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viastro · 4 years

Text

pinky promise | joshua hong

ミ★ synopsis: who knew that your crush of two years also happens to be your friendly neighborhood spiderman? not you! and who thought that you’d find out he’s spiderman through you two being paired for a group project? absolutely neither of you.

ミ★ genre: spiderman!joshua, action, fluff, humor

ミ★ warnings: mentions of almost death, mentions of blood, some ass kicking

ミ★ word count: 5,929

ミ★ pairings: joshua x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! i did not mean to make this such a long oneshot... but alas. that’s how it be. i’m a huge marvel fan so i was like <333 spidey joshua <333 it’s absolutely time. but i also didn’t really incorporate many scenes of him as spiderman... am i stupid ? yes ! maybe in a different life i’ll write another spiderman au </3 anyways, i hope you guys like this one !!

You watch as your History teacher describes the upcoming group project that will be due in two weeks. Turning towards your best friend, Irene, the two of you flash each other mischievous smiles, already planning on pairing up. You lean back in your chair comfortably, feeling confident now that you don’t have to worry about choosing a partner.

“I will be choosing your partner.”

oh fuck me in the ass.

“Jaehyun and Jungkook.” Your instructor reads off his clipboard, now sitting up straight in your seat. You look at Irene, anxiousness written across your features, and she gives you a small smile. She mouths, “It’ll be okay!”

To which you shake your head vigorously and mouth back, “No it absolutely won’t!!”

“Irene and Seulgi.” You pout as Irene waves at Seulgi, knowing that she’s lucky because she got one of her friends. You have a few friends in the class, but they all have partners now. “I hate it here.” You mutter, about to lean back in your seat when your instructor announces:

“Yn and Joshua.”

You fall out of your seat instead, causing a loud crash in the back of the room. Your classmates turn to glance at the sound, only to see you on the floor instead. Irene lifts a hand to her mouth in an attempt to muffle her laugh, knowing that you only fell because you just got paired with your longtime crush.

“Yn… are you okay?” Your instructor asks, and you choose to close your eyes instead, refusing to look up and see what Joshua’s facial expression may be.

maybe if i act like i passed out… then everything will be fine.

okay i’ll pretend i fainted.

“Oh my God, I think she fainted!”

this was a bad idea. i shouldn’t have done that.

“Someone call the nurse!” Irene coughs into her shoulder to hide her laugh, and stands up from her seat. She puts on her best worried for my best friend expression, hurriedly walking over to you. She kneels beside you and grasps your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Someone help carry her to the infirmary!”

“I can help.” You hear Joshua say, and you immediately open your eyes, looking up at Irene in panic. She reaches up and rests her hand over your eyes, hiding everything from view. She gives Joshua a smile, “Okay, thank you so much!”

“WHA-” Irene clamps her hand over your mouth before you can finish your sentence, practically handing you off to your longtime crush. You feel Joshua’s arm go underneath your knees, and then under your upper back, lifting you up off the floor. You do everything in your power not to let warmth rise to your cheeks, or for your breathing to go crazy but that’s really hard because aaAAAAAA !!!!

Irene giggles quietly as she watches you hang limp in Joshua’s arms. She knows very well that you’re going to scream at her later, but she’s fine with it. Irene tells herself, as long as I helped her to shoot her shot, then she absolutely owes me !!

“Make sure to stay with yn until she wakes up Joshua, thank you for offering to help. Irene can update you both on what you missed when you come back.” You hear your instructor say, and you internally curse Irene for letting Joshua help you.

but at the same time i brought this upon myself.

... no i’ll blame irene.

You listen to Joshua’s shuffling footsteps towards the infirmary. You hear him curse to himself, before letting out a small giggle. “Sorry yn, this might be a bit bumpy. I have to take you down the stairs.”

the way my heart just swooned.

Joshua glances down at your closed eyes, smiling softly to himself when he sees them slightly twitch. He knows that you’re awake as he can feel your fast heartbeat, but he won’t say anything. He’s just happy to be holding you in his arms right now.

so what if he’s been too intimidated to talk to you since the bathroom incident !! he thinks you’re really pretty and is afraid to initiate conversation !! let him live !!

Once the two of you make it to the infirmary, he carefully places you onto the bed with the help of the nurse. She slides off your shoes, and places the light blanket over you. Once she’s done, she turns towards Joshua, “Are you going to stay with her until she wakes up?”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks again, and you pinch your thigh in an attempt to redirect it. Joshua glances down at you, chuckling quietly at the fact that you’re still pretending to be asleep. He nods his head, turning back towards the nurse, “Yeah, I will.”

“You can just sit there then, I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. It might be dehydration that caused her to pass out, but I’ll only be able to confirm when she wakes up.” Joshua nods his head, telling her thanks before she steps out, closing the curtain around you two.

“You can open your eyes now yn, I know you’re awake.” Joshua says softly, and you feel your heart stop. You slowly open them, turning your head to glance at him. He’s sitting on the chair beside the bed, looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You let out a quiet giggle as you slowly glance back up at the ceiling, now feeling awkward and embarrassed. “How long did you know I was awake?”

“Since Irene covered your eyes with her hand.”

“Ah, nice.” Joshua chuckles, resting his head on his palm as he watches you blink up at the ceiling. “How long were you planning to keep up that act?”

“Probably like, ten more minutes maybe.” Joshua nods his head, grinning at you. You raise your hands up, covering your face as the feeling of complete embarrassment takes over. You internally curse yourself for even pretending to have fainted, but at the same time…

it would’ve been absolutely horrible if everyone knew i just fell out of my chair.

at least they don’t think i’m clumsy, they just think i passed out.

...

that is not better in the slightest.

“I’m sorry Joshua.” You tell him, turning your head and looking at him. He smiles, waving his hands to tell you that it’s alright. “It’s okay yn! I wanted a little break from class either way, and you just happened to present a good opportunity for me to do so.”

“Our instructor does drag topics on for too long…” You mutter to yourself, and Joshua nods his head, letting out a sigh. He leans back into his chair, now thinking about the countless times that your guys’ teacher went from teaching about the lesson, to talking about his cat named Myrtle.

“Fucking Myrtle…” Joshua says under his breath, and you happen to catch it, letting out a small giggle. Joshua looks up at you, grinning at the sound.

“I was kind of nervous to have you as my partner because of the bathroom incident,” You cringe at the memory, and Joshua chuckles at your reaction before continuing. “But I think we’ll get along quite well.” Joshua tells you, and you smile happily. He finds that his heart is warm at the sight of your smile.

“I think we’ll get along too-”

“Oh! You’re awake. You should’ve told me, Joshua.” The nurse interrupts, opening the curtains that were surrounding the bed. Joshua gives her an apologetic smile, scooting back so that the nurse has room to check up on you. “Have you been drinking enough water today? The weather is hot this afternoon.”

“I only drank a few sips from my water bottle today.” You answer, and she tsks at you. You glance at Joshua to find him smiling at the fact that you’re about to get scolded. You’re about to roll your eyes at him when the nurse begins to speak again.

“You probably fainted from dehydration. You have to drink more water when the weather is hot! If you don’t, then you’ll pass out again. I’m going to get you a cup of water after I check your temperature, okay?” You nod your head, feeling a bit bad now about how worried the nurse seems to be over your overall well being. When in reality, you just pretended to faint to mask your embarrassment for falling out of your chair the moment your instructor announced that you and your crush are going to be partners.

She pulls out the thermometer, telling you to open your mouth. You comply, and she checks your temperature, finding that you don’t have a fever. She turns around and steps out to grab water, and you let out a sigh.

“How come we always end up meeting over the most unfortunate circumstances?” You ask with a playful smile, and Joshua chuckles. He opens his mouth to respond when his phone dings, and he glances down to check the message. You watch as a stern expression takes over his features, and he stands up from the chair. “I have to go, there’s a family emergency.”

You nod your head, having been used to Joshua leaving class at random points during the week. You’re more concerned at the fact that he has a family emergency every other week, but alas. He gives you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to go back to class on your own. Um, put your number in my phone though.” You raise an eyebrow, and his eyes widen, blush forming on his cheeks.

“T-to talk about our project!” You smile, shaking your head at him and taking his phone. “I know Joshua, I was just teasing.”

He lets out a breath, grinning as you hand him back his phone with your number in it. He waves to you as he heads out of the room, “I’ll text you later!”

“Will do!”

You sigh, about to lay back down when the nurse walks in with a confused expression on her face. She hands you the cup of water, and you immediately try to chug it all down. She glances over at the chair, before looking back at you as you prepare to swallow the water.

“Where’d your boyfriend go?”

aaaaaaaand there goes your water.

“Wait, so he knew you were awake the whole time?!” Irene asks over the phone, and you glare down at the pavement as you remember her being the cause of this. “Yes! But he was actually really nice about it, he kept smiling at me and I almost went into cardiac arrest.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe you guys are finally speaking after two years since the bathroom incident, and it’s because of me! I think I deserve some loving for that one!”

“Stop bringing up the bathroom incident! That’s my most unfortunate memory of high school, also you didn’t do shit!!”

“You just said I’m the cause of this like ten minutes ago.”

“This ain’t about you!!” You respond with a laugh. You’re walking on the empty streets close to your neighborhood, on your way home from high school. You smile as Irene begins to argue over the phone, looking at the setting sun as you walk peacefully on the sidewalk. You open your mouth to respond when you feel something hard get pressed to the side of your head, and you freeze. “Yn?”

“Give me your money.” The man says beside you, nudging your head with the gun. Irene’s mouth drops open at the voice, hearing your breathing turn heavy as you stand still in fear. “Did you hear me? I said give me your fucking money.”

“Sir, please. I don’t have anything on me.” You tell him quietly, and he lets out a sigh. He raises his hand up and strikes you hard with the butt of the gun, causing you to drop your phone and fall onto the ground. You cry out in pain, raising a hand to your now bleeding head. You reach into your pocket, grabbing your pepper spray as you feel the warmth of the blood trail down your neck.

The man leans down beside you, pressing the gun to your head again as you look up at him with nothing but fear and hatred in your gaze. He gives you a sadistic smile, “Give me your fucking money or else I’ll-”

You cut him off by spraying him directly in the eyes with pepper spray. He screeches in pain, quickly stumbling away from you. You take the opportunity to stand up and kick him in the face, before grabbing your phone that fell and running away as fast you can. You put the phone to your ear as you run, vision blurring from the blow to your head.

“Yn!” Irene cries into the phone, and it takes everything in you to not let any tears form in order to be able to see. “I need to call the police Irene, if I don’t call you back please check my location. Please.” You tell her hurriedly, hanging up after she immediately says yes.

You raise a hand to your head as you run, feeling the blood seeping into your uniform as you dial 112. You place the phone back to your ear, only to be yanked back by your hair and falling onto the ground. You look up with wide eyes at the sight of the assailant from earlier, looking at you with pure rage and a bloody nose.

“112 what’s your emergency?”

“P-please help-” You cry out when he kicks you in the stomach, effectively dropping your phone from your hand. You clutch your stomach in pain, looking at him with pure fear in your eyes.

“Please, I really don’t have anything.” You beg, tears filling your eyes as he cocks his gun. He points it towards your head, “It won’t matter anyways-”

His eyes widen when the gun is shot out of his hands, now on the ground covered in a web of sorts. You slowly try to inch backwards when you recognize the substance, knowing who must be here. Your heart still pounds violently against your ears, but you feel a bit safer now.

“Well, that’s not how you treat a lady, now is it?” A voice says from above, and you watch as the guy looks around in fear. You watch as the red and blue suited figure swings over and kicks the man in the stomach, knocking him to the ground.

“Spiderman.” The man states, and the superhero places a hand on his hip, letting out a dark chuckle.

“So you know me? That means you know what I do to bad guys right?” Spiderman asks, leaning down to the guy’s level and shooting a web onto his hand, preventing him from being able to get back up. The assailant panics, before trying to swipe Spideman’s feet out from under him. The superhero chuckles darkly, leaning down to the man’s level.

“How dare you hurt her like that.” He all but growls, and the assailant glares at the superhero. The man leans his head back, before slamming it onto Spiderman’s forehead, to which he lets out a hiss. You watch as Spiderman jumps up and kicks him in the face, knocking the man out cold. “I’ll deal with you in a second.”

The superhero then turns around and walks over to you, bending down and checking your injuries. He hears the distant sound of sirens, looking at your phone beside you that’s still on the call with the authorities.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I had to get a cat out of a tree.” He apologizes as he lifts some of your hair up, taking notice of the large amount of blood dripping from the wound on your head. You let out a little giggle at the visual of the superhero trying to psspss at a cat, and he raises an eyebrow at you under his mask. He lets out a little chuckle at the fact that you’re still able to smile in this condition, and you tilt your head at the familiarity of his voice, but the soreness of your stomach takes over those questions forming in your head. You begin to feel dizzy due to the loss of blood, and you let out a breath. The sound of sirens draw closer, but they’re starting to sound far away to you.

“I-I tried to get away by using pepper spray. He still somehow… somehow caught up to me.” Your eyes slowly start to close, and Spiderman reaches forward and catches you as you fall backwards. “It’s okay, I’m here.” Your vision slowly turns dark, and the last thing you hear is,

“I’m here yn, it’s okay.”

Joshua clenches his jaw when you close your eyes, lifting you up from the ground once the police and ambulance arrives. He brushes away the strands of hair on your face, pressing on the wound to get it to stop bleeding as he brings you over towards the stretcher. He lays you down on it softly, before turning towards the EMTs.

“Hurry.” Joshua tells the EMT behind his mask, and the guy nods. Him and his team quickly bring you into the ambulance, before driving away. He then turns around and glances at the guy that attacked you, clenching his fist tightly at the sight of him. Before he does anything else to him, he shoots a web towards the building and swings away from the scene.

“Oh my God! Yn! We heard what happened!”

“Spiderman SAVED YOU?!”

“Was he cute in person??”

“You’re so lucky to have been saved by him!!”

Irene slams her fist down on your desk, shutting up your classmates that were hounding you. You raise a hand to the healing wound on your head, feeling a slight throb coming on. Irene glares at each student that’s surrounding your desk.

“Yn literally almost fucking died, and you’re all asking her about Spiderman?” Irene asks harshly, and your classmates glance at each other. Joshua walks in, placing his backpack by his desk slowly as he watches it all unfold.

“Each and every single one of you needs to get your priorities straight! And fucking back up from yn’s desk, she’s still sensitive to loud noises and you’re all fucking crowding around her like dogs looking for fucking bacon.” Irene states, and your classmates back up from your desk, walking over to their own tables after muttering an apology. You let out a sigh of relief, and Irene rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” You tell her, giving her a small smile. She leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your forehead, before walking over to her desk. Joshua opens his backpack, pulling out the small squishmallow he bought for you, and heads over to your desk.

He’s been unable to get the sound of you crying out in pain, as well as the visual of you fainting out of his mind since the incident. He somehow feels like it’s his fault for having not gotten to you sooner, and he’s been beating himself up for it for the past week.

hopefully she likes the squishmallow, Joshua thinks to himself as he stands in front of you, plushie being held behind his back.

You look up from your notes, and your eyes immediately widen at Joshua standing before you. He tentatively places the squishmallow onto your desk, and your demeanor softens. “I heard what happened last week, and I wanted to give you something to put a smile on your face. I’m really happy you’re okay.”

You let out a small smile, reaching out and grasping the small duck. You slowly wrap your arms around the tiny plushie, giving it a hug, and Joshua’s heart warms at the sight. You eye a healing bruise on his temple, and you bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from asking what happened. Instead, you grin at him, “Thank you, Joshua. It means a lot to me.” He nods his head, watching as you place the squishmallow beside your pencil pouch.

“I was wondering if uh, you wanted to come to my house after school? To work on our project?” You look back up at him, and his eyes quickly widen. “Unless you don’t want to, that’s perfectly okay too. I can actually do the whole project myself if you want. I’m sorry for asking, I should’ve been more considerate…” Joshua begins rambling and you raise your hand to your mouth as you begin to giggle at how cute he is.

“I’ll come, but my dad will have to drive me there. I don’t walk around alone anymore.” You tell him, and he freezes at the fact that you said yes. He nods his head rather aggressively at your terms, and you fight back another giggle.

“Of course! I’ll text you my address.” You give him a smile, as he pulls out his phone, typing down his address. You watch the way the sun hits his black hair, reflecting a pretty brown. His tongue is poking out of his lips in concentration as he makes sure his address is correct before sending it to you. You let out a content sigh, finally feeling a bit happy.

Ever since the incident, you feel constantly on edge. You knew that if it weren’t for Spiderman, you would’ve died. It’s terrifying to admit, and you’ve been having constant nightmares of what happened that you can’t properly sleep. This is the first time in a week that you’ve felt your heart rate increase, but not out of fear. It’s due to you talking to your crush.

hehe <333 joshua <33333

“Okay, I sent it. Let me know when you’re on your way!” You nod your head and he gives you a thumbs up before walking back towards his desk. You feel a pair of eyes on you, so you turn your head to see Irene wiggling her eyebrows. You glare, sticking out your tongue at her in response.

“How cute! You’re going on a date with your crush!” She whisper-shouts, and you give her the thumbs down, turning away before your face can turn even more red out of embarrassment rather than being shy.

All while Joshua watches from his desk, smiling softly at you raising your hands up to your cheeks in an attempt to stop the warmth from rising to your face. He chuckles quietly, shaking his head and turning back towards the front.

“She’s so cute.”

“I’ll text you when I’m done Dad, I love you.” You say as you exit the car, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “Be safe! If you have a bad feeling just call me and I’ll come!”

You close the door after nodding, and walk towards Joshua’s front door. You ring the doorbell, and you hear the sound of shuffling for a moment, before the door opens. It’s a lady probably in her early or late 40s, and she’s a spitting image of Joshua.

“You must be yn! Joshua’s just up in the office room, it’s the first door on your left.” She tells you and you smile, slipping out of your sneakers. “Thank you auntie!”

“Of course! Just let me know if you’re hungry and I’ll make you some food.” You give her a thumbs up before heading up the stairs. You look around at all the family portraits up on the walls, giggling at the sight of baby Joshua. “How cute!”

You walk into the office, placing your backpack down by the door. You glance around the room, not seeing Joshua anywhere. You raise an eyebrow, pulling out your phone to see if he texted you anything, but there’s nothing.

“I guess I’ll use the bathroom before he comes back.” You mutter to yourself, walking out of the office and down the hall. You bite your cheek as you try to guess what may be the restroom until you reach the end of the hallway. You reach out and press on the door, only to realize that this is absolutely not the restroom due to the fact that there’s a bed and a guitar resting beside it. You’re about to turn back around when your eyes catch sight of something… large… on the ceiling.

You slowly look up, and you drop your phone onto the floor when you see who it is, catching the attention of Joshua. He lets out a screech and falls from the ceiling, landing on his feet as you stare at him with wide eyes. The two of you stand in silence for a moment, before you finally scream:

“What the FUCK?!?”

“Oh SHIT!”

“JOSHUA WHAT THE-”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

“Joshua you were literally on your fucking ceiling wearing the Spiderman suit!” You scream, clutching your face with both your hands in shock. He presses the middle of his suit, causing it to loosen up and fall to his feet. “It is absolutely not what it looks like.”

“Looks like what? That you’re Spiderman!?” Joshua stares at you, raising a hand up and rubbing the back of his neck. He lets out a nervous chuckle, flashing you a grin while you continue to look at him, mouth agape.

“Yes.” You begin to feel lightheaded at the realization that Joshua Hong, the guy you’ve been crushing on for the past two years, is also your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

that explains why he always leaves class early!

wait. you glance at the bruise on his forehead, and your eyes widen at the memory of your assailant slamming his head onto Spiderman’s aka Joshua’s.

that means he saved-

“I think I’m going to…” Joshua zooms forward once he sees your eyes roll into the back of your head, wrapping his arms around your waist before you fall backwards and hurt your head again. He lets out a breath, before carrying you over to his bed and laying you down on it.

“Maybe she’ll think it was a weird dream.” He says to himself in an attempt to feel better.

it does not work.

Joshua quickly grabs his clothes, before sprinting into the bathroom to change out of his suit.

You wake up with a start, immediately sitting up in the bed. You let out a small groan at the lingering throbbing in your head, raising your hand up and resting it softly on the healing wound. Joshua glances up at the sound of you waking up, and hurriedly prays that you don’t remember anything prior to passing out.

You look over at Joshua, and you stare at him with a blank expression as he walks over. You point at him, and his eyes widen as you say, “You saved me the other day.”

“Ah, so you do remember…”

“That the guy I like is Spiderman? Oh hell yeah I do.” You tell him without a second thought, still in a dazed state from passing out. Only to freeze a moment later once the words you just uttered process in your brain. Joshua lets out a cheeky grin, and you place your head in your hands at how EMBARRASSING YOU ARE !!

“So…”

“No.”

“You like me…”

“I’m closing my eyes.” You say, laying back down on the bed and covering your eyes with your hands. You peek through your fingers after a moment to see him smiling happily down at you, to which you frown and sit back up.

“You know!! This shouldn’t even be the topic of conversation right now because I just found out that you’re fucking Spiderman!! Shouldn’t you be more worried that I know your identity?” You ask in an attempt to change the topic. To which Joshua just shrugs, continuing to give you heart eyes. You squint at him, grabbing his pillow and throwing at his face, and he easily catches it, clutching it to his chest.

“I mean, probably.”

“Probably?!?!” Joshua leans closer to your face, and you lean back slightly from the close proximity. He tilts his head to the side, giving you a dangerous smile that makes your heart flip inside your chest. You wonder how he’s so bold, but what you don’t know is that he’s currently panicking inside.

joshua’s brain: she’s so pretty oh my god i’m going to go into cardiac arrest !! ohmygodohmygodohmygod look at the SPARKLE IN HER EYES hafjkwBGKJBWHGQBVAVNJEKRBGELBGE

“Do you want me to think that you’ll betray me, yn?” He asks in a sweet tone, but you know that he’s serious. You shake your head, and he leans back, standing at his full height once again. “I trust you, you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“How can you be so sure? We’ve only spoken a few times.” You ask, and he grins.

“Because I didn’t tell anyone about the time where you accidentally walked into the boys bathroom and only realized it wasn’t the girls restroom when you ran into me on your way out of the stall two years ago.”

“I’m going to the restroom, I’ll meet you at class!” You tell Irene with a wave of your hand, before hurriedly rushing in the direction of the bathrooms. You feel as if your bladder is about to burst due to the five cups of banana milk you drank.

Was it a mistake? You can’t tell yet.

You finally see the doors to the restroom, pushing it and going straight to the stall. After locking the stall behind you, you finally relieve yourself. As you pull up your skirt, you’re now able to decide whether drinking five cups of banana milk was worth it.

10/10 it was absolutely worth it.

You hear the sound of the door opening, and you quickly flush the toilet. Zipping up your skirt, you unlock the stall and step out, only to be face to face with holy shit.

Your classmate, Joshua stares at you with wide eyes, as do you. His mouth slowly drops open, and you finally take a glance around the bathroom to see that there are fucking urinals. You turn back towards Joshua in horror, and he immediately places his hands over his eyes, apologizing right away.

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I should be the one sorry! I was in such a rush to pee that I fucking went into the boys restroom without looking at the sign!” You cry out, walking past him to wash your hands before heading out. You continue to ramble out multiple apologies as you dry your hands, and Joshua just repeatedly tells you how he’s sorry and that we all make mistakes.

You’re about to rush out the restroom when Joshua hears the sound of someone about to pull open the door. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing you into the stall with him. You protest when he places his hands under your arms, lifting you up onto the toilet seat so that it doesn’t show that there’s two people in the stall. Your eyes are wide and you’re about to say something when you hear the door open, and you quickly shut your mouth.

Joshua just places a finger over his lips, before turning back around and facing the stall door to wait for them to leave. You quickly cover your ears at the sound of the guy peeing in the urinal, and Joshua feels his face warm at the fact that you’re both hiding in a bathroom stall together as a guy relieves himself right outside the door.

After the guy washes his hands and steps out of the bathroom, the two of you let out a sigh. Joshua unlocks the door, and you both step out. You place a hand over your heart, feeling it beat wildly fast. You glance up at Joshua, to see him let out a chuckle. You feel yourself begin to giggle too at how ridiculous this has been. Once the two of you calm down, you turn to him and give him a smile.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure to read the signs properly from now on.” Joshua laughs, shaking his head at you. “It’s okay yn, sometimes we just gotta go.”

You giggle, turning and preparing to walk out of the bathroom, before glancing back at him. “Please don’t tell anyone about this though.”

To which Joshua just smiles at you, holding up his pinky.

“I pinky promise.”

“Valid point.” You mutter, rubbing the back of your neck at one of your most embarrassing high school memories. It just so happened to also be the start of your raging crush on Joshua, considering how kind he was with the unfortunate occurrence. Still unfortunate nonetheless though. You look up at the handsome man, finding him waiting for your final answer. Letting out a sigh, you say, “Alright. Deal.”

Joshua smiles at you, holding out his pinky. “Pinky promise?”

You stare at it for a moment, remembering the time he did the same thing in the bathroom two years ago. You wrap your pinky around his after a second of reminiscing, “Pinky promise.”

Joshua unexpectedly wraps his hand around your wrist once the two of you let go, pulling you up off the bed and he stares down into your wide eyes. He watches as you quickly try to avoid eye contact with him due to the close proximity between you two for the second time today, and he lets out a cheeky smile.

“So… you like me, huh?” You scoff, pushing him away and he lets out a laugh. You step towards the door, before turning around and looking at him. He stares at you with those catlike eyes, always sparkling as he looks at you.

“We’re supposed to work on our project, Spidey.” He rolls his eyes at the term, following after you out the door.

“I think we can work on the powerpoint as we talk about me taking you out on a date?” You freeze, slowly turning back and looking at Joshua, who is smiling happily at you.

“Did you just?”

“I did just.”

“Bruh moment.”

“Is that a yes?” Joshua asks, reaching out and grasping your wrist, pulling you closer to him. You stare up into his eyes, and you scrunch up your nose. “Perhaps…”

“Perhaps? I think you owe me~” You laugh, reaching your hand up and covering your mouth, to which Joshua chuckles back. He leans forward and rests his forehead on top of yours, and your eyes widen.

“My God, you’re so bold.”

“I’m literally about to pee my pants out of nervousness, but let’s pretend I didn’t say that for the sake of you thinking I’m a smooth man.” You giggle at his honesty, and his heart flutters at the endearing sound. You purse your lips, before grinning at him.

“I’ll say yes if we can travel the Spiderman way.” Joshua’s mouth drops open at the terms, leaning back and laughing heartily. He raises a hand to his head, still smiling at the fact that you’re giving him puppy dog eyes in an attempt to make him say yes.

“Fine, we can travel the Spiderman way, but if you get sick that’s on you.” You nod your head, cupping your face with your hands to try and calm down the oncoming warmth to them, Joshua reaches out with his hands and turns you around, leading you towards the office.

“You know, you faint a lot. What if you faint when we’re swinging from building to building?”

“I fainted once.”

“Twice.”

“Same thing.”

“It is absolutely not the same thing.”

“Whatever, Spidey.”

“I’m only letting you call me that because of how cute you are.”

little did you know, you quite literally passed out in his arms when Joshua swung you two through the streets of Seoul.

it made for a lot of teasing once you woke up.

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ribcage-rodents · 4 years

Text

So I finally finished the first script of my au...

The JL tower floating in space, stationary, inside:

Scene

The JL tower in the meeting room. The leaguers had just finished discussing monitor duties and the leaguers were dispersing. Wonder Woman grabbed a mug of coffee and Batman went over to the monitor so when she settles down for her turn they can gossip. Other leaguers start to small talk, Black Canary and Green arrow are discussing dinner plans in the background. Flash runs over to Wonder Woman and pokes her shoulder.

Flash

“Hiya! Diana, so your little sisters comin’ over from ya island to learn the way of the princess warrior, right?”

Wonder Woman

Wonder Woman looked at him skeptically, setting her coffee down on the small counter serving as a drink station, answered hesitantly.

“Yes,”

Flash

Flash smiled and placed both hands on his hips. His face brightened.

“Awesome! Can you tell me about ‘er!”

Wonder Woman

Wonder Woman’s confused expression slowly grew more aggravated.

“No.”

She picked up her coffee and walked past him, heading over to Batman.

Flash

Flash zoomed in front of her with a placating hand motion.

“Awe come on, please! It’s just Wally’s always been kinda awkward and he’s really bad at making friends! He always says that his aunt and I are his best friends and the only ones he needs, and don’t get me wrong I love being so close with the kid. Warms my heart everytime he says it. But still I want him to have people outside our family that he trusts and can spend time with!”

Flash pulled out puppy dog eyes and pouted slumping forward with pleading hands.

“I was hoping maybe your little sis could become his friend. We could put ‘em on a simple mission with us as guides, and then maybe he wouldn’t be so sad and lonely,”

A couple of moments passed with Wonder Woman looking unimpressed and Flash in the same pleading stance.

Flash

“Please….”

He asked, elongated and drawn out.

Wonder Woman

Wonder Woman stood still, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Allowing our apprentices to create strong bonds within this brutal job is a wonderful idea.”

She laid a hand on his shoulder and her smile widened.

Black Canary

Black Canary walked over to them, leaving Green Arrow to look affronted in the background. She laid her hand on Wonder Woman’s shoulder announcing herself in the conversation before placing both hands on her hips.

“Teaching our young heroes how to successfully complete a mission together while also creating companionship, is a wonderful idea. In fact, I think we should incorporate all of the sidekicks to help them build these skills,”

Black Canary sent a side glance at Batman and lowered her pitch.

“God knows one kid’s gonna need it,”

Green Arrow

Green Arrow walked closer to the group looking annoyed.

“Yeah, well Roy isn’t much of a ‘team work’ kinda person.”

He moved his arm to wrap around Black Canary’s waist.

Black Canary

Black Canary subtly slipped out of the way. And faced him.

“More the reason to do this,”

Aquaman

In his booming, egotistical, voice Aquaman chimed in.

“I’m sure the others could learn much from my people.”

All members looked towards Batman who was typing on the computer looking at possible cases.

Batman

Batman, without returning their looks, answered in his typical deadpan Batman voice.

“No,”

Black Canary

“Why not?”

Black Canary asked, her usually soft face hardening.

Flash

The Flash zoomed up next to him.

“But Bats, Robin is like one of Wally’s idols! He’d love to meet ‘im”

Batman

Batman only glared angrily at him until he let up and left. The others soon also gave up on Batman’s participation and dispersed.

Scene 2

On a well lit suburban street a flash of red went by leading up to Barry and Iris's house, the same red flash rushed through the door into the kitchen, magically changing into Barry, where Iris is cooking dinner. A shocked look took over her face as Barry was even more energetic than usual.

Iris

Iris, shaking garlic powder over a baking sheet of oily kale, questioned her husband.

“Why’re you so happy?”

Tilting her head to the side and setting the garlic powder down, Iris then moved towards the sink to wash her hands before placing them on her hips.

Barry

Barry looked very excited like a child who got a gold star in school.

“Oh, nothing, just me being the best uncle ever!”

He ran over to the staircase and started shouting Wally’s name.

Iris raised an eyebrow but an amused smile was on her face. Wally came zooming down the stairs also looking confused.

Wally

“What’s up Uncle B?”

Wally reached up to scratch his forehead.

Barry

“Best. Uncle. Ever!”

He said tapping his chest at each word.

“I got you a playdate!”

He said enthusiastically, although his overly joyful smile fell off his face once he realized Wally looked horrified.

Deflated Barry poked Wally’s cheek before asking,

“Hey, what’s wrong. I’d thought you’d be happy.”

Wally

“I appreciate the offer uncle B, it’s just…. I’m almost sixteen and I have to have my Uncle find people to be my friends. It’s pathetic!”

Wally punctuated his sentence by throwing his arms up into the air.

Barry

Barry placed his hand on Wally’s shoulder.

“Oh come on kiddo. You’re not pathetic, it's just that at school in keystone no one liked science or superheroes. And now you don’t feel like you can make friends. But these kids think superheroes are cool enough to try and become ‘em. You’ll fit right in!”

He said moving his hand to pat Wally’s back twice before rubbing between his shoulder blades.

Wally

Wally looked down at his feet and answered, his voice quiet and self-conscious.

“Ya think?”

Barry

Barry once again rubbed his back before wrapping him up in a hug.

“I know.”

Barry answered.

Wally looked back at him with a tentative smile.

Scene 3

Dianah walked with purpose, heels clicking against the hardwood floor of Oillie’s apartment above StarLabs headquarters. Ollie, who was wearing a lime green sports jacket and tan cargo shorts, trailed behind her looking anxious and irritated at the same time. She knocked crisply three times on a bedroom door decorated in caution tape and road signs. Roy answered the door dressed in sweats and a hoodie also looking annoyed.

Roy

“What.?”

Roy deadpanned giving Dianah an annoyed look before trying to glare down Ollie over her shoulder.

Dianah

Dianah placed both hands on her hips ignoring Ollie’s quiet comment on how this isn’t gonna work because Roy never does anything asked of him, causing their stare down session to become more intense. In her ‘no room for argument’ voice, she says.

“You are going on a mission with the other sidekicks. You are not going to go out on your own, you are not going to disobey mission orders, and you are not going to behave like a jerk to the other kids do you understand?”

Roy

Roy glared at her for a few minutes before running his hand down his face groaning loudly.

“Yeah. Whatever, fine.”

Dianah smiled sweetly before leaning forward and kissing his cheek thanking him. Roy sent one final glare at Ollie before shutting his door.

Ollie’s face morphed between shock and confusion despite how many times he’s seen this almost same exact scene play out. Dianah started walking away, her heels clicking again.

Ollie

Ollie, questioned her quietly.

“How?”

Dianah

Dianah answered from over her shoulder.

“Because we have mutual respect for one another. Remind me to set you two up for a group therapy session. Now go get dressed, I’m not leaving this house with you looking like that.”

Scene 4

Underwater a school building with a logo of several fish swimming together mounted to the roof. A door is banged in as Aquaman, their king and hero, is standing in the doorway. Several teenagers practicing water bending looked up immediately saluting their leader.

Aquaman

“Garth.”

Aquaman called his name in a grim voice, he swiftly turned around and worked to the exit. The students all stared at Garth while a dark look overcame his face, quietly he gathered up his materials, storing them away into his bag and finally following after their eccentric king.

The two entered Aquaman’s private study at the castle, Garth held on tight to the strap of his bag eyeing the king cautiously. Aquaman was busy admiring his treasures from far away lands.

Aquaman

Holding up a glass ball filled with what looked to hold a shimmering sunset, Aquaman spoke for the first time since entering the study about five minutes ago.

“Do you know what this is Garth?”

His voice was no longer commanding but Garth still had his guard up. When Garth refused to respond, Aquaman continued.

“It’s an extremely rare prize from the Republic of Lenong. An alien world that worshiped the sky, their atmosphere was an awful lot like Earths. And this,”

He carefully set down the glass ball and instead picked up a long silver sword bedazzled with shining jewels.

“I earned this from a fight with the league of shadows.”

Putting away the sword he turned to Garth quickly striding across the study so he could seat himself across from him.

“You see Garth, I am very interested in other worlds and learning how they work. Learning their weaknesses and the true nature of their relationship with Alantis. I've studied the land-dweller’s world, they are intriguing and ridiculous, like children. I want to put you on a team with the land-dwellers’ babies, to learn from them and more importantly teach them. If this works then hopefully the land-dwellers will become more intelligent and competent.”

Garth

Garth stared back at the king, his gaze turning hard with hatred.

“King Aurther, aren’t those’ babies’ heroes? I don’t know how to fight,”

Aquaman

Aquaman gave him an enthusiastic look.

“You can waterbend,”

Garth

Garth opened his mouth to speak but Aquaman held up a hand to silence him.

Aquaman

Aquaman raised a single eyebrow as his mouth formed into a thin line.

“Do you want this mission or not? Because I could find someone else to fill the position.”

Garth

Panic sweeped over Garth’s face, his eyes shot to the side anxiously.

“No! I would be honored to take on this mission.”

Garth finished quickly nodding at Aquaman.

Aquaman

At that a wide smile spread over Aquaman’s face.

“That's good to hear my boy!”

Aquaman clapped the newly anointed sidekick on the back.

Garth

“Thank you King Arthur.”

Garth bowed to Aquaman and booked it out of the castle. Garth hurried down a side alley, knocking on a rust colored door of a seedy, run-down building.

A slit slid away to reveal two eyes, Garth leaned in and whispered the password. He took a step back to allow the door to open. He entered silently.

Evil Fish Guy

“Garth? Why are you here during the day?!”

Asked an enraged voice seated in a throne shrouded in darkness.

Garth

“I think I have a way to destroy the land-dwellers and King Arthur sir.”

Garth leaves the building making quick work of his walk home. As he enters his home multi-colored bubbles burst from the walls revealing Garth’s parents standing below a giant congratulations banner.

Garth’s Mother

“Sweetheart! We are so proud of you!”

She beamed warmth emanating from her eyes.

Garth

Garth took a deep breath, a conflicted look filled his eyes as he smiled at his parents accepting their praise and hugs.

Garth’s Father

“I can’t believe we are the parents of the King’s chosen protege!”

He called squeezing Garth tighter.

Scene 5

A delicate waver passed though the bright sky as Diana flew to her home island, the sand of Themyscira was crushed as she landed. She exited the plane trekking through the jungle towards her mother’s temple, as Diana entered the alcove Donna’s peering figure slinked behind the edge of the building.

Diana

Diana bowed briefly to her mother before meeting her in an embrace. They hugged tightly, Diana burying her face in her shoulder. Once separated Hippolyta returned to her throne while Diana stood in the center of the temple.

“Mother, the league is putting many of our young heroes into a team of their own, I want Donna to be a part of that team.”

Hippolyta

Hippolyta sighed softly drumming her fingers lightly against her throne.

“I'm not sure if I feel comfortable sending Donna to the mans world,”

She said pensively her hand moving to grip the arm of her chair.

“Would there be other women on the team that Donna could form a bond with?”

Diana

A tight smile overcame Diana face,

“There are no other women but I work mostly with men and they can be very useful in battle and perceptive to sensitive matters,”

She paused to send a meaningful look at her mother.

“In fact I believe that Donna would be a good influence on those boys.”

Hippolyta

Hippolyta sighed heavily rubbing her forehead before she looked at Diana, a tired, weary look on her face.

“You can take Donna,”

She held up a held stopping Diana from celebrating just yet,

“But I want weekly updates, if Donna or myself feels that she needs to return she will do so immediately.”

Hippolyta punctuated her sentence with a stern look, Diana nodde, a sweet goodbye on her lips as she left.

Donna

Donna jolted turning on her heel she ran through the village hopping over carts and pivoting between villagers. Her movements were erratic and messy as she rushed home. Donna rounded the corner leading to her neighborhood smacking into Diana.

#dick grayson #wally west #roy harper #donna troy #garth #teen titans!fab five #writing is hard

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strwbrryeos · 5 years

Text

Mint Hot Chocolate (M)

summary; This year, it’s just you and Namjoon.

genre; domestic au, complete fluff, mild smut

pairing; boyfriend!namjoon x reader

contains; a blowjob, facefucking, hair pulling, but it’s actually really sweet, mostly tooth-rotting fluff, both you and namjoon have big Dom energy in here lmao, you’re sarcastic assholes but you love each other, it’s really not smut heavy because, hey, it’s sweater weather

A/N: this is for Kristi ( @stutterfly )!! Happy holidays from your (not so) Secret Santa! Honestly I’m sorry this took so long I literally just kept rewriting it but in the end I’m happy with how it turned out. I know you said you liked mint hot chocolate, ice skating (if you could learn), and general Christmastime cuddles so I did my best to incorporate that! I know you said Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jungkook were your biases but from what I gathered you have a bit of a weak spot for Joon so here we are :) Anyway I really hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas and happy holidays! - Vienna

Another slippery misstep has you falling, a new bruise to add on to the collection. To add insult to injury, your boyfriend is failing miserably to hold in his laughter, and you can only frown in response.

“That’s it,” you huff. “I give up.”

“What, you’re gonna stay there all night?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Oh?” He shrugs, a mischievous grin growing on his face. “Guess you don’t need me then, huh? Alright, babe. I’ll see you at home.”

He turns away, his skates sliding against the ice with ease as he disappears into the crowd. You roll your eyes in both amusement and indignation. That bastard. “Namjoon!” you call, but he’s nowhere to be seen from your perch on the ground.

“Do you need help?” asks a small voice―a little girl who is definitely better at skating than you are.

“Thanks, sweetie,” you reply, “but I don’t think you’ll be able to help me up.”

“I can show you how! Look!”

She sits down next to you, cheeks flushed and eyes concentrated as she demonstrates how to stand. She makes it look so easy. You, however, remain where you are.

“Need help?”

You know that voice. It belongs to none other than the fucker who abandoned you. Namjoon stands over you in amusement, his dimples almost persuading you to forgive him right then and there. Almost.

“Nope. Got all the help I need right here.”

“Oh?”

The little girl is gone. Fuck.

“Fine,” you groan. “Help me up.”

Namjoon laughs again, extending an arm to help you stand. “Isn’t your ass cold?”

“You left me here!”

“You said you wanted to stay!”

“Fuck, I hate you.”

“Okay, well, one, I love you” ―he pauses to steal a kiss― “and, two, there are kids here! Don’t curse!”

“Oh, they can’t hear me over the Christmas music anyway.”

“Maybe not, but I bet their parents can,” he says, gesturing to two older looking women who stand at the side of the rink, their faces turned down in disapproving stares.

“Whoops.”

“C’mon,” he says. “One more try.”

“No,” you whine. “I’m terrible at this. Let’s just go home!”

Namjoon smiles and holds your hand tightly, nothing but faith and encouragement in his eyes. “You can do it.”

Children whizz past you in peels of laughter, and you shake your head in another refusal. “No, they can do it. I definitely cannot.”

“Please? One more try! You almost had it last time!”

“I fell on my ass last time.”

“Please?” he pouts, and, oh, that’s low. Puppy eyes?

“Okay, okay, fine!” You push yourself out further into the middle of the rink. “But you’ve used your puppy-eyes-card, okay? No more.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

Namjoon wraps his arm around your shoulder, his free hand helping to keep you balanced. You stare at your feet in concentration, willing them to not give out because you swear you cannot take another bruise on your hip.

“That’s it, baby,” Namjoon says, his breath hot on your ear. “Just take your time.”

“I don’t know how you do this so easily,” you mutter.

“I practiced specifically so I could take the love of my life out on cute dates like this when I got older.”

You huff a laugh. “Oh, yeah? How’s that going?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” he says with a shrug. “I have yet to meet her, you know?”

“You know, if I weren’t completely relying on you to keep me up right now, I would totally kick your ass.”

“Sure, babe,” he laughs, but he still stops to give you a deep kiss. “Forgive me?”

“Nope.”

“Do I have to kiss you again?”

“Yes, I think you do.”

He does, of course, while still managing to lead you along the ice (because he’s just that talented), and suddenly you look up and realize: you’re skating. Okay, it might not be all the graceful or elegant or cohesive, but, hey, you’re moving, and you’re not falling! Namjoon giggles beside you and says, “I told you so!”

“Okay, okay, but I’m not good!”

“You don’t have to be good! You’re doing it!”

“I’m doing it!” you repeat. “Okay! Now let’s go before I fall again!”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon laughs. “But! Before we go…”

He pauses, families skating around the two of you as you stop in the middle of the rink. “Look at that,” he says, gesturing upwards. “It’s snowing.” You look up, white flakes falling out of the sky. The kids raise their voices in excitement, and the lights of the rink glow brighter as the sun begins to dip beyond the horizon.

“I have something important to tell you,” he says, bringing your attention back to him. Everything seems to be going in slow motion, and, here and now, it’s only the two of you. He leans in close and kisses you softly and sweetly before pulling away and whispering, “I told you so.”

And then he’s leading you off the rink, unable to contain his laughter.

“Oh my god!” you shout. “You’re the worst!”

“What? What’d I do?”

“You know what you did!”

He’s loud as he pulls you along, making sure that you’re apologizing for him as you walk by crowds of people. “I’m sorry for him,” you say when another couple looks your way, but you can’t deny the warm feeling that spreads through you with every laugh that leaves his lips.

When you’ve finally reached the car, he pushes you up against it so he can litter your face with small (and unnecessary) kisses.

“Namjoon!” you exclaim. “We’re in public.”

“Are we?” he says, looking around dramatically. “I forgot.” He pulls the passenger door open for you and beckons you inside. “M’lady.”

“What a gentleman.”

“Anything for my princess.”

“C’mon,” you laugh. “Let’s get going before we get stuck in the snow.”

When you arrive home, the snow is just starting to cover the roads, causing Namjoon to say, “Ah, right as always, aren’t you?” when an advisory warning sounds over the TV.

“Oh, I know. So, how would you like to spend our snow-in?”

“As long as I’m with you, I don’t really care how we spend it,” he says, coming to wrap his arms around you as you start dinner.

“Mm, cheesy.”

“Wanna make cookies?”

“You will definitely burn this apartment down.”

“I can decorate, can’t I?”

You contemplate for a moment before relenting. “Fine! But don’t you dare touch the oven!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs.

“Okay, I’ll finish dinner and you can get started on the cookies.”

“Sounds like a plan, babe.”

Namjoon works in tandem beside you (well, as “in tandem” as a clutz like him can), preparing the dough while you prepare the pasta. Soft music plays in the kitchen from speakers installed at Namjoon’s behest. You’re glad he convinced you on it because it’s cute to watch him dance along to his own playlist as he rolls the dough out as best he can.

“Does this look good?” he asks, directing your attention away from your own task.

“Babe,” you giggle as you roll up your sleeves. “Does that look flat to you?”

The dough is lumpy and definitely not rolled out, and it’s way too thick to make proper sized cookies. Namjoon only shrugs, a big smile on his face. “Looks perfect to me.”

“I can never trust your judgement ever again.”

Namjoon laughs as you roll the dough out, completely using this as an opportunity to wrap you snugly in his arms.

“This isn’t helping,” you say.

“It’s helping me,” he replies, giving you an obnoxiously wet kiss on the cheek.

“Stop it! Here.” You pull a box towards him. “Cut out your favorite shapes so I can finish this.”

“Can I get a kiss?”

“Cut your cookies.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You plate the pasta as Namjoon slides the cookies into the oven, and he closes the door with an accomplished look on his face.

“I did it,” he says, and, fuck, he’s cute.

“C’mere. Let’s eat.”

“Can we watch a movie?”

“Can I pick?”

Namjoon pouts. “You’re gonna pick Up again, and I’m gonna cry.”

“We can cry together!”

“You don’t love me.”

“I do…” ―you pause and smile sweetly― “But I love Up more.”

“Fine,” he agrees. “But you owe me.”

“Oh, how will I ever make it up to you?” you ask as you set up the movie.

Namjoon puts the plates on the coffee table and makes himself comfortable on the couch. “I have a few ideas.”

“Like?”

He turns around to look at the timer on the oven. “You have eight minutes.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Namjoon leans back, relaxing into the couch, arms and legs spread in a “game-on” type of way. You roll your eyes but, hey, you’re never one to back down. It’s all in the Christmas spirit, right?

“So what do I get if I win?” you ask as you get on your knees in front of him, helping him out of his pants.

The belt jingles as it clatters to the floor, and Namjoon’s lips twist up in a knowing smirk. “I guess I could be inclined to do whatever you ask me to later…”

You laugh and reach up to kiss him. Your lips lock, and his hands reach out to deepen the kiss, tugging slightly on your hair.

“As if you wouldn’t anyway,” you say once you break away.

“Hey, it was your turn last time.”

You hum and lick the tip of his already hard cock instead. “How much time is left?”

He looks over his shoulder. “Six and a half.”

“Bet.”

You tease him a little, lapping at the base slowly, the way you know he likes. Namjoon moans above you, and it gives you the little push you need to start putting him in your mouth. You take your time, ironic given the game, but you know that the best way to unravel Namjoon is to rile him up.

You take him as much as you can, stroking what’s left. Namjoon groans and grabs your head, encouraging you to move. You bob your head, slowly picking up the pace until Namjoon is trying is best not to simply fuck your mouth.

It doesn’t matter, of course, because you pop off him to say, “Fuck my mouth,” and Namjoon is uttering a string of curses before he grabs your head on both sides.

“Hit my thighs if you need out.”

“I know,” you say, sounding as debauched as him. “Hurry up.”

“Fuck. Gonna kill me.”

Namjoon slides into your mouth, setting a pace that’s a little uncomfortable for you, but hey, blowjobs aren’t all that comfortable in the first place. Tears prick at your eyes, glassy as you look up at him, and he’s definitely getting off on it. “Fuck…” he whispers. “That’s so good.”

You tap his leg, pushing him back a bit to catch your breath.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let me just…”

“Yeah, whatever you need.”

He gives you a second, pets your hair while you recover, and when you’re ready, you put him back in your mouth again. You bob your head faster this time, knowing he’s close. You stroke him at the same time before detaching and licking long strips up and down. Your thumb swipes across his slit fast, and suddenly he’s knotting your hair in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Babe. Shit. I’m gonna―”

“In my mouth.”

He obliges, spilling into your mouth as he comes undone. You suck him dry, and when he collapses back onto the couch, the oven timer rings. Namjoon laughs, throwing his head back.

“You win,” he says somewhat breathlessly.

“Don’t I always?”

You pull the cookies out of the oven, setting them on the countertop to cool before decorating.

“You know,” Namjoon says from the living room. “I think the pasta’s gone cold.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Hey” ―he puts his hands up in defense― “it’s your fault for being so competitive.”

“It’s your fault for challenging me.”

He shrugs. “No complaints here.”

“I’m gonna go rinse my mouth out,” you tell him. “Then we can eat and decorate cookies.”

“I’ll make hot chocolate for you.”

“With mint?”

“Of course with mint. Who do you think I am?”

You laugh as you walk away, and Namjoon sets up the movie. He’s eagerly waiting for you when you return, arms open because Up is his cuddling movie (even if he won’t admit it).

You try to reach for the food, but to no avail. “You know, I can’t eat like this.”

“I’ll feed you.”

“But what about my hot chocolate?”

“I will... still feed you,” he laughs.

“Wow, you’re spoiling me.”

“Only the best for my lady.”

“You know you’re going to have to get up to make it, right?”

He groans. “But it’s so comfy here.”

“Please? Please?”

“Fine.”

He gives you a kiss, slow and deep this time. He laughs into your mouth, a sound full of love and affection.

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

#secretsanta2019 #smutcentralnet #kim Namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon / reader #bts smut #btssmut #bts fluff #btsfluff #namjoon fluff #rm fluff #namjoon smut #rm smut #kim namjoon #bts rm #bts kim namjoon

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earlgreytea68 · 5 years

Text

It’s my FOBiversary!

A year ago tonight I started reading this Regency AU about people I didn’t know. I stayed up all night. And then a year ago tomorrow I woke up and thought to myself, Who the hell is Pete Wentz? And then I found out.

And if you’re wondering how I’ve spent my past year, it’s been learning this:

That:

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time there was a boy named Pete. He was supposed to be a lawyer. What he wanted to be was in a band. He wanted to stage-dive into crowds of people. He wanted to scream into microphones for attention, and to have the audience scream back at him.

He wasn’t especially good at music himself. (What he was good at was soccer. Really good at it, as Patrick Stump will tell you. All-State in Illinois.)

But what Pete was also very good at was two things that turned out to be super important to his future: emo LJ poetry, and Making Things Happen when they needed to happen (even if that made him the asshole).

Pete was in a band that was touring and stuff but he was kind of getting bored. He knew this kid Joe who said, “Hey, let’s try a pop punk thing for fun,” and Pete was like, “Ha, that sounds hilarious, let’s do it.” (Pete was once part of a band where the members were only allowed to perform using instruments they didn’t know how to play. Pete had a history of bands-for-jokes.)

At the same time:

Once upon a time there was a boy named Patrick. He was super-good at music, had written it in his head for as long as he could remember, sang so well naturally that it literally didn’t occur to him that singing wasn’t something everyone could do. He was so good at music that he could be lazy about it, that he took up drumming because it was so easy for him that he didn’t have to put much effort into it.

But by the old age of seventeen he was also super-disgusted with everyone around him for failing to take him seriously, when he was *really good at music.* Just because he was a *drummer* didn’t mean he didn’t write *awesome music,* ugh, it’s really rough to be sulky teenage Patrick Stump, let me tell you. (It’s also rough to be stubborn, control-freak Patrick Stump later on, and Patrick-Stump-who-has-such-a-beautiful-voice-why-doesn’t-anyone-respect-me-as-a-MUSICIAN-goddammit. Patrick’s a sweetheart but he’s also got the kind of effortless affinity for things that makes you very impatient at how long it’s taking everyone else to WAKE UP ALREADY.)

Anyway. One day, the drummer boy Patrick was working at a Borders and interrupted a conversation he heard two boys having about the band Neurosis. Because that’s the kind of pretentious music geek our boy Patrick is. One of the boys happened to Joe, who was about to change Patrick’s life and Pete’s life and his own life by somehow stumbling upon Pete Wentz’s creative soulmate in a Borders bookstore. But how was anyone to know that at the time? Joe just thought, “Wow, look at this kid who’s pretentious about music, I bet he’d get along with Pete.” So Joe said to Patrick, “Hey, do you know Pete Wentz? I’m starting a band with him and we need more people.”

Patrick knew of Pete Wentz. Pete was in real bands. Bands that toured. Pete would be an excellent person to know in this scene Patrick wanted to get more into, instead of just know of. So Patrick was like, “Whatever you need for your band, I can definitely do it.”

Joe called up Pete. Joe said, “Hey, you know that pop punk thing we’re going to do?”

Pete said, “Oh, yeah, that joke band?”

Joe said, “I met this kid Patrick, he could be a drummer or, I don’t know, anything. Here’s his MySpace.”

At this point it’s unclear exactly what happened, although it seems to be that Joe and/or Pete definitely approached the meeting of Patrick with the idea that he was definitely not going to be the band’s drummer.

They go to Patrick’s house. We know exactly what Patrick was wearing because Pete tells us: He wore shorts, knee socks, and an argyle sweater. Pete thought this kid and his outfit were kind of amazing. Patrick, when he tells this story, say that his first impression of Pete was he thought he would be taller.

Patrick, apparently, sang. According to some accounts, he sang Through Being Cool. Pete said, “Yo, we’re going to make you our singer,” and Patrick was like, “But...I don’t really sing,” and Pete was like, “You definitely sing,” and Patrick was like, “I guess, man, whatever, can the band play my music?” because that’s really what Patrick wanted at that point, and Pete was like, “Sure.”

It was a joke band. Pete had a serious band. It would have been ridiculous for Pete to leave his band for this pop punk thing with a couple of kids. In fact, Patrick actually held songs back, kept them in his pocket, assuming the band wasn’t going to work out and he would need them for when he struck out on his own. He was building connections, he was using Pete Wentz for everyone he knew, he was hiding his favorite songs and riding this whole thing out.

But the thing about Pete Wentz: He’s smart. Always smarter than he acts. Joe in a Borders had stumbled across a one-in-a-million find, a kid with a once-in-a-lifetime voice, a huge reserve of natural talent, someone who was preternaturally good at music to make up for Pete’s lack of that. Pete looked at this kid and thought, He’s a golden ticket, and held on tight, and never really let go.

Patrick was a restless kid, with one foot half out the door. When he tried to quit the band, Pete said “NO, NO, THIS IS THE SERIOUS BAND NOW. I AM DEDICATING MYSELF TO THIS BAND.”

And he did.

He broke up with his other band and he devoted himself to Fall Out Boy. (In fact, Pete’s the one who originally registered their trademark, charmingly listing his AOL email as the band’s contact info. Letting one person in the band trademark the name is exactly what a lawyer would never want you to do, but, because Pete’s a good guy, he transferred the mark over to the band’s corporation once they were big enough to incorporate.)

And Pete said to himself, “We are getting ourselves a record deal, now that I have dedicated myself to this band.” This is how Pete is: If someone needs to make something get done, it’s Pete who does it, and if he has to be an asshole to do it, then so be it. Patrick, in the later years, will give interviews constantly defending Pete, marveling at the impression people have of him, begging people to understand that he’s a nice guy who’s a great friend (Patrick, of course, is Pete’s favorite, and the beneficiary of most of Pete’s single-minded get-it-done-ness, so he’s possibly somewhat biased).

So the band makes a demo. Pete goes to the guy who will eventually produce their first album and says, “Hey, I’ve got this, like, joke band, can you listen to it?” The producer was like, "Who's the singer?" And Pete was like, "Patrick. I think he said you recorded one of his former bands." Which was true. So the producer was like, "Patrick, the drummer kid?" and promptly never listened to the demo, because he was like, "Pete has lost his mind" and moved on.

And then eventually when he finally heard Patrick sing he was like, ......oh.

The producer is recording this other band, and this other band was, like, the first band in this particular Chicago scene who had made it this far. So this band has this deal and the producer is super stressed out about it because it's his first kind of chance to prove himself to a major label and the band, it turns out, is terrible with vocal harmony, like, just awful, and the producer is like, “What the fuck is this, we can't give the label this.”

So he tells the band they need to go out and find someone to do harmonies for them, and the band starts asking around, and hey, wouldn't you know it, a rumor had begun that you know who's aces at vocal harmony? That kid Patrick. (I BET I KNOW WHO STARTED THAT RUMOR.) So the band says to the producer, "We're getting Patrick to come do the harmonies" and the producer is like, "WHAT IS WITH EVERYONE AND THIS KID PATRICK ALL OF A SUDDEN.”

So Patrick comes in to the studio, and literally he is a child in high school. The producer remembered him as a fourteen-year-old, but he’s still only seventeen now. He had to keep calling his mom to extend his curfew. So Patrick comes in and they're all ordering lunch, so they ask Patrick what he wants and Patrick is like, "no, no, I don't want to eat anything before I sing," and the producer is like, "look at this pretentious kid.” So he's like, "okay, whatever, go record some stuff.”

And then Patrick starts singing.

And the producer is like, WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN HAPPENING.

And keeps Patrick in the recording booth for like thirteen hours or something, with no food, with Patrick periodically calling his mom to be like, “Nope, still recording.”

So then the producer went back and listened to Pete's demos.

You see, it was a slow gradual shift from joke band to “hang on, maybe something is going to come of this.” For everyone but Pete, who seems to have never doubted and always been all-in.

It starts with Take This to Your Grave.

No, it starts with Evening Out with Your Girlfriend, but Patrick is cranky about that one.

So it starts with Take This to Your Grave. They record fast and cheap, because they have no other option. Pete is hiding from his parents because he’s supposed to be in school. Patrick writes the songs and Pete nitpicks the lyrics so intensely that they have vicious fights about it and sometimes the rest of the band isn’t sure the album’s going to get made. Patrick is so annoyed at Pete’s rewrites that he has a sudden revelation: “Wow. I must really want to be in this band.” Even for Patrick, it has gradually gone from an opportunistic joke to a real possibility for a future. Patrick struggles to write lyrics with Pete, but eventually becomes so exhausted by Pete’s dedication to his particular ~~visions that he’s like, “OH MY GOD, IF YOU’RE GOING TO BE SO PICKY, YOU COULD JUST WRITE THE LYRICS AND I’LL WRITE THE SONGS AROUND THEM,” and Pete’s like, “Oh, cool, let me go get you all of my emo LJ entries we can use,” and so that’s how that arrangement starts: Pete feeds stream-of-consciousness poetry and Patrick makes music out of it.

The first song they write together successfully is “Saturday.” It’s the first song they don’t have a knock-down, drag-out fight over (and Patrick is not shy about throwing a punch at Pete at times). And it’s a song explicitly about them. The lyric reads “Pete and I attacked the Lost Astoria,” but Pete claims he wrote it with Patrick’s name and it was switched up for Patrick to sing. “Me and Pete,” Patrick sings at the end. And it’s this song -- this first song of successful collaboration, this song that’s all about them -- that they still play at the end of every concert. (In the video, Patrick plays a detective chasing down Pete’s charming serial killer whose calling card is the Queen of Hearts, until the plot twist where they’re actually the same person.)

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The buzz around their joke band is building. Their shows start turning into near-riots (because Patrick is just that good when he sings). Pete stage-dives into crowds and lets audiences shout lyrics at him. Where is your boy tonight? Boys like you are overrated. Two more weeks. They fantasize about playing bigger venues, not Wrigley or anything, because who would aim for that, but just shows where they’re getting paid in more than pizza. Pete is beating down the door at indie labels, with a strategy of landing them a small deal to build a fanbase before springing up to a major record label. He tours the band with exhausted determination, in a broken-down van. At one point, Patrick has to break the news to his family that he’s going to delay college because he’s got this band he’s in. They’re like, “What do you do in this band?” He’s like, “Oh, I’m the singer,” and his family is like, “...You sing?”

Because Patrick’s a singer because Pete saw it in him, Pete wanted him to be. Patrick sings Pete’s words; Pete sings through Patrick.

The producer finishes up Take This to Your Grave while they’re on tour. When they get back, Patrick is pleased with it. He’s the kind of perfectionist who spends all night on thirty seconds of feedback at the end of a song, but the producer knows what he was going for and Patrick’s happy.

Pete wants his screaming to be louder, so he goes back into the studio to re-record his screams.

Pete’s plan eventually works perfectly. They start small. They build a following. They land a major record label.

Pete Wentz suddenly finds himself, with his joke band, staring directly at the future he dreamed of.

And it drives him into a panic. He engineered their strategy. He held them together. He bought Patrick a hat when he worried about not wanting to see the audience while he sang, and he promised to be the frontman, the on-stage presence, the complement to Patrick’s musical talent. Together, he and Patrick are two halves of one perfect rock star.

And Pete Wentz is panicking.

(TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE)

The band keeps scrapping songs and writing new ones, unable to get exactly what they want. Pete, terrified of letting his band down, plummeting into a depressive episode of his bipolar disorder, isolates himself, handing lyrics over and then going back into hiding. Overwhelmed, he takes too much Ativan in a Best Buy parking lot. He says later he wasn’t trying to kill himself, just shut his brain up for a little while. (He talks often about needing a creative outlet; he writes often about his brain being a noisy place.) He says later that he remembers Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah” on the radio. He says later that he felt exhausted by the act of being Pete Wentz, that he was so much Pete Wentz for everyone that he forgot to be it for himself.

A phone call to his manager saves him. He doesn’t die in that Best Buy parking lot. He spends a week in the hospital before moving back in with his parents. His band goes to Europe without him, struggles through shows without their epicenter.

The suicide attempt is a discernible thread through Pete’s lyrics through the years. Also discernible, it seems, is a promise made to Patrick: not to do it again.

~~~~~~~~~

The band regroups. The band writes a number of songs in a frantic two-week session, including “Sugar, We’re Goin Down,” which Patrick claims later to write in ten minutes, fooling around, and then says to the band, “I just paid for our kids to go to college with this song.” The album’s producer agrees. He signs on after hearing their demos of “Sugar” and “Dance, Dance,” two songs he predicts will be smash hits.

They are. Only after Pete once again goes to bat for the vision he wants, because the record label hates the refrain of “Sugar,” calling it too wordy. Pete wins, in basically every way he could win.

His joke band’s a big deal now. His joke band gets nominated for a Grammy. Patrick, at the Grammy ceremony, realizes, “Huh. I...think I’m a singer now. I should probably take this seriously and, like, get lessons or something.” (This is, incidentally, why he’s so difficult to understand, as it was a while before he learned proper enunciation. In the beginning, he sometimes wrote songs out of his vocal range by accident.)

They tour. They write. They promote. Pete keeps up a steam of Q&A’s at their fan website, patiently giving advice on relationship break-ups and losing loved ones, and talking about how hot Patrick is whenever he gets a chance.

He makes up a string of nicknames for Patrick, then tells the fans they’re not allowed to use them, only Pete can use them.

(Patrick says later he has no nicknames, but Pete, as ever, makes his own reality.)

He says that he makes Patrick sing his favorite songs to him whenever he wants.

He says that Patrick is so perfect he basically dreamed him up.

He says that he always wants to be wherever Patrick is.

Patrick is his true blue.

Pete is always the source of Patrick’s loudest applause. Pete would take a bullet for him. “Patrick is the only reason anyone will ever listen to this band,” says Pete.

“Pete’s lyrics are ninety percent of the reason anyone listens to Fall Out Boy,” says Patrick.

They’re like that, these two.

They descend into what the New York Times at one point refers to as their “creative exclusivity.” They talk of never having a friendship ever before like the one they share. They reference cryptophasia in how they communicate. Their long-suffering bandmate Joe suggests they should just get married already, and they respond, “We are.”

Pete teases Patrick about wanting to do him, whispers in his ear at concerts, leans on him or curls close, kisses him on the cheek.

And always, they finish with Saturday.

They write Infinity on High quickly and easily and it’s a huge hit, but in the meantime Pete’s gone down in infamy with one of the first viral dick pic leaks and Patrick’s had to talk him out of quitting the band, the same way Pete did for him years earlier. Patrick goes into protective mode, defending Pete far and wide to anyone who will listen. Patrick gives interviews where he says he wishes people understood who Pete is, how he’s loyal to a fault, how he’s Patrick’s best friend. “What do you wish people knew about Fall Out Boy?” people ask him. “What do you wish people would ask you?” “How great Pete is,” Patrick says.

But, you see.

Patrick is tired.

They’ve been touring non-stop for years now. Patrick skipped college in favor of Fall Out Boy. Patrick has grown up on-stage next to Pete. And Pete’s five years older, but Patrick’s been supervising him all this time. Pete’s the sort who thinks it’s a good idea to jump off a roof holding a patio umbrella. Pete once took to throwing bowling balls overhand around a luxury hotel suite they were in. Patrick has perfected the rolling of his eyes and the careful, nonjudgmental removal of himself from the more questionable situations. When Pete, convinced he would die at the age of 27, turned 28, it was Patrick who received the calls of congratulations for having gotten Pete through.

And Patrick is tired.

And Pete is in a whirligig of fame. Patrick’s best friend is still shorter than he thought he would be, is still a good person to know, is still loyal and smart, is still a poet who sends Patrick lyrics for him to mine, picking together pieces from here and there, archeology of Pete’s soul. Patrick will say later that what he does is write the score for Pete’s life.

Pete is still his best friend. It’s just that Patrick’s best friend is now also very famous. They’re a big-deal band, and Pete is far more than the bassist. Pete is the showman; Pete is the onstage banter; Pete, Patrick will say, is the singer, he just sings through Patrick.

When Pete gets married, Patrick’s the best man, just as Pete will later be Patrick’s. But when Pete gets married, the wedding photos are on the cover of People Weekly.

Writing the album that will come to be Folie a Deux is a struggle. They fight more than they have in years. Patrick spends most of his time in the studio. Pete waltzes in and out, criticizing what Patrick’s doing. Once, they get into a physical fight over chord progressions. After phone conversations with Pete, Patrick throws things around the studio. Pete has descended into a haze of prescription pills, because Hollywood doctors will give you anything, and, hey, if a doctor handed them to you, it must be okay, right?

Patrick remembers touring for Folie as being a disaster. This is possibly for reasons other than the tour itself, because the rest of the band seems to disagree. At any rate, it is Patrick who asks for a break. Patrick says they need to take a breath or they’ll end up hating each other. Pete doesn’t seem to take this very well.

They release “What a Catch, Donnie,” a rare ballad that ends with a medley of their greatest hits. In the video, a lonely Patrick collects the detritus of Fall Out Boy’s success. He gets a happy ending, joined in the end by the rest of the band and all of their friends. Notably absent is Pete, who puts himself on a sinking ship and leaves everyone else partying joyfully without him.

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The hiatus begins.

Pete says it feels permanent.

Patrick embarks on what at first seems like a fun passion side project, and then increasingly gets more pressure put on it as the hiatus drags on and Pete says he can’t imagine ever playing for Fall Out Boy ever again, can’t imagine the band ever getting back together. Patrick is still writing songs for Fall Out Boy that he tucks away for “someday,” says he would still take a bullet for Pete Wentz, but it feels increasingly like maybe he’s a solo artist now.

Pete starts another band and finds himself a female lead singer, because, he says, he can’t replace Patrick. But they feel increasingly separate. Fall Out Boy feels increasingly in the past. Patrick tours on his solo material without his trademark hats. He bleaches his ginger hair blonde and sticks devil horns on his head. If once he had Pete for the showmanship side of rock-stardom, Patrick steps forward to be the whole thing now.

But the thing is. The thing is that one day Patrick posts an angry, frustrated, lonely, unhappy blog entry. Oversharing on the internet: used to be a Pete Wentz thing, becomes a Patrick Stump thing. But Pete Wentz knows what that kind of oversharing means.

Pete reads the entry. Pete considers his friend, furious at being a has-been at 27. Pete paces. Pete thinks about how tough it is to call your ex after a bad breakup. But Pete does it. The reunion sex might be great, after all.

Pete says to Patrick, “You need your band.” He says, “We built each other’s houses and you don’t even know my kid.” He says, “I need a creative outlet, can we try writing?”

He says Patrick agrees not because he wants to, but because he’s a nice guy.

But Patrick’s got Fall Out Boy songs tucked in a drawer somewhere. Patrick always wanted a pause, not a full stop.

They write.

They get nowhere the first session, but they write.

They write well enough to try it again, and then they write “Where Did the Party Go?”

And then they write.

They get the band back together. It takes Patrick six hours on the phone with Joe, Joe with his successful new projects and his butting up against Patrick’s stubborn control over the music, but Patrick makes promises and they get the band back together.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath for a Fall Out Boy reunion,” Pete tells the press.

The next day, there’s a Fall Out Boy reunion. There’s a new single, recycling a lyrical line Pete first wrote years earlier and that they liked enough to revive. There’s a new album, and on it is a song written by Patrick during the hiatus, about hot whiskey eyes. I miss you missing me, Pete wrote in a poem during the Folie era of their lives. I miss missing you, writes Patrick.

They tour. Not the tour of small venues they thought they would have because no one would care, even though that very first show people waited hours outside in the Chicago cold and the crowd was so loud Patrick could barely hear himself. No, they shift to arenas. Patrick has to find a way to sing live songs he thought they’d never tour on because no one would ever want to hear them.

They write another album, fast and easy like the old days. It’s history repeating but they get to do it right. They write songs with lyrics that say And in the end, I’d do it all again. And I think you’re my best friend. And I’m yours.

For the third album of their second chance, Pete writes, I’ve lived so much life God is gonna have to kill me twice. A far cry from the lyrics from the first album of their first chance: I read about the afterlife but I never really lived more than an hour.

They perform. Sometimes Pete still stage-dives. Always the crowd shouts his words at him. Always Patrick makes those words beautiful.

Always they end with me and Pete, in the wake of Saturday.

So.

That’s what I’ve been doing.

#long post #fall out boy #peterick #fob #bandom

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malachi-walker · 5 years

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Rhythm & Blues Worldbuilding: Magicats

Since I finally got the rock star au up here and I'm working on the next chapter, I thought I'd share some of the worldbuilding ideas I've incorporated or plan to incorporate regarding how a world shaped by hybrids in addition to plain old humans would differ from our own. And since Catra of course is the protagonist along with Adora, it'd behoove me not to start off with the Magicats. ;) Though I do plan on making a post later covering the other kinds of hybrids as well (also for the love of God, crew-ra, please give me names for their individual races so I don't have to come up with shit like "lizard-kin". I'm begging you.)

World building goodness under the cut.

Quick note: although I do draw some indirect inspiration from real world cultures (specifically the clusterfuck that was colonial condescension to anyone who wasn't them) I do deliberately try to avoid taking customs from any real world culture. Because that has... Unfortunate implications. So most of what I discuss here is stuff I came up with on my own, but if something does match up with the real world it is unintentional on my part and feel free to let me know.

Standing with the other races

Out of all the hybrids the Magicats tend to be the most isolationist and closed off to outsiders, partly because they have a very small population size to begin with and partly because they along with the lizard-kin got hit hardest with the animal/predator comparisons. Although the current world has mostly gotten over that bullshit apart from some racists (note: I specifically use the term racist instead of speciest because writing speciest makes my memories of my editing teachers screech in the back of my head, but also because a running theme in the rock star au is that hybrids are still PEOPLE and should be treated as such, and drawing attention to it with words like "species" kinda defeats that purpose.) the average person on the street still doesn't know a whole lot about Magicat culture, and most of what they do know likely comes from old stereotypes or really suspect sources rather than actual Magicats. This is improving as more Magicats make their way into the public sphere and the internet has opened up new pathways for their voices to be heard, but it is still a work in progress.

Biology

General rule of thumb for Magicats for me is finding good middle ground between cat characteristics and people characteristics. Good example is that unlike cats, Magicats can eat chocolate, but too much of it in a short amount of time can build up to toxic levels. There are apps available that let them keep track of how often they can indulge. Same thing with alcohol; alcohol and Magicats is similar to a person with a very mild, non-lifethreatening allergy, i.e. they can get shitfaced very quickly on a comparitively low amount and it takes a bit longer for their body to metabolize out of their system. This is actually based on personal experience with my dad, who only drinks once in a blue moon and is thankfully a very mellow/happy drinker, so watching him get sauced on one-and-a-half rum and cokes is a pretty fun time. XD

Other dietary considerations: they're not complete carnivores, but they do have a greater meat to other food groups proportion than humans. Like sixty-forty percent, and heavy carbs and starches make up the smallest percentage of their diet because it's harder for their digestive system to process. Their front two molars are pointed like a predator's but their back molars are flat like humans'.

Like Catra has demonstrated in show, they possess phenomenal reflexes and agility, as well as heightened senses of smell and hearing--the hearing in particular is their primary dominant sense alongside vision. Speaking of vision, like cats they are red colorblind and shades of yellow are washed out compared to what we would see, but they see the rest of the color spectrum just fine. But like humans, they have a sharper clarity of vision than a cat would and aren't nearsighted.

Oh, and while it probably won't come up in the series itself, they do experience a heat cycle about once per year, but unlike in most fanfics they are still fully in control of their faculties and decision making capabilities. A Magicat in heat is no more likely to be sexually attracted to someone than they would be outside of heat, and it really pisses them off when people imply otherwise. It's kind of like when a human woman has her period but also feels horny. So if they don't want to get with a partner they should be left alone or treated like any loved one dealing with a rough period: patience and warm blankets.

Cultural Stuff

We're getting into the fun stuff now, though some of it will be saved for a future fic where Catra takes the time to learn about her own culture during her three years of homelessness. (Also please note that a lot of these are just general touchstones and actual viewpoints may differ from Magicat to Magicat.)

1. Magicat culture is an interesting mix between interconnectedness and individuality

And by that I mean that as a culture, Magicats do consider themselves to be an interconnected unit and to have a responsibility towards one another to assist as needed. However, they also have an emphasis on the individual as a complete being in and of themselves. This shows up most prominently in interpersonal relationships: unlike humans, who place a great emphasis on things like monogamy and marriage and the solidity of family units, it's not uncommon to see Magicats who are single parents of any gender, or never have kids, or maybe have a lifelong partner but never get formally married. That's because their culture makes it clear that one person is already whole on their own, and while having a partner or family is always nice it's not a requirement. It's up to each individual Magicat to decide what they want out of their lives, and there's usually no judgment whether they decide to get married and have kids or just stay single for their entire lives.

With that said, if a Magicat decides to get formally married (as in making an actual declaration of "this is the person for me") it is a BIG DEAL. Because again, culturally speaking it isn't a requirement, so making that commitment is a huge deal for them, and they often make that permanent. So if a Magicat decides to settle down completely with a partner, they use freeze branding to permanently turn a section of their fur white in a way that look similar to a quarter sleeve tattoo in a very distinct geometric pattern*. That basically tells every other Magicat on sight that this person is wholly dedicated to their chosen beloved. Younger Magicats will also use cold branding to replicate tattoos like other races, but the marriage brand is always distinct, both due to the particular geometric design work and because it is always on their dominant arm, to signify that they are offering their strength to their beloved for the rest of their lives. If their partner is another Magicat they will also get a matching brand, otherwise it depends on the particular race (humans typically get tattoos.)

*My personal mental image of what this resembles is similar to Maori or Pacific Islander forearm tattoos, but not a 100% match because 1) cultural appropriation is gross and 2) the logistical practicalities of doing that via freeze branding would be insane. So that general vibe but simplified. Feel free to flex those imagination muscles.

And before anyone asks... This may or may not come up later in the au. ;) ;) ;)

2. They have certain social rules dealing with other Magicats.

These will be explored in greater depth during the fic, but basically a lot of Magicat etiquette centers around who the other Magicat is to you and stuff like location. For example, they'll typically use honorifics to refer to Magicats who have been teachers to them or assisted them in some way as a show of respect.

The most obvious rule of etiquette to outside observers is that whenever two Magicats meet for the first time and wish to demonstrate respect for each other, the one who approaches the other will come forward slowly until they are just a bit beyond arm's reach. They will then take a half step forward with the leg that corresponds to their dominant hand and then offer that arm to the other. This is the cue for the Magicat being approached to mirror the pose regardless of what their dominant hand is (up until then they will remain in a straight and relaxed position and wait for the signal.) Once this is done, the two will clasp forearms and briefly dip their heads forward into the other's space for a single shared breath before breaking apart. This is a sign that they are now free to move closer to one another and can now interact in a way that is indistinguishable from what outsiders would consider normal conversation between new acquaintances. The purpose of the greeting is for the one approaching to demonstrate their respect for the other and ask to be let into their space; telegraphing which arm they favor symbolizes showing someone a strength of yours and is a sign of trust.

Again, this doesn't apply to all Magicats and the younger generation in particular tends to eschew or pick and choose what etiquette they follow, but in general they do like it when the old traditions are observed, especially by younglings. They don't use this system of etiquette with other races and usually instead adapt their behavior to the person they're interacting with.

Other Misc. Details

I was originally going to have Catra be a motorcycle lesbian because duh, but while doing my due diligence in researching motorcyle safety I ran into a few reasons why that isn't a good idea.

The first is that part of the reason why motorcyle helmets work in the first place is because the evenly curved surface provides an equal distibution of force when striking something. This is why novelty helmets like ones with cat ears or stuff of that type are considered dangerous; they break up that curved surface and thus can't redistribute that force as evenly. So not only would a motorcycle helmet like ours be uncomfortable for a Magicat and disabling to one of their primary senses, trying to design one to accommodate their ears would increase the danger to them in case of an accident.

The second is that I've already established in the au that overheating is a constant concern for Magicats, and proper protective clothing for human motorcyclists already carries a huge risk of overheating us without the added consideration of having fur. So it would be a trade off between solid protection at heavy risk of personal discomfort and overheating or eschewing that protection and increasing the chance of serious injuries. And yeah, Magicats have good enough senses that they could probably backflip or throw themselves clear if they're about to crash, but just getting off the bike isn't gonna do much if you then smack into another vehicle at 60 mph.

And that's kind of a shame, because otherwise Magicats would be ideal safe motorcyclists. Their spacial awareness and sense of balance is phenomenal, and they'd be great at anticipating and reacting the movements of other drivers. I just couldn't make it work with rock star!Catra because she's a lot less reckless. Canon!Catra I could see taking the risk. Don't get me wrong: if you wanna make Catra a sexy, motorcyle riding catgirl you have my full support. I just couldn't justify it in this au.

Honestly, there'll probably be more later, but I'm tapped for now. Would love to hear what if any of you have any thoughts. And of course, if you like what you've read and haven't already, check out my rock star au under the Rhythm & Blues tag or the masterpost list. ;)

#my fics #worldbuilding #rhythm & blues #the catradora rock star au #magicats yo!#mildly nsfw?#in the sense that we talk about sex from a biological level #did I just write an entire essay on fanfic worldbuilding?#yes. because I wanted to and it makes me happy.

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hobiwonder · 5 years

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Commissions

Hi everyone!!

As you can tell by the title, I’m going to be opening commissions. As my part-time job starts up in January, I have decided to try making writing my casual job to earn some savings before I run out completely. It’s quite expensive in Australia especially to be a student without a job lol. I am actively applying for summer jobs but it’s a fat chance i’ll get hired this late for christmas casuals !!! (kms). I had been thinking about getting a ko-fi page but never felt my writing to be good enough lol BUT desperate times call for desperate measures hhhhhh.

So if you enjoy my writing, I’ll be writing personalised little stories for a ko-fi each. Doesn’t matter how many you want to give (one is $3).

The drabbles will be between 1000 to 2000 words.

Send me an ask choosing your prompt from the prompt list below. You can choose as many as you like and i will try my best to incorporate them all if they fit in one story.

Basically let me know in an ask: Prompt, Your name (if you want), any triggers I should avoid, physical appearance details in case I need them, age. Birth year is fine. AND THE MEMBER OFC LMAO

If you don’t like a prompt, you can also just give me a genre and i can surprise you :) (college au, barista au, etc.)

Write a nickname or a name in your ko-fi note so I can identify you and get started writing on your prompt. https://ko-fi.com/hobiwonder

Prompt list:

“That’s not yours.”

“Rot in hell.”

“Take off your shirt.”

“Ugh, you’re sweaty- get off.”

“Can we just pretend like we’re normal for once?”

“I dare you!”

“A kiss for good luck?”

“Just this once.”

“There’s something I have to tell you…”

“You’re making me think that what they told me about you was right.”

“Don’t get up, you’ll make it worse.”

“Cute, but still fucked up.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Be careful.”

“You owe me.”

“You never mattered to me.”

“Please don’t let me be alone.”

“How did you talk me into this?”

“That’s not good…”

“Don’t try to fix me. I’m not broken.”

“You’re cold.”

“Be you. No one else can.”

“You’re a horrible liar. I’ve known you far too long to be able to tell.”

“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.”

“I’m scared.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I’ll never forgive you.”

“Quit ignoring me.”

“You have my word.”

“Kiss me and i’ll forgive you.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“There’s nothing I can do anymore.”

“Even when you’re annoying the fuck out of me, I still love you.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“It was supposed to be a secret!”

“You’re my everything.”

“You need to keep pressure on it.”

“It’s never too late to get back up again.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Stop talking.”

“This isn’t like you.”

“This isn’t who I am.”

“Would you just hold still?”

“If I die, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“Come with me.”

“My clothes look good on you.”

“I will always protect you.”

“Wake up, please.”

“Please look at me.”

“When I’m with you, I’m home.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“Eyes on me.”

“Please shut up. Just shut up.”

“I’m tired, just cuddle me.”

“This is new.”

“I’m not okay.”

“Is that blood?”

“Run!”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“That’s a lot of blood…”

“I immediately regret this decision.”

“You’re hurt, let me help.”

“That doesn’t look good…”

“Is that my shirt?”

“How did we get in this mess?”

“Move over.”

“What if one day I wake up and you’re not there?”

“You know me better than anyone.”

“You backstabber!”

“What happened to you?”

“stop moving, i’m almost done!”

“Are you testing me?”

“Please don’t shut me out.”

“You make me forget.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“I’m not moving, your lap is comfortable.”

“Just this once.”

“I made a mistake.”

“I SAW you with him/her/them!”

“None of this is your fault.”

“It’s so hot out!”

“Just breath.”

“We have to help!”

“I just really miss talking to you.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I trust you.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

“They’re gone.”

“It just… hurts.”

“I think we’re lost.”

“You deserve so much better.”

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“I’m lost without you.”

“This is going to hurt.”

“I feel stupid.”

“I know you’re not talking to me…”

“What’s in it for me?”

“You’re everything to me.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“I didn’t want you to see this.”

“You’re safe now.”

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“You know me too well.”

“[text read thirty minutes ago]”

“I never want to see you again.”

“I know you lied to me.”

“Do you promise?”

“You know i’m not like that.”

“Am I dead?”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Do you ever mean the things you say?”

“I can take care of myself just fine.”

“You got this.”

“What are you hiding?”

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

“You’re sick.”

“I don’t know anyone else who can make me feel this way.”

“There is only one bed.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“How dare you?!”

“I’m sorry I scared you, I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m not even sorry.”

“can we just stay in bed?”

“That was kind of hot.”

“But I thought you liked this?”

“You… you never had a problem with it before.”

“I know it hurts.”

“What did you say?”

“How long will this go on for?”

“I’m just tired.”

“What have you’ve done?”

“Go back to sleep.”

More Prompts...:

Angst

“All I wanted was a happy ending.”

“Mistakes are easily made in the moment. Apologies are not.”

“I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“My emotions have been turbulent for so long, I’m not sure how to react.”

“My heart tells me to kiss you, my head tells me to walk away.”

“I don’t want material belongings! I want my heart back!”

“Until you can return the time I wasted on you, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Grief is natural they say. So is death. I don’t want either.”

“You can’t look pretty and dangerous at the same time. Not yet.”

“Kill everything dear to you and then you will know how it feels.”

“I don’t hold people close. It makes it easier for them to hurt you.”

“Don’t touch me. Your skin is poison.”

“Why won’t he/she/they call?”

“I’m dreading her/his/their call, I’m not ready.”

“I don’t like this, it feels weird.”

“Kill my feelings, kill my soul. Kill everything I am.”

“Don’t call me, I don’t want any contact with you.”

“Please don’t talk to me, I’m dealing with some stuff.”

“It’s not working out. We’re not working out.”

“Hey, I’m leaving for good. I’ll…see you around.”

Fluff

“I want to eat a yoghurt with you.”

“Can we make cake? I like cake.”

“I like your rainbow shoes.”

Please hold me. It’s been a day.”

“I’ve never felt such love.”

“The moon is high tonight, it frames you well.”

“I want to dance through an army of fireflies with you.”

“Stars pale in comparison to you.”

“My heart hurts when I see you and I find myself drunk on the pain.”

“I would give up everything for the chance to see your laugh again.”

“Monster Inc. was onto something, your smile and laughter runs my entire world.”

“I dedicated this nail to you, when I painted them.”

“All I want is to sleep by your side.”

“Cover me in badges of your love.”

“I’ve never enjoyed anything more than a hug from you.”

“You look yummy.”

“My hand was made to fit into yours. That’s all there is to it.”

“I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

“This might sound so creepy but I want your skin. It’s so pretty.”

“You just dropped love into my heart and that’s all I needed.”

Soulmates

“It was a matter of time before we got together.”

“My soul sings when it feels you.”

“Please, please hold my hand, and make me whole.”

“My life missed yours forever.”

“If my soul had been cut in half at birth, it would have gone to you.”

“We’re two bodies with one soul only.”

“I couldn’t imagine my future without you now that I have you.”

“I feel like I’ve died now he’s/she’s/they’re gone.”

“Please take my soul and never let go.”

“I’ve never seen colour like I do with you.”

“All my soul yearns for is your presence.”

“We can’t win. Either I have you and my soul sings but your cries, or we’re apart and your soul rejoices but mine dies.”

“Time is what we don’t have, but you are what I need.”

“I didn’t think I could find someone as perfectly matched as you.”

“Please treat me with kid gloves, my soul can’t take much more.”

“Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.”

“This existence would mean little without you.”

“Why try to force it? If we’re truly soulmates, it’ll happen.”

“Please keep me close until the close of the final day.”

“Everything about you is amazing to me.”

Friendship Specifically

“Wow, that is a ridiculously bug watermelon. I love it.”

“Let’s drink wine and trash talk our co-workers.”

“What do you mean you’re sick?! You’re my partner in crime!”

Best friends are a rare breed and you are the best of best friends.”

“Everyone’s out on dates, want to each ice cream and binge watch (insert TV show/movie).”

“I’m here for you. I got your back.”

“Thank God for the internet. I don’t know how I’d live without you.”

“I’m the pun-master, you’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

“No one understands the effort of a long distant friendship.”

“They don’t approve of our friendship, but I don’t need them too.”

“In the end we migrate towards comfort. I am my most comfortable around you.”

“Why date when you can spend the night with me watching shitty TV and drinking.”

“Never underestimate friendship.”

“If you quote Yu-Gi-Oh’s power of friendship one more time I will kill you.”

“Even if we don’t talk for days, I’ll always be your best friend.”

“You can take as many breaks as you need.”

“Friendships can be difficult, but those that survive are magical ones.”

“You know I will be with you forever. Friends until the end.”

If they try to keep us apart, they’re idiots.”

“There’s nothing like a boys/girls/friends night.”

I would really appreciate anyone helping out. My writing definitely isn’t the best but i hope whatever I write for any of you; you will enjoy and feel it will be worth it. Even if you’re not interested, a reblog would be much appreciated!!

Thank you :)

Maria <3

#bts fanfction #bts x reader #comisionwork #hobiwonder

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

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Life Lessons

Summary: you knew with the changes in your environment at home, you son Daehwi was bound to show signs at school. What you weren’t ready for was the support from his teacher, Mr Hwang.

notsosubtlekpop said:

Requests?!?! Well, you know what I would request, if you feel so inclined 😂

Pairing: Hwang Minhyun x reader ft. Daehwi

Genre: teacher au / parent au / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 2925

This has since become a two part series. Link to part 2 can be found at the end of this story.

You weren’t ready for this to begin. You had believed you had several years left up your sleeve until you got called into school to meet with your son’s teacher. After all, Daehwi was only six years old. What kind of havoc could he cause in the first week of school?

But you knew your son and his rambunctious ways, and as you hurried along the corridor to his classroom, you resigned yourself to the fact you were in for all sorts of things this year.

Coming to a halt outside the room you had dropped your son off at earlier in the morning before work; you took a steadying breath and rapped your knuckles on the door. You expected the teacher to call out for you to enter, but the door opened instead and you were greeted by Daehwi’s teacher.

Wait, wasn’t he a she earlier this morning? You flushed with colour at your mistake. “Oh, I think I have the wrong room.”

“Mrs L/N?” the teacher asked, smiling welcomingly at you. You blinked several times, trying to open your mouth to say something in return. Like correcting the title he had just given you.

But words seemed to be a lost cause, much like your thought process in the handsome teacher’s company.

You followed the tall man across the room, barely taking in the various art projects that had clearly filled the afternoon of class today. The teacher gestured to a chair and you glanced at it, noticing how small it was. He chuckled at your obvious stare. “Ah, the joys of teaching six-year-olds. Sorry, I don’t have any adult sized ones to offer you unless we go into my office. I thought it would be more welcoming to have our chat in here. They’re stronger than they look.”

You smiled meekly and took a seat, laughing at how ridiculous you felt as you adjusted yourself on the little chair. You glanced over at the man who now sat with his knees up far too high for it to look all that comfortable. He grinned and the tension you felt coming in to see Daehwi’s teacher subsided.

Until you realised you were still confused as to who he was. “I uh, thought Daehwi’s teacher was female this morning.”

“Oh, that would be Ms Kim. She helps out in the classroom in the mornings. She’s a teacher’s aide.”

“I see.”

He grinned and then his mouth fell ajar briefly, before he threw his hand out at you, a tinge of colour flushing his cheeks as he chuckled. “Sorry! I know who you are, but you don’t know me. I’m Daehwi’s teacher, Mr Hwang. But you can call me Minhyun.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it. You ignored your reaction to the way he held your hand and pulled it back, looking around the room before settling your eyes on Mr Hwang.

Minhyun.

“So uh, the message I received stated that Daehwi caused an issue today?”

Minhyun nodded, his expression turning solemn. “He is a really lovely kid, and whilst I can see no harm was intended, well, Daehwi was a little bit opinionated today and it made a couple of children in class upset.”

“I see.” You cringed, knowing that the teacher was downplaying it. You knew just how opinionated Daehwi could be.

And how adamant he was even if he had come to the wrong conclusion about something. You could still remember when you had taught him all about the colours and yet he was certain the sky was green, even if he could point out what blue was immediately from anything else.

But what colour the sky was wouldn’t be something that could get him in trouble right away. Kids say the funniest things and you were certain Mr Hwang had heard his fair share of amusing anecdotes over his years of teaching.

Minhyun cleared his throat before continuing. “I uh, just wanted to warn you perhaps about what he hears between you and your partner or husband. Whilst it’s not really my place to discuss what may or may not be said within the home, Daehwi was adamant in telling all the children at his table that fathers are useless jerks.”

You gasped, your face flooding with colour whilst Minhyun smiled weakly. You could tell he was uncomfortable, but not nearly as much as you were in this moment. For the umpteenth time this year, you felt like a failed parent.

“I’m so sorry, I never expected… you see Daehwi’s father left us earlier in the year and, oh my god I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

The teacher’s smile turned encouragingly and he nodded his head. “It’s good for me to know that there is a transitional period happening with him at home.”

“It’s my fault, I should have triple checked that he was asleep,” you continued, blinking back your tears. Minhyun was up and soon returned with a box of tissues, placing them on the table. He didn’t offer you one outright and you appreciated that, knowing had he, you would have turned into a blubbering mess. That was something you weren’t quite prepared to become in front of your son’s teacher. You had already cried far too much in front of everyone, especially Daehwi. You internally mourned for the trauma you and your ex had placed upon your child.

“We all have hard times as parents and sometimes we don’t always notice that our kids are picking up on more than what’s said. I’m sure Daehwi just wants to protect you and has chosen to vent his anger towards his paternal figure.”

You nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry again.”

“I just wanted you to know. He’s not in any trouble; I managed to distract them all from the heated conversation and will ensure to make sure that we incorporate healthy ideas in the classroom about different ways families exist. It’s actually a good thing in some ways, as we can all learn from this experience through an upcoming module.”

Just then, your son ran into the classroom, tackling his teacher who laughed heartily. “Mr Hwang, you have taken up far too much of Mummy’s time!”

“Daehwi!”

The teacher nodded happily. “You’re right, I have! Shall I let you go home now?”

“Yes please!” Daehwi then turned to you. “Can we get ice-cream on the way home?”

“We’ll see about that,” you informed and Daehwi pouted before yanking on your hand to help you up. You stood up and nodded gratefully at Mr Hwang. He smiled and waved you off.

Despite talking with Daehwi on the way home that day, it wasn’t your last time being called into school. You were seeing far too much of Minhyun after class and now you were both on a first-name basis. You no longer were meek and wounded in front of the teacher; rather, you spent a lot of time trying to come up with strategies to assist Daehwi with his misplaced anger. You could tell Minhyun was a hub of resources and the ideas he gave you were definitely working within the home. You were thankful that the meetings soon became positive ones and your son was settling into his new routine of school with little disruption.

You realised it was also helping you heal from the separation and pain you felt from being cheated on. Although you had no desire to date any time soon, you humoured your best friend when she showed you a notice on the community board in the grocery store.

“Look, it’s a group for single parents to meet up.”

“I don’t need that, Nara.”

“Y/N, you could meet some people who could connect with you more than someone like I can. I don’t even have a kid and as much as I love my adopted nephew as if he were my own, I don’t always understand what you go through with Daehwi. These people will.”

You paused in pushing your cart out to the car, pondering the idea. And then you scrunched your nose up. “I don’t think so. It’s probably just a place where people get together and whine about how hard it is to raise kids alone.”

“So? Don’t you do just that to me at times about Daehwi?”

“I do,” you agreed, smiling weakly. “I mean, I want to meet with people who feel empowered and have positive things to say too. I’ve been learning a lot of great tips for positivity in the house from Daehwi’s teacher and-”

“Ooh, Mr Hwang!” Nara cut in dreamily and you reached out to swat her away. Nara laughed and nudged you. “That teacher has been a blessing for you and Daehwi, I’ll admit. But I think you might be harbouring a crush on him.”

“Nara, don’t be silly. I couldn’t date my son’s teacher.” It sounded so odd just saying that out loud and your face flushed with colour.

“You like him!”

“He’s probably married.”

“Does he have a wedding ring on his finger?” Nara continued and you sighed exasperatedly at her.

“If I promise to go to one of these meetings will you stop going on about Minhyun?”

Nara grinned knowingly at your use of his first name but nodded firmly. You took the flyer from her hand and placed it into your bag, unloading your groceries into your car and hoping one meeting was all you would need to commit to.

The solo parents’ meeting wasn’t what you had expected. Sure there were people were littered around the room chatting about what their kids had or hadn’t done before the session was called to order. But there was a lot of structure and you were surprised when a guest speaker started talking about what impacts parenting alone can have on a child and the parent itself. You walked away not only pleased with what you learned during the session, but with the contacts for a couple of really friendly parents who made you feel welcomed. You signed your name up for the following meeting and counted down the days until Thursday arrived again. You were earlier this time, having dropped your son off at his grandparents for the night and decided to go out for dinner after the meeting as a treat to yourself. You greeted the few faces already around the room and went over to the table to collect your name badge the coordinators had out ready for the parents. You found someone staring at your name and gasped when you recognised who it was.

“Minhyun?” you asked and the tall man turned to face you, somewhat startled to see you there. He recovered and reached for your badge, handing it over. “Do teachers come along to these nights to learn from the guest speakers?”

He nodded softly. “Well, I’m sure there are a lot of various professions mingling around this room. Parents have jobs outside of the home too. I mean, that’s why you’re here right?”

“Yeah, I came last week and learned a lot.”

“You will, these sessions have helped me immensely. Some of the stuff I shared with you didn’t all come from experience but from what I picked up here,” he explained though you looked up at him in confusion. A tinge of colour crossed his face from your continued stare and he visibly jumped when another person greeted him.

“Minhyun, it was so sad you missed last week. Is Sohyunnie feeling better now?” The coordinator looked at you beside him and grinned. “Oh, you have already met our newcomer. Y/N, Minhyun is one of the parents who helped in the beginning set this all up. It’s been just over two years now, hasn’t it?”

“Something like that,” he mumbled and you nodded softly, watching Minhyun still. Not once had you considered his help came from a place of understanding what it was like to parent alone. You believed he had some amazingly normal life, and you almost laughed out loud at your quick assumption.

And the fact that you now realised there were so many ways of being normal. Your previous thinking had been so narrow-minded.

Minhyun glanced at you and then gestured to the chairs to take a seat upon. Once there, he angled himself towards you. “I have a daughter. I’ve been raising her alone for the past three years so I know what it’s like to think you’ve failed as you did when I first met you. I can’t guarantee it gets any easier; there have been times where I thought I was doing everything wrong by Sohyun. Having a group like this to turn to for advice and strength when it all feels so wrong has really helped me. I guess that’s why I poured time into helping you with Daehwi because I understood how lost you feel when it’s all suddenly different.”

“I feel so foolish; I was so self-absorbed and just thought you were a teacher who went the extra mile with your students.”

Minhyun grinned. “Well, that, regardless of being a parent, is a trait of mine.”

“Is it bad that I feel some sense of relief from finding out about you also being a solo parent?” you asked and he shook his head, still smiling. “It’s nice to know someone already in my world who understands what I’m kind of going through.”

“I admit, it’s been comforting helping you with Daehwi too.”

You shared a smile with him before the session was called into order and once again, you felt like you were in a magical place full of wisdom. Except, this time, you got to see how the words of those around you affected Minhyun, and share knowing glances with him in between scenarios that you both related to. You hadn’t felt this fulfilled in forever.

Stepping out after the meeting, you lingered in the foyer, waiting for Minhyun to catch up. When he reappeared, you smiled brightly at him. “Do you have to go home to Sohyun now?”

“No, she’s with my sister for the night. Daehwi?”

“With my parents.”

“Have you eaten yet?” “Would you like to go for coffee?”

You both laughed at your predicament and then you nodded. “I haven’t had dinner yet. If you want, you could join me?”

“That would be great, I barely had a chance to stuff half a sandwich in before coming tonight,” Minhyun mentioned and then pointed to a local restaurant down the road. You nodded in agreement and you both started walking in that direction.

For some reason, you began to feel flutters in your stomach about going somewhere alone with Minhyun. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t spent a lot of time alone with him so far, but the difference was you weren’t surrounded by charts showing the alphabet or colourful pictures on the wall. And despite just being with a bunch of parents just now, this was a rare occasion for you to be with an adult and do adult stuff.

You swallowed at the feeble romantic voice inside your head trying to title this as a date.

Minhyun cleared his throat and you glanced up at him, blinking away your juvenile thoughts. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“Do you think whilst we eat dinner we could do something different from what we normally do?”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he started and despite the plume of darkness that surrounded you now that the sun was long gone from the sky, the streetlamps allowed for you to see yet another tinge of colour surface on his cheeks. Did Minhyun always blush like this or was it because you were with him outside of his usual teaching habitat?

“All we’ve done is talk about Daehwi, and now Sohyun, since we’ve known each other. Which makes sense given our initial connection.” He took a deep breath. “Do you think tonight we could just talk about us instead?”

“Us?” you repeated, feeling your stomach rejoicing far too prematurely. Minhyun coughed awkwardly and you surmised his slip-up hadn’t been in the way you immediately thought. “Oh, you mean about ourselves. Sure, I don’t get a lot of time in my day to have adult conversations with people.”

“I was hoping you would see it more as getting to know more about each other to see if there could be an us,” he admitted shyly and you snapped your focus back to his face. “If you feel comfortable with it being like that, that is.”

“As in, how you would on a date?” you questioned and Minhyun nodded.

You felt your cheeks burn from how happy you suddenly felt. And then you faltered. “Is it appropriate for a teacher to date their student’s mother?”

“Well, it’s not normal conduct, I guess.” Minhyun smiled down at you, offering out his hand. “But as one parent to another, shouldn’t we explore feelings if we experience them?”

You didn’t hesitate to slip your hand into his, his comforting grip making your heart thump faster.

You weren’t looking for someone to come into your world and shake it up even further than it had been earlier in the year. And you were sure that you would stumble and fail along the way with dating Minhyun too, if this actually progressed that far. But if there was one thing you had discovered over the past year, it was that life was all about learning.

And you couldn’t wait to learn more about Hwang Minhyun.

_________________

Next: Defining Roles

[NUEST Masterlist] | [WANNA ONE Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years

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Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 19)

22 part AU written for @cssns. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,Part 14, Part 15,Part 16, Part 17, Part 18. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! After a good while away I am back with another chapter of Lost Souls and Reveries. As has happened in the past, I went to write the chapter I had briefly outlined only to realize I couldn’t accomplish everything in one installment. There’s still quite a bit of story left I have to incorporate, and some loose ends I have to tie up, and hopefully everyone can follow along. For clarity’s sake, just know that the bulk of this chapter is told from Killian’s POV, and at the end there’s another POV. No spoilers, but more will become clear by the end of this this chapter and the next. Also it’s kind of an intense scene that we end on, so for my more light-hearted readers feel free to skip and ask me what happens. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and hope you all enjoy!

“Do we really have to go? It’s not too late to bail. We could go to the beach, or a run in the woods. Ooh, maybe we could get a root canal! That would be great compared to this.”

Killian chuckled at Emma’s commentary as they walked along the lane that lead to her parents’ home. They were en route to a ‘wedding brainstorm session’ with Emma’s mother, and though Killian had known Mary Margaret Nolan for some time now, he wondered if either her or Emma could really be ready for what was to come. For the next few hours, Mary Margaret was undoubtedly going to present them with roughly one million tiny questions about their impending wedding, very few of which would seem to really matter. For Killian, there were only three things he cared about. The first was that he wanted to marry Emma. The second was that he wanted to marry her soon. And the third was that he wanted her to be happy with the wedding. He didn’t give a damn about anything else. If Emma wanted it, she would have it, and that was the end of that. Unfortunately though, Killian knew one thing Emma did not want, and it was all of this over the top planning. His mate was hardly high maintenance, and though she’d talked to him casually about some things she might like for their special day, they were simple requests that mostly aligned with classic traditions.

“Sorry, love. I’m afraid we’ve no dental disasters in our future for the time being.”

“So the beach then?” Emma asked hopefully and Killian smiled as he shook his head. He hated to deny her anything, but at the same time he knew Emma was only teasing. She’d given her word that they would come today, and his love was a woman of character. She never broke a promise, and she always abided by her commitments.

“I promise you, Emma, that as soon as this is done, I will make it up to you.”

He pulled her into his arms as they stopped walking, and instinctively he moved her hair back to get a better look at her admiring her effortless beauty. He could see that her jokes right now were coming from a place of stress, and he meant what he said. Tonight, when all of this was done, he had a plan in place. He’d make them dinner, run her a bath, and then spend the next handful of hours ravishing her so thoroughly that all memory of wedding annoyances would flee her mind. His body hardened at the thought of what he would do with his gorgeous mate, and a low growl emanated from his chest before he could even think to stop it.

“Oh really?” she asked, her initial surprise at his claim soon giving way to lust and want and need that burned hot in her green eyes.

“Aye. We’ll have no wasted days, love. And since this first part might be fatiguing, we’ll have to see to it that the rest of the day is exactly what we want.”

Though they were out in the open and just a few steps from her parents’ home, Killian couldn’t resist running his hands along Emma’s body, and he reveled in the moment where she shivered, as a thrill of anticipation rolled through her. Her eyes dilated, and she wet her lips absentmindedly, and with such an invitation he couldn’t help but steal a taste of his own. When their lips met, he nearly groaned out in relief. Yet though it was painful to break apart so soon, he eventually had to pull back so that they could face the morning’s responsibilities.

“Okay, you win. But the second we can get away with leaving, we’re out of here, got it?” He nodded, prompting a light laugh from Emma before her eyes took on a thoughtful quality. “If we’re lucky maybe we can round up everyone else and have a cookout or a bonfire, then we can get to whatever it is you’ve got planned, which I’m sure will be perfect.”

Killian readily agreed, knowing that as much as Emma loved him, she also loved her friends who were more like family than anything else. He could never resent that, in fact, he embraced it, and he was just as eager to see them and Liam and Ruby. A night with their friends would be well deserved after all of this, he was sure, and he was glad for their new plan as Emma slipped her hand in his again and they made their way to her parent’s house. But as they walked up the front pathway, they heard a booming noise come from the backyard. It sounded like a huge fuse system had just been detonated, followed swiftly by Mary Margaret’s excited voice:

“Oh, David! Isn’t it wonderful? It looks just like how I pictured it!”

“Oh Jeez, better see what she’s got going,” Emma said, pulling him around the house, and though Killian smiled at his soon to be wife’s sarcasm, his smile dropped as soon as they stepped in the backyard.

“What the bloody hell is that?” he whispered and Emma barked out a laugh. But it wasn’t a laugh based in humor. Rather, it was the sound of someone so startled and confounded that they were becoming a little bit manic. Killian could hardly blame her for the reaction.

Because there, staring them in the face, was a light display that was… well, fucking gigantic to put it mildly. It was taller than he and Emma, and it had their names on it along with about a hundred hearts. It was gaudy and loud, and Killian couldn’t imagine there was a building within twenty miles that was suited for such a massive sign. For the moment though it was perched up against the Nolan’s barn, and Killian just couldn’t wrap his mind around why or how it had even gotten there.

“Please tell me you didn’t buy that, Mom,” Emma said, loud enough for her parents to realize they were back here. David, for his part, looked almost amused, and most certainly relieved at Emma’s comment, but Mary Margaret seemed downright perplexed.

“Well no, it’s just a sample. Your grandmother thought it would be best to hold off on any actual purchases. The letters are interchangeable, and the company brought it over for us to take a look with just a small deposit. But it’s so beautiful. I mean, who doesn’t want their name in lights on such a special day?”

“Mom this is supposed to be a small, classic wedding, not a blockbuster movie premiere,” Emma stressed, and Killian was glad they were on the same page, but he knew they’d hit a wall when Emma’s mother’s face fell. She looked genuinely hurt, and Killian knew that would only bring pain to Emma.

“You’re onto something with the lights, though,” Killian said, squeezing Emma’s hand in a sign of reassurance when her head whipped around to look at him. “But maybe something smaller? Twinkle lights would be perfect, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God, you’re so right!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, shaking her head at the sign now as if she’d only just realized how horrendous it was. “Fairy lights would be amazing! Like stars, or fireflies. Oh, there’s so much we could do with those! I’ll call the company right now and let them know.”

“Mary Margaret, maybe that could wait?” David offered calmly. “Emma and Killian are here now. It’s probably best to ask them all your questions first.”

“Right. Good thinking. Anyway, I have some more things to show you guys…”

And boy did she ever. It might have been normal for Emma’s mother to produce a binder with ideas for her only daughter’s special day. But one apparently didn’t do the visions Mary Margaret had justice. She pulled up a large box in a surprising show of strength for someone her size, and from the view alone Killian could see at least six. Given the space inside the box, he would be there were at least a dozen binders in total, and when he looked at David to silently inquire if this was all, Emma’s father gave a slight shake of his head. Bloody hell, they would be here all week at this rate!

Over the next few hours the constant stream of questions and decisions remained ever-flowing. There was no slowing down and no breaks in sight, and Killian for one felt his energy waning. Emma was clearly having the same problem, and with each new query, she leaned against him a little more, her face showing signs that she was more and more fatigued. Indeed, the only person with the stamina for this kind of festive frenzy was his soon to be mother in law. No one else even came close, but none of them had the chance to get off the ride. It just kept going on and on and on.

“So I spoke with the florists and after a little cajoling I finally got them to guarantee any and all arrangements we deem fit. At first they tried to tell me that certain flowers weren’t ‘in season,’” Emma’s mother explained while making skeptical air quotes. “Which is, of course, ridiculous. But eventually they came around. I just need to know what you guys think. I’ve got ten design options for you both to consider -,”

“Wait, ten?!” Emma asked, interrupting her mother who had pulled out her forth binder of the day, aptly labeled ‘Flower Ideas.’ “Mom, you can’t be serious. This is so much work, just for flowers for one day?”

“They’re not just for one day, Emma,” her mother said, sounding almost wounded at the insinuation. “This is going to be one of the most magical days of our life!”

Emma’s father chose that moment to return with water for all of them, after excusing himself from a very lengthy conversation about table settings, and though Killian could see that he wanted to laugh at his wife’s unending enthusiasm, he held it in, and instead cleared his throat and gave Mary Margaret a knowing look.

“I think you meant Emma and Killian’s life, right honey?”

“Well I actually meant…” Mary Margaret looked liable to contradict that statement, but then she read her husband’s face and understanding seemed to dawn on her. “Uh, right, absolutely. It’s your day, one hundred percent. But what you’re forgetting Emma is that while we might only get a few days with the flowers, the pictures are forever.”

“And the memories,” David agreed, coming to sit by his wife and smiling as he took her hand. “No matter how much time passes, it will always be with you. The day you say ‘I do’ to the person who means the most is one of the best you’ll ever know.”

It was heartwarming to see Emma’s parents be so much in love all these years after they had found each other and promised each other forever. Undoubtedly, their love was strong, so much so that Killian believed it rivaled what it felt like to have a fated mate. Who knew? Maybe they actually were mates, but they just didn’t have that precise bond because David’s shifter self had always remained separate from his human soul. Either way, Killian looked to Emma’s parents as an excellent example of what true love and commitment looked like. They were a partnership that was patient but still passionate. Sometimes they acted like kids still, and there had been more than one moment where Emma was embarrassed at how in love her parents still seemed to be, but they had the beautiful benefit of age and a life spent happily together. They were tied together in the best of ways, both standing tall alone, but shining brighter as a couple.

“Okay that is admittedly very sweet, Dad, but you’re not distracting me from this. She just said she has ten choices. As in double digits! And I’m willing to bet anything that’s just for one part of the wedding. There are definitely multiple arrangements, and these ten don’t even cover those, do they?”

Killian bit back a groan when Emma’s mother nodded, but it helped that she at least had the sense to look guilty for the first time all day. For Emma though, this seemed to be a breaking point. Killian felt her tension rise to a new high, and she stood in her chair suddenly. They’d been holding hands throughout this, and she seemed like she might let go, but Killian didn’t want that. Instead he rose with her, and when she looked at him he silently conveyed that whatever she wanted to do, he would back her up. She looked relieved and then directed her frustration back at her mother.

“Look, Mom, I know you mean well, and I love you, I really really do, but this is just getting ridiculous. We’ve been here for hours, answered a hundred questions, and I don’t think we’ve even made a dent in your planning. At this rate I’d honestly rather go to city hall today, with no muss and no fuss.” Despite the fact that her mother audibly gasped and raised a hand to her chest dramatically, Emma continued on. “Because it’s not really about the flowers or the lighting or the silverware, Mom. This wedding is about Killian and I spending the rest of our lives together.”

Emma’s words filled Killian with pride. Yes, he knew Emma’s mother would be hurt in some ways by the sentiment, but it made him happy to know Emma felt as he did. The wedding itself wasn’t the focal part of all of this. It was the marriage and the union between them that mattered most. In his heart, they were more than married already. Mates were forever, in this life, and any lives hereafter. But he did want the traditional human component too. He wanted everyone to know he belonged to Emma, and she belonged to him, but he agreed that the rest of the details, as nice as they may be in the end, didn’t hold nearly as much weight in his eyes at all. Still, as stern as Emma was being right now, he also knew that city hall wedding would never happen. This would all get figured out. It was just a matter of when and how.

“Perhaps we could just take a moment. I think a walk would do us some good,” Killian offered, looking to David for back up. Clearly a little space could be of some use, and David immediately understood.

“I think that’s a great idea. And we’ll be here, whenever you two are ready.”

Emma nodded in agreement, and the two of them set out farther behind the house where Emma had grown up. Despite the agitation that had just been facing them, there was no denying the beauty of this home. As he gazed upon the garden and the lush green land all around, Killian thought of what it must have been like to grow up here. Emma had such good things to say about so much of her childhood, and knowing her as he did, Killian could just picture how it all was. She’d have been here, happy, and peaceful and carefree, reading her favorite stories under the willow tree, running around with her little brother in the open field, and imagining whole new worlds with Anna and Elsa. Though he’d seen pictures, Killian didn’t need them to recall some of those memories. Their being mates meant their souls were intertwined, and so Killian could look upon this place and practically feel the happiness that his love experienced here. It calmed him to be in such close proximity to good feelings, even as the aggravation Emma carried from before still lingered.

“I hate to be angry with her,” Emma admitted, when they’d come to stop under the giant willow that defined this back-yard space. Underneath the hanging greenery, they were sheltered away. A natural curtain separated them from the world, and that barrier seemed to help Emma speak the thoughts that troubled her mind. “I love my Mom, and I love the life she and my Dad game me here. I never wanted for anything. Not for a long, long time.”

Emma’s eyes softened as she looked around this spacious, canopied hide away and Killian followed suit. The tree was old and majestic. It sang a soothing song when the wind cut through the leaves, and it was cool here, shaded by an entity that signaled strength and peace. It was immediately apparent that Emma was familiar with this spot, and Killian imagined she must have come here countless times before. Picturing a young Emma automatically made Killian think of their future children, and more specifically the child on the way. Not that he’d ever really forgotten, but still the rush of remembrance coursed through him in the best of ways. Instinctively, his hand come over where their child was now growing, and Emma hummed out a sound of contentment as her own hand came to cover his.

“There’s no denying that your parents have given you all that they could, Emma, and I hazard to guess that that is what your mother wants now too.”

“I know that. I do, Killian. But the problem is that when we use up all this time on these tiny, seemingly unimportant things, I feel like it’s a waste. Spending time with my mother is a blessing, I know, and there are parts of a wedding we should share, and will share that will bring us both joy, but this roaming around in the weeds thinking about party favors and which specific brand of tea lights to use isn’t that. Time is precious, life isn’t guaranteed, and I want all of us to make the most of every moment we have. Even if I do believe we’ll all have years of them to come, I just…”

Emma trailed off, her eyes casting away from his as she struggled to find the words. Again Killian felt the intensity of their mental link together, and he knew, without having to ask, that she was thinking of his mother. Time was the one thing his mother never had enough of, and knowing that life could be cut short like that made Killian of the same mindset. There was no need to be wasteful. If they could all be happy, then they should chase that, and since his happiness was irrevocably tied up in Emma’s, Killian was determined to see his mate made brighter.

“You just don’t want to live with regret. You don’t want to wake up one day and think that you should have done something different. You want to realize what’s most important while we’re living it instead of after the fact.”

“Exactly,” Emma said, closing her eyes and sighing into him, taking comfort in his instinctual reaction to wrap her up in his arms. “God why can’t you just do the talking? You’re better at it than I am.”

Killian chuckled at that, and when Emma opened her eyes again, they were filled with humor of their own, because they both knew that would never work. He might sometimes have some insights into how to turn a phrase, but between the two of them it was Emma who often saw the way forward. She was as brilliant as she was beautiful, and she had many opinions, all of which he cherished. Still, he understood her meaning now, and he tried his best to offer some solution.

“I think the best way forward is to make your boundaries clear, love. If you only have so much you want to engage with, then that’s what we tell her, and maybe she’ll be even more pleased to plan the rest of it herself.” Emma considered his suggestion, but still looked skeptical. “Of course we would be clear that there are limits.”

“Uh yeah, that’s a must,” Emma replied and Killian smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple as she leaned back against him.

“But your mother, at the end of the day, is a reasonable woman. She knows you have a lot going on. You have work, your friends, the baby…”

“And you,” Emma whispered, looking back to him with a smile.

“Aye, and me. Always.”

The promise was one he had made countless times and meant with all his heart, but this time it moved Emma to a degree that she shifted in his arms, straddling him where he sat before she pulled him in for a feverish kiss. In seconds they were riled to the same place, thoroughly forgetting the world around them. Killian pulled her closer, relishing the way her body writhed against him as her hands clung to him. Close was never close enough for the two of them, and when they were together like this, all outside noise fell away. All that mattered was that they were together, and that in each other they’d found a spectacular new life and love. It was so transcendent to have these moments wrapped up together like this, but then Killian heard the sound of footsteps coming up the gravel path and he pulled back. Emma still appeared dazed from their kiss, her eyes foggy with feeling, and her lips full from having been thoroughly devoured. But in a few moments she caught up with his reasoning, and instinctively she jumped up, straightening out her summer dress before pulling him to his feet just in time for the willow leaves to rustle.

“There you kids are,” Emma’s grandmother stated as she walked under the canopy. “I was wondering where you’d wandered off to.”

It was still very strange to Killian to even think of this woman that way, given how young she was. She looked closer to Emma’s age than she even did her son’s, but appearances had done nothing to lessen her love for David or for Emma. It was clear that time had little impact on Ruth’s devotion to her family. Over the last few weeks she’d been playing catch up on all the years she missed, but already she blended with this tribe of people. And she was dedicated in her role as caregiver. Killian had noticed how loyal she was and how she was determined to smooth things over whenever she could. She appeared to have a magic touch with these things, and Killian began to hope that maybe she could intervene somehow in all this wedding planning.

“How did you know we’d wandered off?” Emma asked curiously and Ruth smiled and shrugged.

“It was only a matter of time, honey. Anyone who knows you and your mother had to see this coming a mile away. She’s a lovely woman – the best partner I could have picked for my son, and the best mother to my grandbabies – but she’s also on a whole different frequency. She’s got so much energy and so much enthusiasm. Well, it just washes everything else away, doesn’t it?”

“It’s exhausting,” Emma admitted and Ruth took Emma’s hand, patting it affectionately.

“I know it is. You’ve done brilliantly trying to keep up, Emma. But I think this is where we put our foot down. I’ll speak with your mother, and we’ll get this all settled.”

“Oh, Grandma, you don’t have to. It’s okay, I can -,”

“Nonsense. It’s my job to protect you, Emma, and right now you’ve got more than enough on your plate. Besides, we both know this might get a little awkward, and I don’t want you or Killian getting in the crossfire. Your mother will come around, but it might take her some time, and better that she be annoyed with me than with you.”

Emma and Killian tried to argue, insisting that they could handle it, but Ruth would hear none of it. Seemed stubbornness was a bit of a family trait, but as she led them back to the yard where Emma’s mother and father were waiting, Killian couldn’t help but feel relief. It was a weight off his shoulders to know that Emma would have an advocate, and though he would have risen to the challenge without any hesitation, he was grateful that it wasn’t him or his bride to be that had to face Mary Margaret’s impending displeasure.

“Mom, I didn’t realize you were here. I thought you went into town for the day,” David said as he saw Ruth leading Killian and Emma back. He stood from his chair, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and she beamed up at him, her hands patting his shoulder affectionately.

“And I did, for a little while. I thought it best to give everyone their space while you did your planning, but I think it’s time I stepped in now. Don’t you?”

The look of shock on Emma’s father’s face was actually rather funny, so much so that Emma giggled softly beside him. Killian looked to her and the light in her eyes said that her grandmother’s approach was helping. She might still be worried about her mother’s reactions, but she wasn’t as anxious or apprehensive as she might have been otherwise. This was a blessing, since stress wasn’t healthy for Emma or their little one.

“Now, I know there is no one more capable of putting together a wedding to remember than you, Mary Margaret,” Ruth said, with real appreciation, “but I think that the best thing we could do for Emma is to make things very easy. If I’m understanding correctly, there aren’t many things Emma really feels strongly about, right?”

Emma nodded, and let out a sigh of relief at how quickly her grandmother had understood her. Killian felt just as calmed by Ruth’s insightfulness, and he watched in amazement as she continued to press forward, working to convince Emma’s mother of some necessary change.

“So why don’t we do this: let’s get the details that matter to the kids and let’s get a list of absolute no-nos as well. That way we have a general idea of what they want and what they don’t want, and we can build them their magical day as part of our gift to them.”

“Us?” Mary Margaret asked surprised. “Like you and me?”

“Yes, I mean if you’ll have me,” Ruth said, offering her hand to Mary Margaret who took it eagerly. “I know it’s not the same, but I’ll always regret the fact that I couldn’t be part of your and David’s special day. This will give us a chance to make some of those decisions, and it’ll help Emma have some peace of mind while she gets ready for her marriage and her baby. She’ll still be involved, but not so hands on, and together we can make something absolutely beautiful that still falls within reason.”

Emma’s mother looked really happy at the thought, until those last few words popped up. Then she tossed a look at David, before replying to his mother. “I don’t tend to do very well at the ‘within reason’ part.”

“That’s okay, we’ll figure it out together, and we’ll keep Emma and Killian updated as much as they want.”

It was amazing to have witnessed this delivery of an idea. Ruth had only been in their lives for a few weeks, but she had a means of talking to all of them in a way that convinced them to see reason and to be empathetic to others. For the first time, Killian felt like Mary Margaret really understood that this was more of what Emma wanted. It dawned on her that Ruth was right. Emma had lots of other things to be thinking of, and fighting with her mother would only add to an already full plate. At the end of the day, Mary Margaret clearly didn’t want that for her daughter, and she was the kind of mother who would do anything for her children.

“Is this okay with you, Emma? I don’t want you to feel like I’m planning your whole wedding. It’s your day, and I know I can be controlling and opinionated -,”

“Let me stop you there, Mom,” Emma said, coming around the table to sit beside her mother. “I appreciate that you want this to be what I want, but I think grandma Ruth is onto something. Killian and I only really care about a handful of things. I want to pick my own dress, Killian and I want to choose our first song, we want to get married here in Storybrooke, and we want to get married soon.”

“How soon?”

“Before the summer is over,” Emma said, looking to Killian who grinned and nodded.

“All right, and the rest you want to leave to me?” her mother asked and Emma smiled.

“I do. I know our tastes can be different sometimes, but you know me, Mom. I trust you to create not just a beautiful wedding, but one that represents Killian and I. Grandma’s right. There is no one better to plan that then you, and it’ll be a lot less painful of a process if you just follow your own thinking and can go at your own pace.”

Everyone waited with bated breath to see if Mary Margaret would actually respond well to this new idea. There was a chance she might still feel slighted or upset, but when her face lit up with a genuinely happy smile, Killian and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed they’d actually managed to handle this, and they owed so much of that new found peace to Emma’s grandmother. With a few more quick, overarching questions, about colors and basic thematic elements, the five of them were done and Killian and Emma were left wondering what to do with the rest of their day. Before they had a chance to decide, however, an unexpected party made up of their friends and the rest of their family walked through the back gates of the Nolans’ home.

“Surprise!” Ruby said with a mirthful grin as she wielded a large red pot in her arms. Graham was beside her, carrying at least four of his own containers in an attempt to ease Granny’s load, and behind them were Anna, Elsa, and Liam who all held their own unanticipated offerings too. “It’s a beautiful day, and we were thinking it might be perfect for a barbecue.”

“What a great idea!” Emma’s mother agreed. “And your timing is brilliant. We’re just finishing up.”

“Oh I know,” Ruby said, reminding them all that her visionary gifts often came in hand in cases like this. “It was touch and go for a bit there, but thank god for Grandma Ruth, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Emma agreed, as she grabbed some of the supplies Ruby and the others brought with them before she turned, with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “Oh wait, actually you do.”

Killian watched as Emma laughed with her friends, a group which now thoroughly included Ruby. It was like they’d been close for years instead of only a few months, and the four of them were predisposed to sharing only good moments together. Ultimately, they went into the house, all of them clearly well pleased with the way the day was turning out, and that was all Killian could ask for. Before she was fully inside Emma tossed one last smile his way, and he grinned, glad that despite how rocky things had been before, his love was now in a much better place.

“You look happy, brother,” Liam acknowledged as he approached and Killian nodded, knowing that Liam’s comment was by no means inaccurate.

“No happier than the Sherriff here,” Killian said motioning to Graham, who walked beside Liam. “Surprised to see you here, Graham.”

“Why would you be? Tink can handle the town well enough on her own. And Ruby is here, so I am too.”

“Sorry, I should have been clearer. I meant I was surprised to see both of you. Ruby hasn’t been uh… let’s call it sociable of late.”

“Aye,” Liam agreed, immediately joining in on Killian’s ribbing of their cousin’s new mate. “It was made clear as day after Ruby helped Elsa cast her spell that you’d both be taking a long, long time away.”

“And we will be,” Graham said confidently, his eyes sparkling in a way that so equally matched Ruby’s it was no surprise they were mates. “But things need to settle first.”

“Settle?” Killian asked. “How much more settled can they get?”

“Beats me,” Graham replied with a sigh. “But my girl knows what she knows. She says soon, but not yet, and I have to trust she knows best.”

Killian respected that response and figured that he and Liam had given Graham enough grief. He was family now, after all, and there was nothing more worth protecting and preserving than family. “As to your original question, brother, you’re right. I am happy. I’m happier than I ever believed possible, and I have a feeling you share my sentiments.”

Liam nodded, his own smile still more reserved after years of the emotional drain that had been caused by his sickness. Since Elsa completed the magical bond between them a a couple of weeks ago, Liam had been rapidly on the mend, but Ruby assured them all that it would take time for Liam to be truly acclimated to something like normalcy again. Not that being magically bounded to a witch who was also your mate was normal, per se, but Killian still understood the meaning.

“I only wish Elsa would rebound faster. What she’s been through to save me…” Liam trailed off, the burden of Elsa’s sacrifice clearly weighing heavily on him.

“Has the bonding not taken like it should?”

“No, it was seamless. Elsa saw to that,” Liam said with pride, and Killian bit back another smile as he waited for Liam to elaborate. “It’s just her sleep.”

“Ah,” Graham said, like it was suddenly so clear. “Well that’s easy, humans need more sleep than shifters. That means as much as you might want to keep her up -,”

“I’m not keeping her up,” Liam growled defensively, though Killian was past the point of being afraid of his elder brother’s actions. Despite being frustrated with the implication that he was the cause of his mate’s suffering, Liam was fine and not truly angry with Graham. “It’s her nightmares. They’ve been bad for the past week. She’s been restless, and even on the nights when I think she’s found sound reprieve, she wakes just as tired as when she went to bed.”

“Nightmares? Like the ones she was having before?” Killian asked and Liam nodded. “But I thought those were about you trying to find me or being her mate.”

“They were. These are different, but Elsa says the same darkness sticks with her when she wakes. Just now instead of waking up from blackness, she says she’s been seeing red.”

“Red?” Killian echoed, a sense of uneasiness creeping in at his brother’s confirmation.

“Brighter than blood, was how she put it.”

“Kind of a weird way of phrasing that,” Graham muttered, but Liam disregarded him.

“She says the color is unnatural, and that this particular hue seeps all through the dreams. Monsters with red eyes and a lust for blood. Some of them are trapped, and some roam the forest, searching for something, but all of them terrify her,” Liam said, and Killian felt a chill snap down his spine, a very real trickle of fear coloring his recently more stable world.

“Well damn, no wonder she’s tired. That shit sounds awful.”

“It does,” Killian agreed, almost without meaning to, his mind wandering back to his own remembrances of eyes that repulsive and frightening.

“Meanwhile I can do nothing to stop this. I’d protect her from anything the world over, but how could I possibly ward this off? I have no control of dreams, and it’s starting to drive me mad, which is probably only making her worse.”

“Does she think they’re visions?” Killian asked.

“How could they be? Red eyes? What shifter species has those? None I know of, and none we read word of in her family’s archives. No, I think this is a symptom. My lingering darkness is somehow spreading to her, but when we talked to Ruby she said that the future she can see still looked the same, and in that future we’re both healthy and well.”

“But clearly Ruby’s sight isn’t as infallible as we once thought,” Killian responded, and now Liam and Graham looked at him quizzically.

“Maybe not, but if she says we’re fine and she knows that for sure then certainly that means something.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Killian asked, his voice edgier than he intended. Liam’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Come to you with the nightmares of my mate? I didn’t think it necessary. You and Emma have enough going on. Between showing her how to shift, preparing for your wedding, and the pup on the way, I figured you didn’t need the hassle. Besides, I know my Elsa. She would never wish to add more burden to Emma’s life, not after everything they’ve gone through.”

“They were scarlet,” Killian whispered, and Liam now looked thoroughly confused. “I’ve seen scarlet colored eyes on a shifter before.”

“You have?” Liam asked, immediately on alert. “Where, brother?”

“Boston. Emma saw them too.”

Killian recalled what he could of that night, though it felt like he had gone through the story a thousand times in many ways. It dawned on him as he was telling it though that Liam had never heard the full account, as least not from Killian or Emma, the two who had actually experienced that unusual night. Elsa must have heard it all, but now he wondered if Emma had included those little details. If she had it clearly hadn’t stuck with Elsa, but then again the idea of these eyes wasn’t horrible and gruesome until one saw them in the face of a snarling, ruthless animal.

Just as he’d finished explaining the still mysterious nature of the attack years ago, the back door burst open, and Killian turned to find Emma leading the women out of the house. Gone was her easy demeanor from before, and now it was replaced with worry, a worry that he immediately wanted to fix, but wasn’t sure how.

It’s not just dreams, Emma’s mind pushed towards him through their mated link, her face portraying the pain of accepting that terrifying though. Then she decided to speak aloud so everyone could hear. “They’re visions. Definitely visions.”

“Aye, so it would seem.”

“So much for normal, huh?” Emma asked in a whisper as she came to hold him, trying to find comfort in his arms when a new wave of fear had descended. Though he wished he could tell her that it would all be okay, and that there was no more pain or uncertainty ahead, Killian knew that likely wasn’t true. Whatever these visions meant, and wherever things were going, it seemed they had more darkness standing in their way. But he’d be damned if he didn’t fight it all off and overcome it for their future. They’d handle this, just as they’d weathered every storm up to now, and no matter what it took, Killian swore to himself and to Emma that he’d keep her and their family safe at all costs…

………….

Don’t shift. Don’t shift. Whatever you do, don’t shift.

The familiar voice in his head that belonged to his bear had been growing weaker day by day, increasingly drowned out by the menacing, discombobulated thoughts of something darker. Something ruthless. But tonight there was a desperation and a last display of strength behind his animal’s spirit that Kristoff hadn’t heard before. It was like a final cry of hope, but it felt useless to be hopeful here. Trapped as he was in this cage underground, ripped away from his home and the life he knew before, Kristoff had been losing more and more of himself during this stint in captivity. Whatever the man in the mask was pumping into his veins was slowly driving him crazy, but he had to fight. Even if it was inevitable, he’d fight with every fiber of his being before he’d ever sink willingly into this dark abyss.

“Ah, still trying to deny what must now come,” a voice said, sounding through the bars in an even, unelevated way.

He recognized it as the voice of the man who was in charge of this place. He was the one responsible for all this terror, and the tone of his words reflected that. He was cold, calculating, and yet self-satisfied in a way that made Kristoff’s skin crawl. A twinge in his voice spoke to malicious intent, and if evil was ever to incarnate into human form, this guy was definitely in the running for what it would look like.

“It’s all for nothing, of course. You will, ultimately, give in as all the others have. But I can’t help but wonder at your power when you do. You’re a grizzly, after all, one of nature’s largest abominations, and your resistance to this point… well I have to believe it’ll make your eventual surrender so much more complete. Yes, you’ll work fine. A weapon befitting the task at hand.”

“What’s so damn important?” Kristoff asked. “You keep talking about a weapon, and I can smell there’ve been others here, others you’ve tortured like me. What the hell is your endgame?

The man laughed, and the sound was toxic and scratchy, almost causing Kristoff to wince. Then he walked to the edge of the cage, his body mere inches from the bars as he sneered out a response. “If I had my way you’d all be dead. There’s no worth to shifter life. You are all nothing. Worse than nothing. You’re a plague, a plague brought upon the world to be remedied, and at last I’ve found my way to do just that. What I’ve given you is so much more than you can fathom, it would leave your feeble mind gasping for air to even conceive of it.”

“Try me,” Kristoff said, staring down his captor while doing his best to use his other senses to figure out a way out of here. He just had to get to the gate fast enough to kill this man. He must have a key somewhere, and once this ass hole was dead then maybe Kristoff could be free.

“We don’t have time. You’re ready for your final dose, your last descent, so to speak. You won’t withstand another injection. The sickness will take you then, and this will keep you in line.”

The man pulled a giant, bear sized collar out from behind his back, and even from this distance Kristoff could smell the dark magic attached to the thing. It smelled of death and decay, and it explained why Kristoff had sensed magic nearby. It was strange though - so far things here had seemed almost clinical, but maybe this monster of a man was more than human. A warlock perhaps, or -

“Either way, you should be grateful,” his captor snapped, drawing his full attention back to the fateful moment at hand. “For now you will help cleanse the world of its surest darkness. There’s just one thing left to handle.”

“And that is…?”

The question hung between them in the air, and his captor only smiled the line of his lips forming a menacing, malicious sneer. Then he pressed something on the other side of the wall that Kristoff couldn’t see, and the familiar sound of the floor giving out from under him prompted his body to spring into action. He sought to avoid the trap this time, but there was nowhere to go. He was caught, and before he could even begin to formulate a way out of this, he felt the sharp prick of the needle. He’d failed to stop this mad man, and now it was too late. His pulse was rushing, his mind became frenzied and unglued, and as reality faded into oblivion, all he was left with was a blinding, seeping, sickening sense of red.

Post-Note: So there we have it. Obviously, this is opening another can of worms, but I know a few of you mentioned in the beginning of the story that you were curious what the red eyes meant on the shifter that attacked Emma and Killian. I didn’t just forget about that, and it definitely wasn’t a throw away detail, even if it happened a long time ago. It’s been part of my larger story vision since the beginning. You’ve probably started to piece together some of the parts of the puzzle, but rest assured, next chapter will give a lot more clues as to what exactly is going on and what it all means for CS and the others. Anyway, as always, I am so appreciative of you all reading. It means the world to me to have you all continuing on this story journey with me, and I really hope you’ve enjoyed the chapter!

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arissayoo · 5 years

Text

Neverland -> [Ateez AU]

Chapter 2

Genre: Thriller, Horror, Fantasy, Lostboys!Ateez

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence and dark/horror themes, fem!reader, cursing

Summary: As you work to gain the trust of the lost boys, you hear of the various magic powers that are found within the island, fueling your desire to return home. The horrors lurking within Neverland continue when you receive a cryptic note containing information on the lost boys’ dark secret, leaving you questioning if you sided up with your worst nightmare.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Seonghwa led me through the dark narrow cave, the smell of sulfur invading my nose.

“God, how do you guys live with this smell?” I covered my nose. This was also kind of a small place to be housing eight boys.

“Oh, yeah I forgot to mention that, sorry. It covers up our scent. Our base is not that far up.” He continued walking, stepping to the side to avoid the large body of water. We turned a corner, the darkness disappearing as sunlight poured in from the ceiling.

“Woah.” I gasped, my mouth hanging open in awe.

“This is it, welcome to The Den,” Seonghwa announced, chuckling at my reaction.

The narrow walls of the cave opened into a large dome shape, the expanse of space occupied by a large house that had been built into the cave. My mouth was still gaping like a fish when I realized Seonghwa was already at the front door. I ran to catch up with him, admiring the detailing of the structure.

“I would offer to give you a tour but I’m worried about your injuries.” Seonghwa looked at me worriedly. The blood from my cuts had mixed with dirt and dried on my legs.

“Oh right.” My voice showed my disappointment. This place was so beautifully crafted, the cave walls serving as the basic structure of the house. “How did you guys find a place like this?”

“We didn’t. Yunho built it with some help from us of course.”

“WHAT? You mean to say you built this whole house out of a cave by yourselves?” I exclaimed, my voice echoing throughout the living room. Seonghwa stayed silent leading me into a room on the first floor.

“This is my room, it doubles as an infirmary.” He opened the door, gesturing for me to sit in the corner. “I need you to place your legs on this, and I'm just going to feel for any, uh .......swelling.”

I just watched as he placed his hand on my shin, not touching any of my cuts but barely grazing the messy blood-dirt that dripped down my leg. I couldn’t feel the pain earlier due to the adrenaline rush, but now I could feel a stinging sensation from the cuts on my legs. Seonghwa closed his eyes, breathing in slowly before opening them again, his irises glowing a bright green.

“What the?!” I shrieked, trying to squirm away. Seonghwa’s hand clamped around my leg holding it in place.

“Stay still.” It was more of a growl than the normal voice I was used to. I whimpered in fear, his hold too strong for me to even consider moving. With one blink, his eyes went back to normal and he let go, turning to gather supplies. “Thankfully you managed to not cut yourself on any Manchineel trees. There's just a little venom from the Khanin’s claws, that’s why you feel stinging.”

“Excuse me, care to explain what the fuck just happened?” I backed into the corner, suddenly much more defensive from earlier.

“I’ll explain but not until I finish cleaning up your leg. You need to hear this anyway.” He brought over disinfecting supplies and started cleaning my leg, with me flinching with every one of his movements.

Even though I was on edge and scared about what happened, I felt waves of calm wash over me. Seonghwa was wiping my leg with soft strokes to get all the dirt and blood off without hurting me. A large gash running from my knee to the middle of my shin was outlined in a dark red, small scrapes scattered around it.

“This will help with any lingering venom in the cuts,” he spread a green mixture over my legs before wrapping them in white gauze. He gave me some in a jar for the cuts on my chest and packed the rest of the supplies up, locking them away.

“So, now can you explain the whole demon eye thing?”

“It has nothing to do with demons. The island we are on now, Neverland, is....magical to put it lightly. Everyone here as far I can tell acquires unique powers shortly after arriving. That’s how we were able to build this house. My power is herbalist, I can essentially see and understand illnesses or injuries and know what herbs and plants will help. That's why my eyes were glowing.”

“So all of you can do that?” I questioned, not really understanding what he said.

“Like I said, everyone has their own powers that are different from each other. My eyes are the only ones that can glow.”

“You really expect me to believe that? And that I somehow woke up in a children’s fairy tale?”

“It’s not a fairy tale Y/N. How else would you explain any of this? You think we all abandoned our lives for some fairy tale.” He raised his voice. I was too stunned to speak. “You will eventually discover your powers, just as the rest of us did. Neverland has a weird way of incorporating your normal life outside of here into the powers you get.”

“How-” I cut myself short, not able to wrap my head around this information.

“In the future, try to avoid the Khanins. They are shapeshifters that hunt the humans on this island. They will tear you to shreds if they get the chance. Also, you need to learn our rules if you are going to stay with us-”

Seonghwa paused when I abruptly stood up. “I-I’m sorry. This is just too much to comprehend right now. I need some air.” I ran out the door, trying to follow the route that Seonghwa had took when he brought me here.

Until I was on the beach. The beach that looked completely normal, so similar to the one close by my house. I realized it would be a while before I got to see that beach or go home for the matter. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the rush of emotions. Ever since I got here all I’ve been is confused and lost. I thought getting information would be helpful but it only ended up disorienting me more than I already was. Just the idea of being on Neverland, surrounded by magical creatures and man-eating monsters was enough to make a normal person go mad. It was enough to make the line between reality and fantasy in my mind a blurry mess, teetering on the unknown fear of why I was the one in this nightmare.

A rustle in the bushes snapped me out of the thoughts in my head, the hairs on the back of my neck doing handstands. Don’t walk towards it Y/N. Don’t go investigate. I took a step back, fearing the worst.

Another rustle.

A high-pitched wail sounded, the birds in the surrounding trees flying out to escape whatever danger that was behind them. I covered my face, turning around to run the opposite direction and bumping into something.

“Watch it, Wendy, wouldn't want to get in our way,” A distorted voice rang into my ears. I looked up, the sun blocking their features. I lifted my hand to block the sunlight, seeing San’s face take an animalistic look, eyes wild as he pushed me aside. He twirled his blade in his fingers, devilishly licking his lips.

Another rustle sounded before a large Khanin ran towards us at full speed. My heart stopped as I struggled to run away, tripping and landing on my back. The Khanin’s gaze focused on me, running up to attack. Before I could scream, San appeared in front of me, slashing its throat and covering me in blood.

“Did you see that Yeosang?” San laughed, licking the blood off of his blade. The other boy pushed out from the trees, high-fiving the crazy blonde. I watched, still on the sand with my eyes wide. It wasn’t until I got up and reached up to my face, smearing the blood there that Yeosang noticed my presence.

“You got a little blood on your face Y/N.” His hands gestured to his face.

“I almost got killed!” I screamed, facing a shocked Yeosang and a smug San. The sky became dark and I could hear thunder rolling close. My luck was officially gone.

“I told you to move. No one said to get in our way.” San walked over to the beast, pulling out an arrow from its back. I huffed, beyond pissed at him.

“I didn’t know you were going to be out here,” Yeosang came up, offering me a rag. I took it, turning and walking away from them. I couldn't stay here with them much longer. Between San and the information Seonghwa told me I was so emotionally tired. I missed my life back home and unless I figured out a plan to get back I would be stuck here. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. I wiped my face, the wind picking up and causing me to cry harder.

“It's always fucking raining on this island,” I sobbed, falling to my knees. The rag, loosely held in my hands flew away, falling against a gathering of rocks. Great. I wiped my eyes, standing up and walking over to them. I bent down to reach for the rag, my eyes catching on a piece of paper jammed between two of the rocks, fluttering in the wind. My eyebrows scrunched together, grabbing the paper carefully so it would not rip.

Playing with the enemy is not why you are here Wendy.

I turned the note over, looking for some sort of clue of its sender. There was nothing other than the small writing on the front, making me question whether this was a prank. Maybe it was and this was just a meaningless piece of paper. I went to toss it, before catching the black ink scrawled on the back. “Huh? I swear this was blank.”

They are hiding something from you.

I wiped the font, smearing the fresh ink against my fingertip. I gasped, dropping the paper as I stared at my fingers. My head whipped around checking for signs of anyone, scanning the bushes in the distance. I scrambled to my feet, running back to the only place I knew.

The stench of sulfur stung my nose as I pounded on the front door. The sun was beginning to set, eliminating most of the light within the cave. My heart was pounding in my ears and I prayed that the door would open.

“Y/N!” Hongjoong opened the door, hurrying me inside. “What’s wrong, did something happen?”

I looked around, trying to even my erratic breathing. “I-“

They are hiding something from you.

“I thought someone was following me.” I let out a nervous breath, “but it turns out it was just a bird.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t believe me. I wouldn’t either honestly, but I needed a moment alone to process everything.

“Yeah, I think I’m just paranoid after today.”

“It’s been a long day. Here I'll show you to the guest room.” He led the way up the stairs to the room at the end of the second floor. “Just let me know if you need anything, my room is right next door.”

I nodded, quickly entering the room and locking the door behind me. I needed to figure out what was happening and fast. Everything that has happened today and how the guys have treated me was all that I could think about. I didn’t know that much about them, making it harder to not be suspicious.

Playing with the enemy. Were they the enemy? I didn't find it hard to believe after how I saw them act today, especially San.

But they were the enemy of who? And how was I supposed to trust this person when I couldn’t even trust the people I was currently living with?

I needed time alone from everyone and everything that would hinder me from forming a plan to escape this island. I was not certain I was safe here, for now choosing to leave this house. It would inconvenience me greatly but I couldn’t risk staying here with a group that was harboring a dark secret and unwilling to share the truth.

I waited for in my room for hours, until the house became silent. I opened my door, checking the hall before trying to walk down the stairs quietly. The lights were off, save for a dimly-lit lamp by the door, cloaking me as I tiptoed through the house. Hopefully, the boys wouldn’t care and I could leave quickly without having to outrun them. As I made my way to the front door, I noticed there was just a simple lock, making my escape that much easier.

I slowly turned the bolt, reaching for the handle when two knives landed an inch from both my hand and head. I screamed, turning around to face all eight boys staring at me coldly.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fantasy #ateez au #lostboys!ateez #choi san #choi jongho #song mingi #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #neverland #neverland au #kpop fanfiction #kpop writing #ateez neverland

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nikatyler · 5 years

Photo

*gasp* a replies post! A long replies post! A long replies post where I overshare again! *o* Yeah I kinda missed doing these. I’m now at home, but won’t be for much longer. First, I’m going to meet some of my new classmates on Friday and I’ll spend the whole weekend with them! We’re going somewhere...well I don’t even know where that is, just that it’s in nature and I’ve never been there before! Thank gods we’re meeting at the main station in Prague, or else I wouldn’t get there myself. Then on Moday, I have to go to my uni, and then once more on Wednesday I think? And on Wednesday, I’ll have to wake up at 4 am. my LiFe Is SoOoOOOoO HaRd oH mY gOd. No, I’ll be fine.

And a month from now, I’ll be moving to my dorm. That’s some crazy stuff. I can’t believe it’s happening. Last week, my dad actually took me to Prague and we went to see where it is. The location reminds me a lot of my home, but I won’t tell you what exactly that is because no one needs to know that. Anyway, school starts in October. I’m actually looking forward to studying, but the “living alone in a big city with people I’ve never seen before” part is scary. D: I’ll give you updates.

Anyway, today was a weird day. First, I sat alone by the lake when these two guys came and talked to me (I didn’t mind that actually, they were kinda nice), then when I got up and said I had to go home, one of them complimented my legs...which would’ve been really nice but then he basically implied he’d go to bed with me...and like literally five minutes ago he said he had a girlfriend...basically men are scary. Then later, mum and I went grocery shopping and I saw my middle school crush with his girlfriend...and decided that his girlfriend is cute, way cuter than him actually...bisexual culture I guess, crushing on your middle school crush’s girlfriend lmao. Then we went to pay for our groceries and the cashier...was my childhood friend who also happened to be my first crush and also my last crush and these days I’m wondering if I’m really crushing on him or if I’m just holding onto him because I don’t know any better. Long story but if you ever feel like I have a thing for childhood friends to lovers trope, maybe blame him.

Wow. Oversharing much? Let’s get to those replies then, before I tell you what colour my underwear is or something.

Also!! Stream Lover. You won’t regret it.

volcanopasta replied to your photoset “@ ea guess what we still don’t have in ts4”

I miss spooning

I feel like that’s one of those little things half of the community misses. ;-;

simlishprincess replied to your photoset “MAGNOLIA???”

she’s morphing

She’s broken like this really often and it scares me :D

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Vanessa: “So do you forgive me?” Gwyneth: “Of course I do. I must...”

Lol, a bpr founder telling thez plan no more children, they are so funny

These sims have no clue what I have in store

And just you wait for gen 2

Just you wait

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “There it is. Wonder what she could use the computer for…;) (no, I...”

Well I can`t say this is surprisingXD

Yeah...do most people go for purple? At least most bpr people I follow/followed went for this colour :D I also wanted to do this thing where the founder chooses the pink person, but the heir is purple. Idk why, I just wanted it to be like that haha

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Uhh oh hi again. You guys are seeing this right after the last post,...”

Jeez, Vanessa looks like that liquid Terminaor from Terninator 2.Funnily enough he was posing as a police officerXD

Lol I have no idea what you’re talking about because I’m bad at watching iconic movies (read as: I haven’t watched any of the movies that people think everyone has watched :’D) but I’ll believe you lmao

dandylion240 replied to your photoset “I really can’t justify this, can I? Listen, I have to stay true to my...”

Sometimes the aliens won't let you go even if you want to.

Oh you’re right

create-a-sim replied to your photoset “She traded her policeman hat for a fishnet top. Fashion, you know.”

me as a policeman

Saaaame

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “You know how I said I couldn’t justify this? Well…Alexa play Oops I...”

Yeah, make Roxanne that purple sibling/s

Careful what you wish for 👀

dandylion240 replied to your post “The power of what sharing a worry with someone can do amazes me, as a...”

Awe I'm glad you didn't delete without telling anyone. You would have been missed. But you're not the only one who thinks about doing that though.

I love seeing you on my dash ❤️

1o8percent replied to your post “The power of what sharing a worry with someone can do amazes me, as a...”

I’m glad that sharing your worries was able to help you. Simblr can be overwhelming and well life in general can be too. It’s nice to have someone to let it out to. I’m glad you’re still around!

♥♥♥

Thank you guys so much. This happens to me from time to time, but it’s never been this bad.

desira-sims replied to your post “Random thoughts and ideas: NSB, BC and my hair (again)”

I’m slowly working through the sentence starters too. I didn’t realize quite how difficult some of them would be. Lol

Same! I might incorporate one of them into my yellow gen because it would fit there perfectly. God I’m really going to milk this one awful awful event for angst huh. That will be frowned upon. As for the other...I have an idea for it but it doesn’t fit the og Raleb timeline at all (it was for them) and I want it to be canon...like I kinda just don’t want to call it an AU, but I guess I’ll have to.

aiseinei replied to your photoset “Eden: “Ughhh oh my god my life is soooo hard!”

I would be too if I was stuck staring pink in the mirror for the rest of my life �� no very cute!

Oof same haha. One of the reasons why I was hesitant about starting BPR was the pink :D

And then I went and made my founder marry a pink sim and have four pink children with her, because that makes sense. I love making myself suffer, yay!

Thank you, btw!

medleymisty replied to your post “I'm not saying I want to re-read my entire NSB but...I kinda do. Will...”

*hugs* We're our own worst critics. I used to cringe at my old stuff too, but really it was decent. I might have learned more since then, but it was still good. I'm glad you can see the good in yours. :)

I’m definitely not as hard at my younger self anymore. I went and read some of my stories written when I was 13-14, and I tried to look at it that way. They weren’t perfect, but maybe they were good for a child of that age. I mean, I always got good grades on my writing homework, and my teachers have always liked how I worked with words, so...yeah, it’s not perfect, but I’m not going to have perfectly fleshed out characters and storylines when I have barely even understood that the world isn’t just black and white, good and evil. There are shades inbetween.

That got deep again but I have a lot of feelings about this and I’m sorry to my younger writer self for how I’ve treated her. Keep going, kid.

xiapxls replied to your post “Well, of course my bad wifi had to ruin everything. I guess I will go...”

Me! Whenever I come across a new blog I'm interested in I always read everything before I hit follow

whysimstho replied to your post “Well, of course my bad wifi had to ruin everything. I guess I will go...”

It was how I found your blog actually!

yamekamerainbows27 replied to your post “Well, of course my bad wifi had to ruin everything. I guess I will go...”

I have! ✋✋

elisabettasims replied to your post “Well, of course my bad wifi had to ruin everything. I guess I will go...”

I feel like I read over 90% of it?

dandylion240 replied to your post “Well, of course my bad wifi had to ruin everything. I guess I will go...”

Me. Was in love with Ross since he was born in game. He was such a lil cutie!!

desira-sims replied to your post “Well, of course my bad wifi had to ruin everything. I guess I will go...”

Me! Came across a Ross and Caleb post and went back to the beginning to read it all.

1o8percent replied to your post “Well, of course my bad wifi had to ruin everything. I guess I will go...”

I have ��

Wooow there’s a lot of you. And you stuck with me through the bad and the worse, through all the dumb ideas I got...thank you. Seriously, thank you. There’s more in store, I promise.

You’ll want to punch me in the face eventually, I’m just saying.

Speaking of punching someone in the face, yesterday I was waiting for my hair to dry and I thought hmm, let’s go read gen 2 of my NSB. And...I knew Ross was an idiot when he was young, but I forgot he was that bad. I’m glad none of us accepted it and we only collectively forgave him when he got his crap together. Yay. Also yay we didn’t cancel him because cancel culture is disgusting, people can learn from their mistakes.

I’m going off topic again. That happens when I’m in a good mood.

elisabettasims replied to your post “Let's play a game, "how many more curly maxis match hair can I...”

It's true, there is never enough.

dandylion240 replied to your post “Let's play a game, "how many more curly maxis match hair can I...”

There is never enough

Glad we’re on the same page haha

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “��”

Yes, tumblr finally stopped bullying me and send my ask!

Yay tumblr, it got its crap together for once!

No, jokes aside, if you ever send me an ask and I don’t respond, feel free to send it again. I think I got better at answering my asks fast, so you can definitely tell by that. Also, if I answer everyone else’s and not yours...that’s also a sign because I hardly ever keep asks private (unless I’ve been asked to do so, then I’ll always respect your wish!)

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photo “I have to catch a bus in like ten minutes but here’s what I’ve been...”

This hairstyle suits Ross!

It kinda really does?? It was also the closest I could get to his ts4 one haha.

toxoplasmajuice replied to your photoset “Contestant number seven has arrived! Talia: “Is everything alright?...”

god yeah as an experienced bc player i feel that, introductions take SO long and get SO annoying

I had an “ok I’m never doing this again” moment with literally every contestant because 1) it was taking forever and 2) making ten different and yet still entertaining dialogues was hard

And I write a lot so you’d say that would be easy for me, but nope :’D

doka-chan replied to your post “I don't know how many of you are interested in my book...”

Book recommendations are always a plus. Thank you ! :)

I like them too! Not only because, well, I get a book recommendation, but also because I’m always curious about what people read haha.

vintageplumbobs replied to your post “Just queued episode 2 of the BC and one of the posts got flagged…wanna...”

Not all of us have time for breakfast! I can’t be looking at that in the staff kitchen! People will riot! ��

Oh that’s right, forgive me tumblr, I have sinned

desira-sims replied to your post “But I’ve never told you that before.” Caleb and Ross, please? ��”

That is the sweetest thing ever. ��

dandylion240 replied to your post “But I’ve never told you that before.” Caleb and Ross, please? ��”

I love it ❤️

Thank you guys ;-; ♥ I loved writing this so much. It gave me that nice warm feeling inside, you know what I mean? They make me so happy! ;-;

wcif a vampire best friend that would eventually end up marrying me?

dandylion240 replied to your post “Just queued episode 2 of the BC and one of the posts got flagged…wanna...”

Every single post of Emerson bc was flagged and they weren’t nsfw either mostly

Yeah, this is so weird...I know people say it happens when the picture has a lot of “skintone” coloured pixels...but that’s not always the case with my flagged posts??

Also (I’ll never shut up about this)...why is there a female-presenting nipples rule when it clearly can’t ever tell female and male nipples apart? I’m just saying. And yes I get it, for AI it sure has to be difficult to tell such things apart but in my opinion that’s exactly why they should get rid of it and only incorporate it when it can tell it apart. Actually, hold on, nope. The nipple rule is stupid no matter what gender the nipple is.

And I’ve just used the word nipple more times than ever before in my nineteen-something years long life.

desira-sims replied to your photoset “Some more pictures of Aretha ♥”

She's so pretty

Thank you! ♥ I’m happy with how she turned out.

vintageplumbobs replied to your photoset “I did not forget about those townie makeovers! @epicvictoria suggested...”

That style really suits her. But then...maybe I’m biased...

I think it suits her way better than her original outfits too, but same, I might be biased...vintage/retro aesthetic is my jam.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “How to tell which characters are my favourite? Well, they probably...”

Looking good!

omiscanking replied to your photoset “How to tell which characters are my favourite? Well, they probably...”

I'm scrEAMINGGGG

Haha thank you! I hope it’s a good kind of screaming :D

toxoplasmajuice replied to your post “Thoughts?”

screenshots are cool and all but i say if you wanna rely more on text then go for it! especially if you've figured out that taking all those screenshots is an obstacle for you - do what works best for you, you know?

doka-chan replied to your post “Thoughts?”

For me a story is up to its writer. I don't mind only one picture with a huge text, or the contrary a lot of picture with little to no text. As long as we got attached to the characters, it's not important, as long as it's progressing and understandable.

dandylion240 replied to your post “Thoughts?”

I don’t mind reading a lot of text. Pics are always second to the story to me.

desira-sims replied to your post “Thoughts?”

I sort of think there should be a balance. No, not everything needs to be shown as a ss, but it should be more than one photo for a wall of text.

Thank you for your feedback! I think it would be no more than one Word page of text. Which is a lot still but I think that’s the maximum I’d go for. And I mean, I’d show all the important moments. It’s just, I guess I don’t need ten different pictures of the same conversation when these people are just standing next to each other. And it doesn’t need to be split into ten different posts either.

I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.

deathflowertea replied to your photoset “the softest bean �� alternate, boring caption: So I finally decided to...”

TS4 looks good on her! ��

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “the softest bean �� alternate, boring caption: So I finally decided to...”

Cute!

alfalfalegacy replied to your photoset “the softest bean �� alternate, boring caption: So I finally decided to...”

I love her!!

Thank you guys! I really like how she turned out too.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “I'm thinking of starting something like "random facts about..." tags...”

I do love when people talk about their characters and stories! It makes OCs more real and all the small details are just adorable!

Me too. I want to know all the details. Tell me how you came up with this or that. Tell me what inspired you to do this. Tell me which song you associate with them. Tell me little things like what shower gel they’re using. I JUST LOVE OCS OKAY

toxoplasmajuice replied to your photo “Nicky: “This is a tragedy. Can I burn my picture before anyone sees...”

me whenever i finish a drawing

big relatable mood

create-a-sim replied to your post “list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for...”

I love good lyrics as well ;)

I’ve recently found a lot of appreciation for lyrics that seem simple, but then you get into them or read some behind the scenes facts and realize they’re not as simple as they might seem. Then I feel like the person who wrote it is a genius.

ineptbubbles replied to your photoset “Could I ever get bored of her? Nope. Could I ever get bored of making...”

Omgosh I love that shirt!!

Me toooo and I need one irl ;-; But I mean, I’ve told my sister so many times this week, maybe when my birthday comes around in December, she’ll remember and she’ll tell my parents I want it? :D I mean I could just ask them for that myself but I just know I’d be embarrassed for some reason.

mlpsimmer replied to your photoset “Roxanne: “Dad, what are you doing here?! You told me you were supposed...”

Your sims are gorgeous!

Thank you so muuuuch! ♥

desira-sims replied to your post “Fluff sentence starter 16. “Do you think the moon is jealous of how...”

These two. �� My heart. I just love them.

dandylion240 replied to your post “Fluff sentence starter 16. “Do you think the moon is jealous of how...”

I love this thank you ❤️

Same. They borrowed my heart, said they’d give it back and then ran away with it and I never saw it again. smh guys, stealing isn’t nice

And no, thank YOU for making me write this ♥

mlpsimmer replied to your post “Tumblr……..your protect-kids-from-seeing-nipples algorithm still isn’t...”

It happened to one of my drafts, which was never published. They were fully dressed, too! It's a little annoying.

Yeah, I just talked about this above in a reply to an older comment. It’s...ugh tumblr, what is u doing

13 notes · View notes

hymn2000 · 5 years

Text

Chiquitita - MCU AU fanfic - C1

Story summary: Something strange is happening. Someone from space has made their way to Earth, armed with a strange weapon. Targeting teenagers, their ray gun, when fired, turns the victim into a toddler. The Avengers set out to stop this, and find a way to reverse the effects. However, they don’t all come out of the battle unscathed.

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: de-aging, family stuff, corporal punishment (early chapters only), mental health stuff, hurt/comfort

Chapter 1 - Here We Go Again

Loki walked into the living room, reading over a letter. Tony was glued to the telly, Peter on his lap.

“Loki, what do you know about this?”

“Hm?” Loki looked up. “Sorry?”

“This thing. Do you know where it’s come from?”

Loki peered at the telly. He recognised the segment: he’d seen it several times already that day. He and his colleagues at the hospital had gathered round the television in the waiting room early that morning, no one knowing quite what to say. This strange being was turning teenagers into toddlers. The motives, if any, were unclear. It didn’t seem to be an effective strategy for... well, anything. Aside from distressing the family and mussing things up a bit, it didn’t really have much of an effect. It certainly wasn’t a global scale scare-story, anyway.

“This is the first time I’ve come across them too” Loki said, folding his letter and folding his arms over his chest.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Peter said, biting his thumb. “What’s the point?”

“I have no idea” Loki said. “There’s a lot of weird things about up there”

“You really don’t know anything about it?”

“No, Tony, I don’t. I don’t know everything in the universe” Loki sighed. “What’s that look for?”

“I... Well, I’ve been talking with Steve and Bruce. We think we need to do something about it”

“What, found a cure, have you?” Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Well, no. But we could stop it from happening to another kid. I told your brother about it, too. He said he might be able to find someone who could reverse it, if he had the original weapon”

“It’s a bit strong classing it as a weapon, don’t you think?”

“Loki, people are being de-aged. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not physical harmful, but it’s still an attack, right?” he squeezed Peter tight, kissing him on the cheek. “How would you feel if our baby was hit with this weird ray gun?”

“I’m sure we’d manage” Loki said, yawning.

“Boring you, am I?” Tony said, scowling.

“Sorry, darling. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. We’ve had every conversation possible about this at work today” he said. “The kids aren’t hurt. After they’ve been hit, they don’t remember being big. They remember people, places, their likes and dislikes, that kind of thing”

“That’s a little bit beside my point” Tony said. “We need to stop this creature. What is it they’re calling him again?”

“Kindsprengen” Peter said. “It’s taken from German. Macy was saying. It’s the words for child and blast”

“That’s a rubbish name” Loki said. “Humans are idiots”

Tony rolled his eyes. “What would you call him, then?”

“How do you know it’s a he? Why do we need to name it?”

“For the tabloids” Peter said.

“Tony, you need to take a step back. Even if you can get the guy down, get the weapon, there’s no guarantee Thor can find a reversal”

“Oh what, so we’re just supposed to sit around and let it keep happening?”

“That’s not what I said”

“It’s what you meant” Tony shook his head at him. “The Avengers are supposed to look after the Earth. If it means taking down this guy - this Kindsprengen - then we’ll do it”

Peter looked back at the TV, even though the segment had long since finished.

“It’s kinda scary, don’t you think?”

Tony looked at him, and kissed him hard on the cheek. “You’re safe here, kiddo”

“I can help though, can’t I? With the battle?”

Tony laughed slightly. “Sure thing, kiddo. We’ll find a way to incorporate Spiderman. Daddy will help too”

“Uh, sorry, what?”

“I said, you’ll help”

“Uh, no, pacifist, remember?”

“Oh don’t pull that card” Tony sighed irritably. “You’re good at this kind of thing. You can step up just this once”

“I’ll think about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my bed is calling me”

“Loki”

“Hm?”

“It’s six o’ clock”

“So? I’m tired”

“What about tea?” Peter cut in.

“I had a quick bite after my shift. I’m not going to starve to death over night” he kissed Peter on the nose. “Goodnight, chick”

Tony shook his head and sighed as Loki went off. He looked at Peter, and squeezed him tight.

“We’ll keep badgering him. He might not get on with the whole team, but he’ll help, and he’s good at the fight”

“I know” Peter said. “I don’t think he likes it though”

“No, he doesn’t” Tony said. “Still, we all have to do things we don’t want to do sometimes”

“...Why’s this guy going after teenagers?”

“I don’t know, chick. None of it makes any sense. All I know - all we know - is that it needs to be stopped. It’s not right and it’s not fair”

“We’ll stop him together, dad”

Tony couldn’t help smiling at him. “Yeah, of course we will. Me and you. And a handful of super-hero friends”

“Oh for fucks sake” Loki grumbled to himself, walking into the living room after another long shift to find the Avengers scattered around.

“Hey Loki” Tony said brightly.

“Hey dad!” Peter smiled.

Loki cleared his throat. “You didn’t tell me we were expecting company, darling”

“It was a little impromptu. I forgot to text, sorry”

“Never mind. I’ll leave you to it, shall we?” he said, turning on his heel.

“No, wait! We need you” Tony said. “Bruce, this blueprint-”

Loki sat down heavily, crossing one leg over the other, supporting his head with one hand, just his fingertips against his cheek bone. Peter jumped onto the sofa beside him.

“Hello again, Loki” Steve said.

Loki offered him a small, reluctant smile. He didn’t offer anyone else the same courtesy. He put an arm round Peter and ignored the room, wondering how it had come to this yet again. He didn’t like getting involved. To his credit, he did manage to weasel his way out of it a good 95% of the time. But that still meant that 5% of missions called for him. And that wasn’t ideal.

Loki didn’t even bother listening to them. At first he kept tickling Peter and giving him sly little pokes, trying to make him laugh, but the boy glared and pushed his hand away, focusing his full attention on the conversation at hand. Loki sighed and sat daydreaming for a bit before getting his phone out.

“Loki” Tony said as soon as he had done so. “Can’t that wait?”

Loki narrowed his eyes but slowly put his phone back anyway. God, this was dull. There were only slightly more enemy agents than Avengers, and only one had the weird de-ageing gun. Surely they could just take down the main man and the others would fall behind? Whatever. Either way, the big worried discussion ahead of planning didn’t seem to be 100% necessary.

“Wait, so there’s no way to protect ourselves from this gun?” Peter said.

“This guy isn’t targeting adults” Clint said, and then stopped, realised the error of his sentence, and sighed. “Just stay out of his way”

“Robin Hood over there is right, Pete. I want you sticking to the background soldiers. Stay away from the main man” Tony said.

“I don’t think that’s necessary” Wanda said. “This kindsprengen won’t know that he’s a kid when he’s in his suit”

“They will if he speaks” Tony said. “Whatever, I just want him out of the away. You’re a helping hand, kid, not a main part”

“What?! Where’s the fairness in that?!”

“Hey, don’t get defensive: Wanda, Bruce, and Nat are helping hands this time round, too” Tony said. “You’re on the sub-team, lets put it that way”

“What about daddy?”

Loki felt the whole room turn to look at him.

“...What?”

“You’re on my team” Tony said.

Loki blinked at him, trying to think of a suitable response.

“You haven’t listened to a word of this, have you?”

“I’ve had a long day”

Tony gave him an exasperated look, and shook his head. “Whatever, just know you’re on the front line”

“With?”

“With me. And your brother and Cap and Clint”

“Oh, I see” Loki said. “No Rhodey this time?”

“He’s away” Tony said. “So, are you going to cooperate?”

Loki didn’t say anything.

“Not really in your nature, is it?” Clint said.

Loki shot him a look. “Ever considered dropping the ‘n’?”

“Shut up! You make that joke every time you see me and it’s never once been funny”

“Is that so? Well, Natasha over there seems to think otherwise”

Clint quickly looked at Nat. “Are you serious?”

Nat shrugged, trying not to smile. “It is a little bit funny”

“Oh for gods sake” Tony sighed. “Can you two stop it? Please, at least leave the inappropriate jokes until after the sprog’s in bed”

“Dad, I’ve heard far worse from you” Peter said.

“Don’t get cheeky. Right, so, strategies. Bruce?”

Nat and Clint started drifting, talking quietly amongst themselves. Wanda tried to look like she was concentrating while she went off in a daydream. Even Peter started getting bored, until it was just Steve, Bruce, and Tony still contributing to the conversation. Thor caught Loki’s eye, but Loki quickly looked away, absentmindedly running his fingers through Peter’s hair. He was tired. He could feel his eyes drooping - and then his ears pricked up at the sound of the front door opening.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Loki!” Tony snapped. “How many times? I don’t like you talking like that in front of Peter”

“Sorry, sorry” Loki said. “Whom the fuck is that?”

Tony didn’t even dignify him with a response; just glared at him.

“Who is that?” Peter said, looking worried. “Uncle Thor’s already here, and he’s the only one who never knocks”

Tony had stood up, listening. The footsteps approached, and someone entered the room.

“Mumma Carol!” Peter exclaimed, jumping up quickly.

Nat and Clint exchanged a look. “Mumma?”

“Hey, trouble” Carol said, smiling at him.

“You’re back! You didn’t say! Why didn’t you say? I’d’ve got you a present!” Peter said, near enough vibrating with excitement.

Carol looked at him, head to one side. “Come on, then”

Peter grinned and leapt into her arms. Carol caught him easily, spinning him round while he laughed.

“Have you been good while I’ve been away?”

“Uh-huh!” Peter grinned up at her fondly.

“Good to see you again, Cap” Tony said.

“I thought that was my name” Steve said.

Tony rolled his eyes at him, and looked back at Carol. “Peter, let go of her now”

Peter reluctantly did so. Carol addressed the room.

“Good to see you all again”

“Come to lend a hand?” Clint said.

“Just checking in” Carol said, sitting down on the arm of the sofa and putting an arm round Loki’s shoulders. “Loki”

“Carol” Loki said, and smiled. “It’s nice to see you again”

“What are you staring at her like that for?” Clint said accusingly. “You fancy her or something?”

Loki turned to him. “Yes. What, and you don’t?”

“That shut you up” Nat said, laughing at the look on his face.

“Yeah, shut up, Clint” Peter said, sticking his tongue out at him. “We don’t take jokes from people whose names are one letter away from a vag-”

“PETER!”

Peter flinched a little. Tony glared at him, and at Loki.

“That’s your fault”

Loki, like most of the room, was too busy laughing to take him seriously.

“It’s not funny!” Tony frowned. “You’re a dreadful influence”

“Oh yes, I know!” Loki said.

“You could at least back me up, here”

“Why? You can’t seriously tell me you don’t find that funny”

“Right, that’s it-!”

Tony pounced at him. Loki was quick, and all too willing to join in. In a matter of moments they were wrestling on the carpet. Wanda leant close to Steve.

“Should we stop them?”

Steve sighed tiredly. “No; they’re always like this”

As usual, Loki won, pining Tony down by his wrists. He leant close, resting his nose against his husbands.

“I win”

“Yeah yeah, ok. Get off me now”

Loki did so, giving him a quick kiss before returning to his seat.

“You’ve got something to discuss, haven’t you?” Tony said to Carol, as though there hadn’t been a break in conversation.

“Yeah, just between the two of us, though”

“What?” Peter said, sitting down on Loki’s lap.

“Never you mind” Tony said. “We’ll wait until the kids in bed. We’re just finishing up here”

Carol nodded. “What have we got?”

“Some weird guy turning teenagers into toddlers” Bruce said. “We’re baffled as to why: we’re just putting a stop to it”

The meeting wrapped up relatively quickly after Captain Marvel’s arrival. Peter stayed on Loki’s lap, listening intently to everything Carol had to say. She always came back with such interesting stories - and lollipops.

“You said you’d been a good boy” she said, tapping the boy on the nose with a Juicy Drop Pop.

“Oh, Carol! I asked you to stop bringing him sweets” Tony sighed.

“Aww, don’t be such a dad” Peter grumbled, shoving the lolly into his mouth quickly, just in case Tony made a grab for it.

"I’ll continue to be a dad for the foreseeable future, thank you very much” Tony said, checking his watch. “On that note, it’s bedtime, young man”

“What?! No!” Peter grabbed Loki’s wrist, looking at his Rolex. “It’s not even that late!”

“It’s perfectly late enough, chick” Tony said. “Bedtime. Now”

Peter sighed in an exaggerated fashion, flopping back against Loki’s chest. Tony raised an eyebrow at him, which Peter pointedly ignored.

“You’ll need to rest if you’re fighting with us, little boy” Thor said.

“It’s not like we’re doing it tomorrow” Peter pouted.

“Loki, can you-”

“Hey, don’t worry yourself” Carol said. “I’ll take him. Come on, kid”

Peter whined. “Do I have to?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a whole bunch of other stories to tell you. Secret stuff” She stood up, holding a hand out to him. “Come on”

Peter looked at her, and craned round to Loki. Loki gave him a little squeeze.

“Go on, chick. Say goodnight to everyone and go” he said, giving him a quick kiss.

Peter sighed, clicked the lolly back into its plastic, and hauled himself up. He went and gave Nat and Wanda a hug, and said goodnight to everyone. Tony caught the boy, tweaking his nose.

“You’re naughty, did you know?” he kissed him hard on the cheek. “Goodnight, kiddo”

“Night dad”

“You ready, trouble?” Carol said.

“Just coming, mumma” he said, giving Tony a hug before trotting over to her and letting her guide him out of the room.

Clint let out a low whistle once he was out of the room. “I can’t believe that’s the same kid we let out onto the battlefield”

“He’s a good fighter” Wanda said.

“Yeah, but it’s times like this when you realise he really is just a kid”

Carol let Peter ramble on excitedly while he got ready for bed, filling her in on just about everything she’d missed since her last visit.

“Hey, motormouth” she said eventually. “I’m meant to be taking you to bed, remember?”

“I’m 15: I don’t need to be ‘taken to bed’, yknow” he said, but he flopped down on the bed anyway. “What are you gonna be talking with dad about?”

“Just stuff” Carol said.

“Is it about me?”

“No, not this time”

Peter sat up, looking at her. “Hey, mumma? Can I talk to you about something?”

“Is it about me?”

Peter smiled, and shook his head, looking away. “No”

Carol stopped, and then sat down on the bed, facing him.

“That’s not a happy face” she said. “What’s up?”

“...I think there’s something wrong with dad. Can you find out for me when you’re talking to him later?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“Well... He’s been acting funny. He’s been... Well, he’s been real strict with me lately. He’s been kinda harsh”

Carol took one look at the tears in his eyes, and reached for his hand.

“Hey, talk to me, baby. Has something happened?”

Peter shrugged. “Kinda”

“Recently?”

Peter nodded. “The other day...” he was quiet for a moment or two. “Y’know he has that thing about me not leaving the house without telling one of them where I’m going first? Well, I went down to the shop on the corner and forgot to tell him first. I was only gone for about ten minutes”

“Ok” this wasn’t something new: Peter was always forgetting when he wasn’t going far. “So what happened when you got home?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably. He looked down at their hands, and kept his gaze focused there.

“It’s happened before. Me forgetting. But this time... Well... He really shouted at me. He got cross because I hadn’t answered my phone either, but I couldn’t, because I didn’t take it with me, ‘cos I knew I’d only be a couple of minutes. But he still got angry, and then he hit me. Usually he just gives me a little tap, but it was different this time. He proper put me over his knee and everything, and he hit my legs really hard, and the backs of my knees. It was awful, it really, really hurt-”

“Hey, hey, don’t cry! Oh baby” Carol sighed, pulling him close and hugging him tight. “It’s ok”

“I’m not crying” he said, knuckling his eyes.

“Sure you’re not. What did daddy say about all of this?”

“He was at the hospital, so he didn’t know”

“Ah, I see”

“Mm... Dad's been real weird about me going out for a few weeks now, actually. He even stopped me from going out with my friends, and he didn’t give a proper reason; just that whole; ‘because I said so’ stuff. I don’t get it”

Carol rested her chin on top of his head. “Maybe he’s just scared about this guy that’s out targeting teenagers. Maybe he just doesn’t want you getting zapped”

Peter thought for a moment. “But I can look after myself. I wouldn’t let that guy zap me”

“You’re a fierce little fighter, but if you got in front of that ray gun, there’s no going back. One pull of the trigger, and that’s a baby Peter right there”

“Well, that’s not going to happen” Peter said. “And besides, uncle Thor said they’ll find a reversal once they’ve got the original gun... I know it’s weird, and it kinda creeps me out, but why would dad be scared about it?”

“He’s your dad: he wants to make sure nothing happens to you” she looked down at him. “I know you’ll be fine, but you know what your dad’s like: he’ll worry about anything. Remember the soluble paracetamol incident?”

Peter couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, he’s a worrier. Daddy said maybe he’s been reading too many parenting books and is trying to show me who’s in charge”

“Well, even if that were true, it’s a load of rubbish: we all know Loki is the real head of this household”

Peter nodded, sitting back. “You’re right about that”

“I know. You know, I wanna hear about your success when you and those Avengers have finished this fight you’ve been so meticulously planning”

“Oh yeah, of course! I’ll tell you everything. Wait, does this mean you’re staying?”

“I’ll stay until you’ve taken down this weird guy and his age-gun” she promised. “I’ve got some stuff to sort out with Mr Mechanic anyway”

Peter giggled, and hugged her again. “We can go out to celebrate afterwards!”

“Sure, sounds good to me” She kissed him on the forehead. “You should probably get some sleep now”

“Aww, ok” Peter sighed.

Carol stood up, and Peter wriggled under the covers and got himself comfortable. Carol smiled, ruffling his hair.

“Go to sleep. I’ll see if I can be here in the morning” she said. “Goodnight, trouble”

“Goodnight, mumma”

Loki had made his escape by the time Carol got back to the living room. Wanda and Steve had taken their leave too.

“Hey, Tony” she said, leaning against the door frame. “You ready for that chat now?”

Tony stopped what he was doing. “Sure. I’ve got some stuff to ask you”

“Good. I’ve got some questions for you, too”

“Oh dear, that sounds ominous” he raised an eyebrow at Bruce.

“Shall we?”

Tony got up. “Yeah, ok, lets go into the study”

Carol leant against the big mahogany desk, folding her arms over her chest.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“...That’s not really what you wanted to talk about”

“It wasn’t. But it is now”

Tony sighed, flopping on the sofa. “What changed?”

“I was talking to Peter. It’s just something he said. He might not be able to read you all the time, but I can”

“So..?”

“I know you’re scared. It’s this guy you’re taking down, isn’t it? You’re scared that Peter’s gonna run into him and get in front of his gun”

Tony looked at her in silence for a moment. “...What did he say?”

“Enough. It’s not hard to figure out. This guy has been around for a few weeks, and in that time, you’ve gone into panicky over-protective dad mode: not letting him go out, harsh punishments, that kind of thing. You know where I’m going with this”

“Ok, so what? He’s my son: I’m allowed to worry about him”

“I didn’t say you weren’t”

Tony bit his thumb, thinking. “I didn’t want him helping with this. I don’t want him in the line of fire. But you know what he’s like; he’d get so upset and offended if I left him out of it”

“No one is going to let anyone hurt him. You’ve got a good team there. Peter will be fine”

“I know” Tony sighed. “I have been harsh with him, I know that. I’m just upset about a whole bunch of stuff right now. He can be so much like Loki sometimes: so stubborn and headstrong. He knows what he wants and he goes for it. It’s hard to look after him sometimes”

“Well, next time, maybe you should sit down and talk to him about it. You know, instead of smacking him for any little mistake”

Tony looked at her guiltily. “Ah. He told you about that”

“He told me you hurt him and scared him after he forgot to tell you about going to the shop”

“Mm... Whatever, look, this’ll all be over soon, and then everything will be back to normal. It’s just the getting to that point that’s the problem”

“Like you said, it’ll be over soon. Which brings me on to the next thing”

Tony nodded to the seat beside him. “Sit down. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night”

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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the100imagine · 6 years

Text

AU: The Merger. Apocalyptic.

Requested by Anon. Includes: Bellamy Blake x Reader. Request: * Okay so I know this is random but a while back you had done something like what it’s like to date bellamy blake in the apocalypse. I was wondering if you could do an imagine where you meet up with his group you the reader is like a complete badass but she’s kind at the same time? He just kinda slowly falls for her. I would just love to see this!

Note: it's an AU bc it's not in the normal The 100 universe and it's set in 2156 like season 5

The layout is a bit different bc I added subtitles to section it off instead of the usual '-' bc it turned out to be longer than I first thought it would be (probably bc I went off from the 'would include') so they are like chapters, rather than me making different parts to the imagine.

I hope that's okay bc I really wanted to add a lot more detail than my first crappy draft had had. It honestly had nothing (oh the joys of writing and scrapping hours of work). I also did it this way bc the second draft had like zero development, so I wanted to change that. Hence why it took so long to write (that and I had uni presentations and deadlines)

NOTE THAT THIS IS IN NO WAY HOW I WOULD ACTUALLY WRITE A LONGER CHAPTER FILLED STORY, I AM NOT THAT BAD AT WRITING

Note revised May 1st: I've been writing this for over a month now or maybe 2

Note revised May 28th: I'm still writing this?? Granted I forgot I was writing this, but seriously?? I don't even think the Take A Chance AU was this long(?)

Note revised September 16th: God I hate myself

Note revised October 5th: hello darkness my old friend

Note revised January 21st: I’m not sure how the layout will be changed when I upload this, so fingers crossed that it’s okay

Also, don't ask for a Part 2 bc I barely do Part 2's of things, so don't bother asking.

1. AGREEING TO STAY

DAY: FOURTEEN

The merger wasn't something you were one hundred per cent on board with. Sure, in the long run, it was probably a good idea, but right now? You absolutely hated it. The group that you were a part of, before the merger, mainly consisted of older people, no one younger than twenty, but also no one older than forty. You liked it that way because it meant that if your group was ever attacked by a horde of zombies—or 'Z's' as your group dubbed them—you would just get up and run, it wouldn't matter who you left behind to die. They all claimed to know a lot about the apocalypse and how to survive, so it would have been on them if they couldn't. That was your mentality. But, since joining Bellamy's group, that way of thinking had to change. He had children in his group, two or three of them couldn't have been older than eight or nine and most of them weren't older than twenty. It was a big change. Not only that, but his group didn't survive the same way yours did. While your group tried finding a way up north, to a colder climate, that the Z's moved away from, his group was just going anywhere that looked abandoned and 'safe'. It wasn't something you were planning on, but you had to stay, even for just a little while longer, just long enough to try and convince Bellamy to have an actual plan. You had to think about the children. After that, you'd be gone.

A few of Bellamy's members, including the youngest ones, had told you that they wanted to follow you, that they wanted you to be their leader instead. They only told you that because they saw that you were packing up the few items you had with you to leave with. You wanted to leave the merger because you knew that finding a safe place was better than what the merger was already doing. The plan was to head north, raid any shops along the way for supplies, maybe find a place to stay for a few days to rest before you headed back on your journey up north to where the snow would be. Most animals and living creatures (including some people) would have wanted to avoid the cold, so they would have moved away. This would mean that, if you were to head north, granted food might be a bit difficult to find, the Z's would have more difficulty finding food, especially as they moved slower in the cold, and as there wouldn't be as many people. Some people, who were too stubborn for their own good, would have either followed the animals south, because living on tinned beans was too much, or they would have stayed behind and died from not eating. Which would mean that there would still be rations of food and supplies up north to survive on. The rest of the animals would head south, towards the warmer climate, which would mean that the Z's would have some kind of food to eat before they completely perished—because they do need brains to keep going.

That was the plan anyway. Until one of the members of Bellamy's group, who wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to leave with you or not, somehow managed to convince you to stay, even if it was just for a little while: "Look, I know Bellamy is a hardass, and, quite frankly, a dumbass half of the time, and you don't actually like most of the people from your group or mine, but we need you here. You're good for us, you're good for the kids, and believe it or not, you're good for Bellamy."

"What do you mean by that?" You asked as you placed your bag back down on the ground, looking up at him in confusion.

"Ever since the merger, Bellamy hasn't been as reckless as he used to be. Before the merger, he wouldn't have cared if one of us had taken some ammo and grabbed a gun to go shoot at things. He wouldn't have even cared that we'd sometimes just go out to shoot at cans. He wouldn't have cared if we wasted ammo or drew attention to ourselves. But now, since the merger, he does care."

"But that's not explaining why I'm good for Bellamy, that's just explaining why the merger was good."

The boy looked behind himself, not wanting anyone to overhear him. "I know that it was your leader who told him that he needed to start thinking more, but I also know that you were the one to come up with the idea to begin with."

"How?"

He shrugged. "One of the slightly younger boys in your group was boasting about you. You know, the one with really red hair." That would be Fabian, the guy who was only a month older than you but seemed to believe that it made all the difference in the world when it came to knowing the ins and outs of the apocalypse, when, in fact, he still barely knew how to tie his own shoelaces.

"Yeah? Well, he's an idiot."

"Doesn't change the fact that you know how to survive and you can help us survive. I know Bellamy doesn't listen to you, but your group does, and so do some of us. As long as Bellamy doesn't know who or where we get our information from, where we get our good ideas from, you can be the one who helps us survive this crap."

"So, you want me to be an invisible leader?" You arched an eyebrow, thinking that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. It would give you the opportunity to persuade Bellamy to change his downright godawful plan of not moving north for the better part of keeping his group alive.

The boy gave a lopsided smile as he looked down at you. "If that's how you want to see yourself, then sure. Whatever you say, Boss." He shrugged his shoulders as he spoke.

"Don't call me that." You shook your head and he smirked.

"Roger that, Captain." The boy gave a mock salute and you laughed, pushing him away from yourself slightly.

"Shut up, and try not to expose our secret."

"Yes, Ma'am." He nodded his head and laughed lightly, backing away before anyone got suspicious as to where he had gone off to.

2. KNOWING

DAY: EIGHTEEN

After that rather odd encounter with the boy from Bellamy's group four days ago, you had been suggesting some helpful ideas for a few of the older ones to give to Bellamy. Which was working well enough as Bellamy didn't seem to feel the need to ask how they were coming up with the ideas when they never did before. Most of the ideas consisted of creating lookout groups, building some sort of safety wall around the current camp, that would easily be moved for the next camp location, and making sure to travel in pairs or slightly larger groups—to ensure that they had at least some chance of getting out of a bad situation if it ever arose while out looking for rations or potential weapons. There were some members of the merger who openly listened to you, instead of listening to Bellamy, who was the main leader of the merger, which could have been because you were, somehow, their maternal figure that they had lost. Or, it could have also been because you actually listened to their ideas and tried incorporating them into your own before you got the older ones to relay it over to Bellamy.

There were times, during the day, when you had noticed Bellamy looking over at you intensely, which made you wonder if he knew your secret, and there were other times when Murphy, the boy who convinced you to stay, would tell you that Bellamy was watching you, if you didn't already know. If Bellamy did, in fact, know, then he was probably trying to find something about you that he could use to get you kicked out of the group. Maybe it was the way you trained, the way you spoke, the way you acted, or something else entirely, but whatever it was, he was bound to find it, that much you knew for sure. It was often when you were helping some of the members train with knives and other quieter weapons that you could find, rather than guns, that you would see Bellamy watching. Murphy would sometimes make a loud, unnecessary comment around you just to see how Bellamy would react. Which would usually be his shoulders tensing, his jaw clenching, his eyes glaring, and his body turning to leave. Murphy would laugh once Bellamy was out of sight and look over at you with a grin, feeling proud of himself.

"You can't keep doing that, Murphy," you told him while rolling your eyes, your own smile growing on your face at his childishness.

"I can't?"

You looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "What could you possibly get out of making him stressed?"

"Aside from stressing him out? The feeling of knowing I'm right."

"About?"

"Everything."

"Cocky," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"Oh, I am. I've even got a great one."

"Okay!" You spoke loudly, moving away from the twelve-year-old that you were helping train use knives, patting their upper arms to let them know that you thought they were doing a good job, which was something that you never imagined yourself doing, but it was all about survival now. Murphy snorted a laugh and followed you. "You can't say shit like that around the kids!"

"They've been through worse." He waved you off. "You should have heard what some of the older girls used to scream at night when Bellamy was with them. My comment was child-friendly, theirs usually weren't."

"You're unbelievable." You shook your head with a look of amazement on your face.

"I'm your best friend," he corrected you.

You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head. "Says who?"

"Me… and I'm right about everything, remember?"

"I've only known you for four days?"

"Time is nothing but an illusion," he spoke in a fake old man's voice.

With the roll of your eyes, you mumbled back, "Whatever."

3. NEW ROLE

DAY: TWENTY-ONE

A few nights after that interesting conversation, while most people who weren't on watch were sitting around the small fire eating dinner, Murphy had sat down next to you, scooping the beans out of the tin with his knife. You watched him with a slightly disgusted face, no longer eating your own food because your appetite had left you. He had killed a Z with that knife a day ago, granted he washed it, but the fact still remained that it was his killing knife, and now apparently his dinner one too. Murphy looked over to you and laughed at your expression. Most of the children, who were still awake, were eating, and a few older members of the merger were sitting around as well, which included both group leaders, despite Bellamy being the main, and one of the older men, Lloyd, from your old group—who had watched you kill four living people and two undead with a machete after a trade went bad a few months ago before the merger.

Your attention was taken away from Murphy when one of the youngest, who was about nine or so, walked up to you and patted your arm. "Mum?"

From the corner of your eye, you saw your leader, Mitch, and Lloyd freeze. They turned to face you, staring in concern, which, in turn, concerned Bellamy and a few others, who quietly asked what was wrong. Mitch answered back quietly enough for you to pick up on, although the child and Murphy apparently did not, "She once strangled a girl to death for looking at her in the wrong way. What do you think she's going to do now that a kid has called her something that she's not?" After that, his voice got too quiet to hear. Bellamy only smirked because he knew that if you snapped and killed the child, then no one would listen to you and he would be in complete charge again. However, it also meant that you would probably be kicked out and he didn't exactly like some of the members of your group who only listened to him because you told them to, so he was conflicted.

"Yeah? What's up? You need something?" You arched an eyebrow.

"Are you going to finish that? I'm still hungry and Georgie took some of mine." The boy pointed to George, the other boy with his front two teeth missing while looking at you.

A few members of your old group blinked and stared in shock, not expecting you to be okay with it. You passed the plate over to him and he smiled, taking it before he walked back over to his friend. Murphy nudged your shoulder. "That was weird, don't you think?"

Truth was, when you were younger, before the apocalypse, you never imagined yourself as a mother, let alone a maternal figure for anyone, it just never really seemed to be on your mind, it never really interested you. But, at some point during the merger, that you had technically been a part of for twenty-one days, you ended up being that maternal figure for some of the younger members of Bellamy's group. A role that you tried taking seriously because you knew they were scared and needed someone, anyone, to tell them that they were going to be okay, that they weren't alone, and that it was okay to be scared. It was probably bound to happen to you at some point anyway, considering as most of the older girls in Bellamy's group couldn't care less about anyone besides themselves, all they wanted to do was sleep with Bellamy—some even tried sleeping with a few of your original group's members—while the two other women from your group, who had no children before the apocalypse, seemed to be disgusted with the younger members, so they were out of the competition. Even though it wasn't a competition, you weren't even trying.

You looked over to him, rolling your eyes. "Shut up, Murphy."

"Yes, Mum," he mumbled with a smirk, continuing to eat his dinner with his knife.

4. FEELING NOTHING

DAY: TWENTY-THREE

Two days after the dinner, and the accidental name calling, Bellamy decided it was time for the group to keep moving, to change campsite locations. That idea was something you could get behind, especially as the group was slowly making its way up north, rather than going further south or just to the side. The idea also might have been because of a few persuasive words you had given Mitch, who then passed them onto Bellamy—who was none the wiser to the fact that it was your idea. During the move, Murphy was by your side, holding his gun tightly in his hands while his shoulders were tensed up. Bellamy was closer up to the front of the group, with a map in his hands that had the route already planned out in a red coloured pen mark, while Mitch stayed closer to the back—taking on the strategy that a leader of a pack of wolves would have, which seemed to be working anyway, despite the fact that you weren't wolves. Most of the younger members were in the middle, closed in by those who knew how to use the weapons, which mainly consisted of all the members of your old group, and only a few of Bellamy's.

"How far do you think Bellamy will take us?" Murphy asked quietly.

"Not as far as I would go, but that's just because he's trying to be cautious."

Murphy scrunched his face up and scoffed through his nose. "Since when are you on the 'Bellamy Blake defence squad'?"

You laughed quietly. "Since we started heading north."

"We are?"

"Yes. We shifted directions a while ago, and I can tell that we have from the placement of the sun."

"My god, could you be any more of a loser?"

"Yeah, I mean, I could make a sundial and tell you the exact time."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, shaking his head while grinning.

"You asked."

"I didn't think you would deliver."

With a shrug, you laughed. "I always—"

A loud, shrieking, scream cut you off and you turned to look behind yourself, as did Murphy. One of the girls from Bellamy's group, who you had seen leave his tent early in the morning three days ago, was trying to push a Z away from her. She had been one of the girls who had had a gun before the merger, so you assumed she knew what she was doing, that she could protect herself, but her gun was on the ground, with the safety still on. It bit into her hand as she, stupidly, tried pushing its face away from her. After finally realising what was happening in the situation, Murphy shot the Z in the head and it dropped to the ground while the girl cried and cradled her hand to her chest, slowly turning to face the group. The members from your old group lifted their weapons up to make sure no other Z got close to the group, if there were any more Z's around, that is. Bellamy suddenly appeared beside you, wondering what the yelling was about, and he stared at the girl. His expression was the same as it always was: empty. He didn't even flinch when he raised his own gun, ignoring the girl's whimpering and pleading, and shot her right between her eyes. Bellamy didn't even bother staying behind to watch as his previous group member's head was knocked back from the force of the blow or as her body fell to the ground in a heap. The dull thud of her body hitting the ground sent a shiver down your spine.

"Someone pick up the gun and let's keep moving," he ordered.

"Bellamy!" You called back, turning around to face him, still in shock. "Shouldn't we move her? Give her a burial or something? Are we just going to leave her out here like she's nothing?"

He turned back around to face you, shaking his head as he scoffed. "What do you expect me to do? Cry over her lack of survival skills? It's not my fault she got herself killed."

It then clicked with you that he didn't even recognise her. He didn't even remember the girl he had slept with. Bellamy didn't even bother remembering her name. She was just another dead person to him. He didn't care. Bellamy stared at you for a few more seconds before he turned back around and kept moving. The rest of the group was still in shock, but followed behind him, slowly, nonetheless. Murphy let out a deep sigh, shaking his head before he placed his hand on your back and pushed you forward a bit so you could both keep walking together. One of your old group members, Wyatt, picked up the gun and clicked the safety off, handing it to one of the boys from Bellamy's group, who was crying and holding the gun with shaky hands.

5. CHANGE IS GOOD

DAY: THIRTY-ONE

Only eight days had passed since Bellamy killed the girl. The group had moved camp twice since then. It also had only been over a week since the little boy, Lewis, had called you 'Mum', and since then, others had started to do it as well. It had become a normal thing, something that you didn't think twice about anymore. Murphy often did it as a joke, but only when it was the two of you hanging out together, he didn't want to mess up his reputation—whatever reputation he claimed that was. You did notice, however, that whenever it happened, and Bellamy was around, Bellamy would roll his eyes and shake his head, thinking that it was stupid. There were even times when you would hear him scoff to himself when he overheard one of the members call you mum. You never let his attitude get to you, after all, it didn't concern him—apparently, nothing did. If the younger members of the merger felt better, safer, or even happier, calling you their 'mum' or at least seeing you as their maternal figure, then you were going to let them. They were children, they shouldn't have to grow up desensitised or feeling numb, even if it was the apocalypse.

"So," Murphy started to talk once he walked up to you, while you were helping set up small tents in the new campsite, "how does it feel knowing you're a mother to about twenty people?"

You stopped what you were doing, and stared at the tent material. "Is that a genuine question or are you being a piece of shit?" You turned to look at him, still upset that you couldn't give the eighteen-year-old girl the proper burial that she deserved. He had his hands in his pocket and shrugged, moving over to help you.

"Genuine, I guess."

"Weird," you answered truthfully, continuing to set the tent up, now with Murphy's help, while glancing at a few of the others who helped set up the other tents. "I can barely remember my own mother, so I have no idea if I'm doing it right."

"I'd say you are."

"No offence, but your opinion on this matter means nothing to me."

Murphy laughed quietly. "I know, it's fine, I don't take offence to that." He shook his head and turned to look at you. "If you really want to know if you're doing something right, then you should probably know that the number of children who have had nightmares and have woken up screaming has gone down, by, like, a lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Before the merger, if one of the kids was scared, Bellamy would just brush them off and tell them to get over it. You, on the other hand, talk to them about it and comfort them, you don't leave them until they've stopped crying and have calmed down."

"I didn't know that," you spoke softly and slowly, being slightly shocked at what Murphy had told you. You stood up straighter, letting the material of the tent fall from your hands. Murphy did the same.

"Well, you've only been with us for thirty-one days, and I did tell you that you were good for us."

"Yeah, you did," your voice still sounded distant as you took it all in.

"And I'm always right."

You snapped out of your daze and replied in your normal tone of voice, "You were wrong to eat your beans with your killing knife, you threw up like five times after that."

"Okay, let's move on from that, shall we? You bring that up a lot."

"I have to remind you of your stupidity so you don't get lost in the clouds while you're on your high horse, the air is thin up there, you have to be careful," you jested. Murphy snorted a laugh and nudged you, shaking his head while he finished putting up the rest of the tent.

"Whatever. But I am right that you're good for us, this change is good. Without you, Bellamy would have sent us burning into the ground long ago. We would have probably been down in double-digit numbers if it wasn't for you, as well. You keep us safe and alive. We need you."

"We shouldn't be losing anyone, even in single digit numbers. Besides, Bellamy isn't that bad, Murphy."

"Ever since his sister died, he has been."

"H-He had a sister?"

"Yeah, Octavia. She died a few years ago, I think she was bitten by a Z. Since then, he's never cared who has lived or died, he only cares about himself."

You were about to make another comment when you heard something being thrown down to the ground. It was the sound of metal tent pegs dropping and landing in a heap on the grass. Both of you turned to look towards your right, towards the others who were setting up the tents, who had also heard the noise and turned to look for themselves, and you saw Bellamy straighten up and clench his jaw. Murphy swore under his breath and you both watched Bellamy walk away. None of the others knew why he had gone off so suddenly, which was probably for the best.

"Fuck, I—"

"I'll talk to him," you told Murphy, patting his arm. "Just help finish up here."

6. AN EXPLANATION

DAY: THIRTY-ONE

When you walked away to find Bellamy, trying not to look panicked as you didn't want to freak anyone out, you knew that he would probably yell at you and tell you to leave him alone. It was expected, he had just overheard someone talk about his sister, his dead sister, like it was nothing, but he needed to know that he wasn't going to have to grieve alone. You also realised that it couldn't have been easy on him, killing the girl, especially if it brought up any memories of his sister. By the time you did find him, it had got darker, and you knew that most of the merger members would be having dinner or getting ready for bed. Bellamy was in his own tent when you finally found him. It was the first place you looked, but you guessed that he had only just returned to it, he might have been at target practice before, trying to get his mind off of things. Or, perhaps, he was occupying his mind some other kind of way with someone else.

His back was turned to you when you walked in and he was sitting on his sleeping bag. "Bellamy," you spoke softly, staying close to the entrance, not wanting to overstep the boundaries.

"Go away," his voice was hoarse.

With a quiet sigh, you shook your head, despite knowing he couldn't see you do that. "You know I can't."

"Why? I told you to leave, so leave."

"Not until you talk to me. It's not good to bottle things up. You don't have to be alone."

He sniffed. "Just get out."

"Not until you tell me about what happened out there. Not until you open up about what happened with—"

"No."

"Bellamy—"

"I said no!" He yelled, standing up to face you. "Don't you ever talk about her! Just get out." He wasn't yelling as much as you thought he would have been, you also expected him to be physically violent, but he hadn't touched you at all.

"I'm not leaving you like this," you told him, offering him a kind smile while slowly walking over to gently wipe away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks.

He stared down at you, letting you wipe the tears before he moved away from you quickly, almost recoiling from your touch, as if you had burned him. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I—"

"You can talk to me, Bellamy, you can talk to me and it will just be between us."

"I… She—" He stopped himself.

"She what?"

Bellamy shook his head and sat back down on his sleeping bag. Hesitantly, you moved over to sit by him, but not extremely close, just close enough to let him know you were there. "She wasn't meant to be there," he admitted, closing his eyes as he sighed. "You know what? I shouldn't be telling you this."

"You have to tell someone, why not the 'Camp Mum'?"

"I can't believe you let people call you that."

"They're scared, they need someone. Most children's instincts are to find their mum when they're scared, and I'm guessing that none of them have their real mother anymore. So, if I can be the one to make them feel safer, then who am I to take that away from them?"

He looked over to you before quickly looking away. "She was just a kid," he started to explain, looking at the floor of his tent. "I was meant to be looking after her because I was her big brother. We were meant to be inside the camp, but she wanted to see the stupid flowers. Most of the plants around our old camp were just weeds, but these ones were real flowers. I don't know what they were, but they weren't weeds. I didn't want to be out there, so I wasn't paying as much attention to her, as I was to making sure none of our other group members found us and told us off. I only had my back turned for a second before I heard her scream and cry. When I turned back to look at her, a Z had already bitten into her shoulder while another was biting her arm. There was nothing I could do to save her, there's no cure… I couldn't do anything to save her. But I knew I could stop her from being one of them. Octavia never wanted to be one of them. I lifted my gun up and I—"

"You saved her, Bellamy," you told him. Murphy never said how she had died so you assumed that he didn't know the full story or what Bellamy had been through. He didn't know that to Bellamy, killing that girl must have been like he was reliving the death of Octavia all over again. "You saved her from becoming the monster that she didn't want to become." You couldn't blame him for his actions or behaviour. He had to kill his own sister. If you had to kill your own sibling, knowing that they were watching you, knowing that they knew you would be the one to kill them, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself after that either. "You're not a bad person."

"I'm not safe for anyone here."

"You've got them this far, Bellamy. I'd say that you are."

"They don't trust me in the same way that they trust you."

"Then earn their trust. Be someone they can turn to."

"How?" He asked, watching you stand up to leave.

"By being their leader."

7. DIFFERENT

DAY: THIRTY-EIGHT

Only another week had passed, yet a lot had happened in that one week. After finding out what really happened to Bellamy's sister, and telling him that it wasn't his fault, he wasn't as cold to you as he was before. The scoffing at the nickname had stopped, the glaring had stopped, and instead, he was trying to be a better leader. He knew that his secret was safe with you, especially after he heard you tell Murphy to knock it off with the questioning. Of course, Murphy was grouchy about not knowing what happened, but he got over it after three days. The weather was getting colder, especially as Bellamy had moved camp again, so it meant that more groups had to go out and find supplies to keep the rest of the group warm. The group had only moved once during the week, and the further north you got, the more abandoned the buildings had become, which meant that there were more rations to find—which was a good thing because it meant that people didn't have to ration the rations like before.

While you had been sitting in one of the larger tents that were used for holding weapons and rations, Murphy was off catching up on his lost sleep after his guard duty from a few hours ago. This meant that you were left alone to try and plan the next trip ahead. There was a small table set up in the tent, with a faded map and a few pencils, with one red pen in the mix. Mitch had asked you to set up a route because it was what you had done for your old group before the merger and you were good at it, and then, when you were done, he would give it to Bellamy without telling him that it was your idea. That was the original plan, but since Bellamy was no longer avoiding you like you were the zombie plague, it had been a bit more difficult to keep the secret from him. It was also a lot more difficult to keep the secret from him when he cleared his throat from behind you, looking over your shoulder.

"Ah, shit!" You yelled, holding your hand to your chest as your heart thumped quickly.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking at a map."

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow with his hands behind his back.

"I like maps."

"Okay… but can't you admire a map without drawing on it?"

"I could, but I really like maps."

Bellamy sighed, tilting his head at you. "What are you really doing?"

"If I tell you, you'll get mad."

"Oh, really?"

"Umm…"

He lightly hit your arm with the back of his hand. "We're friends, you can tell me."

"We are? Or are you just saying that to trick me?"

A small smile grew on Bellamy's face as he laughed a little. "We're friends. Just tell me what you're doing."

"Mitch wanted me to plan the next trip to the new campsite."

"Oh."

"'Oh'? Bellamy, what does that mean?"

He looked at the map. "It means… 'oh'."

"You're mad."

"No. I'm not mad." He shook his head, staring at the map still, instead of you. "How many times have you done this?"

"Every single time." You winced, not looking at him in his eyes this time.

"Really? Why did Mitch tell me that he did it? Why didn't he give you the credit?"

Your eyebrows furrowed together, not expecting that. "The… What?"

"Did you think I'd be angry at you for planning our trips?" He asked and you looked at him, making him look at you as well.

"Well, I didn't think you really liked me all that much, so…"

"I didn't, in the beginning. But we're friends. I can't be mad at you for making the routes that are keeping our group alive and safe."

"So, you're not mad?"

Bellamy shook his head. "No. Just tell me when you've finished the route." Bellamy offered you a smile before he turned around and walked out of the tent.

"What just happened?”

8. NOT THE ONLY ONE

DAY: THIRTY-EIGHT

It was almost the middle of the night, and most of the younger members were asleep, but you and a few of the older members were still awake, sitting around a small fire, unable to sleep yourselves. Murphy was sharpening his knife, quietly talking to you about how training was going, as he was also helping train some of the members of the group, along with Lloyd and Wyatt, while you were sorting the ammo out, evenly distributing it into the small boxes.

"Fabian is absolutely hopeless. He couldn't hit the target even if it was directly in front of him and guiding his knife towards itself for him. I get what you mean when you say he's an idiot," Murphy mumbled.

"Three months ago, he almost shot himself in the leg cleaning a loaded gun," you told him.

"Jesus, he's a walking disaster. I feel sorry for his mother for giving birth to the world’s biggest mistake."

"Amen to that, 'Johnny boy'."

"You heard him call me that?"

"It was the highlight of my day."

"I hate him," Murphy hissed bitterly.

The tent, just over on the right of you and Murphy, rustled, and a little girl, who had matted hair and pale skin, walked out and rubbed her eyes. You slowed down what you were doing, waiting for her to waddle over to you for something, and you smiled softly, knowing that it would be more calming for the girl to see that than a blank expression. But, instead, she moved over to Bellamy, who was closer to her tent and who also had his back to her while he was cleaning his gun. She nudged his back. "Papa?" He tensed up at her small voice and turned to look at the girl, an eyebrow raised and a frown on his face.

Silently, you stopped separating the bullets and watched. Murphy also stopped talking and watched, his eyes flickering between the two of them, occasionally looking at you. Bellamy, not knowing what to do, cleared his throat and glanced away quickly, catching sight of your expression before he looked back and sat up straighter. "Uh, yeah, kid? Can I help you?" He asked her, sounding rather awkward and slightly aggressive.

The little girl began to talk softly to Bellamy, so you could no longer hear her. You looked back down at the ammo, with a small smile on your face, and shook your head with a quiet laugh. Murphy nudged your arm, leaning over to whisper, "Does that mean I have to start calling him 'Daddy' now?"

"Shut up, Murphy," you responded, no longer smiling, but instead pulling a slightly disgusted face.

Murphy laughed to himself, sharpening his knife once more. "Yes, Mum."

9. MAKE LIGHT

DAY: FORTY-FIVE

Ever since that night, you made it your mission to joke about it to Bellamy. Murphy did too, but it was only when you were in a big crowd surrounded by the younger members of the merger, and it was purely just to annoy Bellamy, considering as Murphy still didn't like him very much. The other members of the merger now started to call Bellamy 'Dad' as well as calling you 'Mum', much to Bellamy's annoyance. Whenever the group would be moving camp, slowly making their way up north as you had hoped, you would catch up to Bellamy with a smirk and make a comment, most of the time it ranged from: 'Babe, our kids are wondering when we're going to stop for a break.' To, 'Our son says he's out of ammo, you got any more?'. At first, Bellamy would rarely find the humour in your comments, because he never saw himself as the father figure to the group, but there were times when you would find yourself talking about the members like they were your children without realising it, and he would end up smiling, even if you were yelling at him for being rude.

"All I'm saying is that you don't have to be so aggressive when talking to Georgie and Lew. They're some of the youngest in our group and they don't fully understand why you sound so angry with them when they ask if they could sit down for a little while," you told him as the two of you walked slightly ahead of the group.

Bellamy sighed and shook his head. "I'm like that because it's almost dark soon and we haven't got to the checkpoint yet," he answered, showing you the map you had been working on.

"I know what the map says, Bell. I know it better than anyone else."

"Then you know that we have to make it to the checkpoint before anyone can rest, that includes the boys." Bellamy had wanted the group to move again, just before it got too dark to move safely. The journey up north might have been better in the long run, but that didn't mean the journey was going to be smooth sailing. It got darker much earlier than it did down south, and with the lack of light, it meant that the heat from the sun didn't last as long, so it became colder much earlier too, and the cold meant slower movements when it came to travelling. "We can't always baby them, you know that." Bellamy looked down at you before looking ahead of himself again, occasionally glancing down at the map. "They have to grow up sometime."

"I know, but, right now, my kids don't need to be scared of their leader. Not for another few years at least, just wait until they can really understand right from wrong."

There was a small smile that made its way to Bellamy's face as he looked at the map and then back up to the path. "Right," he commented.

"What?" You asked, knowing he wasn't saying everything he wanted to, you could somehow hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"I call you out on your bullshit, Bellamy. Tell me."

"It's nothing, I promise."

"If it's nothing then it shouldn't be a problem for you to tell me what's on your mind."

He shook his head and laughed lightly. "I just like the fact that you take your role seriously. You know, being their mother."

"Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged. "Never pegged you as the type when you first joined the merger."

"I never pegged you as the type of guy who would have more than one facial expression when I first joined the merger either, but here we are. All you did was frown and glare," you told him while trying to imitate his expression.

"I don't look like that," he argued.

You laughed. "Umm, yeah, you do."

"No, I… I smile," he tried to sound convincing, but ultimately failed.

"Yeah, after killing Z's and watching Murphy throw up."

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "I smile at more things than that."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Well…" Bellamy had started but quickly looked back down to the map to avoid answering you.

"Really?" You laughed at his behaviour. "My apocalyptic husband is an idiot," you mumbled with a smile, shaking your head before you quickly glanced behind yourself to check on the others. George and Lewis were walking behind the two of you, holding hands, while looking exhausted. You turned back to Bellamy and saw him quickly look away from you, something that you decided not to comment on, but rather ignore and hope it was nothing. "On behalf of our sons, are we there yet?"

"You tell me, Anaximander."

"I'm not a map maker! Stop calling me that! You've called me that ever since you found out I've been the mapper."

Bellamy laughed quietly to himself. "Whatever," he mumbled. "We are almost there, just another mile to go."

You looked back to the boys. "Almost there, just hang on for a little while longer. Can you do that?" George and Lewis nodded their heads and you smiled. "You guys are doing great." When you turned back to the front and looked over at Bellamy, you rolled your eyes at his knowing smile. "Oh, shut up."

10. GOSSIP

DAY: FIFTY

Murphy was laying down on your sleeping bag in your tent while you scanned over the map again. He had found a dirty tennis ball on the ground once the group got to the checkpoint and he had kept it with himself ever since, making sure to hide it from the younger members of the group—he claimed that he wouldn't have seen it again if he gave it to them to play with and he needed it to keep himself sane. He was filling you in on what his journey was like, considering as you had been up at the front with Bellamy to make sure he was reading the map directions clearly, while throwing the ball up in the air to catch. One of his most stressed points was that he hated travelling alone, mainly because he had to listen to some of the girls' gossip and some of the kids' weird lies that they claimed to be true—like seeing a zombie dog going on a walk with its zombie owner. You could only laugh at how annoyed Murphy sounded as he recalled the conversation he was forced into with one of the kids.

"I swear to god, if I'm forced to listen to that kid one more time, I'm putting a gun in my mouth."

"Kids just want to see the good in things, you know? They forget that their wild imaginations aren't believed by adults because they haven't lost their innocents about the world, even when the world has ended."

"Yo, Socrates," Murphy called out, throwing the tennis ball at the side of your head, "shut up."

You looked up from the map when the ball hit you on the side of your head. "Just sayin'."

"Mmm, well… Oh, and another thing!—" You couldn't help but laugh at his excitement. He was acting like a small puppy, one who was deprived of any attention, that was finally seeing another dog for the first time. The 'another thing' that was apparently noteworthy, according to Murphy, was that Bellamy had stopped sleeping around with the girls from his group. This piece of information wouldn't have mattered that much to you before. But, for some reason, now, it did, and for some reason now you were happy about it. But you would have assumed that it was awkward for him now that the 'Dad' nickname stuck and it ruined any other variations of it for him. Maybe it was because, in the beginning, it was only a joke, but now, since it's become such a normal thing, something more real, it would just seem weird for him to sleep with someone who he might consider his apocalyptic child. "Crazy, right?" Murphy held his arms out, waiting for your response. "That man is a whore and I'm surprised he hasn't completely shrivelled up and died."

You raised an eyebrow, noting how much he sounded like some of the girls from his group. "Why was this something you felt like I needed to know?"

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"Didn't you just say that you hated listening to gossip? Why are you starting it? Are you going to ask me to braid your hair next?"

Murphy rolled onto his side to pick up the tennis ball. "I've been surrounded by too many teenaged girls, which wouldn't have been a problem to me before because—"

"Move on!"

"It's like a contagious disease," he whined. "I-I can't be alone next trip, I'm up at the front with you next time," he told you while pointing at you, making it clear that it wasn't a negotiation.

"I'm sure Bellamy would like that."

Murphy laughed to himself as he rolled back onto his back to throw the ball up again. "I think he will too." He nodded before yawning. "It's late, I'm going to go to bed," he said as he caught the ball and sat up. "I will see you in the morning, Mother. Bright and early!" He laughed to himself again as he left your tent, without giving you time to say goodbye to him.

"Clearly that 'contagious disease' has messed with his head a lot more than he realises," you mumbled to yourself, looking back down at your map. "What a strange, strange boy."

11. PROGRESS

DAY: FIFTY-NINE

Camp moved again. This time, instead of camping outside, Bellamy had noticed that there was a large building, just off to the side of the path your mapped-out route had been taking the group. He decided to scope the place out, with a few other appointed guards before setting camp up inside. Once the building was cleared, and a perimeter was set up outside to make sure no entrances were left vulnerable, everyone else moved inside. Bellamy stood beside you with a wide smile on his face, it was one of the very few real smiles he had had since you joined the merger almost two months ago. The building had two floors, the bottom one was mostly empty and looked like parts of the ground had been burnt, or whatever used to be inside was burnt. There were pieces of debris and random metal tables and chairs—Bellamy suggested that it could have been a workshop before the apocalypse as there were some tools left behind and random frameworks left too. But whatever it was, it was home for now. The upstairs was cleared and people moved their belonging up there to set up their sleeping bags.

Without saying anything, you nodded over to Mitch, who nodded back. Mitch and Wyatt had moved some of the metal tables together near one of the walls of the building before moving one of the metal frameworks and a large piece of flat wood, with the help of Lloyd, over to the middle gap, in between the tables, and pressed it against the wall. At first, Bellamy seemed confused as to what they were doing, but he kept quiet when he saw that you understood what was happening. Wyatt collected a few of the tools from around the building, mostly clamps and parts that would hold things together, while you pulled out one of the larger maps and waited for Wyatt and Lloyd to attach the wood to the frame before you pined the map up against it, making a makeshift bulletin board. Mitch took out smaller maps and other pieces of equipment and placed them down on the metal tables. Soon, Bellamy realised that it was a small 'Base of Operations' area to plan out new routes and ration trips. Lloyd and Wyatt collected the boxes of ammo and spare guns to place underneath the tables or on top of them.

"I know it's not the best," Mitch spoke with a slightly disappointed expression, "but we are working with what we've got."

"No, no," Bellamy argued, thinking that it was a rather genius idea. "It's great. How'd you come up with this?"

"You should thank your mapper for all of this, not me," Mitch replied, holding his hands up in defence.

You turned around once you placed the last pin into the map. "I worked with the military before the world ended. We did this before the merger too."

Bellamy crossed his arms over his chest with a light laugh. "So, that's why you were so good at mapping and training?"

"It came in handy." You nodded in response.

"I should have guessed sooner. Any more secrets you have hiding from me?"

"One or two up my sleeves, but I'm sure you'll find out about them soon enough."

Murphy walked up to the base of operations, fake gagging. "Get a room you two."

"What do you need?" You asked with a laugh.

"Lewis isn't feeling so good, he's asking for you."

"Oh," you frowned, no longer laughing. "Is he upstairs?"

Murphy nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, uhh." You turned to Mitch. "You good to finish setting up here?"

Mitch nodded. "Yeah, go see your kid."

Murphy led you upstairs to where Lewis was before he backed away, towards the top of the stairs, leaving you alone with him. You watched as Murphy pulled one of the metal chairs towards himself and sat down, facing you and Lewis, watching quietly in case you needed him for anything. Lewis was paler than usual and his temperature was higher than it should have been. His face looked sunken in, his eyes were surrounded by a dark reddish-purple bruise, and his lips were dried and cracked. You sat down next to him, opening up one of the water bottles and handed it over to him, wiping away the tears that he had rolling down his cheeks. Once he handed you the water bottle back, he rested his head against you, wrapping his small arms around your waist. Only one thought came to your mind as you poured some water on a small towel to press against his forehead and placed the water bottle back down on the ground slowly.

"Lew," you asked softly, keeping the damp towel pressed against his skin.

"Yeah, Mama?"

"Were you bitten by anything before we got here?"

"No, Mama."

"Are you sure?" You asked softly again. He nodded his head and yawned. "Okay, get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay," he mumbled back.

12. GONE

DAY: FIFTY-NINE

A few hours had passed, probably two at the most, and you couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. Usually, where there was one, you'd find the other. Murphy had dozed off on the chair, holding his tennis ball in his right hand, so he didn't see your worried expression. Lewis had woken up ten minutes ago for the second time during his sleep and was finally drinking water, and eating some of the crackers that the last ration group had found—it was the only thing he could keep down. He threw up the food you tried to give him an hour ago. His temperature was still warm, but it wasn't as hot as before, but that could have just been because you kept a cold towel to his forehead.

"Hey, Lew?" You looked down at him once he put the lid back on the water bottle.

"Yeah?" He sniffed, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve.

An awful taste was lodged in your mouth as you swallowed and asked, "Where's Georgie? Didn't he want to come over to see how you were doing?"

"He's outside." Lewis shrugged, picking up another cracker.

"What-What do you mean? What do you mean he's outside?" It was getting harder to stay calm in front of him.

"He wanted to play outside for a little bit before he came inside with all of us, I would have stayed with him but I was too tired."

"Okay, thank you for telling me. I-I'm just going to go downstairs for a little while, but I will have Murphy over there take care of you. Okay?"

"Okay." He nodded, unfazed by your words.

You offered him a smile before you stood up and quickly made your way over to Murphy, hitting him awake. "What?" He sat up straighter.

"Watch my kid, I will be back." You looked around the top floor to make sure no one was looking at you.

"Why? What happened?"

"I don't know. I will tell you as soon as I find out, okay?"

"Roger that. Go," he ushered you off, standing up himself as he made his way over to Lewis, putting the tennis ball back into his pocket.

Without looking back at them, you quickly made your way downstairs. While you had been gone, Mitch and the others had set up the tent material as a divider for the Base of Operations, holding the material up with the metal framework that was left lying around. You pushed through the dark green material and made your way over to one of the metal tables to grab a gun with shaky hands. Bellamy turned his body slightly away from the map to see who it was before he turned back to the map again when he saw it was you but quickly spun to face you again when he realised what you were doing. "Hey, hey, slow down." He stepped toward you and placed his hands on top of yours.

You couldn't think straight, it felt like you were having a heart attack. "I can't, Bell. Not now."

"What's going on?" Mitch asked.

"Georgie."

"What about George?" Lloyd tilted his head, he was sitting on top of one of the ammo boxes.

"He's outside."

"What?" Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

"I asked Lewis where George was because I realised he hadn't been to visit Lewis, and he said he was outside playing. He never came in with us, he wanted to play outside. He's all alone out there and he's probably scared."

"Okay, I'll go with you," Bellamy replied, trying to calm you down. "Just—"

"H-How could I let this happen? They were right behind me! He was right behind me! How—?"

"Hey!" Bellamy yelled, forcing you to stop and breathe, his hands were on your upper arms, keeping you from moving. "We will find him and bring him back. It's okay. Last perimeter check showed that no Z's were around, he's okay."

With a shaky breath, you nodded and loaded the gun properly. Bellamy, Lloyd, and Wyatt followed you outside, making sure to close the door properly so no one else could follow the four of you. But you were sure that Mitch would have stopped them anyway if they tried to do so. As you stepped outside of the building, you could feel the cold wind. It was much colder than you expected it to be, so you had no doubt that George was freezing out there all alone. Wyatt handed you one of the small torches he had brought out and he pointed to the left, indicating that he would go look over there. Bellamy nudged you and pointed to the right, and Lloyd motioned towards the back of the building, leaving you to go straight ahead. As you stepped forwards, you held your gun up, pointing it out in front of you, in your right hand, while your left hand was underneath with the torch facing out in front of you. The wind blew loudly against the leaves of the trees, causing a loud rustling and howling sound to emit, which meant that you had to be careful as to where you stepped because you didn't know if George would run off and scream or not if he heard it.

After a while, the wind died down, causing it to be almost too quiet outside as you walked around, bar the sound of your own heart beating wildly, and an unwelcome sense of fear crept up the back of your neck with a cold sweat. The temperature had dropped a few more degrees while you had been out, and your cheeks stung from the cold air as if they were being cut with tiny knives. Your hands had become stiff as your blood struggled to circulate in the cold weather. As you stepped forward once more—after being out for around twenty minutes—you felt the ground shift slightly under your boot and a slight metal squeak echoed dully. Slightly confused, you moved your foot to see what it was, you noticed a red sign with white writing once you shone the torch over it. The words: 'WARNING: DANGEROUS SITE. UNAUTHORISED ENTRY TO THIS SITE IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN.' were written on it, and next to it, slightly covered by dead leaves, there was a yellow sign with black writing that simply stated: 'DANGER: RADIATION.' with nothing else. As you bent down to look at the signs, to make sure you were actually reading them correctly, you heard twigs snapping to your left. Quickly, you turned to point the gun, aiming the torch to see what was out there with you. Wyatt had his hands up in defence, scrunching his face up as the light from the torch shone in his face, blinding him for a second, while Lloyd shook his head with a frown.

"No luck," Lloyd commented, noticing the signs on the ground.

"We found no footprints, no ripped pieces of clothing left on the low branches of trees, and we couldn't hear anything. Which means no Z's… or George." Wyatt sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You?"

"Nothing." You shook your head.

"What about Bellamy?"

You shrugged. "I don't know."

Lloyd began to walk towards the direction Bellamy would have been in. "Let's find out."

Wyatt placed his hand on your shoulder, glancing down at the signs you had been looking at. Wyatt remained quiet, like Lloyd had, when he looked back up at you. "We will find him. He's going to be fine." You nodded your head and turned to follow Lloyd. Wyatt was next to you, occasionally turning his weapon to the side, looking through the scope, before he turned back. "It's not your fault," Wyatt told you quietly. "None of this is your fault."

"Can we just find Georgie and bring him back home without talking?"

"Sure."

A few meters in front of you, Lloyd stopped abruptly and lowered his weapon. "Lloyd?" You asked, moving to stand next to him on his right while looking at his face. "W—?" When you turned to see what he was looking at, you saw Bellamy against one of the trees, his back pressed up against the base of the trunk, with his hands resting on top of his knees. He was gripping his gun weakly and was quietly staring off into the space in front of himself. "Bellamy?" He didn't look up at you as you stepped closer to him, moving around Lloyd and to his left.

It was then when you were able to see what Lloyd had seen from where he was standing, that you felt as if your heart had stopped beating altogether, breaking apart into small pieces after it froze with the weather outside. George was on the ground, behind the tree that Bellamy was leaning against, with the left side of his skull cracked in. His left eye was missing and you could see straight through his skull, right to the back of it. Half of his brain was missing. George's shirt was raised up slightly and you could see that his small intestines were spilling out onto the blood-soaked ground.

"No." You shook your head. "No, no, no!" The gun and torch in your hand dropped to the ground as you walked over to him and fell to your knees, starting to shove his intestines back into his stomach, with shaky hands, as if it was going to bring him back. "No, no. C-C'mon, Georgie, no. N—" Your voice broke as you started to cry, no longer pushing his intestines back in but instead pulling his body up from the ground to cradle to your chest. Wyatt and Lloyd were too shocked to stop you, and Bellamy was still staring off. "Please, please come back. You're my baby, you can't die, you can't, you—" It felt as if your throat was closing up. "P-Please, Georgie, I'm—" His skin was ice cold as you placed your left hand to his right cheek, not caring that half of his face was missing.

"We can bury him," Bellamy finally spoke up, his voice cracking as he did. "We will build him a casket, and we… we will bury him, headstone and all."

"He's not—" Bellamy turned to face you as you shook your head. "Georgie, he's—"

"He's gone. I'm sorry."

13. LAID TO REST

DAY: SIXTY-ONE

Lewis didn't quite understand. He couldn't understand what happened to George. It didn't make sense that his best friend wasn't coming back. There would be no more sleepovers in the tents, there would be no more sharing food at dinner time, and there would be no more games to play. Lewis didn't quite understand why. He didn't know why George wasn't waking up, why George was so tired, why Mitch and Wyatt were making that small wooden box, or why George was covered in white tent material, all wrapped up, safe from the outside world. The white material had some previous stains from the mud from when it was used, but now it had darker brown stains, over where George's stomach and head was. Lloyd had been the one to wrap him up. Lewis didn't quite understand that either.

When you had brought George's body back to the building two days ago, you had been holding his small body to your own, protectively, despite knowing you could no longer protect him. Lloyd had gone in first and told Mitch, who then when to get Murphy. Murphy had left Lewis with one of the other girls from his old group, who didn't mind all that much as Lewis was only sleeping, and he followed Mitch outside while Lloyd stayed inside. He didn't say anything when he saw you, he just frowned and asked Mitch what he should do to help. You didn't want to let him go, you just wanted to hold him, hoping that maybe he'd come back, that maybe it was all just a dream. But hope was pointless. Bellamy had been the one to pull George's body away from you, to hand George over to Lloyd, and he had been the one who held you as you cried throughout the night.

Only a few people were allowed to attend the small burial, as only a few people actually knew who George was, despite being in his group from the start of the apocalypse. Murphy had been the one to dig the hole, you knew that because you had sat outside, silently, with him while he did, just staring at the gaping hole in the ground that only got bigger. Once George's small casket was lowered and buried underneath the soil, Mitch placed a small headstone down at the top, with George's name and years of birth to death carved into it.

Murphy stepped to the headstone and pulled his tennis ball out, placing it down gently in front of it. "George can play with it, you know, when he gets to the better place. He can make some new friends with it. Lasts longer than flowers, so," Murphy's voice broke off into a whisper, no longer trusting his own voice to stay strong in front of the others. He stepped away from the grave and stood next to you, reaching out to hold your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze before he walked away, followed by a few of the others, leaving only you and Bellamy.

"It's my fault," Bellamy admitted quietly as he stood next to you. "I was his leader. I was meant to protect him but I didn't. He looked up to me, they all looked up to me to protect them and… and I let him down, I let them all down."

Bellamy sniffed, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve harshly, obviously hating himself for what happened. You shook your head and faced him, pulling him into a hug. "You couldn't have seen this coming, Bell. None of us could have," your voice was just as quiet as his was.

"I'm sorry," he cried quietly, only allowing himself to show you his emotions in private now that the others had left. "I'm so sorry." He held onto you tightly.

"It's going to be okay, Bell. He lived and died as a human. He never became a monster. It's going to be okay."

"He was just a kid."

"I know," you whispered, stroking his hair softly, no longer wanting him to feel the way he did.

"He was our kid…"

"I know."

14. STOCK

DAY: SEVENTY-FOUR

It had been thirteen days since George's small funeral, and since then, Lewis had stopped asking about him. No one ever uttered his name. But people did make it a habit of visiting his grave, gently touching the headstone before they left to go look for rations, as if it was a good luck ritual—so, in a way, he wasn't forgotten. But you knew that that mistake would never be made again. More of the building had been explored, and by 'more of the building', it meant that Fabian had accidentally found a door to a basement when he was messing around with things he wasn't meant to be touching. Mitch made a note to yell at him after it was explored. The basement was much larger than the workshop floor and the second floor. It was also set out like a maze, with different hallways and doors, branching off from the main room.

One area in the main room, that might have been underneath the Base of Operations, was sectioned off by a metal fence, one that you easily got through with two thin pieces of metal to pick the lock with. Whatever the building used to be, workshop or not, it was stocked with heavy artillery. There were about ten rows of shelves, five either side of a walkway space that was in the middle to walk to the other end of the room—not counting the shelves around the actual fence itself and the three other walls, bar one third of the wall at the other end of the room—that were stocked with guns and ammunition. Straight down the middle from the fence door, down towards the back wall, there were three large tables and as soon as you opened the door, you had no doubt that the Base of Operations would be moved down to that room. The rows looked like they hadn't been touched in years, which could either be a good thing or a bad thing. Mitch and Wyatt stayed behind to make an inventory of what was there.

Once you walked out of the artillery room and turned to your left, you could see two doors along the wall, along with two large windows that took up most of the wall from the floor to ceiling. The door, closest to the artillery room's metal-fenced wall, was a normal looking door, with a sign reading 'supplies' on the foggy window. The next door, that looked heavier and harder to open, was in the middle of two large windows that looked into a dark room. Bellamy had been standing by one of the windows, trying to look in, when you walked over to him. He glanced back at you and shrugged, pulling a face that suggested he had no idea what the room was.

"Want to check it out?" You asked, trying to look in through the window as well.

"After you," he replied, pulling the heavy door open to reveal a small glass chamber with another door just a meter in front of the first.

"It's like a quarantine room chamber," you commented.

"A what?"

"A small chamber or room that doctors or scientists would be in, that separated the quarantine room from the rest of the building, where they would be blasted with air or something to kill any germs or bacteria to keep them safe," you replied with a shrug, glancing back at him as he closed the first door. "You couldn't open both doors at the same time, for safety reasons."

There was a loud beep before a red light above both doors flashed on. Bellamy was about to say something before pressurised steam entered the chamber as blew into his face, causing him to cough. Once it stopped, the red lights turned green and the inner door buzzed, clicking open with a hiss as it opened slightly. You pushed the door open more, grunting at how heavy it was, and stepped into the dark room. As you did so, there was another sound of clinking before the overhead lights flickered on, lighting up the room. There were a few medical beds inside with carts pressed against some of the walls. Opposite the glass chamber, there was a large, two-door doorway with the words 'operating room' written on each door. Bellamy glanced over at you with an odd look on his face as he asked, "What the hell is this place?"

With a shrug, you picked at the blanket on one of the beds. "Looks like someone would have been ready for the apocalypse, too bad they never got the chance to use it."

"Too bad for them, good for us," Bellamy commented when he pulled a cart over to himself and opened one of the drawers to look inside. He closed the drawer and pushed the cart back, moving over to a cabinet that was close to one of the large windows. "Someone left the key on top of this thing." On either side of the walls of the small chamber, there were white cabinets and, what looked like, old defibrillators. "And they left medicine behind too."

"This seems way too good to be true."

"Wait, some of these have gone off. Some are just saline. This one is empty."

You nodded your head, checking to see if any of the equipment still worked. "That's more likely." You pressed a bunch of buttons. "I'm not a doctor so I don't know how this works. Cassian might, I'll ask when he gets back from the trip."

"Who knows, maybe this was just a warehouse used for army training simulations, you guys had them, right?"

"We had logistic supply specialists, but they were more secure than these places, and the simulators that we used for real-life settings weren't like this, they might have been in the past, but it's twenty-one fifty-six now. My training was set for twenty-one fifty-four, two years ago, not the early twenty-first century," you replied as you walked over to stand beside him, looking into the cabinet with him.

"Maybe someone made their own?" Bellamy suggested with a shrug. "Granted, by a seemingly more paranoid person."

"Maybe…"

Outside of the room, Murphy knocked on the window and held up a piece of paper that he wrote on: 'FOUND MEDICINE AND BLANKETS. LLOYD FOUND FOOD.'

"Great," you spoke while holding your thumbs up at him. He smiled back and walked away. "I suppose this is as far north as we're going to get."

"Guards haven't found any Z's around. Snow is starting to settle since it started four days ago." Bellamy moved away from the cabinet and sighed. "Looks like this is our home now."

You frowned. "Should have been George's too."

Bellamy smiled weakly and moved over to you, pulling you into a hug. "I know."

"Maybe we should help out the others and check out the rest of this floor. Cassian and some others can check the rest of this room out."

"Yeah." He nodded and stepped away from you, opening the door to the glass chamber. He had his eyes already closed when he walked in as soon as he closed the door and you laughed, looking down at your shoes when the steam started. The outer door opened and the two of you walked out. "I hate that."

"It's your fault you're a giant," you told him before walking over to where Murphy had gone off to.

"No, it's not!" Bellamy argued back, moving on to find Lloyd.

15. WITHOUT THINKING

DAY: SEVENTY- SEVEN

Once the basement was fully checked out, things began to fall in an organised schedule. The Base of Operations moved down into the basement and the layout of the front of the main floor was changed. Instead of an empty room, there were tables and some chairs set out for meals. Where the main door was, there were tall, heavy metal frameworks that barricaded the door for safety. Some people had moved down to the basement, setting up makeshift walls for privacy, which meant that the top floor had more space. For the first time in a long time, the merger had had an actual meal—which wasn't going to be a very common thing as everyone still had to ration, but at least it was something. When you walked up the stairs, towards the wall that had a small balcony outside, you could see Murphy standing outside with his gun held in his hands tightly. He had been on watch for a while, so you were going to tag him out and let him get some food and some rest. Some of the cold air from the outside blew into the warehouse as you opened the door and placed your hand on Murphy's shoulder. He turned around, and as he did, you could see that he had been on watch with Bellamy.

"Tag out, Murph," you told him, motioning your head inside.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, get some rest."

"Will do." He nodded, stepping around you to head inside.

When the door closed behind him, you looked over at Bellamy and smiled lightly. "You should tag out too. I've got this."

"You sure?" He raised an eyebrow at you. "'Cause I can stay out if you need me to… or, you know, if you want me to. It hasn't been a problem before."

"You mean yesterday when you almost fell asleep?"

Bellamy looked away from you and cleared his throat. "I didn't."

"Tag out, Bell. If I need a buddy, I'll get Wyatt."

"Okay, be on the lookout. Goodnight," Bellamy responded with some reluctance, looking half asleep already. He loosened his grip on his gun and quickly leaned down to kiss you before he stood back up straighter and walked inside, clearly not registering what he had just done. The door to the balcony closed behind him, and all you could do was stand frozen in your spot. His lips had been slightly cold from him being outside for so long, and they seemed to leave behind a lingering feeling of still being on yours. Slowly, your right hand lifted up to touch your lips, barely grazing them, as if not wanting to lose the feeling of him. After realising that that was what you were doing, you quickly dropped your hand from your lips and instead, gripped your own gun, ready to use if necessary. There was no way in hell that the kiss meant anything, it was a simple mistake. Why the hell would it be so important to you if you remembered what Bellamy's lips felt like? You thought vaguely to yourself, shoving all other thoughts away, shaking your head as you tried to focus.

16. WON'T DO IT AGAIN

DAY: SEVENTY-EIGHT

Bellamy didn't act any different to how he usually did, despite the kiss the night before, which meant that you had tried doing the same. But that wasn't an easy thing to do when all you could think about was the kiss—albeit a brief one. You went looking for him, and found him in the Base of Operations, alone, sitting by one of the tables at the back, cleaning his weapon. Bellamy turned his head when he heard the door open and smiled lightly when he saw you appear from the walkway. Once you were in his sight, he turned back to face his gun, taking it apart to clean properly before he began to put some parts back together again. You could feel your chest tighten, not entirely sure how you should phrase what you had to say, or how to even start saying what it was that you had to say, but, thankfully, Bellamy spoke first, clearly confused as to why you were just staring at him.

"You need something?"

"No… Yeah. Yeah, I need to ask you about something, about last night."

"What about last night?"

"You don't remember?"

"Remember what? I have no idea what you're talking about." Bellamy stopped what he was doing when he finished putting his gun back together and turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow. When you didn't say anything, but, instead, continued to stare at him, it suddenly clicked. Bellamy's eyes widened and he stood up, looking down at you. "Crap," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't really thinking about what I was doing yesterday, it just seemed like something I should do, because of, you know, how close we've been getting, and the fact that we're basically the parents to some of the group—"

"It-It's fine, Bellamy. I just wanted to ask what it was about, that's all."

"Again, I'm sorry. I, uh, I won't do it again," he told you, watching as you opened your mouth quickly to say something, but you closed it again. Bellamy tilted his head slightly and seemed to catch on. He smirked and corrected himself, "Unless, of course, you want me to do it again. Do you?" Once more, he watched you say nothing and he laughed lightly to himself, looking just over your head as he processed it all. "Okay then," he finally spoke and picked up his gun, tucking it into the waistband of his trousers before he walked out of the base, leaving you to stare at the table.

17. CATCHING ON

DAY: EIGHTY-SIX

While you had been in the Base of Operations to see if there was anything in the rations inventory that needed stocking up, which would call for a small rations trip, Murphy had been keeping you company. There were two lists set out on the table: one was a list that kept track of how much of a ration there already was, while another was for any rations that needed to be collected from the trip. So far, nothing had been written down, and Murphy was getting slightly bored.

"What is it, Murphy?" You asked, not looking away from the inventory list.

"Nothing. Why would you ask that?"

"Because you keep staring at me and looking away with a huff. If you want to ask me something then ask."

"What happened between you and Bellamy?"

Looking away from the list finally, you raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he can't stop looking at you. I mean, I know he used to look at you a lot before, but now it just seems to be happening all the time. Not to mention the fact he seems to be more distracted. Mitch had been talking to him the other day but couldn't seem to keep Bellamy's attention on himself, in the end, he just had to walk away and ask Wyatt. It's been happening for eight days now."

You could feel a heat rush to your face as you stuttered a reply, "Oh, well, I, uh, I don't—"

Murphy seemed to catch on and he let out a laugh. "Are you kidding me? Great, now you're going to spend all your time with him and I'm going to be left hanging out with Fabian," he joked. "Despite the fact that I don't like Bellamy, I'm happy for the two of you… I think."

"Thanks?"

"I guess my job here is done."

"But you didn't do anything," you argued back before watching him shrug.

"Mmm, that you know of."

18. ASKING

DAY: ONE HUNDRED

Two weeks had passed, and Murphy only complained for the first four days since he had found out—which felt like forty. You were back in the basement, but you were in the supply closet, looking for some plasters since Lewis had fallen over and cut his knee. The door had opened and you saw Bellamy step inside, quickly closing the door behind himself.

"I was looking for you," he commented as he stepped closer.

"Why? What's wrong? Is everything okay?" You asked, worriedly.

Bellamy shook his head and quickly took hold of your arm as you tried making your way around him to leave the supply closet, to check up on everyone and make sure everything was okay. As you turned to face him, to ask what he was doing, he pressed his lips against yours, placing his hands on your hips to keep you from moving. When he slowly pulled away from you, he smiled lightly and spoke in a quiet voice, "I wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

"If you're my girlfriend now? You know, because we haven't actually made it official… I'm not entirely sure what we are."

Looking down with a smile as you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, you looked back up and replied, "Well, you haven't actually asked me yet."

Bellamy grinned and nodded back. "Will you be my girlfriend, then?"

"Yes," you answered, placing your hands on his cheeks to pull him back into a kiss.

#bellamy blake #The 100 #bellamy blake au #the 100 au #au

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girlbookwrm · 6 years

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i DO recommend these fics, but this ISN’T actually a rec list

a while ago i did a meta about Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier and Hydra and the headcanons I put in The Terror of Knowing, and I mentioned that I wanted to compile a long-ass list of fics that inspired The Hundred Year Playlist and ppl (hi @conlatio and @marveluc) asked about it SO HERE, AT LONG FUCKING LAST, IT IS.

Fanfiction, like every other art form that has ever existed in the history of ever, is all about synthesis: combining pre-existing elements to make something new. It’s the making something new thing that’s exciting. (If you’re not making something new with your found material, that’s called plaigiarism and it’s distinctly uncool.)

When I was in college and grad school, if we used material from other scholars to make a new idea, we made sure to include a bibliography.

Now this is fic, so like. Everyone knows that we’re using found material. We put the fandom in the tags and everything. But there’s a lot of unseen inspiration, because it’s harder to tag all the fics and metas you read that gave you ideas and inspiration along the way.

I’m... making an attempt.

These are some, SOME of the fics that inspired the headcanons and characterizations and whatnot that then got incorporated into THYP. I’ve been reading MCU fic since 2014 (possibly earlier) and I didn’t even start thinking about THYP until 2017, so there’s probably a lot of stuff that went into my subconscious that I’ve forgotten about. I’m @ing the authors and sources when I know them, but if any of yall want me to like, un-@you (is that a thing??) or if any of you know of authors who have tumblrs that I DIDN’T @ but should have, pls let me knoooowwww

A (Probably Incomplete, but at least Attempted) Fanfic Bibliography for The Hundred Year Playlist

by Seriously I Don’t Have More Important Things To Do? Astonishing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS IN THE FICS THEMSELVES. THYP may be rated T for Teen (and even that I debate about tbh, given all the swears and violence) but most of these fics are very emphatically not. some of them will probably squick you out, some of them might be triggering, so take care of yourselves.

I’ve divided the list into sections by the story they inspired, but all of these stories inspired all the parts of THYP, this is a very very very rough categorization. Think of it as my fanfic n headcanon spice rack. some stories are going to have more or less of one spice or another.

Dreamers With Empty Hands

All the Angels and the Saints by @cesperanza

"You're a brutal person, you know that? You're always rummaging through my guts with your bare hands!" and then Bucky turned away, his long, muscled back curving as he sat on the edge of the bed, hunched and struggling for breath. Steve wanted to draw him, and he also wanted to blot the image from his memory: this picture of Bucky in despair.

Speranza’s Socialist Steve is deeply flawed in a way that people don’t usually write him and i love it so much??? He’s angry, and egotistical, and righteous in a way that’s hard on the people around him and I was like YESGOOD MORE PLS. It’s also a masterful example of how to write a story that’s ostensibly Steve-POV but still manages to make Bucky not only a main player, but a driving force. It’s about Steve, on the surface, sure. But it’s also about Bucky, because Steve is about Bucky and I just *clenches fist* love it.

cascades.

This fic. THIS FIC. Hngh. Okay so this fic is good on so many levels, but for THYP, the takeaway was me very gently lifting the Bucky-Steve-Barnes Family dynamic and then adding more swears to get to my take on the Bucky-Steve-Barnes Family Dynamic. Namely:

“Steve was a bit of a Barnes, too, wasn’t he,” she says.

“He was ours,” says Rebecca, shrugging. “We were his.”

i crie???

More Man Than You

“You’re very pretty,” she said, and Steve tensed up.

“I’m not a fairy.”

“No, you’re not, are you?”

this fic has a study guide. and that’s literally all I feel I need to say about it. It’s an exploration of queer culture and masculinity in the 30s and 40s, thinly veiled as stucky fanfiction. (It’s also pretty brutal so I’ll reiterate that you need to heed the goddamn warnings)

Also, lest yall think I came up with Billy Thompson in a vacuum, I didn’t. In this fic, there’s a violent mob runner called Duke, and Steve comes up with a plan to take him down, and Bucky makes sure that there’s a Different plan that Steve doesn’t know about. It’s all executed a little differently in this fic, but the idea lodged in my brain and got reused in THYP, and kind of became a central theme.

Good Morning Heartache, What’s New?

The Night War by @praximeter

IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE. This is... honestly, just one of the finest pieces of fiction i just

HNNNNGH

I don’t know that I can point to any specific part of this fic and say “this gave me that idea” it was more the... the feel of it. The way the Normandy invasion is written and the way the trauma is handled and the way Steve is just slightly to the left of being a real soldier and especially this:

He asked me with a smile on his face what goes through my mind when I line up my shot—God and country? Pearl Harbor? Uncle Sam? —and I stared at him struck dumb from the question so long that I think he thought I was just plain stupid. The fact is that it is none of those things—not even close. It is sick, numb fear and careful, barely breathing so that I don’t miss. I must never miss. And then when I shoot, an awful thought curls up from my trigger finger to my heart “how many mothers must be praying I will miss?”

The Thirteen Letters

oh you didn’t really think that Not Easily Conquered wasn’t going to be on this list, didja? OF COURSE IT’S ON THE LIST. But possibly not for the reason you might think. That fic is legen-fucking-dary of course, and the scene where Steve gets stabbed was obviously very inspirational for that bit in GMHWN where Steve gets shot in the thigh, but the scene that really got teeth into my brain and Would Not Let Go was the one where the Howlies meet the Winged Victory of Samothrace and

Bucky knows the truth now. It is a deep and insurmountable truth. She has no face. Like the operative whose head he beat in, like the boy who he killed one month into active duty, even like Bucky himself, Nike is faceless. Bucky feels unprepared, or like he should have brought an offering.

Beside him Steve quakes before the oldest and the only god.

look my fixation with statues didn’t come from nowhere is what i’m saying ok

Sincerely, Your Pal

This fic haunts me because i hate the ending. not because it’s not good (It IS good) or because it’s not the right ending for the story (it IS the right ending for the story) but just because i h a t e i t. I just like happy endings is all, and resolutions, and this fic is why THYP will have a happy ending.

But also, I really liked the way this fic dealt with Bucky in Basic and lines like this really caught in my brain:

And of course I want to kill some Nazis I guess but not because they’re people. Not because I actually want people to die because I don’t.

And that sentiment definitely fed into how I write Bucky especially.

The Terror of Knowing

there must have been a moment by @redstarwhitestar (magdaliny’s marvel sideblog)

Listen, I’ve been trying to make sure that there’s a good spread of writers on this list but magdaliny is the exception. Magdaliny is the exception for a lot of things and there must have been a moment when we could have said no is always the first fic I think of when I think of a fic about Bucky’s time as the Soldier. Which is ironic, because it’s very much about his time after that, but that first chapter made uhhhhhhhhhhh an impression.

The fractured nature of the narrative, the way that the reader can piece together a coherent timeline but the main character can’t... that was very influential on TTOK. example:

“Kill him,” the officer says.

The subject says: “Why?”

☙

“Kill him,” the officer says.

The subject makes a mess.

☙

“Kill him cleanly,” the officer says. “Good! Good lad.”

I’ll build a house inside of you

Another magdaliny G I F T, an AU where Nat is much younger and Bucky is her dad, and if you think that didn’t affect the way I write Bucky and Nat’s relationship in THYP, then you are dreaming.

Past the praises of the handlers, above the hot wet smell of cordite and blood, Natalia can hear crashing and shouting down the hall.

“—goddamn animals, they're little girls, they're just kids, you fucking—”

Her father screams in English, in Mandarin, in Russian, and then he just screams.

I know that’s a super sad excerpt but listen and hear me when I say this fic is actually really good and wholesome and it’s got A+++ OCs and All The Widows and it’s just really good ok

Memory

Bucky is hard AF to write and very few people write him half so well as magdaliny but one of those people is emilyenrose and this fic is M A S T E R F U L. Bittersweet and achingly perfect. It contains this beautiful moment that really stuck with me, where Steve is comparing the post WS “James” to the Pre War “Bucky” and realizes...

He truly hadn't known James all that well. James hadn't let him. Hadn't wanted him to. Hadn't wanted anyone near him, ever—

—the way Bucky went, when he was miserable, when he was angry...

and that, to me, was kind of key when I went on to write the Soldier, because the Soldier IS Bucky, even when he isn’t.

Fool For Sacrifice

Dona Nobis Pacem

THIS GODDAMN FIC came to me outta FUCKING NOWHERE, I’d already written the first draft for FFS, I’d already started posting it, for crying out loud. And then all of a sudden I stumble upon THIS and i just

It’s already fading, just hours after the skirmish. And the wounds Sam stitched will heal without a mark. And the welts on Steve’s chest will disappear. Like all of it never happened.

Fuck the serum. He keeps thinking it, saying it. Maybe if there were some goddamn scars, it’d be easier to process the damage.

This fic is heavy af, it’s like the 65k word version of That Chapter in FFS Where Steve Hits Rock Bottom. This was the fic I read when I was ramping myself up to tackle That Moment

three white horses

This is the other fic I read to ramp up for That Scene, and I think that probably shows in the way I wrote it. It is also is a Strong Contender for the title of Heavyweight Fic That Convinced Me Buck Is Jewish. Honestly I cannot praise this fic enough.

I think the thing that stuck hardest about the Steve in three white horses is the way he feels ghostly himself, like he’s only drifting through the present, and somehow most of his living happens in the past. It’s very beautifully done, and very subtly done, and it’s my go to fic if I am in Dire Need of a Good Clean Crie.

It’s getting an extra long excerpt because This Is My List And Neither God Nor Man Can Stop Me.

Steve's fingers touch metal when he reaches into the second-to-last box, and he feels the blood drain out of his face even before he's looked down. He knows the feel of it too well. He'd know it blind, a hundred years from now. It's Bucky's not-a-medal.

It'd been Bucky's grandfather's, or maybe his great-grandfather's, made of the kind of sterling silver that tarnishes if you look at it funny, so Bucky had always been polishing it; he'd traded cigarettes to the mess staff for baking soda and vinegar, during the war, but the thing was still soot-black half the time, like it is now. It'd been a fool's errand, wearing a thing like that in Axis territory, but Bucky'd worn it on his chain like the rest of the guys wore their Christophers and Michaels, and HYDRA'd ignored it. It was a subtle thing, though: nothing like wearing a Magen David, or the implacable H on Bucky's tags, just a thin slice of metal with a stylized branch and an oblique squiggle Steve only knows is the Hebrew word for life because Bucky told him so.

Bucky'd had a curious mix of reverence and irreverence about it, the same mixture that seemed to colour the whole of his religious life. He'd teased Steve sometimes, saying, “No, wait, you gotta kiss it before you enter the building, you schmuck, what are you, some kinda heathen?” with his legs around Steve's waist. Bucky hadn't complained when Steve had carried on with an inch of silver between his teeth, but Steve had offhandedly called it Bucky's good luck charm once, and Bucky'd blown up; it's not a superstition, he said, it's not a fucking amulet. He'd apologized later, and he'd explained, and said it was a touchy subject, just ingrained. Jews weren't supposed to believe in luck. Bucky'd thought maybe it was the opposite: maybe luck didn't believe in Jews.

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches

AH YES, THE FIC THAT TAUGHT ME ABOUT LIL AUDREY JOKES. SIPPY CUPS OF SUPERBOOZE! A ROBOT CALLED SHITCAN!! WHAT MORE COULD YOU NEED IN A FIC??? I really like the way it addresses Steve being in the future is all

This one could probably also fall into the list of fics that inspired DWEH, in part because of This, which stuck with me Hard and heavily influenced the opening:

“...You ever have scarlet fever?"

Sam shakes his head.

"It starts in your throat, like an itch, and as your fever starts to climb, your tongue swells up and turns white and that's when they know, really, even before the rash, that it's scarlet fever. You can't swallow, it hurts so much. You're freezing and your joints ache and your fever keeps spiking and you start to hallucinate. I, uh, I thought things were crawling on me and there were voices that I didn't recognize whispering things that didn't make any sense. My mom had to fight me just to get me to drink broth, but I threw it up most of the time, anyway. Then I got pneumonia from being so worn down from the scarlet fever and I was so lucky, Sam. Nobody seems to understand how I lucky I was to make it through. Talking to people today, to make them understand I'd have to tell them I survived bird flu only to fall sick with Ebola."

listen. For reasons I can’t fully explain, I really wanted to read that happening so i wrote it, and this is what being a writer is All About.

Actually, on a second thought, I might be able to explain it: it’s because an experience like that is Capital F Formative, and I really wanted to explore how there’s a tiny sick kid rattling around inside Captain Beefcake’s souped up bod.

(And an additional shoutout to Steve Rogers’ American Captain, a webcomic that now exists only in the Wayback Machine, but which was L O V E L Y and I sincerely hope that the artist knows that)

No Hope for the Weary

Strays

This fic? is so fluffy?? Like literally so fluffy. But this fic (and, obviously, Infinite Coffee) were very much behind the inclusion of the God Damn Starbucks, and also the source of a lot of my headcanons about Barnes & Rogers: Secret Millennials. For Example: Bucky’s Notes on How To Be A Millennial:

- Lots of coffee. Travel mugs or paper cups from Starbucks place. Often looks guilty for drinking, obv derive pleasure from doing so. Unknown as to why. Investigate further? Why is there one every two blocks if no one wants it there?

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail

This is another fandom classic that needs very little introduction. A+ characterization, A+ OCs, Utterly Charming from start to finish, and the originator of a very distinct way of talking that got very strongly coded in my brain as Winter Soldier Bucky.

He passes within 4 m of Barnes on his way back to his building. The mission imperative achieves a Doppler effect.

contactContactCONTACTContactcontact

Aw.

If They Haven’t Learned Your Name by @silentwalrus1

If I had to point to one (1) fic and say “Blame This Fic for THYP” it would be this one: the Fic that my roommate and The Gal Pal know as “The One With the USS Motherfucker.” This might seem like an odd statement, because if you’ve read them both, I don’t think you’d necessarily put them in the same class. silentwalrus is a genius of hilarity and THYP is a big pile of The Sads. ITHLYN is delightfully unassuming and I’m sometimes embarrassed by how pretentious THYP ended up being.

I would technically put this under the list of fics that heavily influenced NHFTW on account of the way it portrays Bucky going by gradual degrees from murderbot to mostly human person, but listen I could never write Cryptid!Bucky the way Silentwalrus has. It’s magnificent. And TBH the level of Intensity in ITHLYN’s Steve has is something I aspire to, and the Sam Characterization is On Point, and both those things influenced FFS, 112%. Nat’s Chaotic Slav Energy in this fic is OFF THE GODDAMN CHARTS and I LOVE IT. Every single side character, down to the spaceship is given the kind of care, attention, and characterization that just... it cannot be beat, my dudes.

16/10 highest recommendation. I could not possibly pick a single paragraph from this behemoth but uhhhhh

Two minutes in there’s a grunt and a slippery, gritty noise somewhere to her left, and then the Soldier barrels past at breakneck speed, vanishing down another tunnel. A second later Steve careens around the corner, bounces off the opposite wall and crashes away after him, so fast he’s nearly a blur. Natasha’s brain, entirely of its own accord, provides her with the utterly unhelpful accompaniment of a Yakety Sax soundtrack.

that’s it. that’s the fic.

Also, this fic is Stoutly To Blame for the playlist aspect of the hundred year playlist? Silentwalrus really got me good with Grounds for Divorce by Elbow, one of my all time favorite songs, which was then paired with one of my all time favorite chapters. By the time Caravan Palace’s Lone Digger made an appearance, I was sunk. This fic introduced me to Lyube, and gave me a new appreciation(?) for dubstep. So many of the songs ITHLYN used ended up in my Very Long Stucky Playlist, though I think the only one that then went on to become part of the Hundred Year Playlist: Upside Down and Inside Out by OK GO.

And Finally, the Coup De What The Fuck Ever:

Ain’t No Grave by @spitandvinegar

yet another fandom classic... I wasn’t sure where to put this fic, but I couldn’t NOT include it in the list. Spitandvinegar’s Steve is charming and so? Sweet? and the ANG Bucky is a delightful foulmouthed mess of a person, and the Sam/Claire pairing is something I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED, BUT I VERY MUCH NEEDED IT and I don’t know that I can point to a single thing and be like: Ah Yes, This Bit, but this is definitely one of my faves:

Imagine you live in this country, right? And there's a brutal war, and you witness and maybe participate in a horrific amount of violence, and you lose absolutely everyone you care about. Then you end up in this other country, where the culture and ways of doing things are completely foreign to you, and random assholes make fun of you for how you dress and act and talk while you're still coming to grips with the fact that everyone you love is gone and you can never go home again. Meanwhile, everyone around you is like "smile, motherfucker, you're in the Land of Plenty now, where there's a Starbucks on every corner and 500 channels on TV. You should be grateful! Why aren't you acting more grateful?" So you have to pretend to be grateful while you're dying inside. Sound like an traumatized, orphaned refugee? Also sounds like Steve fucking Rogers, Captain Goddamn America. Except that most refugees were part of a community of other people who were going through the same thing. Steve is all alone, the last damn unicorn, if the last unicorn had horrible screaming nightmares about the time when it helped to liberate Buchenwald.

Usually this explanation yields a "huh." People don't want Sad Refugee Steve: they want Captain America, Indestructible Defender of Freedom. But that doesn't mean that Sam isn't right, because he is right, goddamnit. So yeah, Sam's a little protective of Steve. And if the last unicorn finds out that its best damn unicorn friend in the whole world is actually alive, then damn straight, Sam's heading out with a tranq gun and bringing that damn unicorn in and starting a goddamn unicorn wildlife refuge in his backyard. Or something like that: at a certain point the metaphor kind of gets away from him.

Til The End of the Timeline

I’ve recced this so many times you’ve probably all gotten sick of hearing about it, but it’s an invaluable goddamn resource and you should all check it out.

A Shit Ton of Metas and Blogs, some of which are tagged with THYP Research but especially @steve-rogers-new-york and @hansbekhart‘s How To Brooklyn and @historicallyaccuratesteve

and last but certainly not least

LITERALLY EVERYTHING @quietnighty READS HOLY SHIT

If you’re looking for a common thread through all the above recs, it’s that almost all of them have podfics, and the vast majority of those podfics are by Quietnight. I am, and always have been, an audio learner. I read my writing aloud when I’m editing, I listen to audiobooks when I’m commuting, and when I’m cleaning, and when I’m playing computer games, because I like stories, and I especially like listening to stories. Quietnight’s podfics are Of The Highest Quality, and her taste in fic is Impeccable.

hooooly shit this post is long wow okay. I can’t promise I won’t add more to this later, but I’m leaving it for now because goddamn. it’s as complete as I can make it at this time. I’ve added a “THYP Fanfic Bibliography” tag in my bookmarks, and incidentally I really need to make sure I’ve gone through and kudosed all of these because goddamn.

#i don't know how to tag this #thyp research #?#fic rec #??#stucky fic rec #???

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