#I skimmed that chapter for a quote to pull to paste and was like 'oh shit this slaps'

[terrainofheartfelt]

9, 17, 18, 29?

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year? hmmmmmmmmmmm I don't know!! I think if I like a pairing enough to the point that I do in fact write about them then they are a favorite. perhaps....dan/nate? that is just a ship I keep coming back to because it is so comforting in such a singular way, there's an energy to them that none of the other couple I write carry. wait I changed my mind: dairthaniel. A ship I didn't plan to write anymore but I enjoyed so much that I did it anyway. I'm not sure how, but I think it's Cherry's fault :)

17. Your favorite character to write this year? I really liked writing Jenny's point of view in fics this past year. her voice and the way she looks at things, and how she is in the world of the show-verse while also being a spectator to it, and getting to write how she Got Out and healed...I just love her and want to give her wonderful things <3 (and writing her in the P&P AU with the The LBD Lydia as a blueprint, SO much fun.)

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? strangely enough, I'm gonna say Blair, even though the majority of what I share is her point of view. my girl just has such a twisted fucked up mind that....the conundrum of writing Blair is that I kind of know her better than she knows herself, so the question becomes what does she not know/what does she refuse to know and how do I show that with my writing? and I have no idea if I do it well, sometimes I read friends' fics and they have phds in blair waldorf and I'm like "oh fuck they showed that SO much better than I could" I think it's something that I can't think too hard about for me to be able to do it well, which of course is so annoying. oh sweet blair, dear child. being normal is not an option for her.

19. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? HARD QUESTION. and like I have written so so much that it's hard to keep track of it all? I think this year more s o than the last it's like....once the fic is posted it completely leaves my brain. But I am gonna go with a scene from such a lot of world to see, in the Rome chapter, what I call the dair breakup post-mortem, it's the cathartic convo that has been building up for hundreds of thousands of words in this fic series, and I knew I wanted to do that way for a long time and I worked on each line in this scene for a long time, and then I sat on it and wrote a lot of the series around that scene, and I still am just really proud of it. And I could probably argue that that scene in chapter 2 is the entire reason I am even writing fic at all. I started writing to make this big post s5 fixit I had constructed in my head, and anything that's come out of me since is a direct or indirect result of that AU and people's magnificent responses to it. so. yeah.... anyways here's a tidbit of it for context:

“I told her that I wanted to write a sequel to Inside, but real this time.” He stares down at their hands, as if too ashamed to look at her, “Real names, real everything. It wasn’t satirical, it was a hit piece, and Georgina had enough dirt on people to make it happen.”

Blair feels a coldness sitting underneath her ribs. “Did you write it?”

Dan glances up at her, then looks back down just as quickly. “A lot of it, yeah.”

“But you didn’t finish it?”

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

He takes a deep breath. “Jenny - she called me while I was here. I’d been avoiding everything, everyone, and she decided that she was sick of it and harassed me until I answered the phone.”

“Sounds like her.”

Dan’s jaw twitches. “She asked me about the book I was writing but...I was too embarrassed to tell her. That was kind of my sign.”

“You think she would judge you for it?”

He shakes his head. “I guess not, but just,” he sighs, “hearing her talk, it made me think of something else. Something she said to you, actually.”

Blair tilts her head in question.

“When she came back to interview at Parsons...she said something to you - and him - like, ‘you two used to be in love, and now you’re only hurting each other.’”

It’s only a matter of time before your mutual destruction. Blair remembers.

“And it reminded me that - however it ended - I really loved you,” he says, softly, but confidently, with conviction, “and I needed to honor that. For me, if not for us.”

[gyusfavlibra]

𝔹𝔼𝕃𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔻 𝕋𝕌𝕋𝕆ℝ | 𝕁𝕆𝕊ℍ𝕌𝔸 ℍ𝕆ℕ𝔾

Pairings: Joshua x gender neutral reader! Friends to lover! College au!

Warnings: Minor language, fluff.

Word Count: +2K

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

Quietness took over the building as each student inside did a variety of things that were intended for school.

Studying, reading, writing.

You sat at your own two seated table. A white lamp brightened the secluded area that you studied in. The chair next to you was empty. Saved for someone specific. Designated for your friend, Joshua Hong, to come in and help you study for your similar upcoming exams.

You were a Junior in college. Finishing up the last class credits you needed to graduate. Which included passing said exams. You were 100% nervous, absolutely terrified. You couldn't lie about that or else you'd grow a large nose..

Especially since you had been staying up almost every night til at least 2 am everyday for the past week studying for all your important tests.

You wanted to make your parents proud. Not even just them. You wanted to make yourself proud. Looking forward to getting high paying yet enjoyable jobs that provided her with the money needed to fend for herself and her future after school.

You told your parents exactly this, which is why they hired Joshua to be your tutor. Which is how they become acquainted in the first place.

You weren't BAD persay, but you weren't the smartest either. Joshua, however, was. Which was one of the very many reasons you began to like him. That and the fact that you found him to be very funny and super handsome.

The crush didn't start not too long after your first few sessions. He was always so understanding, gentle, patient. Unlike a huge percentage of the the attendees on the campus.

But along with the hot smirk and the turning personality thoughts came his tardiness. Consecutive would be a dramatic word to describe it not being the first time. Only the third time in the last two weeks to be exact. But you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You knew it was because of his friends. And you couldn't blame him. If you weren't so worried about you own piled up assignments, you'd probably be with your friends a lot as well. Maybe even at this moment. You could easily ditch this session and do so now.

However, getting heated over that topic would only make you very hypocritical.

Another ten minutes pass of you sitting alone. At this rate, you'd only be able to get work done for a single class. It works. Better than nothing. You mentally thump your head for not just choosing to start on your own. Hoping in general to get done with at least three.

You deeply sighed. Pulling you hard covered text book towards your chest. The sound of the material sliding against the wood making a swoosh sound.

Skipping to the chapter you need to study on, you began reading away. Skimming through the bold text. Using a bright orange highlighter, you colored any quotes or sentences that answered questions on your study guide.

That same routine you followed for the rest of the hour you had left in the library before you felt the sudden want to just finish the work at home.

You stamped the lid onto the neon utensil and packed it back into the pocket you pulled it from.

You pull the history book cover, shut. Sending a miniature wave of air to dash on the papers beside it.

Just as you were about to put your papers away, the longed presence you spent the last hour waiting for, had finally showed up. Out of breath, textbook in hand, and his backpack over his shoulder.

You stared at him with risen eyebrows. "You okay?"

"Y...just give- give me a second."

His limp upper body bent over after slapping the book onto the desk. The smack catching the attention of a staff member. You smiled to apologize. His heavy breathing filling the enclosed area. He slapped his hand on his stomach after letting out a whistle threw his lips.

"Sorry- I'm late. I- had...OH MY GOD."

"You should sit down."

He obliged to your suggestion and sat in the wooden chair behind himself. You slid your water bottle to him where he gave you a thankful look and downed half the water before returning back to normal.

"I had detention. Mr. Kim."

"Ah, I see," you nodded with pursed lips. "Well, uh- I got some work done so, I'm not gonna waste any of your time. I'll just head hom-"

"Home? Why?" he questioned while standing. Assumingly faster than he zoomed to the building.

"Because I'm sure you're busy. And it's already 4. Passed session time."

"So?"

His questioning responses were shaking you to the core. Especially with the middle toned masculine voice he had. Same voice you always looked forward to hearing.

"So...I'm sure you don't wanna sit in here any longer."

"Y/n, if you're here, then I wanna be here."

Those words. Those damn words. You had lost count of how many times your stomach absolutely churned when he spoke like that. Or even said your name right before he said something in such a way. But if you had a dollar for every time you did get butterflies, you'd be in Hawaii, living life. "I don't wanna do this alone."

Joshua sat back down. Pulling open his textbook. When he noticed your figure not joining him yet, he tapped the seat with his yellow pencil before pulling out more papers.

You quietly hide the giggles and smile you were so desperately trying to not have, but this boy, well he made it hard. Very hard. So hard your cheeks actually began to hurt.

"Okay, what class have you already done work for?"

"Uh-" you finally join him. "I did history."

"Cool. Then the hard part is out of the way. So, let's do Math and then English. Let's say 45 minutes each. Deal?"

The boy with shiny mid length brown hair peered his eyes to the other human sitting beside him. Eyebrows risen as he waited for a response. You were so caught in his beautiful figure that it took the clearing of his own throat to gain your attention back to it's rightful place. Not fast enough.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. 30 minutes each. Sounds amazing."

"45 minutes."

"45. Got it."

The boy laughed at your quirkiness, making sure you didn't see that he had found himself adoring it more than he should. Not wanting to expose his ownself.

"Cool."

You two began working together like you had many times before. Thanking the heavens you had almost all the same classes so you could work together on most of them.

The first set of chosen minutes had passed like lightning speed. But, you did work great together so you got more done than expected.

As for the next set of the time, you begun to lose control as to what you should have really been working on. The work. But instead, you're busy watching a video of Joshua at a young age, singing into a plastic karaoke mic. Red and yellow colors matching the rainbow jumpsuit he wore in the film.

The boy felt embarrassed, but everytime he tried to pull it away, you couldn't help but grab his wrist, stopping him from moving the phone. Your grip sending chills down his spine. You enjoyed the little clips of him vocalizing so beautifully.

He's definitely gotten better. It was really improved. You've seen him practice between classes. Along with his whispered humming he does when you work silently.

"God, imagine having such an angelic voice at a young age," you sighed. Sitting upwards to stop yourself from slouching. The chairs weren't so comfortable. "Especially if you've been around instruments all your life."

"Well, thanks to musicals and many TV series. I have that special opportunity."

"Well, you're amazing!"

"Noo, you're just saying that-" he began to fluster. Staring at pencil in hand.

"I'm not. I've met a lot of musical students, but you by far, are my favorite," you smile shyly. Tapping his broad shoulder.

"It's cause most a looked down upon by parents for the music major."

"It seems difficult. But you do so well, I bet when a stranger first hears you, they're shocked when they hear you sing so well."

His cheeks began to turn a bright red. Trying so hard to not beam the smile he so deeply kept down. Like you also had been doing.

"Honestly, now, it makes sense how I don't do so well in school. I'm not as talented. Just good at writing."

Joshua flipped his eyes to now look at your view. Shaking his head. "No, don't compare those. Y/n, writing is also a talent. Poetry, even writing lyrics. And besides, you're already too smart."

"I'm not. If I was, I wouldn't need you to help me with all of this."

"That's your parents and your brain talking. You never needed me."

You stare blankly at the papers on the wooden table. Confused as to what he really was getting to.

"I'm surprised you haven't canceled yet."

"Me?"

"Y/n, you know how may times you've gotten to an answer on your own. Without my help," he spoke softly. "You're really smart. And you know it. I know you do."

"So, why say yes to the tutoring then?" you giggled. Trying to make it seem like his compliments were just reflections of you complimenting his singing.

Joshua's heart began to skip. Losing it's calories for it's very own exercises.

He didn't know how to come out with it in a better approach than this. And if he didn't answer now, who knew when he'd have another opportunity to say what was on his chest. Now or never.

And now is always better.

"Okay, to tell you the truth..."

He began to become hesitant. Your chest started racing as well. But you wanted to hear it. Whether it was a pitiful coming comment or a very beneficial one, you asked, and you wanted to know.

"You can tell me."

One half of his mouth curved into a smirk. Looking down to the floor before looking back up. "I knew the first few times I worked with you, that I didn't need to tutor you. But it felt good to talk to you, so I just kept showing up."

You nodded. Giving him permission to continue.

"After awhile, I got to know you more. How smart you were. How funny and kind your were, and I just couldn't stop seeing you. So, to tell the truth, Y/n. I honestly really like you. And I know it's probably suddenn but I needed to say something."

The words you had longed for, for so long had finally fallen out his mouth and you couldn't at all hide the big ass smile you plastered. Almost built like a bright and large rainbow.

"I just hope you like me. And I didn't totally just embarrass myself."

You giggled. Placing a hand on his cheek, you pulled his face so you could place a kiss on his other cheek.

"I like you too. Why do you always think I stay even after you're late? To stay with you."

"I should've picked up on that," he chuckled. You nodded in agreement before Joshua exchanged a kiss back to your temple as he hugged you.

"Let's finish work so I can't take you out to dinner."

"Really? You don't have to."

"I want to."

••••••••••••••••••

[sirendeepity]

For the fanfic writer ask game:

♥️👻📗

Nikiiiii, my love, it's so good to see you here! <333

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

So, this one's tough. Not because I have the hands of Midas, but because I simply... Have no idea? I did skim through metanoia, though, because if that's where the good stuff is, and I found a few because I'm physically unable to choose just one I really liked, two of which are quote quotes

“I gave him the power he thinks he has now, and by not agreeing on meeting with him we’re just proving his point: that he has something, that he’s worth something. I’d rather die than give him the satisfaction.”

That night was not for deep, belly laughs. That night was for healing what others had broken. To build anew.

while the third is more of a context quote

What caught her attention the most, tho, had been the fact that Rhysand had been ready to put so much of himself, of what he’d been through, at stake. For her. Nesta shifted in her seat, not stomaching the starlight violet any longer. She felt Night caressing her mental shields, purring, asking to get in. She let it. You’re worth the risks. She turned, the bones in her neck cracking with the fast motion, and stared speechless at Rhysand. She’d let him in her mind, yet the voice wasn’t there. He’d said those words out loud, had made sure the stars heard them too.

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

I answered this one here, bUT I'll give you another one, which is also a spoiler for a possible future multi-chapter fanfic I've been thinking about for a while and recently I'm entertaining the idea of actually try to write it? We'll see. Anyway I have this idea that the Valkyries (well, Nesta, at least, since she's the one who's part of the Inner Circle) will "give up" their citizenship? And they're not members of the Night Court anymore? Or they're just a private citizen like any other? I still have to think this trough, but they're going to do all that because they are going to tour around Prythian to recruit and train more females and officially revive The Valkyries, and make them an army for the people: basically, there will be a base in every Court and legions/battalions for each, but overall they don't belong to a single Court but rather all of them, but really, if you think about it, none at all. They're like an independent army, the "neutral party" which will not stay so neutral if things get dirty. They'll stand for equality and freedom, they'll protect the innocents, and by not "legally" belonging to any Court they won't have a High Lord or High Lady that can order them around and such, so they'll be like an Eight Court of sorts without really being a Court at all. Does this make sense?

📗 Do you want to write something outside of fanfiction? If so, what about?

Oh bestie I'm so happy you asked this because y e s. Yes. Yes, I do. And I am completely cool about it. Not acting weird at all.

I'm almost done with the first draft of this personal project of mine that I've been working on and off for the past ..year..s? But I keep procrastinating so I've been "-10 chapters!!" for the past week, but still. To keep things sweet and short, I'll make you a list, because we love lists on this blog:

Crown of Thorns (4): (high?) fantasy; reluctant found family where each and every one of them is "in it" for their own personal gaining, but what started as a shallow "they took my crown from me so now I'll take it back because I can? and because I'm petty and hold grudges" will turn into "I have to stop the Lord of Darkness from coming back from the dead and destroy the world as we know it, and maybe start a revolution while I'm at it". It's messy, and sometimes I think I won't be able to pull this off the way I intended to (good intentions, bad delivery, you know?) so don't ask me to tell you more than this because I really don't know how without spoiling the entire thing;

Cursed Goddes/Blessed God (2): CoT spin-off that is actually a prequel and kind of explains/shows the events that led society to become the way it is in CoT and yes, I really did dig my own grave with this whole series, but now I'm in too deep to stop so down we go;

Kill Your Darlings (1): dark academia-ish, paranormal vibes and a hint of mystery, too? Think House of Anubis, but everyone is gay and mentally ill. That's it, that's the plot.

The Haven Island series (3): contemporary romance, interconnected standalones following a group of friends navigating life in their 20s, where every story is meant to represent a different aspect of girlhood/womanhood (aka toxic/abusive relationships, motherhood, sexism and mysoginy, etc.)

I'd also like to write something in the dystopian sub-genre, because who doesn't love that feeling of impending and unavoidable doom? But I have absolutely nothing in my hands if not some sort of relationship dynamics that for the sake of logic and coherency I had to cut out from the CoT plot, so, yeah, we're really basing it all on vibes at this point

Ask me a question!

[the-modernmary]

when you gonna take me out? || derek morgan x GN!reader

Summary: You and Derek have been flirting pretty heavily for the past few weeks. So when his first time asking you out doesn't go as well as planned, he's determined to get you to say yes.

Warnings: mentions of getting shot, allusions to smut

A/N: Chapter title taken from Aly & AJ's "Take Me Out". This was inspired by a scene from the show community, and also because derek morgan deserves more love

~~~~~~~

“No, no, you see, asking somebody out is an art,” Derek explained to a very frustrated Spencer Reid. “And I think with a little practice, pretty boy, you could become a bit of a player.”

Prentiss, who had been listening to Derek trying to convince Spencer to let him be his wingman for the better part of an hour, scoffed from her desk. “Using a cheesy pickup line is an art now?”

“There is nothing wrong with a line!” Derek argued, leaning back in his desk chair. “It’s a knock at the door. And once they let you in, that’s when you strike.”

Spencer scrunched up his nose at Derek’s phrasing. “I think I’m going to leave the whole player thing to you.”

“Come on, Reid, it’s easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then why don’t you show us?” Prentiss shot.

Right at that moment, Garcia and JJ walked back into the bullpen, coffees in hand. “Show us what?” JJ questioned.

“Derek is trying to teach Reid how to flirt,” Prentiss explained. “But I think he’s just all talk. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Morgan with a significant other.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Hey, I don’t pry into your personal life?”

Garcia put a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Nobody can resist my chocolate thunder. I mean, look at him. He literally looks like he was sculpted by Michaelangelo.”

“I’m with Emily,” JJ chimed in. “I kind of want to see the Derek Morgan in action.”

Derek’s eyes scanned the bullpen until he landed on you, standing in the kitchen area and making yourself a cup of coffee. You were also a profiler, just on a different team that primarily focused on cold cases. It was no secret that you and Derek Morgan had been flirting pretty heavily the past few weeks — longing glances, pet names, and kisses on cheeks were just the start — and you both had a sneaking suspicion that there was an office pool betting on whether or not the two of you had already hooked up.

“Fine,” Derek said, standing up. “Watch and learn, Pretty Ricky.”

Derek sauntered over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter while reaching for a wooden stirrer. “Let me help you with that,” he offered.

You turned to look at him, a smile on your face. “Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased, but you handed your cup of coffee to him anyways. “I didn’t realize you knew how I take my coffee?”

“You learn a lot about somebody when you can’t take your eyes off them,” he pointed out. “Especially with the way you look right now. I mean, wow. Got a hot date tonight? Because he is one very lucky man.”

You arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Nope, no date.”

“Well, you do now, baby,” Derek grinned. “I’ll pick you up at 8:30.”

You stared at Derek, part amused and part incredulous. “Did you really think that would work?” you asked through a breathy chuckle.

Derek’s confident grin fell slightly as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?” he asked, unable to form any other words.

“Derek Morgan, I expected so much more from you,” you mused, snatching your coffee cup from his hand. “I know you can sweet talk better than that.”

It was Derek’s turn to raise his eyebrows, and he tried his best to ignore the barely-suppressed giggles from his teammates. “So is that a no?” he clarified, not used to the feeling of rejection. Although, it didn’t feel quite like a rejection, especially when you were smiling at him with just a hint of your tongue peaking out from between your teeth.

“It’s a… ‘better luck next time’,” you explained, taking a sip of your coffee.

Derek’s normal, confident grin returned to his face. “You’re saying I can ask you out again?” he clarified, because he did not want to be the guy who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

You walked backwards to your desk, never taking your eyes off Derek. “Sure. It could be fun. But you’ll have to bring your A-game if you want me to say yes,” you told him, and oh, Derek Morgan loved a good challenge.

Derek walked back to his desk, feeling the stares of his teammates the whole way back.

“Like a knock on the door...” Prentiss quoted back to Derek. “So did you just get the door slammed in your face, or was nobody home?”

Derek scoffed and sat down in his chair, already coming up with all the new ways he could ask you out. He had been wanting to for a while, but the timing was always off. But now…

“Oh no, I’m in,” Derek promised, and his eyes were immediately drawn to you. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “But I’m playing the long game.”

~~~~~~~

Derek and the rest of his team got pulled into a case shortly after, so you didn’t hear from him for about a week except for the occasional “how is it going?” text. They got back to the BAU in the middle of the day, but instead of heading straight home like the rest of his team, Derek made a beeline to your desk.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, dropping a quick kiss to your temple. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

A soft blush rose to your cheeks as you shut the file you were looking at, spinning your chair so that you could face him. “I missed you tons, as always. But you knew that.”

Derek’s eyes trailed up and down your body, and there was a softness to his gaze that you rarely ever saw from him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Sore eyes?” you questioned. “I don’t know about that. Wasn’t there a meteor shower where you guys were at?”

“Yeah, but no meteor shower can compare to how beautifully your eyes sparkle.”

You tried really, really hard to hold in your laughter. You pressed your lips into a thin line and you bit the insides of your cheeks, but you were only so strong, and even Derek looked like he realized how cheesy and awful that line was.

You broke down into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “I just — Did you google a top ten best pickup lines list on the plane ride back?”

Derek winced, but nodded in agreement. “That’s fair. Not my best work.”

“No, it was not, Romeo,” you said, patting his cheek. “But we’ll chalk it up to post-case sleep deprivation.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Derek grinned. “When the time comes, you won’t be able to say no.”

You laughed, throwing your head back as you did. “And I am eagerly awaiting that day.”

~~~~~~~

Two days later, Derek all but ambushed you at the elevator. As soon as you stepped out onto the 6th floor, Derek slung his arm around your shoulders, and used his free hand to carry your bag for you.

“Oh, this is exciting,” you mused. You reached your hand up to interlace your fingers with the hand that was draped over your shoulder. “What do you have for me today, baby?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Derek explained. “And you’re a modern, progressive, independent person. I think I’ve been going about this all wrong.”

You nodded in encouragement. He was so close, you just knew it. All he had to do was ask you.

“You don’t want to be dragged down by a bunch of strings. So how about you come over tonight, I’ll put on some mood music, light some candles, and you and I can have one perfect night of pure bliss.”

Or maybe he wasn’t as close as you thought.

“Nope,” you said, moving his arm off of your shoulders. You liked Derek Morgan, but you were not going to be another one of his one night stands. “Not gonna happen.”

“Better or worse than before?” Derek asked, already knowing the answer, and he handed your bag back to you.

“Worse. Much worse.” You paused and turned so that you were facing him. “But I like how forward you were. Keep that up.”

Derek smirked and leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? So should I keep those candles just in case?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “With your current track record, baby boy, the only place you’ll be using those candles is in your dreams.”

“You’re already in my dreams, hot stuff,” he promised you. “Every. Single. Night.”

Oh god, that was a very welcome image you would think about forever. You knew that Derek liked you, and you had had your fair share of fantasies involving him in some pretty explicit situations, but him fantasizing about you? It was almost enough to convince you to drag him into the nearest empty room.

Almost. Because if he wanted a chance with you, he was going to have to actually ask you on a date.

Instead, you blew him a kiss and left him with: “And I bet I’m even better than you can imagine.”

Needless to say, the both of you spent the rest of the day incredibly distracted.

~~~~~~~

By that point, pretty everybody on the 6th floor knew what was going on, and they were all invested. More betting pools sprouted up, and even some of the more reserved agents were putting in their two cents, albeit under the guise of disapproval.

That’s why, when a bouquet of flowers appeared on your desk one morning, it was all anybody could talk about as they waited for you to get to work. Even Rossi and Hotch had found an excuse to get themselves out of their offices and into the main part of the bullpen.

“They’re going to say yes today,” Penelope guessed. “They have to. Everybody likes flowers, and this shows the sweet side of my chocolate thunder.”

Prentiss scoffed. “I hope they don’t. I have twenty bucks on at least two more rejections.”

Rossi, who was sitting on the edge of a desk, shook his head. “These are your friends. Don’t you guys feel bad about betting on their love lives?”

“Says the guy who has fifty dollars on ‘they get drunk and leave the bar together’,” Hotch said, not even looking up at the file he was skimming through. Hotch was one of the only ones who hadn’t put money into this whole thing, but he was still very well informed. “You all should really hide the whiteboard the bets are on a little bit better.”

Rossi was about to defend himself when you walked through the glass doors of the BAU. A hush fell over the room and they watched as your smile melted into realization and then nervousness.

You walked over to the bouquet and gingerly took the card, but you didn’t even get to read it when the first sneeze came. Then the next and the next, and pretty soon your eyes were watery, your nose running, and your throat was so scratchy that you sounded like you smoked four packs a day.

You tried to focus on your work, but the constant sneezing and needing to get up to blow your nose was seriously disrupting your productivity. You could barely focus because it felt like a head cold that just wouldn’t go away. Your pollen allergy was something you’d had your whole life, and when they hit, they hit bad.

The flowers were gorgeous and such a sweet gesture, but you didn’t even have the chance to really appreciate them while you could barely breathe through your nose. You were sure you were just a distraction

A hand on your shoulder made you jump, and you whipped around to see Hotch looking down at you with concern. You sighed. “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner,” you said, your voice nasally. “I usually keep allergy meds in my bag, but it’s not pollen season and I—”

“Go home, agent,” Hotch interrupted you gently. “Get some rest. You can come back tomorrow when you feel better.”

“No, m’fine I just need to—” You cut yourself off this time with another sneeze, and then all you could do was agree with Hotch. “Yeah, I’m gonna go home. Thank you.”

You took the bouquet and walked over to Penelope, handing the glass vase over to her. “Will you please tell Derek that these are beautiful and that I’m so sorry—” You sneezed three times in a row, and by then you were too exhausted to even try talking anymore, so you just groaned and waved goodbye to the rest of Derek’s friends before dragging yourself out of the bullpen.

The next thirty minutes went on as usual, until Derek walked into the bullpen. He had been gone all morning doing a profiling seminar for academy recruits, so he had missed your quick descent into your allergic reaction.

His face fell slightly when he saw your empty desk, and it fell even more when he saw the flowers he had bought sitting on the corner of Prentiss’s desk and his entire team talking amongst themselves.

Derek walked up to them, a frown etched on his face. “Did they not show up for work today?” he asked.

“I sent them home,” Hotch explained, and if Derek didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that he saw the hint of a smirk on the corner of Hotch’s mouth.

Spencer’s smirk, on the other hand, was not even close to being hidden. “Hey Morgan, did you know that pollen allergies affect up to 20 million adults? And sunflowers and flowers in the aster family are considered some of the worst flowers for people who suffer with pollen allergies, since the pollen is so easily dispersed by the wind.”

Realization set in Derek and he cursed under his breath. You had mentioned once in passing that you liked the look of sunflowers, so he had assumed that those were the best flowers to get you. Clearly, he was wrong.

Noticing his dejected look, Garcia quickly interjected. “But they said that they’re beautiful and they looked like they really loved them,” she comforted. “And they wanted me to tell you that they’re sorry.”

Derek shook his head. How did he not know that you were allergic? That seemed like a pretty big thing. “No, they have nothing to be sorry for. I’m going to go wipe down their desk, make sure that it’s clean for them tomorrow.”

The team watched as Derek went over to your desk, taking his time to make sure that there was no flower residue left. They all quickly went back to discussing the bet, changing up their predictions now that they had more evidence to go off of.

Surprisingly, instead of going back to his office, Hotch spoke up. “Morgan isn’t used to being told no. He’s going to break down and beg.”

The team looked at Hotch incredulously. “I’ve never seen Morgan beg for anything,” JJ pointed out, and Hotch just shrugged.

“Well, are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Prentiss pressed.

Hotch sighed and shut the file he was holding. “I try not to make a habit out of betting on my subordinates' love lives.”

Rossi rolled his eyes. “He knows he’s wrong, he just wants to be a contrarian,” he told the team, baiting Hotch.

Hotch narrowed his eyes slightly. If anybody else had said that, he would have been able to walk away, but this was Rossi. So Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty from his wallet.

“None of this goes on any sort of record.”

~~~~~~~

“Derek Morgan, you got shot?”

You stood up from your desk as soon as you saw Derek and his team walk through the glass doors. It was way after hours, but the news of a shoot out at their last crime scene got back to you, and there was no way you were going to be able to go home knowing that Derek got hurt.

The rest of the team all shared a glance and quickly dispersed, giving you and Derek as much privacy as possible.

Derek made his way over to you, trying to look like he was in less pain than he actually was. “Don’t worry, hot stuff,” he told you, slumping down into his seat. “It just hit my vest.”

You stormed over to where he was sitting, worry evident on your face. “Yeah, I’ve been shot in the vest before!” you reminded him. “It still hurts like hell! What were you thinking?”

Derek forced a smile and held your hand in one of his own. “Baby, I’m okay. Really. I could even show you, if you wanted proof. Then you can stare at my abs without feeling guilty.” He took his free hand and started to lift up his shirt, and you quickly yanked your hand away from his.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, already in the process of storming away from him. “I cannot believe that you are seriously hitting on my right now. You just got shot and you’re asking me out? Agh!”

You started to walk away but Derek caught your hand just in time, laughing as he did. “Okay, don’t go, I’m sorry. I just…” he trailed off, suddenly getting serious. “I just really needed to see your smile.”

You mustered up the best smile you could. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Derek let out a long, audible exhale. “So am I,” he admitted. “I’ve never been more glad to be here doing paperwork.”

You rubbed your hands on the tops of your thighs. “I have some leftover takeout that I had for lunch. How about I heat that up and we can share it while I help you with your work?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll stay. I have nothing else to do.”

Derek grinned and kissed the top of your hand. “You’re too good to me.”

You smirked. “I know.”

Pretty soon, the two of you were hunched over his desk, sharing bites of dinner and chatting easily as you trudged through paperwork.

You quickly learned that he liked to read Kurt Vonnegut and that his eagle tattoo was because of a nickname he had gotten in college. You told him about your fear of the ocean and the time you accidentally set off your high school’s fire sprinkler system during chemistry.

It was nice to be able to just talk to him. It felt like you and him had been friends for years and years, not just the past two months. This Derek Morgan was different from any other version of him, and you loved it. If you didn’t already have the biggest crush on him, this just solidified it. You really, really liked him, and you really, really wanted him to just ask you on a date already.

As the night went on, the two of you had moved closer and closer, until your shoulders bumped and your legs were pressed up against each other. If you both turned your faces to look at each other, your noses would brush. And from there, it would only be a few centimeters until your lips would be on each other…

“Thank you for helping me with this,” he said suddenly, breaking you out of your fantasy. He turned towards you, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to stay, but… it meant a lot that you did.”

You smiled and tried to control your erratic heartbeat. “It was no problem. I’m happy to do it, anytime. Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” he admitted. “But do you know what would make me feel even better?”

You finally turned to look at him, and his face was so much closer than you expected. “What is that?” you whispered, unable to force yourself to speak any louder.

Derek’s lips quirked up in a smile and he moved impossibly closer to you. His lips were brushing against yours, and all you had to do was lean in just a little bit. Then he met your eyes, and they really did sparkle, and for the first time in his adult life, Derek lost all of his nerve.

“You could kiss it better,” he suggested. “Because you are much hotter than any of the EMTs at the scene.” Derek grimaced internally, knowing that he came off sounding like an asshole. All he had to do was ask you on a date. It should have been easy. So why couldn’t he?

You closed your eyes and sighed exasperatedly, pulling away. “Wow, fumbled at the five yard line,” you teased, trying to hide your disappointment. You had thought that Derek and you were really having a moment, but maybe he really just didn’t want strings attached.

Derek frowned slightly, but tried to laugh it off. It was the first time that he thought he actually had a chance with you, and he blew it. “Yeah, I guess I did, huh?”

You fought a smile as you stood up out of your chair. “Mhm. But there’s always tomorrow. And since you’ve had such a rough past few days…”

You spun Derek’s chair around so that he was facing you, and you placed your hands on the arms of his chair, leaning over him. The two of you kept eye contact for what felt like ten years, and his cologne was making you dizzy. Slowly, you pressed a lingering kiss right on the corner of his lips. Derek’s breath got caught in his throat as you pulled yourself away, albeit on shaky legs.

“And that’s all the lovin’ you’re getting from me tonight,” you teased.

Derek leaned back in his chair, his hand over his heart in what looked to be a dramatic display of affection. In truth, he was trying to calm his rapid heartbeat however he could. “Oh, light of my life,” he cooed. “That’s more than enough. It’s the only win I’ve gotten all week.”

~~~~~~~

It had been a few days since your night in the office with Derek, and he hadn’t tried anything, which worried you. He wasn’t avoiding you, and the two of you still exchanged pleasantries throughout the day, but he wasn’t flirting with you anymore.

Part of you wondered if you were too harsh with him that night, if you should have just kissed him and gone home with him. But within the past few weeks, your infatuation with Derek Morgan had turned into a full blown crush, as juvenile as it sounded, and you did not want to be another notch in his bedpost. So you were willing to wait it out, to see if you would actually say the words: “Do you want to go out with me?”.

As if you had summoned him, Derek Morgan wheeled his chair over to your desk and put down a coffee cup from your favorite little cafe in front of you.

“Iced vanilla latte with oat milk?”

“You know both of my coffee orders?” you grinned. “I’m impressed.”

“Consider it a bribe,” Derek said, and you raised your eyebrow as a response.

“A bribe?”

“Please go out with me,” Derek asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Pretty please. This was fun for a while, but now you are the only thing I think about. I can’t do my job, and I can barely sleep. I feel like I’m going crazy. You are so hot and so smart and so funny. Please let me take you on a date.”

The smile that grew on your face was so big that your cheeks started to hurt. “I’d love that.”

Derek seemed shocked that his attempt actually worked, and he blinked a few times just to make sure he heard you correctly. “Seriously? It’s a yes?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, taking a sip of the coffee Derek got you. “You finally asked me. Of course I said yes.”

“All I’ve been doing the past few weeks has been asking you,” he pointed out.

You hummed to yourself as you scrunched up your nose. “No. You told me that we were going on a date, asked me to have sex with you twice, and the rest of the times, you just used pick up lines. This is the first time you ever actually asked.”

Derek stared at your wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say. Finally, he landed on: “That’s all it took?”

“Yup,” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “Although, I do want to hear more about my eyes and the meteor shower.”

Derek let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he did. “I will be sure to tell you all about it. And more. I’ll pick you up at 8?”

You were practically beaming as you watched Derek stand back up. “That sounds perfect. Oh, and Derek? I hope you still have those candles out and ready to use.”

“Baby, I never put them away.” Derek winked at you before walking back to his desk. Prentiss was mumbling something about owing Hotch money, but Derek was so high up on cloud 9 that he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“See Reid,” Derek said as he took his seat at his desk. “That’s what we call ‘playing the long game’.”

“Finally,” Spencer grumbled, his nose buried in some book Derek didn’t recognize. “Took you long enough to realize.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You knew?”

Spencer scoffed, flipping the page of the book he was reading. “I knew from the first time they rejected you.”

Derek leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Man, why didn’t you tell me?”

Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyebrow quirked up. “You were ‘playing the long game’,” he quoted in a bad impression of Derek’s voice. “And since I’m running it, I get a cut of the entire betting pool, no matter who won, so it was in my best interest to keep it going as long as possible.”

Derek shook his head in disbelief. “I see. That pretty face of yours is hiding an evil genius.”

Spencer hummed in agreement and went back to his book. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “They want you to take them to that Mediterranean place two blocks down.”

“Okay, there is no way you know that,” Derek groaned, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to take my advice, but you should. Clearly, you’re helpless,” Spencer shrugged, and Derek laughed as he threw a crumpled piece of paper at him.

When Derek picked you up that night, he made sure that the flowers he brought you were hypoallergenic, and the Mediterranean place ended up being the right choice, not that he would ever admit that to Spencer.

And he did, for the record, make sure to set out those candles he promised, but at the end of the night, the two of you were too busy tearing off each other’s clothes to even bother lighting them.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 15 - Playing with Fire [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking.

Word Count: 3800

Summary: Good intentions can lead to bad consequences.

Your first night with Spencer was different than any other time with anyone else you had ever been with, and you were one hundred percent sure that he would have some scientific explanation for it, but for you, the reason behind that was very simple.

Even if you couldn’t even admit it to yourself yet.

But for the first time in a very long time, your nightmares left you alone. Your sleep wasn’t disturbed, not by anything unpleasant anyway and you were almost sure that the small movement beside you in bed followed by a soft kiss into your neck was a part of your dreams.

The fuzzy feeling spread through you as the haze of the sleep slowly withdrew from your body and you snuggled closer into the covers, not ready to leave the warmth yet but as soon as you turned and felt the empty spot next to you, you opened your eyes, frowning. You sat up in bed, rubbing at your eyes and grabbed the folded paper lying on the pillow beside yours.

Beatrice;

She is the sum of nature’s universe,

To her perfection all of beauty tends.

Dante.

You smiled and your eyes skimmed the next lines under the quote.

New case in Ohio, they called in the whole team.

You heaved a sigh, falling back to bed again, pulling the silk sheets over your head and letting out a groan. The sunshine that seemed to fill your veins had disappeared already, leaving its place to coldness and you kicked off the sheets to walk to the bathroom.

After taking a long hot shower, you got dressed and blow dried your hair, humming a song to yourself, the memory of last night flashing in your mind, sending a spark through your whole system. You turned off the blow drier, stealing a look at your phone to see whether Spencer had texted you yet but there was nothing, so you grabbed it and left the bathroom.

As soon as you stepped into the kitchen, a shriek left your lips, making your mother turn around.

“Y/N!”

“Jesus Christ mom!” you pressed a hand over your chest, “How many times do I have to tell you not to break into my apartment?”

“It’s not breaking in if I have a key.”

“That key is for emergencies,” you let out a breath, “There’s a copycat killer sending me flowers, remember? Now is not the time for surprises.”

She tilted her head, “Speaking of, I heard you let the security I fixed you go.”

“I’m not going to walk around with bodyguards,” you said as you approached the coffee maker, “There’s security at my office already, I can’t have it in my building too.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“As long as you don’t give me a heart attack, I think we will be fine,” you checked your wristwatch, “Damn it, I need to leave in five.”

“Well, I won’t take much of your time,” she said and put a file on the kitchen island, making you look up from the cup you were pouring your coffee into.

“What’s that?”

“I took the liberty of contacting Philip.”

“Your P.I?” you asked, “Why?”

“To look into your boyfriend of course.”

You blinked a couple of times and put the coffee cup down, “Mom, no.”

“Relax, I didn’t read it.”

“No,” you insisted, “No way. Throw that away.”

“Y/N, don’t you want to know if there’s anything in his past that might be—”

“I’m not going to dig into his past!” you interrupted her, your heartbeat getting faster, “Anything he wants to tell me, he can tell me himself, I’m not going to learn it from a freaking P.I file.”

She heaved a sigh, “You don’t know what he might be hiding from you.”

“He’s not hiding anything from me,” you said, “Also, I know his father isn’t a serial killer, which is more than I can say for myself. I’m the last person to judge someone for their past.”

“What your father has done has nothing to do with you,” she said, “I didn’t tell Philip to look into his parents sweetheart, just him.”

“Throw that away.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/N.”

“I’m not going to read it,” you told her as you put your coffee down and grabbed your purse from the counter, “I gotta go, but lock the door behind you when you leave okay?”

“Y/N, we need to talk about this!”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you turned around to look at her, “Mom, for the first time in my life I actually feel—“ you paused for a moment, “He makes me happier than you could imagine, okay? I’m not going to betray his trust, not like that. Ever.”

She shot you a look and you walked out of the apartment, your phone already buzzing in your hand.

“Erica?” you greeted your assistant as you answered the phone, “I’m on my way.”

                                                           ***

You definitely had not imagined the next two days going like this.

For starters, you had thought you would get to wake up next to Spencer. That didn’t happen.

You had thought you would have a peaceful morning. That didn’t happen.

You had assumed Spencer would call you, at least text you sometime in these two days, but that didn’t happen either. Between meetings and clients and running from venues to pastry shops to flower shops, you kept checking your phone but there was nothing. Even after you had texted him good morning, it was radio silent.

You tried to convince yourself that it was because of his job. You were busy during the day yes, but he was dealing with actual serial killers and their victims, so it was more than normal that he couldn’t find….five seconds to text you.

Maybe.

On second day though, you were getting way too restless.

“Nothing?” Mina asked as she came back from the bathroom and you put your phone down, taking a sip of your rosé and averting your glances to the other people in the restaurant.

“No,” you murmured, “It’s—it’s fine.”

“Is it though?”

You clicked your tongue and pushed at your salad with your fork, “No,” you admitted, “It’s not fine.”

“Thought so.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a sigh, “Maybe— I don’t know, maybe I misunderstood what this was?”

“Or maybe he’s an idiot.”

“He has an IQ of 187, Mina.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not an idiot,” she pointed at you with her fork, “Listen, you know what kind of a job he has. Every second counts when you’re hunting down killers.”

“A text takes like five seconds to type,” you reminded her and bit inside your cheek, “What if—“

“No,” Mina said, “Whatever you’re thinking right now, that’s not what’s happening here. You just decided to date a guy who has the worst work hours, that’s it,” she tilted her head, “Speaking of, did mom seriously get Philip to look into him?”

“Oh my God yes!” you looked up at her, finally able to focus on something else, “Can you believe that?”

“Yes I can. I one hundred percent saw that coming,” she sipped her drink, “I didn’t think she would tell you though, not after what happened the last time.”

You frowned, but then a look of realization dawned on your face, “Right,” you said, “She did the same when you and Kenzie started dating. I almost forgot.”

“Kenzie broke up with me when she found out,” she reminded you, shaking her head, “It was the worst week of my life. I had to beg her to at least listen to me.”

“I mean I get that she was angry, but breaking up?”

“I don’t know how I would react if she did the same thing to me,” Mina stated, “I can’t blame her, not really. It was way out of line.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t read it.”

“You shouldn’t read it,” Mina said, “Did you get rid of it?”

“I told mom to throw it away as I was leaving,” you said, “I didn’t see it on the counter when I came back, so I guess she did throw it away. Or took it with her, I don’t know.”

“You do realize none of this would be happening if you didn’t walk around announcing you’re in love—”

Your eyes widened, “Mina!”

“What? Just because you didn’t tell him doesn’t mean it’s not crystal clear to the rest of us.”

“I didn’t announce anything!”

“You might as well have,” she said, “Now that you got laid, there’s no excuse to that behavior.”

“At least I’m not calling him my love,” you pointed out and Mina scrunched up her nose.

“Don’t remind me,” she murmured, “I don’t know what mom is thinking. Also, apparently, there’s this auction for charity and all of us are supposed to be there. You, me, Kenzie…. Do you want to guess who the sponsor is?”

“Mom’s boyfriend.”

“Mom’s boyfriend,” she repeated, clinking her glass with yours, “Trust me, that’s gonna be a disaster.”

For the rest of the day, Spencer made no contact with you, and it was becoming more nerve-wrecking than you had thought it would be. Every hour your mind came up with some theory that was even more ridiculous than the other.

You had started with the theory of that night before not being as good for him as it was for you and somehow reached the theory of him lying dead in a ditch because a serial killer had gotten to him. Your fingers were practically itching for you to call him but you managed to control yourself, pouring yourself a glass of whiskey and trying to focus on the emails your assistant had sent you.

But the buzz of your phone was more than enough to make you sit up straight and snatch your phone off the coffee table. You touched the screen, your eyes skimming the text.

Sorry I couldn’t call, the case was chaotic and we just landed. Can I drop by? I missed you.

You stared at the screen, trying to repress the fury bubbling inside of you but managed to reply with just one word.

Sure.

Two days of complete silence, and then I missed you.

Lovely.

You let out a breath, forcing yourself to focus on the screen of your laptop instead of the anger filling you, because if you didn’t calm yourself down you were pretty damn sure that tonight would end in a huge argument.

And you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to let yourself play that messed up pushing and pulling game with him, because you knew where that would end.

It took more than an hour and a couple of glasses of whiskey, but when you heard the knock on your door, you pushed the cashmere throw off of you and walked to the door to open it.

Damn it, even the sight of him at your door was more than enough to make you want to rush into his arms, but you managed to hold your ground, leaning sideways to the door to take a look at him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in these two days and he was clearly exhausted, if not physically then mentally. The thought tugged at your heartstrings and you pressed your lips together.

“Welcome back,” you managed to say, not moving an inch to kiss or hug him and of course that didn’t escape his notice. Even when he was tired, he knew exactly how to read you.

You opened the door wider and walked back into the living room, listening to him close the door behind him and follow you.

“Tough case?”

“Yeah- is everything okay?”

His question made you turn around to look at him and you crossed your arms, frowning slightly.

“Yeah.”

“Y/N.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Hm?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I guess I’m surprised to hear from you, that’s all.”

A look of realization flashed over his handsome face, “I wanted to call you,” he said quickly, “I really did, but as soon as we landed in Ohio they took us into the crime scene, and the whole night I tried to crack the case but it turned out the killer had already committed—“

“A text would’ve been fine,” you pointed out, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, “You didn’t get five seconds to yourself, professor?”

“Will you believe me if I say no?”

“No,” you stated, “Not really. It’s fine, I just misunderstood what this was,” you motioned at him,”It’s—like I said, it’s fine. I just didn’t know it before so I got confused, that’s all.”

“What did you misunderstand?” he asked you and you shrugged your shoulders again like a petulant child, keeping silent. He watched you, his brows furrowed as he tried to understand what was happening before he pulled back slightly.

“You thought—“ he started, his voice soft, “You thought I’d leave you like that?”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

Don’t fucking say—

“What do I care if you left?”

Anthony, -your ex you had broken up with months and months ago- had once told you that during the arguments, especially if you were mad at the person in front of you, it was like you were possessed by the devil himself.

“I have no idea what the fuck you want,” he had yelled at you, “I don’t think you know either.”

Now to think of it, you were beginning to agree with him about you being possessed because you knew it was illogical, you knew you were being petty and nonsense, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“You don’t care.” Spencer repeated, his aura changing completely, his tone calm and collected.

You supposed that was normal. You had already trespassed into his area of expertise voluntarily, and yes you could push and pull someone until they broke, but Spencer could play these mind games and come out on top no matter how much you tried to beat him at that.

The thought of him taking a peek into all these defenses you had spent years building was so intimidating that for a moment you felt almost naked and blinked a couple of times, your nose in the air.

Walking away when you were at your own goddamn apartment was a challenge but your pettiness knew no limits.

“You know what, I’m gonna take a shower, it’s really late.”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah listen, like I said, it’s fine. You missed me, you saw me and we’re clearly both very happy right now, so do you mind closing the door behind you when you leave?” you said, your voice cold as ice and took a step to walk past him but he grabbed your arm before you could do that, his grip firm but not painful.

“You know I can see through that, right?” his voice was low as your heart started pacing in your chest, the fire shooting through you despite anger, “Try to run away from it, lie to me all you want, but I’m not one of those clueless idiots around you. We both know you do care.”

It was as if there was an invisible electric wire crackling between your bodies, getting stronger and stronger with each second passing. Your eyes narrowed as you stood still for a moment, like a snake ready to strike, your mind going overdrive with where to attack him first.

“Then it’s a good thing one of us does,” you managed to say, your voice like a hiss, “Because we both know that you don’t.”

Something behind his eyes shifted but before you could even question what it was he had already pulled you into a kiss, his fingers buried into your hair while he walked you back until your back collided with the wall. You pushed his jacket off of him, not caring where it ended up and your fingers nimbly tried to get rid of his tie, a whine escaping from your lips when you had to break the kiss so that he could pull the oversized shirt you were wearing over your head. He pulled back for a moment, his fiery gaze focused on you and that was when you understood why he had stopped.

He was making sure he would remember this.

You pushed yourself off the wall, flinging yourself into his arms once again. It was nearly impossible to fight the urge of being closer to him, so you gave in as his hand tugged at the roots of your hair while both of you blindly tried to find the nearest flat surface, knocking over a vase and the floor lamp in process before he finally pushed you back to the couch. A squeal escaped from your lips when you landed on the soft cushions, but it soon turned into a moan when his body covered yours, his teeth grazing your neck.

“Well,” he murmured, his low voice in your ear giving you shivers, “Let’s test that theory then.”

                                                        ***

Of course he woke up before you. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he hadn’t slept at all but he looked better rested than when he first had got there, so you figured he at least got a couple of hours. He had put his pants and white button up on, but his tie and jacket were still scattered along the room. He was sitting by the edge of couch, his files all over the coffee table as his eyes darted between them and he dragged his fingertips over the papers, but when he felt you watching him, he turned his head to look at you, a smile pulling at his lips, mirroring yours.

“Good morning,” he said and your smile widened before he leaned in to kiss you.

“Hi,” you murmured as you reached out to touch his curls, “Why does your hair look prettier than mine in the morning?”

He chuckled against your lips, “You’re seeing things,” he said, stealing another kiss from you before pulling back, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone.

“What time is it?” you rasped out and he checked his wristwatch.

“7,” he said and you scrunched up your nose,

“How much time do you have?”

“Less than half an hour,” he sighed, “How much time do you have?”

“Perks of being the boss,” you wiggled your brows, “I don’t have any meetings before ten o’clock today.”

“Lucky.”

“Incredibly lucky,” you winked at him as you pecked him on the lips and grabbed your bra and underwear off the floor, painfully aware of his gaze on you sending fire underneath your cheeks. You got into your shirt, then narrowed your eyes at him.

“It’s rude to stare professor, where are your manners?” you asked, making him chuckle before he snapped his fingers as if he just thought of something.

“I almost forgot,” he said, pulling away to grab his satchel and he dug into it to pull out a small magnet, making you gasp and snatch it out of his hand.

“You remembered!” you said with a smile, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll put it on the fridge. Coffee?”

He raised his brows and nodded his head, “Yes please.”

“I’m beginning to think I’m becoming a profiler,” you grinned at him and fixed your hair before jumping over the back of the couch. You had every intention to walk to the kitchen but you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over to rest your chin on his shoulder and kissed his cheek, making him smile. He entwined his fingers with you, pressing his lips on the back of your hand, the warmth spreading from that spot through your whole body.

“Thank you,” you said softly and he turned his head to look at you,

“Of course, it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s… it’s not nothing.” You shook your head, “It makes me happy.”

The light in his eyes was so warm that you thought you would melt.

“Good, because I want—“ he swallowed thickly, “I need you to be happy.”

You nibbled on your lip before you stole a kiss from him,

“I am,” you murmured, not lying for the first time in your life. You rushed to the kitchen, putting the magnet on the fridge carefully before you turned the coffee machine on.

“So I was thinking,” you said, “About this 7 hour long conference.”

“You lost that bet, you have to attend it with me.”

“Ah no, I’m not trying to skip it,” you leaned on the kitchen island, “I just have a question.”

He looked over his shoulder, “Yeah?”

“There are bathrooms there right?”

“Of course.”

“And everyone will be pretty busy during and after the sessions?”

“Yeah because the Q and A sometimes goes longer than planned.”

“Great, so we can hook up in the bathroom?”

He blinked a couple of times, as if he couldn’t tell if you were joking.

“Come again?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “What? No one ever does anything fun in these conferences?”

“I don’t—“ he stammered, “They’re highly academic, so I don’t think… I don’t think anyone—um—”

“You okay there, professor?” you grinned, aware of your effect of your words “You’re telling me you keep attending these conferences and then you end up not hooking up with anyone?”

He shook his head, still confused and you winked at him.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” you said, “You’re going to be late if you just keep sitting there and gawking at me by the way, IQ of 187.”  

He tried to pull himself together, gathering his files as you turned around to get the cups out of the cabinet.

“For the record, I think people are having fun in a non-academic way in these things, you just don’t know it yet,” you said, pouring the coffee into the cups “In one of the conferences we had to attend during college, me and my friend got these flasks of whiskey, then we—“ you stopped talking when you turned around and saw him standing there, completely frozen as he skimmed the papers in one of his files.

“What?” you asked when his eyes snapped up to yours, but there was something behind his gaze, completely void of the affection you were used to seeing. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenched and he threw the file onto the kitchen island, making you frown.

Then a shudder ran down your spine.

Your mom’s file on Spencer. The one she had told her P.I to prepare when she paid him to look into Spencer’s past. You had just assumed your mother threw it away when you couldn’t see it after you came home that day, but apparently you should’ve looked harder.

“Y/N,” his voice sounded way too distant, way too cold, “What the hell is this?”

Chapter 16

[chaos-caffeinated]

Miracle of a Chance Ch. 9 (Part 1 of 2)

Taglist: @ultimatebottom69 @bitxhinthecomments @natiebug1

This is the longest chapter of yet, so there will be two parts. One posted today, the other tomorrow!

Enjoy!

There's a little extra in there, I didn't write alcina x reader for nothing.

Giggles erupted into the hallway in a teasing manner, and it came from none other of the three witches themselves: Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. It would stop for a couple minutes and resume once again. Inside a room, the library, was 7-year-old Ezekiel with his mother, Lady Dimitrescu.

Currently in his home studies, Ezekiel's cheeks were puffed as he pouts at his mother's direction, clearly showing his frustration.

"Once you finish with your assignment you can play with your sisters." She stated calmly, reading over his answers. She skimmed through the answers with her glasses on.

"But I did do my work." He raised his papers, "See?" The page was filled of his handwriting. For the past hour, he had been practicing his handwriting, his natural writing and his calligraphy; it needed work, and that is why he was practicing.

Alcina wanted all her children educated, but it was unnecessary for her girls to study what he was because of his human stance. She wanted him prepared for the world, for he would represent what men should be: courteous, respectful, self-worthy, yet still carrying the assertiveness and confidence without humiliating anybody.

She looked up to admit he did finished, "What about the rest?" She asked, opening her palm, only to receive the paper.

"Mom...you said if I had finished my assignment, and I did." Ezekiel confidently spoke, smiling small as he made a point. She was surprised that he listened so well, but she was also slightly upset that now she had to let him go, "Well, Mr. Dimitrescu, You are correct-"

Ezekiel beamed at her reaction, "So I can go?" He asked, almost bouncing in his chair, beginning to pack up.

"Wait a minute, your homework."

Ezekiel slumped in his chair, and Alcina raised an eyebrow which caused him to straighten up in his chair.

Then she placed her hand over the other, "You'll read 5 paragraphs of your favorite book and recite it to me in French, in addition, you'll also practice more of some cursive words to get better at it. That's it for today, you've done well." She praised which lit up his facial features with pride.

"Thank you, Mom!" He cleaned up his desk before running out to the hallway to meet with his sisters.

Alcina smirked softly as she continued grading his papers, distracting her for awhile before going to her bedroom today.

~

Each of the girls' plan was to scare Ezekiel as he searched for them, already deciding to play hide-and-seek. They were ruthless when hiding from Ezekiel, but he would always scream then laugh at their attempt, it was music to their ears when not dealing with actual men, or maidens.

As Cassandra listened to his footsteps, she noticed the pattern of walking and searching, and running with confident of their whereabouts.

When laughter erupted and bounced on the walls, the footsteps stopped only for there to be a scrape.

"Cassandra!" He shouted with confidence laced with his voice, giggling afterwards, "I know that's you."

"It only counts when you find me, little brother!~" She replied arrogantly.

Ezekiel placed his finger on his chin as he glanced around the main living room. He scanned the area before noticing a shadow cast on the ceiling, "There you are! On the ceiling!" He called out. The mass of flies buzzed off from the ceiling and reached to the floor, nearing him only transformed to her human form, giggling, "So you found me first?" She grins, ruffling his hair only for Ezekiel to giggle and fixing it. His hair was in a ponytail with a bow on the back.

"Now you must help me find Bela!" He pointed at nothing in particular as he took charge in the moment.

"Lead the way, brethren." She picked him up and settled him on over her shoulders. Together they searched and searched, and he even looked on the ceiling. That was until they entered a room. Like every room, it was elegantly designed with the golden details, white walls. There were two wardrobes on each side, and both Cassandra and Ezekiel checked twice because "checking twice removes...it's just better to check twice." he would come up with, and the anti-climatic quote would make Daniela burst out laughing only for him to laugh with her.

Once they check the wardrobes, Ezekiel hummed in dissapointment, "They're not here..." he commented, crossing his arms and resting his finger on his chin before he raised an eyebrow at a brick on the floor. He pulled his hand away from his face slightly before making his way to the brick only to notice a broken side of the wall, "Hey, Cassie....what is...this?" His voice faltered as he felt an ominous vibe from inside. It was horribly lit with the terrible rotting wood compared to the golden accents in the castle. The oil lamp was still lit, and he even stepped back.

"OOh~ Bela and Daniela could be down there, mother is going to be very mad." She inspected the broken wall, "Hm..." She turned around to look at Ezekiel with a grin, "Shall we go?"

"Uhm...I don't....I don't want to..." Ezekiel wrapped his own arms around his shoulders as he stared at the room with a uncertain look.

"Oh come on, baby brother, you're going to let them win? We spent an hour looking for them and they could be here." Cassandra pitched in, "Come on, it'll be quick. We'll hop in, and out in no time-"

"You promise?" He asked, his hands trembling softly against his arms as he made eye contact with her piercing yellow eyes.

"Yes, yes, I do promise. Now shall we? Do you want to be behind me?" She started walking inside, "There's a ladder." she revelled, "Bela and Daniela made so much effort for you to look for them."

Hesitantly, Ezekiel followed. He watched and observed everything around him as he became more sensitive, getting goosebumps at any point. He watched Cassandra just become her swarm as she went to the bottom of the ladders and he turned around to get down. He was cautious about his movements as he tried not to get his clothes dirtied from the dust.

When he reached to the bottom, he followed Cassandra as he passed a pile of loose papers by the table and just watched her become the swarm again and into the cracks of the wall. He was confused as to how she knew her way, but he was disappointed that the wall was not a signal of dead end, a signal for him to turn back.

In the process of Ezekiel and Cassandra making their way to the cellar, Alcina was enjoying her meal from her favorite maid, the nanny that was taking care of her son when not playing with his sisters, and someone she secretly considered someone closer than a personal maid.

Her red, semi-glossy lips were pressed against your flesh as she sucked on the blood, making you grunt as you bit your thumb.

"You make a wonderful noise, dear, I made no mistake in trusting you." She complimented as she pulled way, her lips removing from you sounded that of a separated kiss, a kiss you desired for so long.

"Thank you, my lady." You sighed softly as you lay on the bed, sheets covering your torso and below.

She smirked and caressed your cheek, confidence surging as you leaned closer to her, "Who would have thought that because of your persistence, you would be here?"

You turn your face slightly to face her, to see her smile lines, to see her this close to notice the brush strokes, the eye shadow, and the beautiful pair of eyes you laid upon, "I had no participation other than following you, my lady."

She pressed her smile, and even then she got closer ever so slowly, "Well, my dear, I made a good choice. And, draga, it's Alcina to you only." before pulling you in a soft kiss. That moment, you felt light-headed, you felt your heart rate go up by the second and hoping never to forget what happened before you felt her whip away. The rush of air hitting your body like whiplash as you heard it. A scream, and not just any scream you became accustomed. Your eyes widen in fear and concern as you sat up.

Alcina was already up and getting her robe on, helping you with the gown. She wasn't worried about you two anymore, but Ezekiel and it showed.

You felt her hands shiver as you looked up at her, "Go, I'll follow you."

And she didn't hesitate to go.

~~~~

Oh no a cliffhanger?! Oh but you knew already, welp, until tomorrow! Ta-ta!~

[adhdeancas]

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down) 

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products. 

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold. 

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him. 

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth. 

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes. 

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks. 

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended. 

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore. 

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing. 

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register. 

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling. 

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words. 

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff. 

Damn transphobes. 

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect. 

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go. 

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous. 

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and- 

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again. 

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.” 

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar. 

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him. 

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone. 

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen. 

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually. 

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief.  What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried. 

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes. 

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Neighbors Son

You meet your new neighbors son.

Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, Mature-ish, angst

A/n: so this is the start of my Clark Kent Imagine series that will sort of run alongside my Bruce Wayne ones, I re-wrote this about eight times so hope you like the final result as for the health insurance I'm British so have no idea how it works I just went along the lines of how car insurance works here.

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​

The Neighbors Son

Martha chuckled as you sat at her kitchen table grumbling over the papers in front of you.

"You do you lot have to do things so weird?! What the hell is this shit ?And what the fuck does that word even mean. Its not a word that's the fucking alphabet in the wrong order! THEY MADE UP NEW WORDS Martha can you take me out back and shoot me please? At this point I think that's my only option" You grunted resting your head on the table. Martha sighed rolling her eyes at your dramatic display you felt her slip the paper from underneath your head.

"Just whats gotten you so work up now girl..... Health insurance? Well its about damn time! You've been here four months .....I can see why this can seem difficult." She scanned the documents and slapped the side of your head making you sit up.

"Come on up, right this one is the best value but doesn't cover dental or opticians, so you have to pay for them, but it covers illness and emergancey care, if you choose the next one up you’ll get that and it also covers for maternity care." She pointed out the different options, you knew that you’d been lucky in England to have the nhs but until now you didn't know just how lucky.

"Can I upgrade? Like at a later date if I wanna have a one?" The older woman scanned the documents.

"Yes but you wont be able to claim anything for prenatal or maternity for at least six months after adding it to the policy." You nodded you didn't really see yourself accidentally falling pregnant for that you'd need to have sex and you've been on a dry spell since being here. You nodded taking the paper from her."So I will just do that then"  you said wanting it over and done with she sighed at you crossing her arms giving you 'the look' that every woman got when she became a mother."How many have you looked at?" You shrunk under her stern gaze and rubbed the back of your neck nervously.

"Errr so far? In total? One" she sighed shaking her head at you, before pouring you both another coffee setting it in front of you,she hadn't realized how lonley she had been once the farm house across the field had been empty not until you had moved in, all the way from England you had bought the house with your inheritance selling most of the fields to others in the area just keeping a small two acres around the house for yourself. She had met you the day you moved in coming over to introduce herself see if you needed help, you both instantly hit it off and it wasn't long before she was looking out for you. It was hard for you to adjust to life here, loosing your dad was bad but she then found out that your mother had caused major problems practically chasing you out of the country, the woman had been unhappy with the will and wanted her 'half' tho it wasn't millions it was enough for you to live comfortably in the end you'd had to move as she kept coming around to the house causing problems and harassing you for money, you'd had to get away far away so settled in Kansas. It was different but a welcome change, slower and laid back sure sometimes you missed not being in the Hustle and bustle but you had everything you need, a comfy house ,decent car and an income from your books, you was an author writing adult books, tales of gorgeous cowboys, dominant business men and mafia king pin's all falling in love with the women of their dreams with erotic twists and scenes that would make a porn star blush. Martha had been a huge help since you got here ,she had taken you under her wing watching over you and you'd become fast friends, always finding yourselves at each others houses helping each other out. You groaned as she shook her head at you knowing the look. There was a lecture coming.

"That’s just silly, you should look around compare prices and policies, it could save you a lot of money in the long run, especially you i mean your a trouble magnet how you haven't already ended up in ER I don't know?" You smiled sweetly at her

"Because a have a kind and loving neighbor to patch me up" you said casting a look to the scar on your arm where she had sewed you up after a nasty fall on some farming equipment in the barn. She huffed at you rolling her eyes kids. And you was a kid only twenty seven years old younger then her Clark, sometimes she asked you why you don't go into town and meet some people your age you'd always cringe and shiver saying that they were to immature or just banged on about marriage and kids, which neither interested you in the slightest you were quite happy with things the way they were. Martha looked up as the dog perked up outside whining and yipping happily before she heard him

"Ma? You here?" She smiled as he entered the house wrapping her up in his arms she hugged him back.

"Clark? What are you doing here?"  She pulled back a little seeing him upset she cupped his face.

"Oh god whats wrong? Is everything okay? Whats happened?"

"Its Lois...we had an argument I had to leave her Ma, its over she couldn't see past the super-" Martha quickly shushed him as You stood awkwardly thinking it better to leave not wanting to intrude. The man snapped his head in your direction releasing his mum and you were floored he was stunning, sure she had showed you photos of her son but they didn't do any justice. Tall broad and strong his biceps were fucking huge his chest tapered into a perfect v, dark hair hanging in messy curls atop his head some falling forward just skimming his eyes that were a glistening bright blue you felt your pussy clench violently. Fuck. You was so lost that you failed to notice him staring right back at you it was Martha clearing her throat that snapped you both out of what ever trance you'd both been put you under.

"Cheers for the coffee but I should get back and leave two to catch up, anyway this next chapter isn't gonna write itself..... at this point I don't think I’m gonna write it either." You said with a chuckle Martha turned to you putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh no you don't, your going park you butt right there and stay here to search other quotes" you gaped at her looking to her son he held up his hands staying out of it.

"Don't you go looking to him,he wont help you" you huffed crossing your arms

"Did you just give me homework? It sounds like you gave me home work." She nodded

"Damn right, health insurance is a big deal and you don't just pick the first one that pop's up on the internet" you pouted at her trying to change her mind she just stared you down tilting her head then you threw your hands up.

"Oh for fuck sake, fine I will look Jesus Christ" she nodded smiling not missing the way you and Clark was stealing glances at one another, well you stole glances Clark was out right staring. She slapped him upside the head.

"Don’t be rude son introduce yourself" he stuttered shyly flushing at being scolded before holding out a hand towards you quickly.

"Er Clark Kent nice to meet you Mrs?" You took his hand not surprised by how warm it was I mean this guy was hot, it only made sense right?.

"Miss Y/n Y/L/N but just call me Y/n everyone does....apart from your mum she calls me 'a pain in the ass'" he chuckled

"Then we already have something in common" you laughed as Martha motioned for you both to sit at the table smiling knowingly, she saw how Clark couldn't look away how the sorrow in his eyes disappeared as he looked at you. Clark couldn't tear his eyes away from you he gulped eyes raking over your form his mouth gone dry speechless. Wow. You was very attractive like you walked out of one of his fantasies, a tiny homely looking girl light tan with deep chocolate wavy hair in a short bob twisted in a half up do, tiny bun in the back with a few loose strands framing your small face that had a dusting of freckles from being out in the sun, tho he guessed that some were more permanent as they didn'tstop on your face trailing down into you blouse, his breathing hitched as his eyes couldn't help peeking seeing the tops of you breasts spilling over the cups of your bra as you slouched over the table barely resting your elbow on it due to how small you was. His cock twitched you were very tiny the top of your head didn't even reach the top of his chest, he estimated you to be around four foot nine maybe four foot ten he grunted a little, he did have a thing for smaller women, he loved that he towered over average sized women but you were like his dream girl,fuck if he didn't want to fold you in half and fuck you senseless. His pants tightened at the thought, he bet you'd struggle to take him but given the chance he would find a way to impale you forcing your little body to take every punishing inch he grunted a quietly his stomach clenching. He quickly pulled his eyes away before either you would notice trying to calm his slightly ragged breaths this wasn't like him at all, he had been raised a gentleman but sitting here he felt anything but. Drawing his eyes up to yours. Incredible, he got many compliments for his eye but yours were something else, one a light brown honey colour the other was the brightest green he had ever seen, like someone had captured an emerald with in it, he swallowed dryly again becoming hot under the collar twitching in his pants as he continued to assess you. He wasn't sure what you was doing in his Mothers house but he had no complaints whatsoever.

"S-so Y/n your not from around here." his voice cracked a little as he spoke you shook your head at him a little uncomfortable as Martha pottered about the kitchen busying herself with making a fresh pot of coffee, you moved to help her but she just shook her head at you.

"No I moved here four months ago from England, your mum has been helping me get settled, America is a lot weirder than I had initially thought" you giggled a little nervously crossing your legs trying to fight off the building tension between your thighs, it wasn't every day you sat across for a delicious looking male, already picturing him as the main character in your next book with the amount of fantasies you were sure to come you'd probably have enough material for a whole series. He grit his teeth a little as his cock jumped at the melodious sound of your voice and thick southern British accent, he wouldn't admit but your voice had now become his favorite sound of all, imagining just how high he could get it if you ever gave him a chance.

"Wow that’s pretty far, and you chose Smallville why not one of the big cities?" He asked as Martha walked across the kitchen washing up some dishes in the sink, you frowned she never did that when you was here, she was up to something.

"Well Gotham didn't look to promising and I couldn't find anything in metropolis, I didn't have much time to move and when I saw the farm house I thought why not and bought it now I'm just  across the field from your mum. I might get a small place in the city at some point but right now I'm quite happy here"

"You haven't even been to metropolis yet and your already thinking of buying a place there? shouldn't you check it out first? Maybe you could show her around when she does visit Clark? Take her to see the sights she'd like that? Wouldn't you y/n?" Your jaw sort of hung open....was she trying to set you up with her son? You chuckled nervously seeing the smirk on the other woman face.

"Oh Martha he's probably busy-"

"No! No I'm not, I'm not busy at all!.....I-I mean sure I could to show you around." He interrupted you then flushed, Martha shook her head the boy wouldn't know sublty if it bit him on the ass. You blushed sipping more of your coffee.

"Well if your sure... but I need to finish my book I've already postponed the release date once, don't think the publisher will like another one" he smiled as his mother set down a cup and fresh coffee pot he refilled everyone's cups as she took a seat at the head of the table sitting back watching you both fumble around your words blushing and stuttering, there was definitely something going on here and she was a little smug and had a feeling she was going to enjoy this next bit.

"Your a writer? What do you write?" You blushed bright at his question. Oh shit.

"Haha Yeah, well I sort of write books, fiction"

"I don't think I've heard of you tho?" you looked down going beet red your pussy dampening your panties at the idea of him lying back in his bed reading one of your raunchy books.

"I use an alias so I don't get any backlash" he looked a little surprised but it wasn't uncommon even some journalists did this mostly if the do honest reviews of shops and services

"Oh so what type of fiction do you write children's books?" You flushed more at his innocence looking to Martha who was snickering quietly to herself. She was going to be no help here whatsoever.

"No..Not children's books...My stuff is more...Mature" you desperately looked to Martha eyes screaming. Help me!. poor Clark tilted his head a little not understanding why you seemed to be getting so embarrassed

"Oh for teens then?" his mother finally cracked up laughing out right at the face you pulled at him deciding to put an end to to sorry affair, it was painful to watch.

"Oh for god-She writes porn Clark! Erotica, Adult fantasies" Clark spat his coffee not ready for that at all, coughing and spluttering,you got up quickly just dodging the drink sprayed in your direction.

"MARTHA!..Oh shit are you okay big guy?" Patting to poor mans back as Martha sat there sipping her coffee smirking into her cup.

"What? Like I'm wrong? we'd be here all day if I'd let that pan out" You flushed at her words as he finally caught his breath before you sat back down and sunk in your seat mortified she just came out and said it.

"Ah okay then wow I didn't expect that....I mean you look so cute...Not that I don't think you can be sexy and cute cos you are shit I mean er what do I mean?...Its just not what I'd have thought you'd write....But there's nothing wrong with that, I imagine its quite hard NO!no not hard...Not that its easy that's not what I meant just that it would be hard-Difficult! difficult it would be difficult to write." Martha laughed out loud having the time of her life as you both flushed bright red, Clark was trying to talk himself out of his own embarrassment, you on the other hand just Blinked at him as he had a melt down so red he looked like his head was going to pop, finally taking pity on him you interrupted his babbling.

"Its okay...I get what you mean...Sometimes its... Difficult but you just you know keep at it..." Martha smiled oh yes you two definitely liked each other, now if only she could find a way to set you up together. An awkward silence fell over the kitchen as you fiddled with your cup a little and Clark trying to look anywhere but you failing miserably, she decided to have some mercy and change the subject and let you know that he was available all at once.

"So you and Lois are over for good this time?" You leaned back in your seat watching his face drop you couldn't help feel sorry for him.

"Yeah, she just kept pushing, wanting me to be someone I'm not, to play that part all the time I'm sick of it! it started got to the point I no longer had any choice, I'd do what ever for a quiet life even if it made me unhappy" Martha sighed at him she had seen this coming for a long time but had to step back and let him figure it out for himself.

"Clark I'm sorry things didn't work out I really am but she would never be satisfied until everything went her way you knew that"he nodded solemnly sighing you could tell who ever this Lois was had meant the world to him.

"I think I knew deep down she wasn't the one, I just thought if I carried on, if I stuck with it she would see how it was effecting me and change just a little for my sake. Just like I did for her you know?"

"She was never going to son, in her eyes you had become what she wanted so she didn't have to change at all but she forgot the most important thing in a relationship that's its give and take she forgot to be what you needed" Martha held his hand  he sighed looking at her nodding.

"Well this happened just over three weeks ago and she is still carrying on like we are together, like nothings changed! showing up at my apartment when she feels like it and throwing a fit when i don't let her in and is telling everyone I'm her date to this party now I'm stuck, I don't want to go with her but if I go alone then she's going corner me." he sounded exhausted and fed up and slightly bitter towards this woman and with good reason you knew how this type of thing could were on someone, you'd seen it first hand growing up.

"Party? what Party?" he waved his hand at his Mothers question

"A staff party celebrating another award and I don't want to go alone, if I do I know I will end up going back to her I really don't want to. So need to find someone else but there is no one shes still letting everyone think we're together! and none of them want to be on her bad side. I just need a woman to pretend to be my girlfriend for one night"

"Now Clark that's not fair on whoever you take, your a handsome boy and anyone you take might really like you it could crush them if they find out your using them. You can't use one women to prove a point to your ex it isnt right your father and I raised you better then that." You interrupted before she could lay into him anymore.

"I can understand what he is getting at tho, sorry to interrupt and if I'm being out of line tell me, but she sounds like my Mother, relationships are give and take, you can't just take and take and expect your other half to put up with it, Clark if you need someone to go with you to make it clear your finished with her I will go with you, no strings attached or hard feelings but women who think everything should revolve and change around them and their needs really fucks me off!! especially when they pull that shit on a sweet genuine person, in the end these women just destroy the men their with. I don't know you very well but Martha raised you so you can't be that bad and that's enough for me." You hissed some of the words it was like your parents all over again. Your mother was spoilt and selfish always demanding that your father change the way he was for her, you had watched as he had given up everything for her but it was never enough, he had to play a part and it ate away at him for years sending him into a deep depression, yet she never did anything in return or tried to help him. In the end, you at seven years old had found him trying to commit suicide. The thought of you being the one to find his body was what broke the camel's back he threw her out the next day then tried divorcing her but she wouldn't sign the papers so instead they remained separated she had nothing so you was left in your dads care, he was happier then ever but the damage had been done he never found anyone else, she hung around every few months trying to weasel her way back in missing the money more than her family, when she didn't get her way she tried to destroy any happiness he found. Luckily he had sense enough to rewrite his will and piddle away the money in the account he had left to her his final fuck you to her was when the executor of the will read out that you was left with the car, house and just over seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds the housekeeper Susanna was left the holiday home in Devon and forty thousand pounds and your mother well she got twenty nine pound sixty seven pence and was aloud to have the expensive china that the Susanna had been instructed to smash after his passing....Yeah your dad was a bastard but it was funny as fuck. That’s why you had to leave she kept coming to the house harassing you for money. The restraining order hadn't worked so you decided to move you had the means to do it so went for it, she would never find you here and couldn't use the fact shes your mother to find you because you wasn't a minor the cherry on top the account that your dad was leaving for your mother was what he used to pay for your college and university. Martha sighed knowing why you got so wound up and you was right Lois was similar to your mother.

"You'd do that? Really?" You nodded to him smiling

"Absolutely I ain't afraid of no American.... apart from your mum shes scary as fuck, but seriously I can handle anything she tries to throw at me and you can show me around town while your at it, I'm guessing its in metropolis? when is it?" Martha sat back a little stumped turns out she wont have to set you two up after all.

"Err Its this Saturday ,you sure you want to come what about your book?" you waved him off

"Its fine Clark I can bring my laptop and work on it in the hotel" he nodded grinning wide suddenly excited about this next week then faltered.

"Don't bother booking a hotel you can stay with me for the week after all your doing me a huge favor its the least I can do to repay you" he chose to ignore his mothers raised brow. She had a few guesses at exactly how he was planning to pay you back and she doubted it was just going to be bed and breakfast.... probably breakfast in bed if the looks he gave you were anything to go by, not that she minded you would be a better fit for him anyway. Call it mothers intuition but she got the feeling that Clark would be around a little more now that you were just across the field.

"Oh no I couldn't! a hotel would be fine"

"I insist I would love nothing more then to have you to myself for the week" Martha tried to bite back a laugh, she never realized how cheesy her son was trying to flirt, no wonder he didn't have much success but she could see you fall for it hook line and sinker as you flushed squirming in your seat a little, he smirked at you from across the table getting more confident, he liked to think that he had already caught you. Prick he new exactly what he was doing as he leaned back man spreading, making your walls clench.

"You could spend the week ,we can catch a train tomorrow afternoon if you like, be back in time for dinner there's a nice diner near my apartment" you nodded a little suddenly feeling like one of the women in your books flustered heart racing a mile a minute as the man of your dreams offers to take you away from the boring daily routine. The question was were you brave enough to follow through with it, hell you'd moved to the other side of the world on a snap decision, spending a week alone with a drop dead gorgeous man should be a breeze, it didn't take long to decide giving him a shy smile nodding as you had butterflies in your tummy. His face lit up

"Great I will check the train times It's Sunday service but there should still be some in the afternoon"

"Perfect! I should go and pack then I suppose,Martha if I leave a key here could you watch the house for me and feed the fish when I'm gone" she nodded quickly excited but anxious at the same time, hoping that you would hit it off with Clark but at the same time apprehensive about how fast you was going, after all you only just met, but you were both adults and could handle yourselves and she knew you'd be safe with him.

"Oh is it formal or what?"

"Oh yes, its theme is Hollywood glam"

"Oooo I've got the perfect dress, any way I'm off and will see you both tomorrow be back around eleven tomorrow morning?" he stood nodding walking you to the door making you swoon inside as he opened the door above you reminding you just how big he was, a gentle giant.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow then Clark" he leaned down to your ear whispering

"Can't wait, sweet dream's Y/n I know mine will be" you gasped as he pulled away winking chuckling at your hot cheeks, he could have a lot of fun making you blush he decided as you turned quickly scampering down the stairs away from the house towards yours, who's roof you could barely see over the crops from this distance. He stayed there leaning on the door frame arms crossed groaning watching your ass sway as you made your way into the brakes in the crops what the tractors used to get across the field disappearing into the high crops.

"So you like her then?" he jumped back bumping into the door frame making it creak a little at his mothers sudden appearance, she giggled folding the tea towel in her hands.

"Wow you must have taken a shine to her if your so mesmerized by her or more specifically her backside, that I can sneak up on you,I haven't been able to do that since you were a little boy." he chuckled embarrassed that she'd caught him staring

"Not that I think you would but Clark? don't play with her feelings okay? shes a good kid and had it tough over the past few years and she doesn't need a heart break on top of everything else" he snapped his head to his mom.

"Ma you know I wouldn't-" she fixed him with a look

"You just admitted in there that you was going to use some poor girl to make a point to Lois and I'm telling you now if you hurt her I wont be impressed"

"I wouldn't do that to her, I wont hurt her I promise, but I would like to get to know her more...see if we could you know" she smiled softly at him

"I'm just saying your a handsome man and she could fall for you easily, don't use her as a rebound." he sighed she had a point but after seeing you all thoughts of Lois died.

"I like her Ma do you-do you think maybe she could like me to? this time have a relationship with me, get to know Clark Kent before Superman? that Clark could be enough this time?" that made her pause clenching the cloth in her hands twisting it, there was something in the way he said that, so unsure and hopeless she fumed inside his confidence was knocked she felt like she was speaking to the shy beaten down preteen he once was. He truly believed that Clark Kent wasn't good enough anymore and there was only one person to blame for that,it was with those words she realized that Lois had hurt him and hurt him bad, she sighed pulling him down kissing his cheek then cupped his cheeks making him look her in the eye.

"Now you listen to me and you listen well. You are good enough and you are loved, I don't know what Lois has put into your head, and for her safety I don't think I should know, but you forget it right this instant! you hear me?" he nodded a little still unsure as Martha searched his eyes for a little glimmer of confidence but her heart clenched when she couldn't find any, that confidence from earlier must have been false bravado. Lois was lucky she wasn't going to metropolis herself she's probably kill her for hurting her baby, tho she's sure Y/n was going to rip her apart in her stead it was a pity she wouldn't be there to see it.

"I think Y/n is already smitten with you and that you'd be good for one another. I've only known her four months but She doesn't try to be anything she's not, she takes people as she sees them and doesn't have time for all the games other women play its why we get along so well. And as a side note she has never reacted like that to any one else's attempts at flirting trust me there have been quite a few try when we've been out and she shut them down....Quite brutally now that I think of it. But if your serious about her give it your all I don't think you will be disappointed I think you'd be a good match." she wiped under his eye as they welled a little with unshed tears.

"Y-you really think she could like me?" he asked in a small voice.

"There’s no doubt in my mind that she already does, you think she'd agree to spend a week with you if she didn't? Honestly if you both hadn't made plans I was going to play matchmaker myself. Now why don't you go have a cold shower? and I can start on dinner"

"Cold shower?"

"You think I haven't notice your problem?" he flushed laughing wiping at his eyes and pulling his top down a little trying to cover the tent in his pants as she walked back into the house patting his back.

"Oh shit! You think she notice to?!" his mother laughed shrugging

"Who knows I mean she was checking you out to" as she entered the kitchen he stood there dumbfounded

"What Are you sure? I didn't notice"

"You wouldn't your a man, now go have a shower you are not eating at the table like that" he groaned shaking his head closing the front door making his way up the stairs to the bathroom.

[sunsetcurbed]

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie  Words: 5,251  Rating: T  Chapter Warnings: homophobia  Chapter: 6/11  read on AO3 

Chapter Summary:  The sun has already set by the time they get back to the car and with a glance at his phone he sees two things. First, that it's already half past six and second, that he has… a lot of missed calls and texts.

"Oh," he says, before he even buckles his seatbelt. "Is the group harassing you too?"

Willie glances over at him with a confused look and then pulls out his phone. "Whoa, yeah. Wonder what that's about."

(*) 

The sun has already set by the time they get back to the car and with a glance at his phone he sees two things. First, that it's already half past six and second, that he has… a lot of missed calls and texts.

"Oh," he says, before he even buckles his seatbelt. "Is the group harassing you too?"

Willie glances over at him with a confused look and then pulls out his phone. "Whoa, yeah. Wonder what that's about."

In skimming through the messages, Alex gets the gist of it—Luke is sorry, the group is worried about him, and after a while, they start to get worried about Willie as well. Before Alex can answer any of them, Willie has already sent the group text a message explaining that they were on a hike and hadn't looked at their phones. Within seconds, a message from each person in their group arrives, all variations telling them to come to the studio. Willie's eyebrows go up. He looks at Alex. "You up for it?"

Alex isn't sure if he is or not, but they're his best friends and he knows Luke is probably having a melt down, so he nods. Ten minutes later, Willie is pulling into the Molina's driveway. Reggie comes bouncing out of the garage, drumming his hands on the hood of Willie's car, and the two of them laugh as they unbuckle and get out.

"Hey, guys!" Reggie yells.

"Hey, man," Willie greets, walking towards him and tossing an arm around Reggie's shoulders, dragging him towards the studio, hurrying along fast enough that Reggie has to stumble to keep up. They're laughing as they go and Alex smiles as he watches. He follows behind them at a slower pace, so when he gets in the studio, Willie has let go of Reggie and is saying hi to the other three already. Alex looks from Flynn to Julie and then his eyes land on Luke, who is staring at him. He's sunken into the couch, eyes round and just on this side of miserable.

It's now going on seven hours since they've seen each other, and Alex knows the majority of that time, Luke has understood that Alex has no plans of leaving the band. And, well, Luke's first thoughts might always be music, but he also does genuinely care about people too. That's especially true for his band—for Alex, Reggie, and Julie. Alex knows that Luke is feeling guilty about the whole thing. He knows that the entire thing is behind them now, that Luke knows he's staying, that Luke knows Alex prioritizes the band too.

… He also knows that the band wasn't the only reason Luke was upset earlier.

Alex knows Luke. They haven't made it through eleven years of friendship on sheer luck.

"It's okay, dude," Alex says.

Luke laughs but it's not all there. "I'm still sorry."

"I didn't tell you guys, so. I'm sorry too."

"Yeah, well, I'll forgive you if you say hi to William and Harry for me," Flynn says from where she's lounging.

"Yes!" Willie whoops pumping his arms and twirling around.

Alex shakes his head. "Uh-uh. She didn't—"

"She called you Prince Charming at lunch," Reggie tells him.

"Oh. Well." Alex brings a hand up and scratches behind his ear, and looks at Flynn. "Thanks for that."

"Any time," she smirks.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Luke asks, and there it is. The other reason Luke had been upset.

Because, well. If the band had been Luke's only concern, it likely would have ended in an argument at lunch, then and there. Luke was passionate about music and he fought for what he was passionate about. But him storming away today? That wasn't out of passion. That was out of pain. He had been hurt that Alex hadn't told him, had been hurt that there was something about Alex that he didn't know. After all, Luke had been Alex's person for years. He was the first person that Alex came out to, the first person he turned to after a fight with his parents, the first person he went to for help. But that has changed lately. Since Luke got with Julie and since Alex's feelings for Willie developed further, the two of them had different people now. It wasn't that they were any less close—not at all. They still told each other everything. They just weren't always the first to know, not anymore. But this… Luke hadn't known this at all.

"I… I didn't want you to know," he admits while he stares at the ground, unable to see Luke's face as he admits this. "I barely wanted to know about it. I mean, this lady shows up and tells me I'm a prince and that I've gotta learn how to act like one and learn the history and politics and culture of another country and—I didn't want to think about it, man. And I knew telling you guys would make it more… real. I didn't know if you guys would think it was funny or if you'd think it was weird. And—and even if we didn't talk about it you'd still know and I'd still know you knew and I'd be wondering what you were thinking so then I'd wanna talk about it not to talk about it but to find out your thoughts and… it didn't have anything to do with you guys. I was just… I didn't know how to deal with it. I don't know how to deal with it. So I just… didn't."

"You told Willie," Flynn points out with a raised eyebrow. Alex kind of wants to fight her right now because he's trying to fix things with Luke, Flynn but he sees that Luke's shoulders are more relaxed now, so he thinks he's in the clear.

"I… I needed to talk to someone. And Willie—Willie—"

"What they have is stronger," Reggie quotes Willie from earlier. Everyone immediately 'ooohs'.

Earlier, it was a joke. Earlier, it was Willie teasing Reggie. Earlier, it was wishful thinking.

Now?

Now Alex has to turn his eyes to the floor because he's scared his burning face is going to give him away and maybe Willie doesn't want that and—

Something grabs his hand. He jumps and looks down at his hand to see another hand in his. He follows the hand up, up the arm, over the shoulder, landing on the face of Willie. He's got a small smirk on, but he tilts his head to the side and bounces his eyebrows. Alex understands the question in the movements and turns towards him. Willie takes that as the answer he needs and brings his hand up to curl around Alex's neck and draws him in for a short, heartfelt kiss. The 'oohs' change to 'oh my gods' and Willie and Alex have to break apart because Alex starts laughing at Luke's high-pitched screech. Willie doesn't let go of his neck but he steps away. The smile one Willie's face is blinding and Alex is willing to bet his matches.

"Dudes, I thought that was a joke!" Reggie yells.

"It was," Willie tells him, stroking the side of Alex's neck with a gentle thumb. "At lunch, anyway."

Their friends all start talking over one another and Alex laughs, moving with Willie to take a seat on the ground. When Julie demands to know how it happened, Willie smirks. "We went on a hike, screamed a bit, and then Alex told me how he felt and I kissed him."

"Alex made the first move?" Luke asks, disbelieving.

"Hey," Alex frowns.

"No offense bro, but we've been waiting for years now and you haven't done shit. Excuse me for my surprise."

"You were friends with Julie for three and a half years before you made a move, I did it in two."

"Yeah well you've liked Willie since kindergarten," Reggie says.

Alex dives across Willie's lap to smack Reggie. "I didn't even know him in kindergarten!"

"But longer than ninth grade, at least," Luke says confidently. "Longer than two years."

Alex's face goes up in flames and he stares at the ground. He can see Willie looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't even know him though, thinking he's cute doesn't count."

"How long have you liked Alex, Willie?" Reggie asks. Oh, god. Alex doesn't want to know. It's going to make him sound so much more pathetic.

Alex turns his head in time to see Willie look at Reggie and shrug. "A long time. Before I even really knew him I thought he was cute. Thank god he turned out to actually be as interesting as I had hyped him up to be."

"Really?" Alex asks, feeling his heart rate speed up. Hyped up? Willie had thought about him enough before they knew each other to have expectations?

Willie turns to him. Alex must have his anxiety written all over his face because Willie's eyes go soft and he smiles. "Yeah. The day I ran into you on the beach? With the hot dogs? I was actually looking for you. I'd seen you there already that day and I wanted to see you again, so I wasn't really paying attention to where I was skating because I was focused on trying to find you." He hums and knocks their shoulders together. "I did."

Oh.

"O… kay," Alex says, looking down at his hands and picking at the side of his thumb. He'd figured out what his feelings for Willie were in the sixth grade, and even at that age he knew that boys liking boys wasn't the majority. So he didn't hold out hope of Willie liking him back, even if sometimes his mind did like to pretend back then. When Willie came out to them when Alex was in ninth grade, Alex had already gone three years thinking (knowing) that there was no way that Willie could like him back. But then in the few months of knowing Willie, Alex had come to realize that Willie was just entirely too good for Alex. In ninth grade, learning Willie liked boys didn't change Alex thinking (knowing) Willie couldn't like him, even if sometimes he did like to hope. It just became for a different reason. So hearing that Willie had liked him, and for 'a long time'… Alex wasn't sure what to do with that information.

He doesn't get too long to contemplate it (beyond the thought of 'what took us so long then?') because after the group throws a few more questions at Willie, they turn their attention to Alex.

"So what have you really been doing after school? With the prince stuff?" Reggie wonders.

"I really have been with my grandma. She's, uh… the Queen of Beasiga by the way. We're just… I call them prince lessons." Everyone laughs. Alex smiles. "They're… It's like etiquette lessons mixed with Beasiga lessons—history, politics, government, culture, economy—mixed with world politics lessons mixed with foreign language lessons."

"And… you do this on top of school?" Julie frowns, her face clearly concerned for Alex.

He nods. "Yeah, but my grandma is really considerate of my time. She even helps me with my history and econ homework most days and gives me extra information."

"What kind of things do you do?" Luke wonders.

"Well, most nights I eat dinner over there, right? But apparently my posture sucks so they tie me to my chair." The entire group laughs again and Alex laughs with them. "It's also just… a lot of studying. Uh… Let's see… Beasiga began by a charter during a war between its two neighboring countries in 1634 and formed into a country in 1715. They're a constitutional monarchy with a two-party system. Over half of their GDP can be accounted for through tourism. They haven't been involved in a war since the 1810s. They got rid of their army in the 1880s and signed treaties with other countries for foreign protection. Uh…" he looks at his friends, who he realizes asked what he did—not what he learned. "Um. I'm learning how to… carry myself? like a prince. We're working on emotional intelligence this week. Things like self-awareness and empathy and interacting with others. There's some dancing? Not the fun kind, though. Ballroom dancing."

They carry on like this until it's quarter until eight, at which point Alex can't ignore the hunger pangs in his stomach. He promises to discuss it more with them tomorrow if they want, or that they can text him if they have any pressing questions, and then he and Willie take their leave.

He expects that to be the end of a stress filled day, but when they pull up to Alex's house, one of the Beasigan limos is parked on the street out front.

"I would offer to let you come in since we haven't actually eaten dinner," Alex murmurs as Willie turns in the driveway, "but I have no idea what's going on inside. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Willie says. He reaches over and twines their fingers together and squeezes. Alex looks over at Willie. Willie smiles and leans in. They'd kissed a few more times on the hike, and then the once at Julie's, so it feels natural now for Alex to meet Willie half way. They keep the kiss short—they're in a car outside of his house and his family is inside, and they don't know he's gay, so. Plus, something royal might be happening inside if the limo is anything to go by, so it's not the time to be pushing even if he wants to. Willie is the first to pull away (Alex thinks it's probably because he's the one with better self-control) and when he leans back in his seat he lets go of Alex's hand and smiles. "You should get inside. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah," Alex says. He sends one last look at Willie, says bye one last time, and then grabs his bag and gets out of the car. Willie waits in his driveway until Alex has unlocked his door and is inside, and then he backs out of the driveway and drives off. Alex closes the door behind him, dropping his backpack on top of the shoes he has just toed off, and wanders into his house. "Mom? Dad?" he calls.

"In here," his dad calls from the dining room.

He follows the voice through the rooms of the house until he's standing in the entrance of the dining room where he finds his parents, his siblings, his grandmother, and John sitting around their expanded dining room table. They all have plates in front of them, either empty or nearly empty. It looks like Chinese and Alex takes a moment to be surprised that his grandmother would eat take away Chinese food. Then he realizes she probably didn't plan her visit, and they had to order take out, and Chinese was a better option than pizza. "Hey," he says. The group all calls out a greeting.

"Alexander," his grandmother says. "We were just discussing the events of today and ideas for security going forward. We're going to see how the next few days play out and go from there."

"Sounds good," he says. "Is there any more of that? I haven't eaten."

"Yes, in the kitchen," his mom nods towards the kitchen, and Alex goes at once to make himself a plate. He's back, taking a seat at the table next to John after a minute, and bites his lip. "Mom, Dad, Grandma? Can I talk with you before Grandma leaves tonight?"

His grandmother looks at the clock on the wall. "It's getting quite late. Will it take long?"

"Uh… no. No. Just—"

John clears his throat and excuses himself from the room, clearing all the empty plates. He takes them through to the kitchen and turns on the sink to start rinsing them off.

"Ava, Austin," his mom calls, getting his siblings' attention. "Why don't you two go to your rooms? You each get half an hour of Switch time."

No more needed to be said—they were out of their seats and running out of the room as soon as she said the word 'Switch.' Alex snorts, and looks down at his full plate of food. He debates taking a bite because he's absolutely starving, but he'd rather not be talking with his mouth full for this.

"So—with this news thing, there's going to be rumors, right?"

"We'll take care of all of those," his grandmother says, shaking her head. "You don't need to worry."

"Well—I. I'm not overly worried. I mean, rumors are rumors, right? You can just prove them false, right? Someone says I do drugs, I take a drug test. Someone says I'm not really my father's son, you guys have the paternity test," he says. "I'm not really worried. And like, I'm not really worried about what I'm about to say either because there's not really any malicious people at my school, even if there are rumors about me. I don't think anyone would go to any news source and talk about those rumors either, especially because they only know them to be rumors. The chances of this getting out are slim to none. But, I'm sixteen and—and—" and Willie "—and I've been learning a lot in prince lessons. And part of that is confidence. And part of confidence for me is being brave, which… I have, historically, not been. But today I was. And—I'm trying to be right now? It's harder. It's always harder in the moment. But—well, yeah, I'm gay."

Alex wants to make some astute observation about the silence that follows his declaration, but he can't, because it only lasts a second or two. Rather than stretching on like he thought it would, it breaks quickly because his grandmother smiles and says, "why, Alexander, thank you for telling us."

Alex looks at her, head turning a little too quick for his neck's liking and blinks. "You—you're okay with this?"

"Well, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, I just. Well, not everyone is. And I thought you—"

"Now that the world knows you are a prince, I was going to invite you to a dinner we're having at the consulate next Thursday," his grandmother says, and Alex closes his mouth from where it was formed around his next word, confused at the sudden subject change. "It's a very important dinner and many members of our government will be there. Perhaps you can meet our Prime Minister, Jeffry Marley. And his husband."

Alex feels like something in the air has changed.

Beasiga's Prime Minister is gay? Is openly married to a man?

He blinks, looks down at his plate again, but he's not really hungry anymore. He thinks. One of his biggest hold ups about being Prince of Beasiga was the fact that he was gay. He didn't think that he could be Prince due to his sexuality, or at least didn't think the people would accept him because of it.

The monarch—his grandmother—appoints the Prime Minister, not the people, so… "And how do the people feel about Jeffry?"

"Oh, wonderfully," his grandmother waves him off, as if him asking is a ridiculous question. "We were among the first to legalize same-sex marriage—it has been legal in Beasiga since 2005. Our citizens are plenty happy with our leaders, and they would be plenty happy with you, as well."

That… That's…

Alex can't think about that right now.

He turns to his parents. "Mom, Dad?"

His dad is staring at the table and nods at him in acknowledgement, and his mom is looking at him with a smile, but he knows her well enough to know that it's not… it's not a smile. His stomach sinks. "Of course you know we love you, sweetie," she says. He's not sure if his grandmother can hear the tension in her voice, or if it's something that takes years to tune into. But he can hear it. "Thank you for telling us."

"Yeah, of course," he says, but the building good mood he had a minute ago has gone to shit with their dismissal.

"Well, then," his grandmother says, noticing the souring of the mood. "I think it's time for John and I to go. Alexander, I trust I'll see you tomorrow, all well? … after the day you've had?"

He blinks. He's pretty sure she's asking if he's safe to be left here. "Yeah. I'll be there tomorrow, fine and ready to learn about Beasiga in the 1700s."

"Good, I'm glad. Well…"

"I'll show you out," his dad says, standing up from the table and walking towards the kitchen to where John was, not sparing a glance in Alex's direction.

"I will see you tomorrow, Alexander," his grandmother says before following his dad.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he calls back. When she's gone, he finally takes a bite of his food, but there's no taste to it, which is shocking for the fact that it's Chinese food and Chinese food is always flavorful. He doesn't think it's an issue with the food, but instead his brain. His stomach needs food though, so he shovels it in, bite after bite, not stopping even as he hears the front door open and close, even as he hears the doors of the car outside open and close, and not even as he hears his dad slam the bedroom door. Alex sees him mom flinch at that last one and sighs. "You wanna go join him? Slam some bathroom cabinets closed to get some of that anger out while you're at it?"

Her head snaps up and she looks at him. "I'm not—I'm not angry."

Alex scoffs. "Sure."

"I'm not!"

"Right," Alex nods. "You're not angry. He is. You're disappointed."

She opens her mouth, leaning forward, ready to say something, and Alex braces himself, but the words never come. She falls back into her seat. She mumbles something under her breath that Alex doesn't quite catch and he frowns.

"What?"

She furrows her eyebrows together. "It's all going wrong," she repeats. Alex reels back, stunned. She barely takes notice, barreling on. "Thing after thing in your life, it all just keeps piling on and I don't know when it's going to stop. When you were in seventh grade you loved math and science and you wanted to be like Mike, do you remember? We started planning for Stanford or Yale or, hell, even Berkeley if you couldn't get into one of those. But then you got more serious about the drums. And then… then you and your friends made that band. And you got into Los Feliz, so how could we say no? It's still a top school. But then you started talking about gigs and tours and albums and… Alex, you've done great with the band, really. So we thought—maybe you'd put college on hold for a few years to pursue your music, but then you'd go back." She nods to herself assuredly, and looks up at the ceiling, drawing in a deep breath. "And then your dad dies. Not having had any other children, leaving you the heir to the throne of Beasiga. Something he and I had every intention to avoid for you, because I… I didn't want you growing up in that life. I didn't want you growing into that life. Into a prince and then a king who would be all about a country and not about himself and have no room to live your own life. And then that man has to show up claiming his right to the throne, so your grandmother has to contact you early. Throws off your entire junior year. It puts you in a position where you have to choose if you actually want to be prince or not. You're not mature enough to make that choice! You just got your driver's license this summer. And now—now you won't even get a normal family."

Alex stares across the table at his mom, completely unsure of what to say. There's a lot to unpack there, and there's a lot that he wants to argue with her on. He's about to start when—"What do you mean a man showed up wanting the throne?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are you talking about? You said something about a man claiming a right to the throne," Alex reminds her. "What was that about?"

"Oh," his mom says. "I'm not sure if I'm meant to tell you about that if you don't already know."

"Well I know now, so tell me."

She looks at him and sighs. "There's a man in Beasiga who, if you renounce your claim, is next in line for the throne. I don't know much about him, but he's… pushy, and he's been pressing your grandmother about you. It's why she decided to tell you before your eighteenth birthday."

"Do you know his name?"

"Covington, I think," she says. "Why is this so important?"

Well. That's a good question. "I just think I deserve to know these things," he makes up. "You guys hid enough from me for sixteen years." This is something he needs to think more on, though. He stands up from the table and carries his plate towards the kitchen. When he's at the exit of the dining room, he turns back to his mom. "By the way, mom. I will get to have a normal family. Unless I choose to become prince. Then, only then, maybe my normal will be a little different." He moves to the sink to rinse off his plate, not bothering to give his mom time to answer.

It's when he's rinsing the sauce and rice off the plate that he starts to think about what really just happened. Coming out to his parents and grandmother, finding out the country he could potentially be prince of is pretty fucking progressive and would accept him, being all but shut down by his parents, finding out that there was someone ready to take the throne should he step down, and then—

Unless I choose to become prince.

He didn't say that for his mom's benefit.

He slots his plate into the dishwasher and grabs his backpack from by the front door, then makes his way to his room. He closes the door behind him and moves to his bed, falling down on it and pulling out his unfinished homework so he can complete it.

Unless I choose to become prince.

Where the fuck did that come from?

Okay, yeah, being gay was one of his biggest arguments against accepting his role as prince. Before tonight, he never could have dreamed of it. Before tonight, he couldn't even come out to his parents, how was he expected to come out to an entire country? But… but after tonight… He came out to his parents. And his parents didn't react well. And Alex—he's anxious, yeah, but he's not panicking. And Beasiga is apparently a lot more accepting than Alex's parents, so coming out to that country isn't as scary anymore. Hell, coming out to the world isn't as scary anymore—his parents are the ones in a position of power over Alex, at least immediately, and they're just quiet, angry, and disappointed.

Did Beasiga's progressive views really change his stance on being a prince that much?

No, he doesn't think so.

Covington was also a factor.

Sure, Alex doesn't know much about the man—doesn't know anything about the man—but if his grandmother felt pressured by anyone, well, that can never be a good sign. He's gotten to know her quite well over the past couple of weeks and she's not one to back down. She'd gotten into an argument with him over his own lyrics and refused to accept his word when he pulled the 'I wrote the song' card. Alex knows it's not just that he is easy to go up against, because he's seen her in meetings with diplomats from other countries. She's like the goddess of reasoning Athena—but her reasoning isn't actual reasoning, it's just an impossibility to argue against her. So someone forcing her hand… Well, Alex feels threatened. There's no way this Covington man can be a good person, and he suspects that's why his grandmother had come on so strongly at first. She's scared for her country.

Is that enough for Alex, though?

He's thinking about it now, he admits that much. He can't stop thinking about it. The thing is: the prince lessons are working. He can not only eat with correct posture and the correct utensils at a meal now, but he's also learning more and more about Beasiga and its history and is genuinely enjoying his time doing so. He's noticed his confidence has gone up. He's even started speaking with a different cadence to his voice. The care he has for the Beasigan people he's heard and read about and had the opportunity to meet and talk to is overwhelming and he wants to be a part of their lives, wants to improve their lives. He has ideas to improve their lives, good ones that his grandmother has heard and approved of. All the things his grandmother is trying to instill in him are showing up, but there are still two very obvious issues.

Number one: he's in a band. He can't leave that band. He literally just promised that band he would not be leaving them. He doesn't want to leave the band. He loves playing the drums, loves singing, loves making music with his friends. Wednesdays and Saturdays are the best days of the week and he could never dream of giving those up.

Number two: two and a half weeks ago he stood in front of a room of twenty students to give a speech and nearly passed out as a result. Public speaking is still a part of being a prince, and being in front of crowds is still a thing that he can't do. Of course, now that he's actually listened to Julie, he knows it's more the whole… attention thing when he's alone, not the speaking thing, but. Being a public figure involves attention.

He supposes he can bring it up with his therapist—after all, he sees her tomorrow afternoon—and see if she has any suggestions about overcoming that, but…

Why is he thinking about this?

What changed so drastically from this afternoon at lunch, when he was positive in telling Reggie that he'd made his mind up, to now, when he was considering asking his therapist for tips to help him so he could maybe be a prince? What made him go from scoffing at the idea of ruling a country to figuring out ways to make it possible? Why was he considering taking such a huge leap in his decision all of the sudden?

And then he remembered.

The lock.

The lock that broke somewhere inside him today.

He's not sure what the hell it had been holding back, but whatever it was is open and free now and Alex isn't sure if he's scared or excited about that.The sun has already set by the time they get back to the car and with a glance at his phone he sees two things. First, that it's already half past six and second, that he has… a lot of missed calls and texts."Oh," he says, before he even buckles his seatbelt. "Is the group harassing you too?"Willie glances over at him with a confused look and then pulls out his phone. "Whoa, yeah. Wonder what that's about."

[kiatheinsomniac]

Sooooo I know that we don't know each other that much but I had this thought and the first blog to come to my mind was yours, I was in Pinterest reading aus and found one that said you stop aging at 18 if u don't find ur soulmate and I thought about what if ur not from the same decade and that person lived all those years til now, imagine having a romantic dinner with the person and somehow when they were born comes up and damn I knew I was into older people but not that old and afagajhabwjahan

(Y/n) sat down hurriedly as she took her seat, already having missed the very opening of the play. She looked at her date who had new hope in his eyes at her sudden presence.

"I'm so sorry," She whispered to avoid disturbing anyone else in the café théâtre, "There was a delay at the Cité stop."

"It's alright, you're here now." He smiled, "I was worried that you weren't going to show up."

"I could never." She replied with a soft smile as he waved a waiter over.

"The usual and a (favourite coffee), s'il vous plaît, Victor." He spoke in a polite tone, proceeding to describe any other details of (Y/n)'s drink to the man, the employee nodded his head and went off to make them both.

(Y/n) had met Arno here at his café théâtre, she went in most mornings seeing as she worked at the florists just down the street. She was enchanted by the place when she first found it, often leaving the house earlier to enjoy a coffee and a chapter of her book there before her first shift of the day. There were often performers on the stage too and it was her favourite thing when a violinist or pianist was playing on the stage as she immersed herself in the pages of whichever novel she had been reading that month. Quite often, when she went in, Arno was the one working behind the counter. It wasn't uncommon for the two to flirt with each other at all either.

In fact, he didn't realise how much he liked seeing her in the mornings until she was put on an earlier shift at work and no longer had the time to visit his café in the mornings. When her shifts returned to normal, he asked her on a date the very first chance he got, and she readily accepted.

So, that's what brought them here.

"It's sweet to know that you remember my favourite drink." She smiled softly, feeling a slight heat on her cheeks.

"How could I not? You come in almost every morning." He teased, "But, I must admit, I usually take care to make sure I get it right for you." He watched her look down at her lap shyly, her smile tugging at her lips despite her trying to hide it. It was a small gesture but in a world full of so many thoughtless people, it meant a lot to her.

"So, (Y/n), what sorts of things do you like? Other than reading, I know plenty of Mary Shelley and Jane Austen by now." He replied. (Y/n) recalled to where he would often ask her how her book was going and she'd share her thoughts and favourite quotes with him.

"Well. . . I really like history and the arts. I think that there's always so much to learn from the people who came before us." At her choice of words, his face became painted with an amused smile, "And we have so many sources to look to now, to see the error in our past and current ways, to change things for the better. I'm particularly fond of the Renaissance and the French and American revolutions."

"The French revolution?" He raised a brow.

"Absolutely!" She replied with a grin and sparkling eyes, "I can understand why people aren't fond of it - it was bloody, ruthless, some instances were horrifyingly shocking and so many lives were lost. But how many lives would have continued to fall to poverty if that had not happened? I love the politics behind it, how easily Robespierre, the seemingly untouchable man, fell to corruption and, eventually, the guillotine. Also, movements like that are important became it gave many women the chance to show their worth - the women's march on Versailles, Charlotte Corday, Theroigne de Mericourt. . ."

"Ah, yes, I knew her."

"Oh, you've studied her?" (Y/n) replied, thanking the waiter as he placed their coffees down on the table before them. Arno laughed heartily, watching her confusion with amusement, the way she furrowed her brow and tilted her head, looking much more adorable in his eyes than she should.

"No, I met her. I helped her to get some food to the poor and get rid of some Jacobins too." He watched her face fall into shock, hardly able to drink his coffee with the smile on his face.

"How long have you been looking for your soulmate? When were you born?" She raised her brows. In this world, looks could be very deceiving: an eighteen-year-old could be a five-hundred-year-old. (Y/n) had even heard stories of people who kill their soulmates so that they never die.

"I looked for around two centuries, stopped after the first world war, then starting looking again," He hesitated, "recently." In truth, he had given up altogether until he met the (h/c)-haired woman sitting opposite him, "And I was born in 1768."

"Wow. . ." She breathed out, "You've lived through a good portion of history then, huh?"

"You could say that." He shrugged, "I take it that you're actually eighteen?"

"Twenty-six, actually." She replied, taking a sip of her favourite coffee, "So, I'm on a date with a two-hundred and fifty-two year old?" She tutted at him and shook her head teasingly, all in light-heartedness.

"All jokes I've heard before, chérie." He replied.

"Must be a lot of birthday candles." She continued to tease with a childish grin as he rolled his eyes playfully.

"Cut the old jokes and I’ll let you see some of my memorabilia from the revolution, how does that sound?" He cut her a deal. She lifted her hand to mimic zipping her lips and throwing the zip away.

"If it's not a sensitive subject, would you mind telling me if it's been difficult? Trying to find a soulmate, I mean." She spoke in a more serious tone.

"I always thought that my first love was my soulmate. Her name was Élise. My parents. . . weren't really in the picture when I was a boy so I was raised by Élise's father. We grew up together and we fell in love as teenagers. We both thought that we were perfect for each other but. . . neither of us aged after eighteen. It didn't make me love her any less, though. But, one day. . . She died in a fight." She could see that he was still upset by her death, though, the time passed since had clearly made him accept it and learn how to talk of it openly. "I've had a few lovers since then and many went the same way: three serious ones in the 19th century who left when they met their soulmates. One in the 1910s who died in prison-" He saw the look of shock on (Y/n)'s face "- she wasn't a criminal, she was a suffragette; as was I." He paused a moment more, "I gave up after that until recently."

"What made you change your mind?" She propped her chin on her hand, hanging onto each little detail of his stories. Was that the hint of a blush she could see on his cheeks?

"Not to be an old-fashioned romantic. . ." He joked, making (Y/n) smile at him joining in with her old jokes, "But it was you." Her back straightened a bit with surprise.

"Me?" He reached for her hand across the table, watching him nod his head as he idly twisted her fingers around his.

"You give me hope." He smiled simply.

♡♡♡

Quite a few months had passed since then - as had many more dates and Arno asking to ‘court’ her (that earned him both a ‘yes’ and many old jokes) - and (Y/n) was currently laid with Arno in his room, it was early in the morning and they were half-dressed, tangled in the bedsheets with half-drank coffee on the bedside table and a tray of various snacks laid by them: different cheeses, sweetmeats, cut fruits. Arno had his head laid on her stomach and she was propped against the wall, a pillow cushioning her back. One of her hands was running through his hair, his eyes closed as he listened to her voice and lavished in her gentle caresses. Her other hand was holding a copy of Frankenstein: they'd both read it before but shared a love for it.

" 'How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful! - Great God! ' " She glanced down to her lover, lips pursing as she laid the book down.

"Have you been stressed lately, amour?" She furrowed her brows, making him open his eyes.

"Having to change suppliers for the café has been a bit difficult, yes." He sighed, "What makes you ask?"

"You have a silver hair." She commented. His hand went to his head rapidly as he sat up, finding the culprit hair with shock. His mouth fell agape and (Y/n) was confused for a moment before she realised what this meant for both of them. He turned to face her, watching the smile creep onto her lips as he lunged forward to cup her face, pulling her into a deep kiss and holding her body as close to his as possible, skimming his hands down her spine as hers went up to rest on his shoulders, the two of them having to pull apart from smiling too much. He held her tenderly and rested his forehead against hers, lips brushing featherly over hers when he said:

"You took your time, didn't you?"

[backtothestart02]

Camera Shy - 1/? | westallen fanfiction {moved from Patreon}

A/N: I really love this premise. I hope you’ll like it too! :)

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Synopsis: AU - Iris is a model with a history of no good photographer exes. So when Barry Allen, her new photographer, wants to take her out, she immediately refuses - save some life-or-death situation. 

...

Chapter 1 -

The slow hum from the alarm clock suddenly became a full siren, jerking Iris West out of her deep sleep. She jumped up, sending her arm flying towards the sound, effectively throwing her phone, glasses, and jewelry from the day to the ground. She grumbled into the palm covering her face and pulled back the covers, shivering for just a moment before trying three times to get all the items back on the bedside table. When the task was successfully completed, she pushed her hair out of her face and headed for the bathroom, her over-sized t-shirt just barely skimming the top of her thighs.

The sight that greeted her in the mirror wasn’t particularly pleasant, but she knew after smiles, make-up, and fashionable clothes were applied, she’d be looking at a whole different woman.

“Smile, Iris. Today you’ll be posing for a photoshoot in STYLE magazine. After their scandal last month, they’ve hired a new photographer that is squeaky clean and with entirely honorable intentions,” she quoted the e-mail her best friend had shot her at two in the morning.

She’d wanted to call the landline that Wally insisted on having for God knows what reason. But that would startle Linda and wake up their two-month old son, so she resisted. Not everyone needed to suffer because she was about to.

Did she already dislike the new photographer she’d be working with? Yeah.

Did she have good cause? Yeah.

Of course, she hadn’t met him, but every photographer she’d worked with was the same.

Scumbags. Pigs. Lecherous, arrogant, and sometimes… Abusive.

She pushed that last adjective to the back of her mind. There was no point remembering that experience after she’d finally gone through enough therapy to get past it. Besides, that was over three years ago. Not every photographer was abusive, she’d allow that. Every single one of them was worthy of disliking, though. She’d take that to the bank.

The only possible difference was that a newbie might take the assignment seriously for once and act like a professional. She’d appreciate that, even if he was still the scum of the earth in his free time.

Showered, make-up applied, and a fashionable get-up on her curvy figure, Iris headed for the door just as a knock sounded on the other side of it. One peek through the peephole told her everything she needed to know. And despite her previous irritation, she smiled at the sight of Linda Park-West waiting for her in the hall.

“Hello, best friend,” Linda sang, extending her hand with the hot beverage Iris loved and shaking a small paper bag that undoubtedly contained a blueberry and lemon poppyseed muffin. “You’re welcome,” she said after Iris had locked up and they were walking with arms looped down the street.

“You’re forgiven,” Iris said.

“What I’d do wrong this time?” Linda asked innocently as a grin spread across her face.

Iris shot her a glare, and Linda burst out laughing.

“Relax. This one’s different, I promise. He’s a real good guy. Momma’s boy, good grades, total geek.”

“I’ve dated creepy geeks before, Lin.”

“I’m not saying you need to date him. Just give him the benefit of the doubt as a co-worker.”

“If he’s professional, I’m professional. You know that.”

“Uh-huh.”

Iris ignored the sarcasm, and they continued walking in silence. By the time they reached the tall glass doors of Central City Studios, breakfast had been consumed, lipstick had been reapplied, and smiles were back in place.

“Good morning, Ms. West, Mrs. West,” the older receptionist said at the desk. Both girls smiled and murmured a good morning in return. “Oh, Ms. West!” She rose from her seat to call after her. Iris and Linda both spun around, pointing to each other in mock confusion, since they’d told the older woman multiple times how she could call them by their first names. “Iris,” she caved, and Linda waved goodbye to her friend as Iris returned to the front desk.

“Yes, Frances?”

The woman bristled slightly.

“Mr. Stueck wants to see you in his office as soon as possible.”

Iris stilled. “Do you know what it’s about?” she asked softly, telling herself not to jump to conclusions. Maybe she was getting a raise!

Talk about conclusions.

“I don’t know,” Frances said, pulling Iris from her thoughts. “But he wasn’t angry, so keep that in mind, dear.”

Frances pushed her glasses further up her nose and went back to her work at the computer. The phone rang and she had to pick it up before Iris could say another word.

Iris pouted but did as she was told, wiping the expression off her face before she reached her boss’s office at the end of the hall. She heard laughter from inside, which was a rarity. Mr. Stueck wasn’t always serious, and he certainly wasn’t usually mean, but laidback wasn’t usually something that was part of his daily work demeanor.

The door swung open just as she was reaching out to knock on the wooden slate. She found herself standing face-to-face with an attractive, tall, young man. He might have been younger than her but was definitely not older, and he looked as stunned as she felt. It was an awkward moment of subtly gathering air before her boss interrupted them.

“Iris! Good, right on time.”

All smiles – which was even weirder – Mr. Stueck gripped the younger man and Iris’ arms and looked at them both, drawing nervous smiles to both their faces as they snuck glances at each other from the older man’s antics.

“Iris, I’d like you to meet Barry Allen. He’ll be your photographer for the STYLE shoot this week and next.”

Her heart stopped and her face fell. Those were two pieces of news she did not want to have heard.

“Two weeks?”

“Mhmm.” He nodded enthusiastically. “They were so impressed with your work in our last two shoots, they’ve decided they want you as their star model for all the clothing pieces, possibly jewelry as well.”

“I…see.”

She tried to be happy. She really did.

But being stuck with a photographer one-on-one every day for the possibly next two weeks?

“This could be your big break, Iris. And what’s good for you is good for us. I’m so proud of you.”

She forced a smile. “…Thanks.”

Mr. Stuek sighed contently, not catching her inner battle in the slightest.

But Barry did. She could feel him watching her, and disapprovingly watching her boss in return.

“Maybe you want until the end of the day to decide,” he suggested gently, making her meet his eyes.

“The end of the day!” Mr. Stuek laughed. “She doesn’t need time to-”

“Mr. Stuek, isn’t it part of your company policy to not force assignments on your employees if they feel uncomfortable doing them?”

He shifted slightly. “Well, yes, of course! But Iris can’t possibly feel-”

“So, to be sure, you’d want her to think on it all day and come to you with an answer before the end of her shift.”

His jaw dropped.

“Maybe just until lunch?” Iris offered up. “I can call you from STYLE Studios, since I’ll be shooting there today, at any rate.”

“B-B-But they can’t make you their star model today and then bring in someone else for the remainder of the line!”

Iris waited, unused to her boss’s intensity, but certain it would pass soon.

“Fine,” he said with a giant sigh. “Check in with Helen and Rachel, then head over to STYLE Studios with Barry here.”

She froze. “O-Oh, I don’t need to- I mean, I can-”

“Not one more word out of you, Ms. West,” he said, and she knew he meant business. He was a first name kind of guy, except in the rare circumstance that he was about to lose his temper – for real.

“Go. Both of you,” he said, and no more than a moment later they’d both been shoved out of his office into the hall and the door had slammed closed behind him.

Barry managed a slight chuckle after a moment and turned towards Iris, expecting a laugh from her as well. What he got was an unexpectedly cold glare.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she said, then walked with purpose in the direction of – presumably – Helen and Rachel.

He wondered if it would be very difficult to get her to go into the same car with him.

“I’m driving,” she said, snatching the keys out of his hand when they reached his car in the parking structure. His shock almost left him standing sans-car and sans-Iris in the cool parking area alone.

She sped out of the spot and out of the structure, down the road to STYLE Studios and Barry could only think one thing to himself.

 What a woman.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[rxsie-the-demon]

Brooklyn Baby | JJ Maybank

SERIES MASTERLIST | chapter one 

chapter summary: Nikki goes out of her comfort zone and bonds with Kie, while still remaining curious about what happened last summer. At a party, Topper gets a little too touchy, and Nikki (surprisingly) befriends Rafe and Wheezie.

warnings: drinking, smoking, HARD DRUGS, swearing (oops), HARRASSMENT (topper gets VERY touchy) so if that makes u uncomfy just skim over that, and a conversation about addiction/rehab and therapy

word count: 5029

Chapter 2: Cinnamon Girl

If I had to choose, B Days would be my least favorite. On B days, I have no classes with anyone I know, except English with Kelce at the end of the day.

And no one to sit with at lunch.

On my second day of school, when I realized I had no one to sit with, I ate in the library. You’re allowed to, so long as you clean up after yourself and stuff.

Walking into the huge cafeteria, with clean white titles and those long foldable school tables, I decided to do the same thing today; just sit in the library by myself, and maybe read or shop online, The tall walls of the cafeteria were decorated with motivational quotes and the school’s athletic accomplishments.

But when I was walking towards the lunch line, I saw Kiara sitting by herself out of the corner of my eye, head down on the table. Which made me feel really, really sad for her.

I stood in line quietly, AirPods in my ears, scrolling through Instagram when I found Kiara’s page. I didn’t want to seem like a stalker, but my curiosity got the best of me and I clicked on it.

Her page reminded me of this social activist that I follow that of a social activist I follow, the difference being that Kiara’s page was mostly environment-focused, with the occasional selfie and pics of her friends.

Clicking on one of her them, a selfie with her and her four friends on a boat during sunset, I saw a slightly sunburned brunet with his arm wrapped around one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. She’s probably a TikToker, I thought. Sunburn had a dark blue bandana wrapped around his neck and had his shirt unbuttoned. Major surfer boy vibes. 

Next to Tiktok, was Kiara, with bright eyes and a bright smile. Completely different from the girl who sits behind me in APUSH. The boy next to Kiara had dark skin and curly hair. He was wearing a hat, like Sunburn and the other boy next to him. And judging from the way his arm was around her waist, Hat totally had a thing for Kiara.

But the last boy, holy shit, if I thought Sunburn was cute, Hot Blonde Boy was another level. He was the one taking the picture, with one arm stretched out to hold the phone and the other one, covered shiny rings, was posing with, like, the rock hand sign? I think that’s what it’s called: with his index and pink fingers up, and the rest like they’d be balled in a fist. His messy blonde hair was being held together by a red snapback, and he was shirtless except for his shark tooth necklace. His tan went well with his bright, energetic eyes and big smile but...oh my gosh. His hands. They were big, with long fingers, and his arms were a little veiny and-

I put my phone away. Nuh-uh, I’m not going to be thirsting over a random guy’s hands, especially when that guy could literally be dead, or worse, the crazy dude who tried to shoot Topper.

Not that I don’t understand why someone would want to shoot Topper.

I grabbed my tray, putting a Chicken Caesar salad bowl (yum), a bowl of grapes (double yum), and a water bottle onto my tray. Remembering that Kiara didn’t have any food with her, I grabbed a hamburger, too.

I paid for my food and walked towards the utensil holder, debating whether or not I should just go to the library or sit with Kiara. I mean, I should sit with her, she’s by herself and is going through a hard time, but then again, I hardly know her. Besides exchanging numbers with her yesterday and not even texting her, I never interacted with the girl. She’ll probably think I’m just talking to her to get tea for Topper and Scarlet.

But then again, I already bought her a hamburger.

I walked over to her table. She was wearing a similar outfit as she was yesterday, the only difference being she was wearing light blue jeans. So, yay? A bit of color?

I sat down across from her and put my tray down quietly, not wanting to scare her. “Hey.”

Her head shot up immediately. Her soft brown eyes looked so tired, her light brown skin looking ashy and dull. Her dark brown hair, with it’s nice, defined beach wave curls, was tied back in a bun in her hood. When she saw who it was, her face softened. “Oh, hi.”

“I hope it’s ok I’m sitting with you, I don’t know anyone else in this lunch and I thought it’d be good to discuss our project.” I waved my hands around a bit before opening the plastic lid of my salad.

She nodded, eyeing my food for a second.

My heart hurt. Of course, she has the money to buy food, that’s not the issue. She probably hasn’t been eating out of grief.

“So I’m Indian, duh,” I waved my hand in front of my face and she smiled softly, “and I thought this was a chicken burger, but it’s beef. And I can’t eat beef, because, ya know, Hindus don’t eat beef. So, like, could you do me a solid and eat this for me? I hate wasting food and I’d feel awful if I threw it out.” I slid the burger towards her.

She nodded, pulling it towards her and taking a small bite.

I poured my croutons into my salad and started quietly eating when I heard Kiara mumble, “Thank you.”

I glanced up at her for a second, only to look back down. “Don’t thank me. I bought that on accident.”

“I saw you staring at me in line. And...I haven’t eaten in the past two days.”

I looked back at Kiara, who was looking everywhere but me. I decided to just ask.

“It’s because of what happened to your friends, right? You’re mourning?”

She nodded, still not looking at me.

“I understand. Grief isn’t something that has, like, a definitive answer. You just gotta let it run its course,” I said, putting my hand in front of my mouth because I was chewing.

Kiara nodded again and took another bite, a bigger one this time. I mentally high-fived myself for getting her to eat. I didn’t think it’d work.

“So, what do you want to do for the project?” I asked.

Kiara shrugged. “We could do current events. Maybe something environment related?”

“Like, an advertisement? We make a video talking about pollution or something?”

“Yeah! Or maybe we could organize something and get a bunch of people to come together and, like, clean up the beach?”

“Or we could go out on boats and find trash in the ocean?”

“That too!” Kiara’s eyes were shining now, and she was smiling. Wide. Much like the girl whose Instagram I was stalking.

“Sweet. Ok, so, the environment is one thing, do we have any other ideas? Like, isn’t the Outer Banks also famous for shipwrecks or something? I heard The Royal Merchant sank here. Maybe we could do a project on that?”

Kiara stiffened up when I mentioned shipwrecks. Did I say something wrong? 

Shit. Her friends died at sea, how could I be so stupid?

“That’s...not a bad idea, actually. I happen to know a lot about The Royal Merchant. More than I want to know, actually,” She chuckled. She looked down at her hands, and then looked back up. “John B, my friend who died at sea over the summer, he and his dad were obsessed with finding it. We actually-,” she leaned closer to me. “We actually found it. But, uh, the gold isn’t there.”

My eyes went wide. I leaned forward, too. “Well, where is the gold then? Do you know?”

Kiara nodded. “In the Bahamas.”

“How the f- How did it get there, if the shipwreck happened here and no one knew where it was until you and your Pogue friends found it?”

She sighed. “Long story. I’ll tell you another day.”

“Wait-”

The lunch bell rang. I sighed as we stood up and grabbed our bags, walking towards the doors to leave for class. I really want to know how the gold ended up in the Bahamas.

“Well, thanks for lunch, Nikki!”

“Of course, Kiara, that’s what friends are for,” I smiled.

Kiara beamed. “Call me Kie.”

I was overjoyed. A friend. A real, actual friend. “Kie. Fantastic. Hey, Kie, do you know anyone named Rafe by any chance?”

Kie narrowed her eyes. “Yea, why?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just invited to his birthday party this Saturday.”

Kie rolled her eyes. “Be careful around him, ok? Talk to you later!”

“Uh, bye!”

************************************************

Yellow, or blue?

I held both dresses up to myself, looking in the mirror.

Saturday came, and it was time for Rafe’s party.

The party starts at 9 and was gonna last all night, but Topper wanted to take me out to eat, so at 7:30, I’m still deciding which dress to wear.

Both dresses are sundresses, short, flowy with shirred backs and knotted straps. They are literally the same dress, down to the little polka dots, just in different colors. I could wear either one, because I kept my makeup simple: concealer, nude eye shadow, mascara, and clear lip gloss.

I texted Kiara, asking her to choose a color, to which she responded yellow. We managed to get really close in just three days, which made me happy, because I felt that she was my only real friend at school, and, well, I was her only friend there.

I slipped the dress on and matched it with my white Birkenstocks. I went over to my dresser table (yes I have two mirrors in my room, sue me) and put on my white tassel fringe earrings. I kept my ‘Om’ necklace on.

I admired myself. My light brown skin looks good with the yellow and white, and my jet black hair, which I decided to not straighten, had slight waves, and reached my shoulders. I look like a rich, beach girl. A Kook, I suppose.

I grabbed my phone, taking a quick mirror selfie and snapping it to Topper, captioned ‘i’m readyyy’. He opened it immediately.

‘Damnn u look hot,’ he typed out. Ew.

‘aw ty,’ I typed back. ‘where r u?’

‘I’m omw. U have ur bag? The party’s on a yacht and there’ll be a pool.’

‘swim suit’s packed’

‘Fantastic. I’ll be there soon.’

I locked my phone, putting it into my purple and black NYU drawstring bag that also held my black bikini and a towel. I grabbed the bag hopped down the stairs.

Mallory and Krish, my sister-in-law and brother, were sitting on the couch, watching TV. 

“Hey losers. My friend’s gonna be here any minute to pick me up.”

Mallory turned to face me, smiling. “Aw, you look cute! Have fun, and be safe, ok?”

“If you’re gonna be coming in, like, super late,” Krish added, not taking his eyes off the TV, “try to be as quiet as possible. Diya is a really light sleeper.”

Diya, my 5-month-old niece, made baby sounds. I took a couple steps forward and saw she was spread out on the floor, in her fluffy pink blanket, chewing on her gloved hands. I waved at her.

“Don’t worry, if I wake her up, I’ll take care of her. I don’t plan on drinking or smoking or anything tonight. Well, maybe drinking, but that’s it.”

They laughed. “Ok, ok, just have fun,” Mal said.

I sat on the floor, playing with Diya, until 7:50, when the doorbell rang, revealing Topper, wearing a black button-down shirt that was rolled up to his elbows (bless), Air Force 1s, ripped jeans, and a Gucci belt.

He smiled. “Ready to go?”

I smiled back. “Yep.” I turned to face Krish and Mal. “Bye Mom, bye Dad!”

“Bye, hun!” Mallory called out. They smiled and Top, too, and waved.

I closed the door and left, and Topper grabbed my hand to lead me to the car. “Sorry, I’d have introduced you to my parents, but they were too busy, like, ogling at my baby sister,” I half lied.

Topper laughed, “No worries. I’ll have plenty of chances to meet them, I hope?”

I smiled. “Yep, I hope so too.”

A complete lie.

******************************************

Dinner with Topper was...interesting. Instead of taking me to some fancy restaurant or whatever, he took me to this cute little diner closer to the beach, but not close to The Cut, according to him. “There are a bunch of restaurants here in the Banks,” he had said. “But not a lot of people know about this one. That’s why it’s my favorite.” He winked, and I nearly vomited in my mouth.

The place was real old-timey, with the little booths and a jukebox. We had burgers and shared a plate of fries and a milkshake. And honestly? It would’ve been really romantic if I actually liked Topper like that.

Don’t get me wrong, Topper is hot. He’s sweet to me, like cotton candy sweet, and really affectionate. I love touchy boys (consensual, of course, or they get their shit rocked), but he’s always grabbing my hand and playing with my hair. Which would be fine, but I barely know him.

And ever since he admitted to drowning that John B kid, whatever potential feelings I had just...disappeared. That paired with his Holier-than-thou attitude and his blatant classism makes him everything I would hate in a person, let alone a potential boyfriend.

Besides, I know the real reason he’s flirting with me. The Kook King of High School needs a Queen, and with his ex gone, everyone wants me to step into that role. Any other time, I’d be happy to be That Girl. But something just feels wrong about this.

Lots of people have told me I remind them of Sarah, apparently because she, too, was a bit of a social activist and an environmental freak (no wonder her and Kie were friends) which just confirms the fact that I’m just a replacement.

But, besides Kie, I have no other friends at OBX High. I have no choice but to go with it.

Driving close to the dock, I could hear loud music playing from somewhere. Leaning forward, I saw the yachts, one of them in particular already pretty full of people and neon lights.

“Yeah, Rafe tends to go all out on parties,” Topper remarked, gesturing towards the boats as he parked. “But they’re always fun.”

I nodded, plastering on a smile. I grabbed his hand. “Fantastic. Lead the way.”

**********************************************

Ok, I have to hand it to OBX kids. They know how to get turnt.

At 9:30, the yacht left the dock and headed towards the sea. By 10, the party was in full form, with kids dancing, singing, swimming, smoking, drinking, everything!

It was a glorious mess.

Right now it’s 10:30, and I’d been dancing with Top when we decided to go get something to drink.

We went to the bar and I told Topper to just one of whatever he was drinking for me, so he got two Mai Tais. The bartender looked really worried, because, you know, more than half the kids at this party are underaged, so I slipped him a 50 for his troubles.

Top and I walked away, laughing at the bartender’s confused face. The familiar feeling of alcohol started to wash

We walked around and talked about life and the universe, and when we finished our drinks, we went to the deck.

I leaned onto the railing, staring into the ocean.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked softly. Growing up in Brooklyn Heights, I was never one for the ocean. I mean, sure, there were beaches an hour or two away from my old home that I visited often, but I was always a city girl. But this, this was something else entirely. The way the pale, white moonlight shined on the dark blue ocean, it was comforting, almost.

“Yeah,” Topper whispered back, wrapping his arm around my cold body, “really is beautiful.” I turned and saw him staring at me, smiling just a tiny bit. I shoved him lightly.

“You’re so corny,” I laughed.

“Maybe, but I made you smile, didn���t I?”

“...Shut up.”

We laughed, and he wrapped both arms around me and pulled me close to him. I stiffened a bit. Calm down, Nikki. It’s not that big a deal. But it is. I hate leading people on and I hated that he was always touching me.

I snuck my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest. I’m short, I’ll admit it, standing at a towering five foot four with my two-inch platforms. Topper, on the other hand, is six feet tall, so my head tucked in just underneath his.

We stayed like that for a bit, swaying softly to some pop song. I felt myself relaxing, but I knew it wouldn’t last long.

“Hey, Nikki?”

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, I really like you.”

I pulled back and looked at Topper, who was fidgeting with my hair, and I narrowed my eyes “Wait, actually?”.

I hope he’s joking. He’s known me for less than a week! I mean, sure, you can have an instinct attraction to someone, yadda yadda, and maybe he wants to get to know me better, or whatever. Fine. 

Maybe it’s because I don’t like him that, but I find his declaration of feelings a little ridiculous.

“Yea, I do. I know we just met, but I really want to get to know you more. No, I’m not asking you out...unless you want to date, that is, but I feel insanely attracted to you.” He brushed his hair back nervously.

I could reject Topper, and risk my popularity and social standing. It could end up well, it could end up terribly. But if I say I like him back, which is a lie, I guarantee my place as the most popular girl in the Outer Banks.

I place my right hand on his shoulder and my left hand on his cheek. Standing on my toes, I gently guide his face to mine.

As I close my eyes, I imagine that I’m not about to kiss Topper, but Hot Blonde Boy from Kie’s Instagram.

His lips are soft, really soft, and Top’s hands drop to my waist to pull me closer to him.

After we pull away, he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and gently kisses my forehead.

“I like you too, Top,” I lied, “but I don’t want to rush into anything. We just met, and I’ve rushed into things before, and they never ended well, and-”

“Hey, hey, I get it,” he takes his hand to my chin and lifts it up so that I’m looking at him instead of the floor. “We can go as slow as you like, all right?”

I smile and nod. Top cups my face in his hands, and right before he can kiss me, I pull away and say, “Let’s go swimming! I’m going to go change, ok?”

He nods, ruffling his hair. I turn, pulling my phone out from my duffel bag and sending a text to Kie.

‘sos i just kissed topper.’

I walk into one of the changing rooms and change into my bikini. As I’m stuffing my dress into my bag, I see I get a text back.

‘dumbass!!’

**********************************************

Apparently, when I said I wanted to go swimming, it translated to yeeting me into the pool and then jumping in after, and then us splashing each other, non-stop. I mean, I guess that is what you do at a pool party, but I have no idea. Usually, I just stand around and eat food and, you know, don’t actually go into the water.

It was fun and all, yea, but I was uncomfortable the entire time because he couldn’t- no, wouldn’t- keep his hands off of me.

After it became too much, I jumped out of the pool and sat down on one of the chairs, wrapped my towel around myself and feeling really uncomfortable. Topper climbed out after me and sat down at my feet. “Did I, uh, do something?”

Yeah, you won’t stop touching me, bro.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just got a bit claustrophobic, that’s all.” I checked the time on my phone. I had an idea. “Hey, I’m going to go find Kelce and Scarlet, ok?”

“Uh, sure, do you want me to come with you?”

Not really, no. “Uh, if you want, but I was just gonna have, like, a girl’s talk with Scarlet?”

Topper nodded and smiled. I stood up, shoved my towel into my bag, slipped my shoes on, and ran off.

I felt a little weird just walking around in a bikini, especially since I don’t know anyone here, but remembering that everyone else was just as scantily clad as I was made me feel a little better.

I went to the highest deck, where the eldest kids (and by kids I mean like seniors and 20-year-olds), hoping to find Kelce or Scarlet there because I hadn’t seen them anywhere else. But I couldn’t see them on the deck.

I walked around a bit and then decided to text Scarlet.

‘where are you?’

I got a text back immediately. ‘Top deck, near the front. I’m with the little kid.’

Little kid? I walked towards the front side of the ship and indeed saw Scarlet, wearing a dark red colored bikini, sitting in a lounging chair with a girl who looks like she’s in middle school. The kid was pale, with freckles, dark hair, and glasses. She was the only one at this point not wearing a bathing suit.

Why is there a kid here?

I sat down in the seat next to Scarlet and gave her a hug. “Hey!” I slipped my bag off my shoulders and leaned forward to face the young girl. “Hi. What’s your name?”

She smiled. “I’m Wheezie. My brother’s the birthday boy.”

“Wheezie?”

“It’s a nickname, my real name is- Oh, hey, Topper!”

I spun around. Topper was standing in front of me, arms angrily crossed over his bare chest. “Hey, Wheezie. Nikki, can I talk to you?”

“I’m enjoying the company of my new friend.” I gestured over to Wheezie.

“Yeah, well, I want to talk.” He roughly grabbed my wrist and yanked me up.

“Ok, jeez, lemme grab my bag.” I pulled myself from his grasp and turned around to grab my bag. Scarlet mouthed the words be careful, to me. I nodded.

“Bye, Nikki, it was nice to meet you!” Wheezie called out. I shouted pleasantries back. Topper grabbed my wrist again.

After dragging me halfway across the deck, he let go of me and turned around. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?! You’re the one who, one, won’t stop touching even though we’re not dating and we barely know each other, and two, literally dragged me away from my friends when I was having a conversation with them! Are you like this with all the girls you like? Huh? Maybe that’s why your girlfriend left you for some Pogue, not because Pogues steal things, but because you-” I stepped forward and shoved Topper, “-don’t know how to treat a girl, no, a person, with respect!”

I stopped talking and realized that a lot of people had gone quiet. My face flushed with embarrassment until I heard someone shout.

“WOO! You tell him, Nikki!”

I turned and saw Scarlet and Wheezie jumping up and down and clapping. Soon, all the girls (and some of the boys) around me were clapping and cheering for me, congratulating me and telling Topper that he’s a dick.

I stepped towards Topper. “You and me, whatever thing you think we had going on, it’s done.”

I turned around and beckoned Wheezie and Scarlet to sit back down with me on the deck. The partying resumed, and I went off chatting with the two girls, but I saw out of the corner of my eye that Topper was getting all huffy and puffy.

I pointed that out to the girls. “Should I be worried?”

Wheezie wheezed laughed. “He’s probably just going to call Rafe and get him to tell you off.”

“...He’s gonna get the host of the party, who I don’t know and never met, to yell at me? Fantastic. Good thing he’s your brother.”

“Technically half brother, but yes, a good thing. Oh look, there he is right now!”

I turned around and saw Topper marching towards me with another equally tall, equally blonde boy right behind him. The difference is, this boy didn’t have as much of a hostile aura as Topper has right now.

“So, which one of you embarrassed my boy Top?”

************************************************

The boy, who introduced himself as Rafe, the host, beckoned Scarlet, Topper, and I inside of his suite. He closed the door on Wheezie, though. Bummer. I liked her.

Inside his suite were a bunch of twenty-year-olds, drinking hard liquor, dancing, and sitting around this big table. Rafe took his seat in the middle, told everyone else around him to fuck off, and had us, except Topper, sit across from him. Topper took the seat to his right.

He offered us a bag of white powder, to which Scarlet and I declined. Topper took it, though, and started setting it up to use.

“You use coke?” I asked Topper in disgust. I have nothing against most drugs, like weed or psychedelics, which can be fun to use sparingly at parties or whatever, but not hard drugs like opioids.

Topper shrugged at my question. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. What the fuck is wrong with y-?!”

“Ok, no fighting at my party, please?” Rafe sighed, rubbing his temples. “I brought you guys inside so that everyone else can enjoy the party while you guys have your little marital dispute-”

“WE’RE NOT DATING!” I shouted.

“Whatever,” Rafe sighed.

I stood up. “I’m gonna go hang with Wheezie. Scarlet, you coming?”

She was about to respond when Rafe stood up and said, “I’ll join you.”

I shot a confused look at Scarlet, who just shrugged.

I slipped my bag over my shoulder and walked towards the door, which Rafe held open for me, and we stepped outside, the air making me shiver.

Rafe pulled a pack of Dunhill cigarettes out of his pocket, put one to his mouth, and lights it. He gestured the box towards me and I take one, leaning forward a bit so that he could light it for me.

I rest my arms on the railing and close my eyes, breathing in the burning smoke and exhaling it slowly, being submerged in the light-headed haze of nicotine.

“How old are you?” Rafe’s voice interrupts my zen. I open my eyes and look at the boy, who’s very obviously checking out my bikini covered body.

I laughed and took another drag. “Sixteen,” I exhaled the smoke from my mouth.

Rafe’s eyes went wide, and he turned back to the sea. “Oh shit. My bad. Uh...how’re you liking the party?”

“It’s pretty good. Besides, you know, Topper being Topper, and you forcing me to talk to him.”

Rafe laughed. “Yea, I didn’t mean anything by it. I have a reputation of being a prick, and I’m trying to be better but, you know, not a lot of people respect you when you go from being a douche to a nice guy.”

I nodded, understanding what he meant by that. “Reputation with friends?”

He laughed. “Just,” he waved his hand free hand around, “Everyone. I wasn’t a good person. I’m trying to be better, but it’s hard when everyone already expects me to act a certain way and don’t give me a chance to change.”

I noticed the rings on his hands, like that boy from Kie’s Instagram. But unlike Hot Blondie, Rafe’s too old for me.

Which leads me to wonder…

“Did you know Sarah Cameron, by any chance?” I asked.

Rafe’s eyes went wide, and then he started coughing up smoke.

“W-Why do you ask?” He stammers, still coughing.

I gave him a weird look and just shrugged. “Curious, I guess.” I looked back at the ocean. “I’m the new girl, and everyone keeps telling me about all this stuff, but won’t tell me what actually happened, and I dunno, I’m just so confused.”

I turned to face Rafe, who was looking away, and I think I saw tears forming in his eyes. “Yea, Sarah’s my sister.”

Now it was my turn to cough up smoke. “W-”-cough cough- “Wait”-cough cough- “a minute.” I gasp for air and continue coughing. And after I finally manage to get some oxygen into my lungs, I say, “Sarah Cameron’s your sister? Shit, I’m so sorry, Topper never told me.”

Rafe shrugged, fiddling around with his rings. “It’s alright, I was just...surprised. No one asks me about Sarah or the Pogues anymore. After I came back from rehab-” He stopped, probably because he didn’t mean to say that, but he continued, “After I came back from rehab, I just...stopped beefing with the Pogues, especially JJ, Kie, and Pope. You know them?”

I nodded. “I know Kie, we’re friends. But not JJ and Pope. Never met ‘em, don’t even know what they look like, yet I’ve heard so many things about them.”

Rafe nodded. “They’re not bad kids, really. My time away made me realize how much of a prick I’ve been to them. Like, I caused them a lot of pain, and for what? For nothing. Literally just because I thought that, because they were poorer than us, they weren’t as good as us.”

I nodded. Then I turned and smiled, and stretched out my hand. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Rafe Cameron.”

He smiled and shook back.

_______________________________

chapter three

[adenei]

The Mixtape Mishap - Chapter 2

Christmas at the Burrow

Ginny woke up Christmas morning to a pile of gifts at the foot of her bed. She immediately began opening them. When she opened the gift from Hermione, she saw Hermione’s note saying she’d be there for New Years. “Yes!” Ginny said out loud. She examined the muggle music player and CD thingies that Hermione had given her. She’d have to ask Harry for help setting it up, and keep it away from her dad who would no doubt have a field day with it. 

Ginny was chuckling at the thought when she noticed the envelope she was meant to give Harry. She felt another envelope slip under the one for Harry. “Hmm..’RW Bad Blood’. She didn’t mention anything for Ron, but this must be for him..” Ginny shrugged and carried the two envelopes downstairs with her. Her mum was busy making breakfast.

“Good morning, dear!” she said cheerily. “Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas, Mum! Thank you for my gifts! Is no one else up yet?”Ginny asked.

“Just waiting on Ron and Harry. Breakfast is almost ready, so I’ll have you go up and get them if they aren’t down by then.” Ginny nodded as she went about helping to set the table. “Ginny, did Hermione ever tell you if she’s coming for New Years?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Yes! She’ll arrive on New Year's Eve via floo. Remember, Mum, we can’t tell Harry or Ron if she does come. She and Ron aren’t on good terms..” Ginny reminded her.

“Is it because of that girl he’s seeing?” Mrs. Weasley asked seriously. “I really always thought..oh, nevermind, he’ll come to his senses eventually.” 

“One can only hope,” Ginny muttered under her breath.

“What’s that there?” Mrs. Weasley asked, noticing the envelopes Ginny had set down.

“Oh, they’re for Harry and Ron,” Ginny said. “Want me to go get them?”

“Yes, I think it’s about time. Thank you, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Ginny grabbed the envelopes and brought them upstairs. When she got to the top landing she knocked on Ron’s door. “Breakfast is almost ready! Are you lot up yet? I have something for you,” Ginny called from outside the door. She could hear Harry laughing hysterically about something.

“Er, yeah, come in,” she heard Ron call.

Ginny opened the door to find Harry holding a box of maggots and Ron’s face redder than normal. “I’m not even going to ask,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

Harry nodded towards the box he’d just closed and said, “Kreacher,” as Ginny nodded in understanding. “Ron got the best gift from Lav Lav,” he said as he fell into a fit of laughter again.

“Oi! Sod off!” Ron said. “What do you want, Gin?” 

Ginny handed Harry and Ron the envelopes. “These ended up in my gift,” Ginny said.

“A CD?” said Harry. “How are we supposed to listen to these?”

“Hermione got me a walk-thingie to play them on. You’ll be able to help me figure it out, right Harry? She knows I like wizard rock so she got me some muggle rock music to listen to. I’m sure it’ll be great once I figure out how to use it.”

“Sure! I’ve used Dudley’s old ones before, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Her note says the music on mine is the same stuff you have, just not as much.” Harry was skimming her note.

Ron had been silent the whole time, staring at his envelope. “Are you sure this is for me?” 

Ginny shrugged, “It has your initials on it, so I assumed it was for you. If we get the music player working, you can use it to listen later if you want. We should probably get downstairs before Mum comes for us.”

* * *

That evening, Ron walked upstairs to his room while Harry and Ginny were figuring out Ginny’s gift from Hermione. He figured now would be a good time to examine his envelope from Hermione in private. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, so he wasn’t expecting anything from her. He was surprised that Ginny had handed him the envelope.

 Life was weird without her. Sure, snogging Lavender was fun, but after a couple of weeks, it was starting to feel more like a hassle spending time with her. Lavender just didn’t get that he needed to get his work done. He needed space, but she wanted to spend every waking moment with Ron. And now, with that horrid gift, Ron was realizing he barely knew anything about Lavender at all, or vice versa. What was worse, is that he wasn’t sure he wanted to learn more about her. He found himself missing Hermione more and more, but didn’t know how to make amends with her. 

Ron knew he’d agreed to go to that party with Hermione, but then the row with Ginny happened, and the jealousy resurfaced over Krum, and things slipped out of control from there. Fast forward to now, where he was in some sort of relationship with Lavender that he was starting to second guess. 

He opened the envelope and saw the piece of paper inside along with the, what’d Harry call it? A BD? Ron took out the paper, but left the disc until he could listen to it. He still wasn’t sure how you ‘listened’ to that. It made no sense to him. He unfolded the paper and read the top: ‘Attempt #36 to get over him’. What? Why would she send me this? Ron asked himself. Get over me? No, there’s no way Hermione actually fancies me. That would be too good to be true. He continued reading the paper that had her handwriting. 

The words kept jumping out at him and the theme was clear, even if the numbers and the underlines didn’t make sense. With the paper in hand, he bolted down the stairs. He needed to hear what the rest of those songs said. Now.

He entered the living area where Harry and Ginny were still listening. Ginny looked up and saw the look on his face and paused the device. “Everything okay, Ron?” Harry looked at him, too.

“Er, yeah. Listen, can I use the music thing? I really need to hear what’s on the BD.”

“CD?” Harry corrected.

“Ron, we’re listening right now, can it wait?” Ginny asked.

“Please, Gin? There’s only-” he looked down at the paper in his hand, “nine songs, I think. I promise you can have it right back. I just- I need to figure out what this means,” Ron gestured to the paper.

Harry and Ginny shared a look. “Um, I guess so. Did you leave the CD upstairs?”

“Yeah…” Ron answered.

“Alright, I’ll come with you and show you.”

When they got to his room, Ginny noticed the paper again. “What’d she write on that? Harry and I didn’t get anything like that.”

“I don’t know, that’s why I want to hear the music. It makes no sense.”

“Can I see it?” Ginny asked.

“Er, I guess” Ron said as he handed it to her.

As Ginny read through it, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. There was no way Hermione meant for this to be seen. Oh no, oh no, oh no… she thought. It’s too late now, I have to help him. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll come to his senses and do something about it, and then Hermione won’t kill me. I’ll just play dumb. Yes, that’ll work, right?

“So?” Ron interrupted her thoughts. “What do you think?”

“Well, I think you’re right about the numbers. That’s how many songs - see the 9 on the screen here? I’d guess the underlined words are the titles of the songs, and the quotes must be lyrics.”

“Right, thanks.” Ron said as Ginny walked him through the buttons. He really just had to press play. “I’ll bring this right back to you once I’m done, promise.”

Ginny got up to leave. She stopped when she got to the door and turned around. “Ron? Please don’t make this worse, okay?” She left before he could respond.

Ron began listening to each of the songs. The first few were sung by a male and the rest by a woman. It was clear in every song that the singer was singing about someone else that it sounded like they were in a relationship with. Or was, he wasn’t quite sure. It was becoming clear to him though, that the words Hermione had written had to do with how she felt. 

The gates had broken to the feelings he’d been trying to suppress for her, and he knew there was no hiding them anymore. He had to end things with Lavender. He couldn’t keep lying to himself, or to her. Ron brought the music player back downstairs and returned to his room. He pulled out parchment, and began writing a letter at his desk.

Lavender,

I hope you had a happy Christmas. Listen, I’m really sorry to be doing this now of all times, but I don’t think this is working out. I don’t want to lie to myself, or to you. The past few weeks have been fun, but I haven’t been interested for the right reasons. I’m sorry if I led you on. I’m also sending back the gift you got me, as I really don’t deserve it, especially now. I hope we can still be friends. 

Ron

Ron read and re-read the letter. He’d never broken up with a girl before. He knew doing it through a letter was shitty, but he didn’t want to wait until he got back to school. He had to focus on making up with Hermione, and he couldn’t do that while Lavender was still in the picture. Ron repackaged the necklace Lavender had gotten him. He handed the letter and package to Pig. 

“Bring this straight to Lavender Brown, okay? I’ll give you extra owl treats when you get back.” He watched Pig fly out into the night. Hope she doesn’t send me a howler, Ron thought, as he flopped back down on his bed, rereading the paper from Hermione.

[insfiringyou]

BTS - A late night discussion in bed with RM

Contains: Fluff. Pillow talk. Domestic life. Career talk. Reading in bed.

Although this can be read and enjoyed by itself, we imagine the reader here to be Ji-eun, Namjoon’s headcanon girlfriend. This is set around one year into their relationship. 

Find out more about our headcanon universe, plot and characters here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin/   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & Our full masterlist can be found here

Content below cut

“What are you reading?” Namjoon finished unbuttoning his shirt and discarded it neatly on the wicker chair in the corner of the room along with his trousers. He kept his boxer shorts on as he pulled back the duvet and climbed into his side. You had gone to bed an hour before, leaving him in your living room to work on his laptop. He had been spending the majority of time at your apartment instead of his own, and you suspected you would soon have to upgrade to a bigger place where there would be room for a home studio. In the meantime, Namjoon seemed content to work on a smaller scale, doing what he could while away from the complex he still shared part-time with the others. 

You turned the book you were clutching over to read the cover. The title was long and dry sounding. 

“An Introduction to International Criminal Law and Procedure” you read out, the text illuminated by the small lamp on your bedside table, as Namjoon reached for the matching cabinet on his side to pick up a thin paperback. You returned to your chapter, around halfway through the 620 pages. 

“Oh.” He switched on his lamp, twin to your own. “Are you bored of Civil Law?”

You shrugged. “I was thinking of doing my PhD.” 

“You should.”

A comfortable silence fell over you as he found his place in the book and reached into the draw beside him to fetch his reading glasses. Despite the narrowness of the book, he had been working his way through it for the past two nights. 

“Didn’t they have it in Korean?” You asked. 

He twisted the book to peer at the busy cover; a 19th century painting depicting a drunken gathering of half-clothed revellers adorned the front. The man in the centre wore a laurel wreath on his head. 

“It reads better in English.” He explained softly. “And I don’t speak Greek.” 

You realised why it was taking him so long to get through, with him having to translate the already difficult language in his head. 

“The Symposium…” You repeated the title slowly, testing the foreign letters on your tongue, holding the little book open with one hand. “What is it about?”

“Love.” He answered in English and you couldn’t help but smile at the softness of his voice. 

“Oh?” You placed your own weighty book onto the bedsheets over your lap and took his spare hand in yours, slipping your fingers through his and resting them on the thick quilt. It was a cold night and the weight of his warm body next to you gave you comfort. 

He nodded and gave your hand a little squeeze. “The nature of love.” He switched back to Korean. “The characters are discussing what the true meaning of love is.”

You smirked but was feeling surprisingly soft nonetheless. The plot sounded familiar and you were sure you had seen him reading it before. “There’s a right and wrong answer?” You asked, a little sarcastically. 

He laughed gently in reply. “Plato seemed to think so.” He let go of your hand, giving it one final pet before moving it to flick through the pages. “This is my favourite part…although it’s not considered the correct theory…” He was silent as he found his place, turning the top corner of the page over. “Here…” He cleared his voice a little. “Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts.”

“Sounds gruesome…” You joked, your mind filling with the image of a four legged, two headed beast. 

“The idea…” Namjoon explained, looking away from the text. “Was they would be condemned to spend their life searching for their missing half.”

Your chest suddenly ached with emotion as you peered at your boyfriend, the bedside lamp reflected in his glasses, obscuring them from view. Feeling bashful, you tried to lighten the mood. “What did Mrs Plato think of this theory?” You joked. 

“He liked men.” Namjoon explained indifferently. 

“Oh.” 

“I don’t know if he ever met his other half.” He turned back to the pages and you felt your heart rate increase, knowing there was more. Despite not having finished your chapter, you were overwhelmed with the desire to have him hold you close while he read. His deep voice was reassuring and incredibly tender and you sensed, without having read the book yourself, there was a reason why this was his favourite part. You placed your book on the table beside you and snuggled into your boyfriend’s chest. His spare arm immediately moved to your torso, holding you close to him as he continued. “And so…” His read slowly, his voice a little delayed as he translated the text. “When a person meets the half that is his very own, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, then something wonderful happens: the two are struck from their senses by love, by a sense of belonging to one another, and by desire, and they don’t want to be separated from one another, not even for a moment.” 

His words seemed to stir something in you, a deep and slightly melancholy feeling as you realised he had perfectly quoted how you felt in this very moment. The wind howled wildly outside, sounding eerily similar to the cries of a woman in the night as it battled against the windowpanes. Your body was warm beneath the thick duvet with Namjoon and you never wanted to leave. You had to be up for work in less than six hours but, right now, you wished you could stay like this, safe in his arms, forever. Your cheeks reddened against his bare skin as you inhaled his pleasant, musky scent. “And is that how you feel?” You asked. 

He nodded, kissing your ear gently. “Do you?” 

You skimmed your palm along his chest and stomach slowly, lovingly. “Yes.” 

***

Thanks for reading. 

Read all of RM and the other members’ headcanon fics to date here:

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[animeniacss]

6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 21 - What Have you Been Saying?

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy) 

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 5.3k words 

Disclaimer: This chapter contains subjects of violence, such as physical and verbal abuse. Please do not read this chapter of the story if these topics are triggering to you. Stay safe and healthy, and know that I and many others are here for you!

Chapter 21 - What Have you Been Saying? 

           The walk through the halls wasn’t long, but it sure felt it with how silent everyone was on the walk. A few students were seen straggling in the halls, only for Mrs. Song to encourage them to hurry and head home. As the walk finally came to an end, Mrs. Song turned to you.

           “Right in here, please.” She said happily, opening the door. Weong-Bin was quick to slide over, holding the door open for her. Mrs. Song offered a kind smile, and a thank you, while you simply turned up your nose and walked inside. It looked like a teacher’s office, sectioned off for more than one teacher to occupy at a time. There only seemed to be a few other teachers’ inside at the moment, scattered through the room and doing some various forms of paperwork. Mrs. Song led you to what seemed to be her spot, where three chairs were awaiting you. As the three of you sat, Mrs. Song let out a deep sigh. “Well, let me just start by saying Min Ja is an absolute joy in class. She’s very, very helpful and incredibly smart.”

           “Thank you.” You said softly.

           “I don’t want any of you to get the wrong idea, I didn’t call you in here because I wanted to discuss negative behavior. Min Ja is one of our better-behaved students. I wanted to bring you in because I’m starting to get concerned with some things.”

           “…Such as?”

           “Well…” she sighed. “Min Ja seems to be struggling with making connections with the other kids in class. She’s sociable, and she gets along with most of the kids, but there are a lot of elements that cause her to withdraw from her peers.” When she saw both you and Weong-Bin share a glance, she hummed. “Min Ja is the only child in class whose parents are divorced.” She said simply. “All the other students live with both of their parents. We only have one student whose father passed away, but his mother remarried when the child was barely one, so he identifies that man as his father. Min Ja is the only one who is in a familial situation such as yours.” She saw your face flush, eyes quickly cast down onto your lap in embarrassment, even slight shame. Mrs. Song quickly noticed. “I’m not trying to judge you for what has happened, I don’t know the whole story and I’m merely trying to share statistics with you. Please, forgive me.”

           “Don’t worry about it.” Weong-Bin said simply. Mrs. Song sighed.

           “Anyway, I have tried to do different things in class to teach about different family lives, and maybe allow Min Ja to share her stories with the class. I thought that might help her talk out her own anxieties as well and start to help her. She wouldn’t participate in any of them, she just kept her head down. I talked about single-parent homes and San-Ha actually, bless her soul, called out that Min Ja only lived with her Mom, but saw her Dad a few days a week. When I asked her to share, she burst into tears.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “When I asked her why, she said she couldn’t talk about it to me, because she needed her Dad to trust her.” Your heart began to race.

           “I…see…” you said softly.

           “As you know, I try to encourage the kids to share their emotions and feelings through drawings, especially because they’re still learning how to write and they can express their emotions clearer when they draw it out, they’ve been drawing since they could hold stuff.” Reaching over, she grabbed a small stack of papers from her desk. “When I see children acting unusually anxious, or scared, or sad, or any other negative emotion and they can’t or won’t verbally share it, I try and ask them to draw it out for me.” She handed you and Weong-Bin about 3 papers. You rolled them open and took a look at them. As you skim through, the pictures were concerning. There was a copy of the family portrait she had done for a homework assignment. Another was of what looked like Min Ja, standing with scribbles all around her. There was almost no color in this picture, just black. The only color came from her attempt at coloring her school uniform in with a blue crayon.            

“Did she tell you what this one was?” you asked curiously, pointing to it.

“She drew that one yesterday. I had noticed she wasn’t playing with any of the other kids so during one of the breaks I asked her what was wrong. She drew this and said, and I quote, ‘Daddy is making my head spin. But I can’t tell you why.’” Your eyes darted to Weong-Bin, who ran a hand through his hair. He looked a bit worried by this, but you couldn’t tell if he was putting on the act of a concerned parent, or if he was genuinely worried. “At first I wasn’t sure what she might be talking about, then I saw this-.” She moved the picture over to expose the second to the last one. It was a picture of a house, a big house, with tons of rooms. Everyone seemed to have a room, her, Hyo Bin, you, Weong-Bin, and Hoseok. Everyone was smiling, and despite the bright colors and cute little rainbow and flowers, the picture emitted an air of desperation. “I pulled it out of her portfolio of drawings. When I asked her about it, she said that she wanted to try and build a house that everyone could live in together and be happy. When I asked why, she said that in the house she lived in now, she could only live with Mr. Hobi or her Dad.”

“Oh my God…” all of it began to make sense. Min Ja’s drawings were telling you what Weong-Bin would not, they were telling you how much she was really hurting and how anxious she was. They were telling you why Min Ja had that absolute break down when she thought Hoseok was going to move in.

“Then, I saw her doodling this one during our lunch period.” She pulled out the last picture. The one on the bottom was of two stick figures, both with slanted eyes and frowns on their faces. There were scribbles all around them, possibly indicating yelling. The one stick figure in a pink dress, most likely you, had blue crayon marks near her eyes. There was also a big red ‘X’ over the picture. You blinked, glancing at Weong-Bin, who seemed to have no reaction this time. “When I asked her what she was drawing, she almost yelled at me and said she wasn’t finished, then hid it away.”

“I’m so sorry about that.” You sighed. She shook her head and offered a smile.

“When she finished the picture, she brought it to me.” She flipped the picture to show the backside, where Min Ja had put another drawing. It was of two stick figures, but instead of arguing, they were hugging. The male stick figure seemed to have hints of blonde in its hair, and you quickly recognized that it was meant to be Hoseok. “I asked her what this meant, and she wouldn’t really say. But I kind of got an idea. So, I asked her if this was you both at home.” She pointed to the first picture with the arguing. “And that this was Mr. Hobi and you.” She pointed to the second picture. “But then, she said that she added the ‘X’ because you both don’t fight anymore. That her Daddy had fixed his mistakes.” You blinked, gripping the picture tightly as you tried your best not to start crying. All you could do was nod, running a hand through your hair.

“I can’t believe this…she told you all this through pictures. How long has this been going on?”

“I started noticing the withdrawal about a week and a half ago. The first picture she made was this two-sided one. That was when I tried to get more out of her, leading to the rest of the pictures. That, on top of the inability to relate with her peers when it comes to family relationships, started to worry me.”

“What do you mean ‘inability to relate to peers about family relationships?’” Weong-Bin asked, and you could hear the irritation in his voice. Mrs. Song blinked.

“Like I said, Min Ja is the only girl in class who lives with divorced parents. When we talk about family, she can’t relate when the other students talk about what they did with both of their parents. She doesn’t participate in those conversations. When I call on her to give me an answer, if she doesn’t force herself to give me an answer, she’ll become flustered and burst into tears. I’m simply trying to show the relationship between that behavior and her drawings, there’s a connection here.”

“So, what are you trying to say here? I don’t love my kids? This is painting me in a bad light. I love my girls to death, how dare you-.”

“I’m not saying that, Mr. Cho-.”

“Weong-Bin!” You said quickly, looking at him. “How dare you, she only is trying to help us.” Weong-Bin looked away, grabbing the pictures and standing up.

“I’m not going to sit here and be railroaded about my parenting.” He said, storming out of the room. He slammed the door, alerting the attention of the teachers in the room. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You were amazed that Weong-Bin, who was always sure to keep up appearances, had shouted and left the room like a child. Was he finally cracking? Was this what would send him over the edge?

“I’m so sorry.” You said softly. “He’s normally not like that in situations like this.” Mrs. Song gave you a sympathetic look, reaching out and putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I apologize, I must have said too much.”

“No, of course not.” You said. “I appreciate your help. I didn’t even know she was feeling this. I’ve noticed she’s been upset and anxious but every time that I tried to talk to her about it, she would freak out and avoid it. She had a meltdown the other day when she overheard my boyfriend and I talking about moving in together. This must be why…” you sighed. “I had him talk to her about this, I didn’t know he was the one making this so bad.”

“Your boyfriend, how does he get along with Min Ja, if I may ask.” She asked curiously.

“They have a great relationship. But ever since this whole thing started, she’s seemed a bit more distant from him. She doesn’t seem her usual lively self when he’s around anymore. What do you suggest that I do?”

“I’m not a therapist, only a teacher. But I assure you that I will help you in any way I can to make sure that Min Ja’s anxiety will lessen while she is in school.”

“Thank you so much. We’ll be in touch.” You shook her hand and stood up, fixing your bag. Mrs. Song smiled, reaching over to her desk and grabbing one more picture. She offered it to you.

“I meant to show this to you as well to show that Min Ja isn’t only just drawing depressing pictures.” When you took the picture, you opened it to see a brightly scribbled picture of what looked to be a zoo. There were four stick figures, three in dresses and one in pants with black hair and a heart mouth. There were red pandas, alpacas, bears, and other animals you couldn’t really identify based on her little kid scribbles, but you knew exactly what you were looking at and it made your heart soar. “It’s one of the first pictures she drew for me this year. I know things are probably getting a bit hectic, but I think your daughter is very fond of your boyfriend.”

“Heh, thanks.” You offered a nod of your head. “Have a good day, Mrs. Song.” She got up and bowed a bit as well, waving you off as you exited the room, closing the door behind you.

You found Weong-Bin outside the school, pacing and grumbling under his breath. You approached him and crossed your arms.

“What are you, six years old? How could you walk out on that conversation?”

“She was judging my parenting. She was all ‘Dad this, Dad that.’ She didn’t say anything about your shortcoming once!”

“My short-.” You sighed. “Weong-Bin this isn’t the time to put yourself on an ego boost. This is about Min Ja, what have you been telling her that’s making her so anxious?”

“Me!? What do you mean me?”

“Well, you said you talked to her and ever since then she’s been worse than before. What did you say to her?!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” He hissed under his breath, putting his face close to yours. You stepped back, crossing your arms. “I won’t continue yelling outside the school.”

“I agree.” You said softly, nodding your head. Both of you were silent for a moment, and you sighed softly. “Can you…stop by after I get Min Ja to dance?” Weong-Bin nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure too.” He said. You could feel your heartbeat begin to speed up, and you quickly attempted to collect yourself.

“Then I’ll go then.” You said simply. Weong-Bin nodded, grumbling under his breath as he walked down the street and to his car. You watched him for a moment, sighing as you headed to the playground down the street. As the playground came into view, you saw Hoseok pushing Hyo Bin on one of the swings, and you could hear she cheered in delight as she flew through the air. Hoseok was smiling as he pushed her, looking over to Min Ja, who was trying to keep herself flying all on her own. He was encouraging her to pump her legs, and occasionally walking over to give her a big push as well. It helped slow your heart rate to see your girls, and you hurried over to the swing set, catching their attention.

“Oh, look who it is.” Hoseok said, motioning in your direction. Min Ja looked up, and nerves washed over her like the biggest and most powerful wave at the beach. She jumped off the swing and ran into the playground structure, hiding underneath one of the bridges. You blinked, glancing at Hoseok, who looked just as confused by the child’s sudden bolt, but he couldn’t help but smile.

“How did it go?” he asked curiously.

“It went alright. Min Ja’s teacher told us a bunch of stuff…put a lot of things into perspective.”

“How did Weong-Bin take it?”

“Not well. He’s meeting up at my house after I take the girls to dance so we can talk…” Hoseok looked a bit worried, rightfully so at the idea of you and Weong-Bin being alone, and you noticed that. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Remember how he grabbed your face? And that was when the girls were in the house. What do you think will happen if it’s only the two of you?” You sighed softly, running your hands through your hair. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I…” you sighed. “You’re right.” You admitted. “But I already told him to meet me at my house. He’ll be angrier if I don’t show up.” Hoseok still didn’t look convinced. “…Don’t look at me that way…” you said softly.

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m a bit uncomfortable with you being home alone talking to your ex-husband who just happens to put his hands on you when he isn’t happy.” You could see that he was now getting a bit frustrated, and you bit your lip. Hoseok stopped the swing that Hyo Bin was on and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” you said. “Don’t apologize, you have every right to be upset with me.” You said simply. “I just…I was trying to trust him with this. I know he loves those girls, I never thought he would do anything to hurt them. But her teacher said that a lot of what Min Ja is getting anxious over is based on what Weong-Bin has said to her.” Hoseok nodded. “And I think I knew that deep down but I was in such denial that he would go so far as to manipulating Min Ja-.” your voice cracked, emotions overwhelming you as those words left your mouth. “I need to know why; I need to hear him tell me what the hell is going through his mind right now.” Hoseok nodded. “So, I’ll be dropping Min Ja off, and hopefully is So-Hee is there, she’ll hold onto Hyo Bin for me. I don’t want either of them there.”

“Okay.” He said, finally lifting Hyo Bin from the swing. “Then let’s head home and get ready.” You nodded, turning around to see Min Ja walking over to you from her hiding place.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” She asked softly.

“No, sweetie.” You assured, taking her hands. “Let’s go home and get ready for dance class, okay?” Min Ja nodded and smiled a bit.

When you had gotten the girls home, Hoseok left early to prepare for his classes. You had gotten the girls ready, putting Min Ja in her cute little ballet outfit and tutu, and put Hyo Bin in a little casual tee shirt and pants that were not covered in playground woodchips. You kept thinking about how upset Hoseok was at the idea that you and Weong-Bin would be alone, and you knew he was right.

Why do I always give him second chances? You thought to yourself as you stood in front of the microwave, heating up some leftovers for the girls to eat quickly. I feel like I know exactly what is going to happen tonight, and yet I’m still doing it. I’m so stupid.

The sound of the microwave beeping pulled you from your thoughts and made you get back on track to get your children to dance on time. You dropped Min Ja off in her class, and after staying to talk to So-Hee and a few of the other mother’s you had begun to befriend, you checked the time. Weong-Bin would be arriving at your house soon, and you needed to hurry up getting home. Luckily, So-Hee offered to hold Hyo Bin for the duration of the lesson, but in return, you had to call her when the conversation was over. Before you headed out, you stopped in Hoseok’s studio. Peeking in, you saw he was training up a group of teenagers, the faint sound of hip-hop and shoes squeaking against the tiles coming from behind the closed door. You didn’t want to interrupt him, by the grin on his face as he led the group, he was busy and he was having fun. So, you fixed your bag and headed out of the studio.

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

When you got home, Weong-Bin was waiting by the door. He was on the phone with someone, pacing back and forth in front of your door as he waited for you. When he saw you, his pacing came to a stop.

“I’ll call you back.” He said to whoever he was talking to, before hanging up and stuffing his phone in his pocket. “I’ve been here for like 10 minutes waiting for you.”

“Well sorry, but I had to walk here from the dance studio that, shockingly, is a 10-minute walk.” You walked past him, unlocking the door to the apartment. Before stepping in, you turned to him. “Here’s the deal.” You said quickly. “I just want to talk. If you try to start anything or get too crazy, I will scream at the top of my lungs.” Weong-Bin chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever.” He said. You hesitated for a moment, and Weong-Bin frowned. “Open the fucking door and let’s get this over with!” He said. Instinctively, you flung the door open and stepped inside, Weong-Bin following behind you. “Now…” he closed the door behind him and took off his shoes. “Let’s talk.” You walked into the living room, taking a deep breath.

“What have you been telling Min Ja?” you asked curiously, turning to him. “And don’t lie to me. Those pictures prove that you told her something that is making her anxious, and is making her distant from Hoseok.”

“I’m not telling her anything that isn’t true.” He said simply.

“Then why do all these pictures tell a different story? Why does Mrs. Song say anytime she talks about her feelings it’s about you?”

“Oh please, that lady is a total crackpot liar.” He scoffed. “She’s either exaggerating or flat out lying, and I won’t stand for it.”

“Oh please, don’t try and play the victim to me. Now, what the hell have you been telling Min Ja?” Weong-Bin didn’t answer. “Weong-Bin!”

“Do not raise your voice at me!” He snapped angrily. “Do you understand?!” You stepped back, and Weong-Bin stopped. “…All I told her was that I missed her and wanted to see her every day. She said she wanted the same thing. I wasn’t lying.”

“…Why the fuck would you tell her that?!” You shouted. “What, did you think that if Min Ja wanted you to move back in I would just drop everything and do it? Are you out of your mind!? You’re manipulating a five-year-old girl into an anxiety disorder so you can get what you want?!”

“I’m not manipulating anyone.” He said simply. “She wants me to move back in. She wants us to be a family again. But I told her if Hoseok is here, then I can’t. Tell me where the lie is, there’s no lie. It’s just facts. Maybe she’s upset because she rather has me living here than Hoseok.” You blinked, staring at him for a moment in total surprise. “What? You asked me to talk to her about it, and I did. I told her if she wanted me to move in, then Hoseok couldn’t live with you.”

“I did not ask you to talk to her about having to choose between you or Hoseok!” you said simply.

“Well, you did. So congrats, you fucked your daughter up.”

“Me?!” You snapped. “How dare you! I’ve been trying endlessly to make her feel comfortable, to make her happy and calm and try to help her however I could! I thought I could trust you to be on my side for this. I know you don’t like Hoseok, and quite frankly I don’t care, but how could you pull your daughter into this for your own selfish gain? What did you want to get out of this?!”

“I said stop yelling at me.” He said simply, putting his hands in his pockets.

“No! The one time I try to work on this together, for the betterment of our daughter and you feed her lies! How could you ever make her pick between the two of you? She cares about Hoseok and you so much, she didn’t have any problems with him….” You felt your eyes water. “But just because you couldn’t get what you wanted you had to hurt her so bad…And I thought you loved those girls.”

“I do!” He snapped, storming up to you and closing any distance between you. “Don’t you ever say I don’t love those girls. I love them more than anything on this planet.”

“Then why couldn’t you just accept that Hoseok makes them happy and move on?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“Because he’s not their father, I am. I’m the one who is supposed to be in their lives, not him. If he wants his own family, he can go ahead and find his own, he doesn’t need to take what’s mine away from me.”

“We aren’t yours! We are not your property! You need to stop telling yourself that we are! Besides, I divorced you long before I even knew Hoseok was coming back into the area, and I knew even then I had no intention of ever getting back together with you!” Weong-Bin finally stepped back, and you could see the anger behind his eyes. “…I can’t believe I tried to trust you. I can’t believe that I told myself you would never do anything to hurt your kids.”

“I wouldn’t,” he said simply. “…This is all your fault, you know.”

“M-my fault?” you asked softly. “What do you mean?” Weong-Bin couldn’t help but scoff.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean.” He said. “If you had not-.” he stopped, covering his mouth as he tried to think of what to say. “If you hadn’t fucked up…when Min Ja was little when we were trying to-.” He stopped again. “If you didn’t fuck up then, this never would have happened.” It took you a moment to think about what he was saying, what memory he could possibly be thinking about. Then, you realized. It was the moment that pinpointed exactly when the marriage began to fell apart. And you couldn’t believe he even brought it up.

“…That…that wasn’t my fault.” You choked out. “That wasn’t my fault, and you know it!”

“Well, it wasn’t mine! I wasn’t the one that was pregnant!” You covered your mouth. “Everything changed because you fucked up!”

“Oh my god, how could blame me? Do you think I wanted things to turn out this way?!”

“I said…” he turned back to you. “To stop shouting at me.” You took a deep breath and he scoffed. “What? Are you going to scream?”

“Only if you keep threatening me.” You said simply, wiping your eyes. “Please, just stop. We’re not talking about anything except for what you said to Min Ja. How you made you think that my relationship was bad and that you should move back in. She had a meltdown when she overheard me and Hoseok talking about moving in together.”

“Well, maybe she doesn’t want that to happen.” He said simply. “She’s a smart girl.”

“She is…” You said softly. “She’s so smart, even smarter than me. That’s why it kills me that she’s still a little five-year-old, who loves her father enough to the point that she trusts him wholeheartedly.” You turned your body away from him and shook your head. “I hope when she gets older, she views you for the monster you truly are.” Weong-Bin frowned, walking over to you. She walked over, grabbing your wrist and spinning you around to face him. Right as your eyes fell onto him, the blurry vision of something lifted up, and the next thing you knew, your cheek was throbbing. You stumbled back a bit, holding your cheek as you looked up at him, seeing his hand raised in his air, and somewhat shaking. The anger in his eyes had returned, and he was furious. “Weong-Bin, please-.”

“I’m sick and tired of your shit.” He hissed. “This is what you get when you piss me the fuck off.”  You stepped back some more, but he pulled you close to him again, and he reached his hand up to tug at your hair. “You’re conspiring against me, aren’t you? If anyone is manipulating Min Ja here, it’s you. Telling her all these awful things about me, making me look like the criminal when all I wanted to do was be a good father!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have anything to say if you didn’t do stuff like this!” You shouted. “Let go of me! You’re hurting me!”

“I’m hurting you? You’re hurting me! It kills me every time I have to sit and see that…that prick with my daughters, with my wife! It kills me, and you don’t even care because you’re selfish!” Once again, he slapped you, before slamming you up against the wall. You felt your body bounce off the wall, shaking as you sank down to the floor, looking up at Weong-Bin. In the entirety of your marriage, Weong-Bin’s abuse was emotional. He would worm his way into your head, feeding you lies and false information to get you thinking in a way that would only benefit him. It was a tactic that left no visible scars. Everyone always told you he could escalate to physical abuse, but you refused to believe them. When it finally did, you refused to acknowledge it. You angrily defended him for as long as you could, even after the divorce, even after you witnessed his escalation yourself.

“You need to leave!” You snapped. “Now, or I’ll call the police!”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me!” Your cheeks were still throbbing. “I can’t believe I still try to trust you enough. I only do it because you’re the girl’s father, or else I would never want to talk to you again!”

“No, you do it because you’re still head over heels in love with me, you little slut.”

“What?!”

“That’s right! You want me back so badly, it kills you! But you’ll never admit it because you like seeing boys fight over you.”

“You’re absolutely insane!” You said.

“Shut up!” He snapped, grabbing a little plant on the coffee table and flinging it against the wall, just barely missing you and shattering at your side. One of the pieces of glass grazes your leg, and you felt the sting wash over you. “Just shut up, you bitch!” As you quickly got to your feet, Weong-Bin was quick to slam you back into the wall to stop you from moving. “Don’t fucking move!” He ordered.

“You need to leave, now!” Your ears were ringing, and you were almost positive that someone had called the police due to all the noise, and if they did, you were hoping they would be at the house soon because you didn’t know if Weong-Bin was going to continue, or take your advice and leave. Finally, Weong-Bin scoffed. He walked over to where you, and yanked you up to your feet. Just as you tried to get your balance, he slammed his hand against the wall.  “Stop.” You said quickly.

“Why? You’re not doing anything to stop me. Have you finally come to realize that you’re absolutely nothing without me? Are you going to apologize for what you’ve done to our daughter?”

“Please, stop.” You begged again.

“You know how much I hated this. I’m just as upset as you. But you need to finally fucking learn what happens when you talk to me that way when you try with all your might to destroy my family.” You were silent for a moment, and he slammed his hands against the wall again, making you shriek and shake in shock. “Well?! Answer me!”

“Someone’s going to call the cops.”

“So what? You’re not going to say anything. You never do~.” He smirked a devilish smirk that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you tomorrow night to pick up the girls~.” He cooed. You blinked, watching him walk out the door. He slammed it shut, the sound making you flinch.

The apartment was now silent, and you finally walked back out into the living room. Looking around, you saw the flower pot that Weong-Bin had shattered against the wall. A hand raised and touched your cheek, and you felt your body was shaking. As you walked to the couch, your body collapsed onto it and you rolled over on your side, hiding your cheek that was still throbbing as you covered your face.

Hopefully, when you woke up, this would all just be a bad dream. Or at least, that your body would finally stop hurting.

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[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ Patreon Commentary Catchup 2020-03-29

I know I’ve been sitting on half-a-dozen asks, but I’m gonna sit on those a little longer because after I’m done catching up on ALL the commentary I’ve missed I’ll probably be a little exhausted.

First the commentary on Chapter 5: YOUR 3Y3S H4V3 B33N CLOS3D.  I skimmed this before, just so I could leave a comment about what I’d been told about the suicide feeling / Jaspers funeral when she was “eight” being way too late on the timeline.  They still haven’t made any corrections to that HS^2 page.  Hm.  Are they just feeling the general vibe and tags to help the fandom guide things?  I’m wondering if anyone came to any of them specifically with that, since Patreon commentary doesn’t seem to cut it.  (Which I might be grateful for, from another point of view, because why would they favor paid methods.)

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 5, "YOUR 3Y3S H4V3 B33N CLOS3D"

Starting commentary on why they played with the medium by opting for a Longpage with that update.  Unsurprising and understandable~

Ooh, they included the commission/sketch instructions for the image they asked from Xam.

I don't know what we did to deserve Xamag.

Yeah few people dispute Xamag’s awesomeness.~

Much of this conversation was written before they launched HS^2′s first chapter, huh?

With the "primary" version of its original protagonist dead in a wallet,

Did... did Terezi or someone else put John’s body in his wallet after he died?  I forget.  *checks back*

(Meat 35) That’s definitely a fair question. But I have one that’s much more important for her to answer. Terezi, are you seriously just going to leave the body here? “TEREZI: HUH?” Of course not. Terezi’s a practical girl, after all. She digs the wallet out of her blood-stained pants, and captchas the corpse. She holds it close to her heart, like a secret. Like John’s stupid last words: a confession whispered for her and no one else.And then she starts walking home.

(Meat 36) Terezi’s jaw tightens. She’s not ready to hear any words that remind her of those few hours with John. Her hand goes to her pocket, where she’s keeping the wallet. She traces the contours of it with her thumb and forces a smile.

[...] Here we both are. It’s a beautiful day. You’ve got your dead boyfriend in your wallet. And we’ve already managed to strike such a nice metatextual rapport. So hear me out. [...]  I ease the throttle back a bit, just enough so that I’m not whispering directly into her ear when she slips the wallet out of her pocket. She clutches it so hard in her palm that she’s digging dents into the leather, and bites her lip.

God damnit, that was an important fucking thing for me to forget.  I hope she preserved his corpse in a better way than just “wallet”.  And why the FUCK did Dirk think it was so important to bring him???? That’s not good, is it.

Back to the commentary, going to how the Dirk crew’s conversations especially cover the meta question of why continue the story at all...

This is actually a similar question to one explored by a series that shares a lot of Homestuck's creative DNA, Steven Universe.

Oh god damnit, what timing, huh?  And then they go on about what constitutes a happy ending and what’s supposed to happen after, how work might not be done, et cetera.  Hopefully these authors take a page from how SU:F finished, because Steven Universe managed to pull it back to uplifting pretty well.

These are two dangerous women, confined together long enough to learn all of each others' weaknesses, and sharp-edged enough to exploit them.

True enough.

Dirk, unfortunately, cucks the audience from seeing the scene's "true resolution." What an asshole. I've never been madder at this guy than I am right now. I bet he didn't even provide a warranty.

Pff.

On to the next commentary:

Sketches and Commentary: Catnapped, Part Three

Catnapped is some of the most fun I’ve had while writing, because Jasprose is just so goddamn fun. Cats don’t plan, they live in the moment. She’s always existing in that moment of pushing a glass off the table.

We can all agree with that I think.

Plenty they talk about here, but I’ll just quote part of anything about characterization... 

First, I actually really appreciate getting a lot at Jane's genuine sympathy for Dirk here. There was quite a bit of mutual fondness and care between the two of them – but, at the same time, they enabled each others' worst tendencies.

Hm!

Swifer remains the closest thing to a "straight man" this story has. (Not in the sexuality way. In the comedy way.)

Yep.

There was no universe where we left this story without Jasprose saying "owo what's this". You know it, I know it.

Jesus Christ, I didn’t catch that.

God, Problem Sleuth just has the worst commuting luck. He should put some of his rug money into a permanent locksmith. Checking back in with these scenes is always a delight. It probably took PS like two hundred off-screen panels to get to this point. Miserable.

Wait, that’s right, Catnapped 28 is shown before DDD 12, but AFTER Dad is shown marching up handcuffed in Catnapped 26.  And yet in DDD 12, Dad and DD come fetch PS from out of his office, when the handcuffed thing hasn’t happened yet in DDD.  You can’t DO that, authors!  It only makes RELEASE ORDER sense, not any sort of OTHER sense?  What about when people come to catch up or read this later!  Come on, that’s sloppy.  Unless they’re going to leave PS behind to stay trapped in his office MORE, which I wouldn’t put past them.  (But, wouldn’t make sense since the bullethole from C28 is already there in DDD12.)  Andrew knew more of how to be responsible telling an out-of-time-sync story, believe it or not.

Commentary ends with a few sketches, like Jasprose doing a The Mask impression, appropriately.

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 6, "A Conversation Regarding Relevance"

Oh, it’s Jade time.

On alt!Callie’s starting Space rant:

I wanted to impress on everyone just how vast it is, and also to remind the audience that alt!callie has them at the same mercy that Dirk does. She can force us to listen to her pontificate endlessly if she so chooses. She’s slightly less insufferable than Dirk, if only perhaps because her text isn’t orange. 

Yep, mostly.

So here she is. Jade. We find out that not only is she conscious inside her own head, she is also incredibly chatty. And not too thrilled with her current situation. I know most of the audience isn’t either, considering the fact that Jade having no agency has basically become a meme at this point. 

NEVER. AGAIN. PLZ.

As Callie told us in the beginning of the chapter, it isn’t natural for people to behave like narrative devices. Even within her own thematic framework, Callie has a habit of defaulting to behaving like a person after all. 

Even alt!Callie still became a story nerd, not just original Callie -- she just became a different, more insufferable type of story nerd.

Plenty more discussion I don’t need to touch on...  keep in mind I’m omitting large parts of this in most cases, again, to respect the paywall.

A remark on Dave and Karkat being two emotionally-constipated early-twenties Bernie Bros, which... I mean.  Fair.

She definitely does love them, and she wanted to be with them, but also...Jade has a lot of other prospects. She’s actually the one character who seems to be enjoying her time on Earth c. Hitting up interspecies raves and getting around. We just haven’t seen any of that because none of those other people she boned are main characters. 

Maybe that’s why alt!Callie was so blind and dismissive of it?  Offscreen experience being less in the Light, therefore less relevant to her, even though that’s the exact attitude she’s ostensibly at war with?

Anyway Jade’s consciousness is huge.

Yep.

It’s been a while since we’ve had any sort of serious meta talk about classpects. Mostly because there’s really no use for classpects outside of the game, unless, for instance, you go around referring to everyone as the Prince or the Witch because you are a dramatic alien in a hood. It does make sense that a Witch’s powers would be more useful than a Sylph’s to a Muse. 

Aaaand that’s all the classpect mention we’re gonna get isn’t it? ;P

(Yes I know, the author told us to dial it back.  They ARE going ahead and prepping to answer some outstanding questions, though.)

Honestly, the Jade Situation is a tough one. To be sure, she has been sacrificed to the plot again and again, something that probably began as a coincidence and then later grew into a theme. Space players are destined to be huge, cosmic forces in the universe. Big movers. [...] But usually when we hear the story of big, god-like beings, we don’t think about the personalities behind them. What was it like for god to create the universe? Was he lonely? Did he regret it? Did he wish he could live in it instead? 

And Jade WAS too powerful not to sideline, by a certain point in the plot.  And before that, maybe trapped in a bit of a character arc where she had to get over some notions to step into the action.

I actually think Jade could have been okay with this. With being A Force For The Narrative. [...] But then Callie makes it personal.

Agreed.  If alt!Callie hadn’t been so shitty about it in general, they could have worked things out more meaningfully; but the immense resolve and effort it took to dominate Caliborn in her origin timeline has tainted her perception ALMOST as bad as Dirk’s.  Much of HS^2 is probably going to involve her gradually learning how to get over that in the background, the balance she needs to take ala the Ultimate Riddle’s lesson.

(Tangentially... it was said that it would have been nearly impossible to make alt!Callie dominate, even across ALL timelines.  What if alt!Callie had her timeline’s origin explained in HS^2 by a Third Scratch at this late date with the likes of Davebot running around to do it???  That would probably make me fucking mad.)

Back to the commentary.

Admittedly these last few chapters have definitely been “girls beating the crap out of each other” heavy, and I hope that’s okay.

PFFFFF

Callie and Jade aren’t really sure who makes a decision on what is considered “just” or “heroic”. Plot twist, it’s us. We do. But also the alpha timeline does.

Hmm.

More gorgeous Xam art. Initially we were going to make it more ambiguous whether or not she actually ate the peanut butter, but we decided to have it be a decisive moment of triumph.

Really?  Well, you could have made it visually clearer that the candy dropped.  A lot of people visually missed that.  This is a consequence of the back-and-forth artist-isnt-the-author art-commissioning going on, in part... Andrew was MUCH better at conveying what he wanted to convey BETWEEN panels than this crew, like comic book panels and their composition together; you can see that when comparing Homestuck proper’s sprite animation to that of fan adventures that used sprites, for instance.  These guys are at something of a disadvantage due to their disconnect.

Commentary on the Commentary

This commentary uses "she/her" to talk about the alternate Calliope possessing Jade, while the "other" Callie (remember them?) uses they/them. This other Calliope, presumably, has a much different relationship with her gender – and her brother – than the Callie we saw discussing the subject with Roxy and John. One of my favorite things about this update (I can say that, because I'm a second person who didn't write it) was that subtle hint about how different her Caliborn must have been to allow her to predominate in the first place. I'd be really interested in fan works exploring more about her (and his) past.

Hhhhmmmmmmm.

Not sure what else to say to that, but it does make me hmmm.

Sketches and Commentary: Diamonds, Dames, and Dads, Part 1

Probably not much plot-relevant here...

Oh pff.

They had full drawings of them going in for the kiss on standby.  They couldn’t resist making them.

Real talk, I have been looking forward to writing this story the most out of any other part of HS^2. Finally I get to combine my passions. Cheesy noir bullshit and old men making eyes at each other. 

Pfffffff.  Yes.

...the next three or four pages of this writing go on to describe how sexy this is and these characters and setting are.  I can’t fault a word of any of it.

The dream team is assembled. Nothing can possibly go wrong. 

Wow, I caught up on all this commentary quick.  See you next time.