#my mom propped the gate open with a chair so the mom would leave the pool area

[stray-kaz]

On Blind Faith : a Matt Murdock x reader FF : TWO

Matt walked with you out of the bar; you noticed he didn’t even bother with the cane.

“Why are you trusting me with this?” he asked you. “We’ve just met.”

You shrugged.

“Foggy trusts you, so that’s good enough for me. And you’re a lawyer not a mobster, so you know.”

He smiled faintly.

“So how did you end up with Leo Ricci? Someone who grew up with Foggy doesn’t seem the type.”

You smiled ruefully.

“A lot of girls go through a bad boy phase, Matthew. Unfortunately for me, Leo turned out to be not just a bad boy, but a bad guy. He was lovely at first, you know. He wooed me properly, showered me in chocolates and roses. But when I became pregnant with Luca, he changed, got mean. The first time he hit me, I knew I had to get out of Chicago.”

Matt’s hand gripping the folded up cane tensed at the thought of a man abusing you.

“Did you make a plan?” he asked next, struggling to maintain an even tone.

You nodded and your shoulder bumped his arm.

“I have a cop friend in Chicago. She helped get me out after Luca was born. She snuck us out of the hospital.”

“Why didn’t you leave before then?”

“We needed time to figure out where I would go and we needed Leo and his family not to suspect anything. If they realised I was planning to leave, they would have killed me, Luca or no Luca.”

The way you spoke was neutral, practiced, but Matt could hear the skip in your heartbeat and smell the fear you still had of losing your son. He turned toward you, your body’s heat map blurring like fire across his vision.

“So you came home” he prompted, after a short silence.

“So I came home. Here I have Foggy and his family, and my parents, too. Here I have people looking out for me and I’m not alone.”

“And now you have lawyers, if something were to go wrong.”

You raised your eyebrows and then remembered he couldn’t see that.

“I can’t pay you. Luca and I are living with my mom and dad, and my job doesn’t pay much.”

Matt shrugged.

“Foggy and I do a lot of pro bono work” he told you. “People pay us in chickens and cake.”

You laughed, caught off guard, and he grinned, dimples showing and weakening your knees. You stumbled a bit and he caught your wrist, propping you up with his arm.

“Thanks” you mumbled. “I could pay you in songs?”

Matt’s grin softened down to a smile and he nodded.

“Songs would be great. You sing any Stevie Wonder?”

“Why, ‘cause he’s blind?” you retorted.

“Yes” he shot back.

You snorted, amused.

“Sometimes.”

“Van Morrison?”

“I do a mean ‘Brown Eyed Girl’.”

He laughed, fingers slipping off your wrist; you instantly missed their warmth.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me all the way home.”

“It’s not safe for you to be out here on your own at night.”

“No offense, but you are blind. How could you protect me from an evil assailant?”

“No offense taken. But I can handle myself.”

You shrugged, not quite believing him. You felt safe, though, walking in the dark with this man you’d only just met.

Fifteen minutes passed and you stopped with your hand resting on a low gate that opened onto a short path leading up to the steps and front door of a skinny brownstone. A light burned yellowly under the eaves.

“This is me” you told Matt, just as the door flung wide and a harried middle aged woman stepped out, a crying baby in her arms.

“Thank goodness you’re home!” she exclaimed. “Luca has a cold and he won’t take a bottle. He only wants you.”

You glanced at Matt, whispered a hasty goodbye and thank you, and rushed up the path. Luca’s cries faded when he touched his mother’s face and Matt smiled to himself as he turned away, the image of you surrounded by flames branded in his mind.

You sat in a rocking chair by the window in your childhood bedroom, now shared with Luca. You fed him quietly in the dark room, the space illuminated only by the moon above.

Thoughts of Matt continued to swirl in your mind: how carefully he had treated you, his smile, how well his shirt fit across his shoulders and the casual strength he had displayed to keep you from falling. You wished he had let you see his eyes, blind as they were. He was the first man to show you any genuine interest since Luca’s birth, but you wondered with a wry, deprecating smile what he would think if he knew that you sometimes still leaked milk through your bras.

Luca pulled away, his milk drunk face calm and sleepy, little snuffles issuing through his nose. You lifted him and gently set him down in his crib, his arms and legs star fishing.

With a sigh, you removed your boots and padded into the adjoining bathroom to wash away your makeup, another day, another gig done.

On the other side of the city, Matt was stripping his clothes for bed, his thoughts occupied also with you. He wanted to see your tattoos, not just know they were there on your skin, part of you. He wanted to hear you sing again, talk to him again. He wanted to knock heads with Leo Ricci, he wanted to protect you. He wanted to lay you down on his bed and map out every inch of your body with his hands and maybe his mouth, too. He wanted to know how well you sang when you shattered apart.

He sighed and sank down onto the bed, leaning over to switch off the bedside lamp. The room seeped away into an even deeper darkness and he closed his eyes, giving himself over to it.

Tagging: @succsessions​

[lesbiten]

saved a family of ducks today B) love wins

[phantomrose96]

Sight Unseeing

Vlad settled into the plush of his red velvet chair, half a glass of red wine deep into the sort of novella whose order he made untraceable to his own name. He swirled his glass, book propped expertly against one raised thigh such that it took only one free hand to flip the pages.

“Raphael,” Vlad muttered, chuckling to himself, enjoying the singsong of his own words. “Such a mad dog. Yours is a passion I admire. If only women of the real world were quite so easy to woo with passion alone.”

Vlad shifted his knee, and near toppled his book with a jolt from the ringing doorbell.

The ringing petered out. A quick glance to his watch confirmed it was late – well past 10. Much too late for any workplace nuisance or hand-wringing business partners. Vlad conjured the image of some hapless solicitor who had trekked his whole driveway, but that would require making it past the gate, and the dogs…

The bell rang again. Curiosity stirred Vlad’s tongue. “Coming.” And he unhitched his one ankle from its resting place over his knee, and stood, and stowed his book beneath the velvet cushion for good measure.

Wine still in hand, Vlad set to work on the front door latches. He got three latches deep before a gust of air whisked past Vlad’s ear. He froze in place before turning. Danny floated in front of him, doused in half-translucence. His green eyes stared unblinking.

“Ah yes, that would have been my first guess. Though I really would like you to respect the door locks next time.”

“I’m not here for banter, Vlad.”

“Oh? What are you here for? A cup of tea and a nice talk?”

Danny did not answer immediately. His eyes skimmed his whole periphery, darting with urgency, hunted.

“My parents know.”

“Pardon?”

“They know I’m Phantom.”

“Ah,” Vlad answered, surveying Danny. “And I take it from context that they did not take well to the idea of their only son being half ghost?”

“They—I don’t know how they took it. I bolted before they could do anything, or shoot.” Danny swooped toward the window. He peered out in search of headlights.

“And you are here because?”

“Because going to Tucker or Sam would be the obvious choice. I don’t want to drag them down with this, especially if my parents show up with weapons. And if you don’t cooperate I’ll out your identity to them too, okay, so—I just need some time to figure out the right way to explain to them what I am so that they definitely get it and don’t think I’m a ghost possessing their son or lying to them or—”

“—How, exactly, did they find out?”

Danny flinched ever so slightly. He turned a fraction toward Vlad again. “I accidentally transformed in front of them.”

“Oh?”

“It was stupid. There wasn’t even a ghost I just wanted to fly around for a bit. I thought they’d gone to bed but they were both down in the basement working on something – they’re never quiet down there and it was silent down there so I didn’t think they were down there! And I transformed in the kitchen and looked over my shoulder and they were right there at the top of the stairs leaving the basement and I locked eyes with Mom and…”

“And?”

“And I bolted.”

Vlad processed this, quietly. He took another sip from his glass. “Has Maddie tried calling you?”

Danny patted at his pocket, finding his leg dematerialized He popped it back into existence and pulled the phone from its loop. “No.”

“Any texts?”

“No.”

“Any confirmation from her, at the moment you saw her, that she saw what you did?”

“There’s no way she didn’t. They were in plain view. I was right there. And I transformed in front of them.”

“Hmm,” Vlad answered. He patted at his own robe pocket and unsheathed his own phone. He flipped it open and started dialing.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling your house phone.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” A tense weight of nothing swelled in the silence, punctured by the tinny ring of Vlad’s phone. The seconds ticked away, and the phone clicked.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Maddie! It’s Vlad. I hope I’m not bothering you too late?”

“Oh, no, no actually Jack and I have been working on this—”

“Wonderful! Actually, is Danny awake? If so I’d like to speak to him. Otherwise you could pass along the message.”

“Danny? Hmm… well he’s not in the lab. Jack do you know if Danny’s awake? … Give me a moment, I’ll check the living room.”

“Wonderful darling, thank you so much!” And Vlad clicked the phone shut and stowed it back in his pocket.

For the next several moments, he and Danny only stared at each other.

Steadily, Danny sunk from the air. His boots hit the floor, and a ring of white light swept around him, and he stared forward.

“…There’s no way they didn’t see. There’s no way they’re not out there looking for me right now. I transformed in front of them.”

“And you think I haven’t, Daniel?”

Danny’s eyes flickered a fraction wider. He said nothing.

Vlad paced forward, glass swirling, eyes focused beyond Danny. “19 years old, in a horrific lab accident, gravely ill and split from my humanity. You think Jack and Maddie didn’t witness terrible things? You think they didn’t see me ripped back and forth between ghost and human? These powers are not easy to control when you first get them. You know this. I know this.”

“So they…” Danny shook his head. “They know you’re Plasmius?”

“They most assuredly do not.” Vlad paused, and pivoted in place so that he faced Danny fully, his undivided focus pinned to him. “Jack and Maddie both have one specific trait that, unfortunately, makes them well-suited to each other. They only see what they want to see, Daniel.” Vlad stood taller. He set his wine glass down, and rings of black swept across his body, leaving something ghoulish in their wake. “Surely you think they’d understand they did something horrific to me but seeing that, believing that, which was right in front of their faces was unthinkable to them. Jack bounced up to my door 20 years later as if nothing was ever amiss between us.”

Vlad folded his arms behind his back, shoes clacking as he walked toward the library. His cape billowed behind him. “I have declared my love for Maddie on just about every occasion I see her and yet, I never get an answer. Never a no never a yes never an acknowledgement. I am not subtle. This is not a miscommunication. Perhaps, sometimes, in private she can recognize the truth of the situation. Maybe sometimes her rejections of me are intentional. But it’s always easier, at the end of the day, for them to erase this from their thoughts. Because it is uncomfortable, and unpleasant, and unhappy to dwell on.”

Vlad paused, feet against the plush library rug now. He pulled a book from the nearest shelf, one on ghost theory, from 20 years back. Its pages were yellowed with age. “Maybe denial is a trait necessary to be a ghost enthusiast in the first place. The field requires ignoring every ounce of evidence stacked in front of you and believing only in what you want to believe is true. It shouldn’t be surprising they’re like this. We’re… like this, Daniel, my son.”

Danny moved closer. He pulled the book from Vlad’s hands so that he could lock eyes again. “So they’re a little out of touch with reality. But my parents aren’t so stupid that they—”

“I never said they were stupid. Well—Jack is. But Maddie is brilliant. These traits are not mutually exclusive. She is capable of understanding most anything. But she will only believe the things that make her happy and comfortable to believe.” Vlad picked the book from Danny’s hands and slotted it back into the shelf. “They saw you transform, Daniel. And it was simply better for them and everyone if they chose not to believe what they saw. After all, like you said, Maddie is not dumb. I think she would know what it takes to turn a human half-ghost. I think she would understand the role she, and her portal, played in killing you.” Vlad cracked a grin that did not touch his cold eyes. “She did exactly the same with me, after all.”

Vlad swept an arm out, and the black rings engulfed him once more. In their wake they left his human self, red robe cinched at the waist. Vlad returned to his chair, and dug his stowed book from the cushion, and kicked his feet up on the ottoman before it.

“Stay here the night, if you like. I don’t mind. Return home whenever you feel like returning home. I promise nothing different is waiting for you there. You’ll walk in, and everything will be the same as it always was. It can be like that forever, if you want. You can be as clumsy with your identity as you want. Nothing will change. Not unless you force it to.”

Danny backed away. Silently, his white rings engulfed him, and he kicked himself to the air. Indecisive green eyes pinned Vlad for a moment, before skittering elsewhere, before his body whole spun and shot with hardly a noise out the still locked front door.

Vlad let out a humorless chuckle. He thumbed the book open again, flipping to his same position, and resumed his evening as if nothing had even happened.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

Warning: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader relationship.

Summary: After freeing the widows from chemical subjugation and destroying the red room, you and Yelena finally settle down.

Part 1 & Part 2

The widows welcome you, the ones you trained with and the ones you didn’t. After Dreykov was gone and you had nothing but time. Melina and Alexei go to work on replicating the antidote. Creating enough to free all chemically subjugated agents.

It’ll take time. But the more you free the more are willing to help. Some of the widows just leave once they are given freedom. Ready to wash their hands of all of this and start living. You understand that more than anything. Eventually the operation is running on such a large scale they hardly need you at all.

Natasha hasn’t reached out since you separated after the red room. Probably off with the Avengers trying to save the world again. No one blames her, for her inability to be still. Not even Yelena.

“So,” you plop down on the couch beside Yelena. “What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring up at the ceiling. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to make it this far.”

“Yeah.” You tug at a loose strand of her dirty blonde hair. “That makes two of us.”

“We could pretend to be normal.” Yelena offers. “What would a normal person do?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “I’ve never been one.”

“Maybe...settle down.” Yelena’s eyes are far away.

“Would you have wanted to-“ You break off, trying to sort out the words. “I mean if you could…would you have a baby?”

She raises her brows, “I never thought about it.” A long pause. “I wouldn’t know how to be a mother.”

Neither would you. You’ll never be right. Whatever that is, was, or might have been. Always a little too guarded and rough around the edges. “You never waste time thinking about things you can’t have.” You sink farther into the cushions, her pinky skates over your own. Taking the invitation you twine your fingers together.

“I thought about you.” She lowers her eyes to the coffee table. “Everyday. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I-“

“The red room took that from me too.”

You shake your head at her. “They can never take anything from you or anyone else ever again,” you whisper. “And to be clear you can have me.”

A laugh rumbles out of her chest at the news. “I can?”

“I mean if you still want me.” You tease, “I know that the chase is half the fun for you. So I can keep on running. I’m one foot out the door-“

“I am tired of running.” Yelena murmurs, curling up against your side.

“Me too.” Your chin rests atop her head.

“Then stop doing it!” She scolds, slapping your arm playfully in retaliation.

“I will if you will.” You know why she runs. The same reason you do. Because you’re afraid. That maybe some parts of you are too broken to love.

She mulls it over for a moment. “Truce. I don’t run. You don’t run.”

“Deal.” You give her fingers a squeeze.

“Except into the face of danger.” She clarifies, only half kidding. “Then we run, straight ahead.” Yelena motions with her free hand. “But together.”

“Together.” You agree, with a soft smile.

“We could get a dog.” The tone of her voice tells you that she is invested in the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog.” You prop your feet up on the coffee table.

Yelena hates anything but a straight answer. Still feeling the need to convince you, she presents the facts. “Dogs are really cool! They have special powers.”

You chuckle, “dogs do not have powers.”

“Yes!” Yelena argues, “they can predict natural disasters and judge character.”

“That’s a special power?” You quip, “I can do that too.”

She grumbles under her breath.

“I want one.” You sigh. Feeling all the tension leave her body.

“I knew you did.” She smiles, contently.

———————————————————————

Dogs might have powers, but the only thing your puppy currently seems to posses is the ability to chew up anything in her path.

“Yelena have you seen my-“ you pause, taking in the scene before you, “shoes.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yelena holds up a hand.

The tiny puppy beside her squeaks, not quite a bark yet. Your demolished sneaker tumbling to the ground.

“What happened?” You run both hands over your face.

She sweeps the dog into her arms. “I told Fanny we could go for a walk once you got out of the shower. She was excited, Y/N! She was trying to bring your shoes to you. But she got distracted, only a little.”

“A little?” You can’t help but smile.

“Look at this face,” Yelena waves Fanny’s paw at you. “You can’t be mad at this face. Tell her girl. Say, you can’t be mad at me Mom, I’m trying my best.” She brings the dog closer.

You raise a hand to pet Fanny lightly. Yelena’s right of course, there is no being mad at that face. “Let me find a pair of shoes that isn’t mangled. Then we’ll go for a walk.”

“I’ll wait with Fanny.”

“Of course you will.” You retreat to your bedroom. Rummaging through the closet in search of some sort of footwear. You’d settle for slippers at this point. Fanny joins you after a moment. Nuzzling at your ankle as she whines.

It’s not everyday that she follows you, she is Yelena’s dog and never lets you forget it. “You’re really excited aren’t you?” More whining. You scoop Fanny up. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You huff, finally locating a pair of sandals. Slipping them on quickly so you can return to Yelena and gloat about being Fanny’s favorite. “Hey baby, I don’t know what you did, but look.” You smile, gazing up as you present the dog…to an empty room. That’s odd. Maybe she’s waiting outside.

You grab the leash Yelena abandoned on the countertop, securing it to Fanny’s collar. “Come on girl. Let’s go find Mama. Where’s Mama?”

Fanny follows you out the door, onto the walkway.

“Yelena?”

Nothing.

You scan the area, no sign of her. “Ok…” Back into the house, you check the bathroom next.

“Yelena!” You shout, knowing you’ll feel stupid once she replies. But she doesn’t.

A buzzing from the cell phone in your back pocket draws your attention. You set Fanny down gently, accepting the call and moving the device up to your ear. “Alexei?”

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” His voice booms through the speaker.

“Are you ok?” You ask immediately. Leaning down to grab the television remote, turning to channel thirteen, still broadcasting it’s usual gameshow.

“I am alone.” He cries through the speaker. “Melina left me with her pigs.”

“What do you mean she left you?” Something is very wrong.

“She disappeared.” He says somberly, “didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The dramatic monologue continues. “I give her back rub every night and then-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Absolutely not.” Under no circumstance is he going to tell you what happens next.

“I have made mistakes, but this! This is cruel.” Alexei, clearly distraught begins cursing in Russian.

“Alexei, I know you’re upset but I need you to listen.”

“What?” He asks. “What is it?”

“Yelena is gone too.” You inform him. Your eyes flicker over the words at the bottom of your tv screen. “People disappeared all over the world.”

You fall back onto the couch, feeling all the air leave your lungs.

More hysteria on the other end of the line. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna find Natasha. Maybe she knows something.” Assuming that Natasha is still here.

“What about me?”

“Come to Ohio. You can dog sit.” You offer, familiar numbness seeps into your limbs.

“I have nine pigs!” Alexei shouts back.

“We have a backyard, don’t worry.” You hang up before he has a chance to argue.

You return to the call screen. Scrolling to find a different contact. Pressing the dial button beside her name.

It rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello.”

“Natasha,” you let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What the hell happened?”

——————————————————————

The Avengers fortress isn’t exactly how you imagined. Not very homey.

You park your car in the lot. Removing your keys from the ignition and stowing them in your back pocket. The clear rectangular keychain with a picture of you and Yelena inside sticks out. Clinking when you round the vehicle to retrieve Fanny from the passenger seat. “Come on, Fanny.”

She wags her tail, waiting expectantly to be carried.

“You’re spoiled, you know.” You sigh, taking the puppy into your arms and closing the door behind you.

The front gate is open but Natasha takes a moment to locate. She cut her hair up to her shoulders, dyed it blonde. “Hello stranger.”

“You got a dog.” She says, in greeting.

“Yeah.” You reply, not in the mood for small talk. “It was Yelena’s idea.”

“I knew she’d sucker you into that.”

“It’s not like she could make me do anything I didn’t want to.” Your finger slides along the edge of the metal table Natasha’s seated behind.

She barks a laugh, “that’s a lie.”

Maybe so. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Still cool. I like the hair too,” you motion toward her blonde locks.

“That’s not really mine either, is it?” She remarks.

“Is anything ever really ours?”

“No.” She frowns. “I guess not.”

“What happened?” You ask again.

“It’s a long story,” Nat crosses both arms over her chest. “You might want to take a seat.”

You clear your throat, pulling out the chair beside her. Fanny curls up in your lap, curious eyes darting about every now and then. You tell yourself it’s because she’s in a new place, but part of you knows, she’s looking for Yelena.

Natasha stares down at her hands. “Have you ever heard of infinity stones?”

You shake your head. “Must be an avenger thing.”

“There were six of them, scattered all over the galaxy. If a person has all six they can use them in anyway they choose. Thanos, used them to eliminate half of all living creatures.”

“Are you the only one left?” You lean in.

“No.” She sniffs, blinking away tears. “There’s others.”

“So where are they?” The place looks abandoned. “Why aren’t you charging into battle?”

“Because we lost. Probably the worst we’ve ever lost.” Natasha clenches her jaw. “By the time we found Thanos again he already destroyed the stones.”

“We’ll try again.” You decide immediately. This isn’t over.

“Will we?” Natasha shakes her head with a smirk.

“If she was gone for good I would know it.” You tell her truthfully. “I would feel it, in my heart and I don’t.”

“You didn’t see it happen. I saw him snap his fingers and-“

You lay your hand over hers, squeezing tight.

“Did you see her go?” She asks, voice just above a whisper. “Yelena. Did you see her?”

“No.” You confess, “I didn’t see.”

Natasha closes her eyes. “That’s why you still have hope.”

“Look maybe you’re right.” You shrug, “even so, now seems like a really stupid time to give up.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fanny.” You inform her.

“Come on.” She rolls her blue eyes. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you didn’t actually name a dog after one of those stupid aliases Rick made me.”

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“I guess a dog’s better than a pig.” Natasha reasons. “Are they still here?”

“Not Melina.” You break the news quickly. Like tearing off a bandage. “But Alexei and all nine of her pigs are on their way to our house in Ohio.”

“Sounds crowded.”

“Always room for one more.”

——————————————————————

You stay like that for a long time. Hopeful. Sure that this was all some nightmare that you could wake up from; fight your way out of.

And then five years passed.

Now you come to see Natasha twice a month, just to check in. Alexei and his pigs have taken up permanent residency in the home you bought with Yelena. As for you, you bounce around. Never staying in one place too long.

“Any news?” You wonder, leaning against the doorframe of Natasha’s meeting room.

“No.” She bites out. Kicking her foot up on the desk. “You should move on.”

“Is that what you call this?” You flick your wrist in her direction. “Crying into a peanut butter sandwich.”

“It’s therapeutic.” She waves the bread at you. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” You take a seat, reaching across to make a sandwich of your own. “It’s not the sandwich’s fault.”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” Steve says, announcing his presence. Captain America is as self righteous as ever.

“Didn’t you grieve for a century over a girl you kissed one time?” You arch a brow at him, licking wayward peanut butter from the pad of your thumb. “Five years is just a drop in the bucket.”

Steve purses his lips, you have a point. “It wasn’t a century.”

“Close enough.” You mumble around a mouthful of your dinner.

“Want a bite?” Natasha offers half of her sandwich to him.

“No thanks.” He takes a step closer. “I’d offer to make you a real dinner, but already look pretty miserable. Where’s your dog?”

“Visiting her granddad.” Everyone and their mother loves that damn dog.

“Oh yeah, my great adversary.” How could he ever forget. “Is he still wearing that stupid suit?”

“I’m pretty sure the suits are stowed away. But it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Your mind wanders to the vest. The one Natasha returned to you after Yelena was gone. The one you retired because it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does.

Most things remain untouched in the Ohio house. Your pictures. Your memories. Your plans. You can’t get rid of them. Can’t stomach being around them either.

Someone, a man, alerts the security cameras, pounding on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello! Can you hear me?”

“How old is this video?” Steve asks, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s the front gate.” Natasha breathes, enlarging the image.

“Do we know him?” You squint at the man in question.

“It’s me, Scott Lang, Antman. I met you guys at the airport in Germany a few years ago. I had a mask on, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.” He rambles on.

Natasha presses the access panel, opening the gate.

You straighten yourselves out, before he makes it down the long hallway into the common room.

Scott paces, a lot. Nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Scott.” Steve finally cut in. “Are you ok?”

“Have any of you ever studied quantum physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok. Alright so, five years ago. Right before Thanos. I was in the quantum realm. The quantum realm is like it’s own little microscopic universe. To get in there you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my uh-“ he trails off. “She was my…she was- she was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry that must have been a long five years.” Natasha apologies.

“That’s the thing, for me it wasn’t.” Scott replies. “It was five hours.”

“What a trip.” You snort, absently toying with your belt loop.

“The rules of time are different there. See everything is unpredictable.” He explains, getting distracted by the food in your hand. “Are you gonna finish that?”

“I guess not.” You hold it out to him.

He accepts, gratefully stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“Scott! What are you talking about?” Steve demands.

“So what I’m saying is time works differently in the quantum realm. The only problem is we don’t have a way to navigate it. But if we did, if we could somehow control the chaos; to enter the quantum realm at a certain point in time and exit at another point in time…like,” Scott locks eyes with you then. “Like before Thanos.”

You nod.

“Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve sighs, running a hand over his tense forehead.

“No. No of course not. Not like a time machine but like a…yeah.” There’s no other word for it. “Like a time machine. I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it! There gotta be some way.”

“Scott,” Natasha calls his attention. “I get emails from a raccoon. So nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“So who do we talk to about this?” His eyes flicker between the three of you.

“Don’t look at me.” You hold both hands up. “That’s way above my pay grade.”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @3and30aresoultwins

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (prologue)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. 

This is not what you meant by family.

(Based on the anime and game Brother’s Conflict, but with a twist.)

Prologue

Genre: Fluff | romance | later angst and smut. PG

WC: 2k

Warnings: For this chapter, none other than cursing.

(After some readers wanted me to post Oppa! on Tumblr, I have delivered! I really hope y’all like this haha)

[ The prologue delivers hints on who each brother will be. These hints will be bolded. Some will be very apparent, some will not. ]

Rubbing your head, your eyes glazed over the notes you took from yesterday’s lecture in preparation for today. Were you on drugs when you wrote these? It looked like chicken scratch. Was that drool in the corner?

Your ears perked up at the strains of loud music coming out of your friend’s Airpods. Hyerim, your closest friend at University, seemed oblivious as she bopped her head to the hard beat. Several classmates around the lecture hall noticed too, yet weren’t as accommodating as you and sent judgemental looks towards Hyerim.

“Hyerim,” you whispered, aware that class was starting in a few minutes. She didn’t respond, still nodding along to the music.

Pursing your lips, you plucked the small pod out of her ear. “Hyerim, your music—”

She gasped, eyes lighting up in excitement. “You liked it? Okay, so I was listening to this random rapper on SoundCloud—”

“Your music's too loud —” you hissed.

“—but the real feature is the producer, who made this beat. His name is Yoongi—” Hyerim continued on obviously, caught up in her own world.

“—that’s lovely, but can you turn your music down—” you pestered, looking around worriedly.

“—but his producer name is Gloss and he’s so talented and hot and his voice —”

Seeing the majority of the seats in the hall being filled up, you clamped your palm over her lips. She let out a whimper, finely shaped brows frowning at you.

“Have you not noticed the five separate glares you are currently getting at this moment?” you said between gritted teeth, enunciating each constant hard. You stared down each person around you who was giving Hyerim looks and, embarrassed, they averted their eyes and busied themselves with something.

“Oh wait, what?” Hyerim exclaimed. Closing a fist over her AirPod, the music continued and her eyes widened as she realized how high she had turned up the volume.

Hyerim turned to the person on her other side. “I am so sorry,” she said apologetically, the random student smiling awkwardly in acceptance.

Rolling your eyes with an unbidden smile poking at the edge of your lips, you turned back to the disaster of your notes. How were you supposed to understand this lecture when you barely wrapped your head around the last one? However, you honed in on your Calculus woes to ignore how your phone burned in your pocket and the latest text you got from your father...

So focused on your lamentation, you didn’t notice the boy behind you clear his throat. Nor did you notice the second or third time he did, each one getting progressively louder. As you attempted to retrace the argument on your paper, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

Whipping your head around, you craned your neck upwards to see where the tap had come from. To your surprise, you saw a very cute-looking boy, bangs pulled into a top knot, smiling apologetically at you from behind you.

“Hi! Yeah, do you need anything?” you smiled.

A blush rose on his chiseled cheekbones and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m super sorry to bother you about this, but I dropped my charger right next to your chair. I- uh, would you mind—?”

“Of course! No worries, it happens,” you comforted, bending down to get the coiled white wire from where your bag sat. “Here you go.”

He got up from his seat to hunch over the lecture hall desk to meet you in the middle. You eyed the large difference between each of your hands’ as you handed back the charger, as well as how huge his shoulders seemed up close.

“T-Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” you replied, turning around to open your laptop.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyerim’s mouth partially open in disbelief.

“You need something?” you prodded.

“I—” she took a glance at the boy behind you, as if confirming something— “I’ll tell you later.”

Shrugging, you zeroed in at the lecturer at the front of the hall.

“Alright, so what was that about?”

Your Calculus lecture had just ended, and the two of you were in the mob of students leaving the lecture halls to get to lunch.

Hyerim looked surreptitiously around, black bangs swishing around her face. She leaned in like she was about to share the juiciest piece of gossip, and you unconsciously did so too.

“Did you know who that is?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

You felt your forehead crease and you gave her a look. “No, I did not.”

“Really?!” Hyerim pitched her voice high in disbelief.

You gave her a dry look.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Sometimes, I swear you’re in your own world, Y/N.”

Incredulous, you opened your mouth to argue but she waved a hand in front of you.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, Y/N! How do you not know him?”

“Oh yeah,” you snapped your fingers. “He’s that Streamer dude, right? He games and shit.”

Hyerim nodded slowly.

However, you frowned. “I heard he was intimidating and cold and stuff. Are you sure that was him? Charger boy was super nice.”

“That’s the point! It was Jung Jungkook and I have never seen him acting this soft. What did you do, ma’am? Snap him? Flash him?”

“Who do you think I am?” you sputtered. “All I was doing was thinking about how much I hated Calculus, not— not seducing someone!”

Your friend gave you a suspicious look, but decided to let go of the topic. Shaking your head, you walked past the gates of Yonsei university and into the city proper on the lookout for your favorite food place. The beeping of horns, buzzing chatter, and the small of smog filled the air as you zig-zagged between side streets to avoid busy roads.

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you pushed your way through a mob of women all entranced by something above you. Since they were not moving, you huffed and decided to see what was worth all the hype.

It was a huge, flashing LED billboard that was the central focus of the square. On it, a very sensuous looking man with blond hair and a velvet, tight-fitting suit doing some very slick moves in a dark concert hall.

Happy Birthday Jimin! It read in bright white font.

“Wah, oppa is so handsome!” a woman, who must’ve been 5 years older than the man on the screen squealed behind her white medical mask. “I’m so glad our ad turned out well.”

Her friends agreed and ooh and aahed along with her. You turned around to see if Hyerim was following you but she stood, entranced, with the mob of women on the sidewalk.

“You can thirst over him later, preferably when I am well fed,” you snapped irritably, pulling at the pink flowy material of her blouse.

She pouted but acquiesced, taking your hand as you dragged her though the intersection. All you were focused on were some good dumplings, after the mental aerobotics Calculus had forced on you and the emotional stress your father was putting you through. As you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief as you saw no line.

Nestled between a large office building and a parking deck, this tiny Japanese restaurant was a favorite among Uni students for its cheap prices and good food. You usually had to arrive here early to beat the line of students and office workers that gathered here for their dinner breaks.

The cute sign that said Umaido flashed brightly above your head as you entered the restaurant. To the side of the main sigh, a smaller print reading “by the RM Group” glowed, subdued.

Waving over a pimply teen, you ordered two servings of gyoza and waited for Hyerim. She ordered a very conservative meal of sushi and some salad, and you both watched the waiter retreat. Something glossy caught the attention of your eye, and you saw some magazines on the shelf next to your head. The main one in the middle, which looked like a new age artsy publication with a cult following, was simply titled with a white V at the bottom corner.

Like a robot that was powered off, you collapsed in your seat and put your head in your hands. You really did not want to look at your phone.

“Was Calculus really that bad?” Hyerim winced in sympathy, neatly patting your head.

“It isn’t Calc,” you mumbled. “It’s Dad.”

Her expression turned down even more. “What happened?”

Lifting your head from your arms, you propped your chin on your palm and looked out the window. “You know, you’d expect for someone to give you important news in person or at least over a phone call, right?”

“Yeah?” Hyerim asked, lips pursed in confusion.

“Like, if you got remarried or something , you would at least tell your loved ones in person or at least over the phone, right ?”

“... Shit, Y/N.”

Fumbling for your phone in your bag, you ignored the notifications and pulled up your latest conversation. “Look what he texted me this morning!”

Hyerim took your phone and scrolled through it with a manicured fingernail.

Dad : I wish I could call you, but I’m somewhere with limited service.

Dad : I just wanted to let you know I got remarried to this amazing woman, Kim Seoyeon, a few days ago. We met and just clicked, something I haven’t felt since your mom.

Dad : She has seven sons, all of them are grown up. I’m worried about you living on your own, so I’d like you to move in with them. Details coming soon. Love you.

Hyerim was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My dad has gotten spontaneously remarried to some random woman and now wants me to move in with her sons. Like, geez, it’s not like life changing news was delivered to me in less than a hundred words!” you hissed, voice getting higher and tinged with a bit of hysteria.

“Your dad sucks,” Hyerim pronounced, taking a pointed sip of her iced water. “Seriously.”

“Hey, my dad is not that bad,” you defended. “It’s just… he’s a bit distant. Absent-minded. But he’s cared for me in the best way he could.”

“You and I have very different definitions of what constitutes good parenting, Y/N. This man left you largely on your own since you were five, and now he gets worried about you living on your own? Something's not right,” Hyerim retorted.

Ignoring her in favor of the food that arrived, you practically inhaled twelve of the fried gyoza. Rolling her eyes at your typical running-away behavior, she primly dipped a piece of sashimi in soy sauce and took a dainty bite.

“So? What’s the plan? Are you going to stage a rebellion and stay in your apartment, or go stay with some random men?”

Your response was cut off as cheers broke out from the corner of the restaurant, where a large group of men and women were huddled together.

“Cheers to our National win!” a man announced, his face already a bit flushed. “To Neuron!”

“To Neuron!” the group cheered loudly, and lifted up their shot glasses in celebration.

“To our leader, J-Hope!” the same man pronounced brightly, some sake sloshing over the tip of his cup.

“Hoseok!” the group whooped louder, more rounds going around.

As their cheers quieted down, you turned back to Hyerim. “I don’t know. I think I’ll decide when I meet them. They could either all be idiots or they could be chill. I really hope for the latter.”

“Good plan, good plan.”

An awkward silence permeated the booth since both of you were at a loss to say something.

“Onto lighter things, “ Hyerim forced out brightly, clapping her hands. “Let me tell you about my younger brother’s really hot doctor. His name is Dr. Kim and he’s tall and…”

As Hyerim continued to babble on about the tall, handsome pediatric doctor, you felt a buzz in your pocket.

Dad: Their address is 111 Hannam-dong, Yongsan-su

Dad: They’re ready for you.

Can you guess who each stepbrother is and what they do? Comment below!!

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions will be released on February 15th at 8pm ET. It’s about ~15k words of getting to know these boys. Please look out for it!

[spasmsofthought]

flashes. (dick grayson x reader)

I’m not really well-versed in DC, at all, but I wanted to give this a shot. let me know what you think! It’s a bit of a mess, so please take this with a grain of salt and some grace. sorry if he feels ooc; I tried my best but I am by no means an expert or even an amateur. please be kind. idk if i’ll write anymore for him, but i wanted to try. it might be trash but it’s out there now xo

-- 

It’s not like Gotham is known for being a walk in the park. The city is all alleys in the middle of the night, dark vapors rising from sewers, and secrets in the shadows. At least, in your experience. 

There were no gated communities or fences to keep the darkness out in the apartment complex you lived in with your family. Only survival and common sense keeps you returning to your bed and food on the table.

So, when your younger (genius) brother is offered a scholarship to Gotham Academy on what feels like a whim, the world shifts. 

When your mother still works, though, it means you are the de-facto adult during the day. Your job keeps your busy in the mornings, hers during the afternoon and night. You’re just getting into learning what it’s like to handle a job and bills of your own, even though you’re still living with your family (part of it is to save money, part of it is because you just don’t want to leave). Your family is the only real home you have ever known. Why leave to only find inadequate housing where you have to worry about your safety and theirs separately?

So, like every month, you swap out of your work clothes, put on your newest (at least 2 years old) pair of jeans on, the only blouse you own that hasn’t faded or stretched or shrunk from countless wash cycles, and grab the bag you’ve stored in its own special place in the cabinet by your family’s loud, old, run-down fridge. 

You chance a ride on the bus, hopeful for no public catastrophes today. You listen to your small, but loved, playlist through the one earbud that works during the ride and you almost want to leap with joy when you step back down on concrete like this is what it is like everyday.

The architecture is a thing to behold. There is no wonder why this is acclaimed as the most prestigious private school in Gotham. Light is everywhere, and it’s like the outside world doesn’t exist. Every month you step on this campus it’s like you’ve never seen it before.

The grounds are meticulously groomed, everything in lines and straight edges. Concrete and nineteenth century buildings both cast heavy, sharp shadows in the late afternoon sun. There are some students lingering about, all grouped up and chattering in their similar uniforms. Compared to public art, haphazard graffiti, and buildings of all shapes and sizes, this place feels foreign. Different. It makes you feel strange and unwelcome; like entering a different world altogether. 

When you enter the pristine, elegant office, the entrance door propped open, there’s two figures you immediately spot: the secretary and the man standing in front of her. Your brother is yet to be found. He’s running late again. 

“Hi, hun, take a seat,” Grace’s sweet voice soothes from her position behind the desk. “He should be here any minute.” The man standing in front and a little to the right of her glances behind for second, casually swiping a look at you, before he turns forward again. 

“Thanks, Grace,” You exhale as you sit down. 

The chairs are nice, soft fabric and cushioned, but small. You so desire to bring up a leg to draw close to you, but it’s impossible without making yourself a human pretzel. And you don’t want to dirty it with your less than perfect shoes so, instead, you chose to bring the bag onto your lap and you pick at your cuticles, resisting to bring your nail to your mouth and chew on it anxiously. 

There’s never been anyone else in here when you’ve come before. Grace can make polite chatter, but then she leaves you in relative silence. It makes you feel anonymous. The man uttering sweet words to the secretary and then glancing at you again before sitting down next to you does not. You stop fidgeting with your hands and intertwine them together instead. 

A flash of the ceiling’s fluorescent lighting on glass against your eyes is what you first get a taste of, then all polish and silver, or something like it, cradling a wrist. The watch looks heavy, expensive. It looks like it could buy your family a newer, safer, apartment in a suburbia far away from here. 

“Hey,” Smooth as honey it drips out, and you are drawn to blue eyes and ebony hair. There’s a softness to his face and his eyes are warm. It would only take an hour, you think before you stop the thought from going any further. An hour to do what? You’re not sure, but the list expands the longer you take him in.

The first thing you ever learned on the streets when you walked by yourself to work was how to be aware, vigilant; on guard. Men were unpredictable creatures who were driven by greed or lust or power, and any of the good ones were swooped up and carried away to better things or dead before any second glances could take place. Or carrying on just fine behind their high fences and impenetrable walls. Just because this one introduces himself first does not mean he has proven otherwise. 

“Hi,” is all you can offer, a quirk of lips to his gesture of kindness.

You glance towards to door before your eyes make their way back to him. The gesture doesn’t offend him. There’s a familiarity to his face, but you decide to not spend time right now trying to figure it out. It already only tells you one thing: this guy is way out of your league. 

Grace gets up from her seat, rounds her desk, and makes her way out of the office, leaving you two alone. You watch her the entire time. 

“You waiting for someone?” 

“Yeah,” You nod even as the word comes out, “My brother.” 

He leans back like he’s got all the time in the world, and there’s a perusal that makes you taste butterflies and gulp down caution at the same time. You wonder if he saw the scuff marks and stains on your worn-out sneakers, or if he notices that you still haven’t had the chance to wash your three-day old hair and that’s why it’s up and back, and that your blouse is definitely from the clearance rack at Goodwill.

“Your favorite one?” 

Out of self-preservation, you try to hide the reaction to the humor you feel, “My only one.”

“I think that’s the same thing.” You almost want to roll your eyes. But there’s a genuineness in his conversation, like he means the words he’s saying to you. Like this isn’t a game. 

“Sure,” You shrug, “You’re allowed to be wrong.” 

“My name’s Richard.” It’s old-fashioned. It’s something you don’t really hear rolled off of tongues in your neck of the woods, that’s for sure. A hand comes out and rests halfway between you and him, and it’s one of the most graceful things you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile. Your hands stay clasped in your lap. 

“You gotta earn a handshake from my sister,” A voice pops up from the open door way. You swing your head around and watch for a moment as your brother makes his way towards you.

“Hi, J,” Your stand, open your arms wide, bag moved from your lap into one of your hands. His solid presence allows a brief hug before he steps back again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude--” 

The man sitting next to you has chosen to rise as well and you’re closer than you thought you would be when you turn back to him. You notice now that your height means your eyes literally meet his lips straight on. There’s a curve of a smirk there for a flash of a second before it straightens back out into the smile you saw at first. The rest of your sentence is forgotten. He takes one, two, three steps back.

“You got them all?” The question saves you. Your brother pulls you back to him as you hand him the brown plastic bag. In it? His favorite snacks from the liquor store on the corner (the nearly sold-out, hard-to-come-by ones). 

“Every last one,” Your hands come to his cheeks, turning his face to each side.

You have to reach up now and it strikes you just how much he’s grown even in the past month. You both spend much of your time on the phone with one another. These monthly meetings set-up frequently enough for deliveries and some quick face-to-face time and seldom enough to avoid embarrassment (that’s what he says anyway). 

He brings the chip bag out and holds it up, “You even got these.” 

“Geraldo got them special order just for you.” 

“Tell the old man I said thanks,” He smiles like he’s seven again, spoiled and self-indulgent. “Richard” is still standing behind you and to the side, silent. You can feel his eyes flipping back and forth between the two of you. 

“Of course,” Your hands smooth over his shoulders and brush away imaginary dust. “Mom sends her love and says she’ll try and call you on her lunch in a few hours.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll make sure I answer.” 

“Thank you.” You exhale an affectionate sigh. 

Avoidant loner that your brother can be, there’s a reason you both want him here. He’ll be able to do the things you only dreamed of when you were his age. And one day, hopefully, you’ll all be out of this hellhole, onto better things. 

“I gotta go, but thanks for these. Even though you should be saving every penny,” He chides, holding up a finger like his words are somehow a threat. 

“Okay,” You chortle like you wouldn’t give everything up for your brother in a heartbeat. There’s another quick hug before he’s looking back at the man behind you, who is still standing there like some sort of stealth ninja. 

“Like I said man,” He nods and there’s something in his face that changes as he looks at “Richard”, “You gotta earn it.” 

It’s with those parting words that he begins to walk out. You stay stock still for a second before you leap after him, “I wanna hear all about what happened last week with Cara tomorrow on the phone!” 

Your brother, a mile away already on longs legs, shouts something indistinguishable back at you from down the hallway, his figure turning a corner.  

“Who’s Cara?” The voice brings your back to reality. 

You sweep your palms against your jeans and turn back to face the man with a three-piece suit and a watch that probably costs more than 20 years of your salary. Oh God. 

“This girl my brother asked out the other week. I bribed him with some of his favorites so he would tell me what went down.” You shrug your shoulders, not worried about spilling the tea about your brother’s romantic life. 

“Does he know that?” His arms seem to relax a little more and you think you could stare at him all day. 

“Eh,” You say, creeping back towards the open door. Your small crossbody bag is already on you and there’s no reason to sit back down. Richard follows you as you, apparently, both start to make your exit from the office. Nothing about it feels unnatural. “Sometimes you got to persuade instead of demand.” 

“Ha,” There seems to be something you are missing based on the way his mouth curves and his eyes spark, “That’s the truest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” 

“You’re welcome. That’s the only one that comes for free!” Your arms swing back and forth. “Anything else is gonna cost you.” 

The hallways usually feel like a labyrinth here, but you don’t feel lost this time. 

“What forms of payment do you accept?” You pretend to be thinking, but really you’re just glancing between the different features of his face. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone like him. You’re not sure you ever will again.  

“The bank’s closed right now, actually,” The wariness is back. This guy walks like he’s used to treading on perfectly paved gold streets in his shoes. All you’ve ever known is cracked cement and rusted pipes that burst underground. “But I think it’ll be back up and running soon.” 

He doesn’t falter and there’s no anger or hurt in his expression at the metaphorical rejection. Instead, it looks something like silent patience. Maybe even acceptance. This guy could totally not be interested and you could just be being (too) ambitious. The door to the open courtyard, and your way home, is already before you both. 

“It was nice meeting you Richard,” You say as you begin to take steps forward. Your hands nervously hold the strap across your torso. You take a few more steps before his words turn your head back to him. 

“You can call me Dick,” He says with ease. The tone makes you feel like he’s speaking a language you don’t really understand. His blue eyes seem like they’re on fire; a contradiction, you know. There’s something about him that almost makes you catch your breath. You’ve never been been winded by just looking before. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You offer, hands squeezing your bag strap. 

“I look forward to earning that handshake next time!” He calls out when you’re several feet away. 

I think you’ll earn a lot more than that, you almost say, but refrain. 

Instead, you wave back to him once before making your way out of the courtyard, caught between staring at your shoes and looking ahead to make sure you’re going to right way. You smile and daydream the entire bus ride home. Blue becomes your favorite color. 

[tobi-momo]

nobody seemed to hear us, but we said it.

PROLOGUE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER 02

— synopsis. back from Miyagi for a simple month, a welcome back party reignites the one relationship he wasn’t expecting. yours. it was obvious you hadn’t forgotten about what happened in high school, neither did he, but maybe he could mend the relationship back together. could he?

— warnings. cursing | drinking | implications of smoking (not from any of the characters, not depicted either) | kinda poor writing

— word count. 1.3k+

The alcohol was boring. The bitter taste of the IPA he took occasional sips of made his tongue sour and his eyes squint in annoyance. Everyone around him had been enjoying the event a lot more than him, he could see from the blaring music and the dancing and the shot-taking in the background of it all. It was boring. It was all so boring.

He nonchalantly shook girls off of his arm as they try to prop their breasts up and caress his bicep, “just wanting to dance”, and he rolled his eyes at the comments that his teammates (Koganegawa) throw at him, telling him he needs to lighten up, or he just needs to drink a little more to loosen out a bit.

“C’mon, Tsukki, just one dance?” A random girl had pleaded while hanging off his arm. Her lip poked out in a pout and her cheeks were red from the alcohol, but there was nothing in her eyes. He wondered if he had missed the gleam of desire or the sharp tint of lust in her pupils, but one glance confirmed that she just wanted to be with somebody for the night. He figured she was probably lonely, something he would never admit to.

“I’m good.” He returned his sights to the wall in front of him, half-covered in bouncing people and red Dixie cups being held in tight hands. He felt her hand slack down and her eyes roll, a grunt of irritation seeping into his hearing as she left. It was probably for the better, though.

He looked around briefly, only seeing his teammates either jumping around—Kyoutani, who grumped on the chair across the room—or people he had never seen in his life that just wanted to have a good time. If he didn’t see anyone he had met prior to leaving, what was the point of being here at all?

That was when he realized the hotel room got a little crowded as people kept entering, and he wondered if they might get kicked out if this continued. As he leaned against the wall, he questioned himself. He liked to do that. Maybe he should just leave. Although it would be a hard task, squeezing himself between sweaty bodies and he knew he’s probably going to get whipped in the face with hair and a couple of arms, but the air was getting too hot and he couldn’t breathe the same way with all the smoke in the air. So he got off against the wall and placed his half-empty beer bottle down on the dresser beside him, taking his jacket away from hanging on his arm and puts his arms through the sleeves, turning his torso sideways to walk out of the crowd with his body still intact. He cracked the door open, which surprisingly, there was no one before him in the hallway before he shut it behind him.

He could breathe again.

It was refreshing, even though the air wasn’t exactly chilly, it felt nice going down his esophagus and clearing his lungs. All he had to do was find his mother’s place, now. He walked down the hallway towards the elevator, pressing the L button before he backed up against the wall and waited for the doors to slide closed.

He wasn’t expecting anyone to stick their hand through the metal gates, but nevertheless, unexpected things happen all the time in the life of Tsukishima Kei, like the one time Kyoutani tripped over his shoelaces during practice before he jumped up to hit the ball, falling on his face in front of the whole team. He chuckled at that. The person who had been stumbling inside the metal box was heaving, frantically picking up their stuff as what he guessed they dropped just now—he wasn’t paying attention as he recalled a certain memory.

“Shit,” they whispered as they bent down to pick their phone up off the ground. They stood up after grabbing what they needed and flattened their clothes, then leaned against the elevator frame. He looked over with a newfound curiosity, his head tilted to the side while his eyes scanned over what they were wearing. Nothing extravagant, he noted as his eyes scooted upwards.

It was only when they lifted their head to say sorry that he lost his train of thought. Completely stumped, was he. Eyes wide with his breath slowed down almost to a complete stop, he stared.

And so did you.

• • • • • •

“You promise to love me forever, Tsukki?” You question with your hands carrying his, your eyes beading with excitement. He looked at you like he was nervous and he didn’t know what to say, his fingers curling in your palms and sweating a bit. Though, when he looked at you, he couldn’t stop the way your smile bled into his veins and rushed through his entire body, placing one of his own on his face.

He takes a deep breath and readjusts himself in your grip, “I promise!” He shouts it with determination, relishing in your giggles and throwing your hands up in the air with him.

The adults that surrounded you two, his parents and yours, clapped for you as if it were a link in matrimony. They cheered and laughed with you, praising you both for “being the luckiest people on Earth”. He smiles again, believing every word they said all the while holding your hand in his.

Lucky. Was that really what you were?

“Shit,” you mumbled again, only this time it came out as if you hadn’t seen something for a long time. He supposed he couldn’t blame you for that. “Ah, Tsukishima,” you marked awkwardly, dealing with the shocked stare he handed to you. “What-what are you doing here?” You stuttered over your words with an inhale as you get a grip on the event that just had to happen right now.

“Party.” He uttered out.

“What? You, a party? No way,” you offered a smile.

“Uh, I was just leaving,” he clarified, finally getting a grip on his vocal cords. “What floor?”

“Oh, just the Lobby, I’m heading home.” Your head turned back to the wall before you, waiting for the doors to close again.

“You still live here?” He muttered, a confused brow creasing his skin.

“Huh?” You turned your head again as the doors shut, thankfully not hard enough to cause whiplash, “yeah, I do. Pretty boring, right?” You chuckled it off, your lungs suffocating in the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I just haven’t had anywhere to go since college, so. But!” You raised a finger, not to let him jump to conclusions. “I have my own home. The market here is pretty cheap and I didn’t want to live with my mom.”

He nodded in understanding, finally allowing his neck to guide his head face-forward.

“What about you? I heard you joined a professional volleyball team, I’ve seen you on TV.”

“You’ve watched me play?” Even if your faces were turned away from each other, you knew exactly what his face looked like at that exact moment. You cursed yourself for it.

“Only a little bit, when I don’t have anything else to watch.” Did that come off as mean?

“I see. Well—”

The elevator dinged and the doors glided open with a crowd on the other side, rushing inside the box. You both dashed out of it, observing the rest of the passengers press practically all the buttons there was on the dashboard and argue over what food they wanted for dinner. Your heads slowly reclined back to each other, the same thing dressing both of your features. People.

A smug smile quirked the corners of his lips up before he turned around, walking towards the exit of the building. You slightly frowned at his hurry to get away from you, this feeling of something unresolved rising in your stomach.

“Hey,” you called over, watching his body halt and switch directions. “Wanna have a couple drinks?” You asked politely, raising your shoulders, “catch up?”

He nodded. Maybe the beer won’t taste that bad, he thought to himself while he waited for your legs to line up with his.

—author's note. HI IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE AND THE FIRST CHAPTER TOO 😩 ive been swamped in school work and im just trying to get caught up. im trying to make this story as captivating as possible, (yes i havent finished writing it, im that impulsive) so dont be afraid to send me suggestions! (i already have one and y/n is an artist 😌 - painter to clarify)

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fill out this form or send an ask to be a part of the taglist!

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[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART SEVEN

:Masterlist:

Warnings: none, I think :)

A/N: ahh we’re getting dangerously close to Unsaid Emily territory, folks. Also idk if I’ve said this before but feedback is always welcomed and appreciated! <3

-

“This isn’t gonna work.”

You said as you watched the boys practice their apology song for Julie for the dozenth time. Alex just glared at you in response as he crouched behind Luke, and you tried to contain your laughter as the side gate clicked open and Julie walked into the studio.

Reggie immediately burst into song and Luke followed, then Alex popped out from behind Luke’s back. Once the song was over, Julie stared at them with a blank expression.

“In case you missed it,” Reggie said. “We’re really sorry.”

Julie sighed. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“Look, it wasn’t okay that we flaked on the dance,” Luke explained. “We know we let you down.”

“Yeah, we never wanted to disappoint you.” Alex said. “You’re the best thing that happened to us since we became ghosts.”

“In hopes that you’ll rejoin the band,” Luke pulled the poster out from behind his back. “We booked a new gig.”

Julie didn’t say anything as she ran her fingers across the paper. You could tell that she was still upset by the way she kept her eyes trained on it. 

Reggie cleared his throat. “It’s a mind-blowing, life-changing gig.”

“There’s going to be all kinds of managers there. All we gotta do is blow their minds and we’ll be living the dream.”

“So this is important to you, huh?” Julie said, finally looking up at them. “Like the dance was important to me?”

Alex stepped forward. “We know we messed up.”

“But we need you in the band.” Luke finished and Julie rolled her eyes.

“Of course you do. Because without me, no one would be able to see you play.” Julie said, turning to Luke. “I thought the music we were making was special, but you’re too obsessed with your past to even care.”

“I do care!” Luke insisted. “We have a chance at greatness. I don’t want it to slip away from us again.”

“So then why did you bail on me and (Y/n) to get back at Trevor?” Julie crossed her arms as Luke stared at her with sad eyes. “I’ll tell you why. Because the only thing you care about is yourself.”

Luke glued his eyes to his shoes and Julie whirled around and marched back towards the house with the flyer still clutched in her fist. 

“Luke-” You stepped towards him but he phased away, leaving the studio clouded in sadness. 

“Where do you think he’s going?” Reggie asked.

“Where do you think?” Alex sighed. “Remember what today is?”

Even though Luke had never really cared about birthdays, you knew that his eighteenth was one he had been looking forward to all his life. Your heart broke for him when you realized that this was the way he would have to spend it.

You tugged his old jacket over your shoulders and looked towards the house. “We need to tell her.”

“About his mom?” Alex asked and you nodded.

“He can’t spend his birthday like this.”

Alex and Reggie both looked a little hesitant but nodded, following your lead as you poofed into the Molina’s living room.

Julie was on the couch, pouring over a textbook. She didn’t even look up when you all phased in front of her.

“Hey.” Alex approached her carefully. “Got a second?”

Julie kept her focus on the book and you sat next to her, using your best pleading look. “Julie, please.”

She finally looked up at you. “(Y/n), I already told you, I can’t be in the band.”

“I know.” You said. “But just, listen to us for a second, okay?”

Julie closed her book and set it on the table before looking at you all expectantly. 

“Luke isn’t as selfish as you think.” Alex said and Reggie nodded in agreement.

“You remember that song in his journal? About Emily?” You asked and Julie’s eyebrows furrowed. “We wanna show you who it’s about.”

 -

The Patterson house was almost exactly like you remembered it.

Dozens of memories swirled around in your mind as you walked up the pathway to the patio and crouched behind a chair. You could see Emily and Mitch in the window, Emily blinking tears out of her eyes as she frosted a triple chocolate fudge cake, Luke’s favorite. 

And as if that wasn’t enough to break your heart, Luke sat on the counter with his head propped up against his knees.

“Emily is his mom?” Julie asked, her voice light.

“Yeah, he comes here a lot.” Alex said. “He thinks we don’t know, but we’ve been following him.”

You close your eyes as a pit of guilt opens in your stomach. You had been so wrapped up in your stupid feelings that you didn’t notice how much Luke was hurting.

“All he does is sit and watch them.” Reggie explained. “They don’t do much though.”

“They’re eating cake. That’s something.” Julie said.

“It’s a birthday cake.” You managed, avoiding everyone’s eyes as their heads snapped towards you. “For him.”

“And it’s even harder for him ‘cause he left on bad terms.” Alex said. “His parents didn’t want their seventeen year old in a rock band. So he ran away.”

You watched as Mitch lit a candle in the center of the cake and gripped Emily’s hand across the table. Luke leaned forward and blew it out immediately, making them share a look of confusion.

“That’s why Luke was so mad.” Reggie twisted his fingers. “If Trevor gave him credit for the songs, then they would’ve known that it was all worth it.”

“That his dreams were worth chasing.” You finished, another wave of guilt washed over you. You hadn’t been thinking about Luke’s parents when you fought with him about the old songs, and now you wished you could take everything back and haunt the hell out of Bobby.

Emily and Mitch blew out the candle again and Luke sank back into his chair, staring at his parents as tears streamed down his face. Julie sniffled next to you and more than ever, you wished you could hug your friend.

Alex stood up. “We all know how much it hurts when someone who should’ve had your back completely lets you down. We never meant to make you feel like that.”

“We love our band, and Luke does too.” Reggie said. “Please give us another chance.”

Julie took one last look into the window before she nodded. “Okay.”

You all shared sad smiles and you cleared your throat. “Well, then I think we have a gig to rehearse for.”

 -

As you walked back into the studio, you couldn’t stop thinking about your fight with Luke.

How it must’ve felt for him to feel like you weren’t on his side when he was just trying to make his parents proud. You had been so caught up in your feelings of him ignoring you and being late to the dance that you didn’t stop to think about how he was feeling.

“Actually, guys,” You walked over to the couch and shrugged Luke’s old jacket on your shoulders. “Start without me. There’s something I have to do.”

“Oh?” Alex teased. “I wonder what?”

“And if it has anything to do with our birthday boy.” Reggie finished, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Do you guys want to die again?” You said and they both raised their hands in surrender. “I’ll be back soon.”

They just smirked at you knowingly as you felt yourself poof away into your old bedroom.

It was exactly the way you had left it.

Old pictures and countless band posters plastered all over your walls, a messy bed, and clothes everywhere. It was like time had been frozen in here, and as you looked around, it almost felt like you were alive again. 

Like at any minute, your mom would walk in and kiss your cheek. Or there would be a soft knock at your window and it would be Luke sneaking over for movie night.

But then reality came crashing back in when you looked over to your dresser and you spotted the thing you had come for. 

It was a small, dirty shoebox covered in faded stickers. You were thankful that your mom must’ve recognized it as something important and didn’t throw it away. No doubt she remembered helping you dig it up in 1995, just days before the Orpheum show.

You looked down and smiled at the words carved on the surface of the lid in Luke’s handwriting, 

Luke and (Y/n)’s Time Capsule!

Open on 18th birthday :)

You snorted, realizing his writing was exactly the same as when he was six. You wiped the surface of the box off with your sleeve and tucked it under your arm. Technically, you weren’t meant to open this until you were eighteen, but also, you were technically dead, so you figured your six year old self would forgive you.

With one last look at your old bedroom, you poofed away from your house and into the studio’s loft where you quickly tucked the shoebox behind an old guitar case before making your way down the ladder.

Julie’s voice floated through the air and you joined in, taking your spot next to her on the piano bench. She gave you a teasing look and you jokingly glared at her as the song ended and Luke suddenly phased into the chair across from you.

“Julie?” He asked, stunned. “What made you come back?”

“I realized that music is important to all of us.” Julie shrugged. “We’ve already lost so much, we can’t lose this too.”

Luke nodded, a trace of a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and happy birthday, by the way.” She said and Luke smiled as he grabbed his guitar. “Let’s go from the pre-chorus.”

Alex started the countdown.”1...2...3...4!”

You looked over at Luke, expecting him to be looking down at his guitar as he played but his eyes met yours. He winked as he came closer to sing with you, making you laugh. As he stopped in front of the piano, you realized that while it sucked, being a little distant from Luke had it’s advantages. 

At least then, you didn’t have to pretend that every little thing he did made your heart skip a beat.

 -

“Knock, knock.” You called out from behind Julie’s bedroom door, pulling Reggie’s arm back from inside the room.

“Come in.” She said and you all walked through the door. 

“What are you still doing up here?” Luke asked when he saw her snuggled up in her bed. “We go on in like twenty minutes.”

Julie sighed. “I lied to my dad so I’m stuck in here all night.”

“But we were just at the venue.” Alex said. “It was packed with people and managers. It’s kinda crazy.”

“My aunt is right downstairs.” Julie crossed her arms. “There’s no way I can get past her.”

Luke scoffed as he walked over to the window and pulled it open. “Well, it’s a good thing that you’re not taking the stairs.”

Julie’s jaw dropped, looking at you all with wide eyes. “I can’t sneak out!”

You sat down on the bed across from her. “C’mon, Molina. Live a little.”

Her eyes went back and forth between you and the boys hesitantly but she eventually gave in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

-

By the time you all got to the venue, it was even more packed than before.

Every table was full and you could tell by their clothes that they were definitely in the music business. Your attention was pulled to the stage when upbeat music started playing as Carrie started to sing.

You turned to talk to Julie but then there was a bright flash on stage and Alex landed in the middle of the dancers. Julie looked around confused, but you just laughed as he followed Carrie around the stage and copied her moves.

You laughed and cheered for him. “Woo! Go, Alex!”

As the song ended, he posed and bowed before poofing back to your group with a pink tint on his cheeks. “I was just doing that for you guys.”

Reggie snickered. “Uh-huh. You can stop smiling now.”

Julie watched Carrie leave the stage with a conflicted look on her face. “I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty good.”

Flynn nodded. “Yeah, I kinda forgot why I hate her so much.”

As if on cue, Carrie came strutting off stage and laughed as she looked Flynn and Julie over. “Hey, girls. Isn’t past your bedtime?”

“Now I remember.” Flynn said with a stiff smile.

Carrie looked over at Julie. “If you’re looking for Nick, he didn’t come.”

More than ever, you wished someone could see you purely so you could give her the finger. Being a jerk for no reason was bad enough, but taunting Julie about Nick was unfair.

“Actually, that’s not why I’m here.” Julie said as she took a step closer.

On the stage, the accouncer spoke into the mic. “Alright, looks like we have one more act tonight. ‘Julie and The Fat Ones’.”

Carrie and her group laughed and you turned to Luke, dropping your voice to a whisper. 

“Okay, I know it’s not the right time. But I totally told you that would happen.” You teased, thinking back to that morning when you filled out the sheet and Luke insisted that his handwriting would be legible enough.

Luke scrunched his nose at you. “Shut up.”

You snorted as Julie walked up to the stage and sat in her spot behind the piano. She put her mic in the holder and took a deep breath. “It’s actually ‘Julie and The Phantoms’.”

When the crowd quieted down, Julie started to play the opening. The gentle piano bored some people and you watched as they turned back to their conversations. But then Julie started to sing and caught everyone’s attention.

“Hearts on fire,

We’re no liars,

So we say what we want to say.

I’m awakened,

No more fakin’

So we push all our fears away,”

You felt yourself getting more excited as it came closer to your cue. You hadn’t played for this many people since you died, and even though you were a little nervous, you were filled with a need to perform again.

“Don’t know if I’ll make it cause I’m falling down under,

Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder,

I wanna fly, come alive,

Watch me shine!”

You all appeared on the stage and if people weren’t paying attention before, they definitely were now. You heard shocked gasps over the music and smiled, grabbing your mic and joining in on the chorus.

“I got a spark in me,

Hands up if you can see,

And you’re a part of me,

Hands up if you’re with me,

Now till eternity,

Hands up if you believe,

Been so long and now

We’re finally free.”

You watched as Luke walked over to Alex’s drum set, playing along with Reggie as you and Julie made it to the front of the stage.

“We’re all bright now,

What a sight now,

Coming out like we’re fireworks,

Marching on proud,

Turn it up loud,

‘Cause now we know what we’re worth,”

Luke settled back behind his spot and smirked, his hair falling in his eyes as he shook his head to the beat. You kept your eyes on him as he played, and Luke winked at you in response. Even though you hadn’t done it in forever, your on-stage flirting game was like muscle memory.

Before you knew it, the bridge came and Luke abandoned his microphone to share yours. You took it off the stand and leaned towards him. Behind you, Julie dropped out and your and Luke’s voices filled the venue.

“I got a spark in me,” You sang and Luke echoed your words.

“And you’re a part of me,

A part of me,

Now till eternity,

Now till eternity,

Been so long and now we’re finally free!”

Just like every other time you sang with Luke, the air disappeared from your lungs and someone hit the pause button on the world. Luke’s eyes never left yours and your skin tingled under his intense stare. You lightly shoved his chest and winked back at him as he went back to his microphone.

The bright lights flashed as Julie’s high note rang out and the song ended. The crowd instantly erupted in cheers and almost everyone gave a standing ovation as you bowed and phased away, making another wave of gasps and cheers run through the crowd.

You landed next to the coffee bar on the far side of the room and instantly saw Teddy, who was leaning on the edge of the counter with a smirk on his face.

“What, you’re stalking me now?” You joked.

“It was a complete coincidence, Gorgeous.” Teddy came closer and nudged your shoulder. “But a great one. Why didn’t you tell me that you could sing like that?”

“Like you’d believe me If I did.” You said as you laughed, still a little breathless from the performance. You could feel your friend's eyes on your back and you turned around. Alex and Reggie were standing there awkwardly while Luke crossed his arms.

“Ah, the famous bandmates.” Teddy smirked. “You guys were great.”

“Thanks.” Luke smiled stiffly at him before turning to you and gesturing over where Julie was talking to her dad. “Sorry to interrupt, but (Y/n), we should really go check on Julie.”

You tried to ignore the way that he was already wanting to get back to Julie made your heart sink into your shoes but you nodded and turned back to Teddy with an apologetic smile. “Bye, Teddy.”

You turned to leave but Teddy’s hand came up to grip your wrist. “Hey, uh, come to the diner tomorrow. There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Something bad?” You asked and Teddy sighed. 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay.” Despite the pit of worry in your stomach, for some reason, you trusted Teddy. “See you then.”

-

After you watched as Julie got steered out the doors by her dad, you phased into her room and waited for them to get back.

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sure, it was all of your idea to sneak her out, but you definitely encouraged her and now she was in trouble. As you waited, you looked around her room, admiring all the pictures and colors.

There were little paper butterflies hanging from the ceiling and you went to touch one, but then the door swung open and Julie came in.

She yelped but relaxed as soon as she realized it was you.

“I’m sorry.” You said. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or get you in trouble tonight.”

Julie shook her head. “Hey, it was my choice to sneak out. Besides, I’m not in trouble. I mean, I have to focus more on school and stuff but I’m staying in the band.”

“Thank god. I definitely couldn’t go back to a band of all boys.” You joked and Julie laughed before wiggling her eyebrows.

“Speaking of boys, don’t you have one to go give a birthday present to?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay first.” You said.

“Thank you, (Y/n). But I’m good.” Julie smiled warmly. “Now go get your boy.”

“He’s not my boy.” You protested but Julie just rolled her eyes and threw a pillow through your torso. “Hey!”

Julie laughed as she picked up another pillow. “Get out of here or else I’ll do it again.”

“Okay, okay!” You giggled as you poofed away.

You landed in the middle of the studio and frowned when you realized that it was empty. You assumed that Alex was probably out looking for Willie and Reggie was probably with Ray or Carlos, but Luke was usually hanging around the studio this late.

“Hey.” A voice called out from behind you and you whipped around to find Luke leaning against the railing of the loft.

“Hi.” You cleared your throat. “You okay?”

Luke nodded and gestured to the empty air next to him, and with a flash, you poofed to his side. You could tell that he was still thinking about his parents from the way that his eyes lingered on the studio doors and the guilt you felt earlier returned in full-force. You wanted to say something, do something to make him smile.

“I got you something.” You said, trying to put on a bright smile as you crossed the loft and pulled the box from its hiding spot. “You probably don’t even remember this thing, but we did say we were gonna open it when we turned eighteen.”

Luke knitted his eyebrows in confusion but a look of realization flashed across his face when you handed it to him. Just like you were hoping for, he instantly brightened as he read the carvings on the top of the lid.

“Oh my god...” He said. “I can’t believe you dug this up.”

For some reason, you didn’t want to tell him that you really dug it up twenty five years ago back when you stopped being friends. It seemed almost too sentimental, and after finally getting Luke back, you didn’t want to scare him away again.

“All it took was an hour, and technically some property damage if you count my mom’s rose bushes.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Luke threw his head back as he laughed. “Oof, be thankful that you’re already dead or else she would’ve killed you.”

You snorted as you gestured from him to open the box. He carefully pulled the lid off and slid a little closer to you so you could both see inside. There were some random drawings and toys, but what caught your eye was a box of crayons in the corner.

“Wait,” You gasped as you picked them up. “Are these the crayons?”

“The ones that you stole from me on the first day of second grade?” Luke said, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from laughing. “Yeah.”

“Excuse you, they were mine to begin with.” You reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Luke smirked.

You cleared your throat as you stepped away from the railing and faced Luke. 

“Hey, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for not listening to you about Bobby. I just got so caught in up in memories of how we all used to be and stuff that-”

“(Y/n), hey,” Luke chuckled lightly as he reached over and grabbed your hand, the gesture immediately stopping your ranting. “Don’t be sorry. You were right. I mean, I’ll always be bummed that our old music is gone, but a friend helped me realize that we should focus on the future.”

He gently squeezed your hand and you laughed. “This friend of yours sounds pretty smart.”

Luke hummed. “The smartest.”

You could feel his calloused fingers on the back of your hand and it felt so familiar and warm. For once, the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” Luke said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath before responding with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Lu.”

 -

September 1994

“Sweetie, your shift is over.” 

Cece said with a raised eyebrow as she watched you pour creamer and sugar packets into cups of coffee. 

“I know and I know that I shouldn’t be behind the counter when I’m not working.” You smiled up at her before placing the coffee pot into its holder, practically shaking with excitement. “But I have band news and the boys will be here any second.”

You put lids on the drinks and set them on the counter just as the bell on the door chimed and Alex and Luke strolled in, followed by Bobby and Reggie.

“Okay, what was so important that you had to wake me up and drag me down here?” Alex complained as soon as he saw you.

“It’s barely ten, Al. When did you turn eighty?” You teased as you handed him a paper cup of cocoa. Alex just grumbled at you under his breath as they all sat down in front of you. “I’m sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep, but this couldn’t wait.”

“We’re listening.” Reggie said as he grabbed his coffee.

“Okay, so you remember that guy who saw us play at the beach a little while ago?” You asked and they all nodded. “Well, I called him and it turns out that he owns a club downtown.”

“Wait.” Luke perked up and Bobby leaned forward in his chair. “A club club?”

You nodded. “And he wants us to play there every weekend next month.”

Alex choked on his cocoa. “The whole month?!”

You nodded again and there was a minute of stunned silence as they all exchanged looks. You smirked as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“Oh, and also, he knows the owner of the Orpheum. Apparently they used to go to college together or something. And he said that if we impress him next month, that he could maybe pull a few strings.”

There was another moment of silence before Bobby turned to you with a serious look on his face. “(Y/n), I could kiss you right now.”

“Gross.” You scrunched your nose and the rest of the boys laughed.

Luke, who had been bouncing in his seat a minute ago, suddenly looked serious as he jumped up and grabbed Bobby’s shoulder. “C’mon, Casanova. I’m starving.”

Bobby rolled his eyes but followed Luke over to the counter and started scanning the menu. Reggie whistled quietly, making you frown in confusion.

“What?” You asked.

“I think Lukey boy is a little jealous.” Reggie said and Alex hummed in agreement.

“What?” You asked. “He’s definitely not. But even if he was, it’s just Bobby. There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“That doesn’t matter when you’re in love.” Reggie sang and you cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna give you three seconds, Reginald.” You warned and Reggie scoffed, but then got wide-eyed when you started counting.

“Uh-oh.” Alex snickered and Reggie scrambled to get up from his chair and run across the diner just as you got to three. You caught up with him in seconds and jumped on his back, making him sigh in defeat.

But before you could brag about winning, Reggie suddenly bolted towards Luke and Bobby with you still on his back. The action caused a surprised laugh to bubble out of you making Bobby look at the two of you in confusion.

“What did Reggie do now?” He asked.

“All I said was that (Y/n)’s in lo-” Reggie started but you quickly slapped your hand over his mouth.

“Nothing!” You said quickly.

Once everyone got their food, you all sat down and started scribbling ideas for the setlists. You could hardly focus with all the excitement coursing through your veins. Ever since the day you formed Sunset Curve, you dreamed of playing at the Orpheum with your best friends and you were finally almost there.

You looked across the table and smiled at Luke, knowing that he was thinking the same exact thing from the way he was beaming back at you. You just had to impress one club owner, and you could live out your dreams.

Together.

-

In Life, In Death Taglist: 

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath​ @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 

Let me know if you want to be added!

[winterscaptain]

balancing out.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: thank you all for your patience this week! i hope you enjoy this one - a few of you have been asking for mom’s route 66 moment. here it is! i’ve got some really fun graphics comin out this weekend, so keep an eye out!

words: 3k warnings: canon typical mentions of injury and death, language

summary: “accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” ― marcus aurelius, meditations. au!january 2021

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

Haley’s sitting next to you when you snap to, sitting on a bench in a park. The same park, in fact, down the block from the apartment where you first lived with Aaron and Jack in 2012. 

This is the park where Jack learned to play soccer…

You have a feeling that something terrible has happened, that something isn’t right. 

“Don’t worry about that, right now,” Haley says, startling you a little. “You’re safe.” 

You look at her, finding her surprisingly aged in the time since you last saw her. “Haley? It really is you, isn’t it?”

She smiles at you. “Glad you can still recognize an angel when you see one.” There’s something behind her voice, the glints of her offbeat sense of humor you love so much. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snort. “You’re not an angel.” 

She shrugs with a wry smile. “Maybe not, but then again, maybe none of us are.” 

You take a moment to look around, finding the park exactly the same as you left it. Except, you note, you’re the only people there. The playground rests empty of children, curious dogs are absent from the grounds, couples lounging in the grass are nowhere to be found.

Why here? Why now?

All at once, the memory rushes over you. 

“Aaron,” you say, struggling for breath. You cough, and something wet crawls up your throat, making you cough again. Something dark lands in spatters across Aaron’s face and the collar of his shirt. You feel the compulsion to brush it away, but one of your arms feels leaden, trapped. 

He’s crying. And talking. 

“Hang on, baby. Hang on. I’m here.”

All you can say is his name, over and over, as you reach for him with the arm . There’s blood on your hands and part of you realizes you’re dying, probably. 

“What happened?” You hear yourself sputter. 

Aaron shushes you, brushing a shaky hand over your forehead. “It’s okay. You’re fine. You’re going to be okay. I love you. I’m here. You’re gonna be just fine.”

It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than you. You don’t mind. 

Everything goes dark. 

“Haley…” You look over at her again and she grabs your arm, stemming your panic. 

She shushes you once, short. “You’re fine.” 

Tears pool in your eyes before falling down your cheeks. “I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to go. Aaron, the kids, they - ” 

“You’re not going to die,” she assures you, standing and holding her hand out to you. “You’re just spending some time with me for a little while. Is that okay?” 

Her small, concerned frown warms you, and you know she’s actually asking. There’s a kind of understanding that she’ll just go away and you’ll be left in the darkness if that’s what you want. 

It’s not. 

“Yeah,” you reply. “That’s okay.” 

“Good.” Her face brightens and you stand. She tucks your hand into the crook of her arm and the two of you begin to walk, the landscape transforming around you. 

It doesn't make a lot of sense. You seem to walk through the park, then the apartment where you lived when Isaac was a baby, then the new house in Woodbridge with the twins, then the bullpen, all the way down the block to a house you recognize as Aaron and Haley’s - the big house they bought when they moved to D.C. in ‘98. 

The house where she died. 

“I have a couple people who really want to see you,” she says, by way of explanation. “I figured it would be easiest to meet here.” 

You step up to the porch and into the house, removing your shoes out of habit. There’s no trace of the blood or broken glass from the Foyet altercation. Everything seems in place, right down to Jack’s army men neatly arranged on the living room coffee table. 

It even smells the same - the light, floral smell of Haley’s perfume and something you can only describe as Aaron winds through the house, making it feel more lived-in than any time you’d been inside it after the divorce. 

“Momma!” A little girl with dark hair streaks across the room and throws herself into your arms. 

You catch her and bring her close. She’s probably six years old, maybe a little younger. When she leans back to look at you, you’re met with Aaron’s eyes. 

The recognition is immediate and you grin at her. “Hi, baby girl.” 

She smiles back at you, a mirror image. “Auntie Haley told me you’d come to visit.” 

“Did she?” You look over at Haley, whose fondness for your daughter is open and obvious. 

It’s only fair - my fondness for her son knows no bounds. 

“Yep. Gramma’s here, too.” 

You look around, your baby girl tucking into your chest as best she can given her size. Evelyn steps in from the back porch, closes the sliding door behind her, a glass of wine in her hand just like it would be in life, and smiles at you. 

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” she says, crossing the room to embrace you and press a kiss to your cheek. She and Haley look about the same age, maybe forty or forty-five. Her resemblance to Sean is more obvious in her youth, but Aaron’s still her own personal carbon copy. 

You relax into her arms, your daughter squished between your bodies. “Hi, Mom.” On the first inhale, the smell of her detergent washes over you and tears spring into your eyes again. “I miss you.” 

She laughs, leaning back to place one hand on your cheek and the other on your daughter’s shoulder. “I miss you, too. How are those girls? And my sweet boys?”

The thought of your family makes you smile and you attempt to push away the fear of leaving them…

Of leaving Aaron a widower again…

Stop. 

“They’re perfect.” 

Haley huffs from beside you. “Ev, can you please tell someone stubborn that dying isn’t an option here? At least, not right now?”

Evelyn smiles at you. “You’re not going to die, sweetheart. This is just a stopover point so you’re not alone. Aaron had one too, when he was in surgery a few years ago.” 

“He told me,” you say, feeling a little more confident. “He told me he talked to Haley.”

“Yeah and I reminded him it’s a good idea to pull his head out of his ass every once in a while.” 

You look over at her. “Thanks for that.” 

She snorts. “I thought he’d never ask you. It was the least I could do.” 

+++

Eventually, you end up on the back porch, sitting in the lawn chairs with the other Hotchner women. Time seems to move differently here, the golden light of the evening hours stretches far beyond what you’re used to, but it's nice. It’s not cold, not too warm, just comfortable. 

You hear the gate open and a familiar voice calls, “I thought I might find you here.” 

Standing, still keeping your little girl on your hip, you embrace Jenny with your free arm. 

Her smile is just as bright and warm as the first day you met her. Your daughter wiggles out of your grip and latches onto Jenny’s slacks. 

“Auntie Jenny, did you bring Aunt Shannon with you?” 

She shakes her head. “Not today, sweetie. Today is for your momma.” 

You take a seat on the arm of Haley’s chair and she snags her finger into your belt loop and says, “It’s almost time to go back.” 

You look back at her, a kind of forlorn feeling creeping up in your chest. “Can you come with me?” 

With a rueful little smile, she shakes her head. “No. But, I can show you something.” 

A screen sort of comes from nowhere, propped like a drive-in movie on the other side of the yard. Foyet’s there, manning the projector. You squint at him and he shoots you a salute and blows Haley a kiss. She catches it with a smile and a fond shake of her head.

By way of explanation, Haley says, “Things are a little different here. If they weren’t different here, they’d be different there.” She points at the screen and you redirect your attention. 

Time moves a little differently, but you learn that you’re watching your life unfold as if Haley hadn’t died, as if the most pivotal moment in your life with Aaron hadn’t happened at all.

You see years pass by on the screen - Foyet is eventually caught and killed (by Derek - a surprise). Haley and Jack come home. 

Aaron and Haley come to an understanding, and you make up the tripod in their odd little fitful family unit. Aaron moves back into the big house on the river - he’s never there anyways and he sleeps in the room that used to be his office when he is home. 

Emily actually dies. That one is another, rather more unpleasant, surprise. 

When you look at Haley, she tells you, “Where there is death, there will always be death, eventually. It balances out, one way or another.”

With Haley in the picture, Aaron isn’t as fearless in love as he learned to be with you, doesn’t have as much perspective. He’s riddled with self-doubt and addled with fears of disappointing her, of disappointing you.

You and Aaron dance around each other for years and years and years - it’s almost 2015 before he kisses you for the first time, almost another two years before he finally asks you out, another one before you get married, another one before you have your first child. 

Upon seeing him, you can tell he’s not Isaac. He’s a different boy, one that looks more like Aaron than you, who’s remarkably neurotypical, loud, and much scrappier than Isaac. 

Jack doesn’t call you ‘Mom’ and you’re not as close. 

Things are...wrong. 

Well, maybe not wrong, but they aren’t the same. Even with the added joy of having Haley in your lives after the fear and uncertainty, you’re acutely aware that this is the timeline that was warped in some way or another. Everything feels delayed or just off. 

You never have the twins or move into the Woodbridge house. Aaron doesn’t close the gap with Sean, who overdoses after a tumultuous battle with his addictions and demons. 

There’s a kind of smallness to that life that you don’t have in yours.

The images fade, leaving the blank screen, after what seems like an eternity spent experiencing an alternate reality that you might have wished for if you didn’t know any better. 

Haley tugs on your belt loop. “See? Couldn’t stay, can’t go back. The life you have is the best one that exists. And,” she adds with another little wry smile, “the only one you’ve got.” 

Jenny places her hand on your shoulder, your daughter still stuck to her leg like glue. “You’re not done yet.” 

“And,” Haley adds, “you have another surprise coming next year - around August.” 

At your squint, she continues with a little smile. 

“I’m not going to tell you, so you’ll have to stick around and find out.” She winks. “Thank me later.” 

When she stands, you follow Haley to the front porch. The rest follow behind you like a little band of ducklings. Even Foyet, who could be an unwelcome interloper, seems like a member of the family. Evelyn passes him a glass of iced tea when she settles in the doorway. 

It’s kind of funny, if you’re honest. 

“Aaron and Jack will be there when you wake up. Jessica has the little ones at home.” Haley holds your hands as she speaks, swinging them back and forth a little. “You’re…” She sighs, “really hurt. Like, really really hurt. You’re gonna be out of work for a little while, and your lung capacity will be pretty fucked...forever. You’ll be able to do everything, but you’ll need to take more breaks than you’re used to.” 

Your lower lip disappears into your mouth. “How’s Aaron?”

“Terrified.” 

+++

Aaron sits by your bedside holding your hand, watches the way your chest mechanically rises and falls with the ventilator. They intubated you right away to give your lung the space it needed to heal, but all he wanted was to hear your voice before they put you under, just one more time. 

It’s been a wretched three days. Your surgery seemed to stretch on forever, digging the bullet out of your chest, repairing the gunshot wound that shattered four ribs and perforated your left lung in six places. 

After surgery, you coded after your lung collapsed again due to a pulmonary embolism. That little incident sent you right back to surgery and Aaron’s blood pressure to the stratosphere. 

Since then, you’ve been stable, quiet, and, in the doctor’s words, “lucky to be alive.” 

He can still feel the blood you coughed up running over his fingers and landing on his face, the shallow heaving of your breath under his hands. 

Images of Haley and Kate and Emily flashed before his eyes as he tried to hold you together - horrible, horrible reminders. 

Would he lose you in the field, like Emily? 

Would he lose you in surgery, like Kate?

Would he be too late, like Haley? 

Selfishly, the thought of playing the part of a single parent to four young children scared the hell out of him. The twins were hardly two and a half, Isaac almost five. Jack…

He really hoped he wouldn’t have to hold Jack’s hand as he delivered another eulogy for another person he called ‘Mom.’

If he was a single parent again, he would be tasked with raising three more children who wouldn’t know their mother - wouldn’t remember you after some time. 

Just like Jack with Haley. 

He was terrified of becoming a shell of a man without you, leaving his children practically orphaned overnight. 

Sitting in the waiting room during your first surgery, he decided that he’d quit. He’d take whatever the bureau offered and quit for the sake of his children, for the sake of Jack and Isaac and Caroline and Sophia. He wouldn’t let them lose another parent to the field, to the relentless pursuit of evil. 

Now, beside you, he holds your hand and talks to you as much as he can, knowing all the while you can’t hear him. 

+++

“I love him, Haley.” 

She grins at you while Foyet rolls his eyes. “I know you do.” Pausing as if to think for a moment, she adds, “When you wake up, don’t panic. You’re intubated. It’s...” Her head wavers back and forth a little as she searches for words. “...Unnerving. And uncomfortable. But you’re tough.”  

She kisses your cheek, Evelyn and Jenny give you a hug, and Foyet kisses your hand. 

“Say hi to big man Aaron for me, will ya?” He asks. 

You snort and shake your head. “Gimme a break.”

He shrugs. “Worth a shot.” 

+++

Your eyes snap open and you see the ceiling before anything else. Remembering what Haley said, you try to ignore the deeply uncomfortable pressure in your throat, chest, and mouth as you squeeze Aaron’s hand. Jack’s asleep, his long legs curled up like a little spider in the little corner chair.

Aaron meets your eyes and immediately reaches for the call button, assuring you, “You’re alright. You’re intubated, honey. Don’t try to talk. Just a second, I promise.” 

The nurse arrives and takes care of your ventilator. You take it like a champ, mostly to avoid scaring Aaron any further. Your voice is raspy and worn when you speak. 

“Hey.” 

He takes a shaky breath. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

A little chuckle leaves you and you cough once. It hurts. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“That easily,” he scoffs, reaching for a lidded cup of water with a straw. “Your left lung practically exploded. You think that’s easy?”

You take the cup of water, pulling small sips. It instantly soothes your throat and you latently realize you have a feeding tube winding its way up your nose and down your throat. 

That’s a problem for another time. 

“Easy enough. You were stabbed multiple times - I hardly think one-upmanship is useful here.” 

Your humor has the intended effect. His shoulders relax and he leans over, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Before you ask,” you tell him, “I feel like hell.”

“Yeah I bet.” There’s a little laugh in it. 

“I saw Haley, though. And our little girl. She’s almost six now.” 

Aaron perches on the edge of your bed, still holding your hand. “Tell me about her.” 

You do, as best you can remember. Things are disappearing from your memory, but you cling to the important bits. You tell him what you saw, how life would be different if Haley had lived, the way you two talked about him, the way his daughter fits seamlessly into the lives of those they’ve lost. 

“So she’s alright.” 

You nod. “She’s perfect. Haley’s taking excellent care of her, of course.” 

“Only fair,” he says. 

“My thoughts exactly.” 

+++

You’re in and out of sleep, but eventually, they remove the feeding tube and let you sit up to eat some bland pasta with some juice. It’s the best meal you’ve had in what feels like years. 

Jack sits on your good side, tucked under your arm and drinking all your cranberry juice and showing you the new games Dave got him on his Nintendo DS. The girls sit at your feet, playing with some blocks Aaron brought them. They’re attempting to stack them on your shins to no avail. 

Isaac’s sleeping against your chest. It hurts to breathe with him there, but you don’t want him anywhere else. 

It’s Aaron’s turn to sleep. He’s got untouched files on the little table beside the chair, just as he usually does. Maybe one day he’ll give up trying to pretend to do work with one of the team hospitalized. 

Haley’s right. This is the life you’re supposed to have. 

+++

tagging: @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @jeor @roses-and-grasses @word-scribbless @bwbatta @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @joanofarkansass @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @winqhster @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @the-falling-in-the-danger @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos

[babysubinnie]

love or hate, but more hate. // mark lee

🥦 pairing:: mark lee x reader 🥦 genre:: fluff, angst, emotional, ceo!mark, ceo!reader 🥦 words:: 2.7k (i’m so proud of this one tho??) 🥦 summary:: after years of being friends with mark, the fact that he was leaving without saying goodbye, pissed you off. now that 7 years have passed and everyone has taken over everyone’s dad’s company, and mark is finally back. what the hell is going to go down?

——————————————————————————

“he’s leaving?” i shot my head up at hyuck when he told me that mark was leaving. there was always a chance to tell mark that i loved him. that it was always him. that there was nothing in this world that i loved more than i did him. but now i could never tell him how i felt and that was my fault. i was screwed. 

“i’m sorry y/n. i wish i told you earlier but i couldn’t. i had an interview to go-”

“shut up hyuck it doesn’t matter right now.” i stood up as quickly as i could before racing to the airport. i knew he said he was going to go to vancouver to finally take over his dad’s company but i never knew it was this soon. 

the three of us, hyuck, mark and i grew up together since the age of 5 in somewhat of a big bubble. we were constantly surrounded by people that told us what their recent purchase of the week was or what they were going to go buy in the future. we frankly didn’t care but when we met for the first time? we clicked just like that because of the fact that we didn’t want to be here. all three of our dads owned a company, and the three of them were always together. they would spend time together all the time, just like the three of us.

hyuck had already slowly taken over his father’s company but me? i was the last one of the trio to do it, which of course hasn’t happened yet. i wish it did because i was more than ready.

when i got to the airport, my heart was beating faster than anything else. i thought that my heart would stop beating if i didn’t see mark go. i needed to see mark before he left but why did it hurt that he didn’t even tell me? i knew that he would leave, i knew it would happen, but not like this. i got a call from hyuck and i hesitated to pick up the phone.

“y/n, why didn’t you tell him when you had the chance?” he groaned into the phone and tears filled my eyes as i ran around the airport trying to find him before stopping in the middle to yell at hyuck. 

“fuck you hyuck. i would have told him if i fucking knew this was the last time i would fucking see him okay?” i yelled back at him then started running again with the phone to my ear.

“y/n i’m sorry. i’m so fuck-” i hung up the minute i heard him say he was sorry to me. i couldn’t have this conversation with him while i was trying to find the love of my life. i started searching the entire airport for him and nothing. i ran to the gate that he always took us to, and his plane was getting ready to close the door. i screamed and their body guards saw me. they stopped everything and let me run onto the plane. 

“mark you can’t leave.” i shook my head with tears rolling down my face as i stood in the middle of the plane panting like a dog. i may have been able to stop him in time, but i don’t know if it was going to change anything.

“angel?” he stood up so fast running over to me wrapping his arms around my waist. he was the only one on the plane, with his personal body guard but he was basically alone. i knew his body guard wouldn’t say anything to mark’s dad but still the fact that i caught mark at the right time, made me over the moon. 

“hi min.” i smiled at him putting my hand through his hair because i knew how much he liked it. he rest his forehead onto mine before pulling away to look me in the eye. 

“you can’t leave me. what about hyuck?” i looked down then up into his eyes putting both arms around his shoulders. he pulled me towards him basically telling me that i couldn’t do anything to stop it even if he wanted to stay. 

“i’m so sorry angel. i have to go but i will be back before you know it. i promise.” 

before i knew it? was seven years before i knew it? i had taken over my dad’s company for three years, was matched to get married to someone although it wasn’t donghyuck, i dealt with it. donghyuck? the two of us stayed next to each other the whole time. he helped me through the entire process, and i helped him whenever he needed it.

the thing is, as the years went by, and we saw mark being successful, we started to hate him. he never came back to visit and he had all the time in the world and he loved to show it.  

“hi baby!” donghyuck started calling me a thousand nicknames when mark had left just to fill the hole and the fact that no one was there to call me that anymore. he was giggly when he sat down in front of my desk, and then propped his head up on my desk. 

“hyuck i’m so stressed about this press release help.” i looked down slamming down the papers that were in my hands when hyuck started giggling again. he picked up the papers i put down and stood up reading it. he was the biggest help i could ever ask for. 

“yes of course i’ll help you my love.” he laughed rolling his eyes sitting down in my chair when i stood up to look out the window. i looked down when i heard a knock at the door. 

“yeah? what?” i was pressing the bridge of my nose when i heard it, and i looked up to shout out the door. 

“you could be nicer to your assistant you know?” hyuck looked up from the papers before shooting a glare at me from the desk. i laughed telling her nicely to come in. 

“you both have a guest.” she smiled hearing the conversation that i had with hyuck. i told her to let whoever the guest was in, before looking down at the papers with donghyuck. 

“i’m glad you two are still joined at the hips.” we shot our heads up when we heard the voice. i wanted to hurt him. i wanted to scream at him. but i couldn’t. i wanted to cry. but i knew if i did, it would seem like i cared. at this point, i couldn’t care less.

“oh look what the cat dragged in. i didn’t know the person who completely abandoned us would have the guts to come back. ” i scoffed rolling my eyes before sitting on the chair once he stood up. donghyuck scoffed then looked down at me telling me that everything would be okay. 

“i didn’t mean to. i swear. i just got busy.” he did look guilty, but no calls, no texts, no nothing and he said he was busy? he didn’t talk to us at all. mark cut us out of his life.

“what? fucking say that ag-” as i started freaking out at him, the door got pushed open, and in walked the girl that i had always wanted to look like. the girl i always wanted to be like. well all until i met her.

“mark you didn’t wait for me!” she was perfect from head to toe, but i expected her personality to be bad. and was i right? yes. she was a complete bitch, but she didn’t show that to mark. of course he didn’t know.

“sorry angel. i wanted to see my friends-” that fucking name. that fucking nickname. i looked down shaking my head biting my lip not knowing what to do but scream at him. hyuck pulled me to stand up before wrapping his arms around me tightly. he knew what that nickname meant to me. 

it all went back to when we were kids. the first time that he saved me from the bullies in kindergarten, he asked me if he was okay, and that was the first time he called me angel. i pulled away from hyuck turning around to face mark. he kept his hand on my waist, reassuring me that he was there for me.

“do you even deserve to call us that?” i screamed at him trying to lower the attitude because we had a guest. this girl was scoffing while i was yelling at him. i looked her up and down in disbelief when i realized that she thought she was part of this little fight. donghyuck moved in front of me trying to stop me from doing anything that i would regret.

“and who the fuck do you think you are scoffing like that?” i pushed donghyuck out of the way before i walked over to her. she glared at me while i walked up to her, but when i glanced at mark, he was cursing at me with his eyes. 

“both of you, get out.” i scoffed in disbelief when i saw that mark was now pissed off at me. i didn’t care, at all what he thought.

i watched them walk out before covering my face as tears rushing down my face. donghyuck ran over to me so fast that i could barely do anything before he picked me up wrapping his arms around my waist pulling me close to him. 

“i’m sorry.” 

“hi dad!” i ran in throwing my arms around his shoulders and he laughed with donghyuck’s dad when hyuck did the same thing. this party was one of the normal ones, the snobby people, the annoying girls that always hit on haechan, blah blah. our dad’s were not the type of guys that were snobby people because of money but our moms were.

“y/n. we are surrounded by a thousand of your fathers investors. behave.” she scoffed taking a sip of her champagne before i turned to look at donghyuck. he laughed at me and when we started walking away, mark and that girl walked in. 

“who’s the girl?” my mom glanced up at me from her seat and i scoffed shrugging. i rolled my eyes and sat on the ledge of her seat, to which she handed me a glass of champagne. before i knew it, mark was walking over here to say hi to his dad, my dad, and hyuck’s dad. when we were sitting there waiting for him to introduce his friend, he made eye contact with me, i couldn’t look away. there was something about it. 

“who’s your friend minhyung?” mark’s dad asked him and mark looked away from me then looked at her. 

“this is irene.” he was hesitant to say they were dating. i knew that he was. he had a small glint in his eye saying that he didn’t want to say it. donghyuck and i shared eye contact before looking back at mark. mark’s dad looked up at me wondering if i was okay. i nodded telling him that i was fine regardless if he was dating her or not. 

“are you guys dating?” he asked after nodding at me, then glancing up at mark. he reluctantly nodded which caused her to step forward to introduce herself. 

“hi! i’m irene, mark’s girlfriend. it’s so lovely to meet all of you! and omg! you’re here too y/n!” she smiled while scanning the room until she made eye contact with me. she smirked then put her arm around mark’s pressing a kiss to his cheek. i laughed fakely before standing up to walk away. i was walking away when i heard mark excuse his self. 

“excuse me for just a second.” 

i walked over to the bar again to get something to drink when i realized mark was next to me. he turned around to face the party when i was facing the bar. he leaned over to whisper, 

“meet me over there in ten seconds. we need to talk.” before i could object, he was walking off to the corner of the party. i followed him after ten seconds in the direction he walked. i didn’t know where he went but before i knew it, he had me pinned against the wall with his eyes piercing into mine. 

“hi.” i bit my lip and he smiled. everything i waited for in this moment, was to tell him that i loved him. to tell him that everything in the world didn’t matter except for him. 

“hi angel.” he put his hand on my cheek before staring at me for what seemed like hours. i put my head against the wall telling myself to knock it off, even if i was two seconds away from making my dream come true, but no. i had to knock out of it. 

“mark, no. you’re not allowed to call me that anymore. not unless you’re calling that girl that.” i shook my head pushing him away from me, before starting to walk away from him just to stop myself from doing or saying anything wrong. 

“angel i’m sorry. i’m sorry for leaving you behind. i’m sorry for everything.” he shook his head biting his lip when he was holding my wrist. i pushed him off and walked outside to the balcony. he grabbed my wrist again and i glanced at his hand, then at him. 

“no. i can’t mark. i can’t fucking do this. you know why? because i fucking love you. okay? i love you so much that i can’t do anything about this because you have a girlfriend. i’m mad at you because you left us when i could have told you how much i loved you. i’m mad at you because you didn’t even let me tell you that. i’m-” i just confessed everything. i just told him everything about how i felt and that was not even the end of it. but i told him the truth. 

“stop.”

“no, i’m mad at you because you-” i started going off at him again before he put his hands on both of my cheeks before looking me straight in the eye. 

“i told you to stop, angel.” he pressed his lips to mine moving his arms around my waist pulling me close to him. when he pulled away, he smiled at me like i was his favorite thing in the entire world.

“i love you, so goddamn much.”

“mark?” that screeching voice. that voice i wanted to rip out of her goddamn body. i wanted to kill her for ruining this goddamn moment. 20 years for this moment, and this bitch ruined it.

“god fucking son of a bitch.” mark mumbled under his breath while i laughed at his response for irene just showing up out of no where. he kept one arm around my waist while putting his other hand in his pocket.

“you’re cheating on me with this bitch?” she scoffed looking me up and down before i laughed under my breath. i looked down then looked back up to her. i was going to go at her throat, but i couldn’t. 

“nothing to say huh? i’ve known him for longer than five months so don’t you even bother.” she giggled with so much fake in her voice that made me want to hurt her even more. 

“oh? i see. mark i’m sorry i must be wrong about this. we shouldn’t be together.” i winked at him when i turn my back towards her. i hugged him fakely while he continued to act with me. 

“we’ve been together for too long. we can’t risk anything else.” he shook his head resting his forehead against mine. she smirked from behind us and i turned around to laugh at her. mark put his arms around my waist, back hugging me and i smirked back at her.

“is 20 years too short min? i think it is to be honest. five months should be longer right?” i laughed looking away from her then looked back at her. i rolled my eyes then turned around to face him again. 

“fuck the both of you.” she turned on her heels and walked off, and fast. i looked at mark smiling brightly at him, looking down then up at him. he pressed a kiss to my forehead, my nose, then my lips. before i knew it, we were making out on the balcony, with nothing to stop us. 

“20 years and you’re finally mine. it’s about god damn time.” 

[littlerainbowsheltie]

What You And I Would Feel Like Chapter 1

The blaring of an alarm dragged Sasha from slumber as the teen groaned from her blanket cocoon, blindly reaching for her phone to shut it off. Sweet silence filled the room once more as she slowly got her bearings and checked the date on the screen. Right, the first day of school again.

Okay, Sasha, you can do this. One...two...three go!

Sasha flung off the covers as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the carpeted floor. She quickly got up before her bed could pull her back into its comfortable embrace and headed off to take a shower. Once clean and dressed in uniform, Sasha walked over to her vanity and fished a scrunchie and a pink woven bracelet from one of the drawers.

As Sasha secured her hair into its signature ponytail her gaze swept over the mirror until it landed on a picture tapped to it. The picture was taken from their beach day last month. The trio was sitting on beach blankets, Marcy had her arms wrapped around their shoulders, and Anne was leaning against her with a cheesy grin on her face. Sasha felt a smile tugging at her lips. What dorks.

My dorks.

Grabbing her backpack, house keys, and phone Sasha headed off down the stairs, making her way towards the front door. As she reached for the doorknob-

“Sasha.”

Sasha took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face her mother. Janis Waybright stood by the living room entrance already dressed for work. Though Sasha had seen her mother smile before it never quite reached her eyes and today was no different.

“Leaving so soon?” Janis inquired as she crossed the room, heels clicking against tile.

Sasha winced. “Yeah, I’m supposed to meet up with Anne and Marcy before class starts.”

“Right, Anne and Marcy. How are they? I haven’t spoken to Mei in a while.”

You only talk to them when you can help each other’s businesses. But she didn’t say that, unfortunately.

Instead Sasha said, “They’ve been good.”

Silence. Silence filled the room, the only sound coming from the grandfather clock in the living room and cars driving by. Sasha wondered if there was a point to this until her mother spoke again.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you about them, actually. Your father and I are happy you’ve found good people to surround yourself with.” Janis began as she wandered towards the window, watching the people walk past their gate. “But...we are worried you’ve gotten .

You know people talk. And there are some things we don’t want people to talk about, especially if it will tarnish the family name.” Calculating cobalt eyes glanced at her. “Don’t you agree?”

A pit started to form in Sasha’s stomach which slowly started to form into a burning rage. She could talk badly about Sasha all she wanted, she was used to it, but pulling Marcy and Anne into this, threatening her relationship with them was going too far. She wanted to yell but the need to get out, to find her girls was stronger.

“Yes, mother.” Sasha grits out before finally tugging open the front door and letting it slam behind her on the way out.

--

The walk to school was a blur. Thoughts of what her mother said swirled inside her head and it didn’t make her feel any better. Her mother didn’t get it, she never did and honestly, she probably didn’t want to.

Soon the high school came into view and Sasha quickly crossed the street, heading into the entryway. Other kids passed by whether alone or in groups, walking or riding bicycles. Sasha looked towards the bike racks and felt the fury in her gut finally start to fade when she saw them.

“Anne! Marcy!”

Anne and Marcy looked up from the former’s phone and grins formed on their faces when they saw her. Sasha saw Marcy say something before bolting towards her with Anne calling out, “Hey, no fair!” and chased after her.

Marcy got to her first and excitedly threw her arms around the blond. “Sash! I missed you!”

“We just saw each other last week, Marsh.” Sasha laughed as she returned the hug.

“A week is too long, Sasha.”

“I think I've bored her with all the cat videos,” Anne replied when she reached them.

Marcy gasped as she pulled away from Sasha. “I could never be bored of cat videos! Have you seen their toe beans?”

Anne snickered at that then turned to Sasha and opened her arms, the blonde gladly welcoming the tight embrace.

When the two separated Marcy slid between them and linked their hands, pulling them towards the school. They weaved through the crowded halls, discussing which classes they had together. Unfortunately, it seemed today hated her because they only had lunch and the last two classes together. Which wasn’t so bad but thankfully tomorrow looked much more promising.

The first two classes went by in a blur. English and Math was not her strong suit. Soon Sasha was walking into Home Room and took a seat closest to the door for a quick escape. The Home Room teacher introduced herself, they listened to the morning announcements, and Sasha spent the rest of the time scrolling through her phone. That is until someone took the seat beside her.

”Sasha.”

Sasha kept scrolling. “Brianna.”

”I love the bracelet! Where’d you get it?”

Her gaze flickered to said bracelet on her wrist before landing back on the screen. “Anne made it for me. Marcy got one too.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of her. You think Anne would make me one if I asked?”

Sasha seemed to be staring at this cute puppy photo for an eternity before she finally spoke. “Is there a reason you came over here, Rochana?”

Brianna’s giggle finally tore Sasha’s eyes from her phone screen to the other girl who had her chin propped up on one hand and a twinkle in her eyes. Her long black hair reached the small of her back now, a few strands thrown over one shoulder.

“Is that jealousy I see? Careful, Waybright,” Brianna leered, “green isn’t a good look on you. It’s too bad, though. I wanted to run this idea by you.”

“What idea?”

Brianna grinned. “To ask Anne or Marcy out, of course!”

It suddenly felt like she was doused in ice water. What?

Brianna goes on seemingly without a care in the world. “Anne is very kind-hearted to everyone she meets and very fit. Marcy is wicked smart and is pretty cute for a nerd

“So I thought why not give them a chance! Besides-” Brianna’s grin formed into a smirk. “It’s not like you guys are dating or anything. I don’t see a problem, do you?”

Before Sasha could retort the bell rang, Brianna flashing the blond a wink before getting up and sauntered out into the steadily crowding halls. As the other kids filed out of the room Sasha couldn’t stop thinking about her conversations with both her mother and Brianna. Her parents never cared much about her relationship with Anne and Marcy before, and Brianna rarely gave her friends the time of day. Especially since Anne declined her date in Sophomore year.

It shouldn’t bother her if Anne and Marcy date, and yet the thought of anyone else holding their hands, kissing them made her feel sick to her stomach. This whole day was causing a firey pit in her stomach and she finally had enough. Sasha snatched her bag from the side of the chair and stalked off, too many thoughts swirling in her head to know where she was going until she found herself in the school wing where History class with Anne and Marcy was.

Anne and Marcy soon came around the corner a little ways down the hall and Sasha made a b-line towards them-

Anne smiled. “Hey, Sash- whoa!”

-tugging them by the wrists into an empty classroom.

“Whoa, Sasha! What's wrong?” Came Marcy’s worried response once she had released them.

Sasha took a steadying breath as her friends waited with patience and concern.

“Okay. So my mom had said something about our relationship this morning,” Sasha began as she nervously wrung her hands. Something new her therapist had commented on. “And Brianna wanted to let me know she was going to ask one of you out not too long ago and made some kind of snide comment on our relationship too! I mean, what is up with people today? Mind your own business.”

Anne opened her mouth to speak but Sasha kept going.

“So I was thinking: why don’t we pretend to date. Not only will it piss off my parents but it’ll shut Brianna up and you two don’t have to worry about her asking either of you out!”

It was quiet as Sasha caught her breath but heat started to crawl up her cheeks in embarrassment as what she just said dawned on her as the minutes crept on, Anne and Marcy staring at her in bewilderment.

“Look we don’t even have to do anything! Nothing has to change and we only have to say yes if anyone asks.”

“It’s not a bad idea honestly,” Marcy hummed as she rubbed her chin. “We only really have to do it with Sasha’s parents and Brianna. Everyone else probably won’t even care.”

“Wait, hold up!” Anne interrupted as she looked at them incredulously. “We can’t just pretend we’re dating! Especially not to just anger people.”

“Anne-”

“No Sasha, I can’t.” Anne let out a sigh and turned to leave. “You can do whatever you want but leave me out of it.”

The final warning bell rang as Anne exited the room and Sasha cursed under her breath. A gentle hand on her shoulder brought the blond’s gaze to Marcy, who smiled reasurringly.

“I’ll try talking to her.”

At Sasha’s nod, Marcy took her hand and they walked to class together.

[zaynmirrors]

Fire on Fire: Part 16 (10k)

Pairing: 10k x mom!reader

                                                Chapter 16

I had made it back to Illinois with little to no problems, surprising to say the least. The dirt path in front of me stretched for what felt like miles. 

The farmhouse was well protected. Reinforced fences, and a giant metal gate at the entrance. As I continued to walk a thought hit me, what if I’d come all this and she wasn’t alive. 

I shook my head ridding the thought but not completely. I looked up at the gate unsure of how to get past as if by magic it opened, revealing a man holding a shotgun. 

I put my hands up, “sorry to bother you but I think you may have my daughter” I said trying to come off confident. 

He lowered his gun slightly and asked, “y/n?” I nodded and he gave a small smile. “Murphy said you’d be coming back, just thought there’d be more of you” 

I shook my head, “no sir, just me” He frowned but moved to the side allowing me in then he shut the gate behind us. 

From the moment he had shut that gate I was treated like family. Welcomed in by strangers who didn’t feel like strangers, strangers who had raised my daughter. 

Speaking of my daughter, Emma had grown quite a bit. She was almost three now, and her hair was long and unruly as ever. Truly it was just a mop of curls, taking after Angel. 

“Y/n dear, do you mind getting some water?” I looked over at Maggie, the woman who had been so kind to take in my daughter. Her face set with wrinkles, and grey peppering her auburn hair. 

I nodded and headed out to the well pump. Aware of the shadow I had trailing my heels. I smiled to myself and played oblivious. 

I set down the pail under the faucet and began to pump the handle until the water ran. I let go and let it fill the bucket while I awaited my attacker. 

Almost out of nowhere something small grabs a hold of my leg trying to knock me down, which some of her force caused me to stumble. 

I quickly fell to the ground and said “you got me” before hanging my tongue from my mouth causing her to giggle. Smiling, I sat up and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. 

Emma wasn’t really verbal especially for a developing toddler. It reminded me of 10K who never left my mind, he was always there.I pushed the thought aside, choosing not to dwell. 

She crawled out of my lap, walking toward the barn cat she was obsessed with. Shaking my head with a smile I stood and headed inside with the bucket. “Here you go Mrs. Maggie” as I placed it on the counter. 

She said her thank you and started a fire in the wood stove, ready to boil the water to make something delicious for dinner. 

I have to say the best thing about staying here has been the home cooked meals. It’s been nice to have warm food. All the food is grown here by the hands of Davis, Maggie's husband. 

Dinner was made and ate, with light conversation and a few laughs. Maggie and Davis were the first to turn in, Emma and I following behind shortly. 

I never got much sleep though, the bed was too soft after getting accustomed to falling asleep sitting up or on the ground. 

Emma snored softly next to me, I stared out the window at the starry night sky. Listening to the silence which sometimes seemed deafening. I closed my eyes with a small sigh and tried to drift off. 

10k stood, a frown prominent on his face. His arms crossed over his chest he opened his mouth to speak but only thick crimson rolled out. The liquid covered his chin and began to drip, some fell on his jumpsuit and the rest fell to the sand. 

He began making his way towards me, a thick crimson tear falling from his eye. 

“You left me” his voice quivered, the blood making his voice wet. “I needed you” 

“I know, I’m so sorry” my stomach turned, sick at the knowledge I had done this. 

He whimpered in pain as another red tear fell, leaving a Scarlett path down his cheek to join the pool on his chin. “I needed you too!” He spat blood flying onto my face, “I’m always going to come second to her aren’t I?” His voice was emotionless, and thick with blood. 

“You know that's not-“ he cut me off, shoving me backwards I noticed my feet were on the edge of the cliff. Another push and I was done for. 

“You’re going to have to choose between me and her, so who’s it going to be y/n” his eyes pierced mine coldly, they held no warmth or comfort. They stared harsh and venomously. “Choose!” He shouted, shaking me. 

I cried out, “I can’t! I can’t!” A tear rolled down my cheek. I looked back into his eyes hoping that this time there would be some sense of home but they were still a deep black hole full of cruelty. 

“You can’t have both” 10k deadpanned, letting go. He moved further and further away, it registered that I was falling the moment I felt like I was flying. 

Inhaling sharply I awoke as I hit the ground in that torment of a dream. Emma still slept soundly beside me, and the sky outside the window was still pitch black. 

Nightmares were another reason I didn’t sleep. They were always different, but unfailingly including Emma and 10K in some sense. I figured they were from leaving 10k the way I did, but now I have no clue.  As I stared out the window I wondered what he was doing and if he was alright. If he just so happened to be staring at the sky wondering the same thing. 

I jolted awake from another nightmare, unaware I had fallen asleep again. By the looks of it Emma was already up for the day. I stretched and got myself ready.  The smell of biscuits wafted through the house, “sure smells good Mrs. Maggie” I said a smile on my face as she came into view. 

“Thank you dear, Emma’s outside helping Davis in the field” she chuckles “that girl sure doesn’t sit still for long, always has to do something” I nodded, it was true. Emma had a constant need to be doing something, didn’t matter what it was as long as she was occupied. While being here there was plenty for her to do. 

I took a biscuit and headed to the bookshelf which was one of many and plucked out a book. I made my way outside to the porch, taking a seat on the creaky wooden porch swing. This would most likely be where I spent my morning. 

It indeed was, Emma had joined me for an hour before she went with Davis to feed the livestock. Maggie had joined not too long after that propping up in her rocking chair reading a book too. 

What felt like hours went by, listening to the peacefulness of no Zs. Emma crawled into my lap ready to curl up for her afternoon nap. She made herself comfortable, falling asleep in minutes. I set the book down marking my page. Resting back I closed my eyes hoping to get some rest without a nightmare, that was wishful thinking though. 

Gasping awake I realized Emma was gone again, quickly I wiped the tear from my eye and looked around to ground myself. 

I knew they weren’t real but sometimes they just feel like they are. “Bad dream?” Davis asked as he started up the steps, I just nodded. “I think I might have something for that” with that he went inside to which I followed. We went down into the basement, where he handed me a dream catcher. 

“Our son used to swore it helped” he smiled sadly at the memory, “maybe it can help you” I gave him a small smile and a thank you as I gingerly took it. Their son was about my age from what they had told me, lost out there in the apocalypse. They had no clue if he was alive or undead. I sometimes wonder if not knowing would’ve been better. 

“Honey are you down there?” Maggies voice floated down the stairs. Davis replied with a ‘yeah is everything alright’ to which she replied, “I think there’s someone at the gate” Davis sprung into action running up the stairs, Maggie and Emma were ushered down and told to stay put with me. I grabbed the nearest thing I could use as a weapon which happened to be a screw-driver. 

“Mama?” Emma asked small as she held onto my leg. There was not fear in the voice just curiosity. 

I shushed her, “It’s fine Em, we’re fine” making sure my voice was steady and unwavering. Unsure of what was about to happen, I was thankful I got to spend some time with my daughter if we were about to die. 

“-shoot you” My ears picked up the last line as, I heard the pounding of boots above us, I glanced at Maggie who had a bat, when she had gotten that I have no Idea. 

“I know they’re here” The voice was muffled and somewhat unplaceable, it didn't sound like someone I knew. Emma dug into my leg a little more, rubbing her back I quietly shushed her. There was a loud thud causing me to furrow my eyebrows. Maggie and I shared a look before hearing Davis say “Ah shit”

Part 17

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #19

#19. “Does your life revolve around embarrassing me?”

“Aaron, I need a favor.”

His boss, Rich, catches him as he’s arriving for the day, shuffling a few piles of papers on his desk as he waits for the clock to strike 8. Not a moment before, not a moment after, he thinks. Their shifts are carefully timed, every minute on the clock accounted for. The budget is tight; Aaron’s heard the rumors, questioning of why Ambassador Prentiss needs the amount of security she has. Whispers of cuts have become more and more frequent over the last few weeks. He’s grateful to still have a full schedule of shifts. Others haven’t been as lucky.

“Sir?” Aaron asks as evenly as he can. It’s about to be a long day and from what he’s learned in the months of working there, visits from Ambassador Prentiss’s head of security typically entail some special assignment, one he didn’t sign up for, but is volun-told for. “Is there something you needed?” He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he needs a good letter of recommendation when he ultimately puts in his two weeks sooner rather than later. He has his eyes on something a bit more ambitious, potentially the FBI. He’s already started the grueling application process.

“A big favor.” Rich sounds slightly out of breath, as if he ran the whole way to his office, judging by his red face. He looks annoyed, his face a little pinched, etched with a few more lines than it had the first time they met. Aaron still isn’t quite sure what makes his job so stressful - the Ambassador’s residence runs like clockwork, and now that it’s fall and things have settled down, it’s been relatively quiet.

“I need you to drive to New Haven this morning. I’d ask Harris to do it, but he called off sick and we’re short-staffed already.” It’s the way he says it that Aaron knows he just learned the news too, as if trying to coordinate logistics in his own head.

New Haven. Fuck, Aaron thinks, briefly closing his eyes. What he wants to say is Harris called off for a bachelor party in Ocean City and to find someone else. Instead, he sinks into his desk chair, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. Driving to New Haven can only mean one thing, and while he’s almost certain no one knows what happened over the summer, he can never be too sure. “New Haven, Sir? This morning?” He glances at the calendar on the wall - shit. It’s the coming weekend before Thanksgiving -more traffic is all but a given, and it also means Emily will be home for almost a full week.

Then he remembers he’s scheduled to work doubles most of the holiday week.

Great.

“Ambassador Prentiss called me to her office an hour ago. She’s asking that Emily be driven home from Yale tonight. I don’t know the details, but she was pretty persistent that one of us would go up there and get her. My guess is she got into some kind of trouble, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Aaron tries to hide his annoyance, and more so the slight tug of worry in the pit of his stomach. “What are you talking about? What kind of trouble?” He does the math in his head - it’s  a five hour drive to Connecticut without traffic. There and back will be at least a twelve hour day, if not more.

“I don’t want to speculate, but the last time this happened, she got caught underage in a bar and nearly got arrested. We never found out exactly what happened, but from what I heard, it wasn’t good.”

Aaron grimaces; it’s exactly like Emily’s mother to sweep something like that under the rug and completely ignore the bigger issue at hand. From what he’s learned, it’s been a familiar pattern for years.

“The Ambassador approved time and a half for whoever makes the trip. I know you said you need the -”

“I’ll do it,” Aaron says quickly before he can think too much about the circumstances, wondering just what could be so pressing at such a last minute.  His situation with Emily is complicated, one that should have never even become a thing in the first place. But it did, and even three months after she’d left, she remains at the forefront of his mind most days, a constant reminder of those hot summer nights in mid July.

There’d been nights at his apartment and early mornings in her room; behind closed doors he’d fallen for her. She’d careened into his world completely unexpected, a welcomed change from his familiar pattern of soft-spoken, yet well-intentioned blondes. Emily was the exact opposite. There had been secret meetings tucked amongst the endless gardens, dinners in dive bars and a few trips to nicer restaurants under the city lights when his paycheck allowed.  It was exhilarating and all consuming until it wasn’t, when it all came to a screeching halt a few weeks later.

They haven’t talked since the night before left for New Haven. The night ended with an argument, along with tears (hers) and a ridiculous sense of guilt (his) as he dropped her off just outside the gates of the mansion. Yet she’d been the one to end it, explaining through thinly veiled frustration that it just wouldn’t work, that everything would change and none of this could continue. His pushback had only angered her, his attempts to assure her it could in fact work fell on deaf ears. And as she’d all but fled from his car, it was fear he saw in her face. Fear of possibility for what could be.

All of this, along with their months of silence, means he’s probably the last person she’ll expect to see outside her door. Aaron has a feeling she isn’t quite prepared for what is about to be a very unexpected visit. What he also knows is that neither is he.

…

It’s been awhile since he stepped foot on a college campus, and he doesn’t exactly blend in wearing a full suit and dark sunglasses in a sea of jeans and sweatshirts. He ignores the stares he gathers from the small groups of students all over the campus, finding her building with relative ease.

He nods a thanks to the girl holding the door open, quickening his pace just a little. She gives him a once over, lifting an eyebrow at his attire. “Campus security is the other way, you know. You look a little lost.”

“I’m in the right place,” he retorts quickly, brushing past her and up to the third floor. As he climbs the stairs with a slight burn in his lungs from the exertion, Aaron remembers Emily complaining about that three story climb over the summer, and the memory of her, warm in his arms, almost makes him smile. Almost. But she most likely has no idea he’s coming; it’s impossible to tell what her reaction will be. Anger? Indifference? But by now he’s standing outside her door, and it’s too late to turn back.

Aaron knocks three times, crisp and precise, then waits a few perfunctory moments. No answer. He knocks again, this time a little more insistent, and he hears a soft grunt, a muffled voice from behind the door. What he doesn’t expect is what he sees when the door swings open. A guy, about her age give or take, blinks away the confusion from his eyes, his defenses rising immediately. He’s clearly not expecting visitors, and Aaron, half expecting him to close the door in his face, briefly wonders if he has the right room.

319. It’s right, and this just got significantly more awkward, even as a small bubble of jealousy rises in his throat, one that takes him by surprise. “Who the hell are you?” Aaron asks, instinctively propping the door open with his foot.

“Name’s Rob.” There’s a cigarette in his hand; the room smells like an ashtray and slightly of stale wine, even though it’s the middle of the day. He flicks his eyes over Aaron’s suit and scoffs with an air of arrogance. “What are you, some kind of cop or something?”

“I’m here for -”

“Aaron? What are you doing here?” Emily suddenly pops up behind Rob out of nowhere, looking just as surprised, and slightly embarrassed as realization dawns on her face. “Tell me my mother did not send you here.”

Rob visibly tenses at the mention of the Ambassador. “Your mom’s got the cops chasing you now? I thought you said she wouldn’t find out about  -”

Emily’s cheeks flush as she rolls her eyes, taking a sideways look at Aaron. “He’s not a cop, Rob. He just works for her.”

“Basically the same thing, right? You said she basically had her own secret service. You know this guy?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighs with frustration. “I know him.”

Aaron shifts from foot to foot, staring between them both. Being here suddenly feels invasive; he wishes he would have never said yes to this in the first place. It’s clear nothing has changed between Emily and her mother, and everything has changed between the two of them. She’s clearly moved on. Maybe it’s best to make this as detached as possible - a business transaction, no emotions or feelings. “I’m your ride home. Start packing.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Emily narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Just following orders.” He scans the room - the counter is littered with empty cans and cups, a deck of cards strewn over the desk in a corner, an ashtray full of cigarettes. “How soon do you think you can be ready to leave?”

“Leave? What about tonight?” Rob cuts in. “Brian and Dan got bottle service tonight. I thought you were going to bring that hot friend of yours. Dan wants to meet her.”

“Bottle service?” Aaron says incredulously, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Rob’s face. “You do know she’s underage, right?” He doesn’t have to look at Emily to know that is enough to set her off, and she shoots him a look that could cut glass.

“Listen man,” Rob begins, swaying on his feet. “I don’t know who you are but -”

“I’m  the guy who's going to kick you out-” Aaron begins tersely.

“Just go, Rob. Please just … go.” Emily snaps, presses her fingertips to her eyes, the heat rising to her face like two blood red stains on her cheeks. “I’ll … I’ll call you once I figure this out. Just go without me.”

“Or just ditch your babysitter.” He scoffs but still leans in closer, all but towering over her. Aaron doesn’t miss the way Emily recoils when Rob kisses her cheek. He reminds him of the type of guy who would go from her room straight into another girl’s without a second thought, say all the same things and no one will be the wiser. But the door shuts, leaving them alone for the first time in months. Aaron shoves his hands in his suit pockets and stares out the window as Emily sneers.

“Does your life revolve around embarrassing me now?”  she huffs, looping her hair behind her ear, shoes obnoxiously clunking against the floor as pulls a suitcase from under her bed. “Because if so, you’re doing a real bang-up job.”

“No. My job,” he says, placing emphasis on the word, “is getting you back home like I was ordered to do.”

“So they sent you this time?” She sighs, dumping some empty cups into the trash. “Why am I not surprised?” It’s mid afternoon but she looks exhausted, and Aaron wonders if she even got any sleep at all the night before.

“I’m just following orders,” he says again, following her with his eyes as Emily starts tossing clothes into a bag. There’s no thought to her packing process; she opens drawers and slams them shut, pulling out clothes with a little too much force.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks a little more softly this time, keeping space between them both.

“No.”

As expected.

“You can tell me, you know.”

“Nothing happened,” she says crisply, zipping her suitcase shut. But she doesn’t look at him, which confirms that something definitely happened.

“Then why am I here?”

“Aaron,” Emily says almost teasingly, as if any memory of the last time they spoke has seemingly evaporated from her mind. “This is certainly not the first time my mother has sent one of you up here to come get me for some reason or another. It certainly won’t be the last.”

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble for her to go to.” From the tone of his voice it’s clear he doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“You have met her right? The only person my mother cares about is herself. And her career. She doesn’t care who else is inconvenienced by that.”

He can’t argue with her, and decides to drop it for the time being. There’s a five hour car ride awaiting them; plenty of time to peel her walls down. “If we don’t leave soon we’re going to hit rush hour,” he says patiently, checking his watch. “The sooner we get back, the better.”

She’s quiet for a few minutes, finishing the last of her packing. But finally Emily meets his stare, and for the first time since he arrived, offers a smile. “It’s good to see you, Aaron.”

This time, he almost believes her.

...

“So, who’s your friend?” Aaron asks casually, a half hour into their five hour trip. She’s hardly said a word since taking the passenger seat; her only request was to stop at the gas station for coffee and a pile of sugary candy that she’s started to work her way through. “Rob?”

His question gets the shortest of laughs from Emily as she tips her sunglasses down her nose. “You lasted longer than I thought you would.” Yet she gives nothing else, and he knows he has to push her a little harder.

“He’s kind of an ass,” Aaron says without taking his eyes off the road. “You hang around him a lot?”

“Why?” She challenges, less out of anger rather than amusement. She’s known this question was coming since the minute she saw him standing in the door. “Are you jealous or something?”

He says nothing, only turns his head to stare at her. “Answer my question.”

“Sometimes.” Emily picks at the seam of a bag of peach rings, her eyes on her lap. “You’re not wrong, though, in your assessment.”

“And yet you still hang around him?” He doesn’t bother to hide the distaste in his voice. “Seems like bad news. Is he the reason why I’m here?”

“You’re worried,” she says quietly, crossing and recrossing her legs. “I can tell.”

“Of course I’m worried, Emily. I’m fucking worried to say the least. Can you blame me?”

“You shouldn’t. It’s under control.” Her silence is telling, an indicator that the conversation is over as she pointedly turns to face the window. Aaron swallows in frustration, knowing he pushed a little too far.

Connecticut turns into New York, the miles already starting to blend together in the tense quiet. As the traffic thickens and the SUV comes to a stop, the George Washington bridge looming in the distance, Emily speaks for the first time in more than an hour.

“Aaron?” She says hesitantly, her bottom lip between her teeth with worry. “Can you keep a secret?”

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, alepaolvi!

Apologies for the delay on your birthday gift, @alepaolvi​! We hope you had a wonderful day on October 2, and got exactly the presents you were hoping for! To bring your party back around, the lovely @norbertsmom has written a story just for you!

Author’s Note: Happy belated birthday, @alepaolvi. Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy your arranged marriage fic with a jealous Gale. This is set in Panem au. The revolution happened a few years before it did in canon. You may notice several lines are taken directly from the book, and tweaked to fit this new timeline. Special thanks to my bestie, @mega-aulover for her help. Rated T.

A Different Kind of Reaping

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When I wake up, I reach out for Prim but find the other side of the bed is empty. Prim has her own bed now, but sometimes I forget we’re no longer in the Seam. I prop myself up on one elbow. There’s enough light in the room to see that she’s not in her bed. Of course not. She’s been so excited to help me get ready for today. I’m sure she and mother are up prepping my clothes and making breakfast.

The two of them are so alike, with their blond hair and blue eyes and perky attitude. At fourteen, Prim is fresh faced and as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother is still beautiful, if not a little weary in her grief at the loss of my father. Even seven years later, his absence is still felt, especially today.

I get out of bed and pull on trousers, a shirt, and tuck my long dark braid up under a cap. I slide my stocking feet into my leather hunting boots and grab my bow and sheath of arrows along with my foraging bag.

On the table is a feast fit for celebration: eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. All luxury items just a few years ago, before the war. Now a gift to me on my reaping day.

Reaping day is so different now. Before the revolution, reaping day was the day all district children between the ages of twelve and eighteen had their names put into a drawing. In punishment for the failed first uprising, each of the twelve districts had to provide one boy and one girl, called tributes to participate in the Hunger Games. The twenty-four tributes would be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena to fight to the death. The last standing tribute won.

“Sit down for breakfast, Katniss,” my mother says. “You’ll need your energy today.”

I set my hunting gear down and sit, loading up my plate and tuck into the meal. I want to go out into the woods one last time before the ceremony. Who knows if I’ll be able to go back out after today?

Prim plops down in the chair beside me. “Are you excited, Katniss?” she asks as she loads up her own plate.

“Um,” I hum around a mouthful of food because I really don’t know how I feel. “A little scared, I guess.”

When the revolution was won by the districts, the Hunger Games were abolished. But soon after it was discovered that the population was critically low, and at risk of extinction after all the loss during the war. The new senate that ruled the country with one representative from each district, came up with a plan to help repopulate the nation: arranged marriages.

They decided to reclaim the reaping day as a day to bring new families together. That first reaping day after the war, men and women eighteen and older were matched to form new families. I wasn’t old enough then, but I am now. I don’t know how I feel about having my future decided for me.

I think back on all of the questionnaires we had to complete in our last month of school. We also had to list the names of those we would be happy to be matched with. We weren’t allowed to leave it blank, so I wrote down the one name I secretly wish for, but I’m sure I won’t get.

I may not even be matched this year. Not everyone is matched in their first year, so they have to go through it again the next year. Special deferment was granted for those who fought in the war to put off their reaping a year or two.

“Leave your sister alone, Primrose. She has a big day ahead of her,” mother says as she joins us at the table. She pours herself a large mug of coffee and cups it with both hands, holding it under her nose to breathe it in. She closes her eyes before taking a sip.

I’m the first to finish and get up to leave. “Thanks for breakfast,” I tell them as I grab my gear and head toward the door. I’m in a hurry. My old hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne is back in the district today. I haven’t seen him since he went away to fight in the rebellion. After the fighting was over, he stayed in the military and moved to district three so he could study under the victor Beetee Latier.

“Don’t forget your cheese,” Prim says as she gets up from the table and hands me a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. It’s been a tradition since she started making goat cheese to give them as gifts on special occasions.

“Thank you,” I tell her with a hug as I pocket the cheese.

“Don’t stay out too long, Katniss,” mother says. “You need to report to the Justice Building by one thirty. We need time to get you ready.”

“I won’t,” I tell her as I slip outside.

Our part of District 12 is the merchant quarter. My mother and Prim run the apothecary, but we didn’t always live here. I grew up in the part of the district nicknamed the Seam, where the miners live. The apothecary had been vacant since my grandparents died when the mayor’s mansion was bombed at the start of the revolution. After the war, my mother applied for and was granted permission to take it over.

As I’m skipping down the back steps, I look over to the bakery next door. Peeta Mellark is walking toward the trash bin with a bag in his hand. He looks up at the sound of our door closing. “Hey Katniss,” he says with that contagious smile of his. “Heading out to the woods, I see.” He nods to my hunting gear after placing the bag in the bin.

“Yep,” I tell him with a smile of my own. “Gotta catch dinner for tonight.”

“Ooh. Wild game, that’s one advantage you have over the other girls in the reaping today,” he says, crossing his arms as he leans against the small fence that divides his yard from mine.

“Whatever you say, Mellark,” I tell him, shaking my head. He’s always teasing me about how different I am from the other girls who live in town. Not because I’m from the Seam, but like I’m some unique creature he’d never encountered before.

As I walk down the path I wonder who Peeta will be matched with. He’s such a kind person. He was the only person to help me and my family after my father died. He gave me bread that helped us survive and gave me hope to go on. I’m sure he’ll have no problems finding a match today. Lots of girls will be hoping to be the next baker’s wife. Peeta lost his mom at the start of the war. She was one of those lost in the bombing of the mayor’s mansion.

Even though there’s an entrance to the wood close to home, I make my way through town toward the Seam to the entrance by my old house. It makes me feel closer to my father. That’s where he would take me into the woods when I was a child.

The streets of the Seam are empty today. Usually, the workers would be out heading to their morning shift at the mines or the medicine factory, but the ceremony isn’t until two. Might as well sleep in if you can.

Our old house was almost at the edge of the Seam. I only have to pass a few gates past it to reach the scruffy field we call the Meadow. The barbed wire loops that used to top the high chain-linked fence that separates the Meadow from the woods are gone. The fence remains to keep the wild animals out of the district, but gates have been installed at several locations around the perimeter to allow citizens access to the woods.

As soon as I’m in the trees, I look around for signs of a threat, like packs of wild dogs, bears, venomous snakes, or rabid animals. Inside the woods they roam freely, but there’s also food if you know how to find it. My father knew and he taught me some before he was blown to bits in a mine explosion. There was nothing even to bury. I was eleven then. Seven years later I sometimes still wake up screaming for him. But since Dr. Sidney, the head doctor, came to the district after the war, I’ve learned how to deal with my grief. My nightmares aren’t as frequent. Dr. Sidney helped my mother as well. She no longer lies in bed staring at the walls.

Before the war, trespassing in the woods was illegal, and poaching carried the severest of penalties, but the woods belong to us now, the citizens of District 12. Still, most people aren’t bold enough to venture out unarmed. My bow is a rarity, crafted by my father along with a few others that I keep well hidden in the woods, carefully wrapped in waterproof covers. If my father was still alive, he could have made good money selling them, but before the rebellion, if the officials found him selling weapons, he would have been publicly executed for sedition. Which is kind of ironic since the mine explosion that killed him was one of the catalysts for the rebellion.

We were never prosecuted for poaching back then because most of the Peacekeepers had turned a blind eye to the few of us who hunted. They were as hungry for fresh meat as anybody. Now we get food shipped in from other districts regularly, and I can sell my game openly to the other merchants at their back doors, and at my booth in the open-air market called the Hob.

In the woods waits my hunting partner Gale. I feel myself relaxing and quicken my pace when I think about seeing him again. I only got a quick chat with him yesterday when he arrived, mobbed by his family. He asked if we could meet up to hunt this morning like old times. I climb the hills to our rock ledge overlooking the valley. A thicket of berry bushes keeps it hidden. The sight of him brings on a smile. We used to be the best of friends before he went away.

He looks different than I remember. Not just older; he stands different, ridged and yet alert as if he is waiting for an attack from a wild lone wolf. He’s wearing gray uniform pants, and a faded black shirt. His eyes are sharper; they scan the area, before settling on mine.

“Hey Catnip,” says Gale. He knows my real name, but I had whispered it when we first met so he thought I said catnip. It stuck as a nickname even after all this time.

“Look what I shot,” Gale says as he holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it. I let out an uncomfortable laugh. It’s fine bakery bread, the kind used during a toasting ceremony.

I’m not sure if he’s trying to impress me with what he can buy with his fancy new job, so I take the bread in my hands. I pull the arrow out and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose, inhaling the fragrance that reminds me of the blond haired, blue eyed son of the baker.

“Mm, still warm.” He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to buy it. “Prim gave us cheese,�� I tell him quickly as I pull it out of my pocket.

“Thank you, Prim,” Gale says as he pulls out a shiny knife from a sheath on his hip. I watch as he slices the bread. He could be my brother, same straight black hair, although his is cut short in a military style, same olive complexion, we even have the same gray eyes. We’re not related, at least not closely. Most of the families in the Seam resemble one another this way.

That’s why my mother and Prim, with their light hair and blue eyes used to look out of place when we lived in the Seam. They were. My mother’s parents were merchants. They ran the apothecary. That’s why she got it after the war. Now I’m the one out of place. I have the look of the Seam, but I live in town.

My father got to know my mother because he would collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop. She really loved him to leave her home for the Seam. Back then, the homes in the Seam were nothing more than shacks really. We had to boil water from the spigot in the yard if we wanted it hot. After the war, all of the squat gray houses in the Seam were replaced with new homes that are well insulated with running hot and cold water and reliable electricity.

Gale spreads the bread slices with the soft goat cheese, carefully placing a basil leaf on each slice while I strip the bushes of their berries. We settle back in the nook in our rock. I don’t eat much, since I already had breakfast, but it’s a nice treat. Everything would be perfect if all this day off meant was roaming the woods with Gale for a casual family dinner tonight, catching up on how our lives have changed since the war ended, but instead it feels awkward, like I’m here with a stranger instead of my old friend Gale.

“What’s it like in District 3?” I ask quietly to break the awkward silence between us. It was never like this before. He would rant about the unfair treatment the citizens endured, and how we should rise up against them. But now that the revolution is over and won, we don’t really have much to say.

“It’s alright, but I’ll be moving to District 2 after the ceremony. You’ll love it there. Mountains bigger than these. Lots of woods to hunt in.”

“Why would I want to go to District 2?” I ask. The idea is preposterous. I can’t leave my sister. Before the war, the fantasy was to run off, and live in the woods, but this conversation feels all wrong now. There’s never been anything romantic between Gale and me. When we met, I was a skinny twelve-year-old, and although he was only two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long time for us to even become friends, to stop haggling over every trade. Then he went off to war and moved to District 3 as a hero. His hero status gave him the option to postpone his reaping until this year.

Gale’s good looking, strong from his time as a soldier, and he has a good job in another district. He will be a desirable match at the reaping today. I don’t know why he would want me.

“Forget it,” he snaps.

I let out a breath and ask, “What do you want to do, hunt, fish, or gather?”

“Let’s fish at the lake,” he says. “We can leave our poles and gather in the woods. Get something nice for tonight’s betrothal meal.”

Tonight, after the reaping, everyone is supposed to celebrate, but I’ll be betrothed. I’ll be spending time with my intended. He and his family will come to my house so we can get to know one another. Does Gale hope it will be him?

We fall into the comfortable silence I remember from hunting with him before he left. By late morning, we have a dozen fish, a bag of greens, and best of all, a gallon of strawberries.  

On the way home, we swing by the Hob and trade half the fish and greens for fresh vegetables. Greasy Sae gives us a nod as we walk by. Even with the beef and chicken coming in from other districts, her wild game soup that she calls beef is always a hit. The customers around her booth are talking away about today’s reaping.

When we finish at the Hob, we go to the back of the mayor’s home to sell half of the strawberries. The mayor lives in a modest house not unlike the others in the district. After the war, the residents of the district realized that the old mayor’s mansion was just another tool the Capitol used to keep us in the district divided. The poor people of the Seam resented the wealth the mayor and the merchants had. So when the mayor’s home was rebuilt, he had it built the same as all the others.

The mayor’s daughter Madge answers the door. She was in my year at school, and my closest friend since Gale left. Her everyday outfit has been replaced by an expensive white dress, and her blonde hair is done up with a pink ribbon. Clothes fitting for the betrothal reaping.

“Pretty dress,” says Gale.

Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it’s a genuine compliment. He used to antagonize her when we were younger, but now that he’s been gone for a few years it’s hard to tell. She presses her lips together and smiles. “Well I have to look nice for my reaping today, don’t I?”

“I’m sure you’ll have the match you want,” Gale says with a scoff.

Madge’s face has become closed off. She puts the money for the strawberries in my hand. “Good luck, Katniss.”

“You too,” I say, and the door closes.

I turn to Gale, “What did you mean by that?”

“Her father’s the mayor. People in power can influence the outcome of the reaping,” Gale says.

Madge’s father isn’t just the mayor. He was quite influential during the war. He was able to convince the residents of District 12 to join the revolution by bringing in Annie Cresta. Then he became our district’s liaison with the rest of the rebels.

Annie Cresta was the last Victor of the Hunger Games,and the spark that started the rebellion. She won the summer after my father died in the mining explosion. During her interview, after winning her games, she started screaming about her father and brother who were lost at sea with a whole ship full of fishermen just before her games. The Capitol played it off as her going mad. But during her victory tour she was more subdued, she would compare her district’s loss to the loss each district had suffered from a tragedy that same year.

The rumors started that perhaps the mine explosion that killed my father wasn’t an accident, but a sabotage to take out the rebel miners who had been planning an uprising. While in District 11, she talked about the silo collapse, in District 10 the stampede, and so on until she had rallied half the country behind her. Before her tour reached the Capitol, District 13 re-emerged from the ashes to sweep her off to be the face of the rebellion.

District 12 was one of the last districts still neutral to the rebellion even though the mayor tried to get our residents involved. He asked Annie Cresta to come back, to rally us to join the cause. Most of our Peacekeepers were recalled to the Capitol to fight off the uprisings in other districts. Those who stayed behind were sympathetic to the districts’ plight. The residents of District 12 wanted to wait out the war. If we didn’t join in, nothing would happen to us.

After the rally, while most of the residents of the district were at home debating why we should join the rebellion, the mayor hosted a dinner for Annie with the most influential Merchants and Seam residents. After the dinner was over, the mayor, his daughter Madge and a few others were seeing Annie off to her hovercraft back to District 13 when the mayor’s mansion was bombed by the Capitol. All those still inside were killed, including the mayor’s wife, his staff, my grandparents and many others.

The rally that day, along with the bombing that took out the mayor’s mansion, is what finally convinced the residents of District 12 to join the rebellion. We couldn’t stay neutral. The war came to us. Gale, among others old enough, went off to fight in the war. Not everyone came home. The baker’s oldest son died. Gale stayed in the military.

As we walk back toward my house, I glance over at Gale, still wondering why he came home this year. He could have participated in the reaping in his new district. I hope he didn’t come back here for me.

Gale and I arrive at the divide between the Seam and town and split up our spoils.

“See you in the square,” I say.

“Wear something pretty,” he says flatly as he walks towards his mother’s house in the Seam.

When I get home, Peeta is in the yard next door, feeding the pigs. “Hey, Katniss,” he says. “Good day hunting?”

“Yep, got some fish and greens for tonight,” I tell him.

“I’ve got a few recipes you can try out on your new family if you want?”

“Sure, that last one with the nuts was nice.” Curious I get closer. “So are you ready?”

He stops feeding the pigs. “I’m nervous,” he confesses.

“Nervous?” Peeta has nothing to be nervous about. He’s good like my sister Prim. Any of the women today would be lucky to have him.

“Well, what if the girl they pick for me doesn’t erm,” his face turned pink. “Well, like me.”

What he is saying is impossible.

“My parents didn’t have the best marriage, you know.”

I nod. I can see why he would be anxious. His parents did not get along; they hated each other but miraculously, had three boys.

I wish I had the words to be able to tell him that he had nothing to worry about. But nothing comes.

"Listen, I'll see you at the reaping. I've got to get ready. Don't want to scare my bride away by smelling like a pig pen."

I shake my head and laugh. When I go inside my mother sets aside her knitting and jumps up from her chair. “There you are,” she says as she helps me remove my hunting gear. She hands my bag to Prim and ushers me into the bathroom. “Get yourself a shower. You need to start getting ready.”

I scrub off the dirt and sweat from the woods and wash my hair. When I’m done I find my favorite dress from my mother’s collection laid out on my bed. A soft orange, with white lace insets near the collar, and a tie at the waist. “Are you sure?” I ask.

“Of course. I’ll fix your hair,” she says.

After I’m dressed, I sit at the vanity as she towel dries my hair and I watch as she braids it up into a crown on top of my head. I hardly recognize myself in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” says Prim in a hushed voice.

“And nothing like myself,” I say as I hug her. Things are going to be so different after the reaping today.

Prim and mother get dressed. We have a quick lunch and then it’s time to go to the Justice Building to check in.

As we head toward the square, we are joined by others headed that way. Attendance is not mandatory like it was for the Hunger Games reapings, but most people show up anyway.

Mother and Prim hug me goodbye when I go into the Justice Building. After checking in, I’m ushered into the women’s waiting room. I find Madge and join her at the refreshment table.

At precisely 1:45, our escort, Effie Trinket, comes into the room. Miss Trinket was on track to be an escort for the Hunger Games, but she was actually a rebel working inside the system to help bring it down. After the revolution she became our escort for the betrothal reaping. Her bright pink clothes and makeup, while much more flamboyant than what those of us in the district would wear, is nowhere near as garish as the makeup and outfits worn by our last Hunger Games escort.

“Ladies, it’s time to follow me out onto the stage,” Effie says and we all line up to follow her out.

As we go out onto the stage, a cheer begins to rise from the crowd gathered in front of the Justice Building. Effie escorts us to the several rows of seats arranged on the left side of the stage. Madge and I sit next to each other.

Once we are all seated, Effie goes back into the building, but comes out a few minutes later followed by the group of men for the reaping. She escorts them to the seats on the right side of the stage. They are all wearing their best suits. Peeta gives me a wave before he sits in the second row. Gale sits in the front row in his military uniform.

At precisely 2 o’clock, Mayor Undersee steps up to the podium and begins his speech. He talks about the history of Panem: the dark days, the first failed rebellion, the 70 years of the Hunger Games, and then the revolution that freed Panem. He talks about how we have to rebuild Panem, the population lost from the Games and the war. Which brings us to today, the Betrothal Reaping. He then introduces Effie Trinket.

“Welcome, welcome,” Effie says. “It’s such an honor to be here, to help bring together the families who will be the future of our country.” She goes on to explain how the selections are not random. The answers we gave in the surveys taken during school, as well as our DNA were used to determine the matches. “Now, onto the pairings!” she says, and with a flair of her hand pulled out a stack of envelopes.

She plucks the first envelope from the stack and calls out, “Delly Cartwright!”

Delly jumps up from her seat, and quickly walks up to stand next to Effie. Delly is practically vibrating in anticipation. I wish I could be that excited. I just hope I get someone I can stand.

“And your match is,” Effie pauses dramatically, “Thom Davison!”

Thom, one of Gale’s old classmates who didn’t get matched in his previous two reapings, looks around bewildered. He gets a nudge from the person sitting next to him before he gets up and walks up to the podium to formally meet Delly.

Delly and Thom are ushered to the back of the stage where they stand next to each other whispering, with big smiles on their faces. I guess that means they are happy with that match.

“Very good,” says Effie. “Our next match is the mayor’s daughter, Madge Undersee.”

I squeeze Madge’s hand and she stands and gracefully walks up to stand next to Effie Trinket.

“And your match is… the local hero, Gale Hawthorne!” Effie exclaims. A quiet murmur goes through the crowd. That pairing was unexpected. I think everyone expected me to be paired with Gale, but I know it would have never worked out, we’re too alike.

Gale doesn’t look very happy at his selection, but stands and walks up to meet Madge. They stiffly shake hands, then walk back to stand next to Delly and Thom. It’s quite the contrast between the two pairs.

“Wonderful!” Effie says with a little too much enthusiasm. “Next up we have, Katniss Everdeen.”

I stand up slowly, then stiffly walk to stand next to the podium.

“And your partner is… Peeta Mellark,” Effie calls out.

My eyes go wide as I think, Oh, it’s him, my neighbor, my friend. The boy, no man, I correct myself, who saved my life and gave me hope. The man who reminded me that I was not doomed. The man who’s name I wrote on my questionnaire. I feel a smile come across my face as I watch Peeta get up and walk toward me. The smile on his face matches mine.

When he reaches me we stand and stare at each other for a moment before Effie Trinket clears her throat. “Go ahead, shake hands,” she urges. Peeta's large warm hand engulfs mine, and he gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Go ahead,” she tells us, nudging us toward the back of the stage.

When I drop Peeta’s hand, I feel the loss of warmth immediately, but I feel his hand at the small of my back as he escorts me to join the others. “Told ya I’d see you at the reaping,” Peeta whispers in my ear, and I can’t help but laugh. After that, I’m in a bit of a daze and miss most of the remaining matches.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, Effie dismisses the few remaining people who didn’t get paired up and calls the matched pairs to the front of the stage. Delly and Thom lead the way, arm in arm. Madge and Gale walk stiffly side by side. Peeta takes my hand and leads me toward the front of the stage, and the couples behind us follow suit. When we are all lined up, Effie calls out, “District 12, I give you your new couples. Please join us in the reception hall for family introductions.”

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That’s the end of part 1. This will continue as a work in progress.

A few notes: Dr. Sidney is named after Dr. Sidney Freedman from the final episode of the TV show M*A*S*H. He helped the main character work through his PTSD. Thom Davison is named for Dave Thomas of Wendy’s fame, who seemed like such a sweet man. The character Thom in canon is only mentioned a few times, but he is such a great guy. Gale’s friend who helps carry him back after the reaping, and then after the war Thom comes back and takes on the task of clearing away the debris so the district can rebuild.

[bombshellbois]

Lessons in Babysitting

For @hoegrove and her amazing Double Trouble AU (if you haven’t seen it yet, please go pour over the entire thing because it’s hilarious)

Steve doesn’t know what he’s expecting when Billy’s Camaro pulls up outside the house that afternoon. He’s not expecting anything, really. Billy shows up all the time unannounced, and Steve has no problem with that. Billy does better at stuff where he doesn’t need permission because every form of authority offends him, including basic manners. Steve just pulls an extra Coke from the fridge and braces himself to deal with Billy pouting when he gets told there won’t be any sex or making out until the kids leave. In all fairness, he told him already that they would be over here this afternoon to play their nerd game while the Wheeler basement is drying out from a recent leak.

The lock pops and the door gets shoved open.

“Holy shit, we’re in key territory already??” Billy asks as he’s shoved inside. Steve thinks at first that he got a haircut. And a tan. And... younger? Steve is trying to piece together what he can pin that on (really good night’s sleep?) when another Billy lumbers in behind.... Billy. His Billy lumbers in. Long haired and a little weary, tan tamed by the Indiana seasons.

“Don’t touch my stuff,” Billy says, slapping Billy... not-Steve’s-Billy’s hand away when he reaches for the keys.

“You didn’t tell me we were at the key stage with our boyfriend, dude!”

“He’s my boyfriend.” Billy slams the door shut. “And quit calling me dude.”

“What... the hell is going on?” Steve asks faintly, approaching his boyfriend and the cheerful doppelgänger slowly.

“Hi!” Not-Steve’s-Billy says, taking Steve’s Coke and drinking from it. The open one.

“I put my mouth on that,” Steve protests belatedly while his brain is trying to come up with a way to process what he’s seeing. Chastising bad manners and poor health practices seems like... under-reacting.

“Yeah, but we’re dating, so it’s just indirect kissing.” Not-Steve’s-Billy waggles his eyebrows at Steve and it immediately makes Steve think of Dustin trying to act charming.

“...Yeah, don’t do that.”

“I’ve got a good idea where else you could put your mou—” Not-Steve’s-Billy gets cut off when Billy grabs the back of his jacket and hauls him out of the kitchen and to the basement door, shoving him inside. He slams the door shut and flips the lock. Mercifully, there are no sounds of a body falling down the stairs. Just rapid knocking from the other side.

“Hey! What’s your damage, dude??”

Billy ignores the yelling and comes back into the kitchen. He grabs Steve’s shoulders and pulls him close, knocking their foreheads together gently.

“Okay. So. We need to talk.”

“You think?” Steve says, raising his eyebrows. “What the hell, Billy?”

***

It takes 2 beers to get the full story out of Billy. Steve doesn’t necessarily like encouraging drinking at 3 in the afternoon, but his boyfriend just locked a younger version of himself in the basement. It seems like a definite moment to allow extremes.

Not that the full story is in any way clear. Something about sleep walking (which Billy should have told Steve about but didn’t, of course) and the Upside Down and another gate that probably almost definitely closed and isn’t a big deal. It’s a lot of really bad things to hear but in a really vague and unhelpful format. Nothing he could, for instance, take to Hopper as a thing to be investigated.

Steve kind of wants a beer himself.

“And so now he’s here. And he won’t get it through his thick skull that he doesn’t get to share all of my stuff. Including my boyfriend.” Billy tips back his head and takes a long drink of a third beer. Steve sets a hand on the bottle and makes him lower it back down when the air bubbles start glugging to the top with concerning speed.

“Should we... try to get him back to his mom or something?” he asks.

Billy slams the bottle down on the table. “Sure, Steve. Lemme just go see if there’s a fucking receipt stapled to the back of his shirt so I can return him. How hard can it be to get to another dimension? Oh wait, the only one we ever manage to get to is full of fucking nightmares.”

Steve leans his elbow on the table and rests his chin on the heel of his hand, waiting out the storm. Fine, it was a stupid question. The dramatics are a bit much, though. “Okay. Maybe we focus on something shorter term,” he says.

Billy scrubs a hand over his face, wiping away the withering glare and replacing it with something more tired. Something that looks like no sleep and too much beer too quickly too early in the day. “Christ. Sorry, I’m being a dick.”

“You are,” Steve agrees, standing and clearing the empty bottles. “But it sounds like it’s been a rough day.”

Billy catches Steve’s collar and pulls him closer, kissing his forehead. “Thanks, pretty boy. Look, just... give me a few babysitting tips and I’ll get out of your hair before your nerds get here. I dunno what the hell to actually do with him.”

Steve is about to tell Billy that he’s not leaving unless he’s letting his younger self drive (which- ha! Not even Steve gets to drive the Camaro. Or sit in the driver’s seat), but he pauses and frowns. “Before... they’re already here, Billy.”

Billy blinks and pulls his mouth off the lip of his bottle. The suction releases with a ‘pop.’ “What? Why’s it so quiet? Where the hell are they?”

“In... the basement?” Steve raises his eyebrows. “Where else would they play their game? It has to feel like a dungeon or something.” Dustin explained it once, using words like ‘atmosphere’ and ‘aesthetics’ and ‘acoustics.’ It all boils down, Steve thinks, to needing no windows so they can’t tell when they’ve been playing for four hours.

Billy looks at the clock. “How long has he been down there with them?”

“An hour, maybe? Did you seriously mean to lock that poor kid in the basement alone??”

“Oh don’t do that hands-on-the-hips thing at me, Harrington,” Billy huffs, scrambling to his feet and sprinting for the basement door. Steve follows after him, catching up just as Billy unlocks the door and hurries down the steps, grabbing the back of his collar to keep him from stumbling on the way down.

Not-Steve’s-Billy is sprawled nearly sideways on one folding chair, another pulled over for the express purpose of propping one leg on. Mike is standing across the rickety card table from him, where their map and shit are spread out, holding a book out with the pages facing Billy. He’s pointing at a drawing.

“Do you see the scaling? You don’t even come up to his knee!” Mike jabs a finger at the page. “You’re tiny!”

Not-Steve’s-Billy shrugs. “So?”

“So this thing can kill you by existing near you,” Lucas adds. “It’s pure evil.”

“Still wanna flirt with it.”

“You can’t flirt with a Nightwalker!” Mike insists. “It’s a giant, evil, undead demon!”

“Uh, I have...” Not-Steve’s-Billy picks up a piece of paper in front of him. “...charisma points that say I can. So lemme try and get into this thing’s pants.”

Mike blusters. “It doesn’t have pants!”

“I mean, technically it’s not against the rules,” Dustin admits, ever the diplomat. “Mr. Clarke always says you have to think outside the box if your problems don’t fit in the box.”

“The Nightwalker can’t speak,” Will protests. “It won’t understand you, and also Mike said it’s a guy!”

Not-Steve’s-Billy pats Will’s back. “Don’t you worry, kid. We’ve got body language and that’s all we need.” He holds his hand out. “Dice.”

“Don’t let him, Mike,” Lucas begs, sounding vaguely terrified. “What if he makes a good throw? I don’t wanna know what he does with the Nightwalker!”

“What the fuck?” Billy stalks over and grabs the die Dustin was handing over. “I leave you alone for an hour and you turn into a nerd?”

“Hey! My character has gotten laid twice already.” Not-Steve’s-Billy taps his paper. “He’s a...” He pauses and looks at Will. “Wiseman. What the hell am I again?”

Will sighs. “A bard. You wanted a guitar.”

Not-Steve’s-Billy bumps his shoulder to Will’s in thanks and smirks up at Billy. “My bard is getting every kind of action over here. This is so not a nerd game.”

“Shit.” Steve scrubs his hair back. “You guys already took sex ed, right?” Please let there be nothing Steve suddenly has to explain. He’s not ready for that. When he gets four slightly-numb nods in return, it feels like he can breathe again.

“You can’t just add sex and think it removes the nerd overtones.” Billy tosses the die aside. “Move your ass, we’re going.”

Lucas makes a shrill sound that Steve bets the other guys will mimic for Max for a long time. “A 20! He rolled a 20!” He clasps his hands over his ears. “Don’t tell me what a 20 means!”

“Wait, is that good?” Not-Steve’s-Billy looks around the table. “Do I get to fuck the Night-thing?”

“Okay, thanks for being so nice to Billy’s... friend, gotta go, you kids play nice,” Steve calls over his shoulder as he and Billy drag Not-Steve’s-Billy up the stairs and out of the basement.

“Wiseman!” Not-Steve’s-Billy calls back down the stairs. “Wiseman, save my stats for me!”

The basement door shuts. It’s quiet. Dustin dutifully reaches over and pushes the die, flipping the upturned number to a 3.

Mike sits down, still clutching his book. “Okay,” he says slowly. “The Nightwalker devoured his soul. And we never speak of him again.”

[packsawaythesnacks93]

Three Warners and a Little Lady 2/12

(Now we know how long the fic ended up being. Hope you guys are enjoying this!) 

Two

Wakko watched the girl as she slept. He’d stopped poking her to check her a while ago. He wanted to wake her up so they could play a game, but Yakko insisted, even begrudgingly, they let her sleep off whatever was wrong. “We should get her down soon. The lights are dimming.”

“Yeah.” Dot was propped up against the cushion, reading a comic book. “I wish she didn’t have to go, though.”

“We can’t keep her even if we do think it’s a good idea.” Yakko said wisely. 

“She’s not a pet.” Wakko watched his older brother pace. “But do you think we can convince her to come back again?”

“Maybe.” Wakko perked up as Monica  began to stir. “Hey, are you feelin’ better?” He asked. “I mean, it’s about time for your Mum to be awake, isn’t it?”

“A little…” Monica was eyeing them. “So it wasn’t a dream…”

“Nope!” Dot said cheerfully. “Let’s get you back to your Mom now though. It’s almost time for things to close.”

“I’ll go.” Wakko volunteered. “I like to get one of their leftovers anyway.” He pulled Monica up from the pillow. “We need to reinflate that.”

“What, so it can make more gross noises?” Monica asked, making a face.

“OF course! That’s the fun part, silly!” Yakko said. “Bye bye!” He waved as Wakko led her out of the tower.

“So. Do you really not remember our show at all?” Wakko asked. “I find it hard to believe.”

“I saw it. Once or twice. But I was young.” Monica said. “Wakko, right? Do you…have a family?”

“Sure do. Yakko and Dot.” Wakko said. “It’s nice, not having nagging parents telling us what to do.”

“Must be nice.” Monica muttered. She fell silent. “I wish I didn’t have to go home. I mean, I don’t like coming here on take your child to work day, but at least I’m not at home, or at school.”

Wakko paused. “What do you mean? Your mother seems like a nice woman.” He found that this was a serious discussion. It was hard for him to focus on serious things, but he would, for now.

“She is, Wakko. My brother is not a nice boy.” She shuddered. “Whatever. It’s not like you guys can help me.”

Wakko moved to stand in front of her. “Maybe we can, somehow.” Wakko wasn’t sure how, yet. Serious was not something they did on the regular. But he liked Monica. Even if it was weird that she didn’t share their sense of fun for her age. He pulled a phone out of his pants pocket, and called his brother and sister. “Hey, guys. We may have something to do after all. Meet me at the gate.” He hung up and pushed the phone back in his pocket.

Monica giggled. “Where did that phone come from?”

“I’m a cartoon. Doesn’t matter.” Wakko grabbed her hand, and hurried them closer to the gate. “Your mother will probably want to meet up with you. We’ll come, too.”

Monica raised an eyebrow. “I think my mom will notice three strange characters following us around…”

“You don’t know much about us, do you?” Dot’s voice asked. She and Yakko appeared out of nowhere. “We can be very…subtle when we have to be.” Just as she finished speaking, Ralph came out of his booth. “Hey, Ralphie, baby. How you doing?”

“You! You’re not supposed to be bothering the guests, or the employees’ families!”

“Aw, come on. We didn’t hurt anything. Besides. Monica here didn’t mind. Did you?” Wakko patted Monica on the arm.

“Not really.” Monica offered. “Hey, Ralph.” She waved a bit. “Have you seen my mom?”

“Last I saw her she was in the CEO’s office. Didn’t sound good.” Ralph said.

Wakko looked at Yakko and Dot. “This doesn’t sound good at all.”

“Nope. Come on, let’s go see what’s going on.” Yakko took the lead, and Wakko followed. Dot brought up the rear, with Monica following.

“What are we gonna do?” Monica asked. “I don’t think we should interfere..”

“Boy, you really haven’t seen our show.” Yakko said. “Wakko, tell her all about it.”

“We get away with lots of things.” Wakko told Monica. “Like interrupting adults who are doing silly things.” With that, he pushed the door open, and they scurried into an elevator. “Really, if you’re gonna hang with us, you’re going to have to embrace it.”

Monica smiled. “I might be able to do that…” She allowed. Then she straightened as the elevator came to a halt. She could hear yelling from the hall. “This is not good…”

“You can’t fire me. I’m a single mother. I need this.” ­

“They can’t fire her! Mama needs this job.” Monica hissed. “This isn’t good…”

“Leave it to us!” Yakko barged into the office then. Wakko followed pausing briefly to squeeze Monica’s hand reassuringly.

In the office, Wakko took stock of the situation. “Hey, boss lady ma’m. You can’t just fire someone without warnin’ them first.”

“You three are not a part of this.” The CEO began. But Yakko was already stomping on the desk, and going through the files there. “Hey, get your hands off that…”

“Guys, she looks stressed.” Dot jumped up on the back of the woman’s chair and began to massage the woman’s shoulders.

“She’s had perfect attendance, nothing but high marks. What’s the deal, CEO Woman?”

Melisa’s mother, meanwhile, stared at the three of them with wide eyes. “You three are the Warners… aren’t you supposed to be locked away?”

“Yes. They. Are!” The CEO Woman stood, shaking Dot off so that their youngest sister ended up on the floor.

“You can’t keep them locked up!” Monica’s voice came from behind the whole group. She looked as though she was feeling better , and that made Wakko even happier to be causing trouble for the CEO. “They don’t deserve it.”

“Young lady, you don’t know what you’re talking about. They’re insane, and can’’t’ be controlled. Most cartoons have at least a little decorum!”

“Monica, please wait outside.” Her mother spoke up then.

“I won’t let them be locked up anymore.” Monica stated then, surprising Wakko. She must of have surprised Yakko and Dot, too, because they stopped what they were doing to stare at their new friend.

“Eh, don’t worry about us.” Yakko said. “We’re used to it, really, and besides, we break out so often that we’re barely in there.” He turned back to the CEO. “Listen, lady. We’ll give you a break, but you can’t fire this woman.”

“You mean you’ll stay where you’re told. If I let Celia keep her job?” The CEO gave them a doubtful look.

“Promise! Cross my heart.” Wakko said. He held his fingers crossed behind his back.

“Us too!” Dot and Yakko chorused. Wakko was sure they were crossing their fingers, too.

“Sure, why not.” The CEO turned to the woman and Monica. “Fine. One more chance. Now get out.”

Monica flashed the Warners a grateful smile before turning and leaving with her mother.

After a moment, Wakko and his siblings left, too, leaving a mess in their wake. Just how they liked it.