#which I like wigs but they do start to cause irritation where they rest at my ears if I wear them too long

[ravenatural]

just ‘cause I’m thinking about it, but your place of employment should not get to control aspects of your appearance that bleed into your personal life

dress code for things like clothing and shoes? understandable, you can just change into and out of them for the work environment—ergo, it’s a solely work based change that you can separate from your personal life

controlling what color or style for your hair, what kinds of piercings you have, and visible tattoos? things that are a personal life choice that aren’t so easy to change, that your place of employment is encroaching upon by saying you can’t have it? That’s a no go, and quite frankly I think it sets some alarming precedents for them to be able to have a say in things like that

maybe it’s just me, maybe it’s not even on purpose, but it seems to me like it’s a way to blur the line between personal and work life just enough to be socially acceptable and to be seen as more a source of aggravation than something setting some concerning work / life balance expectations

[ephemeral-phosphorescence]

I got the motivation for this post from seeing a couple of Tiktoks that really annoyed me, although the sentiment is shared on this site as well. Basically just a rant post. 

This is specifically in reference to two situations; complaints about the lack of body paint for Ryan Potter’s Beast Boy on the set of Titans, and the translated costumes for the New Monster High movie coming out soon. However, I’m sure it’s applicable to a wide range of other media. I’m not annoyed that people feel let down or disappointed by these costumes. That’s a valid emotion and a natural reaction. What annoys me, is when people turn immediately to the nearest cosplayer page and go “they did so much better :( on such lower expectations :( the studio had a low budget :( but theirs was lower :( 

So I’m gonna say this loud and clear

COSPLAY AND COSTUMING FOR TV AND FILM ARE TWO. DIFFERENT. SKILL SETS. 

First of all. A cosplayer only needs to worry about costuming one person. Generally themselves, and depending on how experienced they are, they already know their own size, what’s gonna look good on it and how it’s gonna fit. They’re only obliged to make one costume per event and how intricate or impressive it looks is up to them.

A costume designer for a movie or tv show has to make costumes for a cast of people they’ve likely never worked with before, take their sizes, do multiple fittings and then make sure those costumes are durable enough to last the entire shooting time and look good consistently.

 A cosplayer’s costume only needs to look good for about a day, and it’s completely within their means to shed bulkier items like wings, high-heeled shoes, crowns or wigs if they want to rest before a big photo shoot. A costume for filming needs to last for an entire shooting day, and then guess what? That actor needs to wake up the next morning and put it on, again. For a couple of weeks at least. It’s important that they’re comfortable. They can’t just take it off halfway through the convention. Adding to that, the costumer will likely need to make quite a few replicas of the costume in question, for different shooting days, and in different sizes for stunt doubles or stand-ins. 

Body paint rant: Yes I’m upset that Beast Boy isn’t green. You can be upset that Lagoona isn’t blue. But body paint is a whole different circus in an official workplace. I’ve done body paint for cosplay and seen body paint done for cosplay. It was irritable, caused horrific acne and my partner’s pink body paint for Mina started cracking halfway through the day, so we scrubbed it off. Cosplayers only deal with body paint for a day or two, not needing to worry about the back of their neck or up the arms because it only needs to look good for certain photograph angles.

Actors wake up early so they can sit in make-up for two hours to make sure it looks good from every camera angle and under heavy studio lights, which is then reapplied between every shot so it looks consistent. There’s a reason Jennifer Lawrence quit the Xmen films. I’m not surprised they didn’t have Lagoona be blue. That’s a horrible thing to do to a little girl, especially if you’re setting up to do that through her adolescence every couple of years for a huge franchise. I’m not surprised that Beast Boy isn’t green. If Ryan Potter’s skin is sensitive to the paint they used, it’d break out in massive acne or rashes that will plunge his chances of success in an industry that hinges on good looks. 

(Also; Many documented instances of actors having to quit films and tv shows because certain paints used, made them physically unwell and unable to perform). 

Cosplayers with more intricate cosplays do better, because it looks more impressive. Costumes in film and tv look better simpler, with a coherent sense throughout the whole production. Think of iconic film and TV looks. Leia’s white dress. Bella’s grey jacket. Cinderella’s ball dress. Less is more, because that translates better visually in a space where all of the different elements are competing for attention. Also, cosplayers are only accountable for what they buy and use. If they lose a prop, or a bead, or a piece of jewellery, they can be disappointed, but move on with their lives. Costumers have to be accountable for every little bit of intricate costume-dressing, and if they lose something or break something, that has to be reported to their boss and possibly come out of their paycheck, or worse, their reputation. 

The last thing I’ll say specifically refers to the Monster High costumes. I hold that costumer in high regard. It a perfect translation of cartoony, outlandish outfits the characters wear, made to suit, fit and be wearable by actual little girls. The cropped shirts, tightly-fitted pants and fish-net stockings the characters wore in the cartoon looked stylish and wonderful as a cartoon. But for the actual teen actors playing them, I think those outfits would have been inappropriate. It makes me sad when i see drawn redesigns of the live-action costumes and they just make the outfits skimpy again. Yeah, the costumes look a little cheap. Yeah, the grown-ass cosplayers look more cartoon accurate. But I could see a little girl being able to replicate live-action Clawdeen Wolf’s outfit so easily and she’s the actual target audience. 

(The production also has bigger problems than underwhelming costumes re; problematic director)

I’m not undermining cosplayers. They do a fantastic job of dedicating time, money and skills to look as good as they do. But they’re not costumers. They shouldn’t be lauded as costumers (unless they have TV and Film experience) and please acknowledge there’s a lot more that goes into making an outfit for film than just looking impressive visually. 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 2

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,600ish

Summary: Your second day as an intern continues.....

You were trying not to make it obvious that you were hurrying down the hall. But you were pretty sure you were failing miserably. As you continued, without looking back, a hand suddenly grabbed your upper arm and pulled you into an on-call room.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, stumbling through the door. You looked to see that it was Steve—Dr. Rogers. “Dr. Rogers—“

“Dr. Rogers?” He repeated, sounding a little hurt. “This morning it was Steve. Now it’s Dr. Rogers.”

“Dr. Rogers, we should pretend it never happened.”

“What never happened, you sleeping with me last night? Or you throwing me out this morning? Because both are fond memories I’d like to hold onto.”

“No. There will be no memories. I'm not the girl in the bar anymore, and you're not the guy. This can't exist. You get that, right?”

“You took advantage of me and now you want to forget about it.”

“I did not take—“

“I was drunk, vulnerable and good-looking and you took advantage.”

You gave him a tight smile. “Okay, I was the one who was drunk, and you are not that good-looking.”

“Well, maybe not today. But last night, last night I was very good-looking. I had my blue shirt on, my good-looking shirt, you took advantage.”

“I did not take—“

“You want to take advantage again? Say Friday night?”

“Did you just— No! You're an attending. And I'm your intern. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you’ve seen me naked.” 

Steve simply smirked. “Well, I have.” 

“Dr. Rogers. This is inappropriate. Has that ever occurred to you?”

You quickly left the room, leaving Steve staring at the shutting door with a sigh. He stepped out and over to the nearest nurses station.

“Oh, no,” another doctor came up, handing papers over to a nurse behind a desk. “I’ve seen that look before… I know that look, I think I invented it.”

“Oh shut it, Tony,” Steve said, coming up beside him.

“You know you—“

“I said shut it, didn’t I?”

“Okay, okay.” Tony held his hands up in defense. “I’ll shut it. Just don’t come whining to me when it all blows to hell.”

~~~

Deciding you needed to get your mind off Dr. Rogers, you went up to the OR gallery. You were sitting with other interns, watching Scott Lang prep for surgery.

“He’s going to faint,” one of the interns commented. “He’s a fainter.”

“Naaah, code brown,” another one added. “Right in his pants.”

“He’s all about the flops. He’s going to sweat himself unsterile.”

“Ten bucks says he messes up the McBird,” a third one said.

“Twenty says he cries,” Natasha, who you were seated by, said.

“I’ll put twenty on a total meltdown,” the second intern added.

“Fifty says he pulls the whole thing off,” you interrupted, fed up. Everyone looked at you, silent, while your eyes remained on Scott. “That’s one of us down there. The first one of us. Where’s your loyalty?” 

There was a brief pause before Natasha continued, “Seventy five says he can’t even ID the appendix.”

“I’ll take that action,” Val responded, others agreeing.

“Okay, Lang,” Maria Hill said in the OR, which you could hear in the gallery. “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Here it comes,” you whispered, trying to be hopeful.

“Scalpel,” Scott requested, hand out.

“Scalpel,” a nurse replied, putting the instrument in his hand.

As Scott took it, the interns cheered from in the gallery. Dr. Hill quickly motioned for them to shut up.

“That Hill, she’s trouble,” Val commented, causing some interns to laugh.

“More pressure,” Hill advised as Scott got ready to cut. “Human flesh is a tough shell, dig in.”

“Pick-ups,” Scott requested after cutting.

“Pick-ups,” the nurse responded.

“Clamp.”

“Clamp.”

“Met some bone. I’m there.”

“Damn, he got the peritoneum and he opened him up,” a male intern commented.

“I told you,” you gloated. “He’s going to pull it off.”

“Scalpel,” Scott requested.

“Scalpel,” the nurse responded.

All of the interns watched with bated breath as Scott preformed the procedure.

“Appendix is out,” Scott stated, tossing it into a tray while the interns cheered.

“Not bad,” Hill commented.

“Thank you.”

“Now all you have to do is invert the stump into the chum and simultaneously pull up on the purse-strings but be careful not to—“ a rip sound came through “—break them.” Hill groaned. “He ripped the cecum. Got a bleeder. You’re filling with stool, what do you do now?”

“Uh.. uh….”

“Think. You start the suction, and you start digging for those purse-strings before she bleeds to death. Coulson, give him a clamp.”

“BP’s dropping,” a nurse informed.

“He’s choking,” Natasha stated.

“Come on, Scott,” you whispered.

“Today,” Hill urged, getting irritated. “Pull your balls out of your back pocket, let's go. What are you waiting for, suction?” Beeping started.

“Getting too low folks,” the nurse said. “Dr. Hill…”

“Get out of the way,” Hill said, pushing Scott over to take his place. “Pansy-ass idiot. Get him out of here. Suction… Clamp.”

“007,” the male intern from before stated.

“007,” another intern repeated. “Yep, that’s a total 007.”

“What’s 007 mean?” Val asked.

“Licensed to kill,” you answered.

~~~

A few hours later, you and the rest of your intern group had found a basement hallway with empty beds along it. You all decided it was a nice place to lay low for a moment.

“007,” Scott muttered. “They're calling me 007, aren't they?”

“No one’s calling you 007,” you and Clint responded.

“I was on the elevator and Quill whispered 007.”

“Oh, how many times do we have go through this, Scott, five, ten?” Natasha was fed up. “Give me a number or else I'm going to hit you.”

“Quill whispered 007 and everyone laughed.”

“He wasn’t talking about you,” Val said.

“You sure?”

“Would we lie to you?” You asked.

“Yes.”

“007 is a state of mind,” Natasha said.

“So says the girl who finished top of her class as Stanford.”

All of their pagers went off, causing them to look down at them.

“Oh man,” you grumbled. “It’s 911 for Savannah Chase. I gotta go.” You ran off, leaving the rest of them there.

“Maybe I should've gone into geriatrics,” Scott continued. “No one minds when you kill an old person.”

“Surgery is hot, it's the Marines, it's the macho, it's hostile, it's hardcore,” Natasha said. “Geriatrics is for freaks who live with their mothers and never have sex.”

“I’ve got to get my own place.”

“Same,” Clint agreed.

~~~

Running into Savannah’s room, you immediately noticed that she was sitting up, reading a magazine.

“Took you long enough,” Savanah said.

“You’re okay?” You huffed, trying to catch your breath. “The nurse paged me 911.”

“I had to go all Exorcist to get her to even pick up the phone.”

“Wait. There’s—There’s nothing wrong with you?”

“I’m bored.” She shrugged. “I thought you could help me.”

“You little— I’m not your personal assistant.”

“You don't have to wig out. The pageant's supposed to be on cable, but this crappy hospital doesn't get the channel. If that cow Casey Childs is gonna walk off with my crown, I have to see it. Can you call someone?”

“Okay. This is an actual hospital. There are sick people here. Go to sleep, and stop wasting my time.”

“But I can't sleep. My head's all full.”

“That's called thinking. Go with it.” 

You stormed off. If this is how the patients were all the time, you didn’t know how much longer you could last. And it was only your first day, of your intern year.

~~~

Hours later, you were standing at a nurses station, working on paperwork for a patient, while you overheard another conversation.

“4B’s got post-op pneumonia,” it was a male intern from before. “Let’s start antibiotics.”

“Are you sure that’s the right diagnosis?” A male nurse questioned.

“Well I don't know, I'm only an intern. Here's an idea, why don't you go spend four years in med school and let me know if it's the right diagnosis. She's short of breath, she's got fever, she's post-op. Start the antibiotics.” The intern walked over to you, clearly checking you out. “I hate nurses. I’m Peter. I’m with Sam Wilson, you’re with Gamora, right?”

“She may not have pneumonia, you know. She could be splinting, or have a PE.”

“Like I said, I hate nurses.” Peter began to walk away.

“What did you just say? Did you just call me a nurse?”

“Well, if the white cap fits…”

You groaned as your pager beeped, turning away to not have to see Peter anymore. “Damn it, Savannah.” You left, not an any hurry to get to Savannah’s room.

“She seeing anybody?” Peter asked Clint.

“I don’t know,” Clint replied.

Peter whistled. “She’s hot.”

“I'm friends with her. I mean, kinda friends, I mean, not, you know, actually friends, not exactly, but we're tight. We hang out. I mean, really only just today—“

“Dude.”

“—but—“

“Dude. Stop talking.”

~~~

You took your time getting to Katie’s room. As you walked up the hallway towards her room, you noticed nurses rushing in. That’s when you finally picked up your pace.

“What took you so long?” A blonde female nurse yelled as you entered the room, overwhelmed by the sight before you.

“She's having multiple grand mal seizures, now how do you want to proceed?” A male nurse asked. You froze at the doorway, unable to move. “Dr. L/N? Are you listening to me? She's got Diazepam, 2mg Diazepam, I just gave her a second ago, Dr. L/N, you need to tell us what you want to do. Dr. L/N!”

Still panicking, you picked up Katie’s chart. “Okay, she’s full on prazepam?” You asked.

“She’s had 4mg,” the female nurse responded.

“Did you page Dr. Gamora and Dr. Rogers?”

“Yes!”

“The prazepam’s not working,” the male nurse stated.

“Phenobarbital, load her with Phenobarbital,” you ordered, still struggling to move from your spot. The scene before you, extremely overwhelming.

“Pheno’s in.”

“No change,” a third nurse said.

“You paged Dr. Rogers?” You repeated.

“I just told you—“

“Well page him again! Stat!”

“What do you want to do? Dr. L/N, you need to tell us what you want to do!” The monitors started beeping. “Heart’s stopped!”

“Code blue, code blue! Code blue, code blue!” The first nurse shouted.

The nurses pulled out the defibrillators as your brain finally began to work again. You quickly took the defibrillators away from the nurse.

“Charge pulse of two hundred,” you ordered.

“Charged,” the nurse responded. “Clear.” You used the defibrillators on Katie’s chest, only to get no response. “Still defib. Nothing. 19 seconds.”

“Charge to 300.”

“300.” You tried again, only to fail. “27 seconds.”

“Charge to 360.” You tried again, with still nothing. “Come on, Savannah.”

“49 seconds.”

“At 60 seconds you’re supposed to admit her—“

“Charge again!” You ordered, the nurse not following. “Charge again.” The nurse does and you try again. On the monitor you see Savannah’s blood pressure (BP) register. “Anything?”

“I see sinus rhythm,” the first nurse replied.

“Blood pressure’s coming up,” the second nurse added.

“Alright now. Pressure’s returning. Grid’s coming back—“

“What the hell happened?” Dr. Rogers asked, running into the room.

“She had a seizure,” you responded, “and—“

“A seizure?”

“Her heart stopped.”

“You were supposed to be monitoring her.”

“I checked on her and she—“

“I got it.” Dr. Rogers started checking Savannah. “Just—just go.” You turned away, heading out. “Someone give me her chart, please?”

As you walked out of the room, you weren’t feeling the greatest. You were still overwhelmed and disappointed in yourself. Gamora was waiting for you not far outside the room.

“You get a 911, you page me immediately,” Gamora stated, “not in the five minutes it takes you to get to the emergency, immediately, you are on my team and if somebody dies it's my ass.” You kept walking, needing some fresh air. “You hear me, L/N?”

“Y/N?” Natasha called out.

You kept walking, ignoring everyone. Natasha followed you as you exited the main doors. It was raining outside, but you didn’t care. You leaned over and threw up on the patch of grass outside the hospital. Natasha watched from the doorway. Taking a deep breath, you wiped your mouth and headed back for the doors.

“If you tell anyone, ever…” You threatened Natasha as you entered the hospital.

~~~

Just after hour 24, all the interns were paged to the conference room. Looking around, you could tell everyone was exhausted. Natasha was sitting next to you, you furrowed your brows in confusion as you watched her.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m suturing a banana,” Natasha answered, “with the vain hope that it wakes up my brain.” Scott laughed from beside them. “What’re you smiling at, 007?” Scott immediately stopped laughing. “I’m sorry, I get mean when I’m tired.”

“You know what? I don’t care,” Scott said. “I comforted a family, and I get to hang out in the OR today. All is well.”

“Does anybody know why we’re here?” Clint asked.

“We’re probably all getting fired,” Val suggested. “And we’ve only been here for 24 hours. They’re going to get rid of the whole class and start fresh.”

“Well good morning,” Dr. Rogers greeted as he entered the room with Gamora. “I'm going to do something pretty rare for a surgeon, I'm going to ask interns for help. I've got this kid, Savannah Chase. Right now, she's a mystery. She doesn't respond to her meds. Labs are clean, scans are pure, but she's having seizures. Grand mal seizures with no visible cause. She's a ticking clock. She's going to die, if I don't make a diagnosis. Which is where you come in. I can't do it alone. I need your extra minds, extra eyes, I need you to play detective, I need you to find out why Savannah is having seizures. I know you're tired, you're busy, you've got more work than you could possibly handle. I understand. So, I'm going to give you an incentive. Whoever finds the answer rides with me. Savannah needs surgery. You get to do what no interns get to do. Scrub in to assist on an advanced procedure. Dr Gamora's going to hand you Savannah's chart. The clock is ticking fast, people. If we're going to save Savannah's life, we have to do it soon.”

All the interns grabbed copies of her chart and went their separate ways. You stayed sitting at the conference room table, trying to avoid helping with Savannah’s case.

“Hey, I want in on Rogers’ surgery,” Natasha stated, turning to you. "You've been the intern on Savannah since the start. You want to work together? We find the answer, we have a fifty-fifty chance of scrubbing in.”

“I'll work with you, but I don't want in on the surgery,” you replied. “You can have it.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the biggest opportunity any intern will ever get.”

“I don’t want to spend any more time with Rogers than I have to.”

“What do you have against Rogers?”

“If we find the answer, the surgery’s yours. Do you want to work together or not?”

Natasha grinned, nodding her head. “Oh yeah.”

~~~

“Well, she doesn't have anoxia, chronic renal failure or acidosis,” Natasha stated while you and her were seated at a table in the medical center’s library. “It's not a tumor because her CT's clean. Are you seriously not going to tell me why you won't work with Rogers?”

“Nope,” you replied. “What about infection?”

“No. There's no white count, she has no ceteal lesions, no fevers, nothing in her spinal tap, just tell me.”

“You can't comment, make a face, or react in any way.” Natasha gave a slight nod. “We had sex.”

Natasha’s mouth opened in surprise before she quickly closed it. “What about an aneurysm?” She continued, trying to do as you had asked.

“No blood on the CT, and no headaches.”

“Okay. There's no drug use, uh, no pregnancy, no trauma… was he good? I mean, he looks like he would be, was it any good?”

“What are the answers?” You ignored her questions. The truth was, he was good. REALLY good. The best sex you’ve had in, well, ever. “What if no one comes up with anything?”

“You mean if she dies?”

“Yeah.”

“This is gonna sound really bad, but I really wanted that surgery.”

“She's just never going to get the chance to turn into a person. The sum total of her existence will be almost winning Miss Teen whatever. You know what her pageant talent is?”

"They have talent?”

“Rhythmic gymnastics.” You both laughed.

“Oh, come on.”

“What is rhythmic gymnastics? I don't know - I can't even say it, I don't know what it is.”

“Isn’t it like something with a ball, and a—“ You suddenly went still, realizing what was going on with Savannah. “What? Y/N, what?”

“Get up!” You jumped up. “Come on!”

You explained to Natasha, as you both ran to find Dr. Rogers, that you believed she had an aneurysm.

“—the only thing she could possibly need is a—“ Natasha was saying as you found Dr. Rogers heading onto an elevator. “Oh, oh, Dr. Rogers! Just one moment, um, uh, Savannah competes in beauty pageants—“

“I know that,” Dr. Rogers responded. “But we have to save her life anyway.”

“Okay, she has no headaches, no neck pain, her CT's clean, there's no medical proof of an aneurysm—“

“Right.” Dr. Rogers stepped into the elevator.

“—but what if she has an aneurysm anyway?”

“There are no indicators.”

“Ah,” Natasha stopped the elevator, “but she twisted her ankle, a few weeks ago when she was practicing for the pageant—“

“Look, I appreciate you're trying to help, but—“

“This is not helping!” A doctor in the elevator shouted.

“She fell,” you tried. “When she twisted her ankle, she fell.”

“It was no big deal, not even a bump on the head,” Natasha explained, “you know she got right back up, iced her ankle and everything was fine, it was a fall so minor her doctor didn't even think to mention it when I was taking her history, but she did fall.”

“Well, you know the chances that a minor fall could burst an aneurysm, one in a million!” Dr. Rogers said. “Literally.”

The elevator door finally was allowed to close. You and Natasha looked at each other with a sigh before turning away. You’re caught by surprise when you hear the elevator ding. Turning back around, you see Dr. Rogers stepping out.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

“Where?” Natasha asked.

“To find out if Savannah’s one in a million.”

~~~

Getting Savannah’s scans done and back seemed like an eternity for the three of you. When the scans were finally up, it turned out that you had been right.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dr. Rogers commented.

“There is it,” the tech operating the scan pointed at the dark spots on the monitor.

“It's minor, but it's there. It's a cerebachnoid haemorrhage. She's bleeding into her brain. Let’s go.” Dr. Rogers led them out of the room and down the hall. “She could've gone her entire life without it ever being a problem. One tap in the right spot—“

“And explode,” Natasha said.

“Exactly. Now I have to fix it. You two did great work. Love to stay and kiss your asses, but I gotta tell Savannah s parents she's having surgery.” They reached the nurses station. “Savannah Chase's chart, please.”

“Here you go,” a nurse said, handing it over.

“Oh, and Dr. Rogers,” Natasha said, "you said that you’d pick someone to scrub in if we helped.”

“Oh, yes, right,” Dr. Rogers responded. “Um, I'm sorry I can't take you both, it's going to be a full house. Y/N, I'll see you in OR.” You looked at Dr. Rogers, who’s blue eyes felt like they could see right through you. Natasha was also looking at you, waiting for you to give her the surgery. “Good,” Dr. Rogers continued, “thank you.” Then he took his leave.

Natasha looked back at you, clearly pissed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You said that you didn’t want to work with him anymore, that if we worked together and found the answer, you’d give me the surgery.”

“Natasha…”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Don’t Natasha me. He looked at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and you couldn’t say no! You’re already wrapped around his finger and I’m not going to be a pawn in the game.” 

She stormed off. Leaving you standing there, knowing she was right.

~~~

Natasha and Val were sitting back in the empty corridor with the spare beds, again. 

“Val,” Natasha complained, trying to get Val to stop making excuses for you.

“Maybe Y/N couldn’t—“

“Val!”

“I’ll tell him I changed my mind,” you said, coming into the corridor. “You can—“

“No, no, don’t do me any favors. It’s fine.”

“Natasha—“

“You know what, you did a cutthroat thing, deal with it. Don't come to me for absolution, you want to be a shark, be a shark.”

“I’m not—“

“Oh yes you are. Only it makes you feel all bad in your warm gooey places. No, screw you. I don't get picked for surgeries because I slept with my boss. You know, some of us have to earn what we get.” Natasha stormed away, again.

“Wait…” Val said from behind. “You slept with someone… who did you sleep with?!” You groaned, resting your head in your hands. “Was it Stark? I’ve only met him once but he’s hot. But I’d only hit Banner and Hill too. Oh! Was it—“

“I’m not doing this.” You shook your head and walked away.

“I’ll find out soon enough!” Val laughed.

~~~

You went searching for Dr. Rogers, determined to give the surgery to Natasha. You found him shaving Savannah’s head.

“I promised I’d make her look cool,” he said upon noticing you. “Apparently being a bald beauty queen is the worst thing that happened in the history of the world.”

“Did you choose me for the surgery because I slept with you?” You quietly asked.

“Yes,” he quickly answered before a long pause. “I’m kidding.”

“I'm not going to scrub in for surgery. You should ask Natasha. She really wants it.”

“You're Savannah's doctor. And on your first day, with very little training, you helped save her life. You earned the right to follow her case to the finish. You… you shouldn't let the fact that we had sex get in the way of you taking your shot. Besides, it was very good sex. It should have given you a boost.”

“Dr. Rogers, I— ugh!” You quickly left, leaving him to chuckled to himself.

~~~

Clint and you were outside of the medical center, needing some fresh air. Clint sat on a bench as you paced in front of him.

“I wish I wanted to be a chef,” you said. “Or a ski instructor. Or a kindergarten teacher.”

“You know, I would've been a really good postal worker,” Clint said, dazed. “I'm dependable. You know, my parents tell everyone they meet that their son's a surgeon. As if it's a big accomplishment. A superhero or something. If they could see me now…”

“When I told my mother I wanted to go to medical school, she tried to talk me out of it. Said I didn't have what it takes to be a surgeon. That I'd never make it. So, the way I see it, superhero sounds pretty damn good.”

“We’re going to survive this, right?”

“We can only hope.”

~~~

You were standing at a nurses station, trying to fill in a patient chart, as Dr. Fury, the Chief of Surgery, was taking to Peter Quill, the intern.

“She’s still short of breath,” Fury stated. “Did you get an ABG or a chest film?”

“Oh, yes sir, I did,” Peter answered, a little bit too cockily.

“And what did you see?”

“Oh, well, I had a lot of patients last—“

“Name the common causes of post-op fever.”

“Uh… yes, sir.” Peter quickly pulled a notebook out of his pocket.

“From your head. Not from a book. don’t look it up, learn it. It should be in your head. Name the common causes of post-op fever.”

“Uh...the common causes of post-op…”

“Can anybody name the common causes of post-op fever?” Fury shouted to the whole floor. Everyone stopped, one girl pulling out her own notebook.

“Wind, water, wound, walking, wonder drugs,” you stated, causing everyone to look at you. “The five W’s. Most of the time it’s wind, splinting or pneumonia. Pneumonia’s easy to assume, especially if you’re too busy to do the tests.”

Fury gave Peter a pointed look before looking back at you. “What do you think’s wrong with 4B?”

“The fourth W, walking. I think she’s a promise candidate for a pulmonary ambulus.”

“How would you diagnose?”

“Spiral CT, VQ scan, provide O2, dose with Heparin, and consult for an IVC filter.”

Fury turned back to Peter. “Do exactly as she says, then tell Wilson that I want you off this case.” He turned back to you and Peter walked away. “Very impressive, Dr. L/N. Can’t wait to see more. Welcome to the gang.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

~~~

You were scrubbed in and waiting in the OR with the rest of those who would be on Savannah’s surgery before Dr. Rogers was. The OR and gallery were full, wanting to watch the one in a million brain aneurysm.

“Alright everybody,” Dr. Rogers said, coming in with his red-white-and-blue scrub cap on. “It’s a beautiful night to save lives. Let’s have some fun.”

You watched in awe as Dr. Rogers performed the surgery. It was the greatest thing you had ever witnessed and you longed to be more apart of it than you were. After the surgery was over, you sat outside the OR in a happy daze. 

“It was a good surgery,” Natasha said as she stopped in front of you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

Natasha sat beside you, sighing. “We don't have to do that thing where I say something, and then you say something, and then somebody cries, and there's like a moment—“

“Yuck.”

“Good. You should get some sleep. You look like crap.”

“I look better than you.”

“That’s not possible.” 

Natasha then took her leave. Dr. Rogers then came out of the OR. He stopped at the desk for some paperwork while you stared at him, still dazed.

“That was amazing,” you said with a shy smile.

“Mmm,” Dr. Rogers hummed in agreement, still working on the papers.

“You practice on cadavers, you observe, and you think you know what you're going to feel like standing over that table, but...that was such a high.” Dr. Rogers looked at you and nodded. “I don’t know why anybody does drugs.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

Dr. Rogers smiled back a bit. “I should go do this.”

“You should.”

He started walking backwards, unable to take his eyes off you just yet. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you around.” 

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[5csbin]

HAUNTED HOUSE !

HALLOWEEN TXT EDITION!

txt x neutral reader !

WARNING !: cursing! knifes! haunted house! JYP AND 6IX9INE!

a very crack and dumb one shot i made.

“MANE IF YALL DONT SHUT THE FUCK UP!” taehyun shouted as they were walking up to the line since everyone began to nag.

"this is why i wanted to go trick or treating instead." beomgyu pouted and folded his arms as he and the rest of the group waited in line to go inside of the haunted house.

well it was more like a haunted barn, where they would all get on a hayride and be driven throughout the barn and be spooked supposedly. "trick or treating?? how old are you again?" kai mocked him,

"no offense but i'm starting to think you were right when you said beomgyu was still mentally 9 years old because.. this is starting to get worrying. what 19 year old is trying go trick or treating?" yeonjun added in agreement, while taehyun shot him a dirty look for throwing shade at his best friend.

beomgyu’s first instinct was to scoot closer to (y/n), but he then fired off a clapback of his own. "the only thing that's worrying is that wig you're wearing, who the fuck are you even supposed to be? lord farquad on crack?" gyu fired back at yeonjun, who was now touching the short black bob on top of his head.

soobin couldn't help but laugh, even though it was his own boyfr- bestfriend getting flamed and soon, everybody else in the group let out laughter at gyu’s clapback. even taehyun, who couldn't stand beomgyu, was practically crying laughing at what was said.

"actually, i'm supposed to be dora," yeonjun replied, gesturing to his pink t shirt and bright orange jeans. "and soobin is.. well diego." he pulled soobin closer to him after saying that and kissed his forehead, before ruffling his blueberry curls a little.

"wait.. ain't dora and diego supposed to be cousins?" taehyun asked, his mouth curling in disgust, "i don't think that's positive..." kai added.

“cousin lovers.” (y/n) said making yeonjun smack their arm.

it was a wonder how they didn't annoy the others waiting in line for their ride, since they would fight every second. meanwhile as the group turn drew closer and closer, beomgyu found himself regretting agreeing to come here.

it was weird.. he loved horror movies, but he despised haunted houses because even though both were fake events, being in a haunted house was just so up close and personal you know?

if it wasn't for it being (y/n)'s birthday (lets just pretend ur birthday was on halloween.) beomgyu wouldn't have came, and he would have probably just stayed at home and took pictures of his costume for instagram before going over to hyunjin’s to watch scary movies.

(y/n) noticed that beomgyu looked uncomfortable amongst all of the roasts and jokes flying amongst the group and they decided to ask what was wrong.

"gyu, why do you look so sad? being sad is my job," (y/n) asked as the group continued to move up in the line. "i'm not sad," beomgyu answered. "i'm just nervous, i don't like haunted houses.. i had a really bad panic attack the last time i went to one, and i don't wanna have one and ruin your birthday or anything.. i probably should have just stayed my ass home."

"nah, you not going to ruin my birthday, you're my friend and i care about you... it won't be that scary, it's literally a haunted barn. you know what barns have? cows and chickens. now who's scared of cows and chickens? nobody. except blades of grass."

the little pep talk made gyu feel slightly calmer. "thanks," he replied, fumbling with the thick leather choker around his neck. "your costume is really cute by the way. i like the face paint."

"thanks, it was kai’s idea actually," they responded with a chipper edge to their voice. (y/n)' costume consisted of a sweatshirt and sweatpants with a skeleton printed on the front, and his face was made up to look like a skull.

after beomgyu was calm, he found himself overhearing a conversation between hueningkai, taehyun, and his knives.

"no tae, you can't bring your knives in here with you," hyuka shook his head as taehyun kept asking if he could run back to the car real quick and grab his knives "cmon kai, just in case a demon wanna try some shit"

"well.. can i get my ouija board?" tyun asked, his lips twisting into a devious smile. "i just wanna talk to the demons, it's halloween, and if it's any day i should be allowed to do this, it's today."

"ain't there no demons.. this is a barn. you wanna talk to demonic horses and shit?" yeonjun pokes in the conversation and raised an eyebrow.

"yes? of course i do, the fuck do you think i am?" taehyun whined, pointing to the devil horns on top of his head as the group finally made it to the front of the line and were waiting for the tractor to come back so that they could get on the hayride.

finally, after they all stood around and handed in their tickets to the clerk in front of the line, their tractor was ready, pulling along the hay covered cart as it came to a stop in front of the barn entrance, waiting for the group to board it.

"wait, hay? y'all ain't say there was going to be hay..." soobin complained, his skin already itching just by looking at all that hay. "y'all do know i'm allergic to hay right?"

"bitchhh, we been said it was a hayride involved," hueningkai snapped, "what you done caught the (y/n) disease where you forget everything every minutes or what?"

"aye i don't forget everything, i just be high," (y/n) cut in as they handed in their tickets to the clerk. "and i'm allergic to hay!" soobin cried out, scratching his forearm.

soobin actually is allergic to hay, but it wasn't something severe, he just got irritated by it and it caused his skin to rash up, not like his skin didn't already look as if it was full of rashes.

(that not true btw)

"oh well," hueningkai replied in a deadpan tone, shrugging. "guess you'll just die then."

after they've all handed in their tickets, everyone began to board the hay filled cart, with everyone obviously choosing to be closest to their besties.

when they got onto the cart. soobin was snuggled up to yeonjun, playing with his diego the explore backpack trying to ignore the itchy feeling the hay gave him.taehyun was resting his head on (y/n)’s shoulder, whining about his knifes, beomgyu was clinging onto kai for dear life, because he was still scared after all.

"i better not hear none of y'all screaming like no pussies after we get in here," yeonjun started after the tractor began to start up and drive them into the dark, cool barn. "how y'all gon be scared of demons when i'm taehyun a whole demon. y'all scared of him now?"

"actually, yes, i'm scared of him just a little bit," beomgyu answered, his tone groggy.

"considering he tried to kill me on multiple occasions and almost succeeded, yes yeonjun, i'm scared of taehyun and he make me fear for my life." soobin added on, slightly flinching at just saying the word taehyun.

"that was before i became positive," taehyun suddenly flashed soobin and beomgyu a toothy smile, "just like i'm positive that none of these demons or zombies or whatever the fuck is in this barn is gon' do shit to us."

"tae if you don't shut your ass up, there’s no demons in here, nor is there any zombies, they are paid actors. you wish you was in a horror movie so bad," hueningkai cut in, once again ruining tyun’s fun.

as of right now, nothing scary was going on. just the typical music playing throughout the barn, random screams, and plastic skeletons appearing out of nowhere. shit that made little kids be scared of, but anyone else wouldn't be phased. not even beomgyu was phased by what was going on, and he was the main one who was scared to come along.

but then.. things started to get more spooky. the people who were sitting on the edge would start to get grabbed and poked without warning, and people would come up on side of the cart out of nowhere and scream or otherwise bring attention to themselves, which would catch them off guard obviously, but shit like that was to be expected at a haunted house.. or in this case a haunted barn.

but soon though, things began to get downright creepy.

as they were sitting in the cart, slightly startled and caught off guard by the jumpscares, but not too shaken up, not even beomgyu was that scared, as he made sure to sit in the middle of the cart to avoid being randomly grabbed or touched by these strangers in costume, and it was just amusing to people like taehyun or (y/n), they weren't prepared for what started to happen next.

soon the music that sounded as if it was from a demonic nursery cut out mid note, and it was replaced by an old, gravely sounding voice that began to sing happy birthday very terribly and off key.

and they thought this was creepy, considering it was gus' birthday, but they considered it was a coincidence. "damn (n/n), they singing happy birthday to you, that's wild," yeonjun noticed, laughing at the 'coincidence'.

"see, i told y'all they’re really a skeleton, how else would they know that we're here for their birthday, hmm?" beomgyu added matter of factly causing the others to let out laughter.

so even though it was somewhat unsettling, it didn't become horrifying until the voice replaced "happy birthday to you," with "happy birthday (y/n)."

the place then became a chorus of "did yall hear that shit?" and "yeo what the fuck?!" after they noticed that, with (y/n) in particular being especially shook that there seemed to be a demon singing specifically to them, and their eyes went wide as the voice continued to serenade them, albeit poorly.

"see, this ain't it no more." soobin announced and hueningkai nodded in agreement. "h-how do they know it's (n/n)' birthday? much less who (y/n) is?" beomgyu asked as he held onto (y/n) even tighter than he was before. "i'm scared now."

"that's what we all want to know," yeonjun answered before reaching up to adjust his wig, before feeling nothing but his real hair tied back. he knew his wig didn't fall off or get snatched off, he had it secured with bobby pins, because it was one of his mother's wigs and he didn't want to lose it, but it had just completely disappeared.

"uh...my wig is gone," yeonjun announced and soobin just nodded. "same."

"no i mean it's for real gone... my dora or lord farquaad or whatever the fuck wig i was wearing earlier just.. disappeared into thin air." yeonjun continued to explain as he continued to search the surrounding area for it, just in case it fell out of his head but it was actually gone.

"see, i told y'all asses there were demons in here, but y'all didn’t wanna listen now y'all getting your shit taken, and demons are singing happy birthday to (y/n) and shit, and now y'all shocked," taehyun added with a huff.

"tyun, ain't no demons in here. if there were demons in here, they would do a lot worse than steal hats and wigs and sing happy birthday, believe that. they'd be torturing us psychologically, and- wait, where the fuck is my sheep hat?" hueningkai touched the top of his head, where his costume top was missing from, and now he was heated.

"yeah, we gotta get outta here."

more shit like that continued to happen with the voice continuing to reference them by name, and reference stuff that only people that know them would know, like soobin almost running someone over once, or yeonjun’s furry suit,and then, near the end of the ride, it all came together in the worst possible way.

a single echoing voice with a thick new york accent screaming "SCUUUUM GANGGGG!" followed by a laugh in the distance that sounded a lot like jyp’s laugh.

and in that moment, all of them literally hopped off of the cart and ran towards the exit.

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

2020 Can Take My Hair, But Not My Hope

My hair started falling out on election night.

I thought at first it might be the anxiety, that I was literally pulling my hair out with worry over numbers I already knew were not going to be definitive before the night wore into morning but which I stayed up until 3:30am watching anyway. I tweeted rapidly, reassuring my jittery timeline that not only had we all known that the night would bring no results but that we had even expected Trump to lead in key states because of the greater number of mail-in ballots from urban areas that would largely count for Biden. We knew. We all knew. But we were all terrified, flashing back to 2016 and already dreading another four years of living life on high alert, in constant survival mode.

I posted a selfie with a tweet that read, "Could be the last presidential election I vote in (blah blah stage 4 cancer blah blah) and I wish it were better and clearer than this but it's a crucial privilege to have voted. Remember, whatever the outcome, the last thing they can take from you is your hope."

To me that last sentence has been a mantra for these years and for my treatment. I have consistently refused, despite overwhelmingly terrible odds, to lose hope. The story of Pandora's Box tells us that the very last thing left inside was Hope--that even once all the demons were out in the world there was that tiny, feathered creature left to hang on to. It hasn't been easy, but I am one of the most stubborn people you will ever meet (and if you doubt this just ask anyone who's ever fought me on anything!) and it has turned out to be a saving grace rather than an irritating personality trait. Feeling like the world was trying to take my hope away made me angry. And when I get angry I will fight back.

I know I'm not alone in feeling like we entered some kind of alternate nightmare timeline on election night 2016. To that point, despite periods of immense personal difficulty, nothing truly terrible had happened to me. Then, in short order, my marriage ended and I was diagnosed with and began being treated for a terminal illness, all against the backdrop of a regime so deliberately hateful that it was truly incomprehensible to me. Then, a global pandemic and national crisis swept away the small consolations I'd found in my new life with cancer. The temptation to feel hopeless was strong and I struggled with it, particularly in the isolation of quarantine. I'm struggling with it now, facing a winter of further lockdowns, social isolation, continued chemo, and the added indignity (and chilliness!) of not having any hair. But somehow the coincidence of my hair loss with election night seemed like a good omen for the future, if a sad thing for the present.

I heard the news that they had called Pennsylvania for Biden at a peaceful Airbnb in the Catskills after stepping out of a shower where lost hair in handfuls. It felt oddly like a sacrifice I had made personally. I joked about this with friends on the text chains that lit up and that (despite my promise to myself and my writing partner that we'd "go off the grid") I responded to immediately. Instant replies, with emojis and GIFs, participated in the fiction: "Thank you for your service!!!"; "We ALL appreciate your sacrifice!"; "Who among us would NOT give up their hair for no more Trump?". The feeling was real for me, though. It was as though the good news demanded some kind of karmic offering. You never get something for nothing, I thought, and really it was a small price to pay.

The rest of the weekend passed too quickly, with absorption in the novel I plan (madly, given that I also work full-time) to work on for "National Novel Writing Month" (NaNoWriMo), walks in the unseasonably warm woods, and nighttime drinks on the back deck under the stars, watching my hair blow off in fine strands and drift through the sodium porch light. My friend and I read tarot and both our layouts contained The Tower, the card for new beginnings from total annihilation, the moment of destruction in which (as the novel's title says) everything is illuminated. "This might sound dumb," he said, "but maybe yours is about your hair." It did not sound dumb.

[shaved heads, the 2020 election, and a couple pics under the cut]

There is probably no more iconic visual shorthand for cancer than hair loss. It happens because chemo agents target fast-proliferating cells, which tend to inhabit things that grow rapidly by nature (hair, fingernails), or that we need to replenish often (cells in the gut), as well as out-of-control cancer cells. But not all cancer treatments, not even all chemotherapies, cause hair loss. In my 20 months of being treated for cancer and my three previous treatments (four, if you count the surgery I had) nothing had yet affected my hair beyond a bit of thinning. This despite the fact that my first-ever treatment (Taxol) was widely known to cause hair loss for "everyone." I had been fortunate with this particular side effect in a narrow way that I have absolutely not been on a broader scale. "Maybe," I had let myself think, "I can have this one thing." The odds were in my favor too; only 38% of people in clinical trials being treated with Saci lost their hair. I liked the odds of being in the 62% who didn't. But--as we all felt deep in our gut while they counted votes in battleground states--odds aren't everything.

I had come to treat the "strength" of my hair as a kind of relative consolation (though as with everything cancer "strength," "weakness," and the rhetoric of battle have nothing to do with outcomes). I treasured still having it, not just out of vanity (though I have always loved my hair whatever length, style, or color it has been) but because it allowed me to pass among regular people as one of them. I had no visible markers of the illness that is killing me, concealed as first the tumor and then the scars were by my clothing. "You look wonderful," people would tell me, even when I suffered from stress fractures from nothing more than running or sneezing; muscle spasms in my shoulder and nerve death in my fingertips; nausea that I swallowed with swigs from my water bottle that just made me look all the more like a hydration-conscious athlete; and profound, constant, and debilitating fatigue. Invisible illness had its own perils but I would take them--take all of them at once if necessary!--if only I could keep my hair and look normal.

It was not to be. A part of me had known this, since a lifetime with metastatic cancer means a lifetime of treatments a solid proportion of which result in hair loss. But I had hoped. And I had liked the odds.

The hardest thing for me is having to give up this particular consolation before knowing whether or not my new treatment is also working on my cancer. Unfortunately, there really isn't a correlation between side effects like hair loss and effectiveness of treatment. If it is working then I will feel that--like the election to which I felt I had karmically contributed--it was all completely worth it. Yet, even in this best case scenario, there's a new reality for me which is that while I am on this treatment I will stay bald. When you are a chronic patient you hope for a treatment that will work well with manageable side effects. And if this treatment works--and if the other side effects are as ok-ish as they are now--then I will remain on it.

It's that future that I am furious about more than anything else. I want to continue to live my life, of course, but I don't want to have to do it bald! In part that is because I don't want to register to people constantly as an archetypal "cancer patient" when I know that I am so much more. It is also in part because I don't want to think of myself as being ill, and living every day having to disguise my absent hair will make that all the tougher. I have already noticed that I feel, physically, as though I am sicker because of my constantly shedding hair. How could I not, in some ways, when every move I make and every glance at myself (including in endless Zoom windows) shows me this highly visible change?

For that reason, I'm shaving my remaining hair tomorrow (Wednesday). It's a way to feel less disempowered--less like hair loss is happening to me--and wrest control of the situation back. I will try to find agreeable things about it: wigs, scarves, cozy caps, bright lipstick, statement earrings, and a general punk/Mad Max vibe that is appropriate to 2020. But I don't want anyone to think for a second that I find this agreeable, or even acceptable, or that I don't mind. I mind a whole hell of a lot. My hair was my consolation prize, my camouflage, my vanity, my folly, and my battle cry.

I dyed it purple when I was first diagnosed because I knew (or thought I knew) that I would be losing it soon. I didn't, and I came to cherish it as a symbol of my boldness in the face of circumstances trying to oppress me, to make me shrink, to tempt me to become invisible. I refused and used it to "shout" all the louder in response. Because of what it came to mean to me, I'm nearly as sad about losing the purple as I am about losing the hair itself. It both symbolized the weight I was carrying and also that I would not let that weight grind me down. It was my act of resistance and my sign resilience all at once.

I sent a text to my friends, explaining this and offering, as an idea, that I could "pass the purple" to them in some way, small or large. It would feel more like handing off a torch or a weight (or the One Ring) than anyone shaving their head in solidarity. (After all, if they did that it would just remind me as I watched theirs grow back that, in fact, our positions were very different.) You're welcome to do it if you'd like too, internet friends, with temporary or permanent dye or a wig or a headband or one of those terrible 90s hairwraps or whatever. But I don't require that anyone do it because I feel support from you all in myriad ways, all the time. (But if you do, please send me pictures!)

It's November 2020. The election is over and Joe Biden has won. I still have cancer and I'll be bald tomorrow. I hope it's a turning point, both personal and global, because it feels like one. We've given up a lot in the last four years and I cannot say that I feel in any way peaceful or accepting about having to give up yet one more thing. But in losing my hair I absolutely refuse to also give up my hope.

(On our walk we did also seem to find a version of The Tower, all that was left of an abandoned house)

[zims-left-shoe]

Ackkk I love all your works so much I can’t even they're all so goooooood. Uh, I don’t know if this would be dumb but could you do a Zim x an anorexic reader? Like, the reader has it, and zim just kinda thinks it’s normal at first cause he’s adorably clueless sometimes? Sorry for bothering you haha

You’re not bothering me at all! Thank you for the kind words, it really means a lot. I also apologize for any inaccuracies, I did some baseline research, but we all know that pales in comparison to experience. I hope you enjoy this regardless. :)

Zim. He was an interesting one, to be sure. You could barely recall the circumstances under which you two had met, as life with him tended to move at a thousand miles per minute. You wouldn't complain, at times less opportunity to think made things a little bit easier. What you could remember is being new in town, not hoping for much. Your new home defied all of your expectations in the first five minutes as you had the pleasure of witnessing some guy duke it out with a green kid in the school parking lot before school. That night you had discovered them to live in your neighborhood, by happy accident, of course, as the two were fighting, coincidentally, outside your window. You couldn't help but take a peek. In that moment, you had figured out Zim's greatest secret, that he wasn't human. In hindsight, you thought it was obvious from the start, that you shouldn't have needed to see him without his poorly made disguise to realize. Oh well. From that moment forward, you had set out to become his friend. How cool would that be? Friends with a being from beyond the stars. Eventually, he had become tired of trying to shoo you away, and at some point or another, he even asked to be your boyfriend. Something about studying human courtship. You had agreed, because although it was rather embarrassing to admit, you had developed somewhat of a crush on the Irken. 

And here you were. You weren't exactly sure when, but the feelings had become less one sided as the relationship shifted to less of an experiment, and more of a commitment. Zim was actually quite expressive if you knew how to read him, and you had caught on to his attachment. How long had it been, a month? Two? Three? Again, your concept of time had ebbed away while you lived life in the fast lane, always jumping from one scheme to the next, going on a date one minute and setting a trap for Dib another. You didn't mind. It was a nice distraction from yourself. 

"Welcome home, son!" The Roboparents' cheery and, well, robotic voices broke you from your thoughts as they greeted you and your space boyfriend. The parental decoys stepped aside and retreated to their hangars, allowing you to follow Zim inside his home and alien base. You sprawled out across the couch, kicking your feet up on the armrests. You had been to his place so many times that you sometimes thought of it as your home away from home. Pulling out his contact lenses and discarding his wig, Zim joined you on the couch, pushing you out of the way so he could have a place to sit. 

"Hey, I was comfortable." You whined, elbowing him in the side. He doubled over, his strange yet fascinating alien tongue slipping out of his mouth as pain flashed on his face.

"Humans are so bony." He hissed out, clutching his side. You didn't think you had hit him that hard, and figured he was probably just being dramatic. He was the ultimate drama king, after all. 

"Maybe Irken organs are just too soft." A snicker escaped you, and you watched as his antennae flattened against his head, his eyes narrowing.

"Are you insulting my SUPERIOR Irken organs?!" His voice may have been raised, but it wasn't in anger. He was just trying to mess with you, in fact the pain hadn't been severe and had vanished as quickly as it presented itself. 

"Tell me, what would you do if I was?" This type of banter would occur quite often. You were convinced it was how Zim showed affection. After all, it happened between him and Dib frequently as well, and over time, and those two had morphed into frenemies rather than true rivals. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He muttered, crossing his arms and pushing out his bottom lip in a pout. This pulled a chuckle from you, he was such a baby all of the time. 

"Yes, I would. That's why I asked." You pressed him, knowing full well it would result in nothing. Your small talk tended to be teases that went round and round, never resolved, the threats always empty. 

"Well, too bad! Instead I will tell you what ingenious plan I have in store for the Dib-stink!" Just like you thought. He wouldn't even consider some sort of consequence for you, he didn't want to. 

"Oh, do tell." You had heard these plans a billion times, but you never got tired of listening to the endless list of plans to thwart Dib and conquer the human race. You knew they would all go unfulfilled, all of them did. There was a time when his 'mission' was still a priority for him, when he was serious about destroying Dib. But the longer you were in the picture, the less he cared about that. He couldn't feel himself gravitating away from the whole conquering the Earth business, but you sure could.

"As you know, I've been working on this substance in my lab that will-"

"GUESS WHO MADE WAFFLESSSS!!!" The door to the kitchen slammed open, revealing Zim's faithful robot companion, gripping a mixing bowl and stirring it furiously, batter splashing up the sides of the bowl. It was indecipherable if Zim was more irritated about being interrupted or waffle batter spilling all over the carpet. Before he could reprimand GIR for either, the robot began to scream again. "Come eat!" He stood there in his neon green doggy costume, the hood down to expose his robot head. He looked happy enough, his tongue (why he had one you would never know) peeking out from the corner of his mouth.

"No!" Zim waved him off, hoping he would go eat them himself. Unfortunately, that was not what happened. GIR burst into tears, screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. Clutching your ears, you felt your face instinctively scrunch up. Who knew one robot could be so loud? It was a miracle blood wasn't dripping from your ears. Luckily, Zim put an end to your misery. "FINE!! We will eat your waffles! Just, please be quiet!" He spoke through gritted teeth, his own hands grasping desperately at his antennae. 

"Yaaaayy!" As if nothing happened, GIR skipped away, humming to himself as he resumed mixing whatever contents remained in the bowl. A sigh slipped out as you rose from the couch to follow Zim into the kitchen. He was grumbling under his breath the whole time, of course. Taking a seat across from him at the small table, you wondered how often he was forced into doing this. His chin rested in his hand as he stared out through half-lidded eyes. The only way to describe him would be extremely bored. GIR set two plates down, one in front of each of you. He then brought over a tray of waffles, forking a generous stack onto Zim's plate and then moving over to you.

"Oh, uh, no thank you-" You tried to shove his hand away, the smell of the waffles making you sick. Not because they were poorly cooked. In fact, they smelled delicious. GIR paid no mind to your attempts to prevent him from laying several waffles onto your plate, returning to his position at the stove. No words passed between anyone as Zim forked bites of the sweet sustenance into his mouth in an almost monotonous manner. Clenching your lip between your teeth, your eyes became fixed on your own plate as you poked the stack with your fork. Syrup oozed from every place possible, creating an intoxicating and sickly sweet aroma that made your nose twitch. The longer you stared, the tighter your chest became, your toes curling in your shoes. It wasn't that you weren't hungry. Oh, you so were. Despite your body screaming that you were starving, you couldn't bring yourself to eat. Over time, you had managed to tune out your stomach's endless protests, eating as little as possible. 

"They aren't that bad, you know." Zim spoke through bites of waffle, eyeing you. He had been observing your staring contest with the food in front of you for a few moments, under the impression he understood your worries.

"I'm...sure they aren't." You mumbled, grip on your lip tightening as you felt your stomach growl. Shaking your head, you pushed your plate forward and towards the middle of the table. "I'm just not hungry." He nodded, not sensing anything off. He had no reason not to believe you. After all, he had seen you do this many times before. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he had ever seen you eat in front of him.

"Y/n, try some waffles!!" GIR scrambled over to where you sat, taking your fork and some waffle from the plate and moving it towards your face as a parent would do to a baby. You stood up abruptly, pushing GIR back in the process. You had absolutely no desire to be force fed waffles by an alien robot. 

"I forgot! I have some family stuff! I will see you tomorrow." You rushed out of the room, hurriedly grabbing your backpack from the living room and heading out the door, leaving an untouched plate of waffles in the middle of the table. Zim shrugged. Humans were weird.

(More under the cut)

-

Lunch. The worst part of the school day. Apparently humans enjoyed it. The only person who made it enjoyable for me just happened to be stuck in class for lunch, putting some finishing touches on a project or something. 

"Tch." My mouth was fixed in a frown as I approached Dib's table. Ever since spending my lunches with Y/n, it didn't feel right to sit alone. Everything was too quiet. I absolutely do not appreciate how admittedly lonely it feels. I dropped my tray, the sound of it clattering causing Dib to jump. 

"What do you want?" He stared through me, trying to be intimidating. I took a seat, and despite his attitude, he didn't stop me.

"To sit here."

"But why?" I stayed silent, bringing out my real lunch: the Irken lick stick things, which are apparently very similar to a certain human candy. I only took school lunches to look normal. "Oh, I see. Your lover not here?" He cooed, his tone teasing. 

"Shut it." I felt a growl rise in my throat. There was a time when I would refute that phrase; lover. I didn't have the energy for that anymore. "Where's the girl?" I asked, putting one of the sticks in my mouth.

"You mean my sister? Home sick. She's not actually sick, she just didn't want to come to school."

"Hm, fascinating." My words were dismissive, bored of this small talk already. Humans didn't like it either, so why did they partake in it? A silence settled between us as Dib picked up his spoon. I watched as he took a spoonful of the black liquid that passed as lunch and put it in his mouth, swallowing it. I couldn't lie, it intrigued me. Dib and Y/n's habits differed greatly. My current hypothesis was that humans were similar to Irkens, in the fact that they had no real need to eat, they only did it because they wanted to, just like my Tallest. Not eating being normal made the most sense to me, but the more I looked around the cafeteria, a minute amount of doubt settled in. Everyone was eating. Looking back to Dib as he continued to eat, he raised an eyebrow as he caught me staring.

"What?" There was a hint of self-consciousness. Clearly he was not liking how intently I was observing him.

"Why do you eat?" I asked, legitimately curious. He looked to be incredulously, as if he couldn't comprehend my words.

"Because we're not aliens, stupid. We need to in order to survive." He spoke between bites of toxic sludge.

"You do?" The words left my mouth almost immediately, feeling the curiosity only continue to bubble to the surface. Dib only stared at me as if I was utterly clueless. 

After a moment, he had decided that I was completely serious, and not just messing with him like I usually would. "How did you not know this, you've been on earth for how long now?" Folding my hands in front of my face, my eyes narrowed in thought. Things were not adding up. There were so many things about human culture that I clearly did not have a grasp on. To Dib, my lapse in understanding was worse than he thought.

"I just thought you were like Irkens, that you don't need to eat but you choose to."

"Why would you think that?" His words were broken by disbelieving laughter. There still seemed to be a part of him that couldn't believe this. I could tell he thought I was incompetent and horrible at my job. "It is unbelievable that you are an Irken elite." He shook his head, his stupid glasses slipping down his nose. He pushed them up with his fingers, a grin spreading across his face.

"Silence, Dib-thing!" If there weren't more pressing things on my mind, I would have made him suffer for that comment. Instead, I settled for a threatening hiss. "It's just, I've never seen Y/n eat before. They don't eat lunch, and anytime GIR offers them food they refuse."

"Yeah, well, I don't blame them for not wanting to eat this shit. I'm surprised my organs haven't melted yet." A chuckle fell from his stupid mouth. He shoveled in another spoonful, regardless of his words. "And I wouldn't trust GIR's cooking either." Even if all that is true, there was something that was still nagging at me. I couldn't let it go, there was something that just wasn't right with the situation.

"But even on dates...they won't eat. Are you sure this isn't normal?" I was surprised at how concern had crept into my voice. I was no longer confident in my theory, rather asking for confirmation that something was off. I thought it was normal. I know of several thousand races that don't require food, that get it from other things. Us Irkens are supplied them by our PAKs, we only eat for the taste. And there are some, very few, but still some, that don't like the taste of snacks, so they won't eat. They survive just fine, lasting as long as any Irken, hundreds and hundreds of years passing by no problem. Dib's cheeky attitude completely dissipated. The air felt heavy, my skin felt prickly, like bugs were crawling all over my arms and legs. 

"No, Zim. It's not." His voice was soft and quiet, a stark contrast to how he usually spoke to me. Fine. I'll admit it, I can be just a bit clueless when it comes to humans and their customs. But I am not stupid. I understand basic biological principals, I was a military scientist for years. If a living organism doesn't get sufficient nutrients, the only thing to come will be harmful consequences. 

"Oh." After a moment of sitting in silence, my entire body froze. I couldn't believe what I was even feeling. The stupid, filthy human that was only supposed to be a tool, a research-plaything, had turned out to be so much more. 

Irkens aren't supposed to care about anyone... I thought, clenching my fist so hard the joints audibly popped. We were always told in the academy that caring made us weak. That wasn't even the worst part. The scariest thing was that I found myself not wanting to stop caring.

-

You laid on your room floor, hand on your stomach. You couldn't help it. Your eyes drifted to the scale you kept under your bed. You tried to tear your eyes away from it, but you just couldn't. You didn't want to be this way, you knew it was bad, dangerous even. But at the same time, you couldn't grasp that you had a problem. You couldn't stop. You saw the statistics. You didn't want to become just another number, but you couldn't reach out. How could you? Just to have someone call you an attention whore? No thank you. You would rather suffer in silence, lying to everyone including yourself. Did you eat today? Of course! A smile on your face for others always, that grin fading every time you glanced in the mirror. Your eyes were like a funhouse mirror, constantly seeing yourself different than the reality. 

The only thing that seemed to brighten your day was Zim. He was a healthy distraction, and he never made you feel bad about yourself, surprisingly. He never chided you for looking too skinny, for not eating. You needed a push in the right direction, but you needed to be encouraged to get better, not harrassed into it. You needed to feel as if you had support, rather than pressure. 

The doorbell yanked you out of your mental spiral, but it did nothing for your anxiety. You were home alone, so you continued to lay there, hoping whoever it was would go away. However, that was not the case. After a few moments of silence, the doorbell was rung repeatedly, a constant stream of annoyance that flooded your ears. Muttering curses, you marched your way to the front door, opening it to reveal Zim standing there, uncharacteristically quiet. Immediately your mind went blank. Did you have plans that day? You didn't think so. If that was the case, then why was he on your front porch?

"Hello, human. May I come in?" You would have laughed if you were in the headspace for it. The scene before you was ridiculous, after all. Zim being polite? Couldn't be possible. And yet, he stood there on the step, clawed hands folded neatly in front of him, waiting patiently for your response, a cute and dopey expression lingering on his face. Now you were very concerned. You were even a bit worried that he had done something to his brain in his lab, that some sort of experiment may have gone horribly wrong. It wasn't that you hated nice and calm Zim, it was just...not right.

"Sure, I guess..." You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him and leading him to your room. He had been there once or twice, but mostly, you both spent time at his place or around town, usually harassing Dib. You sunk down to the floor, Zim following suit. You weren't really in the mood to see him, or anyone at the moment, but you had suspected that, despite the well-mannered act, he would have let himself in regardless. Zim glanced around your room, and you couldn't help but dig your nails into the scratchy carpet. You just felt vulnerable. Deciding to ditch the discomfort, you made an effort at small talk. "So, anything interesting happen at lunch today?" You had already guessed that he would have gone to sit with Dib, you've seen how he despises being alone. Even though he claims to be this independent invader, you've found him to be actually quite needy when it comes to attention. 

"Why don't you eat?" Zim cut right to the chase, completely brushing off your own question. His voice was sugary sweet and innocent, and you knew his intentions were pure. His usual grating and over-excitable tone was missing. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his query. He sat across from you, staring expectantly, waiting for an answer. He didn't seem to understand why that question was so difficult for you to answer. You didn't think you could answer. And so you both sat in silence, uncomfortably staring. Your eyes were fixed on the carpet, his on you. 

As he stared, he began to notice something for the first time. You were much thinner than your classmates. He had never noticed before, because he was the same way, it was something that was normal to him, but that was due to him being an Irken. Most Irkens were naturally built that way. 

"Zim…" You had finally spoken, mouth feeling drier than the desert. Your gaze was still locked on your floor, studying every minute speck of dust and dirt. You absolutely refused to look at him as you toyed with your fingers, nervously debating on how to respond, if you should respond. You thought he would never catch on, because nothing about your behavior seemed to have bothered him. It was all habits he was used to back on Irk. He didn't know any better, he had always been inept at grasping human normalcy. You were embarrassed that he had to see you like this, struggling so hard, unable to call for help.

For once in his life, Zim seemed to understand the nuances of a human. He'd seen that look before, it was all over his home planet. Irkens who felt as if they were completely disgusting when compared to others. It finally clicked for him. He understood that you hated your body. It was a concept he could grasp. Irkens had something similar. For them, the insecurities lie in height. For humans, it seemed, it was their weight. He may not know much about humans, but what he did know is that it didn't sit right with him to watch you go through what you were without anyone by your side. Irkens never considered the concept of comfort. Emotions were always a confusing subject to any Irken, especially Zim, who often wasn't concerned with how his actions affected others. In spite of all that, he found himself itching to give it ago. Watching you sit there and torture yourself made him feel as if he was losing his mind.

"Human. Listen to Zim. This probably won't mean much, but..." Zim reached out to you, pulling you into a hug, his arms wrapped around you protectively, as if trying to defend you from whatever threat you were faced with. You were once again shocked. Zim never liked to be too touchy feely. And in the rare occasions he wished for it, he would never initiate it. Zim, however, knew from his observations that sometimes physical affection made humans feel safe and loved. Thus, he figured he would give it a shot. "It doesn't matter what the outside looks like. It's all flesh and bone, completely uninteresting. The real intrigue is what's in here." He lightly pressed a claw into your chest and then to your forehead, hoping you got what he was trying to say. You couldn't help but melt at his uncharacteristic softness. You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, knowing that there would more likely than not be more to follow. 

"I..." Your voice was too shaky, so you trailed off, leaning into Zim's continued embrace. 

"Zim wants to assist in anyway he can." Both of you guessed that would be tough, but you were happy nonetheless that he seemed to genuinely care for your wellbeing. You figured that if he had known this wasn't normal human behavior, he would have instigated this talk a long time ago.

After a few more moments of staying silent, you thought you were collected enough to speak. Since Zim was being the most open you had ever witnessed in your time with him, you opted to be as well. "I love you, Zim." Immediately you felt his entire body tense around you, your face buried in his shoulder, just in case you would cry again. Zim was thankful for this, or you would have seen the way warmth flooded his face.

At first, he didn't know what to say. Love was never a thing on Irk. How could it be, when everyone was encoded with programming? There had been rumors of this fatal attraction, sure. But it had been widely decided on that anyone who felt this useless emotion was a defective. Besides, love would never benefit a militarian empire. Because of the stigma, love was never a word that was tossed around lightly on Irk, if at all. Just another thing to add onto the ever growing list of everything that made Zim a 'defective'.

"I...love you too, human."

[cinnaminsvga]

the walls have ears | Taehyung

→ summary: in hindsight, taehyung probably shouldn’t have told the paintings about his debilitating crush on you after he had (unknowingly) drunk some magically spiked pumpkin juice. after all, paintings don’t really have all that much going on, except getting excited over the occasional gossip or two. and well... news always travels fast when there’s magic involved.

{based on a prompt by @/alloftheprompts: “Character A tells a painting about their crush on Character B. The portrait spills their secret.”}

→ genre: hogwarts!au, fluff, humor → words: 5.6K → a/n: this is for the lovely @merriblazi who donated a couple ko-fis to fund my grocery bills lmao thank you so much!! also, i’m still accepting ko-fi comms until the end of august, so if you’d like something like this as well, feel free to drop a few ko-fis down my drain!! i’d love to write you all something!! (new banner was made by @jincherie​ ty girl ily)

The paintings at Hogwarts are all in high spirits today.

Taehyung notices this when he exits the Gryffindor common room, immediately being greeted by the Fat Lady’s cackles of excitement. He jumps up in surprise at her ear-splitting squeals, nearly knocking over a poor first-year student behind him. He shouts out an apology at the kid, but she has already scuttled off, spooked by the loud portrait. Honestly, Taehyung isn’t any better himself, turning back around to stare wide-eyed as the Fat Lady continues to point and giggle at him with her mouth stretched into a smirk.

Taehyung hazards a greeting. “Um, good morning?”

“Good morning indeed,” she singsongs, procuring a fan out of the many folds of her dress (from where exactly she had it stored, he tries not to think too deeply about). “Mister Kim, I’m sure you had quite an interesting evening the day before, did you not?”

Taehyung freezes immediately, his blood running cold at her words. Being a known prankster and rapscallion, Taehyung has grown to learn the importance of running at the first sign of trouble, despite how cowardly that might seem for a Gryffindor. The best way to continue having the pleasure of wreaking havoc is to choose your battles wisely, which is just a nice way of saying that he needs to scram before the authorities can catch him. He had learned all of this from the best, seeing as how his best friend happens to be a Slytherin.

He tries to think of what he had done the other night, but he comes up blank. He remembers being busy the entire afternoon trying to ask you on a date for the fourteenth time this month,  only to no avail (as always). While others had already been deterred by intimidation alone, Taehyung remains hopeful that he will get the guts to talk to you eventually. After all, his mommy says he’s a handsome and charming boy who can sweep any girl off their feet, and his mommy has never lied to him before.

At least, that’s what he’s been telling himself these past few years of silently pining over you, but he digresses.

“I… I had an interesting evening?” Taehyung repeats quizzically, becoming more bewildered by the second. Due to the Fat Lady’s commotion, it seems to have caused a stir among the rest of the paintings, all of the nearby portraits peering over their frames to catch a good look at him. Taehyung can even see some of the more lethargic portraits waking up long enough to direct attentive gazes at him.

“Why of course!” The Fat Lady positively screams, clasping her hands together with a loud clap. “The castle is abuzz with excitement over your daring confession last night! Why, I could hardly contain my excitement for when you would awaken.” She flicks away her fan over her shoulder, accidentally hitting her neighboring portrait in the face. She scarely blinks at her neighbor’s barks of irritation.

Oh, jeez. It’s the crotchety portrait that everyone disliked. This isn’t good; no one could ever get the old fart to shut up once you got him going, and Taehyung knows better than anyone else how easy it is to get a rise out of him. After all, it was his favorite pastime.

“Watch where you flap those arms of yours, woman!” He shouts, bulbous features turning purple in mere seconds. The Scholar, or as Taehyung likes to call the Squalor, takes one of his many books from his desk, ready to hurl back at her.

Before he can even think of pulling back his shoulder, a stampede of finely dressed ladies comes rushing in out of nowhere, quickly subduing them by sheer number alone. There is a loud squabble as the ladies all corner him like a murder of multi-colored crows. At a closer glance, Taehyung recognizes them from one of the large paintings near the entrance to the Great Hall.

That was floors away. How had they rushed over so quickly? And for what reason?

“Oh hush, you simpering nerd!” One of the ladies snaps, grabbing the Fat Lady’s fallen fan and slapping the man in the face once more. The scholar sputters, at a loss for words for once in his life. Taehyung thanks the ladies internally, having always wanted to disfigure the bastard’s face ever since he called his yellow sunglasses unfashionable. What the hell did someone who died during the plague know anything about fashion?

“We came as soon as we heard, Lady Fat! Now, where is the boy that everyone’s been gossiping about – oh, my word!” Taehyung assumes it is the leader of the pack who gasps in surprise, her well-manicured finger outstretched as she waggles it at him. He can tell she’s the leader by the ostentatious crown on her head, complete with glittering jewels that he could scarcely tell the names of.

The Fat Lady moves to the side, allowing the women to enter her space until almost the entirety of her canvas was filled with nothing but powdered wigs and poofy skirts. Taehyung can hardly see her crown of vines with how many people were surrounding her.

Her voice sounds muffled when she replies, “For the hundredth time, my name is the Fat Lady, not Lady Fat. And yes Martha, it is him! His name is Taehyung, the one I’m certain who had spoken to Raphael the other night.”

Wait. Taehyung’s mouth drops, taken aback. This is certainly news to him! When had he spoken to Raphael? Who the hell was Raphael, even? Why did everyone seem to know more about his nightly activities than he did?

He doesn’t get to ask, however, as the ladies immediately begin to bombard him with a barrage of comments ranging from excitement to disappointment, no holds barred.

“Oh, it’s the cute Gryffindor boy with the long eyelashes! They would make a lovely couple indeed! I wonder if Raphael has already passed the message to her–”

“He’s the one? Surely not! I was hoping it was the cat-eyed boy with black hair instead. Wouldn’t he be a better match for her?”

“You must be crazy, Marie! This boy is clearly meant for her. My mother was a seer, and I can tell from a mile away that those two are meant to be soulmates–”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Taehyung cries out, anxious from all the chatter coming from all directions at once. He can feel the panic bubbling up, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He doesn’t even know where to start with all this! “Can everyone shut up for a second!”

Miraculously, all the portraits clam up at his request, still gazing upon him like he holds all the secrets to the world. Which, much to everyone’s disappointment, he does not.

The sudden disquiet unnerves him slightly, causing him to stutter in his speech. He swallows thickly, voice meek. “I-I… I’m a bit confused about all this. Can someone explain what everyone’s talking about? I just wanted to head down and get some breakfast.”

It feels like a hundred painted faces are staring back at him, and when Taehyung casts a furtive glance behind him, he sees that even the paintings from two staircases up are watching with rapt attention. Why was everyone so interested in him, all of a sudden? Not even his infamous dungbomb toilet prank got him this much notoriety. When he turns back to face the ladies, they all seem to be just as shocked as he is.

Lady Martha steps forward until she is almost taking up the entirety of the canvas, squinting at him dubiously. Her previously excited demeanor has soured greatly at his words. She tilts her head towards him, unimpressed. “Well? Are you not the boy with the crush on Lady Y/N? Have we sprinted across the entire castle just to find that the culprit of last night’s latest gossip had all been just another prank?”

“N-no, I – Wait. Did you just say–” Taehyung stops in the middle of his sentence to gape back at her, his ears feeling hot as his blood quickly races up to his face. “Did you just say ‘the boy with the crush on Y/N?’” He hisses the last part in a strangled whisper, snapping his head side to side to make sure no one else had heard. He is relieved to find that the only other people nearby do not seem to have heard their exchange, but he still waves his hands frantically to get all the portraits to lower their volume.

She raises her eyebrow at him, hip cocked to the side. “Yes? Had I misspoken? Had Raphael been lying to all of us once again?” She scoffs in exasperation, though it does not seem to be aimed at him. The rest of the ladies seem annoyed at this Raphael as well. “That’s just like him, too! We shouldn’t have trusted him again. That angel never did know how to shut his trap.”

The ladies make muted harrumphs of discontent, noses upturned in the air. Taehyung watches as a few of them begin to make their way back to their own canvas, but he needs to ask them one last thing before they leave. While he doesn’t remember ever speaking to a painting named Raphael, he still does not know how he had found about his crush on you in the first place.

He doesn’t know what he would do if you were to ever find out, even if it was just a rumor for now. This is not how he imagined he would finally tell you about his feelings; everything feels like a nightmare. He can already feel the apples of his tanned cheeks beginning to burn in embarrassment. 

“Hold on, did you say an angel named Raphael said all of that stuff?” Taehyung asks hesitantly, sweat building up on the back of his neck. He can vaguely remember a fresco of some angels near the kitchens, but he isn’t quite sure. He never goes there unless he wants to snag some treats from the house elves, but he has started relying on Seokjin to do the food hauls for him these days. Never mind the fact that he had already gotten caught in the act thrice by you – ever the attentive prefect.

Oh, how he hated how much he loved you, despite the stick up your ass. That being said, no one was supposed to even know that he liked you, much less the entire painting population of Hogwarts. Not even Jimin knew, and that was saying something! How did this Raphael fellow find out when he had kept this secret deep inside his heart since the first day he had laid his eyes on you? How had he figured him out, unless Taehyung had been the one to tell him–

“Yes, the archangel Raphael near the kitchens.” Lady Martha nods, her sneer disfiguring her delicate features. “He said that a drunken boy with long lashes and dark brown hair had confessed his undying feelings for the rigid Lady Y/N the other night. Oh, how excited we were to hear the news!” Martha holds a hand to her chest, sighing dramatically. The remaining ladies chorus their sighs as well, one of them even fainting from grief.

The Fat Lady cranes her neck upwards, trying her best to speak above the fallen, wailing ladies. “Yes, quite. What a shame! When I heard from Lady Martha, who had heard from Lord Michael, who had heard from Sire Nicholas, who had heard from Professor Bang–”

“Wait, Professor Bang?” Taehyung mutters in disbelief, scarcely heard over the racket.

“–who had heard from Archangel Raphael that a boy with long eyelashes had been going on and on about his crush on a female prefect, I just knew it had to be you! Then, the Ladies of Commère discovered that the prefect was Miss Y/N, well… It was like a dream come true! We had all been hoping for her to find her prince sooner or later.”

“Her prince? What for?” Taehyung is kind of afraid to dive deeper into this mess, though he is too curious to let it slide. It isn’t like you’re short on suitors, despite how intimidating and uptight you are. It is part of the reason why he’s too shy to approach you in the first place, with how large his competition pool is.

“Well… She had been complaining to me during her nightly rounds about how lonely she has been feeling, ever since her best friend had started dating that oaf with a quaffle for a brain,” Lady Martha tuts, shaking her head pityingly.

Taehyung is familiar with that “oaf,” otherwise known as the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He admits that Jungkook isn’t the brightest boy, but he is a wickedly good player. Plus, Taehyung thinks he’s funny, especially after that incident when he had tried to snort pumpkin juice on a dare and consequently sprayed the entire wall with a myriad of fluids. (You had deducted points out of your own house for that, much to everyone else’s chagrin.)

Lady Martha continues, “She may seem like an independent woman, but I suppose all of us tend to get lonely during the night. And all the paintings love a good romance every once in a while, so we couldn’t help ourselves from jumping the gun a bit…”

Taehyung feels the dread begin to pile up like bricks in the pit of his stomach, reminding him of the time when he had eaten too much cauldron cakes in one go. He needs to go see Raphael as soon as possible and get to the bottom of this. He doesn’t remember speaking to him at all, which is what makes Taehyung the antsiest. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t quite remember what he did after dinner last night.

Somehow between now and then, he had managed to go to bed despite not knowing how or when. Taehyung had woken up this morning with a minor throbbing in the back of his head, but it was nothing to write home about.

At least that was what he thought. He was starting to second guess everything now.

He bows to the paintings, belatedly feeling a little odd for showing respect to inanimate objects. Regardless, the ladies appear to be delighted by his involuntary action, all of them cooing at his manners and wishing him a good breakfast as he scampers off towards the Great Hall.

When he arrives, the tables are still largely empty with how early he had risen, a rare occurrence in Taehyung’s everyday life. He doesn’t think he’s ever arrived to breakfast this early, but he blames the small headache from earlier that prematurely roused him from his slumber. Strange, he thinks as he trudges to his usual place, waiting for the rest of his friends and housemates to arrive. Everything about today has been nothing but a fever dream come to life.

As he spoons a large portion of porridge and fried sausages onto his plate (still piping hot and crisp, which is another weird and new prospect to Taehyung since the food was always a bit mushy by the time he turns up for breakfast), he replays the conversation with the Ladies of Commère.

Other than Raphael, there appear to be no other leads as to who might have found out about his secret admiration for you. The Fat Lady describes a boy with long lashes and brown hair to be the one who had conversed with him, which definitely seems to indicate it was Taehyung himself who had snitched.

An utterly preposterous thought. There is no way that he would ever admit that to some random passerby, certainly not while sober.  

Taehyung pauses, spoon midway towards his open mouth. Bits of porridge drip over his lap as the sudden terrorizing thought flits through his mind. Had he been sober last night?

The ladies said the boy had been drunk when he had confessed. Taehyung didn’t drink alcohol, averse to the bitter taste. So how could he have..?

Taehyung rubs his temples frantically, his heart beating out of his chest as he tries again to remember what he had done right after dinner the previous evening. No matter how hard he racked his brain for information, he comes up blank every time.

Even if he had been drunk, do people really lose all their memories from just a sip or two? The only way he could have gotten drunk is if he had consumed it unknowingly, meaning someone must have spiked his food the other night. But who could have done such a thing?

The loud thud of a body barrelling right into the table forces Taehyung out of his reverie, nearly dislodging his head off his neck in the process. He yelps in surprise, before glaring at the new smiley intruder beside him.

The Slytherin grins cherubically, having the audacity to wink salaciously at him. “Good morning, Taehyungie! Surprised to see you up so early,” Jimin says, seating himself on the Gryffindor bench like he belongs there. With how often he visits his table, it’s easy for people to mistake him as his housemate. Even you and the rest of the prefects have stopped trying to get him to leave after their fifth year.

Taehyung groans. “It’s been a rough morning.”

“I can tell. You aren’t even eating any of the bacon,” Jimin whistles in surprise, casually heaping his own (stolen) plate. He gives Taehyung a proper once-over. “You feeling alright? You look kind of pale.”

“It’s…” Taehyung wavers, not sure what to reveal. He still doesn’t feel comfortable telling Jimin about his crush, but he thinks that if the entire population of Hogwarts might soon find out anyway, then his best friend might as well find out from the source himself. But first…

“Did you spike my dinner last night?”

“What?” Jimin laughs, but stops when he notices Taehyung’s serious expression. “Oh. You’re serious. Did you eat something funny yesterday?”

“I don’t remember eating anything weird except for the lamb chops and chicken and mashed potatoes and…” Taehyung trails off, realizing how much he eats during a meal. He looks down at his already half-devoured plate of what was once ten whole sausages before sighing dejectedly.

“It could have been anything, huh?” Jimin hums, rubbing his chin. “That’s weird though, because I don’t think I ate anything weird yesterday, and we ate pretty much the same stuff.”

“That’s the thing! I only realized my food might have been spiked this morning,” Taehyung grumbles. He pauses for a second, steeling himself before he spills his guts all over the shiny mahogany dining table. He breathes deeply, causing Jimin to watch him curiously from his right. Well, it’s now or never.

“What made you realize?” Jimin asks.

“You see, funny story…” Taehyung says, not at all amused by the tale he was about to tell. “This morning, I was assaulted by the Fat Lady and the Ladies of Commère. You know, the hoity-toity ladies near the entrance of the Great Hall? Anyway, they said something that made me rethink my entire existence and that maybe my memories aren’t as reliable as I thought.”

“What the hell are you even saying?” Jimin huffs, wagging his fork in his face. “Stop beating around the bush and say what you wanna say! What does this have to do with spiked food?”

“Basically… The ladies said I told one of the portraits about my crush on this certain someone, but the thing is, I would NEVER tell anyone about my crush on that someone, so the only way they could have known about my crush on that someone is if I had told them, but the thing is, I–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jimin interrupts Taehyung’s rambling, barely trying to suppress his giggles as he appraises his panicking friend. “You told a portrait about your crush on Y/N? When did this happen?”

Taehyung makes a startled sound, practically screeching in horror at Jimin’s nonchalant declaration. He had said it in a way like it was a simple truth, like how the sky is blue and how feet are sexy.

“You knew?!”

“Dude, everyone knows.” Jimin hums, nodding his head sagely. He snags one of the sausages off of Taehyung’s plate, even though he could have gotten a fresh one from the many other platters instead. He chews as he says, “Well admittedly, I’ve always known. Everyone else only just found out this morning as we entered the Great Hall. The hoity-toity ladies at the entrance were telling anyone who’d listen.”

“The ladies were–?” Taehyung stammers, mouth moving too quickly for his brain to catch up. “But I told them it wasn’t me!”

“Well, too late for that now,” Jimin shrugs, taking another one of Taehyung’s sausages. At this point, he was only doing it to make Taehyung’s day worse. “Apparently, Raphael the Archangel swore that it was you who had confessed about your crush on Y/N, and angels don’t just go around swearing, you know? Not that I know anything about Muggle religion, but also–”

“Oh Merlin, I think I’m going to be sick,” Taehyung says, slamming his head into his plate with the remaining three sausages. Jimin whines, lamenting the fate of his fallen riches.

“My sausages!”

“My love life!” Taehyung cries out, lifting his head and letting the greasy remains of his breakfast drip down his forehead.

Jimin is the first to recover from their respective meltdowns, using a finger to wipe some of the oil from his friend’s face and licking it with relish. “Damn, I love sausages. So, as I was saying… Why did you go and tell that portrait about your crush? Is that why you think you got spiked last night?”

Taehyung chokes out a sob, signaling his agreement.

“Oh shit, what if someone slipped Veritaserum in your pumpkin juice? But who?” Jimin wonders aloud, but it’s hard to narrow it down to just about anyone. Taehyung is pretty likable even amongst the most prickly students, so it will be difficult to pinpoint anyone who might have some personal vendetta against him. Then again, there are a couple of pranksters who come to mind…

“It doesn’t even matter who did it at this point. Y/N is going to come through those doors any moment and she’s just gonna know that I’m a fucking loser who spills his deepest infatuations to some random painting that I don’t even remember speaking to!”

“That is pretty lame,” Jimin says, not the least bit sympathetic. In his honest opinion, he feels like he should be thankful to whoever spiked his friend’s drink last night. Pining never did look good on Taehyung, despite all his natural handsomeness. If he had to catch him staring at you with that lovestruck look again, Jimin might as well have snitched sooner or later.

“Do you think I have time to go stop them from announcing to the world that I’m a loser with a huge boner for Y/N?” Taehyung is already rising to his feet, wiping the remaining grease from his skin as best as he can. He only smears it around some more, giving himself a blinding sheen. Somehow, he makes it work.

Jimin looks to his watch. “She usually comes in around five minutes before 8 AM, so maybe you’ll have some time before–”

He has spoken too soon. Lo and behold, you enter the hall with loud, purposeful strides, the entirety of your neck to your forehead flushed an endearing shade of red. You look absolutely mortified. Taehyung can say that he’s feeling the same, if not worse.

You pass by Taehyung in a blur, your gaze twitching towards him for a slight second before you are back to walking straight ahead with your head bowed slightly. Your best friend and Jungkook enter the hall soon after, both of whom were giggling raucously in your wake. The three of you slide into your usual seats a few spaces away from him, your eyes trained so fiercely onto your eggs that Taehyung is afraid that they might burst into flames.

Jimin looks from you to Taehyung, a smirk on his face. “You think she heard?”

The day continues onwards, filled with lots of staring and whispering. Taehyung can’t go from class to class without at least one person slapping him on the back in solidarity or others glaring at him out of contempt and jealousy. Either way, Taehyung isn’t sure whether he likes this type of attention or not.

Being hooted and cursed at for pulling off a fantastic joke? That, he could live with. Being the center of an ongoing cheesy romantic drama? This type of situation is a new world entirely.

The entire day is a whirlwind as he goes from class to class, not even getting to sneak off once to go and search for the ever elusive Raphael. Every time he tries to even look the other direction, his professors seem to be a step ahead of him, snapping at him to stay focused. Judging by the knowing smirks on their lips, they must have heard about the news as well, except they must be under the impression that he was trying to get away and search for you.

Oh, how wrong they are. He doesn’t even know what he would say if he saw you right now.

Luckily (or unluckily) for him, he doesn’t see you that often for the remainder of the day, except for one occasion when he passes you on the way to Potions. You aren’t with your best friend for once, but your eyes are still trained to the floor like they were this morning. Your usual pristine posture is gone, replaced by this timid girl who jumps up in surprise at the slightest bit of chatter. You don’t even scold a second-year for loosening his tie, and that honestly worried Taehyung more than anything else.

Were you embarrassed by him? He isn’t all that surprised that his affections were left unreciprocated – he’s long since accepted that his feelings will always remain one-sided. After all, with how often you like to reprimand him, you must only think of him as some loser seeking attention. In fact, he only ever plans his pranks so that you might be the one to catch him, like some misbehaving child who longs for the love of his absent parents.

Not that he thinks you’re like a mom to him, but then again… You’d be a great mom, but only if he gets to be the dad.

Wow. That went waaaay out of bounds than he was originally going for, but he digresses.

Still, he is a little hurt being ignored by you. Could he at least hope for a proper rejection? Just so he doesn’t have to keep having to speculating his whole life and wondering about what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Oh, how he loathes what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. They are worse than losing an entire femur, in his opinion (and yes, he has lost a femur once. Luckily, they found it in the women’s bathroom, for some reason.)

He can’t blame you entirely though, since it must be hard on your part as well. He doesn’t ever remember seeing you this flustered in, well… Ever.

The afternoon winds down and classes end as quickly as they come. Dinner arrives once more, and Taehyung has more presence of mind to check what he eats before they even touch his lips. For safety reasons, he feeds his portions to Jimin first, just so if he gets spiked with truth serum again, at least the two of them could be idiots together.

He allows Jimin to lead most of the conversation, still not really feeling like everything’s fine despite his friend’s best attempts at lightening the mood. He did just get his heartbroken for the first time, after all. He’s surprised he hasn’t started bawling his eyes out in front of the entire school yet.

Just a few more minutes and I can cry all I want in the safety of my bedroom, Taehyung thinks to himself, feeling even shittier about how excited he is to spend the entire evening soaking his pillow with tears. It’s fine. He’ll be fine.

He is in the process of feeding a spoonful of peas into Jimin’s open mouth when he feels a soft tap on his shoulder, breaking him from his trance. He is in the process of telling the person that he’s not in the mood, but the words die in his throat the moment he turns and discovers the identity of the sudden visitor.

It’s you.

It’s you, with your hands wringing the edges of your sweater and the most endearingly rosy tint on your soft cheeks. He feels his heart start pounding automatically, just as it always has whenever he’s near you. He thinks the whole school has stopped talking with how silent the Great Hall has become, everyone itching to try and listen to your exchange.

Perhaps you had anticipated this type of scenario and didn’t want anyone to overhear, which is why you have already prepared a note beforehand, inked with your signature neat scrawl. You slip the small piece of parchment into his palm, folding his fingers over it gently. You bow your head awkwardly, reminding Taehyung of his similar gesture from earlier. You scurry away back to your seat, hands cupping your cheeks to cool yourself down.

Taehyung can’t see himself right now, but he thinks he might be even redder than you are, if that is even possible. Jimin, like the nosey bastard that he is, rips the note out of his hand and reads it before he can even process the last five minutes, guffawing loudly at what he finds.

“Guess you got a date later at the Astronomy Tower,” he says, shaking Taehyung’s hand in mock congratulations.

Well, at least he’ll have the stars to look at when he inevitably gets his heart crushed for real this time.

He doesn’t get his heart crushed. At least, not immediately. In fact, he thinks he might be on cloud nine right now as he sees you waiting for him, a small smile on your lips.

“Taehyung, I… really didn’t expect this from you. At all.” You start speaking the moment you hear him reach the top of the stairs, still slightly out of breath from the climb up. He rushes over to you immediately, letting the breeze cool his sweaty face.

“You didn’t… expect it?”

“Well, I mean! You’re always so…” You trail off, your mouth doing this weird thing where you look like you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“A fucking little bastard?” Taehyung laughs when he sees you start to backtrack, stammering all the while.

“N-no! Well, you sorta are… But in the cutest way… possible?” You say the last part like a question, almost helplessly. You wave your hands wildly, adorable despite being frustrated. “I mean! It’s like! I scold you, but it’s my job, you know? But it’s not because I want to do it? Do you get what I mean? Ugh, I’m so awkward I hate this!”

“You think… I’m cute?” Taehyung lets himself smile a little, and it seems to make you even more flustered.

“Have you not seen yourself? Of course you are! I can’t believe that you even have a crush on me–” You stop yourself, slapping a hand to your mouth in horror. “I-I… I know it’s just a rumor and everything, and I don’t want to assume there’s any basis because oh my Merlin I’m never the type to listen to gossip and I don’t want you to think that I’m sort of–”

“What if it isn’t a rumor, though?” Taehyung has never felt this emboldened in his life, toeing the line of danger so closely that he can feel the electricity rush through his veins.

On the otherhand, you look completely baffled, as if the thought never crossed your mind before this moment. “What do you mean? Are you saying that…”

“That I like you, for real? Maybe I am,” Taehyung says, feeling cheekier the more he talks. It might just be the night sky or the wind against his cheeks, or maybe it’s the way your eyes are reflecting the stars like a mirror, but he feels like there is magic in the air. It’s cheesy, it’s cliché, but it’s everything he imagined it would be like.

He’s spent many daydreams thinking about this, and he isn’t going to let his fear pull him under. Not now, not when he can feel the string pulling the two of you together tighten with every second.

“If the rumors were true, what would you say?” Taehyung whispers, lacing his fingers through yours. Your hands shake imperceptibly, but your stare is as stagnant as the affection he feels for you. What he has always felt for you.

When you respond, Taehyung swears the whole world could hear his heart fluttering for you.  

.

.

.

Somewhere in the Slytherin dungeons, Jimin is smiling to himself in the comfort of his own bed, turning in early for the night. It truly had been a good investment to secretly start dating a seventh-year potions prodigy over the summer. What is even better is that the Potions professor never did remember to lock his Veritaserum ingredients with nothing more than a simple deadbolt.

He snuggles himself deeper into his pillow, snickering softly. Good job, Yoongi. 

All is fucking well. 

[k-writer1998]

Rebel Hours (5/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter… at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Fluff

w.c: 2k

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

“I haven’t answered him much but I’m still technically texting him… you probably guessed I planned on ghosting him.”

“And why are you ghosting him when you like him? Anyone with eyes can see you two like each other.”

"You know why…”

“Hun how will you ever fall in love if you’re always so scared of your parents not approving?”

“Whether they approve or not doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to get into a relationship that is doomed from the start. I tried it once with Minhyuk and that hurt for months, but Chan would be worse. I am so whipped for this boy that any choice is going to destroy me.”

      I buried my face in my hands with a sigh. I hated admitting it because of how real it made everything sound, like I couldn’t hide from it anymore. Within the month we spent together I have completely fallen for that boy, hard, and it’s different from Minhyuk. Maybe because I’m older now or maybe I didn’t love Minhyuk as much as I thought but this heartbreak hurts far more than it did back in high school. 

"Then you need to stop running from it and face the problem. Don’t miss out on life just because your parents might stir trouble. Why don’t you confront your parents? You know that’s a conversation we’ve had before."

      That’s what it was. With Chan I want things to work out even if that means I have to stand up to my parents. I wanted to make them understand and fight for this feeling. There was also a fire in my heart that wasn’t there before and I tried to ignore it but maybe I needed to listen to it. That’s why running away this past week, like I did in high school, wasn’t working. 

“I think it’s finally time I do. I wish I wanted to do it for myself you know? It's just kinda irritating that it took me wanting a boy for me to finally take initiative.”

“The boy isn’t the reason you’re doing this, just a catalyst. Jieun you have come up with a hundred excuses as to why you couldn’t stand up to your parents, that's why everything was done in secret so far. It's time for you to be you and for your parents to stop controlling you, you have a whole second wardrobe for heaven’s sake,” she threw her hands wildly at the end to ease the growing heaviness in the air.

“You’re right. What would I ever do without you?” I chuckled softly.

“Apparently nothing,” she laughed before asking, “So what’s your game plan and what are you gonna do with Chan? I would like for you to still get your guy at the end of the day.”

“I don’t know when to tell my parents but before that I do want to clear up things with Minhyuk. I always regretted not telling him why we broke up.”

“Then do it if that’s what you need to do to be able to face your parents.”

       She had moved from the desk to sitting next to me on my bed, god bless that she was no longer mad at me. We sat and talked about everything that we missed like my dates with Chan, or that fact that she got herself a British boyfriend which I teased her relentlessly for for a bit before I remembered something.

“Are you and Seungmin coming to Changbin’s party? I received an invite and well you know how my parents are about attending their friends’ kids events.”

“I can’t, my mom is having me go with her out to Busan to visit my aunt who just had a baby. I need to go cause my mom doesn’t like her cousin that much.”

      Once Seunghee went home, I pulled out my phone and opened the messenger, I hesitated over Chan’s chats for a moment before I snapped myself out of it and opened my group chat with Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Jeongin. I quickly sent a text asking who wanted to come with me before I realized something. There was a strong chance that Chan would be there… okay now I NEED one of them would come through or I’m going to freak myself out. Jeongin had to play it safe since he almost got caught the last time he went out. Seungmin luckily said he would go and Hyunjin happily agreed to the notion of free food. Knowing two of the three could make it, I finally turned out the lights and tried to sleep. 

      The next day wasn’t as hectic as the previous ones and in the late afternoon I was excused from the rest of my parents’ plans so I could attend Changbin’s party. I got dressed in a black cold-shoulder long sleeve top with a maroon skater skirt that went down to my knees. Not my ideal outfit but at least I felt a little more like myself with this top, thank god for loopholes with mother. I touched up my make-up and slipped on a pair of black wedges before I went to my car. As I walked to the entrance of the venue, I checked my phone to see if Seungmin and Hyunjin arrived but they didn't. Weaving through the crowd and sticking to the sidelines, I scanned the crowd to find Changbin because I’ll need to greet the birthday boy at some point tonight. I continued to watch the door anxiously waiting for my friends to come until I felt a tap on my shoulder causing me to jump slightly. I turned and visibly relaxed at their faces.

“How did I not catch you guys coming in?”

“You were probably too busy being paranoid over lover boy,” Hyunjin teased.

“Oh shut up, but thank you for coming to do whatever it is you’re doing because supporting me is not one of them,” I cut back.

      We bantered a bit more before Seungmin cut us off. I rolled my eyes as I watched Hyunjin pick up a large amount of food at the refreshment table and cleanly ate it as if it was nothing. Hyunjin laughed at my birdfeed amount of food, the result of all those etiquette classes mother had me take, and I punched him in his arm before he proceeded to get more food. I discarded my plate and moved to grab a drink when I heard two people grunting. As my hand touched a glass the argument had escalated apparently and in a heartbeat I recognized that voice. God Hyunjin, not here. I quickly rushed over to the comotion to see Hyunjin in the face of a vaguely familiar person who had a slight stain on his blue dress shirt. Hyunjin had a matching stain of some sauce on his shirt as well.

“I said I was sorry why are you losing it over something small? Thanks to you I’m stuck walking around with a stain too, you aren’t the only one so get over it,” Hyunjin quipped.

“Well if you were watching where you were going in the first place then neither of us would have this problem,” the voice of J.one, or “Jisung” as Chan had told me some time ago, growled back.

“Why are you literally picking a fight over nothing bro?”

      Seungmin was already trying to pull Hyunjin back but both boys had each other by the collar. Jisung was no better as Changbin and Chan tried to quell his anger. I adjusted my face to fit my good girl facade with a pleasant smile and calm demeanor even when I was highly irritated with the situation. Of all the people Hyunjin had to fight he had to fight a 3racha member which forced me to confront the other two as well. I placed a hand on Hyunjin’s chest and another on Jisung’s hand that held Hyunjin’s shirt.

“Hwang Hyunjin, let him go,” I coaxed.

“But he-”

      I shot him a glare and repeated the sweet words with more venom this time. He dropped his hold but Jisung still had Hyunjin’s shirt balled in his fist. As Seungmin restrained Hyunjin to ensure he wouldn’t continue this squabble, I turned to Changbin.

“I apologize for my friend but I would appreciate it if your friend released him. It seems as though he had already apologized and by the looks of it he isn't blameless either but because it was due to my friend’s carelessness I apologize again in his place.”

      Hyunjin tried to protest but at the slight turn of my head and the slightest drop of my smile, Hyunjin stopped as my smile went back into place. Jisung was about to retort back but Changbin pulled the boy closer to him, hissing something into his ear, before he reluctantly let go with a grumble. Seungmin and Hyunjin quickly wished Changbin a happy birthday before the former dragged the latter away, leaving me to do damage control. I kept my gaze on Changbin and Jisung, not wanting to look at how good Chan was looking in his loose white button up and black slacks that- no Jieun. Damage control, focus.

“I’m sorry again for causing a disturbance like this at your birthday Changbin, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it if anything I want to apologize for my friend, he’s a bit hot tempered and just as much to blame, isn’t that right Jisung?”

Changbin nudged Jisung as he gave the boy a fierce glare. Jisung gave me a quick look over and mumbled his reply.

“... yeah whatever.”

“Well now that that’s settled I wish you a happy birthday and I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my friends.”

      I gave a slight nod of my head to excuse myself which Changbin returned before I turned to walk away. The whole time this exchange happened I felt Chan’s gaze burning the side of my head. I nervously touched my hair, feeling the familiar silky feeling of the wig. I tried my best to keep my face out of his line of view, did he notice? Before I completely faded into the crowd I listened in as the boys spoke to one another, using the crowd to hide myself and focused on the conversation amongst the noise.

“Dude I get you’re peeved but just let this one go. If my dad finds out I upset his friend’s kid, especially a sheltered one like her, he’ll kill me,” Changbin hissed.

       Okay rude. But in a way he isn’t wrong. I only ever hang out with the Seung-siblings and whenever I interact with anyone else around my age I put on the whole good southern girl act like in those American movies. I don’t interact with others, a bigger circle means it's harder to keep secrets anyways.

“Who? That girl?”

“Who is she anyways? She kinda feels familiar…” Chan mused.

       Shit does he recognize me? No way, I practically used my hair as a shield from him since he was to my side. My wig is securely on my head and my tattoo is covered. Naturally my voice goes higher when I talk with people I’m not close to, he wouldn't have recognized it… would he?

“There’s no way you would’ve met her hyung. That’s Kwon Jieun, she’s the daughter of that congressman who's all about the modest Korean household or whatever. I doubt she would be caught dead anywhere we hang out and she doesn’t attend the same university.”

“... Yeah, you’re probably right.”

       For once I was thankful for my stupid reputation. If I get exposed to Chan I want it to be from my own mouth. He deserves that much at least. I had heard enough and made my way back to Hyunjin and Seungmin. Hyunjin apologized and I let him off because in all honesty the whole reason I acted that way was, like Changbin, I didn’t want to get an earful from my parents. We stayed until they sang happy birthday before we snuck out and grabbed some actually filling food. Thank god I told my mom let me stay at the apartment because “it wasn’t safe to go around so late at night” so we just spent the rest of the night chilling.

[jeongyunhoed]

You’re traveling to another dimension It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity It is the middle ground between light and shadow, Between science and superstition It ties between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge This is the dimension of imagination

An ATEEZ Twilight Zone!AU (masterlist here)

A/N: Thus ends the series! Thank you for enjoying this whole weird, creepy set of stories. I’ll be posting the episode references in a bit after this. I hope you enjoy this last chapter all the same too. 

IX. An Alien in Human’s Clothing - Final

10:30 p.m. 

Two detectives, Park Seonghwa and Choi Jongho got out of the car, feet immediately sinking into the thick carpet of snow caused by the blizzard that was currently over their heads. They were at a diner, one of those themed eating places that were trendy nowadays to investigate a woman’s call of having seen something unusual in the skies and land in the same area as the diner. On the way, they did notice an unusual set of footprints nearby, indicating their suspicion, and they knew to follow it, coincidentally leading to the diner as well. Jongho glanced back to where the footprints came from, and he saw it came from the frozen pond nearby. The ice appeared to have been disturbed. He quickly followed Seonghwa, not wanting to stay in one place any longer. 

They noticed a bus also parked nearby and saw that the passengers of the bus must have stopped over to eat or get something to drink or at the very most, wait for the blizzard to blow over before continuing their journey. 

They quietly stepped in, shaking the snow off their shoulders while scanning the entire place. There were two couples seated on tables next to each other, one was sitting on the stool right in front of the cash register playing with what looked like a stuffed dog, one dressed in corporate attire and looking impatient, one woman in a thick coat and a dress was sitting by herself and drinking coffee, one whom they could assume was the bus driver reading an e-book on his phone, and the diner clerk himself, whose nametag read Kang Yeosang, serving coffee to the one seated in front of him. 

Seonghwa and Jongho exchanged looks, partly wondering if what they were thinking of doing made sense. They could’ve easily dismissed the suspicion from the call they received, yet they knew better not to do that. “Excuse me” Seonghwa announced, and held up his badge. Jongho showed his own badge as well. “I’m detective Park Seonghwa, this is my partner detective Choi Jongho. Can we ask whose bus is parked outside?” 

As they expected, the man reading the e-book in his table raised his hand. “That’s mine.” He said. 

“What’s your name?” 

“I’m Mingi, Song Mingi. Is there anything wrong?” He asked. 

“The blizzard closed up the bridge,” Jongho said. 

“That’s a pity, I can’t turn back either because the snow blocked one of the safer roads,” The driver said. 

“Looks like we’re all stuck here” Yeosang spoke. 

“Until morning anyway,” Seonghwa said. 

“Until morning? I have an early meeting, I can’t wait until morning,” The man in corporate wear said irritably. 

“Do you have a name?” Jongho said. 

“I’m Hongjoong. Kim Hongjoong” The man responded. 

“That bus isn’t going anywhere until the ones in charge clear out the bridge or at least fix it” Mingi argued. “If you can’t wait, then you might as well walk or book another ride” He added. 

“Until then, all of you should try and get comfortable, eat a good meal, we can’t leave here until the roads are cleared which could take hours,” Seonghwa said. 

“Oh, get comfortable, he said,” Hongjoong snapped. “My meeting tomorrow morning is a very important one, I am in the middle of closing this big deal and if I don’t show up, the deal will be off,” He huffed. He turned to the driver. “Don’t you care about your schedules?” He said. 

“I wouldn’t take out my frustrations on these guys. They don’t control the weather or when bridges become unpassable. All of this is beyond our control, beyond anyone’s control” The driver explained. 

Seonghwa and Jongho exchanged looks. They were reminded of why they were there. The atmosphere felt odd, a lot more unusual than what would typically be expected from getting stranded all of a sudden. “What do you think?” Jongho glanced at the taller. 

“They were all on the bus, right?” Seonghwa mumbled to his partner. 

“Are you two looking for anyone?” Yeosang asked them. 

Seonghwa and Jongho went over to Mingi. “Do you have a list of passengers?” Seonghwa asked. 

The driver looked taken aback. “A list of passengers? I’m not driving a commercial airline, why would I have a list of passengers?” He said. “That’s an old bus and business hasn’t been good. If my boss wanted to, he’d probably have me pilot a spacecraft to the moon or something if he knew it would make money.” 

“Do you at least know how many passengers you are transporting?” Jongho asked this time. 

The driver looked around. “I know I’m supposed to drive six people. Just six” He said. 

“Just six? No one fell out, then someone must have stowed away” Seonghwa scanned the room again. 

Mingi turned to look at his passengers, somehow feeling suspicious. “I just know I have six people on the bus with me. Seven, including me” He said. 

Jongho approached Yeosang at the counter, thanking him for the cup of coffee. “Was there anyone who was already in here before the bus arrived?” He asked. 

Yeosang shook his head. “I haven’t served anyone since lunchtime, I figured all of them came in at the same time” He replied. 

“There wasn’t anyone in here when we came in either” Mingi added. 

“Then how are there seven people?” Seonghwa glanced at the rest of them. “Which one of you wasn’t on the bus?” 

“We were all on the bus” Hongjoong replied. “What is this? Are we being interrogated? If I’m going to go through further questioning, then can I call my lawyer?” He asked. 

The man on the counter laughed. “Funny, he wants to book a ride and now he wants a lawyer,” He said. “Shiber, isn’t it funny?” He turned back to his stuffed dog. 

“Look, I’m going to be late for my early meeting. What difference does it make how many people were on the bus or who was on the bus?” Hongjoong complained. 

“Hey, relax. What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked the two detectives. 

“Did you hear anything unusual fly over here then?” Seonghwa turned to the clerk. 

Yeosang shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. What do you mean fly over?” 

“We got a call two hours ago, something about an unidentified flying object. We found tracks coming from the pond and stopped here,” Jongho explained. 

“An unidentified flying object?” Yeosang was in disbelief. “Like those flying saucers? That’s crazy, it’s as crazy as finding a floor in a department store that doesn’t exist, or as crazy as getting on a ghost ship, or as insane as finding a gremlin outside of a moving plane!” He chuckled. 

“Or as crazy as finding a place full of statues that turn out to be dead people,” The man on the counter chimed in. 

“Or as crazy as these two detectives thinking that there’s an alien in here” Hongjoong added, sarcasm evident in his tone. 

They looked surprised. “Wooyoung, I’m getting scared,” The woman said to her husband, who held her close. 

Mingi raised a brow. “Then it should only mean one of us in here is,” He paused, seeing the expressions on their faces. 

“That’s impossible. We would’ve seen them come in,” Hongjoong said, side-eyeing everyone.

Seonghwa turned to Yeosang. “If you have a back door, please lock it,” He said. 

“It’s already locked. If there is an alien, like you said, they would probably know how to get in here without even opening the door” Yeosang remarked. 

“All of you are suspicious, especially him” The man on the counter pointed to Hongjoong. “He’s the most suspicious of us all,” He said. 

“Oh really? I don’t remember seeing you on the bus,” Hongjoong raised a brow at him. 

“I don’t remember seeing you either” 

“Well, I know how you start looking, you pair off the couples,” The woman sitting alone suddenly spoke. “Since it’s just one person who’s the odd one out, pair off the couples.” 

“Then we’re in the clear” The couple sitting in the corner booth said. 

“Us too,” The one known as Wooyoung raised a hand. “My wife and I” He turned to her and noticed how she was staring at him. “What’s wrong?” 

“I-I think, have you not had a mole on your chin?” She asked. 

Wooyoung gave her a look. “Jea, I never had a mole on my chin,” He said. 

“Okay, this is getting too far, I know what’s going to happen, we’ll all end up suspecting each other, pointing out every unusual thing about the other out of suspicion” The man stood up. “I’m Jeong Yunho, this is my wife Mirae, we’ve been married for years,” He sat back down, moving closer to his wife, whom he noticed was staring at him. “Hey, before you say anything, we’ve known each other since we were kids, we’ve been dating since middle school, I think that’s a good amount of time for someone to know whom they’ve been with,” He pointed out. 

“Years? You two married early?” The man on the counter looked at them suspiciously. “Maybe you’re wearing masks! Or you’re immortal! Check their coats for extra arms! Pull their wigs off!” He cackled. 

“Can you shut it?” Mirae glared at him. 

Seonghwa and Jongho rounded on him. “What’s your name?” They asked. 

“I’m San! Choi San! Shiber is my dog!” He showed them the stuffed animal in his backpack. 

“Do you have any ID with you?” Jongho said. 

“I-uh,” San looked through his things. “My sister’s got the rest of my stuff, she’s taking a later bus ride,” He said. 

“Who sang Growl?” Seonghwa narrowed in on him. 

“I-I-I know! EXO!” San raised his hand. “EXO!” He hummed the song. The woman hummed along with him. 

“What about you, miss? Do you have any ID?” Seonghwa turned to the woman sitting alone. 

“I-I well, sorry, I actually don’t. I left my wallet in one of the boxes I had moved ahead. I only have my coin purse with me,” She replied with a sheepish look. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Jihye. Na Jihye. I’m a dancer” She replied. 

“Check her for extra legs!” San squealed. “Look under the table! Check her for extra legs!” 

“I’m going to belt you if you don’t drop it” Jihye shot at him. 

“She was on the bus” Mingi suddenly commented. He glanced over at her. “She’s the only one I noticed.” 

Jihye smiled. “Thank you” and he smiled back. 

“Did you really count heads?” Jongho turned back to Mingi. 

“Yes! I probably only noticed her, but I am telling you I counted heads! Six people, no more, no less” Mingi was beginning to get annoyed. 

“Is this some sort of hidden camera prank?” Hongjoong grumbled. 

Seonghwa and Jongho turned to Jihye, but before they could speak, the jukebox in the corner by the door started playing. The lights began to flicker. “What’s going on? Did you-” Mingi glanced at Yeosang, who shook his head. 

The music stopped and the lights went back to normal. Mingi transferred to Jihye’s table. “Whoever’s doing this, just come forward and admit it now,” Wooyoung said. 

“It must have been the power. It’s snowing out there after all” Yeosang looked out the window, but whipped around to look up as the lights were flickering again, and the jukebox resumed playing. Mingi and Jihye yelled as the sugar dispenser in front of them exploded. 

Yunho covered Mirae when the dispenser on their table burst as well, and Wooyoung did the same with Jea, the two of them yelling when their dispenser burst. Seonghwa and Jongho held out their firearms in an alert. “That’s enough! Whoever’s doing this!” Mingi said irritably but calmed down when Jihye rubbed his arm. 

“It’s not funny anymore! Stop it!” Jea was on the verge of tears. 

“Okay, okay, everyone calm down,” Seonghwa cut in. “We don’t quite understand what’s going on in here ourselves, but we can’t leave this place until the bridges are cleared” 

Hongjoong turned to Mingi. “Once it does, you will be driving us all the way, no stops whatsoever,” He said. 

“Hey, you’re probably some hotshot where you’re from but I know when bridges aren’t safe to cross more than you” Mingi snapped. 

“He’s probably eager to get back to his spaceship” San eyed Hongjoong. 

“Said the one who continues to fear monger among us” Hongjoong shot back. 

“Just leave him alone,” Jihye spoke. 

“I don’t recall you being involved in this conversation” Hongjoong said. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t aware that I had to be invited” Jihye argued. 

“Okay! Okay! That’s enough, it’s been a long night, so I suggest we get some rest and wait for the snow to stop, hmm?” Jongho tried to ease the tension. Everyone stopped and calmed down. Seonghwa went to the side to try and contact their superior officers. “When all this is over, we’ll be laughing about it years from now” He added quietly. 

~ 

6 a.m. 

Seonghwa and Jongho watched over everyone that slept and noticed that the snow had stopped. Both of them were on their fifth cup of coffee that they poured themselves as Yeosang had dozed off in the back room, the door open for them to easily see what he was doing. “The snow’s stopped,” Jongho said. 

“But are the bridges cleared up by now?” Seonghwa looked out the window. There was still a thick carpet of snow covering the ground and the roads leading to the bridge. He could see a glimpse of trucks moving away from the entrance. “Looks like it too.” 

“Great, should we go now? I’ve got three hours left until my meeting and I don’t want to miss it” Hongjoong said. 

“I don’t think we should. There’s something about that bridge that doesn’t sit right with me. Must be the suspension or something, but I don’t know if it’s safe to cross” Mingi shook his head. 

“If the local engineer says its safe, then its safe, we can even escort you over to the other side” Seonghwa assured him. His phone suddenly rang and he went to the side to answer it. “Hello? Yes, ah, really? Okay, I’ll tell them,” And he hung up. Seonghwa turned to everyone. “That was the engineer, the captain must have given him my number. The engineer said its safe to cross, we can all go ahead now.” 

“Leave? Are you sure? You might be letting an alien loose” San said. 

“True, but we can’t detain someone on the suspicion of being an alien” Jongho nodded. 

“Before you leave, pay for your food first” Yeosang entered the room, having overheard the conversation. The rest of them lined up to pay before leaving, boarding the bus followed by Seonghwa and Jongho, who got in their car, leading the way away from the diner and onto the road. 

~ 

Yeosang was wiping the tables and counters sometime later. The door opened and to his surprise, it was Hongjoong, who sat down in front of him at the counter and asked for a cup of coffee. “Hey, weren’t you on that bus?” He said, pouring Hongjoong a cup and sliding the smaller sugar dispenser towards him. 

“I did, I went on the bus, and that bridge wasn’t safe,” Hongjoong shook his head, stirring his drink. “It collapsed. Everyone, the bus, the detectives, they all sank, it was horrible” He looked down. 

“Except you” Yeosang still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“Yeah, except me. I guess I’m just lucky” Hongjoong glanced at him before taking a drink. 

“Very lucky, but you’re not even wet” Yeosang looked him up and down. 

“Wet?” Hongjoong asked. “What’s...wet?” 

“What do you mean what’s wet? You were in the bus and the bus sank, you’re supposed to be wet but you’re not, you’re dry,” Yeosang pointed out. 

“Oh, well, that’s just an illusion,” Hongjoong said. “ Like the music from that jukebox in the corner, that’s an illusion too” He added. “Or even your mobile phone ringing, also an illusion” He said, and the phone in Yeosang’s pocket suddenly rang as if on his command. The clerk stared at him, and noticed that one arm came out from under his coat, resting its hand on the counter. 

“...What are you?”

“Oh, well, before you say anything, I should probably tell you that my name isn’t really Hongjoong, and I never had a meeting to go to,” Hongjoong smiled. “I was kind of sent here on a mission to scout possible places to colonize, and this place on Earth seems perfect, very remote, very isolated, we wouldn’t be calling attention to ourselves. We don’t have anything this nice on Mars, where I come from. It won’t be long before my colleagues will be here. So, why don’t you put on some music while we wait?” 

Yeosang’s face softened, and he leaned on the counter. “I don’t mind, I’m actually waiting for something too. My name isn’t really Yeosang, and I agree that this is a great place to colonize. All of us from Venus were thinking the same thing, we got here a few years ago” He smiled. “I should probably tell you that your colleagues won’t be coming either” 

“Won’t? You mean they’ve been intercepted?” Hongjoong raised a brow. 

“Well, a colony is coming, but it’s a colony from Venus” Yeosang grinned. “And if you’re still alive, you’ll see how we’re very different from each other” He removed his cap, revealing a third eye on his forehead. 

[spookyblackwidow]

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the request!! This is mostly angst, with a fluffy ending, I hope you’ll enjoy it! Prompt lines are in bold

Eggshells

1,524 words

After a third day of fruitless negotiations, Natasha and Clint were escorted back to their hotel room in Cuernavaca, Mexico. A month prior, Fury had found a lead on some missing Stark tech and started coaching them on their latest identities: arms dealer Renata Alvez and her bodyguard Sebastian Burke. Their attention to detail was impeccable, their execution flawless, but the seller had already dragged the process out longer than necessary, and they’d yet to see proof of possession.

Nat sunk down into the bed, a chorus of old springs creaking beneath her, and removed her curly brown wig. She flung it towards the empty dresser before laying back and closing her eyes.

“I want to go home,” she murmured in a voice not quite her own.

“Mmhmm.” Clint gently moved her hand, placing her palm just above her bellybutton, and sat down beside her. “Wanna take that thing off? Not that Renata isn’t attractive, but I’d rather see you.”

“Oh, right.” Natasha peeled away the disguise tech. “Better?”

“Much.” Clint smiled down at her. “Ready for today’s news?”

“Do we have to?” she groaned.

“Absolutely. You and Nick demoted me to sidekick, this is my one thing I get to do for you.” He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through messages and news articles. “Okay, so Tony fell asleep in his workshop last night, which meant no one was watching Dum-E, who almost cost Stark more than just a few suits. If Pepper hadn’t gone through while we were in Berlin and installed enough fire safety devices to equip a small city, it might’ve been a total loss. Not that Stark’s quips and nicknames would’ve been missed, but we’re grateful all the same.

“Next up, Steve discovered cronuts and won’t stop talking about them. Sam’s already sent ‘SOS’ and ‘I’ve made a grave mistake,’ as well as about a thousand of those angry swearing emojis. I’d say he’s having just about as much fun as we are.

“Thor’s still off-world doing whatever the hell it is he does out there, so I guess we’ll have to wait to hear about his misguided antics until he returns. Did you know,” he turned to face her, setting his phone on the sheets, “he once asked me how to use the toaster? I mean, the guy can fly, for fucks sake, he spouts off about how human technology is ‘so primitive,’ yet the process of placing sliced bread into a slot and pushing down a lever was beyond his grasp. He’s entertaining, but damn, he is not as smart as—”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?” Nat snapped, her eyes scrunched closed. It was then that Clint noticed how taut her muscles were, how her shoulders were creeping up toward her ears.

“Y-yeah. I’ll just… go read or something.”

Clint wanted to help, to offer a back rub or something, but they’d been together long enough for him to know she needed space and silence. She was stressed and upset, not that he could blame her; Nick had sent them off on a “long weekend” sort of trip that was anything but. He could’ve had them on a five-hour flight to Mexico City, which would put them roughly half an hour from their hotel, but he’d vetoed that plan in favor of something more authentic to their cover story. So they took a four-hour flight to Houston, walked nearly 45 minutes to the rental car, and then drove over 17 hours to Cuernavaca. A day and a half one way, all for some fucking authenticity. Anyone would be stressed after that.

Clint grabbed a book from his suitcase and slipped out to the shaded balcony despite strict instructions to stay inside the room. The building was surrounded by their contact’s guards, but he figured the odds of being shot for disobeying orders were about the same no matter which side of the door he chose, and he’d much rather risk his life without irritating Nat; although, she would be fairly mad at him if he died. She always teased that the coroner would be able to list “stupidity” as his official cause of death.

He paged through his book for a while, doing his best to stick to shadows and the guards’ blind spots as they circled, and decided it was finally safe enough to go back in. As soon as he opened the sliding door, he heard the shower running and Nat faintly humming a tune he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t quite nine, but Clint knew Nat’s routines well enough to know she’d be ready to pull the curtains and turn in for the night after combing her hair.

Clint was also acutely aware that after their spat, he was uninvited from sharing the king-sized bed, a reality he was almost always prepared for. Hidden in the lining of his suitcase was a sleeping bag designed for missions requiring outdoor reconnaissance—lightweight, durable, thermal lined—though he mainly used it for nights like this, resigned to sleeping on a cold floor thinly covered by rough carpet. At least it was midsummer, a combination of the baking sun and lack of functioning air conditioning had kept the entire room warmer than he was accustomed to.

Honestly, Clint could fall asleep just about anywhere, it didn’t matter if he was particularly comfortable or not; as long as the ever-present exhaustion pressed against the back of his eyes, he could sleep. He wasn’t sure if it was noise or stress over aggravating his partner, but something woke him several hours after they’d settled down for the night. At first, he kept his eyes closed, willed himself back to the warm embrace of sleep, but instinctual worry nagged at him. With a suppressed sigh, he gave up and looked around the cramped space.

Natasha was standing at the sliding door, the edge of the fraying curtain balled in her fist, moonlight spilling across her face through the gap in the fabric. Clint sat up slowly in an effort to not startle her.

“Nat? Why are you awake?”

“I… I don’t know.” She shook her head and turned around to face him. “I guess I’m just having trouble sleeping tonight.”

“Is this about the job? Because I’m sure we’ll be out of here soon, they have to trust us at some point.”

“No, Barton, I don’t think this is about the job.” Nat smiled softly and let the curtain fall closed, plunging them into darkness. He could hear her pad over to the bed, the springs protesting as she sat on the edge. Under normal circumstances, she was hard to track, nearly silent, as if she barely touched a thing, but the longer they were together, the more weight she seemed to put into her movements, like she didn’t feel the need to walk on eggshells around him. He followed the sound and settled in next to her.

“Are we okay?” Clint’s voice was rough and low. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he had to ask. She had called him Barton, for fuck’s sake.

Nat was quiet for far longer than he would’ve liked, but she laid her head on his shoulder as she pondered the question.

“We’re okay, I think.”

“Is it something I did, or—”

“Oh, no, I’m—” she took deep breath and exhaled agonizingly slowly, “I’m sorry, it’s me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier; I don’t even know how you put up with me.”

Clint couldn’t suppress a chuckle, his shaking shoulders causing Nat to sit up straight again. Although his eyes hadn’t adjusted quite enough to see her features yet, he felt her quizzical stare that he was so intimately familiar with.

“Did I say something funny?”

“‘Put up with’ you? Really, Nat? I put up with Tony and his personal brand of chaotic insanity. I put up with Fury’s absurd paranoia, the difficulties of the job, the long nights, the constant risk of harm, but you? My god, do you think I’d still be here, going on missions, just the two of us, if I couldn’t handle the stressed arguments?”

“I—”

“And this was nothing, Nat! You snapped at me, so what? To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised you don’t yell at me more often. I’m obnoxious.”

“No, you’re—you know what? You are kind of obnoxious.” Nat laughed quietly and placed a hand on his stubbled cheek. “But you’re my obnoxious partner, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Agreed.” Clint gently pressed into her palm and smiled, relief washing over him. “Now go back to bed, I have a feeling we’ll be heading home tomorrow.” He stood and started toward his sleeping bag, but Nat snagged his wrist.

“Only if you’ll join me.”

Resting comfortably in Clint’s arms. Natasha quickly fell back asleep, content, safe. Even though this was their usual arrangement, Clint savored every second of it, letting the rise and fall of Nat’s chest, the slow, steady breaths lull him until unconsciousness took over. No matter where their missions brought them, this was home.

Tag List: @romanoff--natasha​ @clintashaotp​ @baker151910​ @unsociable-hobbit​ @thexploress​ @unholyromanoff​

[arealfaux]

PART 3: RADIOACTIVE

Part 3 to the Electra Heart series! Just a forewarning, I don’t know when the next part will come out since the upcoming week is my finals and I’m so ready for this semester to be over with. But until then, please be patient with me.

Much love.

- M

(P.S. I did in fact change my username//previously abandito)

Pairing: Steve x reader (unrequited), and a tad of Loki x reader (cause we stan a god)

Synopsis: In which Electra Heart comes out to play and you have never felt more in control. A nuclear meltdown. Toxic and destructive. And just a little bit radioactive.

You let out an irritated sigh as you watched as the rest of the Avengers laughed and splashed each other at the pool while you were lying in a lounge chair in your bikini from a distance. You hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, but Sam had kept bugging you until you finally agreed. You had tried to make the best of it but then she showed up. Of course she did because Sharon was Steve’s girlfriend. And now you didn’t feel the need to join the rest of them anymore. So you were just lounging around with your arm covering your eyes trying to block the sun from blinding you.

“You’ll never get a tan.” That made you remove your arm from around your eyes to see who had joined you.

“What?” You ask as you tilt you head in a bemused manner.

“I said you’ll never get a tan.” Loki repeats not once looking up from the book he held in his hand. “Lying on a fake beach.”

You continue to stare at him baffled.

“It’s a pun, darling.” He finally explains to you.

You let out a relieved laugh. “You know for a second there, I thought you had finally lost it.”

“I figured.”

But you still didn’t understand what he meant.

“You still have no idea what I’m talking about, do you, darling?” He asks.

“Not a clue.”

He shuts the book he had been reading before looking at you. “As long as he’s lying with that fake bitch over there, he’ll never get a ten like you.”

His words make your eyes widen. Well, you were not expecting that. You observe him carefully. He notices this but doesn’t back out from staring at you. You take in the fact that he was wearing his regular clothes and an idea popped into your head. You give him a mischievous smile.

“I didn’t want to come here in the first place and everyone else seems to be having a grand ole time. I highly doubt that they would notice if we made an escape. So what do you say, Loki? Want to make a run for it?” You ask with a raise eyebrow.

__________________________________________

You and Loki manage to leave without anyone noticing and somewhere along the way you manage to get properly dressed. From there, you both found yourselves in some sort of costume store. You immediately went to the wig section while he disappeared down a different aisle. You were just looking for one that caught your eye. Before you knew it, you found it. A straight platinum blonde wig with bangs.

       Perfect.

You let out a huge smile at the thought.

You and Loki met up again outside of the shop. A smirk on his face as he took in your new look. One of his hands came out from around his back to touch a small strand of the wig on your head. Then his other hand came out and you finally were able to see what he had found.

You raise up one of your eyebrows questioningly. “A fake crowbar? And is that a sash?” You take the pink object from him. You let out a laugh at the words printed on it.

       Miss Shellfish Beach.

“You know this is more of the puns I had in mind.” You tell him as you put the sash around you proudly. “What’s this for?”

“I think we’re both aware of what’s going to happen. She is going to make an appearance, darling.”

You give him a surprised look.

“Telepath, remember.” He explains. You had forgotten about his powers.

“What’s the plan, then?” You ask.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I think it’s time she comes out and plays, wouldn’t you agree, darling?” He asks in a silky voice, trying to lure you in.

       Yes.

A mischievous grin, one that rivals the smile you gave him earlier, appears on his face. Before you could think about it, you suddenly pull him into a kiss. Your hands grabbing onto his collar while his wrap around your waist. When you break apart, he is still donning the grin. You knew he understood what you were trying to tell him.

“Hello there, darling. Who are you going to be now?”

“I’m still me.” You answer truthfully. “It’s just my alter ego.”

“But she does have a name.” He implies. You nod yes. “What is it?” You move your hands to cup the sides of his face.

       “Electra Heart.”

He hums at that.

“Well, how about we live a little tonight then?” He says with that mischievous look again. “I think it’s time you get back at him, how do you feel?” He removes his hands from your waist in order to twirl around the fake crowbar in an impish way.

       I feel like neon gold.

“What do you say?”

“Let’s have some fun.” You tell him and he gives you a piercing grin.

       When you’re around me, I’m radioactive.

__________________________________________

“What’s all this?” You ask as he leads you into a room back at the compound. You look around and notice that everything in the room is all the stuff that Steve has given you throughout your friendship.

“This, darling, is how you’re going to ruin him. Can you just imagine the look on poor Captain’s face? It would be magnificent!” He explains.

You smile because his face would be priceless. The realization that you didn’t need him anymore. “I have a feeling that you had this planned out from the beginning.” There was no way he could’ve moved all this without pre-planning.

“Well, I am the God of Mischief, darling. Now, go on. No one will stop you.” He says as he offers the prop crowbar to you.

You let out a giggle before taking the prop, it surprised you to feel that it was heavier than expected. He just winks at you and you realize that he had an actual crowbar. You smile back at him with a glint in your eyes. Where to start?

You walk up to a medium size frame that has a drawing of you in a little sundress lying in a field of daises. Steve had taken you there because he wanted to share the place with you. You remember how you felt that day. You had felt special. You had felt noticed.  You were so caught up in that feeling that you hadn’t even noticed that he was drawing you. Later, he had surprised you with it. It was the first gift Steve had ever given you.

       My blood is burning.

You didn’t think twice before smashing the crowbar into the framed drawing. You watch in elation as the glass shatters. It felt euphoric. Next you spot a beautiful wooden jewelry box that looked like it had been from the 40s. It had been a birthday gift at the beginning of your friendship. You remembered how you had cried when you unwrapped it because it was just so beautiful.

       I’m turning radioactive.

You hit the box with the crowbar until the wood was chipping and splitting and even then some. You finally grab it and throw it as hard as you could into the ground, watching as it dismantled into pieces. You find your teddy bear that has a Captain America costume. He had gotten you this as a joke because you loved to cuddle and so he got you the bear for when he was away on missions. You had cuddled with that bear ever since he gave it to you.

       My heart is nuclear.

You feel no remorse as you rip the bear apart, tearing it to shreds. You have never felt this powerful. You have never felt more in control.

       I’m the one who left you, you’re not the one who left me.

You go through every single thing Steve has ever given you until you finally reach the end of the line. The myriad of small picture frames. You can’t help yourself as you grab the first one. You run your fingers over the glass. It was the first picture you had ever taken together. It was at one of Tony’s galas and you had been such a nervous mess. You weren’t used to those sort of things back then. But out of nowhere, Steve came up to you introducing himself and distracted you from your nerves. He made you fell calm and comfortable, and never had you opened yourself up to someone that quickly before. You frown as you come back from that memory.

       “I take one look at you and I grow cold.”

You throw the frame against the wall and then smash the rest on the floor. When you’re done, you take a moment to see all the damage you had done. You notice how your chest is heaving and you take in some deep breaths.

“Y/N?”

“Doll?”

You hear a series of voices calling you and when you turn around, you’re not at all surprised to see the whole team staring at you and the room as they look astounded. They surely must have heard all the noise. Your eyes immediately go to his face. To Steve’s face.

You can see the sadness and the sheer hurt in his eyes as he realizes what all the things you had destroyed were. His gifts to you. Loki had been right, that look had been magnificent to you. It makes the corners of your lips lift and you try not to smile.

When Steve finally looks at you, it alarms him at how unrecognizable you look. You look like a completely different person. Like someone he didn’t know. And that scared him. It scared him how vacant your eyes looked, how heartless you looked.

You didn’t say a word as you remove the wig from your head and drop it on the floor. And you still didn’t say a word as you shove the crowbar into Steve’s chest before walking away. Only then, as you were making your way to your room, did you let yourself let out a giggle.

       Love is all that I fear.

__________________________________________

Tag List: @sheadre​, @little-dark-empress​

[bnhabadass]

BNHA Halloween Day 9 - Horns

@bnha-halloween2019 | Day [9]: [Horns] / [Kirishima x Reader] | [Mature] | [Borderline smut, mention of bondage]

It was a warm day for October, and you and your boyfriend decided to visit the Halloween store that had just opened up in the mall. You always loved those big animatronic ghouls and witches that said stuff like “come in little girl” followed by an ugly cackle.

Kirishima pulled his car into the parking lot and the two of you got out, you skipping and acting jumpier than usual out of the sheer excitement that was your favorite time of the year. “Wait for me!” Kiri said, running to catch up with you and tackle you to the ground.

You squealed but caught your fall before hitting the pavement. You stood up and saw he was running away from you, so you chased after him only to see that he had stopped and was staring at something.

“Haha check this guy out.” He pointed to a zombified looking guy who, when you press a button, begins moving his arm, grasping for something (or someone). You laughed, loving how much Kiri was getting into the spooky spirit. You reached for his hand and the two of you walked into the store together.

You were enticed by some of the sexy looking costumes and wigs lining the walls of the store. Maybe if there was time you could try a couple on. Who knows, maybe Kiri would like it.

He didn’t seem interested in what you were eyeing, though. He broke his grip away from you and grabbed a Jason mask hanging on the wall. “What do you think of this, babe?” he asked.

You giggled and went over to lift up the mask and kiss him. “I think you should wear that for Bakugo during one of your bromance sessions.”

“Is somebody jealous?” he asked, quirking his eyebrow up. The smirk on his lips continued turning upward as you pretended to think long and hard about the question.

“Maybe not jealous, perse.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to do something about that.”

You tried leaning in to kiss him again, but he ducked and ran off, only leaving the mask in your hands. You scoffed, both out of irritation and amusement. Where did that boy run off to? Oh well. It gave you a bit more time to browse those sexy costumes you saw earlier.

You walked over to the array of adult costumes, your eyes lingering on some of them a bit longer than others. They weren’t supposed to be lingerie, but how were they not! There were so many of them. Sexy bee, sexy red riding hood, sexy nurse, sexy prison inmate, you shuddered at the sexy minion costume. This list went on and on. That’s when your eyes landed on the most raunchy looking of them all. The sexy devil. The costume was just straight up bondage; a tiny leotard with a lace up front and cups for your breasts as well as a shibari style harness in the shape of a pentagram to go around your chest. It also came with small little hair clips in the shape of devil horns. You loved it. And you knew Kiri would like it too.

You grabbed it off the rack and went over to the self checkout, taking out your wallet and sticking your card in the machine. The transaction had been completed, and now all you had to do was hide the costume in your–

“There you are!”

You yelped and shoved the costume behind your back at hearing Kirishima’s voice.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

You completely forgot. The only reason you came here in the first place was to find a big bowl with pumpkins on it or something to put the candy in for trick-or-treaters. “Uh…nope,” you said. “Guess we’ll have to look somewhere else!”

“Well what’s that?” He pointed to the thing you kept behind your back.

“Uh...” Think, (Y/n). You clutched the costume desperately and looked around the store, stating the first thing your eyes landed on. “Grease paint.”

“Grease paint?” He quirked his eyebrow up at you, not really buying what you had said.

“Yes.” Oh god, what do you say in this situation. “Because I decided I’m going to be a…” Come on, (Y/n). Quick lie quick lie quick lie. “...vampire this halloween.”

“A vampire,” he said.

This had to be the most painful conversation. “Yes. I’m going to be a vampire.”

He smiled at you with his big sharp teeth. “Well alright then. Do you want to get anything else for your costume while we’re here?”

“Nope,” you said. The stoic expression on your face refused to leave. “Let’s just mosey on outta here.”

He laughed and you two walked out of the store. You tucked the costume into your purse while he wasn’t looking. By the time the two of you made it back to your apartment, you only had a couple hours until you had to go to work. You had been assigned night patrol and was not looking forward to the long hours ahead.

“I’ll start dinner,” Kiri said, getting out of the car.

“Sounds good.” You yawned, also getting out of the car. “I think I’m gonna take a quick nap before work.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Rest up, babe.”

You smiled a sleepy smile at him before taking out your keys and unlocking the apartment. You opened your bedroom door and threw your purse onto the bed. The costume you purchased fell out and onto the floor. You might as well try it on while you had the time. After all, you bought it on a whim and wasn’t even sure if it was the right size. You gently opened the bag and took out the costume. The leotard was skimpy, leaving very little to the imagination.

You took off your shirt and unbuttoned your jeans, allowing them to slip off with ease. You stuck one leg through the leotard and then let the other follow. The harness was easy to slip over your neck, and there was a little tail you noticed dangling between your legs. You looked in the mirror. Sexy was one word to describe the way you looked. Fierce was another. You were shocked to see just how well the costume accentuated every one of your curves. You couldn’t help but toss your hair around at the sight, making it look bigger than it actually is. That’s when you remembered the little clip on horns. Once you put them in, the costume was perfect. You couldn’t help but do a little twirl and pose for yourself in the mirror.

“That looks cute.”

You jumped a little at hearing your boyfriend’s voice. He wasn’t meant to see you in this. Not yet anyway. You crossed your arms, a terrified expression on your face.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, patting the seat next to him. “Come here.”

You obliged, still clutching yourself for dear life. You gulped as you sat next to him. “What do you think?” Any self confidence you had before was long gone.

Kirishima looked up and put his hand on his chin, pretending to think long and hard about it. “Hmm. I don’t know if I should be scared or intrigued.”

You hit him on the arm and he laughed.

“I’m just joking,” he said. “You look so fucking sexy.” The way his usually spiky hair fell over his eyes, added by the hungry looking grin on his face, made him look like a beast, like you were his prey and he was here to devour you. He leaned in and caught your lips with his own. The two of you were like that, just making out on the edge of your bed for a long time. He pulled your bottom lip back with his teeth and you gave him a sultry look. He began kissing down your neck, leaving small marks everywhere his lips touched. He grabbed part of the pentagram harness with his teeth and lifted it up, only to open his mouth and have it release onto your skin, causing you to gasp.

Kiri was never rough during sex, which made you wonder what was in store just then. He pushed you back ever so gently so your back hit the mattress. He continued kissing down your body, then made his way back up your thighs. He stopped for a second to look up and you and clink the end of his fingernail against the clip on horns. “I like your horns,” he said.

“Really? That’s what you stopped for?”

He gave a low chuckle. “You want me to continue?”

You gave a silent nod.

“Alright then.” He pressed a warm hand to your pelvis and gently pushed down as he kissed the inside of your thighs.

Yes, you thought. Yes. Yes. Keep going Kiri.

But your thoughts were interrupted when the alarm on your phone went off. Right. You had work in an hour. The both of you sighed out of frustration. And just when it was getting to the good part.

“You should eat something before going to work,” he said. He extended an arm to help you up, but you dragged him closer until he fell on top of you. This time you were the one to capture his lips with yours.

“To be continued,” you said with a small wink before getting up to change. Your shift at work that night was agonizing. All you could think about were Kirishima’s kisses and how sexy you looked in that devil costume. You were quick to race back home after your shift, and you wasted no time unlocking the door and bursting in.

Kirishima looked up at you, and you saw that your little clip on horns were placed meticulously in his hair.

You tried stifling a laugh. “What are you wearing?”

“What?” He smiled at you. “I told you I like your horns.”

[danganronpa-tng]

Chapter 3 - The Trial of Vanessa Yumeno and London Akamatsu

“Vanessa was found lying in bed in her own room, as that seems to be where she was killed. She had many cut wounds all over her body, sizes varying.

Cause of death was suffocation. Suffocation was caused by one slit along the neck, which it seemed was the first and fatal wound. The last was a stab to the gut. There were no signs of a struggle and no other wounds were recorded.

The victim was killed at approximately 9:15PM. She was discovered at approximately 9AM the next day.”

“London was found collapsed against the wall beside the door of Vanessa’s room, which appears to be where she died. She had a bullet wound through the head.

Cause of death was gunshot to the head. She was killed instantly. Other than the bullet wound, no other wounds were recorded.

She was killed at approximately 9:20PM. She was discovered at approximately 9AM the next day.

As Hayden, Aeja and Kamron found them and set off the body discovery announcement, they are not suspects.”

~ ~ ~

“Hm... I find it odd that they were both killed with different weapons. And with a five minute interval.”

“Ah, that’s true Aeja... Any ideas?”

“Not really. They were obviously killed during the masquerade though, that’s a given. I’m assuming we didn’t hear the gun fire over the music. Where are the weapons, anyway?”

~ ~ ~

“Hey, Yaretzi...”

Hayden goes to pat Yaretzi’s back. The flinches and pulls away.

“Stop-! Oh, apologies.”

“Woah, hey. It’s ok, but... are you ok? I didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“No, it is not that... I have haphephobia. Fear of being touched.”

“Oh! S-sorry...”

“You’re not at fault, you weren’t to know. Anyways, did you come to ask me something?”

“Uhm, yeah, kinda. I just wanted to check if you were alright. I know how close you and Vanessa were...”

“Mm... Yes, we were extremely close. Some would say... ah, nevermind. I am determined to expose her killer though. I refuse to let her have no vengeance. ‘I will execute great vengeance on them with wrathful rebukes. They will know that I am the Lord, when I may my vengeance upon them.’  Ezekiel, 25:17.”

~ ~ ~

“Hey, Hayden?”

“Yeah, Katelyn?”

“I just took a walk down to the weaponry room to check, and I found two weapons bloodied; a blade, and... well, Oliver’s gun.”

“Oh... thanks, Katelyn. Now we know where the weapons went.”

“Anything I can do to help the investigation.”

~ ~ ~

“Everything alright, Kassidy?”

“I mean, I guess... I feel like I’ve been way too involved in the last few murders, though. I found Tadashi, and I organised the event that led to their deaths...”

“Hey, hey! You’re not to blame here. You wouldn’t have known this would happen. And if you’re worried about people blaming you, you have an alibi. You were up playing music the whole time, so everyone saw you.”

“Right... right. Thank you, Hayden.”

“No problem. I’m here if you need me.”

~ ~ ~

“H-hey, Hayden...”

“Yeah, Mat?”

“I-I don’t know if it’s relevant, but last night I saw Estrella running out of the masquerade really quickly... p-probably not important, though.”

“Actually, I remember that! She bumped into me on her way out, right after Yaretzi and Vanessa left... thanks, Matio! I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Y-you’re welcome..!”

~ ~ ~

The Trial

~ ~ ~

“Well, basically everyone was with someone last night! Who was on their own at some point?”

“Hm... Well, London herself stayed pretty separate from the group through the night. Estrella ran off on her own for about ten minutes, and Yaretzi dropped Vanessa back to her room, meaning Yaretzi was the last to see her alive, besides the killer. Yaretzi, did you see anything?”

“A-ah, no... I just talked to her and left after she walked into her room. I wish I had stayed longer, though. Maybe I could have changed her fate.”

~ ~ ~

“Hey, hey, can I say something?”

“Oh, sure Sara. Go ahead.”

“Ok, so while I was helping make everyone’s outfits for the party, while I was in the closet- the walk in closet, not the metaphorical one, I’m very obviously gay- I noticed that there was multiple of each outfit, in separate sizes, with masks...and wigs, for some odd reason. Like, wigs of our hairstyles. So what if... Hear me out, the killer was disguised when they did it?”

~ ~ ~

“...Hey, Estrella?”

“Hmm? What’s up, robo-dick?”

“That’s robopho- ah, why do I even bother. Anyways, a few questions, if you will.”

“Shoot. Not literally. If you have lasers, please do not shoot.”

“I... Ok. So, your father runs DICE, an evil organisation, correct?”

“Yep!”

“And your logo is a dice, correct?”

“Mhm!”

“Well, I found a dice drawn in blood beside London’s corpse. Whether it was by her or by the killer, I’m not sure. But... It sorta points to you.”

“...ah.”

~ ~ ~

“You guys can’t seriously believe that. Are you that stupid?! It’s a stupid picture drawn in blood. Easy to use to frame me with!”

“Well, do you have an airtight alibi for the entire evening?”

“Why yes I do! I was with Aeja all evening, as she can confirm.”

“Yeah, she was with me-”

“Hold up! Remember what Sara said? What with the wigs and everything, and Estrella’s mask actually covering her whole face, she could have been disguised as someone else, and you could have been with someone else.”

‘‘I- what..?”

“What?! That’s fucking absurd! You’re really grasping at straws here, aren’t you Karma?! Is this because your crush got stolen, huh?! Well cry me a river and name it by the dead, but don't start accusing me because you’re a bit pissy!”

“Why you-!”

“A-actually...”

“Huh? Yaretzi?”

“I... well, I didn’t want to say anything, but last night, Estrella... did something to me.”

“What?”

“What?!”

“W h a t .”

~ ~ ~

“When I left Vanessa, I ran into Estrella on the way back. I hadn’t intended to say anything, but suddenly she threw a punch at me, knocking me over. She said... She told me to swap places with her. We both had full face masks and are similar height so it would technically work. She told me to take her place for the rest of the night or... she’d kill me. She said she’s hurt me if I told anyone, too...”

All eyes turn to Estrella. Estrella’s eyes are wide with shock, like she’s trying to put something together.

“...You can’t be serious. You seriously expect everyone to believe such an obvious lie?! News flash, little miss Holy; I can sense when someone is lying to me and that was practically painful!”

She looks around.

“You guys can’t be taking her seriously, right?! I know I’m a liar, but I wouldn’t go to those lengths!”

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t!”

“Oh really, Yaretzi?! And why’s that?!”

“I went in for my call after you, and I heard a bit of what you said.”

‘Eavesdropper-”

“You said, and I quote, “I’m going to get out of here, no matter what”. You might not have acted on that motive, but when me and Vanessa went to leave, you saw your chance. It sounds far fetched, but it all adds up!”

“No the fuck it doesn’t! Oh my god, you- wait. Wait, holy crap. You did it. YOU killed them!”

“What?”

“You killed Vanessa when she was vulnerable, then when London spotted you, you killed her too and decided to frame me! It’s so obvious!”

“No, that’s ridiculous. That wouldn’t require a swap, would it?”

“Who said we fucking swapped, you lunatic-?!”

“Actually!”

“...Sara? Sara, please.”

“Sorry Es, but I checked the dressing room again during the investigation. The wigs and outfits of you and Yaretzi were strewn out, not put away neatly like the others. They’d obviously been used.”

~ ~ ~

“I... You all seriously think I killed them? Really? I mean, I know I’m a bit of a bicth, and I lie a lot, but... murder? I’d never! Part of being a member of DICE is never committing murder! Even if it wasn’t, I... I wouldn’t have the heart to go through with it. C’mon, someone has to believe me! Kassidy, Aspen, Sara, Hayden?!”

“...”

“Even... Aeja? Please, please don’t tell me you think I killed them. I- we almost kissed last night, you have to trust me, right?!”

“...Estrella, I-I’m sorry.”

“...this can’t be happening, right? I’m asleep, I’m hallucinating, I’m dead, or- or SOMETHING! You can’t really... really think that I...”

Suddenly, Estrella cut herself off with a sob. Weld never even seen her genuinely tear up before, let alone sob. There was a small part of me that said it was real, that she was innocent... but there was so much evidence against her.

~ ~ ~

“Well, Hayden, Estrella doesn’t want to admit it, it seems. Can you sum this up for us?”

“O-Ok, Katelyn...”

“Hayden, please! You have to understand, this wasn’t me!”

“...”

This starts during the masquerade. At one point during the night, Yaretzi leaves with Vanessa to bring her back to her room. The killer notices this, and dashes away from their partner in what looked like their usual playful shenanigans, to follow Yaretzi in. When Yaretzi bid Vanessa goodnight and went to leave, the killer threw a punch, knocking Yaretzi off her feet. She used this moment of vulnerability to threaten Yaretzi into swapping places with them. They both had full masks that covered their whole face, and nobody would notice their slight height difference and slightly different voices when there was so much more going on in the area. Scared for her safety, Yaretzi agrees, dressing up as the killer while the killer donned their persona. With that, the killer sent Yaretzi back to the main hall, telling her not to say a word about this to anyone.

With this, our killer makes their way to the weaponry room, taking a blade and a gun, unsure which they’d use for the murder. From theirs they made their way to Vanessa’s room, which was unlocked due to the motive. Vanessa was already asleep, so to risk making too much noise, they chose to use the blade. To ensure the deed was done, they slit her throat for a quick death. Despite Vanessa being already dead, the killer kept slicing at them, over and over until they were satisfied. They pulled off the wig as it was most likely irritating them, and tucked their weapon away.

However, just as they put away their blade London walked by, seeing the scene in front of her. Panicking, the killer grabbed the gun since it was handier and shot her in the head. The noise of the gunshot was drowned out by the music blaring from the party. Just before London died though, without the killer noticing, they drew a dice in the wall to show who the killer was. To be safe, the killer out back on the wig as they fled the scene, chucking the weapons back where they were at the start of the night. They also pulled Yaretzi aside at some point to swap back, still threatening her to keep that to herself. With their goal accomplished, they returned to finish the rest of the night, their switch going completely unnoticed.

Isn’t that right...

Estrella Ouma, the Ultimate Leader’s Heir?!

“NO!”

~ ~ ~

“Guys... please don’t do this to me. My whole talent is about waiting and training to take over my Pops’ organisation. I haven’t done that yet, and if I don’t do that, then why was I even born?! I’m useless if I don’t keep going! All I’ll have been is an inconvenience! I can’t die, not yet! Please, please!”

“...well, if that’s done, I think it’s voting time! Everyone, please make a selection on the pad in front of you.”

“No... please... I didn't do it...”

Click.

Click. Click.

Click click click click click click click click click.

All of us put through our votes. 10 for Estrella, one for Yaretzi, one for Aeja. I had a feeling Aeja had voted for herself.

“NO! No, no, no, please no! This can’t be happening! I can’t fail Dad and Pops! I can’t die here and disappoint them!”

“You should have thought of that before you killed them, Ouma.”

“DON’T CALL ME OUMA!”

...

“Ouma is what people call my Pops. I hardly deserve to be an Ouma if I’m gonna die in some stupid game...”

She was still shaking, still in tears. She looked around at us all. I had my doubts about a lot of things, but it was too late now. Estrella had been voted guilty.

“Please... anyone... I really didn’t do this... If you kill me, you’ll be making the wrong choice!”

“...Monokuma, stop this. Do not execute Estrella, don’t-!”

“Uh uh uh! Sorry, copycat, but the votes are final! Now, if you’re done...”

“Aeja... thank you. You... you believe me, right?”

“...yeah. I do. I don’t think you killed them.”

‘Aeja-?”

“No, I don’t think Estrella killed anyone! I trust her, and you all should have trusted her too.”

“...you always were the smartest. If you ever escape, my dad would love to have someone like you at the detective agency. Even just stop by for me, ok? Tell them I love them. Tell them I’m innocent, tell them- tell them I said goodbye.”

‘E-Estrella...”

“I have a very special punishment prepared for Estrella Ouma, the Ultimate Leader’s Heir! If she even is that anymore, puhuhuhuhu!”

“A-and Aeja...”

“...*sniff*”

Aeja was crying too. Holy crap. I’d never even seen her shed a single tear.

“Thank you. For believing me when nobody else would.”

“IIIIIIIIIIT’S PUNISHMENT TIME!!!”

~ ~ ~

Estrella Ouma has been found guilty. 

Time for the punishment..!

[adiabolikpastelrp]

Unnamed Role Play

This is a role play between @remnants-of-tragedy and myself. It features her OCs Zion (daughter of Ruki and Hisoka) with my OC Kanaye (son of Kanato and Yuuki).

Status: Ongoing(?)

Word Count: –

ღ Warning: that this may contain content that may be unsuitable for some readers such as mature themes, strong language, adult situations, and sexual content

Quick note - This takes place in that 2 year gap between You Get It And One Final Push. So Kanaye is single, and is in kind of a rough place. ღ

♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ ♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ ♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ ♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧

Kanaye sat in the food court at the local mall. It was pretty busy considering it was a week night. Typically throughout the work and school days, not many humans came out.

For some reason or another, tonight was different and there were humans all around. Disappointing. He wanted to find someone easy and do all he needed to in the mall but, given the circumstances, plans may change.

It had been a few weeks since he’d been back in the human world. A good practice in keeping oneself a mystery to the locals. As a vampire Kanaye did not age the same. Human would notice if he was around too often.

With a deep sigh, Kanaye decides tonight the mall was not going to be successful. Just as he rose to leave, a scent catches his attention. A Mukami, Juliet perhaps? It did smell slightly like her. He decides to search out this scent, if it was her than some company may be nice.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Zion Mukami was beyond pissed.

A red dress under a black buttoned sweater, a pair of white high heels with straps around the ankles, and a long, curly, high ponytail wig.

It’s bad enough to be cross dressed as a girl by his sadist of a sister; But it’s even worse knowing that this is actually a necessity.

Recently, a female actress has fallen terribly ill, and cannot be able to perform her part; Thus the role was given to the human boy, which means he had to play out two different roles; Luckily, neither roles have a scene together as the female role was only a minor character with very few lines where his role was a bigger part. But it didn’t make him feel better that he had to learn to get used to wearing women’s clothing for the part.

This suggestion was brought up by his older sister, Juliet, who learned about this and forced him into wearing these clothes and put on this long wig that’s color perfectly matched his hair. Zion knew that his sister also forced their brother to cross dress in the past, he can only shudder at the thought of his poor older brother having to submit to it. And now that his older siblings were vampires, Zion can’t really imagine what would happen if he defied his sister; He had a feeling he would be forced to submit by Juliet, even if she was still human at this point in time.

“This sucks…” Zion mumbles to himself as he walked with bags in hand. They were supplies for the production. Once Zion volunteered to get them, the rest of the club members were grateful. But the praise became too much for the boy, which made him fluster and shrug it off with the excuse that it was only because he had nothing else left to do.

He begins to recall what his sister has told him when he started to complain about it.

“Your name gets mistaken as ‘Shion’, your voice is like a little tomboy’s, your face can pass off as a girl’s, and you’re already bitching like one too; So get over it already.”

“Damn it, Sis-“ Getting distracted, Zion trips on his heels and accidentally falling on his knees, dropping some of the things he bought. “Ow, ow, ow..!”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

As Kanaye walked through the crowed halls, the similar smell faded. Perhaps there were too many humans around. He could still catch small doses of the Mukami, but not much.

Not particularly taking the search seriously, Kanaye notices a young girl trip and drop her purchases. Without a second though Kanaye moved swiftly to her side and knelt down to pick up her belongings.

“Are you all right? Heels can be quite a bothersome accessory.”

He’d smile down at the much smaller female and offer her a hand. She was cute no doubt, but also seemed far too young for him. Even if in reality he was much older than anyone here.

“Might I help you up? I do hope your dress isn’t ruined.”

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Looking up to see the smile of the stranger, Zion sensed the hand offers to him belonged to a vampire’s from its aura. Making him jump back a bit and give the young man a look of distrust. From what he learned, you can’t act too casually with vampires; Especially ones you’ve just encountered for the first time.

‘Honestly I wish the dress was ruined, so I don’t have to wear it…’ He commented to himself. But he knew if he did, Juliet would force him into a short skirt since it was a dress she bought for herself but had him wear for ‘training’.

“I-I’m fine, thanks..” Zion commented, he got back up on his own, patting the dirt off the dress. He looked down and noticed the material were dropped, “O-oh no!” Kneeling down, The boy frantically checked the conditions of the materials to see if they were alright. He just got them, he didn’t want to damage them; They were for the production after all. Every shows in the drama club are very important to him!

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Kanaye was a bit confused why the girl rejected his hand. Normally women blush and accept the gesture. Before he could think on it too hard she was back on the ground.

“Would you like some help? Is anything damaged?”

It was simply his upbringing talking at this point. He was a gentleman after all. A young girl by herself could use a hand right?

“I could help you carry them. Are you here alone?”

Kanaye starts picking up some of the smaller objects. There were sewing supplies kind of all over the place.

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“Is there a problem with me being alone?” Zion questioned, puffing out his cheeks in frustration; He stopped when he noticed the vampire helping him, and gave a questioning look. ‘What was he doing?’ He thought, ‘What is he trying to gain out of this?’ This caused him to blush a bit.

“H-Hey Idiot.. you don’t have to help me, you know…” Zion assured, “I can carry everything myself.” He was always used to doing things himself, so why was this guy helping him? They don’t even know each other.

“…. What do you have to gain out of this?” Zion questioned bluntly, “Why are you helping me? You don’t even know me.” It was really weird for him. But this sudden act of kindness was just strange to the human boy.

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“When someone is in need, you help them.”

Kanaye answers warmly, offering the girl a smile. She must be used to doing things alone. A common trait that Kanaye often found in women in this age.

In the demon world, women act a bit differently. Those of Royal blood demand to be treated as such, even those not of it have some sense of entitlement. Human woman were always so different.

“Don’t worry so much about it. I’m not trying anything, simply helping.”

He stands up with a couple of bags in his hands. There were a couple for her to carry as well, he didn’t want to completely take over. Women who don’t normally receive help tend to not like doing no work.

“Lead the way, mistress.”

Kanaye says in a teasing tone and bows slightly. This girl was far too young for his taste, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t treat her as a princess. After all, young girls like that sort of thing right?

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“M-Mistress..?!” Zion gasped as his blush turned from light pink to red. Did.. Did this guy seriously believe he was a girl? ‘ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!!!!!!!!’ He exclaimed mentally. This actually hurt his pride as a man.

But in a way, it’s good? That also meant that he can pull off that female role without a problem, which is beneficial if they were short on female roles…

‘Wait! This isn’t the time for this!!!’ As much as Zion wanted to yell that he was a boy, it could also cause a scene. And plus, this guy might think the boy was into that kind of stuff. Maybe it was best not roll along with it? They weren’t going to meet again anyways.

“F-fine.. do whatever you want…” Zion turned away to hide his red face and started to walk once he carried the bags in hand, “But don’t call me that; It only reminds me of someone I know, and being reminded of them now only irritates me to no end.”

The person mentioned was none other than the one that forced him to do this. The She-devil sadist herself. His older sister. Once he got reminded of her, He could imagine her infamous devilish smirk. It made him shudder. ‘That damn sadist… How was Bro even able to deal with the likes of her?’

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Kanaye smiled at the young girls embarrassment. It was adorable really, why his own sister couldn’t be more like this was beyond him. Actually, it wasn’t really, he knew why. Their family was full of dark secrets, of this he knew all too well. His sister was the product of her upbringing, just as he and their brother.

Part of him as sad that his sister wasn’t more like this. He could use her to meet women for one thing. On the other- more appropriate hand- she could be a normal little girl. Like the one before him. He walked behind her silently for a while, before the silence grew too boring.

“What is all this for, might I ask? It’s a lot of sewing equipment yes?”

Perhaps she was into making costumes, after all, the one she was wearing was not exactly normal. Or an… what was the word again? He knew of human that enjoy dressing up as fictional characters, though the name escaped him.

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“They are supplies for the drama club in my school,” Zion answered, “There’s an actress that was suppose to play a role in our upcoming production, but she got really sick and is unable to perform her role; Since sizing is going to be an issue since her and I are obviously different in size; But we ran out of supplies and I had nothing better to do, so the responsibility in getting them was given to me.”

The human boy looked down to the dress he was wearing and glared as his cheeks flushed from embarrassment and pouted.

“So now I have to perform two roles; That girl’s role is a minor but I’m the only one whose role isn’t shared with her character’s, so I had no choice.” He sighed in irritation before he started to rant, “Now I have to wear this stupid, girly dress, so I can get used to that role, because a certain SOMEONE thought it would be funny to force me into it when they found out, only to watch me suffer and crush my pride for their own amusement.”

At this point, the human was only ranting, forgetting that the vampire helping him thought Zion was a girl. He was just so irritated that his pride as a man was being crumbled by not only this new role, but also by his own sister.

It was all just a nuisance!

Why him?!

WHY?! HIM?!

Finally, when he was done ranting, Zion breathed heavily.

He is just… so done…

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Well that was quite the rant, seemed the little princess had a temper. Still, he could understand being forced to do something one didn’t want to do.

“You should see it as a complement.”

They reached the exist and Kanaye stepped in front of the girl. He would never meet her again, so what was the point in wasting the opertunity to have a little fun.

“They must think highly of you, to trust you with two roles. I do not think it is so bad to have others put faith in you. Although, perhaps it is a lesson learned with years…”

He offers her bags back to her. She was cute but staying in the company of a young girl didn’t exactly help his situation of needing companionship. Her parents must be near or whomever drove to this location.

“Try not to dwell on the inconvience of it all.”

Smiling Kanaye kneels down to her heigh once more. It was fun to tease someone who reacted so cutely. Surely the small girl will grow into quite the looker, when that happens… well there were advantages to not aging like a human does.

“Good luck in your play, my lady.”

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Huh…?

Wha..?

Why was his heart beating fast the way it was right now?

Zion blushes from this and looked away after taking his bags back, “T-thanks… um…” At this point, he realized the boy realized he did not get his name, “S-sorry, I didn’t get—“

Almost as if it was the right moment, Juliet walked. “Well, well, well~ This is unexpected~” She smirked as the Now former human spotted quite the sight.

Seeing his sister unexpectedly, Zion blushed crimson red and glared, “W-WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!!!!” He busted out. But this didn’t stop the raven-haired girl from smirking wider. “Mother and Father asked me to pick you up and take you home.” She explained before turning her eyes to Kanaye, “Kanaye, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“W-wait…” Zion was now beyond confused, “Y-You know him?” He questioned further. “I met him while I was still human; He’s the brother of that bastard I told you about that I hate, but unlike him, Kanaye is way more tolerable.” Juliet answered before walking over behind Zion, placing a hand on his head with her smirk still in place.

“I see, you’ve finally met my little brother.” Juliet said, “Zion was a tough one to deal with, he tends to run hot-and-cold.”

Zion froze.

His mind was blank.

But once he was able to come to, the only thought that came to mind was:

‘SHE DID THAT ON FUCKING PURPOSE, THAT DAMN—!!!!!!!!!!’

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Well this was unforeseen, though the scent from before now made sense. So this girl was the source of the scent. A new sibling to this Muakmi clan, Juliet’s younger brother. Wait…

“Your… brother..?”

Kanaye looked at the girl before him. The same girl he had been helping, was actually a boy?! Now that he was looking closely, there were boyish features about her. Feeling embarrassed beyond all reason, Kanaye stands up, a light blush on his face.

“I see… Forgive me. This entire time I’d been treating you in such a way.”

He glances over at Juliet, no doubt this was the person the young boy spoke of in a rage.

“Juliet Mukami, I take it you are responsible for placing your brother in this situation? Young Zion Mukami, please forget what I said before. Your sister truly does have a strange sense of humor.”

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“He wouldn’t really have much of a choice, if you think about it.” Juliet retorted, with her stoic expression returned, “He was going to play the role of a girl; His name, his features, even his personalities is similar to a girl’s; I figured it would be good practice for him to get used to wearing girl clothes for the role, if he wants to make the show a success.”

Zion was just utterly embarrassed. If it was Leon, he would’ve not embarrass him like this. ‘BUT IT JUST HAD TO BE THE SHE-DEVIL HERSELF!!!!’

“But at least it was able to fool you, right Kanaye Sakamaki? You looked rather flustered upon realizing Zion was actually a boy.” Juliet smirked once again, “I would say I am quite proud of my work.”

“S-shut up…! L-Let’s just go home already, you damn sadist!” Zion cursed, before glancing to Kanaye and stuttered, “S-so..s-s-sorry…”

“Also, strange sense of humor? I beg to differ on that remark.” The raven-haired Vampire gave the Sakamaki a questioning look, “By the way, what are you doing here?”

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Kanaye attempts to keep his embarrassment un-noticed. Leave it to Juliet Mukami to point it out. Although, she did have a point, the young Mukami boy did look quite adorable. Poor thing, his pride must be all but shattered at this point, he certainly didn’t help by acting as though he were a girl.

“I was in the mood to eat, when I caught your scent. Appeared to be your sibling instead. He needed assistance so, that is what I was currently doing.”

He glances down at the smaller Mukami. This one was human as well, how fascinating it must be, to be human in a world full of vampires.

“I offer my apologies, Zion Mukami. Your attire is most convincing, although that must not feel like a compliment.”  

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“Ah, that’s because the dress Zion’s wearing is actually mine.” Juliet explained as she continued to look at him blankly, “It was either that dress or a mini-skirt; See, I was nice enough to give him a choice.”

‘It was definitely NOT a choice at all!!!’ Zion facepalmed before mumbling out, “It doesn’t feel like one..” Ignoring her brother for a moment, the raven-haired vampire suggested, “Well, if you’re still kind of bored, I’ve got nothing better to do later after dropping little Zion off; So if you’re up for it, after I drop him off, We can hang out. It’s been a while since I’ve been out anyways, and I don’t mind keeping you company.”

As the human boy heard this, he can confirm it was quite true. After becoming a vampire and standing beside Thomas, her husband, Juliet has been spending most of her time together in the castle and has been dedicating her time taking care of her new responsibilities as Queen; This must be one of the rare times she can be out like this.

The more he thought about that, the more he began to think how hard it must’ve been for both his older brother and sister as they now have lives of their own, and cannot spend time together as much as they used to after growing up together as close as two peas in a pod.

“Hey Juliet, I’m ready to go when you are. I want to get out of this stupid dress already.” Zion said, before stealing glances to Kanaye.

Seriously? Why was his heart pounding? What did this weirdo do to him?!

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Kanaye looks the dress over again. Juliet… owned and possibly wore something like this? The actual thought of it almost made him shiver. It did not suite her, then again, it was hard to see Juliet Mukami as a female.

“I wouldn’t mind accompanying you. Do we have to get in one of those… vehicles?”

He was not a fan of cars. It was something that the Demon World did not have. In this world however, they are everywhere.

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“You’re saying that as if I’m a bad driver.” Juliet cocked her head to the side before assuring the male vampire, “I’m actually a pretty good driver; I was taught by Father and I was the one that helped teach Leon, so don’t worry about it.”

Her blue orbs looked to Zion and noticed the glances her little brother took of Kanaye, and her eyes narrowed. “Are you ready?” She questioned. “Y-yeah.. I want to get out of this damn thing already..” he mumbled. “Alright perfect; Now you sit in the back like a good, little princess.” She smirked as her brother’s face turned bright red in anger and embarrassment.

“S-shut up…!” He just can’t wait to go home. This was the most embarrassing thing in his entire life. His own sister crushed his pride as a man. In front of someone he just met. ‘I wanna die already..!’

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Kanaye laughed a bit watching the two of them. Siblings always proved to be entertaining. He could not see his own siblings behaving as such, nor himself. As different as they maybe to most, Kanaye believed his family fit the way it was meant to.

“No insult meant, I simply detest vehicles.”

Kanaye followed Juliet with Zion do her car, and helped load the bags inside. Since Juliet had instructed her brother to the back, that left him in the front.

“I beg of you to prove that statement from before.”

It was not as if he was afraid of crashing. A car crash would not kill a vampire, it was more the whole moving aspect. It tended to weigh on his stomach, and it was not a feeling Kanaye enjoyed.

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“If you want, I can keep your mind off the road by telling you all the embarrassing stuff about Zion.” Juliet smirked. “That isn’t helping anyone!” The human boy growled. “I’m helping Sakamaki Kanaye; You’re not the one that’s isn’t comfortable with cars, so you be quiet.” Juliet bluntly stated, making Zion silent.

“But like I said, I’m an expert driver. You don’t have to worry about anything; When it comes to driving, you can actually trust me.” Juliet stated as she got in the black car with her brother going in the back, before starting up the car itself. “This is my baby. It is a 2017 Toyota Prius; It was a gift and I’m not allowing anyone else to drive it.” Juliet proudly said.

Zion sweat dropped, “So you don’t even let Aniki drive it?” He questioned. “Whenever I have him the offer, he declines; And he was right to always decline.” His sister answered. “Hey Kanaye, did you know, despite how girly he looks, Zion always gets the main roles in the productions he always auditions for? There was one role he played well at and it reminded me of you for some reason.”

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Kanaye couldn’t help smiling. Just as he found Spencer and his siblings amusing, Juliet Mukami and hers were just as entertaining. The bond of true siblings, must be nice.

“Remind you of me? Now why would a character do something like that?”

To be honest, Kanaye appreciated the attempt to calm his nerves. Auto mobile were truly nerve wrecking.

♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ To Be Continued ♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧  

[purplexflamingo]

  Countless hours and days roll by and I still don't know where I am. But that is the least of my concern. I am free of the world that I'd grown to hate so much. Coated with sheer judgement cast upon others by the wickedest men known to man. Not to mention my family had become much like them, much to my own despair. Though I remained different and they've hated me for that. Licking my index finger I pinched the corner of the page I was reading, ready for the next. It was a dusty old novel, I was unable to make out a date for it. It was interesting enough to grab my attention some how while I remained on the couch alone. The television serving as background noise at the current moment. Humming about the news involving the government, it was irritating. Eventually the printed words started to blur as my eye lids grew heavier each time I blinked. Soon surrendering myself to a much needed slumber.

 Awaking to the sound of foot steps and furniture shifting. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I tried to focus, the light above me temporarily blinding me. Letting out a small groan as I then forced myself to sit up, using the back of the couch to lean on. Squinting until my sight would come to. 

" Did I wake you?"

 A familiar voice questioned. It was an indication that V had returned from whatever it was he was always running off to do. That being said, I was never in the dark about any of it. I knew exactly what his stance was and his goals. It amazed me how motivated he was, years worth of research. Taking a moment I got lost in his words before coaxing out my response.

" I needed to wake up anyways."

When I was able to fully see my surroundings I noticed the masked man had sprawled out what appeared to be a checkered blanket on the center of the floor. Upon it rests two plates and a weaved basket too. Giving me a general idea of what he was attempting to do.

" I planned to wake you once I was prepared, I am almost done."  

  V then motioned to the empty plates before dismissing himself to attempt to what I'd assume he was cooking in his kitchen area. Summoning strength I rose to my feet making my way to the blanket where I proceeded to sit. Fingers gliding across the fabric when waiting for him to return. A smile creeping across my face as I felt my cheeks warm. It's such a sweet arrangement and clearly he put some thought into it. All eyes on him as he returned with what appeared to be food, sandwiches that he placed on our plates.

" Is this like some sort of indoor picnic?"

" I've never had one, but I do hope...my efforts prevailed."

 Joining me he sat not too close, but close. It was a sweet gesture and I did appreciate it. But I couldn't help yet wonder how he planned to eat his share as he wore his mask. Never have I seen what is underneath nor has he ever told me why he hides his identity. Months living here he had never been mask less. Cocking my head to the side, I tried to be careful with my words. Curiosity getting the better of me.

" Thank you, this is all wonderful, but may I ask how are you going to eat with that mask of yours on?"

  From the looks of it, I caught him off guard entirely. They way he paused made me wonder what expression he displayed under that fawkes mask. In some way I hoped I did not offend him at all. It was all romantic and surely he meant well, here I am trying to ruin it. Quickly I attempted to retract my question.

" I am sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

" No, you are fine......I nearly forgot. Perhaps I'll eat later. You on the other hand must be hungry. Go on eat."

 Raising his gloved hand seemed to quiet me down. I couldn't help to not feel a sense of discomfort, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I swallowed before I pressed the issue a little further. Hoping he'd see my good intentions. Shifting closer, I propped myself on my knees. Fists balled and resting on my thighs. Convincing myself to look directly at his mask, those dark holes. Out of the corner of my eye I could notice his breathing increase by his chest movements.

 Was he distressed? worried?

" V, you know....you can trust me. You already know I'd never judge you and I don't have a reason to. I stayed for six months because I really like you and nothing could possibly change this. I won't let it happen. You make me feel safe."

" Remember me as I am. Underneath I am no longer flesh....certainly not a sight to see. Not a sight I'd want you to remember me by. I do not wish to frighten you, not before you've eat. Now you mustn’t feel bad for me."

 With what confidence I could muster I inched even closer to him, merely closing the gap between us. Alarming the mysterious man to an extent as he seemed to be taken back. Cupping the sides of his face hoping to convey my feelings through my actions. Leather gloved hands hovered over mine. The contact alone made the hairs on my arm stand up straight leaving goosebumps. Repeating myself, reminding him nothing will ever change.

" You wear your mask in the comfort of your own home..it must be suffocating. Allow yourself to breath.."  

 Silence rolled by again, it was difficult to read him given his hidden face. Directly making me wonder if I over stepped my own boundaries. He could be gravely upset with me at this point and I can’t even tell. Thus my body began to tremble slightly as I was mortified. I never wanted to cause him harm or hurt him. Perhaps my mind began to reel at how uncomfortable he must be. Tears swelling as the feeling consumed me, causing me to sniffle right after. This bringing a reaction out of him.

" Are you....crying?"

 There was a hint of confusion in his words. Once being asked I wanted to remove my hands, but he latched on to my wrists keeping them there- acknowledging me. Blinking several times I hoped to rid some of the water that blurred my vision. By now I was full on red. My emotions tend to overwhelm me at times. I owed him a response that he patiently awaited.

" I am sorry. I feel I've made you uncomfortable and that is the last I wanted to do. I've burdened you and caused enough trouble. I feel awful...but I just....love you so much. I want to be with you, the real you."

 As he loosened his grip my right hand traveled across his mask hovering over the lips, outlining them. By then my heart rapidly pulsed and I was panting between words and sobs. Again I fell quiet on his behalf. Maybe even to him I am dreadfully perplexing. Which I would greatly understand. Expelling a soft sigh muffled by his mask.

" Promise me you won't flee. I've grown....fond of you. It'd hurt me if I frighten you."

“ I promise, you have my word.” 

 Allowing my hands to fall from his the plastic Fawkes face. My eyes watched as he lifted the back of his wig up to untie the mask. I was able to detect some hesitation, but he didn’t stop. Gently lifting the mask from his face, obstructing my view for a moments time before soon exposing himself. I found myself lost staring at him. This was who he was under the mask, much like he claimed he had no name-- in away he had no face. His skin was burnt, resembling what doctors would call third degree burns. Much like his mask, he had no eyes. How was he able to see? As I found myself lost looking at him he hung his head a little, which snapped me out of thought. Causing me to feel as if I were rude. A couple more tears streamed down my face. For a moment perhaps he felt vulnerable. 

“ Thank you, thank you for trusting me. This is important to me. You are astonishing, you are many great things. You just amaze me. To me you are beautiful....And here I go rambling. No seriously...I’ve never felt strongly about anyone. I promise I am not going anywhere.”

I had a rough indication he was listening by his small movement of lifting his head. Trying to follow my quick pace. But who was I to ever stop him from whatever he felt comfortable with. Before I could give him a chance to speak. Unable to contain myself I leaned in for a kiss. For once his lips were against my own. It felt right to me, I wanted to shudder at the contact. If I am correct he did return the kiss, it was gentle. 

“ Forgive me, I am attempting to gather my thoughts at the moment. I’ve never expected to be in a situation as this. Your heart..you’re different then most. You find beauty in even the most repulsive things..You certainly are baffling. But I am glad you are wanting to stay. Your company is most delightful.” 

[diamondsareapearlsbestfriend]

Deck the Halls With Doom

ZADR // 1.4k // based on this holiday classic // AO3

By now, Dib was pretty used to being woken up in the middle of the night by the thwack of something hitting his window – tacos, rubber pigs, rocks with Irken profanities – but were those flowers? That was a new one.

Grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, he stumbled out of bed and down the stairs, pulling his coat on over his pyjamas as he opened the door – and stepped right into a thick blanket of mistletoe. The entire street was covered in the stuff; it hung from every window and doorway, falling off roofs and clogging up chimneys. And it didn’t take long to figure out where it was coming from: merrily ploughing through the leaf-filled road was some kind of tank with three rotating cannons, ruthlessly pumping out mistletoe under the questionable command of a very familiar-looking...

“Zim?”

“Ah! Dib-stink!” His alien nemesis waved like the world’s worst Christmas float, eyes lighting up with malicious glee. “You’re just in time to witness Zim’s complete and total annihilation of your miserable dirt-clod!”

“With mistle – whoa!” Dib just managed to duck before a bullet-like barrage of mistletoe smacked him in the face, hitting the door instead. “Didn’t you already try the whole stealing Christmas thing?” Even by Zim’s twisted logic, this was a weird way to do it. It was a big mess, sure, and could probably cause a couple road accidents, but unless all the mistletoe was rigged to explode, this was way down the list of diabolical schemes.

Zim seemed satisfied, however, as he hopped off the vehicle, looking over his leafy kingdom proudly with his hands on his hips. “Take the wheel, GIR!”

“I would, buuut I eated it!” GIR yelled, waving cheerfully as he dangled from one of the cannons from the tail of his dog disguise.

“...Yes.” Zim pursed his lips, only looking briefly concerned as the tank and GIR rolled out of sight before turning his attention back to Dib's question. “So it may seem, to inferior minds like yours! But that was –”

“...a total failure?”

“Only phase one of my master plan!” he continued, undeterred. “As soon as the rest of your fellow Earth-monkeys step outside, they will have no choice but to fight, as the mistle-foe dictates! Before long, they’ll destroy each other, and your pathetic planet will surely perish at the merciless hands of Zim!”

Well, that made...even less sense than usual. Dib lifted a sceptical eyebrow. “Zim, how does that even – do you think people fight under mistletoe?”

“Eh?” Zim paused mid-maniacal cackle, his eyes narrowing in irritation. “Obviously! Are you unfamiliar with the pointless practices of even your own kind, Dib-worm? What other function could this mistle-foe possibly serve?”

Dib just stared at him for a moment, and then he started to laugh – and couldn’t stop, thanks to the increasing bewilderment of Zim’s expression, until he was doubled over, clutching his sides and cackling like a madman. “Oh my god, Zim, you – you are the galaxy’s biggest idiot!”

For a split second, Zim looked genuinely crestfallen, his face crumpling to a puzzled pout before he let out a strangled kind of growl. 

“Cease the bellowing of your stinky meat-hole!” he demanded, kicking up mistletoe as he marched over. “Impossible! Then what is the purpose of these plants? Explain yourself, human!”

“Okay, okay…” Dib took a deep breath, managing to compose himself. “First of all, it’s not like I invented mistletoe. And actually what most people call mistletoe isn’t technically – but anyway, not the point. You’re supposed to – I mean, people usually…” He cleared his throat, laughter petering out as he felt his face grow warm under the unrelenting laser beam of Zim’s eyes. “Kiss.”

“...Kiss?!” Zim echoed, recoiling in horror as his face contorted into a grimace like he’d just stepped on a Lego and bit into a lemon at the same time. “You’re lying!”

“Why would I make that up?!”

“Zim sees straight through your ruse, Dib-filth!” He jabbed an accusing claw into Dib’s chest, although it wasn’t quite as intimidating now the top of his wig barely came up to his chin. “You’ve wanted this for a long time, haven’t you?”

“I...what?” Was he actually saying – man, this was starting to feel way too much like one of Dib’s more...confusing dreams, scarlet now blazing across his face to the tips of his ears. “That’s insane – I mean, more insane than usual! I don’t wanna kiss you!” Zim would probably be a terrible kisser anyway – not that he’d thought about it before, and he definitely wasn’t thinking about it now and they needed to terminate this conversation immediately.

“Is that so?” Zim took a step closer, barely an inch now between them. Dib tensed, a shiver that maybe wasn’t strictly the cold tingling down his spine as Zim placed a hand on his shoulder, his expression shifting into a smirk that was both dangerously familiar and new in a way he couldn’t quite explain. “Then how do you explain...this!” 

“Ow - quit it!” Before Dib could pull away, Zim reached up and yanked at his hair, throwing a sprig of mistletoe back in his face with totally unjustified triumph. “Oh, c’mon – you just shot me with that!”

Zim scoffed as if to say yeah, right, but he still didn’t move out of Dib’s space. “The mistle-foe has spoken! We will battle – with our mouths!”

“That’s stupid and there’s no way I’mmmmph...!”

Dib was abruptly and painfully cut off as Zim seized him by the collar and pulled him down, sinking his sharp teeth straight into his bottom lip. He let out a muffled yelp, instinctively grabbing Zim’s jaw in an attempt to prise him off, but somehow they melted into – well, a kiss, heated and messy, way too much teeth and tongue. Zim’s hand snaked around Dib’s shoulder to the nape of his neck, digging his claws into the tender spot right on the threshold of pain and pleasure; Dib slid his hand up to tangle in Zim’s crappy wig, feeling for his antennae and tugging in retaliation. 

Zim made a noise like nothing he’d never heard before, something between a moan and a chirp that vibrated against Dib’s lips and huh okay that was definitely new but also kind of not-terrible and – oh – oh no...

They broke apart, holding an uncomfortable moment of eye contact. Zim blinked, eyes wide and an olive flush dusting his cheeks, silent for maybe longer than Dib had ever heard him, which was somehow both unsettling and weirdly satisfying. His wig was askew, a hint of antennae poking out until he tugged it back into place. Finally, he spoke:

“Ha! I win!”

“Wha – huh…” Dib felt like his brain was buffering, still struggling to process the fact that he just kissed Zim, or Zim kissed him, and the throbbing in his lower lip made him at least 99.5% sure this wasn’t a dream. “You didn’t win! How do you even reach that conclusion?”

Zim stuck his tongue out at him, the amusement dancing in his eyes only adding insult to injury. “You pulled away first.”

“No I didn’t! I mean – ugh – that’s not how this –” Dib groaned, dragging both hands through his hair and over his face. He should probably be freaking out more about this. He should at least move away, because it was probably some weird alien pheromones making him wonder what other noises he could get Zim to make, and before he could do something really dumb like – “Fine. You wanna go again?”

There’d be time for freakouts later, hours of analysis and dissection to determine exactly how doomed he was.

But right now, ankle-deep in mistletoe with no shoes on at 4am, Dib had both a score to settle and a surprisingly effective way of shutting Zim up.

So maybe Christmas miracles really were a thing, after all.