#anyways this is the last flashback ch i SWEAR

[acescorazon]

Title: Changes

Chapter: 13

Rating: M

Word count: 3614

Warnings: Crocodile and Mihawk are being dicks, ANOTHER damn flashback, language, minor violence.

Chapter Excerpt:

It's been blatantly obvious from the start that Mihawk and Crocodile want nothing to do with him. He doesn't know why he even tried fixing their relationship, they were never going to be three people who got along.

This isn't the Oro Jackson and he's not dealing with someone like Shanks, nor is he dealing with a random stranger or even a member of his own crew. He should have realized all his efforts would go in vain and that Crocodile and Mihawk came to the island with a deep-seated hatred and lack of respect for him embedded in them already. Whatever, it's fine. Buggy's not mad or upset or even disappointed. He's completely fine.

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|Ch5|Ch6|Ch7|Ch8|Ch9|Ch10|Ch11|Ch12||

At this point, Buggy is unsure of what he can do to improve his relationship with Mihawk and Crocodile. He's tried throwing them a dinner, but that didn't work. He's also tried giving them gifts, but that was another failure and it turns out they're a lot more difficult to please than Buggy thought they'd be. He's at a loss and is unsure what to do at this point to make his two new 'subordinates' like him.

Perhaps his best option is to just be direct and try to talk to them, even though every time Buggy tries to speak to them or do something nice for them, they just push him away or reject him. He can't just leave his relationship with Crocodile and Mihawk as it is though, that'd never work and surely it'd grow tiresome sooner or later.

Buggy decides to make his move the next time Cross Guild has a meeting. He waits patiently for Crocodile to finish going over all his plans as well as announce any progress the newly formed group has already made, remaining silent the entire time so he doesn't annoy Crocodile any. After Crocodile wraps everything up, Buggy quickly clears his throat and speaks up before Mihawk or Crocodile can leave, "Uh," he mutters, his voice trembling slightly, "Can I talk to you guys about something?"

At the sound of his request, Mihawk and Crocodile turn towards Buggy and narrow their eyes at him, giving him a judgmental look. Neither of the two say anything but the look they have on their faces says it all: 'What now, clown?'

Buggy chuckles and finds himself growing uneasy by the other two's hardened glares. He shifts in his spot slightly before continuing,  "So, uh... look, guys. I'm just going to come out and say it. I know you're probably thinking I'm being so annoying by constantly trying to be you guy's friend but I want you to know I'm really trying my best here!" He states and afterwards he tries to read Mihawk and Crocodile’s expressions, but there's not much he can decipher about their mood.

They look as irritated as usual.

"I don't want to fight with you guys all the time or have you guys hate me or anything like that!" Buggy explains, "Look, everything has pretty much been out of my control. I don't know why everyone thinks I'm the boss or whatever, but I never wanted that spotlight and I still don't. What I really want is for us all to get along and for Cross Guild to be successful!"

Mihawk and Crocodile continue to stare Buggy down, but they're silent. No bitter insults, no rejections, no fighting. Just silence. The two don't even leave the room immediately or tell Buggy to go away. Perhaps this is them willing to finally give Buggy a chance?  "I'll just go ahead and say I'm sorry if I've made you two mad or offended you in the past. I promise I can change and that I can be someone useful to you, so... Uh, can we maybe give being friends a chance?" He asks, giving them both a sheepish grin.

There's a long pause after Buggy finishes speaking, and with every passing second, he can feel his anxiety growing in his body.  This is the first time that he's actually been listened to by either men, and this really feels like his one and only chance to make things right.

The three of them don't even have to be best friends, Buggy just doesn't want to be constantly threatened or beaten up, but if they could develop a close relationship that would be perfect because Buggy realizes with his newfound status as emperor of the sea he needs all the allies he can get. "Uh, what do you guys think?" Buggy asks when Mihawk and Crocodile fail to answer him.

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Crocodile asks and then afterwards he begins to laugh. His loud, mocking laughter booms throughout the meeting room and Buggy's ears, "I already told you this, but I guess you forgot. I don't need no friends, especially useless ones like you." He tells Buggy, and it's like a stab to the chest. "How would being friends with you benefit me? You're penniless and weak, and you can't do even the simplest task. The only thing that you have going for you is your status as an emperor, but to tell you the truth, I don't care about that."  

Buggy's face begins to heat up and he wants to argue. He wants to tell Crocodile that he definitely isn't a useless clown like he's always saying he is. Buggy has done so much in his lifetime and yet everyone always underestimates and belittles him. Buggy isn't weak and useless, there are people out there who actually fear and or admire him. 

"Your title really is just for show," Crocodile chuckles, "You're nothing compared to Red-Haired Shanks or Blackbeard. Hell, you're not even on the same level as that brat with the straw hat."

Being compared to the other emperors of the sea makes Buggy want to scream. Okay, but... He's at a loss for words. His pride is telling him to fight back and not let Crocodile put him down like this, but another part of him is saying that Crocodile’s right.

No, no, that's not right. Buggy's accomplished too. He traveled the Grandline as a child, he studied under dark king Rayleigh... He took over Orange Town... he... he almost executed Monkey D. Luffy, the same Monkey D. Luffy Crocodile is comparing him to, in Loguetown... He.... He was in the war...(not that he fought in it.)... He started Buggy's delivery service... He...

Maybe he didn't defeat a previous emperor for their spot and maybe he's not always causing a stir like the other three are, but... Buggy’s done things too, and it's not fair to compare him to the other three...even if his status does seem more or less like a fluke sometimes.

Buggy bites his bottom lip, "You haven't given me a chance to prove myself," he says, but for some reason, he doesn't deny Crocodile’s previous statements...maybe he is right. "I've purposely been lying low and doing my own thing. I-"

Crocodile cuts him off, "Bullshit. You haven't been lying low, you just can't do anything. You're useless both as a leader and as a potential friend. In fact, the only reason why I haven't snapped your neck is because Hawkeye here thinks you're a good little distraction." He snorts, "But the government hasn't tried to attack us yet, so who knows? Maybe you can't even keep a few measly Marines distracted."

Buggy takes a deep breath and tries to remain calm. He should have realized trying to be Crocodile's friend was pointless. He’s such a cruel, foul mouthed man who cares about nobody but himself. He doesn't want a loving supportive friend, he wants someone he can boss around and use for his schemes. If you don't prove your worth to him, you're useless...

Crocodile’s thought process goes against everything Gol D. Roger taught Buggy to believe in. Buggy’s former captain always told him that a friend is someone you should love, appreciate, and support unconditionally. Our friends may not be related to us by blood, but they’re just as important as family and should be cherished as such because life is so short. A friend is someone who you can depend on and won’t judge you or leave you behind during your toughest battles. It doesn’t matter how rich, smart, or powerful your friends are, what’s important is their heart and character.

Eh… Now that he thinks about it, his beloved former captain was always a bit cheesy and sentimental, but that’s besides the point. Buggy wouldn’t treat Crocodile as if he were just some pawn in a scheme or some glorified bodyguard. He doesn’t need Crocodile to prove his worth (but it certainly isn’t bad that he’s a well-known and very powerful pirate), and Crocodile shouldn’t need Buggy to prove his worth either, that’s not how a genuine friendship works. Whatever, though. Buggy’s over trying to be friends with that self centered prick.

Buggy forces himself to look away from Crocodile and turns to Mihawk. He swallows hard, "...Hawkeye," he calls out in a small voice, and, oh, how he hates how vulnerable he sounds right now. "You don't feel the same way, do you?" He asks, clinging onto hope that Mihawk really is the lesser of two evils.

Mihawk remains quiet for another painfully long moment before finally speaking up for the first time since their meeting ended, "More or less." He says in a cold, blunt voice. Oh, of course he feels the same way as Crocodile, Buggy thinks bitterly. "I won't waste my breath belittling you, but I don't need any friends either." Ah, that's Dracule Mihawk for you, he's always so cruel and direct.

"Okay, we don't have to be friends." Buggy states, looking between both of his fellow members of Cross Guild, "But could we at least treat each other with respect?!" He begs, more than willing to settle at this point.

The laugh that Crocodile lets out when Buggy asks him to do something as simple as give him a little respect is disheartening to say the least. "You actually think I'd respect a gutless coward like you?" He mocks.

"I..."

"Get fucking real!"

"I...I…" is all Buggy manages to stammer out because he feels more embarrassed than before. Crocodile treats him like he's nothing but a tacky, piece of gum here for him to chew up and spit out when he's ready. 

Somehow Mihawk's reaction is the same as Crocodile’s but different. He raises an eyebrow at Buggy, and if Buggy had to guess he'd say Mihawk's probably thinking something along the lines of: 'ME? Respect you? Respect is something you earn, and you definitely haven't earned my respect.'

"Forget it." Buggy mutters, "I'm just going to get back to work." He tells the other two men before lowering his head and rushing out of the meeting room. As he leaves he can hear Crocodile continue to mock him: "Did you hear that shit, Hawkeye?!"

Okay, Fuck them. Fuck Cross Guild. Fuck Buggy too for being so stupid and for even trying to be on good terms with Mihawk and Crocodile. It's been blatantly obvious from the start that Mihawk and Crocodile want nothing to do with him. He doesn't know why he even tried fixing their relationship, they were never going to be three people who got along.

This isn't the Oro Jackson and he's not dealing with someone like Shanks, nor is he dealing with a random stranger or even a member of his own crew. He should have realized all his efforts would go in vain and that Crocodile and Mihawk came to the island with a deep-seated hatred and lack of respect for Buggy embedded in them already. Whatever, it's fine. Buggy's not mad or upset or even disappointed. He's completely fine.

Why would the great and mighty Captain Buggy The Clown let two assholes like Mihawk and Crocodile determine his worth? Why would he let them get to him? He hasn't, he's fine. He's totally fine and he doesn't care what happens moving on. He'll just try his best to coexist with Mihawk and Crocodile and try not to get on their bad sides or whatever.

He says that he wants to live peacefully among Crocodile and Mihawk, and yet he does the one thing he probably shouldn't. He finds someone to angrily vent to, Cabaji and Mohji always listen to him without judging him and they always offer up the upmost support and advice, but Buggy doesn't need advice. He just needs to rant, and so maybe that's why as soon as he sees his two most trusted crew-mates, he disregards his current location and begins to air all of his grievances about both Mihawk and Crocodile.  

Buggy's mouth runs a mile a minute as insults, complaints, and anything you can think of come flying from between his painted lips. He tells the two other men how frustrated he is that Crocodile and Mihawk just can't play nice, and how they think they're the boss of him and can push him around. He tells them that they're both so stuck up and rude that it's unbelievable and that he's never met two people as insufferable as Mihawk and Crocodile. "I really tried!" He complains, throwing his hands up.

At this point his face is beet red and he's more furious than he'd like to be. "But nothing I do makes them happy!" He tells Mohji and Cabaji for what has to be the hundredth time. The two try and calm Buggy down but at this point he's a lost cause. "Can you believe they're acting this way? And for what reason? Because the world government made me an emperor and not them? Because they're stuck in some shitty organization with me? I didn't ask for any of this!" He tells them as his voice continues to steadily rise.

"But whatever. I don't care." Buggy laughs bitterly.

"Capt-"

"No, seriously I don't give a fuck anymore! I'm done trying to be nice to those two assholes. They said they don’t do friends, but is that the real truth? Do they not have friends because they don’t trust anyone and they’re too stuck up, or is it because they're both two insufferable assholes who no one wants to be friends with in the first place? I mean, really, who’d want to be their fucking friend? They’re two extremely bitter old men who can’t hold a conversation let al-"

"Captain Buggy..." Mohji calls out in a shaky voice, but Buggy continues to rant and rave about how much he hates the situation he's in. He hates that the world government takes him seriously and considers him to be a big enough threat to be an emperor of the sea, but that Mihawk and Crocodile think he's some weak, small time pirate. He was fine being just an errand boy before but now he's genuinely frustrated that Mihawk and Crocodile see him as beneath them and won’t treat him as an equal. "What gives those assholes the right?!"

"C..Captain..." Cabaji and Mohji stammer out at the same time. There's an intense look of fear on both of their faces that Buggy failed to realize before. He stops his rant long enough to give them both a confused look, "...What?" He asks, and when his two crew-mates gesture to something behind him with their heads, Buggy realizes just how badly he fucked up in an instant.

Buggy inhales a deep, shaky breath. Please tell me they aren't standing behind me. He thinks, about ten seconds away from pleading with the universe to just cut him some slack for once in his miserable life. Of course, though, Buggy has nothing but worst luck. In fact if he didn't have the most vile, atrocious luck imaginable, he probably wouldn't have any luck at all.

Buggy slowly looks over his shoulder and his stomach drops. He really has no luck at all, but perhaps this has nothing to do with luck and everything to do with the fact that Buggy foolishly trash talked Mihawk and Crocodile as soon as he got the chance to and in public.

Mihawk is the first to speak, "No, don't let us interrupt you. We want to hear more of what you have to say, Buggy The Clown." He tells him in an eerily calm voice, "By all means. Please elaborate why you think that we're insufferable and stuck up some more."

Buggy doesn't even know what he should say at this point. He laughs nervously, "Hawkeye....Crocodile...when did you two get here?" He asks, feeling like he's seconds away from hurling. Actually now that he thinks about it, maybe it's better if he doesn't know when Crocodile and Mihawk came and how much they heard.

Buggy realizes he's in deep shit, but he still takes a step back and raises his arms up in the air, "Oh, you know I didn't mean any of that stuff, you guys. I'm a clown, remember?" He laughs but no one laughs with him, "I like to joke around! I didn't really mean all those things, I was just joking..." he lies, feeling trapped.

"I for one didn't find your little joke amusing." Mihawk says and Buggy can notice the subtle shift in his expression and how irate he looks with him right now. "Did you, Crocodile?" He asks.

Crocodile's expression isn't any better, in fact it's ten times worse because Crocodile never hides his emotions, especially not ones like anger. "Of course i didn't." He replies with another mocking laugh, and it's at this point that Buggy realizes that he probably shouldn't try to talk to them anymore and that he should instead just run away.

So that's what he does, he takes off in a sprint, trying to put as much distance between him and Mihawk and Crocodile as possible even though he knows that it's pointless. He can't outrun Mihawk, the world’s strongest swordsman is too fast, but even if he could, he still has another man after him. Crocodile may not be as fast as Hawkeye, but he’s good at cornering Buggy and trapping him in a cloud of sand, and Buggy knows that he’s no match for either of them no matter how much he runs, ducks, and hides.

 

They catch Buggy with ease and once they do, they unleash all their anger, frustration, and pure hatred on Buggy. Their assault isn't just physical, it's verbal as well, of course it is. Crocodile and Mihawk’s cold, cruel words hurt a lot more than their fists do sometimes, depending on what’s being said, and Buggy finds himself quickly feeling overwhelmed as tears pour from his eyes.

"I knew you were just spouting a bunch of bullshit in the meeting room."  Crocodile hisses as he punches him for what has to be the tenth time, and Buggy wishes he were exaggerating when he says that. Crocodile’s wrong, though, Buggy was being one hundred percent genuine when he said he wanted them all to get along and treat each other with respect, it's just that he grew frustrated with Mihawk and Crocodile’s constant rejection and coldness towards him.

What else was he supposed to do? How else was he supposed to feel? He’s hurt and frustrated, can’t they see that? Buggy tries several times to explain himself, but it’s no use, Mihawk and Crocodile just continue to beat his face in and mock his every cry and scream until they finally get tired and storm away, leaving Buggy to lie on the ground a clobbered mess. 

Buggy’s entire soul feels shattered into pieces as he lie there, crying his eyes out. Mohji and Cabaji rush over to his side just as soon as Crocodile and Mihawk leave (He never expected them to intervene and if they did, it’d only cause more pain for him.) “Oh my god, captain, are you okay?” Cabaji asks.

No. 

Buggy doesn’t have the heart to respond to the question and the moment he realizes that Cabaji and Mohji are be his side, he tries to hold back all his pain and suffering. They sit him up gently and tell him that they’re going to get him all patched up and softly mutter how much they hate Crocodile and Mihawk just as much as Buggy does, and how Buggy is so brave and strong for putting up with them.

…Is he, though?

Buggy doesn’t feel very brave and strong, he feels like a loser who has no control over his life, but he doesn’t tell Cabaji and Mohji that, how the hell could he?

Things become more hostile between Buggy and Crocodile and Mihawk after that. It seems that his one little slip-up was enough to make Mihawk and Crocodile’s disdain for him grow ten times worse, but then again, maybe it doesn’t matter what Buggy said or did. Maybe things would have always ended up like this, after all Mihawk and Crocodile have absolutely no respect or sympathy for Buggy.

[mangowillow]

last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person? 

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead. 

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?” 

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night. 

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen. 

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than. 

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you. 

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…” 

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond. 

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.” 

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.” 

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights. 

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul. 

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him. 

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?” 

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond. 

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles. 

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio. 

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away. 

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

[enchantinglyjade]

Milk & Honey - Ch. 18

Austin!Elvis x Black!OC

Masterlist

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Summary: Honey and Pearl finally have a chat

Warning: Swearing(?), racial issues, pregnancy,

Note: Okay, I know how many people HATE when babies are added into fanfics, but I am trying my ABSOLUTE BEST to make this actually enjoyable and kind of put a twist on how I typically see children being introduced in writing, so please trust the process. 

Also, I hope this chapter isn’t too confusing. It switches between present day and flashbacks

Song: Mary Don’t You Weep - Inez Andrews

Playlist

-

Every day that passed only became harder. I went through all of Ma’s belongings, staring at them for hours while I reminisced on the past. Most days I was living in my memories just to get myself by.

“Well, ain’t she just precious, Loretta.” Gladys says admiring the young little girl in her new Sunday dress.

Loretta huffs adjusting in her spot to find a more comfortable position against the hard, wilted wood of the porch. “Been drivin me crazy these past few days, won’t let me get through her hair or nothin.”

“Hey, new girl! Nice dress.” A boy pesters from behind the fence. 

The girl turns, wide eyed until crossing her arms upon seeing the owner of the voice.

Gladys smiles at the sight. “Look at that, they’re tryna talk to you, Honey. Why don’t you go along and play with ‘em. And boys! Make sure you include Honey this time!”

“We don’t wanna play with a girl!” Thomas whines.

Loretta shoos away his complaining, kicking out her bare feet across the sand. “She’s the only girl you ever gone see if you keep that up. Just play one game with her, please.”

The three boys groan their way to the backyard, where a ball is left on the ground from their last session. Elvis begins kicking the ball around with Thomas, while Michael walks up to Honey. “Just stay over here while we play. Don’t get in the way.” He commands.

She crosses her arms. “What makes you think I wanna play with you anyway, ugly boy.”

Thomas and Elvis pause their game to hold in their laughter. “Psh, you couldn’t play even if you tried.” Michael sneers.

Honey smiles. “Scared you’ll get whooped by a girl?”

“OOO!” The two boys shout, laughing at Micheal’s upset and embarrassed face. “I want her on my team!” Thomas raises his hand. 

Michael groans. “Come on, foo’s. She can’t play with us.”

Elvis pats the shoulder of his friend. “Nah, she got you good. She can play.”

Pearl and I haven’t talked since that day. Originally I thought about moving away and never speaking to her again. I wanted so badly to just disappear from the world, I already had so much to figure out about the future, I couldn’t stand her attitude on top of it. But a few days after the funeral, I made dinner for the two of us. We sat at the table in silence. I had so much pain in me, but looking at her that night struck something. 

Her eyes were dull, hair unbrushed, sadly picking at her food. She looked worse than I had ever seen her. But what hurt the most was that I remembered she was barely 18. She’s just a kid that lost her daddy too. I was the only family member she had left, and same for me. I’m not much older than her, but enough that it felt like my responsibility to step up as the big sister and take care of her. Take care of her and…someone else in the future now too.

Honey and the boys sit outside under the hot sun, church bells ring in the near distance. She grazes her fingers through the grass, snapping up dandelions from the weeds and weaving the stems through her tangles of hair. She keeps a handful of dandelions in her hand to bury her face into every now and again to take in their sweet yet earthy aroma.

“Would’ya quit sniffin them things. You already know it don’t smell like nothin but grass and dirt.” Elvis teases her. She pouts, throwing one towards his face. He laughs at her attempt, catching it before it can hit his cheek. “Keep stickin your nose in them things and we’ll have to call you Bumble.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Bumble?” She questions.

“Yeah, you know, like the bee. Those big fat ones that pollinate on them flowers. Hey! You’re even fluffy like one too!” He states excitedly, reaching out to rat her curls.

“Does it taste okay?” I ask Pearl.

Her head snaps up, shocked that I just spoke to her. She falters for a moment. “Yeah.”

I nod, swallowing down the lump in my throat. Oh god, what am I doing? I drop my fork onto my plate, resting my forehead in my hand. The loud clank startles her, causing her to stare in uncertainty. 

“I’m pregnant.” I blurt out. I stare deep into the grain of the table with a dry, sarcastic hum of a laugh. I didn’t have much else to lose, who cares if she knows? She’s bound to find out eventually anyways. My lip quivers as I gather the strength to continue. “Elvis. He doesn’t know.” Finally I look up at her, tears rolling down my numb face.

“Michael, stop. She ain’t all that bad.”

“Nah, she’s always tryna do what we’re doin and be like us, but she ain’t.” He says, before storming off in a fit.

Honey stands behind one of her porch’s pillars, hiding her glistening eyes. Elvis sees this and immediately walks up to her. “Honey, don’t cry.” But him taking notice only made the tears come out faster. “It don’t matter what he say. I think you’re fine just the way you are.”

She sniffles. “But you’re always making fun of me too.”

He smiles. “Aww, you know I’m just teasin. We all do it all the time. We don’t mean nothin by it. ‘Side, I really like you. I wouldn’t hurt you like that, I’d much rather be your superhero.”

Honey rubs her red eyes, a weak smile tugging at her lips. “Like Captain Marvel?”

His eyes brighten. “Exactly like Captain Marvel.”

She giggles. “What would that make me?”

He thinks for a moment, stroking the nonexist hairs on his soft chin. “A princess.”

She raises her eyebrow. “A princess? That’s not fair, I wanna be someone strong too!”

“You ain’t gotta be strong when you got someone like me.” He teases, kissing the muscles on his scrawny arms.

She rolls her eyes. “Well, even if I’m a princess, I wanna help save the world too.” She demands, arms folded sternly.

He flashes her a generous smile, giving her a promise to hold deep within her heart. “You and me against the world.”

It was from that day forward that their entire view of each other had changed.

Much to my surprise Pearl has an actual sympathetic look on her face. She reaches across the table, grabbing my hand. “I’m sorry.” She says, already choking up. “For everything. My grandparents- Our grandparents used to tell this story about a colored woman that tried to seduce Daddy with her ‘dark magic’, wanted me to think colored folk were all sorts of evil. But you and your Mama are some of the kindest people I have ever met and I feel horrible bout the things I did. I thought acting like grandmaw would help her live on or somethin, but I wasn’t thinkin with my own head.”

She sniffles, rubbing her nose into her sleeve. “I never even liked Elvis, it was all just to make you feel how I did everytime Daddy paid more attention to you. Every time I talked to Elvis all he’d go on about was you. I ain’t never had nobody that talked about me like that or looked at me that way. He really loved you Honey. I thought what y’all were doin was real brave and I can only hope to be as strong as you one day. But I promise you I didn’t call the cops that day!”

Suddenly, she stands up, getting on her knees in front of me. “I’m gonna help you take care of the baby, okay? U-Unless you don’t want me to…?” She pulls her hands away, looking for signs of anger or resentment in my eyes.

I bite my lip, holding back a sob before I pull her into a hug.

She smiles. “I’m gonna help you through this, Honey. We both need each other more than ever right now.”

Pearl and I became incredibly close after that. Pathetic it took something so tragic to finally bring us together, but I was so grateful to have someone with me on this terrifying journey.

Small bike wheels track through the dirt path, coming up to the neighborhood of their owners. The boys catch a glimpse of her at the end of the block. 

Honey sits on the porch between her mama’s legs, painfully getting her head yanked back each time her mother starts a new braid in her blonde hair.

The three boys smirk, hair still wet from swimming in the waterhole earlier that day. They quickly adjust their shirts, taking off a strap from their overalls and throwing it over their shoulder to give them a ‘cool’ and uncaring bad boy look. Then they fly by, pedaling fast and talking loud to ensure they caught Honey’s attention.

Elvis pops the wheel on his bike, lifting it in the air for half a second. He smiles, satisfied when he sees a small smirk appear on Honey’s face.

Eventually, I could no longer work and we had no choice but to sell the house and move into one of the poorer neighborhoods on the East side of Memphis. When I said I missed those shack houses in Mississippi, I didn’t know how much I actually meant it until moving here.

Most stores in the area were adorned with broken or boarded up windows and fallen signs. Streets were littered with garbage, rusted cars, and dead trees. And our house was complete with wilted wooden panels, peeling wallpaper, and a smell I could never put my finger on. It was no place to raise a child, but it’d have to do. It’s all we had.

Unfortunately walking and bus taking was something we still had to do since Dad’s car was in the accident. Obviously, I didn’t want Pearl walking alone, so I’d have to make grocery trips with her, baby bump and all.

‘You’re a strong woman, Honey. You’ll get through this.’ Mama’s words haunted me every single day, and every hour that passed it became even harder to believe.

It was hard, for the both of us, but it brought us closer until I finally felt like I had a real sister by my side.

I sit on the couch, rubbing at my sore and stretched belly.

“You got a name yet?” Pearl asks from the floor in front of me.

“Charles.” I say sadly.

She smiles weakly. “And a girl?”

I shrug, with a chuckle. “I don’t know. Maybe somethin original like Maple or Vanilla, like Mama did with me.”

Only a few days later, would I find myself crying and thrashing in the most pain I had ever felt in my life, wishing I had Ma by my side to help me through it. A few months after that, our newest addition to the family ran wildly through our home, ransaking everything in sight and bouncing around with his head full of big blonde curls.

“Charles, baby. Be careful. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” I grab him, picking him up to hold in my arms.

I stroke his soft, puffy cheek as he blows spit bubbles, which naturally pop all over me, but I was used to it by now. He’s got his daddy’s same bright blue eyes and a complexion that would’ve made Ma proud.

He was such a little angel, with an occasional tantrum here and there of course, but he was a smart boy, and a fast learner too. I was so grateful everything turned out easy and peaceful since I hadn’t caught a break for the past year.

Still, I had a big choice to make. Do I tell Charles who his father is? I can’t be like my Mama. I know how much it hurts to have something so personal be kept from you, but now I understand her struggle. Will he try to go after him one day? Will he be disappointed that Elvis is his father? Will he hate me if I never tell him?

Which brings me to the flip side of that issue; Do I tell Elvis? How do I tell him? Will he be disappointed with his son? Will he hate me for not telling him by now? What will happen between him and his new girl if I tell them?

My head hurt just thinking about everything.

On the bright side, I guess my wish of having kids with Elvis came true after all, but I didn’t have my Elvis to share it with.

“Come on, Bumble! Go up there with me!”

He tugs on her arm, but she panically plants her feet right into the ground. “Elvis, I don’t wanna go up there in front of everyone!”

“It’ll be fine. Come on!” With one hard tug, she falls forward, stumbling towards the stage with him.

The choir smiles at them, as well as their mothers. The reverend shouts a heavenly cry, preaching up to the sky.

“Come on, dance! Don’t you feel it?” He asks.

She did feel it. She felt power and dreams course through her veins from their singing. She looks around nervously, before Elvis makes an effort to bring her attention back over to him. His smile eases her little heart. Slowly, she lets his energy infect her, matching his rhythmic jumping and throwing her hands out to her sides.

‘Mmm Mary, don’t you weep

Ohh, Martha, don’t you moan

Pharoah’s army drowned in the Red Sea.’

Eventually all that I had saved up from working at Handy quickly dwindled away, and Pearl and I had no choice but to take up jobs again. Pearl was the first. She easily came by a nice job at one of our local groceries stores, I on the other hand had a few issues to work out. After days of searching I finally came across the church. I applied for their choir, which luckily I was hired for. I was nervous to start singing again, but at least I could build my voice back up without being heard too upfront, not to mention it was the only job that came with daycare.

I grew up on the music and loved it, but honestly, being back in the church was hard for me. I was anything but pure, and people knew it.

Night had fallen. They should have gone back home by now, but they were too entranced by the bar that was more lively than ever. Peeking into the window, the two find a scene that blessed their senses. This was something different, something they had never heard before, something they knew they shouldn’t be seeing.

“We should try that.” The boy says.

Honey jumps down from the window to face him. “I don’t know how to dance like that, Elvis”

“Neither do I. I just copy what they do.”

She falters for a moment, unsure if she should give in to the things she was feeling, but puts her hands on his shoulders no less. They sway back and forth to the music that muffled through the poor sealing of the window. She lifts her head to peek through the glass every now and again to make sure she’s imitating the adult woman correctly. 

Then she sees them do something she knew her mama wouldn’t like. The dancer twirls her hips, reaching up to leave a heated kiss against the man she was with.

Honey shrugs. Well, if it was what they were doing.

She moves closer to Elvis, reaching up until-

A gasp fills the air, loud above the blues music coming from inside the building. The two children part from each other in horror, seeing Ms. James towering above them. 

“Go on back home, boy, ‘fore I tell ya mama what you been up to.” She threatens. He swiftly scurries off, leaving Honey to her mother. She grabs her childs hand, marching back to their house. “Honey, if I ever catch you doin that again, I swear-. You ain’t listenin to anymore of that music!”

Oh, I got plenty looks when people saw Charles and I, ‘specially when I’d have to explain the whole father situation. My usual story was that his dad went into the army, but as time rolled by, everyone began to realize how unlikely of a story that was. For those that cared enough, rumors were passed around. Some say I slept with so many men that I didn’t actually know who the father was. Others think he was born from a one night stand. Obviously, I couldn’t tell them Elvis was the father, and I doubt that would HELP to ease all the rumors anyway. Regardless, I quickly became the epitome and walking consequence of lust.

Honey’s mother didn’t let her leave often after that, leaving her silenced in her room. Only occasionally would she be allowed out to play with the boys, including the day she finally got to share a special kiss with her especially favorite friend.

She was excited to see Elvis again, hoping to have another moment like that again as soon as possible, but when she sees him again she’s met with something that breaks her heart.

“I ain’t got no idea what you’re talkin bout.”

She crosses her arms, hoping and praying he was just pulling another prank on her. “Yesterday…when you kissed me…”

He chuckles in a sarcastic tone. “I don’t remember nothin. You musta been dreamin bout me.” He says with a smirk, the other boys snickering behind him.

She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. Betrayed by someone she thought was her friend.

I ran into B.B. King a few times at the church, who became a frequent visitor after that, when he wasn’t on tour anyways.

He came up to me on my way out one day. “Honey, long time no see.” He says, hugging me.

I squeeze him back, so very happy to see a familiar face after so long. “It’s so nice to see you, King.”

One of the girls brings Charles into the room, playfully chasing after him and his sloppy, bow legged steps.

He pulls away with a sad look. “I saw about E.P.” He awkwardly tucks his hands into his pocket. I respond with a defeated sign. “Now, it ain’t none of my business, but if you don’t mind me askin, what happened between you two? You both seemed real happy together, besides the whole jail thing, which I assume played a role in all of this.”

I let out a weak chuckle. “What? He never told you what happened himself?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, we lost touch a while ago.”

Charles stomps his way over to grab onto my leg with a toy in his mouth, his wet hands instantly getting slobber on my shin. I pick him up, awkwardly turning back to King.

“Honey, I’m sorry about all the things I said to you before.”

“It’s okay, Michael. I know you were just jealous you weren’t as good at playing ball as I was.” She states confidently.

He laughs, neither denying nor confirming the accuracy of her words, but instead fumbling with his fingers. “It’s just that- Honey, I-”

“What are you two doin?” Elvis interrupts.

They both look up at him, neither pleased by his presence. Honey crosses her arms, turning back to Michael. “You were saying.”

“Well, I, uh…” He swallows, nervously.

Honey waits for him to answer, but Elvis catches on fast, pushing Michael off of the bench before he can spill his next words. Elvis throws punches at him, but Michael throws them right back. Honey jumps up, attempting to push them away from each other, but it does no good.

“You never even liked her!” Elvis shouts.

“Man, you don’t either, remember!”

“Boys! What the hell’s going on here?!”

It takes their mothers to finally pry them away from each other. They breath heavily, eyeing each other while they get dragged away.

King raises a confused eyebrow. “That baby yours?”

I nod. “Yeah… His name’s Charles.”

He takes a closer look at him, taking in his lighter complexion, blonde hair, and baby blue eyes. He cranes his neck back in thought, before hesitating out, “E.P.’s?”

I stay quiet, biting at my lip and bouncing the baby on my hip. He takes this as a yes.

“He know?”

I shake my head, still not trusting my strength to admit anything out loud just yet.

He pulls me into another hug. “Look, anytime you need anything you tell me. You know us Handy kids will always be a family.” He pulls away, smiling at the baby. “Besides, you’re too talented to lose.”

“Oh whatever.” I laugh out, before taking on a sympathetic tone. “But thank you.”

“We’re moving away.” He says, glooming under the warm, sunny day.

“Okay, Elvis.” She states doubtfully.

He’s always saying him and his family are gonna travel the world and do this and that, but he never does, nothing but little lies and big dreams. The boy who cried wolf. It’s not until she looks outside her window the next morning that she realizes for once he was telling the truth. 

Elvis sits in the back of his family’s car, his father packing the final bag in the trunk. 

Her heart quickens. She speedily races outside, standing on her lawn as the family drives past her. Elvis watches his friend from the window, waving. She was in too much shock to wave back, but she’d regret for years that she didn’t. Her friend was gone. And she’d never see him again.

Or so she thought.

The days became an endless game of survival, trying to keep Pearl safe and Charles happily fed. Always felt like there wasn’t enough of something. 

Life felt like nothing but a yellow brick road, except there was no good witch, no singing or dancing, no powerful wizard to fix all my problems, just an endless road that once led to my dreams, but after years of walking, I had long given up hope of ever finding my way home again.

.

.

.

- Taglist -

@tearupmyhead @chouetteschaussettes @il-giardino @theliterarybeldam @re3kin @anangelwhodidntfall @felicityroth @crash-and-cure @mama-pankow @tzillas @wonderlandlovelove @mirandastuckinthe80s @queenslandlover-93 @coconutessential @pumkiinpasties @buckybarnesbitch00000000 @biafbunny @darkestbeforethedawn16 @dollfaceyourfear @adoreyouusugar @hails-schae @spacegh0ul @im-lame-irl @sargspiderbarnes @whisperily @whatawildone @lukasdreamland @carioquisse

[atinyjules]

Second Time's The Charm Ft. Huang Renjun {ch-1}

A/n: hii...Renjun came in my dream last night. Hence, the new series. Bit I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

So here it iss

Flashback, foreign language and internal thoughts will be: This Font

The mini - masterlist for this series can be found here

Genre: Second chance romance, fluff, angst, crack au, gang au, comfort au

Pairings: Huang Renjun x Yuri Lee

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, gang activity, death, killing, crimes etc.

"Renjun...I'm leaving for America in two days." Yuri's sad voice echoed softly through the library.

"So?" I said in a slightly harsh and rude tone.

"What happens to us then?" She asked while looking down at her palms.

"What else?...we end it." I said in a cold tone making her look at me in surprise.

"What...why?" She questioned, tears pricking her eyes as I stood up.

"Simple...there's another girl who interests me...more than you do." I said making Yuri's eyes widen as she abruptly stood up.

"What do you mean...another girl?" She asked with a shake tone as I smiled.

"A girl who cares for me more, a girl who understands me more, a girl who doesn't force me to do things I don't want to...and most importantly...a girl who gave me the most precious thing she has...something you didn't give me ." I said with venom lacing each word.

"How...how could you?" She asked as now tears fell from her face.

"Simple...you were always too naive...too much of a daddy's girl, not wanting to cross him. So over time...the love died down and all that remained was just me playing along with your little games." I said with a smile and began walking out when a hard book hit the back of my head.

"You jerk! Just you wait...when I come back and take my father's place! No matter what the situation might be...whether it hurts just a little or whether you're fighting for your life...I won't save you!" She exclaimed as her voice pierced through my ear.

"Like I care! If anything, I'd rather die than have you take care of my injuries!" I said as anger entered my veins.

"Then die! You'd be doing the world a great favour by dying!" She exclaimed and threw another book at me which I caught.

"You can go die in America as well! I'm not coming to save you!" I exclaimed and threw the book towards her as she caught it and threw it to the ground.

"Who said I need you to save me?! I can take care of myself very well! Huang Renjun! I hate you!"

×××

Renjun's

"Renjun...Renjun!" I snapped out of my daze when Taeil placed the bowl of chicken noodles I asked for infront of me.

"Oh...thanks." I said as he looked at me and patted my shoulder.

"You okay?" He asked as I nodded my head .

"Better than ever." I say with a small smile.

"Better than ever or worse than ever? No offense but you look worse than ever." Taeil said making me laugh as I took a sip of the noodle broth.

"None taken." I say as he laughed and sat on the chair across mine.

"You heard?" He questioned making me furrow my brows.

"What?" I asked as he cleared his throat and looked at me awkwardly.

"Uh...Yuri's coming back..." Taeil said making me shrug.

"So? Not my problem." I said and began eating the Ramen.

"So you're not even a little alarmed?" Taeil asked as I ignored him and continued eating.

"I was the one who ended it, why would I be alarmed?" I said earning a sigh from Taeil.

"I'm just saying that...you could've ended things on a good note...you didn't have to be so harsh." Taeil said in a soft tone making me sigh as I kept my chopsticks down.

"I was sick of her...what'd you expect?" I said as he got up and patted my shoulder.

"For all I know...that Renjun said what he said just because he wanted her to focus on her dream not because he was sick of her." Taeil said before leaving me alone to head back into the kitchen.

×××

Yuri's

"Byee, I'll miss you guys!" I said as I walked through the hallway for the last time with my hands full of gifts and bouquets.

"Are you gonna walk around saying bye to everyone?" I looked infront of me to meet the owner of the voice.

"Ten!" I ran into my elder brother's welcoming embrace as he twirled me around and put me down.

"Ayy, you grew out your hair." He said and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Yup, oh...and who's this??" I said in a teasing tone as the person groaned and looked away.

"Aww, Yuta came to pick me up too??" I said and moved to hug him as he patted my back lightly.

"If you're done can you let go now?" He said as I gave him a tight hug and pulled away with a laugh.

"Okay, okay...but it does feel great to be picked up by two favourite nct members~" I said making Ten coo as we headed to the car.

×××

Renjun's

"Jeno, Jaemin...go get Yuri, Ten and Yuta from the airport. Their plane should arrive in a while." Taeyong said to his younger brother Jeno and Jaemin who nodded and left.

I let out a sigh as I found myself walking towards the kitchen where Taeil and his youngest son Taejun were talking to each other.

"Morning Renjun, do you want some tea?" Taeil asked to which I nodded.

"Yes, please. " I said and sat on the chair beside Taejun's.

"Uncle Jun, do you like dragons?" Taejun asked me making me sigh as I pretended to think.

"Mhh...yeah, especially fire dragons." I said earning a squeal from the 4 year old.

"Me too!" He said and showed off his favourite dragon plushie.

"Ah, I see you fixed mr. Firebelly's leg." I said referring to the dragon's leg which his brother tore off.

"Yes! Appa fixed it!" He said happily when Taeil ruffled his hair and handed me my tea.

"Jeno and Jaemin went to get them...feeling nervous?" Taeil asked making me break into a chuckle.

"Sounds like you're the one who's nervous.. but no, I don't care nor am I nervous." I replied as Taejun stared at me.

"Uncle Jun, who's coming?" Taejun asked me as I motioned to his father.

"Ask your appa, he's more closer to the visitors." I said earning a soft smack on the head from Kun who just entered with groceries.

"They're not visitors Jun, aigoo did Taejun finish his breakfast?" Kun cooed at the toddler who greeted him with a gummy smile as he nodded.

"Very good! Here's your dessert!" Kun cooed and handed Taejun a cookie from his grocery bag.

"Thank you uncle Kun!" The toddler said in a cute manner making me break into a smile as well.

"Taejun-ah, go change out of your pjs and come down quick okay? Your uncles and auntie are coming!" Taeil said in a sweet tone as his son obliged and went to his room.

"I wish for the day I have minions of my own." Kun said with a happy tone as he watched Taejun run away with his little body.

"No one's stopping you." I said in a nonchalant manner as I took a bite of my bread earning a flick on the back of my head from Kun.

"And until then, I need to take care of minions like these." Kun said with a scowl on his face.

"You two can take care of my kids until you have your own." Taeil said making me scoff.

"I did not say anything about wanting fatherhood." I said and kept my cup before going to my room.

"I'll be in the room." I said before leaving.

Yuri's

I smiled and opened my arms to hug Chenle who happily ran to my embrace.

"Lele~ you look so different!" I exclaimed making him chuckle.

"You too, I remember how you'd always complain and cut your hair even if it grew just one inch past your shoulder." He said with a smile as I laughed, reminiscing my past self.

"Are the rest home?" Ten asked Chenle who gave him a bro hug.

"Yup, wait...uhh...yup!" Chenle said making me ruffle his hair fondly.

"Let's meet everyone!"

How will Renjun and Yuri react to each other? Find out in the next chapter?!

That's it for the first chapter!

I hope you guys liked it! Thank you for embarking on this new quest with me! 💖✨️

Chapter 2 can be found here

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 💖✨️

[thetomorrowshow]

poisoned rats in a pot of grain - ch. 11

Masterlist - Previous - Next

i'm stan and i was wrong

ok so i KNOW i said that last chapter would be the penultimate one but alas. here we are at ch 11/12. I SWEAR NEXT ONE WILL BE THE LAST ONE IF NOT YOU CAN HUNT ME FOR SPORT

cw: food, flashbacks, panic attacks, injury

~

Jimmy’s not sure what to think when he’s sitting in Major’s car once again, this time without a mask (and Major took his off as well as soon as they got into the car, pulling his hair up into a beanie to hide the blue, but Jimmy tries not to stare too much). It’s been over a year, he realizes, since they were last in these places.

Like last time, the clothes he wears aren’t his—but at this point, they might as well be. An oversized grey hoodie with the drawstrings removed. Blue sweatpants. Socks with the little grippies. A trash bag of similar clothing is in the backseat.

When he met with Major three days ago, he hadn’t expected this. He’d expected yelling, a jail cell with his name on it, thirty-to-life in prison.

Not a home. And a . . . a friend? Can he call Major a friend?

His head hurts. He’ll take a headache any day over that early, sluggish phase of his anxiety medication, though. The phase had left him feeling disconnected from his body, as if he was merely an observer from above. He didn’t like that. At least he can fully process everything going on right now.

Major turns on the radio and Jimmy practically jumps out of his skin when some country-pop song starts blaring from the speakers. Major turns it down with a muttered apology, then the car jolts back and they’re moving.

Jimmy runs his hands along the seatbelt, grounding himself bit by bit. The car starting to move had felt a little too much like a van pulling out of a garage, but not so similar that Jimmy felt anything more than a deep sense of dread. He breathes in, holds it for a moment, then lets it out. He’s safe. He’s with Major, and Major took care of him that one time so long ago when he’d tried to escape and had been such a bad pet—

In. Hold. Out. He’s safe. His fingers tap along the seatbelt. In his lap is a nice, new journal, and a pack of unopened markers. Josh had given them to him this morning after their last session. If his thoughts get too loud, he can crack open the journal and put some of them out of his head.

Major might think he’s weird. Barely ten minutes out of the mental hospital, and he already can’t handle himself. But Josh would tell him he’s had a very traumatic past year (and life), and that it’s okay to use coping mechanisms in public.

“Still want to stop at McDonald’s?” Major asks over the low music, and Jimmy can’t help that his eyes jump to his face.

Not that Jimmy’s seen very many unmasked heroes, but those he has seen he’s always been slightly disappointed with. Major is entirely different. Major is. . . .

Well.

Without even looking in the side mirror, Jimmy knows he’s turning a bit red. He hasn’t had any viable romantic candidates in a year, who can blame him? Major’s pretty, that’s it. It’s just—it’s a natural reaction to get flustered in the presence of a hot person. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I was gonna stop and get myself a chicken sandwich anyway, so it’s not like it’s out of the way. Anything you’ve been craving?”

He’s not sure how he can repay Major. His apartment and all of his belongings are likely gone, along with his money. But Major’s offering, and it seems safe to accept. . . .

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He wants to tell Major that just a hamburger is fine, that he is hungry, that he’s been craving fast food, but he can’t. He stares determinedly at the dashboard, willing his voice to work. His entire body is run through with tension, waiting . . . waiting for some undefinable other shoe to drop.

He hates it.

Major doesn’t seem bothered by his lack of response, just whistles a little to himself as he pulls into a McDonald’s drivethru. He grimaces at the line. It’s early afternoon, Jimmy realizes with a glance at the clock display. Lunch rush.

Lunch rushes are things. He forgot about that. There’s so many cars and people here. Jimmy shifts uncomfortably, slumps down a bit in his seat. That’s a lot of people seeing his face. He doesn’t like that. He really doesn’t like that. And he’s in the passenger seat, which means that he’s on the outside of the drivethru line and the front windows of a car are never tinted as darkly as the back ones and just anyone could look in and see him—

What can you do to fix this? Josh seems to ask in his head. What’s a simple thing that will help calm you down?

He can cover his face. His shirt? It’ll look a little silly, but not too bad. He glances over at Major, sees him idly looking out the window while tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Jimmy pulls the collar of his hoodie up until it covers his nose, hoping to quell the jitters in his stomach.

It helps tremendously and he lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Major does happen to look over, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ll order me a chicken sandwich, and you a burger, and both of us fries. Sound good?”

That’s . . . oddly considerate, isn’t it? Jimmy nods, looks over to meet Major’s eyes, sending him what he hopes is a sufficient smile with his mouth covered. Major apparently understands and smiles back.

“Right. That’ll come with ketchup, onions, and pickles, I think. Is that all good?”

It sounds fine, so Jimmy nods again, and soon enough there’s a burger and fries in his lap and a cup of water in his hand and he’s not entirely sure where to put it or whether he can eat in Major’s car. Major has pulled back onto the road, his own sandwich unwrapped and held in one hand, so Jimmy assumes it’s okay and sets the water between his knees before unwrapping his burger.

“My name’s Scott, by the way,” Major says between bites, and Jimmy, burger halfway to his mouth, freezes. Does Major expect him to say his own name, now? Because words aren’t exactly his strong suit right now.

As if he can read Jimmy’s mind, Major continues, “And I know that at the hospital, they were calling you TJ for some reason? But I . . . I know your real name, I think. Do you want me to call you your real name?”

He’s not sure why Major—or, Scott—would know his real name, but after taking stock of himself, he realizes that he actually wouldn’t mind being Jimmy. No secret identities, nothing misconstrued about his role. Just Jimmy.

It’s dangerous, he knows. But his name is his and his to give out where he wants to, and he wants to be called his name for once. Before his nerves can get the better of him, he nods.

Scott’s smiling a little when he speaks. “Okay. Hi, Jimmy. It’s nice to properly meet you.”

-

Jimmy makes it about thirty minutes in Major’s house before having a panic attack.

Josh had told him that even with his medication, the sudden change of environments would probably trigger emotional distress. So Jimmy’s sort of expecting something to go down—and down it goes, while he’s sitting in the middle of a bedroom that is so familiar it almost hurts to look at. It’s the same room he’d woken in that one time so long ago. He hadn’t thought he would remember it very well. Now that he’s here, though, he remembers everything about it, down to the color of the carpet, and it’s far too much to cope with.

His clothes are still in the trash bag, his new journal on the bed. There’s a desk in the corner, chair pushed up into it. He’s not sure what to do with that. One side of the room has both a closet and a set of drawers, which is somehow both thoughtful and utterly overwhelming because Jimmy only has three shirts and two pairs of sweatpants, one of which is reserved for sleep.

But what really sends him spiraling is the brand new phone in his hand, already unlocked and set up with Major—labeled Scott—as the only contact.

He doesn’t know what to do. There’s an app on the phone that leads to the internet, and Jimmy hasn’t been connected to this form of the outside world in months.

There’s a new phone in his hand. There’s a charging cable already plugged into the wall.

There’s an outlet in the wall that’s never going to blow out when he plugs his phone in. A phone that won’t spontaneously catch fire. A messaging app that won’t glitch out and send highly inappropriate texts to his contacts.

His tears aren’t of joy, like he’d expected. He’s not happy. He cries because everything is wrong, everything’s changed and it’s so very hard to cope with change after days—after years—of maintaining a routine.

So once Jimmy’s done hyperventilating over all the things that are new, once he’s done bawling about how nothing makes sense, he curls up in the corner of the room against the bedframe and stares at the wall until Major—Scott—calls his name. Then he rises, shoves the phone into his hoodie pocket, and leaves to join the superhero for dinner.

-

Scott really wants Jimmy to leave his room more often, and he’s not even subtle about it.

And sure, maybe lying on the floor staring at the wall for hours at a time isn’t the best thing, especially when he occasionally misses his medication because of just how deep he’s sunken into that mindset. Scott had laid down a ground rule of eating at least one meal a day together, and some days that’s the only time Jimmy can manage to drag himself up to face the world outside his bedroom.

It’s not that he’s not eating—he’s certainly not very good at eating, but whenever he has the strength to to slip out of his room and fix himself some lunch or breakfast, he grabs a couple of non-perishables and stocks them away in the set of drawers. If Major notices, he doesn’t say anything. And when Jimmy’s stuck in the recesses of his own mind, he’s always got a sleeve of crackers or a can of soup to keep his strength up. It’s certainly more than he’d eaten before.

About two weeks in, he has his first therapy session with Nora, who is a very nice woman but frowns when he mentions that staying in his room just feels safer. He knows what’s going to happen while he’s there. He knows that everything there, while new and disconcerting, is more familiar than anywhere else (including this downtown office, so far away, with the stiff sofa and the sequined pillows) and therefore more tolerable.

He doesn’t mention that while he’s in his room, his mind slips into a deadened state where all he can do is stare at the wall and hope that no one will come to hurt him.

He does mention that every time Scott knocks on the door, he immediately shoots to his knees and bows his head, months of conditioning refusing to relinquish its grasp.

Nora suggests two things: one, leave the room more often. Spend time in other parts of the house, engage in leaving the house maybe once a week. Jimmy doesn’t like that suggestion at all—it sounds terrifying and like a recipe for disaster.

Her second suggestion is to leave the door to his bedroom open, and really, why hadn’t Jimmy thought of that?

It makes perfect sense. He can’t be taken by surprise when Major knocks if there’s no need to knock. So even though it’s nerve-wracking and possibly one of the hardest things he’s ever done (anyone could see him, anyone could come in and hurt him), Jimmy starts leaving the door wide open.

And then he’s embarrassed about the way he occupies himself in his room, so he starts holding on to his phone while he stares at the wall, a video pulled up and ready to play in case Scott passes the doorway.

And then he just starts actually watching the video pulled up.

He still doesn’t have a reason to regularly leave the room, but he starts watching a long series of videos purely by accident and ends up getting sucked into the series, taking more and more time out of his staring-at-the-wall time and redistributing it to other things. It’s almost like just engaging with the content of the series gives him energy to do more.

And by some happenstance, Scott mentions that he has a home gym over dinner one night.

Jimmy’s never been able to properly work out. He used to go running, and he picked up more than a few hand-to-hand fight tricks in his time both as a hero and a villain, but an actual gym he’d deemed too dangerous for his spontaneous volatility. And suddenly, with his powers no longer as random as they had once been, he has the freedom to do whatever he wants. Somehow, he hadn’t already put that together.

It’s a little overwhelming, if he’s honest. When he mentions it in passing to Scott (as casually as he can, though he spent days building up to it and he’s inwardly shaking in terror), Scott only looks sad for a moment before offering to start small—use the home gym for as much physical activity as he’s cleared for, try to spend more time out of his room each week. It’s just like what Nora recommended, and while Scott isn't a certified counselor, he is probably the smartest person Jimmy knows.

He’s also the kindest person Jimmy knows—he doesn’t know too many people, to be fair (his social circle consists of his conservator and his therapist and that’s it), but that doesn’t mean that Scott isn’t the first person to seem to genuinely like him in . . . well, forever. Jimmy knows, after several weeks of nothing but patience and encouragement and reassurances that there isn’t another shoe about to drop, that Scott only has his best interests in mind. He trusts him on this.

So he starts working out. He starts joining Scott for movie nights. He starts helping out with chores here and there, and that’s perhaps the most surprising thing—Jimmy finds he likes doing chores. He feels like he’s actually helping out, repaying Scott’s hospitality in little ways—and it reminds him of the time Before, when he and Lizzie would clean the bathroom together or switch out the laundry. It ain’t much, but it’s honest work, and he hasn’t had the opportunity to do anything like it in years.

He has panic attacks, of course. He has flashbacks. One morning he lies in bed, too terrified to move because he’s back on that table and faceless scientists are operating on him and Xornoth has a gloved hand in his hair.

He can feel Scott’s touch on his arm, he can hear what he’s saying, but all he can do is whimper when Xornoth demands, “Eyes on me, little bird.”

“Jimmy, can you look at me?”

He can’t, he really can’t, because Xornoth just told him where to look and he can’t disobey his master’s orders.

Scott’s thumb is making circles on his wrist, and Scott himself is saying things like “Wake up, please” and “It’s just a nightmare, you’re okay, you’re safe”.

Scott’s never lied to him before.

So despite the threat of Xornoth right in front of him, the next time Scott asks Jimmy to look at him, Jimmy opens his eyes and sees Scott and not Xornoth.

And though he can still feel the IV in his arm, the touch of too many rubber gloves and a too-familiar hand carding through his hair, Jimmy knows it’s not real.

Scott holds out his hand, and with a herculean effort, Jimmy takes it.

Scott smiles, and it’s enough to break the flashback’s hold completely.

Jimmy, haltingly, smiles back.

It’s after that flashback that Jimmy knows he can trust Scott. That had been one he wouldn’t have been able to break out of by himself, one that would have swallowed his voice for days. Scott had interrupted it before it had really ascertained its hold on him.

Sure, he’d trusted Scott before. He’s trusted Scott for a long time—ever since he first put his life into Scott’s hands. But this is different. It’s like an entirely different type of trust, because Jimmy now trusts Scott as not just a caretaker, but as . . . as a friend.

He knows for certain now that Scott isn’t taking care of him out of some moral obligation. Scott genuinely cares about him. He’d suspected, of course, but he hadn’t been able to know for sure.

Jimmy finds himself shy for the rest of the day, avoiding eye contact and speaking nary a word. The dynamic has changed, somehow, and he’s pretty sure it’s in a good way.

Even good change, however, is change, and he’s exhausted and anxious about anything that might go wrong. He goes to bed early, finds comfort in the security of laying on the floor and staring at the wall until he drifts off.

-

Jimmy ventures out into the world again for the first time five weeks into his stay with Scott.

It’s not a long trip, nor a dangerous one, but Scott drives him down to a city park and they walk together, Jimmy with a medical-style face mask on and Scott with his bright blue hair tucked into a beanie.

They bring vegetable peelings and scraps to throw at ducks—which is confusing to Jimmy, but Scott had said something about bread being unhealthy for them which is whatever—and on a bridge, over the duck pond, they talk.

Scott starts. Scott talks about college, about his friends, about how he became a superhero—and with that, his misadventures in dating.

“Wait, you dated a villain?” Jimmy asks incredulously. “And you almost joined him?”

“I was a stupid college kid,” Scott defends, though he’s laughing. “I made dumb choices back then.”

“Oh, and you never make any these days.”

“Exactly,” Scott declares pompously. “I’m known for my impeccable decision-making skills.”

Jimmy chucks a potato peel into the water, watches the ducks and turtles fight over it. “Was it a good decision when you let me into your house last year?”

Scott goes silent, looks down. “Yeah,” he says after a moment, fiddling with the railing. “One of my best ones.”

Jimmy blushes. Not quite what he’d been expecting, but he’s not going to say no to a bit of a confidence boost. “Really?” he asks quietly.

Scott doesn’t answer, though. “Was that really where you lived?” he changes the subject. “Where I dropped you off that one time? Because . . . well, after you went missing . . . again . . . I—I kind of went looking for you. And the landlord of the building I dropped you off at didn’t recognize the description I gave.”

“Oh, no. I had you drop me off a few streets away, I think,” Jimmy replies, casting his mind back. A lot of his memories from then—the brief period between captivities—are fairly blurred and unstable. “But yeah. I lived in that neighborhood. Nothing special, I know.”

It hadn’t been anything special. It never had been, not as long as he’d lived on his own.

“I sort of thought you had a decent bit of money,” admits Scott, tossing a scrap to the ducks. “I mean, you were always robbing banks and rich citizens.”

Jimmy scoffs. “Okay, firstly, I have zero credit score. There was no way I could get anywhere nicer than the shadiest of apartments without getting arrested for having suspicious amounts of physical money. Secondly, I lost a lot of that money. And third of all, most of the time stealing from actual people was an accident—I usually just shoplifted from Walmart or whatever.”

It’s quiet between them, then, and Jimmy stares out over the pond, sees turtles lined up on a log a little ways out. He turns to ask Scott if he thinks he can throw far enough to get food to those turtles, only to find Scott staring at him, slackjawed.

“Wh-what is it?” Jimmy asks nervously. Scott blinks several times, straightens.

“I—lost how? And what do you mean, stealing on accident? That was—that was an insane amount of money that you took, what happened to it all?”

Before Jimmy can answer, Scott continues. “Lost, like—like you blew it all at a casino? Or—”

“Gosh, no!” Jimmy bursts out incredulously. “Me? In a casino? Are you joking?”

Scott has the decency to look embarrassed, at least, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I—all right, then, how?”

“I . . . I just lost it.” Jimmy shrugs, flicks a piece of carrot into the water. “Depends, really. Once on the pier my wallet fell out of my pocket and rolled into the ocean, where a fish swallowed it. Once I dropped it all down a drain. One time a roll of bills caught fire in my hands.”

“No way.”

Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, fingers rolling over the scar there. “Yeah. It never worked out for me. I think I mostly just kept doing it because . . . I guess I wanted someone to stop me.”

Scott doesn’t respond for a long while. When he does, his voice is quiet. “I’m sorry. I should’ve noticed.”

“That wasn’t your responsibility. We were enemies, Scott.”

They stand there in silence a minute more, then Scott hands Jimmy what’s left of the bag of scraps, and Jimmy upends it, shaking about half a bag’s worth of vegetable peelings into the water. Ignoring the frenzy below, he and Scott set off for home—which Jimmy is privately grateful for. He didn’t want to say anything, but he’s been growing more and more anxious that even with the medical mask, someone would recognize him.

“So,” Scott says once they’re back on the proper trail, heading in the direction of the parking lot. “Stealing from rich people on accident?”

Jimmy groans, but he’s smiling. He really, really likes this. He likes the way Scott talks to him, like an equal, not like something delicate that could break at any moment. He likes the way he teases. He likes hanging out with him.

“Look, what you have to understand first is that most of the time, I had no clue what I was doing, I was just trying to not hurt anyone. Got that?”

“You disabled the alarms on Joey Graceffa’s house before sneaking in, Jimmy. We have camera footage of it. You’re telling me that was an accident?”

“Entirely.”

-

Scott had asked him, back in his first week here, when he would be feeling up to meeting with Lizzie.

Apparently that day is today, around two months into his stay at Scott’s house. He’s anxious—too anxious to be in his room all morning, instead sitting around in the kitchen or the living room and just generally getting in Scott’s way. The man has become his main source of comfort and is probably the only person he truly trusts in the world—even Nora doesn’t see him at his worst, those moments only for Scott.

Scott had taken the day off without even asking Jimmy if he wanted that, which warms his heart every time he remembers it. Scott curls up on the couch and puts on a commentary video to watch, which Jimmy can’t help but become absorbed in. He doesn’t even know the movie the commentator is reviewing, but it seems terrible and the commentator is witty. It doesn’t put his anxiety to rest, but he manages to become distracted right up until Scott checks his phone and lets him know that Lizzie is on her way.

Then he runs, bolting from the couch to his room in a matter of seconds. He hides behind his bed, trying to breathe. In, hold, out. His hands are shaking. His entire body is shaking. This isn’t good. He doesn’t feel good.

Long minutes pass. His ribs hurt. His ribs burn. One of them is broken, it’s surely broken, it was kicked in and snapped he can feel it—

His scrabbling hands pull up his new blue sweater (he’d tried to dress nice for seeing his sister again) and he prods at his side. Nothing. It’s normal.

Flashback. Okay. He’s fine. Somehow, over his panicked not-breathing, he hears the front door open. That was—okay. Perfect. He loves that for himself. He’d expected maybe twenty minutes of time to calm himself in his room, maybe longer, but apparently his bad luck was still in effect even when it literally couldn’t be.

Another few minutes before there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Jimmy? Can I come in?”

Jimmy can’t quite make his voice work (please not today, not when he actually has to talk), so he shifts around until he can extract his phone from his back pocket and texts Scott an answer in the affirmative.

A moment later, his door creaks open. “Jimmy? Are you—hey, there.”

Jimmy looks up through watery eyes (when did he start crying?) to see Scott kneeling beside him. Scott doesn’t say anything at first, just settles in against the bed and holds out a hand.

Jimmy takes it.

Despite himself, he feels his heart jump.

Scott sits there with him for a few moments, then says quietly, “It’s okay if you can’t meet with her today. Do you want me to tell her to come by a different time?”

And Jimmy feels a wave of gratitude and affection for Scott utterly overwhelm him, because in the past decade, nobody has ever shown this level of kindness toward him. Few people have seen him as anything good or deserving of love, and here Scott is, holding his hand and offering to change everything out of nothing but the kindness of his heart.

Just knowing that Scott is here, and that Scott is Scott, Jimmy feels okay with what he has to do. Not great, but at least capable.

After all, how bad can it be compared to living as a pet for literal months, abused at every turn to the point of barely even knowing his own name? Talking to his long-lost sister about how he killed their loving parents is going to be a walk in the park.

“My life sucks,” Jimmy realizes aloud. He lets out a bark of laughter. “Gosh, it really just has sucked, hasn’t it?”

“I . . . Jimmy, I’m. . . .”

“It’s fine. Really,” Jimmy adds, when Scott raises a brow. “I just can’t think of anything good that’s happened to me in the past decade, up until—” he cuts himself off, heat spreading to his cheeks. “Anyways. Don’t—don’t send Lizzie away. I can talk to her. I just . . . freaked out.”

With Scott’s help he stands, and with Scott’s hand still in his he finds the strength to walk (his bad hip twinges, but he’s not sure if it’s actually acting up or if the pain lingers from the brief flashback) into the nice living room.

Lizzie’s sitting there. Maskless. Street clothes.

Her fingers tap-tap-tap against her knee. Jimmy knows that feeling. That anxiety, but nowhere to run. Holding it in because there’s no other option. Staying quiet and complacent because if your master thinks for even a second that you’re moving without permission, they’ll punish you terribly and brutally.

He’s working on that.

Lizzie looks up when he enters, smiles cautiously.

Jimmy doesn’t think he can be blamed when all of his words of apology die in his throat and all he can think about is how much he missed her.

Something tips her off. He’s not sure what. But she stands, spreads her arms, asks the question quietly.

“Is it all right if I hug you?”

Jimmy throws himself into his sister’s arms and sobs.

-

Jimmy’s been living in Scott’s house for nine weeks and two days (not that he’s counting) when the man hugs him.

It’s a shock, one that sends him reeling and grasping for any reference on how to work with this. He hasn’t been hugged since . . . he hasn’t been hugged . . . in years, probably, because even before everything he’d been a fairly solitary individual. He doesn’t think he’s been hugged on a regular basis since childhood.

If Scott is a hugger, that’s probably going to change relatively shortly.

Scott pulls away quickly, likely put off by the way Jimmy freezes (because of course he can’t respond to things like a normal person, he’s a pet he acts like a pet), and holds him at arm’s length, face cycling through all sorts of feelings.

“Sorry, I really—I should’ve asked, we ought to make a list of—”

Jimmy gently deattaches his arms from Scott’s loose grip, then tries for a hug of his own. It’s awkward, and stiff, and he thinks he put his arms in the wrong place but Scott—

Scott doesn’t mind, just gasps slightly and relaxes into Jimmy’s hold, hums softly. And even though he knows he’s doing it wrong, he can’t help but feel this is unequivocally right.

Uh-oh.

Very suddenly, Jimmy’s life is shifting from a depressing series of torturous events to a romcom. Because out of nowhere, he has a crush on—on Major.

It’s so sudden that his vision seems to tilt, from this way to that, in a dizzying sequence that leaves him feeling rather ill. He barely has to wonder why Scott’s become an object of his attraction. It’s barely been more than two months and he’s already done a million incredible things.

Three days in, he’d gone over Jimmy’s medications with him and asked about allergies and favorite foods and the like, obviously trying to make Jimmy’s time here as pleasant as possible.

Whenever Jimmy expresses that he likes a food, Scott writes it down. There’s now a list in Scott’s list notebook (he makes lists so often that’s all Jimmy can think to refer to it as) with all of Jimmy’s favorite meals.

Jimmy had mentioned offhand that he went to a trampoline park once as a kid and had missed it ever since, and Scott had gone out of his way to look one up and offer to go, eyes bright.

Scott leaves the doors open ever since he noticed Jimmy doing it.

He never complains about Jimmy’s frequent panic attacks.

He’s seen Jimmy at his lowest, and continues to care about him.

Not to mention, his cyan hair is gelled up into the loveliest little curls, his eyes are a prettier blue than the noon sky, the dimple in his left cheek is placed just perfectly to offset his brilliant smile. His arms are strong and chiseled, as Jimmy’s noticed on one or two sleeveless occasions, and the one time he’d seen Scott with just a towel wrapped around his waist his mouth had actually gone dry.

How had he not noticed before now? It’s fairly obvious, in hindsight.

“We should make a list of what physical touch we’re okay with,” Scott tells him as he pulls away, and Jimmy only closes his mouth and nods and tries furiously not to blush.

He can’t have a romantic relationship right now. He’s not even interested in one. He’s trying his best every day to remember that he can even be a human, let alone a boyfriend.

He shouldn’t. But gods above, he wants to try.

[makeste]

BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids​ for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

[saintkiri]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: it’ll be okay

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as time starts ticking down to his last day, an argument sparks uo between you and eren. this argument felt like deja vu. despite the argument, eren still has a smile on his face. this whole time he’s been nothing but smiles, until tonight for a brief moment he confessed that he was scared. while you cry about losing him again, he reminds you that every is going to be okay, but will it? tomorrow you’ll be miserable again..tomorrow you’ll see the world differently without the person who made you see it through his eyes; beautiful and full of life. but how can you do that without him?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: implied aot ch. 139 manga spoilers!!, suggestive smut (in flashback), angst, cliche romance. gut wrenching fluff.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: ~ 2k

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: it’s been a month since i updated, and i’m really sorry about that. life has been a lot for me, but i’m fine now. anyways..see y’all next chapter for 5/6!!! and here is the song based off of this chapter!!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

previous chapter

it’s crazy how memories work, right?

the human mind picks and chooses what it wants to believe or what it wants to remember, and your mind chooses to keep all the happy memories of you and eren, and only those. you live off of them. your brain fuels and runs off of them.

so, when the arguments happened, you taught yourself how to forgive and forget. you would say your sorries, and you would spend the rest of the night talking it out, making sure you were both on the same page.

you also made use you would always say i love you before bed, and never go to bed angry, even if you had to stay up all night to make sure.

and the one time you didn't do either, it resulted in the death of eren.

you watched him walk out that same door twice now. the first time he never returned, and you weren't sure if he was going to this time.

it was almost like deja vu, or a blast from the past. you got that same gut wrenching feeling you did a year ago. and this time, you were going to chase after him.

you ran to the front door, not caring if it was cold, not thinking about anything but.. him.

as soon as you stepped out the door, it was pouring. you saw eren walking on the sidewalk, "eren, wait!" you shouted. he kept walking, not turning around.

you finally caught up with him, grabbing a hold of his arm, "eren!" you sobbed. "i didn't...i didn't mean it, i swear." if you could go back to fifteen minutes ago and undo what you said..you would in a heartbeat. you didn't mean it.

before he could open his mouth, you stopped him, "please..just hear me out. i'm so mad, eren." you sobbed, "i hate that i lost you, and t-tomorrow, i'll be losing you all over again. and tomorrow, i-i'm going to be reliving the same nightmare i did a year ago. not only did i suffer, but you did as well." you watched eren's head fall in sadness, "a year ago, we both lost something." you commented, placing your hand on his cheek, gently brushing your thumb on his cheekbone. "we lost each other, eren." you replied with a shaky voice. he looked up slowly, "i'm sorry for walking out," eren say softly as he took a step closer to you. you moved your hand, just for eren to place it back on his cheek.

"i'm sorry for saying that i hated you." he moved your hand, leaning in to kiss the top of your head, "i'm scared, y/n." he silently sobbed, that was the first time he actually said how he felt about this. and it broke you. his arms then wrap around you so tight, you felt like you couldn't breathe. but you didn't care, cause tomorrow is going to be the worse pain you've experienced.

after a couple moments of standing in the rain, you both decided to go back inside. it was silent, not anger, not awkward, it was just silent. you both didn't know what to say, there were no words that could make tomorrow feel any less painful.

the only thing you both wanted to do was hold each other. you wanted to be able to feel alive for one more time before the world turns dull and grey again.

every time a tear fell from your eye, eren would be right there to wipe it up. eren still has a smile on his face, despite everything that happened today, and what's going to happen tomorrow, he still has that smile on his face. that smile you fell in love with.

it wasn't a painful smile, it was a smile..his smile, letting you know that everything is going to be okay.

and that smile was right, cause even though he wasn't going to be there, physically next to you, you both know that somehow he'll still be with you.

"let's go to bed, hm?" eren said softly as he kissed the top of your head. and for the final time, you followed him up the stairs. his hand never left yours, and you knew why, and you didn't dare to question it. you couldn't handle what he would have to say. you knew that whatever he had to say would damage you both.

you were both dreading to close your eyes, you didn't want this final night to end. you wanted to stay up all night and venture the night, living it like it was your last. but, at the same time, you both didn't want to do much besides laying in bed.

there were no words while you both were crawling into bed. you didn’t even know what time it was, but all you knew that it was grey and gloomy outside.

it didn’t matter what time it was, you were both tired. you were both mentally and physically tired.

after you both changed and got out of your damp clothes, you started walking towards the bed, when you heard something. it was a soft laugh..from eren. it was the first time today that you heard something come from him that wasn’t a silent sob. he was smiling. and just like always, his smile spread on yours, “what’s so funny?” you said as you fixed the bed, “n-nothing..” you rolled your eyes, the smile never leaving your cheeks, “mhm, sure.”

“the sweater you’re wearing.” you look down, realizing it was the same sweater you wore —well more like stole,— when he said he loved you for the first time.

flashback; december fifth twenty-sixteen

“hm, let’s go get some ice cream.” you suggested. hearing eren sigh softly, “at this point we should own an ice cream place.” you playfully slapped his arm, he quickly glanced a smile, then focusing back on driving. he placed his hand on your thigh, and that same feeling that you felt when you first met him came back. butterflies.

it’s never ending butterflies with him.

every moment is like you’re floating.

every moment with him, you live it like it’s your last.

every moment with him, it’s never end smiles and laughs.

every moment with him..was special.

he caved in, pulling a u-turn to drive back to the nearest grocery store.

“please tell me you’re going to get something different this time, y/n.” you rolled your eyes with a smile, “hey! it’s not my fault vanilla is my favorite flavor.” he laughed, while pulling into the plaza, “you need to expand your horizons!” he would always make jokes about you liking that flavor. you liked other flavors, but there was something about vanilla that hit the spot like no other.

after eren turned off the car, there was this lustful moment. you couldn’t explain that feeling but it felt right. like as if all these moments with him were supposed to happen and all these core memories with him were just the start.

he leaned in closer, his nose gently bumping into yours, your lips brush against each other, it was perfect.

he placed his hand on your cheek, slowly and sweetly deepening the kiss. it wasn’t a sexual kiss, it was a kiss filled with a life long promise of lust.

that kiss defined your future with eren, just like your first kiss. as his lips left yours, the feeling still lingered. "let's go get your ice cream, "kay?"

you nod with smile, giving him another quick peck. the smile that was on his face, was mesmerizing.

"Whatcha smiling about, hm?" you teased. still being close to him, watching his eyes wandering all over your face. his eyes moved towards your lips, then to your eyes,

“you're so beautiful, you know that right?" he always reminds you. whether it's three a.m. or twelve p.m. he always reminds you.

you cup his cheek giving him another kiss, "yes, and i'm thankful i have you to remind me." there's these moments where you don't feel like yourself for some odd reason, and just him alone makes you feel a million times better. he's the reason why you smile the way you do, he's the reason why you became more confident in yourself. he's the reason why you're…you.

those moments where you don't feel like yourself, eren would notice right away. it could be the simple things, like you wouldn't text him back the way you usually do, or you're more quiet than you usually are. you've never had anyone in your life care for you as much as eren has. it scared you at first, and you were also very confused. you didn't understand how he could care for you this much in such little time.

you and him just had your first kiss -which was also your first time meeting, almost three months ago. in between that time, you grew as a person. who knew you could find yourself because of someone. he opened your world, showing you to follow your dreams, and live life to the fullest.

with a couple more shared kisses, you two were on your way to get some ice cream. this slowly became a tradition..in a sense. you both tend to learn more about each other when you have a bowl of ice cream. you got eren to open up about his past. his dad left him, leaving only him and his mom, and for years, he's had issues with trusting and opening up. in the little time you've known him, he's opened up more than he ever has with anyone.

it took him months to open up to the rest of his friends, but to him, there was something about you. with you, he felt safe. with you, he felt he could finally breathe for once without having to fake anything. every smile eren has with you is nothing but honesty.

everything felt like it was pulled out of a cliche love story.

"fine, i won't get vanilla this time." you say, ending in a slight giggle. you open the freezer door to grab mint-chip. when you closed it, eren smiled, "go on, get the vanilla." he rolled his eyes with a smile, you quickly put down the other flavor to grab vanilla, "god, i love you.." he mumbled, with a slight laughter. you almost dropped the pint, "you, what?"

eren's eyes widened, "n-nothing." he said quickly, as he walked to the next freezer case to grab his flavor while you stood there in shock.

he said that he loved you.

he loves..you?

"eren, do you love me?" you coughed up, walking towards him, "y-you. you said that you loved me." there was this brief moment where everything —background music, people talking, etc., went silent. it was just you and him. the space between you both slowly became smaller, watching a small smile grow on his face, his cheeks and ears turned a slight rosy color. "eren, did you say—” he cut off your words with his lips against yours, your heart started racing, chills were sent through out your whole body, your cheeks were getting warm.just from a kiss.

"i love you, y/n."

three words can change everything. those three words can define a future, it can change the way you see the person who says it. and your past taught and haunted you with.

eren said those three words in the middle of an ice cream aisle.

"love you so much." he replied. you dropped the pint of ice cream, placing your cold hands on his warm cheeks. you kissed him this time, his hands moved to your waist, his thumbs finding their place in the dips of your hips, "i love you more, eren." you whispered against his lips.

you kissed him again, for a slight second. eren looked around, "let's get outta here." you laughed, "why?"

you watched him pick up the dented pint — not caring about much of anything at this point but you, and putting it back on the shelf.

one moment you were in the frozen aisle, and the next you and eren were parked behind the grocery store.

you weren't dong anything sexual..yet, but right now, you were in the back seat of his car.

your lips collided with his, and it was this never ending feeling of love fueling your veins. "say it again," eren mumbled against your lips. you rolled your eyes, "eren, come on. i've said it like five times!" you giggled, giving him a quick peck, then feeling his thumb caress your cheekbone, "and i want to hear it over and over again. cause it still doesn't feel real." you grabbed his hand from your cheek, then placing it over your heart, "i love you, eren." this time, when you said it, you watched his eyes lit up. your heart started racing while repeating.

you finally got your cliche romance movie, and never in a million years did you think that your boyfriend would say that he loved you in the middle of an ice cream aisle. but he did. now, this moment, it was a memory. this moment in time will stick with you 'til the day you die.

maybe cliches aren't a bad thing after all…

present time; december eleventh, twenty-twenty-one

laying in bed with him feels different. it's not a bad different, it's knowing that tomorrow. you'll be sleeping alone again that brings this empty feeling in you. every time you tried to close your eyes, they would shoot right back open.

your mind wouldn't stop racing. what if he actually wasn't here in the morning? what if by time you wake up, these past days were just a memory? "hey, eren?" you whisper, watching his eyes flutter open.

shit. you woke him up, "hm?" he hummed. "no, no. go back to sleep." you whispered again. you began to roll over when his hand stopped you, "what's up?" gren said in a half sleep voice. you took a deep breath, "-can you hold me?" you said faintly.

he moved closer to you, you then place your head on his chest, feeling him wrapping his arm around you, "of course." he whispered, kissing the top of your head. you look up at him, "in case you're not here in the morning, i just. i just wanted to let you know that i love you so so much, eren." your eyes started to water, eren placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb collecting your tears, "i love you, y/n. i always have and i always will, i promise." you reached up and kissed him on the lips, "thank you for bringing me back."

waking up this morning was different to say the least, one moment you were in his arms, falling asleep to the sound of his heart beating, feeling your head rise up and down with the sound of him breathing, and next you were waking up to an empty bed.

general taglist: @aethrmist @haitanihime

ghost of you taglist: @the-princess-button @azuku23 @girlincrimson @riddleswh0r3crux

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 5

Harry confronts you with a familiar piece of suspiciously folded parchment, and you tell him the story of how you helped create it (mostly told through flashbacks taking place in the Marauders era).

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 5 .:Narrow Spaces and New Alliances:. 

Your eyes drifted open slowly, the bright streams of sunlight coming in through your window strangely unbecoming of 12 Grimmauld Place. It took you a moment to get your bearings as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and remembered where you were. As you sat there, looking around Sirius' guest bedroom, last night's events all seemed to flood back to you at once. You groaned into the comforter, feeling your face burn as you recalled blatantly staring at his lips just minutes after crying into his shirt for at least half an hour.

Come on, get it together, you thought to yourself, you're here because Dumbledore summoned you, stay on task.

However, as soon as that memory left your head another replaced it, this one weighing heavier on your chest. You found yourself thinking back to your encounter with Severus. Well, as much as you could call it an 'encounter.' Even when you couldn't see him, you could feel him when you reached out to him with your mind. Severus was good at blocking legillemency— too good, in fact, because you would know the familiar force of his mental shield anywhere. You'd never felt it as powerful coming from anyone else. You almost laughed at the irony of it; the very thing he was trying to use to keep hidden was exactly what had given him away. That, and the smell of him, which took you back to the moment you'd first smelled that damn amortentia potion. . .

You tried to shake off the thought as you properly got out of bed and changed into some casual clothes. The next Order meeting wasn't until tomorrow afternoon, so you had the day mostly to yourself, but you knew the next time you were all in a room together you would have to address some things privately if you had any hope of working together efficiently. You gently padded down the wooden stairs, the door to Sirius' room still closed. He never was an early riser.

As you reached the kitchen you began to put a pot of coffee on when you heard someone approach the room, stalling in the kitchen entrance. You turned around to see Harry in the doorway.

“Morning,” you grinned, turning back to the counter and using your wand to bring some water to a boil, “Coffee? Tea?”

“Oh,” Harry said, a bit embarrassed you'd caught him in mid-thought, “no, I'm okay.”

“What's on your mind?” you asked.

“Um, I was wondering if you could tell me, I mean, if you have the time. . .” he trailed off, reaching for his back pocket, “well, the thing is, a few years ago I found—”

“Kreacher heard sounds coming from the kitchen and did not expect (Y/n)'s return,” Harry jumped at the house elf's sudden arrival, but you seemed unphased.  

“Though master's half mudblood godson remains here,” the elf muttered to himself, “How many more days must it be?”

“Hello, Kreacher,” you greeted him, “nothing nasty about Harry, now, alright? Don't forget he's my godson too.”

“Of course,” Kreacher said, thickly sarcastic but with respect for you in his tone nonetheless. His permanent frown seemed to deepen, however, when he saw you next to the coffee maker. “(Y/n) of house (L/n) should not have to be using the kitchen. Mistress Black would have wept to see a pureblood use muggle equipment. If (Y/n) requires refreshment Kreacher will have it ready.”

“There's no need for that,” you said, “Besides, it's done already, see? You can go on now.”

Kreacher squinted at the cup you poured for yourself. “Always peculiar,” he grumbled, stalking away at your request and muttering to himself all the while.

“He's oddly. . . nice to you,” Harry said, green eyes quizzical behind his round-framed glasses.

“He is,” you chuckled.

“But, well, you're—”

“A blood traitor?” you gave him an easy smile when you saw his expression, easing his fears that he'd actually offended you. “I know,” you said, “he's been through a lot, it's complicated. Trust me, he wasn't always like this to me. It takes time. And it doesn't hurt to be nice to him either.”

Harry decided against bringing up that the nicest person that he knew to the house elf was Hermione, who Kreacher regularly called a 'mudblood wench,' but decided to focus on the 'taking time' part of your statement, wondering  just how long this kind of progress took with the spiteful elf. Besides, you seemed to have some sort of history with him.

“Anyways, what was it you were saying?” you asked Harry.

“Oh, right,” he said, reaching back around him, “um, my friends Fred and George, you've met them?”

“Molly and Arthur's twins, of course,” you smiled, “little imps, they are. Those two could give your father and Sirius a run for their money.”

“Right!” Harry said, “well, that's sort of the point. They're the ones who gave me this.”

As you turned around to face him you stalled mid-stir, nearly dropping your mug as you did. Even as a piece of blank parchment you knew what it was, the distinctive accordion folds that met in the center giving it away.

“How in the world. . .” you trailed off as Harry handed it to you, “but Filch—”

“Didn't do a very good job of hiding it, apparently,” Harry finished, “I thought you might want to do the honors?”

You nodded wordlessly, a pang of unexpected emotion hitting you as you pressed your wand to the map's center.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The faded, brown ink showed itself as its protection charm was washed away, revealing the nostalgia-inducing inscription scrawled in your respective handwritings:

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs are proud to present: The Marauders Map

“Do Remus and Sirius know you have this?” you asked Harry, who nodded.

“Professor Lupin gave it back to me third year before he left Hogwarts,” he said, “but he never told me anything about it after that.” he seemed deep in thought for a moment before looking up at you. “If everyone else is who I think it is, you're Fangs, right?”

It was your turn to nod now.

“I always wondered, how did you do it?” Harry said, hardly containing his curiosity, and you couldn't help but think how much he looked like James in that moment. “How does it work? What sort of magic did you use? All the secret passageways, how did you find them?”

“Alright, slow down,” you laughed lightly, giving in, “I suppose there's no harm in telling you.”

Harry brightened at that, bounding into the living room and taking a seat on the couch as if to say 'we've got all day,' which you did. It warmed your heart to see him so excited, this was one of the only ways he could get to know his parents— through the stories that remained from the people who loved them. If you could help the picture of his family in his mind become a bit clearer, you would tell him any story he wanted to know. He deserved that much after everything he'd been through.

You took a seat opposite him, still nursing your cup of coffee.

“Well,” you said, “it's a long story, starting with how bad those lot were at keeping secrets. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Run!” James half shouted half laughed as Filch hobbled after the four of them. Sirius nearly bit his tongue trying to keep in his laughter as the Caretaker slung insults and promises of punishment their way, cat ears and a tail freshly sprouted from his body.

“I can't believe we actually did that,” Sirius cackled, keeping easy pace with James.

“I can't believe you dragged me into this,” Remus panted, his current body not lending itself well to physical activity. For once he actually wished he was a werewolf right about now.

“I don't know if I can keep up,” Peter wheezed, falling behind.

“Oh come on,” James said, grabbing his sleeve and helping him run, “we can out run a gummy-legged old prat like him.”

“I don't know, he's faster than he looks,” Remus pointed out as Filch rounded the corner behind them.

“Damn,” James cursed under his breath, “we'll lose him if we can make it to the one-eyed-witch passageway.”

“We'll never activate it in time,” Remus countered.

“The hallway behind the third floor tapestry?” Peter suggested.

“No, Filch knows about that one now,” Sirius said.

“Why the hell didn't you bring your cloak?” Remus huffed.

“Well getting caught wasn't supposed to be part of the plan, but someone had to let out a laugh before we could get out!”

“Just save your air and sprint!” Sirius hissed.

The extended run time was starting to catch up to all of them now, and when they'd made a wrong turn to a blocked off corridor they thought they were done for.

“Hey, morons, over here!”

Four heads snapped towards the sound of your whisper, but you were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, one of the light pillars began to shift, revealing a large crack in the wall just big enough for them to fit sideways.

No questions were asked with no time to waste, and the four boys clamored after one another so they could fit inside. Your magic moved the pillar back in place just in time, and you watched from your hiding spot as Filch reached the walled-off passage in surprise, grumbling as he looked around for the culprits behind you. You had to stifle a snicker as his cat ears lowered; was that growling coming from the back of this throat or did you imagine that? Eventually he stumbled off in frustration and you sighed.

“Alright, the coast is clear,” you said.

“Why did you help us?” James rose a brow, that signature shit-eating grin back on his face like it never left, “you haven't fallen in love with me since our truce, have you?”

“Dream on, Potter,” you rolled your eyes, pushing him out of the crevice and smirking as he tumbled to the floor.

“It seems like I'm always saving you nowadays,” you said, stepping out of the wall yourself with the rest of the boys following.

Remus was thoroughly confused, looking pointedly between you and Sirius. He knew you and James were pretty much friends now, but he also noticed that the hostile air that always seemed to be present with you and the elder Black had diminished. He'd even seen you two talking in the halls lately. Sirius gave him a look; he would explain what happened in the forest with Lucius to Remus later. Mostly he didn't want to admit that Remus was right about you not being so bad if he gave you a chance; you had actually been getting on pretty well since that night.

“You do realize it's no fun winning the house cup when you four practically make Gryffindor ineligible every year with all the shit you get up to, right?” you chuckled, “some competition would be nice for a change.”

“We'll see if you're singing the same tune when Quidditch season rolls around,” James said smugly.

“You're right,” you said, squaring up against him, “guess that's a new competition we've got going for us.”

It had recently been announced that you and James had both been selected to play Seeker for your respective houses next year. It was an arrangement that had the whole school talking, your rivalry turned (mostly) friendship now infamous, even if it was a recent occurrence.

“Hold on, how did you know that was there?” Peter asked you, pointing to the moving column, “even we didn't know about it.”

“Oh?” you crossed your arms, “and are you four supposedly some kind of all-knowing secret masters? Because clearly there's things you don't know about yet.”

Sirius slapped a hand over Peter's mouth before he could retaliate and give away what they've been working on.

“Yes, well, apparently,” he said, ignoring Peter's muffled protests.

You looked at them curiously, all four boys looking suspiciously nervous.

The next day at breakfast, James had brought up the idea of 'hiring' you to help them finish the map.

“I'm telling you, I think we can really make progress with their help,” he pitched, “they clearly know what they're talking about, and we know they can pull a hell of a prank from all the times they've gotten me.”

“How do we know they won't tell anyone?” Peter countered, “I don't know what's up with you, but you're trusting them too fast, James.”

“They're not the type that would tell,” Remus admitted.

“Oh, not you too!” Peter whined.

“I'm just saying, they'll likely appreciate what we've gathered so far and have a fair bit to add,” Lupin insisted, “it could be worth a try if you really want to finish it before we graduate—”

“Finish what?”

The four boys jolted upright, turning to see you and Lily.

“Are you guys okay?” Lily asked, concern written across her features.

“Of course!”

“Never better!”

“Why wouldn't we be?”

Remus just groaned at his friends' panicked answers. This was hopeless.

You and Lily shared a knowing look off the the side.

“Alright, whatever you say. . .”

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

Harry laughed heartily,

“Wow, I mean, I know you said they were bad, but that bad?”

“For being expert pranksters who hardly ever managed to get caught, they were remarkably terrible at hiding things,” you said, chuckling along with him, “It didn't take us long to figure out they were up to something, although they seemed to think they were brilliant at covering it up, Remus had to burst their bubble eventually.”

Harry shook his head, smiling fondly and imagining all the scenes in his head as you continued your tale.

“So that was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they were hiding. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year, but we'll get to that part of the story later. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This tastes awful,” Sirius complained, trying to ignore the plant prodding the under-side of his tongue.

“Well if you were expecting treacle toffee I'm sorry to disappoint,” James rolled his eyes, equally nauseated by the bitter tinge of the Mandrake leaf in his mouth.

“There's no way someone can do this for an entire month,” Peter said, “How do you brush your teeth? What if you accidentally swallow it when you're eating?”

“You three have fun with that,” Remus chuckled, flipping through an old library book and his mouth gratefully leafless.

“How about some gratitude, Moony?” James said, “We're doing this for you.”

“Please, you just want to see if you can turn into a dragon or something,” Lupin chortled, “and you don't actually have to go through with all this. Who knows if this animagus stuff will actually work.”

“Well, a dragon would suit me,” James mused, “but of course we're going to see this through, mate. You know we'd do anything for you.”

Remus smiled to himself, not responding and not needing to. He knew.

“Hey guys,” you grinned, walking up to the Gryffindor table.

Peter gulped suddenly in surprise as you came up behind him, and his eyes widened in horror.

“Shit!” he coughed out, “I-I swallowed it!”

“Your. . . food?” you questioned, glancing over at the boys who all had that same, vaguely panicked look about them.

“Okay, it was funny at first, but you guys have been acting weird since last year and now it's worrying,” you admitted.

The four looked between themselves and came to a sort of silent conclusion. Maybe in this scenario it was better to tell one secret to keep the other. And so, later that night, they told you to meet them after lights out so they could tell you what was really going on. You snuck out of your dorm room and made your way through the secret tunnel to the Gryffindor common room, a route you'd taken plenty of times to mess with James.

You pushed a loose panel of wood open, coming into the warmly lit space through one of the cabinets. You pushed an armchair that was half blocking your path out of the way as you crawled through the space.

“Blimey!” Sirius jumped, “give us a heads up, would you?”

“Sush,” Remus scolded him, “you really don't understand the concept of an inside voice, do you?”

“Alright, well I'm here,” you said, brushing off your robes, “now what's this big secret? This better not be a trick because I've been working on a new hex.”

“Nothing like that,” James assured you, “we've been working on something we think you might be interested in, if you're willing to contribute.”

He stepped to the side so you could see the floor where they'd been huddled around and your eyes widened.

“Merlin,” you said. The red and gold carpet was covered in at least forty different pieces of parchment. Pages upon pages overlapped with each other, each messily detailing a different part and level of the castle in scribbles of smudged ink. “This is. . .”

“The entirety of the Hogwarts castle and surrounding land,” Sirius said proudly, “complete with secret passageways.”

“This is our lives' work, (Y/n),” James said, “be impressed!”

“What impresses me most is how none of you have any sense of scale,” you said, sifting through the papers, “you should really condense this. Kind of hard to make any use of a map if you have to flip to page thirty-three to find the kitchens.”

“Point taken,” Remus said, “it could do with some reorganization.”

“And probably a bigger piece of paper,” you mentioned.

“Right, that. . .”

“That's not all there is to it, though,” Peter said, “Sirius?”

The curly haired boy stepped forward, pressing his wand to the center of the floor.

“Revelare Popularis,”

You watched in wonder as hundreds of names suddenly appeared across the pieces of paper, all students and faculty you recognized. They were scrawled in Sirius' handwriting, as if he'd written them himself.

“This spell shows where everyone in any location on this map is at this very moment,” he said, “It's not exact, and we've been working on variations.”

“So you can plan ahead without getting caught,” you mused, “how'd you learn something as advanced as this, Black?”

“I get around,” Sirius shrugged, unabashedly showing off. Peter rolled his eyes.

“So, the only drawback, of course, is that the spell doesn't work in real time,” Remus said, “so by the time you get where you need to go. . .”

“People will have moved,” James finished, “we're willing to share this little trove of knowledge with you if you're willing to give up all the secret rooms, passages, and hiding places you know.”

“And we thought you may have a solution to our timing problem,” Remus said, “I could tell from our study sessions you quite enjoy learning ahead of your year.”

Your eyes scanned the pages, and you were admittedly impressed. There was ton of stuff on here you had no idea about, but you knew a fair amount was missing as well. It seemed like a fair trade.

“I'm in,” you said.

“What?” Peter blinked, “it was that easy?”

“This is a useful tool you've got,” you said, “I think we can all benefit from it being improved. And now that you mention it, I actually do think I've read about a similar spell to that paper charm. It was in some Gaelic tome in the restricted section on ancient magic. I'm not even sure it used a wand. It was called the Homunculus charm. From what I read it sounded like it acted as a live feed for people in any given location, clan leaders used it to plan ambushes and keep track of citizens. If we could link it to the entire castle. . .”

“We'd be able to see where everyone is—”

“And what they're doing—”

“—At every hour of every day!”

“True, albeit a bit stalkerish,” you quipped, “you let me in on this if I add in what I know, and you got yourself a deal.”

James put out his hand, and as tempted as you were to turn it green or make all the bones in it disappear, you reached out and shook it.

“I do believe this puts us in a formal alliance, Potter,” you said cheekily.

“I believe so,” James smirked.

“Terrifying,” Remus chuckled, “This school won't even know what hit it.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” James said with a cheshire grin, “let's steal ourselves a book, shall we?”

Read chapter 6 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @mialupin1

[skyler10fic]

Recruit: Ch. 4 Protocol

Summary: The transition from high school kids to future Shield agents kicks off with a camping trip--with an unexpected twist! And the slow burn causes sparks to fly.

Notes: *rubs hands together Whether you're here for plot or pining, hang on to your seats because here we goooo

Read on Ao3 | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3

----------

After Daisy’s 17th birthday, summer passed quickly, and yet, it couldn’t end fast enough for her. Every day, she worked at the dojo and read about cybersecurity and wrote programs to exploit it. She trained with her mom when she was home and hung out with Carol on the days in between. After the strangeness of their recruitment into the Secret Warriors—which they hardly dared speak aloud or even think about too strongly—they didn’t feel so awkward approaching each other. Knowing they would be learning and working together for at least the next four years made it easier to get to know each other at the dojo, and outside of the dojo, to bring each other into their friend groups.

Daisy’s friends were almost all juniors who would be going back to their same high school the next year, so it wasn’t the same as Carol’s group of seniors who were all going their separate ways and saying goodbyes and doing their “last”s together. But it was still odd, like Daisy was already an outsider to her own friends, and she realized that after this summer, there was very little she’d be able to share with them. Some because their experiences would be so different. But mostly because she was joining a secret spy organization and they just thought she was getting a computer science degree at the same university her dad taught at.

-------- 

Early one morning, Melinda and Daisy had the dojo practically to themselves. Light streamed in from the high translucent windows, catching on dust as Melinda taught her daughter different scenarios for how an enemy might attack in the field. Daisy was getting it, but only going through the motions as instructed, without her usual spark. 

After they were done, they sat on a pile of mats, sipping from their water bottles.  

“Where are you at today?” Melinda asked, bumping Daisy’s shoulder. 

“Huh?” Daisy zoned back in. 

“Yeah, like that.” 

“Oh, just,” Daisy sighed and wiped sweat from her brow. “Everything is changing, and there’s all these goodbyes, and I don’t even know what to say to my old friends. Like, I’m not going to be that far away, but it’s never going to be the same, you know?” 

“Do you think you’ll regret it, missing out on senior year?” 

“No! No, I’m not crazy. Shield’s where I want to be.” 

“But it does come with sacrifices, like not really having a normal life anymore.” 

“Well,” Daisy shrugged, “just a new normal.” 

Melinda nodded once and gave her a small smile. “I know what you need.” 

“What’s that?” 

“When change happens, we flow with it, not fight it.” Melinda stood and demonstrated with Tai Chi. Looking up at her, Daisy had a flashback to being very small, sitting on their living room floor and watching her mom early in the morning doing her Tai Chi before work, just to be with her and spend time together. 

“So,” Melinda continued, “what would be something for you that would mark this change, to flow with it?” 

“This is going to sound like a bad idea, but I swear it’s not,” Daisy rushed out, looking away in embarrassment about what a stereotype she was being. 

“Okay…” Melinda encouraged cautiously. 

“What if I cut my hair? Not super short, but like here.” Daisy demonstrated with her fingers as scissors a few inches below her chin. 

Melinda exhaled in relief. “I think that would look good. And make sense with the training you’ll be doing.” 

“Yeah, I figured even with it long, I’d be putting it in a ponytail most days anyway, so I might as well just have it shorter instead…” Daisy grew in confidence with her mom’s approval. “And maybe a little purple?” 

Melinda raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay, no purple. Yet. Just one thing at a time.” 

“I think that is wise.” Melinda retrieved her water bottle from next to Daisy and waved her up. “Shower time.” 

Daisy found herself playing with her hair more throughout the day as she worked the reception desk, but she perked up as Carol came in early for her class. She could never tell whether Carol knew she was flirting or if they were just friends and future teammates. 

The thought passed through her mind that she hoped Carol would like her new haircut when she got it. 

But then Carol made a reference to Maria, a place they used to go together before Maria moved, and Daisy shook herself out of her crush-fueled daydreams. Carol never gave away anything about her emotional state when talking about Maria. Daisy had picked up from context in previous conversations that Carol and Maria had, in fact, been in a romantic relationship and had broken up, but Carol still talked as if Maria was just someone she shared memories with, an old friend, not revealing how she really felt about the break up or what the circumstances had been or if she was normally into girls…. 

Carol left to join her class and Daisy realized there was still a lot she didn’t know about the girl of her dreams. Luckily, she had several years ahead of her to find out. 

------------------- 

Finally, the fall semester at Carter Academy began. Students moved into dorms, picked up schedules, took ID badge photos, and signed dozens of forms saying they would keep their spy training a secret. 

Phil and Daisy helped her friends move in, and as much as it ached to see the longing on her face, Phil knew it was for the best that they had decided Daisy would commute to campus with him for the first year. She had only just turned 17 in July, and being at home would allow her to spend more time with Melinda when she was there and Phil wouldn’t be totally alone when she wasn’t.

“But Jemma and Fitz are younger than me and they are living in the dorms!” Daisy protested. 

“Fitz’s mom lives in another country and Jemma’s parents live a few blocks from campus. Plus, we’re not Jemma and Fitz’s parents,” Phil pointed out. “You’re our responsibility.”

“It’s just for this year,” Melinda assured. “When you’re 18, you can choose, but for now… .”

“Win-win for everyone,” Daisy had sighed, not trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. 

“You can still have sleepovers, though. Bring your friends over, watch a movie, play board games… all the classics,” Phil offered. 

“I was thinking,” Daisy floated delicately, “maybe I could sleep over at their dorms sometimes?” 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, eat your dinner,” Melinda ended the conversation and that was that. 

Now, the four friends and their parents finished setting up Jemma, Carol, and Fitz’s dorm rooms, and the kids compared their schedules and asked Phil about the reputations of the professors they read off. Some he didn’t know, but for others, he could offer helpful tips or endorsements. 

The only class (besides the super-secret Program) that the four friends had together was Professor John Garrett’s survivorship class. Part of the strategic operations track, his class was required for all students. Each semester included a team-building exercise that was seen by some as more of a hazing ritual. At faculty meetings, Phil always advocated for a compromise: making it a final test with specific competencies so they could put in place what they had learned. But the faculty maintained that it was tradition, and the administration wasn’t keen on altering the academic schedule for the year. Garrett always chuckled at Phil’s arguments and those of others who felt it shouldn’t be done with freshmen at all. They would become proper cadets if they lasted through their first year, so why not wait until they had official cadet status? some argued. Garrett would stick his hands in his pockets and say it’s his class and that’s the way it’s done. “Builds character,” he’d always say and the matter would be tabled for another year. 

Now knowing his little girl would be going through it, Phil wished he could have been more convincing. Garrett’s lesson plan for the exercise simply said that he would take his freshmen to the woods for the weekend, teach them survival skills, observe their teamwork and weaknesses, and tailor his class to what they needed to learn. The reality was often that the freshmen came back looking haunted and wouldn’t speak of it. None complained, however, about the exercise or Garrett himself. 

When it came time for this year’s freshmen to go, Phil and Melinda drove Daisy to the bus stop early in the morning after a healthy breakfast. Phil asked her if she’d remembered each item on the packing list, and then Melinda quizzed Daisy on what she’d taught her until Daisy huffed “Mom, I get it. I’ll be fine.” 

Still, as Daisy got on board the bus, she turned around and gave her parents a little wave. It took everything in Phil to just wave back and let her go.  

--------------- 

Professor Garrett had the air of a football coach, but he was no fool of a spy. He hadn’t told them ahead of time not to bring electronics, so when the freshmen got off the bus and were told to turn in their phones, tablets, smartwatches, laptops, etc., to keep locked up in the bus’s luggage compartment, they had had no advance warning to sneak them into hidden pockets or disguise them as ordinary objects. The bus driver, a transport agent, assured them he would keep them safe and they would receive them all upon their return to campus on Sunday evening. The driver wished them well and drove away, headed back to Carter Academy. Several of the freshmen looked like they would rather have been riding home with him and their tech devices. 

Daisy had anticipated this from her talks with her parents, however, and had snuck into her dad’s collection of old spy gear after he’d gone to bed. She’d only taken a few duplicates, stuff that wasn’t too rare and was still functional and might be useful. She didn’t know whether Garrett was the kind to search their backpacks, so she’d hidden them in among her bras and underwear. Surely, at least in front of everyone, he wouldn’t be that creepy. 

No searches, though. In fact, after a hike through the forest and up a small mountain, there was not much of anything from him. He showed them how to filter the water from the stream near the campsite, and they refilled their water bottles. He instructed them on how to set up a campfire in their chosen clearing without burning the forest down. He appointed a few students in charge of the food rations, secured in a bear-proof container. 

“Keep that shut or you’ll attract wildlife. Anything you want besides that, you hunt or gather,” he directed. “Berries? Don’t die. Meat? Don’t die trying to kill it. Mushrooms? Better know what you’re doing or you’ll die.” 

“Or trip balls,” a bold freshman chuckled. 

Garrett chuckled. “Never said that was against the rules. The rule this weekend is ... say it with me, kids … don’t die. That’s right.” 

Around sunset, a rumble sounded in the forest. A few freshmen looked apprehensive. Another few grabbed for anything in their gear that could be used as a weapon. Most looked to Garrett. He seemed to enjoy observing their reactions. 

A large pickup truck appeared, bulldozing through the clearing, with a driver Daisy didn’t recognize. 

“That’s my ride.” Garrett fake-saluted and got in the truck. 

“But, you can’t just leave us here!” Jemma cried out. “You’re supposed to be teaching us.” 

“I don’t think that was the plan,” Daisy mumbled as she saw Garrett’s cocky grin. 

“The best learning is done by experience, Miss Simmons.” 

He met Carol’s angry glare. “Sweet dreams,” he said with a laugh. The truck drove off into the wilderness, leaving a dozen bewildered freshmen stranded in the swiftly approaching dark.  

“Well isn’t that nice,” Fitz said, his Scottish accent dripping with sarcasm. He gestured after the truck. “He gets to go to some cozy hotel, a nice cabin perhaps, and we get stuck out here.” 

“Alright,” Daisy sighed and addressed the circle of freshmen who were hovering and chattering. “Who here has been in Scouts, camping—anything, and knows what they’re doing?” 

A few hands went up, including Carol’s and Jemma’s. 

“Junior Astronomers club,” Jemma explained when a few people were surprised to see her hand up. “Have to get away from the light pollution.”

“I can set up the tents,” a young man volunteered, setting off a chain reaction. 

“I’ll help!” “Me too.” “What should I do?” 

“Let’s get some extra wood for this campfire,” Carol suggested.

“Excellent.” Daisy nodded. “We’ll need rotations to keep watch.”

“We can take the first shift, if that’s alright,” Jemma volunteered herself and Fitz, who was still looking put out by Garrett’s unexpected abandonment. 

Daisy and Carol volunteered to go next, and a few early risers volunteered for the dawn shift. 

As they organized and chatted and bonded until late in the night, Daisy noticed with a bit of unease how the others seemed to turn to her to make final decisions about their activities, as if they were asking for permission, or perhaps for her approval. 

Carol watched in amusement but didn’t say anything until they took their post to keep watch in the middle of the night. She sat down on a log in front of the fire, and Daisy followed.

“The way they were all looking to me…” Daisy started in a low voice, so as not to wake the others. 

“Well, you did speak up,” Carol pointed out. “And it’s a good look on you, leading.” 

“Thanks, but I think it’s because they know who I am. Which isn’t really fair, because until this summer, I didn’t know who I was, or you know, who my parents really were.” 

“I dunno.” Carol drew in the dirt with a stick. “Sure, maybe some of it is that they expect you to know more about this stuff because of your parents or having been practically born a Shield agent, but I think it’s just part of you. When I see you lead, it just… fits.” 

Carol’s eyes met Daisy’s in the light of the dim campfire. Sparks from the fire flew in the air. Daisy’s heartbeat sped up, and she momentarily forgot about her promise to herself to wait for Carol to make the first move. She didn’t respond, but leaned in closer, holding her breath as she waited for Carol to lean in too. Carol hesitated for a moment, but licked her lips and leaned in. 

A stick cracked in the forest and an owl hooted, breaking the stillness of the night.

Daisy leaned away and exhaled as Carol stood to attention and looked around the campsite. 

“Nothing,” Carol assessed. 

“Probably just animals.” Daisy swallowed and gathered her wits. “The night kind.” 

“Yeah.” Carol settled in next to Daisy again, but not quite as close.

“Soooo.” Daisy decided the best way to move past the awkwardness was to pretend their conversation hadn’t ended. “You raised your hand. Got one of those kinds of rough-it-in-the-wilderness dads, doing all the manly dad stuff?” 

“Oh... no.” Carol winced a bit, and Daisy internally kicked herself for making it even more awkward somehow. “Girl Scouts. Got pretty high up too. It’s not all just selling cookies and tying friendship bracelets, you know.” Carol bumped Daisy’s shoulder, and Daisy understood not to press on the dad issue. 

“Wow, and then the Air Force JROTC at school. Impressive,” Daisy praised. “Here you are telling me I’ve got leadership skills, when you’re all trained for this stuff.” 

“Yeah,” Carol breathed out a half-laugh and met Daisy’s eyes again. “Just think if we combined our powers.”

“For good, of course,” Daisy teased, “and a little trouble. When called for.”

“When called for, yes, absolutely,” Carol said in such fake seriousness that they both broke out in giggles.

“Leading together then,” Daisy summed up. 

“Together.” Carol nodded. She held out her hand and they shook on it, laughing again at the mock formality. 

A bat flew by above them and they both looked up. Daisy stretched back and admired the stars. There were so many more than they could see near the city. 

“It’s beautiful,” she sighed. 

“Someday I’m going to be up there.” Carol stated it as fact. 

“Shield has a space program?” Daisy furrowed her brow at how much she still didn’t know and looked over at Carol. Carol’s gaze remained upward. 

“Not yet. But it will.” A smile played at her lips. “And I’m going to be the first to sign up.” 

Something in Daisy ached to hear it, to think of Carol so far away, up in the stars without her, when they’d just agreed to lead together. 

“Then I’ll be the second.” Daisy said it so quietly, she wasn’t even sure Carol heard her. But Carol’s expression grew serious. Daisy wanted to ask what she was thinking but didn’t want to push, especially after such a vulnerable confession. Instead, they watched the first hint of dawn peek through the trees and color the sky. 

“That’s our signal.” Carol stood and woke the last watch team. Daisy found herself more tired than expected and gratefully climbed into her tent and sleeping bag for a bit more rest before the first day of survivorship truly began.

[ghost-of-you]

we just danced backwards into each other - ch - part 2

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character.

Warnings: Swearing, Lena’s favorite word may be fuck for all I know lol, also drinking. (I think this will be pretty standard throughout the story)

Word Count: 7,2k

Author's note: as usual, the italics are the flashbacks. And I'm borrowing writing credits from lie to me for Lena

Read it on AO3

part 1 part 3

Masterlist

___________

Lena runs into Ashton the day after she moved into her apartment in LA. Actually, he runs into her. Literally. She's just going around the neighborhood, trying to find where convenient things are when she turns the corner back into her street and they slam into each other. He holds her up and is apologizing when he recognizes her.

"L?"

"Hi," she scratches her neck, matching the confusion she's seeing in his eyes.

"What are you doing here? Are you looking for-" He trails off, frowning at her and she forces a smile.

"I live over there now," she points at her apartment building, and he looks from it back to her, the frown being replaced by a grin, making her more confused.

"No way," he shakes his head, but she nods, "I live there," he points to the big two-story house next to it.

"You're kidding me," she blinks at him a couple of times.

"No, Luke is there with me, Mike is about 8 minutes that way," he points down the street she just came from, "and Cal is on the next street," he points straight across from them.

"That's crazy."

"I know, what are the odds?"

"Shit, I'm sorry," Lena apologized, looking up at the person she had just tripped onto. She didn't expect to find brown eyes she had memorized and a slowly growing grin she hadn’t seen outside of her phone screen in almost a year.

"I see you're still just as clumsy as ever," Calum joked and she faked outrage.

"I'm not clumsy, these shoes are not meant for running," she says, throwing her arms around him, and breathing him in while he held her tightly. She let go of him, taking a step back, looking up, and letting herself take in all the little changes in him. He had a blonde streak in his hair that was very straight now compared to the last time she saw him. The moment she makes the comparison was when she remembered the last time they were alone and he was this close and she had to shake her head to avoid the thought. She can't go there. She's not allowed to mention it. It wasn't worth their friendship. He had apologized, and she had to move on.

"Then why are you running?" He asked and she cleared her throat.

"I have a date, kinda, I think, and I might be late," she told him, scratching her neck, and the smile on his face seemed to fade slightly.

"Oh, don't let me hold you then," he said, but she just smiled at him.

"How long are you here for?" She asked, trying to decide if she wants to reschedule. She missed him, she's not missing a chance to hang out with him. "I can totally-" she began to tell him, pulling her phone out of her pocket, but he interrupted her, shaking his head.

"At least another week, don't worry," he told her and her mind started making plans against her will.

"I'll call you and we can hang out later then?" She asked, looking hopeful and his eyes softened.

"Yeah."

"I have no idea," she tries to laugh, but it feels weird, "but you were probably going to do something and I'm having something delivered, so I need to go," she tells him and he nods.

"Call me later then, we need to catch up," he asks and she automatically nods.

"Yeah, I will."

"See you later then."

"Bye," she waves and turns around when it hits her.

"Ashton," she calls for him, turning back and he walks to her.

"Yeah?"

"I know he's your best friend and I have no right to ask you for anything," she starts, and by the look he's giving her, he probably knows where she's going, "but can you not tell him I'm here yet? It's just that things can get messy and I'm just getting situated and I'm supposed to go out to promo soon anyway and I," she's rambling, and she knows she's rambling, and she also knows she should probably breathe, but she can't.

"Lena, hey, breathe. It's okay, I get it, I won't tell him."

____

The universe hates Lena. It’s official. It hates her. There’s no way that there isn’t some higher force intervening and making things harder just for their amusement. Maybe it is a little self-absorbed to think that some entity is out there messing with her specifically, but it’s getting harder to think that there isn’t someone up there just laughing at her. There’s no way that it’s not a cosmic joke that her brand-new apartment, that’s somehow a short walk from the only person in the world she desperately wants to avoid, it’s already giving her problems. Maybe she should take it as a sign and leave while she still can. Not that she wants to. The apartment is highly convenient. It was maybe 10 minutes away from the studio, it has 3 bedrooms, one for Andy to move in after the promo tour, one that she’d already turned into a music room, 3 bathrooms, a great parking spot, tons of natural light, a kitchen that actually works, she has her own bathtub for fucks sake. She had to move back into an apartment that was just a step up from the dorms to finish school, so this was heaven.

Of course, heaven wouldn’t have her up at ungodly hours - to her - because of repairs. She’s not even awake enough to listen as the syndic tells her there’s some problem with the pipes, actually, did she say pipes? Maybe it was with the gas line, and they needed the building to be evacuated. Obviously, the idea of moving in before the tour was proving to be even more idiotic by the second. She needed the change, but was it all really worth it? Sure she got the song she was searching for to finish the album, but now she’s hastily packing and searching hotels for her to stay in for her second official week in this stupid town.

The uber app is loading after she gets the address of the hotel she stayed in while searching for a permanent place to live when a voice calls her name. She’s still slow from sleep and it’s searching around herself when she sees Ashton approaching her.

“Oh, hi, Ash,” she greets him, squinting at the sun hitting her eyes from right behind him. Seeing him doesn't throw her off anymore, she had run into him at least once a day since that first time. She guessed it came with the whole neighbors’ thing. She even had breakfast with him and Luke once. And so far, it looked like he had kept his word and not told Calum.

"You going somewhere?" He asks, looking at her bag.

"Not exactly? The building is evacuating, I'm just going back to the hotel and wait it out," she shrugs, showing him the uber request on her phone.

"You're staying with us," he says and she shakes her head.

"There's no need, the hotel is actually really nice," she begins, but he interrupts her.

"It wasn't a question, come on," he tells her, taking her bag and moving towards his house, leaving her no choice but to follow.

****

"But you gotta let me braid your hair," Lena's words sound slurry to her as she leans back on the couch, and Luke giggles, looking at her with amusement.

"Why do you wanna do my hair?" He asks and she leans forward, her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands.

"Excuse me? Have you seen it? It's gorgeous," she tells him, who continues to laugh at her. It is true, she had been fascinated by Luke's curls since she saw him a few days before. But now, in the middle of the night and half a bottle of tequila in, Luke has to physically dodge her as she tries to touch it.

"It's just long, L," he shrugs and runs his hands through the front of it, to brush it off his eyes.

"See, it's in your eyes, if you let me braid it, it won't be in your eyes," she's begging now, but she doesn't care, looking at him with puppy eyes.

"Fine," he fakes annoyance.

"Yay," she exclaims, making him laugh and moving towards him on the couch and sitting on top of the rest directly behind him, settling in so his back is between her legs. He's so tall that she barely has to lean forward to run her hands through his curls.

Lena's too focused on Luke's hair, the movements, the over, more hair, under, more hair, over, more hair, under, that she doesn't notice Ashton watching them until he speaks

"Glad to see you're feeling at home," he teases, and she can't help but laugh. She's been feeling better in these few hours than she had in weeks, months even.

“Why the hell are you guys in a bus?” Lena asked, sitting down next to Calum in the back of the tour bus.

“What’s wrong with the bus? We love the bus,” Michael looked outraged at her from Calum’s other side, putting the controller down and she laughed.

“It’s a bus.”

“Okay, it’s a bus with a ps4 and a fridge, it’s an amazing bus, don’t trash talk the bus,” he narrowed his eyes at her, which looked so much greener now with the bright red in his hair, and she raised her arms defensively.

“Sorry, I didn’t think that the bus was such a sensitive subject,” she chuckled and Calum offered her a controller.

“Wanna play?”

“Oh, you miss getting your ass kicked?” She teased, playfully shoving his ribs with her elbow.

“He’s still getting his ass kicked,” Michael teased and Lena grinned, reaching forward, to fist pump him and Calum rolled his eyes.

“I’m better than her,” Calum protested and the other two scoffed.

“No you’re not,” Michael and Lena said in unison, “Mike is better than me,” she told him, pointing at Michael, “you’re not better than me,” she shook her head, taking the controller from Calum’s hand.

“Did I mention I like the blonde?” Lena asked, later that evening, when they were alone, still in the back of the bus, sitting with their sides pressed together, leaning back on the couch, his hand resting on her tight, and she ran a hand through Calum’s hair when he looked at her, watching the blonde streak in between her fingers.

“No,” he chucked, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“I like the blonde.”

“Me too,” he agreed, his head resting on top of hers.

“You know what? The bus is quite homey,” she said, closing her eyes and moving her hand so she could wrap it around his arm, pulling herself closer to him.

“It is, when you get your own bus, you’ll also want to stay in it.”

“My own bus?” She moved her head so she could look at him, “I’m a college kid now, sweetheart, I’m not gonna need a bus,” she chuckled and he furrowed his brows at her, “I’m gonna play at the campus coffee shop, maybe get another one of those clubs to let me play, but I’m never gonna be a musician like you.”

"Not with that attitude, you won’t," he said, poking her ribs and she squeaked, pulling away and pouting at him.

"His hair was on his eyes," she says, sheepishly, and leans forward, one hand holding the ends of Luke's hair and the other reaching for the hair tie on his wrist, "see, braids are highly convenient," she tells him, sliding down back to the couch next to him and reaching for her glass in the coffee table.

"They're also hard to make."

"You can learn, Mr guitarist, you’re good with your fingers,” she teases, and the boys look at her, before she gasps, realizing what she said, “oh my God, that came out so wrong.”

“Yeah,” they are laughing at her, and she’s laughing, and for a while, she doesn’t even remember how hard things had been and how Luke’s blue eyes sometimes showed the same emptiness that hers did whenever she looked in a mirror.

"What even happened between you and what's her face?" She asks, looking at Luke, knowing it’s probably a question he doesn’t want to answer, but her hazy mind is too curious.

"She's a lying bitch that's what happened,” Ashton answers and Luke shoves him.

“Ash, be nice,” Luke tells him, nodding slightly before shrugging at Lena, “he’s right, though. What even happened between you and he who must not be named?" He asks in return, and both he and Ashton watch her waiting for her response.

"Nothing happened between me and Voldemort," she jokes, giggling to herself.

“Really?” Ashton asks, pinching the bridge of his nose while Luke rolls his eyes.

"I can't say his name, his name makes you sad."

"He makes me sad," she says, leaning further back into the pillows on the couch, sipping her drink.

"What happened?" Luke asks again, and she sighs.

"I'll tell you when I find out," she says, thinking about how much time she's spent trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. Her best guess was that phone call where they agreed to pretend nothing had happened. It seemed like the only explanation. The denial was the first strike. It all went downhill from there.

"Michael, I'll keep calling all of you until someone gets him to talk to me, don’t make me find a way to fly to fucking London, because I will," she told him and he sighed.

She waited, listening while Michael said "Just take the fucking phone, mate, please."

"Hello?" Calum’s voice came through the phone and Lena had hoped it would make her feel better, but it actually only made her angry.

"So you do know how to use a phone?" She asks, and he sighed.

"Yeah."

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not," he started, but she interrupted him.

"Don't deny it."

"It's just," he trailed off, and Lena’s panic was rising again.

"Is it because of the kiss? 'Cause if you need me to pretend it never happened, it's done, it never happened, it will never be brought up again," she started rambling and he grunted, making her stop.

"It's not that simple.”

"Of course it is, I don't care about the kissing, I care about you and I can't have you dodging my calls just because you think it's awkward when I can't show up and show you how stupid you are for avoiding me," her voice was getting higher, and her words were getting out of her control and maybe she should breathe but she just can’t.

“I just made things confusing.”

“It’s not confusing, it was just a kiss,” she whimpered, but she could picture him shutting her down so clearly it terrified her.

“Lena, I,” he started and she had to close her eyes to stop herself from crying.

“Calum, please, I love you, but I can live with never kissing you again, I can’t live with you not talking to me,” she was begging, and it felt ridiculous to her to do that but she can’t stop.

“You keep saying you love me and I’m supposed to just pretend nothing’s happening?” He asked and she felt the air leaving her lungs while she tried to figure out what to say next.

“Shit, I, I didn’t, it’s not like that.”

“Of course it’s like that, Lena, there’s no other way to spin this situation,” he argued, and the tears were getting harder to fight.

“Calum, please, don’t read too much into this, lets just pretend it never happened, all of it, I can’t lose you.”

“Lena, I can’t do this-”

“Stop,” she interrupted him before he could continue.

“What?”

“No! You don’t get to pull this shit on me. You kissed me, okay? You did that, what the fuck did you think was gonna happen?”

“I was confused, I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“Nice.”

“Come on.”

“You come on, Calum, you think this is not confusing for me? You kissed me and started dodging me, I’ve been feeling like shit for the past week and all you got to say to me is that you’re confused? So let me make it real easy for you, my feelings for you? It was clearly a lapse of judgment, no need to worry about it, so why don’t you give me a call when you decide to get your head out of your ass and stop being a jerk,” she hung up the phone, the knot in her throat making her eyes water while she stared at the phone in her hands. Calum called her back not 5 minutes after.

"What?" She barked at the phone, the back of her hands whipping the angry tears that she can't make stop falling.

"I'm an asshole," he said, apologetically.

"Good, we agree on something," she sniffed and he sighed.

"I'm sorry, I really am.”

"Calum," she tried to say something, but the words were slipping away from her as she also tried to get her breathing under control.

"No, I fucked up, can we just agree to pretend I didn't do anything? Get things back the way they were?" He begged, and Lena wanted to protest, she really did, but she had offered him that, and what she had said was true, she could live with never kissing him again, she wasn't so sure she could live without him.

"You did something?" She joked, feeling her heart sink as she tried to laugh.

"You'll tell him you're here?" Luke's voice brings her back to reality and she frowns at him for a second while the question sinks in.

"Eventually," she shrugs, pulling her sleeves over her hands, and Ashton excuses himself.

"Hypothetical question," Luke starts, and she frowns at him.

"Shoot."

"Would you take him back?" He asks and she sighs.

"We were never officially together, so I wouldn't be taking him back," she shrugs, and he frowns at her.

"You know what I mean," he says, and she stops to consider the question.

"In this hypothetical world, is he all in?" She asks and he nods.

"Yeah."

"Then I’d do without a second of hesitation."

"That bad huh?"

"He's the love of my life, Lu, I just wished he lied about me not being his," she shrugs and he looks at her as if something had suddenly made sense.

"Shit, that's it," he says, suddenly getting up, and moving to the piano in the corner.

"What?" She follows him, stoping behind him on the bench.

"I've been messing around with this song," he starts playing what seems like a well-rehearsed melody.

"When I ask you if you love me I hope you lie," he sings this one line, and she shakes her head trying to understand what he’s doing.

"Wait, turn back, what else do you have?" She asks and he glances back at her, before looking back at the keys and starting over.

"And now I wish we never met, cause you're too hard to forget,” he hums like he’s not sure what words to sing next, “I know he's taking off your dress," and she thinks of something.

"Wait, start again," she says, taking her phone from her pocket, opening the chat with Luke, and setting a voice message, and he glances at her for a second before starting over again.

"And now I wish we never met, cause you're too hard to forget.”

"While I'm cleaning up your mess," she adds while he hums and he nods along.

"I know he's taking off your dress."

"And I know that you don't but if I ask you if you love me," they sing it together and Lena can’t help but smile, despite the sad lyrics. "I hope you lie."

"Lie lie lie, lie to me," he finishes, and she finishes the recording, sending it to him while he turns around to look at her. "Shit, I think we should record this cause I'm not sure I'm gonna remember it in the morning."

“I already sent you,” she tells him and he grins at her,

“You’re awesome.”

“I know,” she winks at him, “play everything you have, I know you don’t have just this chorus.”

To say that Luke’s singing the most heartbreaking song Lena has heard in while would be a lie. She didn’t even notice she’s crying until he stops playing.

“You good there?” Ashton asks her, stopping by her side, startling her, she hadn’t even noticed he had come back and she wipes her eyes nodding, while he rubs her back in a comforting motion.

“Can you release this song so I can have a breakdown in the shower to it?” She asks and they laugh.

“I need to finish it first,” Luke shrugs and she remembers something.

“Speaking of breakdowns, you wanna hear my album? I just got the final version,” she asks them, looking between the two of them and shaking the phone in her hand.

“Why did breakdowns make you think of your songs?” Ashton asks, laughing at her.

“It’s a sad album,” she shrugs at him and he takes her phone to connect it to the sound system.

_______

"What the fuck?" Calum's voice wakes Lena up and she opens her eyes to find Ashton standing in front of him, blocking the door, a hand in his chest to stop the younger man from storming into the room.

She understands how it looks, feeling Luke's solid form and steady breathing behind her and the weight of his arm on her waist along with the blanket Ashton probably placed on top of them after they had fallen asleep. She also doesn't want to move just to explain to Calum what was actually happening. Or to talk to him at all for that matter.

"Mate, calm down," Ashton tells Calum, who’s trying to go around the blonde and into the room and she stays still, pretending to be asleep, watching the scene unfold through her hair.

"Why is she? What did they?" Calum asks, getting more worked up by the second, struggling to finish the questions and Ashton gives him a pointed look.

"You really think either one of them would do this to you?" he returns, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Why is she on your couch, Ash?" Calum asks in almost a whimper, apparently having calmed down enough to know what question he wants the answer to the most, and Ashton drops his hand to his side.

"I guess taking in broken-hearted strays is what I do now," he jokes but Calum only glares at him, "she's living in the building next door, there was a plumbing problem or whatever and she couldn't stay there for the weekend, and I wasn't going to let her go to a hotel when I have the space and she would be close if they needed to check something with her."

"But," he starts but gets interrupted.

"She asked me not to tell you, and you can't blame her for not wanting to see you," Ashton explains, and Calum groans.

"I don't understand how this relates to her cuddling Luke."

"At some point in the night they started writing a song and then we listened to her album and it must've stirred some feelings 'cause there were a lot of tears and then they fell asleep like that," Ashton explains and she stiffens a chuckle when he points to a box of tissues laying on the floor still in her reach.

"The song, was it for us or for her?"

"Does it matter?"

"How long has she been here?"

"Here, LA? a few weeks, I think," Ashton says, scratching his neck and Calum’s eyes widen.

"Weeks?"

"She didn’t want you to know yet, look, mate, you need to go," Ashton tells the younger man and he just shakes his head.

"No, I need to talk to her," Calum protests, moving to go around Ashton again, making the older man raise his arm to stop him again.

“You can talk to her some other time.”

“Why are you taking her side?”

“I’m not taking sides, but given the fact that she’s asleep and currently depending on me for a place to do that, I can’t let you storm in and make her feel like she can’t be here,” Ashton tries to reason with him but Calum seems to be switching into the defensive.

“I wasn’t,” he tries but Ashton interrupts him.

"I don't know everything that went down between the two of you, but I do know that last night was the first time I've seen her laughing since the tour ended, and I'm not about to let you ruin this for her."

"But-"

"That was last year, Calum."

"How do you even-?"

"She's only avoiding you, and she's worse at hiding her feelings than she thinks she is."

"But-"

"She'll talk to you when she wants to, don't do this to her now," Calum drops his head and Lena watches as he turns around and Ashton follows him. When she hears the front door closing, she slowly moves Luke's arm to not wake him up and goes to find Ashton.

"You didn't have to do that," she tells him when she sees him walk into the hallway that leads to the living room and he gives her a puzzled look, "I'll have to talk to him eventually," she says, pressing her lips together and his expression softens as he walks closer to her.

"I think you deserve the chance to do that on your own terms," he says, a hand reaching for the bass necklace hanging on the front of her hoodie, which was also Calum's at some point in the past, and he gives her a sad look like he knows what it meant that she can’t let it go. Why she still walks around in his clothes, why she keeps the necklace close to her heart even through all the pain.

"Thank you," she looks up at him and he nods, caressing her hair.

"He really didn't tell you what happened between us?"

"Not all of it," he shakes his head and she purses her lips, nodding, "Do you wanna go get breakfast?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Lu to wake up?"

"Oi, Hemmings," Ashton calls from the door, and Luke grunts sitting up, "breakfast," he adds and Luke rubs his eyes and gives them a thumbs up, making Lena laugh. "There you go," he said, grinning at her.

____

When Lena turns in the aisle and sees Calum she almost just leaves her cart and walks away, but then he sees her, and the look in his eyes tells her that he was angry at her for getting him kicked out of his best friend’s house. So she pushes the cart to the corner and walks closer to him, rubbing her neck.

“I didn’t ask him if I could stay there,” she starts, feeling apologetic, and not sure of what to do, “he saw me waiting for the taxi and he,” she tries to explain, but he interrupts her.

“You didn’t have to accept,” he snaps and she purses her lips annoyed but almost amused.

“Have you ever tried to say no to Ash?” she scoffs, half expecting him to also find the idea ridiculous, but he just shakes his head.

“Whatever, Lena,” turning back to the shelf he was looking at before she showed.

“They’re my friends too,” she argues, frowning at him.

“Sure,” he says, still not looking at her.

“Why are you angry at me? I needed a place to,” she starts to defend herself but changes her mind, she doesn’t owe him anything, “no, you know what? I’m not doing this, see you never, Calum,” she tells him, walking back to her cart.

Lena knew she shouldn’t be getting her hopes up. She knew Calum wouldn’t admit they were a thing, even if he reached for her hand when they were walking side by side or pulled her closer when they were hanging and kept his arm around her, but at that moment, wearing the flannel he had worn on stage, sitting in his lap, his arms around her waist, her face hidden in the crook of his neck while she tried to catch her breath after the joke Ashton had just made, her feelings were getting out of control. Maybe if it really was all about the sex, she could be fine, but she couldn’t remember if he was that touchy before everything had changed, so she didn’t know how to feel anymore. Sure, he would reach for her and she would let him, even before and back then it would sometimes make her flustered or give her butterflies, but now every time he touched her it felt like every nerve on her body was on fire.

And she also knew that when they went back to the hotel and they said goodbye by his door and he smiled at her after she kissed his cheek, and he held her hand pulling her back to him, she'd let him pull them into the room and her feelings were going to just continue to grow, but it was all too good to stop. She didn't wanna stop, because some part of her thought that it was just a matter of time.

“Shit, L, wait,” he seems to snap out of the anger and reaches for her arm stopping her.

“Can you stop with the grabbing my arm thing?” she snaps at him, pulling her arm out of his grip.

"I don’t wanna fight,” he says, raising his arms in defense and she rolls her eyes.

“You sure? ‘Cause you looked ready to go a round or two,” she says, motioning vaguely around them and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry, I’m tired, and seeing you threw me off, you shouldn’t have to explain anything."

“No, I shouldn’t,” she says, crossing her arms in front of herself and moving back to the cart.

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved here?” Calum asks, trailing her and she sighs, looking at him.

“I told you I’d be done in 6 months.”

“But,” he protests and she runs a hand through her hair.

“I didn’t wanna tell you, okay?”

“I just thought, I don’t know, maybe,” Calum’s talking and he has this look in his eyes that makes Lena stop thinking rationally and just do what he’s asking and she tilts her head, looking away trying to avoid his effect.

“Sweetheart, I don’t wanna do this right now,” she says, looking down at the cart and deciding she doesn’t want to be there anymore.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't, look, I gotta go," she tells him, turning away and leaving him there.

_____

“Ash, Lu, are you guys here? I think I forgot my charger,” Lena closes the front door behind her, and walks in, looking around, “Ash?” She calls again.

“In the kitchen,” Ashton calls for her, and she makes her way through the hall.

“I think it is still in the-” her words get lost to her when she sees Calum sitting next to Ashton at the counter. “Oh, hi,” she scratches her neck, while he raises a hand in a greeting motion, and her eyes can’t move away from Calum’s, who’s watching her too, “I didn’t mean to barge in but my phone died and my charger is here so I couldn’t call and-”

“L, breathe,” Ashton chuckles, and she clears her throat.

“I’m gonna go check the room then,” she points behind her, and Ashton nods, but she keeps looking at Calum, before shaking her head and spinning in her heels, and going to the room.

She finds the charger under the bed, and when she gets up, she finds Calum leaning into the door frame.

"Lena, can you please talk to me?" Calum begs, stepping into the room and she groans.

"I can't talk to you," she says, sitting down in the bed while he closes the door and burying her face in her hands.

"Why not?" He asks, voice sounding worked up, and something inside her snaps.

"Because I can't talk to you, Calum," she gets up, matching his tone and stepping closer to him, "I can't look at you, I can't be in the same room as you, I can't do this," she argues, motioning between them, frustration slowly replacing everything else in her body, as the closeness starts to make her mind fuzzy.

“You’re in love with me?” Calum asked and all she could do was nod.

“It doesn’t change anything, you don’t live here anymore, and it will go away,” she started, voice going higher as she rambled trying to make the situation seem less terrible but he cut her off.

“How long?”

“It doesn’t matter."

“How long, Lena?” He repeated with a certain anger in his insistence that made her run a hand through her hair, trying to stay calm.

“It doesn’t change anything,” she whimpered, and he gave her a disbelief look.

“Of course it does,” he said, the anger starting to show in his tone and making her want to disappear.

“Calum, are you still leaving tomorrow?” she asked, mimicking his tone, which seemed to disarm him, the frustration in his face being replaced by something she can't read while she matched his glare.

“Yes," he answered, determined and yet defeated, the heat in his words completely gone.

“Then nothing has changed,” she pointed out, biting the inside of her cheek, while Calum sat beside her, opening and shutting his mouth as if he couldn't find the right words.

“But,” he tried, his voice was soft now, and Lena knew what was going through his head, while he reached for her hand.

“No, sweetheart, I’m gonna stay here, and I’m gonna go to college, live an ordinary life, while you gonna go out and conquer the world because you’re too good to be hung up on,” me, she adds in her head as she trailed off, way to calmly, considering how much the idea of living life without him hurt her, how much it has hurt her since they moved. At that moment she knew she had to say the things that would make him let go of her.

“That’s bullshit."

“No, that’s life," she shrugged, "we don’t always get what we want."

"No, that's just unfair," Calum said, sounding annoyed, staring at Lena with an intensity she didn't recognize.

“I don’t know, maybe someday, when we’re older and the band has broken up because one of you went all diva, I’ll meet you in a bar somewhere across the world and we can see where life takes us,” she offered, trying to get him to stop looking at her like she was somehow destroying all his dreams.

"You really think that?"

"I don't know, I just know you can do anything you want."

"Why not?" He asks, with a pleading look on his face as he steps closer to her and she can feel her resolve starting to slip away, now that she can smell his cologne and he’s close enough for her to just want to fall into his arms.

"Because you look at me, with the face and the smile and the soft brown eyes and I can't think,” she whimpers, looking up at him, and her breath gets caught in her throat, ”I can't think, I can't breathe, I can't remember what happened, and-"

"That's good, that-" he tells her, a hand reaching for her cheek and she leans into it and closes her eyes, before interrupting him.

"No, it's not,” she says, her hand closing around his hand and sighing, before pulling it away from her face, but not letting go of it while she let her arm drop between them, “I need you to let me not feel this way before you talk to me."

"Lena, that's," he tilts his head, eyes softening, while he wraps their fingers together.

"Sweetheart, if you push, I'll crack. Please don't stand there, with the sad eyes and the hurt look, because I can't take it,” she’s pleading now and he looks speechless.

"I-"

"You're sorry and you miss me, I know,” she says, letting go of his hand and taking a step back, hoping that if she’s not so close, she’ll be able to clear her head, “and God knows I miss you too, but I can't do this right now. Don't make me do this right now."

“But, maybe, we can, I don’t know, we can try, please let me try to make this right,” he’s tripping over his words now and she can’t take it anymore.

“Sweetheart, what do you want from me?”

“I want,” he starts but doesn’t finish and she runs her hands through her hair and takes another step back, crossing her arms in front of her.

“What do you want from me?” She repeats and more questions start to form as he looks at her, “Why are you standing there looking at me like that? Why are we doing this?”

“I don’t know, I just hate the way things are,” he says, sounding defeated and she closes her eyes, dropping her head and taking a deep breath.

“Then what do you want me to do? We can’t go back to the way things were,” she says, looking up at him standing in the middle of the room.

“But we can try to be friends.”

“Friends?” The word tastes bitter in her mouth, “what does that even mean, Calum?”

“You’d stop running away,” he pleads, and she can’t stop the chuckle that she lets out.

“I’m going on tour next week, so I’m kinda gonna have to,” she jokes, more instinctually than anything else and he just stares, frowning at her.

“Really?” He asks and she presses her lips together to stop herself from laughing.

“I still don’t get what you want from me,” she says, sitting back down on the bed.

“I want,” he clears his throat and she looks down, letting her forehead rest in her hand while she thinks.

“Okay, look,” she starts, looking at him again, “I’m gonna go out on tour, and you're gonna go on tour before I’m back, so when we’re both back, I’ll stop running the other way whenever I see you, and that’s the best I can offer right now.”

______

"So, Lena, a lot of the songs on your new album are about this heartbreaking love," the interviewer starts and she nods a 'yeah' while they continue, "and you wrote all of them."

"I had a lot of help," she shrugs, trying to feel keep calm.

"How was the process of writing that?" she asks and Lena exhales, thinking of an answer.

“I was actually working through some feelings and I was just sitting at home and writing was my attempt to process that, and I built this whole narrative around it so I was focused on the meaning behind everything and I was driving Andy crazy.”

"Andy is your guitarist, right? He also has writing credits on most of your songs," the interviewer comments, and Lena is nodding while she talks.

"Yeah, he's my roommate too, so I would walk into his room in the middle of the night 'cause I had a thought about a chorus or a verse or a riff or even just this abstract concept and he just rolled with it, and most of the songs were about all the feelings I could have about this one situation."

"This breakup?" They ask and Lena chuckles.

"Well, we never really dated," she jokes, her laugh getting harder to control.

"But you still wrote all of that about him?"

"I know, pathetic right?" She’s still laughing and the interviewer is smiling awkwardly at her.

"And he doesn't know?"

"Oh, he knows, there’s no way he doesn’t."

"At least the heartbreak is paying the bills," they joke and Lena nods.

"Absolutely, who needs love anyway?"

_____

“I need to ask,” the interview says and Lena knows where the question is going, “who’s it about?”

“I can’t answer that,” Lena chuckles awkwardly, trying to shake the annoyance she’s starting to feel.

“Come on, give us something,” she pushes, and Lena presses her lips together in an attempt at a smile.

“I legally can’t say anything, I don’t want him to sue me,” she tries to joke, and the interviewer just looks at her before changing the subject.

“And you’re still friends with 5 Seconds of Summer?” She asks, leaning forward and Lena is properly annoyed.

“I am, Luke and Ashton were actually the first people outside of my team to listen to the full thing,” she tries to divert the conversation back into her music, but she’s interrupted.

“So it isn’t about one of them.”

“No,” she says, dryly, and she knows she’s lying, but she’s currently trying not to walk out.

“Is he famous?”

“Why is this relevant?”

“We just wanna know the tea,” she says, motioning around.

“There’s no tea, I created a story to write an album, whatever real-life inspiration is not exactly relevant, ‘cause it’s not all real, it’s just inspiration,” she tries again to get out of the topic of who’s the songs about.

“So you won’t give us anything?”

“No,” Lena says, smiling sarcastically.

____

"But it's a story about unrequited love," one of the interviewers protests, and Lena laughs, adjusting the headphones in her head.

"I think it may give this impression, but It's not unrequited, It's worse actually," she explains.

"How is it worse? Loving someone that doesn't love you it's awful," they ask and Lena nods.

"I agree, but it's not like the girl is begging to be loved back, because he does love her, it's just that he doesn't know how to love her in the right way and that just makes it all so much more painful because she's standing there watching him leave knowing that she's what he sees when he thinks about the future, but still he doesn't know how to keep her close through the madness in his life, so he keeps hurting her, because how do you even begin to walk away from something that feels so real while you can't figure out how to love them through the turmoil in your head? So they end up trapped in this cycle trying to learn how to love each other or just how to live without the other, and she thinks hating him could make things easier but at the end of the day she just wants him to let her love him,"

“You seem to have thought a lot about it.”

“Oh, I have their whole story written down and everything, ‘cause I wanted to make sure the story I was telling made sense.”

“That’s actually very interesting, why did you decide to actually write the story?”

“It all started as a bit of a mess of feelings, and as I was going through everything I had, I thought it would be easier to make sense of what I was trying to say if I knew what story I was trying to tell.”

“Do they get together in the end?” They ask and Lena smiles, shrugging.

“That remains to be seen.”

_______________________

I don't have a taglist but if you want to be tagged in the following parts, hit me up.

[cali-holland]

Forever and Ever, Ch. 1: The Proposal

Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series

With the help of Harrison and Charlotte, Tom picks out the perfect ring for you, and now the time’s come for the perfect proposal.

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing, a lil bit of blood/violence and kind of an abusive ex? (it’s a flashback though)

Word Count: 4100

Series Masterlist

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

“We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen still

So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet

You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home”

Photograph, Ed Sheeran

~~~

“How’s the online shopping coming?” Harrison asked, strolling into the living room when he knew you were away at work the next day. Tom let out a frustrated groan, throwing his head back on the couch.

“There’s too many choices! I don’t understand how there can be so many shapes.” Tom stated and Harrison sat beside him to look at the engagement ring website on Tom’s laptop.

“I believe they’re called cuts.” He laughed, looking over the categories and images. “God, you’re right. How are there so many options?”

“This makes no sense.” He sighed, “How do I know which one Y/N would like the most?”

“Might sound cheesy, but I think she’d say yes even if you gave her the shittiest ring.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” Tom rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Why not go in person tomorrow? Y/N will be at work anyway.” Harrison suggested, standing from the couch.

“I don’t really want paparazzi to find out, but I guess I have no choice.” He paused, “Do you think you could come with me?”

Harrison laughed, turning back to his friend. “You’re talking to the wrong sibling. I’ll call Charlotte and see if she can go with you.”

By the time you got home from work, Tom had cleared out his search history to make sure there was no evidence of his ring shopping. You had no clue anything was up, even when you saw that your younger sister texted him while you two got ready for bed that evening.

Spotting his phone light up on the bedside table just as you were about to get into bed, you asked, “Why did Charlotte text you?”

“Probably just asking if I’m back home. I think Harrison said something about your mum inviting me over for dinner this week.” He lied with a shrug as he climbed into bed on the opposite side. While his room (which was actually your room as well) was big, it still only had one night stand on your side of the bed. Any other night, Tom wouldn’t care about it, trusting you completely with his phone, but now he was worried you’d get curious and check Charlotte’s texts. It wasn’t that strange for Charlotte to text him when he got back into town, but he got lucky by remembering Harrison’s mention of family dinner plans, something he’s gotten accustomed to at the Osterfield household.

“Oh yeah, she did tell me that. Friday, right? I just assumed you’d be free.” You laughed, making yourself comfortable under the covers by snuggling into Tom’s warm embrace. “If you don’t want to-“

“No, of course I’d love to. Your family’s my family.” He reached up and knocked on the wall behind him, just for Harrison, whose bed was on the other side of the wall, to hit the wall back. “See?”

Through your fit of laughter, you managed to say, “God, he’s going to think we’re going at it.”

“Hm, well, why don’t we?” Tom winked at you, his trailing down your waist.

“As much as I missed you, I’ll pass. One of us actually went to work today.” You teased, nuzzling your face into his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his sweet spot. “Besides, I’m still sore from last night.”

“That good, huh?” He smirked and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Watch it, Holland.” You joked, and he couldn’t help but think that one day you’d have that last name too. Tom pulled you closer to him, intertwining your left hand with his, as you laid down with your head on his chest. As you drifted off to sleep, he mindlessly traced over your ring finger, mind racing with what the perfect ring would look like right in that very spot.

The next day, you went away to work as usual, and Tom put on his most incognito outfit- dark hoodie, dark jeans, sunglasses (though it wasn’t actually too bright out), dark baseball cap. He was completely unrecognizable for the paparazzi.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Harrison asked as he and Tom got in the car because, while Harrison still felt that Charlotte was the better sibling to ask for help, he wanted to go as moral support for his best friend. You know, best man duties and all that. In his casual white t-shirt and jeans, he looked the exact opposite of Tom.

“I’m not having anyone recognize. Not today.” Tom insisted.

“Whatever you say.” He laughed.

The two of them met Charlotte at the ring shop, after they parked a little ways away (because Tom didn’t want his car to be parked right in front of the store- that’s too “obvious”, according to him). Charlotte, just as Harrison had, commented on his rather dull outfit, but yet again, he always wore black in some form. Despite their fashion remarks, Tom was glad to have your siblings with him, or rather his future in-laws, you just didn’t know that yet.

“What about this one?” Charlotte asked, pointing to yet another ring. She’d shown Tom nearly a dozen rings that she thought you’d like, meanwhile Tom was overwhelmed by the choices. They lost Harrison to the men’s section shortly after walking inside because he wanted more.

“I don’t know. This is all so much.” Tom sighed, looking at the pretty engagement ring in the glass case. It was delicate and beautiful, but he still didn’t know. He had been told that the ring will “speak” to him, that he’ll just know when he sees it. He wished it was as easy as knowing you were the one for him; all it took was one glance at you and he knew he wanted to be with you forever. You were his forever.

After what must have been the twentieth “what do you think of this one?” from Charlotte (which he did deeply appreciate her help), Tom was ready to give up hope on this store. Maybe this store didn’t have the perfect ring. Shoving his hands in his hoodie’s pocket, he scanned over the rings again, the shiny silver beginning to blur together.

“Check this out.” Harrison called to them from across the store.

“Haz, mate, I don’t want to look at one of your rings.” Tom answered, running a hand over his face.

“No, you div. I like this ring for Y/N.” He replied, and both Tom and Charlotte immediately came over to him. Sitting in front of Harrison, in the back corner of the case, was the most perfect ring Tom had ever seen. He was speechless, and he knew it was the one.

“Can we see that one please?” Charlotte asked the worker, reading Tom’s slacked jaw expression as one of pure amazement. The worker pulled out the ring from behind the glass, and Harrison and Charlotte both exchanged a look of ‘that’s it’ while Tom examined it.

“Yes. That’s the one.” Tom nodded, and the two siblings let out their bated breaths in relief. As Tom and the worker settled out the measurements and price, Harrison waited with his sister by the door.

“And now he just needs to propose.” Charlotte laughed.

“I bet he’s going to faint before he even gets the words out. Y/N will just have to piece it together.” Harrison joked.

“Do you know how he’s doing it?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, she’s so going to cry.” Harrison watched the cashier slide the pink ring box over to Tom, finalizing the deal, and he felt a wave of pride overcome him. His two favorite people in the world were getting married; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it through this without shedding a few happy tears himself.

~~~

Tom let out a sigh, taking a step back to examine his bedroom. From the Christmas lights strung around the room to the bed sheet hanging on the wall across from the projector, everything was perfect. There were even a few rose petals scattered on the floor. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, his other hand slipping into his pocket to fish out the little pink box. Opening the box, his heart started to beat impossibly faster. It had only been two days since he bought it, but he felt like he could stare at it forever, and, well, if you said yes, then he’d gladly stare at it forever.

“Y/N,” He mumbled under his breath, beginning to pace a little. Another deep breath escaped his lips as he continued quietly rehearsing, “Y/N Osterfield, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Tom had never jumped so high in his life, but he eased up immediately when he realized it was just Harrison in the doorway, arms crossed as he took in the new look to Tom’s room.

“So? How does it look?” Tom asked, closing the box and pocketing it once more. His hand remained in his pocket, thumbing over the object, like he was worried the box would vanish into thin air. He felt his hands start to shake a little at the unimpressed look on Harrison’s face.

“Like you’re going to be engaged by the end of the night.” He said encouragingly, unable to hide his happy smile any longer. “Now, come on, lover boy, she’ll be here any minute.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to tell? I want to surprise her.”

Harrison looked at the room again and then at his nervous friend, who was a little too nicely dressed for a casual movie night in; yet again maybe Harrison just wasn’t used to Tom wearing anything but sweats and a hoodie around the house. It seemed obvious, but maybe you would be too tired from a day at work to notice. Before he could reply, Harry shouted from downstairs.

“She’s here!”

Quickly, Tom and Harrison rushed out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. They went to the kitchen, where Harry and Tuwaine also stood, all four of them trying to act casual as they waited for you to come inside.

“Ed Sheeran? Are you sure?” Tuwaine asked, questioning Tom’s choice of music for the night.

“Yes. What’s wrong with Ed Sheeran?” Tom refuted.

“It’s a little unoriginal.” Harry added, and his brother narrowed his eyes at him.

“Unoriginal?”

“I brought dinner!” You announced, walking into the house. Tom sent his brother and friends a quick look of “don’t say anything” before he went to greet you at the door. His smile widened as he saw you, kicking off your shoes beside the shoe bin, balancing two bags of takeout.

“How was work?” Tom asked as he took the bags from you.

“Boring. Wish I could’ve been here with you.” You replied with a smile, your arms wrapping around his neck to bring him in for a kiss. His hands found your waist, the takeout bags hanging from his wrist, as you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks, not that he was complaining though because there was plenty of lost time to make up for.

Just as your tongue brushed over his lips, making him smile into the kiss, Harrison walked in the room, scoffing, “Get a room.”

“Don’t worry. We will.” You stated, not stepping out of Tom’s embrace as you looked at your brother. Harrison just rolled his eyes at you. You let go of Tom to make your way to the kitchen with both boys following behind you.

“Remember when you hated Tom?” Harrison teased, his normal playful smile on his face as he eyed you cuddled up to his best friend across the dinner table.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt at a joke, “Hate is an overstatement. Besides, I obviously got over that ruined dress a long time ago.”

“What happened to change that?” Tuwaine asked innocently. All eyes fell on you and Tom, and you remained uncharacteristically quiet, opting to drink some water instead of responding.

“Just time, I guess.” Tom shrugged, doing his best to save you from the topic.

While you did spend the first year of knowing Tom completely ignoring his attempts at being nice to you (which ranged from him offering to help you with groceries when you and Harrison still lived at home together to him greeting you when you walked in a room), your hostility seemed to change over night for the bystanders that were your siblings, his brothers, and your mutual friends.

It was sometime in the fall of 2014; Tom didn’t really remember the day exactly, or rather the night. He just remembered that he wasn’t in the mood to go clubbing with Harrison in some no-name London nightclub, but he went nonetheless. He soon lost his friend to some girl in the crowd, and Tom found himself perched on a barstool, nursing a beer. He checked his phone with a sigh; it’d been only half an hour since he walked through the door. He scanned the crowd in front of him, looking for any sign of Harrison, when his eyes caught sight of you.

Out on the dancefloor with a carefree smile on your face, you still managed to take his breath away. It had been over a year since the incident, and you hadn’t backed down from your grudge against him. Meanwhile, for Tom, he wanted to keep trying because, maybe one day, you’d tolerate him enough that he could actually talk to you. All he heard from your mutual friends (not Harrison because he’d never speak highly of you to another guy, especially one that he already knew was crushing on you, even if Tom refused to admit it) was that you were incredibly sweet and kind and funny and smart and basically everything Tom was looking for. Sighing again, he took another drink of his beer and returned to his previous task of seeking out Harrison.

When he still came up empty handed looking for his friend, Tom’s eyes managed to find their way back to you, but this time that same smile wasn’t on your face. No, you actually looked pissed off, an expression that Tom was very used to seeing. It was then that Tom spotted a seemingly very drunk Richard beside you, Richard from the party, Richard who had been your boyfriend for the past few months, Richard who Tom absolutely loathed. He hadn’t heard much about your relationship, except for the fact that Harrison thought Richard was a “conceited, manipulative asshole” who wasn’t good for you at all. Curiously, Tom watched you interact with him as you crossed your arms, saying something that made Richard roll his eyes at you and grab your elbow forcefully. As Richard dragged you out to a hallway of the club, Tom immediately shot up to follow you two.

“Let me go. I told you, Richard, we’re done.” You said, trying to get out of his painful grip.

“No, we’re done when I say we’re done.” He barked back. Tom took that as his cue to step in, standing a bit taller as he did so.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Tom interjected, and you looked at him, surprised by his appearance.

“Tom, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked. It was Tom’s turn to be surprised; you’d spoken to him, and you’d used his name- up until this moment, he thought you didn’t even know that.

“Pool boy?” Richard scoffed, and you and Tom simultaneously rolled your eyes, “Run along. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

“Sounds like she isn’t your girlfriend anymore.” He hardly got his taunting comment out before Richard let go of you just to punch Tom square in the nose. Tom stumbled backwards a little and regained his footing to punch him right back. Richard staggered in surprise by the force of the blow, and you took the opportunity to grab Tom’s hand and run from the hallway back into the crowded club. He didn’t protest as he followed you through the swarm of people, allowing you to take him out of the club.

“Why did you do that?” You said quietly, once the two of you were outside in the cold night air. You let go of his hand and didn’t even turn to look at him, opting to pace the sidewalk a little while he leaned against the wall, clutching his nose.

“He was harassing you.” Tom stated. When you heard the slight nasaliness to his voice, you turned to look at him and your eyes grew wide as you realized his nose was bleeding.

“Oh god,” You winced.

“Dick packs a punch.” He tried to laugh, but the humor was lost from his grimace in pain.

“Come on, my place is around the corner.” At your offer, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at you in confusion. Playfully, you added, “I can’t leave my knight in shining armor to bleed out on the side of the road.”

“I doubt I’d bleed out from this.” Tom mused, and the two of you began to walk back to your apartment. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you until there was a particularly brisk gust of autumn wind, making you instinctively shiver. Your sleeveless dress did nothing to shield you from the chilly air, and Tom noticed. Ever so awkwardly, he started to try to shimmy out of his jacket, mindful of his bloody hand. You paused, looking over at him in confusion, “Are you trying to give me your jacket?”

“Shut up.” He mumbled, embarrassed but still trying to take off his jacket to offer it to you. Biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the humor of it all, you helped him.

“What is it with you and jackets?” You joked, slipping it on over your shoulders. Seeing as he was in a long sleeve shirt and jeans, and that your apartment was just ahead, you weren’t going to decline his offer.

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged, laughing a little at the memory, “I’m just trying to be chivalrous.”

“Very chivalrous, indeed.” You nodded as a laugh escaped your lips.

“Maybe one day, I’ll get it right.”

Tom felt that maybe this lighthearted air between the two of you was a step in the right direction for the two of you, even if he was clutching his bloody nose the whole time. Back at your apartment, he propped himself up on the bathroom counter and you got a few rags together to clean him up. With his legs spread, you stood in between them, wiping the blood on his nose off with a wet rag.

“Thank you, by the way.” You mumbled, concentrated on your work.

“Anytime.” He answered, his eyes studying you closely, memorizing every detail of your face. This was the first, and hopefully not the last, time that you had been this close to him and, damn, did he enjoy it.

“Let’s not make this a regular thing.” You teased. “And can you, um, can you not tell Harrison? He tends to get overprotective.”

“Shit.” Tom groaned and you immediately stopped your actions, thinking you’d somehow managed to hurt him. “I forget Harrison.”

“At the club?” You asked, a small smile coming over your face, and he nodded sheepishly.

“He was off dancing with some girl.”

“So he forgot about you.” You joked, before seriously adding, “You should probably let him know you left, but-”

“I won’t tell him. This is our secret, I promise.”

And Tom still fully intended to keep that promise. Years down the road, Harrison still had no clue that your ex was the one who almost broke Tom’s nose, but it’s not like your brother remembered that night anyway. All he knew was that the very next day, when you came over for drinks with him and the boys, you and Tom spoke to each other. And, well, Harrison couldn’t help the small flicker of happiness that filled him to see his best friend and his twin sister getting along... finally.

“Yep, just time.” You nodded, sending Tom a small, grateful smile.

Dinner seemed to last forever for Tom; you just did not eat fast enough for him. He even started doing the dishes while you sat at the table and talked to Harry just to distract himself from the itching nerve to just drop down on one knee right in front of you. It didn’t help that Tom knew Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine were all anxiously wanting you to leave; they didn��t want to contain the secret any longer either. After nearly an hour of self-restraint on his part, he finally suggested you change out of your work clothes.

“So what movie tonight?” You asked as you made your way down the hall with Tom.

“I was thinking we could do something a little different tonight.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips. You eyed him skeptically before turning to open the bedroom door. You felt yourself choke up at the scene before you. Taking in the roses and lights as well as the room’s overall new romantic atmosphere, you were speechless.

“C’mon.” Tom slid past you in the doorway, holding out a hand for you. When you took it, he led you all the way inside the room, closing the door behind you.

“You did all of this for me?” You breathed out in disbelief, still processing the dramatic transformation.

“Of course.”

As you sat down beside him at the foot of the bed, in the perfect position to view the projected image, Tom quickly got out his phone to play the slideshow. Hearing the familiar tune of Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph”, you smiled, snuggling into Tom’s side. You watched in admiration as various pictures floated across the screen.

The very, very ugly first picture of the two of you together at 17 (with Dick cropped out and Harrison’s face replaced with a heart emoji). One of the many pictures the two of you took together when you went to Paris for your three year anniversary a few months ago. Goofy selfies you’ve taken together that should never be seen by anyone else. One taken by Harrison when Monty and Tessa’s leashes got tangled, trapping you and Tom together, before you were even actually together. A photo of you two in the world’s worst matching Christmas sweaters two years ago because Tom thought it’d be funny (and it was). Another photograph taken straight from a gossip magazine of the two of you at the Far From Home premiere (it was your favorite picture from the red carpet but also you couldn’t find it without the watermark); immediately following that one was Tom helping you remove your make up after the after party, make up wipe in hand (you two weren’t 100% sober when that was taken).

All of them were pictures of the happiest, most memorable days in your life, all moments that happened with the love of your life. As the song came to its bridge, Tom shifted out of your embrace to stand up, his hand deep in his pocket. When he turned to face you, his face dropped, realizing you were very teary-eyed.

“Darling, no, you’re not supposed to cry.” Worry was flowing through him now. What if you didn’t want this? What if you said no?

“Tom, yes.” You nodded, biting your lip to refrain from full on crying.

“Yes?” He repeated, suddenly confused.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you or not?” You teased. With a laugh, Tom got down on one knee in front of you, pulling out the ring box and opening it to present you with the most beautiful ring you could’ve imagined.

“Y/N Osterfield, the first time we met, you called me a dumbass, and I still am, but now I’m your dumbass that doesn’t know how to write one of those cheesy proposal speeches. You’re my best friend and my soulmate, and you know me better than anyone else. There’s no one else that I’d rather spend forever with, so will you spend forever with me and marry me?” Tom asked, hands shaking a little due to the nerves. Smiling and nodding, you leaned in to kiss him, despite the awkward angle from you still being on the bed and him still kneeling.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You mumbled happily between kisses. 

Laughing, Tom pulled away from you, “Don’t forget about the ring.” He took the ring out of the box and you held your left hand out to him for him to slide it onto your ring finger. You looked at the ring in awe for a moment.

“I love you, fiancé.” You said, eyes trailing for your ring to Tom.

“I love you, too, fiancée.” He replied and leaned in to kiss you. With his lips moving with yours, he brought himself up off the ground, blindly climbing onto the bed as you laid down on the blankets. Murmuring into your lips, Tom repeated his words happily, “My fiancée.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker​ 

Tom Holland Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland

Series Tag List: @thefallenbibliophilequote @wassup-peoples @thevelvetseries @greatpizzascissorstaco @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe

[jjungkookislife]

The Key to My Drawer Ch. 5

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: bf2l, angst, smut 18+

wc: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, virgin!tae, virgin!reader, sex on the beach, marking (hickeys), unprotected sex, creampie, alcohol mention/use (drunk phone call), ~_~ = flashback

date: June 29, 2020

Despite getting ready for bed, which you admit, you have done prematurely; you stay up a little longer.  You’re now on the 23rd letter, your hands gripping it tightly.  The sheets are pulled up to your chest as you wiggle in further to get into bed.

Your mom called today, she wanted us to come home for the weekend because our parents want to have a cookout.  We packed our bags and drove down and we stayed at your place.  It wouldn’t have mattered if I had gone to mine and you to yours, our parents know I’d wake up in your room or you in mine.

You woke up before me though.  I tried to pull you back to bed, but you insisted you get up and start making our coffee.  You stroked my hair until I fell asleep once again.

When you came to wake me, you had my coffee in your hands.  You refused to give it to me until I sat up, but sleep called my name.  You set the coffee on your nightstand, grabbed your pillow and smacked me with it, which caused a pillow fight to ensue.

Your mom came into your room, smiling when she saw us laughing on your bed.  She said it reminded her of old times.  Then she told us to come down for breakfast because she had something she wanted to give us.

After breakfast, your mom sat us down in the living room.  I thought we were in trouble; I was sweating beside you, but you held my hand and calmed me down with a smile.  I think your mom noticed the way I stare fondly at you.  I think she knows that I love you…

Relief flooded through my body when she gave us each a photo album, she said all our pictures were in there.  From our moms’ maternity pictures to the last visit we made home.  Everything was in there...everything.

I’m not that surprised to see your mom had a picture of our first kiss.  I’m sure my brother is the culprit behind that… I want to be mad at him, but I’m secretly grateful.  It was at our fifteenth birthday party and you had made me play spin the bottle with you and our friends.  I didn’t want to; I thought it was dumb, but you wanted to play and so I did.  I know at the time I loathed the idea, but now looking back, it makes me happy that we could have shared that first together.

~_~

I was nervous.  I didn’t want to fuck it up and everyone had their eyes on us.  My hands were sweating, and I worried my breath may have been bad, but you looked so excited; I couldn’t say no.  

The bottle spun and spun… and then suddenly all the girls moved out of the way.  I’m not gonna lie, it offended me… was I that bad?  Turns out, my brother had told them I liked you.  Like liked you.  Which wasn’t true at the time, but the girls thought it was romantic and the bottle landed on you, anyway?

I felt like throwing up.  Not because I had to kiss you, but because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.  Where do I put my hands?  Do I hold your waist?  Do I use my tongue?  Do I give you a peck and call it a day?

I didn’t have time to decide because you grew tired of waiting!  You gripped me by the collar of my Resident Evil shirt and kissed me.  It was one hell of a kiss!  You took me by surprise and of course, my brother had to take a picture of it and send it to our moms.

~_~

I wonder if our parents knew that I would fall for you; if that’s what they hoped for?  

I thanked your mother, hugged her.  

You know what she told me, Y/n?  

She said, “I know, Taehyung.  I know.”

The color drained from my face, panic clear in my eyes as I looked over my shoulder to check if you had heard.  You were too engrossed in the album to pay us any attention.  I looked back at your mother. She winked and left us alone in the room.

“Tae! Look!” you exclaimed, waving me over and patting the spot beside you.  I sat, my shoulder brushing yours.  You pointed at our prom picture.  I cringed, my hair wasn’t as cool  as it was now.  I remember how badly you wanted to go to prom, but I didn’t want to go because it was lame.  It baffled me when you kept turning down everyone who asked you… I thought you had wanted to go?

Maybe I was an idiot or maybe I… I don’t know, Y/n.  It confused me. Why were you turning down dates if you wanted to go so badly?

It wasn’t until Jimin came up to me after school two days before prom.  He asked me if I had asked you to prom already.  My brows shot up.  Me?  Why did you want me to ask you?  Jimin smacked me upside the head. Apparently you had told his girlfriend you wanted to go with me.  

My heart sank to my chest.  You only wanted to go to prom with me, as a friend or as more, I’m not sure.  I felt like an asshole, I’m so sorry, baby.  Forgive me?  

Jimin helped plan a cute way to ask you.  He even arranged for his mom to do your nails, hair and makeup that day.  He’s a lifesaver.

My mom called your mom, and they took you dress shopping the following day.  Trust me, I got an earful from both of them about asking you so last minute, but they both had been browsing shops for your prom dress since middle school, so they knew which places to hit.

We were a tad late to prom, but you didn’t care so as long as we got to take our picture together.  Most people only go for the picture, anyway.

We left prom after slow dancing, your hands wrapped around my neck as we swayed to the music.  You still look at me the same way you did back then when we dance, although less often.  I always want to hold you, always want your hand in mine.

Remember how we ended up at the beach that night?  I held your heels in my hand as we walked down to the shore while the rest of our friends and their dates partied in Jin’s beach house.

You looked at me, your hair still piled beautifully on top of your head, thanks to Jimin’s mom.  You smiled, “Tae?”

“Hmm?” I looked away from the waves crashing, smoothing out the blanket we were sitting on.  You pulled the blanket wrapped around your shoulders tighter around you as you looked back at the ocean.

“Are you scared too?” Your voice trembled, I laced my fingers with yours.

“Scared of what, Y/n?”

“Graduation.  Being an adult.  The world.  We just turned 18 in December and now we’re being tossed into the wild not even 6 months later, Tae.  We still have to ask permission to go to the bathroom and they expect us to go to college, pick a major, and work for the rest of our lives.  What if it all goes wrong?” You sigh as you look out at the ocean, the full moon illuminating the waves.

“Hey, Y/n.  Look at me, love.” You did, your cheek resting on your knees that you had pulled into your chest.

“I’m going to be right by your side, okay?” 

“What if we’re not friends anymore in college, Tae?”  Your eyes watered but I kissed your cheek.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Y/n.  It’s been 18 years, 19 if you count gestation,” you grimaced before laughing and shoving my shoulder.

“Don’t be gross!”

“I’m not!” I protested, but you continued to laugh.  The stars had nothing on the sparkle in your eyes.  Maybe I already loved you then?

The laughter died down, you squeezed my hand, “I just don’t want to live in a world where you’re not the only person I’ve kissed.”

I gulped, I didn’t know what to say.  Now I think I realize that you probably loved me then… I’m an idiot, aren’t I?

I didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter.  You kissed me and time stopped.  Nothing mattered but you and me as we kissed.  You pulled the lapels of my tux, nearly choked me with my tie as you pulled me on top of you.

I barely caught myself on my hands before your lips were back on mine.  I remember every moment in significant detail… every kiss, every touch, every moan.

Never in a million years did I think we’d give ourselves to each other on prom night on the beach.  Your dress was a nightmare to get you out of, I’m still sorry I ripped it… haha.

Do you still think of that night?  It’s been so long since I last did, but it’s all coming back now.  The way your hair unraveled, framing your face as you got on top.  Your hands planted firmly on my chest, my hands on your hips as I sat up to hold you tighter.  

My lips marked the column of your throat, your head thrown back as you moaned my name.  Fuck… that still sends shivers down my back, baby.

That was the best night of my life, I swear.  Having you in my arms, holding you close as the moonlight illuminates your body as you throw your head back, grinding down on me.  Your back arched, your sinful moans drowned out by the crashing waves as you cum around my cock.  

Fuck.

Fuck!

We went all night, into the early morning.  You fell asleep in my lap with my arms wrapped around you under the blanket.  

Jimin came looking for us when he woke up the next morning.  It worried him when he hadn’t seen us go inside, but once he saw that you were sleeping he left.  I think he knew then… he had to have known.

I wish I could say everything was sunshine and rainbows when you woke up, but it wasn’t.  We watched the sunrise before we got dressed.  You put my suit jacket on and I held your heels as I took your hand and led you to the house.

We didn’t talk about it… should we have?

Would we be dating right now if we had?  Or would we be strangers?  I don’t know, honestly.  I loved you then, Y/n.  Never doubt that but I wasn’t in love with you like I am now.  Or maybe I always have been and I just never realized it.  

You know, if I could express my feelings, we wouldn’t be twenty-three letters deep,  Yet. here we are, babe.  You’ve got an emotionally constipated best friend who’s hopelessly in love with you.

I’m sorry, Y/n.  

If you’ve loved me since then and I’m just now realizing.  I want to ask you, but what if you don’t anymore?  What if I've missed my chance with you?  Oh god, please tell me I still have a chance?  Oh, no.  Oh no, Y/n.

Please.

Please tell me I’ve got a chance.

Y/n, I love you! 

I will tell you.

Today.

I will tell you today, baby.

Wait for me…

You fold the letter back up, flashes of prom and the days leading up to it hit you like a ton of bricks.  It’s been so long since you thought of your school days, but you remember clearly now.

~_~

Jimin’s girlfriend, Adriana, had been going on and on about prom, while you hummed only half-listening as she talked about Jimin’s mom doing her hair and makeup before the grand event.

“When are we picking you and Tae up?” Adriana asks as she shoves her books in her lockers.

“You’re not, he didn’t ask me.  He thinks it’s lame,” you mumble as you clasped your books to your chest.  Adriana slammed her locker door shut.

“What do you mean he didn’t ask you?!  Is he going with someone else?  Because I can fix that real quick!  Who is it?  I’ll settle this right now.”

“Adriana, no!  He just didn’t ask, and I turned down everyone else who asked.  I don’t wanna go if Tae's not going, okay?”

Adriana scowled but nodded before she walked with you to your locker so you could grab your bag.

Later that same night, Taehyung had shown up at your house with a huge cake with a picture of the both of you.  ‘Will you go to prom with me?’ was written in icing.

“You wanna go to prom?  With me?”

Taehyung nodded, his boxy smile making an appearance.

“Did my mom put you up to this?” you asked as you looked over your shoulder where your parents were smiling at the two of you.

Taehyung’s eyes widened, shaking his head, “no! no! “

You accepted and allowed him to eat cake with you as you talked about all the details before he went home that night. 

Once he had left, you had run up to your room to write about it in your diary.  You were going to prom with your best friend, Taehyung.  Taehyung who you’d had a crush on since he gave you your first kiss all those years ago.  Your fingertips brushed your lips, a smile tugging at your lips as you squealed in excitement and kicked your feet on your bed.

Prom had been a blur for you.  You didn’t care to remember the bland food, the shitty music or the people.  All you cared about was that night on the beach with Taehyung.  You loved him then… so, so much.  You felt sparks every time he touched you.  His touch elicited a surge of heat throughout your body.  He’d made the night so special for you despite not wanting to go originally.  

You had often sat in your room wondering if he felt the same way about you.  You didn’t think so, so you never said a thing.  That night, however, you wanted him.  You wanted him to be your first (and only), so you gave yourself to him and he to you.  You didn’t care about the consequences.  You would worry about those when the morning came, not when his cock was buried inside you to the hilt, drawing out sweet moans from your lips.  

You knew nothing would change between the two of you.  If he wanted to talk about it, you would, but if not, you’d let that night be a once in a lifetime moment.  

And so it was.

~_~

Your thighs pressed together at the memory of that night.  Taehyung had handled you with so much tender love and care.  You had fallen deeper for him then, but it hurt when nothing came of it.

You wonder if you should have said something?  Would he have loved you then?  You didn’t think so.  

Your phone rings, a picture of Taehyung kissing your cheek while you smile with your eyes closed, mid-laugh, lights up your screen.  You fumble with your phone as you answer it.

“Tae?”

“Shit, it’s late…” Taehyung’s words are slightly slurred but you know he’s still coherent.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby.  I just… I miss you.  And Tannie, yeah, Tannie.”  

You nod, sitting up, “he’s fine, Taetae.  Go have fun with Jimin and Kook.  I’m sure they won’t be too thrilled that you’re on the phone with me instead of drinking.”

“Fuck ’em.  I miss you so much and that’s more important than taking another shot,” Taehyung mutters, but you’re unable to make any of it out.

“Tae…?”

“This is the furthest we’ve ever been from each other.  I don’t fucking like it,” Taehyung sighs, a bit of anger coming through in his tone. 

He’s right, though.  The two of you have always been either next door, with each other or in the same city.  You had never parted without the other.  Hell, even your family went on vacation together because the two of you would sob hysterically if they separated you.  It happened once when you were both 8 and never again. 

“I wanna see you, Y/n.”  His whisper has you rolling on your side, thighs pressed together.  You ignore the heat that pools deep in your belly.

“You saw me today, Tae,” you remind him in a breathy tone that has his breath growing ragged as he excuses himself from his friends to go outside of the bar they’re in.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice huskier than he intended it to be, but it drives you wild.  “You stole my shirt, Y/n”

You bite your lip, “I think it looks better on me.  Don’t you agree, Taetae?”

Taehyung leans against the brick wall, his head lolling back as he puts the phone down to his side, with his other hand, he cards his fingers through his hair, murmuring, “fuck, she’s fucking gonna make me hard calling me that.”

When he places his phone back against his ear, he can hear you calling his name.

“Tae,” you breathe, he can almost hear the pout on your lips.

“I’m here, baby.”  you want to squeal at the endearment but you refrain.

“You left,” you whisper, your finger toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Just for a second,” he laughs, you’re so cute.

“I know but I miss you,” you admit rather bashfully.  Taehyung grins, he knows this is the first time you’ve been apart and he won’t see you tomorrow unless he video calls you and even then, that doesn't seem like it’s enough.  He doesn’t want to think about it.

“Taehyung, man!  Come on!  We’re going to 201!” Jungkook shouts as Jimin and the rest of their friends pile out of the bar to go to another.  Taehyung sighs heavily.

“I gotta go, Y/n.  I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, Tae.  Be safe and have fun,” you whisper back, sad that he has to go but you eye the next letter.  You’ll spend all day tomorrow reading the rest of them, but you can read one more tonight.

“I will, Y/n.  Goodnight, b-”  Taehyung stops himself, he’s already let himself slip a few times tonight.  He sighs, “Goodnight, Y/n… dream of me?”

You smile, “always, Tae.  Always.”

I fucked up.

It’s over…

I waited too damn long!

Fuck!

I went over to your place today, ready to tell you, but when you opened the door and let me in, you told me you had to tell me something.  I was worried, but you said it wasn’t anything bad…

I asked what it was, my hands trembling as I slipped them in my pockets.

“I have a boyfriend,” you giggled as you showed me a picture of him on your phone.  I swear I could hear my heart crack right down the middle.  I felt the familiar sting of tears in my eyes but I blinked them away.

“I… uh, I didn’t know you were dating.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything just in case it didn’t go anywhere but Justin is amazing.  You’ll like him,” you assured me, but I didn’t want to like him.  Hell, I didn’t want to meet him.

“Yeah… sure.  Listen, I have to go.  I forgot I told Jimin I’d return his book.”

“But you just got here,” you pout, but I looked away.  I couldn’t look at you, I might sob in front of you and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.  I shook my head and rushed out of there, promising to text you later or the following day.

I won’t stand in your way, Y/n.  No matter what happens in our lives or who comes into them, your happiness will always come first.

I’m glad you and Jonathan are together.

You deserve to be happy and I’ll be here cheering you on.

Be happy, Y/n… be happy.

You grimace before laughing at Tae changing Justin’s name to Jonathan.  Justin and you hadn’t lasted too long, three, almost four months at most.

You didn’t like him all that much once you truly got to know him, but he was the first boy who had caught your attention since Taehyung.  You had kissed Justin a handful of times and no more.  He eventually broke up with you when you wouldn’t sleep with him.  Good riddance.

You grab one more letter, not surprised it’s a short one.

Fuck yeah!

Fuck! Yes! Yes!

Oh, I’m so happy I could cry! 

Y/n and Jackson broke up!  I never liked him, he was an asshole to me, but I socked him in the face when I found out he tried to pressure you into sex.  Fuck him!  He’s out of our lives for good.

It was torture seeing you in another man’s arms, but if he made you happy at the time, then I’m happy for you.  You’re mad at me for punching him, but I caught you smiling while you scolded me.  You were more worried about me going to jail than me punching him.

Should I tell you how I feel?

Should I wait?

You just broke up with that scumbag…

I should wait… give you time to get over him, right?  I don’t wanna be a rebound.  Yeah, I’ll wait a bit. Not too long, though.  I don’t want to lose you again. Once was enough.

Wait for me, baby.

I promise, I’ll tell you soon enough.

I love you, Y/n.

I love you...

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

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[tsrookie]

Alright, so today’s the three-year anniversary of Reputation a.k.a the greatest album of all time, my baby, the light of my life, the album that deserved a Grammy (trying desperately not to think about the scene from Miss Americana😭), the album that introduced us to the most beautiful couple ever, the album that shut Kimye up, and I better stop now, or else I’m not gonna shut up.

So in honour of this momentous occasion (and the fact that I reached 200+ followers! Thank you so much you guys!🥺 Love you all 3000💙), here’s a loooooong post on why Reputation is the Ethan and MC album.

1. ...Ready For It?

No one has to know

Throwback to MC saying the exact same words back in Miami.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

You should see the things we do, baby, mmm

In the middle of the night, in my dreams

I know I'm gonna be with you

So I take my time

Remember back when MC asked for Ethan to get into bed right away during their first time? Ethan told them that he had dreamt about the moment for months, so he wasn’t going to rush it.

2. End Game

Big reputation, big reputation

Ooh you and me would be a big conversation

These two dating would be the talk of the hospital, and they know it.

Even when we'd argue, we don't do it for long

And you understand the good and bad, end up in the song

For all your beautiful traits, and the way you do it with ease

For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities

Think these lines are pretty self-explanatory😌

I hit you like bang

We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't

*gets war flashbacks of the ‘reset’ phase*😭 They tried to make it work, but we all know how Ch 8 of book 2 went😌

I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me

Perfect for our chaotic MC😌

3. Don’t Blame Me

Do I... really have to explain this one?

For you, I would cross the line

I would waste my time

I would lose my mind

They say she's gone too far this time

Do we need a recap of our rule-breaking MC?

And baby, for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I'd beg you on my knees to stay

He was willing to risk his (mostly) rule-abiding reputation for being with MC. And there’s no way he wouldn’t beg for MC not to leave him if he ever screwed up🤷‍♀️

4. Delicate

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

Ethan stood by MC’s side throughout the Ethics hearing, when her reputation was completely smeared, and people only saw her as a patient murderer. He didn’t know about the sabotages, but he would’ve definitely supported her if he had known.

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

Commitment-phobia🙃

Sometimes I wonder when you sleep

Are you ever dreaming of me?

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

They spent so much of time apart, not able to be with each other, so the least they could do was dream of being with each other all the time.

5. So It Goes (an underrated af bop)

What can I say... it’s a sex song, okay? Don’t make me go into the details😂 Just listen to the lyrics, and all will be clear.

6. Gorgeous (Tumblr won’t let me put any more links)

MC’s eternal anthem to Ethan.

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine

You've ruined my life, by not being mine

We all know Ethan loves Whiskey, and the second line? C’mon!

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

But, what can I say?

You're gorgeous

Ethan Ramsey is famous for two reasons. One: his smart brain, I guess😒 Two: HIS LOOKS!!! HE’S GORGEOUS, AND DON’T DENY IT.

And you should think about the consequence

Of you touching my hand in the darkened room (dark room, dark room)

Ah, the olden days of hand holding in the diagnostics office🥺

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

No explanation required.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

The wonderful will-they-won’t-they saga. The frustrating hot-and-cold behaviour. The ‘We can’t’, ‘It’s unethical’ and ‘It’s complicated’. MC deserves an award for her patience😓

7. King Of My Heart

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own

I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone

Ethan ‘I don’t believe in soulmates and nobody’s waiting at home’ Ramsey.

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go

King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

This could be from both Ethan and MC’s perspectives. The love they share isn’t something that you get easily. It’s something that MC has waited for her whole life, and something Ethan never knew he needed, but now can’t live without🥺

Late in the night, the city's asleep

Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

Change my priorities

The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

This was definitely Ethan throughout book 2, after he finally gave in. He let go of his previous rules and regulations, especially during the time of the attack. He was clearly affected, and once MC was alright, his main priority was her, and her alone.

Is the end of all the endings?

My broken bones are mending

With all these nights we're spending

Ethan’s been burnt a lot in the past. But all those wounds are now healing thanks to MC.

Up on the roof with a school girl crush

Drinking beer out of plastic cups

They act like lovesick teenagers around each other, like, that’s literally their description if you choose to kiss Ethan for the first time in Chapter 14 of book 2!😅

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

Baby, all at once, this is enough

We all know about his initial fear of his mother reaching out to him for the sake of his money. To him, MC not talking advantage of him is a pretty big deal, even though it’s never mentioned. You just know, you know?🥺

8. Dancing With Our Hands Tied

My, my love had been frozen

Deep blue, but you painted me golden

Again, Ethan doesn’t have the best experience with love. But MC changed that.

I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted

This could go both ways, cause they’re both piping hot messes😬 (but love each other anyway🥺)

The rest of this song could have made so much more sense for them if we had gotten some sort of a secret relationship storyline. But oh well, I’m definitely not complaining about the gala😌 (and definitely not believing any of the supposed cancelled storylines)

9. Dress

Our secret moments

In a crowded room

They got no idea

About me and you

I mean... pretty obvious😌

Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My one and only, my lifeline

This is practically Ethan’s train of thought, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

As for the rest of the steamier lyrics... I’ll um... let you guys listen to it yourselves😁

10. Call It What You Want

I wrote an entire fic inspired by this song, so excuse me for the shameless self-promo, but go give it a read?🥺👉👈(totally fine if you don’t! I’ve probably made so many posts about this song that y’all know the meaning anyway😅)

11. New Years Day

Don't read the last page

But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away

I want your midnights

But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

MC has always stayed by Ethan’s side, even when he’s pushed her away. These lines perfectly explain how she wants his worst times, and his best, the midnights they spend staying up together, and the moments where it’s just the two of them, when everyone else has left, like the aftermath of a New Years party (still mad at the fact that we didn’t get to see the gang celebrate New Year together😭)

I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe

Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

The above explanation for these lines as well.

Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

Becoming strangers to each other would be their worst nightmares. Knowing that the other was out there in the world somewhere, but not being in their lives would kill them.

You and me forevermore

These two are each other’s soulmate, they know it, even if they haven’t said it yet. Forever wouldn’t be enough for them to shower each other with they love they hold for each other. But it’s a good start.

——————————

If you guys made it this far, then I honestly love you more than words can ever express🥺💙 Thanks for putting up with my Swiftie-Directioner-Ethan stan ass, cause I dunno if I’d ever be able to handle someone like myself. And if you read all the above stuff, then I hope you wanna know why this album means so much to me.

Reputation is perceived as a dark album, when in reality it’s truly about finding love amongst all the noise. This album, and Taylor and Joe’s story, taught me what true love actually is, and Ethan and MC cemented that. This album and these two couples (quite literally) saved my life.

The most beautiful part about both these relationships is that even though they never showed it openly, for the sake of their relationships, both Ethan(in the story) and Joe stood by the side of the one’s they loved, despite half of the people who they knew hating on them, or betraying them. And I think that’s what’s truly important. Forming a true relationship like that, be it platonic or romantic, is long lasting, and I hope everyone finds those kind of people to fill their hearts with. Sending much love, and sorry for being a huge sap😅💙

Tagging a couple of my Swiftie homies: @swiftlydarcy @nikki-2406 @dxnicaramsey @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @drariellevalentine @justanotherrookie

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 3

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 3422

Author’s Note: Mega thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​, and @cracksinthewalls​ for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. You all made this story way better than it started it, and I love you. Thanks to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do. 

@thoughtslikeaminefield​ , babe, I love you, and I love this story so much.

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Breathe, sweetheart, take a deep breath and hold it. Watch me, follow my breathing.” Dean’s hands, warm and solid against her clammy skin, hold her face so she has no choice but to look right at him. 

His eyes pierce the haze of fear that locks her lungs, and she pulls in her first shaking breath since she spotted the doll. She must have screamed, because one moment she was alone with the damned thing, and the next he was by her side, pulling her out of the room.

“Come with me, we’re getting out of here. Right now.” In a habit that miraculously stayed with her since she first knew him, Kimber stumbles after Dean, her fingers clutching his with a level of desperation that would leave her shamed if she had the thought capacity to care right now.

They’re out the front door, in his car, and speeding away before she even realizes he’s on the phone. 

“Yeah, Sam, I saw the doll on her bed. Front door was definitely locked when we got there, but I didn’t get a chance to check the windows or back door. She’s talked to the cops before this, they didn’t do shit then, but maybe now that the bastard actually went in her house. I’m taking her back to the motel.” 

He’s silent for a long moment, listening intently, his lips pressed thin and tense. Her face is wet, and she realizes she’s crying. She takes a moment to wipe away the tears streaming from her eyes, discreetly clearing her throat. She has a strange, disconnected moment of panic when she realizes she left her purse in the house and the door unlocked, but she shoves the words back down her throat so fast she nearly chokes.

That horrible...thing...on her bed, and she’s worried about her purse?!

Priorities, Kimber, she scolds herself. Dean is talking when she comes back to the moment, and she catches him mid-sentence.

“-agree with Kimber, I think it’s probably a witch. Gonna check for hex bags, ask her about anybody that might have a motive. We’ll go over her house when you get here, but I’m gonna try to keep her out of sight in the meantime. Don’t have a tail, but I’ll keep an eye on the way to the motel. See ya in the morning.”

He hangs up, eyes flicking over to Kimber then back to the road.

“How you holdin’ up?” The genuine concern in his voice breaks through the worst of her panic, giving her something other than her growing dread to focus on.

“I...I’ve been better. I mean, I know that nothing actually happened, but...Dean, I-”

“Oh, no, I totally get it,” he says, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “Fucking dolls, I hate ‘em. That creepy shit absolutely ain’t right. Anyway, we had no idea if someone was still at your place. Better to high-tail it, regroup, and plan than get stuck in a shootout with somethin’ that might not even go down with a bullet or five in it. You heard me talkin’ to Sam?”

She nods, doing her best to hide her sniffling. Without a word, he opens the glove box, pulls out a napkin, and hands it to her. She takes it gratefully, failing in her attempt to discreetly blow her nose while boxed into a moving vehicle.

“Thanks. The thing is, though, as far as I know, nobody has a motive to want to hurt me.”

This time he only lifts one eyebrow. “You, a college professor in a highly specialized academic area that’s typically full of eccentrics at best and nutbags at worst, have no students with chips on their shoulders? No jealous colleagues? Never forgot to tip the barista or leave a Christmas bonus for the janitors? Really?”

Her face heats up. She’s thinking like a scared kid, and she should know better. She may not be a hunter, but she knows the lore, knows the signs, and she really should know better.

“Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I’m not thinking clearly. Just...gimme a sec to get my head on straight.” 

She sucks in a sharp, deep breath through her nose, focusing on a droplet of water that’s sliding down her window. She presses air slowly from her lungs, watching the drop gain speed as it joins with more water dotting the outside of the glass, repeating the process until the raindrop slips off the window and her thoughts are focused again.

“I haven’t actually had to fail anyone in my classes lately, but I suppose someone could have held a grudge from previous semesters or just not been satisfied with a lower passing grade. As far as I know, no one in the department is jealous of my position. I’m not really anything special, literally just a glorified storyteller. I’m not on any boards or committees, I haven’t received any awards in a few semesters. No particular nutbags lately, but…”

She frowns as he pulls the car into a motel parking lot. Something is tugging at the back of her mind, an almost non-incident from a few Thursdays ago. She’d dismissed the conversation as random but harmless, but even the smallest details could be life or death. She’s been shown this over and over in her dealings with hunters. It’s about time she learned from other people’s mistakes.

“There was something, a few weeks ago, but I can’t quite remember,” she says, frustrated at how inadequate her memory is proving at the moment. The vestiges of panic still cling to the edges of her mind, leaving her thoughts scrambled and disjointed. 

“Think on it. Let’s get checked in, get somethin’ to eat, and you can tell me then,” Dean offers. 

She smiles her appreciation at the reprieve and climbs out of the car to follow Dean into the motel office. She uses the time Dean spends, first talking and then arguing with the clerk, to jog her memory, trying to recall everything she can about her encounter at the end of a self-defense class the previous month. 

It had seemed so harmless at the time, and nothing odd happened afterwards. At least, not that night. But as she stands next to Dean, straining her memory, she realizes Helen’s accident was just two days later. Her unseen watcher trailed her for the first time a week after Helen’s fall. Then Professor Lawrence a few days after that, and just last week Allen and the stapler.

She feels the heat of shame flooding her face. She’s a researcher by profession. How did she never put the pattern together? People have been hurt, nearly died, because she was too stupid to connect some dots? 

“I connect dots for a goddamn living,” she mutters to herself, earning her an odd glance from Dean. He turns back to the clerk, who shrugs.

“Take it or leave, sir.”

“Fine,” Dean growls, shoving a credit card at the man. Five minutes later, Dean unlocks the door to a room with two queen-size beds whose decor calls strongly back to a decade long past and best forgotten.

“I think they decorated this place before we were born,” she murmurs, earning her a tired smile from Dean. “At least it’s clean?”

He nods, tossing his bag on the bed nearest the window. “Sorry we have to share, they’re full up. Some sort of convention in town?” 

She hesitates, her stomach fluttering uneasily at the thought of a wall between her and Dean. “I don’t mind. I think...maybe it’s safer this way, in one room. I would offer to get dinner, since you paid for the room, but…” She trails off, empty hands spread at her sides. 

“Not a problem,” he says, dropping down on the bed and reaching for the phone. “Know anywhere good that delivers?”

 Forty minutes and two cheeseburger combos later, Dean lifts her reprieve and presses her for information again. The food helped ground Kimber’s jittery brain, and she’s thinking clearly for the first time since she spotted the doll.

“A few weeks ago, after self-defense class concluded, a guy came up to me. I’d never noticed him before, I thought he was new, but he said he’d seen me a few times and wanted to know if i would go get coffee with him. I wouldn’t have said yes, regardless, because...I mean, picking up dates at a self-defense class? Feels kinda predatory.”

Dean nods, lips pursed as he listens. He’s stretched out on his bed while she’s opted to sit in one of the two chairs by the table a few feet away. Kimber scrubs her face with her hands before running them back through her hair. 

“I just...I got this weird vibe off him, though, Dean. He may have found me attractive, I don’t know, but I seriously doubt it. He didn’t really want to ask me out. I have no clue why he asked; I could tell he wasn’t into me. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, his face was kind of stoney the whole time? Almost like someone put him up to it even though he really didn’t want to?”

Dean frowns, just as perplexed as she is.

She sighs, resting her chin in her palms and elbows on her knees. “I know. He was acting just a little too off. On top of that, I didn’t know him at all, so I turned him down. I wasn’t rude, at least I don’t think I was. He just accepted it, though; he didn’t push or even look upset. He didn’t really look anything at all. He just left. I didn’t see him in class again after that, and, honestly, I’m certain I had never seen him before.”

Dean rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t...I mean, yeah, maybe. A strong maybe,” he conceded. “But we need more information. Even if that guy is our perp, we need to find out more about what’s actually going on. Sam can help me look over your place tomorrow; you and I can search your office. We should check out the other accident scenes. Did anyone else in your class see the guy or talk to him?”

“Maybe the teacher?” Kimber offers, stifling a yawn. She’s weary to the bone and suspects she may still be feeling the after-effects of shock. She stands, intending to hit the shower in the bathroom, when she remembers just how quickly they had to leave her house.

“Um...Dean, I didn’t get to...we left my place so quickly. Do you have anything to wear that I could...borrow?” She doesn’t mean to sound so hesitant and vulnerable, but her emotional filter is fading with her energy, and she doesn’t have it in her to put up a tough front.

His eyes widen, and he jumps up from the bed to rifle through his sports bag. He reaches out, holding what looks like a white t-shirt and pajama pants. She takes a step towards him to accept them just as he moves over to meet her, and they both stop just shy of a full-body collision.

His fingers brush her skin as she accepts the clothes, and she’s annoyed at how her hands tremble from the brief touch. Her eyes flick up to find him watching her, his color high and lips parted. His hands close more solidly around hers, fingers rough and welcome against her wrists. Her pulse quickens, and that cold spot near her heart ratchets up a couple more degrees. 

His pupils dilate in response, black circles swallowing the mossy irises. Dean’s tongue flashes over his lower lip as he swallows convulsively, and her eyes track the movement. She wonders for the span of a single breath if he still tastes the way she remembers. It would be so easy to find out; just step in, drop the clothes.

All she has to do, really, is reach out.

…

Her fingers paused halfway between them, hesitating. He glanced up from his plate of pie, eyeing her curiously. Feeling suddenly, deliciously brave, she brushed her thumb over his lower lip, swiping a bit of whipped cream he’d unknowingly smeared there. She sucked her thumb for just a moment, self-consciously looking away as her cheeks blazed red. 

She’d never been so forward before, brazen even, and while she was proud of her courage, she was still shocked she’d had such nerve. She risked a peek at him across the table just in time to see him flick his own tongue over the exact spot her thumb had just been. He caught his lower lip under his teeth, grinning at her, somehow looking just as flushed and off-balance as she felt.

“You, uh...taste good,” he murmured, eyes shining. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at his sweet, simple sincerity. 

“You do, too.”

They had finished tutoring early, and it was only their second week. Dean was keeping up just fine in class, so she was more than happy to accept his invitation for a snack at the nearby diner. The day was pretty warm for mid-September, and they were technically still supposed to be at the library, so she asked if he’d like to maybe take a walk and talk some more.

“You’re just using me for my stories,” he said with a mock pout as they strolled down the sidewalk. “Is that all I am to you? A source of entertainment?”

“Dean, you’re the best show on. I wouldn’t even skip the reruns.” She felt so light around him, so comfortable and giddy all at once, like he was sucking the oxygen from her atmosphere while giving it right back to her all at once.

Just when she felt like her chest might burst holding all this inside, she reached out and linked her fingers through his. She felt a slight falter in his stride (or maybe she imagined it), and they walked on. She asked him about his family. He told her less about his Dad, more about his little brother, and nothing about his mom, but mostly he asked questions.

What did she like to read? Where was the best pie in town, because that place was not it. Where did she have her favorite birthday party growing up? What did she want to do when she graduated? Favorite family vacation? Favorite holiday? Was it as awesome being an only child as it seemed, or were there actually drawbacks he didn’t know about? What did she really think of his jacket, be honest?

Eventually, they found themselves back at her house, not quite time for her to be home yet. She was reluctant to say good-bye, and if his grip on her hand was any indication, so was he.

“I know!” she said suddenly. She tugged his arm, leading the way around her house and into the backyard. Neither of her parents were home from work, so she didn’t have to worry about their well-meaning interrogation as to why she was dragging the new boy around by the arm.

“Ta-da!” She spread her arms wide, grinning as she indicated the treehouse she and her dad had built together only a few years earlier. “Best craftsmanship, all the comforts of home, minus electricity, heat, air conditioning, and plumbing!”

“You mean it’ll hold us both, and there's some pillows and blankets up there?” He laughed, his grin growing as she glowed back at him. 

“You get me so well!” she squealed, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward again. “Come on!”

Though the structure swayed ever so slightly, it didn’t embarrass her by creaking, and there was plenty of room for the two of them to prop up against one of the walls, stretching their legs out on the nest of cushions and blankets she kept up there during good weather.

Rather than settling down, her heart began to beat against her ribs so loudly she was certain Dean could hear it. Her shoulder brushed his, and she could feel every minute shift of his body. Her nostrils flared a little as she steeled herself and turned to meet his intent gaze.

“I would really love to kiss you right now,” he said, his voice low and velvet soft. 

“Does that usually work on girls?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes glued to his impossibly lush mouth.

“Why, is it working on you?” The raw want in his voice was unmistakable, even to her inexperienced ears. No boy had ever looked at her the way Dean was right now, as if he’d never seen anyone else he’d rather kiss. He reached up, slid his fingers into her hair, thumb brushing her cheekbone.

“Yeah, it, um...it really is.”

He tasted of cherry pie and coffee. Years later, she would recognize that kiss as the moment her dependency on the caffeinated beverage began, but at the time, she wouldn’t have recognized her own mother. His lips moved gently, so tenderly it stole her breath and made some random spot in her chest clench painfully. 

She turned, leaning across him, almost on her knees. Her fingers slid over the impossibly silky bristles on the back of his neck. He shivered under her touch, lips parting from hers as he sucked in a sharp pull of air. 

“Kimber,” he murmured, eyes closed. She nudged the tip of his nose with her own, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed the smallest of kisses to the corner of his lips. Dean’s breath caught, and then he pulled her up into his lap suddenly, tilting her head just so before claiming her mouth again.

She didn’t know how long they sat in the treehouse exactly like that, learning each other’s contours and tastes, trading kisses and caresses but nothing more, until she heard the front door of the house close. 

Kimber jerked upright, shocked as if she’d been dashed with a bucket of ice water. She’d honestly forgotten there was a whole world that existed outside the two of them in the treehouse. The sun was much lower in the sky, almost gone in fact.

“It’s almost dark, Dean, I have to go inside.” She spoke reluctantly, the words pulled out against her will. She didn’t ever want to be responsible, even indirectly, for telling Dean he had to leave.

Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly, one hand holding tight to her waist as the other began to reluctantly untangle from her hair. He leaned forward, brushed her lips with his one last time before wordlessly encouraging her to put herself to rights.

Kimber checked the backyard to make sure the coast was clear before leading Dean down the ladder to the ground. 

“If you go that way,” she said, pointing out a thin spot in the hedge at the far side of her yard, “it’ll take you right out to Evergreen Drive. One more block over, and you’ll be on the same street as the school.” He nodded, glancing in the direction before turning back to her. 

God, his eyes. 

She was frozen to the spot and on fire all at once. In all her seventeen years, she’d never felt anything as intense as Dean just looking at her. How did he do that?

“I think I’m going to, uh...need a few more study sessions,” he said softly. “We might need to really get...in depth with the material.” This time his smile was a little shy, a lot less cocky than the first time she worked with him. And yet there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that let her know Dean Winchester would absolutely be worth every bit of trouble he got her into.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she said, intentionally not addressing his statement. For one thing, she didn’t think she could match his level of casual innuendo without sounding like a complete idiot. For another, she didn’t trust herself to respond without turning bright red. 

She turned towards her house when Dean seized her hand, yanked her carefully back, and caught her face between both of his palms. This time the kiss was blazing, not a trace of the gentleness from the last hour, and when he finally released her, she stood dazed and shaken, staring at him completely unfocused.

“See ya,” he said. He grinned as he released her and turned, loping across her yard with an easy grace before disappearing into the hedge. ...

Chapter 4

[doc-pickles]

i won’t hesitate (for you) ch. 9

Jo is happy, at least she feels like she is. When someone from her past shows up, will her and her daughter’s world ever go back to normal? Or will things change for good?

Me? Updating? It's more likely than you think apparently. I struggled, s t r u g g l e d. through this chapter but I think the rest will come a bit easier. S/O to Ren for proofing the first half of this and to Nat for demanding the second half hahaha. Also I know that the plot for this whole child support thing is totally out of left field, but I'm going with the Grey's motto of "enough logic to be believable but probably not real world" so there's that. Anyways enjoy! PS: In the interest of me not sending myself to an early grave, there's no flashback in the beginning of this chapter!

+

“Can’t believe we have to go to court, this is a waste of my time and my good suit,” Alex grumbled as he tightened this tie. “I had to pull it out of the boxes and then get it dry cleaned, I should freaking bill her for this.”

“This’ll be over with in a few days and we can go back to our normal lives, well as normal as living in a loft overrun with cardboard boxes is,” Jo exited the bathroom and navigated around a stack of boxes before finally making it over to Alex, moving his hands and helping with his tie. “You look so handsome, if we didn’t have somewhere to be I would drag you back to bed.”

“Well our bed isn’t even here for you to drag me to,” Alex moved his lips to kiss along Jo’s neck, a soft giggle coming from her as he did so. “Movers are coming in 45 minutes and we have to be out the door in 15.”

“That’s enough time for a quickie in the bathroom,” Jo’s proposition caused Alex to pull back and look her up and down with an amused expression. “What? I’m seriously horny all the time and you look good in a suit. I can’t help all the hormones running through my body. In fact! It’s your fault for getting me pregnant!”

Alex rolled his eyes, pressing one last kiss to Jo’s lips before pulling back from her.

“If I remember correctly, there were two of us in that elevator,” grabbing his keys and coat, Alex held his hand out for Jo to grab. “And I wasn’t the one gasping and moaning and practically begging the whole time.”

“If you keep using verbs like that you’re gonna make us late,” Jo swatted at Alex’s ass before grabbing his outstretched hand, following him out of the loft.

As they locked the doors and headed downstairs, Alex let his hands fall to Jo’s growing bump, showcased by her form fitting black dress. At almost 18 weeks pregnant now, Jo couldn’t attempt to hide her bump anymore. She’d been nervous that her pregnancy would impact the court case one way or another, but Alex had reassured her that he just wanted her there with him, consequence be damned. Things had moved quickly though, and in the end, Jo had been called to testify as a character witness so her protests didn’t matter.

The speed of the case making it to court probably had something to do with the fact that Izzie hadn’t bothered to fly back home to file a claim, instead calling the first paternity lawyer she could find on google and starting up the legal process in Washington. While it was a minor relief that Alex wouldn’t have to split time between Seattle and Kansas, both he and Jo were worried about how seriously Izzie had taken things.

Getting into the car and pulling on her seatbelt, Jo begins to ramble nervously. “How’s this going to work? I mean… they’re not yours, right? How is Izzie even allowed to do this?”

A loud groan left Alex as he settled into the driver's seat of his car. He’d wondered the same thing, but he knew that him signing all those papers when he moved to Kansas three years ago had definitely helped Izzie’s case. Even back then, he’d thought in the back of his mind that he should have asked more questions, demanded a paternity test, but he hadn’t. All he could focus on were these two perfect children standing in front of him, children that he now knew weren’t even his. Alex’s blood began to boil with anger at the thought of Izzie lying to him for so long, but he let out a deep breath and began to drive towards the courthouse instead.

“I don’t know, but I saw those blood test results myself and there’s no damn way those kids are mine,” Jo’s fingers rubbed against Alex’s arm, calming him slightly. He looked to her briefly before speaking again. “I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this, I wish I could protect you from it all.”

He could feel Jo’s gaze on him as his eyes stayed on the road. Alex could almost hear her thinking of how much she wanted to make Izzie pay for what she’d done to him. He was almost certain that pregnant or not, she’d fight Izzie if she came at her again. As if reading his mind Jo let out a chuckle and squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“I’m a big girl, I can stand up to bullies on the playground,” Jo squeezed Alex’s arm once more before bringing her hand to rest on her growing bump. “Let’s just get through today, this isn’t going to go longer than a day once they figure out you’re not those kids dad.”

But it did end up lasting longer… Once they got to the courthouse, Alex realized with a sense of horror that Izzie wasn’t messing around. She had two lawyers and was wearing a dress that looked like it cost more than his paycheck. And she wasn’t holding back anything, her lawyers showed that loud and clear.

“My client went through multiple rounds of chemotherapy, there’s no possible way that she could conceive without the help of artificial insemination and the sample that Doctor Karev provided,” Izzie’s lawyer was a short, pudgy man whose voice echoed through the courtroom unforgivingly. “We’re asking for Doctor Karev to back pay child support for the three years he knew about and took parental responsibility for both children as well as therapy for the children in the wake of his sudden departure.”

“Your Honor, these claims are absurd! Doctors Karev and Stevens performed a blood test that showed that one of the children has a genetic disorder that neither of them have, meaning that if Doctor Stevens did indeed give birth to both children, that Doctor Karev could not be their biological father,” Alex’s lawyer fought back, eyeing Izzie and her lawyers as she spoke. “All we’re asking for is Doctor Karev to be released of all parental responsibility for both children and for Doctor Stevens to repay him the legal fees for these proceedings, as well as cover any other expenses he’s incurred while being involved in this trial.”

A quick and calculated silence followed the statement, Alex’s eyes flitting nervously from Izzie to her lawyer to Jo, who sat behind him with her hands nervously running over her bump. He’d seen Izzie watching her with a venomous expression earlier, Alex’s grip around her waist tightening as they’d shuffled into the courtroom.

“Your Honor, we’d like to call Doctor Josephine Brooke Karev to the stand before we proceed,” Izzie’s other lawyer, a tall woman named Eleanor Krause, stood and gestured towards the witness stand. She wore an almost permanent scowl on her thin face, her dark eyes staring menacingly around the courtroom. “I have a few questions for the other Doctor Karev.”

Jo rose and quietly made her way towards the stand, eyes meeting Alex’s briefly before swearing in and turning to face Miss Krause.

“Doctor Karev, are you and Doctor Alexander Michael Karev still married?”

“No we are currently divorced,” Jo’s voice was clear and stoic as she answered, staring directly at the lawyer questioning her. “We’ve been divorced for almost three years now.”

“And the dissolution of your marriage occurred when separated he moved to Kansas to be with Doctor Stevens?”

“Correct…,” then quickly adding, “after learning of their existence, Alex determined he needed to sever all ties with Seattle to be there completely for his children. At least who he thought were his children.”

Krause’s eyes lit up suddenly, a wicked smile appearing on her face as she stared down Jo. Alex could feel his stomach drop, knowing that whatever the woman was going to say next would not be friendly or civil.

“And you also have a child fathered by Doctor Alexander Michael Karev, is that right?”

“Yes, my daughter Harper Josephine Karev, who is two, and the child I’m carrying now are both Alex’s,” Jo’s brow furrowed, hand settling onto her abdomen as she watched the woman take a step closer to her. “I don’t see what that has to do with the case at hand though.”

“I just want to know if the other Doctor Karev paid you child support during your first pregnancy and the two years of your daughter’s life that he wasn’t present,” Krause’s voice was practically dripping with malice as she stared Jo down. “I mean, we are here to make sure that he’s doing his duty as a father, whether he’s in the same state as his children or not, right? So, has he been paying child support to you, Doctor Karev?”

Jo’s eyes flitted to Alex nervously, his own telling her that it was okay to tell the truth. To be honest, he was scared what Jo’s answer would affect in the case, but he knew that at the end of the day he wouldn’t have to pay a dime to Izzie because her kids were not his.

“No he hasn’t, but he didn’t know he had a daughter until four months ago,” Jo argued, turning momentarily to the judge. “He’s been a present and wonderful father since he’s known about Harper.”

“Doctor Karev, are you sure beyond a reasonable doubt that both of your children are indeed Alex’s children? Did you not have your daughter shortly after your now ex husband left you?”

“What’s the relevance here,” Alex’s lawyer finally stood and challenged the woman accosting Jo. “Doctor Josephine Karev’s children shouldn’t have any effect on her ex husband's child support case! It’s cruel and malicious to be questioning her like this on the stand.”

Alex turned to glare at Izzie, angered that she wore the same expression as her shifty lawyer. She knew about what Krause was plotting, he would put money on the fact that she’d planted the seed of whatever cruel idea it was in her head.

“I’m just questioning Doctor Alexander Karev’s intentions when it comes to his children, however many that may be,” Krause shrugged, eyes narrowing in Jo’s direction. “You’ve filed papers to move forward with adding Alexander to your daughter’s legal paperwork, is that correct?”

That all too familiar feeling of horror flooded Alex’s senses again, overtaking everything as he watched Jo answer affirmatively, her eyes moving to him again. There were tears welling up in them now, the fear he felt in the room spreading to her as well. His breathing hitched as he listened to Izzie’s lawyer prattle on once more, her biting voice breaking through his mental fog.

“I’d like to request a hold on any formal paternity proclamations concerning Doctor Alexander Michael Karev’s alleged children until their paternity can be confirmed via DNA testing,” Krause moved her line of sight to Jo once more, a sharp note ringing through the courtroom as she delivered her final, jarring blow. “I’d like to request that all four of Doctor Karev’s alleged children are tested, I believe that Josephine here is still well within the window to have an amniocentesis performed.”

“No, hell no!” Alex stood from his chair, eyes blazing as he stared down Krause. “I am not letting you poke and prod my wife just for a damn child support case, especially one she’s not directly involved in.”

Both Alex and his lawyer turned pleadingly towards the judge, who was eyeing both Izzie and Alex warily. He was never one to feel anxious, but he couldn’t help the worry mounting in his chest. Finally, the judge spoke, his words directed towards Izzie’s lawyers.

“How long would this process take?”

“If we proceeded with the amniocentesis, we’d have results in as soon as three weeks,” Krause’s eyes moved to Alex, a sick look of delight glowing in them. “If you’re uncomfortable with that though, we can draw this case out until the baby is born.”

“I’ll do it,” Jo’s voice rang out before anyone else could answer, making all eyes in the courtroom turn to her. Alex felt his heart constrict as he watched her speak. “I’ll do the amnio, I don’t mind.”

“With Doctor Josephine Karev’s confirmation, I’m adjourning this case until the DNA results for Alexis Isobel Stevens, Eli George Stevens, Harper Josephine Karev, and Doctor Josephine Karev’s unborn child come back. Court adjourned, you may leave now,” the judge rose and left the courtroom quickly, not bothering to witness the pure mayhem that descended upon the room.

“You did this on purpose,” Alex was up and out of his seat before anyone could stop him, feet heading towards Izzie who wore a smug expression as she looked him over. “You disgust me, you’ve weaponized your own children against me and now you’re trying to jeopardize the health of my unborn child and wife?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Alex,” Izzie batted her eyelashes in Alex’s direction, her self satisfied smirk growing as she watched him become more angry. “Looking forward to seeing you again!”

Before he could respond to Izzie, a gentle hand pressed into Alex’s back and ushered him towards the exit. Jo’s presence, even if he hadn’t looked into her eyes yet, was an instant calming effect over him.

As soon as they stepped into the hallway, Jo and Alex were in each other’s embrace, steadying breaths matching the others as they tried to come to terms with what had just happened. Her face pressed against his chest, Alex could feel the slow shuddering breaths that left Jo as he held her. He knew the questions Izzie's lawyer had posed were ones that were a sore spot for Jo, ones she’d begged him not to believe as she’d cried into his arms just a few weeks earlier.

“Just one punch,” Jo mumbled the words against Alex’s chest, looking up to make sure he heard her. “Please? I just wanna punch her one time.”

Alex chuckled, looking down at Jo with a glint in his eye, “You know I can’t let you do that, even though it would make me happier than I care to admit.”

“You kept calling me your wife in there,” Jo pressed her hands against the lapels of Alex’s suit, avoiding his stare as she fixed her gaze on her hands. “I don’t hate hearing you say that again.”

The words made Alex’s heart stutter under Jo’s gentle touch, his mind racing as he took in fully what she was saying. Did she really want to be his wife again? After years of him being away, of her raising their daughter on her own? After he had all but abandoned her and told her via letter?

Watching Jo for another moment, Alex brought his fingers under her chin and met her eyes, “You wanna marry me again? After all the shit we’ve been through?”

“For some reason I do, you make me better,” Jo finally lifted her gaze back to Alex’s face, eyes welling with tears as she spoke. “You’ve given me the best things in my life, you’ve made me a better person. And if we can get through some of the things that have been thrown at us, then I truly think we can get through everything. I love you Alex, more than I can ever say to you. I know you think you’ve fucked up, but through the past few months you’ve shown me how much you’ve grown.”

Not knowing what to say, Alex leaned down and captured Jo’s lips with his own. If there was one thing that was almost always blaringly clear for him, it was that he didn’t deserve the woman in his arms. He couldn’t begin to fathom how much it had taken to forgive him, to even trust him again after what he’d done. But just as she’d always done, Jo saw him for who he really was underneath all of his layers of bullshit.

“We can go right now, we are in the courthouse,” Alex joked, prompting Jo to roll her eyes and gently slap his chest before walking towards the exit. “What? Not a funny joke? We had fun last time and the SUV has a bigger backseat than the Audi did.” “Mmm yeah, you know we made a baby that night, right?,” Jo raised her eyebrows, a mischievous grin lighting up her face as she took in Alex’s shocked expression. “You have really good luck, you know? You made one baby in the backseat of a car and another on the floor of an elevator.”

A peel of laughter escaped Jo as she tried to unsuccessfully move away from Alex’s grip on her hips, instead falling back into his arms as his lips grazed her neck.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” Alex whispered the words as he turned Jo around in his arms. “Weren’t you just trying to jump me in the bathroom a few hours ago? Is the car not up to your standards?”

“No, I’m just thinking that Link is keeping Harper overnight and our bed probably got to the new house already,” Jo smirked in satisfaction at the dark look that fell over Alex’s eyes at her suggestion. “Now's as good a time as any to start christening the place. Unless you can’t keep up with a younger woman?”

“Josephine Karev, you know I can keep up with you any day of the week,” Alex’s lips ghosted Jo’s ear as he lowered his voice, pressing her closer to him and making his aroused state perfectly clear for her. “Let’s go, before we have no choice but to finish things up in the car.”

+

Twenty four hours after leaving the courthouse, Alex and Jo find themselves in an exam room on the OB floor. With the amniocentesis being court ordered and both of them wanting to get things over as quickly as possible, they’d booked the first appointment that was available.

“How are you not nervous,” Alex sat beside Jo, her hand in his as Carina ran an ultrasound wand over Jo’s stomach. “I mean I’m not trying to make you nervous, but you know what happens here!”

“Can’t be any worse than a 15 hour unmedicated labor that ended with a 9 pound baby making its way out of your vagina,” Jo shrugged, Carina chuckling quietly next to her. “I came up with some very interesting curse words that day.”

Alex and Jo both watched the ultrasound screen intently, their baby reaching one leg up to kick at the probe. Carina furrowed her brow, watching the baby move languidly on the screen, “You’re going to have to get them to calm down, I cannot go in while they’re kicking all around like that.”

“Talk to them, they always calm down when you talk to them,” Jo turned to Alex and raised her eyebrows. “Go on! I don’t have all day to lay here Alex.” Alex looked between Jo and Carina before leaning down and speaking in the same mellow tone that Jo had become so used to hearing while they laid in bed at night, “Hey kiddo, you gotta slow down in there. Your mom and I are tangled up in this stupid ass thing-”

“Alex!”

“And we’d really appreciate it if you cooperated so we could get this done,” Alex glanced to the ultrasound screen, noticing that the erratic movements had lessened and the baby had calmed. “See, that’s more like it. You know your sister is very excited to meet you, she keeps running around talking about how she’s gonna be a ‘big shitser’ which is super adorable if not the most inappropriate thing to come out of a two year olds mouth.

“She wants to name you Elsa or Hei Hei, those are the options I was presented with a few nights ago anyways. I don’t think she really gets it, but she’s gonna be great,” Jo’s eyes closed quickly as Carina pulled out the needle, her hand squeezing Alex’s. “Okay you gotta be super still now, mom’s got a big needle in her-”

“You are not helping me, Alex.” “And she’s all done! Look at that, easy peasy,” Alex pressed a kiss to Jo’s forehead, following the once again active baby on the screen. “Hey look at that, baby’s flashing us!”

Jo sat up quickly, eyes scanning the screen as well with a laugh, “Well that’s one way to do a gender reveal.”

Alex leaned up to kiss Jo, laughter bubbling from both of them as they let the realization sink in. They had a house, they had two healthy kids, they had the promise of a great big future ahead of them. Court case be damned, they were happy and things were going right between them for once.

[gazeopard]

My Thoughts on Chapter 193

SPOILAHZ. Link: https://read-beastars.com/manga/beastars-chapter-193/ WHELP. I don’t know if I should be happy or terrified about that smile. That happy, squinty kitty smile... XD This is giving me some real-life serial killer vibes right now. Like, holy schtick. Melon keeps proving me wrong again and again. I thought he was gonna die, we ALL thought he was going to die with Yafya, but nope. XD Just... nope. I’m kind of curious about the fan-mail, as it’s giving me some Charles Manson and Ted Bundy vibes. Is it from Holger (pfft, imagining the sloth writing all those letters to Melon so Melon could pretend he has friends is depressing as fuck XD)? The people at the tattoo parlour he frequented? The guys working behind the Bloodbone drug? Members of the Ivory Tusk Trade? A new character (or characters)? The carnivores that hate Yafya? That last look on his face makes me think he’s getting some trick up his sleeve and he’s not done just yet. That something is going to go down in the future. I swear, if Melon evolves into an Overarching Villain, I will freak out. XD That would be freaking AWESOME, but that’s most likely just wishful thinking due to the anticlimactic ending this arc has gotten. The conclusion to the Revenge of the Love-Failure arc is very.... anticlimactic and rushed. The BAM is demolished, which I have mixed feelings about, as Louis stated a few chapters ago that “carnivores need meat”. When Louis said that it was necessary for carnivores to eat meat, I don’t think he meant destroying the BAM. I always thought that the Back-Alley Market was going to stay and the carnivores and herbivores were going to have to live with it, while fish meat and seafood were going to be included in the market as remedies or alternatives for carnivores that had cravings for herbivore flesh. But, I guess they're all just going to eat fish meat now? Yay? How did that not occur to them before? This sudden resolution feels like a Deus Ex Machina, and the sudden pacing of Chapters 192 and 193 make me wonder if Paru's editors or publishers are forcing her to rush it to move on. It's disappointing, because I was really invested in Melon's story, despite the arc's flaws. I was on board for most of the way and was very excited to see what happened after the end of Chapter 191, until Chapter 192 happened. The Revenge of the Love-Failure arc was all over the place, to say the least. It started off great, with Melon’s introduction and his clashes with Legoshi and his interactions with Haru, but after the game-quiz thing, it started getting crazy and a lot of things were left unresolved, like in my previous post. Legoshi’s fight with Melon was kind of anticlimactic and all over the place, and this ending has left plot-threads revolving around Melon hanging and unresolved. What was the point of introducing Melon’s father if they’re not going to meet at all? The guy might as well have just stayed dead if that was the case. And what happened to Melon’s ‘promise’ with Haru? It makes all their previous scenes together pointless. Unless Melon somehow breaks out of prison or his father decides to drop by and visit him, I can't see either happening. With Haru being the only animal that gave him the urge to eat for the first time in his life, I thought his promise with her was going to conclude with him kidnapping her and recovering his sense of taste after his fight with Legoshi. Even if Haru had changed her mind, it wouldn't have hurt to have had a brief scene where she'd tell him she changed her mind, only for Melon to try to kill her anyway. Kyuu’s betrayal also comes across as filler as well. Even if she did tell him Legoshi was using dentures, what was the point of that if Legoshi grew his teeth back anyway before Melon could use it to his advantage? The whole thing with Legoshi starving himself in preparation for the final fight didn’t really change anything, either. I remember people speculated that he was going to lose control and try to eat Melon and go feral, but nothing ever really came from it. From the way Ch. 191 ended, it looked like Gosha was going to get shot and I feel like having somebody (be it Yafya or Gosha) get wounded or die in that moment would've been very powerful, realistic, and would've risen the stakes higher. I thought Ch. 192 would open up to Legoshi and Yafya rushing to Gosha's side and Gosha was going to say some heartfelt words to both of them and die, Melon was going to see his killing of Legoshi's grandfather as an opportunity to goad Legoshi into killing him by harming more of his friends, like Louis or Haru. I thought he was going to escape with Louis, Louis was going to discover a kidnapped Haru, where we'd get a flashback chapter as to how and when Melon caught her, Louis was going to buy Melon some time until Legoshi got to them, Legoshi was going to turn up and, with Louis, fight Melon one last time. For something so unexpected and big like the death of Gosha to happen, it would've made Legoshi and Melon's animosities toward each other more personal, and it would've shown us that nobody is safe and anybody could die at any time much like in real-life. But for everybody to just survive at the end, and for everything to be just magically resolved like this, it all feels like a cop-out. And another thing... I wish Melon had had a bigger goal, or at least a warped vision of the society he wanted to achieve. I remember there was a theory on Reddit about Melon inspiring the carnivores of the Back-Alley Market to rise up in a civil-war against the city that was forcing them to hide away what they were, similar to what he did in the Turf-War scene (the one where he cut Dolph), and I was hoping something along the lines of that was going to happen. I suspected Melon was plotting something bigger and crazier than Yafya and the others were prepared for, and it was going to get crazier and crazier, forcing Legoshi and Louis to put a stop to it and their cooperation and efforts would earn them the titles of “Beastars”. That would've been an epic climax, but alas. If this is the end of the Love-Failure arc, I kinda hope this isn’t the end of Melon. I know some people are getting sick of him, but I kinda hope he’ll make a better-written comeback since his introductory arc was rather weak. But that’s probably just wishful thinking from me, as it does feel like the manga is reaching its conclusion. On a less depressing note, I think I’ll end this with.... a happy Melon. The Fruit-Boi may be behind bars, but the Fruit-Boi is behind bars with no fucks to give.