#mae talks shifting

[maebyshifting]

the thing about shifting is that i feel you have to be delulu for a lot of it to get the results you want.

like, having a dream about your dr. some say that’s a great sign as your subconscious is recognizing what you want! some dismiss it and say that can’t be a sign because dreams are unpredictable and you can just dream about things you’ve been thinking about.

the thing is, if it motivates you and makes you feel one step closer, then that’s what it is! i feel like we put so many invisible barriers and rules on what is a sign, what shifting it, how you can do it, etc. instead of focusing on how cool and easy it is.

so if something happens and it motivates you, who cares what others say. don’t let others rain on your parade. you take the signs you want and go shift.

[emmymaehereeeeee]

going through and answering some requests tonight!

I love ya'll!

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i’ve recently become obsessed with herbal teas and i noticed you have mentioned chamomile and jasmine tea in your fics lol. i am wondering if you would be interested in writing a remus or poly!marauders fic with an american reader who loves herbal teas and they kinda tease her about it (in a loving way of course)? i love your fics and i hope you have a lovely day whenever you read this <3

I love herbal teas! I fully support this obsession honey. Thank you for requesting!

cw: british slander, i love y'all but i'm besmirching your brand <3 (based largely on my own experiences lol, so perhaps not fully accurate)

Remus Lupin x american!reader ♡ 614 words

“This is so disappointing,” you sigh at the sight of Remus’ cabinet. 

“What?” he asks from the couch. 

“You told me you had tea.” 

“I do have tea.” 

“No, you only have this.” You take the box of Yorkshire Tea out of the cabinet, brandishing it where Remus can see. “This shit is nasty. Rubbish, as your folk say.” 

“Oh,” he laughs, “so you sail all the way across the ocean, take our teas with you, denounce our government, and then come back here to criticize, is that it?” 

You look at him darkly. “This is what the Boston tea party was really about. I get it now.” 

Remus beckons you toward the couch. You go, abandoning the boiling kettle since apparently there’s no point in searching the kitchen for anything good to drink. It’s only once you sit down on the couch and he takes your hand into his lap that you realize your mistake. 

Remus has a mollifying effect on you. It’s tragic, really. All it takes is a look, a shift in his tone, a small touch like this, and you’re pliant and boneless for him. 

“What sort of teas do you prefer?” he asks you softly, tracing the lines of your palm.

“I usually keep a variety,” you tell him, matching his tone. “Like cinnamon, or passionflower, or rooibos…have you heard of any of those?” 

Remus smiles, slow and sweet. “I have. Would you like whipped cream and sprinkles on those as well?” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes. You try to take your hand back, but Remus holds fast (you don’t make it hard for him), grinning at you. 

“That is so not fair. Just because y’all like your tea bland—”

“Say that one more time for me? Who all?” 

“—doesn’t mean my tastes are somehow unrefined.” You fix him with a hard stare, though your smile is untamable. “You’re being posh.”

Remus looks amused. “Never been accused of that one before,” he says. 

“Have you ever tried jasmine tea with a little bit of sweet creamer in it?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Remus, you’re really missing out.” 

“Alright.” He stands, taking your hand with him and giving it a tug when you don’t follow. “C’mon, up.” 

“Where are we going?”

“To make you a cuppa.” 

You giggle. “I can’t take you seriously when you call it that.” 

“Once you stop saying dude, we can talk about my diction.” 

“So mean,” you tsk, letting him pull you over in front of the kitchen counter. He pours the hot water from the kettle into a mug, placing a tea bag in it. 

“We’ll get this drinkable for you, love, don’t worry,” Remus murmurs, waiting until the tea is a deep brown before going to the fridge. He pours in heaps of milk and sugar, stirring with a look of mild distaste in his expression. “Alright, try.” 

You take the mug off the counter warily, blowing on it before putting it to your lips. 

You hum, and Remus lifts an eyebrow. 

“It’s…better.” 

“I’ve done my best,” he chuckles, taking it from you. “I’ve thrown all my principles and better sense out the window, and it’s still not up to your standards, hm?” 

“No, it’s not bad.” You steal the mug back, taking another sip and smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth experimentally. “It’ll do.” 

Remus gives you an indulgent look. “I’m sure we can find you some jasmine tea if that’s what you want,” he offers. 

You shrug. “I was just at the grocery store, and I didn’t see any.” 

He tilts his head skyward, blowing out a long-suffering breath. “I think you mean the grocery, sweetheart.”

[slash-me-please]

can I request you an alpha!thomas x omega!reader?♡

Omfg i wrote something!?

Volunteer Work

For a moment you had thought of going back home. The cold breeze during such a dead night had kept you on your toes, looking over your shoulder- looking for something. The walk to the Hewitts was just as dead as the night, nothing but old roads guiding you to their dilapidated mansion- you should've told your folks no, having been offered up as some kind of half-hearted help, as they couldn't find it in them themselves.

It all started when you and your mother stopped by an old gas station near your home, and she handed you a few crumbled dollars and told you to give it to Miss Luda-Mae at the counter. "Just take whatever she'll give you, we need to get home soon." She spoke to you, waving you away and out of the passengers seat. You stumbled out of the car, shutting the door behind you with an attitude your mother would ignore. With that you walked yourself over the dirt pathway, lifting your sundress slightly and ignoring the lingering looks from a gang of bikers. Then when you opened the door, it should've rang, but it seemed the bell had broke between now and the last time you had been here.

You released a sigh of disappointment when at least three of those bikers had been in line already, Luda-Mae arguing with one of them about the price of gas- although this had to be the only gas station in town, so there were no ongoing rates. The two of them ran about for a bit, before the man gave up and the line moved after what felt like five minutes. As expected, the door opened once more for your mother, a scowl on her face as it seemed you took too long. She walked over to you, as soon as it was your turn to talk to Miss Hewitt, and she huffed at you with an annoyed glance.

"Hi Miss Luda, how are you doing today?" You smiled, flattening out a five dollar bill against the ridge of the counter as you conversed. "Busy day, these bikers were raised with no respect. Makes 'em harder to deal with- insults to their mamas." She responds, looking over her glasses at you. "I completely understand, this one here always has something to say. This- that- my momma woulda' hit me." Your mother interjects, snatching the money out of your hands to give to Luda. "We ain't got much, just seven dollars on... One? Yeah, One." Luda nodded. "Thomas is like that now, he's getting older and-" her voice lowers, "All them ruts alone are getting to him." Your mom shakes her head in understanding, her eyes shifting to you and you laugh- pushing her away. "Actually, Y/N, if you're interested, he just built this little dresser for his room- and he's talkin' about painting it but he ain't patient enough to paint the darn thing. I think he would appreciate if you helped him out some time soon." She continues, looking over to your mother. "Of course she can! She'll be over tonight, ain't got nothing else to do."

And that's why you're walking over to the Hewitts after dark, speed-walking down the side of the road. After a while you reached their home and familiar smells welcomed you. Luda-Mae always smelled of cigarettes, She was a respectable beta woman, living with a shifty beta man. You'd only met Charlie a few times, he'd wink at you then and there, he smelt of rotting wood. There was something off about that man. Then there was-

"Thomas! I didn't see you there," You yelped, stumbling back a few steps as he emerged from behind a tree, axe in his hand, previously doing lawn work- probably. His eyes moved down your body, admiring your sundress, only to nod at you. "Your mother said you needed some help painting your dresser?" He nodded again, dropping the axe at his side and beginning to walk towards his house. When he makes it up the stairs and you don't follow, he turns to you and gestures up to the door- as if to say "let's go."

You follow him through his house and into his room, the white paint and brushes on the floor catching your attention. He looks almost ashamed of the outcome, strokes of paint coming from every direction and some of them hitting the wall- you release a breathy laugh. "I can fix it, don't worry." You tell him, but he still looks disappointed. "I wish I could build like you, must be a good quality- yknow- for the omegas 'round here." He shakes his head no immediately, watching as you sink to your knees and begin to brush the paint against the rough wood. "C'mon, last week I saw you talkin' to one of those bikers that are always hangin' out with Luda. She had those bright eyes and enthusiastic too- that's all an alpha could want." He shakes his head no again, this time seemingly annoyed and you drop the subject.

For a moment you two sit in peace, and even though the paint is strong his scent seeps into your skin, leaving you practically dizzy. You realize you shouldn't have done this in his room of all places as the heat builds and starts to soak your underwear. He practically tastes it too, and he rests his head back against the wall, hands balled into fists. "You like it?" You ask, setting the paintbrush down on the floor. His head snaps up, eyes wide until he realizes you're talking about the dresser and he nods. "Im only half done, but I'm tired, I'll finish it for you tomorrow?" And he agrees, walking over to help you off the floor.

When he grabs you, your head spins and you inhale more of his thick smell unintentionally. It makes you whimper in the heat of the moment and his eyes narrow at you. "Sorry- my knees are hurting." You stutter, pushing your hair away from your face. "Can you bring that outside? It's getting kinda congested in here." He nods again, and you're not sure he's even listening to you as you begin to say your goodbyes.

"I gotta get going but maybe I'll be back to finish this tomorrow?" And he nods once more, his arms opening a bit to invite you into a hug- one that you took eagerly. Thomas' arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, keeping your face pressed against his scent gland. And he held you there. Your self control was not apparent today, legs squeezing and rubbing together immediately. He stumbled forwards, trapping you against the wall and adjusting his arms around your waist so he could place a kiss against your bare shoulder. You buried your face further into his neck, a low whine on your tongue as you began to lick at the thin skin on his throat. "Alpha?" You purred. His fingers twitched against your back in a display of unwanted self control, one that had your omega whining once more.

His throat rumbled, he was pleased at your reactions- a heat spreading through you that he smelled and wanted. Thomas lifted you up, his strong arms carrying you over to his bed, just to lay you down in his heap of pillows. His sheets smelled of him- sweat, caramel and power, it make you keen. As you basked in his scent, he made his way with your clothes. Yanking down your sundress, he gifted unspoken praises to your body as he noted the lack of a bra. His hands made quick work of you, calloused hands rubbing against the soft, thinner skin of your nipples with an admiration your last lovers hadn't given you.

His scent had gotten stronger by the minute, seeping into your body and melting your brain into a puddle of mush. You couldn't help yourself but to pull the edge of your sundress up, exposing yourself to his greedy eyes. His grunts of approval music to your ears, even moreso when you pulled his unoccupied hand to your drooling pussy. He held a sharp breath within, dipping a finger into the heated hole he'd soon bury his knot inside. His left hand moved from your nipples to your throat, holding you down as his right began to thrust in and out of you, thumb rolling over your throbbing clit. "T-Thomas!" You moaned, wrapping your smaller hands around his forearm, leaving it covered in thin scratches- none deep enough to scar. His fingering began quicker, pulling you to a high end before you wanted- but your begging for his knot convinced him not. "Alpha! Please god!" Grinding against his hand, that would eventually have your end. With a loud whine, you came on his fingers, and he retracted. His mouth immediately moved to his belt, undoing the clasps and pulling his cock out and pulling your recovering body to the edge of his bed.

Pressing a kiss to your sweating forehead, he entered you fully. And soon he began to thrust inside of you, your walls singing happily, head craned to the side presenting an unmarked throat to him. Which he'd take your offer, listening to you worship his title as his canines punctured the vent of your skin, mark fresh and bleeding. Your arms wrapped around Thomas' chest as his thrusting sped up and you heard whispers of "Omega," under his breath as he filled you with his seed as you finished underneath him. He began to slow, but didn't stop there until you released a sleepy whine into his chest, eyes closing with a rumbling purr.

[slasher-male-wife]

Slashers reacting to reader succumbing to Stockholm syndrome part two

So part one got a lot of notes and I wanted to write a part two, I'm also in a bit of a vampire hyperfixation thanks to Near dark so I'm including The Lost boys even though they wouldn't always kidnap their future s/o. This is again inspired by the lovely @slasherhaven, who's back from a long break. Anyway part one is here

Includes: Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair, Otis Driftwood and Jason Voorhees

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, murder, slight gore descriptions in Otis's bit, reader is really far gone, manipulation kind of, kidnapping

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas went out early while you stayed in the house with Luda Mae. For the first few weeks of staying here all you did was cry and yell. But now months into living here you're more docile, quiet and afraid but docile enough. When Thomas returns to the house for lunch you're setting out plates on the table for everyone, with Monty watching over you. When you see Thomas you smile and finish setting down the plates and forks.

"Good to see you Thomas. I'm glad to see you're back in time for lunch. I helped make it today," You walk over to the door and stand before Thomas, he looks down at you confused. You rarely spoke to anyone in the house before this, and when you did it was a simple yes or no, "I'll be right back." You stand on your toes and press a kiss to his cheek before leaving the dining room.

Thomas takes a seat and looks over to Monty for any kind of clue as to what's going on, but he can't give him any answers.

Later that night you're getting ready for bed with Thomas. He's still confused about earlier and why you're so nice all of the sudden.

"Thomas," You say turning over to him. He just looks down at you and nods, "I wanted to thank you for taking care of me. I'm glad you chose to do this for me." All he can think to do is nod. He doesn't know what's going on with you, but he's not going to tell you to stop anytime soon.

Vincent Sinclair

When Vincent first wakes up he finds it odd that your arms are wrapped around him. In the two months you've been here you've never wanted any physical contact with him unless he forced it. Lately you've been more calm in a sense. The screaming and pleading to be let free awhile ago, but when he had to tie you to something in the basement to keep you from running you stopped trying to break the restraints two weeks ago.

He slowly shifts and you start to wake up. A smile spreads on your face while you stretch.

"Good morning Vincent," You say somewhat cheery compared to your past moods, "Did you sleep well?" He nods while looking into your eyes, trying to see if you're going to crack your act. But your smile stays and you push hair out of his face, "I'm glad. Is it ok if I walk upstairs with you today? I promise I'm not going to leave." Now he's really confused. Why are you so loving all of a sudden. He's never kept a victim around this long so he doesn't know if it's something common. He shakes his head and stands up out of bed.

He leaves the basement and locks the door behind him. Listening for a few minutes he doesn't hear you screaming or trying to break anything. When he leaves and returns 20 minutes later you're still in bed, sitting up now and studying a small wax figure.

"Welcome back Vincent." He just looks at you before setting down his food and coffee. He's going to have to talk to Bo about this. But if you're being genuine with your feelings then he's going to keep you around longer than he thought.

Otis Driftwood

He quickly picked up on the change in your mood. Although it was slow going and took some time, he saw what was happening and knew this was going to be fun, he's just been waiting for you to prove how deeply 'in love' with him you are.

He's busy working on cutting up a body, having sent you off to do something with Baby while he works when you walk back into his 'studio'. When he notices you, you don't look upset at all, despite a dead body laying dismembered mere feet away from you.

"Baby told me to come back here. I hope you don't mind," You say stepping back into the room and shutting the door. By now he's turned to you, you can see he's covered in blood and guts but you're so unfazed you walk right up to him and straight into a hug, catching him off guard and making him almost shove you off of him. Until you say, "I hope you don't mind me doing this," , blood undoubtedly soaking into your clothes, "I just needed a hug."

This is the tipping point for him. You seeing him actively working on a body he killed and still wanting his affection is enough to tell him that you're fully head over heels 'in love'. He smiles to himself and wraps his arms around you.

"Not at all sugar. Not at all."

Jason Voohees

Jason saw your slow change over time but didn't really see a need to ask you about it. You're becoming more accepting of the fact you're living with him now and you can't leave. Even with these new changes in attitude and you doing what he ask of you, you were still uncomfortable with physical contact.

That was until tonight. It's thundering hard outside as it pours. You've always been scared of severe weather and when you found Jason sitting on his couch you ran into his arms and onto his lap, slightly shaking. Catching him off guard he raises his arms as he looks down at you, looking back up at him with big watery eyes.

"I'm sorry Jason. I just really hate thunder storms. I can get up if you want me to." You begin to stand up when he pulls you back down against him, holding you in his arms now. If he was unsure about you 'loving' him before he knows now that you're truly dependent on him. And some part of his brain likes that. He likes the feeling of knowing you see him as your protector.

He wraps his arms around you tighter and begins to stroke your hair. Things are going to be made so much easier now that you're accepting of his affection.

[saturnville]

torture, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan + black!fem!oc (amelia egan)s

content: John is interrogated in Germany.

an: y'all...part 6 of mota....tore me up. spoilers ahead. let's talk about this part! comment, reblog, and send asks!

gif: @olympain

tags: to maintain your place on the taglist, you're expected to interact! @turn-thy-paige @neeville @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste

“Married?” 

Silence. The air was tense. How could it not be? An American soldier had been captured in the swamps of German territory, beaten like a mule, and whipped like a Roman traitor. Just outside of his line of vision, he saw the bodies of soldiers and civilians drug across the gravel lot. An American soldier had been captured in the swamps of German territory and questioned like a federal criminal by a German pilot who grinned like a cashmere cat; evil and conniving. Silence. 

The German interrogator, Hausmann, chuckled dryly and hovered his pen over the sheet of paper under his arm.“From what I hear, I assume you are unmar—“

“I have a wife,” he answered gruffly after some time. A lovely wife, at that. Full of love and affection, mercy and kindness. He missed her dearly. He kept a photo of her in his breast pocket but was too fearful of the damage to look at it. 

His throat felt thick like maple syrup running down the stump of a tree. His jaw shook as he inhaled the lit cigarette. He pushed the smoke out of his nose. 

Hausmann hummed. “Yes, Amelia. Amelia Mae Egan, correct?”

 John leaned forward. How the hell did he know that? He clenched his teeth. The tips of his ears reddened.

The interrogator nodded, his eyebrow-raising in amusement at the pilot’s demeanor shift. John saw the wheels turning in the man's head. In frustration, he ashed the cigarette and dropped his hand against the desk with a thud. The blonde interrogator met John's blue eyes. 

“Sorry, Major, I had to ask for documentation. She’s a beautiful woman. I didn’t think these kinds of…couplings were common in America. They aren’t here.” Gasket blown.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused,” John hissed. His voice raised an octave which caused the interrogator to jump slightly.``You asked if I was married, and I said yes. I don’t see the point you’re trying to make here, but I’m sure it isn't a part of your freakin’ protocol. Keep my wife out of it.”

Hausmann raised his hands in defense and laughed lightly. John failed to find the joke. His patience wore thin. “Easy, Major Egan. I meant no harm. But um, I have to say, you are making this harder than it needs to be. I simply would like to talk to you, so, I’ll ask you again…”

The words went over his head. His mind spiraled out of control. He had never seen this man in his life yet he knew of his personal life? He knew of Amelia. His precious Rose. He knew of his relationship with Buck, and he was holding it in front of him like a treat for an animal. Is that how he was viewed? As a rabid animal who went killing people like it was a sport? 

No, that wasn’t the case at all. He was nothing but a soldier trying to defend his country. If there was another way to solve the issue, who would he be to decline the proposition? And this…this was the punishment for it? His dignity, his life, and his purpose were all questioned by a man who was no better than he was. It was torture.

John’s tongue scraped the roof of his mouth as he lifted his eyes from the papers littered across the desk. Planes crashed. Soldiers lost. His wife at home, clueless about what had gone on. She was unaware if he was alive or dead. Hell, he had no clue where his fate lay either. Would there even be an opportunity to hear her voice again? He could only pray. 

He blinked away the tears that pooled in his eyes. Once again, he stated, “John Egan. Major…” Torture indeed. 

[redrose10]

Here is Part 2. Hopefully I can get the next part out within the next week. Comments and messages are always appreciated!

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 3,704

Tag List: @viankiss @kam9404 @igot7fairlyoddparents

Later that evening dinner was filled with laughter and stories. Jimin had countless tales from Milan and Paris, New York and LA, Munich, Seoul, Tokyo. The list went on. You guess that’s what happens when you’re one of the most sought after models. He was charming and charismatic. Mae was certainly head over heels for him which brought many chuckles up on your end.

While you tried your best to stay interested in his stories and be polite your focus often shifted to the sulking Yoongi sitting off to the side next to his grandmother. His shoulders dropped down and he picked around at his food even though you knew it was one of his favorite meals. You hoped he wasn’t still upset with you about what happened after the trip to the strawberry farm and you were just looking for a chance to speak to him about it.

Thankfully after dinner Jimin went off to his room to get some sleep and Mae was going to meet one of her friends for some coffee so that just left just you and Yoongi. You had offered to clean up the dishes and once they were all dried and put away you started making your way around the inn looking for him. It didn’t take long for you to find him out in the garden using the last little bit of sunlight left of the day. Making sure your steps made enough noise to warn him of your arrival you knelt down and gave him a smile once you knew that he wasn’t going to get startled.

“What are you working on so late at night?”, you asked.

“Nothing really. Just pulling some weeds and cleaning up.”

Silence filled the air as he returned to the task he had set out to do.

“Listen Yoongi, about earlier, I never meant to upset you. I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

He gave you a small smile, “It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend to care about me.”

Your brows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean? I haven’t been pretending to care about you. I genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you better.”

Standing up he brushed the dirt off his knees before walking back to the inn. Quickly you chased after him a little surprised at his quick movements.

“Yoongi I’m serious. I’m sorry if you got that impression, but that wasn’t what I was trying to achieve.”

Suddenly he stopped and turned startling you this time.

“Why are you doing this? Is my grandmother forcing you? Wouldn’t you rather spend it with Jimin?”

It might’ve been the lighting or even your imagination, but you swear you saw the start of tears forming at his waterline breaking your heart.

“Yoongi no one is making me do anything. Jimin is a nice guy and I liked talking to him, but he’s not you. And he’s leaving soon anyways. He was just passing through. I really do want to get to know you more before I leave next week and even then I’d like to keep in touch with you. I promise I’m not trying to intentionally hurt you.”

For a few moments you weren’t sure how to proceed. Yoongi stood at the back door of the inn staring at the ground while biting his lip. After what seemed like forever he looked up at you with a tear falling down his left cheek. You had to muster up all the restraint in your body not to reach over and wipe it away.

“Y/N please don’t give up on me. I just need more time.”, he whispered before running back into the inn leaving you staring at the now empty spot. You wanted to give him all the time in the world, but you knew the clock was ticking.

Over the next few days you hardly saw Yoongi other than at breakfast and dinner. Even when you specifically went looking for him he was nowhere to be found. Jimin had already left leaving just the three of you again. After working on your new novel for a few hours you decided to head over to Taehyung’s and see about trying that new latte and maybe getting a slice of pie. On the way there you happened to look over and saw Yoongi walking through the field where you saw the few cherry blossom trees the other day. He was wearing a baby blue colored sweater that made him look so soft and cozy. As much as you wanted to run over and engulf him in a hug you thought it was best to just let him be and head over to the farm as planned.

Jin had convinced you to try his newest creation, a grilled cheese sandwich made with Brie cheese and sliced strawberries with a honey balsamic dipping sauce. According to Jin he wanted to expanded the cafe into more of a restaurant adding more savory dishes. You weren’t 100% sold, but it wasn’t terrible either.

“Hey so what happened with Yoongi the other day?”, Namjoon asked taking a seat next to you.

“I think he just got really overwhelmed by the thought of spending time with so many people.”

“Yeah I could see that. Sometimes even I get stressed out by how hectic things are around here.”, he chuckled.

“Who are we taking about?”, Jungkook asked walking over and taking a seat across from you. Quickly you noticed him eyeing your uneaten sandwich so you slid the plate over chuckling as he inhaled it.

“Just Yoongi and what happened the other day.”, Namjoon replied.

Taehyung having finished up his duties also walked over and joined you guys.

“You know I was thinking of having Jin make him a cake since his birthday is coming up. I thought I could drop it off at the inn. Just something to let him know we’re thinking of him.”, he said.

“Wait his birthday is coming up? When?”, you asked.

“Umm it’ll be Saturday.”, Namjoon added.

You were supposed to leave Sunday, but that would still give you enough time to go into town and get him a gift or something.

“What if we threw a little party for him?”, Jungkook asked while trying to pry the melted cheese off his fingers.

Taehyung laughed, “Come on Kook. You know there’s no way in hell he’d ever come to a party.”

It was a really nice gesture, but you also knew Taehyung was right and there was no way that Yoongi would ever agree to go to something like that. But maybe if the guys helped you get something together then Yoongi could see they meant well you thought.

“What if we put something together for him to walk into but he’s alone? Kind of like a surprise party, but without us all there to shout surprise.”, you suggested.

“You know that just might work”., Jin replied. With everyone in agreement the group started brainstorming different ideas. With a plan set you said your goodbyes and decided to make your way back to the inn. Luckily you found Mae alone in the kitchen and filled her in on the plan and she was thrilled to go along with it.

Once back in your room you were greeted with the faint scent of flowers. You noticed on your desk a vase filled with various wildflowers in different colors. They were absolutely gorgeous, but you weren’t sure how they ended up there. You thought maybe Mae had placed them so you went out to the kitchen to thank her when you found Yoongi sitting at the table sipping some water. You also noticed the bright purple bandage on two of his fingers and his jeans were noticeably dirty. He gave you a tight lipped smile as you took a seat next to him.

“Some very beautiful flowers happened to make themselves into my room today. Would you know anything about that?”, you asked almost certain it was him.

His cheeks flushed red as he nodded, “Y-yes I picked them for you.”

Your heart swelled and you just wanted to reach over and hug him.

“Is that how you ended up dirty and with bandages?”

“Yeah I tripped and tried to catch myself on a tree trunk. It didn’t go so well.”, he chuckled softly.

“Thank you for the flowers. That was so sweet of you.”

“I..I just wanted to say sorry for the way I acted the other day.”

“No need to say sorry. I understand.”

The two of you sat in a silence that was surprisingly comfortable until he excused himself and left to his room. Once back in your own room you tried to get some more work done, but you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful vase of flowers sitting in front of you. So you opened up a new email to send to your boss begging for more time away from the office so you could continue to stay at the inn for a little while longer. It felt like something was brewing between you and Yoongi and you didn’t want to interrupt that now.

Thankfully the following morning you woke up to a reply from your boss giving you the okay to stay as long as you were making progress. Excited that you were going to be able to stay longer you walked out to the kitchen a little cheerier than usual greeting Mae with a big smile.

Hi Mae, how are you doing today?”, you asked happily accepting a cup of coffee from her.

“Oh you know dear, same old same old.”

“Hey Mae, what do you think Yoongi would want for his birthday?”

She smiled, “Well he isn’t really one for material things. He’s much more sentimental.”

That really didn’t help you much. You were hoping you could just buy him a new sweater or some gardening gloves, but it seems you’re going to have to think a little harder. You thanked Mae and decided to head into town hoping that something there would give you some inspiration.

The little town seemed even busier than when you arrived with tourists from all over the world taking in the scenery. As you were walking up and down the streets you looked into different storefronts hoping something would catch your eye and something certainly did, but it wasn’t any gift.

Quickly you darted back behind the brick wall of the building you were next to trying to stay out of sight when you saw Yoongi looking into a large window with a large gummy smile on his face. Mae must’ve sent him into town for something. You watched as he looked over whatever was in the window. He looked like he wanted to enter into the shop, but after some hesitation he turned and started making his way back to the path to the inn. After you were sure he was gone you walked over to see what he was looking at and you were shocked to the name of the building ‘Fluffy Paws Adoption Center” and in the window an adorable little brown poodle puppy was bouncing up and down trying to get your attention. Your heart fluttered at the thought of Yoongi with a little puppy happy and giggly. You knew that a pet was a full time commitment so wanted to speak with Mae first before you just showed up with a dog that they would be responsible for after you left.

You went inside and asked if you could put the dog on hold and thankfully they gave you 48 hours so you quickly went back to the inn. In your room you hid away the knitting yarn, tangerine candies, hand painted notebook, and fluffy white sweater that you had already purchased as gifts for Yoongi. You thought maybe you were going a little overboard, but you really wanted to make this special for him.

After running through the inn you found Mae sitting in the backyard thankfully no Yoongi in sight.

You explained to her how you saw him looking in the window of the shelter and how you wanted to buy him the little brown dog. You offered to buy several months worth of food and fill an account with the local vet so that the dog could get medical care when needed. You were talking so fast you were out of breath by the time you were done and Mae couldn’t help but laugh at the state of you.

“Y/N, I think that is a wonderful idea. I actually had a little dog just like that one when Yoongi he was younger. He adored that dog. That might be why he was drawn to her.”

You were so ecstatic you could hardly sit still so you quickly called the shelter to let them know you’d stop by tomorrow to purchase the dog.

The following morning was Yoongi’s birthday. Mae convinced him to leave the house under the ruse that she needed him to accompany her to a doctors appointment even though she was fully capable of going herself. When the two of them left the house you let in Jin, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jungkook who went to work. Jin placed the cake in the fridge along with the meat he had roasted leaving you with specific instructions on how to reheat everything properly. Taehyung and Hoseok hung up a few streamers and placed some balloons throughout the room. Namjoon and Jungkook finished wrapping up the gift they had all chipped in to get him, a laptop with music producing software already installed along with a card that they each signed.

Taking a step back you admired everyone’s hard work and you were really hoping that Yoongi would appreciate it too. After saying goodbye and promising the guys that you’d let them know how it went and hopefully send some pictures you headed off to town and picked up the adorable little poodle along with some food and a few toys. You even grabbed a tiny bandanna that said Happy Birthday.

Once back at the inn you began heating up the food from Jin which was harder than you had thought it would be thanks to the little rambunctious puppy that you were constantly chasing after. Just as you put the last plate on the table the front door swung open. Yoongi came sulking in with Mae not far behind him. You’d hope that he would’ve been surprised or at least gave you a smile, but he didn’t even look in your direction and instead stormed off to his room.

Mae walked over giving you a big smile, “It looks beautiful Y/N. You guys did a great job!”

“Yeah I really thought Yoongi would appreciate it thought. I guess we were wrong.”

She shook her head, “Just give him a few minutes dear. The doctors appointment didn’t go as well as I had hoped and we received some bad news that he is not taking well right now.”

Your heart sank.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Please, is there anything I can do?”

She gave you a reassuring smile, “No but thank you for the offer. They want me to travel to the main city to meet with some specialists in the coming weeks. They have some high rated oncologist there that they think may be able to help.”

You couldn’t help but feel the mood dampen. You knew that Yoongi must be devastated at the thought of loosing his grandma. You played out multiple different scenarios in your head before you felt a light tap on your thigh. Looking over you found Mae giving you a sly smile.

“I have an idea. Grab the dog and follow me.”

You did as she requested by grabbing the puppy and following her down the hall to Yoongi’s room.

Mae stood at the door and lightly knocked twice, “Yoongi are you okay dear?”

After no response she slowly cracked open the door and motioned for you to set the dog on the ground and then she took one of the squeaky toys and through it in Yoongi’s room chuckling as the little dog went racing in to retrieve her toy. You heard a small yelp of surprise coming from behind the door and you knew that Yoongi was not expecting to see the little dog.

After a few moments the door slowly creaked open revealing a red faced Yoongi holding the small dog close to his chest. His eyes still had the remnants of tears as he sniffled looking around confused.

“Come out to the kitchen. We’ve got a surprise for you.”, Mae said motioning for him to follow. You followed behind him smiling as you watched the little dog he still held close take tiny licks at his neck. As you walked into the kitchen his mouth dropped open.

“What is all this?”, he asked.

Mae nodded to you giving you the push to speak so you did, “The guys from the strawberry farm came over and helped me put this together. Jin made us dinner and there’s a strawberry cream cake in the fridge. They helped me decorate and they even got you this gift and a card. They wanted to stay, but we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

You noticed how Yoongi bit his lip trying to hide the tremble.

“Yoongi dear, wasn’t that nice of them? Maybe you two could go drop by tomorrow and thank them.”, Mae said.

He simply nodded before looking at the dog that had surprisingly fallen asleep in his arms.

“Oh she is a gift from me. I saw you looking at her the other day in town so I adopted her for you. Shes got food and some toys. There’s even an account set up at the vets office.”, you smiled.

It seemed like that was what broke the dam and he started letting tears fall while his shoulders shook slightly before he gently placed the dog on the floor and ran off to his room.

You stared for a while in shock before Mae came over gently nudging you with her shoulder in the direction he just ran off too. You took the hint and made your way to his bedroom door softly knocking. You didn’t get an answer just like you had assumed would happen, but you cracked open the door anyways finding him sitting on the edge of his bed crying.

“Yoongi I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just wanted to do something nice.”, you said taking a seat next to him.

Gently he wiped at his eyes, “I know. I’m sorry. Sometimes I just can’t help it. I do really appreciate all of this. I-I just don’t deserve it.”

Deciding to risk everything you leaned over wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him into a hug. When he didn’t immediately pull back you decided to speak, “Yoongi you do deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone I know. Please don’t ever think you’re not deserving of feeling loved and feeling happy. Everyone that put in effort on this just wants you to know that they’re thinking of you.”

He nodded sniffling a little, “Thank you Y/N. And m-maybe tomorrow we could go to the farm and thank them too.”

Before you could speak the bedroom door cracked open slightly and in came sprinting the little brown dog. She beelined it for Yoongi trying to get him to pick her up. You both giggled at her excitement at finally being held.

“What are you going to name her?”, you asked.

He thought for a moment as he stared out of the window, “I think Cherry. Like cherry blossom.”

“I like it. That sounds great.”, you smiled.

You sat there and spoke with him for a while. You were careful not wanting to bring up any bad memories so you were happy to just let him talk. His voice was comforting in a way and you were just taking in the moment hoping that there would be more like it in the future.

After he had finished telling you a story about how he had scored the winning basket at his elementary schools championship basketball game he suddenly got quiet. You were worried you’d done something to upset him.

“Y/N can I ask you something?”

You nodded, “Of course.”

“Why are you so nice to me? I mean we’ve only known each other for a couple weeks. You don’t have to pity me. And if my grandmother is forcing you to do this you really don’t have to. She means well, but sometimes she prods too much.”

Taking a deep breath you continued, “Yoongi it’s nothing like that. I already told you no one is forcing me. I can’t really describe it and I know it sounds so cliche, but I feel a connection to you. I want to spend time with you and get to know you. I’m extending my stay here for a few more weeks. And I just want to show you that you deserve to be treated well and that you deserve to be loved.”

When he didn’t say anything in response you looked up finding him looking at you with soft eyes. He was so close to your face that you could smell the faint scent of his vanilla and musk cologne.

Suddenly he leaned in placing the softest of kisses to your lips. It was so quick your brain almost couldn’t process what just happened and you let out a small gasp. Not because you didn’t want or like the kiss, but because you were so shocked that he had actually initiated a kiss when a couple weeks ago he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. Before you could react any further he got off the bed running out of the room ignoring your pleas for him to stop and come back.

With a sigh you sat back down on the bed giving a confused Cherry some pats as you groaned to yourself. Just when everything was finally going so well and you were beginning to make progress.

[mrscarmenbearzatto]

mae girl! i’ve been living for your carmy stuff. k know you’re just getting back but i’ve been thinking about this idea for a while and i believe the last writer i shared with had gotten deactivated. this might be two ideas instead of one so feel free to do whatever you desire. idk why but would you be down to write some fluff and angst with maybe like married!carmy? maybe something where nat and pete legit ambush carmy and his wife to start talking again? but it like a lighthearted fluffy kinda way at the same time ? utilizing the scene carmy yells at syd as a base- i hate to use that scene as an example but it’s one that comes to mind when writing this atm. anyway, like the reader doesn’t work at the bear but’ll come in on her days off and mornings before her shift to help them open. and carm is already on edge about something going on in the resto and he yells at his wife out of overwhelming frustration. evidently, he’s mad at himself for it after he does it he apologized but she’s all like “no.” and she’s literally giving him the silent treatment. ofc her and nat are besties and loves her sil, so i totally see nat roping pete into getting carmy to come over whilst the reader is already on her way since they haven’t spoken in a while. both nat and pete are literally doing whatever they can to keep these two in separate spaces of the house because neither carm or his wife have any clue they’re there. maybe like y/n is inside with nat and pete meets carmy outside on arrival? the reader is walking towards to the door to out and nat’s still stalling like “so are things with you and my brother?” and the reader scoffs and nat’s just like “still not talking to him huh?” and while the reader grabs the handle slowly opening the door open she’s all like “look, sugar- you know i love your brother, but carmy sometimes can be a piece of shit” and then all you hear is carmy being like “oh, i’m a piece of shit- even after i apologized to you?” and i can just see carmy and the reader being like wth is going on here. idk but nat and pete will sillily have to do the most to get these two the civilly sit down inside of their house to even have anything of a talk. and then nat team tagging with pete to get to the bottom of things and then she lets it slip that y/n had mentioned that they were trying to get pregnant and camry’s just like “wait. what? and carmy already up and ready to talk to her alone. this man would be so loving the first time all like “y/nn can i talk to you in the kitchen for a second?” and then she’s tryna explain and carm out here using her FULL name “in the kitchen now.” just hearing how he’d say it makes me squirm and squeak 😂😩. and she’s just speeding over because she knows he means it when he pulls out the first name. and think with that he’s all just hurt that she told his sister and he hadn’t really said anything- since it was their thing they they were still figuring out. seriously feel free to do whatever you desire. just sharing the same idea i’ll dream about in a few moments. tysm in advance 😭.

- 🥣.

i'm so sorry this took me so long to write, my love! this has nothing to do with you i just got a bit concerned and got lost so many times lmfao, im just dumb like that

ʚɞ

naturally, carmen wants to try to keep his anger away from you. you’re his love, his angel, his everything. the idea that he blew up at you makes him wanna cry but you won’t talk to him, you refuse to in fact until you process what he said.

“why the fuck are you here?! i don’t need you messing shit up and crowding me!” he yelled at you. the memory fresh in your mind. it should be since it’s the only thing you’ve thought about for the past few days.

nat and pete, in their own ways, notice this and take charge. pete thinks you two can handle it but nat chimes in with the, “i know my brother. he can’t handle shit. If this is left up to him to resolve, nothing will happen. i love him but still.”

so they form their plan. pete invites carmy over to set up furniture, catch up, whatever and nat invites you over to talk about the baby and ask for your help with meal prepping. “so, have you and my brother talked about what happened at the restaraunt?” she asks.

you walk over to the couch, putting on your jacket and scarf. you let out a scoff as your answer. “taking that as a no.” nat answers. you put your hand on the doorknob, your back to the front lawn where carmen and pete, unknowing to you, stand.

"look, you know I love Carmen. and you know i want-" you sigh. "i want a family with him, Nat. i want a child, or children, with the guy. but your brother can be a real piece of shit sometimes." You open the door fully at that point, where carmen's now staring at you.

"i'm a piece of shit, after i apologized to you?" carmen asks. you stare at him before looking at pete, then at natalie whose got a guilty smile on her face. "okay. what the hell is this?" You question.

"oh! carmy, hi! i had no idea you were gonna be here. come on in, we'll all have some coffee and we can talk about what's happening." natalie says as she pulls you inside, motioning for carmen to come inside.

he reluctantly agrees, stepping inside as he sits at the dining room table. you stand in the kitchen, far enough away from them.

i think once nat reveals that you told her you want kids his reaction changes. maybe you two talked about it or maybe he doesnt know but either way, he wants to talk to you. that changes things in his mind. because you still want kids with him.

while you and carm work out your own issues, of course nat and pete take credit for it, even though you and carmy are both mad at her. also the idea of carmen using your full name as a way to call you stop oh my gosh

[sunghoonsslut]

H&H (Teaser) 18+

Pairing: Heeseung x Innocent Reader (AFAB)

Wc (teaser): 691

Final WC: sitting at 7k rn with barely any smut so 😅 expecting 15kish

Warnings (teaser): SMUT 18+ MDNI (no smut in this teaser but in the full fic), Religious themes/Religious Guilt (please don’t read if any of that that makes you uncomfortable), corruption kink, more when the fic is actually fully posted

Posting: End of June/Beginning of July probably (subject to change)

Taglist: I don't think I'll be doing a taglist unless a lot of people are interested

This fic won the poll so here’s a little treat 🤭

Dragging his Feet Heeseung makes his way down the hall at a slow pace reading over one of the group chats he was in, Jay and sunghoon on either side of him as the group walks talking, Sunghoon fighting off the lingering hangover effects. “I told you not to drink so much,” Jay reminds his friend who groans waving him off with a head shake, tinted glasses resting on his face to avoid the fluorescent lights enhancing his headache.

 “I would have just skipped this lesson but apparently it’s ‘Incredibly vital for the core of the entire class premise,’” Sunghoon quotes with a grimace massaging at his temples to quell the pounding. “So next time you should actually listen to me instead of taking another shot,” Jay takes it as a moment of triumph with a smile earning an eye roll from the younger. 

Heeseung can’t help but laugh raising his head from his phone and adjusting his bag eyes scanning the hall, perking up in an instant, the moment he spots you, you’re not exactly hard to miss in the crowd of people, standing out like a sore thumb, dressed in complete coverage even with the heat that continues on into the early months of the semester.

“Hey I’ll catch you guys later,” He pats his friend on the shoulder leaving Jay mid-rant over how his finance professor is an ass, Sunghoon watches the way his friend moves his way through the body of other students weaving his way over towards you. “If I had to guess that’s the Quote on Quote ‘Religious Nut’ He was telling us about,” Jay’s eyes follow over to where Hee slips next to you casually.

“Yeah, I think you’re right on that one,” Sunghoon hums watching Heeseung walk away in the complete opposite direction of his class. “Must be down bad,” Jay mumbles before continuing where he left off about his teacher.

“Hey, you should come to this party we’re having,” Heeseung throws his arm over your shoulder walking with you almost too naturally as you look over at him on your side. Casually directing you in the direction he’s walking, attention shifting from getting to this next class towards him.

 Caught off guard you give him that usual surprised wide-eyed look before answering “Oh is it someone’s birthday party?” You ask with a smile lighting up at the idea as he pats you on the head lightly.

Innocent, is what comes to mind chuckling a little “Nope it’s just for fun, it’s what we do around here,” 

“Oh I see, I don’t know I think I have a paper to work on,” you explain thinking of the mountain of work you needed to finish, and a big quiz you desperately needed to study for.

Heeseung stops halting your movements at the same rate unprepared. You have to grip onto his waist to stop yourself from catapulting forward “Aw come on, at least show up for me, I swear we’ll have a fun time,” he promises bottom lip pressed outwards into a pout.

“These are the experiences that make College memorable, give you a taste of that freedom you’ve been craving,” he reminds you of one of the earlier conversations you had, that longing for normalcy and to do something you never imagined.

You hesitate remembering all the warnings, the stories, everything that screamed run “Okay then,” you say as if on autopilot caving to the way Heeseung asks watching the smile overtake his face satisfied it didn’t take much more convincing.

“Perfect! And Have Mae dress you up, she knows exactly what to wear to these events,” Heeseung explains, taking in your appearance the long skirt you have on practically touching the floor, your ankles not even visible matched with a long-sleeved blouse that reminded him of something he once saw in his grandma’s closet.

“I’ll text you and Mae the details later, now get to class safe,” He lets you go running off to whatever class he had, leaving you dizzily to finger out how far you had walked past your class thanks to Heeseung’s distracting, having to backtrack down the hall.

-------

A/N: This is just one of the scenes I will say Heeseung will be pretty Mean/Manipulative in the final thing with a couple soft moments but overall meanish so be warned of that when the full thing does get posted <3

[a1307s]

Lady Todd #1

(Batboys)

[Art is not mine! Credit to haines-mae]

Requested by: OliviaBrady821

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6380

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Cursing

Mentions of teen pregnancy

Mentions of suicide

———————————————————————

"Hello," an old, tall man says after swinging open a door at least twice my height. The door gives me the creeps. This house gives me the creeps. Gotham gives me the creeps. Honestly, at this point, the list of things that don't give me the creeps is shorter. "How can I help you?"

"Hello. I'm Noah Johnson," my caseworker says, shifting through his briefcase. Noah Johnson was ruled responsible for me by the state of New Jersey until my sperm donor could be located. I'm Noah's first foster care case ever and it's very painfully obvious. "Umm... this is Y/N Todd," he mumbles, holding up my birth certificate to the elder man as he continues to shift through his briefcase in search of a copy of my mom's will.

The elder man looks over the paper before turning toward me with a long blank stare. My mom was a short, blonde-hair, blue-eyed girl. I got my mother's height but other than that she always insisted I was the spitting image of my father. I don't see it but I also don't know what my father looks like, so I don't have much to compare my features to.

"Jason Todd is her father and on behalf of Mia Smith's dying wishes, I need to talk to Mr. Todd about... well... what he wants to do considering Y/N," Noah spills out, managing to find my mom's will and my DNA test supposedly proving this Jason dude is my dad.

The old man glances at the DNA sheet before taking the packet from Noah. "The yellow highlighter is details of Ms. Smith's passing. Green is anything mentioned Mr. Todd, pink is the details of Y/N's inheritance from her mother and blue is any details relating to the placement of Y/N Ms. Smith wished for," Noah says, placing his hands on my shoulders to hide the fact that they're shaking.

String bean grandpa glances between Noah and me before fingering through the packet. He glances through the accident report and death certificate of my mother before getting to her will. "Please come in," the man finally says, stepping aside so Noah and I can walk through the door frame.

The castle of a house echoes with our footsteps. "So is my dad some kind of mafia man?" I ask, looking around the entry. The throw rug alone looks more expensive than the apartment I used to live in.

The old man loses control of the door, causing it to slam shut. "Why do you say that?" He asks, glancing at me before leading us toward the marble staircase in the middle of the room.

"Well, last time I checked the only people in Gotham that can afford luxury is criminals."

"Y/N let's be quiet," Noah says, tightening his grip on my shoulders and letting out a nervous laugh.

"You're acting like Gotham is any worse than Blüdhaven," I mumble, starting to climb up the stairs. Noah's head is constantly whipping back and forth, his grip not loosening on me.

The walk up the stairs and down the hall is silent beside our footsteps and the occasional noises of the old floors shifting. "Wait here," Old Man Gangster says once we're in front of the huge double doors at the end of the hallway.

"I think you should wait out here as I talk to your da- Jason. As I talk to Jason," Noah says, correcting himself halfway through. I freaked out on him the first time he called this mystery man my dad. He's not my dad. He's a random guy that happened to knock up my mom.

     "Whatever," I murmur, leaning against the wall before sliding down it to sit on the carpeted ground. "I don't want to stay here," I say, looking up at Noah.

     "Well, you don't want to end up in a group home either. Especially one in Blüdhaven. This is your best chance Y/N and at the end of the day I don't get to decide what happens to you, Jason does."

     Jason, Jason, Jason. It's the only thing I've been hearing for the last week. It took about three hours after my mom was pronounced dead for people to find out she left custody - with a DNA test to back up her claims - of me to the famous Jason Todd. It buzzed around everywhere I went: the police station, the foster care house, school, everywhere.

All I've heard the past week is how hot and rich and mysterious and ew my 'dad' is. My mom was brutally murdered a week ago and all people cared about was this Jason Todd prick. A stupid dumb prick that high-tailed his ass out of my life after knocking my mom up at 15. Fucking asshole.

"You may enter," Raisin face says, poking his head out the door.

     "I'll come check on you in a little bit, okay? Stay here," Noah says before slipping through the door.

Once the door clicks shut, I'm left in complete silence. I don't mind it though. It gives me time to look over the place. I scoot forward, sticking my legs through the railing of the hallway and letting them hang over the edge. There's a big crystal chandelier hanging over the entryway. Honestly, the whole place looks like a torn-out image of Dracula's castle. It's disgusting. No one needs this much fancy shit. I'm sure no one needs big ass crystals dangling from their roof either.

After a couple of minutes of silence, the dust-covered vampire house is filled with the sounds of the front door creaking open. I rip my legs from the edge, folding myself up as I spy on the new person entering. Whoever it is, is wrapped up in a police uniform. Mr. Police Officer is definitely breaking the law. Officers can't just enter your house without permission. Well, unless they got a warrant.

I keep my eyes trailed on the person as they start heading up the staircase. "Bruce? Alfred?" The voice calls out, sparking my mind some. I know this voice but from were. The officer calls out a few more times, giving me more chances to run through all the people I've met in the last week.

The officer turns down the hallway, heading toward me. His eyes lock on mine, his pace slowing down as he sizes me up. "Y/N?" He asks, picking his pace up some.

"Officer Grayson?" I call back, stiffening some as he approaches me. Why the fuck is a Blüdhaven cop here? Why is the Blüdhaven cop that handled my mother's murder here? Last time I checked Dick Grayson was estranged from Bruce Wayne.

"How are you?" Grayson asks, crouching down to be closer to my level once he gets in front of me.

"Oh, you know, still technically an orphan and a ward of the state, so just dandy."

Officer Grayson chuckles some, trying to cover the sadness in his eyes. With him handling my mother's case I've seen a lot of him recently. I've heard a lot about him too. Some of the other officers were poking fun at him for "adopting a fellow orphan". After I quick google search, I found that his parents fell to their death when he was younger than me. It sucks for him, but it's a bit of a comfort to know he's gone through what I'm dealing with.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, shifting to sit down instead of kneeling.

"My case worker is talking to the old man that answers the door and I'm guessing Jason."

"The old man is named Alfred." Grayson says, glancing at me before looking through the railing as well. "So-"

"I googled you already. And Jason. I know you're his brother or whatever," I say, a bit more bitter than I meant. Grayson has been really sweet to me, but it would have been nice to find out he's technically my uncle from him instead of google. "Is the department going to make you drop my mom's case?"

"No, Captain said I could keep working the case." Silence falls between us for a while. Grayson glances at me every couple second, opening his mouth every now and again but nothing comes out. "Do you want some ice cream?" He finally asks, standing back up in his feet.

"I'm an orphan, not an idiot. Of course, I want free ice cream," I half-heartedly joke, crawling to my feet as well.

Grayson nervously chuckles, rubbing his neck before turning away from me. "This way," he mumbles, starting to lead me to the kitchen. Or at least I think that's what he's doing. It would be disappointing if he offered ice cream and then decide to murder me in this spooky ass house.

The way to the kitchen is filled with more obnoxiously fancy things. The walls are litter with picture of I think five different people - six if you count the Alfred guy. All five people have raven hair but only three of the five have blue eyes. The odd balls out have green eyes. Throughout the pictures I'm able to pick out Grayson in most of them but I'm not sure who the others are.

I stop in front of the pictures that catch my eye. Per the stats que of all the past pictures it's a black-haired man but he has a streak of white unlike the rest. It's one of the green-eyed ones too. He's in a leather jacket, propped up by the motorcycle he's leaning on. "That's Jason," Grayson says softly, ruffling my hair some before opening a door for me.

"He looks repulsing," I say, walking through the door to be met by a huge kitchen. The kitchen alone is bigger than any place I've stayed at.

"He's not all that bad," Grayson says, walking around the kitchen to collect dishes. I hum in disagreement, watching as the officer digs around the freezer. "Honestly Y/N he's a really good guy, a very honorable-"

"If he's so honorable, why'd he leave my mom to be poor single mother. Look at this place. This is where Jason has lived most of his life, and yet my mom worked herself to the bone just for us to stay in poverty the rest of her life." This shuts Richard up, the only noise being spoons clinking against glass bowls as we eat our ice cream.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I shouldn't push my image of Jason on to you," Grayson says once our bowls are empty.

The room is silent again as Grayson cleans up our bowls. I soak in the silence, taking in all the dust that seems to cover everything. "Officer Grayson-"

"Please call me Dick," he says, interrupting my thoughts.

"Ya, no I'm not going to call you that," I say, abruptly standing up to walk out, feeling really uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is going.

"No, it's not like that, I swe-"

"I will see you at the station whenever you get an update," I say pushing the kitchen door open and heading down the hallway. What grown man tells a young girl to call him dick? What can of suppose uncle tells his niece to call him dick? What the fuck is he trying to do? Is he trying to get me in bed? What the fuck?

"It's my name. Well, my nick name. It's short for Richard, I swear. I'm sorry," he races out, speeding after me in the hallway.

"You need to start leading with that," I say, stopping in my footsteps.

"Ya probably," Richie Rich says, paired with a nervous laugh and a neck rub. "I'm sorry, I'm coming off all kinds of bad way today, huh?"

"A little," I say, glancing around to plan my exit plan. I'm getting real sick of Mr. Fix it. Officer Gray- Dick goes into a rant of an apology, giving me a distraction to sneak away and find my way back to the hallway I'm supposed to be waiting in.

"Y/N?" Richard says, his voice echoing around the hollow house as I step off the last step. Living here might be terrible but it'll defiantly be easy to sneak around.

———————————

"I hate you," I whisper yell at Noah as he drags me up the Wayne Manor stairs.

"Yes, I know but Jason has decided he wants to keep you, so my hands are tied."

"I'm not a fucking dog you get to decide whether you want to keep are not," I say dragging my feet as much as I can as Noah leads me to the door.

"I know you're not, but like I said there's nothing else I can do for you. You have to at least try it out and if shit goes south and I mean south, then I can pull you." Noah drops to his knee, wrapping his hands around my own. I look down at him, taking in his face. I can't tell if he's sad or angry or what. "I know it sucks. I know, but you'll have a full stomach every night, a warm bed to sleep in, and a roof over your head. You'll be living comfortably - necessaries wise at least. You are so close to being legally an adult. Just tough out the Waynes until then okay?"

I sigh, shifting on my feet. "Fine, I'll tough it out. Food from ignorant people is better than no food."

Noah sighs in relief, laying his head against my arms before standing up. "Okay, you got this. You're perfect," he tells me, glancing at me a few times before knocking on the door.

It takes a bit but soon enough the door swings open. It's not the old man from the other day. This time it's - you guessed it - a raven-haired, blue-eyed boy, that looks not much older than me. "Oh, hi," he mumbles, glancing at me before very obviously checking out Noah.

"Hello!" Noah chirps out, clasping his hands around me, probably in fear that I'll run. "Is... uh... Mr. Wayne home?"

"Maybe," the boy says, closing the door some.

"Dumb rich assholes," I mumble, crossing my arms and turning my attention to the bushes. Even the front yard looks obnoxiously expensive.

"Who's at the door?" Comes Richard's voice from inside the building. Grayson soon fills the rest of the frame, the door swung open and the smaller carbon copy of him nuzzled between the officer and the door. "Oh! Y/N, you're back. With no bags..." He says, glancing around to look for nonexistent bags.

"No bags, just the backpack," I say, shifting the backpack around to cause the few things I own to jingle together. "What's up with the mini-you? You pull a Jason Todd?" I tease, pushing Grayson to the side to wiggle myself and Noah into the manor of terror.

"A 'Jason Todd'?" Mini-Me asks, looking up at the older boy.

"Tim, this is Y/N. Jason's... this is Y/N." Richard says, rolling over his words before settling on what he wants to say. "Y/N this is your... Tim is Jason's and my... This is Tim Drake." He is really struggling with his words today.

"Hey," I mumble, taking in the entry way again. I don't think I'm ever going to get over the dumb chandler or the fear it'll snap and crush me. "You're one of my donor's brothers I'm guessing," I say, looking over this Drake guy. I think I've seen him on the cover of vogue before. "Do you think Noah is hot?"

"Y/N!" Noah yelps out, tightening his grasp on me. "Manners please."

"He was so obviously checking you out. I just want to know if he's gay or intimidated," I say, smiling a little at the thought of someone being intimidated by a five-six, hundred- and thirty-pound Noah.

"I'm bisexual, actually," Tim says, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. "And you are very aware of things, it seems."

"Ya well Jason is going to be very aware of my-"

"How about Tim shows you to your room?" Noah pipes up, wrapping his hand around my mouth to cut me off. "Sounds like a lovely idea. I'm going to go talk to Mr. Wayne and then I'll pop by before leaving," he says, answering his own question as he pushes me towards Mini-Me.

Drake glances at me before turning on his heels and heading up the staircase. I follow behind, constantly looking over my shoulder in search for Noah. I am going to be a reck when he leaves me here alone. Once Noah is out of sight, I take in Tim's back as he leads me around the manor. He seems really fit for his age. I mean, Richard is fit but he's also an officer. Are they health nuts? Am I going to get dragged out of bed at five in the morning to go running or some shit?

"This one's yours," he mumbles, coming to a stop without warning, causing me to bump into him. "You good?" Drake asks, glancing down at me as he pushes open the bedroom door.

"I'm fine," I whisper, leaning forward some to look into the room. It makes me gag a bit. What is the problem with rich people being over the top for no reason?

"You can go in," my chaperone says, softly pushing me forward by the small of my back. "It's not going to swallow you whole."

I'm not so sure of that. Who knows what creep has or will happen in this horror house. The room is big, almost as big as the kitchen I saw a couple days ago. Big glass windows reach across most of the wall in front of me. The back yard and the Gotham Lake are in full view. Maybe sometimes having an expensive yard is worth it. There an overstuffed white couch tucked in front of the middle window, empty bookcases towering on other sides of the window. The walls are a marble black color, making all the pink and white in the room stand out in an unbearable way.

On the left, there's huge bed, even bigger than a king size, I think. A pink fluffy bedspread has been laid out on it with matching pink fuzz pillows. The frame of the bed reminds me of a princess bedframe, the kind that you can pull currents around. It does have currents - see through bubble gum pink ones. Three's white nightstands on either side of the bed. The left bedstand has a vase filled with pink camellias, and white lotuses. There's a bowl on the right table, filled with apples, peaches, and plums. Tucked in the corner is a vanity set, separated from the bed by double doors. Once again, the vanity is made with light pink wood and a huge mirror, big enough to see most of myself in it. The seating chair is fuzzy pink just like the bedding.

I step into the room, taking in the rest of it. The right side is just as packed as the left but doesn't seem so from the space the room takes up in the world. A huge flat screen tv takes up a lot of the upper wall. Under the tv is a barn styled table, the middle open but the sides covered with mini versions of barn doors. Just like the rest of the room, this furniture is made with white wood. How am I going to keep all this white looking clean? Set on top of the table is two box looking things. One's a vertical white and black thin box and the other is horizontal black box with an X-ed out circle.

To the left of the TV is another door, but this time it's only a single door. To the right of the screen is a - white - desk with three different sized drawers attached to it. I'm really starting to dislike the color white. One the desk is a sleek black box, thinner than the box sitting on the tv stand. Above the desk is two matching - empty shelves. The wall behind me is bear, nothing on it but the marbled color. Another pink fuzzy chair is sat in front of it.

"It's very... pink," I finally say, nervously glancing around the room as anxiety builds in my chest. The room feels too clean with all the white, making me feel dirty. The white looks terrible against the walls. The pink looks even worse. What the fuck did the Waynes do? Google girl and buy any pink furniture they could find?

"Ya... none of us really know how to buy for a girl. We kind of panicked and bought everything in white and pink," Tim mumbles, stepping into the room too. He's closer to me than I'd like, closer than my anxiety likes. "Once you get settled in and such, we'll have a spray paint party or something. Get everything the color you'd like."

"Okay," I mumble, stepping towards the bed to get away from the guy in this room. My room. The guy in my room. This room is gross. I don't want to live within these four walls. I don't want to live in this building. I'd rather starve on the streets of Gotham than feel like I'm a dirty rat pretending to live a lifestyle like this. "Is it okay if I set my bag down?" I ask, eyeing the bed spread.

"It's your bedroom, you can do whatever you want." Tim says, walking up next to me. There's more room between us this time but it doesn't stop my anxiety from sparking. "What are five things you can see?" He asks, eyes locked on me.

"What?" I ask a bit confused, trying to calm my breathing down as I gently set my bag on the bed sheets. I end up moving it to the floor in fear of ruining the bed spread.

"Just humor me, what are five things you see?" Drake asks again, plopping on the bed, spreading out with his arms over his head and his legs dangling off the edge.

"The red flowers in the garden... and double doors that lead to god knows where... and useless see through curtains... and empty bookshelves... and you, lying on the bed."

"Laying on your bed," Mini-Me corrects, closing his eyes as he stretches his back out. "Close your eyes and tell me four things you can hear."

"I don't want to close my eyes," I say, panic spiking in me.

"You don't have too; it just helps your ears focus."

I think it over for a second before softly closing my eyes, ready to snap them open at any sign of Tim moving. It takes a second for me to calm down enough to focus. "I can hear the floorboards shifting," I answer, falling silent again to find another sound. "I can hear the buzzing of the boxes over there," I continue, nodding towards the tv. "I can hear my heartbeat, and your breathing."

"Three things you can smell?"

I snap my eyes open, glaring down at the rich boy laying in front of me. What's up with these questions? Is he making a joke out of me? Is he trying to train me like the puppy everyone sees me as? I take a few deep breaths, running Noah's words through my head. "I can smell the flowers." Tim hums, continuing to stare at the ceiling. He's not stretching anymore. "I smell old spice, I think?"

"Jason wears old spice cologne," Drake mumbles, leaning up to glance at me before going back to the ceiling.

"And I smell the like woody scent of... well, wood."

Drake hums again before ordering me around again. "Two things you could taste?"

"The fucking apples and peaches in the fruit bowl. Kind of tacky of you guys," I snap out, the words coming out pretty harsh. That's not very 'sticking it out' of me.

"And one thing you can feel?" He asks, sitting up and looking at me. His eyes are filled with curiosity, which ticks me off a bit. I'm not a zoo attraction. Stupid rich people.

I glare at the boy for a bit before glancing down at the bedding. I carefully run my fingers over the fuzz, letting it envelope my fingers in warmth. "This obnoxious bedding."

Tim chuckles a bit, sliding over so his outer thigh is grazing my hand. "I suffer from anxiety too. Checking your environment and vocalizing it tends to fill your head and helps you forget you're going to have a panic attack." He smiles at me, tilting his head some as he looks at me. "What color do you want your furniture?"

"It's fine as is."

"It's not. This is going to be your home - or at least where you'll be staying. Your room is supposed to be your safe space. You can't feel safe if you don't feel comfortable."

I think it over for a second, glancing around the room. "Well, I'd prefer for all the wood things to be black. Maybe change all the seating to something not pink. Maybe red fuzz. Well, not the bedding, or the couch. I like the couch being white," I rush out, looking anywhere but Grayson's Mini-Me.

"What color bedding do you want?" Tim asks me. I can still feel his eyes burning into me but from how soft his words are I don't think he means them to burn.

"I don't know. I just... don't like all the pink or the see through curtains."

"Well, once we get you new bedding, we will find some not see through and not pink curtains to match," Drake hums, standing up next to me. He's really close but this time it doesn't cause my anxiety to spike. "So, the door next to the bed leads to a walk-in closet. There's nothing in their but empty shelves and hangers for now. The door over there," He says, pointing towards the tv wall, "is your bathroom. There's nothing in there yet because we didn't know what kinds of soaps and such you like so when we go out later today, we'll get you that stuff too, okay?"

"Are the towels and curtain pink?" I ask, turning my head towards Mini-Me.

"Bruce wanted to get you pink towels but Alfred, somehow talked him into red ones. We forgot to get you a curtain so no there's no pink in the bathroom," he answers, a big smile on his face. "I'm going to let you look around and get settled, okay? My room is to the right of yours if you need me and to the left is... well Jason is to the left, but Bruce said if that makes you uncomfortable, we can move you to a different room," Tim stumbles over the second half, eyeing me up and down as he pushes the words out.

"It's fine," I say, scouting away from Tim. The idea of being alone and having the chance to air out my thoughts is the only relief I've felt today.

Drake hums again, glancing over me before settling on my eyes. "Just come knock if you need anything, okay? Anything," He repeats, doing another glance over before walking out. The sound of the door closing behind my new roomie fills me with both peace and fear. I'm glad to finally be alone for the first time these past couple of days and also terrified of this big, expensive room and the people that are paired with it. Why couldn't I just be happy with the pink? I'm causing unnecessary waves in a house I don't want to be in, for people I don't want to be around let alone get to know.

———————————

After a couple of hours I'm a little looser. The pink and white are still obnoxious but when Tim checked in on me he assured me that it'll get changed and that there wasn't an issue fixing it. I still feel bad for coming off so ungrateful.

About two or three hours ago Noah left but promised he'd stop by in a couple days to check in on me. Since Noah left the thought of leaving this room has terrified me. I haven't unpacked or even taken off my shoes yet. I'm sitting in the middle of the room, criss-crossed on the dark red carpet, terrified of touching anything in case I mess it up.

Three soft knocks fill the room, quickly followed by a "Lady Todd?"

Lady Todd? What the fuck is that? I'm not a lady. Well... I am technically a lady but what the hell? "Lady Todd? Are you alright? May I enter?" Comes the smooth voice again.

Anxiety claws up my spine and my breath picks up as I quickly stand. Who's at the door? What do they want? Why can't the Waynes just leave me to rut in this room until I turn 18?

     Think of things around me. Vocalize my environment. What do I see? "I... I see... um-"

     My whispers are cut off by more knocking. This time the knocking lasts longer and is more panicked. "Lady Todd? Lady Todd? Please answer the door," The voice says, a panicked undertone laced in his words.

     His panic makes me panic, causing me to freeze in my steps. "I'm coming in, Lady Todd," they say, slowly turning the door knob and pushing my door open. The doorman from the other day pokes his head in, looking around the room before settling his eyes on me. "Are you alright, Lady Todd?" He asks, straightening up before taking a step in the room.

I glance between the older man and the door he left wide open. How hard would it be to push past him and run away? He's an old man so it couldn't be that hard right? "I'm fine," I peep out, shifting my weight between my feet.

     "Well that's good, Lady Todd. You had me worried for a second." The old man takes a couple more steps into the room, luckily leaving plenty of room between us still. I see spookily ass black walls. "I didn't mean to cause panic. I just... I've been reestablishing my familiarity with the American Foster System and I read that while in distress of new situations some young adults have... unethical ways to deal with the situation."

A laugh at this statement before I can stop myself. "Are you asking me if I'm suicidal?" I mange to squeeze out between laughs.

"Well... I suppose so," the old man says, glancing to the side before looking at me again. "Master Drake has informed me of your... overwhelm-ness earlier today."

"Well don't worry old timer. If I decide to die I wouldn't do it in the house. Wouldn't want to ruin the carpets, you know?"

A small smile crosses his wrinkly face but pity is still very evident in his eyes. "Your consideration is appreciated Lady Todd, but please don't harm yourself." I hum in response, crossing my arms and glancing around the room. "I've made a pot of tea for Master Drake - it helps with his anxiety. Would you like a cup?"

"I'm not a big tea drinker."

"Perhaps hot cocoa then? And maybe a sandwich. You've had a long day, I'm sure you're hungry."

I think about it for a second. The promise of food and the hunger that's been rattling around my stomach overrides the fear of leaving the room I've been planted in all day. "I could go for a sandwich, I guess," I mumble, shoving my hands into my pockets and shifting my weight again.

     "Well then I'll show you the way to the kitchen, My Lady," the man says, turning on his heels and heading out of the room.

     I fall behind, making sure to keep a few paces between us. "So Lord-" I start, a bit confused as the word tumbles out.

     "Alfred, just Alfred," he says, glancing over his shoulder at me.

     "Well why are you 'just Alfred' and I'm not 'just Y/N'?"

     "Since you're so directly related to Master Wayne, you inherit his title along with being in line to inherit the Wayne family properties, and the fortune too, of course. If you want to get technical, since you are the only lady of the manor - and family line - you're mistress of the house but I think lady is better suited for your age."

     I roll the words over in my head, a bit stunned. I thought Alfred was being nice, not that it was an actual title that I supposedly have. "So like what happens if one of Bruce's other sons have a girl? Would I lose my title of 'mistress'?" I ask, carefully watching Alfred as he props the kitchen door open for me.

     "At the moment the only way you would lose your title and simply be a lady of the manor is if Master Wayne married. Down the line, upon Master Wayne's passing, Master Grayson would become the Master of the manor and once again, you'd only lose your title upon him getting married."

     "So like it's an age thing that only gets over ridden my marriage?" I ask, walking through the door and being met with the semi-familiar uncomfortably sized kitchen.

     "Pretty much so," Alfred says, letting the door swing shut behind him. "Please take a seat."

     I obey, sliding into one of the stools sat in front of the coffee island. "So let's say in a bazaar turn of events Grayson gets married tomorrow, then would I lose my title?"

     "You would not since Master Wayne is still the head of the house. So, if for whatever reason Master Grayson gets married tomorrow, you would not drop down to just a lady of the house until Master Wayne dies and Master Grayson becomes head of the manor."

"Oh," I whisper, watching as Alfred starts pulling out stuff to make my sandwich. "I can make it myself."

"Absolutely not. You are a lady of the house. It's mine - along with the Masters' - job to ensure you're needs are fulfilled and that you're every beckon call is answered," Alfred says, a bit of a huff following his words.

"My every beckon call?"

"Every beck and call," He repeats, opening the fridge and looking around.

"Say I want, I don't know, 50 blue feathers at three in the morning?"

"Then me or one of the Masters would go find 50 blue feathers. What kind of sandwich would you like Lady Todd?"

     "I don't care what kind," I mumble, looking over the older man. This is insane. I'm suppose to believe that ever man in this house's sole purpose is to serve me? What kind of backwards ass sexist shit is that? "Isn't that like the opposite of the world?" I finally ask, watching as Alfred carefully crafts my food.

"I suppose so. The Wayne Masters have always believed the only people superior to themselves are the ladies of the house. After all, without the ladies of the manor none of them would be here. Blind obedience and love for women of the bloodline is something Master Wayne - and his father before him - live their lives by."

"Live their lives by?" I ask, watching the maid - maybe? - place my plate in front of me.

"Yes, Bruce's father never made a single decision without the permission of his wife, whether it be what socks to wear or to sign a new business partner."

"I don't want to make those decisions," I say, my anxiety spiking up again as I bite into my sandwich.

Alfred chuckles a little before starting to clean up the left out sandwich supplies. "Well since you're the granddaughter of the head of the manor and not the wife your role will be quite a bit different."

"How so?" I ask between bites. I didn't realize how hungry I actually am until I started eating which is a bit depressing if I think too much about it.

     "Well, you'd be more of an advisor than anything else. Someone to bounce thoughts off of," Alfred tells me, glancing at my plate before opening a few cabinets. “If I’m honest with you Lady Todd, with three uncles and your father being ahead of you in the inheritance line, you’ll probably spend your life being pampered and getting to do as you please with your life.”

“No one gets to truly do what they want,” I answer back, my tone a little snippy.

“You do,” Alfred says, opening a bag of chips and dumping some on my plate. “You come from a family with unlimited resources to everything in the world. A family who’s blood line’s whole purpose it to serve you in anyway you want. Nothing is impossible when it comes to you.”

I eye the grandpa standing in front of me, his face suddenly so hard. I mentally roll my eyes, picking at the chips on my plate. “So if I tell Bruce I want to go on a date with Kid Flash he’d just make it happen?”

“Of course, though I’m sure Master Grayson wouldn’t be too thrilled about that.” What the fuck is that supposed to mean? This guy really wants me to believe that Bruce Wayne knows kid flash? I’m stuck in a house full of weirdos with service kinks.

“Pennyworth? Is Todd’s girl here yet?” A voice comes from outside the kitchen door. Following the words, the door is quickly pushed open. A smaller version of Drake stands in the door way. Mini-Me’s mini-me doesn’t have blue eyes though, he has green eyes. What the fuck is up with Wayne’s obsession with mean mugged raven-haired boys? “Oh, hello Todd.” I should have ran when I had the chance.

———————————————————————

[maebyshifting]

i feel like sometimes we try to justify our reasons for shifting. like “i shift for adventures” “i shift for a specific person” “i shift to escape this reality” etc. if you want to shift that’s good enough reason honestly. even then you don’t need a specific reason.

just a thought idk go shift besties!

[mercurygray]

Release, for Fred & Brady? 💙

I hope you don't mind, Killy, but I decided to use this as a second part to this piece.

She'd made a terrible mistake.

It wasn't that she'd kissed him - or been kissed, however you wanted to think about it. It wasn't even that she'd run away afterwards - she stood by that decision, even if her knees still hurt from the jump down, and her hands were still sore.

It was that he'd gone out this morning and she hadn't said a word goodbye.

She'd offered to take the early morning shift making the donuts, so she wouldn't have to see anyone, but Mary had places to be in the afternoon and wouldn't swap, so she'd been on coffee duty with Tatty, just outside the briefing room. She was one of them now, part of their good luck charms and superstitions. Hambone would only take a donut if she passed it with her left hand and Curt always spilled the first sip of his coffee, for the angels, and John - John always said good bye and she always said good luck and he'd always say "I won't need it" with one of those small smiles of his.

But not today. Today he hadn't said a word - only glanced at her, and then just as quickly looked away, and he'd gotten in the truck without a word to anyone, his face stormy and closed.

She felt like she had been left holding something - a package that didn't belong to her, a parachute. Good …luck. But what if he needs it today? Superstition closed those loops - if they'd spilled their coffee and made their jokes and wore their sweaters backwards and carried their lucky snow globes then they'd done all they could possibly do, and the rest of it was with God, or Fate. She'd spent the day in nervous watchfulness, waiting for the sound overhead that would let her know that they were back, that it was time to count them in, that she could finally give him back this thing that she'd been carrying for him all day long.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen - everyone back home. A minor miracle, even if someone's engine was on fire, and she could hear, from the far side of the airfield, the rising whine of the siren calling out the fire brigade and the ambulances.

Up in the control tower, she knew that Mae and Cord and Anita would be talking to the pilots on the radio, assessing and evaluating, relaying the information back to where it could be acted upon, and after they got out, those that could get out were bussed over to interrogation, and then they'd come to her - end the day as they had started, with a cup of coffee and a donut, so that Major Bowman and Captain Brennan and Phoebe and the rest could ask them how it had gone, where the flak was worst, how many bombs they'd dropped and whether they'd dropped true, whether the luck they'd carried with them had truly been lucky.

They were always quieter now then when they'd gone out in the morning - no jokes, no laughter. She'd heard Captain Brennan call what they did 'returning to themselves' and so they were. Here was Dickie, and here was Curt, small smiles and grateful gulps of coffee and bourbon as Doc Stover checked them over on the way in. Egan, putting on some sort of smile like he thought she and Tatty would believe him untouched by this.

And here he was.

She was glad there was a table between them. The things she wanted to do wouldn't have stood up to close observation - to grab his arms, observe the cuts on his face from the raw edges of his mask, brush his hair out of his eyes. And her lips longed for his skin - to kiss every last inch of him, to be close the way they'd been close last night in his plane, with the sunset dying around them, and see if it would make him smile the way he'd smiled yesterday, since he certainly wasn't smiling now.

He tossed back his bourbon and didn't even glance at the coffee, and her heart was the heaviest it had been all day.

Phoebe had his table - nine men. Someone was missing and she couldn't tell who. The room emptied; he grabbed his bag and headed back outside, and she did something she wasn't supposed to - she followed him.

"John! Wait!"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him around the side of the hut, and when she kissed him, it was like pulling the release cord on that parachute, because everything was falling, but slower and steadier, and his hands were light on her hips, and when they stopped, foreheads touching, she felt like she was on solid ground again.

"Fred." There was a touch of wonder in his voice.

"I'm sorry," she said, her words coming out in a jumble. "I'm sorry I let you leave like that this morning and I'm sorry I ran away and I'm sorry I'm scared." I don't like breaking rules, but I'll do it for you. "But don't you ever forget to say good bye again," she threatened with a waver in her voice that made him laugh, and tighten his hands on her waist. "Now, you - you can't be jealous when I dance with everyone else. And you can't be angry when someone else makes me laugh. And I can't always sit with you, or hold hands with you, or even kiss you. But I'll be yours," she said, feeling like she was flying and falling and foolish for all of it. "Your …best girl."

"And Curt's," he added, with a waver of laughter in his voice, his eyes as blue as oceans. "I'd fight him but I know I'd lose."

The truth of that was worth the laugh. "And Curt's."

"And since when do you call me John?" She punched him in the arm for that, but the truth was the truth, whether she liked it or not. "But Curt doesn't get to do this," he said, and kissed her again. She closed her eyes, as light as air, and thought of sunsets and sunrises and all the luck in the world that had brought her here.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!!

would you be interested in writing something with steve (or any of the boys you write for) learning asl for their hard of hearing partner?

if not i totally understand!! luv ya 🩷🩷

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

Steve Harrington x hearing imparied!reader ♡ 558 words

“This is embarrassing,” Robin signs. 

“It is not.” You grin, rolling your eyes at her. “It’s sweet. He’s trying.” 

“SLOWER,” Steve finger spells, every letter emphatic. 

“Sorry,” you say aloud, laughing. “We were just—”

“Just talking about how embarrassing this is for you,” Robin says.

“No,” you look at Steve, but he’s only rolling his eyes, “we weren’t.” 

“I’ll bet she was,” he says into your ear, draping an arm across your shoulders. The three of you are taking up the entire sidewalk, not that anyone’s downtown to mind. One of the perks of Steve working the night shift at Family Video is that now he actually wakes up before noon to do things with you before work, and during summer in Hawkins you won’t find many people out in the mornings. It feels like you’ve got the town to yourselves. “Some of us weren’t in the special classes in high school, though.” 

“Hey, if you thought it was more worth your time to practice your keg stands,” Robin skips ahead of you, turning around and spreading her hands helplessly, “that was your prerogative. I’m just saying that if anyone is Y/N’s soulmate, it’s looking like it’s me.”

You see the look in Steve’s eyes and know what he’s about to do a second before he signs, “Shut up,” with enough gusto to make Robin’s high school ASL teacher proud. You’d taught him that one last week, and it’s been his favorite sign ever since. His most practiced by far. 

Robin only sticks out her tongue. You smile as Steve tugs you closer against his side, his skin and the material of his shirt sun-warmed against your arm. You love how badly he wants to do this for you. Every night for the past couple of weeks, you’ve been teaching him, and though Steve gets frustrated easily, he’s determined. The other day, you’d caught him signing “cereal” absentmindedly to himself while looking through the pantry. 

You know he’s learning because he’s a sweetheart and wants to make things easier for you, but Robin swears he just feels left out of the club. 

“Okay, I’ve got a question.” Steve retracts his arm and turns to you, walking sideways. His face goes serious as he concentrates. “Do. You. Want. To.” He signs every word, so intentional. Bless him, he’s trying so hard. “Go. Get…” He finishes the last sign, and you and Robin both burst out laughing. 

His face falls. “What?” he asks aloud.

“Steve,” you say around a giggle, “where did you learn that?” 

Steve looks lost for approximately one more second, and then his eyes narrow on Robin. 

“You can’t blame me for taking the easy shot,” she says. There are tears in her eyes. “You’re just too gullible.” 

“What did I say?” he asks, and you lean up to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god.” He rolls his eyes at Robin. “What are you, twelve? I was trying to ask if you wanted pizza, you pervs.” 

“Maybe just take lessons from me from now on.” You take his hand, intertwining your fingers. Steve huffs and tugs you closer. 

“Wait,” he says, “so, does this—” he signs with his free hand “—not mean ice cream?” 

“Oh, honey.” You try to look sorry for your boyfriend, but it’s hard when you’re grinning so big. “No, it doesn’t.”

[liknws]

[ 001 ] Brand Spankin' New.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: lee minho x reader/oc ⎯⎯ TAGS: enemies with serious tension, childhood friends to enemies, revenge eras, college au, angst, bad humor bc i'm not as funny as i think i am, misunderstandings, unrequited feelings ⎯⎯ RATING: 18+, mature ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: drug use (weed), excessive cursing, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of sex and sexual themes (non explicit) ⎯⎯ WORD COUNT: 4k (4.972)

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: karma (kar·ma) defined as "(in hinduism and buddhism) the sum of a person's actions in this and previous states of existence, viewed as deciding their fate in future existences". you've always been a big believer in karma and the universe, knowing that eventually all energy is returned. so when your life is ruined by someone you used to call your best friend, you wonder why karma is taking it's sweet time in retaliating against him. what hurts more is your university won't punish something based on hearsay and so it's up to you to find the proof that lee minho is an evil mastermind and get his ass removed from school for good.

[ masterlist ]

“Did you guys see her newest tweet?” There’s a voice off to the right but you’re not paying much attention. The smoke curls around you in a comforting way that has you leaning back on the beanbag and letting out a content groan. You know exactly what they’re talking about, you’re the one who posted the tweet after all. Not that they know that, no one knows that. Not even your best friends, the people that you’ve shared every embarrassing detail of your life with.

“How do you know the account is a woman?” One of those aforementioned best friends speaking up. Mae, the calm to your storm, the one you find yourself relying on more and more these last few weeks. She never left your side, even supported your idea to take that much needed leave of absence from school after he ruined your life.

But the new year is here, the fall semester officially starts in one week and it’s the first day of rush. The weather is cooling off from the blistering summer, the leaves are changing, and you decided to take their lead and change with them. No more wallowing, no more hiding in your apartment while everyone else has a life without you. Your break is done, you kept up your end of the deal with the dean to take your finals when it came time. You passed, thankfully, and that meant you could start your third year of university with a clean slate.

The discussion draws you back in, hearing the argument about who the mysterious twitter account holder could be. The voice, belonging to the boy Mae had invited, continues. “The way they hate him, it has to be an ex.” You want to snort but instead you just shift in the beanbag, wondering if you laid here long enough if it would just swallow you slowly like quicksand. “You had to admit, he’s dated some questionable people in the past. I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to do this.”

You remain silent, best to not say anything in case you come off a little too smug or a little too prideful of that last tweet. Really you’re not the one coming up with most of the tweets, people are sending so many messages to the anonymous twitter account that you’re having a hard time working through them all. Some are good ones, things you schedule to post through the day. Some messages, you can attest, are from some of his more unstable exes. Those you just delete when you get them, deciding not to entertain the possible storm that could create.

“Who’s dated questionable people?” A new voice, one familiar that raises the imaginary hackles on your back. Really if you were a cat you’d be puffed up and hissing at the newcomer, claws swiping at him to leave.

“Your best friend.” The words taste like venom dripping from your tongue as you open your eyes, settling them on Jisung with a sneer. He at least has the decency to shrink away from your glare. He looks startled, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be there at all. Maybe he’s terrified because of the vitriolic tone you used in addressing him. You don’t care, you don’t want him in your safe circle, sucking up the smoke that’s keeping you calm.

“You’re- I-” He stammers, rubbing the back of his neck while looking away from you. “I didn’t know you were going- that you’re here.” So he didn’t expect you to return after his mentioned best friend had broken you so deeply, left you with scars that lingered and barely healed. Some days they were fresh wounds, some days they were scabs that you couldn’t stop picking at. Today it’s a bright pink scar, tender and the slightest brush makes you wince in pain.

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost, Han Jisung.” You level him with your gaze again, watching with a satisfied smirk as he shrinks further away from you. You say his name like a curse, as if it’s the most horrific sounds your lips have shaped.

“Stop.” The singular word draws your look from Jisung to your best friend, catching her eyes and you calm down a little. She presses a hand to your thigh, fingers gripping into your thigh in warning. “Hi, Jisung. Are the other’s here?” She glances around, looking past him in search of those other six familiar faces. You wonder the same thing but she’s always been the softer of you two, the quiet breeze compared to your tempest winds.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re, um, around.” He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. The others in the circle, the few people you were just talking to and passing the blunt around with have gone silent as they watched the exchange. They all know why you glare at the chipmunk cheeked boy, why you spit venom at him every time you open your mouth. It’s the worst kept secret on campus, how Lee Minho had all but sold out your body as a prank. You don’t like thinking about it but it’s hard not to be reminded when strangers stare at you in pity, or you’re reminded when his friends are around.

“Tell them I say hi,” you say to him, shifting to sit up a little in the beanbag. He takes a step back like he expects you to pounce on him, teeth bared and claws extended. Instead you just smile at him, tight lipped before reaching for the joint that’s passed your way. You turn attention back to your circle of people, clear that your words were meant as dismal. You almost feel bad for the dejected look in Jisung’s face as he walks away.

“Hey.” Mae’s grip on your thigh tightens just slightly, a gesture to grab your attention. She’s looking at you with too inquisitive eyes. “Do you want to go home?” Truthfully, yes, you do; leaving now means that he wins again and you refuse to give that satisfaction. No doubt Jisung has already run back to his group to tell them he saw you. Your suspicions are confirmed when two familiar faces poke around the corner. It reminds you of a cartoon, just the sight of two heads extended past the wall, one on top of the other.

When they spot you, the shorter of the two bolts out from behind the cover of the wall and all but runs to you. Your name is slurred a bit in greeting, his lanky arms wrapping around you before you can protest. You have just enough forethought to pass the joint to Mae before he’s on you.The awkwardness of the beanbag you’ve chosen for the night means he either can crouch to greet you but it wouldn’t be Felix if he did things the normal way. Instead he lays on top of you, face buried into your neck as he hugs you tightly. He might be Minho’s friend but he’s been your sunshine since you met last year.

So you allow his crushing hug. “Nice to see you too, Lix.” You’d hug him back if you could but he’s got your arms in the vice grip he’s calling a hug and they’re trapped at your sides. You resign to your fate, even letting out a soft laugh as he clings to you. You catch a little of what he’s mumbling into your neck, though you do catch how happy he is to see you and that he missed you while you were gone.

The second of the two walks over with his hands shoved into his pockets. You can tell by the way he’s holding back a smile he’s just as happy to see you but his affection is far less physical than Felix. You catch his eyes, giving the best wave you can while still trapped under your sunshine “Hyunjin, hey.” As much as you had wanted to hate them for their association with Minho, it was impossible and you were quick to forgive them for their unfortunate choice in friends. They at least respected you enough not to mention him around you and effectively let you carve out a small part of the dance department that wasn’t tainted by him.

“Ji said he saw you so Felix had to come find you.” Hyunjin offers as a greeting and explanation, reaching down to grab his best friend by the collar of his leather jacket and hoist him off you. “Are you coming back?” He’s never been one to beat around the bush with you, something you respect. “We’ve missed you around the department.”

You feel a warmth in your chest that’s been gone since you left last year. While the leave of absence had given you time to heal, it had also left an emptiness in you that you know was because you were missing such a huge piece of yourself. Dance had always been your safe place, always been your home whenever you needed it. The idea of leaving your apartment had put such a crippling fear into you that you thought you would never be able to return. It had taken months of hard work but you felt okay enough to return, to fall back into the warmth of a dance studio again.

“Mhm,” you offer as confirmation, nodding as well. Their smiles are infectious, eyes crinkling and lifting a dark cloud you hadn’t realized was lingering. In the most dignified way that you could, you stood from the beanbag. “I’ll see you guys later, I need some air.” You looked to Mae who rose with you but gestured at her to stay, you really only intended to slip out the front door for a quick breath of fresh air before coming back.

You part from the circle, patting both Hyunjin and Felix on the arm as you pass, before walking out the front door. It’s a lot more quiet outside on the front lawn. The party wasn’t a rager by any means, more of a too large gathering with slightly loud music and drinks to share. Tame in comparison to some parties you knew would be going on across campus. You had purposely avoided Greek Row, knowing those parties would be exactly that. You hadn’t counted that the people you were also looking to avoid wouldn’t be throwing their own party on the Row.

A handful of people are mingling outside, not one person paying attention to you as you take a seat on the steps. The concrete is chilly underneath you, coupled with the cooler night air and it sends a shiver through your body. The calm out here has done exactly what you wanted, cooled down your temper and brought your beating anxiety to a manageable level. Seeing Jisung had done more than you wanted to openly admit to yourself, knowing that behind the producer lurks the reason for your anxiety. You needed to flee before you caught eyes with the rest of the group.

You’re unsure how long you’ve been sitting out here, you’re only vaguely aware of people coming and going from their own breaks of the party. The cold metal of the railing pressed into your forehead is comfortable, eyes closing a bit as you relax into the iron banister. The music from the house raises in volume and then quiets again, your assumption being that when someone opens the door and closes it again. You assume you haven’t been out here long because Mae has not come to find you but you wonder if that’s wrong too as a jacket settles over your shoulders.

The smell is familiar and warm, woodsy and deep and full of memories that you can’t seem to bring to the surface no matter how hard you try. You know the smell, you can’t figure out why you do, but it brings a sort of comfort nonetheless that has you pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders and burying your nose into the collar. The music is loud and then muffled once again and you’re left alone outside with your new jacket and your fuzzy thoughts.

Only when your mouth feels a little too dry and your ass has gone numb from sitting on the cold steps, you finally wander back into the party. Mae’s moved from the spot you left her in and you’ve got enough sense to text her to check on her. A quick exchange, making sure she’s okay. Confirmation from your roommate tells you that she’s alright and you don’t need to wait for her if you want to go home. A simple thumbs up emoji on the message and a thanks for the jacket are sent before closing your phone. You don’t see her confused reply, asking what jacket since she didn’t give you anything.

A red cup pulled from the stack and run under the tap for a drink of water is your destination. The slightly earthy taste from the water is a comfort, reminding you of warm weather back home and spending sweltering days in ponds and lakes to cool off.

Your arms slide through the sleeves of the jacket, settling into the warmth of its soft fabric. The sleeves extend just a little past your fingers, you realize. Mae must have grabbed it from her date, you think, raising the cuff to your nose to practically nuzzle into the hem. It’s a soft jacket and you don’t want to give it back and you wonder if you can convince her to let you keep it as a roommate tax for letting her invite a date to what was meant to be a girl’s night out. Not that you can really blame her, you guess. You’ve spent nearly every waking minute together and most nights cuddled in her bed instead of your own. The nights are the worst, that’s when the anxiety and the fears settle in like they’re meant to call your chest home.

Without your roommate to wait on, you don’t see the point in staying at the party much longer. The place is still as lively as it was before but your social battery is nearing zero quickly and the call of your bed is strong. You won’t admit that the sight of that group has ruined your night, the good mood you were clinging to so desperately has gone with it. Your phone is back in your hand, a quick text to the house chat to let them know you’re headed home and don’t worry about being quiet when they all arrive at their own times.

Lucy is the first to reply, sending a simple blue heart emoji. It makes you smile and you’re shoving your phone back into your pocket while using your other hand to pat down for the key to your apartment.

“Giving yourself a feel because no one else will?”

The voice makes your blood boil immediately, smiling slipping from your face as you turn to look at Minho. He leans against the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Silently cursing your luck, you just roll your eyes and go to walk away but a tug on the hood of your jacket halts your steps. An extremely undignified sound escapes at the yank of the hood and you’re flailing backwards for a second until a hand presses to the middle of your back to halt your fall.

“Falling for me?” He grins at you when you turn to face him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snap at him while shoving his hand off you roughly. You should have guessed Minho would show up once Jisung had spotted you, you should have made your escape then and never come back into the house. Now you’re living with the consequence of your decision to stay instead of just running then, all because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that even the idea of him sends you in the opposite direction.

His hands come up and make a gesture intended to placate the anger thrown his way. “Sorry.” Somehow you doubt his apology given that it’s coupled with that stupid, ugly smirk of his. “Heard you were back.” There’s a slightly awkward pause when you choose not to reply, arms crossing over your chest. A facial expression meant to tell him to go on or shut up settles over your face. “Can’t wait to see your introduction performance this year. Break a leg.” You choose to believe he’s mocking you, in no way do you trust his words to be sincere at all. It’s Lee Minho, he doesn’t know how to be sincere.

Eyes narrow as your stare levels on him, mouth opening to say something nasty in retort. The words die in your throat when a gentle hand clamps over your lips and pulls you backwards by your wrist. You watch as Minho is swallowed by the crowd as you’re dragged out of the kitchen and back into the cool air. Outside smells fresh and you wonder if there might be a storm tonight. Part of you hopes there might be, as a way to wash away everything tonight.

“Go home.” The words are barked at you. Oh right, someone dragged you here. Yanking your arm from their grip, rounding to look at them with the insult that was primed for Minho now ready to be flung toward your captor. His glare makes you stop, shrinking back just a little before remembering you’re not afraid of Christopher Bahng.

“I don’t remember you being in charge of my life.” Shoulders square, taking a step to stand toe to toe with him. Damn, did he get wider? You don’t remember him being quite so filled out. “And the bastard approached me first.” You note how his jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth when you argue with him, when you step closer and won’t back down from him. There’s that stupid voice in the back of your head to swing, that you could take him easily.

“Be the bigger person and go home, Cherry.” His voice is much softer but the look on his face doesn’t change. Your lips purse however at the nickname, sucking on your teeth in annoyance of his casual use of that name. He was the one who came up with it after all, him and Minho had adopted that name for you when you were much younger. A way to tease you for always wanting cherry flavored everything- popsicles to hard candies and everything in between. The name tugs at your heart just a little. Traitorous organ.

“Why do I have to be the bigger person?” Your refusal to back down doesn’t seem to bring a surprise, in fact he seems to have expected it. Once again he grabs you with that large hand, wrapping around your bicep and dragging you away from the house into the street.

“Still live at the same place? I’ll walk you home.”

“I don’t need a fucking escort, Chris.” You shrug his hold off. “Touch me again and I’ll break your hand. Make it hard to perform your live introduction piece with a shattered hand I bet.” There was once a time these threats would never have passed your lips in his direction, never at him. Only ever in his defense, only ever to protect those you cared about. Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away. Some bullshit like that.

“I’ll make sure Mae gets home safe but you need to go, okay? Just- please.” He almost seems.. desperate? You two are standing in the dark of the street, the street lights too spaced out to illuminate your faces. You can only assume his tone, unable to see the look on his face. If it was light you would see that his eyes are soft, pleading with you to just once listen to him. To take his warning and to go home.

“Awa’ an bile yer heid,” you mutter as you turn away from him and start walking to the bus in order to get back to your apartment. His concern leaves you lost for words, lost for a better retort so you just drop the first dismal you can come up with.

“Speak fucking English!” Chan shouts after you, laughing a bit. You don’t risk looking back, knowing you’d find him watching you with that smile. That smile and those stupidly adorable dimples of his. You raise a hand, sending him a single finger salute without looking back at him. Now that you’re truly alone out here, it feels colder as you walk to the bus stop. Pulling the jacket tighter around your middle, pulling the sleeves down further to hide your fingers from the chilled wind.

Just as you near the bus stop the first raindrop of the autumn season hits your cheek.

・❥・

  The morning is crisp after last night’s storm but the clouds have parted for the time. By the time you’re holding your second cup of coffee that morning, your other roommates have joined you out on the back patio in varying degrees of wakefulness. Lucy grumbles something and pulls the mug from your hands, much to your protest, and curls back in her lawnchair with your stolen mug.

“You came home early last night.” She breaks the settled silence, looking over at you.

“Aye, I was wanting to go to bed so my best friend could steal my coffee in the morning.” You’re attempting to reach for your coffee but she bounds out of the chair far faster than someone half awake should be able to. “Chris basically kicked me out.”

“Wait, kicked you out? I thought you weren’t going to Greek parties?” Elsie turns from where she was smoking and smushes the half smoked cigarette under her boot. “You know, to avoid him and his satanic best friend.”

“We didn’t go to the Row.” Mae comes to defense quickly, poking her head up from your lap, eyes opening for the first time since settling in on top of you. “They were there, not our fault. Jisung saw us first and then ran away to spread the news as quickly as he could.”

“That tiny chipmunk bastard can’t keep a single thing to himself, can he?” Elsie rolls her eyes, dropping into Lucy’s now abandoned chair. “Has to play Minho’s ever loyal bitch- ow.” Lucy’s fist remains on top of Elsie’s head where she’d knocked her knuckles into her sister’s head in warning. “Sorry. Loyal pet- fucking ow.” Elsie reaches up to swat at the other’s hand.

“Basically Minho was being Minho, trying to start something and Chris came to the rescue as always. He dragged me out of the house and told me to go home. Basically ordered me, the fucking bastard.”

“I love when you get angry and your accent is so thick I can barely understand you. Really love the mental workout this morning.” Mae loves to tease the three of you for your accents, according to her they make you almost unable to be understood when speaking English around the house. She often jokes that learning to speak Scots is now her third language.

“Lap privileges revoked.” You shift so her head is no longer in your lap, using the opportunity to stand as well. “I need to head to the studio anyway, finish working on this routine for the introductory performance next week.”

“Lu already packed you lunch. It’s in the fridge and your favorite water bottle is in the freezer to take with you too.” Elsie is quick to inform you with a grin. Lucy beams from where she’s sitting, eyes still closed as she drinks (your) her coffee.

“I’ll come with I need to finish mine,” Mae says between struggling yawns before heading to your shared room to get ready. When you tell her you’ll meet her outside she sends you a thumbs up over her head in acknowledgement.

・❥・

  “So whose jacket did you take home last night? I’ve never seen that one.” That same jacket that is thrown over one of the chairs in the corner with your bag. Your head lifts to follow her accusatory finger before dropping back down, the dull thud of your head hitting hardwood sounding a lot louder in the empty studio space than reality.

“I thought you gave it to me last night. When I went out to get air.”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ on the word. “Did you just steal a jacket?”

“Yah! I don’t just steal things. It was given to me, thank you very much.”

A contemplative hum through closed lips but she doesn’t say anything more. You can almost see the cogs turning in her mind and you want to ask what she’s thinking but the subject is changed quickly.

“How are you feeling about the dance?” She watches you in the ceiling to floor mirrors before turning to actually face you. Your head rolls to the side, looking at her now instead of staring up at the ceiling.

“Nervous. Director Yun gave me some really great advice and feedback after looking at my taped final. I don’t know, I’m really outside of my comfort zone here- but that’s the whole point right? I’m not here to perfect what I already know, I want to learn where I’m weak. How else can I be a big time choreographer if all I can do is a pirouette and a chassé.”

“You’re not doing ballet this year?” A new voice chimes into the conversation and you swear your eyes might just roll hard enough to fall out of your head. It would be far more preferable than this conversation. “So the old dog does know more than one trick.”

“We’re the same fucking age, Minho.” You're propped up on your elbows now, eyes narrowed as he stands in the doorway. He’s not alone of course, you note. He’s never alone. You wonder if he’s still holding the fear of being alone, that at the end of everything he’ll just be as lonely as he was before.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And I’m not going to.” Moving to sit up, you reach for the discarded canvas pirouette slips. “Leave so I can practice.”

“No.” You don’t even need to look at him to know that stupid smirk is there.

“No? The fuck do you mean no?” He ignores your question and walks in, Chan following behind. You watch the both of them with hands on hips before glancing back at Mae. The confusion and fury is written all over your face but the two newcomers are either choosing to ignore it or just don’t see it. You’d bet your life savings that it’s the former.

“You’re not the only person needing to practice for the introduction performance.” As if that is meant to explain why he’s trying to kick you out of the room you’ve been using. His dance bag drops on top of yours. “I’ll help you and then you can leave so I can use the room.”

“I don’t need your help.” You hate how it comes out more like a question. Stomping over, you grab his bag and shove it back at him. “The fuck do you have in there? Bricks? The fuck it’s so heavy for.” You attempt to shove him and his bag out the door but the canvas on your feet means you just end up sliding a little. Real dignified.

“You said you weren’t doing ballet this year for your dance. Seriously, let me help.” Wow, he almost sounds genuine. Which only makes you far more suspicious. Eyes narrow as he watches you, standing in silence that’s too heavy and too tense. The other two in the room don’t say anything, afraid of leaving with bite marks should they get between the two fighting cats.

“Fine,” you snap, dropping his bag and watching with pride as he fumbles it a little as he wasn’t really holding it. You toss a look to Mae that says more than you could voice right now. Surprisingly she’s already grabbed a couple chairs off the stack, presumably with Chan’s help, and sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. A cheerful thumbs up from her settles the butterflies you didn’t notice had taken up residence in your gut.

Minho is at your side in a beat, his stuff placed back on top of yours. A very are-you-for-real? look in his direction that he just gives you a smile, bunny teeth and all. Mae’s been in charge of the music and you give her a look through the mirror to start it again. On the count you step out into your first move and get lost again in the feeling of your body moving to the music. All you see is yourself in the mirror, critical of every single twitch of muscle and wrinkle of skin. You catch Minho’s eyes in the mirror and you can’t look away.

The intensity in his eyes is captivating, watching every small step and maneuver you put your body through. You’ve seen that look on his face before, years ago, when he would watch you practice your ballet routines or when he was helping with taekwondo. It’s somehow comforting to see him tracking your hands, your feet, watching how you throw your body through the air as if you’re made of a feather instead of a human body.

You can’t take your eyes off him watching you. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. All you can see is him. All he can pay attention to is you.

What you two don’t see is Chan and Mae shaking hands over a friendly bet and sharing knowing smiles.

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[limehaspassed]

Trepidation

(Thomas Hewitt x GN Reader)

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In which you learn the difference between the men in the house.

Chapter Two

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Chapter One

You’ve never seen such a large man, maybe one as tall, but never one with such broad shoulders and meaty arms. Even his legs held a girth to them that made other men look like boys. Never would you have ever thought that you would find your way across a man so large, but here you stood, eyes staring directly at what you could only describe as a giant.

“This is my youngest boy, Thomas.” Luda Mae, who had finally given you her name when you had woken earlier, spoke with an eager tone. There was an excited edge in her voice as if she was expecting something to happen.

You gave a nod and only continued to let your eyes search over the bewilderment of a man. Your eyes eventually made it to intense ones, their blue color set aflame with emotions you failed to recognize. Entranced you were in those pools of blue, unable to snap away from them, even when your brain wanted to observe the mask hiding Thomas’s face. The leather accessory confused you but stood second of interest when it came to his stare.

His eyes were deep, riddled with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint. Shades of blue swam about the iris, surrounding two pupils that shifted ever so slightly when he moved from one eye to the other. You felt small under his observing gaze, almost nervous as his own eyes searched for your own. You could practically feel his eyes scanning your body, tangible it was to your anxious mind.

When his eyes met yours again, they still held that same intensity but had softened around the edges. Pity and empathy began to flood his eyes, two emotions you could understand.

A sharp cough from the woman shocked you out of your stare, pulling your attention away from Thomas, and causing you to look over at the sound’s source.

With a giddy smile, Luda made her way up to you and placed a hand on your arm. “Now, Thomas will be showing you to you for the night. We’ll talk about your situation tomorrow, once you’ve gotten some restful sleep in your system…Tommy.” Luda had pulled you over to the man, her other reaching out and grabbing his arm as well. She pulled the two of you close enough for an awkward tone to settle down before pushing you out into the hallway.

“Dinner will be served ten after.” Luda called out as she disappeared into the kitchen, where she had dragged you off to only ten minutes earlier.

When you had awoken earlier for the second time, Luda had greeted you with a warm smile and a glass of water. She ordered you to drink it, which you quickly complied to, downing the whole glass in less than a second. The water had felt nice on your throat, which was far less irritated than before, thanks to the elongated nap you had indulged yourself on.

Luda had then ordered you to the kitchen, where she took a cool rag to your face, gently cleaning the skin. After that was when Thomas came in.

Looking over at Thomas, you gave a nervous smile, not sure of what to do. Thomas simply gave a grunt in response and began walking down the hallway. For a second, you stood there, eyes captivated by the back muscles that poked through the thin fabric of his shirt. Shaking your head, you didn’t waste a second longer to chase after him.

The two of you walked in silence until you reached a door, one that Thomas so kindly opened for you. You walked through the door, turned around, and thanked Thomas for his help. He gave a slight nod and left, closing the door behind him. Alone, in a house you didn’t know, you stood awkwardly in the threshold of the room.

Having turned around, your eyes scanned the room, the dust just as thick here as it was everywhere else. There was a small bed tucked in the corner, its bed sheets fraying at the end, the thin material apparent to you even from a distance. A dingy side table stood next to the bed, its legs bellowed and scratched. Atop of this end table set a lamp, one so shrewd it served more as an eyesoar rather than a light piece. Pictures with broken glass frames were hung upon the wall, as well as bookshelves filled with odd trinkets. A chair sat diagonal from the bed, a beaten dresser opposite, and a rug adjacent.

You walked further into the room, slowly making your way about the room. You observed the odds and ends that littered the shelves, picking some up for further observance. You walked over to the bed and pinched the sheet between your fingers, it practically felt like nothing. You opened the dresser, scanning through all the random garments that filled the drawers.

For a while, you went about the room and observed everything, taking it all in, the charm and all. That was until a knock rang through the room. You turned to the door and opened it, your eyes meeting those lovely blue ones from earlier.

“Dinner, already?” You asked, to which Thomas nodded.

You smiled and walked out of the room, letting Thomas close the door behind you. You waited patiently till he was ready to go, allowing him to lead the way.

As you walked, you noticed the paintings on the wall out here were similar to those back in your room. They were faded from the outside in, lined in a poor wooden frame. The colors, once bright and full of life, had long since turned to a dull and murky tone. The pictures saddened you, pressing a weight on your shoulder, a weight that wasn’t meant for you. However, you sympathized with these people, with these conditions in which you assumed they were stuck in.

You had only been here a day, only awake a few hours, but you’ve already built an opinion around the owners of this troubled house. Victims were to a dark world, a planet that sucked the life from their house as it had done to them. This was evident through the features in which Luda wore, in the eyes Thomas watched with.

Dark eyebags, thick and sagging, hung from Luda’s eyes, encapsulating the troubles she’s persevered through, the hardships she’s fought through. A mask, hiding all features of the face, held snug against the face, screamed a truth so loud it was hard for you to miss it. Thomas’s mask, the one he’s worn the entire time you’ve been here, tells you exactly how people have treated these two, beaten them down till they were both just another sunken house along the dry countryside.

A low grunt from Thomas alerted you that you were at your destination, allowing you to stop before running into his immovable stance. You gave him a smile and a small, “thank you,” before entering the kitchen. You could hear Thomas walk away after that, his loud steps slowly getting quieter until they disappeared.

Luda frantically mixing a pot while trying to chop an onion at the same time met your eyes. Rolling your sleeves up, you quickly washed your hands in the sink. “What can I do to help?” You asked.

Luda turned to you with a thankful smile. “I normally wouldn’t allow this but could you finish chopping this onion. I need it for the stew.” She replied, laying the knife on the counter and tending to the stew.

You quickly got to work finishing the onion and dropping it into the stew at Luda’s command. You then helped her set the table and start the kitchen cleanup.

Soon after that dinner was served and you were seated next to Thomas. Luda had sat you there but you didn’t mind. Thomas’s legs took up a lot of space under the table, however, you were more inclined to small spaces so you had no issue with it. He did hit his knee against the table a lot, a fact that scared you a bit the first few times it happened.

“So who do we have here? A new play toy for our dear ol Tommy?” A man in a sheriff's uniform asked, his voice loud and egotistical.

You felt your stomach turn at his words, already hating this man’s gut.

“They’re a visitor and would you mind your mouth.” Luda responded with a sharp tongue, a warning. For what? You didn't know.

A chill slipped up your spine, your eyes moving over to notice the Sheriff raking his eyes over you in a perverted way. You cringed at his stare, shrinking down in your seat. You averted your eyes and wished for him to do the same. You did not like the way he looked at you as if you were the meal being served, it frightened you in ways you’ve never thought you would be frightened in.

After a moment, the Sheriff spoke, eyes still glued to you. “A visitor? From where? What are you doing down here in this stretch of Texas? A fine youngin’ like yourself should be somewhere off in California or a rich man’s bed.” The Sheriff laughed at his own comment, a shrewd and grotesque laugh. The sound sent chills down your spine, alerting all of your senses to stay on guard.

Luda slapped the man on the arm. “Would you stop that, Charlie. This is no way to speak at a dinner table, especially when there are guests around.”

His eyes finally left and he turned to argue with Luda but you turned them out. You felt as if your skin was shifting along your body, clenching and unclenching in uncomfortable pinches. Your ears felt itchy and your eyes burned. Your stomach growled in illness, protesting food as your body physically cringed.

You did not like this Charlie character.

A gentle tap on your foot dragged you out of yourself. You looked over in the direction and was met with Thomas’s stare, sympathy filling his eyes once more. He reached his hand out towards your bowl and nudged it towards you. You stared down at the liquid inside the bowl before returning your eyes to his. A small smile spread across your lips.

Thomas blinked and continued eating his own food.

Picking up your own spoon, you slowly ate your own, not even paying attention to the flavor. Your mind was occupied with the interaction you just had with Thomas, the difference between his stare and the Sheriff’s.

A thud came from the end of the table as a chair hit the ground, Charlie making his exit in an angered haste. You watched the man leave before looking over at Luda, worry building in your throat.

She glared at where the man had once stood before refreshing her expression and turning towards you. “I’m sorry, dear. Would you like to finish your dinner, Tommy will bring you back to your room after. I’ve got to go.” You gave a firm nod to her words.

She turned to Tommy and spoke, “Could you show Y/N to their room once they’ve finished. I’ve got to go feed Monty.”

Thomas gave his own affirmative and Luda left. Now, it was only Thomas and you in the dining room, alone.

Awkwardly, you finished eating, not really knowing what to say or if you should even speak after all that. You decided not to say anything at all and just hurry up in finishing your food.

When you took your last bite, Tommy stood from the table, you followed suit. He gave a huff and walked away, you right behind him. The walk was faster, shorter than it was before. You had arrived at your door all too soon, wanting to spend more time with the giant of a man. He was a puzzle to you, one you wanted to solve and befriend.

“Thank you for taking me to my room. Have a good night, Thomas.” You spoke with a soft tone, keeping your voice down.

Thomas paused for a moment before giving a short grunt, turning and walking away. You watched him descend the stairs before entering the room.

Upon entry you made your way to the bed and laid down on it, not even trying to cover yourself with the sheets. Your body was so tired that it didn’t bother you how old the bed seemed, it was a bed and you needed a place to sleep. Despite the stiffness of the bed, you fell asleep quickly, slipping into unconsciousness with a wanted ease.

The night would go by quickly, leading into the following morning where you were greeted by a knock at the door.

Slowly, you made your way out of bed and over to the door, opening it to reveal Thomas. He took one look at you before heading into the room, walking over to the dresser, and taking a dress from within. He came back and handed it to you, clearly wanting you to change.

He stepped outside and closed the door, allowing you to change in privacy. You changed quickly and headed out of the room, meeting up with Tommy who stood outside the door.

This time, instead of leading you to the kitchen, he brought you to the living room where Luda was seated on the couch with a warm smile. Patting the seat next to you, she motioned you to come over. You thanked Thomas before heading over and taking a seat along the worn couch.

“So, dear, let’s talk about your stay here and how you came about in such a rough condition.”

Her words were simple, words you were expecting, but you still felt your heart drop. You weren’t ready, not at all.

“Shit.”

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Part 2/11

[iblameashley]

Whispered Understanding (Pt 3)

Military | Male | Gay

1,980~ words

Content: Angst, anger, physical violence, cuddling, fluff, gay stuff

Follow up to: Whispered Promises

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | John 'Soap' MacTavish

!!!SFW!!!

From a long moon-lit stroll on a beach, to a mission nearly gone wrong and finally ending with a cuddle in bed, Ghost and Soap navigate their relationship and the challenges it brings. Ghost grapples the hardest with keeping his promise to give it his all as he doubts his worth.

Tag List: @imcoughing

The air was thick with the smell of salt as Ghost and Soap strolled along the Egypt Bay beach just outside of London. The sun had long set and the beach was mostly empty, with a full moon illuminating their way.

“Are ye havin' a good time, Simon?” John asked with a gentle lilt.

Ghost nodded, his hands were burrowed in his coat pockets as the cold air whipped around him. Even with a face mask, his breath created wisps with every breath. He kicked at a rock, his eyes fixed on his boots as the sand shifted under his weight.

“It's peaceful here.” Was all he offered in response. The words were as uncertain as the feelings inside him.

There was a strained silence between the two. Soap peered at Ghost from the corner of his eyes, his heart turbulent with affection and concern. Ghost -Simon- had agreed to give dating a go, to give it his all, but he remained as stoic and guarded as ever. It was difficult for Soap to know if Ghost was fallowing through on his promise.

“D'ye remember our first mission together?” Soap asked, determined to break through whatever wall Ghost was hiding behind. “The crash site... the house...” he mused with a hint of nostalgia.

Ghost grunted, “How could I forget? You nearly got us both killed, charging into action without looking. Fuckin' muppet.” He chuckled.

“Aye, but we made one helluva team, anne it was thrillin', no?” Soap Grinned, nudging Ghost's arm gently with his elbow. “Got the job done, always do.”

Ghost stopped and Soap with him. After a moment, Ghost met Soaps eyes. Those chestnut eyes swirled with turmoil and anxiety, but under that was something more. Something that might have been a kindle of hope.

“Soap...” Ghost began hesitantly. “I want this to work between us. I really do. But you know as well as I do that out there” - He gestured vaguely at the wide ocean before them - “I'm a different man. I'm broken and ruthless... and here I'm just... Simon.” The words were pained.

Soap reached out and took Ghost by the arm, giving his bicep a squeeze. “Aye, and I'm just your Johnny. No rank, no expectations. Jus' me tryin' tae get to know the man behind the mask.” He gave a lopsided grin. “One step at a time, yeah?”

Ghost chose his words carefully, even though his body was already leaning into Soap. “I want that, but what if you don't like what you see behind this mask?” He said quietly, his brows furrowed. “I've never been a normal bloke, Johnny.”

“Oi, none of that talk! I know ye better than ye think, Simon.” Soap smirked. “Remember the late nights we'd share pints after a mission? Yer mask mae have been on, but yer eyes gave yer real self away.”

Soaps smile softened as he manoeuvred in front of Ghost and looked up at him. “I've seen yer heart, Si. A good man who's seen too much, just like me. I'm just offerin' ye a chance tae not do it all alone.”

Ghost searched Soaps eyes for the lie. It made him feel like shit to even consider Johnny, his Johnny, would lie. And as he searched those deep blues, he found no lie. No judgment or discomfort. What he saw was genuine affection, patience and care.

Ghost gave a small nod.

“Alright. One step at a time.”

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A few weeks later, Ghost and Soap had been tasked with infiltrating a remote terrorist compound nestled away in a remote area of Russia, just west of Kazakhstan to acquire intel. They were escorted by a few US Marines who also had a vested interest in the intel, and in the spirit of cooperation, Price liaised with Laswell and the Marine Corp.

But as usual, things went sideways and their presence was detected ahead of schedule, the mission became turbulent and violent. Gunfire had erupted as Ghost and Soap engaged the enemy. In the chaos, Ghost had lost track of Soaps position and acting rashly, abandoned the Marines and tried to flank the compound to draw fire away.

It was only afterwards that Ghost had realized that Soap had been pinned down and calling for backup as he took heavy fire. The mistake -his desire to protect Johnny- had nearly gotten Soap and the Marines killed. He would have also failed to get the intel on his own, assuming he had lived as well.

This all came to a head after the mission debriefing. Simon's anxiety and guilt had been building since exfil and it scared him. He understood his acting alone nearly compromised everything and lost Johnny. It was nearly enough to short-circuit his brain.

“My office, five minutes.” Price had snapped at Ghost as soldiers shuffled out of the briefing room.

Ghost gave him a curt nod. “Sir.”

As the corridor emptied and the soldiers went about their duties, Soap and Ghost were left alone. Standing there. Awkwardly.

Ghost began to step away, resolved to leaving the matter be, but Soap reached out and held firm to his arm. “Gho- Simon. Wait.”

Ghost's jaw clenched under his mask. “Don't.” He hissed. “Just don't.”

Soap gave Ghost's arm a brief squeeze before letting go and raised his hands placatingly. “Look, it all worked out. No one-”

“No one died because I got lucky!” Simon exploded. Weeks of pent up uncertainty and nearly failing a mission; almost loosing Johnny, finally surged free. “It could have easily gone south and you – and those Marines – could have paid the price for my mistake!”

“Aye, but its mae job tae watch me own arse, too.” Soap replied as he took a step forward, his voice low and calming. “We're a team, Si.”

Ghost seemed past reason at this point and shook his head. “Some team. I nearly got you killed because I...”

Ghost grabbed Soap by the vest and slammed him into the nearby wall. Soaps eyes were wide with shock before they narrowed into anger.

Ghost wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss Soap or beat the absolute shit out of him. Why was he mad at Johnny? It was his mistake!

Retaliating, Soap shoved Ghost off of him, watching him stumble backward.

“Aye, you made a stupid, emotional decision.” Soap agreed with a hint of annoyance.

That was enough to make Ghost see red. He reacted faster than his logic could keep up with, and he took a swing at Soap.

And Soap let himself get hit. Let himself be knocked to the floor.

“Do ye feel better now?” Soap asked as he massaged his jaw.

Simon hated being called out – especially after a fuck-up – but realizing what he did to Soap made his rage deflate. He felt the waves of guilt and shame wash over him, and stood there immobile. “Johnny...” he rasped.

Soap shook his head and slowly stood up.

“One hell of a right hook, LT.” Soap joked.

“Fuck off.” Ghost replied as he took a cautious step forward.

“Ye can't let it happen again.” Soap spoke softly, still rubbing his jaw.

“I shouldn't have hit you you-”

Soap held up his hand and shook his head. “I'm not mad at ye for takin' a swing at mae, Si. I'm not even mad ye took off on yer own on the mission. But ye can't take that risk again, ye hear? Ye can't come rushin' in like a knight in shining armour for me.”

Ghost managed a half-hearted shrug.

“Its why I offered tae switch units. I dinnae want tae compromise ye.”

Ghosts eyes flashed with a mix of emotions, a spike of rage igniting within him once more.

“Absolutely not.” He commanded. “The only thing worse than losing my head on that mission, is not having you on my team. Not having you at my side.”

This was as close to an 'I love you' that Soap had heard since they started dating and it made his heart skip a beat.

“Ye big fuckin' softy.” Soap smirked, biting his lower lip. “I like havin' ye by mae side too, Si. Now get yer arse going or Price'll have yer head.”

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Simon stared out the bedroom window of his quarters, lost in thought as the stars sparkled in the night sky. An arm had slipped around his waist from behind and pulled him close.

Simon lay there quietly, feeling Johnny's rhythmic breathing against his back. Being held like this was unfamiliar, even after several nights of it. Simon had a deep urge to pull away. This was somehow scarier; foreign. It was so vastly different from just fucking someone and leaving. It was more intimate than he had expected, and he didn't exactly know how to process that.

John wasn't oblivious to what was going on in Simon's head. The man was more of an open book than he let on, especially without the mask and even more-so as they shared this tiny, cramped bed.

John began to slowly trace irregular patterns over Simon's stomach, feeling the muscles tense and convulse in response.

“What on yer mind, Si?” John asked softly. After everything that had happened, he knew Simon was wrestling with himself more than usual.

Simon let out a sigh and debated ignoring John's question, wanting to avoid another potential confrontation.

He rolled onto his back, and could see John from the corner of his eye. The man nestled between Simon's arm and chest, continuing his feather-like touch over Simon's stomach.

“I'm not good at any of this.”

John scowled. “What do ye mean, Si?”

Simon sucked in a long breath and exhaled slowly. He tried to find the right words. “Opening up and letting people in. Someone who nearly got you killed because I didn't stop to think... or trust in you. You deserve someone who isn't such a fuck up.”

'This conversation again.' John thought to himself.

John simply shook his head against Simon's chest. He slipped his calloused fingers under Simon's shirt to play at his treasure trail. A nice distraction tactic.

“We've both made mistakes, Si. We're both fuck ups in our own way, yeah?” John whispered softly. “Anne yer doing great, Si. We're literally cuddlin' on this shitty fuckin' bed in yer quarters.”

Simon's resolve wavered once more, and he relaxed ever-so-slightly. Somehow John had saw something worthwhile in him that even he couldn't see. Something no one else had ever seen in him either.

Simon had always been good for a hook-up had the opportunity presented itself, though since his 'death' those had tapered off significantly.

But Johnny didn't want a quick fuck. He wanted to stay. It baffled Simon to no end, and maybe that was why he struggled with this relationship.

“You're the only man I'd.... ever let in. The only one I would let touch me this way.” Simon whispered towards the ceiling.

John leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Simon's collarbone. “I know... and it means the world tae me, Si.” he replied, smiling into Simon's body.

“I'll... keep trying... to be better.” Simon stuttered feeling the warmth of Johns lips through his shirt.

“I just want the Si I fell for. I dinnae need you tae be anything ye ain't.” John reassured him.

Simon couldn't help but smile. He was still uncertain he could be the man he knew Johnny deserved, but he also couldn't deny the connection they had. He felt lesser without Johnny. He didn't want to lose this new feeling he had, even if it was causing a tsunami of emotions inside him.