#Disclaimer i have never drawn dogs in my life

[rottendecisions]

Do we agree with this message yes or no -💾

[punkinspice]

Rouge headcanons, go!

Oohohohoho yes!!! I love my girl so much and she deserves so much so LETS DO THIS!!!!

(disclaimers: Again like with my Shadow one, I go with the two world theory of Earth and Sonic's planet being different dimensions and have been brought together by chaos energy making the bridge to cross between them very easy. Also, this is mostly inspired and from the future au and fanfic I'm writing where I delve into Rouge's backstory and where she is the main character but hey... THAT'S THE POINT OF HEADCANONS!! mwahahaha let the angst BEGIN)

-Rouge doesn't know her parents are. Her mom was a show-girl at a casino and her dad manipulated her with a lot of empty promises, but quickly proceeded to dump her. Her mom then proceeded to abandon Rouge as a baby with a group of people promising they would take care of her, thinking it would give her a better life than she could offer... it didn't.

-Rouge grew up with said group underground, and they taught her how to fight, stealth and hone in on her abilities. She escaped said group when she was 12 after a lot of things went down (spoilers) and lived the first few months out homeless and stealing things in order to survive.

-A gang of orphan, kid thieves noticed her tenacity of theft and figured they'd take her in as a part of their group. They were the first thing of a family that Rouge had ever known.

-Rouge and the other kids consisted of a cat, (Crystal) dog (Butch) and a pigeon (Simon). They were all themed as a suit of cards due to the fact that they work for a rat who at the time owned Club Rouge.

-Rouge doesn't own Club Rouge, she just lives there. It's a coincidence that she happens to share the same name with it.

-Crystal is the diamond and the oldest and the leader/planner, Butch club and was the brute strength of the group. Simon was spade and was the tech/guy in the chair. Rouge is of course became the heart and was the cute/flirty distraction while everyone else to stole in the background. They taught her a lot about life, and she really loved them.

-The rat who they worked for took them in cause he felt bad for them. He wasn't a necessarily a good person, but cared for them in his own way. While they were a gang, they lived above the casino in a secret room.

-The group split up going their separate ways due to disagreements and changes of leadership with Club Rouge. It left Rouge feeling very abandoned and angry. She is still allowed to live at the club, and uses it as a hideout and a secret gem stash. She has not seen her old gang since.

-Rouge is uncannily able to sense chaos energy and emeralds as naturally as super speed is to Sonic. She is and has always been drawn to chaos energy.

-It is so natural to her that she thinks its normal and everyone else is just as sensitive to chaos energy as she is. Knuckles figured she must have spent the majority of her life in intense meditation like he did in order to have such a mastery over it. It made him very angry and shook to find out that she had in fact not done that. 😂

-Her ability to sense chaos energy so well is partially what leads her to the Master Emerald and Knuckles and then also Shadow.

-Rouge was "hired" by GUN because she got caught trying to steal something from them. GUN recognizing her abilities figured that hey! She's also an alien like these other little weirdos invading our planet, and is used to the same chaos shenanigans that was being messed with on the Ark so it's probably safest to send her into the Ark instead of us humans! Under threat of course...

-Rouge expects everyone to abandon and mistrust her regardless of the help she gives... so she puts a mask on pretending that she doesn't really care. She cares a lot.

-Rouge is actually an incredibly loyal person but due to life events she doesn't allow herself to trust easily, and she has so much love to give... but she's never really been given much opportunity or people to love.

-Shadow was the first person who immediately saw right through her facade and called her out for who she actually was, which shook her to say the least.

-Rouge is so desperate to help Shadow because maybe in a way it can give her hope that if he can find happiness, then maybe she can too.

-Rouge is the only other person alive who knows how to take off Shadow's inhibitors.

-Rouge compensates for deep feelings of worthlessness with being obsessed with "precious" things like gems and treasure. But don't be fooled, she does also genuinely love how beautiful they are.

-Rouge is smart enough and has the chemical and mechanical knowledge to make bombs and grenades. You could say that she's on the same level as Tails, but she doesn't take her genius as seriously. She can't risk being seen as an actual threat and would rather mislead and manipulate in order to get herself out of things.

And once again that's all I can think of at the moment, but man, I just love Rouge so much. She's such a fascinating and underrated character that I need to see more of in the future. There's a lot of depth and pain there underneath the flirty, uncaring nonchalant exterior and I want to see it explored more, especially with her interactions with Team Dark, and everyone else, just to help flesh out further who she is as a person.

Thank you so much for asking bestie!!!

[room-of-lies]

safamapiley dump ples. for the soul

THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME, YOU WILL REGRET IT!

what I'm about to ramble about is majorly based on me and my friends' interpretations, theories and headcanons of these characters and how I imagine they're hypothetical relationship would pan out under the conditions we're presented with in-game! To put it shortly—I don't rly care about canon accuracy or if any of the relationship potential would be somehow ruined by the new chapter coming out, I'm having fun :3

With that little disclaimer outta the way, HI.

Why do I see potential in safamapiley as a polycule?

Well let's start with the fact Maple is a character who's narrative largely revolves around love. The love program is the only thing keeping her from killing Hiyori who well. didn't exactly treat her Well.. Alongside this, Emiri is another character with an implied tragic love life! In ch 3 dialog it's revealed she previously had a fiancé who went mad (I could go on all day about my thoughts on this specific thing and how I imagine their relationship went down but that's a tangent for another day) so it's safe to say either through death or divorce, he is no longer in her life as now she is dedicated to asunaro. Where things differ slightly is with Michiru, while not directly related to something involving relationships, was implied to be easy to convince to join asunaro, essentially having nothing to lose and everything to gain. Implied to be lonely, easy to convince to join something as shady as asunaro.. with those outlooks on life, you have 3 lonely, fucked up women who could all make each other sooooo much worse <3

It's stated that Hiyori considers Emiri to be scary, this line of thinking kinda made me wonder what she might have done to give him this opinion but I like to think she just sorta. hates him honestly! and with this, Maple essentially being doomed to love someone who would never love her back would honestly make Emiri pity her, perhaps even resent Hiyori for his treatment of her since. as someone who was once in love and lost it, seeing someones heart toyed with in this way is rage inducing AND . This is a weaker point but in the sillier media like the anthology comics shes shown to act uncharacteristically sweet to someone like shin… who ppl often draw parallels to maple :3

This brings us to the even more tragic side of things, in particular: Michiru’s involvement in creating technology and her associations with the ais such as rio (and ai-ceiver) with this association, it’s not too far of a stretch to think perhaps she helped in part to create or maintain Maple! Therefore knowingly allowing something she considered living continue to suffer under an unrequited love she had no choice in feeling… and while Michiru can be cruel, we see in the memory machine game end she’ll gladly allow someone to sacrifice their sound mind for her—she IS remorseful! So. Queue her being a bystander, this beautiful killing machine deluded with something she can never have all for the sake of HER company’s game… all in the name of keeping hiyori alive. I love yuri that hurts what can I say <3

A similar sentiment could be drawn to Emiri, though her associations with technology are more focused on the puzzles, executions and death traps (if we consider the silly 4KOMA) and her association with the ais is less of a factor… the most we can see about her thoughts on whether the ais are alive would be how she commands the wrigglers around like they’re her henchmen or attack dogs ehehe…

All this is to say:

there is a genuine argument to be made that both michiru and emiri would be sympathetic to maple, maple might even be appreciated company in asunaro because she’s not a floormaster like them, not a researcher—something almost not associated with asunaros dealings, merely a cog unknowingly turning… on the flip side of this, I think Michiru and emiri would have a much more antagonistic dynamic if you take the fact they were brought into the company under much different circumstances.. that’s not to say they can’t be good company for one another. Emiri would initially see michiru as an easy target, only to possibly unearth her more twisted nature under her emotional guise… as well as Michiru recognising the desperation within Emiri as someone possibly Wanting To Forget Something Terrible That May Have Happened With her Fiancé <3 it’s normal to possibly want to experiment on another woman, only leaving her happy memories, no? I mean, she has nothing left to lose. Much like Michiru herself ^^ two sides of a horrible little coin!

As for scenarios involving all three I particularly enjoy:

Maple still in love program in pre-canon, not understanding the joy she feels when talking with the other two but still trying to get close to them (the guys of asunaro are sooo boring when it comes to what she’s interested in talking abt… at least the women will indulge her and not run off like hiyori). Michiru stewing in guilt every time she talks to maple, wanting to find some way around the love program, while trying to not have a nervous breakdown over emiris incessant teasing and Emiri resigning herself to her fate to never being able to truly get close to Maple, so she may as well enjoy their company (not without a little discomfort at Any mention of His name) as well as teasing Michiru as unlike maple, she Is able to understand her emotions as well as just loving to watch her squirm and possibly lift that miserable little mask of hers to show how truly deranged she is <3

A post canon scenario where Maple gets repaired, slowly having to heal while mourning love that was never within her control while Michiru and Emiri sort of feel conflicted as to how to approach being romantic with her considering how much hiyori effected her... also it takes a while to repair her body so she's monitor-bound for a good while. Emiri is more open to trying to give maple a better example of a relationship (out of spite almost. lmao) but considering she is the way she is.. her attempts are a bit clumsy and sometimes do more bad than good.. while Michiru is more focused on giving Maple the chance to explore outside the facility once her body is repaired, though she worries over her experiencing how harsh the outside world can be (ironic because she literally lived in the DEATH game facility but u get my point) and also emiri and michiru are butting heads over this the entire time while picking up the pieces of what remains of asunaro. this may or may not be the silly little post-game au I've been cooking in my brain for a while now. dw abt it

I feel bad for having gone on so long so I'll cut it here, apawlogies for yapping so much i'm not. normal <3 thank you again for allowing me to be insane for a bit :D

[council-of-beetroot]

Character analysis for Tolys and the theme of gothic romanticism, perhaps.

So I will continue this in a second part probably to discuss themes like Psychological Torment, Sin, Struggles of human nature, the supernatural, etc.

First theme: Nature

So Romanticism came in a time where nature was seen as idealic compared to the rapid urbanization and the modernity of the industrial revolution beginning the late 18th century. Now Gothic Romanticism uses nature to emphasize the grotesque, the dark, the irritational and horrific aspects, that we find ourselves drawn to even if we feel we shouldn't be.

Nature is beautiful in it's creation and destruction. We can't transcribe human morals to nature. And man may see himself as above all living creatures but he too is just one of many of the world's animals and but finds himself in conflict with his reason and his instinct and drive.

Tolys sees himself apart of nature. Having never truly abandoned his pagan roots, nature has remained his idea of divinity. You seek to understand the divine through understanding nature. But that futile task exemplifies human ego that one thinks they could possibly comprehend the nature in its vastness and the divine in it's unknowing.

Rather than fearing nature and natural instincts, Tolys embraces it. Nature is beautiful but terrifying and sometimes there is beauty in that those terrifying forces or destruction.

Acceptance of the unknown

Probably the ultimate unknown is death. The forces of life and death fuel nature and everything that stems from there. Tolys is in an odd position when it comes to death. He doesn't age and could live forever hypothetically, but he knows he is alive purely by chance and has survived purely by chance. He has seen countries rise and fall and nations wiped off the face of the earth and forgotten, after all Tolys was one of many baltic tribes in his youth yet he's one of the few who remains to this day.

(disclaimer I'm not an expert on early Baltic history and am still figuring out my headcanons especially with Prussia.)

I think he and Gilbert in particular have an acceptance of death that I think probably makes others uneasy.

To get the vibes across I always think of the traditions of día de muertos, a celebration of death, and the mix of catholic and indigenous traditions that have survived dispite oppression and destruction and I feel that just fits Tolys surprisingly well.

And it really shows that even when something disappears traces remain. I mean just look at how cultures and groups evolve.

Wolves

Sorry for this over emphasis among nature when that is usually just one of many aspects. (I'm an environmental studies major so it's my fault)

Ooh this goes so well with the the idea of the fascination of the evil, the dark, the outcasts of society etc. Because okay those reading you are so far removed from wolves that you probably just see them as large dogs. Okay, they aren't, and people really didn't like wolves because say one night a pack of wolves kills your entire flock of sheep you're probably going to think those wolves are dicks when your whole livelihood was destroyed. This is why some species of wolf have gone extinct through extermination campaigns. But are the wolves the evil ones? Not necessarily the wolf has three objectives in life

Be wolf

Eat

Make more wolves

You were going to do the same thing to those sheep afterall later before you also have three main objectives in life.

1. Be person

2. Eat

3. Make more peoples

Wolf probably had a family to feed and they saw an all you can eat lamb buffet. You have a family and you would probably go ooh my family needs food to survive, lamb buffet in the same situation.

Are you really much different than the wolf? Are you really much different than the thing you fear and hate?

Tolys gets wolves. Their goals are be wolf, eat make more wolves and and survive, Tolys' are be Tolys, eat, fuck, and survive.

Idk I think it just fits especially in the context of the crusades where his existence is seen as dangerous because he is the unknown, and the unknown is feared.

Tragedy

This is one of those things that really draws me to his character. And it's the fact that he has achieved greatness and he has fallen and claws himself back up knowing full well what he has in his hands now is no guarantee for the future. He is haunted by the horrors of the past because he knows that it's inevitable in the future he will face them again. After all the higher you reach the closer you are to the sword of Damocles hanging above you.

I hope this makes even the tiniest bit of sense and I hope this or the second half is what you were looking for in a response. Sorry for my tangent on wolves, it's what Tolys would want.

[phoenixinthefiles]

Grey-Eyed Susan

Okay, so I wrote this last week but I was a bit... wary of posting it because I didn't want i to seem like pandering. But I wrote it to call more attention to current events

Disclaimer: This is not based on an actual eyewitness account but inspired by one I read about.

I sat in a flower shop one Monday morning, on an assignment I had foolishly determined to be dull.

I would soon come to conclude the opposite.

Perhaps it was because of that fickle “Y” strand in my DNA but, I found myself detaching from the words that smoothly flowed from the florist’s mouth to her smooth face.

She was just as kind as her demeanor led me to believe and the flowers surrounding her from completed arrangements only magnified her beauty.

My attention shifted once more, the movement she made as she trimmed a marigold drawing my attention to the flower clipped to her apron.

“What is the meaning of that one?” I asked, attempting to engage and make my apathy less obvious.

She took the interruption in stride and glanced down at the Marigold in her hand, but I interrupted her before she could make the mistake.

“I’m quite familiar with marigolds love, I was referring to the flower attached to your apron. Is it a dwarf sunflower?”

A crack appeared in her body language, a frown appearing on her face before she wiped it away.

I selfishly,­­­­­­ and perhaps insecurely, assumed my lack of knowledge offended her.

I was mentally preparing an apology when she answered my question.

“It is a Black-eyed Susan. Though it is in the family of sunflowers, it is not one.”

“And what does it represent, this one?” I asked, steering her back to our topic though my mind was more focused on the bland tone paired with the deep emotion she displayed while talking.

It was a stark contrast to her light-hearted mood earlier in our conversation. Her brows were furrowed in a way that seemed sorrowful.

I had thought to liven her commentary, and my interest, by questioning her about her favorite flower. I assumed I was wrong and prepared once again to back track.

“The Victorian meaning is justice. Though that is not my reasoning in bearing it.”

She now sounded bitter and this time her brows furrowed into a sort of grave look. I’m sure that had I been a dog, my ears would have perked at her cynical tone.

“And what is your reasoning in bearing it?” I hoped my curious tone did not offend her.

“It is not connected to the history of Anthology,” She replied.

It would have been courteous to respect her attempt to regain her composure and resume conversation on our original topic.

But I found myself unwilling to do so; I felt drawn to her story like a schoolboy reading his first chapter book.

“Well, your history with Anthology might prove to be more comprehensive.”

By the slight amused tilt of her lips I assumed my story-seeking charm was apparent in my voice.

“It is long, and you may find it interesting, but I am not sure it’s comprehensive,” She replied while she carefully placed the trimmed marigold in the vase.

I watched silently as she refocused her attention on the bouquet in front of her. She toyed with the placement of a white yarrow before she lifted her head and looked me in my eyes.

“Three years ago, I was still living in my home country,” She paused and looked at me expectantly, but I had already concluded she was a foreigner.

The flag hanging high and mighty was the biggest clue; her slight accent was subtle, but I was conscious of it.

She seemed to appreciate my lack of reaction and resumed.

“We had never lived a peaceful life, but nothing could compare to the terror we experienced that year. We were punished for crimes we did not commit and deprived of necessities as if we were beasts.” Her tone was resentful and yet a melancholic smile spread across her face.

She studied the flowers on the table before her for a moment, then added a yellow yarrow to the bouquet. She continued speaking as she positioned it to her liking.

“There was still hope in our family, my sister was expecting a baby after years of failing to conceive. While the rockets raged through the sky above us, we anxiously looked forward to her due date.”

“She was in labor when the hospital was targeted in an airstrike. My little niece had just entered the doctor’s hands when the first bomb hit.”

“They found her shielded beneath that same doctor. Her barely opened eyes were blemished grey by the dust where they should have been brown. Her death certificate was issued before the doctors could fill out a birth certificate. A whole family was murdered, but no ceasefire was called.”

“Many more bloodlines were finished off before the “conflict” ended. We grieved while they mocked us and drove their tanks through our streets, waving their flag proudly. The damages were extensive, the capital city was reduced to rubble.”A lone tear ran down her cheek, and her voice shook.

I was confused, of course I had heard of the “conflict” as it was happening, I never heard this.

“Were they not made to pay reparations?” I asked, I could not think of how they could be a consolation, but it was politically sound at the very least.

She scoffed and plucked the black-eyed Susan from her and placed it gently so that it was surrounded by a cluster of white yarrows.

“They were required to, but of course they found a loophole. So even that small bit of justice was not served.”

“My mother and I planted these black-eyed Susans across our fallen city and we sure to proclaim our meaning in doing so loudly, to any who would listen. We were not given the justice these flowers were meant to represent and wanted the world to know it. We had no international voice, but when their satellites passed over our restored meadows full of these flowers, it was our display of resilience.”

“Still, we were loud in our opposition and stubborn on our stances. We would not allow the countries that contributed to our ruin, cleanse their hands of our blood. They heard us, and they could no longer feign compassion when their citizens were showed the evidence of their ignorance.”

I was shocked into silence when she finished. I prided myself on my knowledge and yet at a time when it was most needed, I did no research.

I protested for her country, but my support ended there. I had great power with my pen and yet I did not exercise it.

“Why did you come here?” I asked, for she seemed so impassioned with patriotism that I found it surprising she did not stay.

“My father,” She replied, “he was wracked with grief and guilt as the last surviving member of his family. There were many stories like his and yet many hadn’t heard them, so we traveled to them. And they had no choice but to hear us.”

“You started this shop to continue to protest through these arrangements.” I commented, though my mind was still reeling.

She smiled softly and nodded, “It is not my only form of resistance, but it is the prettiest. The flowers are beautiful and bright and yet they tell a cruel story. A story I will never stop sharing.”

I do not remember the words I said next, nor do I remember saying any words before leaving that flower shop.

I do, however, vividly remember working tirelessly on that assignment.

It came to fruition in an article published as the start of a series titled "The History of a Country seen through the History of Anthology.” I’ve since learned that every story has a purpose.

Keep speaking out for Palestine

@vhscity

[fandomohana]

Thanks for the tag, @thefreak0fhawkinshigh 🩵

Tag game rules: favorite movie, hobby, animal, character, color, place, season, album, and food.

Disclaimer from me about answers: I have ADHD, and picking favorites of most things is insanely hard. 😅 I have about a gazillion favorites for basically every mood I'm in, so this is not a complete glimpse at me. 😆

Movie: The Greatest Show on Earth. It's the penultimate circus movie, from the 50s, it is sumtuously designed, with an amazing storyline. I was raised in a circus family, my cousin joined the circus at 18, and this movie fired my young imagination for years! Also used the back of our couch as my elephant, and would wrap a blanket around me to initiate the riders in the movie.

Hobby: One? One hobby? 😅 Ummm. Maybe one I don't talk about as much. Gonna go with diamond painting for this. The real answer is my life is basically one giant hobby explosion.

Animal: I am an elephant girl. 🩵🐘 I've loved elephants since I was a kid watching them pull the poles to raise the circus tent. 🩵 Elephants are incredibly smart, tender, loyal to their families, even human members of their families. They're amazing creatures.

Character: Again, I basically have a character for every mood. 😅 Picking one is going to be tough, but I'll go with the one I'm drawn to right now. Chidi Anagonye. Chidi is my soul sibling. He is earnest, anxious, tries so hard to take care of everything and everyone, passionate about his special interests, loyal, protective, I see a lot of me in him.

Color: Easiest question on the list. I love aqua blues. The closer to water color, watery turquoise, blue green, the better. 🩵

Place: That's another really tough one. I'd probably say any place I feel like I can be myself. If I could pick anywhere, at any time in my life, it would be my grandparents farm when I was a kid. Before the house was ransacked after my grandparents left, when it was still steady, warm, clean, and full of love. The woods where I could stream stomp, and dry on my way home. Warm summer nights with the screen door letting the smell of sun warmed earth drift into the small living room, feeding the animals, exploring the barn. Waking up under a handmade quilt, walking the steep spiral steps to the kitchen and finding my dad tying his shoes in the living room while our dog Blondie watched, grandpa blasting the news on the radio, and grandma bustling around the kitchen, they're all gone now, and I'd love to go back to that place.

Season: That's an easy one, I adore fall, or autumn. It's just cool enough to not die of heat, but not too cold to have the windows open. Changing leaves, Halloween, crisp mornings, no bugs harassing me when I'm outside. 🩵

Album: That's a tough one. Florence and the Machine, Ceremonials. Everything she puts out is beautiful, haunting, ethereal, danceable, just the whole spectrum of human experience, in music.

Food: Another tough one. If we're going with what I'd love to have right now, it would be corn dogs from the little food truck about 45 minutes from me. 🤤

P.S. I've never done a moodboard, and I suck at it, so the image is not good. 😅

No pressure tags: @joeysjaskier @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @dndelionkingdom anyone else who sees this and wants to join in. 🩵

Tag game!

tag game rules: favorite: movie, hobby, animal, character, color, place, season, album, food

Thanks for the tag @hxad-ovxr-hxart 🫶

Movie: inglorious basterds. I just love everything about it. Pure perfection. And the only movie I love with Til Schweiger (it's a German thing)

Hobby: writing. Do I need to say more?

Animal: guinea pigs. I'm obsessed with guinea pigs and they are the best thing in my life. Coming home after a hard day of work and hearing their squeaking just makes me happy.

Character: Dustin Henderson, he's just the best.

Color: Viridian, the perfect shade of green.

Place: I'd like to say "everywhere where my dad is", but I gotta say my dad's grave in the middle of a lovely forest.

Season: Halloween - I mean fall/autumn. ��

Album: okay, hear me out. Yes, toxicity AND steal this album are technically two different albums BUT! they are actually the same. The songs on Toxicity are the songs they choose for the finale version, but like always there were more songs they recorded. The songs that didn't made it on to Toxicity were later leaked and the fans loved it, so SOAD eventually decided to release the songs, album named Steal this album (because the songs were 'stolen' online).

Food: flammekueche. In all variations. There's nothing better than flammekueche and don't you dare call it French pizza!

Tagging: @eugeneroehoe @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @violetmiroh @onlyyouexisthere @cody-helix02 (no pressure)

[littlefreya]

Good morning sweets!

How about a lil boost of serotonin if you're up for it? XD

What would a perfect day with Daddy Walker sound like to you? :3

Aww baby, it’s been a busy day and it’s the afternoon by now 😪... but we could all use a serotonin boost anytime.

Summary: A perfect day in rural Italy with the most dangerous CIA agent on earth.

Pairing: Soft!August Walker x Female Reader (No ethnicity or body type description)

Words: 1k

Warning: 18+, smut to heavy fluff. Mentions of oral sex performed on a woman, male masturbation, and bodily fluids. 

A/N: I’ve never been to Italy, but these photos of Henry in Italy make a girl could dream so I tried to be subtle about the descriptions of the village. Tried to keep this short but then I just kept going without even know where I was heading. No beta, I’ll die on my mistake like August Walker falling off a cliff with a hook splitting his head.

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Perfect Day

A brass coloured kiss warms your cheeks through the waving drapes of his window, gently it draws you out from slumber into a reality that might as well be delirium.

Your man, your August, is the bed you lay upon; his fury pecs - your pillow, his vast mountain-arms - the blanket which keeps you protected. Dragging your lids open, you look around, and with a vision still blurry, manage to detect the empty bottle of wine, the many books scattered on the floor and the fire that shyly burns at the mantle.

“Oh.” You hear his drowsy groan, and he shifts below you, arms squeezing you tight into his bare embrace. You hadn’t even realised you are naked before, and now there is pressure amidst your thighs and the stickiness of a dry cocktail made out of your union.

“Did we fall asleep here?...” he drawls, and by his thumb strings a line across your spine.

“It was a busy night,” you retort and lift your head to look into his eyes.

His lips crack into a slanted smirk, and then carefully, he flips you, hovering above you with his hand cradling your cheek. 

“I was too rough for you, angel. You are sore.”

There is remorse in his voice, a tenderness only shared with you. He never asks. He already knows and forever seeks to comfort. You peer deeply into his cosmic gaze, reading into the colourful nebulas and starry constellation written in his eyes before breaking into a smile yourself. 

“I am,” you nod with the scant space of motion he allows, “I like it when you hurt me. It reminds me that I’m yours.”

August’s eyes lit, and he takes your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers deeply before beginning to trail down each region of your naked form. He is all rough bristle, but his lips are soft as precious silks, showering you with love until he reaches the apex of your thighs and unfolds them to his curious tongue.

“Let me kiss it better.”

If by chance you’ve fallen into a dream world, if you died and this is heaven, you don’t ever wish to be reborn.

He feasts on you with the desperation of a vampire hungry for warm blood, and like a victim, in an erotic horror film, you sway and moan unwittingly, breaking as he pulls so many ecstasies from your body you lose control over the pacing of your heart. 

He finishes himself on his knees between your spread legs, his darkening eyes altering from your face to your battered flesh. With a guttural shout, he comes all over your slit, coating it with his creamy milk.

“Shower now? Or head to the village first?” He asks, still heaving from his climax.

“Town, I want to be filthy and covered by your essence.”

“Oh, my nasty angel,” he tuts playfully and then helps you up from the floor.

August’s Alpha Romeo Spider rips through the sunny countryside, speeding up as an act of pure machismo whenever another car passes by. Sated, you twirl a hand in the open air, indulging the breeze blowing onto your face and neck and the squeeze of his fingers around your thigh.

The village nearby is lively that time of day but not too packed. The locals seem to be in both awe and envy of how beautiful the two of you look together; August wears his white fedora and a matching loose shirt while you’re in a lithe floral dress he picked for you on the last visit you had in one of the main cities.

“I’ll get ingredients for dinner. You can wander, but don’t get too far,” he warns with a tone of care and pecks the back of your hand before heading toward the farmers market.

Following the cobblestone path, you descend down the alley, smiling at the residence and shopkeepers who wave their offerings and compliments your appearance. The air is fresh with spring and the different aromas of the region; traditional spices, rosemary and alpine oaks.

Relaxed, you pause and close your eyes, inhaling the false sense of freedom when a peal of yapping and whines stir your attention.

By the corner of the florist, you see them; an old man with a basket full of large pups.

“Aw!” Your entire body softens in an instance, engulfed by a tepid wave of ease. Immediately you stride closer and crouch to pet each one of the five.

“They’re so adorable,” you say to the man, who doesn’t understand a word but still smiles and speaks back in his native tongue.

“What you got there, princess?”

August appears behind you, with two paper-bags full of groceries and a bouquet of pink roses. He stares down at the pups, remaining stoic though you can tell by his glossy blues he is ensnared by the sight of softness as well.

You bite your lip, not saying a word, but August sighs. He already knows what you’re thinking.

“That’s a German Shepherd, sweetness, that’s going to be a big dog.”

“I love big dogs,” you shrug and pout, rolling your upper body as you sway from side to side with your wrist held in your palm. “It will protect me, like you do.”

August shakes his head and sighs again. He looks at the old man and in perfect Italian, asks for the price.

“Which one of them do you want?”

You crouch once again, looking at the lot. The pups all jump to reach you, staring back with their eyes swimming with hope, but out of all, the solely black one that mischievously chews on the edge of the basket is the one you can’t stop smiling at.

The creases in August cheeks deepen as you pick the puppy up and hug him tightly. 

Of course, his angel of light will always be drawn to darkness.

The sun rests upon the horizon as you head home. The breeze now warm and humid with the evening drawing near. You hold the puppy close to your bosom, letting him nibble your index finger while August peers at you from time to time.

“This thing better not pee on the bed,” he warns, though the corner of his lip threatens to give into a smile.

You scrunch your nose and then lean toward him, languidly kissing his stubbly cheek and then resting your head on his broad shoulder.

“I love you, August.”

August’s battle with his mouth immediately wanes. He never says the words back but wraps his arm around you and pulls you near.

You might have to live your life in constant threat of being found by Haunt, but as long as you live by August’s side, every day is the perfect day.

Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker or Mission Impossible. 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

[soramei]

From Resentment (hhj)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader (she/her)

Summary: After a fated meeting involving a cute and fluffy puppy, you found yourself drawn to Hwang Hyunjin: the school prince. Everybody in high school loved him. It was hard not to. Not only was he rich, smart, and athletic, but he was also incredibly kind-hearted.

However, one day seemingly out of the blue, everything that you thought Hyunjin was came crashing down.

Now a freshman in university, you were excited to live out your dreams. That was, until Hyunjin came hurtling back into your life like an uncontrolled meteor. His presence threw a curveball on all your plans, and would eventually change your perspective on everything that you thought you knew.

Genre: studentl!hyunjin au, angst, enemies to lovers

Warnings: cursing, tw puking

Word Count: 8.8k

Masterlist

A/N: Not an Intentional update but a hyunjin oneshot!! disclaimer: no aspect of hyunjins personality here was drawn from real life — irl hyunjin is a ray of sunshine <3

You looked at your math homework, proud that you got all the answers correct. Since it was a slow afternoon at your job today, you had extra time to focus on your homework. The boss at the convenience store you worked at allowed you to have your homework out, as long as it was hidden behind the cash register.

As you stared at the rest of your homework, you started to feel the weight of tenth grade pile up on you. Because it was your first year of high school, you were still trying to adjust to everything; your grades, your teachers, and all the new students walking around the halls.

You stuffed the rest of your homework in your backpack. It was the end of your shift, and you wanted to go home as soon as possible to start with the rest of your studying. Crap. No matter how hard you tried to zip up your backpack, it wouldn’t close. After trying one more time, the zipper tore from your backpack.

You cursed under your breath. You couldn’t afford to buy a new backpack right now.

You had just been able to afford your new school uniform by taking up extra shifts at the convenience store, and you still needed money for your grandmother’s prescriptions. You sighed, annoyed to have another monetary stressor weighing on your shoulders.

Walking outside with your now torn backpack, your eyes widened at the group of boys in front of you. You immediately recognized them from behind.

The school princes. These three seniors were all known for three things: being extremely smart, handsome, and talented.

On the left was Seungmin, and from what you’ve heard, he was the smart and quiet one. He was always helping the teachers, being the class president and all. Any time a girl or a boy needed academic help, Seungmin was there and happy to assist.

The person on the right was Jisung. With his charming and charismatic personality, he had dated tens upon tens of girls in his grade. Just in the last year. It helped that he was really good looking — and also stinkin’ rich. His father was a notorious restaurateur, and with him being the first son, he was basically given unlimited spending rights.

The only person richer than Jisung was the boy in the center of them both: Hwang Hyunjin. This boy was the school prince. The prince of princes. He somehow managed to participate in music clubs, engage in study groups, and captain the soccer team all the while keeping up excellent grades. Every girl that Jisung had dated was said to have been rejected by Hyunjin first. That was his only flaw: he was notoriously cold to any and all romantic confessions.

You followed behind the three princes, staring at your torn up sneakers. You knew you didn’t exist in their world, but even being near three handsome and rich teenage boys made you nervous.

Suddenly, you heard a whimper coming from behind a bush to the left of you. It sounded like a hurt animal.

Worried and curious, you walked over to the bush to see what it was.

It was a puppy. Small and fluffy, it looked up at you with it’s beady black eyes and cried out. His paw was bleeding.

You panicked. Having never seen a hurt puppy before, you had no idea what to do. You called out for help.

“Help!” you cried, hoping that somebody had heard your call for help. You desperately wanted to help this hurt puppy, but you hesitated to touch it, afraid that you would hurt the animal even more.

The puppy howled in pain, making your panic rise. You were about to call out for help again, when you heard somebody running up behind you.

“What is it?” The voice asked.

“I-I don’t know. I just saw this dog here, and-and his paw is bleeding,” you anxiously stuttered.

“Here, let me take a look.”

You heard the voice behind you, so you shuffled over to make room.

It was Hwang Hyunjin. The person that responded to your cry for help was the most popular and well-liked person in the school. You were shocked, a bit intimidated actually, so you silently moved to the side for him. His black hair shone in the sunlight as he bent down to examine the dog.

“Come here, boy,” he chirped. The puppy listened, and started limping to him. “Something hurt you, didn’t it.”

He stood up, picking the puppy up along with him.

“C’mon,” he gestured with his head, “my vet isn’t too far from here actually. We can make it by walking.”

You silently nodded and followed him.

He was right. The walk to the veterinarian clinic, though very awkward, wasn’t too far. The clinic was empty at this time of day, with the receptionist being the only person in the room.

“Hyunjin! Always a pleasure,” the receptionist beamed. It seemed like Hyunjin’s likeability wasn’t only confined to your school. “My, what do we have here?”

“There’s something wrong with his paw,” Hyunjin tried to show the receptionist where the blood was coming from, “is the doctor free right now?”

“As a matter of fact, he is,” the receptionist said whilst checking the schedule. “I’ll take this little boy to the back where he can get prepped for the veterinarian.”

Hyunjin handed the puppy carefully to the receptionist. The receptionist took out a crate for the dog, put him in, and then disappeared through the back door. The two of you were now left alone in the waiting room.

“Uhm,” you coughed, “thank you. I know you probably want to get back to your friends, so you can leave now.”

“No, I’ll stay,” he looked at you and smiled, “those idiots are just playing LOL at the PC room anyways. Plus, I want to see how this little boy turns out.”

You smiled back at him, nodding your head. A few moments of awkward silence passed.

“I’m Hyunjin by the way,” he said.

“I know. I’m Y/n.”

“You’re in your first year, right?” he said, looking at the colour of your uniform.

“Yeah, it’s so hard to get used to though. I’m trying my best with my homework, but I think this school stuff just doesn’t click with me,” you rambled.

“Oh?”

“I want to go into dance. I’ve never been able to afford professional lessons, but I’ve always wanted to go to university for dance. My grandparents said they would let me if my school grades were high.” You didn’t know why you were giving your life story to Hyunjin. He just had this natural charisma that made you want to spill everything to him. It was the way he looked at you with those cat-like eyes.

“I know what you mean. It took me forever to convince my parents for me to major in dance. I got in by early admittance, but I’m sure they still have their reservations about my major.”

“You’re majoring in dance?” you asked, eyes wide.

He smiled. “I’ve loved dancing ever since I could remember. It’s my passion, and truthfully, the only thing I’ve got going for me.”

You were shocked. At school, Hyunjin was known for so many things other than dancing. Hell, you didn’t even know he enjoyed dancing and you thought you’d heard everything about him already.

The two of you chatted for a while longer before the vet came out with the now happy looking dog.

“It seemed like this little guy got into a fight with something, and he got a pretty large gash on his paw. Luckily, it wasn’t bleeding too much so I just gave him some anaesthetic and stitched it right up.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank god he isn’t too hurt.”

“Yes, it’s good that it wasn’t too bad,” the veterinarian agreed. “I’m assuming this is your dog? As soon as you finish with the bill, I can release this little guy and the both of you are ready to go.”

Oh yeah. The bill.

Although you knew you couldn’t afford to pay the vet bill, you didn’t know where this little dog would go if you couldn’t take him home. You did the mental calculations, and if you worked some extra shifts, you could probably be able to pick up the bill today. Buying a new backpack could be saved for another day.

“Sure, where can I pay?” you asked.

“Just over by the receptionist.” The veterinarian pointed.

You walked over to the receptionist, and she handed the bill over to you.

You almost fainted.

Just the anaesthetic and the stitches alone cost over two hundred dollars. This was extremely over your budget, and probably even more than the amount in your savings. You felt uneasy.

“Uhm, actually, I don’t think I can-”

“Do you take cash?”

Hyunjin had interrupted you, walked up to the receptionist, and pulled out his wallet. He peaked over your shoulder and took out a huge wad of cash to hand to the receptionist.

“Hyunjin, you don’t have to,” you begged. You felt bad that this guy you didn’t even know had just offered to cover you for over two hundred dollars.

“Think of it as a good luck gift from a fellow dancer.” He smiled.

That was when it clicked. You didn’t know what clicked, but it just did. It was his smile. It was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled up and how the corners of his lips pinched at the end. You now understood why all the girls at school were in love with him. He was quite literally perfect.

You thanked him profusely, even after the two of you had left the clinic. With the dog in your hand, you walked side by side with Hyunjin.

“So,” he started, “have you thought of a name for this guy yet?”

Oh yeah — he was your dog now. “Hmm, I don’t know yet.”

“What about Coco?”

“Coco?”

“Yeah, let’s see if he likes it.” Hyunjin leaned in and cooed at the little puppy. “Hi, little Coco!”

The puppy’s eyes lit up, and with his tongue stretched out, he started panting.

“I guess he likes it,” Hyunjin smiled. God, his smile could melt all of Antarctica.

“Coco it is.” You poked at Coco’s nose.

Hyunjin was about to say something back to you when his phone buzzed. He took a peak, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “My friends are god awful at games. I swear, they can’t even win one round without me. You’re okay with going home alone?”

He was going to walk you home? Could he be any more perfect?

You nodded your head. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I’ll pay you back for the bill one day.”

“No need,” he winked. “Like I said, it’s a good luck gift. Oh, and you can ask me if you need help with any school work. Anything to help a fellow dancer.”

He waved goodbye, then went running off in the other direction. You held Coco close to you, heart pounding. Although you didn’t want to be like all the other girls who fell for him, you felt like you were already falling for Hyunjin.

-

The next day, you had planned to go shopping for dog supplies after school. After a really long and arduous debate with yourself, you decided to sacrifice all of your savings in order to buy everything that Coco needed. You knew Hyunjin owned a dog himself, so throughout the whole day, you worked up the nerve to ask Hyunjin to come with you.

At the end of last period, you gathered all your stuff from your desk and headed to the soccer field where you knew Hyunjin and his friends would be. Whilst you crossed the field, you noticed Jisung staring at you. You found his stare intimidating, but you tried to brush it off. He then whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear.

“Hi, Hyunjin,” you said anxiously, biting your lip. “Umm, do you want to come with me to shop for Coco?”

He stared at you for a couple seconds, then, a look of disgust appeared on his face. “Why? So you can use my wallet again?”

You stared back at him, wide eyed. Who was this person? It wasn’t the Hyunjin that so graciously helped you out yesterday.

“W-what? No!” you exclaimed. “I-I just wanted your opinion…”

“Sure,” Hyunjin smirked coldly, “opinion my ass.”

“Hyunjin,” tears were pooling in your eyes, “I don’t understand.”

“If you need money so much, here.” He reached in his pocket and turned up a wad of cash, throwing it at your feet. “Just don’t come to me next time. And buy yourself a new pair of shoes while you’re at it.”

You looked down at the money, trying to hold back your tears. Why was Hyunjin being like this? You didn’t understand. His two jockeys beside him didn’t even bother to stop him. As you tried to stop yourself from crying, you felt your sadness turn into rage.

“I don’t need your stupid money,” you said, kicking the cash back to him. “Maybe you can use your daddy’s money to buy yourself a new personality.”

Hyunjin’s two friends tried to hold back their snickers at your words. Hyunjin heard, turned around, and gave them both death stares.

You didn’t bother to listen to whatever he was going to say next and simply stomped away, rage burning inside you. Everything about him was a lie. His charming and charismatic personality, his generosity, his kindness. They were all lies. He really was nothing but a rich, spoiled boy living with his father’s money.

There was rage behind every step you took. Wiping away your tears, you headed to your locker. You didn’t need him anyways; it was better to realize his true personality earlier rather than later. Hands shaking from anger, you dialed the combination to your locker.

“Hey, sorry about what happened earlier.” A voice came from behind you. “He can be a real jerk sometimes.”

It was Jisung. You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to see him either.

“Why didn’t you do anything about it then?” Your voice came out shaky. It was obvious that you had cried.

“Once he starts, there’s no stopping him. It’s usually better to let him finish uninterrupted, or else he will get more mad.”

“Oh,” you said. Your hatred for Hyunjin grew even more.

“I could come with you, though. I don’t know much about dogs, but I can help you carry your bags.”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, no way you can carry everything by yourself.”

You hesitated. “Okay, I guess.”

And so, you left for the pet store with Jisung, still confused about everything that had happened. It was strange with him. He was nice and cracked a joke every now and then, but it was just different from being with Hyunjin. At least he was nice, you thought.

Your trip went well. You managed to buy everything you needed for Coco. In a turn of events, Jisung had actually come in handy as he offered to carry the huge bag of dog food you bought. He even offered to buy you a coffee.

“Thanks for all your help, Jisung.” You stood outside the door of your apartment, smiling at him.

“No problem, gives me an excuse to work out my guns.” He pretended to flex his arms.

You choked back a laugh.

“You should get going now. It’s late,” you said.

“Alright,” he started to leave. “Hey, if you see me in the halls, feel free to say hi.”

You nodded and waved to him as he turned and walked away, remembering his words. Every time you saw Jisung in the school hallways, you gave him a small wave in which he happily returned. However, whenever you saw him walking with Hyunjin, you made sure to purposely avoid them. You didn’t want any negativity in your life.

You kept up the waves, and soon, waves turned to small conversations which soon turned to flirting. By the end of the semester, you and Jisung somehow ended up as a couple. Jisung was polite and sweet, unlike a certain person. With every free moment you had, you hung out with Jisung — all the while avoiding Hyunjin.

The two of you stayed a couple for the rest of Jisung’s senior year. Somehow, the two of you had even kept up your relationship throughout your whole high school experience. It was hard at times as he went to university, but with a lot of effort, you had made your relationship work out. You barely had time to talk with him, but you enjoyed the little time that you did have. Jisung had never even once mentioned Hyunjin when you were together, and with time, you had totally forgotten about that jerk. You weren’t even sure if they were still friends.

You worked hard in school and reaped all the benefits. Your rank had consistently been in the top twenties amongst all the other students, and you even had time to practice your dancing. You remembered the day that you received your acceptance letter from university. Hands shaking, you had barely managed to open the letter all the way before you screamed. You had gotten into university with your dream major: dance.

Because of your excellent grades, you were able to pay a lot of your tuition with scholarship money alone. You hesitantly decided to quit your job at the convenience store to focus on university. Although quitting meant that your bank account would take a big hit, you decided that it would be best in the long run. There was a lot in your savings, and you even had a little extra to buy a new outfit for your first day of school.

Jisung had been busy on the first day of university. He had previously promised to show you around campus, but with him being a no-show, you wandered around by yourself to try to find your classes. You had trouble with the campus map at first, but after walking around for a bit, you were able to find all your classes with ease.

Your first few classes were a snore. Because they were all theory, you had to down two cups of coffee in order to stay awake. Somehow, you managed to take coherent notes despite being bored out of your mind. You just wanted to dance.

The good thing was, after sitting through many classes, your time to dance finally came. Your last class of the day was an introduction to dance course, and you couldn’t wait to go. You wanted to know your teacher, your peers, and most importantly, express yourself.

The dance class was in a studio in the university’s fitness center. It was huge, way bigger than the tiny gym in your high school. Upon entering the studio, you were immediately met with the sight of students, exactly like you, already stretching. You chose a spot in the room and started stretching as well, making good use of your time before the instructor comes in.

After some time, most of the students — including you — had finished stretching and were sitting in silence waiting for the instructor. The door swung open, breaking the silence. The instructor had come in.

“Hello new students,” he said, “welcome to Dance 100. Today, I will go through the curriculum with you as well as introduce your final project.”

The instructor whipped out a projection of the curriculum and started explaining the purpose of the course, what you would be graded on, and how you would be graded. He then read through his class expectations before moving to your final project.

“This final project will act in place of a final exam,” he explained. “You will be required to create a dance that includes everything we’ve learned in class and write an essay explaining all the elements in your dance. It will be worth half your grade.”

The class gasped in surprise. Not only did this project sound extremely difficult for a first year course, but the fact that it was worth half your grade made it borderline unfair.

“I know it might seem difficult, but worry not, you won’t be doing this alone. Every year, the first year dance students get mentored by the third year dance students for the final project. Each student has already been assigned a random mentor which will be introduced this class.”

The whole class murmured, talking amongst themselves and expressing their opinions on this project. It was definitely an interesting project. You hoped that you would be paired with a good mentor that would actually care about how well you did.

There was a knock on the door.

“Ah, this must be them.” Your instructor opened the door and a wave of third years came flooding in. Each one of them had a name tag pinned on their shirts. “Class, these are the third year students.”

You all politely greeted them.

“Now,” the instructor continued, “I will put the class list on the projector, and each of your names will correspond to a third year mentor.”

The instructor put out the list for display. You scanned down the list of names, eventually finding yours. Following the dots to your corresponding mentor, you almost choked on air when you saw yours.

It was Hwang Hyunjin.

You were at a loss for words. Just when you thought he was out of your life forever, the man that was so incredibly mean to you — the man you hated with your whole soul — was now your mentor. Just the thought of being in the same room as him filled you with disgust.

You scanned the sea of third year students, and your eyes immediately found him. He was staring back at you with the same shocked expression that you had on.

He looked different. Not only had he grown taller, but he had lost all his baby fat as well. His hair was different too. It was bleached blond and it almost hit his shoulders. What was the same, however, was his intense stare and his plump lips.

You walked over to him.

“You look different.” His eyes scanned up and down.

“So do you.” You clenched your jaw and sighed. “I guess we have to work together.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said flatly.

“Listen,” you copied his tone, “I’m not excited about this either, but I want to get a good grade for this class. If you don’t wanna help me, just say so and I’ll just work alone on this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he rolled his eyes, “this is part of my grade too. I can’t let you fuck this up for the both of us.”

You rolled your eyes back at him and pressed your lips in a thin line. Ignoring what he said, you asked, “where do we start?”

“Let’s find a time to meet every week.” He pulled out the newest iPad model from his bag. Of course he would have the newest iPad. “I’m busy every day except Saturday, so let’s meet then.”

Way to consider your opinion. He was lucky that you weren’t busy on the weekends.

As Hyunjin worked on sorting his schedule, you took your time to look at how he had changed. With his hair blonde, he looked like a completely different person. You didn’t understand why he kept his hair long though. It kept falling in his eyes.

“Stop staring at me. It’s freaking me out.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t.” You crossed your arms, defending yourself.

“Whatever.” He tucked his hair behind his ear and put his iPad back in his bag. “Don’t be late on Saturday.”

And with that, he left. You looked around the class. Most of the other students were still with their mentors, presumably getting to know each other and discussing the project. You almost wanted to ask your instructor to switch with somebody else, but that would mean passing on the nightmare known as Hwang Hyunjin onto a perfectly innocent person. You had your moments, but you weren’t evil.

The interaction with Hyunjin had left you in a sour mood for the rest of the day. You tried to study, but you were too distracted by the thought of having to work with that monstrosity for a whole semester. It was worth so much of your grade, too. You had just hoped that Hyunjin was as good at dance as he previously told you. You remembered him saying how dance was his passion in life. That was when you still liked him. Who knows, maybe he only said that so he could play you like every other girl he played with.

For the rest of the week, whenever you thought of the dance project, you were filled with dread. You tried to ignore it, and sometimes it worked, but most of the time it kept reappearing in your mind like a virus. The way Hyunjin had infected your mind bothered you to no end.

Time passed fast though, and before you knew it, Saturday had already come. Searching through your closet, you picked out a simple outfit for practice today. You slid on your tattered old sneakers and headed off to the studio that Hyunjin had told you to go to.

Entering the dance studio, you noticed that you were right on time. However, Hyunjin was not. Great… He made such a big deal over you being on time that he himself forgot to be punctual. You sat on the wood floors and started to do some stretches to warm up.

Eventually, after you finished your stretching, he entered the studio. With a girl. Holding a textbook, Hyunjin handed it to the girl and put on his signature deceitful smile. His ugly, perfect smile. The girl batted her eyes and waved her fingers goodbye before strolling out the door. You rolled your eyes at this, feeling bad for the girl. Hyunjin was playing her right in front of her own eyes and she didn’t even realize it.

“Were you really late because of a girl?” you sneered.

“Why do you care?” he retorted, flinging his bag to the corner of the room.

“I don’t.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Not wanting to waste time with that childish banter, you decided to end the conversation then and there. “Okay, well anyways, I’ll show you what I learned in class this week.”

Hooking up your phone to the speaker, you chose the song that you’ve been practicing with for the whole week. As the song progressed, you found it hard to not get lost in the music. Just dancing was the easy part; incorporating everything learned in class was another story. Although it was fairly difficult, you thought you executed everything very well as the song came to an end. Finishing up, you panted from exhaustion and looked at Hyunjin for his comments.

He stood, with his arms crossed across his torso, leaning against the speaker. There was a blank expression on his face.

“Not bad.” He started to walk up to you.

“But?”

“But you’re too stiff. You’re too focused on perfectly executing the technical moves that you forget to just move your body. Do what you did half-way through the song again.”

You turned the music on, trying to do the dance with Hyunjin’s criticisms in mind. Looking in the mirror, you did your best to show as much emotion as possible, all the while moving more fluidly. The room was filled with heavy bass and the squeaks from your sneakers.

Suddenly, the music was abruptly cut off.

Hyunjin had stopped the music and was making his way over, face still unreadable.

“You’re still trying too hard and it shows.” Hyunjin shook his head.

Clenching your jaw, you did your best to hold back your anger. Were you just not supposed to try? This annoyed you. Just because he didn’t need to try to be good at anything didn’t mean you couldn’t.

“Well,” you tried to say calmly, “how can I do this then?”

“You have to relax.” He put one hand on your hip and started to guide you. “Don’t focus on each individual aspect, but try to imagine everything as a whole. Then, things will come naturally.”

You followed his hand, allowing Hyunjin to guide you to his own rhythm. After a while, every movement felt so fluid and you didn’t even notice that your face started to match your movements. Glancing at your reflection, you gasped, noticing how different your dancing looked. You whipped your head to face Hyunjin, the two of your inches apart and breathing heavily.

“See,” he mumbled, looking down at you. “Once you stop thinking, everything just comes naturally.”

You looked back at the person inches away from you. It almost felt as if he was being kind. But you knew the type of person he was. You weren’t going to let this happen again. Snapping out of what weird trance you were in, you pushed him away in an act of self perseverance.

He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll try again,” you said.

Hyunjin strolled over to the speaker and turned on the music. This time, you didn’t think about anything you learned in class or Hyunjin’s criticisms. You just trusted in your body. Everything else was blank.

Taking a step forward while still in your trance, your shoe lost its grip on the floor, causing you to fall right on your knee. You cried in pain, holding on to your knee.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed. He ran over and bent down to your level. “Can you move it?”

“I think so.” You tried to straighten your knee. It hurt, but you were still able to do it. There would most likely be a nasty bruise there the next morning.

“You’re still wearing those scraps that you call shoes? They’re literally coming apart at the seams. This is going to happen again if you don’t get new ones.”

You blushed in embarrassment from his remarks. “I’m not going to spend money on things that I don’t need.”

“Well, you need shoes. Just go buy a new pair later.”

Was he being serious? Or was he just spoiled?

“Hyunjin, not everybody can just go spend money whenever they want,” you loudly sighed. “Unlike you, I need to consider my budget for most things.”

“Well, why can’t you ask your boyfriend to buy it?” he sneered. “Seems like you’re good at doing that.”

How did he know you were still dating Jisung? What did he mean by ‘good at doing that’?

“What?” You crossed your eyebrows. “Do you think I’m with him just for his money? Do I really look like that kind of person to you?”

“You used me for my money,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What?” You couldn’t hear him right.

“Nevermind, rehearsal's over.” He stomped off, leaving you alone in the practice room holding on to your injured knee.

-

You busied yourself with everything and anything you could do over the weekend in order to forget what happened during rehearsal. However, no matter how hard you tried to forget, Hyunjin’s comments on your shoes stuck in your mind like glue.

During your shift at your job, you couldn’t help but keep staring at your worn sneakers. You never paid attention to your shoes before until now. They did the job, so why would you need to buy a new pair? Still, you unconsciously paid attention to every step you took.

On Monday’s dance class, you decided to go early. It was always nice to warm up in a room with other try-hards. They felt less judgemental than the others.

The studio barely had anybody in it this early before class. Everybody was either stretching or had already started going over what was taught last week. Shuffling your way over to your locker, you couldn’t help but compare everybody else’s shoes to your own. You’ve never cared about trivial matters such as shoes, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious as your worn-in sneakers squeaked its way over to the lockers.

Opening your locker, your eyes widened, shocked at what you saw. Inside was a box containing a brand new pair of sneakers. It was an expensive brand as well, a brand that you never thought you would be touching in your life. You turned your head around, scanning the room. Everybody seemed to have been busy with their own thing.

Did somebody put these in your locker by mistake?

Taking the shoes out, you noticed a small slip of paper fly out. You picked up the note.

Keep these. I was a jerk.

You knew who had sent this. It was Hyunjin. You didn’t know what game he was trying to play at, but you weren’t going to fall for it like you did that day in high school. Gingerly putting the shoes back in your locker, you decided to return these back to Hyunjin at your next practice.

-

“No, I gave them to you as a gift.” Hyunjin turned his nose up at you, refusing to take back the shoes.

“Why would you give these to me if you think that I only use people for their money?”

“Because,” he rolled his eyes, “if you’re unable to dance then my grade is screwed as well.”

He made a good point, but you were stubborn. “Still…”

“You know what? Keep it, give it away, sell it, I don’t care. Let’s just start practice.”

After that dance practice, you threw your old shoes in the trash.

-

It was midterm season a month into school. You thought you had gone to hell and back with high school, but this was even worse. Each day consisted of waking up, studying, and going back to sleep. You lived on coffee and toast. It wasn’t much, but it gave you the energy to sit at the library for hours to study.

You didn’t see anybody during the midterm season, Instead, you chose to hermit yourself up at the library for days on end. This meant that, at least for a couple of weeks, your dance practice with Hyunjin was put on hiatus. Not that he minded, of course. He happily deleted the practices from his schedule.

You also didn’t see much of your boyfriend, Jisung. Ever since school started, he seemed to always be missing in action. He would almost never have time to be with you, and with the few moments that he was, it seemed like he was always so apathetic towards you. You brushed this off as stress though, as you finally knew what it was like to experience university exams.

It was a clear and sunny day on the morning you finished your last midterm. Leaving the exam room, you looked up to the sky, basking in the sun. Today was going to be a good day. Not only were you now stress free, but you were also invited to an end-of-midterm party for your dance class tonight. You had never gone to a university party before, so when a classmate asked if you wanted to go, you eagerly accepted.

Wrapping up your dance class, you stood at your locker, gathering the rest of your stuff.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around you.

“Hey, Jisung.” You smiled, turning around to face him.

“You’re done all your midterms?”

“Yup.” You nodded happily.

He took a look at your shoes.

“New shoes?”

You hesitated in answering his question, not knowing where Jisung was with Hyunjin in terms of friendship. It was better to be truthful now rather than apologizing later.

“Hyunjin gave it to me.” You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. Why were you afraid of Jisung’s response?

“Wait, what? Hwang Hyunjin? Like from high school? Y/n, I thought you hated him.”

“I did! And I do,” you tried to explain, “but he had a reason to give me this.”

“Bullshit, Y/n. You’re really gonna believe any reason he pulls out of his ass? I thought you actually matured from high school.”

“Well, you would understand if you were around more often!” you yelled. You knew it was wrong to address other problems and blow this out of proportion, but you couldn’t think straight. Your mind was clouded with anger.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Jisung barked back. “What we’re talking about is how you, no matter how shitty of a person Hyunjin is, keep going back to him! Y/n, all that man does is take. He takes from you and he sure as hell takes everything from me. I won’t let that happen this time.”

When had he taken anything from you? All he had done was give.

“Jisung, let’s end this.”

“You’re right. Let’s cool down and talk later tonight.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I mean, let's end us.”

Jisung looked at you in disgust. “It’s Hyunjin, isn’t it?”

“No,” you vehemently denied, “Jisung, you never have time for me, and the little time we do have together you act like a different person. And now you’re being all possessive just because Hyunjin gave me a gift? I’m sorry, I just don’t see us recovering from this.”

“Fine, whatever.” Jisung turned around. “We’re done. But Y/n, don’t come running back to me when Hyunjin screws you over like he does with everybody.”

After Jisung left, you stomped your foot on the ground, tears pooling in your eyes. It was for the best — breaking up with him. For the past month, you hadn’t been happy with where your relationship was going, but this wasn’t the way you wanted to end an almost three year relationship.

Wiping away your tears, you tried to compose yourself before heading over to the pub. Jisung wasn’t worth the tears.

The walk to the pub wasn’t far as every establishment catered to students was a short walking distance from campus. For your entire walk over, you kept your head down so as to not receive looks from others. The headache from your cries and a blush of anger still lingered with you. Hopefully you’ll look somewhat normal by the time you reach the bar.

Checking your reflection once more in your phone camera, you fixed your hair a bit before going inside.

The bar was filled.

With students from both your dance class and the third year class, there was not an empty corner in sight. The music was loud, but the sounds of chatter coming from the students were louder. The place was dark, with the only source of light coming from very dim, bright blue LEDs.

It was surprising to see everybody in a different setting. You were used to the sight of your classmates being only in sweats and workout clothes, but now that they actually had time to get ready, everybody seemed like a completely different person.

You saw a few of your classmates wave at you, beckoning you over to where they were sitting. As soon as your butt landed on the chair, they spared no time to push a shot glass filled with clear liquor in front of you. You gladly took the drink, wanting to just let go and forget about everything that happened today. Holding back a cough, you scrunched your face as you felt the alcohol burn in your throat. It had been so long since the last time you drank.

After five you stopped counting. Partly because you knew you were going to drink more, but mostly because your head couldn’t even count to five anymore. Scrunching your eyes, you tried to focus on the blurry figure of your classmate complaining about her professor. Bored out of your mind as her mindless babble went on forever, your eyes started roaming around the bar. As your eyes wandered, you noticed somebody behind your classmate staring at you.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Even in your inebriated state of mind, you knew that it was Hyunjin. What other university student had the balls to bleach their whole head blonde? Your eyes met, and he ran a hand through his golden locks. Why do the most beautiful people harbour the most wretched personalities?

You tried to ignore his staring by focusing your attention back on your classmate, but eventually, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was still looking at you.

You saw a girl come up to him. She was the same girl that showed up with him on your first ever practice session. Because of the dimly lit bar and your drunken vision impairment, you had to really squint to make out what was going on. The girl, all smiley and giggly, put her hand on his shoulder, making Hyunjin break his eye contact with you. He smiled at the girl, mouthing words that were drowned out by the music. For some reason, this made you furious. Why was he so nice to everybody else but you? What had you ever done to him to make him hate you so much?

You kept your eyes on the girl, knowing full well that you shouldn’t have. You hated that — even on your night off, even when you had just broken up with your boyfriend — Hyunjin was still in your mind like an unkillable parasite. You hated the way he tucked his hair behind his ears. You hated how the corners of his eyes crinkled up when he smiled at her. You hated him.

You watched as she leaned in and whispered something in his ear, causing him to laugh. That was the last straw. In a drunken haze, you took your phone and bolted out the door, ignoring the concerns of all your classmates. Maybe it had been a mistake breaking up with Jisung. Maybe he really did know what was best for you.

Stumbling out onto the street, you tried to dial Jisung’s phone number. It proved to be too difficult of a task, however, as your drunken fingers could only tap on random numbers on the screen. You cried out of frustration.

“Y/n.”

The voice coming from behind you startled you, causing you to lose your grip on the phone. It dropped on the cement with a loud crack. Tears welled up in your eyes as you bent down to pick up your phone. There was a huge crack right down the middle of the screen.

“You cracked my phone,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“So? It’s not like it’s worth much anyways. Just ask your boyfriend to buy you one.” Hyunjin’s evil eyes squinted down at you.

“Why are you still on about this? Hyunjin, I’ve never used anybody for money and I never will!” You couldn’t control the tears flowing down your face. “Plus, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I broke up with Jisung today.”

You didn’t know why you were spilling your guts to the last man in the world you would trust. Surely, it was the alcohol.

“Y/n.” His tone had completely changed. He almost looked — concerned?

“Whatever, Hyunjin,” you slurred. “Just leave me alone. You can go back to that girl and have your fun with her.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/n, why do you care?” His tone got louder.

“I don’t!” you yelled at him. Your tears made everything even more blurry.

“Y/n! Tell me, why do you care?!” He spat back at you with just as much fury.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. News flash, not everything in the world revolves around you and your rich and prestigious life. Maybe you wouldn’t be so toxic if you would just understand that.” You screamed at him through your sobs. “Also, I don’t know where you got this stupid story of my being a cash whore from, but I will say this one last time: I have worked for everything in my life and I have never and will never use anybody for their money.”

Hyunjin looked back at you, shocked. You stared back at him in disgust. Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, you stumbled down the street to look for a taxi. However, as you wobbled down the pavement, everything became even blurrier than before. You felt nauseous. You couldn’t control it anymore.

You threw up. All over the sidewalk. You couldn’t stop. Every time you thought that it was over, more and more came out. Your throat burned, and it wasn’t just the alcohol.

As you hurled out all the remains of today’s lunch, your hair was held back.

“Get away from me, Hyunjin,” you groaned. You didn’t want him to see you this weak.

“Who else is gonna take care of your drunk ass, idiot,” he mumbled.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

-

It was a blinding white light that woke you up. You groaned, trying to block the light with your forearm. Cracking your neck, you tried to holster yourself up.

You were on a leather couch. Squinting, you surveyed the room you were in. It was clean, spacious. The floor was a white marble — there wasn’t a single speck of dust to be seen. Across from you was an incredibly wide TV with many game consoles scattered around it. You looked behind you. There was a large kitchen island illuminated by warm pendant lights. Sitting at the island, on his laptop, was Hyunjin.

“Wh-what happened to me?”

“You’re the worst fucking drinker I’ve ever seen, that’s what happened.”

You rolled your eyes.

Hyunjin ignored you, standing up and leaving for another room. Less than a minute later, he reappeared with a toothbrush and a roll of toothpaste.

“Go clean up. You look disgusting.”

You snatched the toothbrush from his hands. He pointed over to the bathroom and you trudged your way over. His bathroom was huge, almost bigger than your bedroom at home. You felt as if you were in a hotel.

“Your bathroom is huge.” After washing up, you felt not only cleaner, but more awake. “You’re really living the life with your family’s money, huh.”

Hyunjin sighed, slamming his laptop shut causing you to flinch. “Why, after everything, do you think I’m this rich, pretentious fuck?”

You rolled your eyes. Not this again. “Well, why do you still think I’m this money hungry monster?”

“You really wanna know why, Y/n? It’s because Jisung told me so. He was the one who told me that all those years ago.”

You were shocked. Jisung was the one who told him that? Your ex-boyfriend that you had loved and dated for almost three years? You didn’t want to believe it, you really didn’t, but there was this tiny whisper in the back of your mind telling you that it was true. He had a reason to — Jisung was always going on about how Hyunjin always took from him.

“But Y/n, I-” He stopped mid-sentence.

“You what, Hyunjin?”

He pressed his lips to yours, caressing the back of your head. You were shocked, but almost autonomously, your lips parted feeling the heat of his breath against yours. He pressed his body to yours, running his hand down your waist. His lips, the same lips responsible for his perfect smile, felt so soft against your own. You heard the thuds of his heartbeat as he held you closer.

You broke apart, gasping for breath. The realization of what you had done just hit you.

In a panic, you used your whole strength to push his body away from you. “I-I have to go.”

“Y/n, wait!” Hyunjin called.

You paid him no attention. Instead, you ran across the marble floors, hoisted the front door open, and sprinted out. Hoping that Hyunjin wasn’t following you, found your way outside and took a taxi home.

You sat in silence, trying to process what had just happened. You had just kissed Hyunjin. You had just kissed Hyunjin. Hands shaking, you grasped at the ends of your hair, trying to calm yourself down. Did that just happen?

You were more mad at yourself than at him. How could you have just kissed Hyunjin? You hated him. He was nothing but rude to you, never smiling and always accusing you of things that were clearly lies. He made you feel self conscious, nervous, and everything in between. You hated him.

But he was so sweet on that fateful day in high school. He gave you a new pair of shoes when you had slipped during practice, and he held your hair for you when you were drunk. His hair glistened in the sunlight, his smile made your heart race, and his lips ignited sparks of every colour in the rainbow in your chest.

You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated how fast you became infatuated with him on that day in high school, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, you hated that your feelings haven’t changed ever since. You hated Hwang Hyunjin. You hated that you loved him.

Curling up in your bed, there was no stopping the tears flowing down your face. You cried and cried upon this realization, and you remained this way for the rest of the day. The effect Hyunjin had on you was bigger than you ever expected, and you hated it.

-

At school, you tried to avoid as many people as possible. The kiss you had shared with Hyunjin was plaguing your mind, distracting you and igniting the fire that was your inner turmoil. Even the thought of Hyunjin put a strain in your heart. It was the way his breath fanned over your nose, gently tickling it like a bird’s feather and the soft silk of his blonde locks brushing up against your cheeks.

You shook your head, trying to erase any and every thought of that man. Walking to your locker, you were stopped in your tracks, the dam in your eyes starting to crack. You couldn’t do this today. You turned around to go somewhere else — anywhere else.

“Y/n, wait.”

You sniffed, wiped stray tears from your eyes, and picked up your pace.

“Y/n.” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

“Hyunjin, please, I can’t do this today.”

“Are you… Are you crying?” He touched your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Y/n, why are you crying?”

You shook your head. You were scared of what would happen if you opened your stupid mouth.

“Y/n, please.” Hyunjin begged. His voice was shaking. “Tell me why.”

You shook your head again.

“Y/n, please.” His voice cracked.

“Hyunjin,” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “it’s because I love you. I’ve loved you ever since the first moment you smiled at my pathetic ass. Even when you hurt me more than anyone has hurt me before… I never had a choice, Hyunjin. It’s always been you.”

You tore yourself away from Hyunjin, embarrassed to your core. That was the most humiliating thing you’ve ever done, but at least you had closure now.

“Y/n…”

“No, Hyunjin. You’ve torn me down and humiliated me enough already. What more could you possibly want?” You demanded, aware that everybody around you was staring.

“Y/n,” Hyunjin rasped, “It’s only ever been you. I’ve spent the last three years miserable knowing that you were with someone else. I’ve-I’ve never even been with another girl in the past three years. I know you have no reason to believe me because I was such an ass. I am such an ass. Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for projecting my insecurities on you, I’m sorry for accusing you of things I know you’ve never done, and I’m sorry for anything else I might have fucking done. Y/n, I love you. Please, I don’t fucking deserve it, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

You stared at Hyunjin’s bloodshot eyes, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, and before you could even think, you found yourself pressed against his lips. Your eyes closed, savouring the feeling of his soft lips touching your own. His wet cheek pressed against your own, and with a nudge of the nose, Hyunjin deepend the kiss with a raw passion in which you’ve never felt before.

You cradled his head, relishing in his silken blonde hair as you brushed your fingers through his locks. He sighed in response, his breath tickling against your cheek. You were fully aware that everyone on campus had seen both your messy confessions of love, but you didn’t care. All you could do was replay the moment that Hyunjin had said those words — those three tiny words — over and over in your head as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his soft, honey lips.

[imtryingmybeskar]

Chapter Twelve of In Time. This is the last chapter, all. I'm bowled over by the response this fic has had and thank you all so much for reading and for your wonderful comments.

18+ as ever. A little bit of unprotected PIV, a little oral (M! receiving) a little mild public touching, Pero being an absolute sexy delight. TWs for violence, murder, blood, references to non/con, references to animal cruelty. Maybe there should be one for the They Might Be Giants song that drunk me insisted be put in. Word count - 9867.

Gotta say, Pero can be a little shit sometimes. I adore him.

Disclaimer: I know nothing about gutting fish. I assume it is done nothing like I described. Please forgive.

(PS there will be an Epilogue following this chapter very soon. Like today.)

The silence that fell at your entry into Pero's house was complete, apart from the crackling of the fire in the centre of the room. It looked like you had interrupted what appeared to be some sort of interrogation. Pero was on his knees in front of one of the intruders, the front of his bloodied shirt fisted in the man's hand and his own arms held behind him by the other stranger. The man in front of Pero was lithe and skinny, his fist drawn back in preparation to hit him again. He couldn't have been more than twenty by your estimation. The man holding him was larger and burlier, even more so than Pero, but also noticeably older than the skinny man - late twenties at a guess. Pero groaned as he saw you and made as if to talk but you held his gaze and snapped harshly at him, praying he would trust you enough to follow your lead.

"Speak not, thrall," you hissed, pointing the arrow threateningly at him. Pero's eyes widened, but he remained silent. You dragged your attention back to the other two men, hoping that they wouldn't pick up on how distressed you were by his bloodied lips and bruised eyes. Your eyes flickered between the two of them, their initial shock at your arrival now giving way to lecherous glances over your (to their eyes) barely-clothed body and the air in the room thickened with the promise of further violence. "You will leave this place - my place. And you will leave this servant - my servant. And you will go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and never return." Your voice was calm and measured and low, even as your heart was trembling within your chest.

"Shall I truly?" The skinny man dropped his fist and leered at you some more. "And shall it be you that makes me?"

You smiled coldly and answered with ice in your voice. "Yes. Know you not of the witch that abides here?" There was a flicker, a hesitation in the man's gaze and you pressed your advantage. "Tardis," you intoned. "Australia. Podcast. Plastic. Quasar. Electricity. Triceratops. " You held his gaze as you recited the words he could not hope to understand and ended with a flourish of the arrow in his direction. "That was merely a small spell. For bad luck to dog your steps these next few days. I can call upon far darker magics if you will not leave of your own accord." The skinny man looked nervous. A sheen of sweat had broken out over his brow and if he had been alone, you might have gotten away with it. But as he glanced over at his compatriot, they seemed to draw bravado from each other and when he looked back toward you his face was locked in a sneer once more.

"I have heard of no witch here," he replied. "My friends and I...we had been but moving through the town yonder." He pointed his chin in the general direction of Warwick. "Such a disturbance we found. All were chattering of the Spaniard and his whore who suddenly had such riches to spread." Your heart sank and you mentally kicked yourself. The pepper. The black pepper Pero had used to buy a more comfortable life for you. Of course someone would have noticed something that rare suddenly being brought to market, not once but three times since you had been back here. Of course they would have noted that Pero, despised as he was by the townsfolk, suddenly kept the company of a woman. And of course, when someone has something of value, there is always someone else who wants to take it from them. These men were thieves, but you had no doubt that they would stoop to murder if it meant they got what they wanted. And you had to assume that they hadn't taken too kindly to Pero breaking their friend's neck either. Pero's words suddenly came back to you. "You must concentrate, when all around you is disturbance," and your mind focused and sharpened once more on the deadly game you were playing.

The man let go of Pero's shirt and moved slowly, threateningly toward you and you forced yourself to stand your ground. "I think you are no witch," he said menacingly as he advanced. "I think you are but a weak and feeble woman. And I think I shall take pleasure most great in what you have to offer-"

You pulled your phone from the waistband of your leggings. "Last chance, douche canoe," you said softly and equally as menacingly as you brought up your playlist. The man chuckled lowly but before he could answer, you blasted him with Dethklok at full volume. He stumbled backwards, his eyes wide with shock and fright and clapped his hands over his ears as he tripped over his own feet, landing squarely in the fire and giving a loud shriek of pain before clutching at his friend and dragging him from the house, never to be seen again.

Or that was the plan.

In actual fact, your fingers were so slippery with anxious sweat that your screen moved in a way that you had not anticipated as you pressed it. And while the skinny man did indeed draw back in shock and fright at the noise emanating from the box in your hand, the song you landed upon wasn't quite as...imposing as you had hoped.

"They call me Doctor Worm,

Good morning how are you? I'm Doctor Worm..."

You pressed the small advantage that you had, shining your phone's torch directly into his eyes. He spluttered pitifully and stumbled before you whacked him in the stomach with the chair leg, then brought it up to crack over his skull. Apparently it had already been hard used by being thrown from Pero's house and it broke as you made contact with his head, scattering the splintered pieces around the room. You were briefly aware of a mostly silent struggle going on to your left, Pero having taking his opportunity to attack his captor too. The skinny man straightened to face you, his features twisted by pain and hatred and fear and before he could do anything else you punched him straight in the face. You felt more than heard his nose break, the small house still being filled by the trumpets and drums of the song playing. He staggered back again, roaring with rage and pain into his cupped hand, blood spurting freely from between his fingers. You turned from him to assist Pero in his battle.

His face stopped you in your tracks. You had known him for many months, loved him too, but you now realised that you had not seen all of him. His eyes were blank and devoid of the essence of him as he battered the intruder with his fists. In this moment, he was a soldier fighting for his life, for what he deemed precious, for you, and the bloodied man underneath him was nothing more than an enemy in the frontlines, an obstacle to be overcome. Before you could reflect any further on what you were witnessing, a heavy weight collided with you and knocked you to the floor, the awkward landing driving the air from your lungs.

"No!" Pero bellowed as the man landed a solid fist on your right kidney, his other hand grasping greedily at your clothes. The man he had been beating had the presence of mind to grab at Pero's legs as he desperately tried to reach you, and as Pero tripped he accidentally kicked an object toward you, its deadly silver tip glinting by the light of the fire. The knife. The one that you had spat so harshly at him to keep before you stormed away. Without hesitation you grabbed it and slashed wildly behind you, satisfied at both the grunt of pain and the lessening of the pressure on your back that told you your mark had been met. You slashed again and wriggled out of the man's grasp, staggering to your feet and turning to face him. He was right in front of you. Inches away. His hands bloodied, claw-like and reaching for you, to hurt, to maim, to kill. Your body reacted in defence before your mind could be rational, your hand thrusting away from you as you stepped forward.

It was so easy. It shouldn't have been so easy. Time seemed to slow and then stop completely, the only thing to hint at its passing the sound of your heartbeat and breathing, both of which were now so loud in your ears they had somehow drowned out all other sound. They were currently the only confirmation you had that you were still alive. The man's eyes widened in shock and he suddenly looked even younger than you had first imagined. Just a teenager. Even now, he was still trying to hurt you, his nails scratching at your clothes and skin. You did what you had to. You twisted and pulled up. Just like when you gutted those fish. Just like that. Except the fish didn't try to choke words out, or gush blood over you, or howl in pain. No...not howl. The man in front of you was incapable of making sounds anymore, except for the pitiful gurgling of his life draining from him. He was already dead. He just didn't know it yet. The noise was coming from somewhere else, from the larger man who had finally shoved Pero to one side and was barrelling toward you. You stepped back, desperate to get out of his way, but he was no longer interested in you or Pero and instead he caught the skinny man as he collapsed. A large black stain was spreading rapidly over the younger man's stomach and began to drip on to the earthen floor of Pero's house.

"Thomas!" the older man exclaimed loudly. "Brother!"

You couldn't take your eyes off of them. The older man cradling the younger, rocking him gently and stroking his hair from his face as tenderly as you had ever done to Pero, shushing him when he tried to speak and his voice cracking as he lied and told him all would be well. Your limbs began to shake as the adrenaline that had preserved you began to withdraw. The knife, still slippery with blood almost fell from your grasp until Pero caught it. His other hand came to your face, cradled your jaw and stroked over your cheek as he had done a hundred times before, the only difference this time being that you felt the clear smear of blood he left across your skin. Then he turned, putting his body between you and the men on the ground and he presented his right side to them, the weapon in his hand as he took up a fighting stance. The burly man seemed not to notice as he gathered his brother into his arms and stood, exiting Pero's house at a fast trot and without a backward glance. Pero strode to the door and clutched at it as he watched the man depart, not taking his eyes from him until he was sure he would not turn back again.

You meanwhile had stumbled back against the table, and were desperately trying not to vomit. Your legs were so shaky you thought they might give way, and when you bent over and rested your hands on your knees you did begin to retch at the copper stink of the blood that was all over you. Pero was suddenly in front of you, helping you to straighten and stand, his eyes moving over your face and his own bloodstained hands at your shoulders.

"Coneja," he cooed tenderly. "Look at me." His voice sounded as though it were travelling through water. It was so far away, so muffled by the roar in your ears and the spinning thoughts in your head. He snapped his fingers in front of your face. "Look at me!" he commanded again. You blinked rapidly, trying to get your vision to focus before you did as he said. His dark eyes burned into you with fear and anxiety. "They did not hurt you?" he asked, shortly. You shook your head dumbly. "I must check," he said decisively as he grasped you at your hips. "Sit up on the table and-" But as he tried to lift you up, as he had done easily so many times before, he grunted in pain and faltered and you finally found your voice.

"W-what's wrong, Pero?" you croaked.

"Nothing, it is..." His voice trailed away as he doubled over in pain himself, and clutched at the table.

"Fuck," you hissed. "Let me see."

Reluctantly, as if everything would be okay as long as he didn't acknowledge what had happened, he raised the left side of his shirt and you were finally hit by the realisation that the blood at the bottom of it was his. A jagged wound in his side, just above his hip. Nasty and bleeding steadily. Probably deadly if he didn't get help. Your mind went blissfully blank of all else. Pero. He was the only priority.

"Lean against the table for support," you instructed him. "Don't move." After taking the knife from his loose grasp you went outside and began to cut the fabric away from the corpse that still lay in front of the door. The makeshift bandages didn't look as clean as you would have liked, but it was only a temporary measure. This time you weren't taking "No" for an answer. When you went back inside you held the bundle of rags against Pero's wound. "Hold them there as tight as you can," you barked. "We have to stop the bleeding." You made your preparations to leave, stuffing what possessions of Pero's were not broken into a sack along with your power bank that was mercifully still in its hiding place.

As you made to douse the fire with water from one of the buckets outside, Pero hissed your name. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? We have to go, Pero. You aren't safe. Even if you somehow do survive that wound and don't die of an infection afterward, do you really think that he won't come back here? He will bring the townspeople and they will have their excuse to be rid of you once and for all once they hear the stories of witches and magic and murder." Your voice shook with emotion as you spoke, but your eyes remained dry and you still felt strangely detached from the whole situation. As if you were just a puppet, going through someone else's motions. Keep Pero safe. Get him help. Whatever it takes. Those were your only thoughts now. You could see his mind whirring, trying to find a way out of the trap you had accidentally caught him in. "If you want to come back here after you get help, fine. I can't stop you. And maybe enough time would have passed by then that you'll be safe. But right now, you need a hospital and doctors and medicine that this world can't give to you." The fire was extinguished with a crackling hiss and after you put the bucket down you stepped close to him, so he had no choice but to look at your face. Your eyes bored into his as you spoke with more heartfelt determination than you had ever felt before in your life. "I will not allow you to die. I cannot let you die when I can help you. When I can do something. You understand, don't you? Better than anyone else you understand." Your voice broke on the last plea and finally, the tears came. You stroked his beautiful, battered face and saw the pain of his body and heart in his eyes as you whispered to him. "Please don't...don't make me go through that." He stared at you aghast for a full ten seconds before he gave a hitching half-sob of his own and drew you to him, kissing you fiercely on the forehead with his split and bloody lips.

Dusk was almost night by the time you made it back to the yew. Pero was getting weaker despite your clumsy first aid. He had soaked through the rags that were bundled against him and the occasional droplet of his blood met the earth as you staggered through the woodland, his arm around your shoulders and his body getting heavier as he depended more upon your strength. The corridor seemed more suffocating than ever and you felt almost that you were forcing your way through thick undergrowth made of shadow as you progressed. The sight of your house and garden made you want to cry with happiness and you fumbled with your phone as Pero collapsed to the grass with a groan, praying that the battery would last through the emergency call. It gave up partway through, but not before you had requested an ambulance, told them about the bleeding and given your address.

Getting him up again was extremely difficult and you all but dragged him through your house and out of the front door, sitting him on the kerb as you raced back into the house to grab your keys and lock up. He was slumped over with his head between his legs when you got back to him and you could feel his pulse getting weaker. A sob clawed its way up your gullet as you tried to get him to wake, to be lucid, to stay with you. It was no good. Even when the ambulance thankfully arrived a few minutes later, he did not wake at the sound of the sirens, nor as the paramedics rolled him on to a stretcher and bundled him inside, and he only moaned weakly as they began to work on him - invading his skin with pinpricks and surgical tape and drips.

The next few hours were a nightmare whirl of blue flashing lights and sickly pastel green and pink corridors and tense, interminable waiting. And questions. So many questions. Yes, he had been stabbed. No, you didn't know by whom. No, you didn't know his blood type. No, he wouldn't have patient records. As you gave this last answer you looked the nurse in the eye as you confessed you had given fake names for you both. His eyes had softened in sympathy as he looked over you and told you that this situation wasn't uncommon. At your baffled expression, he explained.

"Sometimes this happens. You don't have to tell me anything of course. But I've seen this enough to know. Where were you sleeping? Under the bridge? Or in the park?" He took your stunned silence at the absolute gift of an excuse he was giving you as confirmation of his suspicions. "People want what others have, especially when they're desperate. Or...even worse, sometimes people do it for fun. Attacking the homeless and filming it. Its disgusting." He laid a hand on your arm and you couldn't bear the kindness in his eyes as he explained that of course, the police had to be notified. But he understood that sometimes they made things worse in this situation. And that he wouldn't confirm a case of stabbing with them until "Alexander" was out of danger. And that he could also arrange for you to have a shower whilst you were here if you chose. You politely declined the offer as you didn't want to stray too far from Pero, the better to help him adjust to the hospital when he woke up. You thanked any deity that might be out there that all your clothes were black and masking the majority of the blood on you.

However, you did take the opportunity to wash your hands and face, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror under the buzzing halogen of the too-bright lights in the bathroom you found you barely recognised yourself. The toll of eating less frequently and with less protein than you were used to, as well as the increased physical exertion had melted fat from your face that you hadn't even realised had been there and you were looking more gaunt than you ever had before. Your hair, bereft of its usual soft treatments and styling products was more straw like than usual and some of it stuck up messily around your head from the scuffle you had been in. Your skin was still a little grimy, even after you had splashed water over it. And the eyes within your face were far more haunted than they had been the last time you had seen your reflection properly like this. At that point you had to look away - the memory of the person you had stabbed and presumably killed far too fresh in your memory.

It was after lunch time before you were allowed to see Pero. The kind nurse came to fetch you and led you to a ward where his bed had been curtained off to protect his privacy. He was sat up, looking extremely awkward and a little pale but thankfully also as grumpy as ever, and he whispered to you that he misliked everything about this place when you bent down to kiss his forehead.

"It smells strange," he grumbled. "And there is forever beeping from these machines and talking all around."

"I know, love, I know," you murmured soothingly. "We will leave as soon as we can. I promise."

You slipped out a few hours later, before the police arrived and after the nurse had delivered a discreet package of antibiotics into your hand and wished you luck. Pero was uncomfortable, but well enough to come home with you. The nurse had informed you that he had been lucky - the wound was nasty but the blade had somehow missed all of his organs and no great damage had been done. The team had patched him up, and given him some blood and some antibiotics. "Recovery now is just about as much rest as he can get," he had said. Given his kindness, you felt quite a lot of guilt at allowing him to believe the lie he had constructed around Pero's admission into A&E. But not nearly enough to tell him the truth.

The twenty minute walk back to your house was slow going and took twice that time, but Pero stubbornly refused to rest along the way, dragging himself slowly through the suburban streets and leaning on you as he needed to. Your heart was ready to burst with relief when you finally entered through the front door.

"Lets get you to bed, Pero," you said gently.

"I wish to shower first," he announced, wincing a little when he spoke.

"Oh you want a shower as soon as you get in now?" you asked teasingly, hoping to relieve some of the tension between you. His eyes flicked down to you and his reply was deadly serious.

"Yes. I wish for a hot shower. And for you to join me if you will." Slightly taken aback by his direct words you smiled your assent and helped him upstairs. "They said I must not get my stitches wet yet," he remarked as he began to strip his layers off, his limbs moving stiffly with pain. "Will you help me wash around my sides and back so I keep the dressing dry?"

"Of course," you replied. "Whatever you need." He thanked you a little awkwardly and seemed to hesitate as he got closer to baring himself to you. "Look, Pero," you sighed. "The door has gone for another month. You're stuck with me again. If you...I mean...our fight. If you don't want us to be together that way anymore then it will be awkward but-"

Pero stopped your words by cupping your face in his hands and tilting your jaw upwards so his lips could meet yours in a kiss as tender and loving as he had ever given you. "Cross words will not stop me loving you, coneja," he murmured. "My hesitation is not because I do not desire you or do not love you. It is because I am ashamed."

"Ashamed? Of what?"

"Of many a thing. We shall talk about it, I promise. But for now-" he drew back from you and held out his arms stiffly. "Please help me with my shirt?"

You had never needed much of an invitation to get Pero naked. Nor yourself when you were with him. His cock stirred and bounced halfway hard when he saw your body, and your own desires were always ready to come to the fore when he was near, but neither of you acted on those feelings. Instead you helped him wash as he requested, ensuring that the dressing over his wound stayed dry. He helped you as well, insisting that he wash your hair for you. You hadn't realised how much you must have touched your hair with your bloody hands, because the grime that was rinsed out was tinged with dark red and it turned your stomach again.

When you were both scrubbed clean and wrapped in fluffy towelling dressing gowns and lying facing each other on your bed, you finally talked out the bizarre events of the day.

"They came almost as soon as you had left," he said. "I was most distracted by our disagreement and they managed to sneak up on me as I fed the chickens." He looked ashamed at being caught out. "I was struck on the back of the head and then they held me down. They didn't even ask me any questions at first. They just hit me. And then they killed my poor chickens in front of me. For sport. To see my helpless anger. And then the one that I eventually killed...he said he would try to find you and-" Pero stopped abruptly and you were glad, neither wanting to hear the threats that had been made against you, nor for him to relive them. He swallowed before continuing his story. "He left, setting off through the woods to try to capture you. The other two began to ask me questions. Where was my money? My valuables? I laughed and said that all I had they could see clearly. They took not kindly to that at all and began to smash and throw everything to look for what they could take. When the third man returned that is when they began to also ask me about you. And when they spoke of you again I flew into a rage that they were not expecting. As I threw him on to the table and snapped his neck, I felt but a mild burning in my side. I suppose that is when he must have stabbed me. They took even less kindly to me killing their companion and...and that is when you arrived. With your clever plan."

You huffed a shaky laugh of disbelief. "It was luck more than clever," you countered. "I meant to play a different song. Something that might really freak them out so they would run away. I didn't mean to-" Your breath grew even more shaky as your mind shied away from your subsequent actions. Pero seemed to understand and stroked your hair softly.

"I am sorry for my anger and my words toward you," he ventured. "I...It...So few have ever cared for me that I still find it hard to believe sometimes that you feel for me as you do. And as I do for you." He stroked his thumb over your cheek. "There is a part of me, a very great part, that knows of your love for me. But there is the small and angry and bitter part that still forever questions what could I do here for such a one as you. It was that part that spoke to you thus. And it is of this that I am ashamed. Of my fear that I am no good man for you in truth, and that you deserve better than I. And that I hurt you with my words, and could ever make you feel that I did not love you."

You held his hand to your cheek, stroking over his knuckles. "Pero, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. You are so good for me and I never want anyone but you." Pero's smile grew wider at your words, even as his eyes became a little watery and you pressed on with what you needed to say. "And I am sorry too. I felt frustrated and upset at the thought that I would have to leave you behind and I behaved stupidly. I know now how it feels to be faced with the decision to leave your home forever. And I don't blame you for not wanting to go. Its a horrible decision to be faced with. You took such good care of me when I was in your time. You always take good care of me. Without you, I wouldn't have survived. I don't belong there. But I know that I love you and that I belong with you. And...I don't know how to reconcile those things-"

Pero shushed you gently and brought you into his embrace. "You do not have to, little coneja," he said softly. "I shall stay." At his words your head jerked up from where it had lain against his chest to look at his face, not daring to believe you had heard him correctly. He huffed a laugh at your wide, pleading eyes and kissed your nose. "I shall stay," he reiterated. "My home is where you are. Nothing else matters half so much." Your chin wobbled ridiculously as you kissed him, but you didn't care. He would stay. He was with you, as it should be. You would build a life here together and take care of each other forever and-

An intrusive thought brushed against the back of your mind. You pushed it away, focusing on the joy that Pero's words had brought you. The thought moved. It snaked blackly through your mind and your veins and squeezed your heart and suddenly the happy tears turned wracking and painful and you buried your face in his shoulder again, trying not to let him see you. But he knew you too well, and held you tight to him as he asked what bothered you.

It was a while before your snuffling sobs allowed you to speak actual words, but when you did your voice was low and shaky. "I...I killed someone today, Pero. Doesn't that change me? Who I am? I killed someone! I'm a murderer and-"

Pero brought your face away from him and cradled it in one large hand as his eyes searched yours. "You defended yourself. You defended me. They invaded our home and would have killed me for what they wanted without a second thought if you had not arrived. You must trust me when I say that you did nothing wrong. And...I know it is no comfort right now, but you must remember also that man died a thousand years ago. Whether or not it was by your hand, he is naught but ashes now and would be so anyway. And remember that I too have killed. Over and over I have killed. I also killed one of their party this day for daring to think of violating you. Does that lessen me in your eyes?" You shook your head as you clutched at his arm, needing the reminder of his strength to anchor you in this moment. "You will learn to live with what happened today. As I have learned to live with my past. And I will be here always to remind you of how good and kind you are and how much joy you bring to my days. I love you. Always. All of the time."

*** *** ***

"Pero...what are you doing?"

Warm breath tickled over your earlobe and one of his hands covered your eyes while the other placed something wrapped in rustling paper on to your lap. "I have bought you a gift, coneja. I am getting into...how did you say? A Christmassy spirit." He pecked you on the cheek before removing his hand from your eyes. You felt him move and suddenly his chin was hooked over the back of the sofa where you were sitting, apparently eager to see what you thought of his present, and he nuzzled into your hair again as he softly urged you to open it. As you discarded the wrapping, the gaudiest Christmas jumper you had ever seen emerged. It was bright green and covered in white glittery snowflakes, with actual silver tinsel and tiny multi coloured baubles hanging from it. That he had bought something like this for you shouldn't have been a surprise. Pero had taken to the modern iteration of Christmas almost instantly. He loved the fairy lights that now hung around your living room, and had insisted on hanging more in your bedroom. Even as you had knelt on the bed to attach them to your bedframe he had stood behind you, his cock hardening against your thigh as he whispered wickedly to you. "I wish to see your beautiful face as I make you come under these lights, coneja." As his hands had already been roving under your clothes at the time, he hadn't had to wait too long to get his wish. He loved the tree, the tinsel, the baubles, the songs, the food, the cheesy Hallmark films, and it delighted you no end to see his face light up with joy as the Advent calendar inched him closer to the big day, chocolate by chocolate.

"Thank you, Pero," you exclaimed. "I love it!" You turned in your seat to kiss him and he smiled knowingly against your lips as you did. "What?" you asked suspiciously, unable to hide your own smile. "What have you done?" His only reply was to grin wider as he stood up with his hands on his hips the better to display himself to you, and your mouth dropped as you took in the splendour. Pero was wearing the tiniest shorts you had ever seen in your life - red with a black buckle printed at the top and white fur trim at the legs. His only other item of clothing was the Santa hat on his head. Since you had been back in your time, he had eaten well and relaxed more and his stomach now had a slight roundness to it that you absolutely adored. You knelt up, and ran your hands over it now, down past the trail of hair to the soft but nevertheless enormous bulge in your eyeline. He crooked a finger under your jaw and tilted your head up to him, his eyes ablaze with mischief and desire.

"I believe now it is time for you to sit on my lap. And tell me what you want for your Christmas presents. And if you have been good I will give you a treat, and if you have been bad then I will give you a trick...wait..."

You giggled at his melding of the two traditions. "From you, my love, I am happy to receive anything you give me." You made a snap decision and pulled his Santa shorts down. "Like this," you murmured as you took his rapidly hardening length into your mouth.

"F-fuck," he whispered as you enclosed him, running your tongue over his tip as you did. "You...you must...fuck," he stuttered and you giggled around his cock at how quickly his air of command had diminished, and pulled off him with a wet sound.

"Oh I'll fuck alright," you murmured, lifting your eyes to meet his. As you went to take him in your mouth again, he pulled back. "Hey!" you protested, "I was enjoying that!"

"Wanton harlot," he growled at you, not bothering to put his now fully stiff cock back into his tiny shorts (not that it would fit in this state anyway, you thought). He came around the sofa and sat, pulling at you to move across on to his lap.

"Are we doing insults from your time, now?" you teased.

"Thot!" he announced, and you grimaced.

"I should never have told you what that meant! Go back to harlot," you requested, kissing his nose. "Or strumpet. I like strumpet."

"I too like you being a strumpet," he teased, his hands already busy undoing the button of your jeans.

"To be fair, I'm not the one wearing THE tiniest shorts in the world right now!"

He pulled you closer to him, rutting softly against your thigh as he kissed you.

"Are you ever going to tell me what you would like for your presents?" he murmured against your lips.

"Just you," you murmured back. "Always, you."

"You already have me, coneja. Most completely." You broke your kiss only long enough for him to sweep your t shirt from your body before you were on him again, hungry for the taste of his mouth on yours, the tiny details of his touch - the tickle of his moustache on your own upper lip, the way he groaned when you ran your hands through the downy curls at the nape of his neck. the way his fingers massaged your flesh as they moved over your skin as if he was trying to knead you pliant under him, his tendency to nuzzle your nose and nibble your jaw in between kisses because his mouth needed to be in contact with you at all times. When you pulled away and stood he made a tiny noise of disquiet and longing before you stripped away your jeans, socks and underwear in a few fumbling movements and he fell silent again at the sight of your naked form before him.

"And what would you like for Christmas?" you asked coquettishly, choosing to straddle him this time instead of sitting on his lap. As the heat of you brushed against his cock he gave a low rumbling noise of delighted anticipation.

"I am the one who should ask you these things. Am I not the one with the hat?!" he smiled as he resumed nuzzling your face with his nose. "But yes, there is a thing I much desire. A delicious treat. Something so rarely indulged." His voice had gone almost as deep as you had ever heard it, and it perked your nipples and set your mind into overdrive. "I should very much like another of those chocolate filled calendars if I may," he concluded and you couldn't suppress the laugh that welled from you.

"I'll make you a deal," you offered, capturing his stubbled chin in your hand and feasting your eyes on his mischievous eyes and cheeky grin. "I'll buy you another advent calendar if you make me a promise."

"Anything, mi amor." You took him in your other hand and began to sink slowly, achingly slowly over him. His hands clutched at the meat of your thigh, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the feelings you were stoking and he tipped his head back with a throaty moan and closed his eyes, the crease between them deepening as he lost himself in the pleasure of you.

Your own breath came shakily and you struggled to control the trembly feeling in your thighs at the sensation of him filling you so completely, your voice somehow still without tremors as you spoke again.

"I need you to fuck me, Pero. Fuck me hard. Fuck me every way you want to fuck me."

He seemed to think that was a good deal.

After indulging in each other you lay with him on the sofa, his arm around you as your head rested on his chest, hearing the steady thrum of his heart under your ear. The soft blanket that you curled up under to watch films together was thrown haphazardly over your bodies and covering nothing very much. Fingers trailed over his chest, where a sheen of sweat from his exertions lay, and down to the coarse hair at his groin, where you stroked over it and over his soft cock, delighting in the tickle of the hair and of his velvety skin, now slightly sticky with your combined release. He raised a lazy eyebrow at you, hummed, and spoke in a lecturing sort of way.

"Coneja, you know what happens if you insist to stroke me there. A man must rest some of the time!" You smiled and raised yourself up on your elbow, the better to look over his beautiful features.

"I love you, Pero. Mi amor."

He smiled tenderly up at you, his hand capturing yours to cease its wandering and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "And I you, my little rabbit." He suddenly looked a little uncertain, a brief frown creased his forehead, and then he seemed to come to some sort of decision. "I have another surprise for you. We must take the bus to Warwick for it. Can we go now?"

His preparations for your trip to the town were...intriguing. He wouldn't allow you to see what he was collecting from the shed or the kitchen and when he finally announced that he was ready, he had a big black duffel bag slung over his shoulder. After you disembarked from the bus, he strode with purpose toward the castle and stood with his back to the gatehouse, his eyes searching first the ground, then the treeline and for the river that ran alongside the massive stone walls. When you asked if he could help him with what he was doing he shook his head. "I just need you near, coneja. To um...to look out for me."

"Look out for what? Pero, what's-"

But he had apparently found what his eyes were searching for and he began moving slowly and carefully forwards, his steps odd and measured, as if he was walking a tightrope across the dried up moat, instead of a bridge. He ignored the winding gravel path ahead of him and instead walked forward into the copse of trees that bordered both the castle and the river, never taking his eyes off whatever was ahead of him that he was so intently focused on. As you walked alongside him, you could hear him muttering something that sounded very much like a tally of numbers in Spanish. He would stop his slow progress occasionally, looking all around and then continuing on his path. There were not many people around - given how close it was to Christmas you imagined that they were most likely sensibly avoiding the icy wind at home, or in the more modern part of town doing their Christmas shopping. It was only mid-afternoon, but the light was already beginning to fail by the time Pero stopped next to a monstrous oak tree and dropped the duffel bag to the ground, grinning widely at you. His face was so adorably excited that you couldn't help your answering smile, even though you were slightly trepidatious at his plans.

"What are you up to, mister?" you asked him lovingly.

He smiled even more. "Now," he said, opening the duffel bag and removing the shovel inside with a flourish. "I dig."

Despite your spluttering protestations about how you were pretty sure this was private land and he really wasn't allowed to dig up any part of it he liked, Pero did just that, instructing you again to be his look out as he broke the ground beneath him. It was lucky, you mused, that the forecast frost and snow had not yet materialised and that he could dig at all. Pero made a small hole, right up against the tree and began scooping the earth away, first with his shovel and then with his hands. Eventually he seemed to be satisfied that he had gone far enough and he asked to borrow your phone, shining the light of your torch into the hole he had made before reaching right under the tree, into the tangle of roots that nested under the soil. He grimaced as his hands presumably came into contact with something unpleasant within and he tugged hard until whatever he was groping for came free and his smile reasserted itself once more.

The object was reasonably large, perhaps seven inches in length but as it was currently black with dirt you couldn't see much more than that. As he moved his hands over it, bits and pieces seemed to fall apart and away until suddenly there was a gleam of something underneath. Before you see what it was, or ask him yourself he wrapped it in a tea towel and placed it into the duffel bag with tender care, then stood and dusted his hands off before shovelling the earth back around the oak and returning the tool to the bag too. Your curiosity was burning madly within you, but all of the questions you fired at him were met with "I will show you when we are home" and a kiss on your forehead.

The ride home had never been so interminably long. It seemed like every traffic light you approached turned red and then stayed that way for three times as long as it usually did, every bus stop had a stream of people wanting to get on and off and when the bus parked up to switch drivers you groaned out loud.

Pero chuckled. "I have rarely seen you so impatient." He leaned close, so that only you could hear his next whispered words. "Only when I tease you, hmm?" As he said the word 'tease' he ran his large, warm hand up your thigh, making you wriggle in your seat all the more.

"That isn't helping!" you whispered back.

"No?" he asked. "Is it not a good distraction from your puzzling mind?" His hand had somehow gone up inside your coat and was nestled against your stomach, his long fingers taking advantage of being hidden by brushing over your breasts with a ghost-like touch. He nuzzled his nose against the shell of your ear, his moustache tickling you in a way that he knew you loved. He was right. Suddenly what was in the bag was secondary to the feelings that were stirring in your underwear and the distinct slickness gathering between your legs, and a part of you made a note that you were definitely going to return this teasing favour sooner rather than later.

When you finally got home, Pero begged your indulgence for a little while longer and he bade you sit on the sofa while he went to the kitchen. When he emerged several minutes later, it was with the object wrapped in a fresh tea towel and he was drying it as he sat next to you. He placed it on your coffee table, still wrapped up and took your hands in his.

"Coneja, mi amor," he began. "When last I went back to my own time, we were apart for many weeks before I fell ill and you found me. In truth, I know where I picked up my sickness. In the weeks after you left, my heart was so heavy without you. I moped and I cursed and my mood was most foul and black. I knew you should come back to me, but I knew not when and so I began to form a plan, the seed of which had been in my mind for many weeks while I lived with you here. I hired a horse and travelled for a week to London, there to conduct some business. By the time I was almost home again, my head was aching, my nose sore, and my lungs wheezing. I brought the horse back to his owner and I consulted the drawings I had made oh so sneakily from the inntoonet when you were not looking. One of the skills I learned during my time soldiering was how to study somewhere, map it carefully and put that knowledge on to the real life place. It is more difficult when you must account for time as well as space, but as you saw today that I was most successful, even through my illness." He gave a proud grin at your dawning realisation.

"So...you buried that...whatever it is. You buried it then and dug it up now. How did you know it would survive all this time?!"

"I did not. Who can know things such as that? But I had faith and I did my best to make it as safe as I could. The oak that I chose was barely more than a sapling when I dug at its base. I chose a tree that I could see clear on the pictures of the castle in this time. A big, ancient tree that would serve as a marker and protector, and that I knew would still be here now because...well I could see it was so!"

"So...what was it? What did you bury?"

"Ah we are coming to that, now." He took the object from the table and removed the tea towel from around it, revealing something you recalled quite well. It was scratched, slightly cracked, and holey and battered around the top, but you could recognise it as the screw topped honey jar that you had reluctantly let Pero take with him back to his time. Whatever was contained within it was still hidden from your eyes - all you could see was some dark fabric inside. "In my sadness, I ate far too much of my honey in the first few days after you had gone," he confessed wryly. "But I thought this might make a good container for something else and so put what little I had not ate into the pot you first gave to me and cleaned this jar and filled it with sacking, linen, anything that might cushion it and stop it from breaking. I also covered the outside with sacking too so that if anyone were to dig too close, they would think it more soil. And I confess that I took a plastic covering back with me from here. And I used that to also protect what was inside-"

"Pero, please!" you said, a little frantically. "What is inside the jar?!"

He grinned at your desperate tone, but didn't tease you any longer. The screw top scraped horribly as he opened the jar but it still just about functioned, and he withdrew a bundle of dark cotton that revealed itself to be one of his t shirts as he undid it. He began to speak casually again as he worked. "I wished to make sure all was well inside, so I re-wrapped all while I was in the kitchen-"

"PERO!"

His grin grew wider at your exasperation and he gently took a clear plastic food bag from the depths of the t shirt. He opened the food bag and so, so softly tumbled its contents on to the soft black cotton cushion below. The glint of so much gold was startling to your eyes and you stifled a gasp as your eyes roved over the treasures in front of you. Rings, with stones of azure blue, or ruby red or deepest green gracing their centres. A necklace with teardrop pearls and inlaid amber. Silver and gold bangles and bracelets. And coins. So many coins of so many colours. The gold shone buttery and bright, and you realised that you had never seen it in such a pure form before. Well, not outside of a museum anyway. Your eyes were wide and your mouth slack as you looked up at Pero, while his eyes danced with glee at your stunned expression.

"I asked myself many a time - what could I do to earn my keep, to contribute in this time? I knew I did not want to be a soldier anymore because I wish to stay near to you all of my life. And I grow older now. I do not wish to work as a carpenter or a farmer or anything which should make my back worse than it is! And when you gifted me the black pepper, finally I knew it. I could turn your gift, that is so common now, into something precious and rare for us here. These works that I commanded of the craftsmen were the business that I conducted in London."

"Pero," you said weakly. "I...this...this is so much. This is too much-"

"No, mi amor. For what I feel for you, everything you have done for me, the times you have saved me. It is not enough, still. But it is a start." And before you could protest any further he leant into you, his broad body covering you and moving you back to lie against the sofa as his lips caressed yours and his hands drifted down over your curves.

*** *** ***

The local museums and historical societies, as well as Medieval historians around the world were astounded at the excellent condition of the haul that had been discovered almost within the grounds of Warwick Castle, and speculation was rife about who might have buried it and to whom it had belonged. Pero refused any spotlight, or to take credit for the "discovery", so it was left to you to come up with a story, and all agreed that it was most wonderful luck that an amateur metal detectorist had discovered something so valuable on one of her first forays into the hobby. Some pieces went to museums, some to private collections and when you checked your bank balance after each transaction the numbers you were faced with seemed totally unreal. You insisted upon Pero becoming a documented person in your time, so that he might have a bank account of his own to share in the fortune, and he grumbled and muttered his displeasure at having to spend money on "stupid bits of paper" as he deemed them.

"You need a birth certificate, Pero. And a passport if we're going to go abroad for our honeymoon."

At the last word his brow cleared of its grumpy frown and he smiled instead as he caught you up in his arms. "Si, mi amor. I will collect all the little bits of paper you want me to if it means we may be wed soon."

"Are you sure you don't just want to go on an aeroplane at last?"

He looked mortally wounded at the suggestion, and then chuckled. "Si, perhaps. Perhaps it is only that I am interested in." He hoisted you against him and you gave a noise of surprise as he backed you against the wall, pinning you with his body. It was purely instinctual that you wrapped your legs around his waist, and pure delight at the feeling of him harden against your thigh. "Perhaps I am suddenly mad and care not to have you like this for the rest of our days," he murmured, letting his lips trail down your neck and over the swell of your breast, kissing and nibbling over your skin. "Perhaps all else is more important than you, here, like this..." His words were muffled into nonsense against your skin, but as he fumbled himself free and pressed your underwear to one side and pushed himself inside of you he still managed to mutter about how much he loved the noises you made when he fucked you. At the feeling of the delicious drag and slide of him within, the trails of his fingertips over your skin, the caress of his tongue over your nipple - you couldn't help but to make them with abandon.

*** *** ***

Despite his insistence that he didn't wish to engage in any work that caused his back grief, he took over stewardship of your garden and it was not without a little envy that you saw how it truly came alive under his touch. He revelled in the notion of growing things for the beauty of them, instead of to survive and by the time summer had rolled around again, the fantastical colours of the dahlias, clematis, lillies, delphiniums and fuschias as well as the heady scents of the roses, irises and honeysuckle that bloomed wildly in the small space had become the talk of the terrace. So much so that the lady who lived six doors down and owned the snappish Pomeranian asked one day if he would mind taking a look at her begonias, as she simply couldn't get them to flourish. He did so and she paid him handsomely in endless tea and Victoria sponge. An elderly friend of hers who lived a mile away and owned a similarly tempered Chihuahua paid him actual money for dealing with some ivy that was starting to encroach on her neighbour's side of the fence. The man two doors away asked if he wouldn't mind teaching his six year old about how to properly care for the spider plant that he had gotten from his school's summer fair and had no idea what to do with. Pero himself blossomed under the sun of the attention, under these new friendships such as he had so seldom had in his life. The only people who ever mentioned his scar were the small boys next door, and Pero took great pleasure in making up new and increasingly exaggerated stories each time they asked him how he had acquired it.

People talked, word spread. And soon Pero's skills were much in demand again, this time for sowing life rather than dealing death. You helped him to keep track of his appointments and the money he spent on tools and materials. He would have done it all for free, and he still helped with the small jobs around the neighbourhood for no more payment than a hot drink and a sweet treat, but when people from the next town over started seeking his help too you insisted that he at least cover his basic costs.

The work spiralled beyond what either of you had ever dreamed, and before long you realised that you were running a business together and more, that you could afford to quit your own dull work to spend more time with Pero and to help him with his. So you did. You spent your days in the outdoors, in sunshine or sweet summer rain, or crisp autumnal breezes and you were thankful in every single moment that you were beside the strength and beauty of the man that you adored. The life that you made - that you shared - a perfect mix of the delights of his time and the delights of yours.

Epilogue

Taglist: @mishasminion360 @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @midwesternwitchery @cosmicbreathe @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @shayna-winchester @toomanystoriessolittletime

[duskkodesh]

Top ten worst artist’s versions of Morbius

Okay, one disclaimer first, obviously this is my opinion and my opinion only. I’m sorry if an artist you like makes it on the list but they deserved it *Coughs*. Also this is just the comics. Not including other media here, so don’t worry that stupid Spider-Man run game app version won’t be in this list to give you nightmares. Also because this is comics this will ONLY be 616 appearances that I find horrendous. So without further ado...

10: This is Peter Parker Spider-Man 78,  art credited as by John Romita Jr. Yes, I’m already going to get hate. He’s a good artist but Jesus Christ on a cracker look at this.

THIS is the version of Morb I hated because he looks like a WWE wrestler. He’s huge! He’s a bloody boulder! His clothes are always too shiny and they are ripped all over. Look, I just hate it. The man can draw great superheroes just never draw Morbius like this again. This is a oil tanker in human form with fangs. 

9: Jackson Guice. AKA the artist for Doctor Strange #10.

Look, I LIKE ugly. I really do but Morb isn’t supposed to look like a general plague victim. This guy looks more like a zombie than zombie Morbius does. Desiccated inbreed dog version Morbius, I hate it. He needs to be put down. 

8: Paul Gulacy, Adventures into Fear #20. I said in my AIF review that Paul was not my fave artist. What I really mean is the art... it’s terrible. 

That speech bubble is my reaction entirely. Look, I can deal with the face but again, too buff and this man cannot foreshorten limbs to save his life. Morb looks mangled and wrong on like every page of this comic. My least liked classic Morbius.

7: Look, I hate to do this but... Jackson Guice is on here twice because he amended his style from Doctor Strange# 10 to Doctor Strange #14 but uhhhh...

I like this LESS. Goth dandelion looking MFer. This Morb listens to the Cure and cries. Entomological damn eyes. I hate it. I promise this is the only artist on this list twice and it is ONLY because his style changed so much in four issues. 

6: AKA Marvel Comics Presents 144 AKA M.C. Wyman *Dodges a brick* I’m sorry okay!? But this is freaking terrible! LOOK AT HIM!

I LOATHE it. The over shading, the warped features. This is demon Morb most of this issue so he gets a slight pass. That’s the only reason this art isn’t higher up this list of dread.

5: Morbius #16 Isaac Cordova. This pains me but this deserves this slot.

I hate it. This is demon Morb here and yes, at the end of the issue it gets just a little better but holy hell do I hate looking at this. There’s no detail in this art, too much shading, crappy backgrounds. It’s only saving grace is there exists worse art.

4: Now we’re getting into the REALLY bad art and it breaks my heart to put Morbius #25 in here because it also houses a short story at the back that is one of my favorite story/art combos ever, but THIS, This Craig Gilmore art...

THIS Craig Gilmore art... I am seething. This is objectively bad. The art loses all fine detail. The backgrounds suck, the way he draws women is a joke. Fabric with no folds, crappy shading. I could go on for houuurs. I hate it. I think it’s a big contributing factor to the comic getting axed so fast after this change though they did shuffle around the artists the last few issues which sadly brings me to...

3: Morbius #31, art by Fabio Laguna. 

Look, other artists wound up here for making Morb incomprehensibly ugly. THIS artist is here for making him Clark Kent. He’s super buff, all the women in this issue are drawn super-sexy and all T+A. Proportion is lost on this guy he just makes shit up. This is so bad I have to post a second sample. This one is from the next issue.

I’d show you how he draws women but ya’ll can just look up any porn magazine and there you go. 

2: TODD MCFARLANE YOU HAD THIS COMING TO YOU.

I despise his art. I hate how his capes take on sentience. His webbing looks like barbed wire, every damn guy he draws looks contagious! Jawbones don’t work like that!!! Gritty grimdark pig nosed Morbius. Tiny eyed untrustable armhair covered sewer urchin. Old mop haired snub-nosed pitbull. UGGGGH.

For years Mcfarlane was the absolute top of my most hated list because of Spider-Man #13-14. Because of this art. There’s only one worse artist on here.

1! Spectacular Spider-Man vol 2 #14 Paolo Rivera. No. No no no. I don’t know how such a good artists did this to our boi.

The writing is even completely OOC for this. For the longest time I assured myself this had to be someone POSING as Morbius. This cannot be him. Didn’t act like him, didn’t speak like him, and CERTAINLY did NOT look like him. Hairless grubby tights-clad nosferatu twink. THAT is slenderman. It’s like the artist was just told “LOL draw a vampire but poorly.”

Also not forgiving Spidey for that really offensive wise-crack there. So it goes that I would not trust one of the best artists, Paolo Rivera, with drawing Morbius EVER again!!! AGH I’m enraged now. I need to go look at good art and calm down. Hope you guys enjoyed the list!

[mloutd2511]

Blog Post #1 -- Meg Lastoria

*DISCLAIMER: THIS BLOG WAS CREATED FOR OUTD 2511, LAKEHEAD UNIVERSITY. THE OPTIONS EXPRESSED HERE ARE MY OWN IDEAS AND NOT THOSE OF LAKEHEAD UNIVERSITY. LAKEHEAD UNIVERSITY IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ACCURACY OF ANY INFORMATION SUPPLIED BY THIS BLOG.*

Prompt: “Firstly, what has drawn you to this academic program? Secondly, as a consumer of knowledge, who do you rely upon for information? Consider perhaps three or more “sources”. How do you ensure this information is reliable? How does this relate to this program?” Prompt Provided by Dr. Amanda Hooykaas.

Answer:

When I was younger, the idea of anything to do with Outdoor Recreation, Parks & Tourism had never crossed my mind, but I knew that I loved being outside. I believe that throughout my life, the journey I’ve been on -- whether it’s through summer camp or maybe even just hiking with my Aunt and her dogs -- has led me to this program. Honestly, before this I thought I wanted to be a novelist, but the second I read what Outdoor Rec, specifically this program, was about, my first thought was “that’s me!”. So everything I did from then on was to get into this program and any other school I got into didn’t matter anymore, Lakehead was the number one prospect. I think I’ve always craved being a part of this world, especially in the deeper sense that this program has to offer. Therefore, to me the only answer that I can provide as to “why?” is that I’m in love with recreation and everything the outdoors has to offer, except for cross-country skiing, I hate it! 

As a consumer of knowledge in today’s society, I rely on social media, media (ie. the news), and the internet for my information. How I make sure this information is reliable is that I go to the most recent news possible, as well as the most recent experiments conducted by doctors (MD or PhD) to ensure that I can trust it because it’s from a person who has done extensive research into the topic. If it’s from social media, I generally only believe it if it's a person of colour, another woman, a member of the LGBTQ2+ community talking about their experiences as a minority, or an expert in their field. The news will only provide you so little because, especially in the US, the news is typically run by white cis-gender people so it’s not the most diverse perspective given. As humans I feel it is our duty to diversify our knowledge and it directly relates back to this program because Outdoor Recreation doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to inclusivity. Now we have the JEDI principles, which are Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion. These principles were put into place to rectify the amount of injustice there is in Outdoor Recreation. I say “is” because as much as these principles are put into place, I as a woman will still face discrimination from a man who is believed to be “better” than me. I’m speaking from experience because there was a point where I was on a trip and this other group member who was male wouldn’t take my advice on his canoeing skills even though I’ve been canoeing my whole life and this was his first time. So to relate this back to what I’m saying about sources of information is that you should listen to those who have more experience with something than you do, regardless of gender, race, or sexuality, that’s how you know it’s reliable because it’s someone with years of experience and knowledge. Someone who has taken it upon themselves to change their perspectives and grow from those perspectives. So I, as a consumer of knowledge, am constantly looking for ways that I can be a better guide in the Outdoor Recreation world, especially since I am a white woman.

[quirrrky]

1 → 3 Pick one from the flowers above to open the Love Letter from your Haikyuu soulmate

PETITE FLEUR: PICK A FLOWER READING Ep 4. Love Letter 💌

If you haven’t met your Haikyuu soulmate yet, visit the links provided below to get to know who he is! MASTERLIST | YOUR SOULMATE

DISCLAIMER: This tarot/oracle reading is just for entertainment purposes only and based on my interpretation of the cards. The reading is also general so take whatever resonates. The cards are drawn intuitively and not intentionally nor by purpose.

Decks used: Labyrinthos Tarot Deck, The Oracle Deck, Romance Angels Oracle Deck, Moonology Oracle Deck

Let’s start!

Please note that the message will be on your resonating character’s POV

FLOWER 1

Tarot: Judgment, Seven of Cups, King of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Four of Pentacles, The Hermit, The Oracle: Fox, Whip, Fish, Heart, Anchor, Romance Angels: New Love, Release your Ex, Keep an Open-mind, You Deserve Love, Moonology: New Moon in Sagittarius, New Moon in Pisces, New Moon

RESONATING SONG: CAPITAL LETTERS - HAILEE STEINFELD

When I met you, the pieces and puzzle of my life came together. Everything finally falls into its place. The things I regret before came to light and made me realize that without them I won’t be led to you.

Before, I always fail to realize what’s ahead of me. I almost lose sight of hope and ended up disbelieving that I would be deserving of this moment. I never thought it will ever come to me. But you changed my mind.

With you, I finally found someone with whom I can share these deep feelings with—someone I feel so safe and comfortable to love with all my heart. You gave me new feelings I never thought I would feel. You gave me feelings I never thought would feel this good. And I want this forever. I want you forever. And I don’t think it would ever be easy for me to let you go. You’re my treasure. You complete me and I want to be the one to complete you too. 

I want to plan and build my future with you. The one where I’ll take care of you and be patient with you when you’re acting all moody, though I really think that it’s something so endearing about you. I want to be the one who’s by your side when you feel like crying. I want to be the person who will love you when you’re lonely and at the lowest point of your life. No matter what hardships life throws us, I want you to know that we’ll take it together and I’d rather go through them with you than not have you.

I know you’ve been alone all this time and I know how it feels. Just take my hand and let me show you that it’s safe to let go. It’s safe with me. Hold on tight and let’s dive deep. 

REMINDER: Don’t forget to reblog/comment your chosen pile NEXT EPISODE: HAPPY EVER AFTER

FLOWER 2

Tarot: Six of Cups, King of Pentacles, Five of Cups, Five of Wands, Eight of Swords, The Fool, The Oracle: Clover, Letter, Path, Stars, Mice, Dog, Romance Angels: Give your Relationship a chance, Chemistry, Children, Moonology: New Moon in Virgo, Disseminating Moon, Full Moon in Sagittarius

RESONATING SONG: HONESTY - PINK SWEAT$ 

You just don’t know how thankful, blessed and happy I am that I have someone like you in my life. To be honest, I’m so scared of the thought of losing you, because you freed me from the weights of my thoughts and secret anxieties that I don’t usually show. Now, let me be the one to make you believe that you deserve the same. 

Everyday, I will try my best to heal your hurt, your loneliness until you fully believe. I know the times you try to hide your sadness behind a smile. You might be scared. You might think that all this is just fleeting emotions, but not to me. You may have gone through a lot, but you’re not alone anymore. I’m here to make new tomorrows with you. I’m here to run away with you to leave all our scars behind.Everyday, I will try my best to heal your hurt, your loneliness until you fully believe. 

Let me free you from your doubts. Let me stay and stay with me. Allow me to show you the beauty in your eyes whenever they sparkle so much hope. Let me give you the world, because to me, you’re worthy of it more than you know.

I know it’s silly to still believe in fairytales. Hell, it might even be so stupid, but that’s just the kind of love I want to show you. The one where we can just endlessly dream about our future together and finally be able to laugh with all our hearts just laying in the ground watching the stars as we share corny jokes and stories. Entrust your heart to me. I’ll keep it safe and kiss all its pieces back together. 

REMINDER: Don’t forget to reblog/comment your chosen pile NEXT EPISODE: HAPPY EVER AFTER

FLOWER 3

Tarot: Eight of Cups, Queen of Pentacles, Five of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, Ten of Swords, The Moon, The Oracle: Cross, Moon, Lily, Rider, Romance Angels: Be optimistic about your love life, Calling in your soulmate, Make the Effort, Moonology: New Moon Eclipse, Waxing Moon, North Node

RESONATING SONG: OUT OF THE BLUE - RINI

We’re not meant to be. I hate the way you make me feel like it’s okay to get lost in all of this. I hate it whenever I lose myself to you. I still don’t know why it’s so easy for me to let you in and it’s so easy for you to make me smile. I don’t exactly know how to deal with this. To deal with you. I think I might be crazy sometimes, yet I can’t resist being wrapped around your finger the second I see you.

If I’m going to be honest, I’m a bit scared because when I’m around you I don’t feel like myself. I just feel so different. ll my worries just go away. It’s like I’m a new person and something inside keeps nagging me that maybe I should just stop over thinking about this. 

I really don’t know why you always get under my skin despite how many times I tell myself that that this cannot be true. You’re always there whenever i just want to be alone. As much as I like to say I rather be by myself, I can’t because I honestly want you near me. Perhaps, I need you. Actually, I need you more than I let on. 

It’s just that there’s so many things that happened and I can’t believe someone will give me this much and that I’m actually capable of feeling this way. I always thought I can’t afford love, but you came along changing my plans and my life. 

Looking into your eyes always have me wondering how can I ever let you slip away from me. I realized that I just can’t. I guess I’m very lucky to have you and I want you to feel that every minute you spend with me. 

I hate that I think I’m underserving of this—that I’m not worthy of you, because I want to be the man you deserve. I want to be the person who brings you as much joy as you bring into my life. I want to be the right one for you.

REMINDER: Don’t forget to reblog/comment your chosen pile NEXT EPISODE: HAPPY EVER AFTER

A/N: Took me two days, this was the hardest to do, ngl! 🤧

✧ PETITE FLEUR: PICK A FLOWER READING ✧ ✧ DAYDREAM MUSEUM ✧

FLOWER QUEENS 🌺 : @mkkhaikyuu​ @fluffy-mayarii​ @koharuhar​ @itsmeaudrieee​ @lumin3xe​ @ginsan-eyes​ @lyricumsabiaflos​ @kageyamas-love​ @akaashrifa​ @anime-sidecharacter​

REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED ♡ Please help me reach other viewers as tumblr tags often don’t work on me. Thank you so so much! 

[angelikook]

How to Find Your Soulmate

Pairing(s): Non-idol!Namjoon x reader

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff, teensy bit of angst

Word Count: 10.2k

Warning(s): None

Summary: Where a journey to find his soulmate took a different turn.

A/n I wrote this as a spur in the moment thing, but it surprisingly came out really well.

The familiar sound of keys jiggling from his front door was a sure sign that he was about to lose whatever amount of peacefulness in his tiny apartment. As he braced himself for what was about to come, the door swung open and came in the person he had been waiting for.

Y/n was her name. Peculiar, wild, and random. Her hair basically could represent her entire personality. Unruly, messy, and out of control. She'd been a loner for most of her lifetime. Definitely a big believer in “I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need no man”.

It also came as a surprise to Namjoon when he couldn’t help but to be attached to her a long time ago when they were kids. And ever since that, he had gained a new best friend. Or more like the best friend since he didn’t have that many best friends to begin with.

“Joon, let’s go! We have things to do.” Y/n grabbed on his arm and tried to pull him up from his slouched position on his couch. The couch that became worn out so quickly for its rather frequent use whenever he was stressed.

In his defense, it wasn’t his fault that the couch was so comfy.

Failing to pull him up, Y/n groaned in frustration. “Come on! There’s a bazaar downtown that I wanna check. Can’t have me go alone at this time, right?”

“I don’t wanna get up. Let’s just watch Netflix,” he said as he turned on the TV.

Y/n snatched the remote from his hand and turned the TV back off. “Nope. Let’s go. Tomorrow is Saturday anyways, you can watch the TV all you want.”

Namjoon sighed. “What do I get for this?”

Y/n grinned and cupped her cheeks. “You get to spend time with me.”

“Ugh, I don’t want that,” he teased as he pulled himself up from the couch. “I'm tired of seeing your face.”

“You, mister.” She jabbed her finger at him. “Owe me a boba tea, remember? Now is the perfect time to redeem yourself.”

“Remind me not to wake you up again on Sunday mornings.” He shuddered at the memory of seeing bed headed Y/n screaming on top of her lungs, telling him not to wake her up from her beauty sleep or whatever.

“Are you seriously wearing that, though?” he asked as he eyed Y/n’s outfit.

She still wore the same outfit that she had worn since this morning. There was a noticeable coffee stain on her left cufflinks, indicating she probably had bumped her mug with her hand by accident. Her skirt was already crinkled especially on the bottom part. Disclaimer, he totally did not just check her out. Her heels made her feet red and look swollen. They clearly cut off her circulation, but somehow she insisted on wearing them anyways, claiming that she felt sexy and smart and beautiful in them.

“They look uncomfortable,” Namjoon had commented one day after noticing how her heels made Y/n walk weirdly. “Why don’t you just wear sneakers?”

Y/n scoffed, as if what he had said was ridiculous. “Real women don't wear sneakers to work, Joon.”

“Whatever you say, Y/n.” Namjoon had tried hard to stop the urge of rolling his eyes.

Ever since that, he didn’t even want to talk about her heels. “Let her suffer if she wanted that,” he always reminded himself.

Y/n walked to his full-length mirror inside his room and stared at herself. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Just change into more comfortable clothes,” Namjoon said from the living room. “You’d look out of place."

With that, Y/n closed the bedroom door behind her and grumbled. “This is perfectly fine. People do go out after work to a bazaar.”

She actually said more than that. Way more. But at this point, he didn’t even bother to listen to her. It wasn’t like this was his first time ignoring her blabbers. And he was pretty sure she was used to it, too.

Minutes later, Y/n came out to the living room wearing Namjoon’s hoodie and sweatpants. She even managed to find a pair of his sandals that he thought was gone. Sure her outfit now swallowed her, but at least it was more comfortable.

“Alright, let’s go!” was the last thing she said before they left his apartment.

A boba tea and a corn dog later, Namjoon and Y/n were walking aimlessly. They were just following the direction other people were taking, not really sure themselves where they would end up.

“Aren’t you glad I forced you out of that stuffy apartment?”

“Nope. I still rather be on my couch.”

Y/n frowned. “What?” She gestured to their surroundings. “This is so much better.” She saw a small bench and sat on it, gesturing to him to sit beside her. “I think you need to take a breather and just relax, my dude. Whatever problems you have at work, they don’t exist for now.”

“It’s easy for you to say that.”

Y/n slurped hard on her drink, trying to get as many bobas as possible into her mouth. “You-”. Chew. “-think too much-”. Chew. “-of things you can’t-”. Chew. “-control.”

“Okay, finish your drink first. That’s disgusting.”

Y/n laughed while trying to stop her bobas from coming out of her mouth. After succeeding to suppress her laughter, she chewed on the bobas thoroughly before swallowing them.

“You’re an overthinker who misses on great things in life just because you’re too caught up in your problems. And when you realize you missed those things, it’ll be all too late.” Y/n then continued finishing her drink in silence while he was registering what she just said.

He was so focused on his thoughts to the point he didn’t even realize when Y/n had left him to find a trash can. He was only drawn back to reality when Y/n came to him running and yelling his name in excitement.

Y/n spoke in rapid speed to the point she sounded like speaking gibberish. The only thing he heard was “fortune teller” before Y/n yanked on his hand and dragged him to a small kiosk.

The kiosk was mostly empty. No customers were surrounding it unlike other kiosks. But it wasn’t what set it apart from the others. It was the big letters in front of it that read “fortune teller” in big bold text. Inside, there was only one woman sitting, unmoving, seemingly reading something, a book maybe.

Aware of his and Y/n’s presence, the fortune teller looked up from the book and smiled at them both. Unlike what the media portrayed fortune tellers were, that they were scary and mysterious, her smile was warm and friendly.

“Is there something I can do?” The fortune teller closed the book and stood up.

“Yes!” Y/n replied. “My friend here-” She gestured to Namjoon “-wants to know his future.” After a few seconds of pause, she added, “And about his soulmate too, please.”

Before he could respond, the fortune teller beat him to it. “Very well.” The fortune teller cracked her knuckles before staring deep into his eyes. Her gaze somehow made him feel naked, vulnerable.

They hold their gaze for a while. As seconds became minutes, he felt breathless, and hot. The gaze that at first was soft but strong, became sharper and almost felt painful. But not long after, the fortune teller focused back at Y/n who stood still beside him, gawking at her. He could finally let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“From what I can tell, your friend is on the right track. He’s doing well, but he won’t be if he can’t appreciate the simple things in life,” the fortune teller explained. “As for his soulmate, he already knows who they are, he even knows where they are. The only thing left for him to do is just to figure it out within himself.”

The thing was, he didn’t believe in fortune tellers, astrology, and whatnot. He never even cared about things like that. But seeing Y/n’s grin and the glint in her eyes as she thanked the fortune teller and gave her a tip, he didn’t say anything against it. As much as Y/n called him boring, he wasn’t the type to burst people’s bubble of happiness.

Throughout the walk to Y/n’s apartment, she kept talking about what the fortune teller had said.

“Gosh, I can’t believe you know who your soulmate is.” Y/n lightly punched on his arm. “You never tell me anything.”

Namjoon shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? I don’t know who my soulmate is either. I apparently need to figure it out myself.”

“I know what we can do!”

This sounded like he was about to be in for a bad time. “What?”

“Let’s go do something different! Maybe you'll find your revelation or whatever.”

He really wanted to scoff. “How does that even work?”

“Don’t know. But it's worth a try. Do you want to figure out who your soulmate is or not?”

Of course he did. “Of course I do. What kind of question... ”

Y/n clapped her hands together. “Good! Tomorrow I’ll pick you up. Get ready for a week full of surprises.”

“Wait what? I never signed up for this.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You did sign up. You said you want to find your soulmate.”

“But not tomorrow!” he raised his voice in frustration. “We have work on Monday.”

“Just call your boss that you’ll be gone for a week.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Dude, bro, my guy, you need to live in the moment. Plus, you haven’t taken a leave in years. Years, Namjoon.”

He inhaled long and hard before exhaling it slowly. His best friend seriously was going to be the death of him.

“Please.” Y/n looked up at him. He suddenly became aware of the massive height difference they had.

It wasn't that Y/n was short. She said it herself that she was the average height although he didn’t really believe that. She just looked so tiny compared to him. But, on the other side, Namjoon was quite tall for a guy around his age.

He groaned. “Ugh, not the puppy eyes. Seriously.”

“Does that mean I win?” There was a soft gleam of hope in her eyes.

Namjoon was a strong man. At least, that was what everyone who knew him had said about him. So it was weird for the always composed and well mannered man to have a weakness. And to have that weakness took in the form of his childhood best friend was even weirder. What in his best friend that didn’t exist in literally anything that could melt his heart like no other? Puppies and kittens could never even compare. His cute bonsais, too, couldn’t even compare.

He might never find the answer to that. Heck maybe he found out about his soulmate before he could answer that. He could only shook his head in disbelief as Y/n put her bunny headband on his hair.

It was Saturday at 8 a.m, the morning after the fortune teller incident. Y/n simply invited herself into his apartment while he was still in the shower. It was one of the things he regretted after giving her the keys to his apartment. It was meant to be used during emergencies, not for her getting all cozy here and thinking this was her place.

He was walking out of the bedroom, fully dressed and ready for the day, when he heard a sizzling sound coming from the kitchen. He stepped closer to the kitchen and as it came into view, he saw Y/n cooking with her back facing him.

He thought he was being quiet, but apparently not because Y/n turned around and greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Morning! I'm making you some omelette and there's coffee on the table." She pointed at the mug on the table with smoke still puffing out of it. "Exactly two teaspoons as you like it." Then she continued cooking as if nothing had happened.

He was speechless as he looked at the mess in his kitchen. Egg shells on the floor, ketchup smeared all over the kitchen counter, and some puddles on the floor could be seen. It was as if a tornado just came.

“What is all this?” he asked when he finally found his voice.

Y/n carefully plated the omelette before proudly putting the plate beside the coffee. “This is what I call breakfast. Bet you usually only drink coffee in the morning.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Look at the kitchen, Y/n! Who’s gonna clean up after this?”

Y/n took a look around the kitchen with a readable and all too familiar facial expression.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Namjoon said as he took a seat. “And to that, I say, I don’t want to clean up your mess. You clean it up.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine, geez. A thank you would be nice.”

“You not making a mess would be appreciated.”

“Touché."

Usually when he had coffee in the morning, he felt that adrenaline rush. The kind that made you feel giddy, restless, and even made you tremble. This time, thanks to Y/n's cooking, he didn’t feel any of those. He was tempted to tell Y/n about this, but in the end, he just kept it to himself. He didn’t want to fuel her ego. It wasn’t a very good idea to do that so early into this “Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate” or whatever Y/n had called it last night.

Even if he told him all those things, chances were she wasn’t going to listen to him as she was busy admiring her work on his hair. The bunny headband finally put on properly and held his hair away from his face.

“Have you ever put on a face mask before?” Y/n handed him a face mask.

“Umm, no.”

“Let me put it on you.” She smiled as she took back the face mask from his hand.

Within seconds, her trained hands successfully put the face mask on his face. And not long after, her face was also wearing one.

“We’re matching!” Y/n grinned at him. “Let’s take a selfie,” she said as she pulled out her phone.

He wasn’t big on selfies, he didn’t even remember the last time he took one. But seeing the huge smile on his best friend’s face was enough for him to reluctantly agree.

He forced a smile at the camera. He realized it looked awkward as Y/n shoved their photo in front of his face to show him the result. It looked even more ridiculous with the bunny headband on top of his head. However, the girl looked like she didn’t mind as she kept babbling on about how this was their first selfie in years and she wanted to upload it so bad.

“-will ask me about you. And what’s going to happen to me when you date one of them?”

A silence followed her ramblings until he realized she just asked him a question.

He cleared his throat. “First of all, just because I’m dating, doesn’t mean you can’t still be my best friend. Second of all, isn’t the purpose of this… adventure is to find my soulmate?”

Y/n eyes widened in realization. “You’re right! I’m gonna post it then.” As she was about to hit the post button on her phone, she looked at him. “Wait. What should I caption it?”

20 minutes later, when the once cold mask was no longer cold and it started to dry a bit, Y/n carefully peeled the mask from both their faces.

“What do you feel?” Y/n asked expectantly.

Namjoon didn’t even know how to answer that. Truth to be told, these skin care products never really made an impactful difference on his skin, hence the reason he didn’t have a skin care routine. The most he ever did was just wash his face with a face wash and even that was a leftover he found in his sister’s old room a few weeks after she left for uni. A side note, don’t even ask him why he was in her room, he wouldn’t answer it truthfully. His parents would probably say that he missed her, but he knew it wasn’t true… right?

The lack of response from him was enough for Y/n to catch on what he was feeling.

“You don’t feel anything, huh?”

“Wetness on my face.” His answer sounded more like a question.

“You’re unbelievable. Well, since today is just the first day, I’ll let it go. But, the correct answer to that is refreshed, Joon,” Y/n explained in exasperation as she scratched her head.

“What does that have to do with finding my soulmate?”

“You might find out your soulmate faster if you’re not stressed,” Y/n said as a matter-of-factly.

He sighed. “You know what, I don’t even bother to argue with you.”

“Cause you know I’m right.”

That night when he was about to fall asleep, when he was only half-aware of his surroundings, the memory of today’s activity played in his mind. The messy kitchen as his best friend attempted to make him breakfast. Her proud smile as she served his food. The focused look on her face when he was putting on her headband and the face mask on him. And lastly, the tired smile she offered him as she said goodbye when the day ended after they binge watched on Netflix. For the first time in years, he fell asleep with a smile plastered on his face.

The next morning on Sunday, he woke up much earlier than usual. He even woke up feeling energized. He could even feel anticipation bubbling inside of him. The last time he felt like this was when he was around 9 and his parents gave him tickets to Disneyland as a birthday gift. Simply put, he felt like a kid again, waiting for great things that were about to happen today.

As he smiled at the memories of his childhood, he couldn’t help but realize that maybe Y/n was right all along. She always nagged on him because all he did was to mope around on his old couch and get drunk when things got too hard.

“Live in the moment, dude,” she had said multiple times. “You worry too much like an old man who fears the end of the world.”

What a great metaphor, Y/n.

Just like the day before, Y/n entered his apartment without notice. But this time, instead of being in the shower, he was already dressed and waiting for her. He could feel his heart beat get faster when he heard the door being opened.

Y/n widened her eyes in surprise before she smirked. “I like the energy. Let’s just go, then!”

For the second activity in The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate, Y/n took him to an…

“Animal shelter?” Namjoon asked in disbelief.

Y/n nodded. “I want to see cute animals.”

“We can just go to the zoo.”

“It’s expensive. And they don't really care about animals."

Ever since the start of their friendship, he could never win against her wittiness. So this wasn’t really a rare occurrence where she said an argument so wrong yet so right.

“But a zoo is intended for exactly that purpose. Rather than you playing with those sheltered animals but not adopting one of them in the end,” Namjoon explained.

“Oh, shush. Stop being a party-” Y/n’s eyes suddenly caught a puppy running towards her. “Oh my God, come here, baby!” she yelled as she scooped the puppy up in her arms.

For a few minutes, it was just Y/n cooing at the puppy and he was just eyeing her in amusement. He knew that she would go mushy and all excited around animals, so he couldn’t really blame her for seemingly forgetting about him. Plus, he didn’t want to miss out on seeing Y/n using baby voices to talk to the animals.

His amusement was interrupted when Y/n abruptly shoved the puppy towards him.

“Wha-? I don’t-”

“Just take it. We’re here for you, not me.”

Namjoon sighed in defeat as he accepted the puppy into his arms. Its tail wagging so fast, going for miles per second, to the point he could feel its body shaking from the impact. Its big eyes looking up at Namjoon in… adoration? Maybe going to the shelter might be one of his favorite activities from now on.

They only went home after an entire day spent at the shelter. Namjoon was tired, he almost couldn’t keep his eyes open, but Y/n was probably more tired than him cause she kept running around to chase every puppy and kitten she saw.

He tried to stop her, knowing she would get tired, but she said, “Each one of them deserve love, okay,” before running around yet again.

Now as they sat in the bus on their way home, he saw out of the corner of his eyes Y/n’s head bobbing down every once in a while, following the motion of the bus. He snorted while he tried to hold his laugh. What he had thought would happen, really happened.

Feeling bad because he knew that would feel uncomfortable, he lightly directed Y/n’s head to rest on his shoulder. Instinctively, Y/n snuggled further into his shoulder to make herself more comfortable and when she was finally satisfied, she sighed.

This awfully looked like he was going to have a guest tonight.

The third day was on a Monday. He knew he was weird, Y/n had told him repeatedly, but he really liked Mondays. For him, it was finally the day in which he could do something about his problems at work that he just left off on Friday.

“I swear, you’re literally the personification of weird,” Y/n had commented one day.

To be honest, he didn’t really care if he was really what she had said. Can’t someone like something without being judged?

Right after they both woke up and had breakfast, Y/n went back to her apartment to get ready for the day.

Before leaving, she instructed him to find light clothes as they were going to spend time outdoors for the day. Exactly like what she said, he chose to wear an old t-shirt he had owned since he was in college and khaki shorts he found at the pit of his wardrobe.

“I hope they have mint choco flavor!” Y/n jumped up and down in excitement as they got closer to the ice cream parlor.

“Ew, why do you even like to eat cold toothpaste?” Namjoon asked rhetorically.

Y/n gasped. “What is this mint choco slander? You, mister, have never tasted life until you eat mint choco ice cream.”

“No, thanks. I bet I’d taste death eating those.”

Flabbergasted, Y/n stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “You-”

He quickly cut her off, “Let’s not continue the argument before there’s a bloodbath.”

Y/n chuckled proudly. “Because you know it’d be your blood that’ll be spilled.”

“Um, no,” he interjected. “I think you mistake your blood with mine.”

“Really? You wanna fight?” Y/n took a fighting stance in front of him in which Namjoon just grabbed her elbow and pulled her to walk again.

"Stop that! The kids will think you're one of them," he mumbled.

They were at a busy park surrounding a lake. Kids were running all around the place. Some parents tried to chase them but some went as far as scolding them. A small portion of parents even just let their kids disappear into the crowd of people. He doubted those parents even care about their kids.

He never knew such a place like this existed. During the three days he spent on this journey, he had learned and knew more things than all of his life experiences combined. Maybe he’d have to thank Y/n after they reached the end of this journey.

“I start to think this journey is just your excuse to have a holiday.”

“No way. This is totally 100% for you. Speaking of that, do you already have an idea who your soulmate might be?”

Namjoon shook his head as he opened the door to the ice parlor and gestured to her to enter first. “Just get your damn ice cream.”

There was a long line of people waiting to order, but soon enough, it was their turn.

Even before the cashier could greet them, Y/n already blurted out a question. “Do you have mint choco flavour?”

“We’re unfortunately ran out of it. Maybe you want to try mocha instead?”

Y/n pouted in disappointment as she was trying to find the next best flavor in the menu.

Though mint choco ice cream was his mortal enemy, he couldn’t help but to feel a pang of sadness upon seeing his best friend’s reaction. There was nothing worse than having your first choice unavailable.

“You know what? I changed my mind, bubblegum is now my favorite,” Y/n commented as they walked out of the parlor. A cup of bubblegum flavored ice cream in Y/n’s hand and the vanilla one in Namjoon’s. “Goodbye, mint choco.”

“See? You’re finally agreeing with me.”

“Yeah, but for different reasons. I still think it tastes good, but bubblegum is better. It’s a good thing they ran out of mint choco.”

“Your taste in ice cream is weird.”

“Why would they make these flavors then if not for me to enjoy?” she argued as she put more ice cream into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed in content. “I haven’t had ice cream in weeks. I miss how cold it feels.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.” There was no way, in his opinion, not even in alternate universes where she could stand not eating ice cream for weeks. She had a sweet tooth and couldn’t stand not eating ice cream in weeks, at least that was what he knew since the start of their friendship.

“Nope. These past few weeks, my boss has been giving me double the amount of work. I have to work overtime and by the time I’m off work, all ice cream places have closed. So I’m gonna savour all of this as much as I can. God knows when I can get ice cream again.”

Shortly after she said that, a kid, approximately around 9 years old, bumped into Namjoon and accidentally made him drop his ice cream. The kid, unaware of what just happened, just mindlessly bowing and saying sorry before running again to chase his friends.

“Oh no!” Y/n squatted down near the sorry sight of his ice cream.

Before he even registered what was happening, she handed him her ice cream. “Hold it for me.”

Instinctively, he held her ice cream. “Y/n, there’s no need for that. We can find the cleaning service and ask them to clean it.”

He didn’t know whether she was purposely ignoring him or she was so focused to the point she didn’t hear him. All he knew was the fact that she kept on cleaning up as best as she could. And that there was nothing he could do to stop her.

A few minutes later, Y/n jumped up from her squatting position. “All done!” She tossed the now dirty tissue in a trash can nearby.

She thanked Namjoon and took her ice cream back from him. But instead of eating it herself, she scooped some with the spoon and directed it in front of his face.

He must have looked bewildered because Y/n smiled and spoke, “We must share since you lost yours.”

He could swear when she said that, he felt warmth all around his body, originating from his chest. She just said she missed ice cream, yet when he lost his, she didn’t hesitate to share it.

“No, but thanks.”

Y/n frowned and softly touched the tip of the spoon to his lips. Reluctantly, he let her spoon-feed him.

“You said you want to savour it?” he asked after he swallowed.

Her answer, however, was something he never expected coming out from her mouth.

“What’s sweeter than eating ice cream is sharing it with your best friend.”

He swore he almost broke into tears at her words.

He knew how much she loved sweet foods. She even frequently ran to him crying when her brother ate all of her chocolate when they were kids. She broke many friendships because they didn’t want to accept her overpriced candies as presents. Heck, even a moment ago they were arguing about ice cream flavors!

This was a new side of Y/n that he just saw. A side she never showed him before, her best friend slash her only friend. He felt like he was learning more about Y/n than he was about his future soulmate.

So that was how their third day ended. Namjoon and her sitting on a bench facing the lake as they take turns to take a bite of her ice cream.

On Tuesday, the fourth day, Y/n had the genius idea of going on a road trip. It was a huge problem, because one: he couldn’t drive, and two: he wasn’t about to let Y/n drive for hours on end.

“This doesn’t sound like a very good idea,” Namjoon said for the millionth time that morning as Y/n stuffed their luggages into the tiny trunk in her tiny car. “Plus, I don’t think your car can withstand long hours on the road.”

"Shush." She forcefully closed the trunk. "You can't drive, therefore you don't deserve to have an opinion."

The car in question was a 2010 car that originally was owned by Y/n’s dad and given to her when she got a driver’s license. Please note that Y/n had told him long ago that she actually didn’t drive that much and probably wouldn’t need a car since she enjoyed taking the bus to work. Nevertheless, she refused to sell the car when she was in need of money after moving out of her parents’ house. She had said, and Namjoon still remembered it clearly, that, “I want to keep this bad boy until he’s an antique, then I want to sell him to the highest bidder, so I can be rich."

‘Okay’, Namjon had thought, ‘but antique cars are usually just sitting in the garage, not being overworked like Y/n’s.’ However, he never said anything, so Y/n automatically had thought she won again against him.

Minutes later, they were already on the road, going nowhere in particular. Namjoon was still steadfast in his stance. This wasn’t going to end well.

But what if he could persuade her to turn the car around by another means? He wasn't going to pass up this opportunity, so he tried again.

"Won't you be tired? Sleepy?" asked him.

"I'm not weak, Namjoon. Contrary to what you see me as, I'm as strong as you are, if not stronger."

"I lift three times a week." His words sounded more like a question.

"I walk up the stairs to the fifth floor multiple times a day."

Okay, this wasn't where the conversation was supposed to flow, but he wasn't going to back down.

"It's not my fault your apartment is crappy," he clapped back. “They can’t even fix their damn lift.”

"They will get it fixed soon, don't worry."

"That's what they said months ago!"

"Then what do you want me to do?" she challenged him.

"Find a new apartment!"

"They're all expensive. Plus, I’ve lived there since college, I’m kinda attached to it."

"You're a hopeless cause," he mumbled quietly, she probably didn't hear him.

After a few seconds of silence, Namjoon tried again, this time using another different approach.

"What if something terrible happens?"

"No, it won't. Relax. Chill. You're worrying too much. Why don't you just take a nap?"

"You're too chill, Y/n. We go out to nowhere without booking-"

"It's okay, really."

“How?” he asked, exasperated of how calm she was when they were about to go somewhere empty handed and with no planning whatsoever.

“How? Umm, I was on a road trip once.”

He wasn’t convinced. “When? You never tell me anything about it.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything I do! It was when I was 12. My dad and uncle took me along with them to go around the country.”

“12 years old, Y/n! You were 12. Now you’re in your 20s.” Namjoon wasn’t amused at all at this point. “Turn the car around now!”

“What? No!” Y/n exclaimed. “This is an important part of the journey. Being at a place you’re familiar with won’t help you dig deeper into yourself. You’d just be too preoccupied with your problems.” Then Y/n finished her speech off with a quiet mumble, “You’ll never find anything new by being in your comfort zone.”

Namjoon hated once again at how right her words were. He really wanted to argue with her, but she was right. Being on his couch all day, doing the same things everyday, wouldn’t change anything in his life.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Fine, okay, you win. Happy?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Y/n grinned. “Very.”

That night they arrived at a small motel that probably only had like 10 rooms at most. It had a homey feeling, but the stench coming from the lobby, though. It was unbearable for him.

As they dragged their suitcases while they were trying to find their room amidst the numberless doors, Namjoon asked Y/n, “Why are we in this crappy motel again?”

To answer that, Y/n shrugged. “Don’t know. I just saw the signs and went straight in.”

“Didn’t you smell something at the receptionist?”

They finally arrived in front of their room. They didn’t actually know it was their room, but based on the instructions that the creepy receptionist just gave them, there was a high chance this was it.

Y/n answered as she opened the door. “Yeah. The receptionist actually whispered to me that they just finished eradicating rats. He said there was an infestation in the lobby.”

He couldn’t help but to grimace while following her into the room. She had been told about all of that and she still decided to rent a room. He would never understand her way of thinking even after years of friendship.

As if she could read his mind, she spoke, “Don’t worry. All the rats were successfully killed and all of them were in the lobby. We’re safe.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked him. I’m not stupid, Joon.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Geez, chill. I just asked you a question.”

And that was how their fourth day concluded.

For the first time since the start of the journey, Namjoon finally initiated an activity on the fifth day.

He managed to browse on his phone for things they could do, eat breakfast with whatever food they had, and even pack lunch for the both of them before Y/n even woke up.

When she woke up, he hesitantly asked her to go hiking. Throughout the journey this far, he only followed wherever she wanted to go, so he didn’t really expect the reaction that he got from her after proposing his idea.

She widened her eyes as she digested his words and her breakfast. “Hiking? Where?”

“Behind this motel, there’s a small hill. What do you think?”

Y/n nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Let’s go. Spending a day with nature doesn’t hurt.”

Oh, how wrong she was.

The idea was for them to hike together, maybe even side by side, as they enjoyed the view. But instead, Namjoon left her a solid 50 meters.

Perhaps it was because he was taller, therefore he had longer legs and strides, or because he was excited, so he walked faster, or even both. No one really knew for sure, not even him.

“Joon!” she called once again in the span of less than 5 minutes. “Don’t walk too fast!”

Namjoon sighed as he stopped in his tracks, waiting for her to catch up with him. She was lucky she was his only best friend or he would’ve strangled her by now because of her naggings.

Quite a surprise to himself, when she finally caught up with him, he squatted down and ordered her to ride on his back. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him, but he just went with it. Maybe his unconscious thought that she would quit complaining if she was on his back. There was only one way to find out.

“Why? I can walk on my own.” She wiped the sweat on her forehead with a tissue.

He scoffed. “You look like you’re about to pass out any second. Just shut up and let me carry you.”

He didn’t know what he had expected from giving someone a piggyback ride and that someone to be Y/n, but he was sure a strangling grip around his neck wasn’t part of the deal.

“Can you-” Gasp. “-not strangle me?”

Y/n immediately let go of him. The warmth of her embrace suddenly disappeared. “Oops. Sorry.”

Once they arrived at the top, Y/n jumped off his back. “Woah, this is so cool.” She pointed at the motel that now looked small. “That’s our motel!” she exclaimed.

They found a large flat rock that they both could sit on and ate lunch together.

As she munched on her food, she asked, “Have you figured out who your soulmate is?”

“Not yet. I start to think this doesn’t work.”

“Good things take time, my dude.”

Oh, how he really wished it was true.

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you know that I always wanted to tick off ‘hiking’ from my wishlist?”

“The wishlist you had since you’re 10?”

She nodded. “After more than a decade, I finally finished everything on my wishlist.” She suddenly broke into a fit of giggles. “I’m gonna make a new one once we’re home.”

“What’s going to be in it?” he asked curiously.

Y/n took a moment to think before answering, “Maybe… to find my soulmate.” It came out more like a question rather than an answer.

She abruptly chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if in the end we figure out our soulmates in this journey?”

A lightning fast thought struck him but disappeared just as fast as it came. Throughout the rest of the day, he was trying to recall that thought to no avail.

The next day, on Thursday, they were going home. They couldn’t handle another hour, no scratch that, they couldn’t even handle another minute at the motel. Opposite to what Y/n had initially thought, the stench of rat carcass reached far beyond the lobby to their room.

A series of “see I told you so”s later, Namjoon finally broke her.

“Yes, Namjoon. Thanks for telling me that. I know you’re right and I’m wrong. Now please put on a song, I want to sing.”

Another thing Y/n was bad at, according to him, was singing. He knew she liked to sing, she’d told him about it, but he never understood how she managed to be so confident yet so bad at it. If he were told to rank between her ability to sing and choose a good motel, he’d probably have put singing as the first place based on how bad she was at it. Call him a bad friend, but he was just being honest.

However, he still played a song just to satisfy her. An easy song that no one can screw up, but he knew she would still screw up anyways. After all, enduring her cracked singing voice was the least he could do after being driven from and to a crappy motel.

And then she sang. And sang. And sang. One song turned to three turned to five then ten and fifteen. Before she went for the sixteenth song, Namjoon stopped her.

“Aren’t you thirsty from singing?” Nice catch! The question was just an attempt to make her stop a while so he could regain his hearing.

“Don’t even have to ask.”

As she gulped down water from her flask, Namjoon eyed her warily. He prayed, and he was an atheist, that she would forget about singing.

He didn’t know which God had answered his prayers, but when Y/n put down her flask, she already babbled about something else other than singing. Looked like the world, and God, were on his side today.

She was talking about the random bird that was flying straight to her car, almost hitting the car. Also about a dog that stuck out its head from the car beside them. And about how expensive the motel was for being smelly and dirty.

Lastly, “Do you think I cut out to be a singer?”

Yeah, maybe he was pushing his luck.

Day seven fell on a Friday. They spent the day walking hand in hand leisurely on the beach. Beside him, Y/n was talking about what color she should dye her hair next.

“I think I should go with green. What do you think?” Y/n nudged his side with her elbow and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Your boss won't let you dye your hair crazy colors,” he said. “Please don’t do anything that can get you fired.”

Y/n pouted at his answer. But soon her frown vanished as her eyes fell upon a bikini in a display of a store.

Namjoon exhaled. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

True enough, Y/n pulled on his hand that was still clasped in hers towards the store and only stopped after they were in front of the display.

“What a cute bikini!” she cooed before running inside the store, leaving a bewildered Namjoon outside.

Right when he entered the store, he heard a squeal that could only belong to one person.

He turned to the source of the sound and saw Y/n laughing with a store clerk. A male and handsome store clerk.

He wasn't the type of person who gets jealous easily or possessive, but he never saw Y/n with a man other than himself. So he couldn't really help it when he felt jealousy seeped through his gritted teeth. But he soon had forgotten about it when Y/n looked up at him and grinned.

Y/n approached him while holding a bikini set.

“This is their latest design. I’m gonna try it. Wait for me!” Then she disappeared to the fitting room before he could remind her that she didn’t wear bikinis.

Throughout the time he had known her, not even once she ever said anything about bikinis, let alone wearing one and he had known her since they were in diapers. What made her suddenly want to have a bikini?

Minutes later, after a series of clanking noises and a few curses, Y/n came out of the fitting room and he couldn’t believe what he saw. Surely the fitting room was a magic box or something, because there was no way his childhood best friend, his innocent Y/n, came out looking like a model out of a magazine. Well, maybe more like a model before they got heavily photoshopped since he still could see some tiny spots, cellulite, and scars on her skin. And maybe a plus size model because her hips would be considered wide compared to those models. But he didn’t mind them, they made her look more… natural, more human.

While he was busy admiring her, a cough suddenly woke him from his daze. He turned to see the store clerk from earlier, now standing beside him.

“You look very beautiful,” he commented, not minding the killing glare coming from Namjoon.

Y/n, without heeding the store clerk’s compliment, asked, “Joon, do you think this is okay?”

Namjoon was tempted to say, “Just okay? You look like a greek goddess who just blessed me with her presence.” But he was too paralyzed to say anything.

“I think you look great,” the store clerk spoke up again. For a split second right after he said that, he looked at Y/n’s thighs before looking at her eyes again.

It happened so fast, Namjoon thought he was just imagining it. But when Y/n’s facial expression turned sour and she quickly went back to the fitting room, he was wondering whether she saw that too.

His suspicion was confirmed right after they left the store.

“I can’t believe it!” she said while stomping beside him. “He looked at my thighs, Joon! Did you see it, too?”

He just hummed.

Y/n huffed. “I’m going to file a complaint to their manager.”

“You won’t do that,” he replied knowingly.

“I’m gonna make it viral, then. Let the whole world see how horrible he is.”

Namjoon really wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. “How? You don’t have footage of him doing it.”

“Damn, you’re right,” she mumbled. “Maybe I’m just not meant to have a bikini.”

A lot of thoughts ran through his mind. He wanted to let her know how pretty she looked in that bikini. How captivating the curves in her body were. But in the end, he only suppressed all of that. In his justification, he wanted a more appropriate timing. He didn’t want to say all that to her when she was mad or she’d think he said that to make her feel better. He wanted not just to comfort her, but to actually make her realize how beautiful she was.

On Saturday, his second favorite day after Monday, Y/n arrived a bit later at his apartment compared the days before. But when she saw him ready for the day, she said, “I’m giving you a chance to wake up late, but whatever.”

As per usual, Y/n didn’t tell him where they were going, and he was surprised when they arrived in front of a large building with a sign that read “library”.

Looking at Namjoon’s puzzled face, Y/n probably could read what was in his mind. “You still have no idea who your soulmate is, right? I just think that maybe it’s because we’ve focused so much on doing physical activities instead of, like, feeding the mind.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe we can do a little bit of reading. Because, you know, reading is like eating but for the mind. Or whatever that quote is supposed to go,” she elaborated.

“I read in my free time.”

“Have you read anything during this entire journey?” she raised an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s because of your brilliant idea of having a journey. Had you let me sit down on my couch, I would’ve read the entire biography of the founding fathers by now.”

“Gosh, you’re so boring. No wonder you haven’t found your soulmate. And for the record, you learned a lot of things from this journey. Things that might help you find your soulmate. You know what, let’s just go.” With that, Y/n pulled on his hand and stepped into the library.

Namjoon was in the middle of reading a philosophy book when Y/n suddenly spoke to him.

“I can’t focus, Joon,” she whined. “I have too many things on my mind.”

Those words were the most terrifying words he had ever heard, especially if they came out of Y/n’s mouth. Every time he heard those words, he felt like he wasn’t being attentive enough towards his friends to the point he didn’t know that something was disturbing their peace. And that feeling was heightened when Y/n was the one in trouble. He knew her for the longest time, shouldn’t he be more caring towards her?

He breath hitched, anticipating what Y/n had to say. “Why?”

She took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. “I know this stupid because it hasn’t ended yet, but I already miss this journey.”

Obviously he didn’t want to admit it in front of her, she would get a crazy idea otherwise, but he, too, could feel a pang in his chest that felt awfully familiar. It was the same feeling he got when he moved out of his parents’ house and when he was reminiscing the time he spent with his late dog. Also when he graduated from high school and had to leave his high school friends to pursue higher education. He wasn’t a stranger to this feeling. In fact, he knew it too well.

Y/n was right, though. It was indeed stupid to feel this way because they still had one more day together.

So he responded with, “We’re still in this journey. And even after this journey ends, we can still go on adventures together,” as a weak attempt to console her and also himself.

“It’s not the adventures that I miss. It’s the time we spend together. We’ve never spent this much time together.”

Of course he knew that. He knew he was going to miss the time they spent together, but his own pride made him unable to act vulnerable in front of her. Especially in the time when she needed him the most.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each deep within their own thoughts. That was when a crazy idea suddenly came to him. He usually wasn’t the one coming with crazy ideas, it was kinda Y/n’s thing and she probably would have copyrighted it if it was possible. But he wasn’t just going to be quiet at a time in crises like this.

“We can arrange some small one-day adventures every month. How does that sound?”

Y/n smiled although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sounds great. Just promise me you won’t rain check on me.”

It worked! He successfully made her smile again. As he cheered inside his mind, he assured her, “I won’t. I’ll write it on my calendar.”

Namjoon dreaded the last day of The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate more than when he was called for a job interview by a big company. He even had clammy hands and was sweating bullets. His hand trembled as he waited for Y/n to announce what they were going to do on this last day.

“Holiday has to be concluded with a lazy day. So I call for breakfast in bed,” Y/n explained as she once again wrecked his kitchen.

“I’m not in my bed, though.”

“Your bed is not locked for the rest of the day once you’re out of it,” Y/n said in a matter-of-factly.

“But please don’t ruin my kitchen.”

Y/n briefly stopped cooking as she looked around the kitchen. Then she shrugged. “Well, it’s too late. You should’ve said that earlier.”

He originally had thought that Y/n would make food for him, give it to him, clean the kitchen, then left. But he was surprised when Y/n came back to his bedroom while holding a plate of her own after delivering his.

“Move,” she commanded before shimmying beside him on the bed. She grabbed the remote on the nightstand and turned on the TV.

“Now, we relax. Because we’ll be stressed out of our minds tomorrow.” She leaned back and started eating her bacon.

So that was pretty much how their ninth day went. But that wasn’t all.

Long after they had finished their food, they still watched the TV. Messy kitchen and other duties were long forgotten.

As time passed by, Namjoon found himself cuddling Y/n while she rested her head on his buff chest. And not long after, they both fell asleep in that position with the TV still playing in the background.

But all of that couldn’t last long as tomorrow they had to go to work. So after waking up from their nap, they cleaned the kitchen and Y/n went home before it got too dark.

Instantly after Y/n closed the door behind her, Namjoon felt empty. It wasn’t just his apartment that felt empty, but also his mind and soul. He was already used to her constant nagging, her constant company, and her voice. He wanted to run to her and tell her to extend their journey, but obviously, that was impossible. They had responsibilities, especially since they just neglected them for a week.

On Monday, the day that used to be his favorite but now he loathed it, he came home to a voice message from the person he’d been waiting for.

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t talk to you yesterday whether you’ve found your soulmate or not. I was anxious about work so I forgot. Umm… As soon as you receive this message, please call or text me, okay? I wanna hear what you thought.”

He couldn’t help but also notice something in her voice. Fatigue? Or was it sadness? He swore he could hear it and wasn’t just imagining it.

Wanting to check up on her, he automatically called her. First ring. Second ring. Third ring. He waited and waited, but it only went to her voicemail.

Not giving up so early to talk to his best friend, he rang her again. And waited. And waited. And kept waiting. But just like the first time, she didn’t pick up her phone.

In the end, he settled with sending her a text.

He didn’t know why he was suddenly nervous as he typed the message.

It said, “I still don’t have an idea who that might be. Maybe the journey didn’t work. But, hey, are you sad? Or maybe sick?”

He only got the reply the next day at lunch. He kinda hoped to read long messages about how he shouldn’t be so pessimistic and that he surely would find his soulmate, just like how Y/n usually talked. But instead, she just replied with, “What a bummer.”

He only sighed in disappointment.

The next few days were grim and hard for him. His boss gave him so much work despite having to catch up on his other work. Every time he rode the bus from and to work, he remembered Y/n’s slouched position beside him as they came home from the animal shelter. He could almost feel her head on his shoulder again.

Every time he played a song, he got reminded of the time when he had to endure Y/n’s off-key singing. A memory played in his mind every time he passed an ice cream parlor. Heck, he even missed the feeling of anticipation that he felt every time he woke up in the morning.

What was worst of all though was the fact that they didn’t talk at all after her last text. Not even the occasional text messages or sending each other memes just like what they used to do before the journey started.

He knew it was because they both had a lot of catch up to do after neglecting work for a week, but he really wished that they could spare a bit of time to talk together.

Oh, how silly he was when he dismissed her for missing their time together back at the library. What made him feel even more silly was him being a coward and not admitting back then that he was, too, going to miss spending time together.

One particular night, he had trouble sleeping worse than any other night he had been missing Y/n. He kept turning around, hoping to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but to no avail. In the end, he gave up and settled to reminiscing their time together.

As he delved into his memories, every single activity they did, every word she said, and every place they went to, his half-awake mind came upon a realization.

He missed her enthusiasm that could lift his bad mood instantly. He missed her pushiness that made him do things he didn’t want to do, only to show him that she knew what he would like. He also missed her short legs and her whines when he walked too fast. He missed her love for animals, her love for mint choco ice cream, her laugh, smile, kindness, and voice.

He missed her beauty, her body, and her sense of style. He even missed her unruly hair. He missed receiving her love and attention. He missed loving her and having her in his arms. He missed loving her. She was the soulmate he had been looking for. She was his soulmate. His. Soulmate.

At the crack of dawn, a few hours after Namjoon could finally fall asleep, he woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. He had an important thing to tell Y/n. And he had to do it now before she went to work and he lost another chance to meet her.

He checked the clock, it read 5 a.m. He quickly got up from his bed, took a shower, and grabbed a protein bar before leaving.

In the bus on his way to her apartment, he kept tapping his foot impatiently as he chewed on his protein bar. At times like this, he really wished he could drive. But for now he had to settle with the bus.

He jumped out of the bus as soon as it stopped at the bus stop closest to her apartment.

He checked the time again, 5:43 a.m. He still had a few minutes before she woke up.

He arrived in front of her apartment after five minutes of walking. He knocked on the door rapidly to the point he was sure he accidentally woke up the neighbors. However, it was the last thing on his mind.

A minute later, a sleepy Y/n with a bed head opened the door.

“Namjoon, wha-”

He instantly pushed her in and closed the door behind them both.

“Hear me out,” he demanded.

Y/n nodded while yawning.

“Let me help you cross out one activity from your wishlist.”

“Why are we talking about that at this time?”

“Because it’s important."

“I don’t see it."

He started to lose his patience. “It is! There’s one activity that’s really important right? Like, more important than the others.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Which one? I haven’t written a lot in the list, actually.”

“What are they?"

“To eat a banana-”

For a second, Namjoon was speechless. “What? Banana? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just miss eating bananas.”

“Okay… What’s next?”

She took a moment to think, then answered, “Ah! I want to buy a new phone. Haven’t changed mine in years.”

He sighed. “Next?”

“Be a babysitter for a day.”

That wasn’t an answer he was looking for. “It’s a job for teenagers.”

“That’s why I only want to do it for a day.”

“Then?”

“Learn skateboarding. A skatepark just opened around here.”

“Anything else?”

She pouted. “You don’t want to help me cross any of those?”

“Not that. But, you said a few days ago on our journey that there was something you wanted to put on your wishlist.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Really? I don’t remember. What was it?”

He really wanted to strangle someone at this point. Why was she so dense? “You really don’t remember?”

“I don’t think I do. Sorry. What was it, though?”

“You wanted to find your soulmate.”

It took her a second to digest his words, but when she finally did, her eyes widened. “Oh, right. Does that mean you want to help me find my soulmate? Go on another journey? You know, you don’t have to use that as an excuse to-”

“Shut up, Y/n. Stop talking so much.”

Y/n frowned. “Sorry.”

He huffed. “I never knew doing this was going to be this hard.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t want to go on another journey to find anyone’s soulmate. And especially not after I realized last night that we have found our soulmates.”

Before he could say anything else, she cut him off. “Really? Who is yours? What about mine? Do I know-”

“Yes! We know them.” He finally decided to just cut the chase and came out clean. “You’re my soulmate, Y/n. And I’m yours. I was so busy chasing love during our journey to the point I never thought about the possibility of you being my soulmate.” With a softer tone, he concluded, “The fortune teller was right. I knew who my soulmate is and where to find them, but I was too stupid to realize that.”

Y/n was stunned for a while before slowly blinking. Once. Twice. “Wow. That’s crazy.” Then she grinned. “You finally admit that you’re stupid!”

“Y/n, that’s not the point!” he groaned.

“Yes, yes, I know.” She laughed. It sounded like bells in his ears. “I’m just messing with you. So, what should we do now?”

“Y/n.” He turned serious if he wasn’t being serious before. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

For a few seconds, Y/n stared at his eyes expectantly, as if she was waiting for something.

“Y/n?”

“What?”

“What do you say?”

“Of course yes, you dummy. I thought it was obvious.”

“Seriously now?” He rolled his eyes.

“Wait. Is this the part where we should kiss?” she asked in wonder.

He was really holding himself hard not to roll his eyes yet again. “Duh, Y/n.”

“But I haven’t brushed my teeth!” Then she disappeared into her bathroom, leaving a bewildered Namjoon in the living room.

As he stared at her bathroom door, he whispered to himself, “What did I just sign up for?”

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[ko-fanatic]

Are You Going To Destroy It? (Part one)

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary: Ishimaru is supposed to be perfect. He gets perfect grades, enforces the rules as hall monitor, and then goes home to care for his ailing grandfather while his father works long hours to support the three of them. But the simple fact is he's not perfect, and everything is unravelling his mental state more and more. Being forced to care for the man who ruined his life isn't helping.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, extreme bullying, self-harm, homicidal thoughts, family issues, mental health issues

Author’s note: Heavily inspired by Zankyou no Terror. Taka's storyline can be seen as an AU, but Daiya and Mondo aren't terrorists. Also, as a disclaimer: If you are aware someone is suicidal, DO NOT leave them alone. Mondo is just a kid, and doesn't know better, but now you do. If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out.

For all Kiyotaka loved school, it could be hell. 

He was drawn to learning, to pleasing his teachers, following the rules… But the same could not be said for those times of day where he was offered no protection. Before school, breaktime, lunchtime, and after school. Those were torture.

“C’mon, Taka,” One of the boys by his side grinned wolfishly, arm slung around his shoulders in some faux-friendly action, when in reality it was simply to keep him from leaving. 

Had he expected any different when he was accosted and all but dragged to the pool behind the school building? Honestly, no. However, despite the probability that he could fight the boys off and run home, he… was tired. Too tired to push out of their grips and run yet again. 

Too tired to go home. 

Hence, here he stood, shoved to stand on one of the diving blocks - still in his full uniform - his classmates looming over him like vultures.

“Why don’t you go for a little dip?” The boy laughed as Kiyotaka resolutely stared out at the glistening water, so crisp and clear in the afternoon sun, “And then, well, not come up again.”

Ah, telling him to kill himself, yet again. They’d done this dance before (or was that another classmate? Their faces blur). He’d be lying, to say he hadn’t thought of it. Despite the utter terror that last instance had incited, razor blades thrown at him with jeering taunts to go cut up his arms some more, this is another level of intimidation. 

So painfully close to casual. 

“It’s what a filthy Ishimaru like you deserves.”

He was right about that, he supposed. Some time ago, he would’ve held his head up high and asserted that, yes, he is an Ishimaru, but he was going to fix his family’s reputation. He would drag his name out of the mud, and make it all better. 

Now, he just wants the exhaustion to end. 

“It’ll be just like falling asleep.”

The sentence rang over and over in his head, so similar to ones he’d thought on countless occasions; clutching bottles upon bottles of his grandfather’s pills, staring at the open blades of a pair of scissors, at the length of rope in the rotting garden shed that could easily be tied into a noose. 

And God, did he just want to sleep.

His body leant forward, without explicit permission but he had no will to stop himself, eyes closing as he awaited the burning sensation that comes with breathing chlorinated water -

“CANONBALL!!”

The yell was loud, startling all of them at the poolside, and accompanied with a large splash. Kiyotaka and his classmates got soaked with the tidal wave of water that had been dispersed, and Kiyotaka’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the cause of the disturbance. 

A handsome boy was in the pool, grinning ear to ear after his impressive dive from the roof above. His bleach blonde hair hung down in sopping ringlets, dishevelled out of whatever style it’d had before. His pretty, almost lilac eyes were heavily ringed in smudged, dripping eyeliner, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

“‘S too warm to stay poolside, guys!” The boy smirked, swimming up to them as Kiyotaka could only watch in confusion. Assumedly, his classmates were also dumbfounded, considering the utter silence that seemed to envelop them all like a thick fog.

That was when the boy grabbed him by the leg, pulling him into the water but never letting his head dip below. He wasn’t dragging him under to drown, wrapped in a cool embrace like his mind and peers had whispered to him over and over again. No, this seemed… friendly. Like the adolescents in the media, who play and rough-house, yet never want any harm to come to each other. 

He was still in the boy’s arms, head static and floating above his shoulders, reality a haze. He swore he could hear his classmates say something, though he doesn’t know what, and when he looked back they were gone. 

“Hey,” The boy smiled, much more subtle and subdued than the grin he’d previously flashed. Kiyotaka was lifted a little higher, placed gently on the side of the pool, his head lowered and rivulets of water running down from his short hair. 

“Are you okay?” The boy asked, “The things some assholes do… But you’re safe right now, yeah?”

He didn’t speak. He never spoke. 

“Sorry I pulled ya into the water,” The other spoke once more, leaning on one toned arm as the other scratched at the back of his mop of hair, “Thought I should put some distance between ya ‘nd those guys, and that was the first thing I thought of. Didn’t really wanna cause a fight with you in the middle, looking so out of it -”

“I’m -” Kiyotaka began, voice hoarse and so soft, quiet, and he paused to clear his throat, “I’m fine… Used to it, I suppose…”

“Well, then that’s not really fine, right?” The other posed, like it was the simplest thing in the world, “Name’s Mondo. What’s yours?”

He looked down at his uniform, thumbing the seam of his blazer sleeve, a million thoughts running across his mind but without any substance to actually grab hold of one. As noncoporial as a spirit.

“I… Kiyotaka Ishimaru…” He hesitantly put forward, his name feeling like molasses in his mouth, gluing to his teeth and oozing between his lips, “Thank you for helping me, Mondo-kun.”

It feels right, to thank him. Or, not right, but proper. A thing one should do. He cares a whole lot for propriety, has to, and the instinct kicks in fast. Mondo simply looks amused. 

“Ya don’t need to bother with honorifics, it’s cool,” He waves off, and a small pang in Kiyotaka’s chest murmurs ‘ah, to be so casual’. 

He’ll never be able to do something like that, because he’ll never have a friend to be casual with. He’s not being morose when he thinks that, either; at this point in his life, despite being just a few months shy of his fifteenth birthday, he knows that as empirical fact. He’s unlikeable, plain and simple, exemplified by his classmates attempting to gode him into suicide. 

That must mean he’s a special kind of hateful. 

Mondo looks up, then, at the roof. A man with dark hair stands at the railing, arm casually slung over the side, watching the pair of them from his vantage point. Something in Kiyotaka’s chest shrinks, but Mondo is quick to assure him. 

“My brother,” Is his simple explanation, “Are you… gonna be alright to get home? By yourself, I mean?”

The thought of going home makes him flinch. The soulless eyes, staring at the wall as he gives his near-catatonic grandfather his bath, feeds him his dinner spoonful by spoonful, gives him his meds and forces him to swallow. So helpless, dependent, pathetic…

An evil part of him screams to just hold him under the water, wrap his hands around the old man’s throat, give him too many pills at once. Because, for God’s sake, this man ruined his life before it began, and it’d be so easy to take him out. Like an old dog that has outlived its use, out behind the garden shed -

He cuts off those thoughts there. He’s truly a vile person. 

“It’s fine,” He lies, because it isn’t. He doesn’t know who he’ll snap and kill first, himself or his grandfather, and he still wants nothing more than to lay down in the water and breathe until his lungs give in.

“If you’re certain,” Mondo hesitates, looking like he wants to say more, but instead he just pulled himself out of the pool, “I should probably get back to my brother. Still, though, if those idiots come after you again… I ain’t usually one to agree with being a narc, but some things are just way too much.”

He nods, though his heart isn’t in it. 

“See ya around, Taka!” Mondo grins, giving a mock salute as he walks off. 

Nothing’s stopping him from shuffling off the tile, going down into the depths of the water and laying at the very bottom until the staff come by tomorrow morning. But he doesn’t. He’s not sure why he doesn’t, but he stands and walks out the pool gate, dripping water onto the concrete of the pavement and drawing odd stares as he treks home. 

Taka, he thinks, I like that. 

[stygianflood]

Star to Every Wandering Bark  (Ethan x F!MC)

Hi everyone! I’m here with my very first fanfic. I’m really nervous about posting this, and have been changing my mind every hour. But I suppose I’ll just do it. I would like to thank Ruby (@starrystarrytrouble) for her encouragement and appreciation, and also for prereading this.

Summary: Set somewhere in the time jump in 2.18. Ethan surprises Aparna by asking her to add her name beside his own, on paper.

Also my submission for Choices January Challenge 2021 day 30 prompt, “Hope”

Words, rating- 1.2k, Teen

Genre- Fluff, with minor angst at the beginning

Open Heart Fanfic Trope- And they were Soulmates

Disclaimer- Characters belong to Pixelberry.

We need to talk. How about tomorrow, at my place?

Aparna had been pacing the locker-room for the best part of an hour, ruminating the full import of that text. And knowing Ethan, she had an inkling what it was about. She now wondered if she should have asked for more. 

With the recent exigencies at the hospital, even when they managed to be at his place, sleep overtook them the moment they hit the bed. And there was the added business of life after Edenbrook, an issue Ethan was skilfully eluding for some time now. 

Between going through the prospects and the plummeting vacancies in other hospitals, and wondering if she had completely misconstrued Ethan’s view of their relationship, Aparna was amazed she still retained her sanity.

When Marlene informed her that Mrs. Watson had responded to the antihistamines and was finally sleeping, Aparna knew she was only playing for time. 

Ethan had been checking the time every fifteen minutes over the last couple of hours. She must be miffed at his non-responses this week. And then there was the other matter he was planning. But just as he was about to call her, the buzzer and then Jenner’s excited barks broke into his reverie.

‘Hey.’ 

Her smile was weary, the circles under her eyes darker. A few unruly strands had escaped her messy plait. And Ethan had never settled his eyes on a more calming sight. 

But today he saw something else. 

Could it be caution? 

When she returned his embrace with a one-armed hug, and almost deflected the kiss, he wondered if it was only because she was tired, and Jenner, a little too distracting.

‘Why don’t you freshen up first?’ He asked as Aparna and his dog completely divested themselves of his presence.

She scratched behind Jenner’s ear one last time before answering, ‘I think I would prefer the talk.”

‘Of course.’ Ethan gestured towards the couch as he pondered over the wine rack. ‘I’ll just get the wine.

His motions were untroubled, leisurely.

‘Ethan, I don’t have time for this.’ Aparna replied through gritted teeth.

‘But,’ Ethan flinched, perplexed. ‘You said you’re free.’ 

‘Not free enough to break up over your fancy wine.’ she snapped, turning away to face the dusk that smeared on his windows. 

A fraction of a second passed before Ethan gathered his completely disarrayed thoughts.

‘What the… Have you lost it, Apu?’ 

He walked down to her, wary but resolved. And almost as a reflex, his hand caressed her arm. It was their dance. Choreographed and familiar. And when she did not object, he dipped his chin on her shoulder.

‘Come on…’ Ethan whispered into her hair, and though she avoided his gaze, she did not refuse. He took that as a sign to steer her to the couch. 

‘I thought we’d discuss our prospects after Edenbrook. Among... other things.’ Ethan tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and sighed.

Aparna looked up. Timid and sheepish.

‘And you aren’t breaking up with me? Or leaving the continent?’ She asked, her ears reddening by the second.

‘Seriously, where’s this coming from?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Aparna mumbled, before quickly defending herself. ‘But Ethan, you don’t just tell people you need to TALK... Ugh! I need a shower.’

After a hot shower and voracious gulping of pizza, Aparna found herself looking at Ethan in his element. She had seen him dressed to the nines, and in other more private occasions. But she knew her favourite version of him was the one before her, speaking of the future of medicine, and in no uncertain terms, her future in it. He finished with the fundamentals of the hospitals she had chosen, and turned to face her.

‘Of course, I’ll follow you after you’ve made your decision.’ Ethan laced their fingers, before continuing, ‘That is to say, if you want me to.’

‘I have my reasons for avoiding this at work.’ Ethan put down his glass and edged closer before continuing. ‘I know we aren’t hiding anymore. But I stand by what I said. Your professional development is far too important. And I won’t tolerate people saying you were matched to a programme because I had anything to do with it. 

‘That.’ Ethan smirked before sweeping her into his arms. ‘And food.’

The steady thrum of his pulse beat a tattoo on her forearm as she stared at him. 

Ardent and doe-eyed. 

Reminiscent of Miami. 

Hope was treacherous and liberating, she realised. 

And for the first time since they had known each other, Aparna was at a loss for words. But when she closed her lips on his, she hoped he would know. 

A few more glasses later, they were sprawled on his couch, Jenner snuggling close to Aparna.

‘They might suggest one of their research assistants.’ Ethan continued, hoping she would take the hint. ‘But I already have-’

Purple remnants of the day lingered on the window panes, and the dimmed lights cast a strange, dreamlike aura on the living room.

‘I meant to ask you something else,’ Ethan ventured with trepidation in his voice. ‘My book is getting a second edition. John Hopkins and Novartis had rudimentary talks of sponsoring the research that’ll go into updating the data. 

‘Ethan, are you saying what I think you’re saying?’

‘Yes.’ He grinned. ‘And legally, you’d be the second author.’

‘But… But I’m just a second year resident!’ She was back on her feet.

‘With experience on my team, and the first authorship of a paper on phage therapy.’ He said as though it was self explanatory.

And it’d be our first co-authored book, he told himself.

Ethan sat with bated breath as his eyes followed her nervous pacing across the living room.

Absentmindedly, or perhaps drawn by some intuition, Aparna reached for Ethan’s copy of Diagnostic Principles, and ran her hand across the title page. 

Her thoughts were muddled by her younger self furiously scribbling along the margins of his book, every whirlwind circumstance that had brought her to this beautiful man, and the inebriating realisation that her own name could accompany his, on the same plush paper.

And in that moment, Aparna knew something had changed. Irrevocably. She was no longer the only one fighting for their future. 

‘I must be mad to agree to this. But… Yes, Ethan.’ 

And she was as certain as the day she chose medicine, her first utterance in a lore she had composed for a decade.

Ethan felt before he knew he had walked across to her. Pressing his forehead to hers, he caressed her cheek. And with a surge of pride, he realised he had long wed his life’s vision to the woman he had held in his arms in Miami. 

And you have only detoured in vain ever since. 

And he kissed Aparna as he had never kissed her before, soaking in the honeysuckle of her hair, the wine on her tongue. Fervent. Ravenous. And then slow, and delicate, until they were both out of breath.

They stood teetering on the spot, drunk on each other, Jenner staring at their antics. And a warm glimmer doused the scene, and curled itself about Dr. Ramsey’s minimalist living room.

Thank you so much for reading this!

Title inspiration-

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[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch39: The Reunion Part 1: As Long As There’s Hope, We Have A Chance.

Intro: As the remaining Avengers continue their search for Tony, Steve and Natasha take a trip to Clint’s farm to find out what happened to the Archer and his family.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Discussions of miscarriage- if this is a trigger please stay away)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Please heed the warnings…biggedy up to my girl @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 38

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

It was eleven days post the Snap when Nat decided she couldn’t take it anymore and told Steve she wanted to go to Clint’s.

“I have to know.” She pleaded, looking at Steve. He sighed and glanced over her shoulder to Katie who merely shrugged offering him no back up. She knew where Nat was coming from, it was killing her not knowing what had happened to Tony.  

“Alright.” He acquiesced. “Let me grab a jacket.”

“I’ll meet you on the jet?” She asked. Steve nodded and watched her go before he turned to his wife who was studying him over her coffee. “If Barton was alive he would have been here by now.” Steve dragged a hand down over his beard as he dropped onto the sofa next to Katie. “I don’t understand why she doesn’t see or get that?”

"Put yourself in her shoes.” Katie sighed as she curled in on herself under a blanket on the sofa as a particularly nasty cramp hit her stomach. “You’d do the same thing for Bucky, or Sam, or me.”

"You know that I would.” He replied, noticing her shift in position and he frowned, but before he could say anything she placed her hand on his bearded cheek.

“Then just go, let her see. Plus, you could be wrong.”

“I suppose it’s happened from time to time.” He quipped and Katie smiled as he leaned over to press their foreheads together.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Not really.” She replied honestly, “But I’ve taken some painkillers, and Dr Kellet is coming over later. Thank fuck she wasn’t snapped.”

“I can ask Thor to go with Nat instead.” Steve looked at his wife who shook her head. “She asked you for a reason.” Katie said gently, “She trusts you. And I think if its bad news, she’s gonna need you, not Thor.”

“Are you sure?” He looked at her again and she nodded. He gave her a soft kiss, bumping his nose against hers, a soft smile on his face. “I love you, Doll.”

“I know.” She smiled back. “And I love you too, Soldier. Now go.”

As Steve had predicted, Barton’s farm was deserted. The two of them walked around, checking for any signs of life and Steve found his attention drawn to the picnic table not too far from where they had landed. It was loaded with condiments, plates, cutlery and scraps of food as a squirrel darted off the top from where it had been scratching through whatever other animals had left. Steve couldn’t help but remember the first time he had visited, when he had marvelled at the normality of Barton’s life outside the Avengers. Clint had kids, a wife, a complete alter ego. At the time Steve had almost been jealous, wondering if he and Katie could ever get that life. And then he’d gone and caused them both to be on the run, essentially ending that domestic dream.

And if he hadn’t, then Thanos certainly had when he’d snapped away their baby.

Natasha, meanwhile, had stalked straight into the house. Steve, hearing the door snap shut behind her turned and watched as she stomped straight back out and over to the barn at the far side of the yard

“Natasha?” he called.

She didn’t respond. With a sigh, Steve jogged after her, his boots slapping the damp grass of the lawn as he followed her into the barn. She dodged round the tractor in the middle, making her way to a door at the far side. Steve noticed a key pad at the side and Natasha clearly knew the code as a moment later there was a beep and it swung open to reveal what he supposed could only be referred to as an office of sorts, or as Katie would call it, a ‘man-cave’. There was a desk which sported some hi tech coms devices along with a computer. At the other side was a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall, a small couch, a stereo but none of that was what Natasha was looking at. She’d headed directly to some form of smaller room at the back and opened that to reveal a shelving unit of sorts. On one of them was an empty case that had clearly held a bow and arrow. Natasha then bent over and when she stood up Steve noticed she was holding a government issued ankle bracelet that had obviously at one point been around Clint’s ankle.

Not anymore, it was in two pieces.

“He’s alive,” Nat’s voice cracked. “Steve. he’s…he’s alive"

It was good news in a way, but then again, where was he? Surely if he and his family had survived then Clint would have brought them to the compound to find the rest of the team. But this looked like he had left in a hurry. Alone.

Which made Steve think that his family hadn’t been so lucky.

Natasha, satisfied that Clint was alive but clearly nowhere to be found at the farm, suggested they head home and see if they could track him from the compound. Steve hadn’t the heart to tell her that he didn’t think they’d have much of a chance and he knew deep down that if she was being honest, she probably thought the same thing. Instead, he nodded and they headed back over to the jet, which is when the pair of them heard something skulking around the side of the house. Natasha whipped out her gun as Steve spun, drawing himself up to full height. Exchanging a look, they both rounded the porch, cautiously approached, but as soon as Steve saw what it was, he relaxed.

“Hey buddy.” He courched down to pet the sandy coloured one-eyed dog that belonged to Clint, scratching behind his ear as the dog gave a little, desperate whine.

“Clint just left him.” Nat sighed, blinking back her tears. “He loved that dog, I don’t understand.”

“He won’t have been thinking straight, Nat.” Steve looked up at her, then around slightly, chewing the inside of his cheek before he made a decision. “We’ll take him home with us.” He stood up and, giving a sharp whistle, he was pleased to find the dog simply trotted behind him, up the ramp and happily curled up in a corner on a fleece Steve laid out for him.

“Do you know how old he is?” Steve asked, scratching the dog who rolled over, offering up his belly for a rub.

“Well when they found him the vets estimated he was about six months old…so seven now, give or take.” Natasha watched Steve who smiled, and made a cooing noise at the dog as he continued to pet him. “Never had you down as an animal lover, Rogers.”

“Always liked dogs.” He smiled. “I used to beg Ma for one all the time when I was a kid so she let us dog sit the neighbours. It set my asthma off, damned near killed me. So that put paid to that.” He took a deep breath and stood up, looking down at Lucky who flipped himself the right way up, pulling himself to a sitting position, his head cocking to the left. “Besides, I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“Katie’s right about you.” Natasha smiled. “You’re nothing but a huge softy under all that muscle.”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone.” His brow raised. “I got a reputation to uphold.”

As they settled into the cockpit, Steve glanced at Natasha who was looking at the pieces of Clint’s ankle tag which she’d brought with her for some reason. But as he watched her turn them over in her hands, he had a sudden thought that there was someone else they should probably check in on as well. He voiced his thoughts to Natasha who nodded, and plugged in the co-ordinates for an airfield in San Francisco which was about thirty miles away from the address Scott Lang had listed on his house arrest details.

In little over an hour and forty later they pulled up outside Lang’s house and both hopped off the bike. No one answered so Steve simply kicked the door in and, once they were inside, they found it had been deserted some time ago. The remnants of a breakfast lay on a plate on the side growing mold and there was a mug and a plate in the sink. Natasha headed up the stairs, as Steve checked around the ground floor to see if there was anything that might give them a clue. The only thing he noticed was a calendar. The date of the Snap was circled, 23rd April, and next to it was written ‘QR- Research’. He didn’t have a clue what that meant. Letting out a deep breath he walked back into the hall and Nat came back down the stairs.

“No sign of anything being packed from his closet and his bed wasn’t made.”

“Well, his calendar seems to suggest he had a research date or something but other than that…” Steve trailed off as he spotted the red-light on the answer phone was blinking. He glanced at Natasha who inclined her head towards it and he reached out hitting the play button.

“Hi, Daddy” a little girls voice spoke and Steve and Natasha exchanged a look. Steve knew Scott had a daughter, but it struck him then that he had never even bothered to ask her name. “I tried your mobile but you’re obviously busy doing cool stuff with Hope and Dr Pymm…Mom said that you should come over tonight for five now your tag is off and it’s your favourite for tea. Oh and I got a new ant farm for you to try out. I love you, byeeeee!”

“Scott took two years house arrest to be with his daughter.” Steve shook his head, raising his eyebrows. “He wouldn’t just run out.”

“Think we’ve seen enough?” Nat sighed.

“Yeah.” Steve looked at her. “Let’s go home.”

***** “Well,” Dr Kellet looked at Katie as she sat up on the bed in the medical area of the compound, “there’s nothing physically wrong. Everything looks okay. I expect the cramps will settle down soon. It’s not uncommon with miscarriages, Mrs Rogers to feel some discomfort, especially when there’s been a procedure involved. And this, well, it wasn’t a normal miscarriage either so…”

Katie nodded and looked at her hands.

“How are you?” The Doctor asked and Katie looked up. “And I don’t mean physically.”

“I’m okay, I suppose.” Katie let out a deep breath. “I mean, I know there’s nothing I can do about it but it doesn’t stop me wondering you know, if I could have done something or-”

“Even in the case with normal miscarriages there’s nothing that anyone can do.” The Doctor spoke softly. “It’s a natural reaction, Mrs Rogers, you’re still in the grief cycle.” She clicked her bag shut. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Give it time.”

“That’s what Steve keeps saying.” Katie mused, softly.

“How has he been?” “Amazing.” Katie smiled instantly. “He’s been an absolute rock, I know he’s upset himself but he just…” she trailed off. “It’s good that you have one another.” Dr Kellet smiled as she handed Katie her bag containing her pill. Neither of them spoke much, it was a silent gesture that made them both feel a little strange. They hadn’t even discussed the subject of her birth control going forward, but with everything that was going on Katie was suddenly struck with the thought that even the simple things like obtaining medical treatment was going to be much more difficult as they’d lost half the people that kept medical centres open.

Doctors, Nurses, receptionists, porters…

“I’m going to be meeting with the Local Authorities.” Dr Kellet looked at Katie as if she had read her mind. “All the remaining specialists have talked about how we need a, well, sort of a how we go forward planning session.” “Let me know if we can help in anyway.” Katie nodded. “That’s what we have the Stark Relief fund for.” Dr Kellet smiled before the two exchanged goodbyes and the Ob-Gyn left, leaving Katie alone with her thoughts which were disrupted when she heard her phone going. It was a message from Steve to tell her they were on their way home with good and bad news. Katie wasn’t sure if she wanted to know, to be honest, but she assumed the good news was Clint was alive, the bad news well, it didn’t bear thinking about. Deciding she would rather hear it in person, she replied and told him she’d leave some dinner for them both in the communal kitchen, and with that she headed off to find something he could cook.

****

Steve and Natasha landed home at just gone eight in the evening. And, given that they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, they headed straight to the kitchen with Lucky in tow and found two plates of lasagne waiting for them in the fridge, one substantially larger portion than the other. Whilst it was warming up. Steve gave Lucky a drink and then found some left over chicken and scraps of vegetables from the roast dinner the night before and placed them down in a dish for him to eat. Lucky wolfed his make shift dinner down, and so did they. Between them they ate their helpings, plus the leftovers, along with a helping of salad and then walked down the dimly lit corridors, dog on their heels. It was completely deserted.

“Feels odd doesn’t it?” Nat remarked “I mean it was always so busy.” “We will fix this Nat.” Steve spoke, and he wasn’t sure where his optimism was coming from, but seeing Clint was alive gave him more hope than he’d had that morning.

“Thank you for coming.” She said as they stopped by the stairs that led to her apartment.“I really appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Nat.” Steve smiled, giving her a hug.  “Do you wanna take our guest or should I?” he gestured down to the dog. She shook her head. “Katie has a soft spot for that dog, plus you said yourself you’re a dog person. I prefer cats.”

That didn’t surprise Steve in the slightest and he found himself smiling slightly as he replied. “Alright, see you in the morning,” before he watched her up the steps and was pleased to see some of her usual Black Widow swagger had returned.

“Come on, buddy.” He turned to the dog which obediently trotted besides him, tongue lolling, his one eye trained on the super soldier.

Katie was awake in bed, the speakers in the room playing what sounded like the Trouble Man soundtrack as she lay on her side, facing the door, her hands absentmindedly playing with the pillow she had clutched to her chest.

“Hey.” he said as he walked in and she looked up, smiling softly. He leaned over to give her a gentle kiss before he frowned. “You’re crying.” It was a statement, not a question, as it was something she seemed to do quite a lot of recently. He sat on the edge of the bed and with tender hands, wiped her tears away with his thumbs as she sat up. “Is everything okay, I mean with…”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about Sam, that’s all.”

Steve bowed his head, swallowing a little. Sam had been such a constant in their lives since they’d met him some four years previously, and two of those years they’d basically spent as house mates. It felt strange not to have him round, laughing and joking. Quite frankly, Steve felt like someone had ripped away his arm.

“I miss him too.” He admitted gently, and Katie looked at him, reaching up to cup his face. Steve sniffed a little before he shook his head.

“So, what did Dr Kellet say?” He changed the subject. “Nothing much. Says I’m physically alright, any discomfort I’m feeling should be gone soon.” “Do you need anything? Pain relief or…” She shook her head “I’m okay, honestly.” She took a deep breath. “So, what did you find?”

“Clint’s alive.” Steve stood and shrugged off his jacket, laying it on the back of the chair by the dressing table. Katie gave a sigh of relief which was short lived as she spotted the look on Steve’s face.

“What is it?”

“There’s no sign of him. He’d bust off his tag and left. I don’t think his family made it.” Katie bowed her head “They’re gone? All of them?”

“I think so yeah.”

“Fuck.” Katie screwed shut her eyes as her head fell back and she looked to the ceiling.

“We do, however have a guest.” Steve added, looking over at her.

“Who?”

“Lucky.” At the sound of his name the dog came pounding into the bedroom and jumped straight up on the bed.

“I couldn’t just leave him there.” Steve explained as Katie smiled and leaned over to scratch the dog behind his ears, promptly causing him to lay down, his head in Katie’s lap. She wrinkled up her nose.

“He stinks!”

“Yeah well he’s been alone since Clint left, God knows what he’s been up to or eating.” Steve shrugged as Katie looked down at the dog who rolled over for a belly scratch and she obliged. “And it doesn’t look like Lang made it either.” Steve finished heavily, watching as Katie tickled the animal.

Katie shook her head sadly, a tear falling onto the bed as Lucky rolled back over and moved to lick the side of her face before he jumped down on the floor.

“Nat wants to give Barton a few more days to cool off before we look for him but I’m not sure he wants to be found.“  Steve dropped back onto the side of the bed, removing his shoes and then his shirt thinking back to what he had seen at Clint’s. He laid his palms flat on the bed and dropped his head gently, letting out a sigh. He heard the sheets rustle as Katie edged her way closer to him, leaning her head on the back of his shoulder, nuzzling her cheek against him.

"How is Nat?” She asked.

“A little bit better now that we know he’s alive.”

Katie nodded as she dropped a kiss to the back of Steve’s shoulder before he stood up, “I’m gonna take a shower, I won’t be long.”

“Okay. Where’s Lucky gonna sleep?”

“I dunno.” Steve eyed up the dog who was now led on his back on the floor as if he’d been with them all his life “Looks like he’s comfy there.” “Yeah, it does.” Katie smiled.

Whilst Steve was in the shower Katie went into the closet and pulled out one of the old duvets for Lucky to sleep on, folding it up and placing it at the end of the bed. Steve was out of the shower shortly and climbed into bed besides Katie, reaching over and turning off the light before he settled down on his back and Katie cuddled up to him, head on his chest

“So what have you been up to today?” He asked gently, his hand rubbing her back.

“Still trying to get a lock on where Tony is. Other than that, well, I saw the doctor,  made dinner and then I wasn’t feeling great if I’m honest. So I came back here and Thor sat with me for a while, just talking.”

Steve took a deep breath, pulling her a little closer as they both fell silent for a moment, before she broke the silence.

“You now, knowing Clint is alive makes me feel a little more optimistic.”

“Optimistic?”

“Yeah, think about it.” Katie’s hand traced hapes on his bare chest “That’s six out of seven of the original Avengers confirmed alive. Tony has to be as well, it makes sense.” “I’m not following.” Steve frowned. She propped herself up, so that she was leaning on his chest, her eyes locking onto his.  “Thor was talking before, those stones, they have a magic beyond anything we know. Thor doesn’t believe for a second that who’s left is merely a coincidence and neither do I. It’s happened for a reason. Tony’s out there, I can feel it. We just need to find him.” “Honey, I understand what you’re saying-“ Steve started, he wasn’t sure he agreed. He didn’t believe in fate, it was bullshit. But before he could say anything else she cut him off.

“Please don’t.” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t what?”

“Take this hope away from me.” She whispered, her eyes still locked onto his in the dim light of the room “Apart from you it’s all I have right now.”

He sighed and nodded, chastising himself. If it made her feel better who was he to try and make her think any differently just because he did? Eventually they would have to face facts but now, well he just wanted her to get through the next few days, one at a time. With that in mind, he bit back his response and kissed her head.

“Sorry, you’re right. As long as there’s hope, we have a chance.” She kissed him gently before settling back down, and it wasn’t long before she drifted off. *****

A week or so later, Thor returned from another scouting trip with no news or sign of his people and this time he set deep into a brooding depression, appearing only for meals. Not even Katie could talk him round. Pepper was keeping herself busy liaising with who was left at Stark Industries, turning her attention onto how they could help after Katie had told her about Dr Kellet and the Health Authorities. It kept Pepper busy and gave her something to focus on.

Steve, Natasha and Rhodey spent most of their time talking to the people who were conducting the census and the authorities, whilst Katie buried herself away with Rocket and Bruce trying to calibrate the scanners to reach further into space, bouncing off the NASA satellites to boost their range. But they continued to get nothing. The elephant in the room, however, remained Fury’s pager. In the two weeks they’d had it no one had managed to get working, not even Rocket, despite his attempts to fix the booster that was attached to it.

As the Nineteenth post snap afternoon drew to a close, the Racoon let out a frustrated sigh and downed the small screwdriver he had been using and shook his head.

“If I had the right parts I could sort this easy, but without getting up to Contraxier I wouldn’t know where to start.” “What’s Contraxier?” Katie asked.

“A market-slash-junk-slash-booze hole” Rocket shrugged.” You can find most stuff there. That’s where I stole Thor’s eye.”

Katie knew better than to ask.

“It’s so goddamned annoying.” Rocket continued. “I mean it’s a simple technology too, they’re ten a credit. All it needs to do is produce a magnetic field across each of these coils and bingo.” Katie looked at Bruce whose head had instantly shot up.

“Say that again?” The Scientist instructed gently. “These coils.” Rocket pointed to the item as Bruce walked over. “Each of them needs a magnetic core and then all of the little individual magnetic forces add together and it powers the…what?” He asked as Bruce looked at Katie and she grinned.

“An electromagnet?” She shook her head, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “That’s all it is?” “I’ve no idea what you Terrans call it, but if that’s what that does then yeah.” “I can’t believe it.” Bruce picked up the device and slid it under the large magnifying glass Rocket had been using, letting out a groan of frustration. “I took my eye off the ball, I could have sorted this straight away…” “You’re kidding me right?” Rocket sighed “Seriously?”

“Bruce, we’ve had a lot going on, don’t...” Katie began to sooth the man who was now frantically rushing around, grabbing various bits of material as he continued to curse his stupidity.

With a final curse, he settled down at a seat, bending over the device, his nose barely an inch away from it.

“It was an electromagnet. A god-damned electromagnet.” Bruce shook his head as he stood up and placed the Pager on a plinth inside one of the glass cases he used to experiment in. He fiddled around with some wires, muttering to himself before standing back. As the three of them crowded round, the screen on the pager lit up and the word “SENDING” flashed across the screen.

Katie looked at Bruce, her face splitting into a smile as he looked at her, the corner of his mouth twisting upwards.

There was another glimmer of hope…

**** Chapter 39 Part 2