#I am so grateful the author finally allowed us to meet

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

YOU GUYS it’s @greeneyedivy’s birthday!!!! She’s one half of Fireleaf and my platonic soulmate and SO brilliant and I love her 🥰🥰🥰happy birthday, Ivy 💋💋💋💋

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 

Labor of Love - Part III

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: zero smut, explicit childbirth, water birth, difficult labour, contractions, amniotic fluid, breastfeeding, family fluff, expletives, this is a bit angsty but there’s a happy ending

Word Count: 7.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: the following depicts a very detailed, difficult, and medically inaccurate birth. This is graphic. I am quite literally going to simulate a birthing experience in your pov and I strongly suggest opting out now if anything pregnancy or birth related could make you uncomfortable. Finally, this is most definitely not medical advice, nor should this be used as a reference for what to expect during birth. This is a fanfiction about blue aliens, after all. With that being said, let’s welcome Ralak into fatherhood!! Enjoy 😊

Synopsis: Things were moving too fast until they weren't moving fast enough. The time has come and you're starting to doubt your capabilities. But thankfully your mate is here to guide you through this.

<- Previous

“Okay, Toto. Just do it. Go in there.” Zu’té sounds breathless as he speaks to himself, turning around to face the door. He hears your whimper and his jaw tightens. “Shit. Okay. Right.” Just as he raises his hand to pull back the curtain, he hears a winded voice.  “Brother.”

Zu’té spins around to face the voice of an angel—Ralak.

“Oh, thank Eywa. Thank you great mother. Thank you.” Zu’té chants in relief despites being one of the least spiritual persons someone can meet. He knew deep down that Eywa answered his call. 

Zu’té makes eye contact with the dishevelled and worn out giant. His attention is immediately drawn to the lengthy gash on his shoulder that seems to have been stitched up in a haste. 

“Ay’ana.” Ralak growls when he sees him staring.

The colour drains from Zu’té ‘s face, but before he can respond, Ralak’s ears perk up when they hear what seems to be a low whimpering. It sounds as if you're straining and struggling to breathe. His eyes dart behind Zu’té and then quickly snap back to his brother, filled with panic. 

Zu’té just barely shakes his head, urging himself to focus on the most important thing right now. 

“Your mate is in labour, tak.”

Ralak’s eyes widen at the confirmation. He knew it. He felt it back inland. 

Without another passing second, Ralak pushes past Zu’té and enters his marui. You hear the faint flap of the door and try to shift yourself in order to keep some level of decency.  

“I said to leave.” You’re breathless, gripping relentlessly onto the wooden stilt.

Ralak’s frozen in place, taking in the sight of you labouring by yourself. One that no matter how painful, is a sight he has always longed to see. A sense of pride fills his chest, his mate is showing such great strength that it’s admirable. Bringing life to his child is something he will eternally be grateful for. 

But then he sees your fingernails. How they've gone dull from all your gripping and scraping, and his sense of pride quickly mixes with shame. Shame that he has left you alone in this. 

Your laboured breathing is audible, practically wheezing as you struggle to breathe through the last lap of this contraction. You keep holding your breath and it’s more than evident from the red tinge in your face. Breathing is no longer the thing that you’re most focused on anymore, it’s the pressure between your legs.

He doesn't want to startle you but he can’t just watch you suffer any longer. He approaches you cautiously, examining you in attempts to discern how far into your labour you are. 

You're glazed in a layer of sweat, glimmering in the faint light of the first sliver of sun. Your shoulders rise and fall rapidly as you pant faster than a viperwolf pup, and your belly is low and firm as it tightens from the contraction. 

Ears laid flat to your skull and brows tightened, you curl over and clutch your stomach. He releases his clenched jaw and lessens the distance between the two of you. He gently places his hands on your lower back, pressing into you with the ball of his palm. 

The warmth alone provides a bit of relief for you, allowing you to momentarily catch your breath.

“Zu’té.” You hiss under your breath, surprised he’s even come in, much less laid a hand on you.

You let go of the marui stilt to swat away his hand with a loud smack. The reminder of you labouring in the presence of another man that isn’t him makes him wince. 

“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak husks quietly, using his thumbs to rub circles into your back. Your ears lift from your skull and perk up when you realise it’s your mate, back home from the excursion.

Tears overflow and spill down your cheeks. Tears of pain. Tears of exhaustion. Tears of relief. 

“Ralak.” You let out a nasally sob, unable to look at him just yet due to the contraction still rippling through you. You speak between your moans, voice cracking.

“You’re back. You’re here. It’s happening, lak. He’s coming. And I—I thought you’d miss it. I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought… I thought—”

“Alright, alright. I am right here with you, tanhì. Mawey, mawey [calm, calm].” He hums steadily, already reaching behind him for his kuru. “How long have you been in labour?”

“D-Don’t know.” Your breath catches in your throat and your knees begin to tremble. “Too l-long.” 

Ralak’s heart throbs in his chest at the thought of you enduring this on your own for that long. The contraction is finally subsiding, and you're eager to find relief in your mate. You exhale shakily and grip his wrist as you try to straighten your spine. 

“Easy.” Ralak is quick to help you to your feet, holding you by your hip and arm. “Can you stand?”

You nod your head as you slump back into him regardless. “It’s happening, ‘lak.” You wheeze, resting your head on his chest. Despite the slight sting, Ralak smiles, joyful to know his son will soon be born. 

“It is, my tanhì.” Ralak hums, swaying side to side with you against his body as he brings his glowing tendrils towards the end of your braid. He’s spent but he knows the exhaustion he feels is nothing in comparison to yours. “I am so sorry I have left you alone in this.” 

“‘ts not your fault, my love.” You murmur, lulling your head against his chest. “...not your fault.”

Though your contraction has passed, the pressure in your pelvis has a steady, constant groan vibrating in your throat. It’s a feeling that won’t let up, and the further you progress the more intense it gets. It feels like your body’s at its limit, unable to accommodate your babe any longer. 

“Mmmn—tsaheylu, please.” Your plea is drawn out and low, unaware that he’s already one step ahead of you. 

When he makes the bond, the pressure is instantly lightened but is quickly replaced with a sharp pain in your shoulder and back. He sucks in a sharp breath and grimaces from the sudden pain and pressure that flows into him.

You gasp and clutch your left shoulder, whipping your head around to look behind you. Immediately, you catch sight of his wound. 

Fresh blood spurts out between the ragged stitches and globbed over herbal concoction, dribbling down his chest and back in thin streams. 

“Shit.” You curse, ripping your queue away from him, abruptly severing the bond—causing the pressure to come back tenfold. “Fuck—you’re injured.” 

“I am fine.” Ralak insists, reaching for your kuru again.

“Tsaheylu will infect it.” You insist, keeping your kuru away from him. 

“Ke tare [it doesn’t matter].” He says sharply, catching his tone and softening it. “Allow me, please.” 

Ralak reaches for your kuru again, eager to make it up to you—to take the pain for whatever time you have left. But you shake your head firmly. 

The fact that making tsaheylu caused it to rupture and bleed, a gash that size will surely worsen with the influence of your labour. Ralak respects your wish, although he’s in disagreement with it. He’d never make the bond without your consent and he feels as if he’s already missed too much of your labour to continue the argument. 

“…what happened?” You ask shakily, terrified to know the answer. “Wh-What did they do to you?” You feel yourself begin to tear up.

Seeing him so hurt always made your heart heavy. 

Your question catches him off guard, bringing him back to the moment he saw his own karyu. He swallows, having trouble keeping his calm and figuring out what to say. He has no intention of keeping it from you, but truthfully it isn’t the right time to speak of such matters. Not when you’re nearing the peak of the birth of your firstborn.

“Not now. You are labouring.” Ralak says sternly yet gently, reshifting his focus and concern back to you. 

And if it weren’t for the unbearable heavy sensation in between your legs you would’ve protested. You nod lazily as your breath hitches repeatedly, your hand finding its way to the lowest part of your abdomen to press into it. Your lengthy groans start up again, you can feel your entire body begin to tense up.

“Another? So soon?” Ralak’s voice falters, concern now evident in his tone. He steadies himself behind you, pressing his hands into your lower back once more. 

“Pressure. ‘ts too much.” You pant, leaning forward and using your free hand on the marui stilt for support. 

“Pressure?” Ralak tries his best to understand what you mean. Thinking that he’s pressing too hard into your back, he eases up and apologises. You shake your head and quickly replace your hand onto the lowest part of your abdomen with his. 

“Pressure!” You yelp the word like a plea for help, hoping he’ll get it without you needing to explain. Talking is becoming more difficult with each passing contraction. When he does finally understand, his eyes widen and brow bones jump. 

“Ah—he is moving down, tanhì.” Ralak tries to speak calmly, sliding his other hand over your stomach. His fingers smooth over your skin, taking in its heat and supple texture. He then feels it tighten even more, contracting right under the pads of his digits.

“Tewti [whoa].” 

It’s the first he’s ever felt a contraction, despite being a mandated witness to numerous first breath rituals in the clan. He begins counting under his breath, trying to gauge your progression by determining how long they’re lasting. But before he can get into the double digits your low grumble turns into a high pitched cry. 

Ralaks ears immediately go flat, hearing a cry like that rip from your throat makes his heart tighten in his chest. He shuffles closer to you upon realising that you're curling over from the pain. Moving quickly, he supports your body weight with one hand to your belly and another over your chest. 

“Ralak!” You cry out, “Please! Do something!”

With that, Ralak’s hands slip back down to your lower abdomen, cupping your belly and gently pull upward. This always helped if the baby was sitting too low, relieving some of the heaviness and pressure on your bladder.

Instantaneously, the pressure relieves. Your cry dissipates into a loud sigh, your downturned lips flipping up into a small smile of relief. 

“Thank you—” Pop. “—ugh” Gush. 

You’re silent, but your face screws into a grimace as the pain rushes back in with a vengeance. You look down in a painful daze, feeling the trickle of liquid down your thighs and legs. Through blurred vision, you watch as a pool forms at your feet, as well as Ralaks. 

“Shit.” Ralak mutters under his breath, recognizing what’s just happened. 

His head whips around to the sound of the flap of the marui door. He looks behind him, met with the panicked, bulging eyes of Zu’té, who’s staring intently at the scene unfolding before him. He's just worked up enough courage to enter the room.

Zu’té finally makes eye contact with Ralak, and Ralak nudges his chin in the direction of the village, mouthing—‘Get a healer’. Zu’té nods and takes off at full tilt. 

“…fuck‘m sorry. My waters...” You mumble, fingers digging into his arms in attempts to keep you standing, to no avail. 

Your knees buckle beneath you, and you lose all ability to keep yourself on your feet. Ralak supports you, moving down with you rather than trying to keep you standing. He slowly and gently lowers you to the floor, away from the growing puddle. 

“What for? Your water breaking? No need to be.” Ralak chuckles breathily, trying to make it obvious that it’s no big deal—he’s unbothered by it.  

“Me-messed you up.” You grunt, breath straining as you lean all your weight back into him. 

“You did no such thing.” He reassures you through a quick breath, adjusting you into a more comfortable position.

You lay on top of him, shifting onto your side and off the sharp throb in your lower back. You clutch his bicep with one hand and keep the other snug under your bump. 

He’s more so in an awkward position than not, his back now against the base of the bed and his right leg propped up to keep you from rolling back. He has no issue staying put in this position if it means some sort of relief for you. 

But your groans only deepen, lengthening and ending with small grunts.

“You alright, mama?” He checks in on you through a whisper, knowing that things move quickly once the water breaks.

You nod your head, trying to be strong, but he can see right through it. And you know it. You sputter out a sob and shake your head, finally admitting the truth—finally facing reality.

“I know, I know, tìyawn. Almost there.”

Even without tsaheylu, he is able to tell how long you have left just based on your sounds and body language. With each little grunt he notices that your face shifts to a brighter shade of pink.

He takes note of your tail, and how it’s now tightly coiled, tucked to the base of your tailbone—out the way. Your shoulders are bowed and your stomach sits low, hard as a rock. 

“Oh!—Eywa, ple-ase.” You mumble a plea, eyes squeezing shut when you come to the height of your contraction. “Mmm’fuck—fuck.” 

“A little longer.” He places a firm, comforting kiss on the temple of your head. “It will soon be over.” 

You feel Ralak’s hand firmly patting your lower back, attempting to put the fire out. But now the pressure’s released, the pain is only more intense—spreading and morphing into a new feeling altogether. 

“Ralak—Ralak!” You panic, your head rolling side to side as you strive against this new sensation. 

“Right here with you.” He hums, pressing hard into your lower back with the ball of his palm. “What do you need?” 

You begin frantically tugging at your soaked loincloth, trying your hardest to get it off of you. Ralak quickly takes over, untethering the knot and slipping it off you.

“Need to—aahaa! I think he’s—haah—he’s—he’s coming!” You yell, unable to fight the new feeling. An urge you’ve never felt before. The urge to push. “Ralak—I’m scared!” 

“Listen to your body.” Your mate encourages you with a steady and calm voice. 

His gaze snaps down to witness your leg rising into the air and your hand hooking under the back of your knee. His hand cups over yours, helping you support the weight of your suspended leg. 

Ralak manoeuvres himself in a way that allows him to support you and see what’s happening. He gently tugs your leg back a little further, having a proper look. He can see just how swollen and tender the flesh between your legs is—ripe and ready. It’s time. 

“Muntxate [wife]. Bear down if you need to.” 

“I—I—urgh!” You cry out, finally giving into the urge to push, allowing your body to bear down in the way it’s been trying to. Holding your breath, you tuck your chin to your chest and sink your fingernails into Ralak’s bicep, pushing as best as you can in this position. 

“Good, good. Good push, tanhì.” His voice is hushed but steady as he watches in awe as your body flourishes. “Syeha si [breathe].”

As the urge subsides, you release your breath and gasp for air a few times. If he’s really coming, you don’t want it to be here. You had both discussed doing this in the comfort of your own lake. The lake in the cave, where your relationship with him had blossomed to begin with. 

“Not here.” You say out of breath, legs shaking terribly.

Ralak leans in closer to you, listening carefully to decipher your murmurs. You keep your eyes closed shut, unable to open them anyway. They feel as heavy as you do, weighed down with exhaustion and agony.

But as you feel your stomach tighten and the urge rush back in, you realise that time lessening. “Water—get me in the water, please!”

Ralak hesitates, scanning your body to see if moving you in this state is the right thing to do. He watches as you tense up in agony as you contract, and quickly the realisation dawns upon him, too. At this rate, the babe will be here at any moment.

And if your wishes are to give birth in the water, now is the time to fulfil them.

Ralak scoops you up into his firm clutch, rises to his feet, and rushes out the door. Taking his time down the steps, your grip around his neck tightens just as a groan rumbles in your chest. Your legs squirm in his grasp as they try to snap open. 

“Hurry! He’s coming!” You grunt, burying your face into the crease of his peck, biting down to fight the feeling. 

Ralak glances down at you a few times, brows gathered from the worry that plagues his heart. He’s holding you tight, so as not to let the wiggle of your body loosen his grip.

“Here.” He huffs out, nearing the entrance of the cave. 

Immediately immersing himself hip-deep into the water, he moves hastily, submerging you as he makes his way over to the ledge and helps you into position.

The ledge makes a smaller, more shallow pool in the lake, perfect for you to sit in with your back supported by the bank. 

Water is up to your chest, slushing and splashing against your neck as you desperately readjust yourself to get comfortable. Your head is perched on the bank of the lake, hands spread across to hold onto the rocky surface. Your toes grip the floor, rooting yourself to the ground to keep you stable, knees bobbing at the water's surface. 

“Fuck! Ralak!” You cry out, feeling your body act on its own accord.  

Ralak is already in front of you, one hand on your bump as the other slips between your thighs to feel your progression. All while he’s looking down at you with nothing but concern etched into his features, unsure of what more he can do for you without tsaheylu.

He witnesses your face turn red as you hold your breath again, using as much force as you can to push him out. 

Ralaks hand moves from your bump to cup your cheek, his fingernails raking away the streaks of sweaty hair plastered to your face and tucking them behind your ear. 

“Syeha si, tanhì [breathe].” He reminds you gently, exaggerating a breathing pattern you had rehearsed a few weeks ago, and you try to match his rhythm. 

But you’re stuttering and sobbing, unable to establish a pattern and push at the same time. Your back is on fire and it feels as if the baby isn’t moving any further down. 

The contraction finally ends with a loud wheeze and your head slumps back into the rocky bank. You shake your head as you struggle to open your heavy lidded eyes. 

Your vision is blurry and spotty. You glance down in a haze and lock eyes for a moment with the worried giant before you, and then you feel yet another contraction wash over you. They are on top of one another—back to back—with little to no break between them. 

“Fuck. Please. Please. Plea—” You weep weakly, eyes slamming shut as your chin makes contact with your chest, cutting off your pleas with a lengthy, guttural grunt. You push with what you have left, giving yourself a throbbing headache as a result. 

“Pushing so, so well.” Ralak praises you with a hushed voice, feeling something press against his fingers. 

As you strain, you feel the delirium set in. The panic of not knowing if you’re capable of doing this. Every inch of you more than ached, yet some parts of you have even gone numb from how long this has been going on.

You can barely get a proper breath in much less breathe the way you should when you’re pushing. You feel like your body may give out at any moment. 

“Keep going, y/n.” He encourages you, seeing your exhaustion and feeling you stop. 

“Ralak…lak.” You let out a sob and try to relax your body, but end up collapsing back into the rocky surface again. “‘m tired, lak.” You mumble shakily between laboured pants, “...want him out.” 

“I hear you.” Ralak tries to reassure you, now supporting both your trembling legs as they threaten to give out. “He will soon be out, tanhì. But you have to keep going.”

“No—oh, no, no.” You cry, tensing up from another agonising contraction. You didn’t think they could get any more painful. “No more. No more, please.”

“Come now, big push for me.” Ralak instructs softly, repositioning himself to help deliver his son. 

“Ugh—!” You scream, giving all you have left into this push. Beads of sweat roll down your temples at a concerning speed, and your face shifts to an even more vibrant shade of red. “Please! Please get him out of me!” 

“He’s coming out, tìyawn. Keep pushing, almost there. Almost there.” Ralaks voice is low and laced with panic, despite his greatest efforts to keep calm and collected.

This cycle repeats for some time, instilling worry into both you and Ralak. You’re having a difficult time, and it’s taxing on your body to keep this going.

Truthfully he can tell that you’re really struggling, and he’s getting a little more worried as time passes. But then he feels the baby press against his fingers and hope fills him once more. 

“That’s it. Push just like that, y/n.” 

“Fuck—” And just as last time, you collapse back into the bank, depleted with nothing left to give. You begin to think that maybe everything you’ve been hearing was right. 

Maybe you can’t do this. 

“I…I can’t.” You sputter defeated, letting your legs go limp either side of you.

“Mawey [calm]. You can. Your body is made for this.” He reaffirms for not only you but also himself, he’s too afraid to lose you. No, he can’t lose you, too. He’s experienced too much loss. 

“’s not comin’.” You shake your head lethargically, feeling faint. “He’s stuck.”

Hearing that makes his heart sink. Ronal’s words echo in his mind, putting him in a frantic state. He quickly composes himself, probing the tender flesh to help stretch it out. He feels something slimy and silken, and his ears perk up.

He’s right there. So close. 

“He’s not. I feel him, he is right there.” Ralak tries to keep calm for you, attempting to reassure you as he quickly thinks about the next best move.

Zu’té isn’t back with the healer and there's not much else he can do. He looks down at you, taking in just how uncomfortable you look as he tries to imagine just how much pain you’re in. With a position like this, no wonder your back hurts. His eyes widen. 

No wonder your progression has stalled. 

“Move with me. Easy.” Ralak croons, carefully tucking his arm under your back to sit you up slowly. He throws your limp arms around his neck, and brings you to your knees and then your feet—supporting your weight as you get there. 

“Lak, Lak!” You grimace and whimper as you try to work with your mate—your body is already so sore and weak that any movement is torturous. 

“Need to get you off your back.” Ralak huffs, holding you in position until you’ve adjusted. You hold on to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you settle into a squat. “A few more pushes, mama.”  

“Haa—no, no.” You squeal in desperation, feeling his head descend even further down now that gravity has come into play.

Then your belly stiffens. 

You bite the flesh of your cheek until you taste blood and bury your face into the dip of his collarbone—refusing the urge to push. But the instinct overrides you completely, leaving you in a panicked and delirious state. 

“Take h-him out! Make the cut!”

“No, no cut. No cut.” Ralak utters a throaty whisper, pushing down into your lower back. “Bear down, muntxate [wife].” 

“Ple—ase.” Your broken plea comes out as a low grunt as you shake your head frantically, driving your dulled nails into your mate. “It hurts, it hurts!” 

“I know, ma’ y/n. But you must bear down, please.” His voice trembles, filled with worry, but his words are firm—non-negotiable. You continue to shake your head, fighting with what you have left, your laboured breathing deepening as you run out of strength to resist. 

Ralak’s worry quickly turns into pure panic. Panic that you’ve really given up. Panic that you really may not make it out of this. That…he’ll lose you. He knows what he must do, despite it being against your wishes.

He gives your kuru a quick stroke, his way of warning you. It sends a shiver through you, but the pain is so excruciating that you can’t resist this, too. 

Ralak quickly makes tsaheylu, bringing a brief moment of pure, instant relief, just enough to bring you out of your delirium. His wound reopens, burning and weeping. But not even that could prepare him for your pain. 

It feels like each vertebrae in his spine instantaneously shifts out of place. It is excruciating. And strange—that urge to push. He can feel it too. It’s like an itch deep under your skin. Irresistible and uncontrollable. 

“Push!” Ralak groans loudly, prompting you to bear down with whatever strength you can muster up.

You scream at the top of your lungs, achieving a frequency and volume so high it can be heard from the village. Ralak’s fingers quickly probe the tenderness between your legs to check your progress once more. Finally, he feels the baby’s head begin to emerge. 

“Perfect push, tanhì. Keep going, keep going.” Now he’s winded, flustered and speaking breathily. 

Your scream is cut off by your vulgar tongue, “Fuck! Fuck—it burns!” You cry out, feeling a bolt of white hot fire split you in two, making you jerk back. “It’s burning!” You sob, trying to wiggle away from the flame. 

“He’s crowning. His head, shit—” He huffs, realising that the babe is coming too quickly, not giving you enough time to adjust, “Stop pushing.” His fingers probe the taut skin in attempts to prevent you from possibly tearing, “Breathe him out. Just as we practised.”

Your fingers dig even deeper into him as your head snaps up to shoot him a deadly glare. Wasn’t he just demanding that you push? To ‘listen to your body’?

You take deep, intentional breaths, eyes flicking down to search the cloudy water as you try your hardest to resist. He can feel your frustration through tshayelu, he can hear your thoughts. 

“Syeha si, syeha si [Breathe, breathe]. Let yourself adjust. Let your body push for you.” Ralak tries to explain, using the bond to his advantage and setting a steady breathing pattern. 

‘I can’t do it.’ You think to him, unsure if you’re even doing it right.

“You can. You are. Just like that.” Ralak works with you, probing the tender skin once more as he feels the head emerge. “A little longer.”

But yet, you feel yourself giving in. 

“Can't. Help. It.” You whimper, your breath stuttering as it catches in your throat. Tears roll relentlessly down your cheeks. You need him out. 

Now. 

You drop to your knees and tuck your chin to your chest. “Haah!” Your breath finally releases, and a guttural, lengthy grunt follows after. 

Ralak feels you push — hard. He readies himself, steadying his stance as he traces his fingers around the circumference of his unborn’s head to help guide him out. 

He is, too, looking down into the murky water, trying his best to see what’s going on. All he can do is rely on his sense of touch and the feeling through the bond to help him. 

“Ngh—ugh!” You feel a pop between your legs and the pressure minutely releases. 

Just then Ralak feels the rest of your baby’s head emerge. He can feel the curls of his silken hair, and how they’re laid flat to his skull. Ralak nearly breaks down right there, but fights the array of emotions bombarding him all at once to recenter his focus back on you. 

“His head is out.” He croaks, supporting the babe's head with the palm of his hand. “Hair like yours.” 

Ralak gently unlatches your grip on his shoulder and guides your hand under the water and towards his. Aside from wanting you to feel what he’s feeling, he’s hoping that this will give you the strength to keep going.

You feel the sliminess first, and then the soft, velvety texture of your son's head. You weep, slumping your head into Ralak's chest as you focus on gathering as much energy during the small break from the contractions. 

It’s incredible to know that your body created this life. 

“Oh god…it’s him.” You barely whisper.

“You are so strong, you know that? Mighty.” Ralak hums, cupping the back of your head with his hand. You lift your head to look at him and he rests his forehead against yours, searching your eyes with his. “One more push for me, okay?” 

You nod your head, bottom lip curled over to touch your chin. His hand slips from your neck to your cheek, his thumb wiping away one tear of a thousand. The tightening of your stomach has you tensing up, gripping onto him for support. You groan and moan until the contraction reaches its peak, where you begin to grunt and push against the budding pressure.  

He steadies himself once more, quickly slipping his hand off your cheek back into the water. He holds your son's head with one hand, and hooks the fingers of his other hand under his son's left shoulder. It pops out with the help of his gentle tug, and you bear down even harder. 

“A little more.” He encourages you, waiting patiently to feel his son's right shoulder emerge. He feels the bridge of his shoulder and Ralak jumps into action, carefully guiding his son's shoulder out. “Perfect, there it is.” Ralak mumbles quickly, hyperfocused on ensuring a safe delivery. 

You whimper when the burning sensation comes back, shoving your forehead into his chest. It’s hard to breathe. Every fibre in your being has you wanting to hold your breath for more leverage to get him out. Your noises fade to little choked muffles, quick and uneven. 

“Breathe.” Ralak chokes out, feeling your burning lungs through tsaheylu. He immediately establishes a somewhat steady breathing pattern for you to sync into.

“Pwah!” You let out a shaky, harsh breath of air, panting as you try to sync with him. “Urgh—ah!” you groan as you push, surprised by how long this torturous contraction is lasting. 

“Please get him out of me, please, please.” You whisper into his chest.

“Shoulders are out, tanhì” Ralak huffs next to your ear, tenderly rubbing his cheek against your temple. 

“Catch him, Lak.” You wheeze, your legs shaking uncontrollably from carrying your weight for such a long time. He wants so badly to do the rest for you, now really sensing your weariness through the bond. But he couldn’t, all he could do was support you through every second of this. 

“I have him, muntxate [wife].” He whispers, lips pressed to your ear. “Last push.”

A hoarse, empty cry evades your trembling lips as you bear down a final time. Suddenly the pressure releases entirely, and you feel your son slip out of you and into Ralaks hands. You let out a loud moan of relief, immediately pulling away from Ralak’s chest to look down into the water. 

“He’s out. He’s here, tanhì. You did it, mama. You did it.” Ralaks cracked voice is full of relief. “He—he is so small.”

You fall back onto your behind, breaking tsaheylu with your mate. Your eyes search for your newborn but you can’t make anything out of the murkiness of the water.

You look up to witness tears fill Ralak’s eyes for the first time as he holds the baby underneath the water. Your back hits the rocky bank of the lake in solace knowing your son is in safe hands. 

Then Ralak grits his teeth and lets go.

“Lak. Ralak.” Your panicked, hoarse voice calls for him, but you’re too weak to get up. “Ho-Hold him, Ralak.” 

Ralak looks like he’s fighting his own instinct to scoop up his young and cradle him in his chest. And that’s because he is. It’s taking everything in him not to do just that, but he knows that this is the way. The right way. 

“Mawey [calm]. First breath.” Ralak gently reminds you of the Metkayina ritual. He knows he must do this, especially in the absence of the Tsahik. “Let him swim.” 

You watch intently as the water slowly clears, revealing the wiggle of your newborn's body. “Help him.” You plead with trembling lungs, having a hard time watching this unfold. 

Ralak stays close to his newborn, ready to jump into action in an instant. But the babe rises to the top all on his own—swimming directly from the womb. You burst into tears, chest swelling with pride and every emotion under the moon.

Nonetheless, Ralak taps his bum softly, his other hand hovering underneath his son's feet in the case he needs to intervene. This is the first moment where your son has made you both proud.

Your son breaks the water with his face, chubby cheeks and puckered lips. You hear the sound of his little, first breath — pwah. His eyes open as he looks around, catching sight of his father scooping him into his arms. 

“You did it, my little one.” Ralak whispers with a crack in his voice, shifting his gaze over to you. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.” He repeats in absolute shock and awe, and this time you know he’s talking to you, too. 

Ralak holds his son close to his chest and away from his weeping wound, using his body heat to keep him warm as he makes his way over to you. The babe wails when he catches your scent, squirming in his fathers arms as if he were trying to get to you on his own terms. 

“She is right here, son.” He whispers, bouncing him a bit as he places him in your arms, helping you hold him for the first time. “Hold his head.”

Your arms feel like jelly and they won’t stop shaking, but you’re eager to hold your newborn. Ralak tucks himself closely at your side, keeping a precautionary hand under your arm. Immediately, he calms, gurgling and cooing as he listens to the familiar and comforting thump of your heart. It’s all he’s heard in the past ten months. 

Teary eyed, you look down through blurred vision, taking in the sight of your son. Every feature. Every stripe. Every freckle. His dark turquoise skin, golden eyes, pointed pink ears. A tail like his father, but five fingered, like his mother. He is the perfect mix, the perfect balance. 

“You’re perfect.” You whisper, admiring his little coos and floppy, soft ears that lay flat against him. His head turns towards your bosom, puckered lips brushing against your top in search of your nipple. “Hungry? Hm?” You hum shakily. 

Ralak is quick to help you, helping you position him just right. Your son shakes his head as he tries to latch for the first time, and both you and Ralak watch quietly with wobbly smiles plastered on your faces.

With two fingers, Ralak presses down onto your breast, angling your nipple in a way that makes it easier for you and him. You can’t help the grimace on your face when he does latch and suckle, but it quickly turns into a smile as you watch him feed for the first time. 

“Rak’äni.” Ralak proudly announces the name of his first born son.

You look up at him, witnessing a tear or two roll down his cheek. You’d never seen this giant cry like this before. The past two days have been too much.

“Rak’äni.” You repeat with a smile, Ralaks eyes finally meeting yours. He leans in and meets your lips with his, kissing you tenderly. He lingers there forehead to forehead as he pulls away, allowing himself to be vulnerable—to soak in his emotions. 

“I love you. I see you, y/n. For life. And beyond.” Ralak sheds a few more tears as he speaks the words.

“Nìt’iluke [neverendingly; forever].” You say wearily, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open. 

Snap. 

Ralak hears the sound of a branch breaking underneath the weight of a person's foot. Ralak looks behind him, hand under the water clutching the dagger on his hip, ready to protect his family. He sees the silhouette of a woman standing at the opening of the cave, basket on her hip as the last rays of sun shine through her. 

The first eclipse is starting.

Is that how long this has gone on for?

His heart skips a beat as his eyes narrow to see who it is…to see if it’s how he suspects it may be. Did she really follow us?

He then sees a taller figure emerge behind her, then another, and another…and another. And soon he counts seven heads in total and it dawns on him.

It’s your family—and his.

“We have visitors, little one.” Ralak coos quietly at his baby, his thumb just barely gliding over his cheek. “Are you alright, mama?” His voice sounds muffled and distant, as if he were at the other side of the lake. “The healer is here.” 

“Tired...Hurts.” You mumble, letting your eyes fall shut.

You feel Ralak’s gentle touch as he tucks himself behind you, supporting you with his body. His arm is under yours, keeping the babe safely above water as he feeds. You can fully relax your body now, sinking into your mate’s pillowy chest. 

“Rest.” Ralak whispers. “I have you.”

“You won’t believe, brother. The tshahik is also in labour. And I couldn’t find you…I heard y/n scream and—oh…” Zu’té lowers his voice to a whisper, catching sight of the freshly born babe in your arms. “Tak. He’s here.” His voice falters even more as he nears his blood.

His only family outside of Ralak. He’s awestruck, taking in all the different features of a new kind as he feeds. The babe's skin resembles the depth of his mother, but the tone of his father. Stripes like an omaticaya. Tail like a Metkayina. Five-fingered.

Truthfully, the length of his stare has Ralak feeling a little uneasy and a bit protective. 

“Toto.” Ralak hasn’t called him that in years, “Meet your nephew—Rak’äni.” 

“Rak’äni.” Zu’té repeats through a whisper, keeping his distance from the babe. “Fyole [beyond perfection].” 

Ralak relaxes, smiling proudly. “He is.” 

Zu’té fumbles with a small satchel on his hip, taking something out of it in a haste. He hands Ralak something small, something delicate. It's weaved to perfection, with colours of the sunset.

"For him." Zu’té says in a hushed voice, unfolding the garment to show his brother. It's a hat, an entirely new concept to the Metkayina. Ralak looks at him, a little confused, eyes bouncing between the strangely shaped item and his brother. "For the child's head."

Ralak smiles, his furrowed brows relaxing when he understands. Zu’té raises his brows and gently nudges it closer to the babe in your arms. Ralak nods, watching as Zu’té slips it on his head as gently as he can.

"Toto, that is very kind—"

"Don't flatter yourself." Zu’té cuts his brother short, pulling back to see the finished result of his hard work. It fits perfectly. "I had plenty of time."

Zu’té steps back, giving you two some space.

A sudden splash of the water makes Ralak jolt in his skin, but he calms down once he realises that it’s the healer situating herself next to you so she can tend to you. He isn’t all here right now, either.

“You did well, sa���nu.” You recognize her voice and strain to open your eyes, vaguely seeing her features.

She was at all your lessons with Ronal. The only one who didn’t look at you like some sort of alien. The only one who treated you with respect.

“All on your own. You need to be strong for a little while longer, alright? This may hurt.”

She begins gently massaging your abdomen under the water—a step that is empirical for healing. You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut, shoving your head back into Ralak, who is visibly trying to withhold his look of displeasure.

“I get that look quite a bit. It’ll be over soon, sempu.”

You look down with foggy vision and see the hat on your baby's head. Immediately, you know who made it. You turn your head, looking directly at Zu’té and smile, mouthing 'thank you'. Zu’té returns the smile with a slight nod, remaining silent.

A high-pitched, excited voice has both you and Ralak turning your heads to see your little sister. 

“Woah! Mama, look!” Tuk exclaims, tugging Neytiri by the hand to get a closer look. 

“Shh, Tuk. He is asleep.” Neytiri hushes her youngest, nuzzling her into her side. The others stay quiet as they approach, crouching down at the bank of the lake to look at their new family member. 

“I am so proud of you, my daughter. He looks like you.” Neytiri whispers, raking her fingers through your knotted hair.

You exhale a shaky breath and smile weakly, leaning into your mothers comforting touch.

Jake looks down at the suckling babe in your arm, eyes burning as they gloss over with tears. “You did it, babygirl.” 

Hearing your fathers words after so many years of feeling like a failure, you can’t help the sob you sputter out. 

“D-Daddy.” You cry shakily, breath hitching. “It was s-so h-hard.” 

“I know, baby. I know. But you did it. ” He coos at his own baby, rubbing your shoulder as he looks over to Ralak. “You both did.” He smiles with his son-in-law, cupping the back of his head with his other hand. 

Neteyam and Lo’ak wait patiently at the back, not wanting to crowd you. Neteyam is particularly worried for you, he’s been beating himself up for not checking on you when he knew deep in his gut that he should have.

Lo’ak is… nervous, despite his big talk about being the best uncle. Your parents pull back, allowing some space for you, Ralak and the healer. 

“Guys.” You sniffle, craning your neck to look at them. “C-Come see your nephew.” 

They approach cautiously and kneel down next to you and Ralak. Neteyam smiles, golden eyes quivering as he takes in his features. 

“It’s uncle teytey.” Neteyam takes his nephew's tiny hand, his thumb grazing over his five fingers. Then Neteyam looks at you, his expression going from bright to glum. “I’m sorry I didn’t check on you.”

You shake your head and smile, barely keeping your eyes open. “Don’t be.” 

“Y/n. I—” To your surprise, Lo’ak is speechless. “He is beautiful.” 

“Thank you, uncle Lo’ Lo’.” You smile with another sniffle, using that god-damned nickname he wouldn’t let up on.

Lo'ak returns the smile, hearing it fall from your quivering lips makes his heart full. You finally lean back against Ralak's chest, allowing your eyes to close, heavy and swollen from all your shed tears of joy and pain.

You feel the healer’s hands leave your stomach and make their way to your chest where she ensures the babe has latched properly. “Perfect latch. You are a natural, y/n.”

You smile wobbly at her words, feeling extra proud of yourself. 

“I will leave the medicines here, ensure she takes them on time.” She’s speaking to Ralak, who is also in a daze, gazing down at his son. “I will come and check on her tonight. Until then, she needs to rest. No heavy lifting.”

Ralak finally averts his attention to the healer, a smile on his lips as he nods. He’d never let you lift a finger, anyways.   

“Ralak, your wound is open.” Neytiri speaks with concern in her voice. 

The healer looks down to see his mangled laceration. “Eywa…Now, this will hurt.” Her eyes go wide and she immediately gets her things to sew him back up. Neteyam and Lo’ak look at the bleeding gash with wide eyes. Jake grimaces. 

“D-Does that hurt?” Tuk asks shyly, peeking out from behind Neytiri to see. 

Ralak shakes his head with a smile, too overjoyed with the safe delivery of his first born son to even notice anymore.

“No pain. Only happiness.” Ralak says softly, accent heavy on his tongue as he looks back down at his now stirring babe. 

[mssorceressupreme]

Encounters

Pairing: Minho x Reader

Note: hii guys so after reading A LOT of amazing fics, I decided to finally start writing my own again (I used to write and publish books on wattpad but stopped for a while) 😭 also I kept sending requests and felt kinda annoying for constantly spamming authors lmaoo but I love all their work sm ❤️ so here’s my first Minho fic heheh hope you enjoy :))

Summary: to escape from the pressures of being a greenie, you run and hide in the deadheads, accidentally stumbling upon the runners hut, where you encounter someone alluring.

Warnings: none really, peer pressure?, y/n has slight anxiety

——

The revelation that I was the only girl in the glade made me want to pull all my hair out and vanish off the face of this earth. It had already been a few hours since I arrived but my mind still struggled to grasp the fact that I was the only girl here, in a glade full of boys, or men. So far, Newt and Alby have been accomodating which I was immensely grateful for, they have already set the bar so high that I’m now worried about having to meet the other gladers.

Apparently, it was tradition to throw a bonfire evening for the “greenie” each month, and fortunately for me, I was the greenie this month.

The moment I arrived, the boys seemed determined to throw me into some strange tradition involving a concoction Gally made “Come on greenie, it’s tradition!” One of the boys, Jack, jeered, holding out a cup filled with the suspicious drink.

Newt, who was seated beside me, shook his head, “I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.” He chuckled.

“I’ll pass Jack, thanks.” I brought my knees to my chest.

“Now that’s no fun! Just a sip!” George, another glader, insisted, pushing the drink closer to my face.

The tiniest whiff of whatever that beverage comprised of made me gag. “Oh- eugh! Please I don’t want that!” I shove his hand away.

“It’s tradition! Come on don’t break the streak! Even I downed three cups!” Tyler remarked.

I glanced around, the pressure was getting heavier and their voices were starting to echo in my head. “You might have to outrun them greenie!” Frypan teased.

Panic surged through me, and I bolted. I could hear their laugher and shouts behind me, urging me to stop and that Fry was only joking, but I didn’t dare look back. My heart raced as I ran blindly through the glade, towards the deadheads, searching for a place to hide.

I spotted a hut up ahead and, without thinking, dashed inside, slamming the door shut behind me. I leaned against it, panting and gasping for breath, my heart thudding in my chest.

Were they chasing after me? Should I stay here until the next morning? Where am I going to sleep? Hundreds of thoughts raced my mind at once and I needed to get away from everyone.

A throat cleared behind me, and I jumped, spinning around to see a tall, imposing figure watching me with amused curiosity. Alright, clearly I didn’t get away from everyone.

“Oh, uh, sorry! I didn’t see you there!” I stammered, feeling my face heat up.

Minho stood there, arms crossed over his chest, an eyebrow raised. “You know only runners are allowed in here,” he said, his voice firm yet not unkind.

“I’m sorry! I’ll leave right away! I didn’t mean to intrude—” I began to gush, stepping toward the door. But before I could reach the handle, Minho moved, his long stride bringing him directly in front of me.

He towered over me, one hand pressing against the door, keeping it shut.

I looked up at him, my confusion and nerves likely written all over my face. Why wasn’t he letting me leave? What did he want?

Minho’s silence was heavy, his dark eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a strange, electric tension crackling between us. Those eyes were not predatory unlike some of the other gladers.

My pulse quickened for reasons that had nothing to do with fear. The sound of the boys searching for me grew louder, their footsteps echoing just outside.

“She couldn’t have gone far!” one of them shouted.

Minho’s gaze never wavered from mine as he spoke, “If you’d like, I can accompany you for the rest of the evening.” It was as though he knew I was trying to hide from them and seek refuge.

“You’re not going to make me drink Gally’s drink, are you?” I blurted out, my voice shaky.

Minho chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Guess we’ll see,” he said, his tone teasing.

He extended his hand to me, his expression softening just a touch. I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand in his. His grip was firm, and reassuring. The simple contact sent a thrill through me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too.

For a moment, we stood there, our hands clasped, the air between us charged with an unspoken connection. His presence was both intimidating and oddly comforting, a contradiction that made my head spin. I couldn’t help but glance at his lips, then back to his warm brown eyes.

Minho finally broke the silence, “Let’s get out of here before they come back,” he said, his voice gentle.

He led me out of the hut, and as we walked together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the start of something significant. The glade suddenly seemed less daunting with him by my side, and I found myself hoping that maybe, just maybe, this new world held more than just danger and fear.

[smolwritingchick]

The Bangtan Gal Chapter 79- Meeting Shawn Mendes

Chapter Summary: BTS film for Running Man again. Jennie goes back to America for interviews with Buzzfeed and iHeartRadio. She supports and joins Angelina for the BBMAs and finally meets her celeb crush, Shawn Mendes.

Words: 14,000+

Author's Note: New Jennie Ship! Jen and Shawn Mendes (Shawnnie) Pretty cute. In case you need reminding, this is still a Jungkook x Jennie (OC) story lol. 

You know how artists have some people they always collab with? These two are going to collab often. And when she releases her solo work, he'll have a feature. I see people always anticipating them working together and ranking their favorite songs. 

-----

After coming back from Prom Weekend, Jen goes to catch up with Amber at her place. Jen was happy to be a part of her next vlog for her YouTube channel and went with her to work out at the gym. 

The female member of Bangtan took off her jacket to reveal her sports bra and defining muscles on her upper body.

“Wow, look at my mom. Those abs are getting defined!” Amber did a close up of her stomach, making Jen laugh. Setting the camera down to film them stretch, she asked, “You excited about the Billboard Awards?”

“Oh yeah! I am so stoked! Despite some of the negative feedback that I’ve been hit with, I just hope that I can put in a good word for BTS as I try to promote us as a group and support Angelina. I love to network so I'm sure I can do my best to talk about K-Pop,"

“Right, I saw that. Ugh, keep ignoring it like you usually do. It's so rude of these so-called supporters of BTS to question why you’re going and not the rest of the group. It’s like they hate the things you do that have nothing to do with the group. You're going to support your friend. Angelina is always asking for you to join her. It's so nice of Big Hit to allow you to,"

“Yeah, I'm so grateful. I won't take it for granted. It'd be dope if BTS could attend the Billboard Awards together. A Korean group at that show? That'd be huge! I hope we can accomplish that one day...to be able to go home and be standing with my boys as we perform and do our thing...what a dream. I hope we can do more in America. I miss performing at home,"

“Speak it into existence! I can just see you now, looking all cute and dolled up for Billboard. BTS at the show would be a huge deal. Never say never. What are you wearing?”

“Angelina and I are going to color coordinate. I’ll be wearing white while she will be wearing black. She doesn’t like going alone to award shows since she’ll get bored easily. But if a friend, like me, was with her, she’d have a better time.”

"Aw, cute. Do you think you’re going to meet you know who?” Amber teased as Jen's mind went to the man she knew she was talking about.

A nervous chuckle escaped her. “Ah...I hope I meet Shawn.” 

Jennie just hoped she does not freeze when she was face to face with that man. Someone she admires and wants to work with. If she was freaking out about him noticing her online, she doesn’t know what she is going to do when she sees him on the pink carpet. She must keep her composure.

After stretching, Amber began to play on her phone until Jen took it away.

“Woman, get off your phone. Time to work.” she placed it down and walked over to the punching bag after wrapping her hands in tape.

“Can’t I just look at my messages?” Amber whined

“Nope. Let’s work.”

She sighed. “Fine Mom.”

A laugh escaped Jen as she waited for Amber to hold the punching bag for her.

“I love using this. It makes me release so much stress.” Jen pounded her fist against her palm a few times and began to strike the bag. 

“Think of this thing as something that stole your smarties,” Amber suggested.

Out of nowhere, Jen kicked the punching bag hard and Amber dramatically fell to the floor. Gasping and placing her hands against her mouth, Jen rushed down to help her.

"Crap! Are you okay!?”

But then she heard her laugh and watched her get up with ease. “The look on your face was priceless. I’m fine.” 

“I hate when you do that.” she playfully punched her shoulder. After her session of kicks and punches, Jen held the bag for her while Amber began punching it. “How’s Jack Jack?"

"Adorable and goofy as ever. We need to set up a playdate with Tony.”

“Tony would love Jack Jack. He is so friendly with everyone. I think he’s starting to get closer to V.”

“Uh oh. V is taking over now. You know how he gets when it comes to animals and babies. How is his drama going?”

“He is so happy and making a lot of friends. A social butterfly. To see him work so hard and do well in his scenes makes me a proud sister. I’ve been helping him a lot on his script and he seems to be feeling more comfortable with himself.”

"As he should! Wow, and can you believe that next year you are going to graduate high school?” 

That caused Jen to exhale. She was right. She is graduating next year.

“Are you planning on taking the college exam?” Amber’s question interrupted her thoughts as they went to use the dumbbells on the floor.

“I really want to. I want to go to college. But I don’t want to go to college online, I want to physically be there. But as a K-Pop idol and all, I am not going to be able to juggle that and school...I'm kinda frustrated.”

“What are you going to do? You think you want to take a hiatus from the group to go to school?”

“I don’t know.” Jen groaned and fell back on the floor. "I’ve been thinking of going into business. I’ve been starting to get very interested in that. I don’t want to just depend on music. I want to do more things. But if I take a hiatus from the group, I know a lot of backlash is going to happen with some of these fans. But if I don’t do this, I feel like I will regret it. I'm torn,"

"Hey, don’t even worry about those fans. You need to do what is best for you. If you want to continue your education, do it. You will find a way to make this work. You still have time,"

“Yeah...you’re right. I still have time to think about it. I think I should talk to my parents. And then Bang PD. But enough about that, let’s talk about Civil War! My baby Captain America! Ahhh, I cannot wait for that movie!”

------

The cast of Running Man arrived at their next destination for their 7 vs 300 episode. The cast pondered why there were so many boxes around and was told about their fourth mission.

‘We have special guests for this mission’

Soon after, a van pulled up, and out came BTS themselves which was a huge surprise for the cast.

“Welcome, BTS! Nice to see you! It’s so unexpected!” the cast happily greeted.

“I didn’t know that BTS would be here,” Jae-suk said.

“OH~!” Gary shouted when he saw Jennie and Jungkook. He pointed at them and that got Song Jihyo’s attention.

“YOU!” Song Jihyo shouted. She glanced at Gary and began freaking out with him, amusing everyone. “We have some unfinished business with these two!”

Jennie and Jungkook glanced at each other and laughed as they recapped how the Monday Couple could not stop the Golden Duo. But they were determined to change that today. After the members performed some of the choreography for Fire, the cast applauded them.

“I loved when Rap Monster acted like this in the end.” Jaesuk made the same facial expression and moved his hands the way Rapmon did. After seeing Rapmon doing it again, he responded, “That’s it. It looks nice. I should learn the moves.”

Soon after that, one by one the members of BTS showed off their different gestures for fire. V was up first which hyped up the cast members.

“Do I do it like this?” Gary tried to do the same moves.

“Jongkook, show us the old version of that dance.” Jaesuk requested.

“Why?” Jongkook asked.

“You know the old version.”

“Why should I?”

“Come on!” he replied as the rest of the cast tried to get him to dance.

Going along with it, Haha and Gary joined him in performing their own little routine which made everyone laugh.

“Oh my goodness.” Jennie giggled, covering her mouth.

“1! 2! 3!” the three men shouted and did their ending pose.

“So, what should we do with BTS?” Jaesuk asked

‘The fourth mission is to move 300 boxes with BTS. There are 300 boxes of ramen. You should use the handcart that has your team’s initials on it to move as many boxes as possible to your team’s truck. Those who move more boxes will win. If you win, we will donate the boxes you carried in your name. So please do your best.’

Both teams gathered around, preparing while one member from each team had their cart prepared.

“Okay,” Jen spoke up, making the members look at her. “Strategy. Put as many boxes on the cart. Speed is everything. Jimin,”

“Yes, Ennie?” he asked.

“Try to hop on someone’s back to try to distract them. I’d say go big. Perhaps Kwangsoo or Jongkook. Maybe even Haha. You have the clinging grip of a koala bear. It’ll be difficult to yank you off due to your strong grip.”

“Right,” he nodded.

“Fellas, are we ready?!” she announced loudly.

“Yes, ma’am!” they shouted.

“Are you ready to get down!?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Are you ready to win!?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“One, two, three, BANGTAN!” they all shout, throwing their hands up in the air.

Jennie leaned forward, behind the line, anticipating to run. If all goes to plan, they’ll get the boxes in no time.

‘Will the members with a lot of experience win? Or will young BTS win?’

Once the whistle blew, everyone began dashing forward to one of the five spots of boxes.

“Suga where the heck did this speed come from!?” Jennie exclaimed as she watched him dash over to the boxes. “Never mind, run! Keep running!”

They all scattered around while Suga picked up some boxes before the handcart arrived. He was the first to place a ramen box on the truck. Jennie grabbed two boxes and began dashing towards the truck, evading the chaos around her. Jimin, Rapmon and J-hope were placing as many boxes on the cart as possible.

While J-Hope ran the cart over to their truck, he panted, “This is heavier than I thought!”

Kwangsoo popped out of nowhere. “Ahhhh! Stop it!” J-Hope yelled.

Suga, V and Jimin tried to get him away and Jimin remembered what Jennie had said and decided to hug Kwangsoo from behind along with V, pushing him away from everyone.

“No!” Kwangsoo exclaimed.

J-Hope's screams and yells kept making Jennie laugh as she ran over to their cart and unloaded the boxes on the truck with him. But then Sukjin began to try to take their cart away. Jin stopped him and started moving him away but Sukjin still had a grip on the cart and it began to move away from the truck.

“Seokjin, no!” J-Hope whined.

“Jin! The cart!” Jen shouted. “The cart!”

She ran back to him and managed to help him push Sukjin away. He ran away while she and the oldest member pushed the cart back to J-Hope so they could continue loading the boxes on the truck. Later, she met up with Jungkook to help attack Running Man’s cart, taking boxes out of it.

“Hey!” Haha tried to stop them with Jaesuk.

He managed to grab onto Jungkook but Jen succeeded in stopping Jaesuk from moving the cart even further. That is until Gary came by to hold a strong grip on Jennie.

“Keep getting the boxes! We have the Golden Duo!” Gary shouted to his teammates while Song Jihyo held onto Jungkook as they laughed.

Suddenly, Jennie tickled Gary which made him loosen his grip and she escaped his hold. She ran straight after Song Jihyo to pull her off of Jungkook. Jaesuk accidentally pushed the cart into BTS’ truck, so the members began to grab all the boxes. Jaesuk did the same thing, unaware that it wasn’t Running Man’s truck.

“Thank you, Jaesuk!” Suga spoke.

“What? It’s not our truck?” Jaesuk asked, bewildered.

‘Thanks to Jaesuk, BTS is winning by 14 points.’

“Let’s ambush them,” Jen suggested to Suga as Jongkook and Gary were carrying a large load of boxes to put on their truck.

They ran straight up to them to smack the boxes out of their hands.

“Jongkook!” Kwangsoo yelled while Jimin locked his arms and legs around him.

“Good job, Chim! Keep it up! I’ll bake you cupcakes, tonight!” Jen praised, running past them to grab more boxes.

“Just keep holding him.” Jongkook walked past them while Jimin jumped on top of Kwangsoo, making it harder for him to move.

As the game went on, everyone was out of breath from running as they continued to race all over the place for the boxes. Following Jongkook throwing another box of ramen into his truck, he turned his attention to BTS.

“I can’t stand it anymore. That’s it.” Jongkook marched right over to Suga and Jungkook.

“Oh hell no! Goodbye!” Jennie scurried away from him when she witnessed him grabbing onto her bandmates. 

She was just inches away from getting grabbed by him and she was not having it.

“Got you!” Song Jihyo grabbed her before she could get far.

“No! No! Come on! I’ll pay you in cookies!” 

Gary joined Song Jihyo, holding Jen hostage while Jongkook held down Suga and Jungkook. Jungkook's shirt began to rise as they all started laughing. It looked like this was the end of the road for these members.

“Jongkook, help me!” Kwangsoo walked over to him with Jimin still on his back.

Jongkook grabbed the back of Jimin’s shirt and pulled him off effortlessly, taking down three boys on his own. During this, Jen was now on the floor, lying on her stomach with Song Jihyo lying on top of her while Gary monitored her to make sure she didn’t escape.

“This is not faaaaaaaair~!” Jennie yelled, defeated.

“What’s happening here?” Jin kneeled before Jungkook, puzzled.

“I want to get out.” Jungkook laughed.

But then Jin got grabbed by Jongkook too and he began to panic, exclaiming, “Please, let me go! Please, let me go!”

Jin tried to pull away but to no avail as only three members of BTS were free and had the final verdict.

“Somebody get the Monday couple off of meeeeeee~!” Jennie yelled. “For the love of smarties! Somebody! Anybody! Hello!? Help!”

At the end of the game, Gary had managed to steal a box from Jin placed it on the truck, and congratulated each other on doing a great job.

‘The 7 vs 300 Boxes game is over’

Both teams stood next to each other, waiting for the results.

‘Let me announce the result. It’s 157 boxes to 143 boxes. BTS won.’ It was announced as bright cheers came from them. 

They jumped up and down to celebrate while high fiving each other. Now

the members of Running Man would have to pay for another 300 boxes of ramen to donate. When the announcer told them it was 5,000 dollars for 250 boxes, the cast did a double take which made Jennie look bewildered with the rest of BTS.

“Oh boy,” Jennie murmured.

“Really?” the cast stared in disbelief.

“Did you just say 5,000 dollars?” Sukjin asked

Someone will pay for 200 boxes, 50, 30 and 15. The members were chosen to give them a card at random. So for a random donation segment, the members handed each Running Man cast member a card to figure out what they would pay. Haha opened his card and will only be paying 50 boxes. Gary had a dance card and was spared so he danced around, celebrating with Rapmon who was the one who gave him the card. Song Jihyo’s fate got her 15 boxes. Jongkook got zero boxes and he celebrated with Jungkook and hugged him.

For the final three, it was between 200, 30, and 5 boxes. They were offered to dance around and switched cards three times. Unfortunately for Kwangsoo, who had the 200 card first and switched it, got the card again when switching for the third time. Kwangsoo got water thrown at him and danced for the 5,000 dollars he’ll have to spend on the 200 boxes while everyone laughed.

“Congrats Kwangsoo! You’re the unluckiest person.” Jaesuk said as he stood there, accepting his fate.

“Thank you for your hard work. Thank you all.” the members clapped and bowed at the cast.

“I hope to see you and Jungkook back on the show for another couple’s episode.” Song Jihyo smiled.

“Absolutely. We’re ready. Just let us know and we will attend.” Jen confirmed.

------

Back at the dorm, Jen decided to make a strawberry shortcake because she was bored. She had already finished packing and looked over her schedule for when she touched down in the States.

“Can I have one?”

A bright voice interrupted her thoughts as she looked up to see Hobi smiling kindly. She noticed he was referring to the fresh strawberries she had just cleaned.

“Yeah, knock yourself out.” she grabbed one and fed him. His smile got brighter as he savored the sweet fruit. “Is it good?”

“Very delicious. What are you making?”

“Ah, I would call this bored baking. I'm working on a strawberry shortcake,” 

He placed a soothing hand on her back and rubbed it. “You a little nervous about the show?”

“I think I’m more nervous about making sure I put in a good word for BTS. You know I love to network,"

“Munchkin, you’ll do just fine. And make sure you enjoy yourself there. Don't overwork yourself to network. Still, have fun with Angelina. Come on, I'll help you."

“Thanks. You can start by cutting the strawberries and then adding sugar.” she pointed to the materials while handling baking biscuits.

What she planned on doing was making it look like biscuits with layers of strawberries and frosting. As they baked together, she began to notice that whenever she glanced over at Hobi, he’d look like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“...are you eating more strawberries?”

“No?” he replied with a mouthful in his mouth.

“J-Hope!” she scolded and tried to hit him but he jumped away. After pulling themselves together, she said, “All right, let’s put on some music while we do this. You can just grab my phone and press shuffle.”

“What’s the password?”

“Jungkook’s birthday.”

“Awwwww. I see that you two have each other as your lock screens and now your passwords are each other's birthdays. Did you know that Jungkook’s notification tone for you is a bell?”

“Oh yeah, from the anime? It’s so cute. Remember when one of y'all almost leaked our relationship on V-Live? Thankfully Kookie’s smart thinking saved us all,” she playfully scolded.

------

It happened a few days ago with Jungkook, Yoongi, and Hobi eating lunch together. During the live, Jen had messaged Jungkook in response to his question on whether she could pick up some banana milk while she was out. His phone sounded like a loud bell once she texted him and he looked down, smiling brightly.

“Goodness, you’re whipped.” Yoongi blurted out.

“He is maturing a lot because of Jennie,” Hobi added with a chuckle.

But they had almost forgotten that they were still on the air as Jungkook blushed, “Jennie is my best friend and has helped me a lot with this comeback. She’s the best and I couldn’t think of any other best friend.”

------

“My gosh, I’m just thankful it wasn’t anything worse,” Jen mentioned.

“Sorry, sorry. We’ll be more careful,” he replied and pressed shuffle as My Own Worst Enemy by Lit came on.

“Ooh! I was just working on this song on my guitar!” she started throwing her head around, dancing around. 

Hobi laughed and joined her, dancing around the kitchen.

“My car is in the front yard and I’m sleeping with my clothes on~!” she sang. “Came in through the window last night and you’re gone! Gone~!”

“How many rock songs do you have on your phone?” he asked.

“A lot! So many! I have a lot to study from. It’s so fascinating how complex you can make the chords. Soon I want to try playing some of the hardest chords when I increase my skill. But let’s get back to work. I like to make my biscuits from scratch. So, as you can see the dough is fine. Now we just need to cut them into small circles.”

She rolled the dough out and handed him one of the circular cutters as they both made several circles. Then, they sprayed two pans and placed the dough on them. Hobi opened the preheated oven and put it in so it could bake.

“Awesome, thanks for helping!” she high fived him. “We’ll continue after I wash my hair real quick. Just please keep an eye on that. It should be done before I finish.”

“No problem, munchkin.”

She went to wash her hair and then went to blow dry it in her room but as soon as she turned the dryer on, a big mess of flour popped out, causing her to scream.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?” she yelled, making Hobi yelp. “WHO PUT FLOUR IN MY DRYER?!”

After ten minutes passed, Hobi saw Namjoon walking into the kitchen to grab water. But from the look on his face, the leader had a mischievous smirk on his face.

“No way, man. It was you? She is going to pulverize you.” Hobi chuckled.

“Not if she doesn’t find out~.” Namjoon smiled innocently.

“Well I just did and I hope you watch your damn back because I am going to make sure what you get is ten times worse,” Jen responded, causing him to turn around in fear. 

“Nini, hey, how are you?” he laughed nervously as he saw that she had managed to clean up her face and hair so that there was no more flour.

“Don’t talk to me. I’ll deal with you when you least expect it. Let’s continue finishing this shortcake.” she resumed with Hobi after creating 14 shortcakes for everyone.

“Thanks for the treat.” Hobi kissed her temple.

“Guys! I baked!” she announced. As soon as she said the word baked, they ran to the kitchen, shoving each other away to try to be the first to get a taste. “Whoa, relax. I made plenty so you all can have one.”

Later that evening, Hobi and Jen hung out in her room for another edition of putting makeup on Smartie. Setting up the camera and finishing up their strawberry shortcake, Jen called the program, ‘Lets Put MakeUp On Smartie Featuring J-Hope~’

“Hey, hey! What is up ARMY!? Jennie is back with another episode of Let’s Put Makeup On Smartie! And with us today is my hope, your hope, J-Hope!”

“Hi!” Hobi beamed and danced in his seat in excitement.

“I’m sure you’ve seen the previous videos of the guys doing my makeup. What do you have planned for me, today?”

“I’ve been thinking of what you’d look like as a vampire. So to prepare, I bought fangs, blood, and some other materials.”

Jen gulped loudly which caused Hobi to cackle and clap his hands. "Oh God...help me.“ she murmured.

"It’s going to be fine. Trust me. I made sure to learn what to do. I won’t mess up your face. I got this handled, Jennie.”

“Mm-hm,” she replied. “But before we start, I have a big announcement to make.”

“Oh yes! Can’t wait for this!”

“So, as you know, for a while now the idea of Jungkook and I creating a Twitch Channel has been up in the air. Well, I want to confirm that our Twitch Channel is coming and it is called The Golden Duo! You can sign up for free and make sure you’re subscribed to us. And good news, our first stream will be during BTS Festa this year!”

“Wooooo!” Hobi cheered with Jennie. “Make sure you let us play too!”

“We will! The first game we will be playing is The Impossible Game. We have so many games we have listed to play. A bunch of online games and console games. And more to come. This channel’s streaming times will vary due to our schedules but best believe we will stream at least once a month. No doubt about that. Jungkook and I are very excited about this. You are going to see just how intense our friendship can be when gaming. And for a warning, there will be rage quitting and you’ll see a side of us you haven’t before.”

Fans were extremely excited about the news, commenting:

‘JENKOOK SHIPPERS ARE GETTING FED!’

‘YES!’

‘FINALLY!’

‘OMG YASSS, THANK YOU!’

‘Please play Overwatch!’

‘Can you play The Sims?’

“We’ll play those games. Don’t worry. Now any donations we get for the stream, we are donating to charity. We are not keeping the money. We plan to split the money equally and give it to the charity of our choice. I will be donating to domestic violence survivors. I am very passionate about that subject. Jungkook is still figuring out where he wants to donate. Okay, now without further ado, let’s do this!”

Letting him get right to it, he put her primer on her face and then the foundation.

“Army, Jennie baked today. I helped her out. We made strawberry shortcake.” he said and went to work on her eyes by using black and purple.

“I thought it turned out pretty well, how about you?”

“I want more. But you’re leaving soon. So, next time when you get back to Seoul.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m glad you liked it. Oh, Army, you guys are wild for your choice of what you want me to do for our upcoming Festa.” she brought up and paused as he focused on placing black lipstick on her. 

He put the two fangs on her teeth and went to focus on putting blood around her mouth to go with the look.

“If some of you aren’t aware, Big Hit put up a poll a few weeks ago for you guys to choose.” Jen continued. “I'm doing something with Jimin and Jungkook too but also will be dancing solo. So for my solo, you had to choose between a cute concept, a sexy concept, or a badass one. And since somehow, someway you guys like me being sexy, you chose the sexy concept and now I am going to be performing Sunmi’s Full Moon. Oh my gosh. Wow. I’m not ready. I can’t believe this. I was striving for the badass concept. But it’ll be fun.”

“We are currently making preparations for it now,” Hobi added. “We are eager to show you in June. And...done!”

Jen checked her face in the mirror. “Oh...oh! Whoa! I look demonic!" she chuckled and checked out her eyes. “I like it. I like how slightly messy it looks. This is good, J-Hope!”

“I knew you would like it! Aren’t you glad I didn’t mess up with face?”

“Very. All right, well thanks for watching us, today. Stay tuned for the next member of Bangtan to do my makeup. Who do you think is next? Find out soon!”

“Bye Army!” Hobi waved.

After they turned the live off, Jen took selfies with him, tweeting, ‘I wonder if I should be a vampire for Halloween. Thanks for the makeup! I look great! #Jen’

------

The next morning, Jen pondered about how the guys would look great for their airport style but she’d just wear something simple and comfortable. She was already tired as it is and looking at her hoodie and jeans with a messy bun, she did not feel like wearing some top-notch outfit for an airport. And knowing the fans loved airport pictures, she decided to tweet about it to not get their hopes up.

‘I know how much you guys like airport pics. But my outfit isn’t going to be all that like usual. Sorry to disappoint you guys...again! Haha. #Jen’

Looking at some of the replies made her smile:

‘You could wear a trash bag and we’d still think you’re beautiful’

‘Doesn’t matter! Still taking photos of your cute self! Stay comfortable!’

‘It’s OK queen. We still gonna see you when you arrive home.’

When she arrived back in America, a big yawn escaped her and her stomach leaped with joy to find that she was finally home. Carrying her bag along with her manager Diana and some security guards walking with her, Jen walked off the plane. But little did she know, a large turnout of fans, fansites, and paparazzi were waiting for her. And when they saw her walk out, cameras began to flash and the pandemonium rose, causing Jen to look up in astonishment.

“Oh my God, she’s coming! She’s coming! I hear screaming!” A fan squealed while recording and began screaming with everyone else once she saw her.

“No fucking way.” a curse escaped Jennie, making her fans laugh as she took off her sunglasses. “Who sent y’all? Y’all not here for me. I know y’all not here for me.” she said in disbelief while the cheers and laughter got louder.

“Dispatch is here. They’re going to want you to stand and pose.” she was advised and followed suit as loud clicks of cameras and flashing lights appeared in her view.

The screams were high pitched as she tried to get a good look at all the fans here to see her. 

“Hi, Jennie! Hiiiii~!”

“I love you!”

“Jen! Jennie! My friend loves you so much!”

“YASSSS GIRL! WORK! MISS BANGTAN!” a fan screamed, making her chuckle.

After the photos, she began to walk with Diana and security while others were rushing away to get a better view of her. Security did a good job keeping fans away from being too close to her.

“Jennie, I’m proud of you.” she heard a fan say while recording her.

She turned to make eye contact with her for a few seconds and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Jennie, welcome back!” someone else spoke

“Thanks, good to be back home!“

“How was the flight?”

“Not too bad, actually.”

Jen turned to see a guy smiling shyly and waving right next to her outside the airport.

“Hey! Thanks for coming to see me. How long did you wait?“ she asked.

"Hours. Worth it to see you in person. Here, this is for you. My cousin makes earrings and wanted you to have this.” he gave her a small gift bag

“Oh wow, thank you! I can’t wait to wear it.” she beamed.

On Twitter ARMY was freaking out and trended #WelcomeHomeJennie worldwide:

'Our beautiful Miss Bangtan has arrived safely in America! #WelcomeHomeJennie’

'Ah she is so cute! Looking like an adorable hamster in that hoodie'

'My baby is back in the US!’

'Our girl has arrived!’

'Jen is back! I repeat! Jen is back! Back in America!’

‘SHE LOOKED AT ME! OMG SHE SMILED AND LOOKED AT ME!’

'Of course, she’s decked out in Nike, what a cutie!’

As soon as she went to her hotel room, she ate and rested before it was time to go straight to interviews. This was going to be a busy day, starting with radio to help talk about BTS’ new album and hoping that K-Pop can be more recognized in America just like PSY did years ago. Then it was time for her interview with iHeartRadio.

Smiling for the camera, iHeartRadio took a photo of her and tweeted, ‘K-Pop’s own Miss Bangtan of BTS is here with us!’

Getting comfortable with the interviewer, they began filming as she listened to the interviewer greet the fans and give background on K-Pop and BTS.

“Here on iHeartRadio, we have the one and only Miss Bangtan, Jennie of BTS! How are you doing?”

“The adrenaline is pumping!” she replied with a big smile. “I’m so happy to be home for a little bit.”

"I'm glad! We’re going to have some fun today, with various questions. We even asked ARMY to submit some questions for you. Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

‘First time you knew you loved playing the guitar?’

“After listening to rock music. I’d say that Linkin Park's One Step Closer was one of the many songs that influenced me to play the guitar more. When I practiced that song, I fell in love with it and I told myself that this was what I wanted to do. They are so amazing at what they do with their music. And I’m not going to lie, I really enjoy the heavy stuff with the guitar, too. How intense it is. It just makes me emotional because you can just hear how passionate the music is. I am a proud black girl who loves rock."

'Artist you want to collab with?’

"I have so many! Chase Atlantic has been on my radar. I would love to collab with a rock band, to be honest. Even if it’s just playing the guitar. I’d love to perform some rock songs. It's not every day you see a black female rock out. But we’re out here in this world. I honestly do not care which rock band it is, I will be grateful for whatever opportunity comes. Fall Out Boy, Paramore, Red Hot Chili Peppers, so many amazing bands! Right now I am studying different rock songs and learning them on my guitar. I want to learn different styles and techniques. It’s pretty fun.”

'What song are you studying right now?’

“Wake Up by Rage Against The Machine. It’s heavy and I enjoy the instrumental. I can’t explain it but ugh I love it. A funny moment happened a few days ago, so I was playing my music really loud and the guys got so concerned by the intense vocals. The guitar solo is still messing me up a bit, so I’m still practicing. Maybe one day I should release my covers for the songs I’m studying.”

'You think you could ever do acting?’

“My sister is the actress. But if an opportunity comes up and I need to prepare for an audition, she’s my go-to person. I thought about it on occasion but it isn't quite on my radar, right now. But it would be so fun to do one day. I'd love to try to be in some action movie or something. It’s nice to branch out and try new things.”

'What are some nicknames people called you?’

"Oh gosh, well Rapmon calls me Nini. I also get called Munchkin, Smartie, and Ennie.” 

'Okay, we gotta know, are you still keen on wanting to work with Nike?’

"YES! HELL YES! I am still patiently waiting! I know they’re watching me. I am here, Nike! Come on, please! I will bring you so many sales. I am so passionate about your product! Hit me up!”

'Any tattoos in the future?’

"Yes, I have something in mind. You’ll see.”

'What is your ideal date?’

A bright smile came across her lips as the interviewer raved over how big her smile had gotten. Truth was, she was thinking about Jungkook.

“Ah...well, I love mini-dates. Like the simple things are more than enough. Even if it’s just walking and looking at the sunset or stars while I'm in my significant other's arms. Eating smarties and snacks with them.” she got a little giddy and her face began to warm up as she thought about her boyfriend. “I guess I’m a little bit of a hopeless romantic.”

'What about your solo work?’

“BTS’ work.” she corrected, smoothly moving the conversation her way. “Everything is going great with our work. Our album is doing so well, please stream and buy our album. It’s called The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Young Forever. The album with the colorful hot air balloon. You can’t miss it. I also helped create track four. Autumn Leaves. Give it a listen. We’re proud of it.”

“Well, that is all the time we have for today. We are going to see you at the Billboard Awards, right?”

“Yes, you are! I’ll be supporting my girl, Angelina. I am so stoked to be a part of it again. Thanks for having me!”

With Buzzfeed, Jen was filmed to be a part of their Thirst Tweets segment. Sitting down comfortably on the floor, she got handed the LOL bucket and prepared for her cue to start speaking.

“Hey! It’s your girl Jennie from BTS and today I shall be reading some thirst tweets!” she announced. “Disclaimer, I am fully aware of how thirsty you fans are. Remember that I do have a Tumblr and I see everything. I can tell that this is going to be very interesting so let’s get to it.”

Grabbing the LOL bucket, she dug in and pulled out a slip of paper. Reading it in her head, she started to chuckle.

“Whoa. Okay. This reads...”

'I hope Jen gets eaten out every night since she deserves it.’

She looked directly at the camera with a soft laugh. “I've been told I taste pretty nice," she teased before bursting out in laughter. "Was that appropriate for this interview? ARMY is going to freak when they watch this,"

'Imagine getting a lap dance from Jennie. I'd bust so quick!’

“Hm...you know I never gave someone a lap dance before. I should start practicing. Who wants to be my first?” 

'I just can’t stop thinking about Jennie’s ass. I want to smack it and eat-’

She couldn’t finish as she started laughing again, covering her mouth.

’...I want to smack it and eat her booty like groceries.’

“Y’know I get this a lot actually,” she admitted. “It’s okay to stare, though. Look but don’t touch. It's pretty funny to see all the memes about my ass. And the reaction photos you guys put up when you react to photos of me are top tier. It's funny as hell,"

'Jen could blow my back out with a strap on if she wanted to.’

“Ah...” she let out a sigh. “Thank you for the offer. I don’t know my own strength so I don’t think you’d want me blowing your back out.”

'I watched a compilation of Jen’s sexiest moments. I want to fuck her so bad’

“You want to have sex with me, too? Get in line,” she replied. "It's so interesting to read how desired I am from people. I've seen some shit. It is crazy,"

'BTS’ Jennie is a fine piece of ass. I want to bite her booty and give her a butt massage’

“A butt massage? Interesting...”

'Jennie sitting on my face is a nice concept. I would also love to eat smarties all over her naked body.’

She chuckled and rubbed the back of her neck. “You want me to sit on your face? It takes a special person for that," she giggled. "Ah, but I wouldn’t want you to get suffocated. And you want to eat smarties on me? I don’t think so. Let’s eat smarties from the wrapper, not on my body.”

'A concept: sucking Jen’s toes’

That made her widen her eyes, "Why is everyone talking about my feet these days? Did I miss something? Was it something I wore?” she asked, genuinely confused

'I’d pay so much money to drink Jen’s bath water’

She looked up at the camera and the caption, ’#Jennie.exe has stopped working’ appeared on the screen, causing the staff to laugh in the background.

“That’s...not sanitary.”

After finishing the tweets, she said, "Well, that’s all the thirst tweets for now. That was eventful. I wouldn’t mind doing this again. I’m Jennie from BTS and I will see on you the flip side. Stream BTS and other K-Pop groups! Our album. Right here.” she presented their latest album in front of the camera. “Track four. I helped produce it. All the songs are good. It’s lit.” she cheered as they signed off.

Meanwhile, a Shawn Mendes fan tweeted him about Jennie later on that day, ‘Shawn! Did you know that the girl with the guitar is going to the Billboard Awards!? She really wants to meet you!’

Replying to the fan, Shawn tweeted, ‘Yes, I do! I’m happy that she is going to be there. I hope I can see her.’

For the last segment of Buzzfeed, some lucky fans of Jennie were brought into the studio and asked to stand in a room alone, one by one.

The question was simple. Why do you admire Jennie?

And while the fans spoke highly of her, Jen was watching in the background, planning to surprise them.

“My big cousin got me into K-Pop a few years ago,” a little black girl cutely said. “When I saw Jennie, I told my parents, she looks like me! I hope I can dance just like her! She’s so pretty!”

Jen placed her hands over her heart as she watched her speak. This was why she loved what she did. Representation matters.

“Can you perform some of BTS’ choreography?” the little girl was asked and performed like Jennie for the Fire MV.

"Wow~! You dance so well!" Jennie praised, walking into the view.

The girl began jumping up and down excitedly, "Jennie~!"

"Hi~! You were amazing! I'm so happy to meet you!" she kneeled and opened up her arms as she watched her run over to hug her.

The way the girl cutely ran up to her made the staff 'aw' as they watched the wholesome moment. The little girl bounced in her arms excitedly, hugging tightly. Standing up, Jennie held the girl in her arms, smiling brightly at her once she pulled away. 

"You are just the cutest!" Jen beamed.

"Thank you! I love you so much! I want to be a dancer just like you! Thank you for being so cool!" 

"Aw...I love you, too!" Jen got hugged again by her as her heart soared.

Once the little girl left, Jennie giggled. "She is sooooo cute! Oh my gosh. Now I want kids. Ugh, I want a mini me when I get married,"

--------

“That’s my girl, right there!” a male fan enthused when it was his turn to speak.

“Yeah! Like I love how she sticks to her roots and doesn’t change who she is in another country.” his guy friend added. “Jennie, thank you for representing us. And did I mention that she is so beautiful? Like wow. Photos don't do her justice!"

“Aw...that’s how you feel?” she walked out.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHH~!” the first guy yelled and backed up, causing her to laugh.

“Oh shit!” the second guy fell to the floor. “No way!”

“Yes, way! What’s up!?” she giggled and helped him up. 

She got a kick out of when fans stumbled when they saw her.

“This is not real,” the second guy embraced her and then watched his friend hug her next. 

"Damn, you smell good!" he blurted out, making her laugh again.

-------

“She’s SO cute. Like an adorable hamster.” another fan said.

“Yeah! And the cute thing she does with her nose. Sooo adorable. Her in the Fire music video was a rude awakening that Miss Bangtan is here to stay. We’re just so proud of her and-” the second fan squealed when she saw Jennie standing there, amused.

“Hey, I am a human being.” Jen teased, watching the girls squeal and jump around.

“Oh my God~!” they shouted before hugging her.

---------

“It’s nice to see someone that looks like me in a genre that is Asian dominated. She has remained strong in that industry and there were lots of high expectations for her debut. She exceeded them.” another black girl proudly said. “I just auditioned for a few K-Pop companies because of her. I was moved to see someone like her break barriers. Her passion is undeniable. Jennie, thank for you being an inspiration to us black women in K-Pop.”

“You are very welcome~! I’m looking forward to your debut one day.” Jen’s voice was heard, making the girl freeze. Once she skipped out, a scream escaped the girl’s lips and she kneeled down, covering her head.

"No way! Hi!" the girl stood up and embraced her.

"Hi! How are you?"

"I'm shaking! Oh my God, I cannot believe you're in front of me, right now!"

"Believe it! Thank you for your sweet words. That is so amazing that you were able to audition for some companies! When do you hear back from your auditions?"

"In a few weeks!"

"I hope you get accepted! I'd love to watch your journey,"

---------

“Her relatable personality is what gets me. I love that she is not afraid to speak her mind. She also replies a lot to her fans. I think that Jennie is the most accessible BTS member. She’s like the most active BTS member on social media and I love that. You have a nice chance of getting a reply or like from her. She never forgets her fans. She sets a very good example of what it means to appreciate fans,” another male fan mentioned.

Cartwheeling into the room, Jen landed on her feet and posed, “Hi! Surprise!”

“Whoa! Hi! Hello!” he stammered and embraced her. “You smell good!”

“Haha! Thank you!"

-----

“This girl can get down! My daughters got me into K-Pop and when they showed me BTS and explained what a bias is, I knew Miss Jennifer would be mine. Watching a black girl thrive and make a name for herself in another country, proud of her dark skin, beautiful as ever, I get emotional about it.” an older female fan said.

“Yeah, we record our mom turning up to Jennie’s verses in BTS’ songs. It’s hilarious.” her oldest daughter added. “Jennie made me love Nike. Like the girl makes the product look good. Nike, what are you waiting for!? Call her up!”

“Yeah, and I got into smarties because of her. She should really be in a Smartie commercial.” the youngest daughter mentioned.

“Those are amazing ideas! I hope I can achieve them!” Jen happily said, walking out.

“Oh my goodness,” the mother laughed, looking amazed while her daughters jumped excitedly.

“Hi! It’s very nice to meet you! Thank you for supporting me, BTS, and K-Pop as a whole,” Jen beamed and hugged them.

“Oh my God, you’re touching me.” the youngest squealed. “Thank you for being you, Jennie!” 

“It’s people like you who got me here today. So thank YOU for supporting me and the rest of BTS. ARMY is the best.” Jennie smiled.

--------

"Are you serious right now?” a loud irritated sigh escaped Angelina’s lips while Jen walked inside the hotel she was sharing with her. “What is the issue? It is not that big of a deal. Who cares what these stupid fans say? I love you and I’m tired of keeping things quiet. You know what, I’m done talking to you. Talk to me when you realize your stupidity.” she hung up and tossed her phone on the bed.

“Hey,” Jen spoke up, making Angelina look her way.

“Hey...”

“So, what was that about?” she set her bag down.

“Namjoon’s annoying ass.”

“What happened?”

“I’m really tempted to break up with him, right now. Like I am so done with this.”

Jennie was used to this type of behavior from her and remained calm, “Slow down. What do you mean by that?”

“We had a disagreement. And I’m just becoming so fed up about all this.”

“Fed up about what?”

“I just want our relationship to be public. But he doesn’t want it public. He wants us to remain private. And when I asked why he was all about my safety and bullshit. I wasn’t even listening, I was just so mad. Like nobody gonna touch me. I’m no thin-skinned person, I can handle the hate, I can just ignore it, easily. I just feel like the man is ashamed of dating me and that’s why he doesn’t want to go public.”

Jen frowned. Angelina had a bad habit of attempting to make drastic decisions when things went south and when she was emotional. 

One time when she was working on a song with an artist, she was fed up with her rap not going as planned and wanted to give up on it until Jen talked her out of it. And thankfully she did because that collab with The Weeknd will be performed at the Billboard Awards and is still high up on the charts. Now, what if she gave up on it? Then what? Angelina still thanks her to this day for snapping her out of it.

“I understand both sides to this," Jennie spoke. "I understand that here in America, it probably isn’t that much of a big deal. Everyone loves their celeb couples here, always wanting the details. But with the K-Pop fanbase, it’s much worse. Possessive fans, people having a harder time with accepting relationships, it’s scary. I get that here in America it is like that too but I've seen some scary shit in Seoul. Like you remember that whole mess with Kai and Krystal? And then Baekhyun and Taeyeon. Namjoon means well. He is just trying to think logically about it. I think he is planning on a way to announce your relationship but for now, he just wants to remain private. You see, you, you are impatient.”

“And what about it?”

She chuckled, “You want things to go your way and you don’t think sometimes before you make a decision. Namjoon plans and thinks carefully. He knows what he’s doing. I bet he’s even going to make a song for you, too. Ang, I feel like your relationship will be public but just not now. I know him. He is not embarrassed to date you. Trust him. Okay?”

Angelina sighed. “Yeah...I guess.”

"Good. Call back and apologize. That was mean to hang up on him,"

"Fine~," Angelina whined and called him back to talk things out. 

After she got off the phone, Jen spoke, “How was your dress rehearsal? Sorry, I couldn’t make it. All these interviews they want me in.”

“I am so happy that things are coming together. It's a huge honor to perform with The Weeknd. Like damn, what was I thinking trying to give up on the collab when my rap wasn’t working?”

“Yeah, what were you thinking? You were out of your mind when you told me that.”

Angelina laughed. “Yeah, yeah, well, again, thanks for being there for me and giving me that pep talk. I do need to lighten up. Oh and for our seats, I’m sitting with The Weeknd. You’ll be next to me. And guess who is sitting behind you~?”

“Who?”

“Shawn Mendes~!”

Jen widened her eyes. “No way!”

“Yes, way! And he’s pretty eager to meet you~! Jungkook about to lose his girlfriend~!” she teased.

“No~! He’s not,”

“Shawnnie is the new ship name for you guys. It’s so cute!”

“Oh my goodness.” 

"It is adorable. The mystery American girl in K-Pop with the guitar has charmed Canada's talented and handsome Shawn Mendes. Prepare yourself, sis. People are going to be looking for any sort of interaction between y'all,"

"First I need to make sure I don't pass out if I see this man,"

"Nah what you need to do is make sure Jungkook doesn't take the next flight over here," Angelina laughed.

"Stop~! It's going to be fine!"

------

The next day was finally the big day for Billboard. Jen was excited as her stylist, Janae came in with a few other stylists to prepare Angelina and her for the day. Both of them were in robes, vibing to one of Angelina’s playlists. They just finished eating breakfast and were now getting their makeup done.

After she put on her dress, Jennie checked herself out in the mirror. The white dress had a V neck, exposing the middle of her chest, and had a thigh high slit. She also wore the earrings that the fan gave her.

"Okay! Talk to me nice!“ Jen hyped Angelina up who spun around, modeling in her dress as she filmed her. "Work!”

Jennie then took a photo and then sent a photo to Jungkook.

Jen: Miss u!! You like it?

With Jungkook, who was at dance practice, took a break to see the message. He instantly almost dropped his phone, making Jimin notice and laugh.

“Jungkookie, you’ve been staring at the screen, motionless for the past five minutes. What are you looking at?” Jimin asked, peeking at his screen to see Jennie’s dress. He ended up laughing harder. “She’s so cute.”

JK: [image.jpg]

JK: AGHGAGHAJFAHHBWIFA.

JK: WOW!! I'm so proud to call you mine

She laughed at the image of him on the floor looking like he fainted dramatically.

Later, she browsed Twitter and found a tweet from Shawn Mendes, 'On my way to the Billboard Awards. I wonder where the girl with the guitar is. BTS_twt'

She smiled and playfully responded, 'I’m around. :) Come find me #Jen’

"GIRL! Come find me!?" Angelina laughed as she read the tweet.

"I was just trying to act cool!"

"All cool for Shawn? You are going to freeze. You freeze and stutter with everybody else,"

"Hush!"

Once they got in the van to make their way over to the show, Angelina took out her phone to film a Snapchat video with Jennie. “Billboard Awards here we comeeeee~!"

The anticipation heightened once they arrived, seeing fans waiting for the next celeb to walk out of their vehicle 

“You ready?” Jennie asked with a smile.

“As long as you’re with me, I’m ready for anything.” Angelina held her hand.

Once the door opened, Angelina and Jennie walked out hand in hand as screams and flash photography were heard. The two friends glanced at each other with a smile and walked to the magenta carpet, waving at fans who were shouting their names. Photographers shouted their names so they could look their way and get a good shot. Jen hasn’t been at this show since the Amity days and it was nice to be back.

ARMY found tweets from curious fans who had no idea who Jennie was or BTS when the broadcast announced that Jen and Angelina had arrived, giving background on both of them.

'The girl in the white dress is cute af! Wow, is she single?’

'She is looking like a snack! Both her and Angelina are!’

'All that melanin!’

'Wait isn’t that the baby from Amity!? She looks so good!’

It was crazy how all her faves were just walking around the carpet right in front of her. So many people she wanted to speak to and meet. It was going to be an interesting day. 

E! started their interview with them first.

“We are here with Angelina and a member of the Korean Pop Group, BTS, Jennie. Welcome ladies! How are you doing today?”

“I’m feeling less nervous now that my best friend is here with me.” Angelina gratefully said. “She’s holding me down.”

“Aw. I’m really happy to be here and support her. I am so excited to see her and The Weeknd perform. She deserves this. She’s worked so hard for this moment.” Jennie added.

“And the crazy thing is, he wasn’t even planning on performing today but then asked me to perform this song with him instead of him performing one of his solo songs. I was so shooked.”

“You two are definitely friendship goals. Angelina, anything to say about what to expect from your performance tonight?” the interviewer asked.

“Expect to let Angelina show you how it’s done on the stage. No doubt about that.”

“Angelina, we hear that you are working on your next album. Any word on when it will be released?”

“When you least expect it.” she teased.

“Any boyfriends? Are any of you seeing somebody?“

“Actually, yes.” Angelina proudly said, catching Jen off guard.

Was she about to leak her relationship on national TV?

Angelina smiled softly, “He’s a great man and he makes me very happy.”

“Who is the lucky guy?”

"That’s classified for now.”

"And what about you Jennie? Any man in your life?”

“Right now, I’m not looking for a man.” She responded with a smile, proud to be locked down with Jungkook who made her happy.

After some more interviews, Jen spotted her fansites around and approached them.

“No way, what are you guys doing here?” she laughed as they happily greeted her and told them they came to see her. “Wow, thank you! Hey, you got the braids I suggested. They look cute.” she pointed out to one of her fansites. 

A few months ago she spotted her at the airport and she asked Jennie about changing her hair to a different color.

“I’m glad you suggested the green box braids. They’re cute, I love it.” the fansite grinned.

“Good.” she turned to another fansite, “You. You’re the one who told me about that test. Did you pass?”

“Yes, I did! I got a B minus. Thankfully I got the extra credit questions right.”

“I knew you would! You make me so proud!”

As crazy as it may sound, Jen had decided to get closer to some of her fansites, especially the American ones, having a close bond with them.

When she saw the fansite that had been with her since the Amity Days, Jennie's eyes lit up, “I’m glad you’re here! I was hoping you’d come!”

“Wouldn’t miss it! You look so pretty! I'm happy you remember me!"

“Of course! And thank you! I just want to thank you all for your dedication and hard work. You guys really didn’t need to do this but the fact that you are all here to support me means so much. Want to take a selfie with one of your phones? If you’re comfortable with it.”

They all happily agreed, some choosing to block their faces with a mask if they didn't want to reveal who they were and Jen let Diana take the photo. Then she took individual selfies with each of them. She loved her fansites dearly.

“Diana, can you make sure they get fed today? They’re probably hungry from staying out all this time just to see me and take photos.” she requested. "My treat. And make sure they're hydrated,"

“You got it.” Diana got right to it.

Angelina and Jennie did some individual interviews but remained close to each other. 

“Here we are with Jennie of BTS! It’s been years since you attended the Billboard Awards. How does it feel to be back?”

“This is crazy. Although I’m not performing or anything, just being here to support my best friend is more than enough. I would say that I’m not nervous like I was when I was a kid with Amity.”

“Do you think that one day you’ll perform at the Billboard Awards?”

“That’d be cool. I’d like to if that’s possible. Whenever it’s featuring in a song or hey what if BTS could perform? I hope Billboard considers that, having a Korean act perform on their show. We make such great music. Please check out our album!"

“What did it feel like to get on that plane, without BTS to be here alone?”

“Weird. Like wow, my boys aren’t with me. I gotta do this by myself now. I like it although I do miss my boys. I know they’re watching so, hey guys!” she greeted them in Korean.

"Is there anyone, in particular, you’re looking forward to seeing?”

“Well...” she giggled nervously. “Shawn Mendes.”

"Have you seen the name people are calling you? Shawnnie. It's so cute,"

"Yeah, it is pretty cute. I wasn't expecting this big of a reaction from our fanbases. I'm so flattered. He is just so amazing and I hope today is the day I can finally meet him. I admire his work so much,"

"Aw. Is a collab between you two in the future?"

"If he wants to work with me, I would be so down. Fingers crossed! I'd love to work with him! Ah...he's a pretty amazing guy," she couldn't stop the big smile from appearing on her face.

-----

Shawn Mendes had been on the magenta carpet for a while, doing interviews and taking photos. His eyes lit up when the same interviewer who had talked with Jennie said that they recently interviewed the girl with the guitar.

"You did?" a big smile began to appear on his handsome features. "She's here? Oh man...my day just got better,"

"Yeah, she spoke very highly of you. What do you think of the girl with the guitar?"

"She's a pretty amazing girl. Her voice and the way she plays the guitar...blown away,"

"She told us she'd love to collab with you,"

"I want to collab with her, too," he immediately said, happy with her statement.

----

Jennie had a young male interview her as he introduced her to the camera. But once she looked directly at him, smiling charmingly, he began to stutter.

“So, Jennie y-you, I mean...I’m sorry,” he laughed nervously, trying to remember the question he was going to ask.

It looked like he was thrown off by her smile for a brief moment and got lost in her charm.

'Cute,’ she thought, amused.

“It’s okay,” she giggled.

“Sorry, this is my first time interviewing.”

“I’m glad I get to have the honor of you interviewing me for the first time. Let’s talk about how exciting the Billboard Awards are,” she tried to calm his nerves as they briefly talked about what they were looking forward to.

Once he felt at ease, he began to ask her his questions, “You did a cover for Stitches a while back. How did it feel for Shawn to acknowledge that?”

“I remember running all over the place when I found out. Someone that I admire as a performer watching my craft. Surreal. I can’t wait to meet him!”

“Do people notice you easily in South Korea?”

“Oh definitely. It’s so obvious to notice me. If it’s not my melanin, it’s my hair. So, people are quick to want to get autographs. I’m always happy to see the fans.”

“I have to say, an African American woman like you representing black women in an Asian country is very impressive. Are you aware of the supporters you have?”

“Yeah! It’s very overwhelming for sure. Words can’t explain how much of a blessing this is.” 

“And lastly, can you speak some Korean to the viewers?”

She nodded and looked at the camera, deciding to give a message to the fans and BTS, “Thank you for always supporting me. Your Bangtan Girl is doing well and is happy. I ate today, don’t worry. No, I am not dehydrated. Please look forward to Angelina’s performance. I love you! Fighting!”

“I have no idea what you said but it sounded great.” he chuckled with her as she translated her statement. 

She even taught him a few basic words before the interview was over which helped him relax even more. 

After their interview, he went on to put out a few tweets about her:

'I just interviewed BTS’ Jennie and just wow...her smile left me speechless. Her beauty made me stutter a bit,'

'I was surprised at how relaxed she is. This was my first time interviewing her and when I saw videos of her performing, I thought she was as hyper as she is on stage.’

'But here she has a calming demeanor. She is so chill. A very mellow and soothing person. Thank you, Jennie.’

------

As Shawn was being interviewed by E!, his eyes occasionally wandered around the area to see if he could spot Jennie. And when he did he began to get distracted while answering questions.

"Ah, I'm sorry, could you excuse me for a moment? I found her," he smiled kindly.

-----

Walking around with Angelina, taking photos, Jennie is nudged by her.

“Don’t look now but a certain someone is watching you~!” Angelina whispered.

“Who?” Jen whispered back.

“You know who.” she teased. Her statement made Jen widen her eyes and she attempted to take a peek but Angelina stopped her. “Girl, don’t make it obvious. But he staring at ya. Oh shit. He’s...walking over here. Oh my gosh, he’s walking over here.”

“What!?” Jen panicked, grabbing onto her. “What should I do?!"

“Be calm. Be calm. Go say hi. I’ll be over there.”

“You’re leaving?!” she asked in a high voice.

Patting Jen’s back with a giggle, Angelina began to walk away, “You got this.”

'Oh my God...' Jen thought.

Jennie’s heart continued to race as she didn’t know what to expect. Her celeb crush was strolling right where she was. She needed to control her nerves. She didn't even know what to say yet.

“Excuse me,” a gentle hand grabbed hers, making her stomach flip. “Girl with the guitar?”

Turning around, she looked up to meet his eyes. His smile made him look even more handsome up close as he looked pleased to see her.

When she found her voice, she broke out into a smile, “It looks like you found me.”

“Looks like I did. It’s nice to finally meet you. Wow.“ he moved to hug her as she eagerly wrapped her arms around him.

‘Oh my God, his hugs! Lord have mercy, he’s so cute.’ she squealed to herself.

Pulling away he asked, "What’s your name?”

“My name is Jennie. To be honest, I was trying to act all confident in front of you but in reality, I was nervous to meet you.”

He chuckled nervously, “You’re telling me, I had butterflies when making my way over to you. Your cover for my song, I was blown away by your performance. I really love your voice.”

“Aw really? I love your voice, too.” she felt her face heat up, “I’d love to make music with you.”

“Yeah, I’d love that too,"

She continued to have butterflies in her stomach as she talked with him and it finally set in that she was in the presence of one of her favorite artists. He was so pleasant and friendly towards her as they got to know each other.

Their interaction began to go viral because cameras were taking photos, recording them, and live tweeting about the interaction. Fans were freaking out at how they looked at each other and when Shawn reached out immediately for a hug. 

“The North America leg of my tour starts in July. Would you like to come by during one of the shows?” he asked. 

“Yes!” Jen’s eyes lit up. “I’ll double check my schedule and discuss it with Big Hit. If I can make it, I will definitely come. I may have some free time around the September 10th show. I will keep you posted.”

“Awesome! I'd love it if we'd be able to sing together at the show. Maybe we can sing I Know What You Did Last Summer." 

"For real!? You want me to sing that with you? I'll do Camila Cabello justice!"

"I know you will. It'll be fun. And when I write some new music maybe we can record a song or two together. Or like a remix of one of my songs. I really want to sing with you,"

Her heart soared at how eager he was to sing with her. She was thrilled her voice was able to touch him to be this excited about collaborating.

"Sounds like a plan! When BTS has their next tour, you should definitely come if you can.”

“I'd like that. So, you sing in Korean?”

“Uh huh. There are some English words in there, though. And we sing in Japanese when we create Japanese songs.”

“Wow, that sounds intense. Is it difficult for you?”

“Very. The most challenging for me is singing in Japanese. I’m still not quite familiar with that language but I’m trying my best to connect with our Japanese fans the best way I can. I'm still learning here and there with the language.”

"You're incredible,"

She giggled and covered her mouth. "Thank you,"

"I'll see you at the show. Can't wait to see you again soon," he pulled her in for another hug and walked away, leaving her face flushed.

Angelina laughed as she walked back over to Jennie and began to tease her in a high voice, "It's going to be OK, I was trying to act all cool! And yet Miss Walker froze and started giggling like a cute fangirl. I am so done with you. You folded faster than I anticipated,"

"Shut it!"

"So how'd it feel to be hugged by your celeb crush not once but twice? You two are trending on Twitter as we speak,"

"I am so happy,"

"Yeah, you keep cheesing. It's adorable,"

-------

Outside where all the production trucks were, Angelina and Jennie met up with Layla who wore a shirtless pink blazer and pink pants.

“Ooh! I see you. Look at you, exposing skin. We are SO back! This is a look~” Angelina complimented and hugged her

“I had to pop out. You two look so goooood!” Layla cheered. “Let’s take some pictures.”

Jen happily wrapped her arms around Layla, pressing her cheek against hers as they grinned goofily for the camera but in the background was Angelina photobombing with a meme face expression. Then they took some cute photos.

Jen posted the photos, 'I’m happy we got to see you! Looking forward to your solo music. Let’s leave the past behind,’

The photo went viral as soon as it was posted with Amity trending. Fans replied:

‘Three out of five! Come on, I hope the last two can make amends!’

‘Why are you still friends with her?’

'They look so fake’

'Three queens!‘

'I’m not crying! You are!’

'JENLA STANS RISE!’

'Awww I’m so happy they reunited and showed love to each other’

'Finally! Now we need Hailey and Trinity’

'I hope Hailey and Trinity can work things out with these three’

'I still don’t forgive her’

'This is the content I like to see. Positivity and uplifting each other’

‘People out here thinking Layla is some kind of demon. She apologized and they all made up. Let’s hope Hailey and Trinity can do the same and we can get an Amity reunion’

'THERE! Now STFU about them all hating each other’

'CHOKE HATERS!’

'Hailey, Trinity WYA? Apologize and get back together!’

'I prefer it to just be the three of them. No need for Hailey and Trinity’

'I don’t know how to feel about this. I just hope they’re all on good terms’

'I wonder what Hailey and Trinity think of this’

'Is anyone going to talk about Angelina in the background tho? LOL’

While Jen was backstage, Rihanna approached her as she stopped walking. 

"You!" Rihanna called out, causing Jennie to turn around in surprise. "You are a bad bitch!" she praised and brought up how she watched Jennie's dance cover of the GTA Remix of Bitch Better Have My Money. She even told her that she looked beautiful and had been watching her do her thing in BTS, seeing great things for her in the future.

'No fucking way I just met Rihanna and she's praising me! What the hell!? Ahhhhhh!' Jennie began freaking out in her head as she kept thanking her for the praises and began to fangirl over how much she adored her. 

Jennie was starstruck and managed to bring up how she had been one of her inspirations and hoped to be versatile in music like her. She even impressed Rihanna by speaking in Korean. The artist gave Jennie some words of wisdom while continuing to praise her for making a name for herself in Korea. 

The two took a few photos together and Jen posted them, making fans freak out, 'I met Rihanna! Ahhhh! She called me a bad bitch! Life is amazing! #Jen'

Jen even met DNCE and raved about her love for the guitar, building a big connection with them. Pete Wentz had approached her first and asked her about her guitar passions, since he recognized her from some Fall Out Boy covers she had posted. She even told him she would love to collaborate with Fall Out Boy and to check out BTS.

Fans quickly noticed that a few celebs had started following Jennie and BTS on social media,

'GUYS! Jennie is being followed by CELEBS! LOOK AT THIS! Fall Out Boy just followed her!’

'RIHANNA FOLLOWED JENNIE! RIHANNA IS FOLLOWING MORE K-POP IDOLS! G-DRAGON, TAEYANG, CL AND NOW JENNIE! OMG! DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG THAT IS!?'

'Rihanna recently liked a video of Jennie and J-Hope dancing to one of her songs, too!'

Jennie even met Justin Bieber and spoke on behalf of Jungkook of his admiration for him and that he covered a few of his songs. Justin personally asked for the links, promising to give them a listen. 

And once she ran into Shawn Mendes again, she finally took photos with him while Angelina took a few candids of them speaking and hugging.

Posting them on Twitter, Jen tweeted, 'Your girl met Shawn Mendes~! #Fangirling #HeCuteAF'

Fans trended #JennieMetShawn and #Shawnnie while tweeting,

'WE STAN’

'Jennie is NETWORKING NETWORKING! She's meeting everybody'

'COLLAB’

'Oh my God!’

'Lol he cute af, girl SAME'

'Biggest ship ever! This is so cute! I loved the anticipation of them finally meeting! This was worth the wait!'

'Somebody play Kid in Love by Shawn Mendes because this is adorable omg'

'LOOK AT HOW HE IS LOOKING AT HER! Kid In Love by Shawn Mendes!'

'A dream come true! I am so happy for her’

'BTS and Shawn fans, how we feeling?’

'SOBBING’

'YASSSSS’

'Wait isn’t this the BTS girl? OMG’

'Yooooooo’

'Legends!’

'My favs finally met!’

'I SHIP!’

'Look at how cheesy her smile is. She is so happy. Awwww’

'You deserve this!’

When they walked into the venue, as soon as BTS fans spotted Jennie walking, loud cheers were heard and she turned around to see them waving at her. She waved back and went to follow Angelina to where they’d be seated.

Throughout the show, fansites recorded Jen’s reactions, including her eating smarties during the show and frowning when she ran out of them. Then when she kept chewing her many pieces of gum like a cow fans thought it was hilarious and kind of cute. 

Shawn and Jennie even exchanged snacks during the event, as their fans continued to ship them. She was even kind enough to offer him smarties before she ran out which fans pointed out.

Fans made sure to get a good view of Jennie watching in admiration to Shawn Mendes performing Stitches and singing along. Once it was time for Angelina to perform with The Weeknd, who had won many awards that night, Jen was the first one to stand up and dance, hyping them up as their performance moved the entire crowd. Angelina had walked out on stage with a purpose, as she rapped aggressively while The Weeknd was next to her. 

Being nervous was an understatement for her. It was a big moment but when she locked eyes with Jennie who was cheering her on in the crowd, it completely made her feel at ease.

Jennie was like her remedy. Angelina would always call her, even if their time zones were different. Call her for things such as calming her down when she’s nervous, feeling hopeless, having issues, and wanting a second ear to listen to her craft. No matter what, Jen always encouraged her to communicate no matter the time it was in Korea. And to see her best friend here to support her, meant everything.

After the performance, Jen made her way backstage, rushing towards Angelina who had tears of joy in her eyes.

“You were amazing! I am SO proud of you!” Jen squealed and embraced her.

Unable to hold it in, Angelina began to cry, fortunate about the performance as The Weeknd joined in the group hug.

“You did so well! You killed it out there. We had fun out there, didn’t we?” he cheered.

“Hell yeah.” Angelina pulled away. “Thank you so much for this opportunity. That was so fun, man. Like damn, we really did that!”

As the staff backstage was all congratulating them, they wanted Angelina and The Weeknd to take a photo to post on Billboard’s social media.

Fans tweet:

‘Angelina is that bitch!’

‘RAW! Just RAW! The Weeknd and Angelina killed it’

‘Angelina did what she had to do!’

‘The fact that The Weeknd wasn’t even planning on performing tonight and decided to perform with Angelina! LOVE!’

‘This was FIRE!’

Later, Jennie even met Fifth Harmony and bonded with them quickly as they talked about their music. She praised their work and hoped for more success for them. She found herself vibing with Normani and Camila the most. She took tons of photos with the group and planned to keep in touch with all of them.

When the girls left, Camila Cabello stayed behind to speak to her further.

“Hey, I know this may be a bit abrupt but I wanted to ask you, you were the first to leave Amity, right?”

“Yeah! It was hard to make that decision but sometimes you just gotta spread your wings and go somewhere you think is better for you.” Jen responded. “It may be a tough decision but you need to do what is best for your life and you need to be happy. So, if you have music that you want to share with the world or a vision and where you are is not doing that for you, perhaps it’s time to go another route. That’s what I thought of when I left Amity. It sucks about what happened. I hope one day we can all be friends again and not be on bad terms but I do not regret leaving. It was the best decision for me.”

Camila nodded and smiled softly. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

“Are you...getting ideas?”

Camila hesitated. “I know we just met and all but you understand how I feel. I just want to explore my individuality as an artist. I love this group. But I feel like I can do so much more without being held back.”

Jennie nodded and held her hands while giving her a bright smile. “All of you are so talented in that group. And whenever you all want to do solo stuff, I hope it's just as successful as what you have achieved so far in the group. And you have me as your new friend. I'll support you,"

"You're really sweet, thank you. I'll support you, too. You said you're in a K-Pop group, now?"

"Yes. Korean pop. The group is called BTS. There are 7 guys and 1 chick, yours truly,"

“Wow, there’s a lot of you. It must be tough yet empowering being the only girl in the group, right?”

“It has its challenges but it is very rewarding.”

“Have you thought of doing some solo work in the future?”

“Yeah, I have a lot of stuff in my documents. The guys got stuff cooking too but we're still united and will remain a group. The stuff I have been working on I am not quite ready to release yet. I want to touch up on the songs as well. One day the world will hear it. Maybe in a few years. For now, I’d like to continue focusing on the group’s activities. The company I'm in now gives us more creative freedom than when I was in SongStress,”

----------

When Angelina and Jen made their way back to the hotel, they relaxed in bed, eating snacks.

“Just an FYI, Shawn was totally staring at you throughout the entire show.” Angelina giggled.

“Don’t play.” Jennie playfully kicked her.

“He was! He kept smiling and everything. I bet he likes you. He’s going to be disappointed when he finds out you’re taken~ haha,”

“I doubt that. He's just very happy to meet me,” she chuckled.

"You'd be surprised the guys that be watching you. I mean think of Jungkook and how long he's been watching you and pinning for you,"

Jen smiled as she thought of how things came about with her and Jungkook. "Touche,"

“Okay, so I wanted to wait until after the show to tell you this...” Angelina’s tone changed into a more joyful one.

“What happened?”

“So, you know the XXL Magazine, right? How they have their freshman class? Well...I’m going to be the only female in this year’s class!“

Jen’s eyes widened. “What!? Oh my gosh! That’s friggin huge!” she yelled in excitement and pulled her in for a hug as they both started freaking out.

“Ahhhh! Thank you!”

“When did you find out?!”

“A few days ago! I was on cloud nine! I cried when they told me. Things are really coming up for me. I can’t believe this. I’m really doing it. I am doing the things I wanted to do. Songstress couldn’t give that to me. But I persevered and now I’m doing my own thing.”

“As you should! What will you be doing there?”

“I’m supposed to be recording freestyles, cyphers, solo and group interviews. I am so excited.”

“Lit! I cannot wait to check it out!”

“You have K-Con coming up, right? I was wondering if you wanted to watch me film for the magazine. I’m really nervous about it. But with you there, I can feel a little more at ease. Ugh, I’m sorry. I always ask you to accompany me to all these events.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m glad you want me around to watch your success! You watch my success! We’re best friends. Of course, I’m going to be there and watch you grow. If Big Hit can let me attend, I will attend,"

“Thanks. It’s just that you just make me feel more confident and give me a sense of security. Like I have someone with me besides my manager and team that I can trust fully and can help me no matter what. I have my other friends in the industry but you are my number one. When I was on that stage tonight, when I saw you, my nervousness went away. You’ve always been there for me. So, I wanted to say thank you for the tenth thousandth time. I'll work on not getting so nervous when you're not there. But for now, in this moment, thank you for being here,"

Jen laughed. “You’re very welcome for the tenth thousandth time. If I’m free, I’ll tag along.”

“I love you,” Angelina gave her a big kiss on the cheek and another tight hug.

“I love you, too!”

“So, have you told your parents you’re dating Jungkook?” she pulled away.

Jen exhaled. “No. They don’t know yet. Jungkook is eager to see them when we travel for K-Con. He wants to tell them about us. He’s been trying to bring it up for a while and last time we finally had a conversation about it after I couldn’t think of another way to get out of it.”

She thought about the conversation.

-----

“Since we’ll be back in America for K-Con, let’s give your family a visit. It’ll be great to tell them about us,” Jungkook happily smiled.

Jennie hesitated. Truth be told, she’s been trying to avoid this conversation. He’s been bringing it up for a while now. And lately, he seemed even more persistent as the event was approaching rather quickly.

“Let’s...wait a little longer,” she murmured with an apologetic smile.

Normally when she said that, Jungkook would leave it be. But this time, he didn’t want to. 

“Jennie, you’ve been avoiding this conversation for a while. Every time I mention it you freeze and act weird. What is the problem?” he spoke up with a frown. “Are you...”

“Never.” she cut him off, knowing what he was about to say.

She shook her head and let out a breath. Maybe it was time to let him know her feelings. She should be open about this and communicate.

“Tell me,” he softly added, placing his large, warm hand on hers.

“I’m nervous about it,” she admitted, looking down. “My dad is totally fine. I know he’ll happily accept you. He loves you and the rest of Bangtan. But my mom...she’s...not that open-minded and is one of those family members who would rather have me date within my race. And I can just see the disappointment now. I don’t want to deal with it. I don’t want you to deal with that.”

Jungkook’s eyes softened as he listened to her vent.

“It sucks. You make me so happy. And I love being in this relationship with you. But I don’t want any negativity from my mom and her views. I don’t want that to interfere with what we have. I don’t want to have an argument with her about you. I know I'm going to just get angry and lash out at her for not being happy for me that I found someone who sees me for me. I just wished she'd stop looking at color and just look at the personality of the person,"

Lifting up her chin, he smiled in reassurance. “It’s okay. We can make it work. I will do whatever I can to be accepted by your mom. So, she can support us. Trust me. Things are going to be fine. I promise.”

-------

Jennie exhaled sharply at the memory while telling Angelina everything.

“I am freaking out, Angelina. I just...I don’t want to deal with my mom on this,"

“Hey. Trust in him. If he says he got you covered and things will be all right, trust him. I bet he’s had this all planned out on telling your parents that you’re dating. And I hope that ya mama can stop being so closed minded. It is 2016. Get with the program.”

“You’re telling me,” Jen chuckled. "But yeah, you're right. I will trust in Jungkook. He always knows how to make things right. I can do this with him,"

------

The next afternoon, Jennie got ready for the day and finished baking, getting teased by Angelina about it.

"And you baked for him!? Girl...good luck when you go back to Seoul," Angelina laughed out loud. 

"Shut up! I'm trying to be nice and leave a good impression!"

"Girl, you already made a good impression when you covered Stitches. Shawn is already smitten with you. Poor Jungkook," she teased.

"What!? Jungkook knows I bake for everybody! I baked for him and Bangtan before I left!"

"Uh huh,"

Jennie proceeded to get filmed for a Bangtan Bomb as the camera followed her to find Shawn's hotel room.

“I am on my way to surprise Shawn Mendes!” she cheered. “I baked him cupcakes and before I leave I want to give them to him. I hope he likes them. I’m super nervous,”

Knocking on the door, it took a moment for him to open up, dressed for the day. When he took a look at her, his eyes lit up.

“Jennie!”

“Hey! I wanted to stop by and say hi! And to give you these. I baked these for you.”

She walked inside his room after he let her in and presented him with Harry Potter themed cupcakes.

“Oh wow! These are for me? Thank you so much! And it’s Harry Potter!” he said with excitement.

He was so going to enjoy these on the road.

"Yeah! I remember you loving Harry Potter. I gotta take the test to see which house I'm in. You're Gryffindor, right?"

"Correct! I bet you'd be Gryffindor with me since you're so extraordinary,"

Feeling her face flush at the compliment, she giggled. "Thank you. I'll keep you posted on my results when I take the test. I hope the cupcakes taste good. I know your schedule is busy, I won’t keep you long but I hope we can see each other again, real soon,”

“Yeah! We’ll definitely keep in touch. Let’s take another photo before you go.” He suggested

“Yeah! Sure!”

Their interactions with each other were talked about immediately and even made K-Pop articles. 

‘Sparkling Friendship between BTS’ Jennie and Shawn Mendes’

It talked about the two meeting at the award show and his recent Instagram post of his photo with her and the cupcakes as the caption said, 'I am so happy I finally got to meet you. Your warm, positive energy is infectious. One of the sweetest, and kindest interactions I had. Thank you, Jennie. Can't wait to sing with you. See u soon.'

Fans commented:

'WE STAN!’

'Awwwww’

‘Jennie has won at life’

‘She must be on cloud nine! Not only did she meet him but the girl was bold enough to bake for the man. Girlfriend material!’

‘Get you a girl that bakes for you!’

'I love how she bakes for everybody she meets. Bangtan is so lucky to eat her baking 24/7'

‘Now date!’

‘Collab!’

‘Thank you for being so kind to our Miss Bangtan. This means so much to her. I’m glad you two met!’

After hanging with Shawn, Jen and Angelina went to get a quick workout at the hotel gym. 

"I'm telling you! Jungkook is going to freak when he finds out about you baking for the man," Angelina laughed

"I bake for everyone!" Jennie countered. "We've been over this,"

"I wonder how jealous he's gonna be,"

"Shut it! He'll be fine...hopefully...aw man, he's probably losing it, right now," she groaned. 

"Oh yeah," Angelina giggled.

After their workout, they hear a voice say "Excuse me,"

Turning around, Jennie looked surprised. “Oh my gosh, hi!”

“Hi! It’s nice that I finally found you!” Halsey grinned, with a box in her hands. 

“Me!? Hi! Oh my gosh, you’re Halsey! Hi! I-I love Badlands!”

“You said hi like three times,” Angelina laughed, making Halsey laugh too before she greeted Angelina whom she already knew.

“It’s okay, I’m nervous too. Thanks for listening to my music. I’ve been wanting to say hello to you since the show but I had to leave before I could find you. How are you?”

“I’m great! The show was so much fun. I hope that I can attend next year too and with BTS,"

"Yeah! I'd love to meet the boys!"

"I'm sure they'd be happy to meet you. I would hug you but I’m sweaty,”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m about to leave and I know you’re about to go back to Korea but I wanted to give you this. It’s a big case of smarties. I did my research and saw that this is your favorite snack so I wanted to give you this,” she presented the box to her.

“Oh no, more smarties. You’ve done it now, Halsey,” Angelina teased.

“What!? Oh my gosh, thank you! Wow! I am so eating these on the plane,” Jen said excitedly.

“You're welcome! I hope you enjoy them! I’m doing the rest of my Badlands tour in America and if you’re free, stop by!”

“If I can make it, I will! And I’ll bake something for you. I baked something for Shawn earlier,”

“I saw! It looks great, I would love to try your baking. You want to take a picture?"

“Yeah! Let’s!”

[snortlaughs]

trial paperwork

fandom: ace attorney

pairing: narumitsu/wrightworth

characters included: lee!wright, ler!edgeworth

word count: 1.3k

genre: fluff. SO MUCH FLUFF.

warnings: none

author’s note: YIPPEEEEE FIRST ACE ATTORNEY FIC! ALSO I HAVEN’T POSTED A FIC IN SO LONG HIIIIII i hope that you all enjoy~

Phoenix laid down on the couch in Edgeworth’s office, looking at his navy-blue coat that snugly hung on the back of the heavy mahogany door. It was quite an eyesore relative to the rest of the room, which was covered in various shades of maroon.

He listened intently to the noises of pen on paper that came from the desk behind him. It was a Tuesday evening, and Miles was filling out paperwork for the trial that was scheduled for the upcoming Friday.

Wright knew this.

However, he still asked…

“What are you working on over there?”

Edgeworth rolled his eyes with a light groan before he placed his pen onto his nicely-polished desk, finally allowing Nick his full attention.

“Wright, this is the third time that you’ve asked me that question, and it’s going to be the third time that I’ve answered that question.” The man growled. “Does nothing get through your thick skull?”

Phoenix shifted his torso with a grunt, now laying on the sofa tummy-down and meeting Edgeworth’s disgruntled gaze.

The defense attorney rested his chin in his hand and grinned his signature, shit-eating grin, which only annoyed Edgeworth even more.

“Alright, don’t lie to me, Edgey.” He hummed, swaying his legs in the air rhythmically. “You didn’t really answer the first two times that I asked. You just shushed me or told me to leave. Very rudely, might I add.”

“Okay, well,” Edgeworth uttered after he took a deep breath. “Listen closely, because I am not answering any more of your brainless questions after this.”

Wright cupped his left ear with his hand to indicate that he was, indeed, listening.

“I am working on documentation for our upcoming trial — getting everything sorted.” Edgeworth said, grateful for the fact that no noise was coming out of Phoenix’s mouth. For once. “Shouldn’t you be doing the same thing? Why are you here bothering me when you could be doing something productive?”

“Well, since you asked oh-so nicely,” Wright purred, earning a huff from the silver-haired man, “I already got all of my paperwork finished, so I don’t have anything to worry about. Also, I like bothering you. You get worked up so easily — it’s fun to watch.”

Edgeworth, at this point, had had enough.

Not only was Phoenix Wright, his rival, invading his space and filling his mind with useless thoughts — now he was just humiliating him!

Not to mention, the warm blush that was building up in his cheeks as a result of Nick’s comment certainly wasn’t helping.

“Oh, it’s fun to watch, is it?” Miles scoffed, standing up from his desk. He shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders and haphazardly tossed it onto his chair.

Wright, satisfied with his pestering, flopped onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling. He crossed his arms over his head, each hand holding the opposite elbow. “Why, yes! Very much so.”

Before Nick knew it, Miles was standing next to the couch and then clumsily climbing onto his lap, straddling him. He used his left hand to grasp the defense attorney’s forearms and hold them firmly against the sofa.

Phoenix, after his initial surprise wore off, began squirming underneath Edgeworth’s weight with a goofy grin.

It was almost as if he knew what was coming.

“M—Miles!” The pointy-haired man stuttered, his eyes darting between the prosecutor’s free hand and his face, which was painted with a playful, happy smirk — an expression that Wright had never seen from Miles before.

Edgeworth was pretty much always frowning. To be honest, this was almost a nice change of pace. Almost.

“I’ll show you what’s fun to watch, Mr. Wright.”

This being said, he started teasingly wiggling his fingers in the air and hovering his hand over various areas of Wright’s torso, causing the man to let out a startled squeak.

“Quihit doing that!” He whined, kicking his feet petulantly against the rose-colored cushions.

“Aww, Phoenix…” Miles said, raising his eyebrows. “I haven’t even touched you yet. I wonder if you’re still just as ticklish as you were when we were kids… I think I may just have to test that out.”

That being said, Edgeworth began lightly clawing at Wright’s sides through the fabric of his collared shirt.

A shrill squeal rang through the spacious room. Phoenix instinctively sucked his tummy in to avoid the tingly sensations that danced across his skin.

“Edgewohohorth! I—I’m stihihihill just as tihihicklish as I was when we were kihihids! You don’t have to tehehest it! Reheheheheally!” The man babbled, his cheeks already covered in a blotchy, red flush.

Edgeworth shook his head with a scoff, unable to wipe his smile off of his face. “So endearing…” he thought.

“Hmmm,” Miles hummed teasingly. “Yeah, I don’t have to test it… you’re right about that. Your sensitivity is obvious.”

“…But I’m still going to tickle you to pieces.”

Phoenix barely had the time to pout before Edgeworth stealthily untucked his top and started poking sporadically at his bare ribs.

“Mihihihiles!” Nick howled, pushing his blushy face into his bicep in order to avoid his assailant’s teasing gaze.

He attempted to free his arms from Edgeworth’s hold, but the prosecutor was surprisingly strong. Instead, he did what seemed to be the next best thing — he breathlessly wriggled under the man’s weight in an attempt to dodge his pokes.

“What, Wright?” Edgeworth said, cocking his head innocently and ceasing his teasy touches for a moment. “This is what you get for bothering me! Maybe you’ll be a bit more mindful next time.”

“B—buhuhut it’s so fuhuhun to annohohoy youuuu! Yohou’re so cu—!”

Before Wright could finish his sentence and fluster Miles even more than he already had, the attacker shot his hand under Phoenix’s left arm and began moving his nimble fingers as quickly as they could go.

“EHEHEHEDGEWOHORTH!” the attorney shrieked, thrashing his torso back and forth in a feeble attempt to break free from the prosecutor. 

Miles’ face, at this point, could have been compared to that of a freshly-boiled lobster — bright red. This was possibly the reddest that he’d ever been, and he was eternally grateful that Wright was too out of sorts to notice. Hopefully.

“W—What is it, Nick?” Edgeworth said falteringly, trying hard to regain his composure after having thought about the fact that he was definitely noticeably flustered.

He switched his hand to the defense attorney’s right underarm and continued his attack, which earned him an adorably shrill yelp. 

“Can’t take it?” 

“NOHOHOHO! Plehehehehease have mehehehercy!” 

“Fine, fine.” Edgeworth said, admittedly quite bummed that his tickly onslaught had finished. He let go of Phoenix’s arms, which he immediately slammed down on either side of his torso as giggles continued to pour past his lips. 

Edgeworth rested his hands on Wright’s chest and looked down at the man laying under him, almost as if he was admiring the mess that he had made. 

Phoenix was quivering, and tears of mirth were being wiped from his deep blue eyes. 

Miles scoffed with a grin. “You’re still such a child, Wright.” 

Phoenix, after a few more moments, had mostly calmed down. However, his voice was still shaky and he was still unable to wipe his dorky smile off of his lips. 

He looked up at Miles, who turned his face away in faux nonchalance.

“M—Maybe that’s true, Edgey,” he said, as solidly as he could. “But you know what?” 

Edgeworth slowly turned his face back towards Wright’s, taking fistfuls of the spiky-haired defense attorney’s button-up shirt into his palms.

“...What?” 

Phoenix grinned.

“I think that you’re a bit of a child, too. I mean, after all these years, you remembered how ticklish I was — you even went out of your way to check and see if I still am,” he stated matter-of-factly. “This must have been taking up a lot of your mental real estate, huh, Miles? Thinking about how ticklish I am, I mean.”

Edgeworth’s eyes widened as he immediately turned away from Wright.

His face was beet-red, and his blush was quickly trailing down his neck. He silently swore at himself, irritated by the fact that he got flustered so easily.

“Seems like I got it right,” Phoenix purred, poking playfully at Edgeworth’s sides and taking note of how he flinched.

[murosakiiro]

A much needed Life Update

So, let's get to it shall we?

Lets start with projects Im working on.

As pretty much everyone is aware, I'm a published author now and the first (yes First!) Trilogy in my series is out. I'm very happy, awed and proud to finally be more than just self published and I cant wait to introduce everyone to the next trilogy.

I'm also working on a free to read story, The Fallen Rise, which I'm also grateful for all the support! Just having people read it supports me and the story and allows me to keep updating semi-daily! Yay for free support!

I'm also working on redoing my old old comic idea, Son of Nyarlathotep. It's a horror adventure comic just oozing lovecraftian lore and I am so excited to share it! I almost have a month buffer on pages, so I'll hopefully start posting that in June.

Im also working on another horror project, a untitled game I'm developing with my partner. We're still in the early concept and planning stages but with my main game project on hold, this is a nice way to keep expanding my toolset for when work on BOTA can begin again.

As far as BOTA, the project is on hold for the foreseen future. I just dont have the extra income to pay the team and despite us being so close to having a Demo. I dont believe in asking people to work for free. So, until I can pay the team, the demo is on hold.

Now for Life stuff.

So, some of you know, my life has been pretty hectic and stressful since September of last year. Well, without putting myself on blast, I'm glad to say I'm almost through it. There's only one more loose end to wrap up and fingers crossed, It'll be tied up soon and I can officially move past it. It's been stressful, anxiety inducing and definitely has changed the course of my life, but it wasn't all bad. It allowed me to meet my partner, who is amazing and taught me some very important lessons about myself and finally, finally, finally forced me to face and deal with my trauma. I'll be happy when it's over and I'll carry these lessons with me going forward.

Speaking of which, as of now, Im a stay at home parent. I can't afford a babysitter or daycare in my area so the only option for me is to watch my daughter myself. Obviously, this is a big scary step for me, so believe me when I say I appreciate the support on my projects. I'm working to secure a work from home job but until then, book royalties and rev share from The Fallen Rise is my only income.

And thats it

Sorry for the long update but I don't do these often. Again, thank you everyone for ALL the support you give me and for being my strength through everything.

[weaselle]

Wow. It's good to look back at stuff like this. I'm finally going into business for myself in a couple months (not restaurants, thank gods, i'll be working with dogs :D ) and i don't expect to scale my business to a point where i'm hiring people... but there are definitely things i miss about leading a team.

I think a lot of it was that i got to ensure the employees i was managing got a break from some of the terrible management we've all commonly experienced.

I remember the second week i was a manager at that restaurant, the sewers backed up through the floor drains and flooded the bathroom floor with about an inch of sewage.

I was in the back of house when the host and two servers came back to tell me. The back of house crew got very still and looked at me to see how i'd handle it. Especially the dishwasher.

See, I remember being a dishwasher. And the dishwasher often gets assigned janitor tasks. And more than that, like most California restaurants, the back of house crew was mostly hispanic, and i had spent many years working back of house -- hell that's the entire reason i speak spanish -- and i am all too familiar with the way hispanic restaurant workers often don't get treated with the same respect. This back of house crew was waiting to see if the new white guy manager was a "make one of the mexicans do it" kind of boss.

Now the truth was, there were going to be times i needed to ask my employees to do things nobody wanted to do, times when i had things to do that only a manager could do and i'd have to delegate difficult or obnoxious tasks. But on this occasion i didn't have any duties that couldn't wait, and i needed them to know something about me.

So i looked at the backroom crew watching me closely (the dishwasher with clear dread on his face) and i asked everybody to help make sure the restaurant ran smoothly for the next 30 minutes so i could go mop and clean the shit-water out of the bathroom.

I was actually really grateful for that sewer back up, because it was the perfect opportunity for me to prove that i was never going to ask anybody to do something i wasn't willing to do, that i'd never make somebody do something just to get out of having to do it myself, and that i didn't consider myself to be better than anybody or above certain kinds of work, which was particularly important to the hispanic crew members.

Sure enough, that was the day the staff there accepted me as a manager and asking people to do things became comfortable.

My first front of house meeting, i took an extra minute with the phone/cashiers. The front counter was staffed almost entirely by high school girls. So i made sure they were aware that if a customer was mean, or creepy, if a customer cussed at them, or said inappropriate things, or yelled at them, they could either hang up or come get me right away. I emphatically told them that putting up with any kind of abuse was not part of their job, and that they could hang up or walk away in the middle of a customer's sentence, and that nobody was allowed to be creepy or mean to them in any way. One of them asked me about wearing make-up and it turned out a previous manager used to tell her she looked "tired" and should "make more of an effort" if she didn't wear make up to work (fucking gross) and i told them all how wrong that was, that not only was their make-up not any of my business but that if any manager in the future said anything like that to them they should either take it to a person with authority over that manager, or consider getting a different job.

My first month there we had to throw out a big batch of sauce because it had been cooled incorrectly (meaning it had a higher risk of microbial growth) and it turned out that kind of food waste was a semi-regular occurrence because, as the day cook exasperatedly explained to me, the other cooks weren't listening to her despite her being our most experienced line cook. Most of the cooks were boys in their early twenties (one was 19) and she had been working there 8 years and i could instantly tell the reason they probably weren't listening to her was because she was a woman. So i immediately went to upper management and told them that to make the restaurant function properly i need to give my most experienced cook a job title that implied authority (and a small raise to go with it) and then went to each of the other cooks and explained that we had been experiencing problems as a direct result of them not taking her seriously and they needed to understand that she was the senior cook in a position of authority over them and they had to do what she told them.

I wasn't a perfect manager. There were a couple times i had to apologize to employees. But that's also an important skill for a person in authority.

It was just SO SATISFYING to actually be able to DO SOMETHING about the kind of workplace injustices i've seen all my working life.

anyway, now that i'm starting my own business, i probably won't wind up with employees to manage, but if i do, i'll be glad of all the years i've spent as an employee learning what makes a bad boss bad, and a good boss good.

tonight my line cook was on his, like, fourth night alone in the kitchen, and out of the two or three people we would have in the pizza section, only the guy who can’t make pizzas showed up (he works the ovens and cut table). I mean we were also short staffed a the front counter, and our dishwasher went home sick. but the main thing was I was the only one who could make pizzas all night, because - oh yeah, the other manager never showed up for his closing shift either. So I was closing manager. What time did I get to work? If you guessed “before the restaurant opened” then buy yourself a treat and call it a prize, because you are a winner Pizza section got hit hard, of course. I can look at categorized sales records, that break out like, if we did 5 thousand in sales, how much of that was sandwiches and how much was salads. And tonight, 44% of our sales were pizzas. That means I personally made 44% of the food that got sold tonight. And we were 45 bucks short AGAIN! but I found it. After a deep dive through the books, I found a ticket from the beginning of the dinner rush that had been paid in as three separate gift card payments but closed out like a single cash payment. Because I’m not just someone who can bang out a few thousand dollars worth of pizzas or make an angry customer happy enough to laugh – I’m also a gods damned accountant; and I am very, very good at my shitty job. Anyway, I worked 26 of the last 36 hours and I’m exhausted.

[lilpunkrock]

where you go (i will go) — part vi

Summary: When your plan doesn’t go as expected, you and the Dream Lord find inspiration in an unexpected place: A wedding. 

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x f!reader

Words: 5.8k+ AN: Thank you all so much for the outpouring of love for parts i-v! I can’t tell you all how grateful I am and just how much I adore each of you. We’ll be adding some time jumps into the story from here on out, but context clues will be provided to keep you all up-to-date on the timeline. Enjoy!

series masterlist // mood board // ao3

. . . 

"Either your head or your heart, 

You set the other on fire."

The Other (stripped), Lauv

. . . 

part vi

“Death, dear, you look terribly exhausted. Has it been a long day? Why don’t you take a rest, yeah? Allow us to take care of this one,” a young feminine voice cooes from within the darkness.

“That’s very generous, Maiden, but I must say, I’m taken aback to see you,” the warm voice, Death, says. “What are you three doing here?”

“We are here for the dawn of a new age. The creation of a new goddess,” a motherly voice explains kindly. “Your brother has plans for this one.”

“Truly, this human fool? To be a goddess? Perhaps Destiny should review that text of his,” an elderly woman rasps, voice full of disdain. 

“Come now, sister-self. You know that Destiny is all-knowing,” the Maiden chastises softly. Her voice is sweet and drips like warm honey as she continues, “And after all, it’s quite romantic. Look at her—even now, she wants him.” 

“Indeed, she does,” the Mother tuts. “Poor dear.” 

“I see,” Death murmurs, her intrigue palpable. “But I’m still confused. Why are you three here, specifically?”

“She is to be our ward,” the Mother says.  “A Goddess of Love, the embodiment of all that is selfless and unconditional. The scales of selfless and selfish desire that your sibling once presided over alone have been unbalanced for far too long, with disastrous effect. We will provide her direction, and she will pave the way for all forms of love among humans to flourish. Such is her fate.”

“Well, I would quite like to see fewer instances of…this. But a goddess balancing scales against an Endless…surely it can’t be so. That hardly seems fair. The power dynamic is too great.”

“Her fate is written in the book of Destiny of the Endless,” the Crone growls, and Death goes quiet. With spite in her voice, the Crone continues,   “If your sibling had not soured and allowed selfishness and vanity to blind them, there would be no need for this. And yet, here we are. But you are right—a deity is beneath the power and authority of an Endless. If our ward is unable to uphold her side of the scale, she will surely perish. Her fate has been spoken.”

For a moment, all is still. And then, there is a feeling of being hollowed out, every last piece of yourself being scooped and scraped and carved. It’s jarring, panic-inducing. You itch to crawl out of your own skin and escape the feeling, but lost in the endless darkness, you’re utterly trapped. Then, suddenly, a new sensation pours into you. A feeling of being refilled. Warmth trickles through you like fire licking at frigid fingers, like rain seeping through new soil. You suck in your first breath of air in what feels like ages. 

When you finally open your eyes, you expect to see four women standing around you. Instead, you only see one—a beautiful, dark-skinned woman with eyes you’re meeting for the second time in your life. “Hello, Love.” 

. . . 

“Are you up for a road trip today?”

Lucienne’s dark eyes widen in surprise from her spot just a few paces away. The two of you have spent the last hour carefully cataloging tomes back into place within the Library of Dreams, relishing in the whisper of rustling pages and the smell of well-loved leather. It only took you a few trips to the Dreaming to notice that the Dream Lord prefers to conduct business with his subjects in the morning so that his afternoons are free for crafting. As such, a new routine has developed for you over the past several days: Grab a coffee from Cliff’s shop, travel with Matthew to the Dreaming, assist Lucienne, pop home to check on Theo midday, then spend the afternoon observing and working with Morpheus. 

After being a solitary being for so long, you’d thought it might be difficult to integrate, to socialize. And yet, you find yourself looking forward to your time in the Dreaming more with each passing day. Your mind warns you to be careful, to not get too close. Your heart is having too much fun to care. 

“A trip, miss? Wherever to?” Lucienne slips the final book she holds into its spot on the shelf, eyeing you curiously from behind her spectacles. 

“I seem to recall a certain someone being interested in visiting another magical library,” you say coyly, quirking one eyebrow at her. “Morpheus will be busy until midday at least. We should go!” 

A quiet chuckle hums in Lucienne’s throat as she dips her chin at you. “I’m not sure, Miss Love. My place is here in the Dreaming. I have never left Lord Morpheus’s Realm. That is Matthew’s job.” 

You shake your head gently, seeking to assuage her concerns. “We don’t have to leave to go to my library. My Realm overlaps all others, like layers of a tapestry.” At Lucienne’s curious expression, you backtrack. “Let me explain… Imagine standing in one room while your friend stands in another. Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t there. My Realm functions in much the same way. It’s even here in the room with us now; you just can’t see it. We can go there without ever technically ‘leaving’ the Dreaming at all.” 

A glint of intrigue sparks in Lucienne’s eyes at your words, and you lean in, pressing harder. Much like the Dream Lord, you’ve noticed that a desire to learn burns brightly within Lucienne. Whether this is a piece of Lord Morpheus himself within her, or her own unique personality trait, you’re unsure. You adore it regardless. “Come on, now, Lucienne. You work so diligently every day. Let’s have a little fun, shall we?” 

Lucienne’s dark lips pinch slightly as she considers your proposition. After a long moment, they ease into a small smile. “Very well, then. I must admit, ever since you spoke of your library, I have been quite eager to see it.” 

A wide grin peels across your face, giddy warmth rising in your cheeks. “Fantastic. All we need is a doorway, then.” 

“A doorway?” Lucienne asks. 

You nod thoughtfully, eyes sweeping the aisles between the bookshelves around you for another member of Dream Country. After a few quiet moments, your ears catch the quiet sound of whistling in the distance. You beckon Lucienne to follow as you weave through the aisles of books, pace quickening as the whistling draws nearer. 

As you round another corner, you spot him: Mervyn Pumpkinhead. The sardonic janitor’s lanky form is crouched beside an empty bookshelf, his left hand guiding a board back into place as his right grips a screwdriver. As a new screw spins into place, his fist thumps against the top of the board. Pleased with its sturdiness, his wide, carved mouth closes into a satisfied smirk. His hands dip into his pockets, emerging with a fresh cigar and lighter, eager to celebrate this small victory.

“Mervyn.” Lucienne’s stern voice cuts through the janitor’s reverie just before he can bring the flame to the end of his cigar. “Do you really think that’s wise? Lighting a cigar in the midst of the universe’s largest supply of kindling?” 

“Oof, sorry, Loosh. Got carried away there,” Mervyn says as he flips the lighter closed, tucking his cigar back into his pocket. He stands hastily, twig fingers patting down the front of his coveralls. “What can I, uh, do to help you two?” 

You smile kindly at Mervyn as you come to a stop just before him, his handkerchief bowtie within arm’s reach. “Lucienne and I were just about to take a little trip. We were hoping you could help us get there.” 

Mervyn’s carved eyes, normally narrow with cynicism, widen slightly in surprise. “Oh, yeah?” he rasps. “Well, uh, sure. What do I need to do?”

“Just stand there and look pretty, Mervyn. That’s all you’ve got to do.” Your hand slips into Lucienne’s swiftly, squeezing once for assurance. As Mervyn opens his mouth to reply, your palm presses flush against his chest. While Mervyn Pumpkinhead may not have a physical heart, you’ve learned through years of experience that all beings have an incorporeal one. Something much greater than a flesh-and-blood organ—their soul. As you connect with this piece of him, reaching out, reaching through, your mind seeks the place you wish to find. Your library. 

You are first greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and the soft creaking of wooden shelves. When you open your eyes, you find that Lucienne has beat you to it. Her studious brown gaze sweeps the room, drinking in the rows of bookshelves illuminated by the golden sun streaming through the skylight ceiling above. Having gone directly from Lucienne’s library to your own, it’s easy to identify their differences. Where Lucienne’s library has several hallways of tables so that all members of the Dreaming may come to sit and read, yours features just one solitary table in the center of the room. Whereas Lucienne’s library features stories upon stories of bookshelves, yours is only a ground floor. From this central reading area, the aisles of bookshelves weave outward, stretching on and on in labyrinth from to the very first book that appeared after your rebirth. 

Suddenly faced with how modest your library is compared to hers, you lick your lips nervously. Your study was certainly no Library of Dreams. It was quaint, simple. It was part of your home. “Welcome, Lucienne,” you murmur softly, “to my library. Where a record of the past, present, and future attachments of every being since my rebirth resides.” 

“Oh, Miss Love,” Lucienne breathes in a hushed whisper. Your heart skips a beat as you await her judgment. “...I love it.” 

“You do?” you say as your nerves fizzle into tentative glee. “Oh, what a relief. It’s definitely not as grand as yours, Lucienne. But I love her all the same.” 

Lucienne chuckles softly. “I imagine it requires a great deal less cleaning than mine, which is no small victory.” Your quiet laughter joins with hers as the two of you begin winding your way through the aisles. Lucienne’s hands ghost over the rows of leather spines, eyes settling on the signposts at the top of each bookshelf. “We use the same archiving system,” she comments.

“Yeah. Seeing how organized your volumes were might have inspired me to do a little reorganizing myself.” You grin. 

Lucienne smiles softly, giving a quiet hmm of appreciation. As her fingers begin to dance across volumes under “L,” her curious gaze finds yours. “Is it possible that I have a book here?” 

You blink, taken aback by her question at first. As you hold her gaze, however, you note the tentativeness there. The nervous curiosity. Her shy interest makes you smile. “Have you ever loved someone in any way? Romantic or platonic? If so, there is a record of it here.” 

Lucienne gives a brief nod, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. You smile in turn, asking no questions. 

As the morning creeps on, the two of you weave your way through the aisles, eyes pouring over the attachments of figures throughout history, renowned and otherwise. As you watch Lucienne flip eagerly through volume upon volume, it suddenly occurs to you that, since your rebirth, no hands have touched these pages but yours. To allow her into this place is to reveal a part of yourself which has never before been seen. 

You’re letting your guard down, the voice in your head chastises bitterly. You’re going to regret that. 

You ignore it. 

. . . 

“It’s not working.”

The slap of your sneakers against the stone floor echoes off the throne room walls as you stalk toward the Dream Lord’s throne. Hearing your approach, Morpheus’s ocean eyes flick up from the large book he is reading halfway up the staircase. You’ve noted before that he seems to prefer the cold stone of the stairs to the formality of his throne, and today is no different. 

As he peers down at you in diluted astonishment, it suddenly occurs to you that perhaps you should have requested a special audience to discuss this matter. Diplomacy has always been a touch-and-go battle for you. In this moment, heart hammering, mind racing, you’re too rattled and flustered to care. 

“What do you mean?” The calm collectedness in Morpheus’s tone makes you want to throttle him. 

“The plan. It’s not working. Or, not as well as I’d hoped,” you huff, coming to a halt just before the first stair. 

Slowly, deliberately, Morpheus closes the text he was reading and lays it beside him. When he rises to his feet, it’s with the grace of a shadow stretching at dusk, a bead of ink leisurely dripping from a saturated quill. “Tell me what happened,” he instructs, clear voice cutting through the chilled air of the throne room. 

You breathe in deeply, seeking to organize your frazzled thoughts. “I’ve been watching the mortals for over a week now. Some of the attachments are going perfectly. Take Cole and Rose, for example. They bumped into each other in the school parking lot five days ago, and their eros attachment went off without a hitch. I think they’re going to the homecoming dance together on Friday.” Morpheus quirks one dark brow at you. Rather than trying to explain what a homecoming dance is to an immortal being from the dawn of time, you shake your head and press on. “I definitely think that what we’re doing is helping. But at least a fifth of the dreamers I’ve been following are still being corrupted by Desire. Just this morning, I watched a philia couple make heart eyes at each other in the grocery store. Just as the attachment was about to take hold, the guy noticed that the cashier was wearing a particularly revealing shirt, and it was all downhill from there.” Winded from your rushed explanation, you draw in another breath. Morpheus eyes you intently, his expression betraying nothing. With a sigh, you add, “Well? Are you going to say anything?”

Morpheus descends the staircase in silence. His slowness to speak, usually something you appreciate, is maddening as you await his answer. You draw in another deep breath, honing in on his footsteps, trying to slow your frenzied heart to match the pace of his gradual descent. Thud, thud, thud.

By the time he comes to stand but a couple of feet away, you feel marginally calmer than before. Marginally. Your eyes flit back and forth between his, seeking answers. 

After a long moment, Morpheus speaks. “It does not sound to me as if your plan is failing. What you are describing is progress.” 

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. “Well, yes, technically. But it’s not enough. Desire is still overpowering my attachments.” 

“You are unlikely to ever defeat my sibling entirely. They are incomprehensibly mischievous, stubborn, and strong-willed.” 

Stubborn and strong-willed. Must be family traits, you think half-heartedly. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re an Endless. Your life doesn’t depend on the work you do.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can reign them back in. Instantly, you regret them. His gaze has a sharper edge now than it did moments ago. As if to say, Watch yourself. 

You sigh. Though the core of your statement is true, you know the sentiment is not. If the past several days have taught you anything, it’s just how much Morpheus does care for his function. His dedication and devotion to his work is evident in every word he speaks, every action he takes, every decision he makes. You extend your hands palm-upward in apology. An olive branch.  “I’m sorry. I’m just…overwhelmed. And scared. Everything I know and love is at risk. The very balance of love and desire in the world is at risk. I can feel them in here.” One hand rises to your chest, settling over your heart. “My scales. I feel them inside me. I know they’re unbalanced. If a fifth of the dreamers we’ve impacted so far are still falling to Desire, then countless more that we haven’t impacted are, too.” You draw one step closer to him, eyes searching his, imploring. “Something has to change.” 

The throne room is silent save for the quiet breathing of Morpheus and yourself. He watches you quietly, eyes clear and blue, pale skin cast in shades of red, blue, and green from the stained glass behind his throne. There’s a slight shift in his jaw, one you’ve noticed arises when he’s striving to choose his words carefully. After a long moment, he murmurs, “For every problem, there is a solution. We will find it.” 

Your eyebrows unknit at his words. We. A spark of hope alights in your chest at the thought of searching for an answer, of finding one. Of not doing it all alone. 

“Now, come.” A wave of Morpheus’s hand pulls you from your thoughts, and you follow behind him as he walks toward the throne room doors. “Let us work first, then strategize. A frantic mind reveals no solutions. ‘What worries you, masters you.’”

John Locke, you think. Or, rather, you suppose you should cite Dream of the Endless, since he was the one who likely inspired the thought in the first place. A tentative smile reaches your lips. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.” 

. . . 

“Alright, Dream Lord, it’s your turn to ask the first question.”

“I still do not understand why I cannot simply ask all my questions at once. It would be much more efficient than this.”

“Because that ruins the intrigue, Dream Lord. And if I don’t have some leverage on you, how am I to be certain that you’ll answer my own questions?” 

“I will answer what I choose to, regardless of the secrets you retain.”

“Touche. But it ups the likelihood that you’ll answer me, at least.” 

Stardust dances in Morpheus’s eyes as he turns to peer down at you. You tilt your head up at him, grinning impishly from where you sit cross-legged on the dock in the Dreaming’s sea. You imagine he has come to expect your playful teasing over the past several days just as you have come to expect his lack thereof. In spite of his aloof front, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, some part of him appreciates the challenge. Perhaps it’s the hint of a gleam you swear you catch in his eye, or something in the way his chin tilts upward at your provocations. You wonder when the last time Dream of the Endless heard phrases such as “no” or “yes, but on one condition…” 

“Why do you live as you do? Like a human in the Waking World. Why have I not heard of you before now?”

“Ah, that’s two questions, Dream Lord.” Morpheus’s eyebrows raise, lips parting slightly, seemingly surprised by his slip-up. As he mutters a muffled, “Apologies,” you smile. “Since you were so kind as to apologize, I’ll answer them both. As for the why—well, old habits die hard, I suppose. I’ve never felt entirely at home in your world. The world of gods and deities, of Endless and angels. I love my job, of course, but it still doesn’t feel quite…real. Sometimes.” Your gaze drops to the water below the dock, seeking the flashes and glimmers of dreams that flicker beneath the waves. “I was one of them once. At the end of the day, I still feel more at home with them.” 

You feel Morpheus shift in the space beside you, imagine his unruly black hair bobbing as he nods. You feel his pensive gaze pin you to the dock. “And my second question?” he rasps.

Now, that one makes you bite your lip. Nibbling nervously, you mull over your answer for a moment. “Well, I’ve been called something of a…hermit.” Desire’s voice rings in your ears, a sour, ugly sound. You swallow thickly. “I suppose I’ve always just sought to…keep to myself.” 

A pause. “You do not strike me as shy, or reserved.” 

You laugh softly, inclining your head to look up at him. “Who said I was shy? I said I preferred to keep to myself. I didn’t say anything about why.” 

Morpheus pauses, lips pursing slightly. “...why?” he finally asks, pressing his luck. 

You feel your heart jump at his question. After so long, the traitorous organ is all too eager to connect, to share. Because it’s easier to avoid getting hurt that way, you want to say. 

But the fear is stronger. Your brain crams the words back down your throat before you can get carried away. You click your tongue in disapproval. “See, now, Morpheus, that’s three questions. And that’s just far too many. It’s my turn.” 

Morpheus opens his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, suddenly, he pauses. You lean forward slightly, watching him. That traitorous voice in your chest whispers, Ask me again. Ask me again, and I’ll tell you everything. Just as you think he’s about to press further, his pink lips close. He dips his head. “So be it. What is your question?” 

You give a contemplative hum, eyes pulling away from him to stare across the waters of the Dreaming. Your gaze settles on the pale wisps of fog, the swirling stardust above, the glittering stars beyond. All is still here. Peaceful. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t enjoyed the past several nights that you’d spent here, crafting dreams of lovers and soulmates with the Dream Lord. In this pocket of time, so far removed from the rest of the world, it was easy to hold your problems at bay. Easy to forget everything else for a while and simply be. 

Your mind briefly wanders over your earlier anxiety, over your present situation. The question for him rises to your lips unbidden. “Do you ever wonder if you’re the right one for your job?” you ask quietly, eyes trained on a cluster of stars gathered high above your heads. 

A beat of silence. “No.” You laugh once, humored and disappointed simultaneously. Of course not. He was an Endless, born out of his very function. Why would he have any reason to wonder? 

You feel a shift beside you and turn your head to find Morpheus hunched over slightly, peering at you more closely. There is the slightest hint of a crease between his brows. “But you do?” he asks softly. 

The quiet voice in the back of your head tells you to change the subject. After all, it’s not too late. But your confession rises in your chest again, burning sharply. Perhaps it would be okay to open up, just a little. To relieve the slightest amount of the pressure inside you. Concentrating on the wrinkle in Morpheus’s brow, you press onward. “With everything going on right now…Desire, my scales…I don’t know. I just can’t help but wonder if perhaps someone else would have been better suited for this role than me.”

Morpheus studies you quietly. His pale blue eyes appear bright and all-knowing, and you suppose they are. You’re surprised by the lack of judgment you find within them. A surprising sense of calm settles over you as you await his response.

In the days you’ve known each other, you’ve quickly learned that Morpheus is not the wishy-washy type. Though your heart aches for validation, you don’t expect it. But after a long pause, he murmurs, “The Fates do not make mistakes. Nor does my brother, Destiny.” Morpheus lifts his chin slightly, and the cosmos of the Dreaming scatter stars in his eyes. “Your divinity was written in my brother’s book for a reason. Perhaps one you have not uncovered yet.”

There is a soft, yet piercing sensation in your chest. One you’re feeling for the second time today. Hope. You suppose it is only logical that he can bring it to light in you. After all, he is the King of Dreams. 

As your gaze drifts to study the star-lit sky in silence, you feel the vaguest of shifts within your chest. When you breathe in the salty sea air, you swear it comes a little easier than before. 

. . . 

Two mornings later, you find him lurking like a shadow amongst the bookshelves in the Library of Dreams. “I have something special in store for us today,” you say with thinly veiled giddiness. 

Morpheus’s eyes linger on the text he’s reading just a moment longer before they flicker to you. “Is that so?” he murmurs, fingers still splayed over the book’s inked pages. 

You smile widely at him as you approach, trailing your fingers over book spines as you go. Your restless nights spent mulling over ways to combat Desire have been largely fruitless thus far, but they feel far from your mind in this moment. Your gratitude for this distraction cannot be overstated. “Yes. Consider yourself a very lucky Endless today, Morpheus. You are about to witness one of the most treasured aspects of my function.” 

The soft thud of the Dream Lord’s book closing echoes off the wooden shelves, bouncing up toward the towering ceilings. “And that is?”

Your smile grows wider still. “A wedding.” 

. . . 

One groaned “Oh, brother, this again?” from Mervyn later, you and the Dream Lord are slipping between the towering trees of British Columbia’s Cathedral Grove. The lush canopy of Douglas and Grand firs, Western Hemlock, and Western Red Cedar overhead is so thick that you can hardly see the rainbow-threaded sky of the Realm of Attachment beyond it. The golden leaves of numerous bigleaf maples burn brightly throughout the forest, the first signs of autumn in a place that is almost perpetually green. 

You smile, hands gliding over huckleberry bushes as you guide Morpheus through the woods. Some of the trees are as wide as cars, some nearly 800-years-old. Some you had watched grow from the time they were saplings. Being in a place so vast and ancient typically leaves you feeling small, humble, and human. As you watch Morpheus drift between the colossal trunks and lush fauna like a shadow, you find that he blends in superbly. 

“You spoke of today as if it was to be quite the occasion,” Morpheus says after several minutes of quiet walking. “Outside of the obvious involvement of love, what is the significance of a wedding to you?”

“How do you feel when you finally see one of your dreamers react to a dream or nightmare you’ve crafted?” you ask in turn. “It’s always nice to see the fruit of your labor. Plus, I like to do a little extra work on days like these.”

As the two of you slip around the base of a massive Grand fir, you find yourselves walking into a small clearing. An intimate gathering of guests sits before you. Their rows of chairs face a wicker arch interwoven with flowers and greenery in shades of burnt orange, blush, and ivory. An aisle draped in a white runner splits the guests in two. Their hushed, excited whispers drift toward you on the breeze, the air humming with excitement.  

“This way, Dream Lord.” You feel compelled to whisper even though the mortals can’t hear you. You beckon him to follow you toward a golden bigleaf maple on the right side of the clearing. “The ceremony’s about to begin.” 

Just as you come to stand beneath the maple’s branches, a hush falls over the crowd. Every head in the clearing seems to turn in unison toward a thick collection of cedar trees at the end of the clearing opposite you. A middle-aged man with graying hair emerges from the treeline dressed in tan trousers, burgundy suspenders, and a white dress shirt. The Bible he carries in his hand as he approaches the altar looks well-loved, brimming with colorful bookmarks. 

The soft sound of a piano instrumental drifts from a small speaker at the edge of the crowd. All watch in contented silence as the procession of wedding party members begins to slowly walk through. The smile on your lips as you observe them is small and tentative. If there’s a dull ache in your chest as they pass—well, you tell yourself it’s just because you’re happy. So, so happy for them. 

As the groom takes his place beside the pastor at the altar, cheeks flushed with nerves and eyes alight with excitement, a new current of enthusiasm ripples through the air. All rise in unison, turning toward the treeline with wide smiles on their faces. And there she is—the bride, escorted by her father who positively beams with pride. A dream in white, she shines radiantly against the rich background of the forest. Your heart swells three sizes when you see her. You know this is your time. 

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur to Morpheus.. As the bride slowly approaches the aisle, you delve into the thick entanglement of attachments connecting the wedding guests together. While their eyes are trained on her, your eyes are trained on them. With a sweep of your hand, you begin plucking at attachments of every color, playing the strings like a harp. You imagine the swell of their hearts as they look upon the bride, the groom, then look at their own partner. You weave nostalgia and reminiscence through the air, shimmering, dazzling. Hands clasp one another, squeezing tightly. Tears are shed, wiped away by the hand of a lover. Memories rise to the surface from a week ago, a year ago, decades ago. When you come across attachments woven alongside black threads, you whisper particularly sweet words to them, grinning triumphantly when they are outshone by their colorful counterparts. 

As you weave your way through the aisles, you can’t help but bask in the glow around you. This right here—this moment, this feeling—is everything. The air around you feels warm and thick, cluttered with attachments, overflowing with love. Your skin positively sings with it. You are alive. 

By the time the bride has reached the altar, you are making your return to Morpheus’s side. His expression is intrigued, thoughtful. You beam at him as you take your place by his side, mind reeling, feeling giddy and breathless. 

The pastor clears his throat, and the crowd quiets. “Beloved friends and family, we are gathered here today…”

You watch in silence as the ceremony proceeds through the opening prayer and message. Your mind never fails to wander on days like these, adrift on a sea of “what ifs” and “if onlys.” Normally, you’re left to muddle through your solemn thoughts and their suffocating aftermath alone. 

But today, you’re not. As your mind starts to drift, a subtle shift of Morpheus’s dark form in your periphery draws you back to the present. Your eyes glide over, sneaking a curious peek at him. He analyzes each member of the crowd equally, attentive gaze taking in each face, each expression intently. His desire to study mortals, to understand them, is palpable in this moment. It’s…endearing. You want to tell him the truth: Mortals hardly even understand themselves. Instead, you let him study as he pleases, unwilling to dampen this show of genuine interest. 

As the pastor concludes his message, your fingertips ghost lightly over the sleeve of Morpheus’s coat, capturing his attention. “This is it. My favorite part,” you whisper. 

You drift to stand at the altar on a breeze. The bride laughs softly as it blows a loose curl of hair into her face. The groom smiles fondly, a thousand unspoken words conveyed in a single curve of his face. His finger reaches out to slip the curl back into place with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. The eros, philia, pragma, and erotoropia attachments between them gleam in shades of red, white, orange, and purple. Your fingers quiver, eager to fulfill them. 

The pastor clears his throat at your side. “Before the exchange of vows, the couple has requested I recite Ruth chapter one, verses sixteen and seventeen…”

Your lips ghost lovingly over the words, cherishing each vowel and consonant, caressing each syllable. “Do not urge me to leave you or to turn back from you.” You strum your fingers across the threads of attachment before you, relishing in the radiant glow they cast on your face. “Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay.” The threads sing as you strum them again. “Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried.” Another strum. “May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.” 

Your eyes lift to look over the glowing attachments before you, across the clearing, to Morpheus. Once intent on studying the wedding attendees, he now looks only at you. You hold his gaze as you walk slowly back across the clearing. The farther you walk from the crowd, the more your adrenaline fades. You smile tentatively at him, suddenly bashful, though you’re not entirely sure what for. You re-take your place by his side in silence. 

Several moments pass before he asks quietly, “You said that is your favorite part. For what reason?”

Your chest aches with something sweet and sorrowful. “What more could one want than to not go through this life alone?” 

The Lord of Dreams gives no response. 

“And now, the bride and groom will exchange vows.” 

You watch as the groom procures a folded piece of paper from his front pocket with trembling fingers. When he raises his gaze to meet his bride’s, it’s as if they are twin stars orbiting one another at the center of the universe. The rest of the clearing and its guests seem to fall away, leaving no one here but them. The groom smiles. 

“Mila,” he starts, voice cracking. His bride giggles, and the groom laughs breathlessly. He  draws in a shuddering breath before pressing onward. “Mila. I can’t believe the day has finally come. When I bumped into you that day in the break room, papers scattering all over the place, coffee spilling absolutely everywhere, I never would have guessed we’d be standing here today.” His gaze flickers upward, and she smiles reassuringly. “Do you remember the first thing you said to me? Because I do. I’ll never forget it…” 

Do you remember the first thing you said to me? Because I do. 

I’ll never forget it. 

Clarity crashes over you like ice water. Adrenaline sends you sucking in a sharp breath. “Morpheus,” you choke, spinning abruptly to meet his blue gaze. “I have an idea.”

[radiowallet]

An Update

Hello Besties!

When I first got back into writing again I was, like a lot of us, stuck at home in an uncertain world with a lot of time on my hands. My job was completely done at home and free time was ample enough that I could churn out a ton of content while also meeting the needs of my job and my family.

That has slowly been shifting in the past few months as my job has required that I be back in a traditional office setting 2 to 3 days a week. With the additional stress of my team shrinking and my responsibilities growing, my free time for writing has started to decrease.

It’s been a little bit of a struggle finding the right balance of writing and reading and enjoying my time offline, and I’m so grateful to all of you that stuck around even when my interaction has been nothing short of terrible. Thank you 🖤

But now comes the exciting part --

I am officially pursuing self-publishing my work.

Writing and sharing stories has been a dream of mine for so so long but the older I got, the more it felt like I had to put that dream on a shelf. My time here, rediscovering my love for words and sharing them, and not to mention how many people I see pursuing AND succeeding at their dreams, has shown me how very very wrong I was.

That being said, Poorly Wired Circuit will be coming down by the end of July. I know and understand that this is frustrating for some, and I debated leaving it up while I worked on re-writes, but the more I sat with it, the more I have realized that I need to allow myself the freedom to let go of Marcus, and make room in my heart for who he, Sarah, and Missy will become.

It is currently cross-posted on AO3 and available to download if you want to keep a copy of Marcus, Sarah, and Missy just as they are. 🖤

I promise I am not walking away from fanfiction or the Pedro fandom. I love fanfic! This community has brought me endless joy and there are still so many stories I want to tell. My fanfic writing may be a little slower around these parts but I'll still be around as much as I can.

I am terrified to take this step, but I am also so so excited! I hope you guys are excited to take it with me. If you want to join me while I stumble through this you can find me on twitter, instagram, and tik tok under catepagewrites. I have also set up a mailing list for anyone that wants updates as I stumble through this process.

Finally, a big thanks to @astroboots @jazzelsaur and @pippki-writes who continue to hype me up even as I battle the dreaded fear of being perceived. I love you all so much! Also a big shout out to @krissology who is out here being a published author with fantastic book (Please, if you haven't go check out Forget Me Not now!) for offering advice to me and encouraging me!

I love you guys so much and thank you for always always being down to clown with me!

[lokiskitten]

Loki Laufeyson | a little miracle

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : After getting banned from Asgard, Loki found shelter in your home. You two easily grew closer as time passed, engaging in a long term relationship without you ever being able to carry his child due to the none-matching genetics. During Christmas Eve, you and the demigod stumble upon an abandoned baby on the steps of your porch.

warnings : mention of nudity and child abandon.

The 24th of December marked a rather cold and ruthless evening. The sun had set low hours ago, which allowed you and your long term love interest to spend a delightful night whilst having dinner nowhere far from the soothing sound and warmth which erupted from the working chimney. Even if he often criticized midgardian food, Loki had made an effort to worship your roasted chicken which in fact resembled what he used to eat every day whenever he still was allowed on the lands of Asgard. The man would often tell you about the nice adventures he had had the pleasure to experience, whilst also verbally exploring the many beauties that carried his homeland.

Of course, you never seemed to get tired of hearing his stories. His arrival in your life had offered you well needed company, especially as you lived far from the city; in a little country house within a low populated village. Besides, he was also the most interesting and intelligent man you ever got to meet. No matter how many bad actions you knew he had committed, your heart still managed to hold a special place for Loki within your chest. Often, you would reassure his anxiety by claiming that everyone deserves another chance. Long story short : you felt overly grateful that he was now here to keep you safe and sound.

After dinner, the two of you had moved to the couch before the chimney, easily getting rid of your clothes and engaging in a never ending cuddle- the type of snuggles that you liked the best : skin to skin. Feeling his warmth against yours made the fire from the chimney appear irrelevant, and the sweet caresses he offered your sensitive body felt better than any silk sheets anyone could ever dream to possess. These kind of moments were never about sex, but always about sharing a special and dedicated contact with the man you had fallen in love with. Surely the two of you often allowed yourselves to spend some sexually pleasurable time together, but those kind of cuddles overcame any of these private intercourses.

His lips collided against yours in a smooth manner, both of your respective eyelids remaining closed as his naked body rested between your legs. You never grew tired of those motions, your organism constantly begging for more and reacting to any touch coming from your partner. His hips rocked against yours just so slightly, the dry humping being part of the overall loving mannerisms. And right now, it was enough to satisfy you. However, an unwelcome detail managed to flash itself back into your mind, pulling you out of the romantic moment you were attempting to spend with Loki. Opening your eyes, you allowed your palms to rest against his shoulders in order to stop him through his motions.

“I forgot to turn off the candle on the porch..” you murmured, earning a tired groan coming from the large man. “I won’t be long.” You affirmed after you had laid a loving kiss on his cheek, watching as the demigod sat up in order to allow you to shift off the couch. Your hand reached out for your sweater and panties, putting both of those pieces of clothing back on before lazily making your way until the front door. Scratching the back of your neck, you finally pushed open the door of your house before taking a step forward in order to be able to put your hand on the candle. However, your foot stumbled upon a foreign mass, easily leading you to step back out of surprise as unhappy cries began to escape the layers of dirty drapes.

Your hand landed against your chest, orbs starring down at the scary sight that you wish wasn’t what you thought it was. However, it undeniably was and remained an abandoned baby resting on your porch. Your first reflex was to seek for any silhouette lurking within the darkness of the snowy night, eyes squinting as you attempted to distinguish the potential parents of this child. “Hello?!” Fear echoed in your voice, though you soon gave up on trying to figure out who had left this child here as you couldn’t tell for how long this poor baby had been laying on your doorstep- which allowed you to jump to the conclusion that those gruesome individuals were probably gone and far by now.

You looked back down at the newborn who now only allowed a few tired whimpers to escape their lips, body crouching down so that your hands would be able to remove the layer of sheet which covered their face. Upon being revealed to the light, a new whine echoed throughout your ears, your empathetic self feeling sorrow invade your organism. You picked up the baby with a lot of care, face still diverted towards their grimacing one right before Loki finally made an apparition behind your silhouette. “What’s taking your so long-“ he began to ask, the smile on his face fading away as soon as you turned around and revealed the child to his bare eyes.

“Where did you find this?” He asked on a tensed tone, visibly not appearing too happy about seeing you carry a foreign toddler. “I found it on our porch. Someone must’ve left him there...” you admitted on a sorrowful tone, looking down at the little piece of sunshine who clearly didn’t deserve to be in the situation they were in. Your empathetic self couldn’t even believe that people still did those kind of things nowadays. It disgusted you to even think of it. “Put it back.” Loki demanded, earning a confused yet absolutely irritated stare coming from you. “Are you mental? I told you I found it right here. Who am I supposed to return this child to?” You answered sadly, feeling more than shocked by your partner’s inappropriate and rude behavior.

Loki looked down at the baby’s face, earning a few gasps from the newborn who kept their eyes closed. No form of care nor empathy seemed to show on the grown man’s face- which once again was a detail that left you speechless. “We can’t leave it there. Poor thing would freeze to death.” You affirmed whilst gently rocking the baby in order to make sure it would stay calm and sleepy. Loki remained silent for a couple of seconds, his mind probably trying to find a good response to your previous statement. “What if.. what if we kept it?” You suddenly offered, looking up at your lover who simply scoffed as a response. “Keep it? This isn’t a fairytail. You can’t just keep a child like this.” Loki answered harshly. Currently, if both of your arms haven’t been required to carry the toddler, the demigod would’ve probably earned a slap across his face.

“You’ll bring him to the authorities tomorrow. Now let’s get inside.” Loki ordered, turning back around as he began to take a few steps forward in order to join the warmth of the house. However, you stopped in front of the doorstep. “Why are you acting like this? This isn’t like you.” You accused sadly, your arms still patiently rocking the child. The truth was, this situation simply reminded Loki of his own past- how Odin had found him abandoned on a rock on Jotunheim. He had suffered due to his new environment mixing up with who he truly was, and didn’t wish to put anyone through the same bother he once had to go through. “Everyone deserves a chance.” You suddenly affirmed, causing the demigod to stop through his track. This statement struck him right through his heart.

Your eyes anxiously stared at his back, waiting for an answer coming from your partner who had decided to behave so harshly. Loki finally ended up turning around, green eyes making contact with yours as he slowly began to make his way back to you. Face to his silence, your anxious self couldn’t help but add a few decisive words. “It’s the child we’ve always wanted. It’s a.. miracle.” You affirmed sadly, feeling tears fill up your orbs at the thought of finally being able to look after a child of your own. Of course, Loki knew how much this topic meant to you, and that even if he had never planned to have children of his own before stumbling upon you and your desires. But in that child, he couldn’t help but see himself.

Patiently, the demigod accepted to take a new look down at the baby who now had their eyes open, a gentle whimper escaping their lips upon making eye contact with the adult male. Loki took the initiative to take the toddler out of your arms, carrying it in his own limbs without ever speaking a word as he made his way towards the chimney. The demigod had began to gently rock the toddler, looking down at them and allowing the baby to toy with his long strands of black locks whilst he patiently sang to them in that beautiful Asgardian language of his. He kept a low tone, making sure not to scare the baby without ever breaking the eye contact he had engaged with the toddler.

Leaning against the entrance of the living room, you finally allowed yourself to smile out of relief face to this soothing sight. This was everything you’ve ever wanted : seeing Loki carry a child, and that even if it wasn’t necessarily yours. No matter where this baby came from, this house would now become his home.

AHHH thank you so much for 1000 followers!!!!! I couldn’t feel more grateful. For the occasion, I had to write something for you guys. It’s different from what y’all probably have the habit to read, but I hope it was enjoyable to read still! Love you and take care!!! Special tag for @seasexnsun who turned out to be my 1000th follower!

[boyd-connors]

He would never admit to it — probably wouldn't even realize he'd been doing it unless someone pointed it out to him — but ever since Nadia came back to town, all Boyd had been doing was pushing for a reaction. The anger was real, and so was the hurt; it wasn't like anything he said was inherently untrue, and he'd say it all again if given the chance to. But like a child pushing back against authority trying to find the line, what he'd always been looking for was if Nadia had a breaking point — a point at which she could actually be human. He hadn't been sure it even existed; after so many years, it seemed easier to believe that he'd just imagined that side of her.

But it looked like he'd finally cracked her enough to show an ounce of vulnerability...

The only reason I'm back is because of her. The tears certainly went a long way towards selling the statement, but her previous words and his shattered trust meant he viewed it all with suspicion. He wanted to believe it, for Mattie's sake, but the stakes were too high if he got it wrong.

Her defensiveness once again put him on edge — that she tried to turn it all back onto him, insinuating he was cold and unfeeling when, if anything, he'd always been too hot and felt too much. Wasn't he allowed to be angry? Wasn't a part of making amends accepting whatever reaction it caused in the other person? He still didn't feel like she'd ever truly acknowledged the damage she'd inflicted. She talked about guilt and how awful it had been for her, and yet, his anger was irrational.

It frustrated him that she came armed with these new excuses, these things he should've known before now, and hurled them at him like he was some dickhead who just didn't listen. "How am I supposed to know any of that?!" he exclaimed, raising his voice for the first time this conversation, grateful he'd planned this for after everyone else had gone home. "You told me you came back here for a job! I'm not making that up — that's what you said. You can't get mad at me for being angry, telling me like I should know things when you've never shown me dick." Nadia talking ASL classes, talking to people in the community — it all felt a little useless when she'd never pushed harder to try to meet her daughter.

"And yeah, you're right — it's been a year. I've gotta be honest and say I didn't expect you to stick around that long — but there's giving us space and then there's avoidance. Before now, I've only ever run into you by chance. I know you Nadia. If you really wanted something, nothing could fucking stop you." He remembered the single-minded way she used to study to exams; if motherhood was truly the goal, she wasn't trying nearly hard enough. "And don't say it's me. I'm allowed to be angry — don't tell me that I'm not. Don't act like I'm some fucking monster you have to be afraid of." He had never done anything to be deserving of that — his only crimes had been loving her and trusting her too much.

She was tired of his boyish anger. Sure, he had every reason to hate her for what she had done, but the venom is tone was growing old. As was his insistence that she was cold and unfeeling and hadn't come back for the right reasons. "The only reason I'm back is because of her," she countered sharply and in utter disbelief. She released a low scoff and shifted in her chair. "I've been the one that's cold and unfeeling? Have you heard anything that you've said, Boyd? Honestly? You've done nothing but yell at me and say terrible things since we ran into each other around that fire. I walked in on you screwing someone in a bathroom and I was still somehow the asshole. I've been learning how to sign and I've been talking to people in the community and I've been giving you space while trying to make an effort and that's still not enough."

Nadia's tone wavered with every word that rolled off her tongue and it sounded as if her voice was going to break at any given moment. It was her own anger, her own heartfelt disappointment and the sheer fact that she no longer felt as if she were the only problem. "I've been here. I've been here for almost a year now and you've spent that entire year being so mad at me. I ran. I screwed up. I... I didn't have a hold on my emotions and I should have tried harder. I should have... I should have figured out how to be a person again, and I'm sorry that I didn't. I am really sorry for that."

Shaky hands drummed against her bouncing knees as her heart thundered against her ribcage. She hadn't noticed the hot tears that now stained her cheeks or the fact that between every word, she was sucking in a harsh breath that made her lungs ache. "I came back for her. I quit my job because I couldn't stand to do it knowing how much it had cost me. You think I'm so cold and unfeeling? I'm not. I never have been and I never will be."

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Meant To Be

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: You are studying to be an FBI profiler with a little over a year left before graduation. When the BAU team shows up in your town for a case you jump at the chance to shadow them for a day. However, things quickly take a turn when you meet Aaron Hotchner, your future boss. And the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. 

Warnings: None! A little dramatic??? This is a purely self indulgent, love at first sight kind of fic so just prepare yourselves. 

Word Count: 4,063

A/N: So I had a mild stroke trying to figure out the timeline for this series so please just don’t look too much into it lol.

MAY 2006

FORT WORTH, TX

It was just barely six in the morning when you pulled into the parking lot of the precinct. Although the sun hadn’t peaked over the horizon yet, you were surprisingly awake. In preparation for the day you had gone to bed at eight the night before which left you well-rested and alert. There was no way you were going to let yourself be off your game. Not today. Of all your classmates, you had certainly progressed the quickest. Due to your high success rate, your professor had authorized you to shadow the team of FBI profilers that were coming to your city for a case. It was an amazing opportunity for someone with a over a year left before graduation so you immediately accepted. Not allowing yourself to make even the slightest mistake, you planned everything down to the last detail in the days leading up to this. Nothing would be able to faze you. With the confidence of a woman who’d been working in this precinct all her life, you strode into the lobby. The receptionist asked for your ID which you quickly displayed. It was only temporary but even so, there was a certain amount of power you felt when she cleared you to continue into the building. After stopping briefly to ask for directions you made your way back to the Police Chief’s office. When he hears your knock, he looks up from his paperwork with a polite smile.

“Well, good morning. What can I help you with?” Clearing your throat, you prepare your most professional voice as you reply.

“My name is Y/N L/N. We met earlier this week. I’m going to be shadowing the team of profilers who are flying in today.” Recognition crosses his features as he makes his way over to shake your hand.

“Of course. I remember. It’s nice to see you again. You’re very punctual. That’s a good skill to hang on to.” You smile in gratitude. “Well, the profilers aren’t here just yet. If you’d like you can wait in here or we can find an empty desk for you.” 

“Actually, I was hoping I could look over the case files. I’d like to be as up-to-date as possible before they arrive.” As he nods, the two of you make your way into the hallway. Towards the back corner of the common workspace is an empty desk that he allows you to sit at. While you put your things down and take a seat he disappears long enough to retrieve a file folder and set it on the desk in front of you. 

“This should be enough information for you to be able to help out. If you’ve got any questions in the meantime, you know where I’m at.” With another polite smile, he leaves you to continue his paperwork. It doesn’t take long for you to read the case file. There had been a conspicuous string of murders in the area, which began about two weeks ago. Four couples were murdered in their homes, all wealthy without children. A list of witnesses and family members had been compiled to make the interview process a little easier. You predicted you’d most likely be helping one of the profilers in questioning the people on this list so you tried your best to memorize the names. 

It seemed like hardly any time had passed when you heard the main doors of the precinct opening to reveal a group of five people walking up to the receptionist’s desk. The sight of them immediately perked you up. It was difficult to make out any individual faces at first but you knew these must be the profilers. As they each scanned their IDs and made their way into the main workspace you quickly gathered your things so that you would be ready to move the moment they were. It didn’t take long for the Chief of Police to reappear, welcoming the profilers and showing them where they could set up their equipment. Every member of the team had a distinctly different look and behavior but they all seemed to work in unison. Even though they’d only been there for five minutes they exuded professionalism and efficiency. As you watched them you had to remind yourself to breathe. You had as much right to be there as them. Admittedly they did have a lot more experience than you but that didn’t change the fact that you’re all on the same team now. 

Waiting patiently, you finish putting the case file back together and fold your hands to rest them on the edge of the desk. When the Chief of Police calls you over you gather up your things and make your way around the various desks to stand next to him. 

“This here is Miss L/N. She’s a student at our local university. She’s gonna be tagging along with you guys today for a little real-world practice.” As he introduces you, you take the opportunity to study the faces of the people in front of you. There is only one you recognize for certain. They all have their attention set on you as well which makes you suddenly very aware of yourself. “Anyway, I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.” With a nod, he turns to speak to you. “If you don’t mind stopping by my office at the end of the day, I’ll get you all checked out alright? In the meantime, have fun I guess.” He adds with a laugh before finally leaving you alone with the others. 

The first one to extend his hand to you is the one person you are familiar with. More than familiar, seeing as he is kind of your hero. You had been the one to initiate the arrangement, having sent him an email a few weeks ago. He had seemed more than willing to let you work with them for the day and he was nothing but helpful, just like you knew he would be. Seeing him now was nearly surreal.

“Y/N, I remember.” He begins, shaking your hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jason Gideon, as you know. Glad to have you on board.” 

“It’s absolutely an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve been a follower of your work since I knew what profiling was. I am so grateful for this opportunity. I am more than ready to help in any way I can.” As you speak, a warm smile lights his face. One of friendliness and hope.

“Of course. I think I speak for my team when I say we’re grateful as well. Not many people in our field get a chance to guide the next generation to a life of helping others. Anything we can do to support you as a future member of our team, we’re happy to do.” This response is entirely heartfelt and shocking to you. Of all the ways you’d imagined this interaction starting, this wasn’t what you had in mind and yet it was exactly what you needed. 

“Thank you, sir.” Was all you could manage as you work to maintain your fading air of professionalism. 

“Well, with that I’ll let everyone do their own introductions.” Almost immediately another man stepped out of line and reached for your hand. He was very conventionally handsome and the way he carried himself told you he knew that he was good-looking. The smile he flashed you was contagious as you shook hands with him.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Agent Derek Morgan and I am very excited to get to know you.” The woman next to him has to pull him away, shooting him a look. She seems very severe and yet when she turns to look at you there is a distinct kindness in her eyes.

“Knock it off Morgan. You’re gonna scare her off before she even gets a chance to meet anyone else.” She says over her shoulder, taking your hand. “I’m Elle. If he keeps bugging you, I’ll be more than happy to rough him up for you.” Morgan holds his hands up defensively when he catches Elle’s eye again before giving you a small wink. 

“Nice to meet you both.” It’s hard to contain your laughter but you manage, giving a small smile instead. Another woman is standing beside Gideon who shakes your hand. She is very beautiful and seems to exude confidence and grace. 

“I’m JJ. I’m the Communications Liaison for the BAU. We spoke briefly last week.” You nod in recognition. She had helped you coordinate the time and place to meet up for the day.  

“Of course. Very nice to meet you in person.” 

“Likewise. We’re excited to be working with you.” She gives you a warm smile which you gladly return before looking to the last person in the small group. He looks to be about your age, very sensibly dressed with a nice posture. There is a slight awkwardness in the way that he shakes your hand but he gives you a quick smile and you can see that he has a hidden friendliness in his demeanor. 

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He says shortly to which you politely nod. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” With that, you turn back to Gideon to ask about your assignment for the day. However, you can’t help but feel like something is missing. “I read through the case file this morning so I can be of use wherever I’m needed. Did you have an assignment in mind or will I be moving around throughout the day?” 

“I think it would be beneficial for you to work with SSA Hotchner. He should be here any minute.” That’s what was missing. Hotchner. You had heard his name before but you didn’t know much about him. As you waited for him to arrive, Gideon began delegating tasks to each of the other members. Despite not being given a task yet you listened intently until the front doors of the precinct opened. 

However you had pictured Hotchner, the man that walked through that door was the furthest thing from what you expected. The sight of him striding in from the lobby made your breath catch in your throat. There was an innate power in the way that he moved. So much purpose and intensity. His eyes were dark and they found your face almost immediately. It was enough to make you squirm but you maintained your composure. Gideon turned to greet him before gesturing back towards you. “This is Y/N L/N. She’s a student who is here to shadow the team for the day.” 

With the slightest hesitation, you extended your hand toward him. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a moment as he shook your hand. 

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner. It’s very nice to meet you.” He spoke with a clear sense of professionalism. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m looking forward to working with you. I have a feeling I’m going to learn a lot from this experience.” 

“I hope so. It was very smart of you to seize this opportunity. It does not come around often. Soak up everything you can today and I’m sure it will bring you a lot of success in the future.” You listen to him intently, nodding with a small smile. 

“Hotch, would you mind if she rides along with you today? We’ve got a list of witnesses we need to speak to and I think it would be good for her to get out in the field rather than being stuck here doing paperwork.” Gideon interjects, looking to both of you as he proposes the idea. Hotchner looks around the precinct briefly for the other team members before giving Gideon his attention again.

“Of course. Do I need to brief her on the case?” 

“Actually, I already familiarized myself with the case file before you all got here this morning.” You interrupt before Gideon can respond, causing both the men to look at you. “Sir.” You add, clearing your throat. They both share a knowing look. 

“Perfect,” Hotchner replied, with a respectful nod. Satisfied with the interaction, Gideon dismissed himself to begin his work leaving the two of you alone. “Give me a few minutes to speak with the Chief of Police and then we can get started. Would you mind waiting out front for me?” You nod eagerly which prompts him to walk back toward the Chief’s office. Once he has disappeared around the corner you make your way to the front of the building, stepping through the main doors. The cool morning air brings with it a sweet wave of relief. You hadn’t realized how hot you were until you had stepped outside. Nerves were already building up in your system when you were being introduced to the rest of the team but meeting Hotchner had tipped you over the edge. There was no denying that he was a very handsome man. The evidence was in the blush that was surely covering your face. Mentally scolding yourself you take a deep breath. You were a professional and you would act as such. No matter how deeply moved you felt when he looked into your eyes like that. 

A few minutes later Hotchner made his way through the front doors causing you to stand at attention. Moving briskly, you followed him into the parking lot and pulled yourself into the passenger seat of the dark SUV he had just unlocked. He remained silent as he began typing an address into the GPS before pulling out of the parking lot. Once you were on the road he looked over at you briefly.

“How much do you know about questioning witnesses?” He began.

“Quite a bit. I’m only about a year away from graduation so I have a fairly advanced understanding of a wide variety of concepts that pertain to profiling.” Watching the GPS, he nods. Feeling a tinge of awkwardness, you allow your eyes to stay focused on your lap.

“Good. Any real-world experience?” 

“Unfortunately no. In my courses, we do simulate certain scenarios fairly often but there isn’t much opportunity for real application.” 

“Well the best advice I can give for today is to stay quiet and watch me. If I need you to speak up, I will tell you as much. Otherwise, don’t say anything. It isn’t that I distrust you. It would just be irresponsible of me to allow someone with zero field experience to question the victim’s friends and family during some of the most difficult times of their lives. Especially without having seen what they’re capable of beforehand. I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh absolutely. I completely understand. I know that I’m here in more of an observational capacity today. And even if I wasn’t, you’re the boss. No explanation necessary.” Hotchner is quiet for a moment. If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with avoiding eye contact, you would have seen the remnants of a smile on his face.

“I should have you talk to the rest of the team. They could learn a thing or two from you.” This causes you to laugh lightly. 

When you finally do decide to look at him the sight steals your breath yet again. He is bathed in the golden light of the rising sun and he seems almost ethereal. You can see a flash of his deep brown eyes which seemed very soft now in the glow of the sun. As though he could feel you looking at him he turns to meet your eyes although this time you don’t look away. The two of you sit there in what seems like the most eternal moment, dancing in and out of each other before he breaks away to look back at the road. For a moment you could almost swear you saw something there in his eyes, something almost like longing. It must have just been a trick of the light. 

“So, what made you decide to be a profiler?” The moment is over as quickly as it began as he speaks up. 

“Well, I’ve always had a deep fascination with the human psyche. Finding out what makes people tick. Picking apart their personalities, their behaviors. Growing up that almost felt like the only way to understand the kids around me. By studying them. Every friendship I had felt like a science project. When I found out that I could use that ability to be part of something bigger than myself, to make the world just a little brighter ... well, it was really a no-brainer.” 

“That’s very ... noble and, honestly, very uplifting to hear. With this job, you experience a lot more bad days than you do good. Sometimes it is hard to remember why we started doing this in the first place. It’s people like you that remind me this job is worth it. Hang on to those beliefs. They’ll help keep you sane, I can promise you that.” With a nod, you give him a kind smile.

“I will. I promise.” It isn’t much longer before you arrive at the first house. The interview is fairly straightforward. You stay close by Hotchner’s side as he introduces the both of you. Once you’re inside you sit quietly as he begins asking questions, merely listening and taking mental notes of the way he conducts himself. It is over fairly quickly and then you’re both back in the SUV and off to your next destination. The next two interviews are the same. On the third, he lets you ask a few routine questions. It is a simple gesture but you are very grateful for the experience and you handle yourself very well. 

Your final interview is with the parents of the latest male victim. When Hotchner knocks on the door, it takes a minute for it to open. Standing on the other side is an older man with a tired expression. 

“Yes? What is it?” The man says briskly. Hotchner pulls out his badge.

“I am SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI. This is Miss Y/N L/N. May we come in?” Hearing the term FBI causes the man’s expression to darken rather quickly as he looks between the two of you.

“Where’s your badge?” He questions, nodding in your direction. Remaining silent, you share a look with Hotchner. After a second of thought he gives you a small nod of approval.

“I’m not actually an FBI agent yet, sir. I’m a criminology student at the local university. I’m shadowing Agent Hotchner today as a learning opportunity before getting out in the field myself.” 

“A learning opportunity?” It takes the man almost no time to answer and you can hear a significant shift in his voice. “You’re using my son’s death as a learning opportunity?” 

“You misunderstand--” Hotchner begins in your defense before you quickly cut him off with your own response.

“Sir, I can’t begin to fathom what you’re going through. But I can promise you that my lack of experience is entirely made up for by my desire to see the person who did this to your son pay for it. It doesn’t take training to see that your son deserves justice for his death.” The man is silent but keeps his eyes locked on yours. 

“My wife and I have already told the police everything we know.” 

“We know, sir. It will only take a few moments of your time and anything you can tell us might be crucial in finding your son’s killer.” 

“No. No, we’ve already talked about this more than any parent should ever have to. If it’s that important go ask the police what we said.”

“Please, sir--” Before he can finish, the man smacks the door frame.

“It took the deaths of eight innocent people for you to swoop in and save the day. You really think I want to waste a second of my time speaking with you? I have nothing more to say. Now get out of here.” With that, Hotchner nods before turning to leave which prompts you to quickly follow. As you get near the SUV you are startled by the sound of the man’s door being slammed shut. Once inside you release the breath that had been caught in your chest. When you look over at Hotchner his expression shows a deadly calmness and you are suddenly struck by the idea that he must be pissed at you.

“I’m so sorry. That was all my fault. I upset him. I shouldn’t have said anything to him. I should have just kept my mouth shut like you told me to. I had no right to do that. I’m sorry.” The crushing weight of embarrassment and guilt settled over you. This morning you had felt more than ready but now it seemed like the day had been filled with challenges you couldn’t possibly have prepared for. In only a few hours you had managed to show your boss that you are completely incompetent. You ready yourself for what must surely be his wrath however when he turns towards you his expression shifts from one of unwavering calm to gentle kindness.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. What you said was perfect, it’s exactly what I would have said. You were establishing a rapport with him to gain his trust. You did the right thing. Believe me, it wasn’t you. There is nothing either of us could have said that would have gotten a different result.” When he sees that you are still wary he shifts in his seat to face you more directly. “As a future member of my team, you have my trust. You handled yourself very impressively today. You’re going to make a very fine addition to the BAU.” 

His words ease your anxious mind as you nod quietly. Soon after Hotchner is pulling back out onto the street to take you both back to the police precinct. After a minute of silence he glances over at you.

“So ... are you still sure you want to do this?” The question catches you off-guard but it takes you no time at all to answer.

“More than anything.” This time you do catch the faint smile that crosses his lips which causes you to give a small smile in return.

“Good.” Is all he says for the rest of the ride back to the precinct.

The day is over much more quickly than you had hoped for. When you step back into the police building you make a beeline for the chief’s office, remembering his request that you find him again at the end of the day. You return your temporary ID and he fills out a form for your professor to verify your activity for the day. Once the formalities are over he bids you a good evening and shows you back out to the main workspace. The team all gather briefly to say their goodbyes as well. You thank Gideon profusely for allowing you to join them before shaking hands with the rest of the team members. As you make your way to the exit you see Hotchner standing near the main doors. 

“Thank you so much for letting me tag along today. I really learned a lot.” As you say this you extend your hand which he quickly takes. 

“Absolutely. It was a pleasure working with you and I look forward to seeing you again in a few years. In the meantime, here’s my card.” He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out his business card which he hands to you. “If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call.” Tucking the card safely into your pocket you thank him with a smile before heading out the main doors to your car. 

Once inside you pull the card out of your pocket and sit for a minute, staring at it. Unable to control yourself you let a giddy smile paint your face. After the day you had, a year has never seemed longer. The anticipation of your future at the BAU looms over you but rather than filling you with nerves it brings you hope and excitement for the things to come. Opening a small compartment on your dash, you tuck the business card away before heading home to get a good night’s sleep filled with wonderful dreams.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester​

[butterflybuckethat]

Green Dress

Author's Note: Hello! This is my first time posting my writing but I thought it would be fun so lmk what you think :)

Summary: Anthony x Fem!reader; It has been a long time since you were back in the company of Bridgerton's, since before Edmund passed, but it's your first London season and your mother insists on your making the most advantageous match possible. You have your sights set on Prince Friedrich of Prussia; now, only if you could ignore the little flip in your stomach whenever the Viscount looks at you. (1.3k words)

"Get me out of this dress." You barked at the maid, frustrated with your lack of success at removing it yourself which just left you twisted and displaying much more cleavage than appropriate. She jumped into action, swiftly undoing buttons. "The prince's favorite color is green, not blue." you exasperated, "That horrid Cressida Cowper is spreading lies; not that I should be surprised."

Some minutes later, you emerged from your guest room in an emerald green dress, after thanking and apologizing to the maid for being short. It was not the first ball of the season but it was the most important because you were going to snag the Prince. You hurried down the stairs, able to see Eloise's look of impatience from miles away, and took Anthony's arm as he led you out to the carriage. "I rather liked the blue dress." You looked up at him, a little smile on his face but otherwise a largely indifferent expression. "Well, it was not for you." You couldn't resist being a little cheeky. He didn't always take it so well but you lived for the moments he huffed and puffed up his chest. Besides, it seemed to loosen him up a bit. You took his hand as he helped you into the carriage, sitting across from his mother. "Pity." He replied, looking so much the devil, and he turned his back to you as you stared, or rather gaped, until the carriage began to move.

Violet Bridgerton was rather happy to sit across from you on the way to the ball. She remembered when you were young and used to pick up your skirts and run over to Aubrey Hall just to tease and prod Anthony until he relented and allowed you to play with him and his brothers. Now you were grown up, all hair and cheekbones, and she was grateful because she hadn't seen her son exhale in what felt like decades, but a couple days with you and he seemed to be having fun again.

The ball was in full swing when you arrived, packed with people dressed in their best gowns and jewels waiting to catch a glimpse of the Prince. And there, in the middle of the action, was Cressida dressed in green and sporting a scowl the moment she saw you, similarly dressed in green. It wasn't much of a secret that you set your sights for marriage high. Your mama was famously ambitious and why wouldn't she be; you were a true diamond and more than happy to carry out her wishes. You grabbed Daphne's hand to take a turn about the room. She followed you but appeared distracted, probably searching for the Duke. You knew that something was going on but she liked to keep her cards rather close to the vest and you figured she would tell you when she was ready.

Anthony watched you giggle with his sister across the ballroom. His eyes followed you about the room, only half listening to what his brothers had to say. He said he preferred you in the blue but secretly thought you looked rather fetching in the green as well. It made your skin glow. "Anthony..." Benedict placed his hand on his shoulder. "Hm?" He was still distracted, unable to completely let go of you, but did take a swig of his brother's flask when Benedict offered. You looked so different than he remembered. Granted, the last time he saw you was when you were ten years old with dirty slippers and mud on your nose. But now...but now all he wanted to do was trail his fingers along your neck.

He was shocked out of his daydreams by a loud crash. A woman in purple swooned and took an indelicate fall to the floor. The Prince was here. Penelope made a particularly scathing comment causing Colin to giggle. But Anthony was following the Prince's gaze straight to you which etched what felt like a permanent scowl onto his face before crossing the ballroom.

After sneaking a glimpse at the Prince, and deciding he was rather nice looking with his blonde curls and doe eyes, you returned to your conversation with Eloise. He was looking at you, you were sure of it, and you expended a great deal of energy keeping the sly smile off your face. "He's coming!" Eloise whispered, tapping at your wrist. You were introduced to him and took a particularly deep curtsy. "It's an honor to meet you, your Majesty." you said soft enough so the Prince had to lean in a little to hear you. "The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure." he kissed your hand. Someone cleared their throat behind you, "I believe this is our dance, my lady." It was Anthony holding out his hand out to you. "Oh" was all you were able to say. "If you will excuse us." Anthony said to the Prince and dragged you to the dance floor. You were only able to shoot him an apologetic glance before Anthony placed a hand on the small of your back and the waltz commenced. "That was incredibly rude." you had half a mind to step on his foot, especially when he said nothing. "You know how important this is. How important this is to my mother." Your whispering was bordering on shrieking at this point, growing more and more frustrated. If Anthony wasn't holding your hand you would have jabbed your finger into his chest. "I am an only child and it is my duty to marry as well as I possibly can and I cannot have you distracting me-" Anthony looked at you then, his dark eyes on fire. Words caught in your throat and you became very aware of his arms around you and his palm burning into your back. You just stared into each other's eyes until the music stopped. "I am distracting?" He bowed and stepped away, leaving you, shocked, in the middle of the dance floor. If you could blush, you would surely be a deep red.

Anthony was taking heavy breaths. He could not hear anything but his heart pounding in his ears; he needed air. Anthony made a beeline for the double french doors that led out to the garden and undid the top of his collar. The night was cool and his breathing seemed to slow. His hands just stopped shaking when he was yanked under a stone archway. "What was that all about?" you said pushing him back against the wall. He let out a grunt. "I do not know-" "Stop." you looked wrecked but he imagined he did as well. You let out a laugh, "Why am I even here? I am sure Cressida is all over Prince Friedrich by now. And I followed you out into the garden." You froze, "I followed you out into the garden. I have to go back." You turned and repeated your last sentence. But Anthony grabbed your wrist and you looked back at him, finally taking in how defeated he appeared. "I am sorry." he said and you went back into the ballroom. It was too short of a time for anyone to suspect any impropriety, you assured yourself, and went back to stand next to Eloise. "What has happened?" She asked looking sincerely disconcerted, probably more because she truly did not know what was going on than how it looked. "I do not know." and you meant it.

You didn't see Anthony the rest of the night. Benedict said that he had left but you still searched around the room every once in and a while, searching him out. "Lady Y/LN, would you care to dance?" It was your second dance with the Prince. You heard one of the mamas say it was "truly a feat;" but back in the carriage, heading home as the sun peeked out over the horizon, all you could say when Violet Bridgerton asked you about the night was "I wish I wore blue."

Part II

[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

[moonbeamwritings]

the three times you kiss jotaro’s forehead + the one time he returns the favor

Summary: Jotaro didn’t find himself to be an overly affectionate man, accepting it reluctantly and dishing it out rarely. With you, though, he might as well be putty in your hands.

Author’s Note: This fic is dedicated to the lovely @jostepherjoestar​ who listened to me babble on about this idea. I’m also still working to chip away at requests, so keep an eye out! I hope y’all enjoy !!

!! slight tw for descriptions of nightmares/blood/mental health issues and spoiler warning for part 3 !!

Jotaro was certainly no stranger to affection. His mother’s goodbye smooches, pressed to his cheek while he ducked to meet her halfway; The way his grandfather would ruffle his hair the moment his hat was off his head; The girls from high school, desperately clinging to his arms and coat, making him squirm in discomfort under their hungry gazes.

And yours.

Your affection, so minimal and subtle in its delivery, never failed to make his heart race, to make his face heat up in slight embarrassment. You kept your public displays minimal, straying away from kisses and hugs in favor of wrapping your hand around his or keeping close to his side, arms brushing against one another.

At home, though, you held back less, never shying away from kissing his cheek or wrapping your arms around his waist, nuzzling against his back.

He never thought he’d be one for affection. Hell, he barely knew how to return the favor, but here you were, showing him you cared through such small, intimate acts.

i.

His computer monitor burned his eyes as his fingers danced along the keyboard in front of him, clock ticking away to punctuate the silence of his home office. The files spread out across his desk acted as a constant reminder of the deadline for his research paper. Jotaro sighed.

You, on the other hand, were out in the living room to give Jotaro the time and space he needed to get his work done. Your heart tugged as you looked at the time.

12:43 AM

The movie credits rolled on the television in front of you and you decided to take your leave, finally ready to wrap yourself in your comforter and drift off to sleep for the night.

On your way to bed, you saw the light from his office drift out into the hallway, casting oblong shadows onto the walls. Stopping to stand in the doorway, you admired your boyfriend’s form, quietly tapping away at his computer.

Without sparing you a glance he asked, “Heading to bed?”

You smiled as you stepped into the room, coming around his desk to hug him from behind. “Mhm, you?”

Jotaro quickly shook his head, pulling a hand away from his work to hold one of your forearms in his grasp, “Not yet. Sorry.”

You hummed, rolling your eyes. “You work far too hard, ocean man.”

He nearly groaned at the little nickname.

“But I’m tired.” You continued. “G’night, love you.”

“Love you.”

Hearing his reply, you hunched farther over his shoulder to plant warm, chaste kisses to his temple. Once, twice.

“Don’t stay up too late.”

You knew that telling him that would ultimately fall on deaf ears, but hey, you could dream couldn’t you?

He listened to your footsteps pad down towards the bedroom as his face warmed, reinvigorated by the soft kisses you pressed to his forehead.

ii. 

Jotaro appreciated you, so much so that sometimes it made his heart burst. He was bad at expressing it to you, either verbally or physically, but god did he love you.

Jotaro’s day at work had been… less than stellar, to say the very least. The data his lab had been collecting hadn’t been saved correctly, thus setting the lab back by a whole week, another researcher had practically berated his methodology in front of their colleagues, and to top the whole thing off, someone had spilled coffee all over the front of his favorite white coat.

In short, everything sucked.

His head hung low, hat having already been flung off when he began to drive home. His coat was at the cleaners, leaving him in his simple, black turtleneck.

Kicking off his shoes and dropping his bag in its usual place, Jotaro was quick to rest back against the couch, stretching his limbs out as he placed his head against the armrest.

“Baby? That you?”

Baby. The pet name made a ghost of a smile appear on Jotaro’s lips.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He called back, slinging an arm up to cover his eyes.

When you saw the state Jotaro was in, splayed out on the couch like a dead man, you frowned.

“Bad day, big guy?”

“Really bad.” His response was short, a grumbled mess hidden behind the sleeve of his sweater. As you made your way over, leaning down to hover above his tired form, all you wanted to do was wrap him up in your arms, shielding him from whatever weight was on his shoulders.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, not right now.”

Jotaro was a man of few words, but it especially made your heart ache when you could so plainly see how upset he was. You watched as he shifted his arm away from his eyes, gazing up at you, “Sorry.”

Closing the distance, you hunched lower to leave one, gentle smooch right in the center of his forehead, cradling his cheeks in your hands. The feeling of your soft lips against his forehead eased the tension between his brows, lifting the weight from his shoulders. It was as if your mere presence made his heart that much lighter. He was beyond grateful.

“It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll get it out of you one of these days. You hungry?”

Jotaro’s stomach growled in lieu of a verbal response.

You laughed. “Come on, handsome, I tried making one of your mom’s recipes.”

Maybe this day could be salvaged, Jotaro thought as your fingers came to twine with his.

iii. 

He saw Kakyoin, Avdol, and Iggy often, but no, not in the way that you’d think.

They haunted him. Dreams, nightmares filled with nothing but blood, gore, and the whirring roar of sirens. Their voices were often warped, both far away and so, so close that Jotaro felt as though he would go deaf. Accusatory fingers pointing in his direction as they leered, hurling insults his way. Your fault, selfish, fuck up. You could’ve saved us.

On this particular night, Jotaro was visited by DIO himself, descending his grand staircase with bodies littered behind him as blood raced down the steps.

DIO sneered as he hovered near Jotaro’s ear, whispering pure toxicity into it and trying as he might, Jotaro couldn’t land a single punch.

He was rocked off his feet as DIO kicked him away, knocking the wind from Jotaro’s chest as he toppled to the floor. DIO crouched before him, smirk more and more evident as his voice rose to a thunder. 

“It’s your fault, you know? How truly pathetic.”

Just as DIO reached out to grip Jotaro’s chin in his hand, Jotaro shot awake.

His breathing was labored as he moved to sit up, chest heaving as hot, wet tears began falling down his cheeks. Without realizing it, Jotaro had jostled the bed under his weight, waking you up as well.

“Jotaro? Baby, what’s wrong?”

You sat up next to him as you placed a warm hand against his back, rubbing it in soothing circles. He leaned over, curling against your side to rest his head on your shoulder.

“A nightmare, that’s all.” He replied once he found his voice, keeping his eyes closed as he willed his heart to slow.

“What can I do?”

“Don’t leave.”

The solution was simple enough, given you had no intention of doing anything of the sort. You didn’t think you’d ever heard his voice sound quite so small. Smiling despite the situation, you responded, “I think I can do that.”

This time, the kisses you planted against his forehead conveyed everything you wanted to say. I love you. You’re important. I’m not going anywhere.

The messages blossomed in his head, overgrowing and covering the images of DIO and blood, obscuring the anxiety and dread that found a home there. He allowed himself to be lulled back to sleep, comforted by your lips and your warmth against his skin.

i. 

Jotaro could tell you’d had a bad day the moment you stepped into his office. As he watched you frown while lingering in the doorway, his mind raced through all the ways you’d comforted him in the past.

Kind words. Soft touches. Forehead kisses.

“Bad day?” He asked, trying to emulate the tone of voice you typically used with him, hoping to convey even a fraction of the gentle, calming lilt you often gifted him with.

All you could do was nod.

“What are you waiting for then? Come here.”

He waved you over, pushing his desk chair out so you could slide into his lap, legs resting on either side of his hips as you tucked your face into the crook of his neck. Jotaro let a quiet moment pass as he relished in the warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your shampoo.

His movements were awkward as he began moving a hand against your back, smoothing circles into the fabric of your shirt. He was out of his element, you both knew it, but it was exactly what you needed.

“Wanna talk?”

He felt you shake your head against his neck. Letting out a quiet hum, he pulled away from you slightly. As you looked up at him, eyebrows creased in confusion, Jotaro left a warm, loving kiss against your forehead.

Your head returned to his neck moments later and he was quick to rest his hand against the back of your head.

He may not always know what to do, but if nothing else, Jotaro loved you. Plain and simple.

[even-after-a-millennia]

So Much in a Word

This fic is to fill the prompt for @yusufalkaysanibingo​ a different meeting for Joe and Nicky! You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here.

Joe-centric fic with Joe/Nicky | Rated M | ~5.4k words

Yusuf al-Kaysani was fifteen when his future was foretold.

He was in the farmer’s market with his mother, picking up ingredients for a herb mix to help his father’s cough when a hand shot out from between the stalls and clamped down on his arm.  He yelped and spun around to face the person who had grabbed him.

The woman’s face was made of wrinkles but her eyes were clear as she stared at him.  She sighed, her hand gentling on his arm, her thumb rubbing the soft skin near his elbow.

“Poor boy,” she murmured.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asked, worried for her and for himself.  He could feel the power surrounding the woman.  He glanced at his mother, who was watching the exchange with narrowed eyes, though she didn’t step in.  She could probably feel the importance of this interaction, her own ability to see moments of change flaring.

“My dear one,” the old woman continued, and Yusuf’s attention snapped back to her, “you will live a life blessed with love.  You will find the man who will uplift you and support you no matter the adversity.  And you will bring him ruination.”

Yusuf froze, staring at her.

No.

No, it couldn’t be true.

He couldn’t even focus on the fact that he was destined to love a man, something he had suspected of himself for some time, but that he would be the one to ruin him?

Impossible.

The woman’s hand retracted, but he flung a hand out and clung to her fingers. 

“Please, please take those words back.  I cannot- I will not,” he stuttered, desperate.  

“Oh, habibi,” she murmured, her free hand coming up to stroke his cheek.  “I know.  My gift can be the opposite, and to give such a radiant soul such news is not easy.  Remember my words, Yusuf.  For you are blessed and cursed and only those words will set you free.”

Yusuf blinked, and she was gone.

���Yusuf?” his mother asked, her dark brown eyes full of concern.

“I’m sorry, Mom.  Can I leave you to collect the rest of the ingredients as I go home?” he asked through numb lips.

“Of course, my love.  I’ll be back soon,” she said, pushing him homeward.

He walked home in a daze, but the second his foot crossed the threshold of his home, he snapped to attention.

No.

He would not do it.

Not if he could help it.

And he could.

He went to the family’s workroom and found it blessedly empty.  Going to the table strewn with ingredients, a pestle and mortar, and more books and pieces of parchment than he could easily count, he began pulling materials towards him, going on instinct alone.  He had been practicing magic under his parents’ tutelage since he was a toddler.  He had watched his father create tinctures and weave his ability to heal into charms, had seen his mother make decisions before the moment had arrived, her ability to see changes around her allowing her to avert burns and arguments, save money and receive more.  But he had not only been taught by them, but also by his teachers at school, learning the basics and, more recently, more advanced techniques of everyday magic that didn’t require a special ability to achieve.

While he might not know his ability yet, he knew enough how to make a talisman.  He just hoped it would be enough.

He wove his magic into the strands of the bracelet and put the ingredients he needed into the charm that would hang from it.  While he had seen his father chant incantations as he crafted talismans, he couldn’t bring himself to speak, his heart in his throat.  All he could do was hope, and say in his head, “Please don’t let me hurt him, please don’t let me hurt him, please don’t let me hurt him,” repeatedly.  He knew he was using too much of his magic, darkness starting to creep into the corners of his vision, but he pushed everything that he had into the bracelet.

Even as he faded into the dark, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret his actions.

It was worth it to save him.

His mother returned from the market twenty minutes later to find Yusuf unconscious in the workroom, the completed talisman clutched in his hand.

She sighed, because though she had seen this coming, it was no easier to have her vision actualized.  Prying his hand open, she wrapped the bracelet around his wrist and fastened the clasp.

Yusuf stirred, his eyes blearily looking up at his mother.  His head flopped to the side and he saw the bracelet around his wrist.

He smiled.  It was weak, but it was there, and it broke his mother’s heart.

“I did it,” he whispered triumphantly.

Then he once more fell unconscious.

_________________________________________

Joe was engrossed in his book as the train trundled along the track, rocking him side to side in his seat.  He was soothed by the gentle movement, grateful for it’s relaxing motion.  Friday’s were his longest day on campus, with three different lectures and office hours, and he was exhausted.

He had never seen himself becoming a professor when he was young.  But when he had been prophesied to ruin his soulmate, he threw himself into magical study.  There was so much to learn and he wanted to know all of it, in the off chance that something would be able to change his fate.  It had turned out that he was a quick learner and that he had a knack with teaching others his findings.

He had a way with words.  He could never put his personal power in a better way.  Nothing else pinned down the nuances of how he could use words to pin down a point, educate succinctly, highlight how he was feeling.

But no matter how much he thought of the prophecy that changed his life, he couldn’t find a way to change their meaning.  To change what would happen should he find his soulmate.

So in the meantime, his talisman rested against his pulse point, reassuring him.

Fifteen-year-old Yusuf hadn’t known what he was doing when he had created it, but apparently, he had done it well.  At age thirty-three, he had yet to meet his soulmate.  Or more likely, given the charm, he had and would never know it.

That was the charm's ability.  It blocked him off from his soulmate.  Joe could pass him in the street, their eyes could meet, and they would pass each other as strangers.

It was better that way.

He felt the tug in his chest that sometimes bothered him, letting out an involuntary flinch before he rubbed the area absently as he read on.  The pains had become more frequent as time went on, which he chalked up to his body rejecting the effects of the spell upon him.  It wasn’t natural to work against his soul’s call, but he would rather deal with random pains than the agony of ruining his soulmate.

“Scusa, are you alright?” a quiet voice asked him.

“Hm?” Joe hummed, pulling himself from his book to look at the man who had addressed him.  The man had sandy brown hair and multi-colored eyes Joe couldn’t pinpoint from the distance, with a beauty mark on the right side of his face, near his jawline.  He was looking at Joe with concern.

“Are you alright?  You seemed pained,” the man said again.  He had an accent that Joe thought might come from a romantic language.  Perhaps Italian?

Joe blinked, finally focusing.  “Oh, apologies.  It’s nothing, just a reverb of a spell long ago.  Can’t be helped,” he said with a reassuring smile.

The man frowned.  “Do you like chocolate?” he asked abruptly.

“Yes?” Joe asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I make foods, infused with health and well wishes, if you would have one.  The chocolates are all I have on me at the moment.  It could help relieve your pain,” the man said.  He started rummaging in his bag.

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t know how efficient they would be on me.  It’s an ongoing issue, you see,” Joe said.  In the past, he had tried many ways to help curb the side effects of his talisman, but none had helped.  He had gotten to the point when he would be irritated with the person offering a seemingly effective cure for his ills.  But for some reason, that irritation wasn’t present now.

How odd.

“Ah.  There is nothing that can be done?” the man asked.  He didn’t have that pitying look on his face that many did when they heard that, just one that was understanding and somewhat resigned.

“I’m afraid not,” Joe said with a little shrug.  “I appreciate the gesture, however.  I’m Yusuf, by the way.  You can call me Joe, if you like.”

“Nicolò, though many of my colleagues call me Nicky,” the man replied.

“Pleasure to meet you, Nicky,” Joe said, reaching across the aisle to hold out a hand.

Nicky shook it and withdrew.

“Is that book good?” Nicky asked, gesturing to the book Joe had been reading.  “I have seen it many times, but not read it myself.”

“I’m enjoying it.  The author has a way of immersing the audience into the book, making you forget your surroundings, as you saw.  I’ve taken to only reading it when seated.  I wonder if that is their ability.  They certainly chose the right profession if so!” Joe said with a laugh.

“I’ll have to pick it up the next time I come across it,” Nicky said.

“I would recommend it.  So what do you do?” Joe asked.

“I run a remedial bakery and restaurant.  There are many who need healing, so I am baking and cooking most of the day to feed those that come to me, as well as sending my goods across the world.  There never seems to be enough time,” he finished quietly, almost to himself.

It was then that Joe noticed the dark circles below Nicky’s eyes.  

“Hey,” Joe said gently, leaning forward and looking Nicky in the eye.  “Every single person you help is one less person who is in pain.  There will be more, but don’t discount the work you have done.  It is enough.”

He could feel his power flowing through him, and saw Nicky blink.

This time, Nicky put a hand on his chest.  He looked down startled.  “What- how did you do that?”

“What is that?” Joe asked.

“I…  It suddenly feels like it is easier to breathe.  How did you do that?”

Joe relaxed.  He had been worried that what he’d said had hurt the man.  “I just used the right words, I guess.  And you seem like the kind of person to carry the hurts of others around with you, long after they are gone.  Was I right?”

Nicky regarded him.  “Have you eaten?” he asked Joe.

“Not yet,” Joe replied, taking his non-answer as an answer.

“Would you like to eat with me?”

Joe smiled, somewhat relieved that he had not offended Nicky with his observation.  “Yes, I would like that.”

He was intrigued by this man, whose heart was pierced by the pain of strangers and whose eyes were the color of a tumultuous ocean.  He could enjoy getting to know him more.

Joe was always ready to make new friends.

They ended up at a Thai restaurant that was close to Joe’s place.

Once they were seated, Nicky turned to Joe.  “I forgot to ask, what is it you do?”

Joe smiled.  “I’m a professor, specializing in the intricacies of magical intent and their outcomes.”

Nicky blinked.  Joe was used to that reaction when he said his profession.  It wasn’t a common one.  In fact, he had been offered so many positions when he had graduated with his doctorate that he had needed to phone his mother for advice on which school to choose.

Having a mother who could see the possibilities of choices had been a blessing throughout the years.

He hadn’t regretted his choice yet.

“I did not know you could get a doctorate in that,” Nicky finally said.

“Well,” Joe said, trying to not appear too proud, but sometimes it was hard to not let himself feel his accomplishments, “before me, no one had.  Not precisely, anyways.”

Nicky blinked again.  Then his slight frown cleared and he gave Joe a small smile.  “That’s very impressive,” he said.

Joe felt himself flush, then cursed at himself for it.  He knew it was, but it was different to hear it from Nicky.

Nicky sat forward, his elbows splayed and hands clasped on the table.  “Tell me more?” he asked.

Joe felt a little stunned at the request.  Usually on the dates he had gone on with people who were fine with casual dating, no soulmates required, they hadn’t been interested in the finer details of what he had spent years, decades at this point of his life, learning and honing.  

He cleared his throat, then began.  He kept talking even as their food arrived and then spoke between bites.  Nicky asked attentive questions, focusing in on details that Joe had glossed over because that would be another ten minute long explanation.  Joe kept checking him for signs that he was bored with what Joe was saying, but Nicky was leaning in, nodding along in places, the corner of his mouth quirking when Joe mentioned some of his failed experiments.  His eyes rarely left Joe’s face and Joe found himself stuttering more as he described his studies to Nicky than he had since his first year of teaching.

“And after this conversation, you could probably get at least a Master’s in the theory of magical intention and conclusions,” Joe said jokingly as he finished.

Nicky hummed, taking a spoonful of his soup with a pensive look on his face.  “I think that I could use some of those principles in my cooking and baking, to expedite the process.  You may have just saved me a lot of effort with that talk, professor,” he said with a smile.

Joe smiled back, trying to cover how flustered he felt.  “Of that, I’m glad.”

They finished eating soon after and Nicky insisted on taking the check.  “I need to pay you for your lecture somehow, sì?” he asked.

Joe laughed.  “I’ll allow it.”

They walked outside, pulling their jackets closer as a cold wind blew down the street.  Joe saw Nicky shiver and found himself asking before he had really thought it through, “Would you like to come back to mine for a cup of coffee?  It’ll warm us up and we could continue talking.”

Nicky looked at Joe and he felt like he was being scrutinized.  This man’s full attention was a powerful thing in itself, let alone his strong shoulders and angular jaw.

He suddenly felt awkward for asking.  There were certain protocols for interacting with other people that were usually based around how much someone cared about saving themselves for their soulmate or not.  There were those who wouldn’t be in a relationship until they felt that connection, the spark of their soul connecting with another.  There were others who didn’t care to wait and didn’t.  And then there was Joe.  Who was deliberately avoiding his soulmate.

But no one but his parents knew what the charm on his wrist was for, so he usually was put into the second category by people who met him.  Which was fair, he’d had casual relationships and flings with people before.  

He wasn’t really asking for anything from Nicky here, though.  He didn’t know how to say that without it becoming more awkward.

“I could drink some coffee,” Nicky said finally.

Joe relaxed.

They walked the blocks to Joe’s small house side by side, their shoulders knocking together here and there.  Their surroundings changed from the small stores and restaurants to a residential area.  They continued on until finally Joe stopped at a wooden gate.

“This one is mine,” he said softly.

He didn’t know why, but he wanted Nicky to like his home.

Joe watched as Nicky looked at the small house with its garden overflowing with plants for ingredients and random nick nacks that he couldn’t help but buy.  The house itself wasn’t big, only one story, with sand colored stone siding.  There were stained glass pieces hanging in the window, catching the rays of the sunset.

“Oh, Joe,” Nicky breathed, looking at it all.  “It’s wonderful.”

Joe felt that same embarrassed pride from before.  He knew that, he did, but it was just.  Different.  Hearing it from Nicky.

Joe waved his hand, unlocking the wards protecting his house, and opened the gate.  “Come on in.”

Nicky stepped through behind Joe and followed him up the path, stopping to look at the windchimes hanging from the roof.  Pieces of sea glass sparkled in the glow of the sun and the chimes rang as another cold breeze rustled past them.

Joe opened his front door and Sable’s black face and yellow-green eyes met him before she ran to her scratching post and began to claw at it to show her joy he was home.

Then his cat saw there was company and froze, then lowered herself to the floor.  

“It’s okay, little one.  This is Nicky,” Joe said, taking off his shoes and gesturing to his companion.  “He’s a friend.”

Sable wasn’t convinced and scooted across the room towards his bedroom.

Joe turned to Nicky.  “Sorry about that.  She has a hard time with newcomers.”

Nicky shrugged.  “I won’t take it personally.  I am in her space, after all.”

Joe smiled at him.  Not everyone handled Sable’s aversion to people as well, and Joe appreciated it.

The coat rack took their jackets and they stood there a moment, Nicky looking around Joe’s home.  Joe didn’t adhere to any particular style, unless comfortable counted.  His couch was overstuffed, with colorful pillows adorning it and soft blankets draped over the back for quick use.  He had many pieces of art hung on the wall, some of which he had done himself.  His desk in the corner of the room was cluttered at best and disorganized at worst.  But altogether, it was his home.

“Alright, coffee,” he said once Nicky had looked his fill.  The hallways had more art, as well as pictures of family and friends, hung on the wall.  Nicky looked at them but didn’t stop as they made their way to the kitchen.

Joe reached into a cabinet and pulled out his Moka pot.  Nicky grinned at him.

“Why do I feel like I just passed some test?” Joe joked.

“You did,” Nicky replied, his eyes sparkling.  “Top marks, professor.”

Joe gestured to one of the chairs, which pulled itself away from the table.  He was glad of the fact he had to turn his back to Nicky to get the coffee going.  His face felt very warm.  “Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Nicky said as he sat.  “I wanted to ask, what was your pull to learn more of magical intention?  It seems like such a niche subject, based on what you told me.  There must be a reason.”

Staring at the brewing coffee, Joe contemplated whether it was worth telling Nicky.  He kept the prophecy to himself.  Not even his friends knew the truth behind why he hadn’t found his soulmate yet.  And yet, he found himself opening his mouth.

“Do you remember that spell I said had repercussions to this day?” Joe asked.

“Sì.”

“When I was fifteen,” Joe said, keeping his eyes on the pot, “it was foretold that I would be blessed with love.  And I have been.  My parents have been wonderful and supportive throughout my entire life.  I have many friends who lighten my days, colleagues who make me feel valued, and students who appreciate my work to educate them.”

He sighed.

“I was prophesied to have a soulmate who would be with me through adversity and uplift me through life.  And I would bring him ruination,” he said, his voice going flat and cold at the last sentence.

The house rumbled around them, the floorboards creaking and the windchime growing louder as it shifted more violently.

Joe took a deep breath and let it out and as he did so, the house settled.  It had accepted him as its owner and was therefore connected to him.  When feeling a strong emotion, he could expect some kind of reaction from the house.

Pouring the finished coffee, he brought the cups to the table and set one before Nicky, not looking at him.  

“I went home and created a talisman.  I was fifteen, knowledgeable but not enough.  But I had belief.  And desperation.  So I poured everything I had into creating it, so that I may never hurt him.”  He took a sip of his coffee, much too soon, and grimaced as it burnt his tongue.  

His free hand was clenched with nerves.  Lifting his fist, he showed Nicky his adorned wrist.  “So far, it’s worked.”

Finally, he lifted his head to look at Nicky.

And met eyes filled with tears.

“Joe… you are a very kind man,” Nicky said, his voice rough.

Joe snorted.  “It was a no win situation.  I did what I could.”

“No,” Nicky said, reaching out and placing a hand over Joe’s as it held his cup.  “You succeeded.  At great personal cost.  I assume there were aftereffects?”

Joe hummed in affirmation.  “Random chest pains.  More frequent as time goes on.”  He smiled grimly, his eyes tearing up.  “I think my heart is rejecting being blinded from its companion.  I don’t know how much longer-”  He cut off, already saying too much.  He hadn’t even told his parents what he had just revealed to Nicky.

He had known that there would be repercussions to cutting himself off from his soulmate.

He just hadn’t known at the age of fifteen that he would be slowly killing himself.

“Oh, Joe.”  Nicky stood, and stepped closely to him.  “Can I hold you?” he asked hesitantly.  

At Joe’s nod, Nicky’s arms came around his shoulders and neck, cocooning him.  Joe wrapped his arms around Nicky’s stomach and buried his face into his chest.  Letting out a shaky breath, Joe felt a lot of the stress from this damning secret leak out of him as he melted into Nicky’s embrace.

Nicky pressed his cheek into the curls on the top of Joe’s head, then tilted his head up so they could look at each other.  “I can help.  Maybe my ability could mitigate the effects.  Give you more time.”

Joe considered.  He had surrendered himself to the inevitable, he realized as hope bloomed in his chest.  He could have more time.

“I… I would like to try,” he said.

Nicky smiled, a small and fragile thing.  But Joe found himself answering it with a smile of his own.

He hadn’t felt as safe as he did, protected from the world by Nicky’s arms and body, in a very long time.  Probably since he was fifteen, moments before being grabbed in that marketplace.

Yes, they barely knew each other.  But Joe felt a connection to this man, unlike anything that he had felt before.  And Joe had just laid out his ultimate truth before Nicky and he had met it unflinchingly.  Not only that, but he wanted to help.

As their smiles faded, neither of them looked away.  Nicky’s arms released Joe until his hands were cradling the back of Joe’s neck.  Slowly, Joe rose, his hands lowering from Nicky’s back to his hips.

He leaned in and whispered, “Is this okay?”

“That depends,” Nicky said, and Joe could feel his breath against his lips.  “What is this?”

Joe thought.  “Connection?” he said finally.

“Ah.  Well, then yes.  It is okay,” Nicky murmured, pulling Joe in with the hands on his neck.

Joe’s eyes slid shut the moment that their lips connected.  

At first, it was just a gentle press of lips, hands resting on neck and hips.  Then Nicky tilted his head a bit more to the side and nipped at Joe’s lower lip.  Joe let out a shuddering exhale and leaned further into the kiss.  They languidly explored each other’s mouths as their hands began to wander.  Joe’s hands slid up Nicky’s spine to feel his back muscles move under his hands.

Then Nicky’s hands reached Joe’s ass and he squeezed as he pulled Joe in, pressing their lower bodies together.

Their kiss broke as they both exhaled shakily at the sensation.

“Bedroom?” Joe whispered, wanting to make sure they were on the same page.

Nicky nodded, his nose brushing against Joe’s as he did so.

Joe smiled, taking Nicky’s hand and a step back.  Nicky followed close behind him, a wall of warmth at his back.

There was no sign of Sable as they entered the bedroom, but Joe left the door open in case she needed to exit while he was otherwise preoccupied.  

“Would you sit?” Joe asked Nicky when they reached the bed.

Nicky did, and Joe stepped into the space between his legs.  He caressed Nicky’s cheek, his neck extending as he looked up at Joe.  Joe was unable to resist ducking his head and pressing a kiss against the skin there, just below his beauty mark.  The hum Nicky let out urged him to continue and Joe pressed kiss after kiss into Nicky’s neck.  He reached the taut line of muscle on the right side of his throat and sunk his teeth into it.

Nicky’s hands tightened against his hips and he let out a shaky breath.

Joe released him and stepped away a moment to push Nicky’s legs together, before sitting on his lap.  Nicky met him with a kiss that stole the breath from Joe’s lungs.

He felt Nicky’s fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt and he regretfully pulled back so that he could be divested of it.  While they were parted, he pulled Nicky’s shirt up and over his head as well.  

Pausing, he took in all the new skin that had been laid bare.

Nicky was strong, but his muscle wasn’t defined like Joe’s was.  Joe enjoyed going to the gym in the mornings after Fajr, whereas Nicky’s strength seemed to come from working in a kitchen, kneading dough and lifting boxes.  A casual strength, rather than a deliberate one.

Joe’s hands slid up Nicky’s arms, over his shoulders, and down his chest.  He could feel Nicky’s hands on his exposed back, feeling his shoulder blades.  Joe pushed gently on Nicky’s chest and he lay back on the bed, Joe following him down until they were pressed together from their lips to their toes.

They tried to keep as much contact as they could while taking off their pants and underwear, which made it somewhat awkward.  After Joe’s elbow found Nicky’s side, making him give out an “oof,” their eyes met and they began to laugh together.

Then there were no clothes between them and the laughter left them.

After, Nicky flopped off the top of Joe and let out a breathless huff.  

“Mother of God, Joe, I think you ruined me,” he groaned.

Joe froze.  “What did you just say?” he demanded, post coital bliss abandoned at the sound of that word.

Nicky cocked his head and repeated, “You rui- oh, Joe, I’m sorry.  That was a horrible choice of words.”

No matter how much he thought of the prophecy that changed his life, he couldn’t find a way to change their meaning.

For you are blessed and cursed and only those words will set you free.

It couldn’t be… could it?

“Nicky,” Joe said urgently.  “When I was told the prophecy, the woman said that only the words would set me free.  I have been trying to think of other meanings behind the words for over half my life.  You don’t think-  I mean, could it?”

Nicky’s eyes were wide as he stared at Joe.

“I, I don’t know.  It would be wonderful if you weren’t to ruin your soulmate in the traditional sense, but who knows what the intent of the prophecy was?”

“Nicolò,” Joe said, raising a hand to caress his cheek.  “You do realize that in this scenario, you would be my soulmate, right?”

Nicky stared at him, then he shot upright, his hand holding Joe’s to his face.  “How could we know?”

“Well…” Joe said, his gaze falling to the wrist with the talisman around it.  It was on the arm that Nicky held, and slowly, Nicky relaxed his hold until their hands lay clasped between them.

“Nicky, if I’m wrong and the word rings true, but you really are my-” Joe couldn’t even finish the sentence, overwhelmed at the implications behind it.

Nicky’s free hand cupped the back of Joe’s neck and pressed their foreheads together.

“Then we will face it together,” he whispered fiercely.  “Whatever may come next.  I’ve been looking for you a long time.  My soul doesn’t wish to be parted from yours any longer.”

Joe’s chest throbbed and he winced.  Nicky must have felt his flinch, because he tightened his grip on Joe, as if by holding him close, he could protect him from any pain.

“My heart, my soul, my very being wants to be with you so badly that it pains me.  But… I’m afraid.  I will not survive being apart from you, Nicky, but I couldn’t if I destroy you either,” Joe admitted.

“Yusuf,” Nicky said, his eyes shining.  He lifted their hands and pressed a kiss to Joe’s knuckles.  “You are worth it.”

Joe’s eyes were so clouded with tears that he had to feel for the clasp of his bracelet.  Nicky’s hand stopped him.

“May I?” he asked.

Joe blinked, and his vision cleared slightly as tears began to roll down his cheeks.  He reached up and pulled Nicky into a slow, soft kiss before he rested his forehead against his.

“A man who will uplift me and support me no matter the adversity,” Joe whispered into the small space between them.  “I could ask for nothing else.”

He felt Nicky let go of his hand, then his fingers against his wrist.

Joe closed his eyes.

Nicky undid the clasp and pulled the bracelet free.

And still, Joe could not open his eyes.

“Whenever you are ready, Yusuf,” Nicky murmured.

Uplifting.  Supporting.  Nicolò.

Joe took in a breath, pulled back from their forehead touch, and opened his eyes.

His breath froze in his lungs.

He had known this man before this moment, he knew that.  He had seen that beauty mark, those eyes, those shoulders.  He had felt Nicky’s skin against his own.  

But it all felt new.

This, this was the moment that stories were made of.  The first contact between soulmates, when the connection snapped into place.  The moment that said that this, this person, was significant.  Vital.  

“Nicolò…” he breathed, reaching out and stopping just before he made contact with his face.  

Nicky closed the last hairsbreadth of space between them and Joe felt an ache in his chest, totally different from that which he had felt when cutting himself off from Nicky.  His soulmate.  It was a feeling of relief, a loosening of a band long wrapped around his chest, until he felt like he had taken deep, filling breath for the first time in eighteen years.

“Hello Yusuf,” Nicky said, smiling at him, his cheek resting in Joe’s palm.

“Hello Nicolò,” Yusuf murmured.  He let his thumb caress the line of Nicky’s cheekbone.  “I have not breathed so easily in nearly twenty years.”

“I’m glad of your relief.”

“I’m glad that it’s you,” Joe countered.  They weren’t arguing, but it needed to be said.  “You, who wanted to help a stranger in pain.  You, who has already uplifted and supported me, before we knew we were connected.  You,” he continued, his voice turning softer but his free hand started to slide up Nicky’s thigh, “whose kiss thrills me and whose body I wish to learn like my own.  I am so blessed, Nicolò, that it is you.”

Their lips met once more and every brush, every touch of their hands, every thrust felt like a revelation.

Like a curse made into a blessing.

Like being set free.

_________________________________________

“Ya Allah!” Joe exclaimed later, shooting upright in bed.   “How am I going to tell my parents how we got around the prophecy?!”