#Writing this on my phone with blurry eyes because my computer died and I have to get this scene out of my head

[flailypichu]

Everyone collects themselves after that near death (not even near death, they watched him die and reform) experience and decide to put off the trip to the moon for at least a day, just to breathe and process. And make sure Ashton doesn't explode again. Like, really make sure.

Fearne doesn't make eye contact with him, each clop of her hooves sounding deep in his body as she gets further away. She links arms with Imogen and Laudna, who glance back at them with twin worried and frustrated expressions. Ashton doesn't think he burned any bridges today, but a few of them are heavily singed to match the rest of him.

FCG and Chetney help them up to their rooms, where Lord de Rolo has banished them to recuperate, Lady Allura still stunned behind him while he gave the order, face blank as she processes what could have happened. The smaller members of the group aren't honestly that much help when it comes to his movement, but if FCG could be pale, they would be, so Ashton lets them hold his hand and appreciates the warm flow of healing still being pumped into him.

And that leaves Orym. Quiet by nature, Ashton is disconcerned to find him near silent. He appears to have retreated into some sort of training, because even though he can see Orym moving slightly behind him, the halfling makes no noise. It's not until they reach the room Ashton was sharing with FCG that Orym says "I'll take them. I bought some healing potions before this, that I can use if we need to. You two get some rest, that took a lot out of you, Letters."

FCG pushes one last burst of healing into Ashton and squeezes their hand. With a firmness rarely heard, they say, "we are going to talk about that later. When I've gathered my thoughts." Ashton wants to bring him in for a hug, but the body language says he wouldn't be welcome. Tomorrow, maybe.

The two of them transfer his care to Orym and Chetney gives a small wave, pulling a lingering FCG into his room. Ashton can hear him muttering something to FCG but doesn't try to make it out, focus narrowing to the small figure standing like a statue in front of him.

Orym also hasn't met his eyes once since he opened them. Ashton waits.

With a hand on his thigh, Orym pushes him into the room and shuts the door. The silence presses in on them, and Ashton almost breaks the silence, but knows any words he wants to say need to take a back seat to whatever is brewing in Orym.

"What was that." Orym's voice comes flat like a bit of flint, wanting to be struck. Ashton chooses his words carefully.

"The stronger I am, the better chance we have to win this fight. The shard made me stronger."

"The shard made you dead." And Ashton does flinch at that. A tiny convulsion of muscles he doesn't have, at the pain in Orym's voice that's seeping into the coldness. "You exploded, and you reformed, and we watched while only two of us could do anything at all." His fists shake by his sides and with effort he flexes them and sits down on the bed. Ashton doesn't sit next to him, but on the floor in front, forcing himself to look up into eyes that swell with tears. Ashton makes an aborted movement towards Orym's hands, stopping themselves at the last moment, only for Orym to close the gap and squeeze.

Tears begin to slip silently down his cheeks and Ashton doesn't regret his choice - he's alive, he has more power with which to help his friends - but he regrets that it caused these tears. "I'm alive, I made it. Orym-" and he rocks back with the force of Orym throwing his arms around them. Long buried instincts kick in and he lifts his arms to return the embrace. Orym has always been careful with his touches, especially with Ashton, and the intensity of this one gives him pause. Orym pulls back and runs his hands through his hair, making it stick up with sweat.

"You idiot -" and suddenly Ashton is being kissed for the second time that day. After the shard settled he'd felt warmth flood his body, and then recede to a gentle simmer. It comes rushing back with the feel of Orym's chapped lips pressed to his, and he rests his hands on Orym's waist, unable to do anything more than helplessly kiss back.

And as soon as it started, Orym retreats and is halfway to the door before Ashton stands up with some notion of stopping him. But Orym stops at the threshold, turning back to say, "I don't know if what I'm feeling for you is going anywhere, but you dying before I can figure it out isn't going to help anyone. Stop throwing yourself into danger, Ashton. Please." And with that he's gone.

Ashton stands stock still, lips buzzing, new arm tingling. "Well, fuck."

[icarushasfallenfromthestars]

That dream angst fuckin wrecked my heart..any chance for a part 2 with comfort(im not the og requester so if not thats fine its just OUGH my heart)

So both you and the og requester asked for a part 2, which means I'm definitely gonna do it! (I'd do it even if the og didn't ask so lmao) I HAD TO REWRITE THIS 12 GOD DAMN TIMES BECAUSE TUMBLR IS SHIT AT SAVING THINGS

I'm honestly so glad people enjoy my writings! Feel free to request more! My inbox is open and I have no requests lined up yet!

Once again. This is a completely fictitious story and version of Clay.

TW: Panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts,

Part one

Found (Outside The Screen) (Dream x GN! Reader) Part 2

"(Y/n)!"

His voice echoed through the house as you scrambled around corners to escape the possible wrath of your boyfriend. Or maybe even soon to be ex boyfriend.

Despite living in this house with him for a little over two years, it was beginning to feel like a maze. You couldn't tell which way was left and which way was right, your head spinning with panic as you gasped for breath.

He's gonna find you...

The house wasn't even that big, and quite an open concept, so you had no idea why you were finding it so confusing. All you knew at the moment was...

Get out.

Once your eyes landed on the door that lead out, you made a beeline towards it and flung it open. Maybe you should've known better than to attempt to run from the manhunt god...

The footsteps pounding against the floor not too far behind you startled you enough to jump outside and slam the door behind you in hopes of giving yourself enough time to run farther.

There were plenty of things failing to register in your mind as you ran down the empty sidewalks. Such as the poor choice (or lack) of shoes you were wearing, or even the heavy night rain pelting down on your shaking body.

Your lungs were burning.. But your brain had thrown itself so far into fight or flight mode that you had no care for anything around you, hardly blinking twice as the signs of unfamiliar street names flew past you.

Eventually, when you physically couldn't breathe any longer, you sat on a bench and took awhile to think. The consistent rain pelting down on your head was actually a decent grounder to help you snap yourself out of it... But that only caused more confusion and another wave of panic to wash over you.

Where... were you?

Doesn't matter. Don't go back.

Oh God... He hates you..

Why wouldn't he..?

He was too embarrassed to show you to his chat!

What did you do that was so embarrassing?

God.. What was so wrong with you that he stayed in his streaming room for days on end!?

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you choked back a few sobs, trying your best to keep what was left of your composure. Very quickly, however, you gave up on trying to hold yourself together and broke down, hiding your face in your knees.

Time seemed to pass by way too quickly but also way too slowly at the same time.. Like time itself was giving you the one finger salute. When you finally stopped crying, you leaned back against the back of the bench and gave a shaky sigh before you decided to attempt to think rationally again.

You had no clue where you were. Nothing looked familiar. What time is it? No clue, you don't have your... Your phone!

You quickly scrambled to your pocket to pull out the cellular device, and stared at the black screen for a few seconds. Anxiety was the reason for your hesitance as you stared into your reflection, frowning slightly. Without thinking twice, you pressed the button and the screen lit up with various arrays of colours.

78 Missed calls from Clay💚

2 Missed calls from George👓🇬🇧

7 Missed calls from Sapnap🔥

Was... He so mad that his friends were trying to yell at you too? You tilted your head slightly and scrolled through the other notifications on your lockscreen.

Twitter seemed to be losing their minds over your boyfriend's stream and wondering who the stranger was. Seeing the headlines flooded you with immeasurable guilt and you almost put your phone down again, if your phone didn't start buzzing.

You glanced down at the screen and say Clay was making call number 79... Man, he was persistent.. and he would probably continue to call until you answered...

Your finger hovered over the decline button, before slowly moving over and landing on the green one instead. "...Hello...?"

"(Y/n)...?" Had... He been crying...? "Oh my god! You're alive!" He gasped out with glee before giving a few sobs of... relief...?

"...You... Aren't... Mad?" You whispered very softly and hesitantly, your voice scratchy and sore from crying.

He sighed and there was a little bit of shuffling as well as a few male voices in the background. "No. Not in the slightest... Where are you? I want to apologize in person.. And when it doesn't sound like you're in a hurricane.."

You lifted your head up to look at the rain that was continuing to pelt down on you before looking around. "..I'm not sure.." You heard your partner echo your statement in question form as you looked for street signs through the rain. Glancing back at your phone, you saw the screen light up again, this time it was a warning label.

Your battery was almost dead...

"C-Clay.. My phone is going to die.." You murmured softly, your heart filling with dread as you turned down your brightness and closed any unnecessary apps.

There was a little bit of clattering and shuffling on the line as Clay hurriedly walked from the windows to the door, trying to see you from the home. "G-give me landmarks! Hurry!" He practically begged as you shot up from your bench, ignoring the burning soreness in your legs.

Spinning around quickly, you began listing off a few company buildings you saw, trying to shout over the rain and a few cars driving by. "Yeah-yeah! There's also that little sushi place beside the restaurant too.."

You heard the furious typing of his computer before another almost sob of relief. "You're on Rosewood Avenue... How the hell did you run that far? Okay, you're going to walk in the opposite direction of the sushi place until you reach a road called Miller Road, got that?" He waited for a verbal noise of agreement before continuing, "Once you get there, turn left and keep walking straight until you get to a steakhouse. I'll meet you half way, if you don't see me there, don't move unless you have to. Got it?" He asked firmly, with a small hint of desperation in his tone.

You rubbed your face as you mentally repeated the directions to yourself. "Yeah.. Yeah.. I got it." You began to walk along the sidewalks, your shoulders beginning to tremble from the water induced shivers trailing up and down your spine.

"..(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I lov-"

Your phone died..

Pulling the device away from your head, you pressed the buttons a few times before groaning and shoving it into your pockets as you began to walk.

Your mind was blurry but also hyper aware along the walk to the road where Clay told you to go. 'What was he going to say? If... He doesn't hate me... was he going to say- No.. no. He hadn't said that line in over a few months now.. No reason why he would say it now..' You mentally scolded yourself.

The rain didn't seem to be too keen on letting up as you walked through large rippling puddles. Your clothes were soaked, your hair completely drenched and you were pretty sure you were gonna need to buy a new phone with how much your current one was getting waterlogged..

You rose your arm to shield your face from the onslaught of water that a car had caused by driving through a large puddle before running your hand down your face.

Part of you was still a bit.. angry... at Clay... He had ignored you for so long and wanted nothing to do with you.. Then suddenly you spill hot coffee on yourself and then boom, you have the man more focused than when he has a good speed run seed. What about all those times you were begging him to come to bed, or at least eat dinner at the table with you? Did you only matter when you were in pain?

Biting your lip, you shook off the thought as you looked up again to see the steakhouse that you were directed to go to, the signs glowingly and people shuffling in and out through the doors...

Then there was another man, standing under a large black umbrella wearing a damp lime green hoodie...

Only you'd recognize that face anywhere where others wouldn't.. Standing in the street lights perfectly was your boyfriend, Clay.

Your heart trembled but also melted slightly upon seeing that he wasn't paying attention to his screen anymore. You. He was focused on finding you...

As you began to walk closer, you saw him lift his head and stare at you for a few seconds before dropping the umbrella and lunge forward to wrap you in a loving embrace. "I'm sorry.." Was the first thing he whispered, his voice almost as hoarse as yours. "I know.. that a simple apology will never excuse what I put you through... You cared for me, and even after a stupidly ignored you... You still didn't leave, or get angry. I don't deserve you, I know that, and you have every right to be upset, angry or whatever you're feeling right now.. Please, it doesn't matter how long it takes... Just let me make it up to you and let me prove myself worthy of your love again.."

Your lips parted in surprise as you stared at him, the streetlight poorly capturing his normal beauty, but still doing it well enough that you felt your heart soar. "Clay..." Your eyes traced his features, his puffy and reddened eyes and his cheeks stained with tear tracks, "You have a lot to work and make up for... I'm not going to forgive you immediately, but I'm not going to leave you.. We can work things out.. Together, okay?"

He eagerly nodded and gently held your face in his hands before pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "I'll break away from video editing and streaming for a while.. So I can focus on repairing things with you.."

You buried your face into the male's sweater, that was beginning to become soaked as well from the rain and you, and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

"(Y/n)?"

"Mm..?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Clay."

[gothamsglam]

Can I have Your Name? (a SamBucky ficlet)

for @samshield hope you enjoy 😘

(also on ao3 under @/the_fifth_marauder101)

---

“Thanks, can I have your name?” asked Bucky with a charming smile on his face, pulling out a sharpie. However, instead of writing on an empty class as the poor customer thought, he scribbled down “Tony” on one of those ‘Hello, my name is…’ stickers.

“That’s a wonderful name by the way,” Bucky compliments, because fck you Steve, he can be polite. 

He fcking told Steve going into customer service was a great idea. Idiot wanted to continue doing door to door shit, or, even worse, mope around forests for wandering travelers. He told him it wasn’t the 1400s anymore, and to grow up. Damn the supernatural council and their ‘hunt in pairs’ rule, he will go rouge and leave Stevie, he will do it. 

“I’m this close,” Bucky had hissed, holding his fingers in the air so Stevie could see, 

“Your fingers are touching,” Steve deadpanned. 

“Exactly.”

The man doesn’t look up from his flurry of typing, “Thank you, it’s a family name.”

“Sure,” Bucky replies quietly “Alright, your order will be right out,” Bucky grinned, replacing his name tag with the new one without looking away from the brown-haired customer. The second the tag sticks to his shirt, he feels a refreshing rush of energy. Kind of like what he imagines those ‘caffeine/sugar rush’ those damn teens keep harping about. 

“Thank y—” The customer—Tony—looks up from his phone to flash him a grin, only to have it fall from his face when he sees the name tag. 

This was the fun part. Bucky didn’t break eye contact, maintaining it with the same smile, only now he could tell it felt eerie to the human. Like something wasn’t right. 

The man’s brown eyes flitted up and down between Bucky’s face and the name tag, before he surged forward, “What di—”

“Have a good day,” Bucky bit out, still keeping the smile and cheery customer service tone. His eyes were blank, he made sure of it. Honestly, this whole song and dance was unnecessary. Stevie usually just wrote the name tags, and then stuck them on as he was making the drinks. Their shop was typically slow enough that there wouldn’t be people behind to question why the tender had a new name. But Bucky loved to fck with humans. What the hell else was he supposed to do? He’s been alive for 70 generations, let him have his fun. 

However, today was a bit different. Another two walked into the shop, Bucky didn’t see it as much as he felt it. Bucky kept his back turned, hollering “Welcome to Stars and Stripes, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” over his shoulder as he made the three drinks. What asshole ordered three drinks?

Bucky’s question was answered when he saw the two men walk over to Tony’s table. One of them kissed Tony on the cheek and the other just faux-gagged before giving Tony a hug as well. Bucky called out the order, eyes tracking the way Tony mumbled something to the two men and both reacted oddly, as they probably should. Bucky would expect no less. 

Apparently, he jinxed himself, because the man who hugged Tony came to pick up the drinks. 

“Nice name,” said the man.

“Thanks,” Bucky flashed his uncanny valley smile and offered nothing else. The man winked and then walked back to the table. 

Bucky did not look at his ass, he didn’t. 

---

The next day, the man comes in. Not Tony, but other guy. The cute one. 

“Hi my name’s Jacob, how may I help you today?” Bucky asks politely. 

The man, to his credit, didn’t bat an eyelash, “Hi I’ll have three—” And he rattled off the same order that Tony had. Bucky resisted the urge to frown, maybe it was just a two-time thing? This group has only come into their shop once before, what are the odds of it happening again, for a third time?

“Perfect,” Bucky slid the receipt across the counter, “Can I have your name?” Bucky asked, as he reached for a pen. 

“Nope,” the man replied. 

Bucky froze in his moments, “What?”

The man shrugged, face showing nothing but politeness, “I’m the only person in this store, you’ll be able to find me.”

Bucky was stunned as he watched him walk back to the spot the trio was in the other day. As he sat down, the man gave a nod of acknowledgment to Bucky, who was still staring. 

His brown—almost hazelnut with the light of the sun—eyes stared into Bucky’s own, and in them all he saw was mischief. 

Fck.

---

For the next two days, Bucky kept a—subtle, he wasn’t obsessed or anything—watch out for Tony or The Man. And for those two days, he didn’t see hide or hair of them. Bucky figured they must have been college students from nearby campuses, wandering in when Starbucks was too full, which happens often enough. Then on the third day, he returned. 

“Hey, Jacob” greeted The Man, his smile so bright—so bright that Nat would have burned like she does under the sun and threaten to bite the man in the jugular. Bucky, who was too gobsmacked to even deliver his customer service opening, stared at him. 

“Not Jacob,” Bucky said, his voice strangled. 

The Man chuckled, his eyes sparkling with the same look from the first day he ordered, “Ok ‘Not Jacob’, may I have—” And repeated the same order from the last two times. 

“Um, right, uh” Bucky stammered, face growing hot as The Man raised an eyebrow at him smugly, “Can I have your name?”

“Put Redwing,” The Man said, shrugging. The corner of his lips pulled upwards into a happy smirk—how can a person have a fcking happy smirk?—, not that Bucky was only looking at his lips or anything. 

“Redwing?” Bucky asked, stupidly. Because why ask, idiot, why ask for clarification? He read somewhere that the psyche is powerful enough to make the body do things, like fake pregnancies. Whether that’s something only reserved to humans is up for debate, but maybe, if Bucky doesn’t ask and lives in blissful ignorance, he can feed off of a fake name. But no, because he’s a bloody fool, he asked. 

“It’s my pet’s name,” The Man answered, then looked tilted his head, giving a sheepish smile, “Or at least, that’s what I want to name a pet, I don’t have one.”

“Right,” Said Bucky, suddenly feeling empty in ways that have nothing to do with hunger, “Your order will be right out.”

Their conversation was longer than normal, so when the man went to sit down, the couple came in moments afterward. All three sat in the same place as before. 

‘Oh no,�� Bucky thought in dawning horror, ‘Regulars.’ 

---

“Falcon,” grins The Man, now foregoing any attempts to be subtle and simply being a little shit.

Bucky looked at him, face void of any amusement. At this point, he’s shucked the polite customer service voice and snarked back and forth with the regular like there’s no tomorrow—only in this situation, there is a tomorrow, there always is tomorrow.

Their staring contest probably goes on for a bit too long, judging by the way Tony and his boyfriend—Bucky can feel comfortable calling the two a couple, based on how disgustingly affectionate the two get in the cafe—walk in. 

The Man flashed a smile and turned away to greet the couple. An audible ‘Rhodey!’ reached Bucky’s ears. Now, finally, he has a name for one of the dark-skinned men, the one who kissed Tony’s cheek and was currently walking in with said Tony, arm around his shoulders. Only Bucky doesn’t feel that familiar warmth pool in his gut, refreshing his energy levels. 

‘Oh,’ Bucky thinks, and watches as the man—his regular—laughs with his friends but also how his eyes flit back to peek at Bucky as names are spoken. ‘oh, loopholes.’

Bucky is so screwed. 

---

The names his regular gives become increasingly goofy, and Steve teases him about how flirty they get—Bucky absolutely didn’t have a favorite, and it absolutely wasn’t Angel. But Bucky only believed Stevie when he got a number instead of a random moniker. 

“What?” Bucky short-circuited. 

The man just sighed, “Come on, I gave you my number, work with me here.”

“You finally did it, huh, Sam?” Tony called out from where he was typing away on his computer, which rested on Rhodey’s legs. Rhodey, who was sprawled out in one of their chairs, nudged Tony with his foot, “Shush, let them have this.”

‘Sam,’ Bucky thinks,  and all he can come up with in his blue screened mind is, ‘Perfect’.

In his phone, the name Sam’s contact is under is ���Angel’.

Steve heckles. 

---

“How did you know, Angel?”

Sam looks at Bucky, and Bucky’s struck into silence, The whole world falls around them in muted sounds and lights fade into balls of blurry color, because as they lock gazes all Bucky can notice is Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes—his wonderful, soul-deep eyes that shine with mischief and laughter, that glow so bright and rival the heavens when the sunlight reflects off it just so—are sad. 

“My friend,” Sam says quietly, “Riley. He was one of yours.”

Bucky nods, and reaches out with his metal hand—an injury from decades ago and a gift from a shapeshifter who hissed that his debt was repaired before slithering off into the night—pulling Sam closer to him. They watch the sun go down from the top of the roof, the stars revealed one by one, twinkling against the darkness of the dusk. 

---

(One day, Bucky will ask for Sam’s name again, specifically his last name. Only then, will Sam reply honestly.)

---

AN: This is a more bastardized version of faeries/fae, I just made up my own creature for what Bucky and Steve are. Simply because I just wanted to write a little ficlet about SamBucky and didn’t do much research. Don’t think too hard about it :)

(and the link to the Tik Tok I saw on tumblr that inspired this is also linked on my ao3 fic)

Hope you enjoyed! 

-vix

[heli0s-writes]

I. What's in a name (that which we call a Bucky)

Summary: What kind of name is BUCKY? Your dog's name is BUCKEYE. Much better. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N: A more humorous work... be alert: everyone in this fic is a lil shit. Dog-lover reader. Enemies to friends to lovers and strap in kiddos, we’re going to Ohio!

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

It’s past midnight when the bell on your doorknob titters. A high-pitched whine follows the noise and you drop the book in your hand before emitting a loud groan of annoyance. As a response to your complaint, footsteps quickly pad back towards the computer room you sit in.

“God damn it,” you scold towards the door, “I just took you out like an hour ago.”

It’s half-serious, half-playful as you point a finger towards the 50-pound mass of pure muscle now pitifully cocking his head to the side. Your dog, Buckeye, lovingly named after your alma-mater’s mascot whines pathetically as he falls forward onto his two front paws and gives you the saddest look he can muster. The slate-grey skin between his eyes bends upwards in crinkly folds as he continues to peer at your perched figure on the swivel chair.

You shuffle your desk space around, placing the heavy tome from your hand over the mountain of other paperbacks scattered about. Taking one final look over the paper you’d been working on for the last two weeks, you hit save, making sure it uploads itself to the online drive before stepping away.

The clock on the lower right-hand corner of your monitor reads 2:30. Fuck. Way more than past midnight. You had been so focused on writing you didn’t even realize how late it was. Sending an apologetic look to your dog, you rub his ear before heading down the hallway and grabbing the leash by the door. Poor guy, you hadn’t taken him out in almost four hours.

He’s striding towards you, tail wagging back and forth at the sight of your hand on the leash. His tongue flops out stupidly and you giggle at how dumb he looks. Before clipping the leash to his collar, you give him a big kiss on the head and push your face affectionately. He’d come such a long way in the past five months.

“Okay, big baby. Let’s go.”

The training bell hanging from the knob flails against the door as you step outside, closing it shut.

You and Buckeye head downstairs, your slippers squishing against the wet grass as he leads you over to his favorite sniffing grounds. Under the lamp, you scroll on your phone distractedly, making sure you’d replied to all the e-mails you had received earlier in the day. Eyeing him from time to time to make sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you tap out a quick response to a group message from some classmates. They’re probably awake at this time anyway, you muse bitterly, graduate school can be a real bitch like that. Tucking the phone into your back pocket, you fiddle a doggy bag from its container strapped to the leash and maneuver it over your hand.

“No sniffing that poo.” You command Buckeye, and he gazes back over his shoulder at you for a single brief second, as if truly contemplating your authority before giving it a quick whiff anyway. You scoff before tugging him from the pile and further back into the grass. “C’mon, Buck. Dude, I gotta get back in. Please poop. The bag’s ready for you.”

You wave it around helplessly as he traipses on, keeping close, but really pushing your patience. Ten minutes later, you decide you’ve had it with him and start tugging him back towards the sidewalk. He resists at first and you have to use your “mom” voice a couple of times before he follows your lead and drags himself back to your side.

This was the usual routine of your life: wake up, go to campus, work on campus, work from home, find time to eat, work some more, go to bed. In-between all of those activities was of course, take Buckeye outside to jog, pee, shit, and socialize… when he was up for it.

You “adopted” the big lug from the shelter six months ago, falling head over heels for that stupid white oblong patch (you called it his Penis Patch because c’mon… it looked like one) and that wrinkly-ass forehead of his. He had been abused as a puppy and then abandoned in an alleyway with a handful of other pit bulls. By the time he got to the animal shelter, he was massively underweight and terrified of being near humans. He was only two months old. It took a lot of work on your end to get him back to a normal weight and as much as people loved to praise how you “saved” him- it was honestly the opposite that happened.

Yes. It was cheesy and gross as fuck to admit out loud, but that dumb animal actually saved you.

If you hadn’t adopted him and decided he was going to be your tether to this fuck-ass world, you were cock-sure you’d have tied yourself a noose out of bedsheets already. It’s what you told your therapist because it was just the damn truth.

The spring air of Manhattan whips over your face as you make your way towards the stairs of your unit, taking glances here and there to make sure nothing scary was happening. Your location was relatively safe, but honestly, you never know with people. You had seen your fair share of frightening and inexplicable things from your time in New York.

As if you were summoning the bad luck to your doorstep, gunshots ring out from a few blocks away. At least you hope it is, because the echo throughout your apartment unit suggests that it’s much closer. Buckeye starts twitching, darting left and right at the sound. You’re steeling your body as he begins to pull and snap at him with your fingers, calling his name. He heads quickly towards the apartment. Another shot resonates between the buildings.

On your right, Buckeye lets out a high-pitched yelp and jumps as rapid footsteps approach behind you. You barely make it two steps out of the way before a heavy body barrels into you and knocks you onto the sidewalk. Both your knees hit the concrete hard and you immediately roll to your side and fumble to find the leash that fell from hand. Your dog is losing it, and frankly, you are about to as well.

He starts to take off towards the darkness of the grass and you’re screaming his name, trying to scramble up to catch the plastic handle of the retractable leash that’s dragging against the ground. His tongue is loose and panting as he whips his head back and forth between you and the darkness, unsure of where to go.

“Come here! Come!”

You ignore the searing in your kneecaps and reach out as you take a step. Before you can make it much farther, an arm swings itself over your neck and strangles the rest of your words.

A single shot fires off at your dog. Buckeye is outta there. He’s yelping the whole way and you cannot stop yourself from shrieking.

“Don’t fucking speak.” A voice growls behind you. The body it belongs to is distinctly masculine as they knee you in the back and prop you up to stand beside them. The cold barrel of a gun presses itself against your temple and you freeze, hands quivering at your sides. Your heart has either imploded or is about to because you can’t tell if it’s beating or not anymore. There is ringing in your ears from the gun being fired in such close quarters, your eyes struggle to focus.

You have so many questions, but your mind is currently a squirrel in traffic running between the front axle of two tires labelled: “Is this where I fucking die?” and “Is my dog okay?”. Getting splattered to bits by either one was dealer’s choice, and your dealer didn’t seem too choosy.

In the distance, footsteps approach and you see two large frames enter your blurry field of vision, lit up under the streetlamp. There are two glimmering silver shapes reflecting that flickering light, one in the shape of a … dinner plate? And the other… another dick. What the hell? Oh god, you think automatically about your dick-spot-shaped dog. Where is he?

“Let her go!” the dinner plate yells. The barrel presses further into your head.

“Drop your weapons!” your assailant calls back, “Or she dies!”

You’re in a bad procedural cop show or something, you swear. Or Ashton Kutcher is 50 years old and he is laughing his ass off in a van right now, filming a new season of Punk’d. You squeeze your eyes shut when the gun clicks against your head, which is generally right after it goes off, according to the movies. There’s a warm sensation against your back and you hope to god that it isn’t you pissing yourself. When you smell the coppery scent rising, you realize it’s the man’s blood. When he sways a little and your body droops with him, you are positive it’s his blood.

The funny silver California/dick shape in the distance moves and becomes a small circle, with a dark spot in the middle. Is that a fucking gun? You blink a couple of times to see the shadowy outlines of the two people stepping closer. There’s aggravated whispering from both of them and your attacker begins to yell about something before a deafening blast cracks past your eyes.

Warm blood sprays on your face when the man falls backwards, heavy limb taking you down with him. You get some of it in your mouth and you scramble to fuck off as far as you can from this now dead body. The two shapes are running towards you, one of them gripping you hard by the arm and pulling you up.

“Buckeye! That is not protocol!”

You dizzily shake your head at the sound of your dog’s name and find your balance on the sidewalk, toes pressing against your slipper to have it back on your foot correctly. In front of you were two enormous men, and you recognize them immediately: Captain America and Winter Soldier.

“You know I don’t miss.” The Soldier retorts, bottom half of his face obscured by his signature black latex mask. It muffles his voice, but you can clearly hear the agitation. Captain America looks over your dripping red knees. “You okay, ma’am?”

You ignore him. As far as you are concerned at this point, they’re both just as dead to you as this other fucker on the ground. You want to find your dog.

“Buck?” You call into the patch of darkness as you carefully tread into the grass, wincing when your knees sting with every step. You don’t see the two Avengers looking at each other in confusion.

“BUCK!” You scream again, panic returning to your chest as you think about your dog scurrying around in the dark, dragging his damn leash, and spiraling back into the hot mess he was six months ago. Damn it, it had taken you so long to train him out of being skittish, and now he was going to be right back in it. You look around the dark, turning the flashlight on your phone and follow what looks like to be a trail of blood. It’s not yours, so you correctly deduce it’s Buckeye.

You start to hyperventilate, shaking with every step.

“Oh, Buck, you piece of shit you, I swear to god, if you’re dead, I’m going to kill you.”

“…Ma’am?”

You whip around and glare at Captain America, “What!” He takes a step back, hands coming up as if to deflect your outcry. His partner next to him places his gun back in the holster at his hip with a quiet click, eyeing you suspiciously. Captain America looks around, like he’s surprised you’ve yelled, because he probably doesn’t get yelled at very often by people he saves.

“…Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Th’ broad’s mental.” The Soldier scoffs, heading back towards the limp body on the ground. He digs his hands into every pocket of the corpse, even opening the mouth to peer inside. “We need to move this body.” He pulls out a tiny USB from a sewn-on pocket inside the vest and puts it in a pouch on his belt.

“I’m looking for my damn dog.” You hurl, “I’m looking for my fucked-up rescue dog, who was doing very well and on his way to being a proper good boy, before you fucks came along and shot him!”

You hear yourself being more and more hysterical with every syllable. Your pitch is increasing with your heart rate, and the part of you that fears retribution from super soldiers is raising its hand up to be called on by your dominant lizard-brain. Your lizard-brain is soaked in fear and refuses the hand.

“That guy shot your dog.” The Soldier nudges the body with a steel-toed boot.

“You scared him! He’s afraid of loud noises and you were shooting up the place, you trigger-happy motherfucker,” you point a finger to the offending Avenger, “You could have shot me, you bag of limp dicks.”

Winter Soldier lets your insults slide; you’re definitely off your meds, he thinks. “Like I said, I don’t miss.”

Captain America finally snaps his shield back onto his back and runs a hand through his hair. You’re half surprised he’s not wearing that dorky-ass helmet he’s usually sporting but turn around regardless and start walking faster, ignoring the muddier ground the further you go in. From the position next to the soon-to-be chalk outline, the two Avengers argue quietly before one of them groans and they both fall silent. You figure they’ve kissed and made up.

Grass is shuffling behind you as Captain America effortlessly catches up to your uneven steps.

“I can track your dog. Let me help.”

You say nothing because you’re so preoccupied with being pissed off that this happened in the first place and because you honestly couldn’t refuse the help regardless of how overinflated your pride was. You couldn’t see for shit in the dark and you’d rather have Buckeye back than any amount of satisfaction flinging insults could bring. Stepping back, you let Brown-Beard take the lead and follow him through the mud and into the back of a unit now five buildings away.

When you slip on a particularly wet patch, he’s quick to grab your elbow and support you. He also takes it as an opening to make conversation.

“What’s type of dog is…”

“Buckeye.” You say, pulling your elbow away and falling back into step. He turns around and raises a single eyebrow.

“Buck…eye?” The second syllable is dropped low- as if he’s unsure that it’s the right thing to say.

“….Yes. Buckeye.” You hiss back.

“Buck…eye.” He repeats again, moving the sounds around in his mouth carefully. You pull a face but say nothing. Boy they sure like to make ‘em big and dumb, don’t they?

“He’s a pit bull. He’s gray with a white patch on his chest. He’s not fucking lethal or anything- like people think he’s just… damaged. He’s not even full-grown; just an oversized ball of anxiety and post-traumatic stress.” Your voice becomes distressed the more you talk about your good boy, and you decide to shut up before you can burst into tears.

“We’ll find him, promise.” Captain tries to send you a smile, but it gets misplaced in the thick of his beard and you’re not even looking anyway, pretending to follow the trail so he doesn’t see your eyes well up. You’re thankful for his help. But fuck him still; he scared your dog.

“There’s no more blood, which is good,” He says, “Steps are getting closer together, so he’s not running anymore. There’s a funny… thing- though. What’s he dragging?”

“His leash.” You mutter.

“Ah.” There’s a pause, “You know, that’s actually a good thing- it’ll slow him down.”

 It’s at least another twenty minutes of walking in silence as you follow Captain Star Spangled Banner out of your apartment complex and down three completely decrepit alleyways, at least one littered with broken glass. Upon entering the fourth one, you swear you hear clattering in the back and pick up your speed, calling out.

“Buck? Buckeye? Is that you?” Your voice is quivering in the dark. Your companion has stilled beside you, not letting his footsteps drown out your voice. “Buckeye, come here.” You’re as careful as can be as you quietly step forward, a tiny bit closer to the slow shadow in the corner.

When a car drives by on the main road, the shine of headlights reflects two glowing blue pearls that you’d recognize anywhere. His tail is wagging happily against the pavement of the alleyway, and it breaks your heart to see he’s battered in blood.

You put both your arms around him to settle him from possibly scurrying away at the sight of Captain’s figure, who hangs in the back, but is still so large that it disturbs Buckeye. “My big guy,” You sob into his stupid, dirty neck, “You’re all muddy... Oh Buck, you big idiot… you dummy.”

You find the handle on the leash again, but Buckeye is tentative to follow, stumbling when he stands up on all four feet. When you lean over to examine him, he’s all cut up on his paws and you see it now, the big streak of open flesh on his upper thigh that’s crusted over into a brown stripe. The shiny fur that’s beneath it is matted with more dried blood and it’s so large that you break out into tears all over again. You don’t think he’s able to walk anymore, which might have worked out in your favor; it did stop him from running.

Captain slowly makes his way toward the two of you and reach both hands out, kneeling and laying one gently underneath Buckeye’s snout to scratch him. Your dog inspects the hand nervously before giving it a quick lick. He pants happily at the scratch to his chin and you can’t help but snort at his simplicity. Captain offers to pick him up for you and you let him, surprised that Buck’s letting someone other than you be so close. You’re glad for it, though, since you would not have been able to pick him up out of the alleyway on your own.

“I’ve been compared to a Golden Retriever before,” Captain says amiably as he easily holds Buckeye in his arms, leading you out of the dark path. He’s got a glint in his eye like he’s real proud of himself for that quip. “I definitely think of myself as a dog person.”

You scoff and save your retort for another time, pointing him in the direction of your local pet emergency hospital instead.

-

It must have been a sight for them, Steve ponders as he sits in the waiting chair of the hospital, giving away smiles at the receptionists and nurses who occasionally gather to stare at him. When the automatic doors slid open, they probably weren’t expecting Captain America in full tactical gear to walk in with a dog in his arms. Not to mention the young woman who followed, looking in not much better shape than the dog.

He glances over to you as you lean back in the plastic chair resembling more of a bucket than anything comfortable. Both your knees are completely skinned raw and the trail of blood reached your feet, caked in mud. The woman at the front desk offered you some bandages and antiseptic, which you’d haphazardly sloshed all over yourself before resigning to let it be. Your eyes have slipped closed as you wait for the nurse to come talk to you about your dog; it is late, after all—nearly four in the morning, and Steve lets you rest when he hears your breathing slow.

He begins to check his phone, punching in a text to Bucky with updates, barely able to hold back the giddy energy inside of him. Bucky was going to flip when Steve cracks open the can of worms that is the dog’s name. And it’s going to completely boil his noodle when he hears that your description of your dog almost perfectly matched Steve’s own description of Bucky. He swears right now, under these old fluorescent lights and with God’s blessing that he would never, ever, let Bucky live this down.

“You… use…a … flip… phone?” Your disbelieving voice is so quiet that Steve thinks a ghost is making fun of him.

“Well, it does flip, and it is a phone.” He retorts, face completely blank for a couple of seconds before breaking out into a smirk.

Your sit up in the chair, looking over to Steve incredulously. “Who are you, my dad?” Your features twist into a disgusted sneer, but he catches the amusement in your eyes.

He chuckles in response. It’s not the first time Steve’s been told that his jokes were corny, at this point in his life, he’s decided to just go with it.

“Don’t you have someplace to be? Maybe more Avenging in another quiet neighborhood?” The snark comes out sharper than you intend it, but between the two hours of sleep last night and probable zero hours of sleep you’ll get tonight, you’re on autopilot.

“It’s being taken care of.” He stares straight ahead. Your comment implies that you’d rather him leave, but he feels in part responsible and obligated to stay. Besides, you’ll need a ride home and someone to carry your pet to the door. “I’m sorry about your dog.”

“He’s not fucking dead,” You huff, “If he was, you and Bicentennial Man would be fucked. You won’t believe how many knives I can carry in my mouth alone.”

Steve almost gives himself whiplash as he does a double-take on your completely placid and unfazed profile view. He thinks it’s better not to ask about the capacity of knives your mouth can hold or about how you know that very specific fact about yourself. However, he can’t help from letting out a wheeze of a laugh because the feral image frankly reminds him more and more of Bucky; Steve has definitely seen Bucky with a knife in his mouth.

Another fifteen minutes pass of drifting in and out of sleep before the nurse peeks her head out and calls you into the treatment room. She stares open-mouthed when Steve followed dutifully behind and closes the door with a quiet click.

Buckeye is lying in a lethargic daze on the table with a plastic cone around his neck. The large gash on his leg has been stitched and carefully covered by gauze and his paws are bandaged up as well. At the sight of the two of you, his tail begins to pat slowly against the smooth surface of the table in quick taps before trailing off and starting back up again. He is looking into your eyes, but Steve can see his gaze wander around the room in a medicated stupor from time to time.  

His stomach tightens when you begin to sniffle and draw lazy circles on Buckeye’s head with your thumb. The nurse runs over the health diagnostic for your pup and all seems pretty well, considering the doleful state he’s in.

“He might not eat for the first day, but you’ll have to try to make him...” The nurse hands you a large zip-loc full of bandages, ointments, pills, and paper. “Keep the cone on for at least two weeks and stick to the dosage schedule… Do you have any questions?”

You shake your head, rifling through the various items in the bag before zipping it back up.

“Okay. Well, he’s doing really good, and I think he’ll make a speedy recovery soon.” The nurse offers you a smile and you reply kindly, thanking her for everything before sighing at Buckeye. Steve steps forward in the silent moment and scoops your dog’s tired body into his arms before thanking the nurse as well. She goes white as a sheet when you open the door to let him out. Steve hopes there won’t be any tweets later about Captain America saving puppies.

 At the front desk, Steve watches you shuffle side to side when the receptionist rings up each cost. Dressed in an oversized Ohio shirt and pajama shorts, it’s obvious you are not prepared for this. You were probably just a college student, and since he didn’t see you make any phone calls to your parents or family members who might foot the bill, he assumes you’re on your own. Before the receptionist can hand you anything, Steve shifts and tilts his right leg forward.

“Can you reach into this pocket?” He asks, startling everyone in the vicinity: you, the receptionist, and your dog. You stare at him dumbly for a minute, grimacing at the leg pointed in your direction and the back-and-forth Captain America’s eyes keep sending you. It goes from your face to his pocket and every time it returns to your face your frown drops more.

“What?”

“For my wallet.”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon… I don’t think you have any other options,” the sentence hangs on a truth you don’t need spoken. You pale and begrudgingly reach for the snap closure on his thigh, widening grimace now making your face look like a melted Dali painting. The receptionists’ eyebrows go higher and higher the closer your shaking hand gets. Captain America bounces his leg to shake the leather case loose as your hand digs inside and gets stuck between fabric and muscle. Buckeye grumbles in his arms at the jostling and his holder whispers a quiet apology before nuzzling him with his nose.

He doesn’t notice you staring. The receptionist does.

When the wallet is finally pried free (why are his pants so tight, anyway? This bitch is dummy thicc, too, you think) he motions for you to pull out a black card with a surprising bit of heft to it. You nervously hand it over and avoid eye contact with him as the transaction finishes, stuffing the damn thing back in and snapping it shut in one swift motion. You can feel your face stuck in a rigid expression of bewilderment the entire time.

“I-- uh... thanks... for that.”

He motions you with his head to go outside and when you follow him through the automatic doors, a black car is parked in front. The Winter Soldier is in the driver seat and reaches over to open the door. He’s taken his mask off and looks over at the Captain with your dog in his arms. He’s all stubbly and homeless-looking, you think, the complete opposite of Golden Boy Rogers in front of you.

An exhausted look passes over his dark features as he glances from Captain to Buckeye to your fucked-up knees. “...Just... get in.”

 The ride is silent save for the sound of Buckeye’s soft whimpers in the fit of a nightmare. You hush him with soft pets and coo his name in his ears. “It’s okay, Buck. I’m here, Bucky.”

The Soldier snaps his gaze up to you from the rearview mirror. Captain America smirks. You catch neither of their expressions, transfixed on your dog who resembles Frankenweenie more than himself. Stupid fucking bad guy. Stupid Avengers.

“What did you just say?” Winter Soldier slowly asks, and you glare at him in the rearview mirror.

“What?” You snap back. What the fuck was his problem? “Mind your fucking business, I’m talking to my goddamn dog.” Buckeye whimpers again and you pat him lightly to soothe his crying. Captain America begins to chuckle quietly from the passenger seat the longer Winter Soldier stares at you. “Eyes on the fucking road.” You hiss when you catch his glare.

He’s probably going to shoot your ass, you think. Your dog begins to whimper again, a broken string of yowling erupting from him before he stills. The taped gauze on his side has started to turn a slight pink. “It’s gonna be okay, Buck.” You sigh.

“Jesus, what the fuck are you saying?” Winter Soldier nearly shrieks as he pulls sharply into a parking space in front of your building. His volume startles your dog and he shoots up with a loud whine, hitting the plastic cone on the back of the driver’s side. You quickly place both hands on his back to settle him down. “Buckeye, it’s okay.”

Captain America is in a full-on giggle fit now, having to hold his sides to stop himself from seizing. He briefly pauses to apologize and puts a hand on your dog’s head, quieting him with a lazy pet.

“It’s her dog, Buck!” “Yeah I know it’s my dog, Buck.” You snarl, confused as to why this is even a topic of discussion.

Red, white, and shit-for-brains starts up again with the laughing. “Th-the dog’s name--” He wheezes. “Is Buckeye.” There’s a flash of recognition that sweeps over the driver’s reflection in the rearview before it turns into one of annoyance. Then it turns into disdain.

“What kind of a fucking name is that?” He spits before smacking his hand into Captain America’s chest.

“Hey! Shut the hell up! That’s my alma mater you uneducated dickbag!” You point to your red Ohio State shirt with the big “O” right in the middle. It’s so worn and old that the red has faded, and the white print of the O is all cracked, but anyone with two braincells knows exactly what that means. You start bellowing the Ohio State Fight Song proudly and halfway through the second note Buckeye starts to howl weakly beside you.

Captain America bursts into another fit of laughter and pounds on the dashboard with his fists.

The Soldier whips around and slams his metal hand against your mouth, pushing your entire head back against the cushion. “Will you shut up!” To spite him, you continue humming to the best of your ability, even with your lip smushed up against your teeth and his cold palm. You raise your middle finger up between his eyes before holding the last note out particularly long.

Buckeye yowls and yips at your side, punctuating the tune with a quiet whine at the end. He lazily reaches up and licks the elbow joint between the front seat, leaving a slobber trail. He notices his reflection in it temporarily before getting distracted by Captain’s chuckle and lying back down.

Winter Soldier finally pulls his arm away and you take the opportunity to spitefully lick a similar stripe onto his palm, leaving it dripping with the spit you’ve accumulated in your mouth.

He crossly slumps in his seat. “I fucking hate this girl.” He mutters.

“It’s mutual, princess.” You retort, rubbing your stiff jaw and running your fingers against your lips. “What’s your problem with my dog’s name?” You’re a bit suspicious because he doesn’t seem like a college sports guy since he was non-responsive to your shirt but he sure as hell is not a fan of your dog.

“Do you know our names?” Captain America asks you, eyes alight. You shrug, because like, not really. World War II was interesting when you were in the sixth grade and morbid as fuck but it totally went in one ear and out the other for your entire college career. Even more boring was the Captain America propaganda, Super Soldier serum, humanity’s hubris bullshit. You were one of the few people you know who was not losing their mind when Tony Stark toured your university. More than anything, he annoyed you; he caused a huge traffic jam on campus and it ruined your route home. They just weren’t your thing—the Avengers.

“I mean, Stevie Ro… Rober—“ you gauge his reaction carefully, “Ronald— Ro— Ross? Rogers!” You breathe a sigh of relief as he memory of Emily Booth in fourth period doodling “Rogers” inside a million hearts appears in your mind. Then you turn to The Soldier and shrug. Plain as day, you could not recall his name whatsoever. You just called him the Dead Commando in that fourth period American History II final paper.

You got a passing grade, so “Dead Commando” stuck.

“It’s James Buchanan Barnes.” He grits out between clenched teeth.

“That’s fancy.” You deadpan, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Bucky. For short.”

“Buck, for even shorter.” Rogers pipes up, still all twinkly in the eyes, waiting for you to put two and two together. Yeah. You do. It makes you want to die a little.

“Ugh.” Is all you can manage.

--

He shows up the next morning in civvies: white T-shirt, navy blue bomber jacket, and well-worn dark jeans. You stare dumbly at him as he leans against your doorframe, almost as wide as the entrance itself. You’re half-asleep and dressed in the clothes you had on last night: crumpled red Ohio shirt, mismatched pinstriped blue and white pajama shorts.

Your phone had been misplaced amidst the ruckus of the search party, so you just planned on missing your meeting today. It wasn’t like you could properly function anyway, barely getting to bed at 5:30 and waking up at the asscrack of dawn with Captain Underpants at your door.

Even his knocks sounded patriotic. Big, strong thumping blows that rattled all the way into your bedroom.

“Rough night?” Steve Rogers asks as you try your best to smooth the flyaways of your bedhead. Stupid, perfect, blonde and blue-eyed giant man.

“Am I being haunted? What are you doing here?” Your voice sounds like gravel in a blender as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

He shrugs, looking down at his shoes and smiling secretively, like he’s got another corny joke up his sleeve. “Just wanted to see how Buck’s doing.”

“Don’t you have your own Buck to babysit? From what I remember, he needs a leash more than mine does.”

You let him in anyway, and your dog is waiting patiently by the couch, tail slapping the carpet as he remembers his savior from last night. Steve starts to coo as he scratches Buckeye’s chin and head, careful not to rile him up too much. He looks in complete ecstasy when Steve picks at a particularly good spot.

You shift awkwardly as you stand by the kitchen bar, leaning against a stool. How does one man still manage to look like his superhero moniker in civilian clothing? You bet yourself that his closet hung the same monochromatic color pallet—as if costume director dressed him, just in case he forgot he was Captain America.

“Well...” you begin, moving to the kitchen to brew yourself some coffee. Halfway to the single-serving French press, you trade it out for the larger one and add extra water in the kettle. You’re not sure what to say, so you shut up and groan inwardly as you grind the beans. You dip into the restroom and return with your toothbrush, scrubbing quietly as you watch Steve get on the floor to rub your dog’s pink tummy.

“If you pet him with your foot he won’t know the difference. Save ya knees, man.”

“This good boy deserves a real tummy rub, doesn’t he?” Captain America is using baby talk on your dog. It makes you feel... all funny.

Steve Rogers stands up and beams at you from across the counter. You frown because his perfect white smile is brighter than the sunlight streaming in through your window. You spit and rinse your toothbrush in the sink to avoid the shine, but he’s still there when you return. Great. Not a dream. Maybe a nightmare.

You take the kettle off the stovetop when it starts to squeak and blurt out another snarky comment just because you really hate silences and love being awkward. “Buckeye’s gonna get neutered soon. Wanna take yours too?”

Captain America chuckles and shakes his head, blue eyes twinkling at the hand on your hip. “You know, that smart mouth o’ yours is gonna get you into trouble one day.” You gulp as you pour the water suddenly aware that there is a real, live, broad-as-hell man standing in your living room and looking at you like you’re somebody... and he called your mouth smart.

You’re also suddenly aware that you look like shit and your hand shakes a little when you place the filter over the top of the floating coffee grinds.

“Fuck, I think I’m already in trouble.” You mutter into your shoulder as you turn.

Steve doesn’t catch the comment and digs his hand into his back pocket, producing the phone you’ve been missing since last night. You sigh in relief when you see it- as good as it was before, partially cracked screen, but still working. It’s warm when he puts it in your hand and you automatically pull a face.

“Butt heat. I mean--- hot! Hot ass!—Oh, damn it.”

You shut your eyes and the world feels like it’s stopped spinning altogether. Please god, you think, please let him be gone when you look again because you don’t think you can stand another minute on this Earth. Damn your stupid no-filter smart mouth.

He’s still there, though, because life is so stupid and whatever creator that exist hates you. His left eyebrow is raised, and he’s crossed his arms over his chest, smirking.

“You need to brush up on your compliments.”

“Not a compliment!” You hiss, “Don’t put people’s phones in your back pocket! You’re too fucking big to be sitting on them. But thank you for giving it back.”

Steve laughs as you push the filter down on the French press. He’s saying something about how Bucky wanted to put his hand through the device, but your ears are ringing too loudly to hear him. You feel relieved anyway, because you think that you’ve reached your quip-quota for the day.

You pour yourself a cup and he puts his hands up to stop you, excusing himself-- somewhere to be, some old lady to save, he says. You fumble around a bottom cabinet for a second before pulling out a thermos and dumping the rest of the press’ coffee into it.

“Since you did hand-deliver my phone to me, it’s the least I can do. It’s blue, too. Complements your eyes.”

He smiles and takes the thermos from you. “That was a good compliment.” He says, all twinkly again.

“Complement, not compliment.” You correct bluntly.

He takes two steps to the door before turning, “No, the compliment was that you noticed my eyes at all.” He laughs when your face scrunches up, miffed. Captain America was a real … sonuvabitch. “By the way... I left you a number for a dogsitter, just in case you need one.” You rotate the flat rectangle of your phone against your chest as he yanks the door open. “It’s a good service. Reliable. And they text, too.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You stare at Buckeye, who whines pathetically at the door.

You cock your head, looking at the time on the splintered screen. Might as well, you think, reading 7:15 flashing back at you. You could make it to campus by 9.

 The meeting drags on with your advisor, and it’s almost noon before you realize that you’re going to get hauled into another one of those pop-up seminars the faculty has been putting on all year. You’ve managed to avoid two because there’s just no fucking time to go! How are they expecting you to finish your thesis, go to class, grade a hundred stupid student papers, hold office hours, respond to a thousand e-mails a day, and keep your sanity?

It’s something you’re eager to complain to your therapist about any time she starts asking about your personal life. Which, you’ve been dodging re-scheduling recently. Shit.

You calculate the hours you’ll be away as you sip room-temperature coffee from a fuzzy paper cup. It’ll be another four hours before you can make it home and Buckeye really needs to go outside and have his bandages changed before then. Shit.

Your thumbprint opens the home screen and you scroll through your contacts, searching for that aforementioned “reliable” dogsitter. You hope to hell they’re also immediately available as you part a crowd of undergraduates to exit the building. Tapping the message bubble button, you open up a new thread.

You: Hello. I was referred to your services by a friend. Are you available today by any chance?

Your phone almost immediately vibrates back and you sigh in relief.

Dogsitter: That was fast.

You’re confused, but another response pops up again.

Dogsitter: What time do you need me to come by? And for how long?

You: ASAP? If that’s okay? Um. My dog is really fine on his own, but he’s been in an accident and I need him to have his bandages changed and given medicine. Also, he needs to be taken for a potty-break.

Dogsitter: Potty break, medicine, bandages. Got it…. And what about your key?

You: Yeah, I’ll send you my location for my key. What are your rates by the way?

You open up your map and set the pin to your location before sharing it with the dogsitter. It feels way too good to be true, but you’re a little crunched for time and even if he’s a crazy serial killer, you’ve got a pit bull and nothing of value in your apartment. You feel pretty secure.

The attempt to share your coordinates is rejected and you close the notification. Your phone buzzes in your hand again.

Dogsitter: My rates really depend on the dog… and shouldn’t you be asking for my name, or some identifying marker to recognize me by before I show up and take your [1/2]

You stare blankly at the green speech cloud. What the hell… even twitter updated its character count to 280… who the hell is living so far in the past… before you can finish your thought, the following green balloon appears.

Dogsitter: house key? Stranger danger, ma’am. [2/2]

All the right gears start clicking in your brain and suddenly two perfect pieces of the puzzle fits together. The mystifying black shadow on the other end of the line begins to come into view.

You: ….Steve... Roberts?

Dogsitter: Rogers!

The sound that erupts from your mouth is inhumanly pathetic, a mixture of a groan and a whine. Who did you piss off in your last life to be this cursed?

Next Chapter

[thatdragonaatashi]

Call me stupid, call me sad

Nora X Fem!Reader

@writing-asperations I finally finished it

(Your pov)

"Shit shit shit" I  mutter, running out of my house, keys in hand. I hop in my car and start it up, looking at the time and cursing myself for sleeping in. I was supposed to be picking up my best friend Nora from work. I was in love with her, but I  didn't want to fuck up our relationship. Both of us, along with my sister Abby, and our friends Owen, and Manny have been together since we were in diapers. They were my family, my people. When my parents died in a car crash, they were all I  had left. Luckily, Abby and her father took me in, only being 7 when it happened. I can still remember waking up in the car, on our way home from a sleepover with Abby and Nora.

The world was upside down, the smell of gas and burning rubber assault my senses. There's a stinging pain in my right arm. Looking over, I  notice large pieces of glass lodged in my upper arm. Before I  could even react, something moving catches my eye. It was my mother, her dark skin stained with crimson. From where I  wasn't sure. 

"Ma?! Wh- you- you're hurt, what's going on?" She looks at me, her eyes brimming with tears. "Darling, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?" I nod my head, not trusting my voice. 

"That's my girl. Ok can you reach your seatbelt? Good, good, I want you to unhook yourself and crawl out the window." She says, blood dripping down from her brow. I can hear sirens in the distance. Something in the back of my mind tells me they won't make it in time.

I do as she says, shuffling out the broken window. Once I make it out, I take in the scene before me. The car was completely wrecked, the front looking caved in. There was a fire spreading quickly, lighting up the road. I move over to my mother's side.

"Ma, tell me what to do, how do I get you out?" I sputter out, dropping to my knees as panic takes me in it's embrace. 

"Honey no, you've got to get away from here. The gas tank is leaking. I'm not going anywhere, my leg is broken. I'm so sorry baby, you know we love you right?" She chokes out.  

"But what about dad, he can help you. I can get him out and we can go get help. You're gonna be ok mommy. I'm strong, I can do something." Tears spill out my eyes, I knew it was worthless, there wasn't enough time. 

"No, no your father- he… just, get away from the car, ok? I don't want you getting hurt anymore." The sirens were closer now, lights coming into view. 

My mother reaches towards her neck, grasping something and yanking it free. It was my grandfather's necklace, a simple gold Ankh. She grabbed my wrist and placed it in my hand, closing it and kissing my knuckles. I hear her mutter a prayer to the Gods. 

"Go, now before it's too late. We will always be with you my little warrior. Be strong and live in the light of the Sun. I love you" with that, she closes her eyes. Despite everything telling me not to, I turn away from her and run as fast as I can, tears streaming down my eyes.

The ambulance finally makes it, the men rush out and begin to make their way to the car. Now on the sidewalk, I watch as the flames reach the gas tank and explode the car. 

Shaking my head, I pull out and begin to drive to Nora's job. I was supposed to pick her up from work 15 minutes ago, seeing as I only live 11 minutes away. I was going to take her home and cook for her as usual. She was always hungry after work. Manny and I were the designated chefs for the group, everyone else didn't know the difference between a pot and a pan. I also enjoyed the look on Nora's face when she ate something of mine that she liked. 

Hearing my phone go off, I pick it up and answer, putting it on speaker before turning my attention back to the road. 

"Hello?" I sound out, not knowing who was on the other end

"(Y/N)! Where the hell are you?! It's been over an hour! I've been blowing up your phone but haven't been able to reach you. What the fuck is taking so long?" Nora's voice filters through the car, bringing a smile to my face. 

"Sorry about that doll, I woke up late. I'm on my way, I just got side tracked with… um, some less than pleasant memories. Give me like, 7 minutes and I'll be there ok?" I can hear a sigh escape her, probably catching on to what I was saying.

"Alright, I understand. You know if you need to talk or something you've got me and the guys. You don't have to deal with this alone." She spoke, voice soft and loving. A tear slips down my cheek. Images of a time long passed flash in my mind. The smell of burning flesh is alive as though I was there again.

"Yeah I know… I'm ok though, it just catches me off guard sometimes. I promise I won't be late again." I try to keep the pain out of my voice. This was my problem to deal with, I didn't need to drag any of them down with me. It's been 10 years, I should be over this by now.

"(Y/N), it's not about you being late, I don't care about that, you're hurting. I'm worried about you, Abby told me you haven't been sleeping lately. Going on more and more dangerous jobs, coming home bruised and bloodied. You haven't even been eating properly. I know you, maybe even better than you know yourself. You're going through something serious. You keep pushing us away but I'm not giving up on you." There was a crack in her voice, great, now both of you were crying.

"I- fuck, listen, I can handle this, I'm a warrior, I'm not letting this stop me. I can fight my own demons. I don't need my friends to worry themselves with my issues. Just, leave it alone, please." By now my vision was blurry with tears. 

I stop at a red light, taking my hands off the wheel and wiping at my face. I can hear the sound of sniffling coming from my phone and my heart sinks. This is why I don't talk about these things. It only makes matters worse. 

"Listen, I'm almost there. I'm gonna pick you up, take you home, make you something to eat and maybe we can talk about it, alright? Now you dry up those tears, you're too beautiful to be sobbin on the side of the street." I manage to get out, hoping that will make her feel better. I hated when she cried. It made me feel like I failed to keep her safe.

"Ok… ok yeah, I'll see you in a sec." She breathes out, clearing her throat. "Hey (Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" The light turns green. I take your foot off the breaks and start driving.

"I love you." Three words, and my brain shuts down. I don't hear the horn honking, I don't see the car coming from my left, all I notice is my breath hitching. 

"Just not the same way I love you" I think bitterly, just the car crashes into me, full force. Everything slows down and fades to black. 

(Nora's pov)

"I love you." If only I could tell her the truth.

There's silence on the other end before I hear honking and then a crashing sound. My ears ring with white noise as fear overtakes me. She was only down the street at the light, I could hear people screaming faintly. I pocket my phone and take off in the direction the noise was coming from. 

"No no no, please. God don't do this to me." I find myself begging. To who, I'll never be sure. I round the corner and dread settles in my bones as I'm faced with a horrific scene. There's a car with it's front crushed like a soda can. I spot (Y/N)'s car a little ways away, the driver's side caved in.

I rush over to the car, her head hanging limp to the side, blood running down her face, staining her shirt. There's sirens in the distance, but all I can focus on is getting her out of the car. The window was cracked but not broken. I can't get the door to open up so I take off  my jacket, wrap it around my arm and break the glass. Reaching in I unbuckle her seatbelt and drag her out. 

By the time I get her a safe distance away from the car, a paramedic rushes up to me with a bag and a stretcher. 

"Ma'am, I need you to step back so I can assess her condition. Do you know this woman?" He asks me, dropping down to his knees to check her pulse. 

"I- yes! Yes she's my best friend, please tell me she's going to be alright." I pleaded, feeling useless as I stand there, doing nothing. I know there wasn't anything I could do, but watching her lie there, breathing shallowly, blood pooling under her, I couldn't help but let despair grip my heart. 

"It's ok ma'am it seems to me that she is only unconscious. Perhaps she has a concussion. If you'd like, you may ride with us to the hospital to get her checked out." He offers looking up and waving his hand to his partner, signaling her over.

"Yeah I would appreciate that very much. She's only 17 so I'll go ahead and call her legal guardian. He should know what happened here." I speak shakily, reaching into my pocket for my phone to call Abby's dad.

"Mr. Anderson? Hey it's Nora, I'm afraid I've got some bad news. Well uh, (Y/N) got into a wreck- no no she's ok all things considered, just unconscious. A few ribs may be broken but that's about it. Yeah I'm here with the ambulance, we're going to the east side hospital. Ok… yes sir, I'll see you there, drive safe." With that I hang up and follow the paramedics to the ambulance, getting in after them.

-At the hospital-

(Abby's pov)

"Where the fuck is my sister?!" I slam my hands down on the counter in front of me, already getting tired of this bitch of a receptionist. 

"Ma'am I already told you, I can't give that information away unless you are a relative of the patient. By your… skin alone, I can tell you have no relation to Miss. (L/N). You are more than welcome to wait until her parents come in." The woman says, turning back to her computer. 

"She doesn't have any fucking parents you stupid bitch, check her damn record!" I growl out. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and turn to see my dad. 

"Abby that's enough, let me handle this. Excuse miss, my name is Jerry Anderson, I am (Y/N)'s legal guardian. As my daughter here was trying to say, (Y/N)'s parents died 10 years ago in a car accident, I adopted her and have been her caregiver ever since. Because of the nature of her visit here, we are quite worried about her condition and would like to see her. Now could you please direct me to my daughter's room?" Dad explained.

"Oh yes, I see what you mean Mr. Anderson, my apologies. She is in room 13, it seems she is in good condition, just a concussion. You can use those doors right there and then take a left." She instructs, pointing to a set of double doors.

We make it to (Y/N)'s room and walk in. She's on the bed with a bandage wrapped around her head and a few band-aids scattered around her arms. Sitting in a chair next to the bed is Nora, her face crestfallen as she holds her hand. When she notices us she stands up, coming over to us. I open my arms up, knowing she needs a shoulder to lean on right now.

She fell into my embrace, seemingly losing strength in her legs. I feel tears start to soak my shirt.

"God I'm so sorry, I- I was on t-the phone with her and, and t-then a crash and her car was so fucked I got her away from it but she wasn't breathing r-right and-" she stutters out, choking on her words. I shush her, rubbing circles in her back, trying to get her to calm down. 

"Nora it's ok, she's ok, it's only a concussion. You and I both know (Y/N) is a fighter. She'll be up and kicking ass in no time." I speak softly in her ear, looking up to see my dad reading the chart at the end of (Y/N)'s chart. His brow furrows at something he reads. 

I push Nora away a bit and wipe the tears from her eyes. "Come on, let go get you cleaned up and put some food in your belly, I know you haven't eaten since before your shift." I tell her, pulling her under my arm and leading her to the cafeteria. She was quiet the whole time, even after we sat down to eat. 

"I told her." She whispered softly, head down. She had barely touched her sandwich but I couldn't blame her. I didn't have much of an appetite either.

"What did you tell her?" I ask even though I had an inkling as to what she was referring to. I needed to keep her talking.

She sniffles, wiping at her eyes. "I told her I love her. Right before the car hit her. I heard the crash, I ran down the street and she was just sitting there, blood all over her, not moving. I thought she was dead. I was so scared." Nora's voice breaks at the end. Not knowing what else to do, I shift over and wrap my arms around her. Both these idiots were so madly in love with each other, I could only guess how much pain she was in. I love (Y/N) like she's my own flesh and blood, but what these two have going on? It's a whole nother level. I know for a fact (Y/N) would burn the world down for Nora. If only she could see that Nora feels the same. 

Out the corner of my eye, I see my dad approach is looking concerned. 

"Hey girls, (Y/N) is up if you want to go see her. I've already talked to her so you three can have some privacy." As soon as he said those words I stood up, grabbing Nora's arm and dragged her to (Y/N)'s room.

-10 minute earlier-

I open my eyes and immediately close them again at the bright lights. I groan and slowly open them again, taking in my soundings. I knew I was in a hospital room by the beeping of the heart monitor. I look to my left and see the only real father I've ever had. He looks up, noticing my movements and grabs my hand.

"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" He asks me, concern laced in his voice. 

"Like shit." I bluntly say, knowing he would want the truth before anything.

"I know baby girl, but I need to talk to you about something important before I call the doctor in." His eyes held a sadness I hadn't seen in a long time. I nod my head, having an idea where this was going. 

"While the doctors here were looking you over, they noticed you were suffering from damn near malnutrition. You had bursies and scars from before the crash. I know you tend to be quite independent, preferring to lick your wounds than ask for help. But honey, this isn't like you. Both you and Abby eat more than a pack of wolves. I want you to tell me what's going on. I know you've been upset recently, but I have never seen you like this." At that, everything I've been keeping in came out.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I'm so sorry. I've been playing somebody else and it's helping nobody. I see her in my head every fuckin day and now I'm sick." I broke down, I told him about everything. The nightmares, the flashbacks. About how I just couldn't feel anymore, how I can't eat without seeing my mother's face. We talked for a while until something hit me.

"Dad, if you're here I know Abby's here, but what about Nora? Is she here too?" I ask him hesitantly. He knew about my crush on Nora, the last thing I needed was for him to tease me. It seems I was in the favor of the Gods today because he simply said,

"Yeah she was the one who called me actually. She had been here before we got here. I'm going to go get them, I'm sure they want to see you." With that he left out the door.

A few minutes later Abby and Nora come through the door, moving to both sides of my bed. Abby looks at me, kisses my forehead, and dips out. I knew what she was doing, I definitely owed her one.

"Hey girly, sorry if I gave you a scare earlier. You know me, I'm a bit of an idiot. Heh" I chuckle, feeling nervous under her intense gaze. She didn't say anything for a bit, just looking at me. I was about to say something else when suddenly she leaned down and pressed her lips to mine.

You know that feeling when you're on a rollercoaster and your stomach drops? Yeah, that's how I felt then. All at once, my pain went away like shadows at noon. I reached up and cupped her cheek, kissing her back like I dreamed of for so many years. I don't know where this was coming from but my mother always told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nothing about that saying made any sense but I understood what she meant.

Nora pulls away, bumping her head aginst mine. I winced at the contact and all too soon she was stepping back.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry I forgot, I-" she spoke with panic in her voice, eyes wide. It was at this moment I took in her appearance.

Her hair was up in its usual ponytail, clothes messy and stained with blood. It was clear she was a mess but she had never looked so beautiful to me.

"Aww, thank you darling, that's so sweet of you." She said suddenly, which was strange considering I didn't say anyt- wait.

"I said that out loud didn't I?" I squeeked, feeling my face darken with embarrassment. 

"Yes, you did, but I appreciate the thought." I've never wanted to curl up and die more than now. Actually, that's not true but whatever. There was something that was bothering me and if I didn't say anything now, I'd never find the courage to do so again.

"Did you mean it when you said you love me?" I asked quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. She blinks and pauses, looking caught off guard before laughing to her self.

"You really are an idiot sometimes. Of course I meant it, I literally just kissed you. I've been in love with you since we were 12. Maybe longer." She muttered that last bit. 

"By the Gods, you mean to tell me I could have just SAID something to you and I wouldn't have to hide how I feel?! It makes so much sense now, you're always so touchy with me, you always want me to stay over your place. I thought you just liked my food! Oh I'm such an idiot." I rant, feeling irritated with myself. 

"You're my idiot. When you get out of here, how about we go out to that new arcade you've been talking about? I was actually going to ask you out today, but ya know, that whole thing happened. Are you down?" She asked me. I look at her in disbelief, then quickly shake my head. Of course she would be the one to make the first move.

"Yeah I'd like that a lot. But you know what I'd like even more?" I ask, looking at her with a hint of mischief in my eyes.

"Hmm, what?" Nora says. I could tell she knew what I was going to say by the way she leaned closer to me.

"This." I whisper, reaching up and grab the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me. As I pressed my lips to hers, for the first time in 10 years, I felt like everything was going to be ok

[reactionsfromapenofastay]

Stray Kids Reaction To Their S/O And Them Are Finding A Lost Pet On The Street - Maknae Line

Hyunjin: Some random character died on the screen, but honestly, you couldn't care any less. The only thing that mattered to you was the boy, who you were cuddled up with on the sofa.

Hyunjin had got back from tour only a few days ago, and you just simply couldn't get enough of him. Fair to be said, it was the same with the rapper as well. The little dance machine had missed you just as damn much as you'd missed him, and he also had a whole ass list of things he wanted to do with you, since they'd got two weeks off.

He'd told you that writing down places he wanted to take you to, or things he would've loved to experience with you had helped him a lot during the time he'd been away from the one he loved so dearly.

And when he'd named them you'd immediately said yes to everything. But only under one condition. "He has to spend the first few days sleeping, eating, chilling and relaxing."

- But Jagi. I want to create new memories with you! - he'd whined but soon enough you'd assured him that spending time at home, doing nothing could be just as memorable as going out.

You hadn't known what had been the thing that'd convinced him in the end. Maybe the unbearable exhaustion he'd felt, or that you'd told him that after a twelve hour sleep he'd could come over at your place, but he'd said yes.

And now here he was, holding you close to his chest, enjoying the way you were playing with his raven locks,  the dark circles under his eyes had almost completely faded.

And then the bell rang.

- It must be the pizza. - he sighed a little, not wanting to leave the comfort of your embrace, as he tried to sit up eventually.

- Don't! - was all you said as you gently, but firmly pushed him back on the sofa. - I'll go.

- But... - you lovingly rolled your eyes while standing up. He was always a gentleman. Especially when it came to treating you. (Except the days he decided to be a goofball of course.)

- Hyunjinnie. We've been in a relationship for two years now. I don't mind getting the food. - a sweet smile lighted up on his angelic face, and he nodded, leaving it up to you. - Beside the fact that this relationship between us should be equal. So you could really be the one this time, who...you know...stays. - you winked, making your tone of voice heavier on the last word. His laugh filled the room as you walked away.

Now that the word of lunch had got mentioned, the boyfriend of yours started to feel how hungry he really was. He hadn't even noticed until this time, but damn was he starving. He'd forgotten to eat in the morning due to how in a hurry he had been to your house, which - of course - he hadn't told you. But now he was eager to stuff his mouth with food.

So disappointment was a totally understandable reaction from him when you returned with a relatively small box in your hands, and a very confused expression on your face.

- It doesn't look like pizza. - he said pouting, looking out of the way of a pillow. But when he registered the upset expression on your face, he sat up on an instant. - Y/N...? Is everything alright? - he asked. And the worry in his voice and eyes couldn't have been more obvious.

- Well...it doesn't look like a pizza, because it's not one. - you sighed, taking a few steps forward. - And no. Nothing's alright. - your voice trembled. - Because... - and instead of finishing your sentence, you lifted the top of the box up. And before your boyfriend could ask anything, a small, fluffy head had peeked out of the carton, with two, brown and white ears, both of them down.

- It's a... - Hyunjin visibly choked on his own spit.

- A bunny. - you nodded, angry tears welling up in the corner of your eyes, and you closed the space between you and the boy, sitting down next to him. - I found this box on the door mat. Someone left him there. - you sniffled, trying to fight against the salty drops that were threatening to fall.

- Him? - the rapper couldn't help, but chuckle. You were beyond adorable with that ball of cuteness in your lap.

- It looks like a 'him' to me. - you shrugged a little. - Doesn't it to you? - you asked, finally lifting the furry creature out of the box completely. You held the bunny under his legs on the front, the ones on the back were hanging in the air, brown palms facing with the boy. The pet's tiny nose was moving up and down frantically, and he stared innocently at the sight in front of him with his black, shiny eyes.

- Nooo. - Hyunjin cooed as he took the bunny from you carefully. - I think it's a girl. She's definitely just as pretty as you. - You blushed from neck to ear, as you watched your boyfriend starting to play with the new family member in his lap.

- What kind of living creature has the heart to throw away a cuteness like him? Or her? - you shook your head in disbelief and in anger.  

- I don't even want to know. - he said, turning his attention back to his new buddy. - She's soo tiny, Jagi! And soo fluffy! I'm scared that I'll break her.

- I don't think you will. You're always so mindful. - you smiled, looking back in the box. And your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

- Who is so butiful? Who? - the rapper poked the rabbit's head. - Yes. You are. You are a...

- Hyunjin! - your voice was sharper than you'd wanted it to be, but you couldn't help it. You were gob-smacked.   The boy looked at you with a questioning look. - I found a letter. - you said with concern in your eyes, lifting up the piece of folded paper.

- What does it say? - Hyunjin frowned and you opened the paper properly.

- "To Hyunjin and Y/N,

my favourite couple on this Earth." ?!?! - you almost screamed the last part. You couldn't see it but you knew that the boy's eyes widened as well. The relationship of you two hadn't been official yet. So what the hell was happening?

- "Dear Y/N!" - you continued. - "Stays are really thankful for you, making our Hyunjin happy! Please take care of each other well!

Love,

From a fan" - before you read the last word out loud, your boyfriend had already placed the bunny in your lap, and opened his laptop. You pet the little animal out of pure instinct, but you didn't focus on anything else but on Hyunjin's tensed up form. Silence and the sound of the dancer's wild typing filled the room, but the words of the letter still rang in your ears. "...my favourite couple on this Earth". Did this mean they knew? Probably. Which meant that you're fucked.

- Fuck. - your eyes snapped back to the boy next to you. You didn't have to look on the screen. Hyunjin's pale face, and his lips that were pressed against each other were more than enough for you to know that it was not just a sick joke from one of the members, or something.

- What picture? - you sighed, voice uneven, eyes glistening with tears again. Your deal with JYP was that you keep your relationship hidden from the public. And even though you and Hyunjin had talked about convincing the head of the company to decide otherwise it had not been supposed to turn out like this.

- It was taken at the airport. - he answered, biting on his plump lower lip, making it redder than usual.

- But we can be just...

- We're kissing, Jagi. - you closed your eyes in horror. This couldn't be happening.

- I mean... - you tried to think about some solution desperately. - Friends kiss sometimes...

- I'm literally grabbing your ass. - the boy laughed but you couldn't found the joy in the sound this time. You shook your head again, trying to clear your thoughts.

- Okay...go to your phone! I take a look at this. - you switched places with him, with the bunny on your knees and you looked at the computer.

There it was, the picture filled the screen. The photo was blurry a little bit, but it was still pretty obvious who were in it.

"Well...at least we're looking cute." The bittersweet thought ran through your mind as you kept looking up on twitter, facebook, and instagram. You didn't get calmed down by what you found there.

- Oh my God...The internet has blown up. - you said shocked, and the same laugh filled your ears from before. - No, I mean we're everywhere. Like...everywhere.

- So that's why Park Nim's called me...seventy-one times. - your boyfriend muttered.

- WHAT?

- And why Chan's texted me on every single existing platform.

- What is he saying? - you asked, massaging your temples painfully. You didn't know whether you should laugh or cry.

- That he's by my side through it all. - the dancer answered softly.

- You got the best fucking leader you could've ever wished for. - you grinned, truly happily this time. Chris was like a glue. He kept everyone and everything together. And you really hoped that he had someone in his life who did the same with him. Because he fucking deserved it.

- However, Minho's just recommended that we should change identity and run. - you laughed with him, and it seemed like his mood got lifted up a little bit. - Maybe this situation is not even that bad. - he pulled the optimist out of himself and you raised an eyebrow. - Worse happen all the time. We can get through this, Y/N. I promise.

- I know. - you smiled reaching for his hand and get it in your own. The pet in your lap squirmed.

- Look. We even got a bunny from them. - he said all cheered up, and you shook your head, still smiling.

- And they know where I live.

- That's it. - he shouted after his face'd gone pale for a minute. - We're moving together!

(If I suffer you guys are suffering with me!!)

Jisung:

- THERE'S A RAT IN OUR HOUSE! THERE'S A RAT IN OUR HOUSEEEEEEEEE! - in any other situation, the fact that your boyfriend referred to your apartment as the home of yours and his as well, would've filled your heart with warmth and joy. But in this case, his tone of voice which he'd shouted the statement with, was so loud and panicked that you almost fell down from your chair due to a heart attack.

- Y/N!!!!!!!! - he yelled again, his voice filled with fear, and your brain hadn't even got a chance to process the meaning of his words before you ran.

- WHAT'S WRONG? - you bursted into your bedroom, ready to fight against all evil in this Earth that'd been brave enough to attack your boyfriend.

One of your hands grabbed the doorframe, the other still on the doorknob, your whole body was tensed, and even though the distance between your bedroom and the kitchen wasn't too big, you were still gasping for air.

On the other hand, Jisung was standing on your bed, his back against the wall, trying to get as far from whatever had scared him as possible. His face was pale, he was slightly sweating, and his eyes were glued to the carpet.

- It's a ra...r...ra... - he pointed forward, not being able to finish the sentence. You frowned, remembering the scream that had scared your soul out of your body for a brief moment. And you got really confused at this point, because his words couldn't be true. Not that he'd lied or something. It was just simply impossible.

- Are you sure that it wasn't only a bug or something? - you asked carefully, stepping into the room. You didn't really know how could someone mistake an insect for a rodent, but your boyfriend got easily scared by shadows too, so you wouldn't have been that surprised if that had been the case.

- NO, IT'S A RAT JAGI, I SWEAR! - he shouted again almost hysterically, and you sighed, as you stepped in front of him, looking up at his trembling form.

- Jisung...we live in the middle of Seoul. - you made your pretty logical point. - It couldn't be a...

- IT'S THERE!!! - the rapper screamed and you looked down at your feet which a dark...well...something ran through in a split of seconds.

- What the FUCK?! - it was you who yelled now, and you put pumas in shame when you jumped up on your bed as well. Your thoughts were chasing each other in your brain as you tried to made sense of the scene that you'd just seen.

- SEE?! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THAT IT WAS A...

- Hush! - you snapped a little, making your boyfriend's shouting came to a halt. You were not mad at him, or anything, but your head started to seriously hurt from the loud noises he kept making, not to talk about the fact that it seemed like there was a pest in your house. - I have an idea. - you whispered as you slowly walked to the other side of the bed, trying to find the thing you were looking for.

Jisung watched as you grabbed a blanket in one of your hands, not completely understanding what you were doing, but it soon enough made sense in his mind, when you took a few pieces of grape from your bedside-table as well.

- Oh... - was all he said.

- I'm going to need your help, okay? - you whispered to him in a serious tone. You weren't sure if rats could understand humans or not, but you didn't want to risk it. - When I drop the blanket on whatever animal this is, we both jump, and press this - you waved your hand that held the material - to the ground.

The boy gulped, but nodded, trying to trust in your plan.

- 3, 2, 1... - you threw the fruits on the carpet, and you both leaned forward, not wanting to miss anything.

You didn't have to wait for long. The dark, furry figure rushed out of a corner, and started to nibble on a grape peacefully, and before your eyes could've registered what it was seeing, you'd already dropped the blanket on the poor thing, and jumped after it, your boyfriend following you.

It all happened in a matter of seconds.

The little animal's sharp cries rang through the room as it started running back and forth under the material which you kneeled onto, while Jisung was on his fourth, trying to hold down the fabric.

And when it got particularly close to you, you jumped forward and grabbed the little body firmly, but trying not to hurt it at the same time.

The furball's cries got even louder if it was possible - you were sure that you got a migraine at this point - and it was squirming frantically under your touch. But even though your heart was beating as fast as it could, you didn't let go. You waited patiently, and it was not for nothing. A few minutes later silence filled the room, and the little pet stopped all of its movements. Only its chest was rising and falling continuously.

- I got it. I...I got it. - you sighed in relief, and the same feeling rushed through your boyfriend when he heard your words.

- Good job, Jagi! - he grinned, still panting, and you gave him a wide smile, as you sat back on your heels.

- Let's take a look at you, 'kay? - you said as you lifted up the animal with the blanket, and you turned it around in your grasp, so now it was facing you, looking like a little, pink dementor, thanks to the blanket that was covering its whole body. You leaned down so you could peek under the fabric, and what you saw under it, made you laugh so hard, that you almost dropped the little thing.

Han looked at you with very confused eyes, but it'd taken minutes before he got an answer since you couldn't stop laughing.

- Jisungie. - he raised an eyebrow, and you chuckled again. - We're so stupid! It's not a rat. - and you turned the fluff in your hands around again, trying to pull back the material on its head, so your boyfriend could see it as well. - It's a guinea pig! - you said cheerfully, as you showed up the dappled, trembling little creature.

And as the pet fear-filled eyes met Han's disbelieving gaze, he started laughing as well.

- Don't tell me we freaked out over a guinea pig! - he laughed, holding his stomach which was probably in pain by now. - Where did it even come from? - he asked hardly believing to the sight in front of him.

- I have no idea. But I guess we'll keep it...? - you smiled at your boyfriend shyly, half saying, half asking your statement. And the boy got overly excited in the minute the words left your mouth.

- It's gonna be our first shared pet!

- I think we could name it Rat. - and you bursted into laughter again.

 Felix: 

It was mid-summer. And you didn't have an air-conditioner. 

Conclusion: It was freaking hot. Like...not just medium hot. The air was literally BOILING in your apartment, making it almost impossible to stay inside. You almost felt as if your skin was peeling off of you. The cold showers only helped for a little bit of  time, you were sweating, and you were sure that you didn't own the best smell in South-Korea. 

And your situation didn't get solved by deodorants. After you'd sprayed almost a whole bottle of them on yourself, you started to smell like flower. Like...a rottening flower. It was terrible. All you wanted to do was eating ice-cream in a pool, filled with cold water, probably naked. 

But you were way too broke for spending your money on ice-cream, since yesterday your uterus had been bleeding like crazy so couldn’t get in any pool, and you couldn't even get naked because the sweetest boyfriend of boyfriends, Felix, was at your place now, wearing only a boxer. Oh how you hated men sometimes.  After all this, no one had been able to blame you for opening the windows. You needed some fresh air. Even if it was hot.

- I'll get something to drink for us, okay? - the boy who had been scrolling through your album which you collected your concert tickets and photos in, now jumped up, ready to go with you.

- I'll help. - he yelled, jokingly, holding up his hand as if he was applying for something. You shook your head in awe as you stepped closer to the freckled boy. 

- That's very sweet of you, Lixie, and I appreciate it, but it's only two glasses of water. I can handle it. - you smiled sweetly, trying to hold back a grin when you noticed how the nickname had affected him. You could literally see his heart flutter through his eyes. - I'll be right back. - and you leaned closer, pressing a quick peck on his pouting lips, leaving him all red and hot. 

You ran off to the kitchen, still smiling and as you opened the fridge you couldn't help but to think about the fact how this boy could light up your extremely crappy mood, by only existing. He was like he ate the sunshine. He went somewhere and that placed instantly brightened up, and got alive. He was special. He could paint everything in color, by just looking at it with those warm, deep brown eyes of his. Even the darkest places and situations were filled with laughter, joy and fun with this boy. And you couldn't feel luckier for being able to call him yours.

This was the exact thought that settled in your mind when you poured some water in a glass. And this was the exact thought that couldn't be continued, because of a surprisingly high pitched scream that came from a boy with a surprisingly low voice.

- OH MY GOSH! JAGI! - you flinched so hard, you almost hit your elbow in the corner of the desk. And even though somehow you'd managed to prevent this, you still dropped the glass, that broke into thousands of pieces when it met the floor. - HEEEELP!!!! HEEEEEELP!!! - loud rambles, and weird thumps came from the living room harmonizing with the yells, and you didn't even think, you just ran. And you almost made contact with the ground as well, when arriving in the doorframe of the room you had to back off due to a rainbowish, flying creature that was way too big to be a bug.

- WHAT THE FREAKIN'... - you yelled too, literally breaking your neck, as you turned your head towards the animal, which flew over your shoulder, aiming one of your rooms.

- JAGI! 

- FELIX, WHAT THE HELL?! - you turned your head back, meeting the boy's widened eyes, who was now standing only a few inches from you. He seemed just as frightened as you were. - What on Earth is that? - you tried lowering your voice, not wanting to make your significant other deaf.

- A parrot. - he answered, biting on his lower lip.

- A WHAT?! - nope. You were yelling again. There was a tropical bird in your house after all.

 - I'm...I...I'm sorry... - your boyfriend struggled with the words. You furrowed your eyebrows together. What was he sorry for? - It just flew through the window...I...I couldn't prevent that...It was a parrot...and soo big...but mostly a parrot...I've got so surprised I...

- Felix! - you said a bit harshly, making the boy's rambling stop. - Hey, it's okay. I don't blame you. - your tone softened and you chuckled. - No one would have been able to do anything. It's a mother effin parrot after all. - you saw your boyfriend's body relax a little. God, he could be so harsh on himself sometimes. 

- What should we do now? - Felix asked when you both heard some flapping from the bathroom. And then glass breaking. - Was it your aunt's vase?

- It was ugly anyway. - you shrugged it off. - But I don't want this bird to poop on my furniture. - you added much more annoyed. - I think I have a butterfly-net somewhere. - the rapper raised an eyebrow but only nodded.

- I'll grab the broom. 

The only thing your neighbor from the front house wanted was to sprinkle her plants on the balcony. She didn't expect to hear sounds that were most familiar with explosions. She didn't expect sentences like "COME HERE, YOU FEATHER DUSTER!", "DON'T YOU DARE TO SHIT ON Y/N'S SOFA!" and "I'LL MAKE A WAR BONNET OUT OF YOU IF YOU BREAK SOMETHING ELSE!" catch her attention. And she definitely didn't expect to witness a basically naked boy jumping across a table with a broom in his hand, nor a girl making weird dance moves using a butterfly-net, nor a parrot flying on an aquarium. 

But here she was. Fair to be said, you didn't expect your day to come to this either, when you planned this date. 

- I GOT IT! OH MY GOD, I GOT I...- your voice cracked. - Jeez, I really need some water. - you murmured to yourself, silently praying that the still crazily flapping bird was not going to escape from the net.  Luckily your hero happened to be in near, so as soon as he'd heard your shout he'd got there. And he ran into the room. And he dropped his weapon. And he jumped. To be honest he'd never reminded you more of a cat. 

- Okay. Okay. It's okay, buddy. Calm down. - he panted, holding the parrot firmly, pressing it against his bare chest. The bird was squirming frantically in his grasp, scratching and pinching the skin, but Felix didn't let go. And in a few minutes the animal calmed down, and so you both did. 

- Oh Lord... - you sighed, as you peeled the net off of the pet. Your apartment looked like a war scene, you were sweating, and still gasping for air, not to talk about your boyfriend, who even gave his blood to this mission. Literally. - Go to the kitchen. - you spoke eventually. - We need to take care of your wounds. - you pointed to the scars that were not too deep, but long, and probably painful. - I have to disinfect them.

- What about our little friend? - he questioned, looking down at the - now - frozen bird.

- Just hold it there, please. - you massaged your forehead, trying to find out some kind of solution. - After we cleared you up, we’ll take it to the vet. And then buy it a cage, or something. - Felix nodded in agreement, but the pet clearly had other things in mind because it turned its head towards you, and then said:

- Don't want vet. This chest good. - both of your eyes widened, but you were the one who started to laugh.

- I was not the one who said that. - you held your hands in the air, making your way into the kitchen, laughing uncontrollably .  

Seungmin:

 - STOP! For the love of God, STOP IT ALREADY! - both the man who you were yelling at, and your boyfriend whose hold you'd just ripped your hand out of looked at you pretty much frightened as you started to run, gesticulating heavily. Did you care? No. Not really. You were too busy trying to stop the person in front of you from what he was about to do.

- Miss, you can't... - the man tried. He really did. It was mid-autumn, chilly, windy weather, with trees, some of them standing tall in their orange, red and brown gowns, some of them naked already. Dry, golden leaves were everywhere, but mostly positioned in little heaps in the park.

In the park you'd been walking with your significant other only minutes ago, when you'd noticed the employee stepping towards a really familiar pile of leaves, with a huge vacuum in his hand.

That was the moment you'd got into action.

- THAT'S SOMEONE'S HOME! - your shouting was unnecessary since you'd already reached the man who now flinched back at the volume of your voice. But you wanted to make yourself clear. Gosh, you really couldn't get human beings sometimes. How could they destroy, and step on every piece of nature, so carelessly, without a second thought?

You couldn't see the confused look the man exchanged with the singer as you fell on your knees in front of the - actually pretty big - heap, carefully diving in it with your hands. But you heard the vacuum stopping its buzzing noise and you relaxed a little.

You didn't bother to clarify your actions any further, you just kept fumbling between the leaves, trying to find what you were looking for. And soon enough you heard a thump close to you.

You lifted your head out of instinct, only to see Seungmin on the other side of the pile, both hands buried in it, smiling up at you from his croutching position. You guys probably looked crazy to the people around you, scuba-diving in fallen leaves like a mad-man but neither of you cared.

You specifically just wanted to jump on him, engulfing him in a bone crashing hug, but you only grinned back at him, putting the embrace on the 'To Do List' of your mind. However your gaze was still filled with gratitude towards him.

There were not many people in your life who cared not only about you, but about the things that were important to you as well. And there were doubtlessly no other person who could understand you as well, and as fast as he did. You couldn't even put it into words how thankful you were to have him in your life.

A  sharp pain was the thing that pulled your thoughts back to the present. You yelped, more surprised than hurt, but in the next second you reached forward again, and ignoring the stinging in your palms you grabbed the animal you'd finally found.

You leaned back, sitting on your heels, and lifting out the squirming creature from its home, slowly and gently.

The hedgehog made a weird noise as if it was complaining for waking it up from its sleep, and you smiled a little, even though with gritted teeth as you started to be more and more aware of the pain in your hands that the animal's spines caused you.

- Here, Jagi. - your boyfriend's voice was soft and caring, as he offered you his sweater to put your new little friend in. You gave him a questioning look, knowing very well how much he liked that clothe but he just furrowed his brows, pouting a little. - You’re bleeding, Darling. My sweater should be the last of your problems. - he was right. Fresh, light red blood started to make its way through your fingers in thin streams, and even though you still felt guilty a little, for probably ruining the hoodie, you still put the hedgehog in it, Seungmin wrapping it up like it was a baby.

- We're taking it to the vet. - the boy spoke up. - I'm sure they can sterilize your wounds too. - you looked at your hands. None of your injures seemed to be deep, nor serious, but you had to admit the fact that it was a wild animal that'd injured you and small cuts could get infected easily. So you agreed with a nod, starting to walk away from the messed up pile.

- Next time, make sure you at least kick in it. - you said, as you both crossed the man who'd intended to get rid of the leaves. - Sometimes whole families live in there. - no one could doubt that, that day you taught important lessons.

 Jeongin:

 - Oh in the name of the Lord...! - you hissed, basically tumbling out of the shower, eyes closed, one hand covering them, your body soaking wet all over, the shower still running behind you, since you'd been too lazy to turn it off.

You're phone hadn't stopped ringing for the past few minutes, and even though you'd greatly hoped that however had harassed you during your relaxation time  would've stopped calling you, they hadn't and the sharp noise had started to really get on your nerves.

So now you were looking for the mobile, trying to find it with your hands, still blindly and naked.

- It better be important. - you'd groaned in the minute you felt the buzzing machine against your hand  before you picked up the phone.

- What? - you asked annoyed, not even caring about who was on the other end  of the line. But when the person answered back, you froze, fear running its hands up on your nerves.

- Noona! - Jeongin's voice was somewhat shaky and uncertain as if he was not completely sure if it was a good idea to call you or not. However in the minute you heard that word leaving his mouth you opened your eyes wide, and instantly regretted it, since your shampoo that was still in your hair had gotten into it.

- Auch... - you moaned in pain, absolutely sure that you'd just got blind for real this time, as you tried to find a towel with your other hand. I.N only called you Noona when something really bad or serious happened.

- Noona, are you okay? - now he was worried too. You wanted to slap yourself for scaring him but you decided that the pain in your eyes was more than enough punishment.

- Yeah, I'm fine, just... - you mumbled, tapping the shampoo out of your eyes with the corner of your gown, not finding the towel earlier. - What's wrong? - you asked and silence filled the room for a brief moment.

- I really need your help. - his voice was panicked and you really started to get afraid of what he was about to say.

- Okay, I'm listening. - you assured him, and he sighed.

- So someone broke into the building...

- WHAT?! - you yelled out of instinct and absolutely terrified. Did you hear it well? Someone broke into the Entertainment? - WHAT DO YOU MEAN SOMEONE BROKE INTO THE...oh God...Is everyone okay? Are you hurt? Is anyone hurt? Is...

- Y/N. - he said in a soft but firm tone, and you immediately stopped in your rambling. However your heart still wanted to jump out of your ribcage. - Just...let me finish, okay? - he asked obviously tired and you felt a little ashamed of yourself. You really should've let him to tell you everything. But you couldn't stop the fear from spreading out in your body. How could you?

You hummed in response and your boyfriend continued.

- So someone broke into the building, and left a hamster in JYP's room...

-  A WHA... - but you hadn't even finished the question before putting a hand over your mouth. - Sorry...

- So someone left there a box, with a hamster in it. And it got out. And it destroyed everything, Y/N. Like...everything. - the maknae's voice trembled again in the middle of his speech. - He tried to eat the furniture, pooped on the keyboard - you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle here, as you imagined the small pieces of hamster poop being on the boss' laptop - He chewed the papers - the most important ones obviously... - oh how you loved that sarcasm coming through. - Everything is a mess.

- Well I can imagine that. - you grimmased, the pictures of a destroyed office appearing in your mind.

- And I don't dare to imagine what would happen with this little guy, if JYP found him here when he arrives... - you couldn't see him but you knew he bit down on his bottom lip before finishing the sentence. Damn was he stressed out.

- And he finds out what happened with his many milliard quality room? - you asked and he finally laughed a little which made you smile too.

- Well...yeah...

- Where's the hamster? - you asked, wanting to know every detail but you didn't expect the answer you got.

- It's in the box now. Which is also in my hand. - Jeongin muttered embarrassed. - And I'm kind of hiding behind a vending machine with Hyunjin-hyung.

- Hi, Y/N.- you then heard the rapper whispering. Even though his voice was quite you could easily recognise the nervousness in his tone.

- Hi, Jinnie. - you answered, trying to sound as calm and as collected as possible, in hopes of simmering them down somewhat. - I'm coming over, okay? - you asked, adressing your words to the maknae this time.

- Would you?

- Of course I would, baby! - you didn't even know why he was so surprised. He should've known very well by now that you could do everything for him. - I'll be there as fast as possible. Just keep hiding behind that vending machine! - you gave the instructions, and after the youngest had asked you to hurry, you hung up the phone.

Instead of getting back in the shower, you just leaned under the running water to wash the left over shampoo out of your hair, but you didn't dry it after you'd finished and closed the tap.

You  just quickly pulled on some clothes - a shirt, and a pair of jeans - not bothering to find your underwear, or messing with your bra. It would have been too much of a time.

You just grabbed your key and your phone, an you stormed out of the house.

Luckily your apartment was only minutes away from the JYP building, so you got there within a few seconds by running.

You received a whole lot of weird look, as you made it through the security system - the system which had failed to prevent a hamster from getting in and destroying the boss' room -, an entered the hall. You ran up the stairs, checking behind every vending machine, until you managed to find your boyfriend, and one of your best friends, standing behind one of them, on their tip-toes, clinging to each other in the tiny, dark, and probably dusty place, one of them holding a carton box.

- Hi. - you whispered, and Jeongin's head snapped in the direction of yours, just to be welcomed with a kiss on his lips. His whole face flushed, and under any other circumstances you would have already made a joke out of his shyness. - I got this. - you assured him, as you took the box out of his hands, and stepped back. - Now come out of there, because you guys are hiding from PDnim waaaay too obviously. - the two boys crawled out behind of the machine, on uneven feet, one after the other. Their faces were pale, and they looked a little bit shaken up, but otherwise they seemed to be fine.

- Awh man. - Hyunjin whined, both of his eyes became a straight line, as he tried to protect them from the sharp light of the lamps above you.  - I thought we would never come out of there. - he went on, combing out his locks with his fingers. - Dust got into my hair.

- And you're smelly! - Jeongin talked back intensly, but you couldn't listen, since an approaching figure stole your eyes.

- It's not my fault that we got interrupted in the middle of dance class!

- Well if only you weren't be a drama que... - they couldn't carry on with the fight, due to you, interrupting them.

- Just smile, and wave boys. Act normal. We're normal. - you whispered through gritted teeth, and that was when they finally looked up, their gaze meeting JYP's.

- Hi there. - the head of the company smiled, and you were quick to greet him with a bow, and a 'Hello'. - What ya doing here?

- I just came to meet up with the guys for a few minutes. - you answered politely while you kept trying to convince your brain that this lie was totally believable. Why wouldn't have you done that, right? You loved spending time with the boys. - What about you, sir?

- Just heading off to my office. I've got some work to finish. - you desperately wanted to finish this unplaesent conversation, and escape the little animal, and also yourself from the stares of the man. - Anyway. What ya got there?

- Just some home made food I brought to the boys. - you answered quickly - too quickly - looking down at the box, then back the person in front of you whose eyes started to form a thin line, brows getting in the middle of his forehead. - But they've finished it already.

- And why is your hair wet?

- And why aren't you wearing a bra? - Hyunjin whispered under his breath, from behind some strands of hair of yours, and you shut your eyes tight for a moment, not sure whether your dripping locks, or your - thanks to the air-conditioning, now stiffened - nipples you should be more embarrassed about. You could bet your ass off that Jeongin had turned into a tomato by now.

- Ehhehhehe... - you faked laughed on a lot more high-pitched tone than usual. - I got some sauce in it by accident, and when I tried to wash it out, I somehow got all of my hair wet. - you muttered, praying to whatever power controlled this world to help you out of your situation. You were terrible at lying. - It would be the best for me if I went home now, and dried it. - you added, and fortunately Park Jinyoung didn't disagree.

- That's right, that's right. You really should do that. - the man said, but it looked like he'd already got lost in his thoughts. - However, I must go now. It's been great to talk to you. - and he started to walk to the stairs. - Keep up the good work, boys! - he waved back.

- Yes, PD-nim! - All of you bowed and said by to him, your hearts beating like crazy. And as soon as the man disappeared from your eye-sights the two boys turned to you whisper-shouting a 'run' command.

They didn't have to tell you twice. You sprinted down to the hall, and out of the building, an it was only in the middle of the street a few meters away from the company that you stopped, sweating, but laughing out, relieved.

- I made it. We made it! - you laughed, peeking inside the box, just to see a tiny little, brown furred hamster looking back at you. You smiled at the pet, and then started to walk away, closing the box, when a threatening, thunder-like roar made you and the other people on the street stop all of their movements.

- WHO PUT SHIT ON MY KEYBOARD?!

 Hi there!

I’m here with the second part and I’d really like to know which one was your favourite and why! And I always LOVE to recieve opinions and requests so feel free to do it! I really hope that I could make you smile, or even laugh a little. :) Have an amazing day, filled with giggles and joy! :D Stray Kids Makes Us STAY

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer Chapter 6: The Walking Dead

Deep down we all know our lives can change in an instant. We all hope it will change for the better. We hope that we’ll find that dream job. That girl we’ve been searching for will show up, smile at us, and agree that she’s was searching for us too. That some prince will come and whisk us away from our problems.

We also know that things can change for the worse. In that same instant, our lives can be taken, as if by some strange magic, and everything we’ve been working for crumbles to dust. All we can do is pick up the pieces, start over again, and be grateful we survived.

When I woke up at the hospital, I couldn’t talk about what happened. Nono, at my bedside, tried to get me to say something about it, but my mind could not form the words to describe the chaos I remembered. If I focused on the memories too much, they overwhelmed me the way the strongest emotions do. They were pure sensation, coming over me faster than my intellect's ability to register them. 

There were details, focal points that my mind latched on to after the world went blurry.

The shocked look of a young man’s face when he realized he was going to die the instant before he did. The pulsating waves that were visible when blood oozed from a severed artery. The life and death struggle of a living person between my hands. Despite the clarity of these memories - or maybe because of it - their horrific nature stunned me into speechlessness.

When Nono was unable to get me to answer her questions, she said, “I think we need to get you some help.” She stood up and left me alone in the room.

I laid on my side picking at the thin threads of the soft pillow case. When the door creaked open and footsteps approached, I didn’t turn to look.

“I am Doctor Toyama.” A gentle male voice greeted me.

When he didn’t say anything more, I turned my head to see if he was still there. He had light brown eyes in a young face and a thin well manicured goatee that traced around his upper lip and chin. He wore a lab coat with a tag hanging from his pocket as an identifier. He held a notebook and pen.

That much acknowledgement of his existence was enough to make him smile. “I have a few questions for you. You don’t have to say much about this incident. The College is well aware of many details about Isaac and his… activities here. It’s unfortunate that it had to end up this way.”

He pulled up a chair and sat next to my bed. I averted my eyes from him as he continued to speak. “You’re probably blaming yourself for what happened. I’m here to tell you that it wasn’t your fault.”

He didn’t wait for me to respond. “People here all have a certain percentage of dragon DNA. The higher the percentage the stronger they are. But there is a cost.” He kept his tone soft and clear.

“If someone’s percentage of dragon DNA is too high, it begins to overwrite the human. It grows, much like a cancer and they cease to be recognizable as a human. They turn into what we call a death servitor. That is what happened to Isaac.”

“It happened to Isaac because of what I did though,” I whispered. My throat squeezed shut. My lip trembled. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn’t return his gaze.

“Oh? How so?”

I chewed my lip and pressed my face into the pillow.

“I’d really like to know. There are surveillance cameras in the library. As far as we can tell after watching the footage, you walked into a conference room together. The rest is hard to make out but it’s clear you disappear. You went…” He let the sentence hang.

“I wanted to see my family.” I said shakily. Tears wet the pillowcase around my eyes.

“Why? You were only here a day. You miss them already?”

I nodded.

“Hmm…” I hear his pen click. “Did you inform one of your class advisors?.”

“Yeah. He told me that… I couldn’t see my family because the rules said I had to stay on campus… I couldn’t even call them.”

“Ah… I see. You’re very close to them then?”

“Mhm…”

“You must be  if you were willing to follow a stranger into the dark on the off chance you might get to see them. Tell me, what do you plan to say to them?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Everything here is secret… right?” I peeked up from the pillow.

“That’s right.” He's writing in his notebook.

“Well, I’d … tell him that there’s a lot of boys here. And they make me nervous.”

He stroked his goatee. “Ah… I see. What else?”

“Everything is really extravagant… and I don’t think I’ll fit in. And that I failed my first exam.” Now that I’m looking at him, he offered me a tissue box. I sat up to accept it.

“Very good.” He made a few more notes  “I’ll submit this to the board members and see if they can make a bit of an exception for some forms of communication. It’s… rare we get people like you. Who actually come from loving non-hybrid homes.”

He clicked his pen and put it back into his breast pocket. “But since you still have so much to say to them, that means you didn’t go back to your home, did you? Where did you go?”

“I don’t know where it was. There were others too. They were dressed in Japanese clothes. So maybe Japan?” I blew my nose.

“Japan? Hm…” He made a note. “That’s … odd. Why do you think he would take you there?”

“Maybe that’s where his family lives?” I looked to him for confirmation of my guess.

“His family? I thought you were going to meet yours?” He raised his eyebrows.

I explained.  “He said I shouldn’t have failed my test. He said he wanted to test me… before I went home.”

“There was no way you could have known what that meant.” He told me. “You must have … fought hard to escape.” He looked at me expecting me to fill in the blank, but I fell into an abrupt silence. My eyes were downcast. My fingers kneaded at the pillow case.

“Alright…” He said quietly. “What’s one thing you can tell me. Just one.”

My continued silence stretched on.

“Just one thing? I promise, I won’t ask any more questions.”

I didn’t reply but Doctor Toyama continued to sit and wait. My mind remembered, indexed and sorted what happened into a large pile of secrets. There was one memory that I felt comfortable revealing.

“He saved my life. I would’ve died. But when he held me, my wound healed. He brought me back before he turned into that monster.”

He watched me wipe away tears, keeping his expression neutral. “I see. Thank you.” He made another note. “I’ll leave you now. Feel free to contact me any time.” He left his card on the table next to my phone.

After he was gone, I examined the card. His title was Campus Psychologist. My phone lit up, attracting my attention. It displayed an overwhelming number of notifications. I ignored them in favor of visiting my social media page.

At the top of the feed, the official administrators had pinned a message.

This page is now restricted, only those with access may view it. If you have questions about the restriction or feel you’ve been blocked in error, keep it to yourself because you haven’t been.

Below that stretched a long string of posts by other Cassell students.

“How does one kill a servitor in a single hit?”

“Well, this new student is promising. Anyone get her number?”

“Wish she’d left some of that fight to me.”

“How can I date her please.”

“DMs are blocked :(“

“Anyone have her phone number? What about email?”

“How do you even get that strong?!”

“10/10 would watch again.”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to talk to or meet any of these people.

In my notifications, I found a text from Nono. “Hey, hope you’re feeling better. You’ll be getting a message from the Principal soon. Don’t be nervous, just do your best. If you need me, just call me alright? Please, if you want to talk, don’t hesitate to call me. I know you miss your family, but you can’t go back to them right now. Not without talking to him.”

The phone sang its jaunty ringtone. The caller ID was just ‘EVA’. “Hello?”

Her voice was cheerful but her words were to the point. “You passed your E3 exam with a high level of resonance with a draconic cipher. This along with your unique dragon ancestry puts you at Rank S.”

“What do you mean I passed? I didn’t write anything?”

“Most record their ciphers. In your case, this was not the correct medium. Determining your ability will take further research. Therefore, we are admitting you. Welcome to Cassell College. I’m EVA, the school AI butler. Let me know if you need help or have questions."

“AI…? A computer…?” I stammered but couldn’t form a complete sentence so she continued.

“Your meeting with Principal Anjou is in half an hour. I’ve sent Mingfei Lu to guide you there. Your uniform is there in your room. Please dress and get ready to meet him. Don’t worry. He’s very nice.”

“Wait! Who is…?”

The phone beeped to tell me there was no longer anyone on the other end. I returned it to the nightstand and slid my legs over the edge of the bed to get up. I found my purple and black uniform on a hanger in the open closet across the hospital room.

When I put the uniform on, I examined myself in the room’s bathroom mirror.  The open collar displayed my pendant over my collarbones. I turned my back to see if there was any sign of where that man had knifed me. There wasn’t.  My heart began to pound as I remembered the spear of light impaling my attacker, how his jaw dropped open in shock. I started to wonder how much of that really happened, hoping some of it was a dream.

A knock on the hospital room door frightened me so badly I stumbled backwards into the wall. Trembling, I peeked outside the bathroom to see a gangly young man with brown doe-like eyes and a mop of messy brown hair.  He gives me a cheerful wave. “You must be the newbie!”

He slowly lowered his hand when I didn’t echo his enthusiasm.  “Don’t be shy! I don’t bite! I promise!” He gave a little nervous laugh. “I’m not good at this…” He mumbled.

“Good at what?” I asked him.

His eyes snapped back to mine. “Huh? What? D...did I say that outloud?” He looked at me for confirmation so I nodded. “Sorry. Um. So, You can just call me Lu. I’ve been here for a little less than a year.”

His shoulders sagged at my silence, “So…” He steeled himself, forcibly perking himself up. “My roommate happens to run the gossip column at school. He told me what happened. It was pretty incredible. Where’d you learn to do that?”

I closed the door again, wondering if he was one of the people who posted on my feed. I leaned against it, glaring at the ground. “I wouldn’t say it was ‘incredible’.”

His voice sounded from the other side. “I know it's hard but I can help you. I… I know what it’s like okay? Just bear with it. You’ll do fine!”

I took a deep breath and cracked the door open. “Sorry…” I whispered.

“You’re fine okay?” He said, peering through the small space, his voice trembling with nervous laughter. “We just need to get you to the principal’s office. You don’t have to do anything. Oh and don’t forget to grab your coat. It’s pretty windy out there.”

As we walked down the campus paths, Lu kept glancing down at me like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. “So… what’s your name?”

I felt a chill run down my spine, recalling the results of using my childhood name. “I don’t like my name.”

“Oh… then… what do you prefer to be called? I feel bad just calling you, newbie.” More nervous laughter.

“Newbie is fine.” I told him. “But if there’s a name you like, just call me that.”

His nervousness turned to surprised dismay. “What? I can’t just call you whatever I want! What if someone else calls you something different?”

The corners of my mouth turned down. “You’re Mingfei Lu, right? You said, just call me Lu. Does everyone call you Lu?”

“Ah… good point.” He rubs his chin in thought. “But… What if I call you something you don’t like?”

I chuckled. “Then I’ll tell you. Like I said I didn’t mind, ‘newbie’.”

He rubbed the back of his neck but didn’t continue to object.

The administration building grew larger into view, fronted by a stone staircase. People hurried up and down, anxious to get out of the cold.

Once inside, Lu led me to the main office. We paused at the wooden door carved with the word ‘Principal’. Lu knocked before going in. Like most things at Cassell, the principal's office was larger than it needed to be. It was fancy, with black mirror tiles and a sleek glossy desk. Behind it sat Anjou who greeted me with a sympathetic grin. I couldn’t bring myself to smile back. That man fooled me into coming here and denied me access to my family. This was all his fault.

Johann and Caesar stood in front of the desk. Johann crosses his arms at my dour expression.

Caesar was bemused at my silent snarling. “It’s good to see you up and healthy. We are all grateful you made out alive.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I mumbled, my shoulders rising to my ears.

Johann's soft voice echoed in the roomy interior. “That’s Mingfei, he’s our other S-ranked student.”

“You’re S-ranked too?” I turned to him in shock.

Mingfei Lu held up his hands in self-defense.“ Don’t look at me like that! I’m just ranked as S! I don’t actually have any abilities at all.”

Anjou stood up from behind his desk, as tall as I remembered, smoking a cigar. He paced, massaging his beard as he began. “Now that we’re all here. We can start the mission briefing.”

My eyes lifted at the word ‘mission’, glancing at the others.

“Our intelligence is reporting the signal of a dragon embryo off the coast of Japan. This signal may be what we have been dreading. Analysis indicates that it is the signal of a first generation dragon lord. So we’re sending you as a team to meet with the Cassell College Japan division.”  

He took a drag of the cigar and let it out slowly. “This mission is Grade SS. We will need all of you."

My hand tentatively rose but he ignored me and continued.

“Our Japan branch is very secretive. This situation calls for the utmost discretion and sensitivity. However, I have maintained contact with Masamune Tachibana. He welcomes our assistance. Please, view this as a stepping stone for bringing our branches into closer cooperation.”

Filling with dread, I recalled Isaac’s Japanese companions and wondered if there was some connection to what I had done.

“Caesar, you’ll be the one leading on this mission.” Anjou nodded to him.

Caesar opened his mouth to speak but Johann responded. “Of course, that’s for the best.”

Caesar scowled at him. “Don’t steal my lines!” He cleared his throat. “We’ll complete the mission in no time at all, Principal Anjou! With time to do some souvenir shopping!” The blue-eyed hybrid waved a hand at me and flashed a smile, “In fact, I’d like to outfit you in the finest silk kimonos…”

“If that’s what you want to do.” I replied, reluctantly smiling back.

His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “This is your first mission as part of our team! That’s surely something to celebrate.”

“Wait… I'm going?" My smile turned to confusion. Somehow, I’d passed my E3 without writing anything. I killed my fellow students the night before. Now, he assigned me to work with top students and sent me to Japan.

While I struggled to grasp my new reality, silent seconds ticked by. Johann cleared his throat. Caesar glared at him. “You have something to say?”

Johann returned his gaze with a calm expression. “Nothing at all.”

“If you have something to say, you should say it!”. Caesar turned to fully face him.

Johann looked at me instead. “I promised you I would show you a frozen dragon specimen. But now you’ll be seeing the real thing.”

“When was this?” Caesar demanded of him. "Don't ignore me, Johann Chu!"

I looked between them both, baffled at Caesar’s sudden aggression. Lu hid his face behind his hand in embarrassment.

Anjou puffed on his cigar chuckling. “I have to interrupt.” He addressed me next. “My dear, your performance in the library tells me that you qualify for this dangerous mission.”

I frowned at his use of the word performance. “But I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, my voice trailing off.

He turned to the others. “I’d like to have a private word with our new student.”

As they walked out, Caesar continued to menace an unflappable Johann. “Keep in mind that it was Nono and I there at her arrival here…”

Lu followed them, glancing over his shoulder at me in worry before he was forced to jog after them to catch up.

Anjou sat down and gestured to a chair for me.

“You know,” he said. “Of all the recruits, you have outstanding resilience. You come to my office after everything you’ve been through.  After you hear that I’m sending you on a dangerous mission after this incident, you don’t immediately object.”

“Do I actually have a choice in any of this? You’re just throwing things at me and I’m trying to just survive here!” My voice shook. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”

He settled his cigar down on a silver ashtray. “Your talent is a Class S… the strongest kind. But it is extremely unstable. The injection Johann gave you is a temporary experimental measure. I’m hoping that the Japan Division might be hiding research that can aid us in preventing you from turning into a monster like Isaac.”

“What are you talking about?” My voice lowered to a whimper.

His uncharacteristic seriousness lent weight to his words. “What happened to Isaac could just as easily happen to you. I am committed to preventing that. You’re here to today because of that effort. Had you turned servitor after the injection, we would have had no choice but to eliminate you. You did not. So there is still hope.” He said this frankly, looking into my eyes. His expression turned grim. “I cannot keep you here against your will. I can only tell you the truth. Your chances of survival are slim outside of Cassell College.”

My self-protective sense of humor faltered and I found my desire to contact Robbie lessened. If this was to be my fate, then it would be better that he never saw me again. “And if there’s no cure?” I asked quietly.

“Let’s take courage and hope. We’re working on it.” His positivity returned.  “You remind me so much of my friend Manecke. When I look at you…” He took another puff.  “I see brilliance. Something will come up.”

My throat started to close and my eyes burned.  “Can I go?”

He nodded. I stood up and rushed out of the office.

Lu was waiting for me, but I pushed by him before he could say a word.

I managed to make it back to my apartment before I gave in to the shattering grief inside. My shadow twin appeared, kneeling next to me. She tried to catch my tears but they fell through her hand to the carpet. I wished I had never accepted the offer to come to Cassell. But if I hadn’t accepted, who knew what might have happened? Had I blissfully gone through life, I might have suddenly turned into a beast. I imagined myself as a ballerina, graceful and elegant, only to morph into a horrible monster a few years into my career. Maybe even on stage. It would have been awful.

My emotions began to subside and I picked myself up off the floor. Packing for the trip wasn’t difficult. Most of my things were still in my suitcase. As I went through my belongings, I wondered what I wanted to wear on my last few days on Earth. ‘Whatever felt comfortable on a plane’ won out.

I wrote in my school notebook what I wanted people to find after I was gone. I confessed that I hadn’t just killed Isaac, but possibly six or seven other people. I was a waste of everyone’s time and effort, especially Robbie and Mom’s.

My phone buzzed. Nono was trying to talk to me but I didn’t want to anymore. It was better if she forgot I ever existed. I turned the phone off.

My heart beat fast all the rest of the day and into the night.  I spent most of that night pacing around my apartment. The racing pulse made it impossible to sleep and robbed me of my appetite in the morning.

The next morning while I was turning out the lights and getting ready to meet the others to go to the airport, someone knocked on my door.

I opened to Nono, her crimson eyes narrowed. “You know, I don’t take it lightly when someone ignores my messages. Especially someone I’ve tried to be nice to.”

My shoulders lowered and I sighed. “Nono, I…”

She cut me off. “No, you need to listen to me. I know what happened was hard. Maybe even harder than most. But you have got to pull yourself together.”

“Life as a hybrid will never be fair or easy. Not one of us has had an easy and happy life. You’re one of us now. So buck up and do what needs to be done!”

I shrunk under her stare, swallowing hard.

“You’re going on a dangerous mission with Caesar and the others. And I can’t have you getting into a funk, slipping up and then someone else dies because of it.”

When I stood silently she took a step forward, her voice rising. “Do you understand? Do what you have to do to stop moping. If something happens to Caesar, I won’t forgive you.”

“Yes ma’am.” I whispered.

She turned, her heels clicking against the tile as she departed.

Previous Chapter

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Go back to the Beginning

[1989obsessed]

Tomorrow Never Dies-But You Do (Detective!5sos)

Genre: murder mystery

Pairings: Calum Hood/Reader. The rest of the band is also in this story

Word Count: about 1.2k

Trigger Warnings: mentions of death

A/N: I wrote this story 6 years ago as a freshman in high school. I have now edited it. This is my first attempt at something like this, but I wanted to give it a shot. Enjoy!

...

You’re on your way to work and scrolling through the radio stations, when you notice Calum calling you. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi y/n”, said Calum. “How long will it take you to get to the mall?” asked Calum. “About 10 minutes, why?” you responded. “Possible shooting in front of the mall, get here as fast as you can.” Calum said.  *call ended*. 

I arrive at the mall to find cop cars and yellow crime tape everywhere. I see the rest of my detective group, consisting of Luke, Michael, Calum and Ashton and make my way over to them. “So, what exactly happened?” I asked. “It seems the person was either entering or leaving the mall and someone drove by and shot her.” said Michael. “Do we have information on the victim? We will have to turn it into the police eventually.” You said. 

“We have just what happened. Once the autopsy is complete, we’ll know more.” Luke said. You and Luke were co-captains of the Los Angeles Detective Unit. You loved your job, as this has been your dream job ever since you were young. The second you met the other members is when life started to get better.

“Alright, team let’s get to work” said Ashton. You begin to take out your notepad to take notes on what the scene looks like and get information from bystanders. You’re in the middle of gathering information from a witness when you notice Calum staring at you. You give him a little smile and he smiles in return before looking away. You thought nothing of it and continued with the interview.

“I was getting out of my car when I heard a loud car start up, I looked up and saw this grey Mazda. I got my phone out to take pictures when I heard the gunshots. I managed to get some pictures, but I’m afraid they are blurry.” Said the witness. “We’ll take any information we can get, so thank you.” You started to write down all the information you could gather from the witness’s photographs.

“Ok gang let’s finish up here and head back to the office.” You hear Michael say. Once back at the office we start to dive into all the information we received so we can figure out who was murdered and who the murderer is.

“According to our witness, who wanted to remain anonymous, she describes the car as being a grey Mazda with a California license plate,” You reported. “She couldn’t get a good angle of what the shooters looked like though.”  The whole time you’re reporting, you notice Calum is all eyes on you and nothing but you. What was up with him? Maybe he likes you? He has recently offered to get you coffee every morning this past week. You shrug it off, as you have work to do.

“Guys, the police are here to go over things.” Ashton said. The police file into the conference room and proceed to release information. “The victim identified as Kat Farland was shot in the chest and died from implications from the bullet shortly after paramedics arrived.” An officer said. “Seems a handgun was involved.

“Do we have any information on who did the shooting?” Asked Calum. “We received some new photographs of their car, with the license plate number in clear shot,” another officer reported. “All we have to do is plug in the number,” he motioned to the computer “And the culprit’s information should pop up.”. Michael proceed to plug in the number. “Here’s the information we need. Name, addresses.”

“Alright, let’s head out and go catch ourselves a murderer.” You said. Once you and rest of the team arrived at the house, you were shaking inside. The house looked like something out of a horror movie. There was no sign of the Mazda. The house was in pretty good condition, except for some of the siding was falling off. “You ready to meet the murderer?” Michael asked. “Totally. The owner of this amazing house sounds like such a nice person.” you responded. “You know, sarcasm hurts sometimes.” Michael said. “Ok guys let’s focus,” Calum said.

You all proceed to the door. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, like you’ve done stuff like this before. Calum must have been able to see that you’re nervous because he whispers in your ear, “We’ve got this, I’m right here.” You give a soft smile in return.

Just as Luke is about to ring the doorbell, you hear a car pull up behind you. You all turn around to see a grey Mazda pulling into the driveway. “Uh, hi?” says one of the guys who gets out of the vehicle. “Hi, we are apart of the Los Angeles Detective Unit. We have some questions we’d like to ask you regarding a recent case.” Asks Ashton. “Uh sure I guess.’ The guy responded. Something was up with these guys, one sounded nervous and kept looking over at the other guy who got out of the passenger seat, who kept looking towards the back seat of the car.

“So, today there was a shooting at the local mall, and this car is linked to that shooting.” You stated. At this point, the police went to search the vehicle. Luke mentioned to the police about the two guys looking at the back seat. “Ya, and whatcha do about it, missy?” One guy said. They were eyeing each other, and you noticed one motioned to the other one to get something out of his pocket. “Both of you on the floor, hands behind your back NOW!” you yelled. “Michael, Ashton, grab them!” Michael and Ashton each grabbed a guy and threw them to the floor and proceeded to handcuff them. No more than three minutes later, the police were back. They held up a handgun. “Found it in the back seat.” One officer says. The two guys are escorted out of the house and loaded into the back of cop car.

You and rest of the team load up and head back to the office. “Great work everyone!” You say. “Thanks y/n, but we couldn’t have done it without you,” Luke says. “Yeah, you were quick to notice something was up with those two.” Calum chimed in. “You weren’t too shabby yourself Calum.” You replied giving a cheeky little smile. As of now, the room had emptied out leaving you and Calum to yourselves. “I wouldn’t mind hearing ya get feisty like that you again.” Calum said. “Oh really?” You questioned. “How about you do it again when I pick you up at 7 o’clock tomorrow night for a little dinner?” Calum asked with the biggest grin on his face. You give him a little tiger roar, “Sounds perfect Mr. Detective Calum.” For all you knew at that moment, this was only the beginning.

[iphoenixrising]

For 700 Followers!

Hi babe.

That is terribly angsty and now I’m intrigued.

(Just a note for babe not familiar with No Home for Dead Birds or Fracture: I write a scene in which Tim literally has a gun to head. This is not lighthearted angst, please be warned if you read this.)

**

At one time, his colors had been red, gold, and green.

At one time, he’d been part of something bigger, something important. A legacy.

At one time, he’d been able to fly without being afraid of falling.

Being Robin had been the epitome. Even with all the terrible things he’d endured, all the injuries, all the catastrophes, all the insane megalomaniacal baddies breathing down his neck, he wouldn’t have traded the tunic for anything in the world.

(Dick had known it, had known how painful it was for Tim give it up once his Dad found out.)

He would have died with the R on his chest and never had a single regret.

Realistically, he couldn’t have been Robin forever, and he’d known that someday he would have to give it up and either move on with his life as a regular person, or take on another name, another mask, to keep fighting the good fight.

He hadn’t expected Dick would take it without a thank-you or fuck you to mark the end. That hadn’t been in the plan.

But it’s fine because Dick was the first and Robin had been his anyway, right?

Right.

Wrong.

Staring down the .45 in hand, the gun his father hadn’t had the chance to use to save his own life, Tim Drake wonders how it all came down to this.

(Last one left standing. Of fucking course.)

How it had all come out so badly, how he could barely step foot back in Gotham, how he had to avoid the Manor, the Carriage House, his own family home. How he couldn’t pick up the phone or answer texts coming from his former team. How he could barely keep himself the fuck together now that Bruce was back. How his hands would start to shake when the Manor phone number popped up (Alfred). How his mind’s eye would go back to Dick at the Big Computer in the Batsuit, telling him they were still equals. How he would imagine what would happen if he hadn’t caught himself when that zip line was cut. How he would sit in his safe house, off the Bat radar, and mourn the times when he was actually–

(happy)

–part of a family.

The pictures from an old Vans shoebox, the ones he’d taken back when he’d had the run of Gotham, following Batman and Robin (Jason), are burning in the kitchen sink. He watches Nightwing’s blurry face melt away and pretends there aren’t tears in his eyes.

The old memorabilia from Haley’s Circus is in a storage unit outside the city, along with a box that has his last Robin suit.

The lawyer has strict instructions to deliver the key and a letter to his former adopted father, Bruce Wayne, upon news of his death so anything incriminating can be properly disposed.

(They wouldn’t need any of it anyway. They could just shred all of it and wash their hands of him. The Robin that never should have been.)

A map with all his safe houses would be send to Conner Kent, along with a letter of apology.

His favorite nerd shirts would go to Ives.

The sundries in his Perch would be for Steph, and the penthouse itself would go to Babs in case things in the theatre went sideways.

Bart would get a zip drive with all their old shenanigans on video, the only copies left once his systems uploaded relevant data to Titan’s Tower and his electronic footprint would be–

gone.

The box with the Red Robin costume he wore was already sealed and addressed to Jason Todd. The note on top was short and sweet: You were right. It never should have been me after all.

He’d already arranged for his share in Wayne Enterprises to be returned to Bruce Wayne immediately, handing him his family’s company back without any strings attached.

Months ago, he’d returned The Red Bird to the Cave when he was sure no one would be around to catch him. The implication that Robin would need the car one day right there in the fact he’d brought it back because honestly, it was never really his in the first place.

Alfred would get his pick of antiques from Drake Manor, and the house itself would be given to the city to be used as a halfway home for runaway teens. He’d made sure the funding would be there to run it for a few years. The donation was made in his mother’s name.

The hilt molds to his palm, the barrel glinting bright in the night. To his credit, his hands aren’t shaky when he slides the clip home and pulls the slide back to put one in the chamber.

(The team had been working fine without him for a while now. Even if they did need someone, there was another Robin to join the roster and keep them moving forward.)

An abrupt light in the darkness, his phone screen lighting up with a missed call notification.

Missed call: Dick the OG

Ironic since the last time he’d come this far, it had been him calling out to the last person he thought could pull him back.

(Not this time. He has a new little brother, a new Robin.)

Slowly, without putting down the .45, he presses the ignore when the phone starts buzzing against with another incoming call. He thumbs the button on the side to turn the phone completely off without listening to the voicemail.

The clip makes a difference, but the absurdity of it, of the last time he did this, was when his future self was a murdering, gun-toting Batman, and the only way he could see to stop it was to stop himself.

The press of the barrel is familiar, and not in that soothing kind of way.

He blinks, just blinks, and his face is wet, which is really stupid because no one is going to miss him any damn way.

His chest gets tight when he fingers the trigger guard, giving himself the time he needs to do it right. In the final moments, he inanely thinks about the time he was huddled against Dick, right after he'd almost tried cloning his dead best friends in an insane attempt to bring them back. It's really the last time he remembers being held, being warm, feeling like he still fucking mattered. It was Dick holding him tight with restraining, breathing against the top of his head, fingers buried in his hair.

It's when he could be weak while still in the mask, babbling to Dick about how he can't do this, he can't lose them all. He was crying then, too, when he told Dick about his mom and dad leaving, leaving, always fucking leaving. About how he got used to seeing their backs more than their faces. How he was left standing on his own for too damn long to just let it keep happening. He couldn't keep losing them, couldn't keep seeing people walk away, how it fucking breaks him.

And in the here and now, his chest hitches, eyes fluttering, hand tightening down because he'd said...and Dick had...

"But I'm here, Timmy. I'm always going to be your big brother!"

It had been the last time he'd been surrounded by the famed octopus hold.

(It was the last time for a lot of things.)

He laughed, smothered in Dick shoulder, something further away from a sob. "Then I guess you'll at least never leave me, right?"

"You will never be able to get rid of me. C'mon. We're going the hell home and having a movie day. Screw the Lazarus Pit, Robin. It's time for some R and R."

Dick had half-carried him to the waiting Batplane and talked him down out of trying to use the Pit for his own gain ever again.

The first knuckle rests on the smooth curve, a six-pound trigger.

(In the end, they all leave.)

(Not again.)

Conner's terrible mohawk and leather jacket.

Bart racing Wally at a hotdog eating competition.

Cassie running full tilt to throw herself at him when he'd come to Titan's Tower to ask them for help when Ra's was going to kill everyone Batman ever loved.

Raven nuzzling Gar out of plain sight so no one would think she was totally gone for him.

Jason coming to the Tower, alive good God, and the Robin he used to be super-imposed to be his hero and enemy in the same ghostly figure.

Bruce putting a hand on his shoulder on a ride back to the Cave, chasing the dawn, the Good work, tonight tired but sincere, and his whole body lights up.

His mother looking at peace in her coffin, a lily in her folded hands.

His eyes close on the out-of-the-way safe house, the plain beige walls, stripped and soulless. He keeps the team in his mind, the times he was happy.

Now.

Instead of a resounding boom followed by his grey matter splattering his personality, intelligence, imagination, him all over–

the wall to the safe house caves in under a super punch.

Conner is white as a sheet on the other side, brick and mortar crumbling under his hands. "No! Tim. Tim. Put. The. Gun. Down."

His mouth is dry and his brain pan full of nothing but pain and disappointment.

(But you brought it all on yourself, didn't you? The Robin nobody wanted. The son nobody asked for.)

He isn't numb enough to be calm, cool, and collected. "All...all you have to do–" a hitch in his breathing "–is walk away."

The meta floats in a little closer, hovering over the flooring instead of outside. His hands stretch out, gaze focused and intense.

"Can't do that, buddy. Looks like I should have been more of an asshole after all the League of Assassins shenanigans. Sorry, my bad."

Kon knows he's in trouble when Tim Drake doesn't laugh.

"Tim," he goes to serious in about two point five seconds because the hand holding that shiny automatic tightens enough for him to hear the screws in the hilt strain, "Tim. It's me here, okay? It's just you and me, just like it's always been. We’re besties, whether you're Robin or Red Robin or Tim fucking Drake because that guy is so damn cool." He inches closer, wondering if he's fast enough, wondering if he can really get to Tim in time–

Like the former Robin can read his mind, those violet-blue eye give him a blink.

"I’ve always wondered if you really are faster than a speeding bullet."

“No!”

(...as it turns out, he isn’t.)

[hard-satin]

A Novel Approach (5.05)

Masterlist

I force my eyes back open as Stiles scream echos in my head. I need to help him. I have to save him. I look with blurry vision as Stiles who is running from the jeep. He stops and turns back around.

“Come get me!” He screams at whoever is behind me. I can hear someone standing. Stiles looked to me one last time before running to the school. Someone is chasing him. I recognise him. It’s Donovan. The two disappear into the school.

I struggle to my feet. Donovan hit me hard. My legs are barely moving and with every step I take the world sways and I’m sure I’m going to fall. I keep pushing myself forward one step at a time I need to make it to Stiles.

I heard a scream. I ran towards the sound fresh adrenalin giving me the strength to heal. I found myself banging on the locked doors of the library where I heard Stiles fighting for his life inside. I felt my eyes glow at the sound of Stiles screams. I grabbed the door handles and with a roar I ripped them both free of their hinges. I ran inside and saw Stiles on the construction tower. Donovan beneath him holding onto his legs.

I made to charge the boy but Stiles managed to pull free a pin in the construction tower. It sent metal pipes raining down on Donovan. Knocking him off Stiles legs. The boy feel along with the pipes. As he reached the ground one impaled his chest. I looked away from the gruesome sight to Stiles who was still clinging to the construction tower. I watched him climb down and examine Donovan. I ran to him and together we tried to pull the boy free of the pipe, but he died before we could. Silver liquid poured from where the pipe stuck out of his chest.

Stiles seemed to be in shock. He didn’t move as I looked him over. I found the bite mark on his shoulder from Donovan's hands. They still had horrifying mothers on their palms. He was cut up and bruised but overall seemed okay.

When I finished looking him over he pushed past me to the library desk. I stood watching him as he picked up the phone and dialed three numbers.

“Stiles no! Look at him, at his hands and his teeth. What are the police going to do?” I asked as the phone rang. I listened as the operator picked up. Stiles stayed silent his breathing heavy.

“Want me to send a car out? What’s the address?” A male voice on the other end of the call asked.

“It’s the school, Beacon Hills high.” The woman told the man.

“We’ll see if we have a car in the area.” I heard the man say before the line went dead. Stiles walked to the door. He propped it open with a book. His hands shaking. He jumped when a vibrating sound broke the silence of the library. I turned to see a phone lighting up in Donovan’s jacket pocket. I walked to the body and retrieved Stiles phone. I walked it over to him.

“It’s Malia.” I told him handing him his phone. He took it and quickly pressed ignore. I helped him off the ground and dragged him back out to the jeep. As soon as he saw it he broke away from me. Running to the jeep he worked quickly under the hood to start her. We jumped in but then he froze. Breathing heavy as he watched his shaking hands.

“Stiles lets go.” I prompted him gently. His eyes shot up as he heard the sound of police sirens. He moved his hands to the clutch but then he froze again. I grew anxious as the sirens grew closer.

“Stiles?” I asked. Studying his face hoping he would put the jeep in gear and get us the hell out of here. Instead he turned off the headlights and backed us into a darkened corner of the parking lot. We turned to watch as the police cruiser pulled in a couple seconds later. When the deputy came out of the school a couple minutes later Stiles turned on the radio to hear what he would report.

“It’s a 693.” The deputy reported. I looked to Stiles my brows furrowed in confusion. His expression matched my own.

“Roger that. Prank call.” The operator confirmed. The deputy got into his cruiser and pulled away.

“Alright Stiles lets go home.” I told him practically begging. He ignored me and jumped out of the jeep before racing off to the school. I was quick to chase after him.

He ran into the library and stopped short. I nearly knocked into him. When I looked around there was nothing. No knocked over shelves. No falled rods. No body. Stiles walked further inside to investigate. His hand reaching out to run over one of the pipes that had been on the floor but were now propped against the wall.

“Stiles don’t.” I tried to warn him as I inhaled and picked up on an all too familiar scent. Stiles traced a finger down the bar anyway. It came away bright red, coated in fresh blood. Stiles stood frozen. He hadn’t listened to me once so I stopped trying to talk to him.

I took his arm and dragged him from the library. I led him to the jeep and pushed him into the passenger seat.I took the keys from his shaking hands and hopped behind the wheel. I leaned over to pull his seat belt around him as he stared blankly out the window. I started up the jeep and headed for home. I glanced at him every once in awhile out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if there was anything I could do.

As soon as we pulled into the driveway he was out of the car and at the door. I turned the jeep off and headed inside just in time to hear him slam his door closed. Headed to the kitchen and went to work on making the burgers I promised him. It would give him time to think, and give me time to think. Stiles had killed a man. I knew it wasn’t his fault. It had been an accident that occurred in self defense, but someone was still dead.

I ate my burger down stairs. I wasn’t sure why I did that, but I knew it was because my bestfriend had gone from a sweet innocent kid just trying to save the world to a killer. Accident or no his actions resulted with someone’s death. The thing was I knew I would have tore Donovan apart for what he was doing to Stiles. I knew this already. I knew it that day in the station when he was threatening Noah. What I didn’t know was that Stiles would have done the same. Would have been able to kill him. I was having trouble processing what he had done specifically because he was the one who had done it. If it had been Malia or Liam I don’t think it would have been this hard to comprehend, but not Stiles.

I walked slowly with his burger up to his room. I knocked softly before pushing the door open. Stiles was shaking standing at his crime board. His eyes had welled with tears. I held up the plate of food and he barely acknowledged me. I walked behind him and placed the plate on his desk. I sat on his bed and watched him write.

First he wrote donovan not dead walked out as a suggestion for the disappearance of his body. I knew this couldn’t be true I had heard his heart stop beating. We had both watched the light fade from his eyes. He must have known this too because he wrote another possibility on the board. Donovan dead, someone took the body. He double underlined the word dead and then just stared at it. He lunged for the eraser and erased everything he had just written frantically. Tears starting to fall and his breath coming shallower and shallower. He was about to have a panic attack.

I was off the bed and had my arms wrapped around him instantly. I pulled the eraser from his hand and set it back on the board. He was crying and shaking and suddenly it didn’t matter what he did.

“Stiles. Look at me Stiles.” I told him taking his head in my hands and making him look at me for the first time that night. His eyes found mine.

“You going to tell me everything’s okay?” He asked almost bitterly. I shook my head, I couldn’t do that.

“I’m going to tell you that I’m here, we’re both safe and you can make it through this.” I told him. He took a shaky breath.

“What if I’m not strong enough?” He asked.

“You are but if you need my help I’ll be right beside you.” I assured him.

“You don’t hate me? You don’t think I’m a monster?” He asked. I shook my head.

“I am. I killed him.” Stiles told me tears streaming down his cheeks.

“You’re not. You survived, that’s all. You’re not a killer Stiles you’re a survivor. That doesn’t make you a monster, it makes you human.” I told him. He seemed to believe me at least partially because he pulled my to him in a hug. His tears quickly wetting my hair where he hid his face in my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him and let him cry. We stood like that for over ten minutes. Him sobbing into my shoulder and me just holding him. Eventually he pulled away his eyes dryer and gave me almost a half smile before resting his forehead against mine and trying to catch his breath.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he almost jumped out of his skin at the noise. He quickly answered it.

“Yeah Scott?” He answered putting it on speaker phone.

“Someone’s taking the bodies.” Scott told us. Stiles got a far away look in his eyes and I knew he was thinking back to the library. I put a hand on his arm running it up and down to sooth him and bring him back to reality.

“Stiles are you there?” Scott asked.

“He is and so am I.” I answered Scott.

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asked him.

“I’m at the animal clinic with Kira. Tracy’s body’s gone and the lock on the door is broken from the outside. My mom told me lucas’s body in missing from the morgue. They’re searching the whole hospital for it. Someone’s stealing the bodies.” Scott told us. I looked down at my phone as a text came through. It was Malia. She had sent me a picture of a book she found it Tracy’s room.

‘“This is them. The guys in masks.” I read looking at the picture of the old paperback book called the dread doctors. I showed it to Stiles.

“Guys you should call Malia. I think she found something. Stiles and I will talk to you at school tomorrow.” I told Scott before hanging up the phone. Stiles went to his computer, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“You need to sleep.” I told him sternly leaving no room for negotiations. I went to his desk and unplugged his laptop taking it with me.

“Finish your burger , take a shower and then go to bed.” I told him before heading off to my room. My head was spinning when I closed my door behind me. I think for the first time since Scott was bitten it was hitting me how fucked up our lives were. I set Stiles computer down and stripped off my clothes stumbling to my shower. The water was frigid when it hit my back but I didn’t try and make it warmer. If I did then Stiles shower would get cold, plus I didn’t really care. I washed my hair and scrubbed my skin until it glowed a bright red. I walked dripping and naked into my room. I didn’t feel like getting a towel or being a person, so I shifted into a wolf. I shook the water from my fur and looked to my bed. I so wanted to jump up and fall asleep but I needed to check on Stiles.

I pushed my door open with my nose. I padded down the hall to his room. I scratched at his door with my paw. There was no reply. I could hear his heartbeat. He was sitting on his bed. I jumped up and opened the door with my paw. I pushed it all the way open and trotted inside. Stiles had showered and I could smell that he had eaten at least most of his burger. H was in a loose t-shirt and boxers sitting at the edge of his bed staring at his hands. I walked over to him and put my head in his lap. His eyes were watering again and I whined at the sight. I jumped up and put my paws against his chest forcing him to lie back in his bead. The I nosed at his legs that were hanging off the side so he would pull them up. I trotted to the end of his bed and pulled the comforter over him. I turned to go but he stopped me.

“Jamie?” I turned back around to look at him.

“I don’t want to sleep alone.” He told me his voice small and frail. I immediately started walking over to hop up onto his bed.

“Can you shift back?” He asked voice just as small but this time more pleading. He looked almost embarrassed to have asked. I dipped my head in a nod before turning to head to my room.

“You can use some of my clothes. Just please don’t leave.” He was so scared. I dipped my head again and he closed his eyes. I shifted back into a girl rising from all fours to grab something from his dresser. I pulled out a pair of sweatpants that nearly fell of my hips and a t-shirt that was practically a dress. I hit the light and crawled into bed next to him. His arms found me and pulled me to his chest. He was holding me a little too tight but I didn’t move. My head fell against his chest and I wrapped my hand around his upper arm and started taking away his pain. A couple minutes later his breathing was deep and he was asleep. I listened to the steady beat of his heart and followed him a minute later.

-

The next morning I let Stiles sleep in a little bit as I rose to get dressed for school. I was in my room pulling my shirt over my head when I heard him scream. I ran into his room to see what was wrong. I threw the door open and he was on me, his arms wrapped around me holding me tight.

“I’m right here.” I comforted him.

“I woke up and you were gone.” His voice was shaky.

“I’m here.” I repeated his heartbeat soon calmed and I pulled away.

“Get ready for school. I’ll make some pancakes and we can skip first.” I told him.

“Can’t we just skip the whole day?” He begged. I shook my head and he huffed.

A couple minutes later I was plating the sixth pancake and Stiles walked slowly downstairs. I made a chocolate chip smiley face on his before setting them in front of him.

“Don’t tell Scott.” He said as he looked at his pancakes.

“What?” I asked taken aback by his request.

“Don’t tell Scott about Donovan.” He told me looking up and pleading with me.

“Are you going to?” I asked him. He shook his head.

“Stiles.” I scolded him gently.

“I will eventually I’m just not ready.” He told me.

“Okay. Eat your pancakes and I won’t tell Scott.” I promised him. I watched as he dug into his breakfast.

-

I met up with Scott as he and Kira were coming out of the library. She had to go to class but Scott and I had a free period. Stiles was meeting with Malia to talk about what she found in Tracy’s room.

“What can I do you for?” I asked Scott. He had texted me to meet up with him but I had no idea why.

“We need to talk to Theo about this book and Stiles hates him so I figured it should just be you and me.” He told me holding out a dense stack of papers that I could only assume was the book. I took the one he was holding out for me and put it in his backpack but there was another one in his hand.

“Alright where are we meeting him?” I asked.

“Where we hold all our secret school meetings.” Scott told me before heading off down the hallway I followed after him.

Theo flipped through the pages in the locker room. Scott and I stood with our arms crossed hoping he would come up with something.

“I’d never even heard of a kanima until a few days ago.” He told us.

“It’s okay.” I told him a little disappointed.

“You want me to read this?” Theo asked.

“It’s okay. I’m only on chapter one. Jamie hasn’t even started.” Scott told him.

“You guys do this a lot hun.” Theo said.

“Do what?” Scott asked.

“Get involved.” Theo elaborated.

‘Yeah, I guess.” Scott told him.

“What about the author. I mean if he knew all about these guys shouldn’t we be talking to him?” Theo asked.

“We thought about that but it’s pretty much a dead end.” I told him.

“What about this guy?” Theo asked holding up the last page. Scott and I leaned in to take a closer look. It’s the acknowledgements page. Listed there is the name Dr. Gabriel Valeck. Scott and I share a look.

“What? Do you know him or something?” Theo asked.

“Yeah.” Scott told him.

“Even better. We know where to find him.” I told Theo.

-

Kira and I drove to Scott's house after school. Stiles was going to pick us up and take us to Eichen house to talk to Valeck. Kira had been trying to tell me something all day but Scott kept popping out of nowhere and cutting her off.

“I can’t believe I lost my belt.” Kira groaned.

“You probably just left it over here.” Scott calmed her as we walked into the kitchen.

“Scott you go check upstairs. Kira and I will look around down here.” I told him quickly and ushering him up the stairs. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge.

“Aren’t you going to look?” Kira asked confused.

“Kira I may not know the details of what you and Scott get up to when you’re left home alone, nor do I want to but I do have a pretty good idea of where your belt wound up and it’s not downstairs.” I told her as I pulled myself up onto the kitchen counter to drink my soda. Kira blushed at my implications.

“I just wanted to get Scott out of the way so you could talk to me. You’ve been trying to tell me something all day and he keeps interrupting. We’re alone now so spill.” I tell her leaning back to take a deep sip of my soda.

“Scott told me he loves me.” My eyes go wide and soda spews from my mouth. I start hacking and sputtering trying to regain my breath. This was not what I was expecting to hear.

“Well that’s certainly shocking but isn’t that good news?” I asked Kira as stopped choking.

“I don’t know. He just said it so off hand that I don’t even think he realised he said it.” Kira told me.

“Did you ask him about it?” I asked her.

“No.” She admitted.

“Then go upstairs and ask him. I’ll be down here cleaning the kitchen if you need me.” I told her. She seemed hesitant but eventually climbed the stairs. I got to work wiping the soda off the counters and floors. I focused my hearing on Scott’s room upstairs. It might have technically been eavesdropping but I preferred to think of it as helping out my romantically awkward friends.

“I don’t see it anywhere.” Scott told Kira as she walked into the room.

“I’m pretty sure it’s in here. Remember when you woke up you told me not to forget my belt.” Kira told him as I heard her walking around the room.

“I don’t remember saying that.” Scott told her.

“You don’t remember saying a lot of things.” Kira grummbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott asked her.

“It means… nothing. Forget it.” Kira told him. I groaned.

“You okay?” Scott asked her. I smiled. That a boy Scottie when girl tells you to forget it you should definitely not forget it. I felt almost proud.

“Can you do me a favor? Can you look at me with your eyes?” Kira asked. I furrowed my brows as I finished wiping off the floor. Kira was straying far from the topic she went up there to discuss.

“I am.” Scott chuckled.

“I mean your other eyes.” Kira explained and I heard them stand.

“Just tell me what you see.” Kira told him nervously. I was beyond confused.

“What did you see something?” Kira asked a second later. I heard Scott's pulse spike. Something was off.

“Yeah, I found your belt.” Scott told her.

“Everything else was fine.” Scott told her as I heard them coming downstairs. I heard his pulse spike again. Liar.

I looked to Kira when they walked downstairs staying just out of there sight. I let my eyes glow golden so I could see whatever Scott had. Surrounding Kira was her fox aura but it was twice as large as it had ever been before and seemed to be consumed by flames. Something was definitely going on with Kira.

-

Kira and Lydia pressed the call button at the gates of Eichen house. Scott, Stiles and I were hanging out back by the jeep. I could sense the anxiety coming off of Stiles. It had increased as we drove up to the building but I knew the asylum wasn’t the main source of his anxiety.

“Are you going to be okay in there?” Scott asked him.

“Yeah. Why?” Stiles asked him.

“You seem a little off.” Scott pointed out. I looked to Stiles. This was a good moment to explain what happened in the library.

“I think we’re all a little off.” Stiles told him avoiding it. I looked down. I didn’t want him to see the disappointment behind my eyes.

“Maybe some of us more than others.” Scott looked to Kira.

“What happened?” Stiles asked him.

“Well when the other chimera Lucas, when he came after us I heard Kira say something in japanese.” Scott told us. Stiles and I shared a look of confusion.

“Okay, that doesn’t seem to bad.” Stiles told Scott.

“She doesn’t know any japanese.” Scott told us.

“Still not terrible.” I pointed out.

“I also think I might have stopped her from killing Lucas.” Scott finally added.

“Okay.” Stiles conceded to the fact that Kira’s behavior was worrisome.

“You should have lead with that Scottie.” I scolded him teasingly.

“Wasn’t Lucas trying to kill you though? I mean it just sounds like self defense.” Stiles told Scott. I knew he wasn’t thinking about what Kira had done at the club but what he had done at the library.

“It was more than that. I mean she nearly took off his head.” Scott told us.

“Maybe she had no choice. There has to be a point where self defense is justified. Tracy killed her own father, and Lucas would have killed you.” Stiles pointed out.

“They’re not the bad guys. They’re the victims.” Scott pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a point where self defense is justified.” I pointed out to Scott, trying to get him to say what I knew Stiles needed to hear to open up to him.

“We shouldn’t be killing the people we’re trying to save.” Scott told me. The gate buzzed open behind him and he turned to join Lydia and Kira. I rubbed circles on Stiles back and gently guided him to the open gate. He was lost in his own thought and I knew none of them were good.

We walked through the gates and up the stairs toward the building. We all stopped when the gate slammed shut behind us and locked in place. I did not like the look of this place. I was starting to see why Stiles hated it so much.

-

“Please empty your pockets into the container.” The man in scrubs behind the front desk instructed.

“We’re here to see…” Scott began to explain.

“Please empty your pockets into the container.” The man cut him off. We all complied dumping in our phones and wallets and keys.

“Please remove your belt and place it into the container.” The man told Kira.

“I kind of need the belt. I mean it's crucial to the outfit.” Kira told him.

“Please remove your belt which patients will attempt to take from you and use to strangle either themselves or others.” The man told her. Kira took off her belt. The man started staring down Lydia. He already had a pervy vib. I stepped in front of her cutting off his view. I stared him down as he turned away.

“I’ll remind you I’m only doing this as a favor to Deaton. I’m doing this against my better judgment.” Dr. Conrad came to get us and lead us to Valeck.

“Hey what’s the edicate for talking to this guy? Do you ever look at the other eye?” Stiles asked.

“I wouldn’t. In fact while you’re down here try not to make eye contact with anyone or anything.” Dr. Conrad advised.

As we walked down a hall Scott, Kira and I suddenly came to a stop. Stiles and Lydia turned around when they realised we were no longer with them.

“You didn’t think you were all going did you?” Dr. Conrad asked.

“I didn’t write it down in my diary if that’s what you mean but I wasn’t exactly expecting to let my friends go in alone.” I growled grumpily as I strained against the invisible barrier.

“It’s mountain ash isn’t it?” Scott asked.

“Everywhere, but heavily concentrated down here. Valek's cell is the last one at the end of the hall.” Dr. Conrad told Stiles and Lydia swiping his key card to let them through the gate.

“We’ll be right here.” Scott assured them before the pair headed inside.

“Yeah, right here where we can’t do anything if they need our help.” I complained.

“I feel weak.” Kira said as she leaned against the wall for support.

“It’s like being sedated.” Scott told her.

“This was a bad idea wasn’t it?” Kira asked.

“Yes, definitely.” I agreed with her.

“No, they’ll be okay without us.” Scott spoke at the same time. He gave me a look that suggested my pessimism wasn’t helping the situation.

“Those two are pretty good together.” Scott told her.

“Yeah.” Kira agreed.

“I mean no super strength, no samurai swords but they stay alive.” Scott noted.

“He still likes her doesn’t he?” Kira asked Scott. I chuckled quietly from the position I’d taken up laying on the floor. Stiles Stilinski would always like Lydia Martin.

“Yeah, but it’s different now. I mean you should have seen the way he used to be around her.” Scott told her.

“Be glad you didn’t.” I spoke up.

“Was it bad?” Kira asked.

“It was kind of obsessive.” Scott told her.

“Kind of?” I asked him.

“But not all bad. You know Lydia used to pretend not to be smart.” Scott told us. I remembered the days.

“Our Lydia?” Kira asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, Stiles was the only one that knew.” Scott told her.

“How?” Kira asked.

“He payed attention. He listened to her. He remembered.” Scott told her. I looked up as the lights flickered overhead.

“Did you see that?” Scott asked turning to look at me. I nodded as I pushed myself to my feet.

“No, but I am seeing this.” Kira told us. We turned to her. She had her hand held away from her almost like she was afraid of is as it sparked with electricity. I stood by Scott’s side as Kira’s entire boy ignited with sparks.

“Kira, whatever you’re doing please stop.” Scott told her. I rolled my eyes at him. This obviously wasn’t Kira’s doing.

“I’m not doing anything. It’s just happening.” Kira told him. I looked up as the lights overhead started sparking in time with the sparks shooting off Kira. I ducked bringing Scott down with me as the power surged. A second later I felt the shattered glass rained down around us. When I opened my eyes again it was dark and Kira was unconscious.

“Kira?” I called her name as Scott approached her.

“Kira?” Scott asked reaching out to her.

“Scott don’t.” I warned. He touched her anyway. A bolt of electricity struck him in the chest. It sent him flying backwards. I hit the floor as his body flew over my head and slammed into the gated door behind me. I heard him groan. I let out a breath relieved he was still alive. I looked up as Dr. Conrad walked through the gate to where Scott had fallen.

“Something’s happening, and I think she’s causing it.” Scott told him as Dr, Conrad helped him to his feet.

“We need to get her out of here now.” Dr. Conrad ordered. I snorted at him.

“Yeah okay, why don’t you just grab her legs and drag her out. See how that works for you.” I told him.

“She’s right. How are we going to get her out if none of us can touch her?” Scott asked Dr. Conrad. We all turned as the sound of clicking echoed from behind us. Three men in trenchcoats and metallic masks stood behind the door.

“I think you’d better run.” Dr. Conrad informed us.

“I’m can’t leave her.” Scott told him. The Dread Doctors were opening the door.

“I can.” Dr. Conrad informed us before running out the side door. I stood ready to fight at Scott’s side. I looked up at him as they made their way through the door. He looked back at Kira and turned away.

“Thank god.” I muttered glad that we weren’t going to be fighting the crazy masked men. Then I watched Scott take Kira into his arms. I covered my nose as the smell of charred flesh invaded my senses. I held the door open for Scott and we ran down the side hallway. I lead the way. The sound of lights exploding following me as Scott fought to keep Kira in his arms. I ran ahead and kicked down the front doors. Scott was close behind. We made it to the edge of the road before he collapsed. Kira was laying in his arms. Slowly her sparks died down. Scott started to heal.

“In the club. You said. You said…” Kira starts to talk to Scott as she stirred.

“I remember, and I meant it.” Scott told her. She smiled at him as they both collapsed from exhaustion. I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t the ideal time for their lovey dovey relationship moment but at least now they were both unconscious.

Stiles and Lydia raced out of Eichen a couple minutes later. Stiles ran off to pull the car up. Lydia opened the door for me. I loaded the unconscious couple into the backseat and Stiles drove us away from my least favorite place in California.

[new-graduate-rn]

New Graduate Registered Nurse Residency Program Portfolio

Hi there!

I interviewed for a new graduate RN position about 2 months ago without practicing any interview questions or anything and I was offered a position! I didn't send a post interview thank you letter/email/note or anything. I really believe why they wanted to hire me was because of my nursing portfolio or maybe because they liked me? Lol who knows.  I didn’t accept the offer due to personal issues going on right now but I really believe this helped me in getting an offer. In this post I will include how I complied and prepared my nursing portfolio for success! If you’re interested please keep on reading and also note this is how I prepared my portfolio. I tailored my portfolio to the documents/presentations/material that I currently have. Your portfolio doesn’t necessarily have to look like this. If you have more or less documents please feel free to change it up to however makes you look more appealing as a candidate.

First thing to do: ORGANIZE. It can take a while to compile various original documents. It literally took me 2-3 months to compile all this information together and I am still in the process of gathering more.

Documents you could possibly include:

Title/Cover Page

Table of Contents Page

Resume

Cover Letter

Personal Statement

Unofficial/Official Transcripts

Diploma

Certifications: ACLS/BSL/PALS Card, Hospital Fire and Life Safety Card, Respirator Fit Testing Card, First Aid Card, Driver’s License/ID Card, RN License/RN Certificate, basically any certifications you have.

Letters of Recommendation from Professors or Clinical Instructors

Letters of Reference from Managers, Supervisors, Coworkers

Letters of Character from Mentors, Friends, Classmates

Work Evaluations

Extracurricular Activities

Volunteering

Awards

Professional Presentations/Projects

Health Records: Physical Exam, Vaccinations, Titers

This may seem like a lot of information/documents to find but this is where awesome time management skills come in handy. Be mindful this could take a couple of months to gather all this information. It really depends on how well you plan and how far in advance you ask instructors/people for letters. I believe the letters took the longest only because I couldn’t dictate on how fast to write them. lol. 

Title/Cover Page

For each portfolio I make I like to create a custom title/cover page. On this page I usually include a picture of the hospital/facility logo, the name of the program, the unit I am applying to, my name, credentials, my school c/o 20___, cumulative GPA, registered nurse #________, and a picture of myself all on 1 page. Because this goes in the front of my portfolio it makes it a bit more professional, memorable, and individualized. Although it is relatively simple it shows that you put effort into something to make it for the institution because you added the facility logo. Some people say do and don’t do the photo. It really depends on what you’re comfortable with. I believe a photo will make you more memorable and when they hear a name they will (hopefully) remember the face. lol. Also be mindful to choose a photo that is appropriate: good background, not blurry, well dressed, put together. Ex. graduation photo, pinning ceremony photo, or pre-graduation photoshoot photos. The first thing they will see of your portfolio will be your title/cover page so make it professional but most of all memorable. 

Table of Contents

I like to include a table of contents page only because I have a lot of documents and hopefully to make it easier on the reader. They can skim the table of contents and it can give them a run down on what documents are going to be found in the portfolio. Again, it is a very simple thing to do, but it shows the attention to detail and will make your portfolio more pleasant to read.

Resume

I have entire post dedicated to a new graduate RN resume. I rewrite my resume every other week. I let other people look at it with fresh eyes because it can be hard for me to find mistakes especially when I see the same thing over and over again. Please go to this link and read more about a new graduate rn resume.

https://new-graduate-rn.tumblr.com/post/165532322180/new-graduate-registered-nurse-resume

Unofficial/Official Transcripts

At my school, unofficial transcript copies are free all we need to do is show our ID and we can get a copy right then and there. Official transcripts are not free and there is usually a fee to get them sent somewhere and it usually takes a couple of days. Most hospitals accept unofficial transcripts during the interview/application process, but if hired be prepared to contact your school to have them send the official ones. Some hospitals upon hire ask that you get a sealed envelope of the official transcripts or have them send it to the HR office. Keep in mind if there is a deadline most schools take a couple of days to send the transcript since it is most likely going to be through the mail.

Diploma

I graduated in May 2017 and our school did not send out my diploma until August 2017. I relied on my unofficial transcripts as proof that I completed all my rotations and my grades. If you don’t have your diploma before an interview make sure you include the unofficial transcripts and also let them know the diploma will be coming soon. Like official transcripts, some hospitals require you to bring in the original diploma for their hiring process. 

Certifications

Most certifications such as ACLS, BLS, PALS, first aid, and RN license, etc are in the card form. What I like to do is put all of the card certifications on the same paper right next to each other instead of them being on different pages. It makes it look a lot cleaner and more condensed. Instead of having to turn the page for each certification all of them will be found on the same 1-2 pages. Also please make sure to include the backs of some of the certifications such as the ACLS, BLS, PALS, fit testing card etc. some hospitals require that the certifications be done by the American Heart Association and this aids in proving you have the correct and desired certification.

Work Evaluation

As mentioned earlier I am a nursing aid/care partner and I have been working there for about a year. This year I had my evaluation done and I was required to turn it in to my boss. I made sure to keep a copy for myself to include it in my documentation/portfolio my proof of work and work ethic.

Letters of Recommendation/Reference/Character

I asked my clinical instructors and professors for a letter of recommendation as soon as a rotation was over so they would not forget me, lol. It does happen and the sooner you ask them the more likely they will remember you. I also asked my letters of reference from my supervisors (current and previous) to have proof of my work ethic. As for my extracurricular activities, my church doesn’t give out certificates or anything like that so I asked my choir director and pastor for letters that showed my community service & leadership experiences. I asked all of these letters either in person, text message, phone call, or through email. I was fortunate enough to be close to all the people who were able to write me letters. Be mindful to keep contact with these people after they have written you a letter because some employers ask that the people who wrote the reference also complete an online reference form for HR and hiring paperwork. The first step is getting the letter, but the second step is maintaining contact with them so that when it is needed you can easily contact them. Another thing to note is make sure the letters are written on letterhead paper. Some hospitals ask that it is written on letterhead and will not accept any that is not.

Extracurricular Activities

I was not very active in my schools extracurricular activities, but I was active in my local community church. I included letters from my choir director and pastor regarding my leadership and experiences there. Put anything that is separate from academic related things such as: CNSA, sorority/fraternity/community service/church work/volunteering, school clubs, anything! This is to showcase you’re more than just into school/grades but also volunteering and socializing and leadership experiences!

Awards

Awards don’t necessarily have to only be related to school it can also be related to any of the extracurricular activities. Some school related awards could be honors, academic excellence, tuition awards etc. Any awards you have should be included!

Professional Projects/Presentations

At my school in my senior year each rotation we had to create a presentation/project that needed to be presented to the class or to the facility at each rotation. In my research class we were required to make a poster presentation of a comprehensive literature review. I included these presentations as they were more recent and I believe were the best material since it was for my senior level classes.

Health Records: Physical Exam, Vaccinations, Titer

I have seen some people include their health records in their portfolios. It is really up to you. I personally did not include them only because I didn’t think it was relevant, but to each their own. Although I do not include them in my portfolio I make sure to keep copies because some HR and occupational health will require this paper work for the hiring process.

STORAGE

I keep all my original documents in a binder and I use presentation sleeves for each document. I do this to help maintain the integrity of the documents in case I need to show proof of originals to employers, HR, or anyone else who needs them. I also make sure to scan all the documents and keep copies in my google drive, flash drive, desktop, and I even email them to myself. Some how if the paper copies get destroyed or if I lose my flash drive or of my computer dies Ill have copies in my google drive and email. Pretty much be prepared for anything because you never know if anything will be lost or destroyed.

BINDING

There are various ways to bind this portfolio together. At Staples they have presentation binders where they will bind the documents together with glossy front, vinyl back, and a coil to put them together. At Staples they also have clear front report covers where you can just stick them in there without having to wait a day or couple of hours to put it together. I personally like the look of the coiled presentation book because it shows you took time before the interview to go to the store and have it bound. Again it really depends on the amount of time you have to prepare and also the finances. It is cheaper to get the clear front report covers and more convenient, but the coiled presentation books look more professional and put together. Again it really depends on what you’re willing to do and how much money you’re willing to invest.

These are the links to the Staples website:

Clear Front Report Cover: https://www.staples.com/Report-Covers/cat_CL130501

Coiled Presentation Books: https://www.staples.com/sbd/content/copyandprint/presentations.html

TABBED DIVIDERS

I personally like to include tabbed dividers in my portfolio. I believe the tabbed dividers really nicely organize the documents because without it they can kind of get jumbled up together. Along with the tabs I also put the table of contents to make it more organized. I usually do the 5 tabbed dividers and divide it like this:

Tab 1 - Introduction

Cover Letter

Resume

Personal Statement

Tab 2 - Certifications

Diploma

Unofficial Transcripts

RN Certification

Certifications

Tab 3 - Letters of Recommendation/Letters of Reference

Tab 4 - Awards and Extracurricular Activities

Tab 5 - Presentations

Tabbed Dividers Link: https://www.staples.com/Avery-Ready-Index-Multicolor-Table-of-Contents-Dividers-6-Sets-Pack/product_SS1098276

Hopefully this was helpful to you. I know this is a long post to read but I believe with the right attitude, effort, and time management your portfolio will impress prospective employers and help you in getting the job.

Thanks again. Until next time (:

[erinravenseekerarts]

This is the Deal You Made

HEY LOOK I ACTUALLY POST SOMETHING

Alright so this is a Miraculous Ladybug fic I wrote partly inspired by this chapter in seasonofthegeek’s awesome One Hundred MORE Miraculous Drabbles. Also inspired by that one bit in JelloApocalypse's So This is Basically Miraculous Ladybug when he says "ladybubs has the power to be lucky, and catnerd has the power to kill anything he touches."

Also disclaimer don’t trust my science. Yes, I actually do have a degree. In bullshitting.

So yeah this happened. Read on my AO3 or under the cut.

Post on the Ladyblog, Today at 11:03pm.

victory once again!

theLadyblogger another akuma beat by ladybug and chat noir! you two are awesome!! ladybug totes beat ass back ther like omg ur the best herere the snaps i got frm the fight bros attachment: heckyes.pptx but srsly its like 11pm cn hwkmoth plz just take a brkkkkk alredy????

Comments on; victory once again!

cookietime at 11:10pm ladybug isn’t the best, she’s useless without chat noir

curiositykilledthechat at 11:13pm What do you mean? I disagree.

cookietime at 11:14pm i mean ladybug would probably be dead by now if it werent for chat noir

curiositykilledthechat at 11:16pm Don’t say that! Ladybug is definitely capable of taking all these akumas on her own, you know.

cookietime at 11:17pm shes literally cannon fodder w/out chat what are you talking about. i stand by my previous claim shes naive and shed already be dead

curiositykilledthechat at 11:18pm That’s a lie! Ladybug is intelligent, beautiful, and she works incredibly hard to keep the city safe every night! That’s more than many people in Paris can do.

cookietime at 11:20pm whatever. she wouldve died tonight if it werent for chat noir. dont even try to convince me otherwise.

theLadyblogger at 11:21pm the heck is goin on here!?!??!!?!?!!1?!?? this is blASPHEMY

Marinette didn’t even dare to look at the next response, closing the tab. Of course Alya had to arrive then. Marinette’s honestly surprised she hasn’t been banned yet for all the times she’s ‘blasphemed’ or whatever about Ladybug. Maybe that’s just her best friend privileges speaking.

Her phone buzzes. Probably Alya. She doesn’t even care right now, flopping back onto her bed, pulling a pillow over her head, and screaming into it. She’s so tired, it’s one of those days, and she just can’t handle it right now. Not with the late-night akuma attack, with her friends throwing praise at her alter ego all the time, not when she really doesn’t deserve it. Sometimes it’s fun, but on days like this she only fights because she’s the only one who can.

She doesn’t move as the trapdoor above her bed squeaks a little, as a small gust of the chilly night air outside puffs into the room, as a weight lands and makes itself comfortable on her bed. She feels like if she lifts the pillow off her head she’ll scream or sob and she can’t do it. Not when he’s come to visit her on a night like this. He didn’t have to argue with her online, he didn’t have to break out at almost midnight, and he certainly didn’t have to jump rooftops in the cold just to make sure she would be okay.

Marinette resists the urge to punch something, probably herself, as slivers of green light filter past her shut eyelids. She can hear Plagg muttering and the sound of a drawer opening, likely the small cat getting at the camembert she always keeps there for him. When she feels the pillow being pulled at a little, she only holds it tighter.

“Mari,” Adrien says quietly, and she lets out a sob. She’s shaking, she knows, and he scoops her up into his arms as she cries and her pillow leaves her face and all she can do is latch onto him. Either one of them could’ve died tonight and it’s just so hard to think straight and here she is, breaking down when she really shouldn’t and it’s just so difficult to keep going on like everything is normal when it really isn’t. She can’t go to school tomorrow, and she has no doubt Adrien would just stay here and play games with her for the whole day if she didn’t force him to go.

“It’s okay,” he shushes, and she knows she can hear Tikki and Plagg talking in the background but all she can focus on is how tight her grip on the front of Adrien’s shirt is because if she lets her mind any further than what is immediately in front of her she’ll snap completely. “We’re okay.” She ignores the buzzing of her phone by her leg. Alya’s either mad, or worried, or both, but she can’t care right now.

It seems like ages before Marinette's able to pull away just a little, forcing her breathing to even. Adrien still won’t budge, keeping her in a close hug. God knows she needs it.

“You didn’t have to come,” she says eventually, body completely under control once again. She pulls away. “I’ll have been fine eventually.”

“Nonsense, bug. What kind of partner would I be then?” he gives her an empathetic smile. “Besides, we both have our days. At least I can be here for you.”

More tears are going down Marinette’s cheeks but now she’s smiling faintly. She’s pulled back into the hug and honestly, there’s nothing else she wants right now.

If the next day is spent napping and cuddling and playing video games and definitely not at school, who’s to judge?

Breathing is hard.

Skeletal muscles attach to bones and move according to messages from the nervous system. One such muscle is the diaphragm, the muscle that facilitates the breathing process by expanding and contracting the space inside of the lungs, creating a vacuum that is quickly replaced by air via the bronchial tubes.

Moving is hard.

Fatigue slows the central nervous system, causing difficulties in reaction time and movement speed. As muscles typically involved in all types of movement are skeletal muscles, they rely on the central nervous system to pilot them.

Keeping one’s tired heart together is hard.

Scientifically speaking, hearts themselves cannot break. They aren’t made of a brittle substance, they are muscle. However hearts, unlike other muscles, cannot tire. They consist of a special muscle called cardiac muscle, which contains up to 35% mitochondria, supplying the heart with a nigh-limitless amount of energy. While the heart does not tire naturally, it isn’t impossible for it to tire. By the point that it does, serious damage has already been done to the fibres.

The bright screen hurts his eyes in the darkness of his room. His hands are shaking. Plagg is asleep. He doesn’t want to wake the exhausted kwami. The Ladyblog is open on his computer and he can’t keep writing. Alya’s probably pissed.

curiositykilledthechat at 9:47pm Chat Noir doesn’t even do anything useful.

theLadyblogger at 9:51pm wat the heck u talkin about?!??!?!?????

curiositykilledthechat at 9:53pm I mean, Ladybug always carries the fights. She’s the one who always fixes everything.

cookietime at 9:54pm that doesn’t mean chat noir isn’t helpful!

theLadyblogger at 9:54pm chat noir protects ladybug and makes it so she can fix everythin tho!!!

curiositykilledthechat at 9:56pm All he does is destroy things and put people in danger.

Adrien's vision is blurry. When did he start crying? He can’t read the messages on the Ladyblog. It probably doesn’t matter. His phone buzzes. Several times. Then it rings. He doesn’t pick it up, doesn’t move from his spot in the chair at his desk. When a cold gust of wind hits him he faintly thinks When did my window open? before two arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. Ah. Then. The window is always unlocked anyway. His hand grips the arms tightly, and he doesn’t protest when they urge him up and move him over to the couch to sit down. He still doesn’t look. There’s a flash of pink light as the window is shut, then footsteps make their way to him.

“Shhhhh, it’s alright,” Marinette sits down beside him and pulls him into a hug. She runs her hands through his hair as he silently struggles to control his breathing. He’s leaning heavily on her, but she doesn’t complain. He’s always leaning on her, always being a burden, always messing things up and endangering her and being controlled and destroying everything.

“Quiet now, kitty,” she whispers as he opens his mouth to say something, anything, and he buries his face further into her shoulder. His hands are shaking but he’s stopped crying now, at least.

“All I do is destroy things,” he gets out meekly after a few minutes. Marinette hums.

“What about us? You’re always saving me. You were the one to ask me out,” she replies gently.

“I’m scared,” he’s almost whispering now. “I have the power to destroy everything I touch. I do destroy everything I touch.” It’s barely audible now. “What if I destroy someone?”

“I’ll know you never meant to,” comes the steady reply. He knew that would be the answer. He just can’t believe Marinette would trust him so deeply and entirely. Because it’s happened before, that he’s tried to use Cataclysm on a person. She told him so; he’d pulled it on her during the Dark Cupid incident. He feels sick. The power to destroy whatever he touches, to kill people so easily, is terrifying to wield. He feels like he shouldn’t have this responsibility, no matter what Plagg or Tikki say. He can’t trust himself enough.

They spend a little longer in silence until Adrien is almost falling asleep on Marinette’s shoulder, calmed and purring quietly. Side effects of being Chat Noir. She eventually huffs and nudges him up.

“Come on, sleepy kitty, we have a test tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep too.” Adrien protests faintly as she leaves. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Is that okay?”

Adrien nods. “Yes. I’m okay.”

Alya and Nino are worried about their friends, sure. Sometimes the happiness seems forced, too-wide smiles and very quick "i’m fine"s followed by a change in subject. They’re better around each other, though. Marinette is less frantic when near Adrien, and Alya suspects she’s just acting all flustered and stuff now. Adrien seems less tense around Marinette, more comfortable in his own skin.

Alya and Nino know they aren’t part of whatever seems to be going on in their best friends’ lives. They know no matter how much they wish they could change the circumstances, know and be part of it, it’s something they can’t be privy to.

Whatever’s wrong, they’re glad those two have each other.

End.

[genuivity]

Rule of Thirds | Oneshot by genuivity  | READ ON:  ao3 

Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice Pairing(s): Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki (victuuri) Story Rating: General Audiences Genres/Tags: photographer/model au, photographer!yuuri, model!victor

(For #victuuriweek2017 - day 1: firsts, au prompt: other sports/careers)

Victor sent the camera a smirk, taunting, seductive, come and get me, and it hit Yuuri like a punch in the face. He clicked the camera a few more times than necessary, partly to hide his own blush but mostly because he was so caught off guard. There were too many attractive men in this industry. He wasn’t cut out for this. Victor winked at him, and yeah, Yuuri thought, he should’ve gone into nature photography.

Three months. Massimo Magazine spent three months planning the photoshoot with Victor Nikiforov, a world-renowned supermodel. Meanwhile, Yuuri Katsuki, professional photographer and avid Victor fan, spent the same amount of time both anticipating and dreading it.

A model of Victor Nikiforov’s caliber called for the best they could offer. He had everything a model needed: charm, poise, grace, confidence. Not to mention his natural good looks and experience. How their up-and-coming L.A.-based magazine already managed to book such a sought-after name in the modeling world sounded like a lot more negotiations, finances, and luck than Yuuri was willing to think about.  But more importantly, Victor Nikiforov was Massimo Magazine’s chance to gain more national, maybe even international, traction. This shoot was a make-or-break deal for recognition, and Yuuri would be damned if he broke it because he couldn’t keep it together in front of the object of his affections.

The setup began at five in the morning, the actual shoot at seven, because one, Victor was a busy man (his agent’s words), two, he needed time to play with his dog later (Victor’s words), and three, he apparently didn’t mind getting up at the asscrack of dawn (Yuri the intern’s words). The staff was to wait on his hand and foot, to treat him like a king. They certainly dressed him like one. He wore a large fuchsia overcoat, embellished with black cuffs and lapels and accented with gold trim. Under that was a white dress shirt and black slim-fit pants. Gold buttons and chains adorned the outfit, and gold piercings decorated the shells of his ears. They decorated the set modestly with white, magenta, and sky blue roses, letting Victor take center stage.

And he did. He commanded their attention, elegant and artful. With each passing moment, it became more difficult for Yuuri to keep his composure.  The opportunity was just as anxiety-inducing as he imagined. Just being in the same room as him was enough to make his palms sweat, and the looks he gave the camera only made it worse.

At least the noise was bearable. The only sounds were camera flashes and the photoshoot director’s voice as he gave instructions. And that was all fine and good, until the director said, “Victor, could you take off the coat and unbutton the first few buttons?”

Victor smiled, nodded, and did as he was told while Yuuri both sincerely thanked and fervently cursed the director. To flush at the sight of collarbones, collarbones, for heaven’s sake, Yuuri felt like he was back in his teen years.

Yuuri hoped no one had noticed how flustered he was, especially not Victor, and just like that the universe told him to screw off.

Victor sent the camera a smirk, taunting, seductive, come and get me, and it hit Yuuri like a punch in the face. He clicked the camera a few more times than necessary, partly to hide his own blush but mostly because he was so caught off guard. There were too many attractive men in this industry. He wasn’t cut out for this. Victor winked at him, and yeah, Yuuri thought, he should’ve gone into nature photography.

***

Three hours later, Yuuri was loading and editing images from the shoot onto his computer.

Sometimes, the model or client might join him for the editing process to give their input and decide what they need to do moving forward.

This was one of those times.

“Oh, that one has great lighting,” Victor said. He was at his side, leaning forward onto the desk with one hand on the table and the other behind Yuuri’s chair.

Yuuri kept his eyes on the screen, barely nodding to acknowledge what he said. His hand on the mouse shook, and Yuuri prayed Victor didn’t notice the cursor wobbling as well. He added basic adjustments, experimenting and modifying to keep himself from losing his mind in front of, in Yuuri’s humble opinion, the most gorgeous guy in the world.

Yuuri added a new adjustment, and Victor hummed. “Mm, I’m not sure how I feel about that filter. Also, can I have your number?”

Yuuri toggled the layer on and off. He thought it looked fine, it heightened the shadows, brightened the lights, drew attention to the angles of Victor’s face. Victor was a world-class model, not a world-class editor, and sure, Yuuri would probably drop everything in an instant to marry him, but he did not get a college degree to get schooled by—Wait.

“Wait.” Yuuri blinked up at him. “What?”

Victor leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes still trained on the screen. “Sorry. That was unprofessional of me. The filter looks good.”

Forget the filter. If Yuuri’s ears didn’t deceive him, there were more important matters. “It’s okay, but, sorry, I just- I didn’t catch that last part?” His voice grew quiet and rose at the end as he spoke.

He tapped his lips. “Ah, I asked for your number. But that was unprofessional too…”

Yuuri looked at Victor like he had grown a second head. His number? As in, the number to his personal phone? The one he used for texting and Instagram and saving pictures of Victor? No way. Surely he meant—

“I can... give you my business card?” He mumbled through it, unsure of what to say.

Victor looked thoughtful, pressing a finger to his chin. “Actually, that works for me.”

Oh. So he had meant business. He stood and fished out a card from his wallet, clumsy and graceless and shaking, much to his own horror, and handed it to him. He couldn’t muster up enough composure to look him in the eyes, so he stared at the Victor on the screen. As if that was any better; the Victor on the screen wore a roguish grin and sly eyes, exuding confidence in a resplendent outfit. He glanced back at the Victor before him, and it was the same person in the same clothes, but the expression was completely different.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” he read, tone mild. He looked at him with a small smile on his lips, eyes gentle and head tilted. “Did I pronounce that right?”

Wide-eyed, Yuuri looked up at Victor, with his soft smile and kind gaze, and found himself returning the expression. “Yes.”

Victor paused a moment, then said, “Great! Now, do you have a pen?”

“Oh, here.” Not thinking anything of it, he handed him one.

“Thank you,” he said, putting the card on the table and writing on the back. To Yuuri’s shock, he slid the card back to him with a wink.

“I must go, but it was very nice meeting you, Yuuri. Call me, okay?” And with that, he left, taking all of Yuuri’s presence of mind with him. The second Victor exited the room, he dived onto the card.

Written in quick, messy penmanship, was a phone number, followed by a winking face.

***

Three days had gone by, but Yuuri found himself still in the same sense of disbelief.

He was at a crossroads. Should he call the number? What if Victor had given him the wrong number? What if Victor had given him a prank number? And even if he did call, what would he say? What did Victor even want with him?

When he told Phichit, makeup artist and certified best friend, about it, he had jumped at the chance, taking Yuuri by the shoulders and shaking him. “You have to call him, you have to.” He made Yuuri look into his dark gray eyes. “It’s your duty, to your past self and future self and everyone who would kill to get his number. Including me.”

Meanwhile, after Yuri the intern demanded to know what had gotten into him these past few days, he was met with a disgusted look. “Block the number,” he had said. “Burn the card. Change your name, become a pig farmer in some remote, off the grid corner of who-cares-where.”

Conflicting advice, see. Granted, Yuri was probably joking, though his deadpan snark made it hard to tell. Either way, Yuuri was seriously considering it.

But after enough days of it eating up at him and much reassurance on Phichit’s part that no, Victor was not out to dupe him, but yes, he found him cute enough to give him his number, he decided to text him. He hoped for both possibilities, that Victor’s phone either could or couldn’t receive text. If it didn’t, at least he could say he tried.

When two days passed without a response, Yuuri was ready to drop it. He had spent an inordinate amount of time reading over the texts he sent, the first a simple, ‘Hello, Victor? It’s Yuuri’, the second saying, ‘The fashion photographer’, and the third saying, ‘If I have the wrong number please ignore this’. Phichit told him he sounded too impersonal, but Yuuri thought he was really putting himself out there. He even triple-texted.

When the third day came around, Yuuri received a picture from the contact he had labeled ‘Victor(?)’. He opened it, and a large, brown poodle filled the screen, looking at the camera with its tongue out.

It was followed by a text. ‘Look how happy my dog is! I’m happy too!!’

***

Three months had passed, and while Yuuri’s disbelief had died down, it was quickly replaced by a warm feeling in his chest and a bigger phone bill.

Victor and Yuuri texted often, almost daily. Victor was adamant about getting to know him, and his candid interest and natural flirtatiousness eventually got Yuuri to open up. It also helped that he sent pictures often, mostly of his dog Makkachin, but occasionally scenery or a set he was on, and once a blurry selfie he thought was artsy but too messy for Instagram. Yuuri melted. He didn’t stand a chance.

One day, Yuuri was woken up by a text at three in the morning, but its contents had shocked him into full alertness: ‘I’m going to LA in a few weeks, can I see you?’

The prospect of seeing Victor again made his fingers shake as he typed. ‘Sure, where/when?’ He thanked texting as a medium for making him sound much more collected than he really was.

They worked out a meeting at a frozen yogurt place close to where Victor had a photo session. Victor closed it out with, ‘It’s a date! <3’, and going back to sleep was a lost cause.

***

Three weeks later, they were eating frozen yogurt and hiding in a shopping mall from the bright L.A. sun.

“When I first saw you,” Victor said, taking a bite of yogurt. “I thought I was modeling with you. Really, I think you should be in front of the camera.”

Yuuri blinked at him. “I-I think you should start wearing my glasses.” There was no way he thought that. Not a chance. The day they met, Victor looked like royalty, while Yuuri looked like a raccoon who woke up on the wrong side of the dumpster.

“You underestimate yourself, Yuuri. I bet I can teach you to be a great model.” Victor said, smug.

“Or, I can teach you photography.” Two could play at this game.

“Hm, I might take you up on that.” Victor laughed. “I don’t know much about photography, but I think I can already picture us together.”

Yuuri gawked at him, bashful, and lightly hit him on the shoulder. “That was… Wow. Where did you even get that one?”

“I’m just that smooth.” After Yuuri gave him a disbelieving look, Victor said, “Google. Look up ‘pick-up lines for photographers.’”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Victor grinned. “So are you. You know, a picture is worth a thousand words, but there are no words for a picture as beautiful as you.”

Yuuri swore his frozen yogurt tasted like mozzarella, it was so cheesy. His blush deepened, and it was a while before he could think of a response. “Yeah, well, are you a model?” He started off, not able to meet his eyes. “Because you’re… super?”

He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. That was so pathetic, it made Victor’s lines sound great in comparison. But Victor didn’t seem to have the same reaction; he let out a laugh and wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Would you believe that I am a model?” His voice was elated now. “And you must be a camera, because every time I look at you, I smile.”

Okay, two could not play at this game. Google gave him too much power. “I give up.”

“Oh, it’s alright. Because now,” Victor pulled out his phone, “you’ll have to let me take a picture of us.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one taking the photos?”

“Think of it as your first lesson to me, then. How do I take a good selfie?”

They sat on a bench in the mall, posing for pictures, most ending up out of focus as Victor’s arm shook from laughter and delight. Yuuri took Victor’s phone at once and snapped the perfect image: he’s resting his head on Victor’s shoulder, hair pushed back, cheeks dusted pink, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Victor’s head is tilted against Yuuri’s, blue eyes crinkled up in a genuine smile.

Yuuri watched as Victor, fond and endearing, made the picture his phone background.

***

Three years passed since they met, and Yuuri had another photoshoot with Victor.

Though this time, as Victor had said, Yuuri was with him in front of the camera. They were outdoors, surrounded by white, magenta, and sky blue roses. They faced each other in black tailored suits, holding hands that featured matching gold rings.

The wedding photographer was quiet as he snapped photos of the couple, the sounds that filled the air a serene mix of birds singing, wind blowing, and camera clicking.

Yuuri leaned up to touch their foreheads together, noses brushing, and they smiled.

[ecotone99]

Quarantine got me writing stories, all criticism welcome for improvements

“You can bail whenever you want. But you can’t say anything to anyone.” Trey grabbed my shirt after saying anyone, and brought me close to his face to show that he was serious. I could see sweat slowly forming on his forehead and blackheads on his nose he normally doesn’t have, because his face is probably the cleanest out of all of us. But because of Marcus, he has been so stressed he hasn’t showered in two days. Marcus started all of this. He snitched on Craig because the police pulled up to our block. They were searching for Craig, and Marcus told them that he normally stays at his grandma’s. So the feds went to the house, and shot his grandma for pulling out her phone to call Craig and ask what’s happening. They never found him though, because he was in Mexico.

But he had to find out she died from me, and it was the hardest thing to say. So when Craig came back from Mexico, he came packing heat. I’m sitting with Trey in the back, and Craig was driving. I held tightly to my glock 9mm. Trey tucked his m1911 pistol into his pants, and pulled his mask out of the bag. “I’m not going to leave,” I told Trey while he put his mask in his pocket and put the bag next to him. “Marcus messed up, and Craig’s grandma was always there for us, and he snitched. So if y’all are punishing him, I’m joining.”

Craig laughed in the driver's seat and looked at me through the rear view mirror. “That’s the spirit cuz!” I smiled, but realized we were here, so I removed the smile. The good thing about Marcus is that he works at a bank. So that’s where we are. We’re going to rob the place, and catch him at his job, and Craig will do what he needs to. I went in the bag and pulled my mask out. My mask was all black with white blocks placed around on it. I put my glock in my pants, and got out of the car when Trey and Craig did. We were parked in the back, and we knew there was a camera, but it was just to scare people. Trey checked, and saw that the camera isn’t even hooked up. I slid my mask over my face and felt my hair flatten out. Craig and Trey did the same, and Craig got his gun. He had his uncle’s FN PS90 strapped across his chest, and he tossed us three clips of ammo for our guns, and Trey took the bag out of the car. Craig turned the safety off on his gun, and nodded at us. “Remember, no civilians, just security and Marcus,” Craig said, unlocking his car door so that we have an easy escape. Trey and I nodded, and we went to the door in the back of the bank. “On three,” Trey said. I counted in my mind, and before I knew it the door swung open and we were running in. The door leads to behind the glass where the workers sit on computers and give people the money they asked for. Our plan was to kill the one that would obviously ring the alarm, which is always secretly a security guard.

At least that’s what Craig said. I was behind Trey and Craig, and I saw the workers look over at the door. It took them a second for their mind to understand what was happening, and they all screamed. Sure enough, one of them ran over to the alarm. Craig shot in a quick burst, and the guard dropped to the floor instantly, blood staining the grey carpet. Craig ran in, and we followed. Trey ran out to the main waiting area where all the civilians were at. He was shouting and telling them to lay down or he would shoot. Craig was screaming at the workers asking where Marcus was. Trey threw the bag at me, and I picked it up. The door that held the money was right next to the dead body. I walked past him, and shot the door’s handle until it broke off, then pushed the door open. There were about three dozen steel cabinets, and I ran over to them. They slid open, and I was just dumping money in the bag. This was going very well. Once I emptied the cabinets, I heard a louder gunshot. It sounded like a shotgun. Maybe Craig really brought some heavy gun power.

I stepped out of the room, and I saw Craig laying on the carpet, and I saw his stomach caved in. His head was tilted back, and he was looking at me with tears in his eyes. I looked at the person that shot him, and saw Marcus standing above Craig. He looked over at me, and realized who I was. “Jackson, why are you here?” He was in awe. I pulled my gun out, and pointed it at Marcus. “Woah, calm down dude.”

“Drop your gun.” I said, trying to sound as tough as I could. Marcus lowered the shotgun, and kicked it to me. “Jackson, just take the money and leave. I know you still have a heart. Please.” I started to sweat. Should I just leave? “Remember when we were kids? We used to play kickball like every week. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” My heart was thumping. Then I heard Marcus yell something, but I couldn’t really tell what he said once the bullet hit my neck. It was something like, “Not yet,” or something along those lines. The bullet burned inside my neck, but it didn’t hurt as bad as my shoulder did. The bullet hit a good part of my shoulder, then bumped upward towards my neck, and stopped halfway in my throat. I dropped to the floor, and slid onto the floor. I was instantly choking on my own blood, and I knew I had to get medical attention. But within three seconds, I could tell I wasn’t gonna make it.

My vision started to get blurry, and I could just barely hear Trey and Marcus talking. “Trey! You...kill him...I said his leg...He didn’t need to die...only Craig.” Now I knew why Trey was so stressed. He must have been worried about killing us. But I don’t want to think about that anymore. I started feeling tired. I closed my eyes. I just want to rest until the ambulance comes. Just...rest.

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