#I’m probably going to stop putting these text stuff in the main tags to avoid me cluttering everything alabdknd

[bootleg-sara]

Yonking more rambles from Twitter. This time it’s Judass and Cain

(Context: Someone was asking tboi twt their lore reason why Cain had an eyepatch)

His eye holds a curse Lucifer and Apollyon gave him after he killed Abel. Other parts of his body has it too, but his eye is the most obvious. He also bashed out this eye himself in grief of his sin. He hides his curse to avoid accidentally hurting others with it. His proper “Mark of Cain” is on his arms (an acid burn to remind him of his murder). Which other than a stark reminder, doesn’t hold any extra effects on it like the one Apollyon and Lucifer gave him. He also willingly had his right leg amputated before medicine of any kind was available. Cain has a crazy high pain tolerance

(Context for Judas: Same person, now asking tboi twt what people’s Judas interpretations relationship was with satanism and the occult)

Funnily enough, my Judas has almost no connect to satanic worship. He hates everything Angelic or Demonic. Wanting to hunt down each and every one. His choice of red and black clothing is just a personal choice. The BoB is something he uses to control and entrap powerful entities. While hating spirits, he studies them very intensely to learn their weaknesses. Learning about magic to use their skills against them. The only ones he likes are the archangels for putting all the angels of Eden into eternal punishment. He also thinks God is cool for sending them.

Judas doesn’t really like magic, but has accepted it as apart of himself to use for “good”. He doesn’t even know why he has magic, old earth humans aren’t supposed to have any. It developed suddenly one day after the death of his father. But he made it his vow to use it to eliminate all angels and demons for the sake of mankind. The existence of Satan is not confirmed in his eyes, but he knows he’d hate them if he did ever find him. His vast knowledge of occult-like things stems from a desire to tear it apart. Basically all of the Serpentes (the family Judas is apart of) don’t like angels or demons that much. The garden of eden did not treat them kindly. Though Judas takes this mentality the farthest by far. His hatred runs deeper than anything else in his blood.

His entire family was mistreated in the garden of Eden by angels who viewed them as lesser. The tipping poing was his father being murdered by them. Though Judas is also a super dramatic individual and took the situation to an extreme it didn’t need to go to. He’s a bit of a baby

[miyagihawk]

i don’t even know you anymore pt. 2 | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

part one

a/n: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so here it is!! some hawk redemption :)))

warnings: a bit of swearing, mentions of violence maybe

summary: after your bad breakup with hawk, he wants a second chance

word count: 1,547

It’s been months after you and Hawk split, and you could confidently say that you’ve moved on.

It wasn’t easy; his group kept ruthlessly attacking your friends. It was like he wanted to make your life a living hell.

After that horrible fight at Golf N Stuff, watching Demetri’s arm get broken compelled you to join Miyagi Do. You never wanted to feel helpless again when your friends are in trouble.

Karate helped you move on. You became confident with yourself and instead of focusing on your break up, your mind was on self improvement. Seeing Hawk stoop down to his lowest level also helped; you wanted to be better than him.

“What... the hell?” you gasped.

As your friends arrived at your lunch table, they looked like they got trampled by a zoo. They almost looked unrecognizable with the amount of bruises and cuts decorating their faces.

Sitting down painfully, Sam said, “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Well tell me! What happened last night, you guys look insane! Are you okay?” you exclaimed, worried and protective about your friends. They all looked so worn down, not meeting your eyes.

Last night, Miguel and Sam were planning on inviting both Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang over to “combine forces” against Cobra Kai. But you felt sick, so you couldn’t make it.

Your mouth fell slightly open as another person came up to the table.

Him.

What is he doing here?

No one was answering you, but you couldn’t blame them, they probably had the worst night.

Ignoring Hawk’s gaze on you, you got up from your seat and walked around the table to Miguel. You grabbed his arm and he winced. “Sorry,” you apologized, leading him out of the cafeteria into the hallway.

“Miguel can you just tell me what happened last night, who did this to you? And why is he here? I couldn’t make it one time and this happened, god, you couldn’t have texted me or someth-”

“Y/N, Y/N please calm down,” Miguel placed his hands on your shoulders, and it was only then you realized how hard you were breathing.

“Look at you. Look at everyone,” you felt your eyes tearing up. You were angry and frustrated, at yourself for not being there. Maybe you couldn’t have done much, but you still could’ve helped.

“Hey, I’m okay, alright? Everyone’s fine, just relax,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “Cobra Kai came last night.”

“What? To Sam’s house? How did they even-”

Miguel cut you off before you could ramble again, “I don’t know. But they showed up and it was like the school fight part two. Don’t worry though, they look pretty bad too. And we won,” he smiled.

“So why is... he... with us?” You looked over his shoulder through the cafeteria entrance where Hawk sit awkwardly with your friends, looking out of place.

“He helped us Y/N. I know things between you guys didn’t go down so well but I do believe he wants to change,” Miguel explained.

You tried to imagine Hawk fighting alongside Sam and Demetri, but it felt wrong. He’s done too much damage and you don’t think you can forgive him for any of it. How could they forgive him?

“Look, I lost Eli to Hawk too. I was friends with both of them. So I know that he’s being genuine. He wants to be better,” Miguel tried to convince you, leading you back to the cafeteria with him. “He also still cares about you, Y/N. I think you were the main reason he left Cobra Kai.”

You didn’t say anything, you just pondered on his words.

Could that be true? Hawk still cares about you? Then why did he put you through all this? Why now would he leave Cobra Kai for you when you aren’t even together?

You sat back down at the table, head hurting from all the questions you want the answer to.

There he was, sitting across from you. The only one who could really give you the answers. But you acted like he wasn’t there.

-

The first practice with Miyagi Do, Eagle Fang, and a tiny bit of Cobra Kai had just been dismissed. It ended early because it started raining, and you were all outside.

It went well. It definitely felt good to have a full team and that one less rivalry was gone.

But there was still a lot of awkward tension between you and Hawk. You guys had carefully avoided each other; you were never less than 5 feet apart and when you accidentally made eye contact, you both looked away in a millesecond. 

You said goodbye to your friends, putting up your hood over your head to prepare for your wet walk home.

You didn’t mind the rain, you actually loved it. But despite the Valley being known for its good weather, the winters were still harsh and frigid.

You hugged yourself with your arms as shivers shook your body. The sound of a car pulling up made you turn around; your first thought being that someone might kidnap you.

But the red car was familiar and you refrained from running away. The window was rolled down and Hawk’s face was revealed. “Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m walking home,” you say bluntly, and start continuing your walk. His car follows beside you, matching your pace.

“It’s cold as shit. Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” Hawk offered.

“No thanks,” you said, not even looking at him.

As you quickened your stride, you heard his car engine turn off and his door open then shut.

He caught up to you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking. “Get in the car,” he demanded, and you just rolled your eyes.

“Why would I get in the car with you?” You laughed mockingly and he swallowed. Raindrops were falling on his eyelashes and he looked pretty, but you shook away the thought.

“Fuck, why are you so difficult. You’ll get sick, just come on,” he pulled you towards him, then without thinking your karate reflexes kick in and you hit him in the chest.

You almost feel bad, but he steps back, with an almost proud and amused smile. He thought it was cute.

“Why do you care?!” you raised your voice over the rain.

“Y/N I-”

“Why? You didn’t care for all of these months! Why now? You didn’t care when I wanted you to stop hurting people, why do you want to change now?” You bombarded him with all the questions that have been swirling around in your thoughts for days.

“I did care! I do care. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. Just please get in the car and we’ll talk about it,” Hawk pleaded, reaching out for you again, but you pull your arm away. His jaw clenched from your rejection.

“And I still loved you! Through it all! You broke Demetri’s arm, one of my best friends. He was your best friend too! And I still missed you! Do you know how horrible that feels?” you continued letting out your anger. All of the things you’ve wanted to say to him are spilling out of your mouth and you don’t even notice your tears.

His eyes were starting to brim with tears too, but you couldn’t tell if it was just the rain.

“I am sorry Y/N. For everything. I’ve never stopped fucking loving you and I missed you too. Like hell. I can’t take back what I did to Demetri but I’m trying, I’m trying to fix it,” he confessed, moving in closer to you.

“You’re a liar...” you hit him in the chest, but he didn’t budge. “You can’t say that... that you love me, you’re just a huge fucking liar!”

Before you could hit him again, he stopped your hands and put his arms around you. At first you tried to squirm out of his embrace, but eventually you gave in, letting out full sobs of heartbreak.

You missed this. His warmth and his soft skin. The way he rests his chin on the top of your head and how he rubs your back to soothe you. You hated the way you were just giving in, but you didn’t have it in yourself to pull away.

“You were right about all of it. I wasn’t myself,” he murmured into your hair. He missed holding you too, and he wondered how he went so long without doing so.

You looked up at him with your glassy eyes. His hair was drooping down from the mohawk because of the rain and he looked more like Eli.

The rain was still pouring down on both of you, but you had gotten used to it. Still in his arms, you were no longer shivering from the cold.

You lifted a hand up to place on his cheek, and you admire the kind blue eyes you’ve missed looking into.

You pushed your previous anger away and pressed your lips against his, revelling in the feeling of reuniting with your lover. You missed him so much. You got butterflies as you two moved together perfectly and he smiled against your lips.

“I never stopped loving you too, Eli.”

okay here’s a tag list for the people who wanted a part 2 :))) thank you so much for reading and feel free to send in any requests!

@rosiahills22 @sinicalh4wk @lina-lovebug @rudypankow-whore @miyagifang @blvxktvmmx @lulu-yuming @melinda-hargreeves @emmyboo019 @lllyyysss02

[thatmultifandomhoe]

It’s You

Pairing: Changkyun and Reader

Group: Monsta X

Word Count: 7,433

Genre/Rating: Valentine’s Day AU - Quarantine AU - Friends to Lovers AU - Fluff - Angst - PG-13

Overview: The last thing you planned to do was celebrate Valentine’s Day. Being single on a holiday that glorified love, especially during a pandemic, was the perfect sign to stay at home to guarantee avoiding having a broken heart. Especially when Changkyun, the one who held it, seemed to have plans of his own.

Warning: Mention of past unrequited love and having a broken heart - swearing -

A/N: Happy - early - Valentine’s Day sweet peas! And yes, Changkyun from Monsta X was the winner of the “Who Do You Want to Spend Valentine’s day With,” and I had so much fun working on this piece. I’m personally not a fan of the holiday - for reasons you’ll read below - but I hope that those of y’all who do celebrate have a happy Valentine’s day, and I hope that y’all enjoy this piece and get all the chocolate that you want this year!

Tagging: @srvdyv​​  @skyys-universe​​ @kpophoneybunny​​ @wheein-whanders​​ @ezralia-writes​

Music Playlist:

Main Master List:

Pinterest Mood Board:

The First Installment of the Hoe Catalog.

©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

“Are you okay?”

Glancing over at the cell phone that was propped up on the dresser, you raised an eyebrow at the black screen. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You do know what day it is, right?”

Fingers pausing, you pressed your lips together, staring down at the button of the black jeans you had been in the middle of putting on. You had known what day it was when you went to turn off the alarm that had set for that morning. It had been painfully obvious, and as the pre-recorded song of birds chirping increased in volume, you had stared at the date for longer than you normally do.

February fourteenth.

Valentine’s Day.

“I’ve only been awake for an hour,” you said, stepping towards the closet for a shirt. It had been a miracle that Changkyun had called instead of his preferred method of randomly video calling. While it was true, you had been up for an hour, you had only started moving about to get on with the day about five minutes ago. And currently you were only wearing pants and a black lacy bra. Although, knowing him, he wouldn’t have complained.

There was rustling on his end and the clinking of a spoon hitting a glass. “I know, but I just wanted to make sure. You seemed pretty upset the other day.”

“It’s not that I’m upset…” You slipped your head through the hole of a black smocked square blouse with red flowers printed on it, adjusting the top so it sat properly. “I just...don’t like the holiday.”

Which was putting it mildly. It was more than a dislike, but as you went to look in the mirror to make sure there weren’t any tags sticking out, you silently thanked him for calling. You never hated Valentine’s Day. At its core, it was rather a sweet concept, one that year after year, a part of you hoped that maybe you’d be able to have someone to enjoy the holiday with. But after years of being single on the most romantic day, and having it ruined by dates turned sour, more often than not a dark cloud hovered overhead while you tried to simply get through the day.

You tried to find some spin on it to turn it around. Starting tomorrow and for the next week, chocolate was going to be anywhere from fifty to seventy-percent off. Sales were always fantastic no matter what the reason was. There were only so many chocolate hearts that you were capable of eating though.

“Why are you calling so early?” You said, turning the conversation back to him. It made sense why you were up – even on a Sunday there was always work to be done – for him to be awake before noon, that caused a bit of worry.

“Ah,” there was a thump that echoed on the call like he had dropped his phone, his voice sounding distant. “I have some things to get done today.”

“Yeah, but it’s nine in the morning. I thought you weren’t even coherent before noon.”

Changkyun forced out a laugh and you lightly smiled, gathering your hair into a bun before carrying him into the kitchen. Even though it was a simple phone call and was a bit distorted, it did nothing to dull the fluttering going on by the butterflies in your stomach. His lazy grin came to mind, and only ten minutes into the hour and you were smiling like a fool while stirring your coffee.

That was another reason why you weren’t entirely fond of the holiday. The entire day was dedicated to love, to telling someone that you love them, and here you were, having fallen for your friend and yet you refused to tell him. It was hard to pinpoint when these feelings began, but it was possible that they had been growing since the day you two met.

There was no doubt that you were a workaholic, always feeling weird if you bummed around for more than a few hours, so it made sense that on the rare day off that you took, something had to crash it. You had been indulging in some binge watching of your precious Inuyasha when your phone lit up with an incoming video call from Messenger. Immediately you had been hesitant. None of your friends ever video messaged you since unlike them, your cell was an android.

You hadn’t planned to answer him. Not only did you not recognize the name, or his picture - despite how attractive he appeared - but you didn’t normally answer requests from strangers. With that in mind and mildly annoyed in having to pause the episode, you were ready to hit decline and be on with the day. Except, you were a dumb ass, and hit accept by accident.

Turns out he had meant to call someone else and had been equally shocked when you answered. In fact, he had been less than classy upon seeing you in instead of his friend, the words, ‘oh, fuck me,’ slipping out before he could stop himself.

In normal circumstances, you might have rolled your eyes, or told him to go fuck himself, but it had been six months into the pandemic and he was the first new person that you had met in a while.

“I don’t usually fuck strangers,” you had said instead, not missing the way his eyebrow rose and how his mouth curled upwards in a smile. “But if you wanna buy me a grinder and have it delivered to my place; I might eventually be persuaded.”

There had been a tense moment, but when he let out a breathless chuckle, somehow you knew that you were in the safe zone. Turns out, the two of you had a friend in common who he had meant to call, but he hadn’t been paying attention to what he was doing and accidentally clicked on your profile. The call only lasted for a few more minutes before Changkyun apologized and with an awkward wave, ended it. You stared at his profile picture and next thing you knew, you were scrolling through his pictures, oohing upon finding an old one of him with silver hair and an eyebrow piercing.

A couple hours later, there was a knock at your door and after slipping on a mask, you were greeted with a delivery man that looked no older than sixteen, announcing that he had a grinder for you. Before you could say that you hadn’t ordered anything, he promised that it had already been paid for, tip included. Not one to turn down free food, you accepted it, and saw the note that was taped to the paper bag.

I’m not a weirdo I promise. Jooheon passed along your address, and I’m not about to let someone go hungry. From, a friendly stranger who hit the wrong button.

There was no second guessing on your part. You pulled his profile back up and hit the video button, only having to wait a few seconds before his face filled the screen, locks of black hair falling across his forehead as he ruffled it up.

“Did you seriously send me a grinder?”

“You sounded hungry.”

There was a brief pause, and suddenly you were giggling, shoulders shaking as you sat down on a chair, his own deep chuckles joining in not long after. It was odd, but after that – and after confirming with Jooheon to make sure he wasn’t a creep, which you were assured he wasn’t – the two of you fell into the habit of video chatting. Some days there was nothing to say. With the pandemic raging on and everything closed, it was nice to have someone simply be there after all this time.

Fast forward five months later, the pandemic had only grown worse, and not only had Changkyun proven to be a good friend, but he managed to worm his way into your heart.

“What about you,” Changkyun suddenly asked. “You’re not actually working today, are you? Forget the holiday, it’s Sunday.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to the bedroom with the black coffee in one hand, and him in the other. “Not all day. I have a few graphics that I want to finish up or it’ll bug me. Should only take a few hours to do.”

“Only a few hours,” he teased. “I’m willing to bet you’ll still be working tonight.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Not.”

His end grew silent, and he suddenly cleared his throat. “We’ll see about that.”

There was something about that sentence that stopped you from entering the password to your computer. Glancing away from the screen, you stared at Changkyun’s picture, wondering why his voice had softened when he had said that, as if he knew something that you didn’t.

“What is it that you have to do?” You found yourself asking him again, not looking at the keys as you logged into your laptop, the bleeding hearts screensaver appearing as the icons loaded one by one.

“Just some…stuff. I’ll probably be off my phone most of the day.”

“Oh.”

With the amount of phone calls and video chats the two of you had, it had become normal to hear from him a couple times throughout the day. The text chat was filled with various memes, emojis, and conversations that ranged from how much is too much fabric softener? - all the way to late night conversations involving stories about crazy exes, to insecurities, dreams you’ve always wanted to do, and whether or not the world would ever go back to the normal that you both had known prior to March 2020.

Wetting your lips, you leaned back against the desk chair and cradled the mug in both hands. “Well, have fun with whatever you’re doing,” you said, keeping your voice light so he wouldn’t notice the shift in your mood.

It was suddenly so obvious why he wasn’t saying what he had to do. With the holiday approaching, Changkyun had asked if you had any plans for how to spend the day, and with that came your explanation for why you weren’t overly fond of this particular day. The blind dates that ended terribly and being single had been part of the reason why, but there was one particular instance from the past that was determined to ruin Valentines every year for you.

In all the years, there was one person that you had confessed to on Valentines. Jungkook was someone you considered a friend, but you had only told him the truth to get him to shut up about his girlfriend. Up until that afternoon she had been the ex that, from your understanding, despised being in the same room as him anymore. According to him, she showed up at his place with the usual, ‘I miss you,’ and ‘let’s try again,’ and somehow that all managed to lead to wild and hot passionate sex that was, ‘insanely good.’

If only that had been it.

Whether Jungkook got caught up in reliving the moment and forgot who he was talking to, he gave you a play by play of their reunion. From the way she arrived at his door, to the way she felt around him, he told every detail all while you were on the other end of the phone, fingers twisted and tugging at your hair as you sat on the floor of your childhood bedroom. On all the days, the last thing you wanted to hear was your crush talking about having to move to the living room because his bedroom reeked from all their fucking.

The conversation didn’t last much longer, thank god, but you hadn’t been able to grieve because in the other room mom’s voice could be heard as she talked about her day at work. Instead, you forced back the tears and it took everything to not break down when she smiled and handed you an orange teddy bear holding a red heart that said I love you, along with a bag of Lindt chocolates. She was unaware, and while everyone slept, you buried your face into a couple pillows to muffle the sounds of your crying. You were only eighteen and yet you swore your heart collapsed in on itself before exploding into a million glass shards.

“That fucking dick,” Changkyun had said when you told him.

The screen had been bright as the two of you video chatted, and you rubbed your eyes, tired but not ready to go to sleep. He had been doing the rounds of locking up and shutting off the lights while you spoke, only wearing a thin pair black and blue flannel pants. At least he held the phone pretty leveled so you weren’t forced to stare at his torso, but there had been several times where you found your gaze lingering on his muscular body.

“I mean,” you ran a hand through your hair, shrugging as he looked back at you. “It happens to everyone.”

Changkyun frowned though. “No,” he said, his voice gentle but firm at the same time. “No, it doesn’t. And that shouldn’t have happened to you.”

Blinking, you forced the memory away, shifting in your seat to get comfortable once again. Just because you didn’t enjoy the holiday, or didn’t have anyone to spend it with, didn’t mean that was the case with Changkyun. Why else would he be reluctant to say what his plans were? He was probably just being nice and didn’t want to appear like he was rubbing salt into an old wound that refused to heal.

“Hey,” Changkyun’s voice softened again, and as much as you knew you shouldn’t, you wished that he was here, in the apartment with you for him to hold you. “It’s still early in the morning. For all you know, there’s a Mr. Right, who’s going to stumble into your path today.”

You scoffed, the clicking of your mouse echoing in the bedroom. “I mean, I don’t have plans to go out.”

“Surprises can happen you know.”

“Alright Changkyun,” now that the internet was up, you glanced back at the phone. “I gotta get to work. Stay safe out there.”

“Always am. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

There was a pause, and when you looked back over, the call was still going. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for either of you to leave it going while doing work, the silence was never awkward, it was more comforting than anything, but this time there was a sense of something being left un–

“You look pretty today,” Changkyun said suddenly.

Blinking, your fingers tightened around the mouse as your heart raced. “What? You can’t even see me Changkyun.”

“So?”

“I could be wearing my pajamas for all you know,” your voice faltered, and despite the constriction of wearing jeans, you pulled your legs up on to the chair to hug them to your chest.

“I’ve already seen you in your pajamas,” he joked. “You’re still pretty though.”

He was smiling. You knew for certain that he was, and that made your palms turn clammy, forcing you to wipe them against the pant leg.

“Maybe I’m not, wearing clothes?” Internally you slapped yourself, instantly regretting those words, and perhaps your entire existence at this point. It was still early. Instead of work, maybe you could possibly bury yourself under all the blankets and never answer his phone calls again.

Hearing shuffling coming from the phone, you pressed your lips together, not entirely sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Are you trying to keep me from my plans today?” His voice deepened and if it weren’t for the fact that you were already sitting down, you were certain that you’d be on the floor.

“No, I’m just stupid,” you blurted out, slamming your hand over your mouth.

Changkyun chuckled, and suddenly the phone seemed closer to him because his voice became clearer. “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Oh god. No. It was absolutely the other way around. He was the one who had the advantage on his side, between the lip bites and the selfies he sent that captured his jawline that was perfect to cut glass with. Whether it was his godly features, or when the two of you were video chatting and he rolled onto his stomach and face planted himself into the pillow, you fell for him every time.

“Know what?” You rushed to say, ignoring his laughter. “I have work and you have things to do. Stay safe, and I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

There was no hesitation. This time you slammed your finger on the end call button and for extra measure, tossed it away and on the bed, letting it disappear among the sea of messy blankets.

Shakily sighing, you slid further down in the chair as the edge of the desk pinned your legs to your chest to keep from falling to the ground. He had never said anything like that before. Sure, there were times where he’d see you do something or when you’d ramble on about a show or work, he’d might say cute, but that always felt like an afterthought.

“Damn it Changkyun,” you said, glaring at where you had thrown the phone and hating the fact that his words kept circling around your mind, making you feel incredibly warmer than you had been ten minutes earlier. Hating that while he was probably going to be on a date with some pretty girl who was worth his time, you were at home, working on a Sunday, wishing that the guy you hadn’t even met in person was here and telling you that in-between kisses.

You ran a hand over your face with a groan, fingers of course getting caught in the bun briefly as you sat up. There was work to be done, and with a click of the mouse, the programs you needed quickly opened up. It was fairly easy, and if you focused, would only take an hour, maybe even less to get done. But with Changkyun on the brain, all you wanted to do was curl back up under the messy blankets and daydream about him. About what it would be like to hug him, to hear his voice in person, and perhaps, spend a Valentine’s day with someone who wouldn’t let you down.

That wasn’t going to happen though. It was a daydream and nothing more.

Lacing your fingers together, you quickly turned them inward, groaning in satisfaction at the loud crack that emitted from the joints. Outside the window that the desk was placed in front of, the sun had already begun its descent for the night. The sky was painted in splashes of orange with lazy clouds slipping in, the remaining bits of blue falling steadily behind.

Despite what Changkyun had predicted, he was only partially correct. With him swimming freely in your mind, you had been distracted, lost in a hazy daydream that made it impossible to focus on the graphics that you were trying to finish up. More often than not you stepped away from the desk, feet guiding you to the other room or in small twirls with the faintest lovesick smile. It was impossible to get anything done. So, you said fuck it. It was Sunday after all, and you weren’t expected to have those scheduled to be posted for a few days. Where was the harm in having one day to yourself? One with no work whatsoever to stress you out?

With work out of the way and having no other plans, another cup of coffee had been made and in the spirit of the holiday, your gaze had lingered on the makeup that sat on the dresser. Most of it had gone unused as the weeks melted into months. Tubes of lipstick and eye shadow palettes once loved had been forgotten about, and as you recalled, the brushes that you typically forgot to clean had been washed out of pure boredom. It was with new motivation that you grabbed a majority of the collection and hopped onto the counter in the bathroom, music playing from a playlist filled with songs from your younger years that held nostalgia, and simply played around with the colors.

By the time you were done, an hour had gone by, and you gained two cut creases with glitter, contoured cheeks, painted your lips, and looked like you were ready to go out for a date out in the city to be wined and dined. Instead, you slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and slid into the kitchen with plans to see what frozen meal the freezer had to offer. If anything, it had the bare bones of a date. The location? Your couch. The hot leading man? Most likely the main character from whatever show you finally decided on after you gave a good scroll through Netflix. All you needed was utter disappointment and it could be considered a success.

You were torn between making the decision for frozen lasagna or chicken Alfredo, but a sudden and loud knock at the door stopped you. Eyebrows pulling in confusion, you carefully set the food on the counter, taking a moment to slip on the mask that you left hanging on the doorknob for situations like this. Not that they occurred often. With the exception of having food delivered, once the world realized that this pandemic wasn’t just a simple flu and doctors encouraged people to stay home, you hadn’t invited anyone over. It was lonely, and you missed your friends and family greatly, but this wasn’t a situation to take lightly.

“I’m sorry,” you said, opening the door once the fabric mask was securely on. “I think you might have the wrong…”

And you stopped. Stopped talking and stared. Stared at the man leaning against your door frame, wearing a black as ink suit jacket, a pristine white button up shirt was tucked into matching black pants, with the top several buttons undone to reveal a tanned and toned chest that you knew he took pride in considering all the gym selfies he sent. The black fabric mask he wore hid most of his face, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled together.

“I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” Changkyun said, his deep voice sounding better in real life than you had expected, and dreamed of.

He pushed off of the frame and it was then that you noticed the things in his hands. In the left, was a plastic bag stuffed with packaged containers, and in the right…in his right wrapped in pink tissue paper was a bouquet of red and pink carnations with babies’ breath mixed in. There had to be at least a dozen, perhaps a baker’s dozen, if not a few extra.

There were no words. After all the books you consumed to pass the time, articles you searched for work, and even countless texts sent to friends, everything escaped you at that very moment because he was here. He was actually here and standing in front of you.

“I know you said you haven’t had anyone over since this started. But I got tested a couple days ago, came back negative, and we’ve both been working from home this entire time so if you want…” Changkyun lifted the bag he held into view and this time, you could see that even though it was triple bagged, you were able to make a red dragon printed on the cartons. “I have Chinese food, and I’m willing to bet that Netflix has something for us to watch. If you’re not comfortable though that’s fine. I have plenty of food that we can—”

Except he didn’t get to finish what he was saying before you tugged him into the apartment by his arm. Immediately, your arms wound their way around his waist and you pressed your face into his chest, tightly hugging him.

“It’s you,” you said, feeling his right arm carefully rest on your back to hold you close, all while being mindful of the flowers that he was carrying.

There was a soft chuckle from above as he laid his head on top of yours. “It’s good to finally see you too.”

Smiling, your arms tightened around him once more before you stepped backwards, letting him enter the apartment completely. “You didn’t have to bring flowers you know.”

“And show up empty handed?”

You gestured towards the table for him to set the food down, taking the flowers and going to the sink. “You bought Chinese food. That more than would have made up for no flowers.” But while the vase filled with water and you trimmed the stems, gently adding them in one by one, there was a warmth spreading within your chest that came right from the heart, even more so when he chuckled. The only people to ever buy you flowers on Valentine’s day were your parents.

Like always, the silence that followed felt natural. The only difference was that you were aware that Changkyun was moving around in the kitchen with you, getting plates and silverware out without having to ask where things were because he had seen you do the same thing countless times before while video chatting. You just never thought he was actually paying attention.

When they were all in the vase, you tossed the ends in the trash and turned around, only to see that once again, he was watching you.

“Why are you staring?”

Changkyun shrugged, running a hand through his hair as the black locks fell right back into his eyes. “I was right.”

Tilting your head, you walked over to the table and set the vase in the center. You were already so close to him, but he leaned his head down, the black fabric of his mask brushing against the top of your ear.

“That you look pretty,” he said softly. “And it’s not because of the makeup. I had a feeling you might dress up today; you look beautiful.”

The air that you had been breathing was instantly stolen, and when you made the mistake of looking up at him, you realized just how close the two of you were. If it weren’t for the masks you both wore…

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” you teased, trying to not glance at where his lips would be. “You’re a lot taller than messenger video makes you out to be.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. Straightening up, Changkyun slipped his suit jacket off and set it on the back of a chair to undo the buttons on his cuffs, taking the time to roll each sleeve up to his elbows. “You’re meaner in person.”

Good god. You knew that he worked out, but damn. Maybe not for the first couple weeks, eventually Changkyun fell into the habit of sending selfies while he was working out at the gym. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but seeing his tanned arms and the white sleeve making its way up to his elbow, it sparked the butterflies and gave them a newfound fluttering energy.

“Do you wanna eat or not?” Not thinking of it, you reached up to unhook the elastic from around your ears, removing the mask and setting it back on the counter. With a glance up at him, you saw him raise an eyebrow before he mimicked your movements to take off his own mask, revealing the jaw that tempted your daydreams in more ways than you wished.

He smiled, and you handed him his plate and together, the two of you fixed up heaping plates of Chinese food, using the concept of needing to eat to distract yourself. Everything was still hot and as you settled on the couch, steam curled its way up into the air.

“Were you able to get your secret plans done today?” You asked, glancing over at him while Netflix loaded up on the TV screen.

“Why are you so interested in what I had to do?” He was focused on the dumpling that he held with the chopsticks, not meeting your gaze at all.

It wasn’t that you meant to be focused on that. But he had acted so suspicious on the phone earlier, and now he was here, having dinner in your apartment with enough Chinese food to cost a small fortune, along with sixteen carnations – yes, you counted while cutting them – on Valentine’s Day. There had been no warning, and as much as you wanted to believe that he was here for more than a friendly drop in, the idea of him having been on a date earlier in the day and was here to talk about it, about the possible other girl, killed the butterflies. You had already been through this once, you didn’t want to go through it again. Not with him.

Scrolling through the list of suggestions, you didn’t notice Changkyun looking over at you, or the way his face softened. His fingers tightened around the chopsticks and he leaned back against the cushion.

“What’s that one about?” He nodded towards one of the movies that was in the watch again section.

You raised an eyebrow, scrolling over to it. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve never seen Love Actually?”

“If I did, would I have asked what it’s about?”

Unable to stop yourself, an undignified sound escaped you as you wildly gestured with the remote. “How? It’s like the sweetest romance, Christmas movie ever. They play it every year. It even has Liam Neeson, the man promising to find and kill everyone, as a sweet dad who doesn’t kill anyone! That alone is a true Christmas miracle by itself.”

The thought of him being with someone else dissipated at the sound of his laughter. Even caught up in the excitement of this particular movie, you couldn’t stop the smile that grew. No matter what, even in real life or over video, you always found yourself grinning the second he laughed or smiled. He was without a doubt contagious, in the best way possible.

“What are you waiting for?” He said, gesturing towards the screen with the chopsticks, shoulders relaxing at the sight of your smile and apparent joy for the film. One that he had in fact, seen a few times over the years. “Press play.”

There was no hesitation. You were determined to culture him in what you deemed to be a classic in romance films. So, as you comfortably settled in, belly growing full of warm and delicious food, you once again missed Changkyun’s wide smile. It was the kind of grin that no matter what he did, or how serious he tried to be, simply wouldn’t go away.

The empty dinner plates sat long forgotten about on the coffee table as another movie played, this one involving an action pack fight scene with aliens in New York City. Hours had passed since Changkyun arrived at your door, and despite it growing late and Valentine’s Day was nearing its end, his polished shoes were unlaced and tossed on the floor. A wine bottle had been opened up, and you sat much closer to him to share a blanket with him. You were blaming it on the wine for being so bold because when he stretched an arm on the back of the couch, you didn’t think twice about gently leaning your head against it.

You couldn’t even really blame it on the wine. It was the first glass for both of you, and you were a slow drinker, so you were as sober as a newborn lamb at the moment.

It was just like when the two of you would video chat with the same movie on, but so much better. Having him here, you were noticing the smallest things that you’d miss when on the phone.  At the base of his neck was a small mole that you never realized he had, or that he was wearing two thin silver chains – a pair that, now that you thought about it, he never went without. Behind you, he’d occasionally rub his fingers together and the metal of his bracelet would lightly clink against itself. With the few glances that you stole, his attention was solely on the movie and his jaw appeared to be pressed together.

Feeling a sudden weight, you turned to see him settling his arm around your shoulders. His wrist was now hanging over your arm, and it took all your willpower to not reach up with a free hand to lace your fingers loosely with his. When you glanced back up at him, he was in mid sip of his wine, throat bobbing with each swallow.

Shit. This was not helping the butterflies that seemed to have multiplied since his arrival.

Changkyun raised an eyebrow when he lowered his glass, softly humming in question, but you only shook your head and focused back on the movie. Except, now you were hyper aware that he was looking at you this time.

“What’s wrong?” He murmured, his thumb and fingers lightly rubbing against your arm.

That was another thing. His voice was deep. In the calls, the phone occasionally cracked and had made it seem lighter, but it appeared to be just the opposite. He was blessed with a voice that was able to drop lower than a bass, sending your insides to mush when he spoke. It was the type of voice that was destined to recite poetry and old sonnets, to hold three in the morning conversations that went wherever and everywhere. When he called your name, it never failed to send tingles running the length of your body. It was his voice, and you knew that you’d never grow tired of hearing him talk.

“Nothing. I was just thinking,” you said, leaning your head back, his arm comfortable and warm as you looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze for a few seconds.

His fingers didn’t stop. The gentle caress, a small reassurance that he was in fact here and this wasn’t your imagination, made it harder to stay where you sat instead of curling into his side like you wanted.

“Thinking about what?”

Letting out a breathless scoff, you tilted your head towards him. Changkyun was a sight to see and you knew that if this was the only time you got to spend with him in person, you were never going to forget this moment.

Your smile softened. “That you’re actually here, after all these months of texts and video calls. You actually came here, and you’re real.”

“Did you think I was a robot or something?” Changkyun teased, but his fingers stopped moving, and that lock of hair fell back into his eyes again.

“Well, you did accidentally call me instead of Jooheon and last time I checked, we look nothing alike.” There was no thinking as you reached up and mimicked his movements to push that damn lock back, feeling how soft his hair was. It brought you a little bit closer to him and in that second, the world suddenly felt like it was no longer moving when you glanced down at his lips. Those pink lips that you wondered and dreamt about night after night, too curious for your own good on what it would be like to kiss him. Now was your chance to find out, especially when he didn’t lean back and appeared to be getting closer.

“Cookies?” You suddenly asked, leaning back to see his eyebrows start to pull together in confusion. Heart racing, you set your wine glass on the coffee table and walked around the couch to step into the kitchen. With only your back to him, you quietly let out a shaky breath. “I know I have some for us to munch on…”

Opening up a cabinet, you stretched on to your toes to search for the package of cookies that you knew were in there, mentally slapping yourself at having done that. He hadn’t backed away, hadn’t tried to stop you, in fact, if you allowed yourself to believe it, you would have recalled that he had started to lean in when you randomly brought up cookies. As much as you wanted to, the last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship.

You were pushing aside a box of crackers when his hand captured your wrist, halting your search. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its cage when his fingers gently wrapped around your hand, and when his palm settled on a hip, it was equally as comforting as it lit a spark inside you. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to melt into his embrace.

“Sweetheart, do you really think I’m here to just hang out?” He asked, his voice low as he spoke into your ear, his body stepping closer to yours.

“You’re…you’re not?” You weakly asked, nervous because you didn’t want this all to be a joke.

The idea of this being a one night only thing thanks to the holiday left an ache in your bones. You wanted more nights like this with him, wanted to hear him call out your name with that gentle smile of his over and over again. Dammit, you wanted to wake up and have the blankets be stifling hot but not care as you crawled over to his side of the bed, searching for morning cuddles because fuck the person who decided that the workday would start at eight in the morning. The only person you wanted to spend this quarantine with, to be able to touch, to be worried and even scared about all this with, was Changkyun.

Changkyun’s breath hit the back of your neck as he softly chuckled, sending a shiver down your spine. “God, I thought I was being obvious. Let me try this differently.”

Still holding on to your wrist, he turned you around and once you were facing him, let go of your hand to step closer until your back was against the counter. With each breath your chest brushed against his, and when he pushed the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear, fingers brushing against your cheek, you almost forgot to breathe.

“I know you’ve always had a pretty crappy Valentine’s day,” Changkyun softly spoke. His gaze was steady with yours, and even though he was being serious, there was a softness to his features that had the corner of his mouth curling upwards. “And I thought that the best way to keep that from repeating this year, would be if you spent it with someone, who loves you.”

Who loves…oh.

It suddenly all made sense. Why he didn’t want to say what he was doing to celebrate, him calling you pretty, the food and flowers, the coaxing touches, he could have rented a billboard and put up a neon flashing sign and you probably still would have been blind.

“Changkyun,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He softly smiled as he closed the remaining space between you to rest his forehead against yours, his palms sliding along your body until he had you wrapped in a hug. “There you go, now you get it.”

Giggling, you rolled your eyes out of habit. It was like him to be a smart ass during a moment like this. With that being said, the butterflies fluttered their way up to your heart, and all the daydreams that you entertained and thought nothing would come of them, now had the possibility of becoming reality.

“I love you too,” you said, running your thumb along his cheek as you watched his smile widen.

There was no hesitation, or smart ass comments this time. Instead, when his lips met yours in a kiss, your heart stopped racing. The butterflies finally calmed down and the world around you went out of focus as your fingers slid through his hair. His lips were soft, and thanks to the red wine, there was a lingering tangy sweetness that reminded you of raspberries. You found yourself becoming addicted to his taste, the kisses melting together until you lost track of how long the two of you stood there, content with doing nothing but being wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

A clock chimed out in the apartment, breaking the kiss which only served to make you pout at the loss of his lips. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Changkyun, who smirked before leaning down to give one more kiss, which quickly turned into two, then three.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” He murmured, resting his forehead once more against yours.

“You trying to kiss and dash?”

His fingers gently pressed into your sides and you squirmed at his touch, giggling at his antics. However, he leaned his head back and sighed. “Like hell I’d do that. But you usually wake up earlier for work, and trust me, I’ll end up keeping you awake if I stay the night.”

There was no doubt about that, and to be truthful, you’d have no issue if that was the case. He was right, but as ideas turned in your mind, you shrugged. “You can’t go out driving though,” you said softly. “You were drinking.”

Changkyun frowned, head tilting as he removed a hand from your back to run through his hair. “Not even a whole glass.”

You raised an eyebrow. It took him having to say he loved you for you to understand how he felt about you despite his dine and wine attempt, and here he was, completely missing what you were suggesting. Either you were absolutely perfect for each other, or equally dense.

“Well, we also broke quarantine,” you said slowly, slipping a finger through his belt loop at the same time to bring him closer. “Isn’t the recommendation to stay at home for what, at least three days?”

He started to tilt his head, mouth opening to question what you were saying until he saw the smile growing on your face. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips together before looking back at you.

“That was horrible,” Changkyun said. He slipped his arms back around you, pulling you away from the counter. His grin said otherwise. “At least I tried being romantic.”

“Well, I mean, if you really want to go back to your place by yourself…”

He didn’t let you say another word, his lips reclaiming yours again, because there was absolutely nothing that felt better than kissing you after months of dreaming what it would be like.

“Don’t go,” you softly murmured against his lips. “Not when you just got here.”

Maybe it was selfish. But you didn’t want to be alone again. Not when he had gone through so much trouble to make this night special, not when you finally knew that he felt the same way about you. After almost a year of staying inside the apartment whenever you could, of going without hugs or get togethers, being able to touch and kiss Changkyun felt like you were relearning what those were all over again. All you wanted was a few days with him.

Changkyun hummed, his arms tightening around you. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he said, gazing down at you as if he had considered the same thing.

The clock that had rang out to announce the hour of a new day and that Valentine’s day was over, continued to quietly tick in the other room. The Earth continued to spin, and outside, the world was exactly how it had been this morning, full of fear, what ifs, and the unknown of a pandemic that didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

But inside that small apartment, wrapped in Changkyun’s arms, giggles and laughter filled the walls when he pulled you to the middle of the kitchen and spun you around for a late-night dance. It might not be the thing that changes the world, but for the first time, in a long time, hope began to blossom alongside the butterflies in your stomach. The memories of past Valentine’s days melted away at his kiss, until only the memory of him at your door remained.

Even when it hadn’t felt like it, love and hope had always been there. And now it was here promising lovelier days to come.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 7

So this chapter is in Ivar’s POV. Kind of a glimpse as to see what is going on with him. Plus, its a great excuse to write some Floki/Ivar interaction. 

Warnings: swearing, implied violence, Ivar having boundary issues but that’s not new. 

Words: 4550

Tag List: @heavenly1927​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @zuxiezendler​ @punkrocknpearls​ @love-all-things-writing​ @southernbe​

Series Masterlist

"There you are, you crippled bastard. I've been looking everywhere."

 Ivar smirked, exhaling the cigarette smoke from his mouth, not even turning his gaze from the lights of the city beneath him. "How did you get up here? I thought your old, lazy ass wouldn't be able to handle it."

 Floki scoffed as he moved to stand next to his protégé. "Old, lazy ass. I may be old but I could still kick your ass if I wanted too."

 Wordlessly, Ivar pulled out his cigarette carton from his suit’s pocket, taking one out and handing it to Floki. He grabbed his lighter and held it out, open palm. When Floki did not immediately take it, he glanced over to see one of the people he trusted most, staring down at the cigarette spinning between his fingers. 

 "I won't tell Helga."

 Floki giggled. "You're a bad influence on me, boy." He took the lighter and lit his cigarette, handing it back over after. 

 The two stood silently for several minutes, leaning against the railing, overlooking the city. They were at the Ragnarssons Trading headquarters, one of the taller buildings in the heart of the city. The sound of humanity floated away to a hushed background noise with how high up they stood. The upper floors of the building were restricted access, being the main offices and meeting rooms of Ragnar, his sons and others deemed important. The lower floors housed the cesspool of asinine insubordinates, those that did their limited jobs and were easily replaced. Ivar avoided those floors, not just because of the stares, or the twittering females and few males who vied for attention from the Ragnarssons in hopes of snatching one up or thinking sleeping with them as an easy way to further their careers. No, he found them all boring and beneath him. With a single look, he knew what many of them wanted, they were so easy to read, to know their simple minds. It was pathetic. 

 So, when he did come to the headquarters, he immediately headed to the upper floors. He had an office next to Torstein that he used infrequently. Most of his work he could do remotely, a blessing due to his condition and his volatile temperament. When he had work that needed extra cyber security or to delve deeper into concerns, having the multiple monitors at his office and the ability to search out his father or brothers immediately came in handy. 

 The roof of the building was his favorite place to think and plan. No one came up here but more than that, he could see everything. The city, the surrounding water, everything. He wondered if this was what the gods felt like looking down on Midgard from Valhalla. 

 Ivar exhaled, the curl of smoke slipping from his lips. "Are you coming to the meeting?"

 Floki ran a hand over his tattooed head. "Your father asked for me to come."

 "Mmmm. Know what it's about?"

 "Probably the same old boring shit."

 They chuckled, still staring over the city. Out of the corner of his eye, Ivar could see Floki tug uncomfortably on the black business suit he wore. The only reason the shipbuilder ever wore anything remotely formal was when Ragnar demanded it….and coming to the headquarters fit into the category. Ragnar liked to say that if they wanted to be taken as serious businessmen then they needed to dress the part, and it was not too difficult to wash blood out of the suits. 

 The youngest Lothbrok leaned against the railing in a charcoal gray suit, his dark hair pulled back into a man-bun. He did not mind the formal attire as much, there was a sense of prestige and strength that came with it. On more than one occasion, he had been told he presented a striking figure and he liked to use that to his advantage. Whether it was terror or arousal that his figure caused depended on the person. He knew how to control them all. 

 A vibration had Ivar pulling out his phone to see a new text from Kari. He smiled softly at her cheeky response. When asked what she was doing tonight, she said she was taking a bubble bath and reading a book. He said he did not believe her and demanded a picture as proof she was actually taking a bubble bath like a child. Now he gazed down at an image of her feet peeking out of bubbles against a porcelain bathtub. The picture was so innocent yet sensual, just like his kitten. An innocent seductress. His cock began to stiffen at the lewd ideas running rampage through his mind at the simple picture. 

 With her picture came a text.

 Kari: You should try it sometime. It's very relaxing. 

 He snorted. There was no way in hell he would ever take a bubble bath, and he figured she probably knew it. 

 Ivar: the only way I'm gtn n2 a bubble bath is if u in there w/ me

 Grinning smugly, he could imagine the flush on her cheeks at his answer as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

 Floki's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You going to tell me about her?"

 Ivar did not answer right away, taking a drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaling it. "Nothing to fucking tell."

 "Hmmm…. I'd bet she is the only person you smile for like that."

 "Fuck…." He ran his hand over his mouth, before turning to lean his back against the roof's railing. Floki was right and clearly knew it if the sly look said anything. It made Ivar want to knock the smirk off the madman's face with his cane, which rested on the railing next to him. 

 "This isn't like Freydis, right?" Floki quietly inquired after several minutes of companionable silence. 

 "Gods, no. She is…." He found his words trailing off, unable to articulate what Kari meant to him. 

 Freydis had been a hope for someone more than just a fuck, someone who potentially cared for him. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that she may have cared for him, but she cared more for the status and money being in a relationship with him allowed. So, they used each other. She wasted his money on frivolous things, lavishing herself with stuff she would never dream of having otherwise. He used her for fucking and to have someone on his arm when they attended events, to silence the pitying looks from others and the comments that he did not know how to please a woman. 

 After ten months though, he found himself resenting her and their relationship. It was then he broke it off with her. She cried, supposedly heartbroken but he did not care. In the months following, she tried to worm her way back into his life but he slammed the door shut, uncaring of how cruel he appeared to others. He fucked other women or had them give him blow jobs, never even taking the time to remove his leg braces or pants. They meant nothing. They were nothing. 

 But all that changed a month ago when a woman with blue-green eyes and a sweet innocence about her bumped into him…. and then confused the hell out of him when she kissed him. 

 "What's her name?" Floki asked, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette.

 "Kari." He answered, probably sounding far softer than he meant to. After, he tilted his head to look at his surrogate father, brow furrowed. "How'd you find out?"

 "The gods told me." At Ivar's unamused look, Floki giggled. "Your brothers. They said you have a new girlfriend."

 "She's not."

 "Mmmm?"

 He sighed. "My girlfriend. She's made that very fucking clear. She keeps saying she can't be my girlfriend or she doesn't want to date right now. It's fucking infuriating!" He ripped the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it on the ground. "I don’t…. I don't fucking understand. She always says we're just friends, but I know she wants more. Sometimes I can see it when she looks at me. I don't know what to fucking do!" 

 "Why are you still wasting time on her then? She sounds like she doesn't care. Just move on from the bitch."

 "Don't you fucking call her that! And she does care! More than most people." He snarled, fists trembling at his side. When Floki only smirked at him, Ivar rolled his eyes, anger slowly abating. He played into the old man's game easily. 

 Floki dropped his own half-used cigarette, eyeing Ivar curiously. "What is it about this girl?"

 "She…. fuck…. she sees me. Not a cripple. Not some rich guy she can fuck and get stuff from. She sees... she sees me. Just me. Like you and mother. I don't….no one has looked at me like that. There's always a motive, always an angle. But not with her." The words rolled off his tongue, a dam unleashed, as if begging to have been finally uttered, to share his thoughts aloud to make sense of them. With Floki, he knew his thoughts were safe, that the man would never cruelly make fun of him. 

 "You really care about this girl."

 Ivar did not answer, the truth already hung in the air as if painted in the sky for all to see.  

 Floki moved closer, wrapping his arm around Ivar's shoulder and pressing their foreheads together. "Give her time. The gods will tell you what to do. But for fuck's sake, stop stalking her. Hvitserk made sure to tell us how you showed up at her work and home unannounced."

 Ivar chuckled, mirroring Floki's action. "Hvitty better keep his fucking hands off her."

 "He will. He sees how important she is to you." Floki leaned back, that stupid grin on his face. "When do I get to meet her?"

 "Why the hell do you think I'd let her meet your insane ass? She'd take one look at you and run away."

 "She puts up with your stupidity. I'd be an improvement for her." 

 "Fuck off." Ivar laughed, throwing a mock punch at the man. "I've only known her for a month."

 "But it feels longer, right?"

 Ivar startled at the soft tone Floki used, like he knew exactly how Ivar felt. For once, he wondered if this was how Helga and Floki’s relationship felt. His tone was just as quiet, almost reverent as he answered. "Yeah."

 "Don't do something stupid and lose her. Meet her where she is. Be her friend if that's what she wants. She seems good for you."

 "Where is this wisdom coming from?" Ivar scoffed, running a hand over the braids on top of his head. 

 "I've always been wise, you just don't listen, pretentious asshole."

 "No, it's Helga that's the wise one."

 "My sweet Helga certainly is." Floki clapped a hand on Ivar's shoulder. "Come on, the meeting will be starting soon. I was sent to find your crippled ass."

 "Why the fuck are we talking then?"

 "I wanted to hear about this girl. From the sounds of it, you'll start waxing poetic sonnets about the poor girl soon and the gods will certainly…."

 "Shut the fuck up." 

 Talking casually about the latest boat Floki was working on building back home in Norway, they headed towards the meeting room attached to Ragnar's office. The trip from the roof to the meeting room should have been quick but Ivar moved slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. He knew the whites of his eyes had an alarming shade of blue. He had seen it that morning when he looked in the mirror but even more so, he could feel it in his bones. It felt as if with one simple misstep, he would break a bone. The fragility of his body was never more evident than on these days. 

 He loathed it. 

 Thankfully, Floki made no comments about Ivar's eyes or his slow, measured gait. Instead he talked, making sure to hold doors open and continued in his loping walk as if they were on a leisurely stroll. He did comment about how nice Ivar's cane was and asked if he had used it on anyone recently. 

 The cane had been a gift from Floki three years ago for his birthday. It appeared to be an expensive cane made up of an ebony tapered shaft and sterling silver handle with a snarling wolf's head. What only a few knew was that if Ivar twisted the handle and pulled, a long, slender knife came out, the blade attached to the handle. Plus, the shaft of the cane was reinforced with a sturdy material, making it easily used as a blunt force object without fear of it bending or denting. Floki had said long ago that one should never be without a weapon, and the cane was his way of ensuring Ivar followed that sentiment. 

 The private meeting room of Ragnar was a spacious corner room with two walls made up of floor-to-ceiling windows, a dark hardwood flooring and deep green walls. A single slab wooden oak table was the centerpiece of the room, with cushioned chairs around it. Currently all those seats were filled besides two, signifying that Floki and Ivar were the last to arrive at the meeting. 

 Ragnar Lothbrok looked up as they entered the meeting room, appearing both suave and intimidating in his gray business suit and hair plaited. "Where have you two been?" He narrowed his piercing eyes at Floki. "I thought Helga wanted you to stop smoking."

 "Your son is very convincing." Floki shrugged. 

 The patriarch's lips twitched in a suppressed smirk. He waved at the almost full table. "Sit. Let's get this started."

 At the beginning of each month, Ragnar liked to meet with his sons and few trusted advisors to review the past month and discuss anything important in the future. It was his way of checking in with progress and making sure everyone was doing their jobs, while keeping all informed. Ivar typically found the meetings boring and a waste of time, but he made sure to attend them like a dutiful son. 

 In this particular meeting, Ragnar discussed how he would be meeting with Ecbert of Saxon Industries in a week, an impromptu decision but Ecbert had insisted of its necessity. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes but kept his thoughts to himself. He knew by the way Floki clenched and unclenched his fist on Ivar's left that he felt the same way. A glance at his brothers showed the two latecomers were not the only skeptical ones. Ecbert and Ragnar had a mutual respect for one another but it did not stop them from betraying and trying to sabotage each other's businesses when it pleased them. Aella, who ran the Northern part of Saxon Industries, made no qualms about showing his disdain for Ragnar and his family, labeling them nothing more than "power-mongering, bloodthirsty heathens who allowed their animalistic tendencies to rule them". 

 To say there was bad blood between Ragnar and his sons with Aella was an understatement. 

 Years prior, Saxon Industries had been the leader in imports and exports in the United Kingdom and Ireland but all that changed once Ragnar set his gaze upon those shores. Now, Ragnarssons Trading was the powerhouse of the United Kingdom, Scandinavia, and France, with that influence expanding even more as trade flourished around the Mediterranean.  

 Saxon Industries was forced to turn their ventures to North America, something that caused resentment from both Ecbert and Aella, even if Aella was the only one vocal about it. 

 Ivar personally thought they should just wipe out the competition, utterly destroy Saxon Industries until it held no hope of recovery. It would also send the perfect message to any who tried to compete against them in the future. 

 At the conclusion of the meeting, Ivar rose from his seat, still moving slower than normal. He could feel the tenderness in his muscles and bones. A silent threat to his body. The concerned looks from those around did not help. It only happened every few months now, but he still hated the pitying looks. 

 "Ivar, I need to speak with you." Ragnar announced, momentarily breaking off his conversation with Torstein and Sigurd at the head of the table. Ivar nodded his understanding. With a muted groan, he sat back down in the plush chair and pulled out his phone.

 "Want me to wait for you?" Hvitserk asked, coming to his side. 

 "Nah, go ahead. I'll see you at home."

 Hvitserk gently clapped him on the shoulder then leaned down to whisper smugly. "Tell Kari hello from me."

 "Fuck off!" Ivar said, making his elder brother laugh as he walked out. 

 Speaking of, Ivar opened his phone to view the response from Kari to his previous message.

 Kari: unbelievable. 

 For a second, he considered replying but closed out of the text. At this late hour, she would already be asleep due to how early she regularly woke up. Instead he decided to wait until the morning to reply. 

 Soon enough, everyone trickled out of the meeting room leaving him alone with his father. Once it was just the two of them, Ivar watched as the confident, composed expression typical on his father's face slid away to reveal something more haggard. He straightened in his chair when his father walked across the room and pointedly closed and locked the doors before taking the seat next to him. 

 Ragnar rubbed a hand down his face, gazing out the open window before them. A sudden falling star streaked across the sky, momentarily distracting Ivar from his impatience, which thudded in his chest like a drum, growing louder and louder each moment his father kept them locked in silence. 

 "What I'm going to tell you does not leave this room. If you have any questions, you come to me directly. Understood?"

 Turning his head to eye his father with intrigue, Ivar nodded. "Understood."

 Only after that did Ragnar shift to meet Ivar's intense blue eyes with his own. "Our security system caught an email being sent out which contained an itemized list of some shipments we will be sending next month to our friends in Finland."

 Ivar's eyebrows rose. About ninety percent of Ragnarssons Trading was legal, something his father was very proud of considering how the company started. That hidden ten percent, it allowed them to stay connected to the black market and underground trading, to know things before they happened. Most recently they had made contact with a new buyer from Finland who had an affinity for certain illegal weapons. 

 Ragnar leaned forward, rubbing a hand over his mouth before continuing as if it pained him to utter the words. "It seems the damn email was supposed to be encrypted but somehow never fully transitioned, leaving half of it legible. We know it was sent from this building."

 "Do you know who the recipient was?"

 "The Russian mafia in Thailand."

 Ivar sharply inhaled, his mind furiously working on the implications, plus what their next steps should be. "What do you want me to do?"

 "I want you to find out who the fuck is selling us out. By any means necessary….and I want to burn them alive."

 A sinister grin grew on Ivar's face, matching the one on his father's. 

 "Consider it done."

 "Good." Ragnar absent-mindedly tapped the table with his fist. "This is your main priority but completely confidential, not even a word to your brothers."

 "You think it's one of them?"

 "No, but we don't know who is close to them that it might be." Ragnar reassured.

 Ivar rubbed a hand over his mouth as he thought, eyes drifting to the window. "I'll trace from my office. If the need arises, I'll go to Norway with Mother."

 "Good. You've never failed me. I know you won't in this."

 Ivar's heart swelled at the praise, something he rarely received from his ambitious and frequently absent father, especially during his childhood. 

 After a long moment, Ragnar reclined back in his chair, a small smirk on his face. "Your eyes are blue."

 "They are always blue, courtesy of your genetics." Ivar retorted harshly, already knowing where this was going. 

 "You know what I mean, Ivar." His father flatly stated. "If you break something, your mother will be breathing down both of our necks."

 "I'm not a fucking child, I can take care of myself."

 Ragnar hummed, seeming amused by his son's antagonized state. "Don't come into the office tomorrow."

 "I'll do whatever the fuck I want to."

 "Start whatever you want, but for gods' sake, stay in bed where you can rest. If I get a call that you're in the damn hospital with a broken bone, I'll break something else on you." He threatened, pointing a finger at his son.

 Ivar sneered, "Mother will skin you alive."

 Ragnar chuckled darkly, leaning back once again. "No, her style would be to sabotage me somehow. Now get out of here. Your brothers planned on going out for drinks tonight, are you going to join them?"

 He opened his mouth to answer when an impulsive idea latched itself in his mind. "No…." He answered slowly, a wicked smirk curled on his lips. "I think I'm going to bed."

 "Alright."

 Ivar rose, leaning on his cane. After taking a few steps away, he turned back to see his father watching him curiously. "Doesn't mean it's going to be my bed."

 With that, he walked out of the meeting room to the sound of Ragnar laughing loudly behind him.  

 *****

 He closed the bedroom door silently behind him, pleased with how the house remained quiet as he moved about. It was nearing two in the morning and the last thing he wanted was the police called with the neighbors thinking he was a burglar or something ridiculous. 

 Gently, he leaned his cane against the wall then proceeded to slip his shoes and shirt off. He dropped them on the floor, overly aware of any noise he made. Carefully, he maneuvered to the side of the bed, feeling very much like a thief in the night though he ignored it, and eased his legs out of his braces, setting them on the ground. Next, he slid under the rumpled covers, pleased when the bed's other occupant did not wake. His heart pounded in his chest though it did not deter his actions, if anything the forbidden feel spurred him on. Laying on his side, he placed his arm around her. Cautious of his body, he scooted closer to her until his chest was to her back. Before he could fully relax, she began to stir. 

 "Mmmm?"

 He tenderly placed a kiss on the back of her neck before murmuring. "Shhh, go to sleep."

 "Ivar?" Kari asked sleepily, her body tensing under his touch. 

 "Yes. Go back to sleep."

 At his words, she twisted in his arms to face him, his arm still over her waist comfortably. He could hear the sleep fading from her voice. "What? What are you doing here?"

 "Trying to sleep." He answered coolly, a flash of irritation shooting through him. Why was she questioning him? All he wanted to do right now was sleep with her in his arms. The increasing pain in his traitorous body made him want to lash out. To demand she shut up and let them sleep. He bit his tongue before the venom could erupt. Logically he knew his presence was unexpected and surprising at this hour, but he had hoped she would be more excited to see him. 

 "That…. what? How did you get into my house?" She demanded, trying to wriggle out of his hold but to no avail. 

 "I have a key."

 That easy statement made her freeze. "You have a key…." She slowly repeated. After a moment, she sighed, relaxing back into his embrace. "You know what, I'm too tired. We'll talk about that fact in the morning. Why are you here though?"

 Maybe it was the darkness surrounding them or the enticing sleepy voice of hers, either way he found himself answering honestly…. a bit too honestly. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he quietly confessed. "I missed you….and I don't want to be alone."

 They laid there for several seconds in a tense silence. Even though she did not pull away from him, he could practically feel her over-thinking. If she told him to leave right now, he wondered if his dark heart would splinter. Over the past month she had become so vitally important to him. When he first met her, his interest had been fueled by lust plus the mystery and innocent aura around her. He wanted her. Now though, it had moved beyond want. It was a need. As much as he needed air to breathe, his mind and body coveted her. She somehow slipped past his guarded heart to entangle herself in his very core. Her presence soothed the violence that controlled his mind, she gentled his rage. She cared about him, not because of who or what he was, like everyone else. No, she cared about him as his own person, as simply Ivar. 

 Finally, she spoke in a resigned whisper. "Fine. Go to sleep, Ivar."

 "I was trying to but someone kept asking me questions." He quipped, in hopes to hide the joy and relief in his voice. 

 She grumbled, then turned over and tried to move away from him but he was not going to have that. Not now. Not where he wanted her to be after so long. Where she deserved to be. With the arm around her waist, he pulled himself against her until they were spooning. At first, she attempted to fight him, squirming away, but after a few moments she surrendered. A barely suppressed chuckle escaped him, as he tightened his hold on her. She felt so perfect in his arms, like the gods created her to fit flawlessly against him, two puzzle pieces that finally found their match. He pressed his face into her hair, nuzzling into her. His elation only increased when her fingers intertwined with his that were splayed just under her breasts. A fond smile danced on his lips at her acceptance. 

 Within moments, he felt her go limp against him, sleep consuming her one again. He lightly kissed the back of her neck, pleased when he thought he heard a content hum come from her at the action.

 Knowing his kitten, there would be hell to pay come morning, but for now, he needed this. Her body against his, to feel her heartbeat, to know she was safe. It was something that was no longer optional. He felt a man possessed, bewitched. Everything about her cast him under her spell- her beauty, her friendship, her tenderness towards him, the silly ways she made him laugh, and how she stood up for him. She was his. His responsibility. His devotion. His peace. His kitten. His alone. 

 "God natt, min skatt." He whispered against her skin. (Good night, my treasure)

 It did not take long for him to follow her into sleep, more at peace in this moment than he had been for in years.

[silvia7272]

ML Salt ~ The Cardigan Story

This is based on a true story.

Honestly, I always remembered this story because it constantly made my Sister and Mum laugh when I told them I outed a liar at school by wearing a cardigan, they were so proud of me because what I did wasn’t mean and I wasn’t even doing it out maliciousness so I thought, hey why not put it in the ML universe?

This isn’t canon to my main series so no Rosina since there isn’t any need for her, sorry sweetie.

And since I doubt Mlle Bustier would never out Lila, I’m changing the teacher to someone who actually has a backbone.

Word Count: 2303

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

I know you may not wish to be tagged for one-shots, but I thought you might enjoy some salt I was able to come up with.

Also, I wrote this in one day so I’m extremely proud of myself.

***

If you told Marinette that Lila’s reign over the school would end over a cardigan, she would tell you you’re as crazy as she was about Adrien.

A lot.

But, she did just that.

She had to thank Adrien really, the ‘advice’ he gave her was what really pushed her.

She wouldn’t outright expose her, no, she had tried that before and look where that got her, near expulsion that’s what. And not one of her friends tried to stick up for her. She always remembered that glare Alix gave her, and since then she had been ignored, turned away by them.

Even after Lila came out with ‘the truth’ she was still seen as an overly jealous girl.

“Lila’s promised she hasn’t lied about anything else she’s said to us, it only acts up around people she doesn’t know as well, maybe next time, instead of being jealous you should give her a chance and stop being a baby. Girl this all could’ve easily been avoided if you weren’t so Adrien crazy”

Really? They actually believed that load of crap?

Whatever, Marinette was done, done with everyone.

If they wanted to show her how wrong she was then she’d let them wait until hell would frost over, because fat chance that would ever happen.

If Marinette was proud of one thing about her then it would have to be her stubbornness to get to the truth.

And she could be extremely patient.

***

It was just an average day at Collège Françoise Dupont. There weren’t any Akuma’s caused by anyone the previous day so Marinette was finally able to have a good night’s rest, something the exhausted teenager really missed.

She felt so re-energised she danced in the kitchen as she made breakfast without a care in the world.

.

Before she fell over that was.

“…Owww”

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want to be hurt before school hours, now just sit tight and I’ll get you something to eat,” Her Maman said. Marinette felt grateful. After breakfast, she gave her Parents a kiss before leaving.

She had loving parents that supported her every beck and call.

…Well most of the time, but that didn’t matter, she would never let Lila manipulate them ever, her Parents were off-limits.

By the time she arrived at school she was one of the first ones there, Nathaniel in the back drawing his comics, texting Marc as well, it seemed like he was in his own ‘do not disturb’ bubble. Max was talking to Markov about some new type of game, and Rose and Juleka were just cuddling.

She made her way to the back feeling a positive emotion before exhaling.

Because it was about to be ruined.

Lila walked in with Alya, Nino and Adrien by her side.

She was telling a story about her ‘one of a kind cardigan-

Wait-

“My Grandmother made this cardigan especially for me carving her signature on as well, it’s the only one in existence because shortly after she made this, she ended up being in a terrible accident that left her bedridden.” They pandered to her of course. But for once she wasn’t focusing on the lie but the cardigan.

Oh, Lila’s only gone and done it now.

“I’ve always wanted to wear it, but I didn’t want it to end up ruined by someone” Her gaze casually went up to a lone bluenette, but she really wasn’t bothered.

“Don’t worry girl, I’ll keep a watchful eye on your cardigan for you. Ain't nothing gonna come between me and my besties property” They hugged before sitting down in their spaces.

‘Oh my god, I have a plan’ Marinette had that thought circled around her head until break. It was all she thought of.

Mind you, she wasn’t trying to expose everything she’d done, just that one lie. And that would be enough.

As soon as the bell rang, she was ready, she gathered her stuff and rushed home.

And thank god as well, Lila would not shut up about that cardigan, through Literature, Science and PE, it was constantly my Grandmother made it for me this, it’s the only one of its kind that.

Ugh, she wanted to rip her ears out at some point but had to endure it. No one else was bothered since they all believed her, even the teachers!

Yeah, you don’t really need any proof if it was handmade, some of Marinette’s earlier stuff didn’t have her signature on, but still, it was the principle of the matter!

And she could right that wrong.

In her room she was frantically searching for that item as Tikki dodged different articles of clothing, one hit her as she wasn’t looking, and she was down for the count.

“Marinette what are you looking for?” Marinette paused to look back at Tikki before continuing a bit calmer.

“Lila’s been lying about that cardigan and this time I can prove it.” Her eyes lit up as she lifted a cardigan up from her cupboard.

“One of Maman’s friends gave this to me a few years back, it was one of the reasons I got into fashion because of how soft it is and I wanted to replicate that. Don’t you think it looks familiar?” As Tikki looked over it her eyes widened, she knew Lila was lying anyway but she had no idea Marinette had definitive proof of it.

“That’s the same cardigan Lila has!” Marinette nodded before wearing it.

At least it still fit.

“But Marinette I thought we were gonna take the high ground?”

“Tikki it's tiring having to listen to them being lied too. I may not want them to be my friends anymore, but I just want the lying to stop. If I go and tell them that she’s lying with this as evidence they’ll clearly see she’s lying”

“But outing her like that won’t make it better!” Marinette wished she could respond with ‘are you sure’ but didn’t want to piss the mini-god off.

“Fine, what if I just wear it until someone notices, that way I’m not actively looking to publicly shame her? Better?” Tikki gave a reluctant nod, she knew her chosen wouldn’t let up about the situation, besides this whole thing was really just pettiness, nothing too serious. If no one noticed nothing bad would happen.

“Bye Maman, bye Papa” As she began walking back, she grew a bit nervous with her plan.

What if Lila made a whole other lie about her cardigan? What if she lied that Marinette had stolen it out of jealousy and everyone would try to take hers? She’d have to run away and live with a secret identity, all before getting caught and going to prison, and she’d never have her three kids and her hamster named-

“Ahem Marinette, is thou there?” A hand brought her out of her trance

“Ahhh!” She waved her arms before composing herself and seeing D’Argencourt in front of her.

“Ah, yes Monsieur?” How long had he been standing there? How long had she been rambling in her head?

“As I was saying, these new garments of yours, where did they originate from?” It took her a while before realising he was talking about her cardigan, she was so used to wearing her jacket it felt strange she had changed.

“Ohh this, well it was a present from Maman’s friend. They were on sale a few years back, so I thought I’d wear it again” He furrowed his brow before telling her to carry on with whatever she was doing.

“Well, that was weird. Do you think he liked the jacket?” Tikki ponded as her head ever so slightly popped out the small handbag.

“He’s always been weird Tikki. But whatever, let's just get back to the classroom.” All she had to do was wait.

***

‘How the hell hasn’t anyone noticed yet?’ Marinette was secretly fuming in her mind right now. None of her classmates noticed the change in her outfit.

Not one.

Bustier did however, the bluenette was sure because she’d see her teacher quickly glance from Marinette to Lila but never said a word. Probably thinking of that whole, ‘be the bigger person’ crap.

And not even the excuse of maybe Bustier didn’t know, bs. By the time break happened everyone in the school knew about that damn cardigan so don’t get her started.

‘Oh well, looks like that’s it. My petty revenge came flat… At least Lila didn’t pull a Marinette ruined my belongings stunt’ That would’ve been the last thing she needed.

Knock Knock Knock

The door opened before Bustier could reply, a teacher would reprimand a student for this type of rudeness, but it wasn’t a student.

It was a teacher.

And it was Monsieur D’Argencourt.

‘What the-’ Marinette didn’t remember this part of the plan.

“Excuse me Caline, but I need to interrupt the class for an announcement.” Bustier was about to deny but D’Argencourt the stubborn teacher as he was, walked straight on through ignoring whatever Bustier would’ve said.

“Lila Rossi, may you please step in front of the classroom?” Lila looking completely confused let go off Adrien, much to the relief of the boy, and walked in front of her desk.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He didn’t need to repeat the command.

Yes, command not a request.

“Can I ask you where you got your cardigans from?”

“Armand, I don’t think this is appropriate-” He shot a glare back at the teacher.

“I can assure you this won’t take long if I’m not interrupted”

Lila looked over to Marinette and realised with a sinking feeling what was happening. But she would win this time. Just like all the others.

“My Grandmother made this specifically, you see-”

He held a hand up to silence her.

“Yes, that’s quite alright, and Marinette would you like to repeat what you said before?” As Marinette did just that Lila was seething, he cut her off. How dare that simpleton cut off Lila Rossi!

He would pay.

“Well, it appears one of you is lying, and I expect that person to own up to it now” The class gasped as they all looked expectedly at Marinette, they knew she was petty but to do this was so low.

Lila looked at her smugly, she had tried to play with fire but got burned in the process. How could she even think she’d get away with this?

“I was talking about you, Lila Rossi”

“Eh, what?” The class gasped as they tried to say of course Lila was innocent, Marinette was the one lying. Or that Marinette must’ve tricked him.

He shot a glare towards all the class members as they instantly shut up.

“I don’t remember this being a class discussion, if I want your opinion, I will ask for it. Understood?” They nodded before giving sympathetic glances towards the brunette, D’Argencourt almost had the urge to shout at their incompetence but alas they were kids.

“I can tell you why you are lying Lila, with a photo. But as I’m feeling generous, I will give you one more chance to reveal yourself.” The class was silent as they all looked on in anticipation.

But Lila stood her ground defiantly, as if he actually had proof-

Oh…

Oh no she’s doomed…

“Then I don’t suppose this looks familiar? Hmm?” On his phone was a picture. Lila immediately lowered her head, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

3 guesses of what it is?

No.

.

.

No one?

.

.

Too easy?

.

.

Ok, it was the cardigan.

And at a fairly cheap price. No wonder she had it in brand new condition.

“I first knew you were lying once I saw Marinette wear the exact same one, however, hers was clearly worn out, evidently she has worn it for several amount of years. You had already messed up when you said it was the only one made. So please…” Lila looked up to see D’Argencourt giving one of the most frightening glares of the century.

“Don’t ever lie about anything to my face or anyone ever again, you will be court out and I will be keeping an eye on you. Is that final?” She meekly nodded her head, trying to give a frightened appearance to make him have sympathy but he was immune.

“That will be all. I hope your class has learned a valuable lesson of not taking things at face value” And with that, he left. Leaving Marinette with a different impression of her PE teacher, it seemed he didn’t like liars all that much.

Marinette smiled, her plan worked, and she didn’t even out her herself. Tikki surely can’t be mad at her now.

Bustier tried to get the class to go back to normal but she couldn’t. The class erupted into a screaming fit, asking how Lila could lie about that sort of thing?

It wasn’t until someone unexpected said the next few words she wondered if this was a dream.

“Hey if Lila lied about this what else did she lie about? She even said herself she doesn’t lie to her friends but that was a lie” That made the class tick as they soon realised and soon torn into her about it.

Leaving Lila, a ‘sobbing mess’ on the floor. All before she stopped that fake display and arguing back.

But the one who said that…

Was Adrien.

He was able to slip by the crowd and stand next to Marinette.

No words were said, she knew what he would’ve said even without the noise.

‘I’m sorry’

It was a start, and maybe through time, she could start trusting again.

But for now, she just wanted to enjoy this chaos…

.

.

Before there was an Akuma alert.

***

I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt I want more D’Argencourt. I probably screwed his speech but oh well this is salt, doesn’t have to be accurate.

Phew, hope you enjoyed it, sorry its shorter than the others but this happened when I was in Year 5 and I was 9/10 years old. Woo 10 years ago, god that makes me feel old. Also, not everything was exactly this way, the teacher did out the person in front of the whole class, but she admitted it and went back to her class, we had two classes for maths. Anyway, I actually have to give Lila credit compared to the liar we had at our school, this person actually knew I had that cardigan and actually complimented me on it like months earlier and still had the audacity to say that. I think that’s the reason why I think if I was in their world I wouldn’t believe Lila because I already had a Lila at my school who would always say they’ve done the exact same thing as we had (They even said they had the same Aunt as me living on the same street, crazy right). Mind you they never said anything to me, I think they were too embarrassed plus, I was a goody little two-shoes there.

Anyway I really hope you enjoy it and if you like real-life stories so much I can always try to ask my friends for more ideas, I did have like some slightly toxic friends there that I may be able to tell you about but I’ll try to think how later.

Cya next time.

[icedteaandoldlace]

So there’s this “101 Reasons to Ship Snowbarry” video that keeps coming up on my YouTube suggestions. Idgaf about Snowbarry, and I’ve already hit the “not interested” button on similar videos before, but since I can’t seem to get away from video suggestions like this, I’m just gonna watch it and liveblog it, and bet that for every entry on the list, I can come up with a corresponding rebuttal for why Barrisco would make an even better couple. (I’m not gonna comment this ON the video ofc, this is just for my own amusement.)

Click the link above if you want to see the stuff I’ll be responding to, but be forewarned, that video is like, way long, so naturally it follows that this post is gonna be, too.

Additional note: If you are a Snowbarry shipper who has stumbled across this post somehow, now would be the time to stop reading, and also to add the “anti Snowbarry” tag to your filters if you wish to avoid running into posts like this in the future, ‘cause I ain’t interested in engaging in shipping wars.

Anyways, let’s go:

1. "How they met." Cisco woke Barry out of a coma by playing/singing a song about bisexuality, 'nuff said. (Also, part of the purpose of that scene was to introduce Caitlin as the serious, “down to business” one, and Cisco as the warmer, more easygoing one who’s trying to make Barry feel more comfortable.)

2. "They're both scientists." What is Cisco, an Instagram influencer?

3. If Caitlin being Barry’s personal doctor gets her romantic points, then the same should go for Cisco being his personal tailor. Actually, he should get more points, because there’s no moratorium on romantic relationships between tailors and their clients.

4. The way Barry and Cisco gaze into each other's eyes for non-medical purposes. This is too easy.

5. Uh. Cisco being the voice in Barry's ear while he's running, and often the first person he calls out to for help solving a problem.

6. They frequently take hold of each other's hands and shoulders.

7. Cisco comforts Barry while Caitlin tends to his wounds.

8 through 12 is literally just stuff about Caitlin being a doctor, and I don't find this stuff relevant enough to rebut because there's nothing inherently romantic about any of it.

13. "They both have fun together." Yes, Cisco also, the fun having, it happens, lots. Even more, actually.

14. Not really sure what to say for this one. Barry and Cisco noticing when each other is sad and then checking on each other (at Cecile’s baby shower and Barry’s bachelor party, respectively, and also on other occasions), comes to mind. That doesn’t have to do with noticing each other’s lips, per se, but I’ve never thought of either of these SB scenes as moments where Barry was staring at Caitlin’s lips, just as moments where he’s noticing her expression/overall mood, which is something he does with Cisco (and vice versa), too.

15. They all have nerdy hobbies, dude, they're nerds.

16. This one for SB is "she makes Barry drunk on purpose", which, y'know, she did because he wanted to be able to get buzzed, which Cisco has succeeded in helping him do, too (and the drink he made was more effective and longer lasting), but the way this is phrased is kind of suggestive, like Caitlin was doing it to lower his inhibitions (which she totally wasn’t), and uuuuhhhh, don't romanticize that maybe???

17. Cisco put all that tech into Barry's suit, including delivery menus from his favorite restaurants + wrote him an instruction manual, and sped up all his favorite shows so he could catch up on what he missed while he was in the speed force.

18. Barry makes Cisco's (and everyone's) hair fly everywhere when he speeds out of a room, too. Like, this is just basic physics, fam, wyd?

19. Barry also uses his powers to help Cisco. And...literally everyone who needs his help, this is basic superhero stuff, wyd?

20. He is impressed with Cisco, frequently.

21. Just having nicknames? He calls him "bud", "dude", etc., and one time he called him "Cis". (Bonus: Iris and Cisco have called Caitlin "Cait", too, so it’s not just a Ronnie and Barry thing.)

22. Cisco can make anything to help Barry. They're literally top-notch genius scientists, I don't even

23. Obviously they think each other makes great company, they're best friends. All of them.

24. They comfort each other. Again, best friends + Team Flash pep talks are a major staple of the show.

25. He needs Cisco, too.

26. They...they care about...my god, it's like you people have never heard of FRIENDS.

27. Honestly, how many times have we heard Barry tell Cisco he believes in him, or heard Cisco gush about what a great hero Barry is?

28. Helping each other conquer their fears. Yep, that's another one that applies to like, everyone on this show.

29. "They both have experienced loss" IT'S A SUPERHERO SHOW! Also, that's just life. Name one main character on this show who hasn't experienced loss. Nash and Wally have both experienced loss, and I have yet to see anyone ship them.

30. "They both can sing really well." Okay now. This one is true for Barry and Cisco, but uh...Caitlin is literally tone deaf. I'm not being mean, Danielle Panabaker knows good and well that she can't sing, and she has talked about Carlos side-eyeing her when she gets going because she's not good at it. THAT'S OKAY! There's nothing wrong with not being able to sing, but--WHY would you claim that she's good at something that she clearly is not? She wasn't on pitch for a single line of Summer Nights, and she straight up changes keys mid-line in the mockingbird song in that other clip, and just...what even is this entry?!

31. Watching over each other, yeah, another basic staple of being friends and superheroes.

32. "He is always standing behind Caitlin" AND LOOK WHO'S STANDING BESIDE HIM!

33. Remember that time fake Jay "died" and Cisco stayed with Caitlin until she fell asleep? Remember when Dante died and Caitlin slept on Cisco's couch to keep him company? Remember all those times Barry or Cisco were rendered unconscious, and the other stayed by their bedside until they woke up?

34. Basically just a continuation of 33. See above.

35. "Maybe 'okay' will be our 'always'." Hmm, what WOULD Barry and Cisco's "always/okay" be? Probably just calling out each other's names tbh, they do that a lot. Or perhaps, "For real?"

36. Is2g. Being only one call or text away is, again, a staple of the show, considering everyone in it is a close-knit found family and knows there's a very good chance that that call or text might be saying, "I'm in mortal danger, please come save my life at once."

37. Funny, I already pointed out once before (in a different post) the fun parallel of how Caitlin will sometimes go running to whoever her love interest is at the moment, or she'll call out his name, while Cisco is at the same moment running to Barry/calling out for Barry.

Side note: did they really think including Barry's proposal song to Iris would give more weight to their why-to-ship-Snowbarry argument?

38. I mean...Barry kind of carries everyone everywhere. You don't really get to see it, but how the heck else do you explain all the times he whooshes people in and out of places? He can't just drag them, otherwise the soles of their shoes would either wear down fast or catch on fire.

39. Okay, no shade to Barry and Caitlin's friendship, and some of these moments are really great, but generally speaking, their hugs do not compare to the ones that either of them has with Cisco. Also, note the group hug scene, conveniently cut off before Cisco joins in, because unlike the Romione + Harry hug in the Prisoner of Azkaban movie, there's no way to interpret it as a third wheel/cockblocking moment, because the moment Cisco declares it a group hug moment, Barry and Caitlin both agree, and you can see it on their faces that they are delighted, and think that Cisco joining in their hug has just made it even BETTER.

40. Henry gladly accepts a hug from Caitlin, immediately after laughing at Cisco's awkward moment and giving him a fatherly reassuring pat on the shoulder. I think it's safe to say he approves of all of Team Flash.

41. Oh look, another thing Barry and Cisco and multiple other characters do.

Good god, I'm not even halfway through this yet. This is like that time I tried to climb Diamond Head.

42. Ah, superhero poses, yes. That thing that...superheroes...do. Like, all of the ones on this show. And in general.

43.  "They begin to resemble each other." They're just white, fam. OH MY GOD, I SOMETIMES TAKE MY SUNGLASSES OFF WITH ONE HAND, TOO! OT3 MUCH????? 😱 Lol what even??

44. How many times throughout this video am I gonna have to repeat that everyone on this show has these moments? Also, speaking in unison with someone because you had prior knowledge of what they were going to say due to yourself or someone else time traveling, is not the same as being in sync with them because you’re close. (He said “Weather Wizard” at the same time as Cisco, too.)

45. Idk what to even say to this one. Like, Iris is obviously the love of Barry's life, and Cisco is obviously his favorite best friend and the person he would be with if he didn’t have Iris.

46. *John Mulaney voice* AND THEN THEY DIDN'T! Seriously, though, both of the people they were trying to get over were perfect for them. I don't have a Barrisco specific rebuttal for this one though.

47. So by this video's logic, that one scene from 4x03 means that Barry, Harry, and Cisco should be a threesome, huh?

48. "I did it because it gave me an excuse to bring him back."

49. .................is this even an argument?

50. They're both good looking people, darling.

51. Wrong, sir. They fight like siblings. Trust me on this one, I have six of them.

52. Trauma response. I'm moving away from Barrisco arguments and just saying the first thing that pops into my head now. But seriously, this is a normal reaction to trauma/loss.

53. *Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh* I'm not even gonna say it this time, you already know.

54. Again, have you people ever had anyone in your life that you cared about, ever? I'm starting to get concerned, honestly. But for the sake of bringing Barrisco back into this, hey, remember that time Barry and Caitlin both got kidnapped on the same night and Cisco was completely beside himself?

55. This is getting out of hand.

56. Pretty sure dating Caitlin didn't even make the list for Barry's reasons to dislike Jay and Julian (also, he liked Ronnie, the guy she loved the most, so...)

57. Judging Barry for being a dumbass + helping an exposed girl out =/= jealousy. Granted, there was some jealousy in that last clip, but not because Iris got the man; it was because Barry was all set to live happily ever after while Caitlin was, y'know, struggling with powers she didn't want and another person living in her head that kept fighting her for control of her body.

58. Refer to season 1 episode 2, wherein Cisco is the person helping Barry from the beginning, and Caitlin asserts that she is on Joe's side when he tells Barry what a stupid and reckless idea trying to be a superhero is.

59 + 60. "Let's bring our boy home." / "Let's go get our girl." Do I need to cite either quote?

61. Again I ask, did a human make this list?

62. Don't make me tap the sign.

63. One word: Elseworlds.

64. If you'll scroll waaaaaaaaaaay up there, I already covered that Barry and Cisco hold hands A LOT.

65. Oooh, I made a meme about this one! Not after watching this video, I just see SBers say this all the time, and it drives me crazy.

I used this in my Snowbarry fandom drama presentation for my squad’s presentation party a while back.

Side note: ~INTERESTING~ how Caitlin being a doctor is ““romantic”” when she’s treating Barry but ““motherly”” when she’s treating Cisco. I can’t even.

66. ......I’m sorry, I’m just not seeing how the dramatic irony of them stating that Killer Frost will never be a problem on Earth-1 is pertinent to shipping them as a couple.

67. Hannibal Bates and Caitlin are perfect for each other? Weird take, but okay. Oh, and there Caitlin is trying to freeze Barry to death. Wasn’t there a point somewhere up there about her never wanting him to get hurt?

Side note: Hey, what’s the name of that guy who saved Barry in this scene?

68. Bruh, that’s just her dynamic with everyone that season.

69. Barry and Iris, Barry and Cisco, Cisco and Caitlin, Cisco and Harry, Caitlin and Killer Frost, Cisco and Killer Frost--just naming some duos that are more iconic than Barry and Caitlin. Again, no shade to their friendship--I really like them as friends!--but the shippers stay making it out to be more than it really is.

I also just have to point out that although Killer Frost was the one who willingly teamed up with Savitar/whom Savitar sought out first, when she comments on their team up and says it’s “Barry and Caitlin together again”, his response is to point out that she’s not Caitlin and he’s not Barry. In contrast, when he takes Cisco against his will and forces him to modify the speed force bazooka, he still refers to Cisco as his best friend.

70. Make up your mind, does Savitar count as Barry in this or not? Because he totally grabbed Caitlin by the throat once.

71. I don’t know how to break this to you, but not enjoying it when someone is in pain is just being normal. (Do I even need to point out Cisco’s empathetic cringing compared to Barry’s looks of mild discomfort, or...?)

At some point this went from being about Barrisco to being about Cisco being the favorite friend to both of them, idk.

72. He. Is. Literally. A. Superhero.

73. Man, what did I JUST say? Also, can we just acknowledge the build up to Crisis on Infinite Earths for a second, wherein Frost very quickly accepts that Barry is supposed to die in order to save everyone else, while Cisco has infinite crises of his own at the idea of having to accept Barry’s death--which, I might add, he never actually does? Neither does Iris, for that matter. They tried to accept it, and they thought they did, but they didn’t really.

74. Oh fuck it, just read 73 again.

75. Okay, what even is this one? Two scenes where they are not present for each other’s “deaths” and thus don’t react to them, meanwhile Cisco is devastated in both of them?

76. Same thing I’ve already said several times before.

77. How many times do I gotta point out that this is a superhero show?

78. Just really trying hard to find enough reasons to make this list 101, huh? (What is Firestorm, chopped liver?)

79. Because violence = chemistry apparently. Wasn’t there another entry about how they can never hurt each other or something?

80. I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the vibrating hand that shredded Cisco’s heart before either of those scenes happened.

81. It’s like SBers think they’re the only two characters on the entire show.

82. I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over all the other vibrating hands triggering Cisco at least once per season. But sure, Barry and Caitlin are the only two who know suffering.

83. Two words: Flashpoint. Dante. Also, not seeing how this one is romantic.

84. That’s just a Caitlin/Frost thing, fam, it only happened to Barry because he got whammied by Prism, who caused the same effect in everyone else he whammied. (Cisco’s eyes turned purple once when he got hypnotized.)

85. Please. I beg of you. Get friends. Interact with a human person.

Side note: “I trust you” was almost what I put for Barrisco’s “always/okay”.

86. “Don’t call me that. I don’t know you, string bean.” / “I don’t know who you think you are, but around here, people call me Mr. Ramon.” / “The name is Vibe.” (Again, romance where?)

87. Kinda like how Mirror Iris and Mirror Kamilla have slightly dressier tastes than Real Iris and Real Kamilla.

88. ....Anyways, Vibe........

89. The first time because Cisco saved him, the second time because she froze him just enough to fool Grodd, not enough to actually kill him. (Again I say, what is Firestorm?)

90. So romance. Very love. Much relationship.

91. ANYWAYS, CISCO. (And uh, hello, IRIS???? Joe? Harry?)

92. See 88.

93. This one might be a fun ship parallel if Caitlin had actually been involved in Barry’s brain zapping, but instead it’s just like, “here’s two random scenes that are kinda similar in completely insignificant ways”, like the evil clothes thing a few entries back.

94. Another entry that just demonstrates that their one-on-one moments together, while good, just don’t compare to either of their one-on-one moments with Cisco. I can’t be the only person who sees this.

95 + 96 + 97. I can’t muster up enough interest in any of these shows to watch them all the way through. Is this supposed to impress me?

98 + 99 + 100. The only point this proves is that they have multiple ship names. (I thought their evil ship name was Savifrost?)

101. Mm, sorry, sweetheart, Westallen, Barrisco, and Snowstorm all have them beat in this category.

This post really got away from me, at this point idk what I’m even doing, but I went on too long to stop now.

Oh, shit, there’s a bonus round.

Honestly, I fail to see how a lot of these supposedly “match”? But as for the ones that do, that’s just your basic TV aesthetics, I forget the official name for it. They’re matchy-matchy with Cisco in some of those shots, too, because TV matchy color psychology whatever. It’s a whole thing, every TV show and movie does it.

If anyone actually followed along this far, congratulations on your attention span, my brain could never. Idk how to end this post because it strayed so far from my original intent and basically just turned into a Snowbarry Fandom Doesn’t Make Sense Presentation 2.0

You know, I like to try not to generalize and stuff, and I’d like to think that maybe not all SBers are racist and that some people genuinely just like the ship because they think that makes sense or something, but then I look at their reasons for shipping it, and it’s just the dang blandest thing I ever did see, and they have to reach so far when they try to explain why they think they’re the best “couple” on the show and just??? I am the queen of shipping friends who never get together romantically, but Barry and Caitlin just don’t got it, son. Tbh part of the show’s appeal to me is the fact that there’s no threat of Caitlin ever getting with either of her male bffs in that way, because Cisco is like her brother, and getting with Barry just wouldn’t make sense. It just befuddles me to no end that they are such a wildly popular ship and not a rare pair, because the way their relationship is in canon is just exactly the way it should be.

That’s it, I guess. I’ve already invested this much time in this, so I might as well post it.

Also, please don’t anybody try to start anything in the comments section of this video, this fandom has enough drama as it is.

[crystalwillow]

Truly. Madly. Deeply. - Ethan x F!MC

Tagging a few people in this one: @vibrantlyjaz @tsrookie @schnitzelbutterfingers @queencarb @mrsvanderlinde  

As the sun rose the next morning after they returned back to Boston, Ethan awoke as the sun streamed through the skylight above his bed, he smiled at Casey as he registered her sleeping peacefully next to him. Looking at the time on the clock he let out a small sigh. It was time to leave the blissfulness he had been feeling for the past two weeks, and go back to the chaotic world of Edenbrook. Gently he rubbed Casey's arm stirring her awake a little. "Cassie? We need to get up and ready to go back to work now." he whispered tenderly and was met with a tired groan in response to which he chuckled. "I know. I feel that way too. You've made me feel happier and open up more than I have with or to anyone in the past two weeks. I kind of hate you for reminding me what true happiness feels like. But the reasons I love you outweigh that one so..." he mumbled and kissed behind her ear softly. "Ethan..." she murmured, reaching for his hair and tangling her fingers in it gently. "Come on. Let's grab a shower." he smiled as he got up, pulling a sleepy Casey with him.

"You're going to have to open your eyes at some point in the next 5 minutes."

"No. Ethan's a comfy pillow. I'm tired."

"Casey.." he chuckled as he washed her body

"Shhhhhhhhh"

Shaking his head with a smile, he somehow managed to wash Casey's hair and himself before stepping out and wrapping towels around both of them. By the time Casey had woken up properly, Ethan was dressed in his usual formal wear for the hospital, but there was something different about him. Casey looked at his side profile as he riffled through his wardrobe looking for something. "I do believe you accidently left- ah! Here it is." he beamed as he turned back to Casey, his favourite knee length blue dress of her's in hand. "What?" he asked at the quizzical look on Casey's face as she studied him curiously. That's when it clicked. It wasn't his clothes, hair or anything like that which was different. He was smiling a genuine smile. His trademark scowl had gone, along with the wrinkles that normally accompanied the look. "I love you." Casey grinned happily, "I love you too. Now hurry up and get dressed or you'll be late." Ethan said as he gave her a quick kiss before heading to the kitchen. When he came back, he left some toast and orange juice on the dresser for her, explaining that he was going to leave now as so to avoid any suspicion that would arise from arriving with Casey by his side.

"... So I'll leave you to lock up the front door yeah?"

"Yeah sure. ... Ethan?"

"Cinnamon roll."

"When are you picking Jenner up from the kennels?"

"Why?"

"Because your apartment feels empty without him."

"... Yeah... it does. I was hoping to get him after my shift tomorrow. I finish just after lunch."

"But that means you're working all morning today. Having a late nap in the on-call room and working all night."

"You know me and my work ethic too well. It's scary sometimes. ... Did you not want to meet me there? We could get him together. I'm sure he's missed you more than me anyway. You seem to have a knack of getting guys to stare at you and love you more than others."

"Honey... are you.. jealous of .. your dog?"

".. ha! When you put it like that it does sound ridiculous."

"Ethan Ramsey, I cannot believe you're jealous that your dog likes my cuddles."

"Well he used to love mine.. but you stole him from me."

Casey looked up from the mirror as she smoothed out the creases in her dress and laughed at the pout on Ethan's face. Walking over to him, she wrapped her arms round his neck, tilting his head so that she could see him properly. He smiled at her lovingly before giving her a quick kiss. "I guess I should get going before I'm the one who's late." he chuckled and gave Casey a few more pecks before he left out the door. "Oh! ETHAN!" Casey called out, opening the door and sticking her head out in the hallway, catching him at the end, just about to turn the corner. Damn this man and his giraffe legs. "Can I put my stuff in here from the car and pick it up later?" she called out, "Yeah sure!" he replied and with a wave he was gone. After moving the bags from her car into Ethan's apartment, Casey made sure she had the spare key she had been given and left, making sure to lock the door behind her. She drove most of the way to work, parking a couple blocks away and walking the rest of the distance. When she arrived, she stepped through the doors into the main atrium taking a deep inhale as a smile grew on her face. "Man it's good to be back." she said with a smile as she walked to her locker and started with her day. She crossed paths with Ethan a couple of times in halls, giving him a smile which he returned. Soon she stopped seeing him a knew he had gone to catch some sleep, and had clocked out before he woke up. She had just finished unpacking her bags in her room when her phone chimed with a text notification.

- 10:43PM –

Ethan: Didn't wanna stick around and say goodbye to me?

Casey: You were sleeping

Ethan: So? I wanted to see you before you left.

Casey: stop your pouting, E

Ethan: I didn't even..

Casey: I make it a habit to know my boyfriend inside out

Ethan: is that so... 😉

Casey: Get your mind outta the gutter Ethan xD

You have work to do. Which you should probably get back to, by the way..

Ethan: Yes ma'am.

Casey: God you're whipped..

Ethan: I'm what?

Chuckling to herself, she shook her head a little placing her phone on charge before going to the kitchen and fixing herself some food before heading to bed. The next day she spent her morning reading some old revision cards to keep her mind sharp on medical knowledge and before she knew it was leaving out the door and heading to work. She was halfway through her shift when her phone dinged in the back pocket of her jeans as she was talking with a patient. Once she was done, she stepped out into the hallway, taking her phone out and unlocking it as she closed the door behind her. She chuckled at the message Ethan had sent her, then aww'd at the next message that popped up. It was a picture of Jenner in his bed, looking sadly at the camera. She sent a quick reply and then pocketed her phone returning back to work.

Things slowly started to feel normal again as she got back into the fast pace things moved around the hospital with ease, and soon almost three months had passed since she got back from her parents house with Ethan. She hadn't seen him in a couple of days but that was normal, he was a busy in-demand man after all. One day she was standing in a small queue in the cafeteria when Dr. Harper Emery approached her. Concealing the eye roll she wanted to do so badly, she put on a professional smile as the woman stood in front of her.

"Dr. Valentine."

"Dr. Emery."

"I have a question for you."

""Uhh. Okay?"

"You're friends with Dr. Ramsey yes?"

"We have a friendship, yes."

"I see. So you'd have his personal phone number?"

"What's it to you?"

"Do you have his personal phone number? Yes or no, Dr. Valentine."

"I don't see why I should tell you, quite frankly. Not after the stunts you've been pulling trying to ruin the friendship we have."

"Look. He hasn't shown up for work in two weeks and he isn't answering his house phone or his work number. We've tried almost every phone in the hospital, which numbers he may pick up but nothing. You're our last hope to knowing where he is and why he isn't at work."

".... Okay, fine. Yes, I have his personal number. I'll give him a call and see where he is."

"Thank you, Dr. Valentine. Find me later to report on his status."

"Yeah. Fine."

Casey sighed and moved forwards in the line, frowning a little as harper stalked off, heels clicking on the tiled floor. She purchased her snack and a bottle of water, making her way outside and pulling her phone out as she sat on a wall. Unlocking her phone she dialed Ethan's number straight away and waited anxiously as it rang.

".... You've reached the voicemail of Ethan Ramsey. Sorry I cannot take your call right now. Leave a message after the tone."

Sighing she hung up and tried again. But every time she tried she always ended up getting his voicemail. Sighing and with a sudden loss in her appetite, she pocketed her phone before scooping up her cookie and bottle of water. Heading back inside to finish her shift. As the end of her shift drew closer and closer, she made a mental note to stop by Ethan's and check on him. She may not like Harper, but she had to agree that this wasn't like Ethan at all. He always informed the hospital if he was going to be late or off sick. Anything, he always picked up the phone and called the people who needed to know. As she was getting ready to head off, one of the nurses approached her. "Dr. Valentine! I'm so glad I found you." she said breathlessly, "What's wrong? Has my patient gone into cardiac arrest again?!" Casey panicked, but the nurse shook her head. "I was wondering if you could cover the last hour of my shift? I just got a call from my neighbor that my house has been broke into and the police need me there ASAP." she explained. Casey swallowed, she needed to check on Ethan, but this was important too. Smiling she turned to the nurse. "Of course. You head on home. I hope everything's okay. Let me know if you need anything." she responded, and the nurse thanked her before running off. The hour passed by slowly as Casey watched the clock on the wall opposite the nurses station. Soon the nurse that was to take over arrived and Casey clocked out. She headed outside on the phone, calling for a cab. Arriving at Ethan's apartment building a few moments later, she paid her fare and scrambled inside as fast as she could. She reached Ethan's door and knocked first, waiting for the door to open but 2 minutes quickly turned into 10. Which soon turned into almost an hour. Having enough, Casey took the spare key to his apartment from her bag and slowly opened the door, walking in to a mess of takeout cartons and bottles covering the floor. "E-Ethan?" she called out hesitantly, walking further into the apartment. "Honey? Are you... Home." Her voice trailed off as she entered the kitchen and saw Ethan slumped in a chair, head on the counter with his eyes closed. A glass of whiskey next to his hand. She quietly moved the glass and sat next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Ethan.. Sweetie. What're you doing sleeping here in the kitchen? ... E?" she said softly as she continued trying to wake him and when he awoke, he startled at her presence. "W-what are you d-doing here? How.. How did you get in?" He exclaimed leaping up and away from her. She frowned at him. Something was definitely off here.

"Ethan it's okay. I'm here to make sure you're okay. Like all good girlfriends do."

"G-girlf-friend?"

"Yeah. We've been dating for almost 3 and a half months now. ...Ethan? Are.. Are you okay?"

She watched him cautiously as he looked at her, panic rising in his eyes and becoming more intense by the minute, until he eventually started shaking his head causing Casey to frown.

"Baby, what's wrong? You can talk to me."

"Y-You.. You're going to hate me. I-I can't lose you Casey. Please!"

The pleading in his voice and desperation that was now mixed in with the panic in his eyes pulled at her heart. He was in so much distress and what was he on about she was going to hate him. Knowing she had to calm him down, she stood up from her seat and slowly moved towards him.

"Honey.. I know you're scared right now but take deep breaths for me okay? I'm not going to hate you. I never could. ... We've talked about this remember? We'll support each other through everything. Regardless of whether or not we're together. ..Do you trust me?"

She stopped a few inches in front of him, looking up into his eyes with nothing but kindness and the want to care for him. Finally he rushed into her arms, hugging her tight as he sobbed into the shoulder of her jacket. She hugged him back trying to slowly the violent shakes of his body that accompanied the sobs leaving his mouth. But it was no use, this man was a wreck, the only thing she didn't know though was why?

Moving with Ethan to his couch, she sat down with him handing him a tissue from the box on the coffee table. Together they cuddled and Casey held him until he had exhausted his tears, and his throat was raw. When he looked up at her, she felt a sharp pang in her chest at the red circles round his eyes and the sadness that was in them. She wanted so badly to ask what was wrong but decided it was better to let him speak when he was ready. Remembering the unopened bottle of water in her bag, she took it out and gave it to him. "Here. Drink this." she said softly, "Th-Thank y-you." He hiccupped, sitting up as he took it, opening it to take a gulp before laying down in Casey's lap. A few more moments of silence passed as Ethan sniffled and coughed a few times. Then he turned on his back and looked up at Casey, swallowing hard.

"Are you okay?"

"No. I won't be for a while."

"Why?! Baby, what's happened? I've never seen you this upset before."

"I- It's Jenner.."

"What about him?"

"He's gone Casey... All because I was careless, and almost tripped over a plant pot, so I got distracted. ... Casey he got off his leash and ran into the road. I had to pay for him to be put down. He-He's gone."

Casey went numb at his words, but it wasn't Jenner being gone that got to her. He was blaming himself. She hugged him again as he sat more upright and whispered that things would be okay again soon. Ethan looked at her with a frown.

"Why aren't you shouting? You weren't there to say goodbye to him with me. You should be mad. Casey why aren't you mad?"

"Ethan. Why would I be mad at you? You were obviously in a state of shock after everything that happened. Plus, being mad would solve nothing, it would only hurt you more and I don't want to hurt you darling. I want to support you and make you smile, even if you don't want to. I love you Ethan and that's never going to change. I don't want you to be alone through anything. Especially something like this. You've lost your best friend that you'd known how long?"

"Almost 15 years. It would have been 15 years on September 4th."

"September 4th?"

"Yeah. I remember picking him up from the rescue shelter as just a little clumsy puppy. His ears flopped about like curtains in a strong breeze and he had the cutest of smiles on his face. When I held him for the first time after getting home he done nothing but lick my face and hit away anything that took my attention from him. Loose papers with medical notes on them were shredded to bits if I left the room for even 2 seconds. He was so adventurous, I done a lot of exploring with him in those days. But as he got older, he became more and more like me."

"What? Permanently scowling and calling any new dog a rookie even when they helped him save a woman's life on their first day at work?"

"I didn't know you then. You were just another annoying face in the crowd."

"Another ann- ETHAN!"

"What?! You were annoying. But only because I could see you had the potential to match my skills or be even better than me and I felt threatened."

"... Wow. Ethan Ramsey was threatened by a first day resident? That's got to be a first."

They chuckled quietly. The air almost felt lighter for a brief moment before their faces fell serious again.

"You know. September 4th is tomorrow. We should do something together in Jenner's honor. He wouldn't want his dad to be moping around the house, with takeout containers littering the floor, ignoring his work and what he's vouched to do for others. He'd want you to drag your butt to the shower, put on your best 'what seems to be the problem today?' face and continue to make good memories that you can share when you see him again."

"Casey..."

There was still pain in Ethan's eyes as he spoke and the strain in his voice killed her inside, but deep down he knew she was right. Jenner wouldn't want him in the current state he was in. Every day when he saw a speeding car the images of that day would come back to him somehow, but he couldn't let that stop him from his work.

"By the way, Ethan."

"Yeah?"

"You should probably go and get that shower. You stink."

"Is that so huh? Cinnamon bun. Is that so?"

The two laughed and wrestled with each other as Ethan tried to shove his armpit in Casey's face. The carried on playfighting for a while before Ethan headed to the shower and Casey grabbed a black bag, picking up his rubbish and cleaning his living room up. She was almost done when she reached Jenner's bed. With a sad smile and tears stinging her eyes, she crouched down and made it up just how he always had it, placing it by the sliding door. "He always was a sucker for looking out at beautiful views." Ethan said as he lent against the doorframe between his bedroom and the living room. Casey turned around and looked at him. "Oh. Uh I hope you don't mind that I..." she said gesturing to the dog bed and Ethan just shook his head with a small smile in his lips. "No. it's fine. I wasn't able to bring myself to do it because it was too... painful." he grimaced as he crossed the room to the couch, taking a seat and patting the spot next to him. Casey smiled and sat next to him.

"Why don't you come and stay with me for a few days?"

"I couldn't. You already live with 4 other people."

"So? Ethan.. You need to be around people who care for you right now. Not festering in here alone."

"But Casey..."

"No buts. You're coming with me okay? We all care for you. Yes, Jackie and Aurora have emotions too. Don't look so surprised."

"There's no getting out of this, is there?"

"Look at you. Putting those smarts to good use."

"And what do you put to good use?"

"My ass. I hustle 24/7 baby."

They looked at each other before bursting out in laughter, falling on top of each other. As the laughter died down, Ethan looked up at Casey hovering over him and swallowed.

"How are you so beautiful?"

"The same way I got lucky with you."

"Casey..."

"Ethan..."

They were about to kiss when Casey's phone rang, completely ruining the mood. With a sigh she sat up and dug through her bag, picking out her phone and answering it.

"Hel- Oh it's you. Hello Harper. Yes I called him. No he didn't answer. ... I'm debating on whether to cook a beef steak or a chicken steak for dinner. Why would I have a- You what?! That's stalking! I can have you done for that! I don't care if you're at home now! No Harper. You can- WE'RE FRIENDS. I'm outside his apartment door. I've been here for hours now. Well, one of his neighbor's let me use their bathroom. I'm a human with bodily fluids that need to be released you know. Because he isn't answering his door. You know I'm going to the police. I'm not comfortable with your actions. I'm going to the police and then I'm taking this to the board. You may give up on your friends Dr. Emery, but I don't. No. You don't get to dicta-" Casey shouted into her phone and then looked at it in disbelief as the line went dead. "That... That BITCH!" she shouted, throwing her phone back in her bag. "Hey. What happened? What did she want?" Ethan asked as he gently took Casey's hands in his own larger ones. "She fucking followed me here! Waited outside for 55 minutes then followed me up. I hope you have a nice neighbor who would be happy to cover for me because I wasn't out there when she passed, I just lied to her. I swear. It's like she doesn't want you to be happy!" she rambled on furiously and Ethan's eyes softened at her worry for him. "Look why don't I go and pack a bag, you call a for taxi and we'll go back to yours. You're right that I need to get out of here for a couple of days." he smiled softly, and Casey nodded with a small okay. After giving her a kiss on the forehead he went back to his room, and sorted out his things for the next few days, packing anything he would need into a backpack before joining Casey in the living room.

"Hey, Cassie. Are you okay? You're doing that thing where you chew your lip again."

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. I'm fine. The taxi's on it's way. We should go wait outside."

"After you."

Together they made their way outside and they waited for the taxi to pull up. When they arrived at Casey's Elijah and Aurora occupied the couches and gave the two puzzled looks as Casey turned round from closing the door. "Uh Casey?" Elijah asked, gesturing between her and Ethan. "You go head to my room. I'll catch them up to speed okay babe?" she said to Ethan as she pushed herself onto her tiptoes, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Ethan return her kiss and then Casey joined her friends as Ethan went to her room.

"So. Um.. You both know Ethan's been missing from work for a couple of weeks right?..." Casey started and told them everything that happened, Aurora scowling when Casey mentioned what her aunt had done, with regards to following Casey to Ethan's apartment. "That sounds exactly like something she would do." Aurora commented with disgust but her facial expression softened when Ethan came back into the room. He looked around awkwardly as if not knowing where to sit. Casey patted the space between herself and Aurora and he took a seat, cuddling close to Casey, and Elijah smiled at him in his usual friendly manner.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need Dr. Ramsey."

"Thank you doctor..."

"Greene."

"Right. Dr. Greene. Thank you."

The two men nodded at each other curtly before Ethan settled back on the couch with Casey, Aurora and Elijah made their way to their room a few minutes later leaving the two others to cuddle on the couch before heading to bed.

The next morning Casey woke up before Ethan who was kicking his legs, whimpering in pain next to her. She was about to cuddle him when he suddenly bolted upright. "Jenner! NO!" he shouted, breathing and sweating heavily with tears streaming down his face. Next to him Casey pulling him to her chest, kissing his temple gently and rubbing his back. "Hey. Shhhhh, it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. I'm here okay?" Casey cooed softly to calm him down whilst stroking his hair. She smiled to herself at how cute it was that this had always calmed him down. She remembers him telling her a story from his early teen years, where his father stroked his hair until he fell asleep because he was stressed over a test. Then she giggled to herself as she looked down at him, knowing it was something he'd never grow too old for or tired of.

"What's got you giggling?"

"It's just.. I find it cute that at 37 this still calms you."

"Well it is soothing."

They mumbled between each other until it was time for Casey to get up. After she had showered and gotten ready for work, she waited for Ethan in the kitchen with Sienna, Elijah and Jackie, cooking breakfast for them to scoff down before having to run out of the door. When Ethan came through, everyone gave him a weird stare.

"What are you all looking at me like that for?"

"Uh D-Dr. Ramsey your uhhh..." Jackie stammered

"Well um..." Elijah trailed off going back to his food

"Honey... are you feeling okay?" Casey said as she got up and walked over to him.

"I'm feeling as good as I can be."

"Okay well um.. I'm just going to go ahead and tell you that.."

She swallowed the leftover pieces of food in her mouth as she gestured for him to lean down and she whispered into his ear, "Your bottom half is naked."

Ethan looked down and his eyes widened in horror.

"Dr. Greene, Dr. Trinh, Dr. Varma. I am so sorry. I ah..." he apologized blushing profusely

"It's okay babe. Just go finish getting ready yeah?"

"Y-Yes. Of course."

Ethan covered himself with his hand and quickly returned to Casey's room to finish getting dressed. Later they were all at work when Casey pager beeped as she worked next to Ethan and Baz trying to solve a case. Peering at her pager, she rolled her eyes and groaned a little at the message. "Dr. Valentine?" Ethan said colder than intended as he looked at her from his desk. "Sorry. I've got to go. I've been summoned by the deeeeeelightful former chief of medicine, Dr. Emery." she smiled as Baz looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "What did you say delightful like that for?" Baz asked. "Long story." Casey and Ethan said together. "Ookay then.." Baz commented and then got back to work with his research as Casey left the room. When she reached Harper's office, she knocked on the door and was invited in.

"What do you want?"

"I think you know what I want. Casey."

"Actually. You're right. I do. And it. is. not. happening."

"Oh Casey. You're mistaken. It will happen. Or I'll put your whole relationship on blast."

Casey swallowed harshly as she looked at the photo Harper slapped on the desk in front of her. For a brief moment in time she felt like she'd lost control but then she hardened her resolve and looked Harper coldly in the eyes.

"It won't. Ethan is a friend and a colleague. And like I said to you yesterday. I DON'T. GIVE UP. ON MY... FRIENDS."

And with that Casey stomped out of Harper's office back to the diagnostics room, gathered her stuff and stomped down to the cafeteria to be alone in her corner and continue her research. Ethan frowning at her in confusion as she left the room. Later that down Casey was lounging on the couch at home when there was a knock on the door, with an annoyed groan she got up and answered it to find Ethan standing there.

"Oh hi. I forgot you didn't have a key. Sorry. I should've waited for you."

"No it's okay. I've been dealing with a PITA."

"Lucky you!"

They shared a chuckle at Casey's sarcastic tone as they sat down on the couches. Well Casey laying back on the one she got up from and Ethan occupying the other. He watched her carefully and noticed the way her brows were pulled together in annoyance and anger but then he noted the sadness and pain in her eyes.

"What's up, my little cinnamon bun?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Casey."

"I'm fine Ethan really. You should go change. I promised we'd do something for Jenner today, so let's head out before it gets too late to do anything."

"If you insist..."

Ethan got up with a sigh and made his way to Casey's room to change before returning to the living room and sitting back in his previous spot.

"ready?"

"I am."

"Then let's go."

Casey got up and put her sunglasses on before grabbing her keys and opening the door, but Ethan didn't move.

"Well let's move then, Ethan."

"Something's happe-"

"NOTHING. Has happened. Can we please just... go, before I change my mind."

With a sigh Ethan got up and walked outside, Casey following him, shutting and locking the door behind him. He went to hold her hand, but she stuffed the in her jeans pockets and walked ahead of him, taking a left and descending the and out main door of the apartment block. He felt hurt at her actions but tried to conceal it as he knew something must have happened at the hospital. She wasn't usually ever this cold with him. She'd always been warm and welcoming. Casey stopped a taxi and got in the front, leaving Ethan to sit by himself in the back as they went to their destination. When they got there, a small smile tugged at Ethan's lips as he noted the sign at the front of Jenner's favourite park. Casey paid the fare and they walked into the park, Casey's hands still permanently stuffed in her pockets as she walked a few paces ahead of Ethan. He stopped in his tracks causing her to stop and turn around, looking at him in annoyance that he'd stopped.

"Something's happened, and I'm not taking another step with you Casey, until you tell me what it is. and don't deny anything, you're not holding my hand. You're about 5 paces ahead of me, and you're being cold towards me which isn't you. So, what is it?"

"Nothi-"

"No! Don't give me that bullshit Casey Jane Valentine."

Sighing Casey turned her head and continued walking so he wouldn't see her hardened resolve crumble, but she eventually broke out into a run. "Casey!" Ethan shouted and broke out in a run to chase her. Somewhere along the way she'd turned down a trail and ran behind a tree. She was now sitting on the grass area surrounding it as she sobbed what felt like a million tears. She knew Ethan and Harper had a history together but why she being punished for him breaking things off with her? Why did Harper hate her? As her thoughts raced faster in her head, it got too much and she screamed into the void around her before laying on the ground feeling defeated, loud sobs emanating from her throat as she hugged herself for comfort. She felt so alone. Like such a bitch for treating the man she loved so coldly just to try and prove that they were 'only good friends' and that's when it dawned on her. She couldn't do this secret relationship thing anymore. She and Ethan either had to let everyone know and risk their jobs. Or it was going to be over for them.

As Ethan's feet pounded along the pavement to catch up with Casey, it took everything in him to not let the tears that stung his eyes, fall out and down his face. He had to give it to her when it came to running, she was the fastest person he knew, but he slowed to a stop as they turned onto the trail, bending over to catch his breath, supporting himself with his hands resting on his knees. He'd just stood upright again after catching his breath when he heard an all too familiar scream of pain that shook him to his core, as the worst scenario rushed into his mind. Casey had just been murdered by someone on the trail who was waiting in the shadows for the perfect victim. Adrenaline took over his veins once more, and he sprinted through the trail in search for his girlfriend. He was sure whatever had gotten her to act like this had to have been caused by Harper because she'd been in a super weird mood after going to her office after being paged. When he found Casey she was still laying in the grass sobbing so hard it was painful to watch, he approached her but didn't step on the grass just yet. "Cinnamon roll? Can I sit with you?" he asked, a little more hopefulness in his voice than he had intended to be there, sighing when he got no response. Pain coursing through him as he watched Casey there in the grass crying. He approached her and crouched down next to her, wrapping his arms round her shuddering frame tentatively, bracing to be rejected but sighed into her hair, pulling her close as she wrapped her arms round his torso, burying her head in the crook of his neck. "It's okay. I'm here for you." he soothed softly as he rubbed her back comfortingly. After a while Casey's sobs subsided and they made there way off of the trail holding hands. As they came upon the park café Casey had planned to take Ethan to, she let out a deep sigh, looking at the ground.

"What's the matter?"

"Can we... talk about it late? I-"

"Hey. Of course. That's fine."

"Thank you. I just want to eat now. And celebrate Jenner's life with you."

With a soft smile, Ethan opened the door to the café, and they took a seat inside, their usual drink order being brought over almost straight away, and they thanked the kind old lady who had become somewhat of a friend to them over the past year since Casey started joining Ethan in walking Jenner. They placed the order for their food, and made small talk whilst they ate it, before they left, Ethan headed to the bathrooms, and Casey went to the counter to talk to the kind old woman, who smiled at her with a fondness only a grandmother would.

"Hello dear. Was everything to your liking today?"

"It was outstanding as always Margret"

"Oh good. I'm glad. ... Now I would notice that look anywhere. What can I do for you darling?"

"Well, you see, the thing is. Ethan... he um... he had to have Jenner put to sleep after he got into an accident with a car. Today marks the 15th year since he brought him home from the rescue shelter and I'm helping Ethan remember him in the best ways possible. I don't suppose you have any of those biscuits he always liked spare, do you?"

"Oh of course I do my sweet. You know I always would keep one safe for the rascal."

Margret walked to the back and returned a few moments later, passing her the biscuit just as Ethan rejoined Casey by her side, lacing their fingers together. "Here you go. I hope whatever it is you have planned goes well. And my condolences for your loss Ethan, my darling." She said with a warm but sad smile as she briefly squeezed Ethan's shoulder with a tight nod. After some goodbyes, Casey and Ethan walked back into the park and down the path to the main gates. Once on the main street, Casey stopped a taxi and this time sat in the back with Ethan, which he had to admit, warmed his heart a little. When they arrived back at Casey's apartment complex, Ethan covered the fare and they walked up to the apartment together. Outside the door Casey knocked even though she had her keys, which confused Ethan.

"Sienna?! We're back!"

".... COMING!"

A few seconds later the door flew open and Sienna handed Casey a blindfold. Turning to Ethan, Casey jumped trying to put it on him which made him laugh.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

"Trying to blindfold you, duh."

"But why."

"So the surprise isn't ruined."

"... I'll humor you this once."

Ethan smirked as he took the blindfold from her and slipped it over his eyes. After checking he couldn't see, Sienna held the door open and Casey led him into the apartment.

"Okay... I want you to bear in mind that this was all very last minute so not everything is here but.... I do hope you like what we've put together for you okay?"

"Cinnamon roll, you know I'd like anything you put together for me."

"Okay, I want you to brace yourself, count to three and then remove your blindfold."

Casey placed the biscuit Margret had given them on the coffee table and picked up her gift, standing in front of the couch with her roommates in anticipation. When Ethan had counted to three, he removed the blindfold, letting his eyes adjust to the room, gasping as he took in the decorations surrounding him. "Casey... when did you have the time to arrange all of this?" he asked as he moved towards a picture frame with a picture of the three of them in together, all looking happy. "Well. It wasn't all me. I happen to have some very awesome friends who were down to help me and, well, you. All of us here have grieved a loss at some point in our lives so far, but we also all know how much Jenner meant to you. You were inseparable. And we want to help you through this difficult time." Casey spoke softly as he walked around looking at the decorations, appreciating the lengths they had all gone to for him. For Jenner. Suddenly emotion hit him like a train, and he started crying as he turned to Casey, pulling her into a tight hug. Everyone else in the room getting emotional too.

"Uh, Dr. Ramsey." Elijah said as he blew his nose.

"Please. Call me Ethan."

"Okay. Um, Ethan. Casey said it wasn't necessary for me to do seeing as I'm struggling with my money at the moment, but I wanted to get you a gift too. We all did. So well.. this is from myself, Jackie, Sienna and Aurora. It won't match Casey's gift but we uh... here." Elijah hesitated as he passed the wrapped gift, Ethan gratefully accepting it as he sat to open it. He gasped as he removed the wrapping upon seeing what it was.

"Is it... bad?"

"No Dr. Greene, uhm, Elijah.. it's perfect. Thank you."

"Casey mentioned you broke yours and it still hadn't been replaced, so we gathered the same pictures and had another made for you at this shop not too far away. Thankfully, they understood and fast tracked our order but.. the best addition is this.. May I?"

Elijah held out his hand and Ethan passed him the photo cube, watching as he flipped it around before turning it, to show Ethan a picture of Jenner that had wings and a halo added to it, with the caption, 'I'll be waiting for you dad. Love you always.' on it. Tears fell from Ethan's eyes again as he lent on Casey's shoulder, taking the cube back from Elijah. "Okay. My own roommates are out gifting me to my boyfriend now. I may just have to kick y'all out." Casey joked to lighten the mood a little and they chuckled as they dabbed at their eyes with tissues.

"This is emotional. I hate emotion." Jackie sniffled

"Come on Jack. If Ethan can cry then so can we." Aurora said

Ethan hugged Casey and the others took seats on the couches and in chairs as the mood settled back down before Casey gave Ethan her gift.

"Before you open this. I know you aren't one for jewelry, but, like we've said. I know how close you were and still are to Jenner, so I thought this would ease things for you. Because he can still be with you all the time."

Looking a little baffled Ethan carefully opened the gift, throwing the paper to the side as he opened the jewelry box to find a pendant inside. Carefully he opened it, instantly tearing up again as he saw a picture of himself, Jenner and his dad on one side, and a smiley Casey on the other. "Cinnamon roll." he cried as his voice cracked, pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her cheek. "It's beautiful. Thank you so much. I love you. So so much."

Emotion filled the room again as everyone cried at Casey's gift, and the matching pendant she had been wearing all day, hiding it under her sweater. "What did I do to deserve you all?" Ethan asked, as he dabbed and blinked the last of his tears away. They all shared a light chuckle, and Aurora cleared her throat to give an answer.

"You not only inspired us, but you pushed us in our first year to be our absolute best. You made our bond as friends stronger, for me, you mainly showed me that I needed friends. If I wasn't to end up at stiff as you that is. But most of all, you loved our Cassie. You gave her kindness, compassion, support. Everything you have here. Now. Is because you deserve the kindness and love you've given out. Back."

Jackie looked at her quizzically.

"What?"

"When did you become so sentimental?"

"I could ask you the same damn thing right about now."

"Touche."

After talking about Jenner's memory, there was one more thing to do before they all headed to bed for the night. With the biscuit from Margret tied to a few helium-filled balloons, they headed out onto the balcony and looked up at the sky. Ethan taking the balloons from Sienna.

"Hey buddy. It's your dad. I hope they're looking after you up there, because if they aren't they'll be hell to pay when I get there. Anyway, you um. You don't need to worry about me too much. Your mom and her friends are looking after me down here. You should go ahead on more adventures to tell me all about when we meet again. Just like I'm going to for you. I uh.. Well both me and your mom went to see Margret today, and we've brought you your favourite treat. We thought we'd send it up to you so. Here you go buddy. Enjoy. And remember, small bites. Good boy. I love you. Goodnight for now."

He spoke with thick emotion before letting the balloons go as he tightly held Casey's and Elijah's hands, the others joining the chain as they watched the balloons carry the biscuit higher and higher until they couldn't see it anymore. They headed back inside and locked all the doors and windows, cleaning up the mess and going to bed. Casey and Ethan never spoke about where their relationship stood that night. Were they to remain a secret or not. Little did she know the next morning that question would be answered for her. But for now, her focus was sleep. And cuddling Ethan. 

------ The Next Day ------

Feeling refreshed still, half way into the morning at work the next day, Casey stood in a hallway marking a chart as the hospital's PA system dinged overhead. She expected it to be a trauma call or something calling someone to the ER, but she froze as the familiar voice filled the halls and heads turned to stare at her.

"Good Morning staff of Edenbrook. This is Dr. Ramsey. I sound ridiculously happy given recent circumstances in my personal life. But there is a reason and I no longer care if it costs me my job. I'm happy because of a certain doctor. She's probably blushing right now and untucking her hair trying to hide her face whilst it's scrunched up in embarrassment. Anyway, this is not the time for tangents. I'm in love with and dating Dr. Casey Valentine and I've finally stopped giving fucks to hide it. Casey. I love you. I fucking love you. That will be all. Please resume your days as normal."

Casey rushed to a nearby supply closet, a grin spreading on her face as she shut the door. He loved her.

Truly. Madly. Deeply.

[swamp-spirit]

So! A lot of people have trouble with fic summaries, and, to be honest, a lot of fanfics lose me at the summary, so I thought I'd offer my (biased by my personal taste) tips. Fic is for fun, so if you're not worried about it, don't, but if you're looking to bring in readers, a good sumary is your first date.

The type of summary you need is based on genre. A 40K drama has different needs than a 1K fluff.

But, in my opinion, here's the basic ingredients of a summary:

WHAT A SUMMARY SHOULD TELL ME

What type of fic is this?

Fluffy, steamy, horrific? The summary should set the tone. I don't want to see plot summaries about A and B's complex emotional tension when the tags make it clear it's all smut (or vice-versa). Your summary should give me a good idea what kind of tone you're setting.

What is this fic about?

This seems like it should be the basic of any summary, but I'm amazed how many fics miss it. You don't need to summarize the entire plot, but give me the basics of who is there and what sort of thing they're doing. Don't make me go to the tags to get the most basic details Word definition summaries and quote summaries are a common “okay, but what is this fic actually about”, but even things that try and touch on plot... don't. Think the statement paragraphs you probably had to use for essays. There are a whole lot of ways to say a lot without actually saying anything.

'A tries to save the world, but everyone tries to stop them' – What is A trying to do? Who's trying to stop them? How?

Again, this might not mean getting into details. For example, “A joins the school, but things aren't what they seem” sets a bit of a tone, but “A joins the school, but the teachers seem to be hiding something. Why won't anybody talk about the missing student?” pulls me in more.

For a fluff, this might be as simple as “A and B get groceries and run into an old friend from school”

What makes it special?

Big fandoms tend to have trends. Criminal AU or Coffeshop AU, it's often safe to assume your reader has already read 20. Your summary should make yours stand out. There are some bad ways to do this (see 'breaking the 4th wall' below), but put something in the summary that shows your special flavor.

Imagine your reader has read twenty 'A and B work in a coffeeshop' fics. They are probably happy to read 20 more, but if your summary just gives that, you'll look like a watered down version of something they've already read.

Like adding a little pop of color to a dull outfit, this doesn't need to be a plot shattering twist. The little details can make all the difference. Is B working at a coffeeshop to pay their way through beauty school, or do they hope to own the cafe someday? Is it a soulless churn of a job, or a friendly local atmosphere?

What's the hook?

1K fluff is exempt, but this is one of the biggest things a lot of summaries miss for me.

What is the tension? What are the obstacles? This is part of what gets your reader in. How will they defeat the giant lizard beast without their weapons? How do they convince their warring kingdoms to let them marry? How can they learn to love themselves when the world around them treats them like trash? And why in the world is their soulmate tattoo a squid crushing a watermelon?

SOME THINGS NOT TO DO (in my opinion)

“Basically”

Starting your summary off with a nervous conversational filler is not a strong way to go.

Typos

You already know typos are bad. As a reader, I'm actually pretty chill about typos, but the summary is your chance to pull me in. If it's riddled with obvious typos, it gives me two warnings A) This fic might be unreadable B) This author hasn't put in much effort

If you're like me, it can be hard to find typos in your own work, so I recommend showing it to a friend. If you're writing in your second language, ask a native speaker to take a look. Summaries are short, so it's a smaller ask than looking for a beta, and it can really make a difference.

Apologies

“I'm not very good at summaries” is a pretty famous way to tell your readers not to read your fic. Even if the fic really is amazing, almost nobody is going to take your word for it, and a bad summary will always get more eyes than just telling people summaries are too hard. (Not to say you should never complain about summaries being hard. They are. Just don't do it in your summary)

I understand the anxious impulse to warn the reader so they won't laugh at you, but hold is back. No “B might be kinda OOC”. Definetly no “this isn't very good, I'm sorry”. I'd even avoid “this is my first fic/fic in this fandom/long fic, please be nice”, at least in your summary. This is your pitch to the reader! Don't start it trying to lower their expectations!

On the flipside, your summary is also a bad place to get aggressive with potential haters.

And no, don't shuffle your apologies to your tags either.

Breaking the 4th wall

I 100% violate this in one of my fic summaries, shhhh, but keep the summary about the story, not the kind of stuff you'd talk about in an author interview. This includes

-What inspired you (“based on a dream I had”, “based on an RP”, “wrote this while bored”) Exception: It can be good to nod what works your fic is based on -Your various beefs with canon and other fics (“made this character less of a wimp”, “wrote this because not enough people ship it”)

Ending questions

This is the most personal taste thing, but I tend to find a lot of “end on a question types” really cheesy, especially when it's an easily answered question. Questions should pose the mysteries and struggles of the story, not read like a clickbait headline. Here's some examples by genre.

Romance -

Makes me read - “What future is there for a spaceship in love with it's pilot?” Makes me skip - “Will they be able to find love?”

Makes me read - “Why does nobody else seem to see the ticking box on floor five?” Makes me skip - “And what's with that mystery box?”

Makes me read – “What chance does she have against an entire school with powers?” Makes me skip - “How will she show everybody she's the best?”

The clickbaitiest is ones that ask not the concerns of the story or character, but 'what will happen' (ex: “How does he prove to everyone he's the best? You'll see.”) Not a question, but imperitives to read also hit this nerve. I click away extra fast for anything that ends in “read to find out”. But maybe that's just me???

ON USING QUOTES

For lots of fic writers, a chunk of text from the fic itself is a good way to ease into a summary. I don't think this is a bad idea, but it follows the same rules as any other summary.

Chatfics are especially bad about choosing a random section of text the author finds insightful or funny for the summary without paying attention to if it actually matches the tone, themes, or even the characters the fic focuses on.

“I'm not sure we can make this work,” said X. “I thought we were doing okay, but when was the last time we actually enjoyed one of our dates?”

“So we're just giving up?” asked Y.

“I don't know.”

Tells me what the fic is about. I can expect a dramatic interpersonal fic about the relationship strain between X and Y. I have tone, plot, main characters, and a plot hook.

So, in short, if you use a quote:

-Can I tell who is speaking/thinking?

-Is the speaker or subject the characters I should be focusing on?

-Does the quote give a clear idea of the themes, tone, and/or tension of the story?

[here4theheartbreak]

Found My Place Ch 2: Give Us a Try

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: main YoonJin, side VMin (mentioned) Rating: Explicit

Genres: angst, smut Tags (for entire fic): idol AU (canonverse), transgender character, transgender Seokjin, FTM Seokjin, transphobia, pre-debut, misgendering, bisexual Yoongi, supportive Yoongi, discussion of gender confirming surgeries and HRT, virgin Seokjin, sex anxiety, first time, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, generic and scientific terms for female bodied genitals, squirting, barebacking, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, angst with a happy ending

Summary: Jin has a secret that could ruin BTS before they even had a chance to debut. To make matters worse (and better) Yoongi is determined to pursue him to the ends of the earth. Is balancing his secrets and his life possible, or will it all come toppling down around him?

Chapter Word Count: ~3.2k

Jin’s heart thudded a million miles an hour as he rode to the airport alone. He’d been with his members so much in the past year, the idea of going anywhere alone was horrifying. Yoongi had tried to come along, but the manager refused. Instead, he was up texting Jin rapid fire, telling him jokes and complaining about the other members. It felt good, if Jin was being honest. Despite the weight of his secret, Yoongi hadn’t changed a single action that previous night. Just as rough and boyish, not bothering to do more than laugh when the maknaes ganged up on Jin to beat him to pieces before bed, nothing. He did make a gentle point to quietly tell Jin when the bathroom was free, so he could shower in peace, but nothing more. Maybe Yoongi wouldn’t change.

On the plane ride, Jin allowed himself to daydream about what it would be like to date Yoongi. He was so quiet and up in his head, but he opened up to Jin. Would that stay the same? How would it feel to cuddle with him in a shared bed? To spend hours kissing his soft lips and holding his callused hands? Maybe even losing his virginity… Jin tried his best to push that thought away; the fear of anyone seeing him naked had always been too great to even consider opening up to someone in that way. Yoongi would find out his other secrets, things he liked that he shouldn’t, he would see him fully nude and have his body there for judgement. The thought was a nightmare. He knew if Yoongi and he did start dating he’d be expected to give it up at some point, but he didn’t know even how to begin broaching the subject.

Yoongi continued to text when Jin got off the plane, sending short clips of the other members playing or dancing, Jungkook struggling with his homework as Namjoon scolded him, Jimin and Taehyung sneaking kisses behind the couch when they were supposed to be cleaning. And Yoongi himself, working on music or just sitting, short messages of support in whispered tones. And he ended them all the same way. Hyung. Be safe, hyung; Come back soon, hyung; We miss you, hyung. It was a tiny show of support, Jin knew. If only Yoongi knew how much it meant to him.

The doctor was kind enough and the surgery was scheduled to start early the following morning. Jin was placed in a nice hotel room, where he called Yoongi to chat as soon as he was able.

“Are you scared?” Yoongi finally asked.

“Yeah. The doctor says it’s nothing to worry about but I’m terrified. I keep thinking of all the things that could go wrong.”

“Think of the good stuff. When he fixes your chest, you’ll never have to wear those uncomfortable under shirt things. Seeing you in that made my ribs hurt, I can’t imagine wearing it for dancing too.”

“It sucks,” Jin admitted, chuckling. “I wish you could have come.”

“Me too. You don’t deserve to go through this alone. I’ve been… Doing some research.”

“Research?”

“On trans people. I want to learn about you. And how to be supportive. I read a lot about top surgery and the different things you have to do to keep yourself looking this way. The shots and… Stuff.”

Jin chuckled. “Yep, every week.”

“I learned a lot. I hope it comes in handy. I want you to feel like I support you. Because I do. More than anything. I just want you happy. And healthy.”

Jin’s heart clenched tightly at Yoongi’s words. “Thank you… It does mean a lot.”

“I have to go meet the others… Text me, okay? If not tonight, when you get to the hospital tomorrow. And right away when you wake up, I don’t care if it’s just keysmash because you’re high. I need to know you’re okay, okay?”

Jin laughed. “I will. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Goodnight, hyung… The dorm’s lonely without you.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting.”

“Tell the others I said hi.”

“Of course. Chat soon.” Yoongi hung up, and Jin flopped back onto his bed, sighing softly as he stared at the ceiling.

Jin obeyed Yoongi’s wishes, texting right before – and immediately after the surgery. And the texts continued. He remained in Japan his entire healing process, working with various doctors and therapists to get his movement back as quickly as was safe. The entire time he was there, Yoongi called and texted at least once per day. The other members joined in at times, sending texts or calling to check in, but Yoongi was the one that kept the steady influx of calls.

Jin struggled at times, feeling like he’d never get back to the top of his game, feeling like maybe surgery was a bad idea, it could injure the group. Yoongi was right there, listening to him cry and speaking in soothing tones, reminding him of how good he probably looked, how handsome he was, and how much they all missed him and would help him.

Each night Yoongi called Jin before bed, his heart filled that much more. He was falling so madly in love with Yoongi, and he knew he was too far gone to avoid the subject any more. Three and a half weeks of separation, and he was finally given the green light to return to Korea and begin his work again.

The morning of his return, Jin didn’t text Yoongi. It felt foreign, and bad. He knew he’d worry him, but it would be worth it. He wanted to sleep on the flight, but was full of nervous energy. He didn’t know if what he was doing was a good thing, or even close to what Yoongi really wanted, but he had to try.

He arrived back at the empty dorm shortly before the others were due to be home. There were a handful of texts from Yoongi, getting slightly worried as the time passed. Jin forced himself to ignore them, waiting in the small living room for their group.

Time slowed to a crawl as he waited. What if they were going out tonight? What if practice was late? What if Yoongi was angry with him for his attempt at a surprise? Anxiety chewed a hole in Jin’s stomach.

Finally, the door opened and the members poured in, just as loud and rambunctious as they’d been what felt like forever ago. It took them all a moment to notice the person sitting in their living room, but as soon as they did, they lunged, all talking at once, asking how he was, where he’d been, if he was okay. Jin gave happy, vague answers, his eyes seeking out Yoongi.

‘Surprise,’ he mouthed as Jungkook hugged him almost painfully tight. Yoongi was trying his best to look angry, but couldn’t hide his smile. Jin pried himself from the arms of the maknaes, rising and going toward Yoongi.

“You and I need to talk. Privately.”

Yoongi nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” Jin called to the group, who ‘oohed’ at them as they headed toward the bedroom. Jin shut the door and leaned on it.

“How are you?” Yoongi asked.

“Great. Pretty much all healed. Just some ointment to make the scars fade. But that’s not why I dragged you in here.”

“Oh?”

Jin took a deep breath, straightening up. “I told you before my surgery I needed time to think. About us.”

Yoongi nodded.

“Well, I had a lot of time to think while I was recovering.”

“Oh… And?”

Jin swallowed hard. He closed the gap between them and grabbed Yoongi’s cheeks. He pressed their mouths together before he had a chance to change his mind. Yoongi gasped, grabbing his upper arms. He didn’t pull away though. Instead he pulled Jin closer, his body relaxing. He walked them toward the wall, bumping them against it. Jin laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders as he slid his tongue over Yoongi’s bottom lip. The kiss deepened naturally, and Jin found himself pressed between the wall and Yoongi’s body, Yoongi’s lips and teeth biting a painfully pleasurable mark on his shoulder.

Yoongi pulled back when he seemed to be satisfied with the mark, meeting Jin’s gaze. “I take that as a yes then… To my offer before you left.”

Jin laughed breathlessly. “Yeah. It’s a yes. I wanna date you.”

“Let me take you out tonight. The others won’t mind.”

Jin laughed, stroking Yoongi’s cheek. “It’s my first night back. Let me spend it with all of you guys. You and I can go out tomorrow night. Deal?”

“I suppose one more night of waiting is okay,” Yoongi lamented. He kissed Jin once more. “Can I keep doing this?” He whispered against his mouth.

“I never want you to stop that.”

Yoongi pulled back then and stepped back, holding Jin’s broad shoulders. “So your chest! Your surgery. Let me see?”

“The scars are still healing – I need to put cream on them a few times a day.”

“I don’t care. Do you love it?”

“I really do,” Jin admitted softly. He stripped out of his shirt, his cheeks heating up. Nobody but his doctors and nurses had seen his chest yet. His arms raised instinctively, but Yoongi grabbed his hands, forcing them down as his eyes roamed over Jin’s body.

“You’re so handsome. I love it. It looks perfect. Does it hurt still? Can I—” Yoongi held up his hand.

“It doesn’t hurt. It’s sensitive, around the scars and the nipple area… I never really had a sensitive chest before so it’s taking some getting used to but… You can.”

Yoongi touched Jin’s shoulder first, sliding his hand down slowly, almost tenderly, over his chest. Jin’s eyes fluttered shut when he brushed over his nipple, biting his bottom lip. Yoongi traced the scars with a delicate finger, then dropped down to Jin’s belly button before letting his hand fall.

“It’s perfect you, hyung. You look so masculine.”

Jin grinned sheepishly, his face warming at the praise. “I wonder if the others will ask… Now that I can show my chest…”

“I’d ease them into it. They’ll ask more questions if you suddenly start walking around shirtless. Maybe a day or two here or there. You could… Shower with me, if you wanted to… Especially now that we’re dating.”

Jin felt his heart skip a beat at that.

“That requires being fully naked.”

“Usually.” Yoongi paused. “Oh… Right, your bottom half… You know I don’t care, right?”

“I know. It just feels… Wrong.”

“I get it. I won’t push you.”

Jin’s shoulders sagged a little, guilt beginning to eat at him already. “It’s not fair to you.”

“What isn’t?”

“You’re a perfectly normal, healthy guy. You have needs. And my anxiety won’t let me fulfill those needs.”

“Well, one, my hands both work great. Two, I don’t expect you to just jump into bed with me now that you’ve agreed to dating me. I’d want to build up to that. Even if you had a dick. And three, I know what I’m getting into. I’m more than happy to wait, and move at your pace. I want to be happy with you – that means your happiness too. I’ll follow your lead in this, Jin-hyung. I’ve not dated a trans person before, so I know it will be different. I won’t push you – You just tell me when you’re ready.”

“You won’t resent me?” Jin worried, his voice timid.

Yoongi pressed against him and kissed him once more. “Are you kidding? I’m dating the most handsome member of Bangtan. I could never.”

Jin pushed him playfully, rolling his eyes. Yoongi grabbed his hand. “I mean it. I want to make you happy.”

“You will. You already do, just being the way you are. Your support these past few weeks… It was all that got me through some days. The other members helped but you… Knowing the truth, sticking by my side even virtually – I’m so thankful.”

Yoongi nodded. “You deserved support. You needed it. I’m glad I could help.”

Jin stepped forward, holding his jaw to kiss him gently once more.

“Hyuuungs,” Jungkook whined, bursting through the door. “I’m hung—Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” He slammed the door shut just as Jin broke away from Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi laughed a little and Jin tugged his shirt back on, relieved his back was to the door.

“Well, guess that made telling the group easier.”

Jin chuckled. “Guess so. We should go do damage control.”

“Kiss me again.”

Jin obeyed without hesitation, pressing his lips gently to Yoongi’s. He opened the door then and walked back into the living room, where Jungkook sat with a tomato red face on the floor.

“So… Got something to tell us?” Namjoon asked, smirking.

“Yeah… About that,” Jin rubbed the back of his neck.

“Has it been going on long?” Jimin asked.

“No,” Yoongi stepped next to Jin. “We wouldn’t have hidden that. I asked him out a while back, but today he said yes.”

“But your shirt was off,” Jungkook argued. Jin bit his lip.

“I—” He sighed. “I was showing him a scar. I have something to confess.”

Yoongi grabbed Jin’s hand, looking at him quickly.

“The emergency trip was for surgery. For me.”

“Surgery?” Namjoon said. “What for?”

“To have a mass removed from my chest.”

Hoseok shot up, rushing over to Jin. “What? Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Because I didn’t want to scare any of you. It was entirely benign, they made sure. It was just unsightly and made my job difficult. So they removed it. But I have scars now. They’ll heal, but if I seem off on some moves, that’s why.”

“Jin-hyung, you should have told us,” Jimin said softly. “We would have supported you.”

“I didn’t want any of you off your game. In case it went bad—I needed you to think everything was fine and not panic. Yoongi knew, he kept me supported. And everything was fine. Just… If you see me shirtless now… Don’t be startled.”

“Is that why you didn’t go shirtless before?” Jungkook asked.

“Well, that and I’m shy, I guess. But that was a part of it. I’m not gonna start running around half naked or anything, but…”

“We get it,” Namjoon said. “I’m glad you’re okay.” The others murmured in agreement.

“Now we can go eat. I’m sorry I delayed us,” Jin said. As if on a special command, the others shot up, gathering their coats and shoes as they argued over where to eat. Yoongi looked up at Jin.

“That was brave.”

“I wanted some honesty,” Jin admitted.

“Maybe someday… The rest?”

Jin shrugged a little. “The contract…” “I know. But I’m just saying. If you do want to. I’ll stand by you. Just like I did today.” He squeezed Jin’s hand a little harder and kissed his jaw.

“I trust that you will, Yoongi… Come on, we should go before they drag us out.” Jin tugged Yoongi toward the door, following the others. 

[toxicsquad]

There is no better way to get to know someone than through a good question tag. In this case we have decided to make an Indie game dev question tag with the responses of our four developers. We hope that it will reveal many unknowns, but if you are left with any questions, do not hesitate to use our ask.

What part of game development are you responsible for?

Athe: I write and write, I melt in my seat, I correct, I cry and then I program. It’s an endless cycle. Occasionally I laugh like crazy while I eat Pringles.

Sam: I draw and color without leaving the lines (almost always) the sprites, the illustrations and the ravings that usually occur to us past 3 in the morning.

Illy: English translations.

Sher: I draw BGs

What tools do you use (hardware / software)?

Athe: Recently my desktop PC has passed away, so I’ve had to rescue my old PC from the garage. I also have a laptop that saves my life more times than I would like to admit. As for the software, I need, above all, drive documents, video editing programs, image etc (I have an Adobe package) and of course Renpy and Atom.

Sam: My main friend and companion is my tablet, a wacom intuos S (pistachio color, so cute). As programs I mainly use the Paint Tool Sai, because there is nothing in this life like its stabilizer. And less frequently than I would like (for details, texture brushes, effects ...) I also use Clip Studio Paint, which I only know how to use at about 2% of its capacity ... If someday I have time I would love to stop and learn seriously what can be done with it.

Illy: During the school year I live in a residence, so I use an old laptop, and when I return home I use a desktop computer that never has memory space. I translate the chapters in the same Atom where the complete script is and I keep them in google drive files where I share them with our beta reader. I also use editing programs like photoshop when I have to translate comics or procreate for when my artistic skills are required.

Sher: ipad+procreate+some final tweak in photoshop, I don't need much more

What is your favorite part of the job?

Athe: Would it be wrong if I say that is when we released the episode? During the whole production time everything is very stressful, there are times when it’s really uphill, but when we release a new chapter it feels soooo good. It's like saying to yourself, yeah, dammit, I can do it. Look at everything you've climbed by yourself. You're doing it right.

Sam: In general, my favorite parts are when the first scenes start to be programmed, and I can see the sprites with the backgrounds, the texts, and how the illustrations look. Everything always looks so much better when viewed in-game… I also really like being able to check out the script as it is written. And from the artistic part that concerns me, when I see that my hands capture the idea that I had in my head ... Especially in character designs.

Illy: Having to find a way to translate very spanish expressions into English, research vocabulary that I have never had to use and commenting on some translations with our beta reader (which we adore) to make it understandable without losing the original meaning.

Sher: I like to do the lineart when the sketch is complete, if I no longer have to think about anything else and it's just going through it, I find it very fun and relaxing

What is the most difficult part for you?

Athe: Offf, yes, I admit it, sometimes writing is the WORST. Other times I love it, especially when I can expand on the descriptions or stop at a part that is intimate or that I find interesting (for example, Hasiel's conversation from 6.3, small spoiler: P). But, I HATE having to paste scenes, often the protagonist moves between scenes and you always have to add lines to those transitions that really do not interest anyone, but that otherwise the text would be confusing. Anyway... It is a very wide world, with a lot of history, I have to deal with what I need readers to know to understand the facts, although sometimes it gets a bit boring.

Sam: What part does not... Rather who e.e Zihel and Ariel are a thorn in my side. Especially Zihel. I know it has to do with the fact that it has never been my strength to draw boys, and much less if they are more masculine in appearance... That's why I also suffer a lot from drawing muscles. Another thing that brings me a headache is the perspective of the illustrations. Every time I try to get out of the typical shot or poses a little... It doesn't work out.

Illy: Doughy’s  stuttering ¬.¬

Sher: chairs, sofas, tables... anything with four legs is my enemy

Anything to help or encourage you while you are working?

Athe: I need music, no, seriously, I NEED IT. I’m unable to focus without it. If, on top of that, I can get what I hear to act as a sounding board for what I write, the text is a thousand times better... But the muse is a pretty bad person.

Sam: Having a show/movie in the background that entertains me. The longer the better, so I don't have to stop to think what I want to put on next.

Illy: Eating sunflower seeds to trick my brain and not be tempted to do something else that distracts me.

Sher: I try to see other artists to motivate and inspire me before I start drawing, what I find most difficult is that initial push and that is where I need the motivation, then I usually have something in the background but it is not necessary

Something that’s a pet peeve or discouraging?

Athe: Some narrative climax moments. Generally, they are not important plot moments (that is almost entirely decided), they are often small decisions to go from scene A to scene B, but I can spend a LOT of time deciding which is the fastest and best way to tie those two ends. I'm the worst.

Sam: Many times when starting, I can't get the poses to fit the way I want, for example.

Illy: Finding many parts in a row that I find especially difficult to solve and that make me believe that I have forgotten how to English properly. And looking at how many lines I still have left.

Sher: When I don't know how to fill in some area, if I see something very empty but I don't know how to solve it, I can spend days looking at the screen without being able to advance, even if I have other areas that I could do in the meantime

What is required on your table or work surface?

Athe: Notebooks, sticky notes, pens… I’m a person who writes everything down, especially the tasks, but I also order the story by color schemes. The stack of sticky notes have 9 different colors, each one represents a character and I play a lot with them for a lot of nonsense. Besides, even though I have been writing on the computer for many more years than I wrote by hand, I still have a preference for the analogical.

Sam: Coffee, sweets, chocolate, cereals... And cats.

Illy: My phone, the sunflower seeds, a Capital America: Civil War 1L water cup, sticky notes that remind me of tasks.

Sher: I have nothing really lol all my things are for decoration

Your most productive hours?

Athe: Owl. Totally nocturnal. Although I have several crises a month to force myself to work at other times that always end... Wrong.

Sam: Also at night for the most part, although I can no longer stay awake as long as I endured before having a job (the good old days...) However, in the middle of the afternoon, when the zoo that I have at home is still taking a nap, I also manage to go a long way.

Illy: From when I finish eating until 7 or 8 in the afternoon, when I don't have to cook, clean, run errands...

Sher: I take over for Illy apparently, from 7 or 8 is when I start to get into the mood until bedtime

Do working hours make you forget to eat or make you eat twice as much?

Athe: It depends, in the past I ate a lot, now if I have stress I don't eat anything. If I'm in a normal productive phase and I'm not on my nerves, I'm probably eating by inertia.

Sam: They make me eat more, but especially junk food e.e And they make me forget healthy meals, especially dinner at night.

Illy: It depends on my mood, but I usually eat twice as much.

Sher: I'm generally a VERY distracted person so I don't usually get to focus on a task to get to either of those two modes but I guess when I am sooooooo much on the task, I forget. But that happens like a couple of times a year and "forgetting" is "I delay an hour."

What part of your set up would you improve / change (in aesthetics or functionality) if you had no money limit?

Athe: I'm trying to match some of my peripherals with the rest. They are all a damn different color, apparently I'm cursed... Now seriously, I wish I had a better graphic card that would allow me to make video captures, some speakers and a quality printer.

Sam: Actually, I don't think I need anything more complex than what I already have… But if I had to improve something, I'm curious about the most professional tablets, the big ones with the included screen and all that stuff.

Illy: A new laptop that lets me open 4 chrome tabs, Atom and photoshop at the same time without dying.

Sher: A pc screen that will not change the colors I use on the iPad would be nice, really

Which character are you most like? And why?

Athe: Phew I think the easy answer would be to say Akane ... But, Akane is a better person. : P

Sam: This is very difficult... They are all very different, but still I do not think I look much like any of them. If I have to say something, I could identify with Maske's tendency to avoid problems, and his more homey and calm side. And well… Since Akane has been an OC of mine for many years, surely I have something of her too.

Illy: I think I partly have Maske's instinct to stay out of trouble, and on the other hand Joe's shallowness, although tbh I wish I really did look like any of our awesome babies.

Sher: surprised because (unpopular opinion around here) is one of those who I "least care" about really but I would say that Pin because he is a little dumb, happy and probably has a Satanic room and proud of it

Favorite CG/art.

Athe: AT THE MOMENT. Maske chapter 1. It couldn't be more predictable. I know.

Sam: I quite agree with Maske in chapter 1. But I would also put Pin in chapter 5 and Akane in chapter 6.2 on the top.

Illy: Kyeran in Coco's tank ?? Is he even real? Being basic is my brand.

Sher: surprised again and disappointed but I would say that of angel Hasiel because I like pretty dresses, pretty hairs and pretty wings

Favorite BG/scene.

Athe: The Red Light District amazes me. I already liked the life of that place, its history, but the way of expressing it... Uggg Sher took it to another level. The dirt on the street, the night, the constricted buildings...

Sam: I think I’ll say Raziel’s square, I like it a lot from the first day.

Illy: I don't know if I can choose just one T__T but I would say that the Red Light District and Valefar's pub are at the top.

Sher: for not repeating the red light district that I also like very much, I really like the areas of Coco's laboratory, including the “main” area although the perspective is horrible and makes the characters look tiny, but I like how it looks :(

Your favorite chapter to date?

Athe: Ufff... The first and second one I assure you no, hahaha. I will say that the third one, but also for things that are not necessarily from the chapter, but of the production. It was a good moment. I felt that everything was flowing with ease. We all assumed a clear role, they were times that made us feel comfortable and capable of assuming what came next, I think it was a qualitative leap also, both in texts and in art.

Sam: Oh. Well let's see... Chapter 5 is amazing for me, for everything that happens but also because there are many personalized interactions and choices. I can't say I have a definitive favorite, but it could come close… Also from the last ones I really like the 6.2.

Illy: Chapter 5 has so many details, so many things happen, it's hard not to be my favorite. But the last ones with the specific routes are so great that if I stay with the 5 it’s with the  pain of my heart to have to choose one.

Sher: I would say 5 also because in the end when a lot of things happen is when you remember the most

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No hay mejor forma de conocer a alguien que a través de un buen tag de preguntas. En este caso hemos decidido hacer un Indie game dev question tag con las respuestas de las cuatro desarrolladoras. Esperamos que os aclare muchas incógnitas, pero si os quedáis con alguna no dudéis en usar nuestro ask.

¿Qué parte del desarrollo del juego llevas a cabo?

Athe: Escribo, escribo, me derrito sobre mi asiento, corrijo, lloro y después programo. Es un ciclo sin fin. Ocasionalmente me río como una demente mientras como Pringles.

Sam: Dibujo y coloreo sin salirme de las líneas (casi siempre) los sprites, las ilustraciones y los desvaríos que suelen surgir a partir de las 3 de la mañana. 

Illy: Las traducciones a inglés.

Sher: Hago fonditos

¿Qué herramientas utilizas (hardware/software)?

Athe: Recientemente mi PC de sobremesa ha fallecido, así que he tenido que rescatar mi viejo PC del trastero, también tengo un portatil que me salva la vida más veces de las que me gustaría admitir. En cuanto al software, necesito, sobre todo, documentos de drive, programas de edición de video, imagen etc (tengo un paquete de Adobe) y por supuesto Renpy y Atom.

Sam: Mi principal amiga y compañera es mi tableta, una wacom intuos S (color pistacho, muy cuqui.) Como programas uso sobretodo el Paint Tool Sai, porque no hay nada en esta vida como su estabilizador. Y con menos frecuencia de lo que querría (para detalles, pinceles de texturas, efectos…) también utilizo el Clip Studio Paint, el cual sólo se usar como a un 2% de su capacidad… Si algún día tengo tiempo me encantaría pararme a aprender seriamente todo lo que se puede hacer con él. 

Illy: Durante el curso vivo en una residencia, así que uso un portatil del año que reinó carolo, y cuando vuelvo a mi casa un ordenador de sobremesa que nunca tiene espacio en la memoria. Los capítulos los traduzco en el mismo Atom en el que está el guión completo y los guardo en drive donde los comparto con nuestra beta reader. También uso programas de edición como photoshop cuando tengo que traducir viñetas o procreate para cuando mis habilidades artísticas son requeridas.

Sher: ipad+procreate+algún retoquito final en photoshop no necesito mucho más

¿Cuál es tu parte de favorita del trabajo?

Athe: ¿Estaría mal si digo que es cuando sacamos el episodio? Durante toda la producción todo es muy estresante, hay veces, que se hace realmente cuesta arriba, pero cuando liberamos un nuevo capítulo sienta taaaan bien. Es como decirte a ti misma, sí, joder, puedo hacerlo. Mira todo lo que has escalado tú solita. Lo estás haciendo bien.

Sam: En general, mis partes favoritas son cuando se empiezan a programar las primeras escenas, y puedo ver los sprites con los fondos, los textos, y cómo se ven las ilustraciones. Todo queda siempre mucho mejor cuando se ve dentro del juego… También me gusta mucho poder cotillear el guión conforme se va escribiendo. Y de la parte artística que me toca, cuando veo que mis manos plasman la idea que tenía en mi cabeza… Sobretodo en diseños de personajes. 

Illy: Tener que buscar la forma de traducir a inglés expresiones muy nuestras, investigar vocabulario que no he tenido que usar jamás y comentar algunas traducciones con nuestra beta reader (a la que adoramos) para conseguir que se entienda sin perder el significado original.

Sher: me gusta hacer el lineart cuando el sketch está completo, si ya no tengo que pensar nada más y es solo ir repasando me parece muy divertido y relajante

¿Cuál es la parte que más te cuesta?

Athe: Ufff, sí, lo admito, escribir a veces es lo PEOR. Otras me encanta, sobre todo, cuando puedo explayarme con las descripciones o detenerme en una parte íntima o que a mí me parece interesante (por ejemplo, la conversación de Hasiel del 6.3, pequeño spoiler :P). Pero, ODIO tener que empastar escenas, a menudo el protagonista se mueve de escenarios y hay que agregar siempre líneas a esas transiciones que realmente no interesan a nadie, pero que de lo contrario el texto quedaría mal montado. En fin… Es un mundo muy amplio, con mucha historia, tengo que lidiar con lo que necesito que los lectores sepan para entender los hechos, aunque a veces se haga un pelín peñazo.

Sam: Qué parte no… Quiénes, más bien e.e Zihel y Ariel son mi espinita. Especialmente Zihel. Sé que tiene que ver con el hecho de que nunca ha sido mi punto fuerte dibujar chicos, y menos si son de aspecto más masculino… Por eso también sufro mucho dibujando músculos. Otra cosa que me trae de cabeza es la perspectiva de las ilustraciones. Cada vez que intento salirme un poco del típico plano o poses… No sale bien. 

Illy: El tartamudeo de Doughy ¬.¬ 

Sher: sillas, sofás, mesas… cualquier cosa con cuatro patas son mis enemigos

¿Algo que te ayude o anime mientras estás trabajando?

Athe: Necesito música, no, en serio, LA NECESITO. Soy incapaz de concentrarme sin ella. Si ya consigo que lo que escucho haga de caja de resonancia de lo que escribo, el texto es mil veces mejor… Pero la musa es bastante mala gente.

Sam: Tener alguna serie/peli de fondo que me entretenga. Cuanto más larga mejor, así no me toca pararme a ver qué es lo que quiero poner después. 

Illy: Comer pipas para engañar a mi cerebro y no tener la tentación de ponerme a hacer otra cosa que me distraiga.

Sher: intento ver otros artistas para motivarme e inspirarme antes de empezar a dibujar, lo que más me cuesta es ese empujón inicial y es donde necesito la motivación, luego ya suelo tener algo de fondo pero no es necesario

¿Algo que te corte el rollo o te desmotive?

Athe: Los nudos narrativos. Generalmente, no son nudos gordos de la trama (eso está decidido casi en su totalidad), a menudo son decisiones pequeñas para pasar de la escena A a la escena B, pero puedo tirarme MUCHO tiempo decidiendo cuál es la forma más rápida y mejor planteada para atar esos dos cabos. Soy lo peor.

Sam: Muchas veces a la hora de empezar, no conseguir encajar las poses como quiero, por ejemplo. 

Illy: Encontrar muchas partes seguidas que me cueste especialmente resolver y que me hacen creer que no tengo ni idea de hablar inglés. Y mirar cuantas líneas me quedan todavía.

Sher: cuando no se como rellenar alguna zona, si veo algo muy vacío pero no se como solucionarlo puedo tirarme días mirando la pantalla sin ser capaz de avanzar, incluso aunque tenga otras zonas que pudiera ir haciendo mientras

¿Qué no puede faltar en tu mesa o superficie de trabajo?

Athe: Libretas, post-its, bolígrafos… Soy una persona que lo anota todo, sobre todo, las tareas, pero también ordeno la historia por esquemas de colores. La pila de post-its tienen 9 colores diferentes, cada uno representa un personaje y juego mucho con ellos para miles de idioteces. A parte, a pesar de que llevo muchos más años escribiendo a ordenador de los que escribí a mano, sigo teniendo querencia a lo físico.

Sam: Café, chucherías, chocolate, cereales… Y gatos. 

Illy: El móvil, las pipas, un vaso de 1L de agua de Capital America: Civil War, post-its que me recuerdan las tareas.

Sher: no tengo nada realmente lol todas mis cosas son de adorno 

¿Tus horas más productivas?

Athe: Búho. Nocturna totalmente. A pesar de que tengo varias crisis al mes para forzarme a trabajar a otras horas que acaban siempre… Mal.

Sam: También por la noche en su mayoría, aunque ya no aguanto trasnochando tanto como antes de trabajar (qué tiempos aquellos…) Aunque a media tarde cuando el zoo que tengo en casa aún está echando la siesta también consigo dar un buen empujón. 

Illy: Desde que acabo de comer hasta las 7 o las 8 de la tarde, cuando no tengo que cocinar, limpiar, hacer recados...

Sher: le tomo el testigo a Illy aparentemente, a partir de las 7 u 8 es cuando empiezo a entrar en el mood hasta que llega la hora de dormir

¿Las horas de trabajo hacen que te olvides de comer o te hacen comer el doble?

Athe: Depende, antes comía mucho, ahora, si tengo estrés no como nada. Si me encuentro en un rango productivo normal y no estoy de los nervios, probablemente, esté comiendo por inercia.

Sam: Me hacen comer más, pero sobretodo porquerías e.e Y hacen que me olvide de las comidas sanas, sobretodo de cenar por la noche. 

Illy: Depende de mi estado de ánimo, pero normalmente comer el doble.

Sher: en general soy una persona MUY distraída así que no suelo conseguir centrarme en una tarea para llegar a ninguno de esos dos modos pero supongo que cuando estoy muuuuuuy dentro de la tarea, me olvido. Pero eso pasa como un par de veces al año y “olvido” es “lo retraso una hora”.

¿Qué parte de tu set up mejorarías/cambiarías (en estética o funcionalidad) si no tuvieses límite de dinero?

Athe: Estoy tratando de que alguno de mis periféricos peguen con el resto. Todos son de un maldito color diferente, al parecer estoy maldita… Ahora en serio, desearía tener una mejor gráfica que me permitiese hacer videocapturas, unos altavoces y una impresora de calidad.

Sam: En realidad, no creo que necesitara nada más complejo de lo que ya tengo… Pero por mejorar, me llaman la atención las tabletas más profesionales, las grandes con la pantalla incluida y eso. 

Illy: Un portátil nuevo que me deje abrir 4 pestañas de chrome, el Atom y photoshop al mismo tiempo sin quedarse tieso.

Sher: Una pantalla de pc que no me cambiara los colores que uso en el ipad seria bonito la verdad 

¿A qué personaje te pareces más? ¿Y por qué?

Athe: Ufff Creo que la respuesta fácil sería decir Akane… Pero, Akane es mejor persona. :P

Sam: Esto es muy complicado… Son todos muy distintos, pero aún así no creo que me parezca mucho a ninguno. Por decir algo, me podría identificar con la tendencia a evitar problemas de Maske, y su lado más casero y tranquilo. Y bueno… Dado que Akane es OC mío de hace muchos años, seguramente tenga algo de ella también. 

Illy: Creo que en parte tengo el instinto de alejarme de las movidas de Maske, y por otro la superficialidad de Joe, aunque tbh ojalá parecerme realmente a nuestros bebés geniales.

Sher: sorprendida porque (unpopular opinión por aquí) es de los que “menos me importan” realmente pero diría que Pin porque es tontito, feliz y probablemente tenga una habitación satánica y orgulloso de ello

Tu CG/arte favorito.

Athe: DE MOMENTO. Maske capítulo 1. No podría ser más predecible. Lo sé.

Sam: Coincido bastante en la de Maske del capítulo 1. Pero también metería en el top la de Pin del capítulo 5 y la de Akane del capítulo 6.2. 

Illy: ¿¿Kyeran en el tanque de Coco?? ¿Es siquiera real? Ser básica es mi marca.

Sher: sorprendida de nuevo y decepcionada pero diría que la de Hasiel de ángel porque me gustan los vestidos bonitos, los pelos bonitos y las alas bonitas

Tu BG/escenario favorito.

Athe: Me flipa el Barrio Rojo. Me gusta la vida de ese sitio, su historia, pero la forma de plasmarlo… Uggg Sher lo llevó a otro nivel. La suciedad de la calle, la nocturnidad, los edificios constreñidos...

Sam: Creo que me quedo con el de la plaza de Raziel, me gusta mucho desde el primer día. 

Illy: No sé si puedo elegir solo uno T__T pero diría que el Barrio Rojo y el bar de Valefar están en el top.

Sher: por no repetir el barrio rojo que también me gusta mucho, me gustan mucho las zonas del laboratorio de Coco, incluida la zona “principal” aunque la perspectiva sea horrible y haga a los pj parecer diminutos, pero me gusto como quedo :( 

¿Tu capítulo favorito hasta las fecha?

Athe: Ufff… El uno y el dos os aseguro que no, jajaja. Diré que el tres, pero también por cosas que no son necesariamente del capítulo, sino de la producción. Fue un buen momento. Sentí que todo estaba fluyendo con facilidad. Todas asumimos un rol claro, unos tiempos que nos hacían sentir cómodas y capaces de asumir lo que venía después, creo que fue un salto cualitativo también, tanto en los textos, como en el arte.

Sam: Ay. Pues a ver… El capítulo 5 es una pasada para mi, por todo lo que pasa pero también porque hay muchas interacciones personalizadas y elecciones. No puedo decir que tenga un favorito definitivo, pero podría acercarse… También me gusta mucho de los últimos el 6.2. 

Illy: El capítulo 5 tiene tantos detalles, pasan tantas cosas, que es difícil que no sea mi favorito, pero los ultimos de rutas específicas son tan geniales que si me quedo con el 5 es con un poco de dolor de tener que elegir uno.

Sher: Diría el 5 también porque al final cuando pasan muchas cosas es cuando mas se te queda grabado

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[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [13/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro. Jason and Isabel Ardila were in a brief relationship.

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

“Have you seen this?!” Damian explodes, stalking into Tim’s office with all the fury of a pit-bull wearing a thousand-dollar suit. His somewhat bruised face is red with fury as he slams of a piece of paper down on Tim’s desk.

“Did we have an appointment?” Tim asks lightly. “Because otherwise, I need to call an exorcist about a demon problem.”

“Stow your inappropriate humor, Drake, I just received a memo from our lawyers—”

“You received a memo? You don’t even work here officially. You were probably just sitting in B’s office pretending to do your homework and then snooped in his inbox when his back was turned.”

“A technicality that holds no bearing on this,” the boy sniffs, waving the paper again. “The patent office is denying Wayne Enterprises claim for the personal water filtration device we filed for on Tuesday.”

“What?” Tim demands, snatching the paper and glaring down at it; that was one of the projects he’s been overseeing the past few months. “On what grounds?”

“LexCorp apparently filed for a similar product 24 hours before we did.”

“Bullshit,” Tim snaps. “As of last month, they weren’t even out of the developmental stage on that.”

He knows because he’d been to the factory chasing down a lead on a completely unrelated case as Red Robin and happened to catch sight of their prototype. It was nowhere near the quality that Luke Fox already perfected in the Wayne tech division.

“Apparently someone’s been helping them out.”

“Any idea who?”

“I can ferret out the traitor soon enough, and make them see the error of their ways,” Damian says, smiling unpleasantly.

Which could mean anything from destroying their legal existence, or a personal beat-down by Robin depending on his mood.

“No,” he says. “We’ll figure out who did it, and why. Then we take it to Lucius.”

“I would imagine the motive for the deceit is rather self-evident.”

“It isn’t always. Motive colors everything. For all we know, it could be a blackmail situation. I wouldn’t put anything past LexCorp, or their R&D team.”

“And the issue of the patent itself?” Damian demands, folding his arms. “This company has invested significant capital in developing the product; if LexCorp retains the patent, our profit margins this quarter will tank.”

Tim smiles coolly. “They’ve invested a lot more than we did. Especially if they’re paying off a corporate spy. I’ll talk to Luke and his dad, but I think if we circulate the story we’re placing the design schematics online to ensure anyone in need can construct their own unofficial versions of it—for humanitarian and innovative reasons of course—LexCorp will take the worse hit and with the good press WE gets, we can recoup.”

“You don’t actually intend to follow through with that, do you?” Damian asks, nose wrinkled in distaste. “That reeks of compromise.”

“Of course we’ll follow through. With the prototype designs, not the final versions. Profit was never the main goal of that project anyhow, so we can afford a delay on returns. With the sudden influx of bootlegged versions of the technology, owning the patent will no longer be the challenge, it will be providing the most efficient and functional model. Which ours is, given the time we spent developing it.”

“So even if LexCorp releases their version, it will continue to underperform next to ours,” Damian realizes. He thinks about it for a moment and then nods. “That’s a semi-acceptable solution. Not enough justification for you to still be here, though.”

A brief, shining moment of an almost-compliment…and we’re back to that again.

“You know, if you’re so concerned that the team in San Francisco is bereft of management, you could always fly down yourself.”

“This is my city. I won’t leave it.” Which is the same argument he used last night; odd, considering Damian likes to be varied in his attacks on Tim. “Besides, we have all seen the results of the alternative.”

Meaning their short-lived team-up where everyone compared them to each other and Damian split.

Tim raises an eyebrow at that.

It almost sounds like he’s…upset about that. Funny, he’s never indicated he minded leaving the Titans when I came back. And half the time he’s off doing whatever it is he does with John.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such a jerk to them, they wouldn’t have been so eager to see the back of you,” he points out, even as he immediately knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Damian’s expression, on the cusp of showing vulnerability, shuts down completely.

“I have learned it is futile to argue with stupidity, and that includes a preference for subpar leadership. Which you should be getting back to and cease wasting company time on whatever it is you don’t actually contribute here.”

Tim rolls his eyes, counts to ten in his head, and replies, “I have a case here, you know. I’m not leaving until that’s done. And maybe if you stopped being such an ass about it and just came out and asked, I’d be happy to call the team and suggest giving you another chance.”

“I don’t require your pity!”

“That’s not what—” Tim groans and pinches the bridge of his nose; why does every conversation with Damian that doesn’t include weapons, always go pear-shaped? “Are you and B fighting again? Is that what this is?”

“Of course not!”

Twin spots of red indicate that’s exactly what it is, and Tim groans internally.

Exactly when did I take over from Dick as chief soother of family problems?

Probably shortly after Dick “died” and went undercover with Spyral. Which he thinks is patently unfair, considering Cass is technically second-oldest, and Jason gives off more of that brother-vibe despite his abrasiveness.

Not that that’s particularly helpful now; he’s got his own problems to deal with.

And of anyone in the family, Tim’s the only one Damian interacts with almost as much as Dick, so maybe it’s not surprising.

Before he can ruminate any more on that, his phone buzzes; it’s from an unknown number, but Tim can guess who it’s coming from based on the first words in the text message.

- Hospital called. Tests positive…

There’s more to it, but Damian’s trying to read it upside down, so Tim snatches it up and reaches for his briefcase.

Apparently, the hospital put a rush on the paternity test results after all. Jason is probably freaking out right now.

 “We can continue this whole you-asking-for-help-but-not-really-thing tomorrow.”

“I’m not—that isn’t—you presume—” the kid splutters as Tim closes his laptop, before recovering and demanding, “Where are you going?”

“Picking up Ives at St. Camillus,” he lies with ease and mentally apologizes to his absent friend for using him as a cover. “He’s had a hard go of it, so we’re doing pizza and a Mission Impossible marathon.” He pretends to pause. “You’re welcome to come, but I’m telling you now we’re not ordering vegetarian or vegan pizza for you. It’s going to be a no vegetable zone.”

In the past few years he’s discovered the fastest way to get Damian to leave him alone is to welcome him to spend time with him. The kid is so set in his ways of insisting he loathes Tim that he’ll go out of his way to refuse such an invitation on principle, even in cases where Tim suspects he wouldn’t mind sticking around.

Tim thinks he has another year or two of that strategy working before Damian finally figures it out. Which could potentially be fun—he wonders what it would be like to have a younger brother that isn’t constantly trying to cut the knees out from under him—but for now, he really wants to avoid it.

Luckily, in this Damian remains predictable.

“I’d rather not stunt my growth like you,” the boy sneers.

Tim pretends that dig doesn’t irritate him, the way it has been since he noticed Damian catching up to him in height. The kid is smug about it and likes to rub it in. Tim, however, has learned the best way to circumvent that is to make a joke of it.

“I thought everyone assumed it was the energy drinks,” he grins.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out on your territory since you’ve decided to engage in an evening of sloth instead of important work,” Damian grumbles and stalks out of his office.

“So that’s a ‘no’ to pizza night?” Tim calls after him, fully aware of the answer.

“You’re a disgrace, Drake.”

“Make good choices!”

He allows himself a moment to bask in the satisfaction of ticking off the younger boy, before growing solemn again. He unlocks his phone to scan the whole message.

- Hospital called. Tests positive. Pickup tonight. Legal stuff figured out?

Tim shakes his head; Jason might as well be organizing a stakeout for all the details he’s given. It’s a typical Bruce-ism they’ve all adopted for when they are too overwhelmed to deal with something. He wonders if Jason’s even aware he’s doing it.

He quickly types out a reply—I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together. I have papers you need—and heads for the company garage.

He remembers the process from when Steph had her baby and signed the adoption papers, and so has ensured the documents the hospital will require are on-hand. Social security and medical history forms, birth certificates, driver’s license—a surface survey of identification to prove that Jason Ardila exists.

All Jason needs to do is memorize them on the drive over in case anyone decides to ask questions. Which they won’t, since the fact of Jason being the baby’s biological parent cuts down on a lot of paperwork for them, and Tim knows from personal experience that when it’s possible to avoid paperwork, most organizations do.

Inching back home through Gotham’s usual rush hour madness, Tim wonders if Jason will still be there when he gets to the apartment or if this is the point where he gives up and makes a run for it.

Halfway to the Nest, he gets another text from Jason, this one informing him he’s not at Tim’s place. A follow-up message lists an address Tim thinks he might have read recently, and it’s only when he gets home that he recognizes it from the file he read on Isabel.

Guess he decided to go out today after all.

He quickly changes from his business suit to something casual and unassuming, not wanting to draw attention if he goes into the hospital with Jason, and then hunts up the car seat from the piles of baby things Tam bought. Once that’s carefully installed into one of his less flashy cars, he heads out to the location Jason gave him.

He pulls up in front of a well-maintained condominium, and texts Jason about his arrival; though he knows he’s there, he’s still somewhat surprised when the older man materializes from behind the building, his face ashen and entire body pulled tight and tense.

As Jason gets into the car, Tim knows better than to ask him what’s wrong or if he’s alright.

Instead, he asks, “Have you eaten?”

Jason blinks at him like he’s speaking a foreign language, and then processes. “Not yet.”

Tim’s eyebrows go up at that because usually, it’s him that has to be reminded of eating; Jason’s one of those people that has to eat every three hours, or they become ornery.

He spares a moment to wonder where he picked up that bit of knowledge, and then suggests, “We can stop for food first if you want.” There’s a place on the Upper Eastside where Red Hood has been known to frequent. “We can take as long as you want.” 

“If I eat anything right now, I’m going to throw up,” Jason informs him. “I want to just get this over with.”

“Right.” He can understand that. “Okay, on that note—” Tim strains behind the seat, finagling the folder he stuck there with only the slightest pulled muscle, “—here.”

He hands Jason the folder of documents.

“These are all the official stuff they might ask you for, though I doubt we’ll need all of them today,” he explains. “I also included a list of social media sites you’re now registered on and tweaked your membership dates to exist retroactively, though that’s more for you and not the hospital.”

Jason makes a face. “You gave me a Facebook account.”

“Having one is almost more proof of your existence than having a passport these days,” Tim replies. “Which you still need to get, but we can hold off on that for a little longer. Everything here is just to throw off anyone from social services or the government if they decide to investigate you while we’re coming up with the long-term plan. And if we need an ironclad background, we can bring Oracle in on this.”

Jason’s expression becomes darker.

“Obviously I know you want that to be a last resort,” Tim says quickly. “But just keep in mind it’s an option. And O’s pretty good at keeping secrets from the rest of the family too, you know.”

The older man flips through the documents again and shakes his head. “This is pretty comprehensive considering the kid’s not hanging around here for long.”

“Trust me, if you want to get her out of the hospital, it’s going to have to be that comprehensive.”

It looks like Jason has a comment for that, probably about how he doesn’t want to take her from the hospital, but he visibly buries it and focusses on getting familiar with his new background.

The rest of the drive is silent and tense, and not for the first time Tim questions the wisdom in getting involved at all. Out of everyone in the family to help Jason through a tough emotional spot, Tim always considers himself the last resort; even Damian has more in common with Jason. On the other hand, with this particular scenario, maybe there is no right person to help.

Luck of the draw, I guess…

The tension in the car ratchets up tenfold as they pull into the hospital parking lot. Tim makes a judgment call to not simply drop Jason off on his own this time and even offers to carry the baby-carrier with him into the building, though Jason declines.

Probably needs something to do with his hands.

Tim feels a modicum of relief at that; the contraption is bulky and seems too big for the baby he held in his arms yesterday. Knowing him, he’d probably drop it and send Jason into a panic attack…

They head to the neonatal section in silence, and when they get there Tim’s the one who speaks to the receptionist. She hands him a clipboard with a bunch of release forms and waivers, then assures him the doctor will be with them shortly, before pointing them toward the waiting area.

Once seated, Tim divides up the forms and offers Jason a spare pen from his jacket pocket.

“This stuff’s all insurance and stuff,” he tells him. “I can fill them out for you.”

“I said I was going to handle it.”

“Did I say I was putting my information down on it?”

Jason scowls. “I hope you know how creepy it is you know so much about me.”

“Creepy, but useful,” Tim retorts and shoves a different form at Jason. “This is all family and medical stuff. That’s on you.”

“How generous,” Jason deadpans, though he takes the paper and reads through it.

Despite having the majority of the forms, Tim finishes long before Jason does. When he glances over to see what’s keeping him, he realizes that while everything else is filled out, he seems stuck on the name part of the questionnaire.

“You almost done?” he prompts, instead of asking if he’s alright.

Jason visibly shakes himself, jots something down on the paper, and practically shoves it back into Tim’s hands. “Yeah. All good.”

Tim glances at the form, noting that in a fit of inspiration, Jason has added Isabel as the child’s middle name.

As if expecting Tim to comment, he mutters, “Wherever she ends up, she should at least have a part of her mom.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

He takes the documents back to the receptionist to be copied and filed, before returning to sit with Jason.

“It’s a nice name,” he offers after a while. “Luisa Isabel.” He considers. “We can call her Isa. It works for both.”

“Shit. Jason blinks. “I didn’t think about that. Maybe it’s not too late to change it.”

“I wasn’t making fun, you know. It’s a decent nickname.”

Jason shoots him a sharp look. “What did I say about getting attached?”

“Why do you even care? Whoever ends up taking her might change it anyway.”

That comment makes Jason frown, as if he didn’t consider it, but if he has anything to reply, it’s cut off when a nurse appears and calls out Jason’s name.

“Right this way,” she beams at them, leading them to the hallway outside of an observation room; she promises to return in a moment.

Jason and Tim look inside, where there are rows of infants in clear cradles. The nurse stops in front of one of them—labeled Baby Ardila—and picks up the pink swaddled infant.

“Mr. Ardila,” a familiar voice interrupts, and they glance up as Dr. Kerry makes an appearance. He hesitates upon meeting Tim’s gaze, clearly wanting to keep to the privacy he requested yesterday. “Mr…”

“Draper,” Tim supplies smoothly, glad for the attempt.

“Right.” The man shakes his head and returns his attention to Jason. “As you’re aware, we did receive the tests back confirming the paternity. All that’s left is to release her into your custody, though I do have a few last-minute matters to discuss.”

“Sure,” Jason says tightly.

 “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong. She’s in excellent health,” the doctor assures them, as Jason fiddles with the baby carrier. He seems to be unsure if he should carry it by the handle or in his massive arms.

It would be kind of funny if he wasn’t so terrified.

“Her Apgar scores are perfect, she’s already had her Vitamin K injection and shots against Hepatitis B—all of which was arranged and signed off on before the birth,” he adds quickly, wary like he’s expecting them to rage at him for vaccinating the child.

“Good,” Jason says, probably because it’s one less thing to worry about.

Kerry appears relieved, and continues, “She’ll have a series of injections and boosters she’ll be needing, but her pediatrician will give you all of that information when you bring her for her check-up a week from now—" Kerry cuts himself off as if remembering the situation. “I can give you several referrals if you haven’t selected one yet.”

“Thank you, but that’s unnecessary,” Tim says. “We have a family physician.”

Kerry glances at Jason, as if unsure if he should be deferring that decision to Tim considering the kid’s paternity, but Jason nods. “I think that’s probably the only thing we for-sure have covered.”

Not entirely sure Leslie’s area is babies, but she’s still the only doctor worth trusting in this city. Jason knows it too.

“Very well,” the man says with a hint of doubt in his voice. He appears to debate with himself about something for a moment and then squares his shoulders. “We do have a social worker on-site if you change your mind about adoption.”

“No,” Jason says.

Kerry sighs. “Mr. Ardila, if you’ll pardon my input—you’re young. And given the circumstances, this is quite a shock. It’s admirable you want to do the right thing and step up to your responsibilities, but it would be remiss of me not to remind you to do what’s best for the child and yourself as well. If at any time you think you can’t do this, you have options. It’s better to figure out what you want to do now while she’s so young than once she’s had time to bond with you.”

Jason looks torn by either prospect, so Tim cuts in with a polite, “Thank you, doctor. We’re aware of our options. As you said, this has been quite a shock, and we have a lot do discuss. However, we would rather the baby not be left indefinitely in the hospital while we do that. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” Kerry clears his throat, uncomfortable. “The attending nurse has a few papers to give you, commonly asked questions and the like. Just an overview of care for the next week or so, but if there’s any concern—anything at all—I’ve included my emergency phone number and email.”

“Thank you.”

He hesitates a further second, before excusing himself. There’s hardly any time to process that, before the nurse has returned, Luisa in her arms.

“Here she is,” she murmurs softly, almost a coo as she presents the baby to them.

When Jason hesitates a half-second too long, Tim immediately reaches out to pick up the swaddled infant. He may have done a little bit of research and YouTubing earlier to ensure a little more confidence when holding her.

Today, Luisa’s eyes are actually open—barely—though unfocussed. She has no reaction for Tim other than a slight scrunching of her nose and futile wriggle against the blankets keeping her wrapped like a baby burrito. Her skin’s blotchy and a bit greasy looking, and she still resembles a potato, though maybe a bit less wrinkled today.

Jason puts the carrier down, and while he appears intent on whatever the nurse is telling him—either congratulations or the infant care Kerry promised—Tim busies himself with figuring out how to put the infant in the carrier.

Does she really need that many straps and buckles to keep her in? It’s not like she’ll even have the coordination to escape for another two years…

Eventually, he manages it, however, and picks up the carrier by the handle; he sees now why Jason felt so awkward with it before, it doesn’t exactly feel convenient.

“…and that’s it,” the nurse is saying, while Jason nods.

I highly doubt that’s it.

He doesn’t say that out loud, though, if only for Jason’s sake; instead, he smiles and says, “Thanks for everything.”

“You take care now,” she admonishes. “The first week is hard on new parents.”

“No kidding,” Jason replies with a laugh that anyone else might call nervous, but which Tim recognizes as bordering hysteria.

Time to leave. “I’ve got no doubt we’ll manage. We’ve been in tougher situations.”

That seems to penetrate some of the panic the other man is working himself into. He blinks as if suddenly remembering who he is and how much they’ve survived.

“Yeah,” he agrees, a little shaky but surer. “We have.” He takes a deep breath, offers an actual attempt at a charming smile at the nurse, before turning to Tim. “We should get going.”

“We should.”

He still makes no move to take the carrier, but Tim doesn’t comment on it; he’s sure in the next days and weeks Jason will be easier around the baby. But right now, he’s not able to do it, and that’s the whole point to Tim being there.

They turn to leave, baby safely in her carrier between them; when the nurse calls out a parting, “Congratulations!”, Tim pretends he doesn’t notice Jason flinch.

⁂⁂⁂

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Next Chapter

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (18/?)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I wrote this chapter awhile ago, and I was so proud of the movie title I made up…I checked Netflix the other day, and they have the same movie. So, you know, either I saw the movie without realizing it, or Netflix has some explaining to do…I kid, I kid :D Thank you guys for continuously being the best!

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 

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When he got the call in the middle of August, he felt actual butterflies in his stomach. He’s always hated that turn of phrase, but oftentimes, it’s the only phrase he thinks can actually describe what it’s like to be so damn nervous that he feels as if something seriously wrong is going on in his body. He could feel it in his stomach and in his throat. Hell, he could feel it in his fingers some days.

He was excited.

He was terrified.

It happens sometimes. He wishes it happened more often, but honestly, he wonders if it keeps the excitement for what he does alive to get to read through scripts to find the rare gem that actually speaks to him instead of liking everything that passes over his desk. This one, though, the more he reads it, the more he thinks about it, the more he gets inside of Michael’s head…the more he wants it.

Which is probably why he’s about to throw up as Robin drives him over to meet with the producers and the casting directors. He’s not even really auditioning, just talking to them, but it feels like he’s doing his first audition all over again. It had been for an extra with one line in Grey’s Anatomy, and he felt as if he was attempting to prove himself to be Tom Hanks or something.

It was ridiculous.

He didn’t even get that role. It was one line. He’s pretty sure he was supposed to be ordering coffee or something.

His phone buzzes in his lap, and Emma’s name pops up, instantly calming him down for a moment.

Emma: Go kick ass today, KJ! I love you!

Emma: I also love your ass, but that is totally unrelated to what I’m supposed to be telling you right now.

Killian: I love you too! I’ll try to kick arse with my good arse just for you!

Emma: That’s all I ask.

He does kick arse if he says so himself, the meeting going far better than expected. They want him. He knew that they wanted him, but they actually, seriously want him. He’s still got to do negotiations, to work out a few details and to screen test with potential costars, but he’s got the role if he wants it. It’s all early in the preproduction stages, but damn is he excited.

“You look like Roland after I let him eat more than one donut,” Robin laughs as they drive away from the lot and make their way to go get lunch. “You excited?”

“Obviously, mate.” He pulls out his phone and texts Emma about everything, knowing that she’s at work right now and can’t really talk. He really wants to tell her anyways. “And nothing compares to your son on a sugar high. Absolutely nothing. It’s like he’s been possessed.”

“He has been. By sugar.” Robin pulls off of main road and down into one of the business districts. “You want to go in somewhere or do take out?”

“We can do take out. Just pick something out Roland will like since we’ve got to pick him up from school.”

“He’s not going to be hungry.” “He is if we have any kind of junk food, and I feel like we deserve junk food.” “Because we’ve worked so hard today?”

“Exactly.”

Sure enough, when they pull up to pick-up at Roland’s elementary school, the boy climbs in the backseat, buckles himself in, and then immediately asks for some of the fries Killian is eating.

Like clockwork.

-/-

He swears that every Labor Day weekend his corner of Santa Monica gains at least half a million tourists. He’s sure that’s a bit excessive, but it’s only Thursday and people are absolutely everywhere. It’s to the point that he’s in the grocery store trying to stock up for the weekend, and he can’t turn anywhere without running into a cart with someone stocking up on beer and any kind of junk food he can imagine. He can’t really say much, not when he’s doing the same thing, but he absolutely cannot wait to get his things, check out, and get home before he has to drive to the airport to pick Emma up for the weekend.

He should have just ordered online and had his stuff delivered, but he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted when he thought about it the other day after he and Emma had talked.

Emma’s had a hell of a few weeks at work, has pretty much wanted to pull her hair out nearly every day, and even though he saw her two weeks ago before he had to come back to California to meet with the producers for this movie (he wishes they’d give it a temporary name other than Project 783 because he’s a bit tired of calling it that), she was too stressed for either of them to really enjoy it. It’s been a long summer. A good one but incredibly long.

He’s pretty sure there’s several songs about long hot summers, and that’s pretty much been his entire summer. With a lot of airports and Uber rides and living out of his overnight bag.

But Emma’s coming in today, is already on her plane, and is staying through Monday. They’ve got his premiere for Highland Waters tomorrow night, a day to themselves on Saturday, and then they’re spending Sunday out on the Jolly with his family, Anna and Kris included. He’s pretty sure Anna has texted him at least five times a day double checking that Emma is definitely going to be here this weekend. Despite how much time Emma has spent with Elsa, she keeps missing Anna.

Anna is not okay with it in the slightest. Sometimes he thinks she’s been his sister-in-law for his entire life instead of five years with the way she treats him. She’s refreshing, and he’s completely sure that she and Emma need to meet on soft ground for when Anna inevitably tackles her.

Yeah, she’s definitely going to tackle Emma.

After he finally checks out and loads his groceries in the car, he drives home a little faster than he should and quickly puts everything away. He’ll have to tidy it all up later, but he needs to go ahead and make his way to LAX because he already knows that traffic will be awful. It nearly always it, and this weekend is going to make it worse.

Sure enough, he’s late to show up, but he hasn’t gotten a text from Emma letting him know that she’s landed, so he parks in hourly parking and makes his way inside, taking the long route to avoid the photographers that stake out at the exit nearest to the parking lot. He doesn’t see her anywhere, but considering it’s at least thirty times more insane than the grocery store in this small corner of the airport, he doesn’t exactly expect to right away.

Killian: Have you landed?

Emma: Yeah, but we’re taxiing right now.

Emma: My legs are so stiff, and the man next to me has talked for this entire flight.

Emma: Ah, shit. He just asked if I’d get dinner with him.

Emma: Why are people so weird?

Killian: What did you say?

Emma: Obviously I said yes.

Killian: Bring me some takeout from wherever you go.

He keeps texting back and forth with her until the texts stop and he’s left simply standing there watching and just waiting for her to show up somewhere.

“Hi, hi, hi,” Emma sighs as she jogs up to him at the airport, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding onto him as he tugs her closer, the bill of her baseball cap rubbing into his cheek with the sudden embrace. “How long have you been waiting here? It took forever taxiing after we landed, and then I had to pee, which I pretty much refuse to do on the plane which was hard because I had coffee…and yeah. Sorry for being late.”

“I absolutely do not mind,” he promises, quickly brushing his lips over hers as many times as he can before things turn inappropriate in a very public place. “Even if you were obviously going out to dinner with that man. I’ve just been watching people get black suitcase after black suitcase mixed up with other people’s very similar suitcases.”

“Sounds like quality entertainment.” “Right? Your flight’s luggage is coming out on this belt in front of me, so yours should be here soon. I’m surprised you didn’t do carry-on.”

She shrugs, pulling back from him and tightening the plaid shirts that’s wrapped around her waist. “Too much stuff. I wasn’t exactly sure what to wear tomorrow, and Ruby convinced me to bring…a lot. I figured you could help. Plus, my foundation went over the TSA limit for liquids weirdly enough, which I found out at security. That was a fun time.” “Sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure, Swan.” “I have. Look, there’s my suitcase. Let’s go.”

Emma practically jogs off to get her luggage, and he wonders just how much coffee she’s already consumed this morning. It’s got to be quite a bit, and he knows that she’s definitely going to crash in the middle of this afternoon. But it doesn’t matter. She’s here. She’s here, and he’s absolutely convinced that they’re going to have a wonderful Labor Day weekend with all of the plans that they’ve been making.

He hasn’t been this excited for a weekend in a long time.

-/-

“I like this,” he croons as he walks up to Emma at the counter in his bathroom that he’s come to think of as her counter. All of her stuff is there, the things she leaves behind both on accident and on purpose, including the damn toothbrush she ordered replacements heads for and had them sent here instead of to her home. He’d already signed up for the refurbishment ones, but he didn’t let her knows that when she texted him about the delivery. So now he has an entire dentist’s office worth of toothbrushes.

“Thank you.” She finishes putting her earring in and then turns around. “If I move from side to side, the fringe shakes.” She demonstrates for him, twisting and turning so that the white fringe on her dress moves with her, and he’s about as fascinated with it as he is with the smile on Emma’s face. It’s almost like she’s living some kind of childhood moment she never got right now, and all he can think is how happy he is that she’s happy. And how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

He’s known it for awhile even if they’re not there yet, but he’s there. And he’s perfectly happy to go at Emma’s pace. He knows that she’s it for him. All this summer, the months of flying back and forth, of getting brief moments of time together and even more talking on the phone, it’s been difficult, but it’s kind of reaffirmed things for him on what he wants out of life. Emma’s not the first woman he’s been in love with, she’s not even the second or the third, but she’s it in every big sense of such a small word. He somehow…somehow he just knows it with every fiber in his being.

God, he loves her. More than anything.

“See?” Emma laughs, looking up at him as the fringe stops moving, resting back in place and framing her body. “I bought this dress forever ago and have never worn it. It looks okay for the premiere, right?”

“You look stunning, my love,” he promises, taking her hands and kissing her knuckles so he won’t mess up her makeup. His lips move along the skin of her hands until he’s kissing her wrist, right on the small black dot. “And this is perfect.”

“Thanks. You look nice too. Very handsome but,” she reaches up and runs her hands through his hair a little bit, “your hair is too flat. You gotta add a little life to it.”

“How embarrassing will it be for me to admit that I usually have someone do my hair for things like this?”

“Only a little,” she laughs, continuing to mess with his hair, which feels far too good than it has any right to feel. “Why didn’t you for tonight?”

“Smaller event. I’m not even wearing a tie or anything.”

Emma rolls her eyes before turning around and picking up her lipstick and reapplying the red, her tongue poking out the slightest bit. “You are obviously in shambles.”

“Thank you for your never ending support.” He can see her wink in the mirror. “Always.”

The show sends him a driver, which he really didn’t understand for something like tonight when it’s simply a miniseries premier and not a movie, but he’s not going to complain about not having to worry about how much he’s had to drink when thinking about them getting home. So he thanks Steve, before helping Emma into the back of the car, her dress seemingly always in movement, and loading in himself.

Robin’s waiting for him when they pull up to the hotel where they’re hosting this thing tonight, and Steve drops them off at the front entrance where he can see Isabelle getting out of her car as well. Apparently, the producers are trying to schmooze them one last time.

“You ready, darling?” he asks Emma, taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers together as Robin walks them through the front doors. “Yep,” she says quietly, her eyes darting around the room that’s bursting with people. “This is kind of weird.” “Aye, I know. It’s pretty unconventional.” “A pipe burst down at the theater where they were going to do this,” Robin explains, “and they’re having to redo all of the upholstery. And this was a good last-minute option even if things are a little unconventional for it being a show.”

“That’s shitty luck.”

“It is, but this is a nicer place if I’m honest.” They walk into one of the ballrooms, and there’s a wall set up for them to take pictures by, a group of photographers and journalists already taking pictures and interviewing some of his costars. “Jones, you know what to do here. Take your picture alone, then some with Isabelle, and then you’ve got one interview at the end. Emma, you can stay with me if you want to.”

He looks over to Emma, and she nods her head, smiling at him even if her eyes are blown a little wide. “You going to be okay, darling?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She squeezes his hand before releasing it. “Go do your thing, KJ.”

So he does, standing and taking pictures, alternating between smiling and staring at the cameras with an emotionless look. This, to him, has always been one of the most awkward parts of his job. It’s not the interviews. It’s standing alone and having people take pictures of him. So he’s eternally thankful for when Isabelle finishes hers and comes to stand next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and smiling.

“You’ve got these crazy eyes going on right now, Jones,” she laughs, all the while her pose never fades. “I’d try straightening those out.”

“It’s the damn flashes and the way it’s far too dark in here.”

“You’re supposed to be a professional,” she teases. “Get it together.”

“I would, but your shoes are just so bright that I’ve been blinded.”

She hits his back – hard – and he laughs while they continue to move across the small carpet until they separate to do their own interviews. She’s one of his favorite costars, someone who he actually likes to talk to outside of work, and even though they’ve been finished filming for months, he knows he’s going to miss her when she flies back home to New Zealand instead of staying here.

When he’s finished talking, having gone through Ezra’s entire backstory once again as well as explaining just how excited he is for the miniseries to begin, he makes his way through the doors, figuring that’s where he’s supposed to go. It’s definitely different than he’s used to, not at all familiar, so he waits inside the impromptu theater that he’s just stumbled into until Robin and Emma also come through the doors with smiles on both of their faces. Good.

“You want to get something to drink, KJ?” Emma asks, coming up to him and poking her fingers at his chest. “Because I know for a fact that you hate watching yourself on screen, and I feel like you are going to need a couple glasses of rum for that.” “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“No,” she promises, wrapping her arms around his neck while he rests his on her hips, feeling the soft material of her dress under his fingertips, “I am not. I’m just trying to make life more bearable for all of us before you whine and moan all about your performance in the show.”

“She’s right, mate,” Robin laughs. “You’re going to give us all hell this entire time.” “See?” she nudges, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pleasantly scratching his skin. “You need something to drink. Plus, I think there may be food.”

“Swan, I would never dare bring you somewhere without food. I’m not a madman with a death wish.”

“That’s a good plan for you.”

After they get their drinks and Emma finds herself some food (“They have mini cheeseburgers, KJ. I knew your job wasn’t worthless.”), they settle themselves down into their seats while people continue to move around them. Isabelle comes to sit next to Emma, and they absolutely hit it off. It’s wonderful, even if most of it is them teasing him, but Emma’s just got this smile on her face, her eyes lighting up with joy…and it’s all he wants. He wants her to be happy, and if it means him suffering through being made fun of and having to watch himself on screen, it’s completely and totally worth it.

Plus, there are other scenes that he’s not in, and those are okay to watch. Those are brilliant to watch because it’s a bloody brilliant show. Emma gasps in all the right places, laughing at all of the totally inappropriate places when he’s doing something like sword fighting, and she spends the entire time whispering a live commentary in his ear that has his stomach rolling while he stifles his laughter in her hair and in her shoulder as he runs his lips across her bare shoulders every time he gets a chance. She smells like her hairspray, her perfume, and a little bit of rum on her breath. He enjoys the spice of it.

He enjoys her.

“That was brilliant,” Emma sighs when it’s over while the room claps. “Is there any way you can get me the entire thing, like, right now? I kind of want to know what happens next without you giving me spoilers.”

“I don’t think I have that power.”

She groans, stretching out her legs in the seat while her head falls back. “What good are you?”

“I thought we already established that the sliders you consumed earlier were what I was good for.” “That’s what your job is useful for. You, on the other hand, need to be worth something.”

“I’ll just have to think on that, love.”

He’s not sure if he ever comes up with something he can be good for since he can’t get Emma the entire season on Highland Waters, but he does get her some more food and a refill on her drink as everyone settles around the bar, chatter and laughter filling the room while music plays on the speakers overhead. He’s not exactly sure who all is here, most of the faces unrecognizable to him, so he assumes they’re executives instead of the crew he was so familiar with while filming. He would recognize the crew.

“So tell me,” Isabelle sighs as she comes up to he and Emma in the lounge by the bar, the wine in her glass sloshing around, “how in the world does Killian Jones get someone who is such a catch like Emma here?”

“I ask myself the same thing every day,” Emma teases, settling herself down on his thigh while he wraps his free arm around her waist, the other hand holding his glass.

“You have literally known her for three hours, Isabelle.”

“Yes, but in those three hours, she has informed me that you organize your fridge and pantry as well as everything else in your house like you’re in some kind of organization club.” “I am not embarrassed by the fact that I’m organized. Emma should be embarrassed by how much of a slob she is.” “Hey,” Emma laughs, adjusting herself in his lap while she slaps his hand over her stomach, “I am not a slob. I’m not a slob,” she repeats to Isabelle, “and really, the weirdest thing about Killian is definitely that he eats his salad without combining ingredients. Like, if there are strawberries in there, he eats all of them before moving onto the lettuce.” “That’s not weird.” “That’s really weird, Jones. I can guarantee it’s not the weirdest thing about you, but it’s pretty weird.” Someone calls out her name, and Isabelle looks away, practically tripping over her own heels even as she stands still. “I’ve got to go, but I’m going to come back and find you guys later.” “So she’s drunk, right? She can’t actually that clumsy all of the time, and if she is, that was incredible acting in that first episode.”

“She’s definitely a bit intoxicated,” he chuckles, tilting his head to the side and brushing his lips across her jaw and down her neck while she moves and gives him more access to her skin, little moans escaping her lips. Bless her. “I think we may be too, but we’re sitting down.”

“Because we’re, ah,” she gasps when he bites down on her skin, and it sends a shiver down to the base of his spine, “intellectuals.”

“Big word there.”

“You really are drunk if you think that’s a big word.”

He hums, leaning back in the chair and yanking her back with him so that she giggles, the sound high and lilting even with all of the sounds in the room. “I think we should go home, Swan,” he growls into her ear as his finger start moving over her stomach, wishing the damn fringe wasn’t in the way. He loved it at the beginning of the night, loved the way it made Emma feel, loved the way it hugged her curves, but he’d really rather she not be wearing it right now.

“I think that sounds like a plan, Stan.”

They load back into the car and get a ride home from Steve. He can’t say he’s ever made out with a girl in the backseat of a car, not since he was a teenager and Liam would have lost his mind had he and Hannah Kirpatrick been in the house, but now as a thirty-three-year-old man, he does just that. She tastes like the spice of the rum they’ve both been drinking, maybe a bit like the chocolate she ate right before they left, grabbing it on the way out the door, and it’s intoxicating as always as her lips move against his over and over again.

They’re probably scarring poor Steve, but he honestly doesn’t care when there’s a white fringe dress on the floor of his living room.

-/-

“Okay, so remind me that I am not twenty-two anymore the next time we decide to go out and drink so much,” Emma groans when she wakes up the next morning, her voice far too loud for how much pain he’s in.

“You’re talking far too loudly.”

“Oh my God, so are you.”

He chuckles, even as his head pounds, and wraps his arms further around his pillow, burying his face in the softness while he tries to will everything away. “You are nearly five years younger than me, so you’re much closer to twenty-two and not feeling dead from drinking too much.”

“You have a bigger body mass. Harder to get drunk.”

He kicks out on the other side of his bed until he finds flesh with his foot. He’s honestly not sure what part of Emma’s body he’s kicking, but he doesn’t care. “Rude,” he mumbles into his pillow, turning a bit and opening one eye just so he can see her stretched out as well, her hair covering her face from his view. “You’re not supposed to comment on a man’s body mass.”

“You’re taller than me and weigh more. Your body mass is bigger. It’s not an insult.” He kicks at her again until she yelps. “I hate you so much.”

“You don’t.” “I do.” “Will you still hate me if I go make us some hangover food?”

“Pancakes with chocolate chips and whipped cream would be acceptable. And coffee. And bacon. It has to be cooked in the oven and not the microwave though.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbles, rolling over in bed and letting his eyes adjust to the light, “how are you being so specific about what you want?” “I am a specific type of person.”

“Okay,” he sighs, slowly getting up from bed and letting his eyes adjust to light, “I will go make us all of that food, but I’m also going to make you eat some fruit, yeah?”

“Fine, Mary Margaret. I will eat all of my food groups.” “Don’t tease Mary Margaret when she’s got a good point. Besides, you eat salads all the damn time.” “Not when I’m miserably hungover and not picking everything out like you do.”

He’s miserable pretty much the entire time that he’s making breakfast, the medicine he took and coffee he’s drinking helping a small bit. Emma eventually joins him, her hair wrapped up in a towel on the top of her head while she’s changed into the sleep shorts she likes and one of his older t-shirts that she must have gotten out of one of the drawers in his closet. Misery loves company, so as he and Emma grumble and groan all while waiting for their food to be cooked, it’s not quite as miserable as it was.

Or maybe it is. He did drink a hell of a lot of rum yesterday.

But eventually he feels less like death and more like a human being. The food helps, even if he does have a lingering headache, but honestly the fact that they hoard themselves away in his bedroom with his curtains closed to block out the sun and do nothing but hide out under the covers while the rest of the country likely has a nice Labor Day Saturday helps the most. Plus, Emma grabbed bags of chips out of his pantry and brought them upstairs with her so they really don’t have to leave his room at all.

Except to go get water. Neither of them thought about water when they both really need it.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” Emma speaks out of nowhere, making him turn his head to face her. She’s got a bag of salt and vinegar chips in her lap, something he already knows makes her tongue break out because his does the same, not that she cares about that, and if he were to shake out his comforter, he knows there’d be crumbs everywhere.

“For what, sweetheart?”

She shrugs, the bit of sunlight that’s peeking through the window casting across her face and hitting the green of her eyes, making them shine even more brightly than usual. “For your premiere yesterday, for getting the role for that movie that doesn’t have a name yet. I totally think it should be called After Life, though. People will think it has supernatural stuff in it when it doesn’t. It’ll just be about what happens after life  is over for someone you love.”

He laughs, scooting up on the mattress and inching closer to her, nearly sitting up himself. “I’ll have to tell the producers that. Get you a paycheck for the name and everything.”

“Always looking out for me.” “Undoubtedly.”

“But I’m also just…” she sighs, her entire body heaving with the movement, and it’s what gets him to sit up against the headboard with her. “I’m proud of you for who you are, for getting this life for yourself, for not letting your past define you any more than it has to.” “Emma, what’s all this about?”

“Nothing,” she promises, putting the chips on the table next to her while he watches her features, watches to see if there’s anything she’s not telling him. “I don’t know why, but I was thinking about the Sorellino’s, about how I was late because of work, and how at the end of the night you told me how proud you were of me. That meant so much to me, probably more than I can ever tell you, but I also realized that I never told you how proud I am of you for the life that you’ve built.”

Emotion lodges itself in his throat, as do the words he wants to say in response. He remembers that night. How could he not? He remembers telling Emma how proud he was of her, remembers the way her eyes lit up and her lips trembled a bit, and he also remembers her telling him that his mum would be proud of him if she were here to see him. And while he doesn’t think what he does is changing the world, he’s glad that he does what he loves. Emma telling him that his mum would be proud of him, well, that was just the same if not better than anything else she could have said.

It doesn’t change the fact that he can feel his entire body heat all the while thinking about Emma and how she thinks him to be a man who she’s proud of, a man who she wants to be with despite all of his shortcomings and failures.

“Thank you, my love.” He leans over and brushes his lips over hers, tasting the chips she’s been eating.

“You taste like onions,” she groans, her entire demeanor lightening instantly so that he laughs against her lips.

“You taste like vinegar, so you really can’t complain.”

“Lucky for you, I do have a fancy toothbrush compared to your regular, manual one.”

“You and that damned toothbrush, Swan.”

She winks, reaching over and grabbing the big of chips before popping a large on in her mouth. “You’re really going to appreciate it when I eat this entire family-sized bag of chips all by myself in the next hour.”

“Those were for you and Anna for tomorrow. She’s going to kill you before she even meets you.”

“Don’t be so salty, KJ.” Emma pops another chip into her mouth while he groans, scrunching up his face. “Totally worth using the word salty for the look on your face right now.”

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Nineteen

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1686

Author’s Note: I’m attempting to post this from an airport, so hopefully it works! It may take me a little while to get to comments as I am traveling, but I’ll do my best to get to them as soon as possible! Enjoy the chapter :)

You took one final picture of Tyler before you went running to the other side of the stage. Josh was about to have one of his drum solos and an idea for a great shot had been bouncing around your mind all day. He glanced over at you as you were adjusting your camera.

You sighed and got the photos that you wanted. Josh had been catching your eye all night and it was only serving as a reminder to how terribly everything had turned out. As soon as the pictures were taken, you went rushing back to the other side of the stage. Tyler was about to get into the crowd for Holding On To You and that was a moment you didn’t want to miss.

After the concert, you headed straight back to the tour bus. There was still lots of work for you to do and you didn’t feel like waiting around for Tyler and Josh. You would have plenty of time to hear all about tonight’s show later on.

Your editing equipment was still laid out on the table, making plugging your camera in and importing all the new photos easier than normal. It was nice not having to wait ages just for your software to open up.

Josh and Tyler took longer than normal to get from the venue to the tour bus. Based on the expression that they had on their faces as they walked in, you assumed that Tyler had asked what happened between the two of you. He took a seat across from you at the table, but Josh kept walking straight to his bunk.

“How are photos going?” Tyler asked, plastering a smile on his face.

“I barely started,” you said. “But if you want to look through them with me, you’re free to.”

Tyler switched around so that he was next to you on the bench. You both huddled around your laptop, looking through photos and picking out your favorites. Occasionally Tyler would make some comment about something he saw or was thinking during the show, causing the both of you to crack up.

Josh appeared again; the laughter between the two of you immediately quieted down as he made his way to the fridge. He looked over at you and Tyler huddled over your laptop and bit down on the corner of his lip. Without a word, he grabbed a water from the fridge and went back to his bunk. You watched him go, silently hoping that he would say something.

“It’ll get better,” Tyler said quietly, reaching over to rub your back.

“I really hope you’re right.”

A week had passed since your conversation with Josh, and things hadn’t really changed. The two of you were barely speaking aside from a few comments or questions here and there. It was slowly starting to take a toll on you. Not even the good times with Tyler or photographing shows could outweigh the disappointment you felt with each day that you and Josh continued to avoid one another.

You had tried to be friendly with Josh again and act like nothing had ever happened, but after three days of no response from him you had given up. He was always acting like you weren’t in the room and if he did, you felt unimportant. It was growing harder for you to believe that there was ever a moment where you would have done anything for him.

“Y/N/N!” Tyler called.

His footsteps echoed a bit as he moved along the bus to where you were currently laying on your bunk. The one advantage of Josh not constantly distracting you--at least, not intentionally--was that photo editing seemed to go by much quicker.

“What?” you asked, pulling aside the curtain of your bunk.

You jumped a bit as Tyler’s face appeared right in front of you, causing you to laugh.

“You coming?” he asked, gesturing his head towards the door.

“Is it time already?”

“Yeah and I don’t feel like getting ready alone today,” he let out a little laugh.

“Ok, I’m coming.”

Tyler had already grabbed your camera bag for you so you followed him off the bus and into the venue. You flashed your badge at the guard but Tyler just continued right through, fully enjoying the benefits of being the main act.

“I’m just waiting for the day when you get stopped by security again,” you laughed, remembering the story that he had told you months ago.

“I’m sure it will come, but I’m going to take advantage of not having to use a badge as long as possible.”

You collapsed onto the couch in Tyler’s dressing room and stared up at the ceiling. Tyler immediately stripped off his hoodie and pulled on his dress shirt. He did some vocal warm-ups as he wandered around the room, slowly working away at the buttons.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Tyler watched as you awkwardly lifted your hips so that you could slide it out of your back pocket and check the notification. It was a text from one of your good friends back in California. You had almost forgotten you had texted them earlier that day.

August: Sorry about the wait, got caught up with work stuff. Did you still need to call?

Y/N: Yeah, give me two seconds?

August: Sure thing.

“I have go make a call,” you said. Tyler nodded as he continued to make some weird noise that he swore helped make his voice sound better.

It took you a second to remember how to get back outside. The tour bus would be empty, and you figured that was as good a place as any to make a phone call. You walked in and sat down on the couch, leaning back into it slightly. It took you a second to work up the courage to actually dial August’s number. The gravity of what you were considering doing felt like a weight on your chest.

“Hello?” August answered after a few rings.

“Hi,” you said, letting out a sigh.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been ok. What about you?”

“Good! I just got a new job, as you know, and it’s actually been working out really well.”

“That’s great to hear.”

“Thanks, but I know you didn’t call to hear about my job. What’s going on with you?”

“I have a question that I needed to ask you,” you said, picking at a loose string on your jeans.

“Sure, go for it.”

“Um, I was thinking about coming back to California for a little while. I was just wondering if I would be able to stay with you?”

“Of course! When are you thinking you’ll get here?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but probably this weekend. I still have to look at tickets and sort a few details out.”

“Well my house is open to you whenever and however long you need.”

“Thank you so much, August. It means the world to me.”

“Don’t mention it. I can’t wait to see you again, it feels like it’s been ages.”

“Tell me about it. I’ll talk to you soon with more details, ok?”

“Perfect.”

“Later.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

You hung up the call and set your phone in your lap. That was all the information you needed.

“There you are!” Tyler said as you walked back into the dressing room. “Did you get your call dealt with?”

“Yeah.”

You walked over and took a seat on the couch. Tyler had now moved on to messing with his necktie, something that he seemed to struggle with every night.

“Need help?” you laughed.

“Yes, please.”

You grabbed the tie from around Tyler’s neck and helped him to do it up properly. He turned to look at himself in the mirror and smiled.

“I’ll never understand how you do that so well,” he said, lightly touching the tie.

“You can thank Matthew for that one.”

“Probably the only thing he was good for, huh?”

“Yep,” you sighed. “Um, hey, Ty?”

“What’s up?”

“There’s something that I need to tell you.”

“Hit me with it.”

Your hands were already shaking and you hadn’t even gotten the words out yet. The way that Tyler was staring at you wasn’t helping to calm your nerves much either. You already knew that he wasn’t going to like what you were about to say, but there wasn’t really a way to get out of telling him.

“I’m leaving,” you finally blurted.

Tyler’s head pulled back and his eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“I’m leaving. I’m going to photograph the next few shows and then on Saturday’s break I’m going to fly home to California.”

“Y/N/N,” he sighed. “Why?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “This whole thing with Josh is just… I can’t handle it right now. Between seeing him every day and him catching my eye at every show and acting like I don’t exist otherwise, it’s not helping me move on like I should be. I just need to be away from here. Away from all of this,” you gestured vaguely around the room.

“Have you considered any other options?”

“Ty, I swear I’ve exhausted every option. Trust me, I don’t want to leave.”

“And who’s going to take your place?”

“I contacted another local photographer. His stuff is really good and he seemed stoked about the opportunity. And who knows, maybe someday I’ll be able to come back once this whole thing blows over. It’s just that right now I need to put myself first, and that means leaving tour for the time being.”

Tyler nodded, “I understand, but I am going to miss you like crazy.”

“We’ll stay in touch, ok? That’s a promise.”

Tyler held out his arms and you held onto him tightly. You were forever thankful for this opportunity that you had been given, even if it didn’t quite work out in the end.

“Let’s go out there and make some of these last two shows some of our best, what do you say?”

You smiled, “I say that’s a great idea.”

Tags

@svintsandghosts @a-stumpsexuals-world @ohprettyweeper @jigglypuff1999 @simonsbluee @beanfic @abandonedwhxre @patdsinner33 @oncemorewithfeelingg @plumsfrombucharest

[falselyprofound]

Hi there! It's been a minute and a half. I'm trying to get better at being part of the game design community and also just talking to people I want to talk to so hello! I'm curious about your workflow, like what engine do you work in and stuff? And also, if you could make your dream game, what type of game would it be?

Hey hey, good to see ya again! :D

(And god, I feel you there. I know a couple of gamedev blogs follow this personal account of mine, so I need to get better at talking to people as well. But anywho...)

My workflow kinda varies from project to project, since I'm still studying game design/am constantly picking up new techniques. I've worked in GameMaker, RMVXA, RMMV, Twine, Ren'py, Unity (sort of. god I need to pick up the slack), and AGS. All of those projects have had some wildly differing circumstances surrounding them. If there's a particular game of mine you'd like to know more about, you can either check its tag or send me a message!

Buuuut for the sake of not making this post super long, I'll be focusing on my experience with AGS. That’s pretty much my average at this point.

I mostly use Adventure Game Studio for my projects. While it's not the most elegant engine, it's free, easy to use, well-documented, and is something I've been using on-and-off since primary school. By this point, I can usually hack some code together to make my game look however I want it to look.

Most of the projects I post about here are put together on a pretty tight timeframe, because university/gamejam deadlines. This means that, nine outta ten times, I code the engine at the same time I'm writing the story. This worked out pretty well for Tech Support.

If I got bored of coding, I'd just hardcode some text in. If I got sick of how long it was taking for me to implement basic functions, I'd stop writing story and change the code so things were easier to edit. Writing Dee's dialog inspired the puzzles. And if a puzzle was too hard to code, I just tweaked the dialog and wrote something to avoid the problem.

...I feel I should take a moment to mention that this is a very, very lazy approach to game making, and I would not recommend it under most circumstances. It's great if you have zero time to work with (like I did), or if you just want a quick proof of concept thing.

Because, like... Coding as you go means that changing one line of dialog will often break everything you're working on. When I finally get back to working on Guest & Ghost, I'm just gonna start coding over. I actually wrote the script in advance, I drew most of the assets several semesters ago, but there is no WAY I can finish making it with this goddamn spaghetti code.

Sometimes, it's best to just look at the mess you've made, realize you could have just done it in a much simpler way, and start over. (Which, incidentally, is what’s been happening with Camera Bunker Bat lately. ...But that’s a whole ‘nother rabbithole of a discussion so I won’t get into that right now.)

As for dream games I would like to make some day? Well, uh, that’s basically half this blog at this point. P:

Tick, Tock, Demon Clock is probably the main one, since it’s the first game I did a GDD for without caring about whether or not it was possible to create. Take the time mechanics of Braid, shove it in a hack-and-slash platformer, and toss in some bizarre fantasy tropes and you got yourself a game I would KILL to play. Shame I can’t figure out how to code the damn thing.

In addition to that, I’ve always wanted to make a game that uses Clock Tower 0′s chase mechanics. I love point-and-clicks, and I love the thought of some monstrous piece of shit hunting you down while you try to solve puzzles. I'm pretty sure I could code such a game in AGS, but... I don’t have a setting or characters for it. (Or I might, but those worlds were co-written by people I’ve been having trouble keeping in contact with and I ain’t gonna make a game about them without their permission.)

...I could go on and on, but we’d be here all night.

[probably-writing-x]

The Unknown One (Vol.6)

~A Noah Centineo AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny

Inspiration: The boy next door cliché always seemed to happen in movies. But when this boy moved in to the house beside yours, he seemed willing to discover more than you wanted him to know.

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death (car accident), language warnings

Notes: I figured it was time for a big ol' fluffy chapter so here you go loves!

The knock at the door was persistent, awaiting an opening.

"Alright, alright," You sigh, opening the door to reveal Noah on the other side, "Hey,"

"I'm sorry, I'm just about to leave for the game," He stops when he sees you smile, "I assume everything's okay?"

"Yeah, the money came through. We're good," You grin, brushing your hair behind your ear, "So I was just about to leave too,"

"Ooh she's coming to see her favourite player," Noah cheers, spinning in his place on your front step.

You laugh at his confidence and his silly nature.

"I'll decide who's the best player once you win," You raise a brow, jogging down the steps and down the path from your house.

Noah shrugs, catching up to you and instinctively lacing his hand with yours, "Well you already think we'll win so that's enough,"

The two of you opt to take the walk to school, chatting the whole way. Noah had an amazing ability to make conversation out of everything so there wasn't a moment of silence between you.

"Alright I need to leave you because, well, the team need their main man," He grins, leaning down to kiss you on the lips quickly, "I'll spot you in the crowd,"

"Break a leg," You smile, "Or don't, yeah, definitely don't do that,"

He laughs and you can feel it rumble in his chest before he walks away to where the team were already beginning to group up.

You grab yourself a drink and some food before taking your seat among the rest of the students that had come to support the soccer team.

The first half is successful, Noah manages to score twice much to the excitement of his coach who could be heard shouting praises about his latest prodigy.

At half time, you notice Noah look up into the crowd for you and the smile on his face melts you just a little. Okay, a lot. You pull out your phone to text Leo's friend's mum, just to make sure they were all okay because you couldn't help but think about it.

A message pops up on your screen from none other than Noah too.

'Who could you possibly be texting that's more important than watching me sit on a bench? ;)'

You look up to see his gaze completely intent on his screen.

'Hmm, I have a lot of contacts'

'Trying to get someone to scout me for professionals? Wow, you're so supportive!'

You laugh and go to respond when you notice that the second half is just beginning. Noah stuffs his phone back into his bag and starts to jog back onto the field.

It is then that one of the opposition calls out to him.

"Centineo!" He yells from his position on the other side of the pitch, "Might want to be careful with that psycho girlfriend of yours,"

You see Noah's face drop only slightly, remaining relatively composed with all things considered.

Until one of the other players comments.

"Yeah, didn't she like kill her parents or something?" The opposing captain laughs, earning some support from his team.

Your heart drops and for a moment you're certain it stops all together. And you can't deny that Noah's probably does the same. He turns to find your eyes among the crowd. That look was what made you feel the worst. It was a mixture of fear, concern, disappointment?

You had to get out, quickly. You grab your things and run out of there like the place was on fire. It felt like your face was.

Now would he realise why you hated people at this school? And, hell, in this town?

~~~

It had been a few days since you'd spoken to Noah. He knocked at your house when he got back from the game but you pretended to already be asleep. You'd driven to school five minutes early to avoid him seeing you in the mornings and you'd spent the majority of your time in the library so you didn't have to worry about seeing him in the corridors.

His final, and most effective, chance is to head to the old building where you'd taken him on his first day. He hadn't been there since that day because he liked the idea of you having a place that was yours. But, when his sports lesson had finished and he saw you, he had to take the opportunity.

"Am I too late for entry?" His voice cuts into your silence and you look over the side of the roof to see him stood at the bottom of the ladder.

His tall frame looks small down there as his eyes peer up at you intently.

You don't respond and he takes it as signal to come and join you.

"Hey stranger," He comments, sitting a safe distance away.

"You don't want to be seen with me," You mumble, trying with everything to not look at him.

"I do," He states simply, "Because I fairly certain what those boys said was completely fake,"

"It depends how you look at it," You admit, looking up at him.

For a moment, his confidence and certainty falters because, damn, what if those assholes were telling the truth?

"My parents died two years ago. In a car accident," You begin, "We were going to this outdoor cinema thing that we used to go to every year. And this drunk driver started driving the wrong way down the road, and they hit straight into us. Mum managed to get Leo out pretty quickly but my dad stayed to get me out. And he did. But, as he did, we didn't realise the engine was on fire,"

Noah shuffles a little closer and his eyes give you a comfort that his words couldn't.

"I was covered in cuts, burns, everything," You explain further, "And my mum was so cautious about helping me and Leo that she didn't care about herself. She was cut across her stomach and she lost so much blood that the doctors said there was no hope," You clench your jaw because it stops your lips from trembling.

"Holy shit," He mutters, because how could anyone be put through that at such a young age?

"So, yeah, if I hadn't have been there my parents would still be alive. Leo would have a mum and a dad, they'd be happy," You stop yourself from carrying on because the tears in your eyes were far too strong to be held back.

"Don't say that," Noah shakes his head, pulling you into his chest and letting you cry into him, "Those people, they're assholes! They have no idea about you,"

You don't respond but manage to pull yourself away from his chest to properly look at him.

"You're unknown to them. And that's why they act like they do, because they don't understand you. They don't want to and so they choose to make it up based on rumours they hear or expectations they have," He continues and it sounds like everything makes some strange sort of sense.

You nod and purse your lips together to stop yourself from crying anymore.

"Come on, let's go home," He smiles, his thumb brushing over your hand comfortingly.

The two of you walk to your car and climb in, waiting silently for Leo to get in too.

"Hey kiddo," Noah smiles when he sees him, "How's school been man?"

Leo goes on to ramble about everything that was happening at school for him, all of his friends and his subjects. He absolutely loved it.

"Are you staying for dinner tonight?" Leo asks hopefully as he jumps out of the car, letting Bolt out too who'd been picked up from his daycare.

"Oh I don't have to," Noah assures you.

"Come on, it's pizza night tonight," You grin, finding his hand and leading him to the house.

~~~

Noah spends the entire evening at your house. You put on a random film of Leo's choosing and eat enough pizza to last a lifetime, realising you hadn't felt this happy in a very long time.

"Hey, I should head home," Noah comments as you come down from saying goodnight to Leo.

"Yeah sure, I'll see you tomorrow?" You raise your brows, following him to the door.

"Of course," He smiles, turning round to press a soft kiss to your lips.

You wait at the door as you watch him go up to his house and try to get in. Of course, he still hadn't figured out how to work his key properly.

"Fuck," He mumbles, pressing his forehead against the wooden frame, "And nobody's in,"

You laugh and roll your eyes, "Stay here,"

"No, that's okay," He shakes his head, clearly not wanting to pressure you, "My parents will be back in.." He stops to check the time, "A while,"

"Noah, come on," You tilt your head to the side, "There's a perfectly good couch downstairs and it will be much more comfortable than that step,"

"Are you sure?" He asks, walking towards you anyway.

"Positive," You smile, wrapping an arm around him when he came back inside.

~~~

It is strange that morning when Leo wakes up to the sound of an alarm and not the sound of you already rushing around the house. He pads downstairs, still half asleep, as he's cautious of why he still can't hear anything of you. And why your bed was empty - not even slept in.

When he makes his way into the lounge, he welcomes the sight. You and Noah are both sound asleep on the couch. Noah's arm is wrapped around you and your hand and head rest on his chest thay rises and falls in rhythm with his deep breathing. Leo's never seen you look this peaceful. It takes him back to when he'd come downstairs to see his mum and dad who'd also fallen asleep on the couch with a film forgotten on the TV screen. And, for a moment, he doesn't miss them. Because his sister, in what felt like her first moment of peace in years, was doing a damn good job for both of them.

[byuneebuns]

Fenced In (Part 11)

Chanyeol/Baekhyun x Reader College AU

Rated: M for Smut

Tags: NSFW, Alcohol Use, Smut, Angst, Mild Fluff, Slow Burn, College AU

Author’s Note: Sorry about this. Also next update will be a little slower, probably two weeks-ish. I’ve got a lot of stuff going on this month but I’ll do my best.

Fenced In Mini Masterlist

“Are you sure that I look okay?” You whispered, nervously picking at your fingernails as you followed Hani up the driveway to the single family home that was your destination. You could hear the loud music and talking from outside and you were amazed that the neighbors didn’t seem to mind.

Hani glanced at you over her shoulder, smiling gently.

“You look amazing, and I’m offended that you think I would have let you come out with me looking anything less than that.” She said, reassuring you for what had to have been the tenth time since you got in the cab. 

You were beyond thankful that Chanyeol hadn’t been home to bear witness to your groaning as Hani forced you to be her dress up doll. She had clearly planned this since she’d brought several changes of clothes, for herself and for you, and an entire arsenal of makeup. You usually wore the bare minimum and should have known better than to think she would let you get away with that tonight.

You had eventually been forced into a strappy backless blood red bodycon dress and nude heels, your hair was in loose waves and you were wearing enough eyeshadow that you took comfort in the assumption that no one would be able to recognize you under it. You didn’t look bad by any means, if anything you were impressed at how nice you looked, but you didn’t feel like yourself and it was a little unnerving. You weren’t a big fan of alcohol but you were eager to get a drink and some liquid courage in your system to counteract your nerves.

When Hani opened the front door the dull roar of the party became an unbearable cacophony of sound. The bass from the music seemed to make the walls themselves vibrate. There were bodies everywhere, swaying to the beat as if possessed. Thankfully everyone seemed too absorbed in whatever they were doing to even notice more people were joining their ranks. Hani grabbed your hand to keep you from getting separated as you navigated your way through the sea of bodies towards the kitchen.

“Where’s your friend?” You shouted over the din. Hani shrugged and shook her head and continued dragging you by the hand. When you reached the kitchen the noise had subsided slightly, enough to talk comfortably. There were still altogether too many people and too much noise, but it was at least tolerable. Hani was bent over the counter, mixing unknown liquids from different bottles into cups. She turned to you, thrusting one of the cups at you. You sniffed it gingerly, wincing at how strong it smelled, and took a hesitant sip. She laughed at the sour look on your face and took a sip of her drink as well, her expression mirroring yours.

“Sorry, I’m not the best at making things taste good but at least it gets the job done right?” She said through her laughter. You rolled your eyes, smiling and taking another sip of the disgusting concoction your friend had brewed and hoping it would kick in fast so this entire situation would be slightly more bearable.

“Jongdae!! Over here!” Hani suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs, waving her free arm wildly. A boy of average height with short black hair sauntered towards you. His eyes and lips both had a natural upward curve, giving him a permanent expression of bemusement. His cheekbones were impossibly high, making him almost fox-like in appearance. He had the face of someone you couldn’t possibly dislike, friendly and open.

“Hani! Thanks for coming. Sorry for all the noise, Jongin went a little overboard.” He yelled, pulling your friend into a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s good to see you! This is my friend, the one I told you about,” Hani yelled back, gesturing to you. You smiled politely and waved, trying your best to politely introduce yourself despite the noise.

“Yah, Hani, you didn’t say your friend was so cute!” Jongdae yelled, making you sputter a little on your drink.

“She’s not cute, she’s perfect and that means she’s out of your league. Better luck next time, Jongdae.”

You laughed behind your hand as Jongdae exploded in a fit of whines and complaints. You could feel the alcohol starting to warm your body and dull your senses, just enough to make the noise level less abrasive and ebb away at your self-consciousness.

“I’m sorry, but can you tell me where to find the bathroom?” You asked, interrupting Jongdae’s latest grievance.

“Use the one upstairs!”

“I’ll go with yo-”

You raised a hand to stop Hani, shaking your head.

“I’m fine, you stay here! I’ll be right back.” You smiled, trying to reassure Hani. You wanted her to have a good time, even though you’d put up a fight to come in the first place. She nodded once and turned back to Jongdae, resuming her teasing.

You made your way back through the living room, weaving through the people dancing, finding yourself subconsciously shaking your hips as well. You drained the last of your cup, dropping it in a trash can in the corner of the room and started ascending the stairs. Your body was buzzing pleasantly from your drink and the heavy bass and you were glad that you came.

Maybe college parties aren’t the worst thing in the world, I’ll have to tell Hani that later.

You could already practically hear the excitement of her response already. She was always nagging you about going out with her more often.

The second floor was much quieter and much darker than the one beneath it, clearly intended to be off-limits to the majority of people in attendance. You were eternally grateful to Jongdae for letting you come up here, especially after seeing the absurd line for the bathroom in the main hall downstairs.

You squinted through the darkness at the hallway. Jongdae’s directions had been rather vague. There were four doors, all of them closed. You briefly admired that college students could afford to live in such a nice house and made a mental note to ask Jongdae how many roommates he had before you decided to feel envious of his living situation. You decided to start with the door at the end of the hall, straight ahead.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard a cry come from one of the doors on your right.

“Baekhyun!”

You inhaled sharply, suddenly feeling faint. Against your better judgement you walked up to the door, intending to press your ear to it, and found it wasn’t shut all of the way. The door swung open at your touch, revealing a very naked Baekhyun pounding in to an unknown woman he had bent across the foot of the bed. His face was beautiful as always and contorted with pleasure, one hand entwined in her hair and pulling her head back, her back arching, the other gripping her hip roughly and pulling her backwards to meet the relentless snapping of his hips. His breath was coming in short gasps and the room was filled with the lewd mingling sound of flesh on flesh, curses, and moans.

You gasped, frozen in place and unable to process what you’d stumbled across in your drunken state. You felt warmth pool between your legs, arousal mixing together with sadness and anger, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of where Baekhyun’s length was disappearing over and over. 

Now you knew why he hadn’t been texting you; he seemed a little busy.

“What the fuck? Get out, bitch.”

You continued staring, unperturbed by the woman’s outburst, mind reeling and feet rooted to where you stood. Baekhyun’s head turned towards the doorway, unaware of your presence until then, and you watched the recognition dawn on him, shock overtaking the lust painted on his features. His mouth was hanging open, unable to make sound, and his eyes were bulging.

“Are you deaf? Baekhyun, do something.” The woman whined, clenching the bed sheets with her hands and craning her neck to look at him as much as the fist he had in her hair would allow.

When he uttered your name it was like the spell holding you in place was broken and you ran at full speed, abandoning the bathroom trip altogether, taking the stairs two at a time. Your politeness was long forgotten as you shoved your way through dancing couples, biting your lip to keep the tears you felt forming at bay.

Even intoxicated you felt nothing but foolish and miserable. You barely knew Baekhyun and didn’t have any claim to him, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you had no right to be this upset and you knew that, but it was jarring to watch him with another woman nonetheless. You felt a stab of anger and betrayal as you remembered how gentle and sweet he’d been with you before you’d slept together, only to disappear before you woke up and avoid you afterwards. Maybe that was just the kind of guy he was. That had to be it.

You bit your lip harder, now caught somewhere between self-pity and rage, your emotions erratic and heightened by the alcohol.

You found Hani exactly where you’d left her, using Jongdae as a springboard for her witticisms. You tugged at the hem of her sleeve and she turned, taking in your obvious distress with concern.

“What happened to you? What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into her arms while Jongdae watched, confused. You choked back a dry sob, still fighting to keep from crying, and struggled to find words to describe what you’d witnessed on your excursion.

“I’ll tell you later. I know you’re an awful bartender but will you make me another drink? I have some things I’d like to forget.”

She pulled away from you, her eyes searching your face. Finally, seemingly satisfied with what she found, she nodded once and set about making you another drink. You avoided Jongdae’s stare, your original self-consciousness returning.

“I know that I don’t know you well, but if something bad happened to you in my home I’d like to know about it and make it up to you if I can.” He whispered, rubbing your back soothingly. You hadn’t even noticed that he had moved closer to you. You turned to him, mustering a smile.

“Thanks, Jongdae. It’s nothing, really. But thank you.” You whispered back, patting his shoulder. He smiled sweetly and nodded, his hand leaving your back to playfully ruffle your hair. Hani turned around, handing you a full plastic cup that somehow smelled worse than it’s predecessor but you were well beyond caring. You took a long swig, the contents burning away your feelings.

“I think I’m going to go dance.” You announced, turning to leave but stopping when Jongdae’s hand found your shoulder again.

“We’ll come with you! I can introduce you to some of my roommates if we can find them.” His smile was bright and genuine but clearly laced with worry. Hani nodded in agreement, her face strained. They each put an arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the living room turned dance floor. You froze when you saw a familiar figure descending the stairs, head swiveling in search of something.

“Oh, hey, there’s one of my roommates now. Yah, Baekhyun! Over here!” Jongdae yelled before you could stop him. Baekhyun’s eyes met yours for the second time that night and the horror from before still hadn’t left them. He hurried towards you, fighting against the people crowding the foot of the stairs.

“Hani, I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.” was all you managed before you untangled yourself from your companions and bolted towards the front door, pulling out your phone and dialing the cab company’s phone number. You stumbled out of the door into the night, blood rushing as the phone rang. You downed the rest of your drink in one gulp, setting the empty cup on the porch.

“Come on, hurry up, please.” You muttered to yourself. Your foot was tapping the pavement impatiently and you couldn’t help nervously glancing towards the front door, unsure of who would have pursued you but that someone surely must have.

You yelped when your phone left your ear, forcibly taken from you by someone that appeared unnoticed from the shadows on your right while you’d been watching the front door. You glanced over, your terror replaced by confusion when you registered the identity of your new companion.

“Chan...yeol...?” You asked in disbelief, staring up into the face of your roommate.

“You’re crying.” He said quietly. Your hand flew to your cheek and you were astonished to find that he was right, you wondered how long you’d been crying without realizing it.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice impossibly soft. Before you could answer him the front door opened with a clatter and Baekhyun tumbled out of it, panting. Chanyeol’s expression hardened.

“Please, wait.” Baekhyun started forward but Chanyeol moved in front of you, blocking you from view.

“I’m taking her home.” He turned to you and you nodded in confirmation, refusing to meet Baekhyun’s eyes.

Chanyeol put his hand on your lower back and guided you away from Baekhyun, who surprisingly remained quiet. No one spoke until you got to the end of the long driveway.

“I’m not going to ask you to tell me what happened, not unless you want to. Is it okay for me to take you home? Did you come here alone?” Chanyeol asked, his voice gentle in stark contrast to the tone he took a moment ago.

“I want to go home. I came with my friend, she’s still inside and she knows I’m leaving. We took a cab here together.”

As if on cue your phone rang, Hani’s name flashing on the screen.

“Where are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?” Your heart twinged at the panic in her voice and you did your best to keep your voice steady and normal.

“I’m fine. I’m still outside. I ran into my roommate and he’s going to take me home. I’m really sorry but something came up and I...can’t be there anymore. I’ll pay for your cab fare to make it up to you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Don’t sweat it. Jongdae is going to let me stay in his spare bedroom. Are you sure you’ll be okay going home with your roommate? You had a lot to drink.”

You flushed, understanding what she was implying.

“Yes, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, good. Can we meet up tomorrow and talk about everything?” You could practically hear relief oozing through the phone.

“Of course. I’m sorry again, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You said your goodbyes and turned to Chanyeol who was doing a poor job at pretending he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“Sorry about that. You really don’t mind taking me home?”

He smiled and shook his head.

“Not at all. I didn’t want to come in the first place and this gives me the perfect excuse to leave early.” He laughed as you continued walking down the street together, stopping in front of a jet black motorcycle parked against the curb.

You looked at Chanyeol quizzically, stunned into silence when he pulled out a set of keys and started unlocking the bike.

“Have you ever ridden one before?” He asked, handing you a helmet, amused by your disbelief. You shook your head and he laughed again.

“Well I’m sorry to have to ruin your hair but this is how I got here tonight.”

“I didn’t know you rode a motorcycle.” You blurted out stupidly.

“Well it wasn’t exactly on my renter’s agreement that I had to disclose my modes of transportation to you.” He shrugged, donning his own helmet and climbing onto the front of the motorcycle. He patted the seat behind him, waiting for you to join him. You tugged at the hem of your dress, cursing how short it was.

“I don’t think modesty will really work too well. Don’t worry, no one will see. Just hold on to me as tightly as you can, okay?”

You followed his instructions, praying he couldn’t feel the lingering dampness between your legs from what you’d witnessed earlier as your short skirt slid up your thighs. You donned the heavy helmet and wrapped your arms around his torso, your breath catching at how intimate this felt when the roar of the engine startled you out of your fantasy, making you jump again.

Chanyeol turned to look at you over his shoulder and you nodded, letting him know that you were ready, and the two of you were off, flying through the starless night, the wind searing your skin as leftover tears burned your cheeks.

***

“Hey, be careful-” Chanyeol’s strong arms caught you as you tripped over your own feet trying to kick off your heels in the entrance of your shared apartment. His back hit the closed front door with a hard thump as your chest fell against his. The alcohol you’d had before leaving the party was finally catching up to you and you were unsteady on your feet. Your body felt hot and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the sudden proximity to the man you’d been trying desperately to avoid for weeks. 

His arms were circled around your hips to keep you steady and you were pressed into his broad chest, your hands resting on his stomach. You looked up at him, your cheeks flushed and your breathing heavy. He was faced away from you, staring at a spot on the ceiling, his face red.

“Chanyeol....” Your voice was breathy, it sounded like it belonged to someone else. Alcohol had emboldened you and being in his arms just felt so right. The air was thick when he finally faced you, his eyes hooded and dark. Neither of you spoke.

Your hands slowly slid up his chest, feeling his muscles tense under them, and stopped at the base of his neck where they wound in his soft hair, tugging a tortured groan from his throat. You leaned your weight against him to steady yourself as you stood on your tip toes in the heels you’d somehow kept on despite your efforts to free yourself of them until you were tall enough to press your lips to his gently. 

Fireworks were exploding in your stomach as you moved against him, one of your hands leaving his hair to roam his back and hold him closer to you. His arms tightened around your waist but stayed in place, and even though you were drunk you could tell he was holding back. 

Your tongue darted out, running along the length of his lower lip, begging for them to part- but they didn’t.

You leaned away from him, panting through your wet, swollen lips, just enough distance between the two of you so you could speak.

“Did I do something wrong...?” You whispered, burning in the heat of his gaze.

“Not like this.” His voice was hoarse and pained.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on.”

Chanyeol led you by the hand down the hall to your bedroom, setting you down on the edge of your bed, his hands on your shoulders. He knelt down and carefully released your feet from the heels you’d been wobbling on, placing them off to the side by your open closet. 

“Make sure you change before you go to bed. I’ll be back in a few minutes with some water, okay?” He said as he rubbed a few slow, soothing circles into the heel of your aching foot. You nodded and watched his retreating back before clumsily starting to peel off the skin-tight dress you were wrapped in.

You had only just barely managed to pull an oversized white t-shirt on over your bare chest and panties when Chanyeol gently knocked on your door. You called for him to come in, not missing how his eyes traveled the length of your shirt or the color rising on his face. He set a glass of ice water on your nightstand and smiled at you.

“Make sure you drink all of that or you’ll regret it tomorrow.” He said, turning to leave again. Your hand reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him. He stopped walking but didn’t turn.

“Stay?” You whispered. Your voice was pleading, You weren’t sure if he heard you but he didn’t move.

“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” 

“We don’t have to...just stay with me.”

He stood there a while longer, silently considering you before finally breaking the awkward silence with another sigh and walking over to the opposite side of your bed and sitting down. He patted the space next to him and suddenly you were nervous. He patted the comforter again, more insistently this time, leaning towards you to catch your eye and smile reassuringly. 

You moved towards the bed, shyly watching your feet, and climbed into it and his arms, curling into the fetal position. He held you from behind, his long arms loosely wrapped around your waist, your bodies perfectly fit together, and nuzzled your hair affectionately, his chin resting comfortably on your shoulder. His arms felt like home and a small smile played on your lips as you felt yourself slipping into dreams faster than you would have liked.

Chanyeol extracted his arm from beneath your sleeping form before it could join you in slumber, looking fondly at your peaceful face. He was mesmerized by the slow and steady rise and fall of your chest, a feeling he couldn’t name swelling in him while he watched you. He had wanted to be able to hold you like this for months, but his reverie was punctured by a loud buzzing coming from your nightstand. 

Worried the disturbance would wake you he leaned over to silence the call, freezing when he recognized the name on the caller id. His finger pressed the decline call button bitterly and he settled back into you, deeply breathing in the soft scent of your shampoo as he felt his body start to get heavier with sleep.

The vibrating started again and Chanyeol’s eyes flew open, already narrowed in annoyance this time. Once, twice, three times more he rejected the incoming calls, his temper rising dangerously with each insistent buzz. Finally, on the fourth attempt his irritability got the best of him and he answered, lifting the cell phone to his ear and opening his mouth angrily, but the person on the other end spoke first.

“Please, don’t say anything, and don’t hang up. I’m outside. Please talk to me.”

The call disconnected.

Chanyeol groaned, replacing the cell phone on the nightstand and digging his palms into his tired eyes. 

“He’s just going to keep calling.” He muttered darkly to himself, reluctantly untangling himself from you and making his way from the room. He cast a glance at where you were still curled up on the bed, oblivious to the encounter that was brewing on your doorstep. 

Chanyeol trudged to the front door, opening it and revealing a very distressed looking Baekhyun. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were bloodshot, from tears or alcohol Chanyeol was uncertain. He was, simply put, a mess.

The smaller male tensed at Chanyeol’s appearance; it was obvious he was expecting someone else.

“What do you want?” Chanyeol asked, his voice as flat as his expression. Baekhyun’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

“Where is she?” Baekhyun asked, ignoring Chanyeol’s query.

“Sleeping. If she wasn’t I doubt she’d want to see you anyways, so you’re wasting your time.” Chanyeol shut the door in Baekhyun’s face, feeling the smallest tinge of guilt at the look of absolute dejection on the other man’s face before it disappeared from view.

He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between the two of you but he could put together a rough idea. He was a little disgusted by himself for how relieved he was to possibly have Baekhyun out of the picture either way. He shoved the thought from him mind, too tired and content to share your bed to allow anything to ruin it. 

He retreated back to your bedroom, stifling rogue yawns with the back of his hand, reclaiming his spot at your back and joining you in sleep, his head filled with thoughts of you. The phone didn’t buzz again and it didn’t take long for Chanyeol to fall asleep with you wrapped tightly in his grip, an actual dream come true.