#god what a fucking tragedy would love to be able n that situation again

[treeshidingleprechauns]

.

#idk why I’m making two of these posts in a row but I really really just need someone to tell me it’s okay #I really thought something awful was going to happen yesterday one way or another #when really to calm those fears all I needed was to be held and told that it’s okay #that I’m okay #that just because my body often betrays me doesn’t mean I’m a burden or bad #that I’m safe and loved and my ability to do x y or z doesn’t change that level of love from one day to the next #I was so fucking scared yesterday #and so fucking hurt #and i was doing really well having a p okay ldov despite everything #and the past few weeks even have been good #and I’ve been smiling so much lately #everything was feeling lighter #i don’t know where I’m going with this tbh #but I want to go back to two days ago when I was smiling and feeling seen in the best way and the worst thing was I took a nap instead of #idk getting my oil changed #god what a fucking tragedy would love to be able n that situation again #I just slept for 14 hours and literally everything hurts #I can’t even think of somewhere else for me to go rn bc apparently having friends who live literally anywhere else but where you do will #eventually come back to bite you #oh you need a place to stay for a little while that has an extra bed and someone who won’t ask invasive questions??? #great Theresa a $1500 flight to NZ leaving tomorrow at 11pm good luck #*there’s a #it’s fine i’m fine everything is fine #if you’ve made it this far pls just send a little love and healing my way #I really need it 😔 #personal

[ah-ga-seven]

No More Pain | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Fem!reader 

Synopsis: The lingering wounds of your miscarriage have reopened. Now that you are broken up, an unforseen change in Jaehyun’s life has brought him back to your doorstep. Will he be able to fix you this time? Or will he fail just the same as before?

Genre: Angst, One Shot. 

Warnings: mentions of the reader having a miscarriage, depression, alcohol addiction and heartbreak.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Probably one of the heaviest angsts I’ve written. I know the subject is rough but the idea came from a dream so I just had to write it down.

This was a different kind of pang to your heart.

You’ve had your fair share of tragedies, heartbreaks and disappointments, but this…

This feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before and quite frankly, you wouldn’t wish this upon your greatest enemy.  

It was a Thursday night, one like many where you decided to stay in and recharge from a busy day at your demanding job.

You were seated on your couch with a hot cup of tea as you mindlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed. Completely wrapped in the warmth of your favorite fleece blanket. But even the thick fluffy material couldn’t protect you from the cold shivers that ran down your spine.

You blankly stare at the post your best friend forwarded to you via dm and stiffened.  

Memories of the night you miscarried 4 months into your pregnancy flood back to you as you stare at his comment.

You remembered how broken he looked when the doctor couldn’t find the baby's heartbeat anymore.  

You remembered how he held you as you cried in his arms, promising that he’d love you just the same as he tried to console you to his best ability while suffering himself.

You remembered the pain and the relief of having Jaehyun by your side through it all. Glad that even though your life was about to change forever, he’d be the one constant thing you could rely on.

You remembered all of these moments like they happened yesterday, wishing future you could mentally prepare past you for what was going to be the hardest time in your life.  

The man who swore never to leave you did just that, and not even 6 months into his new relationship, your biggest insecurity was made into a reality.  

He had moved on for good, and even though you have no ill feelings towards him, you can’t help but feel anger over sadness right now.  

It was that easy to replace you. And that easy for him to find someone that could give him what you couldn’t.

Even though your miscarriage wasn’t the direct cause of why he left, the effects of the incidence on your mental health dragged him down with you. So both of you felt it’d be better to part ways for the sake of not wanting to hate or resent each other in the end.  

But God…you hated and resented him now more than ever.  

It didn’t matter to you that both of you started to date new people, because a part of you always held on to the fact that you’d somehow find your way back to each other, though the probability of that ever happening again turned to ash.

Your miscarriage broke you.  

No appetite for weeks, no motivation to get yourself out of bed and no cure for the monsters in your head who told you that Jaehyun was only sticking around out of pity for your broken state.

That same insecurity is what drove him into the arms of the women he told you not to worry about, and now they’re having a fucking child together.  

Knowing that that should’ve been you was a thought that was just too much to bear right now. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, tears prickling your eyes as you rub the spot on your belly where the mini bump used to be 8 months ago.

You were finally doing better, thriving in your job and social life. Meeting new people and dating a few loose ends here and there, but you can already feel yourself spiraling back into old depressional habits as you stare at the picture once more.  

You pettily decide to like it, hoping it would spark interest from none other than your ex, and much to your surprise, it did.

Not even 20 minutes later your phone started to buzz on the counter as you poured yourself a glass of wine. You mindlessly retrieve it, expecting it to be your best friend but when you see his name as you take a sip you almost choke.

Is he serious?

You try to come up with what to say for the next 3 to 5 minutes but nothing in your head seems to translate your exact feelings to your fingertips.

You sigh in agony while leaning over on your kitchen counter with your phone still in your hands, reading his messages over and over again. You subconsciously start to bite your lip in deep thought, getting startled by your ringtone as your phone starts to ring in your grasp.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, taking a big chug of the alcoholic beverage in front of you, putting on the bravest face and straightest posture to make yourself feel better before accepting the call.  

You knew you didn’t have to answer, but you were dying to hear what he had to say under these circumstances.  

“Y/N? Is that you?” His voice was unchanged. You didn’t know why, but you expected him to sound different, be different. Yet the same worry he’s always had for you was evident in his tone this time as well.

You clear your throat to avoid a voice crack and sigh. “Congratulations,” you tried to sound as genuine as you could, but you knew you sounded like shit.  

You start to play with the ends of your hair out of anxious anticipation, waiting for him to respond on the other end of the line.  

“I meant to tell you,” he starts. “I just…I didn’t know how and Chaeyoung suddenly uploaded the picture and-”

“Jae…please spare me the details,” you interrupt him. Saying his name like you used to felt like speaking a foreign language. He stayed quiet upon hearing your voice again and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you still live in the same apartment in Itaewon?” he suddenly asks, immediately alerting you to stand up straight because he could only be asking for one reason and one reason only.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, I’m on my way.”

Just like that, he hung up and just like that your heart rate starts to race uncontrollably.  

You down the remnants of your wine glass and hope he’s isn’t too close because your place looked far from neat. For the next 15 minutes, you run around, shoving things into random cabinets. Whether those items belonged there or not was the least of your concern and just as you fluff the last pillow on your couch, your doorbell rings.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you walk up to your front door, taking it off the lock before you open it with a dramatic swing.

There he was. Jung Jaehyun.

As beautiful and put together as he always looked, no matter the circumstance. You forget how to breathe when you lay eyes on him and gulp. It’s actually him.

His big dark orbs widened as he laid eyes on you after months of not seeing you. His facial expression softened, slowly parting his lips to speak but you beat him to it when you broke out of your trance.  

“What are you doing here?” your shoulders fall as you look into his eyes for answers. The same eyes that once looked at you with so much love and adoration, but right now his pupils were stressfully darting back and forth, trying to read you like he used to be able to but he had no idea what you were feeling right now.

“Because I feel like shit y/n. Please let me in and let me explain,” he pleaded with a defeated tone.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What is there to explain? You knocked up your girlfriend and finally got what you wanted. Why bother coming here? To rub it into my face?”  

Your plan of staying calm and collected went completely out the window just now and you could tell by the shock on his face that he did not expect you to be angry with him.

He took a step forward, backing you into your own hallway. His height towered over you when you stepped back and without looking back he closed the door behind him.

“Y/n. I would never purposely do that to you. Ever.” You ignore his statement, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t remember inviting you in Jaehyun. Does she even know you’re here?”

You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to counter your attack, but he simply shook his head. Knowing damn well that you’re acting tough just so you won’t get emotional.  

As he’s scanning the premises, his eyes linger on the red wine bottle on your kitchen counter and with a look of utter disbelief, he averts his attention back on you.

“You’re drinking again?” he asks with an almost condescending tone.  

“Did you come here to practice your parenting skills because no thanks Jae, please leave,” you bite back as coldly as you could, but he wasn’t having it.

“That shit almost killed you and you’re just casually drinking again?” He runs his hand through his locks out of pure frustration, not knowing what to do with the misplaced feeling of still caring for you just the same, while also knowing he has no business to tell you how to live your life.

The truth is, Jaehyun had no idea what he was doing here. Everything about the situation felt wrong and he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Ever since Chaeyoung told him she was pregnant; he couldn’t be fully happy about it. He couldn’t commit to fatherhood knowing how much it broke your relationship. How much it broke the women he loved most to this day.

“A little red wine didn’t hurt anyone,” you mumble under your breath and that comment alone send Jaehyun’s emotions into overdrive, unable to hide his disappointment and worry for you any longer.

“IT HURT YOU Y/N. DAMN IT!” He raised his voice at you as he roughly grabbed your arm to make you look at him, which is the last thing you expected. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. Mad at the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most and mad at the fact that this is what your lives had come to.

You might have previously dealt with your pain by drinking, and you might have mindlessly mixed your anti-depressants with your drink once, which…just might have earned you a trip to the hospital, but that was your lowest low and you made sure it’d never happen again.

You beat your demons by yourself when he had already moved on, so he had no place to waltz back into your life when he felt like it, just to judge you.

You’re absolutely fuming by now because of that same reason and much to your dismay you feel new tears well up in your eyes.  

“NO, YOU HURT ME!” you yell back at him as you smack his chest, the salty droplets streaming down your face as you kept hitting his chest to make him feel your pain. “YOU LEFT ME.”

Your knees got weak and you knew you looked absolutely pathetic as you crouched down in front of him. Shock took over his features as he got down on his own knees just as quickly, pulling you into the comfort of his arms. The warmth that you used to call home and the warmth that always seemed to calm you down engulfed you completely, a feeling your favorite fleece blanket from before could hardly imitate.  

He patted your head with assuring strokes, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held you on the floor of your apartment. Letting you sob the pain away in his black shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay…” he kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

You calmed down slowly, ignoring the suffocating ache in your head and heart while he made you feel safe and sound like he always did. You sat there like that for God knows how long, letting your minds go into overdrive as silence comforted the both of you.  

Ironically enough, this scenery was the exact same as the one in the hospital 8 months ago. You cried in his arms just like this when you had lost your child, but now you were crying because you had lost him. For good now.  

“I would never purposely plan to have a baby this quickly y/n, you have to believe me. Chae was on birth control but it just…happened,” he whispers, finally breaking the agonizing silence.

You stay quiet, closing your eyes to the sound of his low voice, letting his words register. “I was going to tell you. I was planning to ask you out for a coffee but as soon as she passed her first trimester, she was just so excited and made the announcement…it was just bad timing.”

“All of this is bad timing,” you mumble, which made him nod in agreement. He sighed into your hair as he continued to explain. “Y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for you anymore. I wish things were different, but they simply aren’t and I’m sorry.”

You sniff, dabbing your tears and your nose with the sleeves of your blouse before looking up at him through your lashes.

“You don’t have to apologize for moving on and being happy Jaehyun. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” You wipe the single tear that remained on the corner of his eye, not having realized that he shed a few tears himself too.

He leaned into your touch as he looked into your eyes before closing them, leaning his forehead onto yours while taking a deep breath.  

“I just want you to be ok.” He says suppressing a sob. “I can’t live this picture-perfect life knowing that you’re in pain y/n. It makes no sense; you deserve so much more it’s not fair.”  

Your lip starts to quiver as his words hit you, and you build up the courage to look at him again.  

He stared at you longingly and lovingly for the first time since forever and you knew a mistake was about to be made when he inched his face closer to you, but it was too late.

His lips made contact with yours and you completely gave in. Letting him lead you into a slow yet passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away.  Before things could get more heated, you realize what was happening and froze.

You take a hold of his wrists as you pull away, your eyes staring into his equally electrified ones as you recompose yourselves.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started. “I should’ve never confused you like that. Fuck. What the fuck am I doing.” He covers his mouth as he got up. Frustrated with his own behavior, he digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands to suppress the urge to swing at your door or any other object in sight for that matter.

You get up just as quickly as well. Straightening out your clothes before shaking off the nerves of what just happened.  

You take a deep breath followed by a shaky exhale as you opened your front door, turning around on your heels to look at an equally distressed Jaehyun.

He was about to speak; about to confess that he still loved you, but you stopped him by raising your hand, motioning for him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself.

Your eyes find his own and you take one last glance at the man that was supposed to be the pillar to your family. The man you used to call yours, and the man that you had hoped to still have a future with, despite everything.  

But you knew better.

You knew what was right and you knew what you had to do before things would start to spiral out of control again.

You stepped aside so he could pass by you, trying to avoid eye contact all while you could still feel his burning stare lingering on your fragile state.

You swallow harshly, licking your lips before you spoke as clearly and steadily as you could.

“For the sake of your family, please leave Jae…and never come back.”  

#jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun imagine #jung jaehyun imagine #jung jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun angst #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #nct smut #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #jaehyun fanfic #kpop fanfic

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt.4

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: future smut, language, reader being followed at night, not much, Chan’s sexy ass arms?

A/N: the big day!! also there’s a little scene for binnie’s birthday (even though it was yesterday)

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

© jeonqqin 2020

—UNEDITED

Your mind was running circles around you, everything a blur.

Talking on the phone with Chan lifted your mood exponentially, but there was still something that ticked in the back of your head. With the way your conversation with Chan ended, you weren’t sure if you should’ve been jumping for joy or hiding away under your covers in hopes that no one would ever find you again.

“So, I was wondering,” His voice drawled over the phone.

You held back the urge to shiver in order to hear exactly what he had to say. Granted the wind had stopped, but the night air was slipping through the thin fabric of your clothes and making up for its absence.

“Yeah?”

You heard Chan chuckle—surprisingly enough it sounded nervous.

“Would you ever date a guy like me?”

And just with one question, you almost fell forward off of the swing.

“What are you saying?” You uttered, eyes staring out at the bright red slide in front of you that had been dulled by the darkness.

Chan cleared his throat, “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/n?”

You had said yes too quickly, not just in the sense that it was embarrassing, but also because after you hung up, it really occurred to you that you would be going on a date with Bang Chan.

A date.

Had you even been on a date before?

You wrapped your arms around your body as you contemplated the whole situation. It was dark outside despite the street lights, and even then, they were too dim to really be doing their job. But you hardly noticed, too immersed in your own head to worry about the dark or the possibility of meat-heads roaming around looking for their next meal.

Your skin prickled, your subconscious attempting to warn you about the shadow that lurked only a few feet away.

The date. It should be easy; smile, talk to him without vomiting, and be sure not to make a complete fool of yourself in front of the single most attractive man you had ever seen. Piece of cake.

You mentally cursed Minho for possibly scaring you for the rest of your young life. Could you hold it over him if his years of desensitizing you turned you into a lonely cat-lady?

No—he’d already taken that title, and you weren’t sure if the universe was ready to support two financial tragedies within the same family.

The sound of footsteps fell to deaf ears, the lights of the dorms were able to be seen from your place on the street, and there wasn’t a shred of dread in your naive body. Not even when the sound of sneakers padding against tar got closer—too close for comfort had you been paying any attention. Maybe you were too tired, or your head was too preoccupied to focus on the approaching body behind you.

Not until there was a hand wrapping around your mouth and another pinning your arms to your sides. In your shock, you could feel the flex of your aggressor’s biceps—he was strong, and it had your heart stopping in your chest.

You wiggled the best you could in his grip, but the man’s hold was too constricting, and you suddenly wanted to cry. How stupid could you have been to let something like this happen?

Your heart pounded in your chest as you plead against the calloused hand, your legs shaking like jelly. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear—mint, the one thing you could focus on was that his breath didn’t reek of alcohol like you would’ve assumed.

“Wow…” He released a breath with a small chuckle, and your brows furrowed.

The voice was familiar—

“You really are stupid. Do you realize that you would’ve been so dead if I wanted to like—take advantage of you and dump your body in a river, or something?”

You squirmed out of the stupid stupid strong arms of your stupid stupid ex-friend, you eyes set in a harsh glare as you brought your fists down on his firm chest.

“You fucking pig!” You screeched with rage, fists clenched even when he grabbed your wrists in between fits of laughter. You actually wanted to stab a knife into his eye. “I can’t believe you did that! I thought I was going to die, asshole!”

Changbin snickered with a mocking coo, “I know. Poor baby...”

“You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“Just think—” he released your hands, only to block the oncoming smack that you sent. “You won’t make this mistake again, stupid-head.”

You huffed, wrapping your arms around your body again and continuing forward, your pulse more intense than it had been before. “What if I had gone into cardiac arrest or something? You would’ve been fucked in more ways than one. Do you know what they do to rapists in prison?”

“Y/n,” Changbin chuckled under his breath, meeting your stride easily. “I didn’t rape you, in case you didn’t notice.”

“But if I died, that’s what it would’ve looked like! And suddenly you’re in concrete hell.”

Changbin shook his head. “God—just be more careful next time you decide to walk alone in the middle of the night. Call one of us or something.”

Guilt nawed at your skin, and you sent him a sulky pout. He was right. If something really had happened, you would’ve been fucked. Unless the guy was thinner than a twig and had a shit center of gravity, your chances of getting out of that kind of danger was unlikely. Damn Changbin and his infuriatingly true points.

You let out a groan as the boy beside you casually slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Fine. You’re right. Happy?”

Changbin’s head turned to you and he released another coo, his forehead pressing against yours and successfully annoying the shit out of you. How everyone else dealt with him was a true mystery.

He was supposed to be older than you?

The pitch of his voice raised, “Of course I am.”

You wrenched out of his grip, swatting away his reaching hand and stepping out of his range.

Perhaps there would be a murder tonight.

“Stop being a creep and act like a normal person for once, Bin.”

Without even looking back, you could feel the pout on his lips. But he only let out a quick whine before following after you, his hands stuffed into his jeans.

You had hardly noticed before, but he was dressed strangely—he was in a torn to shit grey t-shirt, multiple splotches of something black plastered across his torso just above the ragged seam of where the shirt ended, holes scattered everywhere exposing glimpses of his firm chest. The jeans weren’t any better, almost completely colored black by the same substance on his shirt, baring rips at the knees and not the ones you get solely for fashion.

“By the way…” You drawled, twisting around to rake your eyes over him one last time. “What were you even doing before this?”

Changbin glanced at his attire and shrugged, the smallest glow of red covering his ears. “I’ve been working on cars for some extra money.”

Your eyebrow raised. “At night?”

“It’s the only time I have free between producing new songs and school.”

Nodding you faced back towards the dark street in front of you.

Changbin had never sparked you as a manual labor kind of guy, let alone someone who could fix cars and get paid for doing it. But after taking a moment to think about it, it made sense. He fit the scene, so to say, and it somehow added to the edgy look he already had going on for him.

You didn’t know as much about your friends as you probably should’ve.

“So you guys actually got the recording room done? Are you and Chan using it now?” You asked nonchalantly, a terrible attempt to slide Chan into the conversation. Changbin must’ve known a few things about Chan that could help you quench your nerves for the upcoming date.

Changbin sent you a sideways look, letting you know that you weren’t as slick as you thought you were.

“Ah, Chan…” He hummed, the two of you finally getting close enough to the university to discern the different buildings. “What’s up with you two?” He asked hesitantly, a hint of a frown on his brow.

“Well—I mean, I like him a lot.” You fumbled for the right words, though you knew that Changbin wasn’t one to rush you. As annoying as he could be, he was a good listener. “And he just asked me out—”

“He did?”

Well, you thought he was a good listeners

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Earlier he asked if I wanted to go out on a date or something—”

“Or something?”

You shoved him to the side, though his heavy body barely moved an inch.

“Would you stop interrupting me? I’m serious.” You huffed, frustrated.

“I am too.”

You froze—huh?

Your eyes searched his for a moment, his words not as comforting as you wanted them to be, instead his questioning only made your stomach twist in more knots than they had been in before. You really didn’t know anything about Chan, and talking to someone who did only made you hesitant about continuing with this first date of yours.

Sure, you weren’t one to believe rumors about people you barely knew—but it was the fact that you barely knew Chan that made you so nervous.

“Well I’m a little surprised that Chan asked you out.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“Uh…” Changbin paused, searching for his next words carefully with a contemplative hum. “It’s nothing bad. I mean, Chan’s one of the best people I know.”

“But…?”

He stopped to wait for you to run your student ID along the sensor, listening to the automatic click of the door and using it as a stall for time. He was trying to find the right way to word what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to blindside you, nor did he want to sabotage his friend by telling you something that might steer you away.

He waited for you to take a step inside the dorms before continuing with a hushed voice.

“Chan is… very selfless let’s say. He doesn’t really take the time to date per se. He’s work oriented. Not to say he hasn’t had girlfriends before, but they never really—”

“Became anything?”

That was what you had been contemplating. If the date went wrong, could you talk to Chan afterwards? Would he still be that person you could call if you wanted to step away from the world? You couldn’t find yourself feeling upset if that happened to be the outcome.

But with the small look of suspicion that Changbin sent, his brow curling upwards, you quickly backpedaled.

“He mentioned something about it while we were on the phone.” You rushed to save yourself.

Taking your answer without question, he stopped. You were both standing outside of your room, the quiet hallway encasing the both of you and chilling you to the bone more than the night air had. Changbin bit his tongue.

“Chan is an amazing friend. But I’ve never really seen him as a boyfriend before.” He sighed, scratching his cheek. “And as much of a little shit you are… I care about you enough to want you to be happy.”

“Is this you warning me?”

“No.” His mouth formed a thin line, he really had no idea how to word anything. It was beginning to frustrate him. “Just be aware that he isn’t the most observant guy when it comes to himself, so be patient with the guy.”

Okay, that helped you none whatsoever.

You sighed, pushing your dorm door open and nodding finally for Changbin.

“Well, thank you, Bin. For walking me and all that…”

Your gratitude was pitiful, but Changbin smiled wide nonetheless, glad that he could help you out despite his advice being absolutely terrible.

“Anytime, Y/n.” He ruffled your hair before you could stop him. “But next time, call me before you decide to be stupid and walk alone agian, okay?”

You smiled.

“Yeah. I promise, Bin. Thanks—seriously.”

As you closed the door, you missed the way Changbin’s lip quirked, his ears once again shining a red in the dim lighting of the hallway. He chuckled, shaking his head.

He wished both Chan and Jisung luck—you really were a handful.

“So this is a date?”

You had absolutely no idea what to say, your nervous gaze on the road in front of you as Chan glanced over at you from his place behind the wheel of his beloved Subaru Crosstrek—he had gone on a cute spiel about how he managed to scrounge up enough money from producing his tracks to afford the down payment on the car. It was cute only because he giggled every time he mentioned some miniscule detail that wasn’t necessary for the development of the story.

He always apologized when he got off track, but those were your favorite parts.

And you still had no idea what to say.

“Yeah, Y/n. A date. Have you ever been on one of those before?” He joked, taking another turn into yet another neighborhood.

He had to have gone down at least four streets already—

“Does a slow dance at a mediocre prom count?”

“A what?”

You snorted, feeling the telltale heat of your cheeks reddening. You were such a loser, the best you could do was tell him about your failed relationships?

“I mean, Jung Wooyoung was pretty hot, so I guess it could count. Granted, Minho stepped in before he could kiss me at the end of the song.”

“You’re kidding.” He looked close to ripping his cheeks with how wide his smile was stretching.

His eyes flickered to you and a shiver ran down your spine at the way he took one hand off the wheel and leaned against the center console. You were either terrified of him crashing or really turned on by the way his biceps bulged at the movement.

You cleared your throat, “Minho was always really adamant about keeping me away from all the funny business.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately not. My brother sucks.”

Chan burst out laughing. “That’s why he pulled that, ‘what are your intentions with my baby sister’ act?”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. But he backed off so quickly, I was convinced that it was a joke.”

You nearly choked, your eyes widening as you suddenly threw yourself around to look at him, unable to feel surprised at the way he was already looking at you with a charming smile.

“He did what?”

“Yeah,” Chan shrugged, shifting back to look at the road. “I asked him why it mattered and he just kind of backed off.”

That was right—Minho was scared of Chan.

You would never forget that fun fact for as long as you lived, and it was all thanks to Bang Chan. It really had you rethinking the whole reason why you were nervous in the first place. Chan was the only person in your life that had managed to get rid of stress rather than add to it, and you were obviously worried over nothing. Chan was amazing.

And you were crazy.

You laughed, catching Chan’s attention, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips without you noticing. How you had managed to have him whipped within a matter of days was a complete mystery to him. But there he was, staring at your lips and risking his damn life while doing so. Chan was hopeful, he wanted things to go well this time, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure of that.

“Where are you taking me, you maniac?” You giggled in exasperation as he took yet another turn into a neighborhood, house stacked upon house.

Sure, it was nice to drive around with him, but you were beginning to get antsy. Even more so as Chan continued to look over at you and smirk, his smile as infuriating as it was attractive.

“We’re almost there, hold on.”

“That doesn’t tell me where—”

Turning down a dead-end, Chan lifted his hand to your mouth with an emphasized “shhh”.

Maybe he was a maniac and he was planning on killing you as soon as you reached the end of the street. You definitely wouldn’t be able to find your way back to the main road if he tried, so it was definitely a possibility.

“Don’t worry about it.” He hushed.

With a small scoff, you puckered your lips in a pout and they briefly brushed against the palm of his hand. With the action, your eyes widened as his head snapped your direction. Immediately, your lips pulled into a tight line, your stomach tying up in knots as he dropped his hand and let it fall to your thigh, causing your whole body to go ridged. What was wrong with you?

Chan chuckled, patting your thigh in an attempt to dissolve your tenseness, but it only proved to make your clothes feel much tighter than they had been before. You were physically going to melt into the seat with how hot you were getting, and you sure as hell hoped you weren’t sweating as much as you thought you were.

But the feeling of his hand wasn’t unpleasant—it was warm, but not so much that it was uncomfortable, which was surprising considering how your skin was close to melting off the bone. It simply rested there, occasionally he drummed a nonexistent beat against it with his first two fingers, though you suspected that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been doing that.

Without you realizing, he pulled the car into park, his eyes amused as he watched you stare at his hand for a little longer.

Something else—you definitely were.

“We’re here.” Chan said, lifting his hand away from your thigh to pull the key from the ignition.

You weren’t upset that he had moved his hand, but you couldn’t deny that disappointment had started to bubble up.

Looking out your window, you noticed that you were, in fact, at the end of the dead-end road. But instead of a dense thicket of trees or a mountain of concrete blocking it off, there sat a decrepit and grey building. The maroon of the bricks had been worn and chipped, and the large barn looking doors were rusted and close to falling off their hinges. You can tell that it had once been beautiful with the large stone bird watching over on a centered pedestal.

Chan opened his door to get out and you followed, despite how strange it might’ve been that he took you to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

“What is this?” You asked, almost shell shocked at the sheer size of the building as you both stepped closer.

“It’s an old fire station.”

Old didn’t do the place justice—every new fire station you had seen was pristine and white, large open door garages lining the first floor. The one in front of you was nothing like the ones in town.

“I used to live in this neighborhood before I moved to Sydney. I was very young and don’t really remember much about it, but I do remember this place.” He smiled, looking up at the two storied building. “When I came back I never expected it to be still standing after fifteen years. I thought the two would’ve torn it down and built a convenience store there or something, but nope, it’s still here.”

It was nice to see his face light up while talking about something he cared about. It was endearing.

He then grabbed your hand with a small wink and dragged you forward, though you didn’t put up much of a fight at all. Every part of you screamed about how nice his hand felt around yours, how his palms weren’t too calloused to be rough but enough to want them all over the rest of your body. His pale skin pretty with the contrast of his raised veins. Veiny hands were nice… You really were just reverting back to your horny high school self, weren’t you?

You cleared your throat.

“But why did you bring me here?” You questioned, looking warily at the back of his head.

You weren’t scared, but you were almost certain that a building that was decades old wasn’t a normal date site.

“Why not?” Chan shrugged, hoping to god that you couldn’t see just how terrified he was.

“Maybe because I was expecting to go watch a movie or go to a restaurant?”

He glanced back with a raised brow. “Do you want to do those things?”

“I’d rather chew off my foot,” you admitted, catching him off guard for a moment. “But I’m trying to make you feel like the weird one here.”

Weird one indeed. He had spent the entire night before without sleep, not coming up with a new track, but thinking of where exactly to bring you. He contemplated how to explain to you the reason why he was so exhausted and jittery was because he didn’t want you to leave the date thinking that he was some average guy. Chan didn’t want you to think he was boring. So he could be weird if it meant you wanted to see him again.

You shared a smile, both of your nerves fading away with each passing second. Of course, Chan had nothing to worry about.

He proceeded to pull you through the old rickety door of the station, completely ignoring the way the visible slivers of his chest flexed when he tugged the door open with one good yank. Now that you were actually thinking about it, his outfit was one of the best you’d seen him in; a simple black muscle tee topped with a heavy denim jacket, and his jeans whitewashed and ripped.

It was simple but effective considering you couldn’t keep your eyes off the strips of flesh that peaked behind his jacket. If only the autumn breeze had taken a day off.

The further the two of you got into the building, the more excited Chan looked. His eyes lit up and there was suddenly a bounce in his step. Not to mention the way his grip on your hand tightened to the point where he was nearly cutting off the circulation. But it was nice nonetheless. You didn’t have the heart to be upset with him.

Your eyes flew around to all the different old contraptions that must’ve been shiny in their prime. With torn hoses all over the place, and precariously placed pipes, you had no idea whether to be amazed that they hadn’t succumbed to the elements or terrified that if you took one wrong step you would fall and get impaled.

Looking over at Chan, you giggled as he began to unravel a wound up hose, momentarily releasing your hand to act like a complete child.

“So what was your plan when we got here? Get me in a secluded place so you could tie me up and kill me?” You teased, offering him a smile.

Chan wanted to do two of those three things—that was for sure.

“What? You don’t want to explore this magnificent building with me?” He asked despite himself.

“So you didn’t plan some elaborate picnic with candles and fancy homemade French food?”

Chan paused for a moment, lips fighting a smile. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. The hours of preparation was for naught, and Chan could care less.

He hummed, “Well if you mean a blanket on the floor and take-out, then yeah. No candles though. I have a bad feeling that if we were to light any fire within ten miles of this place it would turn to dust. Which would be pretty ironic considering it is a fire station—”

“Are you rambling?”

Chan froze, mouth open to deny your question, but found that it wasn’t completely false and shut it.

“...it’s probably cold too.” He added lastly.

You smiled.

“Sounds good to me.”

You then proceeded to struggle your way up a flight of unstable spiral stairs with Chan close behind—so close that his arms were almost completely around you. He assured you that it was only so he wouldn’t be at fault if you fell. But it felt nice whenever his chest brushed lightly against your back, so you let his lame excuse slide.

The food was, in fact, cold. But it was still good since you really couldn’t go wrong with traditional Korean food.

And so the rest of the evening played out, the two of you sharing pleasantries and learning about one another, with many cracked jokes about your brother and his friends, only strategically avoiding Jisung all together.

Chan went on about his story, how he had two younger siblings back in Australia and a set of loving parents that believed in each and every one of his dreams as he grew up, and supported his pursuit of becoming a producer. You bit your tongue, keeping your questions of “do you miss them?” and “do you still see them?” to yourself. Still, Chan seemed happy enough, you thought. Considering you would be miserable if you had to spend your time with someone who complained and sulked the whole time. You were glad he could talk about his family without falling into a pit of missing them.

That date was pretty perfect, despite its oddities.

Who knew someone could be a by-the-book romantic and an original dork at the same time?

Your own thoughts had you chuckling into your water, almost making you cough, but thankfully Chan hadn’t noticed, his attention too zeroed in on all the food in front of him.

“Oh shit—I forgot all about that thing!” He suddenly exclaimed, his eyes locked on a rusty fireman’s pole that ran up into a hole in the floor. Chan hadn’t even finished his (second) bowl of food when he jumped up and ran up to the death trap. The thing didn’t even have any padding at the bottom to protect someone from breaking their legs, and he was excited about that?

Suddenly, you let out a laugh—it was the kind that comes out unexpectedly and makes a loud, unattractive noise and it surprised you both. Your hand clamped down over your mouth on impulse before your shocked expression broke, a swarm of giggles leaving your covered lips and forcing a pink tinge over your cheeks. Chan could only stare at you in awe, trying to think of everything else that could beat your laugh in the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, but he came up blank.

“Come down the pole with me.”

His words had you freezing mid-laugh, eyes wide.

“What? No way am I doing that. What if I get pole burn?”

“Here,” Chan threw his jacket over your shoulders, surprising you with the flood of warmth cascading around you. “Now you can’t get pole burn.”

You pushed your arms through the arms of the jacket, silently relishing in the warm weight.

“Ah, look at you Romeo. I see that you’re trying to make up for all the years I missed going on dates. How romantic.”

“I try.”

With a wink, he was grabbing onto the pole all of a sudden and wrapping his legs around it. You barely had time to stare at the image of his thick biceps curling around the pole before he was descending down it with a laugh of his own. You leaned forward to watch him hit the floor, his knees bending to absorb the impact. He smiled up at you, the sight blinding.

“Your turn!”

“Did I ever mention that I’m kind of allergic to bad ideas?”

Chan snickered, leaning his hands on the pole and shaking it to show you just how “sturdy” the thing was. The wiggle and creak didn’t set you at ease, that was for sure.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. You just watched me do it!” Was his genius response.

The night was beginning to just become you counting how many times Chan said or did something that made you think he was a child.

“Okay, I just don’t understand why you want me to go down this damn pole! Is it some right of passage or something? Do you only go out with the girls who have the balls to do something this stupid?”

“Slide down here and find out.”

He got you there. You really did want to find out.

So you bit the inside of your cheek and wrapped your shaky hands around the rust crusted pole. How Chan managed to do so so easily without sleeves was baffling and a little sexy for whatever stupid reason. You had a thick layer of denim protecting you, and you still felt like you were going to be filleted open.

“Don’t think about it,” he encouraged with a soft voice. “Just jump. I’ve got you.”

And at the words of a poet, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, taking a step off the wooden floor and letting gravity pull you down. You could hear the rust tug and catch on the fabric of Chan’s jacket, but only for a second, because it only lasted a second before you felt hands grab your sides and pillow your impact. A surge of adrenaline had you breathing heavy as Chan cheered lightly in your ear.

“There. You did it.” He poked your forehead with a chuckle, getting you to open your blown eyes. “You have successfully completed the initiation.”

Your heart felt heavy and beat hard against your ribs as he straightened you out, hands finding purchase in his jacket. Subtly he was admiring how you looked in his clothes, but he would never admit that sappy fact to anyone.

You smiled; admittedly shakily. “Ah, yes. Validation. My favorite.”

Chan admired how you could keep releasing quips despite your fear. You weren’t one to be deterred, that was for sure.

“You have an unlimited supply of sarcasm in you, huh?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t run out yet.”

He smiled and you smiled, it was a good moment—the best of the day. A moment where you were glad you listened to him and literally took the leap. Ready to take another one, your eyes dropped to his lips and his dropped to yours.

And he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You weren’t completely caught off guard, but you definitely were. His hand that wasn’t preoccupied with fiddling with your fingers found your face, palm cupping your jaw and urging your head to tilt to meet his kiss better. It was gentle, as you had expected from Chan, and you were thankful for that.

His lips were softer than you expected and you prayed that the hand that held your cheek wouldn't be able to feel the way your face was burning. The way he intertwined your fingers was more intimate than the kiss itself and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting light-headed. You lost yourself to the way your shared breaths echoed around the large room every time your lips separated only to reconnect again immediately.

Your first kiss—well, your first real kiss. Surely that one you had shared with Kang Chanhee back in your first year of high school didn’t count. You had only gotten away with it since Minho was home sick that day, anyway.

It was much warmer than your last kiss, that was for sure. His jacket kept you shielded from the cold air and his body secreted a natural heat that had you pressing closer, which in turn sent him a signal to push forward as well.

Suddenly, his teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh of your lip, pulling a taut gasp from your throat.

The noise had Chan withholding a groan, pushing him to break the passionate exchange, his hazy eyes meeting your wide ones.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice small and unsure.

He could see the way your lips shined with not only your spit but his own. In some sick and twisted way, he was pleased to see the redness that the kiss brought to your puckered lips. It was satisfying. It was a sort of claim, and he was proud to hold it.

"Nothing. Just admiring my work." He grinned.

You hardly had time to register his words when the hand wrapped around yours was used to yank you forward, Chan’s mouth finding yours once again in a quick peck, leaving you just about a hundred degrees warmer than you originally felt.

#stray kids #skz #inkidz #stayverse #jisung #han jisung #bang chan #han jisung x reader smut #han jisung x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids reader insert #smut #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids blurbs #stray kids requests #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids fanfic #jisung/reader #series #fic; man up

[denays-xo]

Trying To Get Back Together | Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Pairing: Tsukishima x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.04k

Warnings: swearing, angst, toxic behavior, toxic relationship, slight spoiler, verbal argument, no happy ending, ooc tsukishima

Author's note: This is the last update for Tsukishima's story in TTGBT (series? ;3). I plan on posting other stuff too like head canons, one-shots and maybe SMAUs. So stay tuned! I'd like to mention @chelly-ilysmiwdfy! Thank you for liking my previous update. Keep being your cool self!

I'd really appreciate it if you like and reblog. Please do not repost without proper credits 'cause I worked really hard on this :(. Thank you and enjoy!

Summary: Y/N has been living peacefully (or at least tried to) after graduating college and having the opportunity to work their dream job. Strongly getting by everyday and extremely determined to overcome the obstacles that will come their way. When they least expected it, a tragedy came, they were invited to their highschool reunion and there they reconciled with Tsukishima Kei, their highschool ex-boyfriend.

TTGBT: Tsukishima Kei

Part 1: The Meeting

Part 2: The Backstory

Part 3: The Ending

"What did you do with the apartment?" He asked as he continued to stare at the view in front of you two. Your hands still grabbing on to the railing like it's your lifeline.

"I sold it. A friend lives there now." You left the apartment the night you broke up. But the last message he sent you was him insisting that you keep it.

"I see. I guess you wouldn't want to stay there."

"Yeah." Tsukishima's heart shatters upon hearing your answer. 

"We could get another one." He smiled awkwardly. 

"Huh?"

You felt his hand grab yours and place it on his chest. Your mind went blank and all you could feel was the fast beating of his heart. 

"Be mine again, Y/N. Please."

It is as if someone has poured a bucket of ice cold water over your head. You stood there, frozen and staring, just trying to process what he said. 

"I—what? What is this?" Your mind was blank and you were only able to let out a few words. 

"I want you to be mine again." 

"I—no." The fear on his face was too much. "I—should—I'll get going, Tsukishima-kun." 

"No. No, Y/N, please hear me out." He held both your hands this time, no plans on letting you go. The both of you stood there for a couple of seconds just staring at each other, trying to find the right words to say. You were at least slightly prepared to see him at this party, but you weren't prepared for this. 

"Tsukishima-kun, I don't think this is a good idea. Please let go of me." 

"Y/N, be mine again." His loud sobs filled the balcony. You look around and surprised that no one has attempted to go outside yet. "Please, Y/N. I'm still so fucking in love with you, I just can't let you go." 

He looked desperate, completely different from the Tsukishima that was cool-headed and sarcastic before. 

"I—I don't want to anymore. Please let go of me." Your eyes started to tear up and you couldn't figure out why your chest was tightening so much. 

"I promise to… to give you everything you want. I'll make you happier this time around. I promise I won't lash out on you anymore. I—please just be with me." He looked at you with expectant eyes.

"It wasn't because you're mad, Tsukishima-kun. It was because," you hiccup unconsciously because somehow you were crying too. "because you kept running away. I don't think you still get me after all these years." 

The tears continually streaming down his face, what a tragic sight. Your heart ached for the man you once loved.

"We still have a chance right?" His voice was shaky, almost a mumble, he was struggling and you could tell. 

"We already had our chance and we blew it. You know we blew it. Let's just go on with our lives, please." 

He went down on his knees and held my hand even tighter. 

"No, no, I'm not ready to let go of you yet. I don't want to lose you. I want you back, come back to me, please. Sleep next to me again, I miss your warmth whenever you hug me. I miss your cooking. I miss how you play with my hair. I miss our bickering. Everything, I miss you so damn much. I think you're the only girl I'll be able to love. I-I know I was stupid, but I can change right? Y-you'll come back if I change right?" 

"Please stand up, Kei. Don't kneel, please." You looked up to the sky partly avoiding the sight that's in front of you right now and partly trying to calm yourself. "Why are you doing this? You were the rational one, right? You were the one who's good at handling hard situations. Why have you become like this?" When you finally look down, you see him crying on his forearms still holding onto your hand.  

"I just—I desperately want you back and… and I promise not to hurt you anymore."

"I promised myself I won't hurt like that anymore too. I'm finally starting to value myself and I refuse to be treated that way again." You took a deep breath and proceeded to let your heart out. "What you did really hurt me, Kei."

He lifted his tear-stained face, once again he was listening to you intently. 

"I was alone at the most important and vulnerable times of our relationship. I know, you were the same. I knew and I understood that. You're going through the same pain as me. You were alone too. But I tried, Kei. I tried to fight for it, didn't I? I sought for you, I reached out. But I don't think you were willing to fight for us too. How could I fight for something as important as our relationship alone? How could I continue to fight when you weren't even willing to fight with me." 

The both of you quietly stared at each other for god knows how long. You knew he understood. You removed your hands from his grip and wiped the tears on his face. You lowered yourself leveling with him and kissed him on the forehead. 

"The next person you love," both of your tears fell in sync "love them with all your heart. Don't be afraid to be vulnerable when you're with them. I know you like to act cool thinking that people will like that more. But nothing makes a person fall harder in love when you are honest and open about your feelings towards them. Love again, Kei. And—and love them better." 

Tsukishima looked up to you with all the hope gone in his eyes. He knew there was no getting back now. He knew he hurt you so much but you were still kind to him. He knew his heart would never fully heal. He knew he would regret losing you for the rest of his life. He knew you will never be his again. He knew but he never spoke. Then, you did.

"Let's not meet each other again."

You stood straight and headed towards the door immediately. You didn't think you could take it if anything more happened. The last thing you heard was his scream as he cried loudly again. 

You left anyway. 

TTGBT: Tsukishima Kei

Part 1: The Meeting

Part 2: The Backstory

Part 3: The Ending

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu fanfic #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #break up #ttgbt

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: I just want to say, for my OG readers that have been reading this since I first posted the headcanon list last year, I love and appreciate y’all so much!! If you want, since this is a long term project, I can add you to the tag list if you like :)

Also Letter commission’s are open until 3/10, so if your interested, price and info are here. 

Based on this Headcanon list (x) : Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! <This is Part 4!>

You sigh, eyes glancing back at your watch.

Maybe it’s off?

You wouldn’t put it past Fred to screw up the time on your watch just so you would show up an hour early to your class, wondering if it was always this dark at eight in the morning.

But if Fred did mess with your watch, how does that explain everyone else? You turn to your right and look at a group of third and fourth years scattered around the room. Surely he couldn’t have changed the time in everyone’s watch.

Though at this point you know better than to assume anything is impossible for Fred Weasley, especially if he’s able to get George on board with his pranks.

You sigh, eyes sweeping over the room again. The chatting has long died down, now it looks like all those late nights in the common room playing exploding snap are finally beginning catching up.

Especially when the class was missing the particularly loud and somewhat entertaining antics of the one and only, Gilderoy Lockhart. It wasn’t that it was particularly fun to watch his nonsensical lessons or anything- but at least it was something to watch. And as long as you were barley competent, you could get by just fine on the “pop quizzes” he had. Though they were really more like magazine quizzes about how well you knew him.

Plus he was pretty good looking, though you would rather die than admit that to Fred or George.

Speaking of your favorite pair of doppelgängers-

You turn to look at your side, the two chair next to you on the long bench are vacant. Well, it’s not like it’s totally unusual for them to skip class. You can count on one hand how many times they’ve been excited to come to defense against the dark arts this year. But-

But... they usually invite you when they do decide to play hooky.

Maybe they didn’t invite you because you’re always persuading them to come to class instead. ‘You don’t want a howler from your Mum now do you?’ You would say, pushing them towards the class.

Maybe they just don’t think you’re fun to be around anymore. No, no, they’re your friends- you can’t start thinking like that, there must be a good reason why-

“Hey (Y/N/N)” George squeezes past you, plopping into the chair next to you with a soft rattle.

His hair’s sticking every which way, his robe is crooked, and his tie isn’t even tied, just hanging limply along his neck. 

“You don’t even have your bag George” you hiss, did he finally get into a fist fight with Draco Malfoy? You’ve told them both not to think too hard about how he called you-

“Wait where’s Fred?” You look to the door, expecting to see a messy head of fire red hair walk through the door, sporting bruises and maybe a grin like his black eye is a gold medal.

But instead, there’s a familiar head of golden hair standing in the doorway. It’s Gilderoy Lockhart. There’s no doubt about it, the image of him is perfect. Of course it’s your professor.

Of course it is.

But there’s something about the way he carries himself? Like he’s still getting used to having legs so short. The way his smile seems a little more...mischievous than usual, that twinkle of absolute delight in those strangely familiar eyes.

“Oh no” you mumble, but George grins from beside you.

“I’m not going to be needing my bag, and neither are you” George whispers in your ear, and you turn to look at him.

They didn’t.

“Good afternoon class, sorry I’m late! I was admiring myself in one of my thirty mirrors and the time just...got away from me.” ‘Professor Lockhart’ says flashing his class the most condescending smile you have ever seen.

“That’s not a lie you know, we did find him admiring himself in the mirror” George whispers, your face is in your hands but you don’t need to look at him to know he’s got a pleased grin on his face.

“It’s why it was so easy to knock him out and shove him into the teachers lounge- he never even saw it coming”

Well at least they didn’t shove him into a broom closet.

“Now class, I would like you to write a list of things you love about me-“ there’s a collective groan and the rustle of parchment but neither you and George don’t move a muscle.

“Four feet at least!” Fred, in his Lockhart-skin-suit bellows, which earns another collective groan from the rest of the class.

“So what, did you draw the short stick, why aren’t you up there?” You ask jerking your head towards Fred, it looks like the more fun part of the prank honestly. It also seems like the sweetest m form of revenge after old Gildy gave you three detention last week for showing up late to class, but you won’t mention that.

George only shrugs.

Honestly ninety percent of this situation was Fred’s poor impulse control. One second they were running late to class, and George was worrying about getting detention because if he has to scrub all those awards for Filch again he won’t be able to hold a quil - and the next thing he knows he’s carrying Lockhart by his feet into the teachers lounge.

“He’s the showman, I’m just the side kick.” George shrugs, it’s been that way since they were kids. Fred would come up with an idea and George would follow his lead.

Not that he’s upset about it. It’s always interesting, he’s hasn’t been bored in years. Still, he can’t help but wonder if they didn’t share the same face, would he and Fred be as close as they are now?

Or would he be just as easily replaced, most likely by Lee Jordan. Well Ron might make a more susceptible accomplice, would anyone do-

“And where would our fearless leader be without his trustworthy sidekicks?” You say, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. Your voice drawing George out of his thoughts.

“Probably in detention” You muse, that or jail, because technically they assaulted their professor, and that’s got to be a serious offense.

George laughs next to you, well you’ve got a point. If it wasn’t for you and him, you three would have been expelled long ago. He’s about to lean over and whisper something in your ear when some interrupts him mid motion.

“Weasley and (L/N), less flirting and more quil movement, yes?” He really sounds like Fred right there, a hint of an accent peaking through. Not that anyone other than you and George seem to notice. They’re all too busy contemplating how embarrassing it must be to get called out for not paying attention by Gilderoy Lockhart of all people.

You manage to not roll your eyes, sifting through your bag until you pull out some parchment.

“Geez four feet? That’s kind of excessive” you mumble while George is holding back laughter so violent he’s actually shaking.

“You know he’s just teasin’ right? It’s not like Lockhart’s actually going to grade these-“ and then a horrible realization dawns on him.

Half of the reason they thought this plan would work is because someone as pompous as Gilderoy Lockhart would never admit that two teenage boys hit him over the head with one of his books, and shoved him on a sofa (after tying his shoe laces together).

No, good old Gildy would go along like nothing had even happened, perhaps he’d even believe that nothing had really happened. Not enough sleep and too much caffeine do result in memory loss. And who can sleep with ‘the heir of Slytherin’ on the loose?

Ordering-sorry, assigning them to write four feet worth of parchment about what they admire about their professor sounds exactly like something he would do.

“Fucking Fred.” George hisses, why did he bloody have to pick four feet? Wouldn’t just one foot have sufficed? But no, the great Fred could never- ‘it adds enthusiasm, it’s all about the drama’ he would say.

Well where’s your god damn drama now that your best friend and brother are about to fail this god forksaken class, all because you couldn’t say one foot instead of f*cking four, George wants to scream.

You sigh, cutting your parchment in half, handing one half to George. You’ve only got four feet on you, you didn’t think you would need any more than that, so the both of you are just going to have to turn in two feet each.

“Sure would be a shame if Fred came back to the dorm and found, oh I don’t know, fifty spiders in his bed” you muse as you pull out two quills, and a bottle of ink. You’ve only got the one bottle, you’ll have to share.

But George isn’t paying any mind to the ink and parchment situation, instead he’s grinning at your suggestion. He always knew you had a wicked streak.

“Yeah it would be a real shame if say, two people were to go down to Hagrid’s hut, collect some drool from Fang, and smear it all over Fred’s robes” You peer at George from the corner of your eye, trying to hide your smile behind your hand.

“Oh well now wouldn’t that just be awful, hypothetically of course” You say, looking down to your parchment

“Truly a tragedy” He responds with a grin.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #fred and goerge weasley #Fred and George Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #Fred Weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #george and fred weasley #george weasley x reader

[meraki-kintsukuroi]

a star is dying, but the universe won't let it.

(or alternatively: you're burning out like a dying star but these hands that have loved you even long before will never let you go, even if it means getting burnt along.)

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, light angst, soft fluff, references to depression and to the pandemic, and maybe probably a bit of child abuse it doesn't happen though its just mentioned, implied long-distance relationship, space, morbid, and colour metaphors, discussions about death and dying, shit writing and word vomit (bc im rusty as hell).

pairings : kindaichi yuutaro/reader (gn! reader & ambiguous relationship bc ytf not)

wc : 1, 755

a/n: dedicated to @haru-senji for being in the same situation as I and to all the other people who are as well, hang in there you guys, love you and please stay safe <3.

"Hey 'tarou are you up...?", Yuutarou hears you call out to him in the dark, breaking the silence in the night with your voice faint and small, almost lost against the loud howling wind of the dim sky.

He shifts, twisting his body to where you are, and in the dark--despite of it all--reaches for you when you don't pull or push him away and squeezes the hand you let him hold.

(Intimacy between skin has always been a line you jump in and out of and yuutaro wonders if there ever could be a day where he can hold you without you flinching or shrinking away, and without him saying that its okay despite the hurt in his heart or the deep open scars in yours.)

"Mm, yeah..?", he asks, voice a deep low rasp from the silence that had long been stretching between you, "What is it?"

There is a pregnant pause before you speak. It stretches long and wide much like the ones before and he can't help but be reminded of sea and the sky and he thinks that even in the vastness of it all with you besides him, your backs against the grass of some far away place, underneath all the darkness and twinkling nights, and far away from all uninvited eyes. He thinks that if you were to say anything here and now he would keep it lock in his chest until the day he died.

(Because happiness is limited in a world that is almost at its limit, only holding on to whatever thin silver lining there was to just not fall into the void of nothingness and cease to exist.)

"Do you know how a star is born?",

The ex-volleyball captain blinks once and then twice, and thinks of a grand king who he had served for three long years, of a boy turned king-enemy, to a friend that he had found once lost, of a gymnasium so big that it had to be the whole universe with how many stars, planets, and other celestial bodies there had been, but no matter how much he had thought of it, those astral objects that he had thought of was only at their prime and not at their beginning.

(Those people, those upperclassmen, those players, those rivals, his teammates, had been and always been stars--the moon, the sun, the planet--his universe.

He wonders how proud, those who have seen them at their very beginning feel? To see the rock with no fuel burn with utmost energy along with others who are just as bright as them.)

"No, I don't.", He says, a quiet thing and hears you hum, before feeling you twist and turn before finally settling again, not once letting his hand go as you did so.

(He does not comment on how closer you are to him now, afraid you'd pull away and distance yourself from him again.)

"How about when they die?", you ask him instead, and across the vast meadow he hears the crickets chirping this season's song "Do you know how they die?"

Yuutaro closes his eyes, and thinks of an explosion, of bright colours and a supernova exploding in the expanse of space, of the destruction that follows the grief that comes along with the loss of something as bright as a star.

He thinks of the king-prince-boy and how he had exploded into nothing but colours of red, black, and blue of the grand king who had burst out crying hues of green, grey, and teal, of a dark black empty gym with no bright light or palette in sight.

"They, uh, collapse i think...?" He says trailing off, trying to rack his left part of the brain of the lessons he hadn't slept in science class, "Yeah they do--And then they, they, uh... explode into supernovas? Yeah they explode into supernovas." He finishes unhappy but accepting all the same.

It's not like he was as blunt but smooth with his words just like his best-friend, not sweet like honey, or rough but straight to the point. He was still an awkward, tongue tied, and still fumbling idiot even after all this time. Even when he had hit a growth spurt or even after hitting a major milestone in his life, He was still the tall awkward boy people know who had just grown into an adults body to fit an adult's clothes.

You hum again, and he feels you inching closer, but not close enough to hold you the way he wants to--needs to--

(He pushes the greed--the fear of loosing you--letting go of you away. He can't, does not, will never be selfish, he can't allow it, not when he knows all too well what happens to you and the people around you, suffer through all too well.)

"Do you think we'll go out like that?", you ask him again, voice almost like a child afraid, "Like a supernova exploding in colours?"

He feels you shift again, and this time he thinks you're much closer to him than before and he thinks that you might be facing him this time too, he doesn't know it's too dark to see (but even so, even so, even so please come closer so I can hold you so--)

"Or do you think, we'll go out like a daisy crushed by the one who's supposed to take care of it?"

And something about that question, something about the way you say those words, makes his heart scream and mind twist in agony.

Because he thinks of the world, and how its marching to an unknown point and how much its scaring people. Thinks of you and your home that's only getting so much colder with each day passing. Thinks of himself and how he's just like a ghost wandering with a lover that's slowly collapsing--dying underneath the weight, of the pain of it all, that's too much for them to bear and not being able to do anything about it because-- "the only person who can save you is yourself, and you know that better than anyone else Yuutaro." His mother had once said.

And he knows, he knows, he knows, he goddamn knows, that things are getting worse for you--for him-and for everyone else, but he will fight God and his angels if it meant at least being able to carry some of the burden you had to carry all because the people who was suppose to do it but couldn't so you had to learn how to carry it all by yourself even after all this time.

Because Yuutaro with all his awkwardness and flaws had never been alone.

You however, have been painfully all by your lonesome.

And you meant to him that much to say the least.

"I don't know really." he murmurs truthfully, and squeezes your hand as an I'm sorry that i can't help you lift your pain that I was years too late to even try to do so and now you're hurting so much that you're almost at you're breaking point, and even if you don't know why or what, he still tries to.

Because he was just a ghost with no body or home wandering around this world, trying his darn best to find himself again for a lover that's slowly collapsing and loosing the brightness that they once were.

"Lots of people die in many ways you know?", He says not having one single clue about what's he saying but continues on because happiness is a fickle thing and is it selfish of him to hold your hand and keep you safe from the monsters that was supposed to love you for a bit much longer?

"We're not stars or flowers or anything,", He says with a finality he didn't know he had.

"We're people and we die when we die.", he goes on to say, and he thinks of an accident on the news, a tragedy in a script, and a genocide written on the history books, and thinks that for all the fire and hydrogen or whatever that makes up a star, planet, comet, or whatever. They were all still painfully human even on their last moments.

That they'd all bleed, cry, turn ugly, and at the end of it all die in more ways than one, because humanity is a fickle thing and they were no different.

That he was still human despite being a ghost of he once was, that you were still human even if you were a rotting corpse murdered by the monsters that were your own flesh and blood by the burdens and self-projections that they always had.

That the tyrant he had hated so much was just a boy underneath all the gore, grime, and blood, and that the grand king he had served underneath all the gold and silver and bronze was just human too.

They all were.

"But what if someone wants to go already and the people around them don't want them to...?" He hears you mutter softly, and he squeezes your hand again replying.

"Then don't.", He mutters tiredly just as much you are to the world, the monsters, and at yourself, "Live."

"Do you think we'll ever...", you trail off, and he knows from your tone that you must be struggling with what words to say so he squeezes your hand again because this is the only way you'll let him show his love for you other than his presence (because you're so, so, so scared and he is too, for you and for him as well.)

"Live again?"

Because he's a ghost of a star cluster once formed and you're a rotting corpse of a white dwarf floating in space with no way or direction to what home once was.

"I don't know really.." He says again, and crosses the gap between you deciding fuck it and presses his forehead against yours pushing on as he goes on, "But we'll cross the bridge when we get there all right?"

You don't pull away nor you push him away, instead you tense before relaxing again, and this time instead of him you're the one who squeezes his hand instead.

"Yeah we'll cross the bridge when we get there."

And in the dark--despite the dark, he thinks that maybe you're smiling in what it seems for a long while now, and he thinks that maybe, maybe he is too.

(And when morning comes maybe you both start trying to live again.)

#FROM THE CARCASSES OF LITERATURE; #haikyuu x reader #kindaichi yuutarou #kindaichi x reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #kindaichi fluff #kindaichi angst #kindaichi yūtarō #jkfhskfsdfh #pls dont let this flop #im actually pretty proud of this when i was wriing but like #posting this just gives me 100+ anxiety kadshadkja #kindaichi yutaro #haikyuu scenarios

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Boom

Jason ‘J.D.’ Dean x Reader

Words: 1819

Part One

Summary: Preparing to run away together, J.D. and the reader hit a problem in their plan. J.D.’s father. Things take a turn and J.D. has to decide if this new feeling of love is real enough to die for. 

Notes: I know I took forever to write this and I’m sorry! I’m ashamed of how much I love J.D. but here we are. Same as the first part. This has been sooooo much fun to write and I hope that you guys like it! (Again, if you’re at all uncomfortable just skip this)

Warnings: Murder (duh), sex (not smut, but definitly more than I’ve ever done before), language, same as the first part

More 80s/90s: HERE

-

The backseat of your mother’s car was not ideal for this kind of celebration, but you couldn’t wait to get back to the house, so you found a spot in the forest to pull over. J.D.’s face was buried in your neck and your fingers were tangled up in his black hair. He was in a particularly good mood. 

The cops fell for it. Both murders were covered up perfectly. Tommy’s was ruled a suicide and he would forever be remembered as the school pervert. Nobody was surprised by your mother’s death and it was quickly written off as an overdose. The only thing left was to pack. The two of you were getting out of this fucking little town and you were never looking back. 

Pressed together like this, you knew that you didn’t give a shit what happened if it wasn’t with him. Looking into your eyes, J.D. reached a similar conclusion. You were what he wanted. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted something. 

“Where do you think we’ll go?” You asked, situating yourself on top of his chest. He shrugged. 

“Anywhere.” 

You settled into a comfortable silence, his fingers lightly drumming on the small of your back. This was actually happening. For the first time in your life you didn’t feel trapped. You could do whatever the hell you wanted. You had gotten away with two murders for fuck’s sake. You were invincible. 

-

J.D. felt different. Hell, he was feeling, which was a different sensation on its own. He fell back onto his bed with a grin on his face. It wasn’t that someone had broken through the ice. It was more like he had found someone drowning underneath the frost just like him. 

“Hey dad, how was your day?” His dad asked sarcastically, popping his head in the doorway. J.D. didn’t even look up and his dad didn’t stay long enough for a response. It was more of a routine than actual affection. In just a few hours, it wouldn’t matter anyway. His dad could blow himself up for all he cared. He would be long gone. 

He eventually figured that he needed to start packing. He shoved his motorcycle keys in his pockets with a sigh. He’d have to sell it. The two of you would be taking your mom’s old car so you’d have somewhere to sleep, so his motorcycle would have to go. 

“The things I do for love.” He snarked to himself. When he opened his drawers, he found them all empty. “What the hell?” All of them were empty, his clothes were nowhere to be found. He stepped into the hall and saw the pair of suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. 

“I packed everything up for you while you were gone.” His dad walked by them, looking up the stairs at him. J.D. shrugged. 

“Convenient, but why?” 

“We’re finally moving out of this shit hole town. On to sunny Florida!” He had that smile on his face that he usually used to appeal to businessmen and other corrupt assholes. J.D. just laughed. 

“Well isn’t that just perfect timing?” He bounded down the steps with his chaotic grin plastered on his face. “Looks like we are finally parting ways, son.” His dad faltered. 

“What?” 

“Goodbye, adios, adieu.” J.D. grabbed his suitcase and started back up towards his room. “Soon, I will be out of your hair forever. You can go on with your life of bombs and demolition and I will go on with my own kind of destruction.” He pat his dad on the head, ruffling his hair like a normal father would his normal son. 

“Jason, you can’t just leave.” Bud’s smile strained. “We’re a team, you and I.” J.D. stopped suddenly and laughed. 

“Team? Sorry dad, but the only thing we even know about each other is our love of all things explosive.” 

“This is about that girl, isn’t it? The slutty one you’ve been fucking around with since we moved here.” He shook his head, chuckling deeply. “You’ll get bored with her soon enough, so don’t bother.” J.D. just smirked smugly. 

“Thanks for the advice there, pops, but I think I can handle my slutty girlfriend all on my own.” He started to close his bedroom door, but his dad put his foot in the way. 

“You don’t get to leave like she did, boy.” 

“The fuck are you talking about?” 

“I’m not making that mistake again, J.D.” A creepy, maniacal smile spread across Bud’s face. Fuck, I thought I was the only psycho in the family. “Just stay here and I’ll do what I do best.” He moved his foot and slammed the door shut. J.D. heard something scratching and scraping on the other side and quickly tried to get out. 

“You locked me in here with a chair? Seriously!” He screamed through the wood. No response. “Motherfucker.” He paced back and forth plotting a very bloody demise for dear old dad when he heard the squealing of tires outside his window. “Where the hell is he going?” 

Wherever it was, J.D. wasn’t going to be kept out of it. He tried kicking down the door, but that didn’t work. The only way out of the room was the window, but there was nothing to climb down and he was on the second floor. J.D. unlocked the latch and lifted up the window pane, looking out to see just how far of a drop it was. He’d live.

 Without hesitation, he jumped. 

“Fuck!” He shouted, pain shooting up his leg from his ankle. He fell to the ground, but was able to get himself on his feet. His foot hurt like a bitch, but he could bare it enough to walk to his motorcycle. 

He was at your house in less than ten minutes, breaking every traffic rule in the book. He didn’t care, he just wanted to get out. Limping his way up the sidewalk, he found that your front door was already open. 

“Time to go, Y/N. Grab your stuff and let’s get out of here!” He shouted, but the house was empty. Just the strong stench of death and booze that your mother had left behind. Mother. He remembered his dad’s comment and felt a chill. Do what he does best. “Oh shit.” He took off again, heading for his father’s next destruction sight before you became part of it.

-

You spat, hitting him in the eye as he finished cuffing you to the old hospital bed frame. Bud grabbed you by the hair and slammed your head into one of the metal bars. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of crying. Instead you just glared at him through squinted eyes. 

“He’s going to come get me.” You smirked, trying to get the blurriness in your version to clear. “J.D. is going to tear you apart you sick bastard.” 

“You can call me all the names in the book, kid, but my son is coming with me.” He tightened the cuff so that it dug sharply into the skin of your wrist. 

“When did you become the ‘world’s best dad’?” You scoffed. 

“Do you know how much more lenient a judge can be when I’ve got a poor, disturbed teenage boy who depends on me for a living?” 

“So he’s just a legal bargaining chip for you? How sweet.” You pulled against your restraints until the metal broke skin. Blood oozed from your wrist and Bud laughed. 

“Really, Jason couldn’t have picked a better girl for the job. You’re the most disposable person in this town. No family, no friends, no one to report you missing.” He strapped the main bomb to the other end of the bed and started the timer. “And there will be nothing left of you once this does it’s job.” 

“Go to hell.” 

“Lady’s first.” 

You stared at him, wandering if he was the last person you’d ever see. God, that’d be the real tragedy here. You looked at the timer on the bomb. Less than three minutes. Bud noticed you looking and chuckled. 

“I wouldn’t get any ideas. If that one doesn’t go off, there are three more upstairs.” He pointed to the ceiling and then made the motion of it caving in with his hands. 

“You’re enjoying this to a creepy level, Mr. Dean.” You snarked. If you could piss him off, maybe he wouldn’t get out in time. At least then you’d take him out with you. “What, does blowing up 18-year-old girls get you off or something? Is that why your wife killed herself?” He tensed and balled his hand into a fist. 

“You think you’re really cute, don’t you, you little bitch?” 

“No, but your son does.” You smiled sarcastically. Bud just rolled his eyes and turned to leave, meeting the barrel of a gun. 

“Hey there, son.” J.D. growled. Bud held up his hands. 

“Jason, I can-” The gunshot ripped through the small space, making your ears ring. As his dad’s body slumped to the floor, J.D. shrugged. 

“Sorry, tiger, I’m not in the mood for a monologue.” He knelt in front of you, eyes darting to the timer on the other side. 

“Jason Dean, knight in shining black trenchcoat.” You laughed, pulling again at the handcuffs. He moved over to his dad’s body, searching his pockets but coming back empty handed. 

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath. 

“What is it?” 

“No key.” J.D. ran his fingers through his hair, switching his attention to disabling the bomb. Your face fell as the realization hit you. 

“It’s no use. There are more upstairs that are going to go off even if this one doesn’t.” You slumped against the bed frame. His greenish gold eyes looked back at you and for a second you though you saw a hint of panic. You really did love him. “You should go.”

“What?”

“Get out of here, J.D. You don’t have much time.” You tried to keep calm, but your body was betraying you. Your arms were shaking and your face felt hot. You weren’t scared to die, but you were scared to die alone. 

“You really think I’m just going to leave you here?” J.D. shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed frame. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me now. Afterlife and all.” 

“J.D…” You sighed. He silenced you with a hungry kiss. 

“What did I say after we killed that douchebag ex of yours?” He pulled you closer, snaking an arm around your back. Your lips pulled up into a smile. 

“Our love is God.” 

“Our love is God.” He repeated, his eyes sparkling. This time, you pulled him in for the kiss and you stayed pressed together until-

Boom.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks Christian Slater: @staxryskxes

#heathers #chaos is what killed the dinosaurs darling #our love is god #jason dean #J.D. x reader #christian slater #80s #death #murder

[theultimatefanficwriter]

Gundham angst. You’re in FF & he’s in UD you two dated before but he went missing (Not knowing he was in UD) as FF you were sent to retrieve him not know it was Gundham. When you see him and his animals you trying to him, but he doesn’t talk or speak. You able to get to him & touch his face. You tell him how much you miss him, the Devas miss them (you have them) & how much you love him. His giant snake attacks your shoulder & your scream causes him to snap out of his trance. Happy end please

Fuck YES! I’ve been wanting to do something with Remnant Gundham for a while! Thanks for giving me the chance!

Reunited with Despair-Gundham Tanaka x Reader

You walked down the halls of the Future Foundation. You had been called to one of the meeting rooms for some reason. You weren’t quite sure why, but you assumed it was for a briefing about the situation on the outside world. You frowned as you thought about it. It still seemed so surreal to you. The whole world just...tearing itself apart?

You shivered as you reached the room you were told to go to. You looked into the door window as you placed your hand an the door handle, and were a bit surprised to only see Makoto, Kyoko, Byakuya, Yasuhiro, Aoi, and Toko in the room, the survivors of Junko’s sick killing game. You furrowed your brow at not seeing any higher level Future Foundation officials and opened the door.

The six looked up as you entered the room. Toko glared at you. “F-f-finally you g-get here.” She muttered.

You smiled and chuckled awkwardly. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to be late...”

“You aren’t late. Don’t worry, Y/N.” Makoto assured you, giving you a kind smile.

You gave him a grateful look as you sat across from him. “I have to admit, I was a bit surprised to only see the six of you. I thought this was a meeting about the outside world’s condition.”

“Nah, this isn’t about somethin’ like that.” Hiro told you, digging in his ear. “This is about mission assignments! We’ve all been given ours and were told to give you yours.”

You tilted your head. “Mission assignments?” You repeated.

Kyoko nodded. “Correct. The Future Foundation has given us each a job to complete. Yours is to retrieve what we believe to be one of the Remnants of Despair.”

Your eyes widened. “Wh...what?! You’re asking me to go capture one of the Remnants by myself?!”

“Of course not.” Byakuya responded, rolling his eyes. “Doing something like that would be suicide, especially for one such as yourself.” He slid something over to you. As you picked it up and examined it, you realized it to be a pager of some kind. “When you locate the target, simply press the button and a fleet of Future Foundation members will come to your aid.” The Togami heir explained.

“You’re basically like a scout!” Hina told you, giving you a bright smile. “You’re just going to scope the area out and let the professionals know where the Remnant is!”

You nodded, relaxing slightly. “R-right. Yeah, that makes sense.” You looked up to them. “When do I leave?”

~~~

You walked along the streets, clutching the megaphone you had been given as protection in case a Monokuma came to attack you. You looked down at the GPS you had that was leading you to the last sighting of the Remnant of Despair.

You furrowed your brow as you thought about the Remnants. You had no idea who they were. You were rescued fairly early on by the Future Foundation. On the day of the Tragedy, you had been extremely sick and unable to go to school, so you had gone to the doctor’s. As you left, you were attacked by a rioter and gravelly injured. You were thankfully rescued by the Future Foundation, and after you healed you were recruited.

That had actually been fairly recently, and no one had yet filled you in on who the Remnants were. “You think that’d be useful information if I’m supposed to retrieve one.” You muttered. “What the hell does ‘You’ll know when you see them’ even mean?” You sighed as you continued following the signal. All you knew was that they were dangerous, and part of the reason the world was the way it was.

The more you thought about it the more you began to worry. What if you couldn’t press the button in time? You’ve heard about all the damage the Remnants have done. What if they got to you and-

The GPS beeped, jolting you out of your thoughts. You looked down and saw that you had arrived. You looked around anxiously and frowned. You didn’t see anything. As you cautiously walked down the street and looked for anything and anyone, you felt something move inside your purse. Looking down, you saw a furry little head pop out.

You smiled. “Hey, Cham-P.” You said softly, petting the hamster with your finger, “You need to stay put, buddy. These streets are really dangerous. We’ll be back at HQ soon.” You tried to gently push the hamster back into your purse, but with a sniff in the air, the large fur ball hopped out and began to scurry across the pavement.

Your eyes widened and you quickly ran after him. “Cham-P!” You exclaimed as you followed the small creature down the sidewalk. “Wait! Come back! You’ll get-” You cut yourself off when you turned a corner. There, sitting in the middle of the road surrounded by an assortment of animals, was someone you didn’t think you’d ever see again.

“G...Gundham Tanaka?”

His head lifted slightly at your quiet whisper of his name, but he made no other sign of acknowledgment. He...didn’t look like you remembered. He still had his iconic purple scarf and strange hairdo you loved so much. But, instead of his normal black coat, he had a fluffy white hood around his head, and what appeared to be a black...straightjacket? Not to mention he had a new scar on the right side of his mouth, and a strange mark on his forehead.

Was this...was this really your missing boyfriend?

Cham-P had stopped a good distance from the strange sight. He was staring straight at the center of it all, and it only confirmed your suspicions. That really was Gundham. And then you realized.

He was a Remnant of Despair.

You were here to capture him.

You felt like you were about to cry. He glanced at the pager in your hand, then over at Gundham. Biting your lip, you placed the pager into your purse. You walked closer to the circle of animals, scooping up the Dark Deva as you did so.

“Gundham?” You called his name again. He didn’t move, only continued to stare at the ground. You glanced at the animals worriedly. Many of them were large ones like elephants, gorillas, even lions. You took slow steps towards your former love, keeping an eye on the guards around him. They watched you closely, and the lions snarled, but none made a move to harm you.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you continued to Gundham, now only a few feet from him. “Gundham, do you hear me?” You asked. “I-it’s me, Y/N.” He lifted his head up and opened his eyes. The two of you kept contact for a while until he closed his eyes once more. You felt your heart break.

“P-please, Gundham.” You shakily walked closer to him. “You don’t know how hard it’s been without you. I-I had no idea what happened to you. I thought you were out there, barely surviving, or worse you’d been killed!” You felt the tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you got within arms length from the man. “I never stopped thinking about you. I-I missed you s-so much, Gundham.” You looked down to your purse and held out your hands. Four little critters crawled out and looked sadly at the man before them. “We all have.”

The Remnant opened his eyes again at that, and when he spotted the hamsters, you swear you saw a spark of light in his eyes. “I’ve been keeping good care of them, Gundham.” You assured him as you placed them back in your purse. You looked up into his eyes sadly. “But I’m no Ultimate Breeder.” You gave a sad smile. “I...I love you so much, Gundham. God, I love you. I’m so happy to see you, b-but at the same time it hurts so much. It hurts seeing you like this.”

You slowly reached a shaking hand out towards him, half expecting him to stop you. But he didn’t. He simply kept eye contact as you slowly caressed his cheek. You sniffed as the tears finally began to fall. “Oh Gundham. You don’t know....You don’t know how badly I’ve missed holding you. I’ve missed you so much, my love.”

You knew what you had to do. You had to alert the Future Foundation of Gundham’s whereabouts. But you also knew what they wanted to do with the Remnants. They wanted to kill them.

You couldn’t allow that, no matter what he had done.

“I can’t lose you.” You muttered. “I thought I had already, but now that I know you’re actually alive...” You clenched your fists, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his shoulders in an embrace.

And almost immediately you were forced back, letting out a cry of agony.

There was a searing pain in your shoulder as you fell onto your back. As you looked over, tears stinging your eyes, you noticed an extremely large snake latched onto you. It soon began to curl itself around you, constricting you. You tried to get out of it’s grasp, but each move you made only made it hurt more.

You glanced back over to Gundham, about to beg for help, and were surprised to see he was standing. He glared at the snake that was slowly cutting off your air supply. “Arbo-K!” He spoke for the first time since you found him, and his voice boomed all around the deserted street. “Release her at once!”

The snake stopped what it was doing, and after a few moments of not moving, it slowly uncoiled from around you and unsheathed it’s fangs from your shoulder. You began gasping in air and clutching the wound. You looked to Gundham as the snake slithered behind him.

The Remnant began to slowly walk over to you. You looked up to him with frightened eyes. You loved this man with all your heart, but you didn’t know what he was capable of doing anymore.

He stopped in front of you, simply looking down at you for a few moments. And then he extended a hand. You looked at it warily before slowly accepting it. He pulled you to your feet, and when you were standing, you locked eyes with you. “Y/N?” He spoke, his voice gravely and low. “Is...is it truly you?”

You felt a spark of hope in your heart, and you nodded. “Yes! Yes, it’s me, Gundham!” You confirmed, barely stopping yourself from throwing your arms around him again.

The man looked you up and down, examining your uniform. “You...you belong to the Future Foundation.” He stated, his gaze returning to your face.

You nodded, your face turning to a frown. “Yes...and you belong to the Remnants of Despair.”

He nodded as we, sadly examining himself. “It appears I do. However...” He takes your hand in his. “I...I wish to be wherever you are.” Your heart did a thousand happy flips. “You do not understand the despair it brought not knowing your location nor your condition.” He looked to the ground. “In my state of mind, it is one of the reasons I did not search for you. Imagining you dead brought so much despair that my warped mind did not want to ruin that.”

You felt tears threatening to fall once more. “It hurt me too, Gundham.” You told him. “I wanted to know you were alright. I wanted to hold you, kiss you, to tell you how much I loved you. But...I thought you were dead. I never would have thought you had become....this.”

Your boyfriend sighed. “Unfortunately I fell to Junko’s manipulation.” He looked at your uniform again. “...I assume you were sent here to retrieve me, were you not.”

You bit your lip, then nodded slowly. “Y-yes...” You confirmed. “But...but they want to kill you, a-and I can’t let them do that. I won’t let them do that! I-I’ll tell them you’re better! T-that you snapped out of it, t-that-”

Gundham silenced your worried ramblings with a kiss. He pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you against him. You closed your eyes and placed your hands on his chest, enjoying what you had missed for so long.

When he finally pulled away, he looked at you, a soft smile on his lips. “Do not fret, my dark queen.” He spoke softly, running his fingers through your hair. “I am sure we will be able to work everything out.”

You smiled lovingly up at him. “You’re right, Gundham. Together we can do anything.”

You’re boyfriend chuckled. “Of course we can.” He held your hand gently and began to lead you away. “Now come. Before you alert your organization, let me tend to your wound.”

You nodded as your smile widened. You followed behind your once lost love, the happiest you had been in a very long time.

#danganronpa #sdr2 #gundham tanaka #remnant of despair #x reader #female reader #future foundation #angst #danganronpa 2

[delusionalteenagewhispers]

A Prophecy Fullfilled Chapter 2

(Moodboard made by @buckysmischief​)’

(Moodboard created by me)

Fandom: Marvel

AU: Greek Gods AU

Pairing: Hades!Loki x Aphrodite!Reader / (Eventual) Ares!Bucky x Aphrodite!Reader  

Part of a series: Yes or No

Warnings: Cussing, Talks of sex, Words cock and pussy being used, Heartbreak, cheating, Angst, Asshole Loki, Slight asshole reader(not much though just her being angry and heart broken), Ares being a bitch but a lovesick fool, Your name in this is Aphrodite and it’s said a lot but it’s supposed to be you, mentions of seduction and manipulating

Disclaimer: GIFS are not mine! Pictures are not mine! Marvel is not mine! The Marvel characters are not mine! The First Moodboard is not mine! The First chapter and the idea of the series was not mine! The First Moodboard, the First chapter and the idea for it all belongs to @buckysmischief!

A/n: Hi!! So this series is all based off of @buckysmischief's one shot " A Prophecy Fulfilled." And I just loved it so much and really wanted to make it a series. As well as I like to think the time zone is back in B.C time era in Greece where Greek gods was the religion back then. Anywhooo, I hope all of you like thisss!!! I have great ideas for where this could go!

Summary:

@buckysmischief​‘s Summary;

The journey to finding your true love is said to be long and difficult- well then it’s a good thing you’re Aphrodite, the goddess of love. You might know their names, but their stories are very different. Will it end in love, or will it be just another Greek tragedy? Or that one time Hades thought he could pull one over on the Goddess of Love.

Which gods are who list -> Here (List made by @buckysmischief)

Which gods are who list(Same list but with more people) -> Here

Chapter One (Chapter made by @buckysmischief)

-

“ Your like, a goddess.” Another, Lovesick mortal said as Aphrodite smiled sweetly at him before picking up her small white shawl flung over the chair and left. Just like she was never there. Leaving yet another mortal with memories of her, of the one night they shared together. A night they will never relive as she disappears.

It was 4 weeks since she disappeared from Olympus, since anybody has seen her. She disappeared two weeks after she found Hades with a nymph. Now she wondered the mortals world, luring the weaker men into bed and then leaving them, lovesick and wishing for just one more night. She was so heart broken that she even went after the men who had wives. Wanting someone else to feel the pain she felt. Feeling the same heart broken feelings she had to feel.

She had a routine now. She wondered around, not really staying within one place. And once a night, she would go out, meet a nice man and lure him to bed. Whether he was married or not.

There were events that led up to Aphrodite’s disappearance. That made her choose the decision to leave and live among mortals. Praying and seducing the weaker willed men, using them as she pleased. She hoped maybe that would heal her heart that was broken by Hades.

He tried to make her listen, tried to explain himself. But all he had done was make it worse.

-

Two Days After the Party

“ Dite, please listen to me.” Hades spoke softly, trying to gain her attention. Something Aphrodite would always easily give to him. But now, she wouldn’t give it. She would not give him the satisfaction. It was two days after the party, after the incident, and she made her way to the underworld being taken there by Pietro. Who stood to the side for when it was time to take off. The goddess was only there to get the things she had there. It was few things but they were things she wanted and needed. She tried to sneak in and out but Hades knew. Hades knew she would be there. So he tried, he tried to make her listen, but she wouldn’t, she would not give him that when he just torn her apart in only one night and one glance.

Everything happened so quick. Her heart shattered then she was taken away by Scott. That night she sat on Scott’s bed while Scott held her trying his best to comfort the broken goddess while she just stared at the floor trying to comprehend everything. Loki, her Loki, cheating with a nymph. She was angry, and everyone knows when Aphrodite gets angry no one wins. Love and beauty is everything she is, so seeing anger was rare. Only seen when she was jealous or right now, feeling the devastation of being, cheated on. But not only was she seeing anger, she felt so so sad and empty. And she hated it, she never felt this way. No one dared to ever make her feel like that. Aphrodite is the goddess that is filled with love and so so beautiful, no one dared to make her feel otherwise. To make her feel empty and like she was just something that could be easily discarded.

And she’d be damned if she were to let the man who made her feel this way to get what he wanted. Which at the moment, was her attention. So she ignored him while she picked up her things. And it was oh so hard, she so badly wanted to look at him. See that long black silky hair of his and those green eyes she’d fallen in love with. The eyes you now compared to as a black hole that you fell into.

“ Dite, look at me.” She continued to ignore him.

“ Dite, listen to me. Look at me.” She didn’t move at all, the only movement she made was continuing to pack up her belongings.

“ Aphrodite! I said to look at me!” She spun around and looked at him, and Hades knew he made a mistake right then and there. He could see the angry flames in her eyes, how the anger was trying to not creep up onto her facial features, and he didn’t miss the tears that were welling up.

All she said was, “ No..”

It was a single word but it was enough, enough to make Loki see that he can’t tell her to do anything. Not anymore. Because she wasn’t his anymore. Because he fucked up. But he needed to try when he saw her turn away from him once more finally grabbing everything and walking right pass him and asking Pietro to take her away from there.

-

2 Weeks After Visit at Underworld

“ What do you think your doing there Hades.” Scott said, seeing Hades banging on Aphrodite’s door obviously trying to get her to open it and listen to him. He could hear how Hades sounded so, desperate. And Scott felt a little bad. But then he remembered what he did to deserve such treatment from her. His little goddess.

Loki looked at him, and Scott could see how the situation was taking it’s toll on the god. His hair was knotted and he could see the bags under his eyes. His outfit entire was perfect as always but if you really looked and observed you could see two buttons of his white button up where unbuttoned and his pants had wrinkles. It had been two weeks since she had been in the underworld and grabbed her belongings. He didn’t try anything after than night for a week an a half. And now he was here, at her home once again. Either being dragged away by Pietro, or one of the other gods and surprisingly even Ares at one point in time. It had been 4 days of him trying, coming to Olympus, coming to her home.

“ Little Brother, I’m not in the mood to deal with your insolence.” He spoke, harsh but Scott could hear the tiredness in his voice.

“ I don’t think you should be here Hades.”

“ Well that’s not your place to tell me that. Is it?”

“ Well as the one who had to comfort her after you cheated on her then I say I have a right to tell you to leave her the fuck alone before I throw you in the god damn ocean.”

“ Little brother, you are messing with the wrong god.” Loki said turning around slowly.

“ No brother, I think you are the one messing with the wrong god.” Scott spoke, as both brother’s slowly made their ways to each other. Both in their faces as they continue to make jabs at one another. Loki, trying to intimidate the younger god while Scott tried his best to be the most annoying hoping the god will just give up and leave the goddess alone. But little did they know, she had cracked open the door just a little bit to peak and hear the conversation outside going on outside. And that's when she heard Scott say, “ You don’t love her Hades, we all know it and see it. You only use her to have a pretty thing on your arm and a pussy to fuck. How many times have you cheated on her while she was away? How many times Hades?”

“ That is none of your business.”

“ How many times Hades?”

“ I said, It’s none of your business.”

“ Then you won’t have a problem telling her right? Why don’t I go knock on the door right now and you can go tell her. Because it is her business.”

“ Poseidon, you are testing my patience.”

“ So you’d rather tell her I see?”

Loki was cornered, he felt cornered, he couldn’t tell her,“ It was more than once, happy?”

“ How many?”

“ Poseidon.”

“ How many times Hades?”

“ It wasn’t as many times as you think.” He said quietly.

“ Hades?”

“ It was more than 4 times. Either with the Nymph girl or another. I just felt so lonely without her, so I found warmth with another. I needed t-”  A small gasp left her lips as the small noise stopped Loki from speaking. Knowing he was caught saying words he didn’t want to speak to her. Scott slowly looked up at her at that moment. A sad, sympathetic look on his face as he looked at her. Loki looked around to see what Scott was looking at when he saw her, the absolute sorrow in her eyes. But he could see the fiery anger making its way onto her face. He was quick to start walking toward the goddess and this time she didn’t move away. He took her hands in his, staring at them as if he knew he would never be able to feel her hands in his ever again. And, he did. He knew he’d never have what again what they once had. 

“ Aphrodite, listen. It wasn’t that many times Sweetheart. I need you.” She did nothing but stare as Loki tried to explain himself, poorly. As she already heard his words, already heard those words that just stabbed into her heart and broke it even further.

“ Aphrodite, look. It meant nothing with them. It meant nothing. I didn’t feel anything. I always thought of you.” She continued to stare.

“ Please di-”

“ Do not call me Dite.” You said finally, yanking your hands from his.

“ You have sacrificed your right to use that name.” Loki stared at you, his need to be strong overpowering his need to be gentle. To lead her back to him.

“ I didn’t sacrifice anything. You are mine, we are meant to b-”

“ No we are not. Not anymore.” And Loki could see the tears starting to well up. Most people haven’t seen her rage. Aphrodite is a force to be reckon with when angry. Aphrodite was known for jealous rages. She would tear you down till you couldn’t get back up, make you feel as though you were inferior to her. She was the goddess of beauty, the goddess of love and sexual pleasure. If anyone made her feel like she wasn’t, made her feel like she was the opposite. That someone could just get someone else compared to her. A reason why jealousy was an emotion she held onto strongly. Because she is the image of beauty. And no one, could tell her otherwise, make her feel otherwise without feeling the backlash. She glared, trying her best not to lash out at the god before she quickly turned around and entered her home once again, locking the door behind her. And that was the last anyone saw of her at Olympus, disappearing  that night. Nobody knowing where she had went except that she would be living among mortals. Some say she was hiding, some say she wanted to take her anger out on the mortals. But nobody knew the true reason why she decided to live among the mortals. Why she left that night and not earlier. The only one to know, was her. 

#greek gods #Aphrodite #ares #hades #marvel #loki #bucky #bucky barnes #james barnes #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #natasha romanoff #wanda #scott lang #thor #reader #x reader #loki x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda x reader #scott lang x reader #thor x reader #do not want a lawsuit

[jacksgreysays]

Author's Cut Questions 3, 4, & 14 for Hail to the Queen Uzushio remix or Family by Mother Mother for (They Call It) Soulless?

3 - What's your favorite line of narration? 4 - What's your favorite line of dialogue? 14 - Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Hail to the Queen, Uzushio remix

Favorite dialogue is definitely Kankurou's response to Shikako's question on what he's going to do after he's handed off responsibility of the Sand intel nin:

"Whatever I want? There's sand and there's sun. So it's kind of like home, except no one is bugging me to do anything."

I think mostly its because I just love writing Kankurou so much! He's got this... wry irrelevance, almost, that is sort of but not really earned? Maybe its because I hang out with/am a theater person but they're really kind of just Like That and it's great. It's such an incongruous personality in a world filled with superpowered ninja. Like. A lot of time, I write Shikako as irrelevant because in the situations I put her in, she just is that powerful despite constantly getting underestimated, so she really can do whatever she wants.

Kankurou does not have that kind of power to back up his sass. But he still does it anyway? It probably has to do with growing up with Gaara pre-heel-face turn so now his fear response is busted as shit and only registers active, massive threats. But even then, he'll probably still complain about it. What a nerd. He's great.

Favorite narration... hm... maybe:

Shikako does not nod at this. This is a bonkers way to choose a leader. Then again, Uzushio is weird enough that this might not actually be a joke.

And that's mostly because it connects to the question, if I wanted readers to learn anything from this fic, which is primarily that I have so many Uzushio feels. So many. But a lot of them are contradictory almost, so this fic was a great way to explore various options of how Uzushio would choose an Uzukage (if they even have a "kage" at all).

I know Uzushio, even the one that I headcanon, wasn't a perfect utopia. What little scraps of canon we do have about it make that impossible. Uzumaki were known for their longevity, "special chakra," and their ability to make chakra weapons. Some enterprising individual managed to make a mask that could summon the god of death. They're known for being sealing masters including but not limited to capturing and imprisoning sentient giant chakra monsters.

The role of Kage in other nations is passed along via power. For some its bloodlines, others its a series of usurpations. Konoha has the arguably least problematic of the bunch being a non-explicit teacher-student almost bloodline thing (3 out of 5 were Senju and none were Uchiha) chosen either by the preceding Hokage or by a small council of elders. Least problematic isn't really saying much.

Largely, I just like to think of Uzushio through different lenses. It could be a society entirely of scholars with a truly wild scope of subjects available (I didn't put it in the fic, but Tatsuma is the head of the elemental manipulation department). Or a voyaging society that just upped and left. Or a conglomeration of clans with weird bloodlines that were only held in check by the Uzumaki clan's general effectiveness.

I once considered running an RPG borrowing loosely from Dusk City Outlaws. It would've been called Dusk of Uzushio and followed shinobi in the last few months before whatever destroyed them. In that, Uzushio was largely insular. Their greatest international ally wasn't Konoha but Tea Country because most of their contracts came from them to bodyguard/escort merchant vessels and/or sabotage enemy merchant vessels. I mean, yes, they were still allied with Konoha and amongst the shinobi villages they were closest, but the Uzushio in that was largely like: the continent sucks, Mist is a self-cannibalizing mess, Tea Country is full of criminals but they're organized and pay well.

Even then none of those societies would necessarily want power to be the main criteria of choosing a leader. It's intelligence or diplomacy or shrewdness or actual leadership. I dunno. It's a bit of a muddle. Just, all of my messy Uzushio feels.

---

Family by Mother Mother for (They Call It) Soulless

There's not much dialogue in this one, so I guess by default my favorite line is:

"Together... My parents will be together. If not here, then elsewhere"

Mostly because it's almost literally the premise of Pre!Kako (which is the basis of (They Call It) Soulless) if you think about it in a not just romantic but also devoted sort of way and thus all the more tragic for it. Shikaku and Yoshino got together in spite of the Nara clan's protest. They stayed together even when their baby was screaming her head off and the Kinokawas wanted her to go to Danzo. They made a life for each other and prioritized their little family's happiness above all else and that's beautiful.

So to split them in death would not only be sad, but cruel. Actively vicious and malicious and almost violent.

And so Kako deciding to keep their priorities--even though, probably, that Nara uncle might have offered some kind of deal where the Nara would help with the Kinokawa siblings' living expenses if she signed away Shikaku's remains to be with the clan without Yoshino--is definitely not the most practical decision, but it is the best way to honor their memory. And that's all Kamaru will have of them. T_T

My favorite line of narration is probably:

[[Genma is a mess after the Kyuubi.]]

Many are, unsurprisingly. Loss abounds.

Mostly because I know I have a problem with run on sentences and grammar/punctuation. I find a lot of my writing is verbal almost--maybe not all that surprising considering my main contribution to the DoS fandom and, I guess, my previously mentioned sort of experience with theater--even though I'm not that good at dialogue

I talk out loud when I write and if it doesn't sound right, then I'll readjust it until it makes sense when I speak. And then I sprinkle in punctuation kind of however I please. Not often in the correct place. So I end up with run on sentences mixed with fragments and no real proper sentences.

Anyways, the reason why I like this particular line of narration is because it would be metal AF to have a line like this in a play. Five words. Two sentences. Punch in the face. THERE HAS BEEN A TRAGEDY AND EVERYONE IS AFFECTED. It's the kind of line in a play that would have a beat of silence after to let it sit before the next line stumbles away quickly as if to distance itself from the impact.

Loss abounds. So clean! So concise! I will never be able to replicate this!

Also, its a fun sort of paradox. An abundance of loss. There is too much absence! Like saying "I'm very good at fucking up." There's probably a literary term for this but I have no idea ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hm... I don't know if there was anything in particular I wanted readers to learn from this... 

~

A/N: Thanks for the ask, anon! It was fun to look back at those ficlets and writhe around in my Uzushio feels. :)

Ask Box Advent Calendar 2020

#jacksgreyson #anonymous #ask box advent calendar #ask box author's cut #prompt response #fanfiction #dreaming of sunshine #naruto #Sabaku no Kankurou #shikako nara #uzushio #hail to the queen #(they call it) soulless

[petertingle-yipyip]

Selfish - Peter Parker

Part Two : Stained Glass

// Selfish // Highly requested by those tagged below and 4 anons//

// Tags: @josiemara @dylanstilinskiposts @just-a-sad-chicken-nugget-xxx @throughparisallthroughrome​ @tomhollandssecurityguard // Warnings: Angst, language, small altercation, crying//

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 6,110

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has revealed herself to be Y/N Stark. But in an effort to get Y/N to reveal her alter ego, Heretic, Peter exposes himself as Spiderman. Knowing her hatred of heroes, can Y/N and Peter mend their relationship? Can Y/N bond with her dad, Tony? Will the Stained Glass of their relationship lead to something beautiful or a tragedy?

Despite everything you were feeling, the pain and the mistrust, you put on a happy face for your mom and at school. You didn’t tell her how the conversation ended with Tony and Peter the week before. When you came out of your room with red, puffy eyes, you told her that it was because you weren’t sure what was the right thing to do. You told her that you felt lost, that you wanted to look within yourself and trust your heart. But your heart was too busy fighting itself to be of any help to your head.

After the shocking discovery of Peter’s alter ego, you hung up your mask and all of your Heretic activities. You flushed your serums down the toilet, dismantled your vocal manipulator, and crushed the neurotransmitter on the knives. You threw the soundproof boots in the back of your closet and shoved the suit deep under your bed. The only thing you kept within reach was the knives themselves, just in case something dangerous happened in your apartment. It was highly unlikely but you wanted to be prepared.

At school, you pretended as if nothing happened. You were able to lift your slightly slipping grades since you had time to actually study the topics outside of class. You laughed more, joked more. Things weren’t as heavy as they were when you started Heretic. But one thing that couldn’t go back to normal was your relationship with Peter.

“Y/N, are you coming to my party this weekend?” Liz asked after decathlon. “I think Peter said he was gonna go.”

“I think I have to spend this weekend with my dad.” You sighed. “I have to check with my mom if it’s this weekend or next. But if I’m free, I will definitely be there!”

“Yay!” She smiled, hugging you quickly before striding away with her friends. MJ soon replaced Liz in front of you.

“You’re being weird.” She said simply.

“Things have been weird lately.” You shrugged, blowing out a long sigh. “With my dad being back and-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” She cut in.

“What’s the issue then?”

“You and Peter…” She tried as if it was obvious.

“We had a fight.” You laughed dismissively. “I was freaked about my dad and I took it out on him. We’re good though. We talked about it and everything is fine.”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“MJ, everything is fine. Stop worrying.”

She huffed in annoyance, figuring the conversation wouldn’t go anywhere. She shook her head in disappointment, having to refrain from rolling her eyes. She knew you were lying. She was surprised no one else had picked up on it. It was obvious that something had changed between you and Peter, but MJ decided she wasn’t going to bring it up again.

Nights seemed longer when you stayed in the house. You had sworn off Heretic, knowing that falling back into it wouldn’t be good for you. You woke often in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep for hours after that. You would climb onto your fire escape, curled in a blanket and wondering if you’d see Peter swing by. Some nights you would even fall asleep on the fire escape, waking up only when the sun was shining in your eyes.

You had stopped answering Peter’s texts and calls for the time being. You tried to convince yourself that it was nothing personal against Peter. It was simply your anger at Spiderman. But in that argument, you always circled back to the fact that Peter was Spiderman.

lover boy🥵❤️: did you do the physics work?😷

-

lover boy🥵❤️: ice cream after school? my treat :)

-

lover boy🥵❤️: little old lady bought me a churro today. lover boy🥵❤️: she was nice :)

-

peter🥵❤️: please call me

-

peter: y/n? spiderman: is this cuz 🕷🕷 parker: ????? parker: :( parker🕷: is this your way of breaking up w me??? please say it isn’t :(

You tried simply ignoring his messages, but seeing his name popping up only made it harder to resist. You had resorted to changing his name in your contacts, from lover boy to peter to spiderman. You had finally landed on parker, deciding that would remind you that you were upset with him.

You had also been receiving messages from your dad. You ignored those too, but soon your mom started to get involved.

tony🙄: Cap’s coming back from a mission today. You and your mom want to come meet him?

tony🙄: How does LA sound for this weekend? You can bring your mom too

tony🙄: You can’t ignore me or Peter forever, kid.

You were sitting with your friends at lunch at your usual table. Ned and Betty sat opposite of you, MJ, and Peter. You were beside Peter, your head leaning on his shoulder and your hands intertwined under the table. You knew it would only confuse Peter to act one way in public and a different way when you were by yourself. You knew it was wrong and unfair, but your heart still yearned for him. At school, you only knew him as Peter, so it was easy to forget it all.

Peter was in a bind. You ignored him outside of school, but you would act as if nothing happened when the bell rang. You’d act as if everything was fine. You held his hand, hugged him, kissed him and talked to him as if everything was normal. Peter wasn’t stupid. He knew it was only an act in public, a way to avoid explaining the situation to your friends.

Peter wanted to be okay with it. He wanted to be able to sleep at night knowing it was for his own good. It kept both of your secrets after all.

But it still felt wrong. Deep down it hurt to know that you were only showing him the affection he had grown used to as an act. He knew you were hurting, processing an insanely unlikely scenario. He knew it shook you to your core to know the boy you were in love with had a secret life that had intertwined with yours. And not in a positive way.

He knew it was hard to accept that the boy you loved was a hero, working with the father you didn’t claim. The father you didn’t care to know. But after all, despite everything, Peter didn’t have it in him to resist. He enjoyed your touch, your voice. Even if it was an elaborate ruse, he just enjoyed your company.

“You two are so cute!” Betty commented from her place beside Ned. “I swear you two are always so happy.”

“Who wouldn’t be happy with Peter?” You smiled, glancing up at him.

“Yeah, well.” He smiled with a playful shrug. “Guess I’m just lucky to have her.”

“You’re damn right you’re lucky.” Flash commented, plopping himself down beside you. “How does Y/N Y/L/N get stuck with you?”

“Why must you interrupt my lunch?” You sighed, lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder to glare at your classmate.

“All I’m saying is that you could do better than Penis Parker.” Flash defended, his hands up in mock surrender.

“Don’t you have Spiderman fanfiction to write?” MJ asked plainly, leaning around Peter to see Flash’s reaction.

“I don’t write fanfiction!” He argued quickly, and too loud for the quiet cafeteria.

You bit back your laughter as the boy stomped away. He moved to smack the back of Peter’s neck, but you put your hand in the way. Flash ended up smacking the back of your hand, but you decided to make a scene, if only to prove a point and embarrass the bully even further.

“What the hell, Flash?” You announced, putting your hand behind your neck to make it more convincing.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed in a panic. “I meant to hit Parker. I am so sorry!”

“You just smacked my fucking neck!” You stood from your place beside Peter, glaring at the panicked boy in front of you. “Are you serious?”

“Why did you hit her?” Betty joined in.

“Not cool, dude!” Ned egged the situation on, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I was trying to hit Parker!” Flash defended.

“That doesn’t make it any better!” You shouted. You could hear the mumbles throughout the cafeteria, some wondering if you would hit Flash back or if you were going to chew him out in front of everyone. Both options were tempting, but you didn’t know what you were really going for. “You can’t walk around campus hitting people!”

“I would run if I was you.” MJ told Flash, giving him a thumbs up that quickly turned to the middle finger.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.” He reached out his hands, as if to take you in an embrace.

Without thinking, you knocked one hand away before twisting the other one outwards. You kicked out a knee and pinned his arm behind his back. You took his backpack and flipped it over his head so it was on his chest. You pushed him forward before crossing your arms over your chest.

“I told you to run.” MJ said with a shrug. The rest of the cafeteria burst out in applause, hoots and hollers of approval once Flash hit the ground. He fumbled to get back on his feet, momentarily stuck in his backpack. You were backing away to retake your seat beside Peter, biting your lower lip to keep back your laughter.

“Y/L/N!” You heard Mr. Dell yell at you before you could get back to your seat. You sighed before grabbing your backpack. You pressed a quick kiss to Peter’s cheek without thinking and followed Mr. Dell down the hall.

The small kiss only confused Peter more. You didn’t have to do that. Everything seemed normal that day. Your friends were unsuspecting of any tension between you two. He watched you go, a longing look in his eyes. He sighed to himself, wondering how he could fix things between you two.

“You okay, Peter?” Betty asked softly, drawing her friends attention back to the group.

“What?” Peter said quickly, his head snapping back. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just a little… shocked.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know Y/N had that in her.” Ned gushed. “Where did she learn to do that?”

“She’s been taking self defense classes.” MJ shrugged.

“She has?” Peter brows furrowed, but then he realized she probably took them so she could fight back as Heretic.

“You seriously didn’t know?” She chuckled hesitantly. It wasn’t like Y/N to have kept that a secret from Peter.

“She does self defense and softball? And she has great grades here?” Betty gaped, her eyes wide as she thought about it. “Wow. Her college applications are going to look amazing.”

You sat in the principal’s office, slouched in the stiff chair. You let your head hang over the back, waiting for the principal to return from the secretary’s office. He went to find your file so he could get your mother’s number, even though you offered to give him her work number.

“Your mother isn’t able to come get you.” Principal Morita announced when he entered his office again.

“I told you that she was busy at work.” You shrugged. “I guess it’s detention then?”

“No, she gave me the number of your father. He’s coming to get you.”

“You did not call my dad.” You groaned, covering your face with both hands. 

“You gave me no choice, Y/N. Laying hands on another student-”

“He hit me first!” You defended quickly.

“Regardless, you were the one who escala-”

“I escalated it?” You snapped. You weren’t necessarily mad at the situation. You were annoyed that you were getting in trouble but Flash wasn’t, but not enough for you to yell at your principal. “Flash has been bullying Peter since middle school but no one on this godforsaken campus does anything about it. Why? Cause his dad funds some of the programs? That’s not fair.”

“Y/N, please calm down.”

“No, I will not calm down.” You continued, quickly getting to your feet. “I am not the only one who was involved in that fight. Flash started it and I finished it. But if I am the only one getting in trouble then there is something seriously wrong with this disciplinary system. Not to mention, that by punishing the female student that was involved in a physical altercation with a male student could potentially send the wrong message about the values of the school.”

“I assure you, Y/N, that we take any sort of assault on students very seriously.”

“Then why aren’t you calling Flash in?” You challenged plainly. “Call in Flash Thompson and I will stop arguing.”

“Holy cow.” Morita said in soft amazement as his attention shifted from your heated words to the door. “Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I- I didn’t know that you were Y/N’s father.”

You groaned in embarrassment, the fuel to your rant now gone. You slumped into the chair, pulling your backpack into your lap and using it to hide behind. You peaked up from behind it, only to find Tony looking at you expectantly. You were mildly surprised that he actually showed up, but even more shocked when he didn’t seem angry about it.

“Fill me in.” He nodded, pointing between you and your principal. “What happened?”

“The kid that always bullies Peter went to smack him but smacked me instead. I pushed him to the ground - and embarrassed him in front of everyone - but there’s only one kid in this office.” You muttered from behind your backpack. “And it’s not even the kid that started it, might I add.”

“Two kids were involved. Why is she the only one here?” Tony asked, pointing at you.

“Well, I- One of our faculty only saw-”

“Only saw my kid?” Tony questioned. You felt an odd pride in your chest when he called you his kid, but you buried it quickly. You were still supposed to be upset with him and Peter, but you didn’t know if you were upset anymore. You couldn’t quite name what you were feeling and you hated it. “Hmm. So, what? Suspension? She has to write ‘I will not push people’ a hundred times?”

“The usual punishment for- for putting hands on another student is a week suspension. But seeing as this is Y/N’s first offense, and she’s really a top notch student - which is no surprise seeing who her family is.” Morita gushed, still in awe with your dad being there. “I suppose we can just send her home today and then detention for the rest of the week.”

“That’s not gonna work.” Tony shook his head.

“It’s not?” You asked from your chair. “What’s wrong with that?”

“She works at Stark Industries with Peter right after school. She can’t be in detention.” Tony looked down at you and shot you a quick wink. You smiled slightly, turning to see your principal’s reaction.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark but that’s the best I can do. I’m already-”

“You’re not gonna talk to the other one so why even bother with her?” Tony reasoned. “Let her off with a warning and call it a day. Everyone’s happy.”

Morita sighed slightly before nodding. “She’ll be sent home today. If she does this again, we’ll have to take more assertive action.”

“Fair enough.” You shrugged.

Tony led you out of your school and to his car. Luckily, no one was in the halls. Neither of you spoke until you reached the car, driving in the opposite direction of your apartment. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, pulling it out you saw it was Peter.

parker🕷: everything okay?? parker🕷: i really need to talk to you parker🕷: please :( parker🕷: ik your probably still upset about 🕷 but idk where we stand anymore and if we’re even together anymore. i love you and this feels weird and i dont like it

You sighed slightly, shoving your phone into your backpack. You thought about the spider emoji that you put by his name, hoping that it would help you normalize the fact that Peter was Spiderman. But it didn’t. If anything it just made it worse, constantly reminding you of the conversation that you had in your bedroom.

“You’re ignoring him.” Tony finally said.

“No, I’m not.” You countered.

“He just texted me saying that you’ll only talk to him at school and he thinks you’re going to break up with him.”

“You didn’t even pull your phone out.” You rolled your eyes slightly. “I’m not answering any texts at the moment so Peter isn’t special.”

“Peter isn’t special?”

“You know what I meant.” You waved him off. “I wouldn’t even know what to say to him.”

“Here.” Tony offered you his sunglasses, seemingly trying to change the subject. “Put them on.”

You took the glasses with a reluctant sigh, sliding them onto your face. “What’s so special about these?”

Just as that sentence left your mouth, they lit up like a screen. Everything you looked at was analyzed and you were shown facts about it. When you looked at Tony, you saw some notes about him. The name of his latest suit upgrade, his net worth, his birthday, his age, and his title at Stark Industries.

“Woah.” You breathed in amazement.

“You like them?” Tony smiled.

“They’re incredible.”

“These are for you, then.” Tony took his glasses off your face and handed you a case instead. You opened it to find a similar pair to Tony’s. The lenses were a bit smaller and the frame was designed differently, but the lenses had the same tint. You stared at the gift with soft appreciation.

“Tony, you didn’t have to.” You reasoned.

“Yeah, I did.” He nodded. “You’re my kid so you should have something like this.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned. You were hoping to find a reason for him to take them back, feeling that you didn’t deserve a gift from Tony. “After the way I’ve been acting, ignoring you and Peter. And I’ve been so angry since you left… I don’t deserve these.”

“Sure you do.” Tony urged. “Look, when Peter told me that someone he loved was Heretic, the boy was near tears. He kept it a secret because he didn’t want to upset you and get to a point like this.”

“My life's just a faded memory of one I can't have And everything 'round me is starting to fade into black.” You said sadly. “I can’t just go back to the way it was so everything can be normal again.”

“Your boyfriend and your dad are superheroes. There is no going back to normal.”

“Exactly.” You turned in your seat to face your dad. “I love Peter. I really do. And I think I want to have a better relationship with you. But I’m hurting and I’m confused.”

“Let me ask you something.. Peter said you act like everything is normal at school. Why?”

“So that way I don’t have to explain anything to our friends.” You answered. “It protects both of our secrets that way.”

“But you won’t talk to Peter outside of school so you don’t have to pretend?”

“I get it, alright?” You said quickly. “It’s not fair to Peter. It’s always about Peter. We have to make sure Peter is happy.”

“I’m not worried about Peter right now.” He shook his head. “He’s not my kid. You are. And I know I’m still new at this whole ‘father figure’ thing and I got a lot to make up for, but I can see that this is messing with your head. I’ve been there, when nothing feels right but you have to put on a show anyways. Trust me, kid, I get it. But I can tell you that it’s all going to catch up to you, Y/N. And when it does, it may be too late to mend those relationships. For your sake, and yes even Peter’s, you gotta open up a bit.” 

You pondered his words, digesting what he meant. It made sense. You could lose Peter if you kept this up. But you also wondered what happened to the great Tony Stark that would’ve messed with his head. You had never noticed any sort of emotional turmoil when he was in front of a camera, but you figured that was the point.

“I don’t have a lot of ‘father figure’ experience either, but you seem alright to me. At least you’re trying, you know?” You smiled softly. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Did you mean to call me Dad or was that a slip up?” He teased. “Cause you don’t have me as Dad in your phone.”

“Do you want me to change it?” You laughed.

“Yes, actually. I do.”

“Okay.” You chuckled as you pulled out your phone. The messages from Peter distracted you for a moment. 

parker🕷: have fun with your dad. i love you🖤🖤 parker🕷: call me when youre home?🥺🥺

You sent a quick reply to Peter before changing Tony’s contact name from tony to old man stark. You showed Tony the new contact with a cheesy smile before jumping into a conversation about where you were going. Tony was actually taking you to Columbia University to watch a Columbia vs. Princeton softball game. You gushed about how much you loved the sport, how you pitched for a club softball team, how you were trying to get Midtown to adopt a softball team. 

Peter was working on homework when you finally texted him back. The quick motion to grab his phone almost took him out of his computer chair. He opened his phone without hesitation, reading over the message several times.

pretty girl🤩💛: come by tonight? maybe we can talk pretty girl🤩💛: i owe u an explanation… srry😔

Peter’s heart soared. You had finally messaged him back after a week and you actually wanted to talk to him. He wanted to keep the conversation going, to not lose that interaction with you. So, he sent a message. But he instantly regretted it so he sent a couple more to try and recover.

parker🕷: of course baby. as 🕷 or 😇??? parker🕷: cause ill do either. idk who you wanna see tho parker🕷: what are you and mr stark doing today???👀

The first message Peter sent made your heart drop when you read it. It was a swift kick to the gut as a reminder that Peter had two lives. He was two different people. You tried to see them as not different people, but different sides to the same person. But it was still hard.

pretty girl🤩💛: whichever. i just wanna see u on my fire escape tonight when u get a chance… i miss u and i wanna try and fix stuff🥺 pretty girl🤩💛: hes taking me to columbia for a columbia/princeton softball game!! im so excited!!!!! text u in a bit🥎🥎

When you got home from spending the day with your dad at the game and then getting dinner at a nice restaurant, your mom was waiting for you. She asked what happened at school and why you weren’t home when she got home. She said that she wasn’t happy that you ran off with Tony without telling her.

“You wanted me to let him into my life.” You said as your defense. “Are you seriously mad at me for spending a day with my dad?”

“When you were pulled out of school for assaulting another student, yes. I am mad.” She said firmly.

“Flash hit me, Mom.” You explained carefully. “He tried to hit Peter, but he hit me.”

“That’s not what Principal Morita told me.”

“Who do you really believe?” You waited for a response, but she simply crossed her arms. “You know what, you’re right.” You chuckled in annoyance. “Next time, I’ll just let the boy hit me.”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N, and you know it.” She said firmly.

“Well, what do you mean then!?” You threw your arms out in front of you. “Dad and Peter were the only ones on my side today. Morita thought I was just starting a fight and so do you. You were the one who wanted me to be able to defend myself, to stand up for myself. And when I do, I get penalized in my own home.”

Before letting your mom answer, you went into your room. You let out a deep sigh before changing into pajamas. You hung up the shirt your dad got you from the game and gathered some homework supplies. You took your laptop, phone, Chemistry textbook, your notebook, and your pencil pouch with you on your fire escape. You played your music softly, bobbing your head as you typed notes and solved the equations in your notebook.

You waited for Peter to show up, but you were on your fire escape for a couple hours after your work was done. You had put all your school supplies away, leaving you and your phone wrapped in a blanket outside. It was just past midnight when you gave up. You were pulling out your phone to text Peter when he landed beside you on the fire escape.

“Hey.” He said from behind the mask. You realized his voice sounded different than it did last time you had talked to him in his suit. This time you could tell it was his voice. “Sorry, got caught up with a bank robbery.”

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, gathering your blanket to stand.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He shrugged. “Did you have fun with Mr. Stark?”

“It was really great, yeah.” You smiled. “Your voice sounds different… When we would fight and you were in your suit, you didn’t sound like you.”

“Yeah, there was a program that would make my voice sound different. But I turned it off on my way over.”

“Oh.” You nodded slightly. “Can you come inside or are you on a schedule?”

“I’m all yours for the rest of the night.”

You crawled inside first, Peter right behind you. He helped you collect your blanket and you two stood in the middle of your room. You tossed your massive blanket aside, placing your hands on your lower back. Peter fiddled with his fingers, unsure of what to do and what to say.

“Can you… Can you take off the mask?” You gestured to his face and Peter slowly took off the fabric.

You admired him for a moment, watching the way his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of your room. His curls were messy, slightly sweaty and out of place. His cheeks were flushed, his lips pressed into a fine line. It was like the first time seeing Peter.

“Say something, please.” Peter said softly, almost pleading.

“Your hair looks cute when it’s messy.” You tried.

“That’s not what I meant.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s a lot to take in, I guess.” Your eyes scanned Peter’s figure in the suit, a familiar desire to be close to Peter blossoming in your chest. “You look good though.”

“Y/N-” He tried again.

You shut him up quickly with a kiss. Your lips met his before he could say another word, your hands sliding up his chest to their place at the nape of his neck. His hands were on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His grip on your hips was tighter than usual but you weren’t complaining. You pulled him down to your height, drawing a small chuckle from him.

“Not that I’m complaining.” He said with a smile when he pulled away. He looked down at you with a soft expression. A content feeling filled his chest. He was elated to be so close to you again. Things felt right when you were close, as if there wasn’t a seemingly growing divide between you two. “But we both know why you asked me to come by tonight. Say something, please.”

“Lately, I’m counting the words that I haven’t said.” You admitted with a sad sigh, walking away from Peter to sit on your bed. Peter turned to watch you go, not sure if you wanted him to follow. Part of you did, but part of you still wanted to kick him out and never have to see him in the suit ever again. “My heart’s so heavy, it’s ready to fall out twice.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He took a quick step closer, his hands out in front. He wanted to reach for you. He wanted to hold your hands and pull you into his chest for a hug. But the pain in your voice, the sadness your words held, it kept him at a distance. “I wanted to tell you sooner. I just- I- I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Is this any better?” You scoffed. You felt the back of your eyes burn, hot tears threatening to fall. But you swallowed hard, keeping the pain inside. It wasn’t fair to take it out on Peter, but you were still upset with him. “Is this honestly any better?”

“I was wrong. I know that.” He tried desperately. “Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

“You can’t just fix this, Peter! That’s what you don’t seem to get.” You snapped loudly. You paused, waiting to hear if it woke up your mom. When no noise came from down the hall, you kept going. “I understand why you didn’t tell me… I really do. But I need you to understand where I’m coming from.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.” You shook your head, closing your eyes to try to keep your voice level. “I grew up despising superheroes because I felt like I was abandoned by one. I grew up with the idea that superheroes were an act, a facade put on by men with God complexes to get the admiration they craved. Then suddenly, my dad wants to actually be a dad. Great. I’m actually enjoying having him in my life. But to make matters worse, my boyfriend turns out to be the hero that I’ve been going up against for weeks. Peter, I’ve stabbed you and I’ve thrown you off a building!”

“But I’m fine!” He countered. You threw your hands up in annoyance, disappointed that Peter seemed to miss the whole point of what you were saying.

“I can see that, but I’m not!” You urged. “Part of me wants to hate you… I don’t, but part of me wants to.”

“Because you hate Spiderman…”

You nodded silently. You didn’t even want to admit that you did. You weren’t even sure if that was necessarily the truth. But it was the best word you had for the feeling you got when you thought of Spiderman.

“But you don’t hate Peter… Right?”

“Peter, I love you more than anything. I need you to know that above all else, I love you.” You jumped up from your bed, taking his hands in yours. His eyes dropped, closing tightly. A small tear slipped through his closed lids, and the sight nearly broke you. “I really do love you and I’m trying. I’m really trying cause I know you don’t deserve this.”

“I don’t want to pressure you, but I just can’t take it. Whatever it is we’re doing right now…” Peter said tightly. You could tell it was taking everything he had to not fall apart right in front of you.

“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, backing away and letting your grip on his hands slip away.

“I love you, Y/N. But I can’t sit here and pretend to be okay with this. You act one way at school in front of our friends. You’ll act like everything is fine and then you turn around and ignore me.”

“Would you rather me ignore you completely?” You scoffed. “If  I ignore you completely, someone is gonna ask what’s wrong. Then how am I going to explain this one? How do I explain that my boyfriend is actually Spiderman and I’m fighting myself over what to do next?”

“I’d rather you not ignore me at all… If you need space to figure this out, I get it. But just say that’s what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t know what I need in the long run. I just need you tonight… I need Peter tonight.”

“Peter and Spiderman are the same person, baby. I need you to need both.”

“I can’t… Not right now.”

Peter took the few steps to close the distance. He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. He sighed slightly, backing towards your window. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said sadly.

“Wait!” You called, stopping him on your fire escape. He pulled down his mask and turned to you, waiting for your next few words. “You’re not gonna stay?” His silence was enough of an answer for you. “Are we gonna be okay?”

“You need time to figure it out…”

“Are you breaking up with me?” You were silently pleading that he wasn’t. You didn’t think you could take it if you lost him. Not over this.

“I’m giving you the space you need.” He said before disappearing.

You didn’t sleep that night. You stayed up, pacing and crying. You pulled your knives out from under your bed and shoved them back multiple times, not knowing what to do with the newfound pain in your chest. You wanted to default to what you had done, covering your face and taking out your pain in small acts that couldn’t be traced back to you. You wanted to go out and pick a fight, find a physical distraction to clear your muggy thoughts, if only for a few minutes at a time. But you knew you couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You had sworn off Heretic. She had caused you more harm than good at the end of the day.

No, you couldn’t dawn that mask again. You couldn’t pick up those knives again. Instead, you paced. You cried. You blamed yourself. You dialed Peter, then hung up after one ring. You dialed Tony, but hung up when you realized it was three in the morning. You sat on your fire escape, laying down and staring at the sky. You tried to settle yourself. You tried to collect your thoughts and rationalize them. But you didn’t know where to start.

It was stupid to let yourself lose Peter because of your vendetta against heroes. You were trying to work through it, to put it in the past and allow yourself to see past the masks, and you were willing to look past it so you could have your dad in your life. It was starting to become easier to be around your dad, but maybe that was because you only interacted with him as Tony. You never talked to him as Iron Man.

That was when you realized the difference. It wasn’t because you had found out Peter was Spiderman. It wasn’t because he kept it hidden from you, and you had done terrible things to him without thinking twice about it. It was because you knew Peter, you loved Peter, but you had a different relationship with Spiderman. You were at odds with Spiderman, not quite enemies but no where near friends. You were trying to merge two relationships that were polar opposites. You couldn’t keep it separate any longer, but you couldn’t mesh them so easily. It was going to take time, maybe some sort of grand gesture.

When the sun started shining, you climbed back into your room. You saw the dark circles under your eyes, weighing heavy on your facial features. You wiped the exhaustion from your face before gathering clothes for a cold shower. You got yourself ready, covering all signs of your internal crisis. Your dad had called you back so you explained everything to him. He offered for you to come to the tower after school, suggesting that the distraction could be exactly what you needed. You braced yourself for seeing Peter at school.

The thought was terrifying. You had no idea how Peter would act when he saw you. Would things be normal? Would he do what you did and pretend that there were no issues? Or would he run? Would he avoid you so he didn’t have to pretend, in essence leaving you to explain to your nosy - but well intended - friends why Peter wasn’t around?

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter x reader #spider man imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman fanfic #peter fanfic

[pandoraborn]

17 - I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. || wrongfully accused. ||

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

Back at Henrik’s, Marvin remains by Jackie’s bedside. He knows he should go rest and care for himself, but he can’t resist. He runs a thumb down Jackie’s cheek, taking note of his sleeping for. Jackie still hadn’t woken up properly yet, but according to Henrik, he’d stirred briefly, and was still steadily improving. He didn’t need an oxygen mask anymore, he didn’t need to be hooked up to several machines anymore, it seems as if Jackie is finally going to recover wholly. Marvin can tell that Jackie’s own healing is finally kicking in, as well.

He glances up when he hears footsteps shuffle in. He stiffens when he sees it’s Amon, but Marvin refuses to get up. “He’s okay, Amon, I’ve got him.”

“I know. I heard from Henrik and Chase. You could have told me too, you know. Considering I was just as concerned for him.”

“You’ve been giving me the silent treatment for several days, I didn’t think I’d get through to you. I have no reason to talk to you now. Now go away and let me spend time with my husband.”

“The one you abandoned, you mean,” Amon quips.

Marvin flinches. “Can we not do this in here? I don’t want Jackie to wake up to an argument.”

“Okay, so let’s go upstairs then, because I have a lot I’m finally ready to say to you.” Amon’s voice goes flat. “You do not get to tell me no, you have a lot to answer for.”

Marvin says nothing in response. He knows Amon is right, they need to have this conversation. Marvin didn’t think he’d feel so sick all over again. With a quiet sigh, he bends over to give Jackie a small forehead kiss, whispering a promise he’ll come back soon. Jackie murmurs quietly in his sleep, twitching once before going still. With that, Marvin gets up and follows Amon out of the lab and back up into the living room. The only other occupant is Erin, who’s playing on his phone.

“Can you go outside for a bit?” Amon asks politely. “Your dad and I need to talk.”

“This…” Erin starts to argue. He glances up when he sees the expressions on both their faces. “I just remembered I wanted to go see Jackie too, so. You know what? Bye.” He gets up and zooms out of the room in a hurry. 

The two men watch him leave before turning back to face each other. “Okay,” Amon says. “Talk to me. Tell me how exactly you didn’t abandon Jackie because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty damning.”

“I had no choice!” Marvin snarls, losing his temper. “I was backed into a corner, okay?”

“No choice? Damn it Marvin, this was Jackie! I’m have a really hard time not blaming you for his current condition. You have fucking magic, you could have slowed down time to grab Jackie and run. Instead you fled like a coward!” 

“You’re always going to worry about Jackie, aren’t you?” Marvin blurts. It’s inappropriate, he knows. It’s a pointless deterrent from the main conversation, it’s his own jealousy coming out. Is he even jealous of their friendship? He doesn’t know anymore. “I was held prisoner too.”

Amon storms forward, grabbing at Marvin’s wrists. He turns them over, looking at the healing bruises that still remain. “Yes, I can see that. Bruised wrists, chained to the wall, what a tragedy. So sad, definitely more important that your fucking husband who is in a coma from being tortured. You have no fucking shame, Marvin. Then you have to fucking nerve to throw this back in my face like somehow this is a ‘me’ problem.”

“You’d have done the same in my shoes! I made a split second decision to get help, and look, I found you and Chase! You can’t tell me I completely messed up.”

“I never would have left Jackie.”

“You weren’t in my shoes, Amon! You’re sitting there on some high and mighty throne, acting like you would have been all sacrificing for Jackie’s sake. You don’t think I hate myself over what happened? Of course I blame myself! Of course I’m aware Jackie’s upset with me, I’m aware you’re pissed! You fled a scene too when you needed help, when you have your own set of powers to easily defend yourself with. I would give anything for Jackie, and I am.”

“I want you to hate yourself. You deserve to feel guilty, you know why? Because Jackie’s in a coma. He could have avoided meeting Merlin at all had you thought just a little bit harder over your actions. What if Jackie had died? What if-”

“What if, what fucking if,” Marvin snaps. “You’re not married to Jackie, I am. I’ve been beating myself up for days over this, agonizing over your stupid potshots against me, feeling like the most worthless human alive every time I look at my husband! I get you would do everything for Jackie, hooray for you! Get over yourself, acknowledge Jackie has a new life that doesn’t always revolve around you, and let other people love him for once.”

Amon stares for a long minute. “I don’t expect Jackie’s life to revolve around me. I’m well aware he lives a different life now. I just want…”

“So back off me! Yes, I left him. I left to find help, and we all saved him. You kicked ass, Amon. You were there when I needed you, so drop this self righteous act and forgive me. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I left Jackie, I’m sorry every day that I left him in Jason’s hands. I’m always going to blame myself even without your judgement, so just. Back off. I already know.”

“I guess I got a little...carried away,” Amon relents. “I was so focused on Jackie’s condition, I never stopped to ask how you were doing.”

“I’m aware.” Marvin’s voice is short. “I’m traumatized, even though you didn’t ask. Watching Jason torture, poision, and kick Jackie around for two days is not my idea of fun. I close my eyes and wonder if Jackie would have died if not for Henrik. Would he have died if I wasn’t able to find help? Would he have died even if I had taken him with me, miraculously?”

“Marvin…”

“I’m furious, Amon. I’m angry and heartbroken. Because of everything I went through, the most scarring moment was hearing Jackie whisper that he doesn’t trust me anymore. I can take your pot shots, I can take your judgement, I can take everyone hating me for getting myself out of there. Jackie’s opinion is the only one who matters, and he lost his trust in me. That kills me.” He wipes his eyes, turning away. “I want to go sit by my husband’s bedside and watch over him before Henrik wakes up. If you’re done yelling at me, then I’m-”

His phone rings then, and he pulls it out of his pocket with a frown. Is Jackie calling him? No, Jackie’s asleep in the lab without a phone, Erin with him. Confused, Marvin answers. “Hello?”

“Oh, good. Marvin, it’s Vin.”

Marvin blinks as he turns his gaze back toward Amon. “Vin, why are…?”

“I’m at your apartment. Sorry for crash landing in there, but I needed to portal myself somewhere with a special someone. Where are you right now? No one’s here and I only found Jackie’s cell phone.”

“We’re at Henrik’s.” Marvin turns away to ignore Amon’s frantic gesturing. He can still hear the entity slapping at the walls, probably testing for potential portal openings. “We’re all here.”

“Okay, describe the room you’re in. Can we safely portal in?” 

Marvin’s anger is fading, replaced now with a burning curiosity over who Vin is with. Last he’d heard, Vin had been Cian’s prisoner and now he’s in Marvin’s apartment? Marvin turns back around to face Amon, who’s gesturing toward one blank wall, behind the couch. “We’re in the living room,” he begins. “There’s a couch in front of a blank wall, you can portal through it.”

“Describe the room in more detail, I need to be able to see into your head.”

“How can you do that over the phone?”

“I don’t know, I just need to picture it.”

Marvin rolls his eyes, but begins describing the living room, with as many details he can give. He barely finishes his last sentence when a bright green circle of fire appears on the wall. Both Marvin and Amon scramble back just in time for two figures to tumble through, one more gracefully than the other.

Vin is still on his feet, moving closer to Marvin to hand Jackie’s phone over. “Sorry for taking that, but I needed to call someone and you’re in his favorites.” He steps back and grabs at the second figure roughly, hauling her to her feet. “Also, we need a place to store her. I would very much like to keep her with us for a while.”

Marvin blinks, before turning to stare at Amon. Amon is staring at her with blackened eyes, looking ready to lunge at any second. He turns back to Vin, then the woman in his grasp. She, of course, is screaming and swearing angrily, thrashing in an attempt to pull herself free. Her shortened height against Vin would be hilarious in any other situation.

“Certainly,” Marvin finally says, adopting a charming grin. “Welcome to our clan, Danielle, we’re happy to have you.”

“Oh fuck off,” she snaps. “Get this lunatic away from me! Did you know he pushed me out a god damned window?”

“Oh, don’t mind her,” Vin laughs. “She’s a jokester. Now, a place?” 

Marvin sighs. “I’ll go get Jameson.” He turns and leaves the room, figuring if she was trapped with Vin and Amon both, there’s nowhere she can run to.

----

TAG LIST

 @caori-azarath @inspiredrawaw @shadowtigress2 @burnt-toast-life @lilsprout-exe @randowaffle @oasisofgalaxies @sibling-ursidae @reboosh @scarletender @alphaqwerty7 @imma-gummibear @writingandwhump @dmnfox @thebluejaysworld @immcgill @scubacatwoman @zel-lk @definitely-asexual-volcano @kami-theawkwardmess @n-anon @sleightofsight @imabinerd @elycia1805 @gutter-sun-fun @spiccykels

#whumptober2020 #no.17 #wrongfully accused #jse community #fic prompt #yelling #hurt feeling #hurt/comfort #long play #miishae writes

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy and the eternal studs

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

word count: 3158

warnings: language

As summer exams were approaching, the pressure on the students of Whitmore grew immensely. And Y/N was the one who felt it clearest of all. Each student, whether depressed, or just stressed, felt only their own weight pulling them down. Y/N had to be the anchor for all of them at once.

In the incredible fuss of early June she didn’t notice that a bunch of young people were very behind in their studies. When she finished filing out all of their graduate papers and closing documents for their rented apartments, she realized at least twenty people from the whole Whitmore did not show up for their preliminary sessions in the end of May. Three of them were missing, and the police already knew about it. A week later, after Damon had finally submitted the heads to the Mystic Falls sheriff, their identities were confirmed, and the college had a big wake for them. Their names were Sheila Bent, Christopher Harris and Taylor Whitaker. Y/N remembered them from her everyday work, and they weren’t unusual; all three, like the rest of the bodies dragged to Damon’s lawn, were Mystic Falls residents. Rebekah left the town for some time, led away by Klaus. Of course, her brother was defensive of her, aggressive, even, however, the pressure of the surviving town, the main core specifically, made it uneasy for him. Y/N was honestly baffled by how him being in love with Caroline changed his attitude. How easy it is to break you, and to manipulate you, when you’re into somebody. And how nasty it is, when this somebody is not entirely on your side.

The rest of the students, who were now in the danger of getting kicked from the college, swarmed her office for the whole first half of June; pleading, begging, crying hysterically, and throwing tantrums. Yesterdays’ mature young people transformed in an almost inexplicable way. There were some athletes among them; there was a brilliant science student Alana May, whom Y/N always liked for her reasonable attitude. All of them changed into these whining kids who did not know what to do now, that they spent half a month somewhere, and couldn’t cope with their deadlines. The situation got thousand times weirder after Y/N found that they all said one and the same thing when asked what the hell they’d been doing.

They said, we were having a party. Fifteen people from different faculties, studying different things, who have never been seen before, of different age and interests, were all having party for at least two weeks, all together.

It was Damon’s birthday, and he could not wish for anything better than investigating the college drama. Although, Y/N did not call it a drama specifically; she said it was more of a sinister mystery. Damon strongly advised her not to contact the failing students again before he gets his head in. When people go missing and then return, having completely changed their behavior, there can only be one explanation, that is – in his world. They’ve been turned.

“Ah-what?!” she yelled.

“When did they come in?” Damon asked knowingly.

“All at a different time – but in the working hours. Which are during the day”.

“Did you look for the lapis lazuli?”

“No, I did not. I’ve been more busy trying to calm down four people at a time. I don’t even have lunch these days, I have so much work”.

“God, the IT guy must miss you”.

Y/N snorted bitterly.

“Joke’s on you, Damon. He brings me coffee every morning”.

“Ew. Anyway, try something if you see any them. I’ll be there by three. Gather them all in one room and I’ll stake them”.

She pressed her fingers between her eyebrows, trying to pull the migraine out. How is she not screaming at him yet.

“You’re not going to come to Whitmore and stake fifteen people who you think are vampires”.

“I’m pretty damn sure gonna. I have a lot of things to do today”.

“Like what? Buy yourself a cake?”

Damon gasped on the other side of the line.

“What? You’re not getting me cake?”

Of course not, she thought. Cakes are traditionally on Caroline.

“Damon, you gotta have at least a picture of a plan before we do it. It’s your faint assumption. Maybe it’s something worse. Or something else. Maybe they joined a cult or something. Maybe they’ve turned into very normal human terrorists”.

“Good thinking, Y/N. Get them all together. By three”.

“Don’t you think it would make more sense to first talk to one of them if you want to check?”

Damon was silent for a moment.

“Yeah, good idea”.

He hung up.

She thought, standing by the window, as she looked out on the parking lot and the football field behind it. Why would Rebekah turn all these people? Was she bitten by the same family craving bug as Klaus once was? In what world all this turning, heads ripping stuff made any sense to her? The summer solstice was getting dangerously close, and Y/N had a bad feeling. There was always a massacre timed to a big cosmic or festive event in this god forsaken town. Every Founder’s Day – someone tries to butcher half of population. And she didn’t even want to remember the Halloween party back in 2009. Or the Perseids night four years ago. Some freak put a bunch of people inside of trees everywhere in the park using magic. They never caught him, of course… those were the weird times, when they failed, once and again, to prevent tragedies. Then it just ended. There were couple of strange cases in Mystic Falls, never solved. The greatest regret of the former sheriff Liz Forbs, before she died, was never solving the case of who killed her father and grandmother.

Thank God she didn’t live to see what happened to Matt.

Y/N decided to find and secure Alana May when Damon comes. She liked her the best, and she had a great hope to save her, if anything as horrible happened to her.

Y/N closed her laptop and left her office, walking to the teacher’s room to see Alaric and involve him a bit. His life has been getting far too boring lately.

She also discovered Mal together with him. The Occult Professor was sitting in his chair, looking into his computer intensely, and Mal clearly did not read the signs of his body – or didn’t want to. Standing right behind his shoulder, he pushed Ric’s back with his stomach, and spoke straight into the poor man’s ear.

“Huh, and then she was like, I don’t really believe that you’re already closing to thirty. I was like, ma’am, just because I’m clean shaven, like any other civilized individual… I mean, you know, not to say anything about your majestic beard, Ric, but I’ve never been able to grow anything like that. There are some people, you know…”

All the while his fingers were working on the keyboard disconnected from his brain completely. Ric’s face expressed misery, and Y/N chuckled, watching them, as she sat down behind someone’s unoccupied desk.

“Hey”, Mal smiled, looking at her briefly.

“Y/N”, Alaric stood up with a swing, almost hitting Mal in the face with his elbow. “I was just thinking about you. I need to talk to you. Can we…”

Mal looked up at them curiously, and a sly smile curled his lips. Half of the time he was pissing Saltzman just for the sake of it.

“Yeah, same”, Y/N gestured, inviting him to leave the room since Mal was working. Together, they stepped out into the corridor, which was sunny, smelled of summer, and stood half empty as it was morning.

“Heavenly God”, the man puffed, looking her in the eyes, “how do you stand that person?”

She was still giggling.

“Serious stuff, Ric. You remember I complained to you about those students who chucked on their studies and were running around on fire?”

A line lay between his eyebrows.

“Uh-huh”.

“Damon thinks they’ve been turned. It’s a bit soon to tell, but when I think about it, it makes sense. They all became like one: impatient, nervous, and very short-tempered. There haven’t been any killings yet… that I know of”.

She looked at him with a question. Saltzman shook his head.

“That’s a morbid picture, if he’s right. You think they’re connected with that massacre at the Salvatore mansion?”

“We don’t know if they are vampires yet. Let’see first. He’s coming over today at three”.

Ric put his palm on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Shall we give him his present then?”

The door opened, and Mal walked into them.

“Aw, my bad. The room’s free, if you want it. Y/N, you wanna grab a beer after work?”

“Not today, Mal”, Y/N watched him tilt his head musingly. “We got uh- a thing to do”.

“Oh, the hybristophiliac police gathering. Got it”.

He looked hurt though. Y/N understood very well what he felt at that moment. There they stood, two very different people, part of her outer world, and part of her inner dimension. Ever since Mal came round, the prose of her life became even more boring. Mal was like leaving your house on a fresh morning. You don’t really wanna do that shit anymore. You want to make lava lamps in his basement, listen to his favorite music, and watch Dr Pepper cans fall out of their slots.

“Not really, it’s…”

Ric was watching them both with mist in his eyes.

“Anyway, let’s do it tomorrow”.

“Whatever. Not like I wanted to tell you something super important. It’ll wait”, he smiled and waved them with his quick ringed hand.

“I’ll go get Alana”, Ric put his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “And you watch out for the rest of them”.

“Uh-huh”, Y/N said, still watching Mal walk away. Cindy/Sandy caught her eye. As he walked past her, the girl followed him with a glance, too, and then turned and looked directly at Y/N. Something was off about that look, more than just a “woah, we’re checking out the same guy”. Y/N brushed it off. Not now. Not fucking now.

“Alright, I’ll get her into your office by three”.

“Call me if something happens”.

All those phrases were rehearsed and vocalized hundreds of times. All that routine was suffocating. Y/N walked back to her place thinking about Cindy/Sandy. Maybe she should check her name after all, to finally memorize it.

Damon was there by two-fifty. At three straight, there was a knock at her door, and Alana, led by Alaric, came into her office. Damon’s eyes were highlighted by the sunlight penetrating through the windows like juice. All pale, with bright turquoise, focused and a bit frustrated already, he moved towards the girl without a word.

Alana didn’t have time to react. The vampire took her by the shoulder, as Alaric snapped the door closed, and looked at her like a doctor with at least a century experience.

Only, Salvatore gaze wasn’t caring or curious. It was examining the depths of Alana’s majestic dark brown eyes with cold concentration, and his hard hand never left the girl’s shoulder. Y/N stood next to her, a kind of a maternal instinct rising in her, to protect her from… whatever.

“What are you now?” Damon asked quietly. Alana was looking at him with confusion on her beautiful face. She eyed the man almost angrily, and then replied,

“I’m Alana. Who are you?”

She looked at Y/N for assistance.

“What’s going on?”

“Look at me”, Damon ordered quietly, but with great significance. Y/N got a glimpse of what attracted her to this individual long time ago; he was a very obvious alpha. He was also extremely irritated all the time, which somehow added to his charm. Maybe she just liked the mean type.

Alana stared at Damon, looking all the more lost, and suddenly he straightened up, his face going a dead mask, jaws clenched.

“She’s been turned”.

“What?” Y/N barked, leaning to the student. Alana was turning her head absently at this point, trying to gain someone’s attention, but afraid to stand up as Damon was towering over her.

“Who turned you?” Y/N asked. Alana looked at her, and her eyes went blank.

“What do you mean? What the fuck is going on here?”

Heating up, the girl tried to get up, but Damon pushed her back down roughly. Y/N took him by the shoulder, and he didn’t fail to catch her hand in his inescapable clutch.

“Look”.

He bared his teeth like a tiger yawning, and bit her wrist in a flash, so fast, Y/N couldn’t feel pain at first. She only felt stinging when the first thick, dark drops of blood started to fill on her skin. She could yell at him later, and roll her eyes, too. She looked down at Alana, whose gaze was now focused on her completely. Suddenly, the girl’s face grimaced in pain, and she pushed herself deeper into the armchair, crying out,

“I can’t! Please”, her mouth opened in horror, long fangs growing out of her gums; a familiar black web of swollen veins evened out under her eyes, but she looked at Y/N.

“Your blood, I can’t take it, I can’t…”

But her thirst was stronger. Shaking and convulsing, Alana jumped out, throwing herself over the armchair, just as Damon wrapped his arms around Y/N. It was all too fast, at the vampire speed which always made everything look like changing pictures. Alana threw herself back, right onto another human: Alaric. He was a bad victim, all with instincts and ready hands that never failed him. Y/N bumped into her desk, moved it with her body, pushed away by Salvatore. Damon wanted to step forward to Alana and pushed away the armchair she’d been sitting in, so hard that it collapsed into the bookcase, breaking the glass and scattering the pieces of it. Alaric was pinned to the door, head tilted down, and Alana was immediately pushed to him. She gave out a groan, all too familiar, for Y/N not to understand.

She balanced herself back to her feet, but it was already too late. Salvatore took the student’s body away from Ric, and, having checked that she was dead, took the stake out.

“Good reflexes”, he nodded, carefully placing Alana on the floor.

“Not her”, Y/N moaned. It was her mistake. She chose her to bring here, to Damon. This death was on her.

Y/N ran her fingers through her hair, thinking. She looked at her bookcase and the glass on the floor. Oh how she could’ve used that beer after work.

“God fucking dammit”, she uttered, taking the armchair and pushing it further, to the window.

“How many are there left?” Damon asked. Y/N thought about them with horror. Right now, there’s a group of young vampires, high on thirst and anxiety, getting their blood devil knew where, scattered around the campus. One of them could be flirting with Mal.

“So, we’re not gonna talk about it?” Alaric walked towards the body and then looked at Y/N. “A newly turned vampire, that’s unable to withstand the call of blood, manages to avoid biting you, because, apparently she’s been compelled. If that’s still Rebekah, then I’m completely confused”.

Damon turned to her and gave her the longest look. Y/N felt like the vampire was staring right into her, down to her every little bone, and a nasty feeling crawled into her brain. There was something to do with her. There was a thought, in the back of her mind, almost on the brink of subconscious, that she pushed away and couldn’t reach anymore. The only sensation left was guilt. Why did she feel guilty, like she was hiding something? Why was Damon staring at her like that? He was the third already, that day.

She was walking across the football field. Thank God they didn’t make her run around the campus and look for the remaining fourteen failing students. She was swinging Alana’s keys between her fingers, looking for her car on the other side of the road. She failed to find it in the parking lot and decided to check in the street. It was a normal thing now, deaths. People died pretty often in Mystic Falls and its suburbia. Weird things, awful things happened there. They knew about it even back in Seattle. So, technically, if you come to study or live here, you claim that you’re ready to take the risks. It just bothered Y/N that deaths didn’t bother her anymore. How much does it take off a person to become jaded? It certainly wasn’t that much for her, and yet, she was calm. She’s just seen one of the best Whitmore students die pointlessly; out of Alaric’s paranoid stake throwing. And all she felt was frustration. The new knot to untie, the whole new bunch of threads to pull on. And what if someone really important gets in the way?

She finally found it, a dark blue Honda. Y/N took it back to the campus, circling the building and stopping it at the back entrance. Damon came out with the body and put it in the trunk.

“Tha-ank you”, he clicked his tongue, taking the keys from her. Ric appeared next to him and looked at Y/N with the same silent question.

“You know, if they all were compelled not to feed on you, you’re going to lure them all by yourself”.

“I won’t be luring anyone”, Y/N protested, “we don’t have to kill them. I’m sick of this… favoritism. Either kill all new vampires, or save them all. Imagine it was Bonnie, who’s been turned yesterday. You wouldn’t have staked her”.

Damon puffed.

“Oh, sweet lord. Don’t tell her that. The idea of being a vampire makes her go suicidal this quick”, he snapped his fingers and got into the car.

“Damon’s going to take care of little Alana” he announced, letting down the window, “and you find the rest of their bunch and assess them”.

Ric’s phone rang. He answered it quickly, lifting his palm as if to say, wait a second. Then he looked at them both:

“Caroline’s asking if we’re still up for tonight, at the Grill”.

“Are we really doing the party?” Y/N inquired, morosely.

Damon hummed like he did when a very bad, murderous idea came to him.

“Make it Craze. And Y/N, let everybody know that there’s a lit party tonight. It’s going to be totally sick or whatever you kids say. Let them all come”, he winked, and started the engine.

“That would be dangerous”, Ric tried to reason with him.

“Young vampires won’t be able to resist an opportunity to party”, Y/N thought out loud. “Loud music, lots of hot blood, and excitement”.

“And piles of dead bodies”, Saltzman noted, watching as Alana’s car sped away from the campus.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #damon salvatore #ric saltzman #whitmore guy

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 28 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Since we have about 200 or so chapters to go, I’m gonna stop pretending that I have anything important to say in these author’s notes. Love you all though! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Adore still failed to get Pearl’s attention, Sutan and Violet reconnected, and Trixie and Katya announced their engagement.  

This Chapter: Paris fashion week continues with a spark of hope, an injury, and a well-timed present.

***

“Ugh!”

All Adore wanted was to reach her best friend and tell her the amazing news she had, but of course, Courtney wasn’t answering. She’d sent a bunch of text messages, tried her personal cell twice and her work cell four times. She knew it was business hours in New York, but so what? She needed to talk, and they were supposed to be ride or die besties.

Adore knew there was one surefire way to reach her, though, so she smirked to herself, calling Fame’s office line--through the hotel, so her own number wouldn’t come up on the caller ID.

“Miss Fame’s office.”

Adore affected her best French accent and said, “Hello, I have Madame Delano from French Vogue for Ms. Courtney Jenek.”

“Speaking.”

“Courtney, you fucktard, it’s me!” Adore laughed, flopping backwards onto her hotel bed. Bianca had booked them a suite, and she was deeply enjoying herself so far, wrapped in a spa robe, gorging herself on champagne and a huge room service seafood platter.

“Oh god, sorry. It’s been a day,” Courtney said, finally dropping her pretentious work voice and sounding more like herself. “How’s France?”

“C’est bon, mais oui!” Adore said, making her friend giggle. “Actually, I’m calling you because I have something amazing to report. But if you’re too busy, then-”

“For you? Never!” Courtney assured her. “I mean, sure, I have about a hundred things that Violet said I need to get done in the next ten minutes, but...eh, it can wait. What’s up?”

“That’s my girl!” Adore grinning, settling back against her pillows and dipping a shrimp into some very delicious mystery sauce. “Okay, so, I was kind of bummed last night because I saw Pearl but she like, didn’t say hi or anything, and so I thought maybe she just wasn’t interested anymore, you know? And even this morning, I couldn’t get a read on her. But then…”

Adore paused dramatically, popping the shrimp into her mouth.

“Then...? What happened?!” Courtney exclaimed.

“We were at this dumb fashion show, a super boring one for like Celine or something, and it was just like, suit suit suit suit...and I literally almost fell asleep, but then afterwards, I’m just standing at the bar with a drink, and guess who came up behind me?”

“I want to say Pearl, but that seems so obvious.”

“Yes! Pearl! She came up to me, and she was so funny, all ‘what are you even doing here? You’re way too cool for this shit.’”

“I mean, she’s right.”

“And the way she like, said it in this low voice right in my ear. I got all tingly and lightheaded and I almost just swooned right into her arms.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, so then I turned around and it was like those movies where the music swells and everything slows down and ugh, she’s so hot, I cannot take it,” Adore rolled over, hugging a pillow to her chest, the memory of Pearl’s scent still clinging to her skin.

“What did you say?”

“I was like…” Adore took a deep breath, trying to do her best impression of the sexy voice she’d used earlier, “Oh, you think you know me, huh? You have no idea…”

“Stop it, you did not!”

“I did! And then she was like, ‘will i see you later at-”

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Adore sat up, slightly annoyed that her story had been interrupted, but also concerned for her friend.

“I just spilled tea all over the...I gotta go, Adore, sorry.”

“Oh. But I still haven’t told you about the-”

“I’ll call you later! Love you!”

Adore glared at her phone as the line went dead. “Rude.”

***

Violet hurried behind Fame and Raja, on their way to a cocktail party. She knew that Fame had barely eaten any lunch, and that her dinner tonight wasn’t for another three hours, so when Fame held out a hand to her wordlessly, Violet knew exactly what she wanted. She fished the raw coconut date ball, Fame’s favorite snack for when her blood sugar dipped, out of her purse, even quickly opening the package before placing it in her boss’s hand.

“That show was something, wasn’t it?” Fame asked, and Raja chuckled.

“I know it makes me a terrible person--” Raja shook her head at Fame, who was offering her a piece of the snack. “--But I love watching a model take a proper dive off stage-”

“Raj!” Fame squealed, hitting her arm, hiding her mouth so no one could see her chewing. “Don’t make me choke on my dinner.”

They had just finished watching the Giambattista Valli show, Violet standing against the wall with all the other assistants.

“What happened to that poor girl was terrible.” Fame huffed. She was in bright white, her red Valentino bag the only pop of color, the accessories matched perfectly to her lipstick.

“Absolutely horrible-” Raja smirked, everything about her radiating confidence as she walked down the street. “A true tragedy.”

“Karma will get you for this.”

Violet knew that Raja and Fame could bicker for hours, but they were cut off as they had finally made it to the historically old building where the evening’s cocktail hour was held. Violet didn’t wait, simply holding her arms out to take Fame’s coat, Raja followed suit, dumping them in Violet’s hands before they both disappeared.

Violet nodded at the coat check girl, carefully putting the numbers in the zipped part of her purse. She had never lost anything of Fame’s, and she wasn’t about to start in Paris of all places.

***

“TanTan!”

Raja spun around at the sound of a familiar voice calling her brother’s name.

“What the-” Sutan stood up straight.

Raja looked out over the crowd, fashion faces all around them. The cocktail party had been going for well over an hour, small oases set up for lounging around, which Raja took full advantage of.

“Tan!”

Raja had always prided herself at being able to keep a calm head in any situation, but as soon as she spotted her fiancée, she felt her stomach clench.

“Raven?”

Raven was hobbling towards them, her fiance’s long black hair spilling down her back. She was in a black corset top, her neck adored with the emerald necklace Raja had so lovingly put on her that very morning.

As soon as their eyes met, though, Raven’s icy demeanor shattered, her face crumbling as she reached for her. It had been one of the first things Raja had noticed about Raven, was how indifferent she was, how difficult she was to impress. It was what had made her stand out like a shining beacon in a sea of beauty.

This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all.

“Oh Raja!”

Raja answered instantly, rushing to her side, not even noticing that Fame and Violet had returned to their table, her twin right behind her.

“What happened?” Sutan flanked Raven right away, blocking both of them from view.

“My shoe broke-” Raven was shaky, and if Raja didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like she was about to cry, but that couldn’t be right. She put a protective arm around her fiancée, and Raven instantly leaned against her, letting her take her weight.

“Is everything alright?” Violet showed up behind Sutan, and while Raja didn’t have anything against her, she really didn’t want anyone she didn’t completely trust around right now.

“I think my ankle-” Raven gestured vaguely, and Raja looked down for the first time. Raven’s foot was visibly swollen, her golden Jimmy Choo missing it’s heel.

“Fuck.” Sutan crouched down, Violet’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “I have to make calls, if I’m lucky Jaslene can substitut-”

“NO!” Raven cried out. “No, don’t-”

Raja wanted to say something, wanted to butt in, but she didn’t know what to do. It was clear that Raven couldn’t walk a runway with a broken foot, and as a former model herself Raja knew just how much trouble there would be if Raven couldn’t honor her booking.

“Raven,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoe, and Raven immediately winched.

“Don’t touch it!”

“If I can’t touch it, how can you possibly think I’ll let you walk?” Sutan bristled, irritation clear on his face.

“I need to walk tomorrow!”

Sutan touched her foot again, and Raven yelped, gritting her teeth through the pain.

[Let’s get her down.] Raja looked at her twin, and Sutan nodded. Raven allowed Raja to escort her to a nearby sofa, sitting down heavily and moaning, “What am I going to do?!”

“Let me take a look.”

Raja turned, surprised to see Violet standing there with a big glass of ice and her purse. She hadn’t even noticed her leaving, but she couldn’t help but be impressed with her foresight.

“Please-” Raven gestured to her foot, and Violet crouched down, Sutan sitting down next to Raja.

“Holy shit…”

Raja looked at her brother, his mouth hanging slightly open, his arms crossed as he was staring directly at Violet.

“I know you’re scared,” Violet ever so gently took Raven’s shoe off, and Raja barely managed to hide her reaction to the ugly purplish bruise that was forming on her foot, “and I know you’re in a lot of pain, but I need you to be strong and I need you to be quiet.”

“I can do that.” Raven nodded.

“Sutan, give me your handkerchief.”

Violet held her hand out, and Sutan accommodated her immediately, handing her the fabric which Violet used to wrap the ice she fished out of the glass. Violet held it in place on Raven’s foot, even as she gasped, burying her face against Raja’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, princess?” Raja whispered.

“No.”

“We’ll take good care of you, baby, don’t worry.” Raja pressed a kiss against Raven’s hair, the lush locks smelling faintly like orange blossom, and Raja couldn’t help but think back to that very morning where she’d been exploring damp and slick shower-fresh skin.

“Raven,” Violet said, trying to get the girl to focus on something other than her ankle. “Did you hear that Cordelia took a stage dive at the Giambattista Valli show?”

“Quelle tragique,” Raven said, turning her face towards Violet, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “Poor little lamb.”

Raja couldn’t help but be impressed with Violet’s ability to divert her attention from the pain so quickly.

“Who are you walking for tomorrow?” Violet asked, and soon Raven was chatting away, telling Violet all about her plans for the rest of the week. After a few minutes of icing her ankle, Violet removed the kerchief and examined the bruise, nodding to herself before pulling a roll of white tape out of her purse.

“Have you been carrying that all day?” Sutan looked surprised, his voice filled with a sense of wonder Raja rarely ever heard from him.

“Perhaps.” Violet smiled, and Raja snorted, watching as Violet expertly opened the roll.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Raven asked, nails digging into Raja’s hand.

“Yes,” Violet admitted, her tone flat, like she was simply stating the obvious. “But if you want to walk tomorrow-”

“I do, I do!”

“Good.” Violet began wrapping Raven’s ankle, briefly catching Raja’s eyes, nodding her head slightly, clearly trying to tell her she needed to distract Raven.

Raja did her best, but it was impossible to concentrate when Raven let out whimpers of pain, and she ended up just stroking her hair gently while the brunette worked away. Finally, the whimpers began to fade.

“Your toes are okay,” Violet proclaimed. “It’s not broken, and I don’t even think it’s a sprain. You’ll be able to walk just fine.”

Raja breathed out a sigh of relief, only now noticing that Violet’s Dolce & Gabbana dress was touching the floor, but it didn’t look like it bothered the young woman at all that her clothes were getting dirty.

“You’re tough, Raven. You and I, we get it done because we have to, and you can do this. Let’s test it.”

Violet had finished wrapping Raven’s foot, and grabbed Raven’s hands, helping the other woman up as she carefully put pressure on her foot, not screaming in pain.

“You should keep it elevated, and continue icing it as much as possible, but not more than fifteen minutes at a time-”

“Oh my god, Violet, I love you…I really fucking do!” Raven exclaimed.

“It’s not that much-“

“No. Seriously, you have just earned yourself a best friend for life.” Raven pulled Violet in for a tight embrace before sitting back down, allowing Violet to refill the handkerchief with a fresh batch of ice.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

Pearl was standing outside of the hotel, being unreasonably slow as she lit her cigarette, doing her very best to drag it out for as long as possible.

She had put on one of her very best outfits, her ass looking like sin in the black leather pants she had struggled to get into, the fabric practically painted on.

Pearl knew that Fame was leaving the hotel at 9.45 sharp, and that Violet was always 10 minute early.

She hadn’t fully figured out yet exactly how she’d get Violet to talk to her, but she knew that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, the sensation of Violet’s fingers on her skin still there.

Pearl was aware that she hadn’t acted her best, and while she didn’t initially agree that it was fair that Violet had freaked out about her kissing another girl at the Vogue party, Pearl had been able to find it in herself to forgive her.

“Oh-”

Pearl turned, a smile blooming on her face as she saw Violet, who had just exited the building. She was beautiful in the morning light, her dress of the day showing off her collarbones and the barest swell of her breasts perfectly.

“Good morning, Pearl.”

Violet smiled, and Pearl smiled back, the easiness on Violet’s face filling her with warmth.

There was no way she’d be happy without making this gorgeous girl hers, and when Pearl Liaison decided she wanted something, she got it.

“Morning pumpkin.”

Violet didn’t flinch, didn’t look annoyed at the nickname, and Pearl could swear they were back to the good old days. Violet checked her phone, and Pearl see her relax, Fame probably still in her room. Violet sent off a quick message, looking up at Pearl.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Mmmh.” Pearl nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“I barely did anything.” Violet took a step forward, settling besides Pearl on the wall, the two of them chatting away, and Pearl knew without a doubt that she’d have Violet in her bed where she belonged before Paris was over.

***

Courtney’s hands flew over the practically smoking keyboard as she tried to keep up with the barrage of emails from Violet. How was she able to send emails so fast, all while attending fashion shows? Shouldn’t she be sipping a café au lait or something?

She felt like she hadn’t had a moment to breathe since yesterday morning, when she’d woken up at 4 am to message after message, an endless list of tasks to complete before she even had a chance to pee. Today was no different. She supposed that the entire week would be like this. At first, she’d had a faint hope that the time difference would mean going home early, but so far no such luck. Violet clearly expected her to be in the office until 7 just like always.

Courtney groaned. It was only Tuesday and she was already so tired, so stressed, so aggravated. Any task that wasn’t an absolute emergency was getting put off, added to a to do list that was growing exponentially. She never thought she’d be praying for Fame and Violet to return to the office, but she couldn’t wait until this European extravaganza was over.

Her phone rang, and she answered quickly, seeing that the call was coming from reception.

“Yes?”

“Come to the front desk,” Roxy said. “There’s something I need to show you.”

“Now? But I just-”

“Yeah, now. Hurry.”

The line went silent as she hung up. Courtney finished her email, made a note on her pad, and then heaved herself up from the desk, hurrying to reception to find out what could possibly be so urgent.

“What’s going on?” she asked, confused by the giant grin on Roxy’s face.

“Someone loves you,” Roxy said.

Now, Courtney was really confused. Her brow furrowed deeply.

“Huh?”

Roxy rolled her eyes and gestured to a flower arrangement sitting on the ledge in front of her. It was a huge, extravagant flower arrangement of pink and champagne roses. It was so big that Courtney hadn’t even noticed it at first, mistaking it for part of the office decor.

“Those are for me?” Courtney asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah. And these too.” Roxy held out a huge gold box of chocolates. “For a second I wondered if it was Valentine’s Day. Then I remembered it’s fucking September.”

Courtney stepped forward, pulling the card from the flowers and ripping open the envelope.

“Who’re they from?”

To the most beautiful girl in the entire world,

I know you’re stressed right now, so I hope these cheer you up. It’s only been 2 days but I already miss you like crazy, would give anything just to see your face. Don’t be a stranger.

XO, W

P.S. Don’t worry, the chocolates are vegan.

A smile tugged at Courtney’s lips. She’d had another amazing date with Willam on Sunday, almost disgustingly adorable: an extended brunch, followed by hours of strolling through the park, fingers laced together, taking in the foliage already turning brilliant fall colors. She’d confided in him, even more than she had before, about all of the things weighing on her mind, all her secret dreams and hopes for the future. And he hadn’t interrupted her once, had been interested in all of it like nobody else she’d ever met.

And at one point, standing on a little footbridge, breathing in the crisp autumn air, he’d kissed her. A sweet and tender kiss. It was strange: he had such a bold sense of humor, almost crude, but their relationship was the exact opposite. Chaste. Victorian, even.

For someone used to being treated like a piece of meat, it was a lovely and refreshing change of pace, and Courtney found herself thinking that in fact, she was wrong to be worried about their supposed lack of passion. So he didn’t want to jump into bed right away--that was good! It gave them time to get to know each other. And she had to admit, it was a bit of a relief that he wasn’t only looking for sex; she could just relax and enjoy their time together without worrying about all the usual things.

The truth, the real truth, was that Courtney had never liked dating very much before. Oh sure, she enjoyed attention, being told she was beautiful, seeing the effect she had on boys. All of that was nice. But actually doing it: sitting through excruciating conversations about sports and cars and comic books or whatever the boys she dated happened to be obsessed with, listening to empty promises and fancy words when she knew for a fact that the only thing they wanted was between her legs. And the sex itself--never particularly satisfying, mostly just another thing she had to Get Through for any chance at being held (and even that was hit or miss).

Courtney had been telling herself for years that it was the boys: she just somehow always ended up with shallow jerks and exhausting douchebags. Someday, she’d find a great guy, who was exciting and funny and considerate, who made her feel all those fluttery things that she was supposed to feel.

Was Willam that guy? He certainly should be. He was kind and patient and objectively good-looking. It made Courtney a bit uneasy to think that maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe she was the one with the problem. Maybe she was just incapable of the kind of epic romance that she’d always dreamed of.

“Oh, just this guy I’m seeing.” For a moment, Courtney found herself wondering if she should use the word ‘boyfriend.’ It still felt too soon, but was it? He was certainly angling hard in that direction.

“You must be amazing in bed,” said Roxy.  

“We haven’t actually slept together yet,” Courtney told her, gathering the flowers and chocolates into her arms. Since Miss Fame was gone, nobody could stop her from keeping them in her office, so she could look at them anytime her day sucked. Which, if the week continued to go the way it had been, would be frequently.

“You haven’t slept together and he’s sending this shit?!” Roxy’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “Marry him!”

Courtney laughed, rounding the corner back to her office and setting the roses down. She sighed happily, pulling out her cell to send Willam a thank you text, when her office phone began ringing. She dropped her cell, scrambling to pick up her headset, pulse quickening and stomach sinking when she saw that familiar number on the caller ID.

“Hi, Violet…” Courtney closed her eyes as Violet began to rant at her about Fame’s latest emergency, bracing herself for an incredibly un-fun afternoon.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #adore x pearl #raja x raven #vitan #pearlet #witney #adore delano #courtney act #violet chachki #raja gemini #raven #miss fame #pearl liaison #roxxxy andrews #lesbian au #fashion au

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

Sunday Morning Sobriety

Pairing: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse

A/N: ok so my computer decided to crash two days ago and it has the ben fic on it so I'll have to postpone that until i can get my laptop back in order but I've been working on some drabbles on my phone and i honestly don't know how good this is or where I was going with it when i was writing so it's a little all over the place (yikes)

It's a lovely Sunday morning for some doughnuts. You swear Agnes has to have some sort of otherworldly ingredient that makes her doughnuts taste so scrumptious, although she promises she just makes them with love.

Sitting at your favorite booth by the window, you munch on your sweet breakfast, and Agnes brings you your preferred drink on the house. You accept the mug, thanking her for the hospitality. Taking a sip of the warm liquid, you gaze out the window, appreciating how peaceful the morning is.

And then, as if on cue, none other than Klaus Hargreeves comes stumbling through the front door of Griddy's Doughnuts. After greeting Agnes with a wave and that kind smile of his that always has a glint of eccentricity, he plops down in the empty seat across from you. True to character, he's clad in those leather pants of his, barely wearing a shirt, and a god-awful jacket that's louder than he is at a party.

"Right on schedule," he announces, checking a watch that would be on his wrist if he hadn't pawned it off last week. Showing off his pearly white teeth, he flashes you a smile that says he's thrilled to see you.

"Are you sober?" You ask him, raising an eyebrow at his exaggerated and shaky gestures.

"Maybe..." he brings a finger up to his bottom lip as though he's thinking really hard about it. You honestly can't tell whether or not he's joking. "Yup, a definite maybe."

The relationship you have with Klaus Hargreeves is... strange, to say the least. You've been sort of friends for a few years— he comes and goes as he pleases, but he's stuck around more and you've been seeing him almost regularly for the last year or so. How you feel about him is complicated because you care about him a great deal, which also means you can't stand seeing him destroy himself despite your best efforts. You do know it's a horrible addiction he needs to get over and it hurts more than he would ever know every time you see him swallow another damn pill, but you also know that to a certain point, it's a journey he has to do himself for the most part. And you want to be by his side for all of it— once he's ready to take that step.

"I really am trying though," he admits in a more serious tone as he averts his gaze to his fidgeting fingers. He knows he's sober at the moment— the blasted headache, the overwhelming emotions that make him feel like they'll cause him to implode, and the compulsive need to cram the nearest narcotics he can find down his throat are obvious indicators. Withdrawal is the shittiest sensation he never gets used to. "I-It's just really hard sometimes with—"

"I know," You don't cut him off to be rude, but you can see him becoming increasingly anxious thinking about it. Sliding your arms forward on the table, you reach for his hands curling your fingers over his shaky ones. "Klaus, with everything you've been through, a-and everything you still have to deal with —"

"You don't even know the half of it," he chuckles, sounding exhausted and overwhelmed more than anything.

"You can always talk to me," Your offer is genuine, and he knows it. He also knows that what he's experienced— and still does, is a complete fucking nightmare. Klaus wants nothing more than to tell you everything, but he wouldn't want to put that kind of strain on someone as pure as you. "It can't be good to keep all of that in, and I might not understand right away, but I want to try- for you. Will you let me?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he answers after a moment's hesitation, averting his gaze to the window, looking at it more than through it like there's a haze obscuring the glass.

"Try me."

Instinctively looking to the empty space next to him, his features shift ever so slightly to form an expression one wears when they non-verbally communicate with a sibling or a close friend.

"Is that Ben?" You ask him, and his attention snaps back to you. He seems a little surprised, but not necessarily in a bad way. You've had your suspicions, knowing Klaus' powers, and Ben's story— or at least what you've been told of the tragedy. "Can he hear me?" You don't want to intrude or offend him in any way; you just want to make him feel more comfortable, and it seems to be working because he silently nods his head. "Hi Ben, I'm Y/N," you introduce yourself, trying your best to look at the same place where Klaus was just looking. "I'm sorry I haven't formally introduced myself sooner."

"Yeah, how rude of you not to introduce us sooner," Ben remarks sarcastically, to which Klaus rolls his eyes in response to his brother.

"Ben says hi."

"It must get pretty lonely," you say sympathetically, hoping you don't come off as pitying. "If ever you feel like talking to someone, you can always talk to me," You give a kind smile that's warming to him— both of them, something neither has experienced in a long time. Although he won't make it so obvious to Klaus, Ben is overjoyed that he can finally communicate to someone else in the live realm now. He loves his brother of course, but Klaus and the others don't really take the time to interact.

"I like this Y/N," he gives a nod of approval, sporting a small smile. Ben can already see that having someone like you in his life will be good for him. Klaus has always been a sensitive spirit, and with all the trauma he's endured he needs someone patient and understanding more than anything.

But Klaus also knows himself, and all the unwelcome things that come with being around him. He doesn't want to burden anyone with his impossibly heavy baggage.

You can feel it as a knowing smile graces your lips. Little does he know you also have quite some hefty baggage you've been carrying around for as long as you can remember.

"Ben says he likes you."

"I like him too," you state and turn your head to smile at the empty seat next to Klaus once more. "And what about you?" He hums in response, quirking up an eyebrow in confusion. "How do you feel about me?"

"What a ridiculous question," An impish grin takes over his features because you should already know the answer to that question. "You're beautiful, you know that?" He blurts out unintentionally, yet he doesn't have an ounce of shame or regret about it. It's simply a truth that needed to be said. "Y/N, I really care about you," is all he can say to avoid telling you the precise words that describe what he feels.

"Klaus," you say his name in a nearly breathless manner, as you give his hand a comforting squeeze. "Don't take this the wrong way, but—"

"I get it, I just wanted to put it out there, I wasn't expecting anything back—"

"N-No! That's not it—"

"Really, it's okay," It's heartbreaking how accepting he is of rejection; expecting it before it comes. You can't let that happen. "I'm just a—"

"Klaus, you're so amazing and you don't even know it!" His lips part slightly as they release a breath of bewilderment. You squeeze his hands so hard that it hurts him a little, but he doesn't care. "You are the most caring, sensitive person I've ever met, a-and I care about you too much to see you ruin yourself—"

"So what you're saying is that you like, like me?" A smirk dominates his features, replacing whatever vulnerable and insecure frown he wore seconds ago.

"Yes," you chuckle, rolling your eyes at the certain amount of visible ego inflation you've caused. Seeing him open his mouth, you speak before he can make some silly comment that would diffuse the gravity of the situation, "But I can't be with you unless you're sober— I-I don't think I'd be able to watch you hurt yourself like that, and until then I will be supporting you the best I can—"

"I'm sober," he whispers as a corner of his mouth quirks upwards.

"Wh—"

"I'm sober," he says louder, the grin spreading across his features. "I've been sober for almost a week!" You can't help the smile that breaks out on your face as you watch how overjoyed he becomes.

Standing abruptly from his seat, he makes his way around the table to your side of the booth, falling into place next you. You let out a giggle as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and leans in close.

"Not so fast," you chuckle, placing a hand on his chest. "You need to stay sober," you tell him, once again taking on a tone of seriousness as you lock your eyes to his. "I care about you a lot."

His eyes flicker down to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your enticing orbs again, and then he leans in slightly so that mere inches stand between your lips and his. He stops himself before going any further, asking for your permission. You take it upon yourself to close the distance as you move forward to press your lips to his.

Klaus' eyes flutter closed and he lets himself melt into your kiss instantly, experiencing the full sensation without a numbing haze. Your hand closes around the fabric of his shirt that covers (or barely) his chest as he deepens the kiss, pouring the unspoken depth of his feelings into one simple action.

Maybe with you, things will finally be okay, and he won't need to numb himself anymore.

Ben lets out a fake cough from across the booth, trying to get Klaus' attention, only to be dismissed with a wave. "All right then, I'm going to leave the two of you alone."

#klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves drabble #potatowrites #drabble #klaus hargreeves x reader #tua #the umbrella academy fic #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy drabble #tua fic #tua imagines

[lisinfleur]

EBMK - Chapter 05: Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Author’s Notes | Sometimes our personal tragedies turn our ways completely. They turn our lives inside out and change our destinies in the middle of the trip. Sometimes our personal tragedies change our roads. And our roads cross with other roads we weren't expecting to find... Words | 2031 ⁑ Warnings: Mention to abandon, addiction, and consequences.  

The whole way was silently shared by the three of them inside that car. Despite some small interruptions of Kyle's cooing or Joy's voice singing low for him to sleep, no sound was to be heard or word was shared through the whole first day of that trip.

After some kilometers, Adrian's tears got dry and only his eyes lost in the road remained. His thoughts remembering Victoria's eyes so empty on him; dancing through the many times he sat with Mads to imagine how would it be to hold his own child as he had the chance to hold Kyle a few days after Mads' child was born. He was so good at it! Joy even praised the way he had Kyle sleeping in less than ten minutes in his arms...

How good would it be to do the same for his son?

How would it be to hold his little Patrick and see his own child sleeping so safely in his arms that way?

The feeling of betrayal crossed his heart once again as if a rusted knife was sunk into his chest, moving whenever his happiest plans came to his mind one more time, to remember him they would never happen.

That it wasn't his son...

It wasn't his Patrick but Chad's little Shon... It wasn't his dream anymore. It never was.

When Mads stopped at the first convenience around the end of the second day to stretch his legs and stop driving a little, Adrian got out of the car, lighting a cigarette away from Joy and the baby, near the edge of a small break on the little hill that store was placed.

"She fucked up, didn't she?" Mads' voice echoed before he sat beside his friend, sharing a bottle of coke he bought into the store.

"Chad came back for his son," Adrian answered, not looking at Mads. "It wasn't my family anyway. Fuck it. I don't care." he pretended.

But Mads knew no one cries silently through twenty kilometers of road for something that's not important. No one spends a whole weekend eating sandwiches and covered in paint to prepare a room for something that's not important. Nor reads lots of books and study like hell to take care of something that's not important.

Adrian had prepared a little dream and Mads knew Victoria had broken his friend's plans for life.

Adrian felt Mads' fingers pressing his shoulder and his teary blues found Mads' greens looking at him, supportive.

They didn't need words. Mads knew his brother was broken. Adrian knew Mads was there to support him. Both of them knew sooner or later, it would pass. No pain lasts forever...

Back in the car, Mads drove to the next city where they would stop to rest some time. Despite being in a flee, Mads knew they were the smaller fish and the Copenhagen Police was too focused on the bigger ones to really give a damn they weren't around. It could be their chance to start something new.

They slept for some hours in a cheaper hotel, leaving with the sunrise towards the house of one of Joy's old friends - as Mads told Adrian. It took a while for them to arrive; enough for Adrian to lost the track of where they were now - somewhere in Sweden, for sure, but nowhere he had ever seen before.

The place was fully green and they left the road going deep into a little town before finally finding a small house where Mads' stopped the car. It was made of wood and was old like hell, mistreated, paint was falling at the facade, some broken woods at the balcony. Adrian thought he could fix it easily, but he soonly understood why the house was like that when the owner opened the noisy door looking at them.

"Who's him? Joy... Who's him?" she asked, causing Adrian to softly step back.

"It's a friend of mine, Y/N, come on... He has no place to go. He's Adrian, remember? Joy spoke about him..." Mads started and Adrian could hear the small discussion, understanding he wasn't supposed to be there.

It seems the girl was offering shelter to Mads and Joy, but not expecting a third person to come. And looking by her condition, Adrian could understand: the woman was heavily pregnant, skinny, and looking tired. As mistreated as the house she was living in...

For a moment, Adrian thought about the father of that child and his own dreams about his little Patrick. "Some with so much, some with so little..." he thought. If it was him, he would never leave his wife with his child living in a situation like that. But he said nothing.

He just pulled the bag he brought with him and gently put himself into the conversation.

"I can pay for my staying," he said, attracting the woman's eyes so as Mads'.

"Brother, you don't..." Mads started, but Adrian cut him before he could say he didn't need to do it.

Mads knew what that bag was. What the organized money inside of that was saved for...

Adrian's little dream...

"No... That's fine, brother. She's helping us... It's fair that I help as well," Adrian smiled, catching even more that woman's attention.

She wasn't waiting for someone as gentle as Mads itself.

"It's fine," he said, smiling at her. "I can help."

With this, she opened the door completely for them to get in and then, Adrian thought that his suggestion was the best thing he could ever think of doing: the house was falling apart! The wallpaper inside was in the same conditions as the paint outside and the house had almost nothing inside: an old couch at the living room with a small remended table at the center was everything he could see in that place.

"Are you ok, Y/N? Where is..." Joy started, but Y/N cut her with a heavy voice, annoyed.

"He's gone. I don't wanna talk about this..." she said, causing Adrian to cringe.

There was the same sensation of betrayal in her voice that he could hear in his own when speaking about Victoria... Whoever was the father of that child, he wasn't there.

"That's not bad, love... He wasn't good. You're not alone," Joy said and Adrian could see some few tears in Y/N's eyes when she placed her hands over the rounded belly as if she could protect the child inside.

"Y/N's used to live with a dude I knew," Mads commented in a low voice, almost into Adrian's ear. "Ethan wasn't ok, man... I mean, she told me he was trying to rehab, but... Well... You know how people who go too far end up, bro."

He knew. Very well.

"I just have one room left," Y/N's voice caught Adrian back from his thoughts and he smiled.

"I can sleep in the living room for now if you don't mind," he offered.

"We can try to make some repairs," Mads suggested and Y/N looked at him.

"I'm a good painter," Adrian said, kinda bitter.

But Mads didn't let it down for his friend.

"He's the best I know," he said, patting Adrian's back. "We sleep and tomorrow you can have some time with Joy and Kyle while Adrian and I will take care of the house for you, ok? Don't worry, Y/N. We'll help."

Adrian smiled a little bigger when her lips curled in a shy smile. She seemed to be in such a bad situation and even then, there she was, opening her small house to receive him and Mads, and Joy, and little Kyle... "People with too few sometimes are the ones who divide the most", he thought.

She brought him some blankets that helped Adrian to make the couch a little more comfortable and then, he saw her going to the room... There were some planks inside he could recognize as a crib not mounted and the room had nothing but an old locker and her bed. Adrian thought in offering himself to mount the crib for her tomorrow as he got laid in his improvised bed staring at the ceiling. For a moment, Victoria's life passed through his mind. He was there for her, he had done everything for her child and she gave him nothing but contempt... That woman had so little and even then, he saw her smiling at them when Mads said they would help. "Life is unfair," he thought. And fell asleep thinking maybe he could make it fairer for that woman.

  The day came and Mads called Adrian to the town. A small place, but well sustained, with good stores where Mads bought some tools and paint for them to start working at the house. Adrian put some of his money in the game, helping Mads to get some more things for them to start making the house a little better for them all - Once he didn't know how long he would have to stay, Adrian didn't measure his investment: Y/N was opening her doors for them all even having so little. Who was he to say no to someone able of such a gesture?

"Oh my god, Mads! That's too much! I cannot pay for this, for god's sake!" Y/N said, surprised when they started to unload the car, placing the materials in a corner of her living room.

But Mads smiled at her and so did Adrian.

"Don't worry. I told you we'll help and we mean it, Y/N. I don't know how long we'll have to stay..."

"You can stay as long as you want, Mads," she said, sighing. "Ethan is gone for good... And the place is too big for me alone. I... I would like to have someone around and we could raise Kyle along my little Patrick," she said, caressing her belly.

Shocking them both with her words. Mads looked at Adrian who swallowed dry, getting into the house without a word.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing... ern... That's a beautiful name, by the way... I'll be right back!" Mads dodged, going after Adrian who was at the window, fully surprised. "Bro..."

"What is happening?" he asked, looking at Mads.

"What do you mean?" Mads asked. "She never told me, I mean, I'm not..."

"I don't think it was intentional, Mads," Adrian said, looking at Mads with all that surprise in his eyes, ensuring Mads he didn't have to be worried about his brother thinking it was a plan or anything like.

Mads never thought about that situation or bringing Adrian to push him towards Y/N nor anything like. But Adrian couldn't deny something was happening in that place.

"I'm here for a reason... I can feel it," Adrian said, "Maybe... Maybe it won't be lost, after all."

Adrian's hand landed at the bag with the money he saved for so long for his little Patrick. Maybe there was a Patrick he could help with that money after all...

"Is everything ok?" Y/N came in, worried about the way they left.

And Adrian walked towards her with a smile.

"Nothing wrong, Y/N. I was just speaking to Mads that I think those planks inside your room are an unmounted crib, am I wrong?"

"No, I... I managed to buy it for Patrick with the money Ethan didn't take with him when he left, but I don't know how to mount it and I don't think I would be able to do it with the belly," she giggled as if being round was a joke to what Adrian opened a beautiful smile.

"Would you mind if I try?"

She smiled bigger.

"I show you where... I... Thank you, Adrian!" Y/N said and Adrian smiled at Mads with that beautiful glow in his eyes once again.

This time, it warmed Mads' heart.

After what Victoria did to his brother, he never thought he would see Adrian's eyes shining that way once again so soon. But there was his friend, messing with planks and mounting another crib for another Patrick to come... Adrian was an innate father. And maybe somehow, their fate with the club wasn't something that bad, after all.

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