#all this to say I really like the story and I’d highly suggest listening to it

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Hitting On 16 is so darn good.

[mylovelies-docx]

Dinner & Diatribes

A/N: Hey, wow, look at me posting another fic!

This one has also been in the works for a while (if you know when Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier came out, you might realize just how long).

Highly suggest giving the song a listen! Or anything by Hozier, really. I finally get to see this man in concert, so I'm ecstatic!

This is 5k words of pure smut. No plot. I'm not sorry about it.

Plot (or lack thereof): You and Bucky attend a dinner party for a couple you saved on the last mission. Unbeknownst to the couple (or maybe they just don't care), they're being total cock-blocks.

C/W: Smut, smut, smut (18+, Minors DNI)

Kinks: Edging, choking, hair-pulling, spanking, fingering, public sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, cock warming, Bucky's metal hand (yes, it is a kink), reader is cock-drunk for half of the story. Probably more, let me know.

“Save some people one time, and they think they’re obligated to your free time,” you mutter into Bucky’s ear. He laughs softly and tightens his arm where it lays around your shoulders. Bucky knows that there’s no real venom behind your words, just disgruntlement that you’re not spending the evening alone like you had planned.

A destination wedding. How cliche. You didn’t know the couple, but your publicist insisted that you and Bucky attend their wedding. You’re currently sitting around a cramped table in the hotel restaurant, sipping greedily at your alcoholic beverage hoping to take the edge off.

The couple nearly broke down your and Bucky’s door an hour earlier, insisting that you join their wedding party downstairs for dinner. Their pounding on the door kept you from getting pounded by your boyfriend, and now you’re frustrated beyond belief. This nice dress should have been crumpled on your hotel room floor next to where you’d left your panties earlier. You wiggle in your seat as you’re reminded of your bare ass against the leather.

Buck reaches his metal arm across his body and rests his palm on the top of your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “The head is a talking type, yeah?” he whispers to you, nodding towards the head of the table who had been droning on (and on) about how they’d met their significant other at a galaaaa and they’d had canapes and spaaarkling waaaater while looking out from the verandaaaa in Viennaaaa. 

Seriously. Could they be any more pretentious?

You roll your eyes and bring your glass up to cover your mouth as you say, “Sounds like Tony before he ate a slice of humble pie out in the desert.” Bucky nearly chokes on his drink, spluttering and coughing into the back of his hand. He quickly recovers with an apologetic little smile and wave when the wedding party gives him a look, appalled that he’d dare interrupt the speech. They all face forward again when Bucky places his glass back on the table.

Bucky leans his head down so that his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“You better watch yourself, doll.” Bucky’s hand on your thigh slides to where your legs come together, too far to be of any use to you at the moment but tantalizing as the cool metal heats from the warmth of your skin. “The more we interrupt, the longer we’ll be here in hell.”

A smirk curves your lips as you place your hand on Bucky’s cheek and guide his head so you can whisper in his ear. The roughness of his stubble against your soft palm has you thinking of where else you’d like to feel the burn of his beard.

“I’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’ll do to me tonight.”

Bucky’s normally soft blue eyes find your own, and his gaze darkens as he stares intently at you. Your own pulse rises to match the thud of his heart where your palm has slipped down to cup around his neck. 

Bucky uses the arm on your shoulder and the hand between your legs to pull you closer on the padded bench. Your dress was too short to tuck underneath you as you sat down, and you’d been so turned on earlier that the slick between your thighs had escaped and caused your thighs to stick to the leather. The abrupt movement vibrates your skin, sending pleasure straight to your core. You close your eyes at the sensation and the feel of Bucky’s warm breath across your face. He’s pulled the thigh he was holding so that your knee is hitched up over his leg, leaving you open to the cool breeze flowing from underneath the table. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he coos softly, “You want me to tell you what I’d rather be doing right now?”

You breathe out heavily as your thigh brushes against the bulge in his pants, opening your eyes to look into Bucky’s bright gaze. “Tell me.”

His metal fingers inch their way up your thigh, coming closer and closer to where you want him most.

“Or would you rather I show you?” he breathes against your mouth right before he places a small, hungry kiss on your lips. You hum, trying to follow him as he pulls his face away. He nestles your head against his shoulder and acts like he’s paying attention to the speech again, but his index finger ever so gently runs along your slit, gathering the wetness that only continues to grow as he caresses you.

You whimper silently, aware that the people next to and across from you could look over at any moment and see Bucky’s hand at your exposed core. You grasp at his shirt and ever so subtly shift your hips. Bucky tsks softly and moves his arm down off your shoulders and around your hips so that he can hold you in place.

Bucky’s voice is husky in your ear. “You don’t want these people to see you grinding on my hand like the needly little thing you are, do you?”

You gasp as one thick finger suddenly thrusts inside you. You press your forehead hard into Bucky’s chest, barely stopping yourself from crawling into his lap and straddling the hard length that’s straining against the fabric of his slacks.

Just then, the person that had been talking for the last eternity finally ended their speech. Bucky curls his finger once inside of you before extricating his hand from between your tense thighs. You whine at the loss as Bucky very casually licks his finger and pulls his arm away from your hips. He shoots you a shit-eating grin as he claps for the next person standing up to speak.

“You wanted to know what I’m gonna do with you later tonight, right? I’m thinking something like that.”

You laugh as it sinks in. Bucky is only teasing you, and he’d never intended for you to get off on his fingers – or even come close to it – here at the table. Or at all, if he’s thinking of edging you all night. You can scarcely speak, thinking of what all he has in mind for tonight.

The dinner drags on. Bucky refuses to do anything more than kiss along your neck, or gently graze your nipples as he reaches across you for something, or hike your leg higher over his so that he can quickly rub your clit with his thumb for no more than a few seconds. 

You’re nearly out of your mind with lust by the time the end of the party is in sight. You’ve been able to drown out everyone’s voices with the brief feel of Bucky’s lips and hands, with the dirty visions of your anticipated release later tonight. 

You’re so wound up that you barely register the parting words of the final speaker until you notice everyone turning away to reach for their glasses. You compose your features into an expression that you hope is passable despite the heat suffusing your face and chest. Your unsteady breaths are barely concealed by the fake little laugh you let out as you raise your glass with everyone else. Your eyes travel from Bucky’s slick and shiny fingers all the way up his arm and to his face. He’s looking at you with eyes that promise so many things once you’re alone.

“And a thank you to our very special friends: the Avengers. Thank you both soooo much for taking the time away from saving the world to help me celebrate my world.”

You snap your gaze away from Bucky’s heated one and chuckle a little awkwardly as you look around. Everyone is looking at you now, and you hope like hell they’re oblivious to what Bucky has been doing to you for the last hour. You’re extremely conscious of the fact that you’re basically sitting in a puddle of your own juices, so turned on that you’ve soaked through the side of Bucky’s pants where your core has been trying and failing to grind against him.

The dinner party begins to make their goodbyes and stand to leave. A spike of anxiety shoots through you at the thought of having to stand up and expose the shine and slick coating Bucky’s leg and the seat beneath you. Your hand clenches around Bucky’s knee and you turn your face up to look at him. 

He gives you a soft smile and places a kiss on your temple before reaching for something on the table and ‘accidentally’ spilling a large glass of water as he pulls his hand back. All the contents in the cup cascade over the side of the table and into both of your laps. You jump up at the cold liquid hitting your sensitive thighs and feel Bucky jump up behind you, his entire lap soaking wet.

“You okay, dollface?” Bucky asks as he wraps you in his arms and pulls you away from the rapidly spreading puddle at your feet. You nod your head and wrap your arms around his waist. You’re so lust-rattled that you’ve turned into a needy and clingy little thing, unable to think any coherent thoughts until after Bucky lets you cum.

Bucky wraps his arms low around your waist, hands perilously close to groping your ass in front of everyone. You feel his cock pressing hard into your abdomen as you cling onto his front, causing you to shimmy against him. Bucky sucks in a quick breath before making his excuses and guides you both out of the dining room. He pulls you away from him so that you can walk beside him normally, but he grabs your hand in his large one and squeezes so that you know he doesn’t want to let you go.

He hustles you to the elevator and rapidly presses the call button. You turn so that the arm holding your hand is pulled into your body, cradling his bicep between your breasts. You grab at the other and entwine your fingers, lowering your hands so that his knuckles press into your mound right above your aching clit. You whine loudly at the feeling, uncaring of the people around you.

Bucky curses and pulls his hand away from your heated flesh. Pushing his now free hand through his hair, Bucky looks quickly around the lobby. He spots what he’s looking for and drags you through a door at the end of the room. Before the door even closes, he grabs both of your hands in his metal one and pushes you against the wall with your arms pinned above your head. He uses his flesh hand to grab at your knee and pull it up to his waist. You moan at the feel of him pushing against your center.

“Hell, sugar, you can’t do that in the middle of the fucking lobby.” Bucky rubs his nose along your jawline and up into your hair, breathing in deeply against your scalp. “There’s paparazzi standing right outside those windows.”

“Don’t care,” you whine, using your position to grind satisfyingly against his cock. “Need you, Bucky. Please.”

“Jesus, doll,” Bucky groans low in his throat, “you’re gonna get us in trouble.” But he’s as addicted to you as you are to him, so he drops your wrists and pulls you up into his arms, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and settle against him fully. You throw your head back against the wall and look above you, seeing dozens of sets of stairs spin into the highest reaches of the hotel.

Your moan bounces up into the echo chamber of the stairwell when Bucky thrusts his hips against yours roughly, fighting against the fabric of his pants to feel your wet heat on his cock. He grinds himself between your legs, the rough fabric covering his hard length providing the friction you've been looking for all evening. You gasp and tighten your legs where they've pulled Bucky in as close as you could get him, wanting – needing – to feel him buried inside you.

"Are you close, baby? Close to coming all over me in this stairwell?" He stops grinding for a moment to bounce you higher up the wall, putting a millisecond's worth of intense pressure on your clit. "Huh?" Bucky prompts.

"Yes," you mewl pathetically. You have one hand pushing against his shoulder while the other clasps his neck and pulls him into you, the stimulation too much for your body to know if it wanted Bucky to make you come or not.

Of course, you want it, your brain tells you. You want it oh so bad.

"Bucky. Please. I'm – ah."

"Yeah, baby?" Bucky teases you, using one hand to turn your face so that he can look into your cloudy eyes. What he sees there must spur him further in his own desire, because he suddenly plants a hard kiss on your lips and pulls away from you.

You drop down, barely catching yourself in time for your wobbly knees to support you. You nearly cry at the loss of contact, tears starting to form in your eyes. But as quickly as Bucky had dropped you, he scoops you up and over his shoulder. You feel a firm smack against your skin where your thigh meets the swell of your backside, and you can't help but cry out as the sensation travels through your skin and vibrates deep inside your pussy.

"Quiet, doll," Bucky admonishes as he climbs the stairs three at a time, "not a sound until we're in the room. Got it?" He asks again with another smack.

With your ass on full display over Bucky's shoulder, all you can do is wrap your arms around his waist from the back and feel the rush of blood flow to your head. 

"Good girl," Bucky hums at your silence. He massages the juncture of your legs, his long fingers nearly inside your slit. You gasp quietly with every bump as Bucky powers up the stairs to your floor.

Once at the correct level, Bucky wrenches open the stairwell door, making sure to keep you balanced up on his shoulder. He walks quickly to your room, digging the keycard out of his pocket and swiping it against the reader. You can’t see the red light, but you hear the indicator deny your entry.

Bucky curses and tries again. Another error code. 

You whimper pitifully from where you dangle, close to crying if Bucky’s cock isn’t inside of you soon. “Bucky. Baby. Please. I can’t wait anymore.”

Your cries force another curse from Bucky’s lips. He can’t stand how painfully needy you sound. Can’t stand not giving you exactly what you want from him.

He grabs the handle with his metal fist, forcing it downwards and breaking the locking mechanism. Finally gaining entry, Bucky walks in and kicks the door closed with his foot. Not wasting any more time, he throws you onto the bed, where you bounce several times on the plush surface. You spread your legs wide, laying there for several seconds. You enjoy the view of Bucky’s eyes on your exposed pussy as he shucks off his suit jacket and unbuttons the shirt beneath.

As his hands get to his belt, his eyes trail up from your glistening folds and pierce directly into your lust filled gaze. “All fours. Now.”

Not wasting a second, you turn over onto your stomach, pushing yourself up onto your knees and hands. You spread your legs apart, granting access for Bucky to slide in between them. But instead of a dip in the bed behind you like you’re expecting, you feel Bucky’s large hands grab onto your hips, pulling you backwards towards the edge of the bed.

You squeal in anticipation, feeling Bucky’s long legs press into your thighs. One of his hands circles around from your hip and cups your pussy. The other slides up along your spine until it reaches the back of your neck, forcing your top down until you’re resting on your elbows instead.

“I’m going deep, dollface. Take a nice big breath for me.”

If Bucky hadn’t reminded you, you’d probably have suffered from hypoxia since you’re sure you haven’t taken a breath since turning over.

You suck in a lungful of air as Bucky’s hand on your neck slides back down to your bottom and gives a quick slap. You shudder against him and almost collapse onto your face as he takes the hand from your pussy and lifts your thigh up and over the leg he plants on the bed.

Without a second’s hesitation, Bucky plunges his cock directly into your aching hole, filling you full to the brim.

You cry out in shock, your pussy spasming around his girth. No matter how many times you’ve taken him and no matter how wet you are, your body always forgets just how massive he is.

“That’s right,” he breathes, giving you a moment to adjust. “Just like that, baby.”

You moan and arch your back, hoping to accommodate quickly to this angle. When Bucky said deep, he meant deep. You can feel his cockhead nestled right up to your cervix, barely any room to spare. You’re so full – it feels as if your lungs can’t expand around his presence inside you. 

You take in gasping breaths, so turned on that you can barely hold yourself up. Bucky’s flesh hand soothes your backside, rubbing gentle circles around the red handprint you’re sure is there.

“Breathe, darlin’,” he reminds you.

Once he sees your chest expand with oxygen, he slides out nearly all the way before plunging back in fiercely. You scream in pleasure as he continues to pump into you with abandon, feeling the way his abs flex against your buttocks, how his cock slams over and over into your slick hole, how his balls slap against your clit. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your mouth on a particularly deep thrust, tears welling up and spilling out of your eyes. 

You reach one arm forward, grabbing for a pillow to bury your face in. The sensations are so intense that you need to bite down hard on the pillow, just needing to release the pressure building and building inside of you. You inhale your own hot, humid air as you struggle to take everything Bucky is giving you.

You’re so close to coming that you can’t think straight, but the rest of Bucky is so far away. You need to feel his whole body against you, need to feel his heat along your back and taste his tongue in your mouth.

“Bucky,” you whine, reaching a grabby hand behind you and looking to grab onto any part of him that you can reach. 

Your fingers barely scrape along the V of his lower abdomen, but Bucky scoops up your hand with his flesh one, the metal one still holding your thigh over his leg.

“What is it, baby?” he huffs. “What do you need, kitten?”

“You,” you gasp, leaving a trail of spittle from your mouth down to where you’ve had your jaw locked onto the pillow.

He huffs out a small laugh. “You’ve got me, Sugar.” He takes your entwined hands and uses your combined fingers to rub against your clit. “I’m right here.”

You sob at the pressure, too wound up to truly enjoy using the juices dripping from your pussy on your bundle of nerves. You shake your head, trying to figure out how to get your point across with what little vocabulary is left inside your sex-adled brain.

“You,” huff, “on me. My back.”

Bucky releases your hand and grabs your bicep, hauling you up until your back is flush with his chest and you’re sitting on his cock. You moan and bite your lip hard, leaning your head against his shoulder because you don’t have the strength to hold it up.

“This, baby? This what you’re wantin’?” he breathes against your ear, using both hands on your thighs to hold you up so that he can keep pistoning up into your cunt.

Shaking your head again, you take in the air Bucky is breathing onto your face, getting high off his pheromones. “Want you to – ah – lay on me. Hold me down.”

Bucky growls in your ear. Securing you against his chest, Bucky climbs fully onto the bed without breaking contact, leaving you impaled on his swollen member. The heat radiating off of him has beads of sweat rolling down your back and gathering in your hair. 

He stops at the pillow you dragged down earlier. Spreading his legs wide, he splits you open on his shaft before laying you both down onto the bed. His body crushes you into the comforter, your hips at an angle where they lay on your abandoned pillow so that he’s still able to leverage into you.

Totally ensconced in Bucky’s heat, you can feel every muscle of his as he grinds into you. The pressure of his body on top of yours collapses your lungs, making it hard to breathe. But that’s exactly what you wanted.

Bucky’s long, deep thrusts from your last position turn into short, brutal pumps. Your pussy clings onto his cock so tightly that you don’t think he could pull all the way out even if he tried. His hips beat against your ass, sending jolts to your clit where it grinds against the pillow.

Bucky’s metal grip winds its way up your body and into your hair. He grabs a handful and pulls your head up and around so that he can plant a sloppy kiss against your gasping mouth.

“This is what you were wantin’, ain’t it, sugar?” You nod as much as his hand in your hair will allow. Feeling his whole body working to give you pleasure sends every nerve fiber sizzling down into your core, putting you right on the edge of release.

“Wanted to feel me on you. In you. All over you? Huh?” Bucky’s words are harsh as he pants against your lips between thrusts.

There are no coherent thoughts in your head. You are so close you can taste it, but you need something. Something. Your blissed-out mind can’t think of what it is you finally need to tip over the edge.

But Bucky does.

His metal hand tugs hard on your hair before sliding down underneath you to grab at your throat. What little oxygen you were able to pull in before is now completely cut off, Bucky’s metal fingers dig into the soft flesh and nearly cut off circulation. His human hand snaps down to your clit and rubs harsh circles.

“Come.” He commands.

No sound escapes your mouth as you come hard on Bucky’s cock, spasming around the thick shaft and pulling him deeper into you. The world turns black as you ride wave after wave of pleasure, seeming to fall endlessly into ecstasy. 

When you’ve almost passed out from lack of oxygen, Bucky’s grip loosens just enough to revive you. You breathe in and out harshly, the air leaving your lungs in sharp gusts as Bucky continues to pump into you rapidly. 

“So good for me, baby,” he coos softly in your ear. You babble incoherently as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, breathing in deeply against your hair. “My sweet girl.”

You smile drunkenly at the praise, knowing that if he kept going like this you’d come again soon.

But before you can climb much higher, Bucky raises himself onto his elbows and slides out of you. The slick pop as the head of his cock leaves your tight entrance sends you spiraling at the loss.

“No, no, no, no, no…” you whine, trying to follow with your hips in the hopes that he’ll slide back in.

He laughs at you softly and kisses a trail across your shoulder blades. “Just a second, darlin’. I want to see your face.”

Bucky’s arms slide under your pliant body and flip you over onto your back. He grabs your ankles and plants your feet onto his shoulders so that you’re bent in half. He leans down until your knees are spread wide near your head and his lips are only centimeters away from yours.

If you thought it was hard to breathe before, this position shrinks your rib cage down to nothing, barely allowing for your lungs to expand more than a couple of inches. Bucky uses his metal hand to guide his cock back into your wet heat, setting a slow and languid pace.

His flesh hand comes up to cup your face, bringing you up so that he can kiss you lazily while taking long strokes in and out of your pussy. You huff dizzily into his mouth, trying your hardest to respond to his kisses. You bring your hands up through your legs and slide your fingers into his hair, keeping him close so that you can breathe the same air while he makes love to you.

The slow, gentle lovemaking sends you into a different kind of orgasm – one that starts as a soft fluttering of your walls and slowly morphs into a vice-like grip on his cock. You keen directly into his mouth, unable to pull yourself away from his lips even as you come apart. Bucky licks into your mouth, sucking your tongue and releasing it before nipping at your bottom lip. Picking up the pace, Bucky pumps into you until he reaches his own peak, grinding against you as his balls tighten and his warm seed leaks out of you.

“Bucky…” you breathe into his mouth. Your arms circle around his head and shoulders, pulling him down so that his face is nuzzled into your neck and you can plant soft, almost kisses to his temple.

You feel him grin into your throat and swipe his tongue briefly against your pulse. You giggle softly and tug at his hair. He raises up to look with a small smile on his face, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so that you can take a normal breath. You refuse to lose that much skin-to-skin contact, so you wrap your legs around his hips to keep him from pulling out of you any time soon.

He continues to grin down at you, sweeping a lock of your wet hair from your sweaty face. You smile up at him beatifically, basking in your post-orgasm haze.

He pulls your left arm from around his shoulders with his flesh hand. His eyes trace his gliding fingers as they make their way down your arm until he reaches your hand. He places a small kiss agaisnt the diamond ring sitting on your fourth finger before looking back at you.

“That’ll be us down there before too long,” he says to you, entertwining your fingers together and leaning back down to kiss your lips.

“What?” You question sarcastically. “That’ll be us cock-blocking some heros that saved our lives?”

“No, smartass,” he responds, tugging that same lock of hair from earlier with his metal hand. “It’ll be us not being able to shut up about how much we love each other in front of some heroes that saved our lives.”

“Yeah, well,” he responds slyly, “I’d already gotten you well and truly cock-drunk before Steve and Nat forced us on that ‘mission’.”

“Don’t let anyone on the team hear you say that,” you tell Bucky as you start scratching at his scalp with the hand he’s not currently holding. He closes his eyes and leans back down to rest his head on your chest. “They’re already insufferable since they think they set us up. Don't remind them they've saved our asses a couple of times."

You gasp lightly and playfully smack his head. “Bucky!”

He laughs heartily before he wraps both of his arms around your waist and nuzzles into you further. The movement causes you to feel his shaft begin to swell inside you once again. You wiggle against him and sink down further on his cock. He groans against your sternum as you flex your walls around him. “What, sweetheart? It’s the truth.”

You grab his cheeks with both of your hands and pull his face up to look at you. You pout your lips out in mock offense. “It’s not nice to point it out, though.”

He laughs and gives you a peck on your pouty lips. He rolls you both over until you are laying on top of his chest. His hands fall to your hips again and he looks up at you with mischief in his eyes. “Well, dollface,” he begins. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

You rest your palms on his chest and push yourself up. You grind your hips experimentally and watch as his eyes flash.

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

~•~○~•~○~•~○~•~○~•Fin~•~○~•~○~•~○~•~○~•

Please pay the Troll Toll: likes, reblogs, and comments mean the world to me! I'm always looking to improve my writing (I also like validation, please and thank you)

[purrplegyuu]

Cold | Choi Beomgyu

Index

Chapter four

Warnings: softie beomgyu, angst, mentions of sex, signs of abuse.

Word count: 1.3k

Taglist: @arianap23e, @haatohwa

OKOKOKOK I know you don't really like soft chapters because oc this is not a soft story, however, I think it was necessary because of the last one being soft and also because of whet do I want to show. Anyways, I promise the next chapter is not gonna be that soft. (I also wanted to say that I didn't like the beggining of this chapter T.T, but I think it gets better like at the middle?)

Let me know if you find any kind of mistake, i'm not a native speaker and this helps me so so so much ^_^

Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, if you want to suggest an event to happen on next chapters or if you have any question about any detail. Luv yaa (●'◡'●)

(Reblogs will be appreciated)

The boat glided smoothly over the calm surface of the lake, the rhythmic hum of the engine creating a soothing backdrop to the conversation between dad and Gaeum. As Luna landed on the other side of the lake, I noticed I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

He knows a lot about me, he knows my fears, he knows my blues, he knows at least a bit of my past, but I don’t know anything about him. And everything I think I do know, is just what I think of him, which makes me wonder if I will ever get the opportunity to listen to him talking about his own life.

We all get out of Luna easily, except for Gaeum, who seems to struggle a lot due to her height. Dad takes her hand, helping her, and even lifts her slim body when she acts scared of falling to the lake. 

I see Beomgyu’s hand tensing, his face almost annoyed at his own mother’s acting. He sits on the wood chair my dad and I did eight years ago, and I sit right beside him. 

While dad takes out of Luna all the food they packed, Gaeum fakes many attempts to try to help him, which makes him kiss her sweetly, telling her he can do it by himself. That’s her personality when dad’s around; the princess in distress.

I look at my phone for a few minutes, until all the meat and the vegetables are cooking on the grill. Everything seems so old, however −even though I haven’t come here since seven years ago−, dad kept paying someone to take care of everything, so it’s still clean and in fine fettle.

Dad sits on one of the chairs, talking about how his week went. He makes some jokes, and sometimes, some details from his story makes Gaeum and me laugh highly. He is so funny without even trying to be. 

“Why don't you like him?” I ask Beomgyu low. He turns around to face me, looking back at the grill fastly. I notice he’s ignoring my question, so I talk once again. “I don’t want you to treat him the way you always do” It’s like he's in a good mood today, which just gives me the confidence to talk firmly to him. “I don’t like your mother, and I’m not mean to her”

“I don’t like her either” His voice sounding so deep it sends shivers down my spine. I swallow hardly, turning around to see my dad looking at me.

“Are you eating, honey?”

“I’m not hungry”

When we are finally going on our way back home, I look at dad, wondering if this is a good moment to tell him about my phobia of darkness. I look at the lake in front of me, while the small waves of the water get lost where the lights of Luna ends. 

Dad starts driving Luna like he knows what’s the direction we are supposed to go, and I’d like to think he knows, because this is going to make me feel a bit less scared. 

I feel Beomgyu’s hand taking mine, giving me a comforting look. As I said Before, he knows me, he knows my fears.

Once we are at home, I can feel the anxiety decreasing on my body, finally walking on the stable land. I don’t wait for anyone to get out of Luna as well, I almost run to the house, turning on the most lights I can. It’s nine thirty p. m., and we are in the middle of nowhere—it’s obviously dark as hell, and I know if I look through the window, my fear will increase a lot, so I do not. 

I run upstairs and close my bedroom door, looking for my pyjamas in my bag, finding it fastly and putting it on. That weird but pleasurable feeling of the warm and comfortable fabric against my cold skin making me almost jump to my bed, ready to sleep. 

I always sleep before eight thirty p. m.

I take my phone, answering the messages Jiwoo sent me on the day. Nothing interesting, actually—she’s asking if I’m excited for the school trip we’re going to have next week. She says it’s special for me since it's my first one, however, it’s already getting boring to her since they always go to the same places. 

Someone knocks on my bedroom door, and I go open, thinking it’s dad telling me what time are we leaving tomorrow. However, Beomgyu’s in front of my door, wearing his emo-like pyjama, messy hair and the same weird soft and angsty aura he has since some hours ago. 

He looks at me silently, not asking before entering my room, closing the door, holding my hand and taking me to my bed.

I wait for him to kiss me, touch me, make any move before he makes me know we are going to have sex once again. Instead, he lays on my bed beside me, and rests his head on my chest, closing his eyes and falling asleep quickly. He likes to sleep at eight thirty too. 

When I feel him trembling some minutes after that, my hand goes to his head, caressing his soft hair sweetly until he’s sleeping calmly again.

This kind of softness makes me wonder why can’t we be this way always, why can’t he be this kind always, why can’t I feel like that always. 

My door suddenly opens. I see Gaeum on my door. She looks at me coldly, and I almost can feel her anger. Does it make us look guilty? We have been hiding what we have for so many time, which makes me think we are not that obvious. But our position now… I can always say we are just close enough to be friends and have sleepovers, right?...

However, I can’t even attempt to justify our position as she closes the door so strongly I startle. The silence after that just makes my anxiety increase. Until I fall asleep.

I wake up at two a. m. when Beomgyu’s phone starts ringing. He wakes up also, and I pretend to sleep, not wanting this soft moment to end. The name of his mother on his screen letting me know who is this about. He takes his phone answering the call. 

He listens to her. Then, he answers. “I don’t want to” The call ends. He looks frustrated as he looks at me one more time before getting out of his room, closing the door and walking out quietly.

The next morning, we are all in the car once again. Gaeum looked at me once in a weird way that make me feel a bit awkward. I look at Beomgyu, noticing a purple circle on his arm. Did she hurt him?

I can’t talk to him quietly like many times before because she is looking at me like she is waiting for me to do something. However, I don’t do anything. After some time travelling, she looks at me through the mirror.

“Jeongseo, do you have a boyfriend?” I frown awkwardly, turning to see Beomgyu, who looks at her weirdly. I almost feel like he would yell at her, and tell her to shut up if he wasn’t… scared?

“Am… no?” I answer. My dad looks at Gaeum like she’s doing something kind or something.

“Aw love, are you trying to get along with Jeongseo? That’s so nice!” But I notice this is definitely not her purpose. “I’m sure you’re going to be like real mother and daughter soon” I look Beomgyu one more time, but everything I see now is coldness.

[dead-set-goat]

Although spotify does it for you, i think it’s better to make your own music-year-review list. I want to share a few songs (and maybe a few words about them too) that have inspired, helped, impressed or spoke to me. This is also a very light personal year-review.

No particular order!

Every Day is Halloween by Ministry

Obviously, listened to this constantly in October but really works any day of the year, the message gets me going. Moving away from my parents and my hometown that very October, I felt free as all hell, free to be who I want to be, dress how I want to dress (or at least try!), it makes me want to fight for my skin :

I exclusively listen to music from an MP3 player when I’m out, fuck smartphones :))))))))), so the story of this: downloaded this whole album to my MP3 player for my trip to Greece this summer because I’d be out a lot, was just curious about ska punk, never listened to it before. And yeah, I fell in love with this, and Capdown. I listen to this when I’m on a rush always, gets me flying! (Yeah, nothing beats running and panicking about being late to an appointment to this)

Can’t recommend Swans early stuff enough! And the new stuff as well. Could swap this for Power for Power on Filth as well. Really good mechanic beats and cold lyrics, walking through a city as lively as it is decayed to this feels just right. A great inspiration for what I’d like to achieve with my music.

I quite enjoy (love with a burning passion) this album for the most part, I don’t listen to drum n’ bass on it’s own but, the metal combo to me hits just perfect. I think this song has the perfect amount of agression, melancholy, explosive distortion, and the best whiney guitar ever! I swear I can hear words of lament in that guitars voice… it’s awesome. It’s a very good song to drown out the noise of the Subway…

This album as a whole. My anxieties and anticipations for the future, my nostalgia and existential terror, agitated into soundwaves. Listening to this, on a suffocating late August afternoon while driving, feels like a thousand spent lifetimes.

I listened to this on easily one of the most emotionally charged days of my life. I was on a car trip across the country, it really hits different with neverending crop fields and rural sights and abandoned factories… For more context about the song, it’s a mockery of the former communist regime, the singer is posing as the dictator, singing about a carefree land preparing for winter, in which “everything is wonderful” and “perfect”.

This is a commuting staple. An industrial rock banger! I think the sound is easy to get into, good for guitars, good for the dance floors, a perfect combo. A fair bit of Machines of Loving Grace songs hooked me instantly.

Absolute dance staple. Strapped it to a wall in the hall of dancing-with-your-last-breath.

I had a panic attack while driving to this, on a bridge. That was an exciting time. I was going to the beach. In the winter. All the vibes were off that day, but in the best way possible. And this song took them all, it’s preserving them like alcohol. Oh also, saw a guy at the gym near my house that had a HEALTH tshirt and I was like, yoo, cool! Because really, rarely do you see people with taste here hah.

One of my industrial fascinations. Not exactly the eye opener (I’ll have that guy show up later), but my, sound has never felt so powerful and it’s not even booming-lound. I highly suggest listening this surround, but even stereo, it’s such a disorienting, enveloping experience.

OH SHIT. Audio limit for this post???

Look out for part 2

[book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure]

A Stark and her Soldier ~ Part 1

Imagine: Reuniting with Bucky when you end up helping Sam with the Flag Smashers.

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS! This takes place during the first two episodes of the show.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’M BACK (with a new header lol)!!! AHHHHHHHH! It’s been nearly two years but here I am… posting this makes me SO nervous, so feedback would be highly appreciated! More parts and some information about what I’m planning with this blog to follow soon! 

“You held us together – do it for them,” he paused before adding, “Promise me you’ll do it for them.”

You blinked away the tears, knowing what was coming, “I can’t promise that...”

“Y/N please,” the way he begged you with that shaking voice was nearly enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I promise.” He squeezed your hand before letting you leave.

“You’ve reached James Barnes, sorry I couldn’t take your call, please –” you hung up before the recorded message could continue, face burning with frustration. This was the 9th time you had tried calling him this week, not to mention the countless text messages.

You scoffed thinking of Steve’s last words to you, how were you supposed to hold them together when you barely held yourself together on a good day? It doesn’t make it any easier when the person you’re supposed to be holding together is so keen on letting himself fall apart.  

Every time you tried calling him, you ended up feeling furious, miserable, or like an absolute failure – usually all three. You promised Steve, you promised, and you failed. You groaned and chucked your phone across your bed.

The last time you had seen him, Steve had still been around, and you hadn’t even spoken to him since Tony’s funeral.

 You and Pepper had walked to the lake, each holding one of Morgan’s hands, and you had sat at the dock watching the arc reactor – his heart – float away, the people behind you forgotten in your grief. The weight on your heart was unbelievable, you had already lost your best friend, Natasha, and now your brother was gone.

You promised him that you wouldn’t cry at his funeral – he always knew it was inevitable – and so you sat there, sending him away with a pained smile.

You had no idea how long you had just sat there, staring at the horizon across the lake, trying to make this last moment with your brother last forever.

“Y/N?” You felt a hand squeezing your shoulder, “You should come back inside.”

“What happens now, Steve?” Your voice was softer than he had ever heard before.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together,” he paused for a moment before gesturing to Bucky, waiting outside the house behind him, “He wants to talk to you.”

You gave Bucky a small smile, “Hey.”

He walked over and dropped down next to you, Steve leaving the two of you to chat, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” You nodded solemnly.

He added, “For everything, Y/N… he probably wouldn’t even have wanted me here, but –”

You shook your head and took his hand, heart fluttering at the contact. You had always been attracted to him, and it had only grown with every interaction. “That wasn’t you.”

You knew your brother never blamed Bucky, you all knew how it felt to have people mess with your heads and Bucky had had the worst of it. He was furious at Steve for years, but never at Bucky – you could never bring yourself to be angry with either of them, not after the stories you grew up with. Your father had adored the soldiers and you had been one of their biggest fans, and later one of Steve’s closest friends.

There had come a point after the battle between Tony and Steve when you had become sick of all the back and forth. You were lucky enough to find an escape when T’Challa got in touch with you, offering you a chance to come to Wakanda and learn about their technology – you weren’t ashamed to admit that you were the one who contacted him to beg for it. You hadn’t known that Bucky was already there. Slowly but surely, the two of you found comfort in one another and became good friends.  

He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You should head inside, it’s getting late – I’ll see you again soon.”

He stayed true to that statement, the two of you stood with Sam and Bruce, waiting for Steve to come back after returning the stones – only to have him shatter your hearts.

You only saw Bucky in passing after that, occasionally visiting Steve at the same time – you never said a word to him, beyond a smile or a wave, and then you stopped seeing him all together. You tried, for the sake of your promise to Steve, but he never answered your calls or texts.

“We’ll figure it out together, right, thanks a lot Steve,” You muttered.

You jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, and your shoulders sank a bit when you saw Sam’s name flashing across the screen, “Hey.”

“He’s doing an interview,” You knew exactly who Sam was talking about, “Good Morning America.”

Your stomach turned, “That’s the last thing I want to see.”

“I know, I just thought I’d share my joy with someone,” Sam chuckled, “Any luck with Bucky?”

“I’m just wasting my time at this point,” You could feel the tears returning to your eyes as you said it.

“Hey, come on now, he’ll come around, he just needs some time.”

“Right…”

“Listen, I called because we have a lead, wanna join?”

“Please.”

“I hate it, his stupid face plastered on every wall, it feels like he’s mocking us.”

“Don’t you start, Y/N.”

“Seriously Sam, I get that he’s the new Cap – the fake Cap, but don’t you think that this,” You gestured to the posters around you, “is excessive?”

“It-”

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice and your face heated up with anger, you hadn’t realized it was possible to feel such contrasting emotions at the same time, but here you were. You noted that his voice was a bit hoarse and wondered if he had been sick.

“Good to see you too, Buck.”

“This is wrong.”

“So is pushing away everyone who cares about you.” He finally looked at you and you saw shame glistening in those steel blue eyes.

He said nothing before turning back to Sam, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

Wow, ignoring your calls was one thing, but outright ignoring you while you stood in front of him, that caused a different kind of hurt.

You stood in silence as Sam explained where the two of you were headed, trying to push away the pounding in your head, and suddenly, you found yourself in a jet sitting next to Bucky.

“You could have answered, even once. Could’ve at least let me know that you were still alive.”

“I know,” Was all he said.

“We were friends once,” Nothing, “and I still care for you.”

“I know.”

“Four months, a full four months and I didn’t hear a single word from you, I’m going to need more than ‘I know’.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry.”

You could tell that he meant it and didn’t know what more to say, so you got up and headed towards the open door of the plane, “I’ll catch you boys on the ground.”

You watched Sam follow, and considered helping Bucky as he fell through the trees, but you decided against it. He hurt your feelings and now you could call it even.

Super soldiers? How on earth were there more super soldiers?! You didn’t have much time to ponder on the thought as you got kicked in the face by one of them and fell off the semi – definitely should have let Tony make you a helmet like he insisted.

You flew back up only to see him dropping out of a helicopter, Fake Cap, fuck.

“Looks like you guys could use some help,” Your blood boiled at the sight of his cocky grin.

You weren’t winning, and you weren’t stupid enough to continue trying, let Steve’s knock-off take care of it.

You flew off just in time to see Bucky lying on top of Sam, the latter groaned in displeasure.

“Hey, can you gentlemen save the PDA for later?” You joked, earning a glare from both of them.

With the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, the pain from the blows you took started to set in, making you dread the trek in front of you. As if on cue, you heard a horn honking and Fake Cap pulled up next to you, “It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.”

“I think we’re good,” You simply stated.

“You won’t make it with that limp.”

You gave him a crude smile, “I’d rather crawl.”  

They stopped and opened the door, you exchanged a look with Sam and Bucky, silently deciding to join them.

You sat between Bucky and Sam, and felt the anger and disgust radiating off of both of them with every word that was exchanged.

“Y/N Stark,” You despised the way he said your last name, like he wanted to devour you, “You are one of the original seven, I trust you know the importance of having a strong team. I’d suggest giving a word or two of advice to your friends here.”

“Did you really just compare being on a team with you two, to being on a team with the Avengers?” You glowered at him, “A word of advice Walker, you’re not Steve, you might be holding that shield, but you will never be half the Captain America that he was. So quit fucking pretending.”  

“I didn’t realize Stark’s sister had such a mouth on her,” He smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing and as much as you hated to admit it, it was working, “Vicious.”

“Go to hell.”

The ride didn’t last very long after that, and you had no complaints when Bucky demanded them to stop the car.

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see Sam still asleep on the seats across from you, and Bucky was sitting on the large crate in the middle of the jet, “Not tired?”

“Nah,” He shook his head.

You pushed yourself to your feet and hopped up next to him, “You’d think they’d make those seats a bit more comfortable considering the amount of time we spend on these things.”

He chuckled and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. After a considerable pause he turned to you, “Y/N, I meant what I said earlier, I’m sorry.”

The dark bags under his eyes were a stark contrast from the beautiful blue that you were looking into, which you noted which had lost its luster. You noticed that his voice still had a bit of that hoarseness from earlier in the day, and the dots connected. You remembered how hoarse your voice used to get when you’d wake up screaming from the nightmares after particularly rough missions. You understood why he was awake, he didn’t want you and Sam to see him like that.

You nodded, “I know, I just wish – I was worried sick about you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you Buck, but we were good friends once and I miss you.”

“I wanted to call, it’s just been tough,” He admitted, and you reached over to take his hand, only to quickly pull away as Sam woke up.

“You two okay?”

“Yeah,” You both said. You wondered if Bucky’s super soldier ability allowed him to hear the way your heartbeat picked up from that brief touch.

Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, you had barely kept the tears in listening to Isaiah’s story, both out of anger and sadness. How? How did this happen? How was this man tortured, then brushed under the rug? How did no one know about it? Why the hell did Bucky keep this from you?

Sam mirrored your pained expression, but something darker lurked beneath his eyes, you couldn’t even imagine the rage he felt. The sound of a police siren pulled you out of your thoughts.

Your anger only grew at the argument that ensued, “I am calm, what do you want? We’re just standing here talking.”

“Just give him your ID,” You glared at Bucky as the words left his mouth.

“Why the hell should he? He didn’t do anything wrong!” You growled, at the same time Sam said, “I’m not giving him shit, we were just talking.”

“Hey, hey, look, is this guy bothering you?” The officer asked you and Bucky. Your eyes widened, he can’t be serious right now.

“No, he’s not bothering us, do you know who this is?!”

You couldn’t even stand to look at the guy as his jaw dropped in shock upon realizing who Sam was, you felt your body shake with anger, and you didn’t even want to think what would have happened if Sam hadn’t been an Avenger.

The officer returned from his vehicle and turned the tables, announcing that there was a warrant out for Bucky’s arrest.

Watching him being handcuffed and put into the car shattered your heart, if the events of the day hadn’t already left you feeling nauseous, you knew this would be the nail in the coffin. All you could see was Bucky on his knees with a gun to his head nearly seven year ago when Steve barely prevented T’Challa from killing him and the four of you had been arrested – Tony had been furious with you, but it was the shame in Bucky’s eyes that had hurt you the most, and here you were, witnessing it again.

You reached over a grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed as hard as you could, desperate for a lifeline to keep you from sinking into those painful memories.

You maintained that same grip on the poor man’s hand as you sat at the police station waiting for Bucky to be bailed out, “Sam, Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you two, I’m Dr. Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

The two of you shook her hand and Sam thanked her for getting Bucky out.

“That was not me –”

“Christina!” You’d recognize that voice anywhere from the way it made your skin crawl, fuck, “Good to see you again.”

You clenched your jaw to keep yourself from punching the stupid grin off of his face as he pointed to himself when Dr. Raynor asked him who authorized Bucky’s release. You knew you had a problem with constantly wanting to punch people in the face, it was a trait that ran in the family, but Walker’s face was definitely one of the most punchable ones you had seen – a good ol’ pop in the jaw wouldn’t hurt, right? Just one?

“He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up –”

That was it, that was all you were willing to hear, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting in his face and hissing, “Call him that again, and I swear to god Walker, I –”

Sam put his arm around you, hand pressed to your stomach and pulled you back, “Y/N.”

Walker simply smirked and turned back to Raynor, “Do what you have to do and send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I, you too Wilson, and bring your guard dog with you.”

It took everything in your power to keep from snarling at him.  

“James, condition of your release, session now,” The doctor ordered, “You two as well.”

“I’m good, I’ve been to enough therapy,” You shook your head, at the same time Sam said, “That’s okay, I’ll be out here with –”

“That wasn’t a request,” You couldn’t help but chuckle, and decided that you liked this woman.

You and Sam sat on either side of Bucky, facing Dr. Raynor as she got started. You couldn’t help but notice the way Bucky’s eyes shifted and jaw clenched as Sam tried to weasel his way out of the session, and your chest tightened. He looked so tired, and not just the ‘hasn’t slept in a few days’ tired, but more like he was tired of trying – he looked broken.

You decided in that moment that you would try, and not just for Steve, but for the man next to you who had held a piece of your heart before he even knew you, and managed steal that piece away when you had met him years later.

You realized how hard you’d have try when Bucky answered Dr. Raynor’s question with, “In my miracle, he would talk less.”

“Exactly what I was gonna say, isn’t that ironic?” You sighed, so hard.

She turned to you, mimicking the expression on your face, “Y/N, can I trust you to give me a proper answer?”

Try, Y/N, try. You saw a glimmer of hope in Raynor’s eyes as they met yours, but you simply shrugged and looked away, unable to bring yourself to open up, and she let her shoulders fall slightly.

“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise. Y/N, you can sit this one out, you get along with both of them well enough.”

You rolled your eyes at the reactions from the boys, this’ll be good. You couldn’t help but chuckle as they got closer to one another, maybe I should have taken part in this exercise. They made eye contact and continued to hold it, you realized what they were doing moments before the doctor did and let out a genuine laugh – earning a glare from Raynor, don’t encourage them she seemed to say.

“James, why does Sam aggravate you? And don’t say something childish.” Your head filled with a hundred different ideas about what stupid things Bucky would come up with, only to have them fizzle away at his cheeky grin towards the doctor, followed by the lick of his lip. It left your throat dry. Snap out of it, Y/N, what’s gotten into you?

He paused for a moment, his expression changing, and turned back to Sam, “Why’d you give of that shield?”

You held your breath, you knew this was going to come up, but weren’t expecting it here. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky, noticing every change in his face, it becoming more pained with every word that left his mouth, and your chest tightening alongside it, until finally, “So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

The break in his voice cracked your heart into a million pieces. You looked up, trying to keep the tears swimming in your eyes from falling. You turned your attention towards Sam and noticed the emotion behind his glassy eyes – it was different than anything you had seen in him before, it was almost as though you could see the burden he was carrying on his shoulders, the pressure that was pushing him in every direction.

I have to fix this, you told yourself, you couldn’t stand to see them like this, I have to try.  

Your mind was roaring with thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed that Sam and Bucky had left until Raynor asked, “What would be in your miracle, Y/N?”

You snapped your head towards her, then to the door, you weighed your options and headed towards the latter. You grabbed the handle and stopped, without turning towards her you whispered, “I’d find a home again, and they’d find some happiness.”

You pulled the door open, “Y/N, I don’t think those two things have to be separate.”

Her words swam in your head until you found Bucky and Sam walking outside, Walker and Hoskins storming off in the other direction.

“What’s that all about?”

“Walker being Walker,” Sam shrugged.

“So, what now?”

“Bucky wants to talk to Zemo,” Every memory that you spent years trying to forget came flooding back: Zemo using those words to turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier, who then proceeded to trash the compound and nearly kill you and your friends; watching your family fight each other at the airport and being forced to pick a side; watching the footage of your parents dying; desperately begging your brother and the man who had become your brother not to kill one another.

“You what?!” You gasped.

“Y/N –”

You stepped between the two of them, close enough to Bucky that you had to tilt your head up to look into his eyes, and whispered, “Bucky, no.”

“This might be our only lead, Y/N,” You stared up at him, silently pleading him, he reflected the same in his own, “Please Y/N.”

He took your hand and you instantly melted, “I – fine, but promise me you will be careful.”

“I promise.”

End. 

Read Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 and Part 6

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[venomous--fics]

Anon asked: maybe a continuation of the peter b parker kid thing where they finally confront the mom and get the readers things back 😩💞💞

a/n: ask and thou shall receive! this spent so long in the drafts bc i felt so insecure about it tbh, so any feedback is appreciated! I love seeing messages about what you guys think! really keeps me motivated! also, requests are open

Warnings: mentions of past abuse

Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, constantly looking at the clock. It was almost 5pm, you were supposed to be home an hour and a half ago. Yes, he keeps track of everyone's schedules, yes he knows the exact second you should be walking through the door. He's already texted you, but maybe you had detention. Nah, you were a good student, he highly doubted you'd have to stay after school.

His phone finally rang, and he was way too quick answering it.

"You okay?"

"I need some help."

"What is it?" he was already out the door.

You sighed, knowing he was probably going to give you an earful later.

"Well, it's a really long story, right.. But my mom showed up after school-"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I think. Anyways, we got into it on the way home, which is no- Not normal." you adjusted how you were sitting, "And since she was dragging me back to the house, I figured I'd just get my crap and come home, right? Makes sense, saves us the tri-"

"She took you without permission?"

"Technically she is my m-...Parent. I guess, y'know, legally she can do whatever- But..Okay." you began to feel bubbles of anxiety and pain and even resentment form deep in your core, "She locked me out." You rubbed your neck.

"Are you," he paused, looking around at all the faces passing by him, "Still there?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."

"I keep causing problems for everyone."

"Not for me. Or Mj."

It was quiet on your end.

"You still there?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in like ten minutes."

"You probably shouldn't."

"Nah, nah." He said, having a sudden wave of anger rush over him, "Let me take care of this."

And true to his word, Peter was there in ten minutes. You hopped up from your spot on the porch as he made his way up to the door and knocked on it as hard as he could. He gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

The door swung open, and your mother seemed awfully surprised and confused to see some random man just standing there. Peter held no emotion has he looked her dead in the eye, "Can we come in."

She opened the door wider so that way you two could step in.

"Go get your stuff." is all Peter said to you.

Wasting no time, and not wanting to be in the middle of a potential argument between the two, you skedaddled to your room. It almost felt like too much to be in there. It looked so empty and barren compared to your room at Peter and Mjs place. Seems really dull. Lifeless, almost. Dust covered every surface, which meant that nobody had ever even bothered to see if you were even still in there.

You heard their voices from the living room, but they seemed so distant, seeing as all you could focus on was every shitty thing that woman put you through.

You remember the day that you got bit. It made you deathly ill, and you just thought you were dying from some sort of allergic reaction to the spider bite. You tried to get her to take you to any doctor or anywhere that could help because all you could seem to see were stars.

Everything then was so loud. Everything was so bright. It was all too much, and you were certain that the reaper was waiting for you. What did she say?

"Suck it up and stop pretending. Everything has to be so dramatic with you."

Or that time you forgot a single item on the shopping list. You got this whole speech about how stupid you had to have been. To forget one item. It was the world's most useless item.

Everything else seemed to play all over again, all at once. Like a waterfall. It should've made you sad. It should've made you cry, or scream.

You recounted all the times you wanted to fight back, or just run away. Leave everything behind and just run until your legs gave out. But you never did. You always found some reason to linger.

The conversation was growing louder where Peter was.

"You aren't going to do this to them ever again. Sign the papers."

You nearly dropped your last belonging on the floor as you scrambled to your door. Papers? He wasn't serious. Well, obviously he was. He just said it.

"Fine. It's not like the-"

"Zip it. Sign the papers."

"Who are you anyways? The law? If so, whatever they've told you is a b-"

"Listen, lady. I didn't ask for any attitude. I told you to sign the papers." he seemed to huff in annoyance, "That doesn't require talking."

"I'm a good mother."

"And I'm the king of France."

"Really. I gave them a good home. I have fed them and kept them warm-"

"Really? You think you did all that? Or are you convincing yourself that you did all that?"

"I am-"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Ye-"

"I've never said this about anyone, ever. I don't like speaking to or about anyone like this.. Ever, but, you? I think you're a piece of shit."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, look. You finished signing the papers. I'll take those. Thank you."

Realizing that it was your time to go, you stuffed your blanket into your duffel bag and rushed out the door and down the hall. Peter looked at you, expecting to see at least three bags. But he only saw the one.

"Where's the rest of your stuff."

"Uhm," you shuffled around, pretending as thought you dropped some, "This...This is all my stuff."

"That can't be ri-" He laughed a little, and noting the expression on his face, you saw that he was NOT happy. "That? That single duffle bag is all you have? That's it?"

"Yes..." you took a step back, "This is all.."

"I can't believe it." he said, "You're joking! One bag worth of stuff?"

He turned his attention back to your mother, who, for the first time in your life, actually looked like she got caught red handed, "You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

"But they're so u-"

"No! No, you don't get to talk anymore. You've done enough."

You awkwardly shuffled behind him, in the event that you two had to make a mad dash out the door. That and you needed to not be seen as you tried to hide your almost evil grin.

"The hell is wrong with you? You have this amazing kid, and THAT'S all you've ever gotten for them? And you sit there and call yourself a mother? Absolutely, without a doubt, bullshit. I'd be ashamed of myself to call myself a father if that's all I've provided for my kid. Don't even get me started on you as a person, we made that clear."

It almost felt cursed to hear him swear, seeing as he made it a point to tell you to not swear. Every time you did, you have to give a quarter to the swear jar. Mj was always on your side, though. She'd say a swear that was much worse and have to pay a dollar. Each word had a value.

"Maybe we should just go." you suggested, tugging on the sleeve of his arm, "She's not worth it anymore."

"She was never worth it, it seems."

You finally made eye contact with her, and the look in her eye. It's like she understood, but was choosing to not do anything about the situation. She could look sorry all she wanted, but you knew she wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. You know that right."

"That means nothing to me."

"I can change."

"If you can change now, that means you could've changed then. You just chose not to."

"But I'm your mother, you should realize how I feel. You should want-"

"You're not my mom. You stopped being my mom the first time you-" You turned towards the door and started walking towards it, "Whatever. You mean nothing to me."

You practically kicked open teh door just to leave, and Peter was right behind you, shouting about how he'd make sure to egg her house everyday, just to piss her off.

"Do you really think I'm amazing?" you asked, the walk home feeling rather quiet.

"I think you're more than that. Just can't put it into words."

"Did you really mean it...That we could egg her house?"

"You want to? There's a store right on the way home."

"How about tomorrow."

"I'll have to clear up my busy schedule. See if I can work in a drive by egging. Well, swing by egging."

"You promise?"

"You kidding? I haven't egged anyone's house since college."

You had so much more you wanted to get off you chest, but you opted to just talk about it at home, with everyone present. You wanted to talk about how you felt about everything, and the papers. Whatever those were. But you were, for the moment, busy laughing about Peter's story about how he used to Egg this one reporters house. Someone named Jonah.

You wonder if Jonah ever put two and two together.

[hobis-hope94]

~ A Girl Like You ~

AN: i’m really missing watching new father brown so i thought i’d finally write for my beloved sid ❤️

Summery: London’s first and only female Detective Inspector moves to Kembleford to get away from the loud, demanding and busy city. She meets an unlikely hero.

Paring: eventually Sid Carter x female!reader

Characters: female!reader, Sid Carter, Father Brown, Mrs McCarthy, train conductor and drunk man. Inspector Sullivan is mentioned.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, pubs, drunk man being creepy and loads of fluff.

(gif not mine):

You were on the train to Kembleford. You were told you should get out of the city for a while. You? A London girl in the country?

It was a beautiful summer’s day in 1954, you were wearing a beautiful summer dress which was red and had white dots on it.

“Kembleford,” you said thoughtfully, as you looked out the window.

You fiddled with the locket which hung on your neck. Who suggested your break from the city? Your mentor, Inspector Sullivan. He spoke highly of the beautiful village of Kembleford, so who were you to judge?

“Kembleford Station, ladies and gentlemen, this is Kembleford Station,” the train conductor shouted cheerfully.

You smiled and gathered your luggage.

“Miss Y/L/N?” You turned to see a priest, wearing a capello romano hat, glasses and holding an umbrella. By his side stood a kind looking old lady.

“Ah. You must be the famous Father Brown,” you said, you recognised him from the stories Inspector Sullivan told you.

“Inspector Sullivan has told me great things about you,” Father Brown said, helping you off the train.

“And you,” you said smiling.

“This is Mrs McCarthy, the parish security,” Father Brown said, smiling at you.

You smiled at Mrs McCarthy.

“And this is Sidney Carter,” Father Brown said, as a tallish man in a green chauffeur’s uniform came up to you.

“Friends call me Sid,” Sid said, gently taking your luggage from you.

“Ah. Sully’s told me all about you,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Hm. Probably not the best information, I bet,” Sid said as you all began to walk to Sid’s car.

“Meh. It was a mix,” you shrugged.

“Oh yeah? What did he say?” Sid asked, putting your luggage in the boot.

“That you’re a common thief,” you said, Sid nodded as he listened. “A bit of a rubbish one too.” You giggled at Sid’s face.

“Rude,” Sid said, you caught Father Brown slightly agreeing with you. “Also rude.” Sid pointed at father brown.

“And that I need to watch myself around you,” you added.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Sid asked, opening the car door for you.

“Because you’ll flirt with anything that moves,” you said in a matter of fact tone.

Sid eyed Father Brown as he let out a laugh.

“I should let you know, Carter. I’m a very respected woman in London,” you stated, as Sid got in the driver’s seat.

“Oh yeah. What’re you? A lady or some thin’?” Sid asked, turning to look at you.

“No,” you said, “I’m London’s first and so far only female Detective Inspector,” you added proudly.

Everyone stared at you. You grinned.

———

After a long day of sight seeing, Father Brown gave the best tours and Mrs M? She makes the best scones. You felt you were settled. You were sitting at the pub, sipping on your drink, when a drunk man came over to you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” He slurred, sitting too close to you for your liking.

“I’m entitled to be here. Same as you,” you said, bravely.

“Oh yeah? Women should be at home. Making dinner for their husbands,” he said.

“Well. I don’t have a husband. So if you don’t mind,” you said standing up.

“If you don’t have a husband, fancy coming back to mine?” He asked, grabbing your wrist.

“How so very polite,” you mocked. “No. I’m fine.” You said firmly.

“Ah come on sweetheart. Just one night with me,” he said, touching your face.

“I said no, thank you,” you said, beginning to feel scared.

“I promise-“ he said.

“Oi! The girl said no, she means no,” Sid’s voice sounded like music to your ears.

You smiled slightly as Sid shoved the man off you and stood in front of you.

“Alright, Carter. Being the hero, are we?” The man asked.

“Nah. Hero’s not really my thing,” Sid shrugged. “But if I see lowlifes like you, tarting a woman who doesn’t want to spend time with you, then I’ll step up. Because when a woman says no, she mean no,” Sid said, standing up tall.

The man sneered at him then left you alone.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said gratefully.

“Did he hurt you?” Sid asked, looking at you.

“My wrist hurts a little. But other than that, no,” you said honestly.

“Let me walk you back to your hotel room. It’s clearly not safe for you to be out here on your own right now,” Sid said gently.

You thanked him and you both walked along. Sid noticed you slightly shiver as the evening got colder, he gently draped his jacket around your shoulders.

“Well, Sully neglected to mention how much of a gentleman you are, Sidney Carter,” you said smiling as you pulled Sid’s jacket around you tighter.

“Yeah well, me and Sullivan didn’t quite see eye to eye did we?” Sid said smiling, lighting a cigarette.

“He did arrest you a lot didn’t he,” you said giggling.

“Almost every other day,” Sid said.

When you arrived in your hotel room, you began taking Sid’s jacket off.

“Hm. Keep it. Give it back to me tomorrow. These rooms get cold at nights,” Sid said, turning slightly red.

“Th…thank you,” you said blushing.

“D’you maybe …fancy getting something to eat together tomorrow? Maybe? I can show you all the non holy sights the Father “forgot” to show you,” Sid said, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling.

“Well…then…see you tomorrow…say…11?” Sid asked.

“11 sounds perfect,” you said.

“G’night, Y/N,” Sid said gently.

“Good night, Sidney,” you said.

“Sid…friends call me Sid,” Sid said, you blushed.

“Good night, Sid…thank you again for saving me,” you said smiling.

“Anytime,” Sid said smiling.

Sid left and you shut the door behind you. Smiling. Maybe moving to Kembleford was a good idea.

[loving-all-for-loki]

Can you write one where the Rogers is assigning a new recruit to each avenger for training? Loki gets the new girl and he’s irritated thinking she’s just some normal human that hasn’t a clue how to fight properly because of her petite size. When it comes time for them to spar, she gives him hell. She fights with swords and is very skilled in the art. He says something to piss her off and she ends up blasting him away with powers she never told anyone about. Loki realizes what she is since he knows the magic she used. She’s part light elf but being half human she was abandoned and left to die just like Loki was. They end up bonding and work together on the team.

A/N: I hope you like it! I didn't focus a whole ton of them working together, but I feel like you get the point. It's a bit longer than my other one shots.

The Moon And Her Darkness

Summary: Y/N, the newest avenger, starts her first day of training. An unimpressed Loki’s doubts are proved to be wrong when she reveals herself to be stronger than he knew.

Word count: 2744

Warnings: angst, dick Loki

Forever Tags: @mm2305

-

Your blood pumps fast through your body as you stare at the raven haired god. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been giving you dirty looks and eye rolls. You tried to not pay attention to it since you know of his past (and have been warned by Tony), but as the newest Avenger trying to prove herself, you find yourself longing for his approval.

It has been a week since Nicky Fury showed up at your home, extracting you from it, and throwing you into the lion's den you called the Avengers. You never signed up for it, but given that you were on the government’s radar for a long time, you’re not surprised. A couple mishaps here and there made them take you on their own terms. They’ve decided that having super powers is not something to be normalized and that you couldn’t live like a normal civilian.

Although you want to be home, the Avengers have already shown to be a great family. Nat and Wanda have already taken you shopping while Steve gave you a tour of the tower. As far as the others, they have been out of sight. Bucky avoids everyone, Sam with him because they’re glued to the hip, and Tony is somewhere else working on new technology with Bruce. Clint? Thor? Who even knows. You’ve been thankful for the attention they have given you.

Except for Loki.

You remember the attack in New York and you won’t lie when saying that approaching the god is intimidating. He stands with great pride and power, it’s hard not to feel small, but when he stares at you the way he does, it’s harder. He doesn’t stop looking at you as if you were a rat he found in a sandwich. Disposable. Replaceable. Disgusting. You don’t expect much from the God being that he’s only staying here out of punishment for the attacks, but you had hoped for a little something more. Even a prank or two.

When Steve told you that you were going to start training, you expected hand to hand combat like the rest, not whatever involves Loki being in the gym at the same time as the two of you. He hasn’t said a word, but just stared at you as Steve goes over some basic disabling techniques and defense. Most of it is already burned in your brain from your childhood, being a warrior and all, but you still manage to learn some new things.

But learning as to why Loki is there, that still remains unclear. Everytime you throw a punch or try to block one of Steve’s, Loki scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. He looks completely relaxed on a bench in the room, yet he could not be looking at you with a more tense gaze. He looks worried, as if you’re going to get beaten to a pulp.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” You yell at him.

Panting, you block Steve’s last hit and turn to the younger Odinson.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t sorry me. Cut the crap, Loki. What’s up?”

“I believe the sky is.”

You grab a knife off the wall and aim it in his direction, startling him slightly but not even shocking Steve.

“You stare at me with daggers in your eyes and judge my every move. You have yet to even talk to me since I joined the team. What do you have against me, you ass?”

“Y/N-”

“Shut it, Steve!” You yell, quickly aiming the dagger at him before returning to Loki, “You. Talk.”

“It’s just pathetic, that’s all.”

“Pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”

You start to charge at Loki, but Steve quickly wraps his arm around your waist, holding you back from gutting the god.

“Y/N, I wanted you to spar with him after me,” he cuts in.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he's a skilled fighter who matches your level.”

“Oh, so I spar with the tricker who decides I’m too pathetic to fight. He’s going to teleport or some shit and stab me like he does with Thor.” Loki’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Thor getting stabbed. “Yes, I’ve heard the stories. I’m not that naive, Steve.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him. I’ll be here to watch and guide.”

“What do you know about fighting with me? I have magic beyond belief” Loki asks the both of you.

“I know more than you think,” I spit, turning back to Steve, “Can we do something else?”

“Well, you coud-”

“I am not sparing with Loki.”

“Okay, then how about weapons? Whatever one you want to start with?”

Loki scoffs again at the mention of you fighting any other way than hand to hand combat. He’s lucky you’re on the same team as him or else you would have decapitated him by now just because of annoyance. How can a man so attractive be so obnoxious?

You walk over to the wall of weapons were Steve and quietly discuss which ones you’ll practice with. He recommends knives so you can spar with Natasha when he’s gone, but the swords are more up your alley. They remind you of your childhood, the weapon of your people. Some days, you miss them, but you know they are fighting their own battle that is too dangerous for you.

Picking up the swords, Steve warns you he is not good which makes Loki laugh again. He has the right to this time because how do you practice with a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t last ten minutes with Cap before you’re tired of his flailing. He’s really not good.

“Loki, you wouldn’t happen to know how to use swords would you?”

“I have some experience. Asgard knights and Valkyrie used them, we were forced to learn.”

He stands and takes Steve’s sword from him. Turning to you, he smirks, taking you in. Your frame looks so small compared to his, nothing but a mortal. He’s never admit it, but he finds you slightly adorable, in a helpless baby sort of way. You take proper stance and stare at Loki dead in the eye, determined to prove him wrong.

The two of you run at each other, swinging at any unblocked area you can, yet never hitting. He blocks your swing, pushing you back but not down. Looking up at him, you scream and run, thrusting your sword towards his neck and legs. He blocks you again, but not without stumbling. Before he’s able to get up, you land a blow right to his chest, knocking the air out of him. He hooks his foot around your leg and flips the two of you over so he hovers above you, sword to throat.

“I’ll admit it, you are good, but not great,” he laughs.

He stands up and walks off, setting the swords back on their holder on the wall. You gradually stand up, fury in your bones for the way he speaks to you.

“You… are irritable!” You yell.

Right before Loki gets to the door, he turns to face you. Steve rushes to your side.

“Y/N, stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, he’s not worth it, alright,” you mutter to Steve, “He’s not worth the pride. The praise. Whatever the ‘glorious purpose’ he thinks he has. He’s just an insecure little boy who needs to prove himself over others, make them feel small so he feels superior. Just a bully.”

“I’d watch your tongue,” Loki warns.

“Or else what? You’ll challenge me to a words competition? See who has the best insults or can sound like the biggest douche because I think we all know who would win! Another check mark for your book of things you’re better at than ‘midgardians’ or ‘mortals’ or whatever degrading nickname you think of next.”

Loki’s chest heaves in anger. You’ve never seen someone so angry or heard anyone yelling at you with concern like Steve. Nothing he says registers in your head as Loki’s daring looks fill your mind. You’d almost be scared if you didn’t know he’s full of empty threats. Just a scared little god boy.

“You imbecile, think you can scare me?”

“Actually, I think anything can.”

“I can take words from someone who does not know me, but to be called a coward is not something I take lightly.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Huh?”

“Nothing, I don’t waste my time on people like you.”

“Oh, people like me? Because the great Frost Giant Asgardian is sooo superior.”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

Loki rushes to your side, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you up against the wall.

“Loki, stop it!” Steve yells.

“This is not about you, Rodgers. I suggest you leave before getting in the crossfire.”

“I can’t do that. The safety of this team-”

“Is your priority. I know you are honorable, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Steve hesitates at the sound of you gasping for air. You cling onto Loki’s hand, tightly wound around your throat. His veins pop out of his hand like a dehydrated man. Steve looks back at you, eyes now closed to focus on your breathing.

“Put her down first,” Steve orders.

“Fine, always have to be the hero.”

Loki sets you down and your body goes numb. Everything hurts, your throat swelling. You gasp for all the air you can, feeling it go down your throat and enter your lungs. It’s fresh, comforting, healing. Leaning your head back against the wall, you barely open your eyes to see Steve by your side.

“Are you okay?”

Not energized enough to speak yet, you nod your head and place your hand on his shoulder. Steve looks over at you with worry before turning back to Loki.

“Leave, now.”

“Gladly.”

Loki turns to walk away, but doesn’t. He stands there to listen to you and Steve. At this point, neither of you care. You’re too focused on not dying.

“Can you breathe?” Steve asks.

You nod your head.

“I can get you help. We have a hospital room.”

“No,” you choke, “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t listen. He gets up and leaves the room, rushing down the hallways to get a nurse, leaving you alone with Loki.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“No reason.”

“Please, just go. I’m tired of fighting. You’ve done enough.”

Loki turns to look at you. You look weak, but actually weak this time. The purple tint to your skin is fading as your lungs self regenerate as you keep breathing. Gripping onto the wall behind you, you stand up. Your knees are weak, making you wobble as you do. You’re not lying. You’re tired of Loki. You’ve barely spoken to the man and he’s made two attempts on your life in ten minutes. Sure, you teased him, but doesn’t he deserve it for being an ass.

“Weak.” He mutters.

That was the last straw. You look up at him. He stares at you as if the devil himself has entered you and your eyes glow bright red, but you know what is wrong. Holding out your hand towards Loki. A glow erupts from behind you, bright yet dark. It’s dark blue like the night sky and Loki watches it in awe. In seconds, Loki’s body is flung through the training room doors, blasting him into the wall of the hallways. He feels his rib breaking, his head hitting the wall. He yells out in pain as you slowly approach him, the anger seeping through.

“Never call me weak.”

Loki flips his head up to look at you, shock running through his body. At the sound of his body collapsing, the other Avengers come running forward. They look upon the sight of you towering over the trickster god with a look they’ve never seen before. Ethereal. Godly. You look as if you’re a queen staring at her peasant handmaid. Anger. Controlling. Power.

“What the-” Bucky mutters.

“You,” Loki gasps.

He struggles to stand as the team tries to help but he refuses. You two locked eyes but nothing was said. “You’re an elf.”

Everyone looks back at you with confused faces, but you don’t say anything. Your body goes hot at the mention of the word ‘elf’. The fire inside you fades out as anxiety places it, waiting for Loki to continue.

“I knew if someone was here to figure it out it’d be you,” you whisper.

“Light elf yes?”

“Yes, moon elf to be exact.”

“How are you here? Aren’t the-”

“Yes, they’re away. I was left to die. Our town got ransacked, everyone fled. No one stopped for me.”

“Then how are you here?”

“The Air elves. They got word of what happened and came. Found me. Took me back, but-”

“You weren’t suited. They found out.”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and the god. His eyes shine with sadness, tears coming to the corners. He looks at you with great pity as the wall inside you breaks.

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” Steve asks.

“Can you tell?” You ask Loki.

He nods, “Yes. Y/N is a moon elf, a tribe of light elves. They’re as high up as Asgard in the nine realms, powerful warriors. They’ve been at the center of every creature out there. People have been after them for their weapons, gems, and wealth. A landmark for every thief and warrior in the universe.”

“My town was destroyed when I was a little girl. Nobody wanted me because I was a child. I was a burden to them.”

“She was left for dead to be found by the Air Elves. Another tribe. Not as powerful. But they didn’t want her and there’s only one reason why they wouldn’t want a moon elf. She’s a half-breed.”

“Moon elves are the only ones who tolerate them. Half human, half elf. Considering many of them come from moon elves, they’re not despised, but Air Elves.”

“They dropped you off on Midgard to be picked up by someone else. I assume you hid your powers?” “I had to. I acted out once when I was little and my parents freaked out. They sent me away. I lived in a orphanage before some group took me, trained me, helped me hone in my powers. They saved me.”

“Until you got to old and left.”

“Didn’t know where to go. I became a waitress at some back alley bar, lived above it in an apartment with my manager. Lived paycheck to paycheck.”

“Then?”

“Nicky Fury came to me. I was on SHIELD’s radar and they wanted me on the Avengers.”

The room goes silent. Throughout your talking you missed the way Loki got considerably closer to you. You practically stand right under his nose. Loki raises his hands and places them on your shoulders, getting your attention. You two look each other in the eye for a long moment.

“I am… so sorry.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as Loki pulls you into his chest, holding you by your waist. The team watches in awe as the closed off god embraces you. Slowly, everyone leaves you two in the hallway. An hour goes by as you cry in Loki’s eyes.

Eventually, Loki picks you up bridal style and brings you to your bedroom. He helps you get dressed for the night and settled in bed before you grab his hand, making him turn back to face you. His eyes are no longer riddled with anger or hatred, but kindness and pity. He looks at you like you’re a little lamb to be protected.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stay with me?”

He nods before undressing and getting in bed with you. He pulls you close, your head leaning on his chest, and places an arm around your waist.

Every night goes on like this. No matter what happened in the day, even if you two got into an argument, Loki always found his way back by your side in your bed. You would have never expect it from how he treated you at first, but after the last few months since you met him, you find yourself growing closer to the god.

Loki slips into your bed for what feels like the 1482nd time. Resting your head on his chest, Loki pulls you close to his body.

“Goodnight, darling.”

[catty-words]

on the school dance fallout or, a thorough examination of the boys’ apologies to julie

full disclosure, i used to take serious issue with 1.06 for what it did to julie’s righteous anger in light of the boys letting her down, and my gripes haven’t fully gone away. but i have spent some time thinking on the fallout since my first (several) viewing(s) of the show and i finally noticed some emotionally nuanced storytelling that i needed time to come to appreciate. so, if you’ll indulge me another gif-filled meta post...

everyone knows that a good apology demonstrates an understanding of how you wronged the person you’re apologizing to, otherwise the words i’m sorry end up being fairly empty. and luckily for the boys, julie does a good job of immediately and effectively communicating her hurt feelings:

the first part is directed at luke specifically as her main co-writer, while the rest is about how all three of them let her down. it couldn’t be more clear that the reason she’s so betrayed is that a) they’ve made her feel like julie and the phantoms is less important to them than sunset curve and b) they’ve failed to consider her point of view or empathize with how important the show was to her.

which is why singing sorry a bunch of times, though charming, leaves her unmoved. and it’s why booking another gig actually makes her angrier. a gig the boys have deemed important enough to show up for is not a present or an olive branch to her, it’s a slap in the face. and if the boys had actually been paying attention to what she’d said the night of the dance, they could have anticipated her reaction.

but they clearly haven’t listened, so they haven’t learned how to do better or make things right. which is why this is such an important beat in the scene in the studio:

hounding julie to rejoin the band, even with such nice sentiments as “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us since we became ghosts”, does nothing to address how undervalued julie feels getting stood up because, as she points out above, their ability to do what they love is very limited without her. that makes her a powerful and essential member of the band, but it doesn’t prove that they care about her, julie, the person. and you can see in the reaction shot how the truth of her words lands for all of them.

their remorseful silence gives julie the opportunity to reiterate one of the points she made the night before, and it’s important to note which part of her hurt feelings she chooses to revisit.

the fact that they made the choice to pay more attention to their old music in spite of the music they were creating together is the thing that hurt her feelings the most. and, of course, her open hostility and her imagined reasons for why the boys picked sunset curve over julie and the phantoms (i.e. selfishness) puts luke on the defensive and ends with everyone leaving the scene dissatisfied.

great! okay, so here’s the part that’s bugged in the past (and the present, just. a little less so.) — in their attempt to deescalate the situation, alex and reggie give julie, and the audience, the all-important luke backstory. but like asking julie to rejoin the band with a shinier gig than a school dance flies in the face of actually making amends, so, too, does asking julie to empathize with luke’s emotional journey when the boys failed to take julie’s into account when they hurt her. only this time, it works as an olive branch.

now, i’m not saying that julie’s acting out of character in being sympathetic to luke’s pain, quite the opposite is the case. and i’m also not saying it’s bad that she does find sympathy for his situation — again, i’d argue that the opposite is true. it’s just, at the same time, it’s not a good look to force aside the young woman of color’s hurt in service of the white dude who hurt her feelings in the first place’s tragic backstory. the narrative is asking julie not to be mad at the choices luke made in the past two episodes because he’s really sad, actually.

and sure that’s an ungracious read of the moment, but i stand by the fact that it’s present in the text of the episode all the same, even with a little more nuance than i’m currently giving it credit for.

all that being said, alex and reggie do a bit to win back this highly insensitive maneuver with another stab at an apology.

alex addresses julie’s comment about them knowing “how tough it’s been for her to play” by reiterating that not showing up let her down and they get that that’s a crappy way to feel, while reggie takes a crack at julie’s “our songs were good” by emphasizing that they all love being in a band and making music with her. it’s a slight step up from their sorry in the garage, but not a complete fix because they’re all still sitting with the fact that they need julie to make the most of their music and how that complicates their declarations of loyalty.

the thing that makes this attempt at reconciliation different than those prior, of course, is this line:

the acknowledgement that things haven’t been fixed + the politeness + the implication that they’re willing to put in the time to earn her trust back so long as she lets them makes the apology a good enough one to accept. well, that, and:

one gets the sense that if rose could actually speak to julie in that moment, she’d be reminding her the value of grace. and, of course, we know that this also serves as a reminder to julie that good things are fleeting, loss is around every corner, and holding close what you care about is important. so she does just that by letting go of her (righteous, righteous) anger and reuniting the band.

still, even though alex and reggie have had their chance to make amends, luke doesn’t get the same moment to show he’s actually paid attention to julie’s needs in 1.06. so, naturally, he starts immediately in their first scene together in 1.07. 

i mentioned in my exhaustive list for “finally free” that julie picking a sunset curve song for their reunion number is a lovely, understated way for her acknowledge luke’s lost musical legacy, and i have similar feelings about the fact that luke suggests “edge of great” for their follow-up gig. it’s his first step in proving to her that he does care about the music they’ve written together with actions instead of empty apologies and misguided gestures.

by the end of the episode, though, the three of them take a step back (reggie gets points for his being, like, half a step) when they learn that, in addition to letting down julie, one of the consequences of their night chasing revenge is a ticking clock on their existence.

though i understand the urge to protect julie from the alarming news that their power is going out, there’s also a lot of selfishness behind the decision. julie loses them in the end no matter what, but lying to her about it and planning to leave without an explanation shows a disregard for her emotional journey in a similar way standing her up did. in fact, this plan is basically to stand her up for eternity. not cool, guys.

naturally, since it’s luke who’s the one proposing the terrible plan and it’s luke who never officially demonstrated his understanding of how he hurt julie’s feelings by not showing up when it mattered, it’s fitting that he’s suddenly more in tune with his own feelings. and, with that, comes a new awareness of how his and julie’s feelings interact, starting with this moment in 1.08.

you can see his conflict over her declaration. she’s worried without knowing just how much there is to be worried about, and that makes him sad because it’s confirmation of the fact that he’s important to her. that losing him will mean a lot of pain for her. but instead of cluing her in, he makes a conscious choice to continue withholding the information of his imminent departure. and maybe it’s such a weak deflection because he’s already starting to come to terms with how unfair he’s being to her, but even so, he’s not being a good friend when julie is showing up for him in big, unexpected ways he’d never even thought to ask for.

and again, here — 

— just after they’ve acknowledged that there’s a something and not a nothing between them, you can see him sober with the thought that she doesn’t know they’re about to lose each other. but it’s still not enough to move him to share. maybe because he prefers that she live with the possibility of that something when he no longer can, maybe because he’s too caught up in his own feelings about how crappy this hand they’ve been dealt by the universe is. but in any case, he keeps tight-lipped.

UNTIL.

it’s seeing her excited about a future their music can’t have that finally pushes him into coming clean. and i love how subtly this demonstrates that he has been paying attention, actually, and he knows that what hurt julie the most was the feeling that their music took a backseat to his past. if he crosses over without telling her the whole, ugly truth about the mistake he made by standing her up, then he crosses over stuck in that mistake. because part of that whole, ugly truth is the beautiful realization that no music is worth making, julie, if we’re not making it with you. and he’s not quite at that particular aspect of his truth yet — he still has to experience the what if of caleb’s club to be able to make the declaration with the conviction he does — but when he finally does tell her that and means it, she’s given the catharsis she’s needed since the dance. because he’s backing up his apology with action (i.e. being willing to literally no longer exist instead of making music with someone else) and providing her with the same consideration she showed him when she rejoined the band because his loss felt more important than her anger. and reaching that level of give and take in their relationship, physically represented in their hug, finally sets them free.

so, yes. even though 1.06 is clunky and a little tasteless at times, i can acknowledge that the story manages to win any missteps back. quite poetically, honestly. all’s forgiven.

[let-them-read-fics]

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies​: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul  --  8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon. 

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner. 

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks. 

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile. 

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease. 

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.” 

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic. 

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night. 

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm. 

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you. 

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?” 

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her. 

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers. 

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

---- 

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!” 

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute. 

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart. 

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again. 

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight. 

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number. 

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts. 

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.” 

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above. 

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat. 

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it. 

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers. 

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips. 

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you. 

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house. 

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice. 

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before. 

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs. 

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio." 

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house. 

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself. 

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her. 

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out. 

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit. 

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy. 

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note. 

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know. 

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

-----  La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make. 

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.  

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away. 

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would. 

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake. 

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself. 

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone. 

“Come downstairs, please.” 

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way. 

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left. 

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.” 

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.” 

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her. 

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out. 

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head. 

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies. 

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them. 

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet. 

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…” 

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

[free-pool-trash]

Okay, can I requests all free! boys (maybe add for albert and kaede too) with s/o who is youtuber (they s/o is pretty famous though) and what kinds of video would they like to do together. I love your writing and tq for it and don't forget to stay safe🥰🥰

Hey lovely! 💕 i love this request so imma pump it out rn (hey Free! queens haven’t seen yall in a while, how we doing? 😎)

Im just gonna do for style 5 + Albert and Kaede for now but let me know if you want the rest 😉

This is actually something I’ve thought about a lot so lets get into it 🤩

Did i proof read this? No ❤️

Haru:

He’s that boyfriend who supports you in everything you’re doing while simultaneously having absolutely no clue what you’re doing

For example; vlogging absolutely boggled his mind at first

“Who are you talking to?”

“Oh I’m just vlogging, do you wanna say hi?”

“Vlogging?”

“Yes, say hi.”

“BuT tO wHo?”

After a while he gets used to it though

“You’re vlogging? Hey guys.”

You have to beg him to be in videos otherwise he won’t do it

When he does though it’s usually a good old “How well do we know each other challenge” and sometimes you can even manage to rope him into one of those “picking each others clothes” videos

He’ll make appearances in vlogs though

Actually quite likes holding the camera

He ends up seeing fans in public and when they come up to him he’s like “👁👄👁 how do you know who i am?” But after the initial shock he’s really nice to them

Will facetime you so they can say hi

Absolutely 100% gains a fanbase of his own

All the comments under your videos with him are the funniest things ever with some gems such as:

“Haru really said 😐(😍🥰)😐”

“POV: ur the camera seeing Haru actually smiling ❤️👄❤️”

“#saveharu”

Makoto:

Supportive king!!!

Hands down your number one fan

He’s always offering to help you with your videos

Is always down with being in videos with you

His favourite thing is making videos like story times and doing gaming videos with you

Which are usually pretty chaotic and funny

The gaming videos provide your subs with a lot of cute y/n-makoto content

“Babe I suck at this”

“No you don’t, you’re the best” he says it really quietly while smashing buttons and taking his game very seriously

Vlogs are the best too, he talks to the camera like he’s on a FaceTime

“Oh! Hey guys, how are you all doing? I hope you’re doing good.”

Your fans love him

You’ve earned the “mom and dad” title

Since they love him so much you often let him take over daily vlogs

“Hey guys. Y/n isn’t feeling great today so you’re stuck with me!”

The comment section:

“Hi dad 🥺😭”

“Imagine having a boyfriend who loves u enough to literally do your job for you when you’re sick 😭😭😭😭”

“Whose gonna tell y/n that her boyfriend contemplated bringing home like 5 different cats 😳”

Everyone wants you to give him an e-boy transformation

You’re still trying to convince him

Rei:

I think he’d really enjoy doing videos with you

Not camera shy at all

The man has a lot to say

His partner has a beautiful online presence and he’s super proud of you!

He’d love making videos that have a little bit of competitiveness to them

Loves a challenge

Playing boyfriend tags with him is stressful af because he has the date of everything you’ve ever done memorised

Absolutely BODIES the swapping clothes for a day videos

He’s a really good sport and your fans really like him

“Rei looks better in a skirt than I do, you guys...”

“I simply can’t help my calf muscles, my love.”

Not great with vlogging

The comments you get:

“Rei when the vlog camera comes out in the mall 🙈 i do not see🙈”

“I wanna see them wear matching outfits 👀”

“Y/n please ask Rei to start up a studying channel 😭”

You actually rope him into making a study tips video with you

To be fair he does most of the talking and you just listen and look at him like 🤩🥰

He loves interacting with fans

He’s always liking and commenting on fan edits of you on Instagram

Nagisa:

Jenna and Julien. Jenna and Julien. Jenna and Julien. Jenna and Julien.

Most chaotic baby on camera

Craft! Videos!

Also chaotic challenges

King of gaming videos

He also is willing to let you put make up on him

“Nagisa, I’m begging you, please sit still.”

Absolutely does not sit still but gives you a lil kiss

He’s so sweet on and off camera

Most of your vlog content is just him doing golden retriever boy stuff

Your audience adore him

Videos come up in your suggestions and they’re all like, “Nagisa being chaotic for ten minutes straight”, “Y/n trying to get Nagisa to pay attention for 4 minutes.”

He gets so excited when your doing videos together, “Yeah guys, this is actually my channel now. I’m taking it over.”

“No he isn’t.”

“Yes I am. Sorry babe but you’re fired.”

Mr. Steal your channel

Rin:

😍😍😍 am i right?

First of all; he’s such a heart throb

Your fans are obsessed with him

He always wants you to work out with him so you decide to get some content out of it

Video gems like “Eating like my olympian Boyfriend for a week”

“RinRin, how the fuck are you even still alive?”

“It’s a salad, Y/n, not a bowl of air.”

“Who the fuck orders a salad at a restaurant, Rin?”

“I’m so sorry that you guys have to hear this profanity.” He says to the camera as if he doesn’t swear every five seconds

Those are usually the types of videos you guys make together

The comments you guys get when he’s feeling lovey in a video

“Oh to be Y/n 😓”

“Alexa, play sweater weather by the neighbourhood”

“The way he looks at her. Im in pain.”

“If they ever break up, i want you to put me down.”

Vlogging at the movies is hilarious because 99% of the time when you come out he’s crying

“Guys please stop telling Rin to take his shirt off on camera, he literally can’t say no and it’s distracting.”

Rin swimming content is highly requested

And what can you say? You give the people what they want 😌✨

Albert:

He’s into it

Once the camera comes on, this man becomes a comedic legend

“Hey guys, today we’re uh, doing something. I’m gonna be honest I don’t know, I didn’t ask. My girlfriend pulls out the camera and I do what I’m told.”

“We’re going to give you different aesthetics.”

He’s like 🤗 “oh okay go for it”

Very complient

He’s down for absolutely anything

“Content is content baby”

Sometimes he just comes into your video room and hijacks your videos

“Thought I’d pop in and say hi”

And by pop in and say hi he actually means sit beside you and look at the camera like he’s on The Office

Oh my god do the fans love this man

He trolls them

He sees comments like, “Y/n is so cute! 😍” and he’s like, “That’s why she has a boyfriend.”

They love him though and if he sees them out in public he’s super sweet

Kaede:

(Im ngl this dude kinda scares me)

Probably has to be coaxed into making videos with you

I get the impression that this man is cocky on camera

Did someone say ✨pda✨

“K, I’m making a video”

“So?”

Doesn’t really interact with fans

Or pay too much attention when he’s actually filming with you

He doesn’t really care but he does it because it makes you happy

He’s more responsive when it comes to vlogs

“I’ve convinced y/n to come to the pool with me, she doesn’t swim but she looks hot in a swimsuit. Not as good as I do, but still.”

You have to cut a lot of the stuff he says out of videos

He makes so many innuendos

✨comments✨:

“It’s the way Kaede doesn’t care about literally anything for me 🙈”

“Someone please check on Y/n, she’s TIRED 😩😓.”

[cheri-cheri]

[L&N] Ch 10 - Ward No. 6 (Part 2)

🍒 Warning: Contains detailed spoilers from Ch 10 of Light and Night 🍒

Part 1: here

Highly recommended to read the Trajectory Stories before reading this!

What MC sees are nurses and family members of the granny surrounding Charlie, one of them being Yang Yang

The granny’s son tells Charlie that he wants to put an end to her treatment, which will basically kill her

The son explains that the previous doctor noted that there’s no hope for the granny regaining consciousness, and medical fees as expensive

The nurse tells MC that the granny’s original doctor suggested that treatment should be halted. However, Charlie insisted on taking over, and has been working overtime to come up with a solution for her

Charlie assures him that although the situation is grim, it doesn’t mean there is no hope. He proposes a new treatment method

Charlie admits that he cannot guarantee the success of the method, but the chances of the granny surviving will increase by 20%

The son then brings up his financial concerns as he’s worried about his livelihood after paying for the treatment

Charlie says that he will shoulder the entire cost

But the son still feels hopeless when he thinks of his mother just laying on the bed with tubes sticking all over her, feeling and hearing nothing

Charlie tries to persuade him once again that there is still hope

The son receives conflicting advice from the people around him, and decides that he doesn’t want his mother to suffer any longer

It suddenly dawns on MC that all this time, the only person who hasn’t made an input about whether the granny should continue to live is the granny herself

And the granny’s opinion should be what matters most 

MC is struck with an idea

[ Notable Scene - Believe ]

I tug on the nurse’s wrist.

MC: Could you do me a favour? I have something really important to tell Dr Zha.

Standing in a corner of the corridor, I wait anxiously.

The family members of the patient and medical personnel were at the scene earlier, and I wasn’t able to bring up such an outrageous thing in front of them. I can only wait for the nurse to request for Charlie to come here.

Even so, I feel a sheen of cold sweat on my back. It turns out that revealing one’s talent to someone else isn’t an easy thing.

Will he believe me? Will he think that I’m playing around during this nerve-racking time? I have no idea, and can only wait with my back turned, preparing a draft in my head.

MC: Charlie, listen to me. This is definitely not a joke. I might be able to know if that unconscious elderly woman has a will to live. I have an ability which allows me to sense someone’s emotions by touching them.

While speaking, I feel my courage fading away, and my voice gradually softens.

MC: Will he really believe me?

Charlie: Sensing emotions through touch?

The voice behind me causes me to jump. How long has Charlie been standing there?

The chaotic aura from the crowd seems to linger on his frame, and dust has dirtied the hem of his white coat.

MC: Mm. I incidentally discovered this ability a while ago, and it might be useful for this situation.

His dark purple eyes are crystal clear, and the emotions contained within are difficult to read. All I can see is my own state of unease reflected in them.

With a blink, Charlie chuckles softly.

Charlie: I believe you.

Thinking that I’d get questioned further, I’m stunned by his ready response.

MC: Huh? Just like that? Why?

Charlie: Very simple. One, I do need this “ability” right now.

He seems to contemplate on the word “ability”, using his fingers to make a frame in front of my face.

Charlie: Two, I believe that what you say is the truth.

Then, he taps on the corner of his eye.

Charlie: Most importantly, I believe in what I see.

His logic, while outlandish as always, gives me the joy of being trusted by someone.

MC: In that case, could you take me to the elderly woman now?

The arcs at the corners of Charlie’s lips dip slightly.

Charlie: Come with me. You need to be disinfected first.

The temperature is very low in the changing room, and the ICU ward for burn victims is on the other side of the wall. There’s a complete set of products for disinfection and sterilisation on the cart.

After putting on a mask and cap, I squeeze the disinfectant lotion onto my palm and give it a rub. All of a sudden, I have no idea what to do next.

MC: Charlie, how do you usually disinfect yourself? Do my arms need to be disinfected too?

Charlie: Stretch out your hand.

Charlie uses a finger to lift up the bracelet on my wrist. Frowning at it for two seconds, he unclasps the complicated buckle with ease. The bracelet lands on a counter at the side with a soft thud.

Without lifting his head, he presses the bottle of disinfectant, disinfecting himself in a routine manner. Then, he squeezes a little more liquid and covers it over the back of my hand. 

Charlie’s hands aren’t conventionally beautiful. I can see scars that have been tended to meticulously, and can see that his fingernails have have been cut short, barely covering his nail beds.

The middle segment of his fingers seem to be a little coarser than those of ordinary people. There’s a small faded scar on the back of his hand, and the edges of his palms are a little rough. On closer look, there seems to be cracks on them.

His palms are damp and cool, his finger pads warm and dry. His slender fingers brush the spaces between my fingers, and in between my thumb and index finger, meticulously rubbing each one of my fingertips twice.

Charlie: Why are you trembling?

While my hand is being held neither lightly nor roughly, I feel myself quivering.

Charlie: It’s understandable if you’re nervous. After all, this is the first time we’re holding hands.

MC: Even now, you’re still acting like this.

Charlie: What about it? This is called being romantic. You’re hurting a man’s heart.

MC: Pfft...

Charlie: Smiling now? Still feeling nervous?

MC: You were helping me to relax? 

Charlie: You looked like you were preparing for war. I’ve never seen this side of you before. It’s pretty cute.

MC: ...focus on washing my hands!

Charlie lowers his head and chuckles, handing a pair of gloves to me.

Charlie: The hands of a perfect surgeon never tremble on an operating table. As Dr Zha’s assistant, you must demand the same standard from yourself.

He watches me, his usual smile on his lips.

Following this, we change into protective gear. Charlie stands behind me, smoothening both ends and wrapping it around me.

I spot a reflection of myself in the window. I’m in full gear, and only my eyes can be seen.

Shortly after, Charlie puts on his gear as well. We can no longer see each other’s expressions, but our thoughts are conveyed even more clearly through our eyes.

Charlie: The scene inside will be very difficult for you to accept.

MC: I've mentally prepared myself.

Charlie: If you’re afraid, just look into my captivating eyes.

There isn’t a trace of a joke on his face, and I nod seriously. 

MC: Mm.

MC enters the ICU and spots Yang Yang’s granny

The sight of large patches of charred black skin and tons of tubes sticking into the granny’s body causes MC’s legs to go weak

She touches the granny’s hand and tries using her talent

But she doesn’t see anything :<

This makes her feel discouraged because she knows that her talent is still unstable

Charlie places his hand on her shoulder

While she’s mired in her sense of defeat and fear, Charlie breaks her out of it:

Charlie: Turn around.

I turn my head, meeting his gaze squarely. His dark purple eyes look into mine for a while. Then, Charlie nods.

Charlie: Mm, done.

I’m taken aback for a second, then recall what he said just before we entered the room.

She tries using her talent again. This time, she succeeds. Not only that, but it’s the first time she hears the voice of someone’s heart this clearly

The granny had rushed into the fire to salvage Yang Yang’s favourite doll, because she felt that she didn’t do much for him as a grandmother :’<

MC cries and says that she understands what the granny is trying to convey

[ Notable Scene - After the ICU ]

After leaving the ward, I remove the protective gear. All of a sudden, I feel a wave of nausea. I rush over to a dustbin, retching.

I finally stop puking after a while, catching my breath while sitting on a chair. 

A box of tissues is handed to me.

Lifting my head, I see Charlie’s face in my blurry vision.

MC: Were you just standing there and watching this whole time...

Charlie: It’s okay, you puked with a lot of class.

He nips a sheet of tissue, dabbing it against the corners of my eyes.

Charlie: Are you able to stand?

After giving it a try, I find myself completely weak. I shake my head.

MC: I’ll just sit here by myself for a while. I should be fine. The old granny still has a will to live. You have to tell-

While speaking, my words end up stuck halfway.

MC: But will the family believe this?

Charlie looks at me for a while. He takes my hand, then unfolds his own palm.

I don’t move, watching as he brings my fingertip to that spot.

Charlie: What do you feel?

What does he mean? Does he want me to sense his emotions?

Unexpectedly, I’m able to sense it quickly and successfully. I don’t even have to close my eyes.

Every corner of my body is filled with warmth, reminiscent of a warm sun on a winter day.

MC: I sense... gratitude.

Charlie smiles. I rarely see such a pure and warm smile, and am left in a momentary gaze.

He bends down, drawing close to my ear.

Charlie: As expected of my fiancée. 

The corner of his white coat disappears at the end of the corridor. I touch my own cheek, finding it a little warm.

After a short rest, I stand up, heading towards the admission office. Even though I still feel a little weak, I’m worried about the situation.

The entrance of the admission office is emptier than before, and MC wonders if everything went smoothly

It did NOT

The director of the hospital, Director Sun, assumes that MC is an outsider and asks a nurse to take her away

Charlie introduces her to everyone: “To prevent all of you from not knowing how to address her when expressing your gratitude - this is MC, my fiancée. She was the one who allowed me to understand the true wishes of the patient.”

Director Sun, thinks that they should respect the wishes of the patient’s family and put an end to the treatment

Charlie says that this presupposes that the patient’s family is aware of the patient’s wishes, and also points out the superficial way in which Director Sun managed the patient

Another old doctor acknowledges that while Charlie is concerned about the patient, the surgery he proposes is too complicated. If he fails and the family is unable to accept it, Charlie’s reputation would be ruined

Director Sun brings up an “Elsie’s Treatment Incident”, and advises him not to follow in his teacher’s footsteps

This finally breaks Charlie’s composure, but only for a moment

He hands the son of the granny a new agreement for the treatment, explains the risks and possibilities thoroughly, and tells him to look for Charlie in the office once he has made a decision

Charlie: As a doctor, I want her to wake up more than anyone else.

[ Notable Scene - Charlie’s Office ]

Returning to Charlie’s office, I notice that the sky has long since been enveloped by a heavy curtain of night.

Along the way, my mind was filled with the dispute between Charlie and Director Sun. His work in the hospital doesn’t seem to be as smooth sailing as I thought.

The matter relating to a medical treatment and his teacher - what’s this about?

While Charlie’s attention is on files on the table, I take out my phone, typing in the words: “Elsie Treatment Incident”.

The Elsie Treatment Incident, according to the internet, involved a doctor called Elsie who treated a girl, Irma, who suffered from meningococcal meningitis.

Irma’s life was in danger, and almost half of her body was amputated during a surgery in order to keep her alive.

However, the price was that this 17-year-old girl became completely paralysed, losing her ability to move and lead an ordinary life.

Half a year later, Irma and her parents were found to have committed suicide in their home. The reasons were - according to their suicide note - the exorbitant debt from the treatment, as well as the burden that a paralysed Irma brought to them.

Irma’s maternal aunt lodged a suit against Dr Elsie, because the suicide note mentioned that the doctor “persuaded” them to accept the treatment when they had already planned to abandon the idea.

Of course, this suit couldn’t hold water. Even so, Dr Elsie was detained for a long time, and received backlash from discussion forums.

MC: Dr Elsie was Charlie’s tutor?

Complex emotions surge in my heart.

It was a similar situation with uncertain results. Back then, the hospital faced condemnation until Dr Elsie left her post. 

When she left, Dr Elsie stated that she would no longer practise medicine, and there was no more news of her.

Charlie: Why aren’t you asking about the Elsie Treatment Incident?

A voice interrupts my train of thought. At some point, Charlie had finished looking through the files. He’s sitting on a swivel chair, turning to and fro.

MC: What?

Charlie: You’re definitely filled with worry for me, and can barely suppress the urge to ask about what I’d experienced in the past.

Although the degree is a little exaggerated, I’m unable to retort for once.

MC: I am a little worried... which is why I searched it up on my phone.

Charlie: Why didn’t you ask me directly?

MC: I thought... you might not be willing to talk about it.

Charlie is taken aback for a moment, but he quickly smiles.

Charlie: I didn’t expect my fiancée to be this considerate. But when you’re worried about me, you have to ask about it.

Since he’s put it this way, perhaps Charlie is one of the few people who can dispel my doubts regarding some issues in the article.

Option 1: Ask about the “persuasion”

Option 2: Ask why Dr Elsie didn’t continue practising medicine

[ Option 1: Ask about the “persuasion” ]

MC: I’ll ask away then. Why was it stated that Dr Elsie “persuaded” the patient?

The corners of Charlie’s lips curve icily.

Charlie: Because she said something when Irma’s parents were at a loss. “If the both of you are unable to make a decision, leave your hopes to me.”

That’s it? In that case, I’m a little shocked at how baseless the complaint was in the suicide note.

Charlie: There’s no reason to be shocked. Nobody can confront the dead, but everyone can make a fuss about the term “persuaded”. At the very end, Dr Elsie herself believed that the “persuasion” she made was a mistake.

[ Option 1 ends ]

[ Option 2: Ask why Dr Elsie didn’t continue practising medicine ]

MC: I’ll ask away then. If the suit didn’t succeed, why didn’t she continue practising medicine?

Charlie: A failed suit doesn’t mean that her reputation wasn’t damaged. Being called into question like that affected her state of mind. Dr Elsie became unable to make judgements. She was afraid that her judgements would lead to incorrect results.

Listening to his words, the worry in my heart seems to grow larger.

I suddenly feel like asking: If he were in a similar situation, what would he have done?

Would he regret the choice he made? Would he no longer be able to trust his own judgement? But the more I think about it, this doesn’t seem likely. After all, this is Charlie.

[ Option 2 ends ]

While I'm deep in thought, knocks come at the door. The nurse from before stands at the entrance, her expression a little solemn.

She walks into the office, placing a document on the table.

Nurse: Dr Zha, the family of the patient has just signed a contract to abandon the treatment. They have... already seen her for the last time.

My mind instantly goes blank, and I instinctively rush to the table.

Streaks of tears fill the white sheet of paper, and the signature at the bottom has been smudged blurry. Nevertheless, there’s a signature.

A line of words are written right at the bottom.

Doctor, we really can’t go on any further. If my mother knew that her treatment would be a burden on the entire family, she wouldn’t be happy either.

The next sheet of paper is the parting letter that Yang Yang wrote for his grandmother.

Nurse: According to the patient’s parting letter, the family agrees to have her body dissected and her organs donated.

Charlie: Got it.

I feel tears running down my cheeks. I didn’t expect to cry, but they dampen my entire face without me realising it.

I know fully well that it isn’t ethical to let an elderly person suffer, and that every household has its problems.

Perhaps just as what’s written on the white sheet of paper, the elderly woman would have chosen to give up if she knew about her children’s situation.

I know all of this. It’s just...

The treatment method which won’t be used.

The dispute with Director Sun.

The elderly woman’s own wishes, the issue of money, the knot in the hearts of her family members.

And everything Charlie was willing to shoulder.

I kept thinking that after doing so many things, there’d at least be a small change to the result.

In countless futures with low probabilities, perhaps there might have been someone with a longing like the elderly woman. She would have recovered. Although not as mobile as before, she'd have been able to watch her grandson grow up healthily. 

My tear-muddied vision grows dim, and I catch a faint whiff of disinfectant lotion. In the next second, something warm covers the back of my head.

That palm is a little stiff, as though he doesn’t know what to do. He gives me two pats on the head before rubbing it.

Charlie: Don’t cry. If anyone sees this, they might think I did something to you.

MC: You... I... I just feel that...

On behalf of the person in front of me, I just feel that...

MC: You lost.

Standing at the entrance of the ICU ward, Charlie places a hand on his chest, forcefully pressing on the heart which feels as though it’s about to explode.

The pain he’s been suppressing for a very long time causes him to grit his teeth.

He pushes the door open. Unsurprisingly, that woman once again stands beside the patient who is about to die. Deep purple eyes similar to his curve into gentle arcs.

???: Darling, can you give Mommy the medicine? They are just painkillers. Mommy is in great pain.

As though he sees nothing, Charlie lowers his head. He cuts the adhesive plaster of the breathing tube, then holds onto the tube.

He suddenly notices a tiny wound on the side of the elderly woman’s neck. The wound is a little strange, and doesn’t seem to be left from an ordinary surgery. Instead, it looks like the result of a certain precise “modification”.

If only he had taken over this case earlier...

???: Do you think everyone is like Mommy - that they can be saved after enduring for a while longer? Charlie, do you regret it now? Someone else has been killed again.

The woman speaks again, her voice as gentle as a lullaby.

Charlie doesn’t respond, and he shuts off the ventilator.

The elderly woman’s heart stops. Charlie records the time, then presses the intercom in the room.

Charlie: Send her to the dissecting room.

He stands before the bed, and is silent for a while. Just a few hours ago, his fiancée was here, trembling as she touched that tragic body.

When he lifts his head, the woman is no longer around. This seems to be the first time he didn’t converse with her.

Two shady people are on the roof

A nameless guy notifies the other guy, Lu Ting, that the “new experiment subject” died 8 minutes ago

Lu Ting tells him to handle it

I think this is related to Evan’s route which I have 0 knowledge about LOL

[ Notable Scene - With Charlie ]

The clock in the office shows that it is already 8pm. Sticking ice packs underneath my eyes, I stand at the door while waiting for Charlie to return.

This large hospital has actually become very stuffy from a certain point of time.

Charlie: Let me see if they’re any better?

Removing the ice packs, Charlie scrutinises my face for several seconds.

Charlie: You no longer resemble a goldfish.

I try to force myself to smile. Realising that the wind has dried the tears on my face, I decide to give up.

Charlie: If you aren’t in a hurry to go home, head out for a stroll with me.

Without any hesitation, I nod. This is the first time I’ve wanted to leave a place this badly.

However, it slips my mind that the huge monster which stands indifferently in the middle of life of death, swallowing life indiscriminately, is the life that Charlie must face every day.

Whether it’s daytime or nighttime, there are always people walking around here.

Someone’s squatting along the corridor, huddled into a ball and sobbing silently. Someone’s wiping his tears dry, pretending to be optimistic before entering a ward.

Illnesses are the world’s cruelest levellers. Whether you’ve experienced it firsthand or are simply an observer, nobody can escape from its torture.

-

It’s only when fresh air surges towards me that I realise how the acrid scent of medicinal lotion had controlled my sense of smell earlier, making me think that it’s a scent which should be present in the air.

Sitting on a long bench beneath the night sky, I find myself turning my head to look at Charlie’s side profile.

His pale face fades in the darkness of night, and he looks like a soldier who is fighting a battle alone. He seems a little sad, along with a twinge of self-reproach.

What’s on his mind right now? Despite being accustomed to witnessing life and death, is he experiencing this same heaviness which can’t be described even with thousands and thousands of words?

I find myself holding his hand.

MC: When I was a child, I had a high fever.

MC: It went over 40 degrees, and I was unconscious. My maternal grandmother said that the fever didn’t go down for several days and nights.

MC: We went to many hospitals, but they couldn’t identify the problem. They gave me injections, put me on IVs, and gave me medication. Even after doing this repeatedly, things didn’t get better.

MC: While my grandmother didn’t give up, she became physically and emotionally exhausted. At that point, a doctor told my grandmother to keep persevering.

MC: As long as there’s a thread of hope, he’d do his best to find the cause of my illness, and enable me to grow up healthily.

My fist clenches subconsciously. Charlie unfolds his palm, enveloping my fist in his hand.

MC: I was fortunate. I really recovered, and managed to grow up successfully.

MC: If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have been in this world since a long time ago.

Charlie: And you wouldn’t have met me.

He looks at me, his gaze a little gentle.

MC: Yeah, I wouldn’t have met you. 

MC: Afterwards, I realised that even someone like him would have experienced times of hopelessness. Life is truly too fragile.

MC: But as long as you try your best, and as long as you try your hardest, you won’t have any regrets.

MC: Life might not have meaning in itself, but saving lives is definitely meaningful.

MC: Don’t blame yourself.

Charlie: [chuckles} ...

MC: Why are you laughing?

He doesn’t respond, and simply smiles. Perhaps my eyes are playing tricks on me, but there seems to be a mistiness in his eyes.

Gradually, the mist dispels. I see his warm grin, which isn’t the same smile that I usually see on his face.

Charlie: Nothing much. I’m just thinking that my fiancée...

He doesn’t continue. The bragging that usually comes after that term of address doesn’t arrive this time.

The evening breeze courses over. It’s a little chilly. Without realising it, half of autumn has already gone by.

Charlie: Thanks.

MC: You’re saying “thanks” to me?

Charlie: I can also say “dear”.

MC: ...

Charlie: Why are you smiling?

MC: I just find this pretty miraculous. The last time we sat side by side like this was in your car. Back then, I never would have believed that we’d be able to chat this calmly.

Charlie: It must be because you saw my captivating appearance at work. Your heart stirred, and couldn’t help yourself.

MC: No way! But if you weren’t a doctor, we might not have met again.

Charlie is silent for a while, casting his gaze on a certain faraway place.

Charlie: In the past, I didn’t actually think of becoming a doctor.

MC: Huh? What did you want to be?

Charlie: A firefighter.

His answer is very quick. When it leaves his lips, he releases a breath, as though he’s unloading a huge rock.

MC: Firefighters and doctors don’t seem related in any way... You’re really strange. Aren’t you the heir of a tycoon? Why did you think of becoming a firefighter?

Charlie: Because it’s cool.

He shrugs, his gaze remaining locked on a certain place.

Charlie: At that time, I was even a volunteer firefighter for a while.

MC: Your family agreed to it?

Charlie: Of course not. Having my finances cut, being stopped at the labour union - I’ve experienced it all.

MC: Since you were so persistent, why did you become a doctor in the end?

Even after a long time, I don’t hear his response.

Following his gaze, I spot a cluster of helium balloons of various colours beneath the pitch-black sky. An elderly couple are sitting on the steps, selling them to passers-by.

A boy leans on the elderly woman’s shoulder.

I heard that in order to be around to take care of patients, many of their family members choose to set up stalls near the hospital in order to earn a meagre income.

A crystal clear song drifts from that end.

Small children have very small problems. Look around, the sun is shining.

Small children have very small problems, may this remain forever.

Charlie’s gaze remains fixed on those balloons. The corners of his lips curl upwards slightly, as though he’s recalling a certain past.

MC: Give me a moment.

I let go of his head, heading towards the balloon stall.

MC: Hello granny. I’d like to get a purple balloon.

Heading back with the balloon, I notice that Charlie is no longer on the bench.

Puzzled, I scan my surroundings, only to see him walking out of the convenience store with milk and bread in his hands.

Charlie: A lack of a regular diet will cause gastric acid to come into contact with your stomach membrane, resulting in gastric mucosal congestion and edema. 

MC: Thanks, Dr Zha.

Just as I’m about to take the bread, he grabs my left hand, tying the string of the purple balloon around it twice with a knot.

MC: But I bought this for you.

Charlie: I know. The balloon is mine, and my fiancée is also mine.

MC: ...focus on eating and don’t speak!

Charlie: Got it.

As I stare up at the sky, I think to myself: It'd be nice if the evening could remain this peaceful. However, accidents always catch one off guard.

BOOM.

Behind us, a loud sound akin to an explosion shatters the silence.

Turning around, the sound of an alarm vaguely drifts into my ears. A pungent smell of smoke and dust drifts into the air, and there seems to be innumerable flickers floating around.

Charlie: That’s the fire alarm of the hospital. From the looks of it, the dissecting room likely caught on fire. They acted quickly.

Another fire.

Memories of being in the fire from before encases me, and I’m too preoccupied to ask him what he meant by “acted quickly”.

I grip the glass bottle in my hands, but I’m unable to stop my fingers from trembling.

Charlie has already removed his outer coat in a swift movement, gesturing for me to take it.

Charlie: Take care of this coat for me. It’s way too filthy in there.

MC: You’re going in? No way, that’s too dangerous!

Charlie: Before getting married to you, I won’t be so silly as to lose my life. I’ve been a volunteer firefighter, so I’m nothing less than a professional.

I look at him hesitantly, watching as his eyes are gradually dyed with a resolute and solemn shade.

With this, I understand that he has a task to do. Similarly, I have mine. I nod vigorously.

MC: Got it. Are you sure it’s the dissecting room? I’ll notify the firefighters and the front desk of the hospital. Be careful. We don’t know how the situation is like inside.

With his back towards me, he gives me a wave, reminiscent of heroes in movies before they leave.

As Charlie heads towards the dissecting room, the fire doesn’t touch Charlie because of his vacuum talent, which causes the fire lapping at him to get sucked into a black hole

He basically sashays into the dissecting room, extinguishing the flames in style and with this smug expression despite the background still showing flames:

All of a sudden, a familiar voice says, “Watch out!” and prevents a fluorescent light from smashing into Charlie 

It’s Jesse!

They ask each other what they’re doing there

Charlie glances at the body in the dissecting room, which has already been damaged by the fire. He asks Jesse what happened

Notable conversation: 

Jesse: This is a dispute between us and the Blood Clan. Does the Spirit Clan want to intervene as well?

Charlie: Humans are the same as always, preferring not to share.

At this point, the fire starts again, even fiercer than before

Jesse: Those from the Blood Clan are here.

Charlie: I can smell them. If you beg me, I could consider bringing you out of here.

Jesse: I don’t need it.

There’s another explosion above them and the walls start quaking

Charlie grabs Jesse before a steel bar smashes into him

Charlie: No need for thanks. It’s repayment for earlier.

As the situation gets dire, they exchange glances, and come to the same decision

Charlie: Humans are so strange, mincing around even when it comes to working together.

They rush out just as the floor collapses

DOES THIS MEAN CHARLIE IS NOT HUMAN LOL

[ Notable Scene - From the Fire ]

My heart beats frantically and uneasily.

I watch as the large fire grows increasingly ferocious, with no signs of it being extinguished. Is Charlie still inside? Will anything happen to him?

Placing the outer coat he asked me to take care of on the front desk, I run towards the building with the dissecting room.

Although it’s only a hundred metres away, why does it feel so distant at this moment?

I keep reciting Charlie’s name in my heart, praying that he’d be fine.

By the time I reach the first floor of the building, police cordons have already been set up across the area. Firefighters are racing against time while performing a rescue operation. I hurriedly tell them that Charlie is still inside.

Every second of waiting feels boundlessly long. At this juncture, I’m finally experience hopelessness. The hopelessness of destiny holding you in its grasp, leaving you unable to ward it off, and powerless to resist against.

But he promised that he’d be fine. I should trust him, and I have to trust him.

I try to stifle my alarm, squeezing myself through the crowd, wanting to have a look at the situation inside. Just a little is enough.

MC: Sorry, please make way! Someone I know is still inside!

All of a sudden, a familiar figure appears in my line of sight, along with that somewhat arrogant gait, and that eye-catching silvery gray hair.

MC: !!

My world seems to be separated by a glass of vacuum, becoming completely silent.

As he walks over step by step, he’s reminiscent of a strong gale which can’t be obstructed by anything. As glass shatters behind him, sunlight streams in, and the surroundings once again become real.

I open my mouth. Before I can return to my senses, I’m held in an embrace which smells of smoke and ash. His arms tremble slightly, as though verifying something, and I find myself wanting to hug him even more tightly.

At this moment, I suddenly feel an inexplicable sourness in my nose. Time sends me back to that evening when we first met. At some point, our lives had already become tightly interwoven.

I hug him forcefully. This is the first time I feel so close to death.

My lips part and close, wanting to say something. However, my mind is a complete blank, and I can only exclaim my instinctual reaction.

MC: Charlie! Are you making me worry on purpose!

Charlie: Won’t my death fulfil your wish? The engagement would be cancelled.

He hugs me tightly, but it doesn’t change his teasing tone.

MC: If you continue with that, I’m ignoring you.

Charlie: Okay okay okay, I won’t.

MC: When you do anything next time, could you consider those around you... It’s said that disasters last for a thousand years. Shouldn’t a first-class disaster like you live for many, many years?

Charlie: Yes, I’m a disaster, a disaster exclusively for you.

He releases his hold on me, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

Charlie: Since you’re crying like this, I’m very certain that your heart has truly been stirred.

MC: No it’s not!

Charlie: That’s a little troubling. If your heart doesn’t stir soon, my heart will.

Although I’ve already stopped crying, I suddenly have no idea if I should laugh or cry again. As such, I simply keep a straight face.

MC: You’re not allowed to take such risks again! Charlie, you’re already the most incredible doctor to me.

Charlie: ...what?

Not expecting that I’d say this at all, he’s left slightly dumbfounded.

MC: There’s something I haven’t had the time to tell you. When I was checking to see if Yang Yang’s granny had a will to live, I felt something from her - gratitude.

I look into Charlie’s eyes seriously.

MC: Charlie, she was grateful to you. What you did wasn’t wrong.

Back then, my strength wasn’t stable, and the elderly woman’s emotions were very scant.

Aside from wanting to live, there were many other small, drifting emotions I was unable to distinguish, and I’m unable to remember if one of them was gratitude.

But for some reason, I feel that I should say this to him. Immediately, right now, telling him everything I want to say to him.

MC: You’re already a very, very incredible doctor.

Even before I finish speaking, I’m once again wrapped in his embrace. This time, his arms no longer tremble, and are no longer in a fluster. My ear sticks tightly against his chest, and I can hear his heart beating ardently.

Charlie: Fiancée, I waited for you, and you really came.

And that’s the end of Charlie’s route ~

For the sake of completeness, I’ll summarise a little bit of Jesse’s split path, which begins at the point where MC leaves Charlie’s coat at the front desk

She receives a text from Charlie which reads: There’s a slight problem at the dissecting room, and I'm handling it right now. Don’t worry, I’m fine.

MC leaves the hospital, walking around aimlessly until she reaches an empty plaza. At least, she thinks it’s empty until Jesse notices her

Jesse admits that he can see and communicate with the dead

In fact, he can see the spirit of Yang Yang’s granny right now

Jesse tells MC that the granny wants to borrow his body for a while because she still has things to say

During the possession, the granny writes on paper that Jesse prepared: Yang Yang, may you be safe and happy. Son and daughter-in-law, I’m sorry. Doctors and nurses, thank you.

The granny leaves Jesse, and he’s left in a very weak state

Jesse: She wants to thank you. Thank you for telling her family that she wanted to live.

Blah blah Jesse plot

[lucky-sevens]

so, you’ve heard about the mechanisms, but have no idea what they are or how to get into them?

the mechanisms are a steampunk folk concept band! if you’re familiar with the decemberists, some of the stuff david bowie has done, or steam powered giraffe, it’s a bit like that- each album tells a story! (the albums are all tragic space operas, with the added bonus of being very queer!)

the bit where it starts to get complicated is the band itself. they’re all playing characters, and they do their shows in character! so, basically, the narration on the albums isn’t omniscient- it’s being narrated by the mechanisms, who have opinions about the story and tend to get involved in it at some point. to differentiate them from the actual band, i’m going to refer to them as ‘the crew of the aurora’!

further details under the cut! (edit: added some links!)

the albums

they have 4 main albums, which you can listen to on spotify, bandcamp and youtube! just look them up, there's a youtube account called TheVoidSings that does lyric videos + album playlists, as well as the mechanisms official account! in addition, they are all linked at the end of this post.

(note: the albums are all tragedies, and there’s some pretty intense stuff that can happen- i wouldn’t let that steer you away from it as they are very good and well done, but if you tend to like lighter or happier stories, be a bit careful going in? a lot of queer characters tend to die- because 1. everyone dies and 2. everyone is queer- which, while it’s not bury your gays, i know some people like to avoid.)

album descriptions

-once upon a time (in space)- based on european fairy tales! stars snow white and her attempt to rebel against the evil king cole and his intergalactic empire and rescue her sister, rose red! also has a lesbian romance at the center! 

-ulysses dies at dawn- based on greek mythology! stars four 'suitors'- orpheus, oedipus, ariadne, and hercules- trying to break into ulysses/odysseus' secret vault on a job for the olympians, an elite mob family with a stranglehold over the planet it takes place on 

-high noon over camelot- a steampunk western based on arthurian legend! features poly arthur, guinevere, and lancelot on a quest for the G.R.A.I.L, the control center of the abandoned space station they're trapped on 

-the bifrost incident- based on norse mythology! a locked room mystery around what happened to the ratatosk express, a train that disappeared eighty years ago with all of the asgardian ruling class on board. this album is also rock, versus the earlier ones which were folkpunk. 

you can listen to them in any order (i've summarized them in order of release), but you should listen to the album of your choice in order/all the way through! (my personal favorite is high noon over camelot!)

the crew

the crew of the aurora is a group of nine queer space pirates! they’re all immortal, mostly because of dr carmilla, a morally ambiguous, very lonely lesbian vampire who has a slight problem with experimenting on dying children. they all have a mechanical part of some kind- for example, ashes o’reilly has mechanical lungs, because they originally died from smoke inhalation. that part is called their mechanism, and it’s what’s keeping them immortal! (also, their immortality works by having them come back from death, rather than being unable to be harmed. this can result in them doing really stupid shit, dying, and then just coming back. they murder each other a lot to bond) there’s a lot of found family vibes, which is quite nice! in general, despite being tragic figures themself, they add an air of humor to the albums with their banter and the like!

each of the crew has their own backstory, mostly from quite different genres! if you’d like a fairly comprehensive version of all their backstory songs, i’d recommend this recorded show and if you’d like just an assessment of their general vibes/a good intro to everything, i’d suggest looking up ‘the ignomious demise of dr plitchard’ (one of their stand-alone songs)

bonus content

recorded gigs- there are quite a few out there, and i’d highly recommend listening to them, because the shows were the original way the media was supposed to be! there’s a ton of in character banter, they’re all in costume, all that! 

death to the mechanisms- the mechanisms’ last show! it has a very bittersweet vibe, but there’s also incredible lighting, as well as proper recordings of tales to be told and drunk space pirate (the songs they play at the beginning and end of each show!) there’s also a lot of lore there that’s nice to know, including what it says on the tin: how they all, eventually, die. note- there’s a stream and an audio version. the stream is choppy and cuts out a lot, and the audio version is nice and clean, but the stream is still nice to watch because of the lighting and the visual jokes.

tales to be told volumes one and two- compilations of all their standalone songs! some of them fit with albums, and some of them are their own retellings that work on their own! this is also where all the backstory songs are compiled, though i’d recommend watching the recorded show i linked instead as that has the relevant exposition. 

frankenstein- a standalone, 10 minute album on youtube about the story of victoria frankenstein and the rogue ai she created.

dr. carmilla albums (exhumed and [un]plugged + ageha prototype edition, available on bandcamp)- songs telling the backstory of doctor carmilla, the mechanisms’ creator! they’re in a different style than the rest- think girl in red. lots of yearning lesbian music vibes. 

mechanisms fiction- this is on their website! has a lot of very interesting lore and character things, and i’d highly recommend reading all of it! it’s also very well written. personally, i’d recommend ulysses and narcissus go to the seaside, the quickest draw, archive footage, and bedtime story for the writing, and ever after, the story of the toy soldier, who killed dr carmilla, and ghost in the machine for lore!

resources

links to almost all the mechanisms content out there!

album links

once upon a time in space- spotify/bandcamp/youtube

ulysses dies at dawn- spotify/bandcamp/youtube

high noon over camelot- spotify/bandcamp/youtube

the bifrost incident- spotify/bandcamp/youtube

bonus content

tales to be told, volume 1- spotify/bandcamp/youtube

tales to be told, volume 2- spotify/bandcamp/youtube

frankenstein- spotify/bandcamp/youtube

mechanisms ‘supplementals’ (songs not in the albums, alternative versions, etc)- youtube

exhumed and (un)plugged- bandcamp/youtube

ageha (prototype edition)- bandcamp/youtube

mechanisms fiction

additional short story

tumblr (mostly an inactive blog for the band to post about shows they were doing, but features some in-character posts)

twitter (ditto)

---

gig compilation post

fiction compilation post

blog compilation post

deep lore post

fanfiction recommendations list

[anonymous-tals]

Oops, I projected my mental health issues onto a fictional character that is similar to me.  Time to write fanfiction, I guess!

TW: Eating Disorders.  If you are struggling or are in recovery from an eating disorder, here’s a big ol’ trigger warning.  There are no numbers or specifics about anything but it does center around Brad Bakshi of the show Mythic Quest struggling with his eating disorder.

This is not in an attempt to glamorize eating disorders(not that I wrote anything that would but just in case someone misinterprets this).  Eating disorders are not cute or quirky.  They are serious illnesses that lead to death.  If you are struggling with an eating disorder, you deserve recovery.  Please reach out for help to a trusted adult.

National Eating Disorder Association 1-800-931-2237

One last trigger warning for eating disorders before we begin!  I hope the writing isn’t trash.  If you have any critiques, feel free to comment them.  I hope you enjoy the story(if this is cringey, future me, you have permission to murder me right now):

Brad’s eyes opened, squinting as he tried to adjust to the harsh lights.  He looked around the room, confused as to where he was.  After a couple of seconds, he identified the room as a hospital room.  There was a lady sitting on a chair by the door reading a book.  Adjusting himself, Brad slowly sat up, his head aching as he did.  The lady perked up as she noticed Brad had awakened.

“Oh!  You’re awake!”, she said, calmly, putting down her book.

“Where-Where am I?”, said Brad.

“You’re in the hospital, sir.”  Brad looked around the room.  The walls were a cool green.  Typical nature photos shuffled through on a tv that was mounted on the wall in front of his bed as it waited to be used.  There was a thin door that he guessed was either a bathroom or a closet.  Brown cupboards lined the walls.  He moved his arm only to notice there was a tube attached to it.

“What the hell happened?”, he thought.  The previous day, or what he presumed to be the previous day, had been foggy.  Well, pretty much everyday lately had been a blur.

“I’m going to go tell a nurse you’re awake so we can do weights and vitals.”  A pang of fear struck him at the sound of the word weight.  Someone else was going to see what he weighed.  His thoughts were racing.

“Just take a deep breath.”, he thought.  He tried to calm himself down by looking around the room.  He noticed there was a card on the counter beneath the cabinets.  Curiosity got the best of him and he stood up.  Stars popped into his vision and he steadied himself before making his way to the counter.  The tube was just barely long enough for him to reach it.  The cover read, ‘Get well soon!’.  Brad walked back to the hospital bed and sat on the edge of the mattress.  “I wonder who it’s from?”, he thought, opening the card.  “I can’t believe you are in the hospital!  You appeared so healthy.  Get well, soon, motu.”

“Brad Bakshi?”, a nurse called from the doorway.  He looked up, tossing the card into a trash can by the bed.  The lady who had been sitting in the room with him walked in and sat down again, opening her book.  “Hello, I’m Amanda Armstrong and I’ll be your nurse today.  Do you know why you’re here?”, she said.

“No.”, Brad replied, shortly.

“Well, you were brought here by…”, she looked down at a clipboard she was holding.  “...Ian Grimm?  Does that name sound familiar?”

“Yes, he’s my boss.”  Brad kept his voice calm but his heart was starting to quicken.  Memories from the day previous began to surface.

“Well, he said you had fainted while walking up a flight of stairs.”  Brad’s calm demeanor cracked as the memories flooded back.

“Oh...yah.  I remember that.”

“Yes, well, you got a concussion.  Thankfully, it isn’t too bad.”

“When will I be getting out?”, Brad said, shaking away his feelings of anxiety.

“Well, let’s take your vitals first and then we can discuss that.  Come with me.”  Brad followed Amanda out into the hall.  They didn’t walk for long but the environment made him feel uneasy.  There was something surreal about it.  Or maybe it was the fact that he felt a little light headed that made everything feel a bit off.  “We’ll be in here.”, said Amanda, opening the door.  Brad entered the room, surveying his surroundings.  It looked like a typical room for check-ups.  Amanda made her way to the computer sitting on the desk and started logging in and opening a file.  “Ok, let’s do your vitals.  I’m going to ask you to lay down and stay still, please!”  She walked over to the wall where a weird machine stood.  “I’m just going to put this on your arm, if you’d roll up your sleeve for me.”  Brad rolled up his sleeve and she velcroed what appeared to be something relating to blood pressure.  “Ok, I’m going to need you to answer honestly.  Have you had any feelings of depression or sadness?”

“Excuse me?”, said Brad, startled, sitting up.

“Please lay down, Mr.Bakshi.  Begrudgingly, Brad lay down.

“Why on earth are you asking me this?”, said Brad, frustrated.

“Well…”, she hesitated.  “Ok, I’m going to be direct with you here.  Your boss reported that you hadn’t been eating much and you have been appearing to be quite fatigued and dizzy.  Right now, we’re doing your vitals to see what we’ll need to do.”

“Are you implying that I have an eating disorder?  I’ll tell you right now that I don’t.”

“Well, the lanugo is telling a different story.  Now, please, let’s go through the questions.”  The nurse asked the questions while doing the vitals despite Brad giving short, passive aggressive answers.

“Ok, time for weight and height.”  Brad's heart quickened.

“Do we have to?”

“I’m going to have you turn around.  You won’t even see it!”  He stepped onto the scale as he tried to hide his growing panic.

“You fat idiot.  If you restricted more, maybe you wouldn’t be so anxious right now.  You wouldn’t even be here, I bet!  You fat, stupid, fatty-”

“Ok, you can step off!”  The nurse's voice interrupted his thoughts and he stepped off the scale.  Ok, let’s do your height.

She measured his height and then went over the computer and input the information.

“Ok.  So, here’s what we’ve got going on here, Mr.Bakshi.  Your vitals are showing symptoms of anorexia and so is your BMI.”

“BMI is garbage.”, Brad said dismissively.

“Well, that doesn’t disregard any of the other information.  I can’t force you to do anything since you’re an adult but I would highly suggest going into inpatient care.”

“For the last time, I don’t have an eating disorder!  Sorry, I care about my health!  I thought losing weight was a good thing!”  The nurse sighed before closing out of the tabs on the computer.

“Well, you can think it over during the next couple days.  You’ll need to stay here to make sure your head is okay.”  Rolling his eyes, Brad scoffed.

“Fine, whatever.  My decision won’t change, though!”

They headed back to the room and Brad sat down on his bed.  He stared at the tv.  It had just faded to a picture of a monarch butterfly on a purple flower.  His gaze travelled across the room until it fell onto the card he had thrown in the trash can.

“I bet I wouldn’t even get diagnosed with anything.  I’m too fat.  I need to be thinner.  I’m not even that bad.  I need to be that bad, though.”  Just then, a sharp knock on the door halted his thoughts in their tracks.  Brad looked up to see David standing at the doorway with a balloon and a gift bag.

  “Great, just what I needed.”, said Brad, sarcastically.

“Nice to see you too, Brad.”  Brad rolled his eyes in response.  “The office was really worried about you!  You sure took a tumble.  Anyways, here’s a balloon!  And a gift!  Courtesy of your friends at the office!”

“Interesting.  I didn’t consider you guys as friends.”, Brad replied coldly.

“What do you want me to say, then?  Huh?  Courtesy of everyone you annoy and pester?”  Brad looked away, not responding.  He was finding it harder and harder to keep his emotions hidden underneath.

“Listen, David.  I don’t care about you guys and you guys don’t care about me and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I’m sorry we’re decent enough human beings to care about other people.”

“Pshh, you don’t care about me.  You just want to feel good about yourselves so you can feel like you’re a decent human being.  So you can stop pretending you care about me because you don’t, ok?  No one does.”  His emotions were slipping through.  He could feel his eyes welling up but he wouldn’t allow the tears to fall.

“Come on, Brad.  Of course people care about you!  Your brother for example!  He’s a great guy!  He threw you that awesome birthday party, remember?”  Brad sat still, not responding.  “Earth to Brad, anyone in there?”, David said, giving a small laugh.

“Shut up!”  Brad shouted loudly, causing David to wince.  “My brother is a horrible person.  He has gone out of his way to ruin my life.  In fact, he is ruining my life right now.”  His voice cracked as a tear broke through.

“Brad, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“Just leave, ok?  Please just leave.”  Brad’s heart began to beat faster.  “You idiot.”, he thought.  “You let him see that you’re weak.  You are weak.  You’re just a fat, weak, pussy.”  His breathing was getting quicker and quicker.  The room started to spin.  It felt like everything was happening all at once.  Just then, he felt a hand on each of his shoulders.

“Take a deep breath, ok?”, said David.  Brad hesitated before taking a deep breath in and letting it out.  “In, 2, 3, 4.  Out, 2, 3, 4.  In, 2-”  Slowly Brad began to calm down.  He opened his eyes, not even realizing that he had closed them.  “Better?”, asked David, taking a step back.  Brad looked towards the window, avoiding eye contact, wiping the tears from his face.  He tried to think of something witty to say but he was too tired.  They were both quiet for a bit before David broke the silence.  “Well, I have to go but I-”

“Stay.  Please.”  Brad didn’t break eye contact with the window.

“I...I guess I could stay.”  David pulled up the chair that the lady had been in earlier.  They sat there in silence for a while before David grabbed the remote for the TV.  “Are you good with me putting something on?”  Brad stayed quiet.  “I’ll take that as a yes!”  He scrolled through the small selection of movies before choosing something and relaxing into his chair.

…

They sat there for a while.  Movies played while David talked about what had happened at the office that day.  Poppy and Ian created an obstacle course to see who was better.  Not better at one specific thing.  Just better in general.  Brad didn’t respond but every once in a while, a small smile would crack through.

“Well, it’s getting late so I think I should actually get going.”, David said, standing up and started walking out the door.  Just before he left, Brad spoke.

“Thank you...for staying and all.”  He, once again, wasn’t making eye contact.

“Of course, man.  It’s no big deal!”  There was a pause before Brad spoke again.

“They want me to do an inpatient program.”

“Oh?  For…”  David trailed off.

“Yah…”  Brad started fidgeting with the corner of the blanket on the bed.  “I don’t know what to do.  Whether I should go or not.”

“Well, I’d say you should do what you think would benefit you best.”, said David, taking a couple steps towards him.  Brad was silent.

“...Thanks, David.”

David gave a small wave as he walked out the door.  Brad sat there awake for a while, unable to sleep.  He sat there, listening to the sounds of the hospital through the door.  A woman, presumably a nurse, poked her head in the room.  “Would you like to order dinner?”  Brad shook his head and the nurse left.  He then spotted the gift bag that David had brought.  He picked it up and removed the tissue paper stuffed in at the top.  Inside there was a pig plush and a card.  The plushy was adorable and very soft.  He pet the pig plush, enjoying the soothing texture, before placing it in his lap and moving onto the card.  It was your typical get better soon card.  On the inside, there were either signatures or little get well messages from everyone.  It seemed like the pig plush was Jo’s idea.  Brad leaned over and placed the card on the side table next to his bed.  He looked at it for a minute before grabbing the pig, getting under the covers and falling asleep.

[g0ldengubler]

chapter one~one wild night

(*gif made by recsbylotte*)

A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter is so long, but I had to get everything down, I was having too much fun with this concept. Also, please give a listen to the song Nauseous here so you get the full idea of where this story will go and if you like the song, check out Zubin's other songs as well! Highly suggest the song "Backseat" which also has Fantasy Camp! Ok, enjoy :)

Category: Smut

CW: light-ish smut, fingering, alcohol, weed (please smoke responsibly!)

Word Count: 3985

before you read | next chapter

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

"Great job everyone!" said Aaron Hotchner to his team.

Everyone in the BAU team gave a small round of applause on their jet, but yours was a bit louder than the rest. This was your first case and you worked so hard to solve it with the team to prove that you deserve to be with them. You wanted this job since you were a little girl. Jason Gideon was holding a class on the basics of profiling with his partner, David Rossi, and you and your dad went because you both loved watching 80's crime and law shows like "Murder, She Wrote" and "Matlock", and from the way your eyes would be glued to the tv, he knew that you wanted to be someone like Jessica Fletcher and her friends at Cabot Cove.

At one point, Gideon asked a question and you answered it right away, which took both of them back a bit, including your dad and everyone else in the room. A ten year old girl, understanding what was being said and not getting scared of the pictures that were shown. You were sure some of them thought of you crazy, but your dad was proud.

After the class, THE Jason Gideon and THE David Rossi came up to the two of you to talk. You were totally fangirling a bit because the two people you looked up to wanted to say how shocked but also kind of happy that someone so young was fascinated with this subject. Rossi told you several years later when you went to one of his book signings, that once you were old enough to give him a call and he'd set some things up to get you into the academy, and that's exactly what happened when you turned 21.

Because of your love of solving crime, you worked hard in school. So much so you were one of the top students. College was no different, and Rossi seemed to notice. He kept tabs on you from time to time to see how you were doing after you emailed him about doing well in high school and your first year of college. During your second year, Rossi asked if you could come to the BAU and talk with him and his coworker, Aaron, who was the team leader. They both agreed that you were incredible in your studies and saw a lot of potential in you. Your dream was starting to come true after accepting their invitation to the academy, and you could feel butterflies in your stomach.

Now you were 25, and Hotch had officially welcomed you to the team. As the ride back continued, you remembered how your first day went, even though it was only a few days ago. You met the team, and right away, you befriended the only one closer to your age, Dr.Spencer Reid. You remembered seeing his long hair and cardigan kind of melting together as he sat down at the round table and gave you a small wave. You didn't have many friends growing up, but he reminded you of your only friend back home, but that almost brought you to tears straight away, making you snap out of your daydreams.

You get up to have a glass of water. As your pouring, someone scares you from behind.

"Hey, Y/N!" A man's voice said.

You jumped which made you spill some water all over the place. "Spencer!"

"I am so sorry!" He chuckles as you both grabbed some paper towel to clean the counter, laughing at the incident.

You both go back to your seats, which were right next to each other on the couch. After meeting Spencer on your first day, Rossi told you that you two would get along perfectly. And you did. It made you feel comfortable right away and you pulling a...well, you, you were stuck to him like glue as a safety net. You used to think it was something every newbie did on their first day; try to find someone who you click with and stick with them until you got the ropes. Apparently, that was something people found annoying, and had you fired the first two jobs you got. With Spencer, however, he didn't mind it, which made you feel unsure but happy at the same time.

You and Spencer talked about the similarities you had and laughed at all the nerdy jokes you were making. At one point, another member of the team, Derek Morgan, had to throw a pillow at Spencer because he was laughing so loud and he was trying to sleep, which made even Hotch (who you guessed never even cracked a smile before) laugh a little bit.

"Boys, behave," Jj joked, not even looking up, "Or daddy's going to send you to your rooms when we get home."

"Ok, pLEASE don't say "daddy" ever again unless your at home." said Emily Prentiss, which made everyone laugh even harder.

You could tell that this team was more than just coworkers getting the job done, they were a family. And YOU were invited into this family. This was a feeling you always wanted: friends acting like a family.

30 Minutes Later

Finally you were back at the BAU. The case was stressful, and the flight back kinda made you tired, but your excitement and happiness were taking over rapidly. You usually fought those feelings because you felt emotions differently than others, and it always annoyed the people around you. Tonight was different, so you cut yourself some slack for once.

As you head back to your desks, Hotch spoke. "You guys deserve a break after that case. The heads of the BAU are giving us one month off. Get some rest and enjoy your vacation. Garcia invited us all to her place to celebrate but sadly Rossi and I are going to have to pass tonight. Jack has a big game tomorrow and I don't think the parents would be too pleased if their kid's coaches were hungover."

On cue, Penelope Garcia runs in with her bags. "Oh we're gonna have fun-to-night!"

"What exactly are we doing?" asked Emily.

"It's a surprise silly, but yes there will be alcohol of course." She then turns to you, walking up to go to elevator arm in arm.

"Y/N," she says, rambling to you how the team usually celebrates and what the plan was as you make your way to the elevator, "ok usually we'd go to our favorite restaurant or club or go to rossi's when we can but tonight I really want to celebrate the success on your first case!"

"Aww, Garcia!" you said as Morgan pressed the button, "Your so sweet. Thank you guys, seriously."

"Trust me, Y/N, this night is going to be one of the best nights ever!"

At Garcia’s Morgan sets the alcohol on the counter as everyone settles in. You sit on the couch with Spencer and Emily, getting a good look of Garcia's apartment. Purple walls with shiny (plastic) jewl's, cat toys filled most of the corners. Just as you saw the toys, a black cat jumps onto your lap making you jump a little.

"Aww, Sergio!" said Emily, "Thank you again Garcia for watching him for me while I go on cases."

"Are you kidding me? He's become a lovely roommate at the Garcia Gardens!" says Garcia as she brings over some bottles and glasses. She sets them down and begins to pour the Vodka shots.

"Garcia 'Gardens"? Jj asked.

"They both have G's, I don't know it seemed to work." They both laugh.

Morgan helps Garcia pass out the shots, getting ready for a toast. Everyone stands up, holding theirs shots a few inches away from their face.

"I would like to make a toast," said Garcia, "not just for the success of this case and because we have a month off, but to Y/N. She has done wonders this week, and I am so happy and grateful that you are now apart of our little family. To Y/N!"

"To Y/N!" Everyone cheered as they clinked their shot glasses.

You thought you were about to cry. You've never felt this much love in a room ever.

Everyone took their shots and sat back down. You look over at Spencer and laugh at the face he makes.

"God, I usually don't drink Vodka but that was an experience." he says.

"Oh c'mon," you said, "already gonna pussy out?"

"Now those were fighting words, Pretty Boy!" Morgan chuckled.

"Is that a challenge?" Spencer asks.

"Ok, I'm taking the shot glasses away because I know Spencer can get competitive and I don't want you to get sick." Garcia grabs the glasses from everyone's hand and walks to the kitchen, everyone giving a little whine about it.

"So what was that surprise you had for us?" you ask Garcia.

She walks in her room to grab something and came back with it behind her back.

"Before I say anything," she began, "I'm not forcing anyone to do anything they don't want to do and if no one wants to it's not a big deal."

Garcia takes her hands from behind her back to show what looked like vape pens. "Nicotine?" Emily asked.

"Noooo nonono," said Garcia, "That stuff is not good for anyone. They're weed...pens..." Garcia got quiet. You could understand why she got nervous, who knew if this would happen or not.

"Baby girl," said Morgan, "You are the last person I'd think of for this."

"Her parents were hippies, Morgan!" says Emily.

"Good point." He said.

"But now the question is, how?" you said.

"Well yeah, my parents were hippies. Both of my parents did before they got pregnant with me, but my dad would smoke when I was a kid. He would always do it before bed so he could actually fall asleep. He had horrible insomnia which he gave to me. A couple of months back, I couldn't sleep for the life of me. Nothing was wrong either for it to happen, but nothing could get me to fall asleep or if it did I acted the next day like I got up on the wrong side of the bed. So, I went to a doctor and got my green card and I've had peaceful nights of rest since. I thought, since we don't have to go into work for awhile, why not have some fun for one night?"

Everyone looked at each other, unsure but also kind of wanting to.

"This wouldn't be a problem with work, right?" asked Jj.

"Oh god, no, if we only do it tonight it'd be out of our system by then." said Reid.

Everyone was shocked hearing that coming from his mouth. "What? I had to do a research paper on the study of cannabis use in college."

You wanted to be the first to agree, but then you worried that it would be a bad look on you, the newbie.

"I'll give it a shot," said Emily, "It's only for one night and we have a lot more time off than we usually get, why the hell not?"

Slowly, everyone else agreed, including Spencer, who no one in the room thought in a million years he would. Garcia passes out the pens to everyone and told them how to use it. She said if we liked it, we could keep them for only certain situations where you absolutely needed it.

We all start taking 3 hits, which was the amount she said to take first. She explained how one time she took too many hits at once and greened out really bad.

Garcia turns on some music and we all sit around, drinking the very special drinks she made for us. The girls had vodka cocktails while the guys had whiskey. After a few minutes, you can start feeling it. Your body begins to tingle and your eyes started feeling heavy.

"How ya feeling, kid?" Morgan asks after several minutes. Spencer just sat there, looking at the ice cubes in his drink.

"Honestly, I've never felt this before. I don't know what I feel but it's nothing bad."

You giggle at his answer. It wasn't funny, and you knew that. Maybe you were giggling because seeing Spencer high was adorable.

"Ope, we have a giggler!" said Emily, but your giggling made everyone else giggle with you.

"Boy genius, you are too adorable!" said Garcia, who was sitting on Morgan's lap, her head on his shoulder.

You take more hits as the night goes on. At one point you had to stop because you were really baked. You've smoked before, so you knew your limit. You look over at Spencer again, but this time he was really sinked in the couch, looking up at the ceiling. What could that big brain be thinking in that now empty skull?

You were about to ask him but Garcia got up and grabbed an empty vodka bottle. "Who wants to play truth or dare?"

Everyone said they were in, except for Jj, who was already passed out in her chair.

"Damn, gone already?" Spencer says.

"You owe me five bucks tomorrow, Y/N" said Morgan. Earlier, you bet Morgan that Jj would stay up because he said she wouldn't. She tried her hardest, but sadly Morgan won. You move your head to Spencer's lap. You felt very cuddly for some reason, and Spencer was right next to you. He flinched a little, but then after a minute he started playing with your hair.

Garcia puts the empty bottle on the table and spins it. It lands on Emily. "Truth." she says.

"Have you ever made out with a girl?" asked Garcia.

"Are you kidding? Of course I have," she got quiet then murmured, "And I loved it."

"I knew it!" said Garcia.

Emily spins and it lands on Morgan. "Dare."

"I dare you to give Garcia a kiss! No making out, just a peck on the lips."

It happened, their banter had finally caught up with them. Derek and Penelope go in for the peck and once so they blushed.

Spencer was still playing with his hair. You looked up at him and saw something in his eye. Not literally, but there was something going on in his head. His eyes sparkled underneath the apartment lights. His mind must've been running all over the place thinking of something trippy, or maybe he suddenly wasn't thinking at all, letting his mind wonder to thoughts he never thought of before. The bottle was rarely spun to either of you, so you decided to talk softly.

"What are you thinking about, Spence?" you ask.

"I'm thinking about everything and nothing at once," he said, "It's hard to explain, like I'm thinking of things I wouldn't normally. Or at least not on a daily basis."

"What is tha-"

"Y/N! Truth or Dare?" said Garcia

"Umm...dare." you slurred. Were you really that fucked up right now?

Garcia thought for a moment, then as she looked at the two of you, a light bulb lit up in her head. "I dare you to take Spencer to my room, shut the door, and make out for 10 minutes!"

"10?!"

"What, are we still in high school?" you ask sarcastically.

"Be glad I didn't suggest 7 minutes in heaven. Poor boy is just so innocent!"

"Can you even get up, Pretty Boy?" Morgan asks as you lift your head from his lap and start to get up.

Spencer takes another vodka shot and a few more hits of his pen before getting up. After gaining his balance back, you take his hand and walk him to the bedroom. He shuts the door behind him and goes to lay on the bed. Arms stretched out on either side of him, he went back to staring at the ceiling.

"Wanna tell me what you're thinking about now?" you asked.

He said nothing. You then lay next to him, doing exactly what he was doing. Garcia had put glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling. They looked brighter than they would've have been to you. Your blurry vision made your tingles more intense as the lights played with your eyes. It was almost really trippy, but you felt so good.

"I've never felt like this before and usually we put people away because of weed, but for some reason, I feel at peace with everything.

"I'm sure if you got your green card, Hotch would be more understanding towards it. If not, Penelope would've been kicked off the team."

He placed his hand softly on your thigh. Spencer, you thought to yourself, she didn't say it was 7 minutes in heaven.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," you said, "We can just ramble about anything and tell them we did."

He then gets on top of you, holding your wrists down to the bed. "No, I want to. Unless you don't want to, but this is what I've been thinking about when I was playing with your hair."

You nod your head. You knew what he meant because you were thinking the exact same thing at that same time. When you met him, you didn't think of him in that way. But once everything kicked in that night, you felt yourself slipping into that 'what if'. You thought he was cute when he was giggling at you, and the way his fingers were in your hair, it was like you'd known each other for years.

Spencer's lips were quickly on yours. It felt like heaven, like he had done this before. You kiss him back, indulging in the sweet bliss. It was your time to return the favor, as you run your fingers through his hair. You were into guys with long hair, and Spencer seemed to fit the bill. But in no way were you catching feelings for him. He'll probably not remember this night at all, so why get your hopes up when he's doing this for the dare.

Suddenly, you felt his right grip let go of your wrist and slowly began to go down your body. It made you feel heat from the bottom of your stomach. You haven't felt like this in a long time, needing for someone's touch. You felt ready though, ready for that feeling again. The feeling of letting go and go forward in lust. He stopped, however, letting you know that he was asking if you wanted to continue without breaking away from your lips. You nod and a small quiet moan left your muffled lips, letting him know it was ok.

His hand continued to go down your body, feeling every curve he could. His fingers gently graced your tits and it sent shivers up your spine. Soon enough, you felt his fingers lightly rub the fabric that stood between him and your slit. His touch was so feather like you thought he was teasing you just to get you all worked up.

"I've hardly done anything to you and you're already so wet for me." He said through the kiss. You were shocked how his tone changed from sweet and innocent to dark and low. It kind of turned you on. Somehow, you went from being dared to just make out to what felt like was going into 7 minutes in heaven, except not in a closet.

He then continued to rub the fabric is circles as he broke the kiss. With the moon being your only source of light, you see the hunger in his eyes. He wants you and he wants you bad. He smiles as he moves the fabric over to the side and sticks his middle finger inside you, making you gasp at the entrance. His grin grew bigger as he really felt how wet you really were.

He sticks another finger in there and you let out a moan that you were trying to be soft about, but you were louder than you wanted to be. Spencer quickly covered your mouth with his hand, continuing to pleasure you. "Be quiet, angel," He whispered in your ear, "You don't want the others to know what we're doing, do you?" You shook your head. "Good girl, now tell me when you're close. I want you to cum all over my fingers."

You never thought of Spencer as the dominate type. He seemed so to himself and sweet. You thought he'd be more submissive. Maybe it was his cross faded brain talking, but this side of Spencer made you want more of him. You wanted so much more than his fingers. Your thoughts clouded you as you were reaching your climax.

"Spencer I'm close. I'm so close!" You quietly moaned.

"Hold it, angel. I want you to beg for me."

You couldn't hold it in anymore. "Please let me cum, PLEASE!" You begged.

"Cum for me, angel."

At that, you felt your whole body tense up and almost screamed at the pleasure, but knew to just whisper it and breathe heavily. He laughed with a bit of a growl, feeling you on all over his fingers. He was enjoying this, and you could tell by the tent in his pants. You wondered if you were going to help him out with that as your breathing began to go back to it's normal pattern. He gets off of you as the timer went off, and he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tasting yourself.

"Ok lovebirds, time's up!" you heard Morgan say.

You sit up from the bed as Spencer sat next to you. "We'll be right out!" You said, "Holy shit, Spence. I didn't think you had this side to you."

"Everyone does," he said, "I know I pull off this small and meak kind of person, but they don't know what I think about when I'm at home. Even sometimes at work when I'm stressed on a case. I'll just give myself a breather and let my mind wonder. I even-"

He stopped himself in his tracks, taking back what he was originally going to say. He stood up, pulling you up with him. Your faces were then really close together. "Now, tonight I won't have you touch me. We'll save that for another day ok?" You nod again. "What are you going to do about 'that'?" Pointing to the tent.

"I'm gonna take care of it in the bathroom. Now, we don't tell anyone about this. Especially Garcia."

"Yeah, it'd be a bit weird if she found out that you fingered me on her bed."

"Well that, and the fact that she can't keep a secret to herself for the life of her."

"Good to know." you said.

You did as planned and walked out, going your different ways. You headed back to the living room and joined the rest of your coworkers. You sat there and took more hits and more shots, hoping to pass out. You couldn't help but want to let your thoughts wonder on its own.

[night-owl-2000]

Lilith Clawthorne X Reader: A Fool's Wisdom Teeth

Author’s Note: This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written. I never thought in a million years I’d be writing one but here we are lol. The title was the hardest thing to come up with. My wisdom teeth are coming in and giving me pain so I got the idea to write this and it made me feel better. I’m probably still not gonna have mine taken out since I don’t seem to want to listen to my own logic and reasoning lol. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy it! 

         “Ow…” you whined from the kitchen as you tried to enjoy your favorite snack. Your wisdom teeth were growing in and one specifically was causing you pain. You gently rubbed the right side of your jaw and decided to put the snack away, sighing and accepting defeat. “Wisdom teeth suck” you stated, sounding moderately annoyed as you walked into your living room. “If they’re causing you so much pain, why don’t you get them removed? If I remember correctly, you said that wisdom teeth are not necessary for anything” suggested a calming voice from the couch. As you sat down, you looked over at Lilith. “The only reason I’m not getting them removed is because I don’t want to deal with the pain from recovery. Besides, I’d also be loopy from the medication and the last thing I need to do is make a fool of myself” you answered with a chuckle.

         This wasn’t your first experience with pain from your wisdom teeth. About a year ago you felt the same pain you were currently feeling on the left side of your jaw. You had gone to a dentist about it and he had explained that the pain was normal but that there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. That’s also when you found out you were one of the lucky few who didn’t need to have their wisdom teeth removed since yours were coming in straight and your jaw was big enough to house them. You were relieved to hear that and giggled because your father, who had taken you to the appointment, was jealous since he had to have his wisdom teeth cut out. You had told that story to Lilith once during one of your many walks together. That story still made you giggle at times.

         Returning to the present, you blushed slightly as a gentle kiss was placed on your cheek. “Dearest, you don’t need to worry about making a fool of yourself. I highly doubt anyone would seriously judge you for what you say or do while under the influence of medication following such a procedure” Lilith reassured you with a warm smile. “I know, making a fool of myself is the least of my worries. I’m more afraid of the pain. It would be much worse than this” you replied. You were stubborn. No matter how much pain you were in, you were not going to have those extra four teeth removed and you were certain no one could convince you to do so.

        Unfortunately for you, the tooth currently giving you pain made contact with the tooth growing in directly above it as you finished speaking, causing you more pain. This did not go unnoticed by Lilith, who sighed and shook her head. She knew how stubborn you were. She was just as stubborn though and hated seeing you in pain, whether it be emotionally or physically. She was determined to convince you to get your wisdom teeth taken out.

        “Dearest, I know you are afraid of the pain you’ll feel during recovery but think about it. If you get those teeth removed, you only have to suffer through one round of intense pain. This is your second time dealing with pain from those extra teeth. Based on what you’ve told me, you gain nothing from keeping them. Do you really want to go through this pain two more times and gain nothing in the end rather than go through one intense round of pain then be free?” Lilith asked as she looked at you. You could see the concern in her eyes. The thought of going through this same pain two more times certainly wasn’t a pleasant one. You gave the idea some thought, admitting to yourself that you’d be in pain either way, but you were still hesitant to change your mind. Seeing that you were thinking about what she said, Lilith spoke again. “Y/N, I hate to see you in pain like this. At least if you get your wisdom teeth removed, you won’t have to worry about them causing you pain ever again. I’ll stay with you throughout your recovery. All I’ll need to do is gather a few things in a suitcase to bring here. How does that sound?” she asked as she gently placed a hand on one of your shoulders. You took a little longer to think as you looked at her. She had a small, hopeful smile as she looked at you. Her eyes met yours and in them you could still see a hint of concern mixed with reassurance. You smiled a little bit and took a deep breath, having made your decision.

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           Today was the big day; the day you were going to have your wisdom teeth removed. After finally agreeing to get them removed following your conversation with Lilith one week ago, you scheduled your appointment for the earliest possible date. Staying true to her word, Lilith had come over the previous evening with a suitcase of her belongings in preparation for her stay with you. Seeing as you still lived with your family and there were no guest rooms in your home, Lilith would be sharing a room with you during her stay. This was not an issue for you two though. She had stayed overnight a good handful of times before and even had a small dresser and a few hangers of her own in your closet. Likewise, you had your own dresser in the closet of her room back at the Owl House for whenever you stayed over.

         As your father drove you to your appointment with your sibling sitting in the front, you sat in the backseat with Lilith trying to stay calm. You were incredibly nervous about the whole thing and for good reason. After all, who wouldn’t be nervous in this situation? Seeing how nervous you were, Lilith did her best to help you calm down. “Did I already tell you about how Edalyn teased me as I was packing my things?” Lilith asked. You nodded and answered “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind hearing about it again though.” With that said, Lilith began telling you about how Eda had laughed and asked her if she was finally moving in with you. After the inevitable teasing from Eda, her and the rest of the Owl Fam, as you had taken to calling them, passed on their messages to her wishing you good luck and a speedy recovery. The story succeeded in calming you down and distracted you for the rest of the ride.

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          The procedure to remove your wisdom teeth was finally over. You had been knocked out for the whole thing but for those that were awake waiting, it felt like the procedure was taking forever. Everything had gone smoothly as expected and you were cleared to go home and rest. Also as expected, you were still under the influence of the medication that was used on you. Lilith helped you get into the backseat of the car for the ride home so you wouldn’t fall in and possibly hurt yourself.

         On the ride home, things went well. Your father had the radio on playing some great metal music and the windows were partially open, allowing some fresh spring air to circulate throughout the inside of the car. Your sibling, who was sitting in the front, occasionally responded to the things you said. For most of the ride, you had your head resting on Lilith’s shoulder as you went on about various topics. Of course, you didn’t make much sense as you spoke but that didn’t stop you. Lilith had one arm wrapped around your shoulders as she listened to you go on about whatever came to mind.

         “Lily?” you said as you looked up at Lilith, your eyes meeting hers. “Yes, Darling?” she answered. “Why are you always so pretty?” Lilith blushed lightly and giggled as she thought of an answer to your question. In the front passenger seat and the driver’s seat, your father and sibling chuckled and your sibling rolled their eyes, making a mental note to tease you about this later. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer. I am flattered though that you think I’m pretty all the time. Thank you” was Lilith’s answer. You offered a quiet hum in response.

        A brief moment of silence passed before you spoke again. “I wanna marry you” you said with a dopey smile. That sentence caught everyone off guard. Your sibling couldn’t help but to burst out laughing and your father was trying to stifle his own laughter. Lilith had gone from lightly blushing to being as red as a tomato the moment that sentence left your mouth. She looked exactly like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding truck. You two had known each other for a little more than a year at that point and had been together for about 9 months. It was in this moment that Lilith was the most flustered she had ever been. She had to take a moment to think and compose herself before responding.

        “I…we can get married after you recover” was her response. It took everything in Lilith to provide that response without turning into a flustered mess. The thought of marrying you was one that had only briefly crossed her mind a couple of times in the last month or so. The time she took to think and compose herself was the most time so far she had spent thinking about it. For a short time following her response, she imagined what the big day would be like. She imagined it would take place on a warm and sunny day, mixing together elements from witch wedding ceremonies and human wedding ceremonies to have a wedding like no other. What a wonderful day it would be, a day of celebration with family and friends from both realms. You cheering brought her out of her daydream.

       “Hell yeah! I get the best wife in existence!” you cheered with a giggle. Your father and sibling were still laughing in the front of the car, almost unable to stop. As the laughter from the front died down and you settled down, Lilith buried her face in her hands. She was still as red as a tomato. Thank Titan Eda wasn’t there or she’d never hear the end of it. A little while later the car was parked, signaling that you were finally home. Lilith helped you out of the car and upstairs to your room so you could rest. Once you were tucked in, you were out like a light. You didn’t find out about what you said until after you woke up a few hours later. You knew from that moment on you’d never hear the end of it from your family, especially your sibling.