you just run them over with the bus

the five types of anons

anon type 1: you’re really cool i love you!

anon type 2: hey let’s talk about [subject that is 100% guaranteed to start discourse and drama no matter which way you reply]

anon type 3: no offense but you’re the dumbest bitch i’ve ever seen. no offense but i literally hope you fucking die. hope you don’t take this the wrong way but i hope you get run over by a bus and die. no offe

anon type 4: [something entirely incoherent. what are they saying? we have no idea. you ask them what they mean and they never come back. who are they]

anon type 5: hey there! i fucking hate you. i literally don’t have a reason lol i just hate you so much and i wanted to tell you that i h


T’Challa x Reader

Harsh white hospital lights flash by above you as you struggle to keep your focus on breathing. A warm hand grasps yours as you are rushed down the hallway, and you roll your eyes over to see who is rushing beside you. T’Challa’s worried face leans over you as he runs, and you blink slowly once more.

Then all sound comes rushing back to you. “Just hold on, ma’am,” a nurse in front of you yells. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Godammit, (y/n),” T’Challa mutters. “Why did you have to go on that mission?”

Tears well up in your eyes, but you don’t have enough strength to respond. The lights above you dim for just a moment, and you gasp as you realize you’re being wheeled into an operation room. The last thing you hear before losing consciousness is T’Challa screaming at the doctors to be let into the room. 

An incessant beeping is what wakes you up. 

You open your eyes and close them just as quick at the bright light above you. “T’Challa?” you call out, squeezing your eyes shut. 

A warm hand slides into yours. “Here. How are you feeling?”

You open your eyes again, squinting as they adjust to the bright hospital lighting. “Like I got hit by a bus and then got run over again.” You tighten your hand in his and look down at the pulse monitor you have on your finger. There’s also an IV stuck in your arm, and your whole torso feels incredibly numb. “What happened?” you croak out.

“You went on a mission I specifically told you not to go on, and you nearly died.” T’CHalla shakes his head and covers your hand with his other one. “(y/n), I was so scared.”

Tears well up in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I just … it needed to be done. I’m so sorry for scaring you.”

T’Challa reaches up and cups your jaw. “I was so worried. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

You smile and lean into his hand. The door behind T’Challa opens, and who must be the doctor walks in. He’s a plump man with bright blue eyes framed behind glasses. He smiles at the two of you, and T’Challa leans back. “Hello, you two. I’m Doctor Richie.” He looks down at you, eyes twinkling kindly. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

You smile at him. “Me too.”

“How is she, Doctor?” T’Challa asks.

“Well, her surgery went well, and according to the nurses your injuries are healing nicely.” He smiles. “Oh, and according to the ultrasound we performed before surgery to look at your internal bleeding, your baby is fine.”

Your eyes widen, and you lock eyes with T’Challa’s. “What baby?” he asks.

The doctor chuckles. “You’re pregnant, Mrs.-” He looks down at his clipboard and chuckles again. “Well, you don’t exactly have a last name, do you two?”

“Wait,” you try to sit up, but T’Challa pushes you back down gently, “you’re saying that I’m pregnant?”

Doctor Richie’s eyes widen. “Oh…”

You Steal the Air out of My Lungs (You Make Me Feel It)

*click through to read on ao3

written by: Emily | @prosciuttoe

prompt: ‘I know that you think I hate you but I swear to God I didn’t mean to hit you with my car.‘

word count: 2815

The funny thing is, under entirely different circumstances, Clarke’s pretty sure that she and Bellamy Blake could have been friends.

The first time she meets him, Kane is introducing them and he’s supposed to be showing her the ropes, since it’s her first day at the bookstore. He has a well-worn copy of Howl’s Moving Castle sticking out of his bag, freckles, and dark, messy curls that Clarke really wants to run her fingers through. (She’s… pretty intrigued, if she’s being entirely honest.)

But then he opens his big, stupid mouth, and suddenly all of her feelings of goodwill go up in smoke, because Bellamy Blake is, undoubtedly, a massive asshole.

He won’t stop calling her Princess, for one, and makes a face every time she so much as asks a question about the cash register. The constant jibes about her having gotten the job due to nepotism (so their boss may also be her mom’s fiancé, sue her) certainly don’t help either, and he actually laughs when a book display falls on her foot.

Suffice to say, he is definitely not her favorite person. On particularly bad days, she entertains a fantasy or two of shoving him down a flight of stairs. On worse ones, she dreams of pushing him down a manhole.

Still, murderous tendencies aside, Clarke doesn’t mean to actually run him over with her car.

Keep reading

*gives my characters all my mental disorders and my trauma OKAY here we go*

(this also partly exists because what the fuck is a name to dissociated parts)

(Warning for mentions of bullying and shit?? some shit. idk. authority figures not handling it well, that sort of thing.)


So you’ve figured out this bullshit. Only you, so far, which is tricky with OSDD-1b because if you think too much about it or assign too much significance to it, others in-system will find out too.

But there are fairies. That’s what the deal was with not using the legal name assigned to you at birth. So instead you’ve all been using the name you chose for in case you ever integrate. Which is bad. It’s very bad, it means you can’t even think about recovery until you graduate, but you need to think about recovery because you’re all barely scraping Cs– How will you pass your classes, when you were all highkey unprepared for college stress and every time you get a chance to stop and think about life you can’t even imagine anything past this month, let alone if you ever graduate–

Luckily the name only has significance or power over you all as a Whole, or you’d be so screwed.

You need to calm down; you’re getting too emotional about this and someone is going to pick up on it.

Maybe you can change to a different name, nonchalantly, or– choose a different name for if you integrate? No, the one you already have is from before you realised you were a system, it’s what everyone calls you, it /feels/ like who you’ll all be together if you ever go together.

But to switch to a different name for day to day life would mean telling the rest of the system, which would probably result in the creation of another part. And you know what’s going on with the mind. You can tell how this place has been affecting it. The stress is fragmenting all of you, even though you still don’t ever lose time, as a Collective Group or even as individuals; part of OSDD-1b, and the part that made it hardest for you to accept it, is that there’s no amnesia between alters. But you each have your own sense of self.

Anyway. The Elsewhere has been fucking with you. It’s causing thought patterns that are worryingly similar to those of the fae. And if a new part formed, you have a sinking suspicion that it would be convinced it’s a fairy.

That would be bad.

This place is probably fucking you up. Unless you figure out a way to keep all the memories of Elsewhere after you leave, your dissociative symptoms might not ever be manageable, since integration requires an acceptance of all parts as something roughly equating to a “Myself” and that means dealing with any trauma. And there’ll be trauma here, you’re certain of it, with your Brain Problems and the fact that everyone on campus knows your WholeName… Something bad is going to happen to you.

You’re honestly tired of feeling doomed. You had pretty much accepted the fact that adult life would probably never happen for you, that you wouldn’t make it to college without a fatal breakdown, that… that you didn’t have to stress about Later because all you could rely on having was Now.

Is that a bargaining piece? Okay.

< Maybe the fairies will make us all one person if we ask Them nicely, > says Lilly. Fuck. You didn’t even notice she was paying any attention.

Lilly romanticises integration. She’s one of two child alters in system, and doesn’t seem to understand that it’s hard, immensely hard, to integrate. She thinks about it like it’s just as easy as snapping the fingers, despite multiple attempts by multiple other alters to convince her otherwise. Most of you have pretty much accepted that it’s part of who she is. (The only one who hasn’t is Alexander, but that’s a story for another time.)

< The fairies always want something in return, Lils. >

< Fairies? > Alexander takes an interest. Yes, fairies. There are fairies here. No, we aren’t going to fuck with Them. Because we Just Aren’t.

< Let’s trade our constant crushing feeling of existential doom for the ability to handle trauma as one person. >

And that’s how you end up in the Shadow Place Behind The Dorms with everyone trying to front at once. It’s disorderly, to say the least. It’s also a terrible idea. Several of you collaborate and choose some words.

And then there’s general panic for a few seconds because one of you gets the idea that maybe you all left the salt and iron and other protective doodads behind, but someone makes the hands pat the pockets and yes, the salt is there, so is the iron, and oh, a fig newton bar that you forgot to eat earlier today. So the words tumble out of the mouth.

“We request an audience, s– our regrets if we’re messing this up somehow.”

You almost say sorry.

Something shifts. There’s no sparkles, and Lilly is disappointed. She also romanticises fairies. She romanticises everything.

But something shifts, and you can all suddenly tell you aren’t alone anymore.

The darkness speaks in a voice that sounds like… it sounds like trauma, which isn’t creepy in itself but it sounds like /your/ trauma, like kids fucking each other up in grade-school and teachers doing nothing, like blocks falling over for the last time before the popular kids just stopped letting you even start to build things, because they’d tired of knocking them over on you. It sounds like that kid on the bus who threw your homework out the window the one time you actually did it.

And it sounds like the principal suggesting that your parents take all of your books out of your room to get you to behave, which you weren’t supposed to hear, which sent you running out of the building, which fucked you up so bad because god books were (are) your escape and they’ve never hurt you and they never change. Both books and adults never change.

You shiver and imagine running, because if you do it for real, you know this will end badly.

“What do you propose to bargain?” the darkness asks.

“Doom. Our doom. For– for the ability to handle trauma, um, together. To integrate.”

The darkness whispers to itself like the other kids on the school camping trip when they shut you out of the tent. And then it replies,

“You should not attempt to trade away parts of yourself for an ability you already have, children.”

And then it dissipates. And even though you call it back you feel something weird together, like– it understands you, it could have accepted but it didn’t and it told you that you could do this–

“Wait! Please, I mean, I have a counter-proposal. Please.”

It reappears and takes a form, positioning itself about a foot away from your face. It looks like exclusion and like it’s about to call you annoying and say it doesn’t want to play with you.


“You have– our name. Everyone does. And we need it back.”

Your trauma looks at you and falters and you choke on a sob.

“You want me to give you your Self back?”

Saying yes would be… a bad idea. You won’t let it dictate the terms.

“I have come to reclaim my identity, because it is mine, and–”

“I cannot. That power is not mine.”

You sob, and reach out to it. It recoils. Even your trauma can’t stand you.

And suddenly you understand. And it sees you understand. It doesn’t leave, doesn’t give in, just disintegrates and attaches itself to you in the form of a chain that ends at a weight between your feet.

You have to find a real fairy; your trauma isn’t a fairy, was only personified by one of Them.

“We humbly request an audience,” you say shakily together into the dark. Your trauma’s chains are iron, but the gentry have your WholeName and you need it back.

Something(s) traipse out from the cracks between bricks, bright, purple, shiny in a way that makes Lilly mentally bounce. And Alexander mentally rolls his eyes.

They have your WholeName and you need to recover to succeed here but you can’t do it while you’re here but you can’t do it away from here because if you don’t have these memories, it won’t work.

“I propose a trade. The useless name you posses, and in return I become a professor when I graduate.”

The purple things rumble back,

“What do you need with the Name if it is unusable?”

You can’t lie. If you lie, They will know.

“I’m not comfortable answering that.”

It humours you. Or rather, it finds humour in you.

“What can you teach?”

You think for a moment.

“Books. I can teach books.”

It hesitates, and you take the fig newton out of your pocket.

“I also have this.”

It surges forwards, but stops before getting too close, probably because of the iron in your Self.


And so it goes. You get back the WholeName on the condition that you’ll stay here forever as a librarian. You drag the weight of your doom around with you (attached to the chain of your trauma) for the three and a half remaining years until you graduate, and once you do, you break the last link in the chain and toss your doom into Nowhere (you know oblivion, you breathe it in every second you spend dissociating). You walk into the library, where your doom will never find you. And you become the books. You know the books. You know yourself.

Your doom won’t have the time to find you here.


The 100th | Wonho

Characters: Police officer Wonho x reader

Genre: Mystery/thriller

Length: 2286 words

A/N: South Korea’s notorious serial killer has you on his list next and the police only has 10 days to find and stop him before he finds you.

part two | part three

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi can u please pleaseee do a Saeran + MC highschool au? Thank you i love your work!

Is it okay if it’s kinda long? T-T


Damn rain. Now he was going to be late for band practice. Saeran slung his guitar case over his shoulder and sprinted to the nearest bus shelter. It won’t be stopping any time soon. He sighed. There was nothing he could do about it now. He wasn’t about to run to the other side of town when it was downright pouring. 

He began kicking pebbles, watching them tumble across the pavement. Just my luck. The principal had called him in for cutting class, his brother had tried to lecture him, and now this. What a miserable day.

Just then, he noticed a shadow touching his. Saeran looked up. A girl?

You were completely soaked. Your dark hair dripped down onto your already rain-spattered uniform, your shoulders quivering slightly from the cold. He blinked. I know her. 

“This is you, isn’t it?” You asked, holding up a wallet with a school ID tucked into the plastic sleeve - his school ID. 

Saeran tore it out of your hands. “Where did you get this?!” He demanded.

“You dropped it,” You replied matter-of-factly, standing beside him and squeezing the excess moisture out of your hair. 

Saeran stared at you for a moment. Now, he had had his fair share of admirers. He didn’t know what it was that made him so appealing, but he had endured those feverish love-letters and heartfelt confessions all the same. Part of him wondered if perhaps this girl was one of them. She can’t be. She’s the class president. 

Still, he couldn’t help himself. Was returning my wallet simply an excuse to talk to me? 

He scoffed. “What? And you came all the way here just to give it to me?”

“Don’t get cocky. We both got caught in the rain. I was already going this way; you just happened to be walking ahead of me.” Your deadpan response embarrassed him.

“What’s the class president doing in this part of town, anyway?!” He blurted. “Where’s that chauffeured car of yours?!”

“I’m surprised you know who I am, Saeran.” She knows me? Wait- of course she does. She saw my ID. 

“Don’t change the subject!”

You bit your lip. “There’s isn’t one. Not today, anyway. I’m here to visit a friend.” You glanced at his guitar case. “And you? What are you here for?”

“None of your business.”

“That’s hardly fair, is it? After I’ve told you my own reason for being here.” You were right, of course. 

For some reason, that seemed to aggravate him further. Saeran chose not to reply. How rude! You thought. 

Silence hung in the air. You peered at him. So this is the boy who never comes to class. You rolled your eyes. The same boy all my friends seem to fawn over. You were having trouble understanding Saeran’s appeal. His permanent scowl was hardly inviting, and his bleached silver-pink hair screamed ‘delinquent’. Was this really the same boy you had heard playing the guitar so beautifully in the music room that one afternoon? 

You shook your head. Stop wondering about him. Your first priority was to find your friend’s apartment - not to talk to Saeran. Earlier, you had debated whether to ask him for help. After talking to him, however… I’d rather break both legs than get help from him. 

The rain continued to pelt down harder than ever. You shivered. It was clear that you wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. We’re both stuck here. 

“Saeran?” you asked, piercing the silence. No response. “Can you really play that?”

She must be talking about my guitar case. He stuck his hands in pockets. “You’re kinda nosy, aren’t you?” 

I am not nosy! You bit the inside of your cheek. Fine, then. 

The way you crossed your arms and turned away from him almost made Saeran want to laugh out loud. What a brat. He glanced at you. Your water-logged Mary Janes, the way your walked as if your spine was held taught by a string, and that dove-grey ribbon in your hair… She definitely isn’t from here. 

What is she doing alone in this place? Doesn’t she know how dangerous it is? 

Now you were fiddling with your phone, stopping occasionally to crane your neck and squint at the surrounding streets. Saeran tilted his head. By any chance…?

“Are you lost?” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them, sounding gentler than he would have wanted them to. Shut up, Saeran! He wanted to smack himself. 

You looked back at him, simultaneously startled and flustered by the concern in his voice. You managed to compose yourself before betraying any sign of astonishment. “What’s it to you?” You answered bitterly. 

You glared at each other for a moment before diverting your gaze elsewhere, mutually irked.



Once again, silence took hold. The rain still wasn’t stopping. Is this for real? How much longer do I have to be stuck here with Ms. High-and-Mighty?

Saeran sighed. I’m going to regret this. “Yes.” He said. 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I can play the guitar.” 

You thought for a moment. “Is it you, then? The person who’s always in that old music room?”

She heard me?! “So what if it was?!”

“I knew it! You play very well. It takes quite some skill to get those scales right.” 

“Tch. What would you know about music?”

“My mother is a composer,” You said, beaming. “Sure, she’s more Mozart than Metallica, but I know a good musician when I hear one. And I like how you play.” 

He hadn’t expected that. Not your compliment, and certainly not your smile. Did she win the presidency with that smile alone? “Thanks.” He muttered. 

“Don’t thank me. I was only being honest.” 

Oh, God. Now he was full-on blushing. Saeran tried to snap himself out of it. Stop it! She’s not even confessing to you! She’s just telling you she likes how you play! He was so confounded that he wanted to believe you were playing with him. Though, he knew he was only lying to himself. Her smile was so sweet just now. She couldn’t have been messing with me. 

You pursed your lips, conscious of his gaze. He was boring holes into your skull. You tried to ignore him, but you couldn’t deny that it was making you nervous. What have I done now?! Luckily for Saeran, you couldn’t see the flush of red that had blossomed on his cheeks. Instead you were busy typing away on your phone again, your eyes fixed firmly on the screen. 


You looked up to find Saeran holding a jacket over his head. Huh? “What are you doing?” 

“Just get over here, will you?”

“Get over where?”

He stepped forward and held the jacket over the both of you. “There’s another bus shelter up ahead, closer to the center of town. It’ll be easier to find wherever you’re going from there.”

Your expression shifted from curiosity to defiance once you realised what he was implying. “I’m not lost, okay?!” 

Saeran felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, yeah. You can thank me after I get you there safely.” 

I don’t know what this is— it’s probably too detailed and stuff to be a headcanon, yet too short and scattered to be a fic 💦 But regardless, this was like.. the most random idea of mine I had. I just wanted to write this, it’s mostly self-indulgent, but I hope you like it!

Jikook; rich!Jungkook x jewelry sales assistant!Jimin

Summary: Jungkook’s tired of gold-diggers.

  • Jimin works as a jewelry sales assistant in one of the most luxurious store ever, and though he wouldn’t refer to himself as an expert, he thinks it’s probably alright if he dares to think he’s a prepared professional who knows how to answer every question any customers have, and can definitely help them with anything.
  • Jungkook comes into the store for less than five minutes with his date picking out everything she sees greedily, and Jimin is left with his head blank.
  • “How can I help you, sir—” Jimin asks after Jungkook leads him to the counter opposite of where his date is, and Jungkook’s quick to intercept with a troubled expression like he’s at his wits’ end.
  • “Hit me in the face, and call me a cheater.”
  • Jungkook insists stubbornly (“I promise you’re not going to lose your job because of this”), but even so Jimin denies firmly, the idea too bizarre to even sit right in his mind until their small struggle finally catches the attention of Jungkook’s date. With her approaching, Jimin sees the way Jungkook groans as he rubs at his temples like his patience’s wearing out.
  • With no ridiculous plan to execute this time, Jungkook chooses the most direct way this time — and breaks up with her.
  • Jungkook sits in the staff room less than fifteen minutes later, with his cheek red from a slap that’s been hurled to his face mercilessly. Jimin thinks it hurts just by looking at it, and he helps to hold the ice pack to Jungkook’s cheek as they sit wordlessly, the air too stagnant and awkward for anyone to say anything. But everything makes sense now; Jungkook’s sudden request, and the decision he suddenly made. All his date really did care for was only the presents, after all (it became crystal clear when all Jungkook had to do at the end to resolve the situation was to write her a cheque).
  • “Still got hit after all,” Jungkook says after a long while, and smiles a little as he tries to lighten the mood. Jimin can’t help but reciprocate it, letting the corners of his lips curl up when he puts the ice pack away. “Thank you.”
  • Jimin thinks he hasn’t helped much, but then again Jungkook doesn’t see it that way, not when Jimin stepped out of the counter to reprimand the other’s date for getting physical, and almost got shoved if not for security who came in time.
  • When Jungkook’s chauffeur is back to pick him up, he’s left thinking about the honest staff with a beautiful smile in the jewelry store who offered him a packet of sweets to cheer him up after he turns down Jungkook’s money (he doesn’t know how else to thank the other), and gets back to work. Jimin, Jungkook makes sure he remembers.
  • Jungkook eventually comes back to the store again and again, each time making up a lie over having to buy a relative of his a beautiful present. Jimin doesn’t realize it at first, simply explaining every single little detail to Jungkook who listens intently (because it’s oddly soothing) until the cycle gets even obvious to him who’s often oblivious.
  • “Don’t waste your money,” Jimin says one afternoon when Jungkook runs out of excuses. For someone who runs a company that feasts on creativity, he sure isn’t. “… If you want to get to know me, just ask me out.”
  • That, Jungkook does.
  • Jimin’s ideas of dates involve really getting to know each other over dinners in comfy diners and fast food joints, digging out embarrassing memories just to laugh at together, adorable text messages that distract Jungkook in the middle of business meetings and also long slow trips when Jungkook insists on sending Jimin back home, but they choose to take the bus together instead of letting Jungkook’s chauffeur drive.
  • Jungkook manages to convince Jimin into letting them dine at a fancy restaurant for once, where they exchanged more stories about each other. Jimin and his dream to design something as beautiful as the jewelry that’s sitting in the display back in his workplace; Jungkook and his struggles with meeting people who always just bother more about his money than the person he really is inside. Jimin holds his hand throughout dinner that night, and Jungkook shifts to lace their fingers together. It fits.
  • (Though Jungkook seized the chance and paid for dinner when Jimin left to the restroom, he returns home that night to find money slipped into the pockets of his suit.)
  • Bonus: Jungkook comes back to the store next week with a bouquet of pink roses, and though Jimin’s expression evidently brightens over the sight of seeing the other, he feels his heart sink the second a beautiful woman follows, linking her arm with Jungkook’s.
  • Jimin tries his best to be as professional as possible when Jungkook asks him about the necklaces that are popular at the moment, and finds himself unable to detect the humor that’s in all this when Jungkook looks mostly amused.
  • Maybe it’s all been a game for Jungkook, Jimin thinks sourly as he rummages through the drawer behind the counter for the different diamond charms. When he gets up from where he was, the bouquet of roses is now placed on the counter, pushed in his direction — to him.
  • “It’s for you,” Jungkook admits as he tries to hide that playful smile on his face by biting on his bottom lip. Jimin just looks confused, and immediately glances over to the woman who came with Jungkook — and catches how amused she looks, too. “Meet Eunbi, Jimin. Jeon Eunbi, my sister.”
  • “I’ve heard so much about you, Jimin. It’s nice to finally meet you!”
  • (Jimin almost disappeared into the staff room from how embarrassed he is, but Jungkook stops him by grabbing at his hand, their fingers filling in the gaps with familiarity and comfort now.)
  • “Dinner at eight, after your work? I think it’s time my sister gets to know more about my boyfriend.”

Johnny x Reader

Wordcount: 1,936

Requested by anon:

Hi! :) I was wondering if you could make a scenario about Johnny where you have a crush on him and you were about to tell him when the other members rat you out? Thank you, have a good day! x

“I’ll be there.  See you later Johnny!”

You hung up the phone and started to get ready.  Johnny had phoned you from NCT’s dance practice to invite you to go and watch them run through their new choreography.  You only had half an hour before you needed to leave your dorm room to catch the bus, and you wanted to look your best.

Johnny was always flirty with you, but it never progressed any further than that.  As far as you knew, Johnny just wanted to be friends; he was just a natural flirt.  And as far as Johnny knew, your bias was and always had been Yuta.  You and Yuta had grown quite close over the last few months, so it was easy convincing Johnny that he was your bias.  Knowing Johnny could be a bit cocky at times, you had never told him that in actuality, he had been your bias for years.  You had also neglected to tell him that over the last few months you had totally fallen for him.  You were too scared to admit it.   You didn’t want to get rejected or ruin the friendship you had built.  Johnny was literally the only member of NCT and only one of your friends who didn’t know how you felt.  You wanted him to know, because you hoped that he would feel the same and you could be together.  You had decided that you had to conquer your fears and tell him how you felt.  When Johnny invited you to watch their dance practice, you knew.  You told yourself that today was the day.  You were going to confess.


“(Y/n), you made it!” Donghyuk exclaimed as he ran to hug you the moment you stepped into the practice room.

“Hey guys,” you giggled at his cute welcome.  The other members all came to greet you with more hugs.  It had been a few weeks since you had seen NCT.  It felt like a mini-reunion.

“Are you ready to see our new choreography?  It’s going to blow your mind,” Johnny said as he gave you a hi-five.  Cocky and nonchalant as always.  Why did you even like this giant fool.

“Hi Johnny.”  You rolled your eyes at him in response.

“Just a high-five? Come on man, at least give her a hug.  We haven’t seen (y/n) in forever!”  Ten exclaimed.  You knew this would happen.  The guys always tried to wing-man you whenever you were with Johnny.

“Yea hyung, give her a big hug!” Mark backed up Ten.

Johnny gave into peer pressure as he made his way over and gave you a hug.  Thank god he was so much taller than you – you could hide your blushing face in his chest.  

Pleased with the hug, the members slowly detached themselves from the circle they had formed around you and got into formation to begin their practice.  You would usually take a seat against the mirror to get a front-view of the choreography.  But as you began to head towards your spot, you felt a hand holding you back.

“Hey scaredy-cat, are you going to confess to Johnny today?”

“Yuta be quiet! What if he hears you?!”  You put your hand over his mouth.

“At least he would finally know how you feel,” Yuta whispered as he gently brought your hand down from his face.

“Yea (y/n).   It’s been months!  If you don’t tell him, one of us is going to,” Jaehyun chimed in.

“I swear to god if you tell Johnny how I feel I will never call you Jeffrey again.”


The next couple of hours were spent watching the guys practice.  The new choreography was as impressive as you expected.  They were so much fun to watch.  It was easy to focus on the performance, and not the fact that you were planning to confess.

Before you knew it, they were ready to take a short dinner break.  You would have a chance to sit and chat with Johnny now.  You hoped you could muster up the courage to finally confess to him.

You were all gathered in a circle eating the food NCT’s managers had brought in.  You were sandwiched between Johnny and Taeyong, with Taeyong constantly inching closer to you, giving you no choice but to move closer to Johnny until your arms were touching each other.

“You okay (y/n)?”

“Yea, I’m good Johnny, sorry. Taeyong keeps moving closer to me.” You tried to explain your actions.

“Suuuuure.  You know, you don’t need an excuse to sit closer to me. I know I’m irresistible.”

There it was.  The flirty attitude that made you simultaneously blush and want to hit Johnny.

“It wasn’t an excuse, I was just helping out a friend.”  Taeyong winked at you.

You hit his arm, signaling him to shut up.  Why oh why had you decided that meeting up with Johnny when all the others were around was a good idea?  You knew they always tried to make your crush super obvious.  To be honest, you were kind of amazed he hadn’t asked you about it already.  It was barely a secret at this point.

“So the choreography was really awesome!  Maybe even more impressive than Limitless,” you said, quickly trying to change the subject before Johnny could question Taeyong’s statement.

The other members all thanked you and nodded in agreement, then went back to eating.  Aside from the few snide remarks you had received, they were so engrossed in their food that no one was really talking.  To be fair, they were probably exhausted from practicing so diligently.  They deserved to have a break and stuff their faces to recuperate a bit.  It was kid of amusing watching them all stuff their faces in silence.

“The choreography is awesome? You sure that’s all you wanted to say to Johnny hyung (y/n)?”  Donghyuk finally broke the silence, almost making you spit out the water you were drinking.  This kid had a deathwish.

“What are you talking about Donghyuk,” you stuttered, trying to play innocent.

“He means, don’t you have something else you want to tell him?”  Taeyong spoke up, still pressing into you in an attempt to move you closer to Johnny.   At this point, closer would require you to crawl into Johnny’s lap.

“Now’s your chance loser,” Yuta taunted you.

“Yuta shut the fuck up,” you snapped.  “I really hate you sometimes.”

“Wow, considering Yuta is your bias, you sure are mean to him,” Johnny said from beside you, trying to control his laughter at your banter with the other members.

“What if I’m not actually her bias?”

Johnny looked at Yuta for a moment before turning to you, his expression questioning.  Yuta sure had stirred the pot with that last statement. There was no way you could get out of this situation without explaining what Yuta meant.  To be fair, the whole reason you had come to practice today was to tell Johnny how you felt, so maybe this wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.  And even though it was because you were being forced to conquer this hurdle, maybe it was finally time for your confession.

“To be honest, Yuta isn’t actually my bias…”  Your words trailed off as you approached what you had wanted to say for months.  “I uh… I guess what I’m trying to say is that, uh… I…” No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get the words out.

“Oh my god (y/n), this is pathetic.  Dude she likes you!  She likes you, Johnny.  She. Likes. You.”

“Yuta what the hell?!” How could he steal this moment from you and blurt it out before you had the chance.  You were totally about to say it.  Yea, totally.  You would have said it if Yuta hadn’t… Probably…

“Watching you guys go back and forth was just painful.  I’m glad Yuta ratted you out,” Ten said as he swung his arm around Yuta in approval.

“I can’t believe this is happening.  I’m so sorry Johnny, I wanted to tell you myself.  I should have never told them how I feel about you!”  You glared at Yuta before turning to look at Johnny, who was staring at Yuta, eyes wide with shock.

“Wait (y/n), we haven’t even got to the best part.”  Jaehyun cheekily raised his eyebrows at Johnny, diverting everyone’s attention to him.

The best part?  The guys had just exposed your biggest secret to Johnny himself.  This situation was anything but good, and now Jaehyun had even more to add?  You couldn’t remember telling them any other juicy secrets of yours – you didn’t have any – so what was it that he had to say now?  

“Jaehyun stop.”

Johnny gave Jaehyun a death glare, shutting him up in an instant.  Johnny suddenly stood up, grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him. Once the two of you were standing, you heard oooo’s and omg hyung’s coming from the other members.  You glanced at them confused, but your attention quickly reverted back to Johnny as he took your other hand, now holding both of yours in his own.  He towered above you, causing you to have to look up at him to make eye contact. Johnny was usually so silly and light-hearted, but in this moment, he was completely serious.   You began to feel nervous under his gaze.

“Johnny, I uh… I wanted to hear what Jaehyun had to say.”

“I know, but I want to be the one to tell you.  Not any of the other guys.”  Johnny took a deep breath before he continued.  “(Y/n), I like you too.  I have for a while now.  I know I seem confident, but I was so sure that you liked Yuta.  I didn’t think I had a chance.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head.  Was this really happening?  Johnny just confessed to you?  Why had you pretended to like Yuta for so long?!  You and Johnny could have already been happily dating.  You began to feel disappointment and self-loathing wash over you, but were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Johnny squeeze your hands tighter.

“I’m sorry my loser members confessed for you before you had the chance, but at least you got to hear my confession from me, right?”  Johnny beamed at you, but not after glaring at his members.  “And now that we know we feel the same, how about I take you out on an official date?  Maybe tomorrow when we finish practice.”

“I would love that Johnny,” you replied without hesitation.  You were slowly coming down from the shock, as excitement took over you.

“Freaking finally.  It’s been painful watching the two of you be so clueless the last few months,” Jaehyun spoke up.  There were times you really wished the kid couldn’t speak English – this was one of those moments.

“You know Jaehyun, since you guys ratted me out to Johnny, I’m not calling you Jeffrey anymore.”

“But it was Yuta who actually told him!  (Y/n), that isn’t fair!”

Johnny put his arms around your shoulders as the two of you sat back down, listening to the room fill with laughter at Jaehyun’s whining.  You loved this, just spending time with the guys.  Sure they were idols, and could be complete idiots sometimes, but they were your friends.  Even if they ruined your special moment today, you were happy to have them in your life.   Plus, at least you and Johnny were finally together. You’d figure out how to get revenge on the others later, but for now, you were satisfied with joining in on their laughter.

Okay so I don’t feel like this is that great, but I really tried~ HOPEFULLY you guys still liked it haha, and thank you for reading regardless.  If you like it, please reblog because it helps a lot!  Sorry it took me longer than usual to put out a fic.  I’ve been busy with school and have some crappy personal stuff going on, but I’m still trying to keep up with it!  If you guys have any requests, please send them in!  I’m sure I’ll have more time over the summer to write :)

[Miraculous Ladybug]: Sweet Deliveries

day 1 and already im like an hour late but fuck it what else is new?

first up is all of the week 1 prompts for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare ! im trying to warm up to nathanael as a character and i’ve also been meaning to push out more mlm in this fandom, so consider this me killing two birds with one stone. hope you enjoy~

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

Prompt: Day 1 - “Wrong Number”
Pairing: Adrinath (Adrien x Nathanael)
Title: Sweet Deliveries
Summary: Wrong Number AU in which a sick Nathanael tries to ask Rose for things to help his cold and calls Adrien instead. Adrien, of course, exceeds all expectations.

Sweet Deliveries

“Are you sure you’re going to be fine taking the bus home?”

Rose was standing on her tippy toes, pressing the backs of her hands to Nathanael’s cheeks and forehead, frowning at the heat that was burning her skin. He smiled weakly — wincing against his sore throat — and zipped his sweatshirt all the way up to his chin. “It’s only a fifteen minute ride. I don’t want maman to have to take time off work just to come get me.”

“You’re running a fever you silly!”

“It’s just a tiny one,” Nathanael assured her, even as he began to feel lightheaded the longer he stayed on his feet. “I’ll rest up for the rest of the day and be back at school tomorrow.”

Rose frowned and gently smacked his elbow. “I better not see you in school tomorrow, Nathanael. I’ll march you right home!”

“It’s already so hard to concentrate in class, I don’t want to miss even more by being absent.”

“Maybe if you put that sketchbook of yours down for more than two minutes at a time….”

Nathanael jutted out his bottom lip and stared at her pitifully while Rose rolled her eyes half-heartedly. “Come on, give me your hand.”

“What for?”

She pulled out a pink pen and scribbled some numbers on the back of his hand. “When is your mother going to be home?”

“Late probably,” Nathanael admitted. “Late shift tonight.”

“Alright. I want you to call me when school finishes and let me know if you need anything,” she explained. “I have soup, medicine, tea, and snacks at my house and I can run them over quick. You only live a few blocks from me so it’s no trouble.”

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Happier (Calum Hood)

A/N: My first imagine for a long long time. I hope you guys like it! Love you all <3


Imagine based on Happier by Ed Sheeran

One month ago Calum lost his best friend, his soulmate. He lost you. At first, it was sort of a mutual decision, but as soon as Calum agreed, he wished he hadn’t. He remembers every word you said to him that night as if it was his favourite song, but he dreads it repeating in his head.


Today had been a long day, the boys had interview after interview and Y/N followed them. “That was hard work,” Luke grunted as he sat in the van that took them back to the tour bus. “Now we have to get ready for tonight.” It was one of the boy’s Chicago shows. Calum instantly wrapped his arm around his girlfriend’s waist. Calum had never been so cuddly with someone before, he couldn’t keep his hands away from her. “You okay?” “I’m okay, thanks.” Y/N smiled weakly. She was tired. They were all tired, touring took a lot out of them. She had seemed quite distant from Calum today, which made him start second guessing if he’d done something to offend her. He was worried, he never wanted to hurt her. Calum’s pink lips planted a kiss on Y/N’s cheek, which helped her bare a small smile. The drive home was quiet, which was unusual. “Hey Y/N, you okay?” Michael asked, leaning over and touching her shoulder, but all she gave him was a nod. Over her head, the boy’s and Calum exchanged mimed words, “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know.”.

As they arrived Y/N went straight to the bathroom, only to overthink things further. Meanwhile, Calum was sitting on the couch, his heart beating as he began to fear you weren’t happy and it might have been his fault. “She’s been really quiet today,” Ashton whispered, making sure that Y/N couldn’t hear them from the next room. “Her and I haven’t spent alone time lately, I’m not sure if that’s why. We’ve just been super busy and I feel horrible about it.” Calum trailed off, his words coming to a halt as you walked out the bathroom.

“Calum, can I speak to you for a moment?” This was one of the only things she managed to say all day. Calum weakly pushed himself off the couch, hating those words. ‘Can I speak to you?’ made Calum run millions of reason through his head, all of them ending in the worst possibilities.

Calum followed you closely outside the tour bus, he could sense Y/N was stressed over something, but he was shut down whenever he asked. “Y/N what’s going on? You haven’t been yourself.” In this moment she took a deep breath, unable to speak what she needed to say. “Calum, this isn’t working. This. Us. Everything.” she whispered, pointing to the tour bus just metres away from them both. Calum stood still, his heart throbbing in pain. “You’re always busy, whether it’s interviews or concerts. I’m not saying it’s not hard for you, but I rarely see you anymore..” His words came out in stutters, but he managed. “This can work Y/N… I’ll make it work! You wait until we get home to Sydney, it’s going to be me and you. I swear, please.” “It can’t Calum and you know it. I love you but this is difficult.”

“I guess this over then?” “I’m sorry Calum..” she leaned on her toes, her lips touching Calum’s for one last time before she left Calum standing there. Calum closed his eyes, only to open them and a tear roll down his cheek. “Mate?” Michael poked his head. Calum said nothing, he just stood in silence. Calum felt as if he was stabbed in the heart. “Come on buddy, don’t want anyone seeing you like this.” Michael smiled, hauling Calum back into the tour bus.


Calum had gotten frequent tweets containing photos of Y/N the day she left. It was of her walking, her handbag in hand, while her makeup was running down her face. And it wasn’t long after that, that news reports surfaced with the same photos, but with the caption ‘Calum Hood and Y/N over?’ 'Just a PR stunt?’.

This lead into the next interview the boys had one week later. Calum was trying so hard to cope, but he felt it was almost impossible. It didn’t help that the man interviewing them had no dignity to leave out questions about Calum and Y/N.

“Now Calum. These photos were posted a few days ago. How you feeling?” Calum wanted to scream, he never understood why people would ask this question just days after the break-up. “I’m not okay. I know it’s not easy living in this situation. I wouldn’t force Y/N to do this forever, I want her to be happy.” “Fans are questioning whether this relationship was a PR stunt?” Calum had enough, he never cried in public, especially during an interview. He lifted his hands to hide his face. “Excuse me.” Calum spat, the sound of his whimpering getting louder.


“Hi, guys! I thought I would post a cover of a new song. Lately, I’ve been relating strongly to this song, so I hope you guys enjoy it.” Calum wasn’t his cheerful, smiley self. He was depressed. “This is Happier by Ed Sheeran.” He whispered, before strumming away at his guitar.

I saw you in another’s arm
Only a month we’ve been apart
You look happier

A few weeks later Calum had finished the tour, he was hoping to come home to Y/N, but he knew she was long gone.He’d been walking a lot, letting the fresh air clear his mind, regardless he still found himself thinking of her. He walked past a park and saw a face he’d been imagining every day, but this time she wasn’t with him. There she stood at the same park her and Calum went on their first date, with another man. Calum was mad, but then remembered the day she left and all he could bare to think was; she looked happier.

Nursing an empty bottle and telling myself
You’re happier, aren’t you? 

As the weeks rolled by, Calum hadn’t gotten better. The boys were worried about him as whenever they’d see him he was holding a bottle, let alone his apartment was trashed with empty ones. “She’s happier Michael.” Calum sniffed, his beer bottle swirling in his hand. “Calum, I’m sure she thinks about you.” “No she doesn’t, I know that already. I screwed up.” he slurred, his words becoming inaudible. After a minute of thinking, Calum’s mind came to the conclusion… Maybe she was still thinking of Calum.

After filming the cover, Calum debated whether he wanted to post it to Youtube and then mention it on Twitter. It was easy to pick that Calum wasn’t in the best state of mind, but it was the only way he could deal with his situation. 

That night Calum finally got what he was waiting for;


Not Alone

Prompt/Summary: This is fic number 10 for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s album challenge.  A bit of fluff

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: none, I can’t remember if there was a curse word. 

Word Count: 655

Author’s Note:   I rewrote this one because it was very angsty and to be perfectly honest, I need all the fluff I can get.  So sorry it is late.  But it means you get two fics from me today. 

Not Alone Video

Album Challenge Master List

Originally posted by dailyteamcap

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Seventeen Mafia Scenario Joshua Part One : “Before and After You”

This is the Mafia Scenario featuring Joshua! I will link Jun - Part One here if you hadn’t checked it out which you should…just saying ;) Okay so hope you like it! <3 Luna

Theme - Mafia, Suspense, angsty, thriller…

Warning - there are references to disappearances 

Prompt - Joshua thought he knew you, there were things however that even you knew you shouldn’t share. Except, secrets have consequences. With the disappearances, you couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay. It was time to go. 

Words - 1220

*Gif made by me* - Also this is in no way real! It’s a scenario/drabble - it is in no way meant to offend anyone! <3 Luna

“I can’t do this anymore!” Y/N bellowed. Your eyes streamed with tears as you hugged your bag closer to your chest. 

Clothes you’d packed up without him knowing, perfume, makeup, and a shirt of his you didn’t want him to know you’d stolen. You had hoped Joshua wouldn’t be back by the time you’d finished grabbing your stuff. How wrong you had been.

Joshua knew he needed to let her go. But, he couldn’t. “Y/N,” he said quietly, taking one step forward. His hand reached for her but she shook her head furiously, tears falling as she stepped back. Joshua’s stomach sank at how vulnerable you had become. He just wanted to hug you, hold you tight…out of everyone in the world he would never hurt you.

“I’d do anything for you. You know that! If you want me to stop, I will!” 

Y/N’s voice caught in her throat as she rubbed her eyes furiously with her sleeves. “I don’t expect you to leave everything for me. This is for the best…please, trust me.” Your words seemed wrong. Practiced. You had never been so blunt with him before. 

“Who got to you?” Joshua asked suddenly as you circled around him trying to dodge his grip but he caught you anyway. 

Y/N couldn’t look at him. Her whole body shuddered violently with tears she was trying so hard to contain. That mere innocent noise you made pricked tears in his own eyes, but he fought them back. He needed to be strong, now more than ever. Especially with the disappearances. “Nobody got to me. Let me go. Please. I can’t see you anymore…I can’t do this anymore.”

You quickly shook him away running for the door. As the door of the apartment slammed shut, Joshua could hear you stifle a cry. It took all his energy not to run after you, but those words had struck him still. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What were you doing with him!?” Y/N’s father snapped throwing the pictures across the dining room table. “Do you understand who he is?! Do you know what that gang has done?” 

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t know what to say. You’re only defence was merely one and you knew your father wouldn’t understand. I love him was childish, it wouldn’t work with him. 

You and Joshua had been so careful hiding everything. With you owning your own place it meant your parents wouldn’t even know you were hardly ever there. Or, that Joshua’s clothes had their own home in your room. You couldn’t look at the pictures. Moments you had cherished had become something else entirely.

“Do you understand by simply being involved with him what could happen to you?” Your father bellowed running his hand furiously through his hair. He still had his uniform on, his police badge on display. A detective. When you were a child he had been your hero, he saved people, protected them from criminals…from people like Joshua. 

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Western Sky

Kim Yongguk / Jin Longguo x OC
Genre: Angst, a bit of fluff

Realizing you have just had several nights of loneliness, you look around your apartment.

“Is this the end?” you thought as you looked back at the window while sitting on the floor next to your bed, with your face on your knees. You’ve been having different thoughts, from happy to sad. From funny, to bad. From the best times of your life, to the worst things you’ve gone through.

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its almost 3am and i just read the words “unpaid interns depress me” and decided that if I’m ever in the place where i have interns they r getting paid. also leave large tips for ur waitress. and be fucking nice to check out clerks they’ve been standing for hours now and your bullshit isn’t really that important. and say thank u to bus drivers. and dont run over bicyclists even tho sometimes they get in the way and kinda suck. and if you have it give a dollar to the homeless person asking for help. hell give them food. or water or whatever you have that you can spare. be fucking nice to each other. the world is too big and too small to be horrid and disgraceful human beings. earth is just a tiny speck in the cosmos but goddamnit its our world. and we should treat it and everyone here with respect and common curtsy*.

*unless you a nazi. we should always punch every nazi in the fucking face. because sometimes nice doesnt stop hatred and you have to fight back.


YOUSEF: You have to drag it towards yourself, not push it away, okay? Because then you don’t have control over the carrot. Drag it towards yourself. Then you turn it over and do the other side.

Ok I need to ramble a bit about this comment from Yousef. As we’ve learned over the seasons Julie never puts anything into a scene that doesn’t mean something deeper in the long run. Yes it appears to just be some innocent flirting over vegetables but if we really look at what he’s saying it connects so much with how Sana interacts with people. Sana often pushes people away that she doesn’t agree with. But a few days later we see her decide to include the Pepsi Max girls in their bus. As Yousef says, if you push people away you don’t have control. If you drag them towards you you’ll have more control. Well he says that about carrots but you get the point. I think it’s similar to the idea “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”. Maybe not the best advice as I think it might get Sana into some trouble but we’ll see where it takes us.

OK now I can cross “write a discourse about carrots” off my to do list.

Translation credit to @skamenglish

so you all know busbus is mostly blind, or something. We’re not entirely sure but he seems to have very little response to visual stimulus unless it’s something like a lit up screen in a dark room or a laser pointer. We’ve noticed he hunts with his ears for moths because once they stop flying he can’t find them.
which means he catches it, kills it, then gets sad.

Anyway when we first brought him home our cats were like, cat body language at him and he would be completely nonresponsive. They got really upset and diva bit him a lot and had huge tantrums about it. He sat too close to her, he was on her stuff, he wouldn’t move out of her way. She hated it. And for him he was just suddenly getting bitten and hit so he was very confused.

within days both dorian and diva began vocalising constantly, little brrrts and mmmms, very softly speaking all the time. Sometimes they would up the volume, but only when bus wasn’t right there. Within a week they had developed a vocal substitute for every one of their body languages, and no more problems.

Dorian has a specific type of sound that he makes when he wants bus to come to him for grooming. Bus has a specific sound he makes when he is lost and both other cats have their own version of the response. Like marco polo except you say your own name.

They have words now for ‘hey look a thing to play with’ so bus can come over and join in on the gecko hunt, or ‘i am playing with a toy and i want company’.

they started making lots of noise sometimes when they run, by hitting the ground hard and also digging their claws into the carpet so bus can hear them and chase them. If Diva is just running somewhere and not playing, she doesn’t make any noise when she does. She also uses this to sneak up on bus which i think is decidedly not fair.

Bus also knows human words too. He knows ‘cheese’ and ‘bread’ and if you mention ham he appears with his nose bright pink licking his lips waiting for his share because he fucking LOVES ham.

anywya, cat language is so versatile and im always just so impressed at how my cats who were already 4 and 6 changed their whole communications system when it turned out that bus couldn’t understadn them. <3

anonymous asked:

based off of the abusive ex ask- how would the us and sf skelebros react to their usually chill/quiet/short s/o being all of a sudden fiercely protective of them? like- if a situation is about to go sour or if someone starts badmouthing the skeles, s/o steps in and starts shouting all these profanities and strongarms the person tf outta the situation. like they say shit thats terrifying by fell standards and start cursing this person up and down and YE AH I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE

OHHHHH SNAP, CRACKLE, POP. Okay, so I tried not to have them all do the same thing for variety. Hope it still fits the ask!

Abusive ex ask is here!

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yourearainbowtoo  asked:

Hi! Prompt for Loki/Jane: "Are they still following us?" (i'm so sorry you've been struggling with depression. Wishing all the best!)

“Are they still following us?”

“I don’t think so. You might have let me teleport us, you know.”

Jane glared at Loki. Their six-block run hadn’t dislodged a hair on his head. She, however, was sweating liberally and had a line of blisters developing on one heel, ready to blow at any second like miniature volcanoes. Because of course she did.

“You know you can’t teleport, not without the All-Father yanking on your leash. That’s big magic for Earth.”

Loki sneered, the same sneer he pulled every time Odin was even alluded to. It was a nice mix of I-smell-dog-shit and I-refuse-to-admit-I-have-limitations-so-how-dare-you-mention-them. Most of Loki’s expressions could be broken down into phrases like this, and Jane was just glad she’d learned how to do so. It was nice to finally have some kind of lexicon when dating a man who seemed to operate on six different levels at a time.

He didn’t reply, so Jane went on.

“Next time I tell you that going somewhere isn’t a good idea, maybe you’ll listen to me,” she grumbled, limping over to a nearby bus stop and pulling off her shoe. Yup, five blisters. Damn it.

Loki joined her on the bench, running one cool finger over her puffy skin. She winced, but the pain was gone in an instant.

Damned if she was gonna thank him for it, though.

“You’re the one who objects to being photographed. Need I remind you that I attempted once to conquer your world? One does not try such a thing and remain shy.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to ham it up for the paparazzi! The first time we were in the news they couldn’t even get my name right, and last time they just called me the ‘god’s girlfriend’. I don’t want that to be my legacy.”

“It shall never be, Jane,” his grip on her ankle tightened, “I swear it.”

She sighed. “I…” it was impossible to articulate her fear when it was this huge amorphous cloud that followed her everywhere, “I can’t crack this thing, Loki. Thanos is hammering at the barrier we’ve put up, but if that breaks…you’ve all trusted me with this huge responsibility, and I can’t…”

She took a breath but it seared her throat and she coughed.

“Jane. Dearest.”

The words were an anchor on her heart, but she was still shaking. Loki enfolded her in him, warm and strong and smelling of good cologne. His body shielded the world from her and she breathed evenly again, though her tears still dripped into the wool of his suit jacket.

“This does not all rest on you. Driving yourself to distraction in that lab will do no one any good. Your mind is too precious to exhaust.”

She sniffled. He conjured a handkerchief and pressed it under her nose. 

“Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she took the handkerchief and blew, stubbornly avoiding his picture-perfect face. God, it was unfair how attractive he was at times. Most of the time. All of the time. Especially when she was usually a piping-hot mess. “Fine. But next time you take me out to dinner, promise me no paparazzi?”

“I will destroy all their cameras myself. An low-level electromagnetic distortion will hardly catch Heimdall’s eye.”

Jane knew she should object to the threat of property damage, but a traitorous smile curled her lips.