#So you repeatedly see him without a ring but never took a photo to show us you’re right😌

[clairehadenough]

Dear God, I can’t 😂😂😂

[creepychan08]

Oikawa x reader - A married life

"Now I'm asking you, what is this?" You shoved the screen of your phone,  towards your husband as he squinted his eyes at the sudden action.

"I told you,  I was at the company party and I-" Oikawa stopped. The picture showed him kissing a woman clad in revealing dress. His hands covered her cheeks as it looked like he was gladly returning the affection.

"Yn,  I know what it looks like but I promise you its not what it seems like to you."

"Then why are you kissing her!?" You threw your hands in the air,  frustrated at your husband. It didn't help that your hormones were skyrocketing and out of place. You were 3 months pregnant, after all.

"Look, she grabbed me out of nowhere and just forced herself on me. I was trying to push her that's why my hands were around her head. Baby, I wouldn't do that to you. You know I only love you."

You were rendered speechless at his explanation. The ache in your chest dispersing as you calm down. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your soft hair.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. He smell so good beneath the smooth texture of his suit. Unknowingly to you, Oikawa's eyes were tightly shut as he bit his lips guiltily.

"It's just whenever I go to your workplace, I always see her sauntering around you. She's obviously trying to seduce you. That's why I asked you again and again to avoid her as much as possible. I don't want to lose you" Voicing out your insecurities made you feel vulnerable. But you know that being in a relationship require two parties involved to be honest with each other. Communication and trust remains the strong foundation of your marriage.

"I know,  sweetheart. But tell me, who sent that picture to you?" He pulled back and just when you were about to answer,  another chime from your phone took both of your attention.

You clicked it open. Oikawa right by your side as he curiously look at your text. You didn't mind it. There was nothing to hide from him anyway.

The message opened to reveal a video. Tapping the play button, it shows your husband furiously making out with the same girl in the earlier photo. They were situated in a corner,  away from everyone as some of his coworkers were busily drinking.

You hands started shaking as tears unconsciously poured from your eyes. Feeling your husband tense from beside you only confirms your theory. The video soon ended and there was tense silence.

You looked up to see Oikawa with his head bowed, hair covering his eyes. Even from your position, you couldn't see his expression. But it didn't matter. The video says it all. You didn't bother asking for explanation this time.

Slowly, you begun untangling his arms around you. Letting out a hollow laugh, you shook your head in dismay.

Funny how you always laugh at those cliche movies whenever a girl experiences heartbreak. They always portray it as a physical pain, symtoms similar to a heart attack. But you deem it as bullshit. Sure, it hurts. But its impossible to feel that much pain just from losing the one you love, right?

So why does it feel like you're dying now? Your heart still beats. But it feels as if it was literally torn and stamp repeatedly. You tried to breath normally but something lodge in your throat and why can't you breath properly?  Why does your lungs seem to stop working right when you need it most?

"Yn!"

"YN!!!"

Choking back a gasp, you return to reality as you see Oikawa panicking as he held you.

"Are you okay? Breath slowly, baby" He instructed, rubbing his hand soothingly on your back as you tried to regain your senses.

"Why, Tooru?" You finally gathered the courage to ask. The feeling of betrayal rang loud and clear on your hoarse voice and he winced from it.

"I'm sorry Yn. I'm sorry for lying. I got pretty drunk at the party. I lose control. We haven't done it for a while after you got pregnant and she was there and just flaunting around and kept rubbing me, saying things how she's going to make me feel good and I just- I!" He rambled, truth finally spilling from those lips you loved so much. His eyes were everywhere but you.

You didn't know what to feel. You asked for the truth, right? But you feel so much worse now.

"Are you blaming me for being pregnant, Tooru?"

"Shit,  no Yn-"

"We planned this together! You said you wanted to build a family with me. And we both decided to refrain from any sexual activities while I'm in my early pregnancy to avoid any possible complications while the baby is being developed. We talked about it and we both agreed! So why are you turning it against me now?"

"I know it wasn't an excuse, Yn! And I know I'm wrong. God,  I'm so wrong.Please, forgive me." Oikawa sobbed, tears cascading down the smooth expanse of his cheeks as he begged for your forgiveness.

"If you can't help yourself then maybe I shouldn't have agreed to have a baby with you!" You cried, anger radiating off you in waves.

"All those nights you came home late. Was it because you were taking your sweet time with her? Hm?" You smiled at him mockingly and his eyes widened in protest.

"No, Yn!" He tightly clutched your arms, desperately forcing you to hear him out, "Listen to me. I took all those overtime to gain extra money. That was in preparation for when our baby comes! Please believe me when I say it was for us!"

You looked at him with dull eyes. The aftermath of the fight just leaves you exhausted. You didn't know what to believe anymore. This was the man you had vowed to be with for the rest of your life. This was the man you wholeheartedly love and respect. Trust had always been your foundation,  hasn't it? 

Where has all the trust gone to?

You placed your hand on your belly. Wondering if he or she can feel the pain their father just bestowed to you. Hopefully not. You never want any harm nor pain come to your baby.

"I'm going to sleep. I'm tired." Coming up with a lame excuse, you turn to walk away when a hand firmly grasp your arms, not in a painful way.

"Lets talk about this, Yn. I don't want us to go to sleep tonight without resolving this issue." Oikawa pleaded with you, eyes begging for a chance. Any time, you will easily give in but after what happened, you don't know how to face him.

"I don't know what to say anymore, Tooru. I just want to rest." You smiled at him resignedly. Oikawa gritted his teeth. His heart throb painfully. How can you say that with such look on your face? Knowing that he caused your pain only increased the frustration and guilt running through his veins.

With a sigh,  he unwillingly yielded to your request. Letting go of your hand,  he watched your back face him as you slowly walked further away from him.

He will later learn that that was the biggest mistake of his life.

That night, both of you slept in the same bed as usual. Although a few inches only separates you, both your hearts were distanced with an invisible barrier. One trying to forget the pain it experienced,  while the other trying to find ways to have you back to him.

It was dead silent. You were tilting in between reality and dreams when a sudden, sharp pain tore through your abdomen and you screamed in pain. Startling your husband who immediately checked on you.

"Yn-chan,  are you okay?  What happened!?" Oikawa asked,  panic covering his features as he took in your pain filled expression. He felt the sheets wet and he clicked the bedside lamp open to see your side in bed covered in blood.

Your pupils dilated as you took in the sight. Another stabbing pain washed over you and you keeled in agony, stifling your screams. You barely felt Oikawa whisper comforting words to you before quickly lifting you up to bring you to the hospital.

My baby. No,  I can't lose him/her. Was the only thought going through your mind.

"It hurts" you groaned in pain as Oikawa comfortingly grip your hand with one of his own as he drive with one hand. (AN: Not safe. Don't do this guys. Always drive safely)

"Take deep breaths, love"

"My baby" Sobbing in distress, you held on your stomach and Oikawa felt like vomiting. A lot has happened in the past couple of hours and the thought of something happening to your unborn child didn't help the queasy feeling in his gut.

"I'm here, Yn. Nothing will happen to you nor our baby." Pretending to be strong for the both of you, he forcefully blinked the tears forming on his eyes.

Everything happened fast after that. It was like everything was a blur for him. You were quickly taken in the emergency room before you were transferred to the operating room. The doctor and nurses explained what was happening to you and what they were about to do. He numbly agreed to what they say. Only repeated over and over again that they must save you.

Before long he found himself waiting outside the operating theatre. His ears were ringing as he looked at his surroundings. It was surreal. Like his body was there but his consciousness somewhere else. He was only brought back to reality when he felt harsh tugging on his shoulder.

"Oi,  Oikawa get a grip on yourself!"

"Iwa-...chan..? How did you get here? "

"You texted me,  did you forget?"

"Ah.. Right" Oikawa mumbled, blankly staring at nowhere in particular. He felt drained but the anxiety running on his body did not allow him to even get an ounce of rest as he waited for the news on his wife and baby.

Iwaizumi frowned. It was unusual to see his bestfriend so distraught. He still didn't know what happened after all, Oikawa only texted him that he was in the hospital after something happened to his wife. But he felt asking would be too insensitive on his part so he stay silent and tried to just be there for his bestfriend.

"It was my fault,  y'know" Oikawa finally spoke after some time.

Iwaizumi patiently waited for him to continue, silently confused on Oikawa blaming himself.

"We had a fight. She saw me making out with the girl she hated from our company. Somebody sent her a video of it."

Iwaizumi was shocked. He knew Oikawa was a huge flirt back in their high school days but that he also outgrew it when he fall in love with Yn Ln. They were happy together and rarely had a fight as much as he knew. Or was it all a facade?

Suddenly,  he felt anger rush through him at the foolishness of his bestfriend. Messing around when he knew his wife was pregnant! Iwaizumi opened his mouth to curse at his close friend when he was frozen at the sight.

Oikawa was staring at him with regret painted all over his face. Tears continuously fall on his cheeks. The usual light in his warm, soft eyes was gone and all that was left was an endless pit of misery and hopelessness.

"I screwed up, Iwa-chan" He whispered, defeated.

Flinching in response, Iwaizumi's anger quickly switch into sympathy for his friend as he assessed his poor condition.

"She's strong. Stop thinking on the worst scenario. Just focus on what you will do after this." While giving him a reassurring pat on the back. Oikawa released a shaky breath as he nodded at his friends' advice.

Suddenly,  the doors to the operating room opened and a doctor wearing scrubs came out. Two nurses were by his side.

"We're looking for the husband of Yn, Ln"

"That is me"

Oikawa quickly stand up from his seat and approach the doctor. He was then escorted to an empty room where the two nurses silently left him and the doctor to discuss the aftermath of the procedure.

With his heart beating loudly, Oikawa eagerly fired questions to the doctor.

"How is she?  How's my wife?  My baby?  Were you able to save them?  When can I see them?"

The doctor resignedly took of his mask.

"I'm sorry to inform you,  Oikawa-san but the baby didn't make it. Your wife had a spontaneous miscarriage. It has no specific cause. Women in their first trimester or early pregnancy are more prone to experience it that's why stress must be avoided at all times especially during this sensitive period in a womans' body."

Oikawa felt like being doused in cold water. He stayed frozen while staring at the doctor who looked grim. After seeing all that blood came out on his wife,  he already knew deep inside that they lost the baby but he simply refused to believe it. He hang on to that tiny hope that maybe their unborn baby can be saved.

He shakily gulped, feeling his heart break. The pain was intense. They were looking forward to the arrival of their first child and for this to happen-

"What about my wife? Can I see her now?" He was hurting. Greatly. But he couldn't imagine how his wife was faring. She was the one carrying their child, after all. He wanted to comfort her and be there for her.

"I-" the doctor stopped and cleared his throat. Oikawa felt something amiss. Like an impending doom but he quickly tried to shoo the thought away.

"Doctor, how is she? I want to talk to her as soon as possible."

"That is another matter I must discuss with you, Oikawa-san."

The nerves were killing him and it took all his self restraint to not jump across the table and force the surgeon to speak at once.

"There was.. a complication while we were taking the fetus out of her. The amount of blood was greater than what it should been. We quickly transfused blood into her but it wasn't enough. We tried to resuscitate her but in the end she.. died due to heamorrhagic shock."

For a moment, Oikawa forgot how to breath. The world around him turn to black and white and the only words resounding in his mind was that she's dead, she's dead repeatedly.

It didn't fully sink in yet. Until he saw his wife, his beloved Yn, lying still in the operating room. Her face was pale under the glare of OR lights. And if he didn't know any better, it looks as if she is only sleeping peacefully after a long day. But as he caress her cold cheeks, no more warmth emanating from those cheeks he love to kiss so much, he was slapped with the bitter reality that she's not coming back.

No more warm smiles and sweet kisses from his wife as he return home after a long day at work. No more delicious meals waiting for him at the table as they talked about what happened during their day. No more cuddles and whisper of i love you's in the darkness of the night as they lay entangled from the after event of making love.

The perfect picture of a happy family with their son/daughter shattered in his mind as he loudly grieved for the loss of his family.

Kami-sama if you are real,  please let me return back time. Let me be with my family again. Please give me a chance to make things right...

Oikawa loudly gasped as if coming back to land after drowning. He find himself gazing at the ceiling in their room. It was dark. Where was he?

A slight shuffle and then,

"Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare, Tooru?"

That sweet, melodious voice.

Oikawa slowly turn towards the source of sound to see, much to his relief, his beloved wife gazing at him with concern while rubbing the sleep out her eyes.

"Yn-chan" He choked, lunging at her to give her the tightest embrace.

"Woah there,  big guy" You chuckled,  patting his back. You stilled when you felt something wet trickled down your neck.

"I'm so glad! So glad to be with you, Yn!" The pure, raw emotion coming from your husband surprised you as he continued to sob on your neck, clinging to you like a lost baby.

"Please don't ever leave me again!  Kami-sama,  thank you for bringing her back to me!" Oikawa yelled, voice muffled as he continued to shove his face around your neck.

"What has happened to you, dear?" You worriedly asked and pull his face away to wipe some of his tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You suggested,  talking about his nightmare.

"No need, love. I just want to say that I *kiss* love *kiss* you *kiss* so damn much!"

You giggled at his affection, loving his kisses.

"Oh and how many months are you again?"

"Silly, did you forget? I'm just two months along. 7 months to go"

Oikawa heaved a sigh of relief. Turning to your stomach,  he leaned down and pulled up your shirt.

"Hey,  little one. I'm so excited to meet you. But for now,  be good for mommy, okay?" Placing a sweet kiss to your stomach,  you smiled at your husbands' attention as you run your fingers through his hair. Oikawa gladly reciprocate your smile with his own.

This time, I'll love you with all of my heart. I won't make the same mistakes again. We will be a happy family, Yn.

Extended ending:

"Yes you heard it right. You're fired." Oikawa coldly said to his assistant. The one who destroyed his past life and made him and his wife suffer.

"But! I-" she whined pathetically, trying to win his sympathy by acting like a pitiful slut. But Oikawa was having none of it.

"I said. Get. Out." The fiery glare in his eyes send shivers down her spine and she immediately booked her way out of his office,  whining like a bitch along the way.

Another extended ending:

7 months later, you tiredly smile at the little bundle of joy in your arms. After 18 hours of grueling labor, you finally had your healthy, baby boy.

"I'm so proud of you." Oikawa wiped the sweat along your forehead as he softly kissed you.

"Thank you for bringing our baby to this world. You make me the happiest person alive, Yn. I love you two so much and I swear to protect you both for the rest of my life." He whispered, tears springing in his eyes at the emotional moment.

"As do I,  Tooru. As do I." You swore,  sealing that promise with sweet kiss.

Fin

[danioak7]

A Perfect Day

Heyo! This is Dani here! Finally posting one of my insert reader fanfics on here, and what could be a better way than to start with the first of 4 parts in my Jonathan Crane series! I’ll hopefully post up another random fanfic later on, but here’s part 1 of my A Perfect Life series. Hope you guys enjoy❤️

~~~

“Johnny, c’mon! I’m sure your dad won’t mind.”

“I-I’m not sure, Y/N...”

She stopped running. She then turned to face him and grabbed his hands. She looked almost nervous. Her small problem was that she did this without thinking too much, and she never considered if Jonathan would be okay with this. She looked up into his eyes, and he could see her e/c eyes as clear as day. They were mesmerizing.

“Hey. If he gets you in trouble, I’ll be there to take the blame.”

“I-I don’t want you to do that. That doesn’t seem right.”

“I don’t care if it’s right; I’m not letting you be at fault for this. But if you don’t want to go...”

“N-No! No, I-I want to go. I really do, Y/N. Let’s just go.” If he was being honest, he really just wanted to spend more time with her. With her holding his hands, he felt safe. He wanted to be in a relationship with her so bad, but with his dad’s research picking up, he knew he couldn’t dare be with her. His father was already so hesitant about him going to school, so what would happen if he got a girlfriend?! But at this moment, he just wanted to be with Y/N. So that’s what he did; he stuck with Y/N.

“Really? O-Okay! Yeah! C’mon, it’s this way!” Y/N still held onto one of his hands as the pair raced from the front of the school towards the small town closest to the school. It wasn’t quite considered as being “in Gotham”, but it was a peaceful little town with a low crime rate, considering how heavy the crime was in the large neighbouring city. For a good bit, the teens were running. But Y/N eventually slowed down, because neither teen could successfully run very far. The entire time, Jonathan held her hand tightly. He was afraid that if he let go, then he’d lose her forever. They strolled through the small town just outside of Gotham, just enjoying each other’s company. She led him towards a pier, where there was a safety railing so people didn’t fall into the water. What she did next left Jonathan in awe...

She let go of his hand and ran up to the railing. She stood there holding onto it, and looking at the water and the sky with so much hope in her eyes. The wind blew lightly, and it softly lifted her h/l, h/c hair. Her skirt was blowing behind her in the wind, and her body language showed that she was at peace. The water in front of her was a deep, sparkling blue. The sky was filled with cotton candy shaped clouds, and was coloured a pale blue like the shirt he wore that day.

The breeze became a bit cold for her, so she shivered slightly. In an instant, Jonathan calmly took off his hoodie, walked towards her, and wrapped it around her. She was so grateful for the gesture. She even wrapped an arm around him, as she hoped he would stay beside her. He did indeed.

The pair started towards the open water ahead of them. It was such a calm time in both of their lives; it felt so weird, but in a good way. But the gears in Jonathan’s head were turning rapidly, just trying to figure out how to tell the sweet angelic girl beside him how he truly felt. To hell with what his dad thought; he wanted to be with her. And if that was the last thing that he would do, he’d be glad he did. Y/N on the other hand was in pure bliss. The boy she had fallen for all those years ago was in such close proximity to her, to the point where she could almost hear his heartbeat. She decided to lay her head on his shoulder, which startled the nervous boy.

“I’m sorry, Johnny! I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“N-No! You’re good. Um, if you want to, you can put your head back there. I really liked it...”

“Oh, okay. I really liked it too.”

Once her head landed back on his shoulder, Jonathan pulled her slightly closer to him. His confidence had disappeared in an instant. But Y/N needed to say one more thing before they fell back to their comfortable silence:

“I’m so glad you’re here with me, Jonathan. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“M-Me too, Y/N. I think I’d be pretty lost.”

“You’d still be in the corner, alone at lunch,” the smaller one replied with a chuckle.

“That I would be. That I would be...” and with that, the pair fell back to their peaceful silence. But Jonathan’s head was still trying to figure out how on Earth he was gonna tell her that he felt all these feelings for her.

Bit by bit, his confidence came back. After a while, he did something that even took him by surprise: he lightly kissed Y/N’s forehead and muttered that he loves her. As soon as he did, his face turned an even darker shade of red (if it even could). Where did this come from?! He wasn’t even thinking straight. He started to panic, and wished he hadn’t said that out loud nor done anything at all. During his panic, the small girl looked up at him with large doe eyes.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I-I don’t k-know what-“

“Shut up.”

“I- what?” That got his attention for sure.

“Shut up! You’re so nervous! Don’t be,” she lightly grabbed his chin so that he would look at her, and looked deep into his eyes. Her smile was huge, “because I love you too.”

His mind went blank. Absolutely blank. She loved him?! Oh god, his heart was soaring. He was on cloud 9. All his setbacks in this whole endeavour today had been because he was so nervous and stuck in his head. But all the things that led to something good were when he just shut off his mind, and followed his heart. So that’s what he did.

The lovestruck boy pulled the equally lovestruck girl closer to him, and repeatedly planted sweet kisses to her forehead. The pair were a smiling, blushing mess. But they didn’t care; they had each other. After the many kisses to her forehead, Jonathan mustered up the courage to plant a gentle kiss onto the beautiful girl’s lips. It was sweet and simple, that left the two of them wanting a little bit more. When the two teens pulled away, they instantly wrapped each other in a tight hug.

For Jonathan, he finally found someone to love him and not have the urge to use him for studying purposes. But for Y/N, she now had someone to call her own. She had always wanted someone who loves her unconditionally, and now she finally has that person: her best friend and now boyfriend, Jonathan Crane. And as they watched the cotton candy clouds shift and the sparkling water ripple, their souls intertwined. That single thing caused a symphony of endless love and adoration that rang through the air around them. No matter what would happen in the future, they’d face it together.

But that was all just a pleasant memory now. Now Jonathan sat in a cell in Arkham Asylum, with his back pressed against the wall and a photo in hand. He managed to sneak the photo in, and hide it any time someone came nearby. It was a photo that Y/N had taken that day: she held the camera in a selfie-like fashion, and it showed her with a giant smile. Jonathan was behind her, with his arms wrapped around her waist and his head on her shoulder. He looked so lovestruck in the photo. He still was to this day. The poor boy still twitched with fear as he sat, but that photo- no, the sight of Y/N kept him calm.

She never visited. It was as though he didn’t exist anymore. He would never know if she just didn’t want to come, or if there was something blocking her path. But as long as he had the photo in his hand, he believed he’d be alright. Maybe not today, but maybe tomorrow. Or the next day, even.

“If I could just take us back to those days. If I had one wish, then I could just do that. You used to brighten every empty space, and the words ‘I love you’ replaced any doubt I had. Maybe time wouldn’t try to erase you from my mind. If you could only know that I’d never let you go, Y/N.”

The guard heard Jonathan’s ramblings, and went to check on him. The scared boy saw the infamous scarecrow figure instead, looming over top of him. As soon as the guard got close, he saw the photo. He grabbed it out of Jonathan’s hand, and marched back outside. In Jonathan’s eyes, he saw the scarecrow figure that he hated wrenching his hand open. Then he finally saw the guard, who proceeded to take the photo from the helpless boy. And with that, all his hope disappeared, and he was left completely alone.

“A-And the words ‘I promise, I’ll be back. I’m not leaving you’ r-ring through my head. I-I m-miss y-you Y/N…”

The broken shell of a hopeless boy was all that was left in that cell. And from that point on, there were few words he actually said. All that came from him now were screams.

[hcneymilkks]

Month

A fake dating au but make it marriage. Two best friends scroll on social media and notice a trend where newlyweds send invites to famous celebrities to see what will happen? An appearance? A gift? Who knows. For the two best friends, as a joke, set up a fake wedding and request the most expensive gifts with the option of money. Sending invites to celebrities ranging from Kim Kardashian to even the Queen, they are surprised and shocked to realize that not only were gifts being delivered nearing the “big day” but a request to be part of the celebration causes the two friends to create a fake marriage in the smallest amount of time they have. 

University AU! Aged-up Haikyuu Characters!

Fashion Designer/Psychologist Oikawa

Humanities Y/N

Rain splattered on the window, causing little droplets here and there to roll down with no hesitation. The quiet hums of lo-fi music made its way around the little bedroom, with vigorous typing accompanying it. 

Backspace.

Enter. 

Click and delete. 

Brain throbbing, a sigh escaping from the lips.

It was no use, the longer the computer was stared at, the more your brain felt like mush.

“Damn him and using me to do his research analysis.”

Speak of the devil.

“Y/n!”

You stood up, turning around and crossing your arms with a glare. There he stood, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a sly smirk on his face.

Tooru Oikawa.

“How’s the report going? I hope to see it done by tomorrow?”

“Fuck you,” you strided over and pushed his arms, causing him to slightly lose balance. “Just tell me how you managed not getting kicked out yet. I swear you casted a spell on your professors or something. It's like you don’t do anything.”

He feigned hurt. “I do!” He whined. “Just not class related.” He pushed past you and flung yourself onto the bed, burying his face into your freshly washed sheets. “I’m designing a new clothing line inspired by the different volleyball team colours.”

“Is this your way at relieving the pain from not making it to nationals?” you snickered, remembering how pissed off he was after Ushijima told him he should have gone to Shiratorizawa.

“I-you little shit. This is why I never tell you things.”

“Shut up shittykawa you literally are making me do your research proposal. I know nothing about psychology!”

“I’m helping you learn a new subject! It’s time to look into your own brain and see what’s wrong with you!”

…

Three.

Two.

One.

“OIKAWA YOU LITTLE SHIT!” you flung yourself on top of him, garnering an oomph! sound. You smacked his back repeatedly. 

He let it have your way, already coming up with a counterattack. 

With stinging hands and shallow breaths after saying nothing but curses, you stopped and climbed off of him. Immediately, he’s on top of you. Pinning your wrists and getting dangerously closer to your neck. You couldn’t lie, he was attractive, but knowing him and his two-faced personality, you’d rather stay friends. 

But did you really want to?

A part of him knew you wanted him, but was that a risk you were willing to take?

Deep breaths. 

A low chuckle. “You love me y/n. I know you do, and I also know you’d do anything for me.” He smirked and pressed a kiss oh so close to your lips, getting up and dusting off his black shirt.

“I’m leaving! Remember, the paper has to be done by tomorrow!”

The door closed and for a moment you looked at your ceiling.

Eyes wide. 

Taking a pillow, you screamed into it.

“SHITTYKAWA!”

“Here you hoe, now for once in your life do your own work.”

You stomped into one of the many University studios, aiming the folder at Oikawa’s head much to his dismay.

“Thank you love you!”

You glared at him and waved a hand. “You definitely owe me like five bowls of ramen after what you put me through. I can’t believe you made me read so much on children’s brains and development.”

“I mean they said to choose something I liked, so children and volleyball worked together. Plus, if I actually had to conduct the research, my nephew’s volleyball club would have been perfect.” He finally turned around after pinning the teal fabric to the mannequin, striding towards you and ruffling your hair.

You mumbled incoherent curses as Oikawa picked up his sketchbook, writing down a quick note before closing it.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.”

The fragrant air of spices and creamy broth filled the little shop, making you drool. Grateful that Oikawa was rich, you took the opportunity to order almost everything on the menu.

“Y/n isn’t that-” you growled at him and he smirked.

“Feisty, you know I love that.” he winked and you gagged.

While waiting for the food, both of you were scrolling on Instagram. Having most of the same friends, it was no surprise that your timelines almost looked identical. Rolling his eyes, Oikawa saw a group photo of most of the volleyball players Hinata was pictured with, wanting nothing more than to squish the little one. 

But then something caught your eyes. 

You looked up at Oikawa who seemingly had the same expression, eyes wide, yet confused.

The dead groupchat came back to life with a link sent by Matsukawa, something about a bet.

matthewkawa 

Look at this lol

Sent a link

[Youtube storytime: The Time I Invited Drake to My Wedding (Spoiler Alert: He Came!)]

hannamaki

Wait why would someone invite a celebrity? Aren’t they hard to ask?

nishinoyya

Wait that’s cool! Asahi-san can we invite Jason Derulo to our wedding?

acai

Wait...what? What wedding?

y/n

Waittt i’ve seen that video

Apparently as a joke the person sent lots of invites to different celebrities. Most of them gave gifts or money but I guess Drake went

iwachew

LOOL IMAGINE Y/N AND CRAPPYKAWA DOING THAT

yoyoinata

I can see that woah!

milkyama

Psh! Flattykawa and y/n. I can’t see it. y/n deserves better lol

fabkawa

OI TAKE THAT BACK STUPID

y/n

Oi don’t talk back to my child like that shittykawa

fabkawa

Shut up y/n and eat your ramen

You glared at him before saying thank you to the waiter. Both minds now occupied with the creamy ramen and soft boiled egg. 

Flipping a page, you smiled. There it was, the fake couple who both fell for each other, breaking so many rules. But who couldn’t resist?

Oikawa scrolled on the computer, typing and clicking. He swiveled around in his seat and went over to you, peering over your shoulder.

You smacked his arm. “Personal space excuse me!” He put his arm up in defence, smirking.

“Remember the post Matsukawa sent?

“Yeah. So what?”

“I made the wedding on May 14th and invited some celebrities. Who did you want to send an invite to?”

You dropped the book. “Say what?”

Oikawa dragged you from his bed and sat you down on his uncomfy chair. Indeed, the computer screen showed a cheesy website where people rsvp to weddings. Already half of the groupchat accepted and you know this had to be a joke.

“Oikawa are you dumb? Who are you marrying? Wait no, who would want to marry you?” you looked at him and he pouted.

“Iwa-chan said no, Mad Dog scares me, Ushijima is definitely a no, so you’re left.”

“Who said I would do it?”

“I invited Stray Kids.”

Are you kidding me?

“This isn’t real, we’re not gonna really get married right? I mean if we were technically speaking, the wedding is less than a month away and we don’t have money, a reception place or any other sappy wedding shit.” You looked at the list and sure enough, Stray Kids was there.

“No y/n nothing is going to happen trust me. Plus, who doesn’t like free gifts? I tried to ask for expensive gifts and money because someone’s wardrobe and apartment looks ugly as hell.”

“You better not be talking about me bitch. I’m gonna set that sketchbook on fire.”

Oikawa chuckled. “Add some more people on the list, I wanna see how far this can get.”

“I never said I agreed to it,” you mumbled but nonetheless added in a few of your favourite celebrities, including the queen. 

After all, if this worked, free money. What’s the harm in that?”

A lot went wrong after that.

It was three am a week after the planning and your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Grumbling, you answered the call without looking at the number…..which was a stupid mistake.

“Y/N! HOW DO I CANCEL THE WEDDING?!”

“Relax Papi you said nothing would happen? Free money right?” you yawned not even realizing what you said.

Oikawa sputtered on the other line, shaking his head and ignoring how you called him Papi for some reason. “Yeah but uh...we have a little problem.” 

“Hm…”

“Jason Derulo accepted the invite ...and he can’t wait to see the ceremony.”

From that moment, you were fully awake. “WHAT?!!”

“What do you mean you can’t cancel the wedding?” you rubbed at your temples, losing more brain cells by the minute.

"Okay so apparently my last name is common around celebrities, seeing as my father owns different restaurants. So it’s not a surprise to them that they wouldn’t attend the wedding.’

“Fuck.” you breathed out. How did the both of you not realize this?

“Okay so um..what now?”

Oikawa ruffled his air. “We go through with it.”

"Fuck no.” 

“What why?”

You’re the one who thought of this crazy idea! It’s all your fault!” 

“But you’re the one who put Jason Derulo in there!”’

You smacked your forehead. “It was a joke and for free money! Look what you got us into.”

Yells back and forth, each blaming the other. It was like the night wasn’t going to end soon. Tired from the arguing, you smacked Oikawa’s chest. “Stupid,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to do this!”

Oikawa scratched the back of his neck. “But what if I want to?” You looked up at him confused. “You know, like how Hinata and Tobio fake dated but then became boyfriends.”

“Oikawa, that’s different. That’s dating, this is marriage. It’s adult stuff, I can barely cook!”

“I’ll cook for you.”

You walked away from him, going towards his balcony. The view was beautiful, seeing various stars and the lights shining from Tokyo. “This is too much for me to handle. You're a pain, you know that?”

He wrapped his arms around you and instinctively you snuggled closer to his chest, facing the view so he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.

"Remember when we were children? And we had a whole promise that we would be with each other forever?” you laughed. The classic child marriage pact. It was as if almost all friendships started with that promise. A promise to love and stay with each other no matter what.

“That’s child play.”

He started to rub circles with his thumbs on your arms, you feeling relaxed. “One month. Give me one month after the wedding. We’ll go on a honeymoon to London, I'll teach you how to cook, you can live with me, we can adopt a puppy.” Oikawa gulped and looked at you. “And if you don’t like it, we can pretend none of this happened. In fact i’ll stop bothering you with my assignments and my presence.”

One month. That sounded like a challenge. A challenge that Oikawa was willing to risk everything for. A month to make you fall for him.

“...so we’re splitting the gifts and money equally then, right?”

A/N: I’m back! This has been in my drafts for months. At first it was supposed to be Yuto from Pentagon but after getting into Haikyuu I was like fuck it and changed it to Oikawa. Also because yes LMAO. I hope you all liked it and let me know your comments! Part two will be in the works if people want it, for now its a oneshot aha. 

Much love!

tags: @babyworld , @bakuhoes-dumbass

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Ooooh boy! Welcome to a new side to writing from me! 

This little one shot is probably the most angst ridden one I’ve ever written. It’s okay though, promise! This is also the first time I’ve ever written about the characters as Sides instead of a Human AU... Plus the main premise of this was based off a scene in Thor 2, a film I absolutely adore! 

I hope you enjoy reading it. I loved writing it! <3

General writing taglist:  @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @writerwithtoomanyships

Read on Ao3!

No More Illusions.

Platonic/Romantic Logicality.

Word count: 1,623

Warnings: Crying, hurt, anger mentions, angry actions.

Logan rubbed his neck, it was still sore from where Janus yanked him away during the video. That wasn’t the only thing that was sore, his heart felt bruised too. He was ignored, skipped and still seen as an inconvenience. Hell, he turned himself into a textbox so he was out of the way. Was that not enough?

Despite the rage and the heartbreak he felt surging through him. He couldn’t help but feel a need to check on Patton. Even though he was angry when he appeared back one final time, he noticed that Patton wasn’t… himself. The way he desperately tried to beg Logan to stay, the pleading in his eyes… something must have happened when he was taken away. He needed to find out what.

He walked through the Mind Palace cautiously, he could still feel the anger swelling in his chest and he didn’t want to take it out on anyone unnecessarily. He couldn’t do that to the others. Their intentions were in the right place, but all of them got clouded by their own judgements… by their own emotions, including him. He chuckled bitterly, Janus was right in the courtroom all along.

‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘Oh, of course you don’t.’

Right now, it was impossible to deny that Janus has been right all along. He was feeling more than it was possible to express. Including a sense of relief when he walked down the corridor and noticed that all of the room doors were shut tight. Everyone must be wallowing in their own problems, so he wouldn’t need to speak to anyone apart from the one person he was genuinely concerned about. He reached Patton’s door and knocked softly three times, one long, two short. He heard a sigh from the other side of the door and he wasn’t expecting what he saw when the door swung open.

“Logan!” Patton shouted in an overly positive voice. His smile was plastered onto his face, as if he was wearing a mask. There was a soft, yellow glow around him and the room had the same glow. Almost as if it was covered in gold.

“I didn’t think I would see you today! We… didn’t exactly treat you very well earlier. I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with all of us for a while.” Logan stared at Patton, the smile didn’t falter… didn’t change at all. He knew that none of this was real. The mask was slipping, the voice didn’t match the ‘happy-pappy-Patton’ he knew. That’s when he realised, he needed to try and help.

“Is… there something you needed?” Patton laughed gently, but the gold outline around him was begin to crackle and his eyes were shifting back and forth, almost willing Logan to leave… practically begging him to leave. To let him fight this battle alone. Logan wasn’t going to let that happen. He took one step forward, gave Patton a soft smile and called out into the room.

“Patton, enough. Please. No more illusions.” His voice projected a sadness he didn’t even know he could feel. The fact that Patton needed to hide how he was feeling to such an extent, even from him, showed that the events that happened after he was removed must have been catastrophic.

Patton sighed once more, he bowed his head and the façade cracked, shattered and melted away. The gold outline started to fall from the ceiling. Patton began to disappear, leaving a gold shimmer in his place. The room fell into disrepair causing Logan to gasp. He knew that Patton kept a lot of different things in his room; photos, old books… pretty much any and all memories pertaining to Thomas. So to see such anger in a generally positive space, it was quite hard to look at. The books that were usually so delicately kept on bookshelves were tossed onto the floor, the dents in the wall showed the sheer force that some of them had been thrown across the room. Photos that were kept in piles based on the year they were taken were scattered carelessly around the entire wall. Frames with Thomas’ accomplishments were shattered, the things that Patton was proudest of, reduced to target practice. Logan claimed to not feel anything. The state of the room was a shock to be sure, but when he looked over at the bed, his heart broke right there on the spot.

He heard a small laugh, something that made him shudder as he saw Patton sit up on the bed. The sheets torn up, and the pillows ripped in half. His eyes were red raw from crying, his voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The cardigan normally lovingly wrapped around his shoulders was tossed into the bin, along with his polo shirt with his logo on it. A large hoodie covered him instead, he looked up at Logan, waiting for him to make some kind of comment.

“Now you see me, Logan.” He laughed in a monotonous way. Logan slowly took steps closer to the bed. He took his steps cautiously and Patton noticed the hesitation.

“I’ve hurt everyone… I- I couldn’t control myself. Janus was asking so many questions as you. I- I didn’t know the answers. I turned into Lilypadton. I hurt Thomas, something I swore I would never do. I’m supposed to be… good. I’m supposed to help protect him. I- I- I hurt you! I skipped things you were saying, I didn’t realise you were replaced. I didn’t mean to hurt everyone. I- I don’t know what to do… I’m a monster, Logan.” Patton’s body wracked with sobs, this uncontrollable pain radiated from him. As he started to glow a dark blue, Logan raced over and wrapped his arms around Patton as tight as he could.

Patton was rigid for a little while, but eventually he caved in and buried his head into Logan’s chest. He rubbed his back and told him repeatedly that everything was going to be okay. This was new for Logan, it’s been a long time since he felt this… helpless? He didn’t know if that was the right word, but he definitely felt unsure what to do. All he knew is that Patton needed him.

“Hey, listen to me. You must have been so overwhelmed and confused. Morality isn’t a cut and dry concept, you’re doing everything you can to help Thomas. Getting overwhelmed sometimes is nothing to be ashamed about. It’s part of nature. You can’t know everything the whole time. Thomas will end up in scenarios that will cause all of us to stumble and be uncertain.” He pushed Patton back so he could look him in the eyes and reassure him that things will be okay. He brushed his hair out of his face so he could look Patton right in the eyes. He couldn’t help but smile as Patton reluctantly looked up at him.

“You are not a monster. You can never think that, Patton. We’ve all made mistakes… but we grow as we go… we grow and learn with Thomas. No one thinks you’re a monster, least of all me. Okay?” Logan held Patton by the shoulders, and he seemed to relax more with every word. The tears were slowly stopping, but he could tell that Patton was trying to figure out how to say something. So he waited until he was ready.

“B- but, I hurt people. I hurt the people I care about most.” It was almost as if he was looking for any reason to keep beating himself up, to keep feeling miserable. Logan wasn’t having it.

“Patton, we’ve all been there. We’ve all hurt people, and we’ve been hurt in return. That’s just how things go. You are good, Patton. You apologised to Thomas, you worked out things out. You made some very clever observations about morality with Thomas. ‘A more mature person comes with more mature, moral questions…?’ Being able to admit that you don’t always know the answer, but you’ll still keep fighting anyway. Now that’s brave.” Patton smiled, it was a relief to see he smile and genuinely mean it this time. Logan wrapped his arms around Patton once again and he immediately hugged him back.

He had to admit, this was nice.

“I’m going to use yours and Thomas’ words against you. So bear with me… Look, Patton. You’re not perfect, just like the rest of us… but those imperfections, don’t make you any less worthy of love. I want you to remember that.” He could feel the happiness radiate off of Patton, there was a light blue glow surrounding him, and he pulled away from Logan.

“Thank you, Logan. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Logan smiled, it was nice to feel appreciated again. Despite everything, he felt infinitely better now.

“You’re most welcome, Patton. Would you like me to go now?” He secretly hoped the answer would be no. They needed each other, even if it was just for a night.

“Actually… Could you read to me? Can we carry on with Lord of the Rings?” Logan felt relieved and immediately grabbed his book off Patton’s bookshelf. He climbed onto the bed and waited for Patton to get comfortable next to him. He turned to the page they left off on while Patton eventually rested his head on Logan’s shoulder.

After a while, Patton fell asleep so Logan put the bookmark on the page and gently placed it on the table next to the bed. He carefully removed Patton’s glasses and took his off as well. As he drifted off to sleep as well, one last thought entered his mind.

Patton had his moments, but all in all, he was Logan’s hero too.

[retrievablememories]

somebody to hold | jaehyun

title: somebody to hold pairing: jaehyun x black!reader genre: angst request: “Hey could I request a Jaehyun in which he’s engaged and wants to propose to his fiancée who no one knows about because she’s black and she gets upset and wants to leave him for not showing her how much he loves her as well as her worth and he promises to find a date but still can’t bring himself to do so. Thank you!!“ word count: 3.4k warnings: cursing, some racial microagressions?, some pushing and shoving, but not between jaehyun/reader a/n: y’all plz… I hope everyone reading these fics realizes you don’t have to stay with any partner who is embarrassed to be with you 😭

Your engagement was supposed to be one of the most memorable days of your life, rivaled only by your actual wedding; at least that’s what your friends and family have told you in the past. You wanted to have that kind of commitment to someone else, and it crossed your mind in every relationship you’d been in. When you began dating Jaehyun, you allowed yourself to believe that this could be it, even with his career and the fans.

Lately, you’ve been more and more lost about why you wanted that so much from him, especially after the course of your relationship began to truly reveal itself. You’d prepared yourself for a hidden relationship and was even relieved that the entirety of Korea wouldn’t know all your business, but you also didn’t anticipate not even his group members or family knowing you were together.

You never quite expected things to be fairytale-like, but what you really wanted has quickly turned into something completely different.

And then, when you didn’t see it coming, you got your wish. Or at least a tiny piece of it.

Jaehyun had taken you to N Seoul Tower, which boasted the fence filled with locks that professed countless everlasting loves. It was possibly one of the most romantic spots in South Korea, which surprised you a bit because it wasn’t often you got to go to places like this. At least, not with him.

The air at the top of the tower was crisp and cold. You wanted Jaehyun to hold your hand, make you feel warm again even if everything else was freezing. However, you were hesitant to do so because of how he might react, or if any of the other couples milling around would recognize him. No one had given him much of a second glance with his disguise on, but there were a few lingering looks at you, which you actively tried to ignore.

Jaehyun was equally fearful about it, which he felt both ridiculous and guilty for. Most people who came up there were couples, so they could likely already guess your relationship to each other, though he still couldn’t bring himself to take your hand. Instead, he walked quietly beside you with his hands in his jacket pockets as you examined the many different locks secured to the fence. His fingers nudged repeatedly against the object buried in the bottom of his pocket, and he sighed quietly as his neck prickled with nervous sweat.

“Aw, this one’s cute.” You pointed to a lock shaped like a sunflower with a smiling face. “Maybe we should’ve brought one.”

“We can do it next time,” Jaehyun told you, his mouth sticking with dryness. He didn’t know if he’d ever felt quite this terrified.

You stared at him. “…Are you okay?” Even though you could only see his eyes, they looked to be ablaze with energy. Not a good or excited energy, but a panicked kind.

Jaehyun thought over his plan, felt the box brushing against his fingers, looked back into your eyes. Maybe now was the right time—shouldn’t he do it while he has your full attention? He opened his mouth to answer, though he didn’t know what he could say. Though he’d thought over his mini-speech many times before, he felt like he was currently short-circuiting.

Should he get on his knee anyway? His body felt too stiff with fear to do so. Your expression changed to one of concern. Maybe the right moment had already passed. “Uh, I’m fine. It’s just…cold out here,” he replied.

You laughed a little unenthusiastically; you thought he might’ve meant he wanted to leave already. “Well, we won’t be out here forever.” Jaehyun nodded, his face burning at being unable to say anything to you.

You both stayed there a while longer, exploring more of the locks and even taking a few pictures. You wished you could’ve had a few photos of Jaehyun without his mask, but you didn’t bother with asking him to take it off for a moment, knowing what the response would likely be.

The trek down the stairs was a long one, but you eventually got to the end of your journey, though you were both a bit winded afterwards.

“So, what do you want to eat?” you asked, turning to Jaehyun once you’d gotten to the bottom of the stairs. You leaned on him so you could fix your shoe, figuring this contact wouldn’t matter since no one else was currently around.

For a moment, he stared at the side of your face as you concentrated on readjusting your shoe. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to finally say his next words, but they came out anyway.

“Will you marry me?” he blurted out. You looked up at him in shock, nearly stumbling as you regained your footing. Jaehyun seemed startled after saying it, but he didn’t take it back, even as your eyes grew big.

“What are you saying?” You tried to laugh, wondering if this was some kind of prank, but you didn’t think it was a very funny one if so. You looked around the area, seeing if there could be any hidden cameras nearby. As you did this, Jaehyun fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small black box. When you looked at him again, you were surprised by it. “Wait…”

“I’m sorry for doing it like this, but…” Jaehyun opened the box, and there was a gem inside — a diamond ring. If nothing else, you felt dumbfounded. Part of you wondered why he was doing this at the bottom of some snowy, wet stairs when he could’ve done the same on top of the tower, in a much more fitting location. But you reasoned it away as him not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, even if there was a continual tugging at your heart.

Tears gathered in your eyes, though you weren’t sure if they were entirely happy ones. “Y-yes. I will.”

Jaehyun took your hand and gently slid the ring onto your finger. You both looked down at it for a moment as if in disbelief. Was this real? But it was.

You approached Jaehyun and wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his winter jacket. He hugged you back tightly, letting himself openly show his affection in public for once. You held onto that moment for as long as you possibly could, trying to blink away your tears.

Back then, despite the unconventional way the actual proposal went down, you’d thought for sure that Jaehyun was going to tell his bandmates and company about you. There would be no way to keep an entire wedding secret from them, and you wanted nothing less. You wanted everything a wedding could offer—the big white dress, the guest list, the multi-tiered cake, the thoughtful wedding gifts. And yet, 6 months later, you’re still in the same spot you were in before. Practically nonexistent and still with no clue of when you’re supposed to get married.

You look at Jaehyun from across the dinner table in your home, trying not to let your irritation increase, though it seems impossible to ignore. Him sitting there so casually aggravates you. The fact that he doesn’t know how you feel annoys you. You don’t want to tell him because you feel like he should already know, but you also know nothing will be solved if you don’t speak. And yet, how many times have you brought it up already to no answer?

Jaehyun notices you staring at him instead of eating your food, and he sets his utensils down, looking concerned. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

 “It seems like you don’t truly love me,” you say bluntly, looking at him closely. He sits back in his chair, unnerved by your declaration. 

“How can you say that? What have I done to make you think that?”

“How can I, indeed. It’s been months since you proposed, and you still haven’t agreed on a date for us to get married. It doesn’t make any sense. Did you propose because you wanted to, or because you felt you had to?” you ask quietly.

“Had to?” Jaehyun sits up straighter at that implication. “Why would I have to propose to you? I did it because I love you and want to be with you!”

“I don’t know. You tell me. We’ve been together for almost 3 years now, and still no one in your life knows I even exist. Maybe you finally felt a little guilt about it and wanted to do things properly.”

Jaehyun’s expression tells you that you must be right, to some extent. He’s upset, but there’s also no mistaking the remorse on his face. “I just—” He tries to pick his words carefully, not wanting to make you more mad than you already are, though going down that path seems to be inevitable tonight. “I’m trying to give you what you want, and I know it’s been a long time…”

“You haven’t even ‘given me what I want’ yet. And are you saying that you don’t want this?”

“No, that’s not—God, I can’t think properly. You just brought this up all of a sudden!”

“So now you’re going to blame this on me?” You get up from the table and take your plate to the kitchen, your appetite now gone. 

“I’m not blaming anything on you, but how would you feel if I sprang this on you with no warning? Getting married doesn’t just happen with the snap of your fingers.”

You turn to look back at Jaehyun, a look of disgust and disbelief coloring your features. “I wouldn’t feel anything, because you’d never do it, because I seem to be the only one here who actually wants to be married.”

Jaehyun follows you into the kitchen, and you linger at the other kitchen entrance that leads into the hallway. You’re already tired of hearing his excuses and just want to end this fruitless debate.

“You can’t say that. You don’t know how I feel about this, but I swear to you, I want to be married too.”

You walk to the bedroom, feeling increasingly irritated at the conversation. Your mood only worsens as Jaehyun follows you there, too. You know he’s not going to leave you alone now that you’ve brought the whole issue up, but you really want him to get out of your face before you truly go off on him.

“Y/N!” he pleads.

You finally look him in the eyes again, frowning deeply. “Prove it right now. If you love me, tell me a date when we can finally get married.”

“Now? I can’t just—”

“I really don’t want to hear that. You’ve had 6 months to think it over. If not a day, give me a damn month, at least! Can you even do that?” You put your hands on your hips and wait for his response.

“I…” Jaehyun racks his brain for something but comes up short. For him, the problem isn’t just the lack of time for a decent wedding, but the fact that he’d have to figure out when and how to tell everyone else his plans. And that is something he’s very wary of doing.

“Just like I thought.” You turn away from Jaehyun and start dressing down for the night, practically ignoring his presence. He watches as you take your jewelry off, confusion and distress lingering in his mind. 

“Y/N, I promise I can come up with a date if you just give me some time…”

“I think it’s best if you go back to the dorm tonight.” You cross your arms, glaring at his reflection in your dresser mirror.

Jaehyun looks like he wants to argue, but he also knows he doesn’t really want to stay here while you’re this pissed at him. His hands fall to his sides in defeat.

“You should be grateful this is all I’m doing,” you spit. “I’m just about ready to call it quits. I’m not impressed with being thrown to the side, Jaehyun; no woman would be.”

“I’m not trying to throw you to the side,” he says meekly, though he also knows he can’t argue too hard with this one. He knows he hasn’t given you even an ounce of the treatment you actually want or deserve.

You don’t respond to his argument, and he figures now is probably the time to make his exit. He lingers at the door for a moment, staring at your back and trying to think of what he should say. Or if he should say anything at all. When you don’t turn back to look at him, he sighs quietly and leaves the room—and your home.

The ride back to the dorm is uncomfortable. He turns the radio up to drown out your words that still cycle around in his mind, but that does nothing to stop them from tormenting him. He’s exhausted by the time he gets back to the dorm, worn out from the effort of trying to stop thinking about your words and also considering what he should say to you the next time he sees you. He knows what he should do, but he isn’t sure if he can do it.

Jungwoo immediately notices Jaehyun’s sour demeanor once he gets to their room, and he watches as the other man despondently readies himself for sleep. “What’s wrong? You’re upset,” he eventually asks, when Jaehyun doesn’t say anything of his own volition.

“It’s nothing.” Jaehyun plops down on his bed stomach-down, feeling defeated and emotionally exhausted.

“It’s obviously something, though. Wouldn’t you feel better if you talked about it?”

Jaehyun only mumbles in response, keeping his face in the pillow. He’s not even sure where his engagement ring is at; he’s never worn it since the day he got it, as it’s too risky. He’s afraid he’ll soon have yours back in his possession too, thrown at him or shipped off to him in a box.

Jungwoo sighs, figuring he won’t get a response tonight. Over time, he’s been observant enough to realize that Jaehyun is likely in a relationship—just by the way he acts and the times he’s spent away with “friends"—though Jungwoo has never asked about it. And the other man has never brought it up, so he figures he’d be better off minding his business. Jungwoo turns the lights off and rolls over in his bed, thinking maybe he’ll try again later.

Your plan will probably end up with you escorted off the premises at best—and without a boyfriend at worst—but you don’t know what other option to choose for getting Jaehyun to acknowledge your wants and needs. Therefore, you dress in your best outfit and head for SM Entertainment’s building, lying in wait for his appearance.

You already know his schedule for today, with him promising that he’d come over after practice to work some details out. You also know that his promise is just another bunch of airy words with no intentions behind them. So when you see him and a few other members come out of the back of the building to head to their manager’s van, you spring out of your car and walk up to them.

Jaehyun is ironically the first one to spot you, and he freezes when he does. The others follow suit, staring at you with varying expressions of confusion. You’re still walking towards them, and Jaehyun takes a few steps to you before he can stop himself from doing so.

“Why are you here?” he asks, looking around in a panic. 

“I came so you can make your decision right here and now. Fuck waiting until ‘after practice.’ I’m tired of you lying to me.”

“Y/N, please help me out here. We don’t have to do it like this, yeah? Now isn’t a good time,” he begs quietly, lightly grasping your shoulder and trying to steer you away from the others.

“Who’s she?” Yuta asks, his eyebrows furrowed. Before either of you can answer, the manager shoves his way between you and Jaehyun and nearly knocks you over while trying to get you away from him.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” you scream.

“Don’t touch her.” Jaehyun pushes his manager back, maybe a little more aggressively than he intended, and the other man stares at him in surprise as he stumbles back. The other members watch the show, trying to figure out what’s happening and how you even know each other.

“Isn’t this some crazed fan? Why are you protecting her?” the manager says.

“I obviously know her,” Jaehyun sighs in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you hear a word we were saying?”

You brush yourself off, angrily readjusting your purse that you almost dropped in the commotion. “While this clown is clearing the shit out of his ears, you need to tell me what your plans are. There’s no more time left to draw this mess out.”

“Really, who is this?” Taeyong adds in.

“Are you Jaehyun’s girlfriend?” Jungwoo asks, and the others look at him like he’s been an accomplice in the secret Jaehyun’s been keeping.

“At least someone here has the sense to realize it. Why don’t you do the honors, huh?” You look at Jaehyun, crossing your arms. His jaw tenses at being put on the spot, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. He turns to face the others.

“Yes, this is my girlfriend…Y/N.” The manager doesn’t bother to hide his unadulterated shock, and you glance at him in disgust.

You chime in with, “Yes. The girlfriend he’s been hiding for almost 3 years straight and still refuses to pick a wedding date for.”

“Wedding?!” The manager and at least one other member vocalize this at the same time.

“So, what do you say?” You press on, determined to get an answer from him today. “Say it clearly, and I’ll make my decision from there.”

Decision? Jaehyun knows you are already halfway out the door, and he understands that whatever response he gives could potentially ruin what you both have left of the relationship. His heart pounds and his mind races. The manager puts his hands on his hips, also eager to hear Jaehyun’s answer so he can report it back to the others at SM if it’s not the one he wants.

“Y/N…I’m so sorry.” Jaehyun’s voice cracks, and he nervously clears his throat. “I-I don’t think we can do this. It’s just…not the right timing, and m-maybe it would be better if we could wait a bit more, at least until—”

“How long do you think I will wait for you?” you interrupt, your voice trembling. You step away from him. “It doesn’t matter. I see this is how it’s going to be.” You turn your back to him to walk back to your car, unwilling to hear more.

“Wait!” Jaehyun walks after you. The manager’s voice is tight with anger as he calls for Jaehyun to come back, but the younger man doesn’t listen. When you get into your car, Jaehyun lingers at your door, trying to convince you to roll down the window. Rolling your eyes, you do so.

“Y/N. You have to understand,” Jaehyun insists, gripping onto the window glass. “What can I do? The company, the group—” He stops speaking when you lift up your ring and hold it out to him. He doesn’t want to take it, but you’re not leaving with it still on your finger; so he lets you press it into his palm, the metal still warm from its time spent on your hand.

You give him a long look, as if memorizing his face one last time. “Don’t show your face to me again until you’re 100% sure you’re ready. But Jaehyun, I’ll tell you this—don’t be surprised if I’m long gone by then.”

Jaehyun watches as you pull off and leave him standing there, ashamed and saddened.

[beauvibaby]

need you - f.andersen

a/n: leave it up to me to write an emotional af Freddie fic at 9 o’clock on a Sunday morning 🙃 ok but honestly a pt.2 for this??? I’d be down to write it if you’d read it

warnings: death of parent, funeral talk, and soft!Freddie (lets be real we need a warning for that)

Word count: 3k

You stared blankly at the screen, the number flashing across your mothers phone, you just got here, it couldn't happen so fast, there’s no way. No one could move, your brother sat beside you already balling his fists, trying to hold back the tears as your mother started calling out for your father, who we all knew was gone now. You finally picked up the phone at the last second, answering before it could go to voicemail. “Is this Mrs. Y/L/N?” The nurse from the hospice center spoke coldly, you’re heart broke, “this is her daughter.” You answered, hands shaking, the words she muttered you didn't think you’d ever forget. “I’m sorry to tell you that Mr. Y/L/N passed at 6:47 this evening.” Her voice was level, you couldn't blame her, she probably made these calls everyday, but still anger coursed through you. Not at her, but at everything, at life, at god. Why would he take your father so soon? He was only 60, far too young to have suffered for over ten years the way he did. “We’re on our way.” You managed to whisper out as your mother clung to you, she screamed your dads name, as if he would appear, as if he would have never left. But, we all knew that wasn't the case. You couldn't bring yourself to cry, as horrible as it sounded, you were almost relieved, that he wouldn't suffer anymore, that you wouldn't have to watch him struggle to walk from one side of the house to the other without losing his breath. The car ride to the hospice center was a long one, despite your sister in law running nearly every red light to get there. Your mom cried the whole time, your brother angrily stared out the window, guilt eating at him for not spending more time with his father before he left. You, you just sat there, sadness rushing through your veins as you still couldn't bring the tears to fall, you watched out the window as the god forsaken building came into view, all that you could hear as you expertly made your way down the hallways were the last words you’re father told you before he was too out of it to communicate. 

“I love you, baby, take care of your brother, okay?” 

“Of course, daddy, I love you too.” 

That was three days ago, the day they told you it was lung cancer, the day you came rushing over from work because the doctor needed to talk to the whole family. The day you called your brother and told him your dad was going to die, the day you went home and cried yourself to sleep on the floor with the dog, who himself was whining, already knowing that his favorite person was never going to come home. Your mind went to Freddie as you walked in, he was away, the hockey season had just started, and you told him your dad wasn't doing good, but you didn't admit to him just how bad, thinking you surely had a couple of weeks left, you knew Freddie would leave in a heartbeat to come be with you, and your mother who he had grown to love almost as much as his own. 

You entered the room, freezing in the doorway as you saw him laid out on the bed, you knew what to expect, you knew what he would look like, you had seen your grandmother like this just a year before, but it made your gut wrench to see your dad so lifeless, the color already leaving his skin. “I’m gonna be sick.” You mumbled, rushing towards the bathroom, your brother tried to follow you to make sure you were okay, but you locked the bathroom door. You heard your mom telling him to let it go, knowing it wouldn't do anything but make it worse for you. You kneeled over the toilet, crying as you emptied your stomach. Instant relief hitting you, but after you flushed it, you sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, sobbing, finally, letting the emotions out. You tearfully pulled your phone out, eyes blurry with water as you shakily dialed Freddie’s number, you knew it was the middle of the game, he wouldn't see this for another hour or two at least, but you needed to tell him now, before the funeral planning got underway. As you figured, the phone call went to voicemail. “Freddie,” you paused, letting out a cry, knowing it was going to kill him, but you couldn't help it, “he’s gone, and, I-I-uh-I need you, please.” You whimpered into the phone hanging up right after. You didn't want to go through personally telling all your friends so as tacky as it might seem, you posted a picture of you and your father from when you were little, writing a simple caption, “heaven gained another angel tonight, love you always daddy” posting it and silencing your phone as you rinsed your mouth, walking out to join your grieving family. Your brother was by the window, his wife draped over his back, as if she could absorb his sadness. Your mother sat blankly by the foot of the bed, hardly being able to look at her husband laid there like that. “I love you, mom.” You whispered sitting beside her, you were the rock of the family, always, so she didn't hesitate to rest her head on her shoulder as she started crying for the millionth time tonight. You once again sat blankly, staring at your shoes, not wanting to imprint the image further into your brain. 

***

You had all since gone back to your house, you went straight to your fathers office, already starting to sort through things, you knew you should take a moment, you knew you should let yourself grieve, but you couldn't. You took a garbage bag from the kitchen, bringing it with you and shutting yourself in there, your brother came in for a while, only telling you what he wanted to take back home with him for his kids. You gave him those items and he let you be, he was never good with his emotions, let alone dealing with yours. You had forgotten to turn your ringer back up on your phone so when you pulled it out to check the time you were shocked to see seven missed calls from Freddie, but one message that made relief hit you like a truck. 

“I’m coming, the plane lands in thirty minutes.” That was sent well over an hour ago, only then did you realize it was nearing one am, you walked out of the office, your sister in law and brother sitting on the couch watching some Adam Sandler movie, your mother had gone to bed, the dog trailing along with her, keeping her company as if he could feel the pain radiating off of her. “Freddie will be here soon.” You announced softly, your brother nodded blankly, he got along well enough with Freddie, but you knew deep down Freddie had a certain level of disrespect for your brother, seeing how poorly he has treated you in the past, but Freddie was more of a man despite being younger than your brother, so you knew he wouldn't act on it. You sat down on the love seat, not wanting to be near them, but not wanting to be alone again, your mind wandered as you thought of how well Freddie and your dad had gotten along, it always made you happy, and your dad had been the one to realize you two would last before even you did. “You’re going to marry him one day, Y/N, wether I’m here or not, just know that I love him.” That memory brought tears to your eyes, and you shot up when you saw headlights outside, the uber dropping Freddie off in front of your house. You ran out the door, not caring how loud you were. “Freddie!” You shouted, making him whip around in the dark as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. He nearly dropped it down to the ground, not caring as he rushed to meet you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, baby, so so sorry.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head repeatedly as you began to cry against him, “I wish I had been here, but I’m not going anywhere now, I promise.” He added making you nod against him, he shuffled to grab his bag with you still clung to him. “Come on, love, it’s cold outside, let’s go inside.” He shushed you, carefully walking with his free arm around you as the other pulled his suitcase along. 

You entered the house, finally loosening your grip on him as Max your dog came barreling out of the room, tail thumping in excitement at the sight of your boyfriend. He reached down to pet the dog as you stayed glued to his side, not wanting to release the comforting grip he had on you. He slowly let go of you to greet your brother and sister in law, you let out an inaudible whimper when he let go of you, as soon as he released you he was back to you. Wrapping you up in his hold again as your brother and his wife made their way to the guest room. “Did you want to get some sleep?” He asked softly, toying with your hair as you nuzzled your face into his neck. You nodded softly, allowing him to lead you to your room, he knew this house like the back of his hand, “wait.” You muttered all of a sudden, letting go of him and walking into your dads office, you took the framed photo of you and him, bringing it into your room and placing it on your dresser, Freddie smiled softly pressing a soft kiss to your temple, before pulling out one of his shirts for you. “I know you’re going to want to take a shower.” He whispered, also knowing your routine like his own, you always wanted to shower after a long day, so you gave him a quick kiss, before trudging into the bathroom.

You let yourself get lost in the shower, meanwhile Freddie quietly made his way to your dads office, he went straight towards the closet, opening the doors slowly as he knew otherwise they would squeak, and he carefully opened the filing cabinet, and could tell by the later of dust on the handle that it probably hadn’t been touched since the day your father showed it to him. He reached in and felt around in the dark, letting out a relieved breath as he felt the small box. He pulled it out, and his eyebrows knit together as their was a note folded up and taped to it. He quickly opened it up, after checking to make sure the ring was still securely in the box, he smiled down at it, it was your grandmothers, and it was ko seceret to anyone that you wanted it to be your engagement ring. He had talked to your father months ago when he started going down hill, and he told Freddie where he hid the ring.

“Alright, Freddie, if you’re reading this note, obviously I didn’t stick around long enough to see this moment. You know you have my blessing to marry Y/N, you treat her better than I ever could’ve imagined, don’t let her go, son. Hold on tight to her... if you’re reading this the day I pass, which knowing my daughter you will be, in fear of her getting rid of the filling cabinet with this still in it. Hold on to this ring, give her some time, you’ll know when the moment is right.”

Freddie couldn’t help but let out a tearful chuckle at the so blatantly forward note your father had left, he heard the shower turn off and quickly made his way out of there, hiding the ring and the note in his suitcase. He changed into some sleeping clothes as your feet started padding down the hallway, “come here.” He whispered, laying back on the bed, you threw your dirty clothes into the corner, not caring enough to do anything else as you crawled in beside him, his large shirt fitting you like a short dress. You pushed your wet hair back and laid your head on his chest, “I love you, Freddie.” You whispered, tracing the pattern on his shirt, “I love you, Y/N.” He sighed in return, giving you an extra squeeze, silently telling you he’d always be here, no matter what.

And it’s true, he was, through all the funeral planning, through both your mother and your own breakdowns, he sat between you too at the funeral, you curled into his side, well he held your moms hand tightly, doing his best to comfort you both as your brother spiraled. He did everything you asked him too and then some, you mentioned needing to grocery shopping, and he offered, not giving you the chance to say no, but you went with him, needing to be out of the house, but he did it all. When your sister in law made the executive decision to have your two young nieces at the funeral-something you completely disagreed with-he helped entertain them, play with them, wiped their tears away when your brother was too busy in his own head to notice. Anyone who had seen the two of you doing all this would think it was your own family, and that made your heart break even more as it was the night after the funeral. Your brother and his family staying until the morning before making the four hour drive back to their home, you woke to a soft knock on your door. Freddie was out like a light, and he deserved to be, handling all these emotions by himself, so you carefully slid out of his grip, not noticing how he stirred when you did so. You opened the door and frowned as you saw your oldest niece, who was still only 7 standing in your doorway, her stuffed animal hugged to her chest, and tears littering her cheeks. “Sweetie, are you okay?” You soothed, kneeling down to her height, she shook her head, “mommy and daddy were arguing, I couldn’t sleep.” She explained to you and you had to hold back a sigh at how ridiculous your brother and his wife were. “Can I stay with you and uncle Freddie?” She whimpered, and your heart burst, she’d never called him that before. “Of course.” Freddie called from the bed, making you jump a little, “come on.” You held your hand out, she took it and followed you into the room, you turned your bedside lamp on, knowing she was scared of the dark. She climbed into the bed and instantly looked exhausted as she became sandwiched between you and your longtime boyfriend. He smiled when she pulled his hand to be on her, he kissed the top of her head, and then did the same to you, calming your nerves as you watched her breathing even out and her eyes rest peacefully.

“Uncle Freddie has a nice ring to it.” You whispered, he let out a breathy laugh, glancing down at the peacefully sleeping girl, he adored them, and it never failed to make your heart swell, he fit right in with your family. “It does.” He answered, thinking of how it will become permanent when he proposes to you in the morning.

***

You woke to both of your nieces jumping onto you, you let a groan out dramatically as you got smothered. “Good morning to you too, girls.” You teased, tickling their sides as you looked up to see Freddie in the doorway. “Girls, can you give me and aunt Y/N a minute?” He asked and they nodded, scurrying out of your room, you pushed yourself up in the bed, smiling at your boyfriend. He brought you a cup of coffee and placed it on your nightstand before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Good morning.” He whispered, fingers tangled in your messy hair. You smiled, your first genuine smile in almost a week as you took in the man before you, “good morning.” You responded happily, of course your heart still ached, but it was always easier to get through it when Freddie was here. “I don’t know if it’s the right time, and I don’t have a whole speech prepared, but this is just something I feel like I have to do.” He trailed off, going over to his suitcase, you furrowed your brows, watching him mutter to himself before standing triumphantly. The second he turned and you saw the oh so familiar red box, your heart skipped a beat, your eyes welled up with tears, for the first time in a long time, they were for good reasons. Your hands shot to your mouth as he nervously kneeled beside the bed, “yes!” You shrieked out, he shook his head in laughter, “can I ask first baby?” He joked, but you muttered an oh shit before nodding. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He skipped the whole spcheel, and you didn’t need to hear it anyways, just what he’s done for you and your family in the past week has shown how much he loves you. “Yes!” You shrieked out again, nearly tackling him to the ground in a hug, you peppered kisses all over his face before finally landing on his lips, giving him a kiss full of love. “Where’d you find it?” You questioned, you’d been looking for the ring for years, and your dad always said it was in a safe place. Freddie slipped the diamond ring on your finger, and of course, it fit perfectly. You looked up at him through your lashes as he did so, seeing the focus on his face as he did such a simple, life changing task. “Your dad told me where he hid it a few months ago.” Freddie admitted and you couldn’t help but let a laugh fall from your lips, that was so something he would do, “of course he did.”

Taglist: @thathockeygirl @literarycharleton

[valwrite]

hide & seek; daveed diggs

masterlist

summary: Y/N L/N can´t keep a promise. (sequel to leap frog & hopscotch)

warnings: cushion violence.

fic style: drabble.

word count: 1807

author’s note: this is the third and final drabble from the leap frog series. sorry that it’s kind of short and not really as good as the other two, i’ve got a bit of writer’s block right now. like, i have tons of ideas of what i would like to write but, when i try to write, my brain forgets the whole english dictionary and is just like “qué?”.

It was official. Rafael Casal was going to kill Daveed Diggs and Y/N L/N.

The sun had barely risen an hour ago; the air was still crisp with the chill of the night; some people were just making their way home, exhaustion and last night's makeup painting their face, and there Rafa was stood, phone pressed to his ear whilst his fist banged against the oak door repeatedly. He'd spent fifteen minutes in the very same predicament, alternating between calling Daveed and Y/N. Neither of the two were picking up despite the fact he was sure he could hear their phones ringing from indoors.

It was typical, honestly, for the two to pull such a stunt on him. The poor man was juggling having to worry about his friends whereabouts and his own health, which was progressively slipping away from him as his stress levels grew from having both their close relatives breathing down the back of his neck and questioning him on where exactly the two could have disappeared to.

When they both had first agreed to spending the night apart, Rafa was quick to laugh in their faces and tell them they'd find themselves crawling back to the other by the end of the night. Hell, the two barely survived nights apart brought on by work- Rafa had once walked in to Daveed's hotel room and found him asleep whilst Y/N slept on his propped up phone screen, nothing but FaceTime to unite them during their time apart- so how in the name of Hell would they willingly choose to sleep without one another? The satisfaction of his impending "I told you so" was the only thing keeping Rafa going.

“Screw this." He muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Crouching, Rafa picked up a few of the plant pots that decorated the front porch until he found the hidden key.

Quietly, and carefully, he turned the key in the lock. When the door opened, he pushed through slowly and held his breath, awaiting for it to squeak. A squeak never came, meaning two things: Daveed must have fixed the door and Rafa was safe to continue venturing into the home. Of course, he had to continue with the slowed movements and the careful breathing. The last thing he needed was to wake up the couple's four legged friend, that would only lead to an influx of tail wagging and puppy kisses being branded all over him. No, Rafa had to treat this like the most serious game of hide and seek he'd ever taken part in, on the off chance that Daveed was actually alone. The man was never a morning person, so being the person to wake him up, whether by accident or on purpose, was practically a suicide mission. Add that in with a reminder of the fact he'd (possibly) slept alone, Daveed was not going to be a happy bunny.

Rafa made his way through the living room where his eyes couldn't help but focus on the picture frames scattered along their television unit. They held so many stories, most of which he'd been present for and some he'd just been told about by the couple.

There was the cheesy one of them under some mistletoe on their first Christmas together, where Daveed had accidentally tripped over his own two feet and landed chest first into the cake she'd spent the whole day baking. There was the picture from a Warriors match they'd gone to, where Y/N spent most the night near drooling over the players and Daveed had silently prayed he still had a girlfriend by the end of the game. A candid photo of the both of them at some music festival, arms around each other and heads resting on shoulders. A collage section, filled with each cringe worthy matching Halloween costumes they'd worn. A picture of Daveed in a hospital bed, cast around his arm and Y/N sat at his side, their hairs still tousled from the kiss Rafa had walked in on before capturing the moment in a photo. At the time, they'd told him to delete it but the man was adamant they'd thank him one day when they were getting married and they realized that, without his meddling, the two of them would have never ended up on that date, in that hospital room.

With one of those things nearly down, Rafa was just counting down the hours till they came to the epiphany of his involvement in their love blossoming.

As he made his way out of the living room, the sound of a squeaky toy invaded his senses. Confused, Rafa looked down to see he'd stood on one of the dog's toys. All movement froze. He waited a couple heartbeats, to see if the pup had awakened. When no fur-ball came running his way, he assumed it was safe to move again.

The kitchen was up next. Rafa held back a laugh at the matching Mr & Mrs aprons which were hung up, mentally storing the reminder to mock them about it in his speech later on. A cupboard was slowly pulled open, a large bowl- in which countless of his favorite goodies were made by top baker Y/N- was lowered out of it and the tap was switched on, water trickling out of it and directly into the dish he was holding up.

Rafa now had to move more carefully than ever, his eyes flicking back and forth between the floor in front of him and the sloshing water in the bowl. But he had made his way safely up the stairs, down the hall and, now, he was finally rounding the corner to their shared bedroom. He could see the door had been left half open and, like the most tense scene in a thriller, Rafa took one step, two steps, three steps before he stumbled upon the exact image he'd been awaiting.

There they lay in bed, all shamelessly tangled up in silk sheets and limbs. His head on her pillow, her face buried in his neck. Casual sleepwear adorned them both- much to Rafa's own relief - whilst their outfits from the night before were strewn across the whole room. Each of their chests rose and fell in sync with one another, their breathing more peaceful than that of a monk. They so perfectly detailed what it meant to wholeheartedly be in love with someone, with no real effort whatsoever. It was such a shame Rafa was about to ruin their whole picture perfect sleep.

Eyeing the dog bed, Rafa affirmed that the pup was peacefully off in dreamland, with no sign of waking up and ruining his little surprise. He tiptoed from there onward, making his way around the king sized bed, stepping over abandoned cushions and swerving between articles of clothing. Panic coursed through him as Daveed let out a groan, rolling over where he lay. When the man's eyes remained shut, Rafa continued his careful journey to his best friend's bedside. After snapping a few pictures of the sleeping, unsuspecting fools, he lifted the bowl of water, carefully balancing it over them with his hands.

The first few drops fell onto the pillow, but the rest? They completely soaked Daveed and Y/N (mostly Daveed, he was Rafa's main target after all) and sent them both flying out of bed, eyes still half shut and wet hair dripping water all over the place. The first thing they noticed was Rafa, bent over at the waist, hand clutching his sides as laughter shook through his rib-cage.

“What the fuck, dude?” Y/N was the first one to speak, as she picked up and threw one of the cushions at Rafa, who smoothly ducked from her aim.

“What time is it?” Daveed had sat back on the bed at this point, shoulders hunched as he tried to find his phone.

“It's eight am.” Rafa passed him his phone. “And don't you what the fuck? me." He put on a high pitched voice as he addressed Y/N, dodging another one of her cushion attacks.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You do in my head.” Another cushion, this time it actually whacked him on the thigh. “I told you guys you wouldn't sleep apart and you two agreed to the bet, the forfeit being I get to dump a bowl of water over you both.”

“Hey, this isn't my fault.” Daveed stood up again, reaching for a pair of sweatpants off the floor. The bundle of fur had woken up by then, barking at Y/N's feet until she reached down to pick him up. “I was here alone last night, ready to sleep alone when she showed up at the door. She forced me to lose.”

“Oh, please!” Rafa was glad to see Y/N redirect her flying cushions at Daveed. “You practically dragged me into bed last night. I didn't force anything on you.”

“It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to turn away a tired woman at my door.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

“I brought it back just for you, babe.”

The buzzing of his phone in his pocket reminded Rafa of the fact that this was no ordinary day, where the two idiots in front of him had the entire morning to have meaningless arguments. Today, they were all on a strict schedule and Rafa was half responsible for making sure it all went well.

“As fun as this is,” He paused, redirecting his complete attention to Y/N. “you have a car waiting for you outside, to take you back to your parents home to get ready. So, with all due respect, fuck off and let me get D ready for you.”

“Fine, whatever, I'm going.” He could tell she wasn't really as bothered as she tried to seem, especially from the way her shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. “Be warned, Rafa, if you try take credit for our relationship in your speech, I will not hesitate to deck you in front of my whole family. Capiche?”

“You know, it's not too late to change your mind, Y/N. There's still a chance to rekindle our old flame and reenact that kiss we shared years ago.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!” Daveed made his way over to Y/N's side and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “That's my wife you're speaking to.”

“Not yet, Diggs.” Rafa grabbed at the other man's arm, stripping him away from Y/N as the two tried to share a kiss. “Save that for the altar, you two.”

The couple collectively let out a frustrated sigh as Rafa guided her out of the house, both aware of the fact that the next time they locked eyes, they'd be swearing eternal fidelity and love to one another and, as much as neither would admit it out loud, they owed it all to Rafa and his gossiping ways.

[wheezy-kasp-brak]

Team Zero (Hargreeves Siblings x Sibling Reader)

Summary: After being sent back in time and finding their father, the eight academy kids have ‘A Light Supper’ with him.

A/N: This is a really gross, unedited page because I really wanted to write this scene. I wrote this in only a few hours and I think I could’ve done a crap ton better but I really wanted to post this so...

Warnings: season two spoilers, mild swearing

Word count 2589

gif credit to @tuagifs​

After the draining argument with their siblings, the last thing y/n expected to receive was a letter from their father. 

To my pursuers, 

I, Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, half past seven o’clock, 1624 Magnolia Street.

They had received the letter from a strange man in a black car. At first, y/n hesitated to believe it was really from their father but they knew their father better than anyone, even Luther despite what he thinks.

The level of extra Reginald went through to get this letter to them told them all they needed to know so, on the 20th of November, 1963, they arrived at 1624 Magnolia Street just before half past seven. 

The building was a tall hotel and the decor very much fit the era they were living in. They wandered towards the back where they slipped in an elevator next to their brother five. Not too soon after, their other siblings joined them in the small box. 

“Good, you’re all here” Five face sported his usual smirk and his body language screamed cocky arrogant asshole however, everyone remained quiet on the lift up to the highest floor. 

That was until a rather rancid smell reached their noses. “Ugh.. Luther!” 

“Sorry, I’m nervous.” The group covered their noses until the doors finally opened, allowing them to take a deep breath of fresh air. 

“Alright, when dad gets here, I’ll do the talking.” Fives natural attempt to assert himself failed quickly when Diego snapped back. 

“I got a few questions for him myself.” 

Y/n rolled their eyes. The seven of them never seemed to be able to enter a room without starting some kind of fight or argument. “Hey, we don’t wanna scare him off alright, he might be able to help us stop doomsday, get us home.”

“No Five, we need to figure out why he’s planning to kill the president.” It’s amazing how hung up on the presidents assassination Diego is, why can’t he just let this go? 

“This is a matter of life or death you imbecile.” Sensing that their other siblings were about to chime in, y/n zoned themselves out. Y/n isn’t exactly what you called a team player. They chose to stay quiet and disassociate themselves from their family. Sick of the overbearing weight of having to save the world when they could be doing other things, like being a normal person. 

Unfortunately for them, they were soon snapped out of their focused state by a loud crash. What appeared to be some kind of decoration was found shattered in small pieces on the other side of the room. 

“Classic.” Allison spit. They all turned their heads when they heard another noise. The doors to the ‘Tiki Lounge” swung open revealing a younger Hargreeves. His posture stood tall and didn’t give them a single glance until he sat at the table, adjusting his sleeves.

“Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have on numerous occasions, called me...”

Klaus finally joined the table with what seemed like some alcoholic beverage. “Hey Pop. How’s it hangin’?

“...dad.” His voice was stern, slightly scary, but more just assertive. The seven children took a moment to all create eye contact before returning to their younger father. 

“My reconnaissance tells me you’re not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so...” he paused to slam his pen to the desk, “who are you?” Everyone stayed silent trying to find the right words before five cut in again. 

“We’re your children,” Reginald gave him a displeased look, “We’re from the future.” Dear old Reggie didn’t seem all too happy with the idea of having children, so when the group stayed silent once again y/n finally spoke up from their seat. 

“In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world. You called us the umbrella academy.” The sudden joining of the conversation brought all the attention to them. It surprised the rest of their siblings, seeing as y/n normally just minded their own business. However, they supposed this was their business. 

“Why on earth would I adopt seven-”

“Eight. One of us isn’t here.” Allison corrected.

“Dead. One of us is dead.” Diego filled in the answer to what they assumed Reggie’s next question would be.

“Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba. Enough of that now.” Klaus spun in his seat, talking to what looked like an empty chair to the rest of them. 

Could he just be quiet for FIVE MINUTES.

When he spun back he noticeably shuddered and then it clicked in Klaus’s head. Ignoring the attention from everyone at the table he pushed his chair out and violently pointed his finger at y/n. 

“Hey! Get out of my head!” Everyone now turned their looks back to y/n. They had no response other than slouching down into their seat and turning their head to focus back onto the decor. 

Reginald took the silence as an invitation to begin speaking again, “Regardless, what would possess me to adopt eight ill-mannered malcontents?”

“We all have special abilities.” Five explained.

“Special?” Reginald Questioned, “In what sense?”

“In the super power sense.” Luther finally joined in on the conversation. 

“Call me old fashioned, but I’m a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence. Show me.”

“Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden.” Allison proceeded to scoff before she was cut off.

“We’re not circus animals, okay? We’re not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap like seals for your amusement.” Luther attempted to accentuate his point  by literally clapping his hands together. That’s when Diego pulled out a knife and allowed it to slice through the air and around Reginald’s head, sinking into a support post behind him.

Reggie decided to pull out his pen and begin writing in one of those god-awful leather bound notebooks he constantly wrote in when they were younger. They all leaned in, upset that he was doing it again. 

“What’re you writing?” Diego asked.

“You are zero for two, young man.” At that statement Diego immediately pushed out of his chair, lunging towards their father. However, Five was much faster using his spatial jumps. He managed to flash in front of Diego, effectively preventing him from being shanked by their dad again. 

“Stop!” Fives voice was no louder than a whisper although they all still heard him. 

“Now that is interesting.” Reginald noted aloud. Once Diego was 'calm’ again. Five relaxed, walking back to his seat.

“All right, uh, quick rundown-” 

“Luther, super strength. Klaus can commune with the dead.” As they gestured to Klaus once more their siblings shocked glances paused them once more.  

They’re face scrunched up. “What? We all know Five’s definition of quick.” Their sass earned them chuckles from everyone at the table apart from their very loving brother, Five, and their very loving.... father. 

“Anyways,” They continued, “Allison can rumor anyone to do anything-”

“Yea, except she never uses it.” This time it was y/n who was cut off by Diego. That comment caused Allison to give him a pointed look.

“I heard a rumor, you punched yourself in the face.” Diego’s eyes turned white and his fist soar through the air and hit his nose straight on. His groan from the pain echoed through the room and Reginald adjusted himself in his seat, clearly unamused and slightly concerned.

This time, the academy kids held in their laughs worried Diego might be the one shanking them.

"And y/n has the power to read minds.” Five attempted to finish the conversation however they all forgot about the sibling who most recently discovered their powers. “And you?”

To this, Vanya lifted her head and everyone’s amused looks soon turned nervous. 

“Uh, maybe we don’t take Vanya for a test run.” Luther’s voice was laced with fear and the table tried to agree with him however Vanya seemed to think differently. 

“It’s fine. I can handle it.” She reached forward for a fork and glass. 

“Handle it?” Allison asked, “Last time you handled it, you definitely blew up the moon.” This time, the six siblings tried to stop her and braced themselves for the impact of what might be the end of the world... again.

Once the fork hit the glass she focused in on the ringing noise and allowed herself to blow up the fruity centerpiece, sending chunks of pineapple and mango flying everywhere. 

While they all tried to wipe away the fruit on their clothes Vanya just let out a small “oops.”

“Look, we know you’re involved in a plot to assassinate the president.” To that, Reggie quipped back at Diego.

“You were recently hospitalized, isn’t that correct?” Diego sputtered at the statement. “You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia.”

Diego, pissed off, pulled out a photo of him. “Am I?” He asked, standing up. The photo revealed to be-

“That’s you. That’s two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the presidents gonna get shot.” Reginald slowly picked up the photo, looking at it for a moment. 

“Well... I suppose you’ve solved it. You’ve single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot.” Y/n was taking it in. They supposed that’s what Diego wanted but, there was sarcasm. A lot of it at that.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” They knew it. “You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion. The sad reality is that you’re a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head.” At this the table was stunned into silence. 

Diego allowed one tear to slip out. It rolled down his cheek in solidarity. “You’re wr-r-r-wrong.” He managed to finally stutter out. 

He���s right.

Diego’s body shivered. He quickly whipped out another knife and flung it across the table, stabbing y/n’s upper arm. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” His voice was laced with venom and seemed to shut them out of his head. 

They pulled the knife out of their arm and pressed a thick napkin to the wound. The knife clattered back across the table. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to stab your sibling?”

The group stayed silent until Five spoke up. Shocker. “Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it.”

“Why? Men will always be at war with each other.” Reggie tried to reason.

“No, this isn’t just some war. I’m talking about a doomsday. The end of the world.” 

“Well.. You’re the special ones aren’t you?” The group proceeded to glare at him. “Why don’t you band together and do something about it?” 

Unbelievable. 

The siblings collective annoyed thoughts were soon cut off but their brother, Klaus. His body was suddenly jolted forward, shaking violently. His air way seemed to be cut. They all sat concerned and puzzled. 

“Y/n is that-”

“No, I don’t know what that is.” 

“Is he having a seizure?”

“Overdosing probably.” Diego muttered. All of sudden a voice and thoughts flooded Y/n’s mind. They were so loud. Y/n pushed their chair back, standing up. Their hands flew up to their ears, as if covering them would stop the words flowing through their head.

“Klaus, Y/n. Now is not the time. What’re you doing?”

The noises only got louder. “I’m...” His voice was strangled and chalky.

Reginald had quite enough of whatever was going on. “Well, out with it boy.”

Klaus took a deep breath and finally spit out, “...Ben!” He soon gasped and fell out of his chair. He continued to shake here and there and allowed a few groans to get out but none of the above concerned any of his siblings enough to do anything. 

“Well...” Reggie trailed off, “thank you for coming. I’ve seen about enough.” He stacked up his books and climbed over Klaus’s convulsing body. 

“No, I-” Luther tried to speak up, however Hargreeves kept walking. Luther, upset he didn’t get to say anything the whole time he was here, slammed his fists down onto the table. That certainly gained the room attention.

He ripped his shirt open revealing his ape like skin. “Look at what you did to me! Look at it!” Allison nearly spit out her drink and and Five let out an “oh, shit. Why?” with a solid eye roll and slouched into his chair. 

“Okay then. Anybody else wish to embarrass themselves this evening?” Nobody moved, obviously not wanting to embarrass themselves. “I guess I’ll-”

“No.” Y/n shook their head. “You don’t get to walk away after that. You don’t get to just leave after destroying our lives and blaming it on us. You forced us to dedicate everything to saving the stupid world and the stupid people who live on it. I never.. We never wanted to do that. We didn’t get a choice to be who we are, so, because you are the one who disfigured our existences, you are going to be the one who helps get everything back on track.” Out of breath, they finally looked up and locked gazes with their father

“If anyone disfigured your lives, it was yourselves.”

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” They paused before continuing the rant, “You know, Reginald, I don’t think I’m the one who forced myself to become afraid of people because their thoughts were so loud. Leading me to dissociating myself from my siblings and the people around me. In fact, I don’t think any of us would be this fucked up had you just allowed us to be our own people with a family and parents who actually loved us. Who wanted to dedicate their time to furthering us in life, not just using us for their own advantages.” 

“I’m sure whatever I did was to further you in life. I wouldn’t waste my time on something that I was sure to fail.” Hargreeves looked around the room, noticing the mess of a ‘family’ sitting in front of him. “Clearly, I had a miss in judgement.” 

At that he finally turned to leave the room. “You in the culottes?” He motioned to Five. “A word, in private?” Five followed suit leaving the six of them disheveled and wondering what to do next. 

The ring of the elevator doors sounded around them. “Well, that went as good as any Hargreeves family function.” At that Y/n zoned out again. Maybe they didn’t want to but that’s what they had practiced after so many years. Pretending like their siblings weren’t even in the room with them. 

“Where’d that whole speech come from, Y/n/n?” Allison added them into the ‘conversation.’ 

“Oh, um, I suppose I was just sick of allowing him to get away with whatever he wanted to.” 

“That’s one way to put it.” Diego harped on their response, clearly still upset about Y/n entering his head. 

The elevator doors finally opened once more, letting them escape the hellhole of a family meeting they just adjourned.  They all flooded into the hallway not making any eye contact. “Team Zero my ass.”

[thisbrokenmask]

Moving On

Title: Moving On

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Established relationship, fluff

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.7k

Song inspiration: Moving On

A/N: Another one of my submissions for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event, and this one is especially poignant for me as I got the keys to my new apartment today! It’s also my first time living entirely on my own - no fellow students, no partner - so I’m very excited to be taking on this next adventure! 

Also, in case you didn’t notice, I’m a bit soft for Yoongi :) 

“Is this the last one?” You turn to see Taehyung pointing to the box at his feet and nod in confirmation, watching as he immediately bends down to lift it. He doesn’t mention your lack of sarcastic comment that the last box sat in the middle of the room is clearly the last one, and you try not to frown at how effortlessly he lifts it and turns to take it out of your apartment. You remember how you’d had to slide it across the floor once you’d filled it not even a week ago, but you aren’t about to question your significantly stronger friends when they’re helping you and your boyfriend move. 

Once Taehyung’s footsteps disappear down the hallway towards the elevator of your soon-to-be ex-apartment building, you turn to look around the now-empty room that was formerly your lounge. The TV is no longer on the wall, the wide expanse of blue somehow looking smaller without a flatscreen in the middle of it, and all of your photo frames are securely packed away, their hooks removed from the walls and the holes filled in and painted over. 

Your footsteps echo on the bare wooden floors as you turn to wander towards the kitchen, the rugs you’d used to cushion the floor already rolled up and waiting inside the truck outside. The ghosts of tummy-aching laughter and birthday songs ring in your ears as you try to remember all of the celebrations and movie nights that have happened here over the years. You subconsciously step to the side to avoid the end table that’s no longer there, a short chuckle passing your lips as you realise how deeply this action has seeped into your muscle memory. It’s understandable, given how you’ve lived here for just over three years, but you still can’t help but laugh at yourself. 

The white kitchen cupboards gleam in the sunlight that seeps in through the window above the sink, all of them meticulously wiped clean and emptied. A soft smile graces your face as you remember all the dinners you both cooked here, the glasses of wine you giggled over, even the few times you made love on the floor when the bedroom was just too far away from the front door after a date night. 

“Ready to go?” A pair of arms wraps around your waist and a chin settles on your shoulder as Yoongi whispers in your ear, his deep voice the most sinful ASMR you’ve ever heard. The warmth of his chest against your back helps to soothe the nerves that have been creeping up your spine for the last few days. While you’re glad to be out of the small, cramped apartment that you could barely afford by scraping your earnings together three years ago, you’ve never been good with saying goodbyes, even to places. 

You remember the first night you spent here, the two of you sat on the floor with a few take out containers between you. Boxes sat on the counters above you and took up the floor in the next room, and a mattress was waiting on the floor in the bedroom for when you eventually collapsed into bed together, frameless until later on in the week. Your belongings were threadbare at best, a lot of secondhand pieces making up the most of your possessions, but it was finally your own space. The two of you, together.  

“I think so,” your whispered reply is shaky as you place your hands over his where they rest on your stomach, his hum of amusement rumbling against your shoulders. 

“Don’t tell me now you want to stay?” he teases, turning his hands over to lace his fingers with yours. 

“Definitely not,” you laugh, squeezing his hands in return. “I’m glad to be leaving, really. We’ve outgrown this place and I’m ready to move on.” You nod to yourself, feeling your confidence rise with each word, knowing that you mean them all wholeheartedly. You’ve definitely outgrown this apartment, both of you now making much more money than you’d ever dreamed of three years ago thanks to Yoongi’s growing success in freelance music producing and your own writing career taking off just over a year ago. 

But it’s not just the money. The two of you have gone from strength to strength as a couple, weathering the storms of being broke, missing out on dream jobs, stress-fuelled arguments and late nights spent deciding whether to pay the bills on time or eat more than packet ramen for the foreseeable future. You’re ready to keep moving forward through life with him, already knowing that you’ll stay by his side for as long as he’ll have you. 

The man who lives full time in your heart starts to sway slightly, his hold on you guiding your hips to follow his from side to side. “Yeah?” His nose nuzzles into the spot just below your ear, your breath catching in your throat as he places a gentle kiss to your pulse point. You nod weakly, your confidence slipping at his question. “Then why do you look like you’re going to cry?” 

With a deep breath, you close your eyes and pull your hands from his. You feel him tense slightly, but he relaxes as soon as you guide his hands to the slope of your body between the dip of your waist and the curve of your hips. You finally turn in his arms, looping your arms around his neck, unable to blink back the tears in your eyes despite the smile on your lips. His eyes are watching you carefully, dark and deep and attentive as always, even when the black hair of his fringe threatens to overlap them. It hides his eyebrows, but you know one is cocked slightly to match the lopsided smirk he’s giving you. 

“Because, this is where we grew up, Yoongi,” you tell him, watching as his expression relaxes from a teasing smirk to match your soft-eyed smile. “We went through so much here; the good, the bad, the ugly… the fun.” You pull gently on the hair at the nape of his neck at the memories of the kitchen floor you’d just been reminiscing on and grin, a deep sigh sounding when he closes his eyes and bites his lip before staring straight back at you, pupils dilated. “We’ve got so many memories here,” you continue, looking around at the empty walls and pretending to ignore the way he grips you tighter. “I know it’s not the best apartment, but it was us. This was our home, and I’m going to miss it.” 

Yoongi’s stare softens once more and he internally curses how he knows he’ll never win against you; you hold his heart in your hands and he worships how gently you hold it, never squeezing too hard or letting him feel like you might drop it. 

“I won’t miss it,” he says quietly, catching you off guard as he leans in a little closer.

“No?” He shakes his head. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my home,” he states, as if it were a fact universally acknowledged. “As long as I’m with you, I’m more than happy.” 

“You’re my home, too,” your watery smile threatens to push your tears down your cheeks, but you manage to catch yourself before they do. You smile instead, adoration clear in your eyes as you look up at him. 

Yoongi’s heart beats wildly at the conflicting emotions coursing through his body, wanting to make sweet, reverential love to you, fuck you against the wall until you know nothing but his name, and simply hold you tightly against his chest, all in equal measure. You bewitch, ensnare and captivate his senses all at once, always have done, and he constantly struggles with how he can possibly express how much he loves you. He wants to worship every inch of you and yet feels too inadequate to even gaze upon your body. He wants to wait on you hand and foot and give you anything you want, but also wants to see you thrive in your own spotlight, carving your own path as you go. He’s torn between fierce attraction and heady admiration at every turn, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

As his friends have repeatedly said, he’s whipped. 

And guess what? He’s proud of it. 

You’re the woman who has stood by him despite everything, despite all the hardships you easily could have upped and walked away from. You’re the one who comforted him when his own parents refused to recognise his dreams, letting him vent and cry rather than telling him they weren’t worth the pain they caused him. You’re the person who admonished him for wanting to give up on his dreams of music, even when it was barely bringing enough money to the table despite keeping him up all night. You were the first person he wanted to tell when he finally sold a track for a decent amount of money, running home to show you the cheque in person because he could barely believe it himself. 

And here you still are, in his arms, gazing up at him like he’s worth more to you than the whole world, a position he still doesn’t feel like he’s even close to earning. You entered this flat together and you’re leaving together, off to take on new adventures together on stronger legs. Your new apartment is bigger, with enough room for Yoongi to have some proper equipment in a proper studio space while you have your very own writing desk in your new office. You’ve been able to upgrade your bed from a rickety-framed double to a memory foam-topped queen. There’s even more space on the kitchen floor. 

You smile as he lets his forehead rest against yours, both of you closing your eyes as you breathe into the same private space between you. As you feel his hands move around to rest at the base of your back, you feel a new surge of confidence fuelled purely by the love you feel radiating off of your partner. As long as you’re with him, you feel invincible.

“Let’s go,” you say, not moving an inch. 

“Okay,” he whispers back, pulling you closer so that your chests are pressed firmly together. 

A final deep breath, you pull apart. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

If you would like to read any more of my writings, please feel free to check out my masterlist here. 

[ciceroisthefamilycat]

The conclusion to the VA/BL reread with Silver Shadows and Ruby Circle (here’s the post on FH, here’s the post on the VA closers SB and LS)

I think I forgot to emphasize this in the last post: it is bullshit that Adrian still had the Alchemist-paid-for apartment after the events of “TFH” and only becomes more unbelievable that Trey has it still in “SS”... I do not get it

Like with SB and LS, I would make a lot of plot changes in the adaptation.

Silver Shadows

Fun fact: her golden lily on this book cover actually flashes a little gold in the right lighting, and I love that

This one, especially the majority of Sydney’s stuff in the first half or so of the book, was much better than I remembered.

Adrian’s stuff had me far less forgiving. I realize he’s struggling with a fictionalized elevated form of bipolar disorder and he developed addictions in trying to self-medicate over most of his adolescence/early adulthood so far, but as far as his actions go... the part where he blackouts for something like three weeks while in Sydney’s chapters she’s so certain he’s going to rescue her... it really frustrates me. Especially because Richelle writes him as self-flagellating over it, but Sydney immediately reassures him “oh, no, I just got the gas turned off, you couldn’t have really done anything...” as if those three or so days weren’t a big deal with the way the time crunch worked out later... it’s one of those heavy-handed things where I don’t feel like Richelle ever actually makes Adrian own up to his errors in the same way the rest of the main characters have to. Including: Wesley Drozdov and his motley crew show up again, and Adrian plays big hero and outs their dabbling attempt on Sydney, and then with Keith later on thinks to himself “at least I’d taken no for an answer from girls” as if he hadn’t insistently pursued both Rose and Sydney (including the scene at Alicia’s Victorian inn in IS) and been revealed to have dabbled at least once. Like, good that he’s trying to make up for past behavior, but again and again it comes off to me as glib or insincere (in the way it’s written- that he’s some model that is exempt from causing harm). This especially pisses me off in the way he treats his mom for sticking in a loveless marriage to his dad (did Adrian forget about his mom’s affair with Ambrose btw?) for financial security, and even with the hypocrisy being pointed out to him and him begrudgingly admitting it in his mind, or he drags Nina to Sonya’s to try and get her compensated for her work and she’s all googly eyes at him, but his acts of chivalry feel empty. And this extends to Marcus, too, to a lesser extent. Look, I love Carly (all the Sage sisters mean the world to me) and I’m glad that she became an advocate for fellow survivors and I get what Richelle was trying to do in empowering survivors with Carly’s character, but Marcus’ star-struck admiration of her (being made speechless by her strength) felt weird and make me uncomfortable.

On to Sydney’s stuff, holy hell her side of the story is dark. And this conversion therapy nonsense in it is part of why I desperately want canon queer leads in the adaptation (preferably Sydney herself, which would yes mean Adrian and probably Rose... that’s my prerogative). Is that potentially triggering? YES. But Richelle took that step when she laid it on so thick with the allegory. In the meantime, I love the supporting characters that Richelle drew up to be in the center with Sydney. Emma, Duncan, and the rest (the fellow detainees- not Sheridan... she can burn) and I want more of them (seriously, Richelle made some great underexplored groups with the Unpromised, the Keepers, the Merry Men, and then these additional Rebelchemists). There is a weird mention of Sydney having arranged some supply closets on one of the floors, despite whatever scene she did that in seemingly having been cut (there was also a line Rose ascribed to Victor at the end of Last Sacrifice about sending Jill away, so it’s not unheard of). When I first read the book (with a long break before), the degree to which Sydney was using magic in there felt illogical, but rereading directly from the other books, it is more justifiable. I think the Detainment, and Sydney’s struggles there, is some of the best writing Richelle managed in the books, and I don’t have any changes to that part.

But the escape... is actively worse than I remember it. There are glimmers of some great stuff in there- I mentioned in the last post how much I love when Sydney wakes up Hopper and sobs over him, and that still is powerful. But omfg Sydney (and Adrian) hold up the stupid stick so many times in these chapters. To be clear, first-off: Adrian should have gotten blood before they ever went into the desert. In the worst case, he and Eddie (the night before the infiltration) should have gone off to the side and done a feeding (doesn’t have to be Eddie, since I imagine he actually has a bad reaction to them since FB, but it does have to be someone willing). Eddie would have enough time to recover, especially with adequate food. Setting that aside, the actual events of the escape work for me. So I guess it’s more the after. Sydney and Adrian should have driven straight to Las Vegas (if they wanted to stop in the other town and change clothes and switch cars that’s fine with me- I even like the senior citizen tour they were on; p.s. we never learn if the Ivashkinator was shipped back to Palm Springs or anything, which is very surprising to me). Their decision to stay in a hotel overnight, even as much as Sydney did deserve that kind of relaxation, was stupid beyond belief. I would have preferred they got to Vegas, were spotted by Alchemists but made it to the Witching Hour without issue, and then Adrian got them a room, and that was the point where Sydney relaxed and slept. Consolidate some of that. Let Sydney have her luxury bath, and a haircut from Adrian, and other stuff there. Let her mention to him that the first photo she saw of him was taken near there, and hey, did he know Rose had bought a car in Russia that Sydney loved. And when Adrian goes down to make some money to further their escape, that’s when he realizes they’re being watched- there are too many yellow and orange auras. Let them have a less exorbitant wedding than in the book- no ridiculous mermaid dress that Sydney can’t expect to move in and that is ridiculously expensive (she can still have a beautiful stunning white dress). Let her start with the blue sneakers. Let Adrian find a place to get the ring made, if that’s necessary (or just use the dang cufflinks as are for the time being and pin them to the fancy attire). And Jill sends the chopper directly to the Firenze for an “Italian” wedding. They can still have the showdown with Sheridan on the roof- just simplify everything.

And then when they get to Court- let Sydney do more of the talking. Let her (righteously) call out the conditions in the reconditioning- the torture because she showed empathy to Renee who couldn’t even eat on her own, the torture they inflicted on Emma to break her- she didn’t betray her own kind, the Alchemists are repeatedly betraying their own kind, pushing them into the darkness of an empty hole. Oh, and this necklace around her neck, that Sheridan took for her own before Sydney reclaimed it, the morning glories were painted by the man she loves. And she rejects the Alcehmists having any authority on her. She’s a witch of the Stelle coven; she’s Sydney Sage Ivaskhov damnit. And when her dad tells her that if she doesn’t come with them, these will be the last words she ever gets to say to him? She gets to ask him if he knew what happened to Carly, if he let it happen under his own roof because he wanted a son like Keith more than the daughters he was blessed with. I want Sydney arguing her case, having her real communion. I said the same for Rose and Spirit Bound, and Sydney deserves the same here.

p.s. there are a lot of structural parallels between this book and BP/early SB- Sydney’s reeducation being like Rose’s time in Novosibirsk, the Tasarov escape from SB (which Eddie directly mentions) immediately followed up with a Vegas trip

Ruby Circle

Dang it. Look, I no longer hate the idea of Sydney and Adrian raising a kid. Their ending in RC was a lot better built-up (and a lot less bitter for Sydney) than I thought the first time. But the road to get there...

I hate the Jill being kidnapped by Alicia part (and I don’t buy the Warriors working with her). Honestly, just let them deal with Alicia during the events of Fiery Heart (when next to nothing else is going on). Like, Adrian and Sydney come off really badly in my head for “causing” her kidnapping because of a personal vendetta against them, when they came there to protect her in the first place (I realize the actual fault was with Alicia, but the feeling stands). Also the pointless scavenger hunt leading them from Pennsylvania (so conveniently, even though Alicia would have had to go there to set her traps after abducting Jill in the first place?) a month after the fact to whatever castle (then to Michigan) then to Palm Springs and the infiltrating the Warriors mission... it’s all too much (also I refuse to believe Sydney cast those stinging demons... that’s so dangerous I can’t even). Given the introduction of the Stelle in FH, and the unnecessary Malachi stuff, it works better to do that all then anyways. (I still want Jackie involved somehow of course) Instead of sidelining Angeline at Amberwood, she should get to be involved in the hunt for Jill (same as Eddie was for Sydney).

In other parts... Wesley Drozdov was never a good character. I really didn’t need even a mention of him in this book. I also... don’t buy how stigmatized Adrian was for marrying Sydney. I can see it being a scandal, or a laughingstock, the source of snarky asides and derision, but Richelle never built it in VA or the earlier BL books to being as heinous as she then tried to make it (so that Adrian could feel suffocated by Court, just like Sydney). I would have been much more interested in trying to see Sydney blend in, and take a stand in the Moroi world (and seeing her try to ally with nonroyal Moroi, but that also still not going super smoothly because they don’t like being on the same level as a human), and maybe her trying out her magic with the Moroi fighters that Mia and Christian had formed (that beautiful, blessed little moment), and then if it integrating there didn’t work admitting that it just... wasn’t going to. Rather than not even trying.

I understand that Richelle was building up with Adrian’s fears of completely losing it with Nina, but she just got screwed over in both of these books. (We’re acknowledging that it was wrong of her to kiss him in SS when he wasn’t even conscious, and moving on). And then Olive got screwed. And Neil got screwed. I said before that I don’t mind Sydney and Adrian raising a kid. But I mind a whole heck of a lot that Richelle killed (essentially) Nina and Olive both (in bullshit, tragic ways) and then wrote Neil off so that Sydney and Adrian would have to raise a baby. Let Sydney be pregnant. Let her be recovering from the most traumatic event of her life, she and Adrian forewent protection on their hectic honeymoon/escape, she’s going to be a mom to a Dhamphir and wow that’s going to be weird for her... and meanwhile this allows her to get through to Olive. To promise Olive and Neil that Sonya and everyone else will not use their baby as a test tube. Nina can still go up to the brink (maybe she passes it and the spirit trio of Lissa, Sonya, and Adrian have to heal her), there can still be a Strigoi attack at the Refuge in northern Michigan, but ffs cut the crap treatment of those three to pass on a readymade kid to Sydrian. It is a trope that I loathe. I also dislike the “ohmigod” fangirl characterization of Mallory, and while the Rand stuff was better than I remembered (that is to say, he is terrible and everyone acknowledges that and no one makes light of it the way I misremembered), I could do without it (especially since I’d prefer that if they keep Dimitri and Adrian cousins, they addres it much earlier).

Honestly, I would do the following:

the start of the season for RC (which doesn’t match its name??) has Sydney and Adrian locked down at Court and they can’t help like they want to, so they try to adapt and do what they can there, including Adrian trying to get Nina to calm down; their friends from Palm Springs and Marcus team up altogether and get an infiltration squad with the Warriors of Light; Eddie gets to participate; they rescue Jill, and get some of the data on the Alchemist/ Warrior collaboration

the Moroi Court finally gets into action on the age and family laws in earnest; meanwhile, Sydney is helping carve out a niche for the rebel Alchemists to work with the Moroi, especially for Strigoi hunting groups like what Mia and Christian wanted to organize; Jill and Sydney are helping each other emotionally recover from their respective hostage ordeals; Sydney realizes she’s pregnant, which helps Adrian realize in a dream with Olive that she’s pregnant, and finally sees her location marker

it’s “rescuing” Olive time; Neil gets to go too- with his presence, things don’t all go to shit; there is a Strigoi attack in retaliation for the new hunting groups, but heroes persevere and protect the commune; the data on the Alchemist/Warrior collaboration, and the Rebelchemists work with the Moroi, gives the perfect leverage now to get the Rebelchemists their freedom and establish Sydrian’s future together

SO, after rereading Bloodlines

I dislike Sydrian less than I did, though I still think Adrian could be vastly improved if adapted as a woman

the second half gave Eddie more to do, but still not enough emotional focus on him

man Amberwood and its supporting characters disappeared; I get that Adrian isn’t likely to settle in California long term, but can I please get more resolution to those characters, whether it comes from more focus in IS, or a graduation ceremony or something?

Abe also disappeared which is strange

man, Sydrian have a lot of daddy issues. because their dads are both abusive jerks. but why oh why did Jared end up collaborating with the Warriors for tattoos? was it because of anger over ‘losing’ Sydney or just greed? I’m glad that Zoe and Sydney at least started to heal things, and that Zoe is ok where she is

we still never got answers on who restored Lee... Clarence only showed up for deus ex machina money and shelter and I guess blood (did Marcus ever get to speak to him again?)

minor grievance: Richelle described the Warrior recruits as being almost evenly distributed between men and women, with a slide toward men, before two pages later saying there were 30 potential guys and 13 potential ladies, and remembering that, oh, yeah, the Warriors didn’t really use women on the front line; I don’t want any of that subplot adapted I just... editing?

#DoBetterByOliveAndNinaAndNeil2030 (who gets to name their kid Declan?), #LetSydneyUseHerBeautifulBrain

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: G

Chapter Summary: Nathalie and co. crash the party. This time, Alya is the one with the backup plan. Meanwhile, Ladybug and Adrien are both stupidly in love.

Word Count:  4294 | Chapter 4/4

Notes: Last chapter of the fic for @marinetteplztakeabreak commissioned through @mlbforblm!  The drive is over, but please check out the blog to see what everyone else has created and how to stay involved!

XXX

“I am telling you!  If you did not RSVP, you do not come in!  That is the rules!”  Philippe spread his arms wide, blocking the entrance to the rink.  Nino could barely see him through the crack in the double doors.  Philippe was a cool dude, but he wouldn’t last long against Nathalie, Adrien’s bodyguard, and tablet-Gabe himself.

Nino was tempted to go out there and turn the tablet’s power off, just to see what Nathalie would do.  But he didn’t want to get Adrien grounded for the next millennium.

Plus, he wasn’t supposed to be seen at all.  Kagami and Wayhem were on stalling duty with Philippe.  Nino just had to make sure that Nathalie wouldn’t find any trace of Adrien when she eventually forced her way in.

“They’re gone.  Finally.”  Chloé reported.

Nino nodded.  He’d seen a red blur leave through the window.

“Rose, Juleka, and I hid the presents behind the skate rental booth,” Alya said.  “Kim ate the rest of the cake, and Luka took XY to make out in the bathroom.  That should cover all the loose ends.”

“Why are you telling us that?”  Chloé gagged, and Alya rolled her eyes.

“Because XY’s obviously the weakest link here.  You said you caught him posting photos on Insta, right?”

“I did.  It’s a good thing you put me on the job.”  She flipped her hair.

Not that it mattered in the end, because Nathalie had found them anyway.  But the rink looked about as innocent as it could get.  With the presents hidden, the laser lights turned off, and generic pop music playing, they could’ve been a bunch of dudes on a regular Friday evening.

“Anyway, we’ll all be safer if XY isn’t here to spill our secrets for a little while.  You better go too, babe,” Alya said, squeezing Nino’s hand.  

“Go where?  Apparently Luka and XY called dibs on the bathroom.”  Besides, he’d planned this party, and he was going to see it through.  It was time to break his three-year-long failure streak.

Alya sighed.  “I’ll be ready to pay your bail, then.”

He gave a weak grin.  Like Adrien, he was still seventeen.  They couldn’t actually arrest him, right?

Considering the Agrestes were loaded, he wouldn’t take his chances.

The doors opened.  Nino did his best not to scowl at Gabriel’s face on the tablet.

“What gives?”  He asked, pretending like he hadn’t put weeks of planning into this moment.  “Did you get mad we didn’t invite you to our sweet party?”

“So you admit it,” Gabe said coldly from the screen.  Nathalie remained as still as a statue, like she was only there to display her boss’ face.  It was pretty creepy, honestly.  Adrien’s bodyguard was normally silent anyway, so that wasn’t as unnerving.

“Admit what?  That we know how to have a rad time, and you don’t?”  Nino put his hands on his hips.  His tone might be pushing it, but if he acted too nice, Gabe would never buy it.

“That you threw a birthday party for dsfkslksdkfklfdfk when I have repeatedly sdlfdsfsllkdf express disapproval.”  Gabriel’s face glitched out a few times, his voice blurring to something like a keysmash.  

Nino bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.  Man, he owed Max big time for this.

“Birthday party?”  Wayhem frowned.  He was a better actor than most of them.  “I didn’t hear anything about a birthday.”

“Today is my son’s sdsaskdlfirthday.”

Wayhem’s head tilted.  “You have a son?”

Nino choked.  Okay, maybe Wayhem was trying too hard, but the look on tablet-Gabe’s face was priceless.  If only he could convince Nathalie to take a screenshot.

“It’s Adrien’s birthday, dude.”  Nino punched Wayhem’s arm.  “We just couldn’t invite him, remember?  ‘Cause his dad’s a buzzkill.”

“I took him out for birthday orange juice to cheer him up,” Kagami told Wayhem, but her words were really directed towards Gabriel.  “A poor substitute for a party, but it was the best I could do.”

Gabriel’s eyes flickered, as if scanning as much of the rink as his screen would allow.

“Search the area.”

Adrien’s bodyguard nodded once, not that Gabe could see him from his angle.  Then he went off to inspect the rows of chairs.  At least he wasn’t starting with the skate rental booth.

“Be careful with my rink!  Don’t step on the ice without proper skating equipment!”  Philippe shouted.  

“Weren’t you listening?  He’s not here, dude—sir,” Nino corrected.  Not that it mattered much.  He’d already been as disrespectful as he dared. 

Gabe’s face glitched again.  “Where is my son now, then?”

Alya shrugged.  “Probably on his way home, right?”

“Alone?”  He practically snarled.  The tablet froze for a moment, catching his mouth open in an unflattering frame.  Maybe Nino could sneak his phone out and take a picture if he couldn’t get a real screenshot.  “Why wouldn’t he call his bodyguard?  Have you all dslkfddfsjljfdls irresponsible—”

“He’s with Ladybug, dude,” Nino interrupted.  Adrien’s bodyguard was getting close to the skates; he couldn’t afford to stall too long.  “He can’t get safer than that.”

For some reason, that only seemed to make Gabe seethe more.  But a neutral expression quickly replaced it, so maybe Nino was just imagining things.

“If sdlfkdfs your idea of a trick, you’ll have to—”

Kagami’s phone dinged.  Silently, she held up her screen to the tablet.  Nino couldn’t see what it showed, but Gabe’s mouth finally shut.

“Nathalie.  Return home at once and sdlfjkdssdls Ladybug has delivered my son safely.”

Nathalie’s expression changed for the first time, her eyes widening.  “But, sir, aren’t you already at—”

“Kskdlfskfl at once.”  The screen went dark.

Nathalie sighed, like Gabriel had taken the last bit of her composure with him. 

“Enjoy your not-birthday party,” she said in monotone before exiting the rink, her heels clicking against the concrete floor with each step.

Adrien’s bodyguard jogged after her.  His face was bright pink—he’d just come out from investigating the boy’s bathroom.  XY must have been useful after all.

Nino whistled once the adults were gone.  “What did you show her?”

Kagami held up her phone for him.  Adrien’s face was squished next to Ladybug’s in a selfie he’d posted to Instagram.  Her smile looked a little more hysteric than Alya’s Ladyblog photos could capture.  Actually, it looked kind of familiar.

But Nino didn’t think too hard about that, considering the caption Adrien had typed.

Escorted home by my favorite superhero!  I couldn’t ask for a more miraculous birthday present!! <3

If Ladybug looked awkward, it was probably just embarrassment at how cheesy he was.

“How did you get that so fast?”  Nino frowned.

“I messaged Adrien while you were stalling.  Unfortunately, he’ll have to return home to maintain the illusion.”  Her brows pulled into a scowl.  “I should have created a contingency plan for this.”

“What?”  Kim shouted.  “But I haven’t even won my bet!”

Alix cackled and stretched out her hand.  “Pay up, loser.”

Juleka ran her fingers comfortingly through Rose’s hair.  Max frowned down at his computer screen.  Others were murmuring to each other, looking downcast.  All of them knew how much work Nino and Kagami had put into this party.  All of them knew how much it meant to Adrien.

“Come on, we’re not giving up that easily!” Nino insisted.  “There’s gotta be some way to keep fooling Nathalie.  What if Max hacks the sound system again?  We can make it sound like he’s in bed snoring, or something.”

“Guys?”  Alya stepped up, waving her phone at the two of them.  “I have a better idea.”

XXX

Marinette.exe had stopped working.  Thankfully, Ladybug.exe could still run on backup power.  She tried to keep her cool as she swung them up onto the roof of the rink.

“Wait,” Adrien said before she could cast out her yo-yo again.  His breath was close to her neck, ruffling her pigtails. She did her best not to shiver.

“We need to get you away from here. Just in case,” Marinette said.  The silver limo was still parked below, but she had no idea how long it would take for Nathalie and Adrien’s bodyguard to leave the rink.

“They won't see us up here.  I can’t leave without making sure Nino is okay.  Last year, my father almost got him arrested.”

Marinette winced.  Of course, Adrien didn’t know that “Ladybug” was there for his previous almost-birthday-party, close enough to see the bruises on Nino’s arm.

“I hope he’s alright too,” she said quietly before gently setting him on his feet.  His arms were still secure around her neck, and his ring was a shock of cold where it brushed her skin.

His ring.  She’d never seen him without it.

“I—sorry!”  Adrien practically yelped when she did shiver.  His arms slapped back to his sides.

She couldn’t do anything but stare as red spilled across his cheeks.  It was him.  It had to be him.

Ladybug.exe was beginning to shut down too.  Maybe Max could reinstall her software.

“Ladybug?”  Adrien swallowed.  “We should probably hide a little bit better…”

“R-right!”

She let him pull her flat against the roof.  They laid there on their stomachs, her arm pressed to his, their fingers still twined together.  His silver ring gleamed against the red of her suit.

How was she supposed to breach the subject?  “Oh, by the way, I know you’re Chat Noir?”  It was his birthday.  He deserved a perfect identity reveal, not just her stupidly blurting whatever came into her head.  

His phone beeped, startling her.

“Sorry.  Kagami said to keep my ringer on in case of an emergency.”  He fished the phone from his pocket and set it on the roof.  They were close enough for Marinette to see the message from Kagami on his screen.

“She needs us to take a selfie?”  Her brow furrowed.

Adrien shrugged.  “It must be important.”

They sat up, still holding hands.  Her blush probably matched his by now, but if he hadn’t let go, why should she?

She shuffled closer to him, until her chin was resting over his shoulder.  Just so they would both fit in the camera frame, of course.  Not because she wanted to press her cheek to his, feel his blush on her skin.

Yeah, she wasn’t kidding anyone.  Except maybe him.

“Smile!”  He said, holding up his phone.

As if she could not smile when breathing in his radiant, carefree, dreamy scent.  When she knew more than ever that they were made for each other.

Her grin still looked a bit too wide in the photo, not like his perfect, brilliant smile.

“You’re still that happy?”  She couldn’t help blurting.  She had his model smiles memorized.  This wasn’t one of them.  It was too genuine, much more so than her tense grin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”  He looked up from where he was typing out a caption.  “I get to spend my birthday with my—with my favorite superhero.”  His smile twitched, almost becoming a familiar smirk. 

She blushed, even though Chat Noir had said more flirtatious things to her than that.

“But your party might be over.  You didn’t even get to open presents.”  Which reminded her, she still had his present in her yo-yo.  Now didn’t feel like the right time to give it to him, though.

“The best present is how much my friends thought of me.”  He squeezed her hand.  “And I wouldn’t worry yet.  Nino and Kagami probably have a plan for this.”

His phone rang.  Nino or Kagami already?  Was the coast clear?

But the contact on the screen wasn’t either of them.

“Alya?”  Adrien asked after picking up.  “Is everything okay?  Nino didn’t do anything crazy, did he?”

Marinette strained to pick out what Alya was saying on the other end, but it was too muffled.  Adrien’s eyes widened.

“Uh…” To her surprise, he held out the phone to her.  “Alya wants to talk to you.”

Marinette blinked before holding the phone to her ear.  “Hello?”

Alya didn’t waste time with introductions.  “Sorry to interrupt your date, but I know a way we can save Adrien’s party.  Can I borrow the fox miraculous again?”

XXX

Alya played a few notes on her flute, and brilliant light streamed from the end.  It coalesced into Adrien’s sleeping form, nestled beneath the covers.  So realistic.  His back even rose and fell with the illusion of breath.

“Amazing,”  Marinette whispered as she crouched in Adrien’s windowsill.  She tried not to fidget as she kept lookout—not that Nathalie should show up anytime soon.  Even though Marinette had stopped to pick up Alya’s miraculous, they’d easily left the Agreste limo behind in the Friday evening traffic. 

Alya strapped her flute to her back and nodded.  “Probably a waste of effort.  I doubt Nathalie will even pay attention.”

Marinette sighed.  She was probably right.  If only she could take Adrien away for longer than one evening, one birthday party…

Soon.  Even if Adrien had to spend his days here, she would make sure his nights were full of freedom and laughter.  

Full of love.

Just as soon as she found out the best way to reveal her identity.  It was only fair, now that she’d figured out his.  And then everything would be perfect, and they’d go on dates in the park, and she’d sew him sweaters to wear over his suit, and he’d crack puns and she’d pun back, and— 

“You alright there, Ladybug?”  The faux eyebrows on Alya’s mask drew together.

“Yep!  Doing great!”  She grinned, face heating.  She had to be careful.  If she daydreamed too much in front of Alya, her friend might puzzle out her identity, too.

“We better go then.  Don’t want to leave your boyfriend waiting.”  She winked.

Marinette gaped.  “What?  He’s not—I mean, I wouldn’t mind if he was, but—”

She couldn’t date Adrien as Ladybug.  She’d known that even before she agreed to come suited up to his party.  But she hadn’t realized just how much of a mess it would be if Alya thought Ladybug was dating Adrien, and then Marinette showed up with him at school.

“It’s okay.  Practically everyone’s had a crush on Adrien at some point.  But Ladybug?”  Alya stepped close, then swung her legs over the windowsill so they were sitting side by side. “If you really want to be with him, you’d better love him, okay?  At least as much as my best friend does.  And I’m not sure that’s possible.”

Her face heated, but from what?  Embarrassment?  Intimidation?  She was being ridiculous.  Alya was comparing her to herself!

“I—I promise I’ll take his feelings seriously,” she said quietly.

Alya nodded.  “Well then, let’s go.”

With that, she leapt off for the next rooftop.  Marinette lagged behind for just a moment, though, glancing back at the illusory Adrien.

“He means everything to me.”

XXX

Adrien paced on the roof after Ladybug left.  He wasn’t sure what she was doing with Alya, or how they were going to keep Nathalie from realizing he wasn’t in his room.  She was Ladybug.  She always had a plan.

He did kind of wish she’d remembered to take him back inside first, though.

“So you’re just gonna sit out here?  You’re missing your own party!”  Plagg said, flying out of his hoodie.

“It’s alright.”  He swung his legs over the edge of the roof, kicking slowly back and forth.  The party had been amazing, and while he did want to be back inside, this was nice too.  The evening air, the bright moon, the phantom memory of Ladybug’s hand in his.

Did she actually like him?  Him?  No way.  She’d said she didn’t want to kiss him, and she’d acted a little bit off all night.

Maybe that was why he waited up here, rather than transforming and climbing down.  Somehow, he felt that if he could see her just one more time, he’d be able to understand.

His phone beeped.  He checked it immediately, heart pounding.  Was Ladybug okay?  Had her and Alya’s mysterious plan failed?

No.  It was Kagami, just checking on him.  He breathed a sigh of relief and began typing a reply.

“Boring.”  Plagg sighed.  “Wake me up when we get back inside.  I didn’t even get the chance to check out the cheese table.”

Adrien smiled and patted him as he snuggled back in the hoodie pocket.

I’ll be back soon, he typed.  Just waiting on Ladybug.

She left you up there?  Kagami sent back.  I’ll come get you.  Philippe is showing me a way up.

His eyes widened.  That fast?  Well, Kagami was never one to hesitate.

He didn’t even have time to write a reply before Philippe’s head poked up through a hidden trap door.

“Ah, there you are!  The man of the hour!”  He smiled.  “Your friend is looking for you.  She’s waiting below.”

“Thanks.  I’ll be down in just a second.”  He waved back, then turned his gaze to the horizon.

“Don’t take too long.  She’s very concerned about you.”

Kagami was always looking out for him.  It warmed his heart, even as he felt guilty for missing the party she’d planned.

“I won’t; don’t worry.”

Philippe disappeared down the hatch, and sure enough, Ladybug didn’t keep him waiting much longer either.  She dropped Alya off at the front door before swinging up onto the roof.

“You should be safe now,” she said with a smile.  “Your father will never know you’re here.”

He smiled back, suddenly overwhelmed with just how much he loved this girl.  Not only had she come to his party, she’d gone out of her way to make sure he didn’t get in trouble.  

Of course, Alya had helped with that too.  He’d have to thank her when he got back inside.

“Thank you, Ladybug.”  He fought back the urge to take her hand again.  He didn’t have an excuse this time.  Besides, he was around her all the time as Chat Noir; he should have enough practice keeping his hands to himself.

She just smiled back, looking as strained as before, like a balloon about to burst.

“Are you okay?”  He asked, reaching out vaguely before letting his arm fall back to his side.  Hands to himself.

Because she didn’t like him.  Probably.  Even if his love was like a drum beating its way out of his chest, so loud she’d have to be deaf to ignore it.

She laughed with her head in her hands.  “Why does everyone keep asking that?”  

“Um… because you’ve been acting a little bit weird all night, and if I did anything to make you uncomfortable, I want to be able to fix it.”

“You?”  Her head popped back up, revealing wide eyes.  “Worried about making me uncomfortable?”

“Uh… yeah?”  He wasn’t suited up, and “Adrien” didn’t have years of familiarity to fall back on.  Each casual touch could be misconstrued.

This time, her laugh was real, echoing over the traffic below.

“You’re too nice, you know that?”  She finally said.

“Um… thanks?”

Real eloquent, Adrien.  He was pretty sure he’d started the last three sentences with some variation of uh.

“I mean it.  You’re always too nice, and you’re always here for me, and I—I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.” She hiccuped, and—and was she crying?  

“My—” he cut off before he could say my lady. 

But she just smiled, even as tears trickled down her mask.

“Your lady.  Yeah.”  She giggled, though a wet sniffle interrupted it.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all emotional.  I planned out a whole speech on the way over, and then I saw you and it just—woosh!  Gone.” 

Your lady.  His… but then she…?

“You’re so cute when you figure things out,” she said, reaching out to take his hand.  “I hope you’re not disappointed.  I wanted to give you a more dramatic reveal, but I—I just love you so much, aaaaaaand I wasn’t supposed to say that yet either.”

She smacked her forehead with her free hand.  He was still gaping, his soul practically leaving his body.

“How could I ever be disappointed with that?”  He breathed, looking between her eyes and their joined hands.  He gave hers an experimental squeeze, and found that she squeezed back.  Sparks went off from his fingers to his toes.  “My Lady, this is the best birthday present ever.”

That was a lie.  She threw her arms around him, and that was the best present ever.  Every heartbeat was better, and better, and soon he was laughing and breathing in the scent of her hair, and she was laughing back and squeezing him so tight he could burst.

“I love you too,” he said against her neck.  “Obviously.” 

“Obviously,” she huffed.  “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

“Well, I’ll make sure it will be from now on.”  He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, to stare into her eyes.  A few freckles spilled out from under her mask.  He’d never been close enough to see those before.

“I’d appreciate that.”

He could’ve asked when, or how, or why she’d fallen for him.  What happened to the other boy she used to talk about? 

But that all faded in the face of her lips brushing his.  Hesitant at first, then wanting, needing.  This was better than anything he could’ve asked for.  A giddy laugh burst from his lungs to hers, and she pulled back.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.  You probably weren’t supposed to laugh in someone’s mouth while you were kissing them.  “I got a little too excited.”

“Adrien.”  She cupped his cheek in her palm.  “Never feel sorry for being happy.  Or excited.  I’m so excited I could die right now.”

“Please don’t.”

She chuckled.  “Anyway, as much as I just want to keep kissing you, I should probably give you your real birthday present.”

He blinked.  If she had more in mind for him than that, he might actually die.

She flipped open her yo-yo and pulled something from inside.  A little vial?

“I remembered you saying that you hated Adrien: the Fragrance,” she started, rolling the glass between her fingers. A pinkish liquid sloshed inside.  “So I found out some scents that you like, and I put something together.  Making cologne is a lot like making the potions for our kwamis.”

“You… made this?”  He accepted the bottle, unscrewing the top to take a whiff.  It did smell wonderful.  Like roses and strawberries, with just a hint of rain.  Was it magical, like the potions she could create?  “This is amazing, my Lady.  But… when did I tell you I hated the fragrance they made me advertise?”

She smiled.  “That’s the other part of your present.”

His eyebrows creased, but before he could ask for clarification, she whispered, “Tikki, spots off.”

He stared wide-eyed as pink light washed over her.  When the sparkles faded, he gasped.

“Marinette.”  Her name tasted sweeter than the smells she’d mixed just for him.  “Marinette.”

He couldn’t say anything else.  His face was sore from smiling so much, but he couldn’t stop.  Ladybug was Marinette, and she loved him!

“That makes sense,” a voice said from behind him.  He almost screamed, but Ladybug—Marinette—slapped a hand over his mouth first.

“Kagami?”  She gaped.  Her hand fell from Adrien’s face, giving him room to turn around.  “What—what are you doing up here?”

Kagami crossed her arms over the lip of the trap door.  “Adrien didn’t come down.  Philippe told you not to take too long.  But I understand why you did.”  She nodded, as if thinking to herself.  

Adrien locked frantic eyes with Marinette.  Just because she was okay with revealing her identity to Chat Noir didn’t mean she’d be okay with Kagami knowing too.

“You… um… so how much did you…?”  He trailed off.

“I was waiting for you to finish kissing.  I’m told it’s impolite to interrupt.”

His eyes widened.  She’d been watching for that long?  He hoped she wasn’t upset.  Even if she didn’t like him romantically, it might still be awkward to watch him kiss someone else.

Marinette was bright red, but she cleared her throat.  “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“About your secret identity, or about kissing Adrien?”

“My identity,” she said quickly, looking more and more mortified by the second.

Kagami grinned.  It was a rare expression on her, but all the more special for it.  “I was only teasing.  Of course I will guard your identity with my life.”

Marinette smiled gratefully.  “Thank you, Kagami.”

“You’re welcome.  I’ll tell the others Ladybug dropped you off, so you were able to make it after all.”  She took a step down the ladder, before pausing and poking her head back up.  “And Marinette?  Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Of course.  He means everything to me.”

His heart warmed at the praise, at the way she said it so matter-of-factly.  

Kagami disappeared back down the ladder, leaving him and Marinette in silence that somehow felt both comfortable and vaguely awkward.

“So, uh… you don’t mind if people know that we kissed?”  He asked cautiously.

That finally made her laugh again.  “Of course not.  I was… well, I was hoping you were going to be my boyfriend.”

“Yes,” he said quickly, as if she’d change her mind.  “I mean—please let me be your boyfriend.  That would be the best birthday present ever.”

She took his hand again and squeezed it tenderly before slipping his cologne vial into his hoodie pocket.  He’d dropped it at some point while they were kissing.  Plagg, blessedly, did not complain, even though the little bottle probably bonked him on the head.

“Then happy birthday, boyfriend.”

[manggojooz]

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 6)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~3,300

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: none

previous part: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

Taglist: @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl @dollwithluv  @sweetcheeksdna  @yeontanie21 @peachygiraffe14  @jeontaes-world 

One. Two. One. Two.  

The thuds on the punching bag resounded around the warehouse. Your knuckles made cracking sounds after the hours of practice. Your shins were swollen from repeatedly hitting the stiff black fixture. The sweat on your forehead continued to drip down onto your lashes.  

“Come and take a break Y/N”, a much younger and more energetic Ssam Chun shouted at you. Your breathing was heavy as you sat down next to Ssam Chun on the cold hard floor.  

“Ya, how many times do I have to tell you... if you keep pushing yourself like this, it won’t do you any good” Ssam Chun handed you a neon-coloured isotonic drink.  

“How’s the new girl?”, you questioned him instead of responding to his nagging. 

“Yuri? That girl... she’s been whining the whole morning about how her hands hurt,” Ssam Chun snorted, “... she reminds me of you when you just started training haha, do you remember that you used to cry because-”

“Excuse me, nobody cried...”, you were rather offended. You were certain it was just a little tearing and not crying.  

SsamChun puts on his best judging face and then gave a little sigh, “But now you don’t make a sound even after hitting that thing for a good one hour straight... sometimes I wonder is this what humans are like?”  

“What do you mean?” you asked in between a huge gulp of the weird-tasting drink.  

Ssam Chun grabbed your hand and pushed the bandages on your knuckles aside, revealing your red puffy joints.  

“It’s not that the pain isn’t there anymore... look at this... but why do you not feel it anymore?”, he asked.  

For a moment you thought he was making an attempt to nag at you again, but he was not.  

---

A bolt of light flashes and you look up sharply, hands still holding on loosely to the bracelet bearing the carving. ″5.2″.  

“Oh hahah I thought it would good to capture your reaction when you first see the bracelet”, a man holding a chunky camera quickly proceeded to explain as he notices your expression.  

“This is Jason, Y/N. He's the main photographer today...”, and then the assistant director’s voice trailed off in your mind again as you refocused on the bracelet in your hands.  

How much does Jungkook hate this arrangement? How much does he hate you? To the extent that he would engrave the clause number “5.2” onto this bracelet. Now it didn’t look like a jewellery, now it looks like a handcuff. One that intends to constantly remind you that you are imprisoned in this arrangement too.  

The assistant director was still kind and gentle as she helped you to put on the bracelet and as she explained that the focus of the photos would not be on your face but she joked that you still shouldn’t make funny expressions lest it makes Jungkook laugh instead.  

“Are we starting yet?”, Jungkook walked over and peeked at the bracelet which was now securely circling your wrist, the corner of his lips involuntarily raising a little.  

---

The photography session was quick, they only wanted one or two good shots after all.  

One of Jungkook’s hand was on your waist, his other hand holding onto yours which was placed on his chest, exhibiting the bracelet that felt cursed. Your back was facing the camera and Jason instructed you to rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.  

As if there were a thousand needles poking through his shoulder, you carefully pretended to rest your head, the side of your chin barely even touching the material of that fancy jacket he donned. Your other hand hovering behind his back not daring to touch him at all.  

The thin air between you and him formed the thickest barrier in this world. “Looking good, both of you...” Jason continued to say encouraging words as you listened to the shutter click away.  

Jungkook stepped away quickly once Jason shouted “OK! Done!” and now your hands were just hovering in thin air.  

You again felt that ghostly feeling of someone watching you but as you looked around there was no one suspicious at all.  

“We are leaving soon, go get changed.” Jungkook whispered in a hushed tone.  

You looked at him icily, not saying a word before stalking off.  

---

From then on time passed peacefully on the surface for a few days.  

The drill was simple. Wake up, go to work, look out for suspicious people around the boys, have lunch with Yuri, sometimes the managers joined you girls, head home when the boys’ schedule ends, make sure to check their apartment for any intruders or suspicious activities and then turning in for the night.  

The days were always long, as one would expect. During these long days you could not help but occasionally notice the metal cuff on your wrist. Every time you observed it, it hurts a little less.  

He hardly spoke to you ever, only meeting your eyes unintendedly now and then. There was once he looked at you for more than five seconds because your phone was ringing incessantly and Yuri had picked it up and yelled at the other side to “stop calling already!”  

But the moment you locked eyes with him, he looked away nonchalantly, without even blinking.  

---

The main schedule of the day is a filming for their own programme. The company had rented out a small studio near the office for the filming. It had been going on for hours and you had not bothered to go in to watch the progress.  

From the glass window you were sitting next to, you could see the sun slowly setting, indicating the near end of another tiresome day. You hear someone walking towards you and from the corner of your eyes it looked like a shadow – it must be Yuri.  

In her usual full black attire, Yuri strolls up to you, “I thought you would more excited to watch them film such things than I would be...,” she sat down next to you on the artsy looking bench in front of the clear window.  

“I should be excited...” you muttered and could not help glancing at the bracelet on your wrist.  

Yuri sighed, “It must be hard to know that all the while what you thought he was... was not real... but I don’t think he’s a bad person... you guys just met under the wrong circumstances.”  

“Actually... I’ve been avoiding him not because I think he is bad or anything... I mean yes he’s not the nicest to me but if I were in his shoes maybe I'd be the same too,” it was difficult for you to gather how you really felt, “but I feel somewhat bad about being his fan previously... I’m not sure if I’m feeling this way because now I realise everything was fake or was it because I realised how foolish I was then.”  

Yuri’s expression suddenly turned very serious, “What’s wrong with being a fan? You said so yourself to me... You like his music, you like the way he works hard to deliver his performances and you like the way he communicates with his fans, so what’s wrong with being his fan? Why do you need to feel bad now...”

Before Yuri could finish her counselling session with you, a bunch of people started flowing out into the hallway where both of you were seated – a familiar sight of people carrying clothing racks, huge boxes, files, cameras and all that fancy stuff.  

The last of the people to exit were a few of the boys and the managers. Myunghoon was around today too, it had been a while since you saw him with the other managers. He tilted his head slightly to signal that it was time for you two to get going too.  

Springing back on to your feet you walked up together with Yuri, gathering in the middle of the hallway. “We are still waiting a few of them to finish up...” Myunghoon said.

“I’ll go use the washroom for a moment then,” you whispered to him and he gave you a little nod.  

---

The water flushes really loudly and you used it to your advantage to cover up the sigh you let out, even though when you entered you were sure that there was no one else around.  

What was wrong with you? Yuri was right, you never thought of Jungkook as anything more than an idol that you liked because of their music and their performances. What were you so hurt over? You are feeling increasingly like an idiot by now.  

Just then, darkness suddenly surrounded you – the lights in the washroom had gone off. Immediately, you snapped out of all those thoughts and returned to the alertness that defined your occupation.  

With your left hand slowly grasping the door lock on your cubicle, you carefully tried to open the door. The door wouldn’t move. That was when you realised this was definitely not a simple power trip, someone must be outside.  

Without any warning to whoever was out there, you rammed your side into the cubicle door trying to barge through it. You could hear some shuffling noises and you made no attempt to say anything as you knew there would be no favourable response anyway.  

Your second attempt to burst through the door showed promising results, but the mysterious assailant shoved the door hard causing you to tumble back a step. Just then a shrill voice shouted through the rustic silence “I hate you!! You should die!!”  

You were stunned for a moment, but quickly lunged for the door again while shouting back, “Who are you?!”  

Then the final act came pouring down on you, quite literally. There was water everywhere, pelleting down on you harder than a thunderstorm. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you tried to look up for the source of the downpour.  

“YA!!! Who are you?!” you continued shouting. There was no response and no matter how hard you pushed the door would not budge anymore. You finally managed to find a blind spot from the storm in the cubicle and saw that the mugger had thrown two huge hoses over the top of the cubicle door, which were now spraying waterfalls onto you.  

The cubicle was completely sealed other than the top. You hastily took out your handphone and dialed for Yuri.  

“Yuri, someone attacked me in the toilet... don’t ask for the details now, I'm fine... it’s a girl I think... she might still be in the building,” there was not a moment to waste as you called Yuri to action.  

Once you hung up, you put down the toilet seat cover and mounted it. It was a good thing the cubicle walls were sturdy enough to sustain your weight as you lifted yourself up over it into the adjacent cubicle. Once you were out of your confinement, you saw that your cubicle door was blocked by one of those huge carts that the janitors use. Almost on the verge of swearing, you turned off the hoses and dashed out, avoiding looking at your state in the mirrors.  

---

You dashed across the hallway, leaving a trail of water behind you. Myunghoon stared at you in shock as you tried to run past him.  

“Where are you going?!” he shouted and grabbed you by the arms.  

“She must still be around, we need to find her!” you yelled back.  

“Yuri and the rest are looking for her” he chanted repeatedly as he dragged you towards the studio. Myunghoon pulls you through the studio set into the dressing room at the back. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jungkook were still in the room packing up their things and they looked visibly shocked when Myunghoon pulled you into the room.  

“Hyung.. What happened?” Jin stammered.  

“Maybe you guys should clear out, on your way out can you get one of the other managers to look for some towels or clothes... I’m not sure if they have any spare though...” Myunghoon was aware that you probably hated to be seen in this state.  

To be fair, at this point you could not really be bothered by how they saw you anymore, but you still wanted to avoid any awkward conversations or eye contact.  

“I have some spare clothes,” Jungkook said a little hesitantly.  

“You do? It's spare or you need them for later?” Myunghoon marched over almost immediately.  

“I was planning to go to the gym after this so I brought some clothes...” just as his sentence ended Myunghoon snatched the bag from Jungkook’s hands.  

“Thank you very much then if that’s the case,” Myunghoon chirped. Jungkook look slightly taken aback though.  

You had been staring at an empty space on the floor for a while now, hoping they would hurry settle it and leave but then a white patch appears before your eyes. 

“I have a spare towel... thought I would sweat a lot from today’s filming but I didn’t get to use...” Yoongi muttered, his words slurring as always. There was hardly an expression on his face as he offered the pristine towel to you, raising it closer to your face when you failed to accept it.  

“Ah... thank you...” you replied as you took it.  

With that they left the room and you were on your own to clean up the mess that was yourself. 

---

Sejoon shoves a cup of hot tea into a whiny Jungkook’s hands.  

“What are you complaining about? Do you think she wanted it to happen? I know it’s not your fault that those sasaengs are crazy... but it’s not her fault either! And whose fault is it that her name has to be thrown out there as your fake girlfriend?” a rather stern Sejoon was chiding Jungkook to deliver the tea to you. 

Jungkook turned silent for a moment. The past few days he had been so immersed in his inability to control the public sentiment, and the lousy circumstances that made him unable to clarify and say what he wanted to. There was a lot he was not satisfied with, including how you, a fan, was allowed to be his bodyguard. He momentarily questions if he is taking out too much of his dissatisfaction on you.  

“You guys should have never let her become our bodyguard...” Jungkook gripes one last time and Sejoon was just about to tear him a new one but Jungkook escapes with the hot tea in his hands.  

---

“Yes, come in please,” you answered the knocks on the dressing room door while continuing to squeeze the moisture out of your heavily drenched hair.  

You sat up tensely when it was Jungkook who entered.  

He cleared his throat awkwardly as he notices you were now wearing his baggy black T-shirt and track suit pants. They were obviously ill-fitting and he wondered if you had always been this small; he never really noticed it.  

“Sejoon hyung said you should have some hot tea before we go off, they are still looking for the attacker...” he murmured as he places the cup onto the table in front of you.  

“Thanks...” you whispered back.  

He sits down on the couch opposite you and you looked at him in surprise.  

“Is it your first time meeting a sasaeng?” he asked curiously. 

You were suddenly reminded of the time he suggested that you could be a sasaeng too and a wave of emotions hit you again to know that you were being compared to this type of horror.  

In your trance you sarcastically replied, “Well I guess other than myself, this is probably a first.”  

He looked at you nervously, knowing clearly that you were referring to his past statement. He took a deep breathe before apologising, “I’m sorry for insinuating that you were a sasaeng... I was just really annoyed at that time...”  

You still looked at him coldly, his words only confirming the fact that he took out his annoyance on you.  

“Forget it...”  you responded after a pause, “I can see why you are so sensitive if such things can happen anytime like this.”  

He was so shocked that you let the topic go so easily that he blinked a few times confusedly.  

“It used to be worse,” he quickly said, as if he wanted to avoid giving you any chance to go back to being angry. “When I first encountered them I got so angry... scared... they would say such weird things and I had no idea what I was supposed to do or feel. But... nowadays I don’t feel it that much anymore, most of the time at least, but once in a while when it gets really serious I guess I still feel something...”  

He observed you carefully as he rambled on but you were busy packing all the wet clothes into a plastic carrier that Myunghoon had left with you.  

Without much warning to him and as you were stuffing Yoongi’s towel into the carrier, you suddenly asked “But why do you not feel it anymore?”

His gaze on you changed into one with a shallow depth. After a moment of contemplation, he seems to have found the answer.  

“For survival... how else do you think I am able to live if every such thing is going to get to me?”  

“So does that mean you regret choosing to be an idol?” you continued probing.  

He frowns at you, “Do you regret becoming a bodyguard?”

“At times... but mostly no,” you answered.  

“It’s the same for me too. At times, some times when I really cannot ignore it, I do regret. Why did you choose to do this though?” he felt this conversation was rather intriguing.  

“It was the one thing I could do I guess... or rather the one thing I could do and which made me feel like I am alive... That it was worth my time and my life”, you tried to summarise your thoughts.  

“Feel alive... Is it how it’s like in the movies? When something dangerous happens and you put yourself in danger to protect your “clients” and that makes you feel alive?” he asked a bit too earnestly.  

It was as if the time had hit a pause button, you couldn’t move at all. You never really thought about why you felt this way doing this job after all these time.  

He laughed softly, “They make me feel that way too...”, he concluded. The annoyance was returning back to him. He was ready to get up, dismayed to be reminded that it is the attacks, the harsh comments, the antis and the sasaengs who constantly remind him of his duties as an idol; is that what feeling alive is supposed to be then?

“There is a little girl I know who used to be really scared of “monsters” living under her bed...” you began saying out of the blue, “She would always beg me to check under her bed every night before she would sleep. I did it every night for her... It meant the world to a three-year-old. The way she thanked me and relied on me helped me survive the times when I felt like I had no other value in this world. She made me feel alive.”

Jungkook looks at you intently as you continued, “I don’t know if you get my point but it’s not about how much danger I overcame or how much pain I had to endure or what greatness I achieved. In the end I felt alive because I touched another life – I valued her and in turn, she valued me.”  

If he said he understood what you were trying to tell him it would probably be a lie, but he felt like it meant something more than he could comprehend in that instant.  

You stood up straight to try to match his height, “Don’t feel alive because of the bad things you have to go through. Look at all your fans who have been touched by you... the fans who love you. Feel alive for them.”

With that you thought the conversation was done and you picked up the bag of clothes, turning to head out of the room.  

“Were you...” his voice puts a stop to your steps, “one of them?”  

[muse539]

We Don’t Know What’s Out There

So my friend M is a bad (fantastic) influence, and when I shared an instagram post that was basically a prompt with them, they encouraged me to write it. So, I did. Read it on Ao3!

Summary: While Mike Newton is waiting for the semester to start at his Sacramento college, he finds himself turning to the TV show "Ghost Adventures" to keep himself entertained. He knows it's all fake, of course. At least, he thought he did, until he finds himself looking at a familiar face.

....

“The ghost we’re hunting tonight is Edward Anthony Masen Jr. He was a patient at this Chicago hospital during the Spanish Influenza in 1918, until he vanished without a trace.”

"Is that... Cullen?"

After finally, mercifully, at last leaving Forks in early August, Mike Newton found himself without much to do. His parents had insisted that he move down to Sacramento before the semester started.

That would make sense, except that the semester didn’t start for three weeks, and Mike was bored out of his skull.

So, like anyone might in his situation, he turned to the TV to occupy his time. It was a small thing, but it would get the job done.

Huh, wonder what’s this about, Mike thought, pausing his rapid flipping on five guys in a dark hallway, decked out in night vision equipment. The banner in the bottom of the screen said “Ghost Adventures.”

“Elizabeth, speak to us, ” one of them said, holding out a radio.

Huh. Might as well see what this is about.

---

It was a quiet evening in the Cullen house. Renesmee was visiting Jacob on the reservation, much to Edward’s chagrin.

“If you keep frowning like that, your face might get stuck that way.” Bella used her thumb to smooth out the skin between her husband’s eyebrows before cupping his cheek. Bella didn’t like being away from Renesmee any more than Edward did, she was just better at hiding it.

Edward sighed, leaning into Bella’s hand.

Dude, you’re pathetic.

Edward shot a glare in Emmett’s direction before meeting Bella’s eyes. “It’s hard, her being where we cannot.”

“I know.” Bella sighed. “At least we know Jake would protect her, if anything happened.”

“Hmm.”

---

Man! Who knew a communications class would be so hard! Mike turned away from his homework. Spring semester had been kicking his ass for weeks now.

At least he lived on his own. Mike couldn’t imagine what it would be like, having to share a room the size of a shoebox with another person. Especially since they probably wouldn’t let him watch his favorite show!

“Ghost Adventures” had pretty quickly become Mike’s latest fixation. He’s never missed an episode, a fact he is shamelessly proud of.

From the corner of his desk, his phone buzzed. Jessica, of course.

Mike has been trying to shake her off for months, to no avail. He sighed.

That’s it, that’s enough for today. Mike pushed away from his desk and turned on the TV. Ghost Adventures would be on soon.

---

“Don’t ‘hmm’ at me,” Bella smiled, “use your words.”

“Yeah, Edward, use your words .” Emmett guffawed.

“ That’s it.” Edward started to rise out of his seat, and Emmett happily took a defensive stance.

They launched at each other.

From upstairs, Esme’s voice rang out, “You boys better mind my furniture!”

---

A few miles away, in La Push, Jacob and Renesmee had just gotten back to Billy’s house. The Pack had gone cliff diving, and Renesmee insisted on attending, even if it gave Jacob a heart attack.

“I’m just as durable as you are,” she’s said, in that special way of hers.

“I know, I know. But you’re not even one yet, Nessie!” Nevermind that she was already the size of a 10-year-old at just 9, almost 10, as Nessie enjoyed reminding him, months old. “It’s the principle of the thing!”

Renesmee just pressed her desire into his skin harder. Jacob was powerless.

“Okay, okay!”

And so they’d gone. They had a fantastic time, once Jacob “got over himself,” as Seth has put it.

Now, they were nestled on Billy’s couch, flipping through the channels. Renesmee stopped him on one.

“Oh, Ness, you probably won’t want to watch this. It’s scary.”

There were questions in Nessie’s hands.

“It’s about ghost hunting. Or, at least, that’s what they think they’re doing. We both know ghosts don’t exist, but they play a lot of scary music, and they try to freak you out. Frankly, I think it’s kind of funn-”

“The ghost we’re hunting tonight is Edward Anthony Masen Jr. He was a patient at this Chicago hospital during the Spanish Influenza in 1918, until he vanished without a trace.”

Nessie’s hand pressed insistently to his cheek. “Daddy?”

Jake was in shock. “Uh, yeah. That’s your dad. Hold on-” he reached for his phone.

---

Breaking away from Emmett, Edward picked up his phone when it started to ring, heart sinking when he saw Jacob’s name.

“Jacob? Is everything okay?” Every eye in the room turned to Edward, each vampire holding their breath.

“Turn on Ghost Adventures right now! They’re talking about you!”

Bella had the TV on before Jacob finished speaking.

“ Will Edward be among the spirits we talk to here tonight?”

---

“The ghost we’re hunting tonight is Edward Anthony Masen Jr. He was a patient at this Chicago hospital during the Spanish Influenza in 1918, until he vanished without a trace. His parents, Elizabeth and Edward Masen Sr., were also patients, and their bodies were recovered.”

During Zak’s monologue, a blurry photo of the Masen family was shown. Mike dropped his hot pocket.

“Is that Cullen?”

---

Mike Newton watched the rest of the episode, growing increasingly nauseous with each passing minute.

The guy in the photos, Edward Anthony Masen, looks almost exactly like Edward Cullen. But there’s no way, right? Even if that Edward had survived the Spanish Flu, there’s no way he’d still be alive now. And even if he was , he wouldn’t look like Edward Cullen. He’d be a wrinkly old man!

Yeah, yeah, Mike told himself. There’s no way. That’s crazy though, Cullen is a dead ringer for that guy. Wow.

---

After that night, appearing on ghost shows became a bit of a running joke in the Cullen household. They had a white board set up behind the television, keeping tally. Given how often paranormal TV shows enjoy venturing into abandoned hospitals and psychiatric wards, Edward and Alice had the most marks, with Alice in the lead, to her unending delight.

One of Emmett’s favorite pastimes, whenever one of them appeared on an episode, was to sit in front of the TV shouting “they’re right here, you idiots!” and “boo!”

Renesmee erupts into giggles whenever he does it, so no one has asked him to stop.

---

Mike Newton has yet to move home from Sacramento. He’d visit Forks during school breaks, and stay for most of the summer, but he kept his apartment in Sacramento until he graduated.

Once it was time to move out, however, him never moving home for the summer came back to bite him.

“ How have I accumulated so much crap ?” Mike sighed as he looked over the haphazard piles of things he needed to shove into boxes. His parents would be here in a few hours with a trailer.

Resigned, Mike sighed and grabbed the first box.

He got distracted, naturally. He had found a box with old high school memories, and was laughing at a picture of himself and Bella “playing” volleyball in the yearbook.

Beneath the pile of yearbooks, there was a thick, nicely printed envelope addressed to him.

Huh. What’s this? Mike thought, as he pulled it out.

“This” was a wedding invitation. Bella’s, actually. Mike smiled. He wondered how she was doing, and resolved to check in with her when he got home.

Over the next few minutes, Mike found his eyes repeatedly straying back to the wedding invitation. Something about it was nagging at him, but he didn’t know what.

I mean, I’ve always thought it was weird how people put their full names on their invitations. Michael Welch Newton? No thank you. He shuddered, and his eyes strayed to the invitation once again. Isabella Marie Swan. That has a nicer ring to it, I guess. But Edward’s is a mouthful. Edward Anthony Masen Cu-

Mike paused. Why did that name sound so familiar? He pulled out his phone. This is probably a long shot . He typed Edward’s name into the search bar.

No results for ‘Edward Anthony Masen Cullen,’ two million results for ‘Edward Anthony Masen.’

Mike dropped his phone.

---

The banner stretching across the windows in the back of the house read “Happy Fourth Anniversary!”

Bella clasped her hands together, and silently thanked that she couldn’t blush anymore. “Aw! You guys are so sweet, thank you!”

“And of course, we have gifts!” Alice beamed at the couple, only Jasper’s hand in hers stopping her from bounding across the room to pull her siblings into a hug.

That, after all, was Renesmee’s job.

“Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!” Ness threw herself into her parents arms. Now almost 4-years-old, Renesmee was the size of a 16-year-old, but had a maturity far beyond her years.

Bella and Edward smiled at their daughter, and simultaneously pressed stone kisses to her flaming cheeks.

Soon after, Jacob’s pack arrived. Over the years, Leah had warmed to the Cullens considerably, though she still scrunched her nose for the first few minutes she was inside. She, Jacob, and Seth each greeted Edward and Bella with a scorching hug.

“Happy anniversary, guys!”

“Thanks, Seth.” Edward smiled while Renesmee went and claimed a couch for her and Jacob.

“Okay, gifts!” Alice flitted around the room. Bella sighed.

Jasper raised an eyebrow, smiling. “You should be proud she lasted this long, Bella.”

Bella laughed. “Yes, heaven forbid Alice learn restraint .”

“ Hey! ”

Bella stuck her tongue out at Alice, Emmett guffawed, Renesmee stifled her laugh in Jacob’s shoulder.

Alice bounced back towards and thrust an envelope into Bella’s hands. She opened the envelope and pulled out 4 plane tickets, round trip, to Ireland.

“Wow, Alice. Thank you, this is too much.” Bella stood and pulled her sister into a hug.

“Well, I wanted to make sure that it was a place that was cloudy enough for you all to go outside during the day, and also spoke English. As fantastic as your German is, Bella, I’m not sure how long you could survive.”

Bella playfully snarled at Alice; Alice cheerfully stuck out her tongue in response.

“I’m just glad you’re getting out of the country so we’re no longer in the blast radius of your hot, passionate -”

“Emmett!” Bella shot a glare in his direction before glancing at Renesmee.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

---

Mike Newton was only staying on the Cullen’s front porch out of sheer force of will. Hell, he was only standing out of sheer force of will. He’d barely slept the last few days, hell, months . Mike had become obsessed, reading everything he could about Edward Anthony Masen, which wasn’t much, and then about the Cullen family--which was somehow even fewer. No social media, no public marriage licenses. He’d found just enough to suggest they existed, not much more. He was no private investigator, but it still rubbed Mike the wrong way.

Dr. Cullen opened the door. “Mr. Newton! What brings you here? Are you alright?”

Mike tried not to throw up. “Yeah, uh, hi! Dr. Cullen. I, uh, well, here’s the thing,” he took a deep breath. “This is probably going to sound ridiculous. I think I’ve actually gone insane, lost it, like my gran. Ha ha! Yeah, uh.”

WIth each word, Dr. Cullen looked more and more concerned. Over his shoulder, Mike could see a ‘Happy Anniversary’ sign.

“So, um, if you could just confirm something for me real fast, that would be great. Spectacular really.”

“Of course, what do you need, Mike?”

The words rushed out of him. “If you could just tell me that Edward is not actually a ghost that somehow has a physical body that would be great.”

The man himself walked into Mike’s field of vision. “Ah, you saw the ‘Ghost Adventures’ episode too, did you? It’s amazing, how much we look alike. Edward Anthony Masen is a cousin of mine, on my biological father’s side.”

Mike blinked dumbly. “Oh. Huh. That, uh, makes a lot of sense. Huh. Okay. Um, thanks, I guess.”

“Of course.”

Smiling, Dr. Cullen closed the door.

---

“What the fuck was that ,” Jacob asked.

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose. “It seems, rather annoyingly, that Mike Newton is more clever than I gave him credit for.”

“This is dangerous, Edward,” Carlisle looked nervous. “These shows, and their digging into the past… people that have seen us are starting to recognize us.”

“Surely there is something we can do?” Esme placed a calming hand on Carlisle’s arm.

“You just saw it,” Alice chirped. “Play it off like we’re our own long-lost relatives. We’ve all seen it before; humans want to accept the most reasonable explanation.”

They lapsed into silence, lost in thoughts.

“Edward may want to lose the middle names, though,” Rosalie drolled.

“Yeah,” Leah scoffed. “Probably.” Renesmee laughed.

The tension broke, and their day resumed.

“So,” Jacob swung a fist and bumped Bella’s arm. “When do you want to go to Ireland, bestie?”

Bella groaned.

[toughfaun]

Hi, I don't really post what I'm writing here. I've never really had the confidence and I am in a constant battle with my agoraphobia.

I only showed this story that I'm working on to one person. He never got the chance to tell me what he thought about it.

I don't like the silence so I was hoping that in posting this here, even if no one sees it, even if no one cares, that it will bring some type of peace.

Word Count: 1.5k

Title: Lucy Lovingstein

Status: Work in Progress

View on Google Docs

She rushed into the room bringing a gust of wind with her, her shoulders tense, her hair tousled as if fingers were ran through it repeatedly with ambition, and her face a scowl held hostage, cheeks puffed out as if her mouth was full though I knew it wasn’t. “I left him, Patty.” She threw her body down onto the chase in front of me, the place I would have normally sat while I was reading, but decided not to today. “I left him.”

Him, being the man she left us for, left me for. His name was. . .well, is that important? No, it is not. It was an ugly name anyway. 

She fell in love suddenly and left just as so. Sudden was her nature, after all, slow was too much for her. It always had been and always would be, which is why she fell out of love with me far quicker than I could have or wanted to. She left for a dazzling city with him. The city being New York, where life was so fast that you had to run even in your sleep. She’d sent a postcard, barely any handwritten words. I could count them on one, maybe one and a half hands. ‘Life is great.’ She started, ‘Miss you much.' and there at the bottom she signed her first name as I knew it, ‘Lucy’ but with a new last name, his last name ‘Lovingstein’ it was likely made up by one of his ancestors but it was real for him. As stupid as it were, was, is.

He took her to places that she had never seen, lived life faster than a winning racehorse. While I sat here at home, working as I usually did and then coming home to an empty home as I usually did and made dinner and read all alone as I usually did. Nothing ever changed for me, not even that, not even the pain in my chest when I got the picture she sent me, the return address was in Vegas. The Vegas. And when I opened it, sure enough, there was a photo of them there, lips locked, hands in places nearing the obscene but the ring was still visible, gleaming even in the photo. Even now where we sit, my heart beats to her rhythm as if she and I were lying side by side again.

I’d made my peace with our lost love many years ago now, she was gone all of twelve, it took me ten and my late cat, Valentine, to feel less lonely. But now she walks in out of the blue, the first I have ever laid eyes on her in years and she barges in undeterred as if she’d left only yesterday, without a single call or even a letter or hell, another postcard. Her confidence has never shocked me more.

“Lucy,” I started placing a bookmark between the pages. “There are so many problems that you have risen that I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do you really still talk like that?” Her eyes were blue still, duller now than in my memory. Perhaps they were the same hue and my memory just applies a filter of sorts, one that makes things brighter and heightens the emotions.

Should I allow her to distract me? “Talk like what, Lucy?” I guess so.

She looked away as she removed her scarf, “As if your life is a book. As if everyone’s life is from pages of text instead of a world of color.”

I placed my book down on the table next to my mug of tea, still steaming but likely not for long. “Why do you talk as if you know me still? As if this is not the first time we have seen each other in twelve years?”

“I wrote you, sent postcards, pictures.” She laid her scarf down on the arm rest and looked back at me, I once again noticed her eyes. Such dull, sad eyes. “You never sent anything back. That is not my fault.”

"Ah yes, because you didn't constantly move and travel. Because I always knew where you were. It's certainly all fault of mine." She would forever be infuriating. I wonder, even now, how I ever loved her.

She waved her hand in the air, "It's no longer important, really. But I must tell you everything now, about him, about why I'm here, about all of it." Her voice cracked toward the end, perhaps it was emotion, or perhaps she needed a glass of water - either way I had little patience for it.

Most of me wanted to yell at her. Tell her how wrong she was to barge into my home, though it was probably on me for that. I'd never moved the spare key in twelve years, she must have guessed so, perhaps it was clear to her too that nothing had changed for me. Though that was no excuse for her to not even express the slightest glimpse of courtesy. Not a hello, or a how are you. But that was Lucy, she often skipped over greetings but not often did she skip over a goodbye. Maybe she liked muddied beginnings and clear endings. 

She wanted you to know when she was done with you. 

Over the years of both knowing and knowing of Lucy, I have received many a clear ending and muddied beginning. From friends to lovers suddenly when she kissed me. From lovers to nothing when she left me. From nothing to. . .distanced acquaintance when she sent the first post card and many start and stops whenever she felt like.

Though remembering it now, I'm unsure if our ending was ever truly clear. Perhaps our relationship was more of the metamorphosis type, not that I'd ever decided that or cared that it was. She left me.

I knew it was probably my weak willpower that allowed the thoughts of simply conceding and allowing her room to talk to enter my mind. Though perhaps, I was on to something, that if I allow her to speak her mind that maybe, just maybe I will finally be done with her. That the dull ache I feel now will finally subside and I can move on. Heaven knows I've already given my wounds much time. "Fine." I said finally, after a long stare down with her. The air in the room had gathered intensity, but not the uncomfortable kind, or the heated kind. It was the air of an anxiousness that had urgency, excitement, and a tad bit of familiarity. "Go ahead and tell me everything." As I gave her my full attention, I realized that even I, after all these years, missed her and the sound of her voice. I suppose that too had not changed. 

"There are so many stories to tell, there are so many paths and timelines that overarch into what he and I had and what it became. But I'll spare you those different tidbits-"

"How kind." I added. 

"Please save it until the end, Patty. I really would like to just say what I have to say and be done with it."

I nodded and continued my silence, a feat I had mastered over the years. Perfect silence.

"As you know, we married in Vegas eleven years ago now. And it was a happy marriage for awhile, for a long time." Her voice became somewhat solemn for a moment before it picked up. "But I was having the time of my life, seeing new things every day. Meeting new people every second. It was hectic and I wish I could describe how fast my heart was racing throughout all of it. The joy I felt, the amazement, the fulfillment. It was exhilarating." 

She had a smile on her lips and her eyes were faraway, likely reminiscing. Images from her mind's memory banks pulled to the forefront, she probably didn't even see me sitting there anymore. A memory was projected over me, maybe it was of the busy crowds of Vegas, the ancient beauty of Greece or Rome, perhaps even the Amazon jungle. Whatever it was she was seeing, it brought joy to her lips and a slight spark to her eyes. 

In a blink it changed.

"Eventually things changed between us. His love didn't feel the same anymore, he only wanted me to see the world through his rose colored glass. I wanted to see so much, but he wouldn't allow it. So I began to sneak off. I saw so much, the poverty, the history, the real people these places created. And I learned so much from them, for years I would just take a week and say I was going shopping or something and just disappeared learning all I could then coming back with random items to disguise my whereabouts." She chuckled. "It was when he finally caught me, that I began to see that I was simply a woman behind a lens for him. That everything about me, in his mind was rugged at first and so he was going to sand me down over the years. Transform me into his version of Lucy Lovingstein, the real me didn't matter to him, it never did." 

She stood then, walking towards the window slowly. Passing my tea that was definitely no longer steaming, and looking forlornly at the street through the glass as she pressed her body against the wall.

[loudlytransparenttrash]

Yesterday marked the 8th anniversary of the death of Trayvon Martin. Oak Park and River Forest High School students walked out of class and marched down the street wearing ‘We are Trayvon’ hoodies before returning to the school where they blocked the main hall’s entrance, chanting they will not leave until their “racial equity” demands were met by the mayor, which included removing police officers from schools and to mark February 26 a day for black victims of police violence. “We don’t need more police or a new police station. We need more resources for the youth of color here. We demand resources go to us.” 

Black activist groups and figures such as the The King Center, Black Lives Matter, The Breakfast Club, BET, Common, Kerry Washington, Al Sharpton, along with numerous politicians joined to remind everyone on Twitter that Trayvon Martin was murdered for being black. It blows my mind that even after eight years, nobody seems concerned with the actual facts or the law. It’s obvious how content they are to combine misinformation to reach their own ridiculous conclusion, which is then used to justify their own racism and hatred.

From the very beginning, it was obvious the media and activists were setting up a bad situation by portraying the incident as racially motivated, once that seed was planted, all reasoning was gone. George Zimmerman was already guilty no matter what the evidence showed. Trayvon was black, Zimmerman wasn’t, therefore it just had to be racism and anything that goes against that assertion is further proof of racism. I would bet anything that those high school students and every other race baiting activist using Trayvon’s death as a racial political play haven’t heard the facts that make up their entire misleading narratives. Here they are, make up your own minds.

The Hoodie Narrative

In trying to turn the case into a racial narrative, the initial burst of publicity and activism turned on Trayvon wearing a hoodie. The Hoodie has become the symbol of protests, based on the assertion that Zimmerman found Martin suspicious because he was wearing a hoodie. But transcripts of the 911 call shows Zimmerman mentions a hoodie only once, and only in response to a question by the operator as to what the person was wearing. The dispatcher asks, “Did you see what he was wearing?” which Zimmerman replies, “Yeah a grey hoodie, either jeans or sweatpants and white tennis shoes.” That’s it. 

That didn’t stop Michigan Governor Jennifer Granholm wearing a hoodie, the “Million Hoodie March,” Harvard law students wearing hoodies with a sign “Do we look suspicious?,” Congressman Bobby Rush appearing on the House floor in a hoodie, the Hoodie March in Washington, the Miami Heat in hoodies. The hoodie has come to symbolize alleged racial profiling by Zimmerman, yet the narrative is not based on any known facts connected to the shooting. While Martin was wearing a hoodie that night, there is only assumption that Martin was considered suspicious by Zimmerman for that reason. 

Even if he was, that’s not racial profiling, unless only black people wear hoodies? There had been eight recent burglaries within the gated community and residents reported dozens more attempted break-ins. It was at night and Zimmerman told 911 that Trayvon was acting suspiciously walking around looking at all the houses. Considering a search of Trayvon’s backpack at his school showed it to contain a dozen pieces of women’s jewelry, including silver wedding rings and earrings with diamonds, as well as a screwdriver, why can’t we even consider the possibility that Trayvon was acting suspiciously and the Neighborhood Watch leader was just doing his job?

The Racial Narrative

The only narrative we ever hear from activists is Trayvon was followed and shot because he was black. That’s as far as their logic meter expands. It’s based on multiple falsehoods, most particularly the NBC News doctoring of police audio in which it falsely made it seem as though Zimmerman said he was following Trayvon because Trayvon was black. But that’s not what happened. Zimmerman only mentioned race when the police operator asked about race. The dispatcher asked “Is he white, black or Hispanic?” and Zimmerman replies, “He looks black.” This is the only mention of race.

There also was the claim that Zimmerman used the term “f**king coons” on the police tape. The activists have used the alleged racial epithet endlessly to paint this as a racially motivated hate crime. CNN had to backtrack after the audio was enhanced and experts gave their analysis after CNN originally stated that Zimmerman said “f**king coons.” In the official affidavit by State of Florida investigators, they concluded Zimmerman used the term “f**king punks” when referring to the recent break-ins by teenagers. 

The biggest thing that nobody wants to talk about is the FBI investigation that found no history of racism in Zimmerman’s past. Zimmerman had earlier angrily spoken out against the beating of a black homeless man and started a local initiative to help him. Zimmerman and his wife had tutored black children, he was a registered Democrat and voted for Obama. To further push the ‘white supremacy’ narrative, Zimmerman is persistently portrayed as white, even though he’s listed as Hispanic in his voter registration and he’s very clearly Hispanic, have they even seen him? Yet, he is painted as a white supremacist who assassinated an innocent black male for no reason other than Trayvon was black, it’s this myth that's generating all the hate, violence and division. 

Oh, and there was also widespread claims in the media that neo-Nazis were patrolling the neighborhood where the shooting took place, but of course Sanford Police ruled this story out immediately. 

Zimmerman Disobeyed Police Instructions Narrative

They say George Zimmerman supposedly was told by the police dispatcher not to leave his car, but did so against police instructions. This allegation is used to claim that the entire confrontation was Zimmerman’s fault, and had he merely followed police instructions, nothing would have happened. Zimmerman was not in the car at the time of the comment “we don’t need you to do that.” The 911 transcript proves at no time was Zimmerman ever told to stay in his car. Trayvon had become aware that he was under observation and started circling Zimmerman’s car while Zimmerman was inside talking to the police. At about the two minute mark, Trayvon runs. When Zimmerman did exit the vehicle it was in direct response to the dispatcher asking him the direction of Trayvon’s travel.

When the dispatcher asked if Zimmerman was still following the direction that Trayvon ran, Zimmerman said yes, the dispatcher said, “we don’t need you to do that” and Zimmerman replied, “OK.” There is not a single piece of evidence, none, that Zimmerman continued to follow Trayvon after this point. In fact, in the audio, he continues calmly talking to the dispatcher, telling him his phone number and even saying, “I want to get out of here, I don’t know where this kid is,” all without any sign he was chasing after Trayvon. Trayvon had more than enough time to achieve the safety of his father’s girlfriend’s condo had he truly been fleeing from a frightening Zimmerman. Instead, it was found that Trayvon launched an attack on Zimmerman from behind as Zimmerman was waiting for the police to arrive. 

Stand Your Ground Narrative

Despite constant outrage over Florida’s Stand Your Ground law being used in the trial, calling it a “license to kill,” it was never used by Zimmerman’s defense. It made sense for Zimmerman not to rely on SYG, because Stand Your Ground would only be relevant if Zimmerman had a route of exit, but the shooting took place while Zimmerman was on his back on the grass, his head having been pounded on the pavement and being beaten relentlessly by Trayvon. Witnesses say exactly the same thing. Trayvon was on top of Zimmerman, beating his head into the ground as Zimmerman was screaming for help. Activists claim that it was Trayvon calling for help, but it’s been long confirmed that it was indeed Zimmerman crying for help. Zimmerman had a broken nose, two black eyes and cuts to the back of his head where Trayvon slammed Zimmerman’s head repeatedly into the ground. Zimmerman’s back was also wet and covered in soil. Activists argue ‘but Trayvon was just a kid and Zimmerman was an adult,’ that’s why they only ever use photos of Trayvon as a kid, they don’t want you to know that Trayvon (6’2″) was much larger than Zimmerman (5’8″) and was in far better physical shape and condition. 

Forensic analysis demonstrated that the trajectory of the single shot fired and burns on Trayvon’s sweatshirt were consistent with Zimmerman being on his back with Trayvon hovering over him at the time of the shot. Since Zimmerman was pinned to the ground, he didn’t need to invoke Stand Your Ground because there was no reasonable means of avoidance. While the jury instructions did contain language similar, the SYG statutory protection itself was never invoked.

Bottom Line - The Jury Got It Right

Every piece of material and evidence was considered in court including crime scene evidence, witness statements, cell phone data, reconstruction analysis, ballistics reports, medical and autopsy reports and depositions. The verdict came as no surprise to those actually following the evidence. It came as a shock to those who bought into the racially charged false narratives, evident by the eruption on social media, the mass rioting, the outbreak of violence and the eventual beginnings of Black Lives Matter who carried these fabrications and deceit into the Michael Brown case and have since continued to glorify and martyr criminals in their efforts to whip up hate against the police, whites and America. At least it takes the attention off the staggering rates of crime and black lives being murdered that activists can’t blame anyone else for. (1, 2)

It’s sad that cases like Trayvon’s is used to teach black children that they must live in fear and anger because racism and white supremacy is everywhere and that at any point they can be killed, all because they’re black. It’s child abuse. Of course we can mourn Trayvon and remember him, but let’s not use him as a radical race movement’s martyr. Protesting against myths ruins the legitimacy and integrity of any future protest against real racism. If we need to keep fabricating and twisting stories to prove that we’re being hunted and oppressed, shouldn’t that be evidence of the opposite? Shouldn’t it be a good thing that Trayvon wasn’t actually killed for being black? Unfortunately, too many will say no, which perfectly sums up the mental imprisonment and why nothing will ever change.