#ill try to start posting asks soon i swear on me mom

[lemonjoonah]

Wrapped Together (M)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Word Count: 18K Rating: M Genre: Christmas AU, Romance, Drama  Warnings: Protected sex, oral (m. rec.), referenced illness/death of parent, swearing, classism. Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, to self-preserve and endure what will no doubt be the worst Christmas of your life, you are still roped into volunteering for the hospital's annual gift wrap fundraiser. The enticing factor that lured you out? The promise of a new shift partner, Kim Namjoon. Though your first day together starts off with a slight miscalculation of his skills for wrapping, he soon becomes your essential ally in the fight to get through this lonely holiday season.

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

A/N: A big thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for asking me to join her Secret Santa Christmas Collab, this was my first collab ever and I absolutely loved it. And of course to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi​ and @ladyartemesia​ thank you for helping me gain the courage to post this. I hope that this fic is able to bring a bit of comfort to those celebrating the holidays a little differently this year, so please enjoy!

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Amidst the chatter of the office, a dull rumble reaches your ears and vibrates the desk beneath your fingers, waking you from the repetitive haze of your hundredth call report. The moment of confusion switches to frantic action when your brain finally catches on and recognizes it as your own personal phone. Scurrying through your purse, you nab it just in time, but after checking the caller ID you desperately wish you hadn’t. 

You knew this call was coming, you’ve dreaded it since you felt the first freezing snowflake on the tip of your nose, when you heard the first carol blaring over the radio, and saw the first tacky inflatable gracing a lawn on your street. It happens every year, like clockwork, though this will be the first time she’ll be enlisting one and not two. Unable to put off the dreaded moment any longer, you answer, accepting that if you rip the band-aid off now and decline her invitation to join the wrapping fundraiser, it’ll be one less uncomfortable moment later. 

“Aunt Emma, hey it’s been awhile.” She’s not exactly your aunt, but you’ve known her ever since you and your mother settled down here ten years ago. With little other family nearby she was one of the few you and your mom could always count on. Making your task to turn her down all the more difficult now.

“My dear, how are you holding up? I’m so sorry to do this but I'm calling with some rather unfortunate news.”

“Oh?” You exclaim, careful not to sound too hopeful that you might be free of your heavy burden.

“Yes, well it’s regarding the wrapping fundraiser. I wanted to put you on the same shifts as myself or Maria. I didn’t want to have you alone, since, well, you know... but there are so many rookie volunteers this year. And with you being part of the organization for so long, I was hoping you work with one of them instead for the evening shifts? It’ll just be you and him, do you think you could manage it?”

“I-I uh...” Now this is something you had not expected. You spent the past few weeks worrying about how you might have to work side by side with pitying glances, condolences, and referenced scripture from the usual staff. Any thoughts and prayers for your loss would likely turn you into a pool of tears. Not something you want to happen in public, or private for that matter, but if you are partnered with a newcomer, one who knows nothing of your past, maybe... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “I can do that.”

“I knew you could! I’ll put you down for the weekday evenings from the seventh up to Christmas. You’re off work at four, right? I’ll send you more details later, but do you want me to be there to introduce you to the other volunteer?”

“No!” You blurt out, insisting in a volume far louder than necessary, but you can’t risk her acting on the offer. Introductions when done by Emma are dicey at best, with one solid breath she has the capacity to share every bit of your sad history, leaving you exactly where you’d rather not be. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. No need to put yourself out like that, you can just tell me their name now and save yourself the trip.” 

“Thank you dear, always so considerate. One second let me just grab that for you...” She pauses on the phone line, as you look around your office in worry, not wanting to get in trouble for taking a personal call on the clock. “Ah here it is. You’ll be working with Kim Namjoon...” 

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

After finishing work you head off to the mall for your first day on wrapping duty. It should be a relatively quiet night, since the majority of the crowd typically disperses at this time, heading home to be with families for dinner. Your own sits in a paper bag on the passenger seat of your car. A solitary meal as you battle the rush hour traffic. Finishing off the last of the salted fries with a lick of your fingers while you secure a parking spot. 

Flipping down your visor you scoff when confronted with your appearance, your makeup melted off thanks to the struggles of your earlier shift. You dab and blend a fresh blot of concealer on the dark bags beneath your eyes, determined to erase any evidence of your doleful days and sleepless nights. 

The rented store space is already set up, with a long table propped up right at the entrance. Dressed with a variety of paper and ribbon and looking particularly festive. The other volunteers give you a brief greeting and run down before they leave and pass the duties off to you. With them gone you take a seat, looking down at the selection you have to offer this year, trying with all your might not to focus on the empty chair beside you, one that is usually fill by your-

“Hi, sorry I’m late...” Your gaze flicks up from the table, startled to find a giant of a man. Greeting you with a smile warm enough to melt your frozen expression. 

“H-hi,” You stutter out, staring at his handsome face framed with light brown locks, feeling as though you’ve seen it before, but can’t quite place where. “You must be Namjoon?” You ask, running through the list of actors and singers in your mind but coming up empty on who he reminds you of.

He nods, before confirming your name too, and launching into the reason behind his tardiness. “The traffic was not in my favour today.” He gestures to the table and the vacant seat behind it. “May I?” 

“Of course.” You quickly scoot the folding table over so he can slip by the barrier that separates you from the mall. He takes off his coat to reveal a whole suit beneath, though he soon disposes of the jacket and tie too. You try not to gulp as he rolls up his sleeves in front of you, his arms flexing as they reveal themselves. 

“Pretty quiet?” He asks looking around the mall. 

“It usually is around now, give it an hour or two.”

“Have you been doing this long?”

“A few years...” You mumble, not wanting to dive too deep in that well, you quickly turn to pin the question on him instead. “What prompted you to volunteer? Did Emma enlist you during her recruiting effort?”  

“She did, I found her posting the flyer at my workplace.” Namjoon chuckles. “But I’ve seen you all set up here before, and since my usual Christmas plans with my family have changed, I thought I’d join you all instead.”

“Oh, so you’re not spending Christmas with them?” 

“No, they’ve gone to visit my sister and her family in her city this year. I unfortunately have a few work commitments I can’t get out of to make the trip in time, but rather than just mope about at home I thought I might be of some use.” Namjoon smiles again, his fingers folding the corner of the wrapping paper in front of him. “What about you, any plans?”

“No, I usually spend it with my mom, but she won’t be with me this year...” Or any year going forward, you consider while you give him a weak smile. She was the very reason you joined this organization all those years ago, when Aunt Emma was making her rounds and signing up everyone she could at the hospital, you and your mother were there for an appointment, your mom offered up both of your services lending you to a tradition that would extend for years through her treatment, remission, and the final return. 

“So we're in the same boat?” 

“I guess so.” His grin is so contagious, despite the differences in your situation you can’t help but agree.

Your first client of the evening comes forward and drops a small pile of kids toys in front of you both . “Thank god you're here. If I bring these home unwrapped my kids won’t hesitate to spoil the surprise.” You divide the presents between you and Namjoon while the mother keeps talking and flicking through the different styles of paper offered. “At least if they’re wrapped I can say I saw Santa at the mall and he gave me these early. They are so hard to fool these days.” 

“I take it you’ll want the Santa stickers?” You ask pointing to a closed box behind you, hidden away from the wide and prying eyes of young children passing by. 

“Yes, thank you so much!” 

“No problem.” You assure her while putting the last piece of tape on the stack of video games. Though when you look over to check on Namjoon you find that he has barely even started. He cut off a sheet entirely too big and is attempting to fold it around the boxed animatronic pet. Your eyes stare at the state of the poor paper unable to look away from the crumpled carnage. But the shock soon turns to amusement over his determination to salvage the mangled sheet, and you find yourself biting your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Luckily the woman in front of you hasn’t noticed but once you're finished with yours, you reach over for the assist. 

“Here, I can take over that one. Could you do the ribbon for me?” 

 Namjoon nods opening his mouth in an embarrassed grin. He does manage to secure the strand around the package but loses the spool before he can cut it. The red ribbon rolls all the way to your foot, before you stop it with a tap on the sole of your boot. Namjoon winces, while you let out a chuckle before bending over to hand it back to him, and finish wrapping the other present. 

The attempt at a ribbon curl unfortunately goes the same as the package before it, with him completely at a loss and using the wrong edge of the scissor blade. Trying to save him you make another suggestion. “If you want you can always use the premade sticker curls.” 

Namjoon nods and places them on the two packages along with the vibrant sticker of a cartoon Claus winking as he delivers the warning, ‘Do not open ‘till Christmas, Santa’s watching.’

As you load up the presents into a bag, Namjoon takes to the cashbox, looking expectantly from the client with his dashingly dimpled grin. 

“Oh right.” She comments with an awkward smile. Opening her Gucci bag and matching wallet, the corners of her lips turning down when she rifles through several triple digit bills unable to find any smaller denomination. 

The stand is by donation only, but the implication has always been that one should compensate the fundraiser for the service provided. You can usually tell when someone intends to leave no payment at all, and unfortunately you know this act all too well. She’ll apologize and say that she has to run to the bank and get some cash, but you’ll never see her again. Namjoon, unfamiliar with this ploy, continues to give his eager smile, and to your utter shock she submits, handing him a hundred dollar bill. 

Namjoon thanks her profusely as she melts too under his gaze muttering, “Not a problem.” Before walking off clutching her now wrapped gifts. 

You look to Namjoon in disbelief while he locks the money away in the cash box. Only breaking the silence when the client is fully out of earshot. “How the hell did you do that?!”

“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow completely oblivious to what he just achieved. 

“She... she... you got her to donate, and such a large amount. How?”

“What do you mean how? People give that much all the time don’t they?”

“No, they don’t!” 

“Oh...” He gives you another of his knee weakening smiles. “Sorry I assumed, I guess I’m just used to it.” He scratches at the back of his neck looking down at the table.

“Used to it? Where on earth do you see, do you get used to, that kind of generosity?”

“Through my job I suppose?” His grin turns to a look of embarrassment. “I work in art procurement, currently under contract with the museum. I seek out collectors and convince them to donate or loan out their assets.”

It would seem that getting people to open up their wallets is practically his profession. “Well... looks like manning the cash will be the perfect job for you.” That smile of his is a dangerous weapon, and one you would be remiss not to use in the fundraiser’s efforts. Though it still leaves one question unanswered. “But I have to ask...” Your previously concealed giggling comes to the surface. “Why on earth would you volunteer for a holiday wrapping station if you don’t know how to wrap?”

A blush reaches his cheeks. “Last year when I was here... I left with far more than I was expecting, and feeling as though I should have given more. So I figured if I couldn’t be with my own family, I wanted to do this instead.” He starts habitually folding a paper scrap. “And maybe I’d learn a useful skill-”

When a streak of red is left on the paper trailing behind his finger you jump to interrupt. “Is that...”

“Fuck.” He mutters pulling his index close to examine it. “Yeah, those scissors are sharp, didn’t realize I drew blood though.”

You immediately start rummaging around in your bag. “I know I have a couple in here, one second.” You pull out a small box of bandages and peel apart the papers to reveal the adhesive.

“You carry band-aids in your purse?” Namjoon asks, with a raised brow.

“You're the one who cut their finger trying to make a ribbon curl.”

“It wasn’t a criticism, sorry I just thought it was... nice.” He holds up the injury and you're careful to wrap the strip around it.

“Yes well,” Your face heats up as you catch yourself lingering. “Try to stay away from the scissors unless absolutely necessary. I’d rather not have to make a trip to the hospital.”

“That would be counter productive wouldn’t it?” Namjoon laughs outright. 

...

Despite you being the only one to wrap you both manage the evening surprisingly well, pulling in a record donation amount.

“You must be good at your job,” you mutter with a smirk, as you finish counting the lockbox. “I’ve never seen people so happy to part with their money.”

“I only showed them how good of a job you did,” Namjoon explains. “I’ve never seen someone put so much care into wrapping.” 

“First impressions for a gift can be important too.” You justify as you secure the cash in a deposit bag. “They put a lot of care into selecting the gift, why shouldn’t I exemplify that?”

“Even the gift cards?”

“Especially the gift cards. I have to make them memorable somehow don’t I?”

“True.” Namjoon concedes, with a small frown.  “Listen I’m sorry if I didn’t make a good first impression on you myself. If you want I can call Emma and we will find someone else to help you.”

“No, I enjoyed working with you. It just caught me off guard that you didn’t actually know how to wrap. If you get bored of handling the cash I could try and teach you if you’d like... you said you wanted to learn right?”

“You’d be willing to show me?”

“Definitely, though let's stick to the premade ribbon curls. I’d rather not have to use anymore band-aids if I can avoid it.” 

After pulling down the gate and locking up the station up behind. Namjoon accompanies you to the bank to drop off the deposit before you part ways for the evening, with you going out one exit and him another. 

The sudden blast of cold air forces you to huddle in your coat, and crank the heat the very second you step into your car. As the windows to thaw and frost retreats, you spot your tall wrapping partner waiting at the bus stop. 

“Now why would he...” You’re left perplexed judging from the description of his job and quality of his attire you assumed him to drive some sort of flashy car, never would you think he would take public transportation. 

You drive over and stop right in front of Namjoon, rolling down the window. “Where do you live?”

“The Swan Estates, but if you don’t leave near there that’s fine I don’t mind bussing home.” Namjoon looks down the road. “It should be here soon.”

“It’s no problem, I pass by that area on my way home.” You reach across the car for the handle opening the door. “Come on get in. It’s too cold to wait for a bus.”  

Namjoon nods, and eagerly hops into the car holding his hands close to his vents with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I didn’t think to ask, I just assumed-”

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time. 

“As you saw earlier I’m rather accident prone. I think it’s safer for everyone if I leave the driving to others.” He chuckles looking out the window. “What about you? When not rescuing people from cold transit stops or wrapping disasters, what do you daylight as.”

You grimace at the question knowing your answer is nowhere near as impressive as his. “I’m a phone-rep for Interlude Shipping, I work in their tracking department.”

His reaction is not the usual glazed expression you get when you reveal that you work in a call centre, but a look of awe. “You must be so busy this time of year, how do you have energy for volunteering too?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

“It’s... a paycheck. I needed a full time position with benefits right out of school and that was what was available. I would have preferred something else but...” You stop yourself, scolding how much you almost revealed. Finding it far too easy to talk to Namjoon. He doesn’t pester you to continue but lets your abrupt end linger in the silence until he points out his house within the estate. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Namjoon nods in agreement with his dimples on full display. “Looking forward to it. Thanks again for the ride.”

After he leaves your car another nervous giggle you’ve been holding in finally escapes you. Three weeks working with this kind, considerate and downright gorgeous man. Though there’s no ring on his finger, he has to be attached to someone. Men like him don’t walk around single for long. Your shoulders fall at the thought, despite the fact that you have no intention of forming an attachment at this time... it’s still too soon. 

Before you even pull out of Namjoon’s driveway, your phone vibrates from the cup holder you stashed it in. Aunt Emma’s name popping up on the display. You press the green button to accept and put her on speaker while you pull out onto the road. 

“Hello my dear, just checking in to see how the first night went?” 

“Good, no great actually. I think you’ll be happy with the result.”

“And your partner? Everything working well with him?”

“Yeah,” You confirm looking up in the rearview mirror taking one last look at Namjoon’s house. “He’s really nice, we already have a system in place so I think we’ll work well together.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. I was worried at first, wondered if I had made the right decision-”

“You did!” You encourage her, not wanting her to change her mind, and make another switch.

“Great, so we’ll carry on as is then. I’ll message Maria to let her know, I think she’s still on shift at the hospital though...” Aunt Emma mutters to herself. “Speaking of which I had to stop by there today and guess who was asking about you?” 

You freeze in the front seat of your car, unable to say his name, but that doesn’t stop your chatty Aunt from continuing on despite your silence. 

“That Jackson, such a nice young man, it’s a pity you-” 

“Aunt Emma, I’m so sorry but I should go. ” You cut her off unwilling to listen to her disappointment over your own personal matter. “It’s getting late and I have work in the morning.”

“Oh of course, no problem dear. Call me if you need anything.” 

When you arrive at your cold and empty apartment. The silence greets you with the usual punch to your gut, just as it has for the past eight months. She should be there to say hello and ask you about your day, just as she always had. But all that’s there to welcome you is the stack of dusty Christmas decor boxes thrown in the corner of the living room. Unwilling to spend another minute alone you sulk off to bed, ready to put another day behind and start the next. But for the first time in a while, you are actually looking forward to a fraction of the never ending cycle. 

...

Whoever said Christmas time is the most wonderful time of year, clearly never worked a customer service job. They’ve never been yelled at for four hours straight, gone to lunch, and then endured another four. With a couple weeks still left until the looming deadline of Christmas you can only imagine what you’ll have to listen to in the coming days. The woes of a parent trying to track down their child's number one gift... it’s enough to send chills down your spine. Just once you’d like to find someone happy on the other end of the line, someone who didn’t need something from you, someone who called just to say hi, and indulge you with a friendly chat. 

With the last call of the day done you throw on your coat, and bolt out of the office before anyone else. Elated by the fact that you have somewhere else to be, happy that someone else is expecting you. Namjoon beats you to the station today, chatting with the other volunteers as they leave. One of them pats you on the arm and delivers a sad smile, you seize with fear and the worry that they had discussed you, but when you find Namjoon beaming without a hint of concern the weight lifts and you can once again forget your loss for now. 

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

“Good... good.” You cover with a smile not wanting to drag him down. He doesn’t look convinced his eyes narrow and the corner of his lip twitches, but you reciprocate before he can confirm. “How about your day?”

“Quiet, I’ve spent the past few months alongside the curators putting together an exhibit and with it finally finished all that’s left is to wait until it’s over.”

“So you had to stay here for Christmas only to wait for it to end? That’s too bad.”

“There are a couple other tasks I have to attend, an auction, and an event for the patrons, but the tear down on the 24th is pretty important, some of the lenders will want their pieces back in time for Christmas.”

“That’s such a miserable deadline for so much work. Why would they ask you to give up your Christmas Eve to do that? Surely it can be done after the holiday can't it?”

“Not this one, it’s ‘The Gift of Christmas’ Past’ exhibit,” Namjoon explains. “Many people were good enough to donate their family heirlooms for the majority of the season, but come the actual holiday, it’s time for them to return home.”  

You just about fall off your chair in awe. You’ve seen that exhibit advertised everywhere, even been tempted to go yourself, but the thought of going alone has prevented your attendance. “I had no idea, that’s such a popular exhibit, you worked on that?”

“I did, I even helped come up with the idea for it.” Namjoon beams, with a small amount of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. “The curators at the museum have been more than accommodating. I never thought I’d get the chance to step into their roll myself. I was lucky to be given the chance, so you can understand why I had to stay and help them once it’s finished. Of course it’s given me some other opportunities I would never have had in the past too, like the ability to help you here.” 

You nod still looking at him in admiration, while in your mind a further divide falls between you. As friendly as he is to you, it’s obvious that he’s way out of your league. Even if you wanted to pursue something more with him, someone of his status... really it’s a wonder he even looks in your direction, let alone chose to volunteer at this tiny holiday wrapping station.  

Your conversation is interrupted by a mall goer with a bag of gifts. Namjoon helps as best he can, supplying you with tape as he learns over your shoulder. Loaning you his finger to help you knot the ribbon around the gifts. With a sizeable donation left in Namjoon’s care you are both left alone at the table again.

Between clients you do your best to show him how to wrap the small boxes and ready cut paper at your disposal. Though his folding has improved, his use of tape can be considered... excessive. “You shouldn’t need more than three pieces on a present like this.” You chuckle as you catch his hand before it can apply the seventh piece of tape. 

“But your packaging looks so durable compared to mine. How is it supposed to hold together if not for more tape.”

“Years of practice with tighter folds and better adhesive placement.” You analyze his work. “You might be an up and coming art curator but wrapping is my craft.”

Namjoon laughs and grabs a fresh sheet along with the scissors. 

“Should I go fetch my band-aids?” You ask, gazing at the sharp implement with trepidation. 

“No I’ve got this, I’m ready to earn my redemption.” Namjoon folds the paper several times before cutting a rounded edge. “Wrapping might not be my forte, but this I mastered long ago.” He opens up the paper grinning madly as he reveals a perfect snowflake.

You giggle at the innocence of the piece in question. “That is quite impressive, when did you become such a proficient?”

“I’d say I peaked at eight. One evening when it was just my sister and I, we covered my whole house with them. Every surface, every window, plastered with paper snow. Though my parents were less than enthused I like to think of it as my first full art show.”

“What on earth possessed you to do it?” You ask, trying to imagine the look on his parents as they returned home to the indoor flurry.

Namjoon looks up with a heavy expression, for such a lighthearted story why does he look so wary to tell you “A mutual fri-”

But as chance would have it he is once again interrupted by another coming to your station. When the post dinner rush hits you hardly get another chance to chat. 

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

The week passes in much the same way as the past two days, but with each evening session Namjoon is able to improve upon his wrapping skills a little more. To the point where you are comfortable to leave him alone for a few minutes to man the station.

“You’re sure it’s all right if I just run to the washroom for a minute?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I could put up the be back in five minutes sign if you-”

“Go, I can hold down the fort... just leave the band-aids.” You are ready to let out a big sigh when Namjoon holds up his hands in defeat. “Just kidding, I promise, now go.”

You hurry off as fast as you can swearing when you find a line up. By the time that you are finally able to return you find Namjoon finishing up with an attractive woman and her single gift. You smile at her as you join him behind the table, she pauses, caught off guard for a moment but then hands him the donation along with a slip of paper. 

Namjoon opens it as she walks off. Blushing profusely before throwing it in the trash along with the wrapping scraps. 

“What was that about?”

“Nothing... she just must have gotten the wrong impression.”

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt. 

“And you're not going to keep it? She was gorgeous.”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Right, I assume that wouldn’t go over well with your girlfriend.” You speculate, seeking to figure out his status once and for all.

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?” 

“No boyfriend either.” Namjoon smiles. “I just wasn’t looking to get her number.”

You look at him in disbelief. If she wasn’t good enough, there’s no way in hell you could ever dream of being with him.

...

The drive home in the evening is rather quiet. Namjoon’s fingers drag across his lips as if in deep compilation. 

“Any big plans for your couple days of freedom?” With Aunt Emma’s team working the weekend that gives both you and Namjoon some time off, but unfortunately apart. 

“What? Oh yes, I suppose.” He answers as though you dragged him from a stupor. “I have an auction to go to tomorrow for work.”

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

“Not exactly in the market to buy. But if you're not busy you should come along, I would love some company.”

“Not because you would love a drive?”

“No, not at all, I was planning on booking a car tonight. I could come pick you up on the way.”

You shake your head. “No, if we’re going together I’ll drive. No need to waste your money on something like that. What time should I pick you up?”

“I’ll have to double check and get back to you but likely late in the morning?” You nod in agreement as he pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”

You give it to him and your cell vibrates in your pocket as he sends off a text a second later, leaving you with his own.  

“So I guess I will see you tomorrow now then.”

“It’s a date.” Namjoon smiles as he gets out and leaves you in the car. 

You snort in disbelief, staring after him while he runs off to the front door of his house. No, there’s no way, he can’t be serious, it’s not a date, date. The phone vibrates again, reminding you of the unread message he sent, prompting you to look at it before you drive off home.

This was the only phone number I actually wanted.  See you tomorrow,  - Namjoon  

...

You lie in bed caught between denial and anticipation for what’s to come in the next day. Every moment that excitement bubbles up inside, you are forced to push it down with the weight of scepticism. Namjoon was looking to distract from his lonely Christmas, you are just the band-aid to his superficial wound, but would that be so bad? Haven’t you been using him the past week in the same manner, a mode of distraction? The only difference is the depths of your injuries. While his might be a simple cut repaired by time, yours is a laceration straight to the heart, damage that will soon bleed through a flimsy bandage, but at least you can hide it for now, you can conceal the extent of your misery and enjoy the comfort that is him for the holiday. Ripping that band-aid off won’t hurt, not compared to the damage that has already been done.

You look back at your phone smiling at his message, confirming that this is what you want for now, when to your surprise another comes in. 

KNJ: Are you awake? 

You double check the time, 12:23 a little late for a friendly chat isn’t it?

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

KNJ: That depends, what are your thoughts on Hallmark Christmas movies?

You pause in confusion, questioning his motives for such an odd query. Coming up dry you can give him the most truthful answer you can. 

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

Your phone starts ringing a second later, the caller Namjoon. You pick it up to hear him laughing on the other end. “I’ll have to remember that. You up for burning a film? I could use another open fire, there’s a pretty horrible one on their channel right now.”

“I’m sure I could spark an ember of criticism. How bad are we talking?”

“There’s a made up country, a town that looks like it exists solely for the purpose of celebrating Christmas-”

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

“Nope, just following the trend of tropes.” You grab your earbuds and venture out to the living room wrapped in your blanket, a beverage in hand, and ready to turn on your own TV. With one bud lodge in your ear to listen to Namjoon the other is free to take in the cringeworthy dialogue. “My god why were you watching this?”

“Couldn’t sleep, and I thought this would also help put me in the Christmas spirit, but I can’t stop laughing at how bad it is.” Namjoon chuckles deeply as the heroine stumbles over a mere pebble and falls into the hero’s arm. 

“I don’t think you have any right to laugh at that part.” You join him in laughter. “You two appear to have some similarities.”

“Wait, so does this make me the clumsy lead and you the dashingly perfect love interest?”

“Oh most definitely, I’ll be saving your Christmas.”

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”  

You’re thankful that Namjoon isn’t there to see your response, silently choking on your glass of water, followed by spilling your sip all down your shirt, further emphasising your next point. “I’m not perfect.”

“Well you should let me see that side sometime, or I will continue to feel like this poor woman who is confronted with someone way out of their league.” 

Namjoon thinks that you're out of his league? “No, I’m sorry but in order for me to save your Christmas based on this movie I have to play the perfect hero.” Of course the leading lady swoons in her prince's arms. “I just wish the characters had more depth, I’ve read kids books with a wider emotional range.”

“Me too. And the timing,” Namjoon scoffs. “It’s always so perfect. They always meet at the perfect moment and latch on immediately only to have everything work out in their favour, and it all claims to be a Christmas miracle, it doesn’t work like that.”

“That sounds like someone’s been scorned before on Christmas.”

“Not scorned no. More like a missed opportunity, one that I’ve regretted for a long while.”

 “Anything I can help with?” You ask. “As the supporting lead that is my mission is it not?”

“Maybe, I’ll have to think about it. Unfortunately my dilemma isn’t so easy to solve.”

“I don’t think anyone's dilemma’s are ever as easy or clear cut as theirs.” You yawn as you lay down on the couch and watch the pitiful drama unfold. “Their world is perfect and always has their back through some sort of mystical power or being.”

   “I think people in the real world call that god...” Namjoon chuckles.

“Yeah well, our god is a shitty writer if this is what their creations come to expect.” You murmur, stifling a yawn.  

“Is that a crack in your shining armour I spy?”

“No, just commentary.” Though your own internal defences are askew, and the longer you watch the more you understand why. It’s jealousy, jealousy of how quickly they overcome any tragedy, and how they do so with a picture perfect life, as if the creators left all the negative emotions, the realistic impacts of trauma, on the cutting room floor. If only you were that perfect love interest that Namjoon wanted you to be... maybe you can keep the facade until the end of the holidays, at least one of you can have a better Christmas for it. 

All you have to do is continue ignoring the most painful parts, a practice you are well versed in considering the boxes still looming in the shadowy corner, still unmoved after all this time. You know nothing good will come from unpacking them, there is no comfort inside, the only thing that could help is long gone, the story which your mother used to read to you every Christmas before you moved here. You’ve hunted through those boxes so many times while she was still here with you, but now that she’s gone you don’t even have the desire to look, nor the strength to store them away. 

...

You wake hours later with a loud crumpling sound in your right ear. Your bud still in place, and your call time continues to count past the 7 hour mark. “Namjoon, are you there?” You inquire with a groggy yawn. 

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?” 

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry I did too. But unfortunately I seem to have lost an airpod at some point in the night.” The rustling continues as he chats to you. “I refuse to lose another to this couch, it’s taken so many from me already, you’ think I would have learned by now.”

“Oh, then this is a regular occurrence for you? Chatting up women until you fall asleep,” you scoff.

“No! God no, I just usually fall asleep listening to music and then my cushions eat them when I lower my defences.”

“I leave you to battle it out with your sofa, but what time should I pick you up?” 

“Eleven okay with you?” 

You double check the clock, ensuring you have enough time for a shower and to look presentable. “Yeah that works. I’ll see you then.”

...

You pull into the packed parking lot of a large warehouse. With Namjoon looking dapper in a blazer and peacoat. You yourself are glad to have chosen to dress a bit classier than your usual garb for a Saturday afternoon. When he said it was for work you couldn’t risk dressing down. 

But there is still an air of confusion about your reason for being here. If he’s not attending to buy something for the museum or a client, why is his presence required? The items up for auction are not exactly what you expected, with the majority of it being furniture and woven rugs. You tilt your head in confusion as Namjoon eyes up an old wooden desk. 

“Sorry,” He mutters, seeing you as he comes to from his distracted state. “I have a personal weakness for such items.”

“Don’t be, but is that why we're here?”

“No, although it is tempting.” He nods over to a collection of old black and white sketches on the wall across from you, graphite scenes of the city from long ago judging by subject matter and the yellowing of the paper behind the frame. “They’re the real reason we’re here. When I heard of this estate sale I knew that some of those works would likely come to market. I’m here to find out who buys them, and hopefully see if we can secure a possible loan for the museum in the future.”  

“So how do you do it? How do you convince them to part with such pieces other than that dangerous smile of yours?”

Namjoon humours you, flashing his most coveted weapon. “Many of the artworks found at estate sales like this, they’ve fallen into disrepair. They often haven’t been cared for, likely kept in some musty room where the humidity damages them. The museum has a team of top rated and highly respected conservators who would be able to properly preserve it and slow any further deterioration, and in exchange for their services we ask for a short term loan of the art. 

“A win-win.” 

“I like to think so, but some people are rather protective of their investment. It can be a tricky negotiation which I have been on both sides of when I worked for the private sector.” 

“Which do you prefer more?”

“Definitely the public. The museum doesn’t pay as much, but the audience and notoriety far greater. I really hope that I can continue my work with them once my initial contract ends.”

“I assume securing this for them will help in that goal?” You nod to the pieces, admiring the sought after collection. 

“One can only hope. Who knows, maybe I’ll get my Christmas miracle like the movies promised.” He jokes, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you on. 

While you and Namjoon continue to look around at the lots up for bidding, he proceeds to fawn over the wooden art and furniture, taking pictures and looking up the makers. 

You can’t help but enjoy his interest, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth gasp when he’s found something which intrigues him. “Have you ever purchased something for yourself at one of these?” 

“A few things, tables, chairs, and books too. It’s a great place to find unique pieces, or things lost to the past.” He gives you a shy smile. “Is there anything you’d like to look for?”

A possible item springs to the forefront of your mind. “Do they have any books here now?” 

Namjoon grins at your request and leads you over to several crates filled to the brim with books. All the copies inside look to be older editions of epic novels, nothing like what you hope to find. Your heart sinks as you let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Can I help?”

“Nah, I think I’m out of luck. I was looking for a kid’s picture book. I briefly met someone at the wrapping station who found a copy second hand, must have been at a sale like this. I was hoping I would have the same success, but that seems like a bit of a far reach.” Had it not been their gift to someone else you would have made them an offer for it or even gotten their name at the very least, but you were so distracted at the time... all you can see and remember to this day was the book in front of you.

“I’m sorry-” Namjoon starts with an unnecessary apology, it wasn’t his fault that you lost the favourite book of your youth, that you missed the chance to give your mother one last glimpse of the pages with you before she passed.

“It’s fine,” You cut him off not wanting to dwell on the loss or risk deteriorating that perfect cover right here in front of him, in front of everyone, when he has something important to attend to. “Should we go find seats before they start the auction?”

Namjoon nods, seeming to examine your eyes with careful study, but he will find no tears, no dampness there, those are locked away tight. He escorts you to a seat near the back. “This way we can get a better view of those bidding without looking out of place.”

The auction lots pass by with many remaining silent. Namjoon points out several antique dealers to you that are snapping up many of the pieces. But the rest of the buyers all appear to be waiting for the same prize that Namjoon is. 

“Do you have any favourites to win?” You whisper to him as the collection is carried into view.

“I’m hoping for anyone I’ve dealt with in the past.” Namjoon nods in the direction of a middle aged woman dressing in a fur trimmed coat and strands of pearls draped around her neck. “Mrs. Coleman already has a few works in one of the exhibits, and Mr. Roth over there.” He turns to a man wearing a tweed jacket and a sturdy wooden cane in hand. “Is one of the most notable patrons of the museum.”

Silence falls in the room as the auctioneer takes up the gavel again and describes the works. Many around you sit up a little straighter as Namjoon’s eyes dart around at those he thinks might attempt to purchase.

The bids flood in, with very few gaps for breath as the numbers are rattled off. It takes only two minutes before the going price is more than your annual salary. You lower yourself, pooling in your seat as the extravagant wealth is thrown around you. 

Once the pace slows, Namjoon's face highlights his concern, his eyes glancing back and forth between two people, the older lady in mink he spoke of before, and an unknown man with a cell pressed to his ear. 

As the wooden hammer drops so do the corners of Namjoon’s lips. 

“And sold to the gentleman on the phone number three-two-eight, number three-two-eight for sixty-five thousand.” The auctioneer announces. 

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

“Now we have an anonymous buyer who I have no ability to meet or advise.” He sighs, hanging his head, with his fingers dragging across his mouth again.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper as he nods next to you taking several deep breaths. Your hand reaches out to his arm and he turns to you with a small smile.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll figure something out, but I might as well make the most out of my time here.” With the auction now over he rises from his seat and approaches one of the museum's patrons with an outreached hand. “Mr. Roth, good to see you, you’ll be attending the final night of the exhibit I hope, and who is this with you...”

While Namjoon continues to make pleasantries and exchange business cards you keep your eye on the sketches watching as they are rolled behind the desk and packed away in crates. You approach the area where one of the clerks is recording and distributing the information for the now rightful owners, with a mob of bidders descending on him for their newly purchased items so they might leave as soon as possible. 

It would seem that this business too is feeling the crunch of Christmas. A flurry of paperwork is exchanged in haste passing from one hand to the next, until one signed receipt of purchase escapes his notice and falls to the ground in front of you. Picking it up you wait for the crowd to clear, giving the clerk a chance to recover before you approach with the lost sheet, setting it on the desk before him. His confused gaze soon changes to outright shock over his loss when he realizes what you’ve returned.

He thanks you profusely, causing you wonder how much strife he would have encountered had you not been there to return it. “No problem, you look like you have a lot on your plate.” You smile politely, attempting to soothe your fellow casualty of the Christmas rush. “I just have a question for you though, if that’s okay?” 

“Not at all how can I help?” He agrees, his stance far more relaxed than it was with the horde a few moments before. 

“My friend, he was hoping to get in contact with the purchaser of those sketches there, on behalf of a museum. I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get a hold of them, is there?”

“I’m sorry but not at liberty to divulge that ma’am.” Your rising hope falls, you knew it would be a long shot but you didn’t want to leave without trying. “However... if there’s a phone number or information regarding the museum’s interest I can include that in the paperwork to send off along with the purchase.”

“Really? You would do that?”

When the clerk confirms, you immediately turn on your heel and take a step in Namjoon’s direction before bumping into his solid chest, not realizing that he had already come to find you. 

“What are you doing-”

“Getting you that miracle.” You grab one of his business cards from his hand, and turn back around to give it to the clerk who tucks it into the envelope along with the other documentation. “Thank you.” You smile at the clerk who returns the gesture.

“And you said I have a dangerous smile?” Namjoon mutters as he leads you away with a chuckle. “What did he say exactly?”

“That he would include it with the paperwork for the sale. I just hope they will reach out and call you.”

“Me too.” Namjoon smiles, but it doesn't quite appear to reach his eyes. “Shall we head out. I think I’m done here.”

The drive home is rather quiet, the weight of Namjoon’s gloom hanging in the air and he makes no attempt to hide it. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure out where to go from here,” he groans. “Those sketches were going to be the start of something new for me. I know the buyer might still come through but I’m not going to hold my breath. I need to keep searching for what comes next, I’m just a little lost, but I’ll find my path again soon.”

“You make it sound so easy.” 

“Sometimes it is, sometimes life will drop it right in front of me and other times I will have to search for it, but that’s a problem for after the holidays.” Namjoon looks out his window at the lights which start to come alive as you drive home. “Are you ready for the big day?”

“Christmas?” You give a nervous laugh, “No, I haven’t even put up any decorations.”

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm. 

“Just haven’t really felt the need this year. There’s no one there to enjoy them but myself.”

“Which makes it all the more important to put them up.” Namjoon sits up in his seat, his whole persona changing. “I could help you if you’d like?”

You wince over the quandary. With your decorations sitting in your living room under an inch of dust it might arouse some confusion, and his heart would likely sink if he knew how long they actually rested there for. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for it yet. Maybe another time?”

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Work continues to degrade as the countdown progresses. The only thing getting you through the shifts is the thought of Namjoon’s help at the stand. But as soon as Christmas is over, you wonder if your friendship will go the same way as the festive season, cast aside like the wrapping of the gifts you tended to in the weeks prior. 

After a few days of busy shifts you’re both thankful to make it to another close. But when you are packing up the station Namjoon’s phone starts to ring. He looks down in confusion at the number without a contact attached. “Do you mind?” 

“No, not at all.”

He grins as he answers the phone pacing further back into the vacant shop space and away from the sounds of the echoing mall. You continue to count off the deposit, and roll the wrapping paper. Trying your best not to listen, to give Namjoon his privacy, however you can’t help but notice the happiness in his tone, spotting his dimples from across the room when you sneak a glance. When you grab to move the last box of bows Namjoon ends his call. Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes accompanied by the widest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“That was- that was the buyer.” He explains as he comes to help you with the final box, taking it from your hands and placing it on the back shelf. “He wants to meet with me this weekend.”

He’s so close, vibrating with an overwhelming delight. His arms move around you as though he is about to pull you in for a gracious hug. You start to congratulate him as he embraces you, “Really?! That’s gre-” only to be cut off when his lips come for yours instead. Once the shock evaporates, you start to appreciate the heat of the moment, the warmth of his skin, the softness of his mouth. Your hands reach up to his toned shoulders and neck pulling him down, diminishing the space between you. Breathing him in like this with your eyes closed, nothing else matters in the moment, nothing other than his firm chest pushing back against yours, his hands on your waist gripping at your shirt.  

With a deep sigh and a bite to his own lip he pulls back. “Sorry I just-”

“Don’t, don’t apologize.” You cut him off this time.  

“I can’t even begin to thank you.” 

“I hardly did anything.” You laugh at the extremeness of his appreciation, though a small part of you dies when you realize his kiss was nothing more than a gesture of gratitude.

 “That’s not true...” He responds, giving you his wide eyes and a shy smile.

On the drive home your companion can barely contain his delight, breaking into random smiles and laughter as he informs his coworkers of the success via text. 

“There’s this event...” Namjoon starts, as you pull in front of his home. “At the museum on the twenty-third, a week from today, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.” 

“Next Wednesday? But we have a shift at the wrapping station.”

“I spoke to Emma a few days ago and she agreed to cover if we both wanted to go.”

“Emma, making a change so close to Christmas? I don’t buy it. What did you offer her in return?” You ask with a critical gaze. The woman runs such a tight schedule, only something great or important would have prompted her to agree.

“My next year of service.” Namjoon confesses, he looks down at his feet as though he might buckle from the embarrassment. 

“Next year? You already promised to work it?”

“If you want me there that is. I’ll practice more in the meantime, I promise I won’t leave you to all of the difficult packages.” Namjoon chuckles. “But what do you say, will you go with me?”

“Ye-yeah I would love it’s just...” You stutter trying to come up with a good excuse but your brain draws a blank leaving only the truth. “I don’t know how well... how well I’ll fit in there.”

“What? No, why would you think that?” Namjoon places his hand on your leg while you drive. A move which causes the both of you to pause in reaction and him to retreat. “Trust me when I say you belong there more than anyone else.”

You nod your head and give him a small smile, wishing more than anything his hand would return. “I’ll come if you want me there. What’s the attire?”

“Semi-formal, and don’t worry about driving I’ll pick you up.” 

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

You stand in front of your mirror, wearing a dress which fits your shape perfectly, but stretches your pocket book significantly. The price tags hanging down from the zipper taunt you, tempting you to rip them away, to commit to the indulgence. Even if it’s only for a night, the payoff in the end might be worth the overpriced lace. You give in with a snip of the scissors and a swallow of guilt, letting the printed cardstock hit your bedroom floor. 

 You’ve spent the past couple of hours leading up to this moment in a fit of stress cleaning, disposing of the dust bunnies. Now at least if Namjoon comes over after... you won’t be completely off guard.

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

Sliding your shoes on and grabbing what you need, you leave your empty apartment with a growing smile on your face. The moment you can see the car from the buildings foyer both Namjoon and the driver exit the vehicle, though Namjoon is quick to wave the driver back to his seat, choosing instead to hold the door for you himself. 

The thoughtful gesture is made more appealing as if it gives you a full view of your date in his dark three piece suit, his hair tamed back framing his handsome face, whose gaze appears to be giving you the once over for you too.

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

“Of course, I couldn’t embarrass you now could I? Have to land that first impression.”

“You would never. Besides I’m sure my colleagues will be fascinated to know who has enough courage to teach me how to wrap.”

“And how do you plan on introducing me to those colleagues of yours? As your date or your teacher?” You laugh.

“I was actually hoping I could introduce you as my girlfriend.” 

“Your girlfriend for tonight?” You panic, not expecting this development. “Wait, is this one of those fake dating scenarios? Did you tell them you had one and then-”

“I think we’ve been watching too much Hallmark.” Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “No this is not one of those scenarios, but I’ll take whatever form of companionship you are the most comfortable with.”

He gives you the stare of a man who is looking for more, but you know he won't need you once the holidays pass. His loneliness is temporary, yours is permanent. You’d rather not get your hopes up only to have them lost as he fades away in the cold gloom of January when his family returns. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Upon arrival Namjoon leads you through the massive doors by hand, taking your coat and checking it. The main hall just off the entrance is filled with patrons and staff all mingling and drinking while dining on tiny hors d’oeuvres. You look at the crowd with apprehension.  

Namjoon’s fingers interlace with yours again, a grip clearly intended to give you confidence. “I’ll introduce you to some of the staff first.” 

Several people congratulate Namjoon on the exhibit as he passes, he responds giving them a brief thank you as he ushers you through the crowd. Stopping at a small group of two, who greet Namjoon with a warm welcome. 

“Thank god you’re here, people have kept asking for the brains behind the exhibit.”

“And why didn’t you answer them.” Namjoon smiles before turning to introduce you to them, following up with the man who just spoke. “This is Eric Nam, a curator who I worked on the project with.”

“Don’t pass the torch, we both know it was your idea, I just helped put it into motion.” His coworker smiles gazing at you. “And you must be the one Namjoon has talked so much about.” 

The heat rises to your face as you look to Namjoon who confirms the statement with his own embarrassment. “Thank you Eric for sharing that with her...”

“No problem, it’s the least I could do for someone who gave you the insp-”

Namjoon coughs and shakes his head, cutting off his verbose friend. 

You're about to question your partner himself when the other colleague of his starts asking you questions. “What do you do for a living Ms....” You remind her of your name while Namjoon spotting refreshments wanders off with a whispered promise to get you both a drink. 

“I-I work for Interlude Shipping, in their tracking department.” You explain clasping your hands together in an attempt to settle your nerves.

“Oh, how nice...” The false quaintness in her tone is matched with a smirk as she takes a sip of wine. “Maybe you can help me find out if my sister’s present will arrive in time tomorrow.” 

“Valerie...” Eric growls. 

“What? I’m merely curious about her employment.” She smirks at him before continuing to her inquisition. “How long have you worked there? Did you have to get a degree for your role?” 

“No,” This is exactly what you were afraid of coming here, you just didn’t think the judgement would be coming from someone who works with Namjoon. “I started there right after high school. I didn’t have the luxury to go to an elite school to work in a place like this.” 

Eric comes over and claps you on the back. “Neither did Valerie; she just has family on the board.” Giving a coy smile to his coworker who scowls and stalks off without another word to you.  “In fact you’ve actually done more work here than her in the past month. I hear you’ve been helping Namjoon secure the collection we’ve been after?” 

You nod looking off after the departed curator, worried as to what impact your interaction could have with Namjoon’s position here.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just bitter that Namjoon didn’t ask her to accompany him here.”

“Oh, does she- do they-”

“Fuck no, but if she’s not everyone’s first choice she’s not happy.” Eric gets in a little closer. “You don’t have to worry about Namjoon looking elsewhere, if he’s at all hesitant it’s just because he’s a little cautious with you.”

“Why would he be cautious?”

“Why would who be cautious?” Namjoon asks, handing you a drink as he appears by your side again. 

 “Mr. Roth, that man should be careful. I heard he had hip surgery recently.” Eric responds, cutting in with a lie to cover your discussion. “It's good of him to still join us tonight, but enough about that, why don’t you go show her the exhibit before it gets too crowded in there?”

Namjoon offers up his arm in agreement. “I suppose we can get started on the tour, if you’d like.”

“Yes please,” You answer, threading your arm through his. “Thanks again Eric, it was nice meeting you.”

“You too, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” 

The stand next to the entrance bears all the names of those involved in the creation and a countless list of those who loaned out pieces to make it possible. “There’s so many involved, how large is this exhibit?”

“Not too big, you’ll see why there’s such a long list soon.”

When the door opens you find yourself in a hallway amidst what you can only describe as a snowstorm. The walkway, made to look like an alley set adrift in snow, with flickering lights and paper creations hanging from the ceiling. “Did you make any of those?” You ask, grinning as you squint through the flurrying beams.

“No, I left those to the talents of the students who came by on school field trips. It didn’t take them long before we had enough.”

“Find any new prodigies?”

“Several.” He answers, before pointing to the mounted photos on the wall. “But these works here are some of my favourites.” The pictures are framed to seem as though the viewer is looking in through the pains of a window to happy holiday scenes. From unwrapping presents around the tree to the busy crowds of your very own mall, each image sets out to draw from you a sense of nostalgia. 

“I can see why.” You find yourself lingering on the last of the photos by an accredited local photographer, savouring the display as much as you can, worried that it might end too soon. 

“Don’t worry,” Namjoon whispers, taking your hand in an eager urge to press on, “There’s plenty more to look at.” He points to the end of the hallway, where you find another door, though this one is dressed with a knocker and wreath looking as if it’s the entrance to someone's home.

You open the door to reveal a series of rooms connected by one long hallway. The first you step into you washes over you with warmth and comfort, the sound of a cracking fire surrounds you while the light of fake embers flows from the side. Set up through the room are tables of items from old to new ranging from Christmas tree ornaments, and household decorations to handwritten cards. “All of these-”

“Were loaned by families from the region, they gave a piece of their history and traditions up for most of the season so everyone could enjoy it. Over here we have...”

You could spend hours sitting and admiring in this room alone, but more than anything you want to push on more to see Namjoon’s excitement in sharing it with you. Each room features a different spot of the home. A chilly shed with vintage toboggans and sleds, a kitchen, stuffed with cookbooks and the smells of baking featuring countless cookie cutters of every shape and size. 

The next room is a little unusual and different from the rest, throwing you off for a moment, when the distinct scent of pine hits your nose. In the centre you find what look to be the replication of a massive trunk, and above false branches twinkling with lights. All round in a circle you find toys in glass cases spanning generations, when it hits you. “Are we under the Christmas tree?”

Namjoon gives you his coveted dimpled grin. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I do. I can’t believe you managed all of this.” You exclaim hurrying between each display like a kid on Christmas morning. From wagons, and Rubik’s cubes, all the way to Furbies and gaming systems he has the whole collection of popular toys throughout the years.  

Namjoon beams with pride once you’ve circled the entirety of the fake trunk and the presents beneath it. “Only one room left, but I think you’ll like this one the most.”

You're ushered into the next, a dimly lit space, a bed with a quilted cover stands in the centre, and on the walls you find countless story books, pinned open to so their stunning art is on display, papering the room with climatic holiday scenes and loveable characters. In one you find Scrooge meeting the ghost of Christmas past, in another you witness the Grinch save the sleigh from a perilous fall. Namjoon was right, this is without a doubt your favourite. While people filter in and out, you take your time looking at each set of pages. Your pace slow and steady, until you reach the special story that stops you entirely, the book you lost long ago, and have been trying to find ever since. Drawn on the pages before you is a little blue koala, with a pale purple nose, round ears, and a smile that lights up his face as he cuts out dozens of snowflakes. Namjoon stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder as you gaze at the book you know to be titled ‘Koya’s Christmas.’ 

You take a deep breath, while trying not to bend to the tears that threaten to break from your eyes. Focusing your attention instead to seek out the owner of the book, but unlike most there is no nameplate attached to this desirable artifact. “Namjoon, who loaned this? Is there any way I could contact them?”

When he gives you a sad smile, your gut clenches over the possibility that this might be a similar issue to what happened at the auction, a lender who wishes to remain anonymous. The only difference here being that you’ll fight Namjoon for the information if you have to. You’ve already let this book escape from you last year, you refuse to let it happen again. “Please, I’ll-” Just when you are about to plead with Namjoon’s integrity, another memory of your past walks into the room, but this one unfortunately has more tragic ties. “Shit,” you whisper, shifting to put your date between you and the newcomer. 

Namjoon catching the change in your expression immediately reaches out in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There's someone I know just over there,” You nod in the direction behind Namjoon. “I’d like to avoid him if I can. Sorry, it-it’s complicated. ”

 Namjoon puts his hands on your shoulders, eyeing a path the closest exit without letting go of you. “Do you want to leave?”

“If that’s okay?” And just when you thought you were free, when you were ready to make a break for the door. The man in question, spots you and calls out your name.

You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your tone even and your lips pulled into a smile. “Jackson? Hey, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s been so long, not since...” Thankful he stops, not dragging up the subject you wish to avoid. 

Namjoon moves closer, moving his arm from your shoulder around your waist, a comforting and protective gesture. “Dr. Wang... I had no idea the two of you were acquainted.” 

“You know him?” You ask Namjoon, your concern rocketing over what else your date might become privy to. 

“Dr. Wang was the phone bidder. I invited him here tonight to see the work we do.”

“The exhibit was impressive, I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.” Jackson confirms. 

“I should go and let the two of you discuss-” You ready to step away when Namjoon’s hand grabs yours and Jackson calls your name again.

“No reason for you to leave, we should catch up.”

“May-maybe later?” You plead with him fighting back the tears, pushing down the memories his presence drags up. “Sorry I just, I need to go.”

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.  

“Wait.” You can hear Namjoon call behind you. Though you continue to proceed out the exhibit and towards the closest exit outside, breaking into the cold evening air, only to find that he still followed. “Let me call for the car and we can go together.”

You stop in realization that your running will not deter him, he’ll pursue you unless you give him a reason otherwise. “No you should stay, this is your big event, I won’t ruin it for you.”

“Not without you.”

“Please Namjoon,” you beg, adamant that he return. “I don’t belong in there, I don’t fit in and I never will. Even when I try...” The ghosts of your past have a way of finding you and destroying your facade.

“I’ve told you before you belong in there more than anyone else-”

“That’s not true. I can barely keep myself together. I can’t, I can’t go back in, I'm sorry.”

“I don’t understand, what does Dr. Wang have to do with it? Did he hurt you? Did he-”

“No! No, he did nothing of the sort. Jackson was always very kind to me. Don’t let me affect your plans or any arrangement, you should go back and talk to him, I just can't be there.”  

“You think I’m going to just drop you for him, especially when he makes you so uncomfortable? No, I’m leaving with you.”

“Fuck, just... please listen to me. He is a good man, he’s a good doctor, you would be foolish to give up this chance.”

“A good doctor...” Namjoon pauses as a grimace hits his face. “Does he have something to do with your mother?”

“How-How do you know about that?” 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I swear. It's just, when I was first talking to Emma about you, out of concern she opened up about your past... about your mother, about your loss.”  

“She told you?” Aunt Emma, you should have known she would do something like that, god forbid at least one person not know your history. “Then all of this, these past few weeks were they all out of pity?” You should have known, there was no way he would like someone like you. It was all out of sorrow for what you’ve been through.

“Not pity no, I like you, I like you a lot. When Emma said you were pushing her and so many others away... I concealed it out of fear of losing you too. I wanted you to open up about it until you were ready. I was just trying to help you get through this.”

You look up at the museum, drawing a distressing connection between Namjoon’s daily life and you. “Why? You think I’m some abandoned project you rescued from a deceased’s estate? One for you to mend, and later show like an achievement? You should have just left me where I was, instead of breaking me further.”  

   Namjoon’s hands immediately pull back from you. “I never meant to hurt you. Only help you move on, you can’t deny that you are frozen in place. You have so much more potential, but you're living in denial.”

“I live there because it hurts less...” You snap back in fury, as he exposes your painful flaws. “I live there so I can work, so I can help others.”

“But what about you? When will you let someone help you?”

You step away unable to answer his question, turning your back on him you race to the sidewalk to hail a nearby taxi, refusing to let him see a single tear fall. 

Once home, you crawl into bed after throwing the dress to the floor. This was so far from the evening you had hoped it to be, with you instead left alone to ruminate on Namjoon’s words. Despising all the evidence he laid bare against you, turning it over again and again in your mind until your morning alarm startles you out of your stupor. Signalling for the last shift before your break for the holidays. 

...

-Christmas Eve- 

It’s finally here, the worst of all days at the call centre. With your eyes heavy from a lack of rest you take a seat at your desk with an extra large coffee in hand. On your computer you have this morning's team email pulled up, and attached to it a list of de-escalation tactics. You’ll need them today because if people don’t get their package by the end of the routes this evening, there’s no hope for tomorrow morning. 

The call board on your phone is already lighting up like a Christmas tree, but you know those little embers to be fuelled by wrath, fury and unkept promises of delivery dates.   

You try your best to remain calm during the egregious conversations. Offering up tips and tricks to parents who are worried that this will be the year that their child gives up on Santa because your company failed to deliver. 

Your lunch break can’t come soon enough. But when you finally check your own phone it’s littered with texts from Namjoon. Messages of concern, apologies, and the hopes that he will still see you at the wrapping station tonight. He even sent a picture of your abandoned coat and promised to bring it along. 

Fuck, you had completely forgotten about you wrapping shift together. Just one more night, then you can put it all behind you again. If you can just keep your cover for a few more hours then it’ll all be over and Aunt Emma will have what she was promised. 

You send Namjoon a quick message confirming that you will be there, but not promising any more before you head back to your desk. 

The calls get progressively worse with several people using foul language and demanding to speak to your supervisor, you try to talk them down as best you can knowing any call passed on to the higher ups will reflect poorly on your efforts.

Until one woman calling in search of her package finally wears you down, insulting you, your profession, even your family.

“Ma’am I’m sorry but if you continue to speak to be in such a way I am well within my right to disconnect the call.” A desperate bluff, your superiors would rather them end the call than you, you’ve been penalized for it before, and you’ll be damned if it happens again. But unfortunately she calls your hand.

“You will not! I have spent hours on the line trying to reach anyone. The shortsightedness of your company and staff is all too apparent.” 

“It’s the holiday sea-”

 “I know what time of year it is, but it seems your staff doesn’t realize Christmas is tomorrow!” 

“You ordered your package past the guarantee date, we could not insure-”

“Now you listen to me, if there was any form of intelligence in that office you’d be working hard to ensure that all packages make it out before tomorrow morning, but instead you just sit on your ass fielding phone calls and giving excuses so you don’t have to actually go out and do honest labour. You must be the biggest disappointment to your family, not even having a proper job. How can you go home and face them knowing you've left so many without their gifts?”

With the woman's last insult, something inside you finally snaps, giving you the freedom to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long. “I don’t,” you pronounce, building up to take your final shot at both her and your employment. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to let you go, as I’d rather not listen to your nonsensical bitching. So merry fucking Christmas to you ma’am, I suggest you go spend it with your own family if they’re willing to put up with your pompous ass.” You hang up the phone and pull off the headset, refusing to answer the next blinking light that comes on to replace it.

You just sit there looking at it denying the next caller their chance at verbal abuse, and your company's lax policy to protect you from it. The chatter of apologies continue to echo around you as your coworkers press on, but after the years of abuse you can no longer hold it in. Your company always said that this position was a stepping stone to greater things, that opportunities would come you just had to wait a little longer, but after being shackled by circumstances, and no forthcoming higher step to take, you refuse to press on any longer. 

...

You pull into the mall parking lot, far too early for your slot at the wrapping stand, with the contents of your desk now stationed in the trunk of your car. Taking refuge in the women's bathroom cleaning your face of the tears you shed on the way over as you try not to think too much about what you’ve just done. After refusing to concede and admit to any wrong doing you quit, telling them to shove their shitty policies right back where they came from.

Namjoon was right... and with the mall closing early tonight you’ll only have two hours with him, two hours to smooth the tension over and allow for an amicable goodbye while maintaining your cover. 

He’s already waiting for you, with your coat in hand, when you show up. The look of pity that you never wanted to see grace his face directed at you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine... I just would prefer if we didn’t talk about last night. I’m sorry for what I said, and now I just want to let it all go if that’s okay with you?” You smile up at him extending the olive branch.

Namjoon nods looking down at the floor as his hands habitually fold a scrap piece between his fingers. The silence between you is drowned out by the carols echoing down the emptying halls of the mall.

“Didn’t expect it to be so slow.” Namjoon mutters after what seems like an age with no one coming to the stand.

“On Christmas eve? Yeah generally people are home by now, spending time with their-” You force yourself to stop, unable to say a word which will bring sorrow to your heart and loneliness to Namjoon’s.  

 “I’m sorry I can’t do this,” Namjoon interjects. “I want to talk about last night, I need to talk about it.”

“Now is not the time.”

“There’s no one here but you and me. It’s just us, the mall is closing, it's our last shift, if not now when?”

“Anytime but now. The last twenty-four hours have been the worst in my life since-since...” You take a deep breath burying the wave of sadness and regret back down in your chest refusing to let it out. “Please, just forget it okay?”

“Not until you stop shielding yourself like that.” Namjoon scolds you. “I’m tired of you living in fear that your tears will erode your cover, and that your anger will tear it away entirely. I’m tired of you thinking that people will only appreciate you if you maintain this perfectly wrapped state. You might think it’s pretty, that it’s convenient for everyone else, but you are only keeping others out.” 

“Maybe I keep it on so that you won’t be disappointed in what you find when it’s discarded. A sad woman, with no direction, no dreams, unable to cope with loss, and I suppose I can add unemployed to the list now. Is that what you want to see? Is that what you want to find?”

“That’s not all you are... and as for your job, I’m sorry but fuck it. It’s about time you moved on to better things, that place was only holding you back, you deserve so much more.”

“No I don’t, do you want to know why I worked there? Do you? I took that job to make sure she got the care she needed. I promised her when she got better I would quit and find something else, but she never did. But if I leave now I’m accepting the fact that she’s gone... that she doesn’t need me anymore, because I couldn’t do enough to keep her here.” The first tear falls breaking through the long standing divide.

“Staying there wouldn’t have brought her back. Tormenting yourself by remaining frozen in place, won’t bring her back. It’s Christmas for god sake and you are being kind to everyone else but yourself.” 

“This isn’t Christmas for me. If it was, she would be here... not you. I’m tired too. I'm so tired of looking at her chair and- and-”

Namjoon wraps his arms around you pulling you forward as your emotions tear through the shroud. He moves you to the back of the vacant store sitting you among the boxes. “I’ll be right back okay?” You nod, while he tugs the table in and drags the gate down to indicate that you are now closed. When he returns his eyes too are starting to redden. His hands brush through your hair, the side of his palm pressing on your cheek and catching your tears. After seeing one of his own fall you crush yourself against his chest, clinging harder to him than before. His lips touch the top of your head, his hands rubbing on your back and arms as he waits, waits for you to be the first to pull away. The lights for every other store shut off around you the music lowers, all that’s left is the retreating chatter of those going to celebrate the eve of Christmas, and still you hold on to him. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good substitute.” He whispers, encouraging you to finally lean back and admit your denial, accepting his efforts to help, when you yourself wanted to do the same for him. 

“Don’t say that, it was never going to be a happy holiday for me, just something I needed to get past. But for you, I at least wanted to make yours better, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good one either.”

“You never were a substitute. You were the one I wanted to spend the holidays with. A different Christmas than usual but no less enjoyable.” 

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You smile, but you doubt it’s true. “I suppose we should go...” 

“What about all the supplies?”

“Emma will come by in a few days to collect it all.” You grab the small donation from the lock box and seal it in the plastic pouch, while Namjoon rummages through his own bag. “Do you still want a ride home?”

“If you're offering, I would love one.” The flap of his satchel closes as he stops his search and instead goes with you to the bank and finally your car. You hadn’t checked the forecast for tonight so finding your car buried in a few inches of snow comes as an unexpected sight. At least with Namjoon’s help cleaning it off is a quick task.

Once inside you both warm your hands on the sputtering heater, changing them on the wheel as you continue to thaw your fingers while you drive. 

“Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?” Namjoon presses, though hesitant in his tone.

“Maybe look for some jobs, and take a good long nap?” You answer with a dark chuckle, still preferring to miss the entire holiday if you could. “You?”

“No, nothing in mind. But if you wake up and want to come over, you're more than welcome to spend it at my place.”

You return both hands to the wheel as the road becomes more difficult to drive on, your tires slipping here and there on the ice beneath the snow. “I’ll think about it, though depending on how much snow we get tonight we might both be stranded at home.”

You pull through the neighbourhood gates and up Namjoon’s driveway. With the car stopped he once again dives into his leather bag and pulls out a thin rectangular gift he looks to have wrapped himself. Dressed as per usual, with far to many pieces of tape, he hands it over to you. “I know this won’t make up for everything, but I want you to have this. Consider it a very belated Christmas gift.” 

“Belated? But Christmas isn’t until tomorr-” You take the present and succeed in pulling back the wrapping to reveal the book that you were reunited with just the night before. “Oh...” You look up from the cover to find the return of the sad smile on his face you saw in the museum. “But if this is late then, last Christmas, it-it was you? You were the one at the stand... with this?”

...

-One Year Ago-

You are counting down the hours and minutes until the mall closes, until you can pick your mother up from her doctor's appointment and head home, to your promised tradition of putting up the decorations. The past few weeks have been so busy, with work, volunteer shifts, and her treatments at the hospital, you’ve made it all the way to Christmas eve with the tree and ornaments still packed away in boxes, sitting in the corner of your living room since December first. 

Aunt Emma is currently taking your mother’s position at the cashbox, thanks to the scheduling of the last minute check up. You light up your phone again checking the time, only an hour left. 

“You can head out if you want my love,” Aunt Emma offers while swaying and humming to the carols. “It’s quiet enough for me to manage myself.”

You grin embarrassed by your desire for a hasty departure. “No it’s fine. I’m still waiting for the phone call to say she’s done, otherwise I’ll just end up waiting at the hospital.”  

“Suit yourself.” She stands up to look down the halls of the mall. “Oh, I think we might have someone, he’s heading this way. He’s cute too, you should give him your number and put that mother of yours at ease.”

“Aunt Emma, I don’t need your dating-” You look in the direction she was speaking of losing the rest of your words when you find a tall beaming man coming closer to your station.

“If you need me I’ll just be in the back fetching more ribbon.” 

“But we have plenty.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She waves herself off when he makes it to your table.

“Hi,” He greets you with the warmest smile and an even tone. “I was wondering if I could get these wrapped together?” He holds up a bag of gifts which he hands over to you.

“Of course. Any preference on paper?”

“Whatever you think is best, it’s for my mom. Just a bottle of her favourite perfume and something a little more special.”

You open the bag to find a small box containing the fragrance, and the other what looks to be a kids picture book. But what initially seems to be an odd choice for his mother, slams your chest with nostalgia when you see the cover and read the title.

“Koya’s Christmas.” You laugh with delight, you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you examine the artistry. The memories it brings back is enough to make your eyes well with tears.

“You know it?” The man asks, looking pleasantly stunned. 

“Know it? I had it memorized as a child. I loved it so much I couldn't bear it when it was packed away at the end of Christmas each year.”

“Me neither, I flat out refused to let it go, I read it year round to the point where our old copy is currently falling apart on the shelf. Even made snowflakes to put in my windows like he did.”

“That’s right, that scene was one of my favourites. May I?” You gesture asking him for permission to look through it. He nods just as excited as you by the concept of something so sentimental. As you flip through the book you recall the beautiful storyline of a koala living in Australia, one who is so upset that they must celebrate Christmas in the summer, never getting to have a while Christmas described in the songs and shown in the movies. But once Koya talks to the leaves in the trees, and the other small animals of the forest, the realization hits that none of them would be able to stay there if it was cold enough for snow. 

You are so close to tears when you reach the page where the little koala realizes it’s more important to have friends for the holiday than the frozen flurries. Proceeding to stay up all night cutting out perfect snowflakes to hang in the windows for all to enjoy at the family's Christmas Eve party. 

“Where did you find a copy? I’ve looked for so long, I lost my own in the move here.”

“I actually found it by chance, amongst a bunch of rare second-hand books at an auction.” The man itches at the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t be of more help in locating another.” 

“No it’s fine. I’m just glad I got to see it again. I’ll have to tell my own mom that I was lucky enough to see a copy, she loved it as much as I did.” 

You quickly wrap the two gifts in the one sheet as requested. Handing it back to him before you can be tempted enough to make an excessive offer of your own on his mothers gift. 

“Thanks again.” He hands you two twenties for the donation. “My mom usually helps me with the wrapping but I didn’t want her to see this, you’ve made her Christmas.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

When he walks off you notice that he makes several glances back to you, holding a smile each time. 

“So did you get his number?” Aunt Emma pokes her head back out from the stock area. “Maybe his social media, his dick-dock or whatever it is you kids do these days?” 

“No, I did not get his tiktok.” You answer, unable to contain your laughter. “I was distracted by-” You’re ready to defend yourself when your phone starts vibrating on the table, the screen lit up with the number of your mother’s doctor’s office. You answer it, excited to share your account of the book. “Hey mom, you all finished? You’ll never believe what I just wrapped-”

“Sorry dear this is Laurie, I’m just calling on behalf of Dr. Wang’s office. We were hoping you could come by as soon as you can, the doctor would like to meet with both you and your mother before she leaves for the day.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be right down.” You hang up the phone taking a deep swallow of fear, the moment of happiness and nostalgia vanishing with the prospect of the news to come. It’s never been a good sign when they’ve wanted to meet with you both in person. 

Aunt Emma catches on in an instant, pushing your coat on your shoulders and your purse in your hand. “Go, I’ve got this. You give your mother a big hug for me, and I’ll stop by soon to see you.”

...

While you try to relive, to pull back and hold on to, that moment from a year ago, Namjoon nods confirming your suspicions.

You mentally kick yourself for not recognizing him, for not remembering a single thing about him except your connection with the book. But after everything you had gone through, in that night alone, the devastating news regarding your mothers health had blacked out everything else. You took her home that night, trying not to cry, trying to be strong for her. Helping her into bed for some much needed rest, leaving your previous plans boxed up in the corner... where they remain to this very day. And the year only got worse leaving your mind engaged elsewhere, far from the man with the kind smile and similar taste in literature. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

“No, it’s fine, it was a while ago, and I’m the one who should be sorry,” He whispers. “The moment I stepped outside that day, I realized you needed it more than my mother needed a second. I went back, but you were already gone. I was selfish though, rather than leaving it with another, I wanted to be the one to give it to you myself, I wanted to see you, to talk to you again, and so I kept it. I even put it in the exhibit on the chance that you might find it. When I met Emma at the museum and found out that you’d be doing the fundraiser again it seems like fate, but then I heard about what had happened since I saw you last. I realized how foolish I had been, how I had stolen your chance to share it with her before she passed.”

You reach up to your face attempting to wipe away the tears before Namjoon can see anymore, but he catches your hands before you can hide your grief.

“When you saw the book that day, you have no idea the impact it had on me. Watching you react, your emotions so close to the surface. You didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, all you could see was the memory in front of you. I wanted to create that for everyone.”

“Then the museum exhibit-”

“Was a result of my meeting you, my breakthrough idea which got me a chance to curate was thanks to your reaction. I was going to tell you when we were there, why you deserved to be there more than anyone else, but everything fell apart so quickly.” 

“I’m so sorry, I never intended to ruin your night. I just-” You take a deep breath, finally letting out the words you’ve been holding back. “I was scared. Jackson was one of my mother’s doctors, he was always friendly and kind to the point where my mother would joke that he would make the perfect son-in-law. We even went on a date, but when she passed... it was difficult, painful for me to see him again. Finding him there last night, I was so worried you would learn about what had happened, and that you would look at me with the same pity he did, so I ran.” 

“You didn’t ruin it, I deserved what you said for not being more open with you about what I knew. I was scared of losing you. So no more running, no more hiding okay?”

You give him a nod, unable to speak through the tears as you gasp between sobs. He hugs you across the cars divide. “Now will you please come inside? At least for a bit. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t let you go home like this. I have the snowflakes up and everything but we both know it’s not enough without someone else to see them with.” 

You shake your head, now laughing despite the tears, “You really know how to reel me in.”

“I’m just admitting that I don’t want to be alone on Christmas,” He looks at you with a raised brow. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”

...

Namjoon’s house is the very opposite of your apartment, filled with warmth and light, wooden furniture and plants in every corner. The Christmas decorations bring another layer of himself into the fold. As promised, his window pains are full of snowflakes and the sills... you squint at several small blue lumps perched beside the glass. Moving closer you recognize them as clay koalas made by the skill and hands of a much younger age. Namjoon catches you staring at one position in a dozing state. He takes it off the ledge and hands it to you to give a better look. 

“Careful with that one though,” He points to another figure stationed in the corner. “It’s ears like to fall off.” He rolls the round bit of clay out of position chuckling as it exhibits the trait. 

“Did you make these?”

“When I was a kid. My mom held on to them.” Namjoon muses as he continues to fidget with the figurine. “She dropped off a box of decorations before going off to be with my sister and her family.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Me too. But even with all the trimmings and decor here this year doesn’t feel quite normal.” He replaces them both in their rightful positions of honour and gestures to the massive couch behind you. “Make yourself comfortable,” he insists, before wandering off to the joint kitchen. “Is there anything I can get you to drink?” 

“I’ll have whatever you're having.” You take a seat on the monstrous cushions, which ease you in before swallowing you in comfort. Making it easy to see how this beast of a sofa has eaten several of his several earbuds. 

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

He comes round with the drinks and takes a seat beside you. Turning on the television he lets it play with low volume in the background so you might continue your conversation if you wished, but at the same time eases the pressure from you if you’d rather not. 

You smile down at your beverage as the overly dramatic film plays out. Your mind still lingering on the damage that you might have caused with your hasty departure the night before.

“Have you talked to Jackson since, is he still going to loan the sketches?”

“He wants to, he sent me an email today saying so...” Namjoon pauses taking a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around in the can. “He asked if you were okay too. I haven’t responded yet, I wanted to talk to you first and get the full story, rather than speak on your behalf. But it’s clear he has feelings for you, if you told him how you felt, I’m sure you could still work things out if you wanted to.”

“No, I don’t think it’s feelings but his concern. He’s just too good of a person not to worry, and I’m sure his own guilt has a place in there too. Jackson and I never would have worked out, we went on that date, we didn’t have much in common, there was nothing there that I wanted to pursue, not like my time with you.”

Namjoon’s eyes perk open as he smiles. His arm reaches around, pulling you in to lean on his side and shoulder. As the strained plot plays out before you. 

“Why do you insist on watching these.” You ask as your eyes become heavy after a few minutes. Leaning into Namjoon more he lays back putting his feet up and sliding you down with him to do the same. Your head now resting on his chest the deepness of his voice carrying down to your ear. 

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

“Funny and true, but not what I meant. I know they are by no means real, but they have this way of adding to the feeling of the season. I didn’t realize how much of a tradition it has become for me and my family until this year, when watching them alone just felt wrong. The movies were an excuse to sit down with them, to talk and laugh. The other night when I called, it wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to spend the time with you.”

“But why me? You could have anyone, even Valerie seems to-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you helped me achieve something I’ve long dreamed of? You may think this cheesy but at the end of all these films, when everything comes together wrapped in a perfect bow, that’s how I’ve felt in every moment with you.”

“You’re right, very cheesy, but not unwanted.” You look up at him from his chest finding only sincerity in his face. “Now if we’re to continue in this similar Hallmark course of action, I do believe this would be the part where you kiss me again.”

“But I’m just the clumsy lead,” Namjoon jokes. “I’m pretty sure that’s your-” You lean in doing just that, cutting him off and pushing him against the couch as you kiss him. His chest quaking with silent laughter soon turns to rumbling groans as you fulfil the expectation of your role. “Though this would also be the part where I tell you we should wait before giving into temptation.”

Your nose scrunches up in displeasure over the notion of such abstinence. “Then let's omit that line, and go off script for the rest of the night.”

Namjoon takes his turn, flipping you over to push you down onto the plush cushions, where you sink under his weight. “Gladly,” he growls, his mouth trailing down your neck pulling on the collar of your sweater to seek further in. 

Desiring the same you discard your own knit garment, before moving on to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back until he is forced to tear his hands from the sleeves himself and whip it down to the ground. 

Sliding between your thighs he wraps your legs around his back and picks you up off the couch. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he continues to kiss you while you squeal from being lifted into the air. 

“Bedroom?” You ask, excited by the possible prospect.

He nods, looking up at you with a smirk. “If that’s okay? I’d rather not risk losing you to the couch too.”

You giggle at the notion, while Namjoon heaves you up again to get a better grasp, his mouth tucking into your chest. He fumbles for the door now behind you looking as though he might break it open if the knob won’t turn to his grappling grip. You reach back to assist and push it open. The cool air of the room hits you, causing you to cling to Namjoon’s warmth. 

With two more steps you’re lowered onto the bed, where he grips the waist of your pants, unbuttoning and tearing them down your legs. Laying on the edge of the mattress, you watch as Namjoon kneels down between your legs. His hands glide up your bare legs and pause at the tops of your thighs massaging them as he asks to go further. “May I?”

You take his fingers and press them down on the dampening fabric. Namjoon groans and dips the tip of his index below the material peeking inside to find the warmth of your cunt. It’s a pity it’s so dark in the room, you would have liked to see his smile. 

But it seems you're not alone in this desire, as Namjoon gets up and reaches over flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “No more hiding, I want to see you, all of you.” 

“I want that too. I want you.” 

He smiles kissing you with both hands before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. You return the favour by taking off his pants and boxer briefs releasing his erection. Running your fingers down the soft skin of his shaft, curling them around the base. Tilting his cock towards your mouth you take the tip, teasing your tongue on the rim of the head. Namjoon groans in delight, thrusting his hips up, you take it again as far as you can manage, enjoying his reactions to your tongue trails downward, tracing the swelling veins of his dick. With another drag of his cock you release him with the pop of your lips and he reaches down to grip your arms, breathing heavily with closed eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted to see me?” You chuckle at his undoing.

“I do, but I also want to last.” 

“Condoms?” You ask, continuing to stroke his cock while you adjust to straddle his thighs.

“In there.” He mutters, pointing to his bedside table breathless and helpless to your touch. Only looking up when you have to free him to reach for the box and unwrap its contents. His own hands help you to roll it down his shaft. 

You guide yourself down on his cock while Namjoon arches against his pillow and mattress. His fingers tracing up your stomach and ribs. You reach back to unclasp your bra just as he reaches your chest, and lean down into his touch. 

With his firm grip you rock your hips clenching on his dick and grinding your clit on his pelvis. The louder he gets the faster you move, trembling as you chase your own high and pivoting down further. When Namjoon’s hands grip your hips pressing you into him the pressure becomes far too great pushing you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure through you until you collapse on his chest. He holds you in place as he thrusts from beneath, gasping as your climax continues, coaxing you to clench down on him, straining his thrusts until he comes. 

Dotting the side of your face and neck with his lips at a soft and slow pace, he succeeds in forging another smile in your still gasping lips. He tilts you off and beside him in your blissful haze so he may dispose of the filled barrier. When returning to your grasp you cling to him and he you, dragging the covers up and over the both of you.  

“I could get used to this.” You whisper, curling into his warmth. No longer afraid of the emotions that the holiday will bring. Glowing over the prospect of not facing Christmas morning alone, but wrapped together with Namjoon in the sheets of his bed. “Maybe even consider it a new tradition?” You joke with him looking up to witness his smile.

“If that’s a tradition...” Namjoon whispers, coming in for another kiss. “I plan on celebrating Christmas everyday for the foreseeable future.”

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

[tryingmybestpls]

Do Me A Favour (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve Rogers seeks out his ex-teammate (and ex-fiancée) as he tries to gather the team in order to reverse Thanos’s actions, but she isn’t happy to see him. (Part 2, Part 3)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, that’s about it

Steve hadn't seen her in almost four years.

Y/N had left him and the rest of the team a year after the Snap. She didn't say goodbye to any of them, just gathered all of her things and disappeared into the night. Steve didn't realize she had left until he had came back to their shared apartment and saw that all of her things were gone. During those four years, she didn't reach out to him and if she was reaching out to anyone else on the team, they weren't telling him. It was like his teammate had disappeared off the face of the earth. He couldn't be too mad at her. Steve was the reason why she left.

Months after the Snap, he had proposed to her. She had been so excited and her happiness had rubbed off of him slightly. It seemed right, it felt right. Everyone kept telling them that it was about time they finally tied the knot. Yet, as time progressed and the severity of a post-Thanos world settled in, Steve wondered if this was actually a good idea. He didn't want to voice his worries to Y/N though. He missed seeing her this happy so Steve tried to tell himself that this nervousness would soon disappear.

Then the day of the wedding rolled around and Steve couldn't bring himself to drive to the church. His phone kept ringing as various members of the team called and texted him, trying to get a hold of him. As the start of wedding neared, Steve went down to the hall where he holds grief counseling and stayed there until the day ended. When he got back to the apartment, all of her things were gone. The only thing Y/N had left behind was her engagement ring and the wedding dress she had been wearing hours earlier.

Steve pulled up in front of the address that Natasha had given him, nervousness and guilt eating away at him. He was already confused when he pulled into the residential neighborhood, but the house he was currently parked in front of didn't help. Steve double checked and triple checked to make sure that the address was correct before he got out. He walked up the little stepping stones that lead to the cookie cutter house. She had told him that she never ever wanted to live in the suburbs, living in a house that was identical to the ones surrounded them. It was the perfect place for her to hide out.

Never in a thousand years did he think that Y/N would be living in a place like this. As he looked around, eyes landing on the carefully manicured lawn and the flowers planted in flower beds surrounding the house, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. The thought of Y/N being married or even having children made him feel ill. Steve knew that he shouldn't feel like that at all. Y/N wasn't his, never truly ever was his. He was the one that had fucked up everything so he really shouldn't feel like this over the possibly of her being married. Steve looked up at the little cream colored two story house as he walked up the porch steps. There was a swing-like bench on one end, surrounded by various potted plants. It was all very...homey.

Steve tries his best to relax as he stands in front of the door. He swallows hard before ringing the doorbell and knocking on the the red door. Would Y/N still be pissed off at him? Most likely. She wasn't the type to forgive and forget, especially with what he did. Would she be even more pissed when she finds out he's here to try to get her to come back, to try to defeat Thanos? He was probably going back to the Compound in a body bag.

The front door opening ripped him out of his thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asks, only peeking her head of the door. From what he could see of her, she looked good. Y/N always looked good, but the past four years have been good to her. In that last year after the snap, she lost her color. Sure, there would be times where she was happy, but as the wedding date neared and Steve continued to be distant, those moments of happiness were few and far between. Now, she looks happy, healthy. Well, she wasn't happy right now. Steve shifts slightly, looking around in her little neighborhood before looking at back at her. Y/N was glaring at him.

"Can I come in, Y/N? We need to talk." Steve tries and just as she opens her mouth, a child's head squeezes her way through the door and Y/N herself. Y/N's eyes widen and the color seems to drain from her face. Steve feels like he's been shot at the introduction of a child. What if she's moved on, had a family during this time? He would have no one to blame but himself.

"Mama, who's this?" The child asks, practically glaring at Steve. Like mother, like daughter. He didn't know that she had a kid. Natasha didn't tell him that there was a kid involved when she handed him the address, a sad look on the ex-Russian spy's face. Steve knew that she had wanted to go retrieve her friend, but someone had to get Clint. Now, he knew why she was so reluctant to hand over the address. Y/N never even mentioned that she'd ever want kids. She would always brush off the question when Steve would ask, immediately changing the subject. But then again, four years is a long time and people can change. The rest of their team surely did. Y/N muttered a curse under her breath, weighing her options in her mind. Steve is surprised when she opens the door a little more.

"Sarah, this is my coworker, Steve. Steve, this is my daughter Sarah." Y/N introduces them to each other, her hand moving to rest on the back of Sarah's head. The way she says "coworker" made Steve feel like shit, but then again, he does deserve it. He tries his best to ignore it and moves to squat in front of Sarah, smiling at the little girl. Her hair is pulled into two pigtails and she's wearing a black dress covered in white dinosaurs. Sarah is practically a carbon copy of Y/N, down to her hair and features. The only thing that's different about Sarah is her eyes. She has bright blue eyes that seem vaguely familiar, but Steve can't quite place them.

"Hi Sarah. It's nice to meet you." Steve tries, holding out his hand. The little girl moves to hide behind her mother, holding onto Y/N's leg. Steve's smile fades and he puts his hand down, moving to stand back up. Y/N doesn't even bother to look at him as she guides her daughter back into the house.

Steve is greeted by the evidence of her changed life. Children's toys litter the grey colored wood floors and pictures of mother and daughter cover the walls. Not a single picture of his teammate from anytime before the four years she's been gone, but there was pictures of members of the team and her. A picture of Natasha, Y/N, and Sarah here. A picture of Tony, Morgan, Y/N, and Sarah there. No evidence of any sort of father figure. The smell of pancakes and coffee hang in the air. This is a home.

Time travel and Thanos are a million miles from his mind now. All he could think about is that Y/N, the woman he was supposed to marry, has a child.

"No talking business around her. Please." Y/N announces as she walks further into the house, Sarah following hot on her heels. The blonde wonders if someone had tipped her off that someone from the team was coming or maybe she just knew him too well and knew that he wasn't here for personal reasons. Either way, Steve feels the immense tension hanging in between them and gives mother and daughter both a little space as he takes in the house. It looked almost normal.

"Of course." Steve replies as he follows them into the kitchen. Sarah is already sitting at the island, looking at him as her mother sets a plate down in front of her. Steve stands beside the fridge, leaning slightly on the wall. He doesn't know exactly what to do, everything feels awkward. Y/N has a kid. Y/N has a kid.

"Sarah, it isn't polite to stare. Now eat your breakfast." Y/N scolds softly, no anger present in her voice as she speaks to the child. Sarah turns her attention to her mom as she picks up her fork.

"I sorry, Mama. 'teve eat?" The little girl asks and Y/N glances at Steve, who is smiling at how the little girl pronounced his name. His smile melts away as soon as he meets Y/N's eyes Anger is still deeply etched into her face, no matter how much she tries to mask it.

"I'm okay, Sarah. Thank you for asking though." Steve quickly fills in and Sarah nods, seemingly pleased with his answer. Y/N crosses the room, moving past her old teammate to go over to the living room. She turns on the tv, switching the channel from the news to some cartoon. A distraction.

"Baby, Steve and I are going to my office, okay?  If you need anything, come get me." Y/N tells her daughter. Sarah just nods in response, her focusing going to the mess of bright colors and shapes on the television. Y/N motions her head for Steve to follow her as she walks out of the room and down the hall. She opens a door, flipping on a light. This is room is a sharp contrast to the rest of the home. It's cold and uninviting. Big, flat white cabinets line the walls, filled with God knows what. Steve wants to smile at her 'home office' because it's like she brought her weapons room from the Compound home with her.

But the look she is giving him keeps the smile off his face. Y/N's about to open her mouth, to question him no doubt, but Steve cannot help what flies out of his mouth. He just has to ask.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a kid, Y/N?" The Captain questions, his eyes softening as he looks at his ex-fiancée. Y/N leans against the table in the center of the room, crossing her arms over her chest. She no longer trying to mask her anger.

"You weren't in my life, Rogers. Why would I tell you that I had a child if we aren't speaking?" Y/N retorts, shrugging her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal. They both know that this is a huge, colossal deal. There's stomach acid in Steve's throat and he feels like he's going to throw up as he forces out his next question. He is dying to know, but he dreads the answer.

"Who-"

"Don't ask me that." Her voice is ice cold as she shakes her head, "Please, don't ask me that."

That's when it slowly starts to dawn on Steve. He swallows the bile down in his throat as he takes a step towards her. Her angry facade is cracking as tears brim her eyelids. Her carefully built world is crumbling down around her and there isn't a thing she could do about it.

"Y/N, how old is she? Just-Just tell me how old she is." Steve's practically begging as Y/N looks away. She's fiddling with the necklace she has on, moving the pendant side to side on the rose colored chain. It feels like an eternity before she decides to speak again.

"Three. Sarah-She's three." Y/N finally speaks, looking back at him. It's like Steve's heart shatters in his chest and he has to lean against the wall for support. Steve Rogers isn't as smart as the others on his team and math has never been his thing, but it doesn't take him long to do the math in his head.

"Were-Were you ever going to tell me?" Steve asks as Y/N chuckles drily. The smile that's on her face doesn't reach her eyes.

"Of course I was and then you left me at the altar. Forgive me for not wanting anything to do with after that." Her tone was full of bitterness as she looks at him, "I was going to tell you that day-God, I was so fucking excited and then you just didn't show up. That's when I realized your priorities were greatly skewed and that you didn't really care about me anymore."

"That-That's not true, Y/N." Steve starts and the woman scoffs.

"Really, Rogers? You weren't even fucking talking to me anymore. You only came to me when you wanted to relieve a little stress. Why you asked me to marry you is besides me." She snaps, her words full of poison, "I wasn't about to bring a kid into the mix."

"So what? You were just going to hide away here forever? Never tell me that I had a kid?" Steve responds, motioning to the door. He's clearly angry at the woman in front of him. Y/N chuckles.

"You know what hurt the most about you leaving me at the altar? You didn't even call. There was no "Hey babe, I realized I don't want to be bound to you by law, hope you understand!". Three fucking hours passed before I finally realized that you weren't coming. By then, Natasha had already hunted you down and saw that you were at one of your meetings, acting like you had nothing else to do that day." Y/N tells him as she runs a hand through her hair, "But sure, go ahead and be mad at me because I didn't tell you I was pregnant. Be mad because I left because you apparently did nothing wrong."

"Look I'm sorry-" A knock on the quickly cut him off. Y/N sent a glare his way before walking past him and opening the door. Steve watched as she squatted so she was at eye level with her-their daughter. Steve looked at Sarah, trying to memorize her face just in case this is the last time he sees her. Blue eyes that resemble his glance at him for a moment before they return to look at Y/N.

"Mama? Help?" Sarah asks, her outstretched hands covered in something sticky. The smile that Y/N gave the little girl made something rise in Steve's chest. Neither of them glance at Steve as Y/N leads her back towards the kitchen, leaving the Star Spangled Man With a Plan alone in the room. He did not know what to do with all of this information. Steve had a child, a daughter. A little girl who was fifty percent him and fifty percent Y/N. He knew he had fucked up, but didn't realize he had fucked up this bad. Steve was numb as he walked out of the pristine room, walking down a hall full of pictures of Y/N and their daughter. He leans against the wall as he watches the two of them.

"How did you get this sticky, baby? I gave you a fork." Y/N teases softly, lifting up Sarah so she can wash her hands in the sink. The little girl giggles and Steve thinks it's the best sound in the whole world.

"I sorry, Mama. 'ticky." Sarah responds, which makes Y/N laugh. Steve can't help but smile at the sight in front of him. His head quickly becomes filled with thoughts of "what if". It's not until he feels something tug on his hand, yanking him out of the various scenarios running through his head. Sarah's tiny hand is wrapped around two of his fingers. His heart swells in his chest and he suddenly understands why Tony was willing to give up everything for Pepper and Morgan. He wishes he had made the same decision.

"Go to park?" Sarah questions, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. Steve is at a loss for words and he looks up at Y/N for some sort of help. Y/N is still drying her hands off as she clears her throat.

"Sarah, I don't think Steve wants to go to the park with us. He has to go back to work." The woman tries, walking towards the two of them. Sarah looks disappointed, pouting and making a noise. Y/N glances at Steve, once more weighing the options in her mind.

"I-I have enough time. I'd love to go to the park with you-If your mom is okay with it." Steve responds and the little girl turns to look at her mom. Y/N's features soften and she nods.

-

"Tony called before you arrived. Said you're trying to create time travel." Y/N announces as they sit beside each other at the little park that was in her neighborhood. Sarah is running around, laughing loudly. Steve glances at the woman beside him. She knew why he had showed up on her porch but still had let him in. Y/N had every right to not let him in, to not even answer the door. Hell, she didn't have to tell him that Sarah was his, but she did.

"Yeah. Lang is pretty sure we can do it. We just need to get the team back together." Steve replies, to which Y/N just nods. Her eyes stay on Sarah, never letting the little girl out of her sight. Steve turns his head to look at his daughter, who is currently sliding down a slide as he continues, "But I understand if you don't want to. Things have...changed."

"If we have a chance to fix things, I want to be there." Y/N responds, fiddling with the necklace she was wearing. Worry was written all over her face and Steve regrets even coming out here try to get her to join them. Her eyes stay on Sarah as she runs around, "If something happens to me, you have to tell her dressed in the suit."

"W-Why?" He is confused at her request, but he wasn't going to tell her no. Steve doesn't even try to tell her that everything is going to be okay if she joins them. They both know the risks involved with their job and he'd be lying if he told her that this was going to be an easy mission. For the first time since they got to the park-Hell for the first time in four years, she turns to him and smiles.

"Because Sarah knows that her daddy is Captain America and she's been dying to meet him."

[brelione]

Love and Hate (The Best Boys)

dude come on. you said you’d upload the next chapter on christmas and now it’s been a whole week after and it’s still not out. :(, hi! when are you posting the next chapter of tbb??, tbb????, Are you posting the next chapter of best boys soon? I miss her, when will you be posting the next part of the best boys series??, Ok I’m over TBB I’m just gonna say she ends up with Blah Blah and they live happily ever after, the end. Thank you for the amazing read, it has been fun❤️, TBB is literally the last series I have to finish before I can finally peace out of the shithole that is the OBX fandom for good but like no rush or anything baby❤️,When do you think you’ll be posting the last chapters of TBB?, Hey queen how’s the writing for best boys going, 

Series Masterlist

SHES HEREEEE

Yes, im aware this chapter is all over the place. I went through writing four different versions of this chapter and this is the one that I decided to go with. I know that this one is kind of a little ahfioshviowenvionae but it all comes together next chapter (I already started writing the next chapter). Im so sorry that this is so late. I’ve been having issues for a little bit. My grandfather and my dog passed away and I recently had a relapse and I think that’s why it was taking me so long. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3

Warnings:Nothing really, swearing and unedited. Also im sorry if you dont like this chapter but like....yeah.

You were awoken to the sounds of screaming.Topper ended up at the foot of the bed, Kelce still clinging onto you.Rafe was absent from his spot but the mattress was still warm and had a slight dent which let you know that he hadnt been gone long.

You had spent most of the night trying to find the perfect spot on the mattress, one arm thrown over kelce and your heel against the back of Toppers thigh.It seemed like it hadnt been a super long time since the sun had risen which meant that it was probably around seven in the morning by now.

Your heart was thumping in your chest, trying to pay attention to what the voices were shouting.Something about a mess and irresponsibility but you couldnt hear much besides that.Rafe stomped up the stairs, opening his door.He was shirtless, face red from yelling and his eyes slightly watery.You sat up, making Kelce grumble.

 Rafe’s jaw was slightly dropped, his nose beginning to run and his body trembling.“Hey, what happened?”You asked, gaining Kelce’s attention.Topper’s eyes opened slightly, looking over at Rafe.The tall boy didnt say anything, he just dragged his feet across the room and sat back on the bed, mumbling.You were hesitant to grip his hand, squeezing lightly.

He just stared at a wrinkle in the blanket but the sound of something breaking downstairs told you that it had been more than just bickering.Kelce was worried, knowing that his parents had gotten home late last night and would see the mess he had created. “He doesnt want me living here anymore.”Rafe spoke up, a few tears rolling down his cheeks.

You pulled him closer to you, arms around his shoulders as he sobbed, your fingers rubbing against the back of his neck.He squeezed you tightly when he head footsteps coming up the stairs, silently praying to any god that would listen that it wouldnt be Ward.Kelce’s phone kept buzzing but he ignored it, knowing exactly what it was.

He knew that it was coming and he would be lying if he said that he didnt expect it, nervous the whole night as he waited for his phone to blow up.“What are you gonna do?”Topper asked.As much as you wanted to scold him for asking that when Rafe clearly didnt want to talk about it it was still something that you had also been wondering.

Rafe didnt answer, taking in a deep, shaky breath that hurt his ribs before picking up his head and looking over to his friend. “I dont know.”He admitted.His voice hurt your heart, the realisation kicking in that there wasnt really many places that he could go.

Kelce’s phone buzzed again, all of your eyes falling on him.He sighed, glancing at his screen.He had missed calls from his parents, dozens of text in all caps telling him to come home immediately. “They found the door.”He replied, keeping his voice calm.A new wave of silence washed over the room, not knowing what to say to that.

Your eyes watered as you remembered how simple life was a few weeks ago, all of you eating breakfast, watching criminal minds and laughing as Topper recorded it all on his snapchat.Now everything was completely falling apart.You didnt say anything, trying to think of a solution.Rafe couldnt go to Kelce’s house or Topper’s house since Topper’s mother had one of those security cameras outside of her home and she’d recognize him immediately.

She was still pissy about Topper’s accident, she’d explode if he let friends over. “SO what happens now?”Topper asked.You were all out of ideas.A simple drive or icecream or a movie couldnt solve any of this. “I mean...think about it.We’re adults, right?Child protective services cant stop us if we leave.”Kelce muttered.Rafe nodded, snapping his fingers.

 “Yeah, yeah!You’re right.”He agreed, causing your eyes to widen.They were acting insane. They couldnt be serious about just getting up and leaving forever, right? “No, no hes not.We cant just-we cant just leave!”You exclaimed.They were actually going crazy.How could they even think like that? “Why?What do you have here, (Y/N)?”He asked.You paused, thinking about it.

You didnt really have anything.You had your house of course but other than that you had nothing but memories and your boys.You didnt want to admit that he was right, letting out a quiet sigh. “But leaving forever isnt the answer.”You muttered.Rafe rubbed your back, shaking his head. “Doesnt have to be forever, baby.”He answered. 

“But- but just cause we arent kids doesnt mean we cant be registered as missing people.They’ll come after us.”You told them.You knew that nobody outside of this room actually cared about you enough to report you as missing but you were scrambling through your thoughts, desperately hunting for a reason to stay on the shitty island that you had learned to love so much.Topper shrugged, not really caring. 

“Guys, guys. Okay, look. You’re all fucked, ill admit it. But thats fine! Are you guys forgetting that I still have a house- you guys can just stay there until this whole thing blows over just like you always have!”You reminded them, hoping they’d agree. “This isnt gonna blow over, (Y/N). I cant come back here.”Rafe told you, becoming aggravated. 

“THEN MOVE IN! All of you guys, you can just move in, okay? You dont have to leave- I still have my moms money! We’ll figure it out as we go and…. And it’ll be fine.”You insisted. “Move in with you?”Rafe asked. You nodded, wiping your nose. “You practically live with me already, it wont be that different.”You told him, gripping his hand.

 It was a messy blur as Rafe packed his things, grabbing anything that he thought could be important. A photo of his mother, his birth certificate and diploma, laptop and ipad, the Frozen ll record. Kelce and Topper just watched, neither of them ready for anything like this so early in the morning. 

Maybe if you werent so tired and upset you wouldnt have said it, but here you were in Rafe’s truck, a dufflebag full of his things at your feet with the boys in the backseat as he drove to your house, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as the thoughts finally took over his brain. Kelce had got aggravated and shut down his phone entirely, staring out the window. 

The last thing you were expecting was to come down your road only to see a car that was practically falling apart already in your driveway, a tall man with his hands over his forehead as he tried to look in your windows. “What the fuck….”Rafe muttered, reaching for the door handle when you gripped his hand. “Dont, we dont know what he’s doing.”You told him, hoping he’d listen.

 Turns out he wasnt the one you had to worry about, Kelce swinging his door open and sprinting up your driveway before anyone could even stop him. Wherever Kelce went Topper went, the boy struggling to get the seatbelt over his cast before jumping out of the truck and nearly falling into a puddle. “ESCUSE ME! MR SIR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING LOOKING IN MY HOUSE?”Kelce shouted, purposely making his voice deeper.

 The man turned, confused as to why two half asleep teenage boys were walking towards him. “Your house?”The man asked. “Yes, sir. You ever heard of a gay couple before?”Topper asked, making Kelce break character for a moment. 

“Well, no, its not that. Its just that I thought this was someone elses house.”The man muttered, confused. You had slid down your seat, hoping that the man wouldnt see you. “He’s about to leave.”Rafe whispered. 

“Who’s the other guy in the car?”The man asked, pointing to Rafe’s figure. Kelce glanced over at Topper with wide eyes, trying to think. “Our son.”Kelce replied, cringing the moment he said it. The man only looked more confused, looking between the two boys. “How old are you guys?”The man asked, clearly not buying their story. 

“Excuse me? Are you saying that we’re too old to have a son? I did not spend years training for a medical degreee to have some random old man come and tell us how old our son can be!”Topper exclaimed.  “I didnt spend years trying to find a surrogate and figuring out a way to make a robot nanny for this!”He sighed, trying his best not to smile.

“Could you please leave the property before we call the police?”Kelce asked. The man was beyond confused at this point, quickly making his way to his shitty car before slowly backing out of the driveway, eyes still scanning the area before he gave up and went down the street. 

You let out a sigh of relief, moving to get up when Rafe placed his hand on top of your head to keep you down. “Hes coming around again.”He whispered to you, taking in a shaky breath and holding it in his lungs as the car passed a second time. Topper and Kelce were standing by the door, staring at Rafe almost as telling him to get out and make a run for it.

 “Open the door in 3...2…”You didnt wait, jumping out and running towards the house, typing in the key pad as quick as you could, Topper’s hand pushing you inside. “Here he comes again!”He exclaimed, coming in right behind you along with the others before Rafe slammed the door shut and locked it, letting out a laugh.

 “Oh god, that was scary.”He chuckled. Kelce and Topper nodded as well, eventually laughing. “Was that my dad?”You asked. “Maybe.”Topper answered. Now that you thought about it, your dad didnt same important. Nothing did. You lived on a huge rock that’s floating around space and you’re concerned about your dad when your boyfriends best friends are moving in.

 “What’d you tell him?”You asked. “We told him that we’re a gay couple, Topper’s a doctor and Rafe is our child.”Kelce replied. You giggled, snorting. “I mean, as you should.”You replied. “Hell yeah.”Kelce grinned. Topper tapped at his arm. “Bro, you wanna get married?”Topper asked. Kelce laughed again, nodding.

 “I’ll get baptised and get you guys married!”Rafe volunteered, all of you turning to look at him. “Did you just say baptised?”Kelce asked. Rafe nodded, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that not the right word?”He asked. Topper shook his head. “The word is ordained.”He informed the tall boy. “He’s trying his best.”You replied, sitting down on the chair that you werent used to sitting in. 

“You think he’s gonna come back?”You asked. Topper groaned, sitting down. “Well, I hope not. I dont want my husband and I to have to fight him.”He grinned. You rolled your eyes, changing positions in the chair. “Did he look like me?”You asked, leaning your head against the arm rest, groaning when Rafe pushed your legs aside and sat down with you.

 “Not really… he had rat tails for eyebrows.”Kelce replied, putting his fingers over his eyebrows. “Do I have rat tail eyebrows?”You asked, grinning when Rafe reached forward and poked your eyebrow, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You wish.”He replied. “Fuck off.”You answered. “Dont be fucking rude.”He grinned, kissing you quickly before pulling away with a small smile. 

You were shocked, trying to hide your surprise. It wasnt like you werent used to kissing Rafe by now, it was just that he had never done it in front of the boys before. They looked nearly as confused as you, the thought of Rafe kissing you in front of them never even being a concern until now. They were used to him getting most of your love and attention but that had just stirred something within them. 

“So how are we gonna do this? I dont know about you guys but im not going back to my house anytime soon.”Kelce announced. Rafe lifted his head, looking over to the boy. “You could always sneak in your own window to grab your things...maybe wait until theyre at work. What about you, Top?”Rafe asked, turning his attention to the blonde boy. 

“What do I have at my house that I need? Like, really need.”He asked, grinning when none of you could answer. “Problem solved.”He replied. “What time is it?”Rafe asked, breaking the silence. “Ten.”Kelce replied, closing his eyes as he leaned against the couch. “Im going upstairs to take a nap then.”Topper yawned, slowly making his way down the hall into the first floor guest room. 

It was arguably the worst since it also worked as your moms office, a queen bed pushed into the corner. You wiggled out of Rafe’s grip, smiling when he whined. You went into the kitchen, grabbing a poptart. For the situation you felt rather calm, opening the silver package and taking a bite of one of the sweet pastries. 

The energy in the house felt different than it had yesterday. You werent sure why, maybe it was just the comfort of knowing that the boys were going to be living with you now and you wouldnt have to worry as much about Rafe or Topper’s relationship with his mom. 

“So how are we gonna handle this?”Kelce asked, confusing you. “The house, I mean. You have this whole house and like...30 million dollars. We can literally redecorate however we want, maybe even clean out your moms office if youre okay with it.”He suggested. 

You nodded, the idea of getting the memory of your mother cleansed from your life sounded appealing. His excitement took over as he opened his amazon prime app, looking for new decor. “How do you feel about your moms room?”He asked, not wanting to push your limits. You shrugged, swallowing part of the pastry. “Shes not using it.”You replied, surprised by how morbid you sounded. 

He simply nodded, shifting in his seat as he added things to his cart. “Can we redo your room? It’s been the same color since we were fourteen.”Rafe suggested. You shrugged, not really caring. You didnt spend a large amount of time in your bedroom anyways. You scrolled through your phone for a few minutes, seeing a little red bubble next to your messaging app that let you know that you had gotten a text. Curious, you opened it. 

As soon as you saw who it was a pit grew in your stomach, eyes widening. It was her. “Sweet words, (Y/N).”The text read. You knew that it was your uncle just trying to mess with you but it still caused your anxiety to skyrocket, deciding to block the number and place your phone between your thighs, taking in a deep breath through your nose. 

Topper dragged his feet, coming out of the room with a frown. “That’s the most uncomfortable bed in all of history.”He muttered, sitting down on the couch instead. “You can go upstairs.’You reminded him, feeling your phone buzz against your inner thigh. 

He just hummed, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “How long was I in there?”He asked. “Literally not even ten minutes.”Kelce replied, still scrolling. “Did I miss anything?”Topper asked. You didnt reply, breaking off another piece of the poptart. “We’re gonna redecorate the house.”Kelce answered. Topper nodded, lifting his head.

 “Does that mean that office too?”Topper asked. You nodded, staring at a spot on your carpet. “Does that mean we get to open the file cabinet in the guest room?”He asked, all of you looking over at him. The thought made you feel nauseous. Even if she wasnt here to yell at you you knew that opening the file cabinet would still scare you anyways. 

“If theres a dead body in there I swear to god-”You muttered, earning a chuckle from Rafe. “A body couldnt fit in there.”he replied, making your eyebrows furrow. “How do you know where bodies can fit?”You asked. “No, no. Like, its not….well...maybe a raccoon body.”He admitted. “Rafe!”You exclaimed, smacking his thigh. 

He rolled his eyes, pulling you into his lap. “There’s no raccoon body.”He answered. “I think theres a raccoon body.”Kelce replied. “Theres not.”You answered. Topper grinned, skipping into the room and beginning to open the cabinet, the three of you following him. “Okay, who votes raccoon body?”He asked, his hand on the knob. 

Kelce raised his hand, grabbing your arm to make you hold your hand up as well. “Ready?”Topper asked before pulling the door open, looking into it. His face fell immediately, not expecting this. “What?”You asked, stepping past Kelce and looking into the cabinet.Guns were being held by small metal pieces, multiple clear bags full of plants and needles on the floor, bullets on sashes hanging with the guns.

 The two of you just stared, ignoring Rafe and Kelce until they came up behind you, equally as confused. “What the fuck?”Rafe asked, seeing the bags. Kelce slammed the doors shut, locking it. “We’re not telling anyone about this, right?”He asked, looking at all of you. “What are we gonna do with all that? We cant just keep it here!”Topper argued. 

Rafe shrugged, resting his elbow on your shoulder. “We smoke the weed and throw the guns in the river, obviously.”Rafe answered. “We’re not smoking weed, Rafe.”You answered. “Well your mom didnt have a liscense to carry, right?”Kelce asked. You shook your head, figuring it would be hung up somewhere in the house to remind you of the power she had.

 “Right, okay. So we cant call the cops and we cant keep it here.”Kelce answered, clicking the lock on the cabinet. “What’d your mom even do for a living?”Topper asked. You frowned, thinking back. You never really knew what your mother did, you just stayed quiet and hoped you wouldnt make her angry. She’d disappear for months, money would appear in your bank account, she’d pay the bills aned thats all you needed to know. 

She’d have long phone calls with people in her office, grounding you if you even dared to listen. “I dont know.”You replied, cringing at how stupid you sounded. “She has these cabinets all over the house, doesnt she?”Kelce asked. “The one in her room is actual files.”You told him, hoping that there were no sorts of hidden things in her room.

 “Should we go check?” Rafe asked, out of the room with a grin before any of you could even answer. You sighed, slightly annoyed that he was treating this like a scavenger hunt. “Its been here this whole time, im sure nothings gonna happen.”Kelce assured you, patting you on the shoulder before his fingers tickled your arm and wrist, gripping your hand and bringing you upstairs. 

“I ordered some tapestries, succulents, fake vines and some new blankets for our new movie room.”He told you, nearly slipping up. “Movie room?”You asked, nearly slipping on the stairs. “Your mom has a big tv, I figured it could be like a second living room if you’re comfortable with that.”He answered, pausing at the top of the stairs so he could wait for you. 

Rafe was in your mother’s room, carefully pulling on the drawers, eventually finding out that the top one was locked. He looked over at you, silently asking if you knew where the key was. You shook your head, letting go of Kelce’s hand and opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. 

Your mother kept most of your medical documents and anything like that to herself along with basically everything that proved you existed. Baby photos, ultra sounds, old school tests. “We could just move it into the other guest room.”Rafe muttered, hoping he wasnt making you upset. You ignored him, looking through all the little colored tags, your eyes falling on a silver tag, your eyebrows furrowing. No other ones had that color. 

You picked it up, sitting down and reading it over. The words were all bundled together, ink scratches and smudges told you that it wasnt a serious document. The only word you could make out was ‘arsonist’. Nothing else was eligible. “Can we take it right now?”You asked, placing the paper on the floor and closing the drawer. Rafe nodded, Kelce grabbing one side while Rafe grabbed the other. Topper grinned, leaning against your mothers unused desk.

 “I would help but my arms broken.”he laughed, watching as Kelce struggled, walking backwards. “Some moral support would be great.”Kelce rolled his eyes. You grinned, slowly clapping. “Great job, guys. You’re doing great moving that illegal file cabinet.”You held back a laugh. They turned carefully, shuffling as they eventually got to the guest bedroom.

 “How do you feel about this?”Topper asked, sitting down on the chair. You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, you know. Its not that I dont love the idea of you guys being here but like… its the circumstances.”You answered, sighing when he pulled you closer with his good arm, rubbing your back. “Thanks a lot for this, though. Like in all seriousness im really grateful that you’re in my life.”He blushed, looking up at you. You smiled, kissing his nose lightly.

 “I mean, I do provide you with half of the drama in your life.”You giggled, kissing him gently. “Where does the other half come from?”He asked. You shrugged, sighing. “Probably you.”You answered. “I cant believe you’d say that to me! You know im at a bad place in life and you put me in this terrible situation when you know that!”He fake cried, bursting into laughter. 

“Kourtney dont laugh at me!”You exclaimed. You felt a vibration under your feet, hearing a loud, dramatic sigh and the sound of skin colliding. They had successfully moved the file cabinet, the door closing as their loud footsteps hit the floor as they entered your mother’s room again. Rafe took a moment to look around, sometimes forgetting that the room even existed. 

It was the biggest room in the house, the ceiling going up at least twenty feet with only glass separating the room from the outside world. His mind wandered, thinking of all the fun nights the two of you could have in here watching the stars or listening to the rain.

 The bed was large and still, the blankets and sheets unwrinkled and untouched. He understood why you were creeped out by the house now, feeling like he didnt belong in the room. You all took turns trying to figure out what the writing said, eventually deciding that it probably wasnt even in english. “Should we put it through google translate?”Rafe asked, staring at the paper. 

Kelce shook his head. “Nah, its not reliable. I tried using it for spanish class in freshman year and I got detention.”He replied. “Well thats definitely not spanish. Maybe its like…. Ancient text.”Topper suggested, causing you to frown. “I highly doubt that my mother would know an ancient text. 

Maybe we should just leave it.”You answered. Although you werent exactly satisfied with it you just didnt feel like spending your time trying to decode a random paper. They didnt seem satisfied either but didnt want to push you, putting the paper down on the desk where it would be safe from your footsteps. 

Of course the boys just couldnt stay at the same place for long periods of time, deciding to suggest that you guys go out to a store to get some paint for the boring walls. You agreed, the four of you getting into your car instead of Rafe’s truck, locking all the doors and windows before you left. 

Kelce didnt suggest a McDonalds run which caused you to frown, knowing that he was probably too stressed to want to eat. You guys went into Walmart with one goal, heading right for the paint section and looking at the wall of colors. “Lets get four colors and kind of just make it up as we go.”Kelce muttered, looking at all the different shades.

 “We could all pick one out.”Topper suggested, reaching forward and picking a bright green. You agreed, picking a shade of light purple, watching as Kelce picked the color toffee biscuits and Rafe went for cotton blue. You doubted any of the colors would actually look good together but that wasnt the point of the project. 

It was more about making the room look fun rather than nice. Kelce grabbed a few large paint brushes, the four of you leaving before you could get distracted by anything that you didnt need. Topper decided to get right to work, spilling some paint on the floor as he dragged the brush along the wall, creating bright stripes.

 “I have an artistic vision! Trust the process!”He exclaimed, feeling your judgemental eyes on him. You didnt say anything, watching Kelce struggle to connect his phone to your speaker, playing the first song on his playlist. 

Line without a hook. Topper looked over at you, almost like he was silently asking you if you had told the boys about his top secret playlist. You shrugged, not wanting to give anything away to the others.

 “Oh my god, I love this song.”Rafe dunked his brush in the light blue, making a smiley face on the wall. “Can I paint an onion?”He asked. You raised your eyebrows, not understanding why he wanted to put an onion on the wall. 

“Ogres are like onions! We have layers!”Kelce laughed. “Who is we? Are you an ogre, Kelce?”Topper asked, not taking his eyes off of the bright stripes, painting a circle on the top. “Topper Harry Katherine Thornton, are you painting a penis on my wall?”You asked, connecting the dots. 

He grinned, ignoring you. “Of course not.”He replied, painting frantically so that you couldnt stop him, green drops rolling down the wall. You picked up your paint brush, painting two circles quicklly before pushing the brush into the center of each, laughing to yourself.

 “Guys, really?”Rafe asked. “Cant we make the wall wholesome?”He asked. You shook your head, a smile on your face. “Says you of all people, Rafe.”You shook your head. “She got you there.”Topper replied, dragging the brush across the painting and blending it out so there was no longer a penis on your wall. 

“What are you doing now?”You asked, wanting to one up him. “What are you doing now?” He mocked you. Somehow you ended up splashing Topper with paint and getting tackled into the mattress as he held the paintbrush over you, trying to get the bright green liquid on your face while you held his arm back. 

“Im gonna murder you!”You laughed, rolling over under him so your face was against the mattress. “Im gonna paint your hair!”He laughed, holding the brush just above it. “Topper, dont mess with her hair.”Kelce took the brush away. 

Topper groaned, falling next to you on the mattress. His eyes were closed, the sun from the window casting a beautiful glow over his face, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, your arm resting on his torso. 

It didnt take long for painting to be forgotten, a few cheap bristles sticking to the wall with messes of colorful lines and unfilled shapes. The song changed, followed by a loud gasp from Rafe. “This is my favorite song!”He smiled, hitting his knees with his fists repeatedly. 

He didnt know what about it made him so happy, whenever he heard it it reminded him of you guys. “You know what we should do?”Topper asked. “No.”Kelce replied while Rafe rewinded the song to listen to his favorite part again. 

“We should make soup. Like, spicy soup with potatoes.”He replied, mouth watering. “We could just order soup.”Kelce replied, not in the mood to go downstairs and hunt for ingredients. “Order soup from where?”Topper asked. Kelce simply shrugged, shifting around and putting his arms under his body.

That had been a week ago. Since then a lot had happened. You guys had developed a system, Kelce could do his laundry on Saturdays, Rafe on Mondays and Topper’s just got mixed in with yours.

 It was a love and hate relationship to have them there with you. You didnt regret your decision but sometimes things would get difficult. Grocery shopping was the worst since nobody could decide what they wanted and you had all agreed not to eat out as much. 

“We need an actual meal, we cant just eat chips for everything.”Topper would grumble, realising he didnt even really know how to cook. That just lead to late flights of searching for recipes o pinterest and watching Gordon Ramsey tiktoks until they decided to try and make bake and shake chicken. That didnt really work out well, having to open all of your windows and get the smoke out of your house. 

Then you guys decided to take a new approach, finding a ton of frozen pizzas and ingredients for sushi. Kelce was the only one who had any idea of what he was doing since he had always been talented in the kitchen, specifically with breakfast. That became more of a safe meal for you guys, making extra food in the morning to eat later for dinner until you got sick of toast, eggs and bacon. 

Kelce ended up banishing you all to the pool so that he could decorate properly, vines hanging from the door ways and landscape tapestries hanging in your living room, hallway and your mother’s old bedroom. “How long do you think he’s gonna be?”You asked, floating on your back in the shallow end, letting out a yelp when Topper grabbed you and dragged you to the deep end. 

“I dont know, probably like three days.”He replied, finally letting go once you were in the middle of the pool. “We could survive three days in the pool.”You replied, watching Rafe shake his head. “With my allergy to the sun?”He asked, making you turn over, going underwater for a moment. “You dont even sunburn.”You told him, splashing water in his direction before swimming away quickly so that he couldnt get back at you.

 Kelce kept getting calls from his parents that were asking him to come home but he never did. They knew where he was, if they wanted him back so badly they’d drive over and take him away. “Guys, i’ve finished my creation.”Kelce announced, coming outside. “So we can come in now?”Topper asked, gripping the ledge of the pool and pulling himself out, falling onto his stomach as he struggled to get up.

 “Yes, you can come in now! Hurry!”Kelce yelled excitedly before going back inside, waiting impatiently for you guys to hurry. Rafe helped you out of the pool, tossing you your towel so that you wouldnt trail water through your house. “Guys! Come on!”Kelce shouted again, the three of you walking across the hot pavement quickly.

 “I’ll clean up the water after- just come see what I did!”He said again. You rolled your eyes, walking into the house. Goosebumps formed on y0our skin from the cool air, eyes widening as you looked at the kitchen. He had bought a plaid tablecloth for the table, vines hanging from the ceiling and doorways, a tie dye tapestry hanging in your living room. It looked like he had taken the time to wipe down every surface and vacuum any mess of broken spaghetti or eggshells that had been kicked under the fridge.

 “Do you like it?”He asked, unable to read your shocked expression. “Kelce, im gonna be honest with you. I feel like im in pixie hollow right now.”You grinned, making him smile. “I think thats a good thing- but upstairs is better!’He exclaimed before making his way up the stairs. He was right. 

There were marble heart shaped tiles hanging on the walls of the hall, a sign on the new hangout spot that was made out of drift wood. He opened the door, revealing bean bag chairs on the floor, a new carpet, a light yellow canopy hanging over the bed that had all new sheets and blankets on it as well. 

He had even somehow managed to fix the paint on the wall so that there were different colored polka dots all over it. The boys seemed equally impressed, still taking it in. You hugged Kelce, not even caring that you’d get his clothes wet. “So I did good?” He asked, hugging you back. “You always do good.”You replied, feeling him hug you tighter.

 “So you’re happy?”He asked, letting out a small sigh when you nodded. “I am happy, Kelce.”you replied, kissing him lightly. He smiled against you, taking in a deep breath. “I found a new recipe for fancy grilled cheese.”He told you, kissing your forehead. This was something that you loved about having them live with you.

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[yellowsuitcase]

Betwixt; Draco Malfoy: Chapter - The Job

Introduction(please read!)

First and foremost, warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter, but as a forewarning this story will contain mentions of sexual assault as well as swearing/strong language, and smut.

There are some characters in this story that are mine, however, the majority of them are based off of characters in JK Rowling's Harry Potter series. I do not support JK Rowling.

This is a Royalty AU, magic as seen in the Harry Potter series does not exist within this universe.

This series is also being posted on Wattpad @Tonix27 and it is currently In progress / Completed

I plan to create a Spotify playlist for this story, when I do it'll be posted in my masterlist for Betwixt.

Cover and Beta work by @10amnoodles​ on Instagram and Twitch

Please do not repost. There are trends on Tik Tok of people taking sections of writing from their favorite fanfics and posting them, I do not want this done with my work. However, you may post a screenshot of the fanfic's cover with the summary.

A/N: First chapter of the series I’ve been working on! I’m so excited for you guys to read this!!!!

Summary: To make ends meet after her mother's death, Y/N, a young mom, living within the kingdom of Sithrawl, lands a job at the castle working for the Royal Family, specifically for the prince, Draco Malfoy. What starts as a way to make money for her son quickly turns into an unexpected romance between her and the prince. Y/N soon finds herself stuck between her responsibilities as a mother and her longing for  love and adventure

Warning(s): Swearing

Word Count: 5.9k

Credits: @10amnoodles​ Check her out! her artwork is incredible and this series wouldn’t be happening without her :)

Directory

I shut the rickety door and leaned against it, the weight of my body keeping it closed. A deep sigh left my lips, and I relaxed my shoulders, finally feeling safe. It was silent in my home. Jasper must be asleep. I pushed myself off the door and crept around the corner. The wall was cold to the touch, and I was surprised to feel an indent underneath my fingertips. I pulled my hand away to see a long crack embedded in the plaster. There were already so many in this damn house, not to mention the little holes in the roofing and the lack of insulation. It was getting colder every day.

Sighing to myself, I made a mental note of the new damage and peeked into the bedroom. There he was, his dirty blonde hair cast over his eyes as he slept. I put my hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, waking him up. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. Upon seeing me, he jumped up. “Mummy!” he said excitedly. My heart swelled as I took my boy into my arms and hoisted him onto my hip. 

“How are you, my love? Hungry?” I ask. He nodded eagerly. I chuckled lightly at his toothy grin. He was always hungry, but weren’t all six-year-olds? Luckily for him, I managed to get some bread for free down at the market. Mrs. Weasley, the kind woman at the bakery, has been sneaking me food for the past two weeks. And although I was grateful for it, I was also ashamed. I would’ve been able to pay for her tasty treats, but my family’s funds had been stretching thinner and thinner ever since my mother passed. 

She died on the first of October, just as the cold was setting in. It wasn’t sudden; she’d been sick for a month or so before finally laying to rest. I had tried to take up her old job. She worked as a maid for a relatively wealthy family, the Greengrass’. However, when I knocked upon their door, a middle-aged woman dressed in my mother’s old uniform answered. That had told me everything I needed to know. Since then, I’ve been scouring the village for potential work. I’d managed to get a few odd jobs here and there, but nothing long term, and I needed to feed my boy. 

“What did you get today, Mum?” Jasper questioned. I turned to him and kissed his forehead. 

“Just some bread. Is that alright?” I asked hopefully. He’d never been the type of kid to complain, but I knew that, as he grew, so did his appetite. Bread was quickly becoming dull. Sooner or later, he’d voice his distaste for it. To my surprise, Jasper smiled and squeezed his arms around my neck, giving me a tight hug. “Yep!” he replied cheerfully. My anxiety quickly faded away. I kissed his cheek and sat him down at the table. 

“Did you do anything fun today?” I asked as I began slicing the loaf. Jasper hummed, thinking to himself. 

“I pretended to be a cow!” he declared, looking proud of himself. Jasper had always been quite the fan of cows. His favorite activity was trotting around the house, mooing. In my opinion, it was the cutest thing ever, but I may be a bit biased. 

“Did you? And how did you do that?” I asked, eyebrows raised. Jasper smirked and puffed out his chest. “I ate grass!” he announced loudly. I shook my head in bewilderment. “You ate grass?” Jasper nodded proudly. “Yup! And look,” he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a bundle of green grass, dumping it onto the table. “I saved some for you,” he finished, pushing the greenery towards me. I did my best to hide my grimace and gently placed his plate of bread in front of him. “That’s...wonderful, uhm, sweetheart, it’s not good to eat grass. You could get sick,” I said quietly, trying to deliver this news gently. A frown appeared on Jasper’s face, and he dropped his head, his eyes now staring at his lap. 

“Oh, Jas, it’s alright. I know you were only playing, but humans can’t eat grass,” I said while taking my own seat at the table. He reluctantly looked up, his pouty lips on full display. “Come on, love, eat some of your bread. The sun is going down, and I don’t like washing dishes in the dark,” I spoke sternly, trying to get him to eat. He sighed but picked up his bread and shoved it in his mouth. I made sure he didn’t choke since he had a tendency to take bigger bites than he should. I gnawed on my own piece.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was nearly nightfall. Who would be at the door at this time? I quickly got to my feet as the person knocked again. “Who’s that, Mum?” Jasper asked, his mouth full of bread. “Finish your bite before speaking, Jas. And I don’t know, let’s find out.” I approached the door, brushed off my dress, and turned the knob. Standing outside was Ron Weasley, the bakers’ youngest son. 

“Ron? Come in, come in. What’s going on?” I asked, a bit concerned he was here to tell me his parents wouldn’t be able to give me food anymore. The ginger-haired boy rushed past me and into my home and eagerly slapped a flyer onto the table. “Look,” he told me as he pointed to the parchment. I gave him a skeptical look but walked over to the table and picked it up. 

The Malfoy family is seeking a servant to the young prince. If interested, arrive at the castle at dawn on the 19th of October.

SALARY: 4 galleons per hour

The person selected to be the Prince’s servant will furthermore reside in the castle.

As I took in the information on the flyer, Jasper took the parchment from my grasp. He held it out in front of him and stared at it intently. I considered berating him for taking what doesn’t belong to him, but I chose not to, and instead, I turned to Ron, who had an enormous grin on his face. “Ron, you can’t be serious…”

“It’s perfect! It’s four galleons an hour, and if you’re working dawn till dusk, that’s roughly eleven hours. Forty-four galleons a day, Y/N. You can’t pass this up. You’d be mad not to at least try,” he told me. I wasn’t quite sold, “Yeah, that sounds like a dream, but what would I…” I paused and held my hand up to Ron, signaling him to give me a moment. Then I faced Jasper. “Darling, put your plate in the sink and go wash up; I’ll be there soon to get you ready for bed, alright?” I instructed him. His pouty lips returned. 

“But I wanna know what’s going on!” the boy insisted. He dropped the paper, crossed his arms over his chest, and promptly glared at me. I held back my laugh at his attempt at intimidation and put a hand on my hip. “Do as I say.” Jasper sighed but slid off his chair and trod off to the bathroom. I turned back to Ron. “If I live at the castle, how can I take care of Jasper? I can’t just leave him here alone; he’s only six, not to mention he’s ill,” I explained as I picked the parchment back up again. Ever since Jasper had turned four, he started having trouble breathing. There had been times where I was unsure if he’d survive through the night. Ron knew about this, but he wasn’t budging. “Y/N, the castle isn’t far. You could sneak out at dusk and spend the night with Jasper, no problem.”

“With all due respect, Ron, I don’t think it’ll be that easy. I’d have to get past people in the castle, the guards, and who knows who else?” I said, shaking my head. My eyes drifted to the flyer in my hand. A servant to the prince. What did that even mean? There was a serious lack of detail in the advertisement. My lip curled in distaste. The Royal Family was known to be quite the arrogant bunch. Malfoy, their surname, directly translates to ‘bad faith’. They didn’t treat their citizens well; nearly every town outside of Orton’s walls was neglected. Totbury, my town, especially.

Nevertheless, the Malfoy’s knew that, despite treating their people terribly, people would scramble for the chance to land this job. Simply based on the look of the family’s servants, they weren’t looking for people like me. If they found out where I live, they’ll surely dismiss me.

“Y/N, you’re underestimating yourself. That castle has numerous secret passageways, just find one of those, and you’re all set. And even if that doesn’t work, then you just make an excuse. Say the Prince himself sent you into the city, what are the guards going to say to that?” Ron argued. I threw him a look of confusion as I put the flyer down, my eyes lingering on the young prince. “How would you even know about secret passageways?” I asked. Ron cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t believe they exist?” he asked incredulously. I scoffed and walked over to the sink. 

“Ron, they’re only rumors. I’m sure they have a couple of lesser-known corridors, but not a secret passageway. That’s absurd,” I began rinsing off the plates and silverware, “And besides, I wouldn’t get chosen. Have you forgotten who I am? They’re not going to hire a peasant from Totbury, Ronald. I mean, have you seen the sheer amount of guards that line up around the Prince? They won’t let anyone touch him, so what makes you think they’d let me be his personal servant?” I asked, not really expecting a legitimate answer. However, it seemed as though Ron had all the answers that day. 

“That’s easy, just lie. Say you’re from Orton. The population is big enough that they wouldn’t know the difference. And it’s not like the King and Queen even leave the castle. I bet they couldn’t tell the difference between a Sithrawliean from a Perwenese,” Ron claimed. Perwen was the neighboring kingdom to Sithrawl.

“That may be true, but even if I lied, I don’t look the part. I’ve got maybe two dresses, and they both have holes in them. They’ll see right through me,” I pointed out yet another problem with Ron’s plan while I scrubbed the chipped plates in my sink. He remained silent for a moment but then snapped his fingers. 

“You’re about the same age as Ginny, aren’t you?” he asked, eyes looking hopeful. Indeed, I was around his sister’s age. I told him so, and he smiled. “Then you could borrow one of her dresses, in fact, I think Mum just bought her a new one!” he suggested excitedly. Once I put down the now clean plates, I dried my hands and spun around to face Ron. 

“I’m not taking Ginny’s new dress; that’s ridiculous,” I replied. Ron opened his mouth to retaliate, but I interrupted him. “Look, I appreciate you looking out for Jasper and me, but I can’t...I can’t just lie to the Royal Family. And I don’t want to leave my son at home all day.” 

“But haven’t you already been doing that? You’ve been scouring the streets for weeks looking for a job. I just thought that maybe this would be a good—”

I cut him off, my patience lost. “Yes, well, you thought wrong! I’m not going off and living in a lavish castle while my child is all alone in this shithole. It’s unfair to him, and I’m not doing it. End of story.” 

Ron’s previously bright smile had faded into a regretful frown. He nodded his head and looked at the floor as if he was afraid to look me in the eye. I began to feel guilt seep into my stomach. He was only trying to help, and here I was giving him a hard time. Nice going, Y/N.

“You’re right. I’m sorry for suggesting it. I’ll just...get going, and don’t worry, I’ll tell Mum you say hello,” Ron said solemnly as he headed for the door. I held my tongue and walked him out, waving as he strode down the road. When I closed the door behind him, I let out a heavy sigh and ran my hands through my hair. There was no need for me to have acted like such a pain, but alas, the apology Ron deserves would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I need to care for my boy.

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{The next morning}

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I woke with a start, sitting straight up in my bed. My back was drenched with sweat, and my skin felt hotter than hell. I had no clue as to why I'd woken up in such a state, but I didn't have the energy to care. Slowly, as to not wake Jasper, I lifted the covers and slid out of our bed. As I got to my feet and walked into the kitchen, I noticed the sun wasn’t even up yet. I stepped closer to the window and peered out, looking for the town clock. When I spotted it, I saw that it was roughly half-past five. Dawn wasn’t until seven.

Exhausted, I rubbed my eyes lightly and turned around. There on the table was the flyer. I stepped towards it and lifted it up. “...arrive at the castle at dawn…” My head turned towards the window once again. If I got ready now, I could make it. But did I dare? I’d have to find someone to watch Jasper. Does Ron’s offer even stand now? I supposed there was only one way to find out. I rushed to the bathroom and quickly turned on the water in the bath. A slow stream trickled out of the spout. 

“Come on,” I whispered. As if the universe had heard me, the water pressure grew stronger, and the tub began to fill. Anxiously, I stripped my clothing and jumped inside, despite the lack of water. We always kept a wooden bowl by the bathtub, so I reached for it and dunked it under the faucet, letting it gather enough liquid before I dumped it onto my head. The temperature was less than ideal, but I made do, and within fifteen minutes, I was out of the bath and drying off.

Quickly, I threw on my dress, slipped on my shoes, and ran out the door, but not before kissing a sleeping Jasper goodbye. He’ll be okay, I assured myself. The Weasleys were luckily only a few blocks down, so I hustled down the street and up to their door. Yet, once I found myself on their cozy porch, I was unable to knock. My fist hovered above the wooden door, decorated with fresh winter flowers. It’s now or never, a voice in my head whispered. Somehow, I found my courage and rapped my knuckle against the firm wood.

After only a few moments, Mr. Weasley opened the door. “Y/N? What brings you here so early? Has something happened?” he asked initially. Then he saw my wet hair and my shivering frame. “Good heavens! Come inside, you’ll freeze,” he exclaimed, motioning for me to come towards him. I scampered in, and Mr. Weasley shut the door. I could tell he was bursting with questions, but I filled him in before he could speak. 

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I’m here because yesterday Ronald stopped by and told me the Royal Family was looking for a servant. And well, at first, I wasn’t going to apply for it, but now...now I wish to,” I spoke softly. The man stood tall as he processed this information. 

“Well, that sounds grand. But if I may, why are you here?” he questioned. Before I could tell him, Ron entered the foyer from around the corner. “Y/N? You’re here, have you changed your mind?” he asked, his voice sounding hopeful. With a bit of lingering hesitation, I nodded my head. “I have.”

Ron smiled brightly. “Brilliant, wait here,” he instructed before he headed into a different room, leaving his father and me by the door. Soon enough, however, he emerged with a green and white dress. It was paired with a leather brown underbust corset. Although simple, it was perfect. “That’s beautiful, wow. Are you sure about this?” I checked with Ron. He nodded and motioned behind him. 

“Ginny’s awake; she’ll help you into it,” he told me. Right on cue, a sweet young girl with long red hair strolled into the foyer. She waved at me softly, and I waved back. 

“Splendid, off you go then. Ginny, find her a towel to dry her hair, won’t you?” Mr. Weasley asked his daughter. She nodded, took me by the hand, and dragged me into what I assumed was her room. The Weasley’s home looked bigger than the rest in Totbury, but I never suspected that one of their children would have their own bedroom. I was led to the center of Ginny’s room. She shut the door and quickly began helping me out of my day dress. 

“Are you nervous?” she asked immediately. Her inquiry caught me off guard and reminded me of the butterflies in my tummy. I scrambled for an answer as she wrapped my hair in a dark brown towel.

“Of course, I am. I’m leaving my son alone all day,” I told her finally. Ginny smiled softly as she laid my dress on her bed, leaving me in my undergarments. She knew I had dodged her question but didn’t mention it.

“We can have him stay with us today if you want. It’s really no problem,” Ginny offered. This wasn’t the first time the Weasley’s had said they could watch Jasper. While it was very kind of them, I never took them up on it; I couldn’t. My mother never gave me over to another family when she went to work. She would always tell me, “Don’t go outside. I’ll return before nightfall.” And that was that. I stayed put and waited for her to come home. Sure, it was a lonely childhood, but she did what she had to do to provide for me. Now, I wanted to do that for my own child, but it was becoming clearer to me that I wouldn’t be able to do things like my mother. If I get the job, I’ll be in the castle, I won’t be able to come running if something happens. Deep down, I knew the safest option for my boy was to let him stay with the Weasleys.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Ginny smiled and nodded her head. “Of course. He’ll be safe and sound while you do what you need to do.” I gnawed on my lip as she slipped the dress over my head and onto my body. 

“I really appreciate this, you know? Things have just been… difficult lately, and I’m trying to do right by Jasper, but I’m still figuring out how, if that makes sense,” I said to her, not really knowing why I was suddenly confiding in her. Ginny was only a year younger than me, twenty-one. We’d never talked much growing up. Better late than never, I suppose.

“You’re doing great, Y/N. Don’t be so hard on yourself, seriously,” Ginny said gently while she began tying up my corset. I took a moment to admire myself in the ornate mirror in front of me. I was now adorned in an ankle-length, deep green dress. It was significantly nicer than any piece of clothing I’d ever owned. 

“Where did you get this, Ginny? It’s so beautiful,” I asked. Ginny shrugged as she pulled and adjusted the fabric, seemingly her final touches.

“I’m not sure. Mum never said where she got it. But it’s gorgeous on you.” I felt my face flush as I stared back at myself in the mirror. I looked unfamiliar. Hesitantly, I gave Ginny a little twirl, feeling a grin creep onto my lips as the skirt flared around me in a perfect circle. I felt young. I felt new.

“Thank you for lending it to me. Hopefully, everything goes well, and I’ll make enough money to buy you many more dresses such as this one,” I said, smiling at Ginny. Then I caught sight of a nearby window. The sun wasn’t in the sky quite yet, but the darkness of the night was beginning to lift. “Speaking of which, I’d better get going. I’ll be back before nightfall to get Jasper; he should still be sleeping at home,” I rambled while heading for the door, Ginny close behind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go fetch him. You’re right though, you’d better get a move on; sun’ll be up in an hour.” I nodded and tore the towel from my head, letting my semi-dry and now wavy hair fall to my shoulders and back. The other Weasleys lifted their heads as I rushed to the door. I quickly waved goodbye and said my thanks as I ran outside, the chorus of their farewells barely reaching my ears. I was already several paces down the street. 

Luckily for me, I knew my way to the castle. Once I reached my teenage years, I’d often sneak through the woods and journey to the capital. And when I got near enough, I’d take a right and go the long way ‘round. That way, I could get up close and personal to the walls of Orton. I couldn’t see anything, of course, but I loved to sit my back against the cool stone bricks and simply listen to the hustle and bustle. As a young girl, I often daydreamed of what life might be like within those walls. Now, I may get the chance to find out.

The trip was just how I’d remembered it, although a bit shorter. First, I’d walk straight between the long stretches of farmland. Sometimes I’d even get to see livestock. But after that, the land would transition into dense forest, filled with various wildflowers as well as a little creek. Once through there, one found themselves at the start of a cobblestone road leading straight to the gates of Orton. That’s where I was now. The sun was beginning to pierce the sky, and I didn’t feel ready. Then I thought of Jasper, and my foot moved forwards, the other following after it. Soon enough, I was face to face with two tall men dressed in silver armor. Behind them, cast iron doors concealing the city beyond them.

“State your name and business,” the man on the left said. His eyes wouldn’t even meet mine. Bile tempted to spill into my mouth, but I swallowed it down and did as he asked.

“Y/N of Orton. I come to find work, specifically for the position at the castle,” I said in a tone as confident as I could muster. The guard raised his eyebrows. 

“I’ve never seen you or heard of you. You certain you’re from here?” he asked, jutting his finger towards the doors. I nodded firmly. Fake it till you make it.

“Yes, sir. I haven’t been home in many months as I’ve been looking after my cousin in Totbury. He’s been very ill, and I’ve been afraid to leave his side. Yet, I fear I am without much money. Hence why I’m here now.” I looked at the men, trying to gauge whether or not they detected my lies. I’d only just cooked up that tall tale fifteen minutes ago, and I didn’t have anything past that. My fingers squeezed each other behind my back as I waited for them to reply. One looked to the other, who shrugged, then they turned back to me.

“Very well, welcome back,” he said. My sigh of relief was covered up by the loud creaking of the doors as the men pushed them open, revealing the awaking city. I quickly walked through them before the guards could change their minds. Mother of God. I couldn’t believe I was actually here. But I knew I didn’t have time to explore, I had to get to the castle. Hardly anyone was outside their homes yet, so I took off running, my worn shoe soles slapping on the cobblestone. I didn’t know my way, of course. I was simply going by the spiral at the top of a tower. I could see it from the city streets, so I rushed through the city’s twist and turns until arriving at a long stone bridge. It led all the way to a tall archway, beyond it, the entrance to the castle. 

I did my best not to break out into a sprint and instead speed-walked across it, wondering why there was nobody else in sight. I didn’t have time to ponder it further as I had already made it to the entrance. I told the guards here the same thing I’d said to the ones at the gates. They let me in seconds after I said I was there for the job opening.

The beauty of the castle stopped me in my tracks. Candles flickered above me in the high-hanging chandeliers, their light shining on the polished wooden floors. Gold framed portraits decorated the warm stone walls. Everything was so clean, so elegant. My eyes had no idea where to look. Get a hold of yourself. You’re not here to look around. I scanned the foyer but realized I had no idea where to go. But then a soft voice startled me.

“It’s up the stairs and to the left, dear. Better hurry. The Prince is almost done with his breakfast.” I turned around to see a short old woman with stark blonde hair. At first glance, she reminded me of my mother. She smiled when she saw my face. “Go on, wouldn’t want to be late now,” she ushered. I hastily nodded my head as I hurried up the steps, taking a left just as she had told me. I was now facing a long hallway, at the end of which were open doors leading into a large room. As I drew nearer, I could see a long line of people, all with their hands behind their back and chests puffed out. Intimidation tickled my skin. They all looked so proper.

Trying to push away my thoughts, I stepped into the room, which I realized was the throne room, and claimed my place beside a young woman. She looked to be around my age, as did many of the women. I quickly noticed that there were only women here. That’s odd. Surely at least some men would wish to be the Prince’s servant. Although, I suppose it’s not the same as being his right-hand man or advisor. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud toot of a trumpet. I turned to my right to see a well-dressed man with a silver instrument pressed to his lips. He played a little tune before lowering the trumpet.

“His Majesty, the King, and her Majesty, the Queen.” The man stepped aside, and two figures entered the room. The man was tall, had blonde hair, and a pale, pointed face. His eyes seemed to pierce my soul when he made eye contact. He carried a black and silver cane with him as he walked. The woman at his side looked just as unnerving as her husband. She, too, was tall, although not as tall as the King. Her hair was long and blonde, just as pale as her skin. The slimness of her waist was rather alarming, and her eyes were ice cold. 

The couple took their seats on their respective thrones and turned towards the door. The previous man spoke again. “His Royal Highness, Prince Draco.” The man of the hour, Draco Malfoy, strutted into the room. A perfect combination of his parents, his skin was cool white, nearly the same as his platinum hair. His high cheekbones and pointed chin resembled his father’s, but, unlike the King, Draco’s hair was cut short, a few stray strands hovered over his forehead. When he took a seat next to his mother, I could see her eyes soften as she looked at him.

The trumpeter exited, leaving the Royal Family alone with the line of girls in front of them, save for a few guards. The King cleared his throat and rose to his feet, clutching his snake-headed cane as he did. 

“In a few moments, my son will choose his new servant. I trust you will all be respectful and do as you’re told. If the prince dismisses you, then you leave. If the prince asks you a question, you answer it truthfully. And finally, if the prince chooses you, you will be led to your living quarters and will immediately begin your training. The prince will be taking the throne in exactly two hundred and thirty days; he is a busy young man, and we cannot waste any more time. Do I make myself clear?” he asked. Nobody said a word. “Good. Draco,” he called, motioning to us. 

The prince stood up from his throne and made his way down the marble steps. He stopped a few feet in front of a girl a couple of people down from me. He stared at her for a few seconds before waving his hand and saying, “Dismissed.” The girl didn’t move, she looked confused and a bit shocked. Draco scoffed. “Weren’t you listening to my father? If I dismiss you, you leave. The door is to your right; run along now,” he ordered. I watched in disbelief as the girl bowed her head and rushed from the room, tears in her eyes. “Daft cow,” Draco muttered. Anger began to stir in my chest. What an absolute prick. Christ, I knew the Malfoys were a cold bunch, but I never thought the crown prince would be this much of an arsehole.

He continued going down the line, dismissing girls left and right. It didn’t seem like he had a particular order. No, he was merely kicking out the girls who didn’t please his eye. I knew this because he’d tell them what he didn’t find appealing as they left. 

“Big nose.”

“Thin lips.”

“Too tall.”

“Repulsive complexion.”

He dismissed and dismissed until only three girls remained, including me. He stopped in front of a black-haired woman. She wore a cream-colored gown. It was much fancier than mine and contrasted beautifully with her dark skin.

“What’s your name?” Draco asked. The woman replied that her name was Alyssa. “Hi, Alyssa. Tell me, what makes you want this job?” It was silent for a few moments before the woman answered. 

“My mother suggested it, Your Highness.” Draco clasped his hands behind his back and studied Alyssa’s face and body. His calm demeanor was frightening, to say the least.

“So your mother wants you to have this position, but tell me, Alyssa, do you want this position? Or are we just wasting our time here trying to fulfill the wishes of a woman who isn’t even here?” he seethed. Alyssa stuttered but shook her head and insisted she, too, wanted the job. I could tell from his face that Draco didn’t buy what she was selling, but he didn’t dismiss her. Instead, he shuffled his feet until he stood in front of me. My heart started pounding in my chest, but I kept my head up, my mother’s words echoing in my head. “Don’t be afraid to make eye contact.”

Draco said nothing for nearly an entire minute. He only stood still, eyes never leaving mine. It felt like a staring contest, but without the playful energy. I could see now that his eyes were grey. They looked empty like they were searching for something. I narrowed my own, trying to figure out why they looked this way. It seemed as though this upset Draco.

“What’re you looking at?” he spat. I quickly replied. I could practically feel his anger, and I did not want to add to it by being slow to respond.

“Nothing, Your Highness.”

“Liar. Try again, sweetheart.” Perceptive. Or perhaps just angry. Whichever it was, he now left me with a decision—another lie or the simple truth. I weighed the options in my head; neither seemed favorable.

“Your eyes,” I replied. Draco raised an eyebrow. I took this to mean he wanted me to elaborate. “They’re grey.” Upon hearing this, he rolled them.

“Brilliant deduction,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “But why were you staring at them so...intently?” he questioned me further. However, he seemed afraid almost. Like he didn’t want to hear my answer. Regardless, I shrugged.

“Well, they appear sad and honestly, vacant.” I could feel the entire room tense as I spoke. Behind Draco, I saw The King jump to his feet, his wife’s hand on his arm in a feeble attempt at holding him back. 

“Guards…” he started, but then Draco lifted a hand, halting his father as well as the guards who’d begun to take a few steps forward. 

“That won’t be necessary. Send for Olive. She can show her to her new room,” Draco spoke gently. His voice was even and firm, and yet, nobody moved to fulfill his request.

“Surely you’re not picking her, son?” The King asked, desperation evident in his voice. It was easy to see that he disapproved of this decision. Draco, whose eyes still hadn’t moved from mine, adjusted his hands. They now rested on his thighs, fingers intertwined.

“You’re from Orton, yes?” I nodded, not trusting my voice. “You’re healthy, no deathly illnesses?” Again, I nodded. “And you want this job?” This time I decided to speak.

“Yes, Your Highness, very much so.” I curled my toes, hoping my conviction was enough. The smile that stretched across Draco’s face hinted that it was. However, his next words confirmed it.

“Perfect. Yes, Father, I have picked her. Now can somebody please fetch Olive? I don’t quite know why nobody did so even though I specifically remember telling you less than two minutes ago,” he said fiercely. Within seconds, a guard rushed out the door to do as The Prince had ordered. The two girls beside me took this as their cue to exit as well. Alyssa looked gutted, and the other girl seemed relieved. I felt a bit sad to see them go, but my thoughts of them were overridden by the increasingly uncomfortable feeling growing in my stomach.

The distress in the air felt thick, almost suffocating. It seemed that the vacant man standing in front of me was quite the threatening presence. While this let me know I should tread lightly when in his company, it didn’t instill fear. Yes, I had been intimidated and afraid when I initially walked into the Malfoy’s throne room, but once I’d gotten a good look at the youngest of the bunch, those feelings dissipated.

His eyes told me all I needed to know. Draco was nothing but talk. He was closer to a boy than he was a man, and more importantly, he had no guts to do anything substantial. Sure, words could hurt, but when it came down to it, they were nothing more than words.

As I was led to my room by Olive, the kind older woman I’d met at the doorway, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. 

Taglist (I used my All Draco Works taglist for this, if you DO NOT want to be on this taglist for Betwixt, please let me know!): @beiahadid​ @pastelpuffbar​ @cutie1365​ @dracoxmgg​ @lumlfy​ @sambucky8​ @emilianamason​ @raplinethereal​ @DixieTheMorab24 @xoxohollands​  @prongsandprancer​ @ch0kemedracomalfoy​ @avlauriaa​ @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream​ @drxcomvlfx​ @sydnee-kom-spacekru​ @dracosgoodgirl​ @voilawind​ @gloryekaterina​ @anchoeritic​ @ragxsxragxs​ @exoticlizard @dlmmdl @siriusblklftv​ @Writtenbyadramaqueen @amourtentiaa​ @keidensu​

[simpsiren]

sticky notes: the story

mark lee x reader

introduction 

main masterlist

description. you use sticky notes to get into contact with your soulmate.

genre. soulmate au, high school au, strangers to lovers au

warnings. nonee

a/n. so some people requested for a full story of this so here it is! i really liked making this because the concept is just so cute cudndn oh and i did include the same idea as what i did in my previous post but i had to change it a little so that it would fit the plot. this is a really really long ff since its a slow burn typa thing so please try to stick with me on this one HAHA anyways enjoyy! :D

“you actually believe that?”

you lift your head up from your notes to look at soyoung. she nods her head and hum eagerly. you rub your temples from seeing her respond. “i do believe soulmates exist. but sticky notes to talk to them? what’s social media for then? and how is it even scientifically possible?” you question soyoung, bringing your eyes down as you continue to do your homework.

“that’s the beauty of soulmates, ray!” soyoung whines. you shake your head. “you’re dumb to believe it without confirming the information with other relevant sources.” you mutter out bluntly. you hear soyoung letting out a ‘tsk’. “here you go again being a history student. i swear im glad i never took it.” you scoff and slam your pen on the table gently.

“excuse me, woman! at least i dont have to memorise the whole textbook and only having 5 pages of content coming out in the exam.” you stick your tongue out playfully to tease soyoung. “i cant get over the fact that valcanos didn’t come out eventhough i memorised so much for it.”

the both of you laugh, knowing that the two of you can never stop debating on whether history or geography is the better subject.

“ray complete your homework at home. we cant stay in the classroom for long you know?” soyoung stands up to get to her seat, which is 2 rows down yours since you were sitting right at the back. you liked sitting at the back. it allowed you to always be able to use your phone in case you get bored in class. you still cant believe that your teachers think you’re a good and obedient student. you figured they only assumed that due to your high grades.

you sigh “that’s true.” you turn around to grab your back that was hanging in your chair and start packing your materials. once you were done, you grab the class key and walk over to soyoung’s seat, waiting for her to finish packing. you notice soyoung has finish packing and went to switch off the lights. you allow soyoung to step out first before you close the door behind you and lock the classroom door.

you and soyoung walked down the hallway silently, you were looking out the window to watch the sunset while soyoung had her eyes on her feet. only your footsteps could be heard as almost everyone has left the school grounds except for some teachers who were working late. the school normally closes at 7pm and you’re walking out at 6:50. to break the silence, soyoung opens her mouth to start a conversation.

“okay if you dont believe me why dont you try it yourself? like write a simple introduction to your soulmate.” you raise an eyebrow as you shove your hands into the front pockets of your mom jeans. “why dont you do it?” you fought back as you huff. soyoung bites the inside of her cheek as a moment of silence passes for her to think of an answer.

“because i believe it. and you do not. so you should try it.” you smacked soyoung’s arm, making her flinch back and shouting a loud ‘ouch’. you roll your eyes, knowing you didn’t hit her hard and she was just overreacting. “brilliant excuse,so. but if its going to make you stop talking about it, i might as well.” soyoung face lit up as she jumps happily and starts skipping ahead of you. you laugh and pull the handle at back of her bag to keep her explosion of excitement to the minimum.

“you owe me brown sugar milk tea. large.” you taunted. soyoung waves her hand lazily. “i’ll buy you one after school tomorrow. but you better update me during math.”

you wanted to say how you could just text soyoung to update her, but you remembered the fact that soyoung’s mother took away her phone since she didn’t do well for this year’s midterms. although to you, soyoung’s grades were decent. unfortunately for her, soyoung has to live up to her asian mom’s high expectations. the thought of this made you want to frown, but you showed a bright smile regardless as the two of you finally made it to the school gate, waving to each other and bidding farewell before walking down opposite paths.

once you arrived at home, you took out your phone from your back pocket. you saw a notification from your mother saying that your parents would be home late. you shrug your shoulders as you walk to your room. “as always.” you breathed out.

you did your normal routine of showering and eating leftover dinner that you needed to heat up at the couch while you completed one episode of the anime series you were so hooked on. you continue watching but with the amount of homework you have, you might finish them all by midnight if you dont slack.

you turned off the tv and washed your plate before heading into your room. as you close the door behind you, your eyes immediately went to your desk, which was pretty messed up since you had a test to study for yesterday that you completely weren’t prepared for and had to squeeze in as much information as you can. hence, the scattering of notes and textbooks.

you stroll over to your desk and sat down. you take out your homework from your back which was beside the desk. looking at the stack of homework, you groan in despair as shove it to the back of the desk till it hit the wall. “ah fuck it! im just going to ask kun for help.” you admitted your defeat depsite thinking you would be able to gain some energy from your dinner. you also thought about how you’ve done your homework in the morning plenty of time so i shouldnt be a problem unless kun doesn’t offer his help.

you jump to your bed and lay down, bringing your phone out and immediately start scrolling through instagram. as you swiped your finger up to look at the posts of the people you follow, you stop at one. a picture of a couple who met through the sticky note theory. or so they claim. your thumbs hover over the screen as your eyes look up to the ceiling, starting to remember what soyoung asked to do to get your bubble tea.

yoy tap your index finger on the side of your phone as you constantly started to think whether you should do it or not. you’ve heard the rumours. but are they even true? the more you thought about it, the more intriguing the idea got. but at the same time, you also thought of how stupid it sounded and was probably made to fool people.

after contemplating and having in a debate in your head that felt like forever, you finally place your phone down beside you and take a deep breath. “ill do it.” you groan to yourself, letting curiosity take over your other feelings.

you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed and walk over to your desk. you push all the papers and textbooks aside, grabbing a yellow sticky notepad from your stationery organiser. you had other colours too like pink and purple, but you figured that you should go with the classic.

pulling out a random pen that was laying in between the pages of one of your textbooks, you tilt your head to the side as you start thinking of what to write, unconsciously biting the end of your pen in the process.

you bite the side of your cheek and shrug, deciding to go with the plan of writing whatever that comes to your mind.

um hi? i dont even know if you’re going to see this. its funny, really. i heard a rumour that you can communicate with your soulmate through sticky notes. it’s probably just fake news and im writing to a nobody. that would honestly be embarrassing but it’ll be like love letters.. to myself(?) or my soulmate. write back? haha

you read over what you wrote an endless amount of times, thinking if you should make changes. you groan and immediately stick the sticky note onto your wall, giving up on giving second thoughts about what you call this ridiculousness.

you went about your night, forgetting you have left the sticky note on the wall. as you were on you bed scrolling through tumblr at 2 in the morning, you hear something. it sounded like a piece of paper had fallen from your desk.

unable to see in complete darkness, you turn on the flashlight from your phone and walk around your room, trying to find whatever it is that fell. it didn’t take you long to find a small yellow sticky note that you accidentally stepped on.

you pick it up, remembering that you wrote on the sticky note and thought that it was yours. however, once you were able to get a closer look, you noticed that the words on the sticky note have changed. so has the handwriting.

holy shit. i dont know what is this. but apparently a sticky note appeared on my wall saying i have a soulmate. my friends told me i should write back because of some rumour. so here i am trying. hi im mark. i dont know your name, but hope you’ll tell me once you recieve this. you’re in luck because apparently the rumour is true. im just as crepped out as you are.

you froze in your spot. your fingers shaking as you read the note again. you scratch your head. being too tired and unable to think straight at 2 in the morning, you place the sticky note on your desk and went back to bed to play with your phone. you soon forget about the fact that your soulmate has replied to your message that you have written on your sticky note.

as you got ready for the next period which was math, soyoung immediately runs over to you, dragging the chair from the desk beside you and taking a seat. you flinch a little when you suddenly see her close to you. 

“so did you try it?!” soyoung asks, her voice filled with enthusiasm . you brushed a few pieces of hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you take out your textbook from under the desk. “did you get a reply then?” 

your mind started to take you back to the mysterious encounter that you had last night. “mhm.” you reply simply. “though the only thing i remember because it seems to be the only relevant information is that the person’s name is mark.” soyoung gasped loudly, making you crease your forehead as you watch her overreacting again. 

“your soulmate’s name is mark then.” soyoung concludes, folding her arms confidently as if she made a great discovery. you laugh, rolling your eyes sarcastically. “isnt it obvious?” soyoung frowns fakely. 

your mouth gapes open as you hit soyoung’s arm lightly. “buy me my milk tea!” you demanded with a wide smile. soyoung places her notebook on your table and nods constantly. “i will you addict.” she groans. you happily say thank you as your teacher comes into the classroom and class began. 

“what are you going to do about it now though?” as you recieved the question from soyoung, you kept silent for a moment, giving time to think of an answer.

 “ill write something back? i dont know.. ill have to read the letter again when i get back home.” you whispe to soyoung. she nods in reply as the two of you payed your attention to the front again. it surprised you that soyoung was paying attention but you only assumed that she wanted to do better in class and shrug your shouders, writing down the notes youve missed while talking to soyoung.

as for you, your concentration in class dipped slightly because now, the thing that is occupying your head the most is the thought that the sticky notes theory might actually be real and you cant say its not possible anymore, making you even more shocked than you did last night.

lucky for you, today is the only day of the week where your class ends the earliest, along with two other lower ranked classes. you and soyoung quickly pack up to go to the mall to get your reward. after soyoung buys you your drink, you and soyoung went your separate ways.

after about 30 minutes of taking the bus and walking, you finally arrived at home. you place your drink on the living room table and proceed to place your bag in the room and head for the showers.

once you were done showering, you walk out of the bathroom to head to your room while drying your hair with a small towel. opening the door, you enter and went straight to your clothing rack. just when you were about to grab a shirt from the hanger, you heard the same noise last night. another piece of paper has fallen on the floor.

you turn your head and look down. this time, you found another sticky note right in front of your feet. the colour of the sticky note changed from yellow to a light blue. you tilt your head as you pick up the stick note from the floor, finding it odd as you wonder how the colour of the sticky note changed.

you take a deep breath before reading it, noticing that the handwriting was similar to the one you read last night. a little messier, but still readable.

hi again.. im not sure if you’ll recieve this since its the afternoon and i know people are busy with work or school. i skipped school today so haha. um i just wanted to write to you, despite me not knowing a single thing about you. its odd really. its like i feel the need to write something to an unknown identity that people assume to be my soulmate. i still dont know your name, so i hope youll reply soon. take your time and take care :)

- mark

“skip school? what is he, a bad boy?” you scoff to yourself. you try to take in whatever’s on the note, but another thought comes to mind. you walk over to your desk and saw that the yellow sticky note with mark’s reply was still there. you find everything about this weird and just odd in general. a lot of questions sprouted, but you didn’t want to think of it since you were afraid you would complicate your thoughts and just throw yourself into a stress hole.

you continue to dry your hair with one hand while the other held onto the light blue sticky note. you bit your lip and gulp. after letting out a long sigh, you place the sticky note next to the other one and changed into your clothes, as well as bringing your drink from the living room table to your room, placing it on the desk as you sat down.

you take out your pencilcase from your bag and brought out your fresh new black pen that you just bought at the school’s stationery store. the previous pen you had was full of ink till soyoung was dumb enough to drop it, spoiling the pen and was unable to be used again.

peeling off another yellow stick note from the stack at the edge of your desk, you were about to put your pen on paper when you realise you dont even know what to write. what do you say to this person you barely know about? you continuously tap the edge of the pen against your desk as you take a sip of your drink. you look over to the two sticky notes with the messages that the person has left. its funny how you have to think so hard just to write a short message.

hey again. i actually ended school early today. my name’s raven. but my friends call me ray. i honestly don’t know what to say to you. im still dumbfounded over the fact that you’re my soulmate and we’re here communicating over sticky notes. the world really does work in a strange way. if you dont mind, i guess i want to know how old you are and you’re education status?

you held out the sticky note in front of you and sigh in satisfaction. why? it’s because of your neat handwriting. it was always a trait of yours that you deeply appreciate. you place the sticky note on the wall and advert your attention to the other sticky notes, placing them on the wall beside the new one you have just written.

“will this drive me insane? i might end up with a whole wall of this.” you say to yourself, rubbing your face with your palm before going to your bed and laying down, wanting to have your evening nap.

“this is awesome!”

“no its scary.”

mark and his group of friends stared at the sticky note that has a message written with beautiful handwriting. mark flinched when he felt an arm on his shoulder, turning around to notice it was chenle’s. “when did you write your previous sticky note?” renjun suddenly asked. mark tilts his head as he tried to find an answer.

“less than an hour before you guys came i guess?” mark shrugs, standing up from his desk and taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside jaemin and haechan. “this raven girl is your soulmate then.” chenle walks towards mark and stands in front of him. mark nods slowly. the room grew silent again with everyone having the similar thoughts.

“you know what would be funny?” haechan smacks mark’s thigh, the sound making everyone turn their attention to mark and haechan. “what?” mark asked with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“why dont we prank her and say you’re a sugar daddy and live in a mansion?!” everyone gave yuta weird looks, making haechan laugh hysterically. “are you crazy? do you think i want to chase my soulmate away?” mark scolded haechan, smacking him hard on the chest, resulting in haechan’s back falling onto the bed.

“you’re always asking for a beating i swear.” renjun comments, walking towards haechan and balling his hand into a fist and acting as if he was about to attack. jaemin laughs to try and calm them down. “kids let’s not fight.” jaemin announced, looking over to jeno only to find him standing there watching quietly.

“go ahead, mark. you should write something. we cant keep her waiting.” jeno finally spoke up, grabbing the sticky notepad and a random pen from mark’s table and passing it over to him.

mark stared at the blank paper while the others were talking about what to have for dinner. it didn’t take him long to decide what to write. when mark starts writing and began to be in full concentration, everyone crowds around him to see what he’s writing.

sup raven! i wont call you ray since we aren’t friends yet. im still shocked. like the possibility of things like this being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen. but anyways, to answer you question, im a high schooler from dream high. im in my third year. its kind of awkward for me while im writing this since my friends are reading every word im taking down. i guess i should ask you the same question back then. hope to hear from you soon.

“will you guys stop being nosy?” mark groans, standing up and pasting the sticky note on his wall, along with the other sticky notes he received from you. “you didn’t have to say that we’re here.” haechan retorts. mark rolls his eyes. “jesus..” mark mutters under his breathe. “anyways, yall are paying for dinner since you guys bribed me to write back.” mark sticks his tongue out playfully and runs out to the living room. everyone follows suit.. except for jeno.

jeno slowly walks towards the wall and leans forward to get a closer look of the sticky notes, specifically the two others beside the new one that mark just wrote. “raven? why does that sound so familiar? the handwriting...” jeno brings his finger up and lightly hovers them over the uniquely written words. it looked like calligraphy, and retro looking. jeno felt as though he had seen it before somewhere, or knew someone who wrote like that.

jeno snapped out of his deep thoughts when jaemin called out to him, making him walk towards the door and glancing at the sticky notes once more before joining the others in the living room.

you were currently video calling your friends when you heard the crackling of a piece of paper. of course you knew what that meant. you peered down the the floor from your bed and reached your hand out to pick up the sticky note. “ray?” doyoung called out to you when he noticed your face wasnt on screen. you lay back down on the floor and brought your phone up to show your face.

“what was that sound earlier?” lucas asked, currently sounding hyper. “the mysterious mark sent me another sticky note.” you reply sarcastically, waving the sticky note to the camera to let everyone look at it. everyone nodded their heads at the some time, some letting out a long ‘ah’ as well. “read it out loud!” yuta shouted.

“the fuck no!” you shouted back. you stared at the sticky note, but didn’t bother to read it. you thought of doing that once you’re done video calling them.

“how was today for you guys?” you asked, wanting to know how they’re doing.

“its tiring! we had dance practice, then we have to do recordings for our new albums. we barely get any sleep.” ten whines, his tone filled with stress. you laugh loudly. it made everyone frown and pout. you sigh. “pursuing your NCT world domination is never easy.” you commented, highlighting the word ‘world domination’ with a change of tone.

everyone lets out a long sigh and started to complain one by one, making the whole video call chaotic for almost 10 minutes. you could only smile and shake your head.

after about an hour or so of talking about basically everything and catching up with each other, everyone decided that they should end the call here since it was beginning to get dark and they needed to start practice soon. you bid your goodbye to them once more and ended the call.

you now adverted your attention to the sticky note. reading the letter, you raise both eyebrows. “dream high? that’s not far from here..” you mumbled to yourself. you started to think about everything you know about dream high. you know it’s was about an hour’s journey from where you live. it wasnt really well known either. the overall vibe of the school was mediocre.

however, you felt like you were missing something. something about that school is somehow related to you. you just couldn’t think of an answer despite squeezing all thoughts that you have in your brain. you groan and stood up from your bed and to your desk, proceeding to wanting to write a reply to mark.

hey. sorry if you get this quite late. i was busy video calling my friends. to answer your question, im a third year as well from jookin high. i would ask for your number so we dont have to do this all the time but my friend would scold me saying “but you’re removing the fun out of it.” but anyways, mark aka my soulmate, tell me about yourself, to start off.

you stick the note onto the wall, looking at the row of messages you’ve had recieved so far. you found it weird how the first time you’ve sent the note and got a reply back, it was on the same sticky note, just different handwriting. but you had to write on a new sticky note to send a new message only to get the same sticky note with a different message in return.

you only see his answers lined up on your wall. you started to wonder how this mark guy looked like. is he good looking? what are his hobbies? his attitude towards school? you really wished you could just text him through instagram and not have to go through all this trouble. but that option would earn you a large smack on the back by soyoung and your really didn’t want that.

“do we really need to be here now? like now?!”soyoung whined, while pushing the cart and following behind you while you tossed some packets of frozen bacon. you stopped walking and turn around, nodding your head intensely. soyoung groans and took out her phone, proceeding to use it while still pushing the cart.

you walk around the supermarket, trying to find the ingredients listed on your notes in your phone. it was the weekends and you’re parents were going to be away for a business trip for a week so you thought of inviting soyoung over and making home cooked meals as a bonding session for you two.

after about 30 minutes of gathering the ingredients and having soyoung constantly screaming and fangirling over tiktok edits of jaehyun from NCT. one note: she has yet to know that you know them and that they’re your friends. you figured that it would be best to not let anyone know so as to avoid any situation that would put your friends in a tight spot, since well they’re idols, you were looking for one last item that you had trouble finding.

“soyoung help me! stop watching tiktoks!” you groan, snatching soyoung’s phone away and shoving it in her back pocket. soyoung rolls her eyes lazily and the two of you proceeded to scan the different isles and shelves, looking over every item.

while you were too concentrated looking at the bottom shelves, you felt that you have bumped into someone. you squat down, letting out a soft ‘ouch’ before standing up and looking to see who you bumped into.

“wait. jaemin?” you furrow your eyebrows as you tilt your head, pointing your finger at the guy in front of you. “raven!” you noticed that it was jaemin after all, and both your faces lit up and the same time, grinning widely at each other.

“uhhh..” soyoung says out loud, you and jaemin turn your heads to face soyoung who was behind you. “oh! this is jaemin. we used to be neighbourhood friends before he moved out 4 years ago.” you introduced jaemin to soyoung. jaemin nodded and gave her a bright smile. soyoung only shrugged her shoulders and took out her phone. you turn your attention back to jaemin.

“why are you even here? dont you live quite far?” you ask, your fingers interlocked behind your back. jaemin nods, running a hand through his hair.

“well yes. but we came here to find something that only this supermarket sells.” jaemin replied back, his warm smile never leaving his lips. you smile, reached your hand out to ruffle his hair, laughing softly afterwards. “we? who’re you with?” you stared at jaemin with eyes of suspicion. jaemin started pinching your cheeks, making you whine and begging him to let go.

“with my friend, ray chill. im still single.” jaemin pulled away and folded his arms, pouting. “im sure you’ll find one soon.” you reached out to ruffle his hair and give off a wide smile.

while you and jaemin were catching up and being in your own world, soyoung got too bored of watching the two of you and decided to walk around the supermarket, leaving the cart behind you.

just as she was looking at the drinks isle to get her favourite sweet drink, she sees someone picking up a bunch of bottles one by one and placing them back on the shelve. out of kindness, she decided to help, picking up a bottle and placing it on fhe shelve before looking up to face the guy, who had a straight face while looking at her.

“i was just trying to help. im soyoung.” soyoung smiled, reaching her hand out and waiting for thr guy to greet back. he looked at her but doesn’t respond, proceeding to pick up the last bottle that was seen on the floor. “im jeno.” jeno stands up and nods his head to greet soyoung. soyoung nods back, walking down the isle to grab her drink from the shelve. “have a nice day.” soyoung says before leaving the isle and disappearing out of jeno’s sight. he only shrugged in response and went to do his own thing.

“you met who?!” haechan asks as he takes a sip of his ice cold water. everyone had their heads turned to jaemin, who raised an eyebrow at everyone’s weird expression. “i met my old friend raven. what’s so shocking?” jaemin asks back casually, picking up a few pieces of fries and dipping it into the sauce before shoving it in his mouth.

“dude that’s the name of mark’s soulmate!” haechan screams, making everyone flinch due to the loud noise. “i highly doubt it. there’s plenty of girls in the world with the name raven.” jaemin protests with his mouth full and chugging down gulps of coca cola.

“i mean that’s true. jeno you were with jaemin, right? dont you suspect anything?” renjun starts to question jeno, who was silently playing with his phone. looking up at the others, he gulps.

“i didn’t know he met his friend. i was picking out drinks. i just met a girl named soyoung.” jeno shrugs, taking a bite of his burger. mark scratches the back of his head, now starting to think of the fact that jaemin might have met his soulmate. though he also thought about how that could not be totally possible.

“nah i dont think its her. like really ‘raven’ could be anyone.” mark says, siding with jaemin. haechan tilts his head in awe. “jaemin do you know what school she’s going to?” jaemin only shakes his head.

“i lost all contact with her when i left her neighbourhood. plus we were young. i barely knew her honestly.” the living room falls silent, everyone trying to think of a conclusion to this.

chenle groans, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on the table, gathering everyone’s attention as their heads shot up. “instead of pondering as if yall are solving some crime, why dont mark just ask her through the sticky note god dammit?” chenle pinches the bridge of his nose.

everyone’s mouths gape open as the room was suddenly filled with ‘ah’s all over. chenle shakes his head. everyone was now looking intensively at mark. mark furrows his eyebrows. “okay guys hold up ill grab the stick note.” mark stands up and takes one bite of his burger before going into his room for awhile and coming out with a sticky note and a pen.

jaemin noticed jeno being silent the whole way. and althought thats normal since its jeno’s nature and personality to not be so outspoken like the others, jaemin could sense that jeno was off and seem to be in deep thoughts.

and jaemin was right. jeno couldnt stop thinking about jaemin’s encounter with ‘raven’. the name sounded so familiar. he tried to recall every girl he has came into contact with during his life. why did he feel like the name was tied to the handwriting he saw on the sticky notes?

“jeno.” jaemin nudged him in the shoulder. jeno mumbled a soft ‘oh’ before turning his attention to mark just like the others. “she didn’t send me a reply after my last one though.” mark says, looking up.

“its fine. she probably didn’t see it. just write already.” chenle says in anticipation. mark shakes his head. “calm the heck down its not like we can get an answer immediately.” mark rolls his eyes and began to write.

hey raven. um i know this may sound weird. but have you gone to a supermarket and met a guy names jaemin? im not a stalker i swear. its just that he’s my friend and apparently you know him. though i dont think that such a coincidence and come by just like that. hope you hear from you soon.

jeno stared at the sticky note that mark proceeded to place at a random wall of the living room while everyone continued to eat and chat. his thoughts finally linked and a imaginary lightbulb appeared on above his head when he finally realises why he was so drawn to mark’s soulmate.

you were focused on wanting to solve a math question when the sticky note above your desk’s wall had fallen in front of you, revealing a new message. you place your pen down and let out a sigh, remembering that you hsve forgotten to write a reply and that mark probably sent you another one.

you tied your hair in a messy low bun before picking up the sticky note to get a closer view. you blink your eyes rapidly as your eyes furrow in awe. what the note said really shocked you and made you freeze in your spot. jaemin is friends with your soulmate? there’s no way.

you sat there for awhile as you constantly read over the words, still in shock with your moutb hanging open. you just couldn’t believe it. was it really what it seemed to be? another thought came to your mind as well. the thought of just who is this friend of jaemin’s? could it be mark? was your soulmate literally in the same place as you yet you never knew?

you grab a fresh new piece of sticky note and proceeded to write a reply after staring at it for so long and thought that it was finally time that you do something.

okay what you wrote really was weird. jaemin’s my old neighbourhood friend. its such a coincidence how you know him. i guess the connections are there. so haha yeah. damn. im very mind blown right now.

you take a look at your handwriting again, smiling to yourself. “i really do love my handwriting.” you mumble under your breath. you stuck the sticky note on the wall and resumed doing your homework, hoping that mark would reply soon.

while the boys were immersed in the horror movie they were watching on friday night, everyone turned their heads to each other when they heard the noise of a piece of paper falling onto the floor. in unison, everyone turned their head to where the noise came from and seeing the sticky note that fell.

jisung grabs the controller and pauses the movie. “we’re watching a scary movie and creepy stuff like that happens?!” jisung asks, stuttering out of complete fear.

mark decided to be the brave one after seeing everyone’s terrified face and stands up to pick up the sticky note, going back to take his seat on the couch soon after. “d-does that always happen?” mark shrugs. “well duh. that’s how i know she sent a reply. it wouldn’t be this scary if we weren’t watching a horror movie.”

everyone’s heads once again gather around mark as he read the note out loud. everyone gapes their mouth open, some covered their mouths while jeno could only stare at it in disbelief. “i guess we’ve confirmed its her.” mark breathes out, placing the sticky note on the table.

jeno reaches out to grab the sticky note to have a look. the unique handwriting that he suspected would belong to you really was yours. out of anger, he tears the sticky notes into two. everyone had their eyes widened at jeno’s sudden shocking action. mark snatches the now torn note back, looking down at them before facing jeno.

“what the heck was that for?!”

“dont talk to her anymore. she’s trouble.”

everyone lets out a sigh in unison except for mark, looking at everyone’s weird reaction. “what do you mean trouble? and why does it look like you all know something except me?” mark furrows his eyes as everyone exchanged glances continuously for a moment.

“she’s just not someone you should be with. that’s all.” jeno stands up and walks to his room, slamming the door shut and produring a piercing noise. the room was silent for awhile until mark speaks up.

“what am i missing here you guys?”

no one replies.

“we’ve been friends for a year and you guys are all keeping secrets for me?” mark scoffs in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“we arent in the position to tell you. its jeno.” jaemin murmurs under his breath, looking down on the ground just like the others.

marks keeps silent and stands up from the couch, the palm the torn note was in is balled into a fist as he goes into his room as well.

haechan sighs. “jeno has to tell the truth. he’s been holding onto that grudge almost forever now.”

everyone nods their heads in agreement. “if not, he’s going to live in despair now that he knows she’s his best friend’s soulmate..” jisung adds on. 

everyone could only silently hope that things could go well. 

after that day you’ve sent a reply, you havent heard from mark since. you dont know why. due to your lack of information on him, it felt as if he disappeared into thin air. although only a week has past by, you felt concerned and somewhat worried for him. did something happen to him? what made him cut off his connection with you? its not like you did anything wrong. 

out of pure desperation, you decided to skip school today. youve never skipped school before, and you felt so rebellious and bad. why did you do this? so you could go to dream high and meet mark in person. youve had enough of the sticky notes. you just wanted to see how he was like in real life, not having to think about it through notes. 

with a little help from jaemin by texting him on instagram, you knew that mark’s class should be ending by 4pm, and you were there at 3:50 in the canteen where jaemin told you to wait. funny how the security guard lets a student from another school come in with a pass or anything.

you slowly start seeing groups of students going down the flight of stairs that lead to the canteen which had a path leading to the front gates. some eyes glanced at you as they notice someone who doesnt belong at their school, you couldnt care less though. your thoughts were only filled with mark. how he looked like, how he would carry himself. your anticipation was the only thing you felt.

you wore your headphones yet you could suddenly hear a lot of squealing and shouting. you look up, turning you attention to the stairs. a large group of girls crowding around another group of people, who you assumed to be guys. you scoffed, thinking about how there’s always that one group of good looking guys all girls seem to go crazy for. you watch as the group of guys push through the large crowd.

once you got a closer look, you tilt your head to the side. you slowly bring your headphone down from your ears and let them rest on your neck, getting intrigued by how the girls were getting so crazy, even more crazy than the ones from your school.

“its mark! he’s so cute!” 

you widen your eyes as you heard the word ‘mark’. you stood up from your seat, peering your head up to find which one is the girl referring to. you only see two guys walking. one smiling sheepishly while the other kept a straight and cold face. just which one is mark?

suddenly, you felt an arm grabbing yours and pulling you back. you jump out of fear and turn around noticing it was jaemin. you calmed your breathing as you look at jaemin. 

“meet mark under the block nearby. its too hectic here for you to talk to him.”

jaemin dragged you out of the school grounds and to a secluded block where only a few students where walking past and left you there. you were lost in confusion but decided to trust whatever jaemin was doing, sitting down at a random bench.

“jaemin told us to meet him here where is-” 

“raven.”

“what?”

you immediately stood in front of the two guys you saw at the canteen as you notice a familiar face. you werent able to get a clear look at them before, but now you realise that you knew one of them. “jeno..” you look at a different direction a you tried avoiding his gaze, though you knew you couldnt, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

mark looks at the both of you, utterly confused as his attention shifts from you to jeno constantly. “this raven?” mark points at you, tilting his head. you nod slowly as your turn your head to face mark. you observed his body up and down. he was good looking, just like jeno.. yet his aura told you that he was way more outgoing and open than jeno. 

“you look...”

everyone was silent.

you gulp in nervousness. “im busy. bye mark.” before jeno could go, mark pulled on his arm to bring him back to stand beside him, earning a glare from jeno. the one you could never forget. “stay. i know something happened. you were always quiet whenever we talked about this girl. and i also know you all kept something from me.”

you slowly turned to jeno. you could he was annoyed whenever he looked at you. you felt it through his eyes, and it was terrifying. jeno took a deep breath in, folding his arms and placing his weight on one leg. 

“if you remember clearly, chenle told you that before we became friends with you, we had a fight and didnt talk to each other for a long time. we didnt tell you this, but it was her who caused it. she brought chaos into our group. everyone forgotten about it clearly, but i cant. after what she did.. i cant forgive her.”

you opened your mouth, wanting to reply but your words were somehow stuck in your throat. you didnt exactly know what to say or do in this awkward situation.

“it.. it was a long time ago jeno, please. my feelings for you were real, even if we werent meant to be. i dont know how many times you need me to say sorry.” you pleaded, biting your lip as you waited for jeno’s reaction.

jeno sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a huff of rustration. “then why did you leave? you left me stranded, and because of you, i almost left my friends becaused i lived in agony since i missed you so much. i almost pushed everyone away.” you shivered as jeno’s voice started to raise. 

 you also glanced at mark, who still kept his confused expression on his face. through his gaze never left you as you felt his eyes scanning you body up and down. 

“you two used date?” mark asks. you nod in reply.

“we were kids. we didnt know about all this soulmate stuff. but now..” 

“you know what? be together. im not going to leave my friends just because of my pent up grudge and feelings. i cant control fate either.” 

years had now past since you met mark. it really was fate. the two of you became close in no time and now.. you were fianally married. you couldnt be more happy to be with mark. who you were destined to be really was made for you, and you only. and to think this all escalated due to a note you sent out in pure curiosity.

you still remember what happened with jeno after that day, despite the lack of interaction between you two, jeno was open enough to accept you as his friend again. you are now living a happy life with mark, and always being able to hang out with his group of friends. today was no different. 

“haechan get the chilli sauce!” you hear mark shout as you smile widely, feeling his arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. having a barbeque was a great idea to celebrate jisung’s birthday. 

you soon see haechan with the bottle of chilli sause, placing it on the table where everyone gathered around the table which had jisung’s birthday cake. “before we do anything with the cake, let me announce my wish.” jisung announces proudly. you raise an eyebrow. “you cant say you birthday wish out loud!” you scolded jisung, but everyone laughs.

“his wish is something we all know.” jeno says, winking playfully at you. you tilt your head in confusion when you suddenly feel mark’s arm leaving you waist. you look over to mark who was shoving his hand into his pocket as if to find something.

you were completely clueless when mark nods towards jisung, to show some kind of signal. “i wish for mark and raven to get married!” jisung shouts. 

you gaped your mouth open in shock when mark pulls out a small box, opening it in front of you to show a ring. you cover your mouth in disbelief. “did you guys really-”

“please marry me, raven. my sticky note soulmate.” you hear everyone clapping s a tear of happiness drips from your cheek. you quickly wipe it away as you heard the nickname that mark gave you. “we wouldnt normally do this but it was jeno that suggested this.”

you look over to jeno who had a soft smile on his face as he nod his head. looking back at mark, you grin widely as more tears started flowing out. “of course ill marry you, you dork.”

[max-is-tired]

Everything (everything will be just fine)

Pairing: established background Anxceitmus, the fic itself is Virgil-centric

Characters: Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remus Sanders

Words: 1.304

Warnings: one (1) light sexual innuendo, deadnaming, misgendering, controlling parents, swearing, sympathetic Remus & Deceit

Notes: man I keep posting these fics later and later uh nsakjscncjk anyway, have some Virgil being confident and standing up to his parents, heck yeah. Also, big thanks to @figurative-siren-song for the prompt, I sure had lots of fun writing it <3

Commission me!!  Buy me a coffee!!  Join my Discord server!!  AO3!!

To say that Virgil was anxious would have been an understatement.

Every nerve of his body felt as if it was on fire, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he fought with everything he had not to break down right in the middle of the living room -there was no way his parents were going to miss that, and then he’d have to explain why exactly he was having an anxiety attack and he really did not want to do that.

Not yet at least, not until he was out of the house and ready to leave. If anything were to happen before that, Virgil was 99% sure things would not end up great. For him, anyway.

His phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket, startling him out of his thoughts.

[HissHissMotherfucker] hey, hows it going over there?

[GreenGoblinMan] ik i already offered but if you need me to i still have enough time to come over

[GreenGoblinMan] my morning star and i are great at emotional support :{D

Virgil snorted, shaking his head with a smile -god, why did he have to fall in love with these two dorks?

[RacoonMan] skjcndkjcn

[RacoonMan] we’re about to start loading up the trunk, so the Talk hasnt happened yet

[RacoonMan] and i think ill take a raincheck on that one, rem. i dont want to have to bail you out again

[GreenGoblinMan] awww D}:

[HissHissMotherfucker] dont worry spider, ill make sure he doesnt try to sneak out

[HissHissMotherfucker] do let us know when youre on your way though, we’ve got nightmare before christmas and black cauldron all set up and ready to go

[GreenGoblinMan] and i made grilled cheese!!! the edible kind, dee didnt let me play with any fun ingredients this time

[RacoonMan] you guys know im not big on cheesy shit

[RacoonMan] but god i love you a lot right now

[GreenGoblinMan] ilyt vevee!! and you can show us just how much you love us when you get here :{D

[HissHissMotherfucker] aaaaaaaand moment gone

Virgil huffed out another small laugh, bringing up the keyboard to type out an answer, only to be interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking in a deep breath as he steeled himself for what was about to come.

“Anne!” his mother called, stepping into the living room with a big smile. “Are you ready, dear?”

Virgil barely let himself wince at the mention of his deadname, far too used to it by now -if everything went according to plan, after today he wasn’t going to hear that name ever again anyway.

“Yup, all packed up and ready to be loaded in the car.”

Virgil’s dad nodded in understanding, the last of the boxes from upstairs still perched up in his arms.

“Very well, then let’s get started,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the front door they’d opened beforehand.

Virgil nodded, crouching down to take a few boxes of his own. Immediately, his mother shot forward, resting her hand on his forearm with a frown.

“Honey, let your dad handle the heavy lifting,” she said, voice sickeningly sweet, “that’s not something a girl should have to deal with.”

“Well, thank fuck I’m not a girl then,” Virgil wanted to say, feeling the familiar irritation bubble up in his gut. Still, he kept silent, biting the inside of his cheek until the urge passed.

Just a little more. He had to deal with all of this just a little bit more.

“Don’t worry mom, I got this,” he said instead, carefully shrugging her hand away. “Besides, if I let dad do all the work then I’d risk being late and getting stuck in the rush hour traffic, which I really don’t want to deal with.”

His mother huffed but relented, following Virgil out of the door as he went to settle the boxes on the asphalt beside the open trunk.

“I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t want us to come with, honestly,” she kept pressing, crossing her arms in obvious displeasure. “We can help you set your room up, make sure everything is alright…”

And that’s exactly why I don’t want you to come, Virgil thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he walked back towards the house.

It didn’t take them long to load the whole car up, and before Virgil knew it, everything was set up and ready to go.

Well, time to get this show on the road, he guessed.

“We can still come with you, you know that right?” his father remarked for the fifth time in less than an hour. “Your college is not too far away, after all.”

“At least text us once you get there,” his mother huffed, “and remember, no pit stops or something of the like. Drive straight to your dorm, you understand me, young girl?”

This time, Virgil did roll his eyes, walking around the car towards the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry mom, the only place I want to be right now is my apartment.”

Virgil could almost pinpoint the moment his words registered for his parents, instinctively tightening his hand around his phone as his heart started to speed up again.

The device buzzed and he looked down again, seeing the new message blinking up at him from the screen.

[HissHissMotherfucker] you can do this, Virgil. We believe in you

Virgil smiled, his grip loosening as a sudden surge of confidence filled his chest. With Dee and Remus by his side, he felt as if he could overcome anything.

“You’re going to a college dorm, Anne, not an apartment,” his mother pointed out, eyes reduced to slits as she dared him to contradict her.

Virgil met her gaze head-on, the most unafraid he’d ever felt around his parents.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, “I’m going to my apartment, where my boyfriends are waiting for me. I told you I didn’t want to go to college, not my fault you didn’t listen.”

“And what, you’re going to throw away your future like that?!” his father asked, looking absolutely flabbergastered. “You need your college degree, you can’t just throw away years of work and savings because you want to be rebellious!”

“No, you were the one who wanted me to go to college!” Virgil countered, ignoring the way his heart jumped in his chest when his father raised his voice. “I told you I wasn’t interested, but you never listened! Because what do I know, right? It’s not like this is my life we’re talking about or anything! And you can keep that money, I don’t need it -I have my own, and a job waiting just for me as soon as I settle in my new home.”

“You’re making a mistake,” his father warned, voice low and angry in a way that made Virgil’s stomach instinctively twist in fear. “Don’t think you’ll be able to just crawl back here for forgiveness when your little plan blows up.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not planning on it,” Virgil seethed, finally entering the car and starting the engine.

“Don’t you dare drive out of this driveway, young lady!” his mother shouted, slamming her hand on the car seat on Virgil’s right. “No daughter of mine will go waste her life with such bad influences!”

“Well, thank god I’m not your daughter then,” Virgil shot back, before pressing his foot over the accelerator and finally, finally leaving everything behind.

Once he reached a red light at an intersection, he let out a relieved laugh, resting his head on the steering wheel. Grinning, he slipped out his phone, typing out a quick text before taking the first turn towards his new life.

[RacoonMan] get ready to unload an entire car worth of things fuckers

[RacoonMan] im coming

[ivyuns]

landing in my heart: paragliding

han jisung

genre: angst

word count: 2.1k

warnings: location spots are in north and south korea, language, mentions of mines, weapons, death, cliffhanger, if i missed anything plz lmk :)

A/N: first part of landing in my heart series! changsik is y/n’s helper for la vie en rose

navigation

landing in my heart information

LIMH chapters

“tomorrow, the story about you and actor sangu will be posted”

“itll say how you two were just pranking fans that you two are together. as you see, the picture just shows that you were just holding his wrist. plus your face is blurred so there shouldnt be a problem” changsik says.

you turn off your phone and start paying attention to changsik. “okay but can we do something about the blur effect?” you asked. “oh, do you want me to ask them to blur your face more?” “no, its just that they put the effect on my earrings. you know those earrings are rare to get in the collection”

everyone in the meeting takes a big sigh. “ah, purchasing manager. what are you going to do?” you asked as he slams his note taking book close. “pardon?” “the earrings, purse, shoes. you need to make sure theyre in stock at all times” nodding his head, he goes to restock the items you told him to.

exiting your office, everyone talks about you. “is that her?” “she looks ugly in person” “hes probably with her for her money”. continuing walking behind your bodyguards, you get a call from an unknown number.

“look at you. you look like a celebrity or something”

“who is this?”

“i- you dont even have my number saved? its your eldest brother, sejun.  anyways since you dont keep up with the news, dad is coming back home from probation. you should probably come by the house and greet him”

pausing your tracks, “is this your number?” “yes, please just save it” “dont get another number or blocking it for two times will be annoying” you said and blocked sejun.

hesitating to enter your family’s house as you heard sejun and sehyeong argue about who will be deserves to inherit the family company during diner and your dad yelling out where were you. stepping into the house, the house was quiet.

“hello dad. congratulations on getting out on probation. i heard you wanted me to be here. is there anything you need to speak to me about?”

“you should move back in” “is that all? i was wondering why. you look great by the way. please take care of your heath. i just came here to say hello so ill be leaving now” you waved goodbye and walked towards the exit.

“i want you to take my position” you dad tells you before you could exit the room. “dad!” your brothers yell out. turning around, you see everyone looking at you as your mom shakes her head towards you. “you left home and started your own company for 10 years, i think you deserve it”

hesitating to answer, you agreed to take the position which annoyed the brothers. finally exiting the room, you left the house with fear in you.

“shall we start?” you asked as everyone gets your parachute ready for paragliding. running off the cliff, you begin floating in the sky with a huge smile on your face. “miss yoon, please be careful!”

peacefully enjoying the scenery, you take notes on how beautiful it was. you then see a floating tractor. worry takes place as you realize theres a tornado happening. trying to not get in it, the wind forcefully takes you to the tornado, making you scream out for help.

-

north korean boarder

jisung heads to the northern side of demilitarized zone to patrol with company five and a few other soldiers and hears shooting going on. quietly walking into the direction of everything going on as a group, jisung stops as soon as he hears what type of guns theyre using.

“captain han, theyre heading into this direction, judging by the sound of the gunshots” hyunjin pauses, “maybe its a deserter from the south-” “the combat site is 400m away from our current location. going in at 11 o’clock, total count is 10. k2 automatic title, six in total. and tokarev tt-33, three are in use” jisung tells them.

“whats tt-33?” seungmin asked. “theyre our camrades” jisung answered and started walking with his group behind him. seeing whats going on as he saw three men on the ground and the military of the south, he gave him group a signal to continue walking. lifting their guns up, the southern sees them and puts their guns up as well.

“step back. take one more step and youll enter our garrison” jisung shouts out. “hand these three over and well be gone” one of the soldiers said. “theyre our camrades” jisung answers. “captain! we got the state security departments approval and came here to hunt deers but we got lost by the tornado” one of the men on the ground said.

“they crossed the southern limit line and caught digging cultural artifacts” the same soldier said and shows proof. “is anyone injured?” jisung asked as the southern military puts their guns towards him more. “the problem is solved. put your guns down and we will too. i swear on my countrys honor and will stictly punish them. when it comes to punishments, we, the north will certainly outdo the south. well drop our weapons on the count of three.”

by the count of three, everyone puts their weapons down. the three men on their knees sees a gun in front of them and grabs it. trying to shoot the soldiers, jisung quickly grabs them. everyone puts their guns up till- “just return, dont get into conflict with the north” “do you hear me? dont conflict with the south” the radios from both sides said.

after gathering the three men and tying them, company five got them as jisung stayed behind. making sure the south was gone.

back at the gate, jisung is in front of the car that the three men are in as he waits from cheolgang to arrive. seeing him arrive, he stands up straight and salutes him, as well as hyunjin and seungmin. cheolgang sees the three men in the car and turns to jisung.

“greetings sir. company five is is on standby to transfer the grave robbers, who we arrested in the northen demilitarized zone” jisung tells cheolgang. “good work. anything else?” jisung relaxes and tells him how some of the fences were down due to the tornado. “we should tighten security for the area thats damanged until everything is fixed”

cheolgang nods his head. “they probably crossed the southern line due to misunderstanding so let their punishment be lenient” “it happened in our patrol zone. this cannot be taken lightly” “you are well aware that the state security department gave them permission for them to be here” cheolgang says.

“are you saying that they gave them permission to pass the demilitarized zone just to collect artifacts?” jisung asked, feeling annoyed with cheolgang. “of course not, captain han” he chuckles, making company five tensed. “i told the south that they will be taken for punishment, and i shall keep that promise” “do whatever you want, but i do have a promise. i, jo cheolgang, never go easy on anyone. no matter what their ranks are. if you create any act that may threaten our army security, youll be finished right on the spot. but of course, youll never do that” cheolgang finishes. jisung salutes him as he leaves.

south korea

“but i need to get there, i need to see miss yoon” changsik says as he heard people said that youre nowhere to be found. as he sees someone on the stretcher, he starts tearing up as he thinks youre dead. the police comforts him and sees the cameraman that was supposed to take videos of you in the sky. “hey! wheres my boss?” changsik yells at him. “i dont know” he cries out in pain. “didnt you have a camera? why didnt you take a video of everything?” “in that situation, i couldnt. i nearly died!”

changsik was left alone as the rest of the rescue crew tried to find you. “gosh why did you have to make yourself do this y/n”

-

north korean boarder

you wake up, high up in a tree. as you yell out for help. as jisung and seungmin is around the area, he stops walking and asks seungmin if he heard anything. shaking his head, seungmin gets a call from the other company five members, asking for him to come back and help with the fence. jisung gives him a signal to go and looks around the area.

as jisung sees you in the trees, you look down. “excuse me, can you help me get out of here” seeing his metal and gun pointing at you, you quickly unbuckle everything and falls onto jisung. realizing, you quickly get off of him.

“ah, did you come here from the north? are you a defector? welcome to the republic of korea” you said. “r-republic of korea? i think youre mistaken. i didnt go to the south. you came to the north” not believing what he said, you looked around and saw his serious face. “since you came here, youll be taken for investigation” jisung says. “huh?! wait i didnt mean to come here at all-” “then explain everything to them like that.

after arguing, you ran but was stopped by jisung yelling you to stop since theyre mines in the area. “dont move or else youll loose an ankle-” jisung pause as he accidentally steps on a mine. “are you okay” you asked. “im fine” “are you sure because you dont look fine-” “i said im fine!”

jisung grabs his walkie talkie to call seungmin for help when his grip failed and the device fell into the river. walking to the walkie talkie, you picked it up. “thank you for picking it up-” “who said i was gonna give it to you?” jisung sighs. “tell me which way i need to go first” “follow the path and when you meet with two paths, take the right one”

after telling you the directions, seungmin calls out jisungs name. “im here!’’ jisung yells out. fear taking over you, you quickly ran.

seungmin finds jisung on a mine and quickly sets him free. “captain han, is there anything wrong?” seungmin asks. “let the crew know that someone is in the zone by accident” “huh? is it a spy?” “no, a south korean girl who accidentally came here” seungmin nods his head and lets the crew know what happened by radio.

as you ran, you took the left path instead, not trusting jisung. you came across of a field that had a sign saying ‘mine field’. turning around to a safer route, you see the soldiers looking for you. headed to the minefield instead, you ran through it and the soldiers made a detour to get you.

as seungmin and hyunjin are trying to get you, you saw a broken tree on the fence, thinking it will lead you to the south again. as youre on the top, you see the two men giving you signals to not go there. not listening, you jumped over the fence as you saw hyunjin raise his gun at you and fired.

as you kept running, you passed jeongin who was reading a letter from his mother in the fields. as you were running still, you ran into a forest and tripped on a rock. “mom-” you said quietly. trying to pull yourself up, you go back into the past. everytime you fell, you would always cry out for your moms name. but realizing how weak you relationship with her was weak and she was not here with you.

regaining your strength, you got up and walked.

back in south korea, your mom gets a call saying that you were lost and tells the rest of the family. sejun and sehyeong and their wives are pleased, knowing that one of them will get their dads position.

“honey, you need to make sure you get this position” sanga tells sehyeong. “but you still need to find minseok” sehyeong nods. “dont worry sanga”

“hyung. do you think sehyeong will find me?” minseok asks mr oh. “i think we should go somewhere else, i dont think its safe here anymore” minseok nods his head and packs up to go somewhere else.

as an old lady asks for a ride as she sees military trucks, she was rejected. she then sees three men in one of the trucks. as they hit the end of the road, she sees another truck hitting them and another one, making the truck that the three men are in fall into a ravine and explode. she gathers her stuff and tries to run away when another truck runs into her.

after walking for miles in the dark, you ran into a village. feeling relieved, you smiled. until you saw the lights shut on, you were met with music going on. seeing everyone getting ready for their morning routine, she now believes shes deeper into north korea,

just as the leader enters the village, jisung quickly grabbed you and hid you in his chest from getting caught.

[theravenclawrevolutionary]

For those of you interested in my novel

So I’ve gained quite a few new followers recently and seeing as I post about my novel more often and more consistently than anything else I thought I’d provide some more information on it. @jefflion also said they’d be interested in hearing more about it, so this is also for them.

All posts about my novel are tagged ‘robespierre novel’ and starting today will be tagged ‘The Incorruptible Corrupted’.

There’s a lot I can ramble about here, so if you’re interested everything I feel ready to reveal right now is under the cut. If you don’t care pls go ahead and scroll.

As I’m sure you’ve noticed by my tags my novel is about Maximilien Robespierre. Just like everything else on this blog. To be more specific, I’m writing a biographical historical fiction that follows the course of his life from the time he’s born to his execution. I’m sure you’ve all seen those sort of books before.

I’m hoping to make it as historically accurate as I possibly can while still making it an enjoyable fiction novel. My book’s going to contain historical figures and events as well as original characters and events to fill in what we don’t know about Robespierre’s life.  As of right now it’s roughly 41,000 words long and I’m going to keep writing until I reach the end of Maxime’s life so the length is completely undecided.

Currently the working title is ‘Maxime’ because I have no better ideas and I already used the freaking awesome title of ‘The Incorruptible, Corrupted’ as the title of my most successful Wattpad work which is a 10,000 word novella also about Robespierre. So if anyone has any good ideas, please suggest them. I really need some.

The fancy little book description blurb reads as follows:

Revolutions change everything, especially the individuals involved in them and fate has a strange way of calling people.

At the beginning of his life, it would have been impossible to know that Maximilien Robespierre would go from a small-town scandal to the most powerful man in France. The quiet boy born in Arras with his mother's green eyes and none of his father's flightiness showed no early signs of a relentless revolutionary leader, determined to overthrow the oppressive monarchy. Yet by the actions of others, his own skill, and his intelligence Maximilien finds himself navigating the dangerous and everchanging world of revolutionary France, thrust onto a fragile pedestal of leadership, handcrafted by his ideals.

It’s very character driven (I mean it really has to be because all of Max’s choices are legit the plot.) and it’s insanely fun to transform Max from a carefree little boy in Arras to someone stressed, broken, and thrust into awful situation after awful situation! That low key sounds kinda sadistic, but it’s fine... right? Lol. But I feel like I’m able to really develop my characters and give everyone fully fleshed out personalities and everything. I dunno. I just feel like it’s helping me understand the time period and historical figures better. Also I get to learn all kinds of cool stuff I never would have needed to research without trying to write this book.

It’ll probably end up being a book for high school kids and older seeing as some of the topics in it are suited to slightly older audiences, including but not limited  to:

Swear words, mild gore, mentioned suicide attempts, (possible) implied sexual content, scenes containing violence, time-period typical prejudices, mental illness, and death.

I plan on handling those topics as carefully and respectfully as possible to remain as accurate to history as I can while respecting those who have issues with these subjects.

There’s also average stuff though. It talks a lot about family, friendships/loss of friendships, romance, crushes, and growing up, all stuff you would find in non-historical books.

As a member of the LGBT+ community I want to make sure that my books have adequate LGBT+ representation. History wasn’t straight 100% of the time so representation will definitely be included in my interpretation of some historical figures and the original characters. Currently I have a few characters who are asexual, bi-romantic, bisexual, and gay.

 Highlights include:

Max with motion sickness (especially him throwing up on Charlotte during a carriage ride as a kid)

Augustin getting bit by one of his brother’s birds and having a scar for the rest of his life

Camille being nicknamed Cami

At least three people being in love with Max throughout the book and him being oblivious every time

A friend-group consisting of an inelegant girl and her just as chaotic twin brother, a red head and his British cousin who lives in France now, two quiet geniuses, and occasionally the twins’ older brothers who have nothing better to do

One of Max’s aunts straight up telling him his mom is dying and regretting it as soon as she says it

Max making a friend on accident while hiding at school and being an absolute icon for not being a racist (said character is mixed, but has a light enough complexion to attend school during the time period)

The number of times Maxime has a panic attack or almost faints

Six year old Max chasing four year old Charlotte with a worm, falling in the mud, and losing a tooth

The time eleven year old Max gets KISSED and doesn’t realize the girl kissing him likes him

Max being upset that an eleven year old isn’t allowed to take classes with fourteen year olds for developmental reasons

Camille and Max accidently hating each other, becoming roommates at school, and becoming pretty much best friends all in one day

The most boring school in the world

I legit could talk about my book for ages, but this post is long enough already so  I’ll chill out a little. if you guys have anything to ask about it that I haven’t covered here please lemme know. And of course as usual, the same goes for any other questions pertaining to the French revolution in general.

~Dara

[starbuckie]

Some Quarantine Lovin’  Chapter 1: A Phone Call

Marvel Highschool! AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

Words: 2,272 words

A/N: Hey y’all, I’m back. Here’s the new and improved chapter, because the last one was a but messed up. Thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, they mean so much to me. I’ve been having a lot of fun writing this series, and I’m excited for the rest of the series. I’ll probably be posting weekly, so thanks for sticking with me. 

Y/N walked into the office, pep in her step and a huge smile on her face. Dear God, she hoped her parents said yes. Her parents loved Bucky a lot, they always told him every chance they could, but she didn’t know if they would even allow this. She took a deep breath, and looked into the eyes of the administrative assistant at the desk. “Hey Mr. Coulson, how are you this morning?” Y/N asked.

“Y/N, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Phil,” Phil chuckled, “you’re making me feel so old!”

“Sorry Phil,” she replied, “could I call my mom real quick?” Though she had a phone herself, her school’s cell service was absolute crap, and her phone refused to connect to the wifi, bringing her to the office to use the school phone. She usually tried to avoid the office at all costs, but this call meant everything to her. 

“Sure, what for?” This is where she knew it would get tricky. If it was anything besides an injury, illness, or being sent home, the office would not allow her to call home. They were strict like that.

So, without any other choice, she lied. “I’m not feeling too good right now. My head hurts so much, and it's pounding a lot.” She put on her best show of weakness.

Phil frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want any Advil? I think it’ll help your head feel better.” He moved his hand to his desk drawer and started to open it.

“Actually, it’s my head and my stomach. They both don’t feel good. And I hurt my foot. A lot.” She knew she was laying it on thick, but she leaned on her right foot to make it seem as if she couldn’t bear to put pressure on the other. Phil knew something was up, but he only narrowed his eyes and nodded.

“The extension is a one before the area code.” He said, but she was already fake-limping as fast as she could to the room next door. 

“Thanks Phil!” She yelled back. Y/N made it to the door, opened it, and peered inside to make sure the lounge was empty. Once she knew she was in the clear, she rushed to the phone to dial her mom’s work number in. Pressing it to her ear, it ringed a few times, until she heard the static and her mom’s voice.

“Hello there, Mary L/N, how can I help you?” Her mom’s cheery voice made her calm down a bit, but then she remembered her mission.  

“Hey mom, it’s me Y/N” 

“Oh hey sweetie, what’s up?”

Y/N decided to try and get this out fast to lessen the blow. “Y’know Bucky, right?”

Her mom’s chuckle was heard through the phone. “Of course, he’s been your friend since the third grade.”

“And how he’s living with his dad and Becca alone?” Her mom’s hum of agreement prompted her to say her next words. “I was wondering if Bucky and Becca could stay here during quarantine. And, before you say anything, I know that you’re gonna say we don’t have any supplies, but we do! We still have the baby crib for Becca, and Bucky can just stay in my room like normal, and it’ll be like a sleepover. A very long sleepover.” Y/N winced at the awkward phrasing of her last few words.

She could hear her mom’s sigh through the phone, and the thoughts running around in her head. “But, even with all that, and I really hate to bring this up too, what are we gonna do about money? We’ll have to buy resources for not three, but six people.” Y/N’s shoulders slumped at her words, and she exhaled through her nose deeply. 

Suddenly, like a godsend, she got a text from her sister. Thank whatever god is watching over cell phone service to allow them to receive this text, she thought as she read it. 

“Hey mom, Ria just texted, she’s staying with her boyfriend for quarantine.” She was sure her mom could hear the huge smile through her voice, but in the moment she didn’t care. Y/N was desperate for her mom to agree, because she knew that he and his sister wouldn’t be safe. Bucky would always be her priority, even if he didn’t love her back the same way. “Mom, I know that this is huge, but we used to have him over for weeks at a time. This will be the same. If you need me to, I can use all the money that I made over the summer, I can pay for Becca’s food, and the formula, and oh god, what else does a baby need-”

She was abruptly interrupted by her mom. “You will be owing me big time. Your dad is going to murder me.” Y/N grinned widely at her mom's words. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t fucking believe it. Her mom was allowing this. Bucky would be safe. Becca would be safe. “Before you go off running to talk to Buck, I should tell you to tell him that I need to voice a few concerns and rules.”

“Okay mom, thank you so, so much. I appreciate this so much, and I know Bucky and Becca will too. I’m gonna go tell him right now.”

“You’re welcome. God, I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Mrs. L/N wasn’t upset about it, no, she was ecstatic to get the Barnes children away from their asshole of a father, but she was going to get to care for them for however long the shelter and place would be going on. “Stop by the Barnes’ house and grab Becca and their things before you get home okay? Unless Mr. Barnes is there, then come straight home and I’ll go with you. You should also leave a note, if you can go inside.”

“You got it, mom. Again, thank you so, so much for this, but I gotta go back to the library to meet Steve and Buck. I love you tons!” Y/N said hurriedly. She was bursting with excitement to get her two favorite people away from their dad, and a month of spending time with her best guy friend that she happened to be in love with just added to it. 

“I love you so much, Y/N. See you after school.” As soon as her mom hung up, she bolted. She didn’t care if Mr. Coulson saw and questioned her, nor did she care that she was shoving people in the halls and being a large disruption. Y/N burst through the doors of the library, eyes scanning around the room for her two friends. She spotted Steve talking to the librarian, probably about another spelling error he found in the book he was reading. Another time, she would have made fun of him for it, but she marched straight up to him with a determined look.

“Where’s Buck?” She asked. Y/N must have looked slightly insane and menacing with her windswept hair and slightly ruffled shirt, because her tall blond friend looked downright terrified of her. With wide eyes, he pointed to a couch where Bucky sat with his headphones in and watched a video on a school laptop. She nodded towards Steve in thanks, and dashed off to Bucky. As she approached him, she tried to also figure out the best way to say this. Oh god, what if he’s mad? I didn’t ask if this was okay with him.

The shadow that fell over Bucky gave him the notice that someone was near. His blue eyes looked up and met her gaze. “Hey doll.” He took one more glance at her appearance (not like he didn’t stare at her regularly), and asked, “Did you happen to get caught in a tornado in your hurry to your destination?” They both chuckled, but he could also feel the nervousness and excitement radiating off her. “In all seriousness, what’s up?”

She opened her mouth then closed it. “I need to talk to you. Just you and me. Even though, if you agree to this, the rest of the gang’s gonna find out anyway.”

“Now I’m a little scared, what's happening?”

She took a deep breath.”Well, after you mentioned it earlier, I was reminded that during quarantine, you’d be staying with your dad alone.” Y/N knew it was a little difficult for Bucky to talk about his family, so she decided to break it down slowly to him, even though her nerves were rattling. “And I hate the idea of you and baby Becca staying there, because… y’know.” He nodded his head in understanding, and you got the courage to continue. “Well, I talked to my mom, and she said that you could stay with us. For the quarantine. As long as you need. We love you so much Buck, and so if you wanna, you can stay with us.”

Bucky stared at her with wide eyes, in shock, but soon enough they started to get glassy. God, he couldn’t believe that she would think of him for over break. Y/N was the most selfless and caring person he knew, and he was just in awe of her. He stood up and grasped the girl for a tight hug. His face hid in the crook of her neck, because he was trying so hard not to let anyone see his tears, but he was having trouble controlling the sobs that wracked his body. Thank God they were in the corner of the library with the couches, so no one could see him. Y/N’s hands ran soothingly up his back, and it stayed that way for a few minutes until Bucky finally looked back up at her. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “I would throw myself in front of a moving car for you Buck, okay? Never tell Tasha, but you’re my best friend. I’ll love you forever.” Her arms tightened around his waist again, and his heart was filled with relief and love. “After school we’ll swing by your house and if your father’s not home we’ll grab Becca, your stuff, leave a note for your dad, and go to my place, sound good?”

His heartbeat immediately increased its rate. And there’s the panic. “But what if he is home, Y/N? I don’t wanna leave Becca by herself for any longer than she has to be. And do you have any baby stuff? Or food? She has to have formula, and her food needs to be in this weird food processor thing, I don’t know what it’s called, and oh god-”

“Bucky!” She cut him off with a giggle and a hand over his mouth, which he would’ve probably found hot, had he not been freaking out. “Me and Ria were once babies, we have stuff to take care of Becca. My mom knows all the products she uses, and we have the crib from the last time you came over. And if your dad is home, then we’ll just take Becca with us to my house and have my mom drive us back to yours to get your stuff, so she’ll know we’re okay. We’ll be okay James.” Y/N stared at him dead in the eye, so he knew she was serious. She never, ever used his first name unless she was being earnest. 

He nodded. “We’ll be okay Y/N.” He released her from the hug, not wanting to make it awkward, but he regretted it, as he loved holding her in his arms. Looking to his left, he could see Steve bounding over to them.

“Ms. Moore said I need to stop talking to her about the typos and mistakes in the books, it’s like she’s completely unaffected by the flaws!” He exclaimed, but then he noticed the tears still resting on Bucky’s cheeks. “Hey Buck, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just Y/N offered to let me and Becca stay at her house for quarantine.” He sniffled and wiped the cuff of his sweatshirt against his face, looking to Y/N to find her already looking at him. Her small smile grew a little wider catching his eye, and she motioned toward the couch. 

“Let’s get down to work y’all.” The trio sat down on the small couch, Y/N squished in between the two boys. Bucky placed his headphones back on, resuming the video from before, but not really paying attention. No, he was paying more attention to the girl at his side, resting her head on his shoulder as she typed away on her laptop. She managed to be the only one who completed any actual work during their free periods, but she always kept time open to have fun with her friends as well. Bucky couldn’t help but have his lips quirked up at her, leaning back to relax against the cushions.

He turned his head towards her, and whispered in a barely audible voice, “Thank you Y/N.” She looked up at him with her infamous smile and kissed him on the cheek.

“Anytime, Buck.” She turned back to her computer, plugging her earbuds in and softly humming to her music. Her head moved to his chest, and Bucky prayed that she couldn’t hear how fast his heart was thumping, filled with adoration and love. God, how he would love this girl for the rest of his life.

[alright--okay]

you ever been to a basement show? pt. 1

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~1.5 k

a/n: this is college au where Tsukki is basically into really indie/alt music and so are you so you guys start as like concert buddies/friends and grow as more. I started this a while ago and have been posting to ao3 but I’m trying to find motivation to write more so imma start posting to tumblr lol hope anyone reading enjoys <3

read on ao3!

pt. 1 Polite Company - Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Tsukishima saw you everywhere, it didn’t make any sense. If the University of Tokyo was so big, why was he seeing the same girl all around campus?

Particularly in his one stupid archeology elective. The class was a joke compared to everything else he was taking but it gave him a break from his other more intense courses and he wasn’t about to refuse the opportunity to slack off. You were not only in the large lecture portion of the class but also in his recitation, meaning he saw you three times a week, not including the glances he caught of you just from walking around.

And he wasn’t stalking you (he swears), it’s just that you were … everywhere. Sitting in the last row of the lecture hall (just a few seats to the right of him), waiting for the TA outside the classroom for recitation (usually on your phone), or doing work in the student center as he passed through (always with your headphones on, always).

He had no clue who you were. You most probably weren’t an archeology major like himself, he would have seen you in the intro classes or any of the higher-level courses. Yeah, Tokyo was big but he could at least recognize some other people in the major, and he had never seen you in the three years he had been attending the University of Tokyo. Or at least didn’t notice you before, but that also seemed unlikely.

Today was no different. The lecture portion of the course was a little too early for anyone’s liking, so Tsukishima went to take his usual seat in the back row, ready to half pay attention, half play on his phone. You were already there, headphones atop your head as you continued to look at your phone, the faint sound of music escaped the padding by your ears but it was too muffled to make out an actual beat.

Tsukishima said a quick “excuse me” as he moved to step over your legs and bag on the ground. You remained quiet, giving a polite smile as you tucked your legs in, attempting to give him more room to pass. That’s when he caught sight of your sweatshirt. Normally he paid no mind to what you, let alone anyone, was wearing but the bubbled blue outline of the word “Forests” gave him pause. That was a band. That was a small band. How the fuck were you aware of their presence.

Tsukishima quickly made his way past you as he realized he really shouldn’t be staring at your chest (even if it was just to read your sweatshirt, he swears). He tried to nonchalantly maneuver his way into one of the old lecture hall seats a few down from yours before quickly pulling out his phone.

No way is it the same Forests, he thought as he brought up the band’s website and quickly scrolling through there merch.

Starring back at him was the same fucking sweatshirt. That meant you knew this band, this tiny band. He was so used to being alone in his music taste. Akiteru only listened to what was on the radio and Yamaguchi entertained Tsukishima when he went on rants about music and bands, but he didn’t really listen to any of it. Tsukishima had come to accept that his music-listening experience was mostly gonna be reserved for laying in his bed alone, staring at the ceiling, and absorbing the lyrics. This was fine, he could still enjoy the music just fine. But … you knew some of his music.

~~~

Tsukishima tried to ignore the thoughts of you. He didn’t know you, you were a random person who just so happened to maybe, possibly listen to the same type of music as him. Who cares?

It was a little later in the week and Tsukishima was making his way to the recitation for this stupid elective. The TA, as usual, was late so Tsukishima made his way over to the wall to wait, his own pair of headphones supplying a flow of music.

When you made an appearance from around the corner, Tsukishima couldn’t help the extra attention he paid to your clothing. And god fucking damn it. That was a Mom Jeans shirt. There was someone who listened to the same music as him. Or at least similar. But that was enough for Tsukishima to decide he wanted to talk to you.

To yama:

i have a situation

From yama:

oh ?? care to elaborate ?

Tsukishima paused. This was weird, wasn’t it? He had never interacted with you besides the time he had to move past you to get to his seat. And the lecture was huge. Nobody talked to each other unless you were already friends or were in desperate need of notes. Tsukishima was in neither of those situations.

To yama:

okay so theres this girl and before you say anything no im not trying to ask her out but she was wearing a shirt for a band i listen to

From yama:

that you listen to? not to say youre some hipster indie boy…. but you tend to listen to v obscure music

To yama:

yea i know that thats why im kinda freaking out like do i say something?? and if i do say something what would i even say

From yama:

go for it !! if shes anything like you she probably doesnt get to talk about music much either so just bring up her shirt or something itll be fine tsukki

To yama:

yea ill think about it

Tsukishima put his phone away as someone held the door open for him. Apparently the TA arrived sometime while he was texting Yamaguchi so he quickly made his way into the classroom, taking a seat a few rows behind you.

He would talk to you.

Just not today.

~~~

After the recitation the day before, you had pushed your headphones back onto your ears as soon as the TA was finished and made your way out of the room, his eyes following as you did so. Tsukishima had gone back to his apartment only to be further interrogated by Yamaguchi. What band? There were multiple bands? Did he know you? What class was this again? Are you cute? That’s where Tsukishima cut him off, moving into his room to attempt some work.

It was now Thursday morning, meaning it was time for the second half of the lecture. He was gonna do it. Tsukishima was going to talk to you.

He walked into the lecture hall, you again were already sitting in your seat at the back. Tsukishima (calmly, obviously he was calm) walked over to your seat and sat beside you.

~~~~~~

Who the fuck was this guy?

Yeah, you had seen him around, but he never talked to you, or anyone else in the class for that matter. And yet here he was, sitting next to you and gesturing for you to take off your headphones.

“Can I help you?” you said, complying by slipping the headphones around your neck.

He took a small, almost hesitant pause, “I noticed your shirt the other day, you listen to Forests?”

Your eyes grew slightly wider, “You know who they are?”

“Um, yeah and I’m not used to people listening to the same music as me so I thought I’d … I don’t know … say hi? Introduce myself?”

“Well, you haven’t done a very good job on that plan so far,” you paused to give him a small smile, “just saying.”

Tsukishima gave you a smirk of his own, “Hi,” he emphasized, making you smile wider, “I’m Tsukishima Kei. And you are?”

“l/n y/n,” you replied, smile still in place. “So you listen to Forests. Anyone else I might know?”

Tsukishima paused for a moment, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. Bands you listened to every day were not necessarily what everyone else listened to (which let’s be real, understandable), so replying to a question like this meant either replying with more popular bands people had likely heard of or going full-on obscure and have the person stare at you in confusion. But after a moment, Tsukishima responded with his own small list.

“I know a couple of them actually,” you saw his mouth give a small uptick, probably not used to that response, “what-” The two of you were interrupted by the professor being the lecture, but you quickly turned back to the boy at your side, now in a quieter voice you asked, “what were the names of the other bands? I’ll look them up.”

Tsukishima slowly listed them off again as you typed them into your phone, excited to see what this random guy in your lecture listened to.

Time passed slowly as you and Tsukishima put your attention back to the material at hand, but as the class came to the end and the two of you were packing up your things, your mind drifted to the coming weekend.

Yeah, you just met the guy, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. He seemed kinda nice after all, and he’d probably be into it.

“Hey Tsukishima,” you called to get his attention, “you ever been to a basement show?”

[mmygnolia]

Intertwined

synopsis: maybe losing him wasn’t so bad after all.

pairing: Dabi x Reader

genre: angst, bits of fluff

words: 1.4k

warnings: bits of cursing, major character death

A/N: First post!! Please bare with this writing for a few more weeks~ ILL GET BETTER ! I don’t know why the spaces get exponentially bigger everytime I pressed the cursed ‘return’ button so 😔

A hurricane is something you could emasculately use to describe the utter turmoil of a childhood you put yourself through. Tragedy, call it, but it’s not some sort of play that has an ending. Not what a book portrays. It’s like some sort of overcast, an ominous sign things were going to be different. A storm conjuring up in the pits to haunt.

The first time you met him was through the backyard of his home, the intricacies of the jet black gate showing slivers of what was behind it. A young soul like you was curious, fearless, maybe. You wouldn’t call the shots on your decision making. You heard laughing and kicking, a lonely self shouldn’t be watching others play, but here you were, trying to get a glimpse of everything your household rejected.

A plastic ball flew over your head, the slightly frightened look on the faces turned slowly, the equal of a freaky wooden door. Smiling brightly, you waved, to which they smiled back. Tossing the ball back over, a hesitate thought rushed before you could close your mouth.

“Can I play with you?” A small voice, seemingly not your own (though it was) inquired from the other side of the gate. As the children nodded quietly, you rushed over and with quick nimble feet, you climbed, worn down shoes pressing against the curves of the gates’ design. Hopping over with a huff, the laughter of three turned into the giggles of four. Happiness is maybe what this feeling if giddiness was.

“What’s your name?” A girl asked, her white hair had bits of cherry shows up, like blood on fresh snow, so bright and vibrant.

“L/N.” You said, chubby fingers fidgeting. “Y/N L/N. It was only a matter of time before you remembered their names as well. Your anticipation for later days to come would halt abruptly, your car with you inside was stopped by a large sign. It was only once per day, but more of Natsuo and Fuyumi rather than Touya. The mind you possessed didn’t understand the weight of the situation. Even then, you hoped. You had drawings for him, bentos to make together and castles to fill with your imagination.

Maybe secrets to share, and memories to cherish. He showed up less and less, during his visits your innocence skipped over the melancholy drenched in his eyes. As a young child, Touya got a storm of his own brewing. Worse that the hurricane you thought you had. Even that one time where you and him joked about the best heroes other than the Symbol of Peace, it seemed those memories were fading into dust, a cherry blossom growing, only to fade away.

Even his absence told something to you. Maybe he was done, maybe he didn’t want it anymore. He didn’t want to name of a hero that hurt. Todoroki wasn’t a proud thing to keep track off, perhaps a wretched path full of something you didn’t want to know. Full of trauma. But even with it, Touya was strong, no? He fought battles for you and stood up when you fell. Maybe you loved him more than you shod have. You didn’t realize the end would come so soon.

“Where’s Touya, you asked Natsuo, rubbing his back and crying into your shoulder. Schoolwork wasn’t a must, the days were all a blur, the lessons were slow and don’t teach much.

“Gone, gone, gone, just like the rest of them. He’s gone, L/N, gone.”

“We can find him, Natsuo, I promise I’ll become a hero and I’ll make it my top priority to find out wherever he is.” You tried to lighten the mood, clammy hands rubbing at your dress skirt.

“You don’t get it! He died, he’s gone, he can’t come back anymore! No more smiles, no more games. No more fun for his anymore. It’s always Dad, he’s hurting everyone. Mom’s crying because of him and the three of us are the reason for his anger. We’re mishaps.” Incoherent phrases were spluttered, tears wiped roughly with his eyes before he got up and left. The silent was threatening, the ominiscent foreshadow that all good came to an end.

Maybe the winds of fear crept into you slowly, a storm to weather forming in the midst.

Why’d you go? Why’d you leave us in the dark?

Memories of him stayed in the past, newer things were your priority. School, life, and friends were occupations you sought to busy your time. The years passed much to quickly, time stolen under your noise. Admitted to a school. Graduation. Heading to UA. Graduation there. It seemed nothing mattered most than those moments, but the past haunts everyone. Even as a hero, you couldn’t save everything. Even as a person who made the move past everything you couldn’t help but frantically press the dirt covering his smile harder into the ground. It was only patrols, nothing more, a capturing of a villain who had blue flames. That’s it.

“It can’t be you, can it?” Even after so many years these thoughts popped out on random, your quirk pushing his quirk to a stop. He was burnt, flesh marred past regeneration, but it was one thing that stayed the same.

“L/N.” His gaze, pool of turquoise burned into yours as the bystanders rushed out under your command. “Seems so long since I-“

“Shut up. Touya. I don’t want to hear how you’ve changed.” A grimace from the male in front of you reached your eyes.

“I never changed, I just finally started showing it.” His words may have burned you, eyes prickling, but his soft tone soothed the harsh pain. “It seems so long since we’ve seen each other, spoken to each other.” You ran towards him hugging his build as you sobbed, a soft firewood scent drifting off of his exterior. Fisting the white shirt in your hands, you slapped him, punching his chest as the villain laughed, stroking your hair softly. Fumbling with the strands, his fingers cupping your cheeks. You knew you were doomed from the beginning. It was also like this. You wished for an alternate universe, for a happy future where it didn’t seem like everyone around you inflicted or received pain.

“I said I would marry you one day.” You laughed, legs dangling on his thighs as he slid down the wall. Staring off, he kept his hands away from your figure, arms draped next to him in a nonchalant manner. “Doesn’t look like it’s happening now.” Wiping your tears, you stared at him through tears eyes, a smile appearing on your face. A bittersweet smile that you showed him frequently during an early age. “Why’d you have to go? W-Why’d you leave m- us? Fuyumi, and-“

“Don’t.” His voice let on more than he showed, a light quiver in the way he told you he didn’t want to hear it.

“What do you mean, don’t? I told you to never leave me and you did, I told you take care of me, the cherish as friend, for, or fiancé, but where only close to foes. Why can’t you understand we thought you fucking died?!”

“I couldn’t live that life anymore. You shouldn’t have known that.” He seemed cold, emotionally dry even, as you grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers with his.

A gun click stopped the silence, leaving you and him feeling betrayed.

“Dabi, you’re under arrest for 18 murders and 24 attempted murders. Put your hand above your head or we’ll shoot.”

“And that’s not how my death goes.” Picking you in is right and manhandling you from the collar, he grinned, the bright blue covering the men and their yells as shots were rung into fruitless abandon. Unscathed, he wiped a hand on his shirt, picking you up and placing a hand on your chest.

“Tell me if you kne-“ He growled.

“I didn’t, I swear, I wasn’t a part of it Touya! I didn’t even know you were in this area!” Honestly speaking, you couldn’t get a word to him. Struggling against his hold, he tightened his grip on your neck, left hand sizzling slightly. “Believe me, please!” You coughed, the black haired male sneered at your weak figure.

“Wrong answer, Y/N.” He blasted his flames, catching the material on fire as you crumbled back into the corner of the alley wall, choking on the smoke before placing out the fire on your charred suit. Smoke drifted in the air, the burning scent making it hard to breath and talk. You truly burned this time, but it was only then you knew how he felt to be burned. How it felt to be hurt all of those times. “I want to know why you came to see me after you became a hero and think it’s alright to call me by a name I don’t use anymore.”

“You want to know why I left? It’s because I don’t want to become someone who does this disgusting act of sympathy to turn me in. I loved you Y/N, and I was happy, I thought of how much I liked you and then I realized. A little girl like you can’t change the monster fate’s intertwined with my past.”

[josjournal]

Hey, Little Angel! I know this (and other prompts) have been in in my inbox forever and I hope you’re still around to see this.

tw: auto accident

Liam was already exhausted when he caught the bus, hoping desperately for a place to sit and groaning when he saw that every seat was taken, along with most of the standing areas. He spotted an opening near the back of the bus and squeezed through the crowd, apologizing when he stepped on feet and making a silly face at a toddler in his mom’s arms that swatted at him when he got too close. Finally, he grabbed the bar between a grumpy man in a suit and a teenager who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

Liam distracted himself by watching the other people on the bus, starting at the front and working back, wiggling his fingers at the toddler who was waving at him when he caught him looking. He heard a chuckle next to him and looked down at the guy sitting right next to him. Hazel eyes looked up at him and Liam had to catch his breath as he took in the rest of his face, the chiselled cheekbones and long lashes. 

“God, he’s pretty,” Liam thought.

“Got a little friend?” the man asked, and Liam followed his gaze back to the toddler who was still waving and blew a kiss at Liam. 

Liam chuckled. “What can I say? Kids adore me.”

“I can see why,” the man said. “You look like a giant teddy bear.” Liam’s cheeks warmed and he ducked his head. “Aw, did I embarrass you, Teddy?”

“M’name’s Liam,” he mumbled.

“Well, Leeyum,” he said, drawing out his name in a way that sent warmth through him, “I’m Zayn.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Liam said as the bus came to stop and he swayed on his feet, checking for empty spots, but looking at Zayn, he found he didn’t mind standing for a bit longer.

“Long day?” Zayn asked, looking over Liam’s jeans that he’d managed to keep clean thanks to the coveralls at work.

His shirt hadn’t fared as well thanks to the heat of the garage and he tried to inconspicuously sniff to make sure his deodorant hadn’t stopped working as he shrugged in response.

“Any plans for your Friday night?”

It was a bit of a personal question for a stranger, but Liam answered anyway. “Shower and sleep.” He chuckled when Zayn frowned. “Lame, I know.”

“Nah, sounds nice, actually. I’m babysitting for my sister.” He arched his back and pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times before turning it toward Liam, showing him a photo of an adorable baby girl with dark hair and wide eyes. “My niece.”

“Beautiful,” Liam said. “Like uncle, like niece.” The words were out before he could stop himself and he suddenly wished for the bottom of the bus to open up and suck him out and away from his humiliation.

Instead, he heard the bus driver swear and the bus jerked forward, Liam’s sweaty grip sliding off the bar and he stumbled forward. He managed to catch himself against one of the vertical bars but then there was a bump from the back of the bus and he lost his balance, falling again and landing on something softer than the floor that let out a soft ‘oof’ on contact.

Catching his breath, Liam opened his eyes and looked around the bus. There were several people on the floor, his little buddy was crying in his mother’s arms and as he searched for Zayn to be sure his new friend was alright, he discovered that the softness he’d landed on was Zayn’s lap. 

“Alright?” he asked. “Of course you’re not, some stranger is nearly giving you a lap dance. Stupid, Liam,” he muttered, trying to right himself to stand, but Zayn’s arms wrapping around his middle stopped him.

“Just stay still,” Zayn said, his tone authoritative. “You might be injured.” With those words, he found Zayn holding a flashlight up to his eyes. “Follow my finger.”

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making sure you’re not concussed,” Zayn responded. “You seem alright.” He helped move Liam off his lap and stood and for the first time, Liam saw he was wearing a medic’s uniform under his leather jacket. “Come help me,” he directed and led Liam over to the crying toddler and Liam saw the mother’s head was bleeding slightly. 

He talked to the woman and managed to get her to give up the baby and hand him over to Liam, who took him and bounced him, talking gibberish until he was smiling again and patting Liam’s cheeks. He kept him occupied until more paramedics came onto the bus and Zayn took him, giving him to a paramedic that was helping his mom off the bus.

Soon enough, the bus was empty and Liam was standing on the pavement, watching trucks taking away the other vehicles from the accident and before he knew it, Zayn was standing in front of him, waving a hand in front of his face. “Maybe you should get checked out,” he said, waving over another of the medics and the man led him into the back of an ambulance, asking him questions.

Liam was cleared a few hours later and he headed out to catch another bus, even though the thought made him ill. He froze when he saw Zayn leaning against a light pole, pushing off when he spotted Liam. “All good?”

“Don’t you have to babysit?” Liam asked.

“Accident made me late. My sister cancelled her plans. So, I’m free,” he said, smiling. “Was hoping maybe some teddy bear looking stranger might offer to finish his lap dance.”

Liam could feel the fire on his cheeks. “How about we start with dinner?” Zayn grinned and headed towards the bus stop and Liam froze. “Maybe we should walk?”

“Alright,” Zayn said, offering his hand to Liam who took it and led him down the street towards the nearest eatery.

Cross-Posted to AO3

[wildly-lost-lantern]

Seven Point Star

AN: Hey friends! Things have been crazy with all thats going on in the world. I hope this can help at least one person feel somewhat better. As always likes, comments, and reblogs are encouraged! I want to hear your thoughts, so please let me know! Huge thank you to @thesoftestpunk and @timaeustestified42069 for reading this and making sure it was post-ready!

!ANYTHING IN ITALICS IS SAID IN ENGLISH!

Pairings: OT7 x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of gambling and alcohol.

Word count: 1100+

Chapter Three: Mom?

“Mom?” I answered, letting the weight rest on my chest. I was sure she had understood when I told her to never call me again. I said she was nothing to me. What could she want from me this time? I looked to Namjoon and told him I’d be back in five minutes. I stepped out of the room, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

“Darling,” my mother started in a sickeningly sweet tone, and I knew she wanted something. I would not let her do this to me again. “So, when were you gonna tell me you…relocated?” she said.

“I wasn’t,” was my monotone response. “What do you want from me?” I asked, getting right to the point. It was most likely money. What else could she want? She needs money for her gambling issues.

“Alright, fine. I need some help. I lost a bet, and now I owe a lot of powerful people a lot of money. Could you please help your dear mother out?” she said, actually sounding disappointed for once. I simply rolled my eyes.

“No. I told you two years ago to never contact me again. You can unfuck yourself without me,” I said, immediately hanging up the call. At this point, I was fuming. Every single time she had talked to me since I moved out has been about trying to get me to give her money. After what she put me through in my youth, I would never support her. I walked back into the practice room, seeing the boys all talking in hushed tones. “Back in form, now. We have work to get done,” I told them, obviously startling them slightly.

“Hey, are you sure you don’t need a break? We can take lunch early, if you have something to deal with,” Namjoon said, looking at my face. I could feel the heat practically rolling off me in waves, and I guessed that I looked pretty upset.

“I’m fine. We have work to do. Back in form, from the top of the chorus,” I said, connecting back to Bluetooth. I was still fuming so I decided to dance behind the group, hoping it’d relieve some anger.

About another hour later, it was time for our lunch break, so I bowed and collected my things to go get something from the nearby café. As I was walking out, I called an old friend from America. Almost immediately, he picked up. “Andy! Thank god. Do you have a minute?” I asked as soon as he answered.

“Uhm, for a little. Why, what’s wrong?” I could hear the slight anxiety in his voice, as we usually just texted because of the time difference. I let out a deep breath and leaned against the wall. I was too focused on not crying from traumatic memories to hear that someone was just down the hall.

“Oh, you know. The incubator called. Asking for money. Like always. Why can’t I just get her to leave me alone?! The dumb bitch doesn’t seem to understand that I want nothing to do with her after all that she did to me.” I said, obviously still furious about how all she saw me as was an ATM. Andy just sighed and I knew that he wished he could hug me right then.

“Yuna, I’m so sorry. I know how hard this is for you. I wish there was more that I could do for you, but I’m all the way across the world,” he said. I simply brushed him off, saying that being there to listen was all I needed. I continued my walk for a small meal, talking to Andy the whole time.

Once I got back to the room, shortly before the guys did, I felt nearly a million times better. I had already decided to apologize for my bad mood, hoping they didn’t think ill of me now. After they all gathered back, looking much more energetic and happier now that they had eaten. We sat in a circle, stretching and warming up, when I spoke up.

“I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. It was unprofessional, and I’m truly sorry for making you all uncomfortable,” I said, my head hanging down slightly. It was my first day and I’ve already made a fool of myself. “I hope you all can still see me as a good instructor for you all,” I finished up. Namjoon gripped my shoulder gently from my left, his head tilted toward me in appreciation.

“It takes a strong person to admit when they have done something wrong,” he started off. “However, I’m sure that after what I heard today, you losing your cool for a moment was totally understandable.” I gave him a confused look, but before I could ask another voice spoke up.

“Namjoon-ah was looking for you during the break. He overheard your phone call, and then told the rest of us,” Yoongi said, his eyes downcast in embarrassment. I felt my face heat up, and I cleared my throat.

“I’m so sorry, you weren’t supposed to hear that,” I mumbled, looking back down. Now I was mortified. Namjoon heard me cussing up a storm, in English, to my best friend from America. Could today get any worse? I was just hoping the ground would open up and swallow me whole when Jeongguk spoke up.

“You need a drink, Yuna-ssi,” he said, full of confidence. He had a grin that displayed mischief that I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of. Luckily, I wasn’t the only one with doubts. Hobi was already starting to shoot down the suggestion when, surprisingly, Namjoon spoke up.

“Yeah. You do. Come to our place after work, relax, and have a drink or two. It will give us all a chance to get to know you. We will be working together for a while, after all,” he said. I felt so overwhelmed all of a sudden. Why did he want me to come drink with them? Did he know something I didn’t? He did call me yesterday. Maybe he genuinely likes me as a person? Or maybe he knows Jennie? Either way, by the end of my day, they had convinced me to come over after a shower and dinner for a drink and to talk. I had a feeling that this wouldn’t end well, but I had already agreed. It was too late to back out now. The second I showed up to their place, I knew tonight was not going to be ‘just one drink’. Tae had pulled out all the stops with snacks and soju. Now I just had to survive.

[theatrelove3000]

You are my Sunshine Part 1

Hi hi hi! I forgot that I was posting on here so I am back! I am going to post three today because they all go together. This is a very angsty so if you are sensitive to death and depression, this is your warning.

Find Part 2 here

Summary: Noelle gets word that her mother, whom she sees rather infrequently, is very sick. She goes to find her in the hospital. 

Warnings:Death, anxiety, depression, I can’t think of any others but maybe swearing?

You Are My Sunshine

Noelle POV:

"I cannot tell you how happy I am for you!"

"Thank you, Noelle." Sif is grinning from ear to ear, her hand caught between my own, admiring her ring. "It's about time, don't you think? It's been almost two years since we began courting."

I give her a half smile and wait for her to realize what she had just said. When she did, her face changed from a smile to an apologetic look.

"I-I mean-" she starts but I cut her off.

"I know what you meant, Sif. It is alright. I know that Loki and I have been together for a very long time without him proposing but we are waiting until we both believe that we are ready for a marriage. It is a very big commitment!"

She nods. Before she can respond, though, the door to the library opens. Thor and Loki walk in. I smile and we stand to greet them. It isn't until Thor simply pats my shoulder and won't make eye contact that I realize that something is wrong. He goes straight to Sif, who gives him a confused look. He just puts one arm around her waist and starts to usher her around the room. She stops in front of me and we clasp arms, a Warrior's farewell, and then she keeps moving, leaving with Thor whispering in her ear.

I turn to Loki, seriously concerned now. I look at him and see that he has the same solemn look as his brother. Something is very, very wrong here.

"Noelle, love, I need you to sit down please."

I do as I am told and he sits beside me on the sofa, one hand on my back and the other on top of the hand resting on my leg. He explains to me that he had just been notified by Heimdall that I need to go see my mother right now. She is very ill and does not have much time.

The world goes black.

Loki POV:

I know that, from personal experience, there is nothing I can do to help her. And it burns me to know she is in pain. I escort her back to her chambers and watch her as she silently packs a bag. She will not meet my eyes. She will not speak. She only looks down, focusing on the task at hand.

She turns to the door and I stop her, my hands on her shoulders. "Noelle." She looks up at me.

I almost wish she hadn't.

The amount of pain and helplessness and grief in her eyes sends shocks of pain through my chest. "I am going with you." I state, not giving any room for argument. She simply nods and starts out the door. I follow.

By the time we are out of the Palace, she is all but running to the stables. I decide that only one horse will be necessary so I mount Tempest and lift her up in front of me. We gallop at full speed through the streets of Asgard, citizens having to jump out of the way to keep from getting trampled by my mountain of a horse. By the time we make it to the Bifrost and on the platform, Noelle's hand is holding my own.

Noelle POV:

We are transported to an empty alleyway beside a hospital. I go to the front desk and give my mother's name. The receptionist nods and waves a nurse over to escort us to her room. When we get there, the nurse turns and puts her hand up to stop us. "It is family only." Her eyes dart to Loki. She tells him that he may wait here or sit in the waiting room but I was not having that.

"He is family. This is my husband." The nurse looks at my left hand, which I had strategically placed on Loki's arm, showcasing a gold band that I had just manifested onto my finger. She nods and moves aside.

'I like ‘husband’, but I would pick a grander ring than just a band.' He tells me.

I take a deep breath and open the door.

"Hi, Momma."

My mother opens her eyes and looks over at me. She looks as though she has aged years. Her hair has gone thin and is greying in places, she is so thin that her skin seems to just be blanketing bones. But her eyes, while tired, are still hers, bright blue with green around the edges. She smiles when she sees me.

"Hi, Baby!" She reaches her arms out to me and I walk over to her, hugging her loosely, afraid to break her.

She looks over my shoulder and sees Loki.

"Hello, Loki." She says with a smile.

"Hello, Lady Beth." He says politely with a bow of his head.

I don't know how long I sat with her, but I do know that I ended up laying in the bed with her and Loki in a chair in the corner. I also know that at some point, she looked at me and asked me to sing to her. I smile and start to think of a song to sing.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping I dreamed I held you in my arms" I tighten my hold on her. "But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken; And I hung my head and I cried; You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; You make me happy when skies are grey; You'll never know, dear, how much I love you; Please don't take my sunshine away" my voice cracks but I push through it. "I'll always love you and make you happy; If you will only say the same; But if you leave me to love another; You'll regret it all some day; You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; You make me happy when skies are grey; You'll never know, dear, how much I love you; Please don't take my sunshine away" I try not to think about a world without my momma in it because I know it's close and I do not want to cry in front of her. "You told me once, dear, you really loved me; And no one else could come between;But now you've left me and love another; You have shattered all my dreams; You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; You make me happy when skies are grey; You'll never know dear, how much I love you; Please don't take my sunshine away."

She smiles and claps when I finish. She used to sing that to me when I was sad or sick. It made sense to complete the circle.

"Will you sing another for me, baby girl? Your voice calms me."

"I understand the feeling." Loki says from where he is sitting with a book in his lap. He must have stopped to listen to me.

I smile and start a new song. This time it's sadder but I think it fits the situation.

"The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair; In doctor's-office-lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared," ain't that the truth, "That was the first time we were there; Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you; Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too

And I say to you; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon; 'Cause you have to," I look up to see her eyes closed, but she is smiling. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor comforts me. "I know delusion when I see it in the mirror; You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal; I just pretend it isn't real," my voice cracks again and I let a few tears fall. "I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky; I know I'll never get it there's not a day that I won't try; And I'll say to you; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon; 'Cause you have to," I lean my head down on her shoulder, the way I did as a child,"And I hate to make this all about me; But who am I supposed to talk to?; What am I supposed to do

If there's no you?" I shut my eyes, praying that this is all in my head. "This won't go back to normal, if it ever was; It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because; 'Cause I have to," the tears are flowing freely now. "Ooh-ah, you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon

Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon

'Cause you have to."

I feel her shoulders stop moving. It doesn't register until I hear the heart monitor flatline. I start to really cry. I beg her not to leave me, tell her that I love her. I grip her tightly, hoping that maybe this is a nightmare that I'm about to wake up from. I feel Loki's hands on my arms and let him pry me away from my momma. My momma. My momma.

He turns me away from the bed and pulls me into his chest. He keeps a hand on the back of my head so that I can't move to see anything. He rests his chin on top of my head whispering to me, though I can't hear a word he says. He eventually moves us both out of the room, I assume on a doctor's request so they can do their job. We stand in the hallway the way we were in the room: his back to the wall, one arm around my waist, the other stroking my hair. My face is buried in his chest, hands gripping the front of his shirt. I am sobbing. I hear Loki talking to someone and then hear someone collapse from behind me. I take a deep breath and pull away from his chest.

I turn around to see a weeping James sitting on the floor. I move to where he sits with his back to the wall and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He buries his face in my shoulder, crying. "She loved you so much, James." I whisper to him.

"She never loved anyone the way she loved you, Noelle." We sit like this for a while. We comfort each other. My mother’s boyfriend and I, basically strangers, mourn the same wonderful woman on the floor of the hall in a hospital.

Eventually, James pulls himself together enough to go speak to someone about funeral arrangements. I am not so lucky. I'm not crying anymore but I can barely stand. Loki wraps one arm around my waist and helps me walk out of the hospital. We go back to the alley we started in, from there he transports us to my mom's apartment. Specifically my room.

I collapse.

[colitisandthesigns17]

WELCOME!!!!

March 17, 2020

Hiiii!!!! My name is Geena. I am 25 years old and I have chronic ulcerative colitis. You all are probably like cool Geena, now why do I care? This is not a blog for you to care or any of that, but if you do, you are an amazing soul already! With this COVID-19 madness,and toilet paper mania, I have decided it is best for me to channel my quarantined energy into informing you young citizens on a chronic illness that I suffer from. They say Shakespeare came out with some great stuff during the plague in his years, so let’s see if we come close!!!

Well, enough with the formal stuff. First things first, I am very goofy!! I will make corny jokes that you guys will not understand! So be ware!!! With that being said, I think I shall call you guys my little assholes *muhahahaha*!!! If you know a little bit about colitis, you will understand that oh so funny joke! If not, welcome and you will be schooled. To make everyone comfortable, I shall introduce myself to you assholes!!!

I said my name so I shall not repeat! And if you already forgot it, get your sherlock holmes on and go search for it again! Anyways, my ADD/ADHD is wanting to creep in!! But we shall stay focused. Anyways, I have been an athlete my whole life, (since three years old)! I also have been Mexican and Puerto Rican my whole life, so you know food is very important in our cultures! I have dealt with stress of sport and home and perfectionism all my life! It was in 2016 that I started to get very sick!! Alright assholes, because I know some of you are going to snooze soon exactly what happened. I can not deny my dramatics but I shall remind you that these are all factual symptoms one does endure. One of my first memories of excruciating pain was when I was hanging out with someone very special to me (intro later to my peeps, sit still and just sip your tea and shut it) when I began to be tumbled over in pain on the bed!! I immediately thought I was going to pass out!!! Now, let's backtrack a little, I have had two major knee surgeries, broken hand surgery, and now after diagnosis, survived 4 colonoscopies (Idk if that is spelled right but we are not here for a spelling bee). With that being illustrated in your guy's head, I want you to understand, it takes A LOT for me to be crying in pain!!! So now after I get up and try and go to the restroom, I see blood in my poop!!! Yup!!! I swear a little gremlin went inside me and committed murder!! I warned you about my ADD/ADHD so stop acting surprised assholes!! To continue with this story, I denied anything being wrong, because well that is just me :))))))))) I also hate doctors, and talking publicly to people unless its for food (sometimes), because I mean FOOD!!!! But then again, PEOPLE!!!!! (SCARY))) Anyways, it was not until after I saw my very special Titi (Aunt), that I realized yeah…. I’m in some deep shit (that is a joke, so laugh or leave)!!!

After getting back home, visiting my GI, and coming to accepting the fact I may have colitis, I underwent my first, terrible colonoscopy at 21 years old…!!! Let me just say, you definitely should never wish a colonoscopy or colonoscopy prep on even your worst enemy!!! Let’s just not!!!

Now, I think that is enough for my personal introduction to the topic! I want to before getting into any craziness of the topic, say thank you’s. There is nothing in life that we do one our own. I have learned that through many experiences in my life. So to close the first entry of our inauguration,  I shall thank people that should be thanked. I will not name people explicitly, for confidential reasons and because I am doing this on a whim. I am going to give them nicknames, that they will surely know!

First off, I got to thank my GI and the monthly visits and his rapid responses to my emails, especially whenever I am losing my mind and my butt! Without his calmness, I would be a case on Law and Order!

Next, of course, my family! Titi and my mom, dad, and siblings, have given me tough love at times for my baby ways, but their endless support and understanding have helped me stay healthy.

Lastly, but not least at all… a very special home and person to me,

“Lil boy”, “peter pan”!!! The very first person I confided anything in, the first person to get on my shit (a joke, but actually), help with my medicine, and the person that helped me change my ways, all around! There are not enough thanks or love to give and share...but if there was an award (I can go for days but this nickname will be mentioned in a lot of stories, just know I am more than grateful), haha you would get it! Always, always, past dirt and earth.

I will close our first blog by allowing any anonymous or un-anonymous questions or proposals of stories or suggestions! I have very funny dramatic stories to tell!! Just ask! I also have very honest stories to tell! At the end of the day, I want to make other people comfortable with acknowledging that they have a digestive issue. I want people to feel they are heard. If you know me personally, you know this is very hard for me to tell publicly, but I think it is time for me to put the shyness behind me, and help people, if not just ONE!! If you have personal questions, on my weight or what I have done to change or anything literally, I will share! I will post the blogs on my Snapchat and if you have any friends or family or know someone who could benefit just from these human and natural processes through my stories...please share!!

Till we have more shit to talk about assholes… SEE YOU SOON!!!! :)