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p1a9u3 · 4 months

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PeepHole Ch.1: Moving Day

Masterpost Ch.1 - Ch.2 Pairing: Dylan Matthews x Fem Oc

Rating: 18+ (mdni)

Genre: Neighbors/Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Slow-burn

Summary: Moving isn't as exciting as Amoya thought, plus she may have pissed off her new neighbor.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: (This story takes place in 2024) Mental illness (anxiety, ocd), Violent intrusive thoughts, Language, Age gap (5years), Using phone while driving

Status: Unedited

Author note: This is the first fic that I've ever posted, I've written before but I've never finished anything and published it so don't tear me to shreds, please. I chose to make an oc instead of just writing as a reader mainly because I made a whole character in my head before I wrote this so I decided to just make her an oc, if you would like a post going more into this oc of mine feel free to ask (I might post it anyway because I like her), there is no smut in this chapter btw. Please give me feedback and suggestions, constructive criticism, etc. Don't be a bitch about it though...please. I'm thinking of making this a series POSSIBLY, but I procrastinate a lot so that may never happen. To my fellow troublemakers hopefully, I do Dylan justice and my writing is at least a little bit accurate to his personality. Still, to be fair I'm a fairly new troublemaker having only found out about this man a few weeks ago, so if something isn't accurate please correct me...politely. He's become my new hyper fixation so when I saw there aren't really any fics about him I decided I should make my own so here we are. Anyway with that being said Enjoy <3. Update: Dylan is barely in this chapter

Monday, February 26, 2024 Time: 8:30AM Moving out was less relieving than you thought it would be. Having been by your mother's side for almost all your life, you'd gotten comfortable always having someone around.

'You can't live with your parents forever'

People would remind you whenever the topic of anyone's living situation would be brought up. Being twenty-seven and still living with your mother wasn't something you wanted to keep telling people, no one would take you seriously. Though your mother never pushed for you to move out, never mentioned it actually. You think you know why. You never say anything though, so you deal with the slight embarrassment, and ignore the judgmental stares you get whenever someone brings it up.

'They don't know our relationship'

More excuses you make up to justify your obstinance; and to mask the anxiety you're feeling as finish up packing your U-Haul. You had finished packing your stuff from your shared apartment and were now finishing the few boxes you had in storage. Now in the elevator mustering up the strength to carry the last two boxes back down to the truck. Grabbing the lock you had left on the floor, you place it on top of one of the boxes and stack the box onto the second one, bending down and lifting with a soft grunt. Long strides carrying you to the elevator, you push the down button with your foot. The doors open soon after, you step inside setting the boxes down as you push the bottom floor and wait. Pushing off the wall as the doors open you pick up the boxes once again, you quickly load them up into the U-Haul before grabbing the padlock from on top of the box, and then heading to the front desk of the storage building.

"Here, the unit is clean and empty." You smile at the woman as she takes the lock and keys with a thank you.

Turning on your heels you walk back to your U-Haul giving everything a once-over before locking it all up, now turning your attention to the hitch attached to the back of the Truck where your precious car is hitched too. It was a black and cherry red 1993 Nissan 240SX with a red interior, you had seen it while driving with your mom past a repair shop when you were 25, back then it had no windshield or wheels. You won't lie and say you fixed it yourself but you did invest all the money you had at that time to fix it up and color it how you wanted; you still would say it was worth it. Checking the hitch and chains attached to the bottom of the car making sure everything was set and ready.

"Everything looks good?" Your mother said making you jump

"Yah! A warning ma, please! And yes everything looks good, I packed up the last two boxes and returned the keys and lock to the front desk while you were in the bathroom." You let out a breath calming your heart from the scare you just had, your mom snickering next to you. You turn to her rolling your eyes playfully as you walk to the front of the truck, your mom following behind you.

"Good, let's get on the road." Your mom hops into the passenger seat and rolls down the window. "I wanna get home by Wednesday."

You climb into the driver's seat, buckling your seatbelt then checking your mirrors. You two had agreed on driving to your new apartment, taking turns every 5 hours, once you got there she'd help you unload and unpack on Tuesday, and your mom would then fly back to New Orleans on Wednesday. The more you think about it the more you feel yourself panic a bit.

"Okay."

Time: 9:00AM Starting the car, you let out a breath putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot of the storage building. You could tell your mom was trying to keep herself calm by the way she would rub her right thigh with her right hand, it was a nervous tick she passed down to you. Unfortunately, you were just as nervous, so you decided to turn on the playlist you and your mom made while eating the night before, mixes of all kinds of genres put into one playlist to keep you both entertained during the drive. Pulling off the main road and merging onto the freeway, you glance over to your mom to see her smiling wide looking back at you. She has that look in her eyes, you know it well.

"Its happening ma." You smile back at your mom then look back to the road

Your mother places her hand on your thigh, letting out a long sigh and a soft squeeze before returning it back to her own lap. You see her wipe a single tear from your peripheral; you don't acknowledge it. She'll start bawling the second you tell her not to cry. So you pretend not to see it and start singing along to Erykah Badu, your mom turns the music up a bit and starts singing along too. You smile to yourself as you glance out your side window, watching as familiar buildings pass by in a blur, You think you'll miss this place. No, you know you will, but a part of you is kinda excited, relieved almost. You've silently always longed to live on your own, but another part of you calls you selfish for even wanting that until now

'How could want to leave your mother'

You know it's normal to want to move out of your parent's home, every grown adult has to move out at some point, and twenty-seven is a perfectly normal age to do so, You wanted to move when you were twenty-four. Hell, some people live with their parents till they are far in their thirties.

'But you know your mother may need you right'

All your brothers have moved out, they are doing good on their own, and you're the only one left. It was only a matter of time; you tell yourself. Your mom will be fine, she's dating a new man who treats her great and takes care of her. Hell he tried to hire a moving crew to move all your stuff, but you wanted to do it yourself and your mom wasn't going to let you drive almost halfway across the country by yourself.

'you could've found a place closer to her you know'

Phoenix, Arizona. You chose Phenix simply because it was affordable for you and close to LA, your mom agreed it was a good choice. There is work in LA, California is just so expensive, so you chose the next best thing. The apartment is nice from what you saw as well, one bedroom, two baths with a study. It was perfect for you.

Time: 11:23AM The drive was going well so far, your mother eating a bag of chips she packed along with all the other snacks and drinks. You were eating a Honeybun, one of your favorite snacks, and drinking water. Your mom had turned off the music and started watching YouTube with mostly commentary so you could listen and drive, Right now a video was playing talking about some ice cream drama in North Dakota. Author note: if you watched this video featuring Dylan is in Trouble, I know it's technically in the future but I don't care, this is all fake anyway. You found it interesting and kinda funny, laughing every now and then when your mom would pause to add her opinion. About two-thirds of the way into the video you glance down at the screen, there are two guys now instead of one, and one of them is wearing glasses, you glance back down looking at the title of the video 'Insane Local Ice Cream Shop Drama (w/ Dylan Is In Trouble)' You made a mental note of the second guy's name for later, his voice was nice you told yourself, he was also fine as fuck. You leaned your seat back as far as it would go, which wasn't very far, getting comfortable. You still have two more hours left to drive.

Time: 12:35PM Your mom had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, YouTube was still playing, The next video had been the same guy as before. You looked down for a second, looking at the title of the video that had been playing for about fifteen minutes. 'Guessing Finales After ONE Episode (ft. Dylan Is In Trouble)' You smile to yourself a bit recognizing the name at the end of the title, you let the video play just listening to the guy talk for ten more minutes. You caught yourself smiling again when you recognized the second guy's voice as he joined in for the rest of the video, you took a sip of your water glancing down at the video, seeing him pop on screen whenever he had something to say

"he's funny." You mutter to yourself quietly, thinking out loud.

The video had ended and your lips fell back into their original position, as an ad played before the next queued-up video, you looked down at your GPS. 1322 miles to go; you let out a sigh.

'200 miles closer to leaving you mom'

She was helping you unpack, so you technically wouldn't be leaving her really. If anything she was leaving you since she had to fly back home. You prop your left elbow on the open window, your left hand holding the steering wheel, and your right hand comes down to your thigh, rubbing small circles back and forth.

'What happens if Devon goes back home'

Your oldest brother Devon was working at a mental facility. He was on his medication and was doing good, he managed to get a job there and has been making decent money. He was doing fine, He is doing fine.

'What if he stops taking his medication again.'

They will keep tabs on him, they know his habits, his symptoms, He is fine.

'Has another episode and gets out'

That wouldn't happen. He's fine

'He'll be there when mom gets back'

No.

"Hes gonna ki-'

-beep! beep! beep!-

Time: 2:00PM Your mom's alarm goes off, making you jump a bit. Reaching over to turn it off, your mom moans a bit as she wakes up from her short nap, stretching her arms a bit as she yawns.

"Jeste li spremni za promjenu." she yawns out, going for a sip of her water ( translation: Are you ready to switch)

Your mother's Croatian tends to slip when she's just woken up, or delirious. You nod your head looking at the next exit sign to find a gas station, spotting a Love's off the side of the freeway. Slipping off the freeway you pull up to the gas station before parking next to a pump.

"Bathroom?" You look over at your mom, she nods, unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck, you do the same.

You both enter opposing stalls to relieve yourselves of all the water you had been drinking, washing your hands after. Your mother heads back to the truck to pump the gas as you browse the aisles for any extra snacks, spotting a honeybun you instinctively grab one, then two, and head to the cashier. You place your honeybuns on the counter and then look up at the cashier who seems to be invested in something on her phone, she wasn't wearing headphones phone volume at maybe thirty percent, you could hear what she was watching. You recognize the voice, the cashier finally looks up from her phone quickly apologizing for not paying attention.

"Oh I'm so sorry, will this be all" She quickly rings up the two honeybuns.

"No you're fine, that'll be it actually." You dismissively wave your hand pulling out your wallet to pay.

Looking down you notice her phone, she had put it on the counter, and the video on it had been paused but on the screen was that guy again, though it seemed to be a video of his own this time. You pull out some cash and hand it to the young woman behind the counter, she takes the cash, counts it, and then goes to get your change.

"No, it's fine, keep the change" Flashing a smile then grabbing your honeybuns you take another glance at the women's screen before it turns off from being left alone for too long.

Opening the passenger seat door, you climb into the seat buckling yourself in. Pulling out of the gas station your mom pulls off back onto the freeway continuing your journey. You pull out the bag you had brought for little activities, pulling out your book of choice. You had splurged at a Barnes and Noble a few weeks before you began packing, picking up a bunch of books you had either heard good things about or had been wanting to read. Red Rising was one of the books, it was also the one you were currently holding.

"I'm gonna put my headphones on, so you can listen to whatever you want." You tell your mom as you put your headphones on and pull out your phone.

You had gotten the book on Audible a while back and wanted to read and listen at the same time. Pressing play you turn to the first chapter and begin reading as the narrator spoke. Your mom seemed to have put music on, you could feel the bass as she turned up the volume and began singing along.

Time: 10:56PM Hours had passed, it was your turn now with two hours left till your next switch. Your mother was knocked out, lightly snoring as you drove in silence, you had stopped reading once you had switched. You also decide to put off reading it until you were moved in, the book had grabbed your attention, so much so, that you wanted to be able to focus on it solely; so you chose to wait. You had a couple hundred miles left to go and things were sinking in more as you drove silently. Your mind doing its usual thing, making you worry about things that most likely won't happen, even if it did, you know it wouldn't be your fault. You couldn't help but think maybe it would be though, it was a dumb thought but you couldn't help it

'What was that guys name again'

Your brain blanked for a second, random but ok, your brain goes back to the YouTube video your mom had been watching, that cashier was watching him as well. Dylan is in Trouble, you wonder what kind of videos he makes, most likely commentary. You pull your phone out glancing down and go to YouTube, you use the voice to text and hold your phone up to your mouth.

"Dylan is in trouble"

You press search, going back and forth between looking at your phone and watching the road. You look down to find his channel, press his icon, and scroll through some of his videos. Movie commentary is what you mostly see, occasionally you'd spot something different, you decided you'd dive into his channel later when you weren't driving.

Time: 5:00AM You were in the driver's seat, you had let your mom sleep more after she had been driving for about three hours. She was up now though, you could tell things were starting to catch up to her again. She was fidgeting a lot more now, well so were you, she looked very tense. She helped you find this apartment, but you assume she wants to see the neighborhood for herself, in person, wants to see how good the security is and what the neighbors are like. It's only natural, she's a mother and her only daughter is moving twenty hours away from her. You look down at your phone, your GPS says you are pulling up now, you look around the area, it was very nice, wasn't too far from the city. You spot the complex to the left, it was pretty big with multiple sections with apartments, you were building three, kind of in the middle of everything. You pull into the complex parking in front of the leasing office to speak to your landlord and to get your keys, your mom comes with you of course, sizing everything up.

"Hi welcome to Arts District Apartments, it's Amaya correct, my name is George?" An old-looking man stands from his desk, his hand reaching out to shake yours

"Thank you, George, it's Amoya actually" You reach out and shake his hand with a smile.

You two talk a bit about the complex and its rules etc. Your mom chimed in every now and then to ask her questions. Before you know it you're unloading the truck into your new apartment, you're realizing now that you didn't have as much stuff as you thought. The last thing you had left was your bed, you and your mom had been doing well with just the two of you, but after you two had gotten the mattress inside your mother's back began to bother her. Now you had your bed frame, you told your mom to relax for now and that you could get the frame up yourself. Partial lie, you previously took apart the bed frame and so there were mainly long pieces that weren't too heavy except the backboard, that thing was heavy as fuck, luckily you had a dolly at the storage building to help you carry it out, but now you have to carry it to the elevator and down the hall. You managed to get it down from the truck, and from there you lifted it and sped walked to the elevator, almost dropping the bed frame on your foot as you set it down to push the button. The doors had closed on you twice as you tried to pick the frame back up and lift it into the elevator, but alas you made it, now on the third floor and outside the elevator. You took pride in your body, you considered yourself strong, regularly went to the gym, and you would say your legs were the strongest part of your body, with that being said, you tried to make as little noise as possible since it was still early in the morning, you lost your footing. You were almost there, your door being right in front of you; but you fell. Landing on the door behind you hitting your head with a very loud thud.

"Bumbo." You whisper yelled at yourself in Jamaican as you set the frame down and leaned off of the door. (translation: Fuck)

Holding the frame upright you walk around it reaching for your door, the frame slipping from your fingers and falling against your neighbor's door again. You prayed that your new neighbor was either a very deep sleeper or wasn't home right now, though maybe you didn't pray hard enough. You lift the bed frame from your neighbor's door, getting your phone to get your mom to hold the door open for you so you can slide it the rest of the way inside. Stopping, you hear the door behind you click open. Your bed frame blocked your view of whoever had stepped out, but you could hear him.

Ch.1 - Ch.2

Updated Author note: Hopefully this was an enjoyable first chapter or part. The apartment is just a random apartment complex I saw on Zillow, everything in this is all fictional besides the YouTube videos and things that are obviously real. Anyway, I have decided to make this a series, I've gone into too much detail on little things like Amoya's intrusive thoughts and all that, and it'd be a waste to shorten and delete half of what I put and speed through everything, Amoya's intrusive thoughts and anxiety is a trait I added from myself, so you'll notice a lot of internal thinking and scenarios she makes up in her head. Hopefully, the idea is as cool as what I thought of in my head. If this does well, I will upload the other chapters one after the other, If it does bad I'll just delete everything, but please be patient I procrastinate a lot and I want the writing to be good. Please be honest and let me know how you all feel about this, if you like the writing, the main character, the pacing, the storyline, length, anything, and everything, I need criticism but don't be a bitch about it.

#Dylan is in trouble #dylan matthews #Dylan is in trouble fanfic #Dylan Matthews fanfic #fluff #angst #neighbors au #slow burn

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magn-animously · 8 months

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Is it really Jon and Martin?

We all know that the TMAGP takes place in parallel universe that's similar to the TMA universe and our own universe: we've got our Magnus Institute, the technology seems to be the same, the popular culture and language sound familar...

Which has lead to some (many?) people speculate that if there is a Magnus Intitute of this world, should there not be also alternate universe versions of Jon and Martin and Elias? If yes, what would happen if the computer versions met their TMAGP-AU twins?

One theory that would avoid creating a weird "hey you look... familiar" situation a la that one episode in the Moomins (below) is that Norris and Chester are not Jon and Martin themselves. I don't know how many people have thought about this, but there was at least this post by feathered-serpents that argued only part of Jon and Martin were pulled through the cosmic hole: their voices, which had been trapped in the tapes. I really like that idea and it would certainly solve the "who are you" "please don't scream I know it's weird but I am you" situation (albeit funny, it could be difficult to solve without any pipe murder incidents - kill your double, you know). However... My biggest problem with this theory is that I'd expect the voices stay robotic, computer-like, throughout the statements. I know there's all kind of spooky things involved but it feels to me like reliving the fear and voice acting the story requires more personhood than an echo of a voice could have, and I bet we all noticed how their voices changed when they got to the statement part of the cases.

youtube

(It's in Finnish but you'll get the idea. The dialogue can be summarised as "you look like me" "that's because I am you!" Replace them with Jon and Martin and Elias.)

If we believe Jon and Martin are Norris and Chester, or at least Jon and Martin enough to be self-aware and have an identity, we go back to the piper-murder-your-doubles problem. But here I think people forget a few facts we've been given so far.

There is Magnus Institute in this universe, so it makes sense there would also be Jon and Martin. There was also the story of Anya Villette who got a VIP trial of cosmic hole transportation. She confimed there was a Hill Road Top house in both universes, and that she could find her friends in this alternate (to her) universe as well. So far so good... Except that she didn't say I talked to my friends. She said "I’ve tried to talk to my friends about it. Those of my friends I can find, but they seem distant, like they don’t really know me. Everything is just… wrong. I can’t find my favourite coffee shop. And I don’t know who you people are." This seems to suggest that not everybody has a copy in both universes. Maybe this is just A Feature, or maybe they've died, or maybe they live in some other city - look at the Institute, which in TMAGP universe is in Manchester, not London! So we could have Jon and Martin in this world, but it's not guaranteed they'd live in London or even be alive anymore. There's also a chance they just... never existed here. .

We don't know how much different the history of TMAGP universe is from TMA universe. We already know some things are changed: the Institute was located in Manchester, not London, and burnt down in the 90s, which didn't happen in TMA universe. We also know the fears were a later update to the world, although time shenanigans might be happening here; look at Anya Vilette saying "I went to clean that house on April the 23rd, 2009 which, according to all of you, is tomorrow. But it can’t be. That was two weeks ago." Since it's not just place-hopping but time-hoppin as well, there's no guarantee that cosmic hole transportation takes all the passengers to the same date in their destination. Maybe the Fears arrived just in time to torment the dinosaurs (I know, I know, i'm sorry to give you this thought!) and Martin and Jon got out in the year 2023. Or it could be the Fears have existed only for a few years or even arrived at the same time with Martin and Jon in -23, and the OAROAROSD whatever its name is was founded for... just spooky things people had experienced but weren't true. We don't know yet. Moreover, different history means that Jon and Martin's pasts were also different in this universe. Remember Anya Villette again and how she described people she had met in TMA universe: "People I thought I knew, but they were different." This is especially true for Jon. It's easy to forget that he didn't start his spooky jorney when Elias/Jonah gave him a promotion. He didn't start the jorney even when he joined the Institute. No, he was chosen by the Web when he was still a child. A big part of his life, he was guided towards the Eyepocalypse. But that didn't happen in this universe. There's a chance the Web didn't even exist in his childhood, and if it did, it had no reason to do anything to him. She had already achieved her goal of opening up the cosmic hole transportation. She had no need for Jon in this universe. (At least no need that we'd know of yet.) Which means that even if TMA!Jon and TMAGP!Jon were to meet, the conversation would not be an easy one. TMAGP!Jon could live in different city or even different country, have no idea of any spooky businesses, get pretty scared by a sudden appearance of his alternate universe self who both knows and Knows everything about him, and have no idea what the Magnus Institute is/was. It would not be easy to convince him everything's fine, that he can trust his double and his double's boyfriend, and to explain just what had happened and why they were there and why TMA!Jon knows so much and why this is not a bad thing (honestly, TMA!Jon and Martin would probably agree that it is a bad thing). .

Finally, we don't know how much Jon and Martin have changed. It's been a year, apparently, since they arrived in TMAGP universe. We know that A) only the Fears were supposed to get the ticket to the new cosmic hole transportation journey, since even the oldest avatars like Simon Fairchild were left behind B) humans did not fare well with the cosmic universe travel. Look at Anya Villette again: she seemed to have disappeared after a while (although this could be just an indication that her double had slightly different name in TMA universe, like Anna Villette or something, and that's why Jon couldn't find her or her double) C) Jon and Martin are now in a computer?? So, whether you believe it was just their voices that got through or if you'd like to think it is them, they must've changed a lot since we last heard of them. And I'm really curious to hear how and how much they've changed. How much of the Jon and Martin we knew remains? P.s. Since we could argue Martin died during the whole explosion-cosmic-transportation, and we know he was marked by the Eye and Lonely... Could he be an avatar now? If yes, which entity?

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmapg #please reblog i apparently sat down and wrote AN ENTIRE ESSAY on these two at 8 am on a Sunday morning like a totally normal person would #so at least let the people see it (i'm cry-laughing at myself)#Youtube

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saintlabrys · 2 years

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Intact, a defense to unmodified body

Yesterday I was checking my emails, my newsletter subscriptions more specifically, and I found this cool article about this book "Intact, a defense to unmodified body", which was also an interview with the author, Clare Chambers. I personally didn't know her before that, but I think I'll buy the book sooner or later cause it intrigued me.

Here's an excerpt of her interview

“Our culture is constantly telling us that our bodies are never good enough,” she says. “Shame about our bodies is something we absorb from the media, from commercial interests, and from each other. Our choices are strongly shaped by our social context — [...] So what is the cost of [opting out]? The fact that we want to have a body that is a certain way, and the fact that we associate a body that doesn't fit into that model as being something shameful, and the fact that there exists a procedure available to change the body — those are all socially created facts. They don't come from our own internal autonomy. This isn't to say that people who choose these practices are somehow duped, or that they're irrational. It can be absolutely rational to choose to undergo a procedure that brings your body in line with dominant ideals of attractiveness.

She went on speaking about how women are particularly targeted by these social standards; they waste their time to adhere to a beauty standard that emphasizes youth, a period of a woman's life in which she's more vulnerable. Metaphorically speaking society wants us to be eternally young, naive and insecure. This way we are chained to a standard we're afraid to challenge, while wasting our time and resources in order to reach it.

"Under sexist social norms, women are valued for their looks, not for their achievements. It is idealizing the point in a woman's life when she is less experienced, less wise, less competent, less powerful. It also provides women with something constantly to be worried about, in the sense that the aging process is something that takes up a lot of our time, a lot of mental energy, and a lot of our actual material resources. [...] It's not a surprise that many of us would participate in these structures. It is also not a surprise that women, when so much of our value is connected to our appearance, find value in engaging in that activity. The question is, what is that ‘beauty’ embodying and what are the consequences of not conforming?

After reading this interview I read another one I found by googling the book, I'll leave the link down below, here's another interesting excerpt

I find the phrase “getting your body back” so fascinating, and so telling. [...] What’s so interesting is that the phrase isn’t something like “getting slimmer after pregnancy” but rather “getting your body back”, which implies that the body you find yourself with after birth is not really yours. [...] But why should the pre-pregnancy body be more truly yours than the post-pregnancy body? After all, the average woman lives with a post-pregnancy body for longer than she lived with a pre-pregnancy body. If the ‘real’ body is the post-pubescent, pre-pregnancy body, that’s a body that a woman might have for only ten or twenty years out of an average lifespan of over eighty. ‘Your’ body that you are supposed to get ‘back’ is a body that was only ever going to be a temporary one. So the language of “getting your body back” is another way of saying that our actual, existing, real-life bodies are wrong. They are not good enough. They need to be returned to some idea of how they ought to be. And how they ought to be, in this narrative, is slim, youthful, focused on looks rather than accomplishments. These are ideals of femininity that do not serve women well.

I hope I'll find the book as interesting as its premises, I'll keep you updated!

#anti beauty industry #beauty standards #women #pregnancy #radblr #radfem #radical feminism #radfem safe #radfems please interact #radfems do interact #radical feminst

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annisthree · 1 year

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Chapter XI: Maelstrom

previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter (all the following chapters were posted on ao3 only; you can find all the links in the masterlist)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~5k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence,

A/N: Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

The spaceport lights gleamed against the dusky Corulag sky as Marla and K-2 rushed towards platform 12-C.

They had just returned from the ship after transmitting a brief mission update to the command. They should have waited for a reply and further instructions - instructions that would probably include the words 'wait' and 'backup' - but Marla didn't care. There was no time. She would deal with the command once Cassian was safe.

The initial anger and subsequent panic transformed into intense, single-minded focus. Of course, she was terrified - but fear wouldn't help her save Cassian.

'I suspect I am going to regret asking this,' K-2 said flatly, 'but do we actually have a plan?'

'Gotta learn where they took him. Once we know that, we just go in, kill everyone on our way, get Cassian, and get back to the ship.'

'I understand now why it is usually Cassian who takes care of the logistical part of the assignments.'

Marla didn't feel like exchanging snarky comments with the droid - perhaps for the first time since Cassian had him reprogrammed. In fact, she didn't really feel like anything that wasn't directly tied to rescuing Cassian. It felt like all of her existence, all the training, fighting - all of that was just a preparation for this single moment.

She had to succeed. There was no other option. Her world had shrunk to this single, all-consuming mission - find Cassian, bring him home.

Platform 12-C looked exactly the same as every other day. Beams of bright light crisscrossed through the hazy air, outlining shapes of workers, pilots, and merchants - each absorbed in their own world, oblivious to what had happened earlier that day.

Marla supposed the spaceport had seen its fair share of arrests, and so the people learnt to move on and return to their daily routines. But what they didn't realise was that this wasn't just a normal arrest, and Cassian wasn't just some criminal. They couldn't possibly see how important his mission was, or how important he was. Because he really, really was. And it felt like only Marla understood that.

'If I may suggest something, I think we should start by locating the Imperial headquarters. The protocol would dictate detaining and interrogating the suspect before transferring him to a larger facility, depending on the result of the interrogation.'

'Thanks,' Marla muttered, her fingers clenching and unclenching nervously. 'Does your memory bank have the map of the city by any chance?'

She tried very hard to ignore the word interrogation and its implications. Not now. Not when she needed to stay razor sharp.

'No, that is not part of standard programming.'

Marla cursed under her breath. Great. So they would have to do things the hard way.

'Stay here. I'll try to ask around.'

Her eyes darted from one worker to another. She knew she needed to tread carefully - too eager, too obvious, and she'd draw unnecessary attention. But this kind of reconnaissance wasn't exactly her expertise.

Maker. Cassian would have immediately known what to do.

But Cassian wasn't here.

As she continued to scan the crowd, Marla eventually spotted a woman in grubby overalls, her brow furrowed as she wrestled with a large crate. She seemed like a local. Good enough.

'Excuse me.' Marla approached the woman, trying to slip into the role of a concerned citizen. 'I think I saw something... illegal. Someone-- I think they were smuggling contraband. I don't know where to report it.'

'Just talk to one of the Imps,' the woman grunted, clearly not too eager to stop her work. 'Plenty of them around.'

Right, that would have made sense.

'N-no. I think it's a bigger operation. I want to speak to someone in charge.'

The woman eyed Marla sceptically. 'Then you should probably report it to the Captain.'

'And where can I find him?'

'Imperial headquarters, just outside the spaceport,' the woman replied, setting the crate down with a heavy thud. 'Go back to the main road and turn left behind the med centre. Big, ugly, grey building. Can't miss it.'

Marla was almost surprised at how easily she managed to get the information. She was just about to turn around to give Cassian a smug look of victory and maybe a comment about how he underestimated her espionage skills...

But Cassian wasn't there, of course.

'Thank you,' Marla offered the woman a shaky smile before turning on her heel and promptly retreating to where she had left K-2.

'Over there,' she said to him quietly, pointing her chin in the right direction. 'Right behind the med centre. Let's go.'

Not wanting to waste any more time, she set a vigorous pace towards their destination. Kay was right - it must have been where they had taken Cassian.

'If I may suggest,' K-2 broke the tense silence, 'I think once we get there, we should pretend I have brought you in for questioning.'

'This... isn't actually a bad idea,' Marla said. Until now, she had been focused entirely on getting Cassian out, but she hadn't really figured out the how . She was ready to tear the place apart brick by brick with her bare hands if needed, but she had to admit K-2's plan was probably more sensible. 'You can say you found me sniffing around the cargo. Which is technically true.'

'Correct. And then I shall wait for an opportunity to release you both.'

'Yes. Here.' She stopped abruptly and removed her backpack to fish out a couple of round, metal objects.' Take these charges and plant them... somewhere. Try to get us some weapons while you're at it, just in case. And check if there are any speeders we can steal.'

'Noted. With this new approach, I estimate that our chances of success have risen to approximately fifty-five per cent. It would have, of course, been much higher had we waited for the reinforcements--'

'You can go back to the ship and wait for reinforcements,' she spat out with frustration. 'If you're so scared of a couple of bucketheads.'

'As a droid, I do not feel emotions such as fear,' he informed her. 'I will assist you with your rescue mission, Marla Reid.'

'Thank you,' she said, and she really meant it. She'd had mixed feelings about the droid at first, but he had positively surprised her more than once during this mission. He had demonstrated unexpected levels of resourcefulness and perseverance during their space station adventure, and now he was helping her despite clear orders to wait for reinforcements.

Plus, she was getting quite fond of his sassy attitude. Which, of course, she would have never admitted openly.

Out of habit, she thought about sharing her reflections with Cassian - he would have been happy to hear she was willing to give Kay a chance.

But Cassian wasn't here. And it was getting increasingly clear how much she needed him for the most mundane things - to be able to share small victories, to rely on his expertise and skills, to vent, to just be there and look at him, at how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, at how his mouth twitched when he had trouble remaining serious, and how he looked back at her.

She knew she shouldn't, of course. Becoming so dependent on someone, especially someone who got himself into as much trouble as Cassian did, was... well, unwise at best.

But she had long accepted that this wasn't a choice anymore. She couldn't pinpoint when exactly that happened, but somewhere along the way, between stealing hesitant glances at him and fully immersing herself in the depth of his eyes, between thinking about him at night and actually falling asleep next to him, between hesitant touches and melting into his naked body - somewhere on that journey, she'd realised she could no longer stop it.

It was still terrifying, but not having him around and not being sure if she ever would have him around again put this into a new perspective.

She really, really had to get him back.

Cassian sat alone in the cold, dark cell, the chill seeping into his bones. The silence was punctuated only by the rhythmic clanking of stormtrooper boots outside his cell and the low, incessant hum coming from the vents somewhere behind the locked doors.

Every single muscle in his body was aching. He could barely see anything in the dark, but he didn't need his eyes to know he was covered in bruises and dried blood. The metallic taste was still in his mouth, and the dull pain of his ribs suggested there was a very unpleasant med-bay appointment waiting for him at the end of this adventure.

If he got out.

The cell was completely empty; there wasn't even a bed, so he was sitting on the cold floor with his back against the wall, staring at the faint streak of light coming from under the heavy durasteel door.

They took away all of his weapons as soon as he was captured - that, unfortunately, included his pocket vibroblade and his lockpicking kit. Although to be fair, there wasn't anything for him to lockpick - the outpost was surprisingly high-tech, and the door mechanism that stood between him and his freedom could only be accessed from the outside.

Based on his estimation, he'd been there for about five hours, based on his estimation (which could have been grossly off, because there wasn't anything there that could help him keep track). Upon their arrival at the outpost, he'd been briefly interrogated - but as soon as it became clear he wasn't going to talk, the interrogation turned into a show of dominance. They didn't even seem that interested in getting any answers; not at that point, at least. Cassian didn't know if it was his complete lack of reaction that angered them or if they were just very keen on some good, old-fashioned violence, but his stomach and arms were now covered in evidence of Imperial brutality.

Not that he'd needed any reminders.

He wasn't looking forward to seeing them again, but he was hoping they would soon want to ask him some actual questions. That would be his only chance for getting out of here - although he wasn't yet clear on how exactly he would do it.

Normally, he would have just patiently waited to see how the situation developed. He'd seen his share of Imperial holdouts and detention cells, and somehow he always came out of those situations in one piece, so there was no reason for him to think this time would be any different.

But it could be. Because of Marla.

Cassian knew she would try to rescue him as soon as she realised what was happening - probably even still in the spaceport, while doing something incredibly stupid like starting a shootout surrounded by stormtroopers and civilians. That's why he'd had to make sure Kay brought her back to the ship, even though the chances of his escape would have been much higher if the droid was with him (Cassian was sure Kay would have been able to tell him exactly how less screwed he'd have been).

He was confident K-2 could manage it, and it seemed his strategy had worked. Cassian imagined that, upon transmitting the coordinates, Marla would have been instructed to wait for backup. They weren't far from Coruscant, and he knew there were several squads stationed in the capital, so it likely wouldn't be particularly difficult to find someone to come over and assist them.

What might have been difficult was tempering Marla's anger enough to keep her on the ship - but he was confident Kay would find a way to do it. He was only hoping it didn't include having to physically restrain her. Although, knowing her, it was a very viable scenario.

Suddenly, Cassian's focus was disrupted by a series of loud sounds upstairs. Something was happening. The outpost's steady, slow rhythm was becoming faster and more frantic: the rush of hurried footsteps, an explosion of voices, and the dull sound of some large object hitting the floor.

Change of guard? No, it sounded too irregular, too rushed...

He began listening in, trying to identify some keywords in the sea of muffled voices, but his focus was broken by the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs, followed by the whirr of the cell door.

A torrent of light swept into the room, filling it with the sterile luminescence of the holding block. Cassian squinted, raising an arm against the glare, heart rate accelerating with an instinctive rush of adrenaline.

Two figures emerged from the flood of light. The first one was wearing stormtrooper armour.

The second one was wearing the spaceport worker's uniform, had a long dark braid slung casually over one shoulder, and was currently being thrown into the cell with a force that almost knocked her over.

Cassian's heart froze in his throat.

'You were supposed to--' he started, but Marla interrupted him with a fierce hug that almost stole the breath out of his lungs.

He froze. It felt like his brain was rebooting, trying to decide how he felt about Marla's unexpected presence.

But was it really unexpected? Of course, he wanted her to stay on the ship - but deep down, he knew she wouldn't. Just like he wouldn't.

'Are you okay?' Marla whispered into Cassian's shoulder as she continued to trap him in her arms. There was the slightest tremble in her voice, and he didn't know if he should attribute it to having recently been rather violently thrown into the cell, or something else entirely.

Cassian hummed, nose buried in Marla's hair. He knew he should have been cross with her for disobeying the orders and rushing in without a plan. But for now, for those couple of brief seconds, he was just happy to inhale the familiar scent of her shampoo and absorb the warmth of her body against his.

Finally, she took a step back and looked up at him. Despite the dimness, Cassian noticed the bright gleam in her eyes. She looked relieved. She looked as if she genuinely expected him to not be okay - even though he'd only been there for a couple of hours.

'What are you doing here?' Cassian tried giving his voice some sternness, but he wasn't entirely sure he succeeded.

'I came to save your sorry ass,' she replied, the familiar roughness replacing the tremble in her voice. Only her eyes still carried traces of worry - but she was visibly trying to conceal that, too, shifting her gaze to the wall behind him to avoid eye contact.

Cassian sighed quietly. 'You were supposed to stay on the ship.'

'Well, you were supposed not to get captured. And yet, here we are.'

'What's your plan, then? And how is getting locked up going to help?'

'It is going to help, because right now, K-2 is upstairs looking for a good place to plant explosives.'

'And what if he fails?' Cassian searched Marla's face for even the faintest suggestion of a backup plan. He found none.

'He won't fail. '

Cassian let out a long exhale in an attempt to tame his frustration. Of course there was no backup plan. He supposed they were lucky there was any plan at all.

'Damn it, Marla,' he said, running a hand through his hair. 'You should've stayed away.'

She shrugged, a small smirk playing on her lips. 'Well, I didn't. Now we're in this together. And I intend to get us both out.'

That faint trace of a smile on her lips reignited something in him, something that helped momentarily bury his fear and frustration. They were in this together. And as much as he could be mad at her rash ideas, he understood her need to act.

At least she was here. And somehow, the cold, barren cell didn't seem so hopeless anymore.

'This is hopeless,' Cassian murmured an eternity later, still sitting on the floor in their cell, still no sign of any activity upstairs.

'Give him time.'

'You're advocating for him now? When did you two become best friends?'

'Shut up.'

As if on cue, the silence was suddenly shattered by a muffled rumble, the vibrations pulsating through the walls of the cell. A shock wave moved through the floor, sending Cassian's heart into his throat. His eyes met Marla's, and she nodded.

It was happening.

The cell door shuddered in its frame as the sound of rending metal echoed between the walls. Cassian's pulse thundered in his ears. They were now standing next to one another, facing the door, waiting.

'Hope it took care of all of them.'

'Well, it sounded... sufficient.'

And then, just as the dust began to rain down from the ceiling, the cell door hissed open to reveal the towering silhouette of K-2.

'Cassian. It is good to see you alive. I told Marla that the likelihood of you dying so fast after being captured was very low, but she would not listen.'

Cassian raised one eyebrow at Marla, who, in turn, gave him a nonchalant shrug.

'Okay, less talk, more rescuing. Care to untie us?' her voice was now uncharacteristically flat, and Cassian knew she was trying very hard to sound unbothered.

They definitely needed to have a conversation after all that was over. But for now, he needed to focus on escaping.

With their hands untied and equipped with the blasters Kay was able to recover, they pressed forward into the maze-like interior of the Imperial prison. The smoke from the explosion was thick, coiling around them and making Cassian's throat burn.

After a while, they found the demolished staircase that got them upstairs, into the corridor that would lead them to the exit - at least Cassian assumed it would. The signs of the explosion were everywhere: they passed piles of rubble, some still-burning pieces of furniture, and two - no, three - fallen stormtroopers, their white armours now smudged with soot.

'There were eight of them, I think.'

'Nine,' he corrected Marla, almost tripping over another, fourth body. But where was the rest?

He got his answer even before he finished forming the question in his head.

Out of nowhere, a blaster shot echoed through the hallway, shattering the silent stillness and filling the darkness with a quick flash of red light.

Grabbing Marla by the sleeve, Cassian pulled her behind the nearest corner, flattening them both against a wall. There was some shouting, then another shot in their general direction, and a wave of footsteps. Three people, judging from the frequency.

K-2 was the first one to react, stopping in his tracks and sending a series of blasts down the corridor.

Meanwhile, Cassian looked back to Marla only to see she already had both her blasters out. She had that fire in her eyes that he should definitely not be focusing on at that moment... but, Maker, did he love seeing her in battle. She looked like a statue, like a goddess of war sent to the Galaxy to annihilate the Empire and to make an absolute, hopeless fool out of one Cassian Andor.

An echo of another bolt ripped the air, and Cassian focused back on the shooting, trying to map out the enemy's location based on the angle of the shots.

And then he stepped out of his cover and fired a flurry of blaster shots, praying his estimation was correct. In return, he heard a loud, pained groan, followed by a series of rather creative curses in at least two different languages.

Not wanting to see just how angry the stormtrooper was now, Cassian stepped back behind the cover again and took a deep breath.

'My turn,' he heard Marla's voice almost directly in his ear, and before he could react, he saw her run out of her cover, charging straight at the three stormtroopers grouped at the end of the hallway. Blaster bolts, like shards of glass, shredded the air in all different directions, and Cassian's heart froze as he watched Marla duck behind a pillar somewhere halfway between him and the stormtroopers.

She looked around and tucked one of her blasters back behind her belt. And then, in one fluid motion, she gripped a half-loose and visibly burnt durasteel panel on the wall and ripped it out.

Cassian wasn't sure why she did that - but she didn't let him wonder for too long. Soon enough, she grabbed the sheet of metal and held it in front of her, using it as a makeshift shield, her other hand outstretched with a blaster pistol.

She darted out of her cover towards the stormtroopers and somehow managed to deflect an oncoming bolt in a way that sent it ricocheting and hitting the stormtrooper who'd fired it. She then stopped behind another pillar and paused for a couple of breaths, her chest rising and falling almost in sync with the frantically flashing red lights.

Swearing under his breath, Cassian started running, and shooting, and dodging, and running some more - before he'd reached her position.

'Two left,' Marla panted quietly, a fleeting hint of a smile dancing on her lips. She had already discarded her makeshift shield, reaching back for her second blaster. 'Ready?'

Once again, she didn't wait for his reply - she just charged among a swirling maelstrom of blaster fire, pressing forward with lethal grace.

Not wanting to stay behind again, Cassian darted out of his cover and caught up to her, and soon enough, the sharp clatter of an armoured body hitting the floor filled the corridor. One last trooper left.

But that one last trooper was surprisingly persistent, and it quickly became clear it would take more than blindly shooting forward to take him down.

So they gave it all they'd got. Dodging, weaving, and countering with their own shots, they moved as one, as if they were dancing the same choreography they'd known for years. With their combined skill and K-2 providing covering fire from the back, they were as powerful as ever.

But that still wasn't enough. The stormtrooper kept dodging their shots and replying with fire - surprisingly precise fire, considering how long they'd already been fighting.

Does he not get tired?

Cassian was just about to fire another shot when he saw the stormtrooper duck out of his cover. But this time, he wasn't holding a rifle. He was holding something small, something that had a tiny red switch. And then he threw that something in their direction - or, more precisely, in Marla's direction.

Time seemed to slow as Cassian spun, catching sight of the grenade flying straight towards Marla. Immediately, his world narrowed to a single objective: shield her .

With an adrenaline-fuelled lunge, Cassian jumped towards Marla and wrapped his arms around her waist, sweeping her off her feet and landing on top of her as they both collided with the cold, hard floor behind the cover of a storage locker.

The next thing Cassian registered was a searing flash of blinding light that illuminated the entire hallway for a split second. And then his ears were attacked by a deafening wall of sound that swallowed up every other noise, every other sensation.

The sheer force of the explosion was so immense that it shook not only the ground but the very air around them, causing the storage locker they were taking cover behind to tremble and quiver in response. Bits of debris whizzed through the space where they'd stood only seconds before, and the world became an indistinguishable chaos of sound, light, and heat.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to hang in suspension, the aftermath of the explosion still ringing in Cassian's ears. But the reality quickly snapped back into place.

'Are you okay?' he managed to pant out, propping himself on his elbows to shift some of the weight off Marla, who was lying beneath him with shock painted on her face.

'Y-yeah...' she murmured, looking around at the surrounding dust and rubble, before focusing her eyes on Cassian again. 'You?'

Cassian nodded nervously, adrenaline still hot in his veins. He could swear he felt Marla's heart hammering against his chest, matching his own frantic heartbeat.

It was a good feeling. It meant they were both alive.

A shiver ran down his spine, a chilling realisation washing over him. It was really close this time. Too close for his liking. If he hadn't spotted that grenade, if he hadn't reached her on time...

No, not now. It wasn't over yet. He had to stay sharp.

'Kay? Are you--'

Before Cassian could finish, he heard a single shot being fired, and then a loud thud of a body hitting the floor.

'I am unaffected,' the droid replied, lowering his blaster. 'And I am happy to report that the area is now clear of hostiles.'

Cassian let out a long, relieved exhale. 'Good job.'

'Great. Now, do you think you could maybe consider getting off me?' Marla groaned from underneath him, and Cassian realised he was still pinning her against the floor with all his weight. 'Stars, you're heavier than you look.'

'Right.' He pushed himself up to all fours, still a bit lightheaded from the explosion. He looked around - if the place had looked demolished before, it was now barely holding together. Small fires were still flickering out in several places; at least two large stone columns fell over and crashed into little pieces on the floor; and the end of the hallway was painted with the blood of the stormtroopers.

'More luck than brains,' he murmured, slowly pushing himself up to his feet.

'Hey. We made it. That's all that matters.'

'No, Marla...' he threw her an irritated look. 'We almost-- you almost...'

He let out a frustrated sigh. Gradually, he began recounting everything that happened during the fight - and then everything that happened earlier. And, as the adrenaline and the survival instinct subsided, Cassian Andor began slowly realising how close he was to losing something - someone - very, very important.

And he really did not like that.

Hours later, Marla eased into the pilot's chair, the familiar cool touch of synthetic upholstery meeting her skin. Normally, she'd have savoured the view - there was something soothing in the steady vastness of the constellations ahead, something familiar in the way the ship shook as they entered the hyperspace, something irresistibly hypnotising in the brilliance of stars that blurred outside the viewport as she executed the jump sequence.

But she really wasn't in the mood to savour anything.

The journey back to the ship had luckily been much less eventful than the rest of their day. It had also been much more silent, with Cassian limiting his reactions to monosyllabic grunts uttered with a frown that quickly discouraged Marla from trying to make a conversation.

Fine. Whatever. She just wanted to get them off this rock as soon as possible.

And she did - only this time, she had to do it with K-2's assistance, because her usual co-pilot was busy sulking somewhere on the other end of the ship.

But she was tired and frustrated, and she wasn't looking forward to spending the entire night wondering why Cassian was mad at her. And so, with a long exhale, she left the safety of the cockpit to look for him.

When she entered the common room, Cassian stood by the viewport, his frame outlined against the blue and white of hyperspace.

'You disobeyed your orders,' he stated flatly, turning around to face her.

'Yes. And you got yourself captured.' He looked up at her, his mouth pressed together in a tight line. 'I don't get why you're so cross about it. I have assessed the situation and made a strategic decision. And I was right. We made it.'

' Strategic decision, ' he scoffed, his eyes widening in disbelief. 'You rushed headfirst into an Imperial den. If it wasn't for Kay, we would have still been there.'

'That is correct,' K-2 interjected from somewhere behind her. 'I calculate the chances of successful rescue would have been over sixty per cent--'

'Oh, shut up, both of you.' Marla rolled her eyes and then focused back on Cassian, a mixture of icy resentment and burning-hot anger filling her chest. 'I saved you. What the hell is your problem?'

'My...' Cassian scoffed again and shook his head. There was a moment of heavy silence, and when Cassian finally spoke, his voice was quiet but unusually - painfully - bitter. 'You. You are my problem. You and the reckless, suicidal stunts you pull.' Cassian paused, taking a heavy breath. 'You nearly got killed, Marla. Just because you couldn't be bothered to actually think something through for once.'

The mask of composure had been torn away, revealing an expression Marla didn't quite understand. Cassian was still visibly angry, but there was also a hint of sadness, and something else, something indescribable that felt strangely familiar, almost as if it was mirroring the same ache she could find within herself.

After a long, heavy pause, Cassian turned back around, seemingly focused on the stars outside the viewport.

'You're not the only one allowed to be worried, you know?' Marla said quietly, her words almost swallowed by the hum of the engines. She saw Cassian stiffen slightly, but he didn't turn around.

'I'm too tired to argue with you, Marla. We'll talk tomorrow. Go get some sleep.'

Fine . Sure. If he wanted to be angry at her for saving his life, so be it. Throwing him one last irritated look, she turned around and left the common room to disappear below the deck.

As she entered her quarters, her mind became so crowded she could barely pick a singular thought to focus on. It felt like staring at a navigational chart overloaded with conflicting data. Or like exiting the hyperspace to find yourself in the middle of a battle. Or like having your systems fail mid-flight, one by one, the aggressively red warning light mixing with the smoke and the smell of burning engines.

You are my problem .

Cassian's words had struck a nerve. But it wasn't the accusation that kept repeating in her mind - it was the concern. The worry that had somehow sneaked into his voice, clung to his words.

Was he worried about her?

It wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to worry about her. He must have realised how little sense it made - damn it, either one of them could end up dead at any moment during one of their missions. Concern was a liability neither of them could afford.

But then, she remembered back to that feeling when she saw him getting surrounded by a swarm of stormtroopers, when she had to be physically dragged back to the ship, when she realised how easily she could lose him.

It seemed accepting her own mortality was much easier than that of someone she cared about.

Of course, she had known from the very beginning - from the moment she kissed him that night on Scen or perhaps even before that - she had known this would never be easy or straightforward. But this, this was getting too much for her simple pilot brain to handle. And yet she had to figure it out - preferably sooner rather than later - before it spiralled out of control. Before it exploded.

Because, despite being rather fond of explosions, Marla wasn't sure she was ready for the fallout of this one.

'Kriffing hell,' she muttered under her breath and slumped onto the edge of her bunk.

When did it become so damn complicated? And what was she supposed to do with this mess?

#cassian andor #cassian andor x original female character #andor #andor fanfiction #rogue one fanfiction #star wars #andor series #fanfic #rogue one

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gravitywonagain · 1 year

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so, regarding these last two posts, i want to apologize for things i have done in the past, and state my intent to do better in the future. i am white, but i'm trying not to be White, and neither of those posts need my input. but i wanted to address this openly anyway, because i think it's important to see that people are allowed to learn and grow and fix their own behavior.

the things i'm referring to are those specifically regarding my naming of ocs in my mdzs-based fan works and my general complaining about it.

it is not a secret that many white people struggle with naming characters that use naming conventions different to our own. this is likely the case for all cross-cultural naming practices. it is difficult to understand connotation and innuendo and traditions regarding names, particularly those that originate from a language you don't speak. white names also have a bunch of unwritten rules that creators in other cultures might find needlessly esoteric (why has my middle name been passed down through ten generations on my mother's side, while my dad's middle name is just one that his parents thought sounded cool? because patriarchy, actually. and also a lot of other reasons involving how traditional each side of my family is. also why do we even have middle names? what are they for? see: esoteric bullshit). you can do research, you can ask for help, but it can still be uncomfortable.

however! just because i have struggled with a thing does not mean i have to make it everybody else's problem!

in my endnotes on the chapters that included new oc names, i also wrote about how much i disliked naming characters in this fandom because of how difficult it was for me. this may be true, but it is not something that needs to be said where people who have had to deal with all sorts of racism regarding their own names or the names of their friends and family should have to read it. i can explain the name. i can even ask for criticism if someone feels like they want to give it. but i should not push my own discomfort with "trying to get it right" in other people's faces. it is not their problem. and it does no one any good to remind them -- while they're just enjoying some nonsense fanfic -- that their names are in any way "weird." because they're not! but they have dealt with that assumption for far too long, and even this expressed difficulty might remind them of that history. it may not seem like a big problem for people who have white names that have been mispronounced, but i would like to refer you back to the two previous posts and remind you that we have not faced racism about it. the barista getting your name wrong at starbucks is not racism. years of hearing your name purposefully mispronounced as part of a joke that digs not only at you but at your entire heritage is.

i am going to go edit these endnotes after i post this. and i will endeavor to consider all the things that i am writing in them in the future.

but -- and this is really important for any white creators who have stuck with me this far -- i had thought i was doing well before. i had thought i was doing my best before. and i was! but now i have learned a new thing, and so i am updating my behavior to reflect a new understanding.

to be clear, nobody has come to me and told me these things have hurt them, but they shouldn't have to. i should be able to take responsibility for the way my words may affect people without somebody pointing it out directly.

if any of this has affected you negatively, i am sorry for that. i understand why you may not have wanted to come to me to tell me about it, whether for personal reasons or for general exhaustion reasons or whatever else.

regardless, i am sorry. i will do better.

#fandom racism #white person apology #chinese names #i'm not sure how best to tag this so people who don't want to deal with more casual racism can avoid it

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fahrni · 8 months

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Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

It’s been a pretty normal week, thankfully. Work has been great. I’ve had the opportunity to have a lot of heads down time on the project which always makes me happy, and my family is good.

Now, go get that nice hot cup of coffee or tea and I hope you enjoy the links!

Platformer

After much consideration, we have decided to move Platformer off of Substack. Over the next few days, the publication will migrate to a new website powered by the nonprofit, open-source publishing platform Ghost.

It’s good to know Casey took this Nazi stuff very seriously and is removing Platformer from Substack.

Once the dust settles I hope he’s able to pull all of his existing subscribers over and a whole lot more.

Thank you, Casey.

The Iconfactory

The new Iconfactory has a singular focus. We’ve been leaders in the design industry for decades and the new site puts our attention to detail, our award-winning apps, and our extensive development services at center stage. In short, we want to help you build the best apps you can, and whether you’re a Fortune 500 company, or an indie developer like us, we’re here for you. The new site explains why we’re the ones you should call on, and it does it with plain language and gorgeous examples.

Being a huge fan of The Iconfactory’s work I was excited to see the new site and it certainly delivered. It’s absolutely gorgeous and really does put what they do front and center. I hope it pays huge dividends for them!

I also noticed they featured the artwork they did for Stream’s feature in the App Store! I’m honored! ❤️

Sarah Perez • TechCrunch

RIP? Third-party podcast app Castro appears to be dead, company goes quiet

So this outage was worse than the last one. It took down not only the service but the website as well. I really thought they’d disappeared but a couple days later they were back.

It still surprises me companies with services like this don’t have a fallback position that would allow them to spin up an environment on a different provider and point the app to it instead, without rebuilding the app of course. I dunno, maybe that’s weird or overthinking the problem, but it makes sense to me.

Better yet, Castro would be better served by eliminating the need for their own service and use existing podcast directories combined with iCloud to sync user settings and subscription lists. That would also offload checking for updated podcast episodes to the client side, but that’s not a big deal.

Sean Hollister • The Verge

Google just confirmed to The Verge that it’s eliminated “a few hundred” roles in each of these divisions, meaning Google has confirmed layoffs of around a thousand employees on Wednesday alone if we use a reasonable definition of “few”.

More layoffs. Hopefully this doesn’t ripple out to smaller companies like WillowTree. Last May, for the first time in company history, we had a layoff. It’s felt strange being there ever since and I feel terribly guilty and extremely grateful I survived it. I really don’t want to see another one.

Chance Miller, Ben Lovejoy, Michael Potuck, and Arin Waichulis • 9to5Mac

iPhone from onboard Alaska Airlines incident found; survives 16,000-foot drop

Now that’s a real drop test! It amazes me I have broken two iPhones by dropping both while getting out of a car and having them fall out of my pocket. That’s like two feet off the ground.

It would’ve been cooler to find it shattered on a sidewalk or parking lot. 😂

Sarah Perez • TechCrunch

It looks like X, the company formerly known as Twitter, has a Verified bot problem. Although X owner Elon Musk suggested that forcing users to pay for verification would help to weed out the bots (aka automated accounts) on the platform, that does not appear to be the case.

I really need to do another Space Karen post, A.K.A. The Musk Files. This dude has really screwed the pooch but it’s all his to do whatever he wants with it.

If you’re smart you’ll backup your tweets, delete them all, and abandon the platform. There are other great choices today like Mastodon or Threads. Your best bet is Mastodon + a blog so you can get free of the whims of corporations and their silos.

Lisa Boone • Los Angeles Times

Curious about building an accessory dwelling unit, or ADU, in your backyard? Whether for extra income or much-needed housing for family, perhaps it’s time to investigate one of the hottest housing options in California.

An ADU is an Accessory Dwelling Unit.

It’s a label used to describe an additional place folks can live on the same property. Those garage or shed conversions you hear about can be considered ADU’s.

We had a really great detached garage at our home in California we converted into a really great living space. Our daughter and her family lived there for about a year so they could save money. We intended to use it as a She Shed for Kim but we moved to Virginia and never realized her dream.

Francesco Mazzoli

Let’s say you’re writing a long running multi-threaded application, on Linux. Maybe it’s a database or a server of some sort. Let’s also imagine that you’re not running on some managed runtime (maybe the JVM, Go, or BEAM), but rather managing threads spawned using the clone syscall. Think of threads created in C with pthread_create, or using C++’s std::thread.

I was part of a team who wrote our own internal C++ framework — it was dubbed XSDK — for all of our teams. We had really wonderful thread support but I can’t remember how we handled interrupting them to stop them. I believe we had a Stop() method that would set a flag the threads Run() method was responsible for checking and clean itself up. After setting the flag the Stop() method would join the thread and wait for it to terminate. Anyway, our implementation used pthreads for Linux and native Windows API thread support for Windows. They both worked really well.

Tori Otten • The New Republic

Explosive new audio of Roger Stone reveals the longtime Trump ally was trying to plot the assassinations of two outspoken Democratic congressmen.

I’m sorry I’m so obsessed with the orange man and the folks in his orbit. They’re all deranged bullies and must be defeated again.

Daniel Golson • Jalopnik

VinFast Will Try And Sell Its Tiny VF3 SUV In The U.S. With 125-Mile Range For Under $20,000

I believe we need more EVs like this. Limited range and less expensive. This price is something I’m willing to pay for a new vehicle.

While I still believe we need to fund better public transportation over cars at a federal, state, and local level, the idea of an inexpensive, limited range, EV is a good start.

Isaac Arnsdorf • The Washington Post

Speaking to reporters after an appeals court hearing in which Trump’s lawyers said he should be immune from prosecution for trying to overturn the 2020 election, Trump claimed without evidence that he was being prosecuted because of polls showing him leading President Biden. He warned that if the charges succeed in damaging his candidacy, the result would be “bedlam.”

Our courts need to start coming down on this asshole. He’s such an authoritarian he uses his outsized influence to foment violence from his supporters.

If our court system treats him differently because he may cause violence we’ve lost our nation.

You combat a bully by punching him in the nose, hard. Let him cool his jets in prison for a while and see how it suits him.

At a minimum he should be suspended from running for President given a Colorado court rules he engaged in insurrection.

I really hope the Supreme Court interpret Section 3 or the 14 Amendment to include the President. 🤞🏼

Goose stepping moron pictured above

Anna Tong • Reuters

Videogame software provider Unity Software (U.N) will target laying off approximately 25% of its workforce, or 1,800 jobs, the company said in a regulatory filing and internal company memo on Monday.

Ahhh, Unity is back in the news. I wonder if this had anything to do with the decisions made in September of last year or it’s just “market forces”, whatever that means, that caused the need to let go of so many people.

Molly Jong-Fast • Vanity Fair

It never occurred to me that these facts could somehow be perverted by partisanship. But three years later, we are seeing just that, as Republicans cling to the lie that the 2020 election was “stolen” by Joe Biden and are poised to make Trump their 2024 nominee. And perhaps even more dangerous than the GOP ditching reality is the news media’s inability to cover Trumpism as the threat to democracy that it very much is.

The march to an authoritarian America continues, unabated. I need to step up and do what I can to stop the orange menace from winning and destroying the country as we know it.

The image above really captures what people like about a Trump Presidency. They think he’s going to make their lives wonderful by casting out all the people they hate; black and brown, Jewish or Muslim. What they don’t understand is he’s going to screw them over along with everyone else.

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papers-from-a-ghost · 2 years

Text

American Boyfriend is the best album I’ve ever had the chance to listen to. I found it last year by complete accident and now I’m listening to it for the hundredth time while fixing up my bag. There's no school today, but I’m still coming in. Why? VP duties probably. I'm hoping that when i arrive, i just have it turn out that there was no reason to be here, and proceed to go back home to probably do something that'll waste time.

In the timeframe between my bag and the bus, I get another update from my Instagram.

Red and Leo followed Aaron on Instagram. See their posts.

I'm not sure who Aaron is, but I guess there was nothing much to do at the moment. I click on their profile, there's only two posts. One of them is some video I didn't have time to really watch all the way through, and the other is a compilation of a few of my friends hanging out. I know my friends hang out whenever without me, but I feel bad every time I see them be happier without me. I'm not selfish, just secluded. In particular amongst them, J, as even til now I don't understand why he avoids me in a way that shows visible disdain - or annoyance - in his eyes. Its been like that since the first day I joined the group, but even my closest in that group, C, feels lost on that fact.

The interlude to the next song ends as I get on the bus, with everyone staring as if I’d done something wrong. Its weird to see an 11th grade come in on a day they wouldn't go. But I just shuffle to the back of the bus and drift off to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm walking down the track again, with the large field to my right bathing in sunlight for once at initial arrival. There was still a hint of uncertainty in the fact that I was given not much instruction by the moderator about today, other than to be here.

"..."

Then.

Suddenly, a staring contest. Across the track, a boy who's a head shorter than me, with thin pastoral glasses, and a stare that a stand-up would die to have. It was surprising to see them, my boyfriend, just bump into me not even 5 minutes into entering school, but it was even more of that when we started a chase. He had an unfair advantage of zero heavy baggage, but i still manage to get close within arm’s reach at the end of the tracks; and the second floor stairs; and the fourth; ending by the third door to your left.

"You, you're stupid-." I exchange intimately.

"..and you? u a bii- "

Our personal language is more on being dumb if anything, but I think we both find it cute that way. He laughs, I do so lightly, and we proceed to find ourselves in calming isolation for a while. He found me during the preparations of a mini-festival we did last year, where he played piano and I helped in the props and sound department. We'd walk back home together at that time, and a bit of me knew where he was going, figuratively.

Things didn't escalate any further until the next big project, an original play, where we started to be honest with eachother. We supported eachother, were there for eachother, and eventually left marks only we could see above the cloth. He's special to me, because he sees something that i can't - or bear - to witness.

"is it 4:20?" he asks

"yeah, I think we should fix up”

“you gonna check if miss is here?”

“of course.”

We didn't do anything for the record, much to the dismay of the CCTV that was watching us. We only just sat next to eachother as the sun rises in the windows. A few light kisses, yes, but more than tame compared to what other couples have been doing in this school, and this school had scandals go to court during junior years. Though enough ranting's to be said as we split off to our own work. I walk right, then straight, nudge to the left a bit as to give way to passerbys, turn right again, move straight to the faculty desk, and miss isn't here. The club moderator that asked me to be here, isn't here.

Its fine, its fine, there's still time to wait for 30 minutes maximum. I grab a book from the nearby library, and read it until there lies a paper heart in soft maroon between the pages. I beginning writing for the first draft of a third chapter to some random day and have it be cutoff by its continuation.

"-so miss said she made a mistake" my boyfriend says, as a surprise.

"...what"

"she made a mistake with the dates."

The thing that made the most sense, what was being hoped for in the blue hours of the day, became true. The wish has come true, but i felt compelled to stay for no particular reason.

"actually serious for a second, do you think i could help you guys with your work for a bit?"

"do you mean the props? are you sure? you could really go back home at anytime."

I don't really like home, or house if we're being really honest. If anything, I feel like home is someplace far from my house.

"Its fine! plus I get to help a dumbass."

"fuck u"

"love you too"

And so, 11 hours went by with me helping out my same friend group that happened to be part of the props department, and other higher levels, and somehow the day didn't feel wasted. The album reaches its main track, American Boyfriend, and I soon leave the school to meet my bedsheets face-first. Maybe the next day will be the same uphill battle to do something though, maybe I'll find out when I wake up then.

#writing #bad writing #novel #writers on tumblr #new here #new to tumblr #god help me how can i write better than this sh-#needs improvement

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moonstarinfinity · 2 years

Text

Asteroids - The Nine Muses

Hello everyone!

We are back today with an introductory post to our next series: The asteroids associated with the nine muses in Greek Mythology!

We wanted to give a little background on these by talking about their mythology overall, and make this a little landing page for these asteroids. Each of the muses is associated with a talent or gift of some sort, usually in the fine arts, and their asteroids are associated with the same gifts. Each muse is going to have a different post where we talk about the mythology behind the asteroid, as well as what it affects or indicates in someone's individual birth chart.

*Please do not copy, redistribute, or alter and claim our work as your own. We work really hard on our content, so please be considerate and credit us for the time, effort, knowledge, and love we put into our posts. All of our astrology posts are for entertainment purposes only (we aren't licensed in things like medicine or psychology so we legally have to put this here) and as such should be taken as they resonate, and not as legal, medical, or health advice. Not everything will fit with you exactly with astrology in every situation, so please be discerning about what feels right for you. 💜 *

Mythology:

The nine muses are the beautiful daughters of Zeus, the ruler of the gods, and Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory. The story is that Zeus found Mnemosyne very attractive, and disguised himself as a human shepherd in order to lure her into sleeping with him. They slept together for nine consecutive nights, and each night they conceived one of the muses. They were all born in Pieria at the foot of Mount Olympus. It is said that Mnemosyne gave the babies to Apollo and a nymph named Eufime. Apollo raised them on Mount Parnassus, Helicon, or Elikonas. (It's debated where they actually resided between these three places). He taught them to express their talents in the arts, as he himself was a god who loved fine arts and music. They grew up to perform for, and entertian, the gods residing on Mount Olympus. In doing so they also were the ones who encouraged inspiration and imagination for many artists and scientists.

In other myths: The Muses are sometimes referred to as water nymphs, and there are some accounts of them having been born from the four sacred springs on Mount Helicon that appeared when Pegasus stomped his foot on the ground there.

The muses are known as the inspirational goddesses of literature, sciences, and the arts (including art, music, dancing, etc.) The etymology of the word "muse" has a meaning of desire, wish, or inspiration, and this word is also where we get the modern day "museum" from. (Which honestly makes sense you know...because museums have art and science in them.) Muses are seen, even today, as inspiration for artistic creation. That's why we have the term "my muse." They are also inspiration for the creation of many instruments, languages, and different types of writing and poetry.

The Nine Muses

Each of the muses was known for specific talents or gifts. The following is a really quick breakdown of each, but it doesn't include everything they are known for. (That info will be in each muse's individual asteroid post!)

Calliope -

Muse of: Eloquence & Epic Poetry Asteroid: 22 (Kalliope) (<- click for more)

Clio -

Muse of: History Asteroid: 84 (Klio)

Melpomene -

Muse of: Tragedy Asteroid: 18 (Melpomene)

Thalia -

Muse of: Comedy Asteroid: 23 (Thalia)

Terpsichore -

Muse of: Dance Asteroid: 81 (Terpsichore)

Erato -

Muse of: Love & Lyric Poetry Asteroid: 62 (Erato)

Euterpe -

Muse of: Music Asteroid: 27 (Euterpe)

Polyhymnia -

Muse of: Sacred hymns & Poetry, Spirituality Asteroid: 33 (Polyhymnia)

Urania -

Muse of: Astronomy Asteroid: 30 (Urania)

We hope you enjoy the muses and their asteroids, and find them as entertaining as we do! (Puns are all I have, these are the jokes.) We will be updating with links as their personal posts go up. Let us know which muses you find inspiring and relate to, or what you think about your astrology in relation to them!

#Greek mythology #nine muses #muses #asteroids #mythology #astrology #astrologer #asteroid astrology #tropical astrology #western astrology #9 muses

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shina913 · 2 years

Text

Intersect, Part 3 | KNJ

Intersect, Part 3

Definition: To meet and cross at a point; To share a common area

✫✫✫Intersect Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: KNJ x fem!reader; MYG x fem reader

Rating: M (🔞), NSFW

Genre: Office!AU; enemies to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Word count: 4.8K+ words

Warnings: office banter; excessive cussing; secret office romance; unrequited love; explicit sexual language; cheesy pickup lines; praise kink; protected/penetrative sex; fingering; breast/nipple play; slightly(?) rough sex; hints of oral sex (F-receiving; mentioned once); dirty talk

Summary: You hate him, he hates you. You were both fine staying in your own lanes--until you're forced to work together on a make-or-break project for your company.

A/N: So--Grammys Yoongi would not let me rest and attacked me from all sides. He basically just wrote all of the content for this update! Also, the next few chapters will contain scenes heavily inspired by (actually, some directly lifted) from the movie, Someone Like You (2001). It's a fun, albeit cliché, rom-com but one of my faves! I just thought it would be cute to incorporate some of them in this storyline because I just live for Joon and YN's bickering! If you know the movie...ssshhhh no spoilers!

❤️, comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers (whether you liked it or not so much). Thanks to all who have read the first two parts, and sent me messages!

My taglist is open as well so just reply to this post or DM me and I'll add you.

“I had a really good time tonight.”

“I did, too.” Yoongi says.

You were walking back to your apartment from the subway, after your dinner where you talked about the most random things. Based on the publications and conferences you’ve attended where he’s been a guest speaker, he seemed like such a serious and intellectual person who was only interested in talking about whatever they were currently studying–or something much more boring than that. In reality, he was funny, quick-witted, and had an affinity for dry humor, which you found charming.

“You know, Yoongi…I–I have to confess, you’re not at all what I expected.”

He furrows his brows in curiosity. “Meaning?”

“I don’t know…This is going to sound really weird but I thought you were totally unapproachable and closed off. I haven’t met many people in our field who are as outgoing and just…normal as you are.”

He chuckles. “I know most of us are huge nerds. We get sucked into a study or a topic and it’s easy to isolate yourself from everyone else just to get these theoretical questions answered. But to address your query–I’m just like anybody. I enjoy socializing–to a certain extent,” he laughs. “And…I crave good company as much as the next person–not just because I’m conducting an investigative study on a certain demographic.”

You laughed at that…it was a research joke.

“I think sometimes that’s what’s missing in some of our studies…it’s way too much thinking and calculation. We tend to forget the human element, you know? Especially, feelings and emotions.”

Your brows quirk at his last point. It’s exactly what you’ve been advocating for when you decided to dive into this area of study. Math and science had an underlying predictability. But the emotional aspect is typically left out or not even considered because that would make the work subjective. And in your line of work, most clients prefer objectivity–they want things in black and white–no gray areas–especially for government contracts. They just want to know where the money is going, if it’s doing what it’s supposed to do, and if not, what do the numbers say that they should do?

You nodded. “I couldn't agree more with that. I think that we put way too much stock on objectivity when in fact, we, as researchers, have our own biases. So–I’m not sure how you can just completely extricate yourself from that.”

“That’s a cycle that I’ve spent most of my career breaking. Just–the whole point of, we get the job order, collect that data and conclude that you can do options A or B–and leave it up to the client to decide,” he shrugs.

“But it’s so much more than that, isn’t it? The fact is, there are real people whom we’re interviewing and studying. They shouldn’t be treated as random tallies on a sheet.”

“I like where you’re going with that, Miss Jeon.”

You stopped at your building’s front entrance, keys already on-hand.

“It’s something that I try to instill within my staff as well,” you smiled proudly as you stood there, facing one another.

He stares at you in awe. “Where have you been this whole time? I feel like we could have collaborated on so many good things.”

You chuckled and shrugged your shoulders. “We just needed to wait ‘til the time was right, I guess.”

He took a couple of steps towards you–he was…inappropriately close but you weren’t moving away nor stopping him.

“Well, I hope you’ll forgive me if I can't wait for the right time to do this.” His lips land on yours. They were incredibly soft and plush as they moved against yours. You sighed softly into his mouth as he briefly slipped his tongue into yours–just to get a quick taste before he pulled away.

Screw Namjoon and his stupid Employee Handbook.

You tried not to sound too breathless. “Would you like to come up and see my cat?” You suddenly blurted out.

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

You try not to panic. “I meant, coffee. Would you like to come up and have some coffee?”

He gives you a gummy smile. “Sure, coffee sounds good.”

Once you unlock your security gate and walk through the front door and into your kitchen, you start to grab a couple of mugs and call out to him over your shoulder while you sort through some K-cup pods.

Unaware, he saunters behind you.

You’re startled when you find him standing next to you. Nervously, you ask, “Uh–I have a couple options here–just tell me what kind you like?”

“I like anything full-bodied,” he says in a dangerously low tone.

Your lips twitch. “O-okay. Brew temperature?”

He moves in closer. “Hot.”

Your heart was pounding now. “Sweetener?” you ask breathlessly as he closes the gap between you.

“Mm–don’t need it. Not around you,” he says before he crashes his lips into yours, pressing you against your kitchen counter. His tongue caressed your mouth in a slow, sweeping motion that had you leaning closer for more.

Things escalated quickly and you moved into your bedroom.

It wasn’t long before you felt the back of your legs hit the side of your mattress.

He lowers you into it, keeping his lips locked on yours. Feeling his full weight on you turned you on like you couldn’t describe. His hands snake up your thighs as you moan into his mouth.

Be careful whom you fraternize with.

You gasp then recoil abruptly from Yoongi.

“A-are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

The fuck? Why is his voice in your head at this moment?

“If-if you changed your mind, that’s totally fine. Just say so,” Yoongi says reassuringly as he caresses your cheek.

You shake your thoughts away. “N-no. I meant, no, I haven’t changed my mind. I want this. I just wondered if you’d be okay with switching it up?”

He regards you with renewed interest. “Switch it up, how?”

You pushed up against him and shifted slightly until you had him pinned to your mattress. You sat up then straddled his hips, the motion hiking the bottom of your slip-dress up your thighs.

His eyes, filled with want, drank you in while you sat on top of him. “Well, alright then,” he bites his lower lip.

He watches as you pick up the hem of your dress and bring it up and over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you with just your lingerie on.

He sighs softly as he slides his tongue across his bottom lip.

“You have way too many clothes on, Mr. Min,” you point out.

“And what should we do about that?”

You curled all ten fingers onto his shirt and with one swift move from you, he watched his buttons fly all over the place.

“Much better,” your lips curved into a smile.

His hunger for you rumbled and it wasn’t long before he sits up to kiss you again–more aggressively this time.

He pulls away for a moment only to take his wallet out of his back pocket to retrieve a foil packet from it before sealing his mouth over yours again.

You barely feel him reach behind you to unhook your bra then quickly slipping it off you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck and to your sternum. With a slight bend of his neck, he ran the tip of his tongue over your nipple in a slow, teasing flick which elicited a harsh gasp from you.

He didn’t give you time to process before he fully wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking hard.

“Ah, fuck,” you breathed out, your body almost tipping over from pleasure before caught you, tilting you back into his arms before shifting to your other breast, giving it the same amount of attention.

Your clit throbbed and practically begged for some kind of friction that you started, grinding your hips against his cock–which you could already feel was straining from how hard it felt underneath your still-clothed core.

Sensing your impatience, mouth still sealed on a nipple, he slides a hand between your legs. His fingers slips past the lacy material and starts to rub between your needy folds, making you cry out hoarsely.

You could have cum right then–it really has been that long.

“I can’t wait anymore, Yoongi,” you whined.

He pulls away from your chest only to slip two fingers into you. “Tell me what you want, YN,” he asks gruffly.

“You. I want you in me now,” you said a little too desperately, grinding your hips against his fingers.

He watches your face contort in pleasure while his digits continue to pump in and out of you. “You’re so wet,” he whispers before he nips at your bottom lip.

“Yoongi–please…I want you to fuck me.” You barely recognized your voice as you begged him to put his cock in you.

He withdraws his hands slowly to lift you slightly off him. You take the opportunity to shed your soaked panties while he unzips his pants and rips the foil packet with his teeth.

You climb up on top of him again just in time to pull his cock out, taking the condom and slipping it down his length. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he drags out a deep moan while you pumped him slowly.

“Do you want to ride?”

You gave him a small nod as he rested his hands on either side of your hips while he lays flat on the mattress.

He guides you while you ease yourself down onto him. He closes his eyes and flexes his hips to meet yours, filling you, stretching you, as he exhales.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs as your walls clench around him.

You rise again, taking more of him in, feeling a little too drunk with the power you currently had–watching Min Yoongi slowly coming apart beneath you. You place your hands on his shoulders for support until you take him to the hilt.

You started to roll your hips slow–getting used to the sensation of him filling you. He counters your rhythm perfectly in sync—all thought and reason out the door. You pick up the pace and it wasn’t long before you were completely lost in pleasure.

He sits up, hands moving up from your hips to your arms, keeping a firm grip on them shortly before he withdraws slightly then thrusts into you sharply, causing you to cry out.

Your head lolls sideways and back, as he fucks in and out of you. My god, he does that so well.

You open your eyes, stare down at him, your breathing ragged, and he’s staring back at you, eyes blazing.

“So fucking good,” he mouths.

“Yes,” you rasp.

He groans loudly, closing his eyes again, tipping his head and leaning it against your forehead.

“I’m so close,” you managed to say between pants.

“Yeah? Are you gonna cum all over me?”

“Hmmmmfuck, yes…don’t stop,” you mewled as you clenched even tighter around his cock.

“I can’t–too good…” he stutters as he continues to thrust his hips against you.

Seeing Yoongi undone is enough to tip you over the edge. You cum audibly, collapsing on top of him.

“Ahh, fuck…” he groans as he finds his release, holding you still.

Your cheek is nestled on his shoulder, catching your breath, trying to get your pulse back to normal.

He smooths your hair, and his hand runs down your back, caressing you as he calms his own breathing.

He lifts you and eases out of you. You wince as he does. After he discards the condom, he leans forward and kisses you softly.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

Sitting up on your bed, you tilt your head slightly and gaze up at him, your expression skeptical. As he stands in front of you, he sees the look you give him and frowns. He bends down slightly towards you and nuzzles his nose to yours.

“I mean it. You are amazing, YN,” he says again, his tone emphatic.

You smiled as you felt something shift within you. You had to pinch yourself. Suddenly, this man–someone whom you had admired, revered for years, was in your bedroom in all his post-sex glory. It was as real as the sweat that beaded on his forehead.

You kiss him gently and let yourself fall into him.

******

The following morning, before stepping out of your apartment, you tugged at his wrist.

“Listen–about last night…not that I have any regrets or anything,” you began.

He straightens out, waiting for your next thought.

“I hope this doesn’t complicate things for us at work,” you ask tentatively.

“Why would you think that?”

You exhaled sharply. “I guess you could say that some people like to keep things strictly professional, you know?”

“I have no problem keeping things professional,” he says matter-of-factly.

This placates you. “Okay. I just wanted to put that out there–”

“YN, what we do during our private time is nobody’s business. And it shouldn’t be–that’s why it’s ‘private.’ I like spending time with you and I hope you feel the same?”

You gave him a small smile.

He took it as a good sign. “Okay.”

“I just don’t want it to be a whole thing at work, you know?”

“I understand what you mean. And I want you to know that we’re on the same page. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now…do you know of a good place to get some breakfast around here?”

You chuckled. “Yes, in fact, I do.”

******

“I’m so sorry about your shirt,” you giggled.

You were coming off a high after a quick bite to eat at the diner around the corner from your place. You decided to take the long way home–just to extend this time with him a bit more. You walked side-by-side, with his arm around your shoulder and your arm around his waist.

“I mean–” He glances down at it. It was only done up halfway since you had ripped off the top three buttons.

“They never really had a chance to begin with,” he chuckles. At least he had a jacket on–or else this walk would have been more scandalous than intended.

Just then, you passed a thrift store and looked over to find some dress shirts for sale.

“Hey, let’s get you a new one,” you said, motioning over to the display rack.

“What?” He laughs. “You don’t think this is a good look?”

“It is, but–” you bit your lip, trying to rein in your thirst. “We wouldn’t want you to look like you’re doing the walk of shame, right,” you teased as you picked up a black, pinstriped, collared button-down off the rack.

He eyes it for a second. “Alright then,” he says as he takes his wallet out.

“No, no,” you stopped him. “I got it,” you smiled, walking into the store and paying at the register.

He gets into a dressing room, puts the shirt on right away and you both walk out of the store, hand in hand.

“Thank you,” he utters as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him and giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“You’re welcome,” you said as you smiled through your kisses.

Somehow, out of the corner of your eye, past Yoongi’s shoulder, you spot somebody familiar.

You suddenly withdrew your hands from Yoongi’s chest and gently pushed him off.

“Shit, just act normal,” you mutter under your breath.

“Huh?” Yoongi is utterly confused.

“Good morning!”

Yoongi whips his head around to find Namjoon pulling up his bike. He stops by the curb, next to where you both stood while balancing his bike with one leg planted on the ground, eyeing the both of you.

“Hey,” you and Yoongi said at the same time.

“Please don’t let me intrude!” Namjoon says with a sly grin plastered on his face–his obnoxious dimples front-and-center.

“No! Not at all,” you exclaimed a little too loudly. “We were just uhh–” you point and turn to Yoongi while you scramble to find the right words.

“We–I mean–I just ran into him at this store,” you stuttered and chuckled nervously. “I happen to live right up here and was taking a walk…and, and then I saw Yoongi browsing through some shirts here. He looked like he needed some help,” you explained unnecessarily.

“Yeah, uh–I guess looked desperate for a woman’s opinion after all,” Yoongi randomly says, trying to figure out where you were going with this.

“And we got to talking and he just told me that he also happens to live in this neighborhood– which I absolutely had no idea whatsoever! Who knew?” you babbled further.

Namjoon just stares back at Yoongi then back at you.

You cleared your throat and gave Yoongi a look. “Anyway, Yoongi, didn’t you say that you had a thing? That you were going somewhere?”

He hesitates for a bit. “Y-yeah. Yes–I do. It was–great running into you, YN.”

“I-It was great running into you, too, Yoongi. A-and you too, Namjoon. Have a great rest of your weekend,” you stammer before Yoongi walks away.

“See ya,” Namjoon says to Yoongi before turning his attention back to you, giving you a knowing smile.

You try to scramble to save the situation. “What a coincidence, huh? First, I run into Yoongi and then you happen to be biking around this neighborhood, too? Such a small, small world!”

“Uh huh,” he says smugly.

Fuck. The jig is up and he knows it.

You exhaled sharply. “Fine. So we’re kind of seeing each other. Happy?”

He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you, his shoulders vibrating up and down from the laugh that he was trying so hard to stifle.

You groaned. “We’re…not necessarily telling anybody at the office, okay? And I would hope you’d keep this to yourself for the time-being?”

Namjoon snorts then looks away briefly. He clears his throat and looks back at you.

“What? What are you thinking?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m thinking the same thing you are, YN. How you and Yoongi will live happily ever after with your matching Hyundais and goldendoodles,” he says condescendingly while he cackles.

Afterwards, he shifts his weight to get back on his bike and starts to pedal away.

You were seething. “Did you have any friends growing up?!” You yelled out at him.

“Better hurry–I think I see him waiting for you around the corner over there,” he calls out over his shoulder as he rides away further.

******

Director-nim Celina, is quite the accomplished woman. She looked young for her age but she’s had a lot of experience under her belt.

She received her Ph.D. from Yale and after a few years working as part-time lecturer at local universities and shifting from one policy research firm to another, she finally built up her own capital and started her own firm.

It helped that she had already built up a great reputation in the field so once she found her footing, other great minds didn’t take long to join the company.

One would think that when you worked in this field, you were constantly behind-the-scenes like a hermit so you didn’t have to worry much about the way you looked. It’s statistics and research, for chrissakes!

But not Celina Choi. To promote her firm in its early stages, she had to look and dress the part.

She wore her dark tresses short, which stopped right above her shoulders. She always looked like she had walked straight out of a salon with a blowout.

And though she didn’t put heavy makeup on, she frequently wore a bold lip. Fire-engine red, tangerine, oxblood, magenta—it was her signature, so to speak. Anything that would draw a listener’s attention to her mouth was a good strategy for her.

She wore tailored pantsuits, sheath dresses, pencil skirts—for a woman in her 40s, she could give the younger ones a run for their money.

She worked the annual conference circuit and networked to no end. She strategically partnered with larger firms as a subcontractor and managed to lure out other talents from there.

Some people might think that she was playing dirty by poaching their best researchers from them but Celina’s pitch was simple: come work with me and not for me.

It was the same pitch that she used on all of her recruits–one of which was currently in deep conversation with her in her office.

You stood a ways down the hallway with your ankles crossed over the other and tried not to stare at him while they spoke but it was hard to pry your eyes away from him, especially after memories from the weekend plagued you all day.

He stayed over til mid-day Saturday after you had breakfast at the diner around the corner from your place—leaving only after he ate you out and fucked you in the middle of your kitchen.

When Celina turns away from him to retrieve something from her desk, he glances at you through the glass wall. As if reading your dirty thoughts, his lips curve into a slow, sexy, almost devilish smile.

You smile back at him, suddenly feeling hot under the collar before he turns his attention back to your boss, who was trying to show him something on her tablet.

“You look pretty happy there.”

His deep voice startles you and knocks you back to reality. “Why? You got something against people who are happy?”

“Not at all,” Namjoon grins sarcastically. “As long as you’re not stepping on anybody’s toes.”

You leaned in, pouting mockingly. “Aww…do your toes hurt, Namjoon?”

He chuckles then lowers his voice. “You wish you could climb up on me and step on these toes,” he says to you.

You gasp at the comment, taken aback for a moment then suddenly burst out laughing.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Should I take that as a ‘no’?”

You puckered your lips and hummed. “It’s more of a–’Thanks for the offer, but not if my life depended on it,’” you hissed.

“Well, if it isn’t my top team managers!” Celina exclaims as she and Yoongi approach you and Namjoon, halting your bickering.

You both straighten your postures and smile innocently at her like students trying to act perfectly behaved in front of the principal.

“So, I’m just checking in to make sure that the proposal is ready to go to the client soon? I know the deadline is not optimal since it’s the same week that we’re supposed to go on our company retreat–but I’m confident that if anybody can pull this off, you two can. Am I right?”

“Yes!” Namjoon says.

“Oh, totally,” you replied.

“Good! Also, I want to get a final look at it once I get back from the annual conference—which, Yoongi, so graciously agreed to assist me with. Nothing like showing off our new rockstar to attract the cream of the crop to our firm, huh?”

You and Namjoon nod in agreement.

Celina turns to Namjoon. “You’re going to this year’s retreat, right?”

“Yes, I am,” he confirms.

“Okay–just making sure because you’ve skipped the last two. It would be nice to have 100% attendance there, especially with senior leadership.”

“You can count on it, Celina.”

“Excellent. And, YN–are you up for defending your Office Olympics medal this year? I know Jin would love to take a crack at it again since he took the silver medal last year,” Celina says.

Before you could answer, Namjoon jumps in. “Not if I have a say in it.”

Celina’s lips curve into a slow smile. “Oh-ho-ho…looks like we’ve got a great matchup! I almost forgot that you won gold in those previous years, Namjoon.”

You interjected before he could agree. “That’s only because I wasn’t with the firm yet,” you addressed him directly.

He scoffs and narrows his eyes at you. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. You’re up against some stiff competition, Kim Namjoon.”

“Alright–let’s save all the trash talk for the games, huh?” Celina tries to intervene and steps between the both of you. “But I love the competitive energy! See, this is why I put your teams together. You’re both just so into it! I love it! I want to feel the same level of passion when I do the final read-through of your proposal.”

You both nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. Celina then turns her attention back to Yoongi as they finalize their plans for the upcoming conference. “So anyway, I was thinking—we should strategize which lectures we’re attending because I think that it would be more efficient…” she trails off as they both walk away from you.

Yoongi steals another glance from you and you give him a small smile in return.

Out of the corner of his mouth, Namjoon clears his throat then lowers his voice to almost a whisper. “You know I won’t take anything from you lying down.”

You grinned cockily. “You wish you could take me lying down,” you mumbled back to him.

His jaw ticks and a low growl escapes his chest as you flip your hair and back away from him, clearly pleased with the effect of your last words.

Part 4◥

Taglist: @deepseavibez @dany-but-not-targaryen @scuzmunkie @sweetjellyfishland @joeybeanxbts @amylouisecullen @knjkitten @gcintia @daphnxy @rkivecenter @serendididy @arisud

[OPEN]

167 notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Note

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao).

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait.

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key.

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster.

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it.

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back.

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you.

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards.

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity.

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in.

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you.

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out.

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it.

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay.

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week.

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone.

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house.

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho.

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening.

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day.

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around.

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son.

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying.

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his.

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it.

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever.

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out.

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car.

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part.

#anonymous #hes so fucking cute hes my fucking BOYFRIENDDDDDDDDD #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #eren fluff #eren smut

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

-----

I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

----

(Part 2)

#bio!dad john constantine #maribat #damientte #damainette #platonic daminette #maybe?#minor swearing

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qianinterprises · 3 years

Text

Bundled Joy {Part One}

Pairing: Kun x Reader

Genre: fluff, crack, minor angst, pregnancy au

Warnings: pregnant reader, yelling, teasing, overprotective Xiaojun, teasing YangYang, slight explicit language

Word Count: 2.9k

Synopsis: You have a secret that somehow, all of the boys discover before you have time to tell the father. Now, you just have to fight them to tell Kun first.

Author's Notes: I started writing this honestly because I was bored and needed something to do. I didn't expect to finish it, much less post it, so it's going to be pretty different from most of the things I have written in the past. With that said, I have also decided to make this a series, but, as this was just meant to be fun, I cannot guarantee that I will update regularly, but I will try. Also note that this is my first ever series so I hope it's ok! Please enjoy!

Part two coming soon

Tagging: @treasuretaeil

Movie night with WayV happened about once a week, usually on the weekends when the boys either had a day off or didn't have to get up so early. Most of the time, you were invited to movie nights because, in Hendery's words, "movie night just isn't complete without mom and dad together!" It, however, had been a while since you had enjoyed movie night with them, having been too busy with work. This weekend, however, you had decided to join them after not so subtle but ridiculously persistent badgering from both your boyfriend and the other members, particularly YangYang.

Kun had texted you earlier in the day and asked if you'd pick up dinner, something you were only slightly surprised at. Typically, Kun cooked and, if you were over, you often cooked together. However, with deadlines and schedules, you weren't surprised that he was a little too tired to cook a huge meal for six bottomless pits. So, after ordering food online and picking it up, you showed up at the door carrying 10 pizza boxes, four two-liter sodas dangling from your arms in plastic bags because you were sure they'd want something besides water.

As you were struggling to ring the doorbell, having no arms left to reach the door knob or fish your keys out of your pocket, the door flew open to reveal a grinning Hendery who looked more interested in the pizza's that your presence.

“Can I-” he didn’t finish his sentence, looking greedily at the boxes.

“Yes,” you said, almost exasperatedly, though you were glad to be free of the burning boxes.

He grinned gleefully and took the boxes from your arms, hurrying into the kitchen where Lucas and YangYang were already waiting, each holding their own plate.

With a small laugh at the antics of the boys you’d come to love, you stepped into the dorm, only to be greeted with arms wrapping around your waist and a small kiss placed upon your lips.

“Hey babe,” Kun said, smiling softly as his eyes washed over your face.

“Do you guys really have to do that in front of us,” Ten whined, making a disgusted face as he grabbed his own plate.

“At least we have the decency to go somewhere else for our extracurricular activities!” Kun retorted.

Ten was notorious for bringing guests back to the dorms and making poor Hendery snuggle with a reluctant Xiaojun in a small bed.

“Not every time,” Sicheng pointed out, his own face morphing into disgust.

You rolled your eyes. One time to Ten’s twenty, that seemed fair.

“It was one time! And we didn’t even do much!” you argued.

“It would have been different if he had been giving you some… special attention! But instead of seeing boobs, we saw the dick we see all the time!” Xiaojun complained.

“Why do you want to see my girlfriend's boobs?!”

“Better question, why is it so normal for them to see your dick?”

“Kun-gi likes to change in front of us!” YangYang yelled, sounding scandalized.

“We all do!”

“Oh my God! Can we just watch the movie and eat?!” Hendery begged.

With that, Kun handed you a plate of food and sat down on the couch, pulling you snuggly into his side as YangYang started the movie.

It was late when the movie finished and Kun insisted you stay the night, something you would have denied if you hadn’t been too exhausted to think.

It wasn’t unnatural for you to stay over, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you quite liked sleeping with Kun. He liked to hold you while he slept, which was part of the problem. You knew you’d be needing to untangle yourself from him at some point early in the morning and, if you intended to keep your secret, you’d have to do so without waking him, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. However, you agreed anyway, letting him lead you to the bedroom he shared with Xiaojun and YangYang. He wrapped his arms around you and, just like that, you were both sound asleep.

And there you were at 5am struggling to remove yourself from Kun’s hold without waking him up as your stomach churned and half-digested pizza threatened to crawl up your throat.

After a struggle that took way too long for someone needing to rush to the bathroom, you finally, successfully, pulled yourself from the bed without waking up your boyfriend, however, the early morning struggles didn’t stop there.

Stumbling through the dark, your feel suddenly got tangled up in a pair of stray shoes (most likely YangYang’s) settled precariously on the carpet, causing you to stumble and nearly lose your balance, catching yourself on the bunk bed.

Cursing, you paused your movements to listen for any wakefulness, swallowing thickly to push down the creeping bile as YangYang simply rolled over and resumed his quiet snores. Surging with relief, you quickly, but quietly, rushed from the room, not noticing a sleepy Xiaojun sitting up, watching you disappear into the hallway.

You stumbled blindly down the dark hallway until finally, you reached the bathroom, dropping to your knees immediately and hurling into the toilet, holding your hair back until someone suddenly appeared behind you, taking your hair in their hands, allowing you to clutch the toilet as your body shook with the force of the retches.

You assumed it was Kun until Ten’s voice met your ears as a hand settled on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“Let it all out,” he said softly.

You didn’t have time to question his presence as your body shook through a new wave of nausea. His soothing motions didn’t cease, even though you knew he was probably disgusted.

When you finally finished, you weakly reached up to flush down your sick before turning around. Ten helped you settle against the wall as you struggled to catch your bearings. However, when your eyes floated up from the floor, you were met with a tired, but concerned Ten standing near the sink and a sleepy Xiaojun peering in the doorway.

“What are you guys doing up?” you asked, voice hoarse from exertion.

“I was entertaining a guest when I heard someone barrelling down the hall,” Ten explained, turning his attention to the male sleepily leaning against the door.

“When you hit the bunk bed you woke me up,” he explained through a yawn.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and turned his gaze on you, eyes filled with concern.

“Why didn’t you wake up Kun?” Ten asked.

You sighed. You’d have to come clean now, because if not, they’d badger you until you did and then Kun would find out before you were ready.

“I didn’t want him to know yet.”

“Know what?” Xiaojun asked.

One glance at Ten and you could see the gears turning in his head. You simply let your eyes rest on his face, waiting for the question he was working on generating, steeling yourself when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Are you pregnant?”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Xiaojun’s face morph, eyes growing as wide as saucers, lips parting into an ‘O’ at the sudden, accurate question.

You simply nodded before speaking.

“But you’d better not tell him if you both value having dick’s!” you warned. “I already have something planned out and you two better not spill the beans before I have a chance to tell him!”

“We won’t! We won’t!” Ten promised, a giant grin spreading across his face.

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Xiaojun piped.

You rolled your eyes and shifted off the wall to get up when Xiaojun suddenly appeared at your side, half picking you up, eliciting a small yelp from your lips.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you hissed, voice reaching a volume that would likely, accidentally, wake someone else up.

“You have to be careful now! You can’t hurt the baby!” Xiaojun exclaimed as if it should have been obvious.

With a roll of your eyes, you let him continue, crossing your arms over your chest as Ten cackled.

“Looks like you’re going to be dealing with an overprotective Jun!”

You let out a huff but resigned yourself to the fact that this was probably going to be the new normal, at least until you told Kun.

Xiaojun carried you from the bathroom and placed your feet down on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. He slowly escorted you past YangYang’s shoes to your side of Kun’s bed where he lifted the blankets and tucked you back in. Almost instantaneously, Kun’s arms wrapped around your form, hugging you to his chest.

It was the next morning when the amazing scent of breakfast wafted into the room, stirring you from sleep in the best way possible. You rolled over, feeling Kun’s side empty and threw the blankets off your body, the cool morning bringing goosebumps to your skin.

Slowly, you threw your legs off the side of the bed, letting out a yawn as you scanned the bunk beds across from you, finding both beds empty.

As you stood up, your stomach shifted and grumbled, although you weren’t sure if it could handle Kun’s delicious breakfast.

Still, you made your way from the bedroom, meeting a grinning Lucas outside the room. He was standing outside the door, almost as though he was waiting for you to step out. His grin was a little more than slightly creepy and, as soon as he saw you, he began rocking on the balls of his feet like a puppy getting ready to pounce on its owner, something that wasn’t unusual for Lucas to do.

“Lucas?” you asked cautiously, already bracing yourself for the weight of the gentle giant.

“I wanna be the favorite uncle!”

At his words, you let your arms fall by your sides, a groan rising from your throat.

“I’m going to kill them,” you mumbled. “Which one of the boneheads told you?!”

“Your squeal last night woke me up, and then I heard Ten mumbling how amazing it was walking past my room!”

So your screech had woken people up. Great.

“Who else knows?”

With Lucas knowing, it was only a matter of time before the whole world did. If there was one thing Lucas couldn’t do, it was keep a secret.

“Pretty much everyone except Kun. Xiaojun said you threatened our dick’s if anyone told him.... But with as many hints and YangYang keeps dropping, it’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.”

YangYang. You loved the boy. You really did. He was so precious when he was crawling in bed between you and Kun on the nights nightmares woke him up from sleep. Or when he was crying as his legs cramped painfully. The times when he really showed just how young he was.

However, despite your love for the boy you thought of as a little brother, he truly could be a thorn in your side.

You pushed past Lucas and speed-walked into the kitchen where YangYang was, as Lucas promised, dropping hints.

“I want baby carrots and swaddled pigs in blankets for dinner!” He was saying cheekily.

“That’s a lot! Maybe I can help with that!” you said enthusiastically before grabbing the younger's arms and all but yanking him from the room.

“What?” he asked, as if he had done nothing wrong.

“I swear Yang, if you rob me of the joy of telling him, he’s going to be a dad, I will personally remove your gonads with a rusted spoon!” you hissed,

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Good luck finding a rusty spoon without searching Jeno’s bedroom.”

You shoved him lightly, glaring at him as he walked back into the kitchen, you hot on his trail.

“Good morning sleepy-head,” Kun greeted, seemingly noticing you for the first time.

He placed a soft kiss on your lips and wrapped an arm around your waist, a greeting you loved but would never get used to.

“That’s exactly the kind of thing that got you into this situation,” Hendery piped.

Kun turned around, arching an eyebrow at the male as you sent Hendery the harshest glare you could muster. He bit down on his lip, trying, and partially failing to hide a sinister smirk.

You were going to end up killing them all if you didn’t tell Kun soon, but you wanted him to find out your own way, not because six boys couldn’t keep a secret!

“Babe? Do you think we could go out today?” you asked.

“Ooooo!” all six boys cooed, nearly in unison.

“Ok, what’s going on?” Kun asked, placing his hands on his hips.

It killed you how perceptive he could be.

“You’ve all been acting funny all morning!”

His tone was sharp and commanding, the kind of tone that sent trembles down your spin and heat rushing to your core with need.

“Oh! He’s using his dad tone! He must be-”

“Yang! Shut up!” you snapped, voice raising as tears gathered in your eyes.

His eyes widened as a tear slipped past your eye, trailing down your cheek.

“Y/N… I’m sorry!”

“Why can’t you guys just accept that I want to tell him in my own way! Stop messing around before he figures it out! Because if he does, I will never forgive any of you!” your voice shook with emotion as you spoke, hands balled into fists at your sides.

You were expecting a snarky comeback about being a crybaby, but no one said anything for a good few seconds before Kun broke the silence by clearing his throat.

“Where did you want to go?” he asked.

“To our special place in the park… for a picnic…”

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your head.

“Let’s go back to your place to prepare then,” he said.

With that, you sent one more look at the boys before following Kun back to his room to adorn yourselves in anything other than pjs.

Part of you was reluctant to tell Kun yet, wanting to wait just a little longer, but with the boys’ inability to keep anything held within the confines of secrecy, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer if you wanted to be the one to tell him.

After preparing a nice picnic while Kun was playing with your cat, Kun took your hand and led you to the park where you both had said “I love you” for the first time.

As you reached the grassy area, you separated yourselves from the playground where kids were playing and screaming, finding a nice shady spot near the hiking trail where Kun spread the old purple and brown blanket you’d fished out of your linen closet. You placed the brown wicker basket in the center and sat down on the blanket, pulling your legs in and curling them. Kun sat down beside you, pulling out the plates as you grabbed the plate of premade sandwiches and cucumbers, your heart pounding in your ears.

“So… how do you feel about... sitting on a picnic blanket with… more than just us?”

It was vague, you knew, but you didn’t know how to just come out and tell the truth.

He gave you a puzzled look as he retrieved a sandwich from the plate.

“Like… the boys coming too?” he asked.

Dense. Kun, WayV’s leader. The group's father. So damn dense!

“I mean like… children…?” you mumbled, heart pounding harder.

“I’d love to have children with you one day!”

“What about soon? Like… now?” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow and took a bite of his sandwich, swallowing before replying.

“Are you telling me you want to start trying?”

You sighed, resigning yourself to the fact that Kun was just too dense to get it without you spelling it out for him.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered finally, the words coming out softly as a weight lifted off your chest.

The truth will set you free.

Kun was silent for a long moment. So long, in fact, that tears of rejection were gathering in your eyes and you prepared yourself for the “it’s not mine” or “I can’t have a baby right now” speech.

However, as you were about to get up and apologize, a huge smile broke out across his face and the next thing you knew, you were being tackled back, back hitting the grass as Kun held himself on top of you, grinning like a madman.

You were too caught up in the moment to care how the moment might have looked to any onlookers. It was none of their business anyway.

“I’m going to be a daddy?” he asked.

Tears of his own were already falling down his cheeks.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your throat choked up from the happiness of his reaction. So instead, you gave a simple nod, your own smile mirroring his.

He rolled over into the grass beside you and pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m going to be a daddy,” he whispered this time, almost as if to assure himself of the fact one more time.

As soon as the words left his lips, your ears were met with a surprisingly on key chorus of “awwww’s,” seeming to come from behind the bushes before a hyperactive Bella was jumping into Kun’s lap, licking his face in delight.

“Wait… why did everyone else find out before me?!”

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Making Amends

Summary: Five years, you thought he was gone for good. After the War, he disappeared. Now, after months of zero contact, he shows up at your bridal salon. A somewhat bitter Reader and a post-FATWS Bucky

Pairing: Bucky x F!Reader

Word count: 2381

Warnings: Mentions of past violence and killings, adult language

I sigh, securing the train of the dress so it doesn’t drag against the floor. The dress is stunning, as they all are. This one—pouffy, ivory, grand—has a bateau neckline and falls to the floor in a long, glittering train.

The glitter gets everywhere.

I bend down, trying to wipe some of it off my pants leg, then work on my blazer. Every day, only black clothes. It’s tradition, but a stupid one — the glitter stands out on my clothes more than it does on the white dresses.

“Miss, someone’s here to see you.”

I grit my teeth, digging my hands into the fabric of the dress. The receptionist is young — barely out of her teens, really — and still quite new at her job. She, like others, disappeared on that awful day five and a half years ago.

The day I lost everything.

And she’s here today because of my friends’ sacrifices.

I try to remind myself to be patient. “We’re appointment only, Lydia. Tell her to call, make an appointment, and come back then.”

“R-right,” she stammers, and I can hear the bottoms of her heels scraping against the floor as she shifts her weight. “It’s just—well, he said it’s really important, and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

That gives me pause. He?

As a product manager at a bridal salon, my day is mostly spent in the company of women. Brides, their mothers, bridal parties, wedding planners, etc. There’s the occasional fiancé, father, brother, friend come to support, or a groom shopping for a dress, but overall, men tend to stand out.

“Fine, send him in,” I allow. It’s obvious he’s not listening to Lydia, but I know I’m more intimidating than she is. I’ll tell him to schedule an appointment. “And then do me a favor — there’s a list of designers on my desk upstairs. Can you give their offices a call and update the contact info for each brand representative?”

She sounds relieved. “Sure, no problem.”

As the sound of her heels meeting the ground fade away, I breathe in the sweet, floral-scented air. We’re under-booked today. There are only a few brides occupying our east fitting rooms, so I’ve decided to spend my afternoon in the west, making everything look perfect for the weekend ahead. Having this section alone — just me, the soft piano music playing over the speakers, and the dresses — is almost peaceful.

It would be peaceful if I were anyone else.

I continue to straighten the dresses. Everything needs to be perfectly spaced, meticulously tucked and folded to make each dress impressive in its own way. There’s no room for imperfection, here.

The sound of heavy boots clicking on the floor rings through the empty room. “Hey, Doll.”

My body runs cold.

That voice. I know it well.

My mind flashes to late nights, stealing smiles and kisses, tight hugs, adoring eyes.

And then falling to the ground in grief. Changing outfits to attend my second funeral of the day. His. And, after years of grieving, healing, and suffering through, one chance to fix it all. The joy of having him back. Locking eyes on the battlefield.

And then nothing.

Nothing.

All my air leaves me in one, quick, sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I turn, both dreading the sight and longing for it.

And just like that, standing between two rows of eggshell and pearl and ivory, he’s here.

Dark denim jeans, a deep blue shirt—long sleeve, knowing him—a grey button-up open on his chest, and two thick gloves, despite the summer heat.

I cross my arms.

He purses his lips together and raises his eyebrows, crossing one foot over the other casually. “So, bridal, huh?”

I feel my jaw clench. “I’ve got to make a living, don’t I? Evidently you do, too.” I can’t stop the bitterness from seeping into my voice.

He sighs that long-suffering sigh, one that tells me he’s more resigned than upset. “I wanted to come back.”

I turn my attention back to the dresses, walking down the row of gleaming white. “No one was stopping you.”

He turns to face me as I continue my inspection of each and every gown. “It’s not that simple. I—I was working hard. I had to get freed from him.”

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to feel something. But of course, I do. Ever since I’ve known Bucky, he’s been wrecked by the things he’s done and terrified he’ll be called to do them again.

Terrified that he’ll lose his mind once again to the assassin.

When I saw him on TV, in a random news report from months ago, I’d broken down into sobs. I’d fallen to my knees and said prayer after prayer of thanks. Because the clouds had faded from his eyes. The fear, the ever-present dread, was gone. He stood taller, more assured —

Happier.

I knew then, that somehow, he’d gotten the Winter Soldier out.

I bend down, fluffing layers of crinoline in a ballgown. “You’ve been in the news.”

He hears the accusation in my voice. You’ve been back for months.

He approaches me slowly, coming to stand in front of me as I straighten. “I had a job to do.”

“What, the new Captain America doesn’t allow cell phones?”

He ignores the jab. “Doll, I had to wait to make sure, to be sure, but I’m safe, now. I’m not him anymore.”

“Bucky, I always felt safe with you,” I whisper, the emotion nearly winning. “I loved you more than anything. And despite what you said — that you loved me, too — you just left. Five years I waited for you. I didn’t think there was any way I would ever see you again, and then by some miracle, after so much loss, you came back! We fought in a war together. We killed. And we won. And then you disappeared. It’s been six months! I-I mean, I hate to think the worst, Bucky, but I really thought—” I cut off my words then, unable to continue without dissolving into tears.

His jaw tightens in that heartbreaking way it does when he’s sad, and he reaches forward. When I don’t protest to his gloved hand on mine, he pulls me into a hug. I want to melt into him. I want to collapse under nearly six years of unresolved grief, stress, worry, and let him hold me up, let him bear this burden for just a few minutes.

But that’s not the way I’m made.

I’ve entrusted my heart to him too many times.

And every time, I’m left alone and broken.

I push myself out of his arms, wiping my tears away quickly. Once again, the dresses act as my anchor, my distraction. I gather one in my arms, crossing the aisle to re-hang it in its proper place.

Bucky watches from a distance.

His hands are tucked into his pockets, and he looks at me sadly for a while before his eyes turn to the ground.

Silence falls between us. The only noises are the coos of elated brides and their adoring guests coming from the east side of the building.

After a while, Bucky raises his head towards me. “Does working here make you want it?”

I sigh. He can’t do that. Can’t come in here after so much time away with zero contact and then casually ask me stupid questions. “Want what?”

“You know,” he shrugs, leaning against the receptionist’s desk. “It. A wedding, a marriage, a…life.”

I purse my lips, shaking my head. I reach to adjust a hanger slightly out of my arm span, trying my hardest not to sound sad. “I’m not the kind of girl you marry, Buck. Not anymore.”

He scoffs, making a face. “What does that even mean?”

I turn on him, more than done with this conversation. “Exactly that! I see it every day — brides come in here, all starry-eyed, happy, innocent. They’ve got love, or at least the excitement of planning their ‘big day,’ and they just glow with all the life in them. I don’t have that, not anymore. I—” I lower my voice, gritting my teeth against the emotion that attempts to fight through. “I’ve killed people, Bucky. For a long period of time, that’s all I did. And, look, I’m really, really happy for you being able to heal and move on and be freed, but I can’t do that. I can’t come back from who I turned out to be.”

“That’s bullshit. You did what you had to do.” He pushes himself off the receptionist’s desk, adamant. “Every life you took was to stop the slaughter of others. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I can.”

We stare each other down.

He’s always had a good stare.

Steady, intimidating, unwavering. It’s like he can see into the depths of your soul and know he can outlast you.

But I work with furious mothers of the brides.

I raise an eyebrow, showing him I will not back down from this challenge.

He blinks and moves his gaze past my right shoulder. Something shifts in his eyes. “You’ve got a client.”

I force my expression to soften, maneuvering around Bucky to grab the clipboard from the receptionist’s desk. I give him a look that clearly says do not move, and hurry to the front door to welcome the bride and her guests in. Amidst the flurry of excited chatters, gushing about wedding plans, and a clear description of what she does not want, I check them in on the clipboard and take them to the east wing to meet a consultant. When I return, Bucky is exactly where I left him.

He smirks at me. “What the hell was that? Your voice rose like three octaves.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s called customer service.”

He shrugs, leaning against the desk in a way I should not find ridiculously attractive. “Well, why don’t I get any of that?”

I grit my teeth. “Because they are going to buy a dress, which will pay my salary, which will make me happy. You on the other hand, have caused me nothing but anger, sadness, and worry.” I blink, absently shocked that all that truth escaped despite my best efforts.

Something flashes in Bucky’s eyes—regret, maybe—but he covers it well, tilting his head to the side and keeping his playful tone. “Really? Nothing but that? Gosh, I must have been a terrible boyfriend.”

I dig my teeth into my lower lip, staring down at my clipboard. It’s been six months. You may as well continue with the honesty. You don’t know the next time you’ll have a change to talk to him like this. “Buck…” I approach him slowly, buying myself time. Too soon, I come to stand in front of him. “You were a great boyfriend. I…” I sigh, shaking my head. “I thought you were it. I didn’t want anyone else. And we were happy, overall. You know—up until you disappeared without so much as a text and ignored me for six months.”

A muscle twitches in his cheek. He leans forward, locking his eyes with mine. “We were good together. I loved you, more than anything, I—well Doll, I still love you. And look, I know I’ve messed up. In more ways than seems is humanly possible, but I,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m as clean as I’m ever gonna get. I shouldn’t have disappeared without warning. I should’ve called when I left Wakanda. I should’ve let you hear from me rather than seeing me on the news. I should’ve come back and done the work to rebuild what I broke. I’m sorry. I really am.”

I feel the clipboard digging into my stomach. I don’t move. I stare at him, terrified of the way his words, the honesty in his eyes, makes me react. Too easily, my walls are coming down. “What did you come here for?”

“I—just,” he digs his hands into his pockets, sighing lowly. “I’m back in town. And I’m here to stay for a while. If you’d allow it, I’d like to try to make amends.”

Don’t do it, I beg myself. Don’t set yourself up for more pain.

In the face of my silence, he nods slowly, taking on a look of sad understanding.

“I work till seven.” The words rush from my mouth before I can stop them, before I can think of the consequences. I grip the clipboard even tighter.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, the start of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nod, my heart racing at the prospect of being with him again, of maybe fixing things. “I live in the same apartment.”

He grins fully now, but at my stern look, attempts to wipe it off his face. I’m still mad at him, he shouldn’t get too comfortable yet.

But the light doesn’t leave his eyes and, despite my fear that this will all turn out terribly for me, I feel my own lips threatening to turn up.

He pushes himself off the desk, standing closer to me than I think either of us intended. “Can I take you out?”

I release a long breath, not moving from my spot despite our proximity. “Yes.”

He nods slowly, not pulling his gaze from mine. “It’s a date.”

“It’s a trial period,” I correct, unable to keep myself from teasing him a little.

He tilts his head to the side, laughing indulgently. “Alright, I deserve that. Then, sure, I’ll pick you up at eight for our trial period.”

He smirks cockily at me, winking in that way he knows makes my knees weak, before turning and swaggering to the door.

Despite our play, he’s not getting off this easy. There’s a lot we have to work through, and we might not even be compatible anymore — he knows that, too.

But for just this moment, I allow myself to enjoy feeling comfortable with him, joking like we used to. When his gloved hand reaches for the doorknob, I call after him, keeping my tone light. “You’re on thin fucking ice, Barnes.”

He turns his head to mine, nodding solemnly in a way I didn’t expect. “I know, Doll.”

A/n Whoops, couldn’t get this one out of my head after seeing Bucky in FATWS, so here’s some angst, bitterness, and hopefully a little hope!

|masterlist|

#fatws #fatws spoilers #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #reader x bucky #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball.

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

-------------

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap.

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved.

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students.

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done.

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed.

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint.

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts."

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex."

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away.

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly.

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it.

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom.

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her.

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him.

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia. I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you … still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

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Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

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#fools rush in #Liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #prince liam #bbrandy2002

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