#nah no nope we are PUSHING THROUGH THE SELF DOUBT because this is A GOOD AND WORTHWHILE TASK!!!!!!!!!!

[bailaconox]

um turns out moving everything to tumblr is going to be incredibly time consuming because i forgot that having more freedom w html means more choices i have to make and oh my god... well at least i have this fun project to get me through the next few weeks 😭😭😭

#personal #um. maybe ill go eat smth and then come back to plan how tf i'm going to do this 😫 #literally WHYYYYYYYY am i doing this to myself fhfhdhjfjk #nah no nope we are PUSHING THROUGH THE SELF DOUBT because this is A GOOD AND WORTHWHILE TASK!!!!!!!!!! #i mean if nothing else i can copy paste all the word i did on carrd and just tweak it so i did save myself time there! #however. THE CUSTOMIZATION............ #dude idk i picked out a good theme i think so that's a solid fcking start i think!

[bbdaydreams]

Courage My Love// Semi Eita x Reader

Series Masterlist•next>

Chapter One: Late

You and Semi were assigned to sit next to each other in your English class during your first year which is how you initially met. About a quarter through the year Semi noticed you had the letter “X” in black marker on the back of your hand which led him to ask if you went to a show the night before. You said yes and told him what band you saw which made him light up and show you his hand as proof that he was there too.

“Dude, let me know when you go to a show! We could go together,” Semi told you with a grin on his face.

“Will do, bro,” you smiled back at him.

Since then, you’ve been concert buddies and best friends. You weren’t afraid to run up to tackle the other from a distance. Semi’s lent you multiple sweatshirts that other students immediately have identified as his considering the size difference. You’ve gone into his personal bubble many times, mostly to bother him by squishing his face. Other’s believe there’s more going on between you two but you’re both quick to shut down those comments, even if in reality you did harbor feelings for him.

You were both currently in his dorm fiddling with tunes on your guitars. “Y/n, you’re going too fast. Slow down,” Semi laughed while holding your wrists in place on the guitar.

“Dammit! I got nervous,” you responded setting the acoustic guitar down next to your body before using your hands to rub your face.

“It’s just me here. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“I know, I know. I’ve got to get over this fear.”

Semi picked up his electric guitar and put the strap over himself so he could play properly. “I mean, I get it. It’s not easy playing in front of people, let alone perform. Did you see where I put my pick?”

“How do you do it? You honestly make it look easy. Also, dude, you have like three still stuck on your face.”

“Oh shit,” he responded before feeling his forehead remembering the guitar pick war you guys had. He grabbed one and wiped it on his shirt to take off your saliva for a better grip.  “Uhh, I don’t know actually. I definitely do get anxious sometimes but I think I get so caught in the moment that in the end I don’t care who is watching. I’m just having fun, ya know?”

“I’m so focused on what others think, I don’t think I could ever perform how you do.”

“Well, you better get over it. You gotta hold up your end of the deal since you wanted me to do the talent show so bad.”

After Shiratorizawa lost to Karasuno, Semi had more time to focus on his band, which had formed the summer of your second year. They try to put on a show every other week at a local café and managed to gain a decent amount of attention but it definitely wasn’t enough for them to break out. You wanted to push them in anyway you could which led you to annoying Semi to sign up for the talent show.

~

“Eita, you should sign up for the talent show!”

“Nah. Too many preps. They’re not gonna be interested,” Semi responded in between bites of his lunch.

“Don’t think like that. Your guy’s music is good okay? I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend I’m saying it because I legitimately mean it. Eagle Thorns is my favorite band. I know you guys will make it big and this can help!”

“They’ve got a good point, Eita,” their bassist, Ranmaru, said.

“I think it’ll be fun,” the drummer, Subaru, added on.

“We’ll do it,” Jiro, the lead guitarist, responded as he smiled up at you.

“Thank you, boys. I’ll sign you guys up-“

“Nope. Nope, no, no, no,” Semi spoke up, leaning over to take the pen from your hand.

“What do you mean no? Everyone else said yes.”

“I didn’t agree. I’ll agree to it if you do it too. I’ll even write your name on the list for you,” Semi stated with a smirk.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Guess we’re not participating then. Sorry boys-“

“I’ll do it. I want you guys to perform.”

~

“I don’t get why you want me to participate. I’m not the one with a band,” you told him.

“I know, but you want a band of your own. This could help you too. And even if you end up not finding members, it’ll help you get over your stage fright.”

“You have a weird way of showing you care,” you laughed while pushing his shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” Semi responded while pretending to square up.

“Yeah,” you immediately bucked back standing on your toes to help you get closer to his face.

“Ranmaru, the love birds are at it again!” Subaru spoke when he opened the door to Semi’s room.

“Oi! Eita, stop flirting! It’s time for band practice,” Ranmaru scolded.

“How many times do I have to tell you? We’re just friends,” Semi retorted turning his back to you.

You made eye contact with Jiro and he gave you a sorry look. Jiro was the only one that knew of your feelings and you planned to keep it that way. He was a year younger and didn’t speak to many other third years so you felt you could trust him.

“Yeah guys, c’mon. How many times do we have to tell you we’re just friends? It’s getting tiring at this point,” you added on with a fake happy smile on your face.

“Whatever. You get a song ready, y/n?”

“Still working on it. I’ll leave you guys alone and head back to my dorm. Have fun!” And with that you excused yourself and headed off.

-

When you got back to your dorm, you immediately sent a text to Tendou asking him to come over so you could vent to him. While waiting you came up with a plan. You decided you were going to play a song that expressed your feelings and then once you came off stage you were going to walk up to Semi and confess, hoping that the high from being on stage walks off with you.

“He said that?” Tendou asked as he sat on your bed with a large plush in his lap, watching you pace around your dorm.

“Yes! I don’t know what to do! Graduation is just around the corner and I wanna tell him before we go out separate ways after high school. Tendou, I’m so scared what if we don’t talk to each other again after graduation?”

“No, that’s not happening. You guys are best friends. I doubt he’d stop talking to you after we graduate.”

“Ok, but what if I confess and he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Trust me he feels the same.”

“How do you know that? Does he ever talk about me?”

“I can just tell by how he looks at you! And I’ll be honest he doesn’t bring you up but when someone else does he immediately tells them to shut up. Incase you didn’t know, I understand guy code. That means ‘don’t talk about my girl’.”

“Okay, okay. That puts me somewhat at ease.”

“Good. Now all you have to do is play that song without fucking up.”

“Ugh, Tendou! That just made me sick to my stomach!” You exclaimed before jumping on the bed and tackling him.

“It’s the truth! Just picture the audience in their underwear!” Tendou retaliated as he grabbed a pillow to hit you with.

“It’s not that easy!” You said while lightly hitting his chest.

“Why do you care so much as to what people think?”

“I don’t care about what others think I just care about what he thinks!”

“Shit, you have it BAD, bad,” Tendou laughed while putting the pillow behind his head for support. “Y/n, he’d be an idiot to reject you. And I’d remind him daily if he did. You are such a catch, it’d be a shame if he let you go to waste,” he told you earnestly.

“I-, thank you, Tendou. It means a lot-“

“Oh shit, I didn’t know you guys were in the middle of something,” Semi voiced when he let himself into your dorm, a reoccurring scene he’s noticed.

“Eita!” You greeted him, immediately getting off of Tendou to go hug the setter.

“Semi-Semi, I thought your practice was going to last longer,” Tendou said, taking note of the small glare Semi gave him.

“Stop calling me that and we finished early,” the ash blonde responded before turning to you. “What about you? Did you manage to pick a song?”

“I did!” you told him with a smile.

-

After two weeks of practicing it was finally the night of the talent show. You had your guitar in a soft case, that Semi had given you, across your back. Were you nervous? Yes. Of the crowd? Not exactly. What you told Semi and Tendou wasn’t a lie. You didn’t care about what people thought of you, unless they were people you cared about. You cared about how your friends would react. You cared about what Semi’s band members thought. You even cared about what the members of the volleyball team would think, even if you’ve only met them a few times. But most importantly, you cared about what Semi’s opinion of your performance was.

You and Semi have sang along to numerous songs in different settings, even taking turns to do karaoke in the car. All those times you didn’t care about what he thought because you were so comfortable being around him, but now that it matters, that’s when your self doubt kicked in.

“Ready?” Semi asked you from behind, making you jump.

You took a deep breath after the scare before smiling up at him, “Nope, but I’m up soon.”

“Indeed you are. You’ll do great. I know you will.” Semi’s honesty was something you always admired about him. In your three years of friendship, he’s never lied to you. He’s always evaluated the situation and told you his thoughts without a single waver in his voice. Him believing in you, gave you all the confidence in the world.

You guys were standing side to side watching the other acts perform their talents from side stage. As your turn neared closer, he raised an arm over your shoulder, rubbing it to help ease your nerves causing you to lean your head on him.

“Hey, I gotta tell you something later,” you spoke, avoiding looking at him.

“Tell me now,” he responded gently.

“Nah. After we perform.”

“Alright,” he laughed. “Ima go find the guys, we’re up after you. Good luck, don’t fuck up or else you won’t hear the end of it from me.”

“Ha, ha, ha. Okay jackass. Good luck to you too. Tell the boys I wish them luck too.”

As soon as Semi left your side, the announcer spoke up to announce it was now your turn to perform. You took a deep breath before shaking each of your limbs to make sure they were working. Once you concluded that they were, you made your way to the center of the stage.

“Good evening, L/N, the stage is all yours,” the announcer spoke before placing the microphone on a stand and adjusting it to your height while you grabbed the chair left on stage for you to use. You gave him a silent nod before he left the stage.

“Thank you,” you spoke while grabbing the mic to tilt it a little more towards you. “I’m going to be singing a song by a band called ONE OK ROCK. This song is called ‘Wherever You Are’. Please enjoy.”

Wherever you are, I'll always make you smile

Wherever you are, I'm always by your side

Whatever you say, kimi wo omou kimochi

I promise you "forever" right now

You were almost done with the song and decided to look up and scan the crowd. You were quick to notice Tendou and Ushijima sitting in the crowd, Tendou looking more impressed than the latter. When your eyes connected with the judges you remembered situation you were in and closed your eyes to put all your effort into the last three lines. It went quiet in the auditorium after you finished which only made your eyes stay shut until loud clapping and hollering commenced, one voice sticking out from all the rest.

“Wooooo! Go y/n!” You could hear Tendou yell. You looked up to make eye contact with him again. He was grinning from ear to ear while talking to the people beside him, most likely telling them he knew you.

You grabbed the microphone again and gave a small chuckle before speaking, “thank you, everyone.”

The announcer came back into the stage and gave you a hand to help you get up from the chair. While you put the guitar away he put the chair away and spoke into the microphone as you waved the crowd goodbye. “Beautiful wasn’t it? So passionate. Thank you so much for blessing all of our ears with your voice. Now, up next we have another musical performance. This next one is a group and they call themselves Eagle Thorns! Please welcome Eita, Ranmaru, Subaru, and Jiro to the stage!”

Subaru walked up first with his drum sticks in his hand and made his way to his kit. Once he got to his seat, he raised one arm up waved to greet the crowd. Jiro and Ranmaru walked up together with their instruments and waved to the crowd as they went to their spots. Semi followed them from a couple feet behind with his guitar and made his way to center stage. “Hope you guys still have some energy after all the performances you’ve seen tonight. We are Eagle Thorns and if there’s any parents in the room, I hope you brought some ear plugs,” Semi joked.

You were standing off to the side of the stage watching them. It was funny to you because they were really acting how they did for any other gig. You’ve been to almost all of their shows and we’re still amazed every time they took the stage.

“This song is an original. It’s called ‘Late’.”

I can't stop thinking it, thinking it

I can't stop thinking it, thinking it

That it's a little too late, a little too late, a little too late, a little too late

“Here we go!” Semi yelled into the mic. What followed was Ranmaru sing the first part of the hard vocals while Jiro did the second part which made you realize why Semi made his joke directed towards the parents earlier. In true Semi fashion, he found a way to include some spice into the band’s performance.

What kept bothering you was his use of the word ‘mistake’. All it did was make you question who he was talking about. You went down the list of people you thought it could’ve been but as far as you knew, Semi didn’t talk to a lot of people regularly. He preferred to keep his social circle small.

“Thank you so much for giving us a chance to play tonight. Before we leave the stage I’d like to ask someone very special to come up to the stage. They already know who they are,” Semi spoke into the mic.

A couple of performers that had gone up before were whispering amongst themselves.

“Is he doing what I think he’s doing?”

“Super bold move of him if he is.”

“Oh my god! He’s gonna ask someone to be his date for the dance next week!”

After that last comment you could feel a bunch of gazes landing on your form. The small group of students were now encouraging you to go up, but all you could do was grip into the strap that was across your body for comfort.

“Y/n! He’s talking about you!”

“Y/n go up there! What are you waiting for?”

“It’s not me guys,” you spoke. You knew you weren’t that special someone the moment Semi turned to the direction that was the opposite of where you were. “After all, we’re just friends.”

The group around you grew very confused from your response until they looked forward and saw someone else walk on stage towards the lead singer.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Would you go on a date with me and accompany me next week to the dance?” Semi asked the girl, who you knew nothing about. He was asking out someone you had no idea existed.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused yourself from the people surrounding you and bolted to the closest restroom. When you made it outside the door, you slid off the guitar and placed it on the ground so you could run into a stall. You immediately took out your phone and started texting Tendou asking him to come to your dorm so you could have a shoulder to cry on since the one you normally rely on isn’t an option at the moment. Tendou responded immediately, encouraging you to at least wait until the event is over for the awards ceremony. You were about to text him back but froze when you heard foot steps.

“I think she’s in here,” a soft voice spoke.

“It has to be this one, who else’s guitar would this be?” another voice spoke.

“Hmm,” a third girl spoke. “Hi, we’re looking for L/n Y/n! We-“

“Shhhh! You don’t have to be so loud, Izumi,” the second voice spoke.

“I don’t think it was a good idea to come looking for them now.”

“You’re probably right, but we wouldn’t have another opportunity to talk to them.”

What could they want with you? What could some strangers possibly want to talk to you about? You quietly leaned forward on the plastic door to look through the crack to judge the situation. There were three girls total, and one of them looked mean. As much as you didn’t like judging people based on their looks, the other two girls appeared to be nicer which made you take a chance.

“You’re looking for me?” You asked, stepping out of the stall while wiping your eyes.

The girl with the soft voice immediately took notice of your state and turned to grab a paper towel and wet it before handing it to you. “Here you go,” she said with a small smile.

“Uh, thank you,” you responded awkwardly.

“Sorry we’re meeting like this but we wanted to ask you a question. Would you be interested in being in our band? We’d love to have you,” the girl you were on edge about asked.

“You want me in your band? I only know how to play acoustic guitar, I’m an amateur at best,” you responded honestly while dabbing your face with the wet paper towel.

“Okay but you sing amazingly! We need a lead singer and your voice matches our vibe! At least think about it. Please. Let’s change information,” the louder one spoke as she handed you her phone.

You gave a genuine smile to the girls before accepting the device and started entering your information as you took yours out so she could do the same.

“Award ceremony is starting! All performers please make your way to the stage!” Someone yelled from the hallways.

You were about to speak but the leader of the girls spoke up for you. “Guess that means you, girly. Good luck!” She handed you your guitar back and ushered you out of the bathroom so you’d be able to make it where you needed to be on time.

-

When you made it back to the stage, Semi quickly made his way towards you, leaving his band behind, with a smile on his face. “Hey! Where’d you go?” He asked, completely unaware that you ran off to go cry.

“Not important,” you told him dryly.

Giving you a confused look he decided to continue the conversation. “Alright... well what was it you were gonna tell me?”

Now you were having an internal battle within yourself. Do you actually confess to him after he technically just confessed to someone else? Do you tell him something else? Or, do you just not tell him anything?

Knowing the last option would just cause him to bug you until you told him something you decided to go with the second option.

“I was gonna say that there’s a big name in the crowd tonight. Someone from a record label is here to scout out a new artist but I don’t know who.”

“Oh shit. No way! Hope they liked us.”

“Yeah.”

At this point you didn’t know what to do. You were upset that he’s never spoken about this person to you before. You thought you were closer than this. Don’t best friends tell each other about their crushes? Don’t best friends tell each other about things like this? Did you see Semi more as a best friend than he did for you? Were you putting in more effort into the relationship than he was this entire time? Were you so stuck in your fantasy that every small task he did for you mean nothing to him? Was he just being nice to you?

“Semi, who is she?” you asked trying not to cry for the second time in the past hour.

“Semi?” He asked taking notice of how you used his last name instead of his first name. “She’s someone I’ve been seeing on the low for about a month now.”

A month. He’s kept her away from you for a month.

“Why haven’t you ever introduced me to her?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

“Why would you think that?” You asked with in a louder tone.

He looked at you even more confused as to why you were acting the way you were. “Sorry, I didn’t know I needed my friend’s approval to date someone?” Semi responded with the same tone you did, but with a little more bite.

His answer left you feeling as if you’ve been stabbed in the front. Out of all the ways he could’ve said, he chose to respond like that? Not wanting to draw attention you guys you decided to end the conversation before it got out of hand. “Don’t talk to me Semi,” you told him before turning to walk away from him.

He tried to reach out to grab your arm and ask you what the hell your problem was but the announcer spoke up.

“Alright, now that everyone is here and the judges have counted their votes, it’s time to announce the winners! In third place we have the dance duo! Congrats you guys!”

You were walking behind the line of performers so that the crowd would hopefully not see you walk off the stage as the announcer spoke.

“And in second place we have Eagle Thorns!” You froze at the loud cheers that erupted and the arm that you recognized belonged to Jiro as the hugged you from excitement right when you walked by.

“And in first place, drum roll please... we have L/n Y/n! Congratulations!” Now you can’t help yourself. Being too overwhelmed with emotions is never a good thing because now here you are, letting tears fall in front of a whole room of people. Jiro immediately picked you up and spun you around before putting you down and encouraging you to walk to center stage to accept the fake trophy that you weren’t expecting. You wiped your tears for a second time that night and gave a slight wave to the crowd before speaking into the microphone that the announcer was holding for you.

“Judges, thank you so much. I honestly didn’t think I’d win this but from the bottom of my heart thank you so, so, much!”

While you were giving your thank you speech, all Semi could do is question why you were so upset. As far as he knew, you had a thing for Tendou and Tendou had a thing for you, so why were you so invested in his relationship?

#haikyuu!! #haikyu #semi haikyuu #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #semi eita #haikyu x reader #haikyu angst

[fordanoia]

Fic Writer Interview

I was tagged way way back by @endae​ (my beloved). Thank you for the tag!!!

How many works do you have on AO3?

19 (haha), I really gotta work on moving all my paranoid ford one shots over into a one shot series though. I have about 70 fic posts on here.

What’s your total word count on AO3

180,212. Half of which all comes from Gotham Falls which isn’t a surprise.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Mainly just Gravity Falls. 

I wouldn’t really count the other stuff I’ve done because it’s only been 1 fic, and that was it really. R.ise of the Guardians, O.utlast:Whistleblower, S.anders Sides. N.aruto and D.eath Note if you wanna go way back.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Even Stone Crumbles 2. I Think I Saw You 3. Gotham Falls 4. A Blinded Eye for a Blinded Eye 5. Please Come

I’m pretty happy ITISY is up there since that’s kind of my ‘best series work’, Blinded Eye too, that one’s been a lot of fun to write because it’s a ficlet series.

Kind of really thrown that the Even Stone Crumbles one shot is the hightest one though, dang people really just wanted to see Ford cry huh, I can accomodate that.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Uh... rarely. 

Basically, it’s something where creators responding to me got me nervous so I didn’t generally do it as a creator myself until I found out some consider it polite to respond and since then I’ve been making an effort of doing it going forward. 

I’m not online that often nowadays though so... I haven’t done it much.

Wanna emphasize tho how much I THRIVE off of comments and that I appreciate them even if I didn’t reply to them. Genuinely I’ve made fics a higher priority bc a comment revitalized my passion for the fic.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Most of my paranoid one shots wind up with angsty endings where it’s implied that Ford just has to keep Living in it. 

I had one where he woke up and thought Bill had Killed A Person while he was possessing him, and it leaves off an unsettling note.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever written?

Rarely. I wouldn’t consider myself a crossover person, which is funny because I have one exception for that and it IS Gotham Falls (which is the stan twins from gf inside of gotham from b.atman the animated series).

For the sake of the question though imma include rp for wildest thing I’ve ever done which was rp as Chris McLean from total drama island and hosted a game of ‘rabbit doubt’ (which is an angsty rp game where 1 person is a killer and is killing the other characters until they’re the only one left or the group discovers who it is). Players included bill, some undertale characters, and etc.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No. Worst I’ve ever gotten was slightly rude stuff.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

‘Rarely’ really is the word of the day here. Some g.ravity falls and some vamp oc content.  

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. Closest I’ve ever done has been rp. Remembered I co-wrote a fic with a friend when I was in middle school. Dual self-insert where the a.katsuki (from n.aruto) kidnapped us from our world and we wound up becoming ninjas.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

hands down, B.illford. Manipulative and toxic is a ship dynamic I enjoy a lot.

Honorable second place B.lackice (J.ack Frost/P.itch Black) which i’ve been coming back to read fics for every long once in a while since 2013. Even if it’s only in spurts it is still technically the longest I’ve cared for a ship. (Surprisingly, I actually like this ship when Pitch genuinely reforms, kozmotis style)

(I don’t care about the vast majority of ships so not a hard competition here.)

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Gotham F- lol no, I’m determined to not die until I finish that bad boy.

Dear Stan(ford). Unfortunately, an easy answer. I’ve never gone back to finish it really, and it’s the lowest on the totem poles out of all my wips.

There’s nothing wrong with it, and it’s got good legs, but I think the slice-of-life sort of pace makes this harder for me to write especially with it being an episodic set up which gives me nothing much to jump to between each letter. 

It’s a bit of a ‘as the mood strikes me’ but I always have something higher priority and I’m more invested in so the mood never strikes.

What are your writing strengths?

I’d like to think that once I’ve got a character down that I can do their dialogue really well and character interactions. Characterization in general.

Also tense scenes.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Fluff, casual conversations, new characters, fighting.

Whenever I try anything entirely light hearted I generally fall flat and it all comes out so stocky/woody.

New characters, if I don’t Know A Character Through and Have A True Feel for them, then I just flounder all over the place. I don’t know how to write if I don’t know what they’d be thinking and feeling past about how ANY person would think/feel.

Fighting - I mean hell, common weakness, same issue as fluff/slice-of-life I just feel like I’m pushing words. Half the time I can get in a groove with it, but other times it’s - arm hit wall, punch go to face but miss.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Yeah, more than fine. If the 2nd language becomes plot important then I think you should either include translation or mark the language as multilingual, but yeah nah.

I’m someone that has to know what it’s saying even if it’s not Plot Important so I prefer the translations regardless (if google translate won’t get the point across for me).

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

N.aruto. 

See above for mention of that self insert a.katsuki kidnapping fic.

We posted it on quizilla, and it’s a shame it’s gone because it was actually fun to read from what I remember.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

.... That’s a hard decision. 

My baby is Gotham Falls, always has been. I’ve reached a difficult point on it though because I’m at a point where I’m bringing in mmm 6 new characters (B.atman villains) which I’m trying to bring in over the next 10 chapters PLUS it’s going to be with fight/action scenes probably every other chapter if not nearly every chapter - both of which are really hard for me to write. I adore it probably the most and it is easily the most I’ve worked on any fic, but it’s also my biggest challenge. (And it holds some of my oldest writing which as always can hurt to read when you’re better now, but NO way am i updating 60k of old work).

Then I love doing p.aranoid ford fics, they’re my favorite go to. Writing A Prime P.aranoid Ford fic that just flows out is one of my favorite things.

Alternatively - ITISY because it’s definitely my top 5 story concepts and one of my best executions of something wasn’t a one shot. 

I’m tagging @pinesbrosfalls, @fexalted, @novantinuum and whoever else may like to do this. Sorry if I double tagged and no pressure to do it of course.

#long post #tag meme #ask game #fic talk #fordachat

[that-one-girl-behind-you]

Illicio 18/?

Part 17

CW for: -Canon-typical violence, body horror and gore  -Some characters talk about the not so great mental state they were in, including suicide ideation.

"Where are they? Elias, if you-" Jon's rather pathetic attempt at a threat is cut off by Elias' gleeful cackle.

"Calm down, Jon. Gerard's merely a bit... lost in thought. As for Martin, the door is open, if you want him back."

"What door? Elias, what did you do?" Jon snarls, pouring the compulsion thick into the question.

"I cashed in a favor. Or rather, a wager." Elias smiles. "You've grown fairly powerful, haven't you?"

"Elias-"

"You'll find Martin right where you put him." Elias' eyes gleam dangerously, his smile still sharp on his face. "In the Lonely."

XVIII

"Nah. I convinced them I'm not suicidal, mostly because, you know, I'm not? Anyways, they're letting me go this weekend. I'll call you when I'm settled, we'll have a sleepover that doesn't involve eye gouging, how about that?" Melanie smirks in his direction, and Gerry rolls his eyes.

"That's my preferred kind of sleepover."

"You have very low standards," Tim mutters in the background.

"I mean yeah." Melanie shrugs. "He's dating Jon."

"I'll take offense to that," Georgie laughs, closing the door to the room behind her after coming in.

Gerry lets his head fall back against the glass, closing his eyes to feel the rattle of the car as the tube makes its way through London's entrails. Melanie's looking well enough, her injuries healing at a slow, human pace that Gerry can't help but to be hopeful about.

"So you don't feel the need to go back?" Tim asks, leaning against the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest. It may be a bit risky to bring an avatar whose powers manifest as fire into a place with so much oxygen and defenseless people, but Tim looks calm for once, no hint of orange in the depths of his dark eyes. "When I left, I started feeling the withdrawal right away. Not like... at first it wasn't pain, I just 'wanted' to come back."

"Nope!" Melanie grins, popping the 'p' with such satisfaction that Gerry can't help but to chuckle along with Georgie. "The only place I want to go to is home."

"Aren't you lucky," Tim says a bit sullenly, but when Gerry looks over he's got the slightest hint of a smile on his face, albeit a sad one.

Tim is sitting two seats away, but Gerry can still feel both the heat -the burns on his skin throbbing in ghost pain- and the conflict emanating from him. Maybe this is why Jon used to feel so comfortable around him, Tim wears his heart on his sleeve and there's no guessing at what he's feeling, regardless of if that feeling holds something good in store for you or not.

"What is it?" Gerry asks after a few more seconds. He doesn't turn to look at Tim, but they both know his words are aimed at him.

Tim's voice, when it comes, holds all the fragility of diamond, hard and sharp and waiting for something to hit at just the right angle to crumble to dust. "Do you- I wonder if this would work on Martin."

Gerry snorts, his tentative good mood wiped away like so much dust under the rain. "Are you asking me?"

"You care," Tim says. It's not a question, and Gerry doesn't bother denying it. Thinking about Martin feels eerily like waiting outside of a locked room, kept barely alive by a voice not done justice by the magnetic tape in a recorder, hoping, praying that the coffin will open, that he will come back, for someone else if not for him.

He keeps hoping the story will end the same, but he knows better than to dare think he'll be lucky twice.

"I don't know that breaking Martin from the Eye is our biggest concern anymore." Gerry sighs. "He told Jon no when he offered."

"...So? Are you just going to leave it like that?" Out the corner of his eye, he sees Tim scowl something fierce. "Jon said the fucking same, are you two just going to sit there and make eyes at each other while he turns?"

"We're trying, alright?! Jon's running himself ragged trying to Know enough that Martin doesn't have to depend on Lukas anymore, and I can keep telling Martin he's more important than the Extinction, but he's too damn stubborn-"

"He said you broke into his flat just to make him talk-"

"Well, you live with him. If you can't bring him back, why-"

"Oh, shut up!" Tim groans, crossing his arms over his chest and throwing his head back to look at the roof "Shut up, for real. You're pissing me off, and we're underground, you're going to make me blow up half the city."

Gerry rolls his eyes, a resigned huff escaping his lips. "Sometimes I wish I'd convinced you to stay behind when we went to get the Dark Sun. I don't know what Lukas did to him, but I doubt he would've done it I'd you'd been here."

"You know what? I do, too." Tim remains focused on the roof of the car, his fingers tapping against his arm in an incessant rhythm that leaves melted indentations on his skin. "I should've stayed where it mattered."

They don't say much after that. What else could they add? He can deny it until he's blue in the face, but they both know Manuela Dominguez burned because Tim still holds Jon dear, whether he likes it or not.

Still, Tim's words weigh heavy in his mind as they climb up the steps to the street and start the short trek to the Institute. It's- he's right. Whatever they promised Martin, this has gone too far. Martin might be ready to sacrifice it out of some misplaced lack of self worth, but nothing is worth his life, not even saving the world. And if he has to break into Martin's office and convince him of it, well... it won't be the first time, at least.

He starts on the stairs up towards the Institute's upper floors, only to stop when he notices Tim is no longer following. When he turns around, Gerry finds him standing at the bottom of the stairs, his face turned towards the door and his eyes overtaken by the bright orange of the Desolation.

"...Are you okay?" Gerry asks, arching an eyebrow.

Tim scowls at whatever it is he's looking at, but lifts a hand to stop him when Gerry makes to walk back down. "You going to see Jon?"

"Martin, actually," Gerry admits. Tim nods.

"Fine. You do that. I'll be down at the Archives." He gestures to the stairs going down instead.

It is a bit odd, but there's something else tugging at his mind right now. Something feels off today crawling under his skin like a many legged being. He wonders for a moment if this is the Spider pulling at him, before he resolves that one way or another it won't do to dwell on it. He feeds the Mother of Puppets either by fearing the manipulation or by fighting against it; the best he can do is be prepared for whatever it is he's being pushed into.

"-ou are. I was starting to fear you'd gotten cold feet." Gerry freezes before turning the corner to enter the corridor that takes to Martin's office. Lukas' voice is light and amused enough that Gerry wants to rearrange his face, mostly because he knows there's only one person in the Institute Lukas really talks to.

"I haven't," Martin says, and he sounds like a gray afternoon given a voice.

"Wonderful! I'd hate for you to give up after so much hard work, when we're already at the finish line. We can go down, then."

Martin doesn't answer, not even when Lukas lets out a satisfied chuckle. Gerry leans around the corner as soon as the familiar static of the Lonely starts ringing in his ears, and he's just in time to see the last of Martin's back disappear into a wall of fog.

The finish line.

Gerry frowns; the Eye won't volunteer any information about what Lukas is talking about, not even when he tries to Look, but if this means that he's done with whatever he was pushing Martin into, then this can't be good. Should he go look for Jon? Would the Eye let him know where they-

"You're looking real unhappy there, dear." Helen's voice doesn't really make him jump as much as merely draws him out of his reverie. "Did you lose something?"

"Someone." Gerry huffs.

"The pessimism... you've been hanging with Jon too much, I'd say."

"If you happen to know where they're going-"

"They're real funny," Helen chuckles. It makes Gerry a bit dizzy, but he merely lays a hand on the wall to steady himself. "They kept saying they needed a map, like there aren't better ways to get to places."

Gerry freezes, the implications of the Distortion's words deafening in his mind.

"Helen?" he asks almost shakily. If he can reach Martin and ask Helen to get the others- "Is it a door that they needed?"

Helen merely stands there before him, her smile curling into itself and her door partly opened behind her.

Gertrude would eat him alive for being so stupid, so selfish, Gerry thinks with a bitter sort of amusement. What gives him the right to stop Martin from saving the world, just because of anything he or Jon may or may not feel?

Probably nothing, but maybe it's high time he tries being self-centered for once, he decides before he walks into the Distortion's corridors.

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

It had taken him a few blocks to place the feeling, but when he finally did Tim found it laughably easy to put a name to it.

At first it feels like a prickle at his nape, the feeling of being watched, and he ignores it because it's far from an uncommon occurrence at the Institute. It's only when he feels the urge to hasten his pace that it clicks in his mind, even when it doesn't feel quite the same as when he first caught sight of Jon ducking behind a corner on his way home.

The Hunt is insidious, playing at your most basic instincts as it chases you to where you'll be easier to strike down. Now that he's recognized it, Tim finds it all too easy to shake it off. Instead the Desolation sparks to life inside his chest, aching for a good fight, for destruction, for the delicious sorrow that lays promised by the bond between the two hunters.

It's a bit funny how they don't notice when he flips the tables, coming back through the Institute's front doors just in time to see the back of the old man disappearing into the alley behind the institute; how very Hunt-like, to underestimate the 'prey'.

They head straight for the door that leads down to the Archives, and Tim feels the burning in his chest grow hotter.

Daisy wasn't lying when she said they were opportunistic, but she failed to mention just how fatally uninformed they were. He still feels the sequels from yesterday, and Jon was trying not to hurt him. Even if they reached him, what chance do they hope to have against the Archivist on his home turf?

He waits until their steps have faded down the stairs, before pushing the door open again and slipping in himself, and he wonders if maybe in another life he wouldn't have shared a patron with them, with how fervently he tracked the Stranger, and how easily he falls into the role of the hunter now.

Jon did kill the thing that took Sasha, and he's not too fond of owing favors.

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

Dying is not so terrible, Daisy thinks. Or maybe it's Basira -as always- that makes it tolerable.

It's cold by the entrance to the tunnel, but the cot itself is warm enough that Daisy doesn't shiver -she doesn't think she has the strength for it- in Basira's arms.

She doesn't smell the scent of tears or despair, and it only hurts a little. She wasn't expecting Basira to cry, or be devastated. In fact, she was counting on it. One of the things she fell in love with was Basira's stability, always a safe port to come home to in the middle of the storm that is Daisy's rage.

She's looking down at her on her lap, lightly brushing Daisy's hair off her face. All the hair was brushed away long ago but still Basira runs her fingers softly over her cheekbones, her forehead, her closed eyelids, and it feels like drifting off to sleep on a sunny windowsill.

It's far too peaceful an end, for all the pain she's caused.

"Basira-" she starts, only to stop a second after, her eyes shooting open at the sound of running feet and hurried breathing, the cloying scent of fear like a shot of adrenaline straight into her expiring heart.

"Jon?" Basira asks, her body tensing under Daisy's in preparation for- for what? "What's going on?"

Daisy chokes back a strained laugh. Of course something else would happen now that Basira has finally run out of excuses to let her die.

"I'm- I- Daisy?" Jon's voice is shaky, and the scent of fear intensifies. It makes her want to howl that she's not only unable to assuage his distress, but that she's a part of it now. "What is- the Hunt-"

"Jon, what do you want?!" Basira snaps.

Jon flinches. "Martin, I- he left me- I don't think he's coming back." There's a tape recorder in his hand, and what makes Daisy sit up on the cot is that he looks like he sounded in the Buried, lost and trapped and all devoid of hope.

"Where's Gerry?" she asks. "He's good at finding Martin. Bringing him back."

"That's- I don't know," Jon says shakily. "I'm- I tried to See him, but- I think he's inside Helen? I don't know- he doesn't feel like he's in danger, but-"

"And can't you See Martin?" Basira arches an eyebrow. "If you can See inside the Distortion-"

"I'm- I can't usually do that." Jon huffs almost angrily. "I can sort of See inside Helen because Gerry's in there, like-"

"Like you're looking through him?" Daisy supplies, when he seems to be out of words. Much to her despair, she feels reenergized already, like the mere idea of a goal is enough to fuel the embers of the Hunt inside her. She can feel Basira's eyes on the side of her face, and she knows she's already plotting, scheming some way to keep her around longer.

"Exactly, yes." Jon nods. "And only barely enough to feel that he doesn't think he's in danger. But when I try to See Martin, it's- it's like- like two mirrors in front of each other. I know it doesn't make any sense, but-"

"Nevermind that." Basira climbs to her feet in a smooth move "We can find him."

Daisy doesn't miss the use of the plural, nor the way her glowing green eyes fix on her with that look she knows all too well. It's a look that beckons her to follow, a siren call she has little to no hope of refusing. She heaves a sigh before she stands from the cot as well, smacking Jon on the shoulder.

"Couldn't wait until I was buried to drag me out again, could you?" she asks.

Jon gives her a small, sad smile. "I'm sorry."

Daisy shrugs. She'll stick around just for a few more hours, just for them.

"Let's find those two."

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

There's a body below the institute.

This is, of course, not the first time this has happened, Martin thinks, and the thought almost feels amusing. The handle of the knife Peter placed in his hand after the whole explanation about the Panopticon feels almost vulgar in its suggestion that violence is the only way to save the world.

"I must admit, he's not at all as surprised as I expected he'd be." says a voice that Martin still hears in his nightmares from time to time. When he turns around, Elias is standing across Peter, the two of them framing the door like guardian statues. He looks immaculate, his suit clean and freshly pressed, his tie perfectly knotted at his throat. Martin arches an eyebrow, wondering if he factored in enough time for grooming when breaking out from jail, and Elias chuckles. "Speaks wonders of your job I suppose."

"A natural, I told you. Now Martin, if you'd move along please?" Peter says without taking his eyes off Elias. The smirk on his face speaks of familiarity, the kind of look you give someone that you know will be incensed by it. "I didn't count on us having an audience, but I guess I should've known."

"Can't a man watch his own death?" Elias' lips curve upwards like the edge of the blade in Martin's hand. "Also, you must admit it's much more.... poetic, this way, Peter."

"I'll concede on that." Peter turns towards Martin again. "What's keeping you?"

"This is you, isn't it?" It's not that big of a leap, the Panopticon, Jonah Magnus, and the Eye's biggest servant. Elias' widening grin is answer enough. "Will the others survive?"

"I'm surprised you care." Peter says, and Martin rolls his eyes.

"I-"

"He doesn't. But he knows he should. Again, impressive." Elias shrugs, and for all that Martin stands over his body with a knife, he couldn't look less bothered. "But in the interest of truth-"

"Oh, you care about that now?" Peter cackles in the background.

"The answer is, I'm not sure." Elias raises his voice a little. "But making an educated guess, most of the ones you used to care about should fare just fine. Tim and Melanie are well out of my reach. Your new allegiance should protect you from the worst of it, like the Hunt should miss Tonner, if she wasn't so keen on starving herself. I'm not sure about the Detective, ever the rogue variant, but thanks to our patron's little present, Jon is powerful enough that he should survive as well-"

"Don't call him that," Martin mutters quietly to himself. He doubts Elias is listening, anyways; he's much too fond of his own voice.

"-egular workers of the Institute will be affected of course, though there is no telling just how grave the damage will be. But I know you don't care about that, and you know that too, don't you Martin?"

He's... really irritating, Martin decides.

"I do." Whether he means he does care or he merely knows he doesn't, Martin isn't too sure himself.

"Always very self-aware, yes." Elias has the gall to nod like a proud mentor, and Martin rolls his eyes. "I would say then that the only variable to factor in is whether or not you want to kill me."

"I really do." And for so many reasons, too.

"Then go ahead, Martin." Peter steps forward, and Martin sees Elias watching him from the back like a snake about to strike. It's actually pretty funny, that they're both so sure they've cornered the other. "Kill him, and help me save the world."

"I don't think I will, actually." Martin shrugs, tossing the knife aside with a careless flick. The delight he feels at Peter's confused frown is muted, but it's definitely there.

"I- what?" Peter stutters. Elias' grin grows even sharper behind him. "Martin, this is not the time for games, the world is at stake here, and-"

"See, that's where you messed up. All those details that didn't add up, the insistence that I was some sort of- of world savior? Far too grand for me." Elias breaks down in cackles, and Martin covers his flinching by crossing his arms over his chest. "It really wasn't that hard to see through all the bull you were trying to serve me."

"Serve- Martin, I never lied to you. The Extinction is coming and-"

"I don't doubt it." He waves the matter away. "But this is not about the Extinction, is it? It's just whatever pases for a game between you two, using people as your betting chips, and I don't want any part in it. I'm out."

"But you said-"

"What you wanted to hear, mostly." Martin shrugs again; the feeling of perverse delight growing more and more alive in his chest. Who knew that pettiness was an emotion just as effective against the Lonely?

"You projected too hard on dear Martin, it seems," Elias says after his laughter has subsided. Peter looks fit to boil, his pale face sporting ugly red blotches as he rounds up on Elias.

"This is your doing," he says. Elias' carefully knotted tie crumples in Peter's clenched fist. "How-"

"It wasn't him." Martin interrupts again, feeling more tangible by the second out of sheer indignation. "It was me, always me. I came to you because Jon was dead and it seemed like the most useful thing I could do for the others was letting you do your thing. I thought it would even be a good way to get killed, but you lost any hold you might've had the moment Jon woke up." It's almost cathartic to let everything out after so much lying. It certainly is rewarding to watch Peter's face lose more and more color with each word. "Suddenly I had a reason again, and it was very easy to pretend I was going along with your schemes, if it meant keeping him safe. You had me for a while when you started dropping hints about the Extinction, but it was just too much, you know? I'm not exactly a- a 'chosen one', or a hero, but it was the best way to figure out what your end game was."

"But- I can feel the Lonely around you, it's-"

"Sure, it's there. Always has been, maybe. But if this is the final test, then- then I guess failed." The silence that blankets over the Panopticon after his words is so dense Martin can almost taste it. He wonders if the other two can hear the frantic beating of his heart.

"You- no." Peter shakes his head. "This- you have no idea what you've done, you've doomed-"

"I did warn you, Peter." Elias speaks, sweet and cloying like festering rot. "Now, sore loser is a terrible look on you, so get on with it."

"Get on with what?" Martin scowls, trying to ignore the shiver that bleeds down his spine when Elias' amused smile turns towards him. "I thought he couldn't use the Panopticon."

"That ship has sailed, I'm afraid." Elias shakes his head, tutting under his breath. "Really, one way or another you shouldn't have anything to fear, Martin. If your allegiance to the Lonely's strong enough, you should be able to walk right back out. If it's not... then you just have to hope Jon's allegiance to you is strong enough."

"I'm- what?" Martin frowns. Why would Elias want Jon to go get him from- oh. Oh, crap, how could he have been so stupid?! He steps back, when a tendril of fog begins to wrap itself around his ankle. "Wait, I-"

"I'll do it." Martin feels his blood freeze in his veins, when he whips around and finds Gerry standing by the entrance to the Panopticon, his hand wrapped around the knife Martin discarded just a few minutes ago.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Peter asks, his hand still extended towards Martin, but the fog momentarily at ease. Martin takes a few more steps back, trying to get his thoughts into some semblance of order because this is not good. Gerry shouldn't be here, he can handle the Lonely, but he can't leave Gerry alone with these two-

"If you want him dead so badly, I'll kill him, and use the damned thing for you." Gerry steps towards the body with knife in hand, and Martin has a split second to appreciate that Elias no longer seems so amused, even getting closer to the body himself. "Let Martin go."

"You don't have any bonds with the Lonely." Peter arches an eyebrow, but he's starting to lower his hand. Fuck, this- this isn't good.

"Does that really matter? I could hardly be more marked by the Eye. I'll use it for you, just let Martin-"

"Are you crazy?" Martin snaps, whipping around to face him again. "Get out of here, I-"

"Peter." Elias hisses in the background, and Peter grunts.

"As much as it'd please me to use the Eye's own gifts against it-" Peter starts, every word sounding like a forced pleasantry. The edges of Martin's vision blur with thick, white fog that pulls at his core almost as much as his mind reels from it. "-I am a man of my word."

"What- wait-" Gerry takes a step towards him, reaching a hand to grab at Martin's shoulder.

"Say, Gerard," Elias' voice cuts in, loud and laced with static as he steps between Gerry and his body. "Have you ever wondered how your father died?"

Gerry's face goes contorts in pain as the memories are forced in, and Martin flinches in sympathy.

"Go away!" Martin snaps, before whipping around to face Elias. "Cut it out, I'll go in-"

"The marks, Martin-" Gerry grunts. "Stay-"

"You were sleeping while she butchered his body. A spirited woman, your mother, but not the finest planner-"

Gerry shakes his head like trying to shake the foreign thoughts loose, a thin stream of ink running down his philtrum, staining his lips black.

"Like you'd fucking know- Martin? Martin, look at me!" He orders, like Martin isn't already doing so, like he isn't actively trying to give in to the pull of the Lonely -if he goes, they'll leave him alone, they have no other reason to keep him-

"She did love him, you know? Or she loved his devotion for her at least. It's quite funny, actually. Good old Eric fought so hard to break free of our patron, and he never once stopped to wonder if he wasn't running into something worse. His end was quite gruesome, even for one of Gertrude's assistants." Elias' eyes gleam with dark amusement when they meet Martin's, and the threat in them is clear. "He thought her steps sounded different that afternoon, but he was only starting to get used to getting by on his remaining senses, and she'd been so gentle and caring to him lately-"

"Stop..." Gerry snarls "I don't care, I never knew him, you can't-"

"Oh, but you could have. If he hadn't been so arrogant, if he hadn't tried to plan so much smarter than he was. You should be careful which of your parents' footsteps you want to follow, though I suppose both trails are marked in blood."

"Elias, stop!" Martin shuts his eyes tight to not see Gerry's pained expression, focusing on the cold, slimy feeling of the fog that resides within his core, but he can't- the Lonely's refusing to come to his call, and Martin wants to scream, because when Gerry warned him so many months ago that he'd ruin his plan, Martin wasn't expecting it to be by making himcare so much for him. "Peter, just- do it already!"

The man's face is veiled in satisfaction, and Martin has no doubt that he too knows Martin won't survive the Lonely like this, and the act is as much a fulfillment of the wager with Elias as it is his revenge for Martin unraveling his plans.

"Martin!" Gerry throws himself forward, and Martin feels his hand pass straight through his front.

The last hint of color he sees before the grey takes it away is that heart-wrenching mix of green and blue.

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

Martin's trail is a soft green against the dirty stone floor of the tunnels. Not as easy to follow as Daisy's, and mingled with a sickly grey one that smells of salt and absence.

"These tunnels don't make sense," she grunts after taking a left turn for the sixth time in a row.

"They change." Jon sniffles behind her, his footsteps light and hurried in contrast with Daisy's heavier, determined ones. "I feel a sort of- a pull, towards the center. I'm guessing that's where Martin is?"

Basira doesn't respond, sure, Jon could've come down here himself, but then Daisy would've given up, would've died in her arms without the interruption, without the goal.

"Do you feel Gerry?" Daisy asks. There's a light growl to her voice that wasn't there before, and it makes Basira stop a little. "Is he alright?"

"He's- I think he found Martin. It's like the two mirrors thing, whenever I try to See any of them." Jon wipes a hand across his brow, letting out a soft, sheepish chuckle. "I'm- I feel blind."

"We're being followed," Daisy says calmly, and Basira spins around on her heel. The Hunt doesn't manifest with light, there is no eerie glow to her warm brown eyes, but Basira sees her fingers curled in the shape of claws, and the stiff line of her back just as clearly, the blood simmering under her skin, not yet boiling but very much threatening to. "Are you going to come out, or will you keep hiding like rats?"

Basira's gun is on her hand in an instant, and she pulls Jon behind her, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins at the familiarity of falling into step with Daisy.

"Must admit- I'd been hopin' you'd be dead by now." She doesn't know the old man that comes from behind the corner they just turned, but she can guess who it is just by the distortion to his features, his too-wide grin full of too-sharp teeth, his eyes that reflect the light of their torches in the way no human could. "We wanted to have Jonny boy for ourselves for a bit."

"We got a few statements we'd like to give." And if that's Trevor Herbert, then this must be Julia Montauk, of course.

"You didn't dare go against Daisy and me last time," Jon pipes in from behind Basira, and she contemplates turning around and strangling him herself, because of course Jon will hear danger ask for him by name and be a smartass about it. "Now there's three of us. Doesn't sound too smart."

"But see, we're well out of your dear Archives now, Jon dear." Julia takes a step to the side that Daisy mimics, keeping herself between the groups. "And your guard dog here looks like a famished mutt. I like our chances, actually."

"Brought this on yourself, really." The old hunter cracks his neck, running a red tongue over his teeth. "We'd have let you live, you were going around stopping rituals even, but you just had to go and take that page out."

Basira feels more than she sees Jon's patience dwindling. There's static in the air sure, but there's something in her connection to the Eye that reacts to him getting ready for a fight.

"Easy, Jon," she mutters, her gun trained on the old man's forehead.

"We're wasting time. I need-"

"Go, just follow your call," says Daisy, without moving an inch from where she's facing the other woman down. Basira can See the blood rising hotter and angrier inside her, and Daisy's almost back to looking like herself, the light back in her eyes, the steel in her spine, the slightest hint of a smirk as she stares Julia down. "We'll take care of this."

Jon hesitates for a moment; Basira can see the struggle in his eyes, going from Daisy to the hunters to her-

"Just go!" Basira snaps. "You know what's going on here, go find out what's happening there!"

And well, maybe it is underhanded, to use his worry for those two against him, but if it gets him to leave...

"I'll come back," Jon says hurriedly.

Basira nods. "Or I'll find you. Go!"

He rushes down the tunnel; Basira wonders, daring a look over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of his awkward race around a corner, is this the last she sees of Jonathan Sims?

"That's cute!" Julia snarls, calling her back to attention. The faint orange glow behind her is easy to miss, but Basira recognizes it easily enough. "You're getting very high and mighty there."

"This one is not even a full avatar," Trevor gestures at Basira with a chuckle, and it feels both relieving and insulting. "You can't take the two of us alone, not in your state."

"I don't know. What was it you said a moment ago?" Tim speaks from behind them, causing the two hunters to whip around to face him. His eyes glow like two angry embers; Basira remembers this Tim not from the night before the Unknowing, but from the warehouse up North. "I like our chances."

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

The pull at his chest is not foreign to Jon, though it feels as different as day and night from the one he followed to find Gerry when the hunters came the first time.

It's something built into him from the moment he opened his eyes as the Archivist, something that ties him to the Archives, to whatever it is that lays at the middle of this labyrinth, and Jon despises it.

Still he follows it, heading to whatever fate awaits him willingly, for them.

The chamber he finds himself in is enormous, the walls made up entirely of cells with thick bars covered in rust. At the center, stands a tower made up of blackened stone, the very top domed in clouded glass, and the Beholding drops a word in his mind with all the ceremony of an artist revealing their Magnum Opus.

The Panopticon.

"So good you could join us, Jonathan." Elias's voice hits him like a hammer to the chest, and only then does Jon notice him standing at the base of the turret, his arms crossed behind his back and smiling beatifically in his direction. "Was it hard, finding the place?"

"Not- not too much." Jon steps closer carefully. He still can't See Martin or Gerry, but Elias being here -how did he get out of jail? Was he ever really trapped there?- is not a great signal.

"Because I called you." Elias nods. "I thought you might want to pick up what you lost."

Shit.

"Where are they? Elias, if you-" Jon's rather pathetic attempt at a threat is cut off by Elias' gleeful cackle.

"Calm down, Jon. Gerard's merely a bit... lost in thought. As for Martin, the door is open, if you want him back."

"What door? Elias, what did you do?" Jon snarls, pouring the compulsion thick into the question.

"I cashed in a favor. Or rather, a wager." Elias smiles. "You've grown fairly powerful, haven't you?"

"Elias-"

"You'll find Martin right where you put him." Elias' eyes gleam dangerously, his smile still sharp on his face. "In the Lonely."

"W-"

"As much as I'd enjoy a chat, I'd advise against dallying. He was in a bit of a state when he went in. Not too suited to survive in there, even after all these months." Elias takes a step aside, clearing the way to the stone stairs that curl up around the body of the tower. "Good luck, Jonathan. I'll be seeing-"

Whatever he was going to say next, Jon doesn't care to know. He rushes past him, climbing the stairs as quickly and as carefully as he can, keeping away from the edge because he wouldn't put it past himself to simply trip and snap his neck.

The interior of the turret is mostly empty, but his eyes pick up on three details immediately. The first is the dessicated body sitting at the center of the eye carved on the stone floor. He Knows who he is, and who the man outside isn't, but right at this moment, he couldn't care less.

The second thing he notices is the door to the Lonely, like a tear on dark fabric leaking out a soft silvery light and heavy wisps of fog that drift down to the floor.

Gerry's crumbled next to the body like a puppet whose strings were cut off. His arm stretched out towards the rift, and he's bleeding, a puddle of acrid-smelling ink under his head.

Jon rushes to his side, falling to his knees beside him and turning his head as carefully as he can.

"Gerr- I- can you hear me?" he asks, his heart beating so hard he's worried it'll punch a hole right through his chest. Gerry's eyes are wide and glassy and Beholding green, and his papery white lips move around words Jon cannot hear, but he's alive, and that means they have a shot still.

"I need- Gerry, I- you have to wake up now. I'm-" This is- he's so bad at this. How do you call a person back? I'm sorry but I love you, please don't go? "I need you, please."

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

"Told ya!" The old man smirks, his sharp teeth painted red with the blood flowing from his nose after Tim's headbutt. His claw-like nails sink into the flesh of Basira's neck, and the whirlpool of activity in the tunnel comes to a screeching halt. "This one is not quite done yet. Let's see if she bleeds like a monster or like a human."

If one thinks about it objectively, Tim's cockiness wasn't necessarily unjustified. He merely failed to factor in the part where he technically doesn't want to blow up the entirety of London to get rid of two hunters, or turn Daisy and Basira into a pile of ashes.

"That's enough," Daisy growls, loosening her grip around Julia's neck. The woman slashes at her face as soon as she's free, the knife leaving an angry red gash across her cheekbone and nose.

It makes something hot an angry burn at his chest, that even with all this power, he's still useless to stop this.

"How sweet." Julia shoves her off, climbing to her feet with a slight limp in her step. Tim feels a dark pang of pride at the angry red burn on the side of her face. "You're not the monsters we wanted, but it's okay, we don't discriminate. Let's see that throat, old man."

"Basira?" Daisy calls out. She's still on her knees, still watching her own blood drip down to the dirty floor of the tunnels.

"Yes?" Basira asks, then chokes a little when Trevor presses his nails a bit harder.

"Will you find me?" Daisy's starting to shake, and Tim takes a step back even as the Desolation in him beckons him forward, because the sheer amount of sorrow and rage coming from her is intoxicating.

Another wave of loss, of suffering hits him just as hard. Tim darts a glance at her, but there's nothing in Basira's face that betrays the pain simmering inside her.

"Anywhere."

Daisy's form splits open.

It's like watching a flower blossom in a timelapse video, or a moth emerge from its cocoon. The creature that comes out is long-limbed and sharp-fanged, and its fur shimmers with a faint coat of blood as it leaves behind the useless skin of Daisy Tonner. They watch it in stunned silence as it raises to its full height, its hunched back grazing against the roof of the tunnel, a cavernous growl squeezing out from between jaws where the hide is stretched too thin, pierced here and there by sharp yellowed fangs, its eyes like two pinpricks of light at the end of a cavernous tunnel fixed on the hunters before it.

"...Fuck," Julia mutters. Tim is inclined to agree.

Then the thing that was Daisy takes a step towards her, and the room explodes in activity again. Basira is shoved to the side as Trevor rushes to step between them, and it's all Tim can do to throw himself over her, as two and then three beasts slam each other against the walls of the tunnel, raining down dirt and debris that digs into Tim's waxy flesh.

It feels like hours before the howling fades away, before the tearing of flesh under claws and fangs leaves behind a silence so haunting it very nearly drowns the roar of the Desolation inside him.

"G- get off," Basira orders, pushing a hand against his chest. Tim scrambles to his feet and offers a hand that she ignores, her eyes focused on the soggy skins left behind in crumpled lumps by the beasts. "I- shit."

"Eloquent." She's looking down one of the tunnels, the one that reeks of hatred and pain, and Tim knows very well the sort of debate brewing in her mind. "Are you going after them?"

"Are you?" she snaps, whipping around to face him. Her face is carefully blank, and Tim doesn't point out the red rims of her eyes, or the pain emanating from her in waves. It doesn't take a genius to understand she's pinning her own hesitation on him. He doesn't know much about Basira, but he might understand that it's easier for her to handle weak people than to be weak herself.

Is he going after them?

He could probably find them, following the claw marks and the rage. If they make it far enough from anyone that could get caught in the crossfire-

"Why were you down here?" he asks, though he thinks he might know the answer already. Jon is many things, but he wouldn't abandon them so easily.

"Jon was still holding on to you when they found you, you know?" Sasha -no, not her, not anymore- had said, and Tim had believed her immediately, just as he believes it now.

"Martin and- they're missing. We think they're at the center of this- this mess." Basira's voice is almost frail as she continues to look down the corridor the monsters disappeared in.

"Can you find them?"

"Yes." The word comes immediately, mournful and without hesitation.

"Well- let's- let's get to it. Somehow I doubt Daisy needs us that much right now."

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

"You're making a right mess of me," he says. He's standing next to the table, watching the proceedings with something that almost feels like interest. "I thought you had more experience at this."

"I was feeling experimental." She shrugs. Her arms are covered in blood to the elbow, and her chest and face are also splattered red. "I felt like it had to be special."

"Very romantic," he says dryly. "What's going to happen to Gerry?"

"Gerard will be fine." She enunciates the name clearly and firmly. They never did settle that argument, but she pretty much just won, he guesses. "He's got the potential."

"He's two years old."

"He's my son." She saws angrily, until the bone finally breaks. "You brought this on yourself, you know?What were you thinking, pulling your eyes out?"

"I suppose I did. I thought you'd be happy that I was free." He shrugs again, before extending a translucent hand to push a lock of blood-soaked blonde hair behind her ear. It passes right through. "It's nice to see you again."

She pauses on her work, her eyes -he always did love that perfect mix of green and blue- fixed on the carnage dripping down to the kitchen floor.

"You knew how I was," she says finally. "I never hid that from you."

"You didn't."

That's not an apology. It's not an excuse. It's not enough for this man who sees himself dead on a table and asks about his son first, why do they both look so satisfied with it?!

The saw is heavy in his hand, and slippery with the blood that stinks the whole room of iron. Gerry tries to drop it, tries to step back, this is not him, up to his elbows in the blood of the one he loves-

"Gerry?" Jon's voice washes over him like cool water over a burn; Gerry thinks he might cry, when he blinks away the image of his parents and Jon is there, looking down at him in concern. "I'm- you're- how do you feel?"

"Like shit." Gerry lets out a dry cackle that's just this side of hysterical, before the gravity of the situation catches up to him, and he sits up so abruptly Jon has to throw himself back to avoid getting head-butted. "Fuck. Jon, we- Martin-"

"I know, I- Elias told me." Jon bites at his bottom lip. "I'm- it looks like we're completing the card after all."

"...Looks like it," Gerry says. It leaves a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, but there's no other way to go about it. Jon's not going to leave Martin in the Lonely, and Gerry's not going to ask him to. He climbs to his feet with a groan -he definitely bruised something- and Jon follows suit. "I'm- I don't know how well it'll go, Jon. You were able to use me as an anchor in the Dark, but I don't know if you can just- just pull Martin out. The person has to want to come back, usually."

"Let's find out." Jon takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the rift to the Lonely for a moment. He looks over his shoulder at him, and there's an odd intensity to his eyes, not the eerie power of the Archivist, but merely the one befitting a man in love. "Are you ready?"

"I- what?" Gerry blinks a couple times, before his own words come back to him from so long ago, whispered against Jon's lips with more devotion than any prayer he's ever uttered, the threat of an apocalypse looming over their heads and in his heart the firm intention of walking into the Dark for this man. "Oh."

"...I don't mean to force you to-" the little yelp Jon gives when he leans in to kiss him might just be enough to turn him immune to the Lonely, Gerry thinks.

"Let's go get your Martin back, then."

#vit writes #illicio #jongerrymartin #jgm

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 139

139

Cuba was loud. Loud and people everywhere. Lance had bugged him to call Shiro, his brother giving him a hard time for forgetting, but Matt had already called to let him know that he and Lance had a very... intimate reunion. Stupid perverted wolf. He was having a moment with his boyfriend, not some kind of scandalous tryst.

Lance didn’t talk as much as he thought he would. So Keith didn’t push it. He’d sent Shiro a proper message explaining Miriam had passed and that Lance needed a little more time before they’d be headed back to America. Matt had let Shiro know, but Keith felt like maybe that’d been Lance’s place to say. Shiro and Curtis sending their condolences. Each time Lance would point something out, Keith tried to take as many photos on his phone as he could, so Lance would have physical evidence to match his memories.

Stopping for lunch near the beach, Keith realised how screwed he would have been without Lance there to translate for him. Sure, there was English to cater to the tourists, but Lance made it look easy. Chatting away with the servers, swimming in the jumper that he was wearing. His boyfriend had already managed to get him new shoes. They weren’t shiny red converses with smiley faces on them, but they were sneakers because Lance simply rolled his eyes at the idea of boots in the heat.

Sitting across from his boyfriend in the cafe, Keith realising that Lance actually looked a little older. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but there was something there. Then again, he hadn’t seen his boyfriend’s face in the sun like this in far too long

“You’re staring”

“You’re cute”

Lance huffed at him. Keith couldn’t help how in love with Lance he was

“Can... can you maybe... not compliment me as much?”

“Nope”

His boyfriend huffed again. Did Lance think he was complimenting him to cover other feelings? Or was hating on himself so hard that he struggling to see how beautiful he was? All he had to do was look at Lance and he wanted to say nice things. The Keith from this time last year wouldn’t have believed it. He probably would have broken someone’s face had they suggested he’d be like this with anyone.

Forcing his attention to the meal, he wasn’t sure what it was. It smelt really good. Keith wasn’t sure about the beans, his diet didn’t consist of much outside green beans and baked beans. Baked beans banned because Shiro’s farts were no joke. Pointing with his fork, Lance explained what they were eating

“It’s Ropa Vieja. It’s very good. It’s mostly pulled stewed beef with veggies”

“I don’t think I’ve even heard of it”

“You missed out. Mami used to make a mean ropa. It’s like Cuba’s number one dish and she would come back and murder me if you didn’t try it at least once”

Lance was right, Keith’s eyes widened at the first taste of beef, scoffing down a second forkful. Lance seemed to find it funny enough that he laughed. An actual, proper, barking laugh where he scrunched his face up and people stared. Swallowing quickly, he got hit with the heat of the spices, Lance’s shoulders were shaking with laughter

“What’s so funny?”

“I told you it was good and you still looked like you’d come in your pants at the first bite”

“It is good... Wait, are you trying to say I make weird faces during sex?”

“You make very manly and sexy faces... but that face was gold”

Keith pulled his phone out his pocket, snapping a photo of Lance who sobered as he drew his brow realising what Keith had done. It’d make the perfect proof of life photo for Pidge

“Did you just take a photo?”

“You mocked my “oh” face”

“You have a many manly sex face. Just be careful with where you’re taking photos”

That was thing? Then again, there kind of seemed like a vague memory that maybe a thing

“I didn’t think about that. It was nice seeing you laugh, even it was at me”

He had no idea of the etiquette of Cuba, probably acting like the dumb America tourist he was

“It’s fine here. Mami and I came here a bit on the way too and from the hotel. On Wednesday’s they clear out the tables at night and they have dances”

“I bet Mami loved that”

“She did. We mostly shuffled on the spot but she said it reminded her of when Papi took her dancing. It’s weird when your mum gropes your butt”

“I bet she winked too”

“Yep. I wish I’d come back here sooner with her. I feel like I wasted time not”

“Nah, I’m sure she was happy. Oh, I better text Pidge and Hunk. Is there anything you want me to say?”

“Just tell them I miss them. I do... miss them I mean, but at this stage I’m not sure how to face them”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here. Coran kept getting pushed out the way so Pidge could talk to me. He actually looked annoyed”

“He’s got a hard enough job. He paid for all of this. I mean, I know he used funds from VOLTRON, but that hotel isn’t cheap...”

“He did it because he loves you. I’m sure there’s plenty of funding, and I’m sure there’s things you haven’t cashed in on because you didn’t want to make a fuss”

“He did try to give me my blood for free... I feel better when I’m paying. More independent and not like a teen getting money from dad”

“See. There you go. This is like really good, can you make this at home?”

“You want me to?”

“Heck yes. Don’t get me wrong, Rome is like a food lovers paradise but pasta gets sooooo repetitive”

“You better make the most of it. There’s still a lot of dishes to try”

“What about going out for dinner? With Matt and Rieva?”

Lance fumbled his fork. Keith kicking himself but the words had slipped out

“I’m... I was really rude to them”

“I doubt they care”

“I care. I ran the first time I saw them”

Keith raised an eyebrow at the thought of a pregnant Lance thinking he could leg it from two werewolves. His boyfriend had zero chance

“Babe, they missed you”

“They’ll want to talk about what happened and I’m... telling you is...”

Right. Lance was still trying to tell him what he could, how he could...

“... telling you is because she saw you as her son. Telling them, I just... it’s harder”

“We don’t have to tell them the things you’re not comfortable with. If we have dinner, we can go after... but it’ll be a good step”

“What if they can’t forgive me?”

“The only person who can’t forgive you is you. Just put it in the back of your mind”

“I’ve been thinking about it too much...”

“I’m shocked you’d over think anything ever”

“Now you’re being mean”

“You still love me. Seriously though, this is really good. Can I help you make it?”

He was going to text Pidge but his food was too appealing. Shovelling down another forkful, Lance swallowed as he watched him, seeming a little flustered. Keith wished he knew what kind of expression he was showing the man he loved

“Uh. I guess... we should eat. We’re heading back to the hotel after this. I can’t seem to make it through without my afternoon nap”

“I’ve deprived you of your morning nap, haven’t I?”

“Yeah... and my morning self wallowing”

“I’m like the worst boyfriend ever”

“Nah. You’re pretty much the best I’ve ever had”

It took Keith a long moment. His heart filled with pride at the praise until he realised he was the only boyfriend Lance ever had. Lance chuckled when the realisation hit him, Keith kicking him lightly under the table. His boyfriend was a brat.

*

When Lance went down for a nap, Keith was shooed off to let him sleep. The cafe was the perfect distance back to the hotel for Lance to have processed eating and be needing to throw it back up. The vampire had eaten enough human food to rival Matt. Keith could keep up, though he tried. Everything tasted amazing, and all he wanted to do was bask in his food coma, then Lance had kicked him out because his hand had slipped a little too low rubbing his boyfriend’s belly. It wasn’t his fault he loved feeling the swell... Lance didn’t trust him to behave. Lance declaring his arse off limits.

Throwing himself down on the sofa in the living area, he was bored already. He’d messaged chat rather than just Pidge, then avoided checking the messages he got in reply. Shay knew he was in Rome for work, and that Lance was on holiday visiting family with his grandmother. Their chat looked rather sad. Shay had expressed her condolences, which Keith accepted on Lance’s behalf. He didn’t have much to do on his own. People were tiring, the noise reaching the hotel room through Lance’s still open bedroom door. If they were going out to dinner, he really should make the effort with Matt and Rieva. Lance was sleeping and he was sure the pair would let him know if Lance needed him back.

Doing what any normal person would do, Keith climbed over to their balcony, knocking on the back door rather than going out into the hall and all the way around. Rieva opened the door with a laugh

“We were wondering how long it’d be before you came over. Couldn’t take the front door?”

“Too much like effort”

“Fair enough. Come in. Mi casa es su casa. Matt, Keith’s here!”

Their hotel room was as nice as Lance’s, decorated the same, complete with clothes everywhere. Keith ignore the thin lace thong hanging off the corner of the sofa as he stood there with his hands in his pockets

“I know Keith’s here! I heard him!”

Matt was rubbing sunscreen on as he came out of his and Rieva’s room. The werewolf having either squeezed too much out, or accidentally burst the tube. The second option seemed more likely seeing it was in his hair. Rieva laughed at her boyfriend, walking over to him. Keith thought she was going to help with the mess until she drew a dick on Matt’s chest. Matt rolling his eyes at her as he smeared sunscreen across the outline to erase it

“Anyway, what brings you over? I didn’t think you wanted to be balcony buddies”

“Leave him alone. You know he only arrived last night”

“He did? Really... Hey!”

Keith snorted as Rieva slapped her boyfriend hard enough for Matt to double over

“Ignore him. I told him we’d go to the pool and he’s been acting like a hyperactive child since”

“Who says I’m not a hyperactive child in disguise?”

Rieva smacked him again

“It would explain so much. Anyway, how is Lance? We saw you two left earlier?”

Keith shrugged, it was really awkward standing there with lingerie just laying around

“About as well as can be expected. Convinced himself that he needs to be strong for everyone else. He’s worked himself up about being rude to you”

Matt huffed, giving up on rubbing in the sunscreen in favour of wiping it on Rieva’s arm. Both werewolves had new scars. Making a face as Rieva wiped sunscreen back on him, Matt sounded as chill as expected

“Lance is “bro-dude” for life. He gets the only free passes we give”

“We really do owe him so much. Garrison is such a lovely town. My boss even let me keep my job despite everything. Now we just need to turn Matt into a respectable member of society”

“I am pretty respectable... This sunscreen is awful”

“As awful as those dead things we found on the beach?”

Matt lit up

“I forgot about those! Hang on...”

Dripping sunscreen from his hair, Matt jogged back into the bedroom. Rieva seemed to know what was happening here.. he was sure he hadn’t missed a hint

“What’s he doing?”

Why was he questioning Matt’s action. He was weird as hell every day of the damn week

“You’ll see”

What was that supposed to mean? Matt calling out

“We found these last night. We thought something had washed up dead on the beach... like a whale or something because there’s sharks and the stench. Anyway, we thought you’d find it interesting”

Coming out with his red converses, Keith could have hugged Matt

“I thought I’d lost them!”

“You would have if we hadn’t been making sure you and Lance were okay. Rieva stopped me from rolling in them...”

“They’re new!”

“They still smell like your feet! And where is the thank you?”

“Thanks guys! Lance had to pretty much organise a new pair for me... you guys are awesome!”

“You’re lucky someone didn’t steal them. Don’t go leaving them around again”

Handing his shoes over, Keith really could have kissed Matt. Finally his stalkerish ways were beneficial

“I had to stop Matt from rolling on them last night. You can take the wolf out of the country, but that doesn’t make him civilised”

“I’m just happy he didn’t chew them... Any way, I wanted to know if you two wanted to go out for dinner with me and Lance tonight? It’s nothing special, and Mami is kind of... he’s still processing. He goes from not being able to say a thing to telling me all about their trip”

“We’d love to. Do you want to come down to the pool with us?”

He’d love to... but he should get back to Lance. Lance had had long enough to fall asleep and he wanted to show him the smiley faces on his shoes...

“I better head back, but I totally owe you for saving my shoes”

“You can pick up tonight’s drink tab...”

“Not with the way you drink. That bill would be higher than both sets of sneakers...”

Matt huffed at him, crossing his arms and channeling the most “Pidge look” he could... Failing on account of the sunscreen

“Cheapskate. Fine. Go back to Lance. We won’t be hurt that you’re bailing on us”

Pidge would have been much more aggressive, with more threats of “ankle biting” or “dick punching”

“It’s only until tonight... I know he’s been... well, Lance, but I’m glad you guys came down here to be here”

Rieva seemed to have “baby fever”

“We couldn’t leave him alone. Did you see how big he’s gotten!? I can’t wait to see the twins... he looks so cute!”

“Careful, babe. Keith might stab you if you make a move on Lance”

“I missed him! Plus werewolves love pups... I can’t wait to see the nursery... you are living in Garrison, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s the plan. Shiro and Curtis are going to live in Platt...”

Matt rolled his eyes

“They should just move out to Garrison. Curtis is going to have fun with those horns of his”

Coran was going to have a proper look at Curtis when he returned. Breaking his horn had had affected his quintessence, now he had two... It was science and quintessence stuff above him

“Yeah. Anyway, thanks for this. I’ll just hop back over the balcony. See you guys later”

*

Lance was still awake when Keith came back with his shoes. Leaving them in the living area, Keith washed his hands then headed into Lance’s room, Lance raising his head to smile at him

“Have fun?”

“I thought you were sleeping”

“I heard you go...”

“I didn’t want to disturb you sleeping”

“It’s fine... they’re your friends”

Moving over to Lance’s bed, Keith pulled his shirt off before climbing under the covers in with his boyfriend. Spooning up around him, Lance rolled over onto his back, biting his lip as he did

“What’s up?”

“Nothing... just wanted to look at you”

Tucking back a stray curl behind Lance’s ear, he realised his boyfriend had a few small grey hairs. Lance had lamented the lack of grey in his hair...

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got grey hairs...”

He expected Lance to shoot up and rush to check. Instead his boyfriend nodded

“Yeah. I look a little older too... Coran pointed it out. He said it’s because so much energy is going into the pregnancy”

“Are you okay? Are the twins okay?”

“I... yeah”

Lance wasn’t telling him everything. He could tell. Gone was the Keith that didn’t pick up on social cues

“Babe, there’s something you’re holding back”

“If I tell you, you’ll hate me”

“That’s impossible. Is it to do with the bleed? Is there some kind of complication?”

“It’s... kind of Coran trying to work things out as it progresses. He said some things, that he’s only guessing... he said I might not carry to full term. That they could be born early. I mean, twins usually are. But another bleed could bad... like actually really bad. He did some genetic testing too... that was scary. A big huge needle right into the stomach...”

Keith’s heart was sinking. That didn’t sound like something people did when things were normal

“Was there something wrong?”

Lance’s hands went to his belly, his boyfriend cared more about his bump than he’d let anyone see

“It’s just a theory that I’m sick because these two are full human, with your blood type instead of mine. Despite floating around in me, feeding on my blood and nutrients and all that, they’re human. But that... could change. I mean, they really should be part vampire... it’s possible that my body could get too weak and start feeding off them... when they’re bigger... My body is kind of unique... I’ve been spending... a lot of time trying to eat as much as I can. You saw me at lunch. I’ve had pretty much no appetite since Mami passed, but I’ve been working hard for them... it’s so frustrating throwing everything back up when I’m trying so hard”

This was the kind of thing Coran should have told him... Coran had tried to talk to him alone. He’d been so desperate to get to Lance... he could have kicked himself. As it was, he didn’t know if the twins were from his weak pull out game or a dodgy condom. He’d never doubted paternity. Lance wasn’t like that... but he was pissed that Lance hadn’t told him this sooner

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because... because I’m trying so hard. I promise I am. I have fresh blood brought to me and I drink more and sleep more and I’ve been careful about not tripping or slipping...”

“Their my twins too. You have to stop taking everything on your own shoulders”

“You weren’t there! You weren’t! I know you couldn’t help it but you were gone and I had to cope the best I could!”

Lance rolled away from him, curling around his stomach as he started to cry. Keith didn’t want to not be there

“I couldn’t help it!”

“I know! I told you to go! And I hate that I did! I hated it! I wanted to go. I wanted to go find you but I couldn’t even be that courageous!”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t that fucking easy being away from you either! Matt and Rieva got hurt! People died! Lotor is now a fucking prince of a whole damn empire! We were being hunted by those loyal to Zarkon. Honerva turned her magic on Curtis! He nearly ended up dead! It was fucking shit!”

“How am I supposed to know this if you don’t tell me?!”

“I don’t know, how am I supposed to know if you run off with our twins and won’t even fucking face all the people that have been there for you!”

“Get out!”

Lance bellowing at him froze Keith. What had he done...

“Lance...”

“Get out!”

“Babe...”

Lance covered his ears, shaking his head

“No! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

“Look... look, okay. Okay. I shouldn’t have snapped, but... I can’t be there for you if I don’t know. I feel shit enough for all I missed”

“How could you think I’m not trying!? You left and everything fucking fell apart! I didn’t know if you were dead or had just run off with someone else!”

“What’s going on here?!”

Rieva and Matt rushed into the room. Rieva demanding to know. Lance was crying on the bed. Keith in tears too

“Lance, I think that’s enough. Keith never looked at anyone else. He was pathetic about missing you the whole time. If there’s something wrong with the twins, you really should have told him sooner”

Rieva growled at her boyfriend, eyes turning yellow. Matt shutting up

“Both of you need to go”

“Bu...”

“Go. You’ve upset him enough and I’m disappointed. Yes, Lance should have told Keith, but when has he had the chance? And when he does, everything turns straight into a fight. Can’t you see how much he’s hurting thinking about the twins? I’m upset that you guys would even consider him capable of hurting the twins”

Keith never said he thought Lance would... He was hurt he hadn’t been told properly. And angry again that Lance seemed so ready to give up on him... He’d never given up on Lance. Then again. He didn’t lose his mother last month and have to deal with his douche siblings

“I didn’t think he’d hurt the twins... but... I... I’m supposed to be the father. All I want is him to lean on me more. To be able to tell me these things, and not act like he’s protecting me by not telling me”

“How am I supposed to tell you I’m defective! That it’s not enough to be fucked up but I’m defective on top of it!”

“You’re not defective! There’s nothing about you that I don’t love!”

Rieva let out a level breath

“Matt, take Keith and go for a walk. I’ll stay with Lance until he calms down”

“But...”

But he was Lance’s boyfriend...

“I think you both need to cool your heads”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

[delicioussshame]

I forgot to post this here, so here you go.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t visit Mobei-Jun.

It would have been incredibly awkward anyway. Mobei-Jun came with Shang Qinghua. They must be sharing a bed? What if Shen Qingqiu showed up only to interrupt them? There has been enough walking on people without him adding on it. No, better to remain by himself. Plus, it’s not like he was the one who demanded company. That was all Luo Binghe’s idea. He can definitely wait for his husband’s return.

Without Shen Qingqiu to interrupt them, Mobei-Jun will realise he’s got more than he can handle with Shang Qinghua and not miss Shen Qingqiu one bit. He’ll find out he doesn’t need anyone else. With some luck, he will have an epiphany and propose to Shang Qinghua on the spot.

…So maybe that outcome is somewhat unlikely, but it’s a start. Shen Qingqiu will plan something better later. There’s no way he can’t outwit the writer of Proud Immortal Demon Way and his favorite creation.

____________

Having Mobei-Jun sent away sight unseen when he comes calling is a bit harder than just not meeting him, but he stands strong. It’s for his own good.

He still feels like a jerk.

____________

He finds out he should have left his servants similar instructions regarding Shang Qinghua if the way he’s angrily pacing in his room is any indication. “Bro! What are you thinking! You’re being an ass, taking it out on Mobei-Jun!”

Shen Qingqiu blinks. “I’m not taking anything on anyone.”

“Maybe that’s your problem then. Maybe you should be taking something, if you get my meaning.”

Shen Qingqiu throws his fan at Shang Qinghua’s head.

He didn’t like that one much anyway.

Shang Qinghua rubs his head, outraged. “Hey!”

“What did you expect, saying something this dumb? I’m only trying to help you out! The least you could do is being appreciative of my efforts.”

“If that’s what you’re doing, you’re going at it all wrong. Mobei-Jun has no idea why he’s in the doghouse when you’re the one that pushed him toward me, which I am still pissed at you for by the way. We’re bros! You could have gotten me in the loop! But nooo, Shen Qingqiu only gets involved when someone tells him not to. Bastard.”

“I’m not punishing him!” Not being with Shen Qingqiu is not punishment! Only Luo Binghe would think that. “I’m giving you two time to be together. How can that be construed as punishment?” He’s being thoughtful! Seriously, the nerve of some people, accusing him of dirty deeds he never intended!

Shang Qinghua sighs. “Fine. Tell him that. Maybe he’ll accept it coming from you, because all my attempts at soothing him didn’t help. He really thinks he offended you in some way, and he’s been taking it out on his people. It hasn’t been fun.”

Shen Qingqiu winces. Shang Qinghua had told him all about how Mobei-Jun could get when he was in a mood. “Sorry.” Since that’s his fault, he’s going to have to do something about it, won’t he? “I’ll go see him later today.” He needs some time to prepare himself.

Shang Qinghua glares. “Promise.”

Shen Qingqiu can’t believe him. “Seriously?”

“Yes. No worming out of this one. Mobei-Jun needs you.”

“No he doesn’t, but okay, fine, I promise I’ll go see him and have a nice little chat. I’ll bring cookies. Happy now?”

Shang Qinghua relents. “Fine.” He looks around. “Are there cookies? Cookies Bing-ge made? Can I have some?”

“No and no.”

Shang Qinghua withers. “Aww. Get me some, would you? It’s not fair you’re the only one who gets to eat my son’s food.”

Shen Qingqiu is not going to tell him he had shared a meal Luo Binghe made with Mobei-Jun a few times.

____________

It takes him less than a minute to realise that Shang Qinghua was right.

Damn it.

Because Mobei-Jun talks so little, getting to know him means getting better at reading his body language. From the way he doesn’t reach for Shen Qingqiu, from the careful distance he’s keeping between them, from the faintest line of tension going through his frame, Shen Qingqiu can tell Mobei-Jun is feeling uneasy with his presence. He doesn’t know how to react.

Shen Qingqiu sighs inwardly. This should be Shang Qinghua’s job, not his, but since his fellow transmigrator is still too skittish to dare tell his future husband the truth, Shen Qingqiu is going to have to do it for him. “I believe I should apologise. By my absence, I did not intent to make you feel like you had done something wrong.”

Mobei-Jun straightens by a fraction.

Shen Qingqiu forges on. “Mobei-Jun must understand that he and I are from very different worlds.” More than he knows, but he’s not going there. “The average human only has one spouse, with whom they will share their whole life.”

Shen Qingqiu is not the type of person that likes to have heart-to-heart, but the thing with Mobei-Jun is that, unlike Luo Binghe or Shang Qinghua, if Shen Qingqiu tells him something sappy, he’ll never hear about it again. In some ways, it’s easier to share secrets with him than anyone else. “If I were the one having to handle someone else sharing Binghe’s life, if he were to tell me he was going to marry someone else, I would be…. devastated. I would wonder what I did wrong, that I couldn’t be enough for him. Am I not attractive enough? Was I too strict with him, have I been more Shizun than Husband? Did he tire of my prudishness and pick a more adventurous lover who won’t mind him collecting a harem of beauties, one who will give the children I never will?” Wait, break, enough of that. “What I mean is I could never stand it. The idea that Shang Qinghua, who was raised in a very similar way to me, might feel the same, especially if he were to see me as his competitor, is… disagreeable. We don’t always get along, but I do not want to hurt him because of something,” he gestures between himself and Mobei-Jun, “this frivolous. Hence my recent coldness. Please do not take it personally.”

There. Shen Qingqiu has said more about how he feels tonight than he has in the last year. Shang Qinghua better be grateful.  

Shen Qingqiu sits down on a nearby chair and prepares himself to wait patiently. He does not expect Mobei-Jun to respond quickly. The man will need time to assimilate all the information and decide how to react. He can be as deliberate as Shang Qinghua is reactive. In this, maybe they balance each other out.

“Shang Qinghua never said anything about that.” The tension is back. If Shen Qingqiu is reading him right, poor Mobei-Jun is wondering how he missed something this crucial about his peak lord.

“Of course he didn’t. He, more than me, knew that his expectations were different from yours, and was willing to discard them for your sake. This is not a position I agree with. At the very least, I think this is something you should be made aware of so that you make an informed decision about your future. Until it has been discussed, I would rather keep our interactions platonic.” There. That should be good enough. In fact, no one should ever talk that much. His mouth is dry.

Mobei-Jun stands up. “I will talk to him.”

Shen Qingqiu grabs the back of his fleeting robe. “Maybe think about you will say for a little longer? I suspect the topic will come as a shock to him.”

“…What should I tell him?”

Nope. Shen Qingqiu did more than his part here. He is all burned out of romantic advice. “The truth. Just don’t be too frank. He’ll spook.”

Mobei-Jun nods slowly.

Shen Qingqiu decides to give himself a point.

____________

Shen Qingqiu wishes Luo Binghe would return earlier. Shang Qinghua has been throwing him doubtful glances, which means he knows something is up but he doesn’t know what. Shen Qingqiu would feel safer knowing his husband is by his side when whatever mess he unleashed reveals itself.

Sadly, he isn’t back when Shang Qinghua storms his room. “When Luo Binghe returns, I’m going to tell him you’re terrified of him finding out he really wants his original harem and that’s why you’re going along with his weird kinks. You’ll see how fun that is.”

Shen Qingqiu freezes on the spot.

“…Okay, no I won’t do it, you don’t have to look that scared. I get that you had good intentions when you did what you did, but you’re still an asshole for making decisions for me. And you of all people shouldn’t meddle with others’ communication issues, for fuck’s sake.”

Shen Qingqiu starts breathing again. “Since you’re not strangling me, I take it things worked out?” Please let things have worked out. Shen Qingqiu would never forgive himself if the romance he had tenderly nurtured from the shadows had dissipated because of his involvement.

“Yeah. He’s willing to give monogamy a shot. Bro, I think he might really care if I’m happy?”

Shen Qingqiu resists the urge to wipe the astonishment off Shang Qinghua’s face via violence. It’s not his fault his chosen partner is not very demonstrative when it comes to gestures of affection. “Congratulations for finding yourself a lover who cares about your well-being. That very low bar has been cleared. Anyway, I could have told you that a long time ago.”

Shang Qinghua snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious! Why do you think he even agree to Luo Binghe’s offer to share my bed in the first place?”

“Are you looking for me to tell you how hot you are? Because that’s not happening.”

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. “No. I know what I look like. I’m aware I’m not playing in the same field as our inhumanly attractive demons. That’s not why he said yes. He said yes because he wanted to know how to bed a human male properly. I wonder who that was for?”

“…No way.”

“Yes way.”

“…Seriously?”

“Seriously. You don’t have anything to fear from me. He only had eyes for you from the beginning.” There. That should give Shang Qinghua some self-confidence. He needs it.  

“Huh. Never saw that coming. Well, that’s… good to know.” He shakes his head. “Should I… Nah, it doesn’t change anything. Since you’re the one who brought it up, me and Mobei-Jun talked about you, and we decided you should keep seeing him.”

Wait, what? “Doesn’t that go against the whole monogamy thing? Is that really a good idea?”

Shang Qinghua shrugs. “It’s not the same thing, and you know it. When I said I didn’t mind you being with him, I was honest about it. There’s no way the two of you are going to elope or something equally ridiculous. In fact, I think you’re good for each other.”

Shen Qingqiu cannot even. “I know I told you we’re not in a relationship. It’s just sex. Unless you’re really bad at it, he doesn’t need me for anything.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. Look, just like Bing-ge will always be your disciple, Mobei-Jun will always be my king. Just because we’re more now won’t make this imbalance disappear. Having people in your life not trapped within those systems is not a bad thing. Anyway, you can deny it all you want, but I’m telling you you guys are friends, at least. You get him the way only two emotionally constipated people can.”

Shen Qingqiu will probably never understand how Shang Qinghua’s brain works. “Even if I were to accept your starting premise, which I do not, why couldn’t we remain platonic? Surely the sex is an optional part of the “friendship”? Why not focus on your romantic relationship and cut off everyone else from that aspect?”

Shang Qinghua sighs.

Shen Qingqiu is annoyed. If anyone should be sighing, it’s him. He’s the one having to deal with nonsensical logic.

“Just trust me on this, okay? If it fizzles out, it fizzles out, but for now, you’re both into it so I’m giving you the okay.”

Shen Qingqiu glares. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Some things don’t need to be explained. Look, it makes Mobei-Jun happy, so I’m for it. Let’s go with that.”

This is something he can understand, at least. Shen Qingqiu is known to have done some nonsensical things just because it made Luo Binghe happy. “You’re sure you’re fine with it? Because I will back down if you’re not, no other question asked.”

Shang Qinghua waves him off. “Yes. 100% sure. Go see him and work out all that anxiety you created in all of us. He’ll feel better if you show him that you’re not pissed at him anymore.”

“I’ve never been!”

“Tell him that!”

Shen Qingqiu had never signed up for any of this mess. “If you’re certain, I will.” He’s right in that it will be nice to put this whole drama behind them.

Still, as he exits the room, he can’t help thinking that leaving Shang Qinghua behind to be with his partner doesn’t feel right.

He has a flash, there and gone, of Mobei-Jun’s reaction at Luo Binghe’s implications. At this moment, it would be so easy for Shen Qingqiu to ask Shang Qinghua to just… come along.

He banishes the thought as soon as it crosses his mind. Binghe said no. It’s no.

He doesn’t look back.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #The MoShen Thing

[krispyalpacaduck]

Music Lessons With The Devil Chapter 2

Lucifer x OC fic

Rating: R, for language

A/N: I changed the character’s name while writing this. Her name is now Isra or Is for short.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

I heard someone yelling my name and looked up to see Chloe running full speed at me, nearly crashing into me when she caught up. Bending over to get her breath back, I laughed, “Good morning to you too, Chloe.”

Thrusting her phone into my face, she squealed, “10. Million. Views…Overnight! Over. Night, Is!”

I stopped, taking the phone from her hands so I could see what she was trying to show me.

It was a clip of Lucifer and I playing at Lux the night before.

“Wow…” I breathed.

“You are viral, girl!”

“Psh. I’m only viral because of him.”

“What do you mean?”

I gave her back her phone and said, “It’s on a Lucifer fan site.”

“Oh, stop it! You were incredible and you know it!” She lightly tapped my arm. “Stop being so modest.”

I handed her back her phone as we walked along the path.

“So… what do you think?”

“I hate him.”

My answer was so sudden Chloe took a step back.

“Not the answer I was expecting. You guys were so electric last night! Did you see the way he was looking at you? Did you feel the room when you played together?? Why do you hate him?”

“I can’t explain it but something about him is just so extremely off putting. I told you last night that that type of man and myself do not get along. Not to mention that attitude and ego? And what Maze said about a list to reserve a spot? Do women literally line themselves up to sleep with him? He’s the absolute worst type of man! God, I wanted to smack him 10 ways to Sunday. He’s dangerous, Chlo.”

Chlo snorted and laughed. “Lucifer? He wouldn’t hurt any-”

“I don’t mean physically. I mean that he’s the kind of man who once you’re on his radar, you don’t get away unless he chooses to let you go. Call it a hunch, but I think I’m in that man’s cross hairs. Buried deep like a tick.”

She got a playful smile on her face. “I feel a but in there.”

I sighed. “Damn you and your perceptions. But I did enjoy playing with him. I’ll think about it as long as he is clear that this is a professional relationship. I’m not about to be another one-night stand for him.”

Chloe ‘s face dropped.

“I know he’s a lot to take in and deal with. Believe me there, but Is… he’s not like the-”

“Good morning, Detective! Coffee for you!”

Lucifer’s bright and cheery face was not what I needed to see this morning. My cheeks flushed at the sound of his voice. The eyes, the way he looked at me. How close we’d been… It all came flooding back in.

“I gotta go Chloe. Class is about to start. Talk to you later.”

She squeezed my arm affectionately with a small smile and watched me walk away.

“Isra!” I heard Lucifer exclaim.

“Last night was exhilarating! You made this old Devil happier than he’s been in a very long time. I’d love to do it again!”

I turned to face him. His smile was beaming, contagious.

“I had a lot of fun too. But listen I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Actually,” Lucifer began, walking up to me. I felt his hand touch the small of my back. That electric shock was back. Fighting the urge to lean into it, I stepped to the side out of his reach.

His eyes furrowed before silent understanding dawned on his face. He brought his hand back, fisting it in embarrassment before putting it down by his side. “Right. Sorry. I wanted to talk to you about an arrangement.”

Juggling the bags on my shoulder, I said, “I’d love to, but really. I have to go. Running late for class.”

“Lucifer, she has to go.” Chloe said, grabbing him by the sleeve. “And so do we!”

Lucifer pouted at Chloe. “But -”

“She said she would talk to you later. Come on. Let’s go.”

“Yes, I guess you’re right. Crime doesn’t wait! I will see you later, Miss Isra.” He said cheerily.

I waved goodbye and turned back in a brisk walk towards the Los Angeles College of Music

.…………………………………………………………………………

Lucifer and Chloe had a case delivered to them about a murder near the Los Angeles College of Music.

“Huh….what a funny coincidence…”

“What’s that?” Chloe asked.

“Isra works at that college, right?”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Well, guess we should pay her a visit!”

Chloe stood with her arms folded across her chest, a knowing look on her face.

“The college, I mean. We should question the Dean right since it was his assistant that was murdered?” Lucifer said, cheerily.

“Lucifer, this is an active police investigation. You will leave her alone while she’s teaching.”

He looked offended. “I give you my word."

…………………………………………………………………………

“Did you hear what happened to Cindy?” My assistant said, leaning against my door frame.

“I did. That’s so awful. Who would want to do something like that?”

“I don’t know. The Dean is just sick about it.”

“They were a thing weren’t they?”

“On the DL yeah, but I think everyone knew.”

“That’s so sad. Have they announced a service yet?” I asked quietly.

“I think Friday at 3.”

She came over to me for a hug. I hugged her back as I heard her sniffle.

When she pulled back, I kept my hand on her arm. “My best friend works for the LAPD. If there’s anyone who can find who did this, it’s her.”

She nodded her head and walked out.

In the silence, I was left to my thoughts. As I sat staring at the piano, last night’s events flooded back. It was exhilarating. I’d felt like myself again for a brief moment. No worries, no fears. Just music. I’d played as an accompaniment loads of times before but… no one had ever made me feel the way he did last night… There was something about him that made me tap into a more bare, carnal side of myself that I thought I had locked away. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered his face and the way he stared at me.

Pushing back from the piano, I said, “Nah. Nope. Nada. Net. Nein. Nope nope nope!” Smacking myself a few times in the face, I said, “Pull. Yourself. Together. Pretty faces equal bad.” Mocking myself, I said, “Let’s test the Devil shall we?” Then snorted with laughter. More like test the cement that held up the wall I’d erected.

My heart physically hurt. It hurt to hide who you really were. Who you really wanted to be. I wanted to feel like that again. The way I did with him but knew I couldn’t. As much as I loved music, sometimes music betrayed me. For me, it was like a high that came with an eventual addiction that led to sudden withdrawal. The way someone made me feel when I played with them made me want to chase that high forever. That chase had left me heartbroken, and in one case, almost dead.

After that, I vowed to make it incredibly difficult for someone to love me. For someone to get close to me. It pissed me off that he was able to slide in under the radar. How easily he had slipped through the cracks of that iron wall around my heart.

Feeling my eyes burn at the corners, I angrily swiped at them. I’d felt like this before. Wanting to chase it and holding back because I knew what would happen. I thought I was past this. Thought I was stronger than this. It wasn’t fair.

‘Listen. Life isn’t fair. Life is full of shit-for-brains people. Life is full of psycho people. Life is full of people who can’t handle who you are. You’re going to get hurt. No one gets out of this life without experiencing it. You might think putting your walls up protects you but in reality you’re protecting the world from you.’

I looked up at her slowly, eyes red from crying.

‘It’s so easy to put up that wall and ball yourself up in fear, hate and regret. Don’t forget about all the good that there is in this world. Don’t build the wall up! Instead, knock that motherfucker down! Bare yourself to the world. Let them see who you are! And if a motherfucker wants to disrespect you, then you remind that motherfucker who you are. You remind yourself who you are. You are Israfel Giannone! And no one messes with you!’

The conversation with my grandmother faded from my head. I swear she was keeping tabs on me from the grave, always knowing when to pop in when I needed her the most. It made me smile thinking of that conversation. She always swore when she was angry at someone for making me doubt my self worth. It was aggressive, but hey she was Italian.

I wondered how my grandmother would’ve handled the former lover, ‘Another musician, fancy that’. I seethed inwardly, from an Italian mob family who had left me for dead. I laughed quietly to myself, imagining her 93 year old frame chasing after him with her slipper, yelling profanities. She might’ve been little, but she was fierce!

I looked up to the ceiling, clutching the locket on my chest.

“I will try, Nonna. But it’s not that easy…”

I put one of my headphones in and started to play Fly by Ludovico Einaudi, putting all of my emotions into it

.…………………………………………………………………………

I said good morning to my students as they filed in for class, greeted with the usual grunts and hollow hello’s. Most of my students took this as an elective so I doubt many of them actually cared about it. I turned around and wrote on the chalkboard the lesson for the day, waiting for them all to be seated.

When things quieted down, I read through the roster, checking off the students as they called out “Here.” or leaving a circle if there was no response. I was almost to the end when I saw a name that was new.

“Lucifer? What in God’s name-”

“Devil, actually.”

I looked up to see him smiling at me.

“Buongiorno, maestro.” He said in a deep, flirty voice with a cheeky wave.

A busty blonde next to him twirling her hair in her finger smacking chewing gum obnoxiously laughed over exaggeratedly, “O.M.G. You speak French? That’s so hot.”

I resisted the urge to walk over to my cabinet and slam my head through it. I watched Lucifer making googly eyes at her and definitely NOT being shy about checking out her chest. I couldn’t help the animalistic sound that came from my throat. Two of the things I despise most in life were sitting right in front of me: womanizers and airheads.

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to check out the sound he heard, his mouth falling open.

“Are you done?”

He booped the blonde on the nose, giving her a wolfish grin.

“Right. Sorry. Carry on.”

“Fottuto idiota.” I said. 

Lucifer sat up, offended. “Now I don’t think that’s necessary!”, with the blonde screeching, “O.M.G. You speak it too?!”

Slamming a book down onto the podium, I gritted my teeth and said, “Read the first chapter of The Musician’s Guide to Aural Skills: Ear Training.” I made sure to stare a hole straight into Lucifer’s head.

Softening my voice I said, “I will be right back.”

I heard sounds of ruffling as the students did as I asked, not sure what would happen if they didn’t. Walking back to my office, I sat down, trying to calm my anger. 

“How does Chloe deal with this?” 

Lucifer popped into the doorway, seconds later.

“Isra, I-”

In a split second, I stood up, grabbed him by his jacket, pulled him into the room and slammed the door. He stumbled into the wall next to my desk as I rounded, hands on my desk chair.

“Ti sei rincoglionito?!” 

“You are full of surprises! What was it again, French?” He had a smile on his face that I just wanted to smack right off of him.

I growled low in my throat, fisting my hands on my chair.

“Fine, I’ll play along. "Qualunque cosa intendi?” 

My voice was low and thick as I spat through gritted teeth.

“What… the fuck are you doing here?!”

..........................................................................................

A/N:  Fottuto idiota means “Fucking idiot.”

Ti sei rincoglionito means “Are you out of your mind?”

Qualunque cosa intendi means “Whatever do you mean?”

I used google translate so for the 1st and 3rd Italian phrases so it may not be 100% correct.

Tag List: (Please feel free to share! Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

@ayanna-wild @using-our-made-up-names

#lucifer x oc #lucifer #lucifer morningstar

[buckysgoldenheart]

Coffee Shop: Bucky Barnes x Reader  AU

Summary: Reader gets set up at a Coffee Shop.

Words: 4,188 (Sorry its long) 

*Bucky stuff starts at about 1,300 words, so stick it out if you want him.

Part: 1/3

Hope you guys like it. Comments are appreciated!!!!

Coffee Shop

Y/N

Most important stop of your mornings: Jason’s Coffee Shop, where your friend Jason just happened to work, not own it. The name was merely a coincidence. No, your Jason was a barista, though if any cute woman asked, he was the dedicated entrepreneur who took a risk to follow his dream and opened this quaint shop. Something about successful men who took the time to work in their business rather than leave it to his employees was a major turn on for women young college-aged and older gracefully-aged alike. And Jason had a way of appreciating every, single, lady that fell for his charming smile.

Nine a.m., not too crowded to find a seat at the coffee bar that Jason’s was known for. Being set up like an industrial bar/club with a long counter, booths instead of small tables, and retro music playing in the background drew the people in.

You smiled at the way the sun shown through the large windows and reflected off the mirror behind the counter. This was without a doubt, your favorite place in the entire city. There were very few customers this morning. Not unexpected on a Saturday at this hour, and that was just how you liked it. The only people there were a lovey-dovey couple in a back booth sharing croissants and muffins, a ridiculously attractive man sitting two seats away from your average spot, and your very best friend, Jason.

“Right on time, as always,” Your blond buddy said as he placed your steaming mug of liquid life in front of you; cream and two sugars. You slipped your puffy, yet stylish, coat off your shoulders, tucked it around a stool, and plopped down.

“You’re getting good with this timing thing. You already had this made?” You chuckled, blowing away the steam before taking a small sip. You loved the way the temperature heated the ceramic and warmed your winter-chilled fingers.

Jason smiled, drying a recently washed mug with a rag. The movements forced your eyes to his biceps. They always moved and rippled magically in a way that used to drive you crazy back when you were both in college, but you quickly grew out of your little freshman lust-crush. The next year, Jason had actually developed one for you, but like you had, came to the realization that friends was the better way to go. A relationship would never blossom from you spending some lonely nights together and would only result in a lost friendship. Not worth it in your opinion.

“I’ve only known you five years. We lived together. You only come here every single morning like clockwork. To be honest, if I still didn’t know how you prefer to fuel your caffeine addiction, then I would worry for my ability to pay attention to the important things in life.” He laughed. “And,” He paused. “If I can’t even pay attention to the details of my best friend, then how will I be able to get myself a long-term chick? She’ll think I don’t care about her. Remembering the details is what you ladies like, is it not?”

You took another sip. “It doesn’t hurt. But ‘long-term chicks’ are far from your thing.”

The man a couple seats down snickered a little as he took a bite of his pink-frosted donut. You turned your head to meet his perfectly outlined profile. Puffy lips. Masculine nose, but not too large or bumpy like some men’s; perfectly proportioned for his face. Neatly trimmed scruff along a jawline that you kind of wanted to trace with your finger. Long, dark lashes. Strong chin. Soft looking, fluffy hair. To put it simply…he was insanely attractive.

You must’ve stared a little too long, because Jason felt the need to distract you from your thoughts. “See something you like?” He whispered, his elbows perched on the counter, a smirk on his handsome face. Thankfully he was quiet enough so the stranger didn’t hear Jason’s little joke.

Your head whipped back to his and you playfully pushed him back by his shoulder. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You need a good lay.” At his words you looked down into your mug, avoiding his eyes. Suddenly, you were noticeably too silent to fool your friend. “Y/N?”

“What?” You asked with a causal, yet unconvincing, tone.

“Oh, Y/N, you didn’t. You did not call that asshole, again.”

Meeting his disappointed look, you sighed and placed your mug back on the dark cherry surface. “I was bored.”

Jason crossed his large, muscly arms. “Oh, c’mon darling, you know very well that if you are ever bored,” He stopped and untangled an arm, using the hand to brush your chin with his knuckle, “I’ll take care of you.”

You groaned and swatted his hand away from your face. “Don’t be an ass. We’ve been down that road.”

Jason laughed, loud enough for the sound to echo through the quiet shop. “Nah, I’m just kidding sweetheart. You know that. I tried to get in your pants and you turned me down. Multiple times if I recall correctly.”

“You know it was for the best.” You smiled. Your eyes sparkled from the laughter that nearly passed your lips.

“Very true. But in all seriousness, Y/N, you gotta find someone else to go to when you need to release some tension. Charles always says some dick thing to you every time after the sixty seconds he spends inside you.”

“I know.” Your fingers went to your long locks but got slightly caught in the tangles of your un-styled do.

“So, what’s with the self-punishment?”

“I don’t know. But enough about me, let’s talk about you. Bang a ‘lucky’ lady since yesterday morning?”

Jason smiled as he served a drink to a new customer before returning to you. “Ladies…”

You chucked. “So, same old?”

He nodded. “Same old.”

Silence passed between you, and Jason watched as you took the opportunity to gaze longingly at the attractive stranger. “Darling, I wanna strike a deal.”

“Hmm?” Your Y/H/C eyebrows scrunched together as once again, your attention was drawn from the man. “What kind of deal?” You asked warily.

“I’m gonna scour the land for a man for you.”

You winced at how desperate the phrase made you sound. You didn’t need a man. And you certainly didn’t need a friend setting you up. “Jason…”

Jason wagged his finger. “Nope. No ifs, ands, or buts. I’ve made up my mind. But I do need a small favor in return.”

“In return for doing something I don’t even want you to do.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. What?”

Jason leaned in close, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “Set me up with Amanda.”

That, you did not expect, but you didn’t know why. Jason slept around enough, you should know his habits by now. “Amanda Smith, or Amanda McMeyer?”

“McMeyer.”

“McMeyer???” You made a disgusted face. “Really?”

Jason shrugged his broad shoulders. “What? She’s hot.”

“She’s also a mega bitch.”

“Yea…” He drew out the word. “I don’t really care…like at all. I want that pussy and those sexy tits.”

“Fake tits.”

“Again…I don’t care. She’s sexy. And why should I care if she got a boob job? She didn’t like something about her body and she did something about it. It’s like exercising to lose weight or gain muscle. I think it’s kind of admirable.”

“Makes sense. Now you’re making it seem like a great idea. Maybe I should do it.” You sarcastically replied.

“No, Darling. You’re pretty perfect as you are. I’ve seen that body naked, remember?” You chuckled at the memory of your once roommate walking in on you just as you hopped out of the shower. “So? Get miss McMeyer to sleep with me?” He asked as you downed the rest of your coffee, stood, and reached for your coat.

“I’ll do my best, but she doesn’t really sleep around.”

“Convince her?” He asked with a puppy-dog smile.

“Do I look like I magician?”

“You don’t not look like one.”

You giggled, smiled, and blew a kiss goodbye to your friend as you headed for the door. “I’ll work on it today and report back tomorrow.”

“God Y/N, you are the best. And don’t worry, I’m gonna get you a great guy.”

You rolled your Y/E/C eyes, sarcasm on your cherry painted lips. “Yea, yea. I’ll see ya later.”

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

Jason

Through the windows, Jason watched you walk away, then he turned to the stranger you found so captivating. Jason smiled at the blue-grey-eyed man long enough that he looked up from the newspaper in front of him.

Jason’s lips curved upwards. “You’re quite the attractive man, aren’t you?”

Seemingly unphased by the barista’s words, the man scratched at his brunet eyebrow. “Uh, Thanks. Not that that’s not a very nice thing to say, but it’s awfully random. Or are you just hitting on me?”

Jason laughed and threw his head back a bit, strands of his short blond hair flinging with the movement. “I admit, I did experiment in college, but no, ended up not swingin’ that way. However,” He said, raising a slightly darker colored eyebrow than the shade of his light locks, “I couldn’t help but notice that your very pretty eyes happened to make their way to my good friend more than once this morning.” The man met Jason’s smirk, unashamed at how he had stared at the side of your face and studied every soft, but significant curve of your body when you weren’t looking. “Pretty isn’t she?”

Puffy lips turned upwards at the question. “Very.”

“How would you like to go out with her? I warn you, she’s a tough chick, and it takes her some time to open up, but she’s totally worth it. In more ways than one.”

“She didn’t seem to eager to be set up on a date.”

Jason waved his hand in a brush-off. “It makes her nervous, but like I said, she’s worth it. Besides, you’re attracted to her. And I can tell Y/N’s attracted to you.”

“Do you do this to all of your friends?”

“Only the ones who deserve it. So, what do you say? Beautiful woman. Smart, witty, creative. She even reads. Also has a bit of culture under her belt.”

“I guess I would be an idiot to say no, wouldn’t I?”

Jason smiled wide, tiny crinkles forming at the outer corners of his eyes. He knew he just accomplished his goal. “You know it.” He scribbled something down quickly on a square napkin. “Here. This is my number. If you really wanna go out with her, text me later and I’ll give you hers.” He handed off the napkin to the man, who grinned down at the numbers before folding it in half and sticking it in his back jeans pocket. “I’m Jason.” Jason extended his hand.

The blue-grey-eyed brunet gripped the hand in front of him. “I’m Bucky.”

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

Bucky

Bucky hadn’t texted you when Jason gave him your number after confirming he want to go out with you. He didn’t know why. He’d been out with a ton of girls, plenty of dates, a fair amount of hook-ups, but for some reason, you made him kind of nervous. And texting you out of nowhere seemed too impersonal. So now, Bucky sat back in the same seat he had the day before at Jason’s and waited to see you again. He heard Jason say you came to the shop every morning at nine a.m. sharp and so he made sure to get there at eight-fifty-five.

Jason glared at Bucky as he poured him a fresh cup of coffee. “Why didn’t you text her?”

“I just wanted to talk to her in person. Texting her without even speaking to her first seemed too weird.”

And yep. Nine a.m. as promised, you strolled in with a wide smile that brightened your entire face. The same cute, puffy blue jacket wrapped around you draped in your gorgeous Y/H/C hair, leggings that fit snuggly to your ass, accentuating one of the curves Bucky had become quite fond of in the short amount of time he had looked at you.

“You better make your move.” Jason whispered to him as he grabbed the coffee to greet you while you took a seat in the same stool.

“Thanks, Jace.”

Bucky received many side glances from Jason as he listened to you recount your attempts to get some girl to sleep with the barista. His eyes clearly said, ‘get a move on.’ Bucky cleared his throat, removing any scratchiness before you heard his voice for the first time. He didn’t want to scare you off by sounding like Godzilla mid-screech.

The first break in your conversation with the blond, Bucky turned to you, plastered an easy smile on his face, and said, “Hi.”

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

Y/N

Holy shit, You thought. That right there is the deep, sultry, sexy voice of a Greek God. It startled you for a minute and your eyes widened.

You met his eyes. Big mistake!

You couldn’t tell if you were smiling, though you hoped you were and that you didn’t look like a deer frozen in space ready to be squashed by an oncoming car.

Swallowing your anxiety, you parted your lips and licked away the dryness, an act that you saw did not go unnoticed by the man before you. “Um, Hi.”

Jason stepped back with a smile as he watched you both, then turned to attend to the Sunday customers.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

“It’s a free country,” You chuckled awkwardly, internally imagining slapping your palm to your forehead from stupidity.

He, too, chuckled, but took no time lessening the space between you. He stuck out a strong, firm hand and you felt yourself suck in a breath at the veins that trailed from the back of his hand, up his strong forearm and disappeared under the short sleeve of his tee.

You took it and, Oh good lord, so rough. Those fingers would feel too good inside me.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Y/N.” You matched his panty-melting smile. Now this guy, You thought, This guy I could definitely see replacing Charles.

 --------------------------------

Y/N

One Month Later

 He insisted on waiting to sleep together, wanting to get to know you first. He hadn’t even tried to kiss you yet, but now, at the end of your third date, you were ready to have him. No more waiting.

Bucky smiled down at you, a certain joyful glint in his eyes as he tucked a loose piece of your hair behind your ear then stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I had a great time.” He near whispered. “I’m really glad you agreed to go out with me…three times.” You chuckled, but you were too. Bucky was amazing. Sweet, kind, sexy as hell, funny, passionate about his dreams, an amazing listener. The list could fill a book. Bucky was worth more than just a Charles replacement. “And I am really, really glad Jason said something to me about you. I mean, really fucking glad.”

You groaned with a smile. “Oh lord, do not mention Jason. That man is driving me nuts over Amanda McMeyer. Apparently, he wants to date her now, which is beyond weird, but I guess after they slept together, he realized he actually liked her.”

“And he’s requesting your matchmaking services again?”

“You bet he is.” Though, to be honest, you didn’t really mind. Sure, he bugged you about her every time he could, but you were happy he finally wanted to be with someone for more than a night. And according to him, Amanda isn’t as bitchy as you thought. So…Bonus!

Your thoughts quickly snapped back to the concern at hand. The man you wanted so bad, that seemed to want you too, had not kissed you. He gave every indication that he wanted to, but nada. Not a single attempt, not even a half-second of those delicious looking lips on yours. “Bucky, I’m really happy we are going out too, and I don’t want to stop anytime soon, but I’m kinda concerned.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together as his thumb began to trace the curve of your bottom lip. Who the hell does that if they don’t want to devour your mouth with theirs?

“What’s wro--?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me?” You blurted out before you lost your nerve.

Bucky dropped his hand from your face and ran it through his neatly cut and styled hair. For a moment, he avoided your gaze, then took a deep breath and looked back. “Believe me, I want to. So damn bad. I want to do more than kiss you, but…”

“But?” You asked, tilting your head like a puppy.

“Don’t get mad.”

“Um, OK.”

“Jason told me you don’t really do relationships. That you aren’t quick to trust and have a tendency to turn all the men that like you or want you into fuck-buddies, if anything at all.”

Your lips formed an ‘oh,’ but nothing came out.

“I just didn’t want to be one of those guys. I like you. So much. You’re beautiful and smart. Funny. Amazing. Just…all-around great. I was drawn to you the minute I saw you, but not in the way I’ve been to other women in the past. Yes, I wanted you, still do,” He chuckled. “And I’m not saying that I wouldn’t have taken you on the counter the second we met if you let me, but only if I knew it would lead to something more.” He took another deep breath. “So, that’s why I haven’t kissed you. Because I knew if I did, then I wouldn’t be able to stop, and we would’ve fucked each other senseless the first time we went out. I wanted to prove to you that that’s not all I want from you.”

You smiled and cupped his cheek. “Well, mission accomplished.”

“Oh yea?” Bucky grinned, slipping his strong arms around the curve of your waist and pulling you even closer.

“Absolutely. I never really thought I would do this again. The whole dating thing.”

“So, why did you try it out with me? How did I get to be the lucky one?”

“I just had a feeling you were one of the good ones.”

Bucky’s smile forced an explosion in your heart. You looked down to his parted lips, your own opening slightly in preparation for his plump lips melding with yours. Slowly, his head tipped down as you stood on your toes the little bit you needed to meet him halfway. Inch by inch the space disappeared between you until nothing was left. He did not solely kiss you and you did not solely kiss him, but you kissed each other, both with equal passion and sharing the control. When you slid your tongue into his mouth, his would compliment yours perfectly. If he sucked your bottom lip, you bit his. If you moaned, he groaned. It was more than you had ever felt at one time in your entire life, and it was perfect.

Bucky pushed you back against the door, making sure to keep you away from the doorknob for the sake of your lower back. He tangled a fist in your hair and groaned again from so deep within him that it tingled over every inch of your body, lighting your nerves on fire.

You broke apart at the same time and your foreheads rested against one another. Neither of your eyes opened as Bucky muttered a quiet “Fuck” into your ear. “That was, uh…God, I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“All I know,” You said between slow breaths, “Is that kissing you was well worth the wait.” Another deep breath. “Bucky?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, his hands roaming up and down your curves. Ribs, waist, hips, ass, hips, waist, ribs. Not breaking his hands away from your body for a second.

“Come inside.”

Bucky’s head rose form it’s leaned position on yours. He flitted his eyes back and forth between your own, processing your words, and trying to figure out if you meant what he thought you did. “But—”

“Don’t you want to?”

He exhaled a silent chuckle. “Do I want to? Are you kidding? I want you so damn bad.”

“Come inside, Bucky.” You said again, opening your apartment door with one hand while the other held on to his. You tugged lightly, and when you didn’t meet resistance, you pulled him fully through the doorway, kissing him again as he kicked the door closed.

“Jump.” He mumbled against your lips and you did as you were told, trusting him to catch you and hold you to him when you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Bed?”

In between pecks, you uttered a quick, “No, here. Take me here.”

Bucky laughed into your kiss, the impact muffled by the seal of your lips. “No. Bed,” He whispered, pulling away enough to look you directly in the eyes. “We can fuck against the wall later. Hell, we can fuck on every surface in this place, but I am having you on a bed first. I want you comfortable when I make you come for me.”

You whimpered at his words then quickly slammed your lips back onto his. Bed it is.

Bucky laid you on the mattress carefully and crawled on top of you, leaving not a hairs width of space between your bodies as he ground his hard-on against your core. No one had ever turned you on so much in your life, and this simple friction was enough to drive you insane, making you softly sob with each thrust.

He straightened up on his knees, pulling you with him. Then, he told you to lift your arms up so he could slip off your top. Next your bra, and the minute the material hit the floor, Bucky’s breath hitched. His thumbs made their was to the underside of your breasts and stroked the softness of your skin. When you tugged on the hem of his shirt moments later, he removed his hands and gripped the back neck of his tee and pulled it over his head. As his arms settled back at his sides, your eyes glazed over at the sight of his muscles moving under his skin.

After tossing his shirt to the side, Bucky placed a hand between the valley of your breasts and pushed you back down on the bed. His fingers when to the waist of your pants and slowly undid the button before hooking his fingers in the belt loops and pulling the fabric down along with your underwear until you lay bare in front of him.

“Jesus,” He huffed out in between rapid breathing. He trailed his eyes over every inch of you from head to toe, but eventually landed them on your dripping pussy. He reached out his hand, extended a thumb, and slowly slipped it between your folds, sliding it up and down in even rhythms forcing you to pant and cry for him. “So pretty.”

“Bucky,” You cried as you bucked your hips with every brush of his thumb against your clit. “This isn’t fair. Let me see you.”

He grinned at your eager tone, but never let up on the torturous movement of his thumb as he undid his own jeans button with his free hand and forced the pants down just far enough to let his cock spring free from its confines.

Giant. Thick. Long. Good God. At the sight of him, you pushed his hand away from your pussy, quickly sat up and scooted close until the tip of his cock nearly brushed against your lips. You looked up to find him thoroughly licking your juices from his thumb and you took this second of his distracted state to dip your tongue out and lick lightly along the underside of the tip. You lit up as his hips involuntarily jutted forward, the first inch of him sliding into the heat of your mouth through parted lips.

Bucky braced a strong hand on your shoulder as you took him in deeper, inch by agonizing inch, swirling your tongue along every bit of skin you could and moaning to create a gentle vibration. “Oh, Fuck.” You took him in and out over and over, your tongue making devilish licks on his shaft. “Goddamn…that mouth of yours is…shit…,” He grunted. “…fucking amazing. So good, baby girl.”

Then, as if he had come to a sudden realization, Bucky’s eyes snapped open and he pulled his dick out of the comfort of your lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“Y/N, I don’t want to come in your mouth, not this time. I wanna come in that pussy.”

You gasped, grabbed the back of his neck, and met his lips in an aggressive kiss. As he crawled back on top of you, Bucky managed to kick the rest of his pants off, then settled himself between your legs. His hips spread them wide until you could feel his tip playfully nudging at your entrance. One thrust and he would be inside you.

Tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @agentsinstorybrooke @dani-si @alyssiamking @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @tessvillegas @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @stringgeek13 @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @stangirl4eva @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @youreahandsomedevil @thisismysecrethappyplace @rex-orange-baby @hiddles-rose @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf @stevesaidabadlanguageword @picapicapicassobaby

#bucky #bucky barnes #james Buchanan barnes #bucky au #bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky imagines #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction

[sprydecreates]

endgame

requested: nope

warnings: drinking, heartbreak, extreme self doubt, language

pairings: calum hood x reader

type: angst ; actual body writing (my rat brain doesn’t know what to officially call it) ; 1.9k words ; gender neutral 

summary: rejecting calum wasn’t planned, or wanted. was it for the best?

a/n: hi! i felt like breaking hearts on this good day. was looking for a header earlier, and seen lyrics from halsey’s ‘sorry’ and thought it’d be a wonderful song to write about in a sense.

also gonna try and actually write, not just a hc list this time. hope it’s good! didn’t necessarily proof read it out of fear of hating it so sorry if there are any misspellings or anything.

let me know how you feel about it!

it’d been a couple of months since you moved to california, and things were going pretty nicely. you got back into college, and were excelling. your job was sable, and rather flexible with your schedule and requests for time off. that was great, considering calum was finally back from visiting his family australia.

you had met calum while moving in, considering your apartment was in the same complex as ashton’s (where he was heading). he and ashton helped you move in, as you and a couple of friends who came along to help were struggling on the sidewalk with your hand-me-down couch.

the next day, calum came knocking at your door to see if you were settled alright. you were in the middle of unpacking dishes, and he asked if he could help you. you agreed, cause, why not have a cute australian boy help you move in? he just never left after that; even though he told ashton he’d get to his place soon.

the days have went on, and as cliche as it sounds, you both bonded and eventually had designated cups at each others houses (his is a meme mug that you bought that says “happiness is friends fishing together”, yours is a game of thrones cup with a sword as the handle), matching blankets (that were picked up on a late night target run; his says “mrs” and yours says “mr”), and swapped a pillow each, so you’d be comfortable sleeping.

things were going pretty well, to say the least. only thing that scared you, was rejection. did you like calum? yes, a little too much, but you told yourself several times that it wasn’t love. since it’s convenient to find out about him online, you decided to see if you were his type. seems as though you weren’t, from the girls he was rumored to date at least.

considering this, you called your best friend from your hometown, and explained everything going on. their only advice, was that you needed to talk to calum; they couldn’t tell if calum liked you, or was just being friendly. feeling nervous and hesitant, you invited him over for the chat.

like most of the times when you have a crush, you sat and debated on whether or not you were up for heartbreak. you had never really felt heartbreak, because no one had ever returned your interest for a significant amount of time. so, you didn’t know how to proceed. do you risk telling calum, and getting nothing in return and live your life alone? do you tell him and get a healthy relationship that you’ve convinced yourself would never be endgame?

when calum finally arrived at your apartment, you had cried all you could thinking about every way he could reject you, or how it would end. at this point, you were happy you didn’t have to go through anything that could blindside you.

after catching up, calum brought up the idea of the party, “so, me ‘nd ash were thinking about having a get together with all our friends now that we’re back. to like, catch up with everyone. you wanna come?”

“who all will be there,” you questioned, setting your cup of koolaid down.

“the guys, their girls, some friends.”

“very extensive list, thank you calum,” you joked, raising your eyebrows to signal so. it was nice, feeling comfortable after hours of terror sweats.

he let out a breathy laugh, “sorry, i really only know for certain about eight people. maybe more, maybe like one less.” he sat his fishing cup down, and looked up for your reaction.

you shrugged, thinking more about ‘their girls’ and ‘friends’ and which one you were categorized as, “when?”

he noticed your expression change, “uh, i think this friday but i’ll have to make sure.”

you nodded, “okay, i should be free.”

there was a small silence before calum cleared his throat and stood up, “well i should uh, prolly get going. supposed to meet ‘shton in a bit for dinner.”

you stood up and followed him to the door, “alright, have fun?”

calum turned when you ended your sentence with a question, and shadowed the doorway, “you good?”

you nodded again, tempting yourself to blurt out your thoughts but your fear took you over, “yeah, why?”

“you just,” he looked down at the tips of his shoes, moving them in an anxious manner, “seem, different? i don’t know, like you seem like somethings on your mind.”

“oh, nah,” there was, “just a bit tired,” a lie.

calum nodded, and stepped outside, “alright. i’ll let you know when everything will be set up, okay?”

“alright.”

“call you this evening?”

you nodded one last time and watched him disappear down the hall after your confirmation. after shutting and locking your door, you texted your friend and told her you chickened out, but were going to try and speak to him after the party.

wonderful. two more days of restless thinking, unbelievable amounts of notes written in your phone, and hours of staring into space just thinking of what could go wrong. calum calling didn’t help, either. he sounded more sweet, and soft than usual. or did he always sound like that? did he know about you maybe liking him and was trying to find ways of letting you down easily and this was step one?

ugh. the thought of it all made you sick. literally. friday came around, and you really had made yourself sick with worry. you wanted to get it over with, though. combating sickness AND heartbreak at the same time? undefeated combination. that being said, you didn’t bail. instead, you just showed up in sweats and a beat up old shirt.

no one was really dressed up, which was good for confidence measures, but horrible in the sense that you didn’t scream “i have a cold please don’t get infected”.

calum, however, thought you looked cute. like in a fanfic where you have your hair in a messy bun have on an old shirt that’s baggy but somehow shows off your figure sweats built the same way and you’re about to be sold to 5sos to pay off your parents debt. not that he said all that in one sentence, though.

throughout the evening, you noticed calum getting closer and closer to you, practically sitting on your lap after an hour. you didn’t mind all too much, but it was still strange to experience after all you’ve thought about. he seemed a bit, distant, though. he didn’t speak directly to you like he usually did, no hand on your thigh to push himself up, didn’t laugh at the same joke luke told whenever he popped a cap off of a bottle. something just didn’t, feel good.

after feeling a little dry and all too conscious, you decided to go into the kitchen and take a few shots; seeing as ashton and calum had migrated in there a couple of minutes ago. but, right when you get to the archway, you faintly hear the end of ashton’s sentence, “gonna do?”

calum’s voice came in after his, “i guess i’m just gonna have to tell y/n.”

that’s it. he knows. your heart rate shot up in mere seconds, and the tears made your eyes swell. you quickly turned and headed towards the bathroom, locking yourself in to cry a little bit. you couldn’t believe for a split second that you REALLY thought you were gonna have something. how could you be so gullible? the signs were all there. he was suiting you up to drop you from cloud nine. all the late night calls talking about life made him sick of you and he decided you weren’t the one for him. after that he noticed how much you liked him via the matching things, and it made him sick of you. he was sick of you. Sick. Of. You, and everything that you are to him.

you decided this wasn’t a reunion get together, this was a ‘goodbye y/n’ party. that’s why everyone was exceptionally inviting to you, because they knew you weren’t going to be around much longer, and they wouldn’t have to put up with you after this. if that’s the case, why not go out in style: drunk and pitiful.

you came out of the bathroom after several minutes of breathing in through your nose to stop the tears, and regain your composure. you head straight to the kitchen, nod to calum, ashton, and now sierra before pouring and downing a shot without saying a word. ashton laughs and cheers you on, as he’s never seen you do this before and thought it was a wave of encouragement. calum knows somethings wrong, but he doesn’t want to out you in front of people you aren’t entirely close with.

unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get any alone time with you until you’re five shots and two mike’s hard lemonades in. in other words, you were comprehensive, but your filter was gone and your emotions were bold. calum puts his hand on your shoulder once everyone is out of the kitchen, and asks whats wrong, “i know somethings off with you, y/n. you’ve never drank like this before.”

“not. a. thaaang,” you gave finger guns to him and ‘blew out’ the tips of your fingers.

he halfway smiled, but quickly furrowed his eyebrows and gave a stern look, “i’m serious.”

you shrugged, “me too. you think i, me, am joking?” you pushed his hand off your shoulder and turned to get another shot, but calum stopped you.

“y/n,” he said with his hand on yours, preventing you from lifting the shot glass, “we don’t have to talk about it, but are you sure you’re alright?”

you stopped. his hand was on yours, and that’s how it needed to be. you were staring at your hands, and everything was clear for a minute. you sobered up enough to say, “i heard you.”

he lowered his head, both confused and hard of hearing, “what?”

tears started to form again, “i heard you and ‘shton.”

calum let out a solemn breath and removed his hand from yours, certain this was taking a turn for the worst, “when?”

your breathing had hitched as you tried to stop yourself from crying, “a few minutes ago.” before calum could speak, you began your subtle rant, “i get it. i know i’ve been clingy, and weird, and overbearing and ugly and everything else. i know you don’t like me calum. i’ve fucking known that from day one, and i’m sorry i’ve known it.”

you continued with nonsense babbling until you realized how long you had been talking. calmly, and with tear stained cheeks, you told him goodbye, and that you wished you could be friends.

as you left the apartment and party, calum was left stood in the spot that he would later refuse to go near. he had tears of his own streaming down his face. he recalled his and ashton’s conversation from earlier:

ashton: dude, you’re getting reaaally cozy with y/n.

calum: yeah, i know.

ashton: is there, something... there?

calum: i don’t really, like know? i like y/n so fucking much. borderline love, i guess.

ashton: jesus man. what are you gonna do?

calum: i guess i’m just gonna have to tell y/n.

all this time, calum was the exact opposite of what you kept imagining. he built up the courage to talk to you about his feelings that night. because after all, he thought you were his soulmate: beautiful, smart, humble, different and the same in a puzzle piece manner. he was sure you were his endgame.

so, now what?

#calum hood #calum hood x you #calum hood x reader #calum hood imagine #calum hood one shot #calum hood fic #calum hood blurb #calum hood angst #sprydecreates ch

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

The Stranger, Part 2

FULL CHAPTER

Part 1

Dean x Reader

Summary: Reader finds a stranger wandering the road, his head and clothes bloody. He’s disorientated and doesn’t remember who he is. She takes him in and they get close until he starts having nightmares about monsters and killing people.

Then one day, a sleek black car pulls up and a tall man gets out, wearing lots of flannel and has shaggy hair. He claims that the stranger is his brother and he’s come to collect him.

Warnings: Talk of abuse, anxiety, mild violence, language, canon divergence

Word Count: 4.2K

Everything Tags: @his-paradox @sorenmarie87  @lefthologramdeer @grace-for-sale  @redm81 @becs-bunker  @docharleythegeekqueen @moonchild-shoshanna  @idontfuckingknowgurl

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Seven Days Later…

“Dean! Dinner’s up!” you called down the hallway, but he didn’t answer. Maybe he’d fallen asleep again, he had been doing that a lot lately. You could tell he was tired. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or he was putting in too many hours at the store after whatever accident he had. Either way, his sleep was broken and haunted, and even from your room upstairs, you could hear him occasionally calling for someone or something.

You knocked softly on the bedroom door and it pushed open slightly. The room was half lit by the table lamp beside the bed, and Dean’s form was laying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow. He had looked more than a little tired over the past few days. He simply said he hadn’t slept well, so you left it alone. But you were scared he was hiding something more. Maybe the pain in his head was getting bad again, or his ribs weren’t healing, or he was starting to remember who he really was.

You’d tried (and failed) to convince him to see a doctor, swearing up and down that he was fine. Even now, at half past seven in the evening, his rest was labored and broken. You noticed he was scowling in his sleep, his legs twitching and his body tense. You were about to wake him when he turned over suddenly, his arms violently flailing in front of him and muttering the words, ‘no… don’t…’ repeatedly.

“Dean?” you said just above a whisper, “Dean… wake up.”

You sat on the bed beside him and lightly shook his shoulder, igniting his gut instinct to react. He shot up from the bed, grabbed your wrist tight and twisted it roughly.

“Ow! Dean!” you screeched, causing him to really wake up and notice his surroundings.

He registered your face and immediately dropped your hand. “Y/N, I’m sorry… shit. I was having a nightmare, and—”

“Its fine, really,” you said rubbing your wrist where he grabbed you. “That must have been one hell of a nightmare.”

“Yeah,” he grunted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to rid his brain from the horrific visions he just had. He looked at you mournfully, his eyes kept going to your wrist and the guilt he felt was painted all over his face.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Dean quickly shifted his gaze from you, making you feel as if he was hiding something from you, or at least holding back. Even though it had only been a little over a week, you’d come to feel like you knew him, at least this version of Dean, and something felt off.

He sighed and looked at you apologetically. “Maybe later. Right now, I can smell dinner and I’m starving.” He pulled himself off the bed and extended you a hand to help you up. “What’s on tonight’s menu?”

“Meatloaf and potatoes.”

“Perfect,” he smiled again and extended his elbow for you to take as you exited the room together. “And what’s on the Netflix for bingin’?”

“Whatever you like,” you said, though, for the first time since he’d been there, you weren’t as enthused for your night of ‘Netflix and Chill’ with Dean as you had been in days past. Trying to shrug off the odd feeling you had, you simply smiled and headed towards the kitchen to eat.

He kept the conversation light, steering it away from his nightmares whenever you tried to bring it up. Hell-bent on changing the subject, you let him ramble on about the store, the shows you’d been watching, and whatever other small talks he threw your way.

Once dinner was done and the dishes were cleared, you found him on the couch, his head resting back against the cushion. He was sitting on the far end, and you took your place on the opposite end of the sofa. Dean’s eyes were closed, but he felt your weight shift the cushions and it made him grunt.

“You put me in a food coma,” he groaned happily, patting his stomach with both hands. “Please don’t tell me there’s dessert… unless it’s those apple things you made the other night. In that case, I’ll have two please.”

You laughed at him and shook your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Nope,” he said, as he opened his eyes and turned to look at you without taking his head off the cushion, “you’re just a really good cook.”

“Alright, enough flattery. I don’t have the apple things, but I will make more tomorrow.”

Dean did an animated fist pump and grinned.  

“What do you wanna watch?” you asked, grabbing the remote and flicking on the tv. “We could binge Game of Thrones… oh, or maybe The Walking Dead.”

“Nah, no zombies, ice ones or otherwise. How about Stranger Things? Those kids are so damn funny.”

You agreed and put the show on to where you’d left off. Sometime around when Joyce Byers was buying an insane amount of Christmas lights, you felt his eyes on you. You looked at Dean and confirmed that he was staring at you. This made you blush and feel very self-conscious.

“What? I have a booger or something?” you laughed but drew your knees up into your chest, a defensive habit you developed while growing up. Your nerves were feeling the weight of the last week, and it hit you (not for the first time) that this man was a complete stranger, and you were just letting him live with you.

You had just opened your home and business to him like you’d known him for years, not just found him bloody on the side of the road. At times you thought he was the best friend you’d ever had, and other times you chastised yourself, brutally, for taking him in like a stray dog.

Now, with the way he was looking at you, you worried if you’d made a mistake. Would he hurt you? Attack you? Beat you silly just for fun? The swirling chaos that was erupting in your head must have been written all over your face because Dean noticed you weren’t okay.

He grabbed the remote and paused the show. “Hey, you alright?”

You couldn’t answer. Somehow between the earlier situation in his room, and now with the way he was looking at you, anxiety had filled the crevices of your brain and you were certain that Dean was some lunatic hell bent on hurting you.

“Y/N?” He leaned forward and reached across the couch, holding out a hand towards you. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You could feel your hands start to tremble, your mind still racing with questions and doubt about whether you could or should trust him. “Hey, talk me. What happened? If it’s about earlier, I’m really sorry I scared you.”

“I, uh, I’m—” you started to cry, and not just a few tears. Something had been building up since the confrontation with Shane and having Dean around was adding to it. Having grown up with an abusive father figure, and a bully of a brother, men were always something you had a tough time navigating. There hadn’t been too many good ones in your life, and while you felt Dean was one of them, anxiety was now making you doubt that.

“Hey, hey… it’s alright,” he tutted, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “whatever it is, we can fix it.”

Dean pulled you into the crook of his arm and held you close. It should have made things worse; normally that’s what happened. Being that physically close to someone was usually the cause of a near instant panic attack. But not this time. Dean’s arm around you helped the trembling to stop, the endless chatter in your brain to cease, and even your tears found a way to dry up. He used his hand to push your head closer to him, leaving a kiss on the top of your hair.

“If you’re worried about Shane, he picked up his keys and he promised he’d stay away.”

“It’s not Shane, it’s you. You scare the shit out of me,” you said in a surprisingly even and calm tone.

He didn’t push you away or react adversely at all. Instead, his grip on you readjusted slightly, making you feel more comforted. You heard him sigh and looked up to try and read his expression. Dean was biting his lower lip, concern dusted across his brow.

“This has gotta be weird for you, I get that. I think about it a lot. If you want me to go, Y/N, I will. I’m better, my head is pretty much healed, my ribs don’t hurt at all. I can just go—”

“That’s just it, Dean. Despite everything, I don’t want you to go. Yet, I fear what happens if you stay. You don’t belong here. You probably have a family, or someone looking for you. For over a week now you’ve lived here, and we quickly fell into this weird domestic routine that feels completely foreign to me. I’ve lived alone for a long time, and except for my shithead brother, I don’t have anyone I talk to regularly.”

“That ain’t right, Y/N. You should be happy and have someone—” he paused and rubbed his hand over his stubbled cheek, lightly sighing. He was serious, but also sweet in the way he was looking at you. “You deserve someone that appreciates you. Someone who looks out for you and cares about you. I’d be dead if you didn’t find me. Honestly, every time I try and think about where I should be, or where that note said I had to be, all I can think is this is where… I am where I should be.”

This time when you looked up, the intensity in his gaze pierced into you, causing a swell of erotic discomfort that hadn’t been there before. Who was this guy that he could bring forth such a rush of emotions? He could make you laugh, feel safe, but also terrify you with how quickly he reacts, like he did with Shane and then earlier when you tried to wake him. He was mysterious and yet familiar, which caused an odd sense of déjà vu that couldn’t be explained. At the same time, you felt yourself wanting him more with each day that passed. These weren’t feelings you were used to having, in fact, they were elusive and very absent in your life.

The house was completely silent. You felt yourself start to slightly tremble again, but it wasn’t out of fear this time. Dean’s face was inching closer to yours, so close you could make out the army of freckles that fell over the bridge of his perfectly shaped nose. You heard him swallow nervously, just as his hand brushed against your chin to direct your face up towards him.

Before you could object, Dean’s lips pressed softly against yours. It was tentative and sweet; the passion driving it was slow to ignite, but it was there bubbling under the surface of the uncertainty it was layered with. He didn’t try and shove his tongue in your mouth or grab you and throw you down on the couch; he kept it light, opening his mouth just enough for you to feel the silky tip of his tongue against yours.

His hand brushed the hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear; then gently cradled your jawline and neck. You weren’t lost in the moment but fully immersed in it; inviting whatever anxiety still clung to you to leave. It went on for more than a minute, the hesitant, yet sensual touches of two people who just wanted to forget the outside world for a moment and find comfort in the other.

He pulled back first and pressed his forehead against yours. A ghost of a smile touched the mouth you were instantly longing for again.

“I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” his voice was raspy and dry.

“Don’t apologize Dean. I’m glad you did. I wanted you too, so much. I’m just… scared.”

“I’m not like Shane,” he said taking both your hands into his. “I would never hurt you or lay a hand on you.”

“I know, I’m sorry I thought otherwise.”

“You have plenty of reason to, Y/N. You don’t talk about it much, but I can see it. And I hate it.”

“Who the hell are you?” you whispered, almost inaudibly, but the desperation you felt to really know him coated your words. You examined his face to try and find something in it that spoke up to your question. But all you found was some kindred—but lost—spirit, swimming amidst the cut of his green eyes.

“Sweetheart, I wish I knew. But right now, I don’t hate the guy I am with you.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, right in the chest. The way he looked at you when he said it just proved that he was sincere. You didn’t know if that made it worse, or better.

“I’m just afraid to get too attached. One day, your life is going to come walking through that door, and you’ll be gone.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But neither do you. You don’t even seem to want to know where you came from.”

“Whatever is going to happen, will,” he said, completely ignoring your last comment. “We can only control right now, right? So, I say we enjoy this for whatever it is and watch the rest of this episode.” He raised his brow playfully, getting you to smile. “Besides, I gotta know what this woman is gonna do with those lights,” he chuckled, but his expression was trying to convey something else. It was as if he was pleading for you to just agree. So, you simply offered him a small smile, then nodded and curled into his side.

You wanted him to kiss you again; thought about just pulling him to you, but you didn’t. Whatever was happening was meant to be taken at a snail’s pace and not just because he was still healing, but because you didn’t want to end up having to do any healing yourself. A broken heart never set correctly, and it was one thing you didn’t need to deal with, ever again.

  After going to bed that night, you stayed awake for a long while, mulling over everything that had happened in the past week. Starting with a strange man crashing into your life, then a confrontation with Shane, and now it had just become that much more complicated with the kiss you shared.

Dean kissed you one more time, very softly, while saying goodnight. Though it didn’t last as long as the first one, somehow it was harder to walk away from. Getting involved with him was not in your plans, and maybe in the cold hard light of day, you’d come to your senses, but at this moment all you wanted to do was go back downstairs and be with him.

While you were trying to decide what you should do, there was a large crash of the metal garbage cans hitting the pavement near the garage. Assuming it was probably the raccoons again, you took it as a sign that you should go downstairs and just double check. You jumped out of bed and put your cotton robe over your PJs that consisted of a pair of boy shorts and a tank top and headed down to check out the raucous.  

Tiptoeing down the old wooden stairs, you paused outside his bedroom door and listened. It was quiet. Deciding you’d leave him to sleep, you were about to go peek out the kitchen window to check on the noise when another sound from outside caught your attention. This time you heard low voices through from the other side of the exterior wall.

You knocked lightly, but frantically, on Dean’s door. When you heard no answer, you pushed it open anyway, nearly jumped into the room and closed it quickly. The crash of the cans must have woken him, as he was sitting up in bed already. He held a finger to his mouth in a gesture for you to be quiet. Dean threw the covers off himself, pressed himself against the wall and gingerly lifted the curtain covering the window closest to his bed. He motioned for you to come closer and you obliged with no hesitation.

“I hear voices,” he whispered, carefully putting the curtain back with minimal movement.

“Me too.”

“Do you have any weapons? Gun? Machetes? Hell, fireplace poker?” he asked, still calm and cool as always.

“Um, I have a shotgun. Its upstairs in my closet. It's not loaded and its locked in a case. Honestly, I don’t even know if it is fully assembled anymore. I hate the damn thing.”

“At least you have one. C’mon,” Dean said as he grabbed your hand and headed upstairs.

You got to your room and rifled through the closet until you found the locked case. Fumbling with the keys you’d grabbed from the dresser, you opened it and handed the whole mess to Dean. “Do you know—”

Before you could even finish your thought, he was taking the pieces, assembling and loading it in record time. You watched in awe with the speed he had it locked and loaded as if it was as natural as breathing for him. For the briefest moment, the intruders were forgotten, and a bit of the earlier anxiety set it.

‘Who the fuck is this guy’ you kept thinking, yet still really didn’t fear him, just the things you’ve seen him do.

The sound of glass breaking downstairs made you jump, but Dean was by your side in a second.

“I want you to stay here,” he said firmly. “Lock this door and don’t open it unless you hear my voice, alright?”

You nodded, fear starting to consume you. Dean didn’t miss it. “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. I’ll take care of it.” He held the side of your face with his hand and locked his eyes with yours, making sure he saw that you believed him.

“You’re going to kill them? I can call the cops—”

“No, not yet. No cops,” he barked, then shook his head, as if trying to get the thought gone. “I’m not gonna kill anyone. Just stay here. Find whatever you can that would hurt someone and hold on to it.”

He tried to offer you a comforting smile, but the sound of more breaking glass set him into action and he was gone out of your bedroom door. Once you locked it behind him, you tried to regulate your breathing and not let the panic overtake you. You did consider calling the cops anyway. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do? Not that they would be much help. Your local Sheriff’s department consisted of three officers, two of which you knew from high school and wouldn’t trust them to find a lost dog. Instead, you choose to follow Dean’s caution and just wait it out.

The house was quiet again; you couldn’t hear Dean or anyone from outside. Hoping the intruders left on their own, you chanced a peak from the second story window that overlooked the garage and driveway. All you could make out were three shadows moving along the perimeter of the house and peering into the windows that weren’t already shattered.

The blast of a shotgun rang out and the three shadows took off through the backyard. One of black masses fell over one of the tipped garbage cans. They scrambled to their feet when they saw Dean exit the house by the back door. The dim back porch light gave just enough illumination for you to see him stalking across the driveway, cocking the shotgun.

The fallen intruder got to his feet and dove for cover behind the garage just as Dean fired another shot. Though the adrenaline was coursing through your body, you didn’t feel any more fear. The anxiety of it all slipped away the moment you saw Dean down below; you just knew you were safe. It also didn’t escape you that when he fired the second shot, he wasn’t really aiming near the target.

‘Just a warning,’ you thought and felt even more relief.

From downstairs, you heard the back door close. Not too long after, you could hear Dean’s footsteps coming back upstairs, then his knock on the door. “Y/N, it’s me, open the door.”

Before he could step foot all the way in, you were throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. You felt him sigh against you, placing one arm around the small of your back and hugging you tightly. When you let him go, you saw the concern he held on his brow and followed his gaze to his hand. In it, he held a brick with a paper attached.

“What is that?” you asked. A wave of nausea rising from the pit of your stomach. ‘That,’ you thought, ‘is nothing but trouble.’ “What does it say, Dean?”

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “This is what came through the window. It was on the living room floor by the couch. A second one broke one of the kitchen windows.” He held out the brick for you to take.

Examining it, you turned it over and saw the paper that had been firmly rubber banded to the brick. The note said, ‘we’re coming for you’.”

“What the hell does that mean? Who is coming for me?” your mind was racing, and all you could come back to was that it was from Shane, or some of his idiot friends trying to scare you. Even though you hadn’t heard from him since the incident in the store, you knew he was petty and underhanded; he would do anything to get what he wanted.

“Y/N, maybe it's not for you… maybe this is because of me. What you said earlier… maybe—maybe you were right. My past is catching up to me.”

You felt your knees weaken and abruptly needed to sit. Finding your way to your bed, you fell onto it and drew in a deep, shaky breath. Dean carefully rested the shotgun against the window and sat next to you on the bed.

“Good thing you don’t have close neighbors. Cops would’ve been here by now,” he tried to joke but knew you were too rattled by the message.

“Dean… what the hell do we do now?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Whoever the hell they were, they’re gone for tonight. I saw two of ‘em take off, one went ‘round the garage but I doubt he stuck around.”

“We really are quite the pair, huh? Me with a psychotic brother, you with a mysterious past and no memory. Where’s the Lifetime people when you need them?”

Dean laughed and rubbed both hands wearily over his face. “Tomorrow, we will try and figure this all out. Not much we can do now, so we should probably try to get some sleep.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Yeah, sleep. Ok. Cause that’ll happen.”

“You gotta try. You’re no good to me sleep deprived and crabby,” he teased, his eyes were tired and his features soft.

You touched his stubbled cheek, cradling his jaw with your hand as he leaned into you. “Will you stay with me? Up here? I really don’t want to be alone after that.”

He nodded softly. You got up from the bed and placed the brick on the floor in the corner. After you slipped off your robe and left it on the chair, you crawled back into bed and Dean followed suit. You both laid down, facing each other in a near mirror-image; each of you with one arm curled up under your pillow.

“You should try to sleep,” he whispered, gingerly brushing away a lock of hair that had fallen on your cheek.

“So should you.”

“You sure this is alright? Me, in your bed?”

You smiled and nodded. “Trust me, you’re right where I want you to be,” you teased, using his own words against him.

He chuckled, his tongue peeking out against his bottom lip and biting it slightly as he sleepily gazed at you. “You know, despite what just happened, I don’t hate how this day ended.”

“Me either. You make me feel safe, Dean. Regardless of which one of our train wreck lives brought this to the doorstep, it doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’re here, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Dean’s eyes drifted closed, as he wrapped his one free arm up around your shoulder. His fingers grazed against your skin, leaving you wanting to feel more of him. Even though you were more confident that he was really the man you thought he was, you still wanted to be sure; take things slow. For tonight, just falling asleep next to him would be enough; his arm around you, his breath on your cheek and secure in the knowledge that he would keep you safe from whatever threat lay waiting.

Falling asleep with him was just what you needed. Until his nightmares started again. That was something you weren’t prepared for, and Dean’s nightmares scared you far more than the intruders ever did.

Part 3 Published 8/3/18.

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[surveyyyys]

1. Do you believe in ghosts or evil spirits? Would you be willing to spend a night alone in a house that is supposedly haunted? LOL see, I don’t believe in ghosts or evil spirits even a little bit. But I’m not about to be one of those dumb white girls in the horror movies LOL I’m staying as far away from haunted houses as I possibly can 

2. Do you prefer being around men or women? Are most of your closest friends male or female? What do you think makes male friends different from female friends? I definitely prefer being around women. A lot of my friends are girls, and I feel a lot safer around girls -- I think I can understand them a lot more, and girls just have their shit together, you know? I’ve never met a man who has as much of a focus on his future as most of the women I know do. I also really hate women who put down other women by saying that they’re “bitchy” or “complicated” or anything like that... it just makes it okay for men to say those things about us. 

3. Describe the most enjoyable dream you can remember having. What made it so amazing? What about the worse nightmare you have ever had? What made it so terrible? Unfortunately I don’t remember the happiest dream I ever had LOL. Maybe it’ll come to me later. I did have a dream that I was drugged, and being raped/sexually assaulted though. That was definitely the most terrifying dream I’ve ever had. 

4. How would you react if you found out, after marrying someone, that your mate had been involved in a relationship with someone of the same sex prior to meeting you? Would this change the way you felt about that person? Why or why not?

Definitely not! As long as they’re still attracted to women (ex. they’re bi, pan, etc.) and they still love me, I wouldn’t have a problem with it at all. I mean, I would be a little uncomfortable the way anyone is when it comes to talking about their husband’s ex... but I don’t think the gender/sexuality of the ex would have any effect on it. 

5. How forgiving are you when one of your friends lets you down? Do you believe that everyone deserves a second chance? I am one of the least forgiving people, especially when someone does something to really hurt me. Honestly, I don’t even expect that much from my friends or from the people around me -- just don’t be blatantly rude, and don’t screw me over. I believe that if you can find it in you to be rude or to screw me over the first time, you can (and most likely will) definitely do it again. 

6. Do you think that advice from an older person carries a special weight because of their greater experience? Do you, as a young person, feel that your comments and advice have much effect on others? LOL I don’t think so. I’ve met plenty of older people who don’t know shit about shit. I definitely think it’s a part of my culture to respect older people because of their age/experience, but you definitely don’t have to listen to their advice. In fact, the advice that I took from older people often led me down the wrong path instead of the right one. 

7. How do you picture your funeral? Is it important for you to have people mourn your death, or would you rather them celebrate your life? What would you like said, and whom would you like to speak? How do you want to be remembered? Indian funerals are kind of structured so that people celebrate your life more than mourn your loss. It’s really loud and colorful and people’s spirits are kind of lifted even though it’s definitely still a really sad time for everyone. I don’t really like thinking about my own funeral and I don’t really see a point of thinking about it, since I’m never going to be there to see it. I don’t care how people remember me after I’m gone, actually, because it won’t have any effect on my life. I just hope that the people I care about are happy and that I’ve been a positive influence on them somehow. 

8. When you make a big sacrifice, do you tell others about it or keep it to yourself? Do you feel annoyed when your sacrifices aren’t noticed by others?

Lmao I’d like to think that I don’t ever mention it. But I’d probably talk about it a lot (not to the person I made the sacrifice for, but to someone else who I can be shitty around and not feel bad about it... most likely my sister LOL). I think it is annoying when my sacrifices aren’t noticed by others, but I’m not about to go up to that person and be like “NOTICE MY SACRIFICE” you know what I mean?

9. If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be? When you have children, is there anything you will try to do differently than your own parents did? 

Oh man. LOL. Honestly, I don’t blame my parents for raising us the way they did. They both grew up really poor and they were the youngest of huge families. So they really didn’t have any money or any resources. So when they had kids, they made sure that we could have any materialistic good we wanted, and we would never feel poor. But sometimes they would replace other kinds of support with money. Like my dad will buy me all the textbooks in the world, but he never really sat down with me and helped me with my homework. I can buy all the clothes I want, but I can’t wear shorts or tank tops in my house. My parents paid for my college tuition (which is amazing of them), but they essentially squashed my dreams of becoming a journalist and continue to try to push me into generic corporate finance roles to this day. I think when I’m a parent, I’ll give my kids more room to develop socially and a little more freedom to make their own decisions. I also won’t let any racism/homophobia get in the way of their love lives the way my parents’ racism/homophobia gets in the way of mine. 

10. Do you believe in any sort of God? If not, do you think you might still pray if you were in a life-threatening situation? 

Nope. LOL most of the time I forget that religion is a thing. Honestly, life would be a lot easier to handle if I did believe in God. 

11. If you became aware that, without a doubt, your mother was having an affair, what would you do? What if your father were to mention that he was going crazy thinking your mother was cheating? Would you tell him? 

LOL this situation is so unrealistic I don’t even know how to respond to it. My mom, no matter how little she admits it, is ridiculously devoted to my dad. She would never cheat on him. I think that if she cheated on my dad she would have a damn good reason... I don’t think I would tell him? I don’t know...

12. When was the last time you had really mind-boggling, intensely satisfying sex?

LOL. Last summer. I had just gotten out of my first relationship and I was sleeping with this guy that I met on Tinder. We had really good chemistry in bed, and I think he was the best I ever had. But also, he was one of the first people I slept with while I was single. I don’t think the sex would’ve seemed that good if I had sex with him today (after I’ve been with other guys and I’ve understood sex a little more). But because I was so new to the concept of having sex with whoever I want whenever I want, the sex seemed amazing. 

13. If you knew that your child was going to be born severely mentally handicapped and would die by the age of 5, would you have an abortion? Do you think that there is ever a situation in which aborting a child actually helps to avoid suffering? Absolutely. There is no way I’m putting myself or my child through an ordeal like that. I would not bring someone into this world if I knew that they would live a horrible and extremely short life. If I’m having a baby, they have to be a healthy baby or I’m getting an abortion and finding another way to have a child. 

14. Would you rather be very much in love with one person and have no other friends, or have a large group of supportive and loving friends, but never find your “soulmate”? Large group of supporting friends! People blow “soulmates” and relationships out of proportion all the time, but it’s really only one small piece of your life. There are so many ways to be completely whole and live a fulfilled life without romantic love. There are actually so many other forms of love too: familial love, maternal love, self-love, love of life, the love that you have for your best friends... you don’t have to be in love with someone to be happy. 

15. Is there anything that you find too personal to discuss with others? LOL a few different things. 

16. How old were you when you first had sex? Was it what you imagined it would be? Is there anything anyone could have told you that would have made it better? Do you think you would be better off if you had waited longer to have sex? 

I was 17 when I lost my virginity -- I think that was actually the perfect age. I think it was basically what I expected LOL. The first time was pretty unsuccessful, but then we tried again the next morning and it was pretty great. I don’t think I needed to know anything to make the experience any better... I was really comfortable with the person I lost my virginity to, and I knew a lot about the theory of sex from listening to my sister’s many hookup stories. 

17. Are you good at taking compliments, or do you usually shrug it off and act like you didn’t deserve the compliment? 

I think I’m good at taking compliments! I always say thank you and I try to pay a compliment back. 

18. Are you someone who enjoys sleeping snuggled up with your significant other, or do you need space when you sleep? Nah I don’t need space when I sleep. I like cuddling. 

19. Have you ever lucid dreamed? Would you like to, or does the thought of being able to control your dreams scare you? LOL I remember, back when my sister was in high school she was really interested in the concept of lucid dreaming. But whenever she would try to lucid dream, she would end up having sleep paralysis. It was a really scary experience for her, so she stopped trying to lucid dream. I think I would be more afraid of the sleep paralysis side effect rather than of actually lucid dreaming itself. I also just don’t find the experience enriching or interesting enough to put myself through sleep paralysis for it. 

20. If you were guaranteed honest responses to 3 questions, who would you question, and what would you ask? 

I think I would ask a future version of myself these 3 questions:

1. Where am I actually going to be in 10 years? (in terms of family, career, relationships, friendships, etc.)

2. Am I ever going to be happy/satisfied with who I am, and if so, when am I going to reach that level?

3. Was 2016 really the best year of my life, or is the best still yet to come? (I would not want to know when the best year of my life is going to be... I just want to know if it’s still in my future.)

#survey #deep survey

[sibillascribbles08]

Some more time echo because ???? steampunk shipping tbh

"I wish you had taken my hand... and no one ever found that teapot in the first place.”

Echo opened his eyes, the familiar surroundings of Jay’s lab greeting him. Was he back in the future? He hadn’t time jumped, but if Jay’s wish had reset the timeline it made sense that he would have been sent back.

The question was, to where? At the very least it wasn’t the dystopian future he’d left behind.

He tried to tug at the collar of his shirt only to realize it wasn’t there. Had Jay run some repairs recently?

Just as he thought about the engineer he could hear him humming. Jay came down the steps, carrying a bag from the nearby noodle shop.

It was almost strange seeing him at this age again. Humans could change so much in ten years.

But his grin was still the same, his whole face lighting up when he finally met Echo’s gaze.

“You’re awake.” He dropped the bag on his desk and headed over. “Everything working okay?”

“Yes? Did something happen?”

Jay laughed, leaning against the bed with one hand while the other ran through Echo’s hair. “A stray rock nailed you pretty hard. Who would have guessed.”

Ah, so it was back to that. The original reason he’d been knocked out before waking up to Nadakhan’s future.

“Glad it wasn’t anything I couldn’t manage.”

Echo was about to make a comment that Jay could manage anything, but that was cut off the moment Jay pulled him into a kiss.

What?

Not that it hadn’t happened before, but Echo was certain when the future changed after the events he witnessed, Jay and Nya would have sorted things out. How did it result in this?

“Echo?”

He blinked and reoriented his senses. Jay was frowning at him, eyebrow raised.

“You okay? Nothing in your system is still wacky is it?”

“Ah, no, I apologize I...”

Jay studied his face. “Did the future change again?”

Echo’s mouth fell open. “Y-you know?”

“You told me, remember? You told me all about it when you visited the past.”

“But you remember? Even though your wish reset time?”

“Only me and Nya did.” Jay shrugged. “We never really told the others. Took a lot of acting on my part to hide why I was so excited to find you after you stumbled out of that time portal. Even if you didn’t know me at the time.” Then he sighed, putting a hand on his forehead. “Time is so weird, you know. You didn’t know me, I patched you up, but... there was never a moment I actually saw you go back in time. So then... did you actually go back to help us?”

“The timeline reset.” Echo pointed out. “So while you may remember a timeline where I did, that didn’t occur in this one.”

“Ugh, nope, headache.” Jay whined. “Good to know you remember too though, now anyway.” He stared at the wall. “I’m getting a headache again.”

Echo laughed. “Don’t fret over it. It’s over now.”

Jay’s smile was brief, still gazing to the side. “Actually, now that you remember, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?”

Jay sat down on the bed, turned so he could still face him. “You should go back in time again.”

Something in Echo’s system sputtered. “What? Why? Is something else wrong?”

“No,” Jay rubbed his neck. “I just... you should go back to your own time, Echo.”

He frowned and crossed his arms. “I don’t have my own time.”

“Yes you do.” Jay glared. “You know you do.”

“When and where I go is my decision.”

“It is Echo but... you can’t honestly tell me you’re happy with this.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The future, Echo. It keeps changing. You know it does, and you have adapt to it over and over and over again. I know it bothers you. You told me it does.”

Echo flinched and looked away. “You weren’t supposed to remember that.”

“Well I did.” Jay’s grip on his face was gentle, but still enough to force him to turn his head. “And it eats me up all the time thinking that things are changing and I’m not even aware of it while you are. I hate that you keep pretending that it doesn’t bother you, that you’re fine with it. I want you to be happy too, Echo. You deserve that.”

His chest hurt, although he didn’t know why. “Jay–”

“And, you know, it’s a little selfish on my part too. Standing by and waiting ten years to see you again sucked.”

Echo let off a short laugh. “What? You were waiting?”

Jay’s gaze didn’t falter. “I love you.”

Something must have short circuited. His vision flashed. “Huh?”

He laughed. “What, did my other future selves never tell you that often enough?”

“That’s not–I thought–With the wish you used to reset I thought you and Nya...”

Jay’s hands were still on his face, tracing the lines next to his eye. “I loved her, but after what happened, after meeting you, after what you said, I thought long and hard about what we should do. In the end we both decided to stay friends. Maybe if we wanted to try a relationship again in the future, we would but... All I could think about was you.”

“I... you’re serious.”

Jay snorted and laughed while he grinned. “Jeez, now I know how you felt when I kept doubting that you liked me. Yes I’m serious.”

“But... why?”

“Why do you like me?”

“You’re amazing.”

“So are you.”

He could hear his fans turning on. Had his temperature risen that much? It wasn’t surprising. It felt like everything in his system was kicking into overdrive.

“Jay, was there anything you needed to do?”

He frowned and glanced to the side. “Nah, not really. Kind of a lazy day.”

“Good.”

Echo gripped Jay’s shirt tight enough he could hear the fabric stretch. His boyfriend squeaked but let himself be pulled into the kiss. Echo didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. His other hand slid through Jay’s hair, gently tugging on it.

Jay sighed. His hands moved from Echo’s face to his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed.

“Hey,” Jay said when he pulled back to breathe. “Just think about it, okay? Going back in time.”

Echo glanced to the side. “If I go back in time I wouldn’t have this anymore.”

“You might not in the future either. At least if you go back to your own time you can control it.”

“But what if you don’t...”

Jay chuckled, kissing Echo on the cheek. “Knowing my past self, that’s doubtful.”

“Is that why you asked me to stay?”

“I didn’t know it at the time, but yeah.”

“Fine,” Echo trailed his thumb over the freckles on Jay’s cheek. “I’ll think about it. Later.”

Jay smiled. “Fine, later.” Then he pulled him into another kiss.

#scribbly fics #ninjago #steampunk shipping #Time Echo AU #still trying to kick my writers block in the ass #life is so weird atm

[bucketogrubsarchive]

"Route" + KIMMMMMM

You wandered into a little bit rough part of the downtown area of this planet. You haven’t explored this area before. You wandered into a store that somehow had large amount of fabrics in rows and other sewing supplies. You wandered down the long winding street until you caught the eyes of a few cerulean bloods who were going to jump you. Having looked past your shoulder you made a run for it only when you run a sharp corner crashing into someone. Causing you both to fall to the ground with a hard thud. 

“  ¥Ouch! What the hell!  ¥”

Still a little dizzy yourself, you realize you had a paper bag over your head lifting it up slightly to see several groceries and now busted what appear to be vsh tape on the ground. As your eyes travel upwards to see a light grey spotted hand reaching out to you. Attached to the hand was what looked like to you a bronze blood with very long horns resembling a bunny’s covered in dark and light grey spots. 

“ ¥ Are you alright? Here let me help you up ¥” 

The cerulean gang were still coming around the corner trying to find you, threatening to beat your ass. If you stay, its likely to go after the nice girl if you don’t do something and fast.

What should you do?

Choices:

‘ Grab her hand and dragged her into your mess.’

‘ Push the bunny girl up  against a wall of a building and pretend to make out to hide.”

“Grab her and dragged her into your mess.”

There’s no time, its time for you to run now! You grabbed the troll’s hand and booket to the nearest what you could tell as a subway. The bronze nearly tripped while running with your equally short legs self. You are not sure where this train would take you. But the bronze noticed the situation almost upon you. Quickly she dragged you onto the train right when the doors closed behind you. Breathing hard as she looked around to see they were alone in the car. Then her eyes looked at you.

’ ¥ Huh, and I thought I have a weird looks…So much for a quiet night at home right? ¥”

After settling down in your seats you both talked for a while getting to know each other. Hearing even her own caste see her as something that has a strange disease when in actuality it’s harmless. As well her name was Kimaoi Midira, a underground fashion designer and clothes maker.   When you both got off the train, and leave the station. The bronze noticed there’s a karaoke building near by.

“  ¥Hey since you’re kinda stuck with me for a while, I doubt those thugs would leave you alone. Wanna come with me to critteroke? Drinks on me and it’s a decent place to hide out in until the assholes lose interest in searching for you. ¥

Though when you two enter the building, a group of teals and their dates brush past you two. Whispering loudly while the bronze gets the room and snacks ready. 

Teal having his arm around a gold blood : Holy shizs, isn’t that the bunny horn slut Nincoc pailed sweeps ago?

The second teal: I heard she went psycho on his ass and he had to throw her out of his hive after a small while they were in a red quadrant. He left her because she was pailing several other highbloods in his hive!

Teal with gold: Nah, I heard she’s really loose, Nincoc treated her like a empress only to show her true colors after they pailed a few times, thats what happens you quadrant a mutant, they’re all messed up in the think pan.

Second teal: I don’t know.. maybe if we paid her we could have some fun with her tonight.

These guys were talking not too nice things about your girl! But she seems so nice, and sweet. Who the fuck are these guys think they are smearing her name around making her sound like a bad person.  You wanted to make these bastards pay, really yell at them for talking bad about your new potential friend, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

What should you do

Choices:

You Tell Kimaoi you found a room

March up to the jackasses and give them a piece of your mind.

You Tell Kimaoi you found a room.

¥  What really? Awseome! I’ll tell the employee where our room is and we can get rocking! ¥

When she was going to your side, Kimaoi over hears the teals bullshit talk about her. She stayed quiet as she gripped your hand. Right time to make your escape to get to the room. You can’t let these assholes get to your friend and you lead Kimaoi to a random room. Pulling her into a tight hug, it’s not your place or the right time to bring up things from the past. Kimaoi pulling away for a moment cleaning away some bronze tears.

¥  Thank you, normally guys who want to hang out with me ,would start demanding questions about what those assholes had said or want to see if I am slut which I am not..Let’s just say they’re friends of my former ex matesprite…Let’s just say the ex wasn’t that nice to me. And when we broke up, his friends started to spread rumors about me. I never cheat or will do that to my quadrants…It really messed me up.. ¥

Kimaoi looks like she’s fighting back tears and her body shaking, before taking a deep breath and wiping away her tears. Giving you a warm smile.

¥  But, I’m okay! Really I am.. Now let’s get this party started! ¥

Both of you sung through out the night both good and badly to any song on shuffle. Drinking and laughing with each other.  Even at one point dancing on the room’s coffee table to the sound of what sounded like Whitney Houston? Small world you never thought 80s pop would be a thing on this planet. Winning the heart of a friend in need.

DANCING QUEENS!

GOOD ENDING.

——————————————

‘ Push the girl up  against a wall of a building and pretend to make out to hide.”

You grabbed the spotted bronze’s hand and shoved her up against the building near you both.

¥  Get off! Wha-¥”

Before she could say anything, you loom over her. Your lips barely touching hers making you both very nervous about this situation. As the group ran past you both. One of them nudged you into the girl causing you both to kiss. Wow! Your first ever kiss with an alien! Not just any alien but a  cute mutant! Will this lead to romantic shenanigans and eventually friendship at the very long sparkling rainbow.  Just like in those japanese cartoon shows you’ve seen. 

Nope, when you broke the kiss, immeadly the bronze smacked you in the face and then  knead your in the junk. You fell to the ground in pain as the bronze frowned with her arms crossed staring daggers at you.

¥ What the fuck! Just because I’m the worst combination the caverns had spit out of, doesn’t mean I’m some loose nook to be toyed with! Get lost creep!¥

The bronze turned around in a huff as she stormed off down another direction. From your lonely ass, dang it. You lost an interesting looking friendship. 

“ It worked for in movies, does not apply to real life situations, don’t be a creep.!”

Game Over!

March up to the jackasses and give them a piece of your mind.

You marched up to the teals, and started to yell at them for calling your friend a slut. Saying she isn’t going to be pailing or whatever the word is for having sex in the critteroke room rather loudly for other patrons to hear including your friend! The teals started to laugh in your face before looking over at the now clearly embarrassed Kimaoi. And started to cat call her new names in the book. What is a nook licker? When they left, Kimaoi was fully bright bronze color in the face. When you asked where the room. 

¥ Yeah..Actually…I’m going to head home..I’ve already ordered the drinks for you…Have fun okay?…And please don’t follow me…I ..I don’t feel like singing tonight.. ¥

And with that, Kimaoi stormed off out of the building. Looking furious as she disappear from sight. Leaving you to sing the motel heartbreak blues of loosing a friendship.

“ HEARTBREAK HOTEL BLUES!”

GAME OVER

#Kimaoi Midria #answeirng #Kimaoi Answers #answering memes #hiveswap friendsim #friendsim #long post #long reads

[kdreamscenario]

Lunatic: Part XV

Mythical! BTS AU

Reader X Yoongi

Word Count: 1651

Rated: G

Part XIV

The third week of April brings the end of international touring for the boys.  It’s way past Midnight after their final show in Japan.  Everyone is washing up in their hotel rooms for bed.  Jungkook is already done and waiting for his hair to dry a bit before he sleeps.  He’s tired but looks at the unanswered message you sent him three days ago and figures he better call.  

He waits patiently through three rings and worries that maybe you already went to bed.  It is late but tomorrow is your day off and usually you stay up late.  He’s thinking he should’ve sent you a warning text first but you answer.  

-Hello?

-Hey Y/N.

-Hi Kookie. What’s up?  Good concert tonight?

-Yeah really great.  

-Glad it’s over or nah?

-I’m tired and can’t wait to go home but I’m also sad it’s over.

-Mm.  Well you’ll be out there again soon enough.

-Too true. What about you doing anything fun these days?

-Nope just boring regular me.

-That’s not true.  You went out with your work friend the other night right?

-Oh yeah. I guess I did break my sitting at home streak.

-That’s good.  Sorry I didn’t get back to you.  To answer your question too late I liked the blue dress best.  

You laugh at that because your text had been a last ditch attempt at deciding an outfit.  

-Then you’ll be happy to know I wore the blue one.  

-Our friendship telepathy shines through once again.  

-Or I knew which one you’d pick.  

The both of you laugh.  You know each other’s tastes too well.

-So, how are the boys?  Everyone’s good?

-Yeah. Tired like me but good.  Yoongi’s good too in case you wanted to know.

-I didn’t ask that but thanks I guess.  Glad to know everyone’s alright.

Jungkook doesn’t have to see you to know you’re rolling your eyes.

-I mean it Y/N he’s really doing a lot better.

-I know.  That’s all you ever tell me these days.  I’m not sure why since I thought you were against me knowing about him.  

-Because he’s really a changed man these days.  Like a totally different person.  The full moon this month he didn’t even want one of the escorts and was totally normal.  

-Escorts?

-Yeah didn’t I ever tell you about them?  

-No.

-Sorry. When we go out of long trips during full moon they ship us hired escorts so the hyungs don’t make some international disaster.  

-So hookers?  

You don’t try to hide the disgust in your voice what so ever.  

-Yes like hookers but nice ones.

-Still doesn’t make it sound any better.

-No but you know they can’t help it.  Which is why you should be proud of Yoongi.  I don’t think he’s even looked at a girl in weeks.  

-Pity I was hoping he was suffering a little.

-Why? Because you’re also suffering?

-Am not!

-You don’t have to lie.  I’m sure you haven’t looked at a guy since him either.

You can’t argue with that. The line goes silent for a beat.

-Y/N, listen I understand that you’re still bitter.  In fact I’m glad you are.  I’m glad you didn’t just forgive him but I think it might be time to start.  

You stay quiet.  There’s got to be more for him to convince you.  Jungkook knows that’s what you’re waiting for.

-Yoongi really has changed with this medication.  All he ever does now is work, eat, and sleep.  He always looks exhausted and empty but sort of content in a way?  He says he’s happy with how the medication makes him but it also looks like he’s kind of killing himself slowly.  Anyway that’s not where my point was going.  I’m sure he’d at least like a little closure from your end.  You left him out on a limb saying you didn’t want to see him for a while.  Like did you mean you want to eventually see him?

You take a deep sighing breath to answer.

-Yeah eventually I’d like to talk again.  I can admit that I miss talking to him.  That’s sort of what that birthday text was supposed to fix.

On Yoongi’s birthday two weeks ago you had texted him a simple happy birthday.  It was a kind gesture you hoped would restart a bit of your talking.  He never answered.

-Right the text.  The boy gets a couple million people to say happy birthday to him and that’s really the only thing he cared about I swear.  He doesn’t know we know about it though.  I kind of caught him just staring at it on the plane that night.  

-Why do you think he hasn’t answered me then?  I mean I get it you guys are busy but I could’ve at least gotten a thank you.  

-Maybe he’s just not ready to forgive himself yet?  I don’t know.  We’ve never talked about it.

-I get that.  I’m not a hundred percent ready to forgive him either.  Also I’m a bit scared to ruin things?

-Ruin things how?  They’re already pretty bad?

-Thanks for the bright outlook.  I’m worried about rehurting ourselves.  If Yoongi is as happy as you say he is with how he’s changed then who am I to wedge myself back in.  What if something happens like the time at his house?  What if being near me sets him back again? 

This is the first time for you to voice that concern from a deep wispy thought in the back of your mind.  Jungkook is the only person you trust to not brush away your concerns.  

He takes a minute to really soak in your thought.  

-Yeah that makes sense.  You won’t know unless you try though right?  I say give it the time you both need but don’t be afraid of it either.  I know you’ll hide yourself away if you think you’re troubling him.  

-Of course because I don’t want to be a bother to him.  If he didn’t answer then obviously he’s not ready.

-Maybe if you pester him more with texts he’ll answer.  I know he misses you and eventually he’ll get over the self-wallowing.

-Or he’ll get annoyed with me and think I desperately want him back.  

-So? He desperately wants you back. I doubt he’ll see it as annoying.  

-Ugh. I think this is why you don’t have a girlfriend.

-No I’m just too smart, young, and busy to get into messy stuff like this.  Your problems are enough for me thanks.  

-You’re really no help.  Why do I even ask you?

-Who else would you ask?  You don’t have anyone else.

-Again.  You’re such a great friend.  

-That’s right.  So you’re gonna take my advice and text Yoongi right?

-Maybe one more text.  In like a week when you’re all on break.

-Fine.  I’ll take that for now.  I’ll even make sure he answers you back this time.  

-No! Kookie don’t push him into it.  If he doesn’t want to talk to me then he doesn’t have to.  He will when he’s ready.

-Or he’ll just continue to wallow and sadly wish he deserved to answer.  

-Please Kookie.

-I’ll just drop a subtle hint okay? Like we never even talked about it.  

-I don’t really trust how subtle you’re going to be but I know you’re just gonna do it anyway.

-That’s right!  So good talk Y/N glad we have a plan.  

-Thanks Kookie.  I guess.  

-Welcome.  Now, it’s late and we should both get to bed.  I’ve got a stupid early flight in...oh shit 4 hours.

-You never cease to amaze me really.  Please take some decent care of yourself for once?  For me?

-Sure thing bestie.  Maybe tomorrow night.  Goodnight Y/N.  

-Goodnight Jungkook

 The two of you go to sleep completely unaware of a third person listening in on your conversation.  Yoongi’s room is the one next to Jungkook’s.  Their beds only a thin hotel wall apart.  He didn’t mean to eavesdrop but with his sensitive hearing he couldn’t help but listen to the whole thing.

Yoongi can’t get to sleep after listening to that rollercoaster of information.  First of all, you actually want to talk to him.  You actually miss talking to him.  He’s a little selfishly pleased to know you haven’t been seeing anyone else either.  Honestly he doesn’t deserve such a smart, sweet, angel of a person.  

How could you possibly understand perfectly why he didn’t answer you.  You understand his fear of hurting you and the unknown level of control he’ll have around you.  Of course you’re scared and you should be.  Still you want to try and make things work.  Really he doesn’t deserve you.      

 True to your word you send Yoongi a message about a week later.  

-Hey, heard you’re doing well these days.  Glad to hear it.

Yoongi stares at it for almost 20 minutes.  He’s not ready yet.  By this time he’s just started to consider the surgery and wishes you could wait for an answer.  Jungkook had already heavily hinted that he should talk to you.  Either way it wouldn’t be fair to leave you waiting for months.  

-Thank you.  I really mean that for everything.  Thank you.  I understand that we should talk but I want to ask you if we can wait a bit longer.  I need one more thing to change before I’m reading to fix this.  Please wait for me.  

That couldn’t have sounded more pathetic to Yoongi but right now he needs to grovel at your holy feet.  You’re happy enough to just get a reply though you’re a bit concerned about what he wants to change.  

-I understand Yoongi.  Take your time.  Don’t do anything you’ll regret.  

The last part makes Yoongi stop and thinking over how sure he is.  Will he regret his decision?  Right now he’s not so sure.

-E.최 

#suga scenarios #suga fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts #bangtan #suga #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic