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in-need-of-gally-content · 9 months

Text

|Chapter•Nine|

•|Masterlist|•

(M/n) found himself trying to sleep for the remaining hours he had left of rest, but he soon realized it was useless, he can't fall asleep again because his mind is awake, alert, and on edge.

He sat on the mattress and reached his hand to the bookshelf, taking out his journal and a pen from the box, reaching up the top to turn his lamp on, opening a random empty page and (writing/drawing) about his dream, or what he could remember of it, which wasn't much.

Closing the journal, he stared at the WCKD label on the hardcover, and he couldn't hold back from doodling all around it, drawing devil horns and fire around it.

After a little while of mocking the Creators, (M/n) was getting bored, sleep was definitely not coming back to him until later in the evening, so he found some rope made of hay, and the origami he had done. Poking small holes in them with a needle and using the stray strands of the rope to secure the paper on the rope, he thought some simple decorations for the walls didn't sound too bad. He kept hanging the origami on the rope, leaving roughly 3 centimeters of distance between each one, and he soon ran out of rope, so he placed it on top of his bookshelf to hang it later.

(M/n) realized there was no point in staying in his room any longer, the sky was turning clearer but there was no sight of sunlight just yet, so everyone was still asleep. He stood up and grabbed his bag with the few snacks he packed the previous day and walked out.

He quickly yet silently made his way to the kitchen to grab his bottle and put it inside the bag, before jogging to the closed Maze Doors, placing his bag on the ground to make his way to the Blood House, he decided he was gonna be useful before he left for the day.

Greeting every animal that woke up, (M/n) filled their water and food bowls, greeted Bark with pets and kisses, staying outside of the barn to play with him for a little while. Until his eyes noticed two figures approaching him, Minho was heading his way with one of the guys he saw on his first day, the long-haired blond one was... Dan, right?

"Alright, boy, I gotta go," he leaned down and kissed Bark's head, walking out of the barn as the Maze Doors did their mechanical growl-like sound as they opened.

Bark watched him from his spot, his tail moving slowly as the three of them ran into the Maze, observing (M/n) as he disappeared.

/////

Running the Maze was quiet at first, until Minho started making conversation with both of them, and of course, (M/n) ended up mentioning Gally, catching Dan's attention, seeing the playful smirk growing on his face as he looked at him over his shoulder.

"Gally, eh? Didn't picture him as your type, greenie," (M/n) felt his face warm up but he decided to blame it on all the running he had been doing, laughing and shrugging.

"We're not like that-" he couldn't finish his phrase because Minho snorted.

"Yeah, they're just friends, Dan," (M/n) scoffed playfully at the obvious sarcastic tone in Minho's voice.

"We are!" He exclaimed with a wide smile, laughing a little between words.

But Dan wasn't convinced, "Not with the way he looks at you, no," both Dan and Minho kept running ahead of him, chuckling at each other as if they got their hands on the world's biggest secret, and (M/n) was... Confused, to say the least.

Dan's words made his heart beat faster and his tummy tingle, but he knew better than to believe anything that wasn't said by Gally himself. They're just playing, yeah... That's all they're doing.

And now, it was time for a chance of pace, "So..." He started as he approached them, keeping a steady jogging pace, "How long have you been a Runner, Dan?" The blond glanced at him and tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

"Almost two years, but I'm not exactly a Runner, I'm a Map Maker, although we do run the Maze as well," (M/n) frowned and nodded at his explanation. There were some jobs that had some sort of 'ramifications' for putting it in a fancy word.

"Kind of like the Builders and the Brick-nicks, I get it," he added to his explanation, humming as he glanced up the huge walls momentarily. They were approaching new territory, or so it seemed, because Minho looked at Dan, who reached for his bag and pulled out a journal and a pencil, mapping the turns they did, along with the unexplored pathways.

He wasn't expecting to be running along unknown territory, but he trusted Minho, if anyone knew anything about the Maze, it was him.

//////

The sound of the Maze Doors opening woke Gally up, he sat on his bed and rubbed his eyes before yawning. There wasn't much noise coming from the Glade besides a couple of guys awake and walking around, usually Frypan and some other cook getting up to start with breakfast. And Gally wasn't the type to laze around for long, so he got up from his bed, picked up his sketchbook, and made quick way to the bathroom in the Homestead.

He greeted Fry on his way past the kitchen and subconsciously started making his way to (M/n)'s tree, he only realized where he was going when he spotted Bark walking in the same direction as he, both of them stopping and making eye contact briefly.

"Hey, boy," Bark wagged his tail at him and continued on his path, Gally right behind him. He watched how Bark laid next to a tree, under its shade, and Gally briefly remembered that Bark had been staying at the treehouse all the while (M/n) was gone, the poor labrador was already there when he and (M/n) had come to chill out for a little bit.

He reached for his sketchbook when an idea sparked in his mind. Flipping through the pages, he found the finished blueprint for the treehouse, stapled to the page with the original sketch. He moved the paper away and gripped his pencil, doing a rough drawing of a dog house on the free space under (M/n)'s room, making it a close space to protect Bark from the cold wind and the rain, a foundation so he wouldn't sleep on the mud, sketching a small roof under the window, where his food and water bowls would be.

Gally is focused on getting every detail done as precisely as possible, figuring out (M/n) wouldn't really mind Bark's company, they really seemed to get along, a relationship of unconditional and mutual love.

But he's so entranced in what he's doing that he doesn't realize a few hours going by, skipping breakfast and lunch, only snapping back to reality when he hears the alarm of the Box coming up, and he remembered (M/n) telling him a thing about how there might be something for him with the supplies.

Gally secured his sketchbook back on his utility belt and jogged his way to the Box, reaching it right when the mechanical gates were opening up. He ignored everyone that asked him where he was, and silently jumped in the Box.

Looking around briefly, he spotted a rather small white cardboard box that had (M/n)'s name written on it, and he decided to leave it for last before handing crates of various sizes to the rest of the Builders. And when everyone was busy getting everything to their respective place, he grabbed the cardboard box and climbed out.

"Hey, uh..." Everyone around looked at Gally as he spoke, watching him fidget with something in his hands, "I'll be right back, start without me."

Doug nodded and called for everyone else to keep working on getting their supplies where they belong, and Gally turned around, heading to the treehouse.

Bark spotted him from afar, lifting his head off the ground and his tail thumping softly on the grass, Gally smiled at him briefly before going up the ladder and opening the door.

The bookshelf they built together sat next to the mattress, and the double curtains (M/n) made were held up by a nail on either top corner of it, some thinner rope tied to each one. The curtains were open to showcase the books on the horizontal crates on top of each other, his clothes and other things were kept in the vertical ones on either side. It was simple and looked nice. And...

They made it together.

Gally walked inside and place the box on top of the bookshelf, basically working as a drawer and bedside table by now, and he noticed the journal laying next to the lamp. A chuckle escaped him at the sight of the silly doodles around the WCKD label on the hardcover, some words written under it but crossed out.

And then he saw all the origami (M/n) did tied to a rope, it looked like it was gonna be some simple decoration, and he wondered where he was gonna hang them. He looked around for a moment, the little bit of light coming through the slightly open curtain made the place look cozy and homey.

Gally found himself wanting to stay inside for the remaining hours of the day, but he had stuff to do, so letting out a sigh, he turned around and left the treehouse.

//////

While he was busy placing the supplies in their respective spots, he overheard two other Builders snickering nearby. They had their back turned to him so neither of them had seen him.

"Well, but... Even if she is hot, she would be so much hotter if she stopped being... Like that, you know? It feels like I'm attracted to a guy, I hate it," Gally's jaw clenched, suddenly remembering (M/n)'s comment about how he would never fit in the Glade, and how everyone viewed him like... A girl.

He stood straight and stood behind them, towering over them, being a head taller than both.

"If I hear you talking about (M/n) like that again," both of them flinched at the rough tone in Gally's voice, looking up at him, trembling under his glare, "You'll be working under the sun with no breaks," they gave frantic nods at him, staring at the deep frown on his brow, "And you'll be working extra today, now back to work."

Their complaining whines got stuck in their throat when Gally turned around and went back to work.

Unfortunately for the rest of the Builders, they also had to face a pissed off Gally, who was tense and on edge as he supervised their work, especially when they were put to work on something Alby requested needed to be done. Some of them were definitely glaring at the culprits, who worked more as Brick-nicks rather than Builders, but were also part of this whole thing.

No one complained and silently followed Gally's instructions, not wanting to anger him more. However, they felt relieved when he walked away after he spotted Winston, heading to the Homestead with containers filled with meat.

"Winston," he called him as he walked next to him, the Keeper of the Slicers hummed in response, "Could you take Bark's water and food bowl to the greenie's tree house? Thank you!" And he was gone before he could get a response.

"...Sure."

Gally ran over to Mikah and Xan, who were drinking some water and wiping the sweat off their faces, panicking when they realized their Keeper walking closer to them.

"We'll get back to work-," Gally stopped them from doing so, holding them by their shoulders and making them turn around, a little frightened about what could happen to them.

"I need your guys' help with something," he announced calmly, instead of snapping at them for slacking. They briefly glanced at each other, "Come with me."

Gally started heading toward the warehouse where planks, sticks, rope, and such were kept safely, dragging Kurt with them on his way.

He was very brief and concise when he told them what to do. Mikah and Xan were in charge of carrying planks, sticks, and ivy back to the treehouse, while Kurt ran to the Homestead to get the builders' toolbox.

When they were done, he lead the way, telling them where to put everything and how they could stay if they wanted, but they didn't need to help him.

They were skeptical, Gally was mad no less than twenty minutes ago, but he seemed calmer now, and that was nice, but neither knew how long it would last. Even so, Mikah smiled and went to Gally's side, saying something about wanting to help him.

In the end, they all stayed with Gally, listening about the dog house he was planning to do for Bark, who had stood up to greet all of them briefly, pressing himself up against Gally, who scratched his ears like (M/n) did.

While they were discussing the foundation of the house, Winston came by to drop the bowls with food and water for Bark, who went and ate something, taking some gulps of water before sitting by a tree, staring at them as they worked. For now, they were only gonna get the basics done, the size of the floor and the four columns under (M/n)'s room.

A while later, Gally let everyone else go back to the Homestead or wherever they wanted to go while he tied sticks together with ivy, he didn't wanna leave Bark sleeping in the cold, so he was improvising a quick wall that should work as a provisional thing.

But now, (M/n) should be coming back from the Maze.

//////

With nothing to do as he waited, Gally's mind wandered to the single thought of how (M/n)'s arrival at the Glade was two weeks ago. Time does fly when you're having fun, it almost felt like only three days had gone past...

"Gally?"

He blinked and noticed (M/n) standing in front of him. He looked tired and that made Gally frown, although he understood that the greenie would be tired from running for eight hours straight, that didn't make him feel less worried about him.

In complete silence, he handed him another candy, watching how he unwrapped it and ate it, releasing a quiet and short hum as he turned to make his way to the Homestead. Gally followed him closely, keeping an eye on him and seeing how (M/n)'s eyes were closing on their own as he walked.

He watched (M/n) as he sat down by the entrance to the Homestead, and he sat right next to him, "Long day?" He finally managed to say.

(M/n) looked up at him, and showed him a tiny smile, nodding sluggishly in response, "Yep," he replied quietly, barely audible.

Gally offered him some more snacks, but (M/n) shook his head and silently drank some water from the bottle he brought, placing it down between his legs, staring far into the Glade. Everything was quiet, or well, they were the quiet ones, and Gally's mind wandered, realizing how the annoyance he felt earlier was gone, he wasn't mad or feeling on edge anymore, all of that was gone by simply being in (M/n)'s presence, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

It meant he had someone who he could spend time with to relax and be himself without his tough façade, but it also meant (M/n) was his weakness, that he had a soft spot for the greenie and other shanks or slintheads -like Peter or Billy- would soon realize that and he didn't want to involve him in anything that could hurt him-

The soft bump he felt on his shoulder snapped him back, feeling an increasing weight on him. Did he...?

Slowly moving his head to his side, he realized that his thoughts were true, and (M/n) fell asleep on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the feeling of the goosebumps covering his skin and the way his heart started beating faster, and louder -or it felt like it did, pounding like that in his ears-.

Gally really didn't want to move, but he was only able to stay still for so long, since Fry had started calling dinner. He sighed and shook (M/n) gently, calling his name quietly, managing to wake him up rather quickly, as it seemed he wasn't asleep just yet.

"Hm? What... What happened?" He asked sleepily as he rubbed his eyes, yawning and shaking his head a bit, it reminded Gally of a puppy.

He buried the thought in the back of his mind, and stood up, helping (M/n) do so as well, "Dinner is ready, come on."

//////

With dinner going by quickly, (M/n) finished eating and stood up to head to his room, his eyelids closing on their own but managing not to trip on his way there.

He noticed something being built under his house, but he didn't think much of it, he figured Gally had a good reason for it and went up the ladder, putting some force to raise it off the ground before going into his room. There wasn't much he was able to see, but his eyes had been getting used to the dark outside so his sight focused rather quickly.

(M/n) put on an extra effort to change his sweaty clothes to clean ones, leaving the dirty ones on the remaining space atop his bookshelf-drawer-bedside table, and simply... Knelt on his mattress before falling face-first into his pillow, needing to restore energy for the next day, figuring he would be gone for longer again.

That night, his mind was plagued with dreams, but only one stood out, probably because of the feeling of calmness and ease he felt. He was sitting on a rooftop, staring at what seemed to be a city, pretty advanced in his opinion, seeing as it looked nothing like the Glade. The sight and the place were rather eye-catching, mesmerizing in a way, but he realized he would rather pick the green scenery of the Glade over all the lights and tall buildings surrounding him, unable to see more than a few stars lathering the night sky.

Putting all those observations aside, he noticed something else. He could hear himself humming a song, quietly followed by his singing voice, his hand holding someone else's, someone who was humming alongside him.

He tried to look toward the person he was sitting with, to know the person holding onto his hand and gently squeezing it, but his sight was locked straight ahead of him.

"I just wanna be with you, (M/n)..."

There goes the same phrase he heard on his first day as a greenie, the same voice just a little bit clearer, and he realized.

It sounded... Familiar.

//////

This time, when (M/n) was running the Maze, everything was quiet, but he did not mind that Alby and Aiden weren't talking to him, or talking at all, the quiet was nice because he needed time to think, still making sure he didn't stay behind and both of them remained on his field of vision, jogging ahead of him with a few feet of distance.

Minho told him before they left that today they had to explore a new area that opened up in the Maze, they couldn't keep putting it back just because he was on his Runner trial, so this could go really good or really bad. He wasn't worried in the slightest, he had been able to keep up with Minho for two days, and he figured he could...

"Okay, we're here," Alby spoke as they slowed down to a walk, and soon his eyes caught sight of a weird section of the Maze, "Start mapping the Blades, Aidan," the Keeper of the Map Makers nodded, and did the same Dan had done the previous day, he started marking their path, "Greenie," he looked at Alby with wide eyes, caught off guard for a moment, "You're gonna be taking some of the ivies on the walls and would trail our path, so we don't get lost."

He nodded and reached his arms to tear some of the ivy hanging on the walls, putting them on the ground and holding them down with any heavy rock he found.

Everything was alright, but the longer they walked and stayed there, an uneasiness started settling in his chest, he almost felt as if someone- something was watching their every move. (M/n) felt like a prey out in the open, waiting for a predator to jump him.

And he swore he heard something akin to a metal growl in the distance, snapping his attention in that direction, halting his movements. He squinted and saw the sun reflecting onto something, and he wondered what it could be-

"Greenie, don't stay behind," he apologized quietly and obeyed Alby, heading his way while continuing on his task, and yet, he was unable to shake the feeling of anything happening during their time in the Maze.

//////

Gally was pissed.

More Gladers had been making unnecessary comments about (M/n), and there wasn't much he could do when they were part of the Sloppers and the Baggers, he had no authority regarding them, and that only left him angrier, closing his fists tightly as he held back from punching them until they understood they were doing something wrong. But they were slintheads before and they'll continue to be, beating them up wasn't gonna change their behavior.

So now, in order to focus on something else, he was working away to finish Bark's house, taking a few breaks every now and again, especially when Bark came up to him asking for attention and wanting to play around.

He made sure to refill his bowls, realizing the previous bag of dog food had run out but they'd gotten a new one yesterday coming in the Box. Gally noticed that Bark had been feeling lonely and looking down ever since (M/n) had been running the Maze, and he couldn't blame him, he felt the exact same way.

Sitting on the grass with Bark laying on his lap, he realized, has he ever felt lonely in the Glade just because one of his friends wasn't around? The answer was no, he hadn't, and he blamed that on the feeling that he never felt like he had a true friend, or someone who he could consider as such.

He stood when Bark walked away to drink more water, and he tried to continue building, but with his head somewhere else besides the structure, he ended up cutting open the skin of his fingers. He considered just keep working, but it was bleeding quite a bit, as most hand injuries do, so he huffed and made his way to the Homestead.

Walking straight to the med room, he stepped in and immediately made eye contact with Newt, who was rubbing his left leg and groaning in pain.

"It's acting up, isn't it?" He asked quietly as he started rummaging the drawers in his search for bandaids. Gally glanced at Newt, seeing him nod with a frown in response before he went back to look around.

Newt maintained his look on the taller blond, "How you feelin'?" It took Gally a few seconds to answer, simply asking something else in return.

"'Bout what?"

He sighed and simply said it, "About (M/n)," Newt didn't miss the way Gally stopped moving for a short while before taking a deep breath and shrugging, trying to act nonchalantly.

"G-good, I think... He'll be going in the Maze tomorrow as well," Newt silently nodded, taking notice of the small frown on Gally's face.

"But...?" Sighing again, Gally grabbed the bandaid and sat on the couch behind him, fiddling with it.

"I feel... Alone, and like I'm a shucking idiot for liking him because he's into girls but a lot of the guys see him as one... and I'm worried about him being in the Maze with the Runners for so long," certainly, Newt wasn't expecting Gally to actually tell him what was bothering him, but he understood Gally's worry.

Not only was (M/n) -biologically- the only girl in the Maze, but he was also their dear greenie, one that hadn't caused trouble on purpose and had been a great help to everyone in the Glade, whether they deserved his kindness or not, and he was... The guy Gally liked.

Newt wasn't gonna let the thought of Gally liking someone else get to him, he was the one that wanted to continue being friends with him after all, and he had offered his ears and mind to help him if he ever needed to talk about his feelings.

They continued talking for another while, until Gally decided he was gonna get back to work, unable to stop himself from apologizing to Newt for simply rambling and bothering him with his dumb issues, to which Newt said it was nothing and didn't have to feel sorry, that he wanted to help him.

"Don't worry, mate, we're all humans after all," he said as a way to reassure him, and it worked.

But Newt didn't like the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw Gally smiling at him as he left the med room.

With gritted teeth, Newt messed up his hair in frustration, "What the shuck is wrong with me?"

//////

With the sun setting in the horizon behind the Walls, Gally wiped the sweat off his forehead, done building Bark's house, and placing his bowls on the intended spot he made, right under (M/n)'s window, a small roof sticking off the side to work as cover. He liked it. Now he had to run to the barn to get Bark's bed.

And... Done!

He looked at Bark and petted his head, "That's your new home, boy," gently tapping his back, he watched how Bark slowly approached the house, sniffing it before recognizing the smell of his bed and he walked in, laying on it, his snout poking out the door.

Gally smiled and glanced at his watch, the Runners should be coming back soon...

Making his way to the Homestead he grabbed a few snacks that continued to lay around in the cabinets, on rare occasions anyone that wasn't a Runner ate them, since they were mostly kept for them to eat while in the Maze. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and began making his way to the doors, waiting for (M/n) again.

This time around, they came back right on time before the Doors closed, and Gally couldn't help but realize that the greenie looked exhausted, he was almost mad at Alby for making him run for such a long time, but that was the point of the Runner trials, to prove they could take the mental and physical exhaustion.

(M/n) turned to look at him the moment he entered the Glade, completely ignoring the food he had on his hands and leaning against his body, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes, Gally's proximity and body heat was pretty much all he needed to fall asleep standing, he felt safe after being on edge the whole time he was at the Blades, feeling observed even on their way back, and now he was much better.

Gally didn't push (M/n) away, he simply wrapped his arm around his middle and took him to the Homestead, heading to the dining area while they waited for dinner to be ready.

Fry had noticed the greenie's state, so he got his plate ready first along with Gally's, and told Carl to take the tray to them.

With (M/n) barely being able to keep his eyes open, he ended up getting Gally to feed him, not that the Keeper really minded, everyone knew better than to make fun of him in his presence, and well, the sight was rather cute, he couldn't let this opportunity pass.

Even as cute as (M/n) looked falling asleep every few seconds, Gally wasn't gonna let him walk back to his treehouse in the dark, on his own, otherwise he was probably gonna trip and end up sleeping on the dirt, so he took (M/n) there, catching his attention to make sure he would raise the ladder before heading inside, telling him to close the door.

A sleepy (M/n) smiled at him from his elevated spot, leaning on the doorframe, "Thank you, Gally..." His voice was rumbly and deep, clearly tired after the day he had, and Gally felt a shiver run down his spine, one that he couldn't nor wanted to blame on the cold breeze around him, whistling in the leaves of the trees.

He smiled back, his face warming up as he nodded.

"Good night, (M/n)."

//////

His hands were holding someone's face in the dark, the breaths mixing as their foreheads pressed together.

"We're gonna be together soon, okay? I promise," whoever he was holding nodded in response, feeling their hands moving his hair back.

"I trust you, (M/n)."

The scenery changed after those words, and now he was in the same security room from before, screens in front of him showing him images of the Glade.

His eyes stared at everyone running toward the Box, opening it, and helping the new guy get out, his ears picking up on the conversation they were having.

"Where am I?! Why can't I remember anything?!" He frowned at the words he heard, and he turned to stare at a blonde woman.

"We... We had a deal! We weren't supposed to erase his memories!" The woman never looked at him, and he got angry, launching himself at her, but being stopped by two men holding him back, "We had a deal, Ava!"

With a jolt, he woke up.

(M/n) sat up on his bed and held his pounding head in his hands. What were these dreams he kept having? Were they just nonsense?

Or were those his memories before being sent to the Glade?

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gritsandbrits · 7 months

Text

Something i wrote in the heat of the night: A ttte x self insert drabble

This morning I'm getting ready for the day. The sketchbook I bought it out of walmart some time ago sits on my shelf begging for attention.

Growing up I loved to draw,but too many times I was made fun of for drawing. I didn't even make a B above art class I took in high school. My poses would be awkward and clumsy like a disney movie protagonist. My stuff barely got noted on all my socials. What was the point of making anything if it just gets overshadowed by better artists? Writing was a no go either. Who'd want to read any of my crappy fanfics? So I stopped posting.

I stop brushing, quickly grab my bag and leave the room. Hmph who cares if I don't draw anymore. At least I wouldn't get mad fun of or be forced to look at my own work.

As I walk by the train yards I hear a loud whistle, and see one of the Scottish Twins pull up beside me (separated by fences but fairly close to maintain a healthy volume).

"Oi! I want to speak to you for a second!" Donald shouts as he wheezed hot smoke in anger.

"Did I do something wrong?" I ask. This was the first time Donald was mad at me.

"What day is this?" Donald said.

"It's the twenty-eighth," I say.

"And how long is that from the ninth?"

I pause for a bit to calculate the time frame. That would've been nineteen days ago. What was so important about the ninth that had gotten Donald so upset?

"What number is September?"

"The ninth month. Why? Did I forget something?"

Donals coughs in irritation and waits for me to draw my own conclusions. After a minute I gasped as I realized what he meant.

"Crap! I forgot all about Nine-Nine!" I say. Nine-Nine was Donald Day. It was something the fandom did for all the engines numbered one through twelve: make content based on the month and matching date. I had mentioned on my blog that I would give him something. Mostly to make up for the other times I missed celebrating the other engines.

"Uhmm..."

"THREE WEEKS! And you haven't stopped by once, not even to say thank you!"

I flinched. "I'm sorry I busy with work and my appointments-"

"Ya say you REMEMBER to celebrate me Day, ya post bout how you will make somethin' for me yet ya still forgotten!" The engine huffed crossly.

"Well I was busy! I just forgot about it, I'm sorry."

"This aint the first time either lass! Ya say you'll do something for Duck on his day, then didn' show up. You made nothing for Toby and Percy on their days - poor Percy's still peeved about it by the way," he added.

"But I did something for James," I reply quickly. "I let him speak on my blog!"

"Only for what a couple of hours then went right back to posting the regular as if nothing's happen. You didn't give him anything physical much less meaningful!" Donald exclaimed.

I try to say something but he cuts in. "You do this every time. You say you'll celebrate whatever engines day then forget all about it! It's almost like you do it on purpose!"

His words struck bolts into my hearts. The pain finally sunk in, and I lower my head in shame. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Lassie we don't expect grand gestures or even a trophy. What we want is your acknowledgement but it seems you don't do that."

It takes me a minute to find my voice. I try to look inward for answers but my soul produces a static noise.

"I don't know I guess I don't.. Draw a lot. My art isn't good," I say. Donald sniffed at my pathetic tone of voice

"Really? You have artists who use - what that program? MS Paint. Yeah MS Paint! Or whatever they can get on hand and create a lot of things. You mean you don't make anything because you're afraid? Not even a doodle?"

"You are so wrapped up in ya own self, ya don't let anyone else in. Why is that?"

Donald stares at me for long minutes. The weight of his words settles in, as if he expects me to be crushed by the weight of my actions. I don't blame him. I promised him and the others and broke those promises. There was no defending that.

Finally after long damning minutes Donald wheezed a sigh of satisfied relent.

"Look Grits everyone is busy look at me! But that's not an excuse to ignore everyone! It's not even a good excuse to deny your own self."

I stood quietly taking it all in. He was right. I've been holding off my own skills and myself and using work to justify pushing everyone away. No excuses.

"All we are asking is for you to draw just ONE thing. Anything it don't have to be Picasso or some renaissance paintin'. Just one scribble of us would be fine," pleaded Donald.

"I'll try," I uttered meekly. Donald smiled.

"You're a great kid, but there's more to life than being afraid all the time.. If you don't take any risks or let anyone else in, then it wouldn't BE a life would it?"

I shook my head in agreement. "No it really wouldn't. Thank you Don. I needed that drag."

Donald starts to back up. "Remember grits just one doodle! I'm keeping track on it you hear?!"

"I will!" I shout back as I wave him goodbye.

After seeing go I think about his speech then decide to go back to my house. Perhaps I need that sketchbook more than it needs me.

#ttte #ttte donald #gb asks #fanfiction #drabble #art #self insert #si x canon #platonic self ship

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autobot2001 · 5 months

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His Strange Feelings

Author: Autobot2001 Fandom: Halloween movies Rating: E Warnings: OOC Michael Pairing: Kaylen & Michael Myers Description: Kaylen didn't think she'd meet Michael Myers, and he didn't think he'd feel anything but anger. Instead, he's thinking this teen could be a friend. Note: I know this is considered OOC, but I think this is a possible arc: Michael finding a friend rather than a target. An OC will be said friend in the planned story. There will be a reason why. I figured I'd post this as kind of a sample before writing the story, and it turns out I just get comments bashing the idea. So yes, let me know if this is stupid.

This was written for a character roulette in a whump server. The character; Kaylen -Was a victim of a magic accident -Has a very active imagination -Is always scribbling, drawing, writing something down, even has ink stains and doodles and notes to themselves all over their hands and arms, usually —ls great at reading others, knowing how people are feeling and why, etc. It's borderline impossible to hide a secret from them or mislead them since they seem to almost supernaturally just know the actual truth about how someone is feeling or what they're thinking, etc.

"Finally, that bastard is dead," a doctor says as two coroners bring a body to a hole that's two feet deep in the middle of the woods, "shame Loomis isn't here to see this." The two coroners don't question the decision to bury the body in the middle of the woods like criminals would. Nor do they question the lack of examining the body for a cause of death since this person was in the psychiatric hospital. They don't even know who this person is. They were only told to help transfer a dead body. The body showed evidence of the person being dead for a few hours, but that's all the two could tell. "Good riddance!" The doctor tells as the hole is filled in.

Kaylen walks down the street towards her house after another day of bullying. Between the five-inch long and three-inch wide burn on her left forearm, thanks to her friends, she thought magic wasn't real. On her other arm are tattoos she drew herself with pen. "She has to be related to that Myers guy," she hears a kid say as she walks by a house. "How?" Another kid asks, "his only sister is dead along with his parents," another kid points out. The story of Michael Myers is known around Haddonfield. Kaylen can't believe people think she's related to him just because of how she acts. She questions how her behavior scream related to Myers when he didn't do anything she does, or was a test subject for "fake" magic.

Kaylen walks through the woods. An old cabin is her hiding place. She hasn't been able to get to her hiding place for a week. She notices ground that has been disturbed recently. She swears the dirt looks like a grave was dug. "I know I have an overactive imagination, but surely I'm not imagining this." She continues on towards the cabin.

The cabin is as Kaylen left it a week ago; mostly clean. She now realizes the cabin is due for a dusting. First, she gets a snack from the cabinet. She's used to how there's no electricity or running water. The camper lamps she has provide enough light, and she can deal with no water. It's dark by the time Kaylen finished her snack and dusting. She still has homework to do. "So much for doing some art before going home," she sighs, knowing she'll need to head home. Happy her parents don't expect her home before dark, but by nine. Sitting at the table, she looks out the window and sees someone there. Should I be worried? Kaylen thinks. Or assume it's my overactive imagination after hearing what those kids said? She shrugs it off. Unaware she is being watched.

Kaylen does manage to finish her homework and has time to do some art. Until she hears the sound of footsteps on the porch. She doesn't have any weapons in the cabin. I don't think I was imagining someone outside by the window. Kaylen realizes. If they have a weapon, I'm screwed. She sits at the table, watching the door open. A tall figure wearing a white T-shirt, black sweatpants, and socks walks in. Kaylen doesn't think this man is homeless, even with his long brown hair. His blue eyes pierced through her. "Um…hi," Kaylen says. The man says nothing, "um… if this is your home, I'm sorry for trespassing," the man tilts his head, "oh, not your cabin?" The two stare at each other for a few minutes before the man sits across from Kaylen. Kaylen gets a strange feeling about this person. "Who are you?" She asks. The man grabs Kaylen's sketchbook and pencil. She can't believe what the man is writing, "y-you are Michael Myers?" Kaylen knows she should be terrified, but she's not. Buried alive. Michael writes. "I wasn't imagining the disturbed ground," Michael points to Kaylen's burnt arm, "oh, would you believe my friends wanted to prove magic isn't real and I was the test subject?" Kaylen sees Michael getting angry. Suspecting while he just met her, he wants to deal with her friends who hurt her, "uh…you better stay here. Otherwise, you'll just have cops on your ass," Kaylen suggests, hoping to protect he friends while not angering the killer across from her. Aware it's likely pointless, "I have to go. There's food in the cabinets and bottled water. Uh, my name is Kaylen." She collects her homework but leaves her art stuff on the table. She tells Michael she'll be back tomorrow afternoon. The young female fails to think the killer will be looking for a weapon. Michael does find a hammer. Believing it'll do until he finds a knife.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Kaylen's mom points out. "Oh, you know me and my overactive imagination." Kaylen goes to her room. Glad her mom isn't lecturing her about being home late.

Kaylen sits on her bed, looking at her phone. October thirtieth. Anxiety builds up as she worries about Michael killing people in town and if he'll try to figure out who her friends are. She tries to go to sleep.

Kaylen feels like she dreamt about meeting Michael and the anger she saw when she told him what happened to her arm. Why did I dream about Michael not killing me and being pissed about how I got my arm burned? Kaylen thinks. I know he would rather kill me than befriend me unless… Kaylen gets ready for school while questioning her dream.

As the female walks down the street towards the school, she notices a strange figure staring at her from behind a tree. Even while this man is dressed differently than the man in her dream and this person is wearing a mask, Kaylen suspects she's looking at Michael Myers. Fuck, this is creepy if that's him and after the dream I had. Kaylen worries. Her friends calling he name snaps Kaylen out of her thoughts. "Are you daydreaming again?" One of her friends asks. "I-I…" "Are you ok?" Another friend asks. Kaylen doesn't see the figure, but she's still worried. "I'm fine," she lies. The four head towards the school. Michael watches closely at who three of his targets are. Eagerly waiting for tonight. For now, he heads back to the cabin. Questioning a feeling he has. For some reason, he doesn't want to kill Kaylen but feels anger towards her friends for hurting her.

Kaylen struggles to focus on school, but the teacher doesn't notice. She tells her friends she'll see them at five to go trick or treating and hurries to the cabin.

Kaylen is surprised to see someone different sitting at the table in the cabin. It's the man she saw earlier with a blue mechanic outfit, black gloves, and a mask that covers his entire face. She can only see his eyes. The man shows Kaylen a piece of paper. It's me. Michael removes the mask, hoping to help Kaylen relax, but suspects she knows the story of what he did fifteen years ago. "Then I wasn't dreaming," he hears Kaylen say. Fear in her voice. I won't hurt you. "Y-you saw my friends and…" Michael isn't sure what's happening, but he doesn't like it. He's unsure if water will help, but he gets a bottle from the case of water. He has Kaylen sit at the table next to him. Kaylen looks into Michael's eyes, seeing worry, but also can see that he's looking to kill people. Not just the people who decided he was dead and buried him alive, but people in town. Michael was hoping Kaylen wouldn't run out of the cabin. To his surprise, he hates how she's now afraid of him. Michael feels a mix of emotions. The anger he's felt for years but also sadness and regret. Questioning why he's not seeing Kaylen as his first target.

"I'm beginning to think I shouldn't let you go to that cabin," Kaylen's mom says as Kaylen walks into the kitchen. "It's nothing, mom." Kaylen decides to take a shower. Hoping that'll relax her.

What Kaylen is seeing and hearing at eight at night, she's trying to tell herself that she's dreaming. Four people have been killed in their homes. By now everyone is ordered to go home. Kaylen can't relax even though her friends are staying over. The four friends watch a movie before going to bed.

Kaylen goes upstairs s few minutes before her friends to prepare her room for her three friends.

As she prepared the trundle bed, Kaylen hears a door creaking. She assumes it's her friends trying to scare her until her hand covers her mouth. Tasting blood terrifies her before she sees Michael. He puts a finger on the mask's lips before removing his hand from Kaylen's mouth. She looks into his eyes, seeing the sadness and no trace of anger. She's almost relaxed until she hears her friends laughing as they walk upstairs. She fears Michael is now angry while he's worried about getting caught, and Kaylen as she panics. He doesn't know what to do when she passes out. Hating, he can only put her in her bed and leave.

Michael returns once the light in Kaylen's room is off. Seeing the four teens sleeping, worried about Kaylen. He hopes his first attempt at friendship isn't ending in failure, but he is uncertain if he should wait for her at the cabin. He stays until the teen wakes up. Relieved she's calm. He watches her find and read his note before leaving. I don't know what it is, but I want to be your friend. Your friends are safe. I'll be at the cabin. You can tell me to leave, and I'll leave. Kaylen isn't sure what to think. She hides the note before her friends see it. Now she's glad there's school today. It'll be easy to go to the cabin since her friends have no interest in going to the old cabin. Kaylen isn't sure if she can deal with being friends with Michael.

The students talking about the events that happened last night doesn't help Kaylen make her decision. How many people will Michael kill? How long before Smith's Grove discovers he isn't dead and captures him? The killing and likely short-term friendship makes it hard for her to decide.

Michael waits in the cabin. He can't believe how afraid he is to hear Kaylen's decision. He realizes that along with his lack of social skills, the other challenge is how long before the police or Dr. Loomis tries to capture him and send him back to Smith's Grove. He's now torn between leaving or awaiting her decision. Would leaving be selfish or better for her?

Kaylen didn't think she'd see Michael without the mask while sitting at the table. "Are you ok?" She asks. I'm fine. Michael writes. Kaylen looks at Michael, who has yet to realize Kaylen can tell what he's thinking and feeling even while he has a blank expression. "I can tell you're worried about what I'll say and what could happen," Michael looks at her, questioning how she can tell. He nods, "I-I don't know. I shouldn't be your friend. Y-you're a killer, but….," Kaylen didn't think she'd start crying or that Michael would hug her. Michael waits a few minutes before ending the hug, and writing on paper. We'll figure it out. I hope this won't be a short friendship. I don't know what it is about you. Kaylen knows she won't be able to change the killer, and he'll stop killing. "I…I want to be your friend." Kaylen is certain that Michael is smiling for the first time in fifteen years.

#halloween franchise #michael myers #character roulette #OOC character #friendship #whump #angst

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cagesings · 2 years

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𝒑𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 + 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒆

general mental health related trigger warnings apply. feel free to include more or exclude those facts / test results that take too much time or don’t apply, you can check out this list for more personality-related quizzes to include!

QUICK FACTS.

diagnoses: technically she received a diagnosis when she arrived at foggs which included female hysteria, melancholia, general hysteria, paranoia potentially anorexia or some variant such as disordered eating ( technically the term anorexia wasn’t really a thing until later in the century, but i think they would give some name to this ) among others. in modern day she received an abundance of diagnoses such as anxiety, depression, ptsd, anorexia, bulimia, etc. i would not say she has all of these mental illnesses again this hospital treated her horribly & this is just one of the ways they did this.

triggers: n/a, but there are a few things that just make her freeze. such as, the sound of a lock clicking or the feeling of a coat strapped around her.

positive coping skills: spending time with birds, sewing, doodling, seeking physical affection

negative coping skills: denial, not sleeping ( not exactly controlled by her all the time, but there are times it is ), not eating, closing up, getting angry, isolating, running away, etc.

attachment style: disorganized/fearful-avoidant

love language: physical touch

myers briggs / mbti: intj - t

HISTORY EXPLORATION.

are their diagnoses formal ( via a doctor, therapist, etc. ) or informal ( self diagnosis, a hunch, unrealized, etc. ): technically, yes they were given by a doctor & who would be trusted with mental health in the 1800s. however, this time period was very screwed mental heath-wise so they’re not really to be trusted. johanna doesn’t trust them, either. in her modern verse, she does not consider herself to be mentally ill & actually will freak out if a loved one mentions seeing a therapist about all the anxiety she feels & her symptoms of ptsd. she does not want to end up like her mom, according to her. also she does not trust therapists or other mental health specialists.

have they ever been treated / medicated?: like i said before, technically. but treatment for mental illness was absolutely horrible so it only made it worse. i won’t go into it here because it’s quite literally torture. there were some very sketchy treatments given at the mental hospital in her modern au.

have they ever been hospitalized or treated on an inpatient basis?: yes, but it was 19th centaury healthcare so not great. she was put into the mental hospital against her will.

how old were they when they first started experiencing / realizing symptoms?: johanna’s anxiety has always been apart of her. it’s been made worse by all the things in her life. her body dysmorphia became prevalent by the time she was nine. she didn’t act on anorexia tendencies until she was twelve. it was only for a week before she was caught. post canon, she might develop this ed again depending on circumstances. for example, how often she is left alone, who she is living with, etc.

do they have a family history of mental illness?: well, looking at her parents . . . i guess? but their mental illnesses seem to be influenced by the things that happened in their lives. sweeney is, well, a murderer who doesn’t feel any guilt for his actions so there’s something wrong with him. lucy’s ‘madness’ spurted from her suicide attempt. i think both of them suffer from ptsd which can’t be carried throughout families so technically no.

how was mental health handled / discussed in the family?: absolutely not in the judge’s house. it it was, it was talked about in a very negative light because from what jo knows, her mom was suicidal which the judge is bitter about. in her modern verse, she knows a little bit more about mental illness because of the mandatory health classes. but because the judge already kind of corrupted her mind with horrible ideas about the mentally ill ( they commit crime, they wind up in prison, they are so deranged they have to be in mental hospitals - like her mom, etc. ), what she learns in class doesn’t influence her thinking very much.

what are their thoughts on mental health / their diagnosis? she is extremely bitter & refuses to believe she is mentally ill. johanna knows deep down that something isn’t right, but does not discuss it. she became very good at pretending & lying in front of the judge ��so she continues those habits.

in what ways has their diagnosis shaped their life or experiences?: she does not want to think about her ‘diagnosis’ at all. an extremely touchy subject no matter what universe she’s in.

SYMPTOMS: note that all of the below are, on their own, normative and typical aspects of human functioning. they become “symptoms” when they last longer than “normal” or when they pose a significant impact on someone’s life / functioning.

BOLD all that are present, ITALICIZE those that are resolved or in the history.

depression. anxiety. panic attacks. dissociation. derealization. depersonalization. suicidal ideation. self harm. homicidal ideation. psychosis. auditory hallucinations. visual hallucinations. delusions. mania. hypomania. racing thoughts. hyperactivity. attention difficulty. flashbacks. nightmares. hyperarousal. hypoarousal. hypersexuality. hyposexuality. psychopathy. risky behavior. catatonia. somatic / bodily concerns. mutism. phobia. hoarding. obsessions. compulsions. body dysmorphia. hair picking. skin picking. amnesia. illness anxiety / hypochondria. sensory loss. speech difficulty. comprehension difficulty. communication difficulty. tics. defiant behavior. irritable mood. vindictiveness. aggression. pyromania. kleptomania. paranoia. attention seeking. narcissism. avoidance. dependency. pica. rumination. food restriction. food binging. purging. soiling the bed. insomnia. fatigue. sexual dysfunction. delirium. developmental delays.

explanations / elaborations on any of the above symptoms:

panic attacks: i would say she suffers from more anxiety attacks because they are caused by something, but she can have panic attacks, as well.

suicide: the thought only really came to her when she was afraid the judge was going to force her into marriage as a way to escape. she told anthony about it in an extremely frantic moment, but due to the fact she believes suicide will land you in hell & her mother attempted/committed suicide ( she doesn’t know for sure which one ). the judge always warned her about becoming her mother. she does not like to talk about it & will probably only bring it up if you admitted you’ve had thoughts of suicide before or if she’s certain you won’t remember.

body dysmorphia: i need to write an official headcanon about this someday, but i would say a lot of her body dysmorphia stems from the fact she had way too much time on her hands. so she started noticing things she hates about herself. the parts of herself that johanna hates are:

stomach ( believes she is fat, although in reality she’s rather slim - i’ve forgotten the technical term for this )

shoulders ( they’re much too wide, according to her )

waist ( believes she cannot achieve the desired small waist of the century, most reports say 15 inches was the wanted waist size )

thighs ( why do they suddenly get so big when she sits down? )

ankles ( way too square to be considered dainty & feminine )

fatigue: comes from poor sleeping habits/lack of food. she was malnourished in the asylum, but if she develops anorexia, she is always tired from the lack of eating. she also suffers tremendously from a nightmare disorder which keeps her up at night ( along with general insomnia ) or wakes her up, interrupting her sleep to the point she can’t go back to sleep. johanna has a fear of going to sleep.

tagged by: no one. i stole it.

tagging: pull an a.nthony h.ope & steal it

#i am definetly going to have to add to this in the future #but for now #this is Really Sad #mental illness tw #anxiety tw #suicide tw #body dysmorphia tw #bdd tw #anorexia tw #bulimia tw #weight loss tw #medical tw #hospital tw #self harm tw #ask to tag tw #*❈ ‣ ❝ 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 ❞ — ( headcanon. )#long post tw #ed tw #eating disorder tw

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staysuki · 2 years

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📍 HAPPY DEATH DAY | l.felix

026—I'M SO SICK OF THE FAKES.

warnings: series warnings. p.s. tumblr will keep messing up the format so i won't even bother anymore. don't mind mistakes, i just want to get this out. hope this makes up for the long hold.

word count: 8k

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[charity drive day]

when your father moved you to a quaint little town, gossip was the least of your worries—or perhaps it’s exactly because there’s nothing else to do in this ramshackle town that the best source of entertainment is other people’s lives.

you knock on the door of a rundown home. windows boarded up as the hinges of the door barely did anything to hold it together. the weeds overgrown on the yard completely cover your view of the road—perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to hide a dead body here.

you bit your cheek in restlessness, waiting for the homeowner to come greet you from the other side. you adjusted your tweed dress, your well-kempt appearance easily contrasted that of where you’re currently standing in. your financial matters may have been doxxed but it’s not like your plain clothes were just going to magically appear out of nowhere, it wasn’t a cinderella situation, your luxury items wasn’t just going to fade away—and you sure as hell weren’t going to stoop down to peer pressure and buy modest clothing just to try and blend in. you didn’t care.

but some people had worse situations than you.

you know that.

and you further realized it when gaon opens the door, his usually lively persona looking more grim as the purple spiky hair turned to an ashen shade. the usual neon cheerfulness of gaon turns dull as his life turns gray.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” he seems surprised by your presence, but you don’t let on.

“can i come in?” you question with raised eyebrows.

he felt apprehensive at first, looking at your appearance and comparing it to his own house. nonetheless, he steps aside and welcomes you in.

torn leather couches and grimy tiles decorated the interior, scrunching your nose at the smell of must attacking your nose. there was barely any sign of life aside from the little doodles on the cracked concrete walls made by gaon’s younger siblings.

“can i help you?” he asks, scratching the back of his head in confusion while you made yourself feel at home, plopping yourself down the couch. you wince at the spring digging into your thighs but you don’t comment any further.

“sit,” you pat the space next to you, which he carefully follows, eyes narrowed in confused suspicion.

you rolled your eyes at him, “you don’t have to act like a deer, gaon, i just came here to check on you.”

his shoulders sagged in relief—from what, however, he didn’t know—he shot you a small smile, “thanks, y/n, that’s really nice.”

“so, where’s your siblings?” you look around, noticing the lack of small kids that gaon seems to be known for.

“ah, they’re staying at a neighbor’s place. chan actually organized for them to be taken care of by someone else for now,” he waves and you nod, it was a pretty smart move. of course chan would be the first to think of something like that.

“tell me more about them.”

his eyebrows shoot up, but he entertains your whims, “well there’s jintaek, he’s the oldest out of the three—nine years old. there’s jisun, she’s seven, and our youngest is jiselle, she’s four.”

you’re actually surprised at how young his siblings are, the most you guessed was ages that ranged in the early teens. you note how that’s probably why gaon is busy all the time, taking care of siblings that are barely old enough to decipher wrong and right.

“do they go to school?” you tilt your head in question, watching gaon shake his head.

“no.. we can’t really afford it. i just tutor them sometimes whenever i can.” he explains.

“that’s why i’m just some drifter in college, it’s not like i can afford to pursue a specific degree, not really that smart enough either,” he continues.

what else was there to ask? to be honest, you didn’t really want to open up the other topics posted in the twitter page—because if it were you in that situation, you wouldn’t want to talk about it either. especially not to people who’s barely a friend.

“you probably think differently of me now, don’t you?” gaon mutters, suddenly more interested at staring on the floor than you.

“yeah, i do.” you answer straightforwardly, which he accepts with a solemn nod.

you continue, “it’s impossible to think the same, isn’t it? why would i not see you in a different light after knowing just how much you care for your family to the point that you’d steal for them.”

he lets out a sad chuckle, “you’re just saying that.”

you shake your head with an eye roll, “no, gaon. do you think you’re the only one who’ve ever stolen anything? you literally know about my financial matters, do you think i’ve never stolen anything before?”

he looks at you curiously, which makes you giggle, “the worst part is, i wasn’t stealing because of some gallant cause like you did—there was just… this guy. he told me to do it and i was too strung up on him to say no.”

“wow, he sounds like he sucks ass,” he comments, which makes you laugh, probably a bit louder than you intended.

“he really does, actually.”

“so… you don’t think badly of me?” gaon asks slowly, hopefulness in his eyes.

you shake your head once again, “no. i don’t. i think badly of the situation that your life put you in, but not of you—you’re just playing the game. anyone who faults you for that is a stupid, privileged idiot.”

“yeah, maybe,” he shrugs. it was what he’s been worried about in the beginning—that people would think of him as a freak, a lowly sinner. he fears walking back to campus to find people splitting the halls just to avoid him.

“look, i can’t tell you to stop worrying or to move on from your worries. truth be told, you’re the only one who can stop yourself from psyching out. the best we can do is maintain in your proximity—so believe me when i tell you that you have us to rely on,” you gave him a small pat before wearing your purse.

“are you going to the charity drive?” gaon asked, because he sure as hell wasn’t.

“i’ve never missed a day of school,” you comment with a wink before walking out the door.

you have approximately seven hours before your play and you had just enough plans to fill that time hole.

starting by eliminating a scummy rat.

after nana sent you the files about the identity of the OG buzzkill, your blood just couldn’t help but boil under your skin. so as you arrived back on campus, ignoring the fleeting stares of other people as your heels clacked with every step, you made a beeline throughout the halls.

and with your penetrative gaze and infuriated look, you were dead set on walking straight towards your target.

thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find a specific set of light brown hair over the crowd. you watch him disappear through the corner and walk inside the men’s bathroom.

that won’t stop you.

before you could fully enter through the door, a familiar dark-haired guy stops you by the shoulder, “woah chanel, wrong restroom.” dowoon says, pointing towards the male sign.

you glare at him, something he didn’t expect you to do, so he let’s go of your shoulder and follows you inside.

“yo, my dude, why’s the cat so feisty in the morning?” he pesters as he follows you look at the stalls one by one.

soon enough, you got annoyed by his presence, you turn towards him and pushes him to the sink, “i’m not in the mood, yoon. so hit the toilets and stay out of my way,” you snarl at him.

suddenly, the last stall opens, revealing the guy you’ve been looking for. before he could fully step out, you march towards him and push him back inside. making him stumble on his footing and plop down on the closed toilet, “what the fuck!?” he exclaims, a confused glance towards you as you loom over him.

despite the pushback, dowoon comes behind you, an inquisitive stance fills his posture as he curiously watches with a nosey stare.

“kim jungsu, you fucking rat,” you spit out at him.

his eyes widened, not knowing how to react. would he play innocent or admit defeat?

before he could speak up, you cut him off. you aggressively prop your foot up the toilet, your heel dangerously hitting the toilet seat through the opening between his thighs, making him accidentally whimper in fear.

“okay! okay! let me explain!” he bargains, though you didn’t know what he could say to save his situation, you decided to hear him out still.

“look, i admit, it’s not the greatest look—”

you tilt your head in mocker, “what is? airing out people’s dirty laundry? making people’s lives your source of entertainment?”

“holy shit, are you buzzkill? oh, man,” dowoon commented behind you and you resisted the urge to elbow him.

“i’m sorry, okay?! it’s just that—” he fumbles, trying to get your foot of the seat but you dig your heels even further, a bit too close to his nether regions.

“just what? hm?”

“oh my fucking god, can you get her off of me?!” jungsu exclaims, his eyes pleading towards dowoon.

he obliges, pulling you away from the stall, but this time, you let him though still keeping the glare trained on the perpetrator. “settle down, princess,”

jungsu stands up on shaky knees, dusting himself off. “honestly, i’d be buzzkill if i cared enough about other people,” dowoon comments with a shrug.

“who’s the other one?” you ask him and he just shakes his head.

“i have no idea. they just told me to delete my account or else they’re going to start spreading even worse shit.”

“and you waited till they did?!” you angrily walk up back on him, making him back away.

“i didn’t think they were serious, okay?!”

seeing that you had no other else to say, jungsu inches towards the door, leaving you and dowoon inside. “damn, who would’ve thought,” he whistles.

“that some lowlife loser-nobody would turn to gossip for validation?” you retort sarcastically.

“well, what do you plan to do now? i assume you’re not the revenge type, ngl,” he shrugs as he leans on the sink counters.

you give him one last glare before walking, “then you assumed wrong.”

to be honest, dowoon was partially correct. as much as you hold grudges, you weren’t truly the type to fire back unless the situation calls for it—and this definitely did.

do you still find it in you to terrorize soojin after everything? probably not, especially when karma turned the tides on her. it feels a bit bizarre, thinking about what momo and yerin said, and then what jungsu explained earlier.

that buzzkiller only wanted jungsu to delete his account.

did it have something to do with you? maybe, maybe not. but one thing’s for sure, you’re not going to let them pass for what they did to gaon.

but in order to fight back against the social tides of this place, you would need resources and connections. both things you have and both seeds that you’ve planted from the start.

right on time, you receive a text from both nana and changbin that they’re on their way to your quaint little town. you mentioned each other to both of them, making sure that they’ll carpool on the way.

why? because even though changbin has heard of your situation, he doesn’t fully have it in him to totally care nor would he ever care to know about the full story.

in comes nana, who seems adamant on being obsessed about your life. there were no doubts that she’d keep talking the whole ride and possibly exaggerate how much trouble you’re in.

all you need to do is make sure you’ll be able to sway changbin to do whatever you want, and without any status and financial power backing you up, you need to play your cards right and aim straight for the heart—assuming he has one.

you checked off the weird note list on your phone, satisfied that you’ve found out who buzzkill is—and consequently, soojin has already been dealt with. you’re not one to add more fuel to the fire, especially when you’re also under judgeful eyes, it’s best to remain low profile.

you turn to the engineering department, making your way to a specific set of classroom doors where you see a lone man working on a project, “busy playing with motherboards when you’re not spinning tracks, i see,” you greet as you lean on the doorway.

“what do you want, y/n,” chan gruffs back but doesn’t turn away from his equipment.

“i went to see gaon earlier,” he perks up a bit at your words, looking at you.

“he still seems a bit down,” you honestly say. although you two might not see eye-to-eye, your common ground of caring for your companions allow you to have a moment of peace between each other.

“tell me, christopher bang. why are you such a dick?” you ask, though with more of a lighthearted tone as you sit across the table from him.

“what are you saying, i’m a delight,” he says monotonously, continuing his work.

“for a man who cares about the people around him, you sure seem adamant on leaving all of them behind,” you comment, making him narrow his eyes at you.

“just because i want to leave this place doesn’t mean i’m cutting off the people i care about. i’m not like you rich folk.”

you raise your eyebrows at his comment, “bitter much?”

“i’m right though, aren’t it? how many friends did you have before? then how many friends do you have after falling from your throne?” you purse your lips at his observation, making him smirk at you as he proves his point.

“we’re not all that bad,” you grumble, though chan doesn’t miss the way you said ‘we’ out of habit. it was one word, perhaps something you didn’t even mean to say, but it was enough to pique chan’s interest to keep it at the back of his head—that you still consider yourself as one of them.

“i’m yet to change my mind,” he shrugs.

“except for leo?” you ask, and he nods.

“like i said, he’s different,” you dryly laugh at his words, making him give you a questioning look. but you just shake your head. he’s definitely right that felix is indeed different, he just doesn’t know in what way.

“did you just come here to bother me?” chan grunts and you laugh.

“no, i wanted to figure you out,”

“and what for?”

you shrug, “just because i want to.”

he may have acted like grade-a scum around you, but your curiosity tops that more than your emotion. it’s not that you were giving him the benefit of the doubt, but you’ve grown up overlooking initial misdeeds for the sake of learning more about your enemy—keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

whether you consider chan one, or not, is something to be answered in the future.

but for now, you want to figure out the hows and whys of the way christopher bang acts—that way, it’ll be easy to gain the upperhand on him.

“so, christopher, why the not-so-vaguely concealed ‘eat the rich’ animosity?” you ask, putting your chin on the palm of your hands as you drop your keen gaze on him.

he chews on his lip, dropping his equipment before pondering over something on his mind. “fine, but only because i owe you a proper apology and consider this that.”

you shrug.

“my mother is the nicest person on the earth, nobody can convince me otherwise—she was a lively woman, always willing to help others. but of course, being too nice has it’s downsides too as a bunch of greedy capitalistic pigs fucked her over.” he details with extreme anger laced along every single word.

you can tell that he doesn’t want to go into too much detail, but you understand. he’s said enough—or at least, enough for now to explain a part of his persona.

although you want to rebut, you bite back the words threatening to spill from your mouth because you have enough wisdom to know that they aren’t the appropriate words to say right now, so you just slightly nod and watch him go back to his task.

“don’t you have a final rehearsal to go to right now?” he asked, not taking his eyes off his project, though you can tell it’s his way of getting rid of you so you stand.

“eager to get rid of me?” you say but he just grunts.

“the play is for the charity drive, if you don’t go there and do your best then i’ll assume that you hate charity,” he deadpans so you just roll your eyes before leaving.

“see you when i see you,” you dismiss, turning your heels towards the auditorium.

on a normal day, the school looks depressing. as if the sun refuses to show its face on an undeserving grim town. but today is different, seemingly happy to be supporting the charity drive.

“y/n! i didn’t think you’d come,” lucy says in exasperation, looking distressed.

“i don’t think i’m late?” you question a bit, looking at your schedule. you were 30 minutes early.

“yeah well minho and felix got here an hour ago so i thought you’d be around the same time and you haven’t yet and you know, you don’t have an understudy.” she rambles.

“relax, i’m not gonna flake on you.” you reassure her but the stress has already gotten to her. you make your way backstage to the dressing room, not noticing the tense atmosphere between minho and felix.

“good job being huge nerds and giving lucy a panic attack,” you greet them as you throw your purse to your chair.

minho instinctively stands to greet you but a single glare from you puts him back down on his seat, remembering how you’ve told him to bug off. nonetheless, you weren’t going to openly snob him.

“ready?” felix asks you from his chair and you just look at him weirdly.

“i literally just got here?” you look around, “where’s hair and makeup?”

felix raised his eyebrows and prevented himself from laughing at you, “sorry to disappoint, princess, but you should know by now not to expect any sort of luxury from this place.”

meanwhile, minho was one tap away from booking a gala stylist so you just decreed loudly that you’ll do your own look.

“i’m going to get dressed,” you excused yourself as you took your assigned clothing from the racks before leaving the two men alone, still unaware of their tense atmosphere.

as you exited, you suddenly remembered that you forgot your shoes—rookie mistake—but before you could go back to get it, you could overhear the two’s conversation from outside.

“seriously, man? i told you, any price you want, name it and i’ll give it.” minho exasperatedly sighs.

“what makes you think i can be bought?” felix rebuts but minho just laughs at him coldly.

“you, of all people, would decline money? didn’t you come from a filthy dump? i can give you stocks from our company and you’d be set for life, all you have to do is stay away from y/n, are you really saying she’s much more important than whatever luxury i can give?”

“i’m not saying that.”

“but that’s what you’re trying to portray,” minho added.

“you’re wrong,” felix snapped, “what i’m trying to portray is that i can work hard for my own luxuries and not have some snotty little spoiled brat come and buy me off just because he couldn’t get the only thing he ever truly wanted—a little pathetic of you, don’t you think?”

“say that shit again one more time, i dare you,”

“or else what? i’m living comfortably now, i don’t need your stuck-up money.”

“living comfortably how? killed someone? smuggled? you may hide a lot of things about yourself lee felix, but i know that whatever money you have right now, they couldn’t be cleaner even if you tried to.”

the conversation doesn’t seem to dial down in intensity, and if you were being honest, you didn’t know how to intervene.

“seriously, you don’t even like her, why are you trying so hard to keep yourself in her life?!” minho starts to get angrier and angrier but felix doesn’t let himself become too provoked. guys like lee minho are never worth it.

felix chooses to ignore him, already knowing that the conversation isn’t going anywhere, and so, you just shrug. you could just get your shoes later. there was no way you could go back inside without being able to act like you didn’t hear every second of their conversation.

you felt… confused.

first, you’re still mad at lee minho for acting unrightfully possessive, something that you didn’t expect from him. but most of all, you’re confused about felix.

sure, he’s probably changed a lot since you’ve last seen each other but it just opened up new avenues of questions that you want to know from him.

how did he get his money? is it from the time he left you? when he said he found a way to get out of his financial situation?

why is he adamant on proving that he’s above getting paid off now, especially when he used to do worse things for money back then. although he said it quite crassly, minho isn’t the most inaccurate with his accusations.

and most of all, is lee felix really the type of guy to reject minho’s proposition due to principle alone or is there something more to it? though that might just be the old, stupid part of you that’s trying to shout within the other questions in your head. you don’t care if there isn’t anything more to it. you definitely don’t.

“y/n? focus!” lucy snapped you back to reality, not noticing that you were already standing on stage for the final rehearsal.

you felt apologetic for dazing out but you couldn’t fully care. not when the perpetrator of your current state is standing mere inches from you, while the other one is throwing icy glares from behind the curtains.

“you okay?” felix whispered as lucy keeps shouting at everyone to go through the lines again.

you just nodded meekly, but knowing you, it set off alarm bells in felix’s mind.

“i think she doesn’t feel well,” felix spoke up, holding you gently by the arm as he excuses you from lucy who seems to be aging 10 years per second as of the current moment.

“are you going to be okay? can you still make it for the show?” she wants to keep running her mouth, trying her best to check up on you, but you can tell that she’s a bit too stressed to wish you well when she needs you on-stage.

“i’m fine, i don’t need to rest, lee is overreacting,” you snatch your hand away from felix and walked back to your position, getting your fire back.

you weren’t going to let two confusing men get your head out of the game, not when you’ve promised lucy you’d commit to it. although felix seems confused because he can see through the walls you built, he let’s it go, knowing he can’t win against your stubbornness.

time flies by fast and at this point, you’ve just tuned out the world and hope you’ll be acting perfectly at the showcase.

with a few minutes till showtime, you try to collect yourself in the dressing room, breathing deeply to prepare yourself from hopefully avoiding embarrassing yourself—although lucy said you seemed like a natural, you weren’t fully confident in nailing it because you’ve never done it before.

you hear the click of the door, not minding the entry until they spoke up, “y/n?”

your face drops once more, glaring at minho, “what do you want?”

he sighs, “i know you’re mad at me, and i know you told me not to talk to you anymore but can i just have one last talk with you, please?”

“and you thought about doing this a few minutes before the show because?” you fire at him with a raised brow.

he runs his hands all over his face as he takes a seat beside you, “i just—i’ll leave you alone right away so just give me this last moment, and i’ll be gone from your life.”

you tilt your head in confusion, “not staying around to watch the show?”

“you know why i won’t,” he sighs once more.

ah, right, the kissing scene.

as cliché as it might sound, there is indeed a kissing scene in the script.

hence why minho was so desperate to take the lead role and hence why he’s so adamant about avoiding it now.

you’ve never practiced the real thing so to be completely honest, you forgot about it, and now that you remember, your heartbeat doubled tenfold.

“ok,” you nod at him, “what do you want to say?”

he thinks it over for a few seconds, “i’ve always loved you, always. you were so…. so wonderful. every time you walk into the room, you just make everything better. every time i hear your voice, it just fills me with a sense of comfort. whenever you smile, i can’t help but smile too, so i always wanted to be the one to make you happy.”

you let him continue.

“you’re like a cheerful and energetic summer vacation at the beach, but you’re also a cozy and warm winter by the fireplace. no matter what i do, i just can’t help but think about you all the time, wanting to be with you.”

your shoulders sag in defeat, “that’s really sweet minho, it really is—and trust me, you’re a very important person in my life but you know i can’t give you more than that… friendship.”

you can see him stopping his tears from falling but his reddish nose was enough of a giveaway.

“i know that… but at least be honest with me—is it because of him?” he asks, though the question makes you irate.

“seriously?!” he seems taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor.

“after years and years of knowing me, you really think that i’m some sappy damsel that can’t function by herself without a man by her side?” you ask him, flabbergasted.

though he tries to cover up his mistake, you retaliate again, “and why do you think that some other guy is the reason why i’d reject you and not because of the creepy possessiveness that you’ve been hiding from me that i wouldn’t’ve have found out if seo changbin hadn’t ran his big stupid mouth? hm?”

“do you think i’d appreciate someone who kept me away from any other potential person that i wanted to have been with? do you think it was for you to decide who i get to end up with or not?” you keep shouting.

you slam your hands on the table before walking away. rich kids, no matter how different they may be, they all show their entitlement one way or another. for minho, you were just another luxury. something that he thinks he has ownership of because he has a lot of money. you hated it.

perhaps chan was a bit right. you felt shudders as you imagined how your personality looked like in his perspective.

perhaps this was the wakeup call you needed.

“y/n, wait please!” minho tries to run after you but you shove his arms off, “i don’t want things to end like this.”

you turn to him with a cold gaze, “i promised you one final talk, not a sweet closure. now leave.”

he didn’t have time to catch up to you because lucy already appeared from the corner and pulled you backstage, “break a leg!”

you hate how minho would distract you in such a crucial moment but you’re glad that it’s already over with.

the play seems to pass by in a blur, not even remembering the faces in the crowd. the lines flowed out of your mouth smoothly like butter, and the prospect of felix being your leading man didn’t even fully sink into you.

you embodied your character, disassociated yourself from your body and let the acting take it’s place.

that is, until the final scene came.

the screenplay, proudly written by lucy, is a story between two star-crossed lovers.

like romeo and juliet, if you will. but instead of their families being against each other, it’s the two characters themselves that are sworn enemies and are trying their hardest to stay away from each other. to sabotage every encounter they have because they despise each other, even though a part deep within them knows that they’re soulmates. a forbidden romance, an enemies to lovers trope, it’s got every reused trope imaginable—a cat and dog dynamic, a betrayal, the secretive glances.

you hated it because the irony seeps within your skin, and you wonder whether felix could see the irony in it too.

in the last scene, the main girl—you—are lying on the ground, held within felix’s arms as you sport fake blood on your abdomen, acting as if you’ve been shot from a previous combat encounter.

it was the prospect of losing you did felix’s character realize that they can’t live without you.

“i will beg and plead the gods everyday for you to stay forever with me, my love.” his soft brown eyes boring into you, “and i will swear to you, with my own life on the line, that i will never leave your side.”

you just lay there, limp on his arms, the life seeping out of you as you bite on the fake blood pill on your cheek as you cough out your last breaths. spluttering a few on felix’s face, littered among his star-like freckles.

although you convince yourself that you’re not the character, and the words weren’t for you, when you hear the final whisper of the last line, “i will never betray you anymore even if they take my head for it.”—tears start to flow out of your eyes as felix leans down and overwhelms you with a passionate kiss.

not like anything you’ve ever felt before. too real, it felt too real, your tears won’t stop flowing but the show must go on, never letting go until the last second when the curtains are inches away from closing and you deliver the final motion of you finally losing your life—ridding the audience of all hope between the two lovers.

when the curtains close and you’re left alone at the dark stage, you pick yourself up, wiping away the tears before standing next to felix, ready to take the final bow with the entire cast once the curtains reopen.

cheers erupt but you’re numb to everything as you countdown from the seconds until you can get the hell away from there.

when he catches you backstage, felix grabs your arm, “are you okay?”

you look at him with a deadpan expression, “why would i not be?”

“i’m not daft, y/n, i know you didn’t cry because of the play.”

you roll your eyes, “bold of you to assume i’m not just a good actress,” you say as you shake him off you.

the last thing you need right now is for felix to catch you in a moment of weakness—because you never are.

you feel him still sticking his gaze on you even when you’ve long arrived at the dressing room, with minho gone, the tense atmosphere was now heavy between you two, but you try to ignore it as you fix your belongings.

annoyed by the fact that he won’t stop following your every movement, you leave for the bathroom to get dressed.

when you get back to the area, you catch a glimpse of an embrace between lucy and felix, but since you’ve arrived the moment they let go of each other, you couldn’t really tell how long it lasted—vis-a-vis the judgment basis on two people’s relationship based on how long their hugs last. felix was the first one to notice you and he immediately averted his gaze, but you couldn’t tell why.

“y/n!” lucy giddily runs towards you as she sees you by the door, “i was just congratulating yongbok, you two did so great! i swear i was crying by the curtains!”

“thanks.” you gave her a tight-lipped smile, feeling off about what you saw, though you don’t really know why.

jealousy? as if.

“the donations were through the roof, i bet you pulled some strings, didn’t you? i don’t think the theater club ever made this big of a profit since.. ever!” she keeps yapping on about the achievement.

“wait, what’s the reward for the highest bidder?” you ask, remembering that specific part she mentioned before.

with that, lucy shifts her weight from one foot to another, suddenly feeling uneasy, “well… that… umm… a date with you.”

your ears start to ring, suddenly feeling whiplash at her statement, you blink a few times before towering over her, “you did what?”

“i’m sorry!” she immediately cowers, “we were desperate and we thought it was the only way we could get people to donate!”

“so you whored me out?! without my permission?!” you grit your teeth at her. you calm yourself down, glaring at the apologetic girl.

“who’s the highest bidder?” you ask and she glances towards felix.

“well—your co-star is.” lucy points.

you risk a glance towards felix but he’s still pretending like he wasn’t part of the conversation, seemingly more interested in the mirror than at you.

you sigh defeatedly, remembering chan’s words that this was for a good cause and that he’ll assume you hate charity if you don’t help you. not that you care about what christopher bang thinks but you wouldn’t wave away charity, “great, when’s this date then?”

“that’s up to you two,” lucy says. felix stands up in a flash, confusing you whether he wants you to follow or not, but he answers that question for you.

“luce, let’s go home,” he gestures for your colleague, confusing you even further.

luce?

seriously, what game is he trying to play here?!

though it seems like lucy was more confused than you. nonetheless, she follows, leaving you alone without so much of a goodbye.

when the two leave through the door, they bump into a familiar presence, “whoops, ‘scuse me, thanks.”

you snap your head up, raising your eyebrows at the visitor, unsurprisingly, he raises his back at you.

“why do you look surprised, you called me here to visit you,” changbin pipes making you roll your eyes.

“how are you doing, bin?” you sit, urging him to a chair besides yours.

“good, good, it was a nice show,” he nods.

“where’s nana?” you ask and he makes a gagging face.

“the girl who never stops talking? she met up with a guy, average height, small eyes, brownish hair, name sounds like dung or something.”

“jungsu,” you rolled your eyes. nana probably confronted the poor bastard as well, because of course she would.

“well that’s actually why i came here right now, y’know? i was just going to watch and leave but nana told me lots of stuff.”

you shift in your seat, wondering what he’s about to say next.

“like, this place seems like a horrible, horrible place to live in—i mean, she showed me the twitter posts!” he exclaims, “look, i’m not one to judge but like, damn, y’all live like this?”

“it’s not like i have a choice,” you shrug.

“well i’m giving you one.”

your eyebrows raise at his statement.

“i know you’re smart and capable, y/n, come work for our company and we’ll have everything set out for you.”

you want to be offended but you’ve known changbin enough times that even when he sounds awfully crass, 80% of the time, he actually means well.

“thanks changbin but i’d rather not.” you reject politely.

“i knew you’d say that, just wanted to offer you an option in case this place becomes a little too much. don’t get me wrong, i don’t care, but when i think about you, it dawns on me that we used to live the same life, and if in a cruel twist of fate, we hypothetically go bankrupt, i can’t imagine being in your shoes.”

“wow, seo changbin learned empathy? how did you level up?” he rolls his eyes at your sarcastic remark but laughs it off along with you.

“you know i don’t take shortcuts,” you say when the laughter dies down, he nods understandingly.

“is that why you sent minho away?” he asks and you nod back, of course he already would’ve heard about it.

“he’s my best friend and now… i question all of those moments with him,”

changbin leans on his seat towards you, giving you a serious face, “his current morals might be askew when it comes to his approach in pursuing you, but if i know anything about minho, it’s that he’s never been anything else but sincere for what his feelings towards you. his only fault was being so down astronomically bad for you that he became a bit too possessive.”

“but now he’s gone.”

“it’s hard to bring back a pure friendship after whatever went down but at least there may come a time where you can be civil with one another once more.”

you really hope so.

changbin offered you a ride home, which you graciously accepted because it gave you time to catch up with nana. at first, you’ve always felt overwhelmed with the chatterbox, but now, there was a certain sense of comfort in hearing her neverending voice.

remembering the days of her always following you around in the cafeteria, trying to chat you up with the most random things. you feel guilty that you always took her company for granted, thinking that people like nana come to your life in handfuls, not realizing that her pure sincerity, admiration, and enthusiasm towards you is as rare as they come.

she also recounts how she gave jungsu an earful after tracking him down all over campus.

it also gets a giggle out of you when you saw changbin seemingly driving his earbuds further into his ears to tune out the girl.

“you sure you don’t want to stay for a night? it’s already past 12.” you offer changbin, and he almost seems to scrunch his face in disgust at the offer.

“well, i’d say yes but my boyfriends and girlfriends would miss me too much,” you roll your eyes at him, though you know the environment of your shitty town was the only reason why he didn’t want to stay.

because surprisingly enough, nana didn’t want to either.

with one last goodbye from the two unlikely companions, you go inside your modest house as you watch them drive away back to the uptown city.

you know your father would be out for work and the housekeeper, jina, doesn’t really stay past the late hours of the night, but there was still that pinching loneliness that crept in your heart when you entered the dark, gloomy house.

you can’t even find it within you to call it a home.

everytime you enter the door, it felt like a temporary space—like a place that you will soon leave the moment you could.

and when things are temporary, they never feel fully comfortable.

you take deep breaths as you let the emotions of everything take over you.

stomping up the stairs to your bedroom, you slam the door shut with all your might, feeling comfortable enough to throw a tantrum because no one was around to witness it anyway.

you sit in front of your vanity, seeing the glimmer of your necklace in the moonlight—unknowingly so, you realize that you’re still wearing the necklace that minho gave you during your 18th birthday.

you’ve gotten used to wearing it that you didn’t even realize you still are.

that’s how minho is—a part of your life that’s always been there, instinctively, you know that he’s always around and ready to support you. being around minho was as natural as breathing air.

minho is just minho.

but now, that entire friendship is broken.

you broke out into sobs as you clutch the necklace, ripping it from your neck as you drown out the sound of your own cries with the clattering pearls of the accessory.

stupid minho.

stupid felix.

stupid town.

everything sucks.

soojin and her bitchiness. the feeling of not belonging everywhere. rat face kim jungsu and his nosy twitter gossip feed. stupid chan and his shitty personality.

you hate everything.

you close your eyes, letting the overwhelming feelings take over you, hoping that you can get them all out in one go so you can go back to being the walled-off new girl that you started with.

but as you try to reminisce about the “better days”, instead of seeing the past of you spending time shopping in luxury brands or taking cross-country vacations with splendor, you see the days you’ve had in the trailer park.

the time where you started orbiting around felix’s world.

meeting him gave you a drive you never knew you had, and you wish for those “good ol’ days”

ironic.

life is just a never ending tragic comedy.

you stand up in frustration, looking around your room—it was filled with mementos from minho.

so you tear them all one by one.

the framed picture of you two.

the shoes he gave you.

the perfumes.

the accessories.

the clothes.

every single thing in your room screamed minho, so you shout out in annoyance. how could you have been so blind not to realize that he’s basically been marking you. no wonder people thought you were together.

you litter all of those material things on the ground, hoping that you trashed them enough.

you rest your head on the wall, a knocking on your window flinches you in surprise as you see the man in your mind suddenly manifest.

his face gleaming in the moonlight, illuminated against the window, in contrast to your dark bedroom.

you didn’t realize you were staring agape at felix until he knocked again, making you aggressively wipe away the evidence of weakness on your face before coming to him.

“are you a psycho?!” you shout at him but he just crosses over the ledge, sitting on your windowsill as he dangles his legs on your bedroom.

“you’re crying again,” he points out, making you roll your eyes, but his face is filled with nothing but concern as he witnessed your earlier outburst. though out of respect of your emotions and boundaries, he doesn’t bring it up.

“gee, sherlock, never noticed.”

“what’s wrong?” he asks with pure sincerity that he could almost trick you into thinking he actually cared.

“why do you care?”

“i just do,” he shrugs, making you roll your eyes.

“lee felix, you are the most complicated man i know.”

he just thinks for a moment before replying, “i don’t think i am.”

you raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue.

“i know what i want and i chase after that, that’s just who i am,” his eyes hold yours in an intense gaze, one that made you look away or else you’d probably misunderstand his words.

“and what the hell are you doing here then?”

he breathes out, “i—just wanted to check up on you.”

you roll your eyes at him but he continues, “i heard your conversation with minho.”

you glare at him for eavesdropping but he crosses his arms, “and i know you heard ours too.”

touché.

“if you’re here to cash in on your date then i’m sorry to say that i think you might have to come back another day,” you stretch your arms to push it off but he just catches his hands on yours.

“i wasn’t lying last time,” he says softly as he intertwined his fingers in yours, “i really do miss you—”

“so..” he pulls you closer to him.

“so..” closer.

“much.” until you were so close he could wrap his arms around your waist, so he does.

and for some reason, you didn’t have the strength to resist him. not when you weren’t limited to seven minutes.

not when you’ve been so tired of everything.

not when you know you’ve missed him too.

and felix knows, given by the way his eyes soften when you melt against his touch.

“what do you want?” you try to be strong in resisting him, but when you can barely tear your eyes away from him, your voice just comes out as a soft whisper.

“i want to kiss you, so bad.”

“you already did.”

he shakes his head, “not in that kind of setting.”

you give in.

slowly leaning down to his face until you can smell the faint mint on his breath—until the jingling of keys stops you in your tracks.

it was probably your father, and normally, you don’t care.

but that wasn’t what made you stop.

it was only because it gave you a small wake-up call, remembering lucy and felix’s closeness.

what is she to you?

what did you talk about?

what did the hug mean?

felix shows you a tiny bit of affection and suddenly you’re wrapped around his finger again.

you hate it.

you separate yourself from him, “i think you should go.”

you couldn’t bring it in you to ask directly, thinking that you’ll sound like a jealous girlfriend—characteristics which you’re both not. so you had no right to do so.

although felix was a bit reluctant to part, when he hears your father calling you downstairs, he follows the command.

he squeezes your hand one last time, giving you a longing look before disappearing through the roofs.

you think that maybe there was already a secret connection between lucy and felix—besides, why would he agree to doing theater when he especially doesn’t seem like the type to do so.

perhaps your re-appearance probably just confused him, made him feel things from the past, but you weren’t one to wreck a relationship.

so with a heavy heart, you make a promise not to spread anymore chaos in your path, not when you’ve finally had enough. no more vengeance, no more revenge, no more chasing red lines.

you already know who buzzkill is, and the second one: buzzkiller, already went silent afterward.

soojin probably won’t show her face in a while.

gaon is getting the help that he needs through the support system that values him dearly.

you already reached an equal footing with chan.

and there’s nothing else you can do but to remain lowkey, hoping that everything will go back to normal.

“sweeti—holy hell, what tornado came through here?” your father greets as he peeks his head through your door, blinding you as he opens the lights.

“geez, i was just looking for my tiffany earrings,” you lie, but your father can see right through you.

nonetheless, he doesn’t mention anything, “i have some news.”

“what? you remarrying yet?” you joke, which he waves off with an eyeroll.

“no, even better.” you perk at his enthusiasm.

“we can go back to the city now.”

synopsis: rich yet down-to-earth. devilishly handsome yet an angelic sweetheart. before you transferred to university, lee felix had already established a fine reputation for himself—beloved by everyone, a personality that can bring world peace. but something seems off—because you've definitely seen him before, and he's not as sweet as he makes himself out to be.

taglist: @mochisnlix @pikapikapikaachuu @justyournormalsimp @yubinism @beaann @kangyounghyunhands @chi-haku @chefmingyu @imnyti @fraeppuccino @aerastus

mastertag: @geniejunn @leagreenly @90s-belladonna @fuzzylard @loveliebri @chimmybaek7 @todorokiskitten @lilacdreams-00 @ethereallino @ninjaleeknow @trials--error @hey-i-really-miss-you @caratinylyfe @soobin-chois

thoughts and feedback pls 🤲

#happy d day

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buglife · 3 years

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Shh I got inspired by those doodles I did of Monomon and sick bby Quirrel so I wrote a ficlet.

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It had been a few months since Monomon found a tiny pip rolling around the trash in the City of Tears. She thought at first that it was some sort of ball that some child had lost. Then it sneezed, which scared the hell out of her. She had looked closer and she was surprised to see a nearly transparent pip crawling around the garbage. The poor thing was dented up and was attempting to eat a discarded cloak. When he saw her, he hissed and curled up into a ball, thinking that if he couldn’t see her, than she couldn’t see him. She had picked him up, this little shivering ball of tenacity, and took him with her.

One thing lead to another and she had found herself as an adoptive mother to a baby isopod. The doctor she took him too told her that he shouldn’t even be out of the pouch, let alone being all by himself. Either he was abandoned or something unfortunate happened to his mother, and having the guard investigate gave her no answers. She decided that it was probably going to be a mystery forever, and decided to focus her energy on raising her newly acquired son.

She had named him Quirrel, after an old philosopher who often wrote about the beauty of the world. She somehow knew he’d be able to see the world for the beautiful thing as it is and not be focused on the doom and gloom of it all. She was a scientist, so of course she could find beauty in even the smallest micro-organism and all the way to the desolate wastes. Something told her he’d see it too.

Her high hopes proved to be true, as he turned out to be a rather clever little pip. He was still far too young for speech, or even to be roaming about by himself, so she decided to conduct a little experiment. Sign language wasn’t uncommon in Hallownest, but most non-hindered bugs tended to learn it after they have mastered speech and not before. What if she taught Quirrel, a little pip, some sign language now?

Her experiment bore fruit, and he learned some signs quickly. It was only a few words now that were simple to sign. He was still a baby and lacked the fine motor control for the more complex signs, but he could at least tell her when he was hungry or if he wanted something. She imagined that this experiment could do a lot of good in the end.

What concerned her however, was the lack of actual noise he made.

Quirrel was an incredibly quiet baby at he beginning. He simply refused to make much noise at all, and when he did, he flinched as though expecting to be punished for it. It had taken weeks of positive reinforcement before he started making the noises a little pip was expected to be making. It was very endearing to see him babbling and having her students babble back at him. His tiny eyes would light up and he’d wiggle in excitement before continuing the ‘conversation’. Even with all the encouragements from both her and her students, he still preferred to be quiet, napping through most of the day whilst in her pip pocket. That was normal for an isopod this young, but it was still concerning that he felt that he had to stay quiet.

That changed early one morning when he started to audibly fuss. Usually he’d just try to escape when bored, writhing about and trying to climb out of the pocket. But today, at the most ungodly early hour, he was making noises, squeaking and hissing in what seemed to be discomfort. Monomon had at first though he was hungry, but he outright refused his usual leaf paste. She tried tiktik bits, sliced fruit, and even a cookie, but he refused it all and grew increasingly more frustrated with each rejected food item.

She had tried asking him to tell her what was wrong through sign language, but he was either unwilling or unable to bother with it.

Finally he had enough, and began to wail, loudly. She had never heard him make a noise that loud before and it startled her enough to spill the juice she was trying to tempt him with all over herself. He only stopped loud enough to take a breath before belting out another heaving cry, little eyes overflowing with tears as he made his discomfort known.

“Shhhh….shhhh...it’s okay, my little one.” She attempted to try and comfort him, but he just wailed louder.

Concerned, she picked him up and tucked him under her chin, trying to soothe the sobbing pillbug, when she noticed what could be causing all this pain. His forehead was burning hot, and he was faintly shivering as he bawled into her veil. It wasn’t hard to figure out that her pip was ill and she plucked him out from her embrace to take a better look at him.

There were bags under his eyes and his face was tinged blue with heat. He had his mandibles open wide enough when crying that she can see some swelling in the back of his throat. She gently palpitated his belly and could feel the organs within twist and with every movement he cried harder. So, he was nauseous, which made sense on why he would refuse a cookie. Fever, chills, sore throat, most likely he picked something up from one of the students. She mentally kicked herself, she should have made her students wash up before picking him up as they liked to do. She should have not allowed them to give him little smooches and hugs. She should have not brought him with her at all when among the masses of students and archivists that swarmed about her. But she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him all alone, not after what he’d been through.

The fact of the matter is that no amount of hindsight was going to change the fact that Quirrel caught something and was currently not having a very good time about it. His wails were starting to sound raspy and wet, no doubt that his sinuses were starting to be affected too. The sheer amount of screaming wasn’t helping matters and her thoughts raced on what she should do.

“Modern Manca Medicine, Chapter Seven, pages nine through ten,” She recited out loud as she recalled one of the many books she absorbed after taking Quirrel in, “Common treatment options for sickly manca and juvenile pillbugs include swaddling and standard fever reduction tactics for most invertebrates. Hrm... Grubs and You: A New Mother’s Guide, Chapter Nine, page twelve. When a child refuses to eat, honey is a suitable way to provide needed nutrition and slip in medication without upsetting the stomach. Hrm... that would work, wouldn’t it?”

Quirrel continued his crying, rapidly losing his voice, and she brushed a kiss on the top of his head to comfort him. His antenna twitched and his sobbing died down just a teensy bit, but it was enough for her to notice. He must have smelled her and realized she was going to help him, his eyes were too full of tears to be much use to him at the moment. She grabbed a spare blanket and wrapped him up tightly to deal with the shivers. He instantly stopped wriggling so hard and she managed to slip him back into the pip pocket without much incident.

Next, a cool cloth was needed. She needed to bring down his fever so he could rest. That wasn’t too hard to find. She ended up tying the wet cloth on his head like you would a kerchief, pinning down his antenna so they can cool down as well. She was quite happy to find that after she did that, he had stopped his wailing. He was still making noises of discomfort, squeaking and hiccupping, but he wasn’t outright screaming anymore. Her auditory organs was most happy with that turn of events for sure.

“Herbal Remedies for the Modern Bug, Chapter two, pages one through twenty.” She floated quickly to her herb cabinet, selecting dried bundles here and there. Lemon balm for fever, mint and ginger for his stomach, marshmallow root for his throat, maybe licorice root too? Lavender and Chamomile to help him sleep so he can focus on getting better, yes, that should do it. She mentally ran through the list, using a free set of tentacles to rock Quirrel gently. For now he seemed content to stay in his pocket, squeaking here and there as he braved through his illness. Poor little pip...she resolved to give him extra cookies once he felt well enough to eat them.

She put a kettle to boil and threw her selected herbs inside to seep and condense. She would have used her alchemical equipment to do this faster, but she didn’t feel like taking him downstairs where there would be students and workers showing up. When Quirrel started fussing again, she replaced his now warm cloth with a freshly cooled one, and he quieted down again.

Finally, the kettle had boiled enough and she strained the liquid into a bowl. Next, she took out a jar of honey and began the delicate procedure of making medicine that won’t be instantly spat out by a fussy grub. She calculated that a 2:1 ratio should work the best as he would be less likely to spit up something that tasted relatively good. Eventually, she mixed up a small cup full of her makeshift medicine and retrieved a clean eyedropper. Calculating body weight, she drew up half a measure, and with that finished she went to attempt to give it to Quirrel.

He, of course, put up a fuss, and began screaming again. She understood why, he wasn’t feeling well and his belly was hurting. The last thing he would want right now was something to go down into said hurting belly and she was not surprised when he tried to bite her a few times. Unfortunately for him, Isopods are not known for being able to do much more than nibble. Using that to her advantage, she let him latch on to the end of one of her tentacles, letting him get nice and occupied, and then shoved the end of the eyedropper into the corner of his mouth. The medicine was squirted down his throat before he could do anything to stop it and for that he bit her harder. He even hissed a little and it would be adorable if he wasn’t feeling so poorly.

He let go to scream again, but then stopped and stuck out his tongue. He was obviously tasting the honey now, and he loved honey. Monomon sighed in relief, at least next time she gave him a dose she wouldn’t get bit for her troubles. He opened his mouth a couple times and blinked, looking up at her face. He lifted up his hands and wiggled them.

“Abah?” He sniffled, trying to clear his throat and sinus.

“Hrm, what do you want, my little scholar?” She was pleased to not longer see him screaming. “Use your hand words.”

He made two fists and bumped them together. <”more,”> he signed.

“Of course, you can have more honey. I think you deserve it, after putting up with all that.”

He seemed happy with the idea, and she was able to give him another teaspoon of honey before he signed ‘done’ at her. His little belly could only take so much now and she took the time to wipe his face clean. He fussed at the cleaning, but yawned once she finished. Clearly the medicine was starting to work, his breathing was better and feeling his gut showed that it was settling down. She gave him a nuzzle and a kiss and tucked him back into his pip pocket. He was asleep nearly instantly and she gently strapped the pocket to herself once more.

Once he was secure she floated downstairs and was once again, swept up into the chaos of the Archives. Someone had accidentally released the charged lumaflies and they were setting books on fire.

Thankfully, Quirrel slept through the whole thing.

#hollow knight #fanfiction #my writing #monomon the teacher #quirrel #sickfic #baby quirrel #tiny scholar au #terra lumina #monomom #my niece learned some sign language when she was a toddler and it really helped with communication #she could sign if she wasn't feeling good or if she was tired #so here's how quirrel started off fluent in sign lanquage #hurt/comfort #i think you can call this hurt comfort?

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wordynerdygurl · 3 years

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Skin Deep - Part 6

Author’s Note: Honestly, this story is nearing it’s ending. Hard to believe that a little idea I couldn’t shake has now grown into this mini-series! For all my die-hard homies, waiting for the next installment, I hope this is worth your while! If you’re new here, take a look around, see if you like anything and please, let the management know if you have any questions!! As always, writing like this requires the emotional support of people and pets. My dogs, Murphy and Winston, get me through a lot of plot bunnies just by being stalwart companions. My husband, graciously, lets me take these flights of fancy when I probably should be paying better attention to him and his day... and some of my besties here on Tumblr make it possible for me to do this for you guys. @sammy-jo1977 , my sister from another mister! Couldn’t/ Wouldn’t do it without you! To all the folks who follow me... My Minxes! Love you all! Stay well, be kind, and remember that Love, really does conquer all! If you want to be a Minx, send me a note, I’ll happily add you to my tag list! Lastly, be sure to like and share anything that you see on Tumblr that catches your eye. Creative types, we need the constant validation, you see? Without it, like an unwatered plant, we wither on the vine and perish! Be kind to those who help you through the day and reblog! Skin Deep Part 5 - click here for the previous chapter! Pairing: Loki x Reader, Steve, Valkyrie & Thor all make appearances Summary: Continued from Part 5, You and Loki put your plan into action, returning to Farmhouse. When you encounter Steve again, you learn there’s more than two sides to this story. Warnings: Loki’s POV and perspective, including mentions of his time under Thanos. I’m re-writing MCU history here, but some of the main beats are the same, so look out for SPOILERS for Dark World, Ragnarok, and a touch of Infinity War. The SNAP never happened because, reasons.

Empathy used to seem such a human emotion. Loki had no time for that on Asgard, not when Odin denied anything as frivolous as feeling. Hiding in plain sight was the means to survival and if that made the young prince sneaky and sly, so be it. By placing those parts of himself under lock and key; the parts that hurt, the ones that ached, Loki found it was safer to disconnect from others than subject himself to their suffering too.

Operating under the influence of Thanos and his minions when he held the scepter, Loki had purposefully divorced connection of any kind from his mind. It was dangerous. Weak. And moreover, it allowed Loki to do what Thanos commanded without really experiencing the horror, the havoc, of his actions for himself.

Who could hear the screams of women when the voice of Ebony Maw subliminally chanted all the ways that one could be dismembered at Thanos’ hands should Loki fail? What man would shed a tear after the near constant beatings doled out by Black Order members, just for the fun of it? How could someone care about a house, a car, a city, when they no longer cared about themself? Losing the Battle for New York had consequences far beyond the destruction of property. With Thanos’ hold over him vanquished, the walls around his heart, constructed in youth, crashed and burned like the dream of ruling Earth. Suddenly and completely out of reserves, Loki was powerless. And he felt everything. The fresh hurts caused by his manipulated ambitions in the hands of Thanos. The furious feelings of his brother, the inadequacies of his character, the feeble needs that drove his wild ambition washed over him unceasingly. Anger. Loss. Lunacy. Loki learned a hard truth in that moment. He was a monster. A freak. A creature beyond hope and salvation; proving his adoptive father right and his own hopeful heart wrong. Bitterness soured the fallen prince. Endless hours in isolation on Earth, which continued in his father's house, had Loki believing he had no chance of seeing the world outside again, and it hardened his heart further. To feel was so painful, so raw, and so humane. Why bother anyway? All that emoting, those high spirits, all they really did was expose you to derision. What was grief to a goblin? What was horror to a monster? What was love to a villain like him? An evil, conspiring demi-god, with a mind bent toward domination. A damaged, destroyed, deity alone and in pieces. Who would ever give someone like Loki Odinson a chance? Why should they?

Turning to his mother, Loki did everything but ask for forgiveness. In long rambling talks, her projection to his jailed person, the pair talked around ideas of guilt and innocence, of fate and fortune, of destiny versus desire, yet Loki never heard the words he needed in order to truly find peace.

If Frigga was aware of her son’s need for absolution, Loki would never know, as their last exchange was harsh and full of anger. Another stroke of loss, crippling now, because there was nothing Loki could do to change any of it from inside his prison cell. No illusion could conceal the painful ache that consumed him entirely.

Those days were dark, even for a soul as dusky hued as his own, and Loki’s thoughts followed a similar path. If there had been a way for him to shake off this immortal coil, free himself of the burden of living, Loki would have done so and been glad. Death was welcome compared to all this longing and heartache. But life, even a nearly immortal one, was funny.

When Thor provided a chance at redemption, Loki snatched at it, in his own detached way. He played hero, rescuing Jane, aiding his brother. And if he took a bit more in the form of deposing his arrogant, aging father, who would be surprised? He was Loki, God of Mischief, after all. Ruling the Nine Realms without the oppressive oversight of his father allowed Loki to prove himself in ways he never imagined. And Loki wasn’t just good at it. He was great. Of course, it helped that no one knew he was Loki. Living disguised as Odin was often unpleasant, frequently frustrating, but entirely necessary. Being Loki was still too difficult and likely to bring unwanted attention in the form of The God of Thunder, a thing that no one truly wanted, Loki least of all. Return Thor did, along with an unknown sister and the end of Asgard. When confronted with the insanity of Hela’s bloodlust, Loki’s only thought was of his kingdom, now without a ruler. He had worked too hard, too long, to see the land he cared for in the hands of an enemy, even if she called herself sister. Opening the Bi-Frost, panicked, his mind was solely on saving those he had recently held dominion over. They were his people, after all. But he never reached Asgard. Swallowing his fear, Loki focused all his energy on staying alive in a new and distracting environment, initially. What Loki found on Sakaar wasn't a new home base under a flamboyant, ineffective leader that he could control, even if that was his first design. On Sakaar Loki found his loyalty.

The proud, deep resonance of being Asgardian, of being an Odinson, of being capable and cool under pressure. Sure, he had to prove himself to Thor, Valkyrie, Banner and honestly, the rest of the kingdom, but actions speak louder than words. And through his actions on Sakkar, and by extension rescuing the people of Asgard, Loki had shown everybody his true mettle. It was on the deck of a stolen ship headed for Midgard that Loki had made a commitment of sorts. One that was not to the people, so recently saved or for his found family. This time, the promise Loki intended to keep was for himself. Loki was going to change. The problem is, a task like that takes time. Patience. Motivation. It was something that Loki had to work at and it was exhausting. They say that the best things come to those who wait. Loki was learning to wait everyday. Having earned a place at the side of his brother, he worked tirelessly to win over the heroes of his new home planet. Was it easy? Hardly, but Loki wasn’t willing to compromise. Not anymore. A life like Hela’s was not in his runes. Loki was simply going to be better. Not perfect. No one could be as good hearted as Captain America, nor could one be as tech savvy as Stark. So Loki was planning on being the best Loki he could possibly be, and that’s how he found himself going to meetings at The Avengers Tower, a mostly welcome addition to the team. Meetings weren’t all that exciting and boredom was an awful temptation for a deity devoted to mayhem. In fact, Loki spent more time doodling in his notebook than listening to whoever was droning on about whatever part of the world needed the attention of this motley crew. That was, until Pepper Potts hired her new assistant. That you were polite, pretty and pert wasn’t lost on the young god. Sitting outside Mrs. Iron Man’s office, typing away with a phone tucked under your ear, moving faster than anyone he had ever seen was certainly impressive. You were quick witted, clever and most of all, funny. Everyone else seemed to fall under your spell without much effort on your part, something that Loki found frustratingly fascinating. Here he was, struggling to get people to say his name without having a traumatic flashback, while you simply smiled and smarted off prettily, and had everyone singing your praises. But Norns, were you adorable. If he thought about it, and while off planet, Loki definitely had, he could remember the moment he realized that you were the woman he wanted. You were busy, as always, fielding phone calls and flipping through screens yet every moment your flying fingers weren’t hovering over a keyboard or pushing down telephone buttons they curled around a heart shaped charm at your throat. Clearly, it was a habit and one that you weren’t even aware of, still - it transfixed him all the same. Watching you from his side eye, your voice never wavering, your tone always so pleasing, and your nimble digits returning again and again to the small sigil around your neck. “Loki?” “Huh?” Dumbfounded at your call, those deep sea eyes blinked wildly at the sound of his name on your lips. “Hi! Yes, Pepper can see you now. Go ahead, she’s ready!” He rose on stiff legs, adjusting his tie, about to lie to Tony Stark’s woman all for the chance to see you in passing. Who had he become? It started out innocent like that, but soon, Loki was having to invent excuses for being in the office so frequently. Missing files, random visits, even going so far as to buy Tony coffee just for the thrill of seeing you. Something needed to change, and quickly, or Loki was going to blow. On another made up errand, hanging around the executive’s high rise office, Loki was doing a bad job of pretending not to see you. His mind was on your pouty lips as you sipped lemonade through a straw and not on the stately woman seated behind the desk.

“Loki, you’re a man of some… style.” Pepper said it so casually that he almost didn’t hear, his head lost in thoughts that would shame any other person. “I like to think so.”

Shutting her folder with a snap, Pepper smiled, “And you’d love to help your old friend Pepper out, right?” That got his attention, and quickly. Loki, shoving his hands in his pockets, turned to face Pepper with a widening grin, “I feel like I’m being baited.”

“Baited? Never! It’s just, you’re always here and I have a… project that needs the kind of help that you can provide.” At those words you entered the office, ready for action with a notebook and pen, eager and excited. Suddenly, it was all clear to Loki, “Pepper, no.”

The noose closed in on the handsome god as Pepper gathered paperwork without looking his way, “Come on, it’s the Stark Homecoming Gala and the two of you will do great! I have faith in you both. I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” “Really, Miss Potts, I simply can’t-” Stopping short, the strawberry blonde whipped around, almost nose to nose with Loki. Shrewd and straightforward, Pepper interrupted, saying, “You’ve been dancing around my office for weeks now. Clearly you like her and… against all the odds, she likes you too. I’m doing you a favor and when someone does you a favor, you say “Thank You”.” “Thank you.” Nodding curtly, “You’re welcome. Now, make yourselves comfortable, order some dinner, my treat. And do whatever you need to make sure this is one great party!” That’s how Loki found himself sitting at a clear glass table over sweating bottles of iced tea as you discussed color themes and tablecloths. You were shy, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you reviewed notes from previous gatherings both large and small. His hands itched with wanting to do that job himself. “So, what do you think?” It was the first time you had addressed him directly since coming through the door and for a moment Loki couldn’t answer. You were too… not beautiful, that wasn’t the right word, although you were. No, you were too open, too easy to read, and the earnestness you offered him was downright frightening. Sitting forward in the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, office furniture, Loki cleared his throat and again tugged his tie, “What I think is that you should let me take you dinner.” Dropping your eyes, your cheeks colored slightly as your fingers found that locket charm once more, “Loki, I… I don’t know-” Grabbing for your hand, suddenly afraid that you would take those shining eyes away, Loki lowered his voice and did something he never thought he would. He begged. “Please? I find that you’re all I can think about.” It rushed out of him in a torrent, the way truth so often does, and he found himself unable to look you in the eye. Loki was afraid to see rejection on your easy to read face, afraid that wanting you had cracked open the lock box holding his heart, afraid that you would see just how weak you made him. Your fingers twined with his own as you replied, “You didn’t let me finish. I don’t know what took you so long.” Sighing with relief, his face melting into a genuine smile, “Me either.” Over the next two months the pair of you worked tirelessly to plan and execute a perfect party. You were inseparable during the day, heads buried together as you discussed linens and table settings, the quality of cocktail glasses, and debating over a band or a dj. But at night, at night Loki talked about the things that haunted him in the dark. And you loved him in spite of the awful things he had seen and done and said. Others took notice. Loki was more lighthearted, more available. He listened when people spoke and wasn’t constantly doodling during meetings. Yes, Loki was learning how to love through your loving him. If empathy had seemed too humane before, then sharing his life, his love with you, was the kind of immortality that earned someone a place in Valhalla. It was the bravest thing Loki Odinson had ever done and he didn’t mind one bit.

The first time Loki tasted you was burned into his brain, as bright as a flash of lightning. A firefly in a memory jar that he kept returning to, time and again. Loki remembered what you were wearing. He recalled exactly how the light shone in your eyes. If he concentrated, he could tap out the rhythm of your racing pulse as he held you in his arms. It was the night of the gala. Inviting everyone under the Stark Industries banner, up to and including the heroes tasked with saving the world, the event was a way to earn money for one of the many charities Tony supported. The place was full of beautiful people wearing gorgeous clothes under perfect lights set to the hand crafted soundtrack you had created together.

But, Norns, he could still remember the way your eyes sparkled under the lowlights of that hall. How your dress, simple but sophisticated, clung to the fullness of your bottom. Low cut but somehow still modest, Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from the promise of your curves, willing himself to find anything else as interesting as the idea of you.

You were across the room hanging onto Tony’s every word, eyes bright and cheerfully glowing as you sipped champagne. It made Loki want to do something grand, something suave, something that would demand your attention for his own. Moving towards you, his tuxedo perfectly pressed and fitting better than it had any right to, Loki looked long and lean. Each of his steps seemed to echo, even though the room was full of sound, and you turned your head as if you also heard. Breaking away from the cluster of acolytes surrounding Iron Man, you bit into your lip as the crowd parted, moving closer together one step at a time. It was one of the sexiest things Loki had ever witnessed. Lifting your glass in a toast, taking in the room of mingling millionaires, wealthy hangers on and Avengers, “Well, we did it!” “You did it, my dove, I just hung around and judged everyone.” “Oh stop. I couldn’t have done it without you and you know it.” Playfully you pushed against his shoulder and Loki took advantage, using your momentum to pull you to his side, your curvy figure flush against his own. Crooning into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing over that sensitive skin, “Somehow, love, I think you would have managed.” Before you had time to think, Loki had melded his mouth with your own, stealing your breath along with your heart. Loki’s feet moved in time with the music as he pulled into a dance, laughing in his arms, your cheeks hot and your head swimming. You laughing was, without question, Loki’s favorite sound. Nothing in this world or any other came close to matching the joyful, childlike glee of that enchanting noise. Loki memorized its melody, the rise and fall of your giggle. He had craved it, being away for so long, and now he wanted… no, needed to hear it. But you were the furthest thing from happy at the moment.

"Darling, please. We have to go." Loki tapped his watch, shaking himself free from the memories of your previous life together and barely suppressing his irritation.

Tears filled your eyes as you whipped your arms around Thor’s mighty shoulders, his deep voice grumbly with emotion, "Take care of him, would you? He's a jerk, but Loki is the only brother I have."

"Of course… always. And Valkyrie, your highness, I can’t thank you enough for-"

"No need. Loki, and by extension yourself, will always have a safe haven here in my palace."

Looking on, Loki and Thor embraced almost tenderly before crashing their heads together.

"Stay safe, little brother."

"Be good, Thor."

Eyes on the sky, Val ignored the show of masculine emotion, chastising your plan, "You’re going to start a war, Loki."

Straight backed, Loki turned to the king, "Not on the grass of New Asgard. I will take the fight to them, that is my vow to you."

As Loki offered his hand, Valkyrie shook it, with parting words, "Work on staying alive. You have a tendency to worry your brother."

Solemnly nodding, "As the king commands. Shall we?" With that Loki laced his fingers with yours, leading you a few paces away from the people who loved him most, before summoning the magic that had you both transcending space and time.

This time when your feet touched down it was on the familiar turf of the orchard, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and the buzzing of happy bees. Morning had broken and the world seemed full of promise, with the exception of that knot in your stomach.

"Are you ready? Darling?"

"Oh… yes. I mean, I still don't love this plan, but-"

"But it's going to work." Only it was no longer the baritone voice of your long, lean Loki speaking. In his place stood Nick Fury, leather duster and eye patch in place.

"If you say so!" And you clutched your own throat as Natasha’s bored tones came out of your mouth. The suit, skin tight but flexible, molded to your modified form. All in all, you were comfortable, "The boots are a bit much."

"Ya think? This jacket weighs a ton." Pulling at his collar, "Why does he wear a turtleneck anyway?"

"Loki, this is so weird. It feels so weird."

"Agreed, but then, why am I so turned on?"

Laughing, you shook your false red hair, hands resting on Natasha’s waist, "God, I've missed you."

"Same, dearest. Now… let's get your necklace and some answers!"

---

Convincing Bucky to head home had taken a lot of work, but sometime around 2 am Steve had finally seen his friend off. The house was empty. Steve felt the same way.

Turning the black velvet box in his pocket, fingers crushed against the fragile fabric, Steve struggled to feel anger. When that didn't materialize he shot for sadness but even tears seemed beyond his ability.

With a sigh, climbing the same stairs he had trudged up a hundred times before, Steve started going through the motions of bedtime. Only tonight you weren’t there to tease him about the wildly inappropriate amount of toothpaste on his brush. He didn’t have your light footsteps to follow to the bedside or your help with stacking all of your extra, yet entirely essential, pillows on the chair.

Someone must have changed the sheets, he thought. There was no evidence of you and Loki’s adventurous afternoon anymore. Steve made a mental note to thank Buck for that little piece of kindness in the morning.

Shucking his shirt, Steve sat on the mattress, a hand to his forehead. He had lost. Captain America had been bested. Beaten. And by Loki, no less.

Moonlight in silver slivers shone through the window panes, squares of light in the deep of night. Steve was alone. Utterly and totally alone.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

Sighing hard, Steve stood, pacing the floor to work off some of the unspendable anxiety he kept creating. The room still had your energy, your vibe, as you liked to call it, and the feeling was a prickling itch Steve couldn’t quite satisfy. Traces of you were everywhere and something about you leaving all of it, and him, behind was just too big to process. “Damn it.” Even whispering sounded like thunder in the silence of your recently vacated room. His hands, so big, so strong, smoothed along the fabric of your hanging clothes. All that power had done nothing to help Steve get the thing he wanted. Sorting through the baubles and trinkets on your dresser, bottles of perfume he had purchased, necklaces and pins, each with a moment of memory it hurt him to recall. Your watch ticked away the minutes as he stood, stoic and still, surrounded by the shadow of you. In the orchard the birds were waking, their song filling the air, as morning broke in low golden rays. Abandoning his plan for sleep, Steve watched as the light chased away the dark, casting rainbows on the floor. The sun was reflecting off of your Grandmother’s necklace. A pretty, ancient, carved cameo, heart shaped locket. He recalled his own mother owning one just like it, pictures of loved ones pressed inside, holding them as tight as history would allow. Fisting the filigree chain, winding it around his fingers as if it would somehow undo what he had done, Steve slipped it into his pocket before settling back onto the bed. ----

At the back door to the home you so recently shared with Steve, Loki hung back, “I think this is where we split up. You go find your treasure and me… I’m going to find some answers.” Nodding, Natasha’s signature red hair swinging, you squeezed the hand holding your own. It no longer looked like Loki’s long fingered paw, but that was only a skin deep change. You felt the undeniable essence of him in the press of his fingers against your own. “Be careful.” “That’s no fun, dove.” “Loki-” You hated the way your voice broke as you said it, but there just seemed to be so much at stake and you had already lost him once. Sensing your unspoken concerns, Loki flashed you Nick Fury’s best smile, “I will. I promise.”

“Ten minutes.” “Ten minutes.” You watched the black coated back of your charmed paramour as he opened the shed door, hoping that he’d find something worth knowing in that place out of sight. Inhaling deeply you twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible, letting yourself into what was once your kitchen, “What a mess.” It was impossible not to notice the unwrapped leftovers and empty bottles littering the table. An overturned trash barrel, crumpled beer cans littering the counter, things that Steve, your Steve, would never have tolerated. All evidence that the grand evening he’d envisioned had been thwarted by Loki’s arrival and your collective escape.

You started up the stairs, praising Natasha's footwear for its stealth, when you heard the toilet flush and the unmistakable shuffle of Steve’s feet on the carpet. There was no place to hide on the wide stairwell. It was time to see if Loki's plan was going to work.

Voice blurry, eyes rubbed red and raw, you couldn't deny that Steve looked like shit, “Bucky? That you? You back?” Steve’s voice bounced around the brightening room as morning sunlight filtered through the soft sheers you had picked out for exactly this reason. Panicked, you backed into the railing with an over loud “Oof!” “Nat? What are you doing here? I thought you and Fury were headed to New Asgard?” Suddenly wide awake and wondering, Steve rushed to your costumed side, eager for information. The man in front of you now bore little resemblance to the angry Avenger you had escaped from hours before. This man had hair sticking up in odd angles from near constant finger raking. This man had a hint of a stuffy nose and red rimmed eyes, all indicators that tears had been shed. Now those blue eyes were scrutinizing you closely, full of concern.

“Uh… We... We got intel. Yea, intelligence, that Loki was headed back this way. Turned around… and uh, here we are.” One of those sandy blonde eyebrows lifted, “Natasha?”

Squaring your shoulders, channeling that cool confidence you’d see Black Widow display over and over, “Steve?” Something about your tone of voice convinced him in a way your words couldn’t. He visibly relaxed, those broad shoulders going slack as he asked, “Didn’t make it to Norway, then?"

Nodding a negative, you felt the unfamiliar brush of her red hair at your cheek and had to fight the urge to tuck it away, “No. Loki’s using some sort of transporting power to move them around. Fury suggested I keep an eye out here, in case they come back this way.” “She won’t be back, Nat. There’s nothing for her here.” To you, Steve sounded so sad, so removed, that you had to will yourself not to comfort the giant before you. “That’s not true!” It came out of you forcefully, thoughtlessly, and you saw the shock register on the Captain’s face. “That is, Fury and I… we… have reason to believe that she will come back. They left with nothing, Steve. She’ll need clothes… maybe some shoes… and-” Swallowing hard, you didn’t want to give anything away, “-a necklace from her grandmother.” Steve, patting his pocket, felt the weighted chain and it’s heart shaped locket, “I don’t think-” Stepping up to his bulky form, suddenly aggressive, you started, “Never mind what you think, Captain. We're here for a necklace... the necklace. Our intel suggests that your former flame might return for it and… And, I want it, with me, as a means to subdue her when she arrives." Sounding forceful and official was enough to back Steve down. Just a touch deflated, you watched him shrug, “If that’s what you want, Nat, here-” From his pants he pulled out the shining bauble, a trinket really, but full of sentiment and memory. Sitting in his palm, the tiny heart that held the picture of your grandmother and mother looked so small, almost unreal. Reaching for it with wet eyes, you smiled at Steve as you lifted the charm and chain, “Thank you, Steve. Thank you.” Nodding deeply, that golden head bobbing, “You’re welcome.” The large grandfather clock could be heard ticking throughout the house. The sun was gaining on the day and you, dressed as Natasha stood in silence in front of a somber Steve. For another long beat nothing was said, then, as if sensing a shift in your conversation, Steve flashed your fake Natasha a weak smile, “I could use some breakfast. How about you?”

“Um… sure. Yea, ok. Breakfast.”

Steve started moving again, downstairs towards the cluttered kitchen when he paused, "So how did you get back so fast? Cause that's like a 7 hour flight, even with you in the cockpit." “Steve…” You could hear it, the whining almost pleading tone that signaled the end of Loki’s well planned charade. That wasn’t enough to stop Steve. He broke hard, one of those strong arms stopping you in your tracks before you could reach the lower level. “It’s clever, I have to give you guys that. Almost perfect, really.” Panic rising, you doubled down on the ruse, struggling to keep your voice even, “I don’t know-” Blocking you in, his body the perfect unmovable buffer, “Loki’s here too, isn’t he?” Pushing against “Steve, I… I don’t…” “Don’t lie. You don’t have to…” “But… how-?” “You’re not mean enough to play Natasha, doll. Not by a long shot.”

--- It was strange to be seated at the table and chairs that you and Steve had picked out together one sunny Saturday when you thought that your future was going to be Loki-less. Your place, the one that you had imagined filling with children that had golden hair and bright blue eyes, felt like a set. Something false and fake. A facade, put together simply for show. Steve must have felt it too because his fingers drummed against the white washed table incessantly. Clearly he had something on his mind. “Steve-” “No. No. Please, let me just get this out, ok?” Raising an eyebrow, you waved at him to continue, nervous but interested in what the super soldier needed to explain. With a shaky inhale, running his constantly moving fingers through his golden locks, Steve caught your eye and didn’t waiver. “When I saw you… No, that’s not right. Let me start at the beginning. “When Loki left Earth, you… you were so sad. It hurt me to see you so… deflated.” “Steve, I-” “You know it’s true. When he returned to Asgard, something in you, it dimmed, and I just couldn’t allow that… Not when I felt the way I did about you. “I don’t think you realize just how incredible you are… how full of life! And since I had already missed one chance to be with you, I knew I needed to prove that I could be the man you needed… If you forgot about Loki along the way, even better. “Only… you never did. I waited years for you, ya know, doll? Years. And just when I thought there was no chance with you, Nat gave me a reason to hope. “She was your friend. An ally. Someone you could trust… someone I could trust. I swear it started out that innocently, at least for me. I just wanted to make you smile again. But she had other plans. Plans that came from higher up the ladder of SHIELD. “Fury, he wanted us to watch you… something about Loki being too powerful. And-”, grabbing your hand tightly, Steve emphasized his point, “-I promise you that I had no idea about his success, or the messages he had sent to you through Nick. Like you, I thought that Loki was gone. Missing. Never coming back.” “I… I believe you Steve. I know that you didn’t do all this on your own… but what was Nick hoping you’d find out? I knew less than nothing about what was going on!” “I think he was worried that Loki would get to you first. That if… when Loki returned, you would be his first stop. Then you would know about Loki’s success and, frankly, Fury’s failures. You would also know… well, everything you know now. That Fury had you tailed, lied to, and led on in an effort to stop Loki from out flanking him.” Frenzied and frantic, you felt anger boiling up inside of you, “But I thought Loki was gone forever. There was no hope for him and I… and Natasha, she told me that he was dead.” “All a part of Fury’s plan to keep you neutralized and Loki away. If Loki thought that you’d ignored his letters, that you no longer loved him, why would he come back here? And, if that didn’t work… when Loki came back and you were with me, what else could keep him on Earth?”

Whispering with realization, “So, they used you too.” Steve sighed and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, “Don’t feel bad for me. I let them use my love for you, let them twist it up and shape it as they needed. Honestly, I wish I could tell you that it was for you, but it wasn’t. It was for me. I wanted you, so, so badly. I didn’t care what strings were attached. And we built a life together, you and me. I thought I could outrun the reality of the constant monitoring and daily reports. Telling Natasha and Nick about every word and each email. Don’t you see, I love you… and I wanted you, however I could get you.” Shaking your head, Natasha’s red wisps flying, “That’s not love, Steve. I don’t know what that is… but love isn’t it.” “No?” With a loud thunk, Steve slammed a small velvet box on the table between you. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

“Last night. It was going to happen last night. Our friends here, under the lights and the stars, I was going to ask you to marry me. I still would if-” Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “If Loki hadn’t stepped back into our lives.” “-If Loki hadn’t stepped back into your life.” It made you both laugh in a sad way, how you finished the same thought, and for a fleeting second you could see why you had allowed Captain America to sweep you off your feet. He was a lot of things to you now, but there was a time when he had been almost everything. The evidence of that was in the small black square that said nothing but spoke volumes. “Steve, I don’t know if I would have said yes… even without Loki’s… arrival. I think I have always known that you and I… we are very different people.” Sitting back in his chair, his gaze still locked on your own, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what I’ve done… what I’ve said… How, shit, how I’ve behaved. I could say that it was my duty. I could tell you it was out of love, but the plain truth is that I have always been jealous of what you and Loki share.” “You’ll find it Steve. You really will. There’s a person out there waiting for you. And once you’ve found them, oh Steve, you’ll see that this… what we had, it’s a shadow. An illusion. Because love, real love, doesn’t come with caveats and catches. It is an undeniable force which, in my case, even the boundaries of time and space can not deny.” Something like a sob burst out of Steve, and you were surprised to see tears in his eyes, “I was so wrong. Could you ever forgive me?” “I want to, Steve. I really do... “ What more could you say? Patting his hand you started to rise, “I have to go now. Loki and I need to keep moving and I don’t want to risk running into Nick and Natasha. At least, not yet, anyway.” “Where are you planning to go?” “To the Avenger’s Tower. I believe I know what Mr. Fury has been planning all along.” Loki’s strong voice entered the conversation as smoothly as his arms wrapped possessively around your waist. Steve took in the protective stance of your returned lover with a raised eyebrow, and without further comment asked Loki, “Really? And how are you going to breach the building? They’ll be looking for you, even with disguises… Fury is no fool. Plus, there’s little chance that Tony hasn’t activated a million safety and security protocols by now.” Only interested in you, Loki refused to give Steve any of his attention, “Getting in can’t be that hard! I’ll figure it out when I get there. Ready pet?” With a gentle push under his broad hands your feet started to move towards the door. Loki was eager to be off and away, especially after hearing so much of Roger’s confession. Just knowing what Steve had done, manipulating you while also convinced of his love for you; it was enough for Loki to commit murder. He was having quite a difficult time not tearing the good Captain’s limbs off his body. Softening his tone, Steve practically pleaded, “Loki. Wait. I… I can help.” Turning his attention fully to your former flame, Loki purred venomously, “You can help? I’d love to know what entails, Captain.” “I can get you into the place and take you exactly where you need to go. Fury’s going to hate it, but I’m tired of taking orders that hurt the people that-” His pause was as lingering as the look he gave you, “- That I love.” Before Loki could offer a sincerely sassy reply you grabbed his sleeve, tugging, “Um… Excuse us a minute Steve.” Pulling him down the hall of a home that felt like a familiar faced stranger, you waited until you had a bit of distance from Steve before harshly whispering, “How long were you listening?”

Serving you that small, sexy smile, Loki grinned, “Long enough. How did you know I was there?” “You are sneaky, but even you, God of Mischief, cast a shadow.” Swinging you close enough to catch your mouth with his own, Loki pressed a sweet kiss there before answering, “A mistake I will be careful not to make again!” “The tower, huh? That’s where you want to go?” Grabbing you at the swell of your hips, grinding his frame against your own, “Where I want to go, my darling, is to the nearest bed, preferably naked, with you and you alone.” Your hands traced over the lapels of his borrowed leather duster, pausing only to jerk him closer by the supple fabric, “Hmm… is that so?” “Oh yes…” Loki’s buttery grumble filled your ear as his strong hands dug into the flesh of your bottom. For a moment you thought he’d give in to temptation, his sweet lips teasingly close to your own upturned mouth, “But-” On your toes, leaning into Loki’s sturdy, leather draped frame, you paused, “Ugh. But?” Moving you to a safer, less kissable, arms length away, Loki sighed with the same frustration you felt, “-But, where we need to go, as soon as possible, is the Tower.” Moaning grumpily, you stepped out of the arms you longed to linger in, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “I know it’s less than… ideal, love, but I did find something useful before the good Captain unburdened his soul this morning.” “And that is?” “Fury’s plan. At first I couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after. What did Fury want? How was I involved?” Loki was dragging this out, loving how it kept you hanging onto his every word, and you rolled your eyes, “Well? What is it? Weapons? War?” “All of that, yes… and… yours truly.” That triumphant smile that filled Loki’s whole face lit up his mischievous eyes. Tilting your head, struggling to make sense of what Loki had just told you, “What do you mean, you. Fury wanted you… to do what, exactly?’ “Loki was going to be the patsy.” You both turned toward the sound of Steve’s baritone at the door, suddenly remembering that the Good Captain was still there and that he was waiting to see what you were going to do next. Leaning his 100 year old bones into the doorframe, Steve crossed his arms, “The fall guy. An example of what happens if you cross SHIELD.” “I think, my dear Mr. Rogers, that you mean, I am to be used as an example of what happens if one crosses Nick Fury.” Loki countered, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively. The idea was frightening. A man like Fury had too much power, too much at his disposal. Just knowing the lengths he had gone to in order to keep you and Loki apart was scary enough. Making enemies of your friends. Threatening the people you loved. Selling your affection to Steve in an effort to control Loki.

Now, the knowledge that all of it was done in an effort to ensure that Nick Fury was the toughest guy in the galaxy, it made your stomach clench. “What do you mean, an example?” “Unless my intelligence is flawed, I believe that Fury was going to kill me. Is that correct, Captain?” Steve felt the weight of two sets of eyes on him. Yours, full of fearful love and blind hope that this was all just some misunderstanding. Innocent and naive and as lovely as he could ever remember. Loki’s were reflecting a deeper understanding. The kind of knowledge that only time in the trenches teaches. There was no answer from Captain Rogers. None was needed. Honesty, final and resolute, was out in the open. “Look. I know I’m not the guy you want on your side. I’ve… I haven’t been the man I needed to be. Not for you-” Steve locked his bright blues onto you, offering a small smile that spoke of sadness before facing Loki, “-Or you, Loki. But if you let me help you now, I promise that I can get you into the tower and maybe, one day, you won’t think so little of me.”

Around you the morning gained strength. Somewhere nearby birds chirped wildly, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the modest little farmhouse and its implications on intergalactic politics. Without moving a muscle, Loki plainly asked you, “Do you trust him, dearest?” Squaring your shoulders, you crossed your arms, staring down the man called Captain America. Nodding decisively, “I do. I don’t think he’d spill everything like that only to turn on us. He’s not so bad Loki, really.” “We’ll see about that. For now, we trust Steve. Ok, what’s your plan, Rogers?” --- “Hey. I… I have one other thing to show you.” Steve was dressed for action in his branded tactical gear, looking every inch the super soldier that Dr. Erskine envisioned. “Steve, we have to get moving. Loki’s eager and -” “Just open it, ok?” The envelope was thick with folded paper, the flap tucked under and not sealed. Clearly it had spent time in and out of pockets, the edges frayed and tattered. In exasperated curiosity you gingerly pulled the sheets free.

Shaking, your hands trembled holding the once white documents as your voice thickened, “Is this… is this what I think it is?” Cocking his head playfully, that rueful smile pulling at his full mouth, Steve almost seemed cheerful as he teased, “It’s yours. I think something about this place has always been yours and I want you to have it.” “But-” Folding your small hands in his mighty ones, Steve squeezed gently, “It was a wedding present, or it was supposed to be.” “But we’re not getting married.” “I know. Still-” “I can’t, Steve. It’s yours. Your house, your farm, your dream.” Shaking his head, disagreeing, but feeling lighter than he had in decades, Steve insisted, “Too late, I’m afraid. It’s done. Actually, that version of the deed has been signed since our second week here.” As realization sunk in you appraised the man changing right before your eyes, astonished but exhilarated, “Where will you go?” “I dunno. Think I might need to be alone for a bit. Maybe see the world… but first-” “First, we have to stop Nick Fury.”

To Be Continued... My Minxes: @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote

#loki x reader #loki x you #you x loki #loki smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #mcu smut #MCU fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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amphxtrite · 3 years

Text

fred weasley x fem!reader

This is for @feetoffthetable ‘s 500 follower writing challenge. Congratulations again on 500!!

hope you like it.

prompts:

“What happened to their happily ever after?”

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

warnings: angst, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

word count: 3.1k

tag list: @cupidpoison @marvelhoesworld @wonderful-writer

enjoy<3

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Almost every girl can remember the days where they’d dream of their fairytale romance. Dancing, a prince charming and a kiss in the moonlight as every problem faded away; A thrilling fight between the lovers and the evil villain ending with the two wrapped in each other’s arms. Despite being muggle tales, the wizarding world had also grown to adore these stories, smiles widening on even grown witches' faces with each ‘once upon a time.’

You’d grown up reading about maidens being swept off their feet into the arms of their knight in shining armor, fate seemed to encompass every story you laid your eyes on, so when Fred Weasley entered your life, with a charming smile and a playfulness that had you wanting more, you couldn’t help but fall.

And so began the pining. Stares across the classroom at the wave of red hair, crossing your fingers when group projects were announced, peeking down corridors to see if you could catch the prankster twins in action, and daydreaming from dawn till dusk. You could barely get words past your lips if he ever smiled in your direction. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to run your hand through his hair. Doodling his name on parchment became common, and dreams of dancing with him plagued your mind. You were young, and in love. You could almost feel your fairy godmother pushing you towards him, fairy tale magic coursing through your veins whenever your eyes would meet.

It took a couple years, but you found your voice. Starting small with congratulations after quidditch games, an occasional joke during classes, a couple more smiles here and there.

The unrequited love, became returned. Fred Weasley thought you were just the shy girl from his transfiguration class, quiet and meek. When you built up the confidence to strike up conversations and joke about Snape’s hair, he found himself hanging onto your every word.

The older twin went from not knowing your name to looking forward to even his most boring classes just to catch a glimpse of your face. Making you smile became his mission, and Godric did he love it when your face would completely light up. Not just a small smirk, but when your eyes sparkle, your lips pull up far enough to see your teeth and your cheeks go a bit pink, that was most definitely his favourite sight.

Even the most enchanting storybook couples would stare amazed at the adoration Fred Weasley and Y/n L/n shared for each other. Two best friends pining for the other without realizing the mutual warmth that had grown. Spending countless hours together, hiding their flushed cheeks, sweaty palms and loving eyes to enjoy every moment spent together.

When the Yule ball was announced Fred had fallen flat on his face running up to ask you. He’d spotted you in the clock tower courtyard with one of your friends and he knew immediately, you were the only person he’d want to go with. He sprinted up to you intending to drop to his knee and ask, but his foot got caught in the stone and he fell for you the second time. Now any other person may have lost hope and ran away, but Fred Weasley was determined to make the most of it, rebounding it with a cheesy pick up line, In true Fred fashion.

Cinderella would’ve glared in jealousy when the two of you waltzed across the dance floor. Not only was the night magical, but it was awkward, nervous, and fun. It didn’t seem like the far fetched dance at the end of a film, it felt real. You’d step on his toes and he’d shuffle his hand around your waist, but when it came down to it, you didn’t care. You really did feel like a princess dancing in the arms of her lover, swaying to the beautiful music as other students starred in awe at the two gryffindors gliding around the room, laughing happily while moving their feet in a mesmerizing waltz.

That night Fred Weasley finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he got down on his knee in the middle of the dance floor, pouring his heart out to you, his confession wiping even the soliloquies of Romeo Montague out of the water.

“Y/n, from the moment you started to talk to me in our third year, I fell. You make me smile, laugh, blush and always know how to cheer me up. Honestly, why didn’t you start talking to me sooner? I never knew how much I needed you, but my eyes have been cleared, my feelings in tune and now I’m asking you on the dance floor to maybe take this foolish man to be your prince?”

Droplets emerged from your eyes as you shook your head up and down, happy tears flowing free as you pulled the red-head up again.

The entire student body had paused to take in the scene before them, watching in surprise as Fred Weasley stood to his feet to dip the girl with tear stained cheeks into a low kiss, only standing again to catch his breath before stealing you away out the door.

You’d give anything to go back to that night. The seed of young adoration finally blossoming into a flower of love. Love so true, beautiful and pure you’d probably blind anyone who saw. You ran through the halls to Black Lake, dancing to the beats of your hearts in the embrace of your love, swaying in the moonlight as puzzle pieces of your life finally seemed to fall into place and stars aligned.

Holding your love in your arms is a feeling so surreal and fantastic, something that has an addicting property that you couldn’t help but crave. When Fred’s arms surrounded you, you didn’t feel trapped, enclosed, barricaded. You felt free, as though you could fly.

It is hard to define love, but what was between the redhead prankster and gryffindor dreamer painted a clear picture for anyone to see. Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred grew more in love with you with each passing day and his desire to see the smile upon your face never faded.

Your love for your prince charming was something that would never be taken away from you. Everyday took your breath away and every time Fred smiled at you, your brain seemed to turn to mush, the childhood pining never seemed to leave.

Your last year at Hogwarts brought about some problems, with the monstrous pink toad and Fred’s tendencies for trouble, you could say difficulties were inevitable. Nights where Fred snuck into your dorm broken down, tired, and ready to collapse became frequent, especially after he was banned from the quidditch team. Fred was hesitant to reveal his sensitivity, but with cuts across his hands and the loss of his favourite activity, he was willing to lose it all just to rest in your arms again. Many nights he’d run to you, exhausted and restless. You’d hold him close, soothe him the best you could and heal his wounds to the best of your abilities. You didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t need to talk. Fred was content laying on your chest as you fussed over him, pressing kisses across his freckled face and mumbling rather choice words under your breath about the pink devil as you gently caressed his injured hand as light as a butterfly.

You were the first person he’d told his scheme to leave Hogwarts to, begging you to go with him and start a new life in a place he’d dreamt of since he was a child. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to agree, but how could you not? It’s not like you had much planned. Anyways, you were tired of the pain Fred had to endure during the past year, so if he was ready to leave, so were you.

You’d compare flying a broom into the sky as fireworks flashed behind you, to riding into the sunset on the back of a stallion, but yours was so much cooler. Fred had grabbed you from the floor and pulled you onto his broom, you clutched onto him for dear life as he and George flew their last victory lap and destroyed every last horrid plaque of rules that hung on the walls of the school of magic. Another feeling of freedom was evident throughout the entire building as victorious cheers sound from every window.

This was definitely better than a ride into the sunset.

Life with the twins in Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes couldn’t be defined by just one word. It was exciting, chaotic and the most fun you’ve had in your life. Designing product boxes and using charms was more of your strong suit while the boys caused explosion after explosion, perfecting their concoctions. As weeks turned into months, you and Fred felt as though you were really living a couple’s life. Waking up wrapped in each other’s arm without the worry of being caught, making and eating breakfast to tunes on the radio, dancing to a record player as day bled into night and your feet finally got sore.

This is how fairy tale characters must feel after their story ends, you’d think every day, happy and so deeply in love, relishing every moment together and at peace.

You’d finally been introduced to Mrs. Weasley that coming Christmas, her tender love really made you feel welcome and almost moved you to tears.

“It’s nice to see Freddie finally found someone who loves him as much as you do, I can see it in your eyes darling, you’re perfect for him.”

Fred never understood why they said ‘fall’ in love, sure you may feel your senses fade at times but it was never like a fall. If it made sense he’d say he rose into love for you. You brought him to cloud nine, you raised his spirits whenever you joked with him when he was down. You raised the corners of his lips into a smile by just existing. You raised him further towards his dreams and supported him no matter what. Ironically, he dropped to his knee to propose to you, just like he had in your sixth year at the Yule Ball, once again pouring his heart out to you, this time to truly make you his.

“Here we are again, love.” He laughed as he fell to his knee behind you in a muggle park not too far from Diagon Alley.

“Darling, I love you. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You push me towards my dreams, comfort me when I’m upset, and make me smile every single day. I realized how much I needed you back in our sixth year, but today I ask you to seal the deal and become, y/n Weasley?”

It is hard to define love, so many forms of it, so many ways to express it and spread it to the people around you, but when Fred Weasley proposed to you, people looked over and felt the unconditional love between two people that brought tears to their eyes. When Fred Weasley looked at you, you were his everything. His past, present and future, his calm during a storm, his brightest star.

When Y/n said yes, you could hear the love of the purest of heart. The love of a best friend and a partner.

Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred could now ensure a smile on your face for the rest of your days, and the childhood pining could finally rest knowing you would be with this man forever.

When the war finally pulled the wizarding world into the dark, the prankster and the dreamer knew they wouldn’t be able to stand to the side. They needed to help bring back the peace, and they would fight beside the people they cared about. The wedding was postponed until further notice, but it was sworn on a pinky promise that as soon as the chaos was over, you’d pick up where you left off and walk down the aisle in your white dress.

As you stood on the Hogwarts school ground, death eaters on every side and Voldemort cackling maniacally, you reached out for your prince’s hand. Closing your eyes to regain your calm before you had to charge into the incoming fight. Fred had squeezed your hand before pressing his lips to yours in the most passionate kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Looking back, you should’ve held Fred there with you, by your side throughout the entire fight. You should have kept your hands interlocked, standing tall by each other’s side, an unbreakable force to be reckoned with.

Instead the two of you charged forward separated, fighting close, but by your friends’ sides, throwing spell after spell to inch closer to a brighter future. Pain didn’t matter, each wave of your wand could be a step closer to a happy tomorrow.

It was almost thrilling fighting by your classmate, protecting them brought a new sense of purpose to your being and drowned out everything else to focus on the task at hand. Things were turning your way, Neville slayed that dreaded snake, Harry returned, Voldemort would never win now right? Everything would turn out fine. Right?

How wrong you were.

Victory was within reach, death eaters were filtering into smaller numbers and your friends were still alive. Your head was swivelling for your love, the only thought on your mind being to find your prince, your knight, the love of your life. The flash of red hair was just ahead, the light at the end of the tunnel was right there. You called out his name and his head whipped to meet yours. Your eyes met and you could see your future, your wedding, a family, growing old with this man.

Then the rubble fell, and in a flash, everything was taken away from you.

It is hard to define love, but when witches and wizards heard the shrill cry of a heart being torn in half, they could feel the love y/n l/n held for Fred Weasley. The pure, unconditional love that would’ve withstanded the test of time and any problem life could throw her way. The love that had so much hope many people turned away, it was too much to bear. The love that had you digging even though your hands were scabbed and bleeding.

Now when you ask how Fred Weasley showed his love in this scenario, the only thing to say was he died with a smile on his face. He died knowing his last sight was the love of his life running towards him, ready to turn to the next chapter of their lives.

You dug through the rock frantically, grasping onto the hope that for some divine reason Fred could be alive.

This isn’t how the story is supposed to end, your prince was supposed to wrap you into your arms and every problem was supposed to melt away, you were supposed to marry, kiss in front of all your family and friends and live the rest of your days together.

Realization hit you like a speeding train, you were never going to walk down the aisle to see Fred’s reaction to you in a white dress, you were never going to hold your child in your arms and see Fred become the amazing father you knew he would become. You were never going to see him grey and old, still a prankster and still deeply in love. You were never going to feel his lips against yours ever again. Hear his whispers in your ear about how much he loved you, or his melodic laugh that brought butterflies to your stomach every time.

Turns out, the villain of your story wasn’t unrequited love, it wasn’t Umbridge or even Voldemort. It was something even more cruel and insufferable. Death is not something humans really understand, even the most powerful witches and wizards cannot deny that death will come upon you, it is inevitable. There is so much about death we do not understand. All we know is one minute they’re here, the next they’re gone. But you might say, this is a fairy tale, there’s bound to be a happy solution and our lovers will get their happy ending. No, this is reality and our lovers were not that lucky, and the loss of half a heart is not something to be taken lightly.

“No.”

When Fred’s body was retrieved, you were joined by the rest of the Weasley family in their grieving, and while you could never understand what it would be like to lose a brother and a son, you’d lost the man you were going to spend the rest of your days with, and that left a hole in your heart never to be repaired, never to heal.

To lose a lover, but to hold their lifeless body in your arms is a surreal feeling you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, it’s something that has the power to break even the strongest people and make the most positive lose hope. Every ounce of love in your being spilt through tears that held every wish and hope you’ve ever had. That day you lost your feeling of freedom, and a sick sense of being trapped plagued your every move.

This isn’t how the story was supposed to end.

“What happened to their ‘happily ever after?” A young girl asks her father.

“Well young y/n, as you may know you were named after the very girl who fell in love with my brother and lost everything. Some say she died of a broken heart, others say Freddie came back and took her away to paradise.” An older George Weasley smiles down at his young daughter, snuggled in blankets, clutching a picture frame in her small hands.

“But why couldn’t uncle Fred come back? I thought every fairy tale ends with a happily ever after, those were aunt y/n’s favourite stories right?” Young y/n’s brown eyes flash in confusion and hurt as she lowers the photo of you to her lap.

“Yes, they were her favourite. There was no doubt her and Fred had a love greater than any fairy tale, but not all love stories get a ‘happily ever after.’ Sometimes it’s just a ‘once upon a time.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #angst #weasley family #once upon a time #fairy tales #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #writing challenge

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lochnessghost · 3 years

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dream smp warrior cats au

i’m stupid and dumb and for some reason folks liked my last post abt the wc au so here is my interpretation of season 1 of the dream smp as warrior cats baby!!! SO pretty much the au is that everybody was a part of one big clan (no name yet so ill just call it the smpclan,, i want to do a more realistic name but my brain hurts) that’s led by dream aka swiftstar along with his deputy sapnap aka darkflame and the medicine cat mosseyes (george). eventually a warrior called sootfur (will) and his apprentice bigpaw (tommy) decide they’ve had enough after swift and dark become more tyrannical and break off to start their own clan, manclan (this is a canon name for it, bigpaw suggested it as a joke and they ran with it) and sootfur becomes sootstar. he gives bigpaw his warrior name, bigclaw, and names him his deputy. bigclaw needed an apprentice before he could become deputy to be officially recognized, so sootstar used a loophole where bigclaw’s best friend sparrowpaw (tubbo) was made his apprentice a couple of minutes before sootstar made him a warrior too—sparrownose. the three, along with sootstar’s half-kittypet son foxfoot (fundy) and their friend brambleflower (eret) started manclan and defended it for a couple of moons. the declaration of independAnce is all of them putting their clawmarks in the great tree (l’mantree). you know the rest of the story bla bla bla the discs are two gems bigclaw found as an apprentice in a twoleg trash bin. sootstar steps down as leader, as he never truly got nine lives and everyone demanded they find out who starclan truly chooses as manclan’s leader, and starclan chooses an smpclan cat called rambelly (jschlatt). he becomes ramstar with duckstep (quackity) as his deputy. he makes bigclaw and sparrownose apprentices again, saying sootstar’s ceremonies were invalid because they were not backed by starclan, and then exiles bigpaw and sootfur from manclan. sootfur and bigpaw go off and live in a cave they find. their little group has no name besides ‘the exiled’. they meet a rogue called boar (technoblade) who helps them navigate the lands outside of the clans. soot rejects the clans completely, dropping his suffix and swearing revenge on manclan. despite soot’s protests, bigpaw keeps his warrior name and begs soot to at least attempt to mentor him and help continue his warrior training until he’s ready to become a real warrior (they both admit his training still wasn’t complete when soot made him a warrior/deputy) when they return (he believes they’ll return one day, soot doesn’t). soot begrudgingly agrees, but his training is less warrior training and more dangerous, intensive militant training. meanwhile, sparrowpaw is mentored directly by ramstar, mostly so ram could keep an eye on someone who was so close to the exiled, bigpaw in particular. after a few more moons of training, sparrow regains his warrior name, now sparrowpelt. he keeps the exiled up to date on what’s going on in manclan. bigpaw gets a little jealous when he finds out about sparrowpelt’s warrior ceremony, but doesn’t act on it. ramstar eventually plans a big feast for the clan to ensure loyalty, which sparrowpelt helps plan. he informs the exiled of this.

soot confesses to bigpaw that he was born a loner and that boar is his brother. he uses his rogue ties and help from his brother to plan to sabotage the clan’s feast. their plan is simple: they use sticks to take fire from a twoleg campsite and catch manclan’s territory on fire. surprisingly, swiftstar, who has become more of a rogue after allowing manclan to take up the spotlight, offers his help in this. the plot goes as normal, with the plan to usurp ramstar after he becomes incredibly insufficient as leader, and boar offers everyone tooth-clad collars as extra protection from their necks getting bitten (the vault scene). soot gives bigpaw his warrior name despite no longer being a leader, and everyone backs it, saying even without a leader, he’s earned it. he is once again bigclaw. the fight goes on regularly. ramstar had actually used up all but one of his nine lives doing various reckless activities, further proving his lack of respect for starclan, having only used them for his personal gain, and dies after choking on some of the prey he’d been hoarding for himself. no one helps clear his airway and he dies.

sparrowpelt is made leader of manclan and makes bigclaw his deputy. the cats rejoice, but meanwhile, soot fetches fire from the twolegs with swiftstar’s help. he sets the woods on fire and is then confronted by his loner father, a yellow cat named crow (philza) who came to see what his sons were doing in the clans’ territory. crow kills soot after he begs him to. the woods catch fire very quickly and boar leads them to safety by the edge of twolegplace. however, he makes his big speech and reveals that this was a trap and breaks the lock on a fence, releasing three massive dogs into the burning woods. more story, the cats eventually deter the dogs, bla bla bla. this is all i’m going to write for this post because JESUS CHRIST i did not realize how long this would be, but if you’re interested in hearing the later arcs’ warrior au type deal lmk! idek if this makes sense but you know. i might post some more art of this au as well,, you can check some warrior designs i did for michael and revived!tommy here, and the designs i did for the dreamteam and apprentice bigpaw here! here are some misc doodles as well! part 2 has been posted!

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cherrehx · 3 years

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okay so its 2am right now and I just thought of something really cute hhhh, so basically, how would kaminari, kirishima, todoroki and bakugou react to finding ship art or something of them and their crush?? I love your writing btw, it's so awesome 💕💕

super long wait, i know. half of this was written when bnha was still my hyperfixation, hence why it's one shots. the headcanons were written now, because i felt bad leaving out denki and eijirou. -cherry

katsuki bakugō:

it was just after nine in the afternoon. katsuki had already gone to sleep as per usual, though tonight he was rudely interrupted by loud knocking on his room's door.

"the hell do you want, loser?!", he shouted, still unsure of who was even at his door. everyone knew by now not to disturb him, so who dared to do so anyways?

getting out of bed and proceeding to open the door, the ash blond was slightly less angered when he saw eijirou standing there. said red head looked frantic because of something. bakugou honestly didn't even want to know what had got him so distraught, but he knew he wouldn't get his well deserved sleep otherwise,

"spit it out, shitty hair."

"we were looking at pictures from the sports festival online and we found something that you should maybe see for yourself!", eijirou started, realizing that he wasn't getting his friend's attention, so he added, "it's about you and (y/n)!"

kirishima was the only one that knew about bakugou's secret crush on you. that's why he wasn't laughing like everyone else in the common room; because what they found may cause complications.

after kirishima had mentioned your name, bakugou was swiftly jogging towards where almost all of his class was sitting gathered around a laptop, which seemed to be mina's, judging by all the leopardy and pink stickers on it.

"out of the way extras!", katsuki stomped over to see what all the fuss was about. from the corner of his eye he saw how you were cowering next to one of the couches, face covered by your hands. at first he couldn't understand why, but when he saw a particular piece of artwork displayed on the laptop screen, he figured you were just majorly embarrassed.

the art that his class found on google was from somebody's blog that was all about the 'heroes of the future!'. needless to say, the blog didn't only deal with the heroes, but also the relationships of them. ever since an encounter at the sports festival that a lot of people saw and shared around, you and bakugou had become a popular so called ship. (the girls explained that 'ship' didn't mean anything related to boats when they teased you about mentioned moment in front of him.)

katsuki couldn't help but feel embarrassed himself, but he also had to keep his cool to not seem suspicious. looking at the drawing of you and him one more time, the ash blond walked over to you, ignoring anything his class was saying.

"(y/n), you ok?", he crouched down to your level, poking your head once. his only response was a quiet hum, followed by a hiccup. worried, katsuki grabbed your hand tightly and pulled you outside the dorm.

the air was nice, not too hot, nor too cold. a light wind was blowing as the moon shone brightly.

bakugou gave you a little space and some time to calm down. when you did, he was quick to ask,

"what's the matter? did you get THAT embarrassed by it?"

you shook your head no. it was something more, but was this the right time to tell him?

"i was really embarrassed at first.", you started, "but then i thought about something and cried."

"about what?", the usually loud boy asked softly. silence was all he got for a good minute until you finally responded,

"you know how they say 'life imitates art'? i really wish it w-was like that..."

now you were the one getting silence as a response. did you really just say that?

"idiot, being all cryptic and shit.", katsuki tried to stay calm, even if he was freaking out on the inside, "if you want a kiss you can have it."

shōto todoroki:

mr. aizawa's classes had a pretty strict schedule most of the time: first the class would get an assignment, that they'd do until said teacher falls asleep. after that, everyone would quietly - in order to not wake up aizawa - do anything they want, really.

for shouto this was more or less just plainly boring, as he was one of the few students that actually did what they had to. he'd finish his work and then wait, because he had nothing else to do. he was most likely to bother midoriya, but today he was very into whatever he was writing down in his little book. so shouto settled for observing the classmates behaviour. well, rather your behaviour.

the half and half boy knew it was weird, but he liked watching you. he liked seeing you, especially when you were happy and smiling. todoroki knew what these 'symptoms' were, but he wanted everything to stay as it was for now.

why he had caught those feelings, he didn't know. he figured it was the way you stood out. you didn't get lost in between the others and he liked that.

while todoroki was deep in thought, ashido had walked over to your desk, where you were doing the assignment in peace and quiet,

"(y/n), look! the other's and i thought about how todoroki always stares at you so intensely, so we created these shipnames! which one do you like better?"

you looked at the paper or rather the newly created words and little pictures drawn by some of your classmates and immediately turned red. flailing your hands around a little, you lied,

"none of these, i don't...like todoroki in that way."

mina looked a tad upset at that, but she understood, nodded and walked back to her table. you sort of felt bad, having killed her excitement, but you didn't need anyone knowing about your secret crush on the stoic one.

speaking of the stoic one, he couldn't hear anything you and mina had talked about. he only saw her walking over, showing you something and you freaking out and sending her away. needless to say, he was curious what had caught you off guard so much. when shouto saw mina throwing away that suspicious piece of paper, he decided to look at it when class ended. even if he thought sticking his hand in the trash was a little gross.

the end of class came sooner than expected. shouto was packing his bag slower than usual, waiting until everyone had left. after they did, he skipped over to the trash can, pulling out the latest addition: a piece of paper that embarrassed (y/n)!

he stuffed it in his bag and carried on walking to his dorm room, where he finally felt safe looking at it, " 'ship names'? why would they want to name a boat after (y/n) and i?", he asked himself, before a certain doodle on the page explained your reaction and the girls' name-mixing. even shouto couldn't help but react in some way, thinking about said doodle happening in real life. that's when he got startled by a knock on his door.

"hey, todoroki. i know you always do your work in class, so i thought i'd come and ask you about...", you drifted off, seeing the light blush on his cheeks and his fire side burning, "...umm, am i interrupting something?"

he was hiding a piece of paper behind his back. you could see just the corner of it, but that was enough for you to identify what paper it was.

"didn't take you for the nosey type.", you akwardly laughed in order to drown out your embarrassment.

"sorry, i got curious.", he looked unusually upset, averting his heterochromatic eyes and letting his arms drop on his sides. you confirmed the paper was indeed the one that mina showed you earlier.

"did you dislike it a lot?", shouto asked without thinking.

now it was your turn to blush.

denki kaminari:

-ok hear me out

-his love language has to be physical touch

-so naturally, when you guys and the rest of the bakusquad had a sleepover, you cuddled

-platonically of course (even though both of you had feelings for one another, but shh)

-oh, but mina couldn't let this one slip

-she HAD to take a picture

-in the morning, when you were still only half awake, mina ecstatically showed her phone into your face

-"LOOK, (Y/N), YOU GUYS ARE THE CUTEST!"

-queue embarrassed (y/n) and denki

eijirō kirishima:

-i feel like with him, you had been like childhood friends

-and back in the day, you guys were all like

-"i'm gonna marry you when i'm older!"

-so you engraved a little "eijirō & (y/n)" into a tree

-years and years later you guys go back to that spot

-just because you wanted to reminisce the good old days

-you guys find the carvings

-"you know, (y/n), i still haven't changed my mind."

-"what do you mean, eijirou?"

-"i'd still marry you."

#headcanons #eijirou kirishima x reader #one shots #katsuki bakugou x reader #denki kaminari x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #x reader #shōto todoroki #eijirō kirishima #katsuki bakugō #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #fanfiction

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corvus--rex · 3 years

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Semi-abandoned soulmate au. I actually started this one before The Sound of Color, although this is vastly different from that one. This particular au also doesn't have the requirement that soulmates are always romantic (ie Pidge and their soulmate). It jumps around a little, and those sections are marked with dividers. Soulmate strangers-to-lovers. . .

~*~*~*~

Soulmarks. Everyone had one. An indelible mark that bound two people together. Age 13 was when it would start. The mark “waking up” as some called it, and reaching out for its companion mark. Most soulmates were within a few years of each other, so the lingering tingle of a mark searching for its mate usually didn’t last long.

Lance was lucky that way. His mark sprang to life on his thirteenth birthday and quieted three months later. There was no way to know who or where his soulmate was at that point, but he knew they were three months younger than him. He had been getting ready for school that day when the constant tingle in his mark faded.

He’d always liked the quarter note-shaped mark on the inside of his left wrist. What confused him were the numbers that circled it. No two marks were the same, and Lance knew that his soulmate would have something different. But those numbers confused him. 1030211933. Trying to figure it out was a favorite pastime throughout middle and high school, but he never could get there. He hadn’t met his soulmate yet, but he hoped that it would make sense when he did.

Once two marks found each other, the secondary connection opened. The marks on the soul allowed for marks on the body. Words, doodles, full-blown artwork. Drawing or writing on skin would appear on a connected soulmate. Once Lance’s mark had connected, the first thing he did was ask his soulmate about the numbers. They didn’t know either. But he did find out that his soulmate’s mark sat on their right hip, it was a feather, and they didn’t have those numbers but they did have a series of roman numerals along the feather’s shaft that read:

X X X X X X I X I X X X X I I I

They continued to talk for years, learning about each other. They had decided not to share identifying information like names or location, but Lance knew that his soulmate had a twin and that their parents had adopted their cousin when their cousin’s parents died in an accident. They didn’t know anything about the accident because they’d been too young at the time and no one had explained it since. Lance told them that he had three siblings, that he was a twin, too, and that his older sister connected with her soulmate the same day he had.

He lay in his bed in the dorm he shared with his best friend Hunk, rereading the last message his soulmate had sent him about how college sucked and how they already had an in-class performance a month into the semester. He’d responded with a note about how trying to balance classes with rehearsals as the lead in his school’s fall musical was kicking his ass. Lance already knew that his soulmate was studying music at a college close to where they grew up. And they knew that he was majoring in theatre at a college a three-hour drive from home.

Hunk trudged into their dorm room and threw himself onto his bed. “Remind me again why I decided this was a good idea?” he groaned.

“Which part?” Lance asked in return.

“The part where I decided to be a pastry chef and subject myself to the hell that is the one professor I can’t get away from?”

“Because you love baking and always have and one asshole can’t make you hate doing what you love.”

“I swear she just likes to terrorize us. There’s that guy I told you about – Sal, the one I had a class with freshman year and he transferred to general culinary and now he’s back – she hates him. And I don’t know why. But then, she hates me, too. Pretty sure it’s that bun. It’s so tight she doesn’t need a face lift. But I’m also convinced that Chef Dayak is just evil.”

“Hey, at least you have Shay there with you. Not everyone gets to have their soulmate in class with them all day,” Lance pointed out.

“How’s it with yours?” Hunk asked.

“We’re working our way up to talking about meeting. I know I wanted to wait until after graduation, but I’m getting impatient, y’know? It’s been eight years and I don’t want to wait anymore. But I get that they do. So…yeah. Anyway,” he said, shaking himself out of that particular spiral, “You going to the Halloween party this year?”

“Dude! It’s a month away!”

Lance sat up, turning to his best friend, one eyebrow arched. “Seriously? You say this like there’s such a thing as too early. And no, it’s only three weeks. We need to start now.”

Hunk groaned again, this time in only partial exasperation, and sat up. “Fine. The fuck are you planning this year?”

Lance just laughed. Hunk threw a pillow at him, collapsing in his own fit of giggling when a startled Lance took the pillow directly to the face. Lance’s alarm sounded, loud and annoying. He groaned, throwing Hunk’s pillow back, and fumbled for his phone to turn the blaring sound off.

“Fuck me. I have to get to rehearsal.”

In an apartment just off campus, Keith stopped playing and pulled the pencil out of his hair, making yet another correction to his scribbled sheet music. He started over, again, ignoring the key in the door and his roommate coming back in. He ignored their slight form dropping their overpacked backpack on the floor and throwing themselves onto the other end of the couch with their laptop and notebook. Keith was too focused on his music to pay much attention to Pidge.

Except that Pidge wanted his attention right then. “Hey. Asshole,” they said, throwing a ball of notebook paper at him.

“Yes, hellspawn?” he asked casually, setting his guitar on its stand by the couch, “What the fuck do you want?”

“I’m on the committee for the party. You’re coming,” they said while typing away on their laptop.

“No. I’m not. I don’t go to parties, and you know it. Why the fuck are you so determined for me to go?”

Pidge looked up, fixing him with their stare. “Because I said so. And because Matt’s going to be there. His girlfriend’s going too. You actually like Neve. So you’re going.”

“Including you, that’s three people I’d be willing to talk to. Why should I bother?” he stopped, a dreaded thought sparking as to why they were so hellbent on his going to the party. “It’s because it’s a week after my birthday, isn’t it?”

“What? You mean that thing you ignore every year except for the proliferation of doodles from your soulmate? Why would that have anything to do with it?”

“I'm still not going,” Keith insisted.

“We’ll see about that,” Pidge answered cryptically. They went back to their laptop, typing furiously. They stayed that way, ignoring Keith’s death glare until he gave up and went back to his music.

Eventually, Keith decided that the music portion of his brain was fried and gave up for the night. Pidge was buried in their laptop, writing a paper for their robotics class at top speed. Ignoring them for the moment, Keith opened his own laptop, going back to the English assignment he still hadn’t finished. It was due by the next class, which was two days away, but he’d been putting it off for longer than that. He typed lazily at it for a while before a horrible thought hit him and he realized that his previous assessment had been wrong. He glared up at Pidge over his screen.

“She’s going, isn’t she?” he asked.

“Who?” Pidge asked back, pretending they didn’t know what he meant.

“You know who.”

“If you’re referring to your sister, then yes, she is.”

Keith sighed. “Just because she knows who her soulmate is now, that doesn’t mean that you’re right. Mine could be literally anyone.”

Pidge closed their laptop. “And you’re in denial. I can not believe that your twin sister happens to have a soulmate who has a younger brother who is also a twin and his soulmate has a twin. The odds of that happening are so small as to be inconceivable! Not to mention the part where Acxa’s soulmate and her brother both connected with theirs on the same day.”

“Ok, I’ll give you that it’s weird. But you don’t know anything about Acxa’s soulmate’s siblings, and neither does she. And not everyone’s met theirs yet. You haven’t! All you know is their handle on Steam!”

“So? I also know that Beezer’s on the other side of the country. I know that we won’t get to meet in person until after graduation. All I'm saying is that this is a little too weird to be a coincidence.”

“And I’m not going to let you harass my sister’s soulmate about her siblings on the day they’re meeting face to face for the first time. Leave it alone, Pidge.”

“Fine,” they said, going back to their paper.

Keith knew full well that Pidge would not leave it alone, but there was only so much he could do to stop them.

A few days later, Lance dragged his twin sister, Hunk, and Shay to the nearest Halloween pop-up costume store. None of them had found anything they liked, and Lance was getting bored. Shay had wandered off to the decoration part of the store, and Hunk was making sure the twins didn’t get into trouble. But Hunk had gotten briefly distracted and lost them.

“Jules no.” Ah, there was Lance.

“Jules yes.” And his sister.

“Are you two still arguing?” Hunk asked as he approached the twins.

“Hunk,” Lance said, putting his hands on Hunk’s shoulders, “She wants us to be the Wonder Twins again. I absolutely refuse. We did that once when we were like nine.” He felt something hit his back and whipped around to find his sister holding a Wonder Twins costume. “Ana Julieta Alameda-McClain, get that fucking thing away from me.”

“Oh, fine. You’re no fun,” Jules pouted. She put it back, then turned around, spotting something else. “Ooh! Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch?”

“What the fuck – no! I’m never going Halloween shopping with you again. You’re on your own,” Lance said, wandering off and taking Hunk with him.

Hunk was laughing. “Why do you keep letting her do this, dude?”

“I don’t know. Anyway, I say we go over to The Costume Company. I think I’m done with mass-produced crap.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll go find Shay and meet up with you two at the car,” Hunk agreed, heading in the direction he’d last seen Shay.

Lance reluctantly went back to his sister. “We’re going to The Costume Company,” he said without getting her attention.

“Hm? Ok,” Jules answered, not paying attention to her twin.

“Bye, then.” He started to leave without her, getting halfway down the aisle of the Halloween pop-up before she realized what he’d said.

“Lance! Get back here, you ass!” she yelled after him.

He ignored her as payback for her insistence on twin costumes and kept going. She chased him all the way to his car, where Hunk and Shay were already waiting. Lance finally lost his composure, cracking up when he reached his waiting friends.

“Leandro. Alejandro. Alameda. McClain. I am going to kill you,” Jules growled while out of breath from chasing him.

“No you won’t,” he said, “Mamá would kill you in return.”

Shay saw her opportunity and took it. “Shotgun!” she announced, hopping into the passenger seat.

“Shay, I love you,” Hunk said, getting in behind Lance, effectively separating the twins.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Acxa, just promise me you won’t give in to Pidge. They’re being totally insufferable with this,” Keith said. He lay on his bed, earbuds connected to the call he was on with his twin.

“You know me better than that. Gremlin won’t get shit out of me. And she’s not getting anywhere near V at the party."

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

#my writing #abandoned wips #keith kogane #lance mcclain #klance #keith x lance #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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nypmphetsbastard · 3 years

Text

PARADIS ISLAND

Genre: slowburn fanfiction, college!au

Pairing: yelena x fem!reader

Summary: college becomes a whirlpool of new people and emotions once you meet a woman by the name of yelena manages to weasel her way into your once perfect life and tear down everything you ever thought to be true. From religious views to friendship, she builds something new. Now, she introduces you to new world she likes to call Paradis Island.

Warnings: angst, smut, hurt/comfort, struggles with Religion, homophobic comments/people

A/N: this story is posted on ao3 {NYMPHETSBASTARD} as well as wattpad {SUGACODED} because wattpad is acting a fool and I need another place to save this story👍

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Leaving home was always a rough time for both parent and child. Anybody who grew up in a loving home tended to stick to that home like glue, not wanting to separate from it and instead choosing to go to schools and jobs closer to home, closer to family. Those without however, preferred their freedom. When the clock struck 12 and everybody went to sleep was the only time they'd have to themselves, the only time they'd ever have to feel safe and relaxed — leaving home wasn't as hard on them.

You...well you were a different story. You didn't like a lot of things, being grabbed, having things snatched out of your hands, people taking your food without permission, somebody talking to you when you're clearly trying to avoid them — the list could go on. But growing up leaving you home never seemed to cross your mind. For whatever reason you felt like things were fine at home, not perfect but not terrible either, nine year old you didn't stop to think that one day you'd have to make the decision to move away from your friends and family. The small town you were in had a lot of older people, ones that never separated from their high school popularity phase and believed that the world revolved around them and them only, the others were newly young adults seeking any way out. You hoped you'd be the ladder.

Your parents had never spoken to you about leaving the house, meaning you grew up only learning what was taught in school. World War One and two, Pearl Harbor, slavery, and other shitty thing America did and or went through throughout the course of centuries on end — all only ever learned or discussed in school. The main focus in your household was religion and religion only. It's what you grew up to be right, nothing else existed in your mind besides that.

There was nothing wrong with that. Well...until around the time high school hit. Senior year was the year stressed to you since you were a freshman, you could barley fathom the fact that you'd have to apply for colleges, work on a bunch of different essays and possibly move away when you were young and you could still barley understand it now. But it was only then, then when they had handed you that slip of paper of which colleges you were going to apply to did you realize something; you didn't want to end up in a boring old relationship with a guy from your sophomore geometry class, get married, have a couple of kids that would send you to a nursing home and never live the life you dreamed of having.

You wanted that Disney channel teenage life, teenage adventures that would give you enough memories to last a lifetime and successfully say you lived your life to the fullest. While your teenage years had been spent in a church every weekday, your nose in school books and your bedtime forever stuck at the time 8:30, you swore your adulthood would be different.

Everything would be different.

"Are you sure you're not missing anything, hun?" Your mother asked nervously watching you pack the trunk up with your suitcase and extra bags. You yawned into your hand due to the more than early hours you guys were beginning the trip in order to make it early to your destination.

"You made a list mom, I don't think there's anything I could miss." She smiled your small joke and got in the passenger seat of the car, "You know, you guys really don't have to come. It's nearly a 4 and half hour drive over there, not including the drive back." You mentioned

"We already told you we're going to stop by my mother in laws and stay for a while." Your father explained, you sighed and got into the backseat of the car.

You brought your favorite stuffy and laid your head on it against the window as you prepared yourself for the 4 hour drive from your old childhood home to a new place where new memories could be made. It felt almost nostalgic watching your entire childhood fly by from behind a window. The blue slide you loved going up and down on till you felt like throwing up. The metal pole that always terrified you trying to go down. The monkey bars you taught yourself to climb because of the lack of friends you had that could teach you. It all seemed to disappear behind flashes of trees and road as the car drifted further and further away from the place you called home.

"Morning sunshine! We're here!" Your father exclaimed, waking you out of your slumber. You groaned quietly and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, taking a moment to look out the window at the large building in front of you. Gawking at the size, you shook your head and stepped out of the car to get a closer look.

"This is much smaller than the one I went to." Mentioned your father, squinting up at the building and helping you pull your suitcase out of the trunk.

"That's because you went to community college, honey." You chuckled at your moms observation and rolled your suitcase up to the sidewalk.

"Well I'll see you guys—" you started until your words were cut off by your mother slapping her hands down on your shoulders and giving you a firm look.

"I better not come visit you in a few months and see you with a purple Mohawk, piercings and a girlfriend, you hear me?" You nodded at her dramatic remarks and felt yourself internally cringe at her words.

"Hopefully we come back to you with a kind little boyfriend and a college degree we can show off to the rest of the family." Your father said, wrapping his arm around his wife's shoulders and gave you a tight lipped smile.

"Call us when you get settled and show us your roommate."

"And if they're anything we told you to not look like or if they smoke, drink or are sexually active in public, please change roommates."

They listed off, you internally rolled your eyes but still managed to give them a nod.

"Okay, I get it. Bye." You waved them off and stayed on the sidewalk till their old beat up grey car pulled away from the university.

Sighing, you rolled your shoulders back, grabbed all your things and walked the 10 minutes all the way to your side of the dorms. Personally, you had no clue who your roommate was besides their name but you knew even if you got a wild one you wouldn't change rooms. It didn't matter to you wether or not your roommate had purple hair, while your parents and nearly everyone in life tended to stick their nose in the business of others, you had no care in the world about anybody else.

From the moment you stepped into your new room, your nostrils were immediately being wrapped in by the smell of vanilla and incense. You looked around the room and noticed that only half of it was done up while the other was plain and void of any decoration.

"Hello, who are you?" A soft voice asked politely and there in front of you stood one of the prettiest girls you'd ever seen. She was a short young woman with long, disheveled shoulder-length black hair, a Greek nose and relaxed dark eyes.

"Oh sorry! I'm your new roommate, you're Pieck Finger, right?" You greeted her, shaking her surprisingly soft hands and placing your bags down on the floor next to you.

"Sorry about the smell, I'm lighting some incense to cleanse the new room. I just got here last night."

"Mhm, are you religious?" You asked, pointing to the black leather notebook in her hand. She looked down at it but smiled and shook her head.

"Ah no, I'm Agnostic. Although my childhood friend practices Hinduism and I guess I pick up on some things." She explained, you nodded at her words and made a mental note to ask her what the hell agnostic meant at a later time. Her eyes went down to the bags in your hand and reached out to grab your suitcase.

"Here I got this, I'll put this on your side of the bed and let me know if I can help with setting anything up." She offered kindly, you nodded at her offer and the two of you immediately got to work.

As you folded your clothes into a drawer and hung them up in a closet and Pieck finished wrapping your bed in it's covers and blankets, the two of you talked. Talked as if you'd been friends since birth. Pieck felt like someone you could truly se yourself being friends with in the long run of college, she was also someone your parents would most likely accept and allow you to stay with. The two of you bonded over certain interests, Pieck had a knack for writing — poems, full books, it didn't matter; you were the artistic one. Always doodling on something or recreating famous art paintings in your room, usually religious paintings as your parents always told you that if you were going to have painting as a hobby you might as well paint something useful.

"Finally, we're done." You sighed, exhaustedly throwing yourself onto the newly made bed. Pieck chuckled and stood up, grabbing her belongings and putting them into a small book bag.

"Hey, me and my friends are meeting in the library later, would you like to come?" She asked, you mulled over the idea for a quick second and nodded your head.

The walk from your dorm and the library gave you and Pieck even more time to get to know each other. She explained how most people from her old high school had come to the nearest college, it being this one which is why she never worried about not making any friends. Your eyes nearly popped out of your eye socket as you stepped up to the large library building, it being much bigger than any library your town had to offer. Pieck held the door open for you as you stepped in and took a moment to admire the large area.

"Psst, Pieck!" Whispered a voice, you looked over to see a brown haired woman in big round glasses waving the two of you over with a wide grin on her face. Pieck waved back and walked over the round table with the two other people sitting and you following behind her.

"Hey guys, this is my new roommate. This is—"

"Hange Zoë, nice to meet you!" The glasses wearing woman exclaimed excitedly taking your hand in her and shaking it vigorously. A nearby librarian glared her way and hushed her, she smiled and apologized to the old woman.

"I'm Porco." Replied the blonde boy on the other side of the table dryly.

You waved at him awkwardly and sat down next to Pieck, yet it was only after they began pulling out their books did you realize you had nothing with you. Tapping the dark haired girl on the shoulder, you motioned towards the bookshelf's and stood up to leave once Pieck nodded her head.

You walked around aimlessly with no true destination or book in mind till you came across a bookshelf, this one different than the others and tucked away in a little corner. It was old and basic but it still had integrity. The wood was straight and it hugged the wall. On closer inspection you could see scratches, the wood a little more pale where it had been dinged. You touched the roughness, not minding one bit and looked at the books inside. The fiction section had always been your favorite growing up, your parents believed books like Harry Potter were some sort of books that demonic and plaguing words hidden within them so you only ever grew up reading them in short amounts of time in the library before they could find you.

A small gasp made its way up your throat as your eyes landed across a book titled Alice in Wonderland, one of your top favorites. The ladder that usually came along with each bookshelf was currently being occupied yet this specific bookshelf seemed to take up nearly the entire wall of the library — this might've been one of the first things you couldn't successfully grab with ease. You reached your hand up to grab the book, your fingertips only slightly touching them before the book suddenly disappeared from your grasp and a warm presence creeped up behind you, towering over your frame.

Looking up, your eyes met a pair deep dark eyes staring down at you, the book now forgotten in your mind as it was now clouded with the face of the person in front of you. It was only after a couple seconds that you blinked out of your trance and stepped back, falling straight between the bookshelf and the person. You felt...intimidated. The person in front of you was more than taller than you, a height you thought was nearly impossible. They tilted their head to the side, bent down a bit and held the book out in their hand as your eyes stayed trained on theirs.

"Do you want it?" They asked, you nearly jumped in your skin at the sound of their somewhat deep voice.

"Huh?"

"The book." You looked down and finally registered the fact that they'd picked up the book you were grabbing at and now held it out to you.

"O-oh right, thank you." You stuttered, mentally cursing yourself for acting this way. While your eyes strayed away from theirs, they went downward to the person's appearance.

They wore a dark green turtleneck sweater paired with high waisted black pants, accentuating their long legs and black lace up Oxford shoes — their entire appearance intimidated you. The center of their nose pierced through with silver piece of jewelry.

"I..." you regretted opening your mouth the second the words came out, "gotta go," the words spilled out of your mouth as you immediately walked around them and towards your table, the interaction still replaying in your head on loop. It wasn't until you rapidly sat yourself down next to Pieck that you felt like you could breath.

You weren't the most social person in the world but you also weren't the most nervous, but they...their presence, their height, the look in their eyes, it all seemed to send you into frenzy. Ignoring the slightly worried look you got from Pieck, you open the notebook given to you and tried to let the interaction seep away into your memories. Yet it didn't work. Every word on the paper seemed to fly over your head, your mind never sticking to the sentences given to you. Hell, you could barley read about Alice's shitty life without comparing it to what had just occurred. It was all too fresh. Too new. Too...interesting.

"Mornin' Pieck." Greeted a deep voice from behind you, turning around you were faced with a tall blonde haired man with small circle glasses resting on his nose.

"Good mornin, Zeke." Pieck responded kindly, the man looked around the table greeting everyone till his eyes met yours.

"I don't think I've met you before, and who must you be?" He bowed down respectfully and held out his hand, you looked at it confused for a second before sliding your hand into his and watching as he leaned his head down to plant a kiss at the back of your hand.

Before you could protest, a different hand gripped Zeke's shoulder, he pulled away and turned around to find his female companion standing above him with a blank expression on her face — one he'd gotten used to over the course of their friendship. Meanwhile your breath was caught in your throat at the sight of the intimidating person you'd met only moments before.

"Your book, Zeke." They said plainly, Zeke pulled away from you and took the textbook of their hands, thanking them and skimming through the textbook as both of your eyes never left theirs.

"Good morning, Yelena." Pieck greeted her with a smile, finally, Yelena's eyes drifted away from yours and were now on Pieck, the sides of her lips quirking up into a smirk for a second.

"Good morning, Pieck." Your eyes went back and forth between them in confusion until another person popped up behind Zeke.

"Hey guys, hey hange, Pieck." The dark haired man bun wearing boy said, leaning his arm against Zeke's shoulder despite them being the same height.

"Guess I'm just invisible then" spoke up Porco with an offended look on his face, the dark haired boy simply looked at him and blinked.

"Oh no I knew you were there, I just don't care. Anyways, are you guys coming to my big party tonight?" He asked excitedly, Zeke scoffed and pushed his glasses further up his face.

"Tch, we're not children, Eren. Why would we go to some teenage party?" Eren scoffed at the blonde mans response.

"Yeah obviously not you, old man, you're fucking ancient. I was talking to Pieck and..." he looked at you with a confused expression before shrugging and pointing at you, "and her."

"I'm not even that old—"

"Sorry, Eren but you already know my answer." She apologized, Eren pouted and groaned.

"Oh come on, please, Pieck? The last time you went everybody loved you, please?" He begged Pieck, placing his hands on her arm that was leaned against the wooden chair she sat at.

"Aw sorry, kid. I love them all too but I gotta tutoring session today." She apologized sympathetically, patting the boys head and turning to you, "what about you?"

You jumped at the sudden spotlight on you but shook your head regardless, "If Pieck's not going then neither am I." Eren groaned again and tried puppy dog eyes on the long haired woman in front of him.

"Look Pieck, you're deriving your new friend here with the experience of a fun college party." She smiled at his explanation which apparently told Eren enough that he stopped bugging her and stood up to his full height, slamming his shoulder into Zeke's as he walked away and mumbled something under his breath. Zeke almost turned around to go after him until Yelena outstretched her arm to stop him.

"He's a child." She pointed out

"He's a little shit, is what he is." Zeke complained, you looked over at Hange for information.

"They're brothers." She stated, your mouth made an o shape as you finally came to understand why the two seemed to have so much beef between them.

"Half brothers, Hange. Don't associate me with that brat." Zeke huffed, everyone chuckling at the mans clear discomfort with him and Eren being in the same room let alone sentence. "Anyways, we've gotta go, me and Yelena have business to take care of." Zeke said.

"Jeez, you make it sound like the two of you are hooking up." Porco mentioned with a disgusted look on his face,

"What if we are?" He joked playfully until he looked up to see Yelena towering over him with a straight look on her face, Zeke cleared his throat and shook his head, "Kidding, kidding."

The two of them walked out of the library and the three other people at your table continued on their reading while your mind was racked with a bunch of questions of the new characters you just met. You tried to avoid eye contact with Yelena when she was leaving but could still feel her piercing gaze stay onto you until she couldn't anymore.

"So are they?" You inquired with a whisper, leaning over Pieck's shoulder

"Are they what?"

"Zeke and Yelena. Are they..." you raised your eyebrows as the words clicked in Pieck's mind and the other two at the table began laughing into their books.

"No, sweetie, they're not sleeping together or dating." She denied

"Pfft, the day we see Yelena with a man is the day pigs fly." Chuckled Porco, you looked at them confused at their jokes.

"Yelena's a lesbian, babe." Pieck finished your thought and your eyes slightly widened at her response, not expecting it. Embarrassment silently creeped into your mind as you groaned and tucked your head into your arms.

"Well now I feel stupid." The three of them laughed and Pieck rubbed your back.

For some reason, those words felt like a small weight lifted off your shoulders. You couldn't understand why you felt so...happy that she wasn't with Zeke in that way. Maybe you just wanted to her friend. Yeah....that had to be it....her friend.

#yelena #yelena aot #attack on titan #pieck x y/n #pieck finger #pieck x yelena #hange zoë #porco x reader #snk season 4 #eren yeager #zeke yeager

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