#just a life update in case anyone was wondering why i suddenly disappeared

[cosalphonse]

this is the first time i've gone more than like a day or two without posting since i made this blog in 2019 and it's only because i went through the literal worst case scenario and lost the most important person in my life very suddenly at one of the worst possible times it could've happened. it took apocalyptic levels of trauma and grief for me to finally stop fmaposting

[chemicalpink]

ଘ(´•×•)⊃━☆ a (not so brief) life update

In case you've been wondering where I've been cause by now we all know I tend to just disappear.

A few days ago I felt like oversharing a bit for anyone interested, I feel like getting to this point of sharing is due and will allow me to stop this irrational fear of the internet that I have somehow developed as it tallies to my accountability on this blog.

So hang tight! Cause this is about to be a wild ride...

I'm not regressing to the very beginning cause this isn't about to be a therapy session but I will go back to the near beginnings of this account during the pandemic.

A little before lockdown as I was asked to collaborate as a customs specialist for a pop-up store (which then I found out to be BTS') so I got into them after my job was done. A bit after going down the rabbit hole I started this blog, without very much planning into it, just merely creating a safe space for the people with whom could potentially like the same things I did.

A few months into it, as a last year International Relations student on my way to law school, and with a bit of sleep deprived courage, I applied for an internship at BH online, not expecting much since I barely knew Korean and was most definitely stuck at home in a whole different continent. But things surprisingly worked out, I didn't get paid at all but it was a great learning experience. BH became HB and I got to experience that from the inside, my day went like this: school from 7am to 5 pm and work from 9pm to 3am (sometimes more)

I obviously never got to work directly with any idols, my work was merely global and very much law related. Customs, contracts, negotiations with international enterprises. When the lockdown was done with, I was asked to move and become a permanent worker of theirs, so I did. However, it involved a lot of moving around so I wasn't exactly based anywhere and living costs are quite a thing. During this time I was also profiling myself as a diplomat, so it was in all of our best interests that I became outsourced.

Which brings us to a timeline closer to the present, the person that was in charge of contacting me for the gigs that I used to do for them suddenly quit and while I'm sure they were doing whatever was best for them, left me fending for myself during may-june. I came back home with my parents during june-july and networked for a bit– at least enough to regroup my possibilities so during august-september I was allowed to staff and collaborate (on a lower level) on some big concerts/tours.

During this time however (july-september) I was mostly reliant on my parents and coincidentally, their work slowed down by a lot. The rather small amount of money I got from working here and there was spent on my medical treatment (during july my doctor let me know that I needed to get diagnosed properly for lupus and by august my treatment costs were up by a lot) I tried picking up freelance tutoring (a pain, truly) and other small hustles that didn't require me to tire myself out too much since most of my days I spent aching all over, while also caring for my mother who had to have an emergency glaucoma surgery.

Oh and I cried and felt miserable during my birthday so.

I believe that's where we are at. I can't exactly get a job since I need to apply to an unpaid internship in order to graduate law school but I can't apply for an internship because one of my teachers just suddenly decided to fail me in their class (which means I need to pass it first) so I try to get by with small, low commitment hustles and now I'm picking up more seriously my ko-fi content. Which is why, I haven't been on here.

Those damned retrogrades hit me good ngl.

I do want to say though, I am not in a state of emergency, however, I am not living comfortably, but I'm trying my best to pick myself up and be nice to myself with the decisions I make and actions I take by the minute. While also trying to save up to go visit my 17 year old sister that has just moved away to study medicine.

I am grateful for what I have and I cherish you all that have remained close to me (even in this infinite nothingness that is the internet) and I hope you've been treating yourselves kindly during this time. If you'll have me, let's navigate the rest of the year together.

If this gains a lot of traction, I'm privating it lmao. I have no issue now talking about it since I'm no longer working there but I made those NDAs myself so I know what I'm up to.

[chateautae]

— important announcement [♡]

tw: personal letter from me, chronic heart condition, surgery, death, trauma, anxiety and vulnerability 

hi everyone, I’m pretty sure the warnings on this post clue you into what I’ll be saying under the cut, and it was hard for me to write this, it took me days but this is a crucial announcement i need to make about myself. 

i’ll be taking an official three week break starting today due to health concerns I’ll detail further below. this post will also mention the importance of university starting up again, and as I enter my third year and seriously consider future endeavours such as law school and moving to the big city, writing will have to be something I keep on the back burner. don’t worry, I won’t disappear entirely but my updating will slow down again, hopefully you can be patient with me and still stick around for what I have in store <3

thank you to whoever’s clicked on read more and is now reading this; seriously, if you make it through this post i’m extremely grateful for you, because these are things i’ve never spoken about to anyone and i’m glad you’re listening.

i’m not exactly sure where to begin; it’s not everyday i speak about my heart condition. i’m sure almost none of you reading this even knew i had one. i only share this with people very close to me in case of emergencies, and otherwise keep my mouth shut about it. to be frank, i never speak about it out of embarrassment, not since i was diagnosed at the age of 4 and collapsed at a party, unable to breathe. it’s almost sad that’s the earliest memory i can ever recall, that agonizing pain in my chest and the way my mom cradled me in her arms as a paramedic checked my vitals. not since I was told that my heart was special just like me, that i was born with an extra valve that pumps a little too much electricity to my heart, and causes it to beat very fast and erratically (my highest recorded bpm is 250). not since i was told i have a condition called supraventricular tachycardia, or svt. it’s not the most life-threatening arrhythmia, which I thank god everyday for, but it has still been something that’s plagued me for 16 years. i’ve taken medication and suffered all their wonderful side effects for those years, been in and out of hospitals ever since i was 4, had enough holter monitors strapped to me to make a fortune, had loads of cardiologists, surgeons, x-rays, i.v’s, ecg’s, ultrasounds, blood work; you name it. i’ve hated it all; ever since I had to constantly deal with the pounding in my chest whenever my heart went fast and i’d collapse in gym class, or would get whisked away in an ambulance in front of the entire school, or felt so embarrassed by my condition that i’d wait the entire 45 minutes with an active attack as my amazing dad drove all the way from his workplace to pick me up and take me to a hospital. 

this condition limited my ability to exert myself in any way. i couldn’t get too excited, too nervous or perform many physical activities like running. even when i did, it had to be modified or i would be extremely slow compared to everyone else, constantly managing my breathing to ensure i didn’t slip into an attack. thankfully it wasn’t often, but sometimes i even got made fun of for not being able to run like a normal kid, and i hated it. i hated being different and just not being able to do things like the others. i hated that i was born this way without any control over it, and it only became worse by the time i was old enough to experience anxiety, and my condition worsened. important information; anxiety + heart conditions = a very, very bad combination. that’s why i was incredibly thankful to be able to receive my very first surgery, a catheter ablation, where everything seemed like it was going to be okay. you can imagine my fear when a couple months later, i suddenly felt my heart rapidly beating again, and found out that the surgeons nearly k*lled me by knocking something else inside my heart, and nothing was really fixed. even when i was physically eligible for a second surgery in the same year, i had hope again, endured it all over again, only to find out the surgery failed... again. 

i don’t think i can accurately describe the depression i felt when i was told by a cardiologist that my svt was part of the very, very small margin that’s very difficult to cure. sometimes, some svt patients have their extra node too close to the natural wiring of their heart, and altering that extra node may potentially fry the entire natural wiring, resulting in the need for a pacemaker. i was given the decision to either stay on medication for the rest of my life or take the risk of getting a pacemaker; my parents were vehemently against the latter. and so, something i hated became a part of myself i had to accept. i had to accept the constant cardiologist appointments, the hospital routines, the life-draining medication, the horrible feeling of never being able to do anything to my full potential because i was physically limited by something out of my control. it was depressing, it was anxiety-inducing, and most of all it was just... tragic. i never wanted anybody to see me as someone who needed to be treated differently, taken care of, someone less capable, a burden, but as i grew older and my anxiety worsened, so did my condition. suddenly my stronger doses of medication were damaging my body, suddenly my panic attacks were turning into full-blown svt attacks, and i felt like i couldn’t breathe and wanted to faint, sometimes i did. suddenly i have to inform my workplaces where i perform very physical labour that i can’t do things like everybody else does, and so i have to receive modified work. suddenly even exerting myself the slightest bit was triggering the condition, and i was becoming miserable; it was fucking miserable.

but it’s what has led me to now, where finally, finally i’m being told that the surgery has a much higher success rate now. thankfully, i’ll be receiving my third surgery today, my very first time receiving a radio-frequency ablation, and I’m nervous. really fucking nervous. some of the changes made to the surgery make it a little scarier, and i’m scared, but I’ll finally be freed of something that’s imprisoned me for years. you may have read others’ stories about svt, know someone or a famous person with the condition and think it’s not really anything serious, but for me, it was serious. this may sound like fiction or exaggerated but it isn’t. this has been my lived experience. it’s been something that made me experience a myriad of awful things, so i’m glad to say that I can’t wait for my life to change, to finally just be... me, without any limitations.

i wanted to say all of this to explain how happy i am to finally receive the treatment i’ve always wanted, that hopefully, this surgery is successful and i’ll be rid of this condition. I hope that you’ll think of me or maybe even keep me in your prayers for a successful surgery. it’s not incredibly life-threatening, but after the failures of the first two and nearly facing death the first time, i really, really want it to work 🥺 don’t worry about me! it may be far-fetched for me to believe anyone would even worry about me but, i can’t say that without tarnishing the characters of all the lovely, caring people that know me on this blog; my mutuals, my friends, my amazing readers and supporters and followers.

as a result of all this, i will need time to recover from the surgery, so starting today i’ll be on a break for approximately three weeks. this will also be during the time i begin school again, and with a full schedule ahead and commuting to the city with my job, time will be scarce and my writing will slow down. i truly hope you can understand that and keep questions about updates to a minimum. I’m always so amazed to hear how excited you are about my works, but please try to limit asks about ‘when’ and instead just ask where I am with my works! what am i writing! how’s the writing process going! those questions are much less anxiety-inducing and i’ll happily answer them :) 

thank you again to anyone who read this post, I love you dearly and I hope this message finds you well <33

— love, sammy ♡

[dontcare77ghj]

We Interrupt This Program

Wanda x reader x Vision

Monica had dreamt of her mother and aunt. Memories from long ago when everything had been okay. 

She had woken up in the same uncomfortable hospital room chair she had fallen asleep in, to her hands forming from dust.

Monica had jumped in her chair with a gasp at the strange image before her head snapped over to her mother's hospital bed.

An empty bed.

As Monica jumped to her feet, she suddenly became aware of the loud crashes and screams echoing outside the room.

When Monica opened the door, she was greeted by the disturbing image of people forming from dust.

Monica had rushed past the dusty people and to a doctor.

"Excuse me," She tried to say.

"They're all coming back!" The doctor snapped. "They're all coming back. We don't have the capacity!" He said before rushing away.

Not deterring from her goal, Monica continued to race through the hospital halls until she crashed into a nurse.

"Excuse me? I'm looking for a patient in room one-o-four."

"Who my wife? Do you have a phone?" The man asked.

"I don't have a phone."

"I have to call my wife." The nurse said before turning away from Monica.

People were still appearing around Monica as she rushed towards the hospital front desk and crashed into a man.

"Are you okay? It's okay, I've got it." A nurse said, helping the stranger up before Monica could pull him to his feet.

"I'm looking for a patient in room one-o-four," Monica said to the woman behind the desk, who waved her off.

"I don't know what to tell you." She said before walking away.

Why will no-one help me? Monica wondered as she stared all around her. Where is my mother?

"Monica?" Her name was called loudly over the din. Monica spun to the person calling her name and let out a sigh of relief at the familiar figure.

"Oh, Dr. Harley, thank God!"

"I can't believe it." The woman said, staring Monica up and down.

"I was,"

"Where did you go?" The doctor cut Monica off.

"I've been in her room since she came back from surgery," Monica told her. "I mean, I might have fallen asleep, but no longer than twenty minutes. Dr. Harley, where's my mom?"

"Your mom, she died, honey." The doctor admitted, staring at Monica with honest eyes.

"What?" Monica asked, staring at the doctor in horror. "No. No, no, no, you're mistaken. My mother, the procedure went well. You said so yourself. Clean margins. You're discharging her today."

"The cancer came back." The doctor said, causing Monica to scoff.

"Okay, stop. Stop. You're, my mom is Maria Rambeau, look it up. I mean, look it up. Maria Rambeau." Monica demanded, rushing to the check-in desk and slamming her hand on the counter.

"Monica, I don't understand what's or how, but you need to listen to me. Maria died three years ago." Dr. Harley said, pulling Monica away from the desk.

"Three? No. No, no."

"Which was two years after you,"

"After I what? After I what?" Monica demanded, willing herself to not let her face crumple.

"After you disappeared."

Monica had been dead for five years, well gone as the rest of the world put it. She disappeared in her mother's hospital room, and when she woke up, five years had passed.

Monica had been gone for five years and her mother two. 

The only difference, her mother wouldn't be coming back any time soon.

But Monica was Maria's daughter. Monica had been raised by the strongest of women and refused to crumble under grief's pressure.

So Monica had thrown herself back into the world. She had forced herself back into the life she once lived.

It had been three weeks since Monica and the rest of the universe had found herself undusting, and now she was walking through the SWORD headquarters, preparing for a meeting.

Monica had flashed her badge at the scanner, but the doors wouldn't open as the scanners beeped at her.

"Ma'am? Over here, please." A man from the desk called her over.

"Hi, good morning. I work here, and," 

"If you did, your badge would work." The man cut her off, staring at her with a blank face.

"Right." Monica chuckled nervously. "Um, I have a meeting with,"

"You know who this is?" Tyler Hayward asked, appearing beside Monica.

"This guy." Monica smiled, relieved.

"Captain Monica Rambeau." Hayward stuck his hand out.

"Director Tyler Hayward." Monica nodded, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

"Acting Director." Hayward corrected. "You haven't aged a day." He complimented.

"And you look old as hell," Monica commented with a smirk, causing Hayward to chuckle.

"Come on, let's catch you up," Hayward said, leading Monica away from the desk and towards the doors she'd tried to enter. "It's been three weeks, and you're the first to report. Can't say I'm surprised, Captain."

"How are the numbers for the astronaut training program?" Monica asked as she and Hayward walked down long and winding halls.

"Dismal. Lost half my personnel in The Blip, and half of those remaining have lost nerve." Hayward told her with a frown. "The program hasn't been the same you've been up there, Rambeau. Shifted away from human-manned mission and refocused on robotics, nanotech, AI. Sentient Weapons, like it, says on the door."

"It also says, "Observation and Response" on that door, not "Creation," Monica noted.

"The world's not the same as you left it. Space is now full of unexpected threats." Hayward told her.

"Always full of threats. And allies." Monica corrected the man.

"Listen, Monica, I just wanna acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation. I know SWORD's your home." Hayward acknowledged, stopping in the middle of a pristine white hallway. "Your mom built this place from the ground up. You grew up here. You should've been here to help name the replacement."

"You were the obvious choice," Monica said with a work-approved smile.

"I was the only choice."   

"I wasn't gonna say it," Monica smirked as Hayward chuckled quietly. "Look, Tyler, you know the job you have to do. I'm here to do mine." She told him, nodding to herself.

"Let's get you back out there," Hayward said, opening the door to his office and letting Monica step inside. "The FBI is in a tizzy over a missing person case up in Jersey."

"Missing persons?" Monica asked, raising a brow.

"I know. But the FBI has requested the use of one of our imaging drones, and I need a chaperone." Hayward told her.

"Tyler, drones usually chaperone me." Monica shook her head.

"I get it." The man nodded before Monica cut him off.

"Look, if this is because of, you don't have to worry about me. I'm good." Monica assured, cringing at the thought of her lost five years.

"There's no easy way to say this but, you're grounded," Hayward said, causing Monica to pause.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Terrestrial missions only," Hayward confirmed.

"You're kidding. For how long?" Monica scoffed, glaring daggers at the man. "Whose protocol is this?"

"Your mother's," Hayward admitted. "She implemented guidelines in the event vanished personnel ever returned. Look, I know it's a raw deal, but there is one positive takeaway." He said as Monica rolled her eyes.

"And what's that?"

"She believed you'd come back." He said, causing the woman before him to freeze. "You'd be doing me a big favor with this FBI thing, but if you need more time,"

"No. No, I'm good to go." Monica cut him off, looking much sourer than when she began this meeting. 

"Excellent. Keep me updated, Captain." Hayward stood, handing Monica a file which she took with a frown.

Monica made the drive to Westview, New Jersey, the next day. 

The plan was to get there that morning and be out of there by the end of the week. 

In all honesty, Monica did not want to do this assignment. It was so far beneath her pay grade and not for someone with her skill set, but Monica would grin and bear it.

Monica would take whatever assignments she had to to get back to what she used to do. 

It was 11:30 in the morning when Monica pulled up to the edge of Westview where an FBI agent stood, talking with two officers.

"James E Woo, FBI." The agent introduced himself, pulling a card out of nowhere, causing Monica to smile.

"Monica Rambeau, SWORD. What's the story here, Agent Woo?" Monica asked, taking the business card between her fingers.

"I've got a witness set up down the road in Westview, and this morning, it looked like he flew the coop," Woo explained.

"Your missing person is in the Witness Protection Program?" Monica confirmed. 

"I have contacted known associates, relatives," Woo started, but Monica cut him off.

"And let me guess, none of them have seen him either?" She asked, a clearer picture of what was happening now in her head. 

"No. None of them have ever heard of our guy." The man said, shattering Monica's picture.  "Something seemed hanky to me, so I took the first flight out of Oakland to interface with the local law enforcement, which is when I encountered a new wrinkle."

"What is that?"

The FBI agent didn't respond merely nodded his head over to the two police officers, and the two made their way over to them. 

"Pardon me, Sheriff. Would you mind repeating your claim about Westview to my colleague here?" James asked the blank-faced Sherrif.

"No such place." The Sherrif shrugged.

"You're saying the town of Westview, New Jersey, doesn't exist?" Monica asked, turning to the visible sign, with a raised brow.

"It's what I keep telling your G-Man here, but he won't listen." The man said, sipping his coffee.

"I see. And, I'm sorry, but what town are you from?" She wondered.

"Eastview." The man answered, causing Monica's befuddlement to grow.

"Thank you, Sherrif. We'll reach out if we need further assistance." James dismissed the officers as he and Monica turned back to her car. "I pulled phone numbers for all the residents, I'm only through the D's, but so far, I got diddly squat." He told her.

"So you can't reach anyone inside, and everyone on the outside has some sort of selective amnesia?" Monica asked.

"This isn't a missing person's case, Captain Rambeau. It's a missing town. Population 3,892." James said, turning to the sign.

"Why haven't you gone inside to investigate?" Monica questioned the agent.

"Cause it doesn't want me to," James told Monica, causing her head to snap and face him. "You can feel it too, can't you? Nobody's supposed to go in." He said, finally acknowledging the unsettling feeling in the air. 

Monica couldn't respond. She couldn't think of a single thing to say at that moment, so she didn't.

Monica didn't say anything as she opened her trunk and pulled out one of the SWORD drones.

"What about you?" Monica asked as she set the drone up.

"Me?" James confirmed before letting out a small chuckle. "Well, I'm from Bakersfield originally. Growin' up, other kids had Micheal Jordan posters on their walls, but I had Elliot Ness." He explained as Monica moved to stand beside him.

"No, no, no. I mean, why is it that you have an awareness of Westview? Or me, for that matter?" Monica asked, focusing on the controls in her hands. "Is it because we are outside of a certain radius or maybe because we don't have a personal connection?"

"I don't know, maybe,"

"Wait. Where'd it go?" Monica cut James off as the video feed fritzed and the drone disappeared from the air.

"It was right there," James said as Monica stalked closer to the town.

As Monica got closer to the town's edge, she finally noticed the cause of the man behind nerves. 

"Whoa."

"What is it?"

"Some sort of energy field," Monica said, raising her hand towards the force field. 

"Careful, Rambeau," James warned, stilling at Monica's actions. "Captain Rambeau!" He exclaimed when Monica's hand touched the field. "Watch out! Rambeau! Captain Rambeau!"

But it was too late. Monica had touched the force field, and she had disappeared.

Darcy Lewis had been through and experienced so many things in the past thirteen years. Experiences that had completely changed her definition of weird.

That's why when she was approached by two SWORD agents, camped outside of her apartment, asking if she would help on what they were described as an anomaly, Darcy didn't bat an eye before agreeing.

Now Darcy was sat in the back of a van with three other people.

"Hey, what's your field?" Darcy asked the man across from her, breaking the silence of the car.

"We're not supposed to talk to each other." The man shook his head, eyes wide.

"Hmm? Boy Scout leader. Got it." Darcy rolled her eyes before turning the woman beside him. "And you?"

"Nuclear Biology." The woman told her

"Artificial Intelligence." The bald man beside Darcy said.

"Astrophysics." Darcy nodded. "We got the full clown car. It means whatever the threat it, SWORD clearly has no idea what they're dealing with."

"I'm a chemical engineer." The Boy Scout leader piped up.

"No-one cares." Darcy shot him down quickly as the van came to a halt.

"Alright, grab your gear." An agent from the front ordered.

Darcy was the first to exit the car and survey the chaos around her. 

They set up a base camp faster than I paint a base coat. Darcy thought as she walked past several men and women.

"Ms. Lewis." A man called, walking over to her.

"Dr. Lewis." Darcy corrected him. 

"We have your gear inside." The agent said before leading her towards her station.

"Those drones you're sending in, what kinda data are you getting?" Darcy asked, watching as one drone approached Westview on a screen before disappearing.

"I'm afraid that's highly classified." The agent told her.

"You can't see anything?" She asked, causing the agent to freeze.  "FBI, Army. I saw the Air Force Office of Special Investigations out there." She commented, setting up her computer. "Research Lab, Space Command, too. A bona fide, joint, multi-service response. Looking forward to a commemorative T-shirt. Is there somewhere a lady could get a cup of coffee? You guys look like you might get down with those little pod things, horrendous for the environment, by the way."

"Make your assessment, please." The man sighed, irritated by Darcy's comments. 

While going on her mini-tirade, Darcy had been setting up her equipment and station. She now looked down at a small device in her hand, watching it scan the area.

"Whoa. I mean, whoa." Darcy said, her eyes incredibly wide, as she adjusted her glasses.

"What're you getting?" The agent demanded, moving closer to her.

"A colossal amount of CMBR," Darcy told him.

"CM?"

"Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation." She clarified.

"We've been told the radiation is within a safe limit." The agent said, looking at Darcy in concern.

"It is, for now."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Sh!" She cut him off with a hiss. Darcy watched the device in her hand with rapt interest as it continued to beep. "There are longer wavelengths superimposed over the noise here." She thought aloud, chewing on her lower lip. 

Darcy surveyed her surroundings before she found what she needed beside her. 

"I got it," Darcy grunted as she heaved a large piece of computing systems onto her desk. Darcy fiddled with the settings and the knobs before a blurry picture began to appear. "I need a TV. An old one. Like, not flat." She told the agent beside her.

Hours later, it had begun to rain, but that didn't stop SWORD operations.

A man in a plastic hazmat suit walked over to where Hayward was standing, allowing the rain to soak his form.

"You good to go?" Hayward asked, yelling slightly over the weather.

"Yes, sir." The man nodded. 

"The sewers will take you straight into town. Try to find anything you can on Rambeau." Hayward ordered him.

"Copy that." The man said, beginning to descend into the sewers.

"Agent Franklin. We will keep this channel open for you." Hayward said over Franklin's earpiece as he crawled through the small tunnel.

"Copy."

"Keep me updated," Hayward told the assembled team before walking away. 

"Director Hayward," Woo said, jogging beside Hayward. "Between you me and the bedpost, I am not confident about this mission."

"Thanks for the feedback, Jimmy. If only my drones were as forthcoming." Hayward said as they entered a tent. 

"There's no reason to suspect the perimeter doesn't extend subterraneously." Jimmy tried to reason. 

"There's no reason to suspect it does."

"We don't know enough about the nature of the threat to send another agent when the first is yet to return," Jimmy told the director.

"Someone must miss you back in Quantico." Hayward scoffed. 

"No, sir. Softball season's over, sir." Jimmy joked.

"What do we have up?" Hayward asked, walking further into the room and towards a female agent.

"Radar, lidar, sodar, infared." She told him.

"Cycle through," Hayward demanded. When the woman couldn't get anything up on the screen, Hayward let out a sigh. "Will someone get me a useful visual, damn it?" He asked before loud studio audience laughter rang through the room. "What is that? Who's doing that?" He asked as everyone began to look around.

"Who are those people?"

"What are you wearing?"

"And why are they here?"

"What are you wearing?"

Hayward froze as he caught sight of a dark-haired woman watching the source on an old-fashioned television.

"Well, it's our anniversary!"

"Our anniversary of what?"

"Vision now is not the time to debate your failing memory processors."

"Is that?" Jimmy asked, leaning on the desk beside Darcy as several other officers and Hayward crowded behind her.

"Yeah, it looks like them." Darcy nodded, not taking her eyes off the screen.

And sure enough, on the screen before her was a black and white video of Wanda Maximoff, Y/N Barton, and The Vision.

"You move at the speed of sound, Y/N makes a storm with her pinky, and I can make a pen float through the air. Who needs to abbreviate?" Wanda questioned incredulously.

"Look, I know it's been a crazy few years on this planet, but he's dead, right?" Darcy asked, turning to Jimmy, who hadn't taken his eyes off the screen. "Not blipped, dead."

"Excellent plan. Where's the tenderizer?" Vision asked.

"We're looking at him," Y/N said as she handed Vision the tenderizer.

"What am I looking at?" Hayward demanded. "You. What is this? Where's this coming from?" He asked Darcy.

"Out there," Darcy said, throwing her arm up in a vague gesture to the outside. 

"You didn't answer the back door. For your upside-down cake." A dark-haired woman said, holding a pineapple in her hand.

"Is it authentic?" Hayward asked.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," Darcy told him.

"Is it happening in real-time? Is it recorded? Fabricated?" He pressed.

"I don't know. I don't know. And I don't know." Darcy told him. 

"What do you know?" Hayward demanded.

"My equipment registered an extremely high level of CMBR. That's,"

"Relic radiation dating back to the Big Bang." Hayward nodded.

"Yeah." Darcy nodded. "Entwined was a broadcast frequency. So I had one of your goons pick me up a sweet vintage TV, and when I plug this bad boy in, voila, sound and picture."

"Dinner is served."

"So, you're saying the universe created a sitcom starring three Avengers?" Jimmy asked, staring at the screen in confusion.

"It's a working theory." Darcy shrugged.

"Get me transport back to headquarters now. And someone get me, Clint Barton." Hayward demanded, causing two men to rush away. "Are we recording this?" He asked the woman.

"Never stopped," Darcy informed him.

"I need immediate analysis. Now, people. Let's go!" Hayward said before walking away. All the agents scattered, keen on following orders, leaving Jimmy and Darcy alone.

"He's a charmer." Darcy scoffed.

"Great work." Jimmy smiled before getting up and walking away.

"Hey, thanks." Darcy grinned happily. "Maybe I can get that coffee now?" She asked, looking around, but no-one even looked up. "Or not. That's cool." She grumbled, turning back to the screen as the episode finished and three kissed one another. "Aw!"

"First and foremost, our main objective is to get any intel on Captain Rambeau. Originally this case was a missing person, so we're going to start there," Jimmy explained to the gathered group. "We've successfully identified three individuals inside the Westview anomaly." He added, hanging up pictures of Wanda, Y/N, and Vision in their 1950's garb. "Let's keep going."

"This guest is leaving your home." Mrs. Hart said as Darcy frantically typed away at her keyboard.

Everyone in the room had a job to do to find out what was happening in Westview.

Some were watching the footage on repeat, taking copious notes, Darcy was attempting to find out who was playing who, people were tracking the radiation waves coming from the town, and Jimmy had been filling out a whiteboard with questions.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hart. Played by Todd and Sharon Davis." Darcy announced, holding up two forms with pictures of the two before hanging them up beside the three other photos. 

"Computational forms," Norm said. "And no-one can process the data quite like you do, pal."

"Agent Woo." A man interrupted Jimmy's watching of the footage before handing him a form.

Jimmy slightly smiled as he read it before calling out, 

"Abhilash Tandon is Norm."

"Harold Copter is Jones!"

"We got Isabel Matsueida cast as Beverly!"

"John Collins as Herb!"

It had been hours of searching, trying to figure out everyone's identity, and Darcy was tired. 

Tired and hungry.

She had just made herself cup ramen and made her way back to her desk when she let out a gasp and dropped her noodles. 

"Jimmy!" She called, dropping into her seat, not even bothering to clean up the mess. "Damn it, Woo. Hurry up!"

"What?" Jimmy asked, rushing over and freezing when he saw who was on the screen. "Oh my god." Jimmy sighed, sinking into a chair beside Darcy.

"Does she seem okay to you?" Darcy asked as the two watched Monica read a newspaper while Wanda, Y/N, and Agnes spoke in the background.

"Well, she doesn't appear to be harmed in any way, but that is definitely not the boss lady I met yesterday." Jimmy determined.

"So what, deep cover? Monica has to play along?" Darcy asked.

"With whom? Or else, what? All right. Brass tacks, Dr. Lewis. What are we lookin' at here? Is it an alternate reality? Time travel? Some cockamamie social experiement?" Jimmy asked

"It's a sitcom. A 1950's sitcom." Darcy explained, shaking her head.

"But why?" Jimmy wondered.

"I'd like to know that myself." Clint Barton demanded, now standing behind the two.

"Agent Barton." Jimmy greeted, standing up and moving towards the man. "I was told you wouldn't be here until tomorrow."

"Well, it turns out a quinjet makes journies a lot quicker," Clint said, crossing his arms. "Where is my daughter? And where is Wanda?"

"We'll have to fill you in later, Hawkeye." Darcy piped up. "I think I have an idea how to contact them."

"How?"

"So there's this radio that sits in the kitchen, right? The next time someone's washing the dishes, which happens like once an episode, barf, we'll shoot a signal to that little guy." Darcy explained.

"Sounds like a plan. What do you need done?" Clint asked. 

"This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast, and if my theory is right, allow us to speak to either Y/N or Wanda. This is totally gonna work." Darcy explained, continuing to set up the station. "Don't touch that." She admonished Jimmy.

"Agent Woo." A woman called, walking over to the three with a file.

"Is this from the current episode?" Jimmy asked, looking at the picture in his hands.

"Aired about two minutes ago." The woman nodded.

"What is it?" Clint asked, looking over the man's shoulder.

"What does it look like to you?"

"It looks like a retro version of a SWORD drone," Clint noted as Darcy took the picture out of his hands.

"Bingo." Jimmy nodded.

"But how did it change and why?" Clint wondered.

"Uh, to go with production design?" Jimmy guessed.

"Or to render it useless." Darcy theorized.

"Why'd you colorize it?" Jimmy asked the female agent.

"I didn't." She shook her head.

"Let's get this show on the road. Clint, you're with me." Darcy said, grabbing her laptop and rushing back into the tent with Clint on her heels.

Darcy and Clint donned their headpieces before Darcy turned to the window.

"Jimmy, you ready?"

"Ready," Jimmy affirmed, holding his thumb up. 

Darcy and Clint took their seats in front of the screen where Wanda and Y/N were now talking with Monica.

"Uh, Jimmy, Monica is talking now. She's got a speaking part." Darcy told him.

"What is she saying?" Jimmy wondered.

"Say those pants are peachy keen. Both sets."

"She likes their pants." Darcy shrugged. "They're at some sort of swim club. We've never been here before."

"Is it the sixties still?" Jimmy wondered.

"Still the sixties and still black and white." Clint relayed, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"The girls are with another character," Darcy told Jimmy. 

"Another person." Jimmy corrected.

"I can't help but wonder if the three of us haven't gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie. And I'd like to, we'd like to, correct that if we can." Wanda said to a blonde woman.

"Ooh, radio on the side table!" Darcy cheered. 

"Start talking," Clint ordered the man.

"Wanda, do you read me? Agent Barton, are you there?" Jimmy asked. "Can they hear me?"

"I don't think so," Darcy told him. 

"Keep trying." Clint pushed.

"Wanda. Wanda, can you hear me? Agent Barton, do you read me? Wanda? Y/N?"

As Jimmy continued to speak to the two, Clint and Darcy were staring at the screen intently, waiting for any sign they might hear. 

For a second, it looked like it might have worked. The radio on the television crackled before the show jump cut.

"Pop quiz, Wanda," Dottie said as Y/N wrapped her hand. "How does a housewife get a bloodstain out of white linen? By doing it herself."

"Wait." Darcy stuttered, staring at the screen in confusion.

"What?" Jimmy asked.

"I don't know," Darcy said. "That was weird."

"What was?"

"Nothing." Darcy shook her head when the show faded to a commercial. "It's over. Mission failure."

"It was worth a try. Good effort, Darcy."

"Yeah, come on in," Darcy said, pulling off her headset.

"You saw that, right?" Clint asked, pulling off his own. "I wasn't imagining that. The screen cut?"

"It's an old TV, Clint. It flickers." Darcy sighed.

Franklin had been crawling through the sewers for what felt like days. It was hot inside his suit, he was sweating, and the sewer smelt like a sewer was supposed to.

But Franklin kept crawling along. 

He kept crawling even when he passed through the energy field, and the cord around his waist fell off.

No-one was sure what had happened to Franklin. He'd never checked in with base, and when the cord had been rewound, the end had somehow turned into a child's jump rope.

When morning came, no-one had slept. Everyone at the SWORD base had stayed awake all night, continuing their search into the Westview anonymity.

Darcy wasn't sure who had suggested it, but soon the room had been filled with old-fashioned TV's all playing the latest episode. 

The show was now in color as the decade had shifted into the seventies.

"Sweetheart, do you think it's time to,"

"Call the doctor."

"1950's, 1960's and now the '70's. Why does it keep switching time periods?" Darcy asked as she, Jimmy, and Clint sat in front of the same TV. "It can't be purely for my enjoyment, can it?" Darcy wondered, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"I can't believe Y/N and Wanda are both pregnant," Jimmy commented, watching with rapt interest.

"I can't believe I'm about to be a grandfather." Clint sighed, staring at the screen in confusion.

"Can I ask you something?" Darcy asked, turning to Clint. "Do you seriously not know where Wanda and your daughter were before this?" She questioned the archer, recalling what she read in his statement.

"No. I don't know where they were." Clint shook his head. "And I'm the only person to blame."

"That can't be true." Jimmy tried to assure.

"It is." Clint nodded. "I hadn't seen Y/N since 2017 when Thanos snapped. She was on the run with Wanda and team Cap after the raft, but I'd taken a plea. After Banner snapped and Thanos dusted, my only thought was to get back to my wife. I left Y/N with Wanda on the battlefield." Clint admitted. "I abandoned her."

"Look, I wasn't there during that final fight, but I can imagine the chaos after," Darcy said to the man. "It's not the coolest thing you could have done, but it's understandable."

"Shh!" Jimmy hissed. "The girls are giving birth!" He said, causing Darcy and Clint to turn back to the screen. "Congratulations, Agent Barton, you've got a granddaughter."

"Yeah, and two grandsons."

"Twins. What a twist." Darcy sniffed, causing both men to turn and face her. "What? I'm invested."

"He was killed by Ultron. Wasn't he?"

"Did she just say the name Ultron?" Jimmy demanded. "Has that happened before? A reference to our reality."

"No. Never." 

"Don't go near her." Wanda snapped, stopping Geraldine from moving beside a sleeping Y/N. 

"Hey, I'll take a shift rocking the babies." Geraldine offered, beginning to move closer to the bassinets when the babies started to cry.

"No, I think you should leave." Wanda shook her head, blocking the bassinets from her view.

"Oh, Wanda, don't be like that," Geraldine said, staring at Wanda as though she were the crazy one.

"Who are you?" Wanda demanded, staring at the woman in anger.

"Wanda." Geraldine shook her head as she took a step back. "I'm. Wanda, I'm."

"This is different," Darcy said, staring at the screen uncomfortably. 

"What happened? Where'd she go?" Jimmy asked as the screen glitched. The screen glitched to the end credits, which showed Wanda, Y/N, and Vision now sitting on the couch, each holding a baby. 

"God not again." Darcy sighed, reaching over Jimmy to her laptop, which was recording the episode. Darcy quickly typed away at her computer, and it brought up the last ten seconds of the scene. "There's nothing here!" Darcy snapped when it played the same.

"You think it's still a glitch?" Clint asked her. 

"I don't get it. One second, Monica is standing right there, and the next, she isn't. Someone is censoring the broadcast." Darcy realized.

"But where's Rambeau?" Jimmy asked right as alerts began to blare.

"Alert! Boundry has been breached!" The alarm screeched, causing the entirety of the tent to rush into action.

"Who are you?" Wanda demanded, stalking closer to Geraldine. 

"Wanda, I'm just your neighbor." Geraldine attempted to reason with the woman.

"Then how did you know about Ultron?" Wanda demanded, tilting her head to the side.

But Geraldine couldn't answer, causing Wanda's hands to glow bright red. 

"You're not my neighbor," Wanda whispered tearfully. "And you're definitely not my friend. You are a stranger and an outsider. And right now, you are trespassing here. And I want you to leave." She said before blasting Geraldine out of her home.

It took a second for Wanda to realize what she had done. Geraldine was gone, and there were large holes in the walls. 

She stared at her hands in shock before looking over to her wife, who was just beginning to stir. 

Thinking quickly, Wanda used her powers to pull the house back together and reset it.

Before Wanda could wonder too much about what she had done, one of the babies let a loud cooing noise.

Wanda had just moved back in front of the bassinets when the front door slammed open.

"Wanda? Where's Geraldine?" Vision asked, rounding the couch to stand beside a stirring Y/N.

"Oh, she left, honey," Wanda told him, not turning to face him. "She had to rush home." She added, finally turning to the man.

But the sight of Vision caused Wanda's eyes to widen and a gasp to escape her mouth.

Vision had lost all his color. He was grey, his eyes white, and there was a hole in his head.

"What?" Vision asked. "What is it? What's wrong?" He asked, moving closer to Wanda.

When Wanda looked up, she was relieved to see Vision was back to normal.

"We don't have to stay here. We could go wherever we want." Vision reminded his wife.

"No, we can't." Wanda shook her head. "This is our home." She smiled.

"Are you sure?" 

"Don't worry, darling. I have everything under control." She said as Y/N sat up on the couch with a yawn.

Outside of Westview, Jimmy and Darcy had made it to the scene.

"Monica!" Jimmy gasped, kneeling beside the woman. "Are you okay?"

"It's Wanda," Monica whispered, staring at the night sky blankly. "It's all Wanda."

"I thought you said you'd wake me if the babies cried?" Y/N asked, taking Tommy into her arms.

"I had it control, sweetheart. You needed your rest." Wanda said, picking up Luna. "What should we watch tonight?" Wanda wondered, moving over to the couch.

Y/N and Vision followed their wife and sat on either side of her, each holding an infant. 

Today had been a series of crazy events, but it had had the best outcome. Y/N thought staring down at her son in her arms and her other children in the arms of her husband and wife.

Something is happening here. Vision thought glancing down at his squirming daughter. 

We’re safe here. Wanda thought with a smile as she made faces at the baby in her arms. I’ll keep us safe.

Taglist is open throughout the entirety of the series.

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[vivianweasley]

Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 5)

Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley. 

In this chapter: It’s already the last month of your fake marriage. Is all of this really going to end?

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, misunderstanding, insecurity, mean relatives, reader being jealous?

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I apologize for not updating for so long cuz I was feeling burnt out. And I apologize in advance for this chapter, but since it’s Pride and Prejudice themed, I had to include a part like this afghjldfk Also, I may or may not named one of the characters after a Pride and Prejudice character:)

Pictures are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist

Sometimes you would wonder what would it be like if you and Fred were friends when you were still in Hogwarts. And as your mind wandered through these imaginary scenarios, you would also daydream about what would it be like if you went to the Yule Ball with him. But regardless, just being in this moment, dancing with him to your favorite love song, was magical enough.

You were invited to Fred’s cousin’s wedding, along with the other Weasleys. Playing the character of Fred’s wife for almost eleven months now made you a regular guest to all kinds of the Weasley family gatherings. 

As the music played and the guests joining the bride and groom on the dance floor, you and Fred decided to join, too. 

“I’m definitely playing this song at my own wedding!” you were excited when your favorite love song started playing.

“And I’m definitely play something livelier,” Fred smiled as he commented.

“Glad we’re not having the same wedding then,” you glared at him, trying hard not to step on his foot. “I have a feeling our idea of an ideal wedding would be completely different.”

“So what is your ideal wedding?” Fred asked. You looked up at him and realized he looked sincere. 

“I haven’t really thought about it, but a small wedding with my close family and friends would be nice,” you answered. You left out one detail. All you could think of now was what would it be like if you could really marry Fred. But of course, you wouldn’t tell him that, “I’m assuming yours would be something more exciting.” 

“Of course!” If you paid attention, you would notice the blush climbing up on Fred’s cheeks, but you were too flustered by your own daydreams. 

“Let me guess, someone would probably turn into a canary.”

“Very likely,” he replied while twirling you around with the music, “and that someone is probably you!”

You laughed as you twirled. You weren’t paying close attention to your steps, and your right foot tripped your left foot. But you landed in Fred’s arm.

You looked up at him as your heartbeat started to pick up. Your lips were only inches away now that you could already feel his breath brushing lightly against your lips. 

You didn’t know how long has passed as you two both froze on the spot. Just a little bit closer and your lips would be pressing together. You never knew you wanted this kiss so desperately until now, and the fact that this was already the last month of your one-year marriage contract made it worse. You would be lying if you say you have never fantasized about Fred reciprocating your feelings, and this fake marriage could turn into a real one by the end of the year. 

“Fred?” A voice interrupted this moment and your daydream.

Fred pulled away awkwardly with the blush still tainting his cheeks. “Mrs. Collins? Maureen?”  You turned and saw the owner of the voice was an older woman and beside her was a beautiful younger woman, who’s about your age.

“Freddie! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Mrs. Collins pulled Fred into a hug, and when she finally let go of him, her eyes turned to look at you.

“Oh, Mrs. Collins, this is Y/N.”

You put on a polite smile and held out your hand, “Hi, I’m Y/N-”

“Malfoy!” she cut you off, without acknowledging your hand, “I’ve heard that Freddie married a Malfoy. How interesting! How did you two meet?”

The way she said “Malfoy” and her question stung you. From past experiences, you knew this conversation is probably not going to end well. “Our parents are actually old friends, so we met when we were still little,” you answered, hands fidgeting and not looking at Mrs. Collins.

“What a coincidence! Cause Maureen and Fred have also known each other since they were kids, isn’t that right, Freddie?”

“Yea,” Fred smiled, not noticing how your expression froze in an awkward state, “Oh, Y/N, this is Maureen. We used to be friends when we were kids until she transferred to Beauxbatons.”

“Hey, it wasn’t like I had a choice!” She slapped on Fred’s arm, causing Fred to laugh while pretending to be hurt.

Watching them interact so naturally, you suddenly felt like you were interrupting something. A horrible feeling crept up in your mind. What if there’s already someone in Fred’s life, yet you still forced him to sign this stupid marriage contract?

“And Maureen’s an interior designer now! So if your little shop needs a makeover, I’m sure Maureen’s willing to help,” Mrs. Collins suggested. Her tone and expression all reminded you of your mum when she tried to set you and Fred up.

“Oh right! Fred,” Mrs. Collins continued, “come say hi to the rest of the family! I’m sure they all missed you a lot.”

“I would love to, but Y/N...” Fred looked at you. You couldn’t figure out what his expression meant? Was this an excuse because he didn’t want to go? Or did he want to go?

You didn’t know why insecurity started to cloud your brain. Growing up, you always thought you’re proud most of the time, but this was not the case when it comes to your last name. You knew you shouldn’t feel ashamed of it. The history and crime this name carried have nothing to do with you. And you knew feeling ashamed of it gives it power over you, but all you could do was retreating to your shell whenever someone brought up your last name.

So your final decision was, “It’s okay, you can go. I’ll go find Ginny.”

“Great!” Mrs. Collins started dragging Fred to her family’s table. Fred was still looking at you, but then you heard Mrs. Collins say, “Don’t worry about Y/N! I know she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with our sort of people, anyway.”

Your stomach sank. What did she mean by “our sort of people”? And more importantly, what did being your sort of people imply?

A few months ago, you thought changing your last name by marriage could solve everything. But the cruel fact was that it changed nothing.

And maybe it was your insecurity talking, but how could Fred not say anything when Mrs. Collins made such a comment? Did he not understand what she meant? Or did he...agree with her?

After they disappeared in the crowd, you immediately apparate back to the apartment like you were fleeing a monster from your nightmare. That was the only logical move you could think of at that time.

~

“Fred,” you kicked off your heels after you got back to the apartment from work and began rambling on about your day, “you won’t believe what happened today. I-” But the words choked in your throat when you saw another person in the kitchen. You recognized it was Maureen Collins from the wedding a week ago. 

You thought you already forgot about what Mrs. Collins said to you at the wedding, but those words immediately rushed back when you saw Maureen again.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re back!” Fred exclaimed, and he noticed the box in your hand, “Is that my favorite pie!”

“Yea, I didn’t know...” It was supposed to be a surprise, but now it just felt extra when it seemed like they were already cooking a meal.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier. This was really last-minute,” Maureen explained.

“Yea, Maureen was here to help with the makeover of the shop, and it’s almost dinner time when we were done, so we thought-”

“No worries,” you cut Fred off before he could finish with the explanation. You didn’t like the way he sounded. It almost made you feel like you were a party pooper. 

“We can just eat the pie tomorrow!” You tried to put on a smile when you shoved the pie into the fridge.

“Brilliant! All sorted now! Y/N, come help! Dinner would be ready faster if we had three people cooking.”

“Yea,” Maureen chuckled, “Fred was just talking about the first time you two tried to cook together. It must be difficult having to cook with an absolute idiot, let alone being forced to live with him for one year.”

Your heart sank. Fred told her that the marriage is fake? According to your contract, he shouldn’t have told anyone, unless...

Watching Maureen cooking and laughing with Fred, your mind just couldn’t shake off the images of her living here and being his real wife. You had to admit that you didn’t like these images, but why should you care if someone else is going to live here instead of you. Your mum forced you to live here anyway, and now you could finally go home.

Home. You sighed as the image of home appeared in your mind. And you finally admitted that for the past few months, you also considered this apartment your home.

But you put on the contract yourself stating that you both could date whoever you like during this fake marriage, and you had no business in interfering with Fred and Maureen’s relationship now.

So you picked up your jacket again, “Actually, I’m having dinner with my friend tonight-”

“But I thought you were planning to eat at home,” Fred pointed at the fridge, referring to the pie.

“Oh, that’s for tomorrow,” you lied, even though you knew your excuses didn’t match with what you just said a few minutes ago. You panicked, so you proceeded to say something that you never thought you would say, “Plus, I need to give you two space.” You even said it with a wink, covering for the fact that you panicked, and you just rushed out the door before anyone could say anything. 

~

You went back to your parents’ house for the night and only returned to the apartment the next morning. Knowing the exact time when Fred would usually go downstairs to the joke shop, you successfully apparated into the apartment without bumping into anyone. You just wanted to avoid seeing him.

You decided to start packing up. There are only less than two weeks left, and you didn’t want to occupy other people’s home for longer than you needed. Your pride demanded a graceful exit.

You knew it would be much easier and quicker if you used magic. Just by a flick of your wand, everything would be packed. It would be so clean like you’ve never been here before, but somehow, you just wanted to take your time with it.

And it was until you started packing when you realized how attached you were to this little apartment. One year wasn’t that long, just like what you said at the beginning of all this, but every corner of this apartment had trails of you living here and your memories.

It was just a contract, you tried to convince yourself, and now the time’s up. But it still pained you to remove your every trail. You realized you were not only removing your existence from this apartment but also Fred Weasley’s life. 

“Y/N?” You were so busy going down memory lane that you didn’t notice the series of footsteps coming upstairs. You turned and saw Fred, who looked very confused now as he glanced around and saw the packed boxes. “What are you doing?”

“Just packing up,” you tried to say it as indifferently as possible, “there are only two weeks left, so I thought I should probably start moving my stuff away.”

“Oh,” Fred paused for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile, “guess you’re finally free.”

“Yea, and so are you,” you tried to force a laugh, maybe he’s always waiting for this moment, the moment that he’s finally free, “I’ll move back to my parents’ house this week so that the divorce would look more realistic.”

His mouth opened, and you could tell that he was trying to say something. And for a second, you thought maybe he’s trying to think of a way to stop you. To say that he didn’t want you to leave.

But all he said was, “Okay.”

~

It was only around 6:30 am when you woke up. There were too many things on your mind that you couldn’t even enjoy staying asleep at ease. It was your last night here, after all.

Fred was still asleep with both his arm and leg on top of you. He’s an obnoxious sleeper, but you didn’t mind. 

You snuggled closer to him as your mind went through the nights that he comforted you when you couldn’t sleep, the sleepless nights that you would chat and laugh with so much ease, and the mornings when you woke with your limbs tangled together. It all felt like a dream, and maybe now it’s time to wake up. 

But before you do that, before you had to exit from his life, you just wanted to stay in this moment and stay in his arms for a little longer. You closed your eyes as you took in that familiar cinnamon scent and his cologne. Let’s just dream for a little longer.

~

Fred woke up with the other side of the bed empty. In a haze of sleepiness, he thought you just went to the bathroom. You would always come back to bed and try to squeeze in a few minutes of sleep before finally getting up and getting ready. But you didn’t come back today.

In fact, the apartment was awfully quiet today. He couldn't hear your footsteps rushing in and out of the bedroom to get ready for work. And he didn't hear you yelling things like "Did you see my keys?" or "FRED! Where did my apple juice go??"

Fred got up and tried to search for you in the living room, only to realize that most of your stuff was already gone. He collapsed on the nearby couch, not sure if he was still tired or feeling empty that you were gone.

How could you just walk away so easily? How could you just pull away from all of this almost like nothing ever happened? More importantly, how could you tease him about Maureen like it didn’t matter at all to you? And here he thought you two had great chemistry.

But without that and the contract of being fake husband and wife, Fred was confident that he could say you became friends. Even if you didn’t, at least you were roommates for a year, and that should induce some sort of emotion too.

But no, you just walked away, and all he could do was just getting used to not having you in his life anymore.

(to be continued.)

~

series taglist: @ifilosemyselfagain @theweasleytwinsgirl @bookworm06 @unabashedbookscollector @txtdreamss @sagittarius-flowerchild  @rsheridan @ovrwd @anywherebuthere @allaroundaddict @jeminila @secretsofageek @magical-spit @freddieweasleyswife @lilypad-55449 @hufflepuffzutara @honey-honey-5644 @kyloren-peterparker @treblebeth @kyloren-peterparker @fred-sux @rodrickmalfoy @liliputbahn @its-yasbxtch @daydreamgirl8​ @305weasley​ @awritingtree​  (message me if you want to be added or removed!)

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[industriallyinsecure]

How would yandere La Squadra go about their darling being extremely paranoid... maybe even an abduction survivor? Like, they won't drink or eat anything that's not sealed or prepared by them, they won't go anywhere without telling a loved one or friend where they are and where they're going. They only use their own car or commute with ppl they are close with, their door has several locks and bolts, the windows have special locks and they have a hidden weapon on their body and know how to use it.

I apologize for the long wait!

Sorbet and Gelato don’t care. Gelato is audacious enough to keep testing your boundaries by inserting himself into your life as mere coincidences. Sorbet is the only one keeping you safe, in a strange way. He constantly has to talk Gelato down with kisses and promises of taking you soon. Even if you pulled a weapon on them, there’s two of them. Your odds wouldn’t even be that great with just one of them pursuing you. The only problem is orchestrating the whole ordeal just right. With the constant paper trail you left, it would be difficult to just snatch you up and make you disappear off the face of the earth so suddenly. They have to strike in the golden hour, which, much to Gelato’s displeasure, means they have to leave you alone. When you stop frantically updating your friends and family, Gelato kicks in your door and Sorbet restrains you. Of course, when you wake up in an unfamiliar place with two men sandwiching you, the carefully crafted walls you put up to protect yourself from your past abduction come crumbling down. Gelato feels the tiniest bit remorseful and tries to kiss it better, but nothing works and they end up having to knock you out. Sorbet scolds Gelato for his hastiness while they cuddle on the chair across from the bed where your sleeping body whimpered and twitched. It would take some time to help you rebuild from your trauma, but the Milk and Milkless Dessert couple weren’t known for giving up easily.

Risotto is the same way. It’s part of the reason he was drawn to you. After researching about a hit and discovering they had kidnapped and held someone for ransom unsuccessfully, he felt it necessary to check in on the victim to see if there were any connections between them and Passione. More accurately, to see if the victim would cause any problems for Passione. When he first seeks you out, he’s not surprised about your demeanor. But something about your mouselike timidness drew him in. He knows he has to measure his steps carefully if he wants to get close. There’s a lot of methodical planning involved to make sure he doesn’t accidentally scare you off. He attempts to insert himself in your life subtly, appearing in places you go but not engaging you. When he was finally bold enough to seek you out in your own home, he finally saw the extent of your trauma. Metallica made it easy to bypass the many locks on the door, but it was a chore to do. Finding you waiting behind the door with a gun drawn was certainly a surprise, though. Seeing your perpetual eyebags and frowning features so frightened made his heart ache. It’s too bad you were close enough for Metallica to work. He’s positive you would’ve put up a good fight. But for now he’s focused on getting you tucked in. There was no reason to whisk you away when it was clear you were smart enough to be scared of the world outside.

Ghiaccio always has to be in the right, no matter the situation. He doesn’t care that you have trauma that makes your day to day hell or that his constant presence makes you wary and weary. His needs and desires come first at the cost of your comfort. He only compromises on his yelling when he notices he makes you flinch. Other than that, he’ll pester you nonstop. It’s a mystery how he is always where you are without fail. At a certain point, you refuse to leave your home because of it. Ghiaccio isn’t understanding of this and nearly breaks down your door and sends you into a panic attack. Seeing you scream and shield yourself with your arms makes him hesitate. What breaks him is when you plead for him to leave you alone and to not hurt you. It’s a rare moment of clarity in his obsession addled mind and he tries his best to calm you down, even though his touch makes you flinch away. In the middle of his attempt to soothe you, he ends up covering you in frost. The effects of White Album make your reactions sluggish and weak, but you have plenty of time to consider how you got here as he hefts you over his shoulder and buckles you into the passenger’s seat, wrapping the seatbelt around you several times.

Melone honestly has an Obsession of the Week™️, which more than half the time is just for scientific purposes. He likes to psychoanalyze random people he sees, just for funsies. You, on the other hand, were far too interesting to just dissect mentally and move on. He tuned in when you asked for a drink that was from an unopened case of products, and his interest only heightened when he saw you take a very calculated path through the lounge area. He noted you made sure to move in the blind spots of the windows and cameras before nestling safely in a corner where you could see the whole room, all the while peeking over your shoulder. At first, he thought OCD or some other disorder. It made sense, but he watched you timidly flick your eyes around as you uncapped your drink , sniffed it, and took a tentative sip. Melone is already mentally logging this information, creating trials and assessing variables as you sip away at your beverage. Of course when he went to pursue you after you left, he didn’t expect for you to pull a knife on him and threaten him with wide eyes to stay away. The reasons you gave were conjecture, though. He could see that you weren’t quite sure of your choice to confront him, the minuscule shaking of your hand only proving it. It’s laughably easy for him to disarm you, even if his thievery skills have gotten rusty from his transition from petty thief into assassin. After his civil approach, by his own standards, you're toted off to a nearby safe house where he could keep you while he arranges for your accommodations elsewhere.

This is a problem for Prosciutto. He and Formaggio are the most social creatures of La Squadra (Melone is well… social in a different way). Prosciutto loves to be seen. He likes going to the opera, to have someone on his arm dressed almost as finely as he was, to go to art auctions, to go out to a restaurant where the prices were high and the portions low. So your paranoid personality, while understandable, poses a problem for the fantasy he made within five minutes of seeing you shuffle around the market in what he would describe as “bum clothes” (aka sweatpants and a baggy shirt). He notes that every step you take is deliberate, every move calculated and determined beforehand. With his years of stealth training, he trails you for a while to fully observe you. One thing that stuck out to him was that you were always in public places, among crowds with just enough people that you would be missed if you were swept off your feet by a dashing blond in a finely pressed suit. Prosciutto is a fixer. He lives to nitpick and improve and fix everyone he cares for, and you are no different. Soon you’ll find yourself in the company of the handsome blond you’ve seen around town, whether you like it or not. He takes it upon himself to interject and speak over you when it comes to certain things, stating how you should’ve handled a situation. Your paranoia is soon taken advantage of, with Prosciutto feeding into it by isolating you and forcing you to depend on him. Not that he minds. He loves to help people improve. On his terms, of course.

Illuso takes it as a challenge. He’s very reserved as well, and when he observed you for his own interest, it was kismet. Illuso is great at playing the long game and letting his opponent’s psyche get the best of them. With your ‘weakened’ mind, he could play around with you as much as he liked. Tapping on your (barred)window, the mirror, moving stuff. Your own personal curator of hell. He never once feels bad, but he wondered why he didn’t stop playing poltergeist after his usual week or so. Soon he found himself just…staring at your permanently furrowed brow and frowning lips. Maybe if he isolated you in a place where he knew there wouldn’t be anyone, he could get something out of you? Secretly pulls you into the mirror world and observes you. He lets you sit in the comfort of assured solitude before making his grand entrance. Of course he didn’t expect to get punched in the gut and to have a knife pulled on him. He might boast that Man in the Mirror is the strongest stand, but stands are pretty much useless when you’re taken by surprise by someone you underestimated. For a moment, he can’t decide if this makes him like you a lot more, or if you deserve a kick to the gut. Maybe both.

Formaggio firmly believes in the ideology of “take no shit, give no fucks”. He may be social, but he’s not exactly socially intelligent. Case in point, he didn’t understand that his social butterfly-ness might be a huge turn off for some people. So he’s pretty much at a loss for what to do. His previous flings loved it, but you, well, you wanted nothing to do with him in any capacity. Formaggio was supposed to have been scouting his hit, but he was mostly checking out the Milfs, Dilfs, and Pilfs (parent) that passed. And when his gaze finally fell on you, sitting by yourself, he had to swoop in. Similar to how he reacts to Narancia, he’s very affable when you pull your weapon on him and threaten him with very serious eyes, even joking with you playfully when you ask him what he thinks he’s doing. I love him dearly, but Formaggio is a dumb man. He can’t read social cues and probably just thinks you’re playing hard to get when in reality you have trauma. But since he hides all his trauma and self hatred behind jokes, it takes him a while to fully realize that you’re broken. And what do you do with broken things? Why, stick them in a doll house and provide for them, of course!

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

New York High Rise {1}

Chapter summary; During all your years as the most successful mob boss of New York, no-one have ever dared to seriously battle for the crown with you. Up until now. Steven Grant Rogers, son of the infamous mob boss Joseph Rogers, has suddenly chosen you as his rival. Who will be winning in the end?

Pairing: Steve x reader  

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 1/5

Word; 5.9k

Warnings; swearing is standard in my works, mentions of canon-type violence 

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I actually started this series on a whim and all of a sudden ended up having four chapters. I really love it for some reason, maybe because it such a powerplay and I’m a hoe for that trope, especially when it’s a enemies to lovers story. Anyhow, enough of my rambling, I hope you guys enjoy this little mid week update! PSA: If you want to be tagged in the series, jus send me an ask!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Golden chains and champagne. Fancy watches and whiskey on the rocks. Whatever related to the word expensive you were associated with. Although, unlike many others in your business, you hadn't grown up in this world of luxury, nor had you inherited the empire you now were the boss of, enabling you to live the extravagance life you did. No, you were one of the few who'd worked their ass off to earn every last thing you owned.

By most, your efforts looked like a great business mind and some luck. How else could you've become a multi-millionaire on investing in stocks? But to others, those knowing the flipside of the coin, they knew your success in capitals was nothing but a cover for your stealthy work in the shadows. It was a dance, one with feline grace, that you'd performed to reach your position. A status meaning you were one of the most famous mob bosses in New York City.

When hearing mafia, most would think of the old Italian image of people smoking cigars in fedoras, with some moustache that looked similar to pencil lines on their upper lip. Those who owned cities and the whole country knew of it but could do nothing about it.

Perhaps some of these stereotypes suited the older godfathers of New York, who sat proudly on their pedestals and watched the world pass by. But you were different from them. You didn't just watch the world continue and progress by itself. You moved along with it.

You were the new generation.

Compared to the godfathers, who every last person in New York and the bordering states knew off, you had two faces. One you showed the public and one you ruled the underworld with. To society, you were spotless, a name associated with nothing but a sharp mind and benevolence to the public. But you were at the top in the underworld syndicate, the biggest of the biggest. Yet, you didn't rule with fear, simply that of uttermost respect and earned trust. In other words, your reputation or connections weren't bought. They were deserved.

Thus, compared to the older generations, your face could be recognised by a civilian or someone from the underworld, none thinking about calling the police or betraying your trust. You owned the city without it even knowing it.

It was from the way you'd reached this top in stunning silence, together with the grace you played everyone with, that you and your empire earned the alias felines. Like a tiger cub who grew into an adult, your empire was once the smallest but now the biggest. Like a lion, you evoke respect and awe no matter where you went. Like a cat no one cared about, you could cross the streets without an issue in public.

Some of the elders, at least those who were your allies, had expressed their concern of your brassiness. 'Why play cat and mouse with fate?' they often said. But you always answered the same 'I am the cat'. And it was true. Despite some of those opposed to your methods, or just you in general, took the chances they could at picking you off the map. No one ever succeeded. Solely for one reason.

Now, you deemed agreeing to one of your first ever business deals the best choice you ever made. Although it meant you financed some of the worlds leading underground tech corporation with quite some substantial coin, the panthers were nowadays always watching over you. They lingered in the shadows, disarming every try at putting a bullet through your skull.

Albeit not as famous as yourself or the organisation you ran, the Black Panther Operation the sibling pair T'Challa and Shuri operated was, in no shape or form, not impressive. They'd established themselves as the leading organisation, even if not known by half of the people in New York, in the tech area. Not only were they invaluable to the numerous politicians wanting them to work under the radar to get the upper hand on sovereign states, but they also were to you.

They hadn't only supplied you with their physical protection of their elite bodyguards, the Dora Milaje or in common-tongue known as the shadow panthers, but their tech as well. Although, compared to anyone who would've been in your position and chosen the weapons or impenetrable bodysuit that Shuri, ever the genius she was, had invented, you'd chosen one of the other assets. The cloud, the internet.

Hackers were the way forwards compared to warriors. They were the weapon of keeping you one step ahead of anyone by supplying you with the information needed to be able to hold someone's life in your hands.

It was only to look back at the countless occasions anyone tried to persuade you into a business deal you would do nothing but lose at. Thanks to Shuri having dug out the facts that could bring any of your rivals down in the dumps, you'd walked victorious away anyways.

You were certain any of the other godfathers would've killed someone for even thinking, no less trying, to propose a disreputable arrangement with them in the first place. Yet, you knew how much one ever could make a death look like a self-caused accident, that in the end, people would start to wonder why it happened to people of the same background, connected to one and the same empire. However, the former generations didn't really care about bad publicity anyway, so why would they care about lining the street with dead bodies? But the difference was you weren't them.

By all means, some would say your ways was far more torturous than a bullet between the eyes. You wouldn't agree or disagree, only say it was just. Involving a legal and judicial battle was the new way of handling conflicts, after all. It was more efficient than having to wash the blood of your name all the time, according to you. Not only that, you gained a lot more than just a dead body.

You were in somewhat of partnership with most bosses around the city. Those you weren't, rather those you'd only settled a deal with that said "as long as you kept to each of your own territory nothing would happen", did try to bend the rules and use the terror tacit. Either they targeted you personally or something equally as important in your part of the city. It could be anything that would get to you, really. But, no matter what they did, they tried to not do it themselves. Instead, hire a hitman or someone equally as bad. The problem with this was that these people's records were far from innocent, something you used to your advantage.

If you tasked Shuri to find anything and everything these people had done, it was easy to find a person they'd wronged and who sought revenge or justification. The only thing you did was play your hand well, usually meaning you pulled some strings and supply the money. While T'Challa, as the expert he was on it, handed out the information his sister had gathered to reliable sources. Your collaboration made the person you hunted sit opposite someone from their past in a courtroom. Most of the times, they also lost the case.

Choosing to do this rather than go rampage and fire your gun aimlessly meant you settled as a second, or sometimes even third or four-hand source to what went down. So not only did your name remain clear despite answering a rivals offence, your involvement was nearly impossible to track as well. Thus, you could take down five of a rivals' men while they only took one of yours.

Despite one could call you out on hypocrisy, saying that the shadow panthers protecting you didn't own the same benevolence and were quick and silent in their killing, there was one reason you didn't care about the fact. Currently, they may be under a shared command, but their never-ending allegiance was always towards the founders of the Black Panther Operation. If either Shuri or T'Challa said stand back or decided to cut their deal with you, the shadow panther's protection would disappear. The same went if you chose to rip the contract.

However, it was a slim chance that either of the siblings or you would terminate your arrangement. Seeing how now, years later, you still were the sole person working a continuous agreement with them. That was why nowadays, your and theirs organisations were nearly associated as the same by most in the underworld.

Your style of ruling New York and living such different lives in the light and dark made others in your profession joke you were the sole one with an ordinary life. That you were no traditional mafia, simply a highly functioning business-orientated company that invested in stocks. However, both you and everyone around you knew that wasn't true. The reason? You weren't afraid to use every last of your assets to remain in control of your empire. Whatever it took.

And that was a promise someone the last months had put up to the test.

You don't know what set it off, perhaps the old saying of cats and dogs never working well together. Or that because you were at the top drew enough confidence out of someone to try and knock you down. For whatever reason, someone decided to start a ruckus with you.

It had begun small enough you had no idea that someone was behind it. Connections or deals with companies connected to your empire backing out of contracts in the last seconds, saying they got a better offer. The word secrecy, frequently used for ones own safety in the world you lived in, was a term you'd heard enough times by now to grow tired of. It was no significant agreements, seeing how you were well enough to not care about money, but it was plenty bothersome for your pride.

The next step in the escalation had been dealings slightly more important than a question of money, which was your territory and thereby also safety. You still had some meetings with a few godfathers, had fore some time actually. It was mostly those who once had opposed you in the days you weren't a threat or those who just tried to live secludedly enough that they died by natural causes rather than in a cell or from rivalry.

Each of those conferences had been about securing your grip on Manhattan. Primarily to obtain some neighbourhoods closest to Harlem Park and the northern part of the Inwood neighbourhood. Both of which currently was in some sort of grey zone. Meaning neither owned by them nor you. Although those areas were still not written as yours, concerning how those old bosses abruptly didn't seem to want to seal any deals that they weeks ago had agreed on.

Then you'd entered the third stage. The one that made you understand all these cancellations wasn't merely coincidence, but somebody working against you. People from both your closest crew and the Black Panther section had been disappearing. It wasn't uncommon. Your business was nothing but personal feelings and wants most of the times. However, concerning how few men and women you'd lost under your watch, this sudden increase was off-putting.

Closer to the truth was something like this had never happened to this extent before. You hadn't had people close to you or anyone associated with you abducted. However, the worst thing was that the bodies of those disappearing were never not found bloody or in a morgue.

Money or failing to persuade old godfathers wasn't something you took personal, but when people started dropping like flies around you, that you took personally. Hence, you, Shuri and T'Challa worked endlessly on finding who was behind it.

Almost every time, you found the culprit of the act, but not the big boss behind it all. Disabling you from taking more than one person out of play. That your jaw hadn't broken for how much you'd clenched it in frustration, or your teeth shattered from the amount you gritted them was a mystery. You hunted the person ordering these things, yet with no success.

Although one day, when one of the subordinates in your very own team had been missing for a week returned, barely clinging to their consciousness, you'd gotten to know who this new rival of yours was.

Steven Grant Rogers.

The canines, an alias for the Rogers family, were equally known as any of the old US President in the underworld in New York. If one hadn't heard of them in your profession, it was more likely that you already were dead or not in it all because they were notorious.

They'd ruled Brooklyn with an iron fist and was probably the crown specimen of the reputation that accompanied the word mafia. There was a grace in their affairs and killing. But compared to your work, which was performed in shadows and silence, they flaunted it, not scared of running from the police because they already knew they never would be caught.

From what you knew, they'd fallen off somewhat after Joseph Rogers, the head of the Canine Empire, died in one of the rivalries between mobs. His death had been years before you were even born, close to an age it was as high of a chance he could've passed from natural causes. Still, the commotion and continuous dispute following his disappearance and the unclear leadership had served as a fall for the Canine Empire. There was no doubt your rise to the same amount of power as the former union possessed would've been as easy if you'd had them as your opponents.

However, now, it seemed like the past would haunt you down in the form of Joseph Rogers son.

Albeit you never met the new boss of the Canines, there was no doubt you considered, for the first time, to personally put a bullet through someone's head. Steven Grant Rogers was as ruthless as stories told his father had been. He'd even been labelled the golden boy of Brooklyn, rumoured to restore the brutal power of the Canine Empire. Yet, the spot he was reaching for with old alliances regrouping to boost him to the top was a position you currently occupied.

This is where the difference between if you'd had a regular business organisation and the domain you now did, settled in. You went on total offense.

You contacted T'Challa and Shuri, calling them in for a meeting. Even though the pair knew of what had happened so far, they were your partners and thus, you would discuss the actions you would take with them, even if your deal said nothing of that sort. But you knew, compared to your rival, it seemed, how important it was to hold onto your closest allies with other methods than fear and the threat of death. And thus, you also received the help of a friend rather than a business partner.

It must've been the bloodiest month in the last decade from the rivalry that blossomed up between the Felines and Canines the second you started to answer the new top dog's advances. You got reports that the shadow panthers watching your back had cleared more people putting you up as a target than in a long time. As well, did more of the people under your name end up red in back allies.

Then it shifted. As soon as you started getting trails of more people than just the executioners, you were suddenly able to take out divisions of his minions. And while the killing went on, you started winning the big battles. In other words, while Steven continued to play it hard, you started to play smart.

You cut off deals he could do in Brooklyn, much harsher and unforgiving than his initials ones on your side of the East River. It was everything from supplies, to money, to the extra set of eyes. Everything to limit him to sources you knew he wouldn't be happy with having to resort to. While handling this, with the help from Shuri, you also broadened your search to find every little dirty-worker under the mob boss's command. Thanks to those now operating for you on the Brooklyn side, you helped people who'd had a past with Steven's men tip police of and capture them.

Pawn by pawn, you lessened the number of ways the Canine boss could run in taking down your empire. You had him cornered, already several moves ahead of him whatever he chose to do. Only, it was one step you thought he never would do that, in the end, made everything come to a skidding halt.

He'd requested a parley.

"Y'know I don't really like the idea of you meeting him", you didn't look up from the papers you currently were reading to look at Shuri where she lounged on your office's couch.

Though it felt like you should examine the folder that rested in your handbag     -the one containing the event plans for the charity event you would host for the many high society individuals and governors, or anyone with money really, in two weeks- those documents weren't the ones you were looking through now.

It was five days ago since Steven had asked for the parlay. Ever since then, you'd worked on the deal you would offer him. You had no desire to sign whatever he would hand to you. And you knew he would propose something. The Canine boss was the challenger, after all. Even more so, the one requesting a meeting from the start. Thus, he, for one, would offer something to cease your continuous confrontations and two, he would try to drag you down while elevating himself. That you couldn't have.

"I know", you finally responded when having read the side you were on in the contract you had put together for your rival. "Still, I want to hear what the man has to say so I can stop losing resources, time and people", you turned to the next page as you said this.

There came no response immediately despite that you felt Shuri was looking at you. You'd gotten good at noticing this, someone observing you. Hence, even though the best of the panthers always were safeguarding you somewhere in the crowds, it never hurt to not solely depend on others for your own safety. Because that was what your constantly high attentiveness was for anyways. To always be keen on your surroundings and try to detect someone's move before they did it.

"It's almost interesting to see someone challenge you for the position of being the big boss, Lekati", it wasn't only at the reserved nickname Shuri used that caught your attention. The rest of what she'd said also made you pause mid-turn of the last page, eyes automatically shifting to her.

Now, instead of sprawling across the piece of furniture the women occupied, she sat upright with a smile ghosting her lips. Your eyes narrowed as you noted this.

"Oh, stop imagining using your sharp claws on me".

"I wasn't".

"You're a bad liar when you want to be", the tech mogul pointed out with a finger directed towards you. Your features stayed indifferent despite the fact that her remark had been correct.

"When will your brother be back?" The dark-haired women cocked a brow at your sudden change of topic.

"Any minute, I suppose, why?"

"He's more pleasant to have around while I try to work, less chatty", an incredulous snort left Shuri as she crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch's backside. Her reaction made your stoic facade drop somewhat, causing the side of your mouth to tug upwards. It was an act she caught and couldn't help but shake her head at.

"I never get tired of not knowing whether you're about to send half of the city after me or simply are in a playing mood", your repressed smile bloomed into a fully-fledged one, amused by Shuri's comment.

"Opt for the latter for as long as those couple of hundred thousand dollars are rolling into your account". Averting your eyes from the women you were speaking to, you once again inspected the bunch of papers before you. 

Having worked on them for days and ever since this morning re-reading the contract, you knew it was worded to perfection. There were no loopholes nor any unnecessary losses for either part. So, for as long as Steven didn't belong to the old saying of 'it’s hard to learn an old dog to sit', you knew his signature would decorate the last page. 

"However, you should worry about the day when the money is missing", you hummed while stacking the papers orderly, putting them back into the same folder they'd been stored since you'd gotten the paper copies of the transcript.

"Would that be my sign to start running?" You looked up again, instantly meeting Shuri's humoured look.

"It would probably be too late", you shrugged nonchalantly, placing the folder you would have to the meeting in your handbag in a swift motion while swivelling your chair to face her, rather than your desk as you'd done previously. As a chuckle was heard from the dark-haired woman, you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat.

"It's good that I'm your ally and not your foe".

"Good to hear you view yourself as a friend. Was fearing you would switch sides to my challenger's", you mused, arms coming to prop up against your armrest to support your head when you tilted it.

"I never would, even if I knew he had a chance to win", even though feeling somewhat relieved - because this world and one's alliances could change fast, no matter current contracts or friendships- when Shuri said this, you wouldn't show it. Therefore, instead of smiling at her belief that Steven had no chance of beating you at a game you had been the best player at for years, you simply kept observing the woman as she stood from the couch.

The young tech mogul started to make her way closer to you, a slight sheerness in her step that impersonated the glint in her eye. And you understood why for when she opened her mouth to speak.

"But you can't deny it's interesting someone is seriously trying to take you down", you rolled your eyes while you let your hand fall to tap against your thigh.

"Seems like you're more excited about it than me", you started, spinning your chair slowly to follow Shuri as she settled partly on the empty edge of your desk. She looked expectantly at you, waiting for an answer despite your deflection of it initially. For once, purely because of the topic, you complied. "But no, I definitely do not find it interesting", you sighed out.

"Oh, come on, Lekati...".

"Stop with the nickname", you cut her off with a roll of your eyes. However, instead of earning the quick nod of confirmation to follow your exasperated order, the dark-haired women grinned. Perhaps if it was anyone else than Shuri, you would've been irritated and sent them out of your office, but concerning you viewed her more as a friend than a simple job partner, you did neither when her teasing continued.

"Has the dog really gotten that much under your skin?" She chuckled. "Must be the first one... ever. Or correct me if I'm wrong?" You simply dropped your head and shook it. The young women were right and she knew she was. Steven was the sole one able to make you nearly lose your footing ever since claiming the crown of the underworld.

"Why couldn't he just stay put?" You mumbled under your breath, thumb smoothing out the wrinkles having settled between your brows. "We'd never heard of him before. Why decide to make himself known now all of a sudden? After years of silence?"

"Some men seek the satisfaction of bringing entities down, especially if they ruled it before and now it's overtaken by a woman", you looked up at Shuri. But instead of meeting her gaze, your eyes fell to the piece of paper she held up. Evidently, she'd plucked your Cartier pen and a sticky note from the stack always resting on your desk and written three letters on the piece of paper while you spoke. You, it stood on it.

"Thank you for the flattery", you replied, reaching forward to snatch the note from her. "But I would've prefered if Rogers hadn't, would spare me the task of crushing his ego", the brown-eyed women chuckled at that.

"Maybe he needs to take yours down a step or two too", you stood from your chair as she said this, dropping the slightly crumpled note you'd taken from her into the bin under your desk, then starting to head towards the mirror you had in your office.

"I don't have an ego. I simply know my self-worth".

"Sounds a lot like you're bordering on narcissism", she said in a sing-song voice. "Maybe you and his pride can go on a date. I bet they would rule New York happily ever after", you couldn't suppress a chuckle at Shuri's words, whether you wanted to show how absolutely hilariously unbelievable it was or not.

"Can't your brother come and save me from your antics?" You muttered, spotting the smile the genius behind you sported in the mirror. It was meant for her to hear, so you weren't shocked when she responded to the banter.

"I actually prefer his absence. The two of you together nearly drown me in the seriousness", Shuri complained dramatically. You amusedly rolled your eyes before settling to look at your chosen attire.

Compared to how far away you stood from tradition in the godfather's senses, it was one custom you fulfilled like the rest of them. You believed that the clothes made the man. And, for a meeting like the one you soon would go to, you didn't hesitate to strive for that effect.

You knew Steven was old fashioned. Everything he did cried it. So, of course, you would try to throw him off at every point you could. The skirt and dress were switched out for a suit, midnight black. It was a loose fit and probably matched the high-end fashion more than traditional meeting standards, but you didn't genuinely worry. You were here to show you are the new generation and wouldn't budge because you were the sole women in New York running a syndicate. Doing the best job at it as well.

However, if the man you would meet would frown upon women in a suit, the lace bodysuit, black as well, you wore instead of a dress shirt would probably give him a heart attack. It covered enough but were in no way domesticated and left the upper part of your chest bare. It was a great way to show off the two thin chains of gold decorating your neck.

For some reason, your eyes lingered on the golden metal shining from the light trickling into your office. You started to fiddle with the necklace then, concentrating on how they weren't cold but rather heated up from your body temperature.

You became lost in your own world, fingers splaying over the hollow in your throat to absentmindedly play with the chains there while you thought about the meeting that was rapidly coming closer.

The action, together with the far-away look you stared at your movement in the mirror, was something that caught Shuri's attention.

"Relax", instantly your eyes flickered up to watch her in the mirror's reflective surface as if snapped from a daze. She'd shifted, so she now sat on the front of your desk, head turned in your direction. "It'll go good".

"Wasn't it you who said that you didn't want me to meet him in the first place?" You began to challenge her words of reassurance, hand falling from your skin to instead hang by your side. Not until you'd turned and cocked your brow at her did you continue. "That must insinuate you don't think it will go good", she simply shrugged when you said this.

"I did say I don't like his sudden call for a conference and that you accepted it in the first place", she began, crossing her feet at the ankle and looking down at the movement momentarily before her gaze found yours once more. "But that doesn't mean I don't think it will go good. I know it will. You're good at your job", you smiled at that. You already knew that you worked great under pressure, or else you wouldn't be standing on top of the empire you ruled. Although, it was always comforting to hear it from someone else.

Fittingly, in the next second, a knock on your door echoed in the room, effectively putting an end to your previous conversation with the women perched on your desk.

"Enter", you called without hesitating, as soon as both your and Shuri's attention also turned to the entrance. The guard stationed outside of your room didn't need to inform you of who'd wanted to enter. You already knew it was T'Challa. And as the guard opened the heavy door to your office and held it open for whoever had requested it, indeed it was Shuri's brother stepping through the doorway.

You didn't more than slightly tip your head to acknowledge the guard's nod of respect your way before he closed the door. Primarily because you spotted the slate grey folder the older of the children of T'Chaka held. It was the call about the seemingly insignificant object being completed that had interrupted the earlier discussion you, Shuri and T'Challa had. Your assemblage hadn't been much more than some minor last discussions and to wait for the folder the man now walking through the room held. Thus the portfolio contained a report, the ultimate attempt of finding anything that could aid you in the meeting with Steven.

"Anything good?" You skipped the unnecessary greetings as you gestured to the portfolio in T'Challa's hand while walking closer to your desk, which also was where he was heading.

"Look for yourself", when he said this, the brown-eyed mad held out the folder for you to take. You did but didn't open it until you'd rounded the counter and sat down in your chair again.

You didn't know what you'd expected to meet you, but a photo and a single sheet of paper weren't it.

For a moment, you stared at the picture resting on top of the report underneath it. Presumably, it should've been a photo of Steven sitting in some club. Although it was blurry and had no great exposure, which made it impossible to tell much about his appearance. Still, you knew it was him or else the picture wouldn't be here. However, it did nothing to help you paint a picture of the man which name so far seemed to be faceless.

Putting the picture to the side, you quickly started to eye the document. You scanned it, finding it contained random facts citing what properties the Canine boss had invested in, even owned. Apparently, Steven managed several clubs, which would explain why his first suggestion of a meeting place had been just that. Other than that, he owned some other businesses that wasn't much to cheer for. All infected by alcohol and drugs by the looks and names. Classical.

"This all?" You finally questioned after turning the sheet over, finding the backside blank. When glancing up, you saw T'Challa nodding. You clenched your jaw and looked back down at the paper.

Ever since Steven had asked for an official meeting, between your eyes only, as his message had been clear to state, you'd requested for the siblings to find out whatever they could about him. You wanted the advantage you knew he couldn't get over you. Thus, what was publicly known of you wasn't anything to hide. And frankly, he was more than welcome to read the articles that had written things about you. Yet, every secret of yours, or anything you'd deemed unfitting for anyone to know, had been wiped. No one could ever find something about you that you didn't want on the internet. Though, it seemed you weren't the only one sitting on resources like that.

Albeit the "new mob boss" was discussed in several articles, Steven's name had no face in any of them. In general, there was no picture of him or much information to track him down by either. So, despite your best efforts, now it seemed you didn't have much more than your hunch to go on during the meeting.

"I do not think it's wise to meet him", T'Challa said, much like his sister had earlier. With a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, fingers releasing the paper you'd gripped to pinch the bridge of your nose instead.

"Neither of you wants me to meet him, do you?" At first, silence met you, which made you look up the sibling pair. They shared a glance before Shuri turned slightly to look at you and her brother crossed his arms.

"No", they said simultaneously, which made you huff.

"I may like it as little as you two, but it put a temporary pause to the conflict. And if he comes to accept my terms, maybe that will remain".

"And what if he doesn't?" T'Challa inquired, receiving a frown from his sister, while you simply tilted your head down to look at your watch. "What if he refuses to tuck tail?" He continued to push.

"He won't", you stated, rising up from your chair, handbag now in your grip. It was three minutes until your driver would be here, so you needed to start heading down to the spot he would pick you up in. Yet, you were stopped in your tracks by a hand gripping your upper arm lightly.

"But what if?"

"T'Challa!" Shuri hissed at the unrespectful way her brother insisted on having his questions answered. She'd shot up from where she up until now had remained seated but before she could drag the man staring down at you with insistent eyes away, your raised the hand of your free arm. It stopped the younger women's movement, merely making her watch you and T'Challa.

There was a reason the siblings were able to run their tech operation as smoothly as they did. They complemented each other. What one lacked, the other possessed. For example, Shuri may own the belief everything was possible, then naturally, her brother would be more cautious. As in this instance. Hence, you didn't take any great offence to the dark-haired man's action, despite that your aloof tone could imply such a thing.

"What if he doesn't accept my deal after having me listen to whatever godawful settlement he offers me? Then I've kept my promise on meeting him for the parley he requested and one, which in the end, unfortunately, didn't establish an accord. Henceforth, our war will continue", you said, instantly feeling how T'Challa's hand fell from holding you back. Yet, you didn't pursue your track to the pick up you already was late for. Not until you assured him of one last thing. 

"Let me remind you that he was the one that asked me for a meeting, not the other way around. He asked me for a temporary truce and a chance to negotiate. In the end, that shows who's the most desperate to settle an agreement, no matter the terms".

Translation:

Lekati = Kitten

[arteyhumano299]

You Keep Me Waitin’

Chapter 1: Feel Better (9k words)

Summary: Kagami and Marinette aren't that close— they’re friendship is relatively new and there's still some unresolved tension. Kagami has just experienced heart break for the first time, and her mother’s expectations are beginning to weigh on her. Marinette’s duties are doing a similar number on her, and painful realizations have also left her heartbroken. They realize they can use each other as an excuse to flee from their troubling lives. In each other they find unexpected comfort, and soon they're closer than either could have expected.

Available on Ao3 , fanfic.net , and Wattpad

Notes:

First fanfic I'm publishing in a while. So I made the creative decisions to make the characters slightly older, around 17,16 ish. It's just cause it makes me uncomfortable to write sexual tension between 14-15 year olds. Also, this fic takes place right after the break ups so like season 4, ep 2. I can't promise consistent updating schedule but I'm committing to this fic. This first chapter is pretty long, I don't have a set words per chapter limit so the chapters might be all over the place. Anyway. Enjoy :)

Kagami feels hollow. She felt hollow as she closed the door of the locker room. She felt hollow as she walked out of Françoise Dupont. She felt hollow as she made her way down the stone steps at the entrance of the collège. The sound of her shoes making contact with the ground made Kagami feel especially hollow —the only sound that rang in her ears. Said shoes carried her to Tatsu's red door. Eyes found the car’s window, Kagami grimaced at her own reflection.

She clutched Tatsu’s handle and swung the backseat door open, hoping to flee from her own eyes. Her head hung low, eyes on her lap, as she closed the door. Slowly, she lifted her head to face the window and the collège’s front gates. She took a deep breath before turning her eyes forward. “Take me home, Tatsu.”

The collège disappeared as Tatsu moved forward. Kagami exhaled. Her hands found their way into her fencing bag and she slowly retrieved her phone from the bundle of clothes and protein bars. She steeled herself as her phone lit up. The screen read 6:09 against a familiar picture Kagami had taken that day at the San Martin Canal. They were seated at the canal’s edge, Adrien’s chin smudged with ice cream and Kagami smiling giddily at having caught this momentary clumsiness. Adrien, oblivious to the desert decorating his face, grinning at the camera and leaning close to her. She pursed her lips as she felt a pang to her chest, and opened settings with a decisive press of the home button. Their twin smiles disappeared from her lock screen, replaced with an old picture of the Eiffel Tower— one she had taken when she’d first arrived in Paris. She’d grown accustomed to it by now, but the large monument had seemed so mystical when she first saw it.

A sense of exhaustion came over her and she let her neck fall backwards. Head falling on the seat’s headrest, the car’s ceiling filled her vision.

Had this been a mistake?

Kagami had always been rational. Her mother valued logic above all, putting her stakes only in what she could hope to benefit from. Mother had taught this principle to Kagami at an early age, and Kagami had taken it to heart. She put a lot of effort into her passions, assured that her work would pay off. She took her future seriously, recognizing that it would reflect all of her present decisions. She didn’t goof off or blow off responsibilities. She did her best to control her sometimes reckless personality. She wasn’t disobedient. And she certainly didn’t waste her time in mindless relationship games. But here she was now. Kagami had gone about dating Adrien the way she did most things: straight to the point, and with a set goal in mind. She had been decisive, and she wasted no time dancing around her feelings, thinking that it would pay off, like all other things had in her life. Sitting alone in a car, heartbroken, had not been the outcome she predicted. Could she have miscalculated?

Somewhere inside herself, she understood that she had been very clear about her feelings, and had worked hard to maintain their relationship– at times, even foolishly bended some of her values just to get closer to him. Adrien had been the one to lie, and had always been more apprehensive with his affection, like he was holding back and holding on at the same time. Right now though, Kagami doubted herself. She’d never been the type to, but maybe while she was blinded by her affections for Adrien, she’d lost herself.

Her mother would be disappointed. Kagami hadn’t exactly told her of their relationship, and thinking of the times she did stuff she would disapprove of just to spend time with Adrien, Kagami wasn’t sure if she wanted to. God.

Kagami had been so eager to get closer to Adrien, and latched on as soon as Adrien began to reciprocate her stares, she had acted foolishly hadn’t she?

Her eyes eventually found the window again, but she regretted it as soon as her eyes laid on the glossy dark waters of the San Martin Canal. She saw the green leaves of trees painted on the water’s surface.

Something coiled in her chest.

“Tatsu, stop.”

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Kagami pushed the car door open and exited onto the aligned stone slabs of the sidewalk. The door closed behind her, body facing the canal. A breeze swept Kagami’s bangs out of her face, drying the prickle of tears at the edge of her eyes. She walked closer to the canal and peered at her figure reflected on the water, her hands bunched in her skirt. The water was too far away for any of her features to be distinguishable but she stared at her reflection– her head of dark hair a blob dancing on the canal’s ripples. Her fists slowly unclenched and she lowered herself to the canal’s edge.

As her eyes followed the ripple of the water, Kagami wondered if getting overly self conscious about this break up was what was irrational. Obviously most relationships ended, and she couldn't expect her first lover to be her last. A memory of telling ladybug her and Adrien were meant to be crossed Kagami’s mind. She grimaced, cringing at the memory. Kagami had said it with bold certainty, confident that there was something special between them–an understanding she’d never experienced with anyone else. She hoped that maybe… that would be the case, once Adrien was ready he would apologize and realize what she had long ago. He didn’t trust her now though, so what assured her he ever would. Maybe the wound was too fresh to wonder about the future.

Kagami closed her eyes and felt another gust of wind flutter against her eyelids. She stood back up and began to walk along the canal.

As she walked further and further from Tatsu, she began to realize another issue. Was she going to ignore Adrien? She had told him she didn’t want to stay friends. Adrien’s distrust had stung her deeply– she had, after all, put a lot of energy and time into their relationship, and just returning to their old dynamic felt wrong. Were they just supposed to not acknowledge any of the remaining tension?

Adrien hiding stuff from her would sting regardless of their relationship, she cared very deeply for him– friend or lover. Kagami had to remind herself: don’t waste time and energy on fruitless efforts. If Adrien wasn’t gonna let up, Kagami would stop giving him the time of day. The opportunity to hurt her. She felt justified in her harshness, though Adrien was one of the only friends she’d ever had. Kagami began to wonder if any of this would seem ridiculous to someone more understanding and emotionally intelligent– Kagami admitted she felt short in that regard.

She admittedly was too caught up thinking of ways to figure this out to pay much attention to her surroundings. Mid thought, something slammed into her, or rather she slammed into someone. Kagami stumbled backwards, almost losing her footing but catching herself at the last minute. As soon as she regained her balance she looked up at the offended party to apologize. She was met with a familiar pair of blue bell eyes. Before she could muster up a ‘sorry’, Marinette beat her to it.

“Kagami! I’m so sorry! I was distracted and wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Her face was somewhat obstructed by boxes stacked on her arms- which she noticed were now off center.

“I’m sorry too, Marinette; I was also distracted.”

Marinette readjusted the boxes. “No, it was probably more on me. My limbs seem to have a mind of their own, a lot of people have fallen victim to my clumsiness.” Marinette’s face scrunched embarrassment.

“Well you are the one carrying boxes, I just bypassed pedestrian etiquette in my mindless daydreaming.”

Kagami could make out Marinette’s smile even with the obstruction to her face.

“That’s just like you to think getting distracted is a lapse of ‘pedestrian etiquette’.” She chuckled at Marinette’s phrasing of ‘pedestrian etiquette’. Marinette’s eyes peered at her quizzically.

“Are you alone, Kagami?”

“I am.”

That seemed to confuse Marinette as she looked around Kagami.

“I don’t mean to pry, but why are you walking down the San Martin Canal?”

Kagami looked back to the canal’s waters.

“I suppose...”, She tried to find an excuse as she faced Marinette again, " I thought the walk would be some nice, light exercise.” Marinette raised an eyebrow at her.

“Right after fencing? Shouldn’t you be having a meal?”

She was surprised that Marinette had any knowledge in the dietary guidelines of athletes. She’d never mentioned partaking in any active hobby to Kagami.

“I was just trying it out. ''

Marinette still seemed confused but shrugged and didn’t press further. Kagami’s eyes shifted to the boxes Marinette was still carrying.

“And you? Is there a reason you’re walking down a canal with an armful of boxes?”

Marinette seemed to remember what she was holding as her eyes flickered to the packages in front of her.

“Oh, right. I’m just making a delivery for the bakery.”

Kagami was now the one to question her with a raised eyebrow.

“On foot? With that tall of a stack?”

Her expression turned sheepish. “Bad idea in retrospect, considering my clumsiness and all.”

Kagami couldn’t help but smile. “What if I help you?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “With my delivery?”

Kagami nodded.

“What about your light exercise?”

“Whether it be going home or making a delivery I’m still walking.”

Marinette’s cheeks pinked. “Oh, uh, guess you’re right.”

She approached Marinette and reached for the top couple of boxes, taking them into her arms and waiting for Marinette to readjust her arms again.

“Okay, it’s only two blocks from here.”

Marinette began to walk and Kagami moved to follow her pace.

“Do you often make deliveries for your parents’ bakery?”

“When they need to be done yeah; it’s my way of helping out.”

Kagami looked at her profile, her pigtails more hastily tied than usual and her cheeks a paler pink than she was used to.

“Have they been keeping you busy?”

“Ah, no more than usual.”

Marinette met her eyes momentarily and Kagami wondered if those were eyebags under her eyes.

“They try not to be too demanding.”

“Really?... Have you been testing lately?”

She saw Marinette turn to her and could almost feel her puzzlement.

“Uh, no?...”

Marinette faced the walkway again.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just haven’t heard from you lately.”

There was a pause.

“I’ve just been caught up in some stuff.”

Kagami sensed she didn’t want to elaborate so she kept her questions to herself.

“Well, It’s nice to see you, even in a somewhat odd situation.”

“I’m glad to see you too.”

Her smile became soft.

“I haven’t seen much of you either, but I understand you’ve also been… busy.”

The silence that followed hung for a second too long. Kagami wasn’t sure how she should interpret that— she’d never explicitly told Marinette about her and Adrien, but they hadn’t really hid their affection. “I…” Kagami sighed. “Yeah, I have been distracted with other… stuff.”

The silence continued and Kagami considered even noting the weather to fill it. Before she could stew in the silence any longer, Marinette cut through it with a boldness she wasn’t accustomed to seeing from her.

“How are things with Adrien?”

Kagami suddenly felt very insecure and the packages of pastries in her arms felt heavier.

“We weren’t very subtle were we?”

Marinette considered her question.

“You two have been getting pretty chummy for a while.”

“... I can see what you mean.”

“You know, it’s okay. I just really hope you don’t drop me, so you guys better not stop hanging out with me.”

Marinette’s attempt at lightening the mood was stunted by the tension. Kagami was too preoccupied with finding the right response to care.

“Well, of course, I wouldn’t abandon our relationship for Adrien.”

Kagami was too consumed in her nerves to notice the change in tone of Marinette’s silence.

“You don’t have to worry about my schedule being full though.”

Marinette laughed.

“Kagami, it’s natural for couples to spend a lot of time together, you don’t have to make time you don’t have for me. Don’t worry, I have other people I can get orange juice with.” She swallowed.

“I don’t doubt you do.”

They approached a crossroad and Marinette turned, Kagami following after her. She let it out before she decided against it.

“What I meant to say, is that you don’t have to worry about my schedule being full anymore.”

Marinette stopped abruptly but Kagami expected it. Her expression was hard to decipher.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that”, Kagami stepped closer to her. “Adrien’s no longer going to be taking up my time.”

Marinette’s eyebrows slowly furrowed, she searched her face and Kagami hoped Marinette couldn’t make out her insecurity.

“You…”

“We did.”

She faced forward once again. “It’s been the case for all of a half an hour.”

“Oh, God, Kagami, I’m so sorry.”

Kagami turned to shoot her a frown. Marinette shut her mouth before she could begin her rambling. She might not be feeling like herself but she still wasn’t below taking her pity.

“Obviously I’m still processing but quite honestly, the break up actually happened last night.”

“Oh.”

“I won’t need to see him until our next fencing lesson so I’ll have time to figure something out.”

They finally continued to walk.

“I mean, I bet Adrien will make an effort to keep things friendly.”

“That’s exactly what I fear.”

“What do you mean?”

Kagami kept her eyes forward. “I’m not planning on keeping our relationship as friendly as it was before.”

She hoped she didn’t sound bitter.

“That bad, huh?”

“Adrien made his decisions so I made mine.”

Kagami definitely sounded bitter.

“Well, then I guess you should start making time for another juice date.”

Marinette’s smile felt reassuring. She slowed down and stopped in front of a pair of glass doors. Kagami could make out a lobby from the large windows on either side.

“We’re here by the way.”

Kagami went ahead and opened one of the doors, holding it for Marinette who had the taller stack of boxes. Marinette allowed her act of chivalry and entered, Kagami following behind her. She looked around the lobby as Marinette advanced to the front desk, eyeing the cushions taking up most of the room, and wondering who had thought buying several loveseats for such a small lobby was a good idea. Marinette returned before Kagami could criticize the internal design further.

“Okay, we should be able to just go up and knock on the door.”

They made their way to the elevator and Marinette pressed the button to the fourth floor. They stood in silence for a few seconds.

“It wasn’t just me that noticed the disgusting orange loveseats was it?” Kagami smirked “I also noticed their incompatibility with the room, though I was more worried with the amount of floor plan they took up.” Marinette scoffed, “More like incompatibility with my eyes.”

This time Kagami actually laughed. The elevator doors opened and they made their way into a hallway lined with numbered doors.

“Okay, I think it was apartment 127.”

They scanned the doors until finding it: apartment 127. Kagami knocked and they waited for an answer. Kagami could hear the muted sound of rock music and laughter. Finally, the door’s handle shook and the door swung open. A short woman with brown hair dyed red stood at the entrance, her eyes taking them and their armful of boxes in.

“Oh, the pastries are here!” The woman pushed the door open further, and turned her head to the apartment.

“Arthur! Come help me with the pastries.” The woman turned back to them “Sorry, lovelies, I’ll get those off ya in a sec.” A man poked his head before joining the four of them at the entrance. He was significantly taller than the woman but had the same red hair.

“Those smell good”, he grinned.

“I can assure they taste just as good”, Marinette responded, sugar sweet, in what Kagami guessed was her customer service voice. The woman and man reached out and took the boxes from them and Kagami was glad to have the weight off her arms. She stretched them out as the woman looked through her wallet and placed some bills in Marinette’s hands. “Thank you, have a nice day, ma’am.”

“Have a nice day too, ladies.”

Marinette smiled at them as they closed the door. Then she also stretched her arms with a sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”

They entered the elevator, returned to the lobby, and then exited the apartment complex.

Marinette turned to her. “Thank you so much, Kagami, people don’t tend to order so much so it was probably for the best I ran into you.”

“It wasn’t a bother,” she could feel the smile on her lips, “It was also nice to catch up with you.”

Marinette grinned at her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at another time. You should probably call Tatsu, you’ve had enough exercise for today.”

“Oh, are you my trainer, Marinette?”

“I’m your friend, so I’m more important.”

Kagami couldn’t argue with that. An idea popped into her brain and she pursed her lips.

“Let me walk you home, Marinette.”

Marinette blinked at her.

“Walk me home?”

“Yes.” She nodded awkwardly, “Walk you home.”

“Shouldn't you be home by now?”

That made Kagami pause— it was true her mother would figure out her absence pretty soon.

“It’s fine, I’ll just text my mother.”

“But you must be tired, I really wasn’t kidding about the exercise thing.”

Kagami disliked when people coddled her, but Marinette’s worry did actually make her feel cared for.

“I’ll be fine, Marinette, I always make sure to carry extra protein bars in my bag.”

Kagami paused and furrowed her brows. “That is unless you’d rather walk home alone, I’m sorry if my request was brash.”

Marinette shook her hands. “No, no, I just didn’t want you to over exert yourself. I know you always give it your all at your fencing practices.”

While Kagami had had a tiring day, Marinette’s company has helped both the ache of her muscles and her chest.

“I’m not that tired, besides,” Kagami moved to stand beside her, “we haven’t talked about our juice date.” She was rewarded with a bright smile.

“Okay, fine, if you’re sure.” Marinette began to walk and Kagami was right beside her.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to ask you where in the world you found a red lamé?”

“Well, Marinette, I pride myself in my dedication.”

They fell into step with each other, letting the conversation flow naturally. As they made their way through the streets of Paris, Kagami listened intently to Marinette’s rambling about old fabric dyeing techniques she’d been looking into. They finally found their way to Marinette’s doorstep and they waved each other goodbye.

She was aware she might return home to a lecture, but as Kagami saw Marinette enter her home, she recognized she felt better.

--------

Marinette rested her back on a chimney, her eyes raking over the other rooftops, waiting for an unexpected attack to pop out of them at any second. Chat was similarly seated next to her, though he didn’t seem quite as on edge as Marinette felt.

Now that the duo had to worry about Shadow Moth, Marinette felt like she was on edge as soon as she transformed. Chat sensed her unease, and regularly attempted to ease her tension with a lighthearted joke. Marinette appreciated his efforts, but she also didn’t want to be distracted —just in case.

She drummed her fingers on her lap and wondered if maybe they should move to a higher vantage point. Maybe they should start making their patrols more active, circling the whole city instead of just moving to a few locations and watching. If there was going to be an akumatization tonight, Marinette hoped it would appear already. Now that she had a gaggle of kwamis to look after, Marinette’s responsibilities seemed to have doubled. She really couldn’t slack off in her schoolwork, or her duties as class rep, or her obligations to the bakery— she knew wedding season was coming up so her parents were going to really need her help. That wasn’t even mentioning all of the personal issues Marinette didn’t know how to tackle. She seemed to have been able to keep a low radar so far, but any second now her friends would figure out the earlier day’s events.

Marinette really didn’t want to think about Juleka’s reaction.

Marinette’s thrumming speed up.

Chat must have seen the anxious twitch of her fingers. “You know, it’s getting late, there probably won’t be any trouble tonight.”

Her eyes flickered to the blonde. “We haven’t checked the south-eastern side of the city.”

“I can go check on my way home.”

Marinette thought about protesting, but she could make out the worry etched onto the line of his eyebrows. His mop of hair caught her eye, messier than she was usd to— almost like it was drooping. She wondered if she wasn’t the only one having a hard time.

“You go to school so you should probably get home and rest.”

“You also go to school”, Marinette noted.

Chat’s replying chuckle felt empty.

“I’m not going to be sleeping anytime soon .” Marinette hoped it wasn’t defeat what she heard in his voice. She regarded his usually vibrant eyes, now dulled with an exhaustion Marinette could recognize.

“You too huh?”

Chat broke eye contact to look out at the Paris scenery. Marinette did the same, gazing at the endless darkness of the sky.

“It’s been a hard week.”

She could only hum in agreement.

Her suit protected her from the cold, but Marinette’s face felt icy in the night’s dropping temperature.

“Is it a personal problem?”

“Well, I think Shadow Moth has both of us on edge, but mostly yeah.”

Chat fiddled with the cuffs of his gloves. She’d always been a proponent of keeping everything private, only revealing what was necessary, but something about Chat’s frown bothered Marinette.

“I can listen.”

Chat’s head shot up, his expression one of surprise. Marinette tried to convey comfort through her own expression. “Really?”

“As long as you keep it vague. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

His responding smile was small, but Marinette was glad for it nonetheless.

“Well, um, okay.”

Marinette relaxed against the chimney and Chat changed his posture to face her more.

“I started seeing someone recently.”

Marinette’s eyes widened but she kept quiet.

“We were friends beforehand and I realized I liked her, so I thought it would be a good idea.” Chat exhaled. “I’m Chat Noir though, so we couldn’t keep it up.”

Understanding washed over her.

“She was pretty upset, and now… she told me she no longer wanted to have any type of relationship.”

Chat’s eyes stared at the ground(rooftop rather.) Marinette reached for him without thinking. Chat looked at the hand she placed on his shoulder, and then at her. His eyes told her he received the message:

I understand

She leaned in and hugged him. They sat like that for a few seconds, enjoying each other’s warmth, before they separated.

“I think you’re right. We should go home.”

Chat nodded and they both stood up, still facing each other.

“Chat… I know we can’t exactly hang out, but you’re my friend, so if you need anything...”

Chat nodded.

“Thank you, ladybug.”

They shared a smile before going their separate ways.

--------

Marinette was later than usual. The classroom’s tone felt different than yesterday, and Marinette read it immediately. She apologized and took her seat, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. She could feel Alya’s on her all hour though, but she kept her eyes forward. All of her attention was focused on Mme. Bustier, Marinette throwing herself into the coursework to try and ignore the impending questions. The scratch of graphite on paper worked as a background to Mme. Bustier’s voice, and it did a good job at keeping Marinette’s mind occupied with work.

So much so that Marinette almost didn’t hear the bell.

She stared through the paper in front of her, her fingers tightening around the pencil in her hand. She could feel more eyes on her now.

Recognizing that she could no longer ignore Alya, Marinette picked herself up from her hunched posture and turned to her. Like she predicted, Alya was looking right at her. She didn’t attempt to decode the emotions in the hazel of Alya’s eyes.

She stood up and Marinette knew to follow. Mylène, Rose, Alix, and Juleka were behind them as they made their way out of the classroom. Alya stopped next to a bench and sent Marinette a look, communicating to her that she should sit down. Marinette complied. She studied Alya’s face, and Marinette disliked that the tension in it looked more like worry than displeasure— Marinette didn’t want to lie to Alya when she was looking at her with concern. Alya sighed and she sat beside her, the other girls sitting around them. Marinette thrummed her fingers, waiting for Alya’s words.

She directed them at Alix though.

“Alix, would you like to tell Marinette what you told me?”

Alix met eyes with Marinette before facing Alya. “Recently I heard something from Mylène about Marinette.”

She blew a bubble with her bubblegum and it’s pop unsettled Marinette.

“I think she knows what I’m talking about.”

Marinette sighed before rubbing her arms self consciously. She looked around at their faces— they were waiting for her but Marinette didn’t know what to tell them. She remembered the walk she’d had with Kagami some days ago. Kagami had noticed her exhaustion so soon, she could only wonder how long it must have taken her best friend.

“Do you not want to tell us what happened?”

“Um, no, no, I just… It’s just complicated, I’m not sure I’m even done processing what happened.”

Alya placed a hand on her shoulder. They all understood.

“I, well. I’ll tell you.”

Marinette took a deep breath and tried to work out what parts she had to modify.

“You guys know I’ve had feelings for Adrien all year. For months I’ve had this giant crush on him.” He heard some hums of agreement.

“These past few months I’ve actually begun to talk to him, and for a while now we’ve been friends. Somewhere during that time, I started to get to know different sides of Adrien, and my feelings deepened. I began to think that maybe he could actually like me back. I felt like we were finally connecting... But I think I’ve slowly come to realize that Adrien doesn't think about me like that.” Marinette could hear her voice lowering so she coughed and looked up. “I had to come to terms that Adrien liked someone else, loved someone else.” She tried not to think about Kagami’s words.

“Luka, he was always so sweet. With Adrien, I felt like this spluttering blubbering mess.” She sighed. “No wonder he didn’t like me back, all of my clumsiness gets turned up to a hundred around him. Even once my stuttering calmed down somewhat as we became closer, I feel like a mess around him even now.”

Alya scoffed like she’d been the one to be insulted.

“Marinette, you’re so incredibly smart and clever. You’re also kind and you don’t hesitate to help others. If Adrien hasn’t realized that yet then that’s not your fault.” She tried not to think about how Adrien was all of those things, but more. Or how Kagami was also all of those things, but yet they still…

Marinette didn’t let herself dwell on it.

“That’s something Luka would have told me.”

Alya fell silent.

“Luka made me feel like I could just be. It was easy to talk to him, and when he told me he had feelings for me… I felt like maybe we could work.”

Her eyes flickered to Juleka, but her expression hadn’t changed much.

“My feelings for Adrien were hard to ignore though. I think Luka could tell.”

“I really did like Luka. I just, I feel like I got him caught up in my emotional mess and hurt him.”

Marinette stopped thrumming her fingers and dug them into the fabric of her pants. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I’ve been busy and I haven’t been able to reflect on the break up yet.” Marinette looked around all of them, their faces sympathetic.

Rose stood up and wrapped her arms around Marinette. She pulled back and Marinette could see tears rimming her eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize to us, Marinette.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’ve been having a rough time”, Mylène piped up.

Alya’s hand slid from her shoulder to her back. Marinette appreciated the act of comfort.

“Thank you guys, for being understanding. I just need some time.”

“Of course, Mari, just tell us if you need some hang out buddies to turn your brain off with.” Alix didn’t join them in their huddle around the bench, but her smile was softer than her usual smirk.

“Of course”, Marinette grinned, she could feel the mood lifting. “If any of you would like to get your butts kicked in Ultimate Mecha Strike III, you know who you can call.”

Rose and Mylène giggled, parting from Marinette so she could look up at them better. Marinette couldn’t tell them everything but she genuinely felt her mood lift.

The bell rang.

Marinette felt like now she could scratch that off her list of things to worry about.

She was about to stand up as the other girls smiled and made their way back when she turned to Alya. She was staring at her intensely, like she was analyzing Marinette.

“Uh, Alya? We should make our way back.”

Alya continued to stare at Marinette. Marinette swallowed and clutched the edge of the bench. Finally, Alya crossed her arms and stood up. She didn’t move to make their way back though.

“Alya, we’re going to be late.”

“You’re still hiding something.”

Marinette’s mouth shut. Alya just continued to bore holes through her.

“H-Hiding something?”

“Luka knew you were in love with Adrien since before. He would have been fine with waiting for you to get over him.”

“But I couldn't, okay. I was hurting him and we couldn’t-”

“Marinette, I’m your best friend, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Marinette wanted to say she couldn’t actually. She bunched her fist in her jacket instead.

“If this is about me not being the one to tell you, I already apologized. I really am sorry, but I just wasn't in the right headspace.”

“When you’re not in the right headspace your emotions tend to spill over. You’re not the type to stew in your feelings.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at her, annoyed at how factual she’d made it sound.

“Don’t act like you know everything about me, Alya.”

Alya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Marinette swallowed.

“I mean…” She sighed.

“Again, I’m not in the right headspace. Let’s just go to class.” Marinette left and didn’t look back to see if Alya followed.

--------

After class, Marinette shot some smiles at the girls. She apologized to Alya but she could tell she wanted to press further. She left before Alya could protest.

Marinette entered the bakery and greeted her parents, masking her mood with a bright smile.

“Hey Maman, hey Papa.”

“Hello, sweet buns. How was your day?”

Marinette circled the counter and joined them behind it.

“It was alright. Mme. Mendeleive started rambling about this guy called Louis Le Prince near the end of class. It was hard to follow but apparently he invented the camera before Eddison.”

Her mom smiled fondly at her.

“I didn’t know that. I hope that means she didn’t assign you any homework.”

They smirked at each other.

“You’d be right, Maman.”

Marinette didn’t say she was slightly disappointed about it. Her mind needed a distraction. And almost like she’d read her mind, her mother perked up, her expression somewhat sheepish.

“Would you be a dear and help us out with an order for waffle cookies. Me and papa are working on decorating a wedding cake.”

Marinette grinned at her mother.

“Of course, Maman.”

Her mother informed her of the specifics for the order before making her way back to her husband.

Marinette set her bag down on a corner and rolled up her sleeves, plugging in her headphones before reaching for the bottles of ingredients and bowls she would need. She scrolled through her Jagged Stone playlist as she plugged in the waffle iron, once finally settling on an album, stuffing her phone in her back pocket as she found her way back to the table. Marinette tried to get lost in the mindless task of measuring and mixing, making sure to be very meticulous so her mind could only focus on teaspoons of vanilla and cups of flour. These tasks were second nature to her anyway though, so eventually her mind wandered.

Marinette hoped that she’d be able to smooth things over with Alya tomorrow, but she knew how stubborn she could be— Alya wouldn’t stop questioning Marinette. Marinette was so tired of the lies. She’d been lying to Alya almost the entirety of their friendship, and Marinette hated that she was getting better at it. She could just continue to lie to her, it was probably what she would end up doing, but what if Marinette didn’t? What if she just told her the truth.

Marinette fumbled with the mixer before pouring her mixture of ingredients onto the mixing bowl. The sound of the mixer competed with the loud music of her headphones, but more thoughts kept crawling into her mind.

Marinette would admit that at times she wished she didn’t have to. It would be so nice to confide in someone who understood what being a highschooler was like, and who also had some experience with the whole superhero thing. The danger was obvious though. She’d be putting Alya’s security at risk, and hers as well of course. So much was at stake so she couldn’t even entertain the thought. That the weight of being Paris’ greatest superhero while being a seventeen year old high schooler was finally dawning on her.

The mixture of ingredients quickly turned into dough, and she began to scoop up balls of it with her fingers, morphing them into walnut sized balls.

How could Marinette be Marinette when she had to be ladybug? She had dreams she was trying to pursue, as well as responsibilities as a student and daughter. However, she also had a duty to Paris to protect its people. The reality was one she couldn’t afford to forget. These days it felt like she had to be ladybug more and more, her persona bleeding into her everyday. Maybe it was all the hiding and lying that was slowly becoming part of her personality.

Her fingers dug into the dough a bit too hard and ended up making a hole through the ball of dough. She sighed at the tiny doughnut in her hands before reshaping it.

Trust was such an important part of relationships but there was no one Marinette could trust with her secret. And as ladybug continued to dominate her life, Marinette felt as if she’d never be able to invest herself fully in one. Marinette couldn’t giver herself whole if she had to hide half of herself.

She began to line the dough balls, checking the waffle iron.

Marinette hoped she’d be allowed to just be her soon enough. She could dedicate all her time to progressing in her aspirations, accomplishing her responsibilities, and maintaining her relationships.

She sprayed the waffle iron with cooking spray.

Leaving ladybug ...meant leaving Chat Noir too though.

Her eyes studied the dots of cooking spray on the iron.

Fingers pressed into the dough as she placed them along the iron. She lowered the lid slowly.

Maybe… just maybe, they’d find each other after.

The smell of the cookies crisping began to waft over her, Marinette leaned against the table, propping her arms on the surface and closing her eyes as she focused on the smell. The kitchen was warm, and she could hear a bit of the tune her Maman was humming through her headphones. Jagged Stone’s guitar began to quiet down.

It could be that they would never see each other again after that.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, knuckles white with flour and fingertips sticky with residue dough. Her left thumb reached for her right hand and she began to fidget with her ring finger. How did Chat’s miraculous look when he wasn’t transformed? Marinette wondered if she’d be able to recognize it. After all, she doubted anyone would be able to recognize her superheroine persona shining through her fumbling civilian identity. Was Chat just as exuberant in real life? Her mind pondered what kind of teenager Chat would be like. He probably had a lot of friends, and he was probably a bit of an attention seeker. Marinette’s face softened. She bet he was insufferably kind. His friends were very lucky, they could enjoy being Chat’s friends without the weight of thousands of people’s lives on their shoulders. If they met without the masks, would they be friends?

She flattened her hands against the table, tracing circles with her fingers on the flour dusting it. The next song on her playlist began to start. The sweet smell of the cookies continued to fill her nose.

Actually…

Marinette sniffed the air.

“Eek-”

She tried to find the timer somewhere, realizing she hadn’t even taken it out. Scrambling to lift the waffle iron lid’s, Marinette bumped into the table, her hip bone knocking against the table’s edge. She yelped and clutched her hip. Too late, Marinette realized the uncapped vanilla extract bottle. She tried to stop its fall but the bottle tumbled and knocked against a bowl before falling on its side. The dark liquid spilled onto the wood immediately, and Marinette panicked as it pooled around bowls.

“Marinette?”

She only responded with a strained chuckle as she lifted the bottle off the table and regarded the pool of vanilla. “Sorry, I just spilled some extract.”

Her mother glanced from the wedding cake.

“Oh, honey, clean it up before it stains too badly.”

Marinette nodded and rushed to find some paper towels to absorb the extract. She pushed the bowls out of the way and pressed the paper towels onto the table, the white paper quickly turning dark even as the pool of liquid disappeared. Her eyes scanned the room for a rag as she replaced the paper towels. Her hands reached for the nearest one and took it, scrubbing at the surface, praying that the stain would lighten if she placed it next to a window. Suddenly, Marinette remembered what her original plan was as the air turned bitter. Her hands fumbled to open the waffle iron, revealing the now overly brown cookies. She plucked them off the iron and placed them on a cooling rack. As she reached for the last one, her pinky brushed against the hot metal and she hissed, biting her lip and scowling as she rubbed at the burn.

“Today is not my day”, Marinette mumbled.

Her mother shot a glance in her direction again, her brows painted with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Maman, just a little burn.” Marinette sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

She left her parents in the bakery, climbing the stairs to her home. She pushed the door open with her body and found her way into the bathroom. Marinette opened the faucet and slid her red pinky over the cool water. The change in temperature helped the pain and she exhaled deeply.

Her eyes found her reflection on the mirror and she couldn’t help but scowl. She’d been donning a ‘finals week’ kinda tired on her face– cheeks pale, eyebags deep, and pigtails almost coming undone– but now she also had flour dusting it. She couldn’t wait for this week to end. It was still the middle of the week though, so Marinette guessed she’d need to work extra hard to make it speed by. Her other hand found the faucet and closed it. The towel bothered her skin as she toweled her hands dry, but she hoped it would calm down soon enough. She made her way out of the bathroom, and turned to the kitchen. Swinging the cooler open and scanning its interior, Marinette took a napkin and plucked an ice cube off the ice rack. She closed the cooler before swinging her body onto the counter— her Maman wasn’t here so no one had to know.

The ice was a bit harsh on the burn, but Marinette was looking to numb the pain so she pressed tightly against her pinky. A quiet chuckle passed through her lips. It’d be neat if she could have some numbing ice for other aspects of herself. As she jokingly wondered how that’d work, she realized her mother was calling out to her.

“Marinette!”

She blinked at her Maman’s voice but made her way to the stairs, poking her head down to the bakery.

“Yes, Maman?” Her mother appeared from around the corner.

“There’s a girl here asking for you, honey.”

Panic rose up her throat. Was it Alya? Marinette wasn’t ready to confront her, and she needed time to come up with something to feed to her.

“She brought you some orange juice.”

Marinette frowned at her mother. Orange juice?

Tension left her face.

Her Maman knew Alya pretty well, so Marinette supposed it’d be weird of her not to just tell her it was Alya. Making her ways down the steps, Marinette looked around the bakery. A blue bob and white jacket was the first thing she registered.

“Kagami?”

The girl was standing somewhat awkwardly in front of the counter, two plastic cups in her hands.

“Good afternoon, Marinette.” Kagami’s greeting smile was stiff on her face.

“Hey, Kagami.” Marinette responded simply, she walked towards her, and weaved around the counter. She swept her hand over her cheeks.

“Sorry I was just baking.”

“You look fine, Marinette.”

“Really? I remember a few days ago you mentioned I looked pretty bad.”

“Well, you do look tired.”

Marinette shook her head. “I can’t argue with you on that.”

The logo on the plastic cups Kagami was carrying was familiar.

“So did you just drop by to give me orange juice?”

Kagami brought the cups up to her chest. “Well”, Kagami shifted her weight from one foot onto the other, “I was hoping you’d have some with me.”

“Oh”

“Then in that case.” Marinette turned to her parents, who were probably already listening,

“Can I finish the cookies later?”

“Sure, honey, just cover the dough up.”

Marinette nodded and signaled Kagami to follow her. They walked past the counter and into the actual bakery, Marinette took some wide plates and lined the dough balls on them. She took some seran wrap and covered them, setting them off to the side. She swept her hands together to shake off any remaining flour and turned to Kagami.

“Okay, follow me.”

She led her around the corner and to the stairs. Kagami glanced around.

“So this is what leads to your actual home?”

She followed Marinette up the steps.

“Yep. The first floor is just the bakery.”

She pushed the door open and moved to let Kagami in first. Kagami took her home in. The white couch decorated with throw pillows; the kitchen with their bright blue refrigerator; the three windows spilling sunlight through grey curtains. Marinette closed the door behind them. Kagami stepped into the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the fridge. Marinette joined her.

“Weird color for a home appliance, right?”

Kagami glanced back at her, but reached her hands up to a photo on the cooler’s door, her fingertips grazing it.

“Is this a relative of yours?”

Marinette glanced at what she was looking at. The photo was a few years old, Marinette was sprawled out on the couch that was currently right behind them. A teenage boy leaning on said couch was teasing Marinette with a feather. Her face was scrunched up as said boy tickled it with the feather. They were both grinning though.

“Oh.” Marinette smiled at the picture. “That’s my older brother actually.”

Kagami’s brow questioned her, surprise evident on her face. “I wasn’t aware you had a brother.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t talk about him enough. His name is Anthony.”

“Does he live here?”

“Oh, no, he’s studying abroad right now. He wasn’t able to come during Christmas but he’ll be here during the summer.”

Kagami seemed to mull over this information. She kept her eyes on the photo. “What was it like?” Marinette looked at her quizzically. “ Growing up with a sibling, I mean”, She clarified.

Marinette snorted. “Annoying, no one else knows how to tick you off like a sibling.” She wiggled her fingers as she presented the picture. “Exhibit here.”

“Really? I don’t know if that sound… enjoyable.”

“Pfft, well growing up with siblings is definitely pretty bothersome.” Marinette nodded at her own comment. “Sometimes it's funny but being so close to someone before gaining any sense of maturity comes with annoying downfalls.”

“People have told me it’s sad I don’t have any siblings though.”

Marinette couldn’t read Kagami’s expression.

“That’s kinda rude of them.”

Kagami smiled at her response.

“I’ve always thought so too.” She set the orange juice on the nearest surface. “But I guess I wonder if siblings are worth all of their hype.”

Marinette thought about her brother. It’d been a while since he’d last seen him, and she’d never admit to it to him, but sometimes his absence made her home feel empty.

“It’s also really nice, having someone to grow up with. I get why they might have said that.” She shrugged. “It’s a unique bond.”

“So do you miss you brother?”

“Ugh, well it’s a pain to admit but yeah.”

Kagami smirked in amusement. Marinette reached for the orange juice Kagami had brought. “I didn’t know they had such cute to go cups.” Kagami took the other cup and followed Marinette as she made her way to the counter in the kitchen, each of them taking a seat.

“You're the type to always notice design.” It wasn't a question.

“Well I might specialize in fashion designing, but if something is cute then I’ll notice.” Marinette brought the straw up to her mouth. The orange juice was refreshing and Marinette humed against the straw in contentment. Kagami smiled at her drink as well.

“I love orange juice, but is there a specific reason you’re here?”

Kagami parted her mouth from the juice and shrugged. “I suppose we never actually set a date for that orange juice date.”

“Hmm, are you maybe trying to make time up with me?”

“Well I did want to see you.”

“I’m flattered by your honesty. But I bet you also wanted to see what a bakery-home was like.”

Kagami looked around the room again instead of responding.

“Your house is so small.”

“Oh, gee, I know it's no mansion.”

“No, I didn’t mean it in a degrading way.” Kagami’s eyes flitted to a particular tiger shaped pillow on the coach. It was an old comfort toy of Marinette. “It’s homely, and warm.”

“Well it is right above a bakery”, Marinette pointed out.

“It does smell of baked goods.”

“Come on Sunday mornings. Last week I woke up to lemon-berry savarin and palmier pastries.”

“Should I come every Sunday to guess the pastry of the week?”

“You're invited to taste it too.”

They both laughed.

“I can’t promise I’d be awake to greet you, Sundays are one of my holy sleeping-in days.”

“I see you value your sleep.”

“You could say that. Like you’ve noticed though, I look like a mess when I don’t get enough of it.” Kagami didn’t respond for a second.

“So you haven’t been getting much sleep?”

“Oh, ah”, Marinette laughed awkwardly. “No, spose I haven’t.”

“You have a lot of responsibilities.”

“That I do.” Marinette chewed on the straw of her juice.

“Thank you for coming actually, I’ve been having an off day.”

“Rough week?”

“Pretty much.”

They sat in a comfortable silence as their juice slowly disappeared. Marinette noted that Kagami looked better than she had the last time they’d met. Part of her wanted to ask how that whole thing was going for her, but did she actually want to know?

“So”, Kagami broke the silence first. “You make deliveries but you also bake?”

“Of course, what kind of baker’s daughter do you take me for?”

“Do your parents expect you to take on the bakery someday?” Marinette opened her mouth but then swallowed.

“They understand I have a dream for designing, but we still haven’t figured it out. They really want to keep the bakery alive.”

“Sorry, it seems like a complicated subject.”

“It is, but it’s okay.” Marinette slurped the last of her orange juice and set her cup down. “It really is okay though, a discussion for the future. Like you said, I have enough on my plate at the moment.” Kagami also finished her drink

“Well I hope the bakery stays open until next Sunday, I want to try the pastry of the week.”

Marinette giggled. “I’ll make sure to make you something special.”

“Do many people get the pleasure of tasting your baking?”

“Some lucky souls out there in Paris.”

“I trust you’re good then.”

“Well I think my baking is plenty tasty, I’m just a clutz.”

“So your clumsiness doesn't interfere with the taste?”

“No, it just endangers my safety, as well as anyone’s in a three meter radius”, Marinette sighed.

“I do read you as accident prone.”

“Don’t laugh but actually I stained the work table with vanilla extract and burned my pinky only a few minutes before you came.”

Kagami’s brows rose in surprise.

“Wow, really?”

“Yep”, Marinette grumbled, lifting her right hand up. It wasn’t so distinct anymore but her finger was still red. Kagami noticed.

“I see, does it still hurt?”

“Not really, I mean it’s not fun getting burned but I have thick skin so it’s okay.”

Kagami paused and looked at her, confused. “Thick skin?”

“I’ve been pricking my fingers with needles for years, scaring has made my skin thicker and less sensitive.”

“Oh, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, sometimes I get quite insecure about it. I don’t think a guy would appreciate holding hands with me. Girls are supposed to have soft skin or whatever.”

“I know what you mean, fencing has made me build my own callouses.”

“Oh that’s right, your fence training must have done a similar number on your hands.”

Kagami nodded holding her palms out on the countertop. “I have a similar insecurity.” Marinette gazed at her hands, she could make out the callouses. She leaned closer to Kagami, placing her left hand on the countertop too.

“May I?”

Kagami’s dark eyes considered her, her bangs almost completely covering her eyebrows— It made it hard at times to decipher her expression— said bangs bounced as Kagami nodded. Marinette moved her eyes from Kagami to her palms. She lifted her left hand, her knuckles grazing the cool countertop as it approached Kagami’s. Their skin touched, marinette’s index finger grazing Kagami’s pinky. Her touch was tentative as she brushed her fingertips over Kagami’s fingers and against the inside of Kagami’s hand. It was unexpectedly cool. Just like Kagami had said, the skin along her palm’s crease was distinctly tough and one could only wonder the years of training needed to result in such callouses. She studied Kagami’s hand. Her palm was more plush than her own, but her fingers were bonier, and they also had a yellow undertone that darkened around the edges of her hands and turned into the warm color of the rest of her body. Marinette found this information oddly fascinating.

Her eyes flitted to Kagami’s face. Her gaze was on Marinette’s fingers, and Marinette realized that she was caressing Kagami’s palm. She flushed and retracted her hand, drumming her fingers on the countertop.

“Um, your hands are pretty nice actually.”

Kagami’s hands curled into loose fists.

“They aren’t soft though.”

“No, but anyone can tell that your skin’s texture is the product of hours of hard work.”

Kagami didn’t respond, but Marinette could make out a whisper of a smile on her lips.

“They, uh, they’re cool too.. Nice and cool.” Marinette swallowed, embarrassed she’d actually said that. Kagami blinked at her and Marinette hoped she hadn’t made it weird.

“Your’s are warm.”

Marinette stopped her drumming.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Baker’s daughter thing again?”

Marinette chuckled and looked at her own hands now. “Yep, exactly.” She ran her right thumb along the base of her left thumb. Her skin had more of a pink undertone which she knew she’d inherited from her papa. Marinette wondered if both of Kagami’s parents had warm undertones. She glimpsed in Kagami’s direction. Her eyes were on the countertop, somewhat hidden behind her bangs. Marinette realized how little she actually knew of Kagami. They hadn’t been friends for that long so maybe that was obvious. Was it one of those rich kid-strict parents thing?

A ringing broke her train of thought. Kagami sat up and reached for her pocket, hastily pulling her phone out. A frown pulled on her lips.

“Everything alright? Is your mom calling?”

“Just a text. She wants me to come home now/”

“Oh, do you need to be somewhere?”

“No, it’s just past the time I told her It’d be here.”

“Why does she need you home then?”

“She doesn't, she just doesn't like it when I don’t stick to my plans.” Kagami returned her phone to her pocket, she could make out her exasperation through her movements.

“You need to leave then.”

“I do. I’ve intruded long enough anyways.”

“Of course you haven’t. But I’ll walk you out.”

Marinette stood up and Kagami followed. They made their way back to the bakery. Kagami nodded her head at her parents, a small bow of her head. “Thank you for letting me come into your home, M. and Mme.Dupain-Cheng.”

“You're always welcome -”

“Kagami”, Marinette offered.

“You're always welcome, Kagami. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

“And you as well.”

They exited the bakery, Tatsu already waiting for her.

“Well, it was nice seeing you. Feel free to come again.”

“I enjoyed talking with you.” Kagami’s smile was warm, her statement genuine.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay.”

Marinette could feel her own smile on her face. She waved as Kagami entered the car and drove off. It was evening by now.

Marinette stood in front of her home. She felt better.

A/N:

It's been a while since I last saw some of the episodes so if anything seems off let me know. I don't know if Anthony will make an appearance but I love the Brother AU so I'm including it. Feedback is appreciated, especially since I don't have any beta readers, point out any mistakes please. -Rey :D

[cinnaminsvga]

🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: This... fried my brain cells. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to WRITE... I’m not sure if any of this flows properly but it’s 5AM right now, I am tired, I am jetlagged, I’ve forgotten how to speak English, but this is the best I can do and I guess that’s all that matters. Anyway, RIP Y/N you’re about to have a bad time. *megalovania intensifies* || W.C. 2.7K

prev // part 27 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

Despite the summer heat already dwindling as the cooler months start to settle in, the sun still shines strongly in Ilsan. Sweat drips down your back like a faucet, the shade of the trees doing little to protect you from the midday heat. Namjoon had offered to relocate to one of the small air-conditioned cafes just outside of the park, but you chose to bear the heat instead, more interested in enjoying the packed lunch his mother had prepared for the two of you and observe the people milling about.

“Your mom is a cooking goddess,” you say with a large grin, moaning unabashedly as you chowed down on her homemade kimchi. Completely immersed in the pleasure that is Mrs. Kim’s food, you forget all semblance of dignity as you make it your goal to get all the food into your body as quickly as you can. “God, her food is so fucking good. How can you even bear leaving home?”

Namjoon chuckles, eating at a significantly more humane and dignified pace. “Believe me, it was hard choosing to study in Seoul for university, but it was a sacrifice I had to make. I’m just lucky that I live relatively close, so I can visit them every once in a while.”

“Then you oughta invite me over again some time. The dinner last night? I dreamt about nothing but her galbitang,” you say with bits of food still in your mouth, but Namjoon doesn’t seem all that phased. He’s gotten used to it, or so you hope. Habits die hard when you’ve been stuck with animals (read: boys) as friends for the last ten years.

“You can come over anytime. Though I’m not sure if you would want to, since then you’ll have to keep pretending to be my girlfriend if we do…” Namjoon trails off, his gaze lowering back to his food. His lips purse, brow crumpling in that way you’ve come to realize was he was overthinking again. “N-not that you’d have to. Pretend to be my girlfriend, that is. I can p-probably just bring home some packed lunches to Seoul whenever I come over, or something then you could—“

“Namjoon,” you call out to him, snapping him out from his rambling. You place your container of food down on the grass, raising your hands up as if in surrender. Confused, Namjoon is about to ask what you’re doing before you promptly smack him (gently), grabbing his cheeks and squeezing them together until he looks like a cute (and incredibly bemused) pufferfish.

“Huwah?” Namjoon tries to speak, but your grip on his face prevents him from moving even an inch. “Y/N?”

“Namjoon, I know we’re fake dating and all and I did agree to go with you to see your parents just this one time, but is it that hard to get it through that thick skull of yours?”  you say, eyes boring into his as you try to communicate your feelings. After a few moments of staring, you sigh tiredly when the look of confusion refuses to leave his face, his eyebrows raised in both astonishment and uncertainty. This fucking idiot, you think tiredly to yourself, but it’s hard to stay annoyed at him, not when he looks so cute with his cheeks squished between your hands.

You continue, “Aren’t we friends? Doesn’t that mean I would do anything for you, even if that means pretending to be your fake girlfriend as many times as I have to?”

Realization finally dawns on Namjoon’s face, but it is quickly replaced by sheepishness. “Oh, I guesh sho…” he says dejectedly. “Showwy.”

“Good. Now stop being so insecure!” you huff, pinching his cheek for good measure before you release him. He rubs his jaw gingerly, pouting like a child who had just been scolded.

“Okay, I promise… Sorry,” he repeats, rubbing his neck in shame.

But even then… you aren’t satisfied. Not until he can really get over his insecurity, but you suppose this is going to have to suffice for now. You can tell that Namjoon still has some ongoing conflict happening inside of him that he doesn’t seem willing to share with you as of now. You desperately want to pry, but you know more than anyone how frustrating it can be when someone tries a little too hard to help you, even if getting into right up in your business comes from a place with good intentions. He deserves to set his own pace, and you are more than willing to be patient with him (most of the time, at least. Some pinching and prodding may be useful along the way.)

“I’m not gonna leave you, you know? You’re stuck with me for life unfortunately, so you’re going to have to deal with me for the rest of yours. That was my only condition when I agreed to be your fake girlfriend, remember?” you say, giggling lightly at his dumbfounded expression. “Unless you’re tired of me already? I can always leave,” you tease.

“No!” Namjoon exclaims suddenly, nearly slapping himself in the face when he brings his hand to his mouth. A few families also eating at the park look at the two of you in alarm, but Namjoon can only bow to them apologetically. When he turns back to you, his cheeks are reddened slightly, though that could also be from being under the sun for so long. He scratches his nose: another nervous tick of his. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scream like that. I just… No, I’m not tired of you. I don’t think that’s even possible. You’re one of the greatest people I know and I like hanging out with you.”

“I…” You’re shocked by his sudden proclamation, stuttering as you try to formulate a response. You cough in embarrassment, shifting your gaze elsewhere, anywhere, away from Namjoon’s earnest expression. It’s a complete 360 from the shy schoolboy persona he had just moments ago. “Thank you… I guess? I’m just… Wow, how do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Switch modes so quickly like that? One moment you’re a bumbling buffoon and then the next second you’re saying sweet shit like it’s nothing!” You huff, hoping that your own cheeks aren’t heating up. “Seriously. Are you sure you don’t have a girlfriend?”

Namjoon lets out a short guffaw; the sound familiar to you as the one that he makes when he doesn’t know what to say. You don’t know how or when you had gotten so adept at differentiating his multiple ticks, but it makes you feel… special, for lack of a better word. You wonder if he notices things about you, too.

“I think I would be the first to know if I had a girlfriend. I suppose you’re the closest thing I have,” Namjoon says. When you look back at him, you can see that he’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, at least my parents think you’re the real deal. You were really good last night, by the way. My mom wouldn’t stop gushing about you when you went to bed.”

“Oh God, you guys talked about me when I went to bed?” You gasp in horror, worst-case scenarios flying through your head even though realistically, you know you had been perfectly normal during the entire evening. You had even practiced in front of the mirror the week before, rehearsing the lines you’d have to say should his parents ask the usual relationship questions. You memorized the story the two of you came up with: how the two of you had met, how you’d gotten together, how long you’d been dating… It was all so ingrained in your brain that it almost felt real, sometimes.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, poking you lightly on the nose. “No, it was nothing bad. You were perfect, like always. I doubt my parents could ever hate you even if they tried. You were wonderful.”

You nod slowly, still slightly unconvinced. “Okay… If you say so. I just don’t want to mess things up for you, you know?”

Namjoon slings an arm around your waist, inadvertently causing you to scoot closer to him until you could comfortably lay your head on his shoulder. You tilt your head upwards, your breath hitching when you realize how close your faces were to each other.

“I suppose we’re both dummies then, huh? I know this is hypocritical of me to say, but don’t be so insecure, okay? We got this. We’re fine.” Namjoon’s voice dips into a whisper, his forehead nearly touching yours. When he’s close like this, you can smell the kimchi in his breath; not an unpleasant scent by any means, but you do wonder if he’d taste good if you’d leaned in right now and kissed him—

“Y/N, you have rice on your chin,” Namjoon interrupts your train of thought, catching you off guard. You yelp, sitting straight up and separating from him like you had been shocked. Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice, as he seems more intent on wiping away the stray rice grains than anything else. When he flicks them away, he smiles at you endearingly, his dimples on display for your mortal eyes.

“Um,” you stammer, rubbing your chin belatedly. “T-thanks…”

“Y/N, are you okay? You’re getting kind of red. Maybe we should head back? We’ve been under the sun for a while.” He grabs his phone from his pocket, nearly dropping it as he fumbles with it before he finally manages to take a look at the time. “Oh, damn. It’s already almost 4. We better head out if you want to go look around the shopping district,” he says, packing up his mom’s containers. “Do you want to finish your food?”

You still had a bit of food left, but your appetite had strangely disappeared. So instead, you help him pack up, ready to get out of there and get your mind off of weird things. This is fine, you’re just being weird because of the bad week you had. Let’s try to relax, you remind yourself, but even you think your words sound weak.

Disgruntled and shaky, you trail after Namjoon in silence, content to just listen to him explain certain landmarks to you as you walk towards the nearby shopping street.

“I don’t know if I ever mentioned this, but if we have time, we could probably visit my old high school on our way back. There’s a small park near it where I used to hide whenever I didn’t want to go home,” Namjoon says, chuckling at the memory. “My life used to be a constant cycle of going to school and coming home to study some more, so my mom would throw an absolute fit whenever I came home late, but she could never figure out where my hiding spot was.”

You snort, smiling at the thought of a rebellious Namjoon. It’s hard to imagine, especially with how hardworking he is with all his side projects that you’ve caught glimpses of when he had shown you his workshop. “Are you sure you want to show me your spot? What if I tell your mom?”

Namjoon laughs, eyes crinkling from the sheer force of it. The sight of him laughing causes you to pause for a moment, caught off guard by how… good he looks, when he looks so honest, so vulnerable. Namjoon smiles a lot, but you’ve never seen him this cheery, like the sun had come down to earth for the day. You like it a lot; you want to be able to make him express himself honestly like that all the time.

“If you tell my mom, then she’ll know for sure that you’re the one for me,” he jokes, the remnants of his joy still present in his eyes. He winks cheekily at you, making the tips of your ears redden ever so slightly. “There are many nooks and crannies I’d love to show you around Ilsan, but we only have a weekend here, unfortunately. If you could stay another day, I could probably show you around more.”

“I mean… I could, if you want me to,” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You inhale sharply, both yours and Namjoon’s eyes popping out when you realize what you had said.

“I just! I don’t mean to intrude, of course—“

“Y-you don’t have to stay! It was just wishful thinking, of course—“

You both speak at the same time, talking over the other as you both try to explain yourselves. You both stop speaking simultaneously as well, causing the two of you to burst into laughter. You’re doubled over, giggling as tears of mirth slide down your cheeks at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

“God, why are we so awkward together? I thought I was bad, but I guess pairing two socially inept losers really has doubled our power, huh?” you say.

“I know. You’d think we only just met yesterday or something.” Namjoon scratches his nose bashfully, but the same honest smile is still on his face. “But if what you said was true, then… I’d love to have you around for another day, if you want to stay? Like I said, I love hanging out with you. This is honestly the most fun I’ve had in a long while,” he says shyly. He coughs into his fist, pupils shaking as he stares resolutely at your chin.

“Me… me too. I’m having a lot of fun too,” you admit, your cheeks heating up involuntarily. You both turn to look away, embarrassed by each other’s sudden confession. What is going on with me today? you wonder idly, forcing your rapidly beating heart to calm.

“Er, well. We’re almost at the shopping district,” Namjoon clears his throat, trying his best to wave off the suddenly awkward atmosphere. He points ahead, where you can see rows of shops and booths of all shapes and sizes, selling anything and everything you can imagine. “You’re the guest here, so you choose. What shop do you want to head to first?”

“That reminds me. Jimin had asked me to buy this skin product from some store around here. Let me check the brand; he texted me the photo before we left,” you say, rummaging for your phone in your bag. Admittedly, you haven’t been using your phone all day asides from taking and posting the occasional photo, keeping it on silent and do not disturb to stop unwanted text messages from disturbing your time with Namjoon. You know you had a few messages from your group chat that you’ve left to read for later, but it’s only now that you realize that you had another message waiting from a person you would rather not speak to at all.

“Oh geez, what does that whore want?” You sigh, going against your better judgment and opening it anyway. “I swear, if Seokjin is using me as a booty call now of all times, I’m going to rip his ass in two the next time I—“

“Y/N? You okay?” Namjoon asks when he notices you have suddenly stopped speaking. He had been walking continuously, assuming that you were following behind him only to find that you were frozen in place a few steps away, staring holes into your phone screen. He walks over back to you, concern flickering in his eyes when he approaches you. “Hey, what’s up? Did you get an important text or something?”

“No, it’s nothing important. It’s…” You sigh, not knowing what to say. Your lips begin to wobble as your senses are assaulted by confusion, pain, and heartache all at once—all because of a single text message. Your eyes start to well up, but you blink them away. You’re quick to wave off Namjoon’s slow growing panic at your sorry state, not wanting to ruin his day with your stupid emotional breakdown.

“Y/N. Who texted you? What is it? You can tell me, I promise I won’t judge you,” he whispers kindly, taking your free hand in his own. He rubs comforting circles into your palm, his brow scrunched up in worry as he watches you fight to keep your tears at bay. “Y/N?”

You take a shuddering breath.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Advantages of studying [Remus Lupin x Reader] - Requested

Title: Advantages of studying Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word count: 2.9k Published: 22 July, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: I got this cute request by winsalo on Wattpad a couple of days ago. Summary: You have been helping Remus with his Potions essay, whilst slowly falling for the kind boy. However you are rather shy around Remus and find it hard to make the first step.  Request: [x]

"Please could you do one with Remus and a girl called Evangeline but Eve for short. They become sloe whilst studying together. I love your writing by the way." - Winsalo [Wattpad]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You have been sitting in the library for the past two hours, studying with Remus. Studying might have been a strong use of word as you have been trying not to stare at him the whole time. You kept your face down, pretending to read the lines of your potions book, but you couldn't even recall a word. Of course, you couldn't. Although you kept glancing at the book, your eyes often wondered to the brown haired boy sitting across the table.

Potions wasn't his strongest subject, therefore you have been helping him with the essay you were given by Professor Slughorn. He was so concentrated on his parchment, his brows furrowed, whilst trying to write down his thoughts. At times he ran his fingers through his locks with a deep sigh leaving his lips as if it helped him in concentrating. His long fingers wrapped themselves around his quill, holding them firmly in place. It made you wonder what kind of a boy he was.

You have known him since first year and you could only see a kind side of his, but you knew there was always more to people. You wished to get to know him better, you wished to talk to him more often. Unfortunately for you, he was quite reserved. Unless he needed help with studying, he didn't talk to you much. He did wave at you or smiled gently while nodding when you met in class, but he never really initiated a conversation. You wished he did though. You were rather shy when it came to him. You never really dared to get close to him, feeling as if he was trying to keep everyone away from himself, other than his three best friends.

You admired him for his smart brain, his kind manners, his polite behaviour, but you rarely saw those sides and unfortunately your lack of knowledge on him forced you to admire only his physical appearance. You didn't complain though. He was dashingly handsome and a sweet candy to the eyes.

You tried very hard not to stare, but it seemed to be impossible. He flipped through the pages of the book he was taking his notes from, before he lifted his face to look up at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You felt like you have been caught out and you were unable to hide the blush creeping up on your cheeks.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, but instead of looking at him, your eyes wondered to the shelves full of old and dusty books. You were trying to avoid his eyes in case your stupid little brain decided to stare at him once again, creepily.

"Sure." You replied after a moment of silence, digging yourself into your book.

"Look, if you have anything else to do, I can finish it from here." He spoke, making you frown as you finally looked into his dark, green eyes and shook your head.

"No, not at all. I guess, I am just a bit distracted, that's all." You let a small smile spread across your face.

"Can I help?" He asked, but you shook your head, knowing this was a battle you had to fight with yourself.

"It's nothing important." You tried to reassure him.

"Well, it seems to me that it is. You haven't written a word on your parchment." He pointed at your paper and for a second you could feel your face go white as your blood rushed out of your cheeks.

"Oh..." You breathed, realisation hitting you hard.

"So...?" He tried again, but you just shook your head, quickly starting to write your essay, knowing you had barely a few hours to finish it. Remus didn't try to talk to you again, seeing that you were completely lost in your studies. He smiled softly as he looked at your hunched form, your complete attention on your paper.

Hours passed by when Madam Pince walked over, her nose held high, his brows raised, impatiently waiting for the students to leave the library. You both packed your books, notes, quills and inks, putting them all in the bags, ready to leave. As you walked out of the library, Remus placed a hand on the small of your back and halted, turning towards you. You raised a brow at his unexpected actions, but gave him your undivided attention.

"I guess, you don't have to tutor me anymore." Remus smiled at you as if he thought it was some kind of a burden on you. However you didn't return his joyful expression. You weren't happy to say the least. You didn't want that gap to stand between you two once again, but you didn't dare to do anything about it. He clearly didn't want you as anything more than a tutor.

"Yes, but if you have any questions, you can always ask me." You reassured more yourself than him, hoping for him to come to you eventually.

"I will, thank you." He nodded and offered you a pleased look, before he walked away from you, leaving you to stare at the back of the dark brown jumper he has been wearing. You heaved a deep sigh as you walked up to your dormitory, concluding that you have been left to ogle over his mere presence from afar once again. Arriving to your dorm, you threw yourself on your bed and hid your face in your pillow, hoping for this feeling you have been harbouring for him to just disappear.

The next couple of days have been quite. You watched him sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table at breakfast, you stared at his back on Potions and Transfiguration, being seated right behind him, you gazed at his laughing form, sitting by the lake with his friends. You wished to be part of all his experiences, but you knew your love for him was only one sided. Love, indeed. You came to love the oblivious boy, making it so much harder to watch him from afar.

You were sitting in your dorm room, legs spread across the floor, back leaning against the edge of the bed. You have been sighing for minutes straight, before your friend walked up to you and sat down besides you.

"You have to stop this. Why don't you just ask him out?" She asked curiously.

"I can't. He... he is Remus. He wouldn't date with someone like me." You let out a defeated deep breath, head hanging low in sorrow.

"What does that even mean? Have you looked into the mirror? You are beautiful, you are smart, you are funny. Who wouldn't want to date you?" She asked with a sceptical look on her face.

"Clearly noone." You huffed. You couldn't recall receiving a single confession recently.

"Erm... yeah. You have been staring at Remus so obviously, that everyone is aware of it." She raised her brow knowingly.

"No, I have not." You argued, but she shook her head.

"Yes, you have. I could walk around the dorm, knocking on doors and people would confirm it without hesitation." She smirked. "The only person who doesn't realise your feelings is Remus. Look, he is a nice guy, ask him out. Even if he rejects you, which believe me, he won't, you won't have to be scared of being made fun of, because he is just not wired that way." She tried to convince you. While you knew she was right, you were still scared to let him know of your feelings.

"His friends could make fun of me. He could start avoiding me. I could even scare him away and that would be beyond painful." You spoke, but your friend just shook her head.

"Excuses. Do it!" She said as if it was that simple. "Do it!" She repeated it once again with a raised brow. "If you don't I will." She grinned mischievously.

"What?" Your eyes grew wide in shock.

"I will tell him myself." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"No." You replied, suddenly grabbing her shoulder.

"Will you do it then?" She asked, waiting for a clear confirmation.

"Fine, I will." You spoke in an unsure tone.

"Good! Now let's go to bed and first thing on the morning you will confess your undying love." She giggled, making you grimace at her happy face.

Slumber took over you harder than ever as you tried to think through all the scenarios that could happen. As much as you wished to think of all the happy endings, somehow your mind wondered over to the dark side, imagining all the different kind of rejections you expected to receive. Deep sighs left your lungs on numerous occasions, to a point where your friend woke up and threw a pillow at your face. You growled at her childish behaviour, but soon finally let your nervous thoughts go and fell into a sweet dream, revolving around Remus.

The next morning you stood in front of your mirror, preparing yourself for the most embarrassing day of your life. You wanted to stay behind and just play the poor, sick student act, but your friend laughed straight in your face and pushed you out the door. You rolled your eyes at her dominant behaviour, but headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast anyway.

Remus was already sitting at the table with his friends, laughing about probably the newest prank they have been planning. You heaved a deep sigh and took your seat, trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Come on." Your friend ushered you, but you just shook your head furiously.

"Not in the Great Hall." You frowned.

"Why not?" She asked, her head tilting in confusion.

"Everyone could hear it. Let me do it later." You whispered, not wanting anyone to know that you have been planning something.

"Fine." She huffed and returned to her breakfast.

Classes flew by and since your friend wasn't nagging you, you certainly thought you were off the hook. Oh, what a wrong thought that was. Classes finished and you were sitting outside the Black lake as per your friend's request, studying for your Transfiguration exam. You were deep in your thoughts, but you could just about hear a group of boys laughing loudly at the edge of the lake. You didn't have to think for long to realise it was Remus who was having fun with his group of friends. You turned to your friend, your cheeks heating up, feeling embarrassment coming over you.

"It's time." She said with a cheeky smile, biting into her lower lip. You frowned suspiciously before it all downed on you.

"You knew!" You stated firmly, but she just shrugged with the same smile across her face and nudged your shoulder, telling you to go.

You placed your books and parchment on the grass and stood up hesitantly, while rearranging your wrinkled cloths. You looked back at your friend, hoping for a more empathetic feeling from her, but she just gave you a sceptical look as if she knew you wanted to run away. You knew you had no escape route at this point, but your legs didn't move. You stood there, looking at the man who has stolen your heart, but you just couldn't take the first step.

"Remus." You heard her calling him from beside you and you gave a terrified look to your friend, who simply shrugged it off. "Go." She said as she lowered her head back into her book once again.

Your eyes looked up to the owner of the green orbs, who was curiously searching for a reason why he was called over so abruptly. You met him right in the middle of the land, between both of your friends and stood silently. You exhaled sharply, before deciding to speak up.

"Hey." Your voice was weak and low, he could barely hear you.

"Hey, is everything okay?" He asked, realising your rather nervous fidgeting.

"Yeah..." You spoke hesitantly. "I..." You tried to get your words out, but they just didn't seem to come. "I thought..." You kept attempting to say what you practiced last night, but your mind drew a blank and you started to get more and more scared of the situation. He could see your shaking hands and before you knew it, he grabbed them and squeezed them gently.

"You don't seem okay." He said, worry clear in his voice. His touch made you feel even more terrified and out of mere fear you quickly removed your hands from his. "I'm sorry." He apologised as he realised what he had done.

"No!" You shot up, not wanting him to feel bad for trying to comfort you. "I just... can I be just honest?" You asked, feeling more and more nervous about beating around the bush.

"Yes, that would be much appreciated." He chuckled lightly. You heaved a deep sigh and exhaled, repeating the process a couple of times before you took the courage to speak up again.

"Would you go on a date with me?" You asked, your words almost slurring together. Your eyes were attached to his face to see a reaction, but he seemed expressionless.

"What?" He finally spoke, but those were not the words you expected.

"Please, don't let me repeat that." Your tone was begging as you felt the fear growing inside you. As if you could be rejected by simply repeating your words.

"I... I didn't think you would look at me like that." He frowned and you tilted your head curiously.

"Why not?" You asked, knowing that you have been more than obvious about your feelings.

"I don't know. I just didn't see it." He smiled gently, making your heart flutter in hope, but then silence fell up on you, making you anxious about his answer once again. His eyes were fixed on the ground, letting his thoughts take over him.

"You were the only one who didn't." You chuckled awkwardly trying to save the situation and fill in the silent gap.

However it didn't work. Remus stood in front of you with a puzzled expression, trying to find the right answer, while you fidgeted with your hands in nervousness. You felt your heart sunk deeper in sorrow as you started to realise that his silence was perhaps a rejection he didn't dare to say, not wanting to hurt you.

You painfully smiled to yourself, concluding that he was perhaps too kind to reject your advances. You let him think for a while, knowing he was probably searching for the nicest words to tell you, he didn't see you that way, that he didn't think of you as a potential romantic interest. You heaved a deep sigh, eyes still glued to the nervous boy.

"Come on, Moony. You have been drooling over Y/N for the past year. Just say yes." Sirius shouted, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration. Your eyes widened at his words and finally Remus looked up at you in shock.

"Damn it." He whispered, but you could just hear it fine. A small smile started spreading across your face, before you started lightly giggling. "That's not how I planned to... yeah." He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He was nervous, but it wasn't because he was trying to find words to reject you, but because he didn't know the right words, now that his feelings have been returned. "I guess, that would be a yes then." He smiled happily this time. You could barely contain your excitement, but you tried to hide it anyway. You didn't really know much about Remus' friends, but you were certain that you would like them.

"Good, I'm glad you agreed." You spoke awkwardly, not knowing what to do next.

"I would have been stupid not to." He chuckled.

"Go get some Moony." Sirius walked up behind him and patted him on the back, pushing him forward. Things happened so fast, you could barely process the situation. One second Remus was standing in front of you, smiling awkwardly, the next he stumbled over to you, his hands on your upper arms to steady himself, his lips attached to yours.

Your eyes widened in shock, your breath stuck in your lungs as you felt his plump lips against yours. He quickly stepped back, fear clearly projected in his eyes.

"I am so sorry. Sirius just pushed me and I..." He tried to explain everything at once, his words a mess, his arms gesturing all over.

"It's fine." You smiled softly, trying to contain the cheerful screams you wanted to let out so badly. "But next time, maybe after the date." You giggled, which caused a relived sigh to leave his lips, before a smile appeared across his face.

You have never felt more excited in your life, than in the moment he said yes and for the record, there wasn't just one or two kisses, but many more throughout the years.

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[dovechim]

a remedy for mondays 03 (m)

01 | 02 | 03

➾ 8k words

➾ summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

tl,dr: the part where things start unraveling until they fall apart completely.

➾ warnings: romantic sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, slight dom jimin, shit really hits the fan in this one 

➾ a/n: well well well... look who’s back :”) I struggled for months on where to take this, had a breakthrough in the last couple of days and speed wrote this. inspiration is unpredictable! here’s to the first update of 2020, and more to come!

“Is that all you’re having?” Granny asks with a frown as you finish your second bowl of rice after much cajoling from her. “You need to eat more for the baby! Jimin puppy, go get more from the kitchen.”

You stop Jimin with a meaningful frown. All weekend Granny has been feeding you so well that you feel like you’ve already gained weight. If you’re not careful, you’ll be returning to work with a food baby at this rate.

“Oh Granny, no, we’re already late. We need to catch the train back or else we’ll get back too late today,” Jimin grabs your hand in his as he rises from the table, prompting you to follow his lead. “We should get going now. Our stuff’s already by the doorway.”

Granny only lets you go by making Jimin promise to buy you something else to eat at the train station. Just as Jimin’s mother and father are offering to drive you back home themselves, Granny comes bustling toward the front door in a hurry.

“_____ dear, you forgot this!” Granny is holding a small pink pouch that you recognise as your own, containing all your sanitary pads and tampons that you keep with you at all times as a matter of habit.

Your heart skips a beat because you remember that you most definitely didn’t zip it up this morning, and Granny might have gotten a peek into its contents. You scan Granny’s face for any sign of suspicion or even accusation. If you really are pregnant, then you wouldn’t be carrying around sanitary products like this. Could Granny have already caught on that this is entirely a scam?

But the kind old woman merely smiles as she pats your hand warmly.

“You have to come back soon. It was so nice to have you here with us,” is all she says as she envelopes you into a hug. “I’ll send you some food I made later on in the week. You take care of yourself now.”

Strangely enough, Granny doesn’t mention the baby like you thought she would, but before you can think too much about it, Jimin’s father ushers the both of you into his car, and just like that, the weekend spent with Jimin’s family is over.

*

When you walk into office on Monday morning to find your desk significantly smaller, it’s not because the Monday blues are playing tricks on you. Your things have been shifted to a makeshift desk half the size of your original one, files and papers strewn haphazardly across its surface.

You look around for an explanation, but everyone has their heads down; typing, clicking and scrolling away. No one looks up for a second, not even when you clear your throat. You sort through the mess to find your laptop under it. Previously with your larger desktop screen to work with while poring over spreadsheets and word documents, you already experienced some eye strain, but now with only your laptop, it’s definitely going to get much worse.

Finally, you decide to approach Jung Hoseok, who is part of the Office Facilities Management team.

“Hey, um… Hoseok? What happened to my desk? Was there a reorganisation that I wasn’t informed of?” Your voice is hesitant and small amidst the austere silence of the office.

The bespectacled man takes his time finishing his email before he turns around. His desk is cluttered with all sorts of paraphernalia, from anime figurines to a mini fan and an assortment of snacks. It makes his regular sized table look tiny, not a single inch of bare space can be seen on it. When he finally faces you, he has a bored look on his face.

“Wh- oh. Your table? We had to make some space for some new joiners next month,” he says as he clicks open the floor plan that details everyone’s seating arrangement. He doesn’t let you look at it for long, though, and as cluttered as it is, you only manage to get a fleeting glimpse before he closes the document again. “A few other people’s desks have been shifted too. Count yourself lucky that you’re still in the same spot.”

“But I need more space. For my files, and I need my desktop screen too,” you try in vain to protest, but you can already see Hoseok’s attention drifting away.

“We figured since you’d be going on maternity leave soon, that it made the most sense to shift your desk…” Hoseok glances back at you, his eyes falling very briefly to your still normal sized belly. For a moment, you can see a flicker of curiosity pass over his features, but then it disappears.

And there’s nothing you can really say about that. You can’t say that this entire thing is a ruse that you made up just to get some time off for a concert. When they say life always finds a way, they were damn right. Life always finds a way to bite you in the ass.

Now your desk is the same size as an intern’s. It might sound stupid to anyone else but having a desk in the office is like having a place to call your own. Where you can put up all your decorations, pictures of you and your friends, cards and notes from your friends that helps to make the day a little better.

But you can’t have any of that now, because your new, smaller desk also means that you don’t have a partition on which to put all the decorations anymore. You swallow back the nausea that suddenly rises in your throat. Your new desk is only a few seats away from your previous one, so if you look over, you can still see Jimin’s head over the partition. He seems to sense that you are looking in his direction, as his eyes peek over the partition and meet yours. You don’t have to see the rest of his face to know that he is currently pouting on your behalf.

You try to ignore how cramped your workspace is and sit down to check your emails, throwing yourself into your work. Your back is facing the aisle, and when people walk up and down, you can feel their curious glances on your back.

Nevertheless, the weekend spent with Jimin’s family has reenergised you somewhat, and you’re able to work for two hours without getting distracted or feeling tired. In the middle of the morning, you suddenly hear a commotion from one of the other teams.

“Oh my god, this year’s bonus is great!! Thank you!!” The Finance team’s newest joiner, Kim Soo-Jung, squeals as she hugs her phone to her chest. “It’s the most I’ve ever had!”

“You all deserve your performance bonus,” the leader of the Finance team, Min Yoonji, says with a proud smile. “You’ve been the best team so far. It’s just an incentive!”

Upon hearing their conversation, you pick up your phone to log in and check your pay slip in a hurry, wondering just how much of a performance bonus you’ll get. Thinking back to all the late nights you spent, weekends burnt and lunches wasted at work, you begin to feel optimistic for the first time in a long while.

But when you scroll down to see the number at the bottom of the page, it remains the same as usual. No increments. No bonus at all. You check that you have the correct month’s payslip loaded, and there’s no mistake.

All around you, people are checking their payslips with excitement on their faces, huddling around with their teams and comparing amounts.

Jeongguk leaps out of his chair, fists raised to the ceiling as he grins uncontrollably. “Yes!!! Best day ever!!!”

“You got a bonus too?” You can’t help but question, seeing as he seems to be the most relaxed one out of your team when it comes to work. He goes home on time every day, takes a long lunch every day, and probably doesn’t even know what overtime is. If even Jeon Jeongguk can get a bonus and you can’t…

“Yeah, didn’t you get one?” He says nonchalantly.

“I did,” you mumble as you turn back to your computer, putting away your phone and ending the conversation in a hurry in case he asks how much bonus you got.

The rest of the morning passes in a slight blur as you try to distract yourself from the burning unfairness of the whole situation. When your stomach reminds you that it’s time for lunch, you glance up to see Jimin walking towards your table with a smile.

“Lunch?” He asks, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

You blink out of a slight daze, realising that you were lost in your thoughts for the past few minutes. Your eyes focus back on the email pulled up on your screen, reading the title hastily.

FREE HEALTH CHECKUP FOR ALL STAFF

“Did you see this email?” You ask, and Jimin places one hand on your desk, leaning in so that his chin hovers directly above your head. The whole proximity of his body is giving you butterflies as he casually drops a kiss on the top of your head before replying.

“Yeah, I did. Wanna sign up for the same day together?”

“You sure you wanna go for it?” You can’t help but have a weird feeling about this as you scroll through the email, reading through all the details. It’s a free health checkup for all staff provided through a mobile health clinic, for selected days and times only.

“Yeah, why not?” Jimin shrugs as he straightens up again. “It’s free. Health checkups like this would normally cost a bomb.”

“I’m afraid they might… you know. Find out about this,” you voice lowers to a whisper towards the end of your sentence, but from the way your gaze drops to your middle, Jimin’s face dawns with recognition.

“Baby, healthcare professionals are obligated to maintain individual privacy. They can’t divulge anything about your health to anyone,” Jimin reassures in a whisper, bending down beside you so that you can look at him more comfortably, stroking your hand in your lap.

You’re still new to this public display of affection, but luckily, the office is pretty empty since everyone has left for lunch. You’re not entirely convinced about this health checkup thing, but then again, it could just be your paranoia from all the bad things that have already occurred this morning. After all, you firmly believe that bad things happen in threes. And right now, you’re on strike two. 

Taking a deep breath, you smile at him, pushing away any other thoughts. “You’re right. This is perfectly fine. Which slot should we go for?”

A few clicks later, you close your laptop and reach for your wallet, taking Jimin’s hand as you walk out of office with a few of your colleagues’ admiring gazes on your backs.

*

“Deep breath please… one, two, three… and out…”

You can feel the cold metal of the stethoscope through your thin blouse as the doctor listens to your breathing. While he does this, you’re left staring at the medical information that you filled out on the form at the beginning of the session, your heart rate speeding up when it comes to the question:

Are you currently pregnant, or expecting? Yes/ No

Your hands start to sweat, and the doctor seems to notice. Dr Cha Eun Woo withdraws the stethoscope and places it back around his neck.

“Is everything going okay for you? You seem a little stressed. Problems at work?” He smiles jovially as he records something down on his clipboard.

“Um… yeah, kind of. The usual stress, you know,” you gesture vaguely, wanting this entire thing to be over as soon as possible. You add in a laugh for good measure.

Dr Cha makes an understanding noise in the back of his throat as he reaches for your medical form, scanning through it briefly. “Let’s see… no health problems, you’re exercising often, you don’t smoke, only the occasional drink here and there. Sexual history is… active, but you’re not pregnant, nor planning to become in the near future, am I right?”

You visibly tense up at his question, and the lack of a response causes him to look up at you.

“Did I say something wrong?” His smile turns into a concerned frown. “I apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable. It’s just the standard questions that we ask all who come in for a checkup.”

You shake your head and attempt to unclench your fists. Jimin is right. This is a medical healthcare professional who is just doing his job. He isn’t asking you because he wants to report you to the company or anything.

“No, definitely not pregnant,” you answer him confidently, conveniently leaving out the answer to the second part of his question.

But Dr Cha seems satisfied, and he reaches to unwrap the blood pressure cuff from your arm. “Alright then. I guess we’re done here. I’ll just let the nurse take a blood sample from you, and we’ll have the results sent to you over text message in about a week or so.”

You were just about to get up from your seat, but you freeze in your tracks. “Bl-blood sample?”

“To check your cholesterol levels, blood count, and generally things that we can’t detect through a physical check-up alone. Is there… is there a problem?”

You almost say that you’re scared of needles, but then how childish would that sound?

Dr Cha is still looking at you expectantly, and there’s really no good reason for you to refuse. So you paste on a smile and let the nurse draw some blood from the crook of your elbow, and then you are out of the mobile health clinic.

As you come down the stairs of the van, Jimin is waiting outside for you, having had his turn just before. You stumble a little on the last step, and he rushes forward to catch you.

“Are you okay?” Jimin’s grasp around you is tight as he sets you down carefully on the ground, pulling back to examine your face.

“I’m fine, just got a little excited for it to be over,” you squeeze his arm lightly, overly aware of your colleagues waiting in the vicinity of the mobile health clinic. Of one pair of eyes in particular, as she walks up to the two of you.

“You should really be more careful, ______! Especially in your condition,” Jihyo from Communications tsks as she appraises the both of you with admiration in her eyes. “Isn’t it great that we have this though? I’m sure having an extra health check wouldn’t hurt for the baby!”

Her probing eyes then travel down to your midriff, and you can see that she is just bursting with curiosity. Before she gets the chance to ask any more questions, however, Jimin puts an arm around you and gives her a polite smile.

“Thank you for your concern, but we should be getting back to work now,” Jimin gives her a small bow. “I hope your health check-up goes well. See you back in the office.”

He turns you around and you are all too glad to follow, leaving the whispers and curious glances behind.

*

“_____? Could I have a quick minute please?” Kim Namjoon from HR smiles pleasantly, as you look up to find him at your desk.

You save the spreadsheet you’d been working on and give him a nod, getting up to follow him to one of the meeting rooms. On the way in, you make eye contact with Jimin, seeing his curious head pop up from behind his partition.

“How’s everything been going for you lately?” Kim Namjoon smiles stiffly as he sits down, lacing his fingers together. “Pregnancy going okay?”

“Um…” You hesitantly take a seat across him, wondering what this could be about. It definitely isn’t one of those ‘how-are-you’ conversations between two colleagues. The very fact that Kim Namjoon is part of HR makes you wary.  

He’s still waiting for an answer though, so you give him a weak smile and nod.

“Thanks for your concern… was that all you wanted to ask me today?”

Kim Namjoon looks down for a second, the expression on his face wavering, before he clears his throat. “Actually, no. There is one more thing. It’s about the medical check-up we did last week.”

At the mention of the medical check-up, your heart begins racing, and you consciously force yourself to breathe.

“We received some information from one of the employees about your medical check-up. While having their medical check-up, they happened to see the medical form that you filled up, and the information that they came across seems to be indicating that you are not otherwise pregnant.”

Strike. Three.

The room suddenly feels like all the air has been sucked out of it. It’s hard to breathe, let alone form a conscious thought.

Kim Namjoon continues, “as you may realise, even though this concerns your private medical information, because there is a rumour that you are engaging in fraud, we are required for audit purposes to investigate this. But I wanted to give you a chance to come clean about it before we request a court order for your medical information to be released to the company officially. I trust that you understand that it would be labourious for all parties involved to go through a lawsuit like that.”

The seconds drag out, and you realise that he is waiting for your response. Your eyes dart around the room, and it occurs to you that you are trapped. There is no way to escape, no way to get out of this situation unscathed.

The jig is up, your secret is out.

“But I… the doctor…” you are tripping over your own words in an attempt to make a coherent argument against him. Something that will explain away everything.

“Give it up, Ms ______. You aren’t really pregnant, are you? You should be further along by now, but you clearly aren’t. Are you aware that you are committing fraud?” Kim Namjoon stands up and leans over the table, his stern eyes fixed on you.

“My medical records should not have been exposed like that,” you argue back, suddenly finding courage from somewhere within you. You’re not going down without a fight. “Anything that I discuss with my doctor is private and confidential. That doctor is in the wrong in the first place for just leaving my information out in the open!”

Kim Namjoon sighs deeply and massages his temples. He sits down with a heavy thud, remaining silent for a moment.

“Fine. I guess we’re doing it the difficult way then.” He pushes his chair back slightly and crosses his legs. “Let’s just say that we received a report that you may be committing fraud. In the name of the law, we are authorised to access your medical records, for investigation purposes. If you really have nothing to hide, you would have no problem letting us see those records, wouldn’t you?”

This asshole is just backing you into a corner. There are a thousand reasons why you might want to keep your medical records private, but he’s using it to accuse you of fraud.

Which you technically are committing, but still…

“Do you really want to drag this to court?” He asks quietly, mistaking your silence for fear instead of anger. “If we do that, then everyone in the company will know that you committed fraud. Your reputation will be ruined. It’ll be on your permanent record. No company will ever employ you after that, you realise?”

He leans forward again, his stare intense as his mouth sets in a firm line. “But if you just admit that you aren’t really pregnant now, and that you made it all up, we won’t have to go there. We can settle this between you and the company, reach an agreement through negotiation. It’s a win-win arrangement for both of us.”

Wait a minute. Is he really…

“Think about it for a second. Do you really want everyone to know about this?”

Well, if he puts it like that… then…

You find it hard to talk past the lump in your throat. “I…”

“All you have to say is: ‘I faked my pregnancy’. That’s all, Ms _______,” Kim Namjoon cajoles. “It’s really that simple.”

Even though you know he is manipulating you, backing you into a corner and giving you a choice between a rock and a hard place… there’s just no other way out of it. Finally, your shoulders deflate and you sink back against the chair in defeat.

“I faked my pregnancy. I’m not pregnant at all.” Your voice is smaller than it has ever been. In all your years working at this company, you don’t think any other moment will ever top this one in terms of humiliation.

“Thank you, Ms _______. You may go now. I will be in touch with you regarding the next steps.” Kim Namjoon smiles, a pointy, satisfied little smile as he stands up to show you the door. Just as you are gathering your composure and getting ready to step outside again, he hits you with another blow. “I think you should take the rest of the week off.”

“The- rest of the week?” You turn to him in surprise. “Am I… is this a suspension?”

“You could think of it as one, yes.” He clears his throat and pushes his glasses to sit higher up on his nose. “We need some time to discuss the appropriate disciplinary measures. Meanwhile, you should enjoy your time off. It was the whole reason why you invented this story, isn’t it?”

The nerve of him. You can’t even hit him, because now he has opened the door and the rest of the office would bear witness to you trying to murder Kim Namjoon. All you can do is smile tightly at him, try to keep the tears from being too obvious as you walk to your workstation, hastily pack up your things, and leave with your tail in between your legs.

*

“Everyone is talking about me at work, aren’t they?” You pace back and forth in the kitchen, wringing your hands as Jimin prepares dinner at your stove. “They will all know by now. Fucking Park Jihyo. She would have told everyone the second she left that clinic.”

“People aren’t talking about you,” Jimin says calmly, stirring the simmering beef stew.

“And I only just found out now?” Your voice rises in hysteria, hands tangled in your hair as you groan in frustration. “I’ve been walking around like a clown for the past week. They must have had a good laugh about me. I can only imagine the things they’re saying about me now-“

“______, no one has said anything about this-“

“And don’t even get me started on that fucker Kim Namjoon,” you grab the radish sitting on the counter, just because you need something to wave around for emphasis. “He practically manipulated me into making a confession. I’m pretty sure that’s called blackmailing, especially when he doesn’t even have concrete proof. You know, I should have sued that piece of sh-“

“Hey, try this piece of carrot. Is it soft enough for you?” Jimin turns to you with a ladle, expression totally calm, and it only infuriates you even more. His reaction to all of this is entirely unprecedented. You expected him to spring to your defence and storm into the office and beat that fucker to a pulp.

“How are you so calm about this?” You demand, pushing his arm away from you. “Do you not understand the gravity of the situation right now?”

“I do, and I’m anything but calm, trust me,” Jimin sighs as he puts the ladle back into the pot. “But if I freak out too, then there won’t be anyone to help you get through this. You need to stay strong to get through this. And to do that, you need to eat. You’re stressing yourself out and it’s taking a toll on you.”

He insistently offers the piece of carrot to you again, and you reluctantly open your mouth. The carrot is soft and savoury, the taste of gravy melting on your tongue. Jimin raises an eyebrow, watching you chew.

“It’s good,” you say reluctantly, feeling your aggravation slowly calm down as Jimin smiles serenely.

It’s only then that you realise how long it has been since you last ate. After leaving early, all you did was searching the internet for various HR policies, doctor-patient confidentiality laws, and even job sites. A wave of fatigue washes over you as you slowly sink into a chair, feeling lightheaded.

“You need to eat,” Jimin says again, plating up the stew in a bowl and serving rice to go with it. “You’re going to worry yourself sick at this rate.”

He sits down opposite you, hair ruffled from the long day at work, and top buttons on his white dress shirt undone. His glasses are perched on his nose, and they fog up adorably when he leans forward to take a whiff of the stew. He picks up his spoon, looking up at you with an expectant gaze, and you follow suit.

Satisfied, Jimin begins to dig in ravenously, but all you can do is watch. Your shoulders feel heavy, the nausea is back again, and the last thing you want to do is eat.

“Jimin… I can’t,” you say, setting your spoon down. But your voice is no longer angry. “I can’t stop thinking, what’s going to happen now? Am I going to lose my job? Will they sue me? I can’t- I can’t afford to lose this job, the economy is really bad now, and- “

The anxiety has you at a breaking point, and you are nearly in tears.

“Just look at me, okay?” Jimin abandons his food in favour of holding your hand. “Nothing is for sure yet. We don’t know anything. And until we hear from them, there’s no point in thinking about it. Worrying about it now means that you suffer twice. And no matter what, I’ll be by your side. Okay?”

When you don’t say anything, it prompts Jimin to get out of his seat and get on his knees beside your chair, turning you around to face him. When he sees that his words aren’t getting through to you at all, he scrambles around for something else to say. Anything that would make things better.

“What can I do? What do you need?” Jimin can only see your pain as you close your eyes, trying in vain not to cry, again. “Tell me what I need to do to make things better.”

For a moment, you can’t think of anything. But amidst all the racing possibilities of you losing your job, getting sued, and possibly never finding another job again, you just want one thing.

“I just want to stop thinking. All these what ifs… I just want them to go away,” your vision becomes blurry with tears.

“I can do that,” Jimin stands and brushes a strand of hair away from your face. He pauses for a moment so that you can see how plush his lips look, the way his lidded eyes are focused only on you, before all you know is the feeling of his lips on yours. “Just focus on me.”

He breaks the kiss a little sooner than you would have liked, only to kiss your forehead, and you stretch out your arms to him. You cling to him like a koala as he continues to kiss down your neck, swirling his tongue against your skin and wetting it with his saliva, sucking bruises into your skin as he does so. He blindly walks the two of you into the bedroom, setting you down gently before he continues to kiss down your body, pushing your shirt up so that he can see your bare breasts.

“You’re so beautiful, always so pretty for me,” he says as he cups both breasts in his hands, flicking at your nipples. This elicits a whine from you. “I love how you’re so sensitive when I play with your nipples just like this. Even better when I suckle on them.”

He wraps his plump lips around your right nipple and starts to suck, and it feels as if you’ve never had another man treat your breasts with such reverence before. Park Jimin is suckling from you as if it’s the last meal he’ll ever get, switching sides to ensure that both breasts receive equal attention.

“And I love this waist, just the perfect size for me to wrap my arms around,” Jimin drags his tongue down to your belly button, kissing and sucking your skin. “Even better to hold on to when I fuck your pretty little pussy.”

“Jimin, I-“

“I’m getting there, sweetheart. Just let me take care of you.” He smiles against your skin as he kisses lower and lower, till he is at the hem of your shorts. He pulls it down in one motion, and your thighs fall open almost immediately, desperate for his attention.

“I love the sounds you make when I eat you out. How are you this wet when I haven’t even touched you here yet?” Jimin makes it a point to let you know just how wet you are by sliding two fingers through your core, then pulling them apart to show you the strings between his two fingers. “You want me to eat your pussy?”

“Yes, fuck, I want you to eat me out,” your thighs are quivering in his grasp, and he needs no further prompting.

He starts with a flat lick against your clit, feeling you gasp and sob above him. Then he dips down for a taste of your core, alternating between licking and sucking to make sure he gets every drop of your sweetness. Two fingers spread your lips to open you up even more for him.

“That’s it, baby, look at me. Just focus on me,” he directs your attention to him, holding eye contact as he starts to eat you out again, plump lips against your pussy as he devours every inch of you. The tension in your belly heightens, and it’s all you can do to keep your eyes on him. It’s sinful to watch him eating you out like this, between your legs like a man starved. The only thoughts in your mind right now are of Park Jimin, and nothing else.

“I’m so close, please,” you plead with him. “Fingers. I need you to-“

“Shhh, I got you,” Jimin switches his attention on your clit while he buries two fingers in your cunt, and the burn feels good. “Shit, that’s tight, baby. How are you gonna take my cock?”

“Make it fit,” you widen your thighs and grind on his fingers, almost riding his tongue in the process.

“You bet I will,” he says with a dark look that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and then the rest of his efforts are dedicated to sending you over the edge. The combination of his tongue on your clit and his fingers expertly reaching your sweet spot effectively snaps the knot in your lower belly, and you clench around him with a moan, hips rising off the bed.

Jimin does not let up on your clit, he helps you to ride out your orgasm as you pant and gasp, until your legs feel boneless and the aftershocks are making them twitch.

“There we go, it’s okay… you did so well,” Jimin withdraws his fingers and sucks on them, stroking your inner thigh with his other hand. “You always look pretty when you cum.”

You close your thighs for a moment to catch your breath, feeling his soothing touch still reminding you that he’s always by your side. You know that you are far from satisfied, though, and a few seconds later, you open your eyes and sit up, glancing at the tell-tale bulge in his pants.

“Can I ride you?” You ask directly, and if Jimin is taken aback, he doesn’t show it.

“Shit, it would be my pleasure,” Jimin is all too glad to push his dress pants down, lying down with his thick thighs spread. With your help, he gets rid of his boxer briefs, and you immediately seize his cock, pumping it a few times and feeling your mouth water. When you lower your mouth towards it, he reprimands you with a tap on your ass.

“What did you ask for?” He raises an eyebrow, and though you are dying to taste him on your tongue, you can tell that he is one of his dominant moods, and it would be best not to cross him right now. “I want to see you bouncing on my cock. Now.”

You line him up with your entrance, feeling his precum make things even wetter than they already are. Jimin has his hands on your hips, not being able to resist grabbing handfuls of your ass as you lower yourself down on him. He enjoys the cute little grimace you always make when he enters you for the first time, always needing a while to get used to his girth no matter how many times you fuck.

He mostly lets you set the pace but applies a subtle pressure with his hands to guide you down on his cock. Once you reach the base, he rewards you with a kiss to the forehead before lying back down again.

“Shit, you take my cock so fucking well,” he says with pride, leaning back as he watches you start to grind your hips. Your pace gets faster very quickly, and soon you are bouncing on him sinfully, giving him the front row seat of his life.

Your cheeks are flushed, breasts bouncing as you fuck yourself on him, desperate little whines escaping your throat as you try to get him as deep as possible.

“Tell me how much you love my cock,” he demands, hands around your waist to guide your movements.

“I- I fucking love it,” you say immediately, knowing all too well his need for validation. “I love your cock so much- it feels so fucking good. Oh god, fuck, I can’t-“

“Just keep riding, baby, you can do it,” Jimin starts to thrust up into you at the same time, sensing your dipping energy levels. “My baby always does so well on my cock.”

But the previous orgasm has sucked everything out of you. You can feel it so close, but yet so far at the same time. You need this release so badly, but it’s just not enough.

“Look at me, eyes on me baby,” Jimin commands your attention, making you open your eyes as he sits up, his hand on your chin. “Just focus on me. I got you, I promise.”

And you know he’s not just referring to this moment alone.

He flips the both of you over, your hands are pinned to the bed by your head as he maintains eye contact with you, taking over and fucking into your pussy with incredible stamina and speed. He brings both of your hands above your head and secures them down with one hand, and the other slides down to rub your clit.

You can feel every inch of his cock as he pounds you into the mattress, so deep that it feels like it might even hit your womb. Jimin draws back a little so that he can wrap his hands tenderly around your waist, subconsciously stroking your lower belly gently as he fucks into you. Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist because you don’t ever want this to stop. Letting go of all control, surrendering every thought, every worry to him so that he can take care of you like this, that’s what makes everything better.

“Can you cum for me? Wanna feel you, one more time,” his voice his soft now, any edge of dominance gone now as he pushes your legs back. “Cum around me before I fill your sweet pussy.”

“Yes, please, I want you to cum inside,” you wrap your arms around him, wanting to please him so badly. His fingers on your clit are pinching and stroking as he fucks deep into your cunt, and with a shout, you are spasming around him, ecstasy singing through your veins as you let the feeling of his cock filling you full of his cum wash away any other thoughts. The feeling of his cock pulsing as your walls become sticky and warm, his gentle thrusts as he milks his orgasm for all its worth, till the last spurt of cum deep inside your pussy where it belongs.

“Oh shit, that’s my baby, taking all my cum like a good girl,” Jimin kisses your forehead fondly, pulling out of you carefully to admire his handiwork. You would tease him for his cum obsession, except that it’s grown on you too. Spreading your lips with two fingers, you clench your muscles to push out his cum, and you can feel it slowly dripping down to your entrance, until it seeps out in a thick stream.

“Fuck, looks good enough to eat,” Jimin licks his lips as he glances at you, before diving down to catch the cum on his tongue before it can hit the bedsheets under you. And he cleans your sore and swollen pussy up gently, lapping his own cum with every lick.

“Jimin…” your whine makes him stop, giving you a final kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Come to bed. I’m tired.”

Jimin can get carried away sometimes, especially when it comes to eating you out, or tasting himself on you. But at your reminder, he leaves his position between your legs and snuggles beside you, giving a cute little grin before he claps twice, and then the lights are out.

And you sink into the best sleep you’ve had in ages.

*

But good things never last, and when you next wake up, the bed is cold and empty.

Jimin must have left for work already. A single glance at the clock tells you that it is past 10am, and you sit up slowly, feeling the ache from last night. The bed is cold, the room is empty as you make the lonely tread to the bathroom. But a last-minute wave of nausea quickens your steps, and soon you are kneeling at the porcelain altar.

When you finish, wiping the back of your mouth with your hand, you are lightheaded and can barely think. Everything feels like a blur, but you didn’t even drink last night, haven’t been since you and Jimin agreed that you would let fate take its course when it comes to putting a bun in your oven.

The very thought of it makes you retch again. It’s the entire reason why you’re home and not at work in the first place, and you can’t stop feeling like a fucking fool about all this. Flushing the toilet, you force yourself onto your feet, make some attempt at washing up.

The doorbell rings, and the unprecedented visitor catches you off-guard. But it’s just the delivery man with a hefty package, and he when he sees your sick complexion and raccoon eyes, he offers to come inside and set it down on your kitchen counter.

When he leaves, you tear the box open, curious because you don’t remember ordering anything from Amazon. God, you really hope this isn’t the result of one of your drunken online shopping sessions. If you’re about to lose your job, you really don’t need another hefty bill on your shoulders.

But it’s not anything from Amazon. It’s Granny’s side dishes, from the delicious cucumber kimchi you fell in love with during your visit, to the savoury japchae that makes your mouth water as soon as you smell the sesame fragrance. There’s even a note with instructions telling you how to store everything and how to heat it up when you want to eat it. 

You don’t deserve this. Don’t deserve Granny’s kindness, when all you’re doing is just scamming her and giving her the false hope of a grandchild. Tears are brimming, and you push the box away, unable to deal with your lies at this moment. 

You head to your desk and sit down.

Because you can’t stop yourself, you click on your email- both personal and work. The first thing you see in your work email makes your nausea threaten to blur your vision.

From: Kim Namjoon (HR)

Cc: All Departments

NOTICE FOR IMMEDIATE DISMISSAL

Dear ______,

I am writing with regard to your disciplinary action regarding your act of fraud. After much discussion, we have decided that the transgression you have committed against this company have been deemed unforgivable. As a result, we have no choice but to request your immediate dismissal.

As for your one-month notice, we have decided that the monetary cost that your fraud has incurred has surpassed any compensation that you might be entitled to.  

Your termination is effective immediately.

We thank you for your service thus far.

Best regards,

Kim Namjoon

That piece of-

He cc’ed the entire company. Even though he very clearly said you could work something out with them. It was a lie all along, he never had the intention of this being a win-win arrangement. You stare at the last line of the email with growing derisiveness. Thank you for your service? What kind of bullshit-

The nausea rises up in your throat again, and you have to run to make it to the bathroom. It’s not a nice feeling to be dry heaving when you have absolutely nothing in your system, but the whole act of it takes more out of you than you realised. This is it. This is your lowest point; nothing could ever surpass it.

Your phone is ringing somewhere in your bedroom, and right now the distance between the bathroom and your bed seems insurmountable. It’s probably Jimin. God, how badly you want this to be him, so you drag yourself on all fours until your hands are scrabbling in the mess of blankets to find your phone.

But when you pick up, it’s not Jimin’s honeyed voice that greets you. It’s a cold, sterile, clinical one.

“Ms _______?”

Thrown off guard, you confirm your identity to the stranger. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think that it might be someone from the company, calling to tell you that there’s been a mistake.

It’s due time for a lucky break in your life, right?

But no chance.

“I’m calling with your blood test results from the mobile health clinic about a week or so ago.”

The health check-up that effectively ended your life? Alright.

“Um, okay. What about it?”

“Miss, did you know that you are currently pregnant?”

The world screeches to a stop. But the train of bad news crashes on.

“You indicated on your form that you weren’t pregnant. But your blood test results indicate that you are about two, nearly three weeks along now. Is this a concern that you might need to come in for?”

The white of the tiles in your bedroom suddenly look too bright. The room is spinning, and everything is moving too fast for you to catch up.

“Hello? Miss? Are you still there?”

The ringing tone of another incoming call interrupts her, and Jimin’s picture lights up on your screen.

“I… I have to go.” You press the end call button before staring at Jimin’s bright, happy smile on your phone.

The irony of the situation is the story of your life. It’s just a little too late. It’s always a little too late.

"He-hello? Jimin?”

“Baby! Are you okay? You didn’t pick up, and I was worried-” 

You can’t sit here at your desk anymore, with the email just mocking you, the reminder of your fraud hanging in the balance. So you press the phone to your ear and get up, pacing to the kitchen. But then you see Granny’s side dishes waiting on the table, and you feel even sicker. 

“How bad is it right now?” You get straight to the point.

Judging from the way he stutters, you know he is trying to scrape together a lie. And then it suddenly hits you. You involved him in this mess, and all this while you’ve only been thinking about yourself. While you were busy freaking out yesterday and needing him to calm you down, you neglected to be there for him at all. You didn’t even think if HR would have their own consequences for him.

Because you swear if Kim Namjoon touches a hair on Park Jimin’s head, you’ll kill him. 

He is saying something about some announcement made this morning that didn’t mention you specifically. You stop him before he can sweat any further about how to soften the blow.

“Jimin, listen to me. Did they- did they do anything to you?” 

“Me?” Jimin sounds taken aback for a moment. “Why would they-? No! I’m fine. Listen, baby. I thought of a way you can get out of this. We’ll just tell them it was a miscarriage. That’ll explain why you’re not pregnant, but you technically were before, so it’s not a lie, and-” 

Even in times like this, all Park Jimin can think about is you. He is selfless, and you don’t deserve him either. He sounds so hopeful about this, as if he believes it will really work. But most of all, you are reminded of how happy he looked that night at his parent’s house, when you and him decided that you would commit to having a baby together. How happy he would be if he knew that you were really...

 “-or if you want me to say it for you, I will. I’ll just set up a meeting with Kim Namjoon, and you don’t even have to come in. I just wanted to run this by you first, and-“

“No!” The knee jerk response results in you yelling over the phone. You can’t let him drag himself further into your mess any longer, you refuse to implicate him any further. But your desperation makes your voice come out harsher than you intended to, and the words just slip out. “Jimin- just… stay out of my shit, alright? You’ve done enough. I need to handle this alone.” 

There is a stunned silence over the end of the line. “We need to… we need to end this. This whole relationship is a fraud, anyway, now everyone knows and… you better go. Before they find out you’re talking to me.” You wince even as you say the words, knowing that they are not in the slightest bit true. But you need to do this, you need to separate yourself from him before the selflessness of his heart gets him into trouble trying to clean up a mess that isn’t even his. 

“I… yeah. I think I should go too.” His voice is nothing like the soft, warm kindness that you have come to associate with Park Jimin. It is cold, formal and it feels like ice shoots straight through your heart as you listen to him say the next words. “Uh, good luck with everything, then.”

And then the line goes dead. 

[originalhybridloverfics]

I Can’t Let You Disappear From My Life A Second Time - Ch 4

A/N: I want to take a moment and wish everyone Happy Holidays! I hope you enjoy this update!

“Isn’t it obvious why I am here?” Eda stepped forward. “And you? What are you doing here?”

“I know you left years ago but in case you forgot I work here,” Selin said.

“I didn’t forget but we know that’s not why you stick around,” Eda replied, eyeing Selin critically.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Selin shook her head.

“Yes, you do,” Eda stepped forward till she was toe to toe with Selin. “The last time we spoke you told me to keep my distance that Serkan had moved on. Maybe that was true but when I spoke to him last night that didn’t seem the case.”

“It is.” Selin ground out. “Serkan hasn’t spent the last five years pining after you. You're not that important.”

Eda forced a smile and nodded. “Funny, you should mention that seeing as if looks like that’s exactly what you did. Are you still waiting for him to show you just a fraction of the affection he once showed me?”

The words were harsh but Eda couldn’t help it. It took seeing Selin again at the party to realize what a snake the other woman was.

“I don’t need to wait around. I remain important to Serkan and you, you're just a memory.” Selin snapped. “You can’t come back here and expect everyone to fall at your feet.”

“Eda?”

Eda’s eyes snapped up to the top of the stairs that led to the upper floor.

Serkan stood there with a look of his surprise and she watched as his eyes lit up and his lips pulled into a slow smile.

Serkan was surprised to see her. She looked to be in a heated discussion with Selin but he didn’t care, he walked down the stairs quickly, only stopping once he was in front of her. “Eda,” he repeated and he could hear the wonder in his own voice.

“Hello, Serkan,” Eda smiled, turning away from Selin.

“What are you doing here?” Serkan asked.

“I came to see you? Do you have some time?” Eda asked. “If not I could come back ano-”

“No,” Serkan said quickly. “I always have time for you,” he gestures with his arm, motioning her forward. “Come, we will speak privately.”

Eda smiled and inclined her head. “Thank you.” She walked up the steps and Serkan followed right behind her leaving a disgruntled Selin behind.  

Serkan closed his office door behind them. “Would you like to have a seat?”

“I would,” Eda took a seat on the couch in Serkan’s office and he sat beside her. “I hope I haven’t upset you by stopping by unannounced. I wanted to speak with you and the last time I tried to reach out to you didn’t go so well.”

Serkan’s brow furrowed. “You mean last night?”

“No,” Eda shook her head. “I mean when I called you almost a year after I left for Italy.”

Serkan’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? You never called me, Eda.”

“I did.” Eda insisted. “Selin..” Eda trailed off unsure if she should tell Serkan about what she did.

“Selin, what?” Serkan sat up straighter. “What does Selin have to do with this?”

“Nothing. Let’s forget I said anything.” Eda dismissed.

“I won’t forget. Tell me.” Serkan insisted still Eda hesitated unsure how he would take it. “Eda?”

“When I called you I wasn’t in a good place. I was upset and I wanted, no, I need someone to talk to, I just wanted to hear your voice. I wanted someone who would understand but it wasn’t you who picked up the phone.” Eda explained, she fought the urge to reach up and touch the necklace she wore, her ring from him carefully hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt.

It only took a moment for Serkan to put it together, the tenseness between Eda and Selin, Eda bringing her up, Selin’s constant encouragement over the years that he had to move on with his life and leave Eda in the past.

“Selin.”

Eda nodded. “Yes, it was Selin.”

“What did she say to you?” Serkan demanded a wave of slow-burning anger was boiling inside of him.

“It’s not important,” Eda said. “Not anymore.”

“No, it is. It’s important. Anything connected with you is important. I have a right to know. You wanted to talk to me, you came here today. Talk to me, Eda.”

Eda nodded slowly, licking her lips, she could remember clearly the words Selin spoke to her because there was nothing about that day she didn’t remember. It was one of the worst days of her life.

“She told me that you were in a good place but you didn’t need me causing you more pain. She told me you let me go and moved on with your life.” Eda felt a fresh wave of pain, repeating the words Selin had spoken to her.

The words at the time she had believed. Now she wasn’t so sure they were true.

Serkan stood up, walking to the glass window that overlooked the first floor. He could see Selin standing, talking to Piril and he felt an anger he had not felt since he found out about his father’s reckless mistake that cost him everything.

Eda paused, watching him, wondering if she should tell him the rest. “Serkan?”

Serkan clenched his jaw and he turned slowly back to Eda. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Eda nodded silently. There was anger brewing in him, shining his eyes. She knew it wasn’t at her and she was glad it was not at her. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so angry.

“Say it,” Serkan said, he didn’t move away from the window.

“She told me not to call. She said if I cared about you at all that I would let you live your life without interference from the one who hurt you more than anyone. She told me to let you go.”

Serkan shut his eyes. He hated that Eda had listened to a word Selin said but she was not the one at fault here. He would not blame her.

He turned back around, looking down at Selin at the exact moment she looked at him.

He never thought it possible for him to hate someone who had been a part of his life for so long. Not since his father but he was wrong. Just looking at Selin, knowing what she did churn his stomach with revulsion.

When did she become so deceitful and selfish? When did she stop caring about anyone but herself?

Selin recoiled from his gaze and he knew she could see the anger, his hate in his expression when she looked at him.

“Serkan?” Eda said she moved to stand.

“Don’t,” Serkan turned back around. “Don’t get up. I will deal with Selin’s betrayal later. She is not important.”

He rejoined her on the couch, leaving only a few inches between them. “I believe we have some things to clear up thanks to her. I will start. I haven’t been in a good place for a very long time.”

Not since she left but Serkan would not tell her so.

“You reaching out to me could’ve changed that. If I had known you needed me that you wanted me there I would have got on my jet and come to you.” Serkan said.

Eda smiled softly. “Even after I hurt you?”

“Yes, and I’m not innocent in this. If I would have told you the truth I would have saved us a lot of pain.” Serkan said, angst.

“Yes, it would have.” Eda agreed. “Look, I came to see you because I felt our time was cut short last night and I think there is a lot between us that has gone unsaid for far too long.”

“I agree, there’s so much I want to say to you,” Serkan said but he was unsure if he should knowing she has a fiance now. What would it even change?

“It’s my fault,” Eda said suddenly. “If I had just talked with you like an adult instead of a heartbroken-”

“Don’t,” Serkan took her hand in his, ignoring the press of her engagement ring against his skin. “Don’t insult yourself. You had every right to feel what you felt then. You still do. I am just glad that you are here now.”

Eda looked down at her hand in his and then brought her eyes to his. “Still, I’m sorry for how we left things all these years.”

Serkan’s hands tightened on hers. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can,” Eda said, turning her hand over in his, holding tightly to him.

Serkan swallowed, her hand still fit in his so perfectly. It was marvelous how such a small gesture had his chest warming. It felt so right to hold her hand in his again.

The only thing he could think of being more perfect was to hold her in his arms, her scent surrounding him, her body pressed against his, her heart pounding against his chest, her lips brushing against his in the sweetest of touches.

“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” Serkan asked, he did not try to hide his hurt or his vulnerability. For years it had haunted him that Eda didn’t care about him enough to even see him one last time before leaving for Italy.

Eda felt a sharp pang in her heart, she swallowed heavily, a weight on her chest. “I was afraid.”

Serkan looked at her in surprise. He did not expect that answer. “Afraid? Of what?”

“That you would find a way to change my mind.” Eda took a deep breath. “I knew that out of everyone you were the one person who could change my mind and I didn’t want that. I wanted to get away from the pain I was feeling. I foolishly believed Italy was the answer. I was wrong.”

“Could I have really changed your mind? We were in such a bad place when you left.” Serkan’s hand tightened around hers, his thumb brushing across her soft skin.

Eda gave a small laugh. “You really had no idea how much you meant to me, did you?” she shook her head and lifted her hand to his cheek.

Serkan’s eyes widened at the intimate touch but he wasn’t about to stop her.

“I was loath to admit it then but I’m pretty sure you could have talked me into anything. You were always so persuasive and determined, the only reason I stood a chance against you was because I was more stubborn than you were. Yes, you could have changed my mind.” Eda said with certainty.

Serkan wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. If he had convinced her to stay where would they be now? Would they be married with two kids? How different could their lives have been?

Eda let her hand fall away and pulled her other one out of his grip and stood slowly.

He felt her putting distance between them and it was like a blade twisting in his heart.

“Serkan, I came here to put the past behind us and move forward,” Eda said. She needed to put distance between them because being so open and vulnerable with him had her wanting to throw her arms around him and never let go.

“Right. You wanted closure.” Serkan said.

“About the past, yes but I don’t want to say goodbye to you.” She never wanted to have to say goodbye to him again. She missed him so much.

He stood in front of her and she felt like she was dreaming but she knew she wasn’t.

“Serkan would like to go to dinner with me?” Eda asked taking Serkan by complete surprise.

“Dinner?” Serkan repeated, certain he heard her wrong.

“Yes,” Eda nodded. “Dinner.”

Serkan stood there, staring at her, his mouth parted, his green eyes intense.

Eda’s heart pounded in her chest, awaiting his answer.

Did he know she was extending her heart to him and he had the power to either shatter it or heal it with one answer?

Serkan swallowed heavily. Did Eda have any idea that there was no way he could ever deny her anything let alone this?

It suddenly didn’t matter to him that she had a fiance. It didn’t matter that she had a child. All that mattered was that she was standing in front of him asking for more of his time.

There could ever only be one answer he could give her.

He would do anything she asked of him.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments are always encouraged.

[prettyboybarzal]

tattoos together (5) // tyler seguin

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4)

pairing: tyler seguin x reader

summary: it’s the off-season and tyler is off to canada to see his fam bam!! 

(off-season in canada!! awkward friendships!!! and JAMIE BENN!!! yeehaw!)

word count: 1k+ (another shorty, but i’m trying to get to a certain point, so bare with me) ((there will be a part two to this chapter specifically, so you’ll get more off-season canada content))

author’s note: again, i’m sorry that i’m slacking with updating this. not feeling ~motivated~ so if you like this story, give me a lil holler so i know that someone’s enjoying it other than myself lol

warnings: a curse (literally i think 1 single curse?) and that’s all?? ((if you find anything else let your girl know)) 

July 2017

Tyler was satisfied with the way that you’d left things before he left LA. With the promise that everything would go back to normal, he felt okay again. And he wasn’t disappointed. For the weeks following it felt like you would talk every single day. But, as the months went by, and hockey season came to a head, Tyler started reaching out less and less.

He didn’t mean to fade from your life like that again, but things were a little hectic in Dallas. Besides, he was sure you were just as busy because you didn’t reach out any more than he did.

When the season came to an end, he booked his flights to head home for the off season. And then he booked tickets for Maisy to visit as well.

The first month at home was great. He got time in with all his favorite people, caught up with his sisters, snuggled his mom. It felt normal, until Jackie Seguin started prying.

“So, Ty,” she started as she made dinner one night. Tyler glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow, knowing where this conversation was about to go. “Have you spoken to my California girl lately?”

“Actually, no,” he answered. “Not really.”

“Well, why not?”

“Things have changed,” he told her. “Like, drastically. We’re okay now, but I don’t think it’ll ever go back to the way it was.”

“How come?”

Tyler stared at her for a moment, thinking about the proper way to answer her question. He knew that things probably could go back to normal, if he broke up with Maisy that is, but even then he wasn’t sure you even felt about him the same way he felt about you. It certainly never seemed that way.

“Because I’m with Maisy,” he stated. “And that means YN’s gotta be at an arm’s length. If Mais found out what happened between us and I was still hanging around her all the time, she’d be pissed.”

Jackie hummed in response, and then let the conversation die.

When Maisy landed a week later, Tyler and his sisters went to pick her up. They embraced her with open arms, like he expected them to, and suddenly you were pushed to the back of his mind again.

The week was spent doing all the tourist-y things during the day, and with his family at night. Maisy was great, so thoughtful about helping Jackie around the house and making sure to bond with Tyler’s sisters. He appreciated it, but it didn’t feel right. He didn’t feel right bringing her home to them, even though they’d been together for the entire season. He wished it felt right.

He dropped Maisy off a week later, kissing her goodbye before she wheeled her luggage into the airport and left him for the next two months. He drove in silence for the entire way back to his house, and disappeared to his room once he got there. Candace appeared in his doorway not long after.

“She’s sweet, but I don’t see it.”

“Huh?”

“I like her,” she said. “But you don’t light up around her. It almost feels like you’re settling.”

Candace left the room before Tyler could protest or argue with her, and Tyler sat there with all these excuses on the tip of his tongue and no one to share them with.

It was midnight when he saw a Snapchat story of you with a glass of wine, also watching Netflix. It was only 9 p.m. in California, a Friday night too, and he was wondering what you were doing in on such a nice night. So, he called you.

“Ty!” you exclaimed. Tyler’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he answered. He shuffled up to lean against the headboard. “I just miss you. My entire family has been asking about you.”

“Really? I miss them.”

The silence that followed held a lot of weight.

“You should come visit,” Tyler offered. The moment the words left his lips he was shaking his head at himself, but he kept talking. “Just for, like, a weekend or whatever.”

“Yeah?” you asked. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, I don’t know, Ty,” you murmured. “I wouldn’t want your girlfriend to feel uncomfortable.” Tyler shoulders dropped. “You understand, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I get it,” he stated. “I just miss you, that’s all. Miss how things used to be. I miss Boston.”

“You don’t miss Boston,” you stated with a laugh. “You miss being young and unattached with a super hot, emotionally unavailable best friend.”

“Did you just call yourself super hot?”

“And emotionally unavailable,” you repeated. “Gotta build myself up and knock myself back down, you know? Keep myself humble.”

Tyler barked out a laugh, which only made you giggle a little harder.

“For the record,” Tyler said, “we may not be super young anymore, but you’re still very emotionally unavailable.”

“Mmm,” you hummed. His words, however playful they may have been, were honest. You were the most emotionally unavailable in that moment, more than you had been before the Tyler fiasco. “Isn’t it past midnight for you?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Go to sleep, Segs,” you said. Tyler sighed. “Thank you for the call, by the way. I like to hear your voice every once in a while.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“If Jamie came to visit, would you come?”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you grunted to Jamie who stood beside you at baggage claim. Jamie chuckled. “It’s not a laughing matter. This is bound to make things worse between Tyler and I.”

“I don’t know how things could get worse,” he stated. “Seems like you’ve already hit rock bottom. You can only go up from here.”

You responded by slapping him in the chest before grabbing your luggage to storm outside. He was hot on your heels, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

It had been a month since Tyler asked you to visit, a month since you turned the invite down. Yet, here you were, in Canada, in the middle of July.

You stood with Jamie, in silence, waiting for Tyler’s car to pull around. When it did, Jamie nudged you roughly and you nudged him back. Tyler bounded out of the car to envelope you and Jamie in a group hug. He exclaimed, “I’m so happy you guys are here!” He pulled away to grab you by the shoulders and said, “My mom’s so excited to see you.”

“I’m excited to see her,” you responded. “And my girls. And the boys!”

“Your girls?” Jamie asked.

“My sisters,” Tyler answered. “They like YN more than they like me.”

Jamie wasn’t at all surprised by the way Tyler’s family greeted you. And all he could think about is how much it probably sucked to be Maisy. There was no way they interacted with her the way they did with you, even he could tell.

The moment you entered the house you were whisked off to have some girl talk in the kitchen, the dogs readily following the commotion. Jackie ordered Tyler to bring your luggage to the guest room and Jamie was left out to dry as well, except Jackie promised lunch after she got to chat to you.

“Your family loves her,” Jamie noted as he followed Tyler up the stairs. Tyler nodded. “I wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction for her arrival.”

“I was.”

There was a beat of silence until Jamie asked, “Do you regret this? Having her come?”

“I wish I could say yes,” Tyler responded. He placed your luggage down in the guest room and plopped down on the end of the bed. “Having her here feels like all the pieces are together, you know?”

“You shouldn’t be dating Maisy.”

“Well, I am,” Tyler said. “And I’m not going to break up with her because of some unresolved feelings I have for my emotionally unavailable friend. I’m not going through all that again just to get shot down. I’ll take what YN’s willing to give me.”

The plan was to stay for a week which was way more than you were willing to offer Tyler, but Jamie didn’t care. He wanted to go for a week, so you went for a week. The first two days were weird for you and Tyler, filled with shy glances and awkward silence. Every single time you found yourselves alone in a room, one of you left.

It wasn’t until the third day that Tyler worked up the nerve to get you alone. It was about an hour after dinner. You’d gone up to your room to get some work done, but left the door open in case anyone wanted to come distract you. Tyler walked by, shirtless with a pair of joggers on, then walked back to lean against your door frame.

“How’s work?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. You blinked at him, eyes shifting to find your California poppy near his shoulder.

“Boring.”

“Do you care if I come distract you?” he asked. You shook your head, patting the space beside you. He walked over and tossed himself down onto his back, arms laying out beside him. Poppy, star. “What are you doing?”

“Reading a manuscript that needs editing,” you answered. He nodded, shifting his body to lean his back against your headboard. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s been a year now,” he stated. “Since you started there, since you moved to California.”

Since we last kissed, you thought.

“Yeah, crazy how fast time flies by,” you noted. He nodded. “It’s funny, they actually just opened up offices in Dallas. Did you know that?”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “It’s a small office, but I think they’re hoping to really blow it up out there. Some of my coworkers have moved to be a part of it.”

“Did they ask you?”

“No, not yet,” you said. Tyler’s eyebrows raised.

“Yet?”

“Well, I don’t know if they will,” you stated. “And I don’t know if I’d accept if they did. But, yeah, they asked some people. Not me.”

You were babbling.

“If they do ask, you should,” Tyler spoke up. You raised an eyebrow at him. “You should move to Dallas, if they offer.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

You stared at each other for a moment too long, you knew that. You really wanted to kiss him, really wanted to promise him that you’d move out to Dallas if they offered. But you didn’t like promising things you weren’t sure you could keep. Eventually, Tyler sighed and swung his feet off the bed.

“Well, if they offer it,” he said. “At least entertain the idea for a little bit. At least think about it.”

“Okay,” you said. Tyler leaned in then and placed a kiss to your temple, allowing his lips to linger for a moment before pulling away. “Goodnight, Ty.”

“Goodnight.”

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 49: Desperate Measures

[Sorry for the short chapter. My computer is broken and I can’t afford to get it fixed anytime soon, so I have been writing on my phone instead. In addition, life has gotten pretty busy lately and it will probably stay that way. I will still update whenever I can.]

Our laughter dies down when I hear a noise coming from the hallway. As usual, Arthur has managed to turn an awkward conversation into an opportunity to make my sides hurt. He truly has a talent for finding the humor in every situation.

“Was that a knock?” I pant. 

He simply shrugs, so I approach the door to open it. On the other side stands Sebastian, his fist up, ready to knock again. I immediately throw my arms around him, jumping on my toes to be able to reach his broad shoulders, but soon become overwhelmed by his scent.

“Nope, bad idea,” I say, pulling away. He tilts his head as he lets go. “Human,” I point at him, and then at myself, “hungry leech. You smell delicious, no offence.”

“None taken,” Sebastian smiles. “We can catch up later, le Comte wants to see you,” he informs me before moving out of the way. I nod and hurry out, followed by Arthur. “He’s in his study.”

We part ways in the hallway, the two men leaving together in the opposite direction. I arrive to find le Comte’s door wide open. I lean on the frame and knock to catch his attention.

“Bonjour” I playfully greet him, making him look up from a book.

“Welcome back, ma chérie,” he says, standing up. 

After we exchange two kisses on the cheek, he gestures toward the fireplace. I have been here enough times to know he wants me to sit, so make myself confortable on one of the armchairs as he does the same, across from me. 

“So... I know you lied about how the door works.” Le Comte looks worried for a second, but quickly regains composure. “Don’t worry, I get why you did it. I met a friend of yours,” I begin before extending my arm over my head. “About this much taller than me, red eyes, white hair?”

“Vlad is here? I had my suspicions, but I did not think he would have the nerve to show up in Paris,” he muses. “I take it you know about his plans, then.”

“Mhm. Did you know William is working for him?”

“No, I had no idea. I might have to have a word with him,” he adds sternly. “How did you find out?”

“The ball. He had introduced me to Salieri before, and seemed pretty amused by his misunderstanding,” I answer. “At the time I didn’t know who he was, but Antonio was convinced that Mozart and I were a couple. William just added wood to the fire.”

“I don’t understand, ma chérie. You still decided to go live with him?” he asks, confused.

“It started with me not wanting any of you to see me in that state... you know, practically feral, and all. And then I thought I could make something useful our of this little vacation,” I explain. “So I’ve been keeping an eye on him, seeing what I could find out. Which leads me to Vlad. I was introduced to him just a couple hours ago and found out about his plans to conquer the world or whatever. He was... charming,” I conclude sarcastically, rubbing my neck. Though the hand shaped marks have mostly faded, it is still sore from his strong grip.

In a manner completely uncharacteristic of him, le Comte pries my hand away, revealing the faint, finger shaped bruises on my neck. His face contorts into a mask of pure rage, his eyes growing darker, as he abruptly stands up and begins marching towards the door. Luckily, I manage to shoot up and catch the hem of his jacket as he walks past me.

“Sit the fuck down,” I order, pulling on his clothes. He glances at me, still looking furious, and I grab his arm and push him backwards onto his seat. “I am not done here.”

“Forgive me, Anaïs,” he mutters before taking a deep breath. That seems to calm him. “I could hardly contain myself when I saw you have been hurt.”

“It’s nothing, but thank you for caring,” I wave away his concern with a smile. “Anyway, he built his own door and traveled to the future, which horrified him so much he has now decided that humanity doesn’t stand a chance without vampire rule. But you probably already knew this.” le Comte nods slowly. “The point is, I figured out when exactly he traveled to. He ended up in the middle of World War Two. No wonder he’s traumatized,” I chuckle. 

“That explains a lot,” he says. “We have been friends for a very long time, Vlad and I. I’d say around a millennium, even. A couple centuries ago, he disappeared. When I met him again, he was... strange. He had changed,” he narrates. “He told me he had built his own door, and that it did not work properly. He also mentioned seeing the future. I believe that is when he started turning new vampires to achieve his goal.” The nostalgia in le Comte’s voice shifts to something akin to regret. “I tried to talk him out of it, to no avail, and we had a falling out. That was the last time I saw him.”

“We both know more about the future now, so maybe talking him out of it is still an option,” I chime in. “When he described his experience, I told him I was born long after that. I explained how much better things are in my time, and why his plan would never work, but he didn’t believe me. Comte, do you think he would keep his word, even after what he went through?” I suddenly ask.

“Vlad is many things, but he is not a liar,” he sombrely assures me. “I trust that aspect of him has not changed.”

“Good,” I smirk.

“What do you have in mind, ma chérie?” he inquires when I get up and make my way around his desk. On a loose leaf of paper, I quickly scribble a note, which I hand to le Comte. “I want to offer you a deal. Allow me to prove you wrong. Meet me Sunday at 9 in your shop to negotiate the terms,” he reads out loud. “Shop? What shop?”

“He sells flowers in town. I don’t have the address but William probably knows where it is.”

“Does he also know what he is helping Vlad do?” he asks. I shake my head.

“I don’t think so. You know how much of a shit stirrer he is, I’m willing to bet he’s just in it for the drama,” I state, rolling my eyes. “I have gotten to know him better over the past week, and I sincerely doubt he would be okay with what Vlad is planning. As far as I can tell, he just knows about the vampires he has recruited. Speaking of-” I remember, “he has two trusted minions. Faust the alchemist-slash-crazy scientist, and Charles. I have no idea who the latter is, just that he is French.”

“Interesting...” he mutters. “Tell me about this deal.”

“I was thinking of showing him the future. Grant him access to your door, and in exchange he has to stop his pursuit for power. What do you think?”

After a moment of thoughtful silence, le Comte shifts in his armchair. He leans forward, caressing his chin as if he had a beard.

“It is risky...” he quietly says. “Are you sure you can convince him?”

“I can and I will. Whatever it takes.”

Le Comte nods slowly, pondering my proposal. He stares at me, brows furrowed in concentration, as I suddenly feel as if his piercing golden eyes could read my mind. I return the gaze with as much confidence as I can reflect back to him. Unless he has a better idea, this is our only chance, and I intend to make it work no matter what.

“In that case...” he finally says, leaning back, “I shall aid you as best as I can and provide anything you need, ma chérie. However, I am not sure about letting him into the mansion. I need some time to think about how that would work.”

“Thank you Comte, I understand. Oh, one more thing,” I quickly add. “Do not tell anyone about this, especially William. If Vlad suspects anything he will kill me.”

“Then why did you tell me about his involvement?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. I shrug.

“You have a right to know,” I simply state, standing up. “Besides, you’re a good liar. Just keep that up and we’re all set, I’ll handle the- Rouge. I need rouge.”

Distracted by the sudden pang of hunger, I shuffle away, mumbling to myself as I count the time that has passed with my fingers. Roughly three and a half hours before I even felt anything, and I have not gone mad yet. That is a personal best.

I stroll into the kitchen sporting a proud grin. I reach over Sebastian’s shoulder for a bottle of rouge, leaning heavily on his back. He turns around, surprised, but I shush him before he can say anything and proceed to down the entire bottle in one go.

Once I am sure there is nothing left, I put it down on the counter with a deep breath before holding onto Sebastian’s shoulder once again. This time, I propel myself up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you miss me?” I ask coyly.

“How could I not?” he laughs. “Although the flowers probably miss you a lot more, I’ve been too busy to take proper care of the garden.”

“Oh, Seb, I am so sorry about that...” My apology is genuine, accompanied by a  gentle squeeze on his arm. “Sorry I left so suddenly. Should have at least warned you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles. “You’re here now. I saw you packing before, do you need help carrying all that?”

“I can ask someone else. I’m sure you’re busy enough without me helping out.”

“I am not too busy to listen. What is it like?” he suddenly asks, pulling a stool from under the kitchen isle. 

“What?”

“Living with Shakespeare! I want to know everything.”

“Oh,” I laugh. 

I sit on the counter, letting my legs dangle beside him as he looks up at me, his brown eyes impatient and full of wonder, almost like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

“Well, he wakes up super early, which as you know I am not very good at,” I humor him. “We spend most days in rehearsal with his troupe. They’re pretty cool. Uh... I’ve also been caring for his little vegetable patch that he keeps in the garden to feed the-”

“Puck, yes?” he interrupts me, making me look down.

“Seriously?” I snort. “You’re taking notes? Man, and I thought William was creepy.” I nudge Sebastian with my foot as I tease him. My voice drops to a whisper when a thought occurs to me. “Do you keep those on everyone? Oh my God, have you been taking notes about me?”

“No! Of course not,” he exclaims, unconvincingly shaking his head. I stare at him. “Okay, fine, don’t look at me like that! When I said I came here to study historical figures up close, I meant it.”

“Can I see?” I don’t wait for him to answer before I take the notebook from his hands. My eyebrows rise higher with every page of diligently detailed information I flip through. “Aw, you do have one about me. Adorable.”

“How do you think I’ve kept track of your schedule the past month?” he chuckles. “I only started writing that when it became clear you were planning to stay. Too bad I have no use for that cordon bleu recipe now...”

“Whoah, stop right there. You know full well I will travel from the Moon if I have to just to taste those ‘libritos’ again,” I state with as much seriousness as I can muster, which, frankly, isn’t much. A self sufficient smile grows on Sebastian’s lips.

“I know.” 

[huntertales]

Part One: Life Isn’t A Book. (Slumber Party S09E04)

Episode Summary: The reader and the boys call in I.T. expert Charlie Bradbury to help track fallen angels with technology found in the Men of Letters bunker. However, they soon discover something more in the form of the one and only Dorothy from Wizard of Oz. Everyone joins forces to take down the Wicked Witch and her evil plans. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader  Word Count: 4,038.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Like any other day when you weren’t working on a case, you sat in the war room with your laptop wide open and several files you grabbed from the archives spread around you. For the past hour you had been diligently working on a project while Dean left early this morning on a trip with Kevin. It had been just you and Sam in the bunker ever since, however you noticed he disappeared a few minutes ago without a verbal reason. You didn't think much of it before going back to your work, reading up on a file that you thought might have been the thing you were looking for. Before you could get a definite answer, you found your gaze lifting up from the paper and to what was in front of you after you heard approaching footsteps.

You raised your brow slightly in curiosity at what you saw the younger Winchester holding. It was a piece of blank paper and a black crayon. What he could have possibly needed it for, how or he even got a crayon in the first place, made you chuckle to yourself in amusement and catch the man’s attention. Sam stopped at the table and gave you a slightly confused expression as to what was so funny to you. 

“Are you off to draw me a pretty picture, Sammy?” You cracked a joke with the man. He lifted up the hand that was holding the black crayon in one hand, the blank paper in the other when he figured out that’s what you were focusing on. “What’s with the arts and crafts?”

"I'm gonna go talk to Crowley. See if he's willing to give us anymore names." Sam said. It sounded good in theory, but the younger man's plan made you lean back in the rolling seat and give him a hesitant look. "And obviously it'd be stupid to give him something that he could hurt us with, so...I improvised." 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” You wondered. “I mean, the only reason why Crowley gave us names in the first place was because Kevin beat the crap out of him. That’s the equivalent of getting off to a demon like him.” 

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll throw us a bone.” Sam said. He could see the confliction in your initial plan of how you wanted things to go. You wanted to let the demon sit in his own personal thoughts in the dungeon for long as you could, using what he had confessed back at the church to your own advantage. You wanted to push him to the point where he was almost desperate for any kind of interaction he would sing off every name he had up in that up in that brain. “What’s the worst thing that could happen? He gives us some side remarks?”

You quietly tapped your pen against the notepad you had next to you and bit your bottom lip. After a few seconds of deliberating you dropped your pen down to the table. Sam was right. There wasn't much you had to lose. The both of you headed down to the dungeon where Crowley had been sitting down by his lonesome for the past several days in complete darkness. Sam moved the shelves that were the makeshift doors to the secret room, the demon was blinded by the lights you turned on to see your way around without stumbling. You made your way inside first, greeting the demon with a smile as his eyes adjusted to the brightness he wasn't used to seeing.

"Hello, Kitten. Moose." Crowley welcomed you with the usual nicknames. Sam walked over to the table you provided for him and set the piece of paper and crayon down. The demon stared at the materials for a moment before back up to you. An amused look crossed his face at what you were asking from him. "You want more demon names." He suspected the reason why you were here in the first place after days of abandonment. The demon reached over and grabbed the piece of paper, only to crumple it up into a ball. "I want a room with a view." 

You and Sam exchanged a glance from the demon's demands you were expecting to hear at some point. Crowley thought you were desperate enough to give into any sort of his personal whims, or you were going to entertain a conversation with him. You felt a smirk spread to the ends of your lips, Sam chuckled in amusement. You followed behind the younger man when he began to make his way out, showing Crowley what you were going to do until he cooperated. You hoped something like solitary confinement would work on someone like Crowley, who found torture and threats nothing but something to do on a Friday night. So, you were going to do the opposite to him. No human contact. No entertainment. Nothing.

You didn't say goodbye to the demon before you made your way to the door and flicked off the lights, engulfing the room into darkness once more. The demon sank down into his seat when he heard the door slam shut, leaving him alone once more for who knows how long. 

You and Sam went back to work for a little while after giving Crowley some time to think about his limited options that he had left to participate. Sam sat across from you as he skimmed through some files you found in the archives you hoped might have been helpful for the project you had been working on all morning. The sight was no surprise to see when Dean arrived back from his trip. You looked up to see your boyfriend standing on top of the staircase after announcing his safe arrival back from the squeaky hinges of the metal door. 

"Hey." Sam greeted his brother, looking up from the case file after finishing up a sentence he was reading. "How'd it go with Kevin?"

Dean let out a sigh from the strange car ride he endured on his way to Missouri. "Oh, that little nerd is in a lovely warded motel room in Branson. He's got about forty-eight hours of pay-per-porn and Kenny Rogers ahead of him."

"How's he feeling?" You asked, curious to see how the kid was handling himself after being granted a much needed vacation a few states away from his problems. 

"Well, he stared at the angel tablet and repeated the word 'falafel' for the entire ride. Kid's cracked. I'm hoping this break will clear his head." Dean gave a small update on the prophet, making you start to worry about his dwindling mental state. Ever since you heard about his attempt at flying the coop you had been trying to keep an extra eye on him. Everyone was on high alert. You were stressed out of your mind, and it seemed Dean could sense all of you needed to pump the breaks. "You know, after everything that happened, I figured we could use a little break ourselves." 

"Really?" You asked, the tone of your voice shifting into pleasant sounding from what he was suggesting. "What were you thinking?"

"I picked you two up season one of 'Game of Thrones.'" Dean opened up the plastic bag from a store he stopped by on his way home and read off the title of the DVD he bought. "Figured we'd get a little takeout." 

"All right. Before we embark on a ten episode binge," You changed the subject to the project you had been working on during his absence away. "I think Sam and I might have found a way to help Cas." 

Dean glanced up from the details he was reading about on the back of the DVD and to you, suddenly appearing to be concerned. "Did you talk to him?"

"No. And by the way, I still don't understand why he left in the first place. I mean, the bunker is the safest place for him." You said. The reason Cas had given you before bolting still made you scratch your head. He was all for getting himself settled in here, and the next he was out the door without a proper goodbye. None of it made sense to you. "Bartholomew and who knows how many other angels are out there, gunning for him." 

"Hey, look, nobody wants him here more than I do, okay? But he felt like he'd bring trouble down on us, so he had to split." Dean's excuse made you look at him with slight disbelief. It sounded phony to you. You had faced plenty of danger in your lifetime and caused trouble with the wrong kinds of people. You could handle some angels, Dean didn't entertain your opinion for long as he threw his jacket to the table after taking it off. "But if you got a way to help him, I'm all ears."

"All right. So, Kevin said the table lit up like a Christmas tree when the angels fell, right?" You summarized the details about what happened that night. Dean nodded his head, seeming to be on the same page as you as you continued on with your theory. "So it turns out each light was where a cluster of angels fell. So I'm thinking maybe there's some way to hot-wire this, make it track angels. That way, we could help Cas steer clear of danger."

"This was...both of your ideas?" Dean looked between you and his brother, acting as if there was a third person here you were trying to steal the credit from out under them. 

You glanced around the room, your lips stretching into a small smile from how he was acting all of a sudden. "Actually, it was mine. Sam's been helping me out." You explained better to him. He looked over to his brother, as if he didn't believe you. "Do you see anyone else in here, Dean? Sometimes I do come up with good ideas."

"That wasn't what I..." Dean stopped talking when he saw you lean back in your seat, wondering exactly what he was going to say. He veered the conversation to where it belonged before he could get any more of his foot into his mouth. "So, how would it work?"

"Oh, no idea. See, at first, we thought the table was the computer, but it's not. It turns out it's just part of it. But Y/N found these cables underneath and we followed them." Sam told his brother the details you and him found extraordinary from the things you were learning about the place. Along with a history lesson on technology dated well over seventy years ago. Sam leaned out of his seat and pointed a finger to a set of red wires that disappeared into an air vent and broke out into a smile. "You're never gonna believe what we found."

The three of you headed to a part of the bunker you hadn't been to before yet. You discovered almost every chance you got. Over the months you had lived here you didn't have much time to go digging around the place, however you were given the perfect opportunity to discover what you guessed was the electrical room, filled with all sorts of different machines you had no clue did what just yet. The sight for someone like you and Sam put you at awe from the history that was under your nose. All around you was electric panels with the center of the room taken over by a dated machine with too many buttons and red lights you had been trying to figure out what they did.

"Volia." You gestured an arm to the scenery around you, stepping deeper inside the room with the boys following behind. 

"This is a computer?" Dean asked. He examined the outdated technology for a moment, still not exactly sure what he was looking at. 

"Yeah—or it was in 1951, when it was first installed. Now, here's the crazy thing. It's not plugged into anything. I mean, Y/N and I tried to figure it out." Sam said. You could hear the fascination in his voice, same as how he was when you discovered the room for yourself and showed him. "We have no idea what's making this thing work." 

Dean walked over to the back of the computer to take a better look at the thing you were working with. He placed his hand out and pressed it against the machine, his brow raised slightly when he felt warmth against his skin. It meant the thing was still working after these years, and even after the map went off. "It's warm here."

Dean found what appeared to be a flat screwdriver sitting on a nearby shelf that looked like it would be good enough to help him rip off the back panel and inspect the machine from the inside. He shoved the tool between a small crack and then began to slowly put pressure on the screwdriver, trying to jimmy the piece of metal free. When he noticed how much resistance he was getting, Dean put all of his strength into trying to get the thing to go free. He ended up stumbling back after the panel popped off and dropped to the ground with a noisy bang. He accidentally hit the shelf right behind him, and while the contents slightly shook, nothing fell. Dean pushed himself back up to a standing position, trying to pretend like nothing happened.

"Got it." He said. 

"Ya think?" You muttered. You crouched down and inspected the inside of the computer you hoped you might be able to understand if you got a peek inside. You quickly realized you had no idea what you were looking at. Sam pulled out a small flashlight from his back pocket to help give all of you a better look at what you were working with. "Huh. This isn't exactly what I was expecting."

"Well, that looks simple." Dean noted, sarcasm clear in his tone. "Does it come with a manual?"

"Nothing in the archives, and Y/N obviously couldn't find anything like it online," Sam said, telling his brother about the bump in the road you had been faced with. The both of you were pretty tech savvy. But even for you this was near impossible to figure out. "Not to mention I'm pretty sure that the Men of Letters doesn't have I.T. support anymore, either." 

"I think I know somebody who could help us." Dean said. "Come on." 

You and the boys headed out of the room and flipped off the lights, making your way back to the main area of the bunker to make a call to a friend you hadn't seen in a few months. However you didn't realize when Dean stumbled into the shelf there was something hiding back there in a clear glass jar. A pale grey goo that held something sinister for over seventy years. What you unleashed was something almost out of a book. 

+ + +

A little later into the day was when Charlie Bradbury, your favorite LARPer and tech genius, arrived in Lebanon safely after you gave her a call about the trouble you were facing. And only someone like her could come to your rescue. You didn’t realize she had arrived, distracted by Dean when he surprised you with a cup of coffee after he put a fresh pot on. And exactly the way how you liked it. You smiled in appreciation and mumbled a thank you, sneaking a quick kiss when he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, thinking you had a minute before a certain some made her arrival. 

“Hey. Get a room you two.” The both of you broke away and looked up to see Charlie was here, Sam following behind as they made their way down the stairs. “There’s my favorite lovebirds.”

“And there’s my favorite redhead.” You joked back with her. You placed down your cup to the table and got up from your seat to welcome her, pulling the young woman into a tight hug after Dean greeted her first. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. Sam and I tried figuring it ourselves, but we're stumped. Dean thought our favorite I.T. tech would be able to come to our rescue." 

"Not a problem." Charlie gave you a smile of appreciation when you thought of her. You watched as it faded away when she finished her sentence, dropping a bit of bad news you weren't expecting to hear. "especially since I got fired last week." 

"Hey, what?" Sam was surprised at hearing this. He placed her overnight bag down on the table next to him. "What happened?"

"Turns out the company I work for was outsourcing to child labor, so I took a big Wikileak all over that." Charlie was a fighter behind the screen. While it wasn't technically legal, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips after hearing what she had done, adding a playful wink of approval. "And, yeah. It's cool, though. It's given me more time to focus on my hobbies...like larping, macrame," she listed off a few of her favorite things you learned she liked from the first time you formally met her months back. She tried slipping one more in, hoping you and the boys wouldn't notice. “...And hunting.” 

"Excuse me?" You were taken off guard by hearing what she had been doing in her free time. Part of you wanted to be disappointed at the danger she was putting herself in. Someone like you, who had been doing this for almost a decade, knew the mental toll that took on you after a while after you glossed over the dangers of cutting your life short. But Charlie was here in one piece, and her bubbly self. Dean was alarmed and Sam appeared to be taken back at her step towards the lifestyle.

"Okay. It was a couple of little cases. I took down a teenage vampire and a ghost." She tried to explain herself while you and Dean stared at her with a scolding expression that reminded her of her parents. You had your brow raised like how her mother used to while Dean stood behind you with his hands on his hips. The disapproval was written all over your face. You wanted better things for her. But you couldn’t deny the temptation of the lifestyle. "Which sounds like a Y.A. novel if you say it out loud." 

"Charlie," Sam spoke the young woman's name, breaking her concentration away from your face and over to him. All of you were more concerned at how she was handling herself after getting a taste of danger by herself. "How'd it go?"

"It was, uh...it was intense. But I kind of wish hunting was more...magical, you know?" You let out a heavy sigh as Dean rolled his eyes from the young woman's perception of how she thought hunting was always going to be. She realized you weren’t amused as you were, causing her smile to fade away and focus on the reason why she was here in the first place. “Nevermind. So, where is this commodore sixty-four of yours?”

All of you headed down to the electrical room where you showed her the piece of machinery she would be working with. You weren’t sure if she was going to be able figure out something like this considering how dated it was. When she caught sight of the computer, Charlie’s face lit up like a kid in a candy store, she rushed over to inspect the beauty for herself. You and the boys watched as she took a minute to inspect what she could to get a better understanding of what you were about to ask of her. She crouched down to the ground to inspect the inner workings as you leaned over every so often when you heard her mumble something underneath her breath. ‘

“Sweet Ada Lovelace. This thing belongs in a museum. I mean, it’s got encryption software. It seems to be powered by something magical.” Charlie listed off a few of the things she figured out on her own after taking a peek around at the inner workings. Dean was fascinated as much as he could, but he pushed her along to the end, wanting to know what it really did. “It’s kind of an alarm system. Global badness? It freaks. This computer is what locked this place down.”

“Can we use it to track angels?” Sam asked.

You knew what you were asking from her was a lot from such dated technology. Charlie thought about the task for a second or two before she decided the challenge was something she was up to. She cracked her knuckles and grew a smirk. "All right. Let me see what I can do.”

Charlie worked her magic and figured out a system that would work. You and the boys watched as she tinkered with the insides for a little while and pulled out some wires and pulled in a few cords into an outlet. Soon enough she grabbed her tablet and began to tap the screen, finishing the final task. “All right. It took some doing, but now we can download. This beast has all the Men of Letters files. Time for a little drag-and-drop.” 

“Wow. It’s a start. Thank you. That’s great.” You were very much thankful for the hard work she had put in. While you were grateful, there was something else you and the boys wanted to try and discuss now that you had a minute free. Dean urged you to get the ball rolling when he gently nudged you in the side with his elbow. “So, you’ve been hunting. Alone.” 

“I know. Not a good idea, according to the ‘Supernatural’ books.” Charlie rolled her eyes from her amature moves that she should’ve known better after reading all the series, treating them as if they were a guide. You grimaced at the mention of those things you tried to avoid much as possible.

“You really can’t delete those from the internet?” Sam couldn’t help himself but ask, making you give him a slightly confused look. He seriously thought those things were still underground with no popularity to attract mainstream attention. Everything was digital these days. And so were those books. No matter what, they were going to haunt you forever.

“Not even I can do that.” Charlie said. “Come on.” 

“Where do you even find them?” Dean asked. 

“A top secret place I call Amazon.” You replied back to the man. While your tone of voice was serious, the sarcasm was clear enough for him to give you an amused expression. “Seriously. Get used to it. They’re gonna be in our lives forever.”

“And someone uploaded all the unpublished works.” Charlie added on to the disaster. You let out a frustrated sigh at the mention of the tale that went on farther than the finale where you and Dean died and went to hell. You would have been fine with that. For a moment you thought it might have been Chuck who uploaded his own work, but the culvert who did it was someone close to him. And was the biggest fan of it all. “I thought it was fanfic at first, but it was clearly Edlund’s work. Their screen name was BeckyWinchester176. Ring any bells?”

“None. Uh, nobody’s. Uh, no, there are no bells. Uh...no.” Sam stumbled his way to an answer. You tried your hardest to keep a smile from going when you saw him become flustered at the mention of someone who had been obsessed with him. Dean stared at his brother, slowly shaking his head from his behavior. 

“Ugh, these files are encrypted. This is gonna take a while.” Charlie said. While she was going to be here for longer than intended, she decided to make use of the time by having a little fun. “So, takeout, sleepover, braid each other’s hair?”

Sam suddenly got hit with a plan that everyone would enjoy. “I got an idea.”

[Next Part]

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[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 3, daily life (Part 3)

Note of the author: I legit finished this chapter a few days ago but I wanna keep a regular update schedule.

Day 11 since the beginning of the game. 8:00 AM.

The morning announcement played, waking up Shuichi.

The motive the monokubs gave them was still on his mind. Even though the disease was very unpractical, why would anyone kill because of it?

He shook his head. Perhaps he could try to visit Rantaro after breakfast.

After getting dressed up, he left his room to go to the dining hall.

Almost everyone was already here, not counting the ‘hospital team’.

“Hey there! Did you sleep well?” Miu asked him.

Shuichi hummed, still a bit tired. “How are the others?”

“I gave the hospital team breakfast and they looked fine according to Rantaro.” she replied.

“And what about him?”

She sighed. “He says he’s fine but he looks really tired. I told him to get some sleep but he says he ‘already took a nap’.”

She clearly didn’t believe him. He probably lied so he wouldn’t be scolded by an overprotective Miu.

Who knows how much longer this is going to last. They could only hope the Monokubs would give them a break.

They finished breakfast in silence.

Shuichi decided to pay a visit to Rantaro.

After going to the fourth floor, he realized he didn’t hear a thing. He approached the corridor with the three rooms and noticed him sleeping on a chair. Or so he thought, because the medic immediately opened his eyes and turned to him.

“Hey there. Did you sleep well?” Rantaro asked.

Shuichi blinked. “Yes, what about you? You did have to take care of the others, did you even sleep?”

He chuckled. “Yes, yes I did. Well sort of. I’m pretty much trained to keep myself in a half-sleeping state. Of course it doesn’t help me rest as much as normal sleeping but at least I can keep an eye on those three in case something goes wrong.”

Shuichi was still a bit worried. “Are you planning on sleeping on a chair until the disease disappears?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll keep up alone for more than week at most. But I don’t think Monokuma will let us do nothing for an entire week. So either he’ll try to put a stop on the illness or...”

He trailed off, then sighed. “Please keep an eye on the others for me, okay?”

Shuichi nodded. “Count on us.”

By the sound of his voice, Rantaro really felt powerless over the situation. Of course he volunteered to take care of the patients, but he sounded almost sure that something was going to happen to the rest of the group.

Shuichi wanted to say everything was going to be okay, but seeing how he was right the last time he said something similar, he could only prepare for the worst.

He left the fourth floor, a part of him still hoping things would go their way.

Just as he entered the dining hall, he noticed Himiko talking to Miu, the former looking visibly worried.

“Listen, I know you’re worried about him and it’s really nice of you to go check on him, but Rantaro told me there’s still a risk if you stay in the corridor 10 hours of the day.” Miu said, arms crossed, a disappointed look on her face.

The petite girl slammed her palms on the table. “But I can’t leave him like this! He isn’t taking any of this well and I’m the only one he listens to!”

Shuichi felt like he came at the wrong moment.

Miu turned to him. Her gaze screamed “Help me. Please.”

He approached the two. “What... Happened?”

“Himiko stays way too much time in front of Kokichi’s door and Rantaro is worried there might be risks she gets the disease.”

“You guys don’t understand anything! You haven’t... You... He...” Himiko trailed off. “... He constantly panics about what the disease does to him... To them and to us... I try to tell him that everything’s okay but he says he can’t help it...”

Shuichi hummed, trying to think of a solution.

“Whenever Kaz felt sad or was made fun of at school, I cooked him a batch of cupcakes. It never failed to cheer him up.” Miu muttered, voice low. However she had a weak, nostalgic smile on her face.

“Cupcakes?” Himiko raised an eyebrow.

“Good idea! You two could make some, right?” Shuichi smiled.

The street artist crossed her arms confidently. “Walls aren’t my only canvas you know?”

“You know how to make cupcakes??” the astronomer asked her with wide eyes.

Miu laughed. “You underestimate me, twinkle! I’m more than capable of baking cakes!”

Himiko suddenly jumped to get to only a few centimetres from her face. “Then teach me!!”

Miu instinctively backed off. “Sheesh, twinkle! You’re determined aren’t you?”

Himiko’s gaze was intense, even though she wasn’t exactly intimidating.

Miu blinked a few times, then raised her hands like she was surrendering. “Alright, alright. You got me.”

She stood up and scratched Himiko’s head. “It’s decided! You’re coming with me and we’ll do the best cupcakes spooky boy has ever tasted!”

“Spooky boy?!?”

“What, you got a better nickname?”

“I just call him Kichi!”

“That’s a ‘you’ problem, I’m sticking to spooky boy!”

The two cheerfully bickered, Miu dragging Himiko to the kitchen. Shucihi smiled. It looked like the problem was solved.

Shuichi wasn’t really in the mood to do much this morning. He more or less knew what the others were doing.

Angie was finally talking to Kiyo in the courtyard.

Kaito and Keebo were once again in the warehouse for an attempted maintenance.

Kirumi was in her lab, probably making sure everything was still in place.

And finally, Miu and Himiko were baking their cupcakes.

He decided to go to his own lab to play some violin.

Stepping in the room was enough to make him feel guilty.

After all, his last audience consisted of both Kaede and Maki, who were now together in the afterlife.

He looked at the spot the two were sleeping at only a few days ago. Maki was resting on Kaede’s shoulder, their hands intertwined. They felt peaceful back then.

And then Maki, out of desperation accidentally killed Kaede when her goal was to make the two of them escape.

As much as he told himself this wasn’t his fault, the guilt wouldn’t go away. They had sent Maki to her death. A brutal death, that is.

He shook his head and grabbed the violin to try and make those thoughts go away.

Several music sheets were scattered across the floor. Was he always that messy?

He took one that was isolated from the rest and read the title.

“Autumn by Vivaldi... Why not?”

He placed the sheet on the desk, made sure the door was closed and started playing.

Playing violin was very relaxing, and Shuichi understood why Kaede was writing so much in her notebook when she was stressed.

When he finished the song he exhaled a deep breath and opened his eyes. He just needed the first few notes to remember the whole song, so not looking at the sheet wasn’t much of a problem.

He suddenly turned to the bench in front of him.

Kirumi was sitting here, silent. She clapped her hands once his eyes landed on hers.

“H-How long have you been watching?” Shuichi asked nervously.

“Not so long, do not worry. I was headed to the fourth floor to ask Rantaro if he had any preferences for lunch and I heard you playing so I thought I could pay a visit.” she replied, standing up. “You have a wonderful talent Shuichi. This really was pleasing to the ears.”

Shuichi blushed a little and scratched the back of his neck. “T-Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I shall head to the fourth floor, but I look forward the next time you play a song.”

The violinist chuckled. “I don’t have much to do, so I’ll probably stay here for a while.”

“Well, Miu and Himiko are using the kitchen if I’m correct, so I might as well stay here when I’m done checking on the hospital team. If it doesn’t bother you of course.” she fiddled with a lock of hair.

“No, not at all! It’s just that I’m a bit surprised you like my music.” he shook his head.

Kirumi briefly smiled. “You are not the ultimate violinist for nothing, Shuichi.”

She left the lab to check on the others, as she said.

A few minutes later she came back, as Shuichi was going through different music sheets.

“You know, I had heard your name several times during my missions.” she explained.

“Huh? Really?”

She nodded. “Of course you never were the target some were paying me to kill. But I heard several times your name from high-ranking clients and targets.”

She let out a dry laugh. “Some of them joked about how I shouldn’t kill a violin legend like you even for an extremely high amount of money. Hypocrites.”

This sent a shiver down his spine. Even if Kirumi claimed no one wanted his death, the fact that the ultimate mercenary had the same clients as him was disturbing, to say the least.

“I see... Wait ‘hypocrites’?” he asked her.

“Those people are literally asking me not to kill someone for money and then pay me hundreds of thousands of yens to see their target dead.” Kirumi continued.

Shuichi had some trouble understanding her intentions.

“Um... If it’s not too personal... Why did you start this job?” he asked.

Kirumi’s expression didn’t change, but it was clear she wasn’t going to answer. “Unfortunately I can’t give you the full details for your safety. All I can tell you is that I wasn’t born in the best place in order to live a normal life.”

Shuichi nodded.

The two continued to switch between violin music and discussions about various topics, but avoiding talking about Kirumi’s life.

He didn’t want to know what would happen if he knew more about her, he just knew the consequences would not be pleasant for him.

-

Around noon, the others reunited to the dining hall to eat.

Miu and Himiko had finished the cupcakes, and from what Himiko said, Kokichi was confused at first because he didn’t know what a cupcake was, but was very grateful for the gesture.

Angie finally talked about her issues to Kiyo. However the therapist decided to keep those informations for himself, but assured Shuichi that things were going okay.

Keebo was still glitching from time to time, but Kaito managed to help him maintaining himself for the time being.

Afternoon came and as usual, the others went their own ways.

Angie decided to spend the afternoon locked in her lab doing sculpture.

Kiyo and Kaito were talking in the courtyard.

Keebo and Kirumi were in the latter’s lab to relax.

Himiko was again in front of Kokichi’s door.

Miu was walking around the casino, so Shuichi joined her.

“What’s up? You here to play?”

Shuichi shrugged. “I don’t really know, I mean some items from the machines are nice but I’m not looking for anything in particular...”

She scratched the top of his head and gave him a tap on the back. “Don’t sweat it! The more the merrier!”

The two joined the casino and played various games for a while.

After collecting a great amount of medals, they headed to the premium exchange counter. There were various weird items here, so they bought a bunch of not-that-necessary items for themselves or to offer.

Shuichi didn’t miss Miu getting a love key, even though she tried to hide it.

Even though the bar was devoid of people, they sat there to compare what they bought.

Miu examined the plant Shuichi had bought. “I wish I had time to take care of these... I already got a son and an artist career to maintain.”

He smiled. “Say, you look happier these days. I’m glad you manage your issues correctly.”

Her eyes widened for a second. “I’m... Just glad I managed to get back to my old mom habits.”

“You mean how you always prepare breakfast for the others and make sure the hospital team stays healthy?”

She blushed at the indirect mention of the Rantaro. “I-It’s nothing I- It’s just- It’s-” she stuttered, then groaned, putting her head in her crossed arms on the counter. “I can’t help it, I have to take care of someone or else I’m nervous.”

Shuichi gently tapped on her shoulder in comfort. “It’s alright, it’s not hurting anyone anyway.”

She put her head in her palms, elbows on the counter. “Yeah but doesn’t it feel weird for you guys that I’m starting to treat you like my own kids??”

The boy shrugged. “As long as you’re not the overly protective mom then I don’t mind. You said it helps you relax so I don’t see why you shouldn't do it.”

Miu weakly smiled and scratched his head. “... Thanks, Shuichi.”

“No problem.”

The two left the casino to join the others, since it was already starting to get dark. How long had they stayed here?

They quickly put the items they got in their dorms and returned to the main building.

When they arrived, everyone was either chatting in the dining hall, except Kirumi, who was preparing dinner.

Miu joined her to give her a hand, but was ordered to give the meals to the hospital team. She called Shuichi and the two brought the plates to the fourth floor.

Rantaro walked out of Ryoma’s room.

“Hello there.” he said.

“We got the meals!” Miu cheerfully announced.

He gave them a thumbs up. “Can you put mine in my lab like yesterday please?”

“I’ll do it. Thanks a lot for your service, Rantaro.” Shuichi said.

He left a plate to Miu and brought the other one to the medic’s lab.

When the girl came back to the dining hall, she explained to Shuichi that Rantaro usually waited until the others ate before doing so. Mostly to make sure they were actually eating.

The group had dinner peacefully and everyone parted their ways to the dorms, or stayed outside for a bit.

Shuichi returned to his room. he would usually talk to Rantaro, but since he was busy taking care of the others, he simply went to his room, having nothing to do.

He took a look back at the items he got. He placed the plant on the small table, read a bit of the travel journal and tried to understand how the strange card game he got worked.

He went to sleep, still worrying about the hospital team, but there wasn’t much he could do.

-

Day 12 since the beginning of the game. 7:20 AM.

Since Shuichi went to sleep early, he woke up earlier than expected.

After taking a quick shower and dressing up, he headed to the dining hall. Keebo was the only one there.

“Oh, good morning, Shuichi.” he said.

“Good morning... I suppose Kirumi and Miu are preparing breakfast?” he asked, taking a seat.

The robot nodded.

Just as Kirumi entered the dining hall, a plate of toast and a carafe of orange juice in hand, Monodam entered the room as well.

“...”

The three looked at the silent robotic bear. He was usually with his siblings, chanting their annoying catchphrase.

“Why are you here?” Kirumi coldly asked.

“YOU-GUYS-DID-NOT-GET-ALONG.”

Keebo frowned. “What are you saying?”

“ONE-OF-YOU-MADE-A-MESS-IN-THE-SHRINE-OF-JUDGEMENT. THIS-IS-NOT-GETTING-ALONG.”

The three looked at each other, worry growing inside them.

The bear left them without answering any questions.

Shuichi took a deep breath. “We should... Try to see what happened.”

Kirumi frowned. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

He was almost certain something bad happened. Something really bad.

It looked like the other two thought the same, so they hurried to the shrine of judgement.

They opened the door.

A horrifying sight appeared before them.

On the ground, was scattered several blood stained sharp objects and hammers.

And in the middle of it, drowning in a pool of blood was the mangled, almost unrecognizable corpse...

... Of Himiko Yumeno, the ultimate astronomer.