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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: July

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: June

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July 2020

Chris was stressed.

It was understandable as he'd just launched his new endeavour - A Starting Point - but it was worrying me how anxious and overwhelmed he seemed to be. The feedback so far had been good, but he was still concerned about how it was going to be received and whether or not people would actually find it useful. He had several long, full days of interviews scheduled to promote it and explain what they hoped to achieve and, after the first week, he was exhausted which made him moody and withdrawn.

It didn't help that Grayson had quickly adjusted to having our undivided attention and was growing increasingly frustrated with his dad's busy schedule. The Friday after the launch, Chris promised him that he'd be done by bedtime so he could tuck him in, but technical difficulties got in the way and he was once again stuck in front of his laptop until well into the evening.

And that was where I found him, at almost nine o'clock, when I went to see if he'd be finished anytime soon. I'd poked my head around the door and saw him sat at his desk with his head in his hands and the sight made my heart ache. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"Hey," I greeted him softly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," he assured me, but the sigh that followed told me otherwise. "Just tired. It's been a busy week."

"It has. We've missed you."

My words weren't meant to add guilt to his stress, but I realized my mistake when he winced.

"Sorry," he mumbled, placing a kiss on my arm where it rested across his chest. "I did try to finish early today - I suggested we push the last interview until tomorrow when we hit the connection issues, but they weren't having it. Was Grayson mad that I missed bedtime again?"

"Not mad," I shrugged. "Just a bit disappointed."

Chris' head fell forward and his shoulders stiffened.

"That's worse."

"No, it's not," I insisted, squeezing him tightly. "He was just a little sad, but he got over it. I promised him that you'd do something fun with him when you weren't so busy and he accepted that."

"I was actually thinking of taking him to the museum to see the dinosaur exhibit," Chris admitted. "They just reopened, but he'd have to wear a mask."

"He'd love that," I smiled, knowing how much both of them loved their father and son days. We'd made an effort to give him more one on one time, but it was limiting when we hadn't been able to leave the house much until recently. "And I think he'd be okay with a mask. We can order one and get him to wear it at home for a bit to get used to it."

"Good idea," Chris nodded. "I can do that tomorrow"

"Or I can," I suggested, kissing the side of his head. "You're busy enough at the moment. And you're stressed, I can feel the tension in your shoulders."

Chris sighed again and I felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"I know. This project just means a lot to me. I want it to do well."

"And it is," I reminded him as an idea hit me. "C'mon, I know what you need to help you relax."

"Oh, yeah?" Chris smirked and I rolled my eyes as his mind had clearly gone straight to something dirty. "What would that be?"

"Probably not whatever you're thinking of," I informed him. "But there's some pizza left in the kitchen. Go have a slice of that and then meet me in the bedroom."

"Alright, I like the sound of this."

His smirk had grown and I swatted the back of his head as I slid my arms off of his shoulders.

"Don't be such a perv!"

He laughed and stood up from his chair as I shook my head and he pulled me in for a quick kiss before we headed downstairs and went our separate ways.

If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was run the perfect bath for relaxation. It had been my tradition every evening after I'd dropped Gray off at Chris' house - I would pour myself a glass of wine and take a bath, enjoying the opportunity for a long soak without the risk of Grayson interrupting. The bathtub in Chris' en suite made that indulgence even better due to it's size and depth and I'd taken advantage of it several times during our stay with Chris. Which meant that I had quite the assortment of bath salts and bubble bath to create the perfect bath for Chris.

The tub had just finished filling up when he walked in and I heard him chuckle at the sight.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed."

"Oh, shush," I teased, turning around to face him once I'd turned off the taps. "This will be much more effective than whatever you were imagining."

Chris scoffed at that claim, a smirk firmly on his face.

"I disagree."

"I'm sure you do, but that's too bad. Now, strip."

"Ooh, I like it when you're bossy."

His comment earned another roll of my eyes as I crossed my arms and waited for him to do as I'd instructed.

As he did, I couldn't help, but stare. He seemed to be toning up even more during our quarantine and the sight of his perfectly sculpted body took my breath away every time I had the luxury of seeing it. He caught my gaze and colour flooded my cheeks as I knew that he'd seen me gawking at him, but despite the smug look on his face, he made no comment as he climbed into the tub.

Once he was settled with his head resting back on the edge of the tub, I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and picked my phone up from where it was sitting on the counter. I unlocked the screen with the intention of replying to my mother who had messaged me while I was getting the bath ready, but a giggle slipped from my lips when I saw what was already open on my phone from earlier that day. Chris raised a questioning eyebrow and I debated whether or not to tell him about it. It had the potential to send his stress levels sky rocketing again, but if he thought I was hiding something from him, it would probably irritate him and ruin his mood anyway so I came clean.

"Hannah sent me a link to an Instagram account today that posts lots of gossip stuff," I informed him. "Most of it seems to be just random submissions, but they've been right a few times, I guess, so people seem to believe whatever they say now."

"And why did she send you a link to it?"

"Because apparently you're engaged."

I was smiling as I broke the news to him because obviously I knew it wasn't true, but Chris let out a groan of annoyance.

"Engaged to who?! To you?"

"No, to a mysterious blonde. Apparently, the person who sent in the message has a friend who spotted you picking up some takeout with this woman. Her ring was clearly on display and you were openly affectionate with her while you waited for your food."

"That's just a straight up lie," Chris huffed. "I don't know why people waste their time making this shit up and I really don't know why you bother reading it."

"It's not like I seek it out, but Hannah finds it entertaining to see what people are saying about us," I shrugged. "You have to admit that it's kinda funny. It sends everyone into such a frenzy."

Chris shot me a look.

"Funny isn't the word I'd use."

"C'mon, it's a little amusing!" I smiled, scrolling down to the comments. "Like, look, they're discussing whether or not I fit the description in case I just dyed my hair blonde. But then someone else says they saw me in L.A. two weeks ago, around the time you were with the blonde woman, so it couldn't possibly be me. They're like little detectives."

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was a reluctant smile on his face.

"Detectives aren't allowed to just make things up," he pointed out. "Unless you took a secret trip a few weeks ago that I didn't know about."

"No, I didn't," I laughed. "You have some very creative fans."

"I don't think it's my fans who write that stuff. It's probably other people trying to antagonize them."

"Well, it works like a charm. They go nuts trying to decide if it's true. I just wish they wouldn't get so mean about it sometimes," I admitted. "Like, some of them were saying how glad they were that you'd moved on from me finally because of how cruel it is that I ruined your life by trapping you with a baby."

The scowl on Chris' face instantly returned with that additional information and I scolded myself for saying it.

"I should have let Downey sue them all like he wanted to when it first leaked that you were pregnant," Chris huffed. "Then maybe by now these gossip pages would know better than to post shit about us."

"It would have just made things worse," I insisted as a smirk slid onto my face. "Besides, it doesn't really bother me. I'm the one sitting next to you while you lounge completely naked in a bubble bath while they spiral into a jealous pit of despair."

That comment earned me a laugh before he sat up a bit higher in the tub.

"Why are you sitting over there anyway?" He asked. "Get in here with me."

I smiled at his demand, but shook my head.

"This isn't supposed to be a sexy bath. You're supposed to be relaxing."

"And what better way to relax than to share a bath with the woman I love?"

A statement like that was hard to resist, especially as he grinned up at me from the tub with that amazing smile of his. I relented with surprisingly little resistance and rose from where I was sitting.

"I suppose that's fair..."

Putting my phone back on the counter, I turned so my back was to Chris. I could feel his eyes burning into me as he stared and I bit back a smirk. I quickly undid the button on the shorts I was wearing and slid them down my legs, bending at the waist as I stepped out of them. A noise of approval came from behind me as I stood up again and I shot him what I hoped was a sexy look over my shoulder before I pulled my shirt over my head. After slipping out of my bra and quickly pulling off my panties, I left them with my shorts and turned around with one hand over my chest to keep it covered until I was settled in the tub under all the bubbles.

"Wow," Chris grinned. "You're so fuckin' hot."

I giggled at his compliment, feeling a wave of self-confidence from my little strip tease.

For the past few weeks I'd been spending more time in Chris' home gym and I was feeling the positive side effects - more than just in my slowly developing muscle tone. We'd had a fight one night not long after our first pool day when I made some self-deprecating comments that rubbed Chris the wrong way. He scolded me rather harshly for always talking badly about my body and, while at first his exasperated reaction made me shut down, it eventually led to a very open conversation.

I explained that I wasn't just fishing for compliments all the time. I had some serious insecurities and - as analyzed by Hannah who was a very well trained psychologist - I tended to put myself down first before someone else could do it. I informed him that it wasn't just the body changes that come from pregnancy that bothered me, but the fact that I hadn't had much time to go to the gym since Gray was born - when he was with me, I was busy with him and when he was with Chris, I was busy with work.

He understood where I was coming from and reminded me that his home gym was available for my use any time I wanted, but insisted that I make sure I was doing it for the right reasons. He didn't want me killing myself to change how I looked when I didn't really need to, but I assured him that my motivations weren't all vanity related. Sure, I wanted to look good, but I missed feeling strong and healthy.

After our conversation, I’d started taking some time every day to get some exercise and the difference it was making to my confidence even after a few short weeks was huge. So, hearing Chris' praise now made me feel wonderful because I was actually starting to believe it.

"Thanks," I smiled in response to his compliment as I got settled in the bath tub. We were facing each other, my legs draped over his thighs so my feet were resting by his hips and my bum was between his shins. He grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together as he watched me with what could only be described as an adoring look. "It's amazing what a few weeks at the gym can do."

"Helps that you were pretty hot to start with too," he teased. "But I'm glad you're feeling more confident."

"Me too." I leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his lips. "So, are you feeling more relaxed?"

"I am," Chris nodded before letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry I've been so stressed out lately. I just want this whole thing to go well."

"And it is," I repeated my earlier assurance. "So far you've had a great reaction."

"For now," he frowned. "I just want people to actually use it and get involved."

"They will," I assured him, leaning in for another kiss. "Have I told you how proud I am of you? You're doing such a great thing, using your influence to try and make a difference. It's very inspiring."

"Well, I think you're too kind," he told me, trying to be humble despite the proud grin on his face. "Really, it's the least I can do."

"Nope, the least you could do is nothing," I pointed out. "But you're trying to help people and I'm so proud of you for that. I'm grateful that Grayson has a dad like you to look up to."

It appeared - for a brief moment - that Chris' eyes grew a little bit glassy, but he blinked a few times and they were clear once again.

"Thanks, Winnie." He paused to clear his throat. "That really means a lot and I'm sorry I've been so busy this week. I have one more podcast interview to do tomorrow morning and then I have a few days off."

"I'm glad you'll get a break, but you don't need to be sorry," I assured him. "Even though it has been kinda weird. It's crazy that a few months ago, we only ever saw each other in passing, but now I miss you when you're busy for even a few hours."

It was true. I had missed him the last few days and it did seem ridiculous when we used to go weeks without seeing each other and even then it was just briefly at a pick up or drop off. I'd been spoiled the last few months, having so much of his time. Now, seeing him every day wasn't even enough if I didn't have much of his undivided attention.

A brief flash of dread tore through me as I shared that thought with Chris because I knew this would all come to an end some day. We couldn't stay locked away in his house forever, eventually we would both have to go back to work and I knew it would make things harder. Some people found that the intense quality time was testing their relationship, but I was worried that we'd start to crumble as soon as we weren't together almost twenty-four hours a day. Once the world of Hollywood got it's claws back in Chris, I couldn't help but wonder where that would leave me.

But as always when those thoughts filled my mind, I did my best to push them away. It was likely still months before anything would change so there was no point in stressing about it now and Chris chuckled, bringing me back to the moment.

"Awe, you’ve missed me?"

His words were accompanied by a cocky smirk and I smiled despite my rolling eyes.

"Shut up."

"It's sweet. I never thought you'd be a clingy kinda girlfriend."

I wrinkled my nose in displeasure at that thought and shook my head.

"I'm not clingy!"

"Kinda sounds like you are," he pointed out. "Can't even get through a work day without pining for me."

"I wasn't pining!" I huffed, but he continued insisting that it seemed like I was. "Well, I was just about to suggest we get out of this bath, but now I think maybe you don't deserve what I was thinking of doing next."

"Get out? You just got in," Chris pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "What else have you got planned?"

Now it was my turn to smirk as I rested my hands on the side of the tub before pushing up until I was standing in front of him.

"A little extra relaxation," I told him, deliberately keeping it vague. "But I guess now, you'll never know."

I stepped out of the tub and grabbed my towel. With one last glance back at Chris who was still sitting in the bath, looking a mix of surprised and intrigued, I wrapped the towel around myself and left the bathroom - making sure to sway my hips a little more than usual on my way out.

I heard the water slosh as Chris leapt up to follow me and he appeared in the bedroom - towel around his waist and water dripping to the floor - moments later.

"Chris!" I laughed. "You're getting the floor all wet!"

"So are you," he pointed out. "But I don't care."

I hardly had time to take in his words before he strode swiftly across the room and pulled me against his chest. His hands gripped my hips so tightly that it undid my towel and he moved just briefly enough for it to fall to the floor. Once that was out of the way, he captured my lips in a kiss so fierce it made my breath catch in my chest.

I indulged for a moment, enjoying the feel of his hands roaming by body as his lips worked against mine, but then I remembered who this evening was supposed to be about. I pulled back slightly, just enough to trail my lips across his jaw and locked them onto a spot just below his ear as my hands moved to the towel around his waist. I could feel a slight bulge pressing against me - he wasn't hard yet, but it was clear that the anticipation was having an effect on him - and I untucked the towel and let it fall down with mine to give me easier access.

I heard Chris take in a shaky breath and felt him tighten his grip on me as I took him in my hand. Smiling against his skin and enjoying his little reactions, I stroked him until he was thick and full from my touch.

"Get on the bed."

Chris' tone was demanding and there was definitely a part of me that wanted to follow his instructions, but I resisted and moved my face away from where it was buried in his neck, shaking my head.

"No, this is all about you," I reminded him. "You need to relax."

He voiced a few protests as I kissed my way down his chest, but he fell silent as I dropped to my knees in front of him. His hands were clenched in fists by his side while I continued to gently stroke him, placing soft kisses on the top of his thigh, but when my kisses moved closer until my lips landed on his cock, his hands shot to grip in my hair. He wasn't forcing anything or trying to control my movements, but the sense of control that action gave him was something I knew he enjoyed and I smiled before getting down to business.

I licked him slowly from base to tip, making him shudder as I took him into my mouth. His hips twitched, pushing farther in and I did my best to accommodate him. Letting him slide slowly over my tongue, I stretched my jaw to get my mouth around his thick shaft. He always felt big - he was big - but this action made it even more apparent and I took as much of him as I could before sliding back up his cock.

Pausing for a moment to suck at the tip, I used my hand to stroke him as I lifted my eyes to look up at his face. His hand gripped my hair tighter as he threw his head back briefly, then returned his gaze to me and met my eyes. I smiled around his cock before letting my lips move farther down, taking him back in my mouth. Not feeling completely confident in my ability to deep throat someone of his size, I used my hand to cover the base and began to bob my head with renewed enthusiasm, spurred on by all the sighs and groans that were falling from his lips.

I could feel myself growing wet. His reactions, the position we were in, the slight tug of my hair - it was all overwhelming me and increasing the temptation to let him fall from my mouth, push him onto the bed and ride him until we both couldn't take it anymore, but I tried to stay focused as I worked his cock.

After a few minutes, I could tell he was getting close as his grip on my head began leading me more and more, a sign his self control was waning. That only spurred me on, but as his breathing shifted until he was practically panting and I could feel his thigh muscles tensing where my hand was resting, I heard a sound that would kill any mood.

"Mama!"

Grayson's voice floated down the stairs. It was distant and quiet, but enough to make my blood run cold as I instantly pulled my mouth off Chris.

"Fuck," Chris groaned, a pained look on his face as I shot up from where I was kneeling. "Fuck, that kid has bad timing."

Gray called for me again, sounding slightly closer than he had before and I threw on one of Chris' shirts that was crumpled up on the bed. Luckily, it fit me like a dress and covered everything that needed to be covered.

"I'm so sorry, babe," I flashed him an apologetic look. "I'll take care of him and you can take care of that."

I gestured to his still very hard and throbbing cock and the poor man looked like he wanted to cry as I hurried out of the room.

Turns out, Grayson was just thirsty so after a quick drink of water, I tucked him back into bed. By the time I returned to our bedroom, Chris was fast asleep as he lay sprawled out, still naked on top of the duvet. It looked as if he had just collapsed onto the bed and even though he was asleep, his face still showed his exhaustion. I felt a flash of sympathy as I pulled the blanket off the back of the chair in the corner of the room and covered him up with it, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before climbing in to my side of the bed.

August

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor

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As recently as September 2020 David Tennant topped a Radio Times poll of favourite Doctors. He beat Tom Baker in a 2006 Doctor Who Magazine poll, and was voted the best TV character of the 21st Century by the readers of Digital Spy. He was the Doctor during one of Doctor Who‘s critical and commercial peaks, bringing in consistently high ratings and a Christmas day audience of 13.31 million for ‘Voyage of the Damned’, and 12.27 million for his final episode, ‘The End of Time – Part Two’. He is the only other Doctor who challenges Tom Baker in terms of associated iconography, even being part of the Christmas idents on BBC One as his final episodes were broadcast. Put simply, the Tenth Doctor is ‘My Doctor’ for a huge swathe of people and David Tennant in a brown coat will be the image they think of when Doctor Who is mentioned.

In articles to accompany these fan polls, Tennant’s Doctor is described as ‘amiable’ in contrast to his predecessor Christopher Eccleston’s dark take on the character. Ten is ‘down-to-earth’, ‘romantic’, ‘sweeter’, ‘more light-hearted’ and the Doctor you’d most want to invite you on board the TARDIS. That’s interesting in some respects, because the Tenth Doctor is very much a Jekyll and Hyde character. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic, and travelling with him can be addictively fun, but he is also casually cruel, harshly dismissive, and lacking in self-awareness. His ego wants feeding, and once fed, can have destructive results.

That tension in the character isn’t due to bad writing or acting. Quite the contrary. Most Doctors have an element of unpleasantness to their behaviour. Ever since the First Doctor kidnapped Ian and Barbara, the character has been moving away from the entitled snob we met him as, but can never escape it completely.

Six and Twelve were both written to be especially abrasive, then soften as time went on (with Colin Baker having to do this through Big Finish audio plays rather than on telly). A significant difference between Twelve and Ten, though, is that Twelve questions himself more. Ten, to the very end, seems to believe his own hype.

The Tenth Doctor’s duality is apparent from his first full appearance in 2005’s ‘The Christmas Invasion’. Having quoted The Lion King and fearlessly ambled through the Sycorax ship in a dressing gown, he seems the picture of bonhomie, that lighter and amiable character shining through. Then he kills their leader. True, it was in self-defence, but it was lethal force that may not have been necessary. Then he immediately topples the British Prime Minister for a not dissimilar act of aggression. Immediately we see the Tenth Doctor’s potential for violence and moral grey areas. He’s still the same man who considered braining someone with a rock in ‘An Unearthly Child’.

Teamed with Rose Tyler, a companion of similar status to Tennant’s Doctor, they blazed their way through time and space with a level of confidence that bordered on entitlement, and a love that manifested itself negatively on the people surrounding them. The most obvious example in Series 2 is ‘Tooth and Claw’, where Russell T. Davies has them react to horror and carnage in the manner of excited tourists who’ve just seen a celebrity. This aloof detachment results in Queen Victoria establishing the Torchwood institute that will eventually split them apart. We see their blinkers on again in ‘Rise of the Cybermen’, when they take Mickey for granted. Rose and the Doctor skip along the dividing line between romance and hubris.

Then, in a Christmassy romp where the Doctor is grieving the loss of Rose, he commits genocide and Donna Noble sucker punches him with ‘I think you need somebody to stop you’. Well-meaning as this statement is, the Doctor treats it as a reason to reduce his next companion to a function rather than a person. Martha Jones is there to stop the Doctor, as far as he’s concerned. She’s a rebound companion. Martha is in love with him, and though he respects her, she’s also something of a prop.

This is the series in which the Doctor becomes human in order to escape the Family of Blood (adapted from a book in which he becomes human in order to understand his companion’s grief, not realising anyone is after him), and is culpable for all the death that follows in his wake. Martha puts up with a position as a servant and with regular racist abuse on her travels with this man, before finally realising at the end of the series that she needs to get out of the relationship. For a rebound companion, Martha withstands a hell of a lot, mostly caused by the Doctor’s failings.

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Series 4 develops the Doctor further, putting the Tenth’s Doctor’s flaws in the foreground more clearly. Donna is now travelling with him, and simply calls him out on his behaviour more than Rose or Martha did. Nonetheless the Doctor ploughs on, and in ‘Midnight’ we see him reduced to desperate and ugly pleas about how clever he is when he’s put in a situation he can’t talk himself out of.

Rose has also become more Doctor-like while trapped in another reality, and brutally tells Donna that she’s going to have to die in order to return to the original timeline (just as the Doctor tells Donna she’s going to have to lose her memories of travelling with him in order to live her previous life, even as she clearly asks him not to – and how long did the Doctor know he would have to do this for? It’s not like he’s surprised when Donna starts glitching). Tied into this is the Doctor’s belief in his own legend. In ‘The Doctor’s Daughter’ he holds a gun to Cobb’s head, then withdraws it and asks that they start a society based on the morals of his actions. You know, like a well-adjusted person does.

What’s interesting here is that despite presenting himself as ‘a man who never would’, the Doctor is a man who absolutely would. We’ve seen him do it. Even the Tenth Doctor, so keen to live up to the absolute moral ideals he espouses, killed the Sycorax leader and the Krillitanes, drove the Cybermen to die of despair, brought the Family of Blood to a quiet village and then disposed of them personally. But Tennant doesn’t play this as a useful lie, he plays it as something the Doctor absolutely believes in that moment, that he is a man who would not kill even as his daughter lies dead. It’s why his picking up a gun in ‘The End of Time’ has such impact. And it makes some sense that the Tenth Doctor would reject violence following a predecessor who regenerated after refusing to commit another double-genocide.

In the series finale ‘Journey’s End‘, Davros accuses the Doctor of turning his friends into weapons. This is because the Doctor’s friends have used weapons against the Daleks who – and I can’t stress this enough – are about to kill everyone in the entire universe. Fighting back against them seems pretty rational. Also – and again I can’t stress this enough – the Daleks are bad. Like, really bad. You won’t believe just how mindbogglingly bad they are. The Doctor has tried to destroy them several times by this point. Here, there isn’t the complication of double-genocide, and instead the very real threat of absolutely everyone in the universe dying. This accusation, that the Doctor turns people into weapons, should absolutely not land.

And yet, with the Tenth Doctor, it does. This is a huge distinction between him and the First Doctor, who had to persuade pacifists to fight for him in ‘The Daleks’.

In ‘The Sontaran Strategem’ Martha compares the Doctor to fire. It’s so blunt it almost seems not worth saying, but it’s the perfect analogy (especially for a show where fire is a huge part of the very first story). Yes, fire shines in dark places, yes it can be a beacon, but despite it being very much fire’s entire deal, people can forget that it burns. And fire has that mythical connection of being stolen from the gods and brought to humanity. The Time Lord Victorious concept fits the Tenth Doctor so well. Of all the Doctors, he’s the most ready to believe in himself as a semi-mythic figure.

Even when regenerating there’s a balance between hero and legend: the Tenth Doctor does ultimately save Wilfred Mott, but only after pointing out passionately how big a sacrifice he’s making. And then he goes to get his reward by meeting all his friends, only to glare at them from a distance. His last words are ‘I don’t want to go’, which works well as clearly being a poignant moment for the actor as well, but in the context of Doctor Who as a whole it renders Ten anomalous: no one else went this unwillingly. And yet, in interviews Russell T. Davies said it was important to end the story with ‘the Doctor as people have loved him: funny, the bright spark, the hero, the enthusiast’.

It’s fascinating then, that this is the Doctor who has been taken to heart by so many viewers because there’s such an extreme contrast between his good-natured front, his stated beliefs, and his actions. He clearly loves Rose and Donna, but leaves them with a compromised version of happiness. They go on extraordinary journeys only to end up somewhere that leaves them less than who they want to be, with Russell T. Davies being more brutally honest than Steven Moffat, who nearly always goes the romance route. Davies once said to Mark Lawson that he liked writing happy endings ‘because in the real world they don’t exist’, but his endings tend towards the bittersweet: Mickey and Martha end up together but this feels like they’re leftovers from the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. The Tenth Doctor doesn’t, as Nine does, go with a smile, but holding back tears.

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It’s a testament to how well written the Tenth Doctor is that the character has this light and shade, and with David Tennant’s immense likeability he can appeal to a wider audience as a result. It’s not surprise he wins all these polls, but I can’t help but feel that if the Doctor arrived and invited me on board the TARDIS, I’d want it to be anyone but Ten.

The post Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor appeared first on Den of Geek.

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huntergatherercreator · 3 years

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The Takedown | Part Sixteen

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader

Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.

Warnings: Some slight sexual content

Part 16 – 1,318 words

He leaned against the sink. Fingers clenching and unclenching against the cool porcelain. He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more. The fact she’d got the upper hand over him, again, or that he'd enjoyed it. He needed to get it together. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by how good she'd looked straddling him.

Straightening he pushed both hands through his hair roughly. Glaring at his reflection he sighed before adjusting the front of his jeans, hiding his lingering excitement.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered to his reflection. He hated the situation he’d found himself in. Taking out Rivera was supposed to be easy. Everything he’d done since Arnold fucked him over had gone wrong. Now he only had six days to fix his mistakes before he lost the reins to the city completely. He needed to be focused on finishing what he started. With another dark look at himself he returned to the kitchen.

The sound of barely suppressed laughter had him prickling. Rounding into the kitchenette his eyes went right to her. She had a hand over her mouth trying to hold back another laugh as she smiled at Joe. A flare of jealousy had him pausing in the doorway. Shoving his hands into his pockets to hide his fists he threw a level look at Joe. Instantly he straightened from his perch against the counter, expression sobering. He felt a stab of guilt. Joe was a good man. One of his best. Lifting his designated coffee cup he stalked to the window.

“Would you like me to do another perimeter sweep, boss?” Joe asked after clearing his throat. He nodded, not trusting his voice to come out as anything other than a snarl.

“Save me one of those sandwiches, I won’t be long,” Joe requested. Tom turned in time to see Joe wink at her. A buzzing stared in his ears. He channelled all his energy into not crushing his coffee cup. Fixing his gaze out of the window he took measured breaths. The click of the door closing rang out in the quiet of the room.

After a beat of silence she stood to offer him a wrapped sandwich. “I meant it when I said I can take over from here. If you’re not hungry I can make up the couch or you can take the bed if that’s easier.”

He threw a her a side long look. She was still holding breakfast out to him. Her open expression made it clear she had no idea the things he’d thought about doing in that bed. In his bed. On the kitchen table. He’d watched her work all night as his mind wandered to it’s darkest depths. Determined to work her out of his system any way he could he’d suffered through it. Especially after ‘the incident’. He refused to call it a kiss. Feeling his cock twitch against the waistband of his jeans he knew all he’d succeeded in doing was torture himself. Being alone with her wasn’t going to end well. He cursed himself for sending away Joe. He had to get out of the apartment.

“I have to get to the office.” Her eyebrows rose at his statement. “What?” he barked. Her judgment wasn’t something he’d expected to bother him.

“Nothing. I’m just thinking how much more efficient this would have been if we’d had faster internet and a second computer.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. The dark part of him instantly started questioning just how sturdy his desk was. “You’re not coming with me.”

“It was worth a shot,” she shrugged with a faint smile. Settling back at the table she cradled her coffee.

“If you need anything ask Joe. He’ll be back soon.”

“Wait, you’re leaving Joe here? Don’t you need him?”

“I thought you wanted him here.” The words were laced with a hint of the jealousy he’d felt earlier and he hated himself for it.

“I want his information, but not at the cost of you being unprotected.” He watched her grab her notebook from the counter. A flicker of pain had her frowning. She rubbed absently at her arm before tearing out a section of the paper she’d written on. The dent to his pride gained after she made the kill shot against his attacker lessened as guilt pricked at him. She had risked her life for him. She had the scar to prove it. Not many of his own men could say the same.

Holding it out to him she said, “Call me with the information later.”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts he tucked the paper into his back pocket.

“How’s your arm?” he asked using the excuse of removing the lid from his drink to keep his eyes down.

“It’s fine,” she said after a pause. He didn’t need to analyse her to know that was a lie.

“It better be.” He took a long sip of coffee before meeting her gaze. Her expression was the one seared into his mind. The hard set of her jaw, lips pressed firmly, eyes critically assessing him. After being around men who regarded him either warily or with blatant fear it was refreshing. He enjoyed seeing it. He enjoyed being the one who caused it.

The door opening broke her stare as she glanced over his shoulder. The way her face relaxed had his shoulders tightening. Capping his coffee, he collected his jacket and strode to the door with a curt nod to Joe. He didn’t wait for him to catch up.

*Detective POV*

With a surprised look we both watched Holland stride out of the apartment. Grabbing a sandwich I tossed it at Joe.

“We need a list of the men that Rivera might be hiding investments under. Holland has my number to call me later with the details.”

Joe nodded, eyes distant for a second. “I’ll see what I can find out for you.” A small smile and he was swiftly darting into the hallway to catch his boss.

I sank down at the kitchen table and rubbed at my arm again. As blunt as he’d been he was right, I needed my arm to be in the best shape it could be. It had been healing steadily but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. It was still a weak spot and one that could be easily exploited if we got caught nosing around the lions den. I didn’t want to have to ask for help, especially not from him, but there was no safe way to get my wound treated at the hospital without it being reported. Zoey may know someone who would help but I wasn’t convinced she’d go out of her way to help me yet. Not after everything that happened in the bar.

Picking up my pen I scribbled down the five names that were rumoured to be associated with Rivera. Staring at them I knew I could start working on tracing them myself but if something did come up and Joe’s list didn’t contain them it’d be hard to find an explanation Holland would believe. Tapping against the paper I frowned. I’d clearly gained his trust, or something along those lines, for him to relent control over the investigation but for how long? His moods were mercurial, the bouts of anger and frustration so hard to predict. He needed sleep, or possibly something stronger to force him to relax. Not that his stress wasn’t justified. What he was attempting to do, what we were, was a long shot. I’d worked closely with the detective who headed the Rivera taskforce. They’d had about as much luck of tracking him down as my team had with Holland. I blinked, the sudden realisation of the situation I was in resurfacing. I had the very slim, but real, chance of taking them both down. I knew I had to prepare for every eventuality.

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

Taglist:

@spideylovin @lukesbabylon @panicattheeverywherekid @keep-bears-wild @unbelievableholland @tomholland-mcu @whattheheckparker @stargazerholland @gorillaglue23 @marvelpeters @weirdowithnobeardo

Part 17!

#Mob!Tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland

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suworkbook · 3 years

Photo

Hi guys, it’s time for that part of the liveblog where I attempt to find meaning in a series of random, unconnected images. (Some people might say I’m just looking for excuses to post this picture as much as possible. And to those people I say: shut up, let me live my life.)

This episode is doing some interesting stuff with positions. It’s locked in to Greg’s viewpoint - the camera bobs with him, zooming around the screen depending on what Greg is looking at - it darts up and down between Marty and Vidalia, between Rose and Amethyst, around the stage when Greg is looking for people... Greg and the camera are nearly always one. There’s only three points where we can’t be in Greg’s physical point of view: The imaginary music video, the first shot of Rose, and the last shot of Rose.

So Greg starts his story on a stage, above his audience, and daydreams about going even further, ascending into space and soaring through the stars before imagining that he’s going to finish by crashing dramatically. But when we pull back to reality, there’s no audience, and even his manager has vanished. Where Greg is at this point in his life, there’s no one there to look down on.

In fact, Greg must have a permanent crick in his neck during this story as he’s looking up at nearly everyone he meets - Marty is always towering above him in the first act, but so are the Gems. Owlmethyst is literally a bird, Pearl first turns up on the warp pad up on a platform, and Garnet is Garnet. Greg has to hike over a fence and up a hill to find the Gems, and just when it looks like he might be on equal footing with them, he falls over. And just to drive it home, Rose literally floats above all of them at one point.

The first time Rose shows up, we get that image above, of her Gem and chest. It can’t be Greg’s POV, because he’s just too far away on the stage. But as we see later, this is what Greg sees when he looks at Rose up close and straight on. The only other explanation I can think of is that this isn’t an ‘objective’ recreation of events, but Greg’s memory: this is the moment he’s speaking his dead wife back to life. It’s his sensory impression of what it was like being close to her. Because the Rose who shared Greg’s life was bigger than that tiny dot looking at him from the back of the audience. She overwhelmed everything.

And then we zoom back into Greg’s perspective. As she gets closer, the audience’s eyeline is level to her gem, but Greg is always looking up at her face, because Greg chugs a litre of respect women juice a day.

Greg’s first big moment in the story comes when he finally stands up for himself emotionally and physically. After nine minutes of physically placing himself below Marty, he stands tall enough to tower over him. His second big moment comes when he doesn’t climb or stoop, he just drives dead on through the fence that separates him from what he wants (and straight into our hearts).

And in the final scene, he climbs on the warp pad and treats it like a stage. We’re the ones looking up at him in that moment as Greg sings about how we should leave everything to him. Greg tells us to close our eyes, and he does so himself, but as he grows more uncertain and questioning, he he hops back down to the floor, gazing up at the temple’s mysteries. And then he falls to his knees, begging to know ‘what are you doing to me?’ You could argue this is where his comet ‘soars’ and ‘crashes’, if you’re inclined to try and make every single thing into a meaningful artistic statement.

But then he stands again. In the end, Greg is still looking up at Rose - which, to be fair, is exactly how he likes it. But our final shot of her is at head height, looking straight into her eyes as Greg wins her over. This is the third time the camera assumes this metaphorical perspective, and I think it’s because Greg is, to quote another admirer of giant women, only looking up to her in a literal sense. This is the moment where they start on their journey to becoming true equals.

Anyway, that’s my final self-indulgent ramble about this episode. Until next time, guys!

#steven universe #su liveblog #su0148

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Rumor Has It {Epilogue}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff,

Words: 2.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

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

If the public ripped Chris a new asshole when the odds seemed ever not in his favor, they massacred Ana once the facts were revealed. When it came out just how low Ana had gone in her efforts to get your husband, the world turned into a colder place. The tabloids ran endless pieces on what a horrible person she was. They were relentless when it came to nitpicking not just her behavior and actions, but they even went in on her acting. You could have said you felt bad for her, but you didn’t. Not one bit.

The support that came out for you and Chris was heartwarming. Everyone seemed to want to wrap the two of you in a cocoon of support and love. You received well-wishes from fans and supporters, and even celebs sent floral arrangements, all expressing their support for you. The narrative that was spun was the diabolical plot of Ana and jilted ex Christiano who concocted a plot that was to end with Ana getting Chris and Christiano kidnapping you. Most of the details were released to the press, though you and Chris had both tried to keep as much of it under wraps as possible. Neither one of you wanted to continue dealing with it. You just wanted to move forward and focus on better things—happier things.

Because Christiano had broken into your home and attempted to cause harm to its residents, Chris’s actions were seen as self-defense, and Chrisnao’s death ruled an accidental result of self-defense. Though the White family were distraught once they were faced with the severity of Christiano’s actions and continued plans, they didn’t have the heart to put you through any further trauma. You’d suspected it was Christina’s doing, and a floral arrangement from her a few weeks after the incident proved your suspicions.

You’d been friends with her first, and it was a friendship that survived the end of your relationship with Christiano. This was her way of letting it be known that her brother did wrong. A month after the incident, her statement shed light on Christiano’s mental health and revealed he’d been struggling for several years since the break-up. She made no apologies for his actions and didn’t try to make him seem like a victim. She was adamant about letting the full truth be seen. She did offer an apology to you, Chris, your families, and your children.

For her part in the plot, her actions of physically trying to kill you, not knowing you pregnant at the time, was what sealed Ana’s fate. She was sentenced to jail, and it wasn’t entirely the sentence of a privileged woman. It was one of a criminal who showed no remorse for their actions. She was given nine years behind bars, and because she was living and working in the US on a visa rather than citizenship, after the completion of her sentence, she would be deported to Spain.

Even film studios were distancing themselves from her at record speed. All the roles she had been considered for quickly changed their views and voiced wanting you to have the roles. It was sort of poetic to you. She hated you because you were black, and you didn’t deserve all you had, including your career and husband. In the end, she was the absolute furthest from your husband, and now everything that was hers would be yours.

You and Chris were on a flight to Massachusetts two days after the incident. Neither of you were suspects; there was no reason for you to remain in LA, so you quietly packed up what you wanted and made arrangements to pack up the house for the foreseeable future, then went where both of you felt like you belonged. You left any details about your career plans to your manager to close. Everyone seemed to understand the want you had to step back from work and Hollywood, especially when the news was out that you were going to be parents.

That was the only thing Chris seemed to care about. He was on a mission to keep you comfortable, happy, and taken care of. From the minute he carried you over the threshold of the home he’d built for you, it felt like a fresh start, a new beginning meant just for the five of you.

He was there beside you every morning, patting your back as you vomited because of your morning sickness until you were four and a half months along. He was there for every single appointment. He read every book you did to prepare for the remainder of your pregnancy and life with twins. He was there preparing you lunch every afternoon, there massaging your feet and back at the end of every night. He was there to lather on the cocoa and shea butter to your growing belly. He was there to compliment every stretch mark you received because of your quickly stretching skin. He was there to kiss each of them while telling you how much he loved each and every tiger stripe, as he called them. He was even there for you when none of your clothes fit you, and he offered you all his cable-knit sweaters, hoodies, sweatpants, and button-downs.

When your belly became so big you couldn’t see your feet; he put your shoes on for you. When you couldn’t get up without looking like a beached whale, Chris was there to carry you wherever you wanted to go. There rarely went an hour that went by where he didn’t strip you to worship your body as if you were his scripture, and he worshiped you and you alone. Not a day passed where you didn’t feel loved, desired, and protected.

Through it all, you decided that therapy was beneficial and a powerful enough tool to bring you back together that you wanted to continue. Dr. Danquah was thrilled having the two of you as clients again and, because of your progress, saw no need for you to see her more than twice a month to keep the lines of communication and the roots of love and passion ever strong. The love you felt for Chris and the connection you felt to each other only deepened throughout your pregnancy.

Just when you thought you couldn’t love him anymore, he did something to prove you wrong. Every day you found something more to love. If it wasn’t his fun-loving nature that was on display every time he played with Dodger, it was his outdoorsy adventurism with the way he bounded from the bed once the sun rose to drag you on another of his nature walks so he could photograph the trees or the hills. If it wasn’t his romantic side with how he prepared candlelit baths every night that posed as a prequel to dinner by candlelight and the most passionate session of lovemaking, it was his undercover, not so undercover freak antics with him wanting to christen every single room in the house and a few spots outdoors with your lovemaking. At nights when he thought you were sleeping, you heard him talking to the babies as he caressed your stomach. That was what you loved most. His sheer love, devotion, and adoration for his children and the strong protector that resided in him. he was the only one for you.

“Push Riah.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to push. You push!”

Chris snorted, and you wanted to kill him. His hands rubbed your belly before he kissed your jaw from his position behind you in the tub in your bathroom.

“I can push with you, but you have the babies in you. You have to show them the way.”

You groaned, and it echoed in the hallowed bathroom.

“You can do this, Uriah,” Lisa encouraged, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze.

You looked across to your mother, who nodded, hoping to steel your nerve. Chris kissed your ear.

“Come on, dragonfly. You got this. Bring our babies into the world so we can spoil them.”

And you can change all the poop diapers?”

Chris snorted again. “I don’t recall making any such promise.”

You squeezed his hand with everything you had. He groaned and hissed from the pain.

“Ah, ah, wow. Okay, I see my error. Yes, all poop diapers that you don’t want.” You released his hand, letting him relax somewhat.

“Use that, baby. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts, and I’m sorry.”

“This is your fault,” you pointedly accused.

“Yes. My fault. I take full blame. I’m sorry.”

“You owe me so big for this, Evans.”

He nodded, agreeing with you. that was when the pain intensified at levels that made you regret choosing a natural birth at home.

“Oh fuckity, fuck. So big, Evans!”

“You’re crowning. Do you want to come over here and catch your baby, dad?”

Chris moved from behind you and got into position between your legs. His eyes widened, clearly seeing the baby’s head. The excitement around you was palpable, and it gave you a burst of energy to get the baby out. You grabbed your knees, hunkered down, and pushed because whether you were supposed to or not. Your scream was loud, and the screams of those around you picked up. They shouted to you, encouraging you to keep going and not to stop. The look on Chris's face suddenly changed, and you saw the tears in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Riah, I can—I can see—oh baby, I can see a face. come on, Dragonfly, one more push.”

You screeched out and fought through the intense burning you felt, and in seconds the crying of a baby echoed in the bathroom.

“Aah, oh my god, Riah, it’s a girl. She’s here,” Chris elated as tears rolled down his cheeks.

You smiled widely as Chris held your daughter and cut her umbilical cord before he placed her on your chest.

“Oh my god!”

She was perfect, with a full head of hair that was the color of Chris’s and cheeks so plump you were tempted to pinch them. You only had a moment to place a kiss on her forehead before you felt another stab of pain that made you shout again. The second midwife took the baby from you so you could focus on pushing out her sister.

“She’s right there, Uriah. You’re doing incredible, baby,” your mother informed.

“I’m thinking three good pushes, Uriah. When you feel the urge, push.

You instantly felt the urge to push and returned to your previous position and pushed as hard as you could. This push was just as painful as the first one, but you felt this push accomplished more.

“Good push, her head is out. One more, and she’ll be out,” your first midwife said.

The look on everyone's face was one of anxiety and excitement. The sounds of your first daughter’s cries had died down, and the only thing that could be heard in the room was your panting, screeching, and grunting.

“Fuuuuuck!”

You managed to push your daughter out, and her cries filled the bathroom. Soon, it was not one baby crying but both of them.

“You did it!”

Lisa and your mother both kissed your cheeks and forehead, happily congratulating you and telling you how well you’d done while the midwives cleaned the babies to bring them to you. When Chris came up beside you, your mothers backed away, giving you a few moments together. Chris kissed your forehead.

“You’re incredible. You did so good, dragonfly. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you once, then twice, and nuzzled his nose against yours.

“I love you so much.”

“Did someone order two perfect babies?”

The midwives placed your daughters in your arms.

“This is baby A; she was born first and her sister.”

Your tears flowed freely as so much emotion filled you. Love in it’s purest form washed over you.

“Chris. They’re beautiful.”

“Of course they are. They look just like you,” Chris said, kissing your temple.

A comfortable silence fell between you as you admired your newborn daughters.

“Any decision on names?”

You smiled and ran your thumb across the baby’s brow in your arm.

“Yeah. How do you feel about Nova and Rae?”

Chris’s face lit up as his smile spread so wide that you wondered if his face would split in two.

“I love them. Nova and Rae Evans,” he uttered. You nodded and couldn’t help but choke up, seeing the emotion on his face.

“Chasing dragonflies,” he whispered the meanings of the names you’d discussed weeks ago before his lips met yours for a tender kiss.

With his forehead pressed to yours, he whispered again. “Rumor has it you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You smiled and looked at him before pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. “Rumor has it you’re a DILF.”

Chris laughed so loud it startled your babies, making them stir and cry. You joined in laughing with him, unable to keep your sublime happiness under wraps any longer.

“Rumor has it you two will have siblings in record time,” Lisa said slightly above a whisper.

Everyone in the room laughed, not knowing how true those were most likely were. You and Chris gazed at each other with longing and love in your eyes. When Chris kissed you again, this time taking his time to do it properly, completely and heartily, you knew his mother’s words would be the truest spoken.

The End!!!!!

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

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @a-dizzle777 @taylorveebee @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97 @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @lo-cheu @builtalongthewaysi @momobaby227@drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish

@thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @queenbetter @ilovehatembj @briellableu @zaddysqueen7 @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr @ashanti-notthesinger @chezdricks @euh-say-what-now @afraiddreamingandloving @ajspencer1892 @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @songtoyou @designerwriterchic @firedolphin04 @academic-glowup @periodtcevans @nova3312 @naturalthrone22 @squeackygeecapslut2014 @queen-audsalena

@unknownmystery22 @thatcrazymarvelfan @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @fanfictionaffair @kemkem101 @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @blackgurlkillinit @simply-heaven @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @renfrewscorner @choices97 @phreshouttherunwaaayy @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @queensevansackles @rosey1981 @laketaj24 @munteanhore @minton131 @trillistb @night-of-the-living-shred @chrisevansfanfic @scoop93535 @miss-jackson500 @purplehairgawdess @ollieveracity @maddeningmayhem @what-is-your-plan-today @tantricevans @evermcfearless @richonne4life @dumbchick @toni9 @briellableu @amennariee @rynabarnesrogers-reading @chrissbabybunny @brwnsugababe @queenshikongo3 @sadishdelray @what-is-your-plan-today @islanddgal @reignandrain @liquorlaughslove @thefuckingluxury @surmya1907 @maeleeme @queenoftheworldisdead @coolbakeryprunetoad @naturalthrone22 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @starlite-starbrite @offrostandstarlight @zeedaye @partypoison00 @thejeneralvicinity @littlepreciousangel @doublesidedscoobysnacks

@imthatbitchsworld @soul–notforsale @toni9 @someone-really-bored @venustrap04 @chrisevansdaddycap @kittykatlow @live-laugh-love-ki @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @fistmetonystark @livinglifeformemyselfandi @crowngold @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @lost- ssoull @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @shar74nett @cltex84 @badbitchhtown @petty-bitch-akira @unknownmystery22 @raveviolet @madixii @almosttherebutnot @rainbowkisses31 @smediumsmeatbae @bernie-k @nina1800 @nervousninjatheorist @lo-cheu @creole-mami @acciolove724 @shipatheart @captainchrisstan @ramp-it-up @bforbbgirl @brownskinafro @jhayes6984 @badbo1-evans @msblkfire84 @jovanaprime @poshgirl2 @marvelatthis30 @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @alookintohersoul @cleopatra-knowles @xsweetdellzx @cxmfort @i-just-like-fanfics @storiestoldbyjazz @jennmurawski13 @imthewarmpenguininthemiddle @ak329

@koko-michelle @sophiasotherdaughter @maeleeme @mauvecherie @jbrizzywrites

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. Please check that you are taggable. I’m sorry.***

#rumor has it fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black ofc #black fanfiction #chris evans x ofc uriah

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters.

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it.

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side.

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.”

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.”

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing.

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes.

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications.

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids).

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed.

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?”

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home.

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much.

The problem is: he only stares at you that way.

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much.

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs.

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him.

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves.

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low.

Second side note: no one ever listens.

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully.

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break.

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist.

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?”

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically.

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset.

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic.

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine.

“You need me, we’re connected.”

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle.

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly.

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook.

three.

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions.

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months.

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily.

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day.

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being.

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners.

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?”

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified.

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior.

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again.

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin.

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head.

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while.

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you.

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that.

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now.

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night.

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape.

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.”

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner.

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth.

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two.

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way.

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.”

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him.

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated.

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class.

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down.

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above.

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face.

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy.

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride.

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks.

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters.

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that.

five.

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know.

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people.

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes.

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!”

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy.

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction.

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again.

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation.

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around.

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.”

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile.

Oh, I’m fucking livid.

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester.

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor.

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes.

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea.

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast.

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin.

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid.

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

“AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.”

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago.

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one.

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain.

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg.

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?”

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically.

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do.

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty.

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath.

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..”

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops.

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person.

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders.

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her.

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors.

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?”

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all.

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead.

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already.

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard.

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain.

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite.

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school.

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner.

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?”

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off.

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent.

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest.

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!”

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things.

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage.

Felix doesn’t even drink.

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out.

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically.

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice.

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously.

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively.

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water.

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now.

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain.

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you.

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head.

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate.

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing.

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice.

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended.

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear.

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall.

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned.

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically.

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately.

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning.

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?”

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever.

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while.

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic.

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all.

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow.

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call.

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend.

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home.

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everythingsinred · 3 years

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Let's Talk About Natsumikan: Natsume (pt. 3)

Previously, we started talking about Natsume, how cold he is, and his mannerisms. If you want, you can think of this next segment as the final analysis for this stretch of plot where Natsume is being fully introduced and his behaviors explored. After this one, things will start to get really interesting!

TW for bullying, suicidal ideation, depression, mental illness, and child abuse. Almost all of my essays will be heavily focused on one or all of these themes so if these topics are triggering to you, it might be best to not read.

Chapter Nine

We went crazy analyzing the episode counterpart in the anime, going over the dodgeball game and all of its consequences regarding Natsume’s feelings for Mikan. The manga has just as much to analyze regarding Natsume, but very little of it is as pleasant!

In the manga, Natsume does not start falling for Mikan here. There is no beautiful scene where she confesses this was all done to make him smile. There is no pretend peace for Natsume at the end of the episode where he and Ruka muse about the game.

No, this is worse.

The beginning concept is more or less the same, but with significantly less emphasis on Natsume individually. In fact, Tsubasa tells Mikan Natsume isn’t solely to blame for the chaos in Class B--that they all need a way to let out their feelings and start having fun instead.

Natsume ends up sucked into the game against his will. He does not feel like playing, but he goes along with it when the bet is made--that is, if Mikan loses, she and her team need to be servants forever, but if she wins the other team has to quit their bullying of Substitute-sensei forever. There is no focus on Natsume ditching, or even on Natsume at all. Really Natsume only gets into it when he sees Ruka has been roped into joining Mikan’s team by accident. Natsume despises Mikan and, considering that Ruka has been kidnapped by her before, is not any happier to see him in Mikan’s custody again. He hits her in the head with the ball on purpose, knowing it would be out of bounds, because he wants to hurt her more than he wants to get her out of the game.

From Natsume's perspective, it does seem like she's trying to push his buttons on purpose lmao.

Natsume’s team has way more players, but because they’re afraid to hit Ruka on accident and face Natsume’s wrath, and because they are too crowded on their side, they have some obstacles. Sumire attempts to salvage this through good old fashioned cheating. Whether Natsume is privy to this seems unimportant. He doesn’t care about winning or losing either way, and doesn’t seem like he’s actively bullying the teacher to begin with like the others are. Now he’s just playing against Mikan for stealing Ruka away.

Compared to the anime’s version, the manga’s counterpart might seem anticlimactic, or less fun. But the truth is that the dodgeball game in the manga was never about befriending Natsume. Mikan never considered that because she despises him, maybe the same amount that he hates her. Creating a friendship is the last thing on either of their minds. This chapter is about Mikan finally feeling more at place in Class B as a whole, rather than winning over Natsume.

This chapter carries weight for him on an entirely different level. Natsume might have gotten himself involved with the game, and might have even had a bit of fun, but that was never going to last.

Natsume's life vs. Class B's life. Shadows vs. Shinies!

Natsume goes to get a drink of water after the game, where he encounters Persona, who tells him he has a mission. Right after this, we have a panel of the kids of Class B wondering what they should play next. This is the most obvious visual we will get of the jarring divide between Natsume’s life and that of the rest of Class B. Even Ruka seems to fit in with the other kids, despite trying to align himself more with his best friend. Natsume truly will never be like them, even if he does let himself have fun. He will always have to stop, put away the game, and don his mask for his missions. He can’t be a child like they can; his life is too dark.

In the anime, Persona is hidden in a tree but does not confront Natsume. If anything, he is a mere shadow looming over Natsume, threatening to bring darkness on Natsume’s newfound sunshine. In the manga, Persona’s presence is more potent.

The other children can laugh and play games and the biggest worry they have is what they will play next time. For Natsume, he will never belong with the rest of them, no matter how much they might admire him. Persona is just a reminder that Natsume isn’t like the rest of them.

Chapter Ten

Natsume is in a sour mood from the mission he recently went on, and Iinchou confirms this by saying he’s been grumpy since the dodgeball game. I talked about other reasons he may have been angry in the anime but in the manga it’s indisputable that Persona is the cause.

Thus, he has no qualms telling Mikan how it is: that her grandpa isn’t receiving the letters because they aren’t being sent, and that the teachers can’t be trusted. All of the things Ruka told her before are now coming from the horse’s mouth: this school is a prison. And again he reiterates: he and Mikan are marked, and more than anybody else, they’re treated differently from the rest of the kids. He is, after all, even more isolated from his loved ones than the rest are. On New Years, when everyone gets some letters and cards from loved ones, Natsume is the only one who’s not allowed anything. For him to imagine that there’s a kind-hearted teacher willing to send a letter or two is simply not even worth his time.

Okay but. Like. Nobody asked you, though.

It’s hard to say for sure why Natsume decided to tell Mikan this (other than to plant the seed of doubt in Mikan’s head story-wise). It’s possible that he wanted to help her, but keep in mind that he still hates her at this point. It’s far more likely that he, after a period of missions and consequent depleted health, is not in the mood to tolerate her rose-colored lenses and is much more willing to destroy her idealism and say it like it is, to shut her up.

After all, his threat from the Northern Woods is still relevant: he truly thinks that she will come to regret enrolling at the academy. If nothing else has worked to dampen her spirits, maybe the realization that she has been lied to will do the trick. He's just helping that epiphany along.

Chapter Eleven

The school festival is approaching and Mikan is dead set on making friends with people she wouldn’t normally consider. Naturally, this means trying with Natsume, who burns her hair and tells her to piss off.

Comparing the manga to the anime with this particular chapter is fascinating. In the anime, Natsume has already started liking Mikan. He helps her come up with ideas for her class to do and even encourages her to make up with her senpais when they have an argument. She starts understanding his unique type of kindness and appreciating his presence. It’s a cute episode where they can relate to each other and bond.

In the manga, they still hate each other. Mikan only approaches him because of Narumi’s advice, and because he doesn’t care, Natsume doesn’t mind burning her hair to get her away from him. He is in a sour mood because he can’t participate, made clear when Seaweed-head, Sumire’s brother, makes an appearance. He taunts both Mikan and Natsume for their lame ability classes, particularly the dangerous ability class, because they’re not even allowed to enter the festival. He makes a comment, something along the lines of them being “perfect partners” as a result (exhibit who’s-even-keeping-count-anymore of them being paired off before they even like each other). Natsume burns his hair too and calls him “fried seaweed”, playing off of Mikan’s insult for him.

You can't see his eyes in these panels, and then he walks off, so it's almost easy to fall for the idea that he couldn't care less... but we know better.

Mikan later runs into him again, and this is where there is some consistency. In the anime, they are both clearly outcasts regarding the festival. Everyone expects the worst from the special ability class, and the dangerous ability class isn’t even allowed to enter the competitions. In the manga, the same things are true, and they are both aware of this.

Mikan, shocked at seeing him again, drops all her papers. She’s expecting him to insult her or use his alice again, on account of him being a “hateful person”, but Natsume does no such thing. They’re the only ones who would truly get it, being left out, so Natsume says instead that he doesn’t get what all the hype is about. Such a big fuss over nothing. Pathetic, even. He picks up her papers for her, though he doesn’t have to move much to do so. They stand in silence for a moment.

I mean... he didn't have to pick up her papers for her.

Perhaps his hatred for her is actually cooling. She is struggling through similar things as he is, and there’s room for bonding between them, even if neither of them particularly wants to. Whatever the reason, Natsume is choosing to just talk to her instead of insulting or teasing her here. Moreover, the way he says all this, so transparently, as if he wouldn’t have found the festival interesting even if he could participate, is something she can see through. You can imagine Mochu or Sumire nodding in agreement with his statement, maybe even pretending they thought so too this whole time, rather than connecting the dots as Mikan does. Natsume has a similar viewpoint on many things, things that are “all hype over nothing”, in his opinion, like the festival or even kissing that he actually does want to do.

If Natsume can't participate, then Ruka won't either...

At the end of the chapter, Ruka comes to hang out with Natsume, choosing time with his best friend over meetings about the festival. He knows better than anyone probably how Natsume feels, being left out. Ruka will always choose Natsume over everything else, as he always has done, and keeping him company so he doesn’t feel lonely is an easy thing to sacrifice. It is his way of keeping his promise that he will make sure Natsume doesn't feel alone at the academy.

Chapter Twelve

Yet another chapter where the plots diverge from the anime’s version of events, Chapter Twelve is our trip to Central Town. Just like in the anime, Natsume is Mikan’s one condition to go to Central Town, and he is only convinced by Youichi.

It would have been nice to see the time Natsume and Yo-chan first met, and how Natsume became so close to him since he doesn't seem fond of any other dangerous ability types.

It’s nice knowing that Natsume has people he loves even at the academy, other than Ruka, and things that can make him smile, if even for a brief moment. Youichi looks up to Natsume and Natsume acts like a protective big brother, which is something he’s had past experience with, as revealed in this chapter.

Once in Central Town, Natsume lingers by a jewelry story, where he sees a hair-clip that reminds him of Aoi. It’s something that would suit her, but he can’t get it for her. The reader can see that Natsume is a brother, and that his mystery sister is part of his tragic backstory (oh, to see Aoi animated ;-;). Mikan naturally misunderstands this and then Natsume is absent from the rest of the chapter. It’s almost like he was trying to prove the point that his presence could hardly be felt and wouldn’t make a difference in her trip, something she was distressed about.

Yeah, so Natsume hasn't seen his sister in two years and doesn't know if she's even safe. For people with close sibling relationships, this is like. the definition of hell.

In the anime, Mikan includes him by giving him some howalon, but in the manga no such exchange occurs. He spends this trip mostly on his own, not even with Ruka or Youichi.

I wonder if the hair-clip was upsetting to him to the extent that he wanted the time to himself, or if it was a more general feeling of not being able to fit in anyway so why even bother, similar to the dodgeball chapter. Either way, he stays gone, and that’s fine. We’ll see plenty of him in the chapters to come.

Conclusion

This is the last edition of analyzing Natsume this way, where he has disdain for Mikan while maneuvering her cheerful little antics. In the next edition, we'll see a little of what Natsume's dark secret life looks like, the one that caused him to be like this. We'll also see a monumental shift in the way he views Mikan and then this will start looking a lot more like a ship essay heheheehhehe.

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#gakuen alice #alice academy #hyuuga natsume #natsume hyuuga #natsumikan #sakura mikan #mikan sakura #my meta #ga #mine #ga meta #ga meta: nm #ga meta: manga #ga meta: manga nm #let's talk about natsumikan #let's talk about natsumikan: natsume #the scene with the papers makes me smile so much #they are FATED. they are NARRATIVELY PAIRED. they are SOULMATES.

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Revenge.”

Getting into the meat of this arc now, I am having fun so I hope you all are :)

A thousand humans, perfectly straight in their orderly rows three feet to all sides. Looking down each row, it almost seemed as if no organic creatures should have been able to achieve it. In comparison, the rundi and Tesraki forces seemed scattered and confused, though the Drev and the Celzex had taken up the very human tradition.

The inside of the ship was dark.

The Rundi Imperial cruiser was large enough to hold an entire city inside its belly, but today it held soldiers. These soldiers were the first of their kind, or so the human said. Airborn shock troops from the UNSC 109th. Most of them were ex marines, who had been set on this new path after at least five years of prior service.

Overhead, the arching ceiling rose almost fifty feet into the air, and it seemed as if they couldn’t possibly be standing in a structure, especially one currently floating at the edge of IRus, waiting for the moment when they were to warp into existence over the burg planet, and drop their deadly cargo.

Not one of them moved an inch.

The human battalion commander Lieutenant Colonel Tyson stood eyeing his troops: the first of their kind, the best of the best, and likely heading to their death.

Did he feel bad about that: no. They knew what they were in for.

And they had volunteered.

He would give them one more chance to back out, but he already knew they wouldn’t. That's not how these guys worked. Though, it’s not like he was just throwing these men away, they had the best training in the galaxy, and that was a statement of fact, not just boasting. And then there was their secret weapon, an idea given to them a grounded marine.

Delta units.

A Drev, each of them monsters at over nine feet tall strapped with mobile machine guns manned by one of the shock troopers. Intelligence on the Burg home planet described it as mountainous, hilly, and riddled with caves. Their troops from above would be no use, and their vehicles wouldn’t be much better than decorative rocks when it came to that sort of terrain. Even the hovercraft wouldn’t be much use with how dence the rock and foliage was.

That is where these men came in, with their full body gear including gas masks, thermal vision, and advanced weaponry: advanced weaponry worked on by the Celzex themselves.

He smiled a little bit. Maybe he wasn’t sending them to their deaths.

Maybe he was sending them to glory.

The other alien commanders finally filtered in.

He stepped forward, and a call to attention rose through his troops. Heels snapped together, and hands shot up brushing their temples with one clattering echo. The aliens stepped back.

“At ease!” A hundred hands dropped.

He paced across the deck, “I know a lot of you have heard why you are here. I know you have heard a lot of bullshit, and despite what my commanders want me to say, I am going to be honest with you, “This isn’t about economics, or even about rightful retaliation.” He paused hands behind his back and glanced down at his men, “This is about REVENGE!” A shout rose up from his men.

“Revenge, for the burg war!”

Another shout.

“Revenge for their attack on earth!”

The room echoed.

“REVENGE for the good men and women lost!”

It was a roaring now.

“REVENGE!” He threw his fist in the air and waited for the screaming to die down before he finished, “Revenge, for Commander Vir.” He paused, “I didn’t know the man personally. I will openly admit that. And I am not pretending to make the tragedy of his passing a personal one because I am not. His passing is a tragedy to, humanity, to the GA, and to the universe.”

He paced down the line, “he wasn’t just a man, he was a symbol. The embodiment of what humanity should be and the lynch pin that held together our different species.”

He passed his eyes over the men and women standing before him, “I visited the memorial before coming here. I visited with my son. We lit a candle, and he left a stuffed bear to keep watch at the vigil for us. For those of you who haven't seen, it takes up an entire city block, thousands of candles, flowers pictures, toys notes, people singing…. This wasn’t just an attack on us, it was an attack on every ideology we have ever held. It is an attack on what we believe in. The Burg wish to divide us….” He turned to look in a wide circle and smiled, “I will say they failed.”

He didn’t try to speak after that as a cheer rose up into the air. Thousands of voices, both human and nonhuman crying their desire for revenge.

When things quieted down again, he turned to look at the Drev and raised a fist, “For those of you who don’t understand revenge… for glory!” That got a rise out of the Drev, and he bared his teeth like a wolf, hungry for blood.

It was then he got a surprise when a voice rose up from the crowd to the line of a song he had never heard.

IT repeated a few lines and then faded.

The second verse came up and then faded again.

He turned to see who was making the sound but he just couldn't make it out.

This time when the voice rose up there were others to echo it, a call and response.

The more the lyrics repeated the more voices that joined, until the entire room was filled with the roaring echo of a thousand voices.

He looked down at the command major, “What is this.”

The man stepped up beside him smiling slightly, “I learned it from a marine who worked on the commander’s ship. It's unofficial name: We are the Harbinger.

Lieutenant Colonel Tyson nodded his head, “Not bad… not bad at all.”

Rest in Peace, Commander

***

So, fun fact, walking out isn’t an option.

I know, I know what you might be thinking. Commander Vir, why didn’t you try that as soon as you got there. Well my young padawan, that was because I was in horrific pain and bleeding out on the floor, and after that it was because I was too exhausted to try anything. Plus, another part of me sort of assumed they were here to help me. I mean they hadn’t done anything to prove otherwise, so there was no real reason for me to worry.

However, this morning, when I tried to walk out past the Omnidroid, my path was blocked, and I was encouraged back to the other side of the cell. It wasn’t being mean or anything really, not that I would have known, but it made it pretty clear, I was supposed to stay here, and there were no other options.

Ok, that didn’t necessarily mean that I was a prisoner, it could just mean that they didn’t want me wandering around and messing stuff up, so instead, I sat down and turned to look up at them. Here was to finding out if this thing could speak. Or at least trying to figure out if I could understand it.

My quickest conclusion was totally not.

These guys sound like above ground wales. Their voices were so incredibly deep that when they vocalized, it shook the very ground around me and rattled inside my chest until I thought my spine was about to crawl out of my mouth.

You’re welcome, for that visual.

And unfortunately for me, I am not as talented as a small, forgetful, blue fish, and do not, in fact, speak whale

And I thought the Gromm were aliens, but this thing took it to an entirely new level.

There was always the chance that I could try and fight it, but I was hesitant to try that as they hadn’t actually hurt me. It seemed best to pursue all of my other options first, and determine if I was actually a prisoner, and if there was actually anything for me to worry about before I took such sudden and drastic measures.

So I sat in the white cotton fluff and wondered where this was going to go…. Also wondering where the next rest stop was, because I really had to pee, and I wasn’t a fan of having this guy around watching when I did.

The omnidroid didn’t move though, so I was forced to hold it.

If this went on any longer, you were going to be able to see the urine levels in my eyes as I slowly filled up to the very top.

No no that isn’t jaundice, that is just me really not wanting to pee in front of an alien, and… like where? There is nowhere in here to go.

Just as it seemed my eyeballs were about to shoot out of my head from the pressure, the door hissed open and another one of the omnidroids walked in.

They shook the cel with their voices for a second before turning to look at me…. At least I think.

Behind them, I can see others out in the hallway, a group of five or six. There is a bit of a commotion, and, for a moment, I thought I heard a distant voice, very high in pitch compared to the Omnidroids.

Reminded me of Krill a little, but wasn’t THAT wishful thinking.

Just then, the Omnidroids stepped from the room leaving the door open.

I watched them go.

And waited.

The door remained open.

Alright, i’ll bite.

I stood and took a step forward, slowly waking over to the door and poking my head out into the hallway. Two of them were blocking the hall to my left, but the hallway was open to my right. Also there was a random piece of fruit lying on the floor in the middle of the hallway. This made me frown as I had no idea what they were trying to accomplish with that.

I was not going to eat floor fruit.

I turned back to look at the other two at the end of the hall and then shrugged, turning the walk up the hall, stepping over the floor fruit and down around the next corner. They were blocking my way out to the right this time, so I went left. I thought I could see a sliver of light towards the end of the hallway.

I quickened my pace, jogging forward, my bare feet clattering over some sort of cold material that was neither metal or plastic, but something in between. I had to hold up a hand to block my face from the light, and by then it was too late.

There was a sharp snap, and I nearly leaped out of my skin turning around to find that a wall had risen up from the floor behind me and snapped into place leaving me inside an eight by four crate.

I turned in a sharp circle in confusion pressing my face up against the little window of light.

Shapes moved around outside, though I could see nothing beyond that.

I sighed and sat down on the floor.

Leaning my head back against the wall.

Great, I was trapped, AND I had to pee.

This really was turning out to be a pretty lousy day.

If only some super secret mystical universe force had granted me unimaginable power and a laser sword, then this wouldn’t be a problem, but instead of being a jedi, or Han solo, I was stuck here like an idiot…. Guess that made me a little more of a Captain Reyalds after all, or…. Star lord maybe?

No, star lord had a higher charisma score than I did, and you know, could actually get a date. I was… well I was me, Commander Adam Vir, the absolute lamest story protagonist ever. Where Spaceship captains were supposed to be dashing, I was sort of just….. weird ? Where they were supposed to be charismatic and confident, I was awkward and racked by crippling self doubt that I never let anyone else see. And while they were supposed to be smart and full of ingenuity. I was an idiot stuck in a box with no way out and really needing to pee.

Yeah, captain vir… whoo-hoo.” The lamest man alive.

If my life were a book, I would put it down.

The roof above my head jolted, and I nearly tumbled against the far wall as we began to move.

I braced myself against the back wall and steadied myself against the moving floor.

It went on for only maybe five seconds before there was a sharp thud and click. Another moment of silence, and the door hissed open.

I threw my hands up to cover my face blinking past the sudden onslaught of light.

WHen I could only sort of see, I walked forward, keeping my hand raised high in the air as I passed out of the door, feet falling onto soft sand.

The air around me was clean and fresh.

Somewhere water trickled.

I slowly lowered my hand eyes rising to the view before me.

And frowned.

You have got to be kidding me.

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 3 years

Text

And here we are with part 2, the second half of @jokersqueenofchaos’s request with her OC Eliza!!

You know I love me some sexual tension so I let that beast run wild! I really enjoyed the challenge of writing with your OC, lovely, and I’m so damn excited to post the ending 💓💓 Eliza is amazing and I’m still so honored to have written her for you!

It’s written again with plain text set in the present and italics as a flashback

Here is a link for part 1

Thank you again, dear!!

Ledger Joker x original female character, Ledger Joker x Eliza

Word count: 3,069

Warnings: some serious sexual tension, allusion to murder, allusion to sex, spicyy

Green Hair and a Red Smile, part 2

After turning the handle on the faucet, Eliza held her hand beneath the stream of water until it felt warm. It was strange, thinking back on it now. She spent so much time on her own, never even interested in anything but that. Why should she allow herself to be trapped in a cubicle, working nine to five, moving along with the rest of the flock only to be effectively slaughtered once her utility had run out? But this was obviously different. There was another path. The path further off the beaten path.

Her fingers plucked the elastic from her hair to let it fall down to her shoulders before ducking her head underneath the water, wisps of blue starting to swirl down the drain. She cupped water in her hands to let it run down the back of her head and little trails of warm water saturated the collar of her t-shirt. For the first time in a long time, she felt drawn to someone and since that day, she’s never looked back.

The feeling she’d been carrying in her stomach all day twisted into an even tighter knot as the sun hung low toward the horizon. It was almost time. Eliza was walking the streets along the Narrows, only a block away from the address Joker had given her. She asked herself, what are you doing here? There wasn’t a real answer to that, not yet. She was there to find out.

Cars were left to fall further into disrepair along the side of the road and most of the building’s windows had their glass broken. Naturally, the area appeared deserted, leaving plenty of opportunity for Gotham’s most cunning citizens to do what they did best. She peeked over her shoulder before crossing the street and continuing around a corner. The place was in front of her now, 228 W Holt. The brick building had five stories and the faded letters above the front entrance read, ‘Gotham Steel Works’. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, before cautiously approaching the door to tug on the handle.

It was locked. Her blood felt like ice as she questioned whether she had the right address, whether this was a set up and she’d made a big mistake. She tugged on the handle once more before cursing under her breath, feeling as though she was on the verge of panic. Then she turned around and was startled to see someone suddenly standing behind her.

“You Eliza?” the young man asked.

Eliza tried not to appear as frazzled as she was and nodded her head, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Follow me.”

He quickly turned and headed down the adjacent alley, not even looking back to see if she was keeping up with his long strides. She moved fast to keep from falling behind as he rounded the corner to the back of the building. There were two more men waiting there, both much larger than the one she followed. She slowed down and eyed both of them while they watched her continue to follow the younger man to a back door off of a loading dock. Her hand slid into her pocket to hold onto her knife until the door closed behind her. It was dark and there was no time for her eyes to adjust before Eliza heard another door open. She squinted in the darkness and saw the man go up a flight of stairs. Almost tripping over a pile of rubble, she managed to catch up before he reached the top.

Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw him. He looked back at her over his shoulder, his gaze on her before she could even blink. He turned around to face her, his expression didn’t change but she saw something in his eyes. The room encompassing that entire floor was lined by huge windows. Dim golden light from the setting sun outside streamed through the cracked panes of glass to cast shadows on the floor. Rows of large columns supported the high ceiling of the decaying room, a cluttered old desk sitting alone in the center with two chairs on either side.

“Ahh ya made it,” Joker purred, his mouth pulling into a grin. “Let’s begin, hm?”

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath at the sound of his voice before nodding at him, her eyes never leaving his face. A feeling that she shouldn’t be there twisted her insides more as she watched Joker wave the young man away and he headed back down the stairs. They were alone. But this wasn’t the first time they’d been alone. Her rationality continued it’s battle with her overwhelming need to be caught in that clown’s gaze as he beckoned her toward the desk.

Her feet moved all on their own, taking careful steps toward the desk. Her cheeks were already burning when she felt his eyes on her as she walked. This implicit, albeit ill-advised, trust she had in him kept hanging on and wouldn’t let go. Was it actually trust or just blind devotion? But if he was going to hurt her he would have done it by now, right?

She remained in her trance as she lowered herself onto one of the chairs while he removed his coat and gloves. He met her gaze as he sat opposite to her at the desk, kicking his feet up to rest his heels with his ankles cross on its ledge. Her gaze flickered over his face, over his scars, but not for too long. Not long enough to appear that they disturbed her, but rather that maybe they interested her. He took the opportunity to study her demeanor. Still and calm yet trembling with some contrasting force that clawed at her psyche, begging her to turn and run but ultimately falling silent in the depths of her mind. What was he going to do with her? Let her follow him around like a lost puppy? Then what? Perhaps she could prove useful. His mind cooked up a few scenarios until he pondered a phony hostage setup… like a fishing lure. Bait for a giant bat.

He blinked away his drifting thoughts and stated in a very forward manner, “Let’s set some, uh, ground rules, shall we? Number one, no squealin’, I’ll know if you squeal. Number two don’t touch any-thing you see layin’ around. And number threee, stop starin’ at me,” tapping a finger on one hand with each statement. Then a small smirk pulled at his mouth while he blinked back at her as she gradually understood his words.

Eliza’s cheeks burned even hotter and she quickly averted her gaze to the floor. It was so hard to tell whether he was serious or if he was trying to trick her. Did it matter?

“I, uh… I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Mm, ‘course ya didn’t.”

A tingle crawled its way into her belly and her eyes quickly shifted back to his face. Then the words came from her mouth before she could stop them.

“No… I did.”

Her words reached his ears and his eyes remained fixed on her with brows raised as her mouth opened, possibly in an effort to recant her statement, but she remained silent. No one liked looking at him. His face startled and terrified. Why would anyone enjoy looking at it? Perhaps she’s a masochist.

The corner of his mouth twitched at his own joke.

What to do? Perhaps she’s trying to toy with him. She’d taken this little interaction to the next level and Joker was not one to play second fiddle when it comes to controlling a conversation.

“Well rules were, uh, ma-de to be broken, Elizaaa” he rumbled in a deep voice, lacing his fingers together over his lap. “How would you describe what you see then, hm?”

She tried to but she couldn’t understand what had just happened in such a short amount of time. He hadn’t even said anything about this so-called job and here she was admitting that she’d been staring at him. Then the tingle she felt, that knot in her stomach, suddenly made her uncomfortably and intensely aware of something. She was attracted to him. It was unmistakable. Heat rose up until it was over the top of her head. How did she not see it before?

He waited for her answer, watching the flame grow behind her eyes. This wasn’t originally a trap he had planned to set, but it would serve its purpose none the less. She stared at him, as he expected she would. Perhaps searching for the right word to utter. Crazy, diabolical, troubling, ruined, disturbing, unsettling. Terrifying.

“You’re… handsome,” she answered, her voice threatening to crack. Her nerves were standing on end. She came here to follow that feeling she got when he looked at her like that, now she wanted more, and she couldn’t stop herself.

Joker started to chuckle, a wide grin stretching over his face. She must be joking, trying to beat him at his own game. That, she was not going to succeed at. But then there were her eyes. Her eyes said otherwise. Behind her tentative expression he could see a looming excitement, bubbling just beneath the surface, tickling at her insides.

Handsome.

Compliments wouldn’t get her anywhere, but she did capture his attention. Handsome is not a word he’d use to describe himself. Not a word anyone else would use, for that matter. He smirked as he stared her down with intensity, studying her. He wondered what else was going on in that muddled mind of hers, clawing at her from the inside, begging to be set free. The buzz of building anticipation emanating from her was contagious. He found himself wanting her to keep talking. He dropped his heels from the table and leaned across it toward her, bringing his face within a foot of hers.

“Well, Elizaaa. If I’m, uh, handsome, how would you describe these scars?” he said before running his tongue along his lower lip and tilting his head, keeping her in his gaze.

Her heart continued to pound mercilessly against her ribs as her eyes darted to his mouth. Her thoughts were becoming more and more warped together, blurring where her fear ended, and her arousal began. It was so new, so strange, so alluring.

Her thoughts drifted from her subconscious, straight out through her mouth, her voice distant and dream-like. “They look like… like they’re rough. But, soft. Maybe they’re soft.”

Her words carried such a typical civility for such an atypical meeting. They dared each other to toe that line between normalcy and that dark place below it, waiting to see who falls over the edge first. Joker couldn’t deny that this excited him. It was egging him on to push her closer. But something was holding him back, keeping him on that ledge with her.

Eliza’s eyes never left his mouth, unblinking and focused while her gaze remained somehow so distant. Her own lips parted as she lifted her hand from the table and cautiously brought toward to his face. Then her trembling fingertips brushed lightly over the dented skin.

He flinched. He wanted to smack her hands away, grab her thin little wrists and slam them down on the table. But he couldn’t. He willed himself to move but kept still, his jaw tensing as he focused his fiery stare on her pensive face, her eyelids heavy, her lips flushed and rosy. Something stirred inside him. He hated to admit it, but a lack of intimate contact had been grating away at him. That human need. He hated it. Her proximity only reminded him of that need. That eternal itch, begging to be scratched.

She was no longer in control of her actions. Caution was far behind her and she’d entered a state of mind that offered no rationality. She leaned in further, her gaze unfaltering. Her other hand had joined in the perilous exploration of his face, fingers grazing closer to his lips as his tongue slipped out of his mouth to lick them. Her rapid huffs of breath washed over his face, intensifying the tension that hung thickly between them.

The damaged nerve endings conducted their erratic signals, the haphazardly healed tissue trying desperately to function as it once did. Her soft touch sent goosebumps roiling down his back. Her touch felt… good. Fingertips so timid and light, it made his stomach flutter maddeningly and his breath heavy. That inner need to be touched mercilessly devoured the feeling.

Joker felt himself losing control. He didn’t like that. He wanted to be angry. But anger is what was expected, even from himself, and he took pride in opting for the unexpected. Spontaneity gave him power.

He slowly reached his hands up to hold either side of her face, their noses now inches apart. His voice came out like gravel.

“You want to know what they feel like?”

Eliza’s throat went dry and her chest squeezed against the sharp breath she tried to take, stunned by his question. It ran through her head, searching for her response, but none could be found.

Electricity ran across her skin and the warmth in her belly fluttered into her chest when his fingertips suddenly grazed her heated cheeks. Joker couldn’t remember the last time his hands had touched someone without the intention of causing harm, leaving stains of red behind. But he hadn’t forgotten how. As he held her face, her hands found his neck, heat radiating from beneath his collar as her fingers continued their torturous caress across his skin. I was maddening, how much he liked it. His breath quickened but his expression remained like stone as he fought with his innermost desires. He fought his need to feel her, more of her. Let go, push her away.

Then her nose made the slightest contact with his, her eyes burning him as his insides boiled, rising higher into his chest.

This little contest he’d instigated had reached a breaking point, now trapping them both in a web of their own magnetism, growing stronger with each second they spent with such a slight distance between them. A need to take her for himself rang in his ears. You’re mine.

Closer still. She leaned in closer and nodded, giving him wordless affirmation, permission. Her breath on his lips beckoned him.

Impulse, a sudden strong and unreflective urge or desire to act.

He reached his fingers into her hair before pulling her forward, crashing his lips into hers. The overwhelming sensation of plump flesh on flesh flooded his senses as he devoured her, tangling his mouth with hers with unrestrained passion as if he was going to swallow her whole. The taste of her lips, her tongue, it was intoxicating. It reached down to his bones and held on tight. This was self-indulgence to its highest degree. He let it take him over, his senses swirling with endorphins he so often deprived himself of. His belly was winding tighter and tighter with that desire he knew too well, his body begging for release. So many times, he’d ignored it, or quickly provided it some feeble source of friction it so desperately called for, in an effort to make it disappear. But it always came back. A hollow and wanting thirst that was never quenched.

She kissed him back. Her mouth eagerly accepted his and allowed him to consume her with dizzying fervor as she desperately gripped his collar. Eliza’s blood ran hotter than it ever had before. It sparked and rushed through her veins, plunging her deep below the surface of the deep, dark desire that now enveloped her. More. She wanted more.

The flames threatening to consume them both reached fever pitch, Joker’s control over his own actions quickly turning to ash.

The he pulled back, the rising heat in his core coming to a halt just below boiling point. He huffed as his heart continued to pound, his eyes flickering over her face, looking for any clues in her expression. Her heavy lids reflected some concentration or inquisitiveness as she stared back at him, her jaw just slightly dropped and posture as if she’d just been doused in cold water.

There wasn’t any fear there, no. It felt as though she’d lost her mind. She’d lost her mind and it was supposed to be that way. An assiduousness took over her features before she leaned back in, her own lips finding his in reciprocation. He stiffened at the tenderness in her kiss, his determination to steel himself hanging on by a thread. But the slow, provocative dance of her mouth against his plucked at that thread, keeping him there, tangling his fingers in her hair.

She could feel them, his scars. They caressed her cheeks and glided over her lips when he kissed her. Rough. Soft.

Tossing her freshly dyed hair over her shoulders, Eliza watched herself in the mirror again. That night changed her. She never needed anyone but being with him felt like belonging. The twitching of his mouth, his piercing glances, they stirred something in her that made everything else feel so dull. There was no going back. She’d been captured by the inexplicable charm that blinded her to everything else she once knew. But it didn’t feel like a loss. The world would move on with or without her. It always did. Now she’d move on without it.

The day after Pandora’s box opened, the day after that beast called lust ran free, he licked her kiss off of his lips as she lowered the black plastic bag over his head. Only an hour after her thumb hit the call button. After she told the deep voice on the other end, the one she knew wouldn’t be able to speak for much longer, “I have your clown.”

Her smile grew at the reflection in the mirror as his paint-stained hands slid around her waist, their grip warm and firm. He held her against his chest, his face alongside hers as he lifted a hand from her waist to twist one of her bright blue locks around his finger.

“Mm so this is what you’ve been up to, hm?”

Eliza let her head fall back against Joker’s chest and she answered, “I can do yours next.”

Taglist @youmaycallmebrian @heavymetalnarwhal @neverputsaltinyoureyes @jokersqueenofchaos @into-crazy @killingjokee @astheworlddturns @jslittlebirdie @drreidsconverse @vipervixxen

#heath ledger joker #the dark knight #tdk joker #ledger!joker #joker fanfiction #ledger joker x oc #request #oc request

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jacksons-goddess-gaia · 3 years

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Demons Sonata~ Chapter 1

❖ EXO, tba idol x oc

❖ Series, fluff, supernatural au, angst, alternate universe au, ceo au

❖ Warnings: being followed, fear of the unknown, hinted death.

❖ wc: 2010

❖ Tag List: @queen-of-himbos @kimnamshiks @wonderland-obsession @gettin-a-lil-hanse @not-majestic-bluenicorn

❖ Masterlist ❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Welcome into a different world~ Discover it-or more discover them and all the spooks, hijinks, light, and darkness along the way! I’d love to know what you think!

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Feet clicked against cobblestone. Heels digging into sore ankles, blisters stinging with every movement. A harsh wind was blowing through the city streets, the icy bite of winter frost chilling her down to the bone within minutes. Despite this, she forged on, bright eyes squinting, straining to see the sign that marked her end goal.

Cars rattled past, the strangers within the windows of shops and cafes hardly taking notice of this oddly dressed traveler hurrying through the night filled streets. Nor did she blame them, they were all focused upon their own lives, the happy bubbles of people unbothered by the darkness plaguing her. The lady shook her head in an attempt to banish the terrifying images, dark, yet rich scarlet locks breaking free from their restraints to dance like flames in the night behind her.

“Come on!” She urged herself, frustration bleeding into her fear, hands clutching the thin black peacoat tighter around her. The far off sound of a siren wailing urgent and mournfully set her pounding heart on edge. If only she had listened to her instincts, if she had stayed home and ignored the snide remarks of her coworkers, she wouldn’t be in this mess! Cursing her all too human ‘want’ to be accepted, and her damned curiosity in the mysterious men who headed the company she worked for.

Their faces flashed before her eyes even now, dark eyes glittering, their curved lips and pride-filled powerful frames outlined in the glowing lights of the club. How stupid had she been, lured in by the forbidden fruit, that she had become blind to all the warning signs around her. Moments before it had all fallen apart she had wondered what her coworkers had meant when admiringly yet with a hint of something she now realized had been fear, called her brave for mingling with them. Like a fly drawn to honey, a rabbit awed by the beauty of the wolves den, she had been drawn into their trap.

As the shadows lengthened around her, the street lights burning, headlights of taxis flying past, she felt her blood grow cold once again. They had told her, had they not? Warned her that it was too late to turn back, too late to run, for now, the dark things she once believed were stories she knew to be real. And as she grew aware of them, they had become aware of her as well. Drawn to her they seemed to be, and even as she wished she did not, she glimpsed the shadow moving along the street across from her. Chewing on curved lips, painted a color akin to the blood surging through her pounding heart, she broke into a run. The small pools of that afternoon's rain splashing softly wetting her feet, however the promise of safety, however hollow and false it might be, drove her to pay the cold moisture no mind.

With an overwhelming surge of relief the neon sign, a beacon of light upon this smaller side street came into view. Had she paused for even a moment, stopped to greet the night guard as she usually would, Rosalina might have noticed the dazed and unseeing eyes upon the guards slack face. Then again had the wave of relief not distracted her, she might have felt the ice leave her veins. Or perhaps she might have noticed how as she neared the entrance she moved out of the unnaturally dark street into a bright beam of fiercest moonlight.

Feet pounding up the steps so quickly she appeared to fly, Rosalina had the door of her apartment unlocked and open before she fully stopped moving. As if to mark the end of her luck as she raced across the threshold, the stiletto of her heel snapped. A quiet gasp escaped her throat as she fell backwards, hands flying out into the shadows of the room for a hold. However, before she could fall back out the entrance from which she came, a set of strong arms wrapped around her.

“Careful.” Warned a husked voice beside her ear, the fear from which she had fled, flooding back the air leaving her lungs in a shriek.

“I forget how slowly you humans move.” Remarked another voice as Rosalina attempted to balance upon her now broken heels, the door swinging closed behind her with a click. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness within the room. Glancing around with wide eyes her heart leapt into her throat, nine figures slowly loomed out of the darkness, their silhouettes basking in the moonlight streaming from her open balcony doors.

“How?” as she stumbled back from the all too familiar man who had stopped her from falling. One of the men snorted at her legs trembling, she collapsed against the door.

“Really Rose, I’m disappointed. After what you saw did you really think a mere lock and chain would stop us?”

With the snap of his fingers all the lights came on at once, illuminating them fully before her eyes for the first time. As the folly of her actions and her last prayer that this was all one horrible dream, vanished like smoke before a hurricane. Rose was forced to realize the men who she had been so eager to befriend and learn about weren’t men at all.

“Don’t scare her.” Rebuked a man she recognized with ease, his stoic face a mask as usual. Sehun's eyes left her speechless as he leveled his gaze with the scarlet haired man sitting astride the arm of her couch. His gentle but raspy voice seemed to ease her nerves as she hesitantly kicked off her heels, if she needed to run-not that she believed now would help her in any way-she wasn’t about to break her ankle.

“Chill Sehun, he's being honest.” An impishly smiling Baekhyun was watching her with some amusement. Had she been less shocked and more angry, Rose might have told him to wipe that stupid grin off his face. It had been his interaction with her that had first piqued her interest, working under the funny man who had first invited her out. Dangling the fact that she could shut her snobby coworkers up if she came to the latest party to celebrate the successful buyout of their rival corporation. In fact she was angry enough, and as the grumbled words left her lips, the young man's eyebrows shot up to hide beneath his blonde bangs. While Chen choked on the tea he had seemingly helped himself to in her favorite mug no less, a rather irritating laugh left her bosses lips.

“See I told you she’s not a sheep like the others!” Baekhyun seemed delighted rather than insulted that his subordinate had just mouthed off to him in front of his own boss and colleagues.

“I guess there's still hope for humans.” Conceded Kyungsoo rolling his eyes as Kai beside him burst into hysterics, smacking his arm repeatedly in his mirth.

“Only some.” Agreed Xiumin grinning like the cheshire cat from story books.

“What do you want from me?” She demanded tired of this pandering and the uncomfortable feeling of those intense eyes burning into her skin. Pulling her coat tight around herself once again, Rose fervently wished she had worn a dress that was less revealing.

“Want?” Lay, who had stopped her from a crash landing in the hallway, cocked his head to the side puzzled.

“How do you feel about a promotion?” Chanyeol's cocky smirk said he knew all too well of how she would respond, a strong dislike forming within her at smugness.

“How would anyone feel about a promotion?” She scoffed, if she was going to be forced to play this game, she was going to play it her way, not theirs.

“Fair enough. Well, Rose-”

“Rosalina, only friends call me Rose.” She corrected Suho, for a second his pitch eyes darkened before he relaxed.

“I’d hoped we were. You didn’t seem to have a problem with being a friend earlier tonight,” he recalled with unnerving calm.

“That was before you claimed to be demons, and admitted to dooming me and everything else.” Rose reminded him with a scowl.

“Doom?” Sehun asked, looking affronted by the statement.

“You exaggerate.” Chuckled Chen not seeing the glare she shot in his direction,

“Exaggerate? Let me tell you mister big bad demon, humans are not used to seeing shadowy beasts moving and following them down streets!” Her snarl took the amusement out of the room, even Baekhyun sobered.

“They’re following her already?” Demanded Chanyeol, instantly moving to the window and looking outside before growling low in his throat, an inhuman sound that set the hair of her arms and head on end.

“Are you telling me you can see them?” Suho’s voice was deathly serious, his eyes darkening as he leaned forward, winged red hair standing out against the white of the couch.

“Yeah, those weird smoke shadow things.” She gestured back out the window, her bravery faltering as Xiumin joining Chanyeol at the window swore under his breath before he and the much taller man disappeared evaporating into billowing tendrils of black smoke.

"We need to leave. Now! She's awakening too quickly." Suho's words were directed at Sehun, the younger boy nodding face a mask as he seized her wrist.

"Let's grab your things, it's not safe until we know who is following."

"Not safe-You're the ones who-"

But her protest was cut off as a shadow flashed across the room from the open window. Before it could take shape, Sehun's eyes flashed and with a burst of heat and flash of light it exploded into smoke. A dense smell of sulfur lingering in the air, the feel of a slimy phantom hand closing around your neck dissipating with it.

"Bogarts, no...its goblins. They love to prey on those at the beginning of their awakening, especially strong ones." Chen's eyes flitted to the window as a group of shadows raced away. "You must be especially tasty and powerful for them to dare enter the established zone. They must think you're worth the risk of dying since soon enough even you would be able to destroy them."

"They are notoriously dumb but to dare enter here..." Suho seemed enraged and equally disgusted, turning his eyes back upon Rosalina. "For now it'd be best if you came with us, not that we're really giving you the option. I doubt Baekhyun or Sehun would be thrilled if the goblins devoured your soul in order to transcend."

"Only grab the things you desperately need. Anything irreplaceable, otherwise we will supply whatever you need." Sehun's voice was quiet but left no room for negotiations. And that's how Rose found herself, scrambling to pack a suitcase of all her worldly and sentimental belongings.

"Really?" Sehun's eyebrow rose as she shoved a rather old and well-loved kitten plushie into the suitcase. However, as she glared at him, he held up his hands in surrender. Despite the calls from the living room to hurry it up, Rosalina took her time to pack, a mixture of rebellion and disbelief slowing her pace, praying that at any moment someone might jump out and shout cut, or that this might all dissolve away like the shadows. Sadly by the time she had finished packing however no such miracle had occurred. Taking her hand in his Sehun pulled her back out into the living room sparing her a sympathetic look as he felt the way her hands trembled, the tears of frustration and confusion welling in her eyes.

"Finally, get ready to go. It might feel odd, but bear with it, it'll all be over in a moment." Instructed Chen with a smile taking the suitcase as Sehun suddenly pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself around her from behind.

"Close your eyes." He whispered, the only warning she would receive before the world turned sideways, her stomach twisting as her feet left the ground; Everything whipping and warping around her before blinking out of existence.

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 3 years

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Perfectly Confused Angel- Epilogue

A/N: Wow, I can’t believe we have come to the end of PCA! I began writing this after a conversation with a friend and it turned into one of my favorite stories! Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying it; y’all are amazing! I felt like after 15x18 of Supernatural (if you haven’t seen it, I won’t say what happened) I owed him this kind of happiness. And what better GIF to end this series than with the one that started this series? I love Misha and Castiel will always have a home in my heart

So even though it’s not mentioned until later on, I envision this epilogue to take place six months after the wedding.

You can read the entire series here and find more fandoms I write for here.

Tag lists requests are open for all fandoms but they are CLOSED for this series.

Warnings: Lots of fluff, Cas being a naughty boi! Mentions of sex but very slightly, Dean eating tons of shit (that’s a warning) cliffhanger!

Word Count: 2,350

Reader’s POV

Being married took some getting used to but honestly, we both had wanted this more than anything in the world, so we were ready and we were quick to adjust. After our honeymoon, which Castiel took a great interest in because we got to take a trip for two weeks and go somewhere exotic. We chose to go to Italy and we explored the more popular cities; Rome, Sicily, Venice, and Milan. The entire Italian culture was new and exciting, especially for Cas because he was so used to America and the customs they have, that seeing the way of life for Italians was completely different. When you came home, you had decided to move out of the Bunker and into your own place. Sure, Sam and Dean offered for you to stay there, but since Cas and you had plans to have children at some point, you thought it would be better to have your own space and give the Winchesters their own space. Both brothers helped you pick your place and assisted in the moving, until you were settled. The first night in your new place didn’t quite go too well. Being so used to the Bunker, every little creak in the doors or the sound of the wind blowing against the windows, made both of you rather paranoid.

“Don’t worry, Honeybee, it’s all just noise,” Cas whispered to you as you moved as close as possible to him in your shared bed. “We locked every door and window in the house.”

“Will you still protect me?” You ask, in a small, timid voice.

“Of course, I will. I will always protect you, (Y/N). That’s my job as your husband, isn’t it?” He said, as more of a question than a statement. He was still adjusting to the role of a husband and was afraid he wasn’t going to “do a good job.”

“Yes Cas, we will protect each other. You have your angel blade close by, right? Just in case?” You ask.

He chuckled before sitting up and grabbing his pillow from behind him. “It’s right here, just in case,” he said, showing you the blade that laid waiting to be used.

When sleep eventually came and took over, it felt different and you felt more rested in the morning, because he was there beside you, holding you close as you slept. As the sun rose the next morning, it shined through the blinds over the window and right into your eyes. Groaning and turning your head away from the light, you feel Cas chuckle at your childlike complaint.

“Good morning, Honeybee,” he said, kissing your temple, causing another groan to push past your lips.

“If it was a good morning, I’d still be asleep,” you say, your voice muttered by Castiel's shirt.

He laughs again before trying another approach to wake you. He leaned down to kiss along your forehead, trailing down the bridge of your nose, to your cheek that wasn’t hiding in the pillows, before ending on your lips. At first, you tried to fight him, not really wanting to wake up, no matter how much he kissed you, but when you felt his hand in a rather sensitive area, you immediately woke up and kissed him back.

“So, I guess someone’s up now,” he smirked as he pulled away to look down at you.

“Well if you’re going to do this kind of stuff, I wouldn’t mind waking up every morning,” you say, before bringing him back to your lips.

It was nice to just take your time and not have to worry about being anywhere anytime soon. Walking out to the kitchen, you took out the ingredients and a frying pan for pancakes; one of Castiel’s favorites. You thought to add chocolate chips in the batter because Cas had a bit of a sweet tooth and you knew he wouldn’t oppose the melted chocolatey goodness. Grabbing the mix, you measure out enough for the two of you, adding some water to help with the consistency. Mixing it all together, you add a half a bag of chips to the thickening batter, before finding the perfect consistency. When the pan was heated up, you took a ladle and poured batter in four separate places, making little circles as the mix bubbled up just a bit. As time passed, you examined the bottom part of the cake to see if it was turning into a brownish color, before you flip over to cook the other side. When the cakes were cooked thoroughly on both sides, you scooped them up and flipped them down on a plate and placed a small pad of butter on each one. As you started your process over again, you felt arms wrap around your waist and the tickle of someone's breath on your neck.

“Looks good darlin’,” Cas said in your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Thank you, should be ready in a few minutes. You can grab a plate and get started if you want,” you say, twisting to look up at your husband.

“Now why would I do that?” He asks.

“Cause you’re hungry?” You answer, confusion obvious in your tone.

“Yes, but I would rather wait until you can sit and eat with me,”

“That, that right there, is why I married you. Well, it’s one of the many reasons why I married you, but your level of sweetness should be illegal,” you say, smiling at the blush that formed on your husband’s face.

“Well, you deserve that kind of sweetness,” he admitted, before coming back to your side and kissing your cheek.

“Breakfast is served!” You said proudly, when your last pancake was platted and buttered.

“Wonderful! I made us some coffee too,” Cas said, placing a mug in front of where you were going to sit at the table and his across from you. Just as you sat down and were about to cut your first piece of pancake, there was a knock at the door. You sighed, putting your fork down, before moving to stand from the table.

“I’ll get it,” Cas said, putting his hand out as a gesture for you to stay put.

“Thanks Cas,” you say, stabbing the cake on your fork once again.

“Sam, Dean, what are you doing here?” You hear Cas question, before the two brothers walked up to the table you were sitting at.

“Oh, it’s breakfast time!” Dean said, grabbing a pancake with his hand and not using a plate.

“Um, no, it’s not. It’s our time for breakfast, not yours,” you say, annoyed by Dean inviting himself to your food. Sam looked at you with an apologetic expression before you gestured for him to help himself too.

“Might as well help yourself Sam, since someone decided we were okay with him eating our food,” Cas said, reading your facial expression.

“You didn’t want me to eat with you?” Dean asked, mouth full of cake.

“No, we didn’t but since you already started eating, please, help yourselves,” you say, not losing the frustrating tone of your voice.

“Sorry, (y/n),” said Dean, before he swallowed his food. “I thought since we needed Cas for a case, we could all eat together.”

“Well I guess that would’ve been okay but you should’ve asked!” You said, still frustrated at the eldest Winchester.

“I know and I will, next time this happens. That is, if we interrupt another one of your meals,” Dean promised.

“Knowing you Dean, yeah, you’ll interrupt a meal again,” you say, half as a joke and half as a dig.

“So, what’s this case you said you needed my help with?” Cas asked, changing the subject and seeing you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him for saving the day from more embarrassment.

“Something about a series of people disappearing from a walking trail in broad daylight,” Dean explains, this time without anything in his mouth.

“Doesn’t sound like your kind of thing,” you say, not fully grasping the significance of the events.

“Yeah but so get this,” Sam said his usual catch phrase to transition into a deeper explanation. “When they find the bodies days later, there is no evidence of any blood left over in the body.

“No blood? You thinking vamps?” You suggest.

“Seems like it, but there also are no bite marks, at least not visible to the human eye,” Sam continues explaining his research he’s already conducted on this case.

“So, what then? The only real monsters that drink blood are vampires but if there are no bite marks on the vics, then how do they get the blood?” Your interest is peaked as you dive deeper into the investigating side of hunts.

“Well, this might sound rather, off, but I’m wondering if whoever is after these people, are extracting blood in a nontraditional way,” Sam says.

“How? Syringes? Like doctors?” You question.

“Maybe, but I think that would take too long, considering syringes run rather small,” Sam answers, making both of you fall silent, before Dean whines, saying he needs a beer.

“It’s nine o’clock in the morning!” You say, surprised his drinking is already happening at this hour of the day.

“Well I need to relax a bit here, kid, okay? Dean asks, bending down to look in the fridge, only finding there were not drinks with any amount of alcohol.

“You guys don’t have any beer?” He asks, lifting back up to his normal positioning, and eyeing you.

“No, we don’t. I don’t drink and Cas only really drinks when he’s with you two, so we agreed not to keep any in the house on a regular basis. However,” you trail off, walking over to a small coat closet by the front door, Dean watching your ever move curiously. “We figured you’d be visiting at some point, so we grabbed a small pack for you and Sam,” you grin when the green eyes of the man standing before you, falls to your hands.

“Aw, I knew there was a reason why we liked you, sweetheart,” Dean says, taking the case from your hands and throwing a can to Sam.

“Oh yeah, just because I keep you stocked with beer and uh,” you say, shuffling over to the pantry in the kitchen and pulling out a cherry pie, passing it over to the easily excited Winchester.

“Oh yes, that’s my girl,” Dean says, grinning wide at you.

“Technically, she is my girl Dean, but I will share her goodness with you,” Cas defends your relationship.

“Thanks bud,” he says, grabbing his fork from the pancakes from earlier and diving right in.

You laugh, shaking your head as you watched him happily pick at the dessert that sat before him.

“Oh man, (y/n) this is some good pie,” he says, speaking with his mouth full again.

“I’m glad you like it Dean, but please, don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s hard to understand you and we’re getting quite a nasty view of chewed-up pie,” you scold the hunter.

He waited until he cleared the food away in his mouth before speaking again. “Sorry kid.”

“Alright, I think we better get going if we want to get a handle on this and before anyone else gets killed,” Sam says, taking the attention of the vacuum cleaner that was his older brother.

“I’ll go grab my angel blade,” Cas says, leaving to go to your room.

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Sam said, knowing how much you used to talk about your wedding day, even before getting engaged.

“Well, it’s only been six months but I really love it. Getting to be around Cas all the time, seeing him every morning before starting my day, it means a lot. I’m really happy, Sam,” you say, smiling wide at the thought of life with Castiel.

“I’m happy for you, (y/n). If anyone deserved this lifestyle, it’s you and Cas,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you, Sam.”

When the boys are all packed up and ready to leave on their hunt, you tidy up Castiel’s jacket, smoothing out any wrinkles left over, and straightening his tie. You refused to make eye contact with him, even as you felt his sapphire eyes bore down on you, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up into them.

“Okay, do you guys have everything you need?” You ask, stepping away from the angel.

“Yeah, I think we’re all good.” Dean says, looking around the living room of the apartment. “Cas? Have everything?”

He looks to you before asking, “come with us?” Your heart skipped a beat, knowing Cas wanted you with him, but you shook your head.

“I’m good. Someone needs to hold this place together while you’re gone,” you say, quickly casting your eyes back to the floor.

“Honeybee?” Cas said and you were surprised to hear how close he was to you, which caused you to look up at him. You stayed silent as tears softly began falling from your eyes; you always hated goodbyes.

“I promise to be home as soon as possible,” he says, bringing your lips to his in a loving kiss.

“Well good, because I’m not the only one who will be waiting for you to come home,” you say as the three men turn to you.

“What?” Dean spoke first.

“You still want those kids, right, Cas?” You ask, making sure he was still on the same page as you.

“Yes, of course. More than anything,” he reassures you.

“Well good, because I’m pregnant,”

The room remained quiet and no one dared to make a move, until Castiel’s mind registered your news and he was by your side, gently picking you up and kissing you once again.

“I’m going to be a Father?” He asks as he sets you back down and you nod your response.

“Guys, I’m going to be a Dad!” Castiel beams to his friends as they hugged and congratulated you two. What better way to motivate Cas to come home safely other than knowing a little one was on their way soon?

Tags: @tloveswriting @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @markofdean79 @simpleboox @hobby27 @thinkinghardhardlythinking @spnjediavenger @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2

#castiel #castiel angel of the lord #cas fanfic #castiel fluff #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #Misha Collins

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