flowers, undoubtedly placed there by your mother. They were sad to look at and you knew that in just a few days they would be replaced with new ones, but you couldn't help but feel Jungkook would've liked them this way. Taehyung thought so too, noting it complimented Jungkook's fashion sense as a teenager.

“Blondie and I are together now. And before you freak out, you should know that I’ve always liked him. I sometimes kinda feel like you already knew that but yeah. I hope you’re okay with that because he makes me really happy." You found yourself smiling before continuing. "I hope you're happy and blasting Jimi Hendrix... wherever you are.”

Suddenly, you felt a wave of emotion roll over you, taking you by surprise. It wasn't any kind of overwhelming anger or sadness like you usually felt, but just a slow melancholy, the kind that brought tears to your eyes but still let you hold onto your breathing.

“I know being sappy was never really our thing but I just wanted to say... that I miss you. And I love you. I’m sorry I never told you that while you were still around.”

A few moments of silence ticked by, filled only by the occasional chirp of a nearby bird, sat somewhere in one of the trees in the cemetery.

Taehyung watched as your frame began to shake slightly, placing a hand on your shoulder as he kneed down beside you.

“You’re okay. You’re doing great.” He cooed, his presence along helping to calm you down.

You sniffed, wiping your cheek dry with the back of your sleeve.

“But yeah. I hope you don’t mind if I swing by more often to bug you with some more one-sided conversations. Gotta uphold my title as the annoying little sister, after all.”

Taehyung let out a chuckle from beside you and that was all the reassurance you needed.

“I guess I’ll see ya later, shrimp brain.” You concluded finally, letting out a breath as you pushed yourself off your knees and back onto your feet.

Taehyung followed suit, eyes fixated on his best friend's gravestone.

"You really think he knew we liked each other?" He mused lightly.

"Going by what my mom said when I told her we were dating, literally everyone knew we liked each other." You laughed bitterly.

"Everyone but us, I guess." The blond boy laughed.

The sun had shifted its way behind a passing cloud then, and you couldn’t help but miss the warm feeling of it against your skin.

"What a bummer." You sighed, looking down at your brother's final resting place.

Taehyung tucked a hand into his pocket, watching the way you were standing beside him silently. He had a feeling that your words weren't just in regards to you and him anymore.

You heard the grass crunch as Taehyung moved, walking to stand behind you.

“It's not all bad."

You raised an eyebrow, opening your mouth to ask what he meant when you felt the weight on his chin rest against your shoulder.

"We found each other in the end." He said softly, causing your chest to tighten.

Because you too knew that this wasn't just about the two of you. Because although you had lost your brother, every day that you spent with Taehyung made me feel closer to your brother than you had ever been. The two of you would exchange memories of him, some of which you didn't even remember and some of which felt unimportant back then, but now brought you comfort. Sure, neither of you had a full picture of who Jungkook really was, but the pieces he had left behind finally made sense now that the two of you could hold them up beside one another.

And as Taehyung wrapped his arms around you, you let yourself sink back into his chest, for once not worried about feeling small or vulnerable.

"Yeah." You agreed, cheeks warm. "I guess we did."

[incorrect-spiderson]

Prompt 6 and 31 with Peter and Harley being brothers and dork 💜 and I wanted to know for how you have been writing? 💕

My boysssss!!! Anyways I have been writing for about 5 years?? It’s always been a passion of mine and I’m just now getting pretty good at it! So yeah!

Also, I wanted to explain a nickname that Harley uses for Peter! He calls him Peanut Butter because of his initials! P. B. P. I just thought it would be cute. Aaanyways enjoy!

🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁

If it was up to Pepper, they would be having date night on Christmas Eve. Just her and Tony, doing adult things. Though, she can’t ignore her momma bear instincts. She doesn’t want the kids alone on Christmas. Or ever, for that matter.

“HARLEY DID YOU PUT HAIR DYE IN MY SHAMPOO!”

That was her cue.

Pepper sets down her wine glass and starts towards the stairs. She drops the blanket off of her shoulders and goes after her boys. With each step she can more clearly hear their fighting.

“Pink looks good on you Peanut Butter.”

“Harley you absolute ass!”

“Oh it’s not that bad.”

“You’re the reason Santa even has a naughty list!”

“Really is that the best-”

As soon as Pepper opens the door, both boys freeze. Harley smirks triumphantly, leaning against the boys’ shared bunk bed. His ugly sweater reads “Santa’s favorite Ho”. Pepper turns to Peter and bites her lip. Her eyes widen and she tries (and fails) to hold back a chuckle. Peter is only wearing Morgan’s bright yellow banana towel. His pink curls clings to his face as he scowls at Harley.

Peter perks up a little bit and points to Harley. “Mom he dyed my hair pink! He is so, so lucky I’m going to pride in a few weeks otherwise I totally would have-”

Harley scoffs and pushes off of the bed. “Petey-Pie you wouldn’t’ve hurt a fly. Also, last week you filled my pillow with whipped cream.”

“The fly didn’t dye my hair pink! And the week before that you-”

Pepper holds up her hand and raises an eyebrow. The boys continue to go back and forth. Every few seconds, Pepper drops a finger. Peter catches on first and instantly stops.

“What? You ready to finally admit defeat PB?”

Peter slaps Harley’s arm and points to Pepper. Harley moves to hit him back but freezes. Once Harley realizes she’s on her last finger, he instead drops his hand and sighs. “Sorry Mom.”

Pepper smirks. “Okay, now that that’s settled, Harley go and check on dinner for me. Maybe start making the gravy. Peter go and help your dad set up the Christmas tree. He’s too short to get the star on the top without a ladder and you can walk on walls.”

Both boys sigh but mumble out agreements. Before Pepper leaves she peaks back through the door. “Oh and Petey... put on some clothes. It’s cold outside.”

Peter’s face instantly turns red as he sputters. Harley sprints out of the room in a fit of giggles, narrowly avoiding the pillow thrown at his head.

Pepper chuckles and shuts the door. Her boys truly are... something.

When May had passed away, they took Peter instantly. She can clearly remember the night when Peter showed up on their doorstep. It was storming outside, rain had been pounding against the window so hard she almost missed the knock at the door. Tony had been upstairs with Morgan, so she naturally answered it. What she hadn’t been expecting was the red, tear stained, soaking wet face of Peter Parker. Who had been clutching a familiar green sweater and a pair of circular glasses like his life depended on it.

To say the least, it had been a very, very long night.

Harley’s situation hadn’t been much better. Her and Tony had been watching Deadpool late at night when he got the call. Pepper couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but she could tell by the worry creases forming on Tony’s face that something was wrong. Suddenly, Tony had shoved the phone towards her while he pinched his nose to fight back tears. When she answered, to say she was surprised would be an understatement.

Harley had been in hysterics. She could barely tell what he was saying over his sobs. Until suddenly, his words had become crystal clear.

The Keeners were dead. Harley had been out with friends while his parents and little sister were grabbing ice cream. His family never made it home. In the same night Tony had gotten on a jet, flown to Tennessee at breakneck speeds, and only two hours after the call Harley was in her arms crying his heart out.

They’d both been through so damn much. Through things that teenage boys should never have to go through. Horrible, terrible things that people only hear about on the news and then never think of again. Every day she marvels at how much strength they both have.

“HARLEY KEENER I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST STEAL MY COOKIE! GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE-”

Pepper smiles. She couldn’t be happier that they’re here. The tragedies were awful and she wishes every day that they would have never happened. But now, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She loves her two boys with her entire being.

Pepper starts down the stairs, lazily sighing at the thought of getting back into her book and taking a sip of wine. She’s about half way down the stairs before she freezes.

Two boys.

Two of three kids.

Shit... where’s Morgan?

Pepper jogs back up the stairs and opens the door to her daughter’s room. She scans it quickly and then frantically moves on. She searches every room upstairs twice. Pepper gets ready to call for Tony when it hits her.

Literally.

“Ow! Shit..”

Pepper rubs her head where the Ironman action figure hit her. She gives a pained smile down to her little girl and shakes her head. “Sweetheart, if you throw things, please make sure they’re soft? Okay?”

Morgan’s face screws up in confusion. “But Momma, Ironman was wearing a tutu! Tutu’s are soft!”

Pepper glances down at the toy and realizes. Yes. Ironman is wearing a tutu. A bright pink tutu with little yellow and red sequins on it. Pepper picks up the toy and hands it back to Morgan. The little girl takes the toy and then wraps her arms around her mother’s neck.

Pepper sighs and lifts her daughter into her arms. “You’re lucky that you, little gremlin, happen to be acting more mature than your brothers right now.”

Morgan giggles and taps the action figure on Pepper’s shoulder. “Momma I always act more mature-er than them. They’re teenagers.”

Pepper laughs and starts down the stairs. “You aren’t wrong, gremlin. I think-”

“Oh god.. OH GOD! MOM HELP!”

Suddenly, everything else falls away. Pepper’s instincts take over and she’s racing down the stairs. She grips Morgan a little tighter and as soon as she hits the bottom of the stairs she sprints towards the living room. She’s .2 seconds away from calling her suit, then she pauses.

She had been expecting a lot of things. Burglars, Aliens, Ultron reincarnated. Hell, evil snowmen wouldn’t have been too surprising.

What she wasn’t expecting was her husband to be tangled up in tinsel while her son (who is stuck to the ceiling) is keeping the tree from falling on top of her tinsel-ified husband. Peter looks up (or is it down?) from his perch and sheepishly smiles.

“So uh... we had a slight problem.”

Pepper let’s out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. She puts Morgan on the ground and moves towards her husband. Tony smiles up at her mischievously.

“Hey hot stuff. All I need is a bow and-”

“Shush and let me get you out of there.”

After a few minutes of light bickering and un-tinseling, Tony is free. She helps put the tree back in place and turns back to Morgan.

“Sweetheart, it seems like you’re also more mature-er than daddy too.”

Tony’s face morphs into fake disgust. “Are you feeding our daughter lies? Pepper Potts-Stark, I thought you were better than that.”

Pepper just waves him off and starts towards the kitchen. “Whatever honey! Just try not to...”

Once again, Pepper freezes.

Harley is standing over the gravy. With green food dye. He spins to face her and his eyes widen. He glances back and forth from her to green gravy.

Once again, Pepper takes a deep breath. “Harley... Keener. Please. Please tell me you did not dye the gravy green.”

Harley purses his lips. “Well, I was raised not to lie-”

“BULLCRAP”, Peter chirps from the living room.

“- but yes. The gravy is now green.”

Pepper blinks. It’s just one thing after another with her family. “Okay, well... everyone come eat. Food is ready.”

Within two minutes the entire family is seated at the table with their plates piled high with food. Pepper sets the gravy on the table with a sigh.

Peter snickers. “Harley I knew you liked Green Eggs and Ham but this is a bit overboard.”

Harley rolls his eyes. “Coming from Pinkie Pie-”

“Harley I swear-”

Pepper sighs. “Boys. Do I have to start counting?”

Both freeze. They look at each other and then at the ground. “No mom.”

The table falls silent as everyone digs in. The peace doesn’t last long though. Does it ever?

“Oh.. oh god. Bleh! That’s nasty.. Pep what did you put in this?”

Pepper holds up her hands in surrender. “I went by the recipe. Harley on the other hand...”

Harley gasps in feign innocence. “Mom! How dare you accuse me of-”

Pepper raises an eyebrow. Harley pauses for a moment, then sighs. “Okay fine I may or may not have accidentally dropped the cinnamon and it may or may not have gotten on the food.”

Peter tips back his chair and groans. “Harley are you trying to kill me?”

“Not yet.”

“Well don’t feel bad,” Tony sighs, “you didn’t completely ruin Christmas dinner. There’s still this... jello stuff.”

“Yeah!” Morgan squeals. “It’s got marshmallows and fruit and everything in it!”

Pepper takes in the laughing faces of each family member and smiles. Their family is far from perfect. Very, very far.

But, even though they might be the strangest family on the planet, she wouldn’t change a single thing.

🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁

Bonus:

🎶 “DECK THE HALLS WITH WEBS FROM SPIDEY”

“Peter, I beg you, stop. You’re hurting my poor Tennessee ears.”

🎶”THWIP THWIP THWIP THWIP THWIP, TWIP TWIP, THWIP THWIP”

“Mom make it stoooop.”

“Harley he’s expressing himself”

“I don’t think expressing yourself through torture is a good thing”

🎶 “DON WE NOW OUR BI APPAREL”

“I give up. Morgan, wake me up when I leave hell.”

“Okay.... What’s hell?”

🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌🎁🦌

AHHHH THIS WAS SO FUN!!

I would love and appreciate some feedback from y’all! Hope you love this!!

[horrendoushag]

The Nasty Ecto Fries

Yeah, guess who heckin’ made a phango phic :DDD

Crossover between Supernatural and Danny Phantom

Word count: 3385

Prompts filled: Crossover, Wes Weston, Sam works at the Nasty Burger, ghost hunger, and identity reveal

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539389

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13438585/1/The-Nasty-Ecto-Fries

plz enjoy my dudes

The house was two stories, blue, with white borders. A normal house in a normal suburban neighborhood.

Dean sighed, straightening his tie. “Okay, why are we here again? I mean, ghost superhero? Pretty sure that’s a load of tourist trap bullcrap.”

Sam rolled his eyes, flipping open the folder in his hands. “Well,” he said, consulting the text, “it sure makes an awful lot of property damage for a hoax.”

“Yeah, that’s because the mayor’s in on it. Did you hear the way he talked? What a slimeball.” He snatched the folder from Sam’s hands, waving a hand at the collage of pictures on the first page. “And have you seen this jumpsuit? It’s terrible. Look at that symbol on his chest—what the hell is that supposed to be?”

“I got Bobby on it, Dean.” Sam took the folder and threw it in the back seat. “Come on. We’ve got a witness to interview.”

Dean pushed open the door to the drivers side of the car, stepped out, and slammed it behind him, blinking in the light of the summer sun. He let Sam take the lead as they strode up to the front door. Sam pressed the doorbell, and they waited.

There was a sound of hurried footsteps, socks sliding on the floor, and a loud thud, then the rattling of a doorknob being fumbled with, and finally it was opened by a freckly, dishevelled, red-haired teenager who was clutching his side.

“Hey,” Sam put up his sunniest smile, “are you Wesley Weston?”

“It’s Wes.” The kid’s eyes darted to and fro. “You the reporters from Daily News?”

Sam nodded. “Yes, I’m Sam McQueen, and this is my partner, Dean Reid. May we come inside?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Wes beckoned them inside with a lanky arm. Once they were both in the entryway, he poked his head out the door and had a long, paranoid look around before shutting it quietly. He led them into the living room and motioned them to the couch, sitting across from them in a puffy armchair.

“So Wes,” Dean began, pulling out a notepad and pen, “you said you had some, uh, important information about this Danny Phantom. What is it exactly that you wanted to tell us?”

A wild gleam appeared in Wes’ eye, and from beneath the coffee table he snatched an overstuffed black binder. A few loose scraps of paper fluttered to the ground, and Dean glimpsed words like, “ghost???” and “Fenton”—the local ghost hunters, with the son conspicuously named Danny. “THIS,” Wes declared in a loud whisper, “is all the information I’ve compiled on Phantom over the last three years. Everything the public needs to know is in here, from his favorite color to his secret identity.”

Sam blinked, taken aback, and Dean could confidently say that this kid seemed a little nuts.

“Secret identity…?” Sam said slowly, his own notepad in hand.

Wes nodded frantically, the gleam in his eyes reaching blinding levels of intensity. “Yes, based on a number of factors, I have concluded that the ghost boy is secretly…” He slammed the binder down on the coffee table and dramatically flipped it open. “...Danny Fenton!”

Dean leaned closer to peer at the photos, though not too close—he didn’t want to be within striking distance of this kid.

The first picture was a candid of a smiling Danny Fenton, eating fries in the Nasty Burger restaurant on the other side of town. The second was a slightly blurry image of Phantom, punching some kind of animalistic “ghost” with a fierce expression on his face.

Dean looked from one to the other for a minute, comparing build and coloring and facial structure, and came to the only natural conclusion. He let out a groan, leaning back in his chair. “So it really is a hoa—ow!”

Sam withdrew his elbow from where it had been digging into Dean’s ribs, his polite smile still pasted perfectly in place. “Really? That’s fascinating.” He started scribbling something on his notepad. “What are the factors that led you to this conclusion?”

“Well, the first hint was this—” He pointed to the photos. “—I mean, it’s immediately obvious that they look really similar, right? Like the only difference is the hair and eyes. And then—” He flipped to the next page, a graph. “—we have some classes together and I noticed that whenever there’s about to be a ghost attack, Fenton just happens to leave right before Phantom appears. On top of that,” he flipped the page again, “whenever Phantom is seen in public, Fenton isn’t there. Just poof, completely vanished—I’ve asked around, no one sees him.” Wes swung his head up to look them both in the eyes, breathing heavily now. “Danny Fenton is half ghost.” And with a note of desperation in his voice, “You believe me, right?”

Dean rustled up an agreeable grin. “Of course we do. We’ll make sure this goes through all the right channels, it might even end up on the front page.” He gave the kid a firm pat on his shaking shoulder and stood. “We’ll be sure to follow up on this soon, but now it’s getting late, we should be going. Thank you for your time, Wes. Come on, Sam.”

“But you’ve only been here for three minutes!” Wes protested.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was never made it out, because Dean got there first. “We are very busy people, Mr. Weston, and we can’t spend all our time today with you. Don’t worry, we’ll be calling to set up another appointment later.” He speedwalked to and through the door before he could hear whatever protests were sent his way next, Sam right behind him.

“Seriously, Dean?” Sam hissed as they climbed into the car. “He could’ve been onto something. Weirder things have happened.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? You could fertilize a field with that much bullcrap. I am not going to believe that a superpowered teenager is living is this town fighting ‘ghosts’—I mean, those aren’t even ghosts! They all look like they came out of Ghostbusters, and according to reports, they’re much more… interesting than real ghosts.” He plugged the keys into the ignition and pulled into the road.

Sam turned his gaze to the windshield. “I guess it doesn’t make much sense when you put it that way.” He chuckled. “Actually, it’s pretty ridiculous—you might be right about the whole hoax thing. And Mayor Masters is definitely making money off this.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “You know, didn’t it seem like he had a weird obsession with Maddie Fenton?”

Ten minutes later they pulled into the Nasty Burger parking lot for a late lunch. They’d been by yesterday as well, and found that despite the name of the place, the food actually wasn’t terrible. Though their “nasty sauce” was… really something.

Dean perused the menu thoughtfully. “I’ll have a… number two,” he informed the grumpy goth girl behind the counter, whose name tag read “Samantha”. “And, uh, no onions please.”

She punched the order in with a little more force than strictly necessary and then turned to Sam with a disdainful raised eyebrow.

“I’ll have the Nasty Salad,” Sam said.

“Really, Sam? Just a salad?”

Samantha looked confused for a second before wiping the expression off her face.

Sam sent him a glare. “Fine. And a small fry.”

“Finally, someone with taste,” the girl muttered, then louder, “And to drink?”

“Just water.”

Samantha typed in Sam’s order with much less aggression, then handed them cups and sent them on their way to the soft drinks station. Drinks in hand, they took their seats in a booth by a window.

“So,” Dean said after taking a sip from his soda. “That kid was kinda crazy.”

“Dean,” Sam admonished.

“What? That was some stalker level obsession. He had pages of random info on—”

“Do you think anyone would notice if I put some ecto on my fries?”

Dean stopped. Twisted around to look.

On the other side of the aisle, one booth down, sat Danny Fenton, holding an open thermos whose contents were definitely glowing green.

“If you keep talking so loudly, yeah,” hissed the black kid seated across from him. “But I dunno, give it a shot. I bet Vlad would be scandalized.”

“Tucker… that is an excellent point.” Fenton smirked and overturned the thermos on his fries. The green glowing substance came oozing slowly out with a similar consistency to ketchup, though it somewhat resembled ectoplasm.

Dean turned to exchange a glance with Sam, whose eyebrows were so far up his forehead he was afraid they might fly away. He leaned over the table and hissed, “Do you have the EMF meter?”

Sam nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out said ghost detector. He switched it on, pulled out the antenna, and flicked it off again when it immediately started making a high-pitched whining noise.

The Fenton kid’s head snapped in their direction, eyes narrowed. Dean froze with his hand halfway to the salt packets. Fenton’s eyes were unblinking, unnerving. Not normal.

“FOR GOD’S SAKE, SAM, JUST TAKE YOUR LUNCH BREAK!”

The moment was broken.

The door to the kitchen slammed open, and Samantha—or Sam, it seemed—came storming out. She flung herself into the seat next to Tucker, laid her head on the table, and gave a drawn-out groan. “I hate this place.”

“Maybe you should quit,” Tucker suggested.

“And have my parents make me work somewhere worse? No thank you.” She sat up. “Also, I’m pretty sure they’re paying my boss to make sure my name tag says Samantha.”

Fenton picked up a possibly ectoplasm-covered fry and popped it into his mouth. “How about we—”

“Order sixty-six please, order sixty-six.”

Dean glanced at his receipt. “That’s us. You go get the food, I’ll watch them.” He turned back to their table, keeping one conspicuous eye on the teenagers.

As soon as Sam was out of earshot, Fenton grabbed his fries and stood up. “You know what Sam, I bet you’re sick of Nasty Burger food. Let’s go somewhere else for your lunch.”

“Please,” Sam agreed.

“But—” Tucker started.

Fenton sent him a sharp look. “No, Tucker, we really should go somewhere else.” His eyes flicked to Dean and back. “It’s getting a little crowded, don’t you think?”

Dean quickly turned his head away, but he was pretty sure Fenton’s friends had spotted him anyway.

“Oh yeah, I guess it is getting kinda stuffy in here,” Tucker said. “C’mon.”

Sam came back with the food in to-go bags as the kids were hightailing it out the door.

Dean shot to his feet, grabbing both their drinks and a couple salt packets. “Let’s follow them.”

“Dean, don’t you think this might look a little creepy? Two guys following a few teenagers? The EMF might have just been coming from the restaurant.”

He dropped the drinks in the garbage and pushed the door open. “Yeah, but I’ve got a gut feeling. Something’s weird about that kid. Also, ecto fries.”

Sam frowned. “I thought we weren’t going to believe Wes about this.”

“We’re not! He was definitely wrong about the Phantom thing, but he was right that something’s off.”

Fenton and his friends were waiting at the crosswalk down the block. Dean went ahead while Sam dropped the food off in the car, and he tailed them from about half a dozen yards. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were casting around a lot of shifty glances.

A look behind him told him Sam was hanging back. Dean gave a nod of approval—it was much more noticeable when two tall men were trailing a couple kids than when there was just one. Though it might look like Sam was stalking him.

Two blocks later, Dean was sure they’d both been spotted. Fenton abruptly pulled his friends into an alley, and Dean sped up, brushing past other pedestrians, and turned down the alley to find it… empty.

Sam caught up a moment later, and Dean turned to face him with arms spread wide. “Well, that was a bust. They just disappeared!”

Sam rummaged around his pockets and pulled out the EMF meter again. It squealed and lit up bright red.

“Crud,” muttered a sourceless voice down the alley.

“Show yourself!” Sam barked.

There was some shuffling, a flurry of whispers, and Fenton and his friends stepped out from behind a dumpster that shouldn’t have been able to hide them.

The EMF got louder and brighter. Dean ripped open one of the salt packets and threw it.

Tucker let out a girly shriek, and Samantha and Fenton threw up their arms to shield their eyes. While they were distracted, Sam stowed the EMF and they both reached for their guns.

“What the heck? Is this salt?”

Dean stopped with his fingers on the handle of his colt.

Fenton was examining the salt on his hands with a look of utter confusion. It didn’t seem to be affecting him at all.

Sam’s arm lowered slightly. “Aren’t you a ghost?”

All three of them froze.

“Of course Danny’s not a ghost!” Tucker blurted out. “He’s totally normal. Regular old teenager.”

“Yeah!” Samantha smiled nervously. “Nothing to see here, just normal people doing normal people things.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Really? Then what was up with the EMF just now?”

Fenton gasped suddenly, his breath fogging in the warm air. “Get down!”

Dean ducked reflexively, Sam doing the same next to him. There was a flash of green light and an ear piercing shriek, and Dean looked up just in time to see a shapeless green blob go careening through the air, screeching horribly.

A nervous chuckle had him looking back at Danny. “Uh—I can explain?”

“You better,” Dean growled. His fingers itched to grab his gun. “What are you, what was that, and what did you just do?”

“Um, well, you know who my parents are, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam said slowly. “Jack and Maddie Fenton, the… ectobiologists.”

“The ghost hunters,” Danny emphasized. “They gave me and Sam and Tucker some weapons for in case ghosts attack. That was a ghost, by the way, the green thing? So I shot it with an ecto gun. That’s what just happened.”

“Ghost hunters?” Dean scoffed. “Yeah right, they couldn’t catch a ghost if it was right under their noses. Their phony science is hardly ‘ghost hunting’.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. The temperature dropped several degrees, and if he wasn’t much mistaken, the kid’s eyes had turned a radioactive green.

His hand flew to his gun before he could think about it and aimed at the thing in front of them in one smooth movement.

“Danny!” Samantha hissed.

The kid blinked and the glow was gone. He paled, normal blue eyes flicking from Dean’s face to the gun and back again. “Double crud.”

“So kid,” Dean said, voice low, “what are you?”

Fenton shifted. His gaze darted from alley wall to alley wall to the entrance, which was blocked by Dean and Sam. His two friends were equally tense, Samantha clutching something in her pocket that was probably dangerous.

Tucker held up his phone. “I-if you don’t put that down—” He gulped. “I’m calling the police.”

“Dean,” Sam said, “I don’t think he’s planning to hurt anyone. We should talk.”

Dean looked the kid in the eyes for a long moment, then nodded. He relaxed his stance, lowered the gun slowly, and tucked it into the back of his jeans again. “You can relax. Safety wasn’t even off.”

“I feel so much better,” Samantha muttered.

They ignored her.

“What happened just now?” Sam demanded.

Danny took a deep breath. “If I tell you this, you have to promise you won’t tell anyone. I could get in huge trouble if some people found out, you have no idea—and you have to promise you won’t try to kill me!”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, “we won’t tell anyone. And we won’t try to kill you.” Unless we have to, was the unspoken addition that only Dean knew was there.

“Danny, you’re seriously going to tell these guys?” Tucker exclaimed. “I thought this was supposed to be a secret!”

“Yeah, well, they already know I’m not normal. If I tell them they might think twice before trying to end me, and if I don’t they might just try to hunt me down anyway.” He looked Dean in the eyes, and his resolve almost seemed to falter for a second. “I’m—” He swallowed heavily. “I’m half ghost.”

Dean’s train of thought screeched to a stop, but not before bowling over his precariously balanced sense of normal. “Excuse me?”

Now that the words had left his mouth Fenton appeared to be unable to stop talking. “Well, I kinda went into my parents’ ghost portal and got shocked and now I’m half dead, we don’t actually know how it works, but we’re trying to figure it out, kinda.”

“Next thing you know he’s gonna be telling us he’s actually Danny Phantom,” Dean grumbled.

“Yeah… about that…”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “So you’re saying the Weston kid was right?”

The trio’s faces scrunched up in matching expressions of distaste.

“Seriously? You talked to Wes?” Danny shuddered. “He’s always trying to out me. And he’s been kinda more nuts than usual lately. He followed me with a camera for six blocks yesterday.”

“Creepy,” Sam muttered.

“So you get ghost powers,” Dean said slowly, “and the first thing you do is become a freaking superhero?”

“Uh, not quite first thing, but yeah, pretty much.” Danny grinned sheepishly.

“Wait,” Sam interrupted. “So if all the stuff going on around here is real, what’s with all the ghosts?”

“Well, they’ve been escaping the Ghost Zone through the portal,” Danny explained matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but… why do they look like that?”

Danny’s face turned to a puzzled frown. “What do you mean? They’re ghosts. Aren’t you guys ghost hunters? You should know what they look like.”

“These ghosts you have don’t look anything like what we’ve seen. Yours are…” Sam trailed off. “Very colorful. More inhuman, and more powerful. We actually thought it was some kind of show put on for tourists, though the property damage was weird enough. That’s why we came to check it out in the first place…”

“Huh. I thought this was normal. I think I’ve only met one ghost that wasn’t crazy weird, a kid at my school.”

“Maybe it’s a different type of ghost,” Sam suggested. “Or something else entirely.”

“Uh, no,” Danny scoffed, “I’m definitely half dead, not part monster-from-another-dimension, or whatever.”

“Right, different type it is,” Dean decided.

Sam frowned like a thought had just come to him. “Did you notice the mayor has a weird obsession with your mom?”

Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I noticed. I can’t really do anything about it, though.”

“Why not?” Dean raised his hands. “You have ghost powers, why not go in there and set him straight?”

“I can’t. It’s complicated.” He looked down at his shoes, then back up again. “So, you guys sticking around, or are you gonna take off now that you know what’s going on?”

Dean exchanged a glance with Sam. “You got everything handled here? Your parents helping?”

Danny shrugged. “More or less. Mom and Dad do their best.”

“They approve of you ghost hunting?”

His eyes shifted. “...Yeah. They’ve been trying to get me into it for ages.”

“All right then. Here, gimme your phone.”

Danny took a step back, hand drifting toward his pocket. “What? Why?”

“So I can put our numbers in it in case you ever need help. Come on.” Dean gestured impatiently.

“It’s fine, really, I have Sam and Tucker and my parents—”

“Yeah, and we can help you too. Never hurts to have extra backup.”

Danny paused a moment longer, then sighed. “Fine, here you go.”

He handed Dean a beat-up flip phone, and he wasted no time punching in two of his three numbers as well as Sam’s. “If you run into a ghost that’s different than the ones you’re used to, more human—or anything else—and you don’t know how to take it out, give us a call. All right?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Danny took the phone back and stared at it with an unreadable expression. “I will.”

[jcmadgirl]

A quiet fic idea for you: what if you wrote a fic where Kie and Pope both THINK that JJ and John B have been together for ages (maybe they think the boys are trying to keep it secret??), but actually JJ&JB haven't toppled over that friends-to-lovers milestone yet. No pressure!! It juat occurred to me this morning and I was like "you know who'd do this suuuper well? JC." So this is a strings-free fic prompt that you may adopt or ignore at your leisure 😊

Hi!! Thanks for sending a prompt, hope you like it! 

Words:  1672

Pairing: JJ/John B

Raiting: General Audiences

Kie glares at JJ, and Pope snorts beside her, catching her eyes.

“This is not funny, Pope!” She says, turning her glare on him. She can feel Pope's shoulders shaking with laughter beside her. 

“Glaring at him won't make him go any faster.”

“Well, if he'd stop making heart eyes at his boyfriend then maybe he could bring me my drink.”

“You're a strong, independent woman, Kie. You don't need a man to bring you a drink.”

“Yeah, but I don't want to interrupt. They think they're being sneaky.” Kie looks back at JJ and John B again, watching how John B's face lights up at whatever JJ is saying. 

(It's not Kie isn't happy for them, she is.)

(But their not-so-secret relationship is getting between her and her beer.) 

“We should stop staring at them.” Pope says after a minute. 

(John B's arm is now around JJ.) 

“Yeah. C'mon, let's go get our own drinks.” Kie says, getting up from the sand and pulling Pope up with her. 

Kie walks up to them and the keg, clearing her voice. 

(John B cringes and takes his arm off JJ's shoulder.)

(Kie doesn't miss the way JJ leans into the contact, before pulling away.) 

(Guess they're not big on PDA.)

“Sorry, boys, just trying to get a beer.” She has to shout over the music, now that they're much closer to the center of the party.

(It's always more crowded around the keg.) 

“Aw, Kie, did you miss me?” JJ asks, trademark smirk playing on his lips.

“Not one bit.” She replies, giving him a saccharine smile. She fills both her and Pope's red cups. 

“Wait, I already got one for you.” JJ says, raising the second cup he's holding. 

Kie rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, an hour ago.” She points out, looking over at John B.

(JJ is definitely blushing.)

(Just a little, barely visible, but definitely there.)

(Kie just wishes they'd tell them.) 

(It's not like she and Pope have anything against them being together.)

(And their efforts of hiding it are pathetic.) 

“Anyway, let's go dance.” John B says, and Pope shakes his head.

(He hates dancing.)

“You guys go ahead.” Kie says, stepping back. JJ and John B share a look.

(They seem to have an entire conversation with just one glance.)

(It used to make her feel excluded, like the boys had secrets from her.)

(Turns out that's just how JJ and John B communicate.) 

“See you later.” JJ says, and then he's walking away and John B follows him, leaving behind Kie and Pope.

Kie watches them get lost in the crowd of drunk teenagers on the beach, swaying to the music and smiling at each other.

“They're gonna give me diabetes if they keep that up.” Pope says, and Kie snorts.

“Same.” 

***

Kie is trying to be a good friend, she really is. And so is Pope.

(They pretend to not see when JJ and John B disappear together at parties.)

(Or all the times Kie and Pope catch them talking quietly between themselves, hands close.)

(She ignores how JJ always leans into John B.)

(And how John B always pulls him close.)

(How they look at each other, so sweet and adoringly that Kie has to look away.)

(It feels like prying.) 

But this is starting to be too much.

“You told JJ we're coming, right?” Kie asks.

(She and Pope are literally hiding behind a bush.)

(JJ and John B are sitting in front of each other a few feet away.)

(Or, well, they were sitting.)

(Then JJ threw his empty pack of cigarettes at John B and they've been rolling on the sand since, pretending to fight.)

“Yeah, I did.” Pope says with a sigh. “Should we, like, yell at them? That we're here?”

“I mean, I guess. They look like they're about to go down on each other and I really do not want to see that.” 

“Gross.” Pope comments. Then he clears his voice really loudly.

“Oh, Kie, what a nice day, isn't it?” He half-yells, looking pointedly at her. 

(It makes her laugh, chest warm.)

“That was not suspicious at all, Pope, good job.” 

“Shut up.” He says, blush spreading on his cheeks. “Shut up, shut up.” 

Kie pats him on the shoulder, glancing back at JJ and John B.

“Fuck no, gross, gross, ew.” She says, looking away. 

(The picture of John B laying over JJ will be forever burned behind her eyelids.)

“Are they aware that they're in a public space? Or do you think they just don't care?”

“Second one, probably.” 

“Nasty.”Pope says, turning his back to the beach. “Well, this is awkward.”

“Just yell again, come on. I'll follow you.” 

Pope sighs.

“Fine. Oh, Kie, it's really fucking hot today, yeah?”

“Yes, Pope, really hot. Can't wait to get in the water!” Kie says, cupping her hands around her mouth to make it even louder. “I really hope JJ and John B aren't getting in any trouble!” 

“This would be much easier if they just told us.” Pope whispers, and she nods.

“I know.” She says again, and when she looks up JJ and John B are back to sitting beside each other, and JJ is smoking. “Come on, let's go now. Before they start up again.” 

Kie strides up to them, Pope following closely behind her.

“Hey, guys.” She says, sitting down beside John B. “How's your day been?” 

(She doesn't miss John B's eyes flying to JJ.)

“Pretty good, how was yours?”

***

“It's not like we're gonna judge them or anything.” Pope says and Kie nods. 

(This is probably the most awkward situations out of them all.)

(Kie and Pope are right there, you know?)

(JJ and John B are not even trying to hide it.) 

(JJ has John B's head in his lap, and he's brushing his fingers through his hair.) 

(He looks so in love, it's a bit disgusting, really.)

“Should we just go?” Pope whispers to Kie, and she nods.

(They're all the Chateau, and it looks like JJ and John B could use some privacy.)

“Yeah.” She says quietly, and then Pope stands up and so does she.

“Well, time to go home.” Pope says, and Kie nods. 

Both John B and JJ look at them, JJ's hand stilling in John B's hair for a second.

“Surfing tomorrow?” JJ asks, and Kie nods.

“You can bet on it.” And with that Kie and Pope are walking away. 

(Kie can hear JJ's laugh, just before Pope closes the door.) 

(It's good, he sounds happy, happier than Kie has ever seen him.)

***

Kie and Pope are sitting on the beach, around a bonfire, a beer each. 

(It's a good night, warm and easy.)

(Pope is ranting her ear off about something college-related, and to be honest she stopped listening ten minutes ago, but Pope doesn't seem to care.)

(Or maybe he hasn't even noticed, too distracted by talking about whatever he's talking about.) 

Half an hour later, Kie has taken his place and started ranting about actually important things.

(The environment.)

(And she knows Pope is really listening to her.)

That's when she spots JJ and John walking towards them.

Hand in hand.

She stops mid sentence, openly staring at them.

“Well, that's new.” Pope comments, following her gaze.

“Don't make it awkward, Pope.”

“You're the one staring at them like a hawk!” 

(True.) 

She looks away, bringing the beer to her lips, and starts talking again.

JJ and John B sit down then, and JJ's smile is so big his face must be hurting.

(John B's eyes are shining as he looks at JJ.) 

(It's cute.) 

“Finally decided to tell us?” Kie asks, and Pope rolls his eyes.

“What happened to not making it awkward?”

“I'm not making it awkward, shut up, Pope.” Then she looks back between JJ and John B, and maybe she did make it awkward.

(Oops.)

“Hello? Boys?” 

“What do you mean?” John B asks.

(And he looks back at JJ with wide eyes.)

(JJ looks as taken aback as John B.)

“Just- you're not as sneaky as you think you are, me and Pope have known for a while.” She explains, eyes flicking between all the boys. 

JJ blinks. 

“You guys are together, right?” Pope asks quietly.

(Kie really hopes she did not fuck this up massively.)

“Yeah.” John B answers.

(JJ's lips quirk up at that.) 

“But, like, we just got together today.” John B continues, and Kie is aware her mouth is hanging stupidly open, but she can't help it.

“Literally three hours ago.” JJ continues, and Kie looks back at Pope.

“No way.” Pope says, eyes bouncing between JJ and John B, and JJ's laugh fills the air then.

“Oh my God, how long did you think we were together?” 

“Like, four months.” Kie replies, and JJ's laugh grows louder now.

“Fuck, this is so good.”

“You mean to tell me you've just gotten together today, and the four past months you two were just being regular friends? Sorry I don't believe that.” Kie says, and she really doesn't.

(JJ and John B have always been ridiculously close, but that's just too much, even for them.) 

“Well, I was flirting, but he was too dense to pick up on it.” JJ says, lazy grin on his face, and John B glares at him.

(It's far too soft to have any effect.)

“Fuck off, JJ, you call that flirting?”

“Yeah, I do, bro, sorry you're too thick to realize that.” JJ replies, leaning in to press a kiss on John B's lips.

(John B's eyes literally look like little hearts.) 

Kie looks back at Pope, and Pope holds her eyes.

“It's going to be like this for the rest of our lives, isn't it?” Pope asks, and Kie nods.

“Get ready for fifty years of bickering and heart eyes.”

“Can't fucking wait.”

“Guys, we're right here.” JJ rolls his eyes, and Kie laughs and so does Pope, and it's good.

(It's how it's supposed to be.) 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Baby queen’s first word and steps; Queen x toddler reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well here we are with another request. This time this one came from my wattpad and it was fairly recently given to me so I just got it done and it’s too adorable to be kept on just wattpad for a few days before I also posted it onto here. So no warnings on this really except TEETH-ROTTING, UNADULTERATED FLUFF (with maybe a hint of swearing) but other than that enjoy you lovely darlings. 

Edit 7-9-19*

SEQUEL IS OUT. PT. 2 I REPEAT PT.2 IS NOW OUT. Click here for the second part.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@geek-and-proud

____________________________________________________________

*1974*

Rising star and front man of Queen Freddie Mercury had just woken up to see the sun blazing in through the curtains of his and Mary’s apartment.  He reached over to feel if the love of his life was still in bed only to feel it empty and cold.  He looked up and saw a note lying there along her pillow.  He picked it up and it read out.

Work called in earlier than I expected. So sorry I couldn’t stay to greet you Freddie. Have a good day and record a new hit record, I love you Freddie.

-Mary

He smiled and kissed the note before setting it aside and got up to put on his robe before heading into the next room.  The jointed room next to the main bedroom was decorated in pink with flowers and butterflies scattered everywhere (designed by Freddie himself) and lying right by the window was a white crib and as he looked over, there he saw the angel he had been blessed with.

Unexpectedly and unexplainable, in the midst of the early stages of them dating, Mary had fallen pregnant just as Freddie first started off with his new band. It threw him for a shock at first but he was determined to make this work and give Mary the support she needed, and to ensure that the baby did have their father in his or her life.

Then finally on Jan 13th, 1973 their daughter (y/n) Austin-Mercury was born. And the second Freddie stared down at the beautiful baby girl, he was smitten with her.  As were his bandmates, they all helped and got involved with helping to raise their niece.  Each of them loved (y/n) as if she were their own, but none so much more than the drummer Roger Taylor.  He spoiled that girl to no end whether it was for Christmas or just recently her 1 year old birthday.  In fact Roger even went to the extend to have a mini drum kit set out for her with her own customized drumsticks.

Even at the disagreement with the rest of the band saying that she was too young, Roger was determined to turn his niece into a drummer, at least before Brian or Deacy had the chance to teach her guitar or bass.  With all the love and attention Roger had given her, Freddie and Mary both had agreed to name Roger the godfather of little (y/n).  

Of course when he was told by Freddie one rehearsal, he tried his best to keep his emotions in check but when he was finally alone the drummer actually broke down crying (to which Brian had overheard and got a good couple of months of blackmail out of him).

Now at a year and a half old, little (y/n) woke up to see her dad leaning over her crib. She reached out to him and Freddie couldn’t help but smile and pick her up as he cooed.

“Aww there’s my lovely darling. Oh you’re getting bigger every day aren’t you? Please stay this young forever. I don’t want to deal with the nasty little boys that’ll try to take you away from me just yet. With your mother’s looks it’ll be damn near impossible.”  It was true, she inherited most of her looks from her mum minus the hair, that she inherited from Freddie.  So a tuff of ‘long’ black hair covered her head.

(Y/n) babbled and touched her daddy’s face to which he smiled and brought her close before pecking her cheek multiple times making her laugh.

“Ohh you’re so cute darling.” He then went into the kitchen and set her in the highchair that his mum had given him.  He fed his daughter her breakfast before getting her cleaned up and finally changed into clothes before he got dressed to head to the studio.

The phone rang and he answered it.

“Freddie Mercury darling, oh hi Maria when are you coming over?” He stood there in silence before he said, “What? What do you mean you can’t come over? Oh….I’m so sorry. Yes I—I understand, my regards to you and your family. Take care of yourself darling, bye.”

Maria was a friend of Mary’s who was also a coworker with her at Biba.  Apparently she had called to tell Freddie that she couldn’t make it to watch over (y/n) because her mom had passed away from cancer. He hung up the phone and that’s when he realized he was in a bit of a situation.

He had to be in the studio in the next 25 minutes, Mary was at work and he had no babysitter to look after her.  His sister Kash was still in school right now, he’d never want to ask his dad especially since he was at work all day till dark, and his mum was currently fighting a small cold.  He thought and thought and debated long and hard.  Sure he’s taken her to the studio before for rehearsals and all, however this time the boys were in the middle of recording their 3rd album “Sheer Heart Attack” and all of them needed to focus on the recording since the deadline was coming up.

“Hey darling, my beautiful baby girl. How would you like to see your uncles and godfather hmm?” Now she might have been a year and a half year old but she was a clever girl, at the mention of her godfather and uncles a huge smile came on her face.  Seeing the smile on his daughter’s face, Freddie thought that with no other choice, he’d have to take her with him since there was no one else to watch her.

They arrived at the studio 15 minutes late and when Freddie walked in through the door with a baby bag over his shoulder and carrying (y/n) in his arms.

“About bloody time you show up Fred.”

“Relax Brian, had a bring in a little extra baggage.” At the sight of her, the boys all gathered around and fawned over their #1 fan. “Hope you lads don’t mind that I brought our littlest fan. Maria cancelled and I couldn’t find anyone else to look after her.”

“Oh not at all Fred, in fact things will be a lot more peaceful now that she’s here.” Deacy said as he took her from Freddie’s arms.  Deacy lightly bounced her up and down cooing softly at her.

“Deacy darling you are such a pro. Any kids that you’re not telling us?” Freddie teased.

“Oh no. Veronica and I aren’t ready for that step quite yet.”

“Well hurry it up and give my lovely girl a best friend already. Unless it’s a boy then don’t bother.”

“Whys that?”

“Because if he’s a boy he’ll get a crush on her. And as the years go by that crush develop until by the time they’re teenagers that’ll—”

“Enough Fred. That’ll never happen to my beloved goddaughter, not as long as I’m around!” Roger spoke up as he came up and stood beside Deacy.

At the sight of seeing her godfather before her, she fussed as she reached out for him babbling and making fussy noises.  Roger let out a playful gasp as he reached out for (y/n).  “Mhm lovey, come here you.” He then gently took her into his arms.

She stared up at him in awe before reaching out to him, taking a handful of his hair but not pulling it.  Thankfully unlike most babies (y/n) was well behaved and doesn’t pull hair, she just held his hair in her hands as she kept staring up at Roger.  He gave her kisses all over her face even blowing raspberries into her cheek making her laugh which in turn made Roger smile and chuckle.

“Thank god you brought her here Fred, Rog was nearly about to blow his top because of a disagreement we had with a song, now (y/n) can help see the song my way.” Brian spoke up.

“Brian if anyone is to use my daughter to get what he wants, it’s me.” Freddie spoke up.

“Alright lads, let’s start up the recording.” Roy, their recording manager spoke up.  Unpacking some of her favorite toys to keep her occupied from the bag, Freddie took his daughter from Roger’s arms and set her down on the floor and as soon as she saw her toys, (y/n) went right to them.  Freddie kissed the top of her head, thinking she would be fine for now, in order to let them work.

She was a good girl after all.

“Don’t pout Roger, you’ll get your time back with her once you’ve done your bits. Alright my darlings let’s do this!” Freddie then strutted into the recording booth and got himself into position, followed by Brian and Deacy.  Roger who looked toward his backpack before looking down at his goddaughter playing and softly babbling to herself thought before he’d get caught, he’d give her, her surprise now.

He got a small handbag present out from his pack and knelt down before his goddaughter and said.

“Hey lovey,” she immediately looked up and reached out for him.  Roger chuckled and said, “Guess what, I was in the toy market yesterday and saw something I think you would love. You ready?” She babbled as Roger continued, “I’ll take that as a yes.” He waited for dramatic emphasis before finally pulling out a beautifully hand-made stuffed lion.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened and she babbled as she reached out for it.  Roger smiled knowing that she liked it said.

“Yeah that’s my girl. Do you know what the lion sounds like? Huh what’s it say?” She babbled out and Roger said, “That’s right, Rawr!” He playfully shook the lion along her cheek and neck allowing it’s mane to tickle her which made her laugh as Roger continued to playfully roar at her.

“Roger there’s only room in her life for one spoiling father, and that right belongs to me.” Freddie’s voice soon spoke up from the piano.  Roger looked up and he flipped Freddie off and said as he picked her up,

“Your daddy is just a jealous wanker; you love me more don’t you (n/n)? Huh don’t you?” He began to repeatedly peck kisses along her cheek and lightly tickled her tummy which made her laugh some more all the while locking his eyes with Freddie in a mocking matter.  Freddie grinned at him and said.

“You’re playing a war you won’t win Roger dear.”

“We’ll see about that Fred, we’ll see.” He kissed the top of (y/n)’s head before forcing himself to set her down and gave her her new lion before walking in the booth.

As the day went on, (y/n) was fed her food, got her diaper changed whenever she was wet, and of course had her naps.  She was currently napping against Roger’s chest as he sat on the couch while the other three were with Roy listening to the track to see if it was all good and what edits needed to be made.

“Don’t you think I sound like shit?” Freddie spoke out.

“No it’s good.” Brian spoke out naturally.

“Can we redo it from the second verse?” suggested Freddie.  Roy allowed it and Fred went back into the booth and re-recorded his part for the song.  Roger looked down to see his goddaughter still sleeping against his chest, her thumb in her mouth unconsciously sucking it.

He smiled and lightly kissed the top of her head as he gently rocked her back and forth until a voice broke him out of his trance with his goddaughter.

“Okay Rog, your turn now.” He looked up before looking down to see (y/n) was starting to stir from her nap.  He hated to leave her but it was then Brian came up and said.

“I can take her Roger; don’t worry you’ll get her back soon.”

“Fine.” Carefully he handed (y/n) over to Brian and he held her against his chest. (Y/n) who was now wide awake began to cry as she reached out for him.

“Aww hey, he’ll be back love.” Brian tried to soothe her as (y/n) kept whimpering and crying out as she reached out to Roger.  The drummer couldn’t help but kneel down and kiss her tiny little nose and he said.

“Don’t you worry lovey, I’ll just be right across the window, you’ll still see me.” He kissed her cheek this time before standing up and heading into the recording booth.  Brian kept hold of (y/n) until he had to go up and record his bit alongside Roger.

He set her down with her toys in order to keep her occupied.  Even though she did reach out for her lion, she still looked in the direction of where Roger had disappeared to.

After awhile they came back in but were gathered around the control booth in order to hear what their pieces sounded like and what they could do to improve the editing of whether one part should be louder or softer.  It was then (y/n) in her little brain began thinking about trying something.

Seeing the couch she reached out for it and gripped the side of it with her tiny hand as she pulled herself up.  She wobbled as most babies do when they first stand but eventually she took her first step, then her second and just kept walking and walking.

Deacy was the first to turn around and he gasped as he said.

“Lads look!” And when the rest of the band turned around, they were all in shock and awe at seeing (y/n) taking her first steps.  She slowly wobbled as her steps got a little faster.

“That’s it! That’s it my darling come to daddy!” Freddie said as he knelt down before her and held out his arms so that she could come to him.

But to Freddie’s shock, his own daughter went up to Roger.  He happily took her in his arms and playfully tossed her up in the air making her laugh as he praised on how good she did walking all the way across the room.

“I can’t believe it. My own flesh and blood, goes to you instead of me.” Fred said flabbergasted.

“I told you Fred, she loves me more than you.” He pecked kisses all over her face making her smile as the other two gathered around her praising her as well.

“Well I may have lost the battle but not the war. The first word she will say will have nothing to do with you.” Freddie proclaimed.

“What you’ve been trying to make her say dada?” Roger mocked teasingly.

“No. I predict she’ll say mama first. However Mary thinks she’ll say dada first since that’s what her first word was according to her father. But I swear to you her first word will be mama and yours will be last word she’ll ever learn.”

Later on that day as the boys were finishing up, as Roger and Deacy were with (y/n) taking their ‘playtime break’ as the four boys liked to call it.  Deacy had her in his lap while Roger was making her newly gifted stuffed lion walk around and playfully roaring at her as he would tickle her with its mane.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to your godfather’s insanity as you get older. If not then you’ll always have a home with me, right love?”

“It’s not insanity, it’s me loving her.”

“Raw…” (y/n) spoke up.

“That’s right baby bird, that’s what a lion says.”

“Ra—ra….Rog.”

Both Deacy and Roger looked at each other in shock.

“D-did she just say….” Deacy started but Roger hissed out a shush toward him and he knelt down before her and said.

“What did you just say lovely?”

“Rog. Rog! Rog!” She began to chant out.  Roger held his arms up in victory as he took his goddaughter in his arms and lightly spun her around proclaiming.

“Yes! Yes baby love ohh you did it! You’re first word. My name! Oh I’m so proud of you my little lion cub.” He began kissing all over her face and Deacy spoke up.

“Fred will not be pleased about that.”

“Oh he’s never going to hear the end of it.” He went over to the window to see Brian and Fred discussing their business inside the booth and he knocked on the window to get their attention.  He waved them over and the two other band members came out and Brian said.

“What is it this time Roger?”

“You guys will be happy to know that our lovely baby Queen here just said her first word.” Both Freddie and Brian gasped and Freddie proclaimed.

“And I missed it?! Oh you cheeky darling say it again, say it again for daddy!” He took his daughter back into his arms and she chanted out.

“Rog-Rog!” At that his heart dropped and he glared at Roger.

“You are dead meat Taylor.” He handed Brian his daughter and soon Roger took off running as Fred began to chase him screaming out various profanities while Roger just kept taunting and teasing him that he won.

Both guitar players just stood there shaking their heads and Brian said.

“I can tell this little one will have them both killing each other by the time she’s 2.”

“I think she already knows she can do that now.” Deacy stated.

“One thing I do know is that I don’t think Roger’s ever gonna let Fred hear the end of this.” Deacy nodded in agreement.

And that was the truth.  As (y/n) grew older, anytime she was around Roger was always the first one to greet her, and he would always in conversation whether she was there or not, speak up about how his goddaughter’s first steps and words were all for him.

[christie052780]

Katy, Lori, and Pamela smiled as they tried on the bikinis they'd bought for the vacation of a lifetime.

* * *

Mike, Dan, and Keith had met at a support group for divorced men who'd been fucked over by their ex-wives. It didn't take long for the three of them to realize that they all had in common the fact that they had daughters of the same age and that their wives had completely abandoned their daughters after the divorces were final.

Over the following years that led to play dates where the men and daughters would meet up for dinners, shopping, and the occasional vacation together.

Now the three girls were out of high school and getting ready to head off to college in the fall. Each of the three girls had selected different colleges so that meant the group activities were going to be a thing of the past.

Earlier that same year the three men had met up at a bar one Friday night to talk about the future and by the third drink Dan confessed to having a thing for Mike's daughter Katy. Mike confessed to having an interest in Keith's daughter Pamela, and then Keith completed the circle by admitting to a schoolboy crush on Dan's girl Lori. The three men laughed about the whole thing and each was happy that they'd managed to talk about the whole thing without having a fight.

The evening wore on and the men comiserated how they didn't want to be alone come the fall. None of them really wanted their charming, feminine girls to go off to college to become the vicious, nasty feminists that the colleges produced these days.

The fifth round of drinks landed on the table and as they lifted their glasses once again it was Dan who went first.

"Wouldn't it be great if we could all just swap daughters, marry them, and then keep them home instead of saying goodbye to them? That way we'd all stay close, right?"

The two other men stared at Dan slackjawed with the audacity of the idea.

For a moment Dan thought they were going to kick his ass.

Keith took a swig off his drink and put the glass down, hard enough to splash a little of it.

"Fucking hell, Dan. The only reason I'm pissed here is because I didn't think of it first!"

The three men were quiet for a moment but then erupted into laughter.

* * *

The next day phone calls took place and the three men met again, this time for coffee.

Sober, they now had to come to terms with the idea that had been presented and they needed to make sure that all three of them were on board with the idea.

Each had their reservations about handing their respective daughters off to another man but then they each also had the promise of a young thing in return.

Keith was the one who wondered about the downsides of the idea, "So what if they're not into it? And how do we get them to commit to the idea?"

Dan had long fantasized about Katy in a certain way so he spoke next, "What if we make this like a summer-long adventure so we can get them good and pregnant?"

Once again two of the men looked on in awe as Dan broached what had to be a horribly taboo idea.

Yet now it was Mike's turn for a thought, "Well, remember the fishing camp we rented in British Columbia? What if we rented it again but for the whole summer instead of just a few weeks?"

The other two men nodded their heads in agreement.

* * *

After that it was a matter of working out the details. They arranged for the camp to be stocked with plenty of food and drink for the three months they planned to be there and they also planned to each make sure that their respective daughters weren't on the pill or the shot...and none of them were.

They agreed that what they were doing might not be exactly legal. Yet they all agreed to proceed.

At this point there was no question that all three of them wanted to do this.

* * *

When the three men presented the vacation plans to the girls they each had their reservations about the idea simply because it was their last summer before college and they had typical summer plans that didn't necessarily include their fathers. The men pressed the idea saying that, indeed, it could be the last time all six of them would have a chance to be together and the girls eventually warmed to the idea. The bikinis were the clincher and when the three girls tried them on it was Keith who snapped a picture of them.

* * *

It was four months later when the six of them boarded the plane for Vancouver, then it was a long flight on a float plane that dropped them off right at the camp. They were now a good hundred miles from the next people and they'd be very, very alone for the next three months.

The next morning actually started quite early. The sunrise being around 3:30 AM that time of year. By the time the sleepyheads rolled out of bed the day was well along. Breakfast was followed by the men getting their fishing gear together and the girls getting their bikinis on for a day of sun and relaxation.

A routine was quickly adopted and over the next few days the men started spending less time with their own daughters and more time with their interest.

Mike was the first to make a move.

He'd managed to get Pamela to take a hike with him and along the way he gave her a kiss. The girl was clearly surprised but she wasn't put off by it.

Dan was the next and in his case it was an evening by the fire and he cuddled up to Katy to keep her warm. She cuddled right back.

Keith ended up getting to put mosquito repellent on Lori and the application turned into a massage. He stopped when Lori was obviously a little uncomfortable with the whole thing.

Naturally the three men had a chance to discuss their progress and when they did the big surprise was that none of their daughters had informed their respective fathers of what had happened.

* * *

It was in the second week of their stay when Mother Nature got involved.

Even though it was mid-June there was still one more snowstorm in the offing. The father-daughter pairs mostly kept to their cabins but one night they all came together for dinner and drinks at Dan's cabin. Keith had a pitcher of very strong appletinis for the girls and for the guys he was pouring watered-down Scotch.

When Lori started to fade from the strong drink and the long day Dan asked Keith to take Lori back to the cabin. Lori was too wasted to pay much attention to the fact that she was led out of her own cabin and walked away to Keith's cabin.

Mike took Pamela back to his own cabin and that left Dan to be alone with Katy.

* * *

Dan & Katy....

As soon as Mike and Pamela were out the door Dan shut off the lights.

"Okay, Katy...time for bed." In the dying firelight she looked up at him and took his hand.

"Um, shouldn't I be going back to my cabin?"

Dan pulled her to her feet and led her to the bedroom, "No, you're going to be staying here tonight."

The tall blonde was a little confused, "But where's Lori going to sleep?"

"She'll be fine, she's staying with Keith tonight."

For some reason that made sense to Katy. She didn't complain as Dan helped her get her clothes off but when she went to get her t-shirt to wear to bed she didn't find it. In the total darkness what her hand came across was a warm Dan.

She felt his lips on her own and then she felt his searching hands come up her waist to hold her pert little breasts. She moved back and pressed against the bed and then his hands came back down and pulled her panties to the floor.

As drunk as she was, she wasn't that drunk.

"Dan, this is a little much...I mean what about my father?"

She heard him in her ear as he nuzzled her neck, "Mike is right now doing the same thing with Pamela. We have an arrangement."

Katy had a moment of clarity, "You mean my dad..."

Dan cut her off, "Yeah, your dad is with Lori tonight."

He pushed the now-naked teenager onto the bed and climbed onto the bed with her.

After lusting for the girl for so long he was doing his best to be patient. He also wanted the moment to last.

Katy knew what he wanted and at least that much of her confusion was gone. After all, it wasn't like she was a virgin. Still, her ex-boyfriend had been so patient and so gentle. Dan was all over her and she struggled with him to try to get him to back off. With his prize now so close Dan was losing his patience.

He got up on his hands and knees and used one of his knees to pry apart Katy's knees. Then his other knee got between her long, silky legs.

"Dan, please..."

"Katy, I've loved you for so damned long."

It was the one thing her boyfriend had never said to her. She'd said it to that asshole so many times and not once did he say it back to her. Yet she gave him so much.

"You love me?", she said as she stopped struggling.

"I do...with all my heart."

Had the light been on Dan would have seen a tear fall from Katy's eye. Instead he felt her legs relax and then her hands went from trying to push him away to passively holding his waist.

He pressed his cock to her pussy and felt her legs spread to welcome him.

Even though she'd been struggling with Dan to fight him off Katy's body was preparing her for sex. The excitement of being with a man had gotten her aroused and when she heard him say the words she'd longed to hear it was easy to relax and let him have what he wanted.

In just a few strokes Dan was buried balls deep in the leggy blonde.

He calmed his ardor for a moment.

"I do love you. I meant what I said. Do you think you could love me, too?"

Katy was emotionally overcome. She was crying as she simply whispered, "Yes."

Dan then let his body take over from his brain.

His cock slipped back and forth in Katy's luxuriously snug pussy. He loved how she held onto him when he'd pull back and then she'd relax to let him push into her again. Clearly she had some experience and he didn't mind because right now he was the beneficiary of her skills.

For her part Katy was enjoying the mature cock that was plowing her insides. Dan was both thicker and longer than her former boyfriend. And the way he moved with her! It wasn't just about sex...Katy felt something deeper going on with Dan and as he made love to her she knew his claim of love was true.

She felt it coming. She'd never had sex feel this good before. Was it how he said he loved her? Was that it? Oh....and it started to build. Her breasts felt full as he fucked her. The sensation of his cock in her body...it was so...different.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she arched her neck as the best orgasm of her life swept over her body. Her legs spread to let him get deeper and her hands pulled at his waist.

Dan knew she was in ecstasy and while he did his very best to prolong her joy he couldn't hold off any longer.

He plowed her deep and hard and as he was nearing his release that was when Katy realized what was different...there was no condom! She knew she should make him stop but, damn, it felt so good that she couldn't bear to try! She heard his breath catch in his throat and then he moaned as his cock started twitching inside her. Katy felt Dan's body tremble as his cock unloaded into her pussy and something about the whole experience was so perfect to her.

When he calmed down a bit and rested his weight on her she kissed him and he kissed her back. She loved how he stayed buried inside her instead of immediatly rolling off and running to the bathroom like her ex used to do.

* * *

Mike & Pamela...

Mike looked over his shoulder at his daughter Katy and a smiling Dan and had a momentary regret about what was certainly going to happen to his little girl. Pamela stumbled on the threshold and he turned his attention back to her.

His arm went around her waist and when she slipped again he found a t-shirt covered tit in his hand. She was soft and warm and suddenly he couldn't wait to see what she looked like without the t-shirt.

His own daughter slipped from his mind as he then led Pamela to his own cabin.

Upon entering the cabin he closed the door behind himself and then led Pamela to the bedroom. He flipped on the light.

Pamela looked around and was briefly confused, "Um, isn't this your cabin?" she asked Mike.

"It is. I thought it might be nice for us to get to know each other."

Pamela might have been more than a bit tipsy but she wasn't stupid.

"You're going to try to fuck me, aren't you?"

Mike just smiled for a moment as the truth dawned on her.

"You three assholes are trying to fuck the three of us, isn't that what's gong on?"

He nodded and said, "Yep, that was the plan."

"My father is fucking Lori, isn't he? I knew he had a thing for her."

Mike just smiled his best Cheshire cat smile in response.

Pamela shook her head, "Then you left Katy with Dan?"

"I did."

Pamela thought about it and pulled off her t-shirt to reveal her perfect cones and the daintiest of gumdrop nipples, "Then fuck them all, if they're getting laid then so am I! And you better have a condom 'cause I didn't bring any."

"Of course." Mike replied, not caring about the lie. He flicked the switch on the wall and sent the room into darkness. Then he quickly stripped before trying to find Pamela. He bumped into her as she was pulling her panties to the floor and his hard cock brushed over the warm skin of her bare ass.

He pulled her close as she stood up and wrapped his arms around her. Her hands went to his head as he kissed her from behind. They pushed and thrust at each other and he was simply amazed at how eager she was for him. He envied her previous boyfriends and he knew there had been at least three of them over the years.

He guided her to the tall bed and helped her get up on it.

She shrieked with suprise and laughter as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her back. Now she was face down on the comforter and she felt Mike get himself between her legs.

"Ohhhh." was all she could say as Mike found her wetness and pushed himself into her. She tried to move but he put a hand on the small of her back to hold her down as he fucked her.

"God, this is so crazy!" she said.

It felt good.

Pamela thought about her father fucking her best friend and thought that he deserved having his own daughter fucked by one of his own best friends. She was enjoying the fuck and she was enjoying her act of defiance.

Mike bottomed out in her making her give out a little, "Ooomph!"

The sensation made a thought register with her and she tensed up, "Hey, you put on a condom, right?"

Mike didn't break his rhythm as he replied, "Of course not, I don't have any."

Pamela sobered up as much as she could, "What the fuck? You gotta stop...I'm not protected!"

"Okay, just a little bit more and I'll stop..."

He felt her legs start to flex and move and then he could feel the girl trying to pull herself away from him. His hands went to her waist and pulled her back against his crotch as he decided that it was time to seal the deal.

Pamela had forgotten all about her defiance and instead was now focused on trying to get herself away from the cock that was busy pounding away in what she knew was her ripe, fertile pussy.

"Mike...please..."

With a growl he fucked her harder and then slammed home as his cock erupted into her belly.

Pamela had tried to avoid it but once it started she felt her body just freeze as she lay there taking her very first load of baby batter.

* * *

Keith and Lori...

Keith had managed to get Lori down the path to his cabin when the dark haired beauty went limp in his arms.

He picked her up and carried her to his cabin, awkwardly opening and closing the door while holding the lithe girl in his arms. He managed to flick on a small night light and then safely carried the girl to the bedroom, softly setting her down on the big fluffy bed.

She was dressed for the night with her soft flannel pajamas and he found her to be so wonderfully cute! His hands ran over her bare ankles as his cock started to swell with anticipation.

"Lori?" he whispered.

"Wharrrrr?" she barely responded.

"Can you sit up a moment?"

A sound of exasperation came out of her as she tried to sit up. He grabbed her top and pulled it over her head and then the girl flopped back on the bed and slipped back into her alcohol-fueled stupor.

Keith stared at her for a moment and then looked out his window to see the lights go out in Dan's cabin. He thought about how Mike was going to fuck Pamela and then his mind wandered to Dan claiming the cute Katy.

And here was Lori topless on his bed. Waiting for him. He let his hand drift to her breast and then he leaned down to suckle on the girl and he was pleased when her nipple hardened for him.

That made up his mind and he went to her waist and gently worked her pajama bottoms and panties off in one smooth move.

In the dim light he beheld her lovely trim form and then he reached out to touch her belly.

"Gawww, fuck...." she croaked and then rolled over onto her side. Now she was on her side with one leg straight out and the other to one side. Keith thought for a moment that the girl resembled a number 4.

Lori's manuver had inadvertently exposed her pussy to Keith's hungering eyes.

At the risk of waking her again he tentatively brushed a finger lightly along the length of her pussy. The girl didn't respond. Her pussy wasn't that of a more experienced woman and the thought that he might be the first to claim her thrilled him.

He gently pushed a single finger into her delicate flower and found it snug and warm. A deeper probing also found it to be moistening and soon he was giving her a gentle finger fuck. A second finger joined the first and the girl mewled a bit with what he knew was a sensation of stretching.

Keith was now certain that he would be Lori's first lover.

He got onto the bed behind her and straddled her outstretched leg. Then he scooted himself closer to her prize and was thrilled as his cock brushed along the impossibly soft skin of her inner thigh.

His cock bumped and rubbed along Lori's tight slit and then he pushed her free leg up a little further. Her pussy opened up just enough that his cock poked into her just enough.

Keith gently pressed himself against Lori's virgin pussy and briefly had a pang of conscience as he was about to claim the slumbering girl.

Then he thought of his own daughter Pamela getting fucked raw by Mike and he pushed.

Lori was only dimly aware of an unfamiliar sensation of pressure as Keith's cock pried and pushed its way into her pussy. She moved back at it to try to dislodge it only to feel it push deeper into her body. It was almost uncomfortable but then she pushed back again and paradoxically it drove deeper and easier.

Keith was pleasantly surprised when Lori pushed back at him a few times. Then she pushed and arched her back at the same time and his cock found the well of her moisture. It was a feeling of relief as her body opened up to him to allow his cock to fully slip inside. He sighed with the sensation of pussy wrapped around his cock...it had been so long since the last time...since before the divorce from Pamela's mother.

Lori seemingly returned to her slumber and Keith started a gentle, slow fuck of the girl. Everything seemed hazy to her but she was aware enough to know that there was someone else on the bed with her and that the pressure she felt inside her belly was connected to it. She felt warm and secure and there was something else she felt and she knew she liked it.

Keith absolutely savored fucking the girl. Each slow stroke he pushed all the way into her until his cock could go no further and then he very slowly withdrew only to do it all over again.

He wanted to bury himself to the root but their position didn't make that possible. He pushed on her leg and the flexible girl responded by bringing it almost to her chest.

Now he was able to full embed himself in her and he did. His balls were caressed by her soft thigh beneath them and the slight sound of their bodies together reached his ear.

It had simply been too long for him and with little chance to hold it off he felt it coming. The sensation deep in his groin rapidly grew and then he stabbed himself deep into the girl causing her to gasp. He held onto her as his cock spewed rope after rope of his pent-up seed deep into the girl's pussy. His gentleness was overcome by need and he fucked her hard in an instinctive need to seed the girl as much as he could and he was rewarded with a second flurry of excruciatingly wonderful spasms.

When he started to ram the girl as fast as he could she stirred from her slumber just enough to know she was feeling satisfied in a way she'd never felt before.

Lori smiled to herself and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

The sunrise comes early in northern British Columbia in June and so did three very horny men.

* * *

Mike was the first to wake up and as soon as he saw his naked bedmate he was instantly hard. Pamela was laying on her back with her arms over her head so for Mike it was a simple matter of holding her wrists with one hand and then rolling himself on top of her. She woke up confused as he did this and before she could gather her wits he slipped into her semen-slickened pussy and started fucking her. She was going to complain about the condom thing again but instead decided that it was nice to fuck bare and that she'd just sort it out later. Despite her acceptance of the situation she was still rather scared and awed when the older man's cock seeded her for a second time.

* * *

Lori woke up to Keith spooned up to her. It felt nice. He was warm and his arms were wrapped around her. But she became aware of his body moving behind her and then the full sensation inside her pussy came to her...and a rising pleasure, too. She realized that she was finally having sex! She knew there was something to worry about but her body was right then overriding her wisdom. The pleasure rose in her belly and she grabbed Keith's arm and held on as she felt her very first cock-induced orgasm. She was breathlessly recovering her senses when Keith held her tight and drove his cock deep into her pussy as he blew.

* * *

Katy woke before Dan did and she just lay in the bed looking around for a while as she contemplated the situation. Looking at Dan she saw her friend's father on his back and soundly slumbering. He didn't notice when she pulled down the blankets to get a look at him. Her soft hand grasped his limp cock and she applied her experience as she played with it and encouraged it to grow. Looking at the tip she imagined it buried in her pussy and belching cum and the vision got her thinking. The whole picture was so wrong and somehow that made it even sexier.

Dan woke to Katy moving to straddle him. His hands went to her waist and she smiled as she guided his cock into her pussy. Then she settled down and rested her weight on him with his cock deeply embedded in her. The two of them started to move together with Katy grinding herself into Dan every now and again. It wasn't long before she came and as she did she felt Dan filling her up with his morning seed.

* * *

When the three couples met for breakfast they were pretty quiet.

Pamela broke the strained silence by simply stating the obvious, "Everyone at this table fucked someone else last night. I know it, you know it, let's just say it and move on 'cause this quiet thing isn't going to work for me."

After that the honesty flowed.

The girls expressed their concerns especially about the possibility of getting pregnant. The men spoke their peace for the most part and then let the girls vent some more.

Later in the day the three girls gathered their things from their respective father's cabins and then moved in with their respective lovers.

When the night finally arrived the three couples went their separate ways to start another very busy night.

* * *

When September arrived it was obvious to everyone that it had been a very fertile summer.

　

　

　

[virtual-lara]

FHM - Rhona Mitra Interview

Interview appeared in the November 1997 issue of FHM magazine. Article was written up on fansite 'The Tomb Raider Archive'. VL Note: This interview is long and it is full of awful non-gaming questions with some cringey answers, but it was conducted in 1997 for a mens magazine.

Sex and videogames don't usually mix too well. Indeed, the popular view is that men who play them have such poor complexions and social skills that they've been forced to replace the pleasures of the flesh with bashing the hell out of pixellated monsters. In short, successful users of the chat-up line "I've top scored on Story Of Thor 2" are few and far between.

However, there is one exception to the rule. In November 1996, Tomb Raider appeared, featuring the adventures of Lara Croft. The premise of the game was that Lara, the daughter of an English aristocrat, had decided to forego her inheritance in favour of travelling around the world in search of ancient artefacts. As with most adventure games, this involved plenty of running, jumping, swimming and shooting. But unlike other games, its central character became the computer world's first sex symbol, and Lara Croft quickly catapulted Tomb Raider to the top of the games charts. With her ample chest and powerful thighs, Lara was created as the gamer's ultimate fantasy figure and the strategy worked.

Now, for the imminent release of the sequel, Tomb Raider 2, Lara is made flesh. And fortunately for us, it's in the form of 22-year-old actress Rhona Mitra, a woman sexy enough to equal the charms of the video character. As well as appearing in the press campaign for Tomb Raider 2, Rhona has recorded an album as Lara (produced by ex-Eurythmics guitarist Dave Stewart), from which the single, Getting Naked, is to be released next month. There is even talk of a Tomb Raider movie, for which Rhona ought to be a shoe-in for the lead role - a heady jump from her last big part, playing a teenage seductress in Jilly Cooper's The Man Who Made Husbands Jealous.

So, to celebrate the arrival of the new sexiest woman in Britain, what did we do? Take lots of fantastic pictures of her? Of course. Ask her a shed-load of questions about what it's like to play a character invented to satisfy the libido if a twenty-something programmer? Certainly. But first we took her to London's Trocadero centre to see if she could cut the mustard in the original gaming arena - an amusement arcade.

The truth is, she's pretty adept. She powers past three (male) opponents on an arm wrestling machine, gives a credible display at dynamo-hockey and is equally at ease bombing about on the virtual skate-boards. Her strongest suit, though, is the bowling range. After a slow start, three spares in a row see her powering into the lead as FHM skew another ball into the gutter.Only two consecutive(and highly suspicious) zero scores in the last two rounds barred the way to victory. And perhaps not surprising for a woman who's beaten stiff competition to play the most lusted after computer game character of all time, she doesn't accept second place for long. "I let you win, you know," she smiles triumphantly.

FHM:

Games fans are notoriously obsessive. Are you ready to be pursued by blokes thinking that you really are Lara Croft?

Rhona Mitra:

After The Man Who Made Husbands Jealous I had a lot of bizarre fan mail. I remember receiving a beautifully-typed letter from twelve boys in Exeter asking if I'd marry them all. Apparently I was supposed to be shared on some kind of weekly rota system. I was thinking, "Hmm, two a day. How am I supposed to manage that?" And I've already had people post notes on the Lara Croft website thanking me for improving their sex-lives.

FHM:

And how exactly have they done that?

Rhona Mitra:

They get their girlfriends to dress up as Lara, like I do. Apparently, it works wonders for them - maybe it's the rubber outfit.

FHM:

Do you think it's scary that there are men out there fantasising over a computer-generated character?

Rhona Mitra:

No, because men will fantasise about anything. Compared to a sheep or whatever, I think Lara's quite a healthy fantasy. What's wrong with wanting to sleep with a computer-generated character? She's got a perfect figure after all.

FHM:

Talking of perfect figures, there was a story in the tabloids about you having a breast enlargement operation performed by your dad...

Rhona Mitra:

That was rubbish. My dad is a surgeon and he does do cosmetic surgery, but he doesn't perform breast operations. I don't think he was too bothered about it, though - apparently a load of people phoned up the hospital where he works, the next day asking for tits like Rhona Mitra.

FHM:

But you have had your breasts enlarged.

Rhona Mitra:

Yes, but my dad had nothing to do with it.

FHM:

Where does the name Mitra come from?

Rhona Mitra:

It's Indian - my dad is from Calcutta. But I'm also part Irish. It's a confusing heritage. I never know if want to be running across fields with no clothes on or sitting in the pub drinking Guinness.

FHM:

The Lara Croft single is called Getting Naked. When was the last time you were naked in a public place?

Rhona Mitra:

I don't think going starkers in a public place is especially commendable. You can go to Stringfellow's for that. Although they don't get it all off there, do they? The song is really about one night stands and a woman saying that she'll go so far but not the whole hog. Why does all frolicking have to end in penetration?

FHM:

Does Lara have sex, then?

Rhona Mitra:

I should bloody well hope so. I'm sure she wouldn't be the woman she is unless she did.

FHM:

You recorded half the album sailing down the Amazon in Dave Stewert's boat. If the boat had run aground, would you have been prepared to eat him in order to survive?

Rhona Mitra:

Hmm, he hasn't really got enough fat on him...

FHM:

That beard might have been a bit tough to chew as well. Maybe you could have stuck it on your face when you'd finished eating the rest of him.

Rhona Mitra:

I would have worn the beard proudly. It's a fine feature.

FHM:

You were expelled from two boarding schools. Naughty girl, were you?

Rhona Mitra:

No, I just had a problem with complying with the rules. I went to convent school and it was totally ridiculous. We weren't even allowed to go into town at the weekend. So we used to nick holy wine from the church and drink it in the potato patch at the back of the school. I remember one time me and a few girls ended up dancing in the garden at four in the morning, wearing nothing but wellington boots.

FHM:

Is that why they kicked you out?

Rhona Mitra:

No, that was for taking a sixth former's car and driving it down to the local boys' school. I was only about fourteen. I'd left stuffing under my bedsheets but one of my friends told on me and the headmistress tracked me down. They put me in this room with bars on the windows to punish me. I was stuck in there for a whole week with just a rosary for comfort, having my dinner brought in on trays. The only time I got out was to say confession to the school priest. After that, they booted me out. Then at the next school the other girls used to blame me whenever they got caught for something, so all the parents wrote in and said they didn't want me at the school. I crammed my exams in London and did fine.

FHM:

You recently said that Lara represents the woman of the future. So what is the woman of the future going to be like?

Rhona Mitra:

She'll be more robust. In order to be strong in the mind, women are going to have to build up their bodies. Having a big arse will be alright, having a big pair of breasts will be alright, as long as they exercise as well.

FHM:

We had a discussion in the office about men of the future, and we reckon that evolution will make their heads and penises bigger.

Rhona Mitra:

Sounds good to me.

FHM:

Okay. Let's test your credentials for playing Lara Croft. To start with, when was the last time you raided a tomb?

Rhona Mitra:

Er, I haven't. I only raid my friends' wardrobes. And my dad's drinks cabinet when I was a kid.

FHM:

Would you take on a bear unarmed?

Rhona Mitra:

I'd probably try and cuddle and sweet-talk it. I've charmed men worse than bears.

FHM:

Can you handle yourself in a fight?

Rhona Mitra:

Absolutely. I had the whole Swiss army after me once. I was skiing with friends and we were getting hassled by some guys who wanted us to dance. They ended up calling us dykes and then turned nasty. I kicked one in the ribcage. It turned out that he was with a load of Swiss army guys and they chased us up the road. We ran faster than them, though.

FHM:

Some Tomb Raider websites feature a nude Lara Croft. Would you ever emulate them and do Playboy?

Rhona Mitra:

I'd never say never. But not right now. It's not even negotiable.

FHM:

What about the orgasmic noises Lara makes when she bumps into walls? Have you been perfecting those?

Rhona Mitra:

Oh yes, of course. Listen. [Makes weird orgasmic noise not unlike "Uuh!"]

FHM:

Lara spends most of her time in caves full of gun-wielding nutters. What's the most dangerous situation you've been in?

Rhona Mitra:

I got buried under sand in Tunisia. I've just shot a film there called A Kid In The Arabian Knights. We were supposed to be mocking up this sandstorm and I was buried right up past my head, but I couldn't breathe because the sand was so heavy. I had to breath through a bamboo straw for about twenty minutes. The crew were getting their cameras up and I was screaming "Hurry the fuck up, I'm dying under here."

FHM:

Did you used to play computer games when you were growing up? I remember getting hooked Jet Set Willy on the ZX Spectrum.

Rhona Mitra:

I had an Atari. I used to play that tennis game where you had two bats at either end of the screen and had to try and keep the ball in play.

FHM:

You mean Pong!

Rhona Mitra:

That's the one. But I used to do a lot of things to entertain myself. Do you remember those portable tape recorders that had flat speakers on the top? I used to put a piece of cellophane on top of the speaker and crumble biscuits on top of it. I'd then play Super Trooper by Abba at full volume and watch the crumbs jump up and down with the vibrations.

FHM:

Blimey. You were easily pleased.

Rhona Mitra:

That's not all. I loved pouring yoghurt all over my dog and watching him lick it off himself. And when my parents had dinner parties I'd chop up his dog food into chunks, put cocktail sticks in it and then walk around the living room in a sari asking if anyone wanted hors d'oeuvres.

FHM:

The guests must have loved you. Have you carried any bizarre habits or phobias into adulthood?

Rhona Mitra:

I can't sit still. That's why I'm very difficult in a relationship. Men get jealous of me travelling - they don't understand that just because I disappear on my own doesn't mean I'm going to shag someone else.

FHM:

Have you always been faithful?

Rhona Mitra:

Always. But I can appreciate why people wouldn't be. It's like ice-cream - you can really love vanilla, but you still want to try some other flavours just to make sure that you really do love vanilla best. I haven;t actually been out with that many men. I've been in two relationships which have taken up five years of my life. The second one of those recently ended and since then I've concentrated on my work.

FHM:

What kind of man do you go for?

Rhona Mitra:

I like healthy-looking guys with good, clean skin. And I like men who have brains but are still very childish. Immature guys.

FHM:

Are you actually any good at Tomb Raider?

Rhona Mitra:

Yeah. I finished it in about two weeks.

FHM:

I heard that Bruce Willis has bought the rights to the Tomb Raider movie and that Demi Moore is pencilled in to play Lara. Could you have her?

Rhona Mitra:

Oh yeah, of course.

FHM:

Be careful. After filming GI Jane, she's quite buff these days.

Rhona Mitra:

So am I. And I'm younger than her. The idea of her playing Lara is sacrilege. She has to be a posh English girl with a stiff upper lip.

FHM:

Finally, elsewhere in this issue we discuss the phenomenon of lesbianism. Have you ever been tempted by the charms of another girl?

Rhona Mitra:

Any woman who says she hasn't isn't truly a woman. Even if you don't go as far as doing something physical, you should be able to appreciate the female form. Men are beautiful too, though.

All rights belong to FHM and/or their affiliated companies. I only intend to introduce people to old articles and preserve them before they are lost.

[paperwayne]

snapshot.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You” ➡ 23. Taking a picture together to print and hang later.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 2,095 words

Warnings: Mild violence

“Nightwing! On your left!”

“Got it!” Dick shouts, twisting out of harm’s way. A split second later, he spins around and lands a blow on the screaming android.

Two more come your way. You leap onto the shoulders of one and slap an explosive onto its chest, jumping onto another android right before it goes off. Hot shrapnel cuts into your cape as acrid smoke fills your nose.

“I gotta say – hah! – this is not what I had in mind when you invited me to the mall,” you yell over the chaos.

Dick skids over to your side. His escrima sticks crackle with electricity – and in a moment, he stuffs them into an android’s eye sockets. “Trust me, this wasn’t on the agenda. I wanted to sh – oof! – show you the new photography studio. It’s Wild West-themed.”

“You don’t say?” You link elbows with Dick and he swings you into a robot feet-first. “That’s cool. You know I always want to party with you, cowboy.”

“Aw, you flatter me, Blackfinch.”

Pain shoots through your shoulder right before you can reply. Grunting in pain, you reach up and grab the android behind you, heaving it over you and into the ground. The white tile shatters.

“You okay?” Dick asks. You tear your attention away from the throbbing in your arm and see that he’s fighting the last android; it’s barely standing.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply. “Gonna have a nasty bruise, though.”

“Hm –” Dick crouches low and knocks the android down with a sweep of his leg. A well-aimed stomp to its neck ends its rampage, and you watch intently as the neon green of its eyes fade into gray. Guarded relief washes over you the same time your adrenaline rush begins to die. 

After surveying the ransacked left wing of the mall, the two of you make your way over to each other.

“You didn’t break anything, right?” Dick asks, brow furrowing.

“Believe me, I would know if something was broken.” You pat his chest, gesturing with your chin at the blaring lights outside the exit. “Look like the police finally arrived.”

While he glances over at the police cars parked on the other side of the doors, you gingerly rub your shoulder and bend over to inspect one of the hunks of metal. “So – I’m guessing this is Glass’s work.”

Dick’s mildly concerned gaze quickly narrows when you show him the patterning on the interior. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Wanna bet how quickly we can track him down?”

You raise a brow underneath your cowl. Putting away his escrima sticks, Dick looks down at your outstretched hand and smirks.

“Nope,” he replies. “Not gonna risk it all this time, Blackfinch.”

—

“You know, there’s an old-time photography studio uptown. Not Wild West, but close enough.”

You catch a falling drop of melted ice cream, looking over Dick’s shoulder as he scrolls through his phone. It really is admirable, how determined he is to find a good studio, but you’re quickly distracted by the tangy creaminess of blackberry cheesecake. (You think this particular distraction is well-deserved, though – what was meant to be a one-hour skirmish ended up being a two-hour long battle against Glass’s toys, and by the time the two of you managed to turn him in, both you and Dick were pretty damn sore).

“You really want this photoshoot done, huh, Grayson?” You pause to bite into your ice cream, letting out a pleased hum as it coats your tongue; so expensive, but so worth it. “What’s with the sudden interest?”

He shrugs. “I just think it’d be fun. A ridiculous photoshoot’s a pretty good idea,” Dick reasons, showing you the route to Bearon’s Studio. “See? It’s only a few blocks away.”

“Okay. Let’s go, then.”

Your companion nods just as an explosion rocks the ground. Your ice cream scoop falls to the ground as you stumble and regain your footing, looking up to see smoke billowing from a nearby building.

“Seriously?” Dick groans.

As if on cue, a cloaked figure jumps out from a window and hits the ground running. There’s a maniacal cackle, and you sigh.

“Guess we’re going in a different direction, Dick.”

—

The runaway criminal ends up being a petty thief-turned-pyromaniac due to some street drug with a name too vulgar for public ears. You would have been glad that he wasn't a big-time villain with ulterior motives, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was an absolute pain in the ass to finally get him cornered and secured. To add to the picture, you now have teeth indentations on the same arm that got bruised in the first fight.

At least it's over now, though. Maybe if you and Dick hurry, the studio will still be –

“Closed?” Dick exclaims, hands gripping the door handles. The interior of the place is shrouded in darkness, and right near Dick's shoulder on the other side hangs a sign that reads “CLOSED” in dark, red print. “It’s not even close to six yet!”

“Guess they closed early.” You press your forehead into the glass and squint inside. Nothing happens. (You’re sort of relieved that nobody jumps out of the shadows at you and Dick.)

Dick’s hands drop down to his sides, and his head soon plonks against the door next to yours. “Man,” he sighs.

You turn to look at him. There are many expressions that look lovely on Dick’s face, some more than others, but disappointment is not one of them. It prompts you to think, and you tap on the door in thought, lips puckering.

Finally, you stand straight and snap your fingers. Dick raises an eyebrow.

“I’ve got it. Follow me.”

“Uh … okay.” Dick runs across the street after you, catching up in two quick strides. “Where are we going?”

You flash him a quick smile. “My grandpa’s house.”

Dick’s noise of surprise turns your smile into a smirk. The relationship between the two most important men in your life isn’t sour by any means, but your grandfather never really cared about social cues, and the most uncomfortable moments of your teenage life had resulted from his comments whenever you and Dick stood in the same room. You’ve gotten more used to his ways by now – which is nice – but still, you’re glad you don’t have to think about what he might say today.

“Don’t worry,” you assure Dick, running down the stairs toward the subway. “He’s out on business.”

Your childhood home was a penthouse suite. Fifteen years living the high-class life there, and not once had your grandfather renovated the place in any way, shape, or form; so after you and Dick finally reach the top floor and greet Miss Paula, it doesn’t take too long to find The Room.

“Okay,” you murmur to yourself, keeping ahold of Dick’s hand as you walk past your old bedroom, feeling your way down the hallway. Eventually, you reach a door with a keypad. “Aha.” Six digits, all in quick succession. “Behold.”

“… No way.” Dick walks over to the far corner as you flip on the light, gazing up at the array of hats hung onto the wall. Carefully, he takes one of them and examines the dark leather, lips curling into an incredulous grin. “How come I’ve never seen this place before?”

You take the hat from him and place it ceremoniously onto his head. “Grandpa’s way protective of his cowboy stuff. He only let me in here once I turned eighteen, and only responsible family and the closest of our friends can come in here.” Reaching around him, you grab a lasso off its hook and give it to Dick. “Here.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes trying on different combinations of hats and boots, modeling for each other and laughing your heads off like a pair of teenager. You tie a red handkerchief around Dick’s neck and fit him with a vest. He finds a giant wagon wheel hidden behind some crates and has you pose in front of it, expression deadly serious for historical accuracy. Finger guns complete the outfit.

“We don’t have a camera from the nineteenth century, but a filter’s the next best thing,” you state, rotating your camera around for a selfie. It takes a bit of stretching to include your enormous hats, but you manage. “Smile!”

Dick squishes his cheek against yours, and you can feel some stubble scraping against your skin as you take the shot. Your phone flashes and you bring it back down to check the result.

“Heh, you’re blinking.”

“You’re blurry.”

“It’s cute anyway,” Dick concludes, arm still wrapped around you as he favorites the picture.  “Text it to me, will ya?”

“I’ll do you one better and get it printed out at Walmart. This one should be framed and hung up,” you reply.

“You’re right.”

While Dick takes a moment to send one of the pictures to his siblings, you take off the two ten-gallon hats stuffed onto your head. The boots and spurs follow after a bit of difficulty. Your handkerchiefs go back into the drawers, the lasso back on its hook. It doesn’t take terribly long to put everything away, and when the two of you finish, the room looks exactly like it had before. (Who said that attention to detail was only applicable in the field?)

“Well, that was fun,” Dick laughs, hands on his hips as he surveys the hat collection one last time. “I’m actually glad we did this instead of the studio, to be honest.”

“I agree.”

Miss Paula is still, oddly enough, dusting the furniture when you and Dick come back to the foyer; she raises an eyebrow as the two of you walk to the elevator, all twin grins and muffled snorts.

“I hope you kids enjoyed yourselves,” she calls after you as the doors slide open, pointing her duster suspiciously in your direction. Her lips are pursed, but a twinkle shines in her eye.

You beam innocently. “We did. Send Grandpa our regards, please.”

“Mmhm.”

The doors close. Dick turns to you, eyes alight with mirth. “I hope your grandpa won’t be mad that we used his stuff for a photoshoot.”

“Nah, he’d have a heyday if he caught us. He’d probably want to hire a photographer and everything,” you snort, shaking your head.

He chuckles. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Glancing over at him, you will your next words to be light. “I mean – he always thought we looked cute together, remember?”

“He did.”

Dick’s reply is a mix between a question and a statement – you’re not sure which one it is, and when you try to read his face you don’t get much of an answer. His eyes flit to meet yours, and the slightest of smiles graces his lips for a moment before it’s replaced by a thoughtful look.

You instinctively turn your attention towards the steadily decreasing floor number above the buttons. There’s no elevator music, so now all you can hear is the sound of your breathing and Dick’s breathing, and god, the awkwardness is back again. Geez Louise. Why did you have to say that? That was years ago. Your grandpa probably only liked pairing you up with Dick because he thought it’d be funny.

“I think he was right.”

Your brain short-circuits. “… Huh?”

Dick leans back with his elbows against the rail, staring up at the floor number with you. Six, five, four. “We would be cute together. Hypothetically, you know.”

“Hypothetically.” You swallow, bracing yourself against the wall when the elevator suddenly stops at the ground floor. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pause.

“Hey, remember when your grandpa made all of us ride on his Fourth of July float that one summer?”

His voice cuts through your fretting. You cling onto the new subject, and it’s thankfully easy to laugh once you refocus. “How could I forget that? God, he embarrassed me so much when I was in high school.”

“It was Wild West-themed, wasn’t it? I forgot that part until today.”

“It was. Damn, that actually makes it more embarrassing.”

“I need to look for pictures of that parade – oh, speaking of which, remember. To print out the photos.”

His expression’s solemn, and you roll your eyes and nudge him with your shoulder. “I’ll remember, Grayson. First thing after work tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he says. “I’m counting on you, partner.”

“And I’ve never let you down,” you respond.

Dick grins. He gives you a squeeze around your waist, looking down the street as you both walk towards the subway.

“Nope. Not once.”

__

[50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You” prompt list (requests using this prompt list are openCLOSED)]

[midnightwaters65]

Coronavirus

Genre: Oneshot

Summary: Your stuck in the house with Jungkook and soon you'll end up alone....

Word count: Confession😆 Including the mistakes. Editing on here is difficult.😅

His parents are my OCs.

Authors Note: Do you guys want me to make a kinemaster? If so please leave a like and comment to watch this instead. This whole story is a teaser😆💜

"Welcome! Welcome"! Your mom invited her friends inside the house. My dad and I helped the suitcase my mom put on the porch for us too pull up in the living room.

This was a bad time of world going through a terrible time called the Coronavirus. They pulled hundreds of students put of their schools. News, commercials, Ads, tells us too stay home and wash our hands.

My mom knocked my room door to tell me a couple and their one son was spending a night a couple of says. Friends from South Korea was coming too vist for a new home and Job at [Your State/Town]. The airport was closed.....this was good. I jogged to see if their were more luggages and that was it. I watched a scene outside of my mom friend says [Your/moms/name]. Hugging her in a tight hug.

"Awe! I'm so happy your staying here", My mom shrieks. "But oooo I'm so sorry you can't go home for the moment". I herd my dads loud trunk van shut tightly. My dad and the womans husband already had passed me. My mom did tell me she had a son. (😳)

There was a boy that was my age. He had a unique name because I've never heard of that name before.....right now. I just forgot everything existed.

"Helllo! Y/n"!

My heart gaped. I sucked in my stomach trying not too make a scene of making a mistake in front of a cute boy.

"This is my bestfriend Seo-Yun! We used to work together at the same job", Shes says rejoiced hugging her against her side. Seo-Yun smokes just excited as her. "Yes! Your mother is just the best! Without your mom I would have NOT know where too go. Gosh! We already spend way too much money on these hotels -".

I laugh at these moments. When a person talks to you , telling how your feeling but goes on how their day has been.

I giggled, we all do that when your happy.

"Oh! Jungkook! [Y/m] you've met my son", Seo-Yun says proudly.

I stayed on the porch watching how he reacts, listens,.....talks. I couldn't smiled but fighting back a smile. I was excited.

I pretend I was cool and my anxiety got the best of me. When his mom was introducing him to my mom. He popped off his headphones and quickly wrapping around his iPhone leaving it in one hand to shaking hands with her with his free hand. I didn't see him smile because he was wearing a black colored facemask. From protecting him. I was sighing. He looks good for being careful. The corner of his eyes curves to show that he was smiling. He kept looking down when my mom was embarrassing him with the 'good looking' comments. I couldn't think of anything else but actually agreeing with her. She was doing me a favor.

"Yes! The handsome devil Jeon Jungkook"!

He looks at her and chuckles down saying , "Its nice too meet you".

I looked away at the moment to smile behind me. They were on the sidewalk not close nor to far. But hearing him speak, he was as shy as I was.

" Yes Jeongguk here keeps growing and growing and growing! It took him a very long time too agree too come here. He shy at times but when he really gets too know you ; I ask him how he gotten so confident! Such a talented boy! His voice- oh gosh I heard they have a karaoke here! Such beautiful voice"-. While the time his mother kept on going, he was looking away like he wasn't there. He zoomed out NOT to be in this conversation anymore. I was happy! After the whole month of suffering on schools work on the internet. This was entertaining than ANY youtube vidoe.

"Oh gosh! Please let's go in! Let's go in", My mom interrupted. But not on purpose. The weather was nasty. The mist began to feel humid. Tiny drips of water began to fall on the car windows for proof it's about to start raining. Before my mother turned around I quickly ran back inside so they wouldn't see me eavesdropping. Like it would've mattered. I jogged in the kitchen for some water. My dad and Seo-Yun husband was talking about jobs and the risk of the Coronavirus.

" Y/n", My mother calls me in the living room. I was nervous. Like this was a life or death situation. I looked at my clothes and felt a confident of my choice of style today. Wasn't a flirty vibe but it was casual. I checked my teeth in my reflection on the cleaned stove and slap lightly my cheeks too be ready. My dad and his new friend left the kitchen early too meet Seo-Yun.

As I was walking, my heart was speeding. I was actually going to be in a room with a cute boy who's not just visiting- STAYING here for more than two nights. And hes talented!

I acted like how I normally walked in my living room and saw Jungkook sitting on the couch. Going through his phone like any teenager would. My chance of catching of his attention wasn't impossible. It's the fact HOW would I?

"I want you too meet Jungkook", My mom says forwards too me. With a secret wink. I blushed , only because she knows theres a boy in the house and normally I don't....act cool around boys. "He's shy! Say hi too him"!

I frowned at my mom not to do this. SEO-Yun energy felt like she KNEW. And she was okay with it.

"Ya! Jeongguk", His mom calls out.

He snapped his phone off and stands up. My legs almost began too wobble when I couldn't stand. He looked like those eboy tik toker but way better. Way hotter. Does he do Tik Tok? He become famous! His mask wasnt fully off but under his chin.

His smiles at me reaching for my hand. I was going to shake his hand. I wanted to shake his hand. I commanded to shake his hand. But I was looking down at it. Puzzle must've been on my face because I was staring at it!!! STILL. NOT. MOVING.

For a minute he pulled his hand away nervously and just gave me a hesitant nod.

I quickly received it and started shaking.

I began to smile and laugh. Scratching the back of my head after pulling my hand away.

"Its very nice to meet you! I'm ugh- I'm [Y/n]"!

He looks behind me and our mothers must've been watching us. His face was speaking to his mom like he needed permission to speak too me. But he looked back to me and acted everything was fine.

"Hi. Nice too meet you". He bows. Than clears his throat looking away.

I just watched him. A blush after he bowed. I know he was being polite but I didn't know what to say to that. I herd my mom speak behind me , I had too look away too. This tense tension was getting on my nervous. Only because I wasn't confident than I thought I had. I wasn't popular in school. But I had enough friends that I've never rarely felt cautious how I reacted with. Just seeing him...I was wondering what he must be thinking. Going spend a night in a stranger's house? I would be homesick with a fit!

"Jungkook! You must see your room"-.

Let's just say dinner time came. After what happend in the living room was worse! Going to school , obviously I don't speak to my crushes. So it's easy to say to make a move. Become close with them. To actually do it. I called [ Bestfriend ]! And when it comes to times like this, they never help! I'm always that to come down. I get off the phone with my friend, turn off the music and use the bathroom. Watching Jeongguk leave the room as late as I was. Butterflies in my stomach turned into cramps. I finally walked down the stairs. Yawning. The smell was nice and it was turkey. Looking on the table - dame! There was more than turkey! It was a feast! A table that made it look like Thanksgiving! All the adults were talking. There was Jungkook sitting at the end of the table next to his dad. He had headphones on and he looked down every 5seconds to look on his phone.

Silly me! I was on my phone all day. It needed to be charged. My mom did call me to come downstairs a couple times but since she was talking to her bestfriend she didnt see a long time. I wasn't notice at the table. Cause of my anxiety, that never bothers me. For boring 5mins I was hearing my parents conversation separate and togther about how, why and when. Time to time my eyes watched Jungkook like a stalker. He just was being himself. Eating looking through his phone. Not paying attention too anything else. When he decide to look up, he didn't watch me. He was looking at his own dad who was now speaking proudly of him.

"Jungkook here been doing all kinds of things. Choir, call kawtaedo, dancing, his friends say hes good at insterments. He's been joining a lot of clubs"!

Jungkook took a earbud off and smiled shyly. He looked straight at him and says something I didn't understand in his language. "Couldn't do it without my parents support", He says korean. It sounded sweet. Jungkook mom messes her his hair. "Hes good at english but hes justbreally shy. I'm sad I have too put him in a middle of moving but we're still deciding".

So my MOM tested it. She asked him his school, who's his friends , what he liked for a hobby in english. I felt embarrassed...I kept my cool and smiled too myself how my mom is crazy. Honestly this was the only time I wish I could trade places in moments like these in life. His english was good. They weren't settled but they were better than what I could learn in [your struggle language class]. I liked what I was hearing. "Yes. It would be sad too love. I have 6 bestfriends waiting for me at home. We don't always join the same thing but we met after I auditioned for bighit. I still didn't get a call", He says softly. His voice wasn't too deep, or high, but it sounded calm and careful. I smiled. I couldn't look at him, he would have my attention 24/7 and I wouldn't hear a thing. My ears because too rang because goosebumps came to my arms. I felt cold...

"Yes. His friends also went in but no one has results because of this virus. Gosh! You have too hear him sing"!

His dad was all for it too. But Jungkook shook his head , waving his hands shyly no.

"Not today, not today! I'm p- pretty tired".

Every 'awe' at the table. I chuckled shaking my head. Bummer. "Y/n, after your done eating pull out my purse from the car please, I left it in there by accident", My mom says. I murmured, eating mash potatoes. "Okay".

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and decide to go get it anyways. My mom went back upstairs to use the bathroom.

Seo-Yun picked up her dish too grab more food on the big counter. I was beginning to head to the door. Grabbing the keys beside the microwave. "Jeongguk! Go out with her! I left my phone in there".

I froze with my hand on the door knob. I herd his "okay" from the kitchen. Should I wait for him? Should I leave? I caught his shadow put away his dish too. Coming closer, I started - running out the door and quickly opening the cars lock. I saw my moms purse in the back seat and I finally see him catching up. "Hey", He calls out for me. I pretend I was in my own world who finally herd him. "My mom left her phone", His eyes scammed for it. I searched for it too. I found it.

"Its on the front seat", I say jumping inside the car , grabbing onto it. When Jungkook received it from me, he smiles. "Thank you". Bowing. I thought this was the perfect time to say something! "You don't have too do that"! He was turning around too leave but he stopped looking at me puzzled. "Bow. I mean. You just. Seemed. Um. Tense". Maybe it wasn't.

"Oh", He smiles shyly again.

I nodded in an awkward silence. Than I use the not flirtous line. "If you need anything just ask me. If it goes by serious go by my parents".

He nods. "Thanks". He slowly finds his way to walk away. Finally for both of our sales he did.

I looked away , not looking back at him until he went back inside the house. He was wearing crops as shoes. In a random unmeaning thought , I didn't wear crops.

After my job was done. I went into my bedroom and stared at my door. No one was answering my calls and youtube wasn't distracting me. I was staring at my door. Didn't know if I showed cry or I should start giggling like a maniac.

He likes music.... I looked at my guitar. Walking closer to it, I started fiddling with it. I didn't know how to use it. My mom bought it for me because the school finally made a guitar class. Which I didn't get to start because it was my second quarter.I closed my eyes and started imagine if Jungkook suddenly appear and wanting to help me. I felt dum at the moment because that would've been a good question. "What music do you like"?

I started too sing my favorite song while fiddling a string to a tune. I sang it in different tones, giving myself a little credit at it. My ipad dinged. That was my homework..... I woke up at 2:00am wanting to pee. A silent voice came in front of me....

This was Jungkooks room. Right in front of MINE. His parents was next door. So was mine. Their rooms were for guests and we normally used them for random junk that we had too clean all day until they came the next. I watched the door. Blocking a sweet voice from the other side. But I couldn't stay longer, I had to pee. Than inward fully awake! I gasp , "Oh"!

He had open his door! He didn't notice me when he was leaving his room until I gasped. "Sorry", I said. He looked up at me and his wide eyes showed me he was startled too. "Sorry", He says in the same time. We both gave a nervous laugh. "So..need too pee", I asked. Like somehow that was a normal question! He nodded. "Someone was in there so I waited", He says pointing to a now empty bathroom.

I nodded dum founded. "Oo..well it's all yours! I needed some- um I need water"! I smiled widely. His look of convinced, did not give me strength. He stares at me like he wanted to say something but it wasnt his place to say. So instead I walked away. This was my first time holding it in when I wasn't the only woman in the house. -.-

Instead of grabbing water. I grabbed milk to try for a theory. I waited 3mins and Instill didn't hear the door open. I knew that because that's how long I left my milk-.

"Great! Its hot!", I groaned annoyed. I couldn't touch it. I hover my hand to feel the heat against my skin. My hearts poped. I hear someone coming. I closed the microwave. It was dark in the kitchen and the living room. Because of the night lights. I saw a figure coming by. "Jungkook"? I said blinking. First I assume he thought he looked other places until he finally noticed I wasn't sitting I was standing. He gave me a smile.

I was now puzzled.

"Its all yours", He says. He waved me a goodnight and walked away.

I looked back the microwave with a milk inside.....I wish I could fit in the microwave........

~●Next Morning●~

I was wearing blue sweatpants and a black hoodie. It wasn't looking but it was definitely not bad for him too see me on this. Styles, I didn't usually have favorites or diffrent actually. I never tried to impress a boy before. I sighed.

Opening my room door, Jungkook was coming from the the bathroom. He was off his phone. He was wearing a white tshirt with black pajama pants only. His hair was messing and his eyes seem droopy. He didn't notice me at all until I said "Goodmorning". He stopped and looked at me and says " Goodmorning ".

"Did you enjoy your sleep", I asked shyly.

He smiles nicely and starts to stretch. "Yes. Well. Kinda of. I was awake all night".

I laughed. "Me too! I was messing with my guitar", I lied. I was definitely not thinking of dum ways to die of an embarrassment.

He starts rubbing his eyes. "Oh", all he says. I smiled watching him. I wasn't a morning person either. He went back in his room. That's a sigh not to be seen again.

I stayed in my room too. Hearing two couples talking loudly upstairs. It was too the point I was walking back and fourth in my room to firgue out ways too get ways of him inside MY room. "What do you think Timmy", I asked my pink rabbit. "Should I make my move"? I pulled my stuffed pink bunny of my desk , pointing a ruler at it.

"Wait! Stop there Timmy! I think I know where your plan was going". I toss the ruler and at least put some socks on. My plan was to knock on his door.... he needs a friend? No ones telling me not to be.

I was here... 7 seconds I was here. Going to knock. I will knock. Yes I'm ready! What will a whore do? Was that even the right thing to ask? "She will knock"..... I thought shamelessly. I instead close a door. My door. "Timmy", I say slipping down on the floor. "Your fired".

Afternoon came by and I was playing the piano. I was thinking hundreds of way of an excuse to eat my room but I could lie and eat after they all fall asleep. I'll be hungry until than. I shook my head fiddling with the guitar again. "Mmm m mmm", I sang. A knock came from the door.

"Hey! Come down the dinners ready", My moms voice calls out for me.

I yawned out stretching, "I'll be there! I'm doing homework"! I scratch my head and put my sheets away. I stood up , wearing a white tshirt but I pull my black hoodie on top. Putting my hair in a messy bun, leaving the door.

~After Dinner~

"We should do karaoke", My mom says.

I choked on my water but still swallowed. It seems to catch Jungkook reaction too. The dinner was same as yesterday but the food was less. And the main meal was chicken. We were going to put away the plates but my mom made announcement "My husband found a karaoke box in our closet! Oh come on! It'll be much fun"!

I looked at Junkook who still didn't say anything but stare at her. Than we both looked at his mom. "Oh! That would be so much for Jeongguk"!

I smirked. This was fantastic! I can here what he's hiding! If he can sing, I would have something for him to sing me about while I'll help him with my -. "Don't worry Jungkook! You can sing any song you like", My mom says, "When we'll let Y/n tune anything she likes on her guitar I bought her"!

"Oh", Jungkook laughs bashfully. When I finally gone mad!

"Who's playing tunes"?????

She comes up to me and kissed my forehead. "Well I want to hear him sing. Unlike you sometimes, he goes out there and does a lot! Because hes always out there and doing things, I dont want him to stop now. I wanna hear"! She helps grab my plate.

"But I still dont know how to play", I mumble. Seo-Yun laughed out loud. "Are you kidding! I passed by your door and you seem really good at it. Jungkook here can play anything once he puts his mind to it! He can help teach you"!

"Oh! That would be nice", My mom says to her. They finally left with the living room with the men fixing the karaoke machine. I looked at Junkook who blinked the same time as I did.

My small desperate for Jungkook attention annoyed me a little when all I hear how he was better than me. I did things too! My parents even talk about me [ your past activities]. I scratched my head. I just didnt to much as he did. Did I?

"What was that one song we used to love to sing togther! Remember our works meeting at a restaurant!? They had a dance floor there", Seo-yun claps excitedly.

My mom kept slapping her thighs while laughing. "Oh gosh! Yes! Honey! Put it on"!

My dad grabbed the TV remote and clicked in the letters. Jungkook was on afar side of the couch smiling taking a sip of his coke can. Our dads were between us. Our moms was the first to be singing together.

🎙So tell me what you want. What you really really want🎙

🎙So tell me what you want. What you really really want🎙

🎙I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah🎙

I..was...dead....

"Mommy", I muffled in my couches pillow. I was looking away, laughing with the others. I felt as I'd this would never ended until they did. I closed my eyes clapping for them. "Perfect...that was...great".

They bowed down at their beautiful ✌singing ✌ and sat down on the couch. It was our dads turn but Seo-Yun gave it to Jungkook. He hesitated to stand. My own mom attacked me!

"Think fast", She says tossing me a mic. Luckily I did but confused.

"What's going on here"?

"Its your kids turn", She says ploping next to dad. I still didn't move but watch Jungkook, confidently walk up chosing a song. I felt my dad nudging me but I still didn't want to go. "Chose a song Y/n! Go help him"!

I whined standing up. Why does it always have to be me! I gazed at him closer and he was still finding a song. I watched how calmly he was acting. Rubbing his one eye to watch closer of the titles on the screen. He finally looks at me and I looked down at my mic. We never really done this before. It was nice to hold a mic like this.

Music was all I ever listen to but singing it for fun than random was strange to me.

I think it was because I get to sing with a cute boy. "Do you want to chose", He asks me. He hands me the remote. I was refusing not to but it tell me it was okay too. I didn't have a thought on my mind. Whatever song I was tuning into my room I was shy about it. So I played eeny, meeny, miny, moe in my head.

"Would you know this song", I asked.

He smiles and nodded. I smiled too.

🎙We don't talk anymore. We don't talk anymore. We don't talk anymore, like we used to🎙 ~ Jungkook.

🎙I just heard you found the one you've been looking. You've been looking for. I wish I would have known that wasn't me🎙 ~ Me.

🎙Don't wanna know. What kind of dress you're wearing tonight. If he's holding onto you so tight. The way I did before🎙~ Us

I almost lost my concentration. Hearing him sing, I felt cold when it was my turn. My voice was shaky because I was nervous. I even had to clear my voice between lines so I wouldn't have to mess up but I already missed a letter or forgot it was my turn. It was a bad idea to partner us togther. Listening to his voice I wish I could've have recorded. I gazed at him a couple of times too see how serious he looked. And that's how I felt when I was alone.

🎙Ooh, it's such a shame. That we don't talk anymore🎙~ Us.

Once it was finished. Our parents applause to us. I smiled widely. Laughing at finishing score. It was actually good. I was glad.

"You did really good", I told Jungkook proudly. I reach to pat his shoulder. Giving him my smile , he smiled back at me. He was. Already looking at me with curiosity eyes. "You did amazing", He says with a thumbs up.

I bit my lip. "Thanks". He laughs along with me. "Your really amazing", He tells me. I gave him suspicion look. "Thanks", I still said. "I really want to hear your solo..."

He shook his head. Using his index finger for a "🤫" he does with a smile. I nodded giving "👌okay" sigh.

Our parents were getting drunk...they were drinking alcohol during dinner. Now beer during taking turns with eachother. Jungkook sang with his dad even. I wasn't paying attention because my mom passed out on the couch. I started to slap her cheek gently saying bedtime. No. Still not there. "Jungkook", The only name I called for. He was staring at his own dad crawling into other couch sleeping.

"What now", I shrugged. He scratch his head annoyed and grunted slyly. "Any blankets"?

I sighed. I finally snap my fingers. "Yes", I answered. I head upstairs to a closet.

We grabbed totally four for all of them. Jungkook and I end up cleaning and putting away the karaoke machine. I turned off the kitchen lights. "Okay! Time for bed", I say going upstairs. "You coming"?

He sets the living room light off. "Yep". He started to catch up with me.

"I love your voice", I said to him before he left inside his room.

He smiles scratching the back of his head. "Thank you. You were really good to. I can tell you were nervous. I hear you singing sometimes".

I hesitated to say anything ruien the moment I was feeling. He looked back inside his room to show he was tired but he was also being polite.

"Oh", All I said. I nodded at him. "Goodnight". He smiles at me closing the door. I scratched my head. Biting my lip. Closing my door next. Wait! Did I say thank you?

~●Next Morning●~

Taking a decent show last night, I felt comfortable but woke up to early. I checked the time and saw it was 10am. I wanted to sleep more but my dreams became werid even I couldn't remember what happened. I decide to use the restroom. After brushing my teeth, I step out to see Jungkook going downstairs. When I took a show I saw my mom going in her room last night. I wasn't sure about the others.

Walking into the living room, no one was there. That answered my question. I herd cabinets closed. I walked into the kitchen to find him alone. He spotted me. Looking relived.

"Morning", Hes shy voice says. "Do you have cereal"?

Cereal would usually wouldn't be in any cabinets. Looking through again for his benefit. There wasn't.

"No...Do you want me to make you breakfast"?

He looked at me surprise. "You can cook"?I nodded smiling. "Yes! Let me cook for you". I started getting supplies out. He watches me but he interrupts me cracking an egg.

"Can I help", He asked. I shrugged. "I wasn't hoping you would ask". (😅)

We cooked togther silently. I was cooking the the mixes in the pan while he chopped up the veggies. When his part was done. He stares at my cooking admiring. I did a flip or two and almost failed. This was my first time making him laugh. He...was dreamy. I thought I was imagining it.

"Yes"! I slipped an omelet on his plate. He looked so excited his eyes widen. "Wow! Amazing"! He smiles wider. I even started giggling how excited he looked proud at me. "All yours", I told him.

He gives me a bow sitting down. And his hands pressed together. I smiled putting the pan away. He prays. That was the greatest sigh! I hurriedly rush across the table to eat my breakfast. My creation was appreciated! We started digging after a small prayer.

"What can you cook", I asked him. He started thinking. "Mmm". He swallows. "I cook whatever I put my mind to it. Usually only scramble eggs. What you made is really good and.... impressive".

I scrunch my face at him and told him stories about my cooking. He responded with his own stories I was actually satisfied hearing about it. He started teasing me about how clumsy I was dropping the omelet on the pan. I started blushing. This was a first moment I ever felt with a boy.

"I hear them coming", I said drying the last dish he gave me. I started putting other omelets for the adults in the house. One by one came down and sat in the chair smelling breakfast.

"Awe! Honey. You beat me to it! You made my favorite"! She kissed my forehead. I smiled. "No problem. Going upstairs. Enjoy you guys".

I started to realize Jungkook was going upstairs too. Alone in the living room, I waited until he was done talking to his parents. He steps in seeing me wait for him. His reaction was no different from mine. What can I say now? Instead he said something instead of me.

"You have any instruments"?

We were in my room! I have a boy in my room! I have a cute ass guy in my BEDROOM! He was looking around. Seeing [Your room]. My heart started speeding.

"Interesting", He says. He finally pointed. "You did say you play guitar". He smiles at me. I just stood there beside the open door. What would I say if our parents by the door? Would we be in trouble?

"Y... yes! I've only known a few tunes. You can touch it! If...you want". I walked more closer to him. He still looked at me for permission, I tada it and sat down on my bed. He sat in a chair , tuning with it. But once he played. I saw guitar notes started dancing circle around the room. I started clapping after he finshed. "I'm still learning", He says chuckling.

"Wow. You have a way with learning", I said with lightly. He glance at me. He looked at me funny. I coughed chaging back to my regular voice. "You know! Because you seem okay". He keeps that look on his face that was killing me. "Okay? Than show me your moves".

Oof. I blinked , taking the guitar in my arms.

I sat in front of him. Playing the guitar in while I made him sing during the melody. He stopped and rolled his tounge during his mistake. I rolled my eyes. "Keep going", I encouraged him. "That was beautiful".

He looks up at me. I didn't notice how our face was almost close to eachother once I decided to lean down and patted his shoulder. He was staring at me like he was staring at the omelet I made this morning. I blushed, my hands feeling him come closer to my face....he was going to kiss me!

The whole story wasn't big enough to enter.💔 Its up to you guys wanting to turn this into kinemaster or second part on Tumblr!💜

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!