#maybe the real legacy is the friends we made along the way so suck it Korn

[auseyre]

Legacy is one of the major themes of KinnPorsche, and the show is brimming with examples. Physical legacies like the rings and the house, and so many psychological ones. Legacies of hate and love, of regret and trauma, of abuse, of honesty and deceit. 

We never get to meet papa T(though we get a pretty clear picture of what he was like), so that leaves Korn as the primary arbiter of legacy in the show. In one way or another, he directs almost all of it. And hey, it’s an outsider that wears a tattoo that says ‘there’s no legacy as rich as honesty’ because that sure as hell isn’t a Theerapanyakul motto. There are two specific legacies that I want to mention though. 

“Tragically, your worst enemies will always come from your own household.”

I’ve gushed before over the three sets of brothers and how they’ve defied the legacy of sibling hatred and harm that came before them when it would have been easy to do the opposite. I will always stan sibling love and I adore all three sets of relationships. But the rewatch made me actually delve more into that legacy. 

The first time I watched, I just assumed that Korn and Gun had always been in competition, always hated each other, and that was the legacy that got passed on to their sons, but I don’t think that’s true at all. I think at one time, Gun looked up to and admired his big brother. I think it was them and Nampheung against papa T... or at least Gun thought it was. Until the events at the Kittisiwasds house. 

When everything goes down, Gun isn’t angry, he’s in disbelief, he’s devastated by Korn’s actions, something that I don’t think would be true with the relationship we see between them now. Now, he knows his brother is a cold-hearted bastard. Tellingly, when he finds out Nampheung is alive, he is shocked back to the Gun he was then, not the cold, angry man he is most of the series. 

Korn crafted a new legacy that day, one of broken siblings, competition, distrust, and hatred between the main family and the minor one. And I think he did it deliberately to cover his ass. Who would ever believe a word that came out of the Gun we see against benevolent dictator Korn? Everything Gun said would look like jealousy. As long as Korn kept poking at Gun and the minor family with a stick, he never had to worry about any of them developing a relationship with his sons.

He never had to worry about Gun stumbling onto any information he shouldn’t about Nampheung, Porsche, and Chay. He never had to worry about any of his secrets coming out. Even Kinn didn’t really understand why his uncle hated his family... he thought it was a matter of money and power envy. And Korn wasn’t wrong. It barely took anything for Porsche and Vegas to stumble onto part of the truth, just a little communication.

The kind of communication that Korn spent years sowing distrust to prevent. (Porsche is sorry, not sorry to keep fucking up your shit, Korn.)

That means if you were to encounter the pressures these king snakes exert, your heart would fail to pump blood—that's how strong this is," 

Korn is a king snake. He holds on tight to everything he loves, and everything he hates with the same fervor, constricting until they can’t breathe, until their hearts can’t beat. His sons have learned this lesson well, flailing in his coils their whole lives. Khun is trapped in the house, with lots of toys and some playmates to keep him occupied. Kinn is trapped under the weight of family love and responsibility, and Kim is trapped on a barely visible leash, No matter how much freedom it seems he has, it’s still an illusion. It’s no surprise that they do their best to reject that legacy from Korn. They actively strive to be different from their father in the way that they handle relationships. 

Khun

 Kinn, 

And Kim all let go. 

We know it’s not easy. They all try to be stoic about it, Khun playing it off like he's not hurt, not missing his baby brother and leaving first, Kinn and his stiff upper lip, waiting until Porsche is gone before kicking at the handcuffs, the symbol of them tied together and Kim who tries to stifle all emotion, holding it in until he can’t any longer. We see the heartbreak and regret but they still let go. They will wish and want and ask, but they won’t be their father, won’t tie someone in ways they can’t escape, won’t hold them with lies and manipulation, won’t smother the thing they love until there’s barely any life left. 

There’s a line that Korn uses from the utterly fantastic, amazing fic Wings of a Butterfly https://archiveofourown.org/works/39799374

  .... “you can’t sharpen a blade with silk” and I think about it often okay, because the great irony of Korn’s legacy is that in some ways, Kinn modeled himself after the man Korn pretends to be, not the man he actually is. Yes, he’s more impulsive and irreverent — gifts from his mother as he’s told us, but the kindness, the gentleness, the guy that cares about his people, like Pete said, that’s all from the mask Korn wears. 

Korn spent a lot of years moving pieces on the chessboard, only for everybody else to wind up playing another game entirely. His sons won’t be like him, and his nephews won’t be like the man helped create (Porsche, Porchay, and Pete are sorry, not sorry to fuck up your shit, Korn). He may get to write history, but he won’t get to write the future. 

[oingo233]

Rapture is a Boy (8)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior?  And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader(neutral)

Warning: FLUFF, so much fluff you could drown in it, self-doubt (brief) 

Authors Note: This is the last part, which is crazy to me, I truly hope yall love it.  This series is dear to my heart because it has allowed me to meet and talk to you and so many other amazing people!  You all mean so much to me, and Remus is my lil baby too. I can’t even express how much I appreciate and love you all <3

Word Count: 5k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven

                                                    Part Eight

                                      ****A Stag, a Rat and a Dog***

Remus POV

“That was-” Peter couldn’t even finish his sentence, he just laughed, he laughed so loud it was hard not to join in with him.  James pat his back and nodded, wiping some of the blue glitter off on his shirt.

“Right, mate.” he agreed.  Sirius was bouncing in his spot, none of our smiles breaking or dimming. “Another notch under the belt of our legacy of awesome,” he all but sang, all of our cheeks still flushed from this morning. He hit Sirius’s arm and they began to race up the stairs, Peter and I followed, jogging after them.  “Lily loved it too!” he added, smiling even bigger at just the thought of her, he was beating Sirius.  

We all stopped running and Sirius was scowling, he lost, we all stood at the portrait when Sirius turned to me.  “Worked well on (Y/N) too,” he stated, smirking at me and making a sexual motion with his hips, James laughed and I pushed him. “Ew, your palms are sweaty.”

“We’ll excuse me, ABBA sweats no doubt after giving the performance of a life time.” I say while James says the word and the painting opens for us. “Besides, it has worked for now.  But they are still oblivious to the truth.  I might lose them all over again, once they know.”

The mood seemed to darken at this realization.  Not everyone is as understanding about my condition as the boys. That’s the real reason I couldn’t stop sweating, and if the boys looked close enough they’d see I couldn’t stop shaking ever so slightly too.  I just got (Y/N) back, I’m not sure how well I’d be able to cope with losing them a second, and final time.  My heart broke just at the thought, and at the very realization that I might have to prepare myself for such an outcome.

“Mate, (Y/N) is one of the people in this world that loves you most.  Besides us of course,” James smiled softly, trying to lighten the mood whenever he could, “I doubt, that anything could make them think differently of you.  You’re not just your condition.  You’re Remus feckin Lupin!” The other boys cheered in agreement as we stepped into our dorms, Peter even went as far as rubbing my shoulders to build up my confidence, he saw a trainer do it to a wrestler on muggle TV once.

“And we’ve got a romantic feckin plan!” Peter cheers, still excited about what is yet to happen. I swallow thickly once more, this day could be one of the best in a while, or the absolute worst.  I guess we’ll know tonight.  

“Yes, and are you guys sure you are okay with this?” I ask, for the fifth time.  James rolls his eyes, and Sirius bangs his head on the dorm room wall.  

“Yes, Moony.  Yes. Yes. Yes.  We are okay with this for the millionth time.  (Y/N) is our friend too, and all we want is to see the lot of ya happy again, so will ya shut up about it.  We already agreed, mate,” Sirius says, looking up just barely lifting his head from the wall.

“And we don’t like lying to (Y/N) either,” James says, Peter nods with each word falling from their lips, as he tugs on pants and grabs a new, not bedazzled, robe.

We were still talking and going over plans for tonight when we left for first period.  The common room was quite expect for our meshed whispers and loud footfalls, it wasn’t until the painting door swung open that we heard another sound.  An all too familiar sound.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat before us.  Her hands folded in at her chest and her pointed eyes trained on us, unblinking.  We all swallowed thickly, our fear and respect for her almost overwhelmed our courage and friendliness towards her.  Almost.

“Did ya enjoy the concert, Minnie?  I was singing just for you.” Sirius said, smiling and trying not to laugh as her expression remained unmoving.  James joined in and I nearly rolled my eyes, but a smile found it’s way onto my lips nonetheless.

“Yeah, we saw ya a-tap-tap-tappy your toes!” He says, doing a little dance.  I was amazed by her ability to not even crack a smile at our enthusiasm, but then again, this was nothing new to her.  “ABBA gets to the best of us doesn’t it?”  As if on cue, Sirius was speaking again. I fought my smile and faked a sullen expression, fingers crossed behind my back, this was the part where one of us tried to weasel our way out of trouble.

“Exactly, our hearts were in it Professor, truly we had good reason and we weren’t hurting anyone.  Shame.  Just a shame Dumbledore gave us detention, any more severe punishment just wouldn’t make any sense.”  She raised a brow and in a last attempt I put in a word of my own.

“But you’re always so sensible Ms. McGonagall. I’m sure your punishment for us will be well-deserved.  Perhaps our outfits were too flashy?” Peter chuckles beside me, and shows her the inside of his robe.

“But this one isn’t at all. Ya see?” He shows her adamantly until she raises a hand and we are drowning in silence, she made us sweat in our palms and neck before speaking.

“Yes.  It appears your shenanigans are over.  But Lucy is still in the hospital wing scrubbing at her skin, the smell is pungent and unmoving.  It seems, Sirius,” She turns to face him, his adam apple bobs, “You did hurt someone.  The real shame is that you don’t seem bothered by that fact.  Follow me, boys.” She said, turning on us, her robes nearly swinging up and hitting our shins.  We follow wordlessly and with our heads down, her words bothered us a little, what really stung was the disappointment on her face and in her frown. (Though Sirius swears he heard her singing along).

She went to Peter’s class first, he went to follow her inside but she raised a hand and said “Oh, you won’t be going to class this morning, Mr.Pettigrew.” She excused Peter herself, whispering into the teachers ear.  My heart sank at the realization that I would not be seeing (Y/N) again this morning, James eyes me, my mood obviously changed.  I couldn’t even spend any time with them before tonight, our lunch would serve as detention as well. I might never get to see them again after tonight, couldn’t even enjoy this little time I have before the truth is out.  I won’t be able to be at peace until tonight or maybe even after, because who will love a monster?

For the rest of the morning we were locked in McGonagall’s empty classroom, writing out letters of apology to be given to Lucy in person later that day.  And attempting to come up with a charm or some potion that would reverse the long lasting affect of the Stink Bombs that we have created.  Wouldn’t be a marauders prank unless everything was well crafted, would it?  But now, our little spell seems to be our downfall.  Luckily, we found the right reversion potion, and it was taken to Madame Pom. immediately.  By the time we were allowed to leave, the bell for second period had just rang.

I sat through my classes with sweaty hands, and bouncing legs.  I agonized in the silence of detention about all that could go wrong, several times I re-debated whether I should really tell (Y/N) the truth, but it was clear that I needed too.  I have lied for too long, and it has cost me too much.  The truth will set me free...or at least I hope it will.  I sat through my very last classes feeling both sick, and determined.  Before we knew it, it was dinner time and James, Sirius, Peter and I snuck out of the castle for our final act of salvation.  Our last attempt to make things right.

Your POV

The ground was rocky and uneven below my feet, between the clumps of dirt and hidden rocks this trip to Hagrids hut felt more like a mountain climbing experience than anything else.  But my breathing was not ragged and exaggerated because of the walk, no, it was because ever since this morning my heart has been beating out of control.  I’ve been breathless and filled with both anxiety and warmth since Remus kissed my cheek and handed me this note.

Tonight will mark either the end or the fresh start of our relationship, of our friendship...of our love.  

My head is spinning as I stumble over a pumpkin root. What has he been hiding from me?  Is it something bad, or big, or maybe something he is just blowing way out of proportion?  What if the truth pulls us apart even more than the lies?

I shake my head in an attempt to free myself of this anxiety that swells in my stomach like a churning sea.  Whatever it is, I will face it with patience and love, but also self-respect.  I repeat this to myself until before I know it, I am at Hagrids hut.  The walls of his house seemed to mountain over me, it smelled strongly of firewhiskey, burning firewood,rich dirt and sweet pumpkins.  The smell did wonders in calming my mind, but I rather large frown makes its way onto my face as I look around.  There was absolutely no one in sight.

I cuss under my breath.  Maybe this is the wrong place.  Maybe Remus is late?  I chew at my bottom lip and take a few large steps around the hut, my eyes keep going back to analyze the trees of the forest.  The shadows of the forbidden forest seemed to reach for me.  It called for me.  As if it was a whirlpool sucking me in I stepped towards it, staring into the layers of dark, large trees.  

I held my breath as a bush by the very edge of the forest shook, rustling leaves and snapping twigs filled the brisk night air.  I shivered, whether it was from the cold or the sudden fear I was not sure, but I did not have time to debate my feelings because suddenly, a canopy of dark green vines, hanging from the trees shifted.  

Large, cream horns parted the vines and drooping tree leaves, a particular branch got stuck on the intricate swirling of the horns and snapped completely as the creature stepped further from the shadows, revealing itself to me. 

A beautiful Stag stood proud, it’s thick coat shone under the moonlight, it’s chest puffed out at me with pride.  The horns only added to it’s graceful height, but it’s eyes are what truly took my breath away.  Those round, warm eyes they were so human.  So familiar.  Before I could debate it any further, the Stag stamped it’s hoof in the dirt softly, it snorted and white air swirled around it’s soft face.  Only then did I notice the beautiful yellow rose, plucked from a bush and resting at it’s front legs.

I bring a shaky hand to my mouth, barely able to comprehended the wave of emotions that nearly knock me to my feet. This was of Remus’s doing.  But...how?  The Stag inclines it’s head curiously at me to the right, it’s large ears flicking with some sort of impatience, or unrest.  Only then did I fully seem to understand the familiarity of this creature.  

“James?” I gasp.  The Stag seems to stand even taller at me, and...smiles.  With my mouth still hanging wide open I let out a boisterous laugh.  “James!” I almost yell, the Stag snorts again and leans it’s head down, using his nose to push the rose towards me.  The movement doesn’t help me get over my shock, but it stirs me into action.  I begin to cautiously walk forwards, and as I do the Stag er, James, picks up the rose between it’s teeth, when I am close enough he softly nuzzles it into my hand.  I grip it tightly, it has already been de-thorned.

Carefully, with my free hand, I reach it out just a few inches in front of me and James places his Stag head onto my palm.  I pet him softly, he stares up at me and it was as if I was staring at James himself.

“You clever bastard!” I exclaim, I knew how hard becoming Animigus is, but why would he do such a thing?  I was broken out of my trance when the Stag (James) begins to walk, slowly at first, he looks back at me and inclines his head first and it was as if I could just hear him saying, in his cheeky manner ‘Ladies first, of course,”

I swallow thickly and fight another bout of paralyzing shock, and instead smile, following James through the forest.  His hoofs sinking softly into the ground, the sound was methodic and helped with the strange over pour of emotions I’m feeling.

What happened next, is actually quite embarrassing.  It started with a little scamper by my feet.  Considering how far we’ve walked into the forest I was more than a bit concerned for my safety, but the large, strong Stag beside me cast most of my fears to the side.  Then, through a break of moonlight through the trees I saw it.  A large, fat rat!

I screamed so loud, dark ravens flew from their slumbers in the trees.  James beside me stomped his feet, and checked the perimeter with analyzing eyes, searching for the danger.  But they only found the rat.  I never thought a Stag could give such an amused, disappointed expression, yet here I stand.  Clinging to a deers ass for dear life, and he is looking back at me with said expression. My cheeks flush and I let go of his furry back, then the Rat very slowly inches towards me.  

It’s sharp nose lifting and dancing from side to side, it’s soft brown eyes sparkling up at me.  I’d say it even looked a little cute, friendly even.  But what unusual behavior, and what unusual eyes.  It’s tail glowing under the white light like a plump, pink worm...

“Wormtail!” I realize, laughter bubbling from my chest. The Rat lets out a gleeful squeak and James besides me snorts once again, seeming to laugh.  The Rat scurried off into the shadows, and I can’t help but berate myself.  Did I hurt his feelings?

But then he comes bounding back into sight, he stands on his back legs and his little Rat face seemed to glow with excitement as his pink hands unveiled a small little white wildflower.  The same kind Remus would pick for me on walks we took together. My smile only grows bigger as I do a sweet curtsey and pick up the flower mid-bow, lifting it up to my nose as I stand straight again.  

“My apologies, you know I don’t like rats.  But I suppose I’ll have to make an exception for you.” I smile down at him, and he reveals two yellow buck teeth, smiling up at me with as much of a smile any rat can muster.  I fail to hold in my laughter but extend my arm to him, he climbs up it and perches himself on my shoulder.  I hold the two flowers in one hand, and rest my other on James soft shoulder, so I can be led through the dark forest, I knew by know, they were leading me to Remus.

Peter climbs down my other arm and onto James back, then up his head.  I laugh as Peter holds on for deer(hehe I’m funny) life as James jokingly waves his head back and forth, Peter almost falls off but I help him back.  We all seem to laugh in our own ways, when suddenly a loud bark cuts through the sound of laughter and owls and even the rustling of the woods around us.  It was loud and impatient and yet humorous, it reminded me of someone I know well.  I smirk, raising a brow I turn to the equally amused Stag and Rat, James and Peter.

“Wormtail.  Prongs,” I say, motioning to the Stag who only inclines his head again, “And Padfoot.  Let me guess... Sirius is also some animal wandering these woods, finding us by chance?  A wolf, perhaps?  A dog?” They don’t say a thing, they only begin to walk again.  Turning us towards the sound of the echoing bark.

I was on the ground before I knew what was happening.  We’ve walked just a few more minutes and then a cloud of black overcame my sense and tackled me to the floor.  Black, Sirius Black, was a dog and on top of me.  He was barking right by my ear and cuddling me, it wasn’t until two little Rat hands attempted to push his leg that he got off.  

I was laughing uncontrollably, this was all too much.  Too crazy.  I knew they were geniuses, but this... becoming Animagus and though the reason was unclear I could feel it, something to do with Remus.  With Moony.  The nickname had a new meaning to me, and I wasn’t sure what yet, but I was sure I was about to find out.  

Sirius was racing around me in circles as I stood up.  His black tail wagging wildly, and his fur rustled and tossed under the wind.  I wanted to coo and awe, though his eyes were human and mischievous, the rest of him was adorable and strong.  A proud, handsome looking dog.  It was clear, by his behavior, that he was just as excited to reveal this big secret, as I was to know the truth.

“Sirius!  You dog,” I joke, a bad one on my part but he still barked with laughter and I shook my head, taking in the three of them.  This was, Merlin, I didn’t even know what this was other than beyond surprising and impressive.  Shocking.

Suddenly, Sirius makes one last dart behind me, he sends me in a spin and by the time I can control my footing he is back in front of me.  He is sitting on his back legs, front paws up in the air and bent in a cute trick, his ears flopped forward.  Just above his paws, drooping from the jaws of his mouth is a single daffodil.  Daffodils, like the one written about in this favorite poem of mine that Remus would read me on bad days, I Wandered Lonely as A Cloud by William Wordsworth.

I sigh, tilting my head to the left, a soft smile on my lips.  Everything about this was amazing and sweet.  It was amazing that the boys had this whole other life I never knew about, which I’m sure there will be a reasonable explanation for my ignorance because ouch.  But sweet, because this was obviously planned my Remus, but the boys were taking their own time to make it happen.  I bend down and pat Sirius’s head, the only time he lets me touch his hair, I think, almost laughing.  His tail wags as I pluck the flower from his mouth and he lets it fall easily into my hand.

I gather it with my other flowers, now forming a little bouquet and bring the whole lot of them up to my face and inhale. I close my eyes as I smell the sweet and powerful aromas, memories with Remus filled my head, and with it, a warmth filled my chest.  

“I hope this hasn’t been all too much for you.  I thought some truths would be better seen than told,” Remus says, walking up behind me.  I spin around, I didn’t even notice the sound of crunching leaves behind me. But I couldn’t find it in me to speak, the moonlight dancing across Remus’s face, highlighting his eyes, and the soft curves of his lips with the ragged lines of his scars, I was astounded by the boy before me.  Once again entranced.  All the anxiety, all the fear has left me, as I stared at him clad in fancy pants and a button up to match.  

He stops walking, unsure of where he stands with me.  I step towards him, finding some clearing in the haze I begin to speak.

“It’s wonderful.  They’re wonderful,” I say, turning with a thankful smile to the stag, the rat and the dog. They each in turn, show their teeth at me in an attempt of a smile.  I laugh and beside me, Remus does too.  With a nod of his head, they turn their backs on us and leave.  I no longer needed guidance or safety.  Remus stood before me and I felt something that has been missing for the past couple of days.  And even though I was in the middle of the dangerous, forbidden forest, I knew that I was also home.  

“I love the flowers. I must say, this night has already taken the most unexpected turn it could, but the nicknames definitely make more sense,” I attempt a bad joke, a habit of mine in a nerve wracking situation but Remus only seems to grimace slightly, before turning it into a smile, though it was a rather sad one.

“Well, you seem to be taking this well.  Have you figured out mine yet?” He asked, his sad tone surprising me. We were so close his voice dropped low just out of habit it seemed, and because the short distance between us put us in a trance.  I missed him.  I missed him so much my body now seemed to come back from the dead and reach for him, I was alive again with dancing butterflies and buzzing questions.  I glanced down to his lips, before taking a step back. 

“No.  But I can guess.  It makes sense, once every month you seem to leave me.  You change into someone who is distant, someone who doesn't seem to love me,” He steps forwards, looking pained by this realization, but as I speak it becomes clearer to me, but I can’t yet reach the conclusion.

“I will never become a person who doesn’t love you.  I will change and grow but you will be the one thing that remains.  You don’t have to guess anymore, but I want you to know that my love for you will always remain, even if after tonight, we do not,” he speaks with such reverence, like our love was something scared to him and deep down, I knew I felt the same way.  It is my first love, and if I can help it, than he will be my only lover until the day I die.  All I can do is nod as he steps forwards again, I can see a bead of sweat roll down the apple of his cheek, he was about to tell me.  I can feel the shaking of his hands as he places them in mine.

Suddenly, his unbreaking stare leaves me, and in place, find the bright moon.  Twinkling in the sky and illuminating us in its wake.  I understood in that moment, Moony.  A boy mapped with scars.  Moony.  A boy plagued by nightmares, and insecurities.  Moony.  A tough, but oh so scared boy who seemed to hate the very night itself.  Moony.  The boy who changes during the month, and is gone completely on the full moon.  Moony.  Moony, the Werewolf.

I pull on his hands and gather him into my embrace, pulling back only to kiss him sweetly.  The world becomes ours as our lips dance with one another to a song we’ve heard before.  It is the song of him making love to me.  It is the song of the poems he reads me and the flowers he picks.  It is the song of the moons very envy as she watches us together.  The song of lovers.  It moves us.  It moves my hands up his neck and through his hair.  It moves his lips across my cheek and jaw and then down my neck.  It moves the wind, and the trees around us.  It pulls the moans from our mouths and then the confessions.

“My beautiful love,” Remus kisses the words into my skin, up to my lips.  “My only love,” he mumbles into my lips, kissing me softly but his hands are bruising at my hips.  As if I would leave him if he did not hold me close enough and for forever.

“I love you, Remus ‘Moony’ Lupin.  I love all of you and all that you ever will be and all that you have been.” He pulls back from me, his eyes glazed with tears and a softness that makes my heart sing.  He nods, and than he laughs.  A tear falls from his eyes as his head leans back and he laughs, the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.  It was as if all his anxiety, and self-hatred has left him and in their place my words have nestled in.  I love him.  I love him.  I love him.

“I’m a werewolf ya know?” he says, still laughing, he knew I made the connection.  At this point it was pre-caution, I roll my eyes and kiss him again.  The world is forgotten as we kiss, as we rejoin as one and as lovers.  I pull back and softly wipe away his tears.

“I know,” I whisper into his lips, he smiles, giving me a soft kiss.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Remus?” I ask, pulling away from him.  He frowns now, his cheeks red with blush, and lips to match.

“I thought I’d lose you forever.  That you’d think I was some monster, or- or beast.  You always looked at me like I was the world, and I was terrified one day you’d see the real me, and just- well, stop loving me altogether.” While he speaks his eyes still glitter with the promise of tears, and my heart sinks at his words.

“I think I understand your anxiety about it.  I can’t imagine how hard it must be.  But I would never stop loving you for such a thing, merlin, I don’t think anything could stop me from loving you.  I never want you to feel the need to hide from me again, okay?” Remus nods into my hands, I still haven't moved them since I wiped away his tears, it seemed like more keeps falling each time.  

“The boys became Animigmus to help with my full moons.  It can get pretty bad… but ever since they have come along things really got better, really they did.” he adds when seeing my sad facial expression.  My heart felt broken all over again at just the thought of Remus being in pain, alone and suffering.  I swore in that moment, I’d do anything in this world to help make things better for him.  I nod my head.  He continues.

“And Lucy, her older sister is a werewolf.  She figured out that I was one pretty quickly, she said I could speak to her about it all, and that she could help somehow.  It was nothing more, she just let me complain and even write some letter to her sister.  I never even thought of Lucy like the way I think of you.  She was always just a friend, but that remains no more.  To hell with her,” he says.  He can’t stop smiling, a real, golden smile.  There was nothing holding him back, I could just tell he felt so much lighter.  I took his hand and wordlessly led him to sit on the grass with me.  We laid shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the stars together.  

He told me in depth about how he was bitten as a child, about how it changed his life.  Then when the boys told him they were becoming Animgus for him and all the little moments and adventures they’ve had since.  He didn’t sugar coat a thing, he didn’t lie.  He was bearing his soul before me for the first time, without any thin veil holding us back and I’ve never felt closer to him.  It was well past curfew by the time I felt satisfied with everything he’s told me, I felt both heavy with this knowledge and yet free.  I felt included and like I truly knew Remus, and I still did love him.  More than ever, I love him.

We laid in silence for some time, my head has moved to lay on his chest and I can hear the steady, warm beating of his heart.

“Can you hear it?” he asks, out of the blue.  I strain my ears to listen to the forest around us, I lift my head slightly and he laughs.  “No. My heart, can you hear it?” I lean back into him and let out a little laugh myself.

“Oh.  Yes,” I smile, “I can hear it.”

“Good.  It beats for you.”mhe says, I look up at him only to find that he has already been looking at me.  His eyes soft, and smile warm, his heart steady under the palm of my hand and loud within the stillness of the night.  It beats for you.  His words echoed in my head and I couldn’t help myself, I lean forward and press my lips against him.  I could kiss him forever.  I could be with him here like this forever, alone and in love, honest and unafraid. 

 I understood a lot of things that night, more than just about who Remus was and the secrets he has been hiding.  More than the truths that he bared and the love that we had. I understood how after all this time of separation and uncertainty.  After exhausting ourselves in a sea of sorrow and questions, we have finally found our peace.  I have found my happiness.  And I realized something rather important.  Rapture is a boy.  Rapture is love.

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget​   @beyondprincess​   @1975weasley​   @nicodoesntexist  @goto-hi-this-is-my-brain  @yoyoitsbella​  @ftwert   @sognatrice-as-a-hobby​  @dontjudgemyobsessionpls​​  @blackpinkdolan​

@holdenviolet   @katie-lupin05   @acoustic-archie @trishizzl   @accio-willtolive-lmao  @ilistentotayswifttocope  @kopheliablack​​

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Under My Skin (Ethan x MC)

Warning: 18+, NSFW

Summary: Set in the middle of chapter 6, Ethan and Naomi have it out over the current state of the diagnostics team.

Tags: @colourmeshy @virtualrain202 @fanmantrashcan @writinghereandthere @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune ~v~

Naomi stares at the textbook in front of her, eyes tired and blurry. She checks the time on her cell phone and 3:22 AM stares back in bold, white letters. Craning her head slightly, she spots Ethan standing at his kitchen island, looking at something on his laptop. 

She never thought she’d be back in his apartment, but he invited the entire diagnostics team over so they could get some research done on Leland Bloom’s case. Ethan wants it to be solved as quickly as possible, and he wants to be rid of the tech billionaire, so after work they all congregated in his apartment, eating Chinese food, drinking wine, passing around textbooks and throwing out theories. 

They’ve been at it for almost 6 hours now. 

The energy in the room is off. Ethan’s been pissed ever since the board told him they’d need to be for-profit and start accepting wealthy clients and potential donors, and everyone feels it. June, Baz, and Naomi have been walking on eggshells around him, but aside from occasional snark from Naomi, they’ve been extremely curt.

Jenner likes her though. The golden retriever took a shine to her the moment she crossed the threshold to Ethan’s condo, sniffing at her feet and attaching himself to her hip. He’s now lounging with her, head in her lap and she pours over this book, and she’s glad. The friendly dog provides an excellent distraction and Naomi is thankful, because his owner currently sucks.

Naomi has dealt with a lot of Ethan’s moods before: upset, defeated, angry, happy, the works. But she’s never had his ire directed at her before. They’re in this mess because of her, and it’s a tricky space to occupy. It’s not fun.

“As much as I love reading, if I look at another word, I think my brain might melt,” June says, breaking the tense silence. She stifles a yawn.

“I’ve tapped out for the night as well,” Baz adds. “I’ve looked up every possible kidney and bladder disease and disorder known to mankind. I’m on sensory overload. I think it’s time I go home.”

Ethan looks up from his laptop. He knows his team is probably exhausted. He can’t believe they’ve actually stayed over this long. “Well, thank you for staying. Go home, get some rest, I’ll see you at the hospital.”

June and Baz gather their belongings and all of the study material they brought along with them, returning Ethan’s living room to its original tidy state. Muttering goodbyes, the two of them exit the apartment. 

And then there were two. Naomi ignores the tension, ignoring the fact that they haven’t been alone together in over a week. Instead, she buries her face in her book, trying to focus on the words.

Ethan doesn’t bother sparing Naomi another glance before asking, “You didn’t want to leave with them?”

“Why, are you about to go to bed?”

“No.”

“Then, no.” She’s not going to stop now, and give him the satisfaction of thinking she’s given up for the night. Her stubbornness won’t allow it. “I don’t want to disrupt the process. I want this guy diagnosed and treated as badly as you do.”

Ethan scoffs. “I doubt it.”

Naomi has been giving as good as she gets when it comes to the passive aggressive snark, but it’s just exhausting at this point. She refuses to be his emotional punching bag any longer. She whips around in her seat. “God, is being a petulant little crybaby a second full-time job for you?”

That manages to get Ethan’s full attention. He levels a cool glare at the young resident, eyebrow raised in challenge. “You’ve gotten real comfortable calling me out of my name recently. Care to repeat that, Valentine?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Ramsey. You’re being a petulant little crybaby. You’ve been trying to pick a fight with me for the past 2 weeks. Look, I apologized, multiple times, for going behind your back or over your head, but I will not apologize for doing what I believe is right, not just for the team, but the hospital.”

“And you’re an insubordinate know-it-all!” Ethan shoots back. “You’re the type to touch the hot stove despite being repeatedly told not to because you think you’re a special snowflake who’s above getting burned. You lack foresight and analytical thought and self-preservation.”

Naomi recoils, having not expected Ethan to snap at her like that. “Excuse me?”

Jenner recognizes the change in tone between both adults. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, he moves from his spot on the couch and trots out of the living room, disappearing into the hallway.

“You thought this was going to be easy, that patients would just come flocking to us, but look at us, and everything would be perfect. We’re part of some social media...something or another’s video diary, we’re competing with a subpar hospital for patients despite being better than them, wasting time and resources because he wants to treat this like a reality show contest, and who knows what’s next, because you’ve opened Pandora’s box. We’re whoring ourselves out to the highest bidder, and the integrity and core foundation of this team has been compromised. So please spare me the martyr act, Naomi, and while you’re at it, please remember that I’m still your boss the next time you want to spout off at the mouth.”

Naomi’s hands are shaking, and she can practically feel the anger boiling in her blood. The nerve of this man. She stands up, ignoring the heavy book that fall out of her lap and onto the floor as she does so. She charges over to him, and sizes him up. Ethan’s almost a foot taller than her, but Naomi doesn’t care about the height disparity. She tilts her head back so she can look him in the eye.

“I’m not a martyr, but you’re a self righteous hypocrite. You’ve been pouting and waxing poetic about Naveen’s mission when you were the first one to mess with his legacy.”

Ethan’s nostrils flare at the accusation. “Excuse me?”

“Last year, you got into bed with Declan Nash and big pharma, compromising your own shaky moral code in order to save the life of one person. I’m trying to keep the team around in order to save a lot more people than just Naveen!”

“That was different!” Ethan argues. It doesn’t even feel right coming out of his mouth, but they’re far too deep in the argument for him to do anything besides dig his toes in.

“The only difference is you were the one in control then. But because it is my idea, you’re rejecting it. You’re being completely unreasonable here, Ethan. We’re standing in the middle of a sinking ship. Edenbrook is in trouble. My friends and I didn’t get our new salaries upon becoming residents, there’s talk of them shutting down the free clinic, and they’ll be coming after our team next. Who knows, maybe they’ll decide that mental health isn’t important and the entire psychiatric department should go. And then the nurses. And then they’ll start ordering less and less supplies, just to stay above water. And maybe you don’t care, because you’re Ethan Ramsey, you’re so wealthy that you only get a one dollar salary from the hospital, you’re established, your livelihood isn’t on the line, and I’m sure any hospital in the world would kill to employ you, but the rest of us? The little guys? We don’t have that option, so again, if you’re looking for me to kiss your ass and grovel because I made an executive decision, you’re going to be looking for a mighty long time.”

Ethan studies her, his gaze coolly fixated on her as she rants because he’s waiting for the second she stops talking, so he can jump back into his own argument. He realizes that it’s not an effective way to debate, and he falters slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Naomi goads, her voice taking on a singsong tone. She’s embroiled in the fight now. “Cat got your tongue?”

In his 37 years of living, Ethan can confidently say Naomi Valentine is the most infuriating woman he’s ever met. A stubborn, impulsive, hot-head with a smart mouth. 

And fuck, he’s made a mistake.

Her mouth. Now his gaze is fixated on it, her full lips that she’s repeatedly bitten down on during this argument, the tackiness of her lip gloss, the way her tongue darts in and out.

Their argument is now the furthest thing from his mind, and he’s actually annoyed by it. What is it about this…woman that completely bewitches him? He wants to argue, not be transfixed on how pretty she is. She doesn’t even have to do anything and he’s under her spell again. 

A sharp jab in the middle of his chest pulls Ethan back to reality. He looks down and realizes that Naomi poked him in the chest, out of anger or to get his attention, he’s not sure.

“Hey!” The fact that he’s ignoring her only makes her more incensed. He started this fight, he doesn’t get the right to dissociate and shut down in the middle of it. “Have you listened to a word I just said?”

“No,” Ethan answers honestly. Naomi’s eyes darken at the response. He didn’t say that to piss her off further, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight.

He can tell she’s going to launch into another tirade, one that’s completely separate from their original issue, because that’s just how things are between them; they spiral before either of them knows what’s happening.

Before she can even fix her mouth to call him another name, his hand cups her jaw, tilting her head back, and he slants his mouth over hers, kissing her fiercely.

She gasps. This is the first time he’s ever caught her off guard and initiated a kiss. She’s usually the one to be in control.

All too quickly, Ethan pulls back, locking eyes with the young woman in front of him. She’s dazed, chest heaving and eyes glazed over.

“Did you do that to get me to stop talking?”

“No, I kissed you because I wanted to. But the fact that it got you to stop running your mouth is a personal bonus.”

Naomi huffs, but doesn’t say anything else. God, he could be such an asshole at times.

“I want to do it again,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His blue eyes pierce into her own, and it suddenly becomes hard to focus on anything other than him. “Can I?”

She doesn’t know why it’s so sexy, him asking for permission, but she feels the butterflies in her stomach rumble at the question. She’s barely able to nod her head before Ethan launches himself at her, sending her flying back into the kitchen counter.

It’s so different from any other kisses they’ve shared. This one she can feel all the way down in her toes. His tongue darts out, gliding against her bottom lip and demanding access to her mouth, which she eagerly grants him.

Everything about him invades her senses: the feel of his calloused hands touching her jaw, the scratch of his beard against her face, the smell of his cologne (something by Gucci that she’s been yet to narrow down), his taste (she can still taste the wine on him, even though he drank it earlier), his sounds (the little groans that only she’s privy to, always gravelly and smooth, that make her knees buckle). It all culminates into this one man that is so all-consuming, it makes her lose her mind.

The kisses become shorter, more teasing, allowing Naomi the opportunity to actually breathe. He leaves kisses along her jaw and neck, making her whimper.

Ethan wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist and spins them, pushing her against the wall. She winces upon contact. “Warn a girl next time.”

“You want to know what’s been on my mind recently?” Ethan asks, nipping at Naomi’s earlobe.

“W-What?”

His hands find purchase underneath the grey Henley she’s wearing and he lifts it up. Her stomach clenches under his touch and it’s maddening just how responsive she is to him. “I haven’t been able to get the sight of you out of my mind since I came to pick you up from your apartment the other day.” With trembling fingers, Naomi helps him remove the shirt, and it’s tossed somewhere behind them.

She’s not wearing the grey bra he saw the other day, this one is a soft pink, and he groans at how it contrasts against her skin. There isn’t a color that doesn’t look good on her. “I stood there…” he only pauses to place opened mouthed kisses on her collarbone. “...like a floundering idiot…” this time he kisses slightly lower, earning a sharp inhale from Naomi. The noise does nothing to soothe the erection straining in his jeans. “...while you decided to tease me.”

“You’re the one who decided to stay,” Naomi shoots back with a shrug. “So I had to put on a little show.” He hums in agreement. His tongue darts out, flattening over her lace covered nipple. “Fuck, just take it off!”

“You still have no patience,” Ethan observes. He yanks at the material, until he hears a loud tear.

“That’s La Perla!”

Ethan blinks, struggling to find the significance in that statement. Was it supposed to mean something to him? “Okay?”

“It was expensive, you jerk!”

“I’ll buy you 10 more,” he replies with a shrug before resuming his previous activity, pulling one of her nipples between his lips, sucking lightly. Naomi’s breath comes out in quick bursts, and it’s becoming harder for her to stay grounded to reality. She reaches out, wanting to touch him, but he intercepts, catching her wrist. “Hands to yourself, Valentine.”

Ethan’s fingers make work of the button holding her jeans together, and he drags down the zipper. He yanks at her jeans with the same care he afforded her shirt and bra, tugging them down until they pool at her feet. Naomi does the rest of the work, hopping around until the pants are fully off.

“You and the thin scraps you call underwear, have been driving me insane all week,” Ethan confesses. “The other day when I came to pick you up, part of me was so mad at you because of your blatant defiance, but the other part of me wanted to push you onto that bed, and do very, very inappropriate things to you.”

The wetness that floods her panties is overwhelming. She clenches her thighs together in hopes of alleviating some of the tension, but it doesn’t help. Figuring out a new strategy, she wraps a leg around his waist, pulling him flush to her. She rolls her hips, grinding into him. The growl that escapes his lips only fuels her and strokes her ego. “You should’ve.”

Ethan kisses her again, reveling in the needy way Naomi claws at him. Her fingers are desperate, fingering into his t-shirt, twisting at the fabric. He’s unsure if she wants to take it off, or if she’s impatient enough to say ‘fuck it,’ and just rip it.

Whatever the case, he doesn’t let her continue. Grabbing both of her hands, he forces them on either side of her. “You really do have a problem with listening. No. Touching.”

The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down her spine, but whatever rebellious side of her that wants to challenge the command is squelched with one look into his eyes. She can tell he means business and now isn’t the time to challenge his authority.

With restraint she didn’t know she had, Naomi places her palms on the hall behind her, and she stays as still as she can.

“Good girl.” Ethan smirks and drops her hands. He untangles himself from her and steps back an inch to admire his work. “You followed directions for once.”

Whatever smart aleck reply that was about to fly from her mouth is stifled by Ethan pulling her soaked underwear down and slipping two digits past her folds. The noise she lets out is a mixture of a high pitched yelp and a strangled moan, something that threatens to choke her.

The pace he sets is random and uneven, never giving Naomi a chance to settle into a rhythm, and she wonders if this is his way of punishing her, keeping her keyed up and writhing on him for what feels like eternity, trapped in her own form of purgatory.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and bucks her hips wildly into his hand, trying to keep pace with him.

“Stop doing that,” Ethan demands, using his free hand to pull her lip out of her mouth. “I want to hear you, Rookie.”

Something about the use of her former nickname makes her moan, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ethan.

“You like the nickname,” he states. “It’s funny, you know.  You take every opportunity to defy me, argue with me, and push my buttons, yet you get off on me controlling you.”

She can’t focus. He’s too close, it feels too good, and her brain can’t function properly under these conditions. He presses forward, the heel of his palm pressing into her clit, earning a hiss.

“Admit it.”

At this point Naomi would admit to committing armed robbery if it meant he’d keep doing this. She nods frantically. “Yes, Doctor.” He groans at the use of his title, and he pumps harder, curling his fingers inside of her. 

Naomi stands on tiptoes and desperately claws at the wall behind her. “Fuck Ethan, please!”

“Please, what? What do you want?” His lips find her neck again, and he sucks on her pulse point, only making things more hazy. “Use your words, Rookie.”

She wants a lot of things. She wants to cry out, she wants to dig her nails into his back until she draws blood, she wants him to keep talking her through this, his gruff voice in her ear as she shatters around him.

Unfortunately, Naomi cannot form a coherent sentence to save her life. She just rolls her hips, shamelessly grinding herself into his hand. “I...I…” The pleasure mounts, building in the pit of her stomach, spreading out. She’s so close, she can almost taste it. 

“Do you want to cum for me?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, I want–” Ethan rewards her for her honesty and his thumb drags into her clit and he rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles. That’s all it takes, and she orgasms with a strangled cry and she’s thankful Ethan is right here because he holds her upright as her legs momentarily give out.

When Naomi regains the ability to stand on her own, Ethan lets go and slowly removes his fingers. Moving fast, Naomi grabs his hand, and without breaking eye contact with him, she slides the two digits into her mouth, licking them clean.

Ethan’s next breath is a shaky gasp that leaves his lung far too quickly. “Fuck, Rookie.”

“Why don’t we move this to the bedroom?” Naomi suggests, releasing his fingers with a loud pop.

Ethan shakes his head. “No.”

He registers the confusion on her face, but Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to respond. He grabs her by the waist and kisses her again, walking them towards the living room. He only breaks the kiss to pull his t-shirt over his head, and it joins the growing pile of discarded clothing scattered around. Naomi helps him speed the process along, getting rid of his belt and popping the button on his jeans. Her fingers hook into the belt loops of the pants and she pulls them down.

Before she can do anything else, Ethan stops her wandering hands. “Wait, wait.”

“Wait for what?”

Ethan knocks his forehead against hers and he sighs deeply. “Naomi, if you don’t want to do this, please stop me now.”

She thinks it’s cute that he’s giving her an out, but she doesn’t need it. Her fingers slip past the waistband of his soft cotton boxers, a warm dainty hand wrapping around him.

Ethan shudders as a warmth spreads through him at the touch of her hand, and he mentally curses himself. He pushes her hand away.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not cumming into your hand.” Ethan spins Naomi around and bends her over the arm of his couch. 

While it’s not the desk in his office, Naomi won’t complain. She feels one of his calloused hands trace the length of her spine and her eyes flutter shut in anticipation.

No patience left, Ethan tugs down his underwear, letting the material pool at his ankles. Without another word, he lines herself up at Naomi’s entrance and thrusts into her all at once. He groans at the sensation.

Naomi has never been more thankful for couch cushions, as they muffle the scream that escapes her.

“Fuck, Naomi.” He digs his fingers into her hips before pulling out and slamming back into her. He doesn’t give her any time to adjust, but she doesn’t mind. They both know patience isn’t her forte. “You’re...so...tight.” His words are punctuated by sharp thrusts that threaten to steal the air straight from her lungs.

He leans forward slacking against her, but Naomi welcomes the weight. His beard scrapes against her shoulder blade, his breath warm against her ear, his fingers which are no doubt going to leave a bruise, all of it makes her dizzy, and god, this isn’t going to last much longer.

His thrusts become sloppier, more frenzied as the pleasure mounts, his blood boiling in his veins like molten lava. The only thing he can hear is the sound of the skin slapping, and his ragged breaths.

“Are you close?” He asks. But Naomi can’t think, let alone actually speak words, even if something monosyllabic would suffice. Why does he keep trying to make her speak? Her head drops with a thud and she mumbles something incoherent.

“For someone who had so much shit to talk earlier, you’re mighty silent.” Letting go of her hip, Ethan tangles a hand in her hair, yanking it back so she can’t hide her face in the cushions anymore. His other hand reaches around and he rolls her clit with his middle finger. Still way too sensitive from her last orgasm, she thrusts back, clawing at the couch with her nails, but he holds her in place, refusing to let her move.

“Ethan, fuck, don’t stop!” The words fly out all at once, shaky, fast and jumbled, but it’s all Ethan needs. 

With a burst of energy he didn't know he possessed, he drives into her, plunging deeper. “Cum for me, Rookie.”

Naomi screams. Loudly, and she’s sure his neighbors might be very annoyed, but she doesn’t care. Everything goes white behind her eyes as he all but pushes her over the edge. She clenches around him and Ethan hisses as she’s holding him in a vice-like grip. A few quick thrusts later, and he’s joining her in ecstasy, spilling inside of her. The hand holding her hair tightens for a second, then relaxes.

She’s pretty sure she blacked out for some period of time because when Naomi is finally able to focus, they’re no longer obscenely bent over the arm of Ethan’s couch. They’re on the floor, in the cramped space between the couch and the coffee table. 

She’s hot and sticky and absolutely exhausted. She places her hand over her heart, willing it to stop beating so erratically. Stealing a glance, Naomi peers up and looks at Ethan. He looks as disheveled as she feels, his hair tousled, lips swollen, chest and neck flushed red.

Her voice is horse and completely shot to hell when she finally speaks, “If that’s how our fights are going to play out from now on, I’ll let you pick more fights with you. And I’m a Cancer, we’re stubborn people.”

“I think we can find a happy medium somewhere.”

Naomi rolls over, until she’s nestled into his side and her head is on his chest. She can feel his heart beating rhythmically under her cheek. “Are we still fighting?”

“No.”

“Are you still mad at me?” He doesn’t answer the question right away, and a sense of dread fills her.

“I was never really mad at you,” Ethan admits after a long bout of silence. “I’m just mad at the entire situation. I’m mad at the budget cuts, I’m mad at our country’s healthcare system, I’m annoyed with your inability to listen to me. I’m mad at Leland Bloom’s obscene wealth and the fact that he gets to dangle his money in our faces like we’re horses waiting for carrots.”

“You made the right call, Naomi,” he continues. “But it’s a call you shouldn’t have been forced to make in the first place. I’m sorry for making you carry the brunt of my misplaced anger.”

“Apology accepted. And since we’re apologizing, I’m sorry for calling you a petulant little crybaby.”

Ethan chuckles. “Do you apologize for calling me a goddamn diva, as well? Don’t forget ‘entitled jackass’ and ‘spoiled child’.”

“You co-signed ‘spoiled child’ so I am not apologizing for it.”

“Fair point,” Ethan concedes.

Blindly searching with an outstretched hand, Naomi finds her cell phone and checks the time. She has to be at work in 2 hours, though she’d much rather get into Ethan’s bed and go to sleep.

“That happy medium that you mentioned? I think I have it figured out.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Oh, yeah?”

“First and foremost, I promise to never go over your head again, if you agree to do a trial run on whatever ideas I may come up with. You can’t shoot me down immediately.”

“I’m...willing to agree to that.”

“And once this all settles down and the hospital isn’t on the verge of complete financial collapse, maybe we can convince the board to only take on one or two billable patients a quarter.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” 

“Yeah, I tend to have those every once in a while,” Naomi teases.

Ethan stares at Naomi as she laughs at her own poor joke. Everything about her is an anomaly to him. She blew into his life a little over a year ago and here he is, willing to adapt his entire ethical code for her. And here they are, entangled together as if he didn’t spend 2 months on a different continent in order to get her out of his head. What is it about her that he can’t shake?

He gently cups her jaw and kisses her as if she’s a precious gem, like he didn’t just try to devour her. “What are you doing to me?”

Naomi smirks, recalling that it’s the same question he asked her in Miami. “Hopefully something good.”

He kisses her again. “Better than good actually.”

Realization washes over her that once she leaves this apartment, things are going to go back to being the way they were. He’ll go back to pushing her away. “So does this mean you want to have another reset?”

The question throws him off, but he soon understands what she means. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” Ethan repeats. If there’s a happy medium to be found between his team and the board, maybe there’s one for him and Naomi.

She doesn’t allow herself to get swept up by his words, but instead she braces herself for the chance that he pulls the rug from under her feet. “Well, what does that mean?”

“It means you and I are going to take a shower together, go to work, and we deal with our obnoxious patient. And after work, you’re going to put on something fancy because I’m taking you out to dinner. How does that sound, Dr. Valentine?”

Naomi can’t stop an annoying grin from spreading across her face. “I think it sounds pretty damn good, Dr. Ramsey.”

[thetypedwriter]

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo Book Review

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo Book Review by Taylor Jenkins Reid 

It’s funny. Two book reviews ago I went on a lengthy diatribe about how giving people books is often annoying and unwelcome (or maybe that’s just me). Recommending and suggesting books I love and can do all the livelong day. 

I encourage people to tell me about their latest foray into fiction or that one novel they haven’t been able to stop thinking about for years, but when you actually physically give someone a book, well. 

There’s pressure involved. 

In that other book review post, A Man Called Ove, I outlined how one of three things would happen if someone gives you a book and you read it:

1. The book is good and you chastise yourself for being a moron and not knowing about it earlier. 

2. The rare occurrence of the book being a home-run and has a place proudly sitting on your favorites shelf forever. 

3. The book sucks, the whole journey was tedious and annoying, and the person who lent the book to you in the first place is disappointed or butt-hurt. 

In the last review it was the third option, and to be fair, it usually is. Oftentimes this isn’t even because the book is bad per se, but more so because the book isn’t for me and my interest in it to begin with was tenuous and shaky at best. 

Fortunately, in the case of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo it was option 1 with a small leeway into option 2. I had never heard of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo before or the author, Taylor Jenkins Reid, for that matter, and when my friend gave it to me I put it off on my shelf to collect dust for several months.

However, as my to-be-read list dwindled down to nothing and my newest shipment of books was not yet ready (I might have been waiting for all those Barnes and Noble gift cards I knew were lurking in unopened Christmas cards) I decided to give it a try, and oh boy, am I glad I did. 

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is an adult fiction LGBT novel that focuses on two different timelines running parallel throughout the book. We start off with our main character in the present day of 2017, Monique Grant, a biracial journalist in her 30’s who currently works for a publication called Vivant in New York City but wants more. 

In the midst of an impending divorce, stagnating at work, and missing her long ago deceased father, the only thing Monique takes pride in is a piece she did about euthanasia and how there is mercy in killing before suffering a few years back. 

Her life takes an unexpected turn when Hollywood legacy, Evelyn Hugo, reaches out to her through her job and asks to meet with her. What she thinks is simply a meeting about Evelyn’s recent gown donation turns out to be a life-changing decision where she not only learns about the life and loves of Evelyn Hugo, but also about herself and the choices she made along the way by being tasked to write Evelyn’s biography. 

Monique’s POV is sprinkled throughout the story, thrusting us back into the present every so often, but most of the book is now an eighty-year-old Evelyn dictating her rise to fame from the 50’s all the way to the 80’s and beyond as she lays out the ugly, the beautiful, the sordid, and the desperate actions and choices she made to where she rests as an old woman before Monique, alone, filthy rich, and ominous about the end of her life from a first person perspective. 

To be very blunt, I didn’t care much for Monique. 

I liked the representation of her character, but she often came across as judgy, annoying, and rash. Several times throughout the novel, she has to apologize for speaking too quickly or for jumping to conclusions and for someone who is a journalist I found it to be an odd trait. 

Her growth as a character as a direct involvement with Evelyn was interesting, and I truly enjoyed the fact that at the end of the day, Monique remains a single woman who didn’t want to settle for something less than she deserved. 

That’s more than I can say for most YA protagonists who almost always end up with someone romantically because god forbid they remain alone. 

Evelyn, on the other hand, I immensely enjoyed. 

She’s snarky, manipulative, mean, catty, ruthless, and greedy. 

She’s also hardworking, confident, intelligent, and passionate. 

She came across as a real person to me, a real person with flaws and with qualities I admired. She was kind of a bitch, and I loved that about her. The other characters from Evelyn’s tale, mainly her seven husbands, her friends, and Celia St. James, were also well developed and nuanced characters. 

Nobody was good or bad. Everyone had aspects of both in them and it was so good to see portrayals of characters that resembled real flesh-and-blood human beings. 

As you would expect, there is a lot of scandal, romance, sex, and the glitter and glamour of Hollywood throughout these pages. What I didn’t expect were the themes of race, of sexuality, of gender roles, of death, and of forgiveness. 

Having a bisexual Cuban-American main character detailing her rise to fame in 1950’s America was incredibly interesting from a variety of standpoints. 

To me, though, the biggest theme was about love. 

As the book is called The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, there is of course, an explicit understanding that love will play a large role in the novel. What I didn’t expect was the complex way in which love was depicted. 

The author Reid wanted to convey that romantic love wasn’t the only love worth writing about, and how there are all kinds of wonderful and all-consuming loves that have nothing to do with romance or sex at all. 

Parental love, friendship, inspiration, romance, and familial bonds were all represented and not one was shown to be more valuable or more interesting than the other. All of Evelyn’s relationships had merit, and at the end of the day, everything Evelyn did, start to finish, was for someone she loved one way or another. 

In some ways, aren’t we all Evelyn Hugo?

Together with the myriad themes, the alternating timelines, the representation, and the juicy plot, the story was enjoyable from the first page to the last. The writing itself is very fluid and very easy. 

This is not a hard read by any means. The vocabulary was simple and the writing was simple, but it was very entertaining and at the end, even thought-provoking. 

It made me think. 

Was I making the right choices in my life? Or was I settling for easy? For forgettable? Was I holding myself to high standards and getting what I wanted? What I deserved?

Books that make me sit in silence after I finish reading them, tears in my eye because I’m so emotionally overwhelmed are few and far between. This is what I did after finishing reading The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. I simply sat on my couch, mind spinning, and tried not to cry. 

That, to me, is the mark of an excellent book. 

Recommendation: If you like strong and sassy female characters then this is definitely a novel worth checking out. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is a whirlwind romance, but perhaps not in the way you would suspect. With fluid writing, engaging characters, a scintillating plot, and themes that will leave you gaping, what better way to start off the year 2021 than by giving yourself a truly fantastic read? 

Score: 9/10

[mercheswan]

Love in a bottle

AO3

Stiles is a five year student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was placed on Slytherin House. He is ambitious, brilliant, incredibly smart and a troublemaker. He is also one of the students with more potential from all the School, he is sure to become a powerful wizard.

For being a Slytherin he is also kind, he has friends from all houses, he is social, but there is one person who he can’t seem to get along with: Lydia Martin, fellow Slytherin housemate with whom Stiles is in love. But Lydia has never taken any interest in him apart form the academic in which they both compete, so Stiles has made up his mind to change that fact.

Stiles has been researching in the library and he believes he has found a solution. A love potion. The love potion is one of the hardest to do but Stiles is confident about his abilities. All he needs is for Lydia to spend some time with him, she would realise that they are meant to be and when the potion wears off she would fall in love too.

Stiles believes his master plan is perfect, so he collects all the ingredients he needs. He pours the potion into a cup of coffee. Black and no sugar, just the way she likes it, all that’s left is for Lydia to drink the potion...

~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning Lydia” Stiles says to the redhead. Lydia shortly smiles before continuing to read her book. “I brought you coffee” Stiles proclaims placing the cup in from of her crush.

“That’s very kind of you” Lydia thanks Stiles before continue reading her book. Stiles stays in front of her, waiting for her to drink the coffe. “Do you need anything else?” The readheas asks.

“No, nop, I-I leave you to your studies...” Stiles excuses himself walking to the end of the classroom. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t drink it right away. But what Stiles was not expecting was the arrival of Theo Raeken.

Theo is a Slytherin Wizard like Stiles and Lydia. He is in fact Slytherin’s golden boy, the very best representation of a Slytherin snake. Cold-hearted, competitive, manipulative... Stiles basically hates him. They are some kind of rival m, because Theo is always provoking and teasing him.

Stiles sees Theo walking towards Lydia’s table and small talk with her. But he will have never expected what happens next. Theo takes Lydia’s coffe cup, the one with the love potion inside and meeting Stiles’ eyes in the distance lifts the cup to his mouth. Before Stiles comprehends what is about to happen all he can do is stare as Theo drinks the coffee he prepared for Lydia.

“Theo! W-wait!!” Stiles shouts running towards the boy.

“Hey Stiles, what’s wrong?” Theo asks.

“Y-youu... were not supposed to drink that!!” Stiles complains.

“I’m sorry Stiles, you can make me another coffee if you want. Theo said he has been studying all night and he needed the caffeine” Lydia explains.

“The coffee tastes good, thanks Stiles” Theo smirks. Before Stiles could respond the Professor arrived and all the students moved to sit. Stiles went to his place looking absolutely shocked. This is not what it was supposed to happen! Maybe the potion won’t work, it’s a difficult potion, maybe Stiles messed up preparing it.

Not a chance.

Theo is incredibly forward and aggressive with his flirting. Stiles has never blush so much in his entire life. Theo follows him everywhere, he sends him magic letters declaring his love for him, and uses any chance he can in flying class to bump into him. Theo gave him a gigantic flower that almost ate a fellow student as a pet present.

“Maybe you should give him a chance, he seems to really like you” Scott, a Gryffindor friend argues. What Scott doesn’t know it that Theo’s feelings are artificial, he is acting that way because of the potion.

“I don’t know... if I ignore him he’ll stop... eventually...” Stiles allegues

“If you’re so sure that you don’t want to be with him, maybe you should go on a date with him and let him down slowly...” Kira, another Gryffindor student, suggests.

And that’s a good option. Stiles can accept the date and make it a living hell, making the potion wear off. So Stiles accepts Theo’s offer to go on a date. Stiles couldn’t help but to flinch when he saw the excitement in Theo’s eyes. The truth is that Stiles didn’t want Theo to suffer, this was never supposed to happen in the first place.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Theo insists that he should be the one organising the date and Stiles agrees to it. He has to prepare the speech he is going to give Theo about how they will never work out anyway.

But as it’s been happening lately, Stiles’s plans never go the way they are supposed to.

The date with Theo... was incredibly fun. Theo planned the date to every detail, butter beers in Hogsmeade, picnic at the Forbidden Lake... they even pranked Filch together. And Stiles loves to prank Filch.

Maybe it is because he hasn’t had such a great time in so long but he accepts to go out with Theo again. And the following dates are also perfect. Stiles is not blind and he can see that Theo is very attractive. Having such a hot guy after you is exciting. Stiles starts to spent more and more time with Theo. They partner together in class, practice quidditch... they are the power couple of Slytherin House.

Their first kiss is something Stiles will never forget. They were in the library having a “research date” as Theo calls them when Stiles noticed that Theo was looking at him with an intense gaze. Before Stiles had the chance to ask what was wrong, Theo grabbed him him the arm and pushed him toward an unoccupied aisle, trapping Stiles against the bookshelves and crushing their lips together in a hungry kiss that made Stiles’s brain melt.

“What was that for!?” Stiles breathlessly asked.

“Stop sucking your pen like that you tease! It’s distracting” Theo responded before pulling his lips on Stiles’ again exploring his mouth. Stiles couldn’t help the moan that escaped from his mouth that made Theo go crazy pulling their bodies even closer if possible, until they were rubbing their hips together and their hands massaged their backs and necks.

“T-The-o...” Stiles said between kisses. Theo hummed. “Herbo-bology... we need to do Herbology...”

Theo groaned. “We finish this later”

Some of the students at Slytherin are not happy they are dating though, Theo is legacy and Stiles is not pure blood, but Theo turns the bullies into rats and Stiles has never seen anything as romantic as that. He knows he is falling in love with Theo. The smirking bastard... who is Stiles kidding, Theo turns him on a lot. But behind all that, the real Theo is attentive and protective. Stiles really hopes that Theo is truly falling in love with him too...

Stiles is gonna have to come forward about the love potion, but he is afraid of telling Theo... he could react badly and break up with him. Stiles has gotten used to being with Theo.

But the conversation need to happen because Stiles can’t lie anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Theo...” Stiles says joining his boyfriend in the Slytherin common room.

“Hey babe!” Theo responds pecking Stiles on the lips.

“I need to talk to you about something...” Stiles murmures

“Okay...” Theo says taking Stiles’s hand.

“So... remember when... A couple months ago, before we dated... you were kinda crazy, like doing stupid things to get me to say yes to date you...” Stiles comments

“Yeah... it was crazy, now I think about it and I did humiliate myself to get you huh? It’s like you bewitched me” Theo claims lifting his head to kiss Stiles.

But before that Stiles stops him. “Well... about that... I kinda did..” Theo looks confused. “I-I made a love potion... it was for Lydia, but you drank her coffee” Stiles confesses. Theo stares at Stiles with an indescriptible face. “Theo...”

“So you did confess... I wasn’t sure you would” Theo smirks.

Wait what? “What?!”

“I knew” Theo claims.

“What!?” Stiles repeats.

Theo huffs a laugh. “I knew. I saw you making the potion, I knew it was for Lydia, so I pretended to drink it to get close to you”

“What?” Stiles insists. “You drank the potion?! On purpose!!?”

“No” Theo snorts. “I made the potion disappear, I drank air”

“Bu-ut... then why did you act like that?” Stiles questions

“Because I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to get a chance to date you” Theo allegues.

“You!! You manipulated me!” Stiles accuses

“Says the one who was going to use magic to get a date” Theo huffs.

“It’s all been a lie!” Stiles argues

“Has it really? Because I think we both acted willingly with every move we did. We may have hidden some information but when it comes to our feelings, they were real. You like my dark side just as much as I like yours. Admitt it. We are both Slytherins after all” Theo claims

“I hate you” Stiles says

“I hate you too” Theo smiles.

Stiles kisses Theo, both of them smiling into the kiss. Stiles does actually consider the love potion a success, he did get love in the end.

[smoochkooks]

—the (un)holy cock-up (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst 

⟶ word count: 14.5k

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, profanity, unnecessary amount of biblical puns, some critic on catholic church, this is a heavy read be aware

⟶ summary: there is a quite long list of circumstances, with student loan and rent on the very top of it, that led you to work in the sunday’s spirit editorial department, a newspaper overally known among fellow catholic community of busan, with park jimin as your boss.

when your small cock-up goes unnoticeably out of your hand, you find yourself in a situation painted in all shades of wrong.

or, alternatively: when it’s forbidden, it tastes bittersweet.

a/n: please, before you read this: take the warnings seriously. this is not a light read, it touches some heavy and quite controversial topics. tit also involves a scene where a person in charge exhibits inappropriate behavior towards their subordinate which I do not condone, however it’s all done with consent.

ps. im really proud of this work so give me some love please:(

Fingertips typing furiously on the keyboards, sights focused on the computers’ screens, brows furrowed, minds utterly concentrated and all of this accompanied by angelic voices of various religious songs playing in the background.

This is how a typical day at Sunday’s Spirit editorial department goes by.

The newspaper is a local source of information for the catholic community not only in the city of Busan, but in the whole country. Its history starts in 70s, when Park Min-Sung with his wife started publishing the very first version of the Sunday’s Spirit, selling copies in front of churches. Young activists definitely hadn’t anticipated such a big success, especially due to hard times of the military dictatorship in Korea, but two decades later they have become one of the most affluent families in Busan. The newspaper remains the Park’s legacy till these days, being owned by Min-Sung’s son, with the original founder’s grandson Jimin as an editor-in-chief.

Sometimes you ponder how did you end up in this kind of situation. Sitting at your desk with eyes glued to the screen, working for the catholic newspaper with Mary did you know and other holy songs playing from the Spotify’s Blessed Hits playlist.

First of all, you aren’t quite a Jesus stan yourself. Not a regular churchgoer, Bible reader or a person who lives according to God’s will with Ten Commandments written on your heart and soul.

Someone may wonder, what a young, aspiring journalist like you is doing here? Yes, that’s right.

Money is the reason.

The perspectives of wealthy life as a presenter in the national television or a host in the radio were just a mirage, because after receiving your master degree in journalism you realised that, unfortunately, a bright future was bright only in your unreal dreams.

The case was simple. You needed money. Your bank account was literally screaming at you to get your shit together and figure something out before you end up under the bridge. So you started searching for a job, looking over various offers on the Internet for two weeks straight. A waitress? Nah, too clumsy for that. Jewelry seller? Definitely not, since you are a happy owner of a few pairs of earrings from etsy-like online shop that certainly have nothing to do with real gold. You were almost convinced you’re destined to be a sexworker but then you stumbled upon an offer from the Sunday’s Spirit.

It was your chance. A God himself decided to take pity on you.

In that exact moment the genre of the newspaper wasn’t important. The vision of bankruptcy was enough for you to wear knee-length black skirt, white button-up shirt and a pair of high heels you’ve never worn before and go on a job interview with plastered smile on your face, looking delightful like you have just given birth to Jesus Christ in Bethlehem.

All the Hollywood actresses could be put into shame after your Oscar-winning performance you acted out on the interview in front of middle-aged woman in checked jacket that no one wears since 90s. Your enthusiasm and assurance you live good, catholic woman’s life, along with your master degree and motivational letter (you added a quote from The Letter to Philipians at the end of it to spice it up) was enough to be accepted for the position of Ask and you shall find column creator.

The job itself wasn’t complex or tough. The newspaper on its online site has a page where people can create an account and send asks to the author of the column who responds to them. You did something wrong and you aren’t sure it should be considered a sin? Having problems with regular praying on mornings and evenings? Write to us and we will solemnly help you with the God’s blessing, it says.

This is basically how it works. Each week, the said journalist chooses the most interesting questions and answers to make an article to the Sunday’s Spirit’s next publication. Of course, you can’t answer those questions the way you would like. You must do it according to the catholic laws and God’s plan (the True God’s plan, not Drake’s). A woman who interviewed you even gave you a notebook full of already made-up responses and a list of things you definetely mustn’t write if you still want to be employed.

To be completely frank, you don’t hate your job that much. You actually feel kind of nice, helping other people with their problems. You’ve been doing this for six months now and during this period of time you got used to some things.

A ‘Jesus, I trust you’ framed picture you swore your mother gave you on your 16th birthday standing on your desk. Holy beats blasting through the speakers until you leave the office at 5pm. A big-ass cross hanging right in front of the entrance to the editorial. Lee Chin-sun, the Weekly News column author, rushing to Park Jimin’s bureau every day at different hours in her pencil skirts and high heels knocking on the floor.

There’s only the Pentecost in the middle of the office that could actually surprise you.

“Looks like our Mary Magdalene is going to Jesus cave again,” mutters Kim Taehyung, the newspaper’s main photographer, friend from your desk and, actually, the only friend you have here. Very much gay and just like you, in desperate need for money. “It’s her third visit today. I wonder what it is this time. New prayer to Pope Francis she found?” he whispers and you chuckle at that quietly, looking around if anyone pays attention to your conversation, but everyone seems busy doing their own stuff. “Maybe she’s sucking his dick right now and we all think they are playing Who said it? Bible edition,” he adds in a hushed tone.

You start thinking about it for a while. Is that really possible for someone like Park Jimin, the editor-in-chief of the Sunday’s Spirit to have a sexual relationship with his coworker? The man who has a smaller version of Pietà in his office?

“I mean look at him. I would smash that ass too.”

You roll your eyes at Taehyung words, going back to your previous task but every time you try to concentrate, the face of your boss appears in front of your eyes uncontrollably.

Truth to be told, Park Jimin was a sight.

Blond hair, always perfectly styled and simply parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Dark, sharp eyes that seem to pierce right through your soul and full, plump lips which could only be described as kissable.

He wears only high fashion brands, wandering through the office in Prada and Tom Ford suits that hugs his sculpted body just right. You think that as for a person who never misses Sunday’s mass, Park Jimin has also nice thighs. And a fine piece of ass, as Taehyung would describe it.

Newest Rolex that costs probably more than you will ever earn in your entire life on his wrist, Mercedes who just got brought out to the international market standing on his parking spot in front of the building, an apartment in the most luxurious area in Busan.

Park Jimin inhales God’s mercy and exhales money.

You spoke to him more explicitly only once, on your first day at work. He greeted you and wished good luck, saying that everything will be fine because you know, God’s good. Since that day, Park Jimin seems out of your reach. You contact him only through email, sending articles for him to check and approve, occasionally receiving some short message from him to improve this and that. He rarely leaves his office during working hours but when he does, it’s either for business meetings outside the editorial or for a lunch at nearby restaurant.

There’s also one, special occasion, every Friday, that’s a sacred time for all the employees. The clock hits 12am and so it begins. The angelic voices stop singing and everybody shifts on their sits.

“Oh, Holy Judas. I almost forgot about my favourite part of the week,” Taehyung sighs, standing up from his desk. And by that, he means-

“Friday’s Bible contemplation lunch break, everyone please gather up at the cafeteria.” Park Jimin’s sweet as honey voice says through the speakers.

You stand up from your chair with reluctance. Taking food with you, you go to the cafeteria, following Taehyung.

That’s actually the next thing you got used to while working at Sunday’s Spirit. Bible contemplation meetings are, as you found out from Taehyung, Jimin’s idea after he became an editor-in-chief almost one year ago. Every Friday all the workers sit together, eat their lunches and listen to Jimin as he reads a certain chapter from the book with true admiration written on their faces. After that, he usually asks some questions holding a discussion among the participants who, unlike you, happily takes part in.

The cafeteria looks rather normal, like any other lunchrooms you see in offices. Painted in bright yellow colors, with a few tables and a typical kitchen set in the back. Except for one thing.

A replica of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper hanging on the wall.

You decided a long time ago that you don’t want to know how much money it cost Jimin to have something like that here.

The newspaper’s workers, almost like the twelve Apostles, sit together by the tables. Lee Chin-sun at the very front, looking completely mesmerized by today’s Park Jimin’s appearance. He’s wearing navy blue suit that Taehyung swears it’s from Hugo Boss. The place next to Chin-sun is always occupied by tall, black-haired guy named Choi Eunwoo, main graphic designer, hopelessly in love with her since his first days at work. Behind them there’s a group from emendation department, with their leader Min Yoongi and other journalists. You always sit with Taehyung at the back, near the kitchen, not necessarily paying attention to what’s happening in the front.

Jimin, as on every Friday, walks to the small podium, designed to look like a pulpit in the church and opens the Bible. But one thing is odd: Jimin ain’t no priest or altar boy himself and he certainly dosen’t look like one, flipping through the pages of what you think it’s New Testament this time.

From your point of view, you could practically see how Chin-sun sighs with content expression on her face, lacing her fingers together on the lap and straightening her back. Eunwoo, on the other hand, shifts uncomfortably on his seat, sending Chin-sun quick glances full of unspoken longing she never acknowledges, to his dismay.

Then, Park Jimin clears his throat and the whole cafeteria goes quiet.

Truth to be told, you never really listen to what he’s reading. This time is no different. You just chew on your avocado sandwich, occasionally taking a sip of coffee. Your boss’ smooth voice reaches your ears faintly but you don’t pay attention to it, focusing on eating and Taehyung’s hushed rumbling instead.

“Look at our Mary Magdalene, she looks like she might burst a nut just by listening to CEO Jesus,” he says, making you peek at the girl.

Mary Magdalene is a nickname that Taehyung made up for Chin-sun when he started working at Sunday’s Spirit, mainly because of her attitude and relationship with Jimin. It’s rather platonic, at least for now. She looks at him with pure admiration on her face and she literally melts everytime he smiles at her. But Chin-sun’s ‘stalking’ isn’t unreasonable. Her father is a well-known philanthropist in Busan. He donates catholic charities, churches and, what’s the most interesting – he has some connections with Jimin’s father, the owner of Sunday’s Spirit.

And here’s the thing: Chin-sun’s hare and hounds definitely have some hidden reason. Maybe the whole marriage thing that has become a gossip in the office is true. Which makes poor Eunwoo’s situation even worse.

“Sometimes I wonder why has he fallen in love with her in first place,” you whisper, pointing at the graphic designer. “He knows he stands no chance against Jimin.”

“What can I say, you can’t help who you fall in love with.” Taehyung muses almost poetically, shrugging his shoulders.

You hum at that, placing your coffee cup on the table and looking around the cafeteria. It seems like Jimin has ended his reading session for today and now he invites everyone to join the discussion about the topic. He flashes Chin-sun a gentle smile and you could swear the girl is biting her lip.

On the corner of your eye you see Taehyung smirking.

“What?” you ask.

Taehyung takes a sip of his coffee lazily (it’s always caramel macchiato), peering at Jimin. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if our boss really wants to settle not only with Chin-sun, but anyone in general,” he says languidly.

You furrow your brows. “What makes you think that? I mean, look at him. He probably waits with sex till marriage.” you snort.

Taehyung chuckles at your words. “Ah, sweetheart, you really know nothing about Park Jimin.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves closer to you, leaning towards your ear. “What I mean,” he whispers, “is that Park Jimin isn’t such a prude everyone thinks he is. At least he didn’t use to be.”

You raise your eyebrows at him with disbelief. “What? He’s secretly gay?” you mock.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I wish, but no, he isn’t,” he answers with a sigh. “Do you know Min Yoongi from emendation team?” he then asks, pointing at grey-haired man with feline eyes sitting behind Chin-sun.

You nodd your head. Min Yoongi is a hard to read guy. Always suspiciously silent, practically never leaves his office. Something makes you wonder how did Taehyung end up befriending him enough to casually gossip about the boss. You will ask him about this on another occasion.

“So here’s the thing,” Taehyung begins, lowering the volume of his voice. “He used to study at the same university in Seoul with Jimin. They even had been together in the fraternity. Yoongi-hyung told me some juicy details about our boss’ life back then.”

You frown at his words. “And you are telling me this now?!” you hiss.

“I found out literally two days ago!” Taehyung exclaims, maybe a little too loud, so you quickly place your index finger on your lips, shushing him.

“Fine. Continue.” you whisper, looking around to see if anyone pays attention to you.

“Well, Park Jimin used to be a trouble back then. A golden boy of his family in Busan, but a campus fuckboy and obnoxious heartbreaker in Seoul. He smoked cigarettes, drank enormous amounts of alcohol, got wasted on every weekend, missed classes and changed hair colors as often as his girlfriends. By the way, don’t you think he would slay pink hair?”

“Taehyung can you please–”

“Okay, okay. Enough thirsting over Jimesus. So, as you can see, there was no place for Sunday’s mass and Bible contemplation meetings in his life. And here’s the awaited plotwist. His parents somehow found out his son wasn’t living good catholic life on his studies and got extremely pissed off. They simply gave him an ultimatum: if he doesn’t stop his shenanigans, they will cut him off their money and they won’t make him Sunday’s Spirit heir.” Taehyung stops his rumbling for a while, letting you proceed all the bewildering informations about your dear boss he has just revealed.

Your eyes simply widen at the revelations.

Park Jimin, the man who organises Bible contemplation lunch breaks, a regular churchgoer, someone who you always thought has a cross tattooed on his back, was a playboy who slept with a half of the female community in the university?

Interesting.

“Rest of the story is simple. He changed his behavior, got a master degree in journalism and came back to Busan to work here. What is funny, his first position was the same as yours now,” Taehyung ends his story with a light chuckle. “Now you understand why it’s hard for me to believe he really thinks about getting married and having at least three kids.”

You look up at Park Jimin, who’s standing now in the centre of the cafeteria, with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding at one of the journalists words. His gaze is so intense and filled with such an authority that makes you understand why Chin-sun literally squirms when he looks at her that way.

It’s not hard for you to imagine him in much different surroundings.

Him, standing with a cup of beer in his hand in the middle of the crowd of drunken people at some frat party. There’s a leather jacket on his shoulders and he’s wearing tight-fitting pants that hugs his gorgeous thighs much better than his usual slacks he puts on every day before he sets off to work. He scans the room with a mishevious smirk dancing on his features, biting and licking his lips as he looks for his prey for tonight.

He then spots her, his pick for the night. He runs his fingers through his silky locks and approaches the girl, whispering dirty promises to her ear as he sways their bodies to the rhythm of loud music blasting through the speakers. Later that night he has her underneath him, begging him to touch her. He fucks her hard, leaving bruises all over her limp, exhausted body. There will be soreness between her thighs in the morning and a few violet love bites on her neck, a gentle reminder that all of this wasn’t just a dream.

But there’s no warm body next to her she could wake up to, no ‘good morning, baby’ or a second round of love making between the sheets. Because Park Jimin isn’t like that. He waited until her breath slowed down and eyelids fluttered shut, drifting her off to sleep. He left in the middle of the night, a cigarette caught between his swollen from kisses lips. He fumed the poison and smiled to himself, wondering what his parents would think when they found out. A golden boy of his family, future heir of the Park’s legacy, coming back from one of his sexcapeds with girl which name he didn’t even remember.

The Lord himself must have already cursed him and he’s currently planning the punishments for him in depths of Hell. But does Park Jimin look like he really care?

You stare blankly ahead, imagining those scenes in your head. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs because God, yes, Park Jimin is hot, even if he reads Breviary before he goes to sleep. What a shame he has changed. 

A smooth like honey voice pulls you out from your airy-fairy slumber.

“Miss Y/N?”

You jolt in panic after hearing your name, glancing around and praying that wasn’t the person you think it was. But this silky, melodious voice you would recognize everywhere.

God hates you though, he knows what kind of scandalous things you were daydreaming about and now it’s his time to punish you.

Looking up, your gaze settles on no one other than Park Jimin, who stares at you with his left eyebrow raised, pursing his lips. He extinguishes the aura of pure dominance around him and you involuntarily blush, squirming under his intense glare. You’re royally screwed.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down rapidly beating heart. Without success.

“Yes, sir?” you manage to answer innocently. Certainly not like you weren’t thinking about being fucked by him minutes ago. You don’t even have time to be surprised he remembers your name.

Park Jimin looks unamazed by your sweet tone; he almost seems bored, but definitely irritated. “I asked you a question and I’m waiting for your response.” he says lowly.

Fuckfuckfuck. God have mercy on you. What was the question? Shit, you don’t even know what fragment he had read before.

In act of complete desperation you elbow Taehyung for help but this little shit pretends he has no idea what’s going on, looking at The Last Supper with sudden interest.

You are purely, loyally, utterly fucked.

You adopt the most charming smile you could muster, knowing that it will have zero affect on Park Jimin and ask, “Could you repeat the question one more time, sir? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you correctly.” Jesus, when has your voice become so high-pitched?

A cruel smirks forms on Park Jimin’s lips. He shakes his head, tsking. Taehyung mutters something under his breath that sounds dangerously close to “It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” You gulp, waiting for your sentence and hoping Pontius Pilate will be gracious to you.

“My, my,” Jimin muses. It makes you feel like a little girl being scolded by the teacher due to her outrageous behavior. You bite your lip so hard you might draw blood, waiting for your boss’ next words. “Of course you didn’t hear my question, because you weren’t paying attention to our discussion.”

In the corner of your eye you see Chin-sun shaking her head with detestation. What a bitch, you think to yourself.

You take a deep breath then, nails digging crescent moons on the skin of your palms. You don’t like being in the spotlight, you never did, but now you have no choice but face the consequences. “My deepest apologies, sir. The behavior I exhibited was highly inappropriate,” you say, bowing your head. Jimin eyes your figure from head to toe and you might actually feel his burning gaze on your skin. Your cheeks flush in crimson even more.

The editor-in-chief seems to deliberate with himself for a while, turning his head slightly to the side, not breaking the eye contact with you. Finally, after a moment that seems to last an hour, he speaks.

“I think you need a lesson that will teach you to pay attention to our weekly discussions, miss Y/N. That’s why I want you to write a 4000 words long paper about the role of Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ’s life which we had discussed today but you, unfortunately, didn’t acknowledge it.”

You freeze. Like a scene in the movie, everything stops. The embarassement you felt earlier is quickly replaced by pure anger and irritation. He wants you to write a fucking paper? What is this? University lectures?

Never before in your entire life have you felt so humiliated. All eyes are on you; you could practically sense how they are trying not to laugh out loud. Eunwoo and Taehyung look at you with apologetic faces while Chin-sun smirks, whispering something to Jimin’s ear.

“I apologize once again, sir,” you grit through your teeth with a forced smile. Jimin nods then, not even bothering to look at you again. You’re dismissed, that’s what his behavior is saying.

“Our meeting is over, you can go back to your work.” Jimin announces and walks away from the cafeteria with Chin-sun by his side.

You wait for everyone to leave and the you let out a groan of annoyance, burring your head in your hands.

“Hey, it could have been worse. He didn’t fire you after all.” Taehyung laughs but he quickly shuts up as soon as he sees your glare. You stand up from your chair with a scowl written all over your face, and storm out of the lunchroom.

And may the God help you.

Later that unfortunate day, you sit by your desk again, scrolling through the Ask and you shall find page absentmindedly and waiting for the new asks to come. Everyone has returned to their work like nothing has happened but it doesn’t stop you from feeling all those eyes constantly on your back. Maybe you weren’t fired but the humiliation and embarrassment of being told off by your boss publicly makes you want to disappear and never show up at the editorial again.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look up at him and find the man smiling at you lightly. He’s wearing a long, camel coat and a big scarf around his neck with ridiculous patterns that reminds you of Persian diwans. He places his black camera bag on the desk, which means he’s leaving the office. “I’m free of office work for today so I just wanted to say goodbye.” he explains and you just nod.

“Bye, Taehyung. See you on Monday.” you say maybe a little bit to wryly and he feels that, letting out a long sigh.

Taehyung seems to deliberate with himself for a moment before he decides to speak again. He clears his throat audibly. “And I, uhm, I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you are in this situation. I started this conversation and I should be the one writing this stupid paper for Mister Prude.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the new nickname Taehyung gave Jimin. The anger you felt before drifts away from you slowly, and you smile at your friend apologetically. “Oh, God, Tae. I’m such a bitch sometimes, sorry,” you blurt out.”I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at him. Besides, maybe that’s good I’ve got homework. I don’t remember when was the last time I wrote some-”

Your words are interrupted by a loud laugh that resonates through the office. You look in the direction of the voice just to see Chin-sun with her manicured hand on Jimin’s chest, throwing her head back from the laughter, too dramatically for your taste. She seems to have changed her clothes, a black pencil skirt long forgotten and replaced by a red, bodycon dress. Her dark hair is also styled differently, curled and loose. She looks beautiful, matching Jimin’s appearance perfectly.

“Where are they going?” Taehyung whispers to you, furrowing his brows. You shrug your shoulders, tearing your eyes of Chin-sun and Jimin. “Maybe our Mary Magdalene’s plan to win Jesus’ heart is working. Poor Eunwoo,” he sighs, looking at his watch to check the time. “Anyway, I gotta go. I have to drive all the way to some shithole near the city to take photos of an old lady who swears she saw saint Francis or other dude with halo speaking to her,” he grumbles and you giggle at his words. “Good luck with your paper, sweetheart.” he leans and places a small peck on your cheek.

“Bye, Tae.” you say, watching him leave the office right after Jimin and Chin-sun.

You let out a long, tired sigh, counting the time to leave the office and finally be back home, with a bottle of red wine and new season of Game of Thrones that are waiting for you to watch the whole week. Then, when you’re about to stand up and make yourself another coffee, a new ask pops up in your inbox with the title ‘Sex S.O.S’.

You raise your eyebrows because honestly, what kind of title is this? Curiosity wins the battle with a hot cup of an americano and you click the show more button. You put on your prescription glasses and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyfriend. And here’s where the actual problem begins. I’m from the catholic family with long traditions, and as you can guess, he isn’t.

We’ve been together for almost 2 years now and since my parents don’t want me to live with him before the marriage, there’s also no sexual life between us. I was actually surprised they agreed I can date a non-religious person in first place, so the rules weren’t that horrible at the beginning.

My boyfriend always seemed to be understanding about the fact that I’m catholic and he has never had issues against it because I stated this on the start of our relationship, but lately… he’s been distant. We meet up less often and I feel like simple kissing after 2 years isn’t enough for him. I even thought about initiating something that wouldn’t necessarily involve the real intercourse but I’m too inexperienced and shy for that. We are slowly drifting apart.

I don’t know what to do. I love him so much and I don’t want to lose him just because of some stupid rules I need to follow. I’m scared he will leave me for some other beautiful girl who wouldn’t have anything against sleeping with him, especially after considering the fact that he isn’t virgin unlike me and he experienced this kind of pleasure before.

I hope you will help me.

Yours faithfully,

Kang Seoyeon.

You blink once, twice. Read the message again and then, something snaps in you.

To Hell with these stupid, old-fashioned rules straight from the Middle Ages. To Hell with celibacy till marriage, masturbation prohibition and living according to God’s will. To Hell with Park Jimin and his ridiculous moral code (and his Bible contemplation lunchbreaks).

Unofficial eleventh commandment: If a girl wants a dick, she deserves to have it.

And that’s exactly what your response to the girl is in a nutshell.

Your blood boils in your veins with anger as you’re typing furiously on the keyboard, not even bothering to check if your sudden outburst makes any sense.

Dear Seoyeon,

It’s Y/N here, the journalist who you wrote this message to.

I don’t know what kind of response are you expecting from me but honestly? If you think I’m going to recommend you some praying to Saint Rita then you’re wrong. I’m done with this shit.

Let me make this straight: if you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy.

They are plenty of worse things in this world than having sex with the person you love. Look at me. I’m literally writing to catholic newspaper while using words like ‘God’ and ‘Fuck’ in the same sentence. And that’s not even a small piece of what I’ve done in my life.

So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this. You have my blessings and Jesus is giving you metaphysical thumbs up from above. Sex is amazing thing and you don’t have to wait for it until you say ‘yes’ in front of some guy in black cassock. Just go with the flow.

 May the God help you!

Love, Y/N.

P.S. Watch out that guy. He seems suspicious. If he’s been really sex deprived for two years he will die after you give him a head.

Sent.

You exhale loudly, staring at the screen. You did that. Six months into working in Sunday’s Spirit and the time when you lost your temper has finally come. You should probably feel ashamed or have some type of conscience pangs but actually you aren’t even near this state.

Grinning to yourself, you delete the message you had sent to the girl from your inbox and check the time. It’s almost 5pm and it looks like you haven’t even realised you’re the only person at the office right now. Since it’s Friday and Jimin has already left, seems like everyone has decided to set off earlier too.

You turn off your computer, packing your things to the bag. Wrapping a scarf around your neck tightly, you leave the building, welcoming the coolness of the early Spring evening in Busan.

When you’re about to cross the street, your phone buzzes in the pocket of your coat. You stop for a moment, smiling to yourself when you read the message.

[04:23pm] from Tae: hey

[04:23pm] from Tae: i know you are probably planning an evening with mary magdalene n jesus but

[04:23pm] from Tae: wouldnt u want to go for drinks with me tonight?

[04:23pm] from Tae: same place as usual

[04:24pm] from Tae: as a wise man once said: nothing helps better for the writer’s block than vodka

[04:24pm] from Tae: so what do u say?

You don’t need to think twice when you quickly type a response. Game of Thrones and wine can wait till another time.

[04:26pm] from me: how could i say no to kim taehyung and vodka?

[04:26pm] from me: see u there

Kim’s is a place like no one other in Busan.

You wouldn’t even know about its existence if it wasn’t Taehyung who took you there first when you started working at Sunday’s Spirit, solemnly promising free drinks. Who would you be if you didn’t agree to that?

When you arrived at the bar, it eventually turned out the alcohol was costless hence it’s his family business since over thirty years and his brother Namjoon is a bartender, not because Taehyung willingly decided to pay for you.

Kim’s is located in rather industrial part of the city, sandwiched between factories and huge housing estates, not looking really inviting at first glance, but the place has its own, unique charm. There are some stories, shrouding the building’s history in mystery. Some people say it used to be headquarters of the most dangerous mafia in Busan, some even believe it served as the secret arsenal during the Korean War.

But what’s definitely true, it’s the fact that Taehyung’s parents bought this place in swinging times of 80s for a small amount of money and turned the place into disco bar which had become a must-go spot for young people in Busan.

Kim’s on the outside, with its large red neon sign hanging above the entrance, looks more like a night club than a bar, but on the inside the magic of kitschy 80s still remains the same (Taehyung swears retro is in fashion these days and that’s why he didn’t let his parents redecorate when they wanted to).

You always feel like you’re traveling back in time when you visist Kim’s.

The place is quite big, with a large dancefloor in the middle and red leather sofas strewn around the place along with the tables. Walls are made of brick and colorful, vibrant neon lights are shimmering on them. Oh, not to mention the huge disco ball on the ceiling. Everything accompanied with the quality music provided by Namjoon.

There are few billiard and foosball tables in the corner of the bar, always occupied by the same group of middle-aged men on weekdays and university students on weekends. But the thing that attract attention of the customers the most, is the bar with Namjoon behind it.

When you enter the place, you spot Taehyung and his blond mop of hair immediately. He sits on one of the bar stools, talking to his older brother. He’s wearing beige pants and floral button-up shirt that seems to match colors with his pinkish-looking drink he holds. You notice a new pair of sapphire earrings and a huge ring from the same collection on his forefinger. Classy, as always.

Taehyung grins broadly when he sees you. He puts his drink on the counter and stands up to greet you. His breath smells like strawberries and vodka when he leans to place his usual, small peck on your cheek. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says with his signature smirk plastered on his face, scanning your figure. “You look gorgeous. Last time you did this kind of make-up you wanted to get laid.”

You rolls your eyes at his words, sitting on a stool next to him. “Hi, Taehyung. Thank you for appreciating my efforts to look like a decent human being but no, I’m not planning on getting laid tonight.” you answer, waving to Namjoon who makes drinks for a group of girls a few meters from you. He smiles bashfully at you, showing his dimples.

“I’m not saying you want a fuck, calm down. I just assumed since it’s not everyday that you put eyeliner on,” Taehyung explains himself. “So let me do that again,” He takes a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest in a dramatic manner. “Y/N, you look absolutely breathtaking. I could stare at you for hours and I wouldn’t mind that even a bit. My homosexuality is at risk right now.”

You ignore his exeggarated outburst, rolling your eyes. “I’m not using eyeliner everyday because there’s something called dresscode in our work, you know?” you say. “Besides, my mum says you should look good on every occasion because you don’t know when you will meet the love of your life.”

Taehyung puts a hand on his heart and sighs with relief. “Thank God I always look good.”

You chuckle and then your eyes wander for a moment to Namjoon, who seems busy listening to whatever the pink-haired girl is telling him with polite smile on his face.

“Here,” Taehyung nudges your side, bringing your attention back to him. He hands you the same pinkish drink as he was drinking when you arrived. “Hyung told me it’s their new specialty or something. It’s called Flamingo’s Beach,” he says and you take the glass in your hand. “I have no idea what Namjoonie-hyung put here but as long as it looks good, it’s good. Cheers!” Taehyung sips his one and watches you with raised eyebrows as you’re taking a generous gulp of the drink. “And…?” he asks.

You lick your lips, humming to yourself. “Not bad. Tastes like strawberries.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to say something but he gets interrupted by his brother. “Y/N, hi. How are you?” Namjoon approaches you with two beer mugs in his hands.

His hair is back to his natural brown color now, purple strands long forgotten since the last time you saw him. It looks like he’s been working out lately, his posture more bulky and it makes his black shirt stick to his body tightly. Namjoon’s good-looking, you always knew that, but he seems to be even more handsome now.

“Hey, I’ve been good, thank you,” you greet him with maybe too much enthusiasm for your liking. You always had a weak spot for him. “How’s the bar going?” you ask.

“Busy, as you can see,” he replies, chuckling to himself. “I would love to talk to you more but I have some work to do in back room, so…” Namjoon trails off sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Oh, it’s okay. We can catch up another time.” You smile at him and you could swear his cheeks flushed.

“I’ll be going. See you.” Namjoon stammers out, not even waiting for your response before he disappears from your sight.

The pregnant silence sets in between you and Taehyung, something heavy hangs in the air and you feel it, tapping your fingers on the counter to the rhythm of one of the ABBA songs, waiting impatiently.

Taehyung looks like he’s debating with himself in his head. You narrow your eyes. He’s adopted a face you know pretty well, too well even. He looks everywhere but keep avoiding your gaze. He wants to ask you something, you’re sure of it, but he doesn’t know how.

Finally, after a moment of awkward quietness, Taehyung finally opens his mouth. “So, here’s the thing,” he starts and you wait for the bomb to drop.

Last time when he approached you like that, he asked you if you would be down for a threesome with him and some guy he met on Tinder. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you heard his blunt proposition. You were eating lunch at cafeteria and the words casually slipped from between his lips as he chewed on his egg sandwich, like he didn’t just propose you having sex with him and instead asked for a lift to home after work.

Taehyung begged you for a whole week, pleading and convincing it’ll be fun. When you eventually agreed (sex draught make people do stupid things), the other guy didn’t show up. You ended up drinking tequila shots with Taehyung that night in his apartment, and you can’t quite recall how it happened, but somehow you found yourself unzipping your friend’s pants and the rest is history. He passed out right after he came. Now when you think about it, you feel a sudden urge to ask him if he remembers that.

You will do it next time, you promise yourself.

Taehyung though doesn’t ask you about having a threesome or robbing Park Jimin’s house this time. His intentions are pretty much different.

“See, Namjoon split up with his girlfriend few weeks ago,” he says and you prick your ears. “He’s not in good condition right now, as you can see. It was a nasty break up, he found out she’s been cheating on him,” He lets out a long sigh. You bite your lip, imagining Namjoon’s disappointed face when he discovered the truth. What a bitch cheats on someone like him? “So, I thought maybe you could… cheer him up a little bit?” Taehyung ends hesitantly, with a glint of hope in his eyes.

You frown. Cheer him up? Did he just imply what you think about?

“Look, I get it, he’s sad and angry, but what the fuck, Taehyung? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to be his rebound? Make him forget?” you exclaim. Taehyung quickly shakes his head but you don’t let him say anything. “I feel sorry for Namjoon but I’m not going to take advantage of him when he’s literally still hurt.”

“No, it’s not like that!” Taehyung rushes to explain. “Well, maybe it sounded like that but I swear, I didn’t mean that!”

“Then what should I do? Wipe his tears? Tell him a joke? Or maybe-”

“Of course he wants you to suck his brother’s heartbroken dick, doll.”

A sudden, low voice interrupts your conversation. Your eyes follow the direction when it comes from, looking to Taehyung’s left where not even a meter away a very familiar grey-haired man with feline eyes sits.

“Min Yoongi,” you say matter-of-factly.

The leader of emendation team from Sunday’s Spirit editorial raises his hand in which he holds whiskey, greeting you and Taehyung. “Hello, doll. Hello, Taehyung,” he says, not even bothering to look at you.

You elbow Taehyung searching for explanation but he shrugs his shoulders, turning to face the man as well.

“First of all, since when do you call me ‘doll’? We have never spoken a word to each other. Secondly, how long have you been sitting here and listening?” you ask Yoongi.

He snorts, smirking. “Long enough to know how Taehyung comforts his brother after break up.” he simply answers and Taehyung’s cheeks blush in crimson at his words.

“You come here often? I’ve never seen you here before,” you continue, crossing your arms over chest.

Next to you Taehyung lets out a sigh. “Yes, he does. Albeit I haven’t seen him for a while here,” You look at him in confusion. “Yoongi-hyung is Namjoonie-hyung close friend from university days.” he clarifies.

You raise your eyebrows at that. “So Namjoon went to the same school as Park Jimin?”

“Not the same. We met under different circumstances.” Yoongi cuts in.

“They’ve been together in underground rap group, or some shit. Didn’t like each other at first but eventually stuck together till the end of studies.” Taehyung ends and grey-haired man nods.

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“What’s funny in that?” Yoongi scowls.

“Nothing. I just imagined you and Namjoon in snapbacks, rapping about the unfairness of social hierarchy,” you say, grinning at him.

“Well, you may believe me or not, but we even made a mixtape.” Yoongi reveals proudly, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Your eyes widen in curiosity. “Then what happened? Why aren’t you in Seoul now, still producing music? Why do you work in this stupid newspaper and Namjoon’s a bartender?” you ask interrogatively.

“Life happened, doll. We didn’t have enough money to publish our works so we decided to quit it.”

“Oh,” you breathe out.

You could see the nostalgia written across Yoongi’s face. You feel sorry for him, for Namjoon. Everything is always about the money. That’s why you’re working in Sunday’s Spirit even though it was never your dream in first place. Even though you have much higher ambitions than being Ask and you shall find column author.

Ever since you were little, you loved writing. You never complained, not even once, when your teachers in school assigned you to write something. They kept saying you have an extraordinary talent and it would be a shame if you didn’t do anything with that.

During your high school years, you were the leader of school newspaper’s team, still writing your own works every time you didn’t have something different to do. After that, you got to the university in Seoul, your another dream came true. You got a master degree, an apprenticeship in the Korean version of highly popular, world-widely known magazine. And then, nothing. No job applications available. No newspapers or publishing companies wanting you, dismissing you right away because they didn’t have any vacant places.

This is how Sunday’s Spirit, even if that’s not your dream job, happened. And quite literally saved your ass.

“I’m sorry.” you say after a while.

Yoongi smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be. What’s in past, stays in past.” he ends the conversation, drinking the rest of his whiskey.

You find this as a perfect possibility to do what you’ve come here for: get wasted, forget about this prick Park Jimin and his stupid assignment. You turn around on your stool to face the bar again, calling for the red-haired bartender named Hoseok who’s substituting Namjoon right now. You order a round of tequilla shots and quickly pours two of them in one go.

“Easy, tiger,” Taehyung teases, still sipping his pink drink as you wipe your chin with the back of your hand. Taehyung has stated a long time ago that he enjoys only casual drinking, which makes you and you lightweightness snort at him.

“Loser,” you mumble under your breath, deep down knowing you’re oh so much going to regret this after.

You focus your attention on the dancefloor now; technicolor lights glittering as the crowd of sweaty people bounce to old Madonna hits. You feel like your spirit might actually experience new kind of awakening during the chorus in Like a Virgin. You mouth the lyrics, the vodka already half-way to your bopping head. Your drunken self almost asks Taehyung and Yoongi if they would agree to be your backup dancers.

You eyes scan the room carefully and then, you spot him. He’s sitting in the corner, his arms splayed over the backrest of the red couch. A devil himself. A black horseman of the Apocalypse. A man who looks like every girl’s next mistake. Taylor Swift’s ‘we are never ever getting back together’.

A true sin.

Jet-black hair parted in the middle, onyx eyes and lucious smirk written across his lips as he bites them purposefully. He’s wearing a leather jacket and you wonder for a while if you would find inked tattoos on his body. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes glued to the same spot as he waits for something, or rather someone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, not even hiding your curiosity at this point.

Taehyung turns around as well, his eyes glancing to the dark-haired man briefly. “Ah, this, sweetheart, is Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin’s best friend.” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You raise your eyebrows, watching as Jungkook’s face expression immediately changes when waitress approaches him. He says something to her that makes her roll her eyes. She tightens her grip around the tray she’s holding, asking him for his order.

“Don’t worry. You are not the only one thirsting over him. I would let him top me too,” Taehyung whispers to your ear and you flinch.

“I’m not thirsting over him! I came her for drinks, not to get laid, I told you.”

“Okay, okay, loosen up a little. Tequilla makes you aggressive. Besides, it looks like he’s got his pick for tonight.”

Jungkook stretches out his hand and fixes the waitress’ glasses that seem to rode down her nose a little. The girl frozes in place because of his action and he grins, calling her cute.

“He’s trying to ask her out for two months,” Yoongi interrupts suddenly, again. It looks like he has nothing better to do tonight. “I’m serious. He’s here every Friday. Normally, he would have given up after the second time she had rejected him but there’s might be something in this girl that makes his dick hard and his heart soft.”

Jungkook’s eyes girl’s body as she bends to pick up the glasses from other tables and maybe that’s the alcohol swimming in your veins but you could swear his face lights up when she sends him another irritated glare when he calls her name.

“Does Park Jimin comes here often as well?” you ask before you could stop yourself.

Both Taehyung and Yoongi shake their heads.

“I don’t think so. Jeon comes here because he lives nearby in this huge ass apartment complex. His father runs a chemical factory and he works there.” Taehyung explains.

Jeon? Chemical factory? Something clicks in your brain. Right, you know who his father is. The King of Washing Powder. Another rich as fuck Busan’s snob.

“God, I hate him. I fucking hate him. What a prick. Douchebag. Asshole of the century,” The string of profanities leaves poor waitress’ mouth as she walks to the counter with tray in her hands. “How’s your day, love? You look beautiful today, love. Fucking leave me alone, love!” she mutters to herself, taking the beer mugs from Hoseok abruptly which makes the bartender raise his eyebrows in confusion.

“How’s your assignment about Mary Magdalene going on, doll?” Yoongi asks then, startling you.

You roll your eyes at him. “I literally got it today, Yoongi. I haven’t started yet.” you answer, gulping another shot.

On the corner of your eye you see Yoongi’s smirking. “I’m surprised, to be honest. You aren’t the only one who doesn’t pay attention to shit Jimin’s says,” he trails off. “I work for him from the moment he started this ridiculous Bible lunch breaks and I swear, he’s never called out someone like that before.”

“What do you mean he’s never called out someone before?” Taehyung joins in curiously.

“Look, I slept through the majority of these sessions and Jimin knows it, but he has never lecture me about it,” Yoongi remarks. “Maybe you’re an exception. Or he’s become more strict because of this bitch Chin-sun.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. You know Chin-sun has been making heart eyes for Jimin for a long time but what why it might have an influence on his behavior?

“Lee Chin-sun? What the office’s Mary Magdalene has to do with that? Besides the fact that she’s drooling for his dick every time she sees him,” Taehyung snorts.

Yoongi chuckles lowly. “Oh, so you two really know nothing about what’s going on between them right now,”

“What’s going on right now? Spill.” Taehyung says abruptly. You sigh when you see the way his eyes flicker with mischeviousness. One thing Taehyung loves more than photography and fashion is gossiping (and dicks).

“First of all, Chin-sun is a fucking bigot. And well… she might be closer to being miss Park than we thought.” Yoongi muses.

Taehyung eyebrows practically disappear in his hairline. You’re sure you mirror his expression right now.

Yoongi asks Hoseok for another glass of whiskey and continues. “My friend Seokjin’s wife is Jimin’s personal assistant and secretary. She heard this and that, quite juicy things I must say,” he says in a lower tone, like he’s revealing government secrets to them. You lean closer into his direction along with Taehyung. “Chin-sun’s father recently bought the claims to the most popular, conservative TV station in whole South Korea. But, what is more interesting, it looks like Park senior has some shares in it as well.”

You’re astonished. You knew there’s something looming in the air but you didn’t expect this. A TV station? Even your slightly drunken brain can calculate it’s very interesting.

“So the marriage between Chin-sun and Jimin would be pretty convenient for their families, especially after considering the fact that Jimin is the heir.” Yoongi adds, gulping the first sip of his new whiskey.

“Poor Eunwoo,” you whisper to yourself.

“But why so soon? Why do they want to legalize their relationship so suddenly?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi lets out a heavy sigh. “There’s a rumour going around that Jimin’s father isn’t in good condition right now. Seokjin-hyung mentioned something about the heart disease. So, if that’s really true, you have the answer why he wants his eldest son to settle down already. Everything’s about the money, I told you.”

Taehyung whistles. “Woah, so Mary Magdalene is really about to be CEO Jesus’ wife soon!” he exclaims, clapping his hands. “Brilliant. Finally something spicy is happening in this boring editorial.”

“I wouldn’t be so enthusiastic if I were you, Taehyung. This kind of business never ends well,” Yoongi says coldly, placing his glass on the counter and standing up from the stool. He glances at his watch and throws a few bills next to his empty glass. “I’ll get going. It was nice talking to you, doll.”

“What about me?”

“Shut up, Taehyung, you’re not pretty lady.”

“I feel offended.”

“And I don’t care,” Yoongi mutters. Maybe that was alcohol swimming in her veins but you saw Taehyung lifting the corners of his lips in amusement. Weird. “Good luck on your assignment, doll. See you all on Monday.” Yoongi glances to your way one last time, adjusting his jacket.

“Bye, Yoongi.” you wave to him and a small, even sincere smile appears on his face when he as well raises his hand lazily and leaves. “Why didn’t you tell me he’s actually nice, Tae? I was always too scared to start a conversation with him because I felt intimidated.” you say after a while.

“I’m sorry, should have I set you up for a date with him?” Taehyung mocks.

A groan escapes your lips. “Could you please stop insinuating things?”

“You need to get laid, seriously. Like soon-soon. You get easily irritated recently. You need a d i c k,”

“I don’t need a dick!”

“A cock, Y/N,” Taehyung emphasizes. “A penis in your precious vagina.”

“Shut up!”

Several shots and a few drunken dances to Cindi Lauper and Bon Jovi, you’re pretty much wasted. And maybe, just maybe, you need a dick. And Taehyung, like a dipshit he always is, thinks that’s actually funny.

“Don’t wanna homff,” you slur, supporting your weight on Taehyung’s arm that shakes with laughter at your drunken antics, as well as his whole body. “I wanna danfce witfh somebodyyy,”

“Holy Mother of Jesus, you must be really drunk if you started referring to Whitney Houston’s songs. And you smell like booze,” Taehyung mutters under his breath and you whine, tugging on his arm.

“TaeTae, Taehyungie, pffleasee, can we go back?”

Taehyung ignores your grumbling completely. He exists the bar, walking (or rather dragging) you to the cab. As he tries to push your body to the car, he sees in the corner of his eye Jeon Jungkook, standing in front of his black SUV. The waitress from earlier accompanies him as well. It looks like he’s trying to convince her to let him give her a lift to home. The girl shakes her head at first but eventually gives up, stepping into the car. Jungkook grins to himself then, clenching his fists in gesture of pure triumph.

“I fuckin’ hate Park Jimin and his stfupid newspaper,” you mutter incoherently as you bury your head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck in the back of the cab. Old, korean songs are playing in the radio when you’re driving back home. Taehyung smiles to himself, hearing your light snores. But then, he falters.

Ah, yes, he almost forgot. It is going to be a long way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Next day, you wake up in the middle of noon with raging headache and an abrupt need to throw everything up. Frankly speaking, you had worse hangovers during you university days but it doesn’t change the fact that the state you’re currently in still sucks.

“Oh, good God, what have I thought?” you mutter to yourself while standing in the shower, letting the water cool you down.

Truth to be told, a drinking escapade when you have a whole ass paper to write in two days wasn’t the smartest idea you could come up with. You know that for sure, when you’re sitting down in front of your laptop with prescription glasses on your face and a cup of tea in your hand.

There’s a blank document opened on the screen, with only your name written in the corner and the title in the middle. You feel pathetic and useless, staring at it for 30 minutes straight. If you keep sitting like this, you might actually call Park Jimin right now and beg him not to fire you due to your incompetence.

“Get your shit together, Y/N.” you say to yourself, clenching your fists.

At first you fought about making some mind-map, outlining the most important parts of your essay, as you always used to do when you were studying. But there’s a huge difference between what you’re working on right now and what you usually did during academic days. Above all, at that time you were writing about things you had more knowledge about, not about Mary Magdalene and her role in Jesus Christ’s life.

“Ah, fuck it.”

You open an online Bible page and quickly type ‘Mary Magdalene’ in browser. All fragments when she’s mentioned shows up in front of your eyes. You fix your glasses and before you could stop yourself, you whisper, “Let’s get it.”

You don’t know how much time has passed since you started reading, but when you glance a the clock it’s nearly 7pm.

You went through every single page in the Bible when Mary Magdalene appears or when for some reason her name comes up in conversations. You read two thesis in which you found quite interesting facts about the heroine of your work. Also, you watched some conspiracy theories on YouTube about her, in which people claim that she was actually Jesus’ wife. You were bewildered, even in your post-hangover state.

And after all of this researching, you have settled a plan. You’re a journalist for God’s sake, you’ve been writing your entire life and none assignment will break you. So you start typing on the keyboard, filling the blank document pages with words, hoping that Park Jimin will approve your efforts.

On Sunday, you look like a ghost.

You’re a mess, cured from hangover but still in bad shape, especially after spending the whole night writing in front of your laptop. There are bangs under your eyes and you hair looks like you could cosplay a scarecrow. Your eyes are sore from staring to the screen for so long and you feel like you might collapse anytime if you won’t drink coffee in five minutes.

In between writing next paragraphs, you answer a call from Taehyung.

“How’s your assignment going, sweetheart?”

You let out a long, exhausted sigh. “It’s fine, I guess.” you respond to him.

“That’s lovely! I knew you would slay this, babe,” you hear him saying.

“I’m not done yet, Tae. I still have like a half to write,” you mumble and then let out a yawn, closing your eyes for a brief second before you speak again. “I would love to talk to you more but I really need to get this shit done as soon as I can, so I could have some decent sleep before Monday. I don’t want to look like an old witch when I hand in the paper to Park Jimin.”

“I know, I know. You got this, sweetheart. I’m sure you will make Mister Prude’s dick hard because of this.” Taehyung assures you.

You crack a tired smile even though you know he doesn’t see you. “Thank you, Tae.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” he says and hangs up.

You take another gulp of your coffee and start writing again.

It’s a little past midnight when you’re, with your last amounts of force you posses, typing the last words of the paper. As you look at your laptop screen, eyelids half-closed, you dream about nothing but going to sleep.

You did that. You really did. You wrote this stupid paper for Park Jimin and you’re actually proud of it. You carefully save the document three times (to be hundred percent sure) and as soon as you close your laptop, you pass out.

Little did you know what is waiting for you in editorial in a few hours.

You stare at your reflection in small mirror you hold, thanking God that he has enlightened the person who discovered make-up. You won’t say you look stunning but, after five hours of sleep you had in last two days, you would risk it all and say you appear much more than decent looking. You’re wearing your new black jumpsuit that makes your legs look longer and you even used a different shade of lipstick, painting your lips in crimson red.

And all of this for nothing, because when you stormed into the Sunday’s Spirit editorial to give the paper straight to Park Jimin’s hands, his secretary with polite smile said he’s coming to work later today.

You pursued your lips and handed the woman your blood, sweat and tears (you’re actually sure a few tears rolled down from your face on the keyboard while you were writing it), wishing you saw your boss’ face when you place the printed pages on his expensive desk.

“I changed a little bit the topic of my work while I was outlining it,” you tell Taehyung as you both sit together by your desks later that day. “I focused more on a role of Mary Magdalene character in world ruled only by men. I showed how a powerful woman she was, standing at Jesus’s side even though the church for the centuries referred her to whore,” you explain.

“Wow,” Taehyung muses. “You turned Mary Magdalene into feminism icon fighting against patriarchy.”

“It’s not like that!” You hit him in the arm. “You may laugh as much as you want but I actually got into her story.”

Taehyung smirks. “Looks like being scolded by Park Jimin wasn’t that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I got humiliated in the middle of fucking cafeteria. I still hate him. And also, I don’t know what he thinks about my essay.” you say with a sigh.

“Don’t worry. He’s probably having an epiphany right now while-”

A voice from the speakers that certainly doesn’t sound like gospel choir interrupts him.

“Miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.”

“-or he isn’t.” Taehyung ends.

Once again, you’re frozen in place. It’s okay, you tell yourself, maybe he just wants to talk about my essay. But what if he didn’t like it? What if your sudden feminism outburst about Mary Magdalene was too much?

“Holy fuck.” you blurt out quietly.

Taehyung gives you an encouraging smile but he doesn’t look much convinced in positive intentions of summoning you to their boss’ office, he just doesn’t say it aloud. “Well, maybe it won’t be that bad! Maybe he wants to congratulate you,” he tries to comfort you, without success. You look horribly pale and scared to death.

“I repeat: miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.” Jimin’s stone cold voice pierce through the silence again. You shiver. The journalists in the editorial send you impatient glares.

“Whatever happens, remember that I love you.” Taehyung whispers, squizzing your hand, which makes you even more nervous. He gives you thumbs-up and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your trembling body. A whole Sunday’s Spirit team follow your movements with their eyes.

You stands from your desk on wobbly legs and walk to the door with golden sign hanging on its surface.

 Park Jimin

 Editor-in-chief

You take the knob in your shaking palm and twist, stepping into the lion’s den.

The atmosphere seems to shift when you walk into the room. You could hear your heart rapidly beating through the dead silence that lingers in Park Jimin’s office. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you ask after closing the door, subconsciously cursing yourself for sounding so weak already.

“Yes, have a seat,” Jimin says. “Give me a second. I need to finish something.” he adds when you sit down, not even bothering to spare you a look.

Jimin sits behind his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen. His hair is pushed back from his forehead, his jaw clenched. Oh, great, he looks pissed, you think to yourself.

He isn’t wearing his suit jacket like usually, which surprises you. His white shirt’s sleeves are rolled up, revealing a glimpse of veiny hands and his Rolex. This is the first time you see him like this. He looks so… unlike him.

Strange.

You use the time you have to take in your surroundings. Jimin’s office is painted in fair tone of grey. The rumors were actually right, there’s a smaller version of Michelangelo’s Pietà standing proudly on of the drawers. Behind the desk, on the wall, hangs a wooden cross with gold-plated figurine of Jesus Christ, and just underneath it there’s a framed picture of Lady of Fatima, which he once proudly showed to the whole editorial team on one of the lunchbreaks, saying his grandmother brought him this from her pilgrimage.

You focus your attention now on the wall filled with numerous diplomas and certificates, all of them signed with Park Jimin’s name.

You had read some of his works before you started your job in Sunday’s Spirit and you must admit: Park Jimin is a talented, smart journalist you aspire to be one day. It’s actually sad, you think, that he can’t pursue his career, wasting his abilities by working in catholic newspaper owned by his father. And as you know from Yoongi, his situation isn’t going to change soon. Maybe he was right after all. Money really does rule this world.

After a few minutes that seems to last forever, Jimin breaks the silence. “Do you know why are you here?” he asks, finally averting his attention to you. He stares so deeply into your eyes that you feel you might faint from the intensity of his aura.

You clear your throat, and then respond. “I do believe it’s about my paper I handed in to you this morning.”

Jimin raises his eyebrow at that. “Your paper? No, everything’s fine about it. I read it and I must say, you did a great job,” he says and you furrow your eyebrows. So if nothing’s is wrong with your essay then what does he want?

“Then… why did you call me in, sir?” you hesitantly ponder.

Jimin laces his fingers together and leans closer over the desk. “Well,” he begins, “Maybe you forgot or you really didn’t know about it, but I used to run the same column as you do now,” You nod your head, recalling what Taehyung told you recently. Jimin continues, “I was actually the one who created it. That means I am still, for this day, its administrator. Which leads to another conclusion: every single ask that is send to our editorial and your responses to them can be monitored by me.” he explains, gauging your reaction. You still don’t have an idea why is he telling you that, so you just sit still and wait.

Then, Jimin reaches for the paper that lays on the left side of his desk and hands it to you. “Could you please tell me what is this?” he asks, pointing at the paper.

You glance at it briefly. “These are the questions I got last week and my responses to them.” you reply straightaway.

Park Jimin doesn’t seem much satisfied after hearing your words. He then takes another paper and gives it to you as well. “And this particular one, Y/N? Could you please read it and tell me what is this?”

Ignoring his forego of ‘miss’, you take it to your hands and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyf-

You gasp and immadietly put a palm over your mouth. Under Seoyeon’s ask there’s also, clear as day, your much inappropriate response to her. In which you persuade the girl to suck her boyfriend off.

Holy fuck. Jesus Christ. Shitshitshit!

Jimin said he monitors everything that people send to the editorial along with the responds. Of course he had to read it. Why have you been so dumb? How could you believe that simple deleting from your inbox would be enough? Why can’t you do something properly for once?

You gulp, trying not to cry because good God, he’s going to fire you. He will kick you out and write a bunch of negative letters to your future employees, in which he will explain in details how disobiedent, reckless of a worker you are.

“Did you also forget how to speak?” Jimin asks. You almost cry out right away from the coldness of his voice.

You muster up a courage and look at him, and that’s a huge mistake because as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re lost for words.”I-I don’t know what to say, sir,” you stammer out. “I have nothing for my defence. I can only apologize for my irresponsible and inappropriate behavior I exhibited.” you say, bowing your head down.

Jimin pursues his lips. He stands from his chair and walks to you, leaning his body on the desk. He takes the paper from you to his hands and starts reading. “If you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy,“ he quotes your response to the girl and your cheeks flush in red; you wish nothing more than to disappear and never see your boss again. But he’s relentless and continues reading, spilling the crude words, humiliating you even more. “So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this.“ Jimin chuckles to himself darkly and you shut your eyes. “Look at me when you are spoken to,” he demands. You quickly oblige, lifting your chin a little to meet his intense gaze. “Is that really how a good, catholic girl should act?” he asks in a mocking tone.

You shake your head. “No, it isn’t.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Do you think he really won’t leave her after this?” he asks out of the blue.

You furrow your eyebrows. What kind of twisted game is he playing now? “I don’t know, sir.” you answer honestly.

Jimin smirks. Devilishly, sultry and completely illegal. He then licks his lips and leans closer to you. You could swear his eyes are darken than before. Something has shifted in his demeanor; he looks daring. “Why don’t you show me then, how this poor girl should suck her boyfriend off, Y/N?” he whispers lowly.

Your eyes widen. Did he just-?

He didn’t. He can’t. Maybe you misheard him, maybe you started imagining things that aren’t real. Oh, sweet Lord, the look of absolute seriousness written on his face tells you very much different.

Park Jimin, your boss, the man who goes regularly on masses and reads Bible, wants you to give him a head. In his office.

May the God help you.

You should probably slap him in the face for his immoral proposition. You should save your dignity, leave and never come back again. But then, you clear your mind from all those twisted thoughts running through it and you realise that you’re walking on a very thin line. Line which is called unemployment and bankruptcy.

You think about your landlord who praised you recently for keeping up with rent every month regularly. You think about your student loans that you still need to pay.

And fuck, you hate Yoongi because he was damn right. Money wouldn’t buy you happiness, but it can provide you that.

That’s why you put away the humiliation, the what ifs. You shut your mind screaming at you and listing the future consequences. Maybe Jimin just tests you, but the way he looks at you denies it. He wants to see you on your knees in front of him. Perhaps he only wants to play before he fires you but you put that thought aside.

You at least need to try.

Jimin searches for any kind of protest in your eyes and when he doesn’t find it, he’s back to his domineering self. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, his voice an octave lower. “Get on your knees.”

He has a calm expression on his face and you wonder for a moment how many times has he been in similar situation before. Having a woman on his mercy and using her the way he likes. And now you know. All those stories you heard about, are actually true. Park Jimin isn’t a prude. He’s dirty.

You fall to the floor with a light whimper. Maybe it’s the last chance for you to leave, but the confidence that emanates from Jimin doesn’t falter your movements. You hate yourself for that but God, you want to see this man being a mess for your touch. Even if that’s fucked up.

And it’s wrong, so, so wrong, when there’s a cross hanging behind you, when he’s your boss who claims to be a good catholic, when you do that because you’re too afraid to lose your job. But in that moment, the morality doesn’t exist.

Jimin stands up to take his belt off, looking at you from the above as he slowly, purposefully pulls it from the belt loops. He doesn’t encourage you or say anything, he just waits. You gulp when he yanks his black slacks down, along with his underwear.

For a few, solid seconds, you just stare.

You aren’t a connoisseur of dicks. Dick is a dick, but Park Jimin’s length is just as perfect as the rest of him, semi-hard against his lower stomach. Your hands move to his sculpted thighs, running up and down, tracing the prominent lines of his toned abdomen. The muscles tense underneath your touch.

You don’t remember when was the last time you’ve gone down on someone. Maybe it was Taehyung few months ago when you were both too drunk to care? You can’t quite recall. Every move of yours is uncertain, but Jimin doesn’t mind. Maybe your uncertainty turns him on even more.

He watches as you take him in your palm hesitantly, hot and already stiff, stroking him several times until he hardens in your hand. The sight is purely erotic, filthy, and you lick your lips before placing a light kiss on his tip. Jimin hisses. That’s a warning. No teasing.

You pump him, trailing a thumb over his slit, spreading precum all over his cock. Jimin doesn’t say anything but from the shuddering breath he lets out you assume he likes it. You take a deep breath, wrapping your lips around his dick and swirling your tongue around the head.

Jimin groans, a guttural sound resonating through his whole body and you take it as a sign to continue. You ease more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down around his length obediently. Some twisted and fucked-up part of you wants him to praise you, call you good girl with your lips around his dick and throbbing core. He does none of that. His hands tangle in your hair as he withdraws, and you know exactly what’s coming next.

It’s an unspoken question on his lips and your jaw falls slacks on command.

A forceful push of his hips and he’s burried deep inside your mouth till he hits the back of your throat. Tears brim in your eyes and you gag, breathing heavily through your nose. It hurts a little, a dull ache but the content sigh and fucked-out expression on Jimin’s face is worth it. So you let him fuck your mouth the way he wants, let him pull your hair harder, wreck you a little more. It’s so easy to submit to him, to let him overwhelm you in every sense possible.

Your eyes fall shut and Jimin stops his movements, pulling from your mouth. Drool dribbles down your chin and you wipe it with the back of your hand. Jimin lets out a shaky breath, staring down at you so intensely it makes your insides tighten, even if you don’t see him yet.

“Look at me,” he rasps and you do, how could you not. The sight of your boss’ flushed cheeks and sweat forming on his forehead will be imprinted in your mind forever.

You curse yourself for wanting him to fuck you senseless right against his deck, with a hand around your throat muffling your screams, fuck you so hard you won’t remember your name anymore, no matter how wrong it is.

“Good girl. You’re so pretty like this, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jimin nothing but purrs, filling you to the brim again, until there are tears forming in your eyes and running down your cheeks, until he hits the base of your throat again and again and you fight back choked gags every time. “Just like that, fuck-” he moans, lowly and beautifully, head thrown back and mouth parted.

He’s close, you could feel that, so you take him deep once again and when your throat tightens around him one last time, he lets out a gutural groan and comes. You swallow every drop of his bitter release and when he pulls out from your mouth, you nearly fall forward.

Jimin catches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, balancing your exhausted body. You look at him through your half-lidded eyes. He looks so young now, so innocent, his cold demeanor’s gone and replaced by pure bliss written on his face. For Park Jimin, cheeks rosy, disheveled hair and loosen tie, you would do it all over again.

He then does something unexpected. He reaches for your face, brushing your tangled hair away and placing the strands behind your ears. This is a loving gesture, something exclusive he definitely shouldn’t be doing. You’re frozen, you can’t move a muscle while he wipes your cheeks from the reminiscences of your tears. He trails his thumb over your swollen lips absentmindedly, faltering there. For a moment he looks like he might say something, but he quickly shuts his mouth, regaining his previous posture.

You take this as a sign to leave. You get up from the floor, your knees sore from the uncomfortable position you’ve been in. You walk to the mirror that hangs on the wall of Jimin’s office. You sigh, seeing your current state. There’s no way someone would believe you that you haven’t just sucked a dick.

Your cheeks are flushed in pink, there are smudges of mascara under your eyes and your lipstick is smeared in the corners of your mouth. Not to mention your hair is still a mess.

You are painted in all shades of wrong.

In the reflection of the mirror you see Jimin buckling up his belt and straightening his tie. He runs a hand through his blond locks and looks up, catching you staring at him. You quickly look away.

“Don’t worry. No one will notice anything. Everyone should be off for their lunchbreaks by now.” he says. He sounds so pathetically normal, yet there’s still a slight rasp in his voice.

You glance at the watch on your hand and check the time. It’s a little past 12. You brush your hair with your fingers quickly and proceed to leave, but you stop, remembering you have to ask about one last thing. You turn around to face him.

“Are you going to write a bad opinion about me to my future employees?” you ask, flinching at the hoarseness of your voice.

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Bad opinion? No, absolutely not,” he answers, shaking his head. “I was never going to fire you in first place.”

You fight back the shocked expression that threatens to appear on your face. You quickly rush to leave this damn office and never look in his eyes ever again. What were you even thinking?

“And Y/N,” Jimin’s voice makes you stop with your hand hovering over the door knob. Single tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp. “I’m sorry.” it’s all he says.

You don’t ask him what he meant by that. You don’t deliberate if he was sincere or not. You leave the office as soon as you can, running to the nearest bathroom, closing the door behind you and leaning on it.

He wasn’t going to fire you. He just wanted to use you, demand to get down on your knees and please him the way he wants. It was all a game for him, and you became his plaything.

“I’m so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, burying your head in your hands. “God, I’m so stupid.”

You feel sick, used, but at the same time you can’t get away with creeping feeling that you enjoyed it, wishing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him in that moment.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re probably foolish for thinking it won’t have any consequences. You’re just about to face them.

The coldness of early Spring hits you when you exit Sunday’s Spirit editorial. You hug your body tighter with your coat, standing in front of the building awkwardly. You take a few deep breaths, trying to clear your mind, but nothing really works. There’s a vacant space inside your body, like your soul has drifted away and left nothing but emptiness.

You feel hollow.

You don’t know how long have you been standing there, inhaling fresh air and waiting for your blood to start circulating properly in your veins again. When you’re about to head to the underground station, on the corner of your eye you see Jimin’s black Mercedes. You probably shouldn’t stare but you helplessly do.

Probably if you didn’t, it would hurt less.

He approaches the car, looking perfectly fine as always, which you couldn’t say about yourself. And he isn’t alone.

You recognize dark curls of Chins-sun’s hair, contrasting her beige coat beautifully. The corners of Jimin’s lips lift when he sees her. You don’t know if it’s a honest smile or a forced one. You wonder for a while how does he look like when he’s truly happy. Maybe he’s happy now, when Chin-sun is by his side.

What you are really sure about Park Jimin, is that he’s a man of many maybes.

Something which definitely doesn’t look forced are his palms, cupping the cheeks of Chin-sun’s flushed face. He starts tracing circles on her skin in intimate gesture and murmurs something. Maybe he asks her how was her day. Your lips still tingle where he trailed his thumb over it bitten, swollen surface. Maybe he still remembers how they felt around his cock when he was relentlessly bringing tears to your eyes and stabs to your heart.

The way he leans and kisses Chin-sun’s cherry colored lips is purposeful, perfectly measured. Maybe he sighs into her mouth with content, a beautiful sound you have witnessed with your own ears, as you were working him to his climax. Jimin’s hands grip Chin-sun’s dark locks but it isn’t the similar manner he did to you earlier, as he laced his fingers through the strands, when you wished him to do nothing more than pull harder and harder, until the pain in you scalp was replaced by dull ache, until a whimper fell from your lips and eyes squeezed shut. He kisses Chin-sun lovingly and there’s no roughness in that. It’s gentle caresses and soft murmurs.

After a moment he breaks off, soothing his palms over Chin-sun’s shoulders. She sends him a smile and opens the passenger’s door, getting into the car. And then, when you swallow a lump in your throat, when you decide to turn around and go, run as fast as you possibly can, when you dream about nothing more but never seeing him again, you catch eyes with him.

Jimin looks pathetically apologetic. There’s something in his dark brown orbs you can’t read. Maybe it’s guilt, maybe regret. Park Jimin is a man of many maybes, yet he stares at you with expression you could only mistaken for sadness.

You wonder if he sees the way your eyes stare at him blankly. You wonder if he knows how he nearly wrecked your body and made you feel things you shouldn’t. If he hurts the same way as you do now. However, Jimin quickly diverts his head away from you, closing the door to his car behind him as well. You laugh quietly at the ridiculousness of this situation. A bitter laugh that escapes your mouth and deepen the hollowness inside you.

A hand touches your arm and you don’t even flinch, knowing already who it is.

“So you know the news,” Taehyung says, looking at Jimin’s car leaving the parking lot. How long has he been standing behind you?

“What news?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Chin-sun is really going to be miss Park officially,” he replies. “Jimin proposed to her this weekend. The wedding is in may. But that’s not important right now. How’s your conversation with him, sweetheart?”

You feel sick. You excuse yourself, mentioning something about needing to catch earlier train and texting him later. Taehyung calls after you but you don’t listen. You start running.

You run until you couldn’t breathe, until there’s a soreness in your throat from the coldness of air. You run until you reach your apartment, stumbling into it on wobbly legs. Your back touches the wall and you slide off, sitting on the floor.

You don’t cry. The tears don’t strain your eyes. It’s only this damned, dull hollowness.

There’s written in the Bible that a guilty person is the one who broke God’s law, who committed a sin. The said person will be judged by their actions after their death. Because every human being has a conscience, the thing that sets the line between good and bad, so when we did something wrong, we should feel remorse.

When you sit on the floor and stare blankly in front of yourself, you know you have sinned.You both did. You wonder if he, trailing patterns of tender touches on his fiancee’s skin, feels the same as you. You wonder if guilt eats him up as much as devours you. Maybe there’s hollow ache in his chest, just like in yours. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything.

And may the God help you both find your redemption.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

The confession

You and your sisters stayed in France for two weeks for your father's funeral and for organizing his legacies. Your smallest sister Mia couldn’t come because your mother had not allowed her to fly to France alone. You tried everything, but since she was a minor, your hands were tied. In the beginning, you all just cried. Everything was so depressing and you couldn't believe that your father had died. You were still sad, but you are now indulging in wonderful memories. On the last day, when you were all still in France together, you decide to do what your father liked most. You rent an apartment on the Côte d'Azur, sit on the terrace with a glass of white wine and smoke a joint. He always did this when he needed to rest and distance and so you wanted to honor him before you would all go back. Meanwhile, Audrey and Victoria talked while you stared at your phone. "Are you going to watch our new music video then?" You wrote with Jaehyun, who just had today a comeback with his group. Even if he had a lot to do, he always tried to keep in touch with you. "Yeah, I'm so excited," you write back and smile. "Okay, I'll call you then later." Your face went red and your pulse rose. "So now I want to know..." You hear Victoria's voice suddenly grow loud and you look up from your phone in surprise. "What?" You were like in another world and your sister brought you back to reality. "That's a guy you're writing to." Victoria pointed to your phone and raised her eyebrows. You hadn't told your sisters about Jaehyun. It just wasn’t the right time before. "Hmm ... yeah ..." You grin but hesitate. That thing with Jaehyun was just so fresh and new. "I was wondering why you always go away while you on the phone." Audrey giggled and took a sip of her wine. "So, tell me something about him." Victoria took a breath from the joint and leaned back. "His name is Jaehyun and I met him at work. It was all complicated at the beginning. From the start, there was a tension between us, but he had a girlfriend. Long story short: He couldn't break up because she was blackmailing him, he had a way found her to be rid of, but now the thing between us is been going on for a while." You take a big sip of your wine and look at your sisters. "And what does he look like?" Audrey leaned forward and looked at you curiously. "His group's music video will be there in a few minutes, so I can show you."  "What? Is he famous?" Audrey's eyes suddenly grew wide and you knew she was curious. "Well, in Korea. He's in a K-pop group." You didn't know how much your sisters knew about it. But it didn't sound strange to Victoria. "My girlfriend really likes Kpop. I think she is a fan of Stray Kids and Red Velvet." Victoria smiled and tried to remember more. "Red Velvet is in the company I work with and wherever Jaehyun is. If you ever need a gift for her, give me a call." You smile and Victoria thought it was a perfect idea. "That means he's Korean?" Audrey kept asking and you knew she just wanted to know what he looked like. You nod and take the joint from Victoria. The next moment your phone vibrated again and Jaehyun sent the link to the music video. You blow the smoke out and set up your phone so that everyone could see the display. "The video just came online. I haven't seen it myself either." The video starts and you and your sisters watch the video. Audrey asked by each member if he was your new love, but you decide to tell them in the end. When you watched the music video, your heart started racing. You haven't seen Jaehyun in a long time and he looked so surreal in the video. When you see Jaehyun in the blazer with the deep V-neckline you get hot in secret places and you try to remember his touch. You never thought that you get horny from a video like this. You already miss Jaehyun the past few days and that made your craving for him worse. And when you see in the music video how Jaehyun went into the picture with his haunting look, you bite your lower lip and wonder how fast you can get to Korea. "Oh, I like the song." Audrey looked up with wide eyes and smiled. "And does you know now who Jaehyun is?" You wink and Audrey went through the video again. "He's your type. I know you like abs." She grinned and showed you Johnny. You smile and look at Victoria. She was relatively serious and when she picked up your phone she went through the video and stopped at the person where she thought it was him. You take it again and look at the display. "Wow yes. How did you know that?" Victoria had typed correctly and that surprised you. Or did she know you too well? "Girl, you always choose the same guy. He's Korean, but he's like Harvey in attitude." She looked at you seriously and she seems almost worried. "No, he's not like Harvey at all." You look at the video and watch Jaehyun again. He looked like the final boss in it, but he wasn't like that. "I don't know him, but the way he looks reminds me of Harvey." Victoria hated Harvey, the two of them couldn't get along. But you hope that she likes Jaehyun when she meets him. "Believe me, I was mistaken by that too. But that's just his stage personality, he has to play it. In reality, he is very loving, calm and gentle." You smile and Audrey was thrilled with it. "He looks good too. You must be a pretty couple." Audrey has always been more optimistic. You love Victoria, but Audrey was more of a friend. Victoria acted like she was the oldest sister and you hate it every time she does. But before you could say more, your phone vibrated again and you walked into the apartment because it was Jaehyun who appeared on the display. "And?" You hear his excited voice. "It's incredible. You look incredible. Are you real?" You hear a shallow laugh on the other line and you wish so much that you were with him at that moment. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I really like the song." "Yes, I listened to the song and the video with my sisters and Audrey is very enthusiastic." "And Victoria?" "She is skeptical, but she always is. You shouldn't take that personally." You sit down on the bed and look out of the window. You see the sea and wish to be here with it. "When will you arrive tomorrow?" His gentle voice tore you out of your thoughts and you try to remember the time. "Around 1pm. Can we see each other or are you too busy?" You knew that it will be busy after the release of the new song. "Yes, but I have to see you. I miss you ..." Your heart almost stopped when you heard the last words. "I miss you too ... really much." The words were difficult for you, but Jaehyun had already seen you from your most vulnerable side anyway. "I'm still at a music show tomorrow, but I could come to you afterward." You had to smile, but you also didn't want him to overwork. "Shouldn't I come to you? You have to be completely exhausted." You knew he had to go the next day. "No, it's not a problem. I just want to be alone with you." His words were so beneficial and you just wanted him more with you. "I'm looking forward to." "I can’t wait..."

When you were in Seoul again, it was strange to be back in your little apartment. It was as if everyone had changed, but somehow not. Sometimes it was strange that Seoul was such a fast-paced city. You could never get used to that, even if you had already lived in New York. But Seoul was still different.

When you were at home, you tried to distract yourself from your thoughts, not to think of your father and sisters, because otherwise, you would only cry more. But you still felt alone and the white walls suddenly looked so cold. You are thinking about hanging up a few pictures, maybe it would look more familiar. But since you often sleep by Jaehyun, you have been seldom here anyway. And you liked being with him, in his room, because you felt comfortable when everything smelled of him. When the bell rang in the late afternoon, you could hardly wait for the few seconds that Jaehyun was finally there. You had missed him so incredibly the past two weeks. It was a long time ago that you missed someone like that. And when the door opened and you looked into his soft face, you could only hear your increased pulse in your ears. "Hey." He took you in his arms after the door was closed and put his forehead on yours. His dark eyes looked deep into yours and when he smiled his dimples appeared. "Dimple boy." You giggled and poked his cheeks. "You are so childish sometimes." He laughed and pushed you against the wall. "Do you mind?" You wink and as you ask him the question, you feel his lips against your neck. He sucked on your shoulder and his hands moved across the sides of your torso. "No, it's a reason why I love you." At that moment his eyes widened and he realized what he had just said. He stopped caressing your body and stared at you in shock. "I'm sorry. Is it too early? I ... I ..." He started to stutter and you could see his insecurity. But you were kind of glad that he said this because it was easier for you to express your feelings. You take his face in your hand and kiss him for a moment. When you let go of him, you smile with joy. "I love you too." And when you said the words, you could see the relief on his face. "I'm sorry, it should be more romantic." He bowed his head and looked more disappointed with himself. "No, it's perfect. Come..." You take him by the hand and pull him into bed with you. And that evening it was finally said. It was finally official. Jaehyun and you were a couple and you felt that this was forever.

About us masterlist

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Back to you (Chapter VI)

Summary:  Y/N Stark and Peter Parker are unconditionally and irrevocably in love with each other, being friends for years was just the step before making it official. BUT, just the weekend they did, Thanos and the snap happened, leaving Y/N broken: without friends, avengers family or Peter Parker. So, she has to move on, at least that’s what everyone’s telling her and she really tries to do it and who better to help her than Harry Osborn. But, has she really let Peter go? What if Tony Stark -genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist- knows how to bring Peter back? And what happens when he does? Is Y/N going to avenge again? Who’s going to lead the avengers now? Who is she going to choose? Harry or Peter? and who the hell is mysterio? *He doesn’t even go here

word count: 10.5k

author’s note: May was a really hard month for me and with everything that’s happening in the world, I didn’t even know if I should be writing? It seemed so pointless. But here we are anyway, it helps my mental health and that’s why I was so late with this chapter. I was going to make it longer but I think we covered our foundation here. Anyway, please if you are in USA be careful with everything that’s happening and I’ve been seeing some resources on instagram. I’ll try to post more here or on insta

series masterlist

“A pleasure to see you, Stark” Nick Fury stated as you shook his hand with a stone face. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Nick Fury, Tony, and Steve trusted him and in consequence, you did as well -at least the majority of the time-. He was the one that had brought them together but also with the fall of SHIELD, it wasn’t like before. Either way, you knew he was going to be part of this and you complied because you needed all the support that you could find to get the avengers together again. 

“So, what’s this about?”, you asked as you turned back to see an old Steve sitting down in the conference room already. 

It had been two weeks since the funeral and the world was going back to normal again, clearly as best as anyone possibly could. For you, it had been a busy couple of weeks with your non-profit and trying to figure out how to decipher Tony’s USB. The days you spent at the office were chaotic while the nights you spend them at your lab restlessly trying to find what Tony had left for you. 

No one knew about the USB, it simply remained between Strange, you, and H.A.P.P.Y while you tested every possible combination to unlock it but your efforts have been in vain. Regarding your non-profit, relocating the children to their parents had been a rather a bitch of a process. The protocol that your volunteers had designed, which was overall great and easier, had been hijacked by the government that decided to intervene and just add more paperwork and more time; which annoyed you because kids wanted to be with their parents and this was just another way of keeping them apart. 

Thankfully, Pepper and Harry had been helping you deal with everything and tried to see a foreseeable future for the non-profit and their facilities on the east and west coast. The facilities were still useful for kids that were in foster care of the kids who had lost their parents regardless of the snap, therefore, Pepper had managed to snatch a meeting with the president to discuss a possible alliance to keep the facilities working with their help. 

Truth was that you felt better if the government gave you a hand, it had been a full-time work for you and now it didn’t seem possible to handle it all since you wanted to go to University. Stark Industries would permanently have a percentage; after the sale, it would be smaller than the one the government had but the non-profit would keep working and that was your main goal. 

It was the only reason you had to agree to meet with Fury at the moment because you knew that now you would have the time and it wasn’t difficult to foresee what he wanted from you. 

“You need to be the new head of the Avengers, Y/N”, Steve finally said with a stern look. 

It was hard to see Steve as an old man when you had spent the majority of your life seeing him as this strong, young superhero that could have the mannerisms of a really old person. It was fun to make jokes about it and everyone did it, sure, you had picture Steve just like this for a Halloween someday but now it was too real. In all honesty, you didn’t want to judge his decision but somehow it pained you that he hadn’t chosen to stay with you and help you in this transition. Yes, he was there but not like before and it felt like you had been left alone by the other most important person in your life. 

“What about Sam or Bucky?”, you asked. “They are older”

“They became fugitives after SHIELD crashed down”, Fury explained. “We need you”

You knew it. You knew that neither Bucky or Sam were approved by the government and it annoyed you to the core because Sam was the best option along with you but now it wasn’t possible thanks to a couple of white old men in suits that didn’t know how was it out there.

“I saw this coming”, you sighed as your eyes connected with Steve’s. “Isn’t it too soon?”

“The world is going to look up to you since your father saved the universe”, Fury answer, and you turned around to watch him walk silently. “It’s up to you to keep the Avengers alive”

You remained quiet for a few seconds. The guilt and the burden swinging over your head as the words of Fury stuck in your head while you watched him. 

It was up to you and although you had tried to escape it and have a little peace of mind the last few weeks it was an irreversible fact that you were in charge now, whether you liked it or not. Pepper had let you go back with her to the cabin and she had tried not to push it, but the talk was brought up either way.  

…

“You do know you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to”, Pepper said as she brought you your cup of tea while you sat in front of the fireplace. 

“Thank you”, you answer softly as you took the cup in your hands, warming them. “The way I see it, I don’t have many options now that Steve made his choice”

She sipped on her coffee as she watched you carefully. Her eyes gleaming with fear, you knew she didn’t want this for you and neither did Tony, that’s why they try to avoid it as much as they could but now you were at this crossroad. It was even harder now to accept this new burden considering how your father’s story had turned out. 

“I mean it, y/n”, Pepper insisted, her voice stern making you turned around completely to face her. “You don’t have to do this. Tony and I once hope that you would be the CEO of Stark Industries, that you could leave that life behind.”

“Pepper…”

“Y/N, I don’t know if you realize this but you are not Tony,” Pepper said, as she placed a hand over yours. “Your father, because of who he was didn’t have a choice, but you do.” 

You shook your head. 

“But I am like him”, you said quietly as you took Pepper’s hand into yours. “I can’t brush off his legacy and you know how much I wanted this since I was a kid”

“You also wanted to run Stark Industries like me”, Pepper said as she raised her brows. “But avenging, it can’t be your whole life”

“And I still want to”, you assured her. “I know it can’t and I don’t want to live as Nat or Steve did, I just don’t want to let dad down. I feel like everyone knows it’s on me”

Pepper remained quiet for a few moments and she sighed, she squeezed your hand as her gaze went to the fireplace in front of you. 

“You are not letting him down Y/N, you could never do that and I know what you mean because Tony felt somehow the same and that’s why he fought so hard”, Pepper replied quietly, she sucked in a breath as she turned around to watch you again and gave you a soft smile. “I’ll try to be okay with any decision you make, but I want you to still go to university as you had planned before, your life can’t be on hold anymore”

“You know I want to go; you don’t have to ask me that. I started sending my applications after what happened”, you said as you took a sip of your tea. “Thank you for understanding”

“I dealt with your dad for a long time, I know better”, Pepper said with a chuckled while you giggled. 

“You really think I can be like him?”, you asked. 

“Y/N, you don’t have to be like him. You have to find yourself and whatever makes you feel okay”, Pepper replied honestly. “If you believe you have to do this, you can do it kid”

“Thank you, mom” 

You knew you wanted this; you knew you had to do this because you wanted to make Tony proud. He had believed in you, Nat too, and know it was your chance to prove everyone that you were succeeding and that Tony’s legacy was still alive. 

… 

But now sitting in that conference room with Steve and Fury, you couldn’t help feeling as if you were suffocating while they watched you carefully waiting for an answer. Maybe the feeling would go away, you were just starting but what worried you is that the feeling didn’t stop. 

“Mrs. Stark?”, Fury’s voice woke you up from your thoughts and you blinked trying to get back into the conversation. 

“Sorry”, you muttered as you cleared your throat. “I get that we need the Avengers alive but we are only five. It’s less than what you guys,” you signaled Steve, “had when you started it.”

Nick Fury looked at you with a smile as he took out from his trench coat a couple of folders and threw them on the table, his only eye gleaming with satisfaction, as if he was proud, he already knew everything as if he hadn’t snapped and was still aware of everything that was happening. 

“We have some ideas for recruits”, he said smugly. 

You rolled your eyes and took a hold of some of the folders, your eyes followed the letters and the pictures on it and you couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear as you read the profiles of this people. It was becoming too real and although you were great at making things work you couldn’t help but feel responsible for them.  

But at the end of the day, they were exactly who you needed to make it work. 

You nodded your head and turned around to watch Steve. “Do you agree with all of them?”, you asked as you raised the folder with your hand. 

Steve remained quiet for a few seconds. “I think they have what it takes”

“Then we need to call them in”, you stated as you stood up, your heart thumping on your chest. 

It probably wasn’t a good idea for you, to have Peter at the meeting. But he had become an official Avenger when both of you decided to go to Titan with your dad and he was the most beloved hero of New York City -apart from you-, it was obvious that you needed his help to do this. 

But clearly, he wasn’t thrilled. 

You were walking through the hallways of Stark Tower; you had just finished a meeting with the volunteers of the facilities to thank them all for their help during this time and now you were late to the Avengers meeting. Honestly, the anxiety of the meeting hadn’t slowed down, the ache in your stomach got worse as time passed and you felt like your mind was somewhere else as you checked over and over again the points of the meeting. 

It wasn’t any news that when you were distracted enough you became a klutz. So, as you ran through the hallways of Stark Tower to get into the meeting in time, you unexpectedly collided with the brown-hair boy with chocolate eyes with specks of honey that made your heart stop. 

It wasn’t at all the meet-cute that it could’ve been. 

Peter, obviously with his super-strength didn’t even flinch as you fell forward on the floor as people gasped as they saw you there. It was as if you had wanted to run over him but he was a wall, so as you hit his back you were the one flying over. Papers everywhere, the screen of your iPhone probably cracked, a sharp pain on your shoulder and the ankle that Thanos had injured was throbbing a bit. 

“I-I’m sorry”, Peter managed to let out as he helped to collect the files that you were carrying along with your phone while you sat down on the floor wincing. 

“Don’t worry, I was the klutz”, you replied and it seemed that Peter froze as soon as he heard your voice. 

Maybe he hadn’t even noticed that it was you but the face when he realized it was you, it wasn’t pretty. 

Not even because of his hostile expression but he didn’t look well. He had bags under his eyes, the shadows made his usually big eyes become smaller, his brown curls weren’t styled as he liked but they were over the place and he seemed pale. It was as if he hadn’t sleep in…

“When was the last time you slept more than two hours?”, the question came out of nowhere and you wanted to hit yourself in the face because it wasn’t even appropriate. 

But you knew him, you knew how he sucked in everything around him. Peter’s sense had dialed to eleven since he was bitten by the radioactive spider and along with his anxiety thanks to the sense of responsibility he had after becoming Spider-man. You used to think that you overthink a lot of things but when you met Peter, you realized that it wasn’t half as bad. Sleeping together, your voice, your hands on his curls, your laugh, and holding your hand were things that helped him blow the anxiety away. Nonetheless, he couldn't do it anymore. 

Peter stayed quiet, examining you. You looked like heaven to him: rosy cheeks, your hair a bit messy but now more styled, the black turtle neck you were using looked elegant but casual by wearing your force 1 with them, he could tell that you were tired but the shadows under your eyes didn’t overshadow your y/e/c eyes, and those lips, you had just placed some Chapstick over them and he could tell. Peter decided right then and there that growing older suited you, you looked so good and he just wanted to kiss you right there and then. He wanted you to hold him and tell you that he hadn’t slept since you fought, he wanted to tell you that he missed you and that you two were meant for each other. 

But as much as he wanted to kiss you and tell you that he loved you, he didn’t do it, the angered and sadness clawing their way into his heart. 

The last few weeks had been confusing and tiring. He had returned to Midtown to all of your friends asking about you and while he didn’t say anything about Harry, he had to break down to them that you weren’t together and that you weren’t returning to Midtown either. 

…

“Do you mean she’s abandoning us!?”, Flash exclaimed dramatically as they all sat down in the lunch table while Peter only rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know what she’s doing but she’s going to be 21 in a couple of months”, Peter explained. “She’s not coming back to school”

“Well, we are leaving in a few months to college”, Betty intervened. “We just have to take the final exams again but this fall we are going with Y/N to college” 

“These are the most important ones!” Ned cried. “Where the memories are made!”

He was barely holding it together and Betty was just playing with his hair, in an attempt to calm him down while MJ remained quiet, as if she was trying to process what was going on. Peter had wished that you were the one who told them but he understood that they had questions and that you wanted to keep to yourself. It was usually the thing you did when you were feeling down, still, he couldn’t help to hate it at the moment. 

But as always, MJ came out with the logical response and wisest answer. 

“She’s not abandoning us Flash,” she snarled as she gave him a side glanced and then looked back at Peter. “She has grown and she just lost her dad. We don’t know what was like to live without us, so let’s just give her time and she’ll come back to us”

Peter rolled his eyes, not in an obvious way but enough for MJ to notice and see red. 

“And get over yourself Parker, yes, she broke up with you but we don’t know what her life has been like for two years!”, MJ grumbled. “You know how much we can change in even six months?”

“MJ it’s not about me and y/n as a couple but-”

“-as best friends”, Peter and Flash said at the same time. 

Flash looked back and forth between MJ and Peter while they looked at him bugged eyed. 

“Shut up, Flash. You just literally became part of the group”, MJ grumbled and she stood up from the table as she faced Peter. “Stop being butthurt with Y/N and give her time”, she said walking away. 

All of them remained quiet for a second.

“Are we going to do what MJ said?”, Flash asked quietly. 

“When do we ever do something that MJ doesn’t say”, Ned replied as he placed his hand on Betty’s shoulder. 

“What if it’s too much time?”, Flash asked once again. 

“We just have to wait, Flash, don’t worry”, Betty replied.

But Peter remained quiet as he looked away, zoning out. It was actually something Peter saw coming, he knew that MJ and you had become close before the snap, and MJ was a fierce and loyal friend while you were as well. It didn’t surprise him her reaction and he also knew she was right, but he couldn’t help but feel still angry over what had happened with you and at that point he didn’t know if he was even mad at you but at the fact that he snapped away and you didn’t. 

…

It had been a few weeks after MJ snapped at Peter, he thought maybe his anger would die down but as his eyes focused on you, it still hurt so much. At the moment, Peter could’ve said a lot of things but why? Did he wonder if you really cared about him? What were you possibly going to say that would make him feel better? Would telling you off make him feel better? Of course not, he would feel awful if he said anything bad to you. Therefore he didn’t answer. 

“Peter, please”, you pleaded as he helped you stood up by grabbing your hand. 

But he didn’t budge, he didn’t open his mouth. He simply walked past you towards the conference room and you turned around, with a bleak expression, seeing him walking away.

It hurt. 

You had heard that some people preferred someone yelling at them and telling them off rather than to have someone not saying absolutely anything. Honestly, you didn’t understand and it was maybe because Tony had always said what was bothering him, he never stayed silent and neither did Pepper, so you didn’t understand until now how hurtful it could be. You winced at the realization you had done it to others, it was your preferred mechanism to disappear and stay with yourself, it was easier for you since you liked being alone but now you realized it was even worst. 

Your phone buzzing took your eyes away from Peter before he made a right to make it to the conference room. 

“What now?”

The screen turned on, with a small crack over it, and you couldn’t help but smile as you saw the MIT email on it. 

We are pleased to inform you that you had been admitted to MIT undergrad programs of electrical engineering, physics, and business …

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you watched the screen. It was something that Tony had always wanted, he had a pull-on MIT and had wished that you were going to his alma mater, along with Peter. It was a bittersweet moment for you, one day you had picture yourself there with Peter and Tony picking you up on the weekends to New York to spend time with Pepper, training with Nat and Steve, visiting your friends. 

But everything had been erased and now you were here, being head of the avengers and already definitely late for your meeting. 

The race to the hallways was rather quickly and in no time you were in front of the conference room but before you opened the door you took a deep breath. 

The ache in your stomach didn’t budge one bit, your feet couldn’t stop tapping on the ground as you bit your inner cheek.  This was your first move as head of the Avengers and you needed to play the part;  Fake it till you make it, you thought to yourself as you fixed your hair as best as you could and straightened your outfit; taking a deep breath, you walked in. 

It seemed like one of those dreams when you watch yourself, from another place, like a scene of a movie. At least that was how you felt as you tried to catch in on all the people who turned around as soon as you walked in with determination and the poker face that Tony had once taught you, but it felt like you were gasping for air as you saw from the corner of your eye Fury glaring at you. 

“You are late”, Fury stated. 

“I’m running a multimillion-dollar non-profit and was in a meeting with a correspondent of the White House, and I’m going to run this show,” you stated as you walked next to him, in front of everyone present. “So no, I’m not late”

It was a bold move and you prayed internally that it worked as you had a stare-down with Nick Fury, which you couldn’t even picture in your wildest dreams, and although you knew it was a lie about the White House, it was a way to assert your leadership. 

“Let’s begin,” you said by dropping the folders on the table and turning around to face everyone.

If Ned could be right there and then, you knew he would’ve passed out. 

Peter was sitting at your right, a bit slouched but he was in, next to him Wanda was sitting down as she winked at you, Lila Barton was sat down next to her with Clint by her side. On the other side of the table, there was Steve, Bucky, and Sam -or how your dad liked to call them The Army Bros, Steve and his kids, Ménage a Trois, among others-, then Harley was next to them smirking at you, Cassie Lang was also with Scott who seemed a bit in awe with the view in front of him. 

It was exciting seeing them together in one room, you could see a team forming here; you just hoped that it didn’t have to happen with an alien invasion followed by a significant battle in New York. 

“You have been called here because The Avengers are not done”, Steve said sternly as he looked at all of them. He might have been over 100 years but the force on his voice and the sense of leadership in his eyes didn’t go away for a second. “We still need to have a future.” Steve gazed at you as he finished and you sucked in a breath. 

It was your cue. 

“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people, they did become something more and fought the battles that we couldn’t win”, you explained seriously, watching how Nick Fury turned around to see how you cited each one of the words he had said to your father. They had stuck with you all these years and you didn’t see why you shouldn’t bring them up now. “We need to be the next generation of that group, maintain the legacy, we have a responsibility with the world”.

Your eyes connected with everyone’s in the room, except for Peter who immediately looked away. 

“That’s the reason that we call you in”, Fury intervened as he walked towards you and Steve. “You have the abilities to save the world”. Everyone stayed silent as they watched him. “Y/N Stark or Iron hea-”, Fury began by dropping the first folder that contained your profile. 

“-don’t even say it, it’s just Stark”, you interrupted as you raised your hand for him to stop, Fury simple rolled his eye with a still stone-cold face drawn. 

“Spider-man”, he said looking at Peter, folder dropped. 

“Scarlett Witch”, Wanda sucked in a breath as the folder dropped in front of her. 

“Winter Soldier or White Wolf should I say?”, Fury asked. 

Bucky remained quiet as he gazed at the folder that Fury had thrown on him, clearly bigger than any of the others. He just sighed and nodded. 

“Falcon, the new Captain America”, Fury said and Sam smirked as he placed a hand over Steve’s shoulder while Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Iron lad”, Fury said gazing at Harvey who seemed like he wanted to pass out as he quickly took a hold of the folder and began reading it full speed. 

“Statue”, he said looking at Cass while Scott looked at him with panic. It was clear that he didn’t want Cassie there but by the way, Cassie was excitedly looking at the folder and what was written about her, it wasn’t his choice to make. 

“Finally, Kate Bishop”, Fury finished as he nodded at Clint who was sternly looking at you.  

Cassie quickly turned around to look at her, bug-eyed. “Thought that you were Lila Barton?”, she said confused. 

Before Clint or Lila could even respond, you interrupted them. 

“It’s Lila’s secret identity”, you explained with a smile. “No one can know she’s related to Clint. It can risk their cover and we don’t want anything happening to them”. 

“Thanks, Y/N”, Clint said with a tight smile. 

It was clear that you would’ve to talk with Clint and Scott soon and calm them down, they reminded you of your dad and well, Lila and Cassie reminded you of you at that age and how much you wanted to follow your father’s steps into becoming an actual hero. They wanted to be in it so badly that they went behind their parents back to make it happened and it was the same as you began to build your suit without Tony knowing it. 

Lila had talked with Fury at the funeral, she had sneak from Clint and Laura while Fury was having a word with Carol. She had explained to him that she was good with the bow and arrow, maybe even better than her dad; and most importantly, she had realized that she wanted to do something good if she knew how to do it. On the other part, Cassie had been begging Scott, Janet, Hope, and Hank to let her into the team, Cassie was smarter than Scott and in the few years that had passed, she was sure that she wanted to follow her dad’s steps after actually losing him. Although Hope and Scott didn’t agree on it, Hank and Janet had a soft spot for Cassie and had given her a suit, after a few trials they had realized she was really good. It didn’t take long for Fury to hear the word and contact them. It wasn’t a pretty discussion with Hank or Hope, but Janet and Scott more or less got where Cassie was coming from, finally convincing them it was a good option. 

Lila was fifteen while Cassie was fourteen, approximately a year younger before your first mission; it seemed like it was time to train them although a part of you wanted them to stay training for a little longer. 

“What about the other ones?”, Peter asked as he looked at Steve, drawing you back to the conversation. “T’Challa? Or Captain Marvel? Where’s Thor?”

You winced at his remark, it stung that he was unsure about this new plan and this new era. Did he wanted to be there? Steve had been the one calling him and knowing how much Peter respected Steve, you were sure he was going to say yes. But now that you were actually listening to him, at the dead tone he had, at the way he was avoiding you or even zoning out, you didn’t know if it was the best idea to have him on the team. 

But Peter wasn’t doubting you. He didn’t doubt you for a second, in his heart he knew that you were going to be a great leader, but as he gazed at you, it became too much. 

“They’ll come when they are needed but we need a response team, the foundations,” Steve said as he signaled the room. “You are that team” 

Peter nodded in response. Truth was that Peter felt proud that he had been called, he remembered like it was yesterday when Tony had officially made him an avenger. How you had jumped into his arms and planted a kiss on his lips as if you didn’t care that you were going to a new planet and facing the scariest villain that you had met, all that it mattered was how official this was. But that was it, it came back to the fact that he wanted to stand up with you and hold your hand and be your support but he couldn’t do it. 

“Anyway, newbies you are not official members yet”, you stated as you signaled to Cassie, Harley, and Lila. “But we need to start training you and we will begin next week”

“How much training?”, Harley asked concerned since you knew he was about to finish college this semester. 

“Don’t worry, we will start on the weekends. You’ll be flown here from Boston and San Francisco by one of our quinjets”, you explained. “Lila, you’ll come every two weeks since you train with Clint almost every day and there’s no better teacher for your specialty”

Lila nodded excitedly as she gazed back at Clint, who simply smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“We are going to train in the tower again?”, Peter asked as he looked at you, he was really looking at you, you gaped for a bit by the way his eyes were looking at you. 

“Ye-Yes… I-uhm- until the compound it’s -uhm- I already ordered to rebuild it”, you stumbled through your words as you tried to maintain the first eye-contact that Peter had given you. “It’s on my name now”

Peter nodded quietly and you smiled as a response but it didn’t last long as he quickly gazed back at Fury as he began to explain the regime that you were going to follow and how the group trainings were going to go, especially since Sam and Bucky had a special mission in Europe for the next month or two. Harley along with Cassie were the ones doing the most questions and most of the talking regarding the new initiative, Lila asked a few questions but it seemed like she was more familiar with the spy language that you were using. Wanda, Sam, and Bucky took on the role of mentors as they sometimes intervened and explained how things worked, along with you and Steve. Peter talked a few times as well, but he stayed quiet for most of the meeting, he knew the protocols and the plans so he didn’t have many questions. He was zoning out as he looked at you when you weren’t looking, god, he was trying to avoid it because it created a lump on his throat the more, he looked at you and knew that nothing was going to happen between you two again. 

So, when you lifted the meeting, he stood up as fast as he could and walked out of the room. 

“So, what’s up with him?”, Wanda asked as everyone began walking out of the room and you stayed alone picking up the papers and giving a nod to Fury as he told you that he was going to be in contact. 

Wanda was a big part of your life. She became like a sister after Ultron and although she was a couple of years older than you, it was a matter of time before you became best friends. The nights that you stayed at the compound and that Peter spent with Aunt May, became official girls’ nights between you two and sometimes Natasha (although she wasn’t a fan). You knew she was the first person that realized you had feelings for Peter and it was the first person you told about your first kiss after Scorpion attacked you. She also told you about Vision and you were there as she slowly let her guard down with him, at the end falling head over heels for him. 

Their relationship was sweet and authentic, neither of them was trying to be someone that they weren’t and they accepted each other with everything they came with. When you lost both of them to the snap, it somehow made you feel okay? That they weren’t living without the other because they seemed so meant to be together, Vision adored her. Nonetheless, when Wanda came back and Vision didn’t, you knew it was going to take a toll on her. Wanda had been staying in the tower since all of you came back, she hadn’t left her room and she hadn’t been herself as she tried to deal with the grief of losing Vision, Bucky had been overprotective of her the last few days of her and Bruce checked up on her every day, you also visited her as much as you could and you had heard that Peter had swing by a couple of times as well. This was the first day that you had seen her out of her room and you were beyond happy about seeing her like this. 

“I thought that he had told you when he came to visit”, you said as you turned around and wrap your arms around Wanda who hugged you back. 

Wanda and Peter were good friends, she saw him as a little brother and she messed around with him when she had the opportunity. They used to try to sneak up on him with Vision sometimes, but Peter’s spidey sense was too strong for them to win; at the end, Wanda resorted into levitating a few things when Peter wasn’t looking and it would annoy him before he would shot his web to the object that would be flying over his head with a red halo or in another place of the room. 

“He didn’t do much talking actually, he just listened”, Wanda explained as she let go of you. “So, what happened?”

In all honesty, you were somehow dreading this part of telling Wanda about Harry, you remember how happy she was when you told her about Peter and was all over your team even after older avengers were kind of apprehensive about it. 

You sighed as you leaned on the table. “You know Oscorp Industries?” 

“I don’t like where this is going”, Wanda bit her lip, wincing as she watched you carefully and you nodded in response. 

The memory of Peter’s eyes gleaming with tears as they fell from his cheeks while you spat out that you were with someone new hunted you. Your heart sank more and more was you thought about it, it was one of the worst things you had to do. 

“It’s not that I forgot about Peter, but I was just so lost and everyone was telling me to move on”, you shrugged as Wanda sat on one of the chairs next to you. 

It was true, you never forgot about the boy with chocolate eyes. It just happened that when you were getting better, Harry appeared in your life and just made it easier. It was easy and calming to be with him, he was everything you would want on a boyfriend. 

“I know the feeling”, Wanda mumbled and you felt guilty that you were talking about your love life when Wanda’s significant other had passed away. “So, what’s he like?”

You huffed as you tried to find words to describe Harry. “He’s gorgeous to look at, he is kind and humble. I just like to be around him”. 

Wanda eyed you suspiciously for a few moments and it scared you because you knew how good she was at reading you and knowing your feelings. It scared you that she might tell you that you were making the wrong decision. 

“But he’s no Peter”, Wanda stated as she looked at you intently. 

No, there was no way that Harry would compare to Peter. And it was unfair to do it because they were too different, the only thing linking them together was that they cared about you. 

“No”, you answered honestly as you closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to find the right words to fight Wanda’s gaze. “He isn’t but I do care about him, a lot. You can’t understand how much he has help-.”

“-do you love him?”, Wanda interrupted and you became stiff as she mentioned love. 

It wasn’t that the fact that neither Harry or you had said it, he knew how delicate that was for you and the fact that you had only told Peter that you loved him had maybe restrained Harry to actually mumbled it out. But on your part, you knew how your heart felt warm when you saw him and how you automatically smiled, he made you laugh and made you feel okay; still, you hadn’t said it. 

“I think I do”, you answered honestly. 

Wanda rolled her eyes as she stood from the chair and splayed her hands on the table, a straight-face as she eyed you again, as if she was in an interrogatory, “It’s a yes or no answer Y/N”. 

And you felt the pressure like she had meant you to feel it. “Wanda, stop”, you felt your cheeks growing warmer and even maybe a headache as you looked right back at her, but you knew better than to avoid her questions and you finally answered, “I can’t give you one”. 

Wanda finally looked away as she passed a hand through her hair. “So, what are your feelings for Peter then?” Wanda sighed. 

“I love him”, you stated without any doubt on your voice, making her shoot a look at you of confusion. 

What’s it weird to say that you love your ex-boyfriend but doubt that you loved your current one? Maybe, you thought as you hopped off the table. 

“If you are so sure then why don’t you go back to him?”, Wanda asked, annoyance lingering onto her voice. 

You smirked as you watched her because it was too obvious who she was going to choose, “Oh, I see you are Team Peter on this”

She gave you a light smile back. “You know I love Peter but Y/N…”, her lips pressed for a second as she tried to fix her words, “I remember when you told me about Peter for the first time and there was something inside you that you couldn’t control”, she said as she walked closer to you, “It was as if this bright feeling was filling you, everything inside you shined.” 

And you remembered it, you remembered how you felt golden when you were with Peter. How your heart fluttered on your chest as his lips pressed against your body and then against your lips. How his hands would always seek your body and how on the nights you would spend together, you would fall asleep to the beating of his heart. 

“I’m not disputing that,” you stated curtly, as you recollected all the folders with a little more speed than you would. “but I have Harry too and he helped me during the time I lost everything and we just get along so well. It would be unfair for me to simply toss him after Peter came back”

Wanda’s gaze was burning your back and you could tell she was swallowing somethings just to get off your back because she noticed you were getting riled up. 

“I understand,” she finally said as you sighed and looked back at her. “But if you want this team to work, Peter and you have to keep being the best friends that you have always been”

At that very moment, Peter was thinking about the same thing. 

Was it even worth trying to work for this new team out if you weren’t on talking terms? No, it wasn’t. You were his partner and he was yours, even if years had passed for you and you were with someone new, nothing could change the fact that together you guys worked. Together you worked better than anyone in the team, Peter even believed that you guys were more connected than Nat and Steve at some point before the snap. It was the actual true, Peter knew your every move and you knew him; most importantly, you would do whatever was needed to keep the other one safe. 

But how?

“How what?”, a voice snapped Peter out of his thoughts realizing he had said it out loud. His eyes followed the husky voice, recognizing that the elevator at Stark’s tower had been emptied while he had been thinking about you. 

His eyes found this boy, should he even say boy? No, he was a man. Peter was sure that he could be confused with a model, his almond eyes were green-ish or grey-ish, he couldn’t tell and were accompanied by a sharp jaw with well-groomed facial hair. He passed a hand through his dark hair and Peter realized how tall he was. 

“I…”, Peter mumbled as he rose a brow. “It’s nothing, uhm- which floor are we?” 

The guy simply nodded and smiled simply at Peter. “We are arriving at the penthouse, right now.”

Before the doors opened, F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice could be heard in all the elevator. 

“Hello, Harry”, the AI said smoothly. “And welcome back Peter, Mrs. Potts wanted to see you”

Peter blinked in surprise; he felt his body stiffened as he heard the name. It wasn’t that Peter had been stalking you or trying to find who you were dating. Just casually some days prior, Peter had recruited Ned to find out and without a doubt, Ned worked faster than the FBI. 

…

“There are no photos?” Peter mewled as he walked through the walls of his room while Ned was furiously typing on his computer.

Peter wasn’t per se proud of how fixated he was on it, but he just wanted to know who had been the guy that you had actually opened your heart to that wasn’t him. You weren’t too much into relationships since he met you, you were focused on avenging and school; relationships other than your close friendships, and later, Peter’s were the things occupying your mind. 

You had gone out on a couple of dates with both boys and girls before Peter, but nothing more than a friendly chat or maybe a kiss happened between you and them. Peter tried not to be jealous but the relentless flirting did annoy him, and sometimes he let shades of it through. 

You noticed it, so when the girls would come by to talk to you at lunch and play with your hair while Peter watched, you tried to be as nonchalant as you could. With boys, you simply and politely most of the time (if they weren’t being an asshole) asked them to get lost or refused their advances. And always after the fact, Peter would be in an unusually high good mood. 

So, now with Harry, he was clearly on a mission. 

“No man, apparently his father wanted him out of the spotlight,” Ned replied as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Not that this Norman Osborn appears on many things. Remember that I had to do a presentation about him? There was barely any information”

Peter huffed. “Well, then what did you found?”

Ned glared at him as he began typing again, his fingers moving faster than Peter’s eyes. “Well, he is a billionaire and a philanthropist, he had projects in Latin America and Africa on bioengineer which he’s pretty good at”

Peter rolled his eyes, he knew how much you cared about doing your part in the world, you understood your privileges and tried to do something good about it. You didn’t like to be a girl with daddy’s credit card, there was nothing more annoying to you than when people assumed you were vapid and frivolous because of who your father was. 

“Perfect, what else do we know about Mr. perfect?”, Peter snarled as he began descending from the walls and sat next to Ned. 

Ned opened various tabs on the computer that seemed like it was going to burst with information at any point. “He has won several awards about bioengineering and as an activist. His mother was from China but he lived a few years in Malaysia as well, he went to a snobbish school and speaks English, Malay, Mandarin, French, and Spanish”

Peter’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull. “Can he be any more perfect?”, he whined and stayed silent for a few moments. “Is there any information about him and Y/N?”

Ned eyed Peter for a second, contemplating him in silence. “Do you want me to tell you that?”

Peter’s eyes connected with Ned’s, he was so tired of crying every night but it was almost impossible for him to stop. When he closed his eyes, he could only see you, you were a trigger for him. 

“No, let’s leave it alone for the day”

…

“Aren’t you going come in?”, Harry asked slowly and Peter simply nodded as he followed him to the large living room. 

Peter’s mind was running as if he had sipped four coffees without any milk, his jaw tightened as he watched Harry comfortably sitting on the grey sofa where once Tony had sat Peter to tell him stories about his fights, to explained him new plans, to finally confront him and you about your ongoing relationship that you had kept a secret for almost six months. 

He felt himself growing hot and his anxiety flew out of the charts. Peter, who seemed so innocent in his jeans, white shirt and black hoodie began thinking about the many ways he wanted to toss Harry out of the apartment without a second thought. 

Maybe you were his trigger, seeing you in that black dress was telling him that you were with someone else was his trigger but now Harry had become his new one. Now he could only picture you with Harry; Harry who looked like a model and was also a genius, Harry who had been there for you when Peter wasn’t and eventually took his place, maybe Harry was everything that Peter wasn’t. 

Peter only realized how worked up he was getting when he began to shake, his eyes widened as he looked at how his hands had formed into a fist and now were red thanks to all the pressure. He cleared his throat as he placed his hands on the pockets of his jeans and started walking away from the living room, maybe he could go to his old room in the tower although if he was being honest he wanted nothing more than to go to your room where he stayed most of the nights years prior.  

He remembered how you would open your window for him, especially designed for him to swing through swiftly. He remembered the nights where he would just crash your lips against yours and you would hum in response as both of you fell into your bed. He remembered also the early moments of your friendship, how you would go back to the penthouse excited after Tony had let you tried a new piece of tech, or maybe one of your works had worked. He remembered your laugh most of all, bouncing off the large walls and windows, how it would warm him up. 

But then Harry’s voice stopped him, “Woah, Woah”. Peter snapped around to see the tall boy walking towards him, “You can’t go anywhere big guy. Mrs. Potts doesn’t like it when not close people walk around”

Now it was a fact, Peter wanted to rip Harry apart. 

“I don’t need permission from Pepper to be here”, Peter retorted. He was a little bit glad that he was on a first-name basis with Pepper and Harry still weren’t, pried filled his chest as he looked at Harry staring blankly at him. 

It lasted a few second, Peter watch how Harry was examining his face and his stand. Then his eyes opened like plates and he gaped at Peter.

“Wait”, Harry muttered. “Are you-”

“-Peter Parker”, Peter stated as he glared at him. 

Was he being a little bit too standoff-ish? Yes, but at the moment he didn’t care, because it was his territory. He had been living in that penthouse for three years before the snap, he was basically family to the Stark’s and not even Harry could take that away from him. 

“I-Uhm- It’s nice to meet you”, Harry muttered as he offered Peter his hand. 

Peter looked down at it, somehow doubting Harry’s move but at the end of the day he knew nothing good would come up if he wasn’t polite. Hell, Peter was even polite to villains, although Harry had become his one. 

“It’s nice to meet you too”, Peter replied as he shook his hand, firmly. 

Harry pressed his lips into a tight smiled as he nodded. “Y/N, she talked about you, a lot.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Harry had forgotten to even ask about Peter after the snap and since you never brought it up, it never crossed his mind that the love of your life was back. You had talked about Peter a few times, most of them ended in tears from your part and Harry had seen your social media was filled with pictures of Peter Parker, as well as the penthouse where Tony had photos of the three of you and all the other avengers. He knew how much Peter meant for you and now, although Harry wasn’t one that got nervous, he felt a shiver of panic running through his back as Peter let go of his hand.

“She talked about you; you were -uhm- are extremely especial for her”, Harry muttered.

Peter stared up at Harry, jarring silence filling the room as his heart rate increased. Harry’s eyes were blank and Peter felt stiff and uncomfortable, but another part of him felt a slight jolt of joy as Harry had mentioned how special he was for you and by how Harry was acting. Peter wanted to take the small charm that had the Iron-Spider-suit and jump from the window, maybe even swing from building to building while screaming of joy. You had talked about him, to the point that it seemed to make Harry uncomfortable. 

“Yeah…”, Peter said simply as he gave a step back. “I’m going to leave now…”

Before could even turn around completely, he bumped into Pepper. 

Pepper had this thing about her, she could be serious to the point of scary but she could also be the sweetest woman on earth. Pepper had become an important mother figure to Peter, and she got extremely well with May (who at first wasn’t a fan of Tony) to the point they would have a few talks over the more humanitarian side that Stark’s Industries needed or any new project that had Pepper busy. Moreover, Pepper was always there for both Peter and you, after every mission or school project, she had managed to make time for the both of you, which was impressive being CEO of SI. Peter was sure that Pepper knew he had feelings for you since he first arrived, she would give him these looks and he was sure that they had talked about it with May. 

When you finally told both Tony and Pepper, she was there to help Tony get more relaxed about your decisions and she was the one that gave Peter permission to sleep on your bed when Tony didn’t feel very comfortable, she would keep him off your room for the time that you guys were together. 

So, when Peter saw Pepper again (since he hadn’t really spoken to her at the funeral) he felt his heart clenching on his chest, the ache didn’t go away as she watched her. He hadn’t said anything to Pepper since Tony had died, anything. He hadn’t acknowledged the women who acted as a mother to him, how much she must be suffering from Tony’s death, and now your sudden role as leader of the Avengers. 

“I have been leaving messages, Peter”, Pepper said sternly, pulling her blonde straight hair behind her ears and he was sure he winced at her voice. 

“I’m -I …”, Peter stumbled through his words as he tried to phrase how sorry he actually was. “I’m sorry Pepper”, he finally said. 

She stared at him; a blank gaze was drawn but after a few seconds her features soften as she looked at the shy chocolate eyed boy. 

“It’s okay”, Pepper muttered giving him a light smile as she patted him on the shoulder and pulled him in for a small hug, which was short-lived as Pepper quickly turned to see Harry awkwardly standing there. “Harry, I’ll take Peter away but you can wait for her in the living room”

Peter watched Harry carefully who seemed dumbfounded at their recent interactions but as soon as Pepper talked to him he straightened himself and cleared his throat, giving her a charming smile. 

“That would be perfect”, he replied with a nod, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before he turned around and walked to the couch again. 

Peter felt like a masochist as his eyes followed Harry, analyzing the way that he walked and wondered how you two actually looked like but Pepper didn’t give him much on an opportunity to ponder on his suffering from you. Quickly, walking away and telling Peter to follow her which forced Peter to remove his eyes from Harry who was taking a seat of the large living room again. 

“So, how have you been?”, Pepper said as soon as they got enough distance from the living room, the only sound on the hallway was the clicking of her heels. 

Peter smiled tightly at Pepper; he was not okay but he didn’t want to have any sort of conversation with Pepper where he would be the one to feel bad for himself. Not when Pepper had lost Tony. 

“I’m okay”, Peter lied.

Pepper contemplate him as she wrinkled her nose, “Well, you don’t look okay, Peter. Have you been sleeping?”, she replied as they got to her office. 

Peter wanted to answer and assured her that he had been sleeping and feeling well, happy to be back and grateful with Tony who had died for him to be there. But nothing came out, he simply shut his mouth and nodded.

“Yes, that was what I imagined”, Pepper chuckled as she opened the door. “Come in, I have to introduce you to someone”, Pepper said. 

Peter stood there for a few moments when Pepper moved, she could see the tiny human that was laying down in fairly modern and beautiful playpen. The toddler wiped her head around as soon as she heard Pepper and Peter and he felt like crying when her big-doe-brown eyes locked with Peter’s. 

Peter had not paid much attention to Morgan at the funeral, he was thinking only about you. He guessed that he would meet her eventually after you talked but it never happened. Nonetheless, he could tell that the little child was the spitting image of Tony Stark, Peter could tell that she was going to be smart beyond her years just like you and Tony and that she would have both of your wits and humor. 

“So, you want to meet your goddaughter?”, Pepper muttered as she looked sweetly at Peter.

Peter’s eyes opened like plates.

“Am -I am her godfather?”, Peter stuttered as he entered the large office and walked towards baby Morgan who watched him intently. 

“Yes, Tony wanted you to be the godfather and so did y/n”, Pepper answered and Peter felt her heart-warming, not even looking at Peter quickly kneeled to say hi to Morgan.

Peter didn’t know Morgan, he was afraid she was a little apprehensive because of how rapid he had kneeled and offered his hand to her. 

“Hi baby Stark”, Peter whispered at Morgan, who quickly responded with a wide toothy smile and she giggled. 

Opening her arms, she signaled for him to grab her from her playpen, and Peter followed suit at her request with a smile. She was as light as a feather to Peter, almost lighter and he easily placed her on one hand as she took a hold of his face and began examining him closely while Pepper watched wistfully. 

“Peter!”, Morgan suddenly blabbered and Peter was stunned, he wiped his head quickly to Pepper who laughed at his reaction while Peter chuckled too. 

“How -uhm?” Peter began but was cut off by Pepper. 

“Tony told her stories about you, so did y/n”, Pepper explained as she walked towards the large white sofa in her office and patted the space next to her for Peter to sit down. “Y/N wanted her to know who you were, so for the night stories she would often tell her about you and her.”

Peter felt his heart on his throat as he heard Pepper’s words. Every word that came out of her mouth was exactly what Peter wanted to hear, he was holding on to any hope for you and him, although deep down he knew he had to respect your choice, whether he liked it or not. 

 “I know that you are not okay Peter”, Pepper sighed, a woeful expression drawn on her face. “I’m so sorry you had to find it this way and everything that happened”

Peter nodded, trying to hold on to whatever sense of stability he had on him but it was useless as his eyes locked with Pepper, who had seen him both at his best and his worst. Peter sank on the couch as he placed baby Morgan on his chest who kept playing with his features, he felt like he had exhausted all his tears the last few weeks. 

“It’s just… everything hurts when I think about Y/N”, he whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought that… I just can’t deal with her choice”

“It was not entirely Y/N decision”, Pepper quickly said as her hand quickly ghosted his arm. She looked down biting her lip, Peter could see she was unsure of what she was going to say. “But you can’t understand how broken she was without you.”

Peter sniffle causing Morgan to stop playing with his features and watching him carefully, finally turning away from him to face Pepper. 

“Mommy, what happened?”, Morgan’s tiny voice made Peter’s heart skip a beat. She was so smart already and he let a genuine smile out. 

Pepper smiled too as she picked Morgan from Peter. “Uncle Peter is a bit sad, that’s all”, she explained, and then her eyes returned to Peter’s. “The first six months after the snap she just… she shut down Peter. We didn’t see her and nothing could get her out of that bed. We were so worried about her for months, we didn’t even know if she was going to make it. ”

“What?”

Peter had seen you after the fact, he had heard you when you said that you didn’t forget him and how Harry expressed how important he was for you, but he never expected you to be so lost without him. Peter always believed you were the stronger one on the relationship you had, he was the one following you like a puppy since he first met you and from then on, his feelings just grew to a point that when he finally kissed you and told you his feelings, he was sure his heart was going to explode. He had harbored his feelings for so long, he struggled to maintain them in a line when they were finally out. But you, you were so elegant and delicate with your feelings for Peter. He knew you loved him but being trained by spies from an early age may be helped you conceal your feelings longer or because of your personality, you seemed to be the master of limits. Peter never picture that you would fall apart so badly without him. 

“I’m not going to tell you that you aren’t allowed to feel that way”, Pepper continued, clearly shuddering at the memories of you at the time. “But I just want to say that you should forgive her because this world wouldn’t be right if you two aren’t together, at least as friends and partners”.

Peter stayed silent for a few seconds. It felt like the poisonous anger and the debilitating sadness that had overcome his body the last few weeks were being dissipated by Pepper’s words. The common anxiousness that overwhelmed Peter was neutralized by a second as he quite literally felt like he could face all his emotions, trying to immerse in processing the new information. He realized that you may not have done what he would do, he realized that being angry about the fact that he had snapped and you didn’t wouldn’t help anybody, he realized that not talking to you was being more hurtful for both of you. He realized that if he claimed to love you so much, he would be there unconditionally and he felt ashamed he hadn’t. 

Peter nodded, finally embracing every feeling he had and confronting himself. 

“I under-”, were the only words that Peter managed to get out of his mouth before the hairs in his arms quickly stood-up, he could feel the goosebumps erupting in his whole body as his head snapped at the windows that reached both the ceiling and the floor. 

He stood up without a word as Pepper watched bug-eyed, holding Morgan a little bit tighter. 

“Whats happe-”

Screamed began coming from the streets, they filled the room, and then a roar shook the city.

---

TAGLIST: @erindanus​ @spideylovin​ @zlamaneserca​ @bethanystan​ @cedricisnotonfire​ @eridanuswave​ @babebenhardy​ @lyzalovealk​

[cryptocism]

ive been scrolling through ur blog for a while (cuz ur dc opinions are Top Fucking Notch) and i saw what you said abt bart in tt 03 and f:fma and while i totally agree (it killed tt 03 for me lol) im super curious abt how youd do his development if given the opportunity?

I’ve been thinking about this one like A Lot so buckle up this is long: 

it would kind of depend? On whether or not he’d be in an ensemble team like Teen Titans or with his own solo series. 

I understand metatextually why he became Kid Flash in TT, since they needed him to be more mature and a more recognizable character and having him upgrade costumes/codenames is a good shortcut for both. But I’ve already talked about why it didn’t sit right with me. 

So, lets flip the script a little bit - the start of TT would be largely the same. Our boy Bart is on the new Titans team, and things are kind of awkward after YJ disbanded, also Max is gone and Bart’s relationship with Wally is still not doing great. Things are rough, Bart has newfound doubts to deal with, especially now that the world seems to have gotten harsher and everyone seems to have a lot less patience to deal with him. The pressure to be more mature and a recognizable character is coming from other characters now rather than an authorial need: he’s reminded to take things seriously, or that he should know better by now, that he needs to slow down and think more. So Bart decides a change is necessary, and we get the library scene. He reads all the books, he reappears as Kid Flash, saves Tim via bullet catch, disassembles a gun, takes down Slade, etc. etc. Here’s my departure from canon though: it doesn’t work. 

Kid Flash is not a solution, or a magical cure for immaturity. Reading a whole library so he’s miraculously smarter and more mature and capable is, at its core, a pretty naive conclusion. And it makes sense he would think that. But it doesn’t work. He’s still impulsive, distractible, hasty. He can’t put a lid on his own sense of humor. People still think he’s annoying or lazy or careless. And he keeps trying - he knows all this stuff now, he read a whole library! - but he’s still apparently too much the same person as he's always been. And even though he’s trying very hard to live up to the Kid Flash name, it still doesn’t feel like him. Wally doesn’t like it, since Bart is literally just imitating him now, which makes things between the two even worse. And Bart keeps worrying about what’s supposed to come afterwards, since “Kid Flash” is inherently temporary, and while Impulse was only peripherally related to the flash legacy, Kid Flash comes with expectations. 

Bart is trying very very hard to be ‘grown up’ and ‘mature’, but he hasn’t actually learned anything other than a bunch of facts (which are still useful, but) he’s just trying to be who everyone expects him to be. 

And this is what i mean about the ensemble thing, because this arc would be in conversation with the rest of the core four, who are also trying very hard to be people they’re not, but all in different ways. Bart obviously with the codename change, but Cassie, Tim, and Kon all have similar issues, they’re all trying to imitate people. 

Tim is doing his Batman jr. routine, reverting back to the persona he had at the start of YJ. He’s cagey and mysterious and does questionable things without telling anybody, because he’s de-facto leader of the team again, and he has to be better than he is. No more kid stuff, the Titans are serious, he has to treat it like a job, not like a sleepover. And this whole act is putting distance between him and his friends. 

Cassie is trying her hardest to put herself in a support role. Donna’s gone and she has some big shoes to fill (she and Tim could probably bond about that if he weren’t stubbornly trying to brood at all hours of the day) and she’s doing her best to just Be Donna. Cassie and Tim would work better with their team roles swapped, and they both sort of know this - Cassie is naturally charismatic, thinks on her feet, can maintain good PR, and when she’s confident in herself is great at leading. Tim is partial to planning ahead, secrets, and keeping in the shadows, and is better at being a confidant and emotional problem solver among the team (when he allows himself to be open among friends, that is). 

But they’re both trying to fit themselves into what they see as pre-ordained roles: Robin is leader, Wondergirl is a supportive mediator. But Cassie’s got a temper and little patience for people being idiots, and Tim’s not predisposed to spotlights. 

Kon on the other hand has a story that’s less about who he should be and more who he shouldn’t be. The Lex Luthor dad storyline is here (minus the mind control shit, although the threat of it is still brought up) and Kon is doing his level best to do nothing that could be interpreted as something Lex might do. While everyone is doing their best to Not be their own person, Kon has no idea if he ever was his own person. He’s questioning everything he does, wondering if it’s some kind of evil gene showing through when he’s angry or petty or selfish. He’s going through lots of clone angst. 

So they’re all dealing with expectations and who they are or aren’t supposed to be, trying to fit themselves into boxes that don’t suit them and then convincing themselves that this is how it ought to be. Kon ought to avoid feeling or acting in any negative light because any sign of Luthor is a sign of evil, Cassie ought to tone herself down and act like Donna, Tim ought to step up and lead the team and act like Dick, and Bart ought to listen better and be smarter and slow down and grow up and do his level best to just Be Wally. 

Throughout the issues they’d all get a spotlight on their various crises, taking them through complimenting character arcs. Kon would realize through a couple close encounters and chats with ma and pa and talks with his friends and citizens of metropolis that nobody is all good or all bad. Clark can be a real asshole sometimes and Luthor’s actually done a fair bit of good (usually in his own interests, but still we’re gunning for nuance). Turns out he doesn’t have a dark side to be tempted by, he was made from 50% complex person and 50% complex person, just like everyone else. Which means he isn’t destined to be the next Superman, or Superman’s next supervillain. He’s just like, a person. With his own thoughts and feelings that have nothing to do with genetics. 

Tim would wear himself out and hide it from everybody until he killed himself, but it’s only when he sees Cassie also wearing herself out too that his ‘somebody needs somebody’ instincts kick in and they’re actually able to talk about how miserable they both are. Through some trial and error they’re able to figure out a good co-leader system for leading the team, having each other’s backs along the way, which allows for them both being able to help out the other members of their team with their own shit i.e. Kon and Bart’s identity issues. 

Bart is, like Cassie and Tim, wearing himself out trying to be this perfect version of Wally that never actually existed. He actually hates the recognition the new name gives him, because people have expectations for him now, ones he can never seem to live up to. He’s bad at following orders still, which makes him a pretty shit sidekick for Wally, in fact he’s just pretty shit at being a sidekick in general. But, he reasons, he’s supposed to be grown up and responsible now, and responsibility is all about doing shit you hate until you die, so he’s probably on the right track. 

It’s only later, once he gets some support from his friends, who help him deal with things like Max and YJ disbanding and stuff that he’s able to actually sit down and have a heart-to-heart with Wally. Wally confesses that he understands the pressure to live up to a legacy, and how he did his best to just Be Barry when he became the flash. In fact while Bart was trying to live up to Wally and be a good sidekick, Wally was trying to live up to Barry and be a good mentor. Wally’s the one to tell him that Bart’s always done his own thing, and is at his best when he does. They both agree they suck as partners, but maybe they should’ve tried to be family first. And there’s probably a racing metaphor in there somewhere because speedsters love their racing metaphors. 

ANyway Bart returns to Impulse, forging a new path, getting along better with Wally now and hanging out with him just as civilians with no pretense. He learns some valuable lessons about how maturity can’t be learned in a book, and that he’ll get it himself the more he lives and learns from experience. The Titans all get along better now that they’re all sure of their places in the group, and they can all go on just being themselves without worrying about expectations or roles to fill or whatever. 

...If Bart still had his solo series instead though, id actually want it to go in a sort of different direction? The thing about living up to predecessors and trying to be some ideal version of another person works well for the Titans because they can all deal with a similar issue in different ways, but I think it would also be interesting to do the complete opposite. 

Lots of shitty things happened in very quick succession in Bart’s life that he had no control over: Max’s disappearance, having to move in with Jay and Joan (who are nice, but whom he barely knows,) leaving his friends in Alabama, Young Justice breaking up… Basically, things kind of suck for Bart, and all he wants is for them to go back to the way they were. Instead of trying to be grown up or mature or whatever, Bart is resisting every single encroaching thing about coming adulthood. Because all growing up ever seems to mean is that everything changes and either you have to leave the people you love or they have to leave you. 

So this series would focus mostly on that, both in his civilian life; going into high school, not knowing anybody, the few friends he does make are less interested in ‘kid stuff’ and more focused on dating and interpersonal drama, high school itself seems to be geared entirely toward the “what are you going to do with your life” question, when he visits his old friends back in manchester, they’ve all kind of grown up without him. And in hero life; everyone from Young Justice is trying to move on and not talking to each other, his father figure and mentor is gone and he's not really jiving well with the rest of the flash family, and people just seem to have less patience for Impulse now that he’s older. 

Growing up is hard. It’s hard and no one understands. Especially not when you’re also a superhero and have dealt with some quality trauma like losing loved ones and feeling yourself die. So it makes sense that Bart would resist that in every way possible, do his best to pretend like everything is still how it used to be, for once in his life just trying to make everything stay put. He refuses to get rid of his old stuff, he doesn’t want to treat any villainous threats seriously, people in school keep talking about college and jobs and tuition fees and Bart wants none of that, he acts out, refuses responsibility, gets reckless under the pretense that he never used to have to be cautious. 

And this is the part where I’d bring in Inertia, cause Thad was robbed and I want him to have an actual arc that doesn’t end with infant-splosion. Also he can have a good ol companion arc to Bart. Welcome to foils everybody, where two identical boys with opposing life experiences get to thematically compare and contrast with each other as they deal with the trials and tribulations of growing up. 

So, I’m ignoring every appearance Thad ever made after Impulse 1995, picking up instead where his story left off where he swore vengeance on his creators and disappeared into the speed force. And he’s off to do exactly what he said; Thad Thawne II is going to kill his namesake/grandfather/creator - the president of Earthgov. 

But, turns out assassinating the president of a whole fucking planet is a lot harder than he thought - Thad has planned extensively for every moment of his life, so once he starts going off script things predictably go a little off the fuckin rails. Thad fails, obviously. For one because despite how much President Thawne might deserve to die, Thad at this point hasn’t done anything worse than attempted murder, and making him a killer would put a wrench in any kind of redemption arc he could have. Also he’s acting on rage, in a highly emotional state, basically going up against the entire government. Of course he’s going to get caught by the science police and brought into custody. 

Bart, meanwhile is jumping with both feet into any kind of escapism he can find, which involves various time travel shenanigans and lands him in the 30th century. He gets to reunite however briefly with his mom, but the mission he had gets derailed by the appearance of Inertia. 

Every time Bart and President Thawne interact, the president always seems to make a bid to sway Bart to the Thawne side. This never works, which is part of the reason Inertia exists in the first place; a version of Bart that the president could control. When Inertia landed in the 30th century, hell bent on assassinating his creator, the President subdued him and eventually coerced him back over to the Thawne side of the family feud. No longer a rogue agent, Inertia is back to his old self, all about destroying Bart and the rest of the Allens. 

They have a battle, taking place all over the 30th century city, and Bart does his best but Inertia has the entire Earthgov police force on his side, and Bart eventually gets captured. He gets taken to some kind of holding facility, meets with the President who monologues as him while Inertia stands beside him like a good lackey. Then suddenly the speed-inhibiting cuffs or whatever Inertia had put on Bart to stop his speed malfunctions, and Inertia drops the act, now Impulse and Inertia working together to take down the Earthgov people holding them there. 

Turns out as soon as Inertia knew he couldn’t take out the president, what with all the military force President Thawne had on his side, he bided his time until he could. He uses Bart’s help to finally get President Thawne cornered, and the assassination plan is back on track. Except now Bart is the thing stopping him. He makes the argument about how murder bad. Heroes don’t kill, etc. Inertia insists he isn’t a hero. But Bart reminds him that that’s not how Max saw him. 

Inertia hesitates just enough that President Thawne is able to get away, and now the two of them have to make an escape attempt back to the past. Bart insists on trying to take Meloni with them, and they try but ultimately fail somehow (maybe someone has to stay behind to make sure they can make the trip safely, idk. At first Thad is willing to stay behind, since there’s nothing really for him in the past. But Meloni knows that President Thawne would destroy him if he did, and she can’t let harm come to either of her sons - and she does consider Thad her son, just like Bart. She’s had far too little time with either of them, but she loves them all the same. She tells them to take care of each other, and is the first to encourage them to be like, actual brothers.) 

After yet another tearful goodbye, Bart swearing he’ll find a way for them to all be together again, Bart and Thad go back. And they do end up having to lean on each other, because shit’s tough for the both of them. Thad initially wants to apologize and possibly reunite with Max and Helen, and then finds out Max is gone. And Bart has someone who understands exactly what he’s going through. 

Things get a little more lighthearted from here. Bart and Thad don’t get along well at first, since they’re both going through rough times and lots of changes and their first instincts are to lash out at each other. But eventually they form a sort of camaraderie through shared grief, then shared fish-out-of-water experiences. Which evolves into shared inside jokes and video games and comic books and they become slow but steady friends. 

They upgrade into brothers when Bart defends Thad against the repeated (and not entirely undeserved) suspicion he receives from the rest of the Flash family. Jay and Joan take him in, but it’s clear they don’t trust him, and neither does Wally. Bart stands up for Thad, arguing that he’s as much of a Thawne as Thad is, and treating Thad like he’s the next Cobalt Blue is just going to ensure that history never changes and stupid family feuds are forever. After this, Thad starts trusting Bart a little more, and kind of solves Bart’s problems regarding encroaching adulthood with his friendship. Neither of them really had a childhood, and Thad hasn’t experienced 21st century life at all, much less the societal expectations to grow up. So Bart gets to have fun again, and Thad won't judge any of his games or his books or his attitude or interests for being childish or lame because he’s fascinated by the experience of anything regardless of the target audience. 

And from there it's a series about these two becoming brothers and growing up and the different lessons they learn and wacky characters they meet along the way. Thad ironically also puts Bart in a position where he has to take on more responsibility, since even though Thad can imitate heroic actions and is actually pretty good at it, he doesn’t understand what makes them heroic. Bart has to draw on a lot of the things Max taught him and now has to teach them to Thad. 

There’s crossover comics with Superboy, where Bart laments about having to deal with grown up stuff, and Kon gives him a new perspective on the whole “being young forever” thing, since that was a reality Kon actually had to deal with and it sucked. 

Through various misadventures they meet new and familiar characters to give them different perspectives on the whole passage of time thing. Villains who despise children or childish things, villains who embrace it but probably too much. People who talk about growing up as the worst time of their lives, others talking about it like it was the best. Kids and adults alike trying to force Bart and Thad to act a certain way while treating them another. 

The two of them come to opposing conclusions about this; Thad wants to embrace change completely, partly because he wants to experience firsthand all that life has to offer, but also his worldview depends on believing that anyone can change, and anyone can be better, because he has to believe he can be redeemed for all the shitty stuff he did. Bart, on the other hand, knows his life isn’t perfect but thinks, based on recent events, that it’s all just going to get worse from here, and so resists change as much as possible. 

Thad, in his haste to experience everything, sometimes ends up going too far, either burning both of them out, or pushing them into situations that they’re not ready for or are ill-equipped to handle. Bart, on the other hand is so resistant to change or responsibility that he stops them from doing actual necessary things like planning their futures or doing chores or making new friends. This acts as the crux for their main conflict that slowly builds throughout the series, and then in a finale to the arc, they both figure out a way to get Meloni back to the past, and to raise some stakes they have a falling out in the middle of the mission about it. 

Bart accuses Thad of trying to leave him behind, or trying to be the better version of him again, and that old insecurity about Thad replacing him crops up. Thad thinks Bart just can’t handle anything outside his personal bubble and wants to force him to live in the real world. Plus he also feels kind of abandoned by Bart, who often would leave Thad to do the scary adult things on his own. 

Tensions still high, there's suddenly an external threat to deal with - probably president thawne and the science police - and they attempt to continue arguing even while fighting the president. I’m making this up as I go so lets say yada yada big climactic moment it's looking like the two might fail to get Meloni back and they’re both still angry with each other and Bart just… can’t take it anymore. 

He keeps losing people, and the ones he keeps he always seems to screw up with. And at the end of the day he’s just a kid who wants his mom. Is that really so much to ask? So there’s a reversal, a parallel, if you will, of the assassination attempt from the beginning of the series, this time with Bart. Or, because I don’t think many people would buy that Bart would actually ever for real kill someone, maybe he’s finally about to get his mom back, but she doesn’t want to go (since she made that deal with the president that he wouldn’t harm anyone of the Allen family so long as she stayed with him) so he’s trying to force her, risking the lives/well-being of the entire Allen bloodline across all of time. 

This time it’s Thad who has to talk him down, who has to remind him about being a hero, who has to remind him that trying to go back to some magical time in the past where things were better is just going to stop him from learning and growing as a person, and that doing anything and everything possible to get there is just going to lead to Bart doing something he Actually Can’t walk back from. 

Alright but here’s the thing because having Bart be forced to leave his mom again for like the billionth time is tired and overdone, and personally the whole message about heroics involving extreme and damaging amounts of sacrifice can only go so far. So here; Thad and Bart are both right. 

Like on the one hand, yeah, it’s childish and selfish for Bart to want to be with his mom at the expense of literally everyone else in his family. On the other hand, the fact that they can’t be together because some asshole is upholding a stupid grudge is bad and unfair and wrong. The issue needing to be fixed is not the kid who wants his mom, it’s the jackass keeping them apart (and who also wants to kill/imprison people). So Bart convinces Thad that they have to save Meloni, and Thad convinces Bart that there has to be another way - one where they get their mom back and the Allens don’t have to be hunted. 

The whole story would be leading up to the two of them coming to this conclusion; the healthy middle between the two extremes. Where they have the maturity to plan ahead and sort through their differences and figure out the best course of action with the least amount of collateral, but they don’t let go of that adolescent need for justice and fairness - that thing that makes you dig in your heels and say “no. That’s not fair, that’s not right.” 

SO here’s where I’d put the title card: “Bartholomew and Thaddeus Take Down The Government”. How do they do it? No idea! I’m flyin by the seat of my pants here! Do they run for office? Do they publicize the president’s crimes in such a way he gotta go to jail? Do they somehow turn public opinion against him enough to get him out of office? idk!!! And I don’t remember enough about Earthgov’s political situation to put an accurate read on what exactly they might do to disrupt it. 

Either way they don’t kill him, manage to free their mom, and they all go back to the past together. And a new arc would involve the three of them getting settled in the past; Meloni would be a main character now, and hers is a two-pronged fish out of water story where she’s trying to figure out how shit works in the past, with overtones of the struggles of being a single parent. 

And... I’m not going to say any more about that because this is long enough already oof. 

TL;DR I think a coming of age story would be cool for Bart, and having to deal with growing up when he never really had a childhood. Also the comic itself would be aimed at younger audiences, who can probably relate to having a Bad Time in the Teens and wacky hijinks with friends and siblings.

[cosmictrust]

back to you II

sweet pea x fem!reader ♀

warnings: none! :)

you and sweet pea have been dating, but sweet pea isn’t quite over his ex.

one of the many things sweet pea loved about you was that you were, when pissed, a stone cold bitch. it’s what made you perfect for the serpents; and him. you were generous, protective. when threatened, a ruthless, cut throat snake. 

sweet pea hated to be on the receiving end of it when you sometimes argued. but now? being apart? it was stressful and annoying. 

any trace of your affection or hate for him seemed totally wiped. like nothing had ever happened, or ever will. you didn’t avoid him; you didn’t go after him.  

the silence between the two of you was devastating. 

sweet pea felt like he was heartbroken, and you’d moved on in a matter of minutes. it made him burn with jealousy and anger. 

 sweet pea was leaning against the locker next to jughead’s, arms crossed. he closely watched as you laughed with toni 

about something, putting your textbooks away. jughead slammed his locker shut, startling sweets. 

“you alright?” came the question that everyone seemed to ask. sweet pea glares at jughead in a silent response. he holds up his hands defensively, eyebrows raising. 

“leave it, jones. and don’t tell your north side friends, either.” pea snaps, looking back to where you and toni were now leaving, her arm thrown around your shoulders. 

you were great at putting on a front. the night pea left, you shoved all of your emotions back under the surface, hoping you’d drown them. but each time you felt sweets looking, each time your eyes met, you put the cool, neutral face on while all

of the untameable emotions bubbled back up. it hurt; but you’re sure it will all be fine in time. maybe you won’t care anymore soon. 

*

it’s friday night, and as always, you’re at the wyrm. chatting with any of the serpents. not moping around, crying over sweet pea. doing the opposite, in fact. you suppose that it’s good and healthy for you; at least that’s what toni and fangs are trying to convince sweet pea of right now. 

he’d been in his trailer, snuggled under thick blankets when fangs came. he’d attempted so many times to get sweet pea out of his funk. maybe it was too soon, but he wanted things to get back to normal. and very soon. 

so, he got out the big guns.

toni topaz had an almost suspicious excellence of convincing people to do anything; fangs could put his life on it.  so, he’d called her over. 

about twenty minutes into their coaxing, he’d finally broken. not without double the amount of complaining, though. 

so, here sweet pea was, reshaping a pool cue in the back corner of the dim bar. while deeply invested in a pool tournament, his eyes skimmed over the booths for any potential takers for the game. his shoulders tensed as he spots you and jughead, speaking over a few fries. 

he likes it when your hair is down, carelessly thrown over your serpent jacket, nicely framing such a pretty face. it's so classically you. 

it distracts his aching heart for a moment, before he’s yanked out of his daydream by his opponents ball clacking into a pocket. 

sweet pea loses the match, unable to keep his focus on anything but you. he’s anxious, hands the stick to whoever’s next, immediately striding to grab a seat at the bar to get a better look at you. 

“smooth!” fangs’ voice approaches from behind him, patting sweets’ shoulder. 

“oh, fuck off.” sweet pea groans, finally tearing his eyes from you. 

“no man, i get it,” fangs sighs, shaking his head. “it’s y/n.” 

“what does that mean?” 

“you know, pea. she’s perfect. legacy, loyal, young,” he shrugs, glancing over to you like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “a great friend.” 

“so, i fucked up bad, is what you’re saying?” 

“yeah, pretty much.” fangs laughs, knowing he was dead serious underneath. 

“i don’t even know what i did,”sweet pea sighs in frustration. “how do i fix it if i don’t know what i did?”

“it’s not my place to tell you,” fangs shakes his head. “prove to her how much you love her. that she means more to you; she’ll come around,” fangs exhales, eyes flickering up to meet sweet pea’s. “you know, she’s real good at doing that thing with her feelings.” 

“huh?” sweets furrows his eyebrows, confusion laced through his voice. 

“jesus, you’re more clueless than i thought!” fangs lets out a breathy laugh, throwing his hands in the air. “you’ve been moping all this time because you think she isn’t heart broken? she’s obviously not okay, pea.” 

“debatable.” 

“man, in order for this to work, you gotta get your head out of your ass.”

sweet pea narrows his eyes, groaning. 

“do whatever you feel is right, SP. she’ll listen.” he raises his eyebrows and gives sweets a supportive pat.

“i don’t even remember that dream i apparently had about josie..” sweets bottom lip sticks out as he pouts. “it’s not fair.” 

“yeah, well, it hurt her, all the same. and you were an asshole that night at the bar.”  fangs who’s that sweet pea wasn’t completely lucid during either situations, but he supposed pea had to remember the night at the wyrm. 

“i don’t deserve her.” sweets mutters, putting his head in his hands. 

“maybe not,” fangs replies honestly. “so does that mean you’re gonna stop your miserable attempt to get her back?” 

“no,” he looks at fangs, glaring at him. “what, were you waiting on her?” pea crossed his arms as fangs laughs and looks over at you briefly. he knows sweet pea is just irritated, but fangs will always see you like a younger sister. 

“just make it up to her.” was fangs’ parting advice, ruffling pea’s hair as he walked back to the pool table. 

shit. no better time than now, right? 

he turns around in his bar stool, glancing back to you and jughead, laughing and talking. 

getting up to swiftly waltz over to the booth, his hands shake. it isn’t until he gets right up to your table that the two of you notice him. 

“sweet pea.” you acknowledged, curiosity laced through your tone. your face void of emotion. 

“what’s up?” jones looks up at pea, raising his eyebrows. 

“i just wanted to talk to y/n.” sweet pea almost stutters, gaze locked on jones. jughead uncomfortably stands up, noticing the shift between the couple as you quickly protest. 

“no, please,” you scoff, emptily staring at sweet pea. “jughead, stay. it’s just three serpents having a conversation.” 

better than nothing, right? 

you slide over a bunch, so your left shoulder is tightly pressed to the wall. patting the seat next to you, sweets sighs. 

when he sits, there’s a good foot between the two of you, and he hates it. jug’s eyes are glued to the floor, caught in the lover’s quarrel.  

“i don’t care if jughead is here,” sweet pea finally looks at you. “we’re gonna talk about it.” 

“what do you want from me? closure? my blessing to try and win back josie?” you roll your eyes, picking up a fry and eating it. 

“you know i don’t want her.” sweets defends himself. 

“why were you begging for her in your sleep, then?” your voice raises, losing the nonchalant attitude. 

“i don’t remember, jesus! that’s how minor it was. i thought about you, first thing in the morning, i swear.” 

“you are such a fucking liar and i’m sick of it.” if looks could kill, sweet pea would be dead a long time ago. 

“i’m not a liar, i could never lie to you. i love you.” 

“stop saying that! it’s not gonna give you a free pass to win me!” tears begin to well in his baby’s eyes, and he reaches for your hand on instinct. 

she doesn’t pull away. his heart beats faster. 

“uhm,” jughead glances between the two of you. “i’m just gonna g-“ 

“no, jughead,” her tone final and icy, she finally breaks her stare down with pea. “what should i do? never talk to sweet pea again?” her eyebrows raised, sweets eyes widen. a tear falls down onto her left cheek.

“i’m not qualified for this.” jug counters, hands raised defensively. 

“no, tell me. he yelled at me for helping him, dreams about her while i fixed him up, and he strung me along our entire relationship. so how’s that sound?” she knows it’s incredibly immature to drag someone through this. however, she wanted the release of the pain, even if it’s in the tiniest way possible. 

“uh, he loves you?” jughead glances between your fiery gaze and sweet pea’s desperate one. 

“baby, y/n, listen to me. promise me you won’t say anything, i just wanna tell you everything.” his free hand slid up to her knee while his other still held her warm, welcoming hand. 

“why should i give you the chance to explain?” she asks, tears unshed glittering in her eyes. 

“you don’t have to. but i’m begging you, baby, just give me a chance.” 

she deeply exhales, looking over to jughead before she would get too emotional. 

“go.” she barks, watching jughead nod and scramble to leave the two of them alone. 

“baby girl,” sweets sucks in a breath, getting her to face him. “the first month we started dating, i did try to use you to get rid of josie,” he bites his bottom lip as her grip becomes tighter on his hand. “but immediately after, i realized i didn’t need that. you made me so happy so easily, and it scared me. i’ve never had this dependence on someone. i just needed you. so bad. and being apart from you for this long is killing me. i miss your laugh and your kisses, and i wanna be enough for you. you’re so good to me, angel. i understand what i did. i’m so sorry,” rolling his lips into his mouth to suppress a cry, sweet pea continues. “tell me what to do to fix it. please.” 

you study his face for a moment, speechless as you feel a lump in your throat. 

“oh, sweets,” you say softly, careful so your voice wouldn’t crack. “i forgive you.” 

the dumbest, widest smile comes onto pea’s face, heart melting, hearing his pet name fall from your lips. you reach and hug him, his face tucked safely into your neck as he tightly wraps his arms around you. you reach up and hug him back, gently carding your fingers through his hair. it relaxes him to no end, your body finally pressed against his.

“i love you.” he mumbles into your neck. 

“i love you, too.” sweets smiles as you return his affection, and pulls away a bit to look at your pretty face. 

“so can we start over? be mine again?” pea asks hopefully, brushing back a piece of hair from your damp cheeks. 

“pea.. no.” 

confusion and hurt pounds in his chest. 

he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“sweets, i let you explain. i forgive you, i’m just not ready to forget about it.” you frown, hand finding his and gently squeezing. 

“oh. okay.” sweets looks down, cheeks turning a dark red. “what can i do?” 

“we’ll start slow so i can learn to trust you again. just friends.” you say, cupping sweet’s cheek, making him look up at you. 

“just friends,” he repeats, nodding. “can i kiss you?” 

“just this once, but friends don’t kiss.” you counter, a small teasing smile on your face. 

sweet pea presses his lips to yours, passionate and mellow. he deepens it, gently tugging your hair back so he can kiss along your jawline. you let out a squeak in surprise, body missing his touch. as he moves down, he bites and licks at the column of your throat briefly. you can't bring yourself to make him stop.

he pulls away and brushes a thumb over your new hickey, a cheeky smile on his face. 

“just one last one, ‘cause i’ll have to wait for a while.” he laughs, and you playfully slap his hand away. 

“very classy.” you agree, rolling your eyes. 

“i missed you,” he hugs you again, trying his hardest to not cover you in kisses. “but i’ll wait. forever, if you want me to. you come first.” he finishes, kissing your forehead. 

he could be patient.

tagged: @heda-mikaelson

[gffa]

Name ten favourite characters from ten different things (books, tv, film, etc.) then tag ten people

Tagged by @thewillowbends.  These lists are always hard, but that’s kind of the fun of them!  And that’s why we cheat and sometimes have lots of ties because no you can’t make me choose. 1.  Thor from Marvel’s Cinematic Universe - I am a sucker for a character who has their shit together but can still be human and face ridiculously traumatic experiences and come through them whole because they had a rock solid foundation to begin with.  From being thrown out of Asgard, made mortal, and taking that chance to suck it up and make himself better that he did that himself to the loss of pretty much his entire family and most of his people and his sense of purpose, the thing I love about Thor is that he keeps getting back up.  That kind of fortitude is even more appealing that the ridiculously hot lightning powers. 2.  Tsukino Usagi from Sailor Moon - I always loved her in the ‘90s anime, but reading the manga skyrocketted her into this special untouchable place in my heart.  The beginning of her journey is a girl who is so fragile that she would kill herself if she didn’t have the emotional support around her, who had to take step after step forward to find her inner strength, who wasn’t weak or terrible for her fragility, but instead her story was worth telling for it, that the point she started out as was just as valuable as the place she ended up, where she could be the one to stand up to save her friends and get them back herself, that journey was worth telling.  I LOVE HER TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH. 3.  Thranduil and Maedhros from Tolkien’s Legendarium - It was really hard to choose, because I love a lot of the characters (and I feel badly leaving Thingol and Maglor off the list and I will fight a bitch for Galadriel and Elrond and listen Glorfindel is pure joy and also the internet is too mean to Elwing and I kind of want alllll the Melkor and Manwe fic because sobs they’re brothers shut up you can’t make me not have feelings about that, but also trashbag Melkor/Sauron and--) but those are the two I usually wind up wanting to know their pov in a fic I’m reading or have them around when shit’s going down because I want to see what they’ll do or I just miss them the most when they’re not there. 4.  Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi from Star Wars - If you asked me to pick between them, I don’t know that I could.  Yeah, sure, I love Obi-Wan ridiculously, but if you give me five minutes, I’m pretty much always going to drift back to talking about Anakin and his issues instead.  I’m not sure I can even boil them down into a nutshell about why I like them so much, they’re the kind of characters that I love so intensely and with such big, sweeping thoughts, that I’d have to write a whole essay.  But my best attempt:  Anakin’s being both dumbass and genius at the same time, being charming and magnetic while also being a bag of garbage at the same time, who had such good in him but was also an absolute monster, who I desperately want to be happy, but I also struggle to forgive him sometimes and that’s saying a lot for a fictional character, he’s brilliant enough to truly carry an entire Saga about him.  And Obi-Wan is the bedrock of all goodness in that galaxy, he could be obnoxious at times and he didn’t always see Anakin clearly, but he always cared and he remained good and hopeful, he continued to serve the galaxy, no matter what it threw at him, and even forgave Anakin in the end, because he always rose above.  That’s it, that’s my shit right there. 5.  Inoue Orihime from Bleach - ORIHIME WAS MY GIRL FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, her unwavering kindness and care, her desire to be soft in a world (and, frankly, fandom) that wanted her to be hard and to fight everything, when she didn’t want to fight, she wanted to heal, she wanted to have fun and be weird, she wanted everyone to be happy, all of that made me love her.  Her loopiness is an absolute delight, but what I loved so much about her is that Orihime had the powers/abilities to be quite possibly the most OG of the entire cast, she could reject reality itself, and she never once wanted to use it to beat anyone up or to destroy anything, she wanted to make friends with her fairies and she wanted to help people.  That girl refused to let the world make her anything less than kind and caring and sweet.  She was THE BEST. 6.  Hara Akiha and Umeda Hokuto from Hanazakari no Kimitachi e/Hana-Kimi - Sometimes we all fall in love with those minor characters and they just fucking consume us.  A lot of it came from that they were both hot, they were both hilarious, and so they were just really fun, but what really got me was that I genuinely loved everything Nakajo did with Umeda’s character.  There weren’t a lot of gay characters in shoujo manga that weren’t complete comedic relief, where their sexuality was the joke.  Yes, Umeda was often a humorous character (all of the cast was) but he firmly was completely uninterested in high school kids, he liked adult men, and his advice to Mizuki may have been crabby as hell, but it was genuine and good.  His sexuality wasn’t the punchline of his character.  Then there was Akiha, who was also comedic, but his bisexuality (another rare thing to find in manga!) had nothing to do with the humor of his character, all of it was in the way he chased after Umeda.  He was a genuine suitor (and, reading the post-manga character interviews, apparently they got together, OMG MY HEART) and the kiss they shared was treated just as seriously as any straight kiss would have been.  That meant a lot to me, even though I’d have loved the characters just because they were so interesting and Umeda’s struggle to get over the guy who never cared for him and to let himself be vulnerable with someone that he could actually care about, was so great. 7.  Yuki Eiri from Gravitation - I can’t begrudge anyone for giving this show a lot of shit (and I definitely am going with anime!Yuki here, rather than manga!Yuki) or dismissing it as being god-awful, because it probably was pretty cringeworthy.  But Yuki got under my skin because he was one of the first characters I resonated with where his depression was real and it was ugly.  He could be cruel to people around him, he pushed them away, not just half-heartedly, but genuinely, and he couldn’t stand being vulnerable, because it touched on all the terrible places that had been damaged by what Kitazawa had done to him.  And he couldn’t just be magically fixed by Tohma’s devotion or Shuuichi’s unwavering amounts of love poured into him.  He couldn’t just be fixed with a hug or one good crying session.  He was damaged and it was going to be a hell of a long hike back up to anything even a little bit normal.  Especially back at that time, I felt like depression and trauma were never given any real weight, then along comes this ridiculous BL series that just refused to make Yuki anything less that genuinely damaged and it hit all these places in wee me that was struggling through my own depression that couldn’t just be cured with some hugs and people telling me they loved me.

8.  Hashiba Touma from Yoroiden Samurai Troopers - I’m not sure I could even say why this character got under my skin the way he did, other than that there was definitely a group of us who were SUPER into the show and it was fun to make a playground for ourselves, and Touma just really got to me.  The brilliant character who didn’t always know how to relate to others, but who cared very deeply about them, who gravitated to those who were better at social interaction than he was, who were better able to connect to people than he was, that he found this group where he really belonged, that just really touched wee me’s heart. 9.  Tendou Souji from Kamen Rider Kabuto - THIS OBNOXIOUS HOT MESS I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.  It was hard not to put Kagami on the list as well, because so much of what I love about Tendou is illustrated through his relationship with Kagami (whom I also love on his own), but I think I keep coming back to that I love his issues the most.  He’s the best at everything and so it puts distance between him and everyone else, all the more so because he’s so obnoxious about it and doesn’t slow down for anyone else to catch up, but the thing is that there’s a very caring heart underneath all that.  He loves his sisters, he loves Kagami, he even kind of tolerates the rest of their weird gang, and trying to find that difficult line of his superiority over the others versus that he wants them to catch up to him in his own way, all while being the most condescending dick ever, is absolute joy. 10.  Relena Darlian from Gundam Wing - I had a difficult path to liking Relena, because so much of fandom boiled her down to either being a creepy stalker who got in the way of Heero/Duo or they only ever wrote her in romantic pairing stuff with Heero, neither of which really encouraged me to like her.  But, as time went on and I rewatched the series a couple of times, I realized there’s so much more to her.  She’s a character who has to walk an impossible line between both of the legacies that weigh on her, the birth family that she never knew but maybe she could help bring peace to the world by taking up that name, by trying to bring back the Sanq Kingdom that promoted absolute pacifism and peace.  Yet, ultimately, for all that her relationship with Zechs is really important and she was the heir to that kingdom, she chose to be Relena Darlian.  She choose to try to bring peace to the world by standing up on her own as a politician, not a figurehead queen of the world.  The struggle to figure that out, who she wants to be and how she wants to achieve it, to go from a sheltered young girl at the start of the series to someone who has seen how terrible war is, is far more interesting than either of those first options for me! And I’ll tag @forcearama (and if I couldn’t put Obi-Wan as all ten entries, neither can you!) @belldreams @subskywalker @cacchieressa @bpdanakins @glompcat @writegowrite @fireflyfish @evaceratops @amarielah and anyone else who wants to do it that I’m not sure I feel quite like I’m able to try peer pressuring you into it.  ♥  I love seeing these from anyone who wants to do them, I’m just never sure if I’m allowed to go HEY YOU DO THIS THING.  orz

[despressolattes]

AFTERMATH | LEGACIES | ONE

I stared at the window on the drive to Atlanta. Hope was in the passenger seat, and Alaric was driving. Caroline was off recruiting for the school, just as we were right now. Though, Caroline has been gone a while. She and I became close over the past two years, but I was still a student at this school before anything else.

She had offered me a teaching job, history in particular, but I didn't want to. I wanted to actually be a teenager for once, not someone who was kidnapped by their aunt. Not someone who was chasing after their father for almost a millennia, not someone who was watching her family from afar, and definitely not someone who was going by an alias just so she can be around her own family.

That wasn't who I wanted to be. As long as Hope was still a student, I wanted to experience modern teenage years with her, my best friend and cousin.

I thought about my boyfriend, thinking that I was really blessed to have had got to keep him the past two years. We were really going solid, despite everything that's happened.

Alaric parked the car, very quickly with the tires screeching, might I add, and we all got outside. As we approached the church, there was a boy in a jean jacket with clothe sleeves, a jacket I've been wanting by the way. He was sitting on the steps with earbuds blaring, I could hear his music from where I was, and he was jotting something down into a notebook.

An intellectual, let's see how he reacts to what he was about to experience. We all knew inside of that church was a newly triggered werewolf going through his first transformation.

The boy took his earbuds out, looking at us with wide eyes. Hope stopped in her tracks as she saw him.

"Landon?" she said.

Landon? I wondered, but then it clicked. He was the townie, the one she danced with the night Uncle Klaus took the Hollow from her, the night of her first full moon as a werewolf. He was the boy who used to serve us milkshakes. I stifled a laugh.

"Hope?" he asked, looking at me next. "Lilah?"

"You three know each other?" Alaric questioned, walking up the steps with his duffel bag and crossbow.

"Long story," Hope replied.

We could hear someone yelling from the inside, and glass was shattering.

Landon stood up, looking at the door looking scared.

"Dr. Saltzman," Hope and I said together, looking at him.

"Yeah, I'm on it," he said, approaching the door.

He attempted to open the door, but it was locked.

"Doors are locked," he said.

"Dissera Portus!" Hope chanted, holding her hands up as she casted the spell.

Sometimes, watching her and everyone else do magic, I missed the day I was a witch.

"You're gonna want to stay out here, Landon, trust me," she told the boy, who looked terrified.

As we walked inside, I glanced over my shoulder.

"You don't listen, huh?" I joked when I saw curly walking in with us.

"Shut down the exorcist, would you?" Alaric asked Hope.

"Silencio," she casted.

He grabbed onto his throat in horror as his lips formed together, and he couldn't speak. I'd have to do a lot of compelling tonight, I could already tell.

"Ad somrun," Hope said, and all three of the adults in the church fell to the floor, unconscious.

On the floor was a boy our age, the one going through his transformation. I pulled the three adults to the side while Hope and Alaric set up to contain him before he became a full wolf.

-

On the drive back to Mystic Falls, Hope sat in the front still while I was in the back with the two boys. I was in the middle squeezed between the werewolf, Rafael, who was asleep, and Landon. Why we were bringing Landon was beyond me, he was human. I should have just compelled him right then and there, but with his best friend and foster brother unconscious, Alaric thought he'd be more willing to understand what we do at the Salvatore School with a familiar face, and not a total abduction.

"How do you three know each other?" Alaric asked, talking to Hope and Landon.

"He used to serve us milkshaks at the Mystic Grill," Hope replied.

"Peanut Butter Blast and Coffee Brownie Bunch," he said, naming our orders. "Whipped cream on the bottom."

Hope looked back to smile at him, and he said, "We danced once."

"We tried," Hope said, smiling. She laughed, and siad, "And then you moved away."

"Then you made a door blow off its hinges with your brain, do you feel like explaining that?" he asked, and I laughed.

"Remember when I told Roman that Lizzie said you blew up an orphanage with your brain?" I asked, earning a scared look from Landon, and disapproving glares from both Alaric and Hope. I shrunk down in my seat, and said, "Sorry, not the time. Got it."

"We'll explain everything," Alaric reassured him. "We're almost there."

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Somewhere safe," Alaric said as we inched closer to the Salvatore School.

When we got to the school, everyone was getting out of their seats. I unbuckled myself, and then Rafael. As Landon rounded the car to the door next to Rafael, I was already shaking his shoulder gently, trying to wake him without startling him.

"What?" he mumbled, blinking his eyes open. "Where the hell..."

"Long story," Landon told him when he opened the door. "Or so I've been told."

As we all finally got out of the car, Lizzie and Josie were standing nearby. When they saw Rafael and Landon, they smiled.

"Welcome to the Salvatore School," Lizzie said. "We're your tour guides."

"I'm Josie."

"I'm Lizzie. Sisters."

"Twins," added Josie.

"Fraternal. Obvs."

Rafael, still recovering from just waking up, looked at them a bit scared.

"Rafael, why don't you go ahead with the girls while I talk to Landon."

As Josie and Lizzie both grabbed one of Rafael's arms, they both said, "Morning, Hope."

They turned to me, with real smiles, and said, "Hey, Lilah, coming?"

I looked to Hope, who rolled her eyes. The Saltzman twins were nicer to me than they were to Hope, and I wasn't too sure why. Maybe it was my friendship with their mother, maybe it was just because they felt like Alaric spent a lot of time with Hope, but they, mainly Lizzie, seemed to despite my cousin.

"Go," Hope said, annoyance in her tone because of the treatment she was getting. She turned to the twins. "Morning girls."

"More like despair," mumbled Lizzie.

"I heard that."

I grabbed her arm and squeezed, walking with the twins and Rafael.

"No, you didn't!" Lizzie said.

"Didn't have to."

"Everyone behave," Alaric scolded.

"Love you, Dad," the twins chorused as we finally walked out of hearing.

"Let's maybe stop by and see Roman," I said as we started the tour. I turned to Rafael and added, "He's my boyfriend, I'm sure you'll love him."

"You mean your evil boyfriend?" Lizzie added, before mumbling, "Crap, inside voice."

Despite the fact they are nice to mean, Lizzie liked to make jabs at Roman sometimes because of what happened with Hayley.

I gave her a look, and she mumbled sorry. We continued walking. Josie was to the far right, then Rafael, then Lizzie, and then me.

"Everyone gets along with everybody here for the most part," Josie told Rafael as we walked through the halls of the school.

"The wolves are pretty cliquey," Lizzie said. "They like to hang with their own."

"In defiance to the school's commitment to inclusiveness," Josie added.

"That is why we volunteered to be your tour guides," Lizzie said. "To give your a good witch welcome before your hairier brethren corrupt you."

"And because you think he's cute," I whispered in her ear.

"Shut up," she laughed, shoving me.

"What happened?" Josie asked, looking past Rafael at us.

"I'll tell you later," I said.

"You'll be with Hope later," Josie replied.

"Duh, she is my cousin."

"That is still so weird to hear you say," Lizzie said, groaning.

"Anyways," I said, "The tour."

We peeked through one of the classrooms, which happened to be Dorian's.

"That is our librarian, Mr. Williams. He's subbing for our Chemistry of Magic teacher who accidentally incinerated himself last week in hellfire," explained Josie.

"Burned all the hair off his body, but didn't leave a scar," Lizzie said.

"If I had been teaching that class, that wouldn't have even happened," I laughed.

"But alas, you are no longer a witch, and you turned down the teaching jobs our mom offered you anyways," Lizzie laughed, linking an arm around mine.

Sometimes, it felt wrong being good friends with them knowing they didn't get along with Hope, but at the same time, they were good people. Just, something was up with them and Hope. It wasn't like Hope was all that nice to them, anyways.

We watched as Dorian instructed Penelope to do something, all three of us scoffing.

"She who shall not be named," Lizzie and I rolled our eyes together.

"Talking about her gives her power," Josie said.

I looked at Rafael, who was looking like he understood nothing, with eyes wide and his lips sucked in.

"Who are you talking about?" he asked.

"He speaks!" I exclaimed, realizing that was the first thing he said since I woke him up. "And we're talking about Josie's evil ex."

Penelope looked at us as she casted her spell.

"Come on, we'll show you the turret. It's where the seniors go to smoke," Lizzie said.

"What do they smoke, eye of newt?"

"Weed," Josie replied, before adding, "And the turret is also where Lilah and Roman have midnight makeout sessions ever since our dad made her crash with Hope to open up dorms for new students."

"Oh shush," I told her, laughing as we all turned around to walk to the turret.

-

We ended up showing him the field afterwards.

"Alyssa Chang made a broom fly in physics last year, but Rick Rogers fell 30 feet during practice, so real-life Quidditch remains an elusive pipe dream," Lizzie explained to him as we watched the P.E class play.

"It's called Wickery," I said.

"My parents invented it when we were ten," Lizzie told him.

Josie sped up, and she went to go sit with MG. She glanced at us behind her shoulder, and I sent her an odd glance, but she just smiled and stayed with him while I sat with Lizzie and Rafael.

As we sat in silence, Lizzie finally said something. "I heard about what happened to your girlfriend."

I looked at her with a quirked up eyebrow. I hadn't even heard what happened to his girlfriend, and I met Rafael first.

We both looked at her weird.

"How the hell?" I asked.

"Oh, I have spies everywhere," she said, and she started rambling in a way Caroline did in high school. That's what Elena told me when Lizzie rambled to us once, she said she resembled her mother very much. "I'm nosy in that, like, charming way."

"Thanks, I guess," Raphael said to her, still looking awkward.

"On the plus side, we're all happy to know you're single."

I smacked her thigh for that, giving her a look while he just stared at her.

"Oh, God," she said. "That was my inside voice... again. I am so sorry."

He looked upset now.

"Guys like you make me nervous," she said, which seemed to make him even more upset.

"Guys like me?" he asked.

"You know, hot."

Lizzie... I cringed.

When he kept looking at her with the same upset expression, she added, "Angry... damaged..."

He looked away from her, nodding. "Yeah, well, I sort of made a point in my life of, uh, keeping clear of girls like you. So I guess I'm gonna go find Landon."

I watched as he went, and as Lizzie's facial expression soured.

"Can you go after him?" she asked me in a small voice. "I gotta go."

She walked away quickly without waiting for me to answer. I got up and followed in the direction Rafael went in.

I jogged to catch up with him.

"I'm sorry about that," I said. "She's working on her people skills. She gets her ramblings from her mom."

He rolled his eyes, and said, "How does she know about Cassie?"

I looked at him odd.

"My girlfriend," he clarified.

"Oh," I said, and I shrugged. "I'm honestly not even sure. I didn't know about it until she said it."

He scoffed, before his face softened. "So, they're witches, I'm a werewolf... apparently... what're you?"

"I'm a witch turned updated original vampire," I replied, fumbling with my hands.

"Updated original?" he asked.

"It's a long story, you'll learn about it more as you stay, it's apart of the history courses. Basically, I was turned into a vampire with the same spell as used on the five original vampires, who also happen to be my father and his siblings... but the spell was modified."

He looked like he was going to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he kind of laughed, and looked at me as if he wanted me to keep explaining.

We ended up back at school in the library by the turret. We stared out the window, and I kept explaining.

"When you start doing your classes, you better ace this chapter because you have a primary source giving you the answers," I said to him, laughing as I pointed. He laughed as well. "Basically, my dad was human when my mother got pregnant, and I was taken by my dad's aunt because of a deal my grandmother made long before my dad was even born. So, my dad didn't know of me, my mom died at my birth, and I lived sixteen years learning magic with my grand-aunt. My grandmother and grandfather wanted to protect my dad and his siblings from death, so using dark magic, which my grandmother basically founded herself, she used an old immortal spell. They just didn't know with immortality came hunger for blood, and that made my dad and his four siblings into vampires. When I was sixteen, my grand-aunt used the same spell, but modified it. My dad and his siblings could be killed by white oak wood, but I couldn't. They also could've been killed by this guy named Marcel Gerard, who is also a hybrid type of vampire, who is powerful enough to kill an Original, but not me."

"So... you're invincible," he said, laughing. "Sorry, this is all just so crazy... and you talk about it so nonchalantly, like it's normal."

"It's what's been normal for me for years," I replied.

"So... you're like... really really old then, aren't you?" he asked.

"I'm mean, I never aged, I'm technically dead," I replied. "It's just that I've been on this earth for so many years. I'm still sixteen."

"... Got it."

I grabbed his shoulders, hoping what I was going to say next would reassure him.

"This place is safe," I told him. "Our kind, the supernatural, we're feared but hunted, and we aren't exactly safe. I know that I can't really feel the same fear as everyone else, but I've watched a lot of people I love die because the supernatural world is crazy and dark, but it's also beautiful. We're enhanced, we're just trying to get through the day, and trust me, the Salvatore School, despite it's many flaws since it is the first of it's kind, it is also amazing. It's where we can go to feel normal in a world that we aren't normal to."

He was about to say something else when someone said, "There you are!"

We both turned, and I took my hands off of the boy's shoulders. Roman was walking towards us, a smile at me but suspicious eyes at Rafael.

"Hey," I smiled, and when he got close enough, we gave each other a quick peck on the lips. He kept one arm secure around my shoulder, and I leaned into him. "Babe, this is Rafael, he's the new wolf Dr. Saltzman took Hope and I to help get last night."

Roman put his hand out for Rafael to shake.

He looked at him awkwardly, and shook it. "I'm Raf."

"Roman," Roman said, smiling. "How're you liking the place so far?"

"Um... my tour was... intense, but Lilah's a lot calmer than Lizzie Saltzman, so it's been okay so far. I just... have no idea where the headmaster put my best friend."

"You can go talk to Alaric if you'd like to," Roman said. "He's the human boy, right?"

We both nodded.

"Yeah, he was in Alaric's office with Hope and MG earlier, but I'm not sure if they're still there. We can take you to his office on the way so you can get your answers."

I looked down at my clock.

"No, Alaric would be sparring with Hope already."

"Alright, then newbie can stay with us," Roman said, smiling at playfully hitting his chest with the back of his hand.

Rafael smiled, too, but an awkward smile. I looked up at my boyfriend, and I kissed his cheek.

"We should probably go help with planning for tonight," he told me.

"What's tonight?" Rafael asked.

Roman and I both looked at each other and smiled.

"Just one really exciting night," I replied.

--

chapter two

taglist: (lemme know if u wanna be on it) @vibhati123

[thestudyfeels]

Just finished reading a Paulo Coelho book. In three words, it was beautiful, poetic and life-changing. For the next few minutes, here’s what happened: I leaned back on my bed frame, eyes closed, my lips instantly parting into a content smile. Bliss. Then, I scrambled to my desk and grabbed a pen and paper, inspiration coursing through my veins. I had a mission to conquer.

… And here we are now. It’s rare to find books that give you ten times the energy you initially put into reading the book. The Alchemist, it turns out, is one of those prizes. It’s about everything I preach on this blog *adjusts halo on head* - pursuing your destiny, having faith, never backing out, bouncing back up from failure (read here), leaving a legacy behind - and look up to in my life.

Ahem, hence, this post is a big deal. Yes, a bigger deal than food. Pat, put that taco down, I see you. Listen, huh? (Clears throat.)

That said (no Pat, don’t you dare sneak in a bite), let’s talk about The Alchemist and its lessons. Get your comfort drink and a blanket, for this is a long one, bud. Stay till the end for free tacos! (But to think of it, Pat would’ve finished them by then, so… stay anyway? Thanks.)

Unless you’re a believer, miracles won’t happen for you. And trust me, miracles are one thing you will want on your side when you start your journey. Having faith, y’know, believing, is one of the common traits of the highly successful go-getters. Not trusting your capabilities, worrying you aren’t worth the life you are aiming for will become your inevitable failure. Why? ‘Cause, where your attention is, your energy flows.

Omens play a big role in deepening your faith. They are signs that you’re on the way to living your best life, an assurance that you’re on the right path. Omens can be anything - a vision you had that you could never quite forget (same), food that reminded you of something or someone (I’ve made you hungry now, oops) - ANYTHING. I know, this sounds all woo-woo to you right now but listen, when you start believing, magic happens, and the more omens you discover because the universe is now all hyped up for you. So firstly, believe. Then, you’ll see the impossible happening. Don’t do it the other way around.

  Omens? They’re like checking off items from a to-do list with the last one saying ‘live my dream life and kick ass every day.’ Who don’t like a checked off to-do now?

Here’s going deep. Ultimately, you know what will count? The number of people you impacted, the courage you showed in living your dream life, and the legacy you left behind. That’s all that counts.

My man, Shakespeare, is dead. Which… sounds rude when I say it. (Don’t haunt me Mr. Shakespeare, let’s not turn this into a real-life Hamlet.) Why do people still read his awesome (though I don’t get them) work? Leonardo da Vinci, my bro, is ‘dead’ too. Why do people still flock to see the Mona Lisa? (If not, they just search up Mona Lisa memes and I feel them.) To come to my point, the greats are great because they have the courage to do something different. You’ll notice that each of these wizards created something new and authentic. They were true to themselves. Imagine what would’ve happened if Shakespeare thought his work sucked and pushing Newton aside, started juggling apples up and down. I think it’ll be safe to say that Literature and Physics would both be effed up.

You are here on an important mission too. To find your passion and pursue it. Don’t waste those precious hours on shit that doesn’t fill you with happiness and satisfaction. Be like Shakespeare. He didn’t care that hundreds of years later, high school kids would hate him for his bewildering poems. He’s the real boss. After all, we are still reading his poems lmao.

Or in millennial speak, your homie. From whom you steal food because you know they wouldn’t mind (or maybe they would, but you don’t give an eff). Yup, that friend.

The best lesson that shone from this book (it’s a shiny book) was this - your heart? It is terrified to pursue its dreams because it fears losing everything along the way. It’s afraid of failure, of being betrayed, and, well, of heartbreak. Your heart believes this because all around, in our society, it witnesses people living meaningless lives and dying with regrets. It has gotten around to believing that this is the way to live. And so, this happens - “Helen don’t you even DARE think about opening your dream nail salon. How ridiculous can you be?! You’re perfect as a real estate agent, selling property and writing contracts for European clients whose names you can’t pronounce. I mean, hey, struggling to rent out ancient mansions isn’t that frustrating.”

Your heart will come up with all sorts of creative excuses UNLESS you manage to convince it otherwise, and make it realize “the worry about suffering is indeed worse than the suffering itself.” Once you do that, you’ll no longer need to ask for validation from others or seek happiness advice from your terminally sad friend - your heart WILL give you all of the answers.  

So teach your heart to be fearless and your heart will teach you how to remain so. Forever. *Mic drop*

Here’s a quote from the book: “‘I am, between my flock [he was a shepherd] and my treasure,’ the boy thought. He had to choose between something he had become accustomed to and something he wanted to have.”

Nobody ever accomplished something mind-blowing without encountering risk. Most people, however, are so afraid of stepping out of their comfort zones that instead they accept mediocre lives and die whining about how ‘everything is so unfair.’ Or complain they got no money while being jealous of everyone else’s success. Or “why can’t I have a hot boyfriend like Cayla’s man.” Jesus.

Because the thing is - we live like we’re scared of living. Here, I’ll wait till that sinks in… drowning in the quicksand of truth yet? Kay. I was in the shower making my stinky self clean the day this thought struck me. (#showerthoughts, ha.) I think I smiled. Or LOL-ed in my mind. It just sounded so stupid!

What if you had a SINGLE chance to become someone worth becoming? A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity came up. Would you really, really, continue to live your boring-ass life and lose the opportunity? That’s what life is about. It’s full of opportunities to turn the tables and have a new, exciting start. To leave a dull, boring life behind and never look back!

    But because they usually come at a price (like quitting your lame job and having the courage to start the business you’ve always wanted to), most are scared of leaving the shores to explore the dangers of the unknown. DON’T do that. Life’s not tryna kill you here. This ain’t no Jumanji. Be brave, my friend, trust that life has your back (it does), and take those risks that have the potential to change your life phenomenally.

Go out today and live an amazing, adventurous life because it’s short and you’ll never be this young. And, inch by inch, day by day, step out, pal. Step outta your comfort zone. THAT’S where the real danger is.

This was one of my favourite parts in the book. Here (spoiler alert), the boy was asked to find ‘life,’ an omen the Alchemist wanted to discover before guiding the boy to his destiny. The boy, as it always happens in stories, had no idea what the old man meant. So, my dude did this. He let loose the reins on his horse. The horse, drunk on freedom, ran and only came to a stop in front of a small hole in the desert ground. When the alchemist put his hand inside that hole, he found a tiny black snake (yes the snake bit him, but apparently he’s Superman). The boy had thus found life and could now begin his journey.

The hidden meaning behind this (authors sure love to do this to us, huh) was that life finds life. Similars attract. The horse had a feeling that there would be a living creature inside that hole, simply because they were both alive. Real deep shit. You feel me? Otherwise known as the Law of Attraction, this suggests that you attract the things you value or think about the most. To put simply, like = like.

For instance, if you’re a grouchy human and complain about the insignificants, I know two things about you (yes, I’m magic): A) you are not shiny at all, my pal, your life story is a pile of dust (the dust ain’t shiny either) and B) you probably have the same kind of lame friends too.

You attract what you give your attention to, whether subconsciously or not. Let’s say you value loyalty and think cheating is a big no-no. If you continue to value it for a while, you yourself will become a loyal hoe and not do the dirty deeds. Like = Like. Similarly, if you value hard work and relentlessness, eventually (it’ll speed up the process if you consciously work harder, BTW), you’ll find yourself having those traits.

Moral of the story? To make your life shiner, change your beliefs, attitude, values and personality to the affirmative. Life will be a blast for you.

And finally, the last one! Let’s end by saying life is going to throw many obstacles and adversities at you. It ALWAYS does. The pursuit to your destiny begins with beginner’s luck (in complex tongue, the principle of favorability) and ends with the victor being severely tested. Sadly, THAT’S the point where most give up. Just when they are inches away from their treasure, they give up. It gets too hard for them, they lose faith, stop trusting their instincts - and BAM, they’re back to square one.

  Don’t let that happen to you. Just know that all the obstacles you face, they aren’t failures. The only true failure in life is quitting. Everything else is just gathering information. And one last thing, before I leave and try to pry away that one taco I see in Pat’s hand, remember this quote, “the darkest hour of the night comes just before dawn,” and when life throws a fit, hang on, knowing your dream life awaits you just around the corner. You are going to conquer life. I’m so proud of you.

Want to read more? Here are some related posts:

Read my last post: Interview 3 - Living a life true to you)

Mentioned in this post: Bouncing back from failure

5 reasons why you’re unhappy right now

A list of all the books I have read so far in 2018

+ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box!

Well, that’s a wrap! I post new articles every week (the schedule’s here) so you can follow me if you are into killing the game & conquering life. I’ll do my best to help you in the tough yet amazing journey called life. ✧

If you want to go through my blog, I suggest picking your choice of post from my masterpost list! Or, if you want to read something insightful on your cozy afternoon while chilling under blankets, I recommend reading one of my interviews. Feeling spoilt for choices? Here’s another! If you want to implement the ideas I share in my masterposts by taking action, take on one of my challenges!

I hope you are well; stay strong and conquer life, you conqueror.

- Nandini (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[aubrinn]

So I’ve decided that I’m going to go ahead and start posting my legacy family. I’ve actually realized that I don’t have as many pictures of them as I thought but it’s cool (besides the fact that the only picture I have from Gen 1 is the top picture in this post because I only thought about posting stuff around the time Gen 2 came around). First, a few informational tidbits that I think should be included, and then a story of how Gen 1 went (spoiler alert: it was a mess from the beginning). There’s a lot that I’m going to talk about, so if you don’t want to read so much, just skip down to the next to last paragraph titled “Summary,” but I really hope you’ll take the scenic read because I feel like that would give more insight and connection to the family. But without further ado, welcome to my Flores legacy!

1. This is my first ever legacy. My best friend and I decided to do a legacy challenge together. I think there are a bunch of rules and stuff - like certain traits, careers, and storyline stuff - but we aren’t following any of those. We just decided on no cheats for money, careers, and all that good stuff. The real challenge for me will be not getting bored. I don’t usually use cheats, so that part is easy for me.

2. I decided to start a legacy because the biggest family trees I’ve had span to 3 gens, and the 3rd gen is usually a baby or child before I get bored and make a new family. So I thought this would be an opportunity for me to feel a connection to a whole line of the same family and experience a full family tree where my sims actually have great-grandparents and cousins and uncles and all that.

3. When I started this legacy, I had an idea of the founder living more of a simple life, so in the picture she has just moved into a small, wooden house in that 20x20 lot on the Windenburg island. But that whole idea crumbled very quickly.

4. My editing skills are last to all (you know that phrase “second to none” which means you’re the best? well I suck so I’m last to all). I’m pretty new to editing and have only done simple stuff, so don’t expect much from my pictures because they will look pretty much like the original.

5. I’ve noticed that I tend to use a lot of parentheses.

6. Yes the family name is from one of xxxtentacion’s songs. Fight me.

Generation 1

Jocelyn Flores moved into her little shack house in Windenburg with the dream of becoming a famous artist. She preferred to paint outside because of the natural light and scenery (but it literally would not stop raining so painting rarely happened). I don’t remember where she met Marcus (after some thinking I think we joined the Partihaus club) but she met him and she thought he was really attractive. She flirted with him and asked him to woohoo and he said yes. Lo and behold, he had gotten her pregnant. She invited him over to tell him the news, and he seemed excited to become a father. Jocelyn liked Marcus and wanted to get to know him so they could possibly be together, but he turned down any non-flirtatious interactions from her (he literally only wanted her if she wanted to woohoo and we were not there for that). Then and there she decided she was done with him and that she would raise her baby alone. Jocelyn named her baby girl Beatrice (I’ve been told that’s an old lady name but I don’t care because I love that name), and she loved Beatrice more than anyone else.

One night, Eva invited Jocelyn to a party at the Ancient Ruins, and Jocelyn decided that she could use a night out (because I never take my sims out the house when there’s 2+ of them so I wanted to get out the house for once). The girls showed up to the party, and Marcus was there (I actually think I invited him but for storyline purposes, he was already there). His dashing good looks reminded Jocelyn why she wanted to be with him, so she bought him some drinks and chatted and flirted. (I thought maybe since he was being friendly it meant he would be open to getting to know Jocelyn and have a real relationship with her.) Convinced that his nice behavior meant Beatrice wouldn’t have to grow up without a father, Jocelyn hopped into the bushes with him and woohooed. And of course, she was pregnant again. And to my surprise (though I shouldn’t have been), after telling him the news, he again wanted nothing to do with her. Jocelyn (and I) then decided she was officially done with him. If you blow a second chance you’re not getting a chance to fool her a third time.

I then built Jocelyn a proper house on the 20x20 lot (it wasn’t cute, I’m not much a builder). Jocelyn gave lots of attention to Beatrice and her new son Sawyer. She fueled their imagination (skill) while also pursuing her dream. Marcus came over sometimes to see the kids, but he mostly just sat on the couch and watched tv. Not too long after Jocelyn gave birth, Eva became pregnant again. Curious as to who her babydaddy was, I used mccc on her to find out, and I was beyond shocked to find out that it was Marcus! Like how are we gonna share a babydaddy with our best friend?! Ridiculous. I didn’t want to see him after that. I was so done with him.

I decided to move the family into another house in Windenburg. I did it up and made it into a decent 3-bedroom house. Jocelyn, still wanting to find love, went on a couple of dates using the Simda dating app before going on a date with Diego Lobo. With him being an art critic, she felt like Diego understood the importance of fine art. They got along perfectly. After more dates and much more time together, Jocelyn proposed and he said yes. They celebrated their engagement with some woohoo back at his apartment, and the next day around the same time confetti burst into the air. Yep. Jocelyn was pregnant. Again.

(Then I took a break from sims - or maybe it was just this legacy - but when I came back I didn’t feel any connection between Jocelyn and Diego, so I made her break up with him. Bur for storyline purposes, we’ll say she realized that she only wanted to get married because she was scared of the idea of raising three kids alone, but then she realized she had gotten this far on her own and that she could continue being a strong, independent woman.)

Jocelyn then realized she didn’t want to get married to Diego. She was scared of the idea of raising all her kids on her own, but she realized that she had been doing just that all this time and that she didn’t need a man’s help if she didn’t truly love him. So she broke off the engagement.

Life went pretty smoothly after that. Jocelyn gave birth to her third child, a girl, and named her Ari. Diego wanted to be a part of Ari’s life, and he called her often. Marcus, on the other hand, stopped visiting and calling as if he didn’t know to where they moved (but I know he knew because that child support money still found its way to Jocelyn’s mailbox every week or so). The kids enjoyed the snow and sun and everything that the Seasons expansion pack had to offer in Windenburg. Jocelyn had many hookups (especially with Paolo Rocca) but she never settled. She was happy being a single mother (while Marcus ended up having 8 children total, by Jocelyn, Eva, Candy Behr, and I think one other woman).

Time went on. Birthday cakes were baked. Candles were blown. Beatrice, a teen, decided to get involved in school and join the drama club. After the first day, she knew she wanted to be an actress. A few days before becoming a young adult, she won a drama club accolade, and when she did age up, she moved to Del Sol Valley to achieve her newfound dream of becoming a famous actress. (The bottom picture is after she moved and Sawyer visited her.)

Summary: Jocelyn hooked up with Marcus and got pregnant, and he wanted nothing to do with her when she told him she wanted to have a serious relationship. She had her baby and named her Beatrice. She then saw Marcus at a party. He was friendly and non-flirty, so Jocelyn thought he would be open to having a real relationship. She bought him some drinks, and then they both slipped off into the bushes, resulting in a second pregnancy that turned out to be a boy who she named Sawyer. Marcus, again, wanted nothing to do with Jocelyn, so she decided that that was his last chance and she was now really done with him. She cared for Beatrice and Sawyer more than any mother could, and she met Diego Lobo. Jocelyn and Diego hit it off, so after some time she proposed, and he said yes. They celebrated with woohoo, which resulted in Jocelyn’s third pregnancy. She gave birth to a girl named Ari. Jocelyn broke off the engagement, realizing she only wanted to marry him because she was scared of raising three kids alone. Being in Ari’s life was important to Diego, so he called her often. Marcus couldn’t be bothered enough to do more than send child support checks. As time went on, everyone aged up, and Beatrice became a teen. She joined the school drama club which led her to aspire to be a famous actress. She won a club accolade and moved to Del Sol Valley once she was old enough to achieve her dreams (the bottom picture is after she moved and Sawyer visited her).

And that’s all, folks! Hope you enjoyed the read (whether it was long or short), and I hope you’ll come back for more on the Flores family.

[starfishandcoffee]

#watching under the cherry moon

“Once upon a time in France, there lived a bad boy named Christopher Tracey. Only one thing mattered to Christopher: Money. [...] Somewhere along the way, he learned the true meaning of love.”

Aw man, that’s some Jean Cocteau La Belle et la Bête shit right there. Will Prince truly be cured of his pencil mustache by true love?

----

*Tricky’s note* ‘She’s thirsty. Pour it on!’

We’re watching a film about Prince as a for-hire gigolo, I think it’s safe to say we’re all thirsty.

----

I like how they threw in a ballerina behind Prince, just to class it up. Now he can make all the sex faces he wants. Or at least he could if Tricky wasn’t distracting him with those notes about how they’re behind on rent and desperately need money, hence why Prince is a gigolo, plot stuff...

Now, movie, I love you, I do - But i’m not exactly watching for the plot.

----

A Film By Prince - It really couldn’t have been from any other.

----

Five minutes in and we have our butt shot. See, this is why UTCM is the classy Prince picture. Graffiti Bridge gave us shirtless Prince less than a minute in, UTCM makes you wait for it.

----

“Mirror, mirror, seventeen fold, who’s the sexiest dressed in gold?”

*Tricky not wearing any gold* “You must be talking about me, cousin!”

*Christopher to Katy, who is not naked* “Smile, Katy, you’re naked!”

Hmmm, the dialogue makes no sense and the whole scene is meaningless - WOW! UTCM really is an art film!

----

So Tricky (and possibly Christopher also) are sexing up the landlady Katy... but they still have to pay rent? Seems like they only get slight increases in their delays between paying - Perhaps they should try renegotiating their arrangement? 

Or give her them Bela Lugosi eyes, sure.

----

“I guess it takes a certain amount of courage for anyone to allow himself to be photographed that way. My advice to Prince is; be a coward the next time.” - Roger Ebert.

... he’s not wrong. 

----

*Christopher drowns a bath toy*

“Fascist!”

See, this is why the movie flopped; people weren’t ready for such frank and brutal criticisms of Reagan-era government, and his oppression of many minority groups during the 80s - steadily turning America from a capitalist culture of greed and gluttony, to a quasi-fascist regime, hell bent on eradicating certain groups (like the LGBT) through unfair legislation and willful neglect.

Viva la revolution! Prince is ready, willing and able to lead us!

----

Prince in the bath, naked, wet, phonesexing it up - truly, the content we all came for. 

----

*bathroom sign* chantier interdit au public = public access not permitted. BOO. Cockblocking bathroom.

----

Oh look, it’s the british actor that played Foot in The Beatles Help! - A movie whose plot revolves around Ringo being chosen as a human sacrifice because he’s wearing a very special ring that he can’t seem to take off...

And yet despite that being the plot, it has a rating of 92% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, while UTCM has a rating of 33% rotten. The moral here? No matter how stupid and terrible your movie, people will mistakenly thinks it’s brilliant if you’ve got someone in there with a British accent.

British accents! Classing things up and making them seem better than they actually are since always! (Disclaimer from this British person: No. They really don’t, we’re not better than Americans, not by a long shot.)

----

This movie has Elephants. It is officially the best movie ever made. Prince and Elephants, you can’t top that. Shut down the studios, it’s over for everyone else.

----

Mary’s first scene is more than a little weird given the character traits and personality she has throughout the rest of the film - 

*here* Wild, shameless and unabashed partygirl, life of the party, no filter, happily flashes a large crowd that includes friends and family, openly flirts with stranger Christopher, is a real livewire. 

*the whole rest of the film* Cold, calculating, chip on her shoulder, trust and intimacy issues stemming from a strained relationship with her father, overly serious, fun sucking killjoy.

Consistency! 👍

----

It really is a shock to watch a Prince film were the leading lady can actually act.

----

I’m weak.

----

So Mrs. Wellington is sleeping with Christopher and Mary’s dad? + Her husband? Though he never shows up in the film so he might be DOA.

“You aren’t seeing another man, by any chance? Because if you are, i’ll kill him.” Ah, so this is the real reason he had Christopher killed, not because he cares about his daughter, we see throughout the rest of the film he doesn’t, but what he does care about is his married mistress daring to see another man.

----

Mary spends all night and all morning obsessing over comebacks she could have given during a conversation she had the day before? She takes the time to track down where Christopher is, and goes there just to deliver the ‘perfect’ retort? Ok, Mary, ok. I feel you. 

----

Jabs exchanged over an intimate dance? YASSS, you better give me the enemies to lovers trope I live for UTCM.

----

“I’m in the mood for drawers!” Prince’s lyrical genius knows no limits.

----

*Christopher sees a stranger’s car*

‘Welp guess i’m just gonna hop in and play pretend i’m driving it!’ 

----

“Oh, no! I don’t know him! He said what, officer? My brother?! Oh, no! We definitely have different fathers! Check it out; butterscotch, chocolate. No way.”

Prince doesn’t get enough credit or praise for how damn funny he is. 

----

Wrecka Stow - The sole enduring legacy of UTCM.

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Mary’s got that Neon Telephone.mp3 (I want it).

----

And another shirtless Prince scene. How can anyone not love UTCM?

----

Climbs up the wall with a ladder, breaks into her house through the window, calls himself a pizzaman - Romance; nailed it!

----

Funniest scene in the whole movie. *guard dogs start barking* “Oh, fuck it!”

----

I wish they’d included Love Or Money on the Parade album.

----

A shopping montage? YES. Though they missed the opportunity to have Prince come out in a bunch of different ensembles while Jerome shakes his head.

----

Now, I love Prince, I especially love Parade-era Prince, and you know I love this movie, but... that kiss in front of the car... was he trying to kiss her or eat her? And not in the fun way, no, in the: I’m going to rip your lips off with my teeth - kind of way. Red Dragon is not what I want to be thinking about when i’m enjoying a vicarious fantasy of making out with Prince, mkay.

----

Chases her down, tackles her to the ground and pins her so she can’t escape. Romance; nailed it!

----

“I must have that disease? What’s the name of it?” “It’s called ‘stupid’.”

I freakin’ love this movie.

----

“As a matter of fact, it’s not so hot; you bit me once!”

I told yall. If he starts lifting weights and refusing to look at his own reflection, i’m outta here.

----

Oh, Prince is making sex noises, moans and all that? Ok, i’m staying.

----

“Jesus Christ, shut up? I’m calling your Daddy, this instant. Be quiet, maybe, yes. Pipe down. But not ‘shut up’. Oh, no! I won’t allow that!”

I just...

“I’ll come kick your face off!” “... did you say kiss my face off? I’d like that real well...”

... I love this movie, so much.

----

“You rich folks always taking from people like me. That says what? That says now i’mma take something from you.”

The Socialist hero we need (and want). Again, no wonder this flopped:

----

One the great things about Kristin Scott Thomas being a great actress is that not only does she elevate the scenes she’s in, it encourages Prince to step up and play off her really well. UTCM is the best Prince ever was, acting-wise.

----

I love the shot of Mary’s hand cradling the two lovers superimposed on it. People really need to give Prince more credit for his skills as a director, and of course, the late, great Michael Ballhaus who provides the film’s gorgeous cinematography. UTCM, if nothing else, is a stunningly beautiful picture.

----

... these, these kisses between Mary and Christopher are just some of the most awkward and unsexy i’ve ever seen. PRAAANNCCE stop trying to consume her.

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“Because it’s a full moon, and i’m a werewolf, bitch!” 

I would be interested in a movie about Jerome Benton becoming a werewolf.

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Billowing curtains during the night, as our main character struggles with confusion and despair? In France?! This really is some Jean Cocteau La Belle et la Bête shit right here.

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This trippy “Christopher, I miss you!” scene... so... artsy.

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I like how the maid in the background is dabbing her, presumably tearfilled, eyes, over Mary’s frustration of her situation. We’ve missed a whole other movie about how the maid practically raised Mary, and is more of a mother to her than her actual mother. She’s even reflected in the mirror, outright crying.

“I hurt real bad.” Maid’s like, me too, baby, me too.

----

Nice of Mrs. Wellington to tell Christopher what’s happening with the plot. 

“Good luck, Christopher.” She’s weirdly supportive of her former gigolo going after the daughter of the man she’s having an affair with. What’s up with Mrs. Wellington, I feel there’s a lot there we kind of need an explanation of.

And I feel like, ‘well, she is French...’ isn’t a good enough answer.

----

This race to the airport/abduction scene is made by having it set to Anotherloverholenyohead. It’s weirdly thrilling and suspenseful.

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“I need a lifetime!” “I’m not giving it to you!” 

*the craziest of all crazy eyes*

 “Oh yes, you are.”

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This whole scene in the car, again, just great direction, framing, composition... this is such a beautiful film.

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Whipping off his sunglasses exactly as Kiss starts up? Perfection.

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The hobos agree.

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So... why was Christopher aimlessly wandering around the docks after dropping Mary off at the grotto? At first I thought he had sent for Tricky, but no, he’s surprised to see him there, so... what’s happening?

You’d think Christopher would lay low and hide out since the police and Mary’s dad are trying to find him, but... err, nope. This is why you end up shot, idiot.

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“Hold them off, i’m going to get Mary.” But... but... but you already had Mary! You had her and a getaway vehicle! Why did you drop her off, come back to land, and aimlessly wander around?! Movie, I have so many questions.

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Wait... Tricky and Katy make it to the grotto on foot, before Christopher made it by speed boat? So it would have been quicker to just walk there, rather than drawing attention to himself by using the speed boat? Movie, I swear to God.

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“Christopher, run!” He’s in a boat!

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“I’m not going without you.” You already went without her!

“There’s no time to wait, go!” Lady, they’re after him because your father said he abducted you, the best chance he has is to remain with you, while you explain the situation. Idiots, the both of them.

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He’s shot... because of his own poor planning and stupidity. Hmmm.

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Well, Tricky seems more broken up about it than Mary. Guess we know who truly loved him.

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So Christopher’s dead, Mary depressed and refusing to move on, but HEY Tricky’s doing good! He’s landlord of his own apartment complex and Katy’s with him now... I guess she sold the property she owned in France? And Tricky’s threatening to put her out on the streets... hmmm. Well, I guess everything’s come full circle, not, like, in any of the ways we wanted, but, err MOUNTAINS.

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Apart from the slight ball drop at the end, this is honestly a great film, and easily Prince’s best. I love it as is, but I do hope one day we get the original colour print version and the alternate ending that was apparently shot but not used.

[surveysonfleek]

1002.

Does your alarm clock wake you with music, or with an annoying buzz sound? calming music.

Has anyone ever mistaken you for being anorexic? nope.

Can you completely annihilate the first Mario game in less than an hour? maybe not in less than an hour but definitely in one sitting!

Do holidays make you giddy? yes and nervous. last year i bought xmas presents early which was great lol. 

Which game would you love to play as a contestant on The Price Is Right? any of them which guarantees me a good prize just for playing.

Do you complain about public restrooms when they are nasty? alwaysssss. only to my friends of course.

Do you know how to play roulette? yes.

When you broke stuff in the house as a child, did you blame it on siblings? no. i didn’t break stuff often either.

Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? idk what that is.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Which one are you more scared of? probably lions. 

When was the last time you looked at a book with hidden pics (ex.I-Spy)? about a couple months ago, i saw a where’s wally book in a store.

Do you know what is on your state’s quarter? no.

Quick! Write me a haiku: no. haha i actually don’t know what the formula is.

Describe the best use that you’ve found for duct tape: for sticking things.

Do you wrap gifts or use gift bags? wrap if it’s a box or prism. i already suck at wrapping so if the gift is a weird shape i’ll resort to gift bags.

Geico commercials: annoying or funny? haven’t seen any.

What infomercial almost has you convinced to buy the product it is selling? i never watch them. it’s been years.

What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? red rooster. it’s not that the food isn’t good, it’s just expensive and basic.

Did you cut the hair of your Barbie dolls to give them new ‘do’s? i have, yes haha.

Do you go to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night for no reason? i have while i was in hawaii coz my boyfriend and i had jetlag and were up at 2 in the morning. it was fun.

Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? the deep sea in general scares me.

Has the legacy of Jason Voorhies been taken too far? idk.

Ever contemplated climbing a water tower? no.

If you were at a beach, would you write something in the sand and leave it? lol i think i have before.

Did/Do your teachers write on dry-erase boards or chalkboards? dry erase.

Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? no. actually yes! i bought three phone rings for $3 from hong kong and they never came. i complained and the seller said they’d send it again and it still never came...

What food/drink must you get at a baseball game? fries or hotdogs.

If you get a call that says “Unknown”, do you answer it? not usually unless i’m expecting a call.

What do you do to make yourself feel better when you’re stressed out? sleep it off or clean.

Would you rather have 12 fingers or webbed toes? webbed toes.

Are you allergic to any foods? no.

Do you have any bobble head figures? no.

Have your parents ever left you somewhere without realizing it? yes haha.

Who’s the best late-night TV host? i like kimmel and fallon.

Fruit Roll-Ups or gummy snacks? i hate both.

Do you think riding on trains will ever be popular again? like to commute? of course.

Have you ever been to Hollywood? yes.

Have you ever caught an editing mistake in the newspaper? yes.

Would you rather have a paintbrush, a pen, a microphone, or a guitar? pen.

What’s your reason for getting up in the morning? i’ve had enough sleep.

Who is there in your life that you just couldn’t live without? family, my boyfriend and friends.

Do you like to look at old photos, remembering all the good times? sure.

Ideally, what would you like your future to consist of? happiness, success and good health for myself and family.

Do you really think it’s going to happen? if i work hard enough.

Is there anything you just cannot leave the house without? my phone.

What is more important to you? Yourself, your family, or your friends? family.

Where is the one place in the world that you’d always be happy to be? home.

Any particular reason? idk, it’s just... home.

When was the last time you smiled, for real? when i was with my bf tonight.

What/who was it that had made you smile? we were making each other laugh.

Ever felt like nothing seems to be going your way? yes.

Ever found yourself randomly smiling for no reason? not lately.

Ever been day-dreaming and didn’t realize someone was talking to you? yes.

Do you like to watch the sun rise/set? of course, when i manage to catch it.

Have you ever been to a waterfall? If not, would you like to? yes.

Would you ever want to go swimming with dolphins? i wouldn’t say no. i heard it’s expensive though.

Do you like walking through forests/ares with lots of trees? not really.

Would you prefer to walk along a sunny beach, or up some hills? a beach, it’s flatter lol.

Ever been anywhere really strange? yes. an underground cave.

Ever been anywhere you’d never like to go again? hmm...yeah this motel in connecticut. connecticut in general. it was cool but i’d have no reason to go back and visit.

Is there anywhere you have to go regularly that you really don’t like? doctors. it’s not that regular but it’s just a hassle to have to go in, wait, be seen for less than five minutes with a simple treatment.