#ending 1 warms my heart (except for like. the last frames. i just ignore those)

[a-heart-noble-and-bright]

[ID: A digital piece of fanart showing William, Louis and Albert from Yuukoku no Moriarty as children. They're drawn from the waist up in a chibi style. There's yellow, blue and pink paint all over their skin and clothes. William is looking down at his paint-stained clothes with a surprised expression while Louis and Albert laugh merrily with paintbrushes and palettes in hands. Behind them are large yellow, blue and pink rectangles over a light gray background. End ID]

based on the first anime ending <3

[arvandus]

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY!  1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it.  Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught.  Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

 All of the above?

 All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire.  Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name.  The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

 Like his hands.  You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight.  They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand.  They were a thing to be feared and avoided.  But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like?  You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

 Or his lips.  They were always covered by his mask.  You never, ever saw him without it.  You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin.  Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

 It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive.  Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

 You bet that part of him was soft too.

 The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes.  They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes.  But they lacked the warmth of Heaven.  Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

 The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore.  Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.  

 He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own.  That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing.  Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization.  You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates.  No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

 First impressions were everything to Kai.  Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion.  As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again.  You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips.  After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster.  And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

 The message he sent was clear: adapt or die.  When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

 So, you adapted.  As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path.  The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

 And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad.  Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him.  But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either.  Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often.  But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it.  And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth.  But it was just a job, right?  You didn’t need warmth.

 So why did you feel so dissatisfied?  Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

 The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

 You craved his attention.  It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care.  To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction.  The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

 As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust.  They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were.  It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.”  You wanted him.  At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse.  After all, this was Overhaul.  Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain.  It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.  

 You began to act different in front of him.  Nothing too obvious, of course.  After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all.  All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

 So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance.  You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes.  Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings.  In the end though, it made no difference.  There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

 Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside.  It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening.  Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone.  No papers remained on his desk.  His gloves and plague mask were gone.  With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

 Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood.  It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints.  You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

 You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution.  No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

 You should have just left it at that.  But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

 That should have been your first clue.

 But your mental alarms never sounded.  Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

 You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right?  Left for the evening.  What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit?  With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

 That should have been your second clue.

 But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment.  You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes.  It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction.  If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

 Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot.  Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded.  What if those were his fingers?  The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more.  You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it.  Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

 You shouldn’t be doing this.  Not here of all places.  But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations.  After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it.  And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him.  Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

 And dear God, did you need it.  You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties.  Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

 What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  He was gone, right?  And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left.  He’d be none the wiser.

 Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get.  You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

 So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in.  A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart.  In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill.  It felt so fucking good.  The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat.  You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

 “Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

 “What do you think you’re doing?”

 The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

 There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

 Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic.  You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

 FUCK. Of course.  You forgot to check outside.  He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

 Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  You hadn’t heard him enter.  How long had he been standing there??

 “I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask.  His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

 Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

 “I’m sorry.  I’m so so sorry.”

 “I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

 “I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

 “Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

 You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

 “I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

 You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing.  His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

 “Look at you...” he grumbled.  “Disgusting.”

 His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression.  His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

 He was going to kill you.  You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less.  But you weren’t ready for it.  You didn’t want to die.

 You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare.  “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

 “Overhaul.”

 “Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me.  I meant no disrespect.”

 “No disrespect?” he sneered.  “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

 His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him.  You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence.  He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.  

 “Clean it up.”

 With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.  

 You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather.  Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame.  His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you.  It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge.  He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

 Not that you’d try to.  You knew better.

 When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.  

 It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life.  But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “I... I was just...” you stammered.

 “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

 You swallowed and set down the trashcan.  He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you.  Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head.  You stopped breathing.

 There was something... electric in the air.  You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps.  His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face.  Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely.  Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released.  After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

 Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes.  The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra.  Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier.  You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

 And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

 A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

 Hope.

 Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in.  “Follow me.”

 Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair.  Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

 “Sit.”

 Confusion.

 “W-What??” you stuttered.

 “I said sit.” He replied.

 You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt.  You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you.  His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

 “Continue.” He stated.

 “What? What do you mean?” you asked.

 His eyes stared at you knowingly.  “You didn’t get to cum, did you?”  You shook your head, stunned at his words.  “Continue.” He repeated.

 “Right here?”

 “Where else?  It was good enough for you earlier.”  His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed.  “Continue.”

 Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction.  So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

 With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access.  Chisaki didn’t look down.  Not right away, at least.  Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent.  With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you.  It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening.  You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.  

 Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to.  You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers.  It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened.  Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat.  Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him.  You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel.  You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him.  Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build.  It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat.  But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least.  You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

 With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal.  Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge.  You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat.   Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

 You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths.  Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum.  You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit.  The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

 You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure.  Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

 You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants.  Was he trying to hide it?  Because he was failing.  Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

 “Again.” He ordered.

 Your eyes bulged.  “Again?”

 He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently.  You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight.  He wanted you to do it again?

 At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired.  But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you.  No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing.  It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare.  Do it again and see what happens.

 Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

 Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb.  Except for your clit.  That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core.  With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips.  It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it.  Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki.  Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

 It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length.  You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly.  It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.  

 You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you.  With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith.  You wanted it.  You wanted to cum so badly.  But you wanted to see him even more.  So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts.  You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered.  With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips.  The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

 It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

 You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down.  You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

 It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum.  Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

 You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

 “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.  

 He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

 “Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

 You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes.  Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter.  He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand.  Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him.  You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask.  Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you.  It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

 It was the push your sensitive body needed.  You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first.  Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure.  With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

 You were given no respite.  As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

 “Again.”

 Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity.  You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation.  It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

 Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out.  “B-But... I can’t....”

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly.  He was smirking at you. Cruelly.  

 “You can, and you will.” He said.  A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings.  “Again.” He repeated.

 Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes.  You stared at the exposed skin in awe.  It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed.  Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine.  Maybe… maybe if you were good…

 You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit.  Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily.  Watching him masturbate to you was delicious.  He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light.  You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger?  Maybe both?

 You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand.  The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to.  It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

 But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

 He continued his strokes, slow and easy.  Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him.  His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need.  It was happening... he was going to cum...

 But he never did.  Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

 Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

 Maybe he was waiting for you.  Or maybe he had his own agenda.  But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

 The hypocrite.

 Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted.  But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.  

 It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation.  The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him.  You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

 “Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged.  Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours.  Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

 Chisaki froze mid-stroke.  “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

 “Please,” You begged.  “Don’t you want to?”

 His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before.  After all, what you were asking was no small order.  You knew how he felt about touch.  No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

 But that was why you begged. And pleaded.  And groveled.  Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

 “Please...” you whined one last time.  “I’ll do anything.  I need you, Kai...”

 Something about you using his given name did something.  His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck.  Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat.  You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie.  He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable.  He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence.  Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.  His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

 You waited.

 “Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

 Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you.  Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

 “So fucking filthy.” He breathed.  The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

 He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

 “...And needy.” He added.

 From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch.  But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about.  Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

 “I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself.  His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

 You were pathetic.  But you didn’t care.  You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you.  And if he wanted you to beg?  To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock?  You’d do that too.

 His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning.  A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

 Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first.  So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.”  He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

 You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous.  It made you want to cry.  You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

 But it never came.  And his hand never ventured further.  Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak.  Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words.  “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

 Chisaki tsked.  “You’re afraid.  Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

 His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

 “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

 Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk.  The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

 Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

 “Kai!” you protested.

 He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered.  “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

 The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before.  Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there.  But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade.  Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

 Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

 He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand.  His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

 He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow.  Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between.  And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast.  His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return.  You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft.  The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

 The temptation was too much.  He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust.  Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles.  With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting.  You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore.  You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

 It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls.  His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face.  It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic.  Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore.  But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

 Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth.  Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

 “Shut up.” He growled.

 You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him.  And it didn’t matter to you either.  You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast.  All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint.  That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

 “This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

 His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

 “So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.”  His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

 You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted.  It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock.  Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls.  It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

 The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep.  But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling.  Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up.  Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

 But he never did.  Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock.  You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state.  A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

 But he never did that either.  Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance.  Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes...  His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

 Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth.  It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected.  The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

 Whatever it was, it was short-lived.  He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips.  And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow.  No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

 You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his.  But you were quickly learning you couldn’t.  His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left.  And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?  

 The sun could never be controlled.

 And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

 Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

 “Again.”

[sirensmojo]

“KINDRED”, 1 - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Guns, Tommy & Reader being bitches

Summary: Tommy meets a librarian that he discovered to be the chief of an underground organisation. Needing man enough allies to dirty their hands in the battle against Oswald Mosley, he shakes hands with the devil. Feelings intertwine with business, a mix that leads to unalterable ends...

Word Count: 5k+

*London*

The man entered the library in a hurry, the door making a grinding sound as he paused for a second, his eyes wandered on the areas as if looking for something. 

Your face popped off the book lying on the table where you had been sitting for almost an hour now. 

Quickly enough, when you caught sight of the individual that had just entered your space, your head went down to the printed lines again as the tip of your fingers were scratching, up and down, the back of your neck. 

You heard footsteps navigating through the shelves to which you paid no mind. It’s only when you heard them walking towards your desk that you tuned your ears to the sound.

A shadow fell over the pages and the clearing of a throat resonated in the peaceful silence.

 You sighed at the interruption and looked up at the intruder. 

Your eyes encountered a not so tall man, wearing an elegant and costly-looking dark blue suit, adorned by a neat long coat. 

He remained silent as he opened his coat with one hand, searching his pockets for something. Your eyes stared at his hand as it came out with a cigarette between two fingertips, which you followed with your gaze to his mouth.

That’s when you finally saw his face and recognized him to be Tommy Shelby.

“Searching the political area” the blue-eyed man voiced, not a single look thrown your way. 

He was too occupied lightening his cig. 

You pointed, nonetheless, at the direction of the section he’d asked. You then, hassled back to your book, not giving him a second glance as you turned a page. 

As you did so, Tommy frowned, squinting his eyes. His focus fluttered from your face to the novel a couple times. 

Afterwards, he puffed on his cigarette and walked toward the politic’s shelves. 

(...)

Book in hand, shaking it proudly he reappeared in front of the desk.

“Found what you were looking for, eh?” You offered him a smile as if you hadn’t totally ignored him several minutes before. 

He chuckled to himself. “I’d like to take that for some hours”. 

“If it’s only for a couple hours...” You begin, pointing at the tables in the corner of the building, near the huge windows.

“you must do what you got to do there. Else, you must pay and keep it for at least three days before returning it” You muttered outright. 

Thomas scoffed, turning towards the tables and stared at them with contempt before he turned back at you. He shook his head in disbelief, his mouth opening as if to speak but he didn’t seem to be able to find his words. 

So, with a final frown, he gave up and went back to staring holes into your head. 

You basically just put Thomas Shelby back in his place.

Of course, he knew there were rules, but none of the librarians he has met before actually told them to him.

Too afraid to look a Shelby in the eyes, even more, to surrender them to some rules about borrowing a book. 

But here he was, in front of you that seems not to care what his last name was. 

You let go of your reading, turning it paper against the wood to keep your page. 

Fetching some papers out of the drawer, you began to fill a form with what he recognized to be his name, then as you got ready to write his address, you finally lifted your head and addressed him.

“Would you mind giving me your home location Mr Shelby?” You asked, eyes devoid of emotion.

“Are you going to come and fetch the book yourself if I don’t return it in time, aye?” He returned, tilting his head to the side.

Even if his voice wasn’t capable of wording it playfully, you knew he didn’t take the process seriously. You decided to ignore the peaky blinder and wrote down the address you were well aware of from the very start. 

The man clenched his jaw, watching you write down the address of his mansion as if you knew each other intimately. 

“I’ll do without your signature” You murmured utterly to yourself even though Tommy did hear it. 

“It’s 13 shillings.” You added, staring right at Thomas, not an ounce of fear in your expression. 

He just placed on the table the money he owed and walked away, letting himself turn back to peek at you. 

Some research will have to be done to uncover your identity. He had never until now seen you at the library, although it had been a meeting place for Ada and him multiple times as his sister works here as a counselor.

(...)

Back home, Thomas was met by Lizzie, a shoulder against the frame of the open door, her arms crossed on her chest.

“Pol’ is here, she says she wants to talk to you about Michael”. Her sweet voice contrasting her worried eyes. She was trying to read her husband’s expression.

He walked past her, greeting the maid that indicated to him the presence of guests she had guided to wait in his office. 

“Tommy!” Polly exclaimed, her eyes lit up at the sight of him. 

She had been on Tommy’s side since Michael’s return, but this meeting was leading him up to believe that perhaps, she had finally heard her son out and was here to convince him to do so as well.

Without sparing them a glance, he went behind the large desk and speak to them:

“I’m busy.” 

At the dismissal, Polly’s hopeful face fell.

“There are some things you might want to know”.

At the sound of this voice he had long ago hoped to never have to hear again, his shoulders tensed. Taking his coat off, the two individuals forward him could see the whitening of his tightened hands. Wanting to calm himself down, he lit a cigarette and sat.

After a few strained minutes of silence, during which the other occupants of the room could only stare as Tommy poured himself some whiskey and proceeded to drink it as if no one was there, he finally got sick of seeing their faces, eventuating in him breaking the silence.

“The American gentleman has decided he wants to speak, now.” 

He emphasizes the first words as if to provoke Michael, who knew it wasn’t a question but a statement. So the younger Gray clenches his jaw to remain silent.

“Where’s your wife, Michael?” 

He mockingly said, sipping on the liquor.

“Tommy,” Pol’ warned.

“What? It looks like they make a hell of a couple, ready to take on the world, my business even, eh?” The family leader continues to incite, with a merry tone.

“It’s not like you haven't had your day” Proudly spit his younger cousin, ignoring the staring battle between Tommy and his mother.

The eldest Shelby looked up at Polly’s son with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened up in his chair and grabbed a cigarette with two of his fingers that he pointed toward the man in front of him.

“See, Michael, you keep saying that you’re willing to take the head of the family business in America out of care for the family. But to me, it looks like you were always lurking at the back, waiting for the moment you’ll be able to take everything for you.” 

He was blankly staring at the younger Gray, waiting for an answer that never came.

Polly’s back stiffened, the insinuation of her son having schemed against Thomas making her unable to even make the slightest move.

She couldn’t blame Thomas for thinking that as it all made sense, but she wouldn’t... couldn’t think her son of being capable of such a thing.

Or at least, that, she wanted to believe.

(...)

Days later, Tommy met with a couple of people, from policemen to bureaucrats, whilst attending the usual business tasks, to learn more about you. 

He had to know if you were a potential risk to his family, after all, you knew his address, what if you communicated it to his enemies, or if you were an enemy?

Not that he thought you were, but something was off. He couldn’t quite yet put his finger on it, but he had a feeling, probably a gipsy thing, he thought to reassure himself. 

The primary reason he got the book was to better study the ascension of different politic’s sides. His actual main focus being to stop Mosley by any means, he needed more knowledge to be able to think of a strategy.

With Mosley, he just couldn’t afford defeat. At least not without giving it a good fight.

Nonetheless, while it began as a business matter, this book gave him an opportunity he would’ve never thought to exist.

(...)

Early in the morning, as he lit up his first cigarette, he heard two quiet knocks at the door. Tommy stood up in a hurry, almost running to the front door, a hand grabbing his gun as he uncocked the safety. 

Nobody knew about this house except the family, and it was far too early for a Shelby to come and visit.

The blue-eyed man took a peek through the window, before opening the door. Gun pointed toward the individual’s head, the tip of it centred right between the brows, Tommy exhaled. 

“I’ve been expecting that book for two days..” the figure paused, sliding a hand in their suit pocket to glance at their watch.“... and 5 hours exactly”.

One of their brows lifted at Shelby’s lack of reaction. Who other than you could it be?

Without a word, you entered the house, your heels echoing against the walls of the elegant mansion’s hall. You looked around as if to confirm that you indeed were inside the house of the famous and feared gangster.

“How about you put down the gun, eh.” You commanded, turning around to look him in the eyes as a snicker slipped through your painted lips. 

“Well, Y/F/N, what do you fucking want?”He was holding the gun steady, ready to shoot whenever, whatever.

“Huh, you researched me. That warms my heart” You mockingly let out, disdain in your voice. “I bet you have questions. So? Did my several years as a nurse at the war impress you, Mr Shelby, or perhaps my calling for illegal & criminal activities?”

You scoffed at yourself. By enunciating those things he probably knew already, you showed him you weren’t impressed he researched you.

“Anyway, all this fuss isn’t necessary.” You tried to convince him again, but this time, your hand went flat on the top of the gun still pointed towards you and pushed it down very softly, taking the blue-eyed man’s hand in yours.

At the touch of your skin, an electric current ran down his spine making Tommy step back. 

Your eyes flickered a quick instant, a curious gleam making them shine. He wondered if you too had felt it.

“Plus, I heard you have children? We wouldn’t want them to see their father holding a gun.” You simply put.

He let you pass him by and continue your walk out of the house, toward the garden.

Coming back to himself, Tommy realized he hadn’t blinked for a whole minute. He exhaled deeply and put back the gun in his shoulder holster. 

It was only when they reached the little table, that the peaky blinder allowed himself to take a closer look at the stranger sitting in front of him. 

Your suit was dark-blue, ornamented with stripes of lighter grey complimented by the various golden rings that adorned your fingers. 

You hair fell beautifully on your shoulders, framing your face. 

His eyes finally reached yours that were underlined by charcoal liner and your E/C iris were shamelessly staring into his heathen soul.

Tommy had heard of the English political party that shook traditions about women, norms and rights. And from the masculine way you were dressed up to the way you refused to fit women’s 20’s haircuts, he thought you might've been a member of the Women’s Social and Political Union. 

Once again it was his intuition talking to him. If he was right and that you were into politics, that means you could be useful in Mosley’s downfall. 

He had to figure out a way you two could get along. 

“What business do you have in Birmingham?” Tommy managed to word even though he is not used to be the one initiating talking.

“I was born here. But ‘am also the owner of the London library where you borrowed your book. And I came here to give the first warning.” You playfully returned, lighting up a cigarette. 

So you were the new owner of the library Ada mentioned when he questioned her. But it just couldn’t be it.

“What? Don’t you think there is enough criminal in here for me to join ‘em, Thomas?” You said as if knowing he didn’t believe you were here solely because of a library. You were reading his silence with a disconcerting facility and it started to get on Tom’s nerves.

“You’re not from here, War Service Record mentioned you were from Paris--”

“My father. I, myself am very much from Birmingham.” You snapped back without even letting the Shelbys head reach the end of his sentence.

Noticing the annoyance all over your face, he felt a sudden need for fresh air aching in his chest. He grabbed a cigarette and ignited it quickly. 

Your mysterious stare was still persistent, almost making the Shelby brother uncomfortable. 

“Is that all, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Call me Y/N. And yes, That’s all.” You got up, ready to leave.

“Then, Miss Y/F/N,” He emphasized your full name as if to put a distance between you two “the next time you step foot in my mansion without being invited to do so, it’ll be a bullet to the fucking head.”

You leant forward as your hands laid flat on the table. You were so close, he could feel your warm breath on his skin. And as you placed your lips to his ear:

“If you ever again point a gun at me, better aim right cause if you don’t, I’ll shoot back and I don’t miss, Tom” You patted his shoulder. 

The Peaky Blinder didn’t know what annoyed him the most, the words or the touch, although if being honest with himself, he would admit the touch wasn’t as annoying as he wanted to believe.

A torrent of thoughts overwhelmed him as he slowly processed the words you had murmured to him. It wasn’t a menace, it was worse than that, it was a promise.

“I’ll be looking forward to your visit, Mr Shelby.”

He stood up, but you were already far away, your coat flailing behind you.

(...)

On an evening, coming back from London, Tommy got home, walked through the hall, joined the dining room and looked at Lizzie that was already sitting at the table:

“Dinner will be without me tonight.” He said, putting on his béret.

“Where are you going?” She asked, but he didn’t respond, turning on his heels and walking outside. “You agreed on letting me in sometimes, Tommy.” She urged as she followed him.

“Well, Lizzie, I’m trying to make today a good day.” He coughed away anything his wife could want to object. 

He drove to the old yet refined London’s building. After he parked, he paused to look intently at the imposing glass doors. 

The building hadn’t always been this huge library. Actually, the last time he was here, it used to only occupy the first floor, but it seems the new owner had bigger plans. 

Now, the whole structure had been remodelled, bookshelves could be seen through the wide windows on all 3 floors, the fourth one had a soft light emitting from it and from where he was, the Shelby brother could see a shadow pacing back and forth.

Only five days had passed since you came to the manor and pressure Tommy with your fearless fierceness, and he could see the arrangement work was almost done. 

While workers were leaving the library, Tom was getting in and envied them as their headache would disappear as soon as they walked out, whereas Tommy’s appeared as soon as he walked in.

He somehow felt like talking to you would be worse than a full day of work.

He opened the heavy doors and as he was approaching the desk, noticed a golden plaque on the nearest wall:   

 Floor 1. Novels.

Floor 2. Science.

Floor 3. Politics.

Tommy paused and read the plaque a second time. 

He counted four floors, didn’t he?

Why would they omit the presence of a fourth one when it was clear someone was up there. The absence of its mention aroused his curiosity, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as a voice approached him.

“Hello, sir, this’ a library. The pub’s the other side o’ the street.” Said the woman with judgment underlining her strong accent.

Tommy looked at her, dismissing her insult by a cough, as he waved the object in his hand.

“Came to return it.” He placed the book on the table, the tip of his fingers patting its cover as the woman put on a fake smile.

“A name?” The voice resonated, its owner opening the drawer full of files.

“Shelby.” 

At the mention of the name, the desk woman raised her eyes to the man standing in front of her and blinked a couple times before glancing at the stairs against the furthest wall. “The fourth flo’, you’re expected.” She leaned toward Thomas murmuring as if telling a secret.

“Fourth floor?” He repeated to himself. So he was right, the top of this building was indeed occupied.

As he wondered who the mysterious shadow he saw earlier belonged to and what might wait for him there, his attention instinctively drifted to Miss forced-smile again. 

She was staring at him as if he owed her something, so he lifted a brow at her, waiting for her to speak.

“I’ll need a pound.” She simply put. 

“‘S’cuse me?”

“The book, Mr Shelby. It’s the penalty.”

He scoffed at the revelation, the woman staring at him until he placed the pound on her desk. She then started filling the returning paper without a second glance to the peaky blinder.

(...)

The fourth floor was a never-ending corridor with brown and cream patterns on the walls that led to an imposing wooden door. 

Apprehension seizing him, Tommy frowned. He wasn’t sure he could trust that fucking desk lady, but the adrenaline led him to knock anyway.

“It’s open.” Stated a distorted voice.

Tommy entered the room, stumbling on a vast sophisticated office.

Classical music could be heard in the background, variations of piano only. Golden framed paintings were hanging on the wooden decorated walls, matching the golden details of the little marble table on his right. 

It was encircled by two leather armchairs and an opulent lion paw sofa. 

On the counter against the opposite wall rested a collection of fancy glass-bottled alcohol and near it was a snifter cabinet.

Ahead of him was a large sculpted desk with an artistic lamp enlightening loads of papers. A desk nameplate indicated Tommy was in your office. His eyes lift to the familiar face. 

“Here you are,” You muttered, getting up from your chair, your heels making a muffled noise on the seemingly expensive carpet. 

A folder in one hand, a cigarette in the other, you passed by him, so close you briefly touched. Your bewitching perfume filled the man’s nostrils with fragrance as his gaze followed you going to the door to close it. 

“Whiskey? Irish, right?” You spoke, joining the counter and pouring two drinks.

For the first time since the blue-eyed man entered the room, you looked up to him. 

“Perhaps Mr Shelby lost his tongue?” You asked with curiosity. 

You looked surprised by Tommy’s lack of enthusiasm as if you were waiting for him to ripost when you cast the barb.

“Is being rude pre-required to work in this library?” He ignored your previous comment.

You frowned in what seemed to be confusion, but quickly smiled in understanding. “Oh, right, Ana. I take it she left quite an impression.”

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head at your ridiculous reaction.

“You do realize that she’s supposed to be welcoming, and not make you want to leave and never return, right?”

You laughed leaving Thomas aghast. “Ana’s not the desk lady. She was only here because I trusted her to send you my way, and she did.” You said with a satisfied smile on your face.

While Shelby was surprised at the first half of your sentence, curiosity took over at the second half. “So this is the first of your gangsters I’ve met, a woman.” 

You knew Tommy wasn’t the type to diminish women’s work according to what you read about him, you surmised it was more to gauge your reaction to him talking about your organisation, which you were fine with.

“All of ‘em, women.” You accentuated your words, mimicking disgust.

He let out a snort, but you kept on as if you hadn’t heard him.

“I bet if you tried to know her you would in fact, like Ana.”

Raising his eyebrows at your admittance, Tommy decided to drop the light talk and get to business.

Even though he was still quite taken aback by the settings of this meeting he hadn’t forgotten the thing he wanted from you. 

He knew you were “prosperous” according to his readings, but this office showed him the chosen adjective didn’t do justice to reality.

“I want to deal with Mosley, Miss Y/L/N. And I’d like to believe you’re here to do the same.” His grave tone filled the room.

“Call me Y/N,” your arm invited the man onto the sofa. 

You handed a cup to the peaky blinder that gladly took it before moving to him with your own and the folder that you dropped on the table while sitting. “here is a list of every man you need to keep an eye on in order to accomplish your plan safely.”

He looked over to you at the announcement of his plan. Of course, you were informed, of course, you weren’t only here for a library. 

He took the file and started to flip through the papers, his index patting on a specific name. He glanced you. 

“Michael Gray” He read out loud.

“You have to know Captain Swing from the occupied six counties and I had met a couple times. I found it funny how you ignored the fact your cousin, who had lost nearly $2 million in America, was serenely aboard the SS Monroe in Belfast dock, plotting with men that want you dead.  Some representatives from County Tyrone and Glasgow UVF--”

“She told me.” Tommy cut you as if he wanted to dismiss the call he had with Captain Swing.

You, aware of what he was trying to do, continued to remind him where his cousin’s betrayal began.

“They were talking ‘bout how they’d divided up the English racetracks after they’d blown away your legs.” 

You were intently looking at him, accentuating some words as if to show the urge for him to realize the gravity of the situation.

Tommy wasn’t waiting on a specific call that day, so he knew trouble was coming when the operator told him the call was from Belfast. 

But God, it was worse than anything that could be expected. 

A certain Captain Swing captured his cousin that was returning from America. She said he was dealing with some men that were Shelby’s enemies, talking about his downfall and the benefits of it. 

She offered him two options: Put a bullet in the head of Michael right away or send him “home”, to Birmingham.

Tom did choose the second one... after a long minute of thinking.

“And may I ask… why are you doing me this favour?”

The woman on the phone clicked her tongue before responding, 

“Because, Mr Shelby, we’ve been informed by people at the very highest level, that since your conversion to socialism, you’re now on the side of the angels. And angels can be useful to us.” 

The last thing the peaky blinder heard was the line disconnecting.

“People at the very highest level, eh. So it was you.” He chuckled to himself, getting up to face the windows. 

He placed a hand into his coat searching for something and as he did so, you placed your fingers on your gun that was still in your shoulder holster. 

Even if he didn’t show it, it was clear the news startled him, and you didn’t know what he would do next, you had to be ready.

“You spied on me.” He turned to you and you let go of your gun seeing he pulled out his cigarette case, an unreadable expression on both his face & tone.

As if he needed time to discuss internally with himself, he lit a cigarette and smoked half of it before exhaling deeply, rubbing a hand on his face. 

You waited patiently for the expression of the Shelby brother to tell you you could go on. Even if it wasn’t an easy task to understand or read Thomas Shelby, you were arrogant enough to think you succeeded at it.

“You did it too. You’re just not used to being searched the way you research others.” You managed to slide your hair from one shoulder to the other, to light a cig. 

“You get used to it.” You assured him, inhaling as much smoke as you could. 

“Listen, you don’t get the right to erase crucial information because it’s about a member of your family. He is a threat that needs to be dealt with, Thomas. I know you trust no one, even less me, you have no reason to, but I’m saying it anyway because I want you to understand that not every time you do something right, innocent people have to die.” 

As soon as he heard your last words, he turned to you, waiting for an answer to a question he hadn’t worded yet.

“Who’s going to die?” He muttered.

“We are to be partners, so I’ll give you an ounce of who I am: my father died at the beginning of the war, leading me to enter it. When I joined the nurses I wanted to die, just like him. He was all I ever had, I didn’t think I could be anything without him. You damn know war, so I’ll skip to what happened after: I came back. I’ve failed to die, but my profile caught the eye of a police officer. He saw I could use my head and logic to know my enemy’s strategy and predict their next move. So I worked for him nearly one year before I killed him.”

You totally ignored Thomas' question, hoping your monologue will keep Tom’s mind busy so he’d forget what you previously said, and it worked. 

Tommy’s face met with your piercing-eyes as you shrug.

“Corruption. Soon enough, the police department found a bounty killer in me.” You stop at Shelby’s scoff. He shook his head, brows raised as reaching for his alcohol. He then led his cup to his mouth and drank it in one go.

“Didn’t you find that?” Your high-pitched tone expressed your surprise.

“Nah.” He clicks his tongue. “So you’re a copper?”  You shook your head.

“I stayed in Paris, as I already had quite a reputation there. People respected me despite my gender, so I was able to do most things women are forbidden to do. On one hand, I was still a bounty killer with some girls, on the other hand, I’d started a counterfeit money’s enterprise. And given all of my options there, I opened a bar for women to debate and learn. It wasn’t easy as I wasn’t married, there was no man to “tame” me as high society people said, but I managed to buy a racetrack, and with a little bit of fighting, gave women the opportunity to bet. And even if I fought for the women’s cause, men liked my face along with what I represented... “ Thomas' stare got heavier as questions came to his mind at almost each of your sentences.

“I used their attraction towards me to get what I wanted. And ultimately, I entered politics.” You sipped on your drink.

“You forgot to mention you being a librarian, aren’t you, Y/N?” It was the first time he’d called you that, but it somehow felt natural. 

As you smirked looking away, he could tell you’d noticed how good your name sounded on his lips.

“It only helps for the public image. People like to ask questions about your income sources if you hadn’t noticed. And for people like us, it’s better to have sturdy explanations.” You served yourself another full cup of whiskey.

“Was it the chase of gangsters that made you like whiskey over gin, eh?” Tommy teased you.

“Are women solemnly allowed to drink gin, Mr Shelby?” You raised a brow at him, curiously waiting on his answer. 

“You were indeed a suffragette.” He firmly stated, nodding to himself.

“Bonne intuition *speaking french*(=good intuition). That’s good.” You were pleased. 

“I, when leaving Paris, was told to beware of you. ‘The bastard thinks’ were their exact words. Even out the borders, people know the peaky boys.” You gave a faint smile while Tommy chuckled, smoking his cig.

“We’re going to need it for this new war.”

“Need what?

“Instinct.” You got up, turning up the volume more. When back, you filled Tommy’s glass. You found the man looking through one of the windows, arms crossed in his back.

“Not so sure it works that way around here.” 

You joined him, handing him his cup. He stepped aside, putting a certain distance between you. You were faster than he to noticed.

“All the big cities work the same, Mr Shelby. I’ve been here before, once you know the flaws in one of ‘em, you know the flaw in ‘em all.” You assured him with confidence, stealing the man’s cigarette from his lips.

You stepped into his space.

“You’ve been here before, hm. And what part of your business does this library cover for?” The peaky blinder took his cup from your hand.

He stepped into your space.

“The right question is not ‘what part’, rather ‘what business does this library cover for?’. I branched out, remember? Like you should.”

Tommy was uncomfortable regarding the turning of the meeting.

“Do you like music, Mr Shelby? I, meself enjoy very much Erik Satie. He was french and died in Paris a couple years ago, unfortunately. I’ve met him, several times in fact, at some events such as festivals, ballets, theatrical performances, and other fancy evenings, you know?” You were restlessly talking, seeking any emotion in Tom’s face.

Even if his primary idea was to come and suggest that the two of you could work together, he didn’t think this would’ve been this easy to convince you, or that you would be so open about yourself, you didn’t behave the same as you did during your previous meetings, which confused Tommy.

“No--No, I don’t know, I was born gipsy, not born with a silver spoon in me mouth” His tone filled with sarcasm, he caught you staring at him. You didn’t release the look, nor did he.

“I wasn’t either, I just worked my way up there.” You handed back the cigarette to Tommy.

He glanced at you that was standing beside him, you were now looking at the movements in the street with an unreadable face.

“Guess politics offer diverse opportunities?”

You were fierce, without a doubt, but for some reason, your guards were down this evening. Perhaps this meeting established your partner status?

“Would you drive all the way to Westminster in London to talk every week at the House Of Commons, if not?” You retorted a brow raised high.

So you were aware of his position there... It wasn’t too much to say your whole character was a mystery to him. 

Sometimes you were head-on & aggressive, sometimes you seemed confident and serene. But overall, you were aware of yourself and everything you might be concerned about. 

You knew how to collect information and use it to your advantage. He didn’t doubt you were smart, but the best thing he’d seen about you so far was your patience. 

You knew everything would fall into place as you handled it with a tight hand, so you weren’t rushing over anything nor slipping key information to demonstrate your power. 

You used them at the right time, always reminding the people working with you that you were to be taken seriously.

The more he knew about you, the more emotions were settling in him. Which didn’t happen in a long time. 

He couldn’t even get something as basic as sleep, so how could he afford to feel things? But here he was, his heart fluttering at the idea you were maybe what he was looking for: a man that he couldn’t defeat. A woman, innit.

He was reassuring himself thinking “it’s only business” when catching his thoughts drifting to the tornado that you were, but as you succeeded to impress him every time, he admitted there was something about you that was calling him.

“You’re on your own?” The words left his mouth softly.

“Beg pardon?” You drank your drink taking your time, appreciating the burning spreading in your chest. 

“You’re in town by yourself, no one to call family then?” Tom tried to cover his thirst to know more.

You didn’t respond right away, looking into the liquid in your drink as if searching for the answer there. You were unreadable again.

“I am.” You finished your cup.

The man didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t staring at you, his deep blue eyes searching your soul in the slightest of your move or expression as a peaceful silence settled between you. 

Following Chapter ❱

[losingmymindtonight]

Trope: Clingy

AN: me, editing this fic: god, why is Peter so ANNOYING?

that little voice in the back of my head that’s an asshole: it’s because you based him off of you

As usual, I didn't edit this very closely, and it was written on a bus and in dining halls. This is just the new standard for the semester, y'all. I'm so sorry. Still, it's my usual brand of sleepiness (+ fixing Tony’s story in Endgame). If you've read of my other stuff, welcome back. I'm a one-trick pony.

--

Peter smacked his bedside clock, and his ceiling lit up with a galaxy, swirling and lazy. In the center, bright green numbers spelled out 1:58 am.

He could hear the indistinct murmur of the TV wafting up through the floorboards. When he focused, he could pick up Tony’s breath, and unmistakable off-kilter, over-fast thud of his heartbeat. Tony had told him that the technical name for it was tachycardia. A permanent reminder of Afghanistan and the damage done there. Even without the reactor and the shrapnel that had orbited it, Tony’s heart would never be healthy again.

He probably could’ve gone back to sleep. Actually, he definitely could’ve gone back to sleep. He’d been burning the candle on both ends, recently, with Spider-Man and all the summer work Midtown had assigned, a half-assed attempt to catch the Dusted students up to speed. His general lack of self-care had come to an apex last week: when May had ambushed him with a print-out of his sleep patterns, courtesy of the biomonitor Tony had given him. 

And that was, of course, how he’d ended up here: on a forced break from the suit and school and everything else. He’d been a little bitter about it, for the first five minutes, but then Morgan had lunged into his arms and a late-summer breeze had rattled the trees and Tony had pulled his duffle bag off of his shoulder, squeezing the back of his neck as he did it, and he’d decided that being bitter was for people who hadn’t died yet.

He hadn’t even realized how exhausted he was until he’d had Pepper’s homemade mac and cheese in his stomach and his head pillowed against Tony’s shoulder. He’d made it all of fifteen minutes into the classic Cinderella before Tony was ushering him off to bed, guiding him up the stairs and griping about teenagers having a major deficit in self-preservation skills.

To be fair, he was probably right.

Those few hours of sleep had been nice, but Peter could tell that he needed a lot more. Maybe an entire week’s worth. If he moped enough, he was pretty sure Tony would let him do it, too. Yeah, that would be nice. Sleeping for a week, curling into his sheets, listening to Tony’s heartbeat thumpthumpthump-skip through the floor.

Except it was 1:58 in the morning, Tony was watching TV in the living room, and Peter was too curious for his own good.

He pushed off his bed, grabbed the throw that Pepper had folded over the foot of his mattress, and settled it over his shoulders like a cape.

The hall was cold. Peter traced the wall as he headed for the stairs. There were picture frames everywhere. So many that he could barely see the wallpaper through them. Of course, there were dozens of photos of Morgan, from the first picture taken after she was born to one they must’ve hung only a few weeks ago: her dangling upside down from a swingset in the backyard, grinning wide. There were a few photos from Tony and Pepper’s wedding, the one they’d had during the five years Peter had missed, and a few more from the vow renewal they’d put on after he’d come back. And then, of course, there were the photos of him.

When Peter had first come to the cabin, there was only one picture of him hanging in the hall, which was definitely one more than he’d expected to see. Tony didn’t really talk about it, mostly because he didn’t really seem to like talking about anything that had happened during the missing years, but Pepper had told him that he’d put it up sometime after Morgan’s second birthday.

The funny thing was, it wasn’t even a picture of Tony and Peter together. In fact, it’d been taken long before Tony had ever even met him. Peter couldn’t have been more than two, but he was sitting in a patch of grass, brandishing a flower out to whoever was holding the camera with a smile on his face.

Apparently, Tony had found it when he was going through his and May’s apartment. He’d shyly offered it back to May, once everything had been reversed, but she’d just smirked at him and told him to keep it.

Now, though, there were at least half a dozen photos of him, all framed and hung alongside Tony and Pepper and Morgan. Peter holding a Spider-Man themed tub of Ben and Jerry’s. Peter and Morgan sitting on the dock. Peter and Tony working in the lab. Peter curled over his desk, taking notes from a textbook.

The stairs creaked under his feet, but Peter knew the pattern. Third step, seventh step, twelfth. The TV was louder, now, and he could tell it was turned to a History Channel documentary on Hitler and aliens. Tony wasn’t actually watching anything, then. He was just using it for background noise.

Sure enough, Peter turned the corner to see Tony slouched back on the couch, eyes fixed on his StarkPad rather than the badly-rendered animation of Hitler being abducted by a UFO.

“Hey, bud,” Tony said, not glancing up. He moved his arm, though, holding it up in an unspoken invitation for Peter to curl up with him.

(It was Peter’s favorite kind of invitation.)

He padded over, hardwood cool and textured against his bare feet. He flopped bonelessly into Tony’s side, and he heard the man let out a little snort of amusement, like Peter’s laziness was the most precious thing in the universe.

“You comfy?” Tony whispered, fingers tracing gently through Peter’s hair.

“One sec,” he muttered. He spent the next few seconds curling himself into a ball, knees knocking against Tony’s ribs. He poked him irritably until he twisted a little, letting Peter settle more comfortably, cheek pressed up against his collarbone.

He let out a contented sigh. “Now I’m comfy.”

“Oh, good,” Tony said, dry. “Glad we’ve got that sorted.” His voice softened, low and concerned. “What’re you doing awake?”

“I woke up and heard you breathing.”

It was probably something Peter wouldn’t have said if it wasn’t 2:00 am and he wasn’t half asleep. From the way Tony went all still and quiet for a few seconds, he guessed that his mentor had realized the same thing.

“You can hear me breathing from your bedroom?”

“Mhm. And your heartbeat.”

“Huh.” Tony turned his attention back to whatever it was he was doing on his tablet, seeming perfectly content to end the conversation there. “Fascinating.”

He hadn’t exactly had a specific intention in coming downstairs, outside of finding out what Tony was up to, but being ignored was not on his list of expectations. May kept making offhand jokes that Tony was spoiling him, and maybe that was a little true, but it was nice to have someone who looked at him like everything he said was lined with gold. He’d gotten used to it, after coming back. Tony listened to him like he was speaking scripture, or something. Like everything he did was a miracle.

He reached out and plucked the StarkPad out of Tony’s hands, setting it on the arm of the couch.

“Hey,” Tony chastised, but there was no real bite in his words, “I was doing something.”

Peter glanced up, smiling innocently. “Whoops.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but there was something curious there, too. Curious, gentle, concerned. “Why’re you being difficult, huh?”

“I just wanted to make you pay attention to me.”

Tony huffed out a breath that was half laughter, half fondness. “You don’t have to make me pay attention to you, buddy.”

Peter didn’t really feel a need to respond to that. Instead, he just nuzzled closer, pleased.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Tony asked, eventually. It took him a lot longer than Peter had been expecting.

“Nope.”

Tony was quiet for a second.

“So you really did just want attention.”

“It’s what I deserve,” he joked, and he felt a satisfied rush of success when Tony laughed.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Another soft chuckle. “God, I’ve created a monster, haven’t I? Everyone kept telling me it would happen, and now it has. I’m reaping what I’ve sown.”

“You like it.”

“What, having clingy children? Absolutely not. I despise it.”

Peter just shook his head. He was too cozy to play along with Tony’s game. It was past 2:00 am, Peter had been dead this time last year, and he just wanted to have a few moments of warm, honest affection.

“You like it,” he repeated, and he could tell that Tony got the message, because he pulled Peter closer with a long, white-flag sigh.

“Alright, I do. Just keep that a secret, okay? If Morgan finds out, we’ll have trouble on our hands.”

“I think she already knows, Mister Stark.”

“Oh, god. We’re doomed.”

He snorted. “You weren’t doomed with just me?”

“That’s a fair point, actually.” There was so much affection in Tony’s voice that it overflowed into Peter’s chest. “There was never any hope for me, huh?”

“Nope.”

A few minutes slid past in relative quiet. The TV still droned on in the background, but Peter mostly tuned it out. Tony’s heartbeat was a better soundtrack, anyway.

Tony rubbed his side to get his attention. “Can I have my tablet back, Pete?”

Peter squinted one eye open, suspicious. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to be asleep in,” Tony faked glancing at a watch, “approximately five to ten minutes, and I have work to do.”

He didn’t really take offense to the estimate. Anyway, he was tired, and there wasn’t a better place to catch up on some sleep than with Tony there. Nothing, not even nightmares, could touch him like this.

Peter lazily handed him the tablet. He guessed it was probably a defeat, but it didn’t feel like one. After all, Tony just set it aside again and kept all his focus on him.

“You know,” Tony murmured, and he was using the tone he always put on when he read Morgan a bedtime story, “I saw an article earlier. I don’t remember what it was about, exactly, because you and Morgan were distracting me, but it talked about a study this institute did into parents. D’you wanna know what it said?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It claimed that the average parent worries about their child for five hours every day. And right away, I thought, that can’t be right. That’s not enough. I’m worrying about Morgan and Peter constantly.” He felt Tony press a light kiss to his head. “You never need to make me pay attention to you, Pete. I promise that I’m already doing it.”

He liked it when Tony referred to him and Morgan as one unit. My kids. My children. It didn’t really matter how often Tony reassured him that Morgan didn’t change anything, that Peter still mattered to him just as much ever: the hint of insecurity lingered. But these moments, these little slices of full-focus, all-on-him attention, soothed it away, if only for a little while. If only for a second.

“It’s a full-time job,” he whispered.

Tony paused. Peter recognized the silence as thought. Tony Stark may be known for rushing ahead, but that wasn’t all he was. He was careful with Peter, in the same way that he was careful with Morgan.

“It’s more than that,” he finally said, slowly. “You and Morgan… you two are the most important pieces of who I am. It comes before everything else. Everything I want, everything I need, is a secondary concern. And I know you hate it when I say this, but it really isn’t a feeling you’ll be able to understand until you’re older. Right now, it’s all about you, and that’s how it should be. It’s how it’s meant to be. But one day, you’ll have kids of your own, and you’ll get it.”

Peter just hummed. He hadn’t really absorbed much of what Tony was actually saying. He’d been way more content to doze during the speech. And in his defense, he had gotten the gist of it. Tony really could’ve just said I love you, I love you, I love you over and over again and ended up with the same result. 

Tony huffed a gentle laugh.  “You didn’t pay attention to a word of that, did you?”

“I kinda did.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tony scratched lightly at Peter’s scalp. Somehow, he always knew the exact spot to hit. “Get some rest, kid. I swear I’ll give you all the attention you want when you wake up.”

“And now.”

“Yeah, yeah. And now. You want constant attention when you’re tired. I’ve gotten the memo.”

“No, all the time.”

He could sense Tony shaking his head, hands moving to carefully tuck his bedroom throw more firmly around his shoulders. “You’re gonna be so embarrassed about this when you’re not sleep deprived, bud.”

“Nah,” Peter mumbled. He was already done with the conversation, if he was being honest. He was curled up against one of his favorite people in the world, he was exhausted, and he just wanted to sleep. “‘M never embarrassed with you.”

The comment won him Tony pulling him closer, which was never something to complain about. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“And attention,” Peter added, grinning lazily. “And food. And money.”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s not forget all that.”

--

AN: This was, as many of my fics are, inspired heavily by my dad. He tends to stay up really late working, and I like to come downstairs and bother him. 

I stumbled across the statistics I mentioned while doing some reading for my Women’s and Gender Studies class. When I asked my parents if it was true, they both immediately went, “absolutely not, I worry about you and your brother 24 hours a day, every single day.” Hence Tony’s little speech.

[fangirlshrewt97]

911 Fic: A Serious Conversation and a Funny Pun

Author(s): Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: 9-1-1 (FOX)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan “Buck” Buckley & Christopher Diaz

Characters: Evan “Buck” Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Christopher Diaz

Rating: General (two curse words used)

Warnings: None apply

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Fluff and Comfort, Insecure Buck, Pining Eddie, Adorable Chris, Attempt at humor,  

Summary: When Eddie comes to pick Chris up after a shift, he and Buck have a long overdue conversation regarding the aftermath of the tsunami.

Alternatively, Buck is being dumb, and the Diaz boys set him right.

Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752768

                                                     ******

Buck was cleaning up the mess that he and Christopher had made during their impromptu pillow fight when he heard the knock at the door. Setting the picture frames back in their rightful place, Buck went and opened the door.

“You’re late.” Buck said. Stated. Winced. That was not what he had meant to say.

At least Eddie seemed to be sheepish about it. “I know, I’m sorry. The last call ran long and we got back to the station late. Can I come in?”

Buck stood back to let him pass into the house and locked the door behind him. He moved to the kitchen to retrieve a beer, trusting Eddie to follow. “Is everyone ok?”

“Oh yeah no, it was a routine call Buck. There was a three car pile up in the highway, no casualties, but one of the vehicles was a huge pickup truck that had been carrying fertilizer and it spilled everywhere,” Eddie said as he settled into the barstool. Buck opened the fridge and got two beer bottles, popping them open before handing one to Eddie. “Thanks.”

Buck clicked his beer bottle to Eddie’s in acknowledgement. “That must have stunk.”

“It was horrific. Honestly, Bobby was about 2 minutes from ordering us to wear gas masks. I think the only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to cause unnecessary panic.” The beer was cool as it slipped down his throat, settling him. He looked around the apartment, noting that furniture was slightly out of place and he spied a couple pillows laying haphazardly in a pile on the sofa. “Is Christopher asleep?”

“Yeah, I figured a call must have run late when you didn’t call me as you always do when you are starting from the station, and since it was already past his bedtime, I didn’t want to mess up his routine.” Buck said, voice soft as he remembered the boy trying to manipulate him into letting him stay awake a bit longer.

“He tried to make you let him stay up longer didn’t he?” Eddie teased when he saw the small smile on the younger man’s face. His chest felt warm in a way entirely unrelated to the alcohol, but he wasn’t sure which of the two boys caused it. Probably both. He was such a sucker.

“He knows how to work his puppy dog eyes for sure, let me tell you.” Buck commented as he rounded the counter to sit at the edge, knocking knees with Eddie. Eddie took a quick gulp to mask the butterflies that were starting up in his stomach.

“Oh no need, I have been on the receiving end of those too many times, and still don’t have a 100% immunity to them.”

“I don’t think its possible to be completely immune to them.”

The two men drank their beer in a friendly silence.

“I have another shift on Sunday, would you mind taking Chris then too?” Eddie asked.

Buck hesitated for a second before smiling brightly “Sure, not like I have anything else to do right?”

Eddie sighed. “Buck, you don’t have to force yourself to say yes…”

“Forced? No I am not forcing myself, why would you ask that? Eddie come on man I love Christopher!”

“Then why is it that you have started hesitating every time I ask you if he can stay over?” Eddie knew he should be softer with Buck, but sometimes bluntness was the only thing that got through to the stubborn idiot.

Buck visibly startled, as if he hadn’t realized Eddie had noticed, but Eddie has to give the man credit, he bounced back fast enough that if Eddie did not know him so well and hadn’t been staring him in the face he would have missed it entirely.

“I don’t hesitate!”

“You just did!”

“Eddie!”

“Buck!” Eddie said back, frustration giving way to annoyance, but both men paused when they heard rustling in the living room. When the noise stopped and it seemed Christopher had not actually woken up, Eddie sighed again and tipped his head forward, letting himself fall forward onto his forearms against the cool countertop. “Buck, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“I don’t want to fight either.”

“Then why are you lying to me?” Eddie asked, lifting his head to look at Buck. The man looked frozen. “Buck is this still about what happened during the tsunami?”

Those seemed to be the magic words because Buck visibly recoiled to the point of almost falling off his stool. He started to say something but stopped thrice and looked lost for words.

“Buck, I already told you I don’t blame -”

“You should!”

“Buck what-”

“Eddie how can you just … just forgive me like that?” Buck bit out, running his hand over his scalp and rubbing the back of his neck. “I almost lost you son, I didn’t call you, I was careless with him! How can you not care?!”

“Not care? Are you kidding me right now? Jesus you think I am dismissing that night? That night of the tsunami when you told me, those few seconds before I saw him were the worst few seconds of my life. I had thought that life could throw anything it wanted at me, how could it be worse than what had already happened? Not care, bullshit Buck. I was terrified. For the past few weeks, Chris has been having nightmares and screaming through the night. That first week after the tsunami he refused to sleep alone.” Eddie knows he should slow down, Buck is pale as a ghost but he is too worked up, and maybe Buck has a point, he needed to get it all out, but this was not how it was supposed to go. He is breathing heavily, hands clenched on the edge of the countertop, knuckles white. He closes his eyes and leans back, putting distance between them, and exhaling. In a quieter voice, he asks “When you said those words, that you couldn’t find Chris, that you thought he was gone, do you want to know what I actually thought?”

Buck looks more scared than Eddie has ever seem him, except when he was trapped under the fire truck, and what does it say about them that he is making Buck as scared as he was when he thought he was going to die? Eddie sat back down on his stool, hesitating before extending his hand, palm facing up on the counter, there if Buck wanted to take it. Buck looked at the offered hand as thought it could shatter him, flickering between it and Eddie’s face. Only at Eddie’s reassurance did Buck lightly place his hand on top. Ignoring the warmth curdling in his stomach (not the time!), Eddie squeezed the hand gently.

“Buck, the only thought running through my head was I had been a terrible father.”

Buck nearly fell off his chair again, only Eddie’s hand gripping his keeping him from falling to the floor. “What?! Eddie you are the best father I have ever seen. You care for Chris, and you go so above and beyond for him. You make sure he wants for nothing, and if he asked you the world, I am convinced you would find a way to give it to him.”

Eddie chuckled but didn’t stop the tears that rolled down his eyes as he remembered that awful night. “I haven’t convinced myself I am not doing so to make up for running away from him in the first place.”

“That makes you that much better of a dad. Because you came back, you decided you weren’t going to hide from your responsibility. You made the choice to always be there for him. You are his whole world Eddie, and that’s not something a lot of kids can say about their dad.”

“You have become a part of his world too Buck. Why are you scared?”

“It’s not the same…”

“Explain the difference to me.”

“Eddie you are his dad.”

“Yes, and?”

“I am not.”

“Do you love him?”

“What? You know I do!”

“Do you want him to be happy?”

“Eddie,” Buck said, stony faced as he saw where the conversation was headed.

Eddie was firm thought. “Yes or no only. Do you want Chris to be happy?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want him to be safe?”

“Yes.”

“When you are with him, is he your first priority?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think about him even when he isn’t with you?”

“Yes.”

Eddie smiled. “See?”

“See what?” Buck grumbled, mad that he had let himself be played so easily.

“Buck, you are not half as stupid as you pretend to be alright. I would have answered yes to every single one of those questions too.”

“So would the rest of the team!”

“Maybe, but I am not concerned about the rest of the team.”

“Just me.”

“Buck no…” Eddie said, sighing as he pressed the heel of his wrists to his eyes. He took a deep breath and stood up, moving to stand in front of Buck. The change in position had Buck looking up at him for a change. The vulnerability in his eyes, as if Buck was scared of what Eddie was going to say next. Moving deliberately, Eddie moved to cup the back of Buck’s neck, and tried to get his heart under control from where it was trying to leap out of his chest. Buck gasping and his pupils dilating slightly was not helping him in the slightest.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, ok?” Eddie said, making sure the other man was looking at him.

Only when Buck nodded did he proceed. “You are so important to me Buck. Like insanely so. When I first moved to LA, I was so worried about how I was going to raise Chris alone in this new city. I was grateful for Abuela and Tia don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I would have ever moved here if I didn’t even have their small safety net. And even after I got here, some days I thought my parents were right and I was crazy for moving here. But then something changed. Want to guess what?”  Eddie asked, a small smirk on his face.

Buck blushed, and Eddie felt a rush of affection. God he wanted to kiss him so bad. Why was he such a … knucklehead?

“Buck, you accepted Chris immediately, you never questioned about his disability or treat him differently to how to treated any other kid, and I don’t have the words to tell you how much that means to me. Most people can’t look past the walking aids or his differences, and you didn’t blink an eye at any of it. You just drove us in your truck speaking with him as if he was a normal kid the whole way home.”

“He is a normal kid Eddie.”

“I know that Buck, you know I do. And you know that. And the team. But for the random strangers walking down the street? For the judgemental parents in the playground?-”

“They can go shove it!” Buck said, frowning at the thought of people being cruel to Chris. And how was it possible Eddie hadn’t burst from how much he adored this man.

“Yes they can. But I mention them to explain that that is what I am used to Buck. The team accepting Chris and making him so comfortable meant the world to me, but you Buck? I…” Eddie choked off, surprised at the tears that started falling down his face.

Buck looked alarmed and stood up, but the close proximity at which Eddie had been standing meant they were standing chest to chest. They are like that for only an instant, yet Eddie felt as though his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his body at the sudden influx of points of contact with Buck. He tries to move away, but stumbles, nearly falling, if not for Buck throwing an arm around his waist and pulling him to his chest instead.

Time paused and quiet fell in the kitchen, even their breaths hitched as they stood frozen in position. Eddie could barely force his eyes away from Buck’s slightly open lips, and Buck was wide-eyed. Eternity could have passed without either the wiser. Neither knew who moved first to close the distance only for both to freeze when a faint “Buck? Daddy?” echoed through the pin-dropping silence.

The two moved apart, reluctant to put distance between them. When Chris appeared from behind the stairs, he stood adorably bed-rumpled, hair askew in all direction, one hand rubbing his eye as the other one covered his yawn.

Eddie took a step towards his son, falling to his knees in front of him to see him in the eyes. “Hey buddie, what woke you up?”

“I thought I heard some yelling…” Chris said as he hugged his dad, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and rubbing his nose into the soft t-shirt he was wearing. Eddie’s arm tightened around his son, one hand cupping the back of his head. “We weren’t fighting buddie.”

“Yes you were…”

“No Chris, Buck was just being stupid about something, and I was telling him so.”

“Oh. You promise you weren’t fighting.”

“Promise. Right Buck?”

“Yeah totally. Don’t worry buddie, your Dad and I weren’t fighting.”

“What were you being stupid about?”

“Christopher, that’s rude! But yes Buck, want to tell him what you were being stupid about?”

Buck looked like a deer caught in headlights and blubbered a few times, nothing sounding close to words coming out. Deciding to take pity of him, Eddie tipped Chris to face him. “Buck here was saying that he doesn’t think he can take care of you.”

He heard the man make an aborted sound of protest behind him, but Chris scrunched his face into a confused frown. “But he takes care of me so well!”

Eddie smiled, grin stretching from ear to ear. He had the best kid in the goddamn universe. “Exactly. That’s why I was yelling at him.”

Chris looked between the two of them, Eddie kneeling in front of him, supporting his weight entirely to compensate for the absence of his crutches, and Buck in the background, looking at him and his dad then back to the ground. Slowly pushing himself away from his dad, Chris stumbled over to Buck, feigning a fall at the last second. As he had expected, Buck shot out to grab him under the armpits.

Chris smiled crookedly as he looked at him from the tilted angle. “See? I knew you’d catch me!”  

Buck gapes at him, and Eddie will admit he is also surprised by his son’s ingenious yet devious plan. Chris adjusts himself inside Buck’s arm, throwing his own over the man’s shoulders to hug him close. “I love you so much Buck!” Chris whisper-shouts in his soft voice. Eddie feels as though he is melting from the inside as Buck nearly collapses from Chris’s declarations, eyes glistening with sudden tears.

Eddie’s own eyes start to grow wet and he has to blink to chase the tears away. He goes over to where the two are, moving on his knees, and throws his arms over both his boys. He buries his nose in Chris’s hair, taking a deep breath as he bumps his head with Buck’s.

Buck peeks up from where he is hiding his face in Chris’s shoulders, eyes twinkling and honest to god sparkling with joy. Eddie feels lighter than air.

They stay like that until Chris starts to squirm, and chuckling, both let go, still staying close enough for Chris to regain his balance before he pushes them slightly to make his way to the kitchen.

“I’m hungry…”

Eddie protests at the request, knowing it cannot end with a full night’s rest if he lets Chris continue his plan. “Chris is it way past your bedtime!”

Chris turned to him with his famous killer pout-puppy dog eyes combination. Luckily Eddie had just been through a normal but tiring 24-hour shift which meant he wasn’t going to get mad, but he also was not going to put up with Chris’s antics.

Buck on the other hand - hook, line, and sinker. He crumbled like a sandcastle built by a child who was not architecturally-inclined.

“We still have some leftover pasta from dinner Chris, let me just heat it up for you!” Buck said as he went to the fridge and retrieved a small container.

“Buck, if he eats now, I swear he won’t sleep for another hour!” Eddie protested, but his complaints fell on deaf ears as both of his boys were in the kitchen, Buck having lifted Chris up so he could see the container go around inside the microwave. Eddie exhaled heavily. He guessed he should be lucky that such inane things could hold the attention of the two. Although his lips quirked as he recalled a memorable trip to Home Depot where he had left them by the kitchen section and returned half hour later finding them still fascinated with the silverware.

Joining them in the kitchenette, Eddie grabbed the plates from Buck and settled them on the counter before helping Chris onto the stool. Buck laid out the cutlery while Eddie retrieved the container from the beeping microwave. Buck had also pulled out some orange juice and poured Chris a cup.

Chris was giggling when Eddie placed the dish on the table, and said loudly, holding up a single piece of pasta up to Buck. “Hey Buck, what do you call a fake pasta?”

Buck put on a thoughtful face, hmming until Chris was in hysterics.

“Careful Buck, you might hurt yourself thinking so hard!” Eddie added in, shaking slightly from contained laughter.

Buck put on an exaggerated pout and turned to Chris “Chris, you dad is being mean to me!”

Chris just laughed harder before turning to Eddie and adopting a serious tone (failing miserably but adorably) “Dad…you have to… you have to apologize to Buck!”

Eddie nodded along equally seriously to Chris before turning to Buck. “I am sorry Buck.”

Buck squinted at Eddie before looking at Chris who nodded his head before gesturing him to come closer. Buck leaned in to hear what he had to say, a mischievious smile taking over his face, eyes twinkling. Eddie felt twin coils of apprehension and adoration flood his stomach. He was so screwed. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

“Ok?…”

“On one condition.”

“...What’s the condition?”

“We go out for ice cream and donuts tomorrow.”

Eddie looked between the two of them, and sighed exaggeratedly. “Fine” and ducked his head down so they didn’t catch his fond smile as they cooed victoriously and high-fived. The butterflies were back in Eddie’s stomach. Or were they elephants?

Actually you know what, it didn’t really matter, Eddie thought, as he joined his two favorite humans in the whole world for a lovely late-night snack. The domesticity of the scene amplified Eddie’s yearning for this to become permanent, for Buck to not just be a friend, but family, properly.

He wouldn’t say anything today, the tsunami had changed things between them, it was inevitable, but Eddie was willing to put in the work to not only mend the bridges, but hope for something more at the end. And he had a hunch he wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

                                                ******

Bonus:

“Oh wait, Chris, what is the answer?” Buck said as they were washing up the dishes.

“Answer?”

“Answer to your joke. What is a fake pasta called?”

The Diaz boys looked at each other before laughing and answering simultaneously “An Impasta!”

[im-not-a-satanist-i-swear]

How (Not) To Catch A Deer

Chapter 1: How Could Anyone Look At That Face And Be Okay?

Notes: This isn't exactly a slow burn, but it's not one of those 'Hey let's fuck, oh by the way, I don't know your name' ones either. The hardest part about this was probably choosing the chapter title, because I came up with a bunch and had trouble picking. If anyone's even reading this, I'll add the alternate titles I came up with in the notes at the end of this chapter, and lemme know which one you liked best. Check me out on Wattpad @ninjapickles49 Thanks, and enjoy.

Wade wasn't addicted.

That was the one thing he was sure of because, firstly, his healing factor prevented him from getting addicted to anything. And second, he would never let himself want something he couldn't have—

[Liar.]

—no matter what White said. It was unprofessional.

He wasn't addicted.

And yet, here he was, for some reason, on the subway for the millionth time, going somewhere he didn't need to go for the millionth time. Hiding his face in the shadow of his hood, trying not to bump into strangers for the millionth time. Attempting to swallow his anxiety and the creeping feeling of claustrophobia for the millionth time.

All so he could stand there and watch—

[Stalk, you mean.]

{Admire!}

—the figure on the other end of the subway car.

Wade had lost count of how many days or weeks it had been. It probably wasn't that many, but it seemed like he had been coming here forever. Getting on the subway every morning of every weekday, sitting or standing on the opposite end of where the object of his obsession always sat. Trying to stifle his slowly building panic as more and more people crowded on, headed to their jobs. Then came the moment of relief, the deep calming sigh Wade always released as soon as he was the familiar mop of hair and scuffed satchel. He remembered the first time he had seen that satchel and hair, unusually clearly.

Wade getting on the subway that day had been a complete random choice. He had realized—quite suddenly—that after all the time he'd spent in New York, he had never seen the Statue of Liberty. Not up close. It was a split-second decision to hop on a subway that went across the city; he didn't have any plans that day. And for once he thought it'd better to go in his civilian clothes.

He would draw less attention that way, melding into the crowd of people; almost like he was one of them.

[Almost.]

And it was less likely that he'd be attacked, threatened, or banned from the place that way. Some people didn't respond well to a large, loud man in a red leather suit and mask, even if he left most of his weapons at home.

So there he was, standing in the corner of the subway car, keeping his head down, face hidden under the hood except to glance around and make a mental note of the people getting on and off and how many there were.

White was lecturing him about being stupid while Yellow sang Crazy Train very off-key and the people around him were talking as they filed in from the station. Wade was inching away from people that got too close, beginning to think this was a bad idea without his suit, and a few seconds from bolting out the doors—Statue of Liberty be damned—when his gave happened to land on one of the people shuffling in and Wade's whole world stopped.

His panic fizzled out, the babble of voices around him fading to a distant hum. Even the boxes grew quiet as they tried to figure out what had captured his attention while Wade's eyes remained glued to the figure who had just sat down on the other end of the car.

Yellow just let out a small gasp. {Oh my god...}

White just sighed. [Oh no.]

Wade just stared. Holy fuck.

Shaggy brown hair—thoroughly ruffled on the top, like fingers were dragged through it a lot—hung down into chocolate-colored doe eyes that seemed almost too big for the narrow pale face. The cute upturned nose, red at the tip, the full lips, and sharp jawline only made it that much more stunning. And to top it all off, the beautiful eyes were framed by black glasses; the modern thick plastic kind that Wade didn't even know he liked that much until now.

{Guess we can add glasses to the kink list.}

The guy was...

{Absolutely fucking adorable?! A hipster Adonis?! Our future husband?!}

[Way out of your league, not to mention almost definitely straight,] White snorted.

That had wiped the breathless smile off of Wade's face. He knew, of course, the White was right. He already knew that; he didn't need to be reminded.

{Yeah, don't ruin this, White. We can dream!}

[That's all it is though: a dream. And when you're forced, eventually, to return to the real world, the reality of your situation will hurt more. Dreams are for children.]

Wade felt his mood dropping even as he continued to watch the gorgeous guy.

{Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time? Now he's sad again, and so am I!}

"I'm fine, Yellow," Wade muttered. "White's right anyway."

{No, he's not! Dreams are the only reason we're—well, you're alive. I think White lost his, along with his soul and sense of humor...}

[I never had a soul to begin with, you idiot. Neither of us have one; we're not even technically alive, so you have nothing to dream about.] White was obviously getting irritated; his comments  biting deeper.

{But Wade does,} Yellow insisted. {And our life kinda sucks anyway, so let him dream... for all of us.}

"Who are you and what have you done with Yellow?" Wade had just enough presence of mind to turn to the wall as he spoke, hiding his face and hopefully muffling his voice.

{What?}

"When did you get so deep?"

There was a low snicker. {Well, I have been stretching myself out—}

[And he's back,] White interrupted tiredly over the sound of Yellow cackling.

The sound of the subway slowing down brought Wade out of his thoughts with a jolt and he glanced at where the adorable stranger had been sitting, panicking when he realized he was no longer there. He scanned the small crowd of people leaving the car—using his height to his advantage—and breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the guy.

He was hard to spot; he wasn't very tall—

{Size difference! One of my kinks!}

[Shut up. Don't encourage him.]

—and Wade strained to get a last glimpse of that face and those eyes, knowing he'd almost definitely never see the guy again. And when the doors slid shut behind the slim figure, Wade felt something drop in his chest as a foreign feeling curled through his body, warm and painful all at the same time. But he couldn't figure out if the emotion meant something was ending... or just beginning.

                                                        *   *   *

The rest of the day passed in a haze of faces and emotions, the boxes lecturing and encouraging over each other, getting louder and louder until Wade's head hurt.

He didn't go to see the Statue of Liberty. But that was the only place he was sure he didn't wind up in, because he spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar streets and neighborhoods, his mind a whirlwind. He didn't even know where all he went, hands in pockets, face hidden under his trusty hood as he tried to figure out how the hell a random—albeit very attractive—stranger, who hadn't even looked at or talked to him, had managed to get under his skin so fast.

By the time the sun was going down, he was no less confused, and was lucky to even find his way back to the subway station. If anything, he felt even more muddled, but now he just had a headache as well.

He got into the same car as last time, hating himself for even glancing hopefully at the seat the stranger had occupied as he made his way to the corner once more.

The next couple stops were spent staring into space, zoned out, muttering to White and Yellow, and clutching his head when they got really loud. And even though it was stupid—which White very helpfully reminded him of—he still paid attention when the subway stopped at the station the guy had gotten off at.

{Maybe he takes the same one home?} Yellow sounded hopeful.

[Even if he does, the chances of him getting on here the same time as we're here is very small. Look around; it's late. The mass majority of sheep went home hours ago. Either way, you're not gonna see—]

Yellow cut him off, letting out a squeal so loud and shrill, Wade had to resist the urge to double over or hit his head on something. {OMIGOD HE'S HERE.}

[Are you shitting me?]

Wade stared, shocked, as the beautiful stranger from that morning shuffled into the car, looking considerably more exhausted, but still just as gorgeous as Wade remember. Better, even.

{Did we just call a guy gorgeous and beautiful in the same sentence? That's gay,} Yellow giggled, sounding giddy.

[No, it's fucking stupid is what it is,] White snapped.

{Shut up, White! He's back and even you can't ruin the mood!}

White and Yellow started going at it once more, but Wade did his best to ignore them, fixing his attention on the guy. If this was all he could have, that was okay; it was all he deserved, but he was going to at least enjoy it. There were only a few other people in the car, and Wade shrunk into his corner a bit more, feeling exposed. If the stranger looked up, he'd see him.

But that didn't stop Wade from watching him the entire way back. He didn't even know why, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the guy.

And when the train stopped and Gorgeous Stranger Guy stood up, looking like he could drop on the spot, Wade felt a sense of dread wash over him. This was it, the last time he would ever see this random adorable person who somehow made his stomach feel weird and he hadn't even spoken to him. The doors slid closed, sealing his misery as he watched the slim figure leaving.

{But...} Yellow sounded thoughtful.

[There's a first time for everything, I guess,] White snarked. [Yellow's never thought before.]

{What if you could?} Yellow finished, ignoring White, sounding sly and tempting and way too fucking pleased with himself as Wade's heart leapt.

What if he could?

                                                 *   *   *

So here we are, back in the present, where Wade was spending—

[Wasting.]

—another day on the subway, just to watch the guy he had become so—

[Obsessed with.]

—interested in.

There was just something about him—not just his looks—that fascinated Wade.

He was always polite, giving up his seat if someone needed it, and apologizing to people if they bumped into him, or knocked one of the books that he always seemed to reading out of his hands. Wade had the very strong urge to take a swing at them, then make them apologize, but he never realistically, he couldn't. He just had to grit his teeth every time it happened and Adorable Stranger Guy just smiled and apologized.

But sometimes, when the guy thought he was alone in the crowd, unobserved and unnoticed, his polite mask would slip, a flicker of emotion crossing his face that he usually quickly stifled soon after. It happened mostly at night, when he was tired, and their were few people on the subway, all lost in their own worlds—except Wade, who wanted to do something every time he saw that emotion in the guy's eyes. Because he knew feeling better than any other, recognized it from the rare times he looked in the mirror without his mask; felt it nearly every second of every day.

It was loneliness.

And he knew how much it hurt; how it settled in your bones, tightened around your throat. Curled through your body, leaving a trail of ice in its wake until you felt like you'd never be warm again.

It was almost enough for Wade to go talk to the guy, but something—usually White—always seemed to stop him. Just because someone was lonely did not mean they needed Wade Wilson in their life.

[They'd be better off alone than with you.]

{Shut up, he's already brooding; you don't need to make it worse.}

And there were other things as well. Adorable Stranger Guy was always exhausted, even in the morning, leading Wade to believe this was not his only job. And he obviously wasn't very well off, if the neat but threadbare clothes, tattered Vans, and scuffed up satchel were anything to go by. And Wade was pretty sure in the first week or so of his subway rides, he'd already seen the full rotation of the guy's wardrobe.

The guy—

                                      *insert record scratch noise here*

{Okay, we can't just keep calling him 'the guy' or 'the stranger' or even 'Adorable Stranger Guy'. The readers will eventually get pissed if we don't come up with something better, and they'll leave!}

[Wade is such dumbass in this story, I don't doubt they'll leave anyway. Can you say 'BAD WRITING'?]

{Come on, White, help!}

[Shorty, Bedhead, Ragtag, Urchin, Andrew Garfield Wannabe...]

{OOH OOH I GOT ONE I GOT ONE! Okay, here we go.}

          *insert whatever the fuck the opposite of a record scratch sound is*

The guy—Wade had taken to calling him Bambi in his head, based on his eyes; he couldn't call him 'the guy' forever, that would be boring—

[Nice save, Yellow.]

—always seemed perpetually hungry, the signs also recognized by Wade who remembered the feeling all too well. He was tempted to just give the guy some food, or leave it on his chair or something, but he knew logically that wouldn't go over well. For one, he'd have to explain himself—meaning he'd have to talk to Bambi—and there'd be questions. And Wade didn't want him to think he was a charity case; he seemed like the type who would get offended by that. And Bambi didn't seem dangerously underweight; despite the small frame and narrow build, Wade caught glimpses of lean muscles and toned arms under the baggy clothes and oversized hoodies.

{He's still hungry though. Can we just take him home and feed him or something?}

[That's kidnapping.]

{Nothing we haven't done before,} Yellow muttered sulkily.

"Hey, hey, bastard pedophiles don't count," Wade muttered.

[The answer is still no. Why are we even still here?]

{Because WaAaaAAAdde's in looOOOoooOOve!} White giggled, his mood changing abruptly like it always did.

[Bullshit. This isn't love. This doesn't even qualify as a crush. It's not even anything remotely romantic. You're lonely and bored and looking for something to focus your attention and time on; to obsess over.]

{No, this is different...}

[No, it's not. That's my point. And I wouldn't expect you to be able to tell the difference even if there was one. You're so desperate for attention and affection that you've deluded yourself.]

Yellow didn't reply.

Wade wasn't sure if White's biting remarks were directed toward Yellow or himself, but it didn't matter; he was right either way. He sighed, glancing toward the quiet beauty with his nose in a book as usual, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Wade wondered absently what he was reading right then.

"You're probably right, White, but... just let me have this. Please."

White was silent for a long moment, before sighing heavily. [Go ahead. Waste your time pining after something you can never have. I can't stop you, but... I also sure as hell won't help you break your own heart. Not again.]

Wade didn't say anything else, fixing his eyes on Bambi once more. He wasn't sure whether to thank White or curse him, so he remained silent. All the way home.

                                                      *   *   *

[We can't keep this up forever.]

{Why the hell not? We don't have a life.}

[Wade, what are you going to do on the day he doesn't get on this subway?]

{Why would he stop?} Yellow sounded confused, and a little frightened by the idea.

[What if he moves? Gets a car? Quits his job? Life changes. People change. You're the only one who doesn't.]

"What happened to keeping your non-existent nose out of it?" Wade mumbled, watching as—for the millionth time—Bambi got on and plopped down, looking even worse for wear than usual.

[I said I wouldn't help you break your own heart.]

{Yeah, we remember; that was only like, nine paragraphs ago. So why are you back to being an ass?}

[I'm trying to save him—and you—from your own stupidity... again. This happens every time; it's a cycle. You—Wade—find someone, get obsessed, then rejected, then heartbroken, until you die enough times to finally move on. And it repeats. It's stupid, not to mention unhealthy.]

{But... what if this is where it stops?} Yellow sounded sickeningly hopeful.

[Yes—] White's every word dripped with sarcasm [—I'm sure this very attractive man who probably has a line of people throwing themselves at him—if he's not already in a relationship—will see your face and fall instantly in love with you... Grow up, Yellow.]

There was a very long silence filled with hurt and awkwardness that Wade did his best to ignore while he watched the people stream in—much more than usual—all on their way to their mundane jobs, where they got a mundane salary, and got to go home to their mundane suburban house and kiss their spouses and hug their kids...

Wade cut off that line of thought; it was too painful. Because as much as he wanted to pretend he didn't have a care in the world, and the thought of normal people and boring families made him ill... he secretly wanted it more than anything in the world. And the realization he could never have it, no matter how many lifetimes he lived, never hurt any less.

[We can't keep doing this, Wade,] White said finally, his tone gentler. [You said I was right. You know I'm right. This only ever ends one way.]

{No, don't listen to him! He has no heart—}

[This needs to be the last day. You can have this, but after today, it needs to be done.]

Wade heard a shocked gasp, and he honestly wasn't sure if it was him or Yellow.

"Why?" he whispered. "We—we're not hurting anyone."

[You're hurting yourself, and Yellow, by continuing this.]

{Ya know what?!} Yellow bellowed suddenly, causing Wade to flinch. {Screw you, White! You never shut up until you ruin everything and he does exactly what you want! I never to get to decide anything! So, if today's our last day, we're doing it my way!}

[What did you have in mind?] White asked dryly, not sounding as if he cared much.

{Go sit next to him.} Yellow sounded triumphant.

"What?" Wade froze, anxiety creeping through him at just the thought. He glanced over at the empty seat next to Bambi, who was reading, as usual.

{This is the last time we're ever going to see him,} Yellow said mournfully, {and you don't even know his real name. You're gonna regret it forever if you never get the chance to talk to him.}

"No, I don't... I can't..."

{GO SIT NEXT TO HIM OR I SWEAR I WILL SING BABY SHARK ON REPEAT FOR THE NEXT MONTH!}

[Oh... god no. Wade, just do it. I will not listen to that song ever again.]

"Have you guys lost your minds?" Wade hissed, looking the other way quickly as several people glanced his way.

{I'll do it, I swear on... chimichangas and tacos... and katanas!}

[Wade, if it comes down to it, I'm going to make you kill us until I can finally die and be rid of you or until he stops. Just do it, for fuck's sake; you're never gonna see the guy again.]

{Do it!}

[Do it.]

Well, fuck.

The boxes very rarely ever agreed on anything, and the few times they did, that meant it was important enough and Wade needed to listen. If they ever agreed against him, it meant he was wrong. If they ever had the same advice or answer, Wade always listened.

He was so used to doing it, the next thing he knew, he was crossing the subway car on shaky legs, closer and closer to the beautiful Bambi until—it felt like years, decades later—he sank into the seat next to the guy.

Once he got there, he came very quickly to the conclusion that White and Yellow were absolute idiots and what did he just do? He couldn't leave now, if Bambi noticed, he'd think Wade was being rude. And besides, it'd attract more attention to leave the seat for the corner now.

So, breathing shallow and heart beating faster than normal, he turned his head slowly under the hood, until he could just peek at Bambi. And he wasn't sure if the breath he released was one of relief or vague irritation when he saw the earbuds in Bambi's ears.

{Are you kidding me?! We came all this ass way—and he has earbuds in?}

[This is good. Now we don't have to try to make conversation, and he may not even notice your face, Wade.]

Wade's social anxiety and loneliness warred inside him as he took quick peeks at Bambi, until he wasn't sure if he wanted to yank the guy's earbuds out and introduce himself, or get off at the next station just to be able to get away from the crowds and people so he could calm down.

[I vote for the latter. This is getting ridiculous.]

{It's your last chance to talk to him!}

"What am I gonna do, tap him on the shoulder just to say hello? Earbuds are the universal 'leave me alone' sign," Wade murmured, barely audible even to himself.

[Not to mention probably traumatizing him when he sees your face.]

{It's not bad today. Less Deadpool suit means more good skin days.}

[Yay. So we've gone from open sores to just regular mangled-looking avocado skin. Such an improvement.]

{Maybe... he won't mind? Bambi seems like the type of person who wouldn't care about—}

[Now you're really grasping. How could anyone look at that face and be okay? It doesn't matter if he's a literal angel; you have the face of a demon. You have a face not even a mother could love.]

{You said... you said you'd let us have this.} Yellow's voice was small.

[Well, this is why you're a comedy relief character who doesn't make any important choices. Wade, either talk to him or leave. But you'd better make up your mind soon; his stop's coming.]

That jerked Wade out of his head and he glanced up to see the subway just starting to slow down.

Fuck.

{TALK TO HIM!}

[It's too late now.]

Wade sunk lower in his seat, misery already beginning to seep through him as he waited for Bambi to stand up and join the crowd waiting for the doors to open.

[Like sheep.]

When a minute had passed and Bambi still hadn't moved, Wade turned his head a tiny bit to glance at him.

{Awww...}

The guy still had his book open, but he was slumped forward slightly, eyes gradually drifting shut as his fingers started to loosen around the book.

[He's going to miss his stop.]

{Now you have an excuse!}

[Whatever gets us out of  here quicker.]

{Just poke him or nudge him or something! Anyone would do it!}

"What if he finds it weird I know where he gets off?"

[You're on here every day; you don't have to lie about that. And he has no idea he's the one you're stalking, so just tell him you're observant.]

{Hurry up, the subway stopped!}

[I refuse to listen to Baby Shark; just do it.]

Wade reached over hesitantly, breath caught in his throat. His fingers hovered for a moment, trembling, before he took a deep breath and shook the guy very gently—although you wouldn't have known it by Bambi's reaction.

Brown eyes snapped open as he jumped in his seat, breathing hard as his gaze darted around, finally settling on Wade, who was frozen, arm still outstretched, heart racing. Wade kept his head down, hidden in the shadow of his hood, hoping it'd be enough.

He could feel Bambi staring at him, confused but expectant.

"Sorry, but isn't this your stop?" Wade asked in a low voice, hating how rough his voice sounded. He cleared his throat quietly, daring to glance up as the guy looked around, at the people starting to file slowly out.

"Uh, yeah, it is, actually. Wow, thanks... how'd you know?"

{Don't mess this up.} Yellow sounded ecstatic, but nervous.

"I'm... I'm on here pretty much every day. I just payed attention..." Wade trailed off.

"Oh yeah, I think I've seen you on here before, once or twice."

{Omigod HE NOTICED US}

"Thank you so much though, seriously; I would have completely missed it." Bambi stood up. There as a short silence which made Wade think for a moment he had left. Then a hand appeared in front of his face, startling him into looking up.

Bambi was right in front of him, and as Wade tilted his head up, he felt the light hit his face.

Shit.

He was about to duck back into hiding but stopped, surprised beyond words when he realized Bambi was still smiling gratefully, arm outstretched towards him. His bright gaze flickered briefly across Wade's face, probably watching the shifting scars, but if he was disgusted, he didn't show it. Wade, stunned by his reaction—or lack thereof—found himself reaching for and shaking the slender hand with long delicate, but chilly fingers.

"I'm Peter," Bambi said softly, his eyes glowing softly, like melting chocolate. He was still looking at Wade like Wade was a completely normal person and not a walking disaster, and he didn't know what to think.

"Wade," he heard himself breathe out, still captivated by that face, too shocked to do anything but stare when Bam—Peter shouldered his beat up satchel and smiled that beautiful soft smile again. "Thanks again; it was nice to meet you. Guess I'll see you around, Wade."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wade—and the boxes—reeling.

White recovered first. [What the fuck.]

{That was actually... omigod, my heart's racing.}

"You don't have one," Wade replied absently, even as he reached up to feel his own thundering heartbeat.

[Okay... that was weird.] White sounded like he was trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. [But Wade, remember, we had a deal.]

{Even you can't ruin this, White. The Adonis talked to us and didn't even throw up or anything.}

"And now I know his name," Wade added, still feeling stunned. The adorable stranger on the subway, Bambi, who had actually talked to him and looked at him and didn't recoil from his face or skin... was Peter. It fit doe-eyes perfectly.

He smiled to himself, tuning out the beginning of White's lecture as best he could.

Peter.

Notes: I'm kinda proud of the title, but I was afraid nobody would get it, so I'm gonna explain it.  So White tells Wade his face is hideous and Wade thinks Peter has the most beautiful face, so the title could mean good or bad... it could be White talking to Wade or Wade talking about Peter. I just liked how it would work either way. But if nobody else got it, then sorry. And I'm also a little worried because the title sounds like it's to a super angsty story and I haven't gotten that far yet. Okay, I'll stop talking now; here are the alternate titles:

Bambi (Then the next chapter would be Peter, and the one after that would be Spider-Man)

How Many Times Can I Say 'Subway' In This Chapter?

Stalking a Deer

How (Not) To Catch a Deer

White's a DICK (who let Yellow title this one?!)            (I really liked this one too tbh)

[bts-b18]

Impuissance - Chapter 1

summary ⇢ Even before you saw his face, you knew it was him: Staring down at you with cold eyes was the guy you had seen earlier. Black hair framed his face with a prominent chin and red full lips. When your eyes came to his, you felt like you couldn’t move. They seemed endless and pitch black, like a sky without stars.

pairing ⇢ Taehyung x Reader  

word count ⇢  8k

genre ⇢   supernatural!au | angst | smut

chapter warnings ⇢ violence, kidnapping, emotional abuse

parts ⇢  01 | …

a/n   ⇢ All my Tae feels needed an outlet, so this is how this story came to be...

01 - Heartbeat

The music was loud in your ears. You had to concentrate on Lyn’s voice, telling you about her last concert experience. She was sitting in the stool in front of you, at your favorite bar. Your friend Cara, who was sitting next to you, suddenly poked your side.

“Hm, what is it?” you turned around to face her. Furrowing her eyebrows, Lyn stopped irritated, mid-sentence. Ignoring her, Cara leaned forward conspirational.

“That guy over there, with the black hair and hella expensive looking cloths has been staring at you the entire time Y/N.” she whispered. All your heads turned into his direction and indeed he was looking at you blatantly. When he saw that you noticed him, he even had the audacity to smirk. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you turned back to your friends quickly.

“He doesn’t even fucking care that we caught him!” you exclaimed flustered.

“Why would he tho? Have you seen him? He is extremely good looking.” Lyn observed.

Cara let out a low chuckle. “Careful Lyn, your drooling.”

Making an offended sound at the back of her throat, Lyn tore her eyes of him. And with that, the topic was off the table and your friends continued talking about the concert. You however, couldn’t quite concentrate on the conversation. The prickling sensation of someone’s eyes on you made you nervous. You were sure that the black-haired guy in the back was still looking at you, but you also didn’t want to check. Because he was indeed ridiculously handsome. You felt drawn to him and it would probably only get worse if your eyes were to find his.

You somehow successfully managed to keep your eyes of the mysterious man until your friends and you left the bar, a few hours later. It was late and the only thing you wanted right now was your warm and cozy bed. You parted ways with your friends on the next street corner. You didn’t live far from the bar, but you had to walk a few sketchy alleys in order to get home. Like always, you had agreed with your friends to text each other as soon as each of you got home safely. This gave you at least some sense of security.

Your thoughts still hung at the guy from the bar. The way he had looked at you with those dark eyes of his. He unnerved you and at the same time you felt like you wanted to see him again, to hear what his voice would sound like. Being lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the group of drunk men who were lurking at a bench you passed. Unluckily, they did see you. As soon as the first whistle sounded you tried to make yourself smaller, hurrying down the street to leave them behind you as fast as possible. Drunk men scared you, they were unpredictable and in most cases idiots. It seemed, however, that you couldn’t get rid of them so easily. You could hear them following you, yelling for you to stop and to talk to them. Of course, you had no intention of doing so. Your heart was beating fast in your chest and you could hear them coming closer.

Ahead was a small and dark alley, the last one and then you would be home. You sped up even more and just as you wanted to exit the alley, a hand came around your wrist, pulling you back in the shadows. You spun around, panic tightening your chest. But the firm chest you bumped into, didn’t belong to any of the men who had been following you. Slowly you lifted your head. Even before you saw his face, you knew it was him. Every single nerve in your body was prickling at the proximity you were in with him. Staring down at you with cold eyes was the guy from the bar earlier. Black hair framed his face with a prominent chin and red full lips. When your eyes came to his, you felt like you couldn’t move. They seemed endless and pitch black, like a sky without stars.

A shudder went down your spine, ripping you out of your trance. Averting your eyes, you found the bodies lying on the floor behind him. They were the noisy guys who had followed you earlier. Now however they lay perfectly still. To still. It was then that you realized something that made you cold all over. Their eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Their hands clung to their throats as if something had been choking them. And indeed there were red burns visible all around their necks. You felt nauseous. What had happened? You hadn’t heard anything behind you, but then again you had been very focused on getting away.

“Are… Are they dead?” you whispered.

“Yes.” The man in front of you stated. “I killed them.”

His voice was a deep baritone. Cold and soothing at the same time. You wanted to run. Run home. Hide in your bed and hope that all this had just been a bad dream when you woke up the next morning. But you felt frozen to the spot. Unable to move, unable to tear your eyes of the disturbing sight. “But why?”, you whispered so low that you weren’t sure he could even hear you.

“Because they wanted to hurt you.” He stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your eyes snapped to his face in surprise. He was still looking at you intently. He looked like he didn’t understand why you made such a big deal out of it. “They talked about what they wanted to do to you. They were disgusting little creatures.” His voice was calm, but it had a dangerous edge to it. And for a moment, so short that you weren’t sure if you maybe had just imagined it, his eyes flashed a deep ruby red. His hand was still around your wrist. His skin was cold and yet you felt like your skin was burning were his touched yours. His grip tightened and you winced in pain as he threw back his head studying the roofs above you.  “You are not safe here.” he muttered. “I will take you with me.”

Before you could voice any protest, he spun you around. Your back coming flush against his chest, as his other large hand came to your mouth, successfully muffling any sounds you made. Trying to free yourself, you threw back your head, only resulting in exposing your neck to him. His grip on your face tightening. Tilting his head his eyes ran over your neck, eyes slowly changing color.

“Please, don’t make this difficult.”, he warned. This made you panic even more. You dug your heels into the ground, trying to get away from him. But it was impossible. He was ridiculously strong with little effort. However, you had no intention of making this easy.

The black-haired male seemed to notice your defiance as his hand quickly dropped from your mouth to your pulse point. His two fingers pressing into the site of your neck, was the last thing you felt, before everything went pitch black.

________________________________________________

Light behind your eyelids was what woke you up. Slowly, you opened your eyes. They were heavy as stones and the light was so bright, it was almost blinding you. Lifting your arm, you tried to shield your face. Different things came into view: You were in a large room. Windows so tall that they reached the high ceiling, lined the walls on both sides. They were only covered by white silk sheets, which did little to block out the sunlight that was streaming through them. You were sitting in a large double bed, clad in only white as well. The bed was comfortable, and you were sure that, never in your live you had slept in such soft covers. The floor was made from old looking, polished wood. Besides a round fluffy carpet and the bed you were sitting in, the room was empty. This was most definitely not your bedroom. You tried to remember how you got here, but everything was hazy. Different images popped up in your head, all so blurry that you didn’t know if they were dream or reality.  Freeing yourself from the warm covers, you stepped out of bed. On the bedside table, you noticed your handbag. You reached for it, hoping to find your phone in order to get some clue as to where you were. Everything was in there, except for your wallet and mobile phone. Letting out a deep sigh, you stood up. You were wearing, what you identified as, your cloths minus a jacket and shoes. The t-shirt and jeans were wrinkled from wearing them to bed. You could feel a light headache pulsing in your temple. Maybe something to drink would help. Next to your bed, on the floor you noticed a pair of fluffy slippers. Putting them on, you walked towards the massive double door that stood at the far wall to the bed. The last thing you remembered was being at your favorite bar with Cara and Lyn. Maybe you had gone partying afterwards and somehow ended up at the place of some extremely wealthy dude? You should probably be more worried, but the only thing that worried you right now, was finding something to drink and maybe to eat.

The wooden door lead into a long hallway lined with other doors and expensive looking rugs and paintings. Whoever the owner of this mansion was, he had a good taste in art, you noted. The delicious smell of pancakes grazed your nose and you found yourself following it down the hall. The room you entered was almost larger than the bedroom you had woken up in. Here as well, large windows lined the one side of the room. Behind them you could see lush green forest. The forest stretched onto the horizon, making you wonder once again where exactly you were at.

“Enjoying the view, are we?”

The sudden voice made you flinch.  Turning around you came face to face with a very good-looking, black haired man. He was wearing a green suit with a white shirt underneath. The green complemented his dark hair just perfectly, giving them an emerald sparkle. The first few buttons of his shirt stood open, revealing the perfectly smooth skin of his chest underneath. His posture was relaxed but attentive. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, seeing your reaction.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to startle you.” He offered, amusement layered in his deep voice.

Somehow you felt like you knew him. His voice and face giving you and odd sensation of familiarity.  But if this was the guy you had gone home with last night, you should know him, right? You should ask what had happened. Ask where you where and where your phone and purse were. It was embarrassing really, but you needed to know. You could feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. One-night stands weren’t something you normally did. Being way too shy and careful to go home with a random guy.

“I’m sorry, but I must have had too much to drink last night, so I don’t really remember anything that happened. Could you maybe fill me in?” you asked hopefully. You hated how your voice sounded so small and insecure. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the whole situation. By the guy in front of you.

Seemingly, enjoying you being flustered he stepped closer, one of his large hands coming up to play with a strand of your hair. You felt a shudder running down your spine. Something inside you was screaming at you that this man was dangerous and that you shouldn’t be here. However, you felt yourself unconsciously leaning closer.

“Nothing much happened. You passed out and I took you home with me because I was worried.” He answered. “That- That’s all?” you wondered. A smirk appeared at his handsome features.

“You sound disappointed.” He grinned. “Wanted something else to happen?”

If it was possible to get even more red, now was the time. “NO! That’s not what I mean!” you hastily tried to explain. “It’s just.. Why would you take me home with you? Weren’t my friends with me?”

A low chuckle escaped his throat. Letting go of your hair, turning around to walk towards the huge table which was set up in the middle of the spacious room. “You were alone at that time.” He brought up one hand, signaling you to follow him. “Well not exactly alone. There were some drunk guys following you. You probably tried to run from them, bumped into something and fainted. Also, the place you were in didn’t strike me as a place that was suitable for a lady alone in the middle of the night. That’s why I brought you here.” He elaborated further.

Slowly following him you opened your mouth, another question at the tip of your tongue. “Shush! First have some breakfast, then you can ask me more questions.” he interrupted you. Reluctantly, you pushed back the chair at the far end of the table. In front of you, various kinds of fruits, pancakes and fresh coffee greeted you. You hated to admit, that you actually were quite hungry and that the delicious food in front of you made your stomach grumble violently. A quick glance to your left produced the handsome guy sitting comfortably in a chair at the head of the long table. He nodded encouragingly. “You don’t need to wait for me. I already had something to eat.” He clarified. It was as if he knew what you were thinking. But in this moment, you didn’t care. You just wanted to eat.

You had been so focused on the food that, only after some time you noticed him staring at you. He was watching you with interest and amusement. You wriggled in your chair uncomfortably.

“Uhm… Could you stop looking at me while I eat?”

“No.” he answered simply. Seeing the color blooming in your cheeks, resulting of his straightforward answer, a smirk grazed the right corner of his mouth. “My name is Taehyung; in case you were wondering…” he trailed off.

This made you feel even more embarrassed.

“I’m ...”, you started to say but Taehyung interrupted you: “Y/N. Yes, I know. Unlike you, I haven’t forgotten anything.”

You flinched, letting your gaze drop to your plate. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. You should go. You had no idea who this man was, and a moment ago you hadn’t even known his name.  It just simply hadn’t crossed you mind to ask him, feeling so drawn in by his appearance and voice. One reason more you shouldn’t trust him.

“I should go now. I’m very sorry for any inconvenience I may have cause. If you could give me back my phone and purse, I will be on my way.” You bowed, pushing yourself out of you chair. You started walking towards the door without looking at him again. You wanted to get your bag and then you would be out of here.

You stumbled down the corridor, trying to remember which was the door to the room, you had woken up in. Luckily you had left it standing wide open. Since you hadn’t looked back when you left, you had no idea how the outside of the room looked, and you would have to check all the doors. Before entering the room, you gave a quick glance over your shoulder. But there was no Taehyung following you.

Letting out a breath, you didn’t know you had been holding, you stepped forward. You had no idea what made you so anxious. He didn’t even do anything, and yet you felt like you needed to be careful around him. You turned around to close the door. It fell shut with a bang that was echoing down the hallway.

But what made your freeze wasn’t the sound. No. It was the person standing next to the door: Taehyung, looking at you with ruby red eyes.

And it was at this very moment, that you knew you were screwed thoroughly. Even though his pose was casual, leaning against the wall, his set jaw gave him away.

“How- How did you get here? You were there and now you are here and..” you trailed off. As much as Taehyungs appearance unnerved you, the fact that he had come here from the dining room so quickly was sparking your curiosity. He said nothing, instead an amused smirk grazed his features. His smugness pissed you off.

“You had to pass me in order to be here earlier than me, but you didn’t. So, why the hell are you here. How is this possible?!” you tried again. But Taehyung remained silent, watching you with his red eyes.

Then suddenly: “You can’t leave.”

“Wha-“

Something about the simplicity of his statement, the way he said it so casual made you angry. Not only had he ignored you questions completely, he also had no right to determine where you went and what you did. Clenching your fists, you straightened yourself. “That is not your place to decide.” You nearly yelled, barely able to hold your voice down.

“I make the rules here, Y/N.” Taehyung growled.

The sound was so deep that it nearly sounded inhuman. He pushed himself off the wall. His movement made you flinch backwards. You felt like a helpless prey waiting for its attacker to make a move.

No.

You will not be that stupid prey waiting until it is to late! You needed to get out of here, screw your phone and purse. You made towards the door. Before your hand even could as much as touch the doorknob, Taehyung grabbed your left wrist, spinning you around. He pushed you backwards until your back slammed against the door. The sharp pain shooting up your spine made you dizzy and before you could register anything else, Taehyungs large hands came up next to your head. His body was close yet not touching yours. Not that it made any difference as you felt like your heart would jump out of your chest any moment. You could feel him leaning in until his breath was ghosting over your ear.

“Listen carefully princess: You’re mine now and you will stay where I can protect you.” He whispered and you could hear the edge to his voice as if he was holding himself back. Wanting to object you opened your mouth. But then you noticed Taehyungs eyes: They were wild, shining with such a deep red that they seemed like a raging fire. He was furious, you could tell. It probably was not a good idea to object, but you where way to proud to back down now.

“I can’t recall ever agreeing to be yours, Taehyung.” You whispered, trying to keep your voice from shaking. He didn’t need to know how scared you were.

Partly, you had expected him to get even more angry, maybe even wanted to test what he would do. But what he did next definitely took you by surprise: You felt his long fingers curving around your chin tilting it upwards slightly. The grip was light, and he leaned in until his lips where hovering over yours. His lips were soft and gentle when they touched yours, a stark contrast to his previous behavior. Your eyes fell shut involuntarily and you could feel yourself giving in to the kiss. You wanted to punch him for his audacity to just kiss you like that, but instead the kiss felt right. Like you had wanted him to kiss you since you saw him this morning.

“You don’t need to agree. Deep down you know that you became mine already.”  He murmured against you lips. You felt like in a daze, trying hard to rummage your brain for something smart to say.

When he leaned back you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you Taehyung. I am going to stay for some more time, okay? “

Taehyung examined your face for a moment. His thumb caressed your cheek softly.

“I know baby.” He hummed. With that he stepped back, reestablishing the space between your bodies.

“You can change your cloths and wash up if you want. Maybe you will find something you like in the wardrobe behind your bed.” He gestured towards a plain door on the wall next to the bed you hadn’t noticed before.

“The bathroom is opposite of your room. You will find everything you need in there.”

Halfway opening the door, he halted, giving you a hard look. “If you try running again, let me tell you that I have been nice until now.” Gulping, you nodded. He didn’t need to tell you twice. You had no interest in finding out what an even angrier Taehyung would do.

________________________________________________

The room behind the bed was indeed a huge walk-in closet. It contained various cloth in all different kinds of styles. The only thing they had in common was that they looked extremely expensive.  You had settled for something you felt most comfortable in: a blue ripped jeans and a oversized gray sweater.

Opposite of the room you found the promised bathroom. It was spacious like all the rooms you had seen in this building so far. Furniture and decorations were of a warm crème and the floor lined with sandy marble. In one corner of the room, a bathtub was let into a platform. Pillars supported the slightly narrower celling above the tub. Two mirrors lined the walls: one above a marble panel with a sink and the other in front of a table with a chair. Another door led into a tiny room with a toilet.

Not trusting Taehyung and his sudden appearances, you found yourself checking if the door was locked three times before you let the water run into the tube. The steady flow of the water and your breathing were the only sounds filling the room. Sitting down on the rim of the bath platform, you let your thoughts wander.

The kiss had been so sudden.

Absently, you let your finger run over your lips.

After his aggressive behavior you hadn’t expected him to be that gentle. Still, he shouldn’t have that kind of power over you. Your old anger flared back up along with a feeling of deep disgust about how easily you had given in. You should have continued to fight, pushed him away as he tried to kiss you. Instead you had let him, worse even returned the kiss!

Also, what had happened with his eyes? Somehow you felt like you had seen the change of color in them before. This deep ruby red color, and the sound he had made when you had said that he did not own you. In addition to that, the way Taehyung had appeared in the bedroom, suddenly. You had no logical explanation for that. Well, at least no other than that this man was indeed not human.

Despite the warm temperature in the room, goosebumps rose across your skin. What were you doing here? You should run, get away from this place and even more importantly, from this man! He was dangerous, this much you could tell.

“Deep down you know that you that you became mine already.” Taehyung had said. You started shaking and brought up your arms to hug yourself. He had to be wrong, right? There was no way you would stay. Even if you had said so, that had been only to calm him down, right?

Yes! It had to be! You would play his game, as long as you needed to, in order to figure out how you could get out of here. Right now, you had no doubt that he would do something terrible if you tried to leave. You would have to be patient and wait for the right moment.

The burbling noise of the water hitting the spillway ripped you out of your thoughts. Maybe a hot bath would ease the nausea in the pit of your stomach. You dove into the tub so fast that the sudden difference in temperature almost burned you. The light sting, however, was a welcome sensation that halted your thoughts successfully. The shampoo that stood next to the bathtub smelled neutral with a hint of macadamia nut. It was a pleasant smell and you found yourself wondering if Taehyung knew about your shampoo scent preferences or if he had just been lucky with the selection.

You almost didn’t want to leave the warm water. It was so cozy and when you closed your eyes you could pretend you were at home, soaking in your own bathtub. You lived alone so most likely nobody would miss you there. But your friends must be worried sick. You were not sure how much time had passed but most likely they would go to the police sooner or later. At least you hoped they would. Even though nothing bad had happened to you yet, besides Taehyung losing his temper, which could happen again anytime. Pushing yourself upwards you exited the bathtub. Off the chair next to the platform you grabbed a towel. As soon as you started to dry yourself, you could not shake the feeling that someone was watching you.

You were getting paranoid.

Still, you turned around. And flinched: A man was leaning in the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on you. Hurriedly you tried to wrap the towel around you as best as you could. He seemed a few years younger than Taehyung, round doe eyes of a soft brown color featuring his face. His black hair was the same length as Taehyungs, falling over his forehead in slight curls. If it hadn’t been for the disgusting smirk that graced his lips, you would have described him as cute. He was wearing yeans and a simple black t-shirt. The tight fabric of it, highlighting every muscle on his upper body. You could feel yourself staring. Tearing your eyes of the sight you exclaimed:

“How the hell did you get in here?!” You had locked the door. You were sure of it. But right now, it was standing open, the gap letting in a draft of cold air.

“I do live here. And as far as I’m concerned, I can go where I want in my own home.” He grinned, his eyes running up and down your body. You felt awfully exposed in front of him. Pulling your towel even tighter you gave him a hard look.

“So, you are Taehyungs new plaything I guess.” He noted looking unimpressed. “I don’t really understand him sometimes. You are not even that pretty.”

“What the-“

Anger came rushing back to you, replacing the shame of standing nearly naked in front of a total stranger. “Who do you think you are, that you can talk to me like that?!” you snapped.

Raising an eyebrow, he chuckled lowly. “You’re a sassy one, huh? Well, that’s a first.”

“Name is Jungkook by the way. And don’t feel too special just because Tae choose you. He will grow tired of you pretty soon.” he continued. “Also, when he does, I’m pretty sure we can have some fun together as well.”

That was it.

Your frustration over the situation that you were in, how powerless you felt against Taehyung, all coming together. Causing your last string of patience to tear. You turned to your left, grabbed one of the porcelain shampoo bottles and threw it.

“Shut Up!” you cried.

However, the bottle didn’t hit him like you had hoped. Seemingly effortless Jungkook caught the bottle with one hand. For a brief second his eyes flickered red, annoyance passing through them.

“You are definitely more interesting than I first thought.” Jungkook mused. Leaving the doorway, he took a few steps into your direction. You, on the other hand retreated further into the room until your feet hit the platform of the bathtub. Realizing you could not put any more distance between you and Jungkook you swallowed nervous. You still were angry, but your senses also tingled with a hit of fear.

Before Jungkook could close the distance between the two of you, a hand came around his shoulder stopping him.

“Leave her alone Kook.”

Whoever was behind Jungkook had the voice of an angel you concluded. Or maybe it was just your relive about someone stopping Jungkook from coming any closer.

The raven-haired man shrugged off the hand. Jungkook stepped to the side, revealing a man, at least a head shorter than him. However, he was no less attractive than Jungkook. Bubblegum pink hair framed a round face with full lips and warm, kind eyes. Those eyes were fixed on Jungkook with a hard look of disapproval.

“If Tae finds out you are here, you will be in trouble.” he warned.

“As if I care what Taehyung knows. He can’t tell me what to do!” Jungkook scoffed.

Pulling a grimace, he turned around and started to stalk out of the room. He stopped shortly, placing a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. Leaning in, Jungkook whispered so low that you could barely hear him: “Better be careful with giving me orders. I will not hold back just because you are older, Jimin.”

Without waiting for a reply Jungkook left. You blinked a couple of times, trying to comprehend the weird tension that had just crackled between the two of them. Jimin also seemed spaced out for a moment before he turned towards the door, giving you privacy.

“I’m sorry about Jungkooks behavior.” He apologized. “I will be leaving now and don’t worry, nobody else will bother you. I will see to that!” and so Jimin left as well, closing the door after him.

You waited for another minute before you let yourself relax. Even though Jimin seemed nice, you didn’t trust him. Nobody in this house seemed to be trustworthy at this point. You wondered how many other people were living here.

Your body had already air-dried, thanks to the time spent with Jungkooks and Jimin’s sudden appearance. Only needing to rub your hair a couple of times, it was dry as well.

After slipping into the new cloth you looked around for a hairbrush. Finding one on-top of the mirror-table, you tried to tame your long hair. It was difficult to brush through since you had only ruffled it dry with the towel.

Even though you hadn’t taken Jungkooks comment about your appearance too personal, it made you check your appearance in the mirror a couple of times. Only after you felt like you looked some-what presentable, you gathered you old clothing and left the bathroom.

________________________________________________

Already on your way across the hall, faint piano tunes grazed your ear. You hurried back into your room to drop off your old clothing.

It was not even a minute later, that you found yourself following the music down the hall. On your left, a huge hall with two broad staircases winding along opposite walls, opened up. Landings on either side were connected to other corridors, indicating that the hallway spun over at least three levels.

Slowly you went down the stairs on the left side, letting your hand run over the ornate black iron fence that railed them. Everything seemed old but so well intact that you wondered how long Taehyung and the others had been living here.

The white walls were decorated with sculptures and pillars. Two large chandeliers hung above your head, casting shimmering dots of light on wall and floor. You were mesmerized by the sight, the low music only adding to the feeling.

On the ground level you realized that the music was louder now, coming from behind a heavy wooden door. The tall door was located directly beneath the top of the stairs and measured at least twice your height. Reaching for the handle you hesitated: were you allowed to go in there? And if not where else should you go? Taehyung had not said anything about where to go after you were done with washing up. Also, Jimin and Jungkook had given you no clue about what to do or were to go.

Gathering your courage, you shoved the door open.

The room you found yourself in was cozy despite its size. The walls were decorated with dark wooden panels, the one opposite of the door showcasing a huge window looking out onto the park. Heavy red curtains framed it. The marble floor was a mix of white and black tiles, visible where the ancient carpet did not cover them. In one corner of the room stood two sofas with red cushions. In comparison to the hall, the air in the room was warm and smelled of old wood. In the corner opposite to the sofa, a piano was placed. Behind it sat Jimin, completely absorbed in the music. His hands were dancing over the keys with great speed. The situation gave you the chance to study him more closely. His skin was perfect and smooth, just like Taehyungs. He was slim, almost fragile looking. With each move he made the black silk shirt he wore flowed down his body. Jimin was beautiful. Compared to Taehyungs cold and proud beauty, Jimin seemed to glow making a smile tug at the corner of your lips.  How was everyone you had seen in this house so far, prettier than any other male acquaintance of yours? Was it because they were wealthy? No, you weren’t that shallow. Also, Jimin had the same dark eyes as Jungkook and Taehyung. Would they change their color as well when he was annoyed or angry?

Unknowingly, you had wandered into the room, now standing right next to the piano. Jimin had finished the piece and beamed at you. “You’re here!”

Jumping up, he took your hand squeezing it gently. “I’m Park Jimin! It’s so nice to meet you!”

Reluctantly you curved your fingers around his, returning the squeeze. If Jimin had registered your hesitation he didn’t show it. Instead he continued to smile at you so warmly that you started to relax slightly. “My name is Y/N.” you replied slowly while letting go of is hand.

“Okay, Y/N it is. I want to show you something.” he continued lightly.

His hand coming back to your wrist, he tugged at it slightly. “Follow me.”

The sudden touch on your wrist reminded you of what had happened earlier. Taehyung slamming you into the wall, caging you with his tall body. The fear you had felt before rushing back to you with such intensity that you felt yourself flinch. Jimin’s face dropped and he frowned.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t know what Taehyung did to you, but I promise you I’m nothing like him.”[HR1] 

The sad expression on his face made you feel bad in an instant.

“No no, it’s nothing like that!” you tried to clarify. “It’s just… You surprised me, that’s all..”

Furrowing his brows, he nodded. “Okay, but if he does anything bad, tell me. I can talk to him, we are friends.”

“Thanks, Jimin.” You said, smiling a little. “So, what did you wanted to show me?”

Being reminded of his previous idea his face lid up again: “Oh right! Follow me! Its right behind this door!”

You chuckled lowly to yourself. Jimin was adorable. There was a light bounce in his step as he turned towards the door next to the piano. He seemed so excited to show you what was behind it.

And what was lying behind the door indeed made your jaw drop: as far as you could see were books. Stuffed into shelves, climbing up to the high celling, in piles on the floor or opened on a specific page on one of the desks. The musty smell of old paper filled the air. You felt your cheeks burn with happiness.

“Can- Can I look at them?” you blurted out.

“That’s kind off why I brought you here. Just don’t touch any of the ones on the floor. Taehyung is spending a lot of time here and I wouldn’t want to mess up his organized chaos.” Jimin giggled. He seemed almost as excited about your reaction as you felt towards the books.

You started walking along the shelves, each of your steps making the old floorboards that covered the floor creak. Lifting your hand, you let it trace over the spine of the books: Some of them were old, being leather bound and the gold lettering on them faded into nothing. Others were brand new.

“How is it possible for one man to collect this many books?” you wondered out loud.

“Well, Taehyung had a lot of time at his hands.”

That sounded like a lot if he had that many books. Slowly you turned around to look at the other boy.

“How much exactly? How old is Taehyung, Jimin?” you breathed.

The pink haired boy shot you an apologetic smile: “I fear, that is not my secret to tell Y/N.”

His response didn’t reassure you at all. Quite the opposite.

“Come on Jimin, you can’t leave me hanging like that!” you tried to joke.

Jimin was visibly uncomfortable, shuffling his feet. “I’m really sorry Y/N, but I really can’t tell you more.”

You let out a long sigh while checking Jimin’s face for any reaction. His lips were shut in a tight line while his gaze was fixed on the floor. His abjective posture made you change the topic:

“Is it okay for me to take something to read?”

Lifting his head Jimin’s eyes found yours. “Sure, choose anything you like! You can take it to the living room with you.” He now beamed. “If you need anything just find me at the piano.”

You nodded absently, attention already returned to the books in front of you. A few words creating whole worlds you could lose yourself in. Ink on paper, coming to live with nothing more than your fantasy. Looking at the shelves you were overwhelmed with the choices. There was basically everything from science over novels to poetry. You tried looking for a title that sparked your curiosity.

You settled for a thin volume of poems by an author called “The Raven”. The cover was of a simple black with white bold letters reading “Eclipse” and the pages were worn out in the corners.

You noticed that Jimin had indeed resumed playing the piano. The soft tunes floated into the library, getting lost in the high celling. You followed them back into the living room. Jimin acknowledged you with a smile and short nod before he concentrated onto the piece again. Cuddling into the plush sofa-cushions you opened the book and began to read.

A few pages in, a door on your left opened revealing a grim looking Jungkook. You tried not to pay him any mind. The handsome man however had other plans: he gave you a once-over, quirking one eyebrow. “Huh. If you had to change your clothing it could have at least been something nice. You look like a bum.”

His remark stung but after all you hadn’t tried to dress up but to feel comfortable. “Jimin, is he always that charming?” you mused.

The pink haired boy gave a low chuckle. “Pretty much.”

“I can be charming if I want. I’m just not in the mood to play nice.” Jungkook shrugged, letting himself drop onto the sofa next to you. His eyes then fell onto the book in your lab. “U reading?”

You shot him a hostile glance: “I was, before you decided to get on my nerves.” Sure, that he would have a petty remark you looked at him expectantly already plotting a smart reply. But there was no remark coming from Jungkook. Instead his gaze had snapped to Jimin who’s face had taken on an awfully pale color.

“He- He’s back.” Jimin whispered. You could feel Jungkook balling his hands into fists next to you, his whole body tense. While Jungkooks posture screamed anger, Jimin had made himself so small that he seemed like if he wanted to disappear. You looked between the two of them.

“Who-“

Before you could finish your sentence the large door that lead into the hallway swung open. Coming in with large steps was a tall man. A big grin showed on his beautiful face that was framed by short brown hair. The man’s clothing looked even more expensive than Taehyungs had earlier. His long shelved dress shirt was the same color as his pants, a light crème that was glowing on the satin fabric. In the V-shape of his shirt multiple tightly wrung necklaces were visible. They were gold, complementing his brown hair and white skin. On each finger he was wearing a ring, one looking more exquisite than the other. Opening his arms wide he stepped into the middle of the living room, twirling around himself once.

“Hello my friends! Have you missed me?” he smiled so broad that it made a shudder run down your spine at how fake it all looked.

“Welcome home Hoseok.” You heard Jimin’s quite voice coming from behind Jungkook, who had at some point positioned himself between Hoseok, and Jimin. The raven-haired boy however remained quiet, following Hoseok’s every movement with watchful eyes.  

Hoseok’s gaze swept over the two of them with a belittling smile until it settled on you. The gaze was so intense that you felt yourself getting up from the sofa.

“Well who are - you?”, he inquired, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. His eyes shone of a longing you couldn’t quite place. Not knowing how to reply to that you just stared at him stupidly. His eyes were glued to your face, or was it your neck? You tried to suppress a shiver.

You wanted to tell him to stare elsewhere but you didn’t trust your voice. Instead you pressed your lips together not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing them tremble. Because even if you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared. Not only Hoseok’s appearance itself was intimidating, no, also the effect his arrival had on Jungkook and Jimin was so immense that your instincts were screaming at you to keep it down and to not attract any more attention to you then necessary.

“You smell so delicious darling. Where did you come from?” he whispered in awe licking his lips. Crooking his head to the side he came a step closer.

“I would leave her alone if I were you.” Jungkook’s sharp voice drifted to your ear. 

Your head snapped to the side looking and the raven haired with wide eyes. Hoseok stopped dead in his tracks as well. Slowly he turned around, eyes fixing on Jungkook. Now that he had the newcomer’s attention, he raised his chin defiantly, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as if he was trying to suppress a smirk. You drew in a breath, waiting for Hoseok’s reaction. Hoseok’s face was expressionless, but his fingers were playing with his rings absently while he was looking and Jungkook. Then he lifted one of his hands, draping over his mouth as he gasped dramatically: “Oh no! I’m so scared, what will happen to me if I don’t! Please spare me great master Jungkook!”

Seemingly being the only one who found the situation funny he tripled over with laughter. You blinked, irritated. Jungkook had tensed even more while Jimin was staring holes into the ground, his small frame barely visible behind the tall and strong raven-haired man. His left hand was fisted into Jungkooks t-shirt so tightly, that his knuckles had turned white.

Fake wiping tears of laugher out of his eyes Hoseok turned back towards you. Amusement still played on his face. “You guys are so hilarious. I will go and see Taehyung to give him the new scoop.”

Waving his hand, he turned around to leave: “Have fun without me.”

And with that he was gone, leaving only the three of you standing in the room. Your heart was beating fast, adrenalin still rushing to your vines. You stared at the door that had just closed unseeingly. When Jimin exhaled loudly, the sudden sound made you jump, dropping the book you had still been holding onto the couch.

Jimin’s stiff posture had relaxed slightly. Jungkook turned to the side so he could look at the pink haired man. “Are you okay?” he inquired, eyes searching Jimin’s face. Worry was laced in his voice. The smaller man just nodded, letting his hand drop from Jungkooks shirt. Lifting his head Jimin and Jungkooks gaze met.

You knew you were spying in on an intimate moment, but you couldn’t avert your eyes from the two other men. The way they were looking at each other was so intense, their proximity closer than you would have felt comfortable with either of them. From your previous impression you wouldn’t have guessed that Jungkook would be so worried over Jimin. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad person after all.

Gripping Jimin’s shoulder Jungkook leaned forward until his forehead leaned against the smaller man’s, almost closing the space that was left between them. Jimin had closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

Suddenly you felt alone. This wasn’t something you were supposed to see. You turned away, silently making your way to the library.

“Y/N wait.” Jimin’s soft voice called.

Apparently, you hadn’t been quite enough for them not to notice you. Jimin was walking towards you, while Jungkook was still next to the piano, leaning against the wall. His eyes were watching you, slightly narrowed.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Jimin questioned.

“Me? Well, yes I’m fine.” You lied smoothly. Something inside you was sulking like a child. You didn’t want Jimin to know that Hoseok had scared the shit out of you. Didn’t want him to know that their intimacy had made you feel like you were all alone in this world. But you couldn’t bring yourself to snap at Jimin. This wasn’t his fault after all.

So instead, you added: “But what about you? You were white as a sheet earlier.”

“Uhm.. you see…” Jimin stuttered, his small hands playing with the fabric of his silk shirt.

“He is fine. There is no need to worry.” Jungkook chipped in. He was strolling towards the two of you now, his posture casual but gaze disapproving.

For the love of god, couldn’t he leave you alone for one second?

“Bu-“ you opened your mouth to tell Jungkook to shut up, but Jimin interrupted you. “It’s okay Y/N. You really don’t need to worry about me. Hoseok is just a bit difficult sometimes.”

Now Jimin refused to talk to you as well? Being all trusting and lovey dovely with Jungkook but lying straight to your face? That stung, harder that you had expected.

“A bit difficult?!” you exclaimed loudly.  “Are you guys all nuts? You were fucking terrified of him! He looked at me like he wanted to eat me as a whole and you call him a bit difficult?!” You threw up your arms.

“You know what Jimin? Fuck this. You guys don’t want to tell me shit and I am so done playing your stupid games. I’m out!”

Jimin’s eyes widened at your outburst and hurt flashed over his face. His bottom lip quavered. “I-“

A low growl made your gaze flicker to Jungkook.

“Don’t. You. Ever. talk to Jimin like that again!”, he hissed as his arm came up to give your shoulder a hard shove, away from Jimin. Stumbling backwards you were able to take a hold of the library door, successfully toning down your fall. Still, the impact made you flinch, reminding you of who you were dealing with. That you were not Jimin, who he would play nice with. No, Jungkook was towering over you, his gaze cold and calculating. Your previous anger was slowly replaced by fear and despair. You stood no chance against him.

“Come on Jimin, let’s go...” Jungkook snorted. He grabbed Jimin’s wrist, walking towards the door Hoseok had vanished through earlier. Yanking on the pink haired boy’s arm, Jimin stumbled after him while he shot you one last sad glance.

The door fell shut with a loud bang, leaving you alone on the cold marble floor. The sound echoing in the library behind you.  You brought up your legs, draping your arms around them. Letting your head fall on your knees you closed your eyes.

You were stupid.

You had just squandered your one chance to get out of here. Jimin had been the only one friendly to you so far and you had yelled at him. And for what? A stupid sense of envy.

Who would help you now?

Nobody.

You were all alone…

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Rain, Rain, Go Away (Part 3)

*Not My Gif*

Part 1 Part 2

Paring: Barry Allen X Reader

Word Count: 2145

Post Date: 5-20-19

A/N: Part 3! I hope you guys enjoy this! I was just going to end it with this one but the ending (not going to spoil it if you’re reading this before) is kind of abrupt, so if you guys want a part 4, I’ll write one! Just let me know! Send me in requests, also be sure to like, reblog, and comment on this! I live on all your feedback! Thanks for reading! Love you all!

-​Ria

~Master List~

~Open Requests~

“You’re just trusting me? With your identity? Dude’s right, 20 minutes ago I was just trying to kill you.” You say as you nod your head in the direction of the long-haired man. Your mind was still reeling from your latest robbery gone wrong, you hadn’t expected your day to turn out like this. You hadn’t expected your life to turn out like this. You had a job, you had a sister, you had a life, and now? Now you had none of that. Except now you knew who the Flash was, and for some reason you didn’t care. He was a person, just like you. Your sights remained on Barry as his on you, both blushing a little but refusing to turn away. Cisco watched the awkward (yet he had to admit you both looked comfortable) exchange, feigning a cough to draw your attention away.

“I’m Cisco and that’s Caitlin, nice to meet you. You’re not evil, right?” Cisco asks a little annoyed at how easily Barry trusted you, unsure as to why. The truth was that Barry had no idea why he pulled off his mask. Something about you had made him tell you his most coveted secret, and he doesn’t even seem to regret it. You glanced up to Cisco watching as he sat in his chair, not really sure how to answer that question. “I mean, we know what you’ve done but you’re not going to try and kill us all right?” he asks causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Cisco…” the woman said, causing Cisco to groan in frustration.

“I’m just asking! Barry literally just dropped the ball and told her who he is! I’m just making sure she’s not some evil mastermind!” He defends, sticking his hands into the air in surrender, giving you a slight smirk. You couldn’t help but let out an airy chuckle at his remark.

“I’m not evil. I promise. And I don’t care about who he is. I might’ve been fighting him a while ago, but he’s Central City’s hero. I wouldn’t take him away from those who need saving.” Your voice became quiet as you looked at your fingers, feeling the leather of your blue jacket on them. Barry eyes you with wonder, thinking back on the fight, how vulnerable you felt.

“Guy’s could you give us a minute?” Barry asks before nodding at his friends, who reluctantly left you two alone. “Y/N… during our fight, you mentioned someone, a girl, a girl who you said you couldn’t save? Who, uh, who-o is she?” Barry knelt in front of you, his hand on your knee, drawing your eyes to it, his face watching yours, seeing the small pool of tears about to fall, but just hanging on. Your eyes flickered to his before you grabbed his hand on your knee, holding onto it for a few lingering seconds as you stand up.

“My sister. Her name’s Kenna. She’s… she’s dying, she’s in a coma at Central City Hospital. I can’t save her, nothing I can do can save her.” You say turning around to face Barry, your hand rubbing up your arm into your shoulder as you cross the other over your chest as if to protect you. Protect you from what, who knows. Maybe your feelings, maybe from knowing Kenna’s dying, maybe from the fact that you’re just openly sharing all this with a complete stranger.

“I’m sorry.” Barry hums glancing at your troubled face and glossy eyes, feeling the need to make you feel better but unsure how. You roll your eyes at him while you smirk at his comment.

“Don’t apologize, Barry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You giggled. Barry tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat as him name rolled off your tongue. He liked how you said it, how it sounded, and he loved the little laugh you had. He hoped he would always be able to hear it, that you would never stop. He chuckled as you made eye contact once again, a lot closer than you thought you were. You held your gaze your (e/c) eyes staring into his as he smiled, a warm smile that brought you hope. But you knew all to well that hope and reality don’t belong in the same world. You took a step back, coughing as you pulled your face down again, your fingers once again absentmindedly playing with your jacket.

“Y/N, what can we do to help?” he asks watching you with curiosity.

“Nothing. You can’t do anything. No one can. I’m losing her.” You give him one last look before you start towards the door. “Thanks for calming me down Barry. I needed it. I really did.” Barry saw you walk towards the door and without thinking he run to it, stopping in the door frame causing you to run right into him and fall, but Barry was quick to stick his hand out catching you before pulling you into his embrace on accident. Your face was mere inches from his, your eyes staring up into his once again as your cheeks darken. You could’ve pulled away, but you didn’t, he felt familiar. He felt… he felt like home.

“Could you take me home Barry?” you mumble, afraid to break these feelings but to tired to be anywhere else. Barry nods his head before picking you up bridle style. You direct him to your apartment and open the door, inviting him in. “It isn’t much, but it’s enough.” You plop down on the couch as Barry picks up a picture on your table.

“Is this her?” He questions as he shows you the picture. You nod your head as you take it, smiling at the frame, remembering the moment fondly.

“Yeah that’s her. It was taken last year after the particle accelerator exploded. She had just gotten her drivers licenses. She was so happy. She kept claiming that she didn’t like when I drove her, saying I drive like a mad woman, but I know she liked it because it meant she was growing up. And that scared me. You know, she was always my little sister. My annoying, smartass little sister, but she was mine. And I was hers. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. Then everything went to shit.” You said nodding your head, eyes locked on the prominent smile in Kenna’s face, “Our parents died soon after, I became her legal guardian, even though sometimes it felt like he was taking better care of me. I spiraled, and she was there to pick me up. I didn’t even have to ask her too. She just did. She was my best friend.” You laughed as you wiped away a stray tear before handing it back to him to put back.

“She sounded amazing. I am really sorry, Y/N. About everything.”

“Barry, I already told you! You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you didn’t do anything wrong!” you yelled as you threw back your head in laughter. Barry looked amazed at you, asking you how you could laugh like that seconds after a moment like that.

“She’s not dead not. And until then, I’m not going to sit here and cry. Well anymore than I have.” You give him a weak smile as you let out a yawn, Barry yawning as well after smiling back.

“You’re tired. I should go. But before I do, what do you say about being part of team Flash? We could use someone with your powers.” He gives you a pleading look as you pretend to think about it, as if you would actually say no.

“I would love to Barry. Maybe I could actually save somebody. Here, my phone number, let me know about the team.” You hand him a piece a paper you ripped with your number scrawled across it. He takes the paper before giving you one last smile.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Night Barry.” When he left you crawled out on the couch, grabbing the picture frame and pulling it into you, giving it one last look before you drifted of into a sleep, thinking about the last few hours.

Barry headed into the cortex, choosing to walk instead of run, a ghost of a smile on his face as you lingered on his thoughts. He still had no idea why you enchanted him as much as you had but he didn’t mind, you made him happy in the little time he’s known you. He was so encased in his thoughts he hadn’t heard Cisco trying to get his attention since he’s walked in.

“Sorry” he mumbles when he realizes he was being called. Cisco and Caitlin share an amused expression before Caitlin decides to speak up.

“Where did you two head off to?” she asks eyebrows raised. Barry blushed under her gaze.

“She was tired, so I took her home. Got to talking a little, that’s all.” The smile on his face made them think otherwise but nether one of them questioned it. The smile lasted only a few seconds before alarms in the room started going crazy.

“What’s wrong?!” Barry yelled as Cisco and Caitlin looked at the computer screen.

“It’s Y/N! Storms are everywhere, People are getting hurt everywhere. What’s she doing?” Caitlin said as she flipped through the screen of damages done already. Barry didn’t know what happen, 30 minutes ago you were fine and now you creating chaos like your world ended and that’s when it hit him.

“Her sister… Cisco can you pull up hospital records. Anything on Kenna Y/L/N.” Barry turned around to watch as Cisco pulled up her records. But one stuck out, the most recent.

“Oh no…” Barry said as he sped of towards your apartment, leaving a confused Cisco and Caitlin reading the record of a recently deceased girl.

As Barry got closer the storm got worse, him slipping every few seconds but determined to get to you. To save you. When he got to your apartment he knocked on the door, but when no one answered he barged in, breaking the door from its frame.

“Y/N!” He shouted as he ran around your apartment, only finding the broken picture frame and your phone, both of which you threw against the wall when you got the call. The call that had ended your hope, bringing you back into reality. And like you realized earlier with Barry, hope and reality don’t belong in the same world. The rain outside the window grew greater and Barry knew you were somewhere in the building, and he had the perfect idea where. He ran up onto the roof, finally seeing your (h/c) hair, drenched in the rain as you screamed. Barry’s heart sank at the sight of you on your knees, screaming on the rooftop but not being heard over the storm surrounding you. He ran up to you, pulling you up as you turned around and punched an old metal container beside you, your knuckles becoming bloody after the first blow, but it didn’t deter you as you kept punching. The container kept denting as you hit it, causing you to want to continue. Barry grabbed your wrist, stopping your motions and pulling your attention to him. Your bloodshot eyes and bloody hands scared him, not because you looked crazy but because Barry found himself caring for you, and seeing you like this hurt him. He pulled you into his body, his hand cradling your head into his chest.

“She’s gone Barry! She was all I had left and now she’s gone! And I’m all alone! She’s gone and I’m all alone!” You scream clinging onto him with everything left in you. Barry felt something in him break, he’s known you for a few hours, but he knows he never wanted to see you like this, this broken.

“You’re not alone. I’m right here. Cisco a-and Caitlin, everyone, they are here for you!” Pulling you out of the hug, rain falling onto both of your skin, drenching you. His hand moves to your cheek, rubbing the area right under your eye. “You are not alone.” He whispers as he pulls your lips into his, you melt into the kiss, all the sadness you felt flying away at the warm and loving contact of his lips. Your hand finds its way to the nape of his neck, the other crawling into his hair as his is on your waist and the other traveling down to your back, pulling you into his embrace. Your breath was rugged when you separated, only for his to go back for another light peck, catching your lip with his.

“Promise me… Promise me you won’t leave me? Please?” you whisper, eyes cast onto the ground. Barry’s hand finds your chin as he pulls your eyes up, smiling down at you.

“I Promise.”

[weepingvoidpenguin]

I’ll Help You

PART 2

Summary: Carlton Drake has officially crossed the line in terms of morale and humanity. He’s threatened your boss, Dr. Skirth, to manipulate her into staying with the project just as he’s manipulated all the victims he’s putting at risk to further his own twisted research. And once you witness a man die right in front of you because of it, you couldn’t continue on. Shamefully enough, you’re too scared to leave, you know how Carlton is and it terrified you to no end so when Dr. Skirth comes up with the idea to involve and ex investigative journalist, your desperation get the better of you and you agree to tag him along. You find yourself spending more and more time with him until it seems like you can’t pry yourself away and he grows increasingly protective of you when you vulnerably express your fears to him.

Warnings: Swearing . . . that’s about it for now

Word Count: 3,259

Part 1

  After receiving the call from Eddie you immediately called Dora, letting her know of his decision. He’d told you to meet him at his place and you would go from there. 

   You hopped out of bed and threw on a pair of leggings, black, a long sleeved t-shirt, again, black, and your shoes, wow, even more black. If you were being honest with yourself, adrenaline was starting to coarse through you and you liked it. This scandalous, technical, breaking and entering past hours with intentions to make Carlton Drake crash and burn was thrilling. 

   You pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket and sent Dora the address to Eddie’s apartment before heading there yourself. You’d only lived a few blocks down but BOY the difference in neighborhood those blocks made. Your apartment was decent, cozy cottage-like feeling to it and the outside wasn’t too shabby either. It was in a pretty good neighborhood with relatively happy people. You knew most of your neighbors and weren’t afraid to speak to them when you saw them in the halls. 

   You walked the distance from your place to Eddie’s letting the cold of the wind settle into your bones by the time you got there. Your teeth clattered against each other and the loose strands of your hair flailed and slapped against your face. You turned your back towards the wind and hugged yourself for additional warmth. It’d been significantly warmer earlier in the day when you’d asked Eddie for help but now, hours later, the temperature must have dropped almost twenty degrees. 

   You checked your surroundings before pulling out your phone and dialing Dora’s number again. 

   “Hey, are you almost here?” you asked once she’d picked up.

   “I’m still sneaking out of the house, I’ll try to be there as soon as possible,” she responded.

    You told her it was fine and hung up then kept your hands tucked in your pockets, trying to avoid exposing them to the freezing wind. You lightly bounced in your spot, moving just enough to hopefully produce more warmth and fight off the cold making its way to the core of your being. Your arms stiffened and your body tightened once the tips of your fingers began to go numb.

   Would it be awkward to wait for Dr. Skirth in Eddie’s apartment? Would he even invite you in if you asked? You didn’t think he was a bad guy but you would gladly freeze to death before facing the awkward tension of strangers conversing for the first time. 

   So you stayed put in your spot right outside his doorway. Hoping, more like praying, that Dr. Skirth would show up any second and offer you the warmth of her car. 

   But when you could barley move your fingers due to their stiffness, you tapped out. Your heels dug into your shoes as you rushed over to the door and looked for Eddie’s apartment number before pressing it with the backside of your wrist.

   “Hello?” You heard a gruffy voice speak after the buzz sounded.

   “Mr. Brock?” You asked but didn’t wait for confirmation, “It’s (Y/N), Dr. Skirth’s running a little late and I didn’t bring a car so I was wondering if I could.. um... come up for a second?” 

   You stood there, in the cold, waiting for him to make up his mind and after a few seconds, the front door buzzed open and you grabbed the handle through your jacket and slung the door open. The first thing this shabby looking place offered you was mediocre warmth, and you were gladly taking it in. The tips of your nose, ears and fingers ached with pain as they regained feeling and you ignored it as much as you could as you ascended the elevator up to Eddie’s apartment.

   The ding of the elevator and the sound of the doors sliding to reveal a dimly lit hallway made your heart catch in your throat. Why? You weren’t sure but taking those first few steps out and reading the numbers on the doors made your stomach drop the closer you became.

   You were almost at the end of the hallway when a door practically flew off its hinges and a girl, half dressed, like, literally she was still putting some of her clothes on, walked out. A man with what you could only describe as a beer belly and shaggy, somewhat majestic hair slapped her ass as she exited.

   You stepped to the side as she practically crawled past you and stuck as close to the opposing wall as you could. You kept your gaze glued on the floor, already knowing that Eddie’s apartment was across this guy’s own and slithered towards his door.

   Please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me.

   “You’re new,” the shaggy-haired man hiccupped.

   Fuck.

   You nodded your head softly and peered up, “Just visiting,”

   The drunk man scoffed a bit, “I didn’t know he had any friends, let alone a piece of ass like you,” 

   Your eyes widened and your knuckles almost punched against the door with Eddie’s apartment number on it, letting him know you had arrived.

   “Y’know,” he started, his breath vomit-inducing even with the few feet between you and his voice obnoxiously loud enough to make dogs down the street howl, “if he doesn’t get the job done you can head on over here and I’ll finish you for him,”

   You gulped and spun around, no longer wanting your exposed side to be facing this asshole. Now, if it hadn’t been for the fact that you thought, in his ridiculously drunken state, that he might actually harm you, you wouldn’t chewed this guy out left and right. You probably would’ve thrown in a few fuck off’s and shrimp dick every now and then but this dude was getting closer to you and you were already as plastered to Eddie’s door as you could get.

   You opened your mouth to respond when the solid frame of the door gave way and you tumbled backwards. Luckily, you made contact with another solid frame before you could fall on your ass. His chest was firm against your back and his hand holding your waist to keep you in place was supportive. But overall, he was warm and you couldn’t help but slink towards its source.

   You almost fluttered your eyes closed at the comfort the man behind you provided but the tension between the two neighbors kept you alert. Eddie’s hand slithered away from your waist and gripped onto your elbow, his breath blew a few strands of hair into your face but how warm it was against your ear and cheek caused you to accept it instead of fight it. 

   “You okay?” He whispered to you and you could swear you felt his lips graze your ear.

   You nodded slowly, pressing against him a little more just to create some distance between you and the drunken asshole. “Fine,” you responded.

   Eddie slowly took a step back and you almost whimpered when the warmth of his chest was no longer available for you, “Get inside,” he huffed and once you entered his apartment, he shut the door behind the two of you.

   “What a douche,” he whispered under his breath before eyeing you up and down, “Sorry about him, he doesn’t usually cause me too many problems but he’s never been a problem for guests.” He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck and with a meager smile muttered, “Probably because you’re the first,” 

   You put on a weak smile and nodded, “It’s okay, that’s probably the last time I’m gonna see that asshole,” (It’s not), “so hopefully no more situations like that,” (There will be).

   Eddie lightly chuckled and motioned you towards a seat at the island, “Sit, please.” He pulled out a chair for you to sit on and stood on the opposite side of the island.

   You trudged towards the seat and took your place before peering up at him. He seemed skittish, his hands rubbing together and his gaze everywhere except you.

   Aannnddd here’s the awkward silence that you were previously dreading.

   “So, it’s cold,” Eddie chirped up, seeing your nose and how red it still was.

   “As hell,” you responded then cocked your head to the side a bit, “which doesn’t make very much sense but you get what I mean,”

   He chuckled weakly but nodded all the same.

   “So,” you spoke up after a few more seconds of tension, “what made you give us a call?”

   His skittish behavior stopped and he stared down at the countertop, almost lost in a thought, “I had to check something first,”

   “And what did you have to check?” You asked, noticing his hesitation to continue but prying anyway.

   “I had to check with an old friend of mine.” he scoffed, “She was just reminding me that I had nothing left to lose,” the words dripped out of his mouth with a weight that you felt as though you had to hold.

   “I’m sorry,” you looked down at his folded hands on the countertop.

   “Nah, it’s fine. I had to make sure that chapter of my life was closed anyway, I wanted to see if I was ready for the next one,” his fingertips twitched and you looked up at him, noticing how he was watching you before awkwardly focusing back on his hands.

   “I mean about what Carlton did to you,” you said, “About what we’re doing to you,” you trailed off. 

   “Let’s get one thing straight,” his voice grew exponentially in volume, “no one’s forcing me to do this. This is what I do. I investigate. I call people out and report on wrongdoings. It’s who I am. I’m doing this because . . .” 

   You sat there, eyebrows raised and waiting for him to continue.

   “Because this is where the next chapter is taking me,” he finally finished.

   “So are you?” You asked, catching his attention.

   “Am I what?” 

   “Are you ready for the next chapter?” you unzipped the thin jacket and shimmied out of it once you felt warm enough. 

   Eddie stood up straight and just watched you. Watched as you slipped your arm out of each sleeve and tucked your hair behind your ear to get it out of the way, “Yeah,” he said, a soft smile on his face as he held his hand out to take the coat from you and hang it up, “I am,”

   He hung your coat up by the door and turned back towards you, “Now let’s talk about this Mr. Brock thing,” 

-

   Dr. Skirth called your cell phone about twenty minutes later. She was pulled up in front of the apartment and asking where you were.

   “We’re heading downstairs now.” You motioned towards Eddie, who had a stern talking with you about calling him Eddie and not Mr. Brock, and grabbed your coat off the rack.

   “We?” You heard Dr. Skirth ask incredulously over the phone.

   You broke out a false smile, as if she could see it, not wanting to repeat yourself because if you had it would sound like a big deal and it wasn’t. “Yes,” you drawled out.

   “(Y/N),” Dr. Skirth teased, making kissy noises over the phone as if we weren’t about to potentially die over letting Eddie into the Life Foundation.

   “We’ll see you down there,” you quickly said and hung up the phone. 

   “She’s outside?” Eddie asked.

   You nodded and walked over to the door, opening it slowly and hoping that one dude wasn’t there still. After checking if the coast was clear, you headed towards the elevator and waited ‘til Eddie locked everything up. He entered with you and you left the warm confines of the building momentarily to replace it with the warmth in Dora’s car. 

   Once in, you greeted Dora and she greeted Eddie, explaining that the plan was a simple ‘in and out’. Get Eddie in, let him take photos and then get him the fuck out without being caught, for all our sakes.

   You nodded in unison and put your seatbelt on before looking over at Dora and wondering why she hadn’t pulled away yet.

   “We?” she mouthed.

   You rolled your eyes jokingly, “Shut up,” you mouthed back.

-

   A few minutes later you were at the security gate of the Life Foundation. You checked in with Dora, giving the security guard your badge passes and without hesitation, he motioned for the two of you to be on your way. 

   The reality of what you were doing, and its potential consequences, were starting to get the better of you. What if you guys were discovered giving Eddie a front row seat to the inhumane things Drake was doing? You were sure a slap on the wrist wasn’t the worst he would do to you and knowing him, he’d make it slow and painful. 

   Your stomach dropped and the nerves building up in your jittering frame were hard to ignore. Dora noticed immediately and parked in the nearest spot and turned towards you.

   “You don’t have to come,” she whispered, and suddenly threw her door open and hopped out of the car, not waiting for a response from you.

   But you knew she was trying to spare you, trying to keep your hands clean of the matter. And by leaving before you could respond, she was attempting to not allow you a choice.

   It was only when you’d stayed glued to your seat in fear that Eddie opened your door slowly and bent over a bit, his arms sprawled on the frame of the door. 

   “What’s going on?” His gruffy but gentle voice spoke.

   You almost didn’t hear it, too submerged in your fears of the ‘what ifs’ to get out of your head. “What if we get caught?” You asked under your breath. “I mean, he will kill Dora if he finds out and he won’t hesitate to get rid of me, he’s wanted me gone since I first got here,” 

   The knot in your throat tightened and physical pain emerged from your chest as tears began to well up in your eyes, “What if he kills me?” you accidentally voiced. 

   Eddie ducked his head a little so he was in your line of view and you couldn’t ignore him, “Hey.” His hand hesitated to reach for you and he decided against it, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I promise.” His body blocked your view from Dr. Skirth, “If you don’t want to come I’m not gonna force you,”

   You stifled a sob that would’ve racked your body and shook your head, “I have to.” You attempted to look over Eddie’s frame at Dr. Skirth but failed, “She’s just as scared as I am, she’s only better at hiding it,” 

   Eddie looked over his shoulder at the doctor and nodded, “She obviously doesn’t want you involved in whatever is about to happen,”

   “She doesn’t want to be involved in whatever is about to happen.” You took a shaky breath in and out then shifted in your seat to get out of the car, “But if we don’t do something then no one else will,” 

   Eddie took a step back and allowed you  to leave then closed the door behind you. You walked past Dr. Skirth, hoping she didn’t notice the redness in your eyes, and scanned the lock with your pass.

   Here we go.

   Dr. Skirth explained the reason Carlton was doing the atrocities he was. She told him everything from the mission failure, which Eddie already knew about and lost his job over, to the symbiotes in the lab waiting human trial. 

   Your heart tightened and your breath hitched when steps echoed throughout the place, obviously getting closer. A security guard was making his rounds. Your eyes widened and you looked up at Dora, noting the fear lingering in her eyes too. 

   “Go!” She motioned to the two of you, scanning the lock with her key card and pushing you both in the room, “Let me handle this,” 

   You stumbled back but watched as the doors closed in front of you and took Dora out of your sight. You reached out to the door, almost opening and coming up with the excuse that Dora should’ve waited for you before she left if the security guard were to ask but a tight grip on your arm pulled you back.

   “Have some faith in her,” Eddie reassured, “She knows what she’s doing,”

   You pried your eyes away from the door and looked at him, “Do we really?”

   Eddie’s hard gaze softened as did his grip on your arm. You sighed and walked past him, leading him directly to the ‘experiments’ that were happening and you observed as he took picture after picture.

   You twisted around and walked back towards the door to keep a lookout, the hairs on your neck standing straight up as you tried to listen to everything happening around you. 

   And that’s when it happened, a loud crash emitted from the last place you left Eddie and your heart skipped a beat as it rose into your throat. You hurried over to see what was happening when you heard yelling and shouting.

   They sounded desperate.

   “I don’t know how!” You heard Eddie scream.

   “Eddie don’t open the door!” You shouted back once he came into view.

   “I have to!” he shouted, slamming what looked like a fire distinguisher against the glass panel.

   “Eddie!” You ran over to him, trying to reach him before he succeeded, “She’s got the symbiote!” 

   But it was too late. Eddie smashed the glass to pieces and the woman, Maria, pounced on him like prey. You saw the symbiote enter him and your body went rigid. You weren’t sure how he was going to react to the symbiote, if he was going to be uncontrollable or have some sense. Either way, your biggest fear was him rejecting the symbiote and dying because of it. 

   You were so engulfed in Eddie’s well being that you hadn’t noticed the sirens and alarms go off. The room flashed red and the intercom stated there was a breach in your section.

   Shit.

   “Eddie!” You shouted, grabbing him by his hand and desperately trying to pull him up, “We have to go!”

   Eddie took a second to try and piece together what was happening, the puzzled look on his face slowly turned to concern.

   “Go!” Eddie shouted, pushing you away from him. “Get out of here! I promised nothing was going to happen to you and I meant it, now go!”

   “B-But-”

   “(Y/N), hide NOW!” he shouted at you, jolting you out of your daze and running towards the bathroom by Dr. Skirth’s office.

   Just as you managed to shut the door behind you, the sound of another one opening followed by multiple shouting, arose. It didn’t take long before the gunfire started.

   You locked the door and crash against the cold tile on the floor, bringing your knees up to your chest at the same time.

   Eddie.

   Christ, you couldn’t believe you’d left him out there, he should’ve hid with you. But he knew. He knew that if they didn’t find anyone in this section then they were just going to search until they did. And it was going to look really bad if they found you with him. 

   A tear trickled down your cheek as you sat in the dark bathroom, waiting until the coast was clear.

   Please be okay.

~~~~~

Tags: @lunalustrix @marvelgirl7 @tomhardy41

Hey so I know some people didn’t ask to be tagged but asked about a part 2 so I’m just letting you guys know that it’s here and waiting for you! 

[mattgambler]

My thoughts on Sekiro - Shadows Die Twice

TLDR: I talk about what I liked and disliked about Sekiro and why it in my eyes is probably* the best game From Software has released to date. Which means I also compare it to Dark Souls a lot.

*I havent played Demon Souls or Bloodborne, so I cant really talk about those. As someone who played through all three Dark Souls games as well as several other soulslikes on stream, I always stood by the unpopular opinion that Dark Souls 1 is a good game, but also a vastly overrated one - with one of the most unbearable fanbases out there, right up there with Undertale, albeit for very different reasons. My opinion is of course strongly coloured by my interactions with diehard fans of Dark Souls, both on stream as well as everywhere else on the Internet, but at the end of the day I never hated Dark Souls. I wouldnt have played through all three games otherwise. I *did* hate smaller aspects, like the fact that I ended up entering the tomb of the giants without ever finding a lantern and therefore  being forced to crawl through that place in near complete darkness until I found the emergency lantern in there, simply because I was unlucky enough to have none of the necromancers drop one for me. Or how the curse mechanic in the sewers got me trapped in a place that i already struggled with, but now with only 50% of my original HP. Or the entire “Git Gud” mentality that is so grossly abused to defend poor game design that the travesty that is camera control in the Ornstein and Smough fight looks like a piece of art in comparison. Onionbro and Solaire would weep if they knew. There were other things that I didnt enjoy, like what the Souls games count as a story, but I have an easier time pinning that down as personal preference and something that just isnt for me. Vaatividya makes good videos. The tomb of the giants without a lantern however, that just shouldnt exist in any game, not to mention a game that is glorified to such an extent that it could get its dick sucked every day by a different dude without running out for centuries. Can you taste that sweaty salt yet? Along comes Sekiro, a game by the same dev studio, with the same feel, minus many of the things that I have hated and criticized for several years now. Guess what, I like it.    This isnt a review, Im not trying to tell you if you should buy, Im not telling you that there are no microtransactions in the game or what framerate it isnt capped at. There are tons of videos online that jump-attacked all over that on day 1 of release or earlier. Im telling you why, in my opinion, this game is so vastly superior to Dark Souls that it simply warms my heart. Let me start a list and then never finish it: - You can swim - You can jump - You can talk - You dont immediately die when you fall off a cliff - You cant accidentally walk over a cliff like a moron, at least most of the time. - You can’t simply rely on dodgerolls and invincibility frames all the time - You can understand the story without having to go to Youtube to have it explained to you by someone - You can’t kill strong enemies simply by chain parrying them over and over, or at least it is hell of a lot harder - You can’t simply kill strong enemies by knocking them off a cliff (I think) - You can’t abuse magic for an immediate easy mode - You can’t abuse coop for an immediate easy mode

... I’m getting a little unfair here, I know. I actually think coop is a cool feature, even though I personally never used it and even the multiplayer pvp invasions are an original and interesting concept, although I’m not personally into it. Magic is cool too, although poorly balanced and therefore in my opinion less interesting. The reason I added those last two points to my unfinished list is not because I dislike them, but because of the lately relevant “does Sekiro need an easy mode” controversy. Especially the most elitist diehard fans of the souls franchise strongly disagree with the addition of an easy mode, which is funny... ... given that Dark Souls 1 has several. Personally I dont think Sekiro NEEDS an easy mode, but it sure wouldnt hurt anyone. I personally wouldnt have minded playing on a lower difficulty, I had three or four bosses greatly overstay their welcome before I finally managed to smash their asslike faces in. ...but Im rambling. On a surface level, just looking at the feel of combat, movement and overall story coherence Sekiro is already miles ahead, but I can understand that it therefore feels less like a Souls game and that not everyone will like that. I can understand and respect that. DarkSouls 1, as well as 2 and maybe even 3, have a couple of features that I greatly appreciate and that partly even surpass Sekiro in my otherwise overly critical eyes. Dark Souls 1 has the best and most memorable map in my opinion. Dark Souls 2 has incredible DLCs, especially Frozen Eleum Loyce was awesome and beautiful, with the minor exception of that retarded snow zebra area and how you would respawn *before* the loading screen to get there again instead of after. I also liked the Pursuers concept a lot, as well as the idea of despawning mobs if you killed them often enough. I dont remember much about DS3, it was okay as far as Im concerned but I enjoyed it the least out of the three, probably because of burnout as I had played through all three (blind) in a row. Im mentioning all of this because I want to clarify that in my eyes Sekiro is not THE TIMELESS MASTERPIECE NOBODY WILL EVER SURPASS that Darksouls 1 is often celebrated as. But in many ways it is headed in a direction that makes more sense to me than “if you are not enjoying it then you are doing it wrong and you should maybe think for once”. (Not that Sekiro streamers werent told exactly that just the same) Let me tell you, there were many instances in Sekiro where I also didnt think, didnt consider every possible option the game had given me, honestly Im pretty sure I sucked most of the time, in the eyes of your usual GITGUD-Bro. But I struggled, I improved, I succeded, and I had a way better time during it all, even though I did the same shit in the Souls games as well. Just without falling off edges in waist-high water every 10 minutes, or being invaded by some bowing edgelord, or losing 50% of my max hp as punishment for dying to the wrong enemy. There is this myth going around online that Dark Souls might be a harsh mistress, but at least a fair one. The one spreading that rumour must have been the Bed of Chaos herself, because that is nothing but horseshit. Sekiro isnt exactly fair all the time either, there are many moments in the game that feel all too familiar in their GOTCHA nature. Like how the game conveniently places the key to one of the hardest areas of the early game in your path so you go check it out just to get crucified there by Lady Butterfly and a special drunkard, just for you to learn after finally breaking both of them that you would have had a way easier time if you had simply ignored that area and soldiered on on your original path. Sure, one could have simply abandoned that area and returned later, but how many of you did? I sure didnt. The game likes to oneshot-kill you if you fail to dodge the wrong attack, be it a giant carp, a giant snake, or a giant TERROR man. Even worse, in Sekiro you cant even get your souls back! You die, you lose 50%. ALso 50% of your cash. Suck it. Im not particularly happy about that myself and Im not sure what the motivation behind that design decision was, but you take the good with the bad, right? Another thing that Sekiro does that I dont understand is how the game has you collect loot. Every time you kill an enemy you need to hold a button to collect. You can kill several in an area and then grab everything at once if they arent too far apart, but at the end of the day it eludes me why From Software didnt simply go for autocollecting instead. It’s not a big deal (even though I would forget about picking up loot every now and then) but at the same time it isnt adding any enjoyment to the game either, no matter how hard I try and emphasize with whatever a gamer who likes this might possibly think. It is not hard, its is not really relevant,  and I cant think of a single advantage it has over autocollecting. Maybe holding that button is supposed to feel rewarding? I consider it meaningless at best and tedious busywork at worst. At the same time the game introduces a stealth system that actually means something, while at the same time keeping it both well integrated as well as completely optional. Im truly impressed by how that is even possible. I also like the immortality mechanic, that results in you only truly dying if you go down twice, and even refreshes that revive if you kill enough enemies inbetween deaths. It doesnt help that much, as it doesnt refill your estus fl.... healing gourds, but it allows for a little bit more practice against tough enemies before you die, a little bit more lenience while exploring in an area where it is easy to fall, a little bit more standing power in a world where a giant carp can simply eat you. I appreciate it and it is far from making the game anything close to easy. Its more like an extra gourding flask. I could keep going and praise this (surprisingly satisfying enemy style and variety given the setting) or criticize that (less replayability because of fewer possible weapons and builds), but at the end of the day my opinion is crystalclear - Sekiro is stunningly beautiful, very enjoyable, hard as fuck, and while I have heard people say that “it is not a true soulslike”, I have to shrug and agree. It is better.

[iruka-2013]

[Frozen] Fanfic: The Magic One (1/1)

Summary: Anna follows Elsa on a clandestine training run. (Written in the wake of the first teaser trailer for Frozen II, Feb./March 2019.) (Approx. 3,600 words.) AO3 link: [X]

Rating: K (pure non-shippy Frozen sisterliness)

[If you haven’t seen the first Frozen II trailer, take two minutes and view it here. If you have lived under a rock for the past five years haven’t seen the movie Frozen, then watch it first, as the fic is littered with spoilers. Hoping y’all will forgive a little Frozen spamming in the coming days, as the movie is one my favorites ever and that blasted trailer has taken over my brain...] 

It was a thundery, foggy morning on the black beaches near the Black Cliffs at the foot of the Black Mountains near Arendelle. Chilly and dry as yet, but the sky flashed with lightning and threatened rain.

Princess Anna crouched behind a rock at the top of a fifty-foot cliff, holding a spyglass to one eye in tense, frigid fingers. Its circle framed a human figure, trailed by a line of icy, glowing footprints, running impossibly across the watery trough between wave-crests. A streak of white flashed from the figure’s outstretched arms, and a section of the nearest wave vanished in an explosion of white spray, leaving a V-shaped bridge of ice that stood for several seconds against the beating of the dark, stormy water.

“Wow,” breathed Anna.

Anna had learned, on the rare occasions during their childhood when her sister had come out of her rooms, how to tail Elsa while staying out of sight, and that knowledge had served her well on today’s long hike from the castle. With the help of the dark sky and the fog, Anna’s charcoal gray dress and purple cloak camouflaged most of her body against rocks, trees, and grassy hummocks, though she had to be careful about exposing her gold trim and pale face when Elsa was looking her way. If her sister had wanted an audience, after all, she’d have said so before she began sneaking out of the castle alone to hone her powers.

Anna’s breath stopped as the sea beneath the ice bridge surged and broke it apart, burying its occupant in an avalanche of ice slabs and black water. Elsa’s first attempt to cross the breakers had ended with her disappearing beneath a massive wave, only to drag her dripping body out of the surf precisely 256 heartbeats later, by Anna’s count, and reposition herself for a second charge. Her first target had been a tall black rock sticking out of the ocean beyond the first breakers, but she had kept going after reaching it, distant gold flashes marking her path, as if she planned to cross the whole North Sea on foot.

One part of Anna stood in stunned awe of the lone bluish-white figure matching her ice magic against the elemental force of a stormy sea. Another part prickled with terror and began counting the beats of her pounding heart again.

What if she doesn’t come back this time?

Then I’ll just have to jump in and rescue her.

Of course, that would be easier if Anna knew how to swim… but to save Elsa’s life, she’d figure it out somehow. That was the power of true love.

Lightning flashed overhead, drawing Anna’s eyes toward the sky. Maybe Elsa had come here because she felt like battling something outside her own head for a change. Freezing the ocean during a thunderstorm was the most dangerous thing she had thought up to try so far, but if she could move tons of snow in the avalanche-prone mountain passes—her previous record for dangerousness—Anna felt inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt.

At least for a few minutes.

Biting her lip, Anna brought the spyglass to her eye again and searched the roiling sea for any sign of her sister. It remained empty.

The wind gusts were getting louder, and she’d lost count of her heartbeats. How long has it been? Too long. Anna jumped to her feet, shoved the spyglass into the leather bag hanging at her side, and began searching for a way to descend the few dozen feet of cliff between her and the beach.

There was no path, but the jagged footholds on the cliff face would be faster anyway, as long as she kept Kristoff’s rock-climbing lessons firmly in mind. She lowered herself over the edge by her fingertips, then scraped, scrambled, and slid down the cliff more rapidly than was probably safe—a little too rapidly at the end, as she missed a foothold and fell the last few feet in a shower of dirt and scree onto the smooth, black pebbles of the beach.

Anna forced herself to her feet, ignoring her new scrapes and bruises. A few yards away she spotted the low rock at the edge of the surf where Elsa had left her jacket and boots. The sea seemed far more dangerous down here, the foot of the cliffs terrifyingly close to the huge, crashing waves.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and bellowed, “Elsaaa!” The wind blew her cry back in her face.

Anna swept the hair out of her eyes and fumbled the spyglass into position again, noting with a sick feeling that that rock beyond the breakers was much farther away than it had seemed from the clifftop. No way Elsa could possibly—

“You’re holding it backward,” said a dry voice from behind her.

“Oh.” Anna felt her face grow hot as she spun around, hastily lowering the wide end of the spyglass from her eye. There was Elsa, barefoot, dripping, and looking as roughed up by the ocean as Anna had been by her descent down the cliff. Still queenly, though—the unaccustomed glint of steel in her eyes helped with that—and still gorgeous.

“Elsa...” Anna gulped and struggled for words, waving the spyglass at the sea behind her. “What was that?” she burst out at last. “That—that thing with running over the ocean as if it were some, some—I mean, that wave must’ve been twenty feet high, and you punched it like—you could’ve—it’s amazing you didn’t…”

Elsa folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused. Am I being chewed out or complimented?”

Fury flared in Anna’s chest, snapping her back to coherence. How dare she act so smug!

“Oh, this is definitely a chewing out.” She balled her fists and pointed one finger at her sister’s face. “You scared the life out of me! It’s a miracle you’re still breathing and not permanently buried under fifty feet of water like Mama and Papa! Did you even think about what could happen if—”

The rest of her words were drowned out by a deafening boom, which came with the beginning of the long-threatened downpour on their heads. Elsa snatched up her discarded clothes, then grabbed Anna’s hand and dragged her toward the base of the cliffs. “Come on. I know where we can wait out this storm.”

It wasn’t a cave so much as a shallow overhang that would be flooded with seawater when the tide came in, but it was enough shelter to keep them from getting any wetter. Elsa was soaked already, of course, but she didn’t seem to care as long as Anna stayed dry.

They sank down side by side on a low black boulder worn smooth by the tides, and Elsa began methodically wringing water from her ponytail. Her momentary cockiness had evaporated; though she didn’t respond to Anna’s outburst, the way she hunched her shoulders and avoided her sister’s eyes showed that she expected her chewing out to resume any moment, and half-believed she deserved it. Anna bit her lip, feeling like she’d kicked a puppy.

Fix this, Anna. Now, before she proves she doesn’t need a bedroom door to close herself off.

Anna unfastened the gold chain at her neck and removed her heavy purple cloak, holding it open like a bath towel. “Here, Elsa.”  

Elsa always claimed not to feel the cold, but they had learned the hard way that she could get sick. She scooted closer to Anna’s side and let her sister drape the warm cloak around her shoulders, her troubled expression giving way to a tentative smile. “Thanks.”

She started to bend down again, fiddling with her boots, but Anna put a hand on her shoulder to make her look up. “Elsa, what were you doing out there? Were you actually trying to cross the ocean on foot?”

Elsa’s expression turned serious, and she was silent for a few seconds. Finally she asked, “How much do you know about the state of Arendelle’s defenses?”

“You mean the army? Our guys in uniforms?”

“They’re not exactly an army.” Elsa sat back against the cliff behind them, fidgeting with the cloak’s chain fastener. Her eyes looked faraway. “‘Our guys in uniforms’ are the Royal Guards, and there are only a few dozen of them. Our next line of defense is townspeople wielding kitchen implements and maybe an occasional pitchfork. We have no other means of protecting ourselves… except me. I need to learn the limits of my powers so I can be ready to use them if we’re threatened. Hans gave us a wakeup call about that, at least.

“Since we’re alone, this may be the best time for another thing as well.” She paused and took deep breath, turning to look her sister in the eye. “Anna, I need to talk to you about something of vital importance to the future of Arendelle.”

“Huh?” For a second Anna wondered where she had heard those exact words before—then she sat up straight, raising her hands as if to ward them off. “Oh, nononono. You are not giving me Papa’s you’re-next-in-line-for-the-throne-when-I-die speech.”

Elsa blinked. “How do you know about that?”

“Because I was eavesdropping through your door when he gave it to you—all that stuff about traditional royal funeral arrangements and ‘ensuring an orderly succession.’ I was seven. Scarred me for life. I remember you crying for, like, an hour after he was done.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Elsa smiled faintly. “I needed to hear it, though. I never could’ve guessed how soon I’d have to—”

Anna stood up abruptly. “Elsa, you’re starting to freak me out. Do you have some kind of—of death wish? Are you trying to follow them?”

“Our parents?” Elsa looked shocked. “Of course not.”

“Then why? I just watched you get buried alive by falling ice! Do you have any reasonable… reason for pushing your powers that far?”

“Not yet,” Elsa admitted, “but I feel like the time is coming when I’ll need to know a lot more about what they can do.”

Yeah, well, I feel like you won’t live to see it if you keep this up!

Anna pushed away the thought and swallowed the words. That approach wouldn’t get her anywhere with a woman who valued her life as little as Elsa did. 

She breathed out slowly, fingering the gold collar of her dress. “The thing is… what I want more than anything else right now is some catch-up time. A few years to just be happy together. I know ignoring royal responsibilities doesn’t make them go away, but do we have to talk about the succession thing so soon?”

“I wish we didn’t, but we may not have as much time as we’d like.”

“Before what?” Anna narrowed her eyes, realizing that she wasn’t the only one dodging an important subject. She lowered herself back onto the rock, meeting Elsa’s eyes. “Elsa, what are you not telling me? Is the thing about Hans and our defenses all that’s bothering you?”

“It may be nothing,” Elsa murmured. “I’ve just been doing a little studying about the ancient history of Arendelle.”

“And?”

“And… I’ll tell you more when it’s time.” She frowned at the hurt look on Anna’s face. “I’m not shutting you out, Anna, but I am asking you to have faith in me. If I had to leave on an important mission alone, for the good of Arendelle, could you trust that I was acting for the best? I need to know the kingdom would be in good hands if something happened to me.”

Something. If. Outside, the black, stormy North Sea raged and crashed—the sea that had swallowed their parents’ ship whole, the sea that Elsa had charged into twice.

Anna folded her arms stubbornly. “You told me love is the key to controlling your powers, Elsa. What exactly did you mean by that?”

Elsa raised an eyebrow, but she answered without hesitation. “Before the Thaw, keeping my powers under control felt like holding my breath all the time. Now I only have to focus on how much I love you, Anna—what you mean to me, how much better my life is with you in it—and the magic does what I want it to every time. Just like when we were little. The fear is still there, but thinking of you lets me crowd it out of my mind.”

She’d expected that answer, but hearing it still made Anna uncomfortable—it made her want to argue, to hash out why someone as amazing as Elsa thought so highly of someone like her.

For the thousandth time, she suppressed the impulse. “If that’s true, then we need to stick together. You spent thirteen years trying to carry everyone’s problems alone, only to have it blow up in your face.”

“Touche,” said Elsa under her breath.

“And that means…” Anna squared her shoulders. “…if you want to keep doing this battling-the-ocean thing, I’m gonna have to dive in after you.”

“Dive in after me?” Elsa stared at her. “You can’t do that. You’d drown.”

Anna threw up her hands. “I know! If that idea scares you, please tell me there’s another way to hammer into your stubborn brain how it feels to watch the person you love most in the world pointlessly risk her life trying to do the impossible!”

“Until I’ve pushed my powers to the limit,” Elsa said, “how do we know what’s impossible?”

Anna gave a frustrated huff and ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the rock wall. Elsa had spent years forcibly confining within her body enough power to create build castles and freeze the sea. In a way, Anna couldn’t blame her for wanting to turn it loose once in a while. “So you’re testing your powers… how? Scientifically?”

“Well, I’ve been… trying things. Difficult things.”

“Like crossing the North Sea on foot,” Anna said flatly.

“Like… seeing how far I can get. The next rock, or the next island.”

“In a thunderstorm?”

Elsa looked at her coolly. “I’ve already frozen calm seawater. What more could I learn from that?”

“Are you writing things down—keeping records?” Anna pursed her lips as she thought of something. “Did you realize you were gone almost twice as long the second time you ran into the ocean as you were the first? I lost count around four hundred, and the first time was only two hundred fifty-something. Of course, I was counting heartbeats instead of seconds, and you pretty much had me panicking by then, so the time might be a little off…”

Judging from Elsa’s surprised expression, none of these things had occurred to her. She looked toward the tall rock far out in the surf, the grim steeliness in her eyes replaced by a spark of genuine interest.

“Four hundred?” she murmured. “So if we divide that by two, and the rock is maybe fifty feet from shore, and we assume an average fluid-to-surface drag coefficient of—”

She rattled off some more math-and-science stuff, seeming happier the longer she talked, then stopped and blinked wonderingly at her sister. “You’re right—measuring and quantifying what I can do would be a perfect next step. I’m actually feeling excited about this. How did you—”

Anna grinned and wiggled one hand in the air. “Magic.”

“Anna, you’re amazing.” Elsa smiled her slightly cockeyed smile—the one she used to smile as a little girl when she gave in to Anna’s pleas to leave her comfy bed and play in the snow. “Why didn’t I realize that I needed…”

“An observer,” Anna finished, “someone to write things down while you’re busy beating on ocean waves, or throwing rocks at beehives, or whatever stupidly dangerous thing you feel you need to do to ‘test’ yourself. In other words, me.”

Elsa snorted. “You can handle that job as long as you’re not too busy diving in to ‘rescue’ me.” Her smile faded again. “You need to understand, Anna… I didn’t want you or anyone else panicking over me, or being endangered by my actions. That’s why I decided I needed to do this alone.”

“You can’t do this alone. Not the thing with your magic, and not taking off on some quest ‘for the good of Arendelle.’”

Elsa was folding her arms the way she did when she felt insecure. Anna held out her own hands, waiting for Elsa to take them before she went on. “Here’s what you need to understand, Elsa. That morning, four years ago… I was in the front hall when the messenger came banging on the gates, and I followed him up to your room. You’d already opened your door—” Of all the people to let in on the first knock! “—and I saw him kneel down in front of you and call you my queen. Right then I knew what he was going to say about Mama and Papa.

“You knew too, didn’t you? I saw it in your eyes.” She gave Elsa a faint, humorless smile. “That was when you spotted me and slammed the door again. And barely set foot outside it until Coronation Day.”

“I remember.” Elsa tried for an answering smile that came out as a grimace. “That was inexcusable of me. I failed you completely, left you to face everything alone.”

“It’s okay.” Anna squeezed Elsa’s hands. “Look, I never told you this before, but since then I’ve had actual nightmares about messengers coming to tell me I’m the new queen.”

Elsa’s eyes widened. “Anna—”

Anna locked gazes with her sister and silenced her with one raised hand. “I am not waiting at home for messengers to tell me what’s happening to you, Elsa. Wherever you go, I’m going with you. Reckless or not, I’m jumping in after you. You can’t stop me.”

Elsa nodded. “I know. You’ve already shown me.” Now she was enfolding Anna’s right hand in both of hers—the hand that had shattered Hans’ sword, though, as always, Anna shied away from that thought and all the mind-blowing baggage that came with it.

Outside, the rain was slackening. Elsa let go of Anna’s hand and reached up to resettle the cloak around her shoulders, letting a few moments of silence crawl by before she spoke again. “All right, Anna. I give you my word that I won’t leave on any vital missions for Arendelle without inviting you to come.” She shook her head. “I’d better not be making a mistake. Arendelle can’t afford to lose us both.” 

“Arendelle can’t afford to lose either one of us,” Anna said quietly, “because we can’t afford to lose each other. Our best chance to accomplish this hypothetical mission of yours is together. Besides, who else can you trust to watch your back?”

Fighting the ocean had taken its toll on Elsa after all. Drier now and suddenly weary, she leaned her head against Anna’s shoulder. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Anna grinned and wrapped an arm around her sister, feeling lighter than she had in days. “Wow, I must be getting better at this arguing thing. I thought for sure you were going to blast me with both barrels of ‘I’m your queen and you have a royal duty as princess…’ blah blah blah.”

“Still might, if you keep gloating about it,” Elsa murmured, her eyes closed. “Don’t push your luck.”

Anna’s mind was jumping ahead. “Researching your powers together—this’ll be great. We can work out some ground rules so nobody dies, and you won’t need to sneak around anymore, because it was me you were hiding from all along, wasn’t it?”

With a sleepy half-smile, Elsa nodded. “I suppose it was.”

“I’ve gotta admit,” Anna whispered after another long silence, “if it weren’t for the you-almost-dying thing… it was pretty amazing watching you fight the ocean with ice magic. Really amazing. Spectacularly amazing.”

A gentle snore was Elsa’s only reply.

A/N: Theories about Elsa’s ocean-crossing scene in the Feb. 13 Frozen II trailer fall into two major categories: (1) She’s trapped/stranded far from home, and the only way she can escape is on foot over a barrier of water; and (2) she’s engaging in an incredibly strenuous but voluntary form of training, for unknown reasons, probably near Arendelle. For my purposes (i.e., because the first theory seems to involve the sisters being separated and I wanted Anna in my story), I’ve gone with theory #2, best articulated here. I’m aware that I could be wrong, and that the story’s whole premise may be Jossed by the next frame of new material—so enjoy it for what it is now, a plausible idea. 

For those wondering, I do mean for readers to picture Anna in her new Frozen II trailer outfit, because I like it very much and it would make good camouflage on a dark and stormy day. Now wouldn’t it be cool if they went searching together for, say, villages threatened with avalanches, which Elsa could practice triggering and dispersing safely while Anna fills page after page of her notebook with the snarkiest research notes in the history of scientific inquiry? 

(…Now I’m off to catch up some correspondence that was overdue even before the Frozen II trailer dropped, and then to maybe read some books about avalanches…)

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam season 3, episode 7 reaction

AKA The One Where The Boy Squad Saved the Day

Episode 7 of season 3 is simpler compared to other episodes, artistically speaking - for most of it, there’s no slow motion, no big music moments, or any other Skam hallmarks. That is, until Even’s dramatic ass shows up at the very end. Which is quite fitting, in a way. 

SEASON 3, EPISODE 7 - “Are you gay?”

Clip 1 - Eskild becomes Isak’s guru

Eskild tries to help Noora get over William by showing her the wonders of Tinder. I don’t know if his distaste for William in S4 was something Julie invented that season, as maybe a nod to the part of the audience who did not care for William or Noorhelm, but in-universe I would buy Eskild developing that grudge against Willy around this time. I don’t think he quite knew how much of her S2 angst was William-related, considering she wasn’t an open book and she was dealing with assault-related trauma as well. Here he knows she’s hurting for reasons directly to do with William. 

Noora liked the guy on Tinder with the guitar, awww. William apparently had a guitar, as we saw during the More Than Words scene, but he was never shown playing it or talking about music.

“I just think you’re the kind of person who always has to do the right thing. You always have to be so good.” Hmmm, this says a lot about what Eskild thinks of Noora and her role in Kollektivet. Although I think in this case it mostly has to do with what Eskild says a moment later, about how everyone knows William isn’t going to come back. He really doesn’t think William will return for her and believes Noora is limiting herself by waiting for him. Just because Noora will wait for William doesn’t mean William will wait for her (which ... may have been true, it’s never clear in S4).

While watching this clip in real time, I wondered if, with all these moments reminding us that William is gone, Thomas wouldn’t come back for like a cameo in this season finale. Regardless of my personal feelings on the ship, Julie spent a full season on Noorhelm, and since there were Evak/Noorhelm parallels this season, if Evak ended up together, then Noorhelm would get some closure, right? It was actually a little surprising that she would tank her OTP like that without a hint of his return. 

Noora is making tea in a Star Wars mug. Is that her mug, or someone else’s? Who’s the Star Wars fan in the flat? Tbh ever since Eskild made that Warhammer reference in the first episode, I kind of like the idea of him having sci-fi/fantasy nerd tendencies. Imagine if Kollektivet had a tabletop game night, omg.

Isak has a little smile for just a fraction of a second at Eskild’s dramatics over the Noorhelm saga.

Eskild is really tired of Isak apologizing for the gay pride incident. I think once he got some distance from the situation, he remembered that Isak is young and just coming out, and not perfectly educated on all issues regarding to the LGBT community. Eskild himself likely made some similar mistakes when he was younger and newly out of the closet. Life is a learning process, there’s no point where any of us reach Mount Woke and forevermore say the right thing and hold all the right opinions about issues of social justice.

Also, at a certain point you just want people to stop saying sorry for their mistakes, because you’ve stopped caring about what they did and just want to move on. And sometimes it becomes more about the person saying sorry than the person they hurt, though I don’t think that’s the case here with Isak. But I do think Isak just does not want Eskild mad at him. He realizes he messed up and hurt someone close to him, someone that he frankly needs during this sensitive time in his life, and who already has done so much for him.

It’s hilarious how Eskild’s annoyed mood does a 180 once Isak says he needs some advice. Those are the magic words. Eskild is a dude who really, really wants to nurture others and take them under his wing. He wants to help. And he likes the idea of being Isak’s mentor. Of course there’s the satisfaction of having his opinion listened to and valued, but he also gets to help out a gay kid who’s not as sure of himself as Eskild. Really makes you wonder whether Eskild had his own guru or whether he had to go it alone - if this is a “pay it forward” situation, or if he’s telling Isak the things he wishes someone would have told him.

It’s kind of hard to think about long-term future headcanons for Skam since it existed so firmly in its present, but I love the idea that Eskild would become a counselor for troubled youth or LGBT teens or something like that.

This is also just delicious payback, because asking for help shows Isak does look up to Eskild and respects his opinion, which is what Eskild wants. It’s really fun as Carl Martin stretches out Isak’s request, playing with him. Messing with Isak is probably more satisfying than another apology. Meanwhile Isak rolls his eyes in peak bratty teenage mode. (Tarjei gives some first-rate bratty teenage face in this scene.)

Here’s the immortal guru line, ha! Didn’t Carl Martin improvise this part? 

It’s really nice that Isak felt he could go to Eskild with this concern, though. Coming out to Jonas made him relax a little bit, but Jonas can’t quite understand the specific scenario of being a gay guy (or pan guy in Even’s case) and having relationship drama. There are some factors in Isak and Even’s situation that could be influenced by them being two guys instead of a straight couple, so now Isak wants the input of another gay guy. Still, Isak is mostly looking at the ground while he openly admits his concerns about this thing with Even. He’s very vulnerable, getting it all out there. And honestly, he’s indicating to Eskild that this isn’t just a casual thing with Even - he’s invested in it, otherwise would he be so confused and upset about Even going back to his girlfriend? They weren’t just hooking up, Isak thought they were going to be together.

You can see the mention of “girlfriend” being the thing that sticks out to Eskild, and Isak noticing that and starting to get worried.

I really like this exchange where Eskild asks Isak how honest he wants him to be, and Isak says, “Maybe not too honest,” at first, then changes his mind and asks for the whole truth. That’s such a good little moment because you can see that Eskild wants to protect Isak’s feelings but also doesn’t want to give him false hope or lie to him. He’s really looking out for Isak’s best interests. And Isak doesn’t want to hear the harsh truth at first, which is real and vulnerable, but then he figures he better hear it anyway, which is a mark of maturity.

Look at the bucket of cold water splashed over Isak when Eskild tells him not many guys leave their girlfriends for a guy. This is like the episode opener from episode 4 all over again, except opposed to what Eskild said to Noora - “There are people who leave their wives and families to be with the ones they love.” It’s interesting because he’s talking from a more personal perspective here, as a gay man, rather than Noora’s issue with her het relationship, and his take is more cynical. 

Though even with Noora, Eskild was trying to soften the blow - it was clear he thought William was out of the picture for good, going off how he kept mentioning how Noorhelm had broken up despite Noora’s protests. Similarly, Eskild doesn’t want to let Isak down too much, he wants to qualify that he’s not God or Buddha, this is just his opinion … but he also can’t bring himself to openly lie (in his opinion) to Isak and tell him it’s going to work out fine.

Nothing like Eskild asking if his advice was helpful when Isak’s hope is draining fast, and the clip just ending there.

So I remember there was criticism of Eskild’s advice/POV here, and while I understand why because his advice is flawed and he ends up being wrong about Even, obviously, I think it’s important to keep in mind Eskild is coming from a very specific, very personal perspective, where he’s meeting guys on Grindr who are ostensibly hanging on to a straight identity while having gay sex. As that one dude in episode 2 wrote to him, he’s not gay but he likes to suck dick, etc. - and I doubt that random Grindr guy meant he was actually bi or pan rather than gay; in context he was likely disavowing any non-heterosexual identity. Eskild is talking about a specific type of guy who will have sex with men for pleasure, but would not commit to more long-term relationships with men - relationships that are perceived more negatively in society, relationships that will direct prejudice and scorn toward those involved, relationships that unfortunately can lead to terrible consequences due to homophobia, such as violence, discrimination, family disapproval, etc. He’s not getting a correct read on Isak’s situation - the guru is fallible. But his take on it is from personal experience. (Plus Isak is telling him how Even keeps running hot and cold, showing Isak affection then ignoring him, which is not going to give Eskild the best impression of the situation.)

Clip 2 - Nei, Vilde

My heart gets so warm whenever Isak and Sana are in the same frame.

“I read it last weeeeek.” Why is that one line delivery so funny and memorable? Tarjei is a human meme.

Isak is right, the correct answer is D. Sana is convinced it’s A. One of Sana’s greatest strengths is her conviction in her beliefs, but it’s also one of her biggest flaws. As we can see, sometimes she is strongly convinced she’s right when she’s not, and she can have trouble admitting that she’s wrong. (Another moment: that scene from S1 where Sana and Noora are talking about an assignment, Noora says Sana did a problem wrong, and Sana says that the answer key is wrong.) This part of the scene with Isak and Sana fighting over the answer is here to parallel the earlier scene with Sana talking about homosexuality not being supported by evolution and to foreshadow the coming scene where she does admit to Isak she was wrong about it. We can see that Sana, while a smart person, doesn’t have all the answers. She is just a teenager, after all. And we can see that she’s stubborn in her mindset, so for her to say she was wrong about something is a big deal for her.

Also, in Isak’s season he’s the one who’s got the right answer and it’s Sana who’s wrong, and I believe in Sana’s season she’s the one outperforming him, which is funny and fitting for their characters. They both think they’re the brains of the operation.

“Your own organs don’t release waste.” Sana ... do you not know what poop is....

I mean excretion takes other forms,too, but I am given to understand that poop is a globally recognized phenomenon.

Sana pinching her nose in exasperation is pretty funny, though. She must have perfected that gesture during her conversations with Vilde, but as it turns out, it has many applications!

“Just trust me, Sana, I know this.” “I trust myself and it’s A.” Character-defining statement for Sana right there.

I’d forgotten that Isak says, “This is my subject. I know what I’m doing.” Just to support all those fanfics where Isak is a scientist or doctor. Sometimes facts can be super common in fic, but not necessarily supported in canon, but this bit gives credence to scientist Isak outside of him just generally being smart and getting good grades in biology.

AND NOW, as of this week, we have Julie Andem herself saying that Isak is studying biophysics at university, for people who would like to run with her headcanons.

Isak is like, “Let’s just Google it, I’m sick of you being stubborn,” and Sana’s like, “Well, if you’re so uncertain that you have to check Google,” and I’m like, oh my god what a ridiculous duo, I can’t stop giggling at them sniping at each other. The crankiest friends, I love them.

Everyone’s least favorite teacher returns, still without a bra but this time without a racist comment. Uh, character development? (Wasn’t she some teacher at Nissen? Imagine walking into your classroom and all your students were watching extended shots of your nipples when the clip dropped earlier. Unless she usually free-boobs it, then it’s just another Tuesday.)

Isak and Sana can’t come to an agreement, so they agree to disagree by each choosing an answer and marking it. Almost like … they can agree to disagree on other topics … hmmmm...

You can see Sana frown in confusion as she reads the text, and my heart cracks a little with Isak’s response. He looks over with a smirk, teasing her about not knowing her name and it’s very cute, but his smile drops when he sees her expression. And then when he reads the text, Tarjei does such excellent and subtle acting. It’s not like Isak has a meltdown at the table or anything, but you can see him getting punched in the gut, the shock sinking in. He quietly puts the phone in his pocket, a little tremor in his voice.

Vilde, Vilde, Vilde. I actually love Vilde a lot, messy comments and opinions and all, but this is What Not to Do when you think someone you know might be gay. First of all, you shouldn’t be putting someone randomly on the spot like that, launching into such a personal question without even easing into the subject (“I hope you don’t find this question rude” - too bad, because it is rude). I mean, imagine if someone was randomly like, “Vilde, I hope you don’t think this is rude, but is your mom an alcoholic?” WTF. Second, Vilde doesn’t know Isak that well, certainly not well enough to be asking him that question. I don’t think that question would be appropriate from a close friend, either, but definitely not from their level of acquaintances. Third, if you think your friend might be gay, you should wait for them to bring it up to you, because it’s a very personal matter. It’s a sensitive topic and they’re likely to be feeling vulnerable; they might not be sure of themselves and still questioning their sexuality, they just might not be ready. Plus coming out is something each individual should have control over. With these rumors, Isak has this life-changing moment taken out of his hands.

Sana responds to the text well, though, not acknowledging it, changing the subject by asking about the next bio question, and taking care of their assignment for Isak. You know when she saw Vilde next she chewed her out.

This is probably when things really started to make sense to her about why Isak was so hung up about religion not being accepting of homosexuality, and why he confronted her about it. She realizes that no matter her point, maybe her words had some unintended meanings that weren’t the best for Isak to hear.

There’s fear in Isak’s eyes when Sana gets up. He looks at her like he thinks she might hate him now because she knows he’s gay :(

Isak is not ready to be labeled gay, really, so you can imagine how alarming this is. Not just that he had a relationship with a boy, but that he IS something. He’s something that he’s not yet ready to accept about himself, but suddenly everyone in school knows it about him? 

To make matters worse, when Isak asks Vilde where she heard it, she mentions that she heard Isak and Even had a thing. So it’s not just that Isak is gay, it’s that Isak had a relationship with Even, like ... exactly how much do they know about his life?

What do you think Even thought about being outed? We don’t know whether he was out or not, whether he was OK with it. He wasn’t wearing a pan pride button until S4. Maybe he was fine with people knowing about his sexuality, but it still wasn’t Emma’s call to make, it was his.

Of course here we learn Emma spilled the beans after hearing it from Sonja. You can imagine how this went: Even told Sonja about him and Isak. I don’t have a problem with him doing that. She was his girlfriend of four years, she deserved to know the truth about why Even was ending their relationship. And she also had graduated and didn’t go to Nissen so she wasn’t exactly enmeshed in the Nissen social sphere, there seemingly wasn’t much risk in telling her. Then Sonja contacted Emma, the sweet first-year girl who she got along with so well, to warn her off Isak. I don’t think it was wrong of her to do this in theory? I guess Sonja could have said, “Hey, Isak is not worth your time,” without going into more details about Isak and Even’s relationship, but who knows how effective that would have been. I get it, she doesn’t want Emma to waste her time and get her heart broken. Ultimately it was Emma’s choice whether to keep Isak’s sexuality to herself or not. And we don’t know exactly how Emma outed Isak, since the details Vilde gives are on the vague side. It could have been Emma venting to a friend but not intending to spread it around school, except someone else happened to overhear. It could have been the friend passing it on to a friend, who passed it on to another friend, and it kept going way more than Emma wanted or predicted. Or, I mean, it could have been Emma really angry at Isak and not bothering to keep it a secret, not understanding the severity of what it’s like to be outed (because it’s 2016, Isak, get out of the closet, geeeeeez).

But whether it was through carelessness or malice, outing Isak was clearly wrong of Emma. And frankly worse than what he did to her - he hurt Emma by leading her on, but outing Isak could have had really bad consequences. Isak is lucky that his friends are good people who accepted him instead of rejecting him. Even if he wasn’t gay-bashed or something extreme like that, he could have had to deal with homophobic assholes at school. We don’t see Isak dealing with homophobes until S4, but it’s not unreasonable to think there would be some shitheads who might use homophobic slurs or make fun of him, laugh at him, etc.

Actually, although he doesn’t really deal with bullying in this season, we do see that he has to deal with people like Vilde and the dance girls, well-intentioned individuals who still make him uncomfortable with inappropriate or generalizing remarks. All of that is a hell of a lot to deal with as a gay teenager. It should have been Isak’s choice when he was ready to deal with all of that by coming out to the school. No matter her intentions, Emma took that away from him.

This is my one substantial critique of the season and the only thing I would change. I think we definitely see that Emma’s actions had negative effects for Isak, but it would have been nice to get more open acknowledgment that outing someone else without their consent is wrong. Either by someone explicitly saying that Emma did something wrong, or by Emma apologizing to Isak for what she did. Or both. Her reaction in her final scene with him does seem like she’s apprehensive about speaking to him, so maybe she realizes she messed up, but it would have been good to get this message vocalized for the audience. Don’t out people against their will.

Vilde says, “Sorry if it’s not true.” But not sorry if it is true, because Vilde doesn’t realize that it’s not the veracity of the rumor, it’s the violation of privacy.

Vilde thinks she’s being an ally, too, except of course her comments are just going to make Isak feel worse. This is what he fears - being judged because he’s gay, coming out = people seeing him as a concept instead of as an individual. Vilde is playing into the same thoughtlessness as Emma in episode 3: she’s making generalizations, and positive generalizations are still a problem. “I love gays!” is dehumanizing. Not all gay people are the same. Some are nice. Some are mean. Some are fun. Some are boring. You know. Like the rest of humanity. She’s showing that she’s slotting Isak into this neat little box, which is what she wants to avoid.

If you’ve read Ulrikke’s Skam fanfic for charity, there’s a bit where Vilde kisses Isak on the cheek because she’s trying to make him her gay best friend. But of course Isak is anything but the “gay best friend” stereotype. 

It is kind of ridiculous to imagine Vilde looking at Isak and going, ah yes, there’s a guy who would make a perfect gay best friend. Like Vilde is expecting a shopping partner or someone to give her grooming tips and romance advice, and instead Isak’s preferred BFF activities would consist of lying around, playing FIFA, and smoking weed.

Clip 3 - Coming out to the boys

Jonas asks the important questions, like how does IKEA name their furniture? (And IKEA had an answer for Jonas.) (They told him to have fun at the pre-drink on Friday, lmao. IKEA was just as deep in Skam hell as the rest of us.)

The random girl saying hello to Isak is one of those innocuous-seeming things that really illustrates the negative effects of being outed. Isak is exposed. He’s suddenly a public figure. Even in a “positive” way that’s a lot to deal with; not to be a broken record but he should have been his choice when to come out so he could prepare himself for this attention. 

Lmao, Magnus and Mahdi have their own little musical duo. Also, David’s rapping and dancing in this scene is the funniest shit. His comedic timing was great in this clip.

You can notice a few subtle differences in how Magnus and Mahdi greet Jonas versus how they greet Isak, because there’s still awkwardness over what happened at Emma’s party. Mahdi doesn’t look at Isak at first.

I don’t usually comment on this type of stuff but this is one of Isak’s fluffiest looks. Whenever he leaves off the snapback? Fluff factor increases 200%. Helps that he spends part of this scene looking skittish as a baby deer.

Jonas is the one to mention Isak’s pre-party, signaling that he is cool with Isak and softening the awkwardness of Isak having to do it. Jonas is such an excellent bro.

Magnus readily agrees to the party; I think he’s just such an easy-going dude and not someone who likes conflict. Jonas semi-subtly asks if they’re all in, and there’s a little moment where Isak and Mahdi exchange a look. Isak says that he won’t get violent this time, which is his way of saying he’s sorry, and Mahdi is cool with it and gives a giant lovely smile. So just like that, peace is restored in the boy squad.

I remember this was the clip where I fully turned around on the boy squad and went from, hmmm, don’t know how I feel about these teenage boys? to I love them FOREVER. Just in time for the magnificent Fredag clip.

Of course, then Magnus just has to bring up that totally wacky rumor about Isak being gay. Lol so funny that everyone thinks that!! Because it’s obviously not true!! The relief Isak must feel at making up with his friends must grind to a halt. Because it’s one thing that they’re forgiven him for the fight, but are they going to be OK with him once they learn he’s gay? He came out to Jonas and it went well, but what about these guys? Coming out is going to have to be a continuous process for him, isn’t it? And maybe it will get easier but can it ever get easy?

 I’m not sure Isak planned to come out to Magnus and Mahdi when he sat down. There’s a text conversation between Isak and Jonas about telling the boys since the rumors went around, but I don’t know if Isak entered the room with the intention of coming out right then and there, or if he was just planning on making amends and then coming out to them in a different scenario, like maybe he wanted to tell them at the pre-drink (hey, it could be easier after a few drinks), but Magnus bringing up the rumors sort of pushed the issue. At least when he came out to Jonas, he got to plan the time and place and had some control over the situation.

Jonas is there, though, and he realizes that this conversation could head into uncomfortable territory for Isak. The upside is that Isak does have Jonas there for emotional support, he has at least one friend he knows has his back about being gay, he’s not doing this alone. I live for Jonas glancing at Isak during this conversation to check on how he’s doing. Which is not great - Isak is REALLY uncomfortable listening to Magnus and Mahdi talk about the rumors.

I really like how they handle this part of the conversation, though, regarding the rumors about Mahdi fighting Isak for being gay. It puts Isak and Mahdi, who haven’t always gotten along this season, on similar ground. Mahdi is also a victim of a stereotyping and generalizing, both “neutral” and negative - that he’s Muslim when he’s not, that he’s homophobic when he’s not. Assumptions that are certainly made because of his race. I can’t speak for Norwegians specifically, but it’s a widespread stereotype that POC are less tolerant of LGBT people and more likely to be homophobic. It’s a good thing for Julie to casually include a rejection of that stereotype. Also that Mahdi is really bothered and not amused by other people thinking he’s a homophobe. Magnus thinks this whole thing is so ridiculous it’s funny, while the others really don’t find it funny at all; it’s shitty for Isak and Mahdi personally, and Jonas knows that Isak is struggling.

I do love Magnus overall but I want to duct tape his mouth shut for a large part of this conversation.

Okay, he drives me up the wall here but admittedly I do get a laugh out of that satisfied huff he gives at the end of the talk, like “Good chat, glad we got that cleared up.” Having no idea the seriousness of this conversation.

Poor Isak. His discomfort throughout this clip is very well-acted, good job, Tarjei. He can’t even look his friends in the eye at the beginning. 

And that eye contact Jonas shares with him before Isak starts to tell them the truth!!!! Best bro!!!! He also keeps looking to Jonas for support during the talk, before he tells the boys about Even.

The way Isak comes out here is roundabout, just like before. Like he did with Jonas, he builds up to it - he’s not just like, “Well, there’s some truth to the rumors,” or anything so direct. He starts by winding into the story about the dance chicks, taking some time to get to the point. He needs to work up to saying the words.

An interesting part is when Isak asks if they remember the guy who came up to them and Magnus is like, “The gay guy?” and Isak wants to know why he thinks he was gay. Because Isak is of course thinking about Even, not the random dance instructor. But there’s some stuff to unpack with how Isak gets maybe a little tense or alert about Magnus thinking Even is gay. There are a couple ways you could read his reaction: that Isak is still dealing with what it means to be gay and to be seen as gay, the social perception of it, and can’t turn off the part of his brain that’s full of anxiety about seeming gay, and wants to know what it is Magnus picked up about Even - could it apply to Isak, too? Or that Isak is still thinking about Eskild’s guru advice and Even’s general hot and cold-ness and wondering if Even really is gay (or bi, or pan, or into dudes) and wanting another take on it? Or you know, just confusion over how Magnus could know that much with such a brief interaction. 

To be fair, all of these interpretations assume Isak believes Magnus is capable of a deeper level of perception that he perhaps is, lmao. Or, on the other hand, if someone like Magnus could pick up that Even was perhaps gay after seeing him for like 10 seconds, then what does that say about how people see Isak? 

It’s honestly pretty funny that Isak is like “Don’t you remember the guy who was such a tall swoopy-haired drink of water? Didn’t him returning Jonas’ hat burn into your minds for all eternity until you pass from this world and it’ll be the last thing you see on your deathbed?” Isak, those guys were in a dance girls coma, a random dude returning a hat was mostly a non-event to them. (Yes, Jonas remembered that moment and figured out he must be Isak’s crush, but Jonas is the The Best Friend and paying close attention to all Isak-related anomalies.)

Once more, Isak comes out to people not by saying he’s gay, but by describing his actions (“We’ve had a thing”). Quickly reinforced by Magnus asking whether he’s gay and Isak reflexively rejecting the label. It goes from Isak saying, This is what I did and Magnus saying, So this is who you are? and Isak saying, No, that’s not who I am. Well, maybe a little bit.

I mean, he does say he’s a little bit gay, but I feel like that’s a concession that yeah, hooking up with a dude is not a straight thing to do, he probably feels like it would be stupid to pretend otherwise. But him fumbling with the gay label here shows how concerned he still is about the perception of others about his sexuality. He still has hangups about what it means to be gay and wants to distance himself from societal stereotypes, and he quickly backs into a defense of himself. Isak might be a little gay but he’s not SO gay he’s into every guy he meets. Which should be obvious - he’s not into every guy out there just as these straight boys are not attracted to every single girl on the planet. But Isak is very insecure. Like at its core, this part is sad to me, because he wants to make sure these other guys are not uncomfortable with him and they don’t see him as a threat. It’s completely understandable why he has these insecurities, because of homophobic ideas about predatory gay men, but it’s still depressing that he feels he needs to defend himself when the words about him having a relationship with a guy are barely out of his mouth.

However, here is another really good moment! Magnus is confused because Isak (in his eyes) hooks up with girls all the time, and Isak doesn’t really know how to say he was lying or faking, or he doesn’t want to say he is not into girls at all yet (because if he’s like, “I’m not into girls,” Magnus is going to be like, “Sooo… you are gay?”) BUT before Isak has to handle this deeply awkward moment, blessed Mahdi is like, “Well, he could be pansexual?” THANK GOD. We as the audience know that Isak is not pan (or bi) but it’s completely reasonable as an outside suggestion that Isak might be. So often this is framed as one or the other, Isak could only be gay or straight. A lot of canons won’t even bring up bisexuality, and it’s really rare to hear pansexuality mentioned at all. Bravo, Skam. 🙌

So this tense moment where Isak is suddenly put on the spot and potentially asked to explain his sexual history is diverted by his friends casually discussing and debating pansexuality and bisexuality. Is this the most #woke way they could have talked about it? Well, no, but it’s a realistic discussion and certainly a good thing for the teenage audience to hear. These characters are not experts on every social issue out there, but they’re open to being educated and sharing knowledge with each other.

Like I kind of laugh at Isak pursing his lips, suddenly excluded from his own coming out while his friends debate labels. In a way it is weird that they’re suddenly talking about whether Isak could be bi or pan right in front of him, but not with him, just among themselves. It’s meant in a good-natured way though, they’re trying to understand him. And Isak must find this deeply surreal but preferable to being grilled personally on how he identifies. Of course they could have just asked him whether he was bi or pan but I don’t think Isak was ready to answer that question.

King Jonas is like “However, he identifies, he’s having a pre-party on Friday,” because hey, that’s the most important thing here, where and when they can get drunk. (For real, bless Jonas for changing the subject before it got too strange.)

Magnus using the f-slur is jarring and not excusable and I mean, I hope Jonas later on was like, “Don’t say that word, dumbass,” and Magnus went home and Googled words not to use when your bro might be pansexual and educated himself. I’m not excusing him, but I don’t think we don’t hear anything like that from him later so hopefully he wised the fuck up.

But again, duct tape.

At least Isak does not seem rattled by it and uses the opportunity to roast Magnus. Because it’s just so easy.

Not gonna lie, the clip ending so abruptly after Magnus is like, “Huh?” makes me laugh.

Clip 4 - Love letter, kinda

Is this the shortest individual clip in all of Skam? It’s less than a minute long. I can’t remember any others that are shorter.

I love that Isak stops and takes a moment to size up his locker, bracing himself for his daily battle. And that it just … doesn’t happen. He’s downright stunned when the locker doesn’t fight him and gives way easily. Isn’t it wonderful when a problem that’s been bothering you is finally gone?

Regarding Isak’s locker of character development, the meaning is very clear. Isak came out to his friends and it’s not the end of the world. They accept him. So his locker (closet) can open without a struggle. He’s not stuck in the closet or struggling to keep his secrets from spilling out. It’s fine. It’s such a simple metaphor but it’s lovely.

And on top of that, he has another message from Even!

Even drew that damn phone twice, you can see subtle differences in each version (besides the obvious text messages).

Again, I love Even’s sketches so much. He’s has such a clever, creative, romantic mind. The “this universe” side of the sketch is acknowledgment that he received Isak’s message, but didn’t reply. The “same time in a completely different universe” sketch is what he feels he SHOULD have done, what he wanted to do but couldn’t get the courage to do, or felt he couldn’t. It’s so poignant! There’s so much longing! I swoon. 

This sketch is an apology, too, because he knows Isak must have been hurt by Even leaving him hanging yet again, especially right after Even must have given him some hope with the cheese toastie sketch. This is Even acknowledging that he should have replied and in a better world, he would have.

It makes you think so much about what was holding Even back. I don’t think it was just Sonja (tbh I wonder if Sonja was really in the picture, to be discussed later), I think it was just simply his hesitance over Isak’s comment about mentally ill people. He gave Isak the cheese toastie sketch because he saw Isak was sad and wanted to let him know Even still cared, that his feelings were still there. But then, you know, Isak found the sketch and sent Even a text, and interacting with Isak again just made Even have another round of doubts. He felt like he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be continuing this thing with Isak or encouraging it. But at the same time, Even does not want Isak to be in pain. And despite his reservations, despite everything standing in his way, Even wants Isak.

The “miss you” is such a punch in the gut, too. Like we know Even misses Isak because he drew them having cheese toasties together, in another, better universe. But it’s also good to see him state the words so directly. Again, the longing. My heart can’t take it.

This is the drawing that ends up on the wall of the Evak apartment in S4. Isak saved it and they both decided to put it up, even when all the drama had passed, because it was special to them. I like to think it’s a reminder to them of what they went through to be together, and to treasure their life in the present, because going through hell was worth it to arrive at their happiness together.

Look at Isak’s little smile, awwwww.

Not to ruin this beautiful moment or anything but as people have pointed out, Tarjei is reacting to a blank piece of paper.

I think I’ve said this before but looking at Even’s drawing here reminded me of how I am an utter wreck of a human being when I think about his drawings being in the S3 header. Just Isak surrounded by Even’s sketches. Even’s mind, Even’s personality. Even as an integral part of the season, of Isak’s story. I see an Illuminati symbol surrounded by dicks and I’m overcome with emotion. This season still got its claws in me, goddamn.

Clip 5 - REUNION CLIP

This clip is just so heartwarming. When this aired the Skam train had left the station, internationally speaking, and the fandom was so happy and having such a good time with this quality content. It’s really amazing how fast the fandom grew. I think the reaction to this clip was maybe when it sank in for me that Skam was getting big on Tumblr.

The boys talking about russ music at parties reminds me of how S3 is so devoid of anything russ-related compared to other seasons. If Skam had continued until graduation, do you think we’d see the boy squad participating in russ at all, or would they opt out? I mean, I guess we have Jonas’ thoughts on the matter, but what about the others? We don’t see them planning anything, obviously, but a lot of us wanted to see the boys in those overalls. How common is it not to participate?

The way Jonas says “Nate Dogg” cracks me up.

Isak is trying, really trying to get invested in this conversation, but his mind can’t help but roam elsewhere, to Evenland. He is wearing the exact same outfit as in the Bros clip of episode 5, and it’s a similar setup, scene-wise - he’s at a pre-drink with his boys and they’re engaged in a conversation, but he’s very disconnected from it all. The difference here is that Isak has re-established that social connection with them, so Jonas is quick to notice Isak really isn’t there with them, and he checks with Isak. Not just how Isak is feeling right then and there, but making sure to ask about the Even situation. Jonas can deduce that whatever’s got Isak in a mood, it’s probably Even-related. And because Isak has opened up to Jonas, he doesn’t have to sit there in misery the whole time.

The setup of this scene is subtly different from the Bros clip, too. In that one, the boys were all on different pieces of furniture - Magnus and Mahdi on some couch, Jonas across from them on a chair, and Isak between them on another chair - and it made it easy for Isak to sit there disengaged from the group because of the distance. Here they’re all sitting around the same table, a united front, and it’s not as easy for Isak to detach himself. He’s in the same place as they are, he’s level with them.

When Isak says Even has a girlfriend, Magnus asks if he is pansexual. HOW RIGHT YOU ARE, SON. Look at Magnus, using his new vocabulary. 

These boys are just darling. I kind of love how Jonas is the friend who is like 100% Team You, like … the friend who will join in with you when you’re spilling your romance woes and be like, “What is his DEAL?” and give you all that commiseration you want, but also the advice you need to hear. And Magnus is like oooo, are we talking about Even? Isak’s friends want all the dirt on their boy’s boy. Like they are invested, they are ready and willing to hear about Isak’s interpersonal issues. 

But isn’t it nice for Isak to be able to talk about this with people? That once he’s no longer keeping this huge secret, he can talk with his friends about his romance problems, just like they can talk about their girl drama? It’s no different than Magnus talking about Vilde, except with less TMI. That’s the obvious contrast between this scene and the Bros clip. Isak starts off detached in both scenes, but in this one the boys bring him back in.

And to be fair, Isak could hypothetically had shitty friends who didn’t accept him, or who were theoretically OK with him being gay but didn’t actually want to hear him talk about hooking up with boys because it made them uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that happens in real life. Like … Isak was not unjustified in his fears and in his keeping secrets. It’s just that his friends turned out to be great, and that opening up to them was a positive step.

One annoying part about coming out to his friends: Isak having to deal with Magnus’ incredibly heterosexual questions. But also, it’s nice that the other boys are clearly rolling their eyes and groaning at Magnus being a dumbass, it’s treated as Magnus bieng inappropriate. And this exchange is a small but valid misconception to include in the show, because it’s a big thing for straight people to ask who’s the man and who’s the woman in a gay relationship - they’re still mapping the relationship onto heteronormative roles. Each romantic relationship MUST have a man or woman role in it. And of course that’s not the case. Not to mention this question is also clearly linked to sexual roles, like … two men having sex are two men. It doesn’t matter what they’re doing during that sex. No one’s the “woman.” (I mean, I think Magnus is asking how they decide who’s the top and who’s the bottom? But there are no guidelines for that, either, lol. Those are things people decide as individuals when having sex, it’s not a universal rule who does what. Or I guess Magnus is just very confused about how gay sex works, lmao.)

Magnus’ question always reminds me of this scene from The Office.

Isak’s roast of Magnus here is one of the finest roasts I’ve ever heard, like someone serve it with carrots and enter it in the county fair because it’ll win a blue ribbon. He goes in for the drag about straight sex and then circles back for a snap at Magnus’ lack of action! Double roasted! So roasted it’s burnt! You’re going to be chewing on that sucker and end up spitting it into a napkin. Even Jonas is impressed.

Lmao, I know Magnus is meant to be the clueless straight guy, but I like headcanoning him as stumbling into a bisexual epiphany in a few years. Like sometime after he graduates he’ll be like … ohhhhhh, that’s why I had those questions about gay sex for Isak and was so invested in Evak and was struck speechless by Even. 

JONAS IS THE FUCKING BEST, LISTEN TO HIM AND HIS WISE OLD WIZARD EYEBROWS, ISAK

Really, Jonas just cuts past the bullshit and says for Isak to put his foot down about this whole Even situation. It’s now or never. Stop letting Even play with your heart. Did Jonas have a flair for relationship advice when he and Eva were together, or has he gained some wisdom from his own experience with love drama?

This scene is just such a joy! Usually in media, the gay characters are the ones who help out the straight characters with their romantic drama. Here it’s the opposite. Especially because these are straight boys who are completely fine with giving their gay bro advice on how to get his man. This is honestly great of Julie to normalize this behavior. I’ve heard comments that maybe this situation is idealized, that the boy squad are so cool with everything, but you know what? Skam, for all its realism, is frequently about ideal outcomes - not just how things are, but how they should be. Giving teenagers a roadmap of how to react in unknown situations.  

Also, how great is it that Isak has been listening to endless conversations about girls, sitting through dance chicks performances, basically going through all these social rituals and bonding with his friends over heterosexual desire, feeling so isolated from it all, and now finally he’s included? His coming out has opened the door for Isak to both be honest about his own attraction to men and no longer having to feign interest in girls. Freeeedoooooom!

The boys are also using their knowledge of dating girls to help out Isak, translating it to him dating a boy. And I mean, there is a different social context with straight relationships and gay relationships, so their advice might not always fit perfectly with Isak’s situation. However, it matters that they’re not othering Isak (well, Magnus is with his questions, but those are laughed at and shut down). They’re able to maintain an easy connection with Isak, not filtering him through a different lens because he’s into a guy. Which is absolutely what Isak wants, to be treated the same.

Isak is very encouraged by the boys telling him to put Even on the spot and be blunt with him about what’s happening with them. I think it’s funny that Magnus is like, “Yeah, it sucks when she leaves you on read,” and we hear it happens to him all the time. Somehow that does not surprise me!

Isak is friendlier and not as blunt as Jonas encouraged him to be in the text message to Even, thanking Even for the drawing at the beginning. He’s human, he’s soft for Even, he can’t totally hide it. But he does make it clear that if Even doesn’t want something more, then this needs to end. 

“Call me when you’ve broken up with your girlfriend.” What a line. You harness that self-respect, Isak.

They’re all so proud of their boy Isak for standing up for himself. They’re even like “Bros! Brothers!” when they clink their cans. You have to imagine that even if this thing with Even hadn’t worked out, Isak had a strong support system to get him through the heartbreak.

Lmao, Even answers immediately. Isak giving him that ultimatum and laying down the law really made him sweat, huh.

No, really, let’s talk about what Even thought when he got this text.

Now personally I believe Even was no longer in a clear relationship with Sonja when he got this text. I think whatever happened with them at Emma’s party was either temporary or ill-defined, and they were still technically on a break through all of this. Mostly because Even ends up getting to Isak’s apartment SO FAST. Like ... was Even breaking up with Sonja as he was running out the door??? Did he shoot her a break-up text during the night, after when Isak was asleep? I’d like to think he didn’t do Sonja that dirty. 

But yeah, Even responds so quickly. Right after Isak sends that first text, Even realizes that he might lose him. And after all this hesitation, knowing that Isak doesn’t want mentally ill people around, fearing that he could hurt Isak, that Isak could reject him once he finds out the truth … after his efforts to push Isak away, Even can’t do it. When Isak makes plain that Even has to put up or shut up, it takes zero time for Even to make a decision. Or at least, he has to talk to Isak. The thought of losing Isak outweighs any other concerns he might have. There’s something about the simplicity of it that gets me. When there’s no time or room for doubt, Even chooses Isak in a heartbeat. 

Jonas is of course the master of strategic texting. Don’t call Even, because calling will put you on the spot and bring you closer together than texting. Isak has to be a little aloof, make Even think he’s really about to let go. Play it cool. The magic words are Chiller hjemme. Lets him know you might be available, but you’re not desperate to talk with him. (Seriously, how did Jonas get this smooth?? I assume from experience but lmao, the evolution between S1 and S3 Jonas is like ... Bulbasaur and Venusaur.) (I don’t know Pokemon that well, if there’s one that has magnificent eyebrows please let me know.)

Isak’s facial expressions throughout this whole texting debate are so funny to me. He’s practically a wide-eyed innocent? He’s so earnest, he really does want to talk to Even! Plus with his little curls popping out from under his snapback, he looks very young and fresh-faced to the whole ultimatum via text message thing.

And he keeps wanting to add more to the text, like “just call me,” or suggesting a smiley, and Jonas shoots that shit down. What a character moment, honestly? Isak the young inexperienced texter and Jonas who has gone through multiple desired relationships. It is really cute that Isak wants to add a smiley! But Jonas is right, it completely would have made him seem too eager and destroyed the perception of aloofness. 

What smiley would he have landed on, though? 😀 or 🙂 or 😁 or 😎? I’m partial to the sunglasses emoji myself. Chiller hjemme 😎

There is a conversation to be had, by academics who study the impact of modern technology on everyday communication, about the instinctive knowledge these teenagers have about subtleties in non-verbal expression, such as recognizing the impact that a smiley can have in changing the tone of a text message, and combing Skam for all related examples of strategic use of electronic messaging and/or social media to send messages to their peers.

STRAIGHT UP

Sometimes I think Marlon’s finest acting on the show is that self-assured look he gives Isak when he says Even will call, or that gasp of overjoyed satisfaction when Even shows up at the door a few minutes later. Those are just some damn fine expressions.

This moment where the boys sit in silence, waiting for the text, is so good! They’re hooked into the drama! They want their boy to get his man! And that forlorn shot of the phone sitting on the table among the beer cans, inactive. Not lighting up with the desired response from Even.

It’s also really sweet when the boys try to offer suggestions why Even isn’t responding. Even Magnus has a reasonable idea about checking the typing bubble. When it seems like Isak has given up, Mahdi says maybe Even is just somewhere he can’t talk right now. (Which was accurate, seeing as Even was probably hauling ass over to Isak’s apartment.)

Poor Isak, you could see how he was getting hopeful and feeling better when this whole texting idea started, he was proud of himself for being proactive and putting his foot down with Even’s indecisiveness, he had a little smile and some light in his eyes. And now, the resignation is seeping in. Tarjei does a lot of these smaller reactions so well. Isak is still smiling a little, but it’s bitter, he’s telling them that Even is going to flake again. I mean, I’m not even sure Isak is totally convinced that Even won’t respond. I feel like he does still have that spark of hope, he’s just trying to tamp it down. He knows Even has a history of running hot and cold and he doesn’t want to get too optimistic.

Guys, I’m so emotional about these kids. Tarjei is such a good actor that all of his micro-expressions are giving me pinpricks to my heart. And I’ve seen this a million times and I know that in less than five minutes Isak’s going to be shaking off his virginity like he’s a golden retriever come in from the rain, BUT. But I feel so bad for this kid and his disappointed face.

And the rest of the boys, too. They’re there with their friend Isak getting his heart broken. Even, you’re letting down not just the man of your life, but the whole crew!!! 

The other boys try to make some conversation about other topics but Isak just sits there, checking his phone again. At this point, watching the clip for the first time, I definitely thought Even was headed over to Isak’s - no way could they have this random conversation about fermenting beer at school without something big to interrupt it. Also, we hadn’t seen Even at all this week, so he probably had to make an appearance. Still, that wait? Feels like forever.

THAT DOORBELL RING, YESSSSSS. Didn’t our hearts leap up at that simple sound?

How Even got there so fast is such a mystery, too. I guess he doesn’t live that far away, and he could have taken his bike, but I mean, he’s literally there in two minutes after Isak sends the Chiller hjemme text. Two minutes! Sometimes it takes me two minutes just to put on my shoes and leave the house.

I kind of like the idea that maybe Even was already in the neighborhood, or out for a walk or something, trying to work up the courage to go over to Isak. There’s an Instagram post from Magnus of the boys drinking in the kitchen, so if Even happened to see it, he could recognize it as Isak’s kitchen, he could know Isak was at home, he might find himself wandering in that direction….

Lmao, I love them asking Isak if he invited more people and Isak being like, nah, you guys are the only friends I have. It’s kind of self-deprecating but uh … also true. And of course that’s why it was important for these bros to accept Isak’s sexuality.

The boys are really into saying Eskild’s name for some reason, they do it in episode 2 as well. WHERE IS MY ESKILD/BOY SQUAD INTERACTION. I wrote this in the episode 2 recap but I want to know what the boys thought of Eskild, especially prior to Isak coming out, because that probably would have influenced Isak’s attitude toward coming out to his friends?

We don’t get a shot of Even standing outside the building, even though it would be within Isak’s POV. I’m assuming because it would have been too complicated or time-consuming to film for just a short shot. Or maybe for Dramatic purposes, it’s more striking to just have Even appear after the week by smoldering in the doorway, and it heightens Isak’s brief anxiety by keeping Even’s reveal in suspense. But what do you suppose Even was doing outside as he waited? Bouncing up and down nervously as he tends to do? Hands in his pockets? Panting from getting to Isak as fast as he could?

Speaking of Drama, lmao how dramatic is Even, that he just SHOWS UP, in the time it takes to make toaster strudel, with no warning? Hypothetically he could’ve texted I’m coming over to Isak, but of course that would ruin the intended effect of Even just landing at Isak’s door. It’s such a cinematic movie. I think love of movies is so ingrained into Even’s personality that sometimes he just does what a romantic comedy protagonist would do.

Or else Even was just not thinking anything but Isak Isak Isak must get to Isak and didn’t even consider anything but getting his ass in motion. Which frankly, I think is quite likely!

This is a very minor point but the way this clip was filmed always throws me when Isak gets up and we see how tiny the table is. They show it at the start of the clip, but the texting debate feels like some knights of the round table shit in terms of importance. It feels like it should be way bigger and instead they’re sitting at this little square.

The boys are so delighted that Even is there. And it makes me laugh so hard that Magnus is excited about getting to meet Even, L M A O. I mean, even if he assumed that Isak and Even were just going to have a long talk and not bang it out, how awkward would that have been? Who wants to meet your friend’s sorta-maybe-potential boyfriend when they’re presumably about to have a serious discussion about the fragile state of their relationship?

And of course Isak is like FUCK THAT about his friends meeting Even right then and there. Tarjei’s delivery of, “You can’t meet him, what the fuck are you saying?” is perhaps underrated in its comedy.

Lmao, Isak gets so cranky here, too, he went from soft “Smiley?” Isak to RARRRRR grumpy teenage boy in like two seconds. All thanks to Even’s presence, of course!

Bless Jonas yet again for just immediately starting to pack up, no questions asked.

This is a Romeo + Juliet song when the boys start leaving ( “Local God” by Everclear”). I believe it was used in the film when Romeo and his crew are hanging out, so it’s a bro song. We don’t hear any of the lyrics in the clip but they sure are interesting:

I feel just like a local god when I'm with the boys. We do what we want, yes, we do what we want. I feel just like a local god when I'm with the boys.  We do what we want, yes, we do what we want. We do what we want. Yeah, we do what we want. Be my Romeo,  Tell me all about your love,  Tell me all about your pain, Baited breath and rubber gloves.  Be my Romeo,  My go-go Romeo,  I see you twist and turn,  You look so fuckin' stupid.

So yes, bro song with direct mentions of Romeo.

All the chaos and casual catastrophe of the boys getting up to leave, I love it. It’s all the typical stuff when you leave a party - where’s my phone, where are my shoes, what’s happening, etc.

Also that Isak herds them out the back door, he really does not want Even to meet them, it’s gonna be too awkward and it’ll be anything but chill if Even knows Isak sent his friends away to get some alone time with Even.

“These aren’t even my shoes!” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH, I truly love these teenage failboats with all my heart.

They are champs for leaving when Isak asked them to, like even with all the confusion this was relatively swift and efficient.

Oh my God, guys. When Isak shuts the door, "Local God” (the song associated with his friends) instantly stops, and he is left there alone, for just a second, and the opening of Lykke Li’s “Tonight” starts … I get butterflies in my stomach. Isak is nervous, I’m nervous, we’re all nervous. What good directing from Julie, switching so quickly from a comedic mood to this vulnerable romantic mood, and how she can do that in just a few seconds with some well-chosen music and a moment to breathe.

Yeah, that moment to breathe, from Isak … where he shuts the door and looks toward the other side where Even is knocking, and takes just a brief pause to collect himself, and you can see how unsure of himself he is … good acting, good directing, just. Good.

AND THEN HE OPENS THE DOOR AND EVEN LOOKS LIKE THAT

I honestly do not feel Isak opened the door with the intention of getting laid, or that Even came over with the intention of getting laid. Especially Even, actually. I think Even really just panicked at the thought of losing Isak and ran over. It’s possible that maybe Even was even going to explain a bit - I don’t know if he was going to go over everything, necessarily, but I think Even wanted to make some things clear - that he wasn’t with Sonja, or that he wanted to be with Isak. I don’t know how he would have brought up his bipolar disorder though I guess it’s possible he could have pushed himself to do so. And maybe in that little pause moment, before Isak opened the door, he thought to himself about the possibilities of what could happen when they were alone, but it was wrapped up in every other uncertainty or fear, such as Even dumping him or saying he wanted to end it, or that he couldn’t leave Sonja. But it all changed when Isak opened the door and they looked at each other; they had missed each other so much and wanted each other so much that talk wasn’t happening.

Even looks really rattled and vulnerable when Isak first opens the door, I’m sure he’s thinking over how he’s going to explain himself, maybe psyching himself up to disclose his mental illness, as mentioned. But he softens a little when he registers Isak, because despite everything, it’s Isak.

Isak is trying to keep it together and play it cool at first and then Even Hallas at him a few octaves lower than normal so that’s not happening. Lawd, Henrik.

Even starts to look a little hesitant and nervous again as they pause too long at the door, like, oh right, I ran over here without a clear invitation. Is this okay? Am I welcome? Should I go?

But obviously Isak is just like, fuck it, and goes in for the kiss. CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Isak initiated the kiss, Isak has been proactive throughout the evening, Isak is more assured in his sexuality that he can do this.

You know what else has experienced character development? Isak’s tongue. 

The first time I watched that part I think my eyebrows legit jumped off my face. No offense but gay storylines on TV frequently feature dry, tight-lipped, no-homo kissing so it’s nice when actors actually kiss like they mean it. Isak and Even really want each other, it’s believable.

But seriously, this is actual progress for Isak and demonstrates that he’s more grounded and confident in his sexuality.

That moment when they break off the kiss for just a second - I’m pretty sure it’s Even who breaks it off to look at Isak, as if to ask whether he’s sure he wants this. And Isak wastes barely any time before diving back in, by way of an answer. Not gonna lie, that moment when characters stop kissing to look at each other, searching for an answer in the other’s face, is one of those romance tropes that I enjoy, so this was a good scene for me.

Even lost his denim jacket somewhere between the front hallway and Isak’s bedroom, by the way. I’m just imagining Eskild or Noora stepping over it when they got home and being like, yep, Isak had a busy night. (Linn would probably step on the jacket and not notice.)

Even shoves Isak against a wall because he is living that fanfic life.

Kudos once again to Tarjei and Henrik because they really keep kissing and stay in their character’s passionate mindset. There’s a moment where they sort of break off to start undressing and Even swoops in for another brief kiss - it feels like these two seriously can’t stop kissing, they want to be kissing, and it’s a small moment but it makes it feel like they genuinely desire each other.

Lol, Even was going to take off his hoodie first but then decided to divest Isak of his shirt, what a gentleman.

I don’t know why I love that snapback coming off but I do. It’s just funny to me in a way? Like the snapback would get knocked off anyway when Isak took off his shirt but he’s instead he has to make a Moment of it. You know shit’s getting real when the hat comes off.

This bit that goes from against the wall to in the middle of the room shirtless (they moved around!) is just so tender??? Like that bit where Even taps Isak’s lip with his thumb and gets in a quick nose rub. What the fuck. 

I mentioned this in my episode 5 review but this scene is what made up the footage in the mysterious hiatus trailer that had everyone in a tizzy for 10 days, except not all of the footage in that trailer made it into this clip, so there’s extra Evak sex scene footage out there. I am sure this would be of interest to no one, obviously.

Not to be weird but I legit think it is nice that Tarjei is doing this scene with this large zit on his forehead because that’s OK! People don’t have perfect skin when they have sex. 

I feel like Isak is having a spiritual experience when Even goes down his body, like he’s not even entirely there. Is this happening to me??? 

Also, totally a callback to the very first scene of the season, when Emma tries to blow Isak in the bathroom and he’s not having it. He does not express such reluctance when Even goes down on him. A+ narrative parallels, Julie, A+.

But this was a really good first time scene (if you believe, as I do, that this was their first time together) and a lovely sex scene that wasn’t either too exploitative or too coy. The Evak sex scenes are handled very well in this season. 

And Lykke Li’s “Tonight” was a gooooood choice. How simple and painful is the desire behind those lyrics. You can just imagine how Isak and Even have been missing each other and pining, and how this song expresses the feeling that they don’t want to let each other go. And all this emotion goes unspoken, tonight they’re not going to talk about their heartbreak, tonight they’re just going to show each other all that pent-up longing.

But also, the end song over the credits, “Crave” by Pharrell Williams??? Spectacular. We watch this emotional scene set to this incredibly sweet song full of longing and vulnerability and then the credit song is just like … sex. Sex is a thing that is happening. It is the equivalent of an eyebrows waggle and a suggestive wink. Bet you can guess what they were doing after the credits rolled!

I love this show so much, oh my God.

Social Media/General Comments:

The text that Isak sends in reply to Even’s cheese toastie drawing seems so polite, like Isak rewrote it a million times trying to decide on the right tone and phrasing and everything and finally went for something very neutral, trying to reestablish the conversation between the two of them without seeming too eager.

Eskild sends Isak a long-ish text after their talk on Sunday, where he basically strives to give Isak more encouragement. You can tell he really thought over what he said to Isak because he truly wants to be helpful to him and be a good guru. He realizes Isak is young and probably in his first relationship with a guy, and Eskild can’t help but feel protective and not want Isak to get his heart broken. It’s honestly such a sweet message, because Eskild is first and foremost looking out for Isak’s well-being. Like … there’s a thing in media (and fanfic, sometimes) where a character’s friends are more concerned with making sure their romance works out, rather than whether this romance is right and good for the friend. Isak’s friends in this season are supportive of Evak, but they’re Team Isak first, and they’re not afraid to tell Isak when they think Even is doing Isak dirty or when it might not work out. See also: Jonas in this week’s Fredag clip.

Anyway, Eskild tells Isak how happy he is that Isak came to him for advice, and that’s beautiful. It’s supportive of Isak relying on his friends rather than bottling up his feelings. And he says that he thinks Isak is brave- incredible, show-stopping, spectacular, etc. I mean telling Isak he is brave? What a wonderful thing to say to a kid who’s still in the early stages of coming out and is dealing with a ton of insecurities. Eskild is the fucking best, guys.

But he’s also offering to hook up Isak with someone and help him move on to another guy if that’s what Isak wants, lol. Getting in his jab about tights and mascara but in a good-natured way.

You know who else is the fucking best? Jonas. Isak texts him about the rumors with Even spreading and Jonas is so supportive and sweet, offering to talk to the guys for Isak and telling him not to stress over it. With a heart emoji, no less ❤️

Isak also decides that he should be the one to tell the guys. My brave boy!

Jonas also posts an IG on the same day of the text with him and Isak as Simon & Garfunkel, with the hashtag #bros. Basically a show of support for Isak. Like. CAN YOU BELIEVE. My heart gets so warm thinking about these kids. Skam is a space heater for my soul.

Text between Kollektivet where Linn does not want to leave on Friday and Eskild is dragging Linn out of her cave. I mean, sometimes you want to chill, but this is probably good for Linn. Get her out of the house.

Text between the boy squad after Isak comes out to all of them. They’re able to rib him about his “family dinner” so things are back to normal.

I want to mention that Isak uses a Broad City gif. I don’t know if Isak actually watches Broad City, but the idea is pretty funny.

I know Magnus can be dense as hell but he uses a gif of Sam Rockwell in Galaxy Quest in response to Isak’s drag and like, Galaxy Quest is the greatest film of all time so clearly Magnus is a man of superior taste and intellect.

PS he says something that translates to “never giving up hope” and I’m going to take that he meant “never give up, never surrender.”

Mahdi says Friday is going to be nice because “bros united.” Awwww! That’s especially nice coming from him since he and Isak had the friction; I feel like this is his way of saying he’s really over what happened between them and he just wanted them all to be OK.

I remember when this episode was airing in real time, people had a lot of theories about what would happen on Friday. Jonas mentions an Elvebakken party and Magnus mentions a gay bar. I remember people thinking they might go to the Elvebakken and see Even, or hear about Even’s past from Bakka people, or that they’d go to the gay bar and Isak would hook up with someone or run into Even or something. Instead Isak never made it out of his apartment, lmao.

Also, Magnus being like, “I’m up for a gay bar” is not hurting my bi Magnus headcanon at all. I know, I know, he’s that bumbling straight friend. Still!

Isak texts Eskild about his second drawing and Eskild is like, “Play hard to get.” Which obviously did not work on Friday. He also calls Isak his little godkitten which is. Adorable.

As I mentioned above, Magnus posted a pic of the boy squad at the pre-drink and that’s why I think Even might have seen it and moseyed over in that direction and was already lurking in the vicinity, as to account for him showing up so fast.

[canvaswolfdoll]

CanvasWatches: Dragon Pilot: Hisone and Masotan

Not going to do a Summer 2018 write up because I only lasted through one anime, and Chio’s School Road had… issues I don’t feel like discussing.

Also, haven’t had time to continue the Digimon Rewatch (which is exclusive to the Patreon until I finish season one).

Doesn’t mean I’ve been slacking! Netflix’s most recent license camping for it’s tedious binge watch format is Dragon Pilot: Hisone and Masotan, which was a delight to watch! Go watch it, right now! Do it!

Anyways, time for my… whatever this thing is... on it.

Hisone is a woman who joined the airforce because, near as I can tell, she didn’t have any other ideas for what to put on her school’s career plan worksheet that shows up in every anime, and she saw a fighter plane soar by.

There’s… worse motivations, I guess?

Anyways, while working a desk job, she’s invited to an interview at a far away hangar.

She goes to the hangar and is promptly eaten by a dragon.

But it’s okay! The dragon just wanted to eat her old flip phone! And the crew got her thrown up pretty quick! And now they want her to pilot the dragon.

By getting swallowed and controlling the thing but prodding its soft innards.

Anime

So, Dragons are a thing that exist, and the world governments have been helping hiding them because… that’s the deal they made? Anyways, Japan hides their dragons as fighter planes, and has their air force manage them.

Because we need to explain this bizarre premise somehow.

Dragons are selective about who they will swallow and not digest, and Hisone is one of those lucky few. So she’s a D-Pilot now, which is probably a promotion from her ill-defined desk job.

Also, now she has to put up with Nao Kaizaki, initially the only member of Gifu Base’s D-Pi program, and a woman who couldn’t get the dragon to swallow her, so her position is more theoretical.

Kaizaki is introduced exhibiting the mannerisms of your typical High School Thug boy character, so you know she’ll be interesting.[1]

Hisone’s superior officer, Remi Kakiyasu, was also once a candidate for dragon piloting who couldn’t get the dragon to accept her. So the entire program is kind of low on practical experience.

Then there’s the woman selling yogurt who is clearly important, but it’ll take a few episodes for yogurt woman to reveal her purpose.

So Kaizaki and Kakiyasu train Hisone up as she comes to grips with her new responsibilities.

Hisone finds a plaque embedded in the dragon to learn his name is Masotan.

And so, the title is complete.

Then three more pilots fly in in episode 4, and the main plot starts to meander in a direction.

Let’s meet the other three team members!

Elle Hoshino: Enlisted to become the first female fighter pilot, and is displeased to have been placed on the OTF (Organic Transformed Flier) program instead. So her dragon, F-2/Norma, refuses to leave it’s plane form to please its partner. Eventually Elle comes around and loosens up. She’s fine.

Mayumi Hitomi: A matronly shaped pilot. She’s soft-hearted and soft spoken. Flies a large, goofy looking dragon named Futomomo. She’s fine.

Lilico Kinutsugai: Winner of the Canvas’s ‘Wait, I want more’  award, Lilico is a shut-in with a wry sense of humor and love of manga. Her dragon is the samurai-looking Akemi. Lilico is also apparently asexual, something I wish they’d given space to explore a little more.

She could’ve been my favorite pilot,[2] but the show didn’t commit enough.

So the pilots are placed through a couple adventures to become friends as the creepy Iboshi (some vaguely defined government guy) watches and plots.

Iboshi is the closest thing the series has to a villain, despite it being more of a Man vs. Nature affair. He possesses a callous disregard for the people of the D-Pi program, focused on the looming Ritual the D-Pi are needed for.

This cold-naturedness made me dislike him, but also allows the series to run relationship drama in a really interesting direction.

Because, guess what? If the D-Pi fall in love, the dragons will instinctively reject them. And they need the D-Pi to keep the Dragons healthy, and also escort a giant dragon to ensure it doesn’t destroy Japan in its wake! Oh dear. This frames the ‘will-they, won’t-they’ of Hisone and Haruto of the maintenance team into an major conflict with dramatic consequences and justifies a dumb ‘misunderstanding’ plot with one of the other D-Pi.

This shows builds a very grounded, mature, and compelling view on romance, and I am super game for it. And super down to sing its praises.

I’ve found that the sweet spot for making me care about a romance plot isn’t tsundere antics, or fear, or dumb misunderstandings, because there’s nothing I crave in my media more than emotional honesty.

No, the slow burn I crave is sheer ignorance. It takes several episodes for Hisone to understand she may have feelings for Haruto beyond friendship, then more for her to actually accept and admit her feelings to herself, then the fantasy takes over to prevent a tedious ‘Oh, will you two just talk’ subplot, because Hisone can no longer do her job lest she get digested by her dragon! So the conflict of “How does Hisone deal with her feelings” becomes augmented to “How does Hisone do her freaking job now!?”

The answer, seemingly, is just have a level head on the topic: Mayumi Hitomi also has plenty of ship teases with another character, but never is at risk of being eaten. It doesn’t get examined, because Hitomi’s ability to just kind of… casually acknowledge it and not let the Doki-Dokis mess up her stride doesn’t draw attention.

And because Hitomi’s resolution to the conflict eventually comes down to “I don’t want to abandon anyone ever” means her love for Haruto[4] is just added to the pile of things Hitomi is just anxiously passionate about, in equal measures to her love of flying Masoton, and that seems to work out.

Which, I guess means the secret to flying the dragon’s isn’t a creepy expectation of a pure heart, Iboshi, but emotional maturity.

Which brings us to the jerky, playboy wannabe breaking Elle’s heart. Like a monster.

Take note, writers: this is the first time ‘I broke your heart to protect/save you!’ has ever been successfully executed without one or both parties catching a case of the stupids! Watch this and learn!

So, early in the series, we meet Yutaka Zaito, a wannabe womanizer who has no success, but maintains his illusion of charisma nevertheless. Then he meets Elle, whose serious attitude and cold shoulder grabs his attention, and he suddenly abandons his swarm and tries to, gently, ingratiate himself to Elle, who gradually warms up to him.

It’s nice.

But then the whole ‘Dragon digests those with unsteady hearts’ plot point happens, and Elle is in a position where she can’t even fly her dragon, sending her ambitions even further away. And she hasn’t realized it’s Zaito causing her heart flutters.

But Zaito, upon learning the situation, does understand. And knows that it’s either him or Elle’s career.

So, he turns up the creep, approaches Elle, and proposes a friends-with-benefits arrangement, claiming not to want a serious relationship, and subtly mocks Elle’s dragon rejection. This breaks Elle’s heart, of course, but resolves the matter. She can fly Norma again, and Zaito is left to bite his tongue and let his crush pursue her best life.

The sequence is well executed. It’s a misunderstanding perpetuated intentionally, knowingly, and selflessly by one party, and exists for reasons beyond ‘Neh, let’s have some dumb romance drama now’. Zaito knows what he’s giving up, but still breaks Elle’s heart because she legitimately needs him to so she can pursue her dreams. There’s no other timely way.

On the other end, the show introduces Natsume,[5] a childhood friend of Haruto, who comes in to be Hisone’s rival!

Except Hisone is too oblivious and all-loving to care, and Haruto is straight disinterested in Natsume. And Natsume is a shallow Tsundere and lacks any appealing characterization. They could’ve given her role to Nao, who desperately needs something to do in the later half of the series, or, better yet, just have Haruto be the human sacrifice.

“But you need a girl for the sacrificial beauty role!”

Okay.

Make Haruto a girl.

“Are you proposing the show suddenly swerve into Yuri?”

I mean, Yogurt lady’s backstory is literally a Tragic WWII-era Yuri love story.[6]

Sada Hinomoto shows up selling yogurt and being charming and mysterious so you know there’s something deeper going on.

Turns out, she’s the last D-Pi from the last time they did the ritual, so she actually has proper experience to teach the new kids, and, oh yeah, she hates Iboshi, resents the entire procedure, and carries a lot of trauma from when her friend Yae was chosen to be the human sacrifice last time, and though the show doesn’t spell it out, the intimate blocking and their schemes to flee to Paris paints a super clear picture about what that relationship was about and, gosh dangit, is she one cool grandma.

All she wants to to get back to the giant dragon to find closure with what happened to Yae and force an alternate solution.

Fortunately, Hisone is just the sort of loveable goofball to find an alternate to the Giant Dragon’s bedtime snack!

So there’s another reason why Hisone’s love interest should’ve been a girl.[8]

Now, practically this could’ve been accomplished a couple of ways: gender flip Haruto, cut Haruto and use Nao, pr combine characters. Point is, no matter how you do it, this hypothetical female love interest is now the human sacrifice for Mitatsu-sama.

With this change, there is a new parallel drawn between Hisone and Hinomoto,[9] further underlines Hisone’s tendency toward heartfelt dedication to unconventional methods, and Hisone’s desire for saving the sacrifice changes from an impersonal “Human sacrifices are wrong”[10] to “Human sacrifices are wrong, and also screw you I love that girl!”

And if that girl had Tsundere tendencies (like Nao or Natsume), that’d make the pairing even cuter.

Also, points for the entire D-Pi team unambiguously disbelieving Hisone’s ambiguous fate at the end. It’s fun to see such trope-awareness.[11]

In conclusion: Dragon Pilot is super adorable and sincere, the premise is quintessential anime, and it’s just fun. Sure, most of the characters deserve more depth and exploration, but that’s always my complaint and it’s only a 12-episode series. Plus, it very good at portraying mature characters without stooping into immature means.

And it’s really cementing my love of BONES as a studio.[12] I need to put more effort into seeking out their work.

So go watch it.

Thanks for reading my review! These do tend towards inconsistent release, but they’re fun to do. Consider checking out my other reviews, essays, and the rarer original work. I’m also nearing the end of my Muffin Comics experiment, so catch those while you can! If you really like what I’m outputting, I’ve got a Patreon, set on a monthly schedule so you know what you’re committing to.[13]

Next time: a Netflix Original of a magical tone! (And hopefully more Digimon)

Kataal kataal

[1] At least, that’s the hope. Gets dashed once the other D-Pi arrive on base and Kaizaki slips out of the spotlight. [2] The title goes to Hisone herself.[3] [3] Anyone else have troubles saying the main character/romantic lead are their favorite? Like it’s too easy an answer or something? Because I do. [4] All these H names are raising the hackles of my Mug Rule… [5] Presumably so they can localize Harvest Moon games. [6] Which means we were this close to a Yuri anime not about assaulting high schoolers and creepy family dynamics,[7] but one about Dragons pretending to be a spitfire and historical context and and light-hearted comedy and I honestly would trade this show for that and I love Hisone & Maston! [7] Citrus did not sit well with Canvas. [8] Canvas’s full tilt idea, by the way, is to combine Haruto, Nao, and Natsume. Condense characters and keep them all relevant longer. [9] Way too many H names. [10] Not that Hisone being a goofy all-loving hero isn’t super endearing. [11] Though it’d be nice to know what Hisone and Masoton were doing. Had Hisone ejected out of the dragon at any point during the… months(?) long time jump? [12] Wolf’s Rain notwithstanding. [13] Not going to lie, nothing deflects me from lending support quicker than a ‘Per Update’ schedule.

[hoyoungy]

Tied | Seungcheol (2/2)

genre: angst, fluff | best friend!seungcheol x fem!reader summary: after a falling out due to the kiss, you and seungcheol don’t meet again until two years later. with you trying to date again, you were set up with his co-worker joshua, all thanks to seungcheol’s girlfriend. so what happens when you two go on a double date? word count: 6573 a/n: oh my god christ almighty i finished it good night except it’s 2pm... warnings include mentions of alcohol and cheating

part 1

The first week after you kissed Seungcheol, you avoided him at all cost. You might have texted him here and there, mostly about how your day was or to send each other weird memes you found, but other than that, you never met up with him in person. You were so ashamed about the kiss that you couldn’t face him just yet. To be honest, Seungcheol already saw that coming, so he reluctantly understood your uneasiness, and you knew he did, too, but there was something deep inside of you that hoped he would push that uneasiness and fight for your friendship.

The following weeks became a little easier. You gradually lengthened the texting conversations and even called him on the phone here and there. It felt like you were slowly, but finally getting your best friend back, bit by bit. Although talking to him was getting easier, seeing him in person was still something you couldn’t bring yourself to do. You had to lie about studying for midterms for about three weeks until you saw him face to face again.

So when you saw him for the first time in one month, you felt your heart beat out of your chest.

It was in the middle of a crosswalk at a busy intersection when it happened - quite cliche, if you said so yourself. There was a median that divided the opposite sides of the road and that’s where Seungcheol stopped you with his soulful and pleading eyes.

“It’s been a while, huh?” he teased. “You know, it’s really quiet at the apartment when you’re not nagging in my ear every other day.”

You knew Seungcheol was trying to pretend that he believed your lie about being so busy because of studying. You knew he was trying to pretend that the kiss never happened by trying to act like everything was normal. And you knew he was doing all of that because he knew that you couldn’t. He carried twice the burden because the second you saw him with his bright, toothy smile, you knew that things would never be the same between the two of you ever again.

At least not to you.

“Yeah, midterms are kicking my ass,” you laughed nervously, heart still beating uncharacteristically. You needed to get out of here, fast. “I have to go to the library now. But I’ll see you later?”

“Oh… Ok…”

As you began to walk past him, he grabs your hand and forced you to turn around.

“U-Uh, yeah?” you stuttered.

“Can we catch up after your exams? Dinner next week maybe?” he asked, although it sounded like you didn’t have a choice to decline.

“I don’t know, I have a lot of projects coming up and -”

“Please…?” He begged you with sincere sadness in his big, round eyes. They were always so full of emotion and today they longed for your company again. “I kind of miss you.”

And you missed him dearly, too.

“Ok,” you nodded. “I’ll text you.”

“No, call me.”

“If you insist,” you said, the smile he loved so much finally growing on your lips.

So you called him. And called, and called, and called, but he never answered. You know what he did instead? He texted you - the very thing he told you not to do. He texted you each time he rejected your call, saying to call back later or that he’d reschedule the dinner, but he never did. The first time he texted, you thought it was just bad timing, but the sixth time you figured he just wanted nothing to do with you.

You decided to stop trying. You knew that everything changed the second you stepped out of his car, but you couldn’t help but feel hopeful anyways, right? It was so naive of you... Idiotic, even. Seungcheol made you believe that your friendship wouldn’t change because of one fucking kiss, but of course it would! What friendship wouldn’t!?

Which was why you haven’t seen him for two years.

Two whole years have passed since you’ve not only not seen, but talked to your once-best friend. Two years spent trying to erase the last four years of your life down the drain by deleting all of your saved pictures and throwing away all of your treasured memories together. It took you so long to get over the thought that you were the one who ruined everything, but once you realized that this whole mess was a two-way street, you allowed yourself to forget those dark thoughts once and for all. Two years of heartache, confusion, and growth have made you into the woman you are today. In that seemingly-long time frame, you graduated with your bachelor’s, found your first big girl job that paid well, and you even adopted your first puppy!

And you know what? You were completely fine. You were fucking fantastic without him! Who needs a shitty best friend that ditches you after one accidental drunk kiss, anyways!? Not you, that’s for sure!

But you had to admit, those were the two loneliest years of your entire life.

Today was a warm, sunny afternoon when you were having one of your daily existential crisis thoughts and of course, today just had to be about Seungcheol. Now that your friendship with him was over, did this mean that you would actually truly be lonely forever? You’ve tried going on dates, tried the Tinder thing, and even just one night stands to let your sexual frustration out, but we all know that those things never last! What about that pact you made with him about getting married!? Oh, God, you really were going to be single for the rest of your life -

“_____?” A familiar voice called.

“Huh?”

You probably looked crazy wandering the streets with the dumbest look on your face while your head was in the clouds. When you came to your senses upon hearing your name, you saw your favorite couple standing right in front of you, hand-in-hand, looking like they were straight out of a young-adult coming-of-age drama.

You wanted to throw up.

“It is you! Wow, I thought I was just seeing things, but hah, I was right, Seungie! It’s been so long, _____ ~” Yunah cooed as she came up to hug you tightly.

You weren’t sure how to respond only because she was the second-to-last person on this planet you wanted to be hugging right now, so you ended up patting her back awkwardly, completely ignoring the equally-awkward man in front of you. He hadn’t moved from his spot since he laid eyes on you, still shocked to see you just aimlessly wandering the streets after two years. You tried to avoid looking at his forsaken expression by staring at the clouds.

After an uncomfortably long time of hugging in the middle of town, Yunah released you from her death grip and jumps back to her boyfriend’s side, kicking him forward.

“Hey,” was how Seungcheol breathlessly greeted you for the first time after two years. His face was pale as he looked at you, like he saw a ghost.

Not exactly an appropriate reaction, but did you expect any more?

“Hi.”

“I can’t believe it’s been that long since we’ve seen you.”

“Yeah, life’s crazy like that,” you said, trying to tone down your sarcasm, though you couldn’t help that it naturally slipped out when you looked at him. The longer you stood in front of him, you hated yourself more as every second that passed by. It became worse when Yunah wrapped her arms around his waist affectionately. The cringey scene in front of you helped you realize the twisting in your gut was your cue to leave. “Well, I gotta go -”

“Leaving so soon already?” Yunah pouted. “Don’t you have time to catch up with us?”

“Uh, no... Adulting is hard! Gotta get that paycheck, right? I’ll catch up with you guys later,” you lied.

“Wait, before you go! Are you seeing anyone right now?” Seungcheol nearly choked on his water when she asked you that, and you probably would have, too. The both of you looked at her with wide eyes, scared about where she was going with this. After all this time apart, you and Seungcheol still shared the same expressions.

“U-Uh, no…” you stated hesitantly. “Why…?”

“Seungie, wasn’t Joshua looking to date again? Wouldn’t it be cute if we set them up together!?”

“What!?” he exclaimed. “I-I mean, well, I don’t think -”

“So Seungie’s good friend at his job got out of a relationship a couple of months ago and he was devastated, it was so heartbreaking! But we saw him not too long ago and he mentioned that he might want to start dating again, and honestly, I think you two would be perfect! Don’t you think so?”

“Yunah, _____ just said she’s busy lately with her job. Maybe she doesn’t have time to date right now -”

“I’d love to meet him,” you interrupted. The couple turned their heads towards you surprised. Were you really ready to date? Your damaged heart said no. But there was no way in hell you were going to let Seungcheol dictate your dating life, let alone anything that involved you at all!

“Really!?” they asked you simultaneously.

“Why not? He sounds like a great guy. Besides, I’ve been looking to start dating. It’s been a lonely couple of years, after all,” you spat, causing Seungcheol to look away.

“That’s great! Wow, what perfect timing! How about we have a double date this weekend?” Yunah squealed.

“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I’ll let him know tonight! Isn’t this exciting, Seungie!?”

“Yeah… Exciting…” he frowned.

“I can’t wait for you to meet him, _____. You’ll love him, I promise! We’ll get out of your hair for now ~ See you this weekend?”

“R-Right. This weekend, for dinner, yes.”

“Great!” Yunah hugged you one more time before dragging Seungcheol into some direction. He found it hard to look at you as he left with his girlfriend, not even entertaining you with a mere glance as he followed closely behind her.

You couldn’t wait to go on a date out of spite.

Oh, my God, you were going on a date out of spite.

Really, you were twenty-five years old now, five years away from your ideal age of marriage, and you were going on a date out of spite! With a man who could potentially be the one, you might add! You know, this was all Seungcheol’s fault. If he had just cleared the air and answered one of your fucking phone calls two years ago, maybe you wouldn’t be in this sad, pathetic mess of a date!

And you had to eat Yunah’s cooking while you were at it!? She was a terrible cook!

What did you agree to…?

As you stood outside of Seungcheol’s apartment, too afraid to knock, you thought that maybe you should just bail. This didn’t seem right at all - or fair, for that matter, especially to his coworker! But that would mean Seungcheol won, or something like that, and you were definitely not about to let that happen, so you begrudgingly knocked on his door.

“Just in time!” Yunah chimed when she opened the door for you, dressed a bit too excessively for such an inclusive date. Did she live here now that she was blessed with the duty of opening Seungcheol’s door? “Come in, Joshua’s already here.”

“Thanks.”

When you walked in, you saw your date talking to Seungcheol, and when he turned to smile at you, you thought your heart stopped beating. This man was probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life! He was tall, incredibly handsome, and his smile was so kind, something you haven’t seen since Seungcheol left you. You really didn’t want to give Yunah any credit, but you had to admit, you were not disappointed.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

“Hi,” he greeted you, extending his hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Wow, you’re… a lot prettier than I imagined.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” you teased.

“Definitely. I’m usually too chicken to go on blind dates, but Yunah insisted. Needless to say, I’m glad I didn’t chicken out.”

“Me, too,” you smiled.

The four of you enjoyed a lovely candlelight dinner at Seungcheol’s new kitchen table, or at least you thought it was new. The feeling of it was different than you remembered. Yunah probably bought it for him, or something. A full three course meal was set in front of you all with a nice bottle of wine to match the meal. Yunah hastily grabbed Joshua so he could sit next to her, forcing you and Seungcheol to sit together. This made things incredibly awkward on your ends and you were afraid your nervousness would show before the appetizers started.

Was it too early to open the bottle of wine?

“This table’s, um, new…?” you questioned to heighten the awkwardness because that’s exactly what you needed right now.

“Actually, I got it a couple of months ago! Although, it has been a while since you’ve been here, hasn’t it?” Yunah said.

“Do you live here now?”

“No, but I’m slowly making my way in ~! I have a bunch of overnight stuff here already.”

“How do you three know each other exactly?” Joshua asked. You weren’t prepared for this question at least until the main course.

“Either of you want to explain?” Yunah urged. What was she, your mom now?

When you glanced at Seungcheol in hopes for him to answer, you weren’t surprised he did the same to you. You really wanted him to answer, that way you could get a sense of clarity of how he felt about you even just a little bit, but the truth might be too much for you to handle.

“We knew each other from college,” you answered quickly. “That’s all.”

“‘That’s all’? Ouch,” Seungcheol chuckled bitterly, causing you to roll your eyes. “We were really good friends -”

“Who haven’t seen each other in two years. But hey, what a way to catch up, right!?”

“Even finishing each other’s sentences? You two must be really close to be on the same wavelength like that,” Joshua mused.

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” you fake-grinned. “Where’s the wine opener?”

“I like the way you think,” Joshua teased.

“I thought you don’t drink?” Seungcheol asked.

“I don’t, but a glass or two once in a while doesn’t hurt.”

“Found it!” you cheered from the kitchen. Your skills in bottle-opening were scarily impressive. You rose your not-so-empty glass to Joshua only after you sat down. “Cheers to new beginnings?”

“To new beginnings,” Joshua cheered. “To new, exciting beginnings, with my pretty date.”

“Joshua, are you flirting with me ~?”

“Just a little.”

“See! I knew they would get along!” Yunah squealed.

“Yeah… good job,” Seungcheol muttered.

“No way, you were a church boy!?” you teased during dessert.

The rest of the night was mostly you and Joshua getting to know each other more and you and Seungcheol trying to avoid every question that involved the two of you. Joshua was a bit invasive about it at first, but you settled the questions once and for all when you lied and said you two were long time friends who just fell apart over the years.

But was it really the friendship that fell apart? Or was it just you? The one left in the dust.

“Yup. I was in the choir and everything ~” he giggled with you. Seemed like Joshua was quite the lightweight.

“Wow, so you must sing well, huh? Will you sing to me sometime?”

“I would love to. Maybe on our second date?” he asked hopefully. “With just the two of us?”

Wow, that was quick. You weren’t expecting to be asked out until after the golden three-day rule. But hey, this was a lot better - at least this way you know he’s just as interested in you than you are of him.

“Yeah, that’d be great!” You could feel Seungcheol’s shoulders tense up next to you.

“Really? Great!”

“Ok, it’s getting late,” he said, hearing enough of you and Joshua flirting for three hours. “I think it’s time to wrap things up.”

“Aw, we were just getting started,” Joshua whined. “Actually, do you mind if I crash here tonight? I don’t think I can drive,” he said, stumbling out of his chair.

“Oh, let’s get you to the couch,” you offered, wrapping your arms around his slim body. Even with your hands outside of his shirt, you could feel the toned outlines of his body. Yunah really picked a good one for you.

“What about you?” Seungcheol asked, acting like he cared. “Do you want to stay the night, too?”

“No.”

“Are you sure, it’s really no problem -”

“I’m sure. I have a few things to take care of,” you lied.

“Oh, ok…”

“I’ll prepare the couch for Joshua. Can you take _____ down?” Yunah asked.

“I still remember how to get to the lobby -”

“Nonsense, it’ll give you two some time to catch up!” She said as she tossed a comforter on top of a very sleepy Joshua.

You didn’t agree nor decline the offer because you were just too tired to do so. There was no use arguing with Yunah anyways, as she always gets her way regardless. You said your goodbye to the most fulfilling date you’ve had in a long time. Walking over to his lying form, you gently tucked the loose strands of hair on his face to reveal more of his sweet, smiling face. He turned to face you more and his smile only got bigger. He was so cute as a smiley drunk.

“Aren’t you cute?” you teased.

“Not as cute as you. I’m sorry I sort of ruined it at the end - my tolerance isn’t as high as yours.”

“If you ruined it, I wouldn’t have agreed to a second date, would I?”

“I suppose you wouldn’t have.”

“I had a wonderful time tonight. I’m glad I agreed to this blind date.”

“Me, too.”

You left a gentle kiss on his forehead and slipped your phone number into one of his trouser pockets as your last goodbye for the night. “Here’s my number. Call me, ok? Good night, Joshua.”

“I will. Good night, _____.”

You gave a quick hug to Yunah as a farewell and a thank you for setting you up before you headed out the door, barely giving Seungcheol any time to follow closely behind you. The walk to the elevator was a silent one, and the wait was torturous as he stood closely beside you. You weren’t sure why, but you felt the hallway walls enclose around you at an increasing rate the longer you two waited for the elevator and it made you sweat. Was it getting hot in here?

Of course, Seungcheol had to live on the seventeenth floor of the highrise, which doesn’t sound as high up as you’d think, but it was still higher up than the single-digit apartment floors, which meant more time spent together. The two of you stood on opposite sides of the elevator, avoiding each other’s eye contact, waiting for the other person to say something. But there was no way you were going to cave in first.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked you with urgency, though he already moved forward with the subject before you could decline. “Were you just faking it the whole night?”

“Faking what?”

“You know, actually being interested in Joshua? Because if you were, you’d be a pretty shitty person.”

“Ok, first of all, you are the last person who should be calling out how shitty of a person I am,” Seungcheol looked down shamefully at your retort. “And second, why would I be faking it?”

“I don’t know, to get my attention?”

“As usual, the world has to revolve around Choi Seungcheol!” you scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant. Besides, he’s not even your type.”

“What would you know about my type? In fact, please enlighten me on what my type is!”

“I know because you’re a very picky person. That much about you hasn’t changed.”

“And how do you know that? Two years is a long time for me to grow up and change my preferences.”

“Fine, so say you weren’t faking it and are actually interested in Joshua. Are you seriously going to go out on a second date with him because you want to?”

“Why does it matter, Seungcheol!?”

“Because…! He’s a good person. He doesn’t deserve to be taken out on a date out of spite.”

“Unbelievable,” you scoffed again. “You care more about your coworker than you do about your friends.”

“_____-”

“No, don’t talk to me -!”

You were interrupted when the elevator stopped suddenly on the sixth floor, causing the both of you to fall. After a couple of seconds of recollecting yourselves, you both realized that the elevator wasn’t going to move anytime soon.

You were stuck in an elevator with Seungcheol for God knows how long.

“Are you kidding me!?” you cursed before pressing the emergency call button. “Hello!?”

“Hello, what is your emergency?” the receiver asked.

“The elevator’s stuck!”

“Ok, hold still. We’ll be with you in just a moment.”

“‘Hold still’, well where the fuck are we supposed to go!?” you muttered bitterly after they hung up. You were so fired up from your argument that you failed to notice Seungcheol’s little smirk he used to get every time you were angry and swore at someone.

After thirty minutes of waiting in silence and counting all of the stars in the sky, they told you it would take a couple of hours until you were free. It was already one in the morning.

“Hey, _____ and I got stuck in the elevator, so don’t wait up for me. Yeah, we’re ok. I’ll call if anything happens. Ok, I love you, too,” Seungcheol told Yunah over the phone. You gagged at the last sentence to mask the feeling of your heart caving in.

“Great,” you sighed in defeat. “Oh, my God, I bet my puppy pooped everywhere…!”

“A puppy? You have a puppy now?”

“What do you mean ‘now’, I’ve had a puppy for over a year - wait, nevermind,” you paused, realizing that of course he couldn’t have known about your puppy.

“Do you have any pictures?”

“... Yeah…” You really didn’t want to show your baby off to someone who cared more about his coworkers than you, but she was just too cute! You were like a proud mom. So you scooted yourself closer to Seungcheol and swiped through the hundreds of pictures you had of her.

“She’s so cute,” he said, grinning at each picture. You tried to focus on the pictures rather than how handsome his face had gotten, but your eyes liked to betray you and wandered frequently.

“You take her to that park we always used to go to?” he asked, pointing to a particular picture.

“Yeah, she likes to pee by the big fountain.”

“The one with the benches where we would sit and people-watch?”

“For like, three hours at a time with $20 worth of street food? The very same.”

“I haven’t been to that fountain in so long…”

“If I don’t walk her by there everyday, she throws a hissy fit.”

It was ironic that sentences like these really put into perspective where you both were at with your lives and with each other. Seungcheol hadn’t been to the fountain since the last time you were with him and you pass by it everyday. It was like how he so easily moved on without you, experiencing new and exciting things with different people, while you were left to live through the past with nearly no one beside you.

All because of one kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” Seungcheol admitted after half an hour of silence.

When you turned to look at him, he had the soft and tired smile on his face he always had when he was feeling nostalgic. You weren’t sure if what he said was genuine or if he said it for the sake of your emotional stability, but either way, you didn’t want to hear it.

Your heart couldn’t take it.

“You don’t have to lie,” you said, turning away.

“_____…”

“Things are different now, Seungcheol. You can’t just say things like that like it’s going to fix everything.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t! You used to always do this, you know!?” you cried out. “Before all of this, whenever I was mad at you, you’d always say some sweet bullshit that would make me forget why I was mad at you in the first place, and I won’t let you do it this time.”

“I’m not trying to! It’s just… It’s been two years since I’ve seen you, and I’ve missed you.”

“It didn’t seem like it when I saw you for the first time a couple of days ago.”

“I was just very shocked.”

“Even so, you shouldn’t be missing me in the first place.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not how it works with best friends! You should be missing me when I go on vacation for a couple of weeks, or when you see something that reminded you of me, or even as simple as when you’re feeling lonely because you haven’t seen me in a couple of days, not for two fucking years, Seungcheol! You can’t say that you miss me when you’re the one who cut me off! That’s just not fair!”

He watched you with kind and apologetic eyes as you ranted on about how unfair he was. It was very late and he knew you were very tired by the way you talked. You always sounded so whiny and your eyes would tear up when it was this late. He knew he was wrong - when he pushed you away, when he said said he missed you, and even all the way back to when he kissed you - he was in the wrong no matter what angle you both looked at it, but that didn’t make him miss you any less with each passing day.

“I called you so many times because you were the one who told me to call, but you never answered. Why couldn’t you just call me back?” you finally asked.

It was another long moment of silence before he collected all of his thoughts and explained to you. “When I saw you for the first time after a month in the middle of the street, all I wanted to do was run up to you, wrap my arms around your waist, and twirl you in the air as I hugged you. And then I’d gently put you back on the ground and I’d kiss you again. I didn’t think about the cars around us, or the people around us, or even Yunah. I fell for you, _____...”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You what...?”

“If I’m being honest, I’m surprised that I held myself back the way that I did. After I asked you to catch up over dinner, I realized that I wasn’t being fair - to you, myself, and especially to Yunah. How could I be having these feelings about you, my best friend, when I have Yunah?”

“Seungcheol, it was just one kiss -”

“No, it wasn’t, and you know it!” he told you sternly. At this point, you felt the tears fall, but you figured they did a while ago. Seungcheol’s face was just as stern as his voice, letting you know that his words weren’t just sugar-coated. “The look on your face when I saw you in the street… You were thinking the same thing I was. You know it wasn’t just a kiss, and I know that you know.” Then he chuckled softly. “I know everything about you.”

“How long have you had those feelings?”

“I think I always have. All four years,” he admitted. “What about you?”

“Hello? Are you two still ok?” the intercom interrupted.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol answered, not taking his eyes off of you.

“Maintenance came early. We’re taking you to the first floor.”

“Thank you.”

Seungcheol was the first to rise to his feet, leaving you shocked and frozen to stone on the floor. You didn’t hesitate to take his hand when he offered it to help you up. His hand was warm and soft with a touch that sent shivers down your spine.

And then it was all over. All the bickering, the nostalgia, the warmth of your heart - like all good things, it came to an end. You arrived at the lobby and Seungcheol led you to the door, still holding your hand.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” he whispered.

Yes. “No, I’ll be ok.”

“You sure?”

No. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks for tonight. Take care of Joshua for me, ok?”

“_____ -”

“I’ll see you soon.”

And so you left, with Seungcheol staring at you until you disappeared, leaving him feeling guilty and with words left unsaid. You spent the entire walk home crying with a smile on your face.

You spent the entire week with your head in the clouds daydreaming about Seungcheol. It was so bad that it was interfering with your work! You daydreamed about the way his hand felt wrapped around yours, about the way he bit his lip every time he smiled, and about his confession to you in the elevator.

The word ‘confession’ just sounded so wrong… but what would you even call that moment that night!? And what would you call whatever this feeling was!? Sure, you’ve been talking to Joshua the whole week, but he didn’t spark your heart the way your once best friend did.

You haven’t talked to him at all since that night. You tried texting him, but the words you wrote couldn’t convey your feelings properly. Instead, you needed to see him.

So that’s how you ended up standing outside his door at nine in the morning on a Saturday.

You haven’t slept since last night and maybe you were just being a bit hysterical or maybe it was the sleep deprivation that guided you here, but there was no turning back now. You needed to tell Seungcheol how you felt.

You loved him. You always had - as a friend, as a best friend, and something more, and you needed to let him know.

You knocked on his door at the same pace as your heart and a shirtless Seungcheol opened the door. Damn, he looked good...

“_____?”

“Hey,” you finally breathed out. “Is this a bad time…?”

“Uh… No, it’s fine, I can talk for a couple of minutes.”

“That’s the thing, I think it’s going to take a lot more than couple of minutes -”

“Seungie? Who’s at the door?”

Yunah came out of Seungcheol’s room wearing the t-shirt he clearly wasn’t wearing and nothing else but her panties. You peaked inside of his apartment to see her clothes, shoes, and bra spread out across the living room and made a trail to his bedroom, indicating a wild night for the both of them.

Your heart dropped, your face dropped, you might as well have fell through all seventeen floors. You felt so fucking stupid. Here you were in front of his apartment ready to spill your heart out, completely forgetting that his was already taken.

“Is that you, _____? Whoops, let me put some clothes on -”

“No need, I’ll just leave.”

“Didn’t you need to tell me something?” Seungcheol asked.

“I forgot... I’ll call you when I remember,” you muttered. “Sorry I interrupted your fun.”

“_____, wait -”

“I’ll see you later.”

“_____!”

You sprinted to the elevator and didn’t look back. This was what you deserved for falling in love with your best friend. Your emotions were all mixed in the pit of your stomach. You felt angry that you believed his confession, foolish for thinking that he still felt that way after two years, and hurt that you were yet again left behind in the dust.

But there were no tears this time. You were all cried out.

An entire week was spent trying to wash away the naked images of Seungcheol and Yunah by taking one hour showers. An entire month was spent using Joshua as a distraction to cloud your thoughts. It was invigorating playing the same game he was playing. At first, you felt like a shitty person for using him like a drug to forget your past, but as you laid next to each other, naked and staring at the ceiling, he merely shrugged after you told him that you couldn’t see anything advancing emotionally between the two of you.

“Yeah, I kind of knew that already.”

“What, how?”

“The first time you call me was a month after our date? I’m not stupid,” he chuckled, nudging you playfully.

“That’s true… I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess.”

“Don’t be, I’m more than happy to oblige ~ Besides, I don’t think we would have worked out, anyways.”

“A bit quick to judge, don’t you think?”

“It was kind of easy to gauge it, actually.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“One person - Seungcheol.”

You didn’t say anything as Joshua continued to keep you company.

“You know, I knew about you before our double date.”

“That’s not weird at all,” you snorted.

“Do you know why?”

“Lots of social media stalking?”

“Seungcheol talked about you at work so often that I felt like I knew you for four years, too.”

“Why so often? We weren’t even talking when he started working with you.”

“I don’t think you understand how much he cares about you.”

No, you clearly don’t by the way he confessed to you one evening and goes back to fuck his girlfriend the next. The only thing you understood about Seungcheol was that he was like every other boy and you wanted nothing to do with him.

“What happened between the two of you, anyways?”

“We sort of kissed…”

“Yikes…”

“Like, two years ago, though!”

“But it ruined everything, huh?”

“Naturally.”

“Do you love him?”

You didn’t answer, though you didn’t need to.

“I’m going to head out for tonight. You need some sleep. Call me later?” Joshua said as he changed back into his clothes.

“You can stay over if you want.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks though. But promise me something?”

“Hm?”

“You need to tell him.”

“Joshua -”

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he winked. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, just like how you did to him the first night. “Good night, _____. Don’t forget to call me when you need me ~”

You ended up sleeping for two hours that night thinking about your favorite person in the world. No matter how you looked at the situation, whether you told Seungcheol about your feelings or not, you’d be fucked either way. But Joshua was right, as much as you hated to admit it. Once you told him, you would be set free.

Your sleep would have been longer if someone didn’t aggressively ring your doorbell at seven in the morning. This felt like deja vu, especially when you opened the door to reveal an equally-exhausted Seungcheol. His hair was messy, eye bags as purple as yours, and if he didn’t look so lonely, you’d think he just woke up from another session with Yunah.

“What were you going to tell me when you showed up at my door?” he demanded as soon as you opened the door.

“Hello to you, too,” you mumbled.

“_____, please.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I need to know.”

“Why, so you can cut me off again, but for good?” you sighed. “Seungcheol, I know you’re not stupid.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know why I showed up at your door. You know what I was going to tell you, and I didn’t need to wait to get my answer. God, you made me feel so fucking stupid, you know!”

“_____ -”

“You tell me you love me in the elevator that fateful night but then you go and sleep with your girlfriend like you don’t have a conscience! And you know what, you were right - this is not fucking fair to neither me nor Yunah! She’s an amazing girl, Cheolie, you need to be with her, cuddled up in bed, not here in front of my door making us look both pathetic.”

When you made eye contact with him after your heartfelt rant, you saw him trying to hide his grin.

“Why are you smiling!?”

“You called me Cheolie.”

“Seungcheol -”

“_____, I love you.”

You only shook your head, not wanting to believe your ears. “You can’t say that!”

“Yunah already knows.”

“She what!?” You realized that Seungcheol was still standing outside of your apartment when passers-by began to watch the two of you bicker. You pulled him in roughly and slammed the door. “Seungcheol, what did you do!?”

“We broke up.”

“Why!? More importantly, how!?”

“A couple of days after the elevator incident, I came home to her one night and she told me she loves me, and do you know what I said? I said, ‘I love you, too, _____’,” he smiled sheepishly. “And you want to know something crazier? She said she’s always known - longer than we have.”

“Oh, my God, you did not say that…” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “How can you just throw away two and a half years like that!?”

“Two and a half years doesn’t compare to the lifetime I get with you, right?” he teased, tugging your hands away from your face and wrapping them around his waist.

“Lifetime? Why a lifetime?”

“‘Cuz we’re getting married in five years, remember? How could you forget your proposal to me?”

“I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Of course I remember,” he said, squeezing you tighter. “I miss hugging you like this.”

“Me, too,” you muttered into his chest. “Where do we go from here…?”

“How about we move in together?”

“What the hell, Seungcheol, aren’t you jumping the gun a bit too fast!?”

“You asked me to marry you in college so I think I’m going a lot slower than you are.”

“You just got out of a relationship, you don’t want to take it just a bit more slowly…?” you asked, because truth be told, you thought it was just his vulnerability doing the talking.

“I love you, _____,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m afraid to be away from you any longer. Let’s just do it.”

In any other normal situation or normal relationship, you would have said no immediately. But you and Seungcheol weren’t normal, were you? Your heart beated for him so loudly that you knew he heard it, too, and that’s where the two of you stood with each other. So you nodded your head.

“Ok. I’ll move in with you.”

“I knew you would say yes ~” he chimed.

“Of course you did,” you smiled for the first time in forever. “I love you, Seungcheol.”

“I love you, too.”

[emotten]

Exclusive Sneak Peek!

I have decided to post the first chapter of my WIP (in its roughest form) because I’m dying to share this story with everyone. I am so excited to be writing it after dreaming of it for so long, and I cannot wait to see how it turns out in the end. Keep reading for The Lesser Courts, Book 1, Chapter 1... “The Faerie Ring.” And please ignore any typos and grammatical errors you might see. As I said, she is rough! Enjoy. :) 

It rained the day they buried Sadie’s mother. The sky was all black and gray, and it poured down buckets of fat, cold drops, as if walking through a cemetery with a bunch of estranged acquaintances wasn’t bad enough already. They moved like a mob of penguins, dressed all in black and shuffling through the mud toward the rectangular hole in the ground where Melissa Parker’s body would rest forever.

The funeral had felt agonizingly slow, though they hadn’t spent much time there in reality. Now, time moved in pieces, like the broken shards of a mirror shifting at the bottom of a shimmering pool. Sadie couldn’t feel her feet, and only knew they were carrying her because every time she blinked, her surroundings had changed. She felt a warm arm linked through hers and looked; of course, it was Nobu. Probably the only reason she was still on her feet at that moment.

Her best friend turned and gave her a sad smile, and a wink. The rain had flattened his dark hair against his forehead, and she could see the scar above his eyebrow, which he’d gotten falling off of the monkey bars when they were young. He’d gone up there to help Sadie down, and ended up hurting himself. Every time Sadie saw that scar, she was reminded of all the things Nobu had done for her, and how he had always been there for her when she needed someone. That very moment, for example.

As she watched her mother’s casket drift lower into the ground, Sadie tightened her grip on Nobu’s arm and glanced around at the unfamiliar faces of the few people who had come to mourn her mother.

The only face she knew was that of her mother’s older sister, Ira. Aunt Ira was a woman Sadie had rarely seen, but could never forget, with her blackened teeth and foggy left eye. Aunt Ira walked with a limp and grew long hairs out of the mole on her chin. Usually, Sadie wouldn’t judge a person by the way they looked. But not only was Aunt Ira terrible to look at, she had a heart as black as her teeth and a soul as sour as her socks. The worst part about Aunt Ira was that she had become Sadie’s legal guardian.

“Amen,” said the priest. He’d been talking, Sadie supposed, but she hadn’t heard him until now, as he addressed her. “I believe Miss Sadie Parker wanted to say a word about her mother before we conclude our ceremony this afternoon.”

Sadie blinked around at the people huddled under five or six black umbrellas, and Aunt Ira with her big black hat. Carefully, she pulled her arm away from Nobu and tiptoed through the mud to stand next to the priest. She had been told his name once or twice, but it never seemed to stick.

“Thank you,” Sadie squeaked. She cleared her throat and pulled a crumpled wad of paper from her pocket and unfolded it noisily. Rain drops smudged the handwritten blue words like watercolors. “My mom – Melissa – was really into poetry. She used to read poems to me all the time when I was little.” Sadie felt her eyes and throat burning and swallowed. “This was one of her favorites and, when she got sick, she asked me to—to read it—” Her throat was closing up. The memory of her mother washed over her like a wave of nausea. She glanced out at Nobu who looked back, his dark eyes narrowed in concern, and nodded toward her. You can do this, she thought. That’s what he’s telling me. Reminding me. I’m strong, I can read this stupid poem.

She took a deep breath, focused on a bleach stain in Aunt Ira’s jacket, and recited the poem from memory, though the damp page was clutched tightly in her hand.

“Fortunate are those, who seek the Faerie Ring; who step into the circle; who dance, and laugh, and sing.” Sadie smiled, remembering the sound of her mother’s voice when she would chant this poem as she skipped through the house on certain mornings, throwing open all the windows as she went. “The Faeries, then, will take you to a magical place, with plenty to see, and plenty to do, plenty to feel and taste. After your last breath, do not go toward the light. Instead, look down, dig underground, and speak the Faerie Rite.”

Sadie imagined her mother clawing at the muddy ground inside a deep dark tunnel, her golden hair snarled and falling over her face. She could almost hear Melissa’s voice, sobbing as she dug, chanting through her shaking breaths.

“By the wisdom of this ancient soil,” Sadie continued, her voice strong, “the powers of earth, air, fire, and oil. Water and metal and mineral ore, the power of spirit, of sand and shore. By the name of Godric, Faerie King, I command you open this Faerie Ring.”

Thunder clapped in the distance, and there were quiet gasps throughout the small crowd. Sadie frowned as the rain came down harder, heavier. She was almost finished; she continued to read.

“Allow me passage into the lands and gifts I will place into your hands.” From her pocket, Sadie pulled a long, heavy necklace. The silver chain held a large, bright green stone that seemed to shimmer in a ray of sunlight that wasn’t there. She stared down at it for a moment; a pendant she had seen every day for her entire life, which her mother had always worn, even in her bathing suit. No matter where they went, no matter what she was wearing, Melissa Parker never went anywhere without that big green rock around her neck. And Sadie would be damned if she was going to pass into the afterlife without it.

She stepped forward toward her mother’s grave, just as a bolt of lightning sliced across the sky, and she dropped the necklace to land on top of the casket with a thud. Then, she stepped back and finished the poem.

“Secret Country, now unveil, open the door to Ironvale.” As Sadie finished, the sky flashed and thunder rumbled again. It was a coincidence, of course, but she shivered at the warning bell ringing in the back of her intuitive mind. She walked over to stand next to Nobu, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“Thanks for the poem,” she said. “Mom loved that one.”

“I know,” Nobu replied.

Soon, all the other penguins had disappeared, except for Aunt Ira. She waited impatiently in the car while Sadie hugged Nobu goodbye, promising to call as soon as she got settled at Ira’s house.

As they pulled away from the dreary, rainy cemetery, Sadie gazed out the window toward the gaping wound in the earth that was her mother’s final resting place, which very closely resembled the gaping wound in Sadie’s heart. But something else caught her eye on the edge of the woods along the opposite side of the cemetery that struck her even harder; a red-haired young man perched high up in the treetops, staring right back at her. It wasn’t the staring that struck Sadie as odd or intriguing or maybe even a little terrifying, nor was it the red hair, or the fact that he was in a tree. It was the fact that she could swear she had seen him somewhere before.

         Aunt Ira’s house stood at the end of a long, twisting driveway that wove through a forest of bare trees. It was early spring and, though it would be a few weeks before things began to blossom, Sadie was pretty sure these trees hadn’t grown a single bud in ages. The house itself was tall; too tall and large for only one woman to live inside.

Ira used to have a husband, and he had a few kids from a previous marriage. But Sadie hadn’t seen her pseudo-cousins since Ira’s divorce. She was a lonely, wretched woman, and the interior of her house reflected that.

Inside, the lights were dim, the walls painted in deep, ashy, earth tones. The floors were dark, scuffed wood, and tall, dusty bookcases lined the main entrance hall, as well as the living room and the study. Sadie followed Ira upstairs, the air thick with dust and the stinging scent of moth balls, to find her new bedroom.

“Here you are,” Ira said. She pushed open a creaking door to a small room with a slanted roof and an aluminum-framed twin bed. There was one small window in the wall opposite the door, and it was a small, round window, like the type you might find in the lower parts of a ship. Sadie doubted that it opened at all as she glanced around the tiny space at the cracks in the floor, the stained wallpaper, and the thick cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling. There was no light switch, no light fixture at all, and only one socket.

“Aren’t there any other rooms?” Sadie asked. “One with a window that might open, maybe?” She looked up at her aunt with her round, teal eyes – the puppy dog expression worked on everyone – and batted her lashes.

Aunt Ira snorted. “This is the only empty room I’ve got, Princess. Dinner is at seven. I hope not to see you until then.” She turned and limped down the hallway without another word.

Sadie sighed as she entered her room, dragging her bags behind her, and shut the door. For the next few hours, she cleaned as well as she could and started to unpack, trying her best to make the room feel like home. But it was cold and dark and unfamiliar, and all of her efforts seemed completely pointless.

Later that night, at seven o’clock, Sadie found her way through the drafty, candle-lit house to the dining room, where Aunt Ira had placed a microwaved dinner and a can of Coca-Cola in front of an empty seat for her.

“Before you ask,” said Aunt Ira, sitting on the other side of the table, “this is all there is. I’ve got no fancy cakes or anything for you.” She chuckled at herself and began sawing at the slab of brown in front of her that was probably supposed to be meat.

Sadie sat without a word and decided that the corn looked like the most edible part of the dish. She began picking at it until she realized that some of the kernels were still frozen. After about fifteen minutes of pushing the “food” around her plastic plate and listening to Aunt Ira chew and swallow, chasing each bite with a swig of rum and Coke, Sadie took care of her dishes and went back up to her room.

The next morning, she woke up shivering, with the rising sun blasting right through her tiny, circular window and directly into her eyes. It was only six o’clock in the morning but going back to sleep was out of the question. So, Sadie got up, got dressed, and went downstairs to browse the books that lined Aunt Ira’s walls. They were the only part about the house that didn’t totally suck.

In the hall, Sadie found a cordless phone and called Nobu, speaking softly so as not to wake Aunt Ira while her eyes skimmed the cracking spines of the old books in the study.

“How was your first night?” Nobu asked.

Sadie shrugged, though he couldn’t see her, and said, “Not awful. But not awesome, either. You should see my room. I think it’s a actually closet.”

“At least you only have to live with her for a few months.”

“Yep,” Sadie replied. “As soon as I turn seventeen, I’m out of here. No idea where I’ll go, but I can’t stay here forever. This isn’t my home.”

“Want me to come over today?” asked Nobu.

Sadie’s big, round eyes fell on a book that seemed oddly familiar to her. She reached for it, and slid the small, green, canvas-bound tome from the shelf.

“Yeah,” she said, slowly. “I just found something you might be interested in.” She opened the book, titled How to Catch a Faerie, and ran her finger over the name scribbled in the corner of the inside cover; Melissa Parker.

 It took Nobu forty-five minutes to drive his mom’s van across town to Aunt Ira’s house, and the woman was up and making a pot of smelly tea when Sadie saw the van pulling down the long driveway.

“I’m going to hang out with a friend for a little while,” Sadie said. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Oh, yes,” Aunt Ira replied, an air of sarcasm in her voice. “Come and go as you please, Your Highness, but don’t forget; dinner is at seven, and I lock the doors at nine.”

“I remember,” said Sadie.

She slipped out the door and ran to hop into the passenger seat of the van. Nobu greeted her with a smile, and she pulled the small, green book from her pocket.

“It’s my mom’s,” she said. “We should bring it to her. To her grave, I mean.”

Nobu nodded. “Okay.”

They drove up the drive of the cemetery, just beginning to dry in the weak sun after the previous days of heavy rain. The clouds above them were breaking apart as Sadie and Nobu walked across the green grass, weaving between headstones. They looked ridiculous walking together, with Nobu towering over tiny Sadie, and yet walking somehow lighter and less clumsy than her. His black hair was straight and bodiless, while hers was long and golden brown and full of bounce. He was dark and strong and silent, like a statue made of stone, and she was delicate and soft as the petals of a tulip.

Sadie gripped the Faerie book tightly as they walked, until they reached the damp, churned soil of Melissa Parker’s recent grave. Sadie sat down in the cold grass and Nobu knelt next to her as she opened up the book and thumbed through the pages.

“Which one should I read?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she looked to her friend for any kind of support he could give.

He reached out and took the book from her. “Let me see.” And Sadie watched his eyes move quickly across the pages as he skimmed and flipped and turned and chewed his bottom lip. Then, Nobu frowned and Sadie looked down at the book in his hands. He had turned to the very back, where a poem had been handwritten in unfamiliar, gorgeous, scrawling cursive.

“How about this one?” he said, passing to book to her.

As she gazed down at the page, she could practically feel the atmosphere around her changing, becoming heavier and somehow lighter all at once. She took a deep breath and began to read the handwritten poem aloud.

“A maiden, there, came dancing, into the Faerie ring. Her eyes squeezed tight against the light, she had not seen the thing.” Sadie thought of all the stories her mother had once told her, of Faerie Rings and Magick and a world beneath Earth’s surface where it all exists. They were just stories, Sadie had always thought, but her mother was so passionate about them, that they had begun to feel real over the years.

“The maiden, there, went prancing, around the Faerie Ring. Her hair blew round and came unbound and she began to sing.” Sadie couldn’t help but picture her mother, with her golden waves flowing around her like oil floating through water, singing, as always. “The maiden began chanting, across the Faerie Ring. The song was old, a tale it told, about the death of Spring.”

Sadie stopped. The air around her had gone impossibly still and silent, not even a bird was chirping anymore. She knew that song, The Death of Spring. She had heard her mother singing it at least a thousand times. It was a real song. She swallowed and read the final verse of the poem.

“The maiden could do nothing, within the Faerie Ring. An icy breeze, and the maiden was seized, by the savage Faerie King.”

Sadie blinked. She and Nobu sat quietly, staring down at the words written on the worn paper before them, the silence around them deafening.

“Well,” Nobu said, finally. “I’ve never heard that one before. Just goes to show, you can study something for years and years, and still find something new here and there.”

Sadie couldn’t shake the strange feeling that had fallen over her as she’d read the poem. She had read tons of Faerie poems in her life; her mother was a believer and her best friend was an Occultist who studied Faeries. But nothing she had ever found or seen or read or learned had ever caused her to feel the way she did now.

“Looks like it’s going to rain again,” Nobu said.

Sadie glanced up at the sky, gray clouds rolling quickly across the sheet of blue overhead. “Huh? It’s supposed to be clear skies all day.”

“Surprise,” Nobu replied, hopping to his feet. “The weatherman is not always right, Parker.” He extended his hand and helped Sadie to her feet. “You gonna leave that book here for her?”

Sadie stood and glanced between the book in her hand and the grave at her feet. She shook her head. “No. Not if it’s going to rain. I don’t want it to get ruined.”

They walked away arm in arm as the sky darkened above them and a chill breeze rolled through, as if it were following them out of the cemetery. When they reached the van, Nobu got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Sadie opened the passenger side door and dropped the book in, but before she could climb into the van, she felt a strange compulsion to look behind her. She could feel, like a stab of heat, a pair of eyes on her from somewhere in the distance.

Sadie glanced over her shoulder, saw a streak of orange in her peripheral vision, and spun around. Her eyes narrowed as they skimmed the cemetery, left and right, and all the way back toward the woods on the other side. Her heart stopped cold for a solid second when she saw him; the boy with the red hair, perched in the tree. And without a second thought, she darted across the cemetery toward him.

“Sadie!”

She could hear Nobu’s voice calling to her, but she kept on running. He would chase her, she knew, and he would probably catch up. But she couldn’t stop now. She had her eyes locked on the redhead in the tree and she wasn’t stopping until she reached him. Then, should would ask him who he was and why he was following her and why the hell he looked so familiar, even though she couldn’t see his face.

Sadie and Nobu were both stars on their high school track team, but Nobu was much faster. His long legs could carry him the length of Sadie’s entire body in one stride. He caught up quick and stopped her when she was just a few yards from the edge of the woods. She turned to him, trying to catch her breath.

“I have to know who he is,” she said between gasps of air. “I’ve seen him here twice now, and I want to know who he is.”

“What are you talking about?” Nobu asked.

“Him!” Sadie pointed toward the trees, and they both looked. But he was gone.

 That night, Sadie could not sleep. Nobu didn’t seem to have the same problem, snoring softly on her bedroom floor. He’d parked his van down the street and snuck in while Aunt Ira was in the shower, after Sadie had told him she didn’t want to be alone.

She couldn’t get the image of the familiar red-haired figure in the tree out of her mind, and something in her heart was telling her that there was more to it; more to him; more to the odd connection she felt to him.

“Nobu?” she whispered.

He didn’t budge.

Sadie slipped out from under her covers and tiptoed past her sleeping friend. She was small and slight and made no noise, even on the old, swollen floorboards. She grabbed her robe off of the door and slipped it on over her silk sleep shorts and camisole. Her bare, bony feet carried her silently downstairs and into the study, where she lit a candle and skimmed the rows of books, searching for something useful. Her skin tingled; she could feel that she was onto something, she just wasn’t sure what.

A book caught her eye as the candlelight glimmered across the golden letters stamped down the spine. Sadie looked closer at the dark red leather volume and read the title: Call of the Fae. There was no author listed. Sadie pulled the book from the shelf and set her candle into a holder on the desk.

She set the heavy book down and just stared at the cover for a moment. Then, she reached forward and opened it blindly to a random page in the center. The top of the page was titled The Faerie Ring and there was an old black and white drawing of a circle of mushrooms in the grass. Sadie’s eyes began to skim the pages, until she heard footsteps descending the stairs. She read faster, trying to absorb as much of the page as she could, knowing that, somehow, she was meant to see it.

Sadie slid the book back onto the shelf when she heard the footsteps reach the ground floor. She grabbed her candle and spun around to find herself suddenly face to face with Nobu. He rubbed his eyes, frowning at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Sadie sighed. “I thought you were Aunt Ira.”

Nobu scoffed. “Ew. Rude.”

Sadie rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” Nobu asked again.

“Reading,” said Sadie. “I couldn’t sleep. And… Nobu, I think we should go back to the cemetery.”

“Right now?”

Sadie nodded. “Right now.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, her wide, watery eyes sparkling up at him in the candlelight.

Nobu yawned, stretched, and glanced toward the window. The sun would peak over the horizon soon, and then Aunt Ira would be up and he would have to leave anyway.

“Okay,” he said.

 Not knowing particularly why, Sadie urged Nobu to run with her to the van, and to drive as fast as he could. He didn’t ask any questions, just did as he was asked, as always. He saw no harm in returning to the cemetery if Sadie wanted to be close to her mother.

The rain had stopped and it was a warm, breezy spring morning. Sadie felt the humidity on her skin for the first time since the previous summer and sighed with relief at the long-awaited return of sunshine and warm weather. She and Nobu walked briskly across the cemetery, right past Sadie’s mother’s grave, and toward the woods.

Sadie’s eyes were locked on the tree where she had seen the strangely familiar boy twice before, expecting him to simply appear at the blink of an eye. But he didn’t. They continued into the trees, the ground damp and covered in last year’s decaying foliage. Sadie practically glided through the trees while Nobu slipped along behind her, clumsily dodging tree branches and nearly falling every few steps when his sneakers sunk into the muddy leaves. He was tall and long-limbed and not necessarily coordinated. He was fast, though; one of the fastest runners on Sadie’s high school track team.

As they came to a small clearing in the woods, Sadie’s heart raced. She gripped Nobu’s wrist and could see his giant grin from the corner of her eye. The early morning sunlight beamed down through the opening in the trees to shine on a perfect circle of bright green grass. Around the edge of it were mushrooms, like little gray stools surrounding a big, circular stage. Sadie patted her pocket; she’d changed into black jeans and a purple tank top before leaving, her light blue sweatshirt tied around her waist. From her pocket, she procured what she’d been looking for; the small green canvas-bound book that used to belong to her mother.

“Okay,” said Nobu, “hang on a second. If this is real, you need to be very careful—we both need to be very careful about what we do next.”

Sadie didn’t move. She stood inches from the edge of the ring of mushrooms, her skin tingling, unable to blink or speak or think. Could it be? Could this possibly be an actual Faerie Ring, a portal into another world?

“Sadie.” Nobu’s voice was a bit louder now, insistent. “I think you should back away from the Ring.” He reached out and brushed her shoulder, and she turned to look at him, her eyes wide with wonder.

“We have to,” she said. “We have to go in.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Absolutely not, Parker, we are going to turn around and leave, right now. This isn’t safe.”

“Are you kidding me? You’ve been studying the Fae since you learned how to read. You should be jumping at the chance, this once in a lifetime opportunity to explore the world you think you know so much about.”

Nobu narrowed his eyes, crossed his arms. “If any of what I’ve learned about Faerie is true, then it is a very dangerous place. People like us are not welcome there.”

“If we weren’t welcome there,” said Sadie, “then why was I led to this Ring? Why would they bring us here if we weren’t meant to accept the invitation? You, of all people, should understand what it means to say no to an invitation from the Fae.”

That was it, Sadie thought. She had to appeal to his existing knowledge. She herself knew a little, and it was enough to pique her interest. If this Ring was just a natural coincidence, then so be it. But she would hate herself forever if she never even tried. She would wonder, for the rest of her life, and always regret not taking the chance.

“I’m doing this,” she said. “You don’t have to come with me, Nobu, but I refuse to turn my back. I’m stepping into that ring and, if all the lore is true and I get sucked into Faerie, well… then you’ll know, won’t you? You’ll know once and for all, for sure, one-hundred percent.”

He sighed. “I know it won’t matter what I say but I have to ask you not to do this, Sadie. Please. If Faerie is real, and you do open a door into that world, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. You could get trapped in between the two worlds – in Limbo – and never see me or anyone else ever again.”

They stared intently at each other for a moment and then, from the trees on the other side of the Ring, there came a voice that said, “He has a point, you know.”

Sadie and Nobu both turned to look, squinting through the beam of hot yellow sunlight that cut the air between them and whoever had spoken. The voice came again. “You really should not pass into Faerie without a proper guide, my lady. I would hate to have to travel into Limbo to rescue you.”

Sadie stood still and watched as the figure on the other side of the Ring began to move toward her, cutting straight across the patch of grass. Bars of golden sunlight poured down all around the tall, lean, figure, igniting his unruly hair like a rust red fire and dancing like fragments of diamond in his pale blue eyes.

It was like a moment in a movie; the wind blew gently through the trees, shaking branches together like nature’s wind chimes; time itself felt as though it had slowed down; in the distance, Sadie swore she could hear a beautiful bird song. Her chest ached for a moment as if her heart had swelled and threatened to burst. A sensation she had never known in her life washed over her, from head to toe, like a heat stroke. Her palms were sweating and her knees trembled, threatening to knock together and carry her crashing toward the ground at any moment.

She looked up. He stood before her, towering above her the way Nobu always had. He looked down at her with a sideways grin, and then bowed dramatically with one arm behind his back, the other extended toward her.

“It pleases me greatly to be once again in your presence, Miss Parker.”

Nobu snickered behind her and Sadie blushed. “Huh?”

“Forgive me,” said the mysterious red-haired boy. “I was told that you may not remember me. Let me introduce myself.” He took her hand, his skin soft and dotted here and there with faint freckles. His fingernails were painted gold. “My name is Quentin DeCroi, Soldier of the Solstice Army and Right Arm of the Daylight Prince. I have been looking for you a long, long time.”

[amongfandoms]

Precious

Pairing : the joker x reader (leto!joker)

A/N : I hope ya’ll like it. I have been itching to write an angsty joker fic. Hopefully i achieved it haha ❤❤

Everything fell apart in one night.

One second you were being tightly held by the clown prince as he laid you down on the bed and the next second you were left alone in your penthouse, crying as you wrapped yourself in heartache, watching him walk out of your home, your life.

‘J, is everything okay? ’ you inquired, peeking at him through your eyelids. He had his left hand folded behind his head while his other absentmindedly ran up and down your naked back as he stared at the ceiling. ‘ You were surprisingly gentle today. ’ you smiled, snuggling closer to him. You liked it when the both of you would take the sex slow and gentle. It doesn’t happen very often but it sure did leave an impact.

The silence from him was getting rather loud so you leaned up to kiss his jaw, in hopes to get his attention. You were slightly taken back when he pulled away quickly, swiftly swinging his leg over his side of the bed.  ‘Baby what’s wrong?’ you questioned, feeling cold from the sudden lost of warmness.

His body language read that he was rigid, tensed as his shoulders were squared under the moonlight.  ‘ You.’ 

You propped yourself up with one elbow, eyeing him. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ ‘You are too… too normal.’ his raspy voice filled the room.  

Sure, you didn’t exactly fit the persona of the ‘Crazy Lover of Joker’. In fact you were the complete opposite, a sane doctor in Gotham City who secretly dated the biggest criminal who does the exact opposite of your profession and sure you didn’t run around causing chaos, but he had repeatedly affirmed that it was perfect, what you had with him was ideal.

‘That makes you very boring.’ he continued. The words pierced your heart like a knife but you held back the anger and tears. ‘ Watch your words, J. ’ you warned.

By now, he already had his purple jacket on was reaching for the door.  ‘ Where the fuck are you going? ’ you asked, feeling very offended as you stalked behind him. His hands turned the doorknob as he looked straight ahead, not once maintaining eye contact.

‘I don’t want you anymore.’ was the last thing he said, before walking out of your bedroom.

You wanted to run after him and fight but your knees just wouldn’t move. Slowly his words sank in and your body started shaking, hot tears streaming down your face while you stared into emptiness while a major part of your happiness vanished.

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

*1 week later *

You ran your hands through your hair you stepped into your office, exhaling after a long day at the ER. The days have just merged together now, and you blocked out any emotion, pouring what’s left of your sanity into your work and patients, in hopes that at least they get a happy ending.

‘What took you sooo long?’

You froze mid action upon hearing that voice. Slowly turning around, you felt all kind of emotions fill in your chest at the sight of him slouching on your table. His head was hanging low as he pressed a bloodied cloth to his left abdomen. ‘Well, don’t just stand there, doctor. Fix me. ’ he chuckled, darkly.

Your doctor instincts flooded you as you stalked over to his frame with a first aid kit. No matter how angry you were, a wounded person should never left unattended. ‘I want you gone the second I’m done.’

You gently removed the cloth and examine the wound. ‘Gunshot?’ you inquired. ‘Yes.’ he winced, clutching onto the edge of the table as you wiped the wound with antiseptic. ‘But Frost took it out.’ You wanted to ask him why he couldn’t just have Frost clean it up but that would mean having a conversation and that was the last thing you needed right now. The room was awfully quiet, except for the sounds of his heavy breathing and your occasional coughs.

Your body was very close to his, so close that his exhales would fan against your neck, and the fact that his gaze never once left your face wasn’t helping the situation. Suddenly, he reached up to push a strand of hair out of your face that had fallen out as you finished up your work.

‘Don’t touch me,’ you hissed, pushing his hand away. ‘ you’re done, now leave.’  

‘Come here.’ he commanded. Gathering the used tools back into the box, you started to walk away, completely ignoring him. ‘I said fucking come here.’ he growled.

And within seconds, the contents in the box spilled onto the floor as he had your body locked against the table and him. ‘Talk to me.’ he instructed, darkly.

‘Stop telling me what to do.’ you spat, trying to remain calm but not long after the words left your lips, you felt the tears streaming down your face.

‘Don’t cry, doll. You know how helpless I get.’

Not bothering to wipe the tears away, you tried to move from his grip but he held you in place. By now, you were a quivering pile of mess, tears were streaming down your cheeks as the past week emotions came spilling out. The voice in your head was telling you to get away from him, to get away from him before anything happens. But your heart silently begged you stay for a while longer, to stand up for yourself. ‘ How dare you say those things to me?’ you squeaked.

He responded by tipping your gaze to his with his index finger, his eyes searching for yours. ‘ How dare you believe all that?’ he questioned, looking down at you.

Leaning down, he hastily crashed his lips to yours, holding you by the neck. It took you sometime to process the situation, but you have gotten too used to his kiss to not return it back. You slid your hands up his biceps and around his neck, voluntarily deepening the kiss. He pushed you onto the table, gripping your thighs. The both of your poured all emotion into the kiss, hatred, anger, lust and heartache. ‘ You are the most precious thing in my life.’ he mumbled, in between kisses as he pushed you further onto the table.

‘But I need you out of my life, princess.’ he confessed, cutting the heated moment short. You quietly cursed at the sudden lost of warmness. 

‘Why?’ you questioned, hopping off the table.

A small smile, almost sad played across his face.

‘Because I love you.’ he said and vanished out of your office.

A/N: OMG OMG. HOW WAS ITTT?! please please send feedback! I wanted to try something new hehe.