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mageofseven · 11 months

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Repressed Love: A DiaLuci Love Story

Chapter 5

Tag list: @astroseuss @zarakem @missloserqueen

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Lucifer had been staying with Diavolo for a little over a week at this point. Being with the prince like this...it was a comfort so foreign to this man. However, he also became incredibly restless.

The pride demon was used to his workaholic ways, but his love refused to let him do any work at all. Lucifer...he didn't really understand the term 'moderation' when it came to work and Dia wasn't about to let this man stress himself into an early labor.

Dia himself was even pushing off his own work in order to focus on his pregnant love, despite knowing that once the child is born that he'll have a lot of work piled up and waiting for him on his desk.

Some work, however, was incredibly time sensitive so the prince couldn't put it off. Dia would randomly be handed a stack of papers from Barbatos and the prince would have no choice but to read through it, add his initials in certain spots and signatures in others.

Lucifer would always complain during these times. After all, why can't he do paperwork, but Diavolo can? The pride demon was really good at getting upset at the strangest things, Dia thought.

Each time, the prince would finish the paperwork as quickly as he could before showing his love the attention he so craved. Only then was Lucifer satisfied.

Throughout this week that the two have been living together, Dia was constantly buying things for his pregnant beloved.

Maternity clothes (both that fit now and for when Luce gets bigger) and so many baby essentials! Bottles, a bassinet, a crib, like a billion different blankets. He bought clothes for the child, sizes from new born all the way to outfits worn by 10 year olds. Children born in this method grow incredibly quickly so the prince wanted to be as prepared as possible.

This was... overwhelming for the pride demon, but not in a bad way. Because of Diavolo, the man felt like he was prepared for his child in terms of the necessary objects needed and that was a weight off of his shoulders.

The prince's overzealous attitude to his child was incredibly endearing and honestly...Luce needed that. He needed Diavolo's positive vibes to lift him from the complexities of this situation.

Honestly, things were more or less great between the two.

Then things became complicated once more.

It was a nice evening in the Devildom so the two men were drinking tea out in the garden. The men had a pretty good day and wanted to end it off by staring up at the stars together.

Things were peaceful. The two men were happy.

At one point, Lucifer looked down from the sky and noticed the prince was staring at him.

He sighed.

"Diavolo, the stars are up there."

"But true beauty is right in front me."

The pride demon blushed and shook his head.

"If you are already tired of the night sky, we can retreat in for the night."

This time it was the prince's turn to shake his head.

"Not yet. There's still something I must do."

The pride demon raise an eyebrow as the prince got up from his seat and stood in front of him. He took Luce's ungloved hand (his hands and feet started to swell a bit from the pregnancy and he could no longer comfortably wear his gloves) and held it in both of his own.

"My Light...you know I love you more than anything in three realms, right? That you more precious to me than anyone?"

Embarrassed, but much more comfortable with the other demon's words than he used to be, Lucifer nodded.

"Yes, love."

Diavolo's smile grew at the other man's response.

"I cannot imagine loving anyone else as much as I love you." He continued. "Even through all of our issues and your fears, I always knew I was meant to be by your side. To be with you...it feels like the stars were always meant to align in just this way for us to be together."

The prince stroked his hand and gave it a small kiss. The gesture was sweet and his words were...well, just as sweet and heartwarming.

However, Lucifer suddenly had a bad feeling sink to the pit of his stomach. What was this man planning? And why did it set every inch of the pride demon on edge?

"My sweet Light...I want to be with you forever." Dia knelt down on one knee and removed a hand from Luce's to retrieve a small box from his pocket.

"Diavolo." Luce's eyes couldn't leave the box. He's seen it before. It's--

"My love," He took his other hand and opened the box, revealing a ring with a deep blue gem stone, a lapis lazuli. "Please let me take care of you and this child for the rest of our days. Marry me and let us always be this happy."

Luce was crying and like always in this moment, he was too disconnected from his body to realize it.

He couldn't believe this was happening, That ring was his mother's engagement ring. He's seen it before. There were very few things the king kept of his wife's after her death so Dia cherished this ring

And now he was giving it to him and ask him to be his husband

And Lucifer couldn't think of a single worse thing to be happening to him in this moment.

Everything was going good. They were happy and Lucifer found himself slowly more comfortable with both expressing love and affection as well as being on the receiving end.

But this? Marriage? Lucifer still struggled to call this man his boyfriend, his partner, and Diavolo wanted to jump into marriage? This man had more faith in his progress than Luce himself did.

The pride demon's mind was swirling with thoughts. He can't say yes. He'd just hurt him. He can't break his heart; not after everything Diavolo has done for him and his child. Why now? He's not ready.

Suddenly, Lucifer was huddled over in pain, arms wrapped around his expanding belly. It hurt so much worse than last time; he couldn't even hear Diavolo's voice at first.

Suddenly, the prince cradled his face with both hands and made Lucifer look up at him. Those warm golden eyes...will he ever be good enough for them?

Lucifer wasn't sure how long his belly continued to stretch, but eventually it subsided and Diavolo was hugging him so tightly that pregnant man couldn't breath for a good minute.

"D-Dia..." The man barely choked out his name.

The prince jumped back like he was on fire, realizing his mistake.

"I-I'm so sorry!" Dia stuttered out. "Are you both okay??"

He took Luce's hand in his and laid his other hand on the man's belly.

That's when Lucifer noticed just how big his belly had become. His eyes went as wide as they could go. His belly was so large that it pushed up his maternity shirt all the way to his chest.

That's when it happened. A kick. The child...his baby kicked inside him and by the look on the redhead's face, he could tell Dia felt it too.

No no no no...this can't be happening. It can't be. He lost so much needed time. He likely was only a hair away from going into labor before his love calmed him. He lost so much time.

Lucifer was crying and this time, he knew he was. Because of course he was! How else could he express all the pain and fear and self-hatred he felt?

Another son of his was going to be tortured. Because of him. There's no way he can fix his inner turmoil before the birth now. It was his fault--

"I'm so sorry."

Luce looked down into the other man's eyes and saw him crying too.

"I did this to you." Dia squeezed his hand. "Not just in this moment. I...I started this with my impatience, my great need to love you."

Lucifer couldn't help it; he brought both hands to cup his love's face, wiping some tears away with his thumb before pulling him in for a kiss, long and sweet. A kiss so powerful that neither man felt strong enough to break it for the longest time.

When they did, they leaned into each other, forehead to forehead, and kept their eyes closed as they caught their breath and breathed in the scent of the other.

Finally, Lucifer's eyes fluttered open and he noticed something from the corner of his vision.

The ring.

Diavolo had dropped it during the episode and it fell out of the box and onto the dirt.

It broke Lucifer's heart to see something this man cherished so much to lie in the dirt.

"Diavolo..."

The other man opened his eyes and saw his love trying and failing to reach the ring.

The redhead picked it off the ground and carefully put it in his love's hand.

The pride demon gently brushed the dirt off of it before closing his hand over it.

"I'd like to watch over this for you." Lucifer looked up into the prince's beautiful golden eyes. "Would you please let me?"

Dia gave his love a soft smile.

"Of course, my Light." He told him. "May I...put it on your finger?"

The other man nodded before giving the ring back and giving him his hand.

Dia held his love's hands as he slowly slid the ring on his finger. Despite the swelling, the ring fit well enough on his finger, but would probably need resized at some point.

The prince kissed the ring and Luce's hand.

The pride demon gave a small smile to the other man before it fell once more.

"For now...I'd like to practice referring to you as my...my boyfriend." He told his love, a bit uncomfortable with the commitment that rang with the word. "As I get more comfortable, we can let the labels evolve. For now, however...this is what I need."

"I understand, my Light." Dia leaned in and kissed his cheek.

The couple has both gained and lost potential in this situation. Lucifer will likely never save his child; that's what he believed. Still, the progress he has made shouldn't be understated and has the ability to bring his relationship with Diavolo to levels he thought he could only dream about.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me dialuci #tearjerker

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sagaduwyrm · 1 year

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I write something! I did it! The muse didn't even suddenly abandon me partway through!

Against the Smoke of the City (I Marched)

There is a city called Gotham that doesn't exist, but by god the Daily Planet is going to find it. Or Gotham is so cursed the outside world doesn't even know it's there, but that's nothing in the face of a reporter's curiosity.

Just off I-nine in New Jersey, there is a city that doesn't exist.

Clark knows this because for weeks the Daily Planet has been researching every piece of evidence they could find to prove the city that doesn't exist, did exist.

It started with a piece on the richest companies in the world where the numbers just wouldn't add up. It was Marlene Samson's first big piece, and she was crying when she came to Dean Jones, the Daily Planet's best eye for tax returns and accounting, certain she had to have done something wrong. The rest of the Planet assumed that would be the end of it, extending Marlene their sympathies for running into so many problems on her first big job, but certain it would be solved soon with Dean looking at it.

It was not.

Three weeks later, Dean came in with raccoon eyes, greasy hair, and a four foot pile of files that he had to make Clark help him carry.

Apparently, Marlene didn't do anything wrong, it was just that there was a whole multi-billion dollar company somewhere on the East Coast that existed in government tax data, agreements with other companies, and nowhere else.

It should be noted that even as a company that regularly reported on alien invasions, Superman's love life, and Lex Luthor's newest schemes, this was not the conspiracy the Daily Planet expected to find on an average day.

The crown jewel of Dean's coffee-fueled hallucinogenic research binge was a series of photos of an unfamiliar logo for one Wayne Industries on a variety of products from luxury cars, to prosthetic limbs, to the coffee maker in the office, often covered by a sticker from whatever company didn't want to admit they were reselling the products of a nonexistent corporation. Under each logo was a minuscule maker's mark that said, "Made in New Jersey."

This was about when the whole thing stopped being a personal project and became a company-wide mystery that the Daily Planet was determined to solve.

Diane and Thea were the next to come up with something. They were the history buffs of the group, the ones who wrote about the historical value of such-and-such building or how this event a century ago affected the city today. Real interesting stuff, if a little niche for some of their readers.

"The New Jersey Mystery" it was called.

It was a whole thing for anyone interested in the historical urban development of the New England area. Clark didn't claim to understand it, but Diane said that a large number of historians, amateur and professional, believed that there was something off about the socio-economic development of New Jersey, particularly in the lack of big cities. According to the historical and modern shipping routes, there should have been a harbor city as big as Metropolis in the area, but there just… wasn't. It was, frankly, baffling and mildly concerning to most historians, according to Thea.

It wasn't hard to guess that a missing city and a missing company were more likely than not connected.

Catt Grant was the next to dig something up, finding an old piece from the gossip section about some kind of scandal, written by one Vicki Vale. Dale, the IT guy, managed to find some emails from her time in Metropolis that identified the mystery city as sitting on the Mullica River, next to the Great Bay. Mrs. Vale complained extensively about the swamp land around the city, apparently caused by a dam being built where it shouldn't some fifty years ago, now spread to the entire area. The waters were known to be toxic enough to kill a swimmer, but not dangerous enough for the municipal government to do something.

That was just the beginning of it. Jack found police reports about a mafioso that was to be sent back to New Jersey to be tried with the rest of his group. Stella traced charity funds back to a foundation in the city. Sawyer and Thea managed to make a model of the supposed dam, putting an exact location to the place.

So.

Just off I-nine in New Jersey, there is a city that doesn't exist. They don't know its name, size, or population, just that money comes flowing out, legally and illegally, but people stay in.

And it is Clark and Lois's responsibility to prove that it does exist, and, hopefully, to figure out why it's on no map, spoken by no human tongue, and invisible to satellites and Superman's gaze.

+++

They take a bus first. They'd both prefer to drive themselves, but James Pierceson managed to get an interview that suggested that only people who'd been before could find the city they were looking for. A train was out too, as even if the conductor was a native of the place, it still only had a small chance of passing through the city. That was all James had gotten out of his interview, though. Nothing about the city itself, the company that drew Daily Planet's eyes, nothing. Just how to get in, and a warning to make sure they could still get out afterward.

The bus is their only real option. It's a creaky old thing, grimy in all the wrong ways, but it had the only driver they found that knew where they were going.

Clark stares out the window as they ride, eyes on the road so he knows how to come back if he needs to. He watches as the woods slowly change into swamp land, filled with strange, nasty , brackish water that smells too much like corpses for comfort.

Lois is beside him, typing on her laptop, putting together everything they've found so far, ready for whatever they find in the city. She looks up when she feels him tense against her shoulder, just in time to see the sign as the bus passes.

Turn Back All, nailed to a half-dead tree, rusted red and falling apart.

"Just a little joke folks, the locals aren't fond of tourists so they like to scare 'em off if they can. Just means we're getting close."

The rest of the bus is seemingly mollified by the bus driver's words, chattering about the fun local custom, but Clark's eyes are on the next sign, peeking out of the foliage on the other side of the bus.

Beware.

The bus goes silent.

Danger.

Leave This Place.

Warning: Death.

They just keep showing up, one after the other even as the sky gets darker with clouds and the rot in the air gets thicker. Some are clearly set up by the city, with neat lines and bright colors. Some are probably made by the citizens, big pieces of wood or metal covered in messy paint. A few are just paint on the trees, dripping like blood.

Go Away.

This Place is Not Safe.

Get Out.

"They might as well have said 'Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here,'" Lois mutters.

Clark snorts, but his eyes stay up. The bus is turning a corner, and a city is finally visible through the thick foliage.

It was tall, is Clark's first thought. There aren't any suburbs of short little houses for the bourgeoisie, no industrial outskirts, just crumbling brutalist architecture and gothic decor right from the entrance.

He can finally hear the city too. He doesn't know why he couldn't before, how it hid from Kryptonian ears, but it echoes in his ears now, gunshots and sirens and screams and whispers. He can't hear anything else on top of the noise, like the rest of the world no longer exists even to Superman's ears. He would have been afraid if his mind had room for it.

The bus is being swallowed, Clark was suddenly sure. The signs were the teeth of the great and terrible city he sees before him and soon they would pass through the maw and enter the place of no return. Soon they would be in the throat and it would convulse and throw them downward and then the city would digest them alive. Whatever was left would not be the same as what entered.

The bus stops at a rickety station just inside the city. The bus driver turns to them as the doors open and his smile is friendly but his eyes are distant and tired.

"Welcome to Gotham," he said. "The most cursed city in America."

"Good luck."

#cursed gotham #hidden gotham #clark kent #lois lane #daily planet #gotham is cursed #wayne industries #batfam #kind of #reporter clark kent #mystery #fanfiction #my fic #my writing #gotham can't be found if you don't already know where it is #please enjoy this #i need the serotonin

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andnowanowl · 6 months

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That Time the Neighborhood Got Swarmed by False Chinch Bugs

Back in June of 2020, the neighborhood where I lived in El Paso got swarmed by billions of false chinch bugs. Each bug is about the size of a grain of rice.

I noticed only a few at first. I thought it slightly odd that there were so many (haha, if I only knew) of these true bugs on the ground. I figured that there had been a hatching of them and moved on with my day. The next day, bam! I went outside and there were millions upon millions of them everywhere. I could hear them moving, there were so many. It sounded like sand constantly moving. I ducked back inside and saw, to my dismay, they were infiltrating the house. Literally crawling through any crack they could find in their search of plants to suck the moisture from. They were between the panes of the windows.

Since this was 2020, I rolled my eyes and said, "Great, it's another one of the plagues of Egypt." I had a hell of a time trying to keep these things out - my jelly-brained bastard of an ex was not helpful at all. He just cringed at the prospect of these things coming into the house. We could not kill them en masse because there were billions of these things swarming the neighborhood, killing the plants. So I looked up some ways to keep them out of the house, which included leaving out vinegar and plugging up holes. It was...marginally successful.

They crawled over us as we slept (much to my OCD ex's eternal dismay). I wouldn't have minded that too much, since I grew up in the countryside and bugs crawling on you happens sometimes. But they bit. Google claims they do not and it is a liar. Their bites did not feel like mosquito bites (more like horse fly bites) and they itched a little. After two days, I finally ID'd them and discovered that they could stay for weeks. Sometimes six. My ex's mother straight-up booked a motel rather than sleep in the house.

Two sleep-deprived weeks later, they finally, finally started to leave. Their dead carcasses lay in piles between the panes of the windows of the house. Some kind of pest control was supposed to have come out to spray them a week prior, but the swarm was of such a magnitude (probably multiple streets) that I'm not sure they did out of fear of poisoning people. I had spent several days fighting these things off my mother-in-law's houseplant and it lost a single leaf from the ordeal. After the bugs left after about another week, I went out to the backyard and every plant, including the hardy native ones that can survive the June heat, was shriveled up and bone dry.

#2020 #true bugs #swarm #false chinch bugs

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newstfionline · 1 year

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Tuesday, January 17, 2023

Business trusted most in a more polarized world, report says (AP) People worldwide are more gloomy about their economic prospects than ever before and trust business far more than other institutions like governments, nonprofits and the media in an increasingly divided world, according to a survey from public relations firm Edelman. Released late Sunday to coincide with the World Economic Forum’s gathering of business elites and government leaders this week in Davos, Switzerland, the online survey conducted in 28 countries shows that fewer people believe their family will be better off in five years. Those who believe they’ll be better off dropped to 40% from 50% last year and hit all-time lows in 24 nations. That is because 89% fear losing their job, 74% worry about inflation, 76% are concerned about climate change and 72% worry about nuclear war. The Edelman Trust Barometer also says 62% of respondents see business as both competent and ethical, compared with 59% for nongovernmental agencies, 51% for governments and 50% for the media.

In tornado-ravaged Selma, prayers of thanks (AP) Leading Sunday services on the lawn outside his tornado-damaged Crosspoint Christian Church, the Rev. David Nichols told his congregation there was much for which to be grateful despite the destruction around them. The tornado that ravaged Selma hit the church’s daycare. It destroyed much of the building, collapsing walls and leaving piles of rubble in some of the classrooms, but the 70 children and teachers who huddled inside bathrooms were unharmed. “Nothing but by the grace of God that they walked out of there,” Nichols said as he looked at the building. The Sunday after a tornado devastated much of the historic city of Selma, church congregations raised up prayers of gratitude for lives spared and gave prayers of comfort for lives lost elsewhere to the storm.

New York Mayor says “no room” in his city for migrants (Reuters) The mayor of New York traveled to the Mexican border city of El Paso on Sunday and declared that “there is no room in New York” for busloads of migrants being sent to America’s most populous city. Eric Adams, a Democrat, was also critical of the administration of Democratic U.S. President Joe Biden, saying “now is the time for the national government to do its job” about the immigrant crisis at America’s southern border. The visit of a New York mayor to a southern border city about the issue of immigrants is unprecedented. Busloads of migrants have been shipped north to New York and other cities by Republican run states. That has exacerbated a housing crisis in New York and a worsening homeless crisis in the city. Adams’s trip to El Paso comes after he said the migrant influx into New York could cost the city as much as $2 billion, at a time when the city is already facing a major budget shortfall.

UK faces further disruption as teachers set to announce strike action (Reuters) Teachers in England and Wales are set to announce strike action later on Monday, joining nurses, rail workers and others in staging industrial action in a further headache for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak’s government. Sunak is coming under increasing pressure to try to resolve pay disputes with hundreds of thousands of workers following months of strikes which have caused widespread disruption. With inflation running at more than 10%, workers from multiple sectors are demanding higher wages. The NEU said the government had offered its members a 5% pay rise which it says equates to a pay cut due to spiralling prices. Low pay for teachers has also pushed many to leave the profession, the union said.

Dwindling Snow Leaves Swiss Alpine Villages Staring at an Identity Crisis (NYT) It was the last thing Simon Bissig, a ski resort director, wanted to see as he trudged into the Swiss Alps guesthouse on a January day. The bright wooden lodge should have been crowded with parents sipping hot drinks as they cheered on children gliding down the slopes. Instead, it was empty, and in place of frosty windows, the panes were lashed with rain. Where guests would have dined, an unlikely crisis session was being held. Marketing advisers reviewed plans for what had become a gnawing, existential question: What could be done with a ski resort without enough snow? As the planet warms, Europe has faced a bruising year of climate crises. In the summer, many regions suffered severe drought and record heat. Already this year, some areas have seen the highest-recorded winter temperatures—so warm that many ski resorts could not even make snow. For Switzerland, whose glaciers and snowpack form a crucial storehouse for European water supplies, the effect has been especially alarming. The country is warming at more than double the rate of the global mean and its glaciers lost 6 percent of their volume in the last year alone, according to Swiss federal authorities and a glacier monitoring group. The changes pose a risk to some parts of a Swiss ski industry that by some estimates generates around $5.5 billion a year.

Thousands turn out to bid farewell to Greece’s former king (AP) Thousands of people lined up since before dawn on Monday outside Athens’ cathedral to pay their final respects to Greece’s former and last king, Constantine, who died last week at the age of 82. Greece’s monarchy was definitively abolished in a referendum in 1974, and Constantine spent decades in exile, living mainly in London, before returning to settle in his home country once more in his waning years. The government announced after his death that Constantine would be buried as a private citizen, without honors reserved for former heads of state, in Tatoi, the former royal estate north of Athens, next to where his parents and ancestors are buried. Royals from across Europe, including the Spanish and Danish royal families who were closely related to Constantine, were in Athens to attend the service and burial. Constantine’s wife, Anne-Marie, is the sister of Denmark’s Queen Margrethe II, while his sister Sophia is the wife of Spain’s former King Juan Carlos, and mother of Spain’s current monarch, King Felipe VI.

Aftermath of Russian Strike on Apartments (NYT) More than 24 hours after a heavy-duty missile built to sink ships exploded in a dense Ukrainian cityscape of homes and shops, the lights of emergency workers played across the rubble on Sunday, in search of life. As smoke and dust rose into the Dnipro sky, a light dusting of snow began to accumulate on five victims who had been pulled from the rubble and laid out in body bags in a small grassy area next to the destroyed building. They were five of 30 confirmed killed in a Russian strike on a civilian neighborhood—79 were injured—and at least 30 people remained unaccounted for. “I have no words, I have no emotions, I feel nothing except a great emptiness inside,” one 23-year-old woman, Anastasiia Shvets, wrote on social media. An image of Ms. Shvets from the scene of the attack struck a chord with Ukrainians across the country. It shows a young woman clutching a stuffed animal and a golden Christmas garland as she stands in the ruins and waits to be rescued. Ms. Shvets somehow emerged with only a small head wound and bruises on her legs. But her parents, she wrote on a verified account on Instagram, were still missing. And her partner, who was serving in the Ukrainian military, was killed in action four months ago.

Surviving Yakutsk, the world’s coldest city (Reuters) Temperatures have plunged to minus 50 degrees Celsius (-58 Fahrenheit) this week in Yakutsk during an abnormally long cold snap in the Siberian city known as the coldest on earth. Located 5,000 km (3,100 miles) east of Moscow on the permafrost of the Russian Far East, residents of the mining city often see the thermometer regularly drop well below minus 40. “You can’t fight it. You either adjust and dress accordingly or you suffer,” said Anastasia Gruzdeva, outside in two scarves, two pairs of gloves and multiple hats and hoods. Another resident, Nurgusun Starostina, who sells frozen fish at a market without the need for a fridge or freezer, said there were no special secrets to deal with the cold. “Just dress warmly,” she said. “In layers, like a cabbage!”

Tracking rising religious hatred in India, from half a world away (Washington Post) Raqib Hameed Naik stood in his tidy American kitchen, feeling torn about his secret life. On the one hand, he was safe from the Indian government, and far from the death threats and the late-night knocks on his parents’ door. On the other hand, he was essentially in hiding, working on a scrappy secret data project to track hate crimes in India. Naik, 29, is the founder of HindutvaWatch.org, one of the most robust real-time data sets of human rights abuses in the world’s largest democracy. Using video and picture evidence submitted by a network of Indian activists, along with news aggregation, the site tracks hate crimes by Hindus against Muslims, Christians and members of the lower-ranked castes. Since its founding in April 2021, it has catalogued more than 1,000 instances of violent attacks and rhetoric. (Hindutva refers to political ideology that advocates for Hindu supremacy.) It is likely an undercount, Indian political experts said. Still, the website has angered the increasingly authoritarian government of right-wing Prime Minister Narendra Modi, which critics charge promotes the idea that the Hindu majority is superior and tolerates deadly crimes against Muslims and Christians.

Chinese city dwellers head to hometowns as holidays raise COVID stakes (Reuters) Passengers laden with luggage flocked to rail stations in China’s megacities on Monday, heading to their hometowns for holidays that health experts fear could intensify a raging COVID-19 outbreak in areas less-equipped to handle it. “I haven’t been home for over three years,” a 23-year old Beijing resident surnamed Chen told Reuters as he waited to board a train at the capital’s main rail station. “I am sure I will be very emotional once I reach the doorstep of my home.” More than 2 billion trips across China are expected in the weeks around the holidays, its transport ministry has estimated.

A rocking party, decades on (NYT) On Friday nights, a crowd gathers at a nightclub in Ann Arbor, Mich., to drink, flirt and dance to live rock music. The party’s official name is “Ann Arbor Happy Hour at Live,” but it’s also affectionately known as the “Geezer Dance Party.” That’s because almost the entire crowd is over 65. “I call us the silver tsunami,” said Randy Tessier, a 72-year-old University of Michigan lecturer who organizes the event. “There’s a lot of us, and we still want to rock.” The gathering is the latest version of a musical happy hour that has been happening since the 1970s, and some regulars have been coming for over 50 years. “It is the most wonderful thing in my life,” Maggie Levenstein said. “It makes me happy every single week.”

#headlines #news

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

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GF - We’re Coming Back Home

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, the last one I plan to do, in collaboration with @clownwry.

1st, 2nd, 3rd.

~~~~~~~~~~

Somehow, miraculously, through all of Ford’s traveling, through countless dimensions, his Quantum Destabilizer remained on his back and fully intact.

Okay, well, mostly intact. Partially intact.

When he was finally ready to attack Bill and put an end to his reign of terror, his plans had been put on hold when a crack in space-time opened. He didn’t dare hope that it was a way home, but maybe if he aimed correctly, the shot would not only kill Bill, but fly him home. But no, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young girl fly out of the hole, and with reflexes he developed over thirty years of staying alive in the worst circumstances, he hooked his Quantum Destabilizer onto his back, caught the girl, and swam through the gravity-less air for safety, hiding behind an asteroid, putting a hand over the girl’s mouth and hissing for her silence, swearing she would be okay, and they barely made it out as Bill’s words echoed through the Nightmare Realm.

“Sixer’s caught a Shooting Star, boys!”

Ford had no idea what that was supposed to mean at the time, but now a month later, he thinks he finally understood. His niece, Shermie’s granddaughter, Mabel, loved stars, and was very much like one herself. Always shining. Always so bright and full of hope. Many times in history, and even today in other dimensions, runaway slaves used the stars as maps to guide them to a better place. Ford often wondered if Mabel was his star, maybe not guiding him physically to a safe haven, but guiding him to a happier mindset. Guiding him to a life that isn’t completely isolated. Guiding him to a life that included love.

The last few weeks have been challenging, sure, but not that much more challenging than traveling alone; Mabel was a fast learner, and while she refused to use a knife or gun (“Cuz those hurt, Grunkle Ford!”), she was perfectly comfortable with pop-rocks and making foes lose their footing and fall down so they couldn’t attack. And she was very good at hunting for food and water and other reliable resources.

In fact, Ford would easily say the last few weeks have been the happiest of his life. Maybe only tying with when Fiddleford joined him in Gravity Falls, before work on the portal became dangerous, but after he realized that maybe the woods had been too quiet the last six years.

After just a day and a half, Ford was fully-aware of his attachment to his niece and how much it would ruin him if he lost her. Mabel was everything a good person strives to be: kind, sweet, a pleasure to be around, but not a pushover, either; Mabel Pines knew how to stand her ground.

And so the last month was littered with so many happy memories. Ford was a little hurt when she “borrowed” two broken fishing poles and fixed them up so they could fish, but he very quickly enjoyed sitting on a log by a river and fishing with Mabel. Ford found it brought her much comfort to brush her hair, and he also discovered he enjoyed a calm brush himself. Ford found he didn’t mind the extra weight of his niece on his shoulders; quite the contrary, he found it comforting, and he was always swallowed with peace when she was so relaxed with him that she fell asleep, using his fluffy gray hair as a pillow.

No longer was Ford met with suspicious looks when he walked down the street of a market alone, face hidden. Quite the opposite. He was always met with smiles and warm greetings, and sometimes a little extra food was thrown into a purchase for free. Be it because people saw him as a parent with an adorable child, or because of Mabel’s charm. Or both.

The dimensions they came across were random and different, just like it was when Ford traveled alone. Some dimensions were like an alien sci-fi movie, completely different with no humans. Some dimensions were scaringly like home, with a small difference here and there. Ironically, the alien-like dimensions were typically safer, because they were used to travelers and weird-looking creatures.

But Ford guessed it would be okay if he and Mabel stepped into a normal grocery store to buy some food.

They had come across a “normal” dimension, and while Ford’s first thought was to retreat for the woods, he heard Mabel’s stomach growl, and he decided her health was more important. So they stepped in and kept to themselves.

Ford and Mabel were picking up crackers when the little girl grinned at rows of cereals behind them. “Grunkle Ford, can I please pick a cereal?” She asked politely.

The old scientist thought about it for a moment. Cereal would definitely cover a few meals and be light and easy to carry, and it wouldn’t get hold too quickly, and he had wanted to get her at least one nice thing while in the store, so he nodded and said, “Yes, dear, you may pick one box. Any flavor you want.”

“Thank you!” And Mabel took the time to hug him before skipping over to the cereals to look.

Ford chuckled and picked some crackers, then decided to browse the fruit snacks, debating if it would be wise. Probably not, because if they get stuck in another desert climate the gummies could melt and make a mess, but they could make a good snack for Mabel. He held his chin, debating the idea, while a couple was also looking over the cereals.

“Which do you think Dad would want?” The yellow-haired woman asked.

“Honey, who cares what Rick wants? Just get a cereal you’ll like.” The husband said with an eye roll.

Ford froze at that name. No no, that was most definitely a different Rick. It was a common enough name, and there were billions of dimensions. There was no way Ford and Mabel somehow managed to stumble into C-137. He ultimately decided against gummies and he then looked at the trail mixes and granola bars. Both were always a good option.

“I know, but I want him to feel welcome, you know?” The wife said as she picked a box. “He’s been travelling in space alone for years…”

Oh no. No, no, no. Ford quickly chose some packets of trail mix and several granola bars and hurried back to his niece. He was not going to do this today. Nope.

Mabel grinned at him, a box of cereal in hand, and she held it out to him. “Look, Grunkle Ford, do you like this flavor? I can pick a different one if you want.”

“Oh, thank you, my dear, but I like the one you picked.” Ford did a decent job masking his uneasiness and he took her hand and smiled. “Why don’t we pick up some fruit for today, and then we’ll go fishing for dinner?”

“Yay! Sounds great!”

Ford didn’t miss the yellow-haired woman smiling at them as they left the aisle. If that was who he thought it was… She really didn’t look anything like him. She might have just favored her mother. Who else would have spent years traveling space? Bastard.

Ford may have hated him for many reasons, but choosing to abandon his girls was at the top of the list.

At the checkout line, Ford nervously watched the total of their purchase go up with each beep. He recounted their cash and made a small list of items in his mind for them to go down if they couldn’t afford everything. A few granola bars can go. And, maybe they could find band-aids elsewhere and “borrow” them.

The worker rang up the last item and Ford smiled when he saw the total was 29.89. He had thirty. But then the worker pressed the total button and taxes were added. Shit, right. That made their total 35.45. Ford winced. Mabel looked up at him worriedly, but she smiled and stood on her tippy-toes to see the worker better.

“Hi, I’m Mabel! Can you please put the cereal back? We don’t really need it.”

Ford looked down at her, surprised and also a little disheartened. He had really wanted to get her at least one nice thing, but truth be told the cereal was the most expensive item, so it made sense to get rid of it first. Still, it sucked.

“Total’s now 32.14.”

Ford bit his lip. “Very well, may we please put the band-aids back, too?”

The worker nodded, seeming tired and annoyed, but they didn’t say a word. Blissfully, the total went down to 29.99.

With hands full of bags, Mabel and Ford paused at the beginning of the parking lot to move their groceries into their backpacks. While they worked, the old scientist said, “I’m sorry I could afford your cereal, Mabel.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” The girl said instantly. “I’ve got something even sweeter.” And she grinned at her grunkle and gave him a warm smile.

Ford smiled back at her tiredly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do.” Mabel insisted and hugged him around the neck, nuzzling her face into his shoulder and determined to sink as much comfort as she could into his skin. “I love you Grunkle Ford. Please don’t beat yourself up, m’k?”

Ford hugged her back and petted her short brown hair. It was certainly easier to feel better with a ball of sunshine in his arms.

They both heard rustling behind them as a buggy rolled from the door to the parking lot. They both looked behind Mabel and saw a bag with the cereal and the band-aids in it. They looked around and saw no one, except for the yellow-haired woman and her husband going to their car.

Mabel grinned and hollered to them, “Thank you!”

They didn’t respond, but the woman did smile and wave before putting groceries into her car. As appreciated as Ford was for her kindness, he wanted to get as far away from her as possible. No offense to her. She seemed like a very lovely lady.

But then it hit Ford like a pile of rocks. What was it he had said before he had pulled out his gun and left Ford to travel alone? “And hey, if you ever wanna travel without customs or waiting for wormholes to open, don’t come looking for me.” And then he winked and fell backwards into a pool of green, leaving Ford to curse his name.

If this was like before, when Ford was alone, he wouldn’t dare. But if he could help get Mabel home…

Ford took Mabel’s hand and muttered, “Come with me.” And she followed without question.

Beth felt good helping the old man and the little girl, and she didn’t expect anything more. Really, it was only five dollars worth of stuff. But she was happy when they started to walk towards her, so she trusted Jerry to finish loading up the car and she smiled at them.

“Excuse me, miss, I just want to thank you for what you did.” The old man said.

“Oh, you’re welcome, it was no trouble at all.”

“I… I hope I’m not being too invasive, but… but I believe you know someone I know.”

Beth smiled. Small world! “Really? That’s great! Oh, are you a relative of Dave’s? Or, you know, I do know a lot of people indirectly from the horse-track.”

“Er, no.” The old man gave her a more serious look, and then asked quietly, “Do you know Rick Sanchez?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Beth was so excited to give Stanford Pines and his niece, Mabel, a ride, and to invite them to dinner, not only because she thought seeing an old friend might make her dad smile, but maybe she’ll learn more about what he’s been up to all these years. The man was very polite and the girl was as sweet as can be, both of whom looked rough and in need of a cozy bed and maybe a soothing bath. Jerry was a little unsure, not wanting “more Ricks” into his house, but after a huf from the girl and a cheerful greeting, Jerry couldn’t help but tell the girl she was more than welcome, so now he was roped in.

Mabel noticed that her uncle looked distracted. He was looking out his window, but his eyes were elsewhere. He was thinking. So she decided to try to help him with his thoughts. “Grunkle Ford, who’s Rick Sanchez?” She asked quietly.

Ford looked at her, sighed quietly, and muttered, “He’s an intergalactic scientist. He’s ridiculously intelligent and clever, and… a bit…” Ford pursed his lips. All the words that came to mind he didn’t want Mabel hearing, so he settled on. “... mad.”

“Oh. Is he like a real mad-scientist?” Mabel asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Yes, but with less laughter, more slurs and sluggish demeanor, and even less consideration of other living things.”

Mabel noticed his cold tone and grew concerned. “You don’t like him, do you?”

Ford bit his lip. No, he didn’t. But there was a more important reason why he didn’t want to see Rick today.

Mabel leaned in closer and whispered, “Is he mean?”

Trust Mabel to sum it up perfectly for her uncle. “Yes.” Ford said just as quietly. “And I don’t want him meeting you.”

“Why?”

Ford hesitated. But being blunt and honest seemed to be working, and it was best for Mabel to prepare herself for the lion’s den they were walking into. “I don’t want him to hurt your feelings.” a bit elementary, but it was the best way to explain it to a child without scaring her too much.

Mabel, however, grinned. “Grunkle Ford, no one can resist the Power of Mabel.”

Ford smiled and ruffled her hair softly. “We’ll see…”

“So, if you don’t like Mr. Sanchez, then why are we going to go see him?”

“He’s an expert on interdimensional-travel.” Ford informed her. “He might know how to get us home.”

Mabel’s eyes widened and she “oh”ed as she realized what was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~

The garage door was open to let in good lighting and fresh air. But that wasn’t an invitation to come in whenever people feel like it; Rick will have to work on a security system to keep nosy neighbors away. He was opening a box and getting organized when he heard his daughter’s car roll into the driveway. He didn’t bother to look up, instead waited for the sounds of car doors opening to say something.

“Hey sweetie, welcome back.”

“Dad,” Beth said, sounding giddy. Rick hated giddy. But he had only been here for a week and he didn’t feel like making his daughter hate him just yet, so he settled for rolling his eyes and continuing what he was doing. “I have a surprise for you!”

“Wow! You have a nice house! Cool garage, too!” A young voice said.

Rick was halted. He turned in his chair and raised an eyebrow to find a young girl with short brown hair and braces holding hands with an old nerd with fluffy charcoal hair, glasses, and six fingers.

“Oh my God!” Rick laughed. “Holy-...” A dark look from the old traveler made Rick stop; he can piss him off later. First he needs to figure out why the hell he is here and what the hell he wants. “Jeez, you look terrible, Fordsie.” The mad scientist snorted as he leaned against his desk with his hands in his pockets.

Ford rolled his eyes and said, “And you still look like a soft breeze will blow you away, Sanchez.”

Mabel bit her lip and quietly, “Oooooh”ed, like she was listening to a rap battle.

“So,” Beth stretched, clearly hoping for more information or a more satisfying reunion, but she wasn’t getting it naturally, so she decided to push a little. “How do you two know each other?”

“The Multiverse is a pretty big place, sweetie.” Rick answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll have this nerd gone before you finish unloading the car. Don’t want to risk another mass genocide.” He sneered.

Ford’s face turned red and he yelled, “I didn’t know it was a planet! It looked too similar to a sandwich for it to be a planet!”

Rick laughed and looked at the little girl. She looked maybe a little younger than Morty. “Who’s that you got with you?”

Ford closed his eyes, debating if he should tell Rick it wasn’t any of his business, or get the introduction over with. But before he could make a decision, Mabel beat him to the punch.

She let go of Rick’s hand, hopped to him, and looked up at his bean-pole stature and smiled and waved. “Hi! I’m Mabel! You’re a scientist, too? Cool! I like your hair! How old are you? Have you ever met a dinosaur? What’s your favorite food?”

Rick blinked like a startled lizard at the girl, glanced up at Ford, and then looked back down at Mabel. Rick smiled and sat in his chair to be closer to her level, and held out a hand to shake, which she happily accepted and shook a little rough. “Hey there, I’m Rick. Yes, I’m a scientist. Thank you, I like your hair, too. Yes, I’ve met a dinosaur, several in different dimensions. And, pancakes.”

Mabel’s eyes sparkled. “I love pancakes, too! Maybe we can make some together!”

“Maybe, but I’ve got the feeling that’s not why you’re here.” Rick suggested kindly. And no, Ford wasn’t at all suspicious that he was being kind to Mabel.

“Oh! Yeah! Grunkle Ford thinks you can help us get home.”

“Huh. You’re great-uncle, huh? Sure, okay, let’s get started.” Rick rolled over to a cabinet and took out an odd machine. It came with a tiny needle and was attached to the machine by a small black wire, and the boxed machine had a screen of some sort on the side. “Mind if I prick your finger?”

“Sure!” Mabel held out her finger to him and Rick carefully held her wrist and pricked her finger, so small she hardly noticed it. “What for?”

“I need a blood sample to find your home dimension. Gotta send you to the right dimension.” Rick explained. “Fordsie, lemme get yours, too. How’d you two find each other, anyways?”

“I was in the Nightmare Realm when some idiot opened a portal and this little starshine fell into my arms.” Ford explained, stepping forward and giving Rick his finger.

“Okay, got it.” Rick said. “Well, there’s a possibility that you two come from different dimensions. Nothing too different about your homes, but there’s millions of dimensions. The probability that you two came from the same timeline and reality… there we go. It’s a match. That makes things easier.”

The small heart attack Ford was having went away. The idea of his starshine not being his was a nightmare. His life was complicated enough; he didn’t need his girl to not actually be his.

“Dimension 41’\. Huh, okay, gimme two seconds…” Rick pulled out his trusty portal gun and plugged it into the machine. A long list of dimensions popped up, and Ford prayed 41’\ would be on the list. “You two are lucky. I can go as far as 42’\, but the other 40s are out of range. Huh, i’ll have to work on that.”

“So,” Mabel grinned. “You can get us home?”

Rick smiled smugly and shrugged as he stood. “Yeah, sure.”

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cheered and hurled herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it! I’m gonna see Dipper again! I can’t wait for you to meet him!”

Ford smiled softly. He couldn’t believe it. It was all happening so fast and effortlessly. He was going to get Mabel home. They were both going home. Suddenly the idea of seeing Stanley again, meeting his grandnephew and all of Mabel’s friends and her pet pig sounded… a lot. He didn’t realize it, but he was becoming anxious and spacing out. But Mabel noticed, and she kissed his stubbly cheek and brought him back to reality.

Rick shot at the wall with his gun and an oozing green portal appeared. “There we go, 41’\. Wait, sh-oot, gimme a location.”

“618 Gopher Road.” Ford stated as he let go of Mabel. “Gravity Falls, Oregon. USA.”

“Got it.” Rick made the last portal disappear and shot a new one. “There. Now get-... Go on home.”

Mabel stepped up to Rick and said sincerely, “Mr. Sanchez, thank you for helping us.” And she hugged him around his tall skinny legs.

Rick pursed his lips awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to such positive energy and kindness. The old scientists looked at each other, Ford giving Rick a warning look, but something hidden in his face or eyes told the drunk that the nomad was actually grateful for his illegal device.

“Uh…” Rick settled on patting Mabel’s head and said, “Y-Y-You’re welcome.”

Mabel let go of Rick and held out a hand to Ford. “Ready?”

“Nope.” Ford took her hand and squeezed it. “Let’s do this.”

And without another word, the Pines walked through the green portal.

#GF #gravity falls #rick and morty #fanfiction #crossover #drifting stars au #portal ford #there's not enough sweater-twins bonding in the world #and yes #i purposely used 41'\ instead of the canon 46'\#gift #clownwry

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guilty | knj x reader | chapter two: incheon mall tube tops

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.5K

notes: i really hope you guys are enjoying namjoon’s story! i think there will only be one more chapter after this. and like a true unfocused writer i started daydreaming about a yoongi one-shot to go with it? gah, nevermind. i really hope you guys like this and i’d love to hear how you feel one way or another. a huge thanks to my amazing beta @hobi-gif who does a hell of a lot more than just find typos. and all of my love has to go out to @ladyartemesia @ppersonna @taetaewonderland because all three of you are so much more than tumblr friends.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

**********************

It didn’t matter how hard you tried to hide your sadness, Namjoon saw it.

It didn’t matter how many hushed calls you tried to sneak, or how many smiles you tried to force -- Namjoon saw right through your act from the very beginning. He’d seen enough to know that you were facing some kind of personal battle. He understood enough about you to know that you were far too private to bring it up or ask for help.

He should have asked.

The question sat heavy on the tip of his tongue for weeks. He should have asked on the days he would spot you at your desk, fingers pressed to your temples in frustration. Or on the days when he would catch you staring out the window, mind a million miles away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he let himself be driven to distraction by the way your blouses fit perfectly against the lines of your body. The way your pencil skirts hugged the curve of your hips. How soft your hair looked pulled into the low, loose knot you favored.

He found himself stumbling over his words when you’d quietly slip into meetings to deliver an urgent message or he’d drift off in the middle of conversations just because he’d caught sight of you outside his office door.

So it wasn’t long before what started as a preoccupation turned into a full-blown fixation.

You’d turn up at his request, poised and professional as always -- and he’d be lost in thought, defiling you a thousand different ways in his head. Fantasizing about getting his hands on you, his mouth on you, his teeth on you.

You didn’t deserve that.

That’s why Namjoon kept his mouth shut -- stuck in a maddening cycle of wanting to help you, wanting to know you, just wanting you.

All of it made him feel guilty as hell.

*********************

The new girl is a fucking disaster.

Namjoon has yet to figure out how she manages to be underfoot at the most inconvenient times and simultaneously nowhere to be found when she’s needed. She misplaces files and misses calls and forgets assigned tasks altogether. He’s lost track of the number of times he’s passed her desk to find her taking pictures of herself; lips pouted, angle skewed.

Two weeks ago, she was probably selling tube tops at Incheon Mall and now she’s playing gatekeeper to one of the most powerful men in Seoul. So it’s not her fault that she’s woefully unprepared for this job.

And it’s not her fault that she’s not you.

Namjoon has spent the better part of the morning debating the call he’s about to make, picking up the phone and setting it back down at least half a dozen times. But he’s at the end of his rope, running out of patience and options.

So he swallows his pride and picks up the phone just one more time.

You answer on the first ring.

“Mister Kim.”

God, he’s missed the sound of your voice.

“Good morning,” he starts carefully, clearing his throat. “I’m certain you have a lot on your plate but I was wondering if you could come sit with the new girl for a few minutes. She’s struggling a bit.”

The line is quiet for a moment and Namjoon can practically hear your thoughts on the other end of the line. The ones that say well that’s what you get for replacing your perfectly competent assistant with a child.

“I left notes,” is the quiet reply that comes instead.

“You did.”

“Detailed notes. Written, detailed notes.”

“Yes,” Namjoon agrees, rubbing his fingers across his mouth. “I’m certain they were quite detailed. It’s just that she’s having trouble following those notes because --”

“Because she can’t read?”

Namjoon cringes. Any small hope he had that you weren’t taking your reassignment personally dies with the abrupt delivery of that statement.

“Apparently not,” he admits lamely.

He hears the quiet sigh you take in before answering.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

*************************

There’s a moment -- just after Seokjin has walked through his office door -- when Namjoon catches a glimpse of you.

You are leaned over the new girl’s desk, lips pursed, pointing something out on the computer screen. Namjoon freezes when you look up and lock eyes with him just as the door swings shut.

Christ, is he ever going to be able to look at you without feeling like he’s had the wind knocked out of him?

He turns to find Seokjin staring at him, one brow raised.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon exhales, shoving a hand through his hair as he walks back to his desk. “I’m fine. You said you wanted to talk about something?”

“I do,” Seokjin starts, helping himself to a seat. “Two things, actually. Both pertaining to the amazing new assistant you so generously gifted me.”

Namjoon’s nails dig into the palm of his hand.

“Go on.”

“Apparently she’s some kind of whiz with numbers,” Seokjin continues, unbothered by his strained response. “I gave her a few of the books to look over and she already found a couple of our guys in the Songpa district skimming off the top. I’ll bet there’s even more where that came from and she’ll find it. She’s got a good eye.”

Namjoon feels pride stir in his chest. Yet again, you exceed expectations.

“Send Yoongi and Hoseok to Songpa tonight,” he murmurs. “I’ll be curious to hear what kind of explanation our friends come up with for their lapses in accounting.”

Seokjin nods.

“Will do. So the other thing --” he pauses for a beat, like he’s trying to figure out how to carefully deliver what he has to say next. “I know you asked me to try and figure out what’s going on with her and I think I have. You’re right, she’s struggling with some personal issues.”

Namjoon leans forward in his chair, body rigid.

“Let me hear it.”

*************************

YOU

The new girl is a fucking disaster.

You have yet to figure out why she can’t work the printers or can’t read a simple spreadsheet when you know for fact she knows how to beam her selfies all the way to the goddamned moon.

It’s infuriating.

Just like it’s infuriating to see her seated at what should be your desk, doing what should be your job, working for the man who should be your boss.

Figure shit out, you’d love to tell her. Sink or swim, that’s how the real world works.

The idea of letting her fail so dismally that Namjoon has no choice but to beg for you back is tempting. But then he’d picked up the phone to personally ask you to help.

And apparently you are incapable of denying that man anything.

You’ve stayed late every day this week to review the spreadsheets Seokjin has given you to audit because of the extra time you’ve had to put aside to help the new girl navigate foreign concepts like filing and scheduling.

The numbers tell an interesting story.

The rumors about Kim Namjoon’s skill as a businessman don’t give him enough credit. Money is pouring into the Gajog, hand over fist, from every major district in the city. Billions of won flow into the organization from legitimate and not as legitimate revenue streams alike. Combine the numbers and Kim Namjoon controls an empire worth trillions.

You stare at the sums and your mind flips back to your unexpected pay raise. It’s no wonder Namjoon can afford to be so generous.

It’s no wonder so many of the street-level men who work for him seem to be helping themselves to more than their fair share.

It took you a few days to identify the patterns, comparing the new intake sheets to the old ones, but once you did the missing money practically jumped off the page. Just a few audits in and you’d already been able to find at least 119 million won unaccounted for.

The Kim Namjoon you know is reserved and unflappable -- but this is information that’s bound to piss even him off.

What is a man like him like when he’s angry?

You shudder at the thought.

Before long, the night sky stares back at you from the window across from your desk and you decide it’s well past time you went home. You sort everything into neat piles and leave yourself organized notes before packing up to leave.

***************************

There’s no answer from your mother when you call to her from the hallway.

You frown as you make your way to her bedroom, worry melting away when you find her asleep in her chair. Her head is bent at a sharp angle, and you immediately move to help her prop her up.

Her eyes open to slits, unfocused from sleep and medication.

“Ttal,” she whispers, grimacing as she straightens out the crick in her neck.

“Eomma,” you whisper in a hushed rebuke. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t fall asleep in this chair, it’s terrible for you.”

She nods slowly, pointing to a glass of water on her nightstand. You hand it to her, but it wobbles in her weak grip and you take hold of it to help her drink before setting it aside.

“I’m hurting tonight,” she admits.

“I know,” you sigh, heart breaking. “Come, let me help you into bed.”

The process is painstaking. You help hoist her frail frame out of the chair and over to the side of the bed then work carefully to help her lie back. There’s no meat on her anymore, just skin and bones, so you tuck her blankets carefully around her legs and arms until you’re certain she’s not shivering anymore.

You know this isn’t working.

It doesn’t matter how many calls you make over the course of a day to check in, or how many well-meaning neighbors drop in to help, leaving your mother alone for hours in this state is a dangerous gamble.

You fight back tears of frustration. You grew up without siblings and your father has been gone for years. Being alone is something you’ve had a long time to get used to.

But you’ve still never felt as alone as you do right now.

You think in the quiet for a while, stroking your fingers across your mother’s upturned palm, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do.

Unsure of what comes next.

“Kim Namjoon grew up to be such a handsome man,” your mother rasps.

The steady stroke of your fingers comes to an abrupt halt as the fine hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end.

“Excuse me?”

Your mother doesn’t repeat herself.

“Eomma,” you urge, nudging her hand with yours. “What is this talk of Kim Namjoon?”

Her lips quirk when she closes her eyes like she’s recalling a pleasant memory.

“His mother was beautiful,” she breathes quietly. “God smiled on that boy. He looks nothing like his father.”

The dull panic that’s already started to pulse in your chest sharpens to a point.

She has to be hallucinating.

She has to be taking too much medicine because nothing she’s saying makes any sense. You fumble for the bottles on her nightstand, pulling off the caps and pouring the pills out onto the tabletop. You count them over and over until you’re satisfied your mother hasn’t taken a dangerous amount of drugs.

“Eomma, why are you talking about Kim Namjoon?” you plead. “Help me understand.”

But when you look back to your mother, you realize your words are already falling on deaf ears. She’s slipped back into a sleep state once again.

If only it were that easy for you.

When you finally get to crawl into bed a short while later, you toss and turn all night.

Somewhere in the haze between asleep and awake you dream of Kim Namjoon.

*************************

Your mother’s mental clarity is always better in the morning.

After she’s had a night of rest -- and whatever medicine she’s taken has had some time to wear off -- she’s much more alert, much more like her old self. But you still weren’t able to get anything by way of answers out of her as you made breakfast this morning.

You’d made her favorite cold cucumber soup before carefully broaching the subject of last night’s strange conversation. You’d waited patiently for some kind of explanation about why she mentioned a man she hasn’t spoken of in years.

It didn’t come.

There was something odd about the way your mother went completely quiet at your mention of Namjoon. Something odd about how adamant she was about not having any memory of the conversation at all.

That odd look on her face is the one thought on your mind as you make your way to work in a complete fog. You slip into an open elevator and hit the button for your floor on autopilot.

You don’t even realize that you’re not alone until a soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

“I remember you.”

Your eyes flick up from their unseeing stare at your shoes to a young woman standing against the elevator’s back wall.

“Miss Kim,” you breathe, brushing an errant hair out of your face. Your cheeks are still stinging from the cold. “Good morning.”

Namjoon’s sister is a beautiful woman, without a doubt — but until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much she resembles her brother. They have the same striking features, the same smooth skin and high cheekbones and full lips.

They share the same dark, kind eyes.

“I remember you now,” she repeats, mouth curving into a smile. “I knew I recognized you, but it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I finally connected the dots.”

“Well, I wasn’t around a lot when we were kids,” you admit shyly. “So that’s certainly understandable.”

“That’s true,” she agrees. “And I try not to think back to those times a lot but you made an impression on me. You were always so sweet.”

Your cold cheeks seem to warm at her compliment.

“Thank you.”

The elevator stops at her floor but she seems reluctant to end the conversation. She leans against the door to prop it open.

“My brother,” she asks carefully, “Is he treating you well? Is he a fair boss?”

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Well, he’s not my boss anymore,” you admit. “He replaced me not long ago. But yes, he was very fair when I worked for him.”

Her lips part in a soft gesture of surprise when you deliver that news.

She’s quiet until the elevator blares a loud reminder that it’s time to close the doors. She smiles at you on her way out the door, opting not to comment on the quality of her brother’s staffing decisions.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmurs. “But I’m still really glad you’re here.”

****************************

An inviting scent is the first thing you notice when you get home that night.

The second thing you notice are the voices.

You make your way down the long hallway with careful steps, trying to place the sound of the voice coming from your mother’s bedroom. It doesn’t sound like Mrs. Sim -- in fact, it doesn’t sound like anyone you know.

You stop short at the sight that greets you when you round the corner.

A woman -- a complete stranger is in your mother’s room.

You stand frozen in shock as you watch the stranger read to your mother from her seated position in the chair next to the bed. She looks up from the page when she realizes you’re there, giving you a better look at her pleasant, aged face.

“Aish,” she startles, clapping a hand over her chest. “Here I was, worried about scaring you and instead you’re the one giving me a fright.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice.

“Forgive me,” you start weakly, “But who are you? And how did you get into this house?”

The woman stands to adjust the pillow under your mother’s head before meeting you in the doorway. “She’s resting now,” she says, nodding at your mother’s still form on the bed. “Why don’t we talk in the kitchen?”

Should you be screaming right now? Calling the police?

There’s no good explanation for why you do neither and decide instead to follow this complete stranger into your kitchen instead. She walks to the stove to stir whatever she has cooking in the pot.

“Get off those feet,” she admonishes kindly. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

Again you comply, inexplicably following orders.

“I made Budae Jjigae,” she explains, ladling some of the stew into a bowl. She sets it down in front of you, and you stare back at her like an idiot. The stew smells amazing, and you’re immediately hit with a well-timed hunger pang.

“Who are you?” you ask again.

“My name is Jinjoo,” she replies sweetly, handing you a spoon. “And I work for you now.”

“You work for me,” you repeat slowly.

“I do,” Jinjoo nods. “Mister Kim hired me.”

The spoon clatters loudly against the lip of the bowl when you drop it. For a moment, it’s hard to breathe. You have to wait for the strange sensation that snakes up your spine to subside before you speak again.

“Mister Kim.” You echo her again, dumbly.

Jinjoo takes a seat next to you at the table, radiating a patient kindness that makes you want to give into the urge to trust her. She smiles reassuringly at you, voice soothing when she speaks again.

“Yes. He said you needed help with your mother, and I can understand why. I nursed in hospitals for decades, dear. I can see your mother is in a bad way.”

You blink back at Jinjoo in stunned silence.

“I assure you, I’ll give your mother the best quality care,” she vows, patting one of your hands with her own. “And Mister Kim has already paid me well in advance, so don’t even think about trying to get rid of me.”

That statement almost makes you laugh.

You don’t want to get rid of Jinjoo at all. Ten minutes ago you had no idea she existed and in the span of one conversation she’s become one of the most important people you know. Tears well in your eyes as you stare into your bowl of stew, at a total loss for words.

Jinjoo seems to sense how overwhelmed you are. She gives you some space to process what’s going on, stroking one soft hand over your shoulder when she stands to leave.

“Eat something, dear. I’m gonna go sit with your mother for a while.”

You look up at her with watery eyes and nod, reaching for the spoon.

“This smells really good,” you say softly.

“Well, I’m a great cook. You’ll see,” she promises.

“Jinjoo -- “ you call out after her as she walks away. “Thank you,” you manage, voice thick with emotion. “I can’t thank you enough.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle when her mouth curves into a smile.

“You’re welcome.”

**********************

Jinjoo’s stew was delicious -- not that you had the chance to fully appreciate it.

You’d sat in that kitchen alone for some time, eating slowly while you tried to process yet another bombshell in what seemed to be a series of them. Everything that’s happened to you since Namjoon reassigned you has been a whirlwind; from the sudden pay raise to the sudden arrival of Jinjoo.

You eat the last of the stew with your stomach in knots.

Namjoon knows your mother is sick. And you don’t know how to feel about it.

A part of you feels exposed when you think about him uncovering the sad details of your mother’s health battle. But knowing that he stepped in to help you fight it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in years.

Cared for.

The sound of laughter from your mother’s bedroom echoes down the hall and you stand to follow it.

Her favorite variety show is playing on the small TV in front of her bed, and it appears Jinjoo is a fan, too. You lean in the doorway and watch the women giggle at the silly skit. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard the sound of your mother’s laugh.

It makes you smile.

“Jinjoo, could you give us a moment, please?”

You almost hate to interrupt the instant camaraderie between the two women but you recognize that your mother is in the midst of a rare moment of clarity. You have to strike while the iron is hot.

“Of course,” she agrees, standing.

You wait until the sound of her footsteps fades away before taking her place in the worn chair next to your mother’s bed. Your mother smiles at you, taking one of your hands into her own.

You squeeze her fingers gently.

“Eomma, no more secrets,” you murmur. “Tell me the truth. Did Kim Namjoon come here?”

Your mother swallows thickly before nodding.

“He asked me not to tell you,” she admits. “He said he didn’t want you to refuse his help.”

You shut your eyes and imagine Namjoon in your home, in this room. Speaking to your mother. Making plans to send Jinjoo. Your chest squeezes so tight that for a moment it’s hard to breathe.

“Okay,” you concede quietly. You maintain the appearance of careful calm because you don’t want to make your mother feel worse than she already does., “It’s alright Eomma, I’m not angry, I promise.”

A peculiar look passes over her face. Her eyes dart away from yours and that’s all it takes for you to know you don’t have the full story. You decide to toughen your stance.

“Look at me, Eomma,” you say firmly. “If there’s anything I don’t know, you need to tell me right now. I need to know all of it. Everything.”

“I -- “

“Just tell me what it is,” you repeat, patience hanging by a thread.

Your mother sighs, lifting one weak hand in the direction of her dresser. You turn to stare at the pile of papers stacked there, realization dawning in an instant. You move on unsteady legs to walk over and take hold of them.

Radiology, pulmonology, chemotherapy.

You know exactly how much is owed on each of those bills because the numbers are burned into your mind. Those numbers are the reason you leave your mother for hours on end every day to go to work. Those numbers are the reason why it’s so hard to sleep at night.

You don’t realize that your hands are shaking until you hear the papers rustling.

Every bill bears the same neat, handwritten marking.

paid -- knj

***************************

NAMJOON

Namjoon watched his sister leave early tonight with Hoseok. Seokjin is out to dinner with his wife. And Yoongi is off doing -- well, whatever the hell Yoongi does when he’s not around.

There’s no one here tonight to tell Namjoon to go home. No one to point out that he’s had too much to drink or that it’s happening far too often.

So he pours another scotch.

The glass sweats in his hand as he stands in front of his window, deep in thought.

Thinking about you.

Thinking about the way you struggled in silence, caring for your mother alone -- too proud to ask for help. The way you catered to Namjoon’s every need and whim without ever making mention of yours. The way he’d let it go on for far too long, selfishly wrapped up in the way you made him feel.

“That girl is going to get you killed.”

Namjoon tells himself the sound of your voice is a figment of his imagination, an entirely predictable side-effect of too much scotch. But it’s followed quickly by your soft footsteps against the plush carpet in his office and both sounds are too real to ignore.

He turns to assess you, quietly sipping his drink.

Fuck, you are beautiful.

You have no right turning up here tonight -- looking like that -- testing him when he is at his weakest. Your dark eyes flash with something like a challenge and Namjoon feels his blood warm.

“That girl is never at her desk and she has no idea who’s coming or going,” you accuse quietly. “She’s putting you at risk.”

Namjoon concedes your point with a slow half-smirk that teases the edge of his mouth.

“Perhaps,” he admits. “But there are different kinds of risk. Maybe you put me at risk, too.”

He shouldn’t take pleasure from the way your eyes go wide at that statement. Or from the way you overcompensate by standing taller, chin lifted high.

But he does.

“Mister Kim -- “ you start.

“ -- Namjoon,” he interrupts. “Don’t you think it’s time you called me Namjoon? Haven’t we known one another since we were kids?”

“Namjoon,” you correct yourself, taking a deep breath. “I know about everything. Jinjoo, the bills, all of it.”

Namjoon says nothing for a moment, draining his glass before setting it down on his desk with a heavy thud.

“Why?” you ask quietly. “Why did you do this for me?”

Because I would do anything for you.

He doesn’t voice that thought out loud. He knows he shouldn’t.

But he also knows he shouldn’t be closing the distance between you right now, and he’s doing that anyway. He steps closer, quietly, and you swallow hard, thrown by his silence and his advance.

“That’s not -- that’s not something you do for an employee,” you protest, slowly backing away. You stop only when the ledge of his desk hits you on the backside.

“The late nights and the extra hours. Everything else you did,” Namjoon murmurs, stepping close, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. “Did you do that for your boss? Or did you do that for me?”

He leans closer, caging your body against his desk. Your lips part in surprise and Namjoon forces himself not to react when your tongue slips out to wet them.

“Namjoon, I -- ” your voice is barely above a whisper when you find it. “-- I don’t understand you right now.”

“How could I have every resource at my fingertips and not help you?” he asks, reaching one hand out to cup your face. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips and you shudder under his touch. “Why didn’t you come to me when you knew I could help?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, pupils blown and cheeks flushed.

“You should have come to me,” he admonishes quietly. You lean into the touch of his hand. “I would have given you anything you asked for. Anything.”

“I understand that,” you say quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying your attempt at calm. “Because I would give you anything you asked for, too.”

Something about the way you say that snaps Namjoon back to reality.

He looks down at you like he’s only just now realized that he’s loaded on scotch, leaning you over his desk -- and well on his way to taking advantage of this situation. He tenses, pulling away.

“This is -- this is not --” he sputters pathetically for a moment. “Go home,” he pleads. “Please.”

He’s never hated himself as much as he does right now -- when you’re looking up at him with hurt and confusion in those wide, dark eyes.

“Go home before I do something I can’t take back.”

************************

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laurie-stark · 3 years

Text

Get up and get out

Summary: Sort of part two to Unwanted. A year after fighting in Germany, y/n has to deal with the insufferable Peter Parker being around the house all the time.

Pairings: Peter Parker x stark!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader.

Warnings: swearing, angst? i guess? mentions of blood. mentions of panic nightmares

A/N: Again, I want to make it very clear so there isn’t any confusion: Y/n is Tony’s biological child, however, being raised also by Natasha, Steve and Pepper, she calls them Muma, Pops and Mom. Hopefully that makes sense LOL oh and also i’ve never written like...kiss scenes before so just go with it okay?

He was here again. Third time this week that he has come barging into my home and taken over my training center. Okay, to be fair, it was not my training center but still. Peter Parker will never stop being a pain in my ass. Ever since that stupid trip to Germany, he has been coming over and training for hours, or working with Dad. Three times just this week I’ve had to endure listening to Peter talk with his stupid little voice and walk around my house like he owns the place. Who does he think he is? And every time I have to sit through another dinner of Dad blabbing on and on about what a miraculous boy he is.

“Really y/n, I think you two would be great friends,” I rolled my eyes as I picked at my dinner. The rest of the family ate in silence around the table. The last thing I wanted to do is spend more time with stupid Spider-boy. On the afternoons when he was here, I tried my best to stay out of his way. I would stay on my floor and he stays on his. Simple. I don’t need a new friend.

“…And he’s coming by again tomorrow, so I was thinking of showing him A.P.R.I.L. if you wanted to join us-” Dad continued.

What the hell? I thought. “No!” I snapped. “No way. A.P.R.I.L. is mine, I don’t want him messing with her.” Dad frowned at me. The rest of the table looked up in my direction. My shoulders tensed up as I faced my father. A.P.R.I.L. is my baby and I was ready to go toe to toe with him if I needed too.

“What do you mean no? I thought you’d be excited to share that with him,” he started.

“Well I’m not, so back off,” I sneered. The shift in his expression made me want to bite my own tongue. “Please.”

“I seriously do not understand what your problem is. You’ve been complaining for years how there’s only adults but the second a kid your age comes by you’re all “oooh no don’t talk to me Peter!””

I scoffed. “Sorry, I guess I just don’t want to bother you and your new best friend.”

“There it is. Why are you so jealous of him? He’s not that cool. He hasn’t made a fully functioning A.I at the age of 15. He just spits sticky stuff out of his fingers. Honestly y/n, you’re making zero sense right now.”

“Whatever, I’m over this,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I grabbed my untouched dinner plate and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m not hungry. And don’t show him A.P.R.I.L., I mean it!” I dumped my plate in the sink and marched right down the hall towards the elevators. My dad was right. I wasn’t making any sense. Ever since I made A.P.R.I.L I’ve used every excuse I could find to shove her down people’s throats. Anyone who would listen to me, I would tell them. Tell them all about how I programmed her to have realistic personality. How she’s running through the walls of this place, through my room, even inside the bracelet I never take off. All I knew is that I didn’t want Peter Parker anywhere near her.

I shut the door to my hard, and flopped onto my bed. A.P.R.I.L. reminded me that slamming the doors usually results in a punishment. I acknowledged her with a half-hearted grunt. I started programming A.P.R.I.L. when I was thirteen. Or rather, reprogrammed. A.P.R.I.L. was made from an older prototype version of F.R.I.D.A.Y. The base stuff was already there, I just moved some things here, recoded there until she was perfect. I don’t know why I got so defensive about Peter meeting her. Or why I had to pick another fight with my dad.

It was easier these days. To fight him, I mean. I suppose I never got over the whole “Peter is better, I choose him over you, blah, blah” thing as much as I thought I did. So, I would pick fights. Fighting over Peter was the simplest way to go, considering he was the reason I was so angry in the first place. Sometimes we would fight over him, other times we would fight over silly things. Like how I keep forgetting not to put my coffee grounds in the garbage disposal. Most of the time it was all just bickering that would blow over in thirty minutes, give or take. Sometimes it was explosive, like today. I took in a shaky breath and sprawled out across my sheets. Sometimes this family is a fucking nightmare.

Dad didn’t come by this time. It threw me off for a second because he always comes by. Even if it’s six hours later and neither of us should be awake, he still comes by with a box of milk duds that we share in silence before one of us apologizes first. That’s how we work. When it finally sunk in that he was not planning on coming, I put A.P.R.I.L. on the job. I figured perhaps he left the compound, maybe took Mom for a nighttime stroll.

“Your father is on floor B, Miss Stark,” A.P.R.I.L. informed me.

“Jesus A.P.R.I.L., how many times have I said to cut the formalities,” I muttered.

“My apologies, y/n.”

Floor B. What the hell is he doing on floor B at…12:00 in the morning? Floor B is strictly for members of household and other Avengers. There are a billion different training rooms down there. Weight rooms, boxing, a huge pool, stuff like that. Not to taint his image, but I can safely say the last time my father willingly worked out for fun was probably before I was even born. Why was he down there? Unless…

“A.P.R.I.L. who else is on floor B right now?” I asked. “Throw it on the hologram, would you dear?

The sounds of the hologram starting filled the room. A.P.R.I.L. pulled up the security map of floor B, like I’d asked. There was my dad, floor B in the boxing room of all places. Pops and Sam looked to be going at it in another one of the combat training rooms. My confusion only rose when another nametag popped up on the screen. My brows furrowed.

Peter Parker

What was he doing here? Why was he boxing? Why was he not in his own home at midnight on a Thursday? My mind was spinning with questions. A knock at my door startled me.

“Come in…”

Natasha popped her head through the doorway. “Hey there…whatcha doing kid?”

I swiftly swiped away the hologram screen and sat up straight. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“Well, we’re getting a little worried about you,” she said. We being everyone else at the table who had to witness my brawl with Dad. She sat down beside me. “You haven’t fought back like that in a long time and I’ve noticed you’re fighting with him a lot recently. You want to tell me what that’s all about?”

I wanted too. God, I wanted too. I hadn’t told anyone what my father said to me that day after the airport, not even my mom. But it didn’t matter. I’d get over it sooner or later, so there was no point troubling anyone else with my problems…right? My eyes started to well up but I blinked away the tears. “No. Everything’s fine,” I put on a smile.

Natasha tucked me in under her arm. “Okay then. Maybe tomorrow.” That was Muma for you. She never pushed me to talk but knew I would come around at some point. In the meantime, she just held me. I cried into her embrace. She let me cry into her shoulder for a long while, until I was empty. After a time, I let go and she got up, giving me a kiss on the head before wishing me a good night.

I rubbed my hands over my face, brushing off any remaining tears. “A.P.R.I.L. bring the hologram back up please.”

“Are you sure y/n?”

…

“Yeah.”

Peter was still in the boxing room but my father was not. Upon further digging, I found the nametag reading Tony Stark on my floor. He’d gone to bed. I pondered to myself as to whether or not I should venture downstairs. What is the worst thing that could happen? Peter is secretly a Hydra spy and kills me? No, I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous. Another minute passed and I’d made up my mind.

“A.P.R.I.L. engage “I am definitely here”,” I commanded.

“”I am definitely here” protocol engaged. Volume minimized to 5% and your tracking tag will be pinned to this room,” A.P.R.I.L. responded. “Good luck on your mission small agent.”

“Oh shut up,” I chided. I closed the door to my room as softly as I could. It was nearly one in the morning, most of the hall would be asleep. Or at least they should be. The hallway was silent, except for the soft noise of my socks padding along the floor. I cursed myself for looking so ridiculous. If anyone caught me, I could easily say that I was just getting a midnight snack. Not sneaking down to spy on Spider-bitch. Boy. Whatever. Sneaking added to the excitement.

I made it downstairs all in one piece. Steve and Sam nearly passed me in one of the halls, but I had ducked into a briefing room. I could totally be a spy. Maybe I’m a Hydra spy. I thought. And they sent me here as a baby to take down the Avengers from the inside. What was I going on about? This was why I should really be in bed, I was clearly delirious. Once again, distracting myself in my thoughts led to me getting startled. I hadn’t even realized I was outside the boxing room. I would have walked right in if not for the handy wall that I smacked into.

Peter was in the ring, practicing his punches. He’d lowered down one of the punching bags from the ceiling and it was close to ripping at the seams. He was really going ham on it. The questions piled on. So, he came over to my house at midnight to…train? Something he had all afternoon today to do? God, he was weird. I suppose I didn’t quite know what I was going to get myself into when I finally walked in to confront him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, arms folded tightly across my chest.

Peter started and looked down at me. Sweat was dripping down his face. He looked exhausted. “Training,” he said bluntly. He returned to treating the punching bag like it had run over his dog.

“At one in the morning? And after you spent like six hours today doing just that?” I was not letting him off that easy. Peter ignored me and continued punching. “Your form is shit.” I mocked.

That made him stop. “Funny coming from the girl who never leaves her room. When have you ever trained? Like ever?”

“I still beat your ass.”

“Yeah like, a year ago when I was barely an avenger.”

I rolled my eyes. “You still aren’t.”

“What do you want?” Peter spat.

I shrugged. “Dunno.” I stared him down with a smug look on my face.

“You are always such a bitch, you know that?”

I faked a pout. “Aw…bite me.”

Peter was chewing the inside of his cheek in anger. “If you’re going to stay here and pester me, you might as well get a few punches in.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Consider it a rematch.”

I studied his physique for a moment. He’d grown a lot since Germany. He’d also trained a lot since then as well. I had done little of either. I knew that entering that ring would probably end up with me losing my dignity and maybe even a tooth. But I was not going to let him stand there with his stupid, sweaty face and get away with it. This is not a good idea, I thought as I took off my socks. I moved the ropes and stepped into the ring, standing a foot in front of the boy.

“I’ll still win.”

“No powers either.”

“Deal.” Not like I’ve touched my powers since…since the incident.

Peter took his stance and I did my best to mirror him. I realized in that moment that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know the first thing about boxing. Or sparring. I didn’t know how to fight without my powers. Oh, sweet Jesus.

We kept our distance at first, fists up. He threw a few punches and missed. I followed in suit. I finally got the first hit, a nice throw to his chest. He took it like a champ and didn’t flinch. Or rather, I couldn’t hit for shit and it didn’t hurt. He threw a punch to my left, only to miss on purpose and punched me square across my jaw. Ow. I chuckled lowly. The taste of blood filled my mouth from the fresh cut on my lip. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. All I could see was white rage.

Forget form, forget rules, forget everything. I lunged at him with everything I had. Lunged at him for all the bullshit he had brought into my life. For all the bitter things I had to hear my father say that weren’t even Peter’s fault. He was clearly not expecting my attack because we both fell to the ground. We fought tirelessly on the mat. He was physically stronger than me, so by default he was winning. He wrestled me until I was pinned under him. One hand was pinning my hand above my head, the other arm pinning down my body. In any other circumstances I would be amused to find myself in such a scandal. I looked in his eyes briefly and I could already tell he thought that he was winning. If there’s one thing I learned from Nat, it’s to always step on their moment. I hooked my leg around his knee and used all my force to flip us over. I had him pinned down now, my hair falling around my face. We were both breathing heavily.

“Told you,” I taunted. I was mentally preparing him to punch back but he didn’t. He snapped his arms out from under me and shoved me off him, hard. I fell back against the mat. He rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. “What the hell?” I exclaimed. I jumped to my feet while his back was turned to me and gave him a taste of his own medicine. He stumbled a few steps after I pushed him. Slowly, he stretched back up to reach his full height.

“You’re right,” he turned to face me and extended a hand. “Shake on the truce?” I took his hand, accepting his surrender. Only, he was not really surrendering. The moment my hand touched his, he yanked me towards him. I tripped over my feet and fell into him. My chest crashed onto his. The world was a blur as he grabbed me with force and spun us around, so he could push me up against the ropes of the ring.

“Stop, Peter get off me you bitch!” I fought back. I flailed my whole body around, trying to break loose. One hand reached up to grab the back of my head, pulling my hair and forcing my head back. I froze. His face was dangerously close to my exposed neck. His shift let my opposite arm break free. I took a breathe and reeled it back, ready to smack him in the across the face. He caught my wrist in time without taking his eyes off mine.

He lowered his head to whisper in my ear, “I win.” His breathe trickled down my neck. He had won, but he wasn’t moving. One hand was still in my hair, the other was pinning me against the ropes. His chest breathed heavily against my own. His grip on my head loosened slightly and I was able to look him straight on. He had that same smug look pasted across his face. His eyes moved from mine, trailing down my face, my neck, my body, before they settled on my lips. I momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

He kissed me hard. I tensed up slightly before giving into him completely. It tasted like blood and sweat and I felt like I was losing my mind. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible and claimed my mouth with his until my knees gave out. A newfound wave of warm washed through me. The hand in my hair gave a slight tug and my lips parted while that same hand moved to cup my jaw. For all I knew, the entire compound was wide awake and watching but I did not care. I brought my fingers to his hair, tugging at the ends. I smiled cunningly when he groaned into my mouth. He kissed me greedily and fully. Like he hated me. And I hated him.

We broke apart, limbs numb and chests heaving. The moment had passed, and our actions sunk in. What. The. Fuck. He lifted the ropes for me, and I climbed out of the ring. My head was still spinning from that kiss and my lip stung. Consequences I suppose, for kissing someone with a busted lip. I silently pulled my socks back on and Peter handed me a towel. Neither of us said another word. I left the room and didn’t look back. I could hear him behind me, but I was in no rush to have to look him in the eye ever again. What just happened?

I woke the next morning to A.P.R.I.L. alerting me that “Father Dearest” was outside my door. He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. We both stayed quiet for a while.

I spoke first. “Where were you last night? You didn’t come by after…” I let my words trail off.

“I was going to, I swear. But then something came up with Peter and I had to go take care of that,” Dad answered.

I frowned. “Typical. Peter over your own flesh and blood, right?”

Dad inhaled sharply like he was going to bite back, but changed his mind. “That’s not true and you know it. Peter is…he’s going through something and I knew how to help him. Not everything is about you, you narcissist,” He said, joking at the end.

I had to push down my own smile. “Yeah well where do you think I got it from?” I sat up and leaned into my father. He brushed a hand down my back. “So, what’s wrong with Peter then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you, it’s personal.” I looked up at him with my doe eyes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, nodding a silent defeat. I felt like I was nine again and he was gossiping with me about the latest secretary. Like every fight had been forgotten in this moment. “He’s been having some nightmares ever since DC. You remember the ones we used to get after Loki?” I nodded. “Now you, you always amazed me at how you handled those. But for me and Peter, we needed a different outlet. So, I let him come over in the middle of the night. I didn’t think anyone would notice.” I hummed in response, not sure what to make of that information. I mean, I kind of felt bad for the guy. He was still a bitch, but those dreams suck. No one should have to deal with them. “He really isn’t as bad as you think, you know.”

“Yeah,” I hummed. “I think you’re right.”

tag list:

@runawayolives @ creation-magician @ eridanuswave @ markhyucksmells @ beep-beep-losersclub

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lunarmochi · 2 years

Text

⤷ Hawks Comfort Letter

word count; 707 a/n; got a random burst of motivation and came up with this. hope it isn’t too ooc

Hey Dove,

Sorry I had to leave on a business trip for a few weeks. Duty calls, y’know? I wish I could’ve talked the Commission out of making me go, but they just wouldn’t budge. They can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

But anyway, enough about that stuff. It’s real pretty here. I wish I could’ve taken you with me. There’s a lot of snow covering everything, but there’s still some beauty in it (as unusually optimistic as it sounds). When it’s the dead of the night, all you can see is street lights and the snow piled up on trees, and you can practically hear the sound of a pin drop? God, it’s like nothing else. Maybe we should head up here again on vacation, yeah? That’s… if I ever get one that is. Haha.

How is my feather doing? Sorry I haven’t been able to text or call lately. Too many damn meetings with men in black suits talking about the same stuff. This needs to be done, that needs to change, blah blah blah. I’d rather be at home cuddling with you, if I’m honest.

I know things have been… rough lately. Doesn’t take a genius to know that. We might be okay, but I know you’re tearing at the seams. I’m sorry I had to leave at a bad time, when you need as much support as you can get. I can already hear you. Don’t be spouting that “I’m fine, I don’t need it, your work is more important” shit, either. You’ve been working so hard, you might just rival me, haha. Sorry… bad timing? Anyway, you’re more of a priority than these dumb meetings. There are other heroes that can handle it.

You’re doing your best, dove. I can see that probably better than anyone. I’ve seen how hard you work, how long you stay up agonizing over every little thing. I’ve seen you hunched over your work for hours on end, forgetting to take care of yourself. I know it’s important to you, but remember to take a break sometimes, yeah? We both know I have a lot of experience in that field.

I’m proud of you, y’know? I can’t even find the fuckin’ words to express how proud I am of what you’ve done. How far you’ve gotten. Life seems to slow down sometimes, to when you can feel every painful second pass by, but you managed to get through it. You didn’t think you would, but look at you now! Beyond work, I’m proud of you for everything else. I’m proud of you for getting up in the morning. I’m proud of you for letting go of that person you thought would never stop tormenting you. I’m proud of you for waking up everyday and deciding that you would go on one more day. I’m proud of you for working hard for the things you believe in. For putting your 110% into everything you do.

You fight all these small battles you think that no one notices, but I can say that I do. I see you. I acknowledge you. I can see how hard you’re working and I admire your determination. You have your bad days, we all do, but it doesn’t take away from you going forward. Two steps forward, one step back, that’s what they say, right? One step back means nothing when you’re still going forward. You’re moving forward and I’m proud of you, above all else. Pulling yourself out of a mentally dark place like that takes some damn strength, and not the physical kind. I’m glad that you’ve chosen me, out of the 7 billion other people, to be by your side. I’m honored.

In any case, thank you for existing. Thank you for being here to support me and be mine. Every day is a battle, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. With as much as you do for me, I can only hope to do the same for you. I’ll see you when I get back. I’ll make sure to bring some gifts for you, too. Can’t be forgetting to spoil you, now can I? And before this letter gets too long, I love you.

Signed,

Hawks

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha hawks #bnha takami keigo #hawks #takami keigo #my writing #comfort #hawks comfort letter

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

Note

"how do you think this ends?"

Despite Lena’s hopes and dreams that when the morning came everything would feel as right in the world as it had when the little family had fallen asleep, it wasn’t true. When she awoke (for whatever reason, she was the first), she walked out of the room and was immediately surrounded by maids and servants pestering her with their endless questions. Of course, she knew why they were asking, she was supposed to be dead.

She did her best to explain the situation and told them that her mother had died in an avalanche at Acme Falls. This, however, made the situation worse, as then officials and advisors soon got word and started to try and plan things out with her, and Lena wanted none of it. It was early- hell, she was still in her nightgown and robe. She just wanted to take an early stroll around her home, but nope.

Then again, what did she expect? Come back from the dead and people are going to have questions.

Still. Being swarmed with questions and having plans and ideas thrown in her face that early was too much. She yearned to return to bed, but by the time she successfully convinced them to stop, it was likely too late.

So instead, she went to the kitchen and began to chop up some fruit, a skill she had gotten quite good at over the past year. She couldn’t do a lot, so she liked to help Helloise and Doctor Scratchnsniff prepare food, usually while they talked about things. Now all Lena could think of as she chopped was that of her offer.

She had written a letter last night asking for their assistance. In all honesty, she was ashamed. She thought returning home would do a lot to heal everything they went through over the past year, but Dot’s nightmare quickly told her otherwise. Because of her nativity, she had to write a letter offering and asking them to come to the palace to be the royal psychologist and counselor not just for Dot, but likely Wakko and perhaps even Yakko too. Goodness knows all of her kids must’ve been through hell under the care of her mother.

Lena paused and placed a hand on her cheek. She sighed.

Lena continued cutting fruit.

She hoped they were hungry- she was making a lot- goodness.

Well- she knew Wakko would be anyway. Her poor boy... he was so light to carry. Angelina must’ve locked him in the tower before the Wishing Star, and probably didn’t feed him.

Her mother deserved far, far worse than death.

But it was what needed to be done. She didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

Hopefully, they’d use all this food for the picnic they’d be having-

It was still winter. Snow was outside. They couldn’t have a picnic.

No. They’d just have one inside. It’s what Wakko wanted- who was she to take that away from him?

She continued to cut, despite realizing she lost count of how many kiwis, strawberries, and star fruit she had sliced by now.

“Mom?” Wakko came out of nowhere, startling Lena and she cut her finger.

“Gah- Jesus Wakko, you can’t sneak up on me like that,” She quickly began to suck on it and look for a towel.

Wakko froze, dead in his tracks.

“I-i’m sorry, I-i didn’t mean to- I-i-” He stumbled over his apology.

“It’s alright, Wakko, I’m not-” But by the time Lena said that, he had run out of the kitchen.

“Dammit, Lena, now look at what you’ve done,” She muttered to herself, wrapping a rag around her finger and running off to go find Wakko.

Day one and she was already screwing up.

“Wakko? Where are you?” She called, looking under hall decor, behind curtains, and in almost every room she walked by.

“Wakko, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that,” She said, hearing sniffles come out of one bedroom. Lena knocked on the door softly.

“Wakko?” She said.

“I-i said I’m sorry, go away!” He shouted back.

“Wakko, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, it was I who snapped at you,” She placed her hand that didn’t have a towel around it against the door.

“Go away! I only get people hurt,” He cried more.

“Wakko honey, no,” Lena wanted to go in, but the door was locked.

“Wakko, whatever your grandmother told you, she was wrong. You’re such a wonderful kid- energetic, compassionate, brave, and you give the best hugs,” She countered his statement. The prince paused.

“B-but it’s my fault D-dot died... they were aiming for me,” He countered, his words becoming mumbled.

“Wakko, it’s nobody’s fault but your grandmother and she’s already paid the price,” She said.

“She can’t hurt you anymore... so please... come out? I promise I’m okay.”

Wakko was quiet. Lena bit her lip.

“If you come out you can have a snack in the kitchen,” She said. Wakko must’ve responded positively to that because before she knew it there were shuffling noises, and he opened the door, though unable to make eye contact with his mother.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

“I know honey, let’s get you some food and water- I bet you’re dehydrated too, especially after all that crying,” Lena said, offering her hand. Wakko took it.

“Yeah,” was all he said. Lena gave his hand a comforting squeeze as they made their way back. Once there, she lifted him on the counter and started slicing more fruit, everything from apples to bananas, and handing them to him once finished. He ate slowly, but it seemed to be doing him a lot of good, as his mood increased dramatically once he got some food in his system.

“You feeling better?” She asked him. Wakko nodded. “Good,” Lena smiled and ruffled his fur a little. Lena always found it funny how he often liked to sleep with his red hat on, but who was she to judge.

“Now honey, I want to make things very clear with you: everything your grandmother ever told you or made you feel is false okay? I don’t want you saying it, I don’t want you thinking it. You are so much more than she ever thought, understood?” She placed her hand on his cheek, stroking his face with her thumb. Wakko leaned into it, nodding.

“Okay,” he agreed. Lena smiled softly.

“It’s not gonna be easy to undo what she’s done... but we’re going to figure it out together, understood?” She said. Wakko nodded again, eating an apple slice.

“I haven’t told your siblings yet, but in roughly a week's time, the good doctor from Acme Falls is going to start working at the palace to help you three heal from the abuse my mother put you through. He’s an emotions doctor and he’ll help you feel better, does that sound like something you want?” She said, going back to cutting fruit.

“Okay,” Wakko nodded, his tail twitching curiously. “What about you?” he asked.

Lena paused. “What about me?”

“Will he be helping you?” Wakko asked innocently. Lena looked down at her hands, then at the 20 or so fruits she sliced this morning.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’m going to have a lot more responsibilities than what I’m used to in the upcoming days- I’ll likely be too busy.”

“But you should be okay too,” Wakko frowned, reminding Lena of how observant he could be.

“I’ll be okay Wakko- I promise,” She looked at him. He scanned her face a minute before either believing it or just dropping it and going back to his apple slices.

After a moment of more slicing and handing to Wakko, Lena spoke again.

“We’re going to be having a picnic today, just like you wanted,” She said. Wakko’s face lit up.

“Really?! Isn’t it snowy?” Wakko tilted his head.

“We’ll be having it inside, but I think that hardly makes a difference. What do you think?” Lena asked him.

“Okay,” he gave a toothy grin.

“Good,” Lena nodded. “How about you go and get dressed and get your siblings ready so we can do that soon, hm?”

“Okay,” He said, jumping off the countertop, and scurrying out of the kitchen.

Good. At least he was somewhat back to his old self. That meant there was hope after all. He was still a kid- he deserved to be happy and young while he could.

With a sigh, Lena began to get bags out and put the sliced fruit into separate bags as kitchen workers started to come in and began preparing their breakfast. Once Lena finished, she quickly apologized and got out of their way, explaining what was going to happen later with the picnic and all. They understood, and she left.

Now she was on her own again. And still in her nightgown- Lena really needed to get changed. Quickly she went back to her room and went to her closet to get dressed but her fingers hovered over her dresses. It had been so long since she wore something so fancy... Would it even feel right anymore?

Of course it would, she was born a princess, she was just being ridiculous... right?

Lena sighed and changed into her usual purple dress.

Today was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

And interesting it was. Home for less than 24 hours and already advisors and courtiers were already throwing piles upon piles of papers onto the poor queen-to-be. After signing about fifty billion documents, she finally got them to leave her alone, stating she made plans with her family she fully intended to keep. Thankfully, since she was in charge, nobody argued otherwise, though she knew they were likely doubtful. She did her best not to dwell.

By the time she did finally join her family in the room they were having their picnic, Wakko and Dot were already finished with their food and running around chasing each other, nearly running into Lena as she stepped in, though they both paused to give her a hug before running off again.

“My, they’re energetic today,” Lena chuckled as she joined her husband and Yakko on the pillows.

“Last night was probably the best sleep they’ve gotten in a while, nightmare or not,” Yakko shrugged, eating a piece of bread.

“I don’t doubt that... I slept pretty well last night too,” William said mostly to himself, looking at Wakko and Dot fondly.

“It really has been a year, hasn’t it?” Lena looked at Yakko, sadness in her eyes. “We’ve missed so much...”

“Not a whole lot... I mean- there were birthdays and stuff, but not... well...” Yakko was reluctant to finish the sentence, but Lena understood perfectly.

“Not much good, no?” Lena sighed. “I’ll never forgive her for this... for any of this.”

William and Yakko nodded supportively.

“But... Dot’s birthday was nice. I even managed to sneak a cake, and we all had a big sleepover, which was fun,” Yakko said. Lena smiled a little.

“That sounds lovely,” She said, sipping some tea.

“It was,” Yakko smiled at the memory.

“Oh! And we continued teaching Wakko to read,” Yakko remembered to tell.

“Really? Oh, that makes me so happy Yakko,” Lena side hugged him.

“We were so worried that Angelina wouldn’t let him and he’d forget,” William admitted.

“We had to do it behind her back, but I definitely think we made progress,” Yakko smiled, proud of himself, and rightfully so.

“I’m absolutely thrilled to hear it. You did a very good job taking care of your siblings in our absence Yakko, I’m very proud of you,” She kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks, mom,” Yakko teared up a little, and he quickly wiped it away. Lena didn’t comment, smiling softly.

“I’ll never forgive her for this.” The thought repeated in her mind. Anger returned.

“So, what took you so long?” Yakko asked.

“Paperwork. I’ve a coronation to set up by the end of the week after all,” She tried to laugh at the dread facing her.

“What about Grandma’s funeral?” Yakko asked.

“She isn’t going to be getting a funeral,” Lena said.

William blinked. “Are you sure that’s best?”

“Doesn’t every royal get a funeral? I mean- she even held one for you two...” Yakko said quietly.

“It’s unprecedented yes, and will perhaps even look bad to the people. However, once we explain everything that happened, I’m sure the people will be more than happy and most importantly on our side,” Lena sipped her tea.

“I guess that makes sense,” Yakko shrugged a little. William sighed.

“Lena darling, I know it must be difficult, but she was the queen after all-”

“She committed treason on the highest offense, William.” Lena snapped.

“I know, but well- hasn’t she already paid the price?” He said in a hushed tone, even though Yakko was still right there.

“It’s not that I think she deserves one, Lena. I’m just concerned that the people won’t understand and that it’ll cause them to turn against you,” He clarified softly, touching her arm. Lena swiped it away.

“I know full well what I’ve done,” She stated sharply. “And I don’t regret it. Let the people be upset if they will, they’ll get over it.”

Wakko and Dot stopped running by then, now looking at their parents, confused.

“Lena, darling, perhaps we should take this outside,” William sighed. Lena looked at her children before sighing and nodding.

“We’ll be back shortly... carry on until we get back,” Lena said, placing a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before standing up and going. William followed in suit.

William stood by the door a moment, making sure they weren’t listening in. Lena paced across the hall, holding her arms.

“Well?” Lena asked him.

“Well, what?” William questioned her harshness.

“Well, what’ve you to say? You asked us to leave the room and we’ve left, so what’ve you to say?” She asked, digging her fingers into her arms.

“Lena darling... I just thought perhaps it wasn’t best to discuss such matters in front of the children,” William said softly. That didn’t make Lena feel any better.

“William, I’m tired of pretending I care about her,” Lena looked out a window. “I don’t want to waste a year of my life wearing all black and veiling myself pretending to weep over what I’ve lost. I can’t even fathom pretending to care a day,” She admitted.

“Of course,” He nodded slowly. The queen-to-be glanced at him.

“You aren’t going to argue otherwise?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Lena darling, I love you with all that I am. I trust your judgment. I’m simply trying to look out for you, that’s all,” William went to her.

“I love you too William,” She said. “I just... I know what I’ve done. I don’t regret it.”

“My dear... you keep saying that,” He took her hand and kissed it.

“It remains true,” Lena took a step away.

“Lena, who are you trying to convince?” He asked honestly.

“I... nobody,” She said quickly.

“Lena-”

“Nobody, William,” She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

She didn’t regret it. Her mother had to die, and by her hand.

There was no other way.

“There was no other way,” She said aloud.

“My love, you’re trembling,” William worried.

“She didn’t love me. She never did- even as a child. She shouted, she pulled the flowers out of my hair, she grabbed me, she blamed me for Father’s death, she... she hurt Wakko, she locked him up like some animal and then she... she killed Dot. She had to die, William,” She still didn’t look at him.

“I know darling...” He approached her slowly.

“A-and even if she had loved me at one point... if she brushed my hair, or sat with me in portraits, or picked out a dress she saw me admiring, it doesn’t matter. She killed our baby girl... she had to die,” Lena looked him in the eyes, though the sympathy was almost too much for her.

“My love, I know... What you did was incredibly difficult,” William said, wiping a stray tear from her face.

“Why though? Why was it difficult? After all that she did to our children, it should’ve been easy,” Lena argued.

“Lena, I do not know,” He sighed, stroking her face with his hand softly. “I’m not a psychologist or anything of the like... but I assume it’s because- well... she was your mother.”

“Hardly...” Lena muttered to herself.

“Despite everything, she still was. You can’t deny that,” He said. “And despite everything, you’ve always been slow to retaliation, so of course it’s taking a while to process what you’ve done.”

“I thought you said you weren’t a psychologist,” Lena joked a little. William chuckled a little.

“I’m not dear... though perhaps you really should take up Scratchnsniff’s offer,” William said.

“I wrote for him last night. He’ll do the children lots of good,” She said.

“That’s not what I meant,” William gave her a look.

Lena paused, sincerely thinking about it.

“I’ll be woefully busy... I’ll hardly have the time,” Lena said.

“We’ll make the time,” He countered.

“William- I just... I don’t know...” She turned away.

“Lena... please? I worry about you,” William held one of her hands in his and gave it a squeeze. Lena said nothing.

“My dear, you deserve to be at peace. Ever since I met you you were burdened by your mother’s actions, and now that she’s gone, you can finally find peace,” He said with a small smile. She could hardly look at him now.

She was an adult. Almost queen. She should be able to handle this on her own.

“If not for yourself, then can you at least do it for them? For...me?” He pleaded quietly.

Lena looked at the door a long moment, practically seeing her children leaning up against it (which she knew they likely were).

“William I don’t know if I can find peace...” She whispered.

“Can’t we at least give it a try, my love?” He whispered back. She looked at him. His eyes... those warm, dark, familiar eyes had brought her so much love and comfort over the years. So much love and worry...

Lena knew she’d do anything for him.

“I can try,” She nodded slowly.

“Really?” He smiled a little.

“I’d walk through hell and back for you, my love,” Lena placed a soft hand on his cheek. “I think I’ll be able to believe in myself a little for you too.”

“Thank you,” He kissed her wrist before pulling her in for an actual kiss, which she gladly returned.

However, the kiss didn’t last too long before a chorus of voices behind the door grew louder and before they knew it, the door opened, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot spilling out with it.

“Darn it Dot- you got us caught,” Yakko shook his head.

“Haha... hi,” Dot sheeped. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Mind telling me why you were listening in to what was supposed to be a private, adult conversation?” She teased, helping them up and off each other.

“Uh... curiosity?” Wakko shrugged. Lena laughed.

“Can’t deny that I suppose,” She ruffled his fur. Wakko smiled up at her with his tongue sticking out. She missed that smile.

“Well... the day isn’t over yet... what do you three want to do?” She asked.

“Can we hear a story?” Dot perked up and asked.

“Yeah! A story!” Wakko agreed. Yakko snorted, giving his silent agreement.

“It’s nowhere near bedtime,” William said. “What are we going to do then?”

“We can handle two stories,” Dot rolled her eyes. William chuckled.

“That you can... that you can,” He said, stroking his mustache.

“How about this: I’ll tell you a bedtime story if you’ll help me out with this one, hm?” He offered, winking at Lena to boast his cleverness. Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay!” The younger warner siblings said in agreement.

“But first we have to clean all this up- can’t be leaving everything out like this,” Lena remarked, going back into their picnic room. Quickly, the children ran in and began picking up any toys they had brought in, folding blankets, and putting back pillows where they belonged, while Lena and William dealt with the food.

“Quite the plethora of fruit you prepared for us this morning,” Willaim commented as he cleaned.

“I do it when I’m stressed,” She shrugged. “You know this- you were there.”

“I know,” he teased. “They were very good.”

“I didn’t grow them,” Lena rolled her eyes, teasing him right back.

“It’s our garden. I think we ought to have some claim,” He shrugged. Lena rolled her eyes again.

“You say that like we don’t get most of our fruits from the farms-”

“Actually, we get our apples and citrus from the farms. The starfruit and berries were from the garden,” Yakko snuck up from behind, folding a blanket.

“Who’s side are you on?” Lena gave him a look. Yakko laughed.

“Checkmate,” William grinned.

“I hate you,” She snorted, putting the bread into a bag as Yakko disappeared to put the blanket away.

“You love me,” William elbowed her lightly. Lena chuckled and continued to clean without comment. However, a thought slowly dawned on her and she paused.

“Lena..?” William noticed.

“Sorry, I’m just... thinking,” She shook her head and continued.

“Thinking of what?” He asked.

Lena thought about how best to say it.

“I suppose... well... I don’t know. I just-... Do you really believe any of this will ever truly be over?” Lena asked him.

William sighed. “I really hope so... it may not be today, or tomorrow, or even the day after, but in my heart I know one day we’ll finally be truly happy and free from her and her effects.”

“What do you think it’ll be like when that comes?” She asked him. William smiled.

“Well... I imagine there’ll be dancing under a sky full of stars. Music playing softly in the other room, while we just have all the time in the world to ourselves, knowing Yakko, Wakko and Dot are safely tucked to sleep- or even if they aren’t we know they’re safe. They know they’re loved, we know we’re loved, you know you’re loved,” He said, a far-off look on his face indicating he had given this thought before. Lena smiled.

“Dancing under the stars... I’ve missed that,” She agreed with him.

“Perhaps we’ll even go to the garden. We’ll sit on our bench by the fountain where I first proposed to you and we’ll just sit and reflect on the good times we shared, and the good times yet to come. It won’t be the end, after all. There’ll still be a lifetime ahead of us,” He said. Lena closed her eyes, envisioning it.

“That sounds lovely,” She smiled and opened her eyes.

“One day,” He said with a wink.

“We’re doneeee, can you tell us the story now?” Dot ran up to them, grabbing William’s leg. He laughed.

“Alright, c’mon,” He said, peeling Dot from his leg and picking her up instead. Wakko went to Lena and held her hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze, not that either was nervous. Yakko walked on her other side.

Together, the family all went back to the familiar playroom and settled in for storytime with Dad.

Effortlessly he weaved a tale about a beautiful princess, a handsome knight, and a fearsome dragon. Had it been done before? Of course, but it was the audience’s choice and they missed the cliché. He spoke of everlasting love, the princess and the knight saving each other numerous times, and eventually how they lived happily ever after and created a land of prosperity, peace, and love- unlike the age of the Dragon. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his inspiration for such a tale, but it was interesting and exciting nonetheless.

After that, Lena and William played with Yakko, Wakko, and Dot with their dolls, playing a game similar to the story, but with its own twists (like the Princess being fire breathing and could transform into a giant lion and the knight was secretly the God of Thunder) until it was eventually time for diner.

After that, William read them a bedtime story, this time of a lonely siren and a sailor who nearly drowned, which captivated Wakko and Dot easily, though Yakko was tired, and barely awake by the end. Then, they checked for monsters for Dot (a new concern of hers), after which Lena sang them their lullaby and they all went to sleep.

And so several days passed in such a way. Lena would spend her mornings over paperwork and giving signatures and statements and writing to other kingdoms in preparation for her coordination while William watched the kids, and in the afternoon she’d join them for lunch and for some quality family time until it was eventually time to sleep and the cycle would start over. As much as she hated the paperwork portion of her days, she couldn’t deny the quality time made up for it. Seeing her children slowly regain their spirit filled her with more happiness than she could ever describe, especially with the help of Doctor Scratchnsniff.

Ah, yes. Doctor Scratchnsniff. At first, the children were hesitant to meet with him, but after Lena and William offered to sit in with them for their appointments (for the first one, at least) they agreed.

Dot seemed to be liking him, though she found him and his accent strange at first. However, the doctor reported she was already off to a good start and even after meeting twice he said she was making good progress. That was good to hear at least. The sooner her PTSD was gone, the better.

It was evident Yakko liked him less so, but Lena and William weren’t surprised by that. His issues were with being fiercely independent and untrusting so naturally, it was going to take a while for him to open up, which they were okay with. They had all the time in the world now.

Wakko, however, never wanted to be alone with him. He always had Lena sit with him through his appointments, either clinging to her arm, or sitting in her lap the whole time as she stroked his ears or rubbed his back soothingly. He hardly spoke a word at first, which was expected, but the doctor didn’t seem to mind. Hopefully, progress would be made with time.

Lena eventually found time to make an appointment of her own. It felt... odd, to say the least. She was used to the loving and kind support from William, but opening up to Scratchy was a different feeling entirely. She didn’t have to fear what he thought, as he was trained to listen and help. She liked that.

What she liked less was reflecting on her childhood. So many feelings and emotions and twisted memories she didn’t know how to look back on. He said this was natural for victims of childhood neglect and abuse, and she couldn’t deny that.

However, she was processing now. Moving on, as he described it. Acknowledging what happened was the first step, moving on was the next. It was... interesting. Then again, these were only the beginning steps. She still had lots and lots of work to do, but she had all the time in the world.

The days passed in such a sequence, that the day of her coordination threw her off guard. Heck- she had hardly noticed that when she had awakened, maids and dressers were immediately there to get her in the gorgeous cerulean blue, and gold dress they had made for her. It wasn’t until they were trying to comb through her hair she realized the day was special. Sure- she wasn’t normally dressed by handmaidens, but in all fairness, she had just woken up.

Oh god- it was finally happening. Important guests from kingdoms all over were going to arrive to watch her rise to the throne and accept her fate and destiny as the next queen of Warnerstock.

Hell- it felt like Lena blinked and suddenly she was waiting for the doors to open so she could walk down and accept the crown and say the lines and well- get coronated as Queen. She was wearing the nicest gown she’d ever worn in her life, and her ears were unbound, as she was no longer wearing her princess crown anymore.

“You ready Mom?” Yakko asked, adjusting his fancy little outfit. Lena thought he as well as the rest of the kids looked adorable, though it was clear he was rather uncomfortable with the lapels and sash. Still- that didn’t stop Lena from wishing she could get a portrait of him done.

“Hopefully,” Lena laughed through her nervousness.

“You’ll be great, I know it,” Wakko grinned up at her. Lena smiled at him, before noticing his sash was on the wrong shoulder and she fixed it.

“Yeah! You’re super nice and pretty and you’ll be a great queen,” Dot encouraged.

“You’re too sweet, darling,” She thanked her before standing.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, my love,” William placed his hands on her shoulders. “We have your back, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m the luckiest queen-to-be in the world,” Lena chuckled.

“Yep!” Wakko agreed.

“Your highness? They’re ready for you,” said one of the officials. Lena took in a deep breath and nodded.

“Well... let’s go,” She gave them a nod. Her family gave her quick grins and thumbs up, before the door opened, and the ceremony officially began.

The ceremony went perfectly as planned. Not a word nor person was out of place. She recited the vow of protection and service perfectly, didn’t flinch when the cold metal of her new crown touched her head, and even managed not to flinch at the mention of her full name (though she could still feel the internal dread of it). She recited her speech to the people perfectly, gaining their understanding and support with her carefully crafted yet heartfelt words, and eventually, the ceremonies were over and the festivities began.

Quickly, the children ran into the outdoor courtyard with many of the other royal children from nearby kingdoms, and music began to play. However, this wasn’t the stuffy, snooty music her mother would’ve chosen for her coordination, no. This was Lena, and she chose something exciting. A new beginning. Songs that make you kick off your shoes (if you wore those) and dance in circles until you pass out from exhaustion you didn’t know you had because you were too busy being swept away by the fun of it all. Lena danced with her new subjects and partners in foreign policy all day, and even a bit of the night as the sun eventually went down, only stopping when the feast began, or the band needed a break, but then returning right away.

She hadn’t felt this alive in years, and Lena was determined to never let it go. This was what freedom was. This was what life without her mother’s control could be, every day. People laughing, cheering, celebrating, being together and safe and happy.

People were happy.

Lena was happy.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot were happy too, even mingling with children from neighboring kingdoms, with Yakko even finding himself fascinated with a certain dog prince that she and William gave a quick thumbs up to, embarrassing him deeply. Eh, he’d get over it. They were back, and that meant embarrassing him to his crushes- even if he just met them that night.

Wakko and Dot were having fun dancing, and drawing chalk on the ground. Wakko proved himself to be quite the artist, as while he danced he dragged and drew with his tail, and before anyone knew it the whole floor was a Wakko art piece. Sure, it may have stained their feet, but it was truly something to behold. Dot, on the other hand, was chatting with other princesses and citizens, charming them with her classic wit and cuteness that made Lena proud.

And William? For the first time in what felt like forever, he seemed to be enjoying himself too, the worry that was constantly behind those deep, dark eyes she loved so dearly being practically gone. Instead, joy and excitement, as well as love was shining back, as he spun and lifted and danced alongside her to the exciting music of the band. The couple had never felt so alive and free.

Eventually, though, all good things come to an end, and guests slowly began to leave, saying their quick goodbyes to the new Queen, wishing her luck, and promising their loyalties and hopes for the future. It saddened to see things coming to an end, but eventually, the band began to play much slower, softer music, and William took her hand in his and they slowly began to sway under the starlight.

“I told you you had nothing to worry about,” William smirked.

“I know, you’re always right, blah blah blah,” Lena snickered.

William laughed. “I’m serious though, I’m extremely proud of you. You’ve come a very long way for it being less than a month since returning.”

“And here I thought it was already a year,” Lena joked, referring more to the neverending piles of paperwork she managed to go through in such a short time than her time with her loved ones.

“Lena, I mean it. I’m incredibly proud of you,” William made sure she knew it.

“Thank you, dear,” Lena kissed him. “I couldn’t have done this- any of this without you.”

“I know,” He said with a small smile. Lena snorted a little, before stepping closer and leaning against him as they swayed together.

“How’s this for a perfect ending, hm?” he asked.

Lena thought about that, looking around the more than half-empty courtyard.

Wakko was curled up into a ball on a pile of pillows nearby a firepit, looking perfectly warn out and warm. Dot was drawing with chalk next to him, looking half asleep as well. Yakko was telling a story to his new friend, though it was very clear that friend was going to have to leave soon, but whoever was in charge of the boy clearly didn’t have the heart to break the two up, which Lena couldn’t say she blamed them for. They were cute. Kids- but cute.

Then she looked back at William. The love of her life. The man who never once left her side and carried her through the worst moments of their lives, and somehow made it out alive. She kissed him again.

“It’s not completely perfect... but it’s a damn good start,” Lena smiled.

“A damn good start indeed,” William grinned.

And it was a damn good start. After all, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second was married to Sir William the Good, and had three beautiful children she loved more than anything in the world. Her mother was dead, and couldn’t hurt any of them anymore. There were no more secrets, no more lies, and no more abuse.

Together, the Warners were entering a new era; an era of peace, of love, of great healing, and great togetherness. After all- the old queen was dead, proving once and for all that nothing could or ever would keep them apart for long.

They were together now, and together the Warner Family was unstoppable.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 The End

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abarbaricyalp · 3 years

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@sambuckylibrary

SamBucky Halloween Prompt 1: Urban Legends

High School AU, spooky ghost stories and dead girl’s revenge

Rated G: mild cursing (AO3 link in the notes)

Haunt me, baby, one more time

“Legend says that every 17 years, the body of Lyla Ray comes back from the dead, looking for her next victim,” Sam whispered severely. Bucky’s attention was rapt on him, unblinking and fully engaged. “She preys on beautiful young men, the kind that killed her all those years ago. And she cuts their hearts out to eat it.”

“That’s a little on the nose,” Bucky breathed back, but his gaze didn’t waver. The bottom of Sam’s truck bed was starting to get uncomfortable, even with all the blankets he and Bucky had piled into it and Louisiana was hot on October 28th, so the blanket thrown over their heads--turning them into one lopsided ghost to anyone who happened to drive by and look--was getting unbearable.

“Do you want to go see where her body is?” Sam asked.

“I thought you couldn't bury people so close to the coast.”

“She’s buried,” Sam assured. “So far down underground so that maybe she won’t dig her way out.”

Bucky shivered involuntarily and Sam grinned. “How long ago was her last supposed appearance?” he asked.

“A year after we were born.”

Bucky let out a breath of realization. “I see. So she’s supposed to come back tonight,” he said.

“Exactly. If we hurry, we can see her come up.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted the full Louisiana experience while you were stuck down here?”

“Did I say stuck?” Bucky asked, reaching over to cup Sam’s cheek before pulling him into a slow kiss. “I’m sure I didn’t mean stuck.”

Sam grinned against his mouth, a little thankful for the blanket over them since they were parked just off the road. Then again, Halloween always made him feel invincible, so he probably would’ve let Bucky kiss him with or without the blanket.

He let Bucky distract him up until Bucky tried to lay him out over the blankets--later, definitely later--at which point he pushed him back. “Come on, you have to come with me,” he said, pulling on Bucky’s hands.

Bucky sighed like it was the last thing he wanted to do. Maybe it was. Bucky was the biggest skeptic Sam had ever met. Most kids new to the state were wide eyed and excited about the hundred billion ghost stories that permeated every street and building. Not Bucky Barnes though. He couldn’t be tasked to believe in any story about any monster or ghost or legend. Nothing phased him. Not any of the ghost tours Sam had dragged him to, not the haunted houses that had crept up in the weeks leading to Halloween, not the voodoo or tarot shops that always sent a thrill of excitement down Sam’s spine. Bucky just didn’t buy any of it, which made him even more enchanting to Sam’s stupid heart. Opposites attract and all that.

Bucky stood up, knocking the blanket away, and hauled Sam with him before climbing over the edge of the truck and waiting for Sam to do the same. By design, they were already pretty near the cemetery and it was getting dark, so Sam let his fingers graze over the back of Bucky’s hand until Bucky tangled them together.

“Y’know,” Sam said after a few steps, “you’re just like a Layla Ray victim.”

“Am I?” Bucky amused. “How do you reckon?”

“Oh come on. You’re a total pretty boy. Total heartbreaker.”

“Samuel Thomas, have I broken your heart?” Bucky asked in mock affront.

The thought of this thing between them maybe not being permanent broke Sam’s heart every damn day, actually. And Bucky being adamant about going back to New York for college was devastating too. “Not me. But I know you got a string behind you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and knocked their hands against Sam’s thigh softly. “You’re terrible to me. You’re like her victims. You’re breakin’ my heart right now as we speak. And with eyes like that? A mouth like that? Total pretty boy too.”

Sam laughed and leaned into Bucky’s side. “Now you’re just flattering.”

“Nah, it’s true. I’ve heard the girls at school talk about you. All of Sarah’s friends are obsessed with you. Becca thinks you’re the cutest.”

“They’re freshmen. They hardly have taste yet. Sarah’s friends are just happy I pay attention to them in the hallways.”

“Well, Sarah’s friends like you a lot more than Becca’s friends have ever liked me,” Bucky said. “Which has to count for something.”

“Nah, ‘cause you’re an asshole. I totally get where those girls are coming from.”

Bucky glanced down the street before hauling Sam into a kiss that sent Sam’s head spinning through the dark night. “You think assholes can kiss like that, Wilson?”

Sam still couldn’t think but he nodded anyway because being contrary to Bucky was second nature.

Bucky snorted and let go of Sam’s waist. “Then I’m an asshole who likes you a whole lot. Even if you’re, like, super mean to me all the time.”

“You like it,” Sam said and hurried to catch back up to Bucky. “Here, it’s just up ahead.”

“Yeah, I might’ve missed the gate,” Bucky agreed sarcastically.

“We can be a little extravagant,” Sam said, looking up at the metal monstrosity, a remnant of the past, holding all the secrets of the past too. “Gotta keep the ghosts inside, y’know.”

“From what I hear, you’re not very good at that part.”

Maybe not. “Layla Ray isn’t a ghost, she’s a Revenant.”

“She’s a bear?” Bucky asked, just to be obtuse.

“You’re such an asshole,” Sam repeated and pulled him into the cemetery. “She’s buried towards the back, ‘cause she’s so old, y’know. And so that maybe she’ll be confused while she’s trying to get out.”

“Wait a second, this girl has been eating hearts for centuries now and she’s been buried underground for most of the time this cemetery’s been around to keep her buried, but actually it’s not working since she’s been wandering around?”

“That’s not the point,” Sam said, waving his hand in the air. “The point is the story.”

“I get the story. I’m just saying, stick to a reason why she’s buried instead of cremated or something.”

“She’s buried because that’s how the story works.”

“You know, she ought to come after you, usin’ her name and tragic end to scare new kids at your school.”

“We used to come out here all the time when we were kids,” Sam said. “The worst trouble I ever got in was when I brought Sarah with me once and dragged a stick down her arm while she was looking at the gravestone.”

Bucky snorted. “And I’m the asshole.”

“I’ve been waiting for seventeen years for this. Just let me have this one night.”

“If this is a once in seventeen years event, why ain’t no one else out here?” Bucky asked.

“I dunno, guess you grow out of it,” Sam said with a shrug. “Or maybe no one wants to risk being the guy who gets his heart eaten.”

“Right. Or you just made this up to get me out here all alone. Maybe you’re actually the ghost.”

“Am I that unbelievable?” Sam teased. He leaned up and stole another kiss before weaving Bucky to the back of the cemetery. He made sure to avoid walking over any plots that happened to be in the ground, though there weren’t many. Finally, nearer to the back fence, they came to a stop in front of a gravestone that read Layla George Ray 1796-1813 Beloved Daughter.

“I hate looking at tombstones for people our age,” Bucky said, reaching out to run his fingers over the lettering of Layla’s name.

“That’s almost touching, Barnes,” Sam said.

Bucky crouched down to run his hand over the even, cut grass that adorned the top of the grave. “No fresh dirt. Guess your revenant isn’t so hungry tonight,” he said, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “Even with two eligible guys standing around.”

Suddenly a woman’s scream pierced through the night and Bucky sprawled back on his ass, scrambling away without ever being able to get his feet under him.

Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders when they finally collided and then sank down himself, cackling so hard he could barely breathe.

“Oh my God, Barnes,” he gasped. “Your face!”

“Sam!” Bucky cried. “Didn’t you fucking hear that? What was that?”

Sam fell onto his back, clutching at his ribs, knees bent up to his chest. It didn’t help retain any air, but it happened anyway. “Jesus, look at you,” he wheezed and buried his face in his own arm. “You really thought--” He wheezed some more and real tears slipped out from his eyes.

“What?” Bucky asked, still panting, still ready to bolt, but now more confused than terrified. “What are you talking about?”

Sam uncurled himself and held out his phone. The scream pierced through the air again and cut off abruptly when Sam silenced it. “You thought-- You really thought a dead girl was coming out of her grave to eat your heart.”

“You’re a fucking bastard,” Bucky snapped, finally catching up to what Sam had done. He sat back heavily on the ground and Sam broke out in new laughter.

“Your face, Barnes! You were so fucking scared.”

“I thought someone was dying, Wilson.”

“You thought someone was coming back from the dead,” Sam corrected.

“I hate you. I hope you do get haunted.”

“You can’t hope for what you don’t believe in,” Sam pointed out.

“I can hope for what you believe in. And I hope all sorts of creepy shit haunts your ass for years. I hope you don’t sleep for ages.”

“Oh come on,” Sam said with a smug smirk. “You don’t mean that. You love cuddling with me when you think I’m asleep.”

Bucky glared balefully at him. “Cuddling with you when you’re awake is just as fine by me.”

“Besides, if I get haunted, that ghostie’s gonna be all up in your business too,” he pointed out. Finally, he pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand down to Bucky. “Come on, baby. I’ll make it up to you.”

Bucky followed the long line of his arm up to Sam’s face before reaching for his hand and standing as well. “That a promise, Wilson?”

“Well, those blankets weren’t just for story time, y’know.”

“I like the sound of that. Keep on talking.” Bucky closed his fingers around Sam’s and Sam took it as the reconciliation it was. Together, they started for the front gate again.

Behind them, others talked too.

#sambuckyhalloween2021 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fanfic #sambucky fanfiction #captain america #winter soldier #the falcon #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #bingo

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

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@purplesangel, @kokokatsworld, +anons

Decided to do a Turtle of Choice x Fem!Reader thing, since I got that “wanna fuck you against the window” thing for ALL OF THE BOYS. Gonna write it as an AU where the turtle of your choice is the boss/CEO of a prestigious and fancy-pantsy place you work at. So, myeah, nice turts in suits 😏👌 (also mutants are a known thing in that AU)

13: Look what you do to me 26: I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it 57: We’re in public you know 59: Are you sure? Once I start I don’t think I’m able to stop 64: I love the way you look with my fingers inside you 75: If you interrupt me one more time— so help me god 107: Guess I’ll have to cum inside you then

You had started that assistant job out of pure luck after finding an add for it online. That Hamato company had a good reputation regarding advancements of any kinds; techonogical, financial, you name it. The four turtles who oversaw it were seen as the undeclared rulers of Manhattan, their power and influence overseeing many spheres of New York’s scene. They equally shared the role of CEO amongst them, being brothers and their trust infallible. You had been teamed up with one of them, the three others already with an assistant of their own. And you instantly bonded with your boss. He had that charm and appeal that could only bring you closer to him. His reptilian features sure enhanced his beauty, as well as his power - both physical and financial - only enticed you more.

As the days passed, soon they became weeks, and before you knew it it had already been a couple of months since you were working for him. By that time, you two had that inseparable bond that you had to keep secret when at work, for the sole sake of professionalism. But you sure both had that little game going on that had you on edge at times. It would mostly lead to incredible sex when back at his place, but sometimes the tension rose so much at work, you were both tempted to just hide in a broom closet and go at it...

That one time, you had decided to wear that new business suit which its pencil skirt hugged your bottom half so well. You felt powerful, incredibly beautiful and in control. It’s when you were at that top of the world in your esteem that you truly realized that your mutant boss was truly in the palm of your hand - devoted and enamored to you. From the very start of the day you could feel his gaze following you whenever you’d pass in front of his office door, and you frankly wanted to push it further. After collecting some paperwork meant for him, you made a beeline to his office and gently knocked at the doorframe. You knew he was aware of your presence, but you so definitely wanted to play the game...

“Yes?” he said, his eyes slowly going over you.

“I have some documents that are in need of your signature.... But if you’re too busy, I can come by later. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reminder as I’ll walk across this entry many times.”

He leaned back in his chair a little, some amusement showing on his features.

“I don’t think you’d be able to keep walking around all day with those heels and that nice skirt of yours.”

“Are you sure? Once I start, I don’t think I’m able to stop.”

He gulped. You being so assertive all of sudden just made the gears turn so perfectly...

“Alright. Come in. Close the door,” he said, gesturing you to come forward. “I’ll sign those damn paperwork so I can spare you walking a hundred miles in a thight skirt.”

After closing the door, you placed the pile on his desk, sitting across him - only the furniture separating you both. He took out a pen, shuffling through some pages.

“Okay then where do I si-”

“Pages fourteen, twenty-six, forty, and fifty-two,” you cut.

He paused, only his gaze moving up to you with a small frown. Your smirk brought a small sigh out of him, then proceeding to turn to the first page mentionned. After a quick glance at it, he was starting to grow annoyed.

“Oh I hate it when there’s a billion lines. Which one do I-”

You had already sprung to your feet, coming next to him - real close - and pointing to a couple of lines.

“Here, here, annnnd here.”

At your last ‘here’, you had next moved your hand to gently trail along his forearm, your nails softly going against his scales.

“If you interrupt me one more time- so help me god,” he then said.

“I’m just trying to help, sir,” you added, feigning innocence, your hand still on him.

Good lord, he could smell you and it was amazing. He turned his chair to face you, now making you stand in-between his opened legs.

“Help me? Look what you do to me,” his hand slightly motioned downward.

You noticed the starting buldge in his pants, now feeling pleased.

“We’re in public, you know?” he added.

“The door is closed, sir. Unless someone really wants to bother you, this doesn’t count as public...”

It’s as if you had said the exact magic words he needed to hear. One hand at the small of your back, he brought you closer and you were both instantly locked in a kiss. A part of him wanted to throw everything on his desk off to the ground, but he knew in the end that’d he regret trying to put everything back in order (especially the damn paperwork...). Instead his hands started to venture on your form, a part of his touch getting lower and lower to your core.

“That skirt looks good on you,” he purred inbetween kisses.”But I do wonder how it’d look if I lift it up a little...”

As it was thight around your form, that was no easy task, but the mutant let it seem like it was no big deal as he got to the deed.

“Wanna interrupt me again?” he said. “Wanna tell me what to do next?”

“Will I lose my job if I do so?” you answered with a smirk.

“I’ll give you a promotion,” he smiled too.

You stopped talking, prefering to guide him with actions instead. Moving his hand, you drove him to your underwear only so he could start to tease you. He caught on your need, following suit on his own. Both your neediness kept translating through your kisses and touches, every steps in your actions gradually - yet rapidly - evolving to a state that had the two of you repeating the same thought over and over again: I need you right now. He slid his hand into your underwear, aiming for your core. His caress was languid and it just felt so right when he slipped a finger in. You were breathing roughly against his scales, your hands taking support against the upper ridge of his shell. You noticed his renewed smile as he gazed down at this initial connection.

“I love the way you look with my finger inside you...”

“Don’t you want more? I want more,” you mewled, your hips instinctively following his rhythm in small circle motions.

He looked back up to you, his lips aiming for one side of your throath and eagerly traveling to your jaw and cheek.

“More... I do,” he murmured against your skin. “I wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.”

That took you slightly by surprise, although your quick fear died as you remembered that the windows of this building were tinted on the outside - making it impossible for any crowd to see anything. But perhaps he simply wanted to leave a trace of yourself on his side, a phantom trophy for anyone to see, if they had a keen eye. You gasped as he grabbed you easily by your waist, lifting you only to place you against a nearby window. Your arms were quick to wrap around his neck, kissing him again and again as you could feel him struggle a little to set himself free.

“You better not leave any marks on my new suit,” you warned, breathing hard from all that action rushing through your veins.

He smiled, amused and delighted: “Guess I’ll have to cum inside you then.”

A loud gasp left you as you felt his cock enter. His churr invaded your ears as he started with a slow pace, nuzzling you. His large hands were holding you up from the bottom of your ass to a part behind your thighs; perfectly in control. You weighed nothing to this mutant, and that was an incredible turn on... As the seconds passed, the need only grew stronger and stronger. Your skin ached to be mostly covered in clothing, but the spontaneity of it all threw your desire through the roof. You could feel your lover going deeper and stronger, the growl in his throath entertwined with his panting, only for you to hear. Your nails were starting to scrape his scales, unable to contain your excitement - unless you’d allow yourself to scream and moan, which was not particularly ideal.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.... and you’re all mine...,” you heard him say.

“Oh, sir,” you mewled, playful and wanting more.

The warmth of him, mixed with the window’s cold, could only bring you on such a high. You almost forgot how to breathe as you could feel him nibble at your skin and your core rubbing oh so great against him.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna- ... Fuck! I’m gonna-”

You had a hard time speaking, everything a blur.

“Do it, love, I wanna feel you tight around my dick.”

That request had you cumming in no time, the turtle slightly slowing his pace only so he could savor each squeeze of your walls around him. But as soon as you began to calm down, he regained his vigor, already so close.

“Cum with me again, I know you can,” he asked lovingly, followed by kisses.

Without hesitation you brought a hand to your clitoris, rubbing to match his pace. As his name escaped your lips over and over again in silent pleas, you felt your second rush wave in, this time accompanied by the familiar sensation of his release. Both your arms were now again resting around his neck, humming in delight as you kept smiling and nuzzling his cheek.

“... I promote you to employee of the month. Goddamn, even employee of the year,” softly laughed the terrapin.

“If that title comes with benefits such as this, I’ll gladly accept,” you added.

As he removed himself and put you back to the ground, you wobbled slightly as you brought your panties back up, then lowering your skirt to its rightful position. .... Walking in high heels today would prove to be quite the challenge. “You good?” quietly asked the mutant, leaving a hand to your elbow in order to sustain you a little.

“Never been better,” you smirked.

As you took some time to properly arrange your hair, the other proceeded to sign the papers still on his desk, after making sure that his attire was rightfully in place. Once everything was done, you crossed eachother’s gaze and couldn’t help the quiet laughter and snickers from leaving you both, knowing you had lost enough time as it is. Opening the door, the terrapin was also at the frame, handing you the documents.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, miss. You are most certainly a valuable asset in this company as your efficacity brings projects to a fast and most optimal motion.”

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, taking the papers and then professionally shaking his hand. “I only aim to bring the best of me in this workplace.”

“And that is always appreciated.”

You could only strut back to your desk afterward, definitely floating high on a cloud.

#purplesangel #kokokatsworld #anon #ask #prompt #if you guys want more of this AU - I might do some more stuff about that #I just love this aesthetic u__u #also sorry if there's any errors - I kinda went ham on this

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1ddotdhq · 4 years

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⭐️ Tues Sept 15 ‘20 🦊

Lots and lots to get through! Let’s start with an update from my favorite thing from yesterday: the source of the Louis/Harry/Niall LAX rumor was found! Was it the anonymous mystery account we were led to believe? No - of course not! It was actually a fanfic writer, who was throwing around ideas, and someone took them as fact (as people on twitter do), and ran with it. From there it became one messy game of twitter-phone and we were left with a big pile of nothing. Well, that’s what I get for going fact-checking on twitter, I guess.

Let’s talk about things that ARE happening, for sure: Harry cancelled the rest of his shows for 2020 (I thought he had already, but okay) while assuring people that “I really hope to play the shows as planned for 2021 but will continue monitoring the situation over the coming weeks and months”. Idk what to tell you there, H, but France already cancelled at least one show for you, so maybe it’s time to start considering other options?

A podcast with Olivia Wilde dropped today, where she discusses “Don’t Worry Darling”. About the project she said, “It’s a wild and weird and totally bizarre film that we’re making, and we’re making it in the time of COVID which is wild in itself, and it’s such an endeavor. It’s something I’m so excited about in every single way, every single person who is a part of it–the people you mention, people who I can’t mention. What can I say.” This was recorded BEFORE it was confirmed that H was on board for the movie, so he wasn’t at all mentioned, but she describes the project as “fucking batshit - it’s nuts”. Maybe I’m gonna have to get over my aversion to thrillers and make it to the theatres for this one!

And, in another odd follow up from yesterday, Harry is rumored to be in a DIFFERENT Marvel project: he might be playing the MCU’s Starfox in an upcoming movie, although no title has been released, and there has been no official confirmation. The rumor started when a Netflix writer (Kris Tapley) said on September 11th that “Don’t Worry Darling” would be H’s SECOND project since Dunkirk “if we’re counting the Marvel movie no one knows he’s in”. Once again - this is not official, but the discourse around this potential project has, of course, taken off, and it is Mixed. Many fans (myself included!) would love to see him in a Marvel movie. A few others think that “he does not look like a superhero”. To those people, I’d like to pose a question: what does a superhero look like? Answer: like someone who plays a superhero. That’s it. That’s the only criteria.

If that wasn’t enough, Harry himself popped up in a fan pic in London. He HAS indeed shaved his mustache - and his beard lol - but his HAIR! Well, THAT was a TRENDING TOPIC worldwide today on twitter. It’s, um, curly and parted to the right, in case you’re wondering, in a wonderful imitation of Liam’s haircut. Do you think they share a hair stylist????

You know who HASN’T appeared anywhere, despite the Daily Fail’s publishing an article that says he’s been in LA throughout quarantine? Louis! He has been aggressively MIA for most of quarantine, and the few times he HAS been spotted, it’s been in and around London, and once in Doncaster for Lottie’s birthday. You know where he HASN’T been? Los Angeles! Sorry, but somebody better tell the media to get their stories straight square - he’s either in London with Eleanor or in LA with Freddie, but not both at the same time. I don’t know where he is, but rest assured that it isn’t with the Jungwirths/Clarks, who have been documenting every outing they have taken (kids included!) during this global pandemic. And, in fact, smart money says that neither option is what is happening!

Meanwhile, Niall got himself into some hot water on twitter, for, uh, making a joke? Yahoo.com put out an article that was called “Hear Me Out: Niall Horan Was The Best Member of One Direction”, to which Niall replied, “I’m listening 😂”. People....did not like that, and proclaimed that he was being “disrespectful” (oooh, buzzword!) to his other band mates by interacting at all. Niall then confirmed that he had not actually READ the article, he just thought the title was funny, and said, in what can only be read as an exasperated tone, “What’s everyone fighting with me over now? 😂”.

In other news, STREAM PILLOWTALK was also trending worldwide today, as fans try to get the music video to one BILLION view, so, you know, do it!

#harry styles #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #eleanor posted a picture on instagram in maida vale #(where her mom lives)#captioned ‘in my natural habitat’#so like...not with louis #or near his house #we knew this but every time we get further confirmation it just makes me smile #anyways #song of the day!#silence by khalid ft marshmello

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kireiwoo · 4 years

Text

[6:57pm] # jung wooyoung.

“did you sit in a pile of sugar? cause you’ve—” your hands immediately darted up to push wooyoung’s face away from your own, his breath obnoxiously mingling with yours as you lost yourself in his dark eyes. but then he decided to open his big mouth and completely ruin the moment with those google-searched pick-up lines that he insisted would win your heart. you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him that he already owned every piece of it, though.

“i swear to god,” you groaned, your eyes glaring at the perpetrator as he raised his brows from your vulgar language. you couldn’t care less, however, too focused on trying to convince him to stop his tirade with the cheesy pick-up lines. “if you keep saying all of this shit, i’m gonna castrate you,” you saw the playfulness in his eyes morph into fearfulness, pride blooming in the depths of your chest as you realized that you made the infamous and self-proclaimed, fearless jung wooyoung scared. in fact, you were slightly confused as to why he hasn’t broken up with you yet from the multiple times you’ve threatened to take away his ability to make children. maybe fear was his kink?

“come on, you love them!” he whined, somehow finding confidence to go against you even after you threatened him. you raised one brow, your lids falling against your eyes as you provided him with a ‘really?’ look. he smiled shamelessly, giving you a little shrug before he sat back and began belting out random high-notes. sometimes you question what goes on in wooyoung’s mind; he’s extremely random and oftentimes weird but you find it endearing that he’s like this with only you. it makes you feel special and happy that he’s willing to open up his personality to you; even the weird, messed-up parts that neither of you could decipher.

you simply laughed, laying back against the couch and basking in the warmth he radiated. his loudness didn’t faze you, you were very used to it and even welcomed it with open arms. something cute about you and wooyoung was that you both were very different in many senses; he was loud and kindhearted, and you were pretty much the epitome of ‘ice-queen’. it was rare that you ever let anyone in, but wooyoung managed to break down your solid walls in just a few weeks of talking. and then those few weeks eventually developed into months, and soon enough you found yourself cuddled into his arms every day similar to this.

“are you google? because you’re everything i’ve been searching for and more,” he smirked, winking in your direction once he looked up from his phone that he’d miraculously pulled out of nowhere whilst you were deep in thought. you barked out a laugh before shaking your head and responding to his quip, your voice teasing and eyes loving.

“what did you search up? free significant other?” you laughed, clutching your stomach as you watched his face furrow in confusion. then, he pouted and swatted at your covered stomach, making more laughs erupt from deep in your chest as he grumbled about how you ruined his pick-up line. tears spilled from your eyes as you closed them, finally stopping yourself from laughing as you simply laid back and admired the fact that you could joke around with your bad sense of humour and wooyoung wouldn’t even think of judging you.

you weren’t aware of wooyoung’s eyes on your figure, watching fondly as you rose an arm to cover the expanse of your face, tears dripping down from under the shadow of your arm. something about seeing tears cascade down your face made a trigger go off in him; he felt himself soften and his mind immediately went to reminding you of how much he loved you. wooyoung wasn’t proficient in making people feel better; he usually used humour as a coping mechanism himself, so he wasn’t sure how to approach certain things. but he knew that relaying you about his never-ending love for you would definitely make you feel better, even if you weren’t upset and your tears weren’t from sadness.

“what do you see?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the old maroon couch and watching amusedly as you sniffled softly, the tears making your eyes red even though you were crying from too much laughter. “what?” you’d simply asked. obviously you couldn’t see anything, your arm was covering your eyes so the only thing you saw was pitch blackness.

“tell me what you see, right now, with your arm over your eyes,” he asked, humming once into the now calm air.

“i see nothing?” it was more of a question than a statement, but it was all wooyoung needed.

“that’s what i am without you,” he mumbled, hand coming up to grasp your knee as your heart clenched in your chest. despite the fact that it was simply another pick-up line, you felt the genuineness leaking from his voice and the way that he sounded so vulnerable while saying it. it made you feel so happy but so sad for reasons you couldn’t identify; the idea of wooyoung, one of the strongest people you know, showing weakness? you couldn’t comprehend it.

“wooyoung...” you muttered in response, hand leaving your countenance and figure sitting up as you stared at his expression filled with pure affection. you nearly teared up again when he mumbled the softest and smallest ‘i love you’ to you, a smile stretching over his mouth and eyes shining with pure mirth. you couldn’t help yourself, tackling him in a hug that crushed him against the couch.

in that moment, you felt so safe. so serene and unbothered, in a reality that you wouldn’t mind grounding yourself in. things weren’t always peachy in life, the world had its own ways of screwing you over so everything seemed bad. darkness always shaded you in the form of depressive storm-clouds; but you would always have wooyoung’s beautiful smile and presence to make you feel better. through the thickest arguments and the saddest truths, he’d always be by your side regardless of if you wanted him to be. if you needed him to wait, he would wait a billion years just to see your smile and feel your arms wrap around him. you’d never quite known what true love was, but you were sure that you had it now. and it was in the form of jung wooyoung.

“you do have a sweet ass, though.”

“wooyoung!”

#ateez timestamp #ateez reaction #ateez x reader #ateez scenario #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung timestamp #ateez #80’s!#jwy : youngie.

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lailyn · 3 years

Text

Supermarket Sweep

“Now remember, guys. We are here to get a few items, and these items only,” Stephen warned.

“Come on, Stephen. Live a little.” Tony slung an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone grocery shopping together. You never want to take any of us with you when you go.”

“Yes, because when I go to the shops to get bread, bread is what I get. Not a gazillion boxes of mince pies and Christmas pudding.”

“They were on discount!” Tony argued.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “It’s already Easter, of course they were!”

“They were covered in edible gold dust,” Tony said with a defensive shrug. “Loki said the puddings looked really pretty.”

“Yes, they were,” Loki said dreamily.

“Fine, but no more! It’s not the healthiest thing, eating Christmas pudding for breakfast every day, and I had to do it for weeks,” Stephen ranted. “Can we please get something you’re actually going to eat this time? Here, if we stick to the grocery list - ”

“Yes, yes,” Loki sighed, grabbing the list out of Stephen’s hand.

“Thank - ” and Loki crushed the list in his fist and dropped the ball of paper onto the ground, “ - you,” Stephen finished glumly.

“Tsk-tsk, Loki,” Tony chastised. He patted Stephen on the back and bent to pick the crumpled list from off the ground.

“Thank you...“ Stephen’s voice trailed off at the sight of Tony chucking the list into the trash can. “Tony.”

“Tsk-tsk, Stephen. Why do you always concern yourself with such inconsequential matters?” Tony asked, mimicking Loki’s crisp accent. “You’re going to give yourself wrinkles.”

He ruffled Stephen’s hair affectionately, before making his way toward the store entrance where Loki was already pulling out not one, not two, but three shopping trolleys. “Hey, Lokes, wait up!”

“Wrinkles,” Stephen muttered, resisting the urge to finger his face for fear of finding new ones. He was sure a few had just cropped up and they had not been here five minutes.

__________________________

Loki stood at the fruits and vegetable section, half-listening to Stephen and Tony argue over the merits and demerits of getting imported fruits over local, seasonal ones for Happy Hogan’s fruit basket, who was currently in hospital recovering from something called a pacemaker operation.

Loki did not understand why they were making their own fruit basket as a get-well gift instead of doing the conventional thing by ordering it online.

Stephen had said something about how a personal human touch would make anything more special and...Loki could not very well argue with that, having acquired not one, but two personal humans of his own.

Oh look. A little human.

"Hello," he said mildly as a woman pushed a trolley past him.

She only gave him a suspicious look before clearing her throat.

Loki took a few steps to the side to allow her access to the ready-to-eat chilled soups and packaged salads.

Soon, he found himself locked in a staring match with the toddler sitting in the trolley.

Loki wondered what it would be like if they had little humans of their own. Their place was certainly big enough for a dozen of them.

He reached for the 'Free Fruit for Kids' display basket, picked a banana from the pile of loose fruits and held it out to the boy.

"Eat it," Loki commanded.

Tony lunged and grabbed the banana out of Loki's hand, before dragging his lover down the aisle as far away as possible from the boy and his mother, who by now, was looking seconds away from calling the police.

"Loki, you can't feed other people's kids without their permission!" Tony hissed, while Stephen apologised profusely to the woman in the background.

"I see," Loki murmured, unperturbed. "If I wanted to feed little humans, I have to make sure they are my own."

"Huh?" Tony asked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Loki only hummed appreciatively at the revelation and walked away. This required some thinking and quite possibly a serious discussion with his humans.

________________________

“Sumac? What do you even use that for?”

Loki shrugged. “It’s the only one we don’t have. It is not my fault that the ancient Romans settled for so many letters in their alphabet system.”

Loki was obsessed with the supermarket’s own-brand must-have A-Z selection of spices. He hardly cooked but whenever he deigned to help out in the kitchen, Tony and Stephen had better use one if not most of the spices.

“What do you mean? There’s plenty of spices starting with S.”

“Name one.”

“Sage.”

“You said sage makes your eyes water.”

“Salt. Salt begins with ‘S’.”

“Salt isn’t a spice.”

“Is too.”

“A spice by definition is a seed, fruit, root, bark or other plant substance. Salt isn’t any of those, is it?”

“You just want to collect all the bottles, don’t you?”

“They’re pretty,” Loki said simply. He nuzzled his pout against Tony’s stubbled jaw. “I like pretty little things.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked huskily. “What else do you like?”

Loki’s smile widened.

_______________________

“You do know there is a reason why supermarkets are laid out the way they are?” Stephen asked dryly upon finally locating his husbands in the cereal aisle after a fruitless search of the first few aisles, which they had obviously bypassed. “This is why it takes ages shopping with you guys.”

His two husbands appeared to be engaged in a hushed but heated discussion about something.

Stephen frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tony and Loki said, almost in unison.

“Loki, please step away from the trolley,” Stephen requested politely.

Loki tried to stand his ground in front of the trolley, but groaned in frustration when Stephen simply put his hands on Loki’s hips.

Loki could never win against his husband’s tactile style of persuasion. Very, very reluctantly he stepped away from the trolley.

Stephen dug through the boxes of all sorts of sugar-free, multi-grain based breakfast cereals, all offerings to appease Doctor Stephen Strange.

Just as he expected, right at the very bottom of the trolley, were a few boxes each of Frosties, Fruit Loops and Honey Nut Cheerios.

“Can you leave me just one?” Loki pleaded. “Please?”

Stephen had to smile to himself. Innocent subterfuge aside, Loki could have used magic to conceal his treasure trove of teeth-rotting cereal but he did not.

He replaced the healthy cereals back on the shelf, leaving Loki’s selection untouched in the trolley.

Tony and Loki stared at him in bewilderment.

“Live a little, right?” Stephen sighed. “Just as long as you eat them, I’m happy.”

Stephen had never seen Tony beam more proudly or Loki’s eyes shine as bright, and he wondered if he had not been bewitched, just a little bit.

_______________________

“That was such a good trip, wasn’t it?” Tony gushed as he stepped out of the portal.

“Yep.” Stephen had to agree. “There was no magic, no stealing, no stabbing. I think we did alright, considering.”

“We did awesome,” Tony corrected. He had to pause in the midst of gushing to enjoy the sudden kiss Stephen was planting on his mouth. “See? I was right. We should do more of these things together, just the three of us.”

“Oh.”

Tony and Stephen turned.

“What is it, Games?” “Did you forget to get something?” They spoke at the same time, noticing the frown on Loki’s face.

Then Stephen noticed a brown paper bag in Loki’s hand that had not been there when they left the store. “What have you got there, babe?”

From the bag, Loki slowly retrieved a chocolate Easter bunny half the size of a football. Then he took out two more, arranging the three of them neatly on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t eat chocolate, but thanks anyway,” Stephen said, relieved that Loki’s secret purchase had simply been chocolate. Their not-strictly-human husband had brought back some strange items in the past.

Loki rummaged through the paper bag again.

“There’s more?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to disappoint you, Lokes, but the bunnies are 100% chocolate, they only wrap them in gold paper - ”

A tiny Easter bunny joined the family of three on the counter.

A silence so absolute fell over the house that Loki could practically hear his human husbands’ fantastic brains turn and their heartbeats pick up pace.

“What do you think?” Loki asked, hoping his shaking voice would not give his fears away .

“What do we - ” Stephen swallowed hard. “Are you saying that you’re - ?”

Tony was lost for words. He hurried to Loki’s side.

“No, no.” Loki shook his head vehemently. “No…” Before he could hesitate for too long, “But I could be.”

The tightening of Tony’s arm around his waist gave Loki the final push he needed. “I suppose what I am trying to ask is...could we be?”

Tony and Stephen’s exchange of stunned looks lasted only a second before Stephen dropped the grocery bag he was holding onto the floor. He marched across the kitchen and closed the distance between them.

Before Loki knew it, Stephen had wrapped his arms around them both, engulfing his husbands in a rough hug.

“I’m in.” Stephen kissed Loki and Tony’s temples one after the other, over and over. “I’m so fucking in.”

“Tony?” Loki called his name uncertainly.

“Gosh, Loki. You promised you wouldn’t make my eyes water,” Tony managed.

Loki bit the inside of his lip. “I would apologise for that, but uh, does that mean you’re in?”

“Of course I’m in, silly!” Tony laughed. “Someone needs to inherit all my billions!’

#ironstrangefrost #ironstrange #frostiron #strangefrost

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nose-bandaid · 3 years

Text

a hug per dollar

hello! it's me, the platonic anon from before... may i request a non-romantic, changgu & gender-neutral reader, coffee/study date? and maybe you could work in a reassuring hug 🥺 thank you so much 💛

Yeo One (Changgu) x (gender neutral) Reader | Platonic fluff + comfort?! | 1.8k words

synopsis: overworking can sometimes be an easy, but terrible habit to fall into, but luckily, changgu is there to drag you out when you do.

a/n: lol i think i projected this to have 1.2k but it ended up with 1.8 but i am not complaining !!!! to my dear platonic anon, sorry this took so long ksdhfkdsj i hope you enjoy it !! i may or may not have done an uno reverse on stud.hui.o fanatic because now it is the reader who's overworking BAM 💛

=====

"Don't you think we've been here for long enough?"

Your hand stopped writing the flurry of notes and you looked at your friend, who peered back at you over his laptop. "Changgu, it's literally only been..."

You flipped your phone over to look at the time on its display and faltered when you realized just how late into the day it was. "I guess we have been here for a while."

"Which is exactly why I think we should—"

"But I'm not ready to leave yet!" You snapped back, immediately backing off when you realized how harsh your voice was.

"You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" He pressed on and you buried your face back into the piles of work laid in front of you.

"We don't talk about that either."

He let you be and the two of you went back to working in silence for the next while until Changgu eventually got up from his seat. Your eyes followed him as he stretched and let out a sigh. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

"Okay." You replied, and returned to your work.

=====

Not long after, a juice box slid into your view and you looked up at Changgu who returned after his bathroom break that took much longer than a usual bathroom break would've taken. You quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"You got juice from the bathroom?"

He laughed and you took note of the other juice box in his hand — the exact same flavour as yours. "Of course I did. They added vending machines in the bathroom recently, didn't you know that?"

You decided to play along. "Is that so? No, I didn't know that. But do enlighten me as to why you would ever trust a vending machine located in the bathroom."

He laughed at your small jest. "Nah, I just went on an adventure to grab us some fuel." He dropped back into his seat and let out a relieved hum as he stared at his laptop. "After finishing that stupid essay I think I deserved the treat."

"You know, if you're done working you can always head back first. I'm fine on my own."

He shook his head adamantly at your offer. "This is our study session, you know? It's a we thing," he emphasized that with a point to the table. "So I'm not leaving until you're also done."

You sent him a small smile in appreciation and returned to your textbook, taking a small sip from the juice box as you did. It was refreshing and in the back of your mind, you wondered how he knew this was your favourite flavour. You didn't recall ever telling him.

"Though I think you've done more than enough work for today."

You didn't miss the next thing he muttered quietly.

"Look, Changgu, I'll just finish this chapter and we can call it today, okay?" You desperately held up a finger to assist in your pleading.

"One chapter and one chapter only." He reluctantly gave in, deciding to get a head start on another assignment in the meanwhile. Once again, you settled back into a comfortable silence, listening to the distant voices of others in the library.

You ended up finishing that chapter quicker than you initially thought you would and it flared up a new flame of determination within you. You could cram in a few more chapters then, right? You'll get them done in no time, especially with the flow you had now.

Agreeing with yourself, you got started right away.

You're pretty sure Changgu noticed when you flipped the page again.

And again.

Surely he's noticed the way you're slouched over a bit more now, the way your eyes were drooping and your gaze became unfocused. The way you've hardly touched the bag of snacks since he opened it. But you kept on going. Your determination knew no limits and you kept on going despite all the rational part of you that screamed at you to stop.

...Now, where did you leave off before you started daydreaming?

Right, at the end of this paragraph. You returned to staring at the mundane words in the textbook. You swore you were almost finished with this page but you also told yourself that what felt like hours ago. No matter how many times you read the same sentence over and over again, the words never seemed to stick in your mind. Your hand couldn't figure out what to write and what to leave out. All of it seemed important and you cursed the way your next exam weighed so much and yet gave you such vague preparation instructions. If only you had started studying earlier... but wasn't one week enough? Maybe you just weren't fit for this? Probably, because —

Changgu placed his hand onto yours. He gently pulled the pen out of your grasp and gestured for you to look at him.

"Let's take a break, you have no say in it. Seeing you like this makes me exhausted, I can't take this anymore."

No matter how many times you've drilled into your mind that it was absolutely not okay to take a break, the moment you heard the words from someone else, your composure crumbled.

You let out a deep sigh and let your weight rest on the table. "Yeah let's."

Changgu helped you pack your work away after cleaning up his own and waited until you were fully ready. When you slid the chair back to its former home, he held out a hand for you to take and you happily took a place by his side.

"Are you going to take me on another adventure?" You playfully asked, already feeling a little better now that your work was tucked away.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I had no clue where I was going to take you 'cause I didn't think you'd actually stop studying. But sure! Let's make this an adventure."

Stepping outside, you realized how much nicer it was to have a change of scenery. It was already late afternoon, the sun shining brightly above, engulfing you in a pleasant kind of warmth.

You sighed inwardly, this would've been more relaxing if your mind would just stop drifting back to all the work you still to be done. Hadn't you done enough? You worked so hard for the past who-knows-how-many-hours and yet it only left you unsatisfied and even more stressed.

Maybe it just wasn't enough.

A gentle bop on your head brought you out of your thoughts and you stared at Changgu, his hand still raised from bonking your bad thoughts away.

"Stop thinking so much." He crossed his arms and looked at you pointedly.

"Huh?"

Squinting his eyes, his face leaned into yours, getting closer and closer, and you found yourself edging away from the intrusion. Just as quickly as it started, he suddenly disappeared, straightening his back again and letting out a huff.

"Just as I thought."

"What?" You asked again, still lost.

"You're thinking bad things about yourself again! Stop that."

"How did you know?"

He playfully punched your shoulder at that. "I'm your best friend, you think I wouldn't notice these things? You always have this expression on your face when you're beating yourself up. Looks kinda stupid."

Your mouth gaped at his remark. "Hey!'

"I'm kidding, you never look stupid," he smiled and continued. "But what is stupid is you thinking that you're not good enough because you can't keep up with everything that's going on. Can you really blame yourself if some uncontrollable force decided to dump an unreasonable amount of work on you all at once? You're doing your best, which is one, really paying off because I swear you've covered like a billion chapters today. And two, is extremely cool — I heard the group studying behind us gush about how hard you were working and guess what?"

"...What?" You asked hesitantly, still trying to recover from your friend's spiel.

Changgu grabbed your shoulders to keep your attention. "I also think you're really really cool!!" He announced loudly, capturing the attention of a mother and her daughter nearby. They walked away after the initial surprise.

Your lip trembled, not even having it within you to be embarrassed by his public confession. Instead, you were overwhelmed by his kindness. "Changgu..."

He pulled you into a hug and you basked in his presence. The faint smell of fresh laundry lingered on his hoodie and you melted into his comfort. "You're doing great, and you'd be doing even better if you let yourself breathe for a moment. As overwhelming as it may feel, the only thing that's going to bring you down is yourself if you keep on going at this rate — not your work." He gently scolded before he pulled away and cupped your face, eyes boring into yours.

"Got that?"

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"I don't know... that wasn't really convincing..."

You laughed lightly and pushed his hands away from you. "I got it, I got it, Changu. Thank you so much." You found yourself much more relaxed after your talk. "From studying with me to buying me snacks and comforting me... aargh, I appreciate it."

Changgu simply gave you a bright smile. "Anything for you."

That was all he said, but those 3 words were enough to express just how much you meant to each other.

"Besides, I don't think of it as a chore, any time spent with you is great."

You pouted. "You're too good for me, seriously. How can I make it up to you?"

In all honesty, you expected him to dismiss the question, but instead, Changgu's eyes wandered off as he placed a finger on his chin. "Well, I did notice that my favourite drink is on sale when I passed by that cafe on the way here..."

You sent him an amused look. "The juice wasn't enough?"

"Are you telling me to pass on a sale that takes a whole dollar off?"

Once again, you found yourself playing along with his act and your eyes widened. "Oh geez, you're right, we can't miss out on that." Pushing Changgu from behind, you ushered him forward. "Let's get moving! We spent so much time in the library the shop's going to close by the time we get there."

Changgu chuckled as you caught up and fell into step with his movements. "I'm glad to see that you're back to normal."

"And I'm glad we get to save a buck on overpriced drinks. Thanks for everything, Changgu." You swiftly replied and he sent a smile your way.

"Anytime."

#newskynet #kdiner #pentagon #pentagon yeo one #yeo one #yeo changgu #pentagon x reader #changgu x reader #yeo one x reader #pentagon fluff #changgu fluff #yeo one fluff #nose-bandaid

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