.

Loosely roughing out trigger events for the Calamity Trio-

Anne’s crisis is her lack of self-esteem, and her ensuing moral flexibility. She takes all her ethical cues from her friends, puts an unhealthy amount of her time and energy into pleasing them, really heavily centers her sense of self on them, and explicitly says this is because she didn’t really love herself. The trigger is identity-based and almost pure changer, probably incited by a by scheme gone so violently wrong that it hammers it into her head how toxic her relationship is with the people she loves most in the world, and how empty her sense of self is otherwise. Hard to square this one with a moment in canon, because by the time she had her “oh god Sasha is actually horrible to me” moment it was after she’s resolved her identity crisis by integrating herself as Wartwood’s protector.

Sasha’s crisis is her domineering nature, her queen-bee social-control freak tendencies, with a cynical outlook on relationships implicitly informed by her parents divorce, AND, most crucially, her extremely strong self-perception as a guardian and a protector of her two friends. Changer elements there, with how strongly she failed to live up to that self-assessment in practice, but it feels secondary to the need to be in control. That kinda-sorta maps to a number of canonical thinker triggers- Accords, Jacks, Tattletale’s to a degree. Thinker....changer? I’m picturing a scheme where she badly misreads her control of a delicate social situation, violently overcompensates in a way that makes her think she’s broken her friends faith in her.... Similar stuff happens to her in canon, it’s kind of a recurring beat, as is her tendency to externalize her screw-ups and get angry at others for things that are her own fault... I feel like I’m almost onto something here but this is the hardest to make fit.

Marcy! Marcy’s easy. Marcy is terrified of being alone, being left behind, being unable to form new connections due to her eclectic interests, and in canon she’s basically on a countdown until that definitely (in her mind) happens. It’s pure Master (Only reinforced by the Andrias thing.) The moment she finds out about the move almost works as a trigger. I feel like a semi-coherent power would riff on her fantasy in the core; phantom, siberian-esque mimics of her friends with semi-fluid aesthetics and powersets influenced by whatever series Marcy’s gotten into lately, which can only manifest when the real Anne and Sasha aren’t around and then gradually diverge in personality, mannerisms and power utility the longer Marcy is away from the real people, eventually bottoming out as the mindless yes-men that Marcy had in the fantasy, highlighting the physical and emotional gulf between her and her friends.

Alright, open call on this one, anyone familiar with both franchises, help me flesh these out kindly please and thank you

Heartbroken

I HELD HER FIRST! Because her mother was under anesthesia from the C section. After many years, God had bestowed a GIFT, a daughter. She was the apple of my eye, the joy of my days. Sometimes when the Union had me on furlough, I was able to spend the whole day with her instead her going to day care. I got to photograph her first 5 years. She was adorable, delightful, smart as a whip and very precocious. Never in a million years, did I ever think she would not be a part of my life. How does it happen? I never cheated on her mother. I worked hard and went along with all that the she wanted-new bigger home, vacations, etc…. I wasn’t an alcoholic, never was physically abusive. Maybe I was too compliant, until I wasn’t. I started saying “no” to put downs and control. Some men do way worse, go to prison even. The courts still allow visitation to them! I was asked to move out. Went through all the demands for counseling. Nothing was good enough. Was not allowed visitation without a “third person” present. Slowly my daughter was being lost to me. I saw her dragging her feet one time when her mother brought her to counseling. My heart broke- I didn’t want her to dread the time with me. After 3 years I filed for divorce, hoping that it would make an impression on her mother and we could sit down and work it out. Came to find out from her she was going to file for divorce herself anyway. I missed out on so much: dance recitals, sports that she was in….when I asked for schedule was told by her baby sitter “no way”. I wasn’t included in any life celebration, graduation high school, college and ultimately her wedding. For all that I know, I might be a grandfather! My current wife encouraged me to contact her after she had graduated college via Facebook. Hoping that we could start fresh now that she was an adult. I prayed every time a connection was made through emails. Finally she agreed to meet (brought my current wife present-in case she felt threatened). We seemed to have a pleasant conversation. I did hug her good bye, but later found out she felt I hugged her too tight and too long. Another defeat! Met her one more time in person a few weeks later. Emails continued, I was always thrilled when she responded. She met a really nice young man and got engaged. I was so happy for her! As the wedding approached, e-mails slowed down, which is totally understandable. She was in love, with her whole life ahead of her. Then nothing,  until about a month before she got married. She informed me by email that  she was uncomfortable and wouldn’t be communicating with me any more. I hadn’t apologized for “the hurt I put her mom and her through”.  Funny thing, when we met in person for the first time, she told me she didn’t remember anything before she was 5. So what “hurt” was she alluding to. Seems like she only had what was told her to go on. Only one side of the story. Never got a chance to tell my side. How could I. Never wanted to put her mom down in any way. It’s horrible when parents put each other down to the innocent child caught in the middle.

My Friend’s Father (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 3,064

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

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

Almost a week had passed since you stayed with Cillian at his unit in Galway and, despite the fact that he was away, things had further developed between you as emotions grew with every day.

He was different to any man you had ever been involved with and, whilst your involvement with each other stemmed from purely sexual lust and hunger, you had evolved from this to something different entirely within a matter of days.

Of course, you knew each other for years and, whilst you had a crush on Cillian for as long as you could remember, you never thought that it would be like this and, for Cillian, this feeling had never been mutual.

Whilst he always considered you to be attractive and very intelligent and kind, he never felt any emotional connection or sexual attraction towards you, at least not until that weekend when you visited Denise, which was also the first time he saw you again after six months had passed.

On that night during which you slept with each other, he let his sexual hunger take over his reasonable thinking mind after he saw you, in his kitchen, making pancakes and you had since, quite openly, talked about it. He saw sleeping with you as a mistake but, ever since that night, he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For you, things weren’t just sexual anymore and you began to feel strongly for Cillian which worried you especially since he was open about the fact that he didn’t know where things were heading with you. The fact that you are his daughter’s friend and much younger than him clearly bothered him and he sometimes admitted to you that he felt strange about building such a strong connection with you. A relationship was not what he wanted but he liked you, a lot.

As such, during the past week, Cillian called you every day after he finished filming and you were talking to him more frequently than you were talking to Denise.

During his breaks, he would also text you and check in on you as you were in the middle of exams. He always remembered when you had a test and asked you how it went and, when you told him that you didn’t feel confident with your results, he reassured you that you probably did well and, even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. According to him, a pass is a pass and you needed to lower your expectations of yourself just a little.

To your surprise, he also remembered appointments you had scheduled and things that bothered you which meant that, unlike other men you had been with, he was actually listening and was interested in what you had to say.

Some nights, you had spent hours on the phone or Skype, joking about things you had encountered that day or talking about books, literature and music, which is something you both enjoyed.

Politics and social issues were other matters you could discuss endlessly and, even when you were of different opinions, you would be able to argue in the most satisfying way. Cillian always treated you as an equal and even opened up to you about his divorce from Denise’s mother recently.

Another thing you learned from Cillian was that Denise was brining along her friend Amalie to Manchester to stay at his apartment and, when you gave him a warning about her and her intentions, he reminded you that he only had eyes for you. In fact, he always showered you with compliments and all of his compliments were genuine and came natural to him, helping you immensely with your self-consciousness.

Unfortunately, whilst you enjoyed how engaging Cillian was with you every day, like a teenager in love, with the constant text messages and calls, your father soon got suspicious and confronted you about.

****

“Dad, I am almost 22, you don’t need to be spying on me” you said somewhat frustrated as he asked you who you were talking to every day.

“You live under my roof and you answer me young lady” he said harshly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just as your mother stepped in, trying to calm him down. Your father was much older, approaching sixty and fairly old school in the way he expected you and your sister to behave.

“A friend…I am talking to a friend” you explained and your father asked again, telling you not to lie to him because he would know.

“And this friend of yours, you can’t meet him…you just text and talk? You can’t bring him to our house and introduce him?” your father asked along with a million other questions.

“No, I can’t. he lives in Dublin and I, most certainly, wouldn’t bring him into this…” you said somewhat irritated by the interrogation.

“Dublin, huh? So, you met him when you visited Denise?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s not her brother, is it? Because I really don’t want you to get involved with him. I don’t like this family and their views” your father said harshly, causing you to chuckle.

“Their views?” you asked somewhat surprised and your father nodded.

“Yes, their views on what’s right and wrong. If I recall correctly, this girl you call your friend was going out with someone of the same gender for a while. God didn’t tell us to do this but her parents obviously didn’t have an issue with it which, apparently is called new age parenting. Everything is pro choice and lets their children decide what is best for them even if they lack experience” your father went on to say and you couldn’t help but shake your head at his absurd commentary but, he continued and you soon learned what had happened between your parents and Denise’s parents many years ago, before which your mother had called Denise’s mother her friend as well.

According to your father, Cillian had voiced his opinion to your father when it was found out that your sister was pregnant following a short affair with a man she had met through university.

Cillian’s ex wife had told your sister that she had options, causing your father to get rather angry with her, which is when Cillian stepped in, supporting what Denise’s mother had said.

She had offered your sister help but your father considered this to be a betrayal and, whilst your mother maintained contact with Denise’s mother for a while, your father refused to get involved with Denise’s family thereafter.

Cillian’s often all so public views angered him and he made this very clear. He didn’t want you to be involved with his children and you couldn’t help but laugh about the irony of it all when you found out about this incident.

“Jesus Dad, that was years ago and not everyone has to have the same views as you” you said before confirming that you weren’t seeing Denise’s brother.

“No, they don’t, but I am just looking out for you and, instead of acting the way you do, throwing yourself at guys with new age ideas, I would much prefer if you met a nice young catholic man” your father explained, causing your mother to fume in anger with him.

“Throwing myself at guys? Listen, I am not sure what slut you think I am but it’s nice to know that you think so little of me” you said before storming upstairs and into your room.

Having to deal with this crap bothered you and you knew that, when this semester came to an end, you could be moving out now that you saved enough money for a bond and rent.

*****

As the evening went on, you spent all of your time in your room, reading a book until, finally, at around 9 o’clock you saw a notification on Skype.

‘Hey Beautiful’ Cillian said as you picked up and popped in your headphones.

Cillian apologised for calling through so late and informed you that he was finally able to speak to Laura, the woman he was seeing before you.

He knew that you wanted to know about it and he had no problem telling you what you needed to hear while telling you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about.

It was Laura’s first day back on set after a week-long break and Cillian told you that she wasn’t exactly impressed when he stood her down.

‘She probably likes you…I can understand that’ you said calmly but Cillian told you that he was pretty clear with her about what this was between them.

‘Well, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her’ he went on and you were quite happy to change the topic by this point and told him that you were aching for him.

‘Well, I am not sure that I can help you with that’ Cillian chuckled.

‘We could have Skype sex I suppose’ you giggled.

‘Skype Sex?’ Cillian laughed before telling you that he didn’t think that this would be a good idea since you were at home with your parents and you had previously complained about the thin walls of the house.

‘Oh Jesus Cillian, my father already thinks I am a slut, so I personally don’t care if anyone hears me getting myself off. I’ve got my earphones in and am the only one who can hear you and my door is locked’ you chuckled.

‘Your father thinks that you are a slut? Do you want to talk about that?’ Cillian asked concerned but you shook your head.

‘I rather not. You met him and know what he is like’ you explained.

‘I do. He takes God very seriously’ Cillian said before continuing on. ‘But, if you have problems at home you need to tell me please. You can stay at my apartment. I can get my house keeper to meet you there with the key’ he offered.

‘You said you were going to stay out of stuff between me and my parents just as I would stay out of matters between you and Denise’ you then said, reminding him on the conversation about your respective roles which you had three days ago.

‘Yes I did, but I can’t if I have to worry about you’ Cillian said firmly.

‘There is no need to worry Cillian. I promise’ you reassured him. ‘Well, actually, I need you to worry about my sexual needs right now’ you then went on to say with sly grin.

‘Through Skype?’ Cillian asked again somewhat concerned.

‘Yes’ you said with a cheeky smile as you settled more into your bed with your laptop.

‘Alright then, show me what you are wearing” Cillian said as he cut straight to the point.

‘Can you see?’ you asked as you adjusted the cam and showed Cillian your dark blue lingerie.

‘Very nice…but…I think you would look even better if you were naked, don’t you think?’ Cillian said somewhat nervously and you nodded in agreement.

‘Well, I suppose I should strip for you and you should strip for me’ you giggled as you seductively took off your bra slowly, showing Cillian your perky breasts through the camera.

You heard him inhale sharply as he watched you and took his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving him in nothing but his CK briefs.

Without words you then scooted back on the bed and removed your undies, allowing him to watch before you sat down on the bed, spread eagle and naked, giving him a good view of your mound.

‘Jesus Y/N, you are so fucking beautiful and sexy…touch yourself for me, nice and slow’ Cillian breathed out and you let his soothing voice wash over you, knowing what he was trying to do and happily helping him succeed.

‘Like this?’ you moaned as you began to run circles over your clit with your fingers.

‘Yes, just like that babe’ Cillian groaned as he shuffled down his briefs and you were finally getting a good look of his hard cock.

‘Oh god, I want to stroke your cock so badly’ you moaned as you seductively opened your pussy lips with your fingers, opening yourself up before reaching for the black vibrator you kept in your bedside table.

‘Well, someone's particularly horny tonight’ Cillian chuckled as he watched you play with your pussy, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You mumbled a small "mhm," and he laughed.

‘Good, that's exactly how I like you, so naughty and needy’ Cillian said as he slowly began to stroke his hard member.

You barely registered his words enough to answer with another "mhm," but your subconscious managed it. Your weak answer elicited another delicious chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Why don't you show me how this little toy of yours works?” Cillian then asked as he watched you eagerly.

“I was just waiting for you to ask” you giggled as you began to run your fingers along your stomach and back up to your chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps their wake before reaching for the vibrator and turning it on.

“Put into your sweet pussy babe, let me see it” Cillian groaned and you moan in response, barely processing his words but still understanding enough to answer and do what he asked.

"I bet your pussy is already dripping” he said as you slid the vibrator into you slowly. He was right, you could feel your wetness pooling.

“I am so fucking wet and I wish it would be your cock inside me” you moaned as you began to stroke the toy in and out of you.

Cillian was groaning on the other side, his eyes full of lust and desire for you and you let out a quiet moan as you watched him with the same desire and hunger while you were pleasuring yourself.

“Good girl, keep going…” Cillian tells you and you moan again hearing it.

“Tell me how much you are aching for my cock” he then said you moaned again.

“I want your cock so badly, fuck…I want your cum inside me, dripping out of my wet little pussy” you moaned, eliciting a groan from Cillian as he began to stroke his cock harder and faster.

“Such a naughty needy girl, aren’t you? I can’t wait to be inside you again and make you cum over and over again” Cillian said with a laboured breath and you are barely listening at this point.

��I want you to cum for me and show me this dripping pussy when you do…I fucking love hearing your moans, so fucking sexy…common babe….let go” Cillian said, knowing that you were close and your orgasm rolled over you as soon as the word 'cum' left his lips, and although your sensitive clit was screaming at your hand to stop, you couldn't.

‘Oh god fuck, yes…’ you moaned as you came hard and fast.

“That’s it babe, don’t stop” he instructed as your moans continuously spilled from your mouth, and you were not even sure what you were saying or if you were forming words at all. The only thing in your head is a deliciously heavy fog and Cillian’s voice guiding you to do what he wanted.

“Don’t stop, keep fucking your sweet little pussy babe” Cillian ordered as he knew you weren’t done and, just as he did, you let out a high-pitched moan, bordering on a scream, as an even stronger orgasm washed over your body.

‘Cum for me babe…I want to see all this cum’ you moaned in return, focusing on the delicious image in front of you as Cillian was stroking his cock and, just when you finally come back down you heard Cillian groan loudly.

“Fuck” he groaned as he stroked his cock hard and fast you watched rope after rope of cum spurt onto his stomach.

‘Oh god, what a waste, I want to lick your cum off your skin so badly” you breathed out as Cillian came down from his high slowly and used a tissue to clean himself up.

‘Stop saying those things or you have to stay on the line for another twenty minutes at least’ Cillian chuckled as he could feel his manhood stir again.

‘Well, I think you shouldn’t cum again until you come to visit me in Galway the weekend after next…I want you to save it all for me’ you said, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow as he pulled his briefs back up.

‘Fat chance babe’ he chuckled, knowing that going without an orgasm for nine days would be rather difficult for him.

Eventually, after a lot of begging, he agreed to try but he wouldn’t be able to make you any promises to this effect.

***

The following day, you went to work and then university thereafter but, when you eventually returned home, your father was in a worse mood than ever before.

‘Can you explain this to me?’ he asked angrily as soon as you walked through the door and you couldn’t help but gulp when he pointed to a white box which he had placed on the living room table.

‘You went through my personal belongings’ you huffed out as the box contained some lingerie and intimate items, including toys, that you were hiding in the bottom of your dresser.

‘Again Y/N, this is my house, my rules and I don’t want my daughter to own filth like this’ he said, after having heard small pieces of your conversation with Cillian on Skype the evening before.

It was obvious to you that your father was appalled and you were outraged that he had been snooping through your room and, as you would later learn, had even tried to access your computer.

‘I can’t fucking believe you dad. These are my personal belongings and you have no right to go through them’ you huffed out and, just as you did, you could feel a sharp strike across your face.

‘Get this shit out of my house and talk to me with some respect’ he said harshly, leaving you speechless and in tears as he walked away, leaving your cheek burning red.

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Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s Relationship in Mythology

It’s a classic tale, and arguably one of the most famous in mythology: How Sigyn held a bowl above her lover’s head to shield Loki from the snake’s venom, in turn, holding back Ragnarok a little longer. 

But how did Loki and Sigyn come to be married? How did they meet? How did they fall in love? 

With so many questions, but few answers we are left with in what has survived with the stories today, we are often left to ponder how the story of Loki and Sigyn came to be. As have many others before me, I will be exploring my thoughts with what information we are given to ponder as to how these two lovers became a thing.

To answer this question, we must go back to the beginning where Sigyn was first introduced to us in the mythologies, presenting the ONLY information we know about their relationship -- specifically: The Poetic Edda & Prose Edda.

In the poem, Lokasenna, the most famous of poem’s with the couple, it talks of how Loki has been bound by the gods with the guts of his son, Nari, and how his son, Vari, has been turned into a wolf. The Goddess Skadi fastens a venomous snake over Loki’s face, from which venom drips. Sigyn, stated as Loki’s wife, stays by his side and holds a basin under and catches the venom so it won’t drip onto her husband, but when the basin grows full, she pulls it away to empty it, during which time venom drops onto Loki, causing him to wither so violently that earthquakes occur that shake the entire earth. 

In the poem, Gylfaginning, Sigyn is introduced in Chapter 31 as being married to Loki and that they have a son by the name of “Narfi or Nari”. She is then mentioned again in Chapter 50 where events are described differently than in Lokasenna; Vali, described as a son of Loki only, is changed into a wolf by the gods and rips apart his brother, “Narfi or Nari.” The guts of Nari are then used to tie Loki to three stones, after which the guts turn to iron, and Skadi places a snake above Loki. Sigyn of course catches the venom in a bowl. This process is repeated until he breaks free, setting Ragnarok into motion.

In the poem, Skáldskaparmál, Sigyn is introduced as a goddess, an Æsir, where the gods are holding a feast for their visitors and in kennings for Loki: “husband of Sigyn” and “cargo [Loki] of incantation-fetter’s [Sigyn’s] arms.”  

Now, knowing the little knowledge we have on their relationship, it’s time to explore it from the Viking’s point of view, which is where this all pretty much originated from, in order to understand it better.

Viking Way of Love and Life

I’m no expert in this category, in fact, I’m still learning about it as I go, but there are some important key things to note here about the Viking’s POV on things and how it ties into Loki & Sigyn’s relationship. 

Divorce was completely acceptable in Viking Times. In fact, women could own property, request a divorce and reclaim dowries if a marriage ended. She could divorce him for a good number of reasons actually. 

Women often remained faithful to their husbands, although they were known to have extramarital sex. If they were caught cheating by the husbands, it usually ended pretty badly for the women. 

A Man couldn’t marry his concubine, so his wife wouldn’t have to feel threatened about competition. They usually all lived in the same household. Adultery concerning the husband was okay, but not the wife.

Vikings didn’t categorize people as homosexual, bisexual, straight or etc.They differentiated between submissive and dominant roles in sexual relationships. Homosexuality was acceptable with limits.

Poetry was a big part of Courtship. 

Typically marriage was usually for alliances, set up by families and parents. However, this doesn’t mean there wasn’t romance or love between couples or potential marriages. 

Family life was important to Norse Men and people usually aimed to survive: typically by marrying and having children. 

How does this apply to Loki and Sigyn? Now, let’s dive into the typical hypothesis of their relationship. I call it a typical hypothesis because it hasn’t really been outright pointed out in the mythologies, but it’s something the Mythology community usually agrees on concerning Loki and Sigyn’s relationship from what we know here.

A Hypothesis into Loki & Sigyn’s Marriage

The marriage between the two of them alone is usually questioned by others, especially concerning Loki’s chaotic nature and Sigyn’s undying loyalty. Obviously, she could have divorced him whenever she wanted to if things were bad, but instead she remains by his side which leads us to the fact, not only does she truly love Loki, but she also knows more to him than we do -- as if there is a secret hidden side to the god of Mischief.

It is sometimes implied that the marriage between Loki and Sigyn was an arranged one to establish position in Asgard  -- as marriages typically were in Viking Times. This doesn’t mean there wasn’t love between them, In fact, it could have been a perfectly arranged marriage. 

Sigyn isn’t blind to Loki’s flaws, knowing perfectly well how her lover is and accepting him flaws and all -- unlike the other gods. It’s more than likely she knows about his other children: Jormungandr, Sleipnir, Hel and Fenrir, just as she probably knows about his affair with Angrboda. Again, this wasn’t an uncommon thing in Viking Times for a man to have another lover and other children with them. 

Loki is very much a family person, just as he enjoys having fun. There has never been anything alluding to him abandoning his family or abusing Sigyn and his kids despite what pop culture or other versions may say. Instead, they have been taken away from him by others in someway (ex: Vali having to kill Narvi as the gods use his insides as Loki’s bindings. Odin taking away all of Loki’s children, making Hel the ruler of the underworld, Jory the serpent of Midgard’s sea and Fenrir locked in bonds. Lets also not forget Sleipnir becoming Odin’s horse and most of his children dying during Ragnarok because of said gods. Sigyn’s whereabouts are unknown and Angrboda is dead. Case in point: I’d wanna start Ragnarok too.) 

Vikings typically used motifs or symbolism with their writings. This is where the “opposites attract/compliment each other aka Balance of nature’ comes into play. While Loki is outright known as a Trickster God, hence the God of Mischief (which is typically harmless pranks or fun), but it usually ends with bad results for him, turning into Chaos. And what’s the opposite of Chaos? Constancy and Order. Although it isn’t outright stated, she is pointed out as Loki’s loyal wife and seems to offer that Constancy to his Chaos. Hence, some of us refer to them as “Different Sides of the Same Coin.” 

Conclusion

Loki and Sigyn’s relationship is typically misunderstood by others nowadays thanks to how little information we have on them in the texts, some peoples own interpretations of their relationship (*coughs* MARVEL COMICS *coughs*) and how much Sigyn still remains to be unknown by others. 

I believe that if their relationship was to be portrayed in the proper way, taking everything here into note and not given to writers who don’t understand or refuse to take the time to understand their relationships/characters, they might actually be understood better overall. A good example of this I’ve found myself is from the German Movie: Mara and the Firebringer and Neil Gaiman’s book: Norse Mythology. They both explore Loki and Sigyn’s relationship in a proper light, not undermining either of them and exploring their thought process and actions in ways that only strength their relationship and one another as individual characters bonded together in marriage. 

Bonus mention to The Bifrost Incident by The Mechanisms for their interpretation of Loki and Sigyn’s relationship as well. 

_____________________________________________________________

SOURCES:

Viking Love: 8 Facts about Love and Love making from the Vikings - https://historycollection.com/eight-facts-love-marriage-viking-style/

The Love Life of the Vikings - https://historyofyesterday.com/love-life-of-vikings-f21c9ed58d4e

Norse Mythology Character Tropes - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Characters/NorseMythology

Mara and the Firebringer TV Tropes (SPOILERS BEWARE) - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Film/MaraAndTheFirebringer

Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology (Book) - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norse_Mythology_(book)

The respective Edda’s are linked above by their names. 

Review of 17x14 “Look Up Child”

It has been three years since I wrote my last review of a Grey’s Anatomy episode.  After Sarah left, I stepped away from my fan accounts and did not plan on ever looking back.  Somehow though, through the dedication of our captains and the strength of the Japril fandom, we got one more episode that confirmed what we have known all along – Japril is forever.  

The episode opens to Jackson driving through a storm and we can see in his eyes that he is fighting an internal storm as well.  He winces at his injured hand while his mind flashes through thoughts of holding Harriet with April for the first time, the pain of watching April marry Matthew, and meeting his dad.  These moments, along with many others have led Jackson yearning for more out of life, and so he returns to Montana hopeful he will find answers there.

The last thing Robert Avery expects, for a second time, is to find the son he left behind standing in the doorway of his restaurant.  

“Everybody alive?” Robert asks.

Jackson making this journey again, after the way they left things before, could only be for one reason in Robert’s mind.  Jackson reassures him that is not the reason he came, and Robert relaxes easily into his friendly charm, offering coffee and a place for Jackson to “take a load off.”  He has no idea of the “load” Jackson truly bears.

Robert is awaiting the arrival of his co-worker so they can deliver pre-packaged meals to families in need in their community.  This gesture may seem small, but to Jackson, this is a subtle sign that he on the right path.  There is more he can do than what he has found within the walls of Grey-Sloan Memorial. Their small talk is awkward, and Jackson wants to get right to what he came for – answers.  Robert has other ideas.  There are sandwiches to be made and they can talk while they work.

After following Robert to the porch, Jackson realizes this sandwich-making process is going to be more time-consuming than he thought.  And so is getting the answers he came for.  He reiterates to Robert that he doesn’t want anything from him – not turkey, not coffee – just answers.

Jackson presses his dad for information about why he left the foundation, the problems he saw with it, and Catherine’s perspective on it all while Robert deflects the questions with vague answers and praise of the ham and turkey sandwich.  Robert is not ready to answer these questions because answering them would mean dealing with the memories of the past and the regret he carries.  So instead, he smiles kindly and puts Jackson in charge of the meat slicer, which leads to the first moment in Jackson’s life where his dad taught him how to do something. (Although we all know he didn’t teach him well!) This interaction allows Jackson to let his guard down just slightly and they find they have some common views on the Avery name, money, and pressure that comes with it all.  Jackson tries some of Robert’s “best in the state” turkey and Robert opens up about his own shame and abandonment by his father. It seems pain runs through generations of Avery men.

Maybe it is that realization, or the cup of Robert’s coffee in his hand, that makes Jackson relax enough to begin opening up.  He shares his desire to do more to change the system has seen fail so many people.  He isn’t even sure if he can, but he knows he feels compelled to try.  Robert agrees that people should do what makes them happy.  He did and he “never looks back.”

But Jackson does.  He can’t stop looking back and wondering why his dad was absent from every moment that mattered.  

“I realize that it’s really messed me up…pretty badly. And, um, it just made it hard to maintain relationships and stuff.  Having this inclination to run away all the time.  And I know, I know, running away doesn’t actually solve anything.  I know that. So…and I’ve tried.  I’ve tried really hard to rid myself of the shame and the pain that comes with all that, and uh, you know just kind of doubled-down on being the best at everything – the best father I could possibly be.  I probably stayed in my marriage longer than I should have, went along with foundation business longer than I should have, but no matter what, when it gets rough I just end up right there, running into the woods trying to fight the you in me.”

What begins as a tearful explanation builds to all of Jackson’s pent-up emotions overflowing at his dad.  He is distracted and emotional, cutting his hand on the slicer with blood pouring out, while his heart pours out at the same time.  

Robert tends to Jackson’s injury, and they both feel it is a simple gesture that holds more weight than they know what to do with.  Robert tries to make light of the situation by joking about a family practice, but it is the idea of them as family that sends Jackson to find fresh air on the porch. It is here where Robert finally answers Jackson’s question of “Why?”

Running is what Robert does when things get too difficult, and that is what makes Jackson so afraid. He feels the same pull.  Just before he cut his hand, he was running down the long list of things he feels he has done wrong. Does he truly believe he stayed in his marriage too long?  No. But to Jackson that is just one more way he is like his dad.  He is so messed up by the fear of turning into Robert that he breaks things off before they get too difficult, before he gets to the point Robert did.  If he can maintain a safe distance to the important things in his life, he won’t lose them and he won’t be like Robert.  “My divorce…maybe that would have been a good time for you to step in and share some wisdom.”  This isn’t who Jackson wants to be, but he is too scared of moving in either direction – scared of moving both toward or away from the things that matter, like April.  So instead, he suffers in an ambiguous middle ground.  One where he hasn’t completely abandoned anyone or anything and one where he hasn’t fully committed to anything either.  It is a balance he has tried to find for years, but it is also what is breaking him now.  

Truth be told, even Robert cannot fully run from what matters.  From his cabin in the woods, he admits that everyday he regrets leaving, and he buys gifts for a little girl he has never met in hopes that one day he will.

“You’re not a runner. If you were, you’d have been long gone by now…you have it in your soul to do the right thing.  To makes things right.  And you didn’t just fix a disaster, you made it better…on your worst day, you are ten times the man I am.”

And it is with those words Jackson makes his decision.  He is going to do the right thing.  He is going to take what seems like a disaster and make it better.

Arriving back in Seattle, Jackson goes straight to the people who matter most.  

Catherine is his first stop. He needs her blessing to take over the foundation.  Their money and influence can make life better for all people by bringing justice and equity to medicine and build a better future for Harriet.  Catherine’s Mama-heart breaks a little to see him go, but she cannot deny how proud of him she is.

With the rain still coming down, Jackson rings April’s doorbell and stresses over how he is going to approach asking her to move across the country for him.  How can he explain to her that this is not impulsive, this is not something he is doing on a whim?  

Yet, when the door opens, all his insecurities are quickly forgotten because seeing April only reminds him of why they have always been each other’s person and how she has always trusted him no matter what.  She trusted him the night of the boards with her heart and virginity, she trusted him with the decision to induce her pregnancy with Samuel to stop his pain, and she trusted him to run away from her wedding and the life she thought she was supposed to have.  But this is different.  So much has changed in the past few years.  Would she trust him now?

Jackson will have to wait to find out, though, because April is frantic.  Harriet is sick and April cannot get her fever down.  Jackson sees how stressed she is and immediately gives April what she needs.  He takes Harriet into her arms, both consoling her and helping April calm down and have a moment to breathe.  They fall into their usual banter and affectionate teasing.

Their conversations and interactions throughout the episode give us small glimpses of what we should have had the past several years had their story been written they way it should have been.  They naturally fall into their place as the loving, concerned parents unable to sleep while caring for their daughter.  They move through the house and around each other as if this is a familiar dance that they have done hundred times before.

Harriet’s sickness doesn’t seem to be the only thing April is stressed about.  Her living room is strewn with laundry and she quickly tries to clean it up while Jackson reassures her in his “bank voice” that it is fine. Too many pillows, but otherwise, fine. Jackson continues Daddy Duty by dancing with his daughter and April gets a chance to take a much-needed shower…until the storm knocks the power out.

Jackson and April alone at night in a storm, surrounded by candles, is the perfect set-up for an epic reunion, and while they may not have utilized the kitchen counter like we wanted them, too, they did reconnect on a level of clarity and maturity that shows how much they have grown.

There is also that not-so-little issue of Matthew.  Japril fans spotted early on that April was missing a particularly important ring, but it was even more telling when Jackson asked her directly if her and Matthew are happy, and she responded with simply, “We are busy.”  For a marriage that the terrible writing of season 14 wanted us to believe was ordained by God, how sad that you can’t even pretend to be happy. That one line conveyed so much more than what was stated.  It was clear from that point that Matthew and April’s marriage was over.

April is not the only one beating around the bush.  She quickly calls Jackson out on his “cagey” behavior of commenting on her exposed brick instead of saying why he actually showed up at her house late at night in the middle of a storm.  She can read him so well she knows there is something more, which is when we finally find out his plan – he is going to take over the Avery Foundation. The catch is, that means Jackson, as well as April and her family, have to move to Boston.

April responds by questioning if this is what Jackson actually wants because it never was before.  Is he going to move to Boston and then fail or regret his decision?  And while this seems unsupportive and harsh, April has to ask these questions because, as we find out later, that is exactly what happened to her.  She thought she was choosing the right path by marrying Matthew, but not only has their marriage failed, she regrets that they even tried. But Jackson doesn’t know this yet, so to defend his decision he uses Matthew proposing to April as an example of how he unconditionally supported her which not only hints at Jackson’s jealousy, but reinforces April’s fear that making a decision this big may not be the best choice.  She sees happiness for Jackson in the safe choice.  He can continue to rebuild faces, give little boy’s hands, and help people breathe again.  Maybe if she can convince him to stay with what he knows he won’t feel the hurt she is feeling right now. “Why would you want to give all that up?”

Jackson knows he can do all of that and more in Boston.  He can make a positive change in medicine, April can continue her work with the homeless, and Matthew will just follow because it is April, and that is the one reason Jackson likes him.  “He is gonna want to follow you anywhere.”  Jackson understands the urge to follow April anywhere.  The night continues with wine, snacks, and comfortable conversation but they don’t come to an agreement on what their future holds.

The storm breaks and morning comes.  Jackson, recognizing that April has been overwhelmed lets her sleep in, and she wakes up to the sounds of Harriet and Jackson happily eating breakfast and we get a glimpse of their happy, family mornings that we all know Boston will bring.  The three of them laugh and talk over pancakes, orange juice, and throw pillows and April admits that she should have been more supportive of Jackson’s plans.  If only they could get their timing right.  

The morning has brought with it clarity for April and she tells Jackson her answer is yes.  Yes, she believes he is “that guy.” Yes, she believes this could work.  Yes, they are going to Boston.  Shocked and surprised, Jackson offers to help talk to Matthew, but we find out that won’t be necessary.  As most of us suspected, the marriage that should have never happened is over.  One of the best lines of the episode is the slight dig that the writers (Sarah/Jesse?) took at the ridiculous story of April marrying Matthew.  “We kept trying to tell ourselves that our whole winding road was God’s plan to bring us back together.  But he was still so angry and hurt.  I mean, I left him at the altar and his wife died.  You know, you don’t just stop feeling hurt ‘cause it’s a better story if God brought us together in our pain.”  Enough said. And as much as we are not sad to see Matthew go, April is hurting, and Jackson recognizes that.  He takes her hand in a small gesture of comfort because he never wants to see her in pain.  (Thank you, Jesse, for improvising that.)  He gave her a reason to smile again.  Their family has a fresh start ahead in Boston.  

The episode closes with Harriet calling out for “Mommy and Daddy” as Jackson pulls April into a hug before leaving to prepare for their move, and April folds perfectly into his arms where she is supposed to be.  Fingers crossed for new horizons.  Maybe they finally did get their timing right.

Suptober 05: Nostalgia

Title: Ten Years Later

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Words: 2758

AO3 Link.

When Dean saw Castiel again, it all came back to him. Like a movie reel playing in his mind. God, how long had it been? Ten years? They’d been eighteen the last time they’d talked. Suddenly, all Dean could think about was those long Kansas summers on the bed of Castiel’s pickup truck, stargazing. The many meals they shared together at Judy’s diner. And the one time they’d kissed, the night before Castiel moved away to New York for college.

The kiss had been a surprise to Dean, but a good one. A great one. They’d been friends since they were kids, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn’t harbored feelings for Castiel. But he didn’t think they’d ever cross that line, no matter how much Dean wanted to. It was Castiel who had snuck into Dean’s bedroom window at midnight, wanting to say goodbye before his morning flight.

Dean hated goodbyes. He’d been hoping they could skip theirs. But Castiel was stubborn, and he refused to leave without a proper one. So, he’d showed up, and they’d sat on Dean’s bed for a while, just talking about their hopes for the future. Castiel wanted to be a prosecutor. He had big dreams. Dean? He wanted to teach high school. English, because he loved Vonnegut. But Dean wasn’t going to move away from home. He was staying put. He’d realized that this was probably the last time he’d ever see Castiel. They’d promised they’d stay in touch, but Dean knew how these things worked. People lost touch eventually. And that was exactly what happened with them.

At first, they’d kept in touch during college. Their calls decreased after the first two years, and by the fourth year, Dean only got an email to congratulate him on graduating, and Dean replied to congratulate Castiel in return. When Dean got a job at Lawrence High School, Castiel was just a nice memory from his past. Dean thought about Castiel often, even though they’d lost touch. Castiel had been important to him, but the long-distance ruined their friendship, and whatever could have been between them.

Dean had gone on to date many women and men, and he assumed Castiel had done the same. His life was good in Kansas. Quiet, and sometimes lonely, but good. Seeing Castiel at Judy’s diner now, though, made Dean feel like something was definitely missing in his life. Maybe it was his old friend.

Castiel hadn’t seen Dean yet. He was sitting at a booth by the window, alone. Dean was sitting a few booths over. From here, he could see the back of Castiel’s head. His hair was dark and messy, like always. But he was older now. He had a five o’clock shadow that made him look scruffy. It suited him. Dean wondered if he should go up to him, start up a conversation, see if Castiel still remembered him. How long had it been since they last spoke? Four, five years? Yeah, it had been about that long. Dean still remembered that final email, the one he never replied to.

Hello, Dean,

It’s good to hear you’re still teaching. I’ve been doing well at work myself. I made partner. You should come up to New York and visit me one of these days. I miss you.

Castiel.

Dean hadn’t thought the offer was serious. And even if it was, Dean didn’t want to disrupt Castiel’s life in New York. He assumed he was dating someone, since Dean had been dating Lisa at the time. Besides, Dean wouldn’t get on a plane even if someone paid him to. He had considered taking a road trip in his trusty Impala, but he never dared to do it. Too much time had passed, anyway.

A few minutes went by, and Dean had done nothing but reminisce about the past from his seat, memorizing the back of Castiel’s head. He sipped his sweet tea and then brushed his lower lip with the tip of his thumb. Castiel hadn’t been his first kiss, but he had been the first kiss he most remembered. Sparks flew the moment their lips touched. They’d kissed on Dean’s bed for what felt like a small eternity, and then Castiel smiled and whispered goodbye before he slipped out of his bedroom window.

Dean knew that if he went up to Castiel that night, he’d give up that perfect goodbye as his last face-to-face memory with his friend. But curiosity was killing him. He wanted to know what Castiel was doing back in town all these years later. He wanted to know if he’d even thought about paying Dean a visit while he was here.

So, with a final sip of his tea, Dean worked up the courage to get up, and approach Castiel at his booth. Dean couldn’t believe how sweaty his hands were. Hell, he was so nervous he could barely get any words out.

Dean cleared his throat. “You’re back.”

Castiel, who had been looking out the window, immediately turned to look at him. His eyes were just as piercing and blue as Dean remembered. The grin that he gave Dean lit up the entire room. “Oh my God, Dean.” He was out of his seat in no time, pulling Dean into his arms, squeezing him tight.

Dean hugged Castiel back, ruffling his hair before he pulled away. “You mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Have a seat. Are you hungry? I just ordered a burger. I’ve never been able to find a burger just as good in all my time away.”

“I’ll eat with you. I got here a few minutes before you did.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck before slipping into the seat across from Castiel. “I noticed you come in, but you didn’t see me.”

Castiel shook his head, still grinning. “No, I was starving. I didn’t pay much attention to anything other than the menu.” He chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re here. I just arrived in town. If I wasn’t so hungry, I would have stopped to visit you first.”

“You don’t know where I live, do you?”

Castiel blushed, looking down slightly before his gaze met Dean’s again. “I reached out to Sam before my flight here and asked for your address. I wanted to surprise you.”

Dean couldn’t believe that. So, Castiel did still remember him enough to want to visit him. “You did? Well, consider me surprised, Cas. I didn’t expect to see you here of all places. Not after all these years.”

Castiel leaned forward. “Well, since you never visited me, I figured I should visit you.”

Dean felt suddenly guilty for having ignored Castiel’s last email. Maybe he had been serious about Dean visiting him. Maybe Dean should have taken that road trip after all. “Well, you’re here now. Tell me, what’s new with you? What have you been up to all these years?”

Castiel hesitated. “I…I got married.”

Dean’s stomach sunk at the news, but he kept his smile in place. “When?”

“A few years ago. Her name is Daphne.”

Dean nodded, knowing his smile must look as fake as it was. “Where is she?”

“She’s in New York.” Castiel sighed. “We’re getting divorced.”

“Oh.” Dean didn’t realize how much the news had hit him until he could finally breathe again. “I’m sorry.”

Castiel waved a hand. “Don’t be. That marriage was doomed from the start.” He chuckled. “We actually got married in Vegas when I was there on a work trip. We’d been dating for a few months, and I had invited her along. One thing led to another, we got drunk, and I proposed to her. It was so stupid. I’m surprised we stayed married this long. But now that that chapter of my life is over, I felt I needed a change of scenery.”

“And now you’re here.”

Castiel nodded. “And now I’m here.” His eyes skimmed Dean up and down. “I have to say, you look really good, Dean. What’s new with you? I haven’t heard from you in so long.”

“I know. Sorry about that. I guess I’m the one who stopped answering emails.”

“Yeah, you were,” Castiel said, and Dean didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice.

At that time, Castiel’s burger arrived, and Dean placed his order, even though he wasn’t really hungry anymore.

“I’ll wait for you to eat,” Castiel said.

“But you’re hungry. Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

Dean chuckled. “I’m sure. Have at it.”

Castiel took a bite of his burger, licking his lips afterwards. Dean didn’t miss the action. “What about you, Dean? Are you seeing anybody?”

Dean sighed. “No, I’m very single at the moment.”

Castiel wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Good to know.”

“Is it?” Was Castiel still interested in Dean? The thought made Dean’s heart thump harder than ever before.

“Yes, it’s good to know more about you. I want to catch up. Tell me everything.”

So, Dean told Castiel about his life. He talked in length about how much he loved his job, and the road trips he’d been on, and the new friends he’d made. Castiel listened intently, only interrupting when he wanted more information. Dean even told Castiel about some of the more serious relationships he’d been in, and it wasn’t awkward at all.

“Anyway, I’ve rambled on way too long now,” Dean said. “You didn’t get to say much.”

Castiel smiled. “I like listening to you speak.”

Dean shifted on his seat. “What are you doing after this? We could go out for beers, if you have time.”

Castiel sipped his drink. “I don’t have anything going on. I’m all yours.”

Well, Dean liked the sound of that.

After paying for the tab—Castiel’s treat—they went to the Roadhouse for beers. They were immediately greeted by Ellen, who hugged Castiel and offered him a free beer.

“Why don’t I get a free beer?” Dean asked. “I thought you liked me, Ellen.”

“’Cause you haven’t disappeared for ten years,” Ellen said. “When you do, come claim your free beer.”

“Thank you, Ellen,” Castiel said, taking his beer.

Dean rolled his eyes, pulling Castiel to an empty table. “You’re back for one day and you’re already everyone’s favorite.”

Castiel laughed. “Hey, don’t be jealous just because I’m charming.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey, remember that time when we stole your dad’s six pack and drank it in my basement?”

Castiel widened his eyes. “Of course I remember. That was both of our first drink.”

Dean nodded, smiling down at his beer. “Yeah, it was. We got a tipsy with those beers.”

Castiel chuckled. “We really couldn’t hold our liquor back then.”

“Those were the days.”

“They were amazing days.” Castiel placed a hand to Dean’s back, sliding it down to the small of his back. It sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. “Do you remember that night we said goodbye, Dean? A million years ago?”

Dean sipped his beer. “How could I forget?”

Castiel leaned closer, his hand never moving. “Did you ever wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t left?”

Dean shrugged. “I’ve wondered all the time, but you did leave, and we can’t change what happened.”

Castiel took another sip of his beer before leaning to whisper in Dean’s ear, “Do you ever think about that kiss?”

Dean looked up at Castiel, meeting his blue gaze. It was warm and inviting. Dean’s heart was racing. “Yeah, Cas, I do.”

“Me too. All the damned time.” Castiel licked his lips. “I always wondered if you still thought about me, as much as I thought about you.” He frowned. “Because, Dean, your silence was loud. I thought you’d simply forgotten me.”

“No, Cas, I didn’t forget you. I could never forget you. I just didn’t think you really wanted me to disrupt your life in New York.”

“Dean, you could never have disrupted my life. I wanted you there, with me. I wanted to see you again.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “You did?”

“Of course I did. I just—I missed you. I can’t believe we didn’t see each other for ten years, Dean. But seeing you again, it’s brought everything back. All the memories, all the…all the feelings.”

Dean swallowed. “Really?”

“Yes,” Castiel breathed. He moved his hand up to Dean’s shoulder. “Tell me, Dean, am I alone in this? Or do you feel the same way too?”

Dean could barely hear Castiel through the pounding in his head from how loud his heart was beating. “I feel the same way too.”

Castiel beamed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Do you want to come back to my place? I’d really like to be alone with you right now.”

“I’d like that too.”

“Then let’s go.”

Castiel downed the rest of his beer, and so did Dean, more for the courage than for anything else. And then Dean drove them back to his place in his Impala. It was a quiet, uneventful drive, except for when Castiel reached over and put a hand on Dean’s thigh and left it there the whole ride. Dean turned to glance at him, giving him a smile.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Dean said. “You. Me. After all these years.”

“No one ever measured up to you, Dean. Not once.”

What was Dean supposed to say to that? “I think I love you.”

Castiel didn’t miss a beat. “I love you too, Dean.”

Dean hit his steering wheel. “God, we wasted so much time.”

“We did, but I’m ready to make up for it now.”

Dean pulled into his driveway and unbuckled his seatbelt, but he didn’t get out of the car. “Before we do this, Cas, we should discuss logistics.”

“What do you mean?”

“You still live in New York, and I still live here. If we do this, if we start something up, we’ll still have the long-distance issue. We didn’t survive it before. What makes you think we’ll survive it this time?”

Castiel squeezed Dean’s thigh. “I’ll move. This city could use a prosecutor, I’m sure.”

Dean widened his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’m serious, Dean. I’ve lived in New York for so long, and I’ve been happy, but there was always something missing. You. It was you. I’m willing to give up everything for you.”

“What if you resent me down the road?”

“How could I? This is my decision, not yours. I chose to come back. I chose to make a move on you. I chose to move here. I chose you. In every way possible.”

“You really know how make me weak in the knees, man.”

Castiel chuckled. “Can we go inside now?”

“Yeah.”

They walked into Dean’s house, and just as Dean was about to show Castiel around, he found himself shoved against his door, hands intertwined with Castiel, who was holding them above Dean’s head.

“I’ve waited to kiss you for ten years,” Castiel whispered, nose brushing Dean’s.

“Me too,” Dean whispered back. “So you better hurry up and do it.”

Castiel smirked before closing the gap between them. The first kiss was chaste, similar to their first kiss a decade ago. But then it picked up speed, urgency, with open mouths and biting teeth. They kissed like they had just discovered how good kissing felt. As soon as Castiel let go of Dean’s hands, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck, drawing him closer. Meanwhile, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, his hands on the small of his back again.

“I remember you so well,” Castiel said against Dean’s lips. “You’re carved in my memory.”

“I’m glad you didn’t forget me.”

Castiel kissed him again, softer this time, but just as passionately. “How could I when you kiss like this?”

“I’m so glad you came back, Cas. And I’m sorry I never went to visit you. If I had known how you felt, I would have done more to stay in touch.”

“How could you not know how I feel about you? As a teenager, all I did was follow you around like a lost puppy. I’m the one who kissed you the first time. I wasn’t going to leave without you knowing how I felt. And I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t know,” Dean said. “I thought the kiss was just a goodbye kiss. I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”

“It meant the world to me, Dean. You mean the world to me.”

Dean kissed his forehead. “Now I know.”

Ok so you just wrote me a gorgeous drabble and here I am wanting more, bc you’re just too good. On my way to the gym this morning I almost crashed my car bc I saw sexy construction workers and was wondering if sometime in the future you would maybe consider ConstructionWorker!Peeta? Maybe Katniss almost crashed her car staring at that ass? Lol sorry for being so needy... 😘

I hope you enjoy @mrspeetamellark, trying to think up a story title and story cover concept right now because I’m liking this Everlark so much.

Thanks for the prompt, doll! <3

_____

“Yes, move that meeting to the afternoon,” Katniss told her sister. “Snow wants to meet about the Gilmore divorce proceedings.”

“Got it,” Prim replied from the speakers of the car. “Where are you?”

“Just turning onto our block,” she informed her. “It looks like they’re finally renovating the building next to the office…”

Katniss’ eyes were suddenly drawn to a figure standing out against the rest of the men gathered at the site. He was leaning against one of the wood slats that surrounded the property, blond and broad wearing a fitted white t-shirt.

Suddenly, his eyes drew up to meet hers.

Azure blue greeted her own steel ones, the man’s mouth widening into a smile, his expression warm and sweet.

Before morphing into panic—

“Holy fuck!”

Katniss swerved just in time to avoid a squirrel crossing the street and just barely maneuvering her car from crashing into a tree. She managed to save face, making the turn into her office’s parking garage and then into her assigned space.

“Are you alright?” Prim called out. “For a moment there, I thought I lost you.”

Katniss turned off the engine, taking in a calming breath.

“I’m fine. I’ll be up in a minute,” she responded before hanging up.

This is what she got for even looking at a man. It was a sign from the gods telling her to focus on work and not on her lack of a social life.

Too bad, though. The man was awfully cute.

++++++

“Peeta!” Turning, Peeta found Finnick—one of the other construction workers and his childhood friend—heading towards him. “Your dad said that we could take our lunches now.”

“Fine with me,” Peeta agreed, pulling off his construction helmet and tucking it under his arm.

The two headed down the street, grabbing some sandwiches from a nearby deli before heading back.

“So,” Finnick began, as they sat down at the tables set-up in front on the construction site. “I saw that your lady almost damn near crashed into a tree this morning.”

“She isn’t my lady,” Peeta muttered, unwrapping his sandwich to avoid his friend’s teasing eyes. “She’s just a beautiful woman who I happen to admire—who would never look at someone like me.”

“She did notice!” his friend exclaimed. “That close call happened because she was looking at you. Maybe you should go over to her office building and introduce yourself, ask if she’s okay—”

“No, no, no…” Peeta shook his head. “She’s high class and I am…me.”

“Peeta—” Finnick looked to him in concern. “You are a good guy. Stop being so hard on yourself. Just because one woman couldn’t look past your circumstances, doesn’t mean they all will.” His friend’s sea-green eyes darted behind him. “In fact, I’m going to help you out—”

Sticking his middle and index fingers into his mouth, Finnick let out a loud whistle.

“What are you doing?” Peeta asked in confusion.

His friend ignored him, looking behind Peeta and pointing at him.

Then, he was being yanked by the forearm from his seat and being slammed against one of the wood slats of their construction site.

Up close, her eyes were smoky and full of fire—because she was pissed.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded. “I am not the kind of woman who needs to get whistled at to feel like she’s hot. In fact, it’s downright demeaning! If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was introduce yourself like a normal person—”

“Wait!” She stepped back, but her grip on the front of Peeta’s shirt didn’t let up. “I never whistled at you. It was my friend; the idiot with the red hair who is currently trying to skulk back into our construction site, so you won’t manhandle him like you’re doing to me.”

The woman turned just in time to see Finnick guiltily rush into the construction site.

She immediately released her grasp, her olive complexion flushing scarlet.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The woman let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just been a hell of a day so far. I almost crashed my car this morning—” Her grey eyes widened. “It’s you!”

He held out his hand to her. “Peeta Mellark.”

She took it and Peeta let his thumb brush against her rich skin. “Katniss Everdeen.”

“Now that we’ve officially met,” he started. “Are you okay? It was a close call this morning.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “It’s just been so busy with meetings and I have to go grab lunch—”

“Split my sandwich with me,” he offered. Peeta nodded at the still wrapped sandwich on the now empty table. “Or I’m pretty sure there are few birds that would be happy to take your half.”

Katniss flushed. “You sure?”

“I insist.” He led her towards the table, pulling out a chair for her. After sitting, he pulled one of the wrapped pieces out and handed it to her. “Turkey and provolone, no tomatoes.”

“That is my exact order at Sae’s Deli!” Katniss said as she unwrapped her half.

Peeta grinned. “It’s where I got it.”

“So—” She placed her sandwich down and turned to him. Peeta examined her, perfect posture, a heart-shaped face, and smooth shoulder-length waves greeted his appreciative eyes. “—why did your friend whistle at me?”

Peeta let out a breath.

“The first time I came by to examine this construction site, you came to your office,” he explained. “You were wearing a red romper and your hair was in a braid. You were about the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Ever since, I guess I just looked out for you. Finnick just happened to notice and thought he could help things along…”

Peeta waited for her to recoil or grimace. It sounded pathetic, the way he always made sure to look out for her black BMW in the mornings. However, to him, it was just not a good day if he didn’t see her lovely face, even if it was just through her car window.

“Did you want to have dinner?”

He turned to her, his jaw dropping. “What?”

Katniss blushed, her eyes going to her lap.

“I think you’re cute and I almost crashed my car looking at you,” she revealed slowly. “And it seems like a sign that we should look into whatever this is. Also—” Her eyes met his, glowing brightly. “No one has ever called me beautiful.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said softly. “I would love to have dinner with you. You have to let me pay, though.”

“Is that some sort of manly-man bullshit?” she retorted with a grin.

“No, my mother would kill me if she found out that I didn’t pay on the first date,” Peeta explained. “She’d think that it would be a horrible start to our epic love story.”

“I like your mom already,” Katniss told him. “How’s six sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Katniss!”

They turned to find a pretty blonde and a dark-haired woman with a squared gaze approaching.

“My sister and one of my associates,” Katniss told him. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small case and taking out a business card. “My cell number is on it—text me when you can, and we can go over details for tonight.”

“Sure,” he replied in a daze.

Taking her sandwich—they both had foregone eating—Katniss stood, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek and giving him a breathtaking smile.

“I’m looking forward to tonight.”

+++++++

Over texts, Katniss and Peeta decided to meet at an Italian restaurant close to her apartment.

“I can’t believe you asked that guy out!” Johanna, her roommate and one of the other lawyers in the firm, said from her seat on Katniss’ bed. “You, who won’t even agree to coffee when any other man offers, asked a construction worker out to dinner.”

“He’s not just a construction worker,” Katniss protested. “He’s Peeta Mellark, a guy who I think is really nice and easy to talk to—”

“And let’s not forget the ass,” came a shout from Prim, who was searching in Katniss’ walk-in closet. “Don’t act like you weren’t looking at it when he got up to go back to work, Katniss.” Prim stepped into her bedroom, holding a deep-purple dress with a v-neckline and three-quarter sleeves. “I knew you tried to hide my birthday present! Put this on so he can rip it off you.”

Katniss scowled at her. “Who taught you to talk like that?”

“You did,” Prim retorted with a cheeky grin. “Now, go and get ready. I’ll lay out some underthings for you.”

Katniss headed towards her bathroom.

“Prim, I’m not sure how long it’s been since anyone’s been down there,” Johanna quipped. “You might want to pick something that covers that jungle.”

“I’m on it,” her sister replied as Katniss was about to close the door. “Tonight, we’re just emphasizing her boobs.”

“Good luck with that,” her friend retorted.

++++++

Their dinner was going surprisingly well.

Katniss hadn’t been on a date for almost a year and she had worried over the thought as she walked over to the restaurant

That was until she saw him.

Peeta cleaned up nicely, meeting her in a dark green sweater, fitted jeans, and brown oxfords. In his hand was a single pink peony, which he held out to her after kissing her cheek in greeting.

They both settled at their table, ordering quickly (eggplant parmigiana for her and lasagna for him) before falling right into easy conversation.

Peeta’s family owned the construction company that he worked for though, he was the only family member who worked onsite besides his father. Peeta’s mother worked at the home office as the company’s administrator. He had two brothers, one of which owned his own bakery business and ran it with his wife who had been his high school sweetheart.

“I think you’d like Delly,” he told her. “She’s very down-to-earth which works out perfectly because Rye is all sorts of insane. He’s the kind of guy who will wake up in the middle of the night to make the perfect chocolate cake. Luckily enough, Delly is the kind of girl who will stay up and write out everything he’s done because he’s forgotten by morning.”

“And, your other brother?”

“Runs a small hotel upstate. It’s the perfect place for Christmas,” Peeta said. “Andy and his partner Gale turned the place into one of the top hotels to experience wintertime. It does help that they both have a great sense of style.”

“So, your brother is—”

“Gay as the day is long as he would put it.” Peeta grinned. “He and Gale have been together forever. They’re one of the most stable couples I know.” He met her eyes. “How about you?”

“I grew up about an hour out of the city. My parents were high school sweethearts, married right out of high school. Had me about a year after their wedding and four years after me, Prim was born.”

Katniss stopped for a moment, taking a long sip. This part was always the hardest to explain.

“My father passed away when I was six and Prim was two,” she continued. “My mom brought us here to the city to stay with my Uncle Haymitch while she got back on her feet and find a job. We woke up the next day after arriving at his place and she was gone.”

“Oh God, Katniss—” Peeta reached over, covering her hand with his. “—I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for us. It was probably the best thing she could have done for us,” Katniss told him, her voice still a little thick. She gave him a wet smile. “Feel bad for my Uncle—single guy in his prime having to take on two young girls. Did you know when I got my period, he bought five different types of pads? I know, too much information—”

“I like learning about you, Katniss,” he told her. “Every little bit I’ve learned, I like.”

“I feel the same way.”

It was true. Everything she learned about man before her had only compounded the growing feelings inside her. Peeta was breath of fresh air in her staid routine and every bit of time with him made her feel like she was slowly coming back to life.

Peeta squeezed her hand, she didn’t realize their hands were still pressed together—but she didn’t mind it.

“Go on,” he urged with an eager smile. “Tell me more.”

“When I was in sixth grade, my uncle came for a parent-teacher conference and met my teacher, Effie Trinket. A year later, he married her. She’s great, got me through those tough girl years. She and my Uncle are disgustingly in love.” She snorted, taking a long sip of water. “That’s my odd little family.”

“Have you heard from your mom?” Peeta asked curiously.

Katniss shook her head.

“I don’t have a real desire to. I’m not mad at her anymore, but I can’t say I’d be thrilled to see her again. Prim doesn’t even remember her. She calls Uncle Haymitch and Aunt Effie Mom and Dad.” She sat back, giving him an embarrassed smile. “That was more unloading than I intended for a first date.”

“Honestly, I’ve been watching you for a while,” Peeta revealed. “Finnick is sick to death of hearing me talk about the gorgeous brunette next door. That’s why he whistled at you; it was to save his ears from my own insecurities when it came to you.” His face had gone red. “I know you’re some big-time lawyer and I’m just some guy—”

Katniss shook her head. “You’re not just some guy.”

Peeta grinned. “I hope not.”

After he paid for dinner, they decided to walk to her apartment since it was a warm night.

As they strolled down the block, his hand brushed against hers before carefully grasping her fingers. Katniss took the initiative, entwining their fingers together, and Peeta turned to her, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.

She felt the heat rise up her body, her center twisting at the feel of his rough lips to her skin. She had to wonder how those lips would feel against the rest of her body, specifically between her thighs.

It had been a long time since she had sex.

“Nice place,” Peeta said as they approached the luxury apartment complex. “I know the company that worked on them, Beetee Latier is a smart guy and I’m willing to bet that this place is very up-to-date when it comes to virtual assistance.”

“I’ve never tried it, but Johanna has said that she can tell the apartment when it’s too cold,” Katniss told him offhandedly. “And it raises the temperature according to what is comfortable.” They stop outside the entrance and she turned to him. “Thanks for dinner and the conversation.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” Peeta replied.

His hand reached, cupping her cheek and his thumb brush against the edge of her bottom lip before dropping to his side. Katniss felt every nerve pulsate at his touch and she had desperately fought the urge to take his thumb into her mouth to taste him.

She wanted to ask him to come up, but her need to not seem so desperate dampened her longing.

Reaching into her purse, Katniss took out her keys, giving him a shy smile. She quickly kissed him on the cheek.

“Good night, Peeta.”

His hand reached to a tendril of her hair, caressing it with his fingers as if he were trying to memorize the feel of it between them.

When Peeta met her eyes, her breath caught at the desire in his darkened blues. “Good night, Katniss.”

“Fuck it—”

Katniss snapped, her keys dropping to the ground in a loud clink, as her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled his mouth against hers. Peeta gasped in surprise before catching himself and circling his arms around her waist to pull her close.

He tasted delicious, her tongue surrounding his as she feasted on him. Her hand reached to grasp at his hair and the moan that tumbled from his mouth cause the fire inside her to flare. She had never wanted anything or anyone as much as she wanted the feel of him against her.

His lips slid off hers, pressing to her neck, his tongue sampling her.

“What are you doing to me, Katniss Everdeen?” he asked breathlessly, the intensity of his question sending shivers through her skin.

Katniss met his eyes, her chest heaving as she felt the rapid beat of her heart.

“I’m taking you upstairs.”

 So, there’s going to be a 2nd part to this. I’m having too much fun.

Yeah, I’ve been shipping Gale with the eldest brother since TWC.

Bogotá Kiss

Prologue: There Was a Boy

Summary/Author’s Note: Javier Peña had finally gotten his life together. He was a newlywed, back in the states with his bride, and starting his new life free of Escobar and the world of the cartels. That is until he found his wife in bed with another man. On a path of self destruction, he goes back to Bogota, reclaims his job with the DEA, his partner Steve Murphy, and throws himself into his work, cheap whiskey, and the company of his...informants. 

You are a singer in the hottest burlesque club in Columbia. Pulling yourself out of poverty and into a world where men throw money at your feet, buy you diamonds, and pay untold amounts for your services. You don’t mind that the club’s biggest source of income is smuggling diamonds from the necks, wrists, and ears of its prostitutes and into the pockets of their buyers, until a handsome DEA agent gets too close and figures out the scheme. 

**IMPORTANT: For those familiar with Moulin Rouge--The reader will NOT die at the end. Fuck that. Let Javi be happy god dammit. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (Moulin Rouge/French Kiss AU) Word Count: 1.6k (its just a prologue, the next chapter will be better) Warnings (for entire fic): NC-17/18+ - Language, sex, prostitution, mentions/implied R*pe (nothing will ever be described in detail or used as a plot device), typical canon violence for NARCOS, shooting, attempted murder, drug use, blackmail, hurt/comfort, lies and betrayal, happy ending

[MASTERLIST]

"It's not what it looks like."

People didn't actually say that line, did they? And worse yet, no one actually would possibly believe it. Right? The words fell from her lips and suddenly Javier Peña felt like he was watching a movie about someone else's life. A cliché of a film in which the idiot of a husband walked in on his wife bouncing on the dick of another man. He was that idiot, and as she scrambled off the lap of the stranger and called his name, he slammed the door behind him, not bothering to wait for an explanation. Queue the laugh track or cut to the scene of him walking in the rain to somber music. 

Only this wasn't a movie. There would be no comedic relief, just a lot of heartache, wasted time and money. He had always had a bad habit of falling for the wrong girl. He would see himself mirrored in the eyes of the broken, the depressed, the ones who, much like him, just seemed unable to catch a break in life. But instead of getting a kindred spirit to share his world with, he usually just got a lot of baggage and a quick lay.  

He packed a bag, not giving a shit about any of his worldly possessions, and found himself at the Dallas airport, sitting at the bar and waiting for his gate number to be called. 

He raised two fingers, letting the bartender know he wanted a fucking double, as he held his cellphone to his ear and listened to it ring. The boxy phone didn't fit comfortably against his shoulder and he dropped it just as the other end picked up and Steve's voice came through.

"Murphy."

"Fuck. Shit." Javier fumbled the phone and held it back against his face.

"Javi?"

"Yeah, it's me." Javier sighed as he picked up his whiskey and tossed it back with a mild wince. "I'm on my way back."

"I heard." Steve paused. "Carolyn called. I told her I didn't know where you were."

"Thanks, 'appreciate it."

"I talked to Noonan. She said your job's still open. You can have it and the keys to your apartment." 

They both paused for an extended period of time. Javier ordered another shot of whiskey and Steve breathed quietly on the other end of the phone. Neither one of them had to say out loud what they both already knew. Javier had fallen for the wrong girl, again. His heart was broken and he wanted to drown out the ache he was feeling in cheap booze, a carton of Marlboro, and expensive pussy. 

"I'll pick you up from the airport. Safe trip, Jav."

"Thanks, Murph."

Javier pressed the button on the phone and rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. It was all smooth sailing from here. He was on his way back to normalcy, back to doing what he did best, hunting Narcos and not having any emotional ties to anything that mattered. 

--

The car ride from the airport had been quiet for the most part but Javier could tell that Steve was just dying to ask. So, when they parked in front of the apartment and neither one of them moved, he dug his smokes out of his jacket pocket and rolled down the window. He flicked his silver lighter to life and inhaled deeply as Steve shut off the engine. 

"Go ahead. Ask."

Steve sighed and looked at his friend. "What happened, man?"

"I let it go too far, like an idiot. And she couldn't even wait until the honeymoon was over before she tripped and landed on some other man's dick." He inhaled deeply and ran his thumb along his mustache. 

"Shit. I'm sorry--"

"Don't," Javier cut him off and shook his head. "Okay? Don't."

"You file for divorce?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Lawyer is drawing everything up now so we can sign it." 

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm sorry, Javi. You seemed happy." Steve looked at him and Javier flicked his cigarette out of the window. 

"Yeah, I know." He took another long drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt out onto the sidewalk. “Tell Connie I said ‘hi’, okay?” 

With a mumbled thanks for the ride and a couple of quick 'see you tomorrows', he opened the car door and grabbed his suitcase out of the back seat and walked up the stairs and into the apartment building. He went through the motions of coming back to this place that he knew quite well, as he went downstairs and stuck his keys in the door without needing to turn on a light. 

He tossed his keys on the side table and kicked the door shut gently as he dropped his shoulder bag and looked around. The only furniture that the place had was the old embassy supplied leather couch, scuffed up coffee table, and bar stools against the kitchen counter. Fuck. That settled what he would be doing tomorrow, getting all his furniture out of storage and having the embassy replace what he didn’t have. 

Before tossing his leather jacket on the back of the couch, he got out another cigarette and let it bob between his lips as he mumbled to himself. He inhaled deeply and tossed his lighter next to his keys before making his way to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge, he didn’t know if he wanted to run upstairs and kiss her, or if he wanted to clutch his chest and cry. 

The entire appliance was completely bare and wiped out, the light making the white shelves look entirely too bright, but sitting in the middle of the top shelf was a covered casserole of some kind and a bottle of whiskey. A note was taped to the tin foil that read: 

“Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Please eat something while you drink this. -- love, Connie.”

At least Steve knew how to pick a woman, because that’s exactly what Connie was, one hell of a woman. Javier grabbed the bottle of liquor and mentally promised Connie that he would eat later. He wasn’t hungry. He really hadn’t been hungry for the last few days, and as he looked at the whiskey and cracked the seal on the lid, he didn’t mourn that the kitchen didn’t have any glasses. He was well beyond the need for a glass. 

He took the bottle to the couch, kicked off his boots and plopped down heavily. The whiskey was a familiar burn down his throat and he felt it all the way to his belly. Warm, inviting, and just what he needed. Another drink was followed by a long drag of his cigarette before he kick backed and muttered, “Home, sweet, home,” to a cold, empty house.

--

The banging on the door permeated his skull in a way that he didn’t think was possible. But then again it had been a long time since he had been this hungover. He rolled over on the leather couch and shoved his face into the cushions and prayed that whoever wanted him would just go away. There was no one on this green earth that he wanted to speak to.

He must have fallen back asleep briefly because the next thing he knew, his partner had let himself into his apartment with his spare key and was nudging his leg that was hanging off the side of the couch. 

“Javi,” Steve said as he plucked the empty liquor bottle from under his friend’s arm. “Javi!” 

“Is too early,” Javier mumbled into the leather of the sofa.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon.” Steve said, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “I told Noonan you were taking the weekend to unpack--” Steve looked around the apartment and then back to the horizontal man. “Looks like you’re done.”

“Fuck you.”

Steve shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “Come on. You need a shower. I’d offer to buy you a drink but you smell like you’ve got that taken care of. So, how about a lap dance? There’s this new place on the other side of town--got your name written all over it.”

“Go away.”

Steve, rubbed his hand down his face and glared at the shell of the man that he had gotten to know over the last couple of years. The day Javier Peña turned down a lap dance, it would have been a cold day in hell and yet the evidence was right there in front of him. Someone needed to tell the devil to go check his thermostat.

“Mmkay.” Steve said sharply and took the empty bottle over to the sink and filled it about half way with tap water. When he dumped it on top of Javier’s head, the way the dark-haired man sputtered and sat straight up brought him more joy than it probably should have. “Good morning!”

“F-fucking hillbilly,” Javier cursed as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face.

“Get your ass in the shower and I won’t tell Con that you didn’t eat her food she left you.” When his friend paused long enough to lower his shirt and glare at him, Steve continued. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Javi.”

The two men stood at odds of one another, but the blond refused to relent. Javier shoved his now soaking wet hair back from where it was plastered to his face and nodded. He stood with a groan and gave Steve his middle finger as he trudged to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Missed you, too, bud!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth in a mock yell after the other man’s retreating form. It was going to be a long road to getting his partner back to his usual self, but the natural place to start was with some no-strings-attached pussy.

--

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💘💘💘💘 + ghasdug

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

So Skug says they stowed away on the same ship, but this is...not exactly true.

He stowed away on that ship, because he was running away from home and he was a snobby little lordling who'd never had to fend for himself a day in his life, so the furthest ahead he'd actually thought to plan was "they won't want to turn around and drop me off once they're underway".

Ghastly was not stowed away at any point during that trip. Ghastly was signed on for the journey as a deckhand, because Ghastly's mother told him he needed to, and it had to be that particular ship. Ghastly gets seasick, and did not want to go to sea in the slightest. But Ghastly's mother has visions and so Ghastly does as he is told. Apparently there was something important waiting for him on that ship.

Anyway Skug pops out once he thinks they're far enough away from shore that they'll leave him be rather than take him back to port, and he is incredibly mistaken. The captain is in favour of turning him around right there and then, because he's clearly some rich lord's brat, and whoever his father is will probably pay handsomely for his safe return. Ghastly manages to talk the ship's crew into letting him stay on, provided he pulls his weight like the rest of them.

Needless to say, even before they're attacked by pirates, that voyage is a rude awakening for poor Skug, and good lord does Ghastly hear all about it. He has blisters. His feet hurt. This shirt was expensive and now it's all sweaty. His hair is in his eyes all the time. He's tired. The guy in the next bunk snores. Some of these people look like they have lice. He didn't realise he'd be doing manual labour, this is servant stuff, how dare they.

Ghastly does. Not realise at that point what he has let himself in for.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

Poor Ghastly gets to pine for years. Baby Skug isn't a great boyfriend. He's less invested - he loves Ghastly, but they have two totally different outlooks.

Ghastly is ugly. He's always been ugly. He's got a face he believes only his mother could love. He's never believed he'd find someone who saw past that or loved him regardless. So as soon as he gets Skug into bed, he's over the moon and ready to commit. He's like 17, and would absolutely settle down there and then given half a chance.

Skug, on the other hand, was a weird-looking child who only recently grew into an attractive adolescent and he is loving it. For the first time in his life, girls are noticing him. He doesn't want to settle down, he wants to play the field and sow some wild oats and have fun. So there are periods of exclusivity with Ghastly, interspersed with periods where Skug basically drops him to chase after the latest pretty bit of skirt.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Ghastly's smitten by the time they make it back to Ireland - Skug is a bit soft and allergic to hard work and a pain in the arse, but he's flashy and charismatic and funny and pays attention to him without gawking at his face (past the initial "good god, what happened to you?") - but Skug is well and truly settled into living with Ghastly's family by the time he actually gives Ghas the come-on.

where their first date was and what it was like

They went to the local tavern and got drunk, and then rode home in the pouring rain once it kicked them out at closing time.

When they got home, Ghastly's parents had long since gone to bed, but that wasn't necessarily unusual - once Skug, who has a considerable allowance, is old enough to start drinking, Saoirse institutes a rule that if they're not home by the time she and her husband turn in for the night, she'll leave blankets in the barn and they can sleep there instead. She's not having them barging in, wasted, at all hours of the day and night, waking her up after a hard day's work.

So they put the horses away and give them a quick rub down, and Ghastly is trying to look anywhere but Skug because Skug's shirt has gone kind of see-through and poor Ghastly is an awkward, horny teenage boy, but he keeps shooting him these furtive glances over the horse's back and Skug notices because Skug notices everything and lowkey teases him about it. "Want me to sit for a portrait? It'll last longer," sort of teasing, and Ghastly tries to laugh along but he's also vibrant red because he's been caught staring, so obviously Skug realises something's up

And he's precisely as tactful about it as he ever is about anything, and jokes, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted me," and Ghastly's ears burn and he doesn't deny it quick enough and now Skug's eyebrows are inching towards his hairline and Ghastly panics because like, he's ugly, Skug is going to be disgusted or laugh at him and he can't cope with either, so he just? Freezes?

But like. Skug was a weird-looking, unfortunate child who very recently grew into an attractive adolescent, so he fucking thrives on attention. So his response to this awkward not-quite-a-confession is actually a moment of silence while he mulls this new information over (this feels like an eternity to poor Ghastly) followed by an early attempt at using The Hot Voice and, "If you want me, have me."

So, they end up having sex in the hayloft on the blankets Ghastly's mom left out for them. Ghastly has never even been kissed and doesn't admit that he has no idea what he's doing until he realises Skug is expecting him to take the lead. He also blurts that he loves Skug when he nuts, so like. It's your typical painfully embarrassing virginity loss.

It can't be all bad though, because Skug's up for doing it again.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

So in my endgame-ghasdug AU, they get back together post-TDOTL. Ghastly survives being stabbed, but the blade nicked his spinal cord, so he's in a wheelchair for quite a while, and then has to do A Lot of physical therapy to relearn how to walk. Skug shows up at the hospital/facility where he's recovering every day unless there's an emergency, because Ghastly is very depressed and struggling with survivor's guilt over Anton and doesn't see the point in doing his physio because it hurts and he's exhausted and he shouldn't be alive anyway. And Skug annoys him into doing it, mostly by heckling him from the other side of the room, because he's not great at the whole emotional support thing. Ghastly will mutter, "Christ, I want to hit you," and Skug will tell him, "Well, if you come over here to do it I won't even duck." And if Ghastly gets his ass up and uses the walking frame support thing to cross the room, well, then Skug will take a punch like a man and be happy about it because Ghastly walked.

They also talk a lot during this period. Ghastly feels like shit, and he reminisces a lot about the good old days and how he never saw Ravel's betrayal coming and memories he has of Anton, and sometimes that veers into memories they share from when they were young men. And Skug, at this point, is old enough and has been through enough to admit that he wasn't great to Ghastly when they were boys. He was flighty and selfish and high-maintenance, and he would've hated to be treated the way he treated Ghastly. And he tells him that, at one point - that he's sorry, and if he could go back and do it differently, he would, assuming Ghastly was daft enough to be willing to put up with him a second time.

And Ghastly laughs and tells him, "I'd still have you now, you stupid bastard."

who proposes first

Ghastly. They're 19/20. Skug thinks he's joking.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Neither - they don't announce it, but it's not exactly a secret either. Ghastly's parents notice pretty much straight away, but other than a few parental pointers on what is and isn't appropriate, it's not really a topic of conversation.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Skug's sister Confelicity accepts the first proposal she gets at the age of 16, because she's desperate to get out of their parents' house and away from their toxic relationship and controlling behaviour. Their father disapproves and refuses to attend the wedding (and, of course, their mother is not allowed her own opinion), and Carver is out of the country, so Skug stands in to a) pay and b) give away the bride. He takes Ghastly for moral support, because he doesn't like most of his relatives and also doesn't like the groom (Thurid Guild - their relationship doesn't improve when Confelicity divorces him a few years later to marry a baronet). While they're watching the couple say their vows, Ghastly murmurs, "We should get married."

Skug is right in the middle of his hoe phase and does not realise Ghastly's serious.

who’s more dominant

Generally, Skug. He is one hell of a force of personality and Ghastly does get steamrollered quite a bit, although he does eventually learn how to say no. Skug always gets things his way, always does whatever he likes and be damned to the consequences, and Ghastly is always there with a handful of the back of his shirt, pulling his ass out of whatever fire he started.

In bed, though, it's Ghastly.

how into pda they are

As teenagers, Ghastly's mother has to reprimand them occasionally for being too all over each other, but teenagers be rabidly horny. As grown men, they're just sort of casually affectionate. Comfortable with each other. When they're relaxing in camp after a day of travelling, Skug will lean against Ghastly to read a book or put his head on Ghastly's leg while they chat. They can have a silent conversation just by reading each other's faces. They'll nudge each other when something reminds them of an in-joke. They have that easy intimacy that comes with having known each other forever.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

As boys, Ghastly has a particular flowery meadow he likes to take Skug to for picnics, because he's a romantic. Skug at that age is considerably less so, and more interested in whether they can screw there without getting caught.

In the modern day, they go to see old movies. Ghastly was very into the early films of the late 1910s and the 1920s, after the war finished. He associates them with a time where he finally got to just set up his shop and live the life he always wanted to live. Skug hasn't seen most of Ghastly's favourites, because he spent that period of history fighting the truce and then spiralling into a black hole of trauma and misery, but he got very into the noir detective era to the point that he's still clinging to the aesthetic like 80 years later, so they'll alternate who picks the movies and catch each other up on their favourites.

who’s more protective

They've both spent their fair share of time fretting in the chair beside a hospital bed. After Ravel's betrayal, though, it's Skug. Ghastly retires as soon as he's considered fit to make the decision, and decides he wants to go back to Dublin to reopen his shop and just sort of try and forget Roarhaven exists. And Skug is absolutely adamant that he gets to do it. There's a lot of interest in Ghastly for a while - groundbreaking healing magic was used to fix what should've been a permanent injury, people want to know if he suspected Ravel, they want his advice on how to rebuild after Devastation Day. He's more approachable than China, and a lot more popular. But he can't cope with it all, and anyone who tries to hassle him in Dublin will have Skug to deal with.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

The first night Skug stays at Ghastly's family home. Ghastly is an only child, and his family isn't wealthy - their house doesn't have a guest room. It's sleep with Ghastly or sleep on the floor, and Little Lord Priss isn't going to be sleeping on the floor.

Honestly, he's relieved there isn't a spare room for him. He's never really slept alone before. Like most children of very wealthy families back then, he grew up in a nursery with his four oldest brothers and sisters, and when he was too old to live with The Children, he shared a room, first with Carver and then with Francis. The thought of being on his own in a strange house is pretty intimidating.

He moves to his own bed as soon as they get him one, but he stays in Ghastly's room, and he's perfectly happy with that.

(Ghastly is less happy. He's very much crushing on Skug and he's terrified he'll say something incriminating in his sleep.)

who steals whose clothes and how often

Skug gets to steal Ghastly's clothes for a year or two after he moves in with Ghastly's family. After that, they're built too differently. Ghastly is built like a brick shithouse of muscle. Skug is lean and toned and tall. When they're younger, he can more or less wear Ghastly's clothes as a nightshirt, but after Skug's final growth spurt, Ghastly's clothes don't sit right on him at all, and he's gotten too vain and fashion-conscious by that point to just wear them anyway.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Ghastly is fussy about his tea. Plenty of milk, two and a half sugars, leave the teabag in.

Skug just inhales it black, which Ghastly thinks is an abomination.

if they ever have any children together

Ghastly thanks his lucky stars every day that they have a 0% chance of accidentally spawning a skuglet. One of him is plenty.

He's very involved with Skugbab when he comes along, though. He's godfather and a very present uncle.

if they have any special pet names for each other

Skug doesn't do nicknames, and would rather not be given them, either. Ghastly gets away with "Skul", primarily because he's the only one who's known Skug since he was all of 16, but also because "Skulduggery" is a mouthful when all your blood is rushing to your downstairs brain and it's his own damn fault that he didn't think of that before he picked it.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

So many times. They're on and off again more frequently than Saracen's clothes. Every time Skug spots someone new, he ends it with Ghastly to pursue them, and then comes back when he loses interest or it doesn't work out.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

Ghastly's family home is an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Dublin. It's simple, but cosy, and Ghastly's dad is incredibly houseproud, so it's very well-looked-after. Skug prefers it by miles to his own palacial, but cold and unwelcoming, family home, and he tries to replicate the vibe later on with Wifey. It's pretty small compared to what he's used to, so it sort of feels like they're all living on top of each other, and he has to get used to not having any servants and drawing his own water to heat his own bath etc, but he's loved there, and that makes all the difference.

what their names are in each other’s phones

They're both old-ass men about some things, and this is one of them. So no emojis or anything - they're "Ghastly Bespoke" and "Skul". How romantic.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Ghastly wakes up first: he's used to rising early to get started on his chores. Skug is absolutely not a morning person at this point in his life and Ghastly frequently has to turf his ass out of bed by pulling his quilt off/dumping water on him/yelling in his ear.

Reversed with modern day ghasdug: Ghastly still wakes at a sensible time, but damn it he left the army a century ago and now he likes a lie in. Skug never really stopped being a soldier and still has most of his military habits, so he's up with the sun.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Ghastly is the big spoon. Skug likes to be Held.

who hogs the bathroom

Skug. The boy is vain as all fuck. There is a grand total of one cloudy looking-glass in Ghastly's family's home and Skug spends a good chunk of the morning hogging it to fuss with his hair and peacock at his reflection. Ghastly is under strict orders Never to mention this to Fletcher.

To Be Your Person

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Reader’s Uncle

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: angst, minor fluff, death of a loved one, funeral angst

Request by @originalposter-96: Can I request for Dean Winchester? The reader is dating him and is close to Sam. When she receives the news that her aunt had passed away, the three of them all go visit her family. When they visit her uncle, he is quiet for most of the time but when the reader starts talking to him about a picture that she still has of them goofing off, it makes him smile. Dean thought that was really sweet because no one else has been able to do that and Dean loved the way she bonds with him.

Summary: When your aunt unexpectedly passes in her sleep, you and the brothers go to her funeral. There, you try and comfort your uncle as you two remember who she was.

hurt/comfort for @spndeanbingo

guardian angels for @teamfreewillbingo

photobomb for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: This is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine. If you have any requests, please send them in!

It’s a chill day in the Bunker which is a rarity. Usually, your days are filled with fear, terror, and ghastly things that most people just wouldn’t survive. You see so much death and destruction a day it’s amazing how you’re still alive at this point--or sane enough to function on your own. Well, you would be if you did it on your own.

Sam and Dean have been great roommates since the moment you decided to live with them. They’re men, so it has it’s downsides to living with them, but other than the usual shit, they’re pretty great. It’s hard to share a house with both brothers and not fall for at least one of them. You tried for so long to keep your feelings at bay, but you and the elder Winchester connected almost immediately.

He’s the reason why you’re here today.

Your relationship has been touch-and-go for the most part, but you’re going on four months now, and everything seems to be going great. There is still a lot of things that you don’t know about him, and there are certainly a lot of things he doesn’t know about you, but you like taking it slow and learning about each other in surprising ways.

You can trust him wholeheartedly with your life when you go out on hunts. He’s proven more than capable of holding your life in his hands. Hell, he’s had to do it a few times over the years. You can go on a hunt knowing that you’re going to come out of it okay because of Dean Winchester. He knows exactly what he is doing, and even though he doesn’t need to, he takes care of everyone when they’re hunting with him.

The problem isn’t trusting him with your life… it’s trusting him with your heart.

You’ve been hurt too many times in the past to just hand it over like it’s something he has a right to. No, he needs to earn the rights to your heart. Your relationship is still pretty new, so you’re not even close to letting him near your heart like that. It’s going to take a lot of time and effort to make your body know and understand that he isn’t going anywhere, and he is here to stay.

Right now, you’re looking through different newspapers for potential cases while Sam is on the laptop. Dean wants to help, but he’s pretending to do work on his laptop when you know he’s really just playing some meaningless game. You’re not finding anything in the newspaper, and our eyes are getting tired from staring at the same thing. You place the paper down and get up to get something to drink.

“You guys want anything?” you ask.

“Two beers,” Dean says and holds up two fingers.

You walk into the kitchen and get the beers along with a beverage of your choice. Once you grab them, you start to head back. Just before you can walk into the war room, your phone rings. Your uncle is calling, so you shuffle everything to one hand so you can answer the phone with the other one.

“Hey, Uncle Zack! How are things back home?” you ask as you walk into the library.

“Not good, Y/N. I am so sorry to be telling you this over the phone, but your Aunt Pearl died this morning in her sleep.”

You’re in the middle of handing Dean his beer when you just tense up and freeze. The beer bottle slips from your hand and crashes to the floor, shattering into pieces. The drink you grabbed for you is next, but luckily, Dean catches it before it can suffer the same fate.

“What the hell, Y/N!” Dean says, but he trails off when he sees the look on your face.

Your Aunt Pearl and Uncle Zack were the ones you went to whenever your parents were out on hunts. They left you with them because it was too dangerous to have their only kid go with them. Zack and Pearl knew of the supernatural, but they didn’t want any part of it. They supported your parents, and they would only help if research needed to be done or something that can be done from home. They wanted to live a normal life, but it’s not like Pearl was going to let her sister hunt on her own without some kind of help.

Whenever you stayed with them, you would always have the best time together. Pearl made you forget your parents were out hunting monsters and took you to the zoo, shopping malls, the amusement parks and gave you a childhood you could be proud of. Your uncle taught you more survival skills since he loved to hunt animals in the woods behind their house.

Pearl and Zack are the best couple you knew besides your parents. They knew what the other was thinking, relied on each other when they needed it, and loved each other endlessly. Most people you knew got divorced within the first five years of being married to each other, but Pearl and Zack have been married for sixty years this past month, and you’ve always wanted what they had.

You knew love existed because of your aunt and uncle. You loved your parents to death, but they were never able to give you a childhood like your aunt and uncle did. They always made sure to set aside some time to devote to you, and you always appreciate that of them.

To hear that your aunt Pearl has passed is devastating because you know just how much your uncle loves her. It brings you back to when you found out your dad had died during a hunt. That’s what it took for your mom to retire, but it was too late for her. She died a few months later from a broken heart. Pearl was old, so you knew it was coming, but you didn't think it would be here that quickly.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asks, concerned that you haven’t moved for the past five minutes.

You’ve just been staring at the wall behind Dean with your phone to your ear.

“There’s going to be a funeral, and I’d like for you to be there,” your uncle says.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“I know you loved her so much. I know how hard this is.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whimper.

“I’ll send you more information regarding the funeral later on. I just wanted you to be the first person to know. At least she’s with your mother now.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You can’t seem to form words that are more than one syllable right now, and he understands you need to take this in. He’s done enough grieving this morning to finally call someone, and now it’s your turn.

“I love you so much. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

There is a moment of silence before he hangs up. The phone slips from your hands just as your knees buckle. Dean is quick to catch you, and as soon as you feel his arms around you, you break down crying. Your sobs are loud, and they echo off the walls causing them to be haunting. Sam and Dean have no clue what that phone call was about, but they are going to wait until you calm down so you can tell them.

Dean sits back on his chair, bringing you with him. You crawl into his lap and bury your face in his neck, sobbing into it. His neck is wet from your tears, but he doesn’t make any move to wipe them away. The only thing he does is run his hand up and down your back trying to soothe you. Sam gets up and cleans the mess you made on the floor before scooting his chair closer to you and Dean.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you stutter.

“It’s okay. Take a deep breath for me, okay?” Dean says.

You pull away enough to look at him, and you try to do what he asked of you. Your bottom lip trembles, but you manage to take a big breath in and out.

“What’s going on? Who was on the phone?”

“M-my uncle. My a-aunt pas-passed away this m-morning.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam sighs.

“They gave me a ch-childhood I’ve a-always dreamed of. They were m-my second parents,” you cry. “There’s going to be a funeral.”

“Do you know when?”

“No. He’s going to call me back. God, I feel so sorry for him. They l-love each other so much. They were m-married for sixty years.”

“I know it’s rough. I wish there was something we can do,” Dean sighs.

“Will you both come with me to the funeral? I don’t want to go alone.”

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need,” Sam nods.

“Yeah, anything,” Dean agrees.

The rest of the day was spent lying in Dean’s arms, thinking about living in a world without your aunt.

The funeral happens a week after she passes. Your uncle managed to get everything ready quickly, and you know he only did that to keep himself busy. The real struggle is going home after this to an empty house and living in that house knowing that the person you love is never going to walk those halls or sleep next to you. The hardest part hasn’t even come close, but you’re going to try and be there for your uncle through it all.

Your aunt was loved by all, so there is a lot of people at the funeral. All of your family, her family, and all of her friends are there talking about what a great person she was. Everyone is talking to someone except for your uncle. He’s just sitting by himself, watching everyone else. You leave Sam and Dean’s side to join his. As soon as he sees you, his eyes light up but not by much.

“Y/N,” he says sadly.

“I am so sorry,” you whimper.

He takes you into his arms, and you hug him tightly. He kisses the top of your head, and you pull away enough to look at him in the eyes.

“It’s not your fault, butterfly.”

That’s a nickname he loves calling you since he believes you could do much more with your life if you’d just spread your wings.

“She’s not gone for good. She’s right here,” you say and place your hand over his heart. “She will always be watching over us. She’s your guardian angel now. You know how much she believed in that kind of stuff.”

“I know she did,” he sniffles. “Excuse me.”

He shrugs out of your grasp and leaves to go upstairs. He might cry or yell, but you know he has to do it alone. Sam and Dean approach you from behind, and you turn to face them with a sigh.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“I know,” Dean whispers.

He brings you into a side-hug, and he kisses the top of your head in a comforting way. Your uncle doesn’t want to be present for this part since he knows he won’t be able to survive it. Your aunt has a lot of admirers and friends, and almost all of them talk about how great she was, shared some memories, and even cried a bit. You wanted to say something, but everything you wanted to say was about the hunter’s life. You can’t bring anyone else into this life, so you’re going to say your eulogy for when you’re alone.

She deserves to hear it.

Your uncle came back down after everyone was done, but even then, he didn’t talk to anyone. He didn’t smile, he didn't laugh, and he didn’t do anything except sit at his chair and watch everyone else do what he couldn’t. Sam and Dean notice how sad he looks, but they sure as hell don’t know how to make him feel better.

You tried to make him feel better by talking about how she is always going to be here, but maybe that was the wrong approach. You decide to take a different one, and you take out your phone so you can access your photos. You leave the brothers’ side and sit next to your uncle.

“Butterfly, I’d really like to be alone,” he sighs.

“Remember this?” you ask and hold up your phone to show him one of your favorite pictures of you, him, and your aunt.

You remember wanting to take a nice picture of you and your uncle, but you two had just gotten done roughhousing with your aunt. She still wanted to play and joke around, so she photobombed the picture. She jumped on your uncle’s back, look at the camera, and made a funny face. You’re laughing at her entrance, and your uncle is just smiling because he loves his wife so much.

Your uncle takes out his glasses and looks at the picture. He remembers that day as if it were yesterday; It might as well be. He smiles at her face, and you move to sit next to him so you can show him more pictures like this one.

Sam is getting food, but Dean is watching you and your uncle. Your uncle hasn’t smiled once since this whole thing started, but you managed to get him there with one photograph. You’re the only one who got him to smile at the memory of your aunt instead of sulking in it. He wishes to be that close to you, to know you can always come to him no matter how down you’re feeling because he’s always going to try and cheer you up.

Your relationship is new, and that’s okay, but he’s in it for the long run. You’re just that special, and he’s never met anyone else like you. He wishes to be your rock, your best friend, the one you’ve been married to for sixty years. He wants to love you the way your uncle loved your aunt.

He wants to be your person, and one day, he hopes you let him.

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Trouble: Chapter 2

*Gif not mine*

Pairings: HotchxReader

Prologue  Chapter 1

Rating: M

Words: 3K

Warnings: Basic witch stuff, angst, mentions of child birth, mentions of near death

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: After Haley’s passing, Aaron Hotchner has lost the light in his eyes. He seems to find it it the most unlikely of places, an occult themed coffee shop ran by a witch.

A.N: Tarot, wicca, and crystal information is very secondhand if you see any inaccuracies, no you don’t. If you are a witch tho and want to help and be nice to me enter my ask box please, I’m annoying my friend too much.

Chapter 2: God, don't let me lose my mind

The deeper into autumn you got the more busy the shop was. 

Halloween was a big money grabber for your shop. People loved to come to the shop around that time because your shop offered such ‘spooky’ feel, as the hipster who came in that morning would say. You hated that. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays simply because the veil between the natural and supernatural was so thin it was the best time for spells and charms but what you didn’t like was people and baby witches asking you about certain spells or how to commune with spirits just so they can do something “extra spooky” for whatever parties they were having for the season. Consultations were such easy money though so you’d never turn them away but your answer was always the same, that Spirits are not toys and that if they are going to invite them it better be serious and for the right intentions otherwise they might not leave. 

Despite it being your favorite season, It didn’t make you less annoyed. 

“If I have to make another Pumpkin flavored whatever and tell a sorority girl not to invoke a demon in her house, I’m going to scream.” Silena says to you as you enter the shop, Artemis in tow. Your sitter had to take an exam so you had to watch her for the first 2 hours of your shift. Artie, knowing the drill by now, tries to crawl up to the bar stool. You watch her for a second, smiling her little legs before taking pity on her and hoisting her up. She immediately pulls a coloring book and crayons out her bag, before working diligently in silence. You kiss her temple before walking behind the counter, tying your apron on. 

“You had another consultation today?” You asked.  

“Pfft, it wasn’t even that. She asked me while ordering her coffee, though I should’ve charged her for that dumbass question.” You look at her pointed, nodding your head towards your child who repeats everything. Silly winces “Sorry, but still. If this is how halloween is going to be, you’re probably going to have to do some balancing spells.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly what I need, more work.” 

“What’s a dumbass?” Artie pipes up from her perch on the stool. 

“Something you are not and shouldn’t repeat unless you want your mom mad at me.” Silly says, reaching across the counter to ruffle her hair. 

The doorbell of the shop rings and the very man who’s occupied your mind these past couple of months steps in. Aaron Hotchner was one of your favorite customers despite not talking very much, he’d make small talk while you made his order which you found yourself doing slower than it would normally take you, just to get a little bit more of his time, he’d leave a tip in the jar and be on his way always leaving you with a small smile that you always immediately returned with a wide one. You tried to stop yourself from getting attached but here you were, an adult woman who had a crush on a customer who probably didn’t think about you when he left the shop. 

You’d never seen him on a weekend though and frankly you didn’t know if you could handle seeing him like this again, he wore dark blue jeans, a black belt and a black t-shirt that fit a little too well over his broad chest you couldn’t help but staring at his arms that you’d never seen on display like this. You knew for a fact(well you hoped at least) he’d have no issue picking you up or pinning you down. 

Now’s not the time, y/n… you think. 

“Hey, you.” You greet, flirtatiously. You’ve been trying not to flirt with him, you really were but sometimes you couldn’t help it. It was your personality. “Didn’t think I’d see you in here. On a weekend, no less.” 

“Yea, decided to stop for coffee before heading to my sister in law’s. Can I have my usual and an Americano for her?” He asks 

“You got it.” You wink before starting to work. Silly gives you a knowing look which you brush off. Hotch takes a seat at the bar a few seats away from your daughter who looks up at him. 

“Hi!” She says excitedly. “I’m Artie.” 

“Hi Artie, I’m Aaron.” He looks around. “Are your parents around?” You look up. You’d forgotten to mention you had a kid to Hotch, which would probably explain his confusion of a random child sitting alone. 

“My mama’s right there, silly.” She laughs. “Mama?” She says you look up automatically from the milk you’re frothing. 

“Yes, bean?” You say. 

“Can I have a brownie?”  

“Well, I don’t know. Did you finish the addition tables I asked you to do?” She shakes her head at you. “Well, how about you do that then we’ll see if it’s brownie time, deal?” She nods, fast while pulling her math homework out of her bag. Hotch watches the interaction confused but with a slight smile. 

“I didn’t know you had a kid.” He says 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Gus.” You say, calling him by the nickname you affectionately gave him your first meeting. “But yes I do, that’s Artemis.” 

He nods, knowingly. “How old?” 

“Well, I don’t know. How old are you, bean?” You say. 

“I’m six!” She says, holding up 5 fingers, you grab her other hand to extend her other index finger too so the number was actually 6. 

“Really? You’re not 16 yet?” Silly asks, ruffling her hair. “I thought you were driving us home tonight?” 

Artie shakes her head. “Mama says I can’t drive yet.” 

“Between you and me kid, your mama shouldn’t be on the road either.” You swat at her. 

Aaron gives a small chuckle at the display in front of him. But he has to ask the burning question in his head. “Her dad—“ 

“Not in the picture.” You cut off. “Like not even in the same gallery.” 

Hotch nods understandably as you put his drinks in the carrier for him. He looks at you confused when you add a 3rd cup. 

“Hot chocolate.” You say. “For your son. I imagine that’s where you’re going. To pick him up from your sister?”  

“How did you know I had a son?” He asks. 

“Oh, I just used one of my witchy spells to find out information on you.” You say jokingly, but he looks at you with mild horror. “I’m kidding, Spencer told me.” 

He nods. “Thank you, y/n.” 

“No problem, come back to see me?” 

“Always.” He says, offering you a small secret smile before leaving. You can’t help the dreamy look you give his retreating back. 

“Are you coming back to earth anytime soon?” Sil says, shaking her head. “You got it bad, kid.” 

“Pfft, no I don’t.” You say turning to clean up the mess you just made. 

“I don’t understand why you just won’t ask him out.” 

“He’s healing, Sil.” You say, shrugging. “And I don’t want to push him into something he’s obviously not ready for.” 

Not to mention you also didn’t think you were ready for it. 

———————————————

On Halloween day, you get a visit from one of your favorite customers 

“Pennywise!” You say to chipper blonde women who strolled in she was wearing a orange and black dress with little jack-O-lantern earrings that you had gotten her the beginning of month. You move your hair back to show her the Ouija board pointer earrings she had gotten you in return. Penelope Garcia couldn’t just accept a gift without giving one in return. 

“Hey Y/N, how are you this ole hallow’s eve?”

“It’s Halloween and a full moon tonight.” You say excitedly. “It’s like witch Christmas.” 

“I don’t know about that but I am happy for you. Can I have a pumpkin spice latte and since I’m such a good friend an Americano with extra sugar for the good doctor?” She asks. 

“You got it, Pen.” You say before starting her order. “Heading into work now?” 

“Sure am! Hopefully there’s not a gruesome murder so I’ll be able to spend my Halloween having fun.” Penelope says. “You got any plans?” 

“Other than taking Artie Trick or Treating and charging some crystals in the full moon, no.” 

“Come on, no wild parties? no hexing beautiful men into falling in love with you?” Penny asks. You laugh loudly, shaking your head. “Man, maybe the life of a witch was more exciting in my head.” 

“Yea, you did.” You laugh. “I’m basically just a cool rock collector plus love spells, so not my thing.” 

“So there’s such a thing?” 

“Yea there’s love spells. I don’t believe in using them. I think love itself is it’s own powerful being. It shouldn’t be manipulated with, if someone was meant to love me they would.” 

“Speaking of love and love spells…” Silena pipes up from the display case she was loading pastries she just made into. “Penelope, how’s your boss?” You glare over at her. 

“Hotch?” Penny asks looking between the two of you before smirking at you. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I don’t.” You say at the same time as Silena says. “She has a Texas sized crush on him.” 

Garcia practically squeals at that. “Let me set you up please.” 

“No, Penny.” You say, immediately 

“Why not?” Her and Silly say at the same time. 

“Because… I don’t know didn’t his wife just die months ago, it’s hardly appropriate for me to try swoop in.” 

“Ex-wife. They were already long divorced before she died.” Penelope adds 

“Still! It’s not appropriate.” You say. 

“So what? You’re just going to keep making him free coffee until he realizes you're into him?” 

“Yup” you say adding the 3rd cup to Garcia’s carrier. “Give that to Grumpy for me please.” Garcia opens her mouth to say something but you just hold up your hand cutting her off 

“Fine.” She says, grabbing the carrier. “Only because I have to go to work though, this conversation isn’t over.”  

“Yes it is.” You call after her. 

——————————————

You were back in the shop. Artie was tuckered out after a long night of trick or treating and crashing from her sugar high so you decided to charge some of your crystals and do some balancing spells, knowing for a fact a lot of teenagers did stupid shit to upset the balance. 

As you were lighting the candles and incense, you heard a knock at the door. You were long closed so who could possibly need something right now? You look out the window and Aaron is standing there. You’re confused but you let him in anyway. 

“Hey Grumpy, what’re you doing here?” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were closed, I guess I’ve never been here at night. I’ll go. I'm sorry for bothering you.” He says turns to go but you grab his arm to stop him. 

“Gus… it’s almost midnight, no business is open. You’re here because there’s obviously something upsetting you so I’m not just going to let you leave.” You all but push him into barstool. “Now like I said it’s almost midnight so there is something important I need to do so if you’ll sit tight for like 2 minutes, I’ll make us coffee.” 

Hotch obliges, sitting silently watching you as you lit some candles on the altar you kept in the shop. You placed the honey cake you had made earlier in the day on the altar before whispering. 

“Thank you to the patron, Artemis, Great goddess of Moon and Magic. Mistress of deer and owl. Be thou my guide and Inspiration. Teach me Thy mysteries and lead me in thy ways.” You stand and turn back to Hotch who is watching you intensely. “Sorry about that, midnight is her favorite time. Coffee?” You ask, He nods as you move behind the counter. 

“Can I ask what it is you just did?” Hotch ask. 

“That?” He nods. “It’s a full moon so since Artemis is my patron goddess, it’s best to leave a sacrifice to stay in her favor.” You shrug. He looks at you like you're crazy but you're used to that look. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s no different then some catholic practices. In fact, Christians often stole from pagan practices, and only one is just considered ‘taboo’ now.” 

“Is that why you named your child Artemis, because she’s your Patron?” He asks. 

“Actually, Artemis is my Patron because of Artie.” You say, he looks at you as if asking you to continue. “I wasn’t always like this.” You say gesturing to yourself and the shop. “My parents are pastors and for a long time I was this faith devout christian girl. But I got pregnant out of wedlock, my parents disowned me and I was looking for something to turn to. I met Silena and she introduced me to Wicca, and said whoever my Patron was through meditation and study, They’ll reveal themselves to me. So I went months, meditating daily, and still nothing was working. Then I went into labor, and everything was going wrong. I thought, this was my punishment from god for not only getting pregnant without marriage but turning to witchcraft. I had to have an emergency C-section. And when I was on the operating table, I almost died, Artie almost died. I started to see these images of deer and boar running through the forest. And finally when I came back to, and I could hear my baby crying, the first thing I saw when my eyes opened was the full moon out the window.” You sigh, sliding a cup to Hotch before moving from behind the counter to take a seat next to him. “That’s when I realized the goddess had saved me and my child. And while Artemis prefers virgin patronage, and that ship had long sailed past back then. I figured naming my child after her was the next best thing.”  

“That’s a beautiful story, Y/N.” He says, looking at you sincerely.   

“Thank you, and since you’re not running for the hills, why don’t you tell me why you really knocked at my door at midnight.” 

“It’s just…” He starts, clearing his throat. “Tonight was the first ‘major’ holiday without Haley. And I tried to take Jack’s mind off it, make it fun but it was like this looming weight above us. That it wasn’t the same without her and that it never would be. And I was upset and just wanted to take a walk but I guess my feet carried me here.” He shrugged. 

“Well I’m glad you’re here grumpy. And you’re healing you need to give yourself time--” 

“I don’t have time!” He snaps. You flinch back a bit, having never heard his raised voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just-I don’t have time to heal. I have to be there for Jack.”

“Who’s there for you, Aaron?” You ask. He looks at you confused. You hardly ever call him by his name. It's either grumpy or gus or a combination of the two. Never by his actual name, he hated how much he liked how it sounded coming from your lips. “Do you know what a rock tumbler is?” you ask, he shakes his head confused where you’re going with this. You run behind the counter to retrieve the box you had dug through the very first night you met.

“Well a rock tumbler is a device you put rocks into. Rocks that have eroded, rocks that have trekked the earth, rocks that have been to hell and back. And what you do is you put them in this device with a little bit of water and you wait. Days, weeks, months all the while this device is just spinning, you don’t see what’s happening on the inside but after a while, when the time is right, you get these beautiful lustrous stones.” You say, showing him the box. “Healing is the same way, others don’t see you working. But in the end, they’ll see the result. And you’ll feel the result too. But if you don’t take that step you don’t end up with gems like these. You just end up with an eroded dingy rock.” You look up at Hotch and he’s tearing up slightly. Your heart melts. “Do you want a hug?” you say. 

“You don’t have to--” 

You cut him off. “No one on earth gives hugs because they have to. I want to give you a hug if you want one. So do you want a hug?” 

He nods, fastly. So you stand, he follows suit and allows you to pull him down into a full embrace. Your arms around his neck and shoulders, he envelopes you fully into his torso, arms tight around your waist. You sigh, content. Before shaking yourself out of it. This wasn’t about you. No matter how right it felt. 

After a minute or so you break apart. You look him in the eyes and he’s staring back at you in what feels like admiration. You clear your throat. “Can I give you something?” you ask.

“Is it another crystal?” He asked back. 

“Yes, it is.” You rummage through the box before pulling out the one you needed. “This is Aragonite, it’s good for healing old wounds and building emotional strength. Now I can gift you this but you have to activate it yourself. Even if you don’t believe it, I feel like it’s good words to hear yourself say anyway.” You grab his left hand, sliding the crystal into it. He looks into your eyes. “Now say, I release past wounds and embrace resilience.” 

Hotch sighs. “I release past wounds and embrace resilience.” He then slides the stone in his pocket. Before grabbing your hand again. “Thank you, Y/N” 

“Anytime, Grumpy.” You say.  

Taglist: @megatrexus @roses-and-grasses​ @tittymuncher69​ @liaabsurd​ @ladyravenclaw​ @genevievedarcygrangerreading​ @softbibxtch​ @xxdisappearwithoutatracexx​

sweeter than honey (redux)

Pepper Potts did not exactly mean to become a criminal. Really, she still doesn’t think she is. 

But here are the facts: 

1.) She has broken several laws in pursuit of funds that do not belong to her. 

2.) The FBI would like to talk to her about several things and potentially put her under arrest. 

3.) She can no longer go to her regular coffee shop because the barista snitched and told them her name, as well as her occupation. 

Pepper broke several laws because the company she was working for (Stane International) was technically breaking laws, but laws that do not apply to corporations because corporations do this thing called “funding campaigns” and also sometimes “doing favors.” 

She decided to do the same and suddenly she is a criminal. Not her fault she redistributed money back into the community, and now they can’t get any of it back. 

It’s just how that worked out. 

She’s been staying at a hotel that serves many questionable individuals each month, and it has an indoor pool and a three-star rating on the latest travel website. 

It’s nondescript, not her style, and she’s currently in the bathroom having a crisis because she most likely needs to dye her hair. 

She’s vain. Pepper knows she is, has known it since high school when she trimmed her hair and cried. Her hair, by all accounts, is gorgeous. It’s a shiny strawberry-blonde that makes her look like an ice queen in winter and a mysterious fairy queen in summer. 

She does not want to dye it. But here she is with an eight dollar box of dye and thoughts in her head. 

And then her hotel door opens. 

Not supposed to do that, but that’s what happens when you’re in a three-star hotel. 

She is also in old athletic shorts that have most definitely seen better days and a tank top that was a last-minute buy from the nearest store, and it does not suit her at all. 

Facing her is a man with an odd beard, tinted sunglasses, and a graphic t-shirt over a blazer. 

“So. You pissed off Stane Industries,” he drawls. “I’m impressed. Usually they just sweep their little problems under the rug.” 

“I’ll sweep you under one if you’d like,” Pepper offers, wondering how quickly a blowdryer can knock someone out. She’s not sure how well-made the hotel one is. Probably not very. 

“I’m not here to kill you,” the man says. He takes off his sunglasses. His eyes are a nice shade of brown, not that you’re supposed to notice that about a potential enemy. Pepper is just that skilled. 

“Then what are you here to do? Make me move to Florida?” 

“No, the opposite. We’re staying here. I’m offering you a job position of helping me take down Obadiah Stane and the company itself.” 

“Who would I be working with?” 

“Anthony Stark.” 

Pepper stills. 

She read the news when she was in college, same time as Tony Stark. Went missing in the car crash, no one found his body. Temperatures were freezing, he was wearing a tuxedo. The chances were that he froze to death somewhere that they didn’t find yet. 

Chances were. What an odd little phrase. 

“So, you made it out.” 

“Not as hard as people say it seems to be, Virginia.” 

“Call me Pepper, my first name disgusts me.” 

“Gotcha, Pepper. Call me Tony. You in?” 

“Obviously. What do I need to do?” 

“Meet the team.” 

-

There is Rhodey, who was Tony’s best friend and sobbed on national television for two weeks until they forgot all about him. 

“He’ll cry at anything,” Tony says with a laugh as Rhodey sends him a dirty look. “Just made him think about neon shoes and he bawled like a baby.”

“I did not,” Rhodey hisses. “I was a good crier.” 

 “You looked like a seal,” Pepper intervenes. “But you played the part quite well. Nice to meet you.” 

“Right back at you, Pepper.” 

She meets Happy, a man who is all serious and grumpy and “did not want to break the law before forty” but he also gets to watch Downton Abbey whenever he wants, so he’s not doing too bad. 

He runs security and also tells Rhodey and Tony when they’re banned from ordering pizza all the time, and Pepper is inducted into the Healthy Eating Committee. 

There’s Bruce Banner, who enjoys taking over corporations for fun, and this is his second one. His first was some sort of health insurance scam, and apparently that was just to finish up his thesis for his third doctorate. 

“He has seven degrees, he’s weird,” Tony says. 

“Oh like you’re any better,” Bruce says with a snort. “You learned twelve languages for fun. Including French, which is useless.” 

“French is not useless,” Tony says. “It got us free food in Canada.” 

“We would’ve gotten it anyway if we’d done it my way.” 

“Stealing?” Rhodey asks. 

“Yes!” 

Pepper laughs. 

- 

Their job is a bit easier than anticipated. They found out from Pepper that getting into the building is stupid easy because no one likes their job and will do anything when bribed. 

Tony struts in with a badly-made-employee-ID and talks about a copying machine and coffee and seeing someone next month for dinner. Pepper just keeps her head down and pretends like she’s meeting someone for something. Like usual. 

Obadiah Stane is out of the country on a meeting, and his secretary is scared to death of him, so they’re allowed to poke around the office and find some interesting information. 

The problem comes when someone recognizes Bruce outside (government watchlists: the most pesky things on earth) and suddenly there’s this huge fuss. 

Tony pushes Pepper into an office closet and then promptly asks her if anyone opens the door, if she’s alright with him kissing her. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“People don’t like watching kissing, too intimate. Also, you have a lovely face and you’re quite funny, and I think it’d be fun and delightful to kiss you.” 

“How long have you thought about that?” 

“Not going to talk about that, just want an answer. If you say no--and feel free to, there’s no obligation in physical contact right now--it does complicate plans A to D. I suppose we could play the divorced couple route, but I’m not a gigantic fan about that.” 

“I mean, I guess? It wouldn’t be bad, and I’m not exactly opposed to it, Would it mean anything later?” 

“Do you want it to?” 

“Let’s figure that out after we do it.” 

“If we need to do it.” 

Door swings open. 

Oh, there’s a need. 

Tony is a particularly nice kisser, Pepper thinks. The thought runs through her head that she’s only kissed two people before Tony, and one was in high school so that doesn’t count, but the other was a secretary at an old company she used to work for.

But Tony is nice. Soft and warm and he grabs her waist and that’s nice. 

“Oh my god, sorry,” the employee mutters. “I just, I thought--” 

“Occupied!” Tony says, not even stopping as he kicks out his leg and practically stomps the poor other guy in the stomach. 

They get out, run, and Pepper laughs as she sees a bit of pink lipstick on the side of Tony’s mouth. 

“So, how’d I do?” 

“Send me a survey,” Pepper remarks. “Or a ranking.” 

“On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Seven.” 

“I was that bad?” 

“How do you rank things? Do you put one as the best?” 

“Obviously.” 

“No, you’re an idiot. One is always the worst. You’re a nine. It would’ve been higher but we were in a corporate office and in a supply closet.” 

“So what you’re saying is, I’ll have to try again?” 

“Preferably over a couple glasses of wine and pizza. The good kind, though. Not the garbage Rhodey orders.” 

They approach the car that Happy has, with Rhodey and Bruce already leading others on a goose chase. 

“You two have too much fun,” Happy mutters. “Boss, you got lipstick on your side. Did you get the drives?” 

“Transferred and set to release to every major news outlet tomorrow morning at six a.m.,” Tony says. “Interns are going to curse my name as they’re forced to rewrite articles.” 

Pepper smiles. 

That night, they have a couple of glasses of wine and Tony orders the good pizza, the kind that costs a little bit too much for what it is, but it’s all worth it in the end. 

- 

When Tony takes over the company after about six months of legal battles that would probably have drawn on for well over a decade if not for the fact that Tony is one of the most in-your-face-let’s-talk men she’s ever met, Pepper was kind of expecting things to slow down. 

Of course not. That’s not her style nor is it Tony’s, although arguably a vacation or a nice spa day would have been nice beforehand. 

“We have shit to do,” Tony says. “Rhodey, you need to help me revamp R&D. Pepper, I need to talk to you in the office.” 

They’ve already hired a company to completely redesign the entire building and refocus the company’s outlook, starting with getting rid of the disgusting 1970s carpet and chairs. God, it’s ugly. Pepper cried when she saw the office chairs. 

But she’s in Tony’s office, and she’s wondering if this is going to be directly related to workplace relationships or not. She’s already prepared an argument as to why she still wants a relationship and just how much professionalism she can exhibit in the face of hardship. 

(That hardship being the fact that Tony looks quite good in suits but also has arms that are made for tank tops.) 

“I have a problem with you,” Tony says. “And it’s that I want to make you CEO, but I don’t want people to think that you got it just because we’re dating. So we have an issue to cross.” 

Pepper was not expecting this. She was expecting maybe head accountant, or head of the PR team. But CEO? That was something that was...wow. Pepper had had a fifteen year plan for working up from wherever it was that she would be at. 

She also didn’t know they were dating. 

“We’re dating?” 

“Did I read the kiss wrong? Oh shit, was the seven secretly the bad seven?” 

“No!” Pepper says. “You just never told me that we were dating, we didn’t have a communicative conversation about it.” 

“Oh. Well, would you like to go on dates and things?” 

“What’s ‘and things’?” 

“You know. Sexy times. But I wanted to be a professional about it. But I am not that professional.” 

“No, no you’re not. Which is why you offered me the CEO position and why I am accepting it. But I will also date you...and things.” 

“Excellent. Have a dinner tonight while we discuss how to do Microsoft Excel?” 

“I already know how to use it.” 

“Pepper, you are the only woman for me in this lifetime and the next.” 

“And the one after that?” 

“I’m assuming you’ll get bored of me and marry someone who’s seven feet tall.” 

“Seven feet tall? What, am I going to attend every NBA game for the next husband?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know what you’ll do. I’ll probably be halfway into a grave over despair.” 

Pepper chuckles, dropping a short kiss onto his temple. 

“Well, I hope I don’t have to witness that. You want me to make some salad for tonight then?” 

“Yes please! We also need to review the decor and see what chairs to order.” 

Pepper nods. 

“We need to ask Rhodey, he has opinions about design of those.” 

“Of course he does, he hates standing too long. We’ll send him some of our options.” 

She waves as she leaves the office. 

What Tony misses: 

Pepper pumps her fist as she leaves the office, nearly stumbles, and is quite glad that no security cameras were installed that day. 

What Pepper misses: 

Tony spins so hard in his office chair as a celebration that it topples over. 

Yeah, they’re made for each other. 

Better Than Revenge | (2/?)

Title: Better Than Revenge Summary: Karma Inc.’s business structure is simple - clients hire them when they’ve been grievously wronged and they send one of their revenge mercenaries to right them. As painstaking as their efforts to remain ethical may be, that may be tested when former detective, Rosé, enlists the squad to pick up where she couldn’t on a much higher scale, with potentially greater consequences. Word Count: ~2.6k (this chapter) | ~5.3k (total) Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx), Jankie (Jackie Cox/Jan Sport), Halldoll (Nicky Doll/Jaida Essence Hall), Gimone (Gigi Goode/Symone), Gottlux (Gottmik/Olivia Lux) Rating: T

TW for this chapter: implied domestic abuse, attempted sexual coercion of a minor, deadnaming/transphobia

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Rosé learns Nicky, Jan, and Mik's revenge origin stories

-

Milwaukee, WI - 2007

“I think my parents are starting to get suspicious,” Jaida quietly confessed, her gaze downcast to the floor while Nicky sat behind her, braiding her hair.

Nicky frowned, her brows furrowed as she tied off the braid she’d put Jaida’s hair in with a hair elastic. “What is making you say that?” she asked, moving so she was facing the other girl and taking her hands into her own.

She shrugged, fumbling with the hem of her shirt until Nicky’s grasp stilled them. “Just feels like they’re snooping around more, suddenly real interested in my life. And you know they’re always acting weird whenever we’re at my house together. Last time they made us keep the door open, remember?”

“I had assumed that was an American thing,” she confessed. She had only moved to the states a couple of months ago, at the start of her and Jaida’s junior year of high school, and she was still learning how to differentiate cultural differences from people behaving unusually to her specifically.

“You think everything you don’t understand is an American thing,” Jaida rolled her eyes with a fond smile, “though I guess you’re right most of the time,” she conceded.

Nicky shrugged it off, redirecting back to the topic at hand. “But you’re worried they’re going to find out about us and poop will hit the ceiling.”

“Shit will hit the fan,” she corrected, then sighed. “I mean, think about it — my mom’s a Sunday school teacher and my dad’s the son of a preacher, they take ‘traditional family values’ very seriously. And I don’t know how things are in France but there’s nothing traditional about this,” she explained, gesturing between the two of them.

She frowned, her brows knitting together. “But we are happy together, surely once we graduate, we can—”

“It’s not that simple, Nicky!” Jaida tossed her head back and groaned. “I love you, but in a place like this, sometimes love just ain’t enough.”

And maybe it was denial, or maybe it was blind optimism, but Nicky had refused to take that answer lying down. She fought for Jaida and fought even harder to keep the relationship away from her disapproving parents. For a while, it seemed to be working, they had their beautiful, fleeting moments that let them believe that everything would be okay.

It was the first day back after spring break and Nicky immediately noticed a change in her girlfriend. It was like the life and light had been drained from her like she was only present physically. And despite the warm weather, she was dressed for late fall. She rushed towards her, taking her hand. “Ma chérie, what’s wrong? You look so unwell.”

Jaida hesitated before pulling her hand away. “I can’t hang around you anymore,” she replied. “Though I’m not gonna see anyone around here for a while starting real soon,” she mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“My parents found out, Nicky,” she choked out, forcing back a sob, “and they were mad, I ain’t never seen them so mad. They’re sending me to military school… well, they gave me a choice between that and conversion therapy… seemed like the better option.”

Nicky bit down on her quivering lip. “But you can find me when you are done, right?” She reached out to her again, but Jaida backed away to step out of her grasp.

“I can’t. Besides, you won’t want me anyway, I won’t be the same person.”

She tried to grab for her once more, desperate to keep her, looking at her with watery, pleading eyes. “Jaida, I can’t—”

“Please,” she sniffled, “don’t make this harder than it’s already gonna be.”

And perhaps Nicky should have let it go, accepted losing her first love, and moving on with her life. Sure, she would eventually. She would move around for school, for work, meeting many beautiful women along the way, but none of that happened until she made sure Jaida’s parents experienced at least a fraction of the hurt they had caused the both of them.

Her plan had been elaborate and convoluted and would require a heavy amount of stealth work and computer literacy to pull off. But as it turned out, her plan of convincing the two parents that the other was cheating on them was quite easy when her snooping unearthed the fact that both of them already were. All she needed to do was bring it to light.

Present Day

“When you think about it,” Nicky mused, “I did them a favor. There are worse ways they could’ve found out than having an envelope full of proof dropped off at your workplace. At least no one made a scene… as far as I know, at least.”

“Does Jaida know?” Rosé asked. “Now that you guys have reconnected, have you caught her up to speed? Because it seems like something you should tell her.”

Nicky winced and looked away. “It… has not come up yet,” she murmured. “There is no easy way to inform someone that you were the catalyst in their parent’s divorce. Unless you have a way, in which case, feel free to share with the class.”

She shrugged, putting her hands up in surrender. “I got nothing, but my point remains. It’s gonna bite you in the ass badly if you wait too long to say anything.” When Nicky shrugged it off, she decided to move on. “What about you, Bubbles?” she asked, looking towards Jan, “what sort of scathing revenge does someone as bouncy as you come up with?”

Jan pressed her lips into a fine line, holding back what was either a smile or a grimace. “Well, this also happened in high school, an all-girl Catholic school, of course…”

Old Bridge, NJ - 2009

Jan was nothing if not brave. Coming out in tenth grade, especially considering the environment she was in, was a choice that couldn’t be taken lightly. While she had the support of her family and closest friends, the school environment had been a different story.

“Janice, could you stay back for a moment?” her math teacher, a conventionally attractive man in his early thirties, prompted as the final bell rang.

With math being her weakest subject, Jan was instantly concerned and nodded. “Of course, sir. Is something wrong?” she asked as she walked over to his desk.

“I think something is very wrong,” he replied as he got up. “Janice, I am highly concerned with your mental wellbeing.” He stopped in front of her, cupping her face with both hands. “You’re such a bright, beautiful girl. It would be such a shame for you to throw that away because you’ve chosen to shun God and live in sin.”

Jan felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach and her throat tighten. This was inevitable, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. She started shaking her head. “N-No, I’m… I’m not, I—”

“Shh…” he pressed his thumb to her lips to quiet her, then swiped it across her bottom lip. “Part of being a good Christian is overcoming temptation. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? Isn’t it what your parents want for you?” His hands move to her shoulders, squeezing them gently. “God gave you this body to lay with a man, you just need to be put in the right direction before it’s too late. I could help you, I could save you.”

Jan felt sick to her stomach. She hated every moment of the interaction; she hated the feeling of his hands on her, the way he was leering at her body, undressing her with his eyes. But at the same time, it was hard to lean into that hate, because he did pick on every insecurity she had in regards to her faith. But her sense of self won out and she was able to free herself of his grasp and run out of the room as fast as her legs would take her.

Any shame or guilt she might have felt was quickly replaced by anger and a desire to stop the man that tried to rob her of her innocence from harming anyone else. But she was still cautious, she knew there was a risk of retaliation if she spoke out alone, that was when her plan formed.

She created a fake Facebook account of a fifteen-year-old girl who was ‘planning on transferring to her school’. That was why she messaged the teacher, and after a few days of exchanging messages, ‘Samantha’ had agreed to meet up with him, the conversation in no uncertain terms making his intent clear.

Now, the obvious path from there would have been to go to the police, but that wasn’t good enough for Jan. Instead, she went to her godfather, who had promised he’d always help her ‘by any means necessary’. So, it was neither the police nor ‘Samantha’ that met the teacher at the park. Instead, it was two burly men who drove home a rough lesson that he was to turn himself in the next day, lest he face even worse consequences. He’d been given a flash drive with a copy of the whole exchange and was told he had exactly twenty-four hours and that the police would be expecting him.

Of course, those details weren’t in the subsequent news story of the teacher’s arrest. The conviction, however, was disappointing to Jan, as it was only two years and a thousand dollar fine, as well as losing his teaching license and having to register as an offender.

Present Day

“But rest assured, people are keeping an eye on him these days. You know, should he ever try and act up,” Jan explained with a shrug.

Rosé’s mouth was hanging open by the time Jan had finished her story. “So, you put a hit out on a pedo. I mean, shit, color me impressed,” she chuckled softly, then quickly followed up with, “I’m so sorry any of that happened to you, though. I’ve had people in my life try to weaponize religion against me after I came out. It’s never an easy pill to swallow.” She then looked at the group curiously. “Are you all…”

“Mik’s pan but yeah, the rest of us are gay,” Gigi confirmed with a nod. “At first, I thought that’d be the only thing we all have in common, but here we are now.”

“Chosen family is super important,” Mik agreed, “you never know who you can’t trust in your bloodline.”

Rosé quirked her brow. “That what happened to you?”

Scottsdale, AZ - 2015

Mik had been sitting across from his parents in dead silence for the past five minutes. There was no easy way to break it, let alone a correct one. On the coffee table in front of them were printed pictures of screenshots from his private Twitter account, where he presented himself as his true identity, but the precautions he took weren’t enough.

“Kady, sweetheart, I’m sure Uncle Joe brought this to our attention with your best interest at heart,” his mother said in as sweet of a voice as she could muster, which only served to sound fake to her son.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh please, don’t give me that. If it was ‘concern’ he would’ve told you privately. He sent it to the family group chat then told you that, and I quote, ‘your daughter thinks she’s a tranny’,” he struggled to keep his tone even, but he knew he needed to coddle his parents’ feelings if he wanted a chance of being taken seriously.

“I’m sure it just caught him by surprise,” his father offered.

Mik groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even if he did, he wasn’t treating it like a fun piece of gossip, he hunted down my private account and outed me to humiliate me, and it would mean a lot if you guys had my back on this.”

This brought another wave of silence upon his parents. He couldn’t get a clear read on them, but they seemed stressed, confused, and most painfully, they seemed sad. His mother slowly picked her head back up. “Kady, I—”

“My name is Mik.”

“Listen, honey, you’re going to have to give us some time to adjust,” his dad tried to ease the tension, “you’re still our child, but this isn’t an easy thing to process, your mother especially is mourning the loss of her daughter.”

Mik felt his chest tighten in anger and hurt. “But I’m not—” he got up, shaking his head. “Right, fine,” he mumbled and escaped to the sanctuary of his bedroom. Left alone with his thoughts, the anger he had towards his parents dissipated and the rage shifted solely onto his uncle. After all, this was his fault. He was the one that robbed him of the opportunity to come out on his terms, and with the active intent to cause harm.

The anger didn’t go away over the following weeks. Instead, it built up, it festered inside of him as the summer after high school began. He had downloaded Grindr out of casual curiosity, and it was only a matter of minutes before a profile caught his eye. “No fucking way,” he grinned.

Of course, it was Joe, Mik realized how much of a cliche it was, but that didn’t change the fact that his bigoted uncle that tried to ruin his familial relationships was soliciting male escorts on a gay dating app. The opportunity for revenge essentially fell into his lap. He made a fake account and exchanged messages with him, just enough to get the evidence he needed.

The last step was simple, he dropped the screenshots into the same group text without any comment and removed himself from the group chat right after. He didn’t need to see the chaos unfold, Uncle Joe’s absence from the next family gathering was all he needed.

Present Day

“Just to be clear,” Mik added as he finished the story, “I’m against outing people, for the most part, obviously it should be something done on your terms. But shit, sometimes it’s gotta be an eye for an eye, you know?”

“Wait, I have a question,” Jan chimed in, “is he out now? Do y’all even talk to him anymore?”

He shook his head. “He moved to Alabama, I guess he wanted to go somewhere to double-down on the bigotry. No idea what happened after that. But, you know, good fucking riddance.”

“Amen to that,” Rosé agreed. “I don’t know how you guys have figured out that line of deciding what’s morally sound and what’s ethical enough. It seems to work, but it seems hard.”

“Jackie helped a lot with that,” Jan told her, her face lighting up and her smile broadening as she continued, “she has this pragmatic take on these things while still understanding that there’s so much ambiguity and morally gray areas. She’s honestly the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Rosé nodded as she listened. “I’m glad you guys have someone like that on your team. How long have you two been dating?”

Jan turned bright red, worsened by the way the rest of the group laughed. “Oh, um, we’re not dating. She and I are… very close friends,” she explained.

“Ah,” the corners of her lips tugged into a smirk, “you’re just fucking, got it,” she observed, causing another eruption of laughter from the others, much to Jan’s chagrin. Once it died down, she redirected her attention to the half of the group that had yet to recall their stories. “Alright, who’s next?”

Sugar and Coffee [9]

Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 9.5 OR Chapter 10

➜ Words: 3.9k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

➜ Warnings: Heavy mentions of sexual themes.

cr.

Fuck romance.   That shit is overrated anyway. Everywhere you look, there’s love here and there — in television shows, movies, advertisements, short stories, novels. But it hits you like a train, like a light switch that finally turned on in your head, you don’t need love to be happy. You don’t need someone else. You’re perfectly content with being by yourself for the rest of your life. You’ll never have to shackle yourself down or compromise again. It’s the ultimate freedom.    “I approve this message.” Aeri nods several times.   “Right?!” You wipe away the cheeto dust that’s accidentally sprinkled on the pouch you call your stomach. Your sweater’s ridden up as you’re slumped over her bed. “Like do people even realize that almost half of marriages end in divorce?”   “Exactly.”   “Love? It’s all trash feelings. It’s a distraction. Why should I have to work hard for years and then throw away my career and ambition to stay at home and have kids and then eventually be divorced and have to fight over custody?” There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you shake your head.    “Men ain’t shit.”   “Hallelujah.” You don’t believe in love anymore, not when you’ve come to realize that you’ve been brainwashed for so long. Now, you were enlightened. But you just can’t believe you were so blinded and stupid in the first place. You were crying over a guy who wasn’t worth shit. “But where are you going?”   Aeri is dressed up in a summer outfit despite it being the end of February and still frigid outside. She looks at herself in the mirror, fixes her lipstick and then whirls around. “Oh, I’m just...meeting up with Hoseok.”   “You’re going on a date?”   A blush creeps up on her cheeks. “N-No. W-Well...he didn’t really call it that.”   “Oh my god, all my friends are leaving to the dark side.”   “Just for a little, love.” She winks at you and you can’t hate her when she’s so evidently excited. Aeri grabs her bag and smiles. “Well I shouldn’t make him wait. How do I look?”   “If Jung doesn’t cream himself, he doesn’t deserve you.”   The tips of her ears turn scarlet and she throws a pillow at you, making you laugh. You watch Aeri leave and then the silence settles. You sigh and get up to go to your only friend left.   Your fist pounds on his door for a good second until it opens.   “Jesus, try not to break it down, will you?”   “Hey, Yoongi,” you greet the person on the worn sofa, brushing past Jungkook. “Where’s the other guys?”   “Well, unlike you two, people actually have their own lives,” Jungkook mutters, flopping down to where his butt’s been imprinted into the couch seat and he resumes his game.   “Taehyung and Jimin are in class like good students,” Yoongi says, “and I’m only here cause Hope’s ditched me for a lame date apparently.”   “Same.”   “Is my room a refugee camp?” Jungkook glances over with his brow cocked. “Am I everyone’s second choice?”   “Get used to it,” Yoongi mutters, watching Jungkook play.   In the meanwhile, you walk over to Jungkook’s bed that’s sloppily made with the covers wrinkled, but at least the effort shows. You’re about to flop down and maybe roll over to take a nap, but then you pause, gawking at his collection of IU merchandise.   You’ve seen it before, but you realize you’ve never gotten a good look. There are posters of her from when she debuted in 2008 until the most recent comeback lining the corner of his wall like a small shrine. And over his bed is a shelf of albums and her lightstick. “Wow, you have a lot of her stuff. Must’ve costed a fortune.”   It occurs to you that he even had a substantial amount of IU things in his room at his parent’s home — little things that you didn’t pay mind to at the time — a sweater that was on a hook, more albums, some DVD sets, posters of her in her dramas.   Your comment seems to trigger a reaction from him. Jungkook pauses the game and those bambi eyes of his are rounded. He’s defensive. “What?”   “He’s got a massive hard on for her,” Yoongi snickers.   “Don’t talk about Jieun like that.”   You steal a glimpse of Jungkook, rather puzzled over his hobby. You just never expected Jeon Jungkook to have an idol, or rather, celebrity crush. “Why do you like her so much?”    He looks like he doesn’t even know where to start. “She’s just so...talented.”   “Oh, here we go again.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.   “Shut up,” Jungkook spits and then turns to answer your question seriously. “Her voice is beautiful, she’s good at singing, she can play guitar, and she’s really cute. She produces a lot of her music too. And her personality is great. She’s kind and funny. She donates a lot and stuff like that.” Jungkook shrugs. “I just like her.”   “Yeah I get it.” You nod while staring into IU’s eyes. “She’s pretty hot and cute. I’d do her if given the chance.”   His big nose wrinkles. “You act like you don’t have any celebrity crushes either.”   “True. If Song Joongki walked through the door right now, I would throw myself at his feet and he could do whatever he wants with me. He’s so handsome and such a sweet guy.” You sigh wistfully, wishing you had someone like that. “Do you have any celebrity crushes, Yoongi?”   “What’s her face from the Notebook.”   “Rachel McAdams?”   “Yeah, her.”   “Okay, I can see that. Jungkook!”   “What?”   “Would you smash or pass Rachel McAdams?”   He wrinkles his nose again. “Smash, I guess.”   “You guess.” A scoff comes from your throat. “What? You think you’re too good for her?”   “No. She’s just okay.”   “You’re wrong,” Yoongi deadpans, making you laugh.   You ask— “Okay, how about Sana from Twice? Smash or pass.”   “Smash.” — “Pass.”   Both you and Yoongi look at him with brows raised and you audibly gasp. “Dude, even I would smash her. Why would you pass? She’s cute and hot. Isn’t that your type?”   “No.” Jungkook snorts. “You don’t know my type.”   “Okay, so who would you smash then?”   “I don’t know. Maybe Gong Hyo Jin. That main girl from Master’s Sun.”   “Seriously?”   Jungkook glances over. “Why?”   “No, she’s pretty and really girl-next-door-ish. She’s just older, like twenty one years older than us.”   “Yeah, well, she’s good at what she does. She’s a good actress.”   Apparently being good at what they do is enough for Jungkook to want to bang them.   It’s a juvenile game, but a fun one. And it’s particularly interesting to hear both Yoongi and Jungkook’s responses. They’re unpredictable, unlike Taehyung who you’re sure would say yes to anything as long as it breathed, and Jimin who would be too shy to answer.   “How about people we know? Byun Baekhyun.”   “No.” Yoongi answers right away. “He’s so loud, he gives me a headache.”   “If you find him annoying, it makes for good hate sex.”   “Sure. But that’s still a no.”   “Okay then, who would you say yes to?”   “I don’t really swing that way but if I were to give it a shot, maybe Kim Jongin, just so he can teach me how he gets the ladies.”   “Word,” Jungkook mutters, concentrating on his game.   “Or maybe Lee Ken,” Yoongi points out. “His face looks good enough for me to spit on.”   “That’s disgusting.” Jungkook wears a distressed expression, looking at you as if to ask if you’re hearing the same things he is, but you merely laugh.   “Trust me, Ken’s a screamer. Jin told me about it when they shared a room during their first year.” You don’t notice how Jungkook pauses his game at the mention of your ex. He stares at you from across the room, on the edge of his seat, but you don’t have a trace of sadness on your features. “He’ll burst your eardrums. He’s a loud dude.”   “No thanks then.” Yoongi hums and bluntly considers, “Maybe Seokjin then. He’s pretty good looking. Looks spitable.”   You smile softly. “He’s too nice for you, Yoongi.”   You recall the faded memories with Seokjin, but they don’t make you feel so sad anymore. Your heart doesn’t ache as much. It makes you wonder if this is what it means to move on.   //   The cardboard box is in your lap as you study the small trinket in your hand before tossing it in. Everything that Jin ever gave to you, anything that’s associated with him, sweaters and tokens, key chains from amusement parks and stuffed animals he gave is thrown in the box or stuffed in a trash bag.   “I wonder if I’ll ever regret giving this stuff away.”   “Maybe, but you’ll always have new stuff and new memories and all that.”   “Yeah.” You remind yourself that you’re just making space for the new memories you’ll make — maybe with Aeri, maybe with Taehyung and Yoongi, Hoseok or Jimin, or Jungkook, or just by yourself.   Jungkook helps you put away the stuff, asking every once in a while if you wish to discard a certain object. You had asked for his help, afraid you would chicken out, and you promised him that in return, you would buy him a meal.   It seems like you owe a lot to Jungkook these days.   You donate it all before deleting all of Seokjin’s contact information on your phone. The pressed rose he once gave you on your first date and the first note he ever passed you in class is thrown away too.   Finally, you’ve severed your ties with Seokjin once and for all. It’s a bittersweet moment, like sugar mixed with coffee. Not quite sweet but not quite bitter.   The room seems emptier, but it’s welcoming.   “So where are you going to treat me?”   Suddenly, a light bulb flicks on inside your brain. Your entire face lights up and Jungkook notices, shifting on his spot in discomfort. It’s never good when you have ideas. “I think I know something better we can do.”   “Better than eating?”   “When was the last time you ate some pussy, Jeon?”   Jungkook chokes on his spit. He wheezes. And pounds his chest. Jungkook’s doe eyes look at you in horror like he’s been personally violated. “What?”   You repeat the question and he makes a strangled noise like he’s absolutely disgusted talking about this with you.    “Are you ten? Answer the question.”   “I don’t know! Maybe like over a year ago,” he rambles in a breath, “I dated a girl named Olivia for a few months but then it didn’t end up working out, so we broke up.”   You put your hand on your friend’s shoulder, squeezing securely while nodding once. “I think we're both deprived of some good pussy and cock.”   “So what do you propose?” He doesn’t know where you’re going with this.   “We go to a club and get ourselves some one-night stands.”   “That’s a terrible idea,” Jungkook spits without even needing to think. It’s instinctive. Impulsive. Like he knows not to squeeze a lemon into his eye, to not touch his crotch area after handling chili peppers, to not take toast out with a metal fork.   “Why not?” You shrug. “Some low-level commitment, no love or strings attached sex. We don’t need relationships to keep us satisfied and we don’t need to keep...you know handling it ourselves…” Your hand makes a rounded circle and you thrust back and forth obscenely, wiggling your brows, and it makes Jungkook groan.   “Oh my god. Please stop.”   “Listen, I’ll be the best wingwoman you’ve ever seen. I owe you, right? So I’ll find you the best fuck of life and then I’ll find my own. I see this as an absolute win-win.”   “It’ll be fun,” you insist and then pout when he continues to glare. “If you’re not coming, I’ll go by myself.”   “You’re not going by yourself,” Jungkook says.   “Why? You can’t tell me what to do. What are you, my dad?”   “Why? Because you’re an idiot. If I see you on the news, I’ll never be able to forgive myself….” You scoff and he continues. “—for being best friends with such an idiot…”   “Are you coming or not, jackass?”   Jungkook sighs.   //   It’s spontaneous. One moment he’s in your dorm room and the next blink, there are strobe lights flashing around, sweaty bodies, and deafening music. The alcohol on his tongue is certainly not enough to make him feel remotely sane. Jungkook didn’t even have enough time to drag Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok or Yoongi over. You told him that it was a two man mission and any more people would only serve as a distraction to the main goal.   He’s not sure what you think that goal is. Jungkook isn’t really a one-night stand kind of guy.   “Hey!” You scream in his ear above the booming beat, making him wince. Your breath is stained with that tequila. “What do you think of her?!” You point to a girl dancing on the floor. “She’s got a great ass!”   He internally sighs. “Why don’t you go fuck her then?!”   “What?” Your voice strains above the music.   “Go fuck her!” He points.   You frown, lips lopsided. “You want to suck her?!”    Jungkook’s last two brain cells are about to die. “Never mind!”   “What?!”   He shakes his head and then you giggle.    Jungkook wonders if you’re just fucking with him, but before he can even react and perhaps punch you, you’re leaning over the bar, waving your arm towards the bartender. “Excuse me! Can we get two shots again?!”   Of all the shit you make him go through, he’s hoping you don’t get drunk. He can’t carry your ass back to the dorm. His back is too precious for your idiocy.   The two of you down the alcohol given to you and he shudders after. The taste is sharp and beginning to dull his senses. You can feel it too, how the world is spinning faster and that’s when you begin, clasping your hands together. “Alright!” You lean in close to talk into his ear, breath skimming against his neck. “Let’s get down to business, Jeon. Anyone caught your attention yet? How about her?”   You signal to a busty girl sitting alone at the bar. She’s in a tight, red dress with her lips matching the same crimson shade. Her black hair contrasts the boldness, cascading down her back in waves.    Jungkook looks and then glances at you. “Not re—Hey! Where are you going?!”   You strut with drunken confidence, sliding up to the girl with plans to be the best wingwoman on this planet. “Is it always this noisy?”   The girl turns her head and visibly relaxes to see another female and not a greasy dude. “Well, it’s a club. So yeah, it usually is.”   “I’m just not used to it.” You sigh and take a seat on the stool. “Know any good drinks?”   “Chardonnay’s pretty good,” she tells you with a friendly, open expression. “Usually wine sucks at bars, but it’s pretty good here.”   “I’ll order it then,” you muse and extend your arm with a grin. “I’m Y/N.”   “Hyuna.” She shakes your hand, red lips curling.   “Can you do me a favour, Hyuna?” You point across the bar to Jungkook. He’s frozen. Watching you in horror like you’re trying to seduce his mom or something.    You wish he’d wipe that stupid fucking expression off his face. It’s not helping. Frankly, it ruins his looks and for once he’s not in gym shorts or sweatpants. Jungkook’s dark hair is gelled back, black dress shirt and black trousers fitted to his muscular frame. It took so much nagging to get him dressed up, but it was worth it. If he didn’t look so dumb, you would be proud of your best friend.   “My poor friend here really likes you, but he’s pretty shy. If you said hi, I’m pretty sure it would make his entire night.”   Hyuna gazes at him and her smile only widens. “I’d be happy to help.”   “Great!” You slide off the stool, strutting back. Inside your head, you are screaming for joy that you actually pulled that shit off on the first try without getting a drink thrown in your face.    Maybe you should consider switching career paths.   Jungkook leans in close to you when you’re in earshot distance. “What the hell are y—”   “Jungkook, this is Hyuna. Hyuna, this is Jeon Jungkook.”   Her hips sway as she approaches him and she extends her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”   Jungkook shakes it with a polite smile, trying to diminish the awkwardness and attempting to be civil. In the meanwhile, Hyuna’s cat-eyes sweep him up and down, focusing on how his pants are tight around the meat of his thighs.   Her perfume fills your senses. “Nice to meet you.”   You stick your nose between them. “Jungkook goes to baking school, so he knows how to knead dough! He’s really good at it!” You grab his wrist, pulling it up in front of her eyes. “Look at his hands!”   “Oh god, shut up.” If there was enough light in the room, you’re sure his face would be beet red. But unbeknownst to you, Jungkook’s embarrassment is second-hand. He takes his own hand back and looks at the stranger. “I’m so sorry for her behaviour. She’s obviously drunk.”   “I’m not!” You’re just….happier. A little giddy. On an energy high.   Hyuna giggles and looks between you both. “Are you two togethe—”   “No.” Jungkook cuts her off and is truly thankful his relationship with you isn’t like that. He can barely handle you as a friend. Anything more would frankly be overwhelming. “We aren’t.”   “Oh, okay, cool. I thought this was going to be a threesome situation.”   Jungkook starts wheezing as you giggle. You put your hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeeze. “Oh no, he can’t keep up with me. Not for miles. Anyway, I’ll leave you two at it. I should probably go to the bathroom, gotta take a leak.”   “Y/N.” Jungkook calls after you. “Y/N! L/N Y/N!”   He shouts after you, tightening his fist and wondering if you actually have the outrageous audacity to leave him behind like this with some chick you picked up like you just went grocery shopping. But much to his dismay, you don’t even glance behind you. You dive into the sweaty bodies, disappearing from sight.   He groans internally and turns back to Hyuna.   She smiles at him. “So you bake?”   “Yeah, well, I’m in this pastry program.”   “Wow.” Her thick lashes bat. “That’s so impressive! So you can make whatever dessert you want?”   “Working towards it.” He smiles meekly. “Are you, uh, here by yourself?”   Jungkook has never done this before, never talked to a girl like this — but so far it’s not bad. Probably because it was her who was salvaging the conversation and lessening the stiffness.   “It’s actually one of my friends’ birthday today, so we’re just out celebrating, but I lost them in the crowd.” She flashes a million watt smile. “I assume you’re just with your friend, Y/N?”   “Yeah, she dragged me out here. She’s a headache. I swear she’s shaving years off of my life.”   Hyuna laughs and bats his arm. She leans close and he swallows hard at the way her eyes sparkle, her lashes thick, and her cleavage is practically shoved in his face. “Want to dance?”   “I don’t really…”   “It’ll be fun. Trust me.” She takes his hand and drags him out on the floor.   In the meanwhile, half across the club, you’re dancing to the music. It’s not until a second later that you feel someone's hands on your waist and you turn around in their arms.    In dark lights, you make out a half-decent looking guy. “Shake that ass, babe.”   You smile at him, looping your arms around his neck. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. Giving into temptation and the heat of another person’s body, not having to commit to someone else and put yourself out there. Maybe you were doing it all wrong to begin with.   You don’t even know his name, but you dance with the stranger, your sweaty bodies moving against one another. You’re not sure how long it lasts, but eventually he presses his crotch to your front and offers to buy you a drink through a whisper in your ear.   When you get to the bar, you don’t see Jungkook and Hyuna anymore and you wonder if he’s getting lucky in the washroom or if he’s gone completely.    But you try not to dwell on what your best friend might be doing. You focus on the present moment and order a Strawberry Daiquiri. You’re sipping your drink as you talk to the guy. You don’t exactly catch his name, but it doesn’t matter. The fewer connections, the better. After all, you’re just looking for a rebound.   But you’ve never done this before and in your nervousness and intoxication, you end up on a tangent. “Like it’s so easy to make better cheesecake! And there’s so many kinds of cheesecake.”   “Cheesecake?” The tall blonde frowns as if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about.   “Yeah! Cheesecake! All you need is the crust, cream cheese, sugar, eggs, sour cream, vanilla extract, and all-purpose flour! My favourite is actually chocolate cheesecake in a restaurant back at home and they had chocolate wafer crumbs in the crust and it was so delicious, must have had ganache between the layers or something. I can’t remember anymore.”   “Oh, cool.” The guy glances around, looking at the other people on the dance floor and the bar. When he realizes you’ve stopped talking, he directs his attention to you again. “Uh, what’s a ganache?”   “Ganache? It’s just chocolate and heavy cream and you can use it as a glaze, icing, sauce, or filling for pastries. You’ve probably had it before if you’ve had chocolate cake!”   “I see.” His eyes flicker down to the swell of your chest exposed by your small black number, and they linger there. “You ever tried pouring chocolate over your body?”   “What?”   You realize he doesn’t care about baking — he doesn’t care for what you have to say.   The guy excuses himself to the bathroom and never comes back. After ten minutes of waiting, you sigh and check your phone. You stand up, ready to leave as it occurs to you one-night stands aren’t really your thing.   You’re about to text Jungkook, but you catch his mop of hair on the dance floor. He’s dancing with Hyuna, her back pressed to his front. His hands are placed on the dips of her waist, grinding his front against her ass that’s pushed out. You make a face of disgust before snapping a blurry picture and sending to the group chat.   But Jungkook seems to be having fun, out of breath, but still enjoying himself. You’re happy for him, glad that at least one of you is getting lucky tonight. Or rather, it was Hyuna getting lucky.   Jungkook’s a great catch. You wonder why you didn’t realize it sooner. Whoever ends up with him will be fortunate.

Reticence (soft! Yandere Hoseok)

Summary: You were always terrified of getting kidnapped when you were younger, and now that you’ve been taken by a man who claims to want to take care of you, you recede within yourself so far you refuse to even eat... but Hoseok is determined to let nothing hurt you, not even yourself.

Warnings: Kidnapping, kind of Stockholm syndrome, mentions of not eating so if you’re sensitive to that kind of stuff pls be careful <3 Yandere behaviour, though I am kind of romanticising it in this fic, please remember that that is all it is: Fiction. Obviously in real life this behaviour would be unacceptable and horrifying. 

Word Count: 2.2K

Masterlist :)

a/n: my first hobi fic!!! this is for @kpopgirlbtssvt​ from a request made about a billion years ago (sorry :/ ) for made-for-each-other verse! Yandere Hobi with a shy reader who wouldn’t talk even though he begged her to, and then him coming home from work to her telling him she missed him and was glad he was home. this was a lil less fluffy and a lil more angsty than i intended, but its still a ‘happy ending’ bc im a weak bitch with simple pleasures, what can i say lmao

Reticence

“What do you want for breakfast, sunshine?” 

Silence. 

Hoseok sighed, then straightened up again, walking over to the refrigerator. You remained sat by the kitchen island, empty gaze fixed on the marble countertop. 

“Omelettes it is, then!” He exclaimed with artificial excitement, trying to be cheery in the face of your taciturnity, but even the sunshiney optimist that was Hoseok was finding it more difficult than he expected. He had hoped that by now you would’ve accepted him, but you remained as quiet and unresponsive as the day he brought you home. Not that you thought of it as ‘home’ yet, but he hoped you would eventually. Hoseok was not a patient man, but he was willing to wait forever for you. 

You didn’t even blink when he set the plate down in front of you. It didn’t seem like you were going to attempt to eat it either. Hoseok sighed. He could understand if you didn’t want to talk to him yet — even though it had been months and he’d been nothing but kind to you — but he drew the line at refusing to eat. 

You had lost weight. The cute cheeks he loved to watch bunch up as you smiled were now sunken. Your beautiful figure which he had admired from afar was starting to become worryingly waif-like. Hoseok frowned, a crinkle between his brows forming for the first time as his usually exuberant features warped with agitation.

“Listen, Y/n-” Hoseok sat down at the kitchen island across from you, bracing his forearms against the table and leaning forwards. “You have to eat. I promise there’s nothing in it that could hurt you. Look, I’ll even eat it myself!” Hoseok carved out a small piece of the omelette and popped it in his mouth, exaggerating his chewing and swallowing. “See?” You offered no reaction, and Hoseok felt his disappointment join the omelette on its way down to his stomach. 

“I can understand that you maybe aren’t so happy with me right now, but that doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself. Just, please, please stop shutting me out.” His pleading tone did nothing to move you. You just sat there like a ghost, and a groan of frustration slipped out of Hoseok. 

“Please! I’m begging you! Just eat! I don’t understand, all I want to do is take care of you! All I want to do is love you, why won’t you accept me? Why won’t you even talk to me?” 

The only sound was Hoseok’s harsh breaths after his outburst. If he couldn’t see the slow rise and fall of your chest, Hoseok would think you weren’t alive at all. He slumped in his seat, allowing himself to wallow in self-pity for a moment, before forcing himself to get up and ready for work. When he passed through the kitchen again on his way out the door you were still sitting there, staring at the countertop. 

The front door banged shut, the sound echoing in the apartment. Then, silence. And then, very quietly, the noises of cutlery moving against a plate and chewing. 

~~~~~~

“I don’t know what to do~” Hoseok whined, his head buried in his hands. Around him, his shocked friends were gathered in an informal circle. Each of them had an expression with varying degrees of surprise and confusion — they had never seen Hoseok, the literal personification of sunshine, so dismayed. 

“It’ll be ok, Hoseok. I know it’s bad at the moment, but you just have to wait until she trusts you. Once you achieve her trust, you’ll both be the happiest you’ve ever been.” Taehyung reassured him. Taehyung was obviously the source of authority, since him and his wife were basically the perfect couple. 

“But what if she never trusts me?” Hoseok fretted, before groaning again. “She won’t even eat! I don’t know what to do, I’m just watching her slowly starve in front of me and she won’t even look at me!” The rest of the group paused as they digested this new information. It seemed this girl was particularly stubborn.

“Force feed her then.” Jin shrugged and Hoseok’s head shot up in outrage.

“No! I could never hurt her like that!”

“You’re hurting her by letting her starve.” Jeongguk pointed out, and Namjoon smacked the back of his head, chastising. Meanwhile, Hoseok looked like he was about to cry.

“Listen, Hoseok, are you sure this girl is the one?” Jimin questioned, bracing his clasped hands on his knees. 

“I know she is.” Hoseok replied with a conviction he rarely used. “The second she came into my life, it was like I was born again and she was the first thing I saw. The only thing I could see. Her face- God, it just… glows. She’s like sunshine. She’s an angel. She’s so beautiful and kind and fragile and I want to protect her from everything, and I don’t deserve her but no one else does either and I know we’re meant to be together. If I thought I could’ve let her go, I would have. But I can’t. I have to have her, she has to be mine.” 

The circle of men was quiet for a second, before a quiet chuckle broke the silence. 

“Well then,” Yoongi rasped, “if she’s all that you say she is-”

“She is.” Hoseok interjected fiercely.

“Then all you can do is have a little patience.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was incredibly boring being kidnapped. Especially when your kidnapper did nothing interesting except make bad food and dance along to music from the TV surprisingly well and cry sometimes when you wouldn’t look at him. Frankly, it would have been easier if he were more of the torturey-type, because it was really hard to stay stubborn in the face of his sparkling eyes and radiant smile.

When you were younger, there was a poster up on the wall of your homeroom at school. On it was an old man with an ugly sneer and a beige trench-coat, with the slogan ‘DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS’ superimposed in glaring red letters. You used to stare up at the poster and wonder how anyone could be so stupid as to talk to someone who looked like that. 

You were never afraid to yell ‘STRANGER DANGER’ at the highest decibel your little lungs could manage whenever a person brushed too close to you in the mall. It was almost a habit — you were avidly fixated on your own personal safety, much to your mother’s chagrin and public embarrassment. Being banned from all the surrounding stores within a 20 mile radius had two consequences:

You had to drive forty minutes for a new pair of socks.

You stayed at home a lot more than you went out.

You became a homebody, and it was certainly not something you were unhappy about. Staying safe in your room meant there was less risk for someone to kidnap you. The comforting layer of your blanket was a shield from everything bad in the world. When your parents were arguing constantly, screaming at each other every other night, you would just tuck yourself in and read a bedtime story on your own since they were both occupied. When your parents eventually divorced, you buried yourself under your duvet rather than answer their questions about who you wanted to stay with, and what your preference was. When your mom died in a car crash, and your dad started drinking, your mattress was the shoulder you could cry on, your blanket was a warm arm holding you close. You had always felt safe in your bed. Perhaps that was why you were having such an averse reaction to being taken from it.

Hoseok was not a man with an ugly sneer and a trench coat. He had an impeccable sense of style, and his smile was breathtaking on the few occasions that it appeared. You more often saw his face twisted into a pained grimace. For a kidnapper, he was awfully sensitive. You were pretty sure it was reasonable for you to be holding grudge, and it’s not as if you were actively fighting against him or anything. You were just refusing to acknowledge him. You were highly skilled at repressing things, or ignoring them, and you were resolved to do the same now. 

By 7 o’ clock, your resolve was slightly eroded. Hoseok always arrived back at half-past 5 on the dot. He was a very punctual person, and you felt an unwelcome sense of worry curl along the edges of your mind as the clock counted away the seconds of him not being there. You remembered feeling the same way when you waited for your mom to pick you up from your dads, watching the clock hand sweep past the numbers, increasingly taunting. Of course, you hadn’t realised that she was at the time caught in between a lorry with a drunk driver and a very steep incline. You wondered if you were being similarly clueless now. 

When the door clicked open at quarter to 9, you had to restrain yourself from exhaling in relief. Hoseok came in looking slightly disheveled, his collar undone and his hair mussed as if he had ran his hands through it over and over again. He gave you a quick once over to see if you were alright, shot you a small, forced smile and then went straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

That was odd. He never closed the door to his bedroom. He had always left it open in case you needed anything, despite your refusal to acknowledge him. First, his late arrival and now yet another uncommon action? You felt curiosity bubble within you. That was it. Curiosity. It’s not that you were at all worried about him, you were just being nosy. Of course. 

You tiptoed towards the door, tracing a finger around the door frame lightly. What if he didn’t even come out again for dinner? You doubted he had dined out without you, he had been eating his meals sitting across from you while you refused to touch yours since the day he stole you. You really should check on him, if only for the fact that if he dies then you’re trapped here with a high chance of starvation.

Before you could convince yourself not to, you opened the door and stepped inside. The only light-source came from the moonlight filtering through the window, casting Hoseok’s form lying on the bed in a deep blue. His eyes, which you assumed had been closed previously, shot open to observe you as he propped himself up on the backs of his forearms.

“Y/n.” He rasped, and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine. “D-do you need anything?” His tone was both excited and confused, probably because you had literally never directly interacted with him before. 

You didn’t speak, and for the first time your silence was due to speechlessness, rather than a conscious desire.

“I-I, uh,” You stuttered, and Hoseok sat up ramrod straight, hearing your voice for the first time. “You… were late home.”

Hoseok felt like he couldn’t breathe. Your voice was so soft and pretty, fuck, and you were actually looking at him, you were actually talking to him, holy shit- and you called the apartment home. You said he was late ‘home’. Hoseok somehow managed to keep his shit together. 

“I was?”

“Yes.” You confirmed with a small nod of your head. Fuck, you were so cute. “You normally come back at half five. It’s almost nine now.”

“I’m sorry. I was working late.” He was staying at the office because he felt guilty for not taking proper care of you and wanted to avoid seeing the proof of your unhappiness, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“It’s ok.”

You remained standing at the foot of the bed, locked in his gaze. The bed looked so comfortable, moulding to support his body, and his warm body was exactly the comforting presence you were searching for all those years ago and you found yourself asking,

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?” 

It was a quiet, timid suggestion but Hoseok reacted to it like a bombshell. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets and his entire body tensed. You were about to rescind your offer when he reached out a tugged a corner of the blanket down, welcoming you into the warmth. 

You awkwardly sat on the edge of the mattress, nudging off your house slippers with your toes before slipping under the covers. The relief was instantaneous, shrouded in comforting and familiar warmth, and you couldn’t stop yourself from plastering yourself against his side, arm reaching out tentatively to rest on his chest. You felt his muscles jump under your touch, before his arm slid under you and tucked around your shoulders, drawing you into him closer. You closed your eyes, letting out a quiet little sigh, and you let yourself say the words you wish you could’ve said all those years ago when your mother never returned.

“I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.”