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singswan-springswan · 2 years

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Mama mia, here I go again!

It was a woeful day for the New York Bell Company. Not for any particularly disastrous reason, really, but Peggy was on sick leave. Which meant no one was taking lunch orders. Jack knew Peggy wasn’t really sick—he knew she was actually out shopping—but he wasn’t a snitch, so he said nothing when the wave of complaints washed through the office at eleven-thirty sharp. SSR agents were a punctual bunch, if not the most organized. They probably could have assigned the classic Marge-Duty to some green recruit, but no one thought to do it until the desks had been wholly vacated.

Everyone went off in their own way, hunting down whatever lunch option they fancied most. A good majority of the agents filtered out to delis, cafés, or other quick orders they could carry back to work, but Jack had a lengthy break, since he’d be working a late shift. So he had time to decide.

After a brisk lap around the block, and a leisurely taxi ride, Jack eventually plopped himself in a foamy-green booth at the local automat. Looking around, he found he remembered the place. Peggy slugged him unconscious in the back alley here. Quaint.

In any case, this joint had an offensive color scheme—which meant the service was bound to be sub-par, and the food either divine or poor at best. It was worth a try. Jack had time to kill, anyway. He didn’t look forward to returning to his cases yet. They’d reached a dreadfully boresome stage.

Tossing his jacket on the booth beside him, Jack settled in and propped a menu between his hands. This was a very basic automat, it seemed. Nothing here had surprised him yet. He’d been made uncomfortable, yes (these booths were not decent lounge material), and disenchanted (he could count the water marks on the ceiling with both hands), but nothing had yet caught his eye in an especially positive way.

“By gosh! Agent Seal Man!”

Jack jumped in surprise. He may or may not have banged his knee against the bottom of the table. But men don’t feel pain, so he pretended nothing happened haha. “Ah!” The menu fell flat with a crisp slap.

A young woman had materialized at the end of the booth. Her simple uniform matched the horrid colors of the furniture around the diner, and her honeyed hair was pulled into smart curls away from her fair face. She had a bright sparkle in her skylight eyes.

Jack was tempted to groan. “Angie?” He ground out instead. Of course it was just luck that she worked here, of all the possible places in New York for a girl like her to work.

She flashed him a winning smile, clearly pleased. “That’s my name, sugar! What brings you to this part of town?”

Was she serious? Why was she being so amiable? So chipper? They weren’t old friends. Sure, they’d come to a very personal and mutual agreement that one time on the beach, but it didn’t mean they had a special bond. Jack would like to avoid her if he could, despite maybe possibly finding her to be fun company. Would it be rude to get up and walk out now? He still had plenty of time to find a new place to eat.

But the thought of Angie’s crestfallen expression made him hesitate. For whatever reason, she did express genuine warmth towards him, and he sensed that she’d take it to heart if he behaved boorishly. Then she would no doubt act callous in any future encounters, and though her promise ensured her physical incapacity to spill his secret, there were certainly other ways for her to spite him. She’d probably tattle to Peggy. Then Jack would be in for a long-haul of suffering.

So his arse stayed planted in the booth. But he wasn’t happy about it. With a resigned wince, he scooped up the menu again and tapped it against the tabletop. “Lunch break.” He sighed, closing his eyes to gather what meager patience he had.

“Well fancy that!” She whipped out a pad and pen. “Can I get’cha started with something to drink?”

“A tall glass of peace and quiet.” He grumbled.

She scribbled a quick note. “Large black coffee, sure thing. Ready to order yet?”

At least she was to-the-point. Jack wasn’t sure he had the energy to handle a lengthy conversation with her. By the time he’d finished his delicious reuben sandwich, she’d wasted no time mincing her words with him, giving his booth the space he’d requested. It was a gesture he hadn’t expected, but immensely appreciated nonetheless. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all—even if Angie was here.

“All finished, darling?” She swooped out of the blue to collect his empty plate.

“Sure.” He frowned. “Don’t call me that.”

Pausing for once, Angie gave him a curious look, raising one brow in a high arch. “Well, I’ve gotta call you something. Would you prefer ‘sir’? Or ‘mister’?”

Jack couldn’t help making a face. She was patronizing him on purpose, he was certain. “Please don’t.”

Her lips quickly twitched into an easy smile. “How about ‘sailor’? You served in the navy, isn’t that right?”

“I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“I think it suits you.”

“Angie…”

“Say, this is quite a lengthy lunch break you’re on. Got time for dessert?”

Jack was very tempted to say no. He didn’t really want to spend longer in this automat than what could be considered strictly polite. But he didn’t have to be back at the office for another half hour. And he was craving something sweet. If this place’s pastries were half as good as the rest of their food, he wouldn’t mind suffering Angie’s presence for a little while longer.

“...I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

She brightened. “Right on!” Without warning, she looped her free arm through his and pulled him to his feet. “Choose from the wall over here. We’ve got the best pies.”

Jack made a mild noise of protest at being towed around. He really shouldn’t be surprised by it, at this point. Angie was one spontaneous soul.

“Do seals like pie?”

Jack made a point of scowling at the glass instead of Angie, though he doubted the attention would deter her. “I’m not a seal.” He gruffed.

“Right, right.” She cleared her throat and shuffled his dishes off to a nearby busser.

The key-lime slice looked decent, but Jack wasn’t in the mood for merengue. Maybe an apple? Did they have apple pie? Yes, there. The top right. A nickel for the apple pie. Angie snuck a coin in the slot before Jack could even think to dig through his pockets.

“But you are a fair swimmer.” She popped the drawer open and pulled the dessert out. “My treat.” Was her simple explanation when he looked at her confused. “You must go swimming often, right?”

“Thanks.” Jack curtly accepted the plate. “No.”

“Oh no?”

“I’m busy.” He said shortly.

“Oh.” Was that pity on her pretty face? Disgusting. “What a shame. I figured… you enjoy it.”

“Yes.” He swiveled on his heels and wandered back towards his booth.

“Aw gee!” That was definitely pity. “Come on over, sailor.” She took his arm again and pulled him to the counter. Jack had resigned himself to her attentiveness.

Under her dotage, he plopped onto a bar stool and set his pie down. Angie procured a hefty tub of whipped cream. She proceeded to generously dollop his plate with the heavenly white fluff, disregarding the frowns from her coworkers. “You tell me when to quit.” Was her mandate.

Just to spite her, Jack stayed silent until his pie was buried. She soon stopped and gave him a questioning look.

“Dear me, sailor. Lighten up! Don’t you like pie?”

“Sure, when I’m not being pampered.” To be honest, he enjoyed the attention. He just didn’t like why he was getting it. Angie was only acting this way because of her fascination with his selkie nature—there could be no other explanation. And even though she couldn’t tell anyone about it, the scrutiny was still a little unnerving.

She frowned. For a moment, she said nothing, then, “You need more friends.”

Jack lurched back with a sputter. “Excuse me?”

“I’m only trying to be nice, and you’ve got no idea how to handle it.”

“Now hang on—”

An unimpressed look was all he got.

“If you’re just going to insult me, I’ll take this back to my booth.” Why did she have to say that? Jack had plenty of friends, though most were fair-weather and shallow at best. Besides, even if he didn’t, her criticism wasn’t the least bit convincing him to change that. He scooped up his plate of whipped cream and spun on his heel.

And his gut bottomed out.

For a lengthened period of time, he stood there frozen, frowning at the booth he’d previously occupied, trying to recall with a furious alarm whether he’d actually been sitting somewhere else…

“Forgot where you were?” Angie drawled helpfully.

Jack stepped back, elbow bumping the counter, slowly setting his plate down with the steadiest hands he could manage. Surely he was mistaken. Surely he wasn’t looking hard enough. But his memory was crystal clear, and he knew that that was his spot, but it was empty and his deep, slow breaths were losing more of their effect the longer he blinked and clenched his jaw.

“My jacket’s gone.”

“Hmm?”

Jack turned to her perhaps a little too urgently. He noted her perplexion, then whipped back around in hopes of freshening his view. It didn’t work. There was no jacket at the table where he’d been sitting. It wasn’t on the ground, it wasn’t in any of the adjacent booths, it wasn’t in the arms of another customer lingering about the room. It was gone. Along with the man who’d been eating behind Jack. He’d had a shifty air about him.

“My jacket—” Jack crossed the distance with long strides, placing a fast grip on the seatback for emphasis. “Wasn’t I sitting here?”

When he looked, Angie was then sporting concern upon her pretty brow. She drifted around the bar to pace closer. “Yes, that’s right. Did you leave it in the booth?”

He had, only leaving it alone to get up for the pie… “I didn’t move it.” He insisted.

Angie propped her hands on her hips. “Huh.”

Jack tried to even out his breathing. How could he be so inattentive? How could he not have noticed suspicious personnel in the diner? Why did he have to turn his back for even a moment? Why did he indulge Angie? He should have known better than that! Now his jacket could be on its way miles from him, with a person he didn’t know, and he might never see it again! This was horrible!

“Someone must have taken it.” Angie said regretfully.

The unmistakable pinching pressure in Jack’s chest affirmed her statement. Already, his whole body itched with a compelling desire to comply, and submit, and relegate himself to freaking servitude—and he was very much not a fan.

“I hope you didn’t have any valuables in there.”

Jack scrambled to pull his wallet out. He tossed a ten on the table. “I have to find it. That jacket is priceless.”

“Family heirloom?”

He had his keys, his hat, yes. Everything was in order. The pie would have to be left behind. “No. It’s a little more important than that.”

Angie jolted out to grab his arm before he could run for the door. “Hang on, sailor. Just wait a minute. You’re about to have a heart attack.” She squinted at his pallor. “Try breathing.”

Jack scowled at her. Forget manners; he’d much rather risk the wrath of Peggy than lose his skin for good. “Let go!” He hissed. “This is serious!”

“It’s only a coat.”

“It’s my coat.” He managed to jerk free. She tailed him straight out the door.

“I know that! But surely panicking won’t solve the issue.”

“I’m not panicking.” He huffed through gritted teeth. It was halfway a lie.

“You’re not likely to find it. Anyone could have it now.”

“Too bad. I’m trying anyway.”

“Why?”

Jack shot a glare over his shoulder. She was still following him, right down the street in her turquoise uniform and low black heels. Concern and confusion shone clear on her dollish face.

“It’s my skin.” He snapped. “My seal skin. The only one I have.”

His answer didn’t change her expression much, but she didn’t hesitate. “I’ll help you look.”

The immediacy of her reply caught Jack off guard. Arguably, he didn’t need her help. Whoever had his jacket must be close—close enough for him to sense a pull from the bottom of his sternum—and if he was quick, he should be able to track them down. Besides, wasn’t Angie in the middle of a shift? She’d walked out of work like it was nothing.

“I don’t need your help.”

“But you could use it.” She insisted. “Listen, I don’t know much about selkies, so just fill me in. It’ll be more efficient if there are two of us.”

There were many holes in her claim, starting primarily with the fact that she was a woman and therefore not intimidating to a gutsy thief. She was also a civilian and had no formal training when it came to street sweeps. She had no idea how important this coat was. She had no idea what sort of effect it had on Jack. How could she possibly help him?

But she wasn’t going to leave him. Some small, shriveled, and pathetically neglected shadowy recess of his mind took comfort in that thought.

With a reluctant swallow, he pushed the bitter comments on his tongue further down and acknowledged Angie with a small nod.

“It changes shape.” He muttered. “It might not be a jacket anymore.”

Angie took it in stride. Once again, she looped their arms together and marched along the sidewalk. “Alright, will any part of it look the same?”

“The color. And the texture. It’ll still be glossy, like a skin.”

“Is it really seal skin?”

“Yes. I can’t shift without it.”

That earned him a cynical side-eye. “You’re stuck as a human without it?”

“Unfortunately.”

She cringed in sympathy, which surprised Jack a little bit. “How long can you go without it?”

“Technically forever, but it’s not pleasant. Especially if it’s in someone else’s possession.”

“Why does that make a difference?”

He hesitated to tell her. A good deal of people who knew anything about selkies knew this key tidbit of information, and finding someone ignorant was a little bit refreshing. At the same time, Angie seemed like the stubborn type. If he didn’t tell her, she’d find out. Besides. She’d treated him well. There was a good chance she wouldn’t use the knowledge against him in any truly harmful manner—and even if she did, Jack liked to think Peggy’s vengeance worked both ways. (Neither of his assertions were solid in the least bit. But that was nothing new).

“I have a compelling urge to obey whoever has it.”

“What do you mean?” She fired back quickly, not missing a beat. “Don’t you have a choice?”

“It’s kinda hard to resist.”

“Then we’d better find it quickly.”

Her cool temperament impressed him, though he’d never admit as much out loud. Jack sincerely appreciated the readiness she exuded.

“Do you have any sort of connection to it?” She thought to wonder.

“A little. I have a sense of when it’s close.”

“And?”

“I think it’s still close.”

“I’m sorry I waltzed you around the automat. That man probably wouldn’t have taken it if I didn’t keep you for so long.”

In truth, Angie was nowhere near at fault. Jack had allowed himself to be distracted by her. He’d let his guard down, he’d turned his back, and now he was dealing with the consequences. “Don’t worry about it.” He muttered.

“How close are we talking here? Three blocks? Two?”

“Probably five. If he was smart, he’ll hail a cab and book it. Let’s hope he left his brains at home today.”

They ended up parting halfway down the street. Jack had doubts about Angie’s ability to identify his skin—and even more about the contingent scenario in which she acquired it but refused to give it up—but he knew he was in a tight spot, and he had to cut his losses. She could still potentially be useful. He couldn’t afford to become further distracted by his loyal anxieties. If he didn’t find his skin soon—well, he’d rather not think about it. The minimal fear of losing his real form forever was enough motivation to hone his focus.

It seemed close to hours passing as he combed the streets, scanning every alley, every window, every open door. He felt like a looney and looked like one too, but he didn’t care. He knew his skin was close. The steady pressure in his chest confirmed it. But he had very little sense of direction, and every second that passed only added to his growing panic, until he was skipping every other step, almost at a broken run.

By some miracle, the pounding of his heart didn’t ruin his hearing. It was Angie’s voice, down an adjacent alleyway, loud and agitated. Jack scrambled towards the sound. The twinge in his chest tweaked.

“I’m not messing around! Hand it over!”

A thickly accented voice gruffed back. “What the heck is wrong with you, lady?”

“That doesn’t belong to you.”

“It don’t belong to you either!”

“Give it!”

“You’re out of your mind!”

Jack turned the corner just in time to appreciate the scene. The man from the booth behind him at lunch was enclosed there, pink in the face and scowling (Angie had that effect on people, it seemed). And there, draped over one arm, Jack’s skin hung limp and lifeless—still a jacket by some wonder.

Angie had boxed the man in with unapologetic authority. Jack skidded to a halt behind her.

Without warning, she swooped down and snatched an empty Smirnoff bottle off the ground. She smashed it on the wall, not hesitating a second to jab her new weapon at the thief with fire in her eyes.

“Listen here, mister! I’m not playing games! Either you give me the jacket now or I—”

“Woah woah, easy!” Jack decided to make his presence known with a firm hand to Angie’s shoulder. Not the smartest move, since she almost cut him in the face before she saw it was him. But Jack wasn’t notorious for restraint. “I’m sure there’s no need for violence.”

“You!” The man spat angrily.

“Yes, me.” Hopefully projecting a laid-back, collected ease on top of his volatile anxiety would give Jack the upper hand in this situation. In any case, he wasn’t trusting Angie to remain calm. She still looked like she’d commit battery at the drop of a hat. Jack kept a solid grip on her. “Sorry for the trouble, but I believe you have something of mine.”

The man jabbed a finger at Jack. “You back off!” He ordered.

A profound urge to cease speaking to the perp and walk away washed through Jack’s bloodstream, much to his annoyance. He held his ground with clenched teeth.

“Don’t tell him what to do!” Angie barked right back, brandishing her glass. She strained against Jack’s hold. “You dirty piece of scum! Just give him his coat!”

Boldly (stupidly), the man raised his chin. “And what if I don’t?”

“I’ll mess you up!”

Jack squeezed hard. “Alright, angel, let’s take it easy.”

She made a cute, indignant noise.

“This poor chap doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.”

“What are you talking about?” The thief demanded.

But Jack still found himself unable to speak in his direction, so he continued with Angie. “Jail time for grand larceny is five years.” He explained. “And we’ve got two witnesses to a redhanded culprit—”

“What!” The man broke out. “Ain’t no way this jacket’s worth that much!”

Angie caught on quickly. “Oh really? Well then I guess you'll have no problem giving it up. Or should he just arrest you and settle this in court?”

“Him? Arrest—” A nervous scoff. “You can’t arrest me.You’re not an officer.”

“No,” Angie reached around Jack’s hips and unclipped his badge with her free hand. She shoved it forward with a sneer. “He’s a federal agent!”

The evidence, at least, was enough to make him balk. Between a shiny badge, and Angie’s unhinged malice, the thief finally swallowed his pride and conceded.

“Alright! Alright!” He stuttered. “For pete’s sake, just tone it down.” Hands shaking, he flung the jacket away towards them, taking off without a second to spare.

Relief was immediate. Jack snagged his coat from the air and tangibly relaxed, almost slumping forward when the tension of the bond dissolved. He felt like he could breathe again. The familiar silky soothe of his skin in his hands was an unparalleled comfort.

“Hey!” He yelled down the street when he came to his senses. “I see you again, you won’t be so lucky!” Hopefully the weasel’s face would stay fresh in Jack’s mind so he could uphold that threat. He meant it.

Angie tossed her bottle aside with a frown. “Not going to arrest him?” She sounded disappointed.

Jack snorted out the front half of a laugh. After the whole ordeal, he was exhausted, and his lunch break was ten minutes expired. “No. He ain’t worth the time. I have better things to do.”

“Like what?” She clipped his badge back in place. Wow. Brazen woman.

Some twisted, tired kind of smile made its way to his lips. “If I recall, there’s still a pie I need to eat.”

Dooley would be annoyed, but he wouldn’t be surprised. Jack would make it up to him with an extra hour tonight. In the meantime, he felt in dire need of some decompression—so it was back to the automat with Angie on his arm.

After a near scare with her boss—yelling at her for ditching in the middle of a shift—Jack intervened with another flash of his badge and got her off the hook. The plate of whipped cream was only a little melted in the tepid springtime warmth, and he sincerely enjoyed his soggy slice of apple pie beneath it.

Jack was just finishing at the bar when the door chimed and a familiar dame strode in. She looked the picture of health, as he’d suspected. Three paper bags hung on each arm, a red pair of glasses perched high on her upheld nose, and each coiffe of her shiny brunette hair was positively immaculate despite the middle-aged day. Jack was not surprised. He waved with his fork.

She gave him a stern look and flicked her shades down an inch. “Thompson.” Was the curt acknowledgement.

“Hiya Marge.”

“Your lunch break is long over.”

“Well I couldn’t find a place to eat. We had no one to take the orders.”

She paused a second, just to emphasize how hard she was judging him, then decided: “That is pathetic.” And took the seat beside him.

No doubt her current visit had been carefully timed with the end of the allotted lunch shift, on the off chance that anyone from the office might go out to dine and see her here. Most likely Jack had ruined her planning. Oh well. He wasn’t crying about it—not after all the recent stress he’d been under.

“Oh hey, English!” Angie strolled by to take Jack’s empty dish, waving cheerfully. She set an easy hand on Jack’s shoulder, which he—surprisingly—didn’t shrug off. “Don’t worry about the ‘ole sailor boy. We had an adventure just now.”

Peggy wasn’t impressed very often, but when she was, she was subtle about it. Jack had learned to recognize the look (as a basic survival skill). It caught him off guard every time.

“Is that so?”

Angie recounted the story. Somehow, she kept Jack’s secret safe through it all. Just like she promised.

#jack thompson #selkie AU #selkie!jack #jack thompson imagine #jack thompson and angie martinelli #jack thompson shenanigans #angie martinelli #angie martinelli shenanigans #agent carter #Agent Carter Series #agent carter au #Agent Peggy Carter

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sepublic · 3 years

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Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

…

SO! Onto other things first…

WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

(Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

WHAT AN EPISODE!

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holden-caulfield · 3 years

Note

s...ongbird (any songs a person sings will get stuck in their soulmate’s head for the duration they decide to sing it). Hii! Hope you're doing well! If it's ok can I get a S with Draco Malfoy? If not, its ok! Thanks anyways!

Hi lovely, thank you so much for your request, really hope you like it!!🥰

(I did write this with the song 'Love Of My Life' by Queen in mind but i think it can work with any sad song really, just ignore the three verses i put at some point!)

Just A Song Away

↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: soulmate au in which one can hear the song the other is singing in their head.

Prompt from this list.

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1711

It was strange, really. Draco never heard that song before. It was a rather sorrowful melody and he was sure he had never heard it if not in his head, in that precise moment.

It was melancholic at most, the notes alternating slowly in his mind but he didn't know how they did, the melody completely new to him and nevertheless it was as if he had heard it a thousand times already. Fragile words resounded softly as he desperately tried to think of the origin of the song.

His efforts were all in vain because the song ended just as quickly as it started in his head. The words were always the same, repeating like a tedious lullaby, but never boring.

Oh how he longed to know to whom those words, or better those thoughts, belonged to. He knew that the one singing those doleful verses was his soulmate, that one person that should have been his true love, that one individual that could have accepted him without any judgement, the one that should have loved him unconditionally.

He didn't actually believe in that, he believed those were all lies. At least, that's what he told his friends whenever the topic was brought up: simple disgust evident on his face when dreamy looks were exchanged about soulmates.

He was skeptical and he had his reasons. Who would have loved Draco Malfoy if they knew who he was? The terrible things he had done in the past? And the terrible things he would have done in the future?

No, a soulmate was not possible for someone like him. But he liked to believe. He liked to believe in the eventuality of it, when no one was looking, hope only existing in his deepest thoughts.

The scorn he exhibited towards those who actually, fervently believed in the romantic concept might have been the reason why he didn't even look for his one and only.

The real reason, however, was that he was content this way. Hearing the delicate words in his head was enough for him, the impending prospect of his soulmate actually discovering him was enough to keep him from searching his person.

What made him change his mind, what made him think that maybe, just maybe, he should have begun his research was the sudden change in the periodical words that invaded his head. There were no longer cheerful tunes, instead desolate lines that repeated themselves almost obsessively.

He was worried, worried for someone with no name and no face, only a few sentences that somehow meant more to Draco than anything else. He was worried and he reckoned he could have ended the suffering that was weighing down on his unknown soulmate, but he always chased away those thoughts.

Unlike Draco Malfoy, you very much wanted to find your soulmate and everyone in the whole school had your same idea in mind.

Many tried singing out loud throughout the corridors, hoping that that certain special someone would notice them and finally stop the frantic search.

Others were too shy to actually do that and instead sang to themselves when alone and hoped their soulmate would have been smart enough to figure out who they were.

You weren't so hopeful. No song had been stuck in your head, no melodies, no silly tunes, not even a curt note. The upsetting suspicion you didn't have a soulmate often made his way in your mind, a mind that should have been occupied by songs and not by forlorn ideas.

It was perhaps the growing frequency of those thoughts that made you change musical tastes or maybe your break up. Maybe the latter had lead to the former and, together, they had made you feel undeserving of love.

You knew the guy you were dating wasn't your soulmate, you didn't hear his songs and he didn't hear yours, but a tiny part of you still hoped it was just a mistake, a stupid, silly, sad mistake.

It wasn't. It was inevitable and yet your heart was broken. The only solace you deemed possible was found in music, a new-found low-spirited music.

Wretched, you started listening and frequently humming to your new consolation. No one would have heard it either way.

Your sadness was only amplified by the constant reminder that other students were finding their true love, in the hallways, in classes, even in your dorm since two of your best friends eventually realized they were made for each other.

You felt alone, alone like you never felt before. Your new favourite place quickly became the astronomy tower: it was quiet and reserved, no one actually went there if not for classes since it was the highest place in all hogwarts and no one had the will to go all the way up.

Anyone but you because you had a lot of free time, not having yet found your soulmate to spend some moments with. You often sang in the tower, leaning against the railing with the gentle breeze surrounding you and providing some kind of much needed comfort.

The words you sang were becoming repetitive, particular verses stuck in your head that flowed freely from your lips, coated in honey and tears as they lost themselves in the wind.

Love of my life, you've hurt me

You've broken my heart and now you leave me

Love of my life, can't you see?

Only those words reverberated in your head because your soulmate's surely didn't. If you even had one. Maybe you really didn't, it wasn't as unusual as many thought. However this didn't soothe you in the slightest bit.

How heartbreaking, to know that a person that could love you so deeply, so genuinely didn't exist. For you.

Draco Malfoy felt like you, possibly even worse. He knew this person existed but he knew this person couldn't have loved him for who he was. He was so sure of it and yet he loved this person, whoever it was.

He, too, found solace in the astronomy tower, one of his ever favourite places in all hogwarts. From there, he felt insignificant but it was weirdly comforting to him, knowing that he wasn't that important, no one was in such a vast world.

He liked to sit under the light of the moon and of the starts, listening to the tunes that played in his head. He sometimes thought of repeating them himself, of singing them along with his soulmate, pretending they were together, but always stopped himself before he could.

You were beginning to lose hope, completely. You were resigning yourself to the ineluctable truth. Your heart felt at the same time heavy and light as a feather at the sudden realization, but the desolation that pervaded it never faded.

You strolled along the corridors, it was late and you could have been caught but you couldn't care less at the moment. You began singing, not caring about who might have heard you, maybe the paintings or maybe Filch, earning yourself a detention.

Slowly making your way to the beloved tower, you kept on repeating the same verses of your favourite song of the past few weeks, as if it was a prayer, a tender message you were sure no one would have ever duly appreciated.

Draco was perched on the railing of the tower, head on his arms that were crossed on the cold metal. His gaze lost in the depths of the sky, his head full of the lovely yet dejected sound that he had learned to love and despise.

You kept on making your way towards the stairs of the tower, your steps slow and steady just like your voice, and started ascending them.

Draco listened intently to the tune even though he was very much acquainted with it, the desire to feel close to the person singing it almost unbearable.

You were now halfway up the long flight of stairs and the softest of sounds became audible, a sob perhaps, you couldn't be sure, you had to get closer.

You stopped your singing, climbing the steps so carefully you unconsciously held your breath, but the voice stopped and, with it, you.

You began singing again tentatively, keeping your voice low as you kept climbing the stairs, getting closer and closer to the top. And now you heard something new, something unexpected.

A voice, low, grave and incredibly gentle filled your ears and your head. It was your tune but it was so different. The words were the same, but they sounded so much unalike. They were new just like the sensation you were currently experiencing.

You climbed, ran up the last steps, your singing stopping abruptly and the figure that was once slouched onto the railing turning around alarmed.

Silence filled the space, no words, no songs, no tunes, not even the wind was daring to make a sound, afraid to break the tension that had created.

You didn't dare say a word. What if it wasn't him? But he had to be.

Draco didn't speak, petrified under your gaze. What if it was her? But she couldn't be.

Whispers made their way out of your mouth, delicate, almost inaudible whispers in the form of music.

But Draco heard them. Not with his ears, despite the silence it would have been impossible to hear you, but in his head.

He repeated them louder, but with that gentleness that characterized the voice you had heard moments ago.

Your ears catching the sound that was already playing in your head, sweet and slightly more cheerful than it had ever been.

You could have sworn he had the voice of an angel, that kind of voice that makes you fall in love at the first syllable. His eyes were piercing right through you, showing you that love did in fact exist and that it could be found in those silvery blue orbs.

He could have sworn you were an angel, standing in front of him was the girl he had only imagined for all of this time, your eyes staring at him and burning inside of him, making him forget all of the reasons why he didn't look for you in the first place.

"It's you."

And it was indeed him.

This came out slightly longer than i expected and I'll admit I initially planned a rather angsty final, but in the end i went with the fluffy one because who am i to deny draco his true love?

Taglist <3

@turn-to-page-394-please @gwlvr @dracosaccount @astoria-malfcy @dracomalfoys-wh0re @eunoniaa @cherie-draco @oeuryale @wh0re4blaise @90smalfoy @sanctimoniousslytherpuff @maybesandohnos @dracoswhore007 @macheregrace @paulina1998 @bungunz @malfoysbiitch @dreamy-clousds @malfoyxxdraco23

[if your name is crossed out, check your privacy settings!]

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n

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adamfoolcry · 3 years

Text

i hate you, i love you (k.dy)

it's valentine's day and you try your hardest not to fall back in the arms of one kim doyoung - your former boss, recluse and closed off, your fuck buddy - whom you are completely in love with.

pairings: CEO!Doyoung x Fem!Reader, Johnny x Fem!Reader rating: 18+ genre: angst and smut warnings: swearing, explicit sexual situations - hate sex, dirty talk wc: 3k+ prompt: 'i hate you'

a/n: This is a part of Candy Hearts Collab hosted by @127-mile . Text in blockquote are text messages.Thank you for beta reading simmi(@sly-merlin ) and indi(@ncteaxhoe). Not proofread excuse the mistakes please contact me if you would like to do so. Enjoy! - xo aria

Doyoung:

I don't know if you'll even read this but if you do, I want you to know that what we have for two years was not a game for me. Maybe we can't start being honest with each other. When you make up your mind you know where to reach me.

Mina really knows how to dress you up to the nines, you'll give her that.

"It's not bad," you nod at your reflection approvingly as you examine the dress you wrestled yourself in, clinging to your body in the right places effectively enhancing your silhouette. The soft silky texture of satin feels exquisite against your skin however you can’t exude the confidence the dress might have channeled you with. You don’t feel grand in fact you feel the opposite;

You want to cancel the date.

"Oh for christ's sake, ______. Maybe try to put some enthusiasm into this," Mina spun you around to face her, your back to the whole body mirror where a while ago you two were examining the outfit she picked up from the back of your closet - where dressier clothing of yours reside not seeing the light of the day unless for special occasions.

Placing both her hands on your shoulders, "You were so excited when you called me to pick something to wear. What happened?" She further inquired.

You heave a sigh, "I don't know I am just not in a mood to go out on a date with a stranger," you admitted.

Mina pulls your eyes back to hers, gleaming with determination. "You are ______, an economics major who graduated on top of her class, who landed a new job as a senior financial analyst despite being in the industry for only three years. Now repeat it," Mina orders you.

"What does it have to do with -" you rolled your eyes, and whined dramatically.

She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth in displeasure, "Go on say it"

"I am ______, graduated on the top of my class and landed a new position as a senior financial analyst despite my tenurity," you mumble in a low voice.

"Good," Mina coddled you as if you are an infant who uttered her first word, "now add I am young, smart, and men want me."

You open your mouth to protest but Mina only pinned you with a hard look and you know you will not be getting out of this until you do as she says.

"I am young, smart, and men want me." You did as she told you.

Begrudgingly you did feel a lot better.

This is the third step of banishing Kim Doyoung in your life entirely.

First is to send a resignation letter - done.

Second, secure a new employment - done.

Third is to pursue a romantic relationship.

"Now let's get you ready for your date." Mina pulled you to the present, squeezing your bare shoulders to comfort you.

"I know that what you did is really hard. The sudden big change and all but today's Valentine's day you need to have a little fun today."

"I know Mina, now do my makeup." You pulled her to where your vanity table is located as you paste a smile on your face in order to placate her worries.

--------

If people were to know why you are doing this they might have called you silly.

After graduating from university you were offered the position of financial analyst in his company - a small but budding start up in Tech. Never would you have expected to land a job in your chosen field straight out of college. You are doing what you have envisioned yourself doing: analysing the trends and forecasting sales of the company's cloud solutions. You are comfortable with your current living situation, not what you have imagined after your parents cut you off no longer sending you an allowance. You thought you'd be working your ass off to make ends meet. Thankfully, the pay was high enough for you to live in an apartment in the city, pay your bills in time, and afford luxuries you knew that most people your age wouldn't have the money for.

Everything seems perfect right? A job that you genuinely love, good pay, living in the heart of the city but of course you just have to develop feelings for your boss: Kim Doyoung. And that complicates everything; enough for you to decide to completely start over again.

Kim Doyoung has managed to worm into every nook and cranny of your life.

Kim Doyoung is a magnetic man, of few words, stern straight brows, and wide shoulders swaddled in elegant suits. He runs the company based on data-driven decisions unafraid of taking risks that produces the highest profitable outcome. Working at his company where all ten workers directly reports and closely works with him, you and your colleagues have developed quite a personal relationship with him. It was not conventional per se but you guess this is how all start-ups operate with a slightly different work culture. Unlike big corporations there is no bureaucracy, filling for leaves can just be a phone call or a visit to his office.

As his only financial analyst almost never leaving his side. You'd like to think that Doyoung might have developed a soft spot for you, maybe not in a romantic sense but in a platonic friendly way. He values your opinion enough that he asks for your input in any pivotal decisions either in work or his personal life. Whether to facilitate the migration to cloud as external contractors of big corporations or to oversee the renovation of his penthouse. And in small things too honestly, after all he asked for your help to decide whether the decor should be a Bohemian vibe or modern minimalistic black and grey.

That was until you fucked after the in-office celebration of closing a big contract. One moment he is talking about the vase that serves as a centerpiece of his dining table that you helped him pick, the next he was pulling your arm leading you to a dimly lit room.

Yes, you did drink but you were sober enough to protest if you didn't want it; who are you kidding? Of course you wanted it to happen. Not one word of objection was uttered as he pinned you to the wall with your legs circling his waist. Instead of protests what left your lips was series of moans and his name in breathless pleas that he had to stuff your mouth with his fingers or else your colleagues will hear the two of you having sex two rooms away from them.

Doyoung slipped out of you stepping back to let you down.Your stilettos made a clicking noise as it came in contact with the tiled floor that echoed in your eardrums; deafening. Coming back down to earth and from your high is also the moment when you realized the mess you put yourself into by fucking Doyoung - your boss - in a storage room.

You righted both your disheveled appearances - to look as normal as possible - in order to go back to the pantry where the celebration was still in full swing. The tense silence that wrapped the atmosphere makes you want to shrivel in shame, both of you were aware of the line that you have crossed.

The unspoken words were hanging in the air -

It was a mistake. Let's forget this ever happened. - and you refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room, the stillness making you uncomfortable by the second.

"_______ -," Doyoung started.

"We don't have to talk about it Doyoung."

You moved for the door, not looking back to peek at Doyoung's expression. You just wanted to get out of the dusty storage room, the stuffy air and Doyoung's proximity, suffocating you.

You thought you were smart enough not to make the same mistake again but you seem to have a penchant for getting hurt because you did it again and again every chance you got. When the effects of orgasm are wearing off and you are left naked and vulnerable you always find yourself swearing that it will be the last time but you already knew you were lying.

You just can't get enough of Doyoung even though it hurts to pretend that each encounter was meaningless.

Sleeping with someone where you never knew where you stand at is excruciatingly painful.

You can't be jealous when you hear about the new girl he's with because you have no right.

It is painful when Doyoung gives you some false hope. Visiting you almost everyday in your small office bearing lunch for the two of you. He often spends half of his day loitering in your space, perching himself on the corner of your desk pushing around the knick knacks around your desk while you are busy with work.

Only to dash it when he tells you about the latest girl he's seeing which would mean your ears would bear the brunt of his relationship woes until it falls apart only for the vicious cycle to repeat again when he found himself in another one of his flings.

Everyday as he asks for relationship advice you feel yourself getting worn out and the green eyed monster roaring it's head, you try your hardest to tamp it down with your rational thinking.

What hurts the most is he started his series of flings a week after you hooked up, rubbing on your face that it means nothing to him at all.

So after countless hours, days, and months of anguish you started planning your escape.

--------

There are so many thoughts running through your head it starts with: Did I overdress? Is Johnny having a good time?

Then drifts into completely unrelated manners.

Did I manage to say goodbye to all of my co-workers? Clear out my desk in my office? Surrender my elevator pass to the friendly security guard? Retrieve my favorite mug in the pantry?

Will everything be ok? Will I excel at my new company? Will I fit in a big corporation?

Will I miss Doyoung?

Am I doing the right thing?

Johnny cleared his throat which broke your reverie, your eyes settling in his face but Johnny seems to find the table napkin worthy of his attention rather than maintaining eye-contact with you.

"I had fun today but I think -," You see Johnny hesitating to continue his sentence, linking and unlinking his fingers instead.

You get it and you can't blame Johnny for his lack of interest. You were barely with him today after the small talk had died down and the two of you had finished your meals. You didn't make an effort to get to know him, the conversation was one sided as you barely threw the questions back at him; replying in terse short sentences as if you would rather be anywhere but having dinner with him.

"Yeah me too but it's really nice to spend Valentine's with you though and getting all dolled up. Makes me forget I am single," You joked and flashed him a smile; relieved, Johnny finally met your eyes as his actions mirror yours curving his lips into a smile.

-------

You hailed a cab for a ride back to your apartment, settling in the backseat you instructed and gave the address to the driver as his radio blasted cheesy romantic songs in your ear, making you feel more disappointed with how bad your date with Johnny went.

As the cab speeds through the city, the citylights intermingle with each other creating a spectrum of colors that bounce back at the cab’s windows, the scenery of skyscrapers blurring past your eyes and your mind returns back to musing which you know is a dangerous territory because somehow your mind always returns back to him.

Doyoung

What exactly did you want to be with Doyoung?

You want him to like you? No, You want to mean something to him, to be the special person he runs to whenever he's devastated, to be the first person he calls when he's completely utterly bursting with joy. You want him to be completely aware of your presence that even just a mere mention of your name will evoke something in him, make his heart beat a little faster and cause some flush to bleed through his cheeks.

You want him to be endeared with your habitual tics - how you drum your fingers in every surface when you are in deep thought, a line maring your forehead between your brows and make his lips itch to kiss it. You want him to be captivated with your idiosyncrasies and find it charming, you want him to adore everything about you that made you, distinctly you.

You want him to want you.

Your phone vibrated and interrupted your stupor and upon seeing Doyoung’s name attached to the notification. Your fingers quickly unlocked your phone, fingers ringing from an adrenaline rush just from the sight of his name.

Doyoung:

Come over?

And just like that you inform your cab driver to make a detour and drive to Doyoung’s instead.

Doyoung opened the gigantic door of his penthouse where he found you on the other side of the door, shifting your weight from foot to foot, nervous to be in the same perimeter as him. When the gap was big enough to see you his eyes roved over to your body and noted that you were dressed up nicely for a date. His eyes then turned into slits as he glared at you.

“Have fun with your date?” He questioned and you can see his jaw set - the muscles clenching tight.

You didn’t answer, you don’t want him to know the pathetic evening you spent with Johnny as your mind drifts to thoughts of him; instead of actively participating with Johnny’s effort of back and forth.

As if knowing that you wouldn’t answer, his arms went to grab your forearms pulling you inside and leading you to the stairs up his loft where his bed is, you followed meekly behind him. Reaching his loft you look around and try to commit to memory the layout of the room; promising yourself that this will be the last time you will set foot in this room.

Doyoung attached his lips to your neck which drew a soft moan from you, spurred by your sounds he continued to ravish your neck oscillating between harshly sucking and peppering soft kisses on the expanse of the skin of your neck. His hands running at your sides smoothly and gradually getting closer to the underside of your breasts with each pass, when he finally cupped your mounds you arch in his palms further pushing yourself closer to him, greedy for his attention from all the teasing that he has done.

When he spoke again it fanned over the nape of your neck making your skin tingle from the warmth, “Why can’t you understand that I am the only one who can make you feel this way.”

You can smell the residue of whisky on his breath and you wanted to taste it on your tongue even though from all the times you have slept with him you two have never kissed. You have drawn the line there for kissing is much more intimate than slapping bodies againsts each other for satisfaction. Kissing can be done without sexual notions but a simple act between couples and it is a glaring truth that you two were not.

You found yourself naked and sprawled on his queen size bed where you have lain your back many times but never spent a night in. Even the off white color of his ceiling is familiar to you as if mocking you for all the times you said you wouldn’t see it again. As he slips your dress down your body, your eyes water and it pooled in your eyes ready to spill over. ‘This is the last time,’ you tell yourself again, 'this is the last time that I will be Doyoung’s beck and call.' When he was finished trailing his lips down and also discarding his clothes at the other side of the bed you managed to swipe the tears that gathered in your eyes and look at him.

Towering over you he was a sight to behold and you trace the line of his body with your eyes, caressing the dips on his collarbones and the line that leads down to his cock as his face coil into a smirk smug with the knowledge that he can turn you into a whimpering mess.

“What do you want?” He asked while splaying his hands on your stomach, his thumb drawing circles on your clit which made your moans even louder and your pussy clench on nothing. You hate that he was the only one who can make you feel this way, reducing you into a pleading mess as you move your hips to the rhythm that he has set.

You don’t have to tell him your guttural whines already told him what you wanted and he obliged inserting his length into you slowly, while you gripped his sheets until your knuckles turned white. You loved the way he filled you and the burn that accompanies when he stretched your clamping muscles on him.

So you let all your reasoning go because Doyoung’s cock pumping inside you felt good, too good.

He knows your body like an instrument, putting the right pressure and hitting the spots that makes you throw your head back repeatedly. You can feel the falter in his quick thrusts and knows that he is near his end. Doyoung makes this one sound at the back of his throat when he orgasms … and you follow suit too as he falls apart.

It took a few seconds for him to untangle his legs and arms from your figure and it took you a couple of minutes of staring at the walls, waiting until you felt your legs can support you before you stood up and searched for your dress and undergarments. You can hear the rustle of the sheets as Doyoung sits on his bed watching your back as you slip on your panties and pull your dress back in its place.

“So tell me why did you leave the company?” Doyoung asked, his voice ringing loudly in your ears.

“I told you already I want to work in a big company,” You try to answer nonchalantly.

“Really? Or does it have something to do with me?

“Oh for fuck’s sake Doyoung. The world doesn’t revolve around you!” You shouted at him as you turned around to face him. Your ire rising as you see the cold stoic look on his face - unaffected by your outburst.

“Then why does it feel like you are running away from me?” He stood up from the bed and warily approached you as if you will lash at him any moment.

“I hate you,” (I love you) you whispered under your breath the words not meant from his ears but he heard it anyway. Disbelief painted his features he cannot grasp the reason why you are suddenly acting like this.

He reached out to touch your arm but you swerved his hand like a hurt animal nursing a wound and Doyoung then noticed your bloodshot eyes and defensive stance.

“Don’t touch me. Whatever destructive thing this is Doyoung, I am done. We’re done,” You stated bluntly your voice devoid of emotions a complete contrast with how you hugged yourself tightly with your arms.

“You don’t mean that,” Doyoung said adamantly as color drained from his face, making his pale complexion - paper white.

“You can’t just walk away,” He added more to convince himself than you because he can see that hard look in your eyes - already set in the decision of walking away from him.

“Watch me Doyoung,” your lips curved into a cruel bitter smile.

You leave him with those words as he watches your retreating figure until it completely disappears from his line of vision.

--------

That night when you received a text from Doyoung, you never bothered to open it, opting to delete it and completely block all communications with him. You need to move on and in order to do it you need to sever all ties that might delude you to come back in his arms again.

You need to escape from Kim Doyoung for it's been due too long.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

first base

part 6 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.7k

warnings: strong language, illusions to part trauma

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier Baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need ot know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, the guys start to explain baseball both as a game and a career to the reader, and Frankie takes a step in the right direction instead of running.

It was Francisco’s idea for someone to walk you to your car, but Will ended up doing it, his mind too lost in thought for his usually sharp eyes to see. They missed the drop in Frankie’s shoulders, the tilt of Santi's head, and the way that even after the goodbyes, your fingers waved an extra wave at just one of them before you turned away. He didn’t say anything as you walked and thanked him again for inviting you to his grandparents with everyone, and apologized for James’ absence.

“Thank you,” he said finally, his accent was more pronounced and you almost thought he was going to shake your hand before he pulled you into a rough hug.

“What for?” the Millers, you were learning, were physically affectionate, but there was something in the way he did it, something in the way he said it that made you pause.

“The other night, and,” he shrugged, for once not quite knowing what to say, and you could almost see the words swimming behind his deep blue eyes. With a content sigh, you perched on the edge of the hood of your car, settling in for a real conversation with William Miller. Ironhead, they told you, a golden top athlete and responsible older of Ben, and the whole group. There was a huff, as he acknowledged it, smiling a little bit.

“You guys protect him,” you offered, and he crossed his arms, leaning next to you. Will blinked, then uncrossed his arms again.

“Yeah,” his hands moved along the grooves of the car, as if he was concentrated on being open with you. “We have to.”

“You’re his big brother.”

You didn’t ask, but they’re not? but it was implied. The sturdy first-baseman stilled, looking right at you. If this had been less of a conversation, it would have occurred to him that the prolonged time alone with you was creating a curiosity what was killing his friend inside.

“We were all him, a few years ago,” his eyes felt like they were boring into yours, intense in a comforting way, like he would ask permission before peering into your soul. “High on attention, moving too fast to think, caught up in the parties and girls and... all of it.”

Nodding while he talked, you muttered not relatable underneath his voice and he half smiled as he continued. Still, you understood what he was getting at.

“It got bad,” he said it like he had rehearsed it, or maybe had said it before. “Redfly wants it back, bigger, better. He could do it, too, if…” Will talked with his hands just enough to wave off the end of that sentence. “We all made mistakes. Did shit we aren’t proud of. Still sort of recovering from that. Just… don’t like seeing him make some of the same choices.”

“He’s got a big heart,” you said, asking not for confirmation, but out of curiosity. He grinned, breaking his frustrated reminiscing and nodded.

“You’re good for him,” he pushed off the car, a signal that he said what he needed to. Another hug, and at the same time as you said, “I like you guys,” you could’ve sworn he added, “For all of us.”

Pulling back, you stared, but he didn’t repeat himself, and you finished your goodbyes. The drive home, you forgot to turn on the radio the whole drive, thinking.

There was a place for you, with those five boys, it wasn’t a crazy once-in-a-lifetime thing. And maybe it was time to stop fighting it.

There was nothing about Francisco that you didn’t like – except he spilled your secret.

I actually don’t know anything about baseball.

Frankie was mad he shared it, too. His daydreams of having you pressed against his side – or better yet, in his lap – as he explained the beautiful game to you dwindled before his eyes. His friends were yelling, indignant, and excited. Already the evening was being planned, to watch a game and explain it to you and with resignation he knew they were all looking forward to it.

So, two evenings later, he found himself trying to get a seat next to yours on the little couch of Santi's rental. You brought snacks and a recording James had given you, and were wearing an old team tshirt that made his heart flip over in his chest.

It was silly, how eagerly they all waited for the recording to start, just boys excited to strut their stuff and show off.

“So exactly how much do you know?” Will was on your other side, the most relaxed of the bunch, sipping something fizzy. He seemed amused, more than anything.

“Let’s just assume I know nothing,” you shrugged. They were sure that wasn’t true, but it made it more fun.

“That’s me!” Santiago said, raising his eyebrows and pointing. It was, which you obviously knew, but you asked for it. Tom, who was gripping a beer while hovering by the food and texting, coughed a laugh.

“Okay, smart-ass,” you grabbed a handful of candy off the coffee table and threw one at Santi’s head. “You’re the pitcher. What do you do, other than throw the ball?”

He caught it, grinning, before Ben chimed in.

“Nothing.”

Santi made an offended noise in the back of his throat. He explained it to you – he was in control, throwing the ball in different ways to manipulate the batter.

“So, if all goes well, the batter misses and you catch it,” your eyes found Frankie’s, confirming, and he shrugged, more focused on restraining himself from pulling you against him. They then explained, strikes were good, but sometimes it was equally good to make the batter hit it badly.

“What’s a bat hit, at this level?”

Benny’s chest swelled a little with pride as he said anything he could catch. They corrected him – anything anyone could catch. That would give the other team an “out" faster than three strikes.

His voice was deep, but his laughter was lighter as Benny launched into a story like a overgrown kid trying to share. You could barely follow it as he jumped around and the others began to interject the pieces that he missed. It made you smile, how passionate they were about what they did.

Frankie saw a chance in the midst of the loud conversation, swallowed hard, and took it, sliding a little bit closer to you. He kept his voice low, as he explained that he and Pope would communicate the plan with hand signals. It was a gift from them, really, to let him show them you, your eyes alight as you looked at his broad, scarred hands.

The snap of the ball hitting a bat broke the moment, and all of you turned back towards the screen. Tom tuned in, telling you what he did in the outfield – mostly standing and running and catching and throwing – before he excused himself and slipped out. There was a joke somewhere, about the differences between infielders and outfielders, but no one made it.

You watched a tiny version of Will hit the ball, and the camera followed it as if flew all the way over the heads of the opposing team, past the fence and into the crowd.

“A home run?” That was one thing you didn’t really need to ask, but Will looked proud, anyway.

“Who has the record?” The real question, executed with raised brows and a conspiring sip of your drink as Santi made a face at you. At this point, you had their measure - jealousy wasn’t stronger that their comradery.

Your elbow bumped Frankie’s ribs and even though it didn’t hurt, he winced. “Will,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“It’ll be me in a few years,” Benny added with his wide smile, not even trying to dodge the pillows and pretzels thrown at his face.

“Sore subject?” eyes in Frankie’s, it made him thaw -that you were talking just to him.

“I’m a bad batter.” It was the truth. It wasn’t really in his skill set and he normally didn’t mind because it meant he had to do it less, but… he really didn’t like letting you down. It didn’t seem like you really cared, though, he hoped with all his heart that he wasn’t hallucinating when you slid closer to him. You made a joke about how you would certainly be worse, and his daydream about teaching you returned in force.

“Actually,” Santi’s quiet voice seemed more thoughtful than teasing, and he leaned in so only Frankie could hear him. “Recently you’ve been better,” he punched his friend’s arm and added, “Because you’ve got a good luck charm.”

They both looked at you, squinting at the screen and comparing your score sheet to the correct one.

“I guess so,” Frankie’s tone was just as thoughtful.

Throughout the evening all the remaining men were affectionate with you, and it was weirding you out. You had just gotten used to being friends with minor celebrities, and now?

It may have been the fact that you were just letting them show off their skills but something had definitely changed. It was like it was settled, your place with them, your value to them. Ben had sat in front of you, and asked you to run your fingers through his hair like you had before, as he explained what a shortstop did. He played it off like he didn’t do much, genuinely humble – but as it turned out, they were the most valuable player on the team, the core to communication and guidance. It was sweet, that he got so excited to share it with you, and accidentally let it all spill out.

Will remembered your drink, and teased you more than he ever had, letting himself banter with you and Santi.

Their hands were on your shoulders, ruffling your hair, on your arm, your knees, brushing or squeezing like they were trying to communicate to you how thankful they were that you actually cared. It was nice, but most of all, it was comfortable. It reinforced what Will had laid the foundation for - you really were a part of this, for the long haul.

Best of all was how close you were against the solid warmth of Francisco’s side. His arm was over the top of the couch, respectfully, and his fingers caught on your shoulder and the tips of your hair, like his restraint was crumbling.

When the game was over and the Miller boys faked yawns and slipped out, the weight of his arm settled, finally, and you leaned into him. Soon, you would have to pull away, pretend you hadn’t wanted to cuddle him fully so you wouldn’t overstay your welcome, but it was hard when it seemed like he wanted you to stay, too.

You made the time less awkward for Santi, though, since your final question was for the two of them, anyway.

“Will talked to me the other day, about before.” They snapped to attention, looking at you cautiously. “Would you guys… tell me, sometime? About all of it?” Knowing what you meant, the air was thick as they exchanged glances.

They didn’t have time for it all. Frankie’s hand fidgeted on your shoulder, and his grip on you tightened. You reached up and touched his hand, a reassurance, or maybe insurance for his overthinking mind, before you forced yourself to pull away. It didn’t need to be right now.

“Yeah, if you want,” Santiago was a man prone to talking, charming, working his was out of unpleasant situations. He fought the instinct.

It came out haltingly, the high of their success, and how each one of them had crashed down in their own way. They didn’t share too many details of the other men just themselves, and how it had felt.

For Santi, he threw himself into the game, overworking his mind and body until his knees gave out. It cost him a small fortune in treatments, a lost contract with his last team, and forced him into a break with his long term girlfriend. He thought his life was over, shot straight into the ground, and ended up in continuous therapy for both his mind as well as his knees. Will dated a girl who was in it for the wrong reasons, had his proposal on tabloid covers before he saw it, and locked himself away. Tom drank himself into a quiet, secretive 30 day rebab.

It was the hardest to share - Frankie’s drug use, his spiral as he balanced the two extreme sides of his life. He mentioned his family, his sister and he baby like weights on his shoulders, and his eyes told you and Pope both that he would tell you more later, when and if you wanted him too.

They each had been devastated by their mistakes, and you were almost in awe of them as they talked about keeping each other accountable, building and holding each other up, these past few years. There was plenty, like Will said, that was still healing, still being worked on, but it was amazing to see how far they’d come.

Francisco watched you closely, also fighting himself internally. It was a miracle you hadn’t run away, and he could see it like a sunrise on the horizon - hope. An actual real chance that he would get a shot with you, a real shot without secrets and faking it and anxiety.

You were thanking them both, hands cleaning up as you asked them if there was anything you should be conscious of in the future. He wasn’t jealous when Pope hugged you for a beat longer than normal, and he had to smile at his friend’s excitement as he talked about what baseball had become to them, and how tight their friendships were.

“Now you’re stuck with us,” Santi really meant it, and Frankie made a sound so you knew he agreed.

His mind was running as you walked together to your cars, but the feel of you wouldn’t leave his chest and he couldn’t stop just... talking to you.

The conversation had turned back to the game, and your growing love for it had nothing on his growing feelings for you. When you stopped at your car, he couldn’t bring himself to keep going, to move past and head home. The flow of words lulled and he found himself hovering close to you, above you like he had in the kitchen of your abuelo’s home. Your eyes flickered across his face, and he watched your tongue wet your lips subconsciously, and it was all over.

Frankie pulled you into him, kissing you as gently as he could manage. He meant for you to be able to pull away, if you wanted to - if it was too much, all of the information. You didn’t take it, kissing him back and letting him press into you until your back was against the cool metal of the car.

When you had watched them play, really watched and understood, Frankie had loved the way you looked at him, had thought nothing would feel better than your adoration.

He was wrong.

Feeling you in his arms, pinned between his body and your car, kissing him back like you wanted this as much as he did was the most intense thing he’d ever experienced.

Pulling back, his voice was rough as he asked you if you’d want to talk, sometimes soon, just you and him. You were just as breathless as he was, and your affirmation felt as good as a homerun. When he stepped fully back so you could open the driver’s side door, your head ducked as you smiled at him, and he wanted to eat you alive.

But he let you go, and as you drove away he thought about stealing after you, but he didn’t. There was a time and place for that, but after such a perfect moment, Frankie was content biding his time. He still had more work to do.

taglist

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

hey batter batter taglist

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin

#francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie x you #frankie x reader #catfish x you #triple frontier baseball au #hey batter batter #maybe i don't know people

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴 𝐺𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑇𝑜 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟/𝑆/𝑂'𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑

Little continuation to this post.

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

You found yourself no longer being afraid of him. Sure things started off completely bad, but he redeemed himself through the care and protection he gave you both. And little by little, your son started to warm up to Hongjoong, eventually becoming quite attached to him. Even though you guys hadn't exactly placed a label on your relationship, it was more than clear you were obviously more than friends.

He enjoyed spending time with you and your son. He especially enjoyed taking him out, with your permission of course. It was in one of those times he took him out to eat. While waiting for the food to arrive, your son took out a deck of cards to pass time.

"Hyung! Wanna play poker?" The little boy asked so innocently it made Hongjoong chuckle.

"Do you know how to play?"

Even with the boy's enthusiastic nod, Hongjoong wasn't actually expecting a game of poker. After all, he's a child. But to entertain him, he decided to play along, even pretend to lose just to make him happy.

But Hongjoong was really surprised when not only does the kid indeed know how to play, but actually won the game. Hongjoong just laughed, thinking it was because he wasn't really trying, but another round, and the boy still beat him.

Hongjoong just blinked slowly, trying to face reality: a 5 year old boy actually beat his ass at poker...... yet he couldn't be prouder.

"Not bad at all." Hongjoong ruffled the ball hair.

"Aww is he your son?" The waitress asked when she set down the plates of food in front of them.

Hongjoong looked over at your son, who had a hopeful twinkle in his eyes. Hongjoong smiled before confidently stating:

"Yeah, he's my son."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

If you thought Seonghwa wouldn't leave you alone before, now it is 10 times worse. He was always showing up at your house, and you couldn't exactly tell him to leave. One, he's your boss and he's still terrifying, and two, your daughter adores him and is always running to him when he comes.

So you have to constantly put up with him being around, although before it was because you didn't want to get involved with him. Now it was because you were getting too attached to him yourself and you were afraid of that.

That didn't stop Seonghwa. Sooner or later you'd officially be his, but for now, he resigns himself to just helping you with your adorable princess, as he likes to call her.

"What are we going to play today?" Seonghwa asked her, expecting her to take out her dolls or her Candyland board game.

He most definitely was not expecting her to bring out a mini sized roulette wheel to the living room. He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow.

"What? She wanted it and it's not harming anyone." You shrugged.

Seonghwa saw this as an opportunity to get something from you and actually decided to bet: if he won, you'd have to officially go out on a date with him. If your daughter won, he'd buy her anything she wanted, and in this case, she just really wanted ice cream which she'd been craving since she got sick. It was a done deal and Seonghwa thought he'd win. He's played the game so many times in his work, he felt confident.....

But after so many rounds, somehow that tiny girl in front of him seemed to accurately guess the winning number, leaving him stunned. You just laughed as he had no choice but to admit defeat.

"Well it was worth a shot......but a deal's a deal."

Picking up the girl, he kissed her cheek and smiled at her.

"Now let's go get you that ice cream you wanted princess. At least you're willing to go on a date with me."

You couldn't help rolling your eyes at his statement. Maybe one day, you'll say yes.

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Seonghwa's words ended up becoming a reality: Yunho and you had been married for over a year now and you were still much in love with him as ever. He was happy and proud to finally call you his wife and to show off his son anywhere he went now.

He especially loved taking him with the other guys and their kids to their weekly game nights. Usually the kids would simply run around and play with each other while they sat around the table and play a round of Blackjack. More than one of the kids got interested one night and the men started to teach them how to play.

"So basically, if you get close to 21 without going over, you win." Yunho explained to his son.

"I wanna play!" The little boy exclaimed enthusiastically.

Seonghwa mixed the cards up and handed them to Yunho. Yunho set up the game and turned to the boy.

"Ready?"

To his surprise, and everyone else's, his son beat him in the game. Nobody was really expecting it since he'd never played it before. Yunho was astonished himself.

"Play another round. I wanna see the outcome!" Wooyoung encouraged them.

And after Seonghwa shuffled the cards again, they took turns flipping the cards over. Yunho thought for sure he was going to win since the boy decided to call stop at 16. But when he flipped his card over, it totaled to 28, meaning he automatically lost. Everyone erupted into laughs.

"You just got owned by your own son." Mingi chuckled.

Yunho wasn't upset though. He was happy that his son won. Seeing his giddy smile when he won made him feel content.

"You know, if it had been someone else, you would have been mad that you lost." Seonghwa said to him once they were cleaning up.

"Yeah, but how can I get mad at him? Not with that sunshine smile he gets." Yunho smiled.

"Yeah that's exactly what I thought....which is why I rigged the cards when I shuffled them." Seonghwa confessed.

Yunho turned to him in shock.

"You what?"

Seonghwa began laughing at Yunho's expression.

"Thank me later." Seonghwa winked at him.

"Wait! How many other games have you rigged?!"

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Some things never changed: Wooyoung and Yeosang were still close as ever. After all, they were not only best friends but also brothers in law. And Wooyoung loved coming over to play with his little niece, who was now nearing 5 years old.

She was such a curious little girl. Like her father, she hardly talked, but would always seem to poke around whenever Yeosang and Wooyoung would play a game amongst themselves. She especially was interested when they would play Roulette, she loved watching the wheel spin.

Sensing her curiosity, Wooyoung picked her up and sat her in his lap.

"All right baby girl, wanna help out Uncle Wooyoung? Pick a number."

That's how it ended up going: the little girl would point to a number, not sure what it would do, but for some reason, Wooyoung would end up screaming in victory.

"I'm telling you! This kid has powers or something!" Wooyoung said, holding her up higher and kissing her cheek.

You came in the room just as he was parading her around.

"What in the world are you doing with my daughter Wooyoung?" You asked, knowing your brother was up to one of his shenanigans again.

"Celebrating the fact she helped me beat your husband and now he owes me 500 dollars. Haha!" Wooyoung released his unique hyena laugh.

You turned to look at Yeosang and gave him a questioning gaze.

"Did you just teach our daughter how to gamble?"

Yeosang raised his hand to argue.

"In my defense, it was all Wooyoung's fault."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San felt so proud of his son. Not only did he just beat him at poker, but he never even taught him how to play himself. He simply learned by watching him play with Mingi whenever he came over.

"Do you know what this means Y/N?!" San of course had to tell you about this accomplishment.

"That you're sleeping on the couch for teaching our son to gamble?" You replied, not at all happy with this information.

"It means our son is a genius! Y/N! You and I created a really smart kid! Isn't that amazing! Aren't you proud of him?" He exclaimed.

"Choi San, I'd be proud if he had won a spelling bee, gotten straight A's or won a soccer match, but knowing our son can play poker at 6 years old is somewhat concerning to me."

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Honestly San, how could you teach him those types of games?"

San gasped.

"Were you not listening? I told you! I didn't have to teach him! He learned himself by watching me and Mingi play!" He repeated himself.

You squinted your eyes at him before walking away from him.

"You're still sleeping on the couch." You said.

San began to whine.

"Oh come on Y/N! It's not that bad!"

"Why not teach him to play monopoly instead? Family friendly games?" You called out from the kitchen.

"Monopoly?! Are you insane?! That devil game destroys relationships!"

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi knew that he was screwed the minute he allowed his daughter tag along with him to Yunho's house. But he couldn't say no to her when she was looking at him with those doe eyes and pouting lips.

"I want to go with daddy." She begged, tears threatening to spill out.

So there Mingi went, bringing in a 4 year old to his best friend's house, where the other mafia members were also gathered.

"Stuck with babysitting duty?" Yeosang asked him when he came in, his tiny daughter on one of his arms.

"Don't make me say something in front of her." Mingi warned.

"Ok ok, settle down you guys. And let's try to keep it PG for the princess here." Yunho said, trying to keep the environment safe.

Clearly Jongho and Yeosang didn't understand that since they took advantage of the fact Mingi was occupied in a phone call to teach his daughter the basics of blackjack, which she caught on quick. Mingi came back to the scene and was shocked.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" Mingi screeched.

"Language." Hongjoong reminded him.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Mingi picked her up from Jongho's grasp.

"Playing! Want to play with me?" She pleaded with him.

Mingi thought that one round wouldn't hurt her. They'd play, they'd leave and he'd pretend like this never happened. But it did hurt. It hurt him when his daughter beat him, not once, but 5 times! Because she liked the game so much and kept asking him to play again and again.

"Can we play with mommy when we get home?"

Mingi's heart sank as he realized how you were going to react when you found out he took her to Yunho's house and she might have become a blackjack enthusiast.

"Uh.....sweetie how about we don't tell mommy about this? Hmm?"

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Are you ready to get your butt kicked yet again son?" Wooyoung smirked at his 7 year old son.

"I'll beat you this time old man!" The little boy held up his fist, making Wooyoung chuckle.

Although Wooyoung had wanted a little girl, he loved his son to death. He was his best friend, his playmate, his new partner in crime, and more often than not, it resulted in both of them getting in trouble with you. He was the exact replica of his father, personality wise that is. Physically, he resembled you more.

You were disappointed when you found out Wooyoung had been teaching his son to play, not just poker, but every single card game known to man. But boys will be boys, and your son was just as competitive as his father and vowed that one day he'd beat him in one game.

"Keep dreaming buddy." Wooyoung would usually respond to him.

But the day finally came. Your son beat his own father and mentor in a card game. Wooyoung just stood there for a minute, contemplating if this was reality.

"What the fuck just happened?!" Wooyoung completely forgot that he shouldn't swear in front of his kid. As if he didn't forget almost every day.

"I beat your sorry ass old man!" The kid began running around with joy.

Wooyoung stared at him in disbelief.

"You cheated didn't you?! I demand a rematch you little demon."

Wooyoung began chasing the little boy down. You came in the room, wondering what all the fuss was about. You managed to scoop up your son in your arms.

"What is going on around here?" You demanded to know.

"Boomer here can't accept the fact I kicked his shitty ass." Your son stuck his tongue out at Wooyoung.

You widened your eyes.

"Where on earth did you learn those words?"

Wooyoung looked at your son, silently begging him to blame Mingi or Yunho. But the little boy grinned at him evilly before responding:

"Daddy did of course."

You whipped your head to Wooyoung, who just started laughing nervously.

"Kids say the darnest things these days....right?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

You absolutely refused to at first. But you gave in and started bringing your daughter to work with you because Jongho kept insisting. The other people would often fawn over her cause she was just the most adorable and precious being they've ever seen.

Jongho doted on her the most. People were shocked to see him hold her in his arms, gift her endless presents and overall just show a side of him they'd never seen before. You were surprised yourself. How on earth was this young mafia boss so good with kids?

You hated to admit it, but you actually felt more relaxed than before. Now you knew Jongho would never use your daughter against you and spent time with her because he found her cute. So you had no problem leaving her alone with him at times.

During one of these times, you were busy making several calls to different people and checking certain 'materials' that needed to be looked over to make sure it was what Jongho ordered. Having been satisfied that it was, you went back to the office and found Jongho and your daughter sitting across from each other, cards displayed in front of them.

When Jongho saw you, he smiled.

"Hello there Mrs. Choi." He'd often call you that just to tease you.

"Jongho, I swear if you are teaching my daughter poker or any card game-"

"Relax baby. We're actually just playing speed. I'm not dumb enough to teach a 3 year old girl any sort of those things. That's something Wooyoung or San would do." He interrupted you.

During his conversation with you, he didn't realize the little girl had already finished up all her cards, making her the winner. Jongho looked down at the 5 cards he still had left. He turned to you and frowned.

"See? Now you made me lose."

He sighed and looked at your daughter's smiling face. It was contagious and it made him smile as well.

"But since it's you I don't mind at all." He cooed at her, cupping her cheeks in the process.

He then turned to you.

"You however, it was your fault I lost. You should make it up to me." He said as he lifted your daughter in his arms as if she were only a feather.

You rolled your eyes.

"And how do you want me to make it up to you?"

Jongho smirked at you. Since the beginning, he had been asking you constantly to be his, and this time, it was no different.

"Say yes."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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cygnetofthesea · 3 years

Text

Across the Screen: Élite Fanfic

Nadia looks at Guzman for a long moment, her chest aching at the softness in his eyes. Even through a blue-light screen she could see the absolute love and adoration he held just for her. It never ceased to flip her heart inside her chest and it made it all the harder when she had to stay away from him.

And it was all the harder now, miles away with an ocean between them. The thought leaves a heavy weight and a painful twist inside her. She smiles tightly and looks away, trying to shield the sudden sadness in her eyes.

But of course, he was as tuned in to her as always.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly.

She shakes her head and forces her smile to look more natural as she looks back up. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Nadia, I know you. I know your silences all too well. Something is on your mind." His soft eyes shift then, looking vulnerable. "You can always tell me. You know that, right?"

Her smile this time was a lot more genuine, widening. She looks at him and nods, shifting her laptop to angle the screen better.

"Yes, I know. You're going to think I'm being ridiculous."

He lets out a startled laugh. "How could I ever think that, Nadia? You and I both know very well I'm the ridiculous one."

That gets a giggle out of her, her face moving closer to the screen with her laughter. He beams in response, feeling his chest swell at the knowledge that he could still make her laugh like that. He vowed to make sure he did it often.

"Now that we've cleared up any confusion, will you tell me?" he asks.

He leans back against his headboard, resting the laptop closer so his face takes up more of her screen. She loved his face in that moment and took a screenshot, wanting to come back to it when she was feeling low.

"I just," she looks away, biting her lip. "I just worry about you and I hate that we're apart. Especially after what just happened."

The last thing she wanted was to bring up painful memories of what had happened just a month ago. Guzman had been doing surprisingly well, all things considered and Nadia was fearful that bringing it up now would be hard on him, worse now that she wasn't there to comfort him.

"I miss you," she utters softly, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

"Nadia." He says her name in a whisper but she hears the crack in his voice and feels that twinge in her chest once again. She put that crack in his voice. She shouldn't have said anything. "Nadia, please, look at me."

She quells the tears, blinking before meeting his gaze.

She can see his hand is extended on his side as though he was touching the screen in a vain attempt to reach her skin. It was a poor substitution but she knew she couldn't help return the gesture herself. Especially when she saw his glassy eyes looking back at her.

But there's a sweet, gentle smile that graces his lips, his thick brows furrowed upward in an affectionate and loving way.

He sighs her name again, his eyes roving across her face. Miles away and she can still feel the intensity of them burning through her, filling every molecule in her body.

"Nadia."

She lets out a shaky breath, her heart pattering against her chest. "Yes?"

"I was wrong: you are ridiculous."

His response catches her by surprise and she can't help the peel of laughter that escapes her, her head tossing back. Just like that, the heavy weight is gone and she's filled with his accompanying chuckle. Behind her closed eyes, shut in laughter, she can picture his beaming face perfectly.

Eyes crinkled as he smiles widely, his teeth in full display with hints of his gum. Allah, she loved that smile so much.

When she settles down and looks back at him, she saw that beautiful face as she pictured it. "Hmm, see and that is why I'm the smarter one between the two of us. How did I know you would say that?"

His broad grin relaxes, soft again. "Because I know you and because you are the smarter one. But you're not ridiculous for loving me, you're ridiculous for thinking I would believe your feelings to be. Never, Nadia. Your feelings are everything to me. You are everything to me."

She instinctively reaches out to caress his face, letting out a sigh when her fingers meet the screen once again. She pulls back and instead settles her fingers against her lips, wishing she could feel his skin there instead.

"Besides," he continues. "I'm too busy missing you to think of anything else."

She lets out a wet chuckle, her tears betraying her as they fill her eyes again. But she refuses to let them fall.

"I feel like that too." She looks around her new apartment that feels so foreign and sterile, devoid of warmth.

She had arrived at the New York City apartment she and Lu found together just a few days ago but it had already felt too long. Once Lu saw the state of the freshman dorms, she had immediately prowled for an affordable but luxurious apartment for the two of them that could be covered with their housing scholarship money. Lu may have been broke, but she was still very new to living a frugal life.

You could take the riches away from the girl but not the girl from the riches. But Lu had already proven herself to be quite resourceful if her Reverse Valentine's Party was any indication and had found them a nice apartment near campus, albeit a very, very small apartment. This didn't bother Nadia who was used to making do with what she had and loved their new place but Lu had huffed and whined about how this was the best she could find.

But as cozy as Nadia had found their apartment, it felt cold and empty. Or perhaps that was just what she felt.

Nadia shakes her head, annoyed with herself. "I really am excited for this new experience," she tells Guzman. "I mean, this is unlike anything I've ever had before. I've never been outside of Madrid before, too busy with school and helping my family with the store so this is huge for me. To not only study at a top school but to experience life in one of the most metropolitan and famous cities. It's amazing and I'm forever grateful, I just…"

She trails off, feeling ridiculous again. Who was she? The Nadia from two years ago would have shaken this mopey one sitting in one of the most exciting cities in the world. All because of a boy?

"I miss you too," she hears Guzman say. "So much."

And that's when she thinks, no, not just for any boy, but the boy she was in love with. The boy who fought for her in a way no one ever had. A boy who took her by surprise with his love and selflessness.

Nadia was always a tough person. She had resigned herself to looking out for herself from a young age when May would run off somewhere, sometimes days on end if not hours. Or when Omar would hang out with Samuel without her, only taking pity on her years later when they both realized she was essentially friendless after May left. But through all that--being abandoned by her siblings, dealing with the pressure from her parents and their immigrant's dream--Nadia learned to take care of herself. She learned to put aside her feelings and use her to head to get things done. She learned how to compartmentalize and push back the tears so her parents wouldn't see after May's departure left them broken. She learned to focus on tangible goals like grades and awards and scholarships.

But along the way, she forgot how to live. She forgot what it meant to be a young girl. She forgot what it meant to be a teenager, exploring her identity.

Then a pretty rich boy she hadn't looked twice made her look and helped her live simply by being there and supporting her every step of the way. He held an unwavering faith in her that even she didn't have. Sure, she believed in herself, knew she was smart, but there were moments of doubt when she would wonder if she could really live up to her parents expectations. Hell, her own expectations.

But Guzman never doubted her, not once. And it wasn't because he thought she was some superhuman that was leagues better than him--well, perhaps it was partially that--but it was also because he saw her for all her faults and finesse. For what made her flawed and yet perfect to him.

It was his faith in her that spurred this fire in him to stand by her, to protect her opportunities and make sure nothing stood in her way of achieving everything she ever wanted and deserved. Who did that?

How could she not love this boy? How could she not miss that boy?

Because with him, Nadia felt like she could sit for a moment and take a breath. With him, Nadia felt like she could stop and smell the roses every so often instead of constantly barreling to achieve one goal after another. With him she felt like she could slow down just a little and live. Be the young teenager that she actually was but that it didn't mean she had to lose sight of her ambitions.

So yes, she missed this boy, but Guzman was a boy worthy of her affections.

"Me too," she replies.

"I feel relieved that you miss me, that you love me, because I'm selfish and insecure like that," he chuckles bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I love you more and I don't want you to worry about me. Ok? I'm a big boy."

Nadia quirks a thick brow and lets a sly grin slip. "Maybe let's not talk about what a big boy you are right now. Lu's due back at the apartment soon."

She knew that wasn't what he meant but couldn't help teasing him. She loved seeing the playful look in his eyes and the inexplicable blush that would rise up his freckled cheeks. She still marvels at the awed look he gives her whenever she says or does anything that indicates she wants him. Guzman was no prude when she met him and he wasn't one with her either. They had seen, felt, and tasted every patch of skin on each other, a handful of times too, especially before her departure, and yet he never ceased to blush around her, his lashes lowering gently. It was one of the many surprising and endearing things about him.

"I like that's where your head is, minx," he says with a wink. "And we will most definitely get to that when we don't have intruders, but I mean it. You don't need to worry about me. I mean, don't forget about me, but don’t fret, my love. Not for me."

She sighs, feeling the tightening in her chest lighten at his words. There was a resolve in his gaze, a strength in them that she knew she had for her. He was being brave for her even though she knew he missed her just as fiercely.

"Our story has only just begun," he says. "That makes me happy."

"Even if it's seven hours away?"

He nods, his smile widening. "Yes, even then. Because it's you, Nadia. I knew what I was getting into when I pursued you, I knew it wasn't going to be typical, but you make my life better so it's all worth it. I would climb Everest for you."

She stroked her screen where she could see the laugh lines on his cheek. "I would too, you know?"

"You would?" He seems so boyishly hopeful then.

"Yes. You're worth it."

They pause to look at one another before Guzman lets out a smirk. "Well, let's tackle your parents first and telling them about us."

"That is climbing Everest," she says with a giggle. She thought he would laugh with her but when she catches the seriousness in his expression, she realizes the implication of her words. She would fight for him when the time came, she would face her parents and their inevitable ire and disapproval for him.

And as she mulled over that thought, her mind flashing to different versions of her parents' reaction, she knew it to be true. It was daunting but she knew in her heart that he was the one for her.

She nods, looking him in the eye. "Yes, I would climb Everest for you."

He leans closer to the screen until it darkens and she hears a smooch on the other end before his face appears on the screen. He had kissed his camera in lieu of kissing her. She put a hand on her thumping heart and returned the gesture with a wobbly smile.

"And until then?" he asks, biting the inside of his lip.

She ponders this. She hates missing him, hates feeling like her heart is in Madrid while the rest of her is in New York, but she would learn to cope. She would learn to love him across the ocean, across the computer screen while she built a life for herself, for them.

"Until then, we live. We live for ourselves, for each other, for the life we can build together. We focus on our studies and call each other. We push each other to be better and be there for each other when the other is suffering from sleep-deprived madness." She looks at him softly. "We love each other."

He lets out a wet, gasping sound, a cross between a sob and laugh, while nodding repeatedly. "Yes, yes, yes. I like the sound of that. I can manage that."

"That's good to hear. Me too."

Her eyes catch the clock near his bed, the very same she had told him to get rid of when it woke them up one morning with a horrifying blare. It was late in Madrid, already the next day even if it was only evening in New York. She could see the exhaustion under his eyes.

"It's late," she says. "You should get some sleep."

He shakes his head before she can get the words out. "No, no, I'm not tired," he says even as a yawn interrupts him.

She giggles and fixes him with a stern look. "Who's always right?" she asks, tilting her ear toward the screen, putting a hand up to cup around it. "Let me hear you say it."

He rolls his eyes teasingly. "Ok, ok, you are. Seriously, I'm going to have dreams of you scolding me." He pauses and rubs his bottom lip thoughtfully. "That might not be a bad thing. Might actually enjoy that."

She feels heat creep up her neck and brushes the skin under her ear, the space he'd kiss waking her up from a nap or every time he wrapped his arms around her from behind, or every time they….

She had to stop that particular train of thought and shook her head at him. "You enjoy that. But the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can dream of me."

He blinks slowly, the tell-tale sign that he was sleepy and would be nodding off soon. "Stay on until I fall asleep?" he asks, sliding his body down until he’s underneath his covers. He sets the laptop beside him, the space she would occupy when she visited him, and cups a hand underneath his cheek.

"You're so beautiful. I love you, Nadia."

She settles into her own bed even though she wasn't tired and set her laptop on the side Guzman would have occupied had he been there. When he would be there.

"I love you, Guzman," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear. "Sweet dreams."

He keeps his eyes on her for as long as his heavy lids allow before drifting off to sleep with a gentle smile on his lips.

Nadia wasn't certain what the future would bring, but as she looked at the sleeping face of the love of her life, she felt a surety in her heart. They would be just fine.

#Guznadia #Guzman x Nadia #Guzman Nunier #Nadia Shana #Elite #Netflix Elite #Guznadia Fanfiction #Guznadia Fanfic

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bjornthorsson20 · 3 years

Text

The Broken Side of a Flaming Soul

As he walked through the school corridors, Harry Potter decided he had enough. His best friend was being completely unreasonable about this, and he couldn't stand to see him lose a chance to finally admit to himself what the whole House could already see.

The Yule Ball was just around the corner, and everyone was already running around like headless chickens trying to find a date. After being shot down by Cho Chang, Harry had recovered fast and, after making sure Ron was ok with it, he was going with Ginny. On the other hand, Ron had resigned himself to not going, not even bothering to try and find another date after his embarrassing invitation to Fleur Delacour that'd been made in a sudden stupor caused by her Veela powers.

When asked, Ron would just shrug and answer, "there isn't anyone that catches my eye, mate", forcing a chuckle in the hopes he'd drop the subject. Harry did, but he could see straight through that lie. He knew the real reason Ron wouldn't ask anyone else; he already had someone in mind.

And that someone happened to be their best friend, Hermione Granger.

Everyone that knew these two, or had witnessed their interactions all these years could already tell they were made for each other. The only problem was that they couldn't see it, apparently.

Harry first noticed in 3rd year, after that Hogsmeade trip they spent without him. They came back giggling at each other, and blushing whenever they happened to catch the other glancing in their direction. Their hands almost touched, their fingers twitching a little. From that day on, they'd keep this behaviour when they were in the common room doing homework, even around Harry. Without noticing, Ron would sit a bit closer than usual to Hermione and their elbows would end up bumping at some point, which would make their cheeks turn pink. They would continue to stare holes through their parchment before Ron would distance himself a bit, repeating the cycle until it was time to call it a night. Hermione would then rush upstairs faster than a Snitch after muttering a good night to Ron (and only Ron).

Then the Crookshanks and Scabbers fight happened, and Harry was seriously worried they would just call it quits on their friendship entirely. Thankfully, that argument was solved rather amiably, and the two resumed their awkward relationship soon after.

So, when the Yule Ball was announced, Harry thought that it would be the chance for them to finally get their feelings out in the open after a glorious romantic night. But alas, Ron was being his pigheaded self, and simply refused to ask Hermione as his date on account of his dress robes being horrible. "Why even bother going?" he'd grumble.

Harry thought that was rubbish, honestly. Why would Hermione care what Ron wore for the Ball? He knew that Hermione wasn't superficial like that, so, surely Ron had to know. There had to be some other reason he wasn't telling him about, and Harry was going to get it out of him today. And make sure Hermione heard it as well.

Harry had to suppress a grin as he thought back to his brilliant plan to get the two together at last. One day he pulled Ginny aside in the common room and asked her for a favor. She listened intently and, as he went on, the grin on her face kept growing and growing. He was glad Ron and Hermione hadn't noticed him slip away, as they were too busy with their awkward "elbow bumping" homework routine to pay him any mind.

Finally, Harry's feet had dragged him to the library entrance as he shook himself from his thoughts and went in, already knowing the table he was looking for. He made a beeline for one near the back, separated by a bookshelf from the farthest one, where he knew a certain bushy-haired witch sat everytime.

Ron was already there waiting for him, with a book opened up as he leaned an elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. Harry was surprised to see Ron actually reading a book that didn't involve Quidditch, though he was definitely just pretending to read as he waited; Ron didn't read, that was Hermione's thing!

Harry quickly sat down as Ron finally looked up and fixed him with an unreadable expression. Harry grinned, hoping to lighten the conversation a bit before questioning his friend. Ron attempted to fake read again, but Harry wasn't going to let him avoid talking this time, so he pulled away the book.

"C'mon, mate, stop pretending to be interested in this. You're gonna talk to me." Harry took a look at the cover and snorted, "Immediate Transfiguration. Mate, you seriously expect me to believe you were willingly reading up on homework?" Ron snatched back the book and upon noticing his expression, Harry stopped laughing. Ron's face was set in a deep frown, gripping the book hard, and Harry noticed his lower lip tremble slightly before he bit it and stared a hole through the cover.

Suddenly, the air around them seemed very thick and tense, almost cold, as Harry glanced at his friend, stunned by the sudden shift in mood. That was, until Ron spoke in an unusually weak voice for him, which startled Harry.

"Yes, I was reading this book for real. Figured I could finally follow Hermione's advice and try to learn something to make myself worthwhile in class, saving McGonagall the stress and disappointment. But judging by your reaction, I guess I'm too much of a joke at this point to be smart in any way. I should've left it to Hermione. It's her thing." He spat the last two words venomously, further scaring Harry.

What happened? This didn't sound like Ron at all. Harry was seriously expecting Ron to look at him, laugh at his face and tell him he had gotten him good. But Ron kept looking at the book, and his hands had started shaking slightly.

Harry was about to break the uncomfortable silence when Ron spoke first.

"Harry, I know why you called me here, ok? So, let's get right to it so I can go back to our dorm and hide myself in there for the rest of today." His tone sounded detached, as if he had been rehearsing these lines in his head as he sat there waiting.

"Ron, I'm sor-"

"Forget it."

"No, lis-"

"Drop it." Even though Harry had said these same words to Ron when he tried apologizing to him after the First Task, the way Ron said them wasn't the firm, yet friendly, way in which Harry did. This time they were icy, as if Ron wasn't even going to accept his apology.

Deciding to just head on straight to the point, Harry asked, "Why won't you take Hermione to the Ball with you? Don't even try to say it's those dress robes, I know that's rubbish." He tried cracking a smile but his lips just kept a straight line on his face as he waited for Ron's answer. This whole thing just seemed silly now, and Harry desperately wished he could change Ron's mood somehow. This wasn't going as planned at all.

"You want the truth, then?" Ron's voice now sounded completely normal all of a sudden, as if he wasn't dreading the answer at all, something that immediately caused Harry's stomach to turn uneasily, nervous about what Ron would say.

Harry just nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment, and waited with bated breath as Ron sighed and sunk lower in his chair. He was still half expecting Ron to tell him it was the ultimate prank on him; for Fred and George to come out from under the table and join Ron in laughing at his expense.

What he heard instead made his heart sink.

"Ok, I'll give you the truth. The truth is, I'm not going to bother with something I know won't work. I won't allow myself to go to that Ball in those dreadful robes that'll make me look like a clown in front of the whole school, just so I can fool myself into thinking Hermione and I will have a great night that'll end with us declaring our love for each other. Because that won't happen, outside of my wildest dreams. I know Hermione doesn't feel the same way and I can live with that, although I'm not fucking okay with it. But who am I to say if it's okay or not? I can't be the selfish git trying to dictate who she should or shouldn't like."

He paused to look towards the ceiling as if bracing himself for the next part, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"Hermione deserves to go to the Ball with someone that can give her a great night and a promise of something more, someone like, I don't know, Krum. Rich, famous, talented, and everything a girl wants for her future. I'll be bloody jealous, really, when I see her waltzing in with Krum or any bloke, for that matter, but that's just stupid. Being jealous of someone you aren't even dating is already low, and being jealous of someone who you don't even have a chance with is bloody pathetic. Really, who would take me? Poor, ugly, rude, vulgar, stupid, clumsy…"

Ron looked at Harry for the first time since he started speaking, and let out a mirthless chuckle at Harry's shocked expression. "I'm surprised Hermione and I are even friends; that she puts up with me when she can rattle off a list of all that's wrong with me, which just further proves I'm hopeless and I don't have a single worthwhile thing about me."

Harry was already feeling sick from everything he had heard. He tried to stop Ron from going on, but Ron just raised his hand and fixed him with a stern look, effectively silencing him, and resumed speaking.

"You are Harry Potter, enough said. I know you don't ask for the attention, but you're headed to greatness, mate. Your path has been set. Hermione is… do I even need to say it? She's brilliant, the smartest witch of her age and all that, and she's gonna rule the world one day. Even if I don't agree with how she goes about things sometimes, that whole S.P.E.W. thing shows she wants to bring a positive change to the world and she'll do that someday. Heck, even Ginny will do great one day, I just know it. Don't tell her I said that, though."

"Then there's me, honestly, can you point out a single thing you can say I'm good at? And, I don't want to hear you say things like "you're brave, you're funny, you're kind". No, I want actual talent for something." Ron stopped talking then to look quizzically at Harry, but by the time he realized he was supposed to answer, it was too late and Ron blurted out, "See? Nothing. None of the subjects here, nothing in these books, I'm not good at a single damn thing that at least 10 other wizards can't do better. I guess there's chess, but no one has ever taken that as something serious from me. It's just a game, anyway, not a career potential."

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, what people have been wondering all this time in the corridors is true. Why am I your friend, Harry? Why do you let me hang around you? Is it because I'm a joke, and it's funny to see me fail? Is it because you pity me, knowing no one else would have me? You can just, let me go, mate, don't let me keep dragging you down and distracting you from schoolwork. Merlin knows I can't even write in a legible enough way, so don't let yourself get dumbed down by me. One day, you're both going to realize I'm just deadweight anyway, so, just let me go. It'll make it easier for me to be alone and not have to constantly live in your shadows."

The silence that accompanied this speech would have been deafening, had Harry's ears not already been thundering with a million things in his mind that were just waiting to burst from his mouth in response to his friend. But Harry couldn't speak, he was quite literally stunned into silence by the slap that was felt by all of his friend's words.

Ron finally heaved a giant sigh before standing up, looking down to avoid Harry's gaze as he quickly muttered, "Put the book back on the shelf for me before you go, please", then promptly rushed out of the library.

Harry didn't move though, he literally couldn't. His whole body felt numb, aside from his heart, which was now clenching painfully in his chest.

Harry wondered what had happened to Ron. But there was nothing new. Ron had simply shown his vulnerable side. A side of him Harry had failed to notice before.

He heard a sob from behind the bookshelf, and a wave of guilt immediately came crashing down.

"What have you done?"

#ron weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #ginny weasley #angst #fanfiction #romione #romione fanfic #ron x hermione #multichapter #bjornthorsson20

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

v e l o c i t y - chapter ii

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. It’s being constantly updated

John’s P.O.V.

God fucking damn it. Just what the hell was going on back in Bobby’s house and why the hell wasn’t he picking up the phone?

For the first time since I left her behind, I found myself considering I should have at least given my omega - no, not my omega, just Y/N - enough attention to ask her for her number. At least it would have been handy in a time like this one, where my heart was pumping loudly, shortening my breathing, and making it difficult for me to focus. I just wanted to know what was going on, but there was no way I could tap into an unfulfilled bond to see what had scared Y/N so badly.

A sharp pang in my stomach had me abruptly turning the impala around and returning to the direction we had left behind two weeks before, much to the boys’ surprise. I made sure to ignore their open mouths and raised eyebrows, but I should know better than to hope that they’d quietly accept this change of plans.

“Where are we going?” Dean asked, while Sam rubbed off the sleep from his face.

“Back to Bobby’s,” I barked, and I knew that my tone didn’t allow for any follow-up questions. Still, Dean couldn’t help himself. He had been (sometimes not so) subtly teasing me about the girl, making jokes about how I probably wouldn’t even be able to handle the needs of a young body, anything to get a reaction from me.

“Forgot something there?” I knew what he was implying, and even though it couldn’t be further from the truth, I couldn’t find it in myself to explain just yet. Terror made my heartbeat clear and quick on my ears, and I hated it. It wasn’t a feeling that was familiar, but considering it truly belonged to someone else, it was just beyond irritating.

“Something like that.”

Stepping on the pedal as I was once again flooded with a panic that didn’t belong to me, I found myself praying I’d be able to make it there in time to stop whatever the hell was going on. To whom I was praying, I didn’t know, just as I couldn’t explain why the hell I cared.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I squeezed my knees tighter to my body, trying to make myself smaller while attempting to control my breathing at the same time. It wasn’t easy, especially since my heartbeat was all over the place.

At least the screaming has subdued. Although that did little to appease my concern, it did help in my task of hiding in this safe room inside the empty basement. Just before Bobby managed to shove me in here, the last thing he told me was to keep quiet and still until someone came to get me, but now that his voice had been gone for a while and he still hadn’t reappeared, I doubted anyone would come looking for me.

Still, I couldn’t find it in myself to uncurl my body from this somewhat calm-inducing position and actually step out of the room to go explore the house. Not when I could still remember so clearly what I found when my dad was murdered. And I couldn’t see the same done with Bobby. I just couldn’t. Not when that meant that I was completely alone, with no one to worry about me in this entire world.

Tears rose, prompting me to blink them away, scared that once I allowed myself to grieve, I wouldn’t be able to stop. This wasn’t the time or the place. My life could very well still be in danger. And I couldn’t let Bobby’s… disappearance be for nothing. No. He put himself at risk for me, I’d abide by his wishes.

First things first, I’d stay right here, not moving a muscle. If nothing came to find me, then I’d slowly make my way out of this hiding spot… once I deemed it was safe enough to do so.

But for now, there wasn’t much I could do, other than focus on my breathing and keep quiet. Real quiet. And watch time slowly go by. Praying that if something did come to find me, it would come in with a friendly face.

John’s P.O.V.

“Shit.” It was all I said as I barely managed to park the car right outside Bobby’s place before leaping out of it. It was pretty obvious something had happened over here, if not by the fact that the front door was slammed open, at least by the tracks of something that had been dragged over the front lawn, looking too much like a body not to make every single nerve end on my body stand to attention again.

At least I was feeling something again, and even if it was from my own system and not hers, I considered it a good sign. Halfway through the drive the panic that had been steadily building had completely disappeared, and I almost believed, if only for a second, something had happened to her - only to realize that if someone had killed my mate, I would have definitely known.

I still didn’t want to think about her as being my mate, but the existence of this connection between us was undeniable, especially as I bursted into the house, gun in my hand, to find blood fucking everywhere. The feelings of worry skyrocketed - I wanted to attribute them to her, but I knew they were mine. Just what the fuck had happened here and where the fuck was her?

I could hear the boys walking around the house behind me. I couldn’t give them any attention. My mind was occupied with her and only her, needing to know that she was safe, almost desperate to know where the heck she was.

Bobby was a smart man. If he had noticed even an inkling of something going South, he’d have found a way to protect her. I just had to figure out what it was. Gun still in hand, although it was pretty clear that whatever it was that had been here had left long ago, I encircled the sofa and started to make my way down to the basement, remembering a conversation I’d had with Bobby one of the many times I came to visit.

“There’s an old closet in the back of the room downstairs,” he’d said. “It’d make for a good panic room, if I ever ended up having something I needed to keep safe.” Despite never having seen it, it wasn’t too hard to find it once I managed to turn on the lights. It really was made to be imperceptible for someone who wasn’t looking for it, but since that wasn’t my case, the difference in the wood texture of the walls sorely jumped out to my eyes, and I reached out to curve the barely existent nail of my thumb on the indentation until I was able to pull it open.

And there she was.

She was asleep, head resting on her knees, tucked away into the corner of the closet-sized room. A sigh of relief fell out of my mouth before I could reel it in, my heart clenching at the adorable sight before I snapped myself out of it. Fuck, no. This wasn’t any sentimental mate shit. This was me, worried about another living human being - one that had been placed under my friend’s care after having lost her entire family. That was all there was to it.

Still, I was careful when I reached out to put a hand on top of her, hoping it would suffice to pull her from her slumber. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for that fucking connection to call out at the feeling of her skin under my calloused fingers, her eyes snapping open in shock and her mouth opening in clear intent to scream her lungs out.

“Shhhh… It’s just me. Shut the fuck up,” I groaned, one hand clasped over her mouth as I pulled her up with me and drag us out of the panic room. From the corner of my eye, I could see the boys had caught on to what had happened, and were clearly relieved to see her safe, despite the lack of indication as to where Bobby could be.

After the initial shock, she finally stopped mumbling against my palm and took a deep breath, probably taking in the reality of the situation. It was just us. No immediate danger around.

I don’t think she even noticed when I slipped out from behind her, finally uncovering her mouth so I could try to understand what the hell had happened around here. The lack of contact between our skin, however, was sorely felt by my alpha genes, that begged me to look for her softness again, keep it close to me.

“Bobby?” Just that question made it clear we wouldn’t be getting much answers from her. Before I could say anything, Dean shook his head with an apologetic smile, and despite her falling down on a couch nearby, much to my surprise, she didn’t start crying or screaming again. If anything, she took the news (or lack of them) with quiet resignation, something that intrigued me to no end.

She’d lost everything, but instead of behaving like some poor little omega, she just accepted that this was her life now.

“Didn’t you hear anything?” I finally asked, and had to suppress a smug grin when her eyes immediately snapped up to meet mine, easily abandoning Dean’s gaze.

“Screams. But I couldn’t make out what was being said, it just seemed…” She hesitated then, like she needed to gather some strength to keep talking about it, but still, she pushed through. “It just seemed like they were torturing him, you know? It didn’t last long, but it was…”

She didn’t need to say it, it was easy to understand. Haunting. Devastating. I can’t imagine how it must have been like to be stuck in that spot, desperately wanting to help - because I knew it had been the case, I could feel it through our… bond, as nonexistent as it was - and being absolutely terrified about what could be waiting on the other side.

I had the overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around her, feel her body against mine again and comfort her mind with my presence. It was so strong, in fact, that I had to bury my fingernails in my palms in order to stop myself from doing that, but since the urge remained, I distracted my animalistic side with some practical tasks that needed to be dealt with.

“Okay, let’s get the hell out of here. Sam, did you pack her stuff?” Knowing my youngest had gone up to the second floor and was easily the most prepared out of all of us, it didn’t surprise me when he answered by simply holding up a duffel in his hands. “Alright, then let’s hit the road.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Taken by surprise and ripped from my admittedly dark thoughts, I whipped around to stare at the older man who looked like this was just another ordinary day, like he hadn’t just very clearly tried to alter the course of my existence. But instead of providing me with any sort of explanation, he just reached out for my arm and pulled me from the couch, dragging me all the way to the main floor of the house and out of it before I was able to speak again.

“Stop! Hold on!” I managed to release my wrist from his grip, but I don’t think he would have even realized I was speaking if it weren’t from the sudden lack of contact between our bodies.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The omega in me wanted to recoil at the sight of her alpha looking at us with such anger, but he wasn’t our alpha. And he definitely had no right to come here and take control of my life like I had no say in the matter whatsoever.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shot back, and his mouth hung open in surprise. It almost made me feel smug about myself, knowing I had the power to shock the great John Winchester, who thought he was too good to become someone’s mate, but I was too angry to even acknowledge that. “You can’t just come in here and take me away, that’s not how it works.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe.” From the little I knew of him, considering our limited encounters and the stories Bobby and other hunters had told me about, I knew he was a man of few words, but even my irate state of mind could identify the warning bells on the way he uttered that simple sentence, paired with the sight of the veins on his forearms as he clenched his hands into fists.

Still, I pressed on.

“Who gave you that responsibility? Bobby was my godfather, my father trusted him, I know next to nothing about you. In fact, I want to keep knowing next to nothing about you. Just the same as you want when it comes to me, I’m certain.”

Waves of anger radiated from him, and even Sam and Dean seemed tense from a distance, where they stood by the car, watching our altercation. Guess seeing their dad this furious wasn’t as usual as I figured it would be, considering the Alpha inside of him.

“Why is it so hard for you to just obey? Get inside the car. I’m not gonna ask you again.” Of course, he could have made me obey, if he wanted to. One order from their alpha and any omega would fall to their knees, the genetic pull too strong to ignore. But he didn’t use his alpha voice, he used his John voice, and if at first that surprised me, believing it to be from a place of respect, the realization that it was most likely because he didn’t want to recognize that our bond even existed only filled me with even more anger.

“I am not getting in that car with you.” I braced myself for what he could do, trying to harden my soul so it wouldn’t hurt to see him leave - that’s what I wanted, right? - while also preparing to fight if he finally relented and took advantage of his manipulation power, but there was just no way I could anticipate him shortening the distance between us and easily throwing me over his shoulder like I was nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

John’s P.O.V.

Fucking stupid ‘mega. Is she actively trying to get herself killed? Everyone around her has died in the last few months, what makes her think she can survive on her own? Why the fuck couldn’t she just be a good fucking girl and obey me? I hated that I had to resort to this, I hated having to touch her again, and especially have her over my shoulder, where I could feel the smell of her hair as it fighted against the wind and she tried to punch my back.

I grunted as I deposited her on the copilot seat, immediately locking the door so she wouldn’t be able to run away. The boys took their places in the backseat while I made my way to the driver’s seat, and although Dean didn’t look all that happy to be confined back there, it couldn’t come close to the burning expression with which she regarded me.

“Don’t you look at me like that,” I growled. “You’re coming and that’s final.”

“You don’t want me! Why are you taking me with you?” She was nearly yelling by then, arms waving around like a lunatic, and I had to to grind my teeth together so I wouldn’t reach out and…

I don’t know what I wanted to do, to be honest. I just knew that my head was pounding and I could still fill the weight of her body over my shoulder, like her skin had burned the fabric of my shirt and imprinted the shape of her body on my soul.

“You must be really fucking stupid if you think I’m gonna leave you out there, all alone.” That, thank the lord, was enough to shut her up, but I figured out pretty soon that she didn’t need to open her mouth to find new ways to annoy me.

“Driver picks the music,” I warned, lightly slapping her hand when she reached for the radio, but the infuriating little thing only slapped mine back and changed the station anyway.

“Maybe on a road trip. If you don’t want this to be recognized as a kidnapping, it’s the least you can do.” God, she was infuriating. I clenched my hands on the wheel, mulling the words I wanted to say over my head and I still wasn’t able to stop the threat from spilling.

“I swear to God, I’m not above pulling over and spanking you until you’re not able to walk for a whole week.” The second her eyes met mine, I knew trouble was coming my way, and still I was unprepared when the next words fell from her lips.

“And you think that’s punishment?” I couldn’t help it, the question provoked me into thoughts I definitely did not want to be having about her, my ears burning up as I realized that she could very easily read my reactions to figure out what was going on through my head - especially since my eyes automatically trailed over her body.

“You know what? I changed my mind. Take me wherever you’d like.” And with that, she threw one leg over the other, a dangerous smile taking over her face. “I think you and I are gonna have a lot of fun together, John Winchester.”

#my series #john winchester angst #john winchester #angst #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #john winchester fanfiction #john winchester fan fic

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javajunkieao3 · 3 years

Text

Never Have I Ever: Post-Series Fic

Ben Gross prided himself on being smart. And falling in love with Devi Vishwakumar? Well, that was just about the dumbest thing he could do.

But, it happened anyway.

He didn’t exactly know when, but somewhere between first grade and watching her dance with that tool, Paxton Hall-Yoshida, she had gone from the person he always wanted to beat to someone he genuinely hoped would win. Because she deserved that. After everything she went through with her dad and then everything after, she deserved a win.

But, did that win have to be him?

“Of course, it’s him,” Ben said, voice colored with defeat and just a hint of indignation. He still hated losing. Even if he technically wasn’t in this game. Aneesa was waiting for him over by the punch. “It’s always been him.”

Beside him, Eleanor said, “What? No, it hasn’t. After you took her to Malibu, she wanted to choose you.”

Ben listened incredulously as Eleanor explained how she and Fabiana had talked Devi out of choosing him. It was fucked up, and he was going to tell her as much, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Devi, imagining how different things would have been. It would have been him with her, not that glorified meat puppet.

“So, just for the record, it hasn’t always been him.”

Eleanor walked off after dropping her figurative bomb and he stayed rooted in place, not knowing what to do or think next. He wasn’t used to this level of indecisiveness and he probably would have just stayed there, staring at Devi dance with another guy, if Aneesa hadn’t come over, sliding her hand over his shoulder.

“Hey, I thought you were meeting me over by the punch,” she said, glancing over at where he had just been staring. “Oh wow, good for Devi.”

Aneesa looked up at Ben, noting the tense set of his jaw. “But…you don’t think that.”

“What?” he said immediately, finally looking away from the slow train wreck happening across the dance floor. “I don’t care about them. I mean, he’s a tool who, based on what I’ve seen, can barely read above an eighth grade level. But, I don’t care.”

“Uh, yeah, you do.”

“Aneesa-“

“Ben, I saw the way you were looking at them. At her.”

He went to argue, but then realized he had no defense. Aneesa ducked her chin to her chest.

“Okay. So, I guess I’m going to go now.” She turned to leave, but then stopped, turning back. “Don’t mess this up for her?”

He didn’t know what he hated more, the implication that he would mess things up or the fact that Aneesa was maybe a little right. The song ended and he watched Paxton and Devi kiss before Paxton dipped his mouth to her ear. Devi nodded at whatever he said, and then Paxton walked away, not letting go of her hand until the distance made it necessary. Devi’s grin widened and Ben hated Paxton even more.

Devi stood alone on the dance floor for a moment, seeming blissfully content, and then she caught his gaze. Ben noticed that her grin dimmed slightly and then she walked over, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say,” she began.

“No, actually, you don’t.”

She widened her eyes slightly. “Okay. Then, what are you going to say?”

I know you wanted to choose me.

“I’m happy for you, Devi.”

It wasn’t what she expected, and not what he wanted, so they both felt out of sorts. But then her shoulders slackened, a genuine smile spreading on her face, and Ben knew he did the right thing. Because she deserved the win. Even if it wasn’t him.

“Thanks, Ben.”

Paxton came over with two glasses of punch and handed Devi one, his now free arm going around her waist. He gave Ben a lukewarm hello which, given their history, wasn’t entirely unfounded.

“Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Devi said.

“See you around, David.”

Paxton looked at him strangely, but Devi only smiled wider.

-----

There were only a few weeks left in the school year after the dance, and Ben did his best to keep his distance from Devi. She hovered a bit after learning about his and Aneesa’s breakup, but then they all got busy with finals and then the schoolyear ended. Ben was grateful for the time apart. He didn’t know how long it took to fall out of love with someone, but he figured summer break’s three Devi-free-months should do the trick.

That summer, he lined up a volunteer program to pad his college applications just like every other summer. He was supposed to help out with pro bono work at his dad’s firm, but at the last minute his dad hired a law clerk instead so that he could bill out his time at a markup. So, he was stuck with a retirement home. Everyone volunteered at retirement homes, which meant it was the last thing Ben wanted to put on his resume. But, there was nothing else left and it was better than nothing, so he grudgingly accepted a spot at one about fifteen minutes from his house and prepared himself for a summer of moth balls and stories about “the war”.

Instead, he got Devi.

“I thought you were working at your dad’s firm this summer,” Devi said.

“Something came up. Weren’t you supposed to do Habitat for Humanity?”

Devi nodded. “I had an incident with a hammer. Apparently, you aren’t supposed to bedazzle it.”

Ben smirked. “You bedazzled your hammer?”

“Oh, yeah. I added feathers, too. Honestly, it was an upgrade.”

“I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to take you,” he mocked.

Devi shrugged. “Probably for the best. I mean, would you want a house built by me?”

“You make a fair point.”

“So, here we are,” Devi said. “Slumming it at the retirement home.”

“You may want to say that a little louder. I don’t think the guy in the back with the hearing aid heard you.”

“But, you know what, if anyone can make the best out this, it’s you and me, Gross.”

She flashed him a smile and he felt it all the way down to his toes. This was going to be a long three months.

----

It turned out, Ben was surprisingly adept at being around old people, and Devi was an immediate crowd pleaser.

“Even Marvin likes me,” Devi said. “And I’m pretty sure he’s a low-key racist.”

“Not that low key. He specifically asked me to help him fill out a banking form yesterday because, as he put it, your people are good at that.”

“Damn. Remind me to not give him an extra pudding cup.”

One of the long-time residents, Gladys, rolled by with her walker and said, “Benjamin, don’t forget my granddaughter is visiting this afternoon. I told her all about you.”

“I won’t forget, Gladys.”

“Look at you, Benjamin.” He rolled his eyes. “Using the residents to get a date. Honestly, it’s sort of genius. If I wasn’t dating Paxton, I would totally use these guys to pimp myself out.”

“Slow down, David. Gladys came to me about her granddaughter. I’m not that desperate. I have options.”

“Sure, you do, Ben.”

“But, um, you and Paxton? That’s going well?”

He didn’t know why he asked. You don’t ask the girl you’re in love with how her relationship is going, but he asked, and now he had no choice but to hear the answer.

“Yeah, it is,” Devi said. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she smiled, and Ben wished he could sink directly down into the ground.

“That’s great.”

“Yeah. It is.”

That afternoon, he asked Gladys’ granddaughter out on a date.

----

Ben could always tell when Devi and Paxton were fighting by her mood. She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and while in a relationship, that hadn’t changed. He noticed it a few weeks in. She went back into the employees’ area and shoved her bag forcefully into the cubby hole.

“Did the cubby hole do something to you?” he asked.

“No,” she said stubbornly. “The cubby hole is doing nothing. Which is the problem. The cubby hole just sits there playing video games all day. Which, sure, I can play some Mario Kart here and there. I’m a team player. But, at a certain point, enough with the stupid video games. I am not dating freaking Yoshi!”

Ben was quiet for a moment and then said, “I didn’t know a cubby hole had apposable thumbs to play video games.”

She shot him a look, but then couldn’t help but laugh.

“The cubby hole was a metaphor.”

“Yeah, I caught on to that.”

----

Ben found it remarkably easy to be around her, even as his feelings stayed rooted to the core, and at a certain point he became resigned to it all. Maybe Devi was just one of those people he would always have feelings for. Isn’t that what they said about your first love? You could move on, but you never really forgot it. So, he would love her and just move on.

He dated Gladys’ granddaughter, enjoying himself but never really feeling anything beneath surface level. But, she was nice enough, and Gladys was delighted by the pairing, even as the volunteer coordinator was not.

“Just don’t have sex anywhere on property,” she had said in a huff.

“I, uh, won’t. Thanks for the clarification.”

He was dating someone else. He and Devi were finally sort of back to how they were before. And then he accidentally ate pecans.

“Oh my God, Ben, your mouth is getting huge,” Devi said, eyes wide with concern.

“I am so sorry,” Gladys’ granddaughter said. “I thought the muffin was banana-walnut, not banana-pecan.”

“Do you have an Epi-Pen or something?” Devi barked at the terrified looking volunteer coordinator.

“No, and even if we did, I don’t think we can technically use it on a non-resident.”

“Are you freaking kidding me right now? Do you see him?” She pointed at Ben, whose face was rapidly growing in size. “You know what, I’ll just handle it myself.”

Devi dragged him out to her car, which was concerning since he knew she only just got her license the week before, and he also knew based on what she told him that her passing was a total fluke.

“I think I’d rather go into anaphylactic shock in there,” he said, already turning back toward the retirement home.

“Don’t be dumb, Ben,” she said, forcefully pulling him back to the car. “You are not going into anaphylactic shock. I’ll take you to my mom’s office and she can give you a shot or something. She’s only a few minutes away.”

He reluctantly got into the car, and Devi started her car, forgetting to put it into reverse before she pressed on the gas. The car lurched forward, nearly hitting the one parked in front of them, and Ben said, “Please don’t let me die in this car.”

“No one is dying today, Ben Gross. So, calm down, okay? I got this.”

It was not exactly a smooth ride, but true to her word, five minutes later they pulled into a parking spot in front of Dr. Vishwakumar’s office. They burst into the office, Ben now leaning a bit on Devi as it became harder to breath.

“I’m pretty sure I’m going into anaphylactic shock,” he gasped.

“No, you are not. You are fine.” Devi’s words were calm, but her tone was not.

Nalini Vishwakumar walked out of her office and stopped short when she saw Devi and Ben.

“What in the world – Benjamin, what happened to your face?”

“He ate pecans which, turns out, he’s also allergic to,” Devi said quickly. “Can you give him a shot or something?”

“Devi, you should have taken him to the emergency room!” Nalini said, rushing over to her daughter and Ben and bringing them back to an examination room.

“The hospital was farther away.”

Ben became to gasp for breath and Nalini hissed, “He’s going into anaphylactic shock.”

Ben could barely breathe, but he managed a, “Told you.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know!” Devi said loudly.

One shot of epinephrine and an IV full of antihistamines and cortisone later, Ben could breathe again, but Nilani made him stay for a while longer so that she could observe him. She put he and Devi in one of the unused examination rooms, and told them to let her know if he had any more trouble breathing. Devi sat next to him, her knees pulled tight into her chest.

“I’m sorry that I almost killed you.”

“You’re not getting valedictorian that easily.”

He was joking because, yeah, his throat had almost closed up and she probably should have taken him to the hospital and not her mom’s office, but it was fine now. Except, when he looked over at Devi, she still looked scared. After a beat, she launched herself toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back. “I’m okay.”

She pulled away and gave his arm a light punch. “You really scared me.”

“Yeah, well, next time I’ll double check my banana-walnut muffin actually has walnuts.”

“And I’ll believe you when you say your throat is closing up.”

Devi’s phone rang and he saw Paxton’s name flash on the screen. He asked her, “Do you need to get that?”

He watched her hesitate before sending it to voicemail.

----

Devi and Paxton broke up a week later. He found out from one of the retirement home residents, who he overheard telling Devi, “You’re better off, Devi. Take it from an old woman. You have the rest of your life to be with one person. Now is the time to be free. Sow your wild oats, if you will.”

“Um, I don’t really know what that last part means, but I feel you. I mean, I’m too young and hot to be tied down, right?”

“Exactly. You know, I have a grandson you might be interested in. He’s pre-med.”

“I appreciate the offer, Beatrice. And offering me your grandson after I just broke up with my boyfriend? Savage. But, I think I need to take some time by myself.”

That afternoon during bingo, Ben casually brought up the breakup after calling out B-27.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. She ran the machine and picked out the next ball. “B-13!” She put the ball down and said in a regular volume voice, “We just didn’t have that much in common.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Ben said automatically.

“Wow, okay,” Devi said with a laugh that didn’t exactly sound reassuring.

“I didn’t mean,..” he trailed off, because he kind of did. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.” He paused and picked up the next ball. “N-7!”

“Bingo!”

----

Summer was coming to a close, and so was their time at the retirement home. For some reason, Ben felt an impending sense of dread. Sure, he would still see Devi, but it would be different. Everyone else would be added back to the mix, including Paxton.

Their last big event at the retirement home was a movie night. They set up a projector in one of the recreation rooms and made it up like an old theater, complete with velvet ropes and individual little bags of popcorn. They even wore old-timey usher costumes they rented from a local costume shop.

“Does yours also smell like nachos?” Devi asked.

“Yeah. I’m trying not to think about it.”

The movie was It Happened One Night, and Devi and Ben sat in the back, watching the movie along with the residents. It was secretly one of Ben’s favorites. He and his mom had spent little time together when he was growing up, but she shared with him her love of old movies.

It was the Jericho scene, where Clark Gable’s character was setting up a sheet between him and Claudette Colbert in their motel room. He stripped down to just his undershirt, and Devi mused, “Clark Gable was super bangable.”

“Shh,” Ben said. “This is my favorite part.”

Devi looked over at him and grinned. Feeling her gaze, he glanced over and felt his breath stop when their eyes met. They were close, and in the darkness her eyes seemed to glow. He always thought she had pretty eyes. Even before, when he hated her more times than he liked her. He felt an urge to lean forward. It would be so easy. Just the slightest lean and his mouth would be against hers. But, that would just be a kiss in the back of a dark room. He wanted more.

“Eleanor told me that you wanted to choose me after Malibu.”

She blinked rapidly. “What?”

“After you scattered your dad’s ashes. She said you wanted to choose me, but they made you also consider Paxton.”

“Okay.”

“Is that true?”

Devi didn’t answer, so he kept talking.

“And she said that you started the rumor about Aneesa because you thought that we were dating and you were jealous. And, you see, I’ve had it in my mind all this time that it was always Paxton. And that I was, I don’t know, some detour on the way, but-“

“You were not a detour,” Devi said immediately. “You were…you were perfect. And I messed us up.”

“So, Eleanor was telling the truth?”

Devi nodded. “Yeah, she was.”

Ben took a deep breath. “Devi. I’m going to kiss you now.”

She nodded, all business, but he could hear the nerves in her voice when she said, “Okay. Thank you for the advanced warning.”

He leaned in and captured her mouth with his. The kiss was sweet and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. And in a way, they did. There was a noise behind them, and they pulled apart abruptly. Their supervisor stood over them and said, "Remember what I said about no sex on property?"

"Are you kidding me right now?" Devi said. "Who is having sex in these gross costumes?"

"You'd be surprised."

The supervisor walked away, and Devi looked at Ben. "You don't think she meant..."

"I think she absolutely did."

"I need to take this off immediately."

#never have I ever #ben x devi #devi vishwakumar #ben gross #never have I ever fanfiction #post-series fic

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heckyeahponyscans · 3 years

Video

youtube

Yeloli Watch Party!

Episode 4: Am I a Super Hero?

English translation

Previously, Mary lost her math notebook and her horrible teacher was about to shame her. We pick up right where we left off, with Mary, tears welling, shuffling towards the front of the class.

Last week I noticed Mary had a jellybean in her backpack and didn’t think much of it other than “oh, nice background detail.” Little did I know that the jellybean . . . was a plot point!

The jellybean glows and . . . turns into Mary’s math notebook! After a moment Shelly glances over and notices it. “Isn’t this your notebook, Mary?”

Mean Teacher says “Next time find it sooner” but accepts the notebook, and Mary returns to her seat, thrilled and relieved.

The next day the teacher hands back the corrected assignments. Only three students got perfect scores: Sean, Shelly, and . . . Mary!

Sidenote: Sean is wearing an electronic earpiece, maybe a hearing aid?

Okay, back to this earth-shattering surprise! Mary is floored by her perfect score was unsure about several of the answers on this assignment and, as we’ve previously learned, is bad at academics in general. She gets rare praise from Horrible Teacher Man, which buoys her mood even more.

But when she gets her notebook back, she’s surprised to find some of her answers have been CHANGED. Who did it? Is someone helping her?

She puzzles about it for a bit before putting her notebook in her bag--where, unbeknownst to her, it turns into a jellybean again!

After math class is P.E. (physical education), where the class has to run laps.

Mary and the kid behind her, who I feel bad about calling “the fat kid” but they haven’t said his name even once and I have to differentiate him from the other kids SOMEhow, agree to run together, because they’re both slow.

Let’s call him Peter until we get an official name.

As I’ve mentioned before, the running looks funny / odd.

But anyway, Mary and Peter stumble along the course. After getting lapped by the fastest kid (Bandaid Boy), Peter decides he’s sick of running. He’s going to hide behind a statue, wait until just before the end of class, and then complete the last lap. The teacher will never notice!

Now personally I think this is a brilliant plan, but Mary disagrees. Her mother told her winning wasn’t the important thing, the important thing is to try your best. So while Peter hides, Mary keeps running.

She gets lapped by the rest of the class, including Mean Girl, who of course takes the time to razz Mary. “Are you a turtle? Mary, you're not very pretty, you're not very smart, you're bad at sports, and your family is poor. If I were you, I would be ashamed to leave the house.”

WOW. Even Gary Oak wasn’t quite this bad.

Mary stops in her tracks to glare after Mean Girl as she pulls ahead.

“Even though I'm not very smart, I always do my best! Sooner or later, I'll be good at something. I am sure!” she thinks.

And back in the classroom, the jellybean glows . . .

And Mary’s plain, worn white shoes turn into rad pink running shoes!

The shoes let her run ridiculously fast, and soon she has not only caught up with the rest of the class, but is neck-in-neck with Bandaid Boy, the athletic kid. Bandaid Boy summons one final effort and comes in first, barely.

Soon he and the rest of the class are congratulating Mary, except Mean Girl who asks if she’s been “taking” something, like she thinks there’s a middle school doping ring going on. Mary is happy but confused and says she doesn’t know how she ran so fast. When she looks down, she is wearing her old, scuffed white shoes again.

With the school day at an end, Mary sits down and reflects on the weird events of the day. “It’s like someone was using magic to help me.”

Now here’s where the episode surprised me. I thought the evil woman in black had been using magic to spy on Mary and grant her wishes so she could swoop in and tempt her again. After all, these were wishes her magic gems could grant--making Mary smart and good at sports.

Instead the jellybean floats out of the bag and turns into Loli, who’s like, “It was MEEEE!”

Flashback to Mary saying Loli couldn’t go to school with her and Loli turning herself into a . . . gem? (okay, it wasn’t a jellybean, it was a gem) and sneaking into Mary’s backpack. She made Mary’s math notebook appear and corrected the answers, then enchanted Mary’s sneakers to make her super fast.

Loli fails to notice Mary looking increasingly betrayed and upset as she says all this and is like “Yeah! I did a great job, right?”

Upset, Mary tells her never to do that again. Loli is confused. Didn’t it make Mary happy, getting her wishes granted?

Mary replies that she was happy . . . when she thought she was succeeding through her own efforts, not doll-generated superpowers. (And if it seems kind of obvious that something was up, well, Mary is canonically kinda dense . . . Shelly was side-eyeing the hell out of the desk after the notebook magically appeared in a pile of papers Mary had already looked through ten times. And meanwhile Mary was just like “I guess I didn’t look hard enough :) :) :)”.)

Loli finally Gets It and agrees to respect Mary’s wishes. She recounts how the doll shop is full of fairies-turned-lifeless-dolls who can only regain life if a child loves them--essentially hinting that she was trying to impress Mary.

She also reveals that she’d seen Mary before she came to the shop (through magic fairy powers, I guess) and been impressed by her kindness and gentleness. Loli was the one who caused the magic petals to lead Mary to the doll shop.

With the two seeing eye to eye again, Mary says she wants to keep improving and someday be as good as Shelly. Shelly is a top student and top athlete, and Mary greatly admires her.

“But for some reason,” Mary says, “she always seems very lonely.”

We cut to Shelly, who is making her way out of the school as all her schoolmates invite each other over to play and make plans. She’s envious them; they have time to play and socialize, while her after-school routine involves more studying.

The driver is waiting outside, but as Mary walks towards it, Peter--who is hanging with Mean Girl and her lackey--calls out, inviting her to join them for ice cream.

I am FLOORED to learn that Mean Girl hangs out with Peter after school. (My theory is she either solely torments Mary or else she just likes to have other people around to pick on.)

Shelly is instantly like “OMG, ice cream sounds so good!!”, but the driver is all, “Miss Shelly, don’t forget you have piano lessons, followed by five other extracurriculars”, and she reluctantly declines the invitation.

Mean Girl, being just The Worst, says, “She thinks that because she's pretty, she can look down on us.Am I right or am I right?” and her lackey agrees, noting, “she has her own driver, and is so privileged. Meanwhile Peter is just like :( . You’re a nice kid, Peter.

Meanwhile Mary is in the car, watching her happy classmates through the window and feeling depressed. She asks the driver not to pick her up or bring her to school anymore.

But he’s like, “So you want your parents to FIRE me?”

No, Shelly says, she just wants to socialize with her peers after school.

The driver reminds her that she’s on “a very tight schedule” with her billion extracurriculars, because her parents are clearly That Kind, and says she would never get to them in time without being rushed to and fro in the car.

Shelly acquiesces, resigning herself to a lonely childhood, when suddenly . . . petals! Petals in the car, despite the closed windows!

Shelly calls to the driver to stop the car and she jumps out. She’s got to see where the petals are coming from! And she heads down a familiar, narrow alley . . .

#Yeloli Watch Party #Yeloli #bjd #Yeloli dolls #night lolita #long post

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sepublic · 3 years

Text

The Third Temple!

SASHA you’re so DUMB, dang it! WHY would you?! WHY?!

Sasha, you really ARE brute force, in spite of your seemingly more subtle, nuanced, and manipulative strategies on the surface… Superficially you think things through, you have plans and rely on Honey over Vinegar… But fundamentally, I think it’s clear that Sasha is someone who gets by through brute force, in the sense that she blindly throws her power around, instead of genuinely conceding to diplomacy and whatnot. And, this plays into her Persistence, and never giving up, as we see against those two bullies in the flashback…

Also, lemme just say- The dehydrated bit for the Amphibians was hilarious and also a clever way to isolate the conflict to just the humans, and THEN just Anne and Sasha- Because alas, Marcy’s weak nerd arms…!

Seriously though, seeing how Grime lowkey lays the pressure, I like how it displays that they’re both… Toxic and enabling to one another, even if supportive, and it’s not like just ONE is in charge or whatever. Sasha having to choose between Anne and Marcy, and Grime, is interesting; To her, Grime is someone who stuck with her through thick and thin, at her lowest point… He’s someone who’s not afraid of her power, but even actively encourages her, supports Sasha’s ruthlessness! In some ways, it seems he’s more supportive and understands Sasha better than her old friends…

And, I have to think that Sasha wasn’t totally lying back there. That a part of her DID in fact feel remorse, or at least understand that she messed up… But it also means that she’s burnt that bridge permanently on her own end, or she’s trying to- Because she thinks that it’s too late, she’s just going to mess things up AGAIN anyway, because Anne and Marcy can’t handle the kind of person she is. So, Sasha is sticking with Grime… But again, Sasha has to wonder if Anne and Marcy have a point, and that’s something Grime doesn’t realize…. But then again, why WOULD he bring up Sasha’s flaws, in the midst of his own rebellion, which IS important to him!

I think Sasha and Grime being a lot alike could make her realize what kind of impact she has on others, by realizing how she feels about Grime; And how Grime might realize the same vice-versa. In Grime’s case, he very much NEEDS to be ruthless in order to survive, in order to carry out his Toad Rebellion… And, he’s not completely wrong for it, either!

For all we know, Sasha apologizing, and manipulating Anne and Marcy, isn’t totally mutually exclusive; Maybe she DID take Percy and Braddock a little bit to heart, in the sense that… She does care, but she also realizes that Andrias is pretty sus, and that they NEED to do something about him. To Sasha, she really is looking out for them by getting rid of Andrias… But how much of her is motivated by genuine suspicion of him, or just her own ulterior motives of getting back power and control?

This could lead to a confrontation where Sasha NEEDS to be listened and heard out, because a part of her IS right about Andrias… But because of her own lies and treachery, Anne rightfully doesn’t trust her- And it’s complicated because in some ways, Sasha IS operating more from being selfish than doing the right thing, even if it’s ultimately siding with Sasha that is the right choice here. This could spur on Anne to side with Marcy and Andrias, perhaps help the Newt King in whatever he has planned… Or, it could lead to Anne realizing the Newts aren’t trustworthy as well, breaking those bridges!

With what we see in the intro with Marcy, for all we know we’re being expected to think of Sasha as the betrayal, but it’s MARCY who screws things over! She did mention about how she wanted to bring the Calamity Box to Andrias first, so I imagine this has something to do with her deal… Perhaps Andrias will use the power in the Box, safely contained instead of in the girls, to help bring his master to power? Now I’m imagining a Breath of the Wild scenario, where ‘The Night’ rises to power like Calamity Ganon, engulfing Newtopia- This is of course more tragic because we got to KNOW Newtopia and its people…

But even worse- Its power spreads out and it uses the Calamity Box power to revive the ancient machines of Amphibia, possibly even corrupting Frobo in particular- Just like Ganon with the Guardians! If Season 3 is Toad-themed, this could lead to Sasha and her rebellion teaming up with Anne and the others to regroup and defeat the Night… And as for Marcy, perhaps she’ll play the role of Princess Zelda; She’ll realize her mistakes, and pull some sort of sacrifice to keep the Night contained temporarily… Or even worse, Andrias will manipulate her into staying with them!

Perhaps Marcy knows the truth about the gems draining power, that they’re needed to travel home; So Andrias proposed to have the power safely drained by the temples, and handed over to him, so that the girls could stay in Amphibia together, forever, never losing that fantasy of theirs… Who knows?

I will say that it’s telling that Marcy, of course with the excuse of no Toad Tower incident, is immediately quick to fall into line with Sasha, and how this could play into her character being more generally gullible, possibly willfully so, because her default is to follow whoever’s in charge blindly… Ironic, then; Marcy is smart but not wise, Sasha is powerful but too weak to do the right thing and show vulnerability, and Anne is brave, but often held back by insecurities and doubt! These girls are their own antithesis!

And Sasha… She needs to have the self-belief in herself, the way Anne and Marcy do- To actually do the right thing, to grow as a person. To not resign herself to who she is now, and even worse, because she believes in her own ability to improve and be better than that… Sasha needs to not let down Anne and Marcy’s trust, to make good on why it was given in the first place! Pay back their good faith in her, be the hero and leader they believe her to be!

…Anyhow, I like Frobo’s brief involvement here- I’m glad to see he got to do more, and the gags with the dehydration, how I THOUGHT Grime’s arms seemed a bit skinnier than usual, were great! I like to see more of Frobo becoming more integrated into the family and cast, and I’d like to see how he, Sasha, and Grime would interact; Him being a powerful automaton might create some interest, perhaps in weaponizing and reactivating the Ruins of Despair… And of course, it’d complicate things for them to pull a full betrayal, considering Frobo’s power- Perhaps he’ll help against people like Yunnan, maybe even do a heroic sacrifice to help the others escape Newtopia, only to be destroyed or corrupted?

I love how painfully direct the Third Temple was, how it’s really just about brute, raw strength- But making good on that strength to keep going, too! The gravity bit and Sasha removing her armor was classic anime characters with absurd weights, and I suspect that giant Toad golem is actually none other than the previous Toad we saw with Andrias… And, possibly Barrel himself! The golem conceding defeat with good sportsmanship probably gives us a good idea of what Barrel was like- Probably a much more boisterous, heart-on-your-sleeve individual…. Arguably way less toxic and manipulative than Sasha, perhaps the most traditional hero of the trio!

Funny, then, that the trio first had the Wit be toxic… And now Strength… AND Wit, perhaps? We’ll see… Either way, I now suspect that Barrel talks the same way as the messages in the Third Temple!

We’re in the final stretch, you guys… Nothing but pure plot and development, Sasha and Grime and the others, attempted reconciliation. If we saw Anne and the family try to say goodbye at Newtopia, this is going to take on a WHOLE new level, because Anne is going to think she’s really about to leave, for REAL this time; And this means teary farewells with all of Wartwood, and likely a montage and episode even MORE painful than our mid-point for this show! My heart isn’t ready… In addition to probably cute antics among the human girls, underscored by the darkness of what we KNOW is to come, no less!

Until next time, F-Anne’s… We’re about to enter the calm, BEFORE the Storm!

#amphibia #amphibia sasha #sasha waybright #amphibia grime #captain grime #amphibia anne #anne boonchuy #amphibia marcy #marcy wu #amphibia andrias #king andrias #speculation #analysis #meta

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Come play with me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, home invasion, allusion to stalking and non-con.

Words: 1987.

Summary: Having to deal with Bucky Barnes, a talented head engineer who you have to convince cooperating with your boss, you suddenly discover his psychopathic tendencies. Worse, he has taken an eerie interest in you.

_______________________

“Listen, dear, I know what he asks for seems like something very inappropriate, but, in fact, the guy just likes you and-”

“No, Mr. Simons, he doesn’t just like me.” You snapped, bringing the cellphone closer your face. “This madman asked me to be at his disposal any time he wants. Please, don’t try to convince me it’s okay because this is madness.”

“I know, I know, he sounds like a psycho, but he’s not. Mr. Barnes is just... difficult. He needs to work on his communicational skills, he admitted it himself during our meeting today.” Your boss - or rather your ex-boss - was almost pleading you to listen to him, but you had enough of this nonsense. Nothing could change your mind after yesterday’s humiliating encounter with James Buchanan Barnes, the head engineer of HYDRA Corp.

“Sir, I have already submitted the resignation form. I perfectly understand the position you are in, but I’m not going to become a toy of this psychopatic man-child.” You answered firmly, looking at your lovely blue clock on the wall and knowing it was too late for any work calls. “Goodbye, Mr. Simons. Have a nice evening.”

Before he tried saying anything else to make you change your decision, you had turned your phone off and put it on your desk, sighing. You could never imagined one day you would face a situation like that.

Yes, when your boss got a promotion, you were truly happy for him. It also meant that you, his secretary, would now get a different type of tasks since you worked more like his personal assistant rather than someone who simply answered the phone calls and built his schedule. A raise was also quite nice. What you didn’t expect was having issues with Bucky, the genius the whole corporation knew about. He was that very same man HYDRA owed its success to as his innovative approach made the company widely known in the whole world for its - his - active protection systems. Barnes was now working on the brand new weapon system control, but he had never submitted sufficient reports, and, apparently, the previous executive left exactly because of Bucky and his wild temperament.

Despite the fact that he was a legendary figure, you had never met him or dealt with him directly. And since now Barnes became your boss’ pain, he became yours, too.

First, it was impossible to set a meeting with him directly. Mr. Simons wanted to take care of this issue himself and emailed Bucky multiple times, but always got the same dry answer that Barnes is too busy. Of course, he never answered any calls - until it was you calling him. Oddly, he was eager to talk to you. It took you just two calls to organize an online meeting for your boss, and, finally, yesterday you got to see the mysterious genius with your own eyes.

He was nothing like you expected. He wasn’t some skinny geek wearing glasses on his long nose, but a beefy man, his shoulders twice wider than your boss’. Barnes had dirty disheveled hair and a three-days beard, but, aside from that, he looked more like a star athlete rather than a nerdy engineer. He dressed in a pretty weird fashion, wearing tight t-shirts, leather pants, chains and heavy studded boots, but criticizing his style wasn’t a part of your job. You needed the reports he refused to submit and get him to attend the meetings.

Of course, he blamed everything on too many bureaucratic procedures and lack of time for anything but his new project. Even while speaking to the two of you he was pacing back and force in his laboratory, fetching this and that, fiddling with something that looked like a futuristic gun from one of Scott Ridley’s movies, his table full of screws and nails, markers, dirty papers, and metal parts of something you couldn’t recognize. Now you could see the true technological genius everyone was talking about.

However, you weren’t satisfied with the lack of information he was willing to give about his project. Barnes had a ridiculous amount of privileges, able to order whatever supplies he needed without anyone’s approval and working in a total secrecy, but HYDRA’s board of directors was growing tired of his reticence and temper tantrums Barnes was throwing every time someone tried to uncover his secrets. The career of your boss was at stake, and you needed Bucky to cooperate. You doubted the company would be willing to get rid of its most valuable employee, but the board of directors could easily limit his access to many of his beloved projects and make his life much more difficult.

Discussing the endless possibilities of what could happen if Barnes still refused to cooperate, you realized he wasn’t worried even the slightest bit. But he agreed to submit the reports if 1) he would get the team of engineers he picked by himself to help him with his project, regardless of whether they are involved with other things 2) he would get you “at his disposal any time he wanted”. Of course, at first you thought it was some kind of weird joke. Who in a right state of mind would ask for anything like this? You tried to laugh it off along with your boss, who was as shocked as you.

Then you figured out Barnes was dead serious. He wanted you.

Of course, you weren’t having it. Maybe your boss career was at stake, but it was his business, not yours. If the only thing he could offer you was being Barnes’ toy for the sake of the corporation, you would prefer to leave your place and find a position somewhere else.

How could he even suggest submitting to that psycho? Who did he think you were? A doll? A disposable Barbie or something? Even thinking of that was making you furious.

Sighing, you dropped your phone on the table and went to the kitchen to have a glass of wine. Despite the fact that you had already submitted the resignation form, you still needed to keep working before Mr. Simons would find a new secretary. It meant you would hear him pleading you to stay every day, and it wasn’t going to be nice. This damn Barnes made your life insufferable with just a couple of sentences.

Of course, you weren’t going to keep calling Bucky or trying to talk to some sense into him. Fuck that. Barnes was totally mad, and you weren’t having more of his bullshit.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and you stilled, growing in frustration. What the hell? You had to carefully put an empty glass back on the counter and move to your room again to take the phone. Glancing out of the window, you saw that it was just your apartment while others had light in them. Oh, perfect.

“Why do I pay for all this new technology that never works?” You growled in frustration, rooting around to find your phone.

“That’s a good question. To be honest, I wouldn’t.”

You froze. Somebody was in your room. Turning around quickly, you had finally found your phone and touched the screen - the subtle blue glowing lit Barnes’ gloomy face, and for a few seconds he narrowed his eyes as your phone blinded him.

Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered in terror, stepping away from him and visibly shaking. God, how did he get through the security system? You had just installed a pretty expensive one, made by...

By HYDRA Corp.

“You see, your security system has so many drawbacks I hacked it even without a proper preparation. You have to consider switching to something more solid.” He said calmly as he made a step towards you. In the darkness of the room he looked even more intimidating with his long dark hair hanging on his eyes, his huge figure looming over you as you ended up being pressed to the wall. “You know, since you were so enthusiastic in the beginning, I expected you to act... more professional.”

You didn’t know what to say. You were trapped between the wall and Barnes’ body as you stared into his face, terrified to the core. What was he doing here? Did he break into your home just because you refused him? Was he damn insane?

Oh yes. Yes, Barnes was.

“You know, we can have so much fun together if you just leave your pathetic boss and come play with me.” He tilted his head to the side, letting his disheveled hair fall on his broad shoulder and taking away the phone from your hand. “You’re a smart girl, aren’t you? I know how much you’re doing while Simons pretends it’s all him. Aren’t you tired of it?”

Well, it was true. Your boss had finally offered you a promotion after you would take care of Barnes issue, so you didn’t complain, waiting for your chance. It was all over now.

“And what do you suggest?” You asked, knowing you needed to somehow get away from this psycho and run to the door.

“Take care of me instead of him.”

You clenched your teeth as Barnes got closer, almost touching the tip of your nose with his, his icy blue eyes fixated on you. You felt the strong smell of cigarettes coming from him and winced from this unwanted intimacy. Barnes was too close to let you get away.

“What do you mean? I don’t think you need a secretary.” You played innocent, not looking him into eyes and staring at something on your right. Now your eyes almost adjusted to the darkness surrounding you.

“I can get you a better position, baby. A project manager, huh? You will ensure me and my team do things right.” His hot breath was burning your skin as Bucky nuzzled against your cheek, making you squirm. “You’ll be the one overseeing the development of a new system, and I get to have you close all the time. Besides, your paycheck gonna be way bigger. Isn’t it nice?”

“I don’t think I have sufficient skills for this job.” You mumbled meekly, squeezing your eyes shut when he put his hand on your shoulder gently. “The Corporation won’t allow me to take this position.”

There was a smug grin on his face. “Oh dear, you’re perfect for the job, I know it. And don’t you worry about the Board of Directors, I can be quite... persuasive.” As he smiled at you, you were ready to cry in front of him, so frightened and almost hysterical.

“What do you want from me, Barnes?” You pleaded in distress, tired and scared of the game he was playing with you.

He took your arm in his and made you move to the bed, forcing you to sit down while he hovered over you, brushing his long hair out of his face and tucking one of his locks behind the ear. Then Barnes cupped your chin with his hand, making you look directly at him.

“Come play with me, baby.” He cooed gently at you, wiping away a tear running down your cheek. “I want you close. Come to me. Talk to me. Have fun with me. I’m not asking much, am I?”

“We’ve only met yesterday. Why-”

You heard him chuckling and got silent immediately. You didn’t like that creepy smile on his face. Why did he look like you were wrong? You knew for sure you didn’t meet him before - who could possibly forget someone like Bucky Barnes - but his smile was telling you that he knew you from somewhere before your yesterday’s encounter. Where else could he meet you? You had no idea.

“It’s alright, dear. You’ll have enough time to know me better.” Barnes whispered, rubbing your chin with his thumb and closing the distance between the two of you. “We’re gonna have lots of fun together.”

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @iheartsebastianstan @soleil-dor @iheartsebastianstan

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #winter soldier #yandere

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geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek · 4 years

Note

hmmm how about 24 and/or 41? :3c

24. you’re my ex but i think i still have feelings for you / 41. overhearing they have feelings for you

post-s1, geraskier, past yenralt, implied yenskier if u squint, break up & make up situation, angst with a hopeful ending

cliche prompts~!

—

there’s a tight feeling in his chest, a pressing weight on him as a rush of feeling overcomes him when he sees jaskier standing at the entrance of kaer morhen.

their eyes meet for the first time since the mountain, and geralt thinks they’re even bluer than he remembers. perhaps it’s the light of the afternoon sun dappling in beams over the keep, or just that old adage of absence making the heart grow fonder, but his breath is stolen as he looks at his bard once again.

not your bard, he reminds himself harshly, dropping his gaze but unable to look away for long, not after so much time apart. not anymore.

he watches those blue eyes go dim with a fresh wave of pain and heartache as they land on him, and then go wide when he sees geralt’s companion.

“jaskier!”

ciri rushes forward from his side, and jaskier drops to his knees, arms open to catch her in a hug. he presses his face in her hair the same way geralt had back in the forest where they found each other, holding something so indescribably precious in his arms.

the aching of his own heart intensifies.

“oh, sweet girl,” jaskier is murmuring to her, holding her tight while she buries her face in his neck. “i’m so glad you found him. it’s alright, it’s alright. you’re safe now.”

he’d forgotten jaskier spent many winters after that disastrous engagement banquet back in cintra’s court, watching their little lion cub grow up. one of us should be there for her, he’d told geralt once, a look in his blue eyes geralt hadn’t been able to place.

he thinks now it might have been something like understanding, something like resignation. always picking up the slack abandoned by geralt in matters of destiny.

he’s always done more than geralt deserves of him.

those blue eyes that always make him feel simultaneously like he’s drowning and finding air after being underwater for too long find his again as jaskier stands up, hands still on ciri’s shoulders, and then jaskier turns away without a word and leads her into the keep.

the clenching in his chest cinches tighter and geralt feels another piece of his heart crack and splinter, chipped away by his own doing.

yen’s gaze, from where she stands beside him, burns into the side of his head. “you’re a real piece of work, geralt of rivia.”

with that, she moves away and heads into kaer morhen, and he watches yet again as the two halves of his heart leave him behind, one slightly mended by necessity, the other still raw and bleeding.

he avoids jaskier for the first several weeks as winter sets in in earnest. it’s—more difficult than he expects. kaer morhen is large, but not large enough to keep geralt from being in the same space as jaskier, and he finds himself leaving rooms right after entering them when he sees his—not his—bard sitting at a table or curled in a chair, lute in hand, his voice warm and soft and gods, he’s missed it. missed jaskier.

but he messed it up on that mountain. he fucked up the one good thing life had seen fit to bless him with—how could he have ever called jaskier a curse—and he’s not sure it’s something he can fix.

so he avoids jaskier to avoid having to face the consequences of his mistakes. of this mistake in particular.

it doesn’t last.

he’s been trying to ignore the burn of jealousy in his veins when he catches yen with jaskier, both of them with their heads together and smiling and laughing together like old friends. yen had said she and jaskier had worked through their differences and come to an understanding sometime in the time between the mountain and now, but she’d never offered the details of their relationship.

the urge to put himself between them and pull jaskier away, to crowd him against a wall and hide him from her gaze and focus all of that blue-eyed attention on himself is strong, and it takes a great amount of his carefully learned and honed control to keep it in check. he hates the envy spreading in him like toxins in his blood.

he finds himself lingering outside the door to the room jaskier was given, hand poised in the air as if to knock or push his way in, wanting to, wanting to be let back in, but never going through with it. he listens instead, from the hallway, to jaskier singing softly or muttering nonsense to himself as he goes about his nightly routines. it’s familiar, calming, something he did on the road with geralt, and geralt feels something in him settle knowing jaskier hasn’t changed much at all.

occasionally, he’ll be talking to someone—ciri, usually, or yen, or eskel or lambert—and geralt burns with the desire to be the one he talks to, to be given the honor of keeping him company, even if he’s proven he’s not worthy of jaskier time and time again. he wants jaskier back, but he’s not sure jaskier wants him anymore.

it’s a night like this, geralt lingering beyond the door and listening in, that something in this self-imposed stalemate between them finally shifts.

jaskier is with yen tonight, and geralt thinks, later, wryly, that it was probably some kind of omen from destiny. their voices are low murmurs, occasionally interspersed with laughter, but it turns quiet and somber at some point over something he didn’t catch. at first.

“i used to think i knew him,” jaskier says, confesses it like a dark secret. he sounds so terribly sad it makes geralt want to run himself onto his own sword, because it’s his fault. “that i knew, no matter what words he did or didn’t say, that i knew what he was trying to say, what he was actually saying. now...now, i’m not sure i ever did.”

you did, geralt thinks, jaw clenching. you knew me better than anyone. no one else had ever bothered to know me like you did.

“for someone so smart,” yen muses, “he’s very stupid.”

it makes jaskier laugh. “he is. it’s part of his charm.”

“if you think stupidity is charming.”

“well obviously i did.”

did. but not anymore.

“obviously.”

it’s quiet between them for a moment, and geralt strains to hear anything from beyond the thick door separating him from the one who had become his everything without him even realizing it until it was too late.

“sometimes i wonder if there’s something wrong with me,” jaskier murmurs, and geralt’s heart twists. no, there’s not. you’re perfect. you were always too good for me. “something not quite right inside me. i mean,” he laughs again, but it sounds pained this time, worn out and tired, “why else, even after everything, would i still love him this deeply?”

geralt’s breath leaves him in a rush, like he’s been punch, or tossed into a wall by a beast.

“love makes fools of us all,” yen says. “it’s a curse—but also a blessing. if you’re into it. personally, i prefer a good bondage kink, but to each his own. martyrdom does it for some people, i hear.”

geralt pictures the way jaskier might try to hide a smile in her hair at the attempt at a joke. he always tried to hide his smiles when he didn’t want to admit geralt had said something funny, dry as it was.

he wants that back, wants that easy friendship, that easy love jaskier gave to him so freely.

“i want him back,” jaskier says then, as if he can hear geralt’s thoughts from the hall. “he was never mine, but i want him back anyway.”

i was always yours, geralt thinks. i just hadn’t realized how completely you had me until i forced you to let go.

he can’t listen to any more—he’s scraped raw at the confession, at the depth of jaskier’s love for him even after how he’d treated him, at his own realization. as quietly as he can, he walks away from jaskier’s room, though not without feeling a pull back to the door, back to his bard.

not your bard, he tells himself again. then amends, but maybe he would be again, if given the chance.

geralt returns to his own room, checking in on ciri as he goes, feeling some of the tension in his chest ease knowing his child surprise is sleeping safely close by. his resolve is set:

he’s got an apology to give that’s long past due.

#anxiousbard #answered #the witcher #geraskier #fics.#thank u for the prompts!#i really enjoyed stretching my prompt fill skills lol

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years

Text

BURN THE WITCH! Part 6

Well...you all did ask...

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Marinette chanted as she ran.

Not that anyone was chasing her or there was even any reason to run with Fu completely knocked out. Honestly, she may have just been running from her own guilt more than anything by this point.

She didn’t stop running until she was at least a good several blocks away. Her legs were burning and she was gasping for breath when she finally felt she had made it far enough to rest. With her mind running a mile a minute, she somehow managed to find an alleyway between two mostly empty storefronts to use as a hiding space to try and regroup.

“I’m so sorry…” She had attacked Master Fu. She had hit her mentor over the head. SHE HIT AN ELDERLY MAN WITH A FRYING PAN!

“You should be sorry!” Tikki admonished her from her hiding place in Marinette’s bag. “Now there won’t be anyone to sell us popcorn!”

“NotnowTikki!”

Okay. Okay. Recap.

She had the Dragon Miraculous—even if she’d had to knock out Master Fu to get it, which was a horrible thing to do even if it did at least prevent him from stopping her or trying anything to help the akuma because the other Miraculous users were mostly if not all likely under the akuma’s influence by now and fighting them to try and save Lila was NOT something she wanted to do today on top of everything else…

The akuma has had time to get more followers and seems to have amassed a greater army by this point. The lynch mob that those followers have become were apparently in the process of trying to 1) hunt down Lila and 2) set up a pyre for the intended burning. While the followers have been focused on those two things, the akuma herself has been mobile and roaming around Paris, seemingly for the purpose of finding Lila while also enthralling more followers to aid her cause.

Tikki was one of those under the akuma’s influence as well. So far she had been trying to convince Marinette to not try and save Lila, which was…frustratingly tempting but not overall harmful. What WAS of concern was the question of what effect Tikki’s condition would have on Ladybug once transformed. Would Ladybug immediately be under the akuma’s thrall as well? Or would Tikki’s state influence the Lucky Charm? The former seemed unlikely, but she couldn’t rule out the latter.

There has as of yet been no sign of Chat Noir. She had no way of knowing where he was or if the akuma had already gotten to him. Her hope was that he, like Marinette, was also unaffected by the akuma’s words since he also knew what Lila was capable of. Or he should at least, given they were both aware of Lila’s multiple akumatizations and her helping Hawk Moth. He may not go to her school or know Lila personally, but he should know that much, right?

And then there was Lila herself. Marinette had no idea where she had escaped to after her failed attempt to sacrifice Marinette to the angry mob, but she at least knew that the mob hadn’t found her yet. She wanted to take some relief at that, but unfortunately knew she couldn’t. Given Lila’s previous antics and that the fact she was being hunted did nothing to even so much as slow her down from attempting other self-serving things, Marinette was honestly more worried about what all Lila could have gotten up to. While the smart thing to do would be to hide somewhere and wait, Marinette wouldn’t put it past the liar to take advantage of whatever opportunity this mess could give her, even at the risk of her own safety.

Part of her felt guilty for that being her bigger concern. The rest of her, however, knew better. She knew full well what Lila was like, after all. She had seen her at her worst first-hand.

Maybe that was why she hadn’t fallen under the akuma’s sway? Even if she didn’t know every horrible the things Lila had done, she still knew Lila was capable of anything. So nothing the akuma announced Lila has done actually surprised her.

It may only be a matter of time, though. Even Ladybug had her limits.

“Okay. Okay.” Marinette slapped her cheeks to focus. “Just…find the akuma, purify it, and this will all be over.”

Well, not ALL over. There would still be the matter of Lila’s theft and reveal of her lies. That money needed to be recovered. Rose still needed help. There were legal issues to take into account. But there were still plenty of ways of dealing with those things. Ways which didn’t involve fire.

Marinette just needed to deal with the akuma so she could actually have some peace to address those problems. Or at the very least, so the world would stop trying to tempt her to allowing murder to take place.

Resolute and with a plan, Marinette walked out of the alleyway.

And right into one of the main sources of her troubles.

“Lila?!”

Speak of the devil…

“What happened to you?” Marinette asked, immediately concerned. Lila’s hair was damp and frizzing. It looked like she had just taken a shower—though the smell certainly said differently. Marinette had to fight the instinct to draw away from the odor. “Are you okay? And…wait…are those my clothes?” Marinette cut off with narrowed eyes at the girl as she recognized what she was wearing as coming from her own wardrobe.

“There was an unfortunate misunderstanding.” Lila said, waving it off.

Yeah, not buying it.

“Being?”

“Nothing you need to know about. I made it out, however, and your parents were happy to help me.” Lila said before looked down at her new attire, pulling at a sleeve distastefully. “I can’t say much about their taste though…”

“So you were at my house.” Which was no small cause of annoyance given that Marinette had been trying to take her there earlier, but knowing Lila had been in her home without her knowledge…

Marinette sighed, resigned. “What did you do?”

Lila gasped, looking affronted. “Why would you assume I did anything?”

Because Lila’s a lying snake she couldn’t trust with a stale bagel, much less her home.

She merely gave Lila a dry look. “Because if you had been at the bakery, there must be a reason why you’re out in the streets now.”

While she loved her parents dearly, they weren’t always the most dependable. Sabrina had gotten into her room once before by slipping past them when they weren’t paying attention to just WHOM was going up to her room. Then there was the situation with Chloe’s bracelet and her father doing more to admonish her for defending herself than helping her when she was accused. Or the way her parents didn’t really listen to her when Lila had gotten her expelled.

Knowing them, they would try and help Lila regardless of her previous false accusations. Even if it meant allowing Lila access to things she shouldn’t be allowed access to. Like Marinette’s clothes. Or her room.

…please say they didn’t let her into her room.

“I have better options for places to hide than a sad little one-note bakery.”

Marinette was not impressed. “Then why did you end up at the bakery instead of wherever that was?”

Lila laughed. “Well, they did offer. And who am I to turn down a free offer, even if it’s from your parents?” She shook her head. “You would think they would have known better. But they are rather trusting, aren’t they? They trusted me easily enough. First with your ‘crimes’ and now again.”

She clenched her fists. “Because you lied!”

“So what if I did? It says something when they were willing to believe me over you.” Lila shrugged, uncaringly. “But does it say more about me? Or you?”

Lila was clearly baiting her. But if nothing else, this day had taught Marinette to deny temptation.

“Are you REALLY trying to start a fight right now? In case it’s slipped your mind, Lila, there are a lot of very angry people trying to hunt you down. And every bad thing you do is only giving them more ammunition to want to hunt you!”

Lila hesitated at that, looking uncertain for all of a moment before settling back into cool confidence. “Those idiots would believe anything. I could just as easily tell them that everything from before was the result of another akuma. Or that my ‘illness’ was acting up. They would believe it that. After all, they believed me about all my other injuries.”

Marinette shook her head.

“You can’t keep it up forever, Lila. Your lies rely on emotional appeal to make people feel sorry for you or obligated to help you. But people will get tired of it and then what? You just move on to the next school?”

“The next school. The next community. The next city. The next country. It’s worked for me so far.”

“Because you’ve never been held accountable so far. But the mess you make isn’t going to go away this time.”

“It doesn’t matter. Ladybug will save me, and then she'll save the day, just like she always does. Because she just has to be ‘the hero’.” Lila rolled her eyes. “She's too much of a goodie two shoes to fall for mudslinging. Then all I have to do is point out to everyone that Ladybug herself believed in me when no one else did and they’ll fall back in line. I will be queen again. Or if I can’t continue there, I can simply transfer out and start over somewhere else where I can. So it really doesn't matter what happens."

Marinette didn’t even hide the glare at this point. “And who is going to help you survive that long? Who do you have in your back pocket who will be willing to face down an akuma leading an angry mob out for your head?”

She stepped forward and Lila took a tentative step back.

“I’m certainly not seeing anyone else here with you right now. I mean, sure, I was willing to help you, and then you literally tried to sacrifice me to the akuma. My parents would gladly have kept you safe at the bakery unless you did something. Who do you even have that you haven’t turned against you? I would love to know.”

“Hey, I had your friends in my corner.” Lila shot back.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Lila: right now, I am the only person anywhere close to your corner. In fact, I’m probably the only person in all of Paris who wants you to NOT die a horrible fiery death despite knowing full well just how horrible of a person you are.”

“And of course you’re so concerned about me.” Lila scoffed.

“Against my better judgement.” Marinette muttered.

“Oh please.” She replied with a roll of her eyes. “We both know you would happily leave me to perish if you had the chance.”

Marinette glared. “That’s the sort of thing you would do, Lila. But I’m not like you.”

She was angry. And she would be lying if there wasn’t a good part of her that wanted to simply give up

But Lila only sneered. “Of course not, you’re like Ladybug. Self righteous, holier-than-thou, so-called heroes who have to stick your noses into other people’s business even when it doesn’t affect you.”

“You were lying to people!” Marinette exclaimed hotly. It was perhaps a bit too loudly, but she was having increasing difficulty caring at this point.

“And what did that matter for either of you?”

Marinette bristled. But Lila ignored her, continuing to speak and defend herself.

“I only told people what they wanted to hear. Alya wanted news for her blog. The others wanted stories. Even Adrien wanted a connection to a superhero. So what did it matter if I gave it to them whether it was real or not? It didn’t warrant what Ladybug did. And anything I’ve done since didn’t have to happen if not for her. Honestly, this is really all her fault.”

“Ladybug’s fault?!” Marinette gaped.

She…she couldn’t be serious?

But Lila nodded, resolutely.

Marinette just stared. Did…did she really believe her own lies that much?

The fact that she was even now trying to justify it only made her more angry. Her actions as Ladybug weren’t the best, and were far from heroic. She admitted to being wrong and apologized at that time and even afterwards to no effect. But here and now, especially with Lila’s continued and even worsening antics, she wanted to defend her masked self. And this may be the only time she would get to do so.

“It’s not Ladybug’s fault you lied about being her best friend and another superhero to Adrien.”

Lila paused before frowning at Marinette, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And how do you know about that?”

Normally, Marinette would have stumbled and tried to stutter out some weak excuse. But Marinette was tired, angry, and beyond caring. For once, she didn’t even miss a beat.

“Because it’s not like you were confronted by a superhero in a public park where anyone could happen to be nearby and witness it or anything.” She replied dryly.

Lila’s eyes widened. “So that’s how you knew I was lying?”

Marinette didn’t answer. Fortunately, she didn’t need to.

“I was just trying to impress Adrien. But he only had eyes for a superhero. Was it so wrong to want to get his attention the only way I could?” Lila said by way of explanation, sounding sad and hurt in a way Marinette could almost believe if it weren’t for the fact that the person it was coming from was Lila. And sure enough, Lila turned to Marinette, appearing for all intents and purposes as if they were somehow bonded through a shared suffering over a boy they both liked. “You know what it’s like, don’t you? The way he’s only watching her? Isn’t it unfair that for all the good you do for him, he doesn’t see you? That he worships a stranger in a mask over the real life hero who is beside him every day?”

Her words stung a bit, yes. Mostly because she knew they weren’t true. Adrien was in love with Kagami, not Ladybug. So whether or not Marinette was wearing a mask didn’t matter.

Thus she ignored Lila’s attempts to draw her in and focused on the glaring problem in her story.

“And what was she supposed to do if Adrien or Alya or anyone came up to her and asked her about you?”

And like that, Lila’s caring facade broke as her face twisted into an ugly snarl.

“She was supposed to never find out and just keep her mouth shut. But she went and blabbed. She made me look like a liar in front of Adrien.”

The fact that it was only because she WAS a liar seemed to not matter to her, much to Marinette’s disbelief.

“I had Adrien Agreste hanging off my every word and then she came along and ruined it!” Lila was seething at the memory.

Hearing all of this only made things worse. Even now, Lila saw nothing wrong with anything she did, only with how others responded to her. And to hear her blast Ladybug in such a way made Marinette’s ire rise.

“He would have figured it out.” Marinette pointed out. Adrien was smart. Trusting and kind, but not easily fooled. “You claimed to be a superhero but what was going to happen when you couldn’t transform or use your superpowers to back it.”

“I could just say I can’t transform without cause and compromise my identity—“

“Then why even tell him you were a hero in the first place?” Marinette countered, more annoyed. “The entire plan was stupid! You revealed yourself to a stranger for no real reason! You two didn’t know each other! You had no connection with him to establish trust or any reason TO tell him such vital information!”

Lila glared, looking downright petulant. “It wouldn’t have mattered if he believed me.”

Of all the…

“Even if he DID believe you at first,” Marinette continued. “It only would have made him more upset with you when the truth came out. And it would have come out soon enough. He was bound to notice that no Fox-themed hero was joining Ladybug in fights.”

“I would have been in reserve.” Lila reasoned.

“Given how bad some akumas have gotten, no amount of excuses could justify NOT using extra help. And what about when the other heroes started appearing? What, were you going to claim to be Rena Rouge?”

That made Lila grimace. “There weren’t supposed to BE any other heroes.”

Marinette threw up her hands. “You read the book! You saw the pictures! That’s how you even knew about Volpina in the first place!”

Lila blinked in surprise. “Wait, how do you know about that?”

Marinette glared angrily. “Who do you think returned that book to Adrien’s father after you threw it in the trash?”

“Oh right. You were spying on us.” Lila smirked.

“You’re lucky I was there at all!” Marinette bit out through gritted teeth. “That book belonged to Adrien’s FATHER! He was FURIOUS when it was lost! Enough that he was going to pull Adrien out of school for losing it!”

Which she was still upset over. Especially since she had taken the blame for it instead of admitting Lila did it.

“Even if your plan HAD worked, you wouldn’t have had a chance at Adrien anyway because he wouldn’t be in school anymore! He’s only in school now because I took the hit and returned it.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you only had the most ‘noble’ of intentions.” The other girl stated with a roll of your eyes. “And the fact that you would be losing any chance at Adrien had NOTHING to do with it. Don’t act like you’re any different.”

“I did it so HE would be happy.” Marinette insisted. “Because Adrien loves coming to school and I didn’t want him to lose that. Don’t even try to claim we’re the same when you’re the only reason he was put in that position in the first place!”

She was getting more heated and was finding it harder to care. But it was like everything Lila had done and every reason Marinette disliked her was rushing back into her head.

“The one thing I’ve noticed is that not only do you lie, but you don’t think your lies through. What was even the point of claiming all the things you did?” She questioned, looking at Lila in the eyes. Legitimately trying to understand. “You don’t just claim minor things to get by. You tell outrageous lies that are difficult to believe in the first place and are easy to disprove. And for what? To get people to hold things for you and buy you lunch or ice cream. Then what? It’s just…”

Pointless. That was the problem. Lila’s lies were completely pointless in the end. They offered some short term benefit but failed to hold up over time—whether in believability or interest. While it was true that Marinette’s concern was for her classmates who had no benefit from Lila’s lies, the thing was that Lila had nothing to gain from them either.

It was like she was lying for the sake of lying.

“Do you even notice the impact you’re having on others? Or care? What are you even getting out of it?”

What could possibly make it all worth it?

There was a period of silence as the two stared at each other.

Then Lila…

Lila just laughed.

“What don’t I get out of it? Their focus. Their adoration. I am their Queen in a way Chloe Bourgeois wishes she was. The center of attention. The one they adore. Wasn’t that why you really got upset with me that first day back?”

“What?”

“Oh come on, even you must get it or you wouldn’t try so hard to play up the ‘good girl’ angle to make people like you.”

Marinette drew back, confused.

“Everybody plays each other. That’s all anybody ever does. We play parts.”

She didn’t believe that. In a way she could try and understand Lila’s logic considering her secret identity. But even with her mask of Ladybug and her role as a hero, it wasn’t just a ‘part to play’. Ladybug was still Marinette, and Marinette was still Ladybug. They were parts, certainly, but they were both her.

The difference between Marinette with her dual roles and Lila with her lies was that Lila had a choice. She didn’t need to lie or pretend to be someone she wasn’t. And in that same vein, she certainly

“You chose to play this part.” Marinette argued. “You never had to lie for anyone to like you.”

“Oh please. Do you really think they would have done anything for me if I hadn’t lied?”

“YES. They were being nice! They’re nice people!”

Lila rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

“And,” Marinette continued. “You didn’t have to use and abuse their kindness the way you’ve been doing. There was no reason to lie to the extent you did. You could have avoided more trouble if you hadn’t. And yet you not only lied about running a charity, but you used the opportunity to steal the money Rose had raised. Was it even worth it?”

“I got some things out of it at least.” Lila said, uncaring.

“And one of those ‘things’ happens to be an akuma after your head. What plan could you possibly have to prevent THAT?”

"I have friends in high places." Lila stated in an infuriatingly smug manner.

"Unless one of those friends is Hawk Moth, that's not going to help you right now!"

Lila chuckled, giving Marinette a knowing look. As if she knew a secret.

And because it was Lila, who couldn’t seem to resist gloating when she thought she had the edge over someone else…

“Then I have nothing to worry about. It’s not like he would let anything happen. Not to me.”

“Wait—what?”

Marinette had known Lila had been akumatized more than once. She also knew that Lila had tried to help Hawk Moth before. But that had seemed like she had been taking advantage of circumstances at the time. She hadn’t realized Lila was actively working with Hawk Moth!

“Are you saying you’re working WITH Hawk Moth?!”

Lila held a hand to her mouth, looking innocent. “Not at all! I’m merely saying that I’m useful to him. Enough that it would benefit him more to keep me around than it would to let the akuma kill me.”

Marinette stared incredulously.

“Besides, even if Rose wants to harm me, Ladybug and Chat Noir always take priority. Once they show up, she’ll be too focused on them to care about me. And if she does get to me, Hawk Moth would stop it before it gets too far.”

“You’re trusting a supervillain to help you?”

She couldn’t be serious!

“He can’t afford to get rid of me. I came closest to defeating Ladybug and Chat Noir in my first akumatization.”

Oh god, she was serious.

“He doesn’t need you, Lila! Hawk Moth’s entire MO has been to manipulate and use people for his own ends! What makes you think you are any different?”

“Because I know how to play him and he knows how much I hate Ladybug.”

Marinette gaped.

“You really hate her that much over one incident? Are you really that petty that you would actively try to help the guy terrorizing Paris?”

It…she couldn’t even rationalize it.

Here Lila was, still completely lacking any personal accountability for anything. After lying and manipulating her friends. After stealing from Rose. After framing Marinette. After working against Ladybug. After admitting to using and manipulating Adrien. After trying to throw Marinette under the bus to save her own skin. After helping to create an akuma that even now was overtaking Paris. And all she could care about was how Ladybug pointed out she was a liar one time.

“She humiliated me!”

And Marinette was just done.

“GET OVER IT!”

Lila gaped at her in shock.

“Get. The hell. OVER it already! So Ladybug was mean when she called you out for lying about her and trying to make her look bad to prop yourself as a false hero to a boy you barely knew! CRY ME A RIVER!”

There was something amusing and even pleasing about the way Lila’s jaw opened and shut a few times before she managed to speak.

“But she made me look bad in front of Adrien!”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t of lied about her in the first place!“ Marinette countered, pointing at Lila angrily. “You lied about her to him. You lied about being a hero. You lied about being her friend. And you used that claimed position to then insult her to try and make her look bad just to make yourself look better in comparison based off a made up story! It’s no wonder she was mad at you!”

“She was just wanting Adrien for herself—“

Marinette leaned forward, pointing at Lila agitatedly and causing Lila to take a step back. “She called you out for lying about her and pretending to be a superhero! Which by the way, was not only stupid and rude but DANGEROUS!”

“I was fine until she showed up!” Lila hissed.

“You gave an interview on the Ladyblog claiming to be Ladybug’s best friend!” Marinette shouted, gesturing to the wider Paris to emphasize the point. “Did it not occur to you in the slightest how horribly dangerous that was? How BAD that could have gone? If any run of the mill criminal had believed it? If Hawk Moth believed it?”

“But he didn’t.”

“Because Ladybug called you out! Which was the reason you got akumatized in the first place so he knew! And yet all this time, you’ve been holding a grudge over it!” Marinette clenched her fists in fury. “Ladybug APOLOGIZED to you for it! TWICE! And even offered to actually be your friend and thus make ONE of your lies true! And you threw it away out of spite! You gave up a legitimate opportunity that would have worked to your benefit in favor of working with a supervillain because you can’t let go of a petty grudge!”

“I—”

“And for WHAT?” She demanded. “A bunch of lies that didn’t even matter to you!”

“How do you—“

“I mean, they clearly must not have been that important since you’ve been telling so many that you couldn’t even keep them straight! And you are willing to damn Paris and everyone in it just because ONE of them was revealed?! WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Lila remained silent, simply staring at Marinette angrily and ultimately answering the question for her. Marinette on her end growled in anger, raising her hands to emphasize the point and desperately wishing for something to wring.

“Are you even angry because Ladybug was rude in how she outted you? Or are you angry that she realized you were lying at all?“

Lila looked away almost petulantly, and that was answer enough even before she spoke.

“I was hurt!”

“You were stupid! You never needed to lie about anyone! It would have been less trouble for you if you hadn’t! None of this would have even been an issue if not for you starting it all in the first place! AND FOR WHAT?” Marinette questioned. “A free lunch and to get to sit next to a guy who you made uncomfortable enough that he chose to switch seats twice just to get away from you?”

Lila gasped and glared at Marinette in outrage. Her mouth opened to spit something that would no doubt be more vitriol.

“Whoa! Am I interrupting?”

Both girls spun in surprise to see Chat Noir landing on the ground a few feet away.

“Chat Noir! Thank goodness you’re here!” Lila cried as she rushed over to him, the picture of helpless and in distress.

Marinette wanted to gag.

“Of course!” Chat replied, amping up the charm. He smiled suavely as Lila proceeded to latch onto his arm. “No akuma can keep this cat away when there’s a damsel in need.”

“Oh, I am!” Lila exclaimed, sounding tearful. “This entire day has been terrible and now an akuma is after me!”

Chat gasped at that. “That’s horrible!”

What the hell, Chat? You KNOW it’s Lila! You KNOW what she’s like!

He looked from Lila to Marinette. “I should get you both out of here then before the akuma arrives.”

Marinette hesitated. While in most circumstances it would be best to stick together, she needed to find someplace hidden to transform. Especially now that she knew her partner was active.

But before she could speak, Lila squeezed Chat’s arm.

“Oh, but wouldn’t it be faster with less people?” Lila asked innocently. “You could just carry me to safety.”

Chat raised an eyebrow at that. “But there’s three of us. I can’t just leave Marinette here.”

But Lila wasn’t deterred. She made her eyes wide and fearful as she clutched Chat’s arm in apparent fear to the point Marinette wondered if it hadn’t gone numb from lack of circulation. “I’m the one the akuma is after. The mob won’t even bother with her.”

Chat Noir looked between the two girls, still uncertain.

To add to her argument, Lila leaned in closer to Chat to whisper to him. “And I’m scared. I think she may try to hand me over the mob. You saw the way she was yelling at me, didn’t you?”

He looked back to Marinette, uncertain. “I don’t know…”

…..

Marinette sighed.

Yeah, she pretty much knew that was coming.

As much as she hated siding with Lila, this could be the only opportunity she has. It helped her own plans, but still. Dammit Lila!

"Lila's right. You need to be quick. I'll be okay on my own."

The hero frowned, not entirely convinced but seeming to accept the answer.

As if noticing his hesitation, Lila pulled on his arm to get his attention. “We should hurry before anyone else shows up!”

Chat shook himself. “Yeah. You’re right. We’d better go.”

Marinette watched as Lila settled herself in Chat’s arms, naturally not missing the opportunity to shoot the pig-tailed girl a smirk that Marinette forced herself not to react to. Chat, meanwhile, kept his gaze on Marinette.

“Civilians are getting set up at the Eiffel Tower. You should head there, too.” He told her, giving her a wink.

“Take care!” She gave a weak smile in return and waved them off. Without much further ado, Chat carried Lila away. Marinette watched them go until they could no longer be seen. Until finally…

She was alone.

She was alone and feeling oh so drained from that whole encounter. Feeling shaky, she stepped towards a wall and leaned against it for support. Shoulders slumped, she let herself slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Marinette took a breath.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shouldn’t have. She was just…so angry after everything.

Lila was bad enough as is, but this whole mess on top of her usual stress-inducing antics? And Marinette having to constantly go out of her way to help her despite everything she’s done and continues to try to do?

It was everything Marinette had been wanting to say.

But...that didn’t make it right.

Tikki appeared before her holder, looking sad.

“You only said the truth.”

“I was angry and being mean.” Marinette insisted. Because when an emotion-manipulating supervillain like Hawk Moth was around, she should KNOW better than to do things that could upset people! How is it she hasn’t learned yet?

“It’s healthy to vent.”

Marinette shook her head. “I should have reined in my temper. After all, letting my anger get the best of me was what started this mess with Lila in the first place.”

“No, that was on Lila for lying about you so much.” Tikki insisted. “She lied about being your friend to everyone. She lied about knowing who you were to Adrien. And then she turned around and tried to disparage you not even seconds later just to make herself look better. You had every right to be angry then, just as you had every right to feel angry now.”

She looked at the kwami. Somehow, that was helpful and not at the same time.

It was everything she wanted to hear…and yet…

Marinette sighed.

“Thanks, Tikki.”

She wished she could believe her.

But the real Tikki would never say that.

____________________

He felt the wind through his hair as he ran through the streets. Lila’s weight in his arms was heavy but manageable. Her grip around him was not exactly pleasant, though. And he really wanted to make for the rooftops and travel his usual way, but…well…circumstances didn’t really make that advisable.

“Thank you so much! You truly are a hero.” She gushed. She was certainly trying to play it up once they were alone.

“Lila lied about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten! She lied about having tinnitus!”

It took him a bit to figure out just what the akuma was doing. Her news didn’t surprise him, since he already knew those claims were fake. So he spent more time than he should have just looking at her in confusion and trying to work out what her power was for when he met up with Ladybug.

It was admittedly faster carrying Lila. And easier to manage than trying to handle two girls at once. He only would have been able to carry one to begin with, and it would have been difficult to try and guide them both while keeping an eye out for interlopers and make sure nothing happened to either of them before they made it to the destination. Really, it was the better choice to just let him carry Lila.

But part of him was disappointed. He’d still really wanted to try and take both girls with him. Marinette especially didn’t deserve to be left behind. But if she was the one telling him to go, there was little he could do about it.

“Lila threatened Marinette in the bathroom her first day back! She tried to bring Marinette under her thumb by threatening to ruin her friendships with everyone and to make sure she could never be around Adrien!”

He hadn’t known that. It made sense though, given that Lila had gone so far as to frame Marinette and get her expelled. He should have realized there had to have been an earlier altercation for her to actively target Marinette in such a way.

But if it had been that first day Lila came back? That same day Adrien had told Marinette not to reveal her lies?

That…hurt, actually. Why hadn’t Marinette told him about it? He’d just thought Lila was wanting attention or make herself seem special. He wouldn’t have told her to just let Lila lie if he’d known she was doing things like that!

“Of course.” He reassured her as he kept his eyes on his surroundings. It wouldn’t do to be caught too soon after all.

He also kept his awareness on Lila. Couldn’t put it past her to try something, either. But the girl seemed more interested in chattering, spinning some new tale, he was sure.

“Lila has been working with Hawk Moth and trying to help him take down Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

It was the multitude of gasps resounding in the area that clued him in to what the akuma was doing. He watched in dawning realization as the expressions of those around him shifted from fear to shock and then to pure outrage.

Almost immediately, mutterings began. Followed shortly by shouts.

“That witch!”

“She needs to burn!”

“Burn the witch!” The call started, and soon was echoed throughout the area.

It hit him then.

The akuma was making people mad. She was intentionally trying to provoke people and upset them through use of a list of Lila’s crimes. And once they were outraged by one of them, they became part of the akuma’s thralls.

This…wasn’t good.

He had to get out of here!

“Where are we going?” Lila asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t worry!” He told her with a charming smile. “I’m taking you where you need to be.”

She nodded and seemed to curl in closer to him. Almost snuggling. “What a relief. I knew you could be counted on.”

“I do try.”

“You certainly deserve more than to be considered Ladybug’s sidekick.”

“Hmm?”

He barely paid her words any mind, instead focusing on continuing to the destination.

“Lila was the one who stole Adrien’s book in order to pass herself off as a hero to get his attention!”

“Dude!” He heard Nino cry out. “That almost got him taken out of school!”

He started at that.

Lila had?

He had thought he lost it, but it was really Lila who stole it?

No, it made sense. She brought up heroes after seeing him looking through it. She had presented the same pendant from the book and claimed to be the ‘Fox Heroine Volpina’. And when he tried to look for the book to confirm, she stopped him.

But…how did his father get the book back then? Had Lila returned it? Knowing her, WOULD she have?

No. Lila hadn’t met his father until that day Kagami was akumatized. That meant whatever she did with the book, she wasn’t the one to bring it back. Not that he would have expected her to, knowing her. That w—

NO. FOCUS.

“—and of course it’s such a shame that she doesn’t appreciate all you do for her.” Lila continued.

“Of course Ladybug appreciates me. She’s told me I’m irreplaceable.”

Lila pouted. “But she doesn’t tell you everything, does she? She doesn’t respect you. How many secrets is she keeping from you?”

He frowned, but didn’t say anything.

Adrien sprinted towards the door.

“Lila intentionally took the akuma to become Chameleon and pretended to be Adrien to insult his friends, hurt Nino’s feelings, and steal his hat!”

He stumbled.

She did WHAT?!

No wonder Nino hadn’t been able to meet his eyes when he got back!

He felt the anger over the injustice. He should have said something that day. At least let Nino know what Lila was really like. Something!

It was getting too much. He could feel the pressure and anger build. It would have been so sweet to give into it and let it out and just make her PAY—

Adrien fumbled with the door to the outside, desperate to get away and out of earshot before he heard anything else.

He wasn’t sure he would be able to take it.

“She puts you down, you know.” Lila continued. “I’ve heard her talking badly about you.”

“Really?”

She nodded, appearing sad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you, but it’s only because I care. I just…” She pretended to wipe away a tear from her clearly dry eyes. “I just admire you so much and you deserve better than someone who keeps you at arm’s length.”

She smiled up at him, resting an arm on his bicep.

“If you ever need someone to turn to, I want you to know that you can trust me. I would support you in anything.”

And Chat…

Smiled back at her.

“Thank you, Lila. I’m glad to know I have your support.”

He made it outside and moved to close the door just as the final words rang out.

“Lila broke into the Agreste mansion to try to get an in with Gabriel and is serving as his spy in the school in an attempt to control Adrien!”

The door shut with a final thud.

Adrien stood there, hands on the door. Silent. Unmoving.

“Kid?” Plagg asked, poking his head out.

…

“I know that was rough, but you did well to keep your head.”

…

“Adrien, shouldn’t we be trying to find liar-girl and get her someplace safe?”

…

He paused, realizing there was no response.

“Adrien?”

…

Adrien turned away from the door and smiled, not really looking at his kwami.

“You’re right, Plagg. We should find Lila.”

Plagg froze.

Over the years and centuries working with various holders for a multitude of purposes, Plagg had gotten well versed in recognizing expressions. Faces said a lot, after all. And he could usually get a good reading off someone from their expressions.

Adrien’s expression in that moment? He’d seen it before.

It was that same murderous look in the eyes of every other Black Cat user he’d had when they had been pushed too far and were ready and willing to kill someone.

“Wait! Kid, hold on!”

“Plagg.”

“Adrien, think about it! You don’t want to do this!”

“Claws out.”

Lila finally seemed to take note of their surroundings. There had been no one in the streets for a while now, and the area around them had been strangely silent due to the lack of people. While she hadn’t known where exactly they were going, Chat seemed to be taking her in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. The closer they got, though, the more she could hear something in the distance.

And sure enough, as the Tower came into sight, Lila could see a rather dense crowd up ahead. Chat didn’t even react as she clutched at his arm, growing more uneasy the closer they got to the Eiffel Tower and the growing crowd.

“Chat Noir?” She drew out his name, uncertain and wary. “What’s going on?”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Chat replied with a smile that did not at all fit the ever growing atmosphere.

“I’m taking you where you need to be.”

He came to a stop at the square, keeping a firm grip on Lila so she couldn’t draw away. The crowd around them noticed their presence and parted, forming a path that led closer to the tower. And at the end stood a stack of wood and a very familiar figure.

Lila gasped.

“Hello, Lila!” Witch Hunter greeted her with an all too wide smile.

“We’re so happy you made it!”

#ml fic #witch hunter #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #lila sucks #chat noir #rose lavillant #oh no #Oh crap

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