#ghosts in paris? it’s more likely than you think

[unlocked-doors-verse]

Origins: Character Headcanons + Lore Thoughts

Good timezone!

So, here's some added development to the AU! Of course, Mystery Kids is still happening but again, I have a lot of prompts to get through

For starters, the readers are not immediately introduced to all of the characters at once; this will be split in about 4-5 one-shots (certain characters will meet the others beforehand and then do a big meet toward the end- that is all i'm going to say for now). Part 1 is actively being worked on - ft. a cross between Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug, but for now- I plan on focusing with character headcanons and some additional lore elements everyone can be privy too!

On one hand, we have Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug where we have Danny Fenton, Adrien Agreste, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng - and their initial first meeting during Secret Origins

Danny Phantom / Miraculous Ladybug Headcanons

~ Out of the trio, Danny is the oldest; Adrien and Marinette are the youngest (there's a year of difference between them and Danny) [author's cut: I based this on when the respective shows came out. Danny Phantom aired in the early 2000's with Miraculous Ladybug getting released sometime in 2014/2015]

~ This isn't spoilers per se, but there's going to be a case of mistaken identity when Danny meets Adrien and Mari for the first time. The rest is spoilers, and I will leave you to try and figure it out! The only thing I'm going to say is that ghosts aren't a common thing in Paris-

~ This is set in an ambiguous timeline- the only thing I will say for certain is that Phantom Planet has yet to happen. A lot of the current canon for Miraculous Ladybug has been completely disregarded- partially because I never got past... I'd say season five? (and what I've heard about the newer seasons sounds like entering the Twilight Zone-)

~ Danny is auDHD because it just makes sense- (he has dual special interests on space and inventions; not to mention his ghostly obsession)

~ Adrien and Mari are definitely some breed of neurodivergent (autistic! Adrien, at least and I thought Mari is ADHD or something- this is canon now you can't tell me I'm wrong /lh)

~ Danny and his family end up in Paris, France during the summer due to reasons

~ so far, no identity reveals beyond the obvious have happened. For Danny, it only applies to Sam and Tucker; in Miraculous Ladybug, Mari isn't willing to share her identity with Adrien (this is done on purpose as this is still early into the character introductions)

~ this is no way a spoiler, but Adrien and Danny are so going to bond over puns and jokes- (and other reasons but shhh)

~ unresolved traumas? oh, absolutely- like on one hand, you have Danny who has definitely been going through the burner with protecting his own identity not from his enemies but his parents; Mari definitely has a savior complex and is so set on saving everyone, she barely puts herself first- and Adrien, my sweet summer child- how do I explain what this kid is going through when it comes to Gabriel fucking Agreste? (author's cut: Gabriel is not a good parent lol- I'm not doing a full meta-analysis on him but he doesn't really have Adrien's best interests at heart)

~ Adrien does try to see the best in everyone, but he is wearing down from certain things- i am not going to sugarcoat things, because this is going to a different level of mature and Adrien does try and cover how he feels

Lore Thoughts + Elements

~ As mentioned before, ghosts are not a common thing within Paris. Danny would be an outlier in the equation because this isn't something the citizens have seen before, and it might take some time for them to adjust further into the first arc of the SQ AU

~ If this somehow isn't obvious, Akuma attacks do not occur inside Amity Park (as for one thing, Hawk Moth has never once stepped foot inside the city and for another- ghosts and Kwamis do not mix, it's just not possible)

~ however, citizens from Amity Park can be Akumatized should they leave or if, say, somehow- they were brought into the city but for now, do what you will with this information. Good luck

~ (implied plot elements) "In the purple smoke lies what you hold most dear; to undo what has been done, break the cycle and rewind the masked's design". (author's cut: i'm sure you can figure this one out, but honestly there is so much more coming, so keep an eye out!)

~ Secret Origins Lore / Teen Heroes AU (the name is still subject to change): as mentioned before, there will be about 4-5 one-shots before the main story releases- this may have a little bit of major plot arcs so read at your own discretion - due to the overlapping themes within the four fandoms, there are multiple sectors throughout the world that are specifically for the current growing number of teen superheroes (author's cut: the Dragon Council, for instance- among others, take with this what you will. of course there's more to come)

~ since this is only the first in the Secret Origins background- character introductions are fairly limited; and honestly, I was going to use one of the specials to push forth the lore but ultimately, I scrapped that version (but I could rewrite the version of events that could have happened: especially since I had tied it back to the New York special-) though the alternate version aside, going back to the introductions- the point is for the sectors to slowly become part of... well, let's just say that certain alliances within this piece are going to be only one part of what's to come-

(Author's Cut: As of right now, this project continues to remain a Work in Progress and of course, I'm trying to limit myself with the spoilers- currently the early stages of the Miraculous Ladybug x Danny Phantom fanfic are being worked on, and I am considering writing a small snippet of it! Without spoilers, of course!

You’re going to see a lot more for this and the Unlocked Doors AU soon. These poor kids are definitely going to through it.)

~ Mod Danny

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 11 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: cursing, alcohol, minor character ghosting everyone, cheating?, explicit content: a spicy videocall, mutual masturbation?, fingering/jerking off, sex toy (vibrator)

☆word count: 8.4k

☆a/n: this one hurts, but I hope you'll still love it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Tuesday, April 30th 

You’ve been lost in thought for hours - every hour feels like a whole day, and you can’t focus on what Ria is saying right now. She went off while speaking about Seokjin, but all you’re able to do is look out the vitrine of the café where you’re sitting along with Nabi. It’s raining - you think it’s fitting now that Jungkook is gone.

He’s texted you throughout the day, more than he usually does. It’s been reassuring, yet you feel like there is finality in the world today, in the way raindrops chase each other on the glass of the vitrine like you used to chase cars around Jungkook’s head. You haven’t replied to his last text message, haven’t even opened it yet.

You don’t dare to when you’re sitting with your friends.

“Are you even listening?” Ria’s annoyed voice cuts through your thoughts, and you startle, looking at her.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

She groans loudly, and then says, “What do you think about Seokjin?”

You widen your gaze, holding in a smile. “Why do you want to know?”

“He’s annoying, right?” she says.

“Is that why you’ve been spending all of your free time with him?” Nabi interjects, earning a glare from Ria.

“I have not.”

“You certainly have,” Nabi insists. “Both you and Y/n have been MIA to study sesh during the finals because you were with your boyfriends.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, your throat drying. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Nabi and Ria both throw you a no-bullshit look, but Ria loses it first, saying, “And I’m not dating Seokjin.”

“Where were you yesterday?” Nabi asks.

The prolonged silence is revealing, and you burst out laughing at the same time as Nabi.

“It doesn’t mean anything!” Ria says.

You pick up your smoothie, taking a long sip from it as Nabi says, “Obviously not. That’s why you have a hickey on your neck.”

You choke on your sip as Ria blushes, yet in pure Ria fashion, she wiggles her eyebrows. “What about it? At least I’m not fucking my brother’s best friend and lying about it even though everyone in the world literally knows.”

You put down your drink, gaze widening. “That was low.”

“Deserved though,” Ria insists, folding her arms on her chest.

There’s no animosity to the way she is speaking. Just amusement, and a teasing undertone that strikes a nerve now that he’s in Paris and the future of your relationship is so uncertain.

“For what?” you let out, looking towards Nabi for help. She pretends she isn’t listening, looking down at her empty latté mug, but you see on her face how she’s waiting for you to say something. “Tae wouldn’t let it happen.”

“Tae was gone for the semester,” Ria points out. “And you spent a lot of time with Jungkook, and he always drove you home and shit. We know, babes, I don’t know why you try to pretend it wasn’t happening.”

“You’re just trying to get the conversation away from you and Seokjin!”

It’s a weak comeback, but it’s all you can do.

“For real, even though I might be sleeping with Jin,” Ria says, introducing a nickname you’ve never heard her say before, “I’m not into him for more than that. But you and Jungkook…”

You feel like throwing your smoothie at her, but you choose peace and remain silent.

“So you are fucking Seokjin,” Nabi chimes in, throwing you a lifeline you immediately grasp on.

Ria shrugs. “So what if I am?” she asks. “It’s just sex.”

You think about Seokjin, about the forlorn look in his eyes whenever you’re out in public, and she flirts with other people. You highly doubt it’s just sex for him, but he’s too respectful to tell Ria, isn’t he?

“Is it though?” you say.

Ria nods forcefully. “At least to me it is. If it’s not the case for him then that sounds like his problem, not mine.”

You wince in time with Nabi, and she says, “That’s mean, Ri.”

She throws her hands up in defence. “What do you want me to say? I don’t like him like that.”

That’s fair enough. You can’t force a heart to love, like you’d realized last November with Hoseok. 

No matter how much you’d tried to love him, you’d never even had butterflies with him. Maybe even then you knew that true love wasn’t to be found with Hoseok, but with Jungkook instead…

“He’s great though,” Nabi says. “He’s got a solid research grant.”

“I’m not a nerd like you guys. I don’t care about his research grant”

You snort. “You so are a nerd. You like anime.”

“Anime isn’t for nerds,” she insists. Which, you totally agree with the statement. You’ve watched a couple of them with Jungkook, and you found each and every one of them fun to watch.

But Ria doesn’t need to know that.

“Yeah yeah,” you say. “Keep telling that to yourself.”

She glares at you, but Nabi intervenes with, “Why wouldn’t you care about the grant? It’s really good for him.”

Ria shrugs, falling serious. “Because I don’t care about him like that. He’s just a good fuck.”

Ria’s always been like this. Ever since you’ve met her, she’s always been the type to sleep around, and you’ve always encouraged her for it, as it was helping her get over the fact that she was cheated on. Yet right now you feel bad for Seokjin - maybe because you know he’s into her, and you wish for her the happiness you’ve been experiencing with Jungkook.

Happiness that is now on hold, possibly never to resume.

“Fair enough,” you say, and you grab your smoothie to finish it, taking two long sips.

“What about you and Jungkook?” Ria then asks, and she smirks victoriously.

You put the empty smoothie glass away, sighing deeply. “Honestly right now there’s nothing to tell.”

“Did you fuck him?”

You purse your lips, shrugging. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because it’s so obvious!” Ria says. “Your hair sometimes smells like cologne, and you can’t tell me it’s someone other than him. You would have told us if you were seeing someone else.”

“Not that I want to stir shit but…” Nabi trails off. “She’s got a point.”

“Leave me alone,” you grumble, though you don’t see the point in hiding it anymore.

It’s not like they might say something in front of Jungkook’s friends, who would then tell Taehyung. You’re planning to tell Taehyung the second he lands and crosses the threshold of your shared apartment after all.

“You’re blushing,” Ria teases.

“Because you’re putting me on the spot!” you say, shaking your head. “Leave me alone.”

“Oh no.” Ria’s face falls, and her mouth hangs open for a few seconds as her eyes go round. “Oh no, babes.”

“What?” you let out, sounding grumpier than you feel.

No, you just feel apprehensive as her whole demeanour changes.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

It falls like a hydrogen bomb, leaving nothing but dust behind. And you can’t answer. All you have to offer is a blink, and the sound of your heart shattering in the distance.

“Oh no,” Nabi cuts in. “Y/n, you know his reputation…”

“We’ve been together since Valentine’s Day,” you quickly say, only so that they stop before making you feel bad. You’ve gone down that road before, and you’ve long come back from it. “Or as together as we can be considering Tae.”

“Bitch you what?” Ria shrieks. “That’s insane. You were letting me go on and on about him while you were with him?”

“Wait, you’re with him like boyfriend-girlfriend?” Nabi asks before you can reply to Ria.

“I knew he wouldn’t get with you,” you say to Ria, and then you glance at Nabi. “And no, we’ve never really talked about it, or referred to it as boyfriend-girlfriend.”

“So, it’s a situationship then?” Ria asks.

Though the words pain you grandly, they ring true. Far too true for it to be comfortable. “I guess so. But… I know the feelings are reciprocated.”

You sound delusional, even to your own ears. Maybe because he’s on an entire other continent - out of sight, out of mind. But you saw his soft gaze whenever he looks at you. You were there when he kissed you by the door before leaving yesterday. 

I promise I’ll come back to you and make it work, he’d whispered.

And fuck, all you want to do is believe him, believe that there’s a way you truly can make it work.  

“I hope you’re right,” Nabi says, though she sounds infinitely doubtful.

You don’t blame her. They don’t truly know Jungkook - not like you do.

“Wait…” Ria repeats, though this time she continues with, “That means you were together with him when you went to New York.”

The extravagance of the luxurious condo where he’d grown up flashes before your eyes as you nod once. “Yeah.”

“Bitch!” Ria lets out. “I knew it! I can’t believe you pretended you guys were just friends then.”

Unable to stay silent anymore, you retell your relationship to your friends. You tell them everything - how it started, how it entirely changed in New York, what he’d whispered right before he’d left. You tell them everything, not mentioning the fact that Jungkook is rich, feeling like that isn’t your story to tell. 

You feel lighter after. Like finally being able to tell people has taken a weight off your shoulders. You reckon, you might start flying when Taehyung knows. When you don’t have to hide it from anyone anymore - you’ll be weightless, like a cloud in the sky up above.

It’s with that in mind that you head home for dinner, Nabi having something planned with Namjoon and Ria having to head to work. You check your phone as you walk home, safely hidden underneath your red umbrella.

[4:14 pm] JK: any chance we can facetime tonight?

It’s almost an hour later, yet Jungkook’s text makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you smile down at your phone as you reply with,

[5:07 pm] You: i’ll be home in 10 min, you still up?

Jungkook’s answer comes almost half an hour later when you’re trying to cook some noodles the same way that he showed you - a lot spicier than what you can handle, but spicy makes you think of him, so spicy it is.

[5:33 pm] JK: i’ll call you in two

You assume he needs to find a place to hide so that your brother doesn’t hear, and you apprehensively - in a good way obviously - wait for him to call as you gauge the amount of gochujang to put in your noodles. He ends up calling five minutes later, and you immediately answer, a bright smile on your lips.

Jungkook is smiling just as brightly when he comes into view, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you. He looks a little dazed, like maybe he’s had something to drink, but he still looks just as beautiful as he always has.

Even a phone camera cannot dim Jeon Jungkook’s beauty. 

His eyebrow piercing glints in the soft light on his side of the line, where he’s sitting outside. He toys at his lip piercings, glancing away from his phone for a few seconds before setting his gaze back on you.

“Hey peach,” he greets you.

Your heart is warm, gentle, when you reply, “Hey Kook.”

He notices you’re in the kitchen as you stir the noodles, and his gaze widens just a little as he says, “Are you cooking?” You flip the camera to show him your creation, and he nods approvingly. “You’re getting good at this,” he praises, and a light blush covers your cheeks.

“Only because I had the best teacher,” you say as you flip the camera back towards you.

He chuckles. “The best indeed.” There’s a pause as he glances around again, seemingly making sure that no one can hear, and then he asks, “What were you up to today?”

“I went to a café with Ria and Nabi,” you admit. Your cheeks burn even more, and you avert your gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, immediately noticing your unease.

“I might have told them about us,” you reveal, and you worry at your bottom lip.

You think he’ll be mad, upset, but instead he laughs, a clear sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “You’re adorable. I can’t wait to tell my friends either.”

“As soon as you come back,” you promise. “We’ll tell Tae the second he walks into the apartment.”

Jungkook nods vehemently. “I’m not waiting a second longer,” he agrees. “And if he’s pissed, we can just run into the sunset together.”

That makes you laugh, and Jungkook watches you, his eyes sparkling with amusement and what you want to believe is love.

“He will be pissed,” you warn him. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“We will.”

You fall silent as voices are heard on the other side of the line. They’re speaking French, so you can’t really tell what they’re saying, and you wait as Jungkook watches them walking by before focusing his eyes on you again. 

“Where are you?” you ask him.

“Just in a park outside of the Airbnb,” he replies. “Thought it might be better to call you while outside.”

“Good call.” You move the pot in which you’re cooking your noodles away from the heat on the stove, turning it off. “What did you do today?”

Jungkook tells you about his day as you pour your noodles in a bowl, and then sit at the table to eat. It’s too hot for the first few minutes, so you just listen as Jungkook tells you about his overnight flight, and about the struggle to find the Airbnb. He admits he napped for three hours straight when they finally got there, and that they went out for dinner after, coming home around the time he texted you earlier to Facetime.

The first bite of your noodles reveals that you might have made them a little too spicy, but under Jungkook’s watchful gaze, you make sure to eat everything, dousing the spice with the Yakult you’ve bought because Jungkook likes to mix it with soju.

“You know,” Jungkook says as you finish eating, your cheeks red with the spice. “I wish you were here with us. Seeing Sera and Jimin, and Ariane and Tae…” he trails off, offering you a sad smile. “I really wish you were here, peach.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you offer him a small smile. “I really wish I was with you, too.”

A beat of silence passes, while you get lost in his gaze and he gets lost in yours. He furrows his brows a moment later, and he says, “Tae texted me to come back.”

“Oops,” you let out, and he chuckles softly.

“I don’t want to hang up though,” he says, and he pouts in that cute way of his.

“Keep me in your pocket then,” you challenge. “I’ll be mute as a rock.”

He cocks an eyebrow as he laughs. “I’ll turn off my volume just to be sure. I’ll try to hide in the bathroom or something.”

You approve of his plan, and a second later your screen goes dark as Jungkook does indeed hide you in his pocket. You move to your bedroom as you wait, and you hear noises coming from his side, though most of it is muffled by the fabric.

It takes almost ten minutes, but Jungkook pulls you out in a blindingly bright bathroom, the fan loud enough to hide your speaking.

“I’m back,” he says.

You chuckle. “Obviously.”

He narrows his gaze, and then scans your features. “You’re so pretty.”

The compliment takes you by surprise, and your cheeks turn red as you let out, “Oh.” You gulp, and then add, “Thank you.”

“And you might think I’m insane but, fuck, am I crazy for wanting you right now?”

Your blush deepens as you watch his gaze go from sparkly to lustful as he pulls on his piercings.

“Right now?” you repeat, feeling a little breathless all of a sudden.

He nods. “Yeah. I already miss how you feel when I’m balls deep inside of you.”

You roll your eyes, the redness lingering on your cheeks. “We had sex yesterday morning,” you remind him.

“Yeah, and?”

He’s insufferable. He’s insufferable and adorable and, if everything goes well, this man might be yours in a week.

It sets your nerves alight with reciprocated desire, and you bite at your lower lip. “Nothing,” you innocently say. “I’d definitely suck your dick right now though.”

His gaze hardens almost imperceptibly. “Peach.”

You smirk. “What?”

“Anything else you’d do?” he asks, and he shifts where he’s sitting.

“Mmh.” You pause, let the suspense linger. “Maybe I’d tie you up. You’re always trying to control everything, maybe you deserve to be put back into your place.”

“Shit.” You know your bold words had their effect on him when he shifts again, sucking on his piercings harder. He runs a hand through his hair, and then he says, “I’ll fuck you so hard when I come back, peach. I want to hear you screaming my name.”

“So loud Tae hears?” you tease.

He has the decency to look slightly embarrassed, yet you know him enough to know it probably just turns him on more. 

“Definitely,” he says. He inhales sharply, leaning back against the wall. “I’ll fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum.”

You’ve never had sex without a condom, but you remember that first night when he’d fingered you with his cum…

You’ve always been insane for him, haven’t you? 

You clench your thighs together, seeking friction, as you notice Jungkook moving to touch himself too. 

“You will?” you say, breathless.

He nods, and then he curses under his breath. “Now I’m hard for you.”

“Yeah?” you let out. “Show me.”

His eyes darken even more, and he chuckles lowly. “I don’t do nudes, peach.”

It surprises you so much that you lose your arousal for a few seconds, up until Jungkook grunts.

“Well, you’ll do it for me, mmh?” you tease, a smirk adorning your lips.

“You’d like that, huh?”

You would. A lot more than you should - you’ve never been big on nudes either. But… phone sex isn’t exactly nudes, is it?

“I would,” you say after a few seconds of debating if you should or should not do it. “I want to see you, Kook.”

The nickname undoes him. Jungkook sucks on his piercings, and then he moves, his camera blurring. You know he’s taken his pants off when he comes back on screen, his eyes swirling with lust for you.

“Why don’t you show me yourself first?” he asks.

You don’t even hesitate. You’re in bed after all, and ridding yourself of your clothes only takes about thirty seconds, as Jungkook listens to the rustle of the fabric.

You grab your phone when you’re fully naked, making sure that he can’t see anything yet.

“What do you want to see?” you ask, and you only then realize that Jungkook is shirtless, and from the motion in his bicep, he’s clearly jerking off.

You turn molten, liquid lava, like you’re the magma under the tectonic plates. 

“All of you,” he purrs. “I want to see all of you, peach.”

You oblige, propping your phone against a pillow as you lie against another pillow. Jungkook immediately moves his camera so that you can see how he’s stroking himself, and you let out a breathy sound as your hand slides between your legs, pressing lazy circles on your clit. Jungkook watches you hungrily, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck, I wish I could touch you right now,” he says, voice low and husky.

“I wish you could,” you echo.

He picks up his pace on his dick, wrist twisting when he’s close to the top, grip tight like you know he likes it. It’s sinfully beautiful, arousing, and your circles grow faster, quicker, desperate as you seek the pleasure only he can provide.

“Don’t be shy,” he says after a few seconds. “Use your vibrator.”

You don’t need to be told twice, and the second the toy is vibrating and buried inside you, you let out a low-clipped moan.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Jungkook says. “With your tattoo and just… fuck.”

You just answer with a moan that sounds like his name, and he curses again.

“You make me such a mess,” he says. “A fucking mess for you, peach.”

“Yeah?” you breathlessly let out.

“Fuck yeah.”

Your pussy makes squelching sounds as you push the toy in and out of yourself, the buzz a background to the lustful actions you’re partaking in. Jungkook’s camera isn’t quite angled on his dick anymore, but you don’t even care.

Not when you’re aware he’s watching you, drinking every little sound you emit as pleasure rakes through your body. The thought is far too enticing, arousing, and your walls clench around the toy.

“Shit, I’ll come so quickly,” you admit, not even embarrassed about it.

“Do it, peach,” Jungkook says. “Fucking come for me.”

You don’t need more, the crude words pushing you over the edge. You still the motions of the toy inside of you as your walls pulse and pulse, yet you keep drawing circles - slow again - as you milk your orgasm out of you. Jungkook watches it all like he’s starved for you, and when you finally pull your toy out of yourself, he’s the one that groans, “Fuck peach, I think I’ll come too.”

You don’t even have to say anything. He immediately comes, white spurts of cum shooting from his dick. The white cum covers his hand, his tattoos, and you almost want to start again, the sight so devilish yet so beautiful to you.

“Fuck,” Jungkook says, grunting as he keeps milking his climax out of himself, his pace barely slowed down. 

Eventually, his dick stops twitching, and Jungkook stops, hand wrapped around the base. You eye the cum still dripping from his hand, rolling down the back of it.

It’s pornographic. Deadfully so, and you bite at your lower lip.

“That was hot,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathes, and he puts his phone down, revealing the ceiling and the light fixture. “It really was.”

You assume he’s cleaning himself up, so you quickly do the same, heading to the bathroom. 

Jungkook comes back into view when you’re on your way back to your room, and you feel shy under his gaze. Not embarrassed, but what just happened makes your heart skip beats and your cheeks burn, in all the right ways.

“We should do this again,” Jungkook says when you’re lying in bed once more, your vibrator cleaned and put away in your night table.

You smirk mischievously. “Wouldn’t you like that?” you tease.

He laughs, and it makes you miss him so much your heart squeezes in your chest.

He’s only been gone for a day, and you’re already going insane. You’re lucky it’s just a week - in six days he’ll be back, and hopefully you’ll never have to be apart again.

“I would,” he says, and he offers you a lopsided grin that makes you want to hold onto him, forever.

You take a deep breath around the emotion as it swells up in your chest, in your soul. The smile you offer him is warm, filled with all the feelings that your heart hosts for him, and he immediately reciprocates.

“Can’t wait for you to be back,” you admit, voice small as if you’re afraid he’ll reject you.

You know he won’t - you’re creating that universe where it makes sense for you to be together after all.

“Soon, peach,” he promises. “And then I’ll annoy your ass until you don’t like me anymore.”’

As if that would be possible. 

“Good luck with that.” 

He chuckles softly, and it breaks into a yawn, reminding you that, even though he’s just on the other side of the screen, he’s in an entirely different timezone, and he’s likely still jet-lagged from his overnight flight.

“Tired?” you ask.

He nods. “I’ll go to bed as soon as we hang up,” he says. “We’re visiting the Louvres tomorrow.”

Your phone vibrates in your hand as a text comes in, but you can’t read the text at the top of your screen before it disappears. You switch to your messages app, brows furrowed.

“Where did you go?” Jungkook whines.

Your heart drops to your ass as you read the text once, twice, trying to make sense of it.

[6:07 pm] Yoongi: hobi left and blocked me

A second text comes in just a few seconds later.

[6:08 pm] Yoongi: he didn’t even say goodbye

You immediately switch to your conversation with Hoseok, and you ask him what’s up, but the text remains green despite the fact that the rest of the conversation is filled with blue bubbles. 

He’s blocked you too. And when you go to the group chat with all of your other friends, you notice he’s left it as well, and you’re blocked on social media too.

“Where are you?” Jungkook whines again, the pout in his voice evident.

You go back to Facetime. “I think I’ll have to go.”

He looks displeased, and he toys with his piercings, his tongue pushing into his cheek a second later. “Why?”

“Yoongi needs me,” you say. “And!” you quickly add before he can say anything. “It’s about Hobi.”

“What about Hobi?” Jungkook asks, and you hear the annoyance just as well as you see it etched on his features.

You usually find him adorable when he gets jealous, but right now you can’t even focus on that, your thoughts going to Yoongi, whose heart is likely shattering on and on at the moment.

“He left and blocked everyone,” you tell Jungkook. “So yeah, I think Yoongi’s going to need me tonight.”

Jungkook doesn’t like the explanation. It’s clear as spring water, yet he still says, “M’kay.”

“We can call again tomorrow?” you suggest, hoping that it’d reassure him.

Even though he doesn’t need reassurance - there’s no one else in your heart but him, and you hope he knows it.

“Sure,” he says.

It’s your turn to pout. “Please?”

At that he melts, his features softening. “Well if you ask so nicely…” 

That ends the conversation, and you quickly say goodbye, wishing him a good night. You take him in up until he hangs up the call, missing him the second that he’s gone. 

But you know Yoongi needs you, no matter how much you wish you could stay here with Jungkook. 

*****

Two hours later, you’re sitting on Yoongi’s bed, Namjoon on your left while Yoongi sits on the floor, his back against the bed. He’s drinking a beer, and you have an unopened one next to you. Condensation covers the bottle, yet you haven’t found it in you to drink yet.

Yoongi has been silent. You’d got there almost at the same time as Namjoon, and you’d been surprised to see him. Namjoon had just shrugged and said, “I’ve known him my whole life”, and that had been that.

It’s hard to cheer Yoongi up. Even harder after he told you that all Hoseok left behind was a letter of apologies. And you’ve read the letter - it broke your heart too, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yoongi’s feeling.

In the letter, Hoseok explained why he decided to leave. You were right - he wanted to leave because of his relationship with Yoongi, seeking to flee from the reality of it, from the fact that Yoongi was his best friend, and that he felt like he’d lost that. It’s something you can understand - losing a friend is always hard, and sometimes the friendship is worth more than a relationship. At least it was to Hoseok. And though in the letter he claims that he’s enjoyed the last few months with Yoongi, his sudden absence, with no way to contact him, is proof enough that he didn’t really.

At least that’s what Yoongi’s been saying. 

Namjoon was shocked when Yoongi revealed his relationship with Hoseok. Even more so as he realized that you, out of everyone, were the only one who knew. Yet he’d taken it in stride, offering to have a beer with Yoongi.

“It’s fucking bullshit,” Yoongi says for what seems to be the hundredth time. 

You’d let him say it a thousand times more if that helped him feel better.

“You know what we should do?” Namjoon says from beside you.

You glance at him, before setting your gaze on the back of Yoongi’s head again.

“What?” Yoongi asks, looking over his shoulder.

“What about a rage room?”

Yoongi laughs an empty laugh. “No thank you. Though maybe it would help temporarily, I kind of just want to find a way to tell Hobi he’s a dick.”

You quickly found out that Hoseok has indeed blocked everyone from the friend group. As if cutting everyone out of his life was the only way he’d find solace in his new life. You think it’s a cowardly thing to do, and you’ve said so a couple of times already, to Yoongi’s delight.

“I don’t think that would bring you anywhere,” Namjoon carefully answers, the voice of reason itself.

You disagree, as you’ve always had more of an explosive personality, but you remain silent.

Yoongi glares at Namjoon. “It’d bring me a lot of satisfaction, thank you very much.”

Yoongi is funny. Behind all the cold exterior he has for people he doesn’t know, he’s got a funny persona you never thought was there. And you love it - he reminds you of you in some ways, and maybe that’s why you’ve gotten so close so easily.

“I personally think we should find out where he went and slash his tires,” you innocently say as you grab the beer bottle.

Namjoon narrows his gaze. “I doubt that’d be a good idea.”

“But fuck if it wouldn’t feel good,” Yoongi says, and he hands you the beer opener.

You open your beer, immediately bringing it to your lips as it foams and it threatens to spill. You drink as much of it as you can, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“It would,” you echo. “But maybe we can resort to more peaceful options. I feel like Namjoonie here will go insane if we keep suggesting stuff like that.”

“He’s boring, isn’t he?” Yoongi says.

“Yeah, why did you invite him?”

Namjoon snorts. “You guys are aware that I’m right here?”

“Did someone say something?”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, pursing his lips. “I’m not sure. Maybe the apartment is haunted.”

“It has to be,” you agree, nodding forcefully.

“What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” Namjoon asks, and you burst out laughing in time with Yoongi.

You’re relieved to hear him laugh. You didn’t know what to expect when you’d suggested coming over, but it’s a relief that he isn’t that much of a mess.

But then again, you have a feeling Yoongi is the kind of person to put on a mask whenever he’s with people. And maybe that’s okay - maybe tonight you’re just a distraction to keep him from spiraling out of control. 

You don’t mind. 

“Nothing,” Yoongi says, sighing deeply. “Besides the fact that I’ve just been ghosted by my best friend.”

You wince at the harsh reality of his words, but Yoongi shrugs it off as Namjoon says, “It’ll get better.”

Another sigh moves through Yoongi, and he nods. “I know. It’s just going to suck for a while.”

You shift, sliding from his bed down to the floor so that you can sit next to him. “And that’s okay.”

He avoids your gaze as you look at his profile, and so you glance away, your eyes sliding to his record player. The record he put on when you arrived has done playing, and you’ve been sitting in silence for fifteen minutes, but it’s a comfortable silence.

Maybe because you speak when needed, and Yoongi and Namjoon have a calm aura to them that you find you appreciate far more than you’d expect. You’re used to Ria after all, and though you love her, she’s a tornado everywhere she goes.

“How are you and Nabi?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden.

Namjoon blushes, as the quick glance towards him tells you. “You sure you want to talk about that?”

Yoongi shrugs. “It’s not because I’m miserable that everyone has to be.”

“You’re not miserable,” you gently say.

Yoongi’s side eye makes you stifle a laugh. “Let me be miserable.” There’s a pause, and Yoongi eventually pushes up from his bed, sitting straighter so that he can turn and look at Namjoon. “So?”

“We’re good,” Namjoon finally replies. “I’m trying to take things slow because of…” he trails off as he looks at you. “But yeah, we’re good.”

“That’s great,” Yoongi says, and though it doesn’t sound sarcastic at all, he adds, “Genuinely. You deserve it man.”

You don’t know a lot about Namjoon’s previous relationship. Just the girl’s name - Julia - and you can’t help the curiosity that overtakes you. But you’re not a dick. Indeed, you hold your questions in, instead saying, “If you hurt her, you’re a dead man.”

He winces, laughing lightly. “Ria told me the exact same thing.”

“Because Nabi is too precious and she needs to be protected at all cost,” you vehemently say, half-joking. You follow up with, “But seriously, please do take things slowly, and always be honest to her. She’s had this massive crush on you, and I really don’t want her to get hurt.”

“I know,” Namjoon says, and he sighs, looking down the neck of his half-empty beer bottle. “I’ve had a crush on her too so…”

“You did?”

Yoongi laughs. “He so did. He kept mentioning her for months, saying that she was just a friend.”

“I mean, technically she was,” Namjoon says, trying to defend himself.

He’s blushing furiously now - it’s climbing up his neck and covering his whole face, and you think, that right here is what Nabi deserves.

“We always knew it wasn’t just that, though,” Yoongi says. “Clearly Julia knew too.”

Namjoon’s expression falls, and he sighs deeply. “Yeah. To be fair, she’s the one that decided to end things.”

You remain silent, taking a long sip of beer to refrain from saying something stupid, something that would silence Namjoon. You hate the taste of beer though, and you scrunch up your nose in disgust as you swallow. It goes unnoticed by both men, as Yoongi says, “Honestly, Julia was a bitch.”

“She had it rough growing up,” Namjoon replies, his voice drowning in what you think might be nostalgia, or regrets. “Hopefully she’ll get better from now on.”

“Having rough circumstances growing up doesn’t give someone an excuse to be a dick though,” Yoongi flatly says, not one to mince his words after all. “But yeah, hopefully she’ll get the help she clearly needs.”

Damn. You almost feel bad for the girl, but then again you don’t know her. Maybe Yoongi’s animosity towards her is deserved, and you don’t feel like questioning it.

No, you’d rather Namjoon forget about her and focus on Nabi instead.

“Whatever,” Namjoon lets out, shrugging his shoulders. “Even though everything with Nabi is recent, I feel a lot better with her than I ever felt with Julia.”

“Not hard to beat,” Yoongi grumbles underneath his breath, which earns him a slap behind the head from Namjoon.

“Hey, I get that you’re sad but don’t be a dick,” Namjoon sternly says.

Namjoon is a natural leader. You’ve seen it before, when he’d led your team from Frosh week to success. And you’ve seen it every time he’s TA’d a class, yet right now you realize he might be a leader in his friendships as well. Indeed, Yoongi folds, apologizing right away.

You end up spending the evening at Yoongi’s place. Your other friends join, and though the air around Seokjin and Ria is clearly tense, you end up having a blast. Even Yoongi seems to be enjoying himself, but when you notice him increasingly silent, you suggest heading home. He offers you a thankful gaze, and you guide everyone out of the apartment.

To your surprise, Yoongi hugs you goodbye, holding you close for a few seconds longer than you’d thought he’d be comfortable with. But then again, you reckon he might need it, so you hug him tight, letting him choose when to pull away.

“Thank you for tonight,” he whispers when he does, and his eyes glint with the silver on his waterline.

You offer him what you hope is a comforting smile. “Anytime, Yoongi. Just say the word and I’ll be here for you.”

“I’ll remember.”

You smile again, and then you wish him good night, walking out of the apartment last. Yoongi keeps the door open as you all walk down the stairs, and he shuts it when you’ve all disappeared from view. 

You send him a silent prayer to be gentle with himself, and you can only hope he hears it over the sound of his breaking heart.

Friday, May 3rd

You like your summer job. It’s chill, and you don’t have to start too early, so you always enjoy it. You’re an assistant at an optometry clinic, which means you do the pre-tests for the doctors, and since they don’t start before 10 am, you don’t either. 

What you don’t like is that one of the optometrists finishes at seven pm, which means you also do, and finishing at seven pm on a Friday evening should be a crime. It’s no wonder you’re slightly grumpy when you finally walk outside, waving goodbye to the optometrist.

At least she’s chill. She could be an asshole, but she got the team donuts today, and she even bought you lunch when you admitted you didn’t bring anything.

You walk to your car - the one you share with Taehyung - and you pull your phone out of your purse as you do so, eyes skimming over all the texts you’ve received.

You’re going out tonight, to a bar that Yoongi chose for its relatively chill ambiance, and you’re excited for it. Yoongi’s been MIA since you all hung out at his apartment, so you hope it’ll cheer him up, and you hope it’ll also help with pushing Jungkook out of your thoughts.

Not that you mind thinking about him - sometimes you believe him to be the president of the land of your mind. But he’s been texting you less and less every day, and you haven’t facetimed yesterday despite him saying he’d try.

You’ve been trying not to make a big deal out of it, but something about it feels off somehow. You reckon you’re probably just imagining things where none are, afraid as you are of the fragility of the relationship. 

But then again you’ve always trusted your gut feeling, and it’s never really failed you before.

You sigh, trying to ignore the foul taste in your mouth so that you can read the texts on your screen instead. Ria’s the one that texted you most recently, saying,

[6:46 pm] Ria: can we get ready at yours?  [6:47 pm] Ria: tho my mom’s happy I moved back in for the summer, she doesn’t want me to invite people over [7:06 pm] You: sure, heading home now

You reach your car, opening the door and throwing your purse on the passenger seat. A second later you’re sliding in, and you turn the keys in the engine. The car purrs to life, and soon enough, you’re on your way home, listening to the music on the radio.

Your mood brightens slightly when you reach home and see that there’s a spot on the street right in front of your apartment. You immediately grab it, even though you suck at parallel parking and it takes you three tries, and then you’re jumping out of the car, climbing the stairs to unlock the door.

You manage to take a shower before Ria shows up, a sour look on her features. You cock an eyebrow, letting her in. She breezes past you, not saying anything, and that more than anything else tells you that something’s wrong.

“What’s up?” you say as you carefully shut the door behind her.

She sighs loudly, extravagantly. “Jin isn’t coming tonight.”

You widen your gaze. “Oh?”

“He said he’s tired from work,” Ria says, and she folds her arms on his chest. “He sucks.”

You snort. “Why are you so worked up?”

“Because I know he’s lying!” She takes off her leather jacket, putting it away in the closet, and then she kicks off her shoes to strut into the kitchen. “Can I grab a glass of water?”

“Sure,” you say as you follow behind her. “Why do you think he’s lying?”

“He’s going on a date and doesn’t want to come to the bar after,” she admits, and the frown on her face tells you everything there is to know.

She is jealous, but she’ll never dare admit it. She’s way too proud for that, and though sometimes you know it protects her, you feel like it can be her demise all the same.

“Oof,” you only let out.

“Right?” She chugs the glass of water, putting it away in the sink. She leans back against the counter, folding her arms on her chest. “He’s just got out of a relationship, why would he get in another one?”

“I mean…” you trail off, shrugging. “Isn’t that what Namjoon did with Nabi?”

“That’s not the same,” Ria insists, shaking her head. 

It is, as a matter of fact, the same, but you refrain from saying so.

“He doesn’t even know the girl, she’s a blind date that his colleague is forcing him to go on,” Ria adds. “Why would he want to go?”

“Well…” you let out. “Maybe he just wants to throw himself out there again.”

Ria doesn’t like you saying that, and she offers you a scalding look that makes you snort again.

“You’re so mad,” you tease her.

“I’m not!”

“Do you like him?”

She makes a disgusted face, shaking her head. “No, of course not.”

“Then why does it matter if he’s going on a date?”

The answering silence is telling enough, and Ria clenches her jaw once, before pouring herself another glass of water. “I hate when you make sense.”

“Love you too,” you answer, and you walk to her as she’s got her back turned to you. You hug her from behind, saying, “We’ll have fun tonight, I promise.”

And you don’t know who you’re trying to convince. You or Ria. Because the dreadful feeling that sits in the pit of your stomach only intensifies as you get ready, putting your makeup on in the bathroom while Ria curls her hair with your curling iron.

You’re almost done, about to put your setting powder on when the music stops, and the unmistakable sound of the Facetime ringing fills the room. Your heart jumps to your throat, and you quickly put your brush down, grabbing your phone.

“Damn, who’s calling you?” Ria teases your reaction.

You frown as you see Taehyung’s picture from your contacts - you’d expected Jungkook. 

You pick up, and it takes a few seconds before it connects. Taehyung’s smiling face comes into view, and it takes you half a heartbeat to figure out he’s drunk.

Jimin is laughing in the background, and you hear Sera scolding him, though all you can see is Taehyung, and you think the shoulder beside him might belong to Ariane.

“Sis,” Taehyung greets you. “Not ignoring me anymore?”

“Hello!” Ariane says, and she comes into view, resting her head on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Hi?” you answer, and Ria chimes in with a far more enthusiastic “Hello!”

“Y/n!” Jimin says in the background.

Taehyung turns his phone just enough for you to see Jimin, who’s waving like a madman.

They’re all drunk. That much is clear. What’s clearer is the absence of a certain Jeon Jungkook in the group, and you can’t help but wonder what he’s up to.

He hasn’t texted you since this morning after all.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“Just thought I’d check in with you,” Taehyung says, his speech slurred. “Anything fun planned tonight?”

“Going out with some friends,” you answer. “Nothing extravagant. What are you guys up to? Isn’t it crazy late in Paris?”

Taehyung frowns, focusing on something. “Just two am, not too bad.”

Right.

“What are you doing?” you ask, and you sit on the closed toilet, glancing once at Ria who seems fully focused on doing her hair.

“We’re just chilling while Jungkook finishes up with Gaby,” Taehyung says. “They fucking stole the bedroom.”

Ria’s head snaps towards you, as time slows and slows and slows, coming to a halt long enough for you to say, “What?”

“Yeah, you’ll never imagine,” Taehyung says. “Ari’s best friend here is JK’s ex from high school. She’s French but she grew up in New York.”

Chronology is interrupted - you think there might be a hiccup in the line of time. But then it starts again, far too quickly, and your blood fills with adrenaline, your heart picking up in your chest.

“Who?” you let out, sounding infinitely stupid.

But then again, maybe you’ve been a fool all along, since that very first kiss he’d claimed to be a fake Valentine’s Day kiss.

“Gaby,” Taehyung repeats. “Gabrielle. She’s pretty chill.”

Your heart aches in your chest. It burns like someone threw acid on it, and you feel it shrivel behind your ribs, slowly turning to dust.

“Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, and you wonder if you imagine the knowing look that passes on his face.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, but you can’t breathe anymore.

It’s like there’s no more oxygen in the room, and you’re choking on the nitrogen, your mind spinning.

Taehyung gets up, and then everything is truly spinning. You think you hear Sera saying something that sounds like ‘Come on’, but then again you might be deaf.

All you hear is that sentence Taehyung said - We’re just chilling while Jungkook finishes up with Gaby.

When you were younger, you’d always believed your heart to be invincible. You’d felt invincible, like maybe you were meant to conquer all mountains. 

Tonight, you realize you’ve never been invincible - you just never cared enough about anything to thoroughly break, your heart shred beyond recognition.

Taehyung is walking somewhere. He laughs on the way, and Jimin is close behind, as you can see his head peeking over your brother’s shoulder.

“Don’t open the door,” Jimin says.

Taehyung snorts, and it’s like he forgot you’re right there. Or maybe he’s enjoying this.

Maybe he’s known about Jungkook all along, and this is his own twisted way to kill the relationship before it really starts. 

Your reckon, you deserve it. For all the lies, for the truth hidden, you deserve it. But then again, isn’t Jungkook the true responsible of the neverending breaking in your chest? Because it’s breaking - like a glass dropped, your heart is shattering. 

Perhaps chasing cars around Jungkook’s head was only ever leading to an inevitable crash.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung singsongs, and then you hear a door being opened, and the camera flips.

You don’t even know why you’re still looking. You know exactly what’s going to be under your eyes - what is under your eyes - but you can’t stop watching. Can’t really see it either, blurry as it is behind the tears pooling in your gaze.

I promise I’ll come back to you and make it work

He was never going to come back, wasn’t he? He was bound to be left in the past - you should have known when you’d kissed him by the door. Should have known to take the time to commit his features to memory.

Your vision clears, and the scene comes in focus. He’s dressed. He’s fully clothed, and so is she - you don’t even know if it’s a relief. Because they’re clearly kissing, and you think maybe he’s ripped your heart from your chest.

He was lying to you. He was lying to you through it all, wasn’t he? You should have listened to everyone, should have run while you still could.

You’re crying. You only realize you’re crying when Ria steals your phone from your hands, quickly hanging up the call. 

“Y/n,” she gently says, and she kneels in front of you, wiping the tears on your cheeks. “Y/n.”

“Holy shit,” is all you’re able to say before you break into sobs, shaking from the ferocity of the heartbreak. 

Your heart, now shards of glass, pricks your skin, pricks your soul. Everything hurts - you burn and drown, you freeze and blaze. You can’t breathe around the sobs, choking on them as they rock through you, yet you can’t stop them.

And as you break, you see him on Valentine’s Day. You see his sparkling eyes, his gentle gaze. See his lips right before he’d kissed you, so gentle like he’d been afraid to break you. You see him in New York, see him as he’d fucked you like you were in the clouds. You see him every day since then - you’d been so convinced of the reciprocity of the feelings that you’d forgotten who you were dealing with.

You think perhaps you’d truly just been the little sister, a fantasy he had to check on his bullet list of things to do in his life. And perhaps he’d been afraid of breaking you, of the inevitable consequences on him.

“He fucking lied to me,” is the first thing you manage to say through the breaking.

Ria pulls you in, and you fall on the floor, where she holds you as you cry. 

“He fucking lied.”

She strokes your hair. “I’m sorry.”

And it hits you then - Jungkook never really said he had feelings for you. It’d just been an act - the grandest act of his life, perhaps. And you’d been foolish enough to fall, to fall and fall and think he’d catch you. You’d thought you were diving in sweet waters, yet tonight you crash on concrete, the Earth’s gravity destroying you until you’re just a memory, meant to be carried away on a wind of heartbreak.

Ria stays with you until you fall asleep in your bed, your makeup ruined by your tears.

Your heart ruined by Jeon Jungkook.

Prev | Chapter 11.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

.................. i am deeply sorry. please don't hate me for this one, and feel free to scream at me too :') (i promise everything will make sense one day)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[rileyslibrary]

(Can i just say i love ur work, i too read them like bedtime stories, u perform a great service to humanity my good comrade)

Also, could i request perhaps Reader needing to go undercover for a mission and getting a bit too close for comfort with some baddies and thus making Ghost worry? He’s certainly not jealous by any means tho, of course not! Nope. Not jealous at all. Not even a smidge.

He is tho. He’s jealous. In his own Ghost way.

Thank you for your kind words, nonny and sorry for being so late!

Reader is an undercover tourist in Paris for this one. No warnings, other than a pretty sulky Ghost. More A/N at the end.)

———————————————————————

He hasn’t uttered a word since you returned to your temporary base. No “good job,” no “well done,” no “thank you for risking your life for the team.” Nothing. He didn’t even stick around for the debriefing. Instead, he stashed his gear in his locker and headed straight to the kitchen.

Usually, after a high-stress operation, Ghost would go to the kitchen to make some tea. Yet, the way he went about his business today seemed more like he was about to sharpen his knives than brew himself a ‘cuppa’.

There is a reason he’s upset, though, and you know it. While you are always prepared to risk your life for the team, your latest actions were pretty... out of character, so to speak, and Ghost took notice of that.

You stare at the closed kitchen door, wondering what’s unfolding behind it, how he feels, and whether he can communicate it without lashing out.

“Maybe it’s best to give him some space,” Price advises, narrowing his eyes. “You did a pretty risky thing back there; no reason to push your luck.”

“A whole kitchen’s worth of space, Captain?” you retort. “I’ll evacuate if things take a turn for the worse.”

“Call for backup if you can’t handle it,” he winks at you. “And don’t tell him I did that,” he says, pointing at his closed eye.

You smile at him, and push open the kitchen door. Ghost sits at the table, his back turned towards you, hunched over a cup of tea. He has his balaclava draped over his right thigh and his gloves on the table.

“Your hair is a mess.” You tease.

You reach to fix the stray hairs hanging over his forehead, but he pulls away from your touch. You lower your hand and go for the kettle instead. This will be much more difficult, you think to yourself.

“Coffee?” You offer. Although you know he’d refuse, you feel it’s a good way to break the ice.

Yet he doesn’t reply. Instead, he reclines on his chair and stirs the tea with a metal spoon. With your back turned to him, you pour the preheated water into your cup, add coffee granules, and cool it down with a gentle blow. The clinking of the metal spoon against the ceramic mug continues until it suddenly stops.

“Are you alright, mademoiselle?” He mocks, with a fake—and quite terrible—French accent, mimicking the enemy guard who “rescued” you when you dramatically pretended to twist your ankle in front of him.

A chuckle escapes you, and you turn to face him, leaning against the kitchen counter. He keeps his gaze fixed on his cup.

“I had to buy some time for Soap and Gaz, Lieutenant,” you explain. “They were inside that safehouse, gathering-”

“Intel,” he interjects. “I was there too; no need to rehash it.”

“The guards were dangerously close, sir,” you press on. “There was no time.”

He shakes his head. “No time doesn’t mean dropping to your hands and knees like a coquette, bawling your eyes out, waiting for a French knight in shining armour to come and save you now, does it?” he spats.

You raise an eyebrow. ‘Coquette’? You? He knows damn well the fall was staged, the tears were fabricated, the vulnerability was an act. The fall did hurt; otherwise, it wouldn’t have been believable. But shedding tears over twisting your ankle? No way. You’ve endured bullet wounds in the past, for heaven’s sake, and barely flinched. Ghost knows that. Yet, he looks more…

“Jealous, Lt.?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” He murmurs, scratching his forehead.

“Say what you want,” You shrug. “But you must admit: it was a pretty convincing fall.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Nothing says more ‘convincing’ like kissing the cobblestones of Paris.”

“Alright,” you say, leaving your cup on the kitchen counter. You cross your arms in front of your chest and nod upwards. “What would you have done, then?”

“Shoot him,” he responds, his black-painted eyes shifting from the cup to you. “That’s why I was up on the rooftop, remember?”

“What’s the point of going undercover if you’d eliminate the threat like that?” You persist. “And in a public place like that? Come on, Lt.!”

He pushes his cup to the side, places his hands on the kitchen table and stands up.

“Have you ever thought of what would have happened if your cover was blown?” He asks, raising his voice. “How was I supposed to protect you if you were right in front of my bloody target?”

You keep staring at him, his last words replaying in your mind.

How was I supposed to protect you…

You look at your mug on the counter; the steam from the coffee is almost gone. It must have been transferred onto him instead, you think to yourself. Might as well let him blow it off. Let him vent.

“I know how to protect myself, Ghost.”

He sits back on his chair and brings his tea closer, shaking his head.

“You should’ve waited for the signal.” He says. “We’ve got a plan for a reason.”

“I understand, s-”

“Falling in front of the enemy, letting him scoop you up like a fucking princess in agony, removing your shoe, fetching you ice from the coffee shop wasn’t part of the plan.”

A smile threatens to escape your lips, but you suppress it. You turn your back to him and pretend to clean the counter. There’s no reason to anger him more.

“Sir,” you begin. “What is the problem here: me not following orders or letting the guard run to my aid?”

“I don’t care about that French prick touching your ankle.” He murmurs.

Well, seems that ‘French prick’ touching you bothered him as much as you not following the plan. You stop fake-wiping the counter, grab your mug and turn towards him.

“I apologise, sir,” you say. “It won’t happen again. But you could have voiced your concerns in a less... abrasive way.”

“Wasn’t the pavement abrasive enough?” He snaps. “What’s next? Are you going to cry over it?”

You click your tongue and approach the table, extending your hand for a handshake.

“Alright, enough,” you say. “Let’s make a truce and end this right now.”

He remains still, looking at you. He finally reaches for your hand, but instead of shaking it, he twists it so your palm faces down. With a smirk, he stands up, brings it to his mouth, and kisses it.

“Isn’t that how that fucker would have done it?” he asks, still smiling.

You roll your eyes. At least his anger has died down and you’re left with his—typical—snarky self. You pull a chair across from him.

“Mind if I sit?” You ask.

“Normally, I’d tell you to ‘hit the bricks’,” He murmurs, motioning for you to take your place. “But you’ve already done that.”

———————————————————————

A/N: I keep confusing “ankle” with “uncle”. You twist your ankle, not your uncle ffs.

[dancingdonatello]

Hello, could you write a headcanon about Leo de Rottmnt on how he would react when he realizes he is in love with a human?

rise leo x gn reader

How many blind dates had he been on? Too many to count. He’d even agreed to be set up with Sunita’s cousin, who was the same sort of goop yokai except she was blue.

Every yokai he went out with, he always ended up ghosting them. Ignoring their messages, pretending not to know them when they ran into each other in the Hidden City. No matter how exasperated April and Sunita got, he just never felt right with any of them.

They all just seemed the same to him and he hated having to do small talk over and over again to just end up ignoring them a few hours after. It was a waste of time at this point. He should just pull a Donnie and write his age, favorite color, and hobbies down on a notecard and hand it off to the next yokai he went out with.

Not even at the bars or clubs he had followed Raph into had he spotted anyone. He always ended up slipping away into the crowd when everyone approached him.

His family was getting sick of him acting antisocial and then complaining about not having anyone. Hell, even Donnie was sneaking out at night, probably to meet someone.

The only one who ever listened to him without complaining was you now. Not that he could complain all the time, you were always busy and with your new… friends. He rolled his eyes at the thought of them.

You were always off with your completely 100% normal and human friend group, leaving him, his brothers, and April behind most of the time. April was always welcome but not them for obvious reasons.

You used to be at the lair everyday. Leo would share his comics. He’d teach you to skate. He’d throw popcorn at you when you ‘ooh’ed over a hot guy on love island. He barely saw you anymore. He’d portal into your room and it’d always be dark and empty.

And in every photo you had shown of your new friend group, there was always one bland looking dude right next to you. Always close, shoulders touching. Once you even giggled shyly when he mentioned it. It still made him mad just thinking about you going out with some shmuck that looked like every average guy walking around in the city.

He didn’t even look half as muscular as Leo. He didn’t have any of the flashy markings that glowed that Leo had. He couldn’t portal you to Paris or to the ancient pyramids. He didn’t even save the world. And yet you were probably more with him than with Leo.

Did you think of how Leo could effortlessly pick you up when that guy tried to do the same? Did he think of how Leo who could hold you up with one arm? Leo who could take you wherever you wanted?

At the very moment he was about to call you to find an excuse to complain about your guy friend, he finally realized what was actually doing on.

Of course he’d fall in love with someone he couldn’t have.

And it wasn’t like Leo could actually do everything with you like he tried to convince himself he could. You were a human and wanted to human things with human people. He couldn’t go into public with you. Kids would cry. Women would throw their purses at him. You’d be lonely with him.

So he didn’t call you. He’d let you hang out with your real friends and hopefully as you forgot about him, he’d be able to move on.

[savagewildnerness]

Let’s breakdown this scene…

Lestat, playing piano: bent over, lost in the world of the music - out of this world entirely. Louis sees a broken thing playing a plank of wood. A far cry from the proud, splendid creature he once knew.

(From Interview with the Vampire) "My eyes widened as I studied this stooped and shivering vampire whose rich blonde hair hung down in loose waves covering his face.”

Side note from me, as I love to talk about things that make The Vampire Chronicles appealing to me. Some people seem to be of the view that they wouldn’t desire immortality, only to be these sad, lonely, melancholic creatures… but I have always felt this way myself - even when I was a tiny child, long before I read The Vampire Chronicles. There has always been an innate loneliness and isolation to me deep inside. I don’t think you’d necessarily know it to meet me, mind! I am a smiley person! I like to do childlike, fun things. I try to bring happiness, not gloom to the world.

However, my instinct has always been to retreat into my own, wordless, unbound imagination, and to feel entirely alone, in truth. And still, I am. As a child, I felt more the weight of the world as if I were already 1000 years old. Now, loss of hope that comes with time is both sadder, scarier and, in its way, more freeing.

Anyway - imagine having infinite time and so being able to truly drift out of existence for decades. It’s such an appealing concept to me. I know Lestat is very sad here, but the idea of this kind of true escape… oh how I yearn for it. To let the world crumble around me. To step out of existence for some decades, with the possibility of return, not the reality as it is in mortal life that that is you falling through cracks you’ll never crawl out of ever again…

Lestat names Louis, reflexively when asked who said “hello”. He hasn’t turned to see Louis yet. To Lestat, Louis died 50 years ago. He is a ghost, surely? Lestat’s voice has a flat affect here. He isn’t thinking. He is merely reacting.

When Lestat first looks at Louis, I see fear:

- Does Louis really exist?

- What will Louis do?

- Must Lestat be drawn back into the world here? To acknowledge reality?

(From IWTV) “`I've dreamed of your coming . . . coming. . ' he said.”

Lestat asks Louis if he’d like a rat, as if he were a hallucination still, more than real-Louis. I think Lestat knows Louis is real when he speaks, but he’s still only half in reality himself.

Louis says “I’ve come to see you”, but Lestat is still half in his own constructed world with his music and Argerich… I love how Lestat hugs and caresses his plank-piano, drawing it into himself, as if drawing music in to himself. Me too, Lestat. Me too. I adore how Rolin and all added music to this scene. It isn’t there in the books. Of course it makes a through-line for rock star Lestat, but it is a deep love of Lestat’s and I am SO HAPPY with this addition!

I know a lot of people find “Siri, pause…” funny, but I must be a weird human, as I just find it oddly poignant. Like did people watch and laugh at this moment? This feels like when I go to see a play and people all laugh at something and I don’t laugh, then some other thing I laugh out loud at, but nobody else is laughing. And this is why I can’t do memes or any popular thing. SIGH. ANYWAY!!!

The way Lestat puts the keyboard up on front of himself, like a shield as Louis moves closer, his breathing growing ragged. Lestat genuinely scared… as though Louis’ mere presence might obliterate him if he gets too close. And of course, he does not know why Louis is there. Is he there to kill him? Does it matter if he is? He should kill him. He could too, right now. The emotional support piano becomes a protective plank.

But what Lestat is not expecting is Louis’ kindness, care, worry and empathy.

“Did you save my life in Paris?”

And now we get the first glimmer of the old Lestat as Lestat lifts his chin, shakes his head, tries to be nonchalant and to muster up his old pride, maintain any pride he still possesses. He immediately dismisses Louis’ niceness with a self-criticism as he truly perceives that he put Louis in danger by not protecting him from Armand. Responsibility in Nicolas’ death, and, he thinks, in Louis’.

Lestat is defensive. His unspoken mantra, “Don’t see me. Don’t see the real me, Louis. I cannot take it. Not right now.” Lestat is almost begging Louis to tell him he hates him, as he’s imagined Louis’ hate all these years… I fear halluci-Louis may not have been the kind, loving vision for Lestat that DreamStat was for Louis…?

A side note again: Lestat’s “All hail me” gave me a full-on spontaneous existential crisis. Folks, does Lestat say “All hail me” in the books? I hope not! Because for as long as I remember, in appropriate circumstances, I say “All hail me” and obviously it’s a turn of phrase, but I had a sudden heart stopping moment where, with a chill, I thought *Did I get that from Lestat?!* Am I entirely even my self at all?! Am I merely a manifestation of all the art I have ever consumed? Am… I… Armand!?!?!??!! Oh MY! I don’t think Lestat says this in the books though, right? Right!?!?

Well, Lestat puts his piano-plank down, terrified Louis might show him love. Craving it. Fearing it.

“Been enduring here?” Lestat is truly proud now. He will not admit his pain. As if not speaking it could make it invisible when it’s plain all about - from within him and without. It is *very* Lestat when questioned on the pain in his soul or shown that it has been seen to be like “I am FINE” & to think that’s how he comes across to others, when really of COURSE they see how broken he is. And then he bemoans that nobody will let him be broken, when he himself struggles to be broken other than when alone or on the page.

“I didn’t know it was a gift.” - Lestat is still wary. Still expecting hate from Louis here… unable yet to fully accept and understand…

Then Louis begins to say the only things Lestat has ever wanted to hear and know from Louis - thanking Lestat for the gift of vampiric immortality, showing he understands the beauty of it and intends to value that and use it… & Lestat is done for; broken open from here. He still, for a moment tries to fight back with “Shall we list all the ways we have wronged each other…” etc. But really, Lestat can now no longer maintain ay facade. Louis has opened him up.

And now we are open to Lestat’s thoughts for the last half-century. Armand erases Louis’ suicide attempt from his mind, but it is the first thing Lestat asks about. In his mind he has replayed for 5 decades how Louis is dead and it is his fault.

Sam and Jacob are so brilliant and beautiful as they open to each other in this scene. Claudia. Grief. Pain. Then, love. Broken-Lestat is particularly too much - holding on to responsibility over Claudia’s fate and how she looked at him at the end and he did nothing… and Louis, trying to take away and share the burden. Louis - so empathetic… and as they move through grief to love, words fall away (or become too personal to matter) and the storm outside echoes the storm of their hearts and their love.

(From IWTV) ““…And as I looked down at him, as I saw his yellow hair pressed against my coat, I had a vision of him from long ago, that tall, stately gentleman in the swirling black cape, with his head thrown back, his rich, flawless voice singing the lilting air of the opera from which we'd only just come, his walking stick tapping the cobblestones in time with the music, his large, sparkling eye catching the young woman who stood by, enrapt, so that a smile spread over his face as the song died on his lips; and for one moment, that one moment when his eye met hers, all evil seemed obliterated in that flush of pleasure, that passion for merely being alive.

" Was this the price of that involvement? A sensibility shocked by change, shrivelling from fear? I thought quietly of all the things I might say to him, how I might remind him that he was immortal, that nothing condemned him to this retreat save himself, and that he was surrounded with the unmistakable signs of inevitable death. But I did not say these things, and I knew that I would not.

" It seemed the silence of the room rushed back around us, like a dark sea…””

Bonus: misprint in my TVL copy!

(From TVL) “Louis had come finally to this very place and seen me through the windows. I tried to imagine it. Louis alive. Louis here, so close, and I had not even know it. I think I laughed a little. I couldn’t keep it clear in my mind that Louis wasn’t burnt up. But it was really wonderful that Louis still lived. It was wonderful that there existed still that handsome face, that poignant expression, that tender and faintly imploring voice. My beautiful Louis surviving, instead of dead and gone with Claudia and Nick.

But then maybe he was dead. Why should I believe Armand?”

[beautifulhigh]

The smallest of looks is the loudest moment in the room

Just a little one from me to save me from going insane and to sate my followers...

ZAHRA: How long has this been going on?

Alex is focused on Zahra, Henry is staring off into the middle distance until Alex answers her.

ALEX: Since New Year's.

And it's that Henry reacts to. Have a close up.

Henry's gaze flicks to Alex. In this exact moment (1 hour, 5 minutes, and 41 seconds), he looks at Alex for a few seconds.

This is the moment Alex has put a start date on this thing between them.

It's a little more certain here than it is in the book:

"How long has this been happening?" "Since, um, New Year's." (page 233)

The placement of that "um" holds meaning for me - in the book Alex is hesitating before he pins a start date on him and Henry. He's trying to figure it out and that's what he goes for. Because how long has it been going on? Since they started sharing intimate thoughts and fears? Since they increased the benefits they had added to their friendship? Since the Red Room?

Nope. Alex goes for the moment when the possibility between them changed and he completely ignores the weeks of silence that happened straight after. The period of time in which Henry was full of fear over what he'd done, what Alex might do. In the book we know he runs scared, going on a public date and being photographed.

If there was a prince, and he was gay, and he kissed someone, and maybe it mattered, that prince might have to run a little bit of interference. (page 125)

We don't have anything like that in the movie but we do have the silence. We see Henry's fear when he comes into the Red Room. Not just because of the line he crossed with Alex but because he has exposed himself and his most closely guarded secret, a glimpse of his true self.

He will know that Alex isn't going to out him - they've spent long enough talking and getting to know each other for that to not be Henry's fear. And if he was then it would have happened long before the State Dinner. Henry's fear is about losing Alex, losing the friendship, losing that connection with the boy he's wanted since the Olympics/Climate Conference.

I'd put money on Henry promising himself, once upon a time, that he would never do anything to risk losing what small pieces of Alex he could have in his life. And when they start up this thing he goes in thinking that this is all he can have, all he will get.

"I thought I could have some part of you, and just never say [I love you], and you'd never have to know, and one day you'd get tired of me and leave, because I'm--" (Page 272)

Henry didn't think he would have all of Alex, at least not anything of import, that Alex wouldn't be as far in as Henry is. And yet here he is in this hotel room, declaring they have been this thing since that kiss. Since before they properly made out in the Red Room, went down on each other in Alex's bedroom, talked about "keeping things casual" before embarking on the most insanely devoted shag fest known to mankind.

Alex has been in since New Year's and he tells Zahra just that.

In the movie he is more decisive. (Just like the instant "No" when Zahra asks if it would make a difference if she asked them to stop.)

Since New Year's. Since the moment Henry kissed me and I became unable to think about anything else except doing it again. And doing other stuff.

And even though Henry ghosted him right after, even though the next thing Henry said to Alex after his apology and disappearance into the night was another apology for his behaviour, Alex has labelled that moment, that kiss, as their start.

The moment when Henry was brave.

And in the movie we get to see Henry's reaction to that. They've been discovered, things are about to blow up in a way they can't control, and Alex says that as far as he's concerned this thing between them has been going on all year.

Before the emails. Before Paris. Before the State Dinner. Alex has been Henry's since New Year's and this is the moment he finds that out.

[midnightcrw]

hi if u don't mind could u pls write sth where simon and his wife wanna have a baby but the doctor says it may be risky for her to get pregnant so they kinda have an argument bc simon is reluctant due to the potential complications and he's afraid to lose her but she tries to reassure him that it's gonna be ok and says she's gonna be careful and make sure she's absolutely ready just sth angsty where he's worried about her😭💔

Pregnancy Risk

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: You and Simon want to have a baby, but it seems there might be complications...

a/n: I hope you all will like this. I was very unsure how to write it, but then I came up with this. I'm also on the train right now. I'm very excited because I've never been to Paris before.

It was silent in your living room as you and Simon were sitting on the couch.

The two of you hadn't spoken since the doctor's visit, almost too afraid to say a word.

The only sound that could be heard was the ticking of the clock, and it seemed to make you both more nervous with each passing second.

"Simon, I still want to try," you whispered as you looked up from the floor at your husband.

You had wanted a baby for so long, and you were willing to at least try.

After the words left your mouth, Simon was torn from his thoughts as he clenched his hands into fists, closed his eyes, and breathed out.

"I don't think we should. You heard what the doctor said," Simon's voice was clear and monotonous, not letting his actual emotions be heard.

"But we can still try. After all, the doctor only said that it might lead to complications," you looked him straight in the eye, wanting to show him that you were willing to try, even if it might lead to potential complications.

Simon's face grew stern as he processed what you had just said, and he slowly began to lose his patience, "No, we won't try. End of conversation."

With that, he got up and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

He was terrified, even though he didn't show it, he was scared and it felt like his throat was starting to close itself up.

Simon couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you, knowing that he could have prevented it.

He had lost too many people in his life and he wasn't ready to lose another.

But you didn't let up as you followed him into the kitchen, "Simon, please," you pleaded, your voice breaking in the middle of your sentence.

"I said no!" Simon shouted suddenly, making you flinch as you backed away from him, tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Simon cut you off before a single word could be heard, "We won't try for a child. I don't care if you beg or cry, but we're not having a baby!"

His words were harsh as he looked into your eyes, practically glaring at you, getting closer with each thing he said until he was right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him.

"You heard what the doctor said and I'm not going to let you do this," with that he walked away as tears ran down your face and you sobbed silently.

It wasn't easy for Simon either. He knew he was being harsh with you, but he wanted to get the point across, and he would rather have you hate him than actually try to have a baby that could result in your death.

Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours as it was now night. The only source of light was the moon shining through the window.

You were already lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling as you waited for Simon to finish brushing his teeth, wanting to talk to him about it again.

As you mindlessly let your eyes wander, you heard the sound of the door and Simon's footsteps. You looked at him as he made his way to his side of the bed.

It was quiet once again as Simon sat down with his back to you, removing his glasses from his face.

The glasses you had persuaded him to get and wear when the eye doctor said he needed prescription glasses.

When he put them in the box, he wasn't lying down yet. Simon's eyes were now focused on the moon, somehow afraid to lie down next to you.

He regretted yelling at you when you were in a vulnerable position. But he couldn't change it now, it had happened and Simon had to deal with it.

When you saw that Simon didn't lie down, you slowly sat up and thought about what to do, but then you just sighed.

Without making a sound, you wrapped your arms around Simon's broad chest from behind as you kissed his neck.

When he felt your touch, he tensed at first, but then slowly relaxed into your embrace as he felt your kiss.

Your hands drew small circles over his body as neither of you spoke for a while.

This time the silence didn't feel so tense, it almost seemed as if you both needed each other's presence now.

"I'm sorry for shouting and saying that to you," Simon's soft voice broke the silence as you hugged him a little tighter, letting him know that you were listening and that you forgave him.

It was the first time you had heard Simon's voice so defeated and broken. And it was obvious that the news from the doctor was not easy for him either.

"I'm scared," Simon admitted, his voice wavering as he uttered the word 'scared'. Your eyes widened a fraction when you heard that.

Ghost wasn't afraid, he never was. Ghost was the one who did what he wanted without fearing anything that lay in his wake, but Simon...

Simon was different.

Simon was fragile and vulnerable. Even though he had been through so much, he was still scared and afraid of every change that happened in his life.

These two were different and he wasn't even sure who he really was or which one of them was wrong, he just knew that he wanted you by his side no matter what happened.

"I'm more than scared," Simon let out a shaky breath as he continued, "I don't want to lose you.

I know the doctor said it's only a possibility, but there's also the possibility that you could die, even though I could have prevented it.

I don't want your blood on my hands.

I don't want your chest to stop moving when you take a breath.

I don't want your heart to stop beating.

I want you to live, and I'm terrified to hold your lifeless body in my arms," his voice wavered and broke with each sentence, but he had continued anyway.

And when he finished speaking, tears streamed down his face, not even trying to stop them as his hands trembled.

Hearing what he had just said made your own tears roll down your face. Slowly pulling your arms back, you sat down next to him on the edge of the bed, cupping his face in your hands as you moved his face to look at you.

Seeing his face made you so much more emotional as you kissed away his tears, letting your lips linger a moment longer on his forehead.

The feel of your lips on his skin made Simon's breath catch as he looked up at you when you were done peppering his face with kisses.

"I promise I'll be careful. We can go to the doctor regularly to make sure everything is okay. I won't leave you, I don't even want to think about ever leaving you behind," you whispered as you looked into his eyes.

Every word you said made Simon's heart beat faster as he was the one now, who leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

He let his mouth linger on yours for a second before pulling away to hug you tightly, wrapping you in his big arms as he stroked your back up and down, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

"Okay," he breathed out, closing his eyes and breathing in your scent, "we can try."

With that, he kissed your shoulder and whispered 'I love you' into your ear as you squeezed him tighter.

"I love you too."

[imshymorph]

Here’s soft!price, i’m sure you missed him or at least i did. Of course as soon as i say i’ll write and post about ghost i get ideas for everyone and their mother and write those instead.

I believe that sometimes, when John is away for a mission and struggles to fall asleep, he thinks back to moments in your relationship.

Like now, it had been at least an hour since he had left the rec room where the rest of the task force had been chatting after supper. He had gotten ready for bed and finally found a comfortable position. And yet here he was, still awake despite how tired he really felt.

And just like any other time he had the chance to, he let himself think of you. First he was thinking about how you'd probably be knocked out by now, for sure falling asleep while the two of you watched a movie on the couch and cuddled.

- - - - -

How he'd pause it so you wouldn't miss anything, pick you up carefully to not wake you and carry you to bed. Hold you close and pull the covers around you both before pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering a soft "i love you".

A little amused smile appeared on his lips when those three little words made him jump onto a different memory. One that you referred to as "the unofficial first i love you".

It had started when John received a call from the hospital, not giving the nurse the chance to say more than your name and at what desk he should ask to see you before he was fleeing base and coming to you (even if at that time you hadn’t been together for that long).

To this day you defend how overly dramatic he was, sure you had been in the ER, but it had been "just" because of a minor concussion. You had wanted to snack on some chocolate covered almonds while watching your show, but when you went to get them you had realised the little container had been pushed to the farthest part of the cupboard. Even in your tiptoes, your fingers only grazed the container, not getting enough of a grip to pull it forward.

Determined to have your snack you had gotten a step stool (which John had been happy to hear because he had worked really hard on getting rid of your dumb habit of climbing on the counter). What you hadn’t noticed was that the damned kitchen faucet had been leaking again. So when you got on it and leaned forward, the stool slid back, the movement making you bend forward and smack your head on the cupboard’s edge. After feeling dizzy you had called for a cab and gotten to the ER. And there you were, waiting for him to pick you up.

He had gotten leave for the first few days and kept to deskwork for a couple weeks after to make sure he was available were anything else to happen. He was glad he had done so, as the first week had mainly been you on bedrest with a killer headache, feeling dizzy nearly every time you sat up, almost nauseated whenever you had to walk to the bathroom.

He now was able to admit to himself without guilt that, despite how much he hated the circumstances (the faucet didn’t have the chance to be leaky again from then until you moved in together to the house you now share. And your step stools have grippy stickers on the feet) he loved the perfect excuse it gave him to baby you and hold you all day. Which had led to the memory that made him smile every time.

“John, I'm bored��� Talk to me about something.” You murmured, your head resting on the crook of his neck to shield your eyes from the light that managed to filter through the curtains. “Anything, really.”

“Hmm, let me think.” He murmured, his gruff and low voice surprisingly being of help with your headache, giving you something to focus on instead of the pain. “I actually thought about this last week… You haven’t been to France, have you? Maybe when you recover we could plan a weekend trip to Paris.”

He couldn’t help but smile when he heard you chuckle, although it withered a bit when a small pained whimper followed, the pair flaring at the effort. “I’m okay.” You reassured almost instantly, “I just hadn’t expected the topic to be France.”

A low chuckle left him as well, “well, you said I could talk about anything, love.” He justified it with a small self-pleased smile before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Need me to bring anything to help with the pain?”

“No, it’s fine.” You reassured softly, adjusting a bit in his arms. “Don’t change topics now, you were promising to take me on a trip.” you say lightheartedly, earning a small laugh from him. “I’m making a big effort here to recover, I better get something good after.”

He chuckled again, one hand moving to rub your back, making you smile against his neck. “Making the effort for me or for the trip, doll?” He teased, but he froze when your answer came, his heart beating faster than he could admit and the warmth on his cheeks luckily hidden by his beard.

“For you, of course.” It had been so simple, and yet he had to stare at the ceiling for a full minute to recover from it, feeling like his heart could jump out of his chest at any moment. And before he could realise, he had gently held your chin and pulled back a bit to look you in the eye.

“I hope you don’t tease me for the rest of our lives for saying this now, but… I love you, I love you so much.” His words had left in a soft murmur, his eyes matching your widening ones as you both processed the moment.

A small shaky breath left you and despite your prominent headache you lunged forward, pressing your lips to his in what he still considered one of the best kisses he had ever received (the list was pretty long but all of them classified after the one on your wedding). “I love you too.” you had said softly as you pulled back, just to immediately slap his shoulder. “But why tell me now, you twat. I’m stuck in bed, we can’t do anything cute like a date night.”

It had caused him to chuckle then and it did now as he adjusted his pillow and pulled the covers a little higher. The official version according to you was a month later, when you both had snuck away for a weekend to the Paris trip he had promised. You had planned an incredibly cliché day out but pretty much none of it had worked out when a storm had drenched the whole city. Somehow you had found yourself taking cover in a quaint and cosy jazz club where you had spent all night chatting away in a small booth.

He could still remember the adoring look in your eyes when he had turned back to you after ordering new drinks for you both. And when you had leaned in and said those three little words, he had known he had been right to say it a month before. His heart soaring and his whole body thrumming in delight when he whispered it back before kissing you.

With a soft smile and a quiet murmur of I love you, John passed his thumb over the wedding band that hung around his neck along with his dog tags before finally falling asleep.

[avensthetic]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (max feat. huh yun-jin of le sserafim)

let's get married in vegas we don't need guest list i don't wanna think too much let's get matching tattoos i don't wanna think it through baby, I'm so stupid in love book a flight to paris only one way what'd you think about sharing our last name? let's get straight to "i do" i don't wanna think it through baby, I'm so stupid in love

𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙎 𝙏𝙍𝙐𝙇𝙔

aventurine stood at the doorway, the gloom that hung over him highlighted by the moonlight. his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were clouded with exhaustion, his body slumped with a weariness that went beyond the physical.

the moment he staggered through the familiar doorway, every fiber of your being screamed his name. but the words died in your throat, replaced by a gasp as he collapsed into your arms. his grip was so tight, almost frantic, like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. for one terrifying moment, you feared you held nothing more than the ghost of the man you loved.

"aventurine," you finally choked out, your voice shaky, "are you okay?"

he made a choked sound that might have been a laugh, but his eyes - usually bright with mischief - held only shadows. "depends. are you going to yell at me?"

anger sparked, bright and hot, but blanked just as quickly under a surge of worry. "are you injured? can i get you something?" you rattled off, tracing the wrinkle of his furrowed brow, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

he shook his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his next words were barely a whisper, laced with a familiar vulnerability. "just... hold me for a little while."

you did, sinking to the floor with him, wrapping yourself around his trembling frame. his familiar scent, mixed with sweat and blood, was a harsh reminder of the ordeal he'd endured. he had always shielded you from his true battles, from the real risks he took. now, those risks were undeniable, bleeding out of his usual bravado.

minutes stretched into eternity. you didn't speak, simply held him. gradually, the tension in his body began to ease, replaced by an exhaustion that made him lean all his weight on you. it was then you noticed the subtle tremble in his breathing, the way he kept one hand tucked deliberately behind his back. he always did this when putting up a front, in front of his opponents, sat in front of mountains of chips, cards stacked high, risks in every bet.

high risk, high return. all in. the phrases he always mutter under his breath once irked you. with no regards to his life, it made you fear that he'd one day leave you, that he'd just vanish. masking his fears with his left hand clutched tightly behind his back, aventurine lived life on the edge, unable to put his trust in his luck, much less believe in himself.

"aventurine," you murmured, gently pulling back, "your other hand..."

he stiffened, the usual cockiness abruptly gone. before he could evade your gaze, you captured his wrist, tugging his hand into view. his fingers were clenched - tightly, painfully so. you carefully pried them open, gasping softly at the sight of the simple silver ring nestled in his palm.

"what...?" your voice faltered, a mixture of confusion, joy, and a flicker of hurt. you'd waited so long, endured so much uncertainty, radio silence broken only by his haunting absence.

"marry me," he blurted out, the words raw and unfamiliar. clutched tight within his fist was the simple ring, simple and lacking the usual shallow glamor of diamonds, a silent offering of everything he couldn't yet put into words. "it's another gamble at life, i know," he added, the cocky smirk returning, a fragile shield against the vulnerability he'd just revealed. "but the odds of you saying yes seem pretty damn good..."

"idiot," you said softly, tracing the outline of his trembling fist, "would it kill you to ask me normally?"

mistaking your words for anger and rejection, aventurine flinched. he had pondered over it for a long time, thought of you when he watched you sleep peacefully, and even when he was out facing death. and he realized then while in penacony, that if there was something he can't leave nor let go, it's you. "i...i mean it. marry me, i swear i'm serious. don't let me go, don't leave, i swear i'll-"

"silly," you hushed, a finger on his lips. "don't hide your hand. this isn't one of your big bets, not one where you'd lose, because my answer to you will always be yes."

relief washed over his face, so intense it made your heart ache. his eyes, when he met yours, brimmed with unspoken emotion. he leaned forward, burying his face in your hair.

"i went somewhere so far, somewhere so dark... i nearly didn't make it back," he confessed, voice rough with emotion. you shivered at his tone, the bleak despair etched into his words.

"you came back," you whispered, cupping his face and tilting his chin up. "that's all that matters."

he kissed you then, with a desperation that stole your breath away. it wasn't the soft, playful kisses you were used to. this was raw, desperate, filled with a hunger that took your breath away. his hands sought purchase in your hair, against your skin, as if seeking reassurance you were real, that this wasn't some dream conjured by a lonely, weary mind.

you responded with the same pent-up intensity, fingers tightening in his shirt, needing that tangible proof he was back, he was safe. there'd be time for questions later. for now, just the heady scent of him, the rasp of his breath against your skin, it was enough.

breaking away, he leaned his forehead against yours. "penacony was...." he faltered, the usual confidence in his voice cracking. "you, this..." his gaze swept over you, over the safe haven of his penthouse that you made a home for him to return to, "you kept me going. the thought of you, i held onto it like a lifeline."

tears welled up in your eyes. so many nights spent staring at your ceiling, the deafening silence with his absence driving you insane. you brushed his unruly hair away from his brow, his warmth a reassuring presence.

"i love you kakavasha," you said, the words thick with emotion, "and i'm so, so glad you're home."

he closed his eyes, a kiss pressed to each tear that fell down your face. "you deserve better than this," he murmured, voice barely a whisper.

"i deserve you." you were firm, leaving no room for argument. aventurine...kakavasha — your kakavasha, was many things - reckless, calculating, infuriatingly difficult at times. but he was yours. he's here, he's alive, and he had chosen you. right now, with a ring he slipped into your finger, this was more than enough.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐄𝐍𝐃

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 1

Ghost x Reader x Konig

(Neighbour!au and Roommate!au cause I can't get enough of them hehe)

Also like for this fic just don't mind how this would actually never happen in real life + don't think too much about the logic in this story. It's all purely fictional and for your entertainment :)

You want to go home.

Your apartment keys jingle as they hang from your fingers. Room 409. You sigh. It’s been a long day, to say the least. All you want to do is to just relax and unwind like you would any other Friday with a glass of wine and that dumpster fire of a Netflix show that is ‘Emily in Paris’. You let out another long sigh waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby. At least Emily lives a much more exciting and drama-filled life than you did with your 9 to 5 job.

You stare at your feet, trying to find something to pass the time that seems to drag on for forever. Your feet are already killing you from your high heels that you’ve been wearing for over 9 hours. Usually, you would be home by 7 — it’s 11 — especially on a Friday. Laura, a close coworker of yours went on pregnancy leave, meaning you’re working more hours to cover her absence.

Your phone buzzes with a reminder from your calendar app — oh great, it’s already 12. ‘RENT PAYMENT DUE IN A WEEK.’ You haven’t found a roommate to occupy that extra bedroom in your apartment even after 2 months of your listing being put online. Granted, you should’ve started looking for a new roommate the moment your previous one told you they were moving out, but you were too busy for that! You tap your foot impatiently. How long does it take for an elevator to travel up 2 floors from the carpark to the lobby?

The elevator doors open with a ‘ding!’ and you’re met with the giant of a man that is this mysterious guy wearing all black. His brown hair and matching brown eyes make him dashing and the scars littering on his face adds on to his good looks somehow. “’s rude to stare, love.” His gruff voice snaps you out of it. “R-right, sorry.” To say he was intimidating was an understatement, but god was he good looking.

When you’re both in the elevator, the usual smell of the clean, bleached scent is replaced with the smell of cigarettes and an undertone of gunpowder? Whatever it is, you much prefer it over the smell of bleach you’ve been used to for months. The elevator ride is silent and you both get off the same floor to go our separate ways… except he was following you!

You get a little bit nervous as anyone would if a tall, maybe 190cm buff guy was following you a few steps behind. “What apartment you in?” You say with panic filling your body with each step. Oh god, you don’t wanna die yet! “410.” He responds. “Oh.” Well, that makes more sense.

“I’m your neighbor then! Nice to meet you.” You smile and introduce yourself. He hums in response. “Simon Riley.” He says, nodding at you in acknowledgement. You would like to chat with this guy more, but he doesn’t strike you as talkative, as if his short replies didn’t already tell you that.

You both turn the locks on your own apartment doors. “Next time, you should really run if you think you’re in danger.” He chuckles a little to himself. You turn to look at him in shock, only to find he’s already disappeared into his apartment. So he did know! Asshole. You shake your head and enter your own apartment.

After showering, you scroll your phone on Instagram mindlessly when a notification pops up on your phone. Oh my god, someone responded to your listing! You waste no time in responding to them, despite it being ass-o-clock. You arrange to meet up with them in the afternoon, and you head to sleep hoping whoever this guy is will be a good roommate for you.

When you wake up, you’re a little behind schedule. Scrap that, VERY behind schedule. You haven’t cleaned up the apartment and made it presentable to your possible roommate yet, and you’re gonna meet him in 20 minutes downstairs! You hurriedly stuff all the clothes you find lying around in the living room into your own bedroom and clean the kitchen counters — you know the drill.

As soon as you’re done arranging the last piece of furniture in the living room, you rush out of the door, bumping into that neighbor you met last night. You give him a quick, “Morning, Simon!” before rushing past him, not even giving him time to greet you back.

Somehow by the grace of god, you’re right on time to meet the guy. You agree to meet him at the café right across your apartment complex, and holy fuck. There’s no way this 2 meter guy is your roommate. You both stare at each other awkwardly before you decide to go up to him. “Konig?” I say, and he nods. Oh he is.

[xrag-dollx]

-What the AHS Evans- -------wear in bed-------

Tate:

• shirt of his favourite band and a messy pair of sleeping pants, you can expect them to be all gross and worn out

• he never ever cared abt cleaning the clothes at least once a week so he basically wears the same sleeping clothes like 365 days a year

• thinks bc he's a ghost nobody would ever care

• when he isn't around you, you exchange the clothes and make sure he's having new sleeping clothes bc the smell really annoys you when you're in bed with him

• is actually thankful that you're exchanging his clothes ❤

Kit:

• sleeps in pyjamas during wintertime but prefers to sleep in speedos and a top in summer

• exchanges his clothes at least every week but during summer like every 2nd day (bc u both are a hot mess during the night 😏)

• he mostly keeps track on having new clothes but when his week was too stressful he might forget about it

• so you carefully put his new clothes on his bedside and he always comes around you and thanks you with a kiss on your cheek ❤

Kyle (frankenkyle):

• is wearing the cutest pj's on earth

• like the ones which make u look like a dinosaur or a tiger

• could wear pj's 24/7

• you always need to remind him that he can't go out in his dinosaur pyjamas

• is crying for 15 mins

• you convince him to get a new pyjama if he gets out of his current one just to go out in his normal clothes

• when you see Kyle yawning or sneezing in his dinosaur pyjamas it literally makes your heart melt in cuteness

Jimmy:

• likes shorts and a top in summer and a pyjama in winter

• when he's getting drunk he falls asleep in his actual clothes bc yea why not

• normal clothes = most comfortable clothes

James:

• darn expensive silk pyjamas

• but in summer he'd prefer something like boxers and a top

• exchanges his sleeping clothes like every 2nd day bc he's a hoe for tidiness

• doesn't need to care abt changing the old clothes himself at all, Ms. Evers takes care of it (as for everything else)

Rory:

• loves to sleep naked (and loves to walk around naked at home bc why not)

• in wintertime he's pretty okay by wearing a shirt and some long sleeping pants

Kai:

• he's basic af so just a shirt and shorts (in summer probably shirtless)

• never really exchanges the sleeping clothes unless winter is doing it (bc she's a good lil sissy)

• has to care abt more important shit than sleeping clothes

• does he even sleep at all???

• I guess not, too busy on taking world domination

Mr. Gallant:

• is never underdressed, not even while sleeping

• prefers to sleep in fancy pyjamas bc he thinks when he sleeps without anything on he feels gross

• wears nothing else than Gucci and Versace pyjamas

• goes shopping like every weekend to get some new ones (bc his nana has the cash 💸)

Austin:

• could never go without his silk robes and pyjamas

• has a favourite store in paris so when he's on vacation he gets TONS of new ones

•basically lives off this shit

•they are like his 2nd skin

• likes to brag and shows it to EVERYONE

• when he's got a new writing idea he runs downstairs so his long robe is hovering dramatically over the stairs (thinks it looks freakin cool while doing this)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~《《《》》》~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @fear-is-truth @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @trueangel420 @lacucarachapisser @evanpeterspeter

[octopiys]

Okay I just saw someone’s Olympic x cod au (and it was so cool) so now I’m asking everyone what their Olympic x cod head canons are.

OOOO HI ANON

Okay this is actually really cool

First thought was that Soap and Gaz would be synchronized divers. (I love diving, I did it as a kid but couldn't afford to keep doing it) I think they're built properly to do it, and I think when they win their first gold they'd be over the moon, cheering and shaking each other desperately because they can't believe the news. Yes, they'd be on the same team, as Scotland is a part of the GB team.

I honestly feel like Ghost would do rings acrobatics (I think it's acrobatic gymnastics or artistic gymnastics?) He's got wide enough shoulders, and what he struggles in is his weight class and his height that work against him, but his muscles make up for it. (HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR ARMS AND BACKS??? WILD)

Price is a bit interesting. I'll say he coaches Ghost in rings, because that's what I think he'd do if he wasn't competing. He's also got ties with both the Russian team, and the US team, but one of the Russian coaches dropped the Olympics before Russia was no longer allowed to compete, and is frequently spotted on the sidelines near Coach Price. There were rumors in the early 2000s, when both John and Nikolai were competitors, that they would trade each other's team plans and secrets due to their.... ehem, close companionship.

Alternatively, I think Gaz could be on the cricket team. Idk he probably played it as a kid, and would just end up sword fighting his cousin with the bats, and he's not actually really sure how he got on the team, in all actuality, but he's one of the best by far.

Alternatively, Soap might do volleyball. He just seems like he'd play volleyball. Didn't even realize he qualified for the Olympics until he got back home and saw it on the news: "Local Glasgow teen qualifies for the 2024 Paris Olympics" followed by "Unable to reach for comment". He's in the Olympics quite a few times, one of the youngest qualifying volleyball players in Europe when he first started off.

Alternatively, Ghost might do archery, get famous for splitting his arrows twice in a row one game. He gets made fun of, afterwards, by a mohawked Scot on his team just a few years younger than him, who repeatedly calls him Merida. It... doesn't really help that the stadium fluorescents make his hair look more ginger than usual.

Price and Nikolai do shooting. I feel like Price will be that Turkey guy who gets famous for being wildly comfortable (minimal gear, short sleeve, and kind of bored) during his competition, along with his god-given boonie hat. He's won gold every year since 2004. Nikolai sticks to his own challenge, coming in at a close silver, and ended up taking a break after 2016, when an accident on the range was the likely culprit to the abrupt pause in his career. But, he's still spotted like a celebrity at every Olympic games..... is that a Team GB shirt he's wearing?

I feel like Alex would do rowing (men's single scull), and not be terrible at it. He's got one gold and two silvers, before community work he did overseas took his leg. He then keeps it up, if possible, and joins the paralympic rowing (para-rowing) team. He does significantly better in this category, and gets gold 3 paralympics in a row. He still does charity work in the middle east with his wife,

Farah, who either does fencing, or boxing. I can't decide. She would be incredibly powerful in fencing, deadly accurate, and makes Alex thank God that she doesn't have actual access to swords. Her rounds are extremely fast, but she's amazingly skilled, having been placed on the team when she was just fourteen.

Roach would do water polo, or maybe rings with Ghost. That's how they meet each other, and theres no malice in their relationship at all. The media loves it, especially after his wipeout in 2016 because there was an unforseen obstacle (bug) on his ring, thus giving him the nickname Roach.

Rodolfo would be a gymnast too, either pommel horse or parallel bars. He's one of the tallest competitors in that category, at a shocking 5'8 (173cm) and is beloved by every Olympic fan in Mexico. (his job is pommel horse. his job is parallel bar)

Alejandro would also do gymnastics, but he'd probably do pommel horse or the horizontal bar. He's known for his fiery attitude, once making world news for almost fucking up an American competitor from Texas when he made a few comments after Rodolfo suffered a bad case of the twisties two seasons ago.

Graves is a newer competitor, the same one from Texas. He's not as well known, been around since the last Olympics, but he's got an interesting floor routine that will earn him a gold this year. However, he doesn't place in the all around competition, just falling short of the Mexican team, and one guy from GB. Better luck next year, Phillip.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Dating (feat. Gun)

G/N. Requested. Fluff

"Who is this mysterious sexy man?" Goo chuckles, "It's ME!"

He thrusts the trashy tabloid in Gun's face. That ridiculous headline and Goo's mug plastered on the front page, arm around one of the most sought after K-Pop idols.

Mysterious? Sexy?

Gun peers at the photo and thinks that Goo looks like how he always does.

An idiot.

Lips stretched into an open mouthed grin. Eyes crinkled. Hideously garish suit. Stupid bleached hair.

Some of his meagre charm must be doing something though, because the idol's smile reflects his. A touch more sane, a lot more sincere, and very much besotted if the way they're looking at the blonde is anything to go by.

"They're boring though," Goo leans back, studies the idol's face that he is casually bedding and dismisses them.

One word, cutting and cruel: "Next."

.

.

"Either answer it, or turn it off."

"Nope!"

Gun glares at him. The phone continues to vibrate, buzzing noisily on the table.

It stops.

For now-

One..

Two...

Three...

And like clockwork-

It starts ringing again.

Just like it has done for the last ten minutes.

Fuck this. Gun grabs the device and hurls it onto the floor. It smashes with excessive force, a complete overkill, into the marble tiles.

The screen cracks, flashes, then dies.

"You're doing me a favour," Goo taps his long fingers against the table, unconcerned and disinterested, peering out the window, "They were getting clingy."

They being the supermodel that walked the Paris runway last week. Graced the front cover of the September Issue the week before.

It didn't matter.

His interest putters out like it always does. Goo is done with them.

.

.

"Ewwwww, tasteless!"

Gun catches a glimpse of a suit nestled in a gift box, logos of one of the most expensive and exclusive fashion houses adorn the tissue paper.

"Throw it away! Trash it!" Goo instructs and the HNH assistant scurries away.

"Ugh," The blonde pulls a face, as if the lingering presence of the ugly garment is still offending his delicate sensibilities.

Grabs his phone (new and top of the line) out of his pocket and makes a show of blocking someone.

He throws his arm around Gun's shoulder.

"You'd think a chaebol heir-" Stressing chaebol and heir with a smug waggle of the eyebrows, "-would have better taste. I can't be with someone with such awful style!"

Gun pushes him away, "I don't care. Shut up."

.

.

Goo has a new obsession.

Used to let his phone ring out. Used to ghost people for days, weeks, months, before reaching out again. (If he does reach out, that is.) Relish in playing mind games and gaslighting.

Now he picks up after the second ring. Murmurs, voice cooing and sickly sweet, into his phone.

Excuses himself "I have to take this," and walks out of meetings with Charles Choi and the HNH board.

Is unavailable on weekends and evenings. Snaps "I'm busy," when Gun offers the moneymaker a chance to make more money.

Then the new obsession turns into an ongoing obsession.

.

.

Your name flashes on Goo's phone screen.

Your name is one that Gun has, against his will, grown familiar with.

He has heard more than his fair share of your interests and hobbies. How great you are, how talented, how wonderful. The way your hair gleams in the light, how your eyes sparkle when you laugh. How you always beat Goo in games, "Y/N must be cheating!" he would screech.

And, according to Goo, has the most deliciously mean sense of humour. "You could never be as funny as Y/N." Goo sneers, as if it was a competition. As if Gun ever wanted to be seen as funny. Or to make Goo fucking Kim laugh.

Gun couldn't give a shit. Gun couldn't care less. But since when did Goo care what Gun thinks.

So Goo rambles, voice rushed and excited, telling him everything about you even when Gun tells him to shut the fuck up and tries to uppercut him on the jaw.

.

.

"You're getting too attached." Gun tells him one day. Not that Gun cares, but Goo Kim happy is insufferable.

He expects a glare, an insult. Eyes narrowed behind glasses and venom.

Goo's response surprises him. Gun never expected this.

A shrug and a lopsided smile. Goo is resigned to his fate. "Yeah," he agrees.

He knows he is too attached to you, and he has no intention of ever changing that.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

please give me fic recs where Derek is a big brother / dad figure to Issac with Sterek too, but without the pack calling Stiles mom, just pack feels or Derek found family feels.

I know these fics exists, they have to, I NEED THEM pretty please.

I think so!

Family Ties by Big_Hazard

(1/1 I 1,681 I General)

Isaac comes home from Paris and Derek makes a big change for both of their lives.

Brothers (a word so unfamiliar to Derek he probably couldn't spell it) by Nerdgoddess

(1/1 I 2,797 I General)

Derek Hale hasn't been a brother in a long time. He hasn't been a big brother for even longer. But slowly, with the help of the pack, he learns.

4 times in which Derek acts like a big brother + 1 time he gets treated like one.

The Barriers Within Yourself by Reinamy 

(1/1 I 2,977 I Teen)

It all comes down to Isaac messing up.

People Don't Regress into Babies, do they? by TylerM

(1/1 I 4,962 I General)

If there had ever been a time in Derek's life where he could have foreshadowed holding a crying baby on his hip as he tried to coo at him in a comforting manner while Peter uselessly laughed at him, he most definitely would have prevented it.

You see Derek has no idea how this happened. And by this, he means Isaac somehow magically turning into a toddler.

Repeat, a toddler.

- Or the one where Isaac magically gets turned into a baby and Derek has to look after him.

Can’t Walk Around With Open Wounds by BetoWrites

(5/5 I 8,075 I Mature)

It’s the holiday season, but Isaac isn’t in the mood to celebrate. Years after the Battle of the Nogistsune, he continues to be haunted by ghosts of a life he can barely recognize.

Upon his return to Beacon Hills, he discovers that — for better or for worse — he’s not the only one.

I Think Isaac Hale Sounds Nice by courtinator

(6/6 I 11,760 I General)

Derek sets out to begin the process of adopting Isaac, but it proves to be a little more difficult than he thought.

(to us) your ghost is born by stenoscope

(6/? I 14,169 I Teen)

“Shut up,” Boyd says easily, spearing a sausage on his fork. “It’d be a lot for anyone.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Isaac. We love you. Shut up.”

Isaac shuts up.

it begins with lies by sunmoontruth

(21/21 I 103,651 I Teen)

“We’re supposed to be the protectors of Beacon Hills,” Derek says. “You raised me to care about people, so that’s what I’m doing.”

Talia’s lips twitch a little, this soft frown that Derek hates to be the cause of. But he needs his mom to hear him, needs her to understand that they have the power to do something, and, therefore, they should. He needs her to understand that the abundance of caution has gone on for five years too long. He needs her to understand that the people of this town – this kid included – need someone to look out for them, and it should be this family.

Talia says, slowly, “I’ll check it out.”

—

Or the Hale fire never happens, the family fosters Isaac, and a war breaks out as a consequence

[dira333]

When I felt like I was an old cardigan - Kenma x Reader

thanks @missalienqueen for the character choice

Your head’s pounding, the sliver of sunlight peaking through the blinds too bright for your eyes. You press them closed again, sink further into the bed. 

What happened last night? What day is today? Where are you anyway?

You’ve always been a deep sleeper. The kind that forgets everything the minute your eyes close. 

So you’re not that surprised to find yourselves out of your depth at first.

But you quickly realize that this isn’t your bed. Your bedding is not that expensive and your mattress is not that soft.

Did you spend the night at a hotel? 

You curl further into the pillows, your memories still a little foggy but at least past you has shown some taste in finding a place to sleep.

“Good morning.” The voice is soft and gentle and you need a second to realize that it’s not in your head.

You turn your head. There’s a door not far from you, a man leaning against the frame.

You swallow thickly. Hotel rooms normally don’t come with handsome strangers.

Wait, you were on a tinder date last night. Could it be-?

“I usually don’t sleep with someone on the first date.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. 

“I know.” He says, dark hair falling into his eyes. Even from this distance you can tell that they are big and bright, cat-like and captivating. “You told me that last night, over and over.”

“And we still did-?” You can’t bring yourself to say it.

His eyes widen at your question. “No, no, nothing like that. Don’t you remember? You didn’t seem that drunk.”

You groan and rub your temples. “I have early morning dementia. I’ll need a cup of coffee to get my memories back.”

He chuckles softly, the sound rich and warm. It sends shivers down your spine.

“Follow me then.”

You follow him, the floor cool beneath your bare feet. You’re wearing an oversized shirt that’s definitely not yours over what appears to be your underwear. You wonder where the rest of your clothes ended up and whose shirt it might be. It can’t be his, he’s not that much taller or broader than you but the shirt hangs off you like a dress, generously covering your bare legs.

“What’s your name again?” You ask when he leads you into the kitchen. You’re normally pretty good with names and faces, but he’s not in any of your college classes, as far as you’re aware. And he’s got recognizable features, pretty eyes, and an interesting hair color, his long dark hair bleached at the ends, held up in the back in a messy bun that looks effortlessly pretty. You never get your hair to look like that.

“Kenma. Kenma Kozume. I know you from College.”

You blink. Could you have really missed him? With looks like that?

“I’m not in any of your classes.” He points out, his voice now quieter, his eyes moving across the kitchen as if looking for something to hold on to. “I just noticed you on campus, that’s all.”

“Oh.” You blink again. “That’s…” Your voice drowns in the noise of the coffee maker. Kenma seems uncomfortable with it too, flinching when the whirring gets a little too loud. 

Soon the distinct aroma of fresh coffee fills the room, waking your brain up a little more. Kenma puts the first cup in front of you, smiles apologetically, and restarts the machine.

You take tiny sips and close your eyes as your brain boots up like an outdated computer. 

-

You remember getting ready for your date, phone set up to film you as you twirl in your new red dress. 

“What do you think?” You ask and your best friend gives you a double thumbs up.

“You look so cute! He’s going to be head over heels for you!”

“I hope so. It’s my first time dating over an app, I have no idea how this works!”

“I hate that I can’t be there to stalk you. I’d sit behind a plant and spy on you and make sure he treats you well.”

“I know, I hate it too. But I can’t wait for you to come back from Paris to start dating. Are you still on with that Tendou Guy for tomorrow night?”

“He hasn’t ghosted me yet, so I’m hopeful. He sent a few memes over and he’s either had help or he’s the best kind of funny.”

“Aww, I hope it’s the last. Well, I have to go in a few minutes, so I’ll log off. I’ll send you updates through the night, okay?”

“Okay, have fun!”

…

“Have you decided yet?” The waitress is not much older than you. You wonder if you’d feel better or worse if she were older. She’s giving you a sympathetic smile and you know what she’s thinking. After all, you’ve been sitting at this table for two for over thirty minutes, clearly waiting on a date that’s not going to come.

“I… I’ll have a glass of wine.” You start, your voice a little shaky. “What entree would you suggest?”

There’s a business meeting on a table to your right and an older couple having dinner to your left. You’ve never felt so alone like you’re doing right now and even though you know it’s not your fault and that alcohol isn’t a solution for a problem like this, you can’t deny that the first glass makes you feel a little better.

The second glass makes you feel a little warmer too, something you welcome after wearing a dress that looks incredible on you but is nowhere near warm enough for a rainy night in early spring.

By the time the waitress hands you the dessert card you’re ready to order your third glass of wine. But just as you open your mouth, the chair that had been vacant ever since you came in, is pulled back.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” The man is pretty, tailored suit and bright, cat-like eyes, dark hair pulled back into a bun. “My meeting ran late.”

“I-what?” You eye him warily. He’s gorgeous, there’s no denying it, a 10 out of 10 whereas your date had been a solid six or maybe seven, at least that’s what you could tell from his pictures alone.

“You can leave the menu with me.” He turns to the waitress with a smile, taking the menu from her before taking a seat.

“I’m sorry.” He leans forward, whispering over the little candle burning in the middle of the table. “I noticed that you were eating alone and you seemed a little lost. I hope I’m not intruding, this isn’t… I normally don’t do stuff like this, but I’ve seen you around College before, so I thought… I’m Kenma, by the way. Kenma Kozume.”

“Oh…” Your voice comes out a little too loud and he blushes, lowers his head in a way that tells you more about him than his previous words had.

“What were you doing here? At the restaurant, I mean, when you saw me?”

“I was part of that business meeting. It went on for way too long but I couldn’t just get up and leave, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, sure. I mean, your boss would probably fire you, if you did. But he picked a nice restaurant for a meeting. The food here is good.”

“It is.” He smiles, just a slight quirk of his lips, but your heart responds as if he’d just confesse his love for you. He really is unfairly pretty.”

-

The coffee machine falls quiet again and you blink, refocus on the moment again.

“That was really nice of you.” You say, “To keep me company like that.”

“It was reckless, more likely. You were nice enough not to chase me away.”

“No, I had a good feeling about you.” You smile up at him, still standing next to the coffee machine. He seems so much easier to fluster now, at daybreak, than he was last night. Or maybe you’re just noticing it now that you have a steady gaze and a clear mind. 

“Who knows how much more wine I would have had without you.”

“You don’t handle your liquor well.” He points out, blushing as if realizing belatedly that that was rude.

Shame burns through you as you remember stumbling out of the restaurant as if your body had only registered all the alcohol the moment you’d stood up - late and all at once.

You must have looked a mess, and truthfully, you’d been one. 

You hadn’t even been able to remember your address, hanging off Kenma like a dead weight on the way to his car.

-

“I still owe you,” you remember, guilt coiling in your stomach. He’d paid for everything.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I can pay for my food. I mean, you let me sleep here too and the clothes-” You pick at the collar, a sudden realization flashing through you. “Your boyfriend will be horrified I slept in his clothes.”

“My boyfr-” Kenma stares at you, wide eyed, face paler than before. “What are you talking about?”

It’s a miracle he understands what you’re trying to say from the way you’re rambling now. You’ve lost sight of the point you were trying to make a while ago.

“I…” He’s glaring at the coffee machine now as if it had murdered his family or caused some other tragedy. “I’m not gay. I don’t have a boyfriend. Truth is I’ve noticed you. At College, like I said. I’m not that good at making friends but you seemed kind and interesting and… well, I didn't know how to approach you until I saw you at the restaurant. I couldn’t leave you there looking all pathetic.”

You snort. His eyes fly over, the sight of them - on you - making you breathless again. He really is unfairly pretty. 

“I don’t mind you making an ass of yourself. I’m as socially awkward as they come. I just…”

“Do you wanna get coffee together?” You ask. You know you’re getting ahead of yourself, but he’s cute and if you’re hangover brain isn’t reading everything wrong, he’s not against being friends with you.

Kenma blinks, holds up the coffee he made himself. It’s a question and an answer in itself.

You laugh.

“I mean a planned thing. Where I can dress up before and make sure I look presentable instead of looking like I’m trying to cosplay a Scarecrow.”

“You mean a date?” He asks, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Warmth bubbles in your chest. You lean your head to the side. “If you want it to be a date, it can be a date.”

He smiles, the motion lighting up his face. 

Your stomach flips a little at the sight and you wonder, really, just how you managed to turn a night around like that.

“Would it be terribly forward of me to ask you out right now?” Kenma asks. “I kinda like the Scarecrow Cosplay. Just don’t tell my best friend, I stole that shirt from him.”

…

Somewhere in Tokyo Kuroo sneezes loudly.

“Better take some Zinc,” he mutters to himself. “Don’t want to get sick.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[masterofthewarcry]

no, no you don't GET IT. okay - so he's only a little kid when his dad goes off to war and dies, right? he doesn't know his dad. all he knows is that his dad was a great warrior favored by athena, and that he has to avenge him (IMAGINE a little kid sitting by his mother's feet while she spins wool telling him he has to avenge his father some day, imagine it). so he grows up a little, following in his father's footsteps to become a great warrior, and then BAM he gets thrown into full blown WAR at fourteen. it's epigoni time people. he's the youngest there, this is the first time he's ever experienced real battle, and its in THEBES where his dad (who's ghost has been haunting him the whole time) DIED. anywhere he steps on the battlefield could be the very spot where his dad died. but he makes it through. they take the city, sack it, go home.

and that in itself is enough to make a man a legend, right? but almost as soon as he gets home, there's trouble in calydonia (where his grandfather is supposed to rule, but he gets usurped by an uncle or cousin or something). so he fucks off to calydonia to sort that out and ends up having to fight in ANOTHER huge battle to reinstate his grandfather as the king. but again, he pulls through, makes it out alive and goes home.

he gets married to aegialia, who's significantly older than him and who he doesn't know all that well just in time for adrastus (the king of argos and one of the original seven against thebes) to kick it. now, i'm not saying that adrastus was something of a father figure to him, but i think it makes sense narratively. so adrastus kicks it, and he inherits the city of argos, again being very young and not knowing much about ruling. he doesn't really get a chance to learn though because BAM it's trojan war time baby!!

so he gets together all the able-bodied argives (which is a LOT, like he's bringing a significant portion of the greek force) and they sail to aulis to meet up with the rest of the gang. sthenelus and euryalus (two of his buddies from the epigoni days) come with him - i like to think that they're like older brothers to him; sources he can look to for advice and support. ANYWAYS everybody gets to aulis, he goes to meet the rest of the kings and as soon as he introduces himself, everyone's talking about his father.

but its fine - even though he's proven himself to be a more capable warrior than his father was already. hes not here to cause a scene (no, they have achilles for that - but they dont have him yet so hold that thought), hes here to do a job. and do a job he will, because someone has to go fetch achilles from hiding! better send the young guy who MIGHT be able to hold his own against the strongest warrior in the world if he decides to fight back. and odysseus, of course.

they couldn't be more different, he and odysseus. odysseus is older, he's not been in a battle like this before, he has a son, he's generally regarded as a good king. whereas all he's ever known is war, he barely knows his own wife (DEFINITELY not enough to have a son), and he knows next to nothing about being a king. yet they hit it off. odysseus is charismatic and funny and he's ENRAPTURED by the way he talks about ithaca. he's never known anything like that. argos is home, sure, but ithaca is EVERYTHING to odysseus.

they collect achilles, with some trickery, and the real trojan war starts going. ILIAD TIME it's been nine years. he and odysseus are buddy buddy now (athena boys in business fr), achilles is on the fritz throwing a temper tantrum (NOT in a useful way on the battlefield). agamemnon is talking about giving up. menelaus ALMOST got paris's ass but aphrodite spirited him away. he and odysseus are holding this operation together. he's putting all this previous war experience to good use absolutely KILLING IT on the battlefield. he's going after aeneas, and then aphrodite, and then ARES the GOD OF WAR HIMSELF. achilles has NOTHING on him at this point. but the whole army is still praying for achilles return.

but it's fine - even though he's single handedly running the show at this point. he gets shot through the foot by paris and odysseus pulls it out because THEY WATCH EACH OTHERS BACKS, they look after each other. NIGHT RAID TIME, he and odysseus hit the town (and by hit the town i mean kill ~14 men under the cover of darkness and steal their horses), common athena boys W. they wash all the blood of themselves in the sea together afterwards, classic bro activities. he's feeding himself with odysseus's stories at this point because the way he talks about ithaca really does make it sound like something worth fighting for.

achilles comes back- OOPS, we thought it was achilles but its NOT its patroclus in his armor and now hes DEAD. achilles comes back for real, and now HECTOR is dead. who's that up on the walls of troy with a bow is that-? BAM, achilles dead, shot by paris. things are looking bleak and good at the same time. the palladium needs to be stolen so they can sack troy? easy money. NIGHT RAID PART 2, stealing the palladium time. easy money until odysseus decides to try and stab him in the back. he's devastated - his closest friend, caught up in the idea of having all the glory for himself. they've switched positions, now he is the one who wants nothing to do with this war, and odysseus is the glory-hungry king. heartbreaking.

TROJAN HORSE, the time is finally ripe to sack troy. everyone's behaving badly, people are getting raped on temple steps, it's a mess. odysseus throws a baby off the walls of troy. he's one of the only ones who doesn't get caught up in it because he's tired. he's tired of war and he wants to go home, even though argos is nothing like the home he's built in his head. there is no wife and son to return to. he knows nothing about being king. the rocky coasts of ithaca do not await him.

troy burns. the war is over, the ships are loaded with spoils, he sets sail for home. he arrives to find that sthenelus's SON, his BROTHER's SON has been fucking his wife and usurped his throne. and for a minute, it looks like he's about to go to war again, but he's tired. he's tired and it's his best friend's son, and it's a woman he never really got to know or care about and it's a throne he never asked for. so he just leaves. he takes his spoils, gets back on a boat and leaves. for ithaca.

he doesn't know how odysseus is going to react when he shows up. but, as it turns out, he didn't have to worry about that because odysseus isn't there. but penelope is. wise, patient penelope who listens to him talk about the war at troy and odysseus and how he's so tired. penelope who says, stay.

so he stays. and he waits for odysseus. and he learns things that aren't war. he learns what it feels like to carry a little boy on his shoulders. he learns what it feels like to have dirt under his nails and a sore back after a long day's work at the plow. he listens to penelope talk about odysseus, and shares his own stories too. he learns that he likes penelope, a lot.

enough that when the suitors start pouring in, he fends them off as best he can. he won't marry her - he won't do that to odysseus, but he will help her unravel the funeral shroud she's weaving each night. he will hold her while she cries for her husband who is likely dead at the bottom of the sea. he will start teaching telemachus his way around the blade when he asks.

and when odysseus does return home? he almost gets stabbed. odysseus is FURIOUS that someone he TRUSTED would come to court his wife, but that's not what happened at all, he's been protecting her the best he can. teaching his son to do the same. he's been waiting for odysseus with them. it's a teary reunion, of course, and then it's a bloodbath and then all the suitors are dead. he washes the blood out from underneath his nails for the last time.

see? do you see? it's about being HAUNTED by the legacy of a man you didn't even know, and it's about EXPECTATIONS and it's about figuring out what YOU want instead of what you're 'supposed' to want, and it's about GROWING past being a warrior and learning to be a PERSON, and it's about LOVING someone in a way that's beyond platonic or romantic. do you get it now? do you get it?