#again no real clue my brain’s fried here

[line-of-fire]

Someone tell me not to make an oc to be Pixies CIA handler bc god am I so fucking close to doing just that

[yoongihan]

Catalyst - HHJ - 3/3

Banner by the sweet @hannahbee12719

pairing: hyunjin x reader (female, last name is park), minho x somi; the rest of skz makes appearances, as does sunmi, woodz, & yena. bobby.

genre: mafia au, childhood friends->lovers->exes->lovers

rating: M 🔞

word count: 9k

warnings: smut (vanilla sex here people), two whole scenes of smut, there be kissing, touching; cursing; a fair amount violence (mostly off-screen) and death (no one that the audience would care about) and not very detailed in description, guns. I think that’s it. My brain is fried, so let me know if I haven’t covered something.

a/n: i’m not sure if this is actually finished or if i’m just over working on it. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I hope the conclusion to this is satisfactory. i’m grateful to @jl-micasea-fics​ for being so encouraging. this is probably the most violent story i’ve ever written, which isn’t relevant at all, but kind of feels like some sort of accomplishment for little ole me. all that rambling to say, thank you for reading. feel free to let me know what you think. i’m not too proud to say that i most definitely need to validation. :D

part one  part two  masterlist

Catalyst: Three of Three

���I wanna sell Circus.”

His hands freeze and already you miss the comfort. “What?”

You swallow and meet his shocked eyes head-on. “I want to sell the club.”

He lets go of you and stands, walking away.

“I have an interested buyer, but I thought you might want to buy me out before I spoke with him.” You feel like you’re rambling.

He doesn’t say anything.

“I promise this isn’t an impulsive thing…I’ve thought–”

“The club is yours.” He keeps his back to you. “More than mine.”

You sigh, wishing you could see his face so you’d have a clue as to what he’s thinking. “It’s the Syndicate’s, more than either of us.”

It goes quiet again. You notice that your leg is shaking, a sure sign of your nerves. You know this is the right decision, but telling him…you don’t know what you expect.

Perhaps you want him to fight for the club…for you.

He turns slightly. “Are you going to…” He clears his throat. “What are you going to do?”

“Move. Start somewhere new.” That you haven’t said aloud yet. It sounds so strange. Almost not real.

“Shit.”

What does that mean?

“I haven’t spoken to Minho about this yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

You watch his back, stiff and unmoving; the tension radiates from him.

“Where would you go?”

“Someplace less…city. Maybe a bit warmer. I’m not sure. I’m looking at properties in a variety of locations. Or I might go back to school.”

“Fuck.” He turns completely, anger etching his face. “I can’t…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I have to check the front.” And he stalks out.

You sit there a few more seconds before getting up and leaving.

—

It’s two days later and you’re in the office finishing up a few things, going over and over the accounts to make sure that everything is without error. You stretch your arms toward the ceiling, hearing a few pops that are so satisfying.

Yes, some of it still hurts, but you don’t feel quite so broken anymore.

“Are you heading out?”

You hadn’t heard him at the door. You haven’t seen Hyunjin since your announcement to sell. There’s evidence that he has been at the club (a jacket left, mail sifted through, half a bottle of water that isn’t yours), but as for actual interaction, this is the first since.

And you’re nervous.

His voice is lower, but not in a sexy way (yes, it’s sexy, but this is Hyunjin. He breathes and you’ve found that sexy). It’s just kind of dismal. A voice without any strong emotion in it at all.

“Yes. In a few.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your head shoots up at the non-question. “Excuse me?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck. Not like that. I mean, I’ll make sure you get home okay.” One hand runs through his hair as he takes a few more steps into the office.

“Am I incapable of doing so on my own?”

There is another heavy sigh. “I don’t know if Bobby knows where you live, gongjunim. I don’t know if he might decide to seek you out too. I don’t know, but I’d rather have you snarky and annoyed at me and safe from him than–” He doesn’t finish the thought. He doesn’t really need to.

He plops down on the couch. You try to go back to your paperwork review, but you can’t help but look at him.

Stunning as always, but his features are marred with traces of fatigue.

“You sleeping okay?’

He lifts his eyes from the floor to you. “Lee’s a bit fixated right now.”

You hear a lot in that one sentence. Minho is pushing his men to finish out this thing with Bobby, that the threat on Somi and now you have made the situation far more urgent.

“Sorry.”

He scoffs. “None of that is your fault, gongjunim. Nor is it Somi’s.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I hope he burns in hell.”

Hyunjin isn’t aggressive. Not in the entire lifetime you’ve known him. Even when he hates someone, he jokes about it. He rarely shows how deep his distaste goes.

Wishing Bobby a fiery afterlife shows how incredibly angry he is.

“We can go.”

When he stands at the passenger door of your car, you ask. “How are you getting back here to sleep?”

He raises one eyebrow. “I’m sleeping on your couch.”

With a huff, you unlock the doors and slide into the driver's seat. He gets in beside you.

“Glad you asked.”

“Would you rather me stand outside your door all night like Yang did last night? Or Han the night before?”

You knew they'd been there. You had hoped that you were just overthinking the presence, especially since you’d been stuck inside.

“Maybe.” You pulled onto the road that ran in front of the club. You glanced at the sign, wondering if Circus would retain its name or if a new owner would completely redo everything you’d done for the last five years.

“I wouldn’t stand,” he says. “That’s too much. I’d sit all night.”

You try not to smile at his melodramatic words before glancing over. He’s got his eyes closed, arms crossed and his head is dipping as though he’ll fall asleep any second.

“Some bodyguard.”

“Fuck off.” The words themselves are harsh, but his sleepy tone and humor soften them.

Since his eyes are closed, you let yourself smile.

You realize when you set a pillow and a second blanket on the couch that Hyunjin has never been in your apartment alone with you. He’d been once when you’d attempted a housewarming/birthday party for yourself that mostly had Chan drinking Jisung under the table, Minho perusing and judging your vinyl collection, and Hyunjin being flirted with by every Park girl there.

Hyunjin is currently staring at a small painting you bought at a city festival years ago. A local artist, who specialized in capturing scenes of everyday Busan life.

“I met her once,” Hyunjin says, shocking you out of your memories.

“Who?”

He points to the signature on the print (you couldn’t and still can’t afford an original art piece). “Her.”

“You met her?”

“She was giving a class I decided to take.” He shrugs. “I like how she focuses on one detail and the rest is kind of fuzzy and hazy.”

“Yeah.”

He turns back to you and it’s that stupid quiet that sometimes falls between him and you. You shake yourself as though that will help.

“Do you think you need anything else?” You gesture at the couch. “I’ll pull out an extra toothbrush and you can use my facewash or whatever–”

“I’m good.”

He approaches you and takes the third blanket out of your hands.

“Thanks.”

“I suppose I should thank you for attempting bodyguard duty. Not that it’s needed.”

He half-smiles. “Sure thing, gongjunim,” he says before reaching out to chuck you under the chin. You slap his hand away, not hard. He shakes his hand out but is grinning.

“Go to sleep.”

“Night beautiful.”

You flip him off on your way to your bedroom, smiling at nothing when he laughs.

You hear him moving around hours later. You’re not used to extra noise in your apartment. Living alone was a luxury you did not take for granted after college roommates.

You shuffle out into your living area to see Hyunjin leaning against the kitchen counter, typing something out on his phone.

“Hwang?”

He jolts at your voice, flipping his phone so its screen is down.

His face is blank, but the blankness is what worries you.

“What is it?”

“Just a routine check-in.”

Bullshit.

“Don’t lie to me.” You walk quickly over to him, about to steal his phone, but he raises it above his head which is undoubtedly out of your arm's reach. “I’m not one of your stupid civilians, pabo.”

His eyes narrow at the insult.

“It’s my–”

His hand is over your mouth before you can finish your tirade. You are about to bite his palm because what an ass, when he moves close so he can speak into your ear.

“We’ve got visitors.”

All thoughts of how annoying he is go out the window. You nod as he removes his hand and gestures for you to head back toward your bedroom. You walk carefully, trying not to make any noise, feeling the heat of him right behind you. He quickly shuts your bedroom door after you both enter before dropping his head down to whisper:

“Gun?”

“Under the bed.” You answer immediately then pause as he goes to find it. “You don’t have yours?” You’re pretty sure every member of the Syndicate went about life armed.

He shakes his head when he pulls out the lockbox. He raises an eyebrow at you for the code.

It’s weird, right? That you don’t hesitate in giving him secrets.

“I left mine at the loft,” he explains quietly. “Just thought I was being paranoid about you, not that they’d actually…” he trails off when you both hear the front doorknob creak and rattle. He gets out your gun and loads it with the ease of someone who has done so many many times. He points with it to your bed.

You shake your head; you are not hiding under the bed like a child afraid of monsters. He then points to your closet.

You glare at him.

He stalks over to you as you both hear the door bust open. He shoves his phone in your hand and then pushes you into the closet.

“Brace the door,” he mutters. “Call Seo.”

When the first gunshot rings out, you find yourself curled up in the back corner of the tiny space, his phone to your ear. When Changbin answers with a typical ‘what’s up, asshole’ you realize that you won’t be able to speak without your voice shaking.

You’re crying.

You count the gunshots, knowing that your gun has only fifteen to keep Hyunjin safe. It’s loud, so loud but dead silent in between ear-splitting cracks if there is a lull. You lose count and though Changbin is telling you that he’s on his way in the calmest, most comforting voice, you don’t think you’re breathing.

You can’t breathe.

More people have entered your apartment; there are voices, distorted and angry. Taunting and threatening and you don’t recognize any of them.

Is he okay? How would you ever know if you’re stuck in here?

Shot after shot after shot.

Then, it goes silent.

You hold your breath, listening for voices, footsteps, anything to tell you what is going on outside of your closet.

The doorknob jiggles.

“It’s okay,” comes the voice. “It’s me.” Chan’s voice is rough like he’s lost it after spending all night screaming at a concert. He says your name. “It’s safe.”

You swallow hard. “Is Hyunjin–”

“He’s fine, little Park. Come out of there. Cops’ll be here soon and we need a good story.”

It’s hard for you to stand. Your legs are horribly weak and like jello. You remove the small chair you’d braced under the knob and carefully open the door. Chan smiles at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. And Chan always smiles with his eyes.

“Where is he?” you demand, before moving past the bodyguard, your legs less wobbly.

“Wait!”

You’ve never listened well.

But then you can’t move.

Oh god, the bodies.

There are four dead men in your living area and kitchen. You can count them and yet it feels like a dozen. You see several syndicate members moving around, checking the bodies. Yang is covering up the one in your kitchen…you can only see feet and legs.

“Hyunjin?”

There’s movement in the corner of your eye and you see Hyunjin turn toward you. He’s seated on one of your barstools, body facing Han who is blotting his arm.

“Were you hit?” You nearly trip over something in your effort to get to him. You look down to see the obstacle.

The obstacle is a dead body, and it takes all of your focus. Lifeless eyes, clotting blood.

“Gongjunim.” You barely hear it. There’s a dead man on the floor of your apartment. Several dead men who will no longer breathe, eat, fuck, or laugh again.

“Hey,” the soft voice again. You look up to see Hyunjin standing a few feet away. The sleeve of his shirt is gone and his upper arm is wrapped with the same fabric.

“You got hit.”

He waves you to come closer and you do, trying not to look down closely, only aware enough to avoid tripping again. Your hand grasps his, and he pulls you close.

“I’m okay.” He nudges your forehead gently with his chin. “I’m fine.”

“You’re shot,” you say stubbornly, hyper-aware that you are hugging him in front of the rest of the Syndicate which has never happened.

You don’t know if you care or not.

“It’s a clean shot. Just some muscle, no bones. I’ll be fine.” His hurt arm rests against your side.

“Seo will be here soon. This is just a case of breaking and entering. Hwang protecting you.” Minho sidesteps the bodies. “Or maybe Chan and Hwang?”

“Seems more likely to have two against four with these results.”

You can hear their voices, but you just keep your face hidden in his chest.

“Makes sense,” Chan says. He’s somewhere behind you.

Minho says your name, so you peek out to meet his sharp eyes.

“You’re not staying here, obviously. Do you want to stay with Somi at mine?”

Hyunjin’s uninjured arm tightens around you, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I, I guess.”

“Or do you want to stay elsewhere?”

Minho is the master of the vacant expression, which is why when he looks outright amused and a bit smug at the question he poses to you, you really want to slap him.

You can hear the police sirens outside and you look up at Hyunjin, still attached to him.

“You’ll go to hospital after this, right?”

He nods. “I’ll make Jisung drive.” There’s an annoyed curse from the kitchen, but you can tell it’s just joking.

Joking whilst surrounded by bodies. You close your eyes again. The smell of spent guns and blood makes you want to leave now.

You feel a hand on your back. “I’ll pack a bag for you,” Chan offers. You don’t care if he sees your underwear or anything else unmentionable right now. You don’t want to walk through the living area massacre again.

You nod as Hyunjin rubs his hand up and down your back. It feels like that touch is the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

“Fucking shit.”

Officer Seo has arrived.

—

Your phone pings and you roll over, careful not to jostle the bed too much. Somi fell asleep only a few minutes ago and after assuring her that you were okay, you didn’t want to take away her rest as well.

Not that you are any better as far as nerves are concerned.

It’s a photo message and you open it to see a clean, professionally-done bandage.

Is this your way of sending me photos of your recent workout routine?

You know it.

It makes you smile. The cockiness you can hear in the text.

You okay?

All good, 공주님

Good.

You should be asleep.

You too.

Waiting for the pain meds to kick in. What’s your excuse?

You don’t answer.

자기야

Your thumbs hover over the screen, but you can’t think of what to write. Of how to write anything that’s true.

You didn’t see your father until after the undertaker took care of him, did you?

He gets it. At the core of everything, Hyunjin always got you.

No.

First dead body.

Yes.

Your phone starts buzzing with an incoming call. You quickly slide out of the guest bed and out into the hallway of Minho’s home. Chan looks up at you from the living room couch. He points down the hallway.

“Empty office.”

You mouth ‘thanks’ and follow that path.

You slide open your phone. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His voice is lower than normal and a bit slurred. Perhaps the meds are starting to take effect.

“You didn’t have to call.” You shut the door behind you and glance around. It’s sparse; a couch that looks more like it’s from last century and a desk with drawers and papers strewn about. Maybe Minho isn’t always so organized.

“Shut up,” but it holds no malice. “You’re freaked out and I’d be lying if I wasn’t a bit freaked out myself right now.”

“Really?”

There’s a sigh and then a groan as though in pain.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just tried to roll to my side and well, wrong side.”

“Poor baby.”

“Hell yeah.” There’s a moment of quiet. You can hear soft music in the background. He must be at home, already in bed.

You can picture it all too well.

“I am freaked out,” he begins quietly. “Lee rarely has me on the front lines like that. I’m not used to using a gun for anything but intimidation. Except for initiation before Lee took over, I’ve never shot anyone before.”

“You had to shoot someone for initiation?”

He curses softly. “You’re not supposed to know that, gongjunim.”

“Did you think I didn’t know what was going on with my dad? With you guys when I saw you go up to your loft with Han and Yang, blood on your clothes? I’m not stupid.”

He sighs. “You’re not stupid. But you haven’t…been there…. I don’t think your dad would have ever let you see any of it. I’m sorry you have now.”

You close your eyes, the images from hours ago still very fresh and bright, garish.

“Thank you, you know. For protecting me.” You realize you haven’t said anything.

Another curse. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Well, I did.”

He chuckles. “You comfy there are Lee’s?”

“Well enough. Sharing a bed with Somi, even though we both know they’d rather be sharing a bed with each other.”

“Yeah, I’d rather you here anyway.”

It’s like someone has your heart in their hand and just squeezes it. How can he say shit like that?

“Don’t like your bed cold?”

He snorts. “Figure you can nurse me back to health since it was you I was protecting.”

“Should I bat my eyelashes and call you my hero too?”

“If you want to show you’re truly grateful.”

Another pause.

“Or you know, service me.”

“Your dick is working fine then?”

He sputters on the other end, laughing before hissing in pain.

“You should really be careful with that arm, Hwang.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I know.”

He yawns. “Shit, this stuff is strong.”

“Go to sleep, my knight in shining armor.”

There’s a warmth in his voice when he answers. “I could get used to that.”

“Don’t.”

“Sleep well, gongjunim. I’m glad you’re safe.”

Why do you want to cry?

“Night.”

When you hang up, you lay down on the old sofa of Minho’s and close your eyes. It’s too exhausting to go back to the guest room.

And maybe you wish you were somewhere else too.

—

“When did you sleep last?”

Minho looks up from recent security footage outside the club. Bobby’s goons were still after his predecessor’s daughter. His friend, his little sister for all purposes.

Somi stands in the doorway of his office, clad in his sweatpants and his t-shirt (it had been easier to grab something of his than send Chan or anyone else back to her home to get more clothes).

“Where’s our houseguest?”

“At work.” Somi rolls her eyes at the thought of you still working despite everything you’ve gone through. She walks in and as she gets closer, Minho closes out his phone so she can’t see the video evidence that no one is safe these days. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He bristles but relaxes when she leans against his desk, one hand smoothing his hair out of his eyes. It’s so simple, the quietest of touches, but he relishes it, knowing full well that it will end sooner rather than later.

“Last night.”

“For how long?”

He shoots an annoyed look at her, but she’s unaffected. There’s an ease between them. He knows it’s exactly the wrong thing for her to be that comfortable with him, but even he can be weak. Especially about a pretty set of eyes, kind heart, and resolute spine.

“Long enough.”

“Minho.”

“Somi,” he replies in the same tone. She’s still playing with his hair and he works hard to not lean into her, press his face against her stomach and just breathe her in. “Somi,” he says again, voice more serious.

Her fingers pause in his hair before dropping away.

He meets her gaze as he stands up. “You might want to think about packing up your stuff.”

Her lips part in surprise and he wonders if he sounded too harsh. He never worries about that with anyone other than her. Normally he doesn’t care.

She forces a smile. “You kicking me out?”

His answering smile is amused and soft. “I think you’ll be able to go home very soon, yeobo.” He carefully moves a wayward strand of hair out of her face, his finger lingering on her ear.

He notices the movement in her throat as she swallows. He draws his finger down the delicate skin of her neck.

“That’s good.”

He nods. “I’m hopeful. Even Seo is hopeful.”

“You’ll be safe, though, right?”

He purses his lips for a second. “To the best of Chan’s ability.” He kisses her before she can call him on his evasion. It’s meant to be just a quick one, one more indulgence on his part. But it isn’t quick.

She whimpers into his mouth and all he can do is pull her into his arms, her warmth continuing to thaw his heart.

“You’ll be safe,” he murmurs. Her hands slip under his shirt and pause.

He doesn’t stop her.

“Minho?” she whispers, asking, her fingers dancing up his ribs.

He groans in answer, pulling off his shirt before getting his hands on her again. She shudders as his hands follow the path of her back, all the way down. When he squeezes oh so gently, she jolts, her body completely flush against him.

“You sure?”

She nods, fusing their lips back together. Her impatience makes him want to say something arrogant, but that would require pulling away and he’s loathe to do that. He walks her carefully back toward his couch one hand on her back to ease her down. He goes to remove her (his) t-shirt, but she’s divested herself of it already.

“Eager?”

Her answering expression would be intimidating if she wasn’t flushed and if he wasn’t the head of the Syndicate.

“Cute.”

She reaches out to pull him close. He laughs, a high-pitched giggle, as he maneuvers, placing one knee on either side of her legs. He slides a finger under the waistband of her (his) sweatpants before easing them down and off of her.

His eyebrows rose at the reveal.

“Looks sweet, but is a little dirty,” he observes, noting her lack of underwear.

Her face is a pretty pink. “If I’m not at work or in public, why would I?”

He leans down, hoping the roughness of his jeans doesn’t antagonize her skin, and slips two fingers into her.

“I like this rule of yours. Feel free to go without as much as you want with me.”

She doesn’t answer, her hand gripping his forearm as he explores her, observing every tremble and gasp. Learning her tells with the same focus he gives anything he cares about.

The safety of his men. The ease of transactions.

Jeon Somi.

Unable to think much more about it, he covers her mouth with his, intent on making them both forget how far apart they should be.

How grey his life will be when she goes back to her much safer world.

When she comes apart in his arms, he half-wishes he’d never agreed to Seo’s proposition of protecting a civilian.

—

It says a lot about your recent mental state that you don’t start to question things until Yang mentions something about picking up a package. Your brain is full of other concerns: the safety of yourself, Somi, and the Syndicate; your recent talks with a commercial realtor, Hyunjin (which entails so much), and the fact that you’d rather sleep on the sofa in your office than at your own apartment.

In fact, you don’t think anything is off until you and Somi are halfway down a side street, away from the lively street vendors and you realize how much quieter it’s gotten.

You were just enjoying Somi’s vague but heated brief retelling of the night prior.

You don’t need many details. Lee Minho is more of an annoying older brother than a male lead.

But it’s quiet.

Somi stops walking when you stop walking.

“Yang.”

The younger syndicate member stops and turns back to look at you.

“What’s this package you’re picking up?”

“Something I can’t tell you,” he smiles, but it’s not light or pleasant. He’s a decent liar. One has to be when involved with the underbelly of Busan, but he’s still Jeongin. The baby you remember holding in your arms when only a few days old; his mom couldn’t care for him, and his dad lost in an altercation. He’d grown up in the Syndicate world much like you had. He might be all grown up, but there’s too much in his eyes to make you think anything but…

Trap.

“I’m going to murder you. Then Lee. Then you again.”

Yang grabs you and Somi by the wrists, not too hard, but firmly. He leads you both farther down the side street.

“All of them then,” he says. “They all know.”

Hwang was a dead man.

“What is–?” Somi begins, but you see the movement before she can finish. You try to pull her behind you, but Yang already places himself as the barrier between you two and–

“Ms. Jeon.”

Bobby.

Surely he’s not stupid enough to realize that this is a trap. A trap with two women (you really might punch Lee for this) as bait.

“With the maknae as protection. Goodness, Lee really is stretched too thin.”

“Not everything is about you,” you shoot back, annoyed at the entire situation. Annoyed and worried. No matter how much this was planned, things can and do go wrong.

Bobby is flanked by six men. Their appearance flashes you back to the dead men in your apartment. What were their names? Did they have families that cared? Were their children abandoned as Jeongin had been?

“Oh yes, the club owner,” Bobby says after you speak. He’s wearing sunglasses which, as it’s an overcast day, makes you want to roll your eyes because not only is he a murderer, he’s a pretentious one. “You don’t really matter.”

“That’s why four of your men bled out in my apartment? Cause I don’t really matter?”

Yang squeezes your wrist, making you wince, but you shut up. You do know better, but you're also angry.

Somi is pressed to your side and you can feel her shaking.

To echo Hwang, Bobby can totally burn in hell.

“Just hand her over,” Bobby speaks slowly. “You two can go on with your sad lives if you just hand her over.”

Where on earth is the cavalry?

“No.”

Jeongin hasn’t spoken till this moment and he sounds firm but small. He’s still a kid. Just turned twenty.

“Pity. She can’t live. Seeing what she’s seen.”

The guns come out, all pointed at the three of you.

“Which is what? Bobby? What has she seen?”

You don’t know why you ask, but you do at the same time. In the corner of your eye, you see him. Your business partner, tucked as best he can be with that long body of his behind a part of a building that juts out.

They’re here, but staying silent.

It dawns on you why.

They need a confession.

So the words come out before you think them through. It’s unlikely someone who treats women like Bobby does would think that you have a clue about why Somi is under the syndicate’s protection. You could be as well informed as a Park girl for all he knows.

Bobby smiles. The sort of patronizing ‘oh you little idiot’ kind of smile that makes you want to scream.

“Ms. Jeon here saw an unfortunate incident between myself and her colleague. Not that anyone misses him.”

It has to be enough and you hear the sound of arrival before you see it. You drop to the ground, dragging Somi with you. Yang covers you both as best he can, close enough that you can smell the orange blossom of his cologne.

There are sirens and a few gunshots (less than in your apartment just days ago), but it all sounds distant to you. You’re holding Somi so tightly to you that her staccato breathing seems like the loudest noise.

Eventually, you sense Yang is no longer on top of you.

“Let her go,” a soft voice commands.

You see Changbin, in uniform, carefully drawing Somi away from you. Your moment of appreciation for him in uniform (hat and bulletproof vest) is interrupted by a hand wrapping around your arm to help you up.

You turn away from the police car driving away with Bobby.

Hyunjin is looking down at you, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“You didn’t tell me.”

He closes his eyes before nodding. “I didn’t tell you.”

You swing around, looking for Minho to fully berate (though you recognize that you’re exhausted all of a sudden) when you find him, staring toward where Somi and Changbin are.

Berating doesn’t seem like the best idea right now.

Then it hits you.

It’s over.

The whole thing is over.

You turn back to Hyunjin. “I’m pissed at all of you.”

“Fair.” He pulls you into his arms, hissing in pain once because his arm isn’t fully healed (why on earth is he out here when he’s not 100%?). “Wanna go home?”

“If by home you mean Circus, sure.”

—

You sleep in the next day, having to stretch out your back after sleeping on the office couch again. Hyunjin offers you his bed but you can’t and he doesn’t argue with you.

Sometimes he understands.

You have a meeting with a potential buyer the next day and despite that, everything at the club feels normal. Felix and Seungmin run things as per usual. People come for drinks, for dancing, for music like normal.

It’s like nothing ever happened.

It’s late when you wipe down the bar and tables. The rest of the employees have gone home, and customers gone an hour before that. It’s just you and the very non-club-like music you put on.

You smile as “Unchained Melody” comes through the speakers. Dipping the cloth into the bucket, you hum and squeeze out the excess water. Halfway through wiping the table, you leave the cloth and drift into the dance floor, swaying to the haunting music. You’re nearly healed up and to move without pain is still a blessed marvel.

It takes you several seconds to hear beyond the song to the creaking of stairs and footsteps. You freeze in your dancing and turn to see Hyunjin at the bottom of the steps, in just a pair of jeans.

“Was the music too loud? Did I wake you?” You stutter, annoyed at your nerves. You just saw him yesterday.

Amid a gunfight, yes, but still.

You haven’t seen him all day. You didn’t text him. He didn’t text you.

Hyunjin makes you feel like you’re at the edge of a cliff. You don’t know if falling would be thrilling or fatal.

He scratches the back of his head, his hair a pleasant mess. “No. Woke up on my own. Needed a drink and I’m out.” He steps onto the floor and walks past you to the bar. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it on my tab.”

You grin despite your embarrassment at being caught dancing. “I know you’re good for it.”

He mixes several ingredients before pouring them into a glass. His eyes don’t leave you.

“What?” Might be a good time to go back to cleaning.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you dance since high school.”

You laugh and start back toward the half-finished table. “Yeah, well, it’s generally a solitary thing for me. Hence why you haven’t seen it.”

He’s moved and catches you by the hand before you can return to cleaning. “Dance with me?”

Your heart jumps. “I, uh…”

He tugs you close as the song changes to “Save the Last Dance for Me.” His smile is as soft as his voice. “See, it’s kismet.” He guides your hands to his shoulders and rests his own on your waist. “Like high school.”

You attempt to relax. “You never danced with me in high school.”

“You never asked.”

You scoff. “I wasn’t that liberated then apparently.”

He tightens his hold to bring you closer. “I wasn’t too much for dancing then.”

“Hyunjin…”

His hand settles in the curve of your waist. “You’re so small here. It always surprises me.”

Your face heats and you try to pull away, but he’s stronger than you are, especially when he’s stubborn.

“And your ears. Tiny,” One finger traces along the shell. “Tall as you are, as curvy…you’re still fragile in some ways.” His eyes focus back on yours.

“I’m not sure if you’re complimenting me or not. I’ve never asked for an evaluation of my body.” It strikes you then that he knows your body better than most and you’ve unintentionally brought up that one night. The night neither of you ever talk about.

“Don’t,” he says as you try to pull away again. “Just dance with me.” He succeeds in bringing you close until there is no space and your cheek rests on his bare shoulder. It’s easier if you don’t have to look at him, so you don’t argue.

The song changes again, but neither of you stops swaying.

Your hand, of its own accord, moves to play with his hair at the nape of his neck while the other reminds you that he is still without a shirt as it slides along his shoulder blade and down his spine to the top of his jeans. You force your hand not to go any farther.

“How often,” he breathes in your ear and you shiver, “do you think about that night?”

“More than I’d prefer.” You lift your head to see him. His eyes are so dark. “You?”

“Most every time I see you.” He brushes the hair out of your eyes. His fingers linger, tracing your eyebrows, along your jaw, and to your lips. “It can be inconvenient sometimes.”

“Sucks for you.”

He leans in close, making your cocky expression falter. “How’s Somi?”

“Home. Going back to work. Says she saw one of the Syndicate when she ran errands today.”

“Precautionary.” He lets his nose touch yours for just a second. “Lee probably will keep tabs on her until after sentencing.”

You nod, having a difficult time looking away from him. “Hyunjin…”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Always.” You don’t sound mad despite your words. “What for this time?”

“Not telling you about the plan.”

You sigh, letting your head drop. His lips press against your forehead. “It’s Syndicate business, right? I’m not Syndicate.”

“You’re still mad.”

You lift your head, freezing when you realize how close his lips are.

“I’m tired of being mad.”

“Me too.” He leans close enough to let his lips brush yours. It’s a hint, something that offers but doesn’t demand.  “Come upstairs?” He draws back to level you with a look you recognize. One that makes your skin tingle. “Please?”

You’re older, and wiser this time. Your heart won’t be affected if you take what he’s offering.

You nod and his smile sweetens. He takes you by the hand and leads you to the stairs. Before you’re halfway up, he turns and with gentle pressure, braces you against the railing and kisses you.

Your mouth opens to let him in, your body tightening in anticipation, but he’s unhurried this time. He ends the kiss with a soft peck on your lips and takes your hand again and continues up to his apartment.

“Hyunjin.”

He shuts the door behind you and locks it before turning to you.

“What is it, jagiya?” He takes both your hands in his and kisses you again. “Having second thoughts?”

“No,” you breathe back though in truth you’re having a million thoughts. “Just wanted to ask you to remind me to wipe the security camera tomorrow.”

He laughs against your lips. “We were just dancing.”

“You know if any of them found that footage, we’d never hear the end of it.”

He tugs on the hem of your shirt before slipping it over your head. When he starts on your jeans, a sly grin graces his lips. “Lee’d beat the shit out of me, then Chan would make sure I never got up again. Deleting the footage is self-preservation.” His fingers brush against the skin of your stomach and you shiver.

“Coward.”

He glances at you through those thick eyelashes of his. “Absolutely.” He goes to push down your pants, but you’ve got to kiss him again. He lets you, pulling you into his arms, hands sliding up your back.

When you draw back, his eyes fall to your exposed skin. “Still healing?”

“What?”

“You have marks,” he gestures at the bruising along your side. “Fragile, like I said.”

“Who got shot?” you retort, gesturing back to his arm. He pouts.

“For you. I got shot for you.”

You know he’s teasing, but the reminder feels like a punch to your gut. He did get shot for you.

“I know.”

His joking fades at your words, and you hear him inhale sharply when you kiss his arm, right above the bandage. He murmurs your name, his hand carding through your hair before gripping so he can get you to look at him.

He leans down to kiss you, less gentle and less sweet; all tongue. You pull at his jeans, impatient.

He laughs before breaking away to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. He looks up at you, noticing how much you’re staring.

“Stop.”

You meet his eyes, and see the tinge of color spreading on his cheeks and ears. How can he blush, knowing he looks like this all day, every day?

“No.”

He rolls his eyes at your petulance before offering his hand. “Bedroom?”

As he leads you the short distance to his bedroom, you think about how easy it is. When you don’t think too much, when you don’t consider all outcomes. How easy it is to have your hand in his; his beautiful fingers slotted between yours. The artist hands holding yours like he doesn’t have both life and death in them.

He can paint sunsets and kill an intruder.

What would Hyunjin be today if he’d never fallen into the Syndicate?

A struggling artist?

A charming bartender?

Something not even he could consider because the Syndicate sucks everyone in.

He’s staring at you, while your brain creates scenarios that can never be.

He doesn’t ask but bends down to brush his lips to yours. He’s so gentle and smells like a sweet cocktail, mixed with the fabric softener he uses.

You slide your hands into his hair, intent on savoring every detail about this. The silk of his hair, the sharpness of his breaths, the way he tastes of vodka and passionfruit.

Those artist hands, long-fingered and nimble, remove your bra and underwear. He’s on his knees after tossing the last of your clothing away. You don’t think you’ll ever find another person as beautiful as him.

You maneuver him to his bed, propped up by his pillows, looking like naked royalty. His skin is flushed, the movement of his chest revealing how very not calm and collected he is. You crawl onto the bed, strategically so both your knees are pressed into the mattress outside his hips. He sits up once you’re close to kiss you again.

“I had no idea how much you liked kissing,” you murmur, one hand on his chest and the other skimming along his shoulder and down his arm. His hand links with yours.

He hums against your mouth. “You. I like kissing you.” He lays back down, making sure you stay close. His hand lazily trails up and down your back. He nips your bottom lip and you jolt at the mild aggression. He smirks at you before cupping your cheek in his hand and leaving over to his nightstand to grab a condom.

When he hands it to you and you get to work opening it, you feel his hand leave your face to card through your hair.

There’s a slight whine when you roll the latex on, your fingers reacquainting with his cock. His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging so you look up at his face.

“What?” you smirk, squeezing him a little. The sound he makes is so gratifying that you do it again and his hand tightens even more in your hair. “Don’t get sappy and say you want to look at my face or something.”

“But I do.”

You can feel his words, the weight of them, the gravity. He’s not teasing, he’s not bantering with you.

He pulls so your head tilts back slightly. You feel his mouth, wet and hot, against the sensitive skin of your neck. You're distracted, rightly, so when he slides in, the moan you let out is horribly embarrassing. He loosens his grip on you, your head falling forward so your eyes can look nowhere but into his.

—

You wake before him, the light of dawn peeking through the curtains. It’s unbelievably similar to the last time you woke up beside him except you aren’t in pain, and he’s under the covers with you.

Three times you’ve woken up in his bed and twice he was still there. That’s much better odds than you’d originally thought possible.

But the sight of him asleep twists something inside you and as quietly as you can, you slide out of bed. Your clothes are in the living room, and it doesn’t take too long to find and put them back on. The rest of your things are downstairs in the office and you just force yourself not to look back into the bedroom before you leave.

—

You’re in the office an hour before opening when he walks in. You don’t look away from the computer.

“Did you fix the security feed?” he asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“Yep.” You peer over the top of the monitor to look at him. He doesn’t look any worse for wear, but he seems tense. “So, I met with the buyer…”

“Sell it.” He interrupts you. “Sell the damn thing. Lee has other places to meet.” He walks back to the door. “You left this morning. Was that turnabout?”

It was, but that doesn’t make you feel better. You look back at your screen.

“I was awake and needed to get home. Unless you prefer another round in the morning?” Your voice is sharp with flippancy.

“Fuck you.” His voice catches.

Your eyes can’t look anywhere but him. There’s a sheen glimmering in his eyes.

“Don’t make it less than it was.” He sneers.

You stand up, not sure how to handle the normally chill Hwang Hyunjin when he’s burdened like this. “It was goodbye. I know.”

He rests his head on the door with a harsh laugh. “You don’t know shit. Call your buyer and sell it.” He opens the door to leave.

“I’ll split the buying price evenly—“

“I trust you in this, gongjunim.” He meets your gaze, his own eyes red-rimmed. “I’ll look for a new place to live too.”

“He doesn’t have immediate plans for the loft…”

“I don’t want to stay if it’s not ours anymore.” And he walks out.

—

“Somi?”

You’re staring at your filled-to-the-brim trunk, hoping that you got everything from the Circus office and hadn’t forgotten anything. It’s mid-morning and the club looks like any closed business right now.

It’s off-putting,

You hear your name and turn to see a familiar silhouette come down the street. Somi hurries up to you and hugs you tightly. “I’m not too late.”

“Your timing is really good.” You hug back, grateful for the warmth that is Jeon Somi. “Also, you look really good,” You tell her, shutting the door to your trunk.

“Thanks. You look…”

“Awful, it’s okay. Moving is stressful.”

“You look like you’ve been crying.” Never one to mince words.

You lean back on your car. “Yeah, well. I said goodbyes yesterday but held off feeling much of it until today. I’ll miss my boys.”

“Minho said you found a place?”

“Yeah, on Jeju. Different style. Different clientele.” You take a deep breath and let it out. “You and Minho still talk?”

The lawyer blushes prettily. “Sometimes.”

“That’s nice.” You didn’t bring up Somi to Lee for a number of reasons. Mostly your conversations of late had been about your upcoming move and also, you didn’t want to make him sad.

Even if he’d never admit it.

She nods. “It is. It’s…something.” She tugs on her work blazer. “What about Hyunjin?”

You straighten. “What about him? He’s Syndicate.”

She gives you a long look. “Last time I saw both of you, you were in his arms.”

You snort, crossing your arms. “Life or death experiences make me a little affectionate. Sue me.”

She says your name in a very no-nonsense tone and you feel like a scolded student. You huff but relent.

“Our thing was a long time ago. And it was only one night.” Two, you correct yourself mentally. “Even if it was more than that, he can’t leave.” You stare back at Circus. “And I can’t stay.”

“I’m sorry.” She must be incredibly good at her job; having empathy like that.

You shake your head. “I’ve needed to get out for a while. The stuff with you was just the push, you know? The catalyst. I’m grateful to know you. And you know, if you’re ever in the area…”

“I’ll look you up. I haven’t been to Jeju since I was a kid.”

You hug her again before you get into your car.

“Take care of Lee for me, okay?”

It means a lot that she doesn’t deny that he needs it. “Will do.”

—

A Year Later

“A customer wants to see you, boss,” Yena tells you, opening the office door just a bit. “How long have you been looking at those numbers?”

You chuckle and look up at your tiny manager. “Until they tell me what I actually want to hear. That we are in the black.”

“No one is in the black ten months in business.”

“I’m just a dreamer,” You reply and get up to stretch. “You said there was a customer?”

“Yeah, wants to ask about some of the beers. And to make a couple of suggestions.”

You roll your eyes. “Everyone’s expert.” You head to the front of your much smaller and cozier pub.

Muddy Water had none of the class and hip appeal that Circus had, but you preferred it like that. Trying to redo what you’d already done seemed like an effort in pointlessness. Forgetting your previous life and all that it encompassed seemed like a most intelligent choice.

Never mind that he still often shows up in your dreams.

“He’s at the end of the bar,” Yena calls after you. You see that Woodz is still manning the bar, but looks overwhelmed by the customer at the end of the bar.

“You asked to…” you begin as you get behind the bar and head in that direction. Then you see the long black hair, cut shorter; the soft brown eyes, the unfairly perfect lips. “Hwang.”

Maybe your dreams are feeling more like reality?

“Hey Park.” He smiles winsomely at you. “I was just testing your staff.”

“Woodz is barely two weeks old.” You glance at your new bartender. “Sorry about him. He enjoys ruffling all kinds of feathers. You can continue.”

Woodz nods and goes back to cleaning up empty glasses and plates.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

“You didn’t say goodbye, jagiya.” He finishes his bright pink cocktail.

You point at his drink. “Only you would order something like that at a pub.”

He rests his chin on his hand, still smiling at you.

“And you avoided me.”

“You avoided me,” he answers back but doesn’t sound upset. “I was still pissed at you.”

“I assumed. You got your half, right? All fair, yes?” You jam your hands into your jeans’ pockets, feeling the trembling. He can’t know how floored you are right now.

He rolls his eyes. “You think I came here to talk business with you?”

“I’m not buying the sentimental.”

He shrugs. “But that’s why I’m here.”

You look to see that the few people around are watching you both avidly. “Come on.” You wave at him to follow you. He tails you past the office door to another at the end of the hallway. You open it and indicate he should go in.

“Your place?”

“For now.” It’s one room with a shower and toilet, but you have a full kitchen just down the hall, so you make do. “It requires no rent and I’ll find a nicer place when Muddy Water is a little more profitable.”

“It’s nice.” He plops down on the sole couch. “Comfy.”

You shut the door and lean against it. “Hyunjin.”

“You know why you woke up and I wasn’t there?”

No small talk anymore then. You tense at the mention of your first night together, and he sees it but continues without commenting.

“I’d woken up really early and there you were, just lying next to me. Your hair a total mess, and face smushed on my pillow.” He smiles in remembrance. “And I thought how beautiful you were. How much I loved you.”

You make some sort of noise, but he doesn’t stop.

“And that scared me. Scared the shit out of me, so I got up and dressed and went out for a bit. I probably walked an hour, thinking about you, me…us. I bought breakfast too. And I came to the conclusion that I had no idea what to do, but whatever it was, I wanted to do it with you.” He sits up and sets his hands on his knees. “But when I got back you were gone. When I saw you later that day…”

He didn’t really need to continue. You remember what happened that day.

“You wouldn’t look at me. I wish we’d just fought about it, but neither of us spoke. And I guess, I wimped out. I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t think you’d believe me, honestly. Not after me abandoning you. It was easier not to tell you.”

You still don’t say anything. What can you say?

You see him swallow, the first indication of how nervous he is.

“You’ve always called me a coward, and at that moment, I was one. Besides, I convinced myself I was caught up in the moment. It probably wasn’t really love. I mean, how could it be? You don’t fall in love when you’re in the Syndicate.”

The silence is deafening.

“Anyway,” He stands up and tucks his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think I let myself believe it until you got hurt. Then you chose to leave us���me and…” He pulls up one of his sleeves then the other as though he’s too warm. “I figured maybe you never felt the same. Then we…” he trails off when he sees your expression.

You’re looking right at the inside of his exposed forearm, where the tattoo that marks all the Parks should have been. You walk to him, grabbing his arm and looking closer. Skin is a little redder, but the tattoo’s been removed.

“It took a while. I had no idea that removing it would be so damn expensive.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I asked to step down. To leave.”

“You did what?”

“I’m out. Minho knew. I’d told him after you said you wanted to sell. I couldn’t stay.” He tugs your hair like a boy wanting a girl’s attention back in elementary school. “It took some time to take care of everything, and I wanted to let you get settled with whatever you were going to do.”

“You’re out.” Your brain is struggling to understand words.

He nods. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever not be a suspicious character to the cops, but I was never arrested. Besides, I like being a bartender. I’m good at it. Best tips.” His smile is weak. “I really hope you love me too cause I can’t come back from this.”

Your eyes have been filling for several minutes and decide then to overflow.

“Jagiya…” He draws you into his arms and kisses your hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about that morning. I know I fucked it up.”

“I’m sorry I left you too.” You say brokenly. “It was too hard to stay. I can’t do casual with you. I never could.”

He hugs you tighter. “Thank god.”

You laugh before drawing back and wiping your eyes. “You’re really here for a job?”

“Yeah, and if you’re too full, I’d say fire Woodz because he barely knows the difference between an IPA and a stout.” He kisses your forehead. “You just hired him because he’s hot.”

“Partially.”

“I’m here for you. I can always work elsewhere if that’s better. I just want to be with you.”

“God, you’re sappy.”

“Yeah, well, I’m an artist in love.” He kisses your nose. “A romantic.”

“I love you anyway.”

His smile right then will stay in your memory forever.

“So, do I get the job?”

“I’ll think about it.” You kiss him before he can protest.

---

(c) yoongihan 2022. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans. 

[obsessivebookgeek]

The room is brightly lit, sharp enough to make my eye sting and water as they adjust. I squint at the person sitting across from me.

They look strange to me, their deep chocolate skin and braided hair both distinctly familiar and yet seemingly warped.

In unison, we stand, slowly leaning out of the chair, legs wobbling from lack of use. Neither of us says a word, still scrutinizing the other. Which of us is real? How can they expect for us to figure it out?

I ransack my brain, searching for a useful memory. It’s like I hit a wall in my brain. The only things I can recall are images of this room, in the past few minutes. I can remember feelings, distant thoughts, I can remember that my favorite food is fried chicken and that I love the sunrise, but… if I were real, I would have real memories.

“ I think you’re the real one.” I say, my voice strangely pitched. It wouldn’t be so bad, living in this room forever, knowing that at least a part of me, the original, better me was out there, living.

It takes me a moment to realize that my double said the same thing. “ Why do you think that?” I ask, glancing at the person from across the room. My room, I suppose once they leave to go live their life.

“ I don’t remember anything,” is their response, making me raise a brow. “ Only a double wouldn’t have their own memories.”

I laugh, the sound somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. “Just how closely did they make us?” I wonder aloud. “ I don’t remember anything either.”

My double squints at me, then laughs as well. “If we are true doubles,” the other me begins, frowning, “ then how are we to figure it out?”

I frown as well, examining the empty room for clues. Nothing but the chairs that we were tied up in. “There has to be some difference,” I reason, as I turn back to my double, “what would be the point of giving us an impossible task?”

“To drive us insane,” my copy suggests, glaring at the camera that watches us from the corner of the room, the small red light blinking to tell us that it’s on. “To force us to stay here, and grow suspicious of one another as we go mad with wondering.”

“Then I don’t suppose they know us very well,” I say, cracking a smile. My twin does the same, and we both walk forward, meeting in the center of the cell.

Now only a few feet apart, we stare at each other again, both of us taking in each dip and crevice in the other’s face, the closest thing we have to a mirror.

“I don’t think I’d mind staying here, with only myself for company,” I say, and my double huffs a laugh at my poor joke.

“As long as I had a book or fifty,” my double agrees. She reaches a hand towards me and I grasp it, shaking firmly.

Then, a devious grin grows on her face and mine mirrors it as the same thought plays in our minds. “Let’s give them hell while we’re at it,” and it doesn’t matter who says it, because our minds are thinking the same thing.

You wake up in a chair in a padded cell. Someone else sits across from you. A voice from a speaker in the ceiling says, “One of you is a natural person. One of you is artificial. Determine which is which. The real person gets to go free.” You can’t remember anything before this room.

[zv5x]

Oh? 👀👀👀

~🌸

The moment we have all been waiting for, a part two to the angst haven yan!spirit fic !

I'm also going to tag @fizzy-popp as well since they wanted this too and I modeled this part two off of their request since I liked it a lot !!!!

(A/N) - I left the method (Y/N) used to get Spirit out of the Hating Simulator ambiguous considering it wasn't confirmed how he was trapped in there and my brain is too fried to think of a method that makes genuine sense , I feel like it might be just some chant or something like that but I'm not sure so we're all gonna have to use our imaginations on this one tehee

Stay safe you all and remember my inbox is always open!

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

How long's it been? At least a few years. Most definitely, but you were too absorbed in finally being independent again that you were too euphoric to worry about counting your days. It wasn't like your freedom had a deadline, after all.

It was just another day, a day which you spent happily around the presence of other people. One of them asked you to borrow something at the cafe, and being the kind person you always tried to be, was absolutely willing to help out. You were sure you had what they wanted (hell, you had everything a human could ever need no matter the situation) in a room you haven't touched in lord knows how long. Your brain wanted you to remember what the reason for that was, but your guilty conscience begged you to remain ignorant. At least for as long as you could.

The item they desired laid near a far corner, and you found it with great ease. However, your main objective was pushed to the side as you looked to your side and fixed your gaze on a certain jet black console. Your heart sunk as your eyes focused in on it, your brain throwing all the memories attached to it front in center. You knelt down, scooting up to it by your knees and wiping a line of dust off it with a single swipe of your trembling finger.

He was still in there. Spirit was in there.

Tears pricked your eyes as you felt yourself raising the console up and settling it down inside your lap.

Was he even conscious at this point? You weren't sure. Though, with all the memories flooding back to you, it was easier said than done, letting yourself stay with those questions. Still trembling, you picked the console up and held it close to your chest. Walking to your own room, with a TV set up all ready for him, you pondered about what you were to say to Spirit.

A "did you learn your lesson", while appropriate considering the circumstances, would sound quite insensitive to any outside viewer, and especially to Spirit himself. An "I'm sorry" would more than likely imply Spirit was without fault, and you couldn't have him falling back into his own delusions the moment you were considering freeing him once more.

Settling the console down in your room, you finally were able to get a good look at the state it was left in. Dusty, tangled cables, cold to the touch. Still, it looked hauntingly comforting. Like a parasitical nostalgia with sickening undertones. You could barely focus on reality as you turned the console on and plugged the cords in all their respective places. You were only snapped back to the present moment as that oh-so familiar title music filled your ears and almost caused you to jump. You sat and listened to it for a moment, staring longingly at the sprite of Senpai that lingered on the screen. It reminded you of a much easier time, and though he was a robot, you hoped he was doing a lot better than you were at the present moment.

Pressing a button meant to pass the title screen, you weren't half surprised as instead of a save file screen, you were greeted with complete blackness.

"(Y/N)...is-is that you...?"

You lip quivering, you could only let out a weak hum in response to who you knew was at the other side of the screen. Immediately after hearing your response, you saw him pop up on the screen, gentle sobs just barely audible from where you were positioned and from the current volume of the television.

"I missed you...so much..." His voice was weak, he sounded absolutely defeated. Not that you blamed him, though. That place just be hell to spend so long in, along with the anxiety of wondering if today was the day the code would break completely, leaving you to rot in your own digital corruption. Thinking back on it, you didn't know what you were thinking. There were better ways you could have approached this, you didn't know why your last resort had to so quickly become your first.

"I'm-I'm here to let you out, Spirit. I'm so, so sorry..." Breaking your promise to yourself to not apologize, you wiped tears from your eyes with your sleeve and quickly thought of how you got him out last time.

Taking a deep breath, you repeated the exact steps you took the last time you wanted him out. However, this time, you harbored the guilt of being the one who trapped him in there in the first place. You wonder if he, the father of the girl who originally gave you the game, felt any guilt for being the original trapper. You wondered if he thought about Spirit after he trapped him even half as much as you did.

Soon, in no time at all, you allowed yourself to take a breath you failed to realize you were depriving yourself of, and your eyes locked on him. There he stood, right there back in the middle of your room. He stood silently for a moment, before looking down and staring at his hands. He was full again, free again. You gave him another chance.

Slowly, he looked up at you, just as you got up from the floor and met him at his height, swallowing hard before giving him a sympathetic smile. "Welcome back, Spirit..." He blinked, looking as if he could barely believe he was finally standing in front of you once more. Like you were the most rarest occurrence showing itself right before his eyes. But still, he seemed still disillusioned by the whole situation. Maybe he just needed some time to adjust.

And so, you gave him that time. All while giving the real affectionate attention you know he's missed for so very long. You spoke to him, clueing him in on every major human event he's missed, giving him yet another tour of your house, smiling at him and pointing in the direction of every new belonging the two of you passed. He seemed silent, still. Closed off. That was, until, you paused right in the middle of the room, cooing words of encouragement and gently patting his head. Feeling your touch, his eyes widened instantly, tears welling up from the feeling.

Bursting into sobs upon feeling your touch, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder, holding back purrs as he felt you rub smooth circles on his back. He feared the two drastically different emotions being expressed physically at the same time would do more harm than good, so he focused on expressing his bittersweet grief first.

"I still love you, (Y/N)..."

Smiling and giving a gentle peck on his cheek, you shushed him ever so gently.

"I know you do, Spirit. I know you do." Your voice was so calm, so welcoming, he truly wasn't able to comprehend how he lived so long without being able to hear it.

You let him out, and now, he was sure you expected a change in behavior from him. Lucky for the both of you, Spirit was planning on staying true to what he promised you before you left him all those years ago.

That he'd be good. And he'd do it all for you.

Now that you're here with him once more, he'll be (quite literally) damned if he'll ever let the two of you be torn apart again.

[headinthestaticsky]

Sanctuary with the Enthralling Moon: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 4

Authors notes: I think this is my least favorite chapter I have wrote... but, I hope you guys like it anyway.

All rights go to Stephanie Meyer, none of the characters in Twilight are mine.

“Stay afloat When it feels like it's all going nowhere And you wanna know But the tide keeps trying to pull you under Let it go You can't fight the waves, boy, it's no wonder If you wanna grow Don't fight what's natural.”

Rush by, Kali Uchis

POV: Back to Fleurs.

Today I had woken up on my own and according to my alarm clock, it was already the afternoon. I stumbled down the stairs, almost running into a wall before making my way to the kitchen. I put my head on the table, trying wake myself up. It was crazy how fast the months had gone by. November and December came by in a flash and Leah and I had been hanging out more. I had almost dosed off in the kitchen when I heard my dad speak.

 “Hey Petal, Sam called... he wanted to see you today.”

“Sam? I didn’t except him to want to see me.”

“He was asking for you.”

“Okay, I’ll head down there now.”

I felt nervous on my way down there, I wondered why Sam was wanting to see me, why Bella was all of the sudden going down there. I stopped the car and sat there for a moment, collecting my nerves and unanswered questions and putting them in the back of my mind. When I got out I saw Sam, he looked pretty different from last year. His hair was cut short, he was way more buff, and he had a tattoo.

“Hey Fleur.”

“Sam.”

I sighed and then started walking toward the beach, Sam was trailing behind me.

“So... Jacob and Bella huh?” Sam started.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t heard anything about it?”

“No, Bella hasn’t had a civil conversation with me for a solid 5 months.”

“Oh... they’re apparently building dirt bikes down at Billy’s.”

“... She’s trying to kill herself... she won’t make it 5 inches without getting into some kind of accident.”

“Yeah...”

“Look... why did you call me? We haven’t talked for an entire year.”

“ I know you saw Leah yesterday, what did she say to you?.”

“We caught up, and then she told me what happened between you two. Why would you do that to her?”

“Do what?”

“Uh, break up with her after 3 years to then date and get engaged to her cousin? Someone who she was extremely close to mind you.”

“I wish I could tell you Fleur, but it’s complicated.”

“It seems to be all you do lately... You never explained to me why you didn’t want me to date Jasper so bad.”

“Because he’s a...”

“A what? Besides, I’m still dating him... I lived.”

“Of course you’re still with him. Your brain must’ve gotten fried back in Arizona.”

“Hey, don’t you dare insult my intelligence! What is with you? Why are you such a DICK all the time! Besides this isn’t about my relationship, this is about yours!”

“Don’t call me that Fleur.”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Hey, what’s going on down here?”

“Paul, stay out of this!”

“I’ll tell you whats going on, your friend here is being a complete dick!”

“Aww, did he hurt your feelings?” Paul said mockingly.

“Calling someone stupid tends to piss them off.”

“Well you don’t exactly look the intelligent type.”

I whipped my hand back and smacked him, He turned his head back around and started panting heavily. His face was red with anger and rage.

“Fleur... get back. Paul calm down.” Sam said

I slowly took a few steps back. All of the sudden Paul morphed into a wolf, I was frozen in my spot. Paul then took off, away from the beach.

“Sam... saying you turn into a wolf is not complicated... it’s pretty freaking clear. “hey Fleur... I turn into a giant ass werewolf.

“Come on, let’s head back to the house.”

“I would go with you... but I can’t move.”

Sam sighed before picking me up, he started running back down to the house.

“So... I’m going to assume being a werewolf has something to do with what happened Leah huh?”

“Yeah, it does...you see us werewolves have the ability to imprint on someone. This person could be a lover or just have a brother/sister relationship. We’re a protector to that person we imprint on.”

“So you imprinted on Emily...”

“Yeah, the second I locked eyes with her... I couldn’t stop myself from imprinting, it was as if someone else had over taken my body.”

“I get it now, you don’t really have a choice as to who it is, it chooses you.”

“Exactly.”

“Now that I got that part of the context clues it makes you seem way less of a dick...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So... if your tribes legend is right, you know that the Cullens are vampires.”

“Yeah we do.”

“Listen, the Cullens are not bad people, they don’t even go after humans.”

“They’re still a bunch of leeches.”

“You need to have some faith in me here Sam. Jasper’s amazing, he would do anything for me. I would do anything for him... we protect each other. Even though, he does a lot more of the protecting than me.”

He sighed

“Okay, okay... I’ll trust him...  but that’s about as far as I will go on that.”

“It’s progress...”

Timeskip: A week later

It seems I was always going down to the reservation anymore after meeting Emily and having the whole imprinting thing cleaned up I was hanging around Sam a lot more. Today I was going to visit Billy and Jacob. I wanted to see if those rumors on the dirt bikes were true. Bella still wasn’t talking to me so... I would have to figure it out myself. When I got there I started walking toward an old red shed, I knocked on it, waiting for someone to answer.

“Come in!”

“Hey Jake, it’s been a while!”

“Fleur!” He ran toward me and spun me around in a hug.

“So are the rumors true? Where are the dirt bikes?”

“Yeah...what are you doing here Fleur.” Bellas voice had jumped in, venom leaked out of it.

“You haven’t talked to me in 3 months Bella. When I hear that you’re somewhere I have to investigate it... Me seeing you is a rare phenomena, it’s like it happens every 100 years.”

“Well you saw me, you can leave now.”

“Make me leave.”

“Okay you two, cool it. You can come with us if you want  We plan on riding the bikes down by the beach.”

“Oh...”

“No... she will not come with us.” Bella interrupted

“No don’t worry about it... I was going down to Sam’s I thought I would stop by on the way.”

Bella scoffed.

“Of course you’d hang out with Sam, Jake has told me about him, I heard he tries to influence people too.”

“Are you trying to insinuate that I made the Cullens leave, again?”

“Glad to know your brain still works.”

“I’m not starting this with you Bella, you’re not worth it I need to go, Emily is excepting me soon. It was nice to see you again Jake.” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” Jake looked between us... he looked trapped, caught in the middle of our childish fight.

POV Change: Bella’s

“Can you believe her Jake? I know she’s just trying to get me in trouble with those bikes... she’s probably on her way home telling Dad right now.”

“What’s up with you and Fleur? I really don’t think she came here to find proof of you doing this just to tell your dad.”

“You don’t know her like I do, she’s a manipulator...”

“I’ve just never known Fleur to be like that...”

“You haven’t been around her long enough to know her like I do... Can we talk about something else please?”

“Sure... we need to go anyway.”

Timeskip: To Sam and Emily’s AND a POV Change: Back to Fleur

Emily was making food in the kitchen, she was excepting the rest of the pack to come over today so she had her hands full. I was peeling potatoes and carrots while talking to Emily. It was nice, it was like talking to an older sister.

“So you Bella aren’t doing so well?”

“No... it was so weird, we had been getting along a lot last year... Then all of sudden we got into a fight in Arizona and we haven’t been the same ever since...”

“I understand how you feel, It’s the same way with Leah and I. Ever since Sam and I got together... it just hasn’t been the same.”

“I might be able to help you out with this one... Let’s say that the situation with Sam was flipped. He was with you, vanished for a week, and then imprinted on Leah when he came back. It would be a lot to take in for someone... I don’t mean to make you sound like the bad guy but... if you put yourself in her shoes, you might understand her a bit better.”

“Yeah, you’re right... I couldn’t imagine how that must feel. But, what do I do?”

“Just give her sometime. I’m positive she’ll come around, the way she talks about you to me seems full of love. She just needs some time apart right now.”

‘Okay, that’s fair... I’ll give her some space... thanks Fleur.”

“No probl...”

“Fleur come quick! Bella hit her head she’s bleeding.” Jacob said, he was panting as he if he ran down here. His shirt was missing too.

“Damn it... I knew she shouldn’t of gotten on those bikes... She trips walking on a flat service with nothing in front of her.” 

I ran out of the house, Jake was running quickly behind me, I could see Bella leaning against her truck, holding Jake’s shirt on her head. 

“Do you need me to drive you to the hospital?” I asked.

Bella didn’t even look at me, her head was turned to the side.

“Look, you can still hold a grudge against me... we don’t have to talk the entire way. But you literally bleeding out of your head... you need patched up.”

Bella groaned in annoyance, before throwing me her keys. She opened the truck door and then slammed it shut.

“Thanks for tell me Jake, I better go,”

“No problem.”

We didn’t say one word to each other the entire trip to the hospital, nor did we talk the entire ride home. I of course, had to explain to dad why she had a patch on her head.

“She and Jake were walking on the beach, the sand was a bit too slippery and she fell and hit her head on a rock.”

A week had gone by, Bella was even more tense than usual. Jacob had stopped talking to her after an incident at the movie theater with her and Mike. At least, that’s what dad had told me. My dreams with Jasper were getting more real and intense. The last phone call I had with him seemed like the dreams were starting to get to them. 

Flashback to phone call.

“I saw you again, you were following me where ever I went, but you disappear before I can talk to you.”

“That’s so strange...”

“One day I’m going to call out for you, and you’re actually going to be there.”

“I hope so, I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.”

Flashback over

“Petal, Harry and I are going on a fishing trip. Watch out for Bella, if she goes anywhere, follow her. I don’t know how she’s doing right now since Jake is talking to her... We don’t need another woods incident.”

“Sure, no problem.”

It seemed as soon as dad had left, Bella planned on leaving, I caught her before she could reach the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I was just planning on going for a walk...I thought I would invite you to go with me.”

“Really? Where did you plan on walking then?”

“To the woods.” I lied on the spot

“Fine... I’ll go with you.”

We walked in the woods for a bit, the only sound I could hear was crunching underneath my feet.

“Do you know why Jake hasn’t talked to me?”

“No.” I half lied, I thought I knew what was happening...Billy had said Jacob had mono and he couldn’t even go outside. But, I thought he was changing, that he would become a werewolf soon. 

“Oh come on Fleur, I saw you two talking outside before you went to drive me to the hospital... You want me to be completely isolated from everyone.”

“Are... are you insane? Did that hit you took from the bike accident damage your brain somehow? All I did was thank him for bringing you back.”

“Whatever... this is all your fault!” Bella said, she then sprinted out in the woods, trying to lose me.”

“BELLA!” I yelled and began to chase after her. I found her quickly though, and I saw her hunched on the ground, picking at dead bits of grass. I heard rustling on the other side of the field. Bella heard it too and looked up, she then gasped.

“Laurent?” 

[captain-lovelace]

Fate for the different types of headcanons? (Shocking I know)

Headcanon: I have so many but my brain is fried so I’ll go with “Morgan made Mordred a homunculus specifically so he would age fast enough that he’d die soon after fulfilling his purpose, which did come true, but she wasn’t around to see it.”

Heartcanon: Shishigou and Waver hooked up once when they were young and freshly traumatized and it didn’t work at all and then later they found each other and began to slowly heal together, this time making it work.

Gutcanon: not so much an opinion as a statement/theory but Apocrypha’s statement on the nature of humanity is pretty much exactly the opposite of the statement of 17776– to quote an old message I once sent, 17776 is like, "isn't endlessly striving for something impossible rather than loving what we have a horrible thing?" and Apocrypha is like "isn't endless stagnation rather than continually trying to grow and improve a horrible thing?"

Junkcanon: dragon dicks real <3

Spleencanon: now this one is in fact Tsukihime but I choose to believe that there is a universe where Akiha and Shiki are able to try and become an actual family again, as difficult as breaking the cycle may be, as hard as the work may be. Fuck you Nasu they’re siblings.

Appendixcanon: I have no fucking clue

Rectumcanon: AGRAVAIN WAS A GOOD BROTHER TO MORDRED, AS BEST AS HE COULD POSSIBLY BE A GOOD BROTHER! THEY UNDERSTOOD EACH OTHER! IF YOU SEND ME THINGS ABOUT MORDRED KILLING AGRAVAIN LIKE HAHA FUNNY JOKE I’LL END YOU, AGRAVAIN IS AN INTERESTING CHARACTER AND I LIKE HIM AND YOU’RE BEING AN ASSHOLE!!!!!!!

Yeah there was a lot of Mordred here but what did you expect

[trashcatsnark]

Oh, let me continue the subject of the jealousy of these two. You're saying that Johnny isn't the type to hold back when it comes to emotions. And it really is. But... there is a moment in the game when V talks about his exes or about stupid compliments in a conversation with River. And Johnny doesn't say anything. I would write it off as a scenario move, so as not to shift the focus from the River. But this isn't the only time Johnny ignores events in this quest line. See the second question

Part 2 for context:  So... I continue. Do you remember the moment when you watched brain damage and lost consciousness, when you and River were searching for clues about the mayor's murder? Johnny never ignored the moments when V passed out. Here River comes to the rescue, and you would think that he knows that there is someone to help and nothing to worry about ...But in similar situations with Judy and Panam, he would appear and deliver his moralizing remarks or make snide comments. 🤔

Personally, I do believe this is sort of a meta issue. I’ve talked about it a little bit before in a general post; how given his characterization, Johnny does not in my opinion talk as much as he should. In a more comedic example, I mentioned how could anyone honestly look me in the eye and say that Johnny wouldn’t have a comment on the guy with the exploding penis implant????  Like Johnny is majorly characterized as a guy who can’t leave well enough alone and always has something to say; yet theres a fairly large percentage of gigs and missions and moments where you’d think Johnny would have something to say and he doesn’t. There’s also times where lines are blatantly reused and in a jarring way.

Like, I could be wrong, but I think they reuse him saying “There it is” with both V getting Nibbles and a man committing suicide in a gig. Like????? 

Meta wise, I do think it’s partially a fear of over incorporating Johnny to the point players found him annoying. Because even now, some people find him irritating and wish he’d talk less. So, that could be a factor. The idea of not sidelining love interests is a factor of course. While, he has commentary through out each love interests questlines. He always does mostly bugger off during the romantic lead up and the actual kiss then sex. Because well, it might be a bit of a buzzkill and if you’re trying to get laid and Methed Out Future Keanu Reeves is yelling at you from the corner of the room. I mean, it’d probably enhance my experience but some people aren’t into that. 

As for why stuff like, him ignoring V getting zapped by the braindance in River’s quest. I’ve always thought that was ooc. Like, short of potentially the bd having fried him up for a bit, kinda like the emp blast does when V and Panam take down the AV. But overall, over and over again, Johnny is shown to be the first one there when V gets hurt. Even if its to yell at them for going into the toxic water or he waits a beat to appear once Panam is done looking over V. 

And that could be because they potentially again wanted to give more attention to River or... and I always hate to get into this sort of discourse, cause I know it aggravates some people. It was an oversight, something not caught, something not thought of, just because to be fair...River has the least polished questline of the love interests. The male love interests in general imo were sidelined more. But, River A) has the least amount of quests to build up to his romance, B) is the most easily missable love interest since he’s not even required to meet for the secret ending the way Kerry is. and C) this could just be my own personal experience, maybe cyberpunk 2077 provides unique bugs for everyone, but his quests are the buggiest for me.

And to be perfectly clear, this is not me being a dick to River. Do, I think some aspects of his character are kinda tone deaf, sure, but I like River. I think he’s a sweetheart, who’s usually pretty stiff, but has his cuter jokey moments and is a puppy dog underneath.  I love doing his quests because they’re truly very emotional, being able to help his family. Like, being able to save Randy is one of the best feelings in the game to me, knowing you saved him and so many other young boys. That’s why it honestly breaks my heart to see how little polish and attention his quests were given. From the calls glitching, him not staying on comms in the first quest, Johnny in my game doesn’t even give the dialogue warning my V about River wanting to sleep with her, like it just does not show up for me, The cobbled together family photo. The weird pacing of the romance that goes from 0 to a 100. Randy’s face glitches and clips through the mask when you’re saving him. Like the concept, the investigation, the intense stakes, and the emotional impact of his quest are all so good; but CDPR just did not in my opinion take enough time with it. 

So, maybe they didn’t bother to script and put Johnny in that scene despite it being something he’d most definitely pop in for; cause they just didn’t take their time with it like they could have/should have. 

And in regard to Johnny in universe and talking; while like I said he’s more upfront and direct with his anger and side comments that he uses to hide his real feelings. I do think, especially if its post oils field convo, a part of him tries desperately to bite his tongue and just sit with his feelings if he think its best for V. In the more love dovey romance moment with River, I could see him being like, “okay, V wants this, as much as it pisses me off, V deserves to have some good in their life” and tries to hold back and be good and then five seconds later “CANT BELIEVE YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME FUCK A COP” cause he can only behave for so long. 

And I do wanna note; I am by no means consider myself a Johnny Silverhand expert. I’ve said this before, his characterization and just him as a person can be very messy, very all over the place, and contradictory at times. He can try to kill V and then the next day pop up to chat with them in a diner and be like “why aren’t you happy to see me?????? you still mad?????? its been a whole ass 5 hrs since I told you to kill yourself and bashed your head into a window, gotta learn to let shit go dude.” So, sometimes I worry I’m making him ooc, but its fun nontheless, so. 

[oh-look-isa-weeb]

Fly Me to the Moon

Yuri Plisetsky

Celestial beings + royalty AU. You're the Night. He's the Moon. You're stuck together, whether you like it or not.

Notes: A longer post this time! I could have gone with a normal royalty AU but nooo, of course I didn't. I hope this turned out okay! Title is from a Frank Sinatra song of the same name. 

---------------

The Day is the bringer of the Sun; It surrounds it, and it holds the Sun up, just as the Sun brings the Day with it wherever it goes. They move and work together.

The Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is the contrast which allows the Moon to shine brighter, stretching endlessly behind the Moon, the herald to its beauty and grace.

You are the Heir of the Night, training tirelessly to prepare to take on the mantle of the Moon's Guardian, and you are tired.

No, seriously. If you have to hear about the union of the Sun and the Moon one more time, you're going to scream. You mutter exactly that to yourself, under your breath, as you walk through the training facility to your studio. To your surprise, someone replies.

"I know, right? It's gross. If I ever fall in love, hit me."

Who in the world…?

You spin around, coming face-to-face with sea green eyes and golden hair. The same eyes hair you would one day be sworn to protect. Before you stood Yuri Plisetsky, the Heir of the Moon. He didn't know who you were, but you certainly recognised him. After all, you'd been watching his progress since you were selected to become the Heir of the Night. Your life's work would be dedicated to his being.

Only after a split-second did he seem to realise that he had talked to another being, and that he was decidedly not alone. He spun around, glaring.

"Who are you? The hell are you doing here?"

I'm the only one allowed around here, you thought amusedly. You're the trespasser. You wondered if you could tell him that. Heck, what was stopping you? It would be nice to see the look on his face. 

"As a matter of fact, I'm the Heir of the Night. Also known as the person who'll be working with you closely for the entirety of your reign." You pause and shoot him a pointed look. "And the only person allowed in here, Mr. Trespassing Heir of the Moon."

Ah, the sweet satisfaction of watching someone's brain shut down. He sputters for a bit and turns ever-so-slightly pink, scrambling to come up with an excuse.

"If we're gonna work together, w- what's wrong with me being here anyway? I- It's not like I'm not some random civilian!" 

He pauses, and an oddly aged look crosses his features.

"I just- I needed somewhere to get away for a minute, okay? I would very much like to be able to breathe without those two advertising their relationship. And I don't want to go for class," He sighs. "I'll just go now."

Something about the way he says it resonates with you. Maybe it's the resigned tone in his voice, or the weary look on his face. And you understand, you really do. After all, you've been preparing to take up an equally important -- and equally heavy role. Sometimes you wanted an escape, too.

"Do you… Want to stay? And watch for a bit?"

He pauses and turns to look at you. He's trying to act nonchalant, shrugging casually with a "Sure,", but you see the way his shoulders sag a little, as if the tension was released, and his features smoothen out just a fraction. You tell him to make himself comfortable along the sides somewhere and begin running through your combat drills.

As it turns out, Yuri is a pretty courteous audience. He doesn't ask too many questions, and only does when you stop for breaks. At the end of your training session, you sit together, backs to the wall, and bask in companionable silence, taking a breather from the stress that your roles bring you. Finally, you prepare to leave the studio, locking up and exchanging farewells.

"Hey, uh, thanks for letting me stay. I think I needed that. I'll, uh, see you around. I hope."

"Well, we'll meet again eventually. Moon and Night and all that. Feel free to come back anytime, though."

He heads off in the other direction, waving as he walks away. 

You don't see him for a good month.

You don't know why. Did he get in trouble? Did he not want to return? Was he doing alright?

You'd just about given up seeing him until coronation day ever again, until one day you open the door to the studio to find it already unlocked.  You open the door anyway, paying it no mind, and promptly walk face first into something. Someone.

Yuri.

He grumbles about getting crashed into, mumbling a "Watch where you're going, moron" under his breath quietly, but he steps aside to let you in anyway. How did he get in? No, nevermind that, Lilia was coming in today. He shouldn't be here.

"My advisor's coming today. You should get out before you get caught."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head.

"Moron, did no one tell you? I bargained with Yakov. You're gonna teach me to fight, and I'll, well, they'll find something for me to teach you. Anyway, I'm meant to be here, stupid."

You gape at him as Lilia strides past you two and into the studio, thoroughly unimpressed at your expression. She tells you to "close your mouth, you are an Heir, not a fish", and she "certainly did not teach you to dawdle in doorways". You put your stuff down, but you have no clue where to begin. Teach someone? 

Lilia sighs. "The basics, girl, unless you want him to spend more time on his butt than his feet."

Right, you feel like an idiot now. Please let there be a hole to swallow you up. You gesture for Yuri to join you in the centre of the room, and slowly run him through warm-ups.

Over time, you fall into a routine. Some weeks, you teach Yuri to fight, and other weeks, he teaches you dance. Not just waltz, you know how to do that, but other forms of dance. Ballet. Tango. Flamenco. The macarena, because why not, although that was mostly a joke. You meet Yakov, his advisor, as well and the current Sun and Moon, Yuuri and Victor. Most importantly, you meet his cat, and his grandfather. Victor says it's wonderful that Yuri's friends with you. Yuri says he's too nosy.

As the time passes, you find yourself enjoying his company more and more. You realise that he's actually a kind person, even if he doesn't outwardly show it. And one day, you catch yourself thinking, he's really pretty.

When did you fall for him? You don't know. But as soon as you realise, you never stop realising. You're hyper-aware of everything he does. It frustrates you to no end. You're in the middle of a foxtrot with Yuri, and you can feel yourself flushing wildly. He frowns at you and stops.

"What's up with you? Why've you been so jumpy these days?" He presses a hand to your forehead. "Tch. You're not sick, are you?" You shake your head, but you can't quite meet his eyes.

Because the heat from your cheeks seems to have somehow fried your brain cells, you decide to throw all caution to the wind. You might also be too sleep-deprived to regret this.

"I- I LIKE YOU!" You blurt, before your common sense finally catches up to you and you clap a hand to your mouth. "Ah, sorry, you uh, heard nothing… Ahah…"

He gapes at you, and then he averts his eyes. Great, he totally thinks you're a weirdo. You've just messed up your relationship with the guy you're stuck working with for your entire career.

"I like you too, moron." It's so quiet you could swear you imagined it, but Yuri stands across from you, eyes on the ground, face as flushed as yours. It's your turn to gape at him, as he bites out a "What? Quit staring at me!", although you can tell there's no real heat to his words. 

"I'm glad," you hum, smiling gently as you extend a hand to him, a silent invitation to resume dancing. You let the music wash over you, losing yourself in the steps, and every time your eyes meet, there's a soft smile on his face.

Epilogue

You take your place on the dais next to Yuri, preparing to face the court for your coronation. You'd been there for him before this, through demanding days and insecurities. You'd seen him at his worst, in the days just after Victor announced he was stepping down as the Moon, helping him to fight off his self-doubt. You'd been there for Yuri, and as the new Night and Moon, you'll continue being by his side. As his guardian, but also as his betrothed.

Over the next week, there are ceremonies and festivities, including your wedding, which takes place on the last day. It's a whirlwind of crowds, carnivals, and dancing. You and Yuri have your first dance, the same foxtrot you had been dancing when you got together all those years ago, the same soft smile ever-present on his face, as if it's just you two in the ballroom, like it was back then.

Then the music changes to something more bold, and you charge at each other in a mock-battle, your movements dynamic and explosive, yet graceful, a testament to your proficiency in both combat and dance.

As the night progresses, your friends and family join you on the dance floor, laughing and mingling. There's not much actual dancing happening, but that's perfectly fine, because you're surrounded by loved ones. Someone starts a line dance at some point, and you get everyone who joins to do the macarena, just for laughs. You see Lilia rolling her eyes, but you laugh and pull her into the crowd to join you.

And at the end of the night, you're in the comfort of your room, Yuri by your side. He pulls you in for a sweet, languid kiss. This is the love of your life, the man you'll wake up next to every day for the rest of your life.

After all, the Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is by its side, always. It is the Moon's refuge, its home. It loves the Moon dearly, and the Moon loves it back.

[clearlyshyobservation]

Kokichi is dying (V3 chatfic, no particular ship)

TW: Infers abuse, talks about ableism, neglect, panic attack pretty much, depression, self loathing. never being good enough

i am so sorry but vr au's need to be sad, love yall :)

(Background info: This is set in a vr au, they are not with their fake memory parents (Ie; kaito's kind grandparents) but rather why they really have)

(Also i have no fucking clue what ship i was going for???? pretty sure they are all on the table, and kokichi talks like an idiot in this and i love it. Gonta's writing is based off of his Japanese talking style, so no more caveman talking).

USERNAMES:

(Space monkey: Kaito, Detective pikachu: shuichi, Elton john: kaede, Antman: gonta, Mr. Gonstealyoman: korekiyo, Atua's bitch: angie, emoboi: ryoma, be-boop: kiibo, bread roll: Maki, cum dumpster: miu, mommy: kirumi, Gremlin: Kokichi)

TLDR: Chaos ensues, slight angst

Gremlin: omfg im fucking sicK im gonna fucking die i bet this was kaitos bitch ass fault for coughing on me with his tuberculosis headass gROSSSSS I HATE EVERYTHINGGG

Space Monkey: i-

Space monkey: I didn't get you sick dumbass,,,, my tb is fugckin cured bi-

Bread roll: he's dramatic and gross dont believe him

Gremlin: yall mean for what?

Gremlin: i have a life taking disease and yall laughing i- 

Gremlin: see you at my funeral bitch

Detective pikachu: What are you sick with then

Gremlin: anythong bitch, im the universe

Antman: He sounds delusional, thats not good

Detective pikachu: He's always delusional, he's Kokichi

Mr. gonstealyoman: I guess this name is better than my old one

Mr. gonstealyoman: thank you kokichi :) I am glad we have come to an understanding

Gremlin: kay sexy

Gremlin: IGNRE WHAT I JUST SENT

Gremlin: IGNORE IT IGNORE IT IGNORE ITTTTT

Antman: who was that for???

Gremlin: NO ONE,,, 

Gremlin: Okay,,, maybe sexy tall men in general lowkey

Gremlin: okay,,,, maybe anyone over 6 feet 

Detective pikachu: i feel excluded

Detective pikachu: good, i don't like you kokichi, your an ass

Gremlin: u sound jelly shumaiiiiii

be-boop: perhaps he is telling the truth, you know,

be-boop: according to my data, in chapter four Shuichi stated that you will never have friends, and no one will ever like you

Gremlin: SHUT THE FUCK UP STOP MAKING ME FEEL BADBSKVKHDVKDSKJV

Antman: do you need me to come over? I can make you tea?

mommy: Do you know how to do that, Gonta? I can teach you?

Antman: Gonta does know, thank you very much. 

Antman: Gonta is not a child, Tojo-chan, please don't regard me as one

Antman: Gonta can cook, can clean, can be gentle, and has his own mind

Space monkey: but we're just making sure man, cuz, you know,,,, chapter 4

Antman: I am capable of things just like you!!!!!

Antman: Gonta doesn't know why you guys treat me like a child :(

Gremlin: yeah, hot stuff over there is basically a prodigy homies

Antman: Gonta is dumb though, don't say that.

Antman: Gonta is no prodigy, in fact, he is below average in everything

Gremlin: Whats ur test scores bitch

Antman: Gonta got a 98 on my english test,, but i wanted a 100, which would make Gonta actually smart :( 

Antman: Gonta is not good enough to be friends with you all

Antman: I can do basic stuff like tojo said...

Antman: maybe i do need help?

Antman: im not sure anymore:((((

Gremlin: THEY ARE ABLEIST GONTA,,, THEY FEEL SUPERIOR FOR TREATING UUUUU LIKE A CHILD

Detective pikachu: You sound really delusional Kokichi, maybe you should get sleep

Gremlin: S T F U, IM SPITTING ST8 FACTS BITCH

Detective pikachu: Sure you are. Now get some rest. 

Gremlin: GRRRR WHY WONT YOU LISTEN TO ME YOU IDIOTS??

Bread roll: Cause your stupid and aggressive

Gremlin: your personality, basically?

Bread roll: shut up at least i have a boyfriend

Gremlin: Technically, you just stole my frienemy 

Gremlin: Yall do be avoiding each other doe

Space Monkey: WE ARE NOT

Gremlin: Yeah yeah

Gremlin: yesterday i saw you to enter the same cafe by accident, duck your heads, then sit across the cafe from each other, all while  avoiding eye contact

Gremlin: Soooo,,, things not going well in paradise?

Detective pikachu: you're nosy

Gremlin: says the literal detective 

Space monkey: everythings fine your just a dickkkk

Gremlin: "oooo! Im momo-chan, i say bad word and go brrrrr"

Space monkey: im going to fucking stab him 

Gremlin: You cant, ive already enslaved you with my chaotic, yet cute hijinks, havent i~

Space monkey: STOP STOP NO NOT THE SQUIGLY

Gremlin: is it the sex? WHY DONT YOU MAKE EYE CNOTACT WITH UR LADY NO MORE 

Space monkey: ITS NOT THE SEX I HATE YOU

Gremlin: im free by the way at 8 ;)

Bread roll: STOP trying to steal my boyfriend kokichi, ive told you this before

Bread roll: NO

Bread roll: BODY

Antman: Gonta interrupts to say, Gonta loves you kokichi, and we should get flowers together, than maybe we can prank some people :D 

Bread roll: Ive never wanted to stab you more, gonta

Gremlin: I'd enjoy that very much, fine fellow ;)

Gremlin: but idk,,,, can you like take care of me first, cuz IM SICK BECAUSE OF KAITO TUBERCULOSIS ASS

Space monkey: I DONT HAVE TB ANYMORE

Gremlin: SURE YOU DONT 

Space monkey: I DONT

Gremlin:  BUT GUESS WHAT

Gremlin: YOU STILL SMOKE DUMBASS AND THATS NOT GOOD FOR U OR YOUR TUBERCULOSIS

Detective pikachu: He smokes?

Atua's bitch: he does, i walked in on him in the bathroom lmao

Atua's bitch: he was scared shitless and threw it out the window, needless to say atua does nt approve

Gremlin: DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE VACCINE????

Space monkey: Uh,,, i was taught vaccines were bad, so no i don't have the vaccine

Gremlin: I HATE OLD PEOPLE

Gremlin: ABOLISH OLD PEOPLEEEE

Gremlin: THEY SPREAD MISINFORMATION AND IT PHISCALLY HURTS ME TO SEEEEEE

Space monkey: your dramatic, it cant be that bad

Gremlin: say that when you catch it again

Gremlin: i swear you coughed on me like,,,, 5 weeks ago tho

Antman: OOOO! Fun fact: Tuberculosis can lay dormant from 3 months to a few years! 

Space monkey: u guys are just trying to scare me

Bread roll: Just checked the chat after using the br and,,m YOUDONT HAVE YOU VACCINES???

Detective pikachu: Im sorry, but kaito, please,,,,, for the love of god get vaccines

Space monkey: alright alright, ill do it cuz you guys are all on my case and i don't like being the villain :(

Gremlin: Im so happy i have gonta with me rn, he is making me tea while yall rot in your distant ass relationship (THIS IS FOR YOU KAITO)

Space monkey: Im going to destroy your bloodline in about three seconds if you dont stfu right fucking now

Gremlin: Hhehe i have an inaprwopwiate joke uwu

emoboi: STOP PLEASE DEAR GOD

cum dumpster: wHAt Is iT YOU WHORE

Gremlin: i was gonna say wouldn't he need to like,,,, have sex with my family to weed out my bloodline or something??

cum dumpster: i-

cum dumpster: Why am i acting surprised, ive watched porn with more extravagant plots than this

cum dumpster: ie; are you guys FUCKING? RIGHT INFRONT OF MY SALAD??? is one i will cherish with my soul

emoboi: hehe why did she point out the salad

Space monkey: I hate u kokichi, i truly do

Gremlin: I bet if you got the chance u would kiss me space boy :P

Bread roll has left the chat

Space monkey: o god is she ddoing one of those bf loyalty tests or smthing???

Space monkey: now im nervous lmao

Gremlin: why you so nervous stupid~~~~

Gremlin: It not like ur cheating on her homie

Space monkey: It's just a placebo effect

Gremlin: My brain feels fried Momo-chan,, i don't understand big boy words right now

Space monkey: Basically, if you take a pill that doesn't do anything but you don't know that and believe it does, you will scientifically start to feel better

Gremlin: first and only time saying this, but thank you 

Space monkey: HEHEHEB YOU SAID THANK YOU YOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOUYOU SAID THANK YOU

Gremlin: Kaito,,, imma need you to do me a favor and look up on your ceiling

Space monkey: i hate you, idk what it is, but i hte you

Gremlin: good <3

Space monkey: HE REPLACED ALL MY THE STARS ON MY CELING WITH FUCKIBG DICKSSS

Space monkey: THIS IS THE LST FUCKING STRAW IM GONNA LOSE IT

Space monkey: IF MY GRANDPARENTS SEE THIS BULLSHIT THEY ARE GOING TO KILL ME, SLAP ME, MAYBE BREAK MY NECK AND DESTROY MEE

Space monkey: Im GENUINLEY panicing HOW TF am i gona get this off my wal???? They are going to bbat me senselpess help me shUichi

Detective pikachu: o god, i can sense the sheer pain and scaredness in  that tet, 

Detective pikachu: are you for real gong to get hurt or are you pulling a kokichi?

Space monkey: FUCKING HELP ME IM NOT FUCKING JOKINGKABKCB HELP THEY ARE NOT HOME RN THEY ARE LIKEE,,,, 40 MINUTES AWAY PLEASEE 

Gremlin: okay,,, maybe this wasn't the best prank.,,, i guess i'll help clean up cuz im not that much of a sociopath

Gremlin: tbh my parents can go shove it too lowkey terrible 0/10 

Space monkey: AHHHH IM SO SCARED PLS PSL GET HERE FAST

be-boop: Of course, i will come, i will survey the outside of the house

Antman: Gonta is coming too! We will get this done in under 40 minutes!

Space monkey: OKAY

Gremlin: Lowkey, if i cough on you ignore it bitch your the one who made me like this

Space monkey: W HA TDONT COUGH ON ME IM NOT SICK ANYMORE

Gremlin: I will give you TB again just cuz your making me suffer

Space monkey: Suffer what??? putting dicks on my FUCKING WALL???

Gremlin: Guilt, idiot, im feeling guilty. 

cum dumpster: oof thats new

emoboi: yeah i wasn't expecting it

Mr.gonstealyoman: Me neither. It is rather peculiar seeing it being texted by him because he is always feels not guilty of his bad actions.

be-boop: I do believe he means it, though...

emoboi: impossible.

cum dumpster: i agree, literally impossible.

Gremlin: I HAVE A FUCKIBG SOUL YOU CRazY CONSPIRACISTS

Antman: Quick question, shuichi can i stay with you again? It'll be dark when i get home and gonta can't do that so,,, please help

Detective pikachu: my parents are like blank slates, who eat slowly, watch tv slowly, and never look at me. Im sure they wouldn't mind :P

Antman: ALRIGHT! :D LETS GET MISSION: MR. MOMOTA ROOM REPAIR DONE!

Gremlin: ooo! I like the name! IM INNNN! 

Detective pikachu: On it!

be-boop: Ready for look out!

Space monkey: I love you guys :)

AN: Im lowkey sorry i ended this chaotic mess with angst,,,, but like fr i love it i love angst,, i hate reading it but love writing it

[miqojak]

Layers Upon Layers

one: outside layer

[Name:] "Jak." [Hair Style & colour:] "Black and orange. I wear it pulled back and braided." [Eye Color:] "Gold and jade green." [Height:]  "Fuck if I know exactly. Under five fulms." (4'9") [Style:] "Depends on the day. Maybe the hour. Leather and mini-skirts are always a good bet, though. Sometimes a nice suit, sometimes my bike gear, sometimes a little something more form-fitting, elegant and gilded - 'desert chic', I suppose." [Best Physical Feature:] "Definitely my ass...though my legs cut it close, on that one. What do you think?"

two: inner layer

[Fears:] "You ask that and actually expect people to tell you?" (Small/enclosed spaces with no readily available exit, levin, Garleans, people getting too close to her/seeing who she really is) [Guilty Pleasure:] "People feel guilty for what they like? Who's going to judge me, the sheep who can't come up with a single original thought of their own, and feel guilty if they do?" [Biggest Pet Peeve:]  "Biggest...that's tough, actually. Probably blithe optimism, or naivete. People too ignorant, or unwilling to ask questions and look deeper - or those simply unwilling to face hard truths. There can never be any growth if you aren't honest with yourself, after all. Unmotivated slackers. If you have no goals, why are you wasting this star's air?" [Ambition for the Future:] "To be feared and respected in equal measure. I've been pushed around for a long time, and now it's my turn."

three: thoughts

[First Thought When Waking Up:] "Probably...my to-do list for the day? That or wondering what the weather is like, and whether or not I'll be going on my usual morning run or be stuck working out indoors. That or 'Huh, they haven't killed us all yet.'" [What You Think About the Most:] "What my next step is in life - how I want to pursue that power I'm after without compromising who I am...and how the fuck I ended up with someone who actually cares about me in my life while distinctly trying to avoid that type of thing...and why he stuck around. I wonder about the 'why' a lot." [What You Think About Before Bed:] "Depends on the day, and what's happened, and if I'm headed there alone. If I'm not alone, it's probably something to the effect of 'I still can't believe he wants to be here/wants me to be here'. And whether or not I'm alone...there's always the nagging, ugly reminder that Garlemald's towers sit hunched in the sky, ready to end everything for everyone - predator and prey alike. It could be the last night for any of us." [Your Best Quality Is:] "My ass. But other than that...well, I'm honest, and my loyalty can't be bought. I'm not a good person, but I have my own...'code', in a sense, I guess."

four: what’s better

[Single or Group Dates?] "Group dates sound like a punishment. I can barely stand the slack-jawed idiots around me as it is. Though undoubtedly the punishment would be upon the others, considering who my date would be, and the fact that we'd probably spend the time verbally destroying the other couple." [To be Loved or to be Respected?] "Respected. Love without respect is horrifying. I've been there, I've suffered it, and I'm still recovering. But I still...don't know that I believe in love. At least not how most people do, I guess. Love makes people do stupid shit when they believe in it. Respect doesn't. Respect can stand alone, without needing love. Respect has to be earned. There's no claims of 'respect at first sight.' But like I said...love without respect is...ugly. Scary, even." [Beauty or Brains?] "Both, or no deal. Brains are essential, but I can't have a walking pile of dogshit on my arm, now can I?" [Cats or Dogs?] "Neither, I don't do pets - animals are food. But...I suppose I'd say dogs, though you'd probably incorrectly assume cats, based on the fact that I resemble one. But...there's been more 'canines' in my life in the last year or two than I care to recall."

four: do you…

[Lie?] "No. Not unless the situation is dire - my morals don't matter if my life is on the line. Survival comes first always." [Believe in Yourself?] "Much more than I used to. I've accomplished, and survived, more than most could even begin to imagine." [Believe in Love?]  "Not...really? Maybe? Though I'll admit that for all my vehement denial in the past, someone has made me re-examine my emotions in the last half a year or so. I don't think I believe in the sort of 'love' that the general public believes in. I had someone force his fairy tale romance down my throat and do me a lot of harm both physical and mental with those ideals, as he forced me to be someone I wasn't. If adhering to what society expects of love is all that someone cares about - hitting the expected gestures as told in fairy tales? That's about as real as a fever dream. I don't like the word 'love'. Not what it's come to be associated with, and what's expected of you along with it." [Want Someone?] "For the first time in my life...yes. Not that I don't 'have' him as much as I can claim such, but when he's not around, I find that I want him to be. So...yes?"

six: have you ever…

[Been on Stage?] "No? I mean, my organization does run a jazz club, and it's been various theaters before that, and I've...sat on the stage, basked in the spotlight of an empty theater? I prefer to be...less in the actual spotlight, however." [Done Drugs?] "I've only been clean and sober for...maybe a year now? So yeah. I've...done a lot of drugs." [Changed Yourself to Fit In Somewhere?] "I've been a con-artist to put food on the table, but I don't believe in changing who you are to 'fit in.' If you don't fit in...you don't fit in. You are who you are. Being anything else is a lie, and does you a disservice. It's also a pathetic cry for attention - for the other bleating sheep to accept you into their herd. I won't debase myself to 'fit in' with my lessers."

seven: favorite

[Favorite Color:] "Black, white, gold, and red. I don't have just one." [Favorite Food:] "Once more, I don't have just one. I like red meat, I like seafood, and I enjoy rolanberries quite a bit. Of late, I think my current favorite snack is takoyaki though - this fried dough ball with octopus inside...just thinking about it makes my mouth water." [Favorite Game:] "Breaking and entering."

eight: age

[When Your Next Birthday Will Be:] "No idea." [How Old Will You Be?] "No clue. I'm...twenty and four summers, roughly...give or take a couple." [Age You Lost Your Virginity:] "Care to lose yours to one of my knives, here?" [Does Age Matter?]  "Should it? I suppose I'd be a bit baffled to see an old geezer with a hot young thing, but even so...who cares? I haven't exactly had a lot of lovers, but I don't think I ever asked any of them their age. So long as people stay the fuck away from kids, it's a non-issue in my opinion."

nine: in a partner

[Best Personality:] "An unflinching realist who not only faces the truth, but deals it out themselves. Ambition, and the ability to be honest with themselves about who they are." [Best Eye Colour:]  "Who gives a shit? If I find them worthwhile, I'll like their eyes, I assure you." [Best Hair Colour:] "Who's out here checking people off a list because their hair is the wrong color? I mean, after some shit I went through, I might not want to ever see another red-head again, but realistically...who gives a single fuck? I think you're asking the wrong questions here. People often do - too busy dwelling on lust at first sight." [Best Thing to do With a Partner:] "Murder? Crime in general? ...Or a hot bath."

ten: finish the sentence

[I Love…] ...I just told you I don't do love. But...I do love the sun." [I Feel…] everything at once, or nothing at all, it seems." [I Hide…] who I am." [I Miss…] my family." [I Wish…] ...wishes are for simpletons. Actions achieve what you want." Thanks for the tag: @eligos-venator @placesyoucallhome @bek-sc @sundered-souls (I think I found you all who tagged me!)

I am late to this party! Tag yourselves if you want to do it, so I can read your stuff! I feel like most folks have done it, and I'm too brain-dead atm to root around in the bowels of Tumblr to see who hasn't, since I'm many days late! XD

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.12

Alice in Wonderland

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)   x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3500

Summary: The cat’s outta bag and ‘Nat’ really isn’t sure she likes it. Perhaps she prefered it the other way around. There’s a lot more emotions in the air now.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, amnesia, swearing, bit of a metafiction, mentions of tumblr-like sites ;) ...and possibly messed up format

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Sam and Dean seemed more than a bit dumb-struck when you finally emerged from the bathroom, which had you shift uncomfortably. Now they were looking at you like the rest of the café and wasn’t that just perfect. You were regretting choosing to dress like the Winchesters now; maybe that was why people here kept staring at you. Except it didn’t explain why Dean and Sam were staring too all of sudden.

Despite their expressions, Sam shook his head as if snapping from some kind of daze, his eyes again displaying concern for your well-being, asking about it. To be fair, it was a very valid question.

“Hey. You okay?”

No. “Yeah. Just… dunno. The staring doesn’t make me feel good,” you muttered, taking the seat next to Sam.

It was only partly the truth. While you didn’t have any solid lead on your soulmate, being here, possibly closer to him… it made you as excited as nervous. Restless, definitely.

“Well, it helped a lot,” Sam announced, sounding almost cheery. It got you shift your gaze to stare at him, your expression no doubt as puzzled as you felt at such statement. Huh?  Sam smiled softly. ”We might have found your soulmate.”

“Really?!” you yelped, quickly covering your mouth when you realized how loud your voice went. But frankly, you didn’t care much about that. Because… WHAT?! When? How? “How is that possible?”

Sam’s gaze travelled to the counter, where the orange-haired girl who had welcomed your trio was smiling your direction subtly. You lowered your eyes, your mind racing. What did that woman had to do with it? Had you known her? From… before? Did she know your soulmate?

“Yeah. He’s Captain America,” Dean dropped the bombshell bluntly.

You saw clearly that they expected you to have a flash of recognition in your eyes at least, but it wouldn’t come. You had no clue what they were talking about. Was that some kind of a… special army rank? Or… a stage name for an artist or something?

God, you hoped it wasn’t a stripper’s name.

That idea made blood rush into your cheeks, only a dumbfounded noise leaving your mouth.

“Huh?”

“Right,” Sam cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. It took your eyes from slightly disappointed Dean.

“He’s a superhero-“

What.

“-he kinda is around hundred now-“

WHAT. ‘Kinda?’ What did that even mean?

“-so that would explain the… peculiar soulmark you have. But don’t worry, he doesn’t look hundred, he isn’t really, it’s complicated…”

Nope, still not following.

A superhero? your mind echoed again, not even the tiniest bit helpful. Kinda hundred, but not really…?

“Anyway, even the way you were when Cas brought you in? It all checks out with the story. Even the last name you picked. His name is Steve Rogers,” Sam added, his voice dropping in both volume and tempo, seeing your brain momentarily fried.

You stared blankly ahead, trying to process all the new information you were given, letting it merge with what you had already knew – which wasn’t much. Sweet ‘doll’ caressed your ears, Dean’s joke about time-travel and a mafioso kind of soulmate, about Rowena talking the strong bound with the man you had met but hadn’t met.

You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes and how long you had remained quiet until a warm hand landed on your shoulder, Sam’s voice calling out your given name.

That was funny, wasn’t it? You chose Natasha, not knowing why. But you also chose Rogers – because clearly, that was your soulmate’s name. A soulmate who was sort of hundred years old and a superhero.

You blinked your eyes opened, still unable to let the supposed facts sink in.

“Nat? You okay there?” Dean joined his brother in mother-henning you and you couldn’t help but try and charm a slight smile on your lips at their care.

Sam gently squeezed your shoulder to ground you.

“I… I guess. It’s just…I-- … a lot. This is a lot. I’m… I’m not sure I get it,” you stuttered finally. Judging by their expressions, they didn’t trust you that you were okay, but didn’t push you. It was a lot to process. How was such thing even possible? “You really need to explain further. What even made you think I’m some… superhero’s soulmate?”

“We will explain it all,” Sam promised, removing his hand only to motion toward the latté and cake on the table. Why was here a cake? And why only one? Was this about Dean making you eat more again? You didn’t even need an answer. “But first, eat. Then we might have a trip.”

You honest to god would have raised the tea spoon to start eating, but his Sam’s later words had you frozen in mid-motion. A trip?

“To where? To find this… Steve Rogers? You know where he lives?” you blurted out, shocked. The sinking feeling in your stomach, the nerves working, nudged you intently.

“Yeah. Kinda. Though maybe we could stop by in a church first.”

You frowned at Dean, your confusion spiking. Was there anything at all that actually made a freaking sense?!

“A church? Why?”

“To light a candle for you,” Dean hummed, almost indifferent as if he was talking about weather and not about visiting your grave or whatever.

“…what?” you squeaked, earning an eye-roll.

“Just eat, Nat.”

Right. They probably knew your actual name now. That was why Dean made the point of… articulating it so pointedly.

Upon that, you dug into the cake obediently. Something told you that you’d need that sugar rush.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

It was a good thing that Dean had forced you to eat first; if you had been eating when being shown the pictures of Steve Rogers, you would have choke to death and that would be embarrassing. Not to mention ironic.

Sam was introducing the man known as Captain America in a hushed voice, clearly not wanting to attract attention. He explained that the man was the Second World War hero (what?) and how he had become one.

You saw a black-white picture that had been taken around 1942, showing a handsome light-haired man, maybe too skinny and short, but with a determined spark in his eye, lop-sided soft smile gracing his lips. For some reason, a warm feeling pooled around your heart – he looked adorable. A man would probably punch you if you told him he was that, but it was how you felt.

The very same year, only few days later, actually, had been taken another photo. You could tell it was the man still, but he was… bigger. Like… bigger. You weren’t sure you were buying the fact that some sort of a serum had made him like this, but… angels were a thing. So you didn’t voice your disbelief.

You did though when Sam got to the pictures of him in a ridiculous costume – and there it was, Captain America being his stage name. You were quickly explained that his performing to raise money for weapons had been a very short-lived gig. He had soon earned the rank of a Captain for real.  

You couldn’t believe your eyes when the current pictured appeared. Steve Rogers, who had apparently been trapped in ice for seventy years, still looked the same and was still saving the world.

It was too much.

It had become too much about half an hour ago.

You stared at the device in your hand, a close-up picture of the man in question on the display, the very same spark you had seen in the old picture of him pre-serum now flashing in beautiful blue eyes.

He was a special breed of a man from what you saw and heard and for some reason, Sam and Dean believed your soulmark led to him.

How?  

“That’s… you think… you think that this is my soulmate?” you whispered, voice weak, laced with uncertainty. Hell, doubt even.

How could this be?

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, a playful smirk playing on his face as he lost the let’s-break-it-to-her-slowly attitude. “That’s what we said. What, you’re not into blonds?”

You scoffed, resisting the urge to massage your temples, suddenly bone-tired, a headache starting to build.

“That’s not… are we seeing the same pictures?”

“I sure hope so,” Sam noted, head tilted to side in confusion, begging you to elaborate even without words.

“He’s… just look at him. And he’s some kind of a hero, a superhero? Again or… still? How could a guy like him be paired with someone like me?”

Was this man even real? You weren’t sure about it. If he was, there was no way you were his soulmate. Right? That would be insane.

“I’m not even sure what that means and what to say to that,” Dean replied, his brows knitting together. You were confident he knew exactly what you meant. “Just… look, we have a video evidence-“

“I beg your pardon?!” you squealed, jumping in your seat and tossing the tablet to Sam’s hands.

“Not like that!” the taller man chimed in instantly and you gripped at your chest, your heart beating rapidly under your palm. Christ. You having certain kind of video evidence online was really the last thing you needed – or even wanted to know. “It’s from when you… died, well alright, when you were killed… it was sorta by a supervillain? He broadcasted the whole thing to every channel in US. There’s a footage of you… dying and Captain here running to your rescue. Would you- eh, would you like to see it?”

I bet you would prefer the porn kind of evidence now, a low solemn voice mocked you in your head, while your ears started ringing, your stomach making somersaults, your head pounding.

“I… I don’t know. Definitely not- not here.” And now.

Or, you know, ever.

Sam and Dean nodded in sync, expressions solemn all of sudden. They slowly rose from their seats so you followed their suit. You weren’t you sure wanted to or that your trusted your body to stand upright without passing out; however, you chose to trust the brothers to catch if your brain suddenly decided this was even more than too much and you’re sending your body vessel to the ground.

It didn’t feel like you had a choice anyway.

…

As they gathered their belongings, none of them saw their barista smile for herself and being nudged by her friend. The orange-haired girl smirked, but couldn’t keep her excitement contained. She spilled the beans about the woman; along with the fact that two days ago, she had already seen them all coming here.

That shit happened when one was a psychic after all.

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Sam and Dean decided to take a walk; more precisely, Sam had made the decision and dragged Dean away in a way that was everything but subtle. You didn’t pay any mind to that as they left you in the car with a burner phone (a gift from Dean that earned the man an appreciating look from Sam) and the tablet to go down the rabbit hole – whatever that meant. It kinda felt like it though, surfing through the net again.

First, you learned your actual name. It felt almost foreign, you had got used to Nat now, but it still had an air of it being right and you knew it was the truth.

Only then, you watched what Sam prepared for you.

The so-called video evidence caused tears to fill your eyes, soon flooding down your cheeks.

There was no faking it. There was no doubt it was you strapped to the chair. There was no doubt it was your soulmate’s voice, even when modified by the unclear record – you had heard this voice in your dreams. There was no doubt that what you heard in his words was a desperation worth losing a person he loved.

Seeing your fear and resignation-filled expression had you known that once you had felt the same about him. There was no mistaking that at least part of the fear was for him as he rushed towards the bomb instead of sprinting away to save his own skin.

A pain so sharp it made you gasp expanded in your chest, burning sensation on your skin for a fraction of second and you had to wonder if it was the last memory of your past life. Being blown up.

You had been blown up. And your soulmate witnessed it. What a twisted way to go.

What a twisted way to return, echoed in your skull and if you hadn’t been already pre-occupied with the record, you might ask heavens why you were brought back from death.

But you weren’t sure you wanted to know anyway.

To take your mind off the horrifying pictures flashing behind your eyelids, you searched the web again in attempt to find anything else.

And there was a whole new rabbit hole to find.

People indeed lighted candles for you, built altars with what you assumed was a picture of you; there were all around the United States, but mostly in New York City, near places where the explosives had been planted, where many people would have died if Captain America ran for your rescue first.

It only brought fresh tears to your eyes.

Fanfiction was a new concept to you – but what wasn’t these days. You read a few summaries, very few stories which focused on Steve after your death. It was so surreal.

Some plotlines had Steve Rogers die in the battlefield soon after losing you, often including your souls reuniting in Heaven. Those were beautiful, but also incredibly sad. Others had you resurrected somehow – which… good guess, whoever wrote that. You weren’t confident the reunion would go that smoothly though. Or, well, that passionately, as in jumping-to-bed-with-him good. All of those had a ‘fix-it’ tag. The amount of hits with those was dizzying.

Another tag that caught your eye was ‘dark!CaptainAmerica’ and dark!SteveRogers’ ; naïve, not knowing what it meant, you read summaries at least. It had your insides clench in the worst possible way, reading about the clearly good-natured man turning into a twisted stalker, sometimes even a rapist, in better cases a guy looking for a mindless fuck each night. When the element of the stalked girls looking like you joined in, you had to leave the site.

It was simply too much.

Hoping to move on, you went to click on something else entirely.

There was a website dedicated to… peculiar offers, suggestion to the hero. Basically, many people were offering to suck captain’s sorrows through his-- yeah. Sometimes, the posts were accompanied by naughty pictures and it made you ridiculously angry on both captain’s behalf and yours (not that you would ever admit it, because there was no way you were jealous, right?).

It was almost a relief to read some posts from people who had lost their soulmates too and simply were looking for a new connection. Was that how it worked? Was this what people did, drowning their sorrows together? Did it work? Was there someone who caught the captain’s eye? Or was he hoping to meet his soulmate, having a new set of marks like she – possibly you – did? He must have, right?

You shook your head and sighed, absentmindedly going through some comments on what was called Tumblr. A long post with many reactions caught your attention and you had decided to read it, rather not trying to figure out what exactly possessed you to do so when many things seen today had already made you sick from your stomach.

He used to come to our coffee shop sometimes. I was trying to woman up and flirt with him for weeks. Never got to it and now I’m kinda glad. One day, he didn’t order and just sat there, clearly waiting for someone – and looked super-impatient, I swear he was tapping his foot. I didn’t call him out on it despite how annoying it was. I couldn’t even tell him to order or get out – try to say that to a national icon! And then… then she came in. You know, I read a lot of chickflics, not gonna lie. But for the first time, I actually saw someone looking at another person as if ‘they hung the moon’. Seriously. He had hearts in his eyes. I would wish everyone to find themself a better half that looks at them like that. She wasn’t any different, but that’s implied – she was dating a gorgeous man and a hero on top of that. They were so obviously in love and while they were polite all the way – that woman was super-nice, alright, – it was clear the rest of the world disappeared when they were together. Just wanna say: stick your disgusting offers to cure his heart by sucking his D to your arse. That man is mourning the woman he clearly loved with his whole heart and he has every right. I want to thank him for the lives he saved. I want to thank her for not spending their last moments yelling accusation to his face to make him feel guiltier than he already had, no doubt. I hope her soul is in a good place and one day, they will reunite. Rest in peace, sweetie. I hope you get see the way he was looking at you every day.

→  Amen, sister.

→ That’s equally heart-warming and heart-breaking. Poor girl. Poor guy.

→ Has anyone actually seen him outside since it happened? I hope he’s handling it. As much as a person can.

→ So what? You think he should just be alone for the rest of his live? Grow up, girl. Guy needs to get laid on regular basis. And yes, I’d gladly offer when given the opportunity.               → Jeez. She didn’t say anything like that. But it’s kinda soon to get laid, don’t you think?               This is clearly a note exactly for people like you. Let the poor guy have his peace. Let him               mourn and come to terms with what happened before offering him a BJ. Excuse me while I               go throw up…

→ God let her rest in peace indeed. My daughter was at school at the time, few feet from one of the bombs. She’s alive and well. I won’t forget this woman, ever.

→ Can we talk about how a person can date Captain America and be actually a nice person, not bragging all the freaking time? Like, even I might gain a superiority complex or something tbh.               → I hear you. Same.

→ She sounds cool. Seems like they were amazing together. Life can suck. RIP.

→ This is so sweet and heart-breaking I’m crying.

The person writing the last comment wasn’t alone in their misery, having their heart breaking and warmed up at the very same time. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes and you vainly tried to blink them away as you sniffled and covered your mouth with your palm to muffle your sob.

You gave up then. You tossed the tablet on the driver’s seat and hid your face in your palms, letting the tears stroll down your cheeks as your loud sobs filled the car.

You had no actual reason to cry, you reasoned with yourself, but it was all in vain. The many confusing and overwhelming emotions swirling in you finally found a proper out – and it was in the form of salty waterfalls on your face.

So be it. God knew that good cry might be exactly what you needed. Better now than in front of your soulmate.

Something told you it wouldn’t be too hard to find him.

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“Well. You look like shit,” Dean exclaimed when he opened the door, effectively causing you a heart-attack. Your tense shoulders slumped and you melted into the seat, looking up at him with your no doubt red-rimmed eyes.

Still, his compassionate eyes somehow smiled at you, warm and open and you couldn’t help attempting a smile in return. You were the luckiest girl on Earth to be taken care of by them.

Thank God for Sam and Dean.

Or thank angels? One in particular? You didn’t know and perhaps you never would.

“Thanks, Dean. You know how to sweet-talk a girl,” you rasped, blowing your nose in an unladylike manner (not caring).

“Ha! Sassy mouth is back. Sam, she’s good!”

Sam peeked to the car, his tall form nearly bending in half to do so. He offered you an apologetic expression along with a ‘hi’ and a pointed look at his brother, but you mouthed it was alright. Dean actually lifted your spirit.

“So… what now?” you asked in a small voice, which caused the brothers to exchange a look.

“Well. Two things. First, we have lunch-“

“Not really hungry, honestly-“ you interrupted Dean, only for the younger brother to interject.

“A small lunch then, even if it’s only the cake you had earlier,” Sam offered with a wink which would have made you laugh, because health-freak Sam suggested a cake for lunch, but you were dreading the second step in their plan.

“And then?”

Instinctively, you knew the answer. It was the writing on the wall, really, the only logical step. The cause of the knot in your stomach of which you weren’t sure was nerves, nausea or excitement.

Dean confirmed your suspicion of course.

“Then we go to the Avengers Tower to find America’s sweetheart.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 13

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Thank you for reading! 

We really are getting close now, aren’t we? :)) Yay?

P.S. - if anyone wants on the taglist - or out - shoot me a dm or an ask, it’s (usually) no problem :))

[angelofthequeers]

One Brain Cell Between Three People

 Rating: T

Summary: Or: five times these disaster humans had to disguise themselves and the one time they didn't.

Slot: 2.5k+ fic.

Written for an anonymous donor for the @mlbforblm drive, with all profits going right to Color of Change! I hope you love these disasters! The response to the drive was absolutely overwhelming, and I’m touched to have been commissioned for it!

AO3 link

1. From an akuma

“So, Ladybug!” Chat Noir says brightly. “If you’ve got any brilliant plans to get us up to Sauron out there, I’m sure we’d love to hear them!”

Ryuuko doesn’t have a clue who Sauron is, nor how it relates to the massive tentacled monster with one gigantic red eye that’s resting on the tip of the Eiffel Tower. They’ve tried coming from all angles, but the akuma’s eye seems to have a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree field of vision, because it always sees them coming and bats them away as easily as swatting mosquitoes.

“Why do I have to come up with the plans?” Ladybug grumbles. Chat Noir’s cheeky grin widens.

“Because you’re the brains, milady, and I’m just the humble clown.”

“Your brain was working just fine against Miracle Queen!”

Ryuuko tunes out their banter as she peeks around the corner of the wall behind which they’re hiding. Her brain leaps from idea to idea like arcs of lightning, zapping each one to a crisp when she picks out the flaws, because all of them rely on not being seen and there’s no way to accomplish that against this akuma. It seems to have flawless superhero senses, because it always sees right past the terrified civilians to pick out the superheroes –

Wait…

“I have an idea,” Ryuuko announces. Her teammates’ banter immediately dissipates. “The akuma is ignoring anyone who isn’t directly working against it. It’s almost like it just wants to keep surveillance on everyone.”

“You could say it wants to keep an eye on people,” Chat Noir says cheerfully. Ladybug sighs and facepalms.

“Low-hanging fruit, kitty,” she mutters. Ryuuko just raises an eyebrow and waits for them to finish.

“If we want to get close, we need to not be what it’s looking for,” she says.

“Like sneaking into Le Grand Paris disguised as a pizza delivery person because that’s not what Chloé Bourgeois is expecting you to be even though she knows you’re trying to get back something she stole from you?” Ladybug says. Chat Noir blinks.

“That’s, uh…incredibly specific,” he says. “And I’m not sure I want to know why. You were saying, Ryuuko?”

Unlike Chat Noir, Ryuuko does want to know the context behind Ladybug’s very specific example, because it’s exactly the kind of thing that Marinette would do. The thought of her girlfriend brings a small smile to her lips, just as when she thinks about her boyfriend Adrien. It’s a pity they aren’t superheroes, to be honest; they’d be fantastic, but Ryuuko’s not in any position to make suggestions, so she keeps this to herself.

“Different,” Ryuuko finally manages to say. “We need to not look like superheroes.”

“Disguises!” Ladybug jumps from foot to foot. “I’m so good with disguises! I’ve snuck into the hotel! And a party everyone threw for the guy I liked who’s now my boyfriend since I wasn’t allowed in for being a girl –”

“Why, milady, if your boyfriend didn’t recognise you beneath your strong disguise, he can’t be that much of a keeper,” Chat Noir says.

“My boyfriend is very much a keeper, thank you very much!” Ladybug huffs. “He’s one of the smartest people I know! Apart from Ka – uh, my girl –”

“Akuma,” Ryuuko interjects. Ladybug and Chat Noir jump.

“Right! Akuma!” Ladybug unslings her yo-yo. “There was a costume store on the next street over! For disguises!”

Getting to the store takes far longer than it should, but since there’s a giant eye in the sky, Ryuuko’s sure they could be forgiven for having to be extra slow and cautious. Once Ladybug’s shut the doors behind them and dragged over a chair for good measure, the three of them get to work browsing the multitudes of costume clothing and accessories to find the best pieces to conceal their most obvious features.

“I wish all akumas could be this fun,” Chat Noir beams as he tries on a cowboy hat. “They’re all get out there, get the crap beat out of us, milady comes up with an amazing plan, we’re done. Not that I don’t love the times I get to see Ladybug, of course.”

“I know what you mean,” Ladybug says. Ryuuko slaps a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles at the sight of Ladybug, hero of Paris, wearing a massive blue feather boa and round glasses. “We’ve been doing this for so long that it’s become…monotonous, you know? The only real variety is my Charm.”

“Not the akumas?” Ryuuko says as she selects a long blonde wig, then shudders and replaces it after a moment. Too similar to Chloé Bourgeois. And while they might both be rich girls with mother issues, Ryuuko refuses to think of herself as anything like that spoilt brat, especially after the stunt she’d pulled as Miracle Queen.

Okay, so Ryuuko doesn’t actually remember that, and Chloé does apparently have some semblance of a heart, but still. Ryuuko’s not known for her forgiveness, especially with how much nastier Chloé’s been since that incident.

“Milady! Milady!” Chat Noir yanks out a ladybug-patterned onesie. “I could be you!”

Ladybug snorts. “In your dreams, kitty. You could never be me.”

“But I was once!” Chat Noir tilts his head like a curious kitten would. “Remember?”

“Yes, and you were just amazing at it,” Ladybug says dryly.

“You weren’t any better, Lady Noire!”

“Excuse me? I was perfect!”

“Explain the Cata – uh, power mess-up, then!”

“I still had to figure out the Luc – the Charm!”

“And I could’ve told you not to dust the sentimonster!”

Ryuuko just ignores their arguing this time. Maybe it’s better for them to get it out now, so that they’re focused when facing the akuma. She loses track of time as she sifts through the costumes, wondering why she’s even being so picky in the first place since it’s just to disguise herself from an akuma. Then again, Kagami Tsurugi would never be caught dead in a clown costume, even as Ryuuko. Maybe it’s a good thing to have more refined tastes.

“Hey, guys!” Ladybug says. Ryuuko turns to see Ladybug picking up a large box, having dumped its contents on the ground, and she grins and drops it over her head. “Look, I’m a bug in a box! The perfect disguise! He’ll never know it’s me under here!”

“Come on!” Marinette’s whisper is marred by giggles as she holds out boxes to Adrien and Kagami. “Let’s hide from your bodyguard in these! He’ll never know it’s us under here!”

In that moment – by the silliest way possible – Ryuuko suddenly knows. Now there’s a name to the face beneath the scarlet mask; the face with the bright blue eyes and freckles, framed by pigtails – pigtails! – and currently wearing the same silly smile that Ryuuko has seen a thousand times as Kagami and looks forward to seeing a thousand times more.

Oh, it’s too bad that she can’t tell Adrien that he’s dating Ladybug. His massive superhero crush on her is more obvious than the fact that there’s next to nothing in that pretty head of his. Actually, that’s not fair; Adrien is very smart, but he’s also one of the densest people that Kagami has ever met. Being with him is just like working with Chat Noir, who’s got a very sharp mind when it’s needed –

“Does this make me the Chat in the Hat?” Chat Noir says as he dons a top hat and Ladybug’s laughter grows louder.

– but is also far more of an idiot than anyone has the right to be. It’s a wonder that poor, bi Kagami didn’t trip over herself around Chat Noir like she did with Ladybug, considering how similar he is to Adrien –

Ryuuko freezes. No. No way. There’s no way all three of them could be that lucky; that Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, were pining for each other this whole time, that Ryuuko fell for the two people who happened to be the heroes of Paris, that there’s a reason why Chat Noir showed her so much care after she was Oni-Chan and why Ladybug was so sweet and understanding of her failures as both Kagami and Ryuuko –

“– something picked out, Ryuuko?” Ladybug’s – Marinette’s – voice pierces the fog that’s descended on Ryuuko and shrouded her thoughts with realisation after realisation as she combs through every memory of her interactions with them. “I mean, this has been really fun, but we probably should get back to doing actual superhero things.”

Ryuuko takes a deep breath to ground herself. She’s far better trained than this; she shouldn’t allow herself to be so distracted during a mission. “Yes, I’m ready,” she says and grabs the first armful of cloth and accessories that she can find. She can fall apart later. Right now, she has a job to do, and she’s not going to let her partners down.

2. From Paris

Kagami loves her boyfriend and girlfriend. She really does. But there are times where she wonders if being with them is worth the constant emotional turmoil that they always seem to put her through.

“The fattoush looks good,” says Adrien, who’s seated across from Kagami. The fact that he’s wearing a hideous straw brim hat and sunglasses so appalling that they would give his father an aneurysm on the spot is the source of Kagami’s current agony. “But I’m tempted to go for the kibbeh, just because Father would die if he knew that I was eating something fried.”

“Do it,” Marinette says immediately. Kagami’s pain is compounded by the fact that her girlfriend is wearing a pair of glasses with a large fake nose and moustache attached, along with a sickeningly horrible pink poncho. But then again, for a budding fashion designer to wear something so awful? Maybe she’s smarter than Kagami had first thought.

Of course she is, says a traitorous little voice in Kagami’s brain. She’s Marinette. She’s Ladybug. But even being Ladybug isn’t enough to save her from Kagami’s judgement. Why couldn’t Adrien and Marinette have just worn an oversized hoodie like she did?

Okay, so it’s Adrien’s oversized hoodie, and the smell of him envelops her like a warm hug whenever she ducks her face down beneath the collar, but still.

“Done,” Adrien says and slams his menu down. The couple at the next table over stare at him, but his disguise seems to work because they might think he’s a weirdo, but they don’t appear to think that he could be Adrien Agreste. “What about you, Gami?”

As always, Kagami’s insides flutter at Adrien’s use of his and Marinette’s nickname for her. She clears her throat and squints down at her menu, which may as well be written in English what with how nothing seems to compute in her brain, and she blurts out the first thing she sees. “Shish barak.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Sure, if you’re into yoghurt.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna steal just my food?” Adrien complains. “Maybe I should order the shish barak too, so you leave my food alone.” He’s promptly shut down by Marinette giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“No, you’re getting the kibbeh,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m getting the kibbeh,” Adrien parrots robotically. Marinette smiles sweetly.

“And I’ll have the djaj mashwi,” she says, while Kagami ponders the merits of slamming her head on the table at the sheer display of Ladybug and Chat Noir energy from her two oblivious idiots. “I’m in the mood for chicken.”

Kagami pushes all thoughts of clobbering her partners’ heads together away as Adrien plays foot wrestling with her under the table and Marinette waves a waiter over to order. For now, she’s just going to enjoy this silly date in their silly disguises.

3. From Lila

She’s everywhere.

She’s hanging off Adrien on his way to fencing. She’s tangling their legs together when she crashes their study dates. She’s smothering the air around them with her cloying citrusy perfume as she laughs far too loudly at Adrien’s joke during a friends’ hangout.

And there’s nothing that Adrien can do about it. If he does one thing that even hints at defiance, Lila Rossi will go running straight back to tattle to his father like the venomous little muse she is. Even the fact that Adrien’s taken – by two people – has done nothing to dissuade her. If anything, she takes this as an open invitation.

“Oh, this kind of thing is very common in Italy!” Lila had crooned one day when Kagami had – very politely, in her opinion, since no swords were involved – asked her to please take her hands off Kagami’s and Marinette’s boyfriend, thank you very much. “It was so good to learn that Adrien had two girlfriends! There’s so much love in his heart…and so much room for more…”

It’s a sunny afternoon after school when Kagami finally snaps. Not at Lila; no, she knows very well what Gabriel would do in retaliation if his precious spy was hurt in any way. Rather, as soon as fencing is over and she’s changed out of her sweaty gear, she barges into the boys’ bathroom with her heavier-than-usual fencing bag.

“Kagami!” Adrien yelps and slaps his hands over his nipples. Kagami rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have breasts, Adrien,” she says with every ounce of patience that she’s had to curate since learning her partners’ secret identities. “And it’s nothing that Marinette and I haven’t seen before. Speaking of Marinette, hurry up and get dressed.”

“Why?” Adrien hurries to throw on his top, further confirming Kagami’s suspicion that he’s started changing after fencing as slowly as possible to put off the moment he has to leave and be accosted by Lila. “Is she hurt? Did Lila or Chloé throw her over the balcony or something?”

“Not yet,” Kagami mutters. She rummages in her fencing bag for Adrien’s oversized hoodie that she’s…ahem, delayed returning. Because she has definitely intended to return it. Eventually. Which is now. “She’s letting Lila…spout hot air? Is that the saying?”

“And you left them alone together?” Adrien snatches his hoodie and tries to yank it on so quickly that his head ends up caught in the sleeve with his arm. Sighing, Kagami helps him correct his mistake while trying as hard as possible not to let her fond smile at her boyfriend’s dorkiness slip through.

“Marinette can handle herself.” Kagami fishes out a pair of sunglasses and a green baseball cap. “It’s Lila I’d be worried about. In any case, she’s keeping Lila occupied, but there’s only so much threatening and bragging that Lila can do before she grows bored.”

“Then what’s –?”

“We’re sneaking you out. Come on.”

Kagami tugs Adrien over to one of the tiny windows in the bathroom. Then, in one smooth movement, she crouches and cups her hands for Adrien’s foot. Gritting her teeth and drawing on every bit of athletic strength she has, she propels Adrien up to the window and locks herself in place so that he can pop the latch and push the window open.

“Damn it!” Adrien curses when the locker room door opens. Kagami prays it’s not –

“Adrien?” Lila’s sickly-sweet voice echoes in the locker room. Thank goodness for bathroom doors, or she’d have caught them in a heartbeat. “Where are you? I didn’t see you walk out.”

With newfound fervour and a boost from Kagami, Adrien grabs the windowsill and propels himself upwards. He almost doesn’t fit – Kagami holds her breath when he ends up stuck halfway out and curses – but then he forces out a loud breath of air for just that little less abdominal width and manages to slide fully out the window. Kagami just has to assume that he’s fine and has no serious injuries from his landing, although being hurt would probably be preferable to him over dealing with Lila.

She gives it to the count of ten, then flushes a random toilet and washes her hands before pushing the bathroom door open. Lila immediately materialises in front of her.

“Kagami! Hi!” Lila says with a very fox-like smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to use the boys’ bathroom.”

Kagami shrugs. “After you called me a boy with boobs the other day, I figured it shouldn’t matter if I used the boys’ bathroom. There’s really no difference except for the urinals. And the stench. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Oh, I was only teasing.” Lila sounds like she was doing anything but. “Where’s Adrien? He’s usually finished changing by now.”

“I don’t know,” Kagami says with another shrug. “He’s not in the bathroom either, though. You can go and see for yourself.”

Before Lila can take up any more of her precious time, Kagami brushes past her and out of the locker room. As soon as the door swings shut behind her, she lets her giggle break free into her hand and pulls out her phone to check in with her accomplices – er, her partners. Now she truly understands the saying “being bad has never felt so good”.

4. From an akuma take 2

“I seriously want to know what goes through Hawkmoth’s mind half the time,” Misterbug complains. He deflects a burst of pink perfume with his yo-yo, then ducks so that Lady Noire can jab Princess Fragrance with her staff. “Like, remember the days we thought he was Mr Agreste? And then I realised ‘no, he can’t be, because Mr Agreste at least has some creativity!’”

Ryuuko isn’t sure whether she wants to pat Misterbug on the head in agreement or slap him to get his head back in the game. To be fair to Hawkmoth, Puppeteer had been one of his most powerful akumas with her ability to control someone if she has a doll or similar representation of them, so akumatising her for a third time isn’t too foolish of a move. And considering that Ladybug and Chat Noir merchandise is very widespread, the decision to swap their Miraculouses like with Reflekdoll had been inevitable. Ryuuko’s never been more grateful that she’s not considered a steady enough temporary hero to have merchandise made of her, so there’s no way for Puppeteer to control her.

If she’s honest, Ryuuko can’t really scold Misterbug for not fully focusing. Not when she has to spend a whole mission with her girlfriend in a tight black catsuit. And while Ryuuko is very much asexual, only a fool would deny the sheer beauty of Marinette Dupain-Cheng with a long braid and a suit sculpted to her body and an uncharacteristic smirk on her face that’s much more reminiscent of Chat Noir than Ladybug. If Ryuuko had even an iota of artistic skill, she’d spend hours just trying to capture Marinette’s beauty in all forms, starting with the feline goddess who’s just managed to trick Silencer and Jackady into hitting each other. Silencer immediately starts to cluck like a chicken, while Jackady frantically starts shuffling his cards, trying to make his power work without his voice.

“Heads up!” Tortue Verte’s shield whizzes over Lady Noire’s head and nails Darkblade right in the face. She whoops and punches the air. “Strike! I could so get used to this.”

“As hot as you look in my colours, babe,” says Foxtrot, using his flute to keep panther Animan’s jaws away from him while he’s sprawled on the road, “I kinda miss Rena. And using the shield. Never thought it’d suck to have merch of me.”

Knowing that Ladybug is Marinette, Ryuuko’s almost certain of the identities of Tortue Verte and Foxtrot, aka Rena Rouge and Carapace. But considering that they’re in the middle of a battle and there are several brainwashing akuma puppets, she buries that thought very deep down and instead focuses on deflecting one of Reverser’s paper planes with her sword. There’ll be time later to muse on secret identities, when they’re not in the heat of one of the most chaotic battles that Paris has ever seen.

5. From Gabriel

Death is far too good for Gabriel Agreste.

“Breaking up with Adrien is the last thing we’re going to do,” Kagami says as Marinette sobs hysterically into her chest on the soft pink chaise. The anger simmering beneath her skin is almost at boiling point, threatening to bubble over and explode out of her, and her crying girlfriend is the only thing keeping her grounded. One of them has to be on the lookout for akumas, and it’s most definitely not going to be Marinette in her current state.

“B-But you heard M-Mr Agreste,” Marinette chokes out. “He’ll p-pull Adrien from school. And – your m-mother – we’re j-just a d-distraction to you – he said she told him –”

“Rubbish.” Kagami runs her fingers through Marinette’s hair and presses a soft kiss to her head. So many years of being hard, of compartmentalising her irrelevant and distracting emotions to please her mother, to live up to the Tsurugi name, and then she’d met the boy and girl of her dreams and now she’s alive, and she feels so strongly, and no one is going to take this away from her. What is honour if it means turning her back on those who need her? On those she cares about?

“B-But –”

“No. Marinette, listen to me.” Kagami cups Marinette’s cheek and guides her face up. The sight of her girlfriend’s red-rimmed blue eyes is enough for the poisonous rage inside her to almost break free, but she forces it back down as though it’s a rabid animal on a leash. If Marinette gets akumatised, all is lost; not only because she’s Ladybug, but because she’s one of the kindest, sweetest, most amazing people that Kagami has ever had the fortune to meet. And if Kagami gets akumatised, the emotional toll of having to defeat and purify her will more than likely be too much for Marinette to bear after everything else that’s happened today.

“Kagami…?”

Kagami blinks and shakes her head to clear her tumultuous thoughts. Later. She can process her own emotions later. For now, Marinette needs her.

“I’ve never been more focused since meeting you and Adrien,” Kagami says. “And if Mother even tries to argue, I have a whole presentation prepared. I’m serious. I have it saved on my flash drive.”

Marinette lets out a weak giggle. Kagami basks in the glow of this laughter, as tiny as it is, because it’s tangible proof that, as awful as she can be interacting with other people, she’s improving. She knows enough to support one of the people dearest to her.

“Mother might not have been happy, but she didn’t try and interfere,” Kagami continues. “She said that so long as my focus did not waver, she would give me her tentative blessing. I suspect that Adrien’s father has spoken to her and persuaded her that you are a negative influence on me and Adrien. That will change once I talk to her.”

“And…Adrien?”

“We’ll work it out.” Kagami leans in and leaves a soft little kiss on the top of Marinette’s nose, and she’s rewarded with another watery yet musical giggle. “The only thing we’re not going to do is break up with him. That will crush him. We’re going to tell him exactly what his father said.”

“We can’t!” Marinette jerks back and almost topples backward off her chaise, if not for Kagami’s arms around her. “Mr Agreste will pull him out of school and he’ll never get to see his friends again and he’ll know it’s all my fault and he’ll be unhappy for the rest of his life and end up turning to evil and working with Hawkmoth and we’ll never marry him and have three kids – more if you want them but I want three and they’ll be Emma and Hugo and Louis – and a hamster called –”

“How do you even have enough breath to say all of that?” Kagami says, trying not to pass out just from following Marinette’s catastrophising ramblings. Marinette laughs rather hysterically.

“It’s a gift. But we can’t tell him! He’d refuse to break up and I’d be responsible for him losing everything!”

“Shouldn’t he have that choice?” Kagami says. “Everyone around him tries to control him. Adrien deserves to be able to make that choice. And this isn’t solely on your shoulders. We’re both dating him.”

“But…how do we talk to him?” Marinette whispers. Now she’s slumping against Kagami with fluttering eyes, as though she’d just participated in an extremely strenuous bout of fencing and is two minutes from passing out. Considering her anxiety-ridden ramblings from just before, she probably has exerted that much energy, just mentally rather than physically. “His father will never let him out. We’d have to stand at the front door, and he’d know as soon as we tried to talk to Adrien.”

“We default to our usual plan.” Kagami gently untangles herself from Marinette so that she can cross over to Marinette’s wardrobe and start rummaging inside. “Disguises.”

“But what good is that going to do?”

“Plausible deniability. Adrien’s bodyguard is a very firm ally, but even he can’t ignore direct orders. However, if he allowed Adrien out to talk to some friends instead of his girlfriends…”

“Of course!” Marinette breathes. Kagami is suddenly tackled from behind and is forced to throw her hands out and grab the sides of Marinette’s wardrobe to prevent herself from faceplanting. “Gami, you’re a genius! I love you, I love you, I love you!”

The poisonous anger that had been burning through Kagami’s body dissipates at Marinette’s words and gives way to soft warmth, like the sun is shining inside her. Once her legs are steady underneath her, she turns and wraps her arms around Marinette, who’s now trying to plaster every inch of her face with kisses.

“I had to bring something to this relationship, didn’t I?” Kagami says. “You and Adrien are far too chaotic to be left alone. Come on, help me pick out some disguises so we can go and talk to Adrien.”

+1

Kagami had never imagined that Hawkmoth’s defeat would go this way.

It was supposed to be glorious. A fantastic final battle full of clashing superpowers and pumping adrenaline.

But no. Adrien had caught a glimpse of Nooroo – Hawkmoth’s kwami – during a visit to his father’s office to confront Gabriel for his stunt regarding Marinette and Kagami and trying to break the three of them up. From there, it had been far too easy for Ladybug and Chat Noir to simply sneak in and steal the Butterfly Miraculous after Adrien had somehow slipped some sleeping pills into his father’s expensive whiskey.

(Or rather, Plagg had done that part, but Kagami’s not supposed to know about her boyfriend being Chat Noir, so she’s considerately refrained from pointing out the flaws in the “official” story).

Gabriel and Nathalie – aka Mayura – had been arrested the following day. In the wake of their arrests, Kagami had thought that Adrien would jump at the chance to be done with them and pretend they never existed. But her boyfriend had proven that, despite the years of emotional abuse he’d been forced to endure, he’s still got one of the biggest hearts that Kagami has ever seen.

“I love them,” Adrien had whispered into a midnight three-way cuddle, finally allowed to crack and break down after so much time fearing the consequences of emotional vulnerability. “After everything they did to Paris…to me…there’s a part of me that still…I don’t want to forgive them, but I don’t want to hate them. I just want them to…not be. You know?”

And that leads to now. Kagami, Alya, and Nino have been gathered in Adrien’s temporary suite in Le Grand Paris, where he’s been staying until his bodyguard can be awarded permanent custody since Emilie Agreste had been laid to rest just days before.

“Thank you for coming,” Ladybug begins, wringing her hands. “I know that there wasn’t really a final battle or anything –”

“Pity,” Nino mutters. “Been looking forward to smacking that guy in the face for years.”

“– but I still wanted to thank you for stepping up and putting yourselves on the line,” Ladybug continues, while Chat Noir’s lips twitch at Nino’s comment. “I trust the other heroes, of course, but you three are, well…I’d trust you with my life. And with what Chat Noir and I are about to reveal.”

Chat Noir’s lips quirk again, but it’s hollow. A small part of Kagami wonders if it’s appropriate for her to know exactly why, when even his own superhero partner doesn’t know.

“Even though Hawkmoth and Mayura are gone, there’s still so much to do with the Miraculouses,” Ladybug says. “Petty crimes, little acts of goodness…and figuring out how to do this whole Guardian thing. Part of that is not leaving the kwamis locked up in the Box for centuries. So, now that Hawkmoth is gone, and identities aren’t an issue anymore…”

Alya almost faints when Ladybug retrieves the Fox Miraculous from her yo-yo and holds it out. She stretches her hand out to take it, pauses with her fingers right above the golden chain, and she only snatches it away and hugs it to her chest with squeals of ecstasy when Ladybug smiles and nods. Nino actually yanks Ladybug in for a tight hug when she gives him the Turtle Miraculous before letting go to talk to the turtle kwami that had materialised, just as Alya is currently chatting away to the fox kwami so fast that her words are almost just a buzzing sound.

It takes every ounce of willpower for Kagami to not lose her composure and shriek when Ladybug presents her with the Dragon Miraculous. Instead, she forces herself to contain the energy that’s vibrating beneath her very skin, and she bows her head and accepts the choker from her masked girlfriend.

“Greetings, Kagami-san!” Longg says once she’s appeared in a flash of red light. “I am thrilled that you are to be my permanent holder!”

“As am I, Longg-sama,” Kagami says with a smile and holds out a hand for Longg to settle on.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Ladybug says when Kagami, Alya, and Nino have finally exhausted themselves from excitement, “Chat Noir and I have something that we want to tell you.”

Chat Noir reaches out and takes Ladybug’s hand with a small smile. Alya looks like she’s going to burst with excitement, but that’s nothing compared to her reaction after Ladybug and Chat Noir utter their next words.

“Spots off.”

“Claws in.”

As soon as their transformation lights fade, it becomes painfully obvious that they hadn’t revealed themselves to each other before this moment. Alya’s screaming – muffled into a pillow to avoid security rushing up to them – and Nino’s wordless gaping are to be expected. What’s not expected is the way Marinette and Adrien take one look at each other, then squeal and jump apart.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” they bellow. Their kwamis, meanwhile, are doubled over in mid-air with laughter.

“Dude!” Nino holds up his hands with the look of someone who’s doing ten equations at once in their heads while being utterly awful at mathematics.

“My best friend is Ladybug!” Alya shrieks. “Since when? How the hell didn’t you two figure it out from being together? Is that why you gave me the Fox? And missed class all the time? And all the times you flaked – you were off being Ladybug – my best friend –”

Kagami just stands in the centre of this storm and smiles down at Longg.

“And you!” Alya jabs a finger at Kagami. “How the hell did you manage to land Ladybug and Adrien Agreste? Tell us mere mortals your secret!”

“You’re not even surprised?” Marinette splutters. “How did you –?”

“Because unlike others in this room…” Kagami takes a step forward and leans in. Marinette and Adrien lean back with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “I have a brain cell.” Then she leans back and savours the mixture of indignation and awe on her partners’ faces. She might pay for this later, but for now? She’s going to savour this sweet, sweet victory while she can, before Marinette and Adrien team up to punish her.

She won’t complain too much, though. She’s sure they’ll work out an appropriate punishment…like kissing her until her brain melts. She can live with that.

[myhockeyworld87]

Fair Fun

Requested: Yes - anonymous asked:Tyler takes you to a fair on a first date and tries to win you a stuffed toy and persuades you to go on the Ferris wheel even though you hate heights

Word Count: 3297

Warnings: None

POV: Reader

Notes: This was another fun request to write. Hope you guys like it! Peace, Love and Hugs all!

You still couldn’t believe you were getting ready for your first date with Tyler Seguin. When you’d stepped into the coffee shop, you knew who he was right away, though you didn’t approach him; wanting to give him his privacy. Though when he tried to take your order you had no choice but to speak to him. “I’m sorry, I think that one is mine.” You’d said casually, as he held your coffee in his hand.

 He turned the cup over, checking to see. “Oh, you’re right, this is decaf. Sorry about that.”

 “No problem.” He went to hand the drink over to you, finally looking at you. Just as you went to take the coffee from him, he pulled it back.

“Decaf? You don’t really look like the non-caffeinated type.” He was eyeing you appreciatively; truth be told you couldn’t take your eyes off his mouth.

 Your brain scrambled for a witty retort, when none came to mind you finally blurted out. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not. How do the non-caffeine lovers of the world actually look?”

 “Usually dark circles under the eyes, hair not perfect; you know not as beautiful as you look.” Heat rose to your cheeks at his words. “Who knew that blush would make you even prettier.”

 “Thank you, that’s sweet of you to say.” His coffee order came up then, yet he made no move to get it. “I believe that one is yours finally.” You reached over to take your drink, yet he still didn’t relinquish it; you raised your eyebrows at him questioningly.

 “I feel like if I give you this, you’re going to walk out the door and I’ll never see you again; and I can’t have that.” A wicked grin broke out across his lips, and you felt it deep in your core.

 On a whim, you wrote your phone number down on a napkin. “Trade?” You said holding the number out, as he held your coffee hostage.

 “Seems fair.” He exchanged you. Once the drink was in your hand you made a move to leave; needing some air from the whole encounter. You knew he’d never call so why prolong the meeting, besides you needed to head to work. “See exactly as I thought. I’m glad I held out for this.”

 Shaking your head at him, you replied; “Sorry, I’m late for work.”

 “Alright Decaf, I’ll talk to you soon.” With that you headed out the door, taking a deep cleansing breath to compose yourself.

 Pulling out of the parking lot, you headed down the road to work; when your phone came through the car. “Hello”

 “Hey Decaf, you forgot to tell me your name.”

 Oh my god, it was Tyler. You never expected him to call. “Oh, um…It’s (Y/N).” After that, the conversation just seemed to flow; and over the next six days you talked to each other more times than you could count. He happened to be heading out on a road trip the day after you met him, but he would snap you and call constantly while he was gone.

 Finally, on the day before he came home; he asked you out. The fair was winding down and he thought the two of you could go before it ended. Of course, you said yes, but right now you were second guessing everything; as you couldn’t find a thing to wear. In the end you decided on a destressed pair of jeans and a plaid off the shoulder crop top. You put on the finishing touches right as the doorbell rang. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you answered the door. “Wow, you look great Decaf.”

 “Will I forever be known as Decaf to you?” During your conversations on the phone, he would somehow slide the nickname in at least once.

 That devilish grin of his came out, as he said; “What? I like it; you’re my venti decaf. I still have no clue how you are always so upbeat without any caffeine. So you ready for some fair food and fun?”

 “Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” The two of you talked the whole way to the fair; it was as if you’d known each other forever and not just a few short days. When you finally parked the car, Tyler came over and opened the door for you; then grabbed your hand as you strolled on the grounds. “I feel like I haven’t been to the fair in years.”

 “So, what do you want to do first? Eat, play some games or hit up a couple rides.”

 Someone walked by with deep-fried oreos. “Food first, did you see those? They look amazing. Though I suppose they’re not on your hockey diet.”

 “Everyone deserves a cheat night once and awhile.” He scooted you past a crowd until you were in line for the deep-fried goodness. Breaking one apart, you brought the creamy confection to your mouth, sighing as you tasted the yumminess of the cookie. “Damn girl, you make that sound so delicious.” You weren’t entirely sure he was referring to the oreo.

 Holding the other half up to his mouth, you said; “Have some.” Taking the cookie in his mouth, he licked your fingers clean from the powdered sugar that remained there; it made you shiver. You shook yourself to regain your composure. “Maybe we shouldn’t have started with dessert.”

 “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find a way to work it off, sometime tonight.’ You blushed; couldn’t help it when he said comments like that. “Come on let’s get some real food.” The two of you wandered around, sampling this and that as you went. When you’d finally had enough food, you stopped at a booth where you could shoot basketballs and win a prize. “Better start picking out which stuffed animal you want; I’ve got this in the bag.”

 You looked at him skeptically, these carnival games always seemed to have a catch to them. Normally the hoops were slightly bent as to be in favor of the game owner. Tyler, threw out five dollars for five shots. The first one hit the backboard. On a regular court, the shot would’ve gone in, but here it simply bounced off the rim. You held back a giggle, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The next two followed in roughly the same manner. The fourth somehow made it in. “I was just warming up before. I’ve got it now babe.” Bending at the knees he released the last ball to the hoop. It missed. The booth operator, held out a small box, filled with tiny plastic trinkets; and told you to pick one. Tyler’s face was completely dejected; as you settled on a small little bracelet. “That’s not the prize I wanted to win for you.”

 Placing it on your wrist, you told him; “Aww, it’s really cute though.” The two of you continued on, until you stopped at a balloon dart booth; where Tyler insisted, he would win this time. The man handed over three darts. Only one of which Tyler was able to break a balloon with. You could see the frustration on his face, as he gave the gentlemen more money to try again; not getting any to break this time. Gently you pulled him away before he could spend more money. “Ty, you know these games are all rigged right.”

 “They can’t all be.” His thumb was rubbing the bracelet he’d won for you, as he held your hand; a frown on his face as you continued to stroll among the booths. You hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to win you a stuffed animal; had just assumed it was his masculine pride that was bruised from losing both games.

 He started to pull you in the direction of the fish bowls. “Oh no, you are not winning me a fish!”

 “Aww come on. I’ll buy you a tank and everything to take care of it.”

 He was giving you these puppy dog eyes and they were hard to resist, yet you found yourself saying. “I don’t think so. It would just be a waste of money when I have to flush him down the toilet in two days.”

 He laughed but totally agreed with you. “Ok, you’re right, no fish; but we’re not leaving here until I win you something better than this.”

 “But I like it.”

 He rolled his eyes at you. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

 You moved the two of you off to the side, away from the crowds; so you could face him. “I’m not just saying that. I’ll wear it all the time, because it will remind me of you and how much fun I’m having.” His hands had moved to your hips, while you were talking; so, you took the opportunity to slide yours up his chest and around his neck. You tilted your head to the side, as you said; “Maybe I need to convince you.” Bringing your lips up to his, you kissed him sweetly. He pulled you a little tighter to him, as the kiss continued. As your mouth was pressed to his, you melted into him; until he finally broke away.

 “That was definitely convincing, though if we continue; I may forget that we’re actually at a fair with hundreds of people.” His words brought you back to the present, for a short moment you actually didn’t remember where you were. You took a step back out of his embrace. “Oh no, don’t think I’m letting you go now.” He tightened his hold on you, then gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Come on, let’s go ride something.”

 Honestly, this was sort of the part you were dreading. You did enjoy some of the rides, the ones people usually hated that would spin, never seemed to bother you. It was pretty much the ones that were off the ground about twenty feet. Which meant the Texas Tower was totally off your list of enjoyment, even though it was probably one of the most sedate rides there; besides the carousel. Hopefully, Tyler would scratch that off his list. The two of you headed over to Haunted Castle, which ended up being a slow roller coaster with creepy things flying at you. Which meant you got to hold on to Tyler tight. While it wasn’t super scary it was an excuse to bury your head in the crook of his neck, and breathe in his intoxicating scent. As you exited the ride, Tyler leaned in to tell you; “I’m thinking we may have to go on that one again.”

 You blushed, yet agreed with him. “I think you’re right. Come on silly, let’s hit up the tilt-a-whirl.” After that it was the music express and then the bumper cars; as you headed off the ride you saw what loomed ahead, the Ferris wheel. It was probably the ride that you dreaded most, swinging in some cart while over two-hundred feet in the air was not your idea of fun; in fact, you could feel yourself break out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. You sent up a quick prayer that he’d just want to move on to another ride.

 “No fair visit is complete without a ride on the Texas Star, come on.” You stopped dead in your tracks. If it weren’t for bad luck, you’d truly had no luck at all; meeting Tyler had been a total fluke. He pulled on your hand, yet you didn’t budge. “(Y/N), let’s go; the lines down, it’s perfect timing.”

 “Um…I have this sudden craving for funnel cake. We should go get one of those instead.” Fear had overtaken you and there was no way you were going to tell Tyler about it. He was this big, strong hockey player, that would speed down the ice checking players and taking hits; he probably wasn’t afraid of anything.

 “That’s clear over on the other side; we’ll get one after this.”

 You were going to have to try a different tactic. “Oh my gosh, they have the cutest stuffed puppy at the shooting game. You have to try and win that; it would look so adorable in my house.”

 “Yeah, sure anything you want. Let’s just hit the Ferris wheel first.” He yanked on your hand again. “Babe, what gives?”

 “Just look at the guy running it, doesn’t he look a bit shady?” It was a stretch but you were willing to try anything at this point.

 “He looks like every other ride operator here, and you haven’t had a problem until now. So how about you tell me what’s really going on.”

 There was no use hiding it anymore; he could probably see the terrified look in your eyes. He reached over, running his hands up and down your arms in a comforting manner. “Ok well…you see…I’m sort of afraid of heights.”

 “Oh” You could see realization dawn on his face. His hands slid down your arms, and he grasped both your hands in his. “So, we don’t have to go on it, if you don’t want; or you can take this opportunity and just face your fear.”

 “Easy for you to say, you’re probably not afraid of anything.”

 A deep chuckle erupted from him. “Hardly. Obviously, you didn’t see that episode of me and what’s in the box.” When you shook your head no, he continued. “I’m terrified of snakes. They put a toy one in there and I thought I was going to lose my shit. So I totally get being afraid, but I’ll be with you the whole time.” He brought your joined hands to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles. “Promise I won’t let go.”

 You kind of felt nauseous just thinking about going on the monstrous wheel, but then you looked into Tyler’s eyes and those nerves seemed to dissipate. “Ok, you promise you won’t let go?” He nodded yes. “Though I’m telling you now; I’ll probably keep my eyes closed the whole time.”

 “That’s fine, hun. We’ll do this together.”

 “Ok, but let’s go now before I chicken out.” Tyler led you up to the Ferris wheel, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb in a comforting motion. As you neared the front of the line, every instinct in you wanted to run. Tyler must have noticed for he grabbed your waist and held you tight to him; you took some measure of comfort in the embrace.

 “Alright (Y/N), we’re up. You ready.” Wordlessly you nodded. Tyler stepped in first and the cart swung a bit; yet he never let go of you. Before you think about it any further, you stepped in and hurriedly sat down; giving out a little shriek. “Don’t worry babe, I got you.” He switched hands so that he had one arm draped across your shoulders squeezing you to his side; while the other one held your hand. The Ferris wheel started to rotate. “You’re ok just breathe. I don’t need you passing out on me.” He laughed and some of the tension that was running through your body relaxed. You were about midway to the top, when Tyler whispered in your ear. “You’re missing out on a great view.”

 Slowly you peeked one eye open. The fair was so alive at night, the colors all vibrant and sparkling; it was quite magical. “Wow you’re right it is really pretty.”

 “See you’re doing great (Y/N).” You felt yourself relax a little more into Tyler. “Actually, it’s kind of romantic up here, all alone.” You glanced in his direction and the smile he wore melted your heart. “I think I know something that would take your mind off this ride even more.” He bent his head down to yours and captured your lips in a tender kiss. Just like before, the world drifted away and it was just you and Tyler. You sighed into him, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue swept inside, caressing you softly; never asking for anything more than you would give. You felt your hand separate from his, as you reached up to cup his cheek, giving yourself fully over to him. You’re not sure how many times the Ferris wheel went around; for as your kiss with Tyler continued time stood still. It wasn’t until the cart came to a stop that you broke away; the swaying motion bringing you back to reality. You were stuck at the tippy top; but quite frankly you didn’t care. As long as Tyler was beside you, you could conquer any fear.

 “Thanks for making me get on this thing. I have to say it might be my new favorite ride.”

 “Mine too.” He whispered, then stole one more kiss.

 “So now that you’ve helped me, is there a snake exhibit or something we should go see here.” You teased.

 “I think we’ve dealt with enough fears tonight. We can save that for another date.”

 The two of you exited the ride, then continued around the fair. You stopped and got cotton candy, where you fed Tyler the gooey confection, only to get it stuck in his beard; which of course lead to more kissing. Finally, you both passed a game, which Tyler couldn’t pass up. “Come on (Y/N) just let me try this one last time.”

 “Fine.” It was the hang game, where he literally just had to hang on a pull-up bar for two minutes. Tyler paid the man the money, then got in position. His feet were just off the ground. The clock started, as you watched sixty seconds past you could tell by the look on his face this was harder than he expected. “Come on Ty, you can do it.” You cheered him on, just as he’d helped you through the Ferris wheel. He had another twenty seconds to go and you could see his arms starting to shake a bit. “You got this.” You started to count down with the clock, hoping that would urge him on. When you hit one, and the timer went off; you could see the relief of having made it on his face. He waited a full extra two seconds just for good measure, before dropping down to the ground.

 “I told you, I’d get you that stuffed animal.” He was slightly out of breath, as the booth operator told you to pick out one of the enormous plush toys. There wasn’t really a choice, you were definitely picking the green puppy; as it reminded you of Tyler. Pointing out which one you wanted, and they handed it over to you. It was literally about four foot tall and you could barely carry it.

 “Oh my god, what am I going to do with this thing; it’s huge!”

 “Wow, I was hoping you’d say that about something else, not this stuffed dog.” You shoved him, as best you could with a giant puppy in your arms.

 “Well I already do think that, of your ego.” You winked at him as the two of you ambled through the fairgrounds. “But seriously, thanks for this guy. It was really sweet of you to win him for me.”

 He reached over, snaking an arm around your waist; as he said. “It was nothing. Though it’s going to be hard to top for date number two.”

 “Oh, date two huh?”

 “Well, yeah. Though I’m not ready for this one to be over yet.”

 You had reached the car and were leaning up against it. He trapped you with his hands resting on either side; then pressed his lips against yours. The kiss went on for a few minutes before you finally, breathed. “Well it doesn’t have to be.”

[officialleehadan]

The Hint of Answers

Hello darlings!  We're continuing with Prompt Month, and here's another $5+ story, fresh from the press for the wonderful Jennifer! I'm so pleased you requested this one. It feels good to finally let this story see sunlight again. Enjoy!

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Three days later, the day dawned bright and clear. After his doctor’s appointment Evan wandered aimlessly through the town on foot. According to the doctor, aside from lingering dehydration and some bruising he was as hale and sound as when he got in the water.

The doctor let him go with nothing more a warning that he should have a lot of water, and instructions to come back for another check-up before he went back to work.

Despite his exhaustion, Evan wasn’t sleeping well. Dreams of the cave were haunting him. Not nightmares exactly, but not good dreams either. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting something important.

Sometime around four in the morning when he was laying in bed, watching the moon out his window, a fleeting memory came back to him.

Something had pulled his mouthpiece away from his face. It wasn’t the first time he got a piece of equipment pulled off him; he had been a diver for a long time. Accidents happened. But this… this was different.

It might be the hypothermia speaking, being too cold did some interesting things to the brain and hallucinations weren’t uncommon, but there was just something that told him he hadn’t imagined it.

And all his equipment was gone when he washed up. There was no way for all of it to come off without taking it off.. Getting into it when he was dry and trying to get geared up was a complicated endeavor that sometimes required more than one pair of hands.

The foggy memory of lips on his, well, that he was writing up as his brain playing tricks on him.

Not bad, for a hypothermia-induced hallucination, though.

As he walked down the street Evan looked around the town, trying to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his skin. He wished he could go back to work. Boredom didn’t suit him, and he was used to a lot of exercise. The lack of it was making him jittery.

His feet took him along the sea wall until he could see the deepest blue waters of the Tongue of the Ocean well offshore. The ocean floor plunged six thousand feet there, and the dive down the wall of the canyon was supposed to be incredible.

That was an adventure for another day. When his friends were willing to let him have his tanks back. Maybe he could talk them into going with him. Tony loved that kind of diving.

Of course, he would have to talk them into letting him have his backup gear first. By the time Evan woke up the day after his rescue, Javen had already locked all of his gear in the van. It was probably a good choice. Evan knew himself well enough to know that if he had his equipment, he would probably go do something stupid with it. Fortunately his friends knew that as well.

The mystery of how he had gotten out of the cave was eating at him. He had come up slowly enough to decompress, but he hadn’t had the time to do that considering how hypothermic he had been.

That was also entirely leaving out the question of what he had been breathing after he fell unconscious.

There were just so many things that didn’t add up. His memories about the dive weren’t reliable, but he knew what was impossible and what wasn’t.

Even if the cave had been tidal, and he didn’t remember there being much current at the end, he was wearing sixty pounds of gear. All of it was necessary to survive at that depth, and all of it had been made to stay put once it was on.

Without his mouthpiece and his mask, he would have been breathing water. Last time he checked, that wasn’t in his bag of tricks.

Around him tourists and locals were walking towards the market, and Evan decided it was as good a direction as any. Following the traffic, he wandered back down the road until the many-colored tents of the farmer’s market came into sight. From somewhere in the tents he could hear music, and as he wandered in the riot of colors, scents from the fruit and fresh-made local goods washed over him.

Evan stopped to buy himself a bowl of something he didn’t recognize that smelled so good that he forgot to ask what it was. It turned out to be fresh conch, fried into fritters with hot pepper and lime and so good that he ate it faster than he probably should.

There were farmers, fishermen, and merchants selling their wares down on the dockside. The bright batik cloth that Andros was known for hung in broad swaths of color, patterned with flowers and shells.

Here and there among the fishermen and the farmers were stalls that held jewelry made of shells and pearls. Evan let his gaze trail over them absently, considering whether to pick up a souvenir for Chris’s daughter while he was here.

Allison came with Chris on jobs sometimes. She adopted Evan as an uncle when she was eight. Evan sent her presents by way of Chris whenever he found something he thought she would like.

Out of the corner of his eye, Evan spotted Anita chatting animatedly with a dark-haired woman at one of the booths.

The other woman had her back to him, but she threw a glance over her shoulder when Anita’s eyes fell on him.

Evan had been too out of it to really get a good look at Anita during his rescue. She was in tan shorts today, and a bright blue top. Her  short grey hair spiked wildly and she clearly didn’t care in the slightest.

She gave him a rakish smile when he walked over.

“Well, you look altogether less dead than you did when I last saw you,” she told him frankly after giving him a good once-over. “Feeling better?” .

“Much better,” he assured her with a wry grin. “My friends fed me and poured me into bed, and Chris dragged me to the doctor today.”

“Good for him. Someone needs to look out for you young rogues. Any unexpected problems?”

“Nothing unusual, except that I have none of the expected symptoms,” he told her thoughtfully, watching her face. She wasn’t surprised, and she shrugged one shoulder.  “I should be a poster boy for ‘dead or dying of poor life choices’, but I’m not.”

“Guess you dodged the bullet, yeah?”

“Something like that. Hey, you told me you got a call about me, about where I washed up. I was wondering if you could tell me more about that tip,” Evan asked, fishing for any clues that might help him piece together what happened. He didn’t have enough information to figure it out and he had nothing better to do until he could go back to work.

Anita cocked her head, eyes sharp and interested, and oddly wary.

“Sure, but I’d like to know what caught your interest first,” she said quietly, more serious now. “We’re a private community. We look after our own.”

“My gear,” he told her honestly. It wasn’t the only thing on his mind, but it was the easiest one to explain. “It’s all missing. I was hoping to be able to look around for it. I can’t figure out how it all came off like that.”

“Well, that’s reasonable enough,” Anita admitted and ran a hand through her short hair. “But it puts me in a spot. See, one of my Search and Rescue people found you. She’s a free-diver and she was in the area. She spotted you and let me know.”

“If I could meet her, I’d be grateful,” Evan told Anita, latching onto the sudden hope for the answers he desperately wanted.. “She saved my life. I’d like to say thank you, at least, and maybe she saw my gear while she was out.”

Anita looked at him for a while. He got the feeling that she was making up her mind about him. Finally she returned his smile.

“Okay, but she’s real shy and a little quiet, so don’t spook her,” she warned as she beckoned him deeper into the market. “Follow me and keep up. It’s easy to get lost here.”

+++

HGE - Riptide

Evan Ross survived what no one before him ever has, and now he’s on the hunt for answers. His only clue is a single word that echoed through the water of a flooded cave.

Breathe.

Under Stone

White Sand Sky

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More Stories!

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[ohjaimelannister]

Do you think Hoppers actually dead though?

O K A Y.

I’ve been looking for an excuse to pull all of this together so here we go! NO Anon, I do not think that Chief James Hopper has gone and died on us. There’s no REAL evidence (there are easter eggs though) however and the Duffer Brothers could still pull the rug out from under us but hey.

No I do not believe that Hopper is dead. Although some things can be interpreted as pretty final and if the Duffers really kill him off I will never watch this show again, because it’s horrifically SHITTY writing and im already super tired of that this year lmao.

One - There is no body? We were never showed a body or what’s left of one? We have seen bodies for Benny, Barb, Bob and Billy (and even people who were in it for like 5 minutes). THEY EVEN PRODUCED A FAKE WILL WHEN THEY WANTED US TO THINK HE WAS DEAD. THEY AREN’T AGAINST SHOWING US BODIES!!! Which brings me to my next point!

Two - They also aren’t against to showing us death. Lots of gory detailing death, WHOEVER it is. Billy died horrifically but you saw it even though hes a kid. Bob got ripped to shreds.  And even those dudes at the beginning of S3 died horribly? They still showed it. Hopper’s death??? It cuts away. You see NOTHING. AT. ALL. There aren’t even any remnants OF a body where he was standing, and Joyce goes down there and LOOKS. Surely shed find something? Gooey grossness like the bodies at the beginning? Nope. You could argue that they’d be against showing us the death of a beloved hero and a main character but. Again. Bob was beloved and arguably one of the sweetest characters in the show and he was ripped to bits in front of us and Joyce. Billy was a kid for all intents and purposes, still he died a horrible death. Not one bit of that was cut away.

Three - If you look in the shots hes not on the platform when the thing explodes????? like at all? Either that’s badly shot or its done deliberately because he’s just not there anymore? There’s the portal to the Upside Down and you can see a ladder in the shot too, so maybe he either went into the Upside Down or down the ladder and got caught by the russians?? We just don’t know.

Four - We see the devastated Eleven and the aftermath of what happened at Star Court. Then it jumps to three months later? Okay, odd that were not shown anymore of the grieving or the funeral. Then of course Eleven read the SPEECH. Think about the end of it specifically and about LEAVING THE DOOR OPEN 3 INCHES!! You can see from one of the final shots of Star Court that the gates not CLOSED. It was healing but it never fully closes. So Hopper could be in the Upside Down, or travelled through it to Russia on the other end?? Who knows. Point is, they included this line at the end for a reason. Whether the reason is that hes actually dead and they’re just being profound or that its a hint about his fate, its meaningful.

Five - During the ending the song HEROES by Peter Gabriel plays, this is the same song that was placed over them finding Wills fake body, and after all the goodbyes and the ‘speech’ where it ends with “keep the door open three inches” well. Come on.

Six - Then it cuts to Russia and you hear the “not the american” line, and Hopper was called “the American” throughout the series by that Russian baddie. Should I start waving Red Flags here or???? Then again, a lot of people are saying this could be Brenner. Okay I 100% get your logic Im with ya, and for a few days I’ve also thought it could be Brenner. But here’s the thing. Elevens powers. Brenner makes her use them to spy on a russian man in Season 1. Hinting that there’s more going on here than just super powers, kids and other dimensions. Don’t forget that in the 80s the world was in the grip of the Cold War, and things would have started reaching a boiling point for this long before 1985 when it ‘officially’ began. We were never given any answers about why Brenner was spying on this man, or even Russia. Or even if he WAS spying for the US. Nothing, it’s a throwaway scene. Or IS IT? Russians show up in Season Three somehow knowing about the Upside Down, having failed at their own attempts to open a gate in Russia. They somehow know that its Hawkins they need to be in to successfully open their gate and potentially get monsters to use, oh I don’t know, in a WAR???? How would they have known any of this information to begin with?? Oh I wonder. We were told all about Brenner being alive and out there in season two (and we were never told WHERE and this is not referenced again), but as far as I can remember Eleven has never shared this with anyone else, even though it’s completely RELEVANT information. And as far as I can remember (its been a hell of an emotional few days) I dont think were given any explanation about how the Russians knew about the Upside Down, Hawkins or anything. So maybe the reason they knew is BECAUSE BRENNER is the one giving them their directives? Because hes worked for THEM this whole time???

Seven -  Interestingly also Eleven lost her powers? JEEZ ISN’T THAT CONVENIENT!!! Because the first thing shed use them for is to look for Hopper even if she was told he was dead. Shed look, 100% for the man who saved her, gave her a home, loved her, worried for her, cared for her like she was his goddamn OWN. Conveniently though now SHE CANT??? Interesting.

Eight -  And now. There’s the voicemail message. In one of the episodes (my brains so fried I cant remember which one sorry) Murrays gives out his landline number, and when you call it you can hear him give a message to Joyce. You can listen to it here.  You can tell this is after season three, because why would he talk to Joyce Byers? Surely if he was trying to reach someone for information it would be Hopper?  “I have an update, its best if we speak in person" an update??? About what??? Why is he coercing with joyce???  Notice how he says “it’s not good or bad but its SOMETHING” and then says “we’ll talk about it in person” (or something like that) why would he be calling joyce with an ‘update’?????????? AND ON WHAT EXACTLY?? INTERESTING!!

Nine - Theres this interview with the cast specifically ABOUT Hopper, the death and the post credits scene. And I love David Harbour but, you cannot lie for shit my angel.

Ten - Millie has said in an interview “ Her dads gone, or so she thinks” COME ON.

Eleven - Again WE KNOW DAVID HARBOUR IS LIKE THE MARK RUFFALO OF STRANGER THINGS. And hes bad at keeping shit to himself. Hes already told us at the end of last YEAR, literally a month after they finished filming season three that the Duffers have told him the ending to the series as a whole. Why would any creator do this for a man they have effectively just fired, because his character died? Why would they tell him? They wouldn’t.

Tweleve - Again. David Harbour, bless his heart, I think its trying to give us HINTS and bread crumbs to follow. Last week he changed his instagram photo from Hopper in S1 to the number 6. Odd. Today he changed it to the number one :

Twelve continued - Basically if he changed it to an 8 next, we know hes trying to hint at Murrays voicemail message and this is a clue for Hopper. Because why else would he bother?

Thirteen - Theres also this screenshot from Cara Buonos instagram where she literally SAYS about him being in Kamchatka, and uses the Russian word for PRISON. (Of course this could just be a joke between the actors

Fourteen - Theres also the fact, which is not evidence mind you, that its incredibly shitty writing to have both the men that Joyce Byers loved/loves to die in front of her? And actually having her put the action in motion that kills the man she loves? No. I wont accept that. And weve been shown her non willingness to believe in peoples death, everyone and their mothers told her Will was dead and she was being crazy. Did she listen? No. And she got her boy back. Will she think once she has a clear head that Hoppers dead? Maybe. Which is why she asks Murray to investigate. Hence the Voicemail Message.

Fifteen - Its also incredibly shitty and hard to swallow, for Elevens sake too. I mentioned already how much she loves Hopper and finally got a true parent in him. Do you honestly think they’d put her through all of that just to lose him NOW? Like i said, its convienent how shes lost her powers at this very crucial moment.

Sixteen - DAVID. HARBOURS. BEARD. RIGHT. NOW.

And SEVENTEEN -Just in case y’all are having trouble with any of that it looks like David Harbour has let sorta slip (my god I fucking ADORE THIS MAN LET ME TELL YOU). I dont know how reliable this is mind you because its not coming from a BIG source, but HERE he hints at knowing who the American is, after telling everyone else (see the interview above ^^) that he doesnt know and he cant say anything. 

‘During an interview with David Harbour, I attempted to delicately get around the fate of Jim Hopper. Harbour, however, came right out and gave it to me straight. “This is the question I’m going to have to dance around–” I began, only for Harbour to interrupt me and ask, “The ending?” “Right,” I said. “Is there a way you can talk about the future of Hopper without…” I trailed off here, only for Harbour to ask: “Well, did you see the post-credits scene?”I had, of course. And so I straight-up asked: is that Hopper behind the door? According to Harbour, that’s the most likely scenario. Throughout the season, the main Russian baddie refers to Hopper as “the American”, and having another Russian refer to the mysterious prisoner in the same way was the big giveaway.Of course, knowing that Hopper is alive, and knowing how he survived and ended up in Russia, are two different things. We’ll have to wait for season 4 to get that answer. And we’ll have to wait to see how things unfold from there. Will a big chunk of season 4 involve Hopper escaping that Russian base, and trying to get back to America? Time will tell. One thing is clear: Hopper still has a long journey ahead of him; not just physically, but emotionally.’

SO, basically Jim Hopper has not left us, Joyce or Eleven.  And if the Duffer Brothers have done all this to screw with us, well. Im not gonna be responsible for what I do.

I FEEL JIM HOPPER IN THIS RUSSIAN PRISON TONIGHT!!!

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!!!!!!!!

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 6)

Note: The city where Shiro and Keith live is called Springdale. I’d pictured both of these towns being in the Carolinas. Again, there are tense changes everywhere (sorry) but I plan to fix them later.

Thank you for all the great feedback!!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

.

Lance woke up surprisingly early on Saturday. Today they were headed to the fair. He brewed coffee and made a tentative battle plan for the day: walk around, see stalls, a few rides, some games, lunch, maybe renting a scooter to drive up to lookout hill to watch the sunset. It was the perfect opportunity for Lance to stop dancing around the issue and just tell Keith he’s in to him already.

Pidge pokes fun at him through breakfast as Lance makes a group text thread with everyone. They agree to meet up at the south entrance of the fairgrounds at 10:30.

Lance ends up making them late by spending too much time picking out his clothes. Keith and Shiro are both sporting a little pink on their noses and cheekbones from the sun on the beach the day before, but they’re all smiles as they pay for their wrist bands and head into the fair. It’s a typical American county fair ordeal, with rickety rented rides, badly rigged carnival games, and endless booths of cheap nick-nacks and fried foods. But there was always something about the Harborville fair that set it apart. There was an energy here, like the last bang of summer before cool autumn weather swept down the coast.

They buy tokens and move as a group at first, taking a lap around the fair before splitting up. Pidge and Hunk stick together as always, Allura drags Shiro off at a rather brisk pace, and that left Lance and Keith.

“Anything you wanna do?” Lance asks him.

Keith shrugs and smiles. “Anything’s good.”

They walk around for a while, stopping at booths here and there. They run into other members of their group from time to time, and Lance uses his phone to film bits of a vlog for later editing, catching Shiro and Keith in a few bits (“I’m here with my good friends Shiro and Keith! Say hi guys!”). Lance buys an inaugural funnel cake to split with Keith before hitting the prize games. Keith rolls his eyes as Lance goes for the ring toss, a game he swears up and down he’s mastered despite it being horribly rigged.

“Just you watch,” Lance tells Keith as he lines up a ring. “I’m gonna win you the biggest stuffed animal they have, and then you’ll understand my prowess.”

He swears Keith’s cheeks go red as he smiles. “Well, have fun. I’m gonna grab a soda.”

Lance is half disappointed and half relieved that Keith is no longer watching. So of course, when the guy he’s trying to impress leaves, Lance lands all three rings on a pole. He’s carefully eyeing the selection of stuffed prizes when Shiro appears at his left, seemingly out of thin air.

“You know,” he leans in a speaks close to Lance’s ear. “Hippos are Keith’s favorite animal.”

Lance turns to look up at him, confused, before Shiro gives him a knowing smile and walks away. Hippos? Okay, weird, but also kind of cute. When Lance re-examines the prizes, he spots a large pastel blue hippo near the back, with big button eyes, exaggerated stitching, and a white bow around its neck.

“That one,” he tells the game attendant, pointing.

Keith comes trotting back with a soda in each hand a few minutes later. He stops short when Lance comes up to him with the prize hippo in his arms, easily the size of a dog. Keith’s eyes go wide.

“Told you I’d win,” Lance beams, then holds out the stuffed animal. “Here you go.”

There’s an awkward shuffle as Lance takes the sodas so Keith can take the hippo, and Lance absolutely notices how Keith hugs it to his chest.

“Thanks,” Keith tells him, and his cheeks are pink in a way that has nothing to do with his sunburn.

Keith keeps holding the stuffed animal as they walk around, earning him a few stares. Lance has to admit he looks adorable - all sharp and intense, holding a giant fluffy toy like it’s precious treasure. They find the Racho Alegre food truck and Lance buys enough food for five people, setting the trays of empanadas, pork tamales, fried yucca fruit, papas rellenas and fried green plantains. He films a little, too, Keith protesting with a “don’t film me eating!” Lance passes Keith a mate soda and instructs him on how to properly enjoy Cuban food, and is pleased when Keith seems to enjoy all of it.

He might like the guy, a lot, but if Keith had ended up hating the food he grew up with? It might have been a deal breaker.

They chat at the picnic table for a good half hour as they digested, then walk around some more, Lance filming on his phone here and there. He spots the scooter rental place nearby, and eagerly points at it. But when they get closer, he frowns.

“Aw man,” Lance bemoans. “I was thinking it’d be cool to drive up to the hill to watch the air show, but all the scooters are rented out.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “They’re not? There’s a whole bunch lined up.”

Lance shrugs. “Yeah, but those are the 50cc engine ones. You need a motorcycle license for those.”

“Yeah?” Keith looks unruffled. “I have one.”

Lance hears a record scratch in his brain. “You do?”

With a chuckle, Keith motions him towards the rental desk. “Who do you think test drives the bikes when Shiro’s done with them?”

Lance held the hippo, which he’d dubbed Blue, while Keith filled out paperwork, showing his motorcycle ID and insurance card. Lance caught a glimpse of it, and cooed.

“Aww, short hair!” He smiled at the photo of a younger Keith, scowling at the camera, and noticed two things: first, Keith didn’t have a middle name, and second, there were little tufts of what might be considered a mullet sticking out from behind his neck.

Keith shoved his ID back into his wallet. “Is your photo any better?”

“Actually,” Lance pulled his wallet from his back pocket and produced his driver’s license. “It is.”

Lance was proud of that picture - he was one of the only people he knew that actually took good ID photos. It was like a superpower. Keith was staring at his ID, his eyebrows raised.

“Leandro Sebastian McClain?” He asked.

“Uh.” Lance’s face flushed hot. “Old family name. Lance is kind of a nickname.”

Keith’s smile as he handed the ID back was magical. “Cool.”

Helmets secured, Lance climbed on the back of the dinged-up rental bike behind Keith as he started up the engine, giving him quick directions to the hill that overlooked the bay. Then, with Blue shoved between them, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s middle. They took off, and Lance felt a surge of adrenaline as they rode. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d been on a real motorcycle, and it was as scary as it was exhilarating. It was also cold, even the warmth of the sun unable compete with the wind that whipped past them. Lance hugged Keith tighter, wishing there wasn’t a stuffed animal between them.

It took a good ten minutes to drive up to the hill, and by the time they arrived, the wind had all but chilled Lance to the bone. The weather was beautiful that day, but it was a different story when you were going 45 miles an hour. His t-shirt and loose button up had done nothing to protect him, and as they reached the hill and stepped off the bike and took off their helmets, Lance set Blue on the bike seat and rubbed at his frozen, goosebump covered arms.

“You okay?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Lance laughed a little. “Just kinda cold. Wind’s kinda brutal at that speed.”

Keith blinked at him. “Oh.” Then, like they were in a movie, he removed his leather jacket and deftly swung it around Lance’s shoulders, patting it against his arms. “There, that better?”

Lance willed himself not to melt, because holy shit. That was the most suave thing he’d ever seen. Keith was one seriously smooth bastard. He caught of whiff of the scent coming off the warm leather and blushed hard. It smelled so good.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, letting his fingers grip the edge of the jacket and pull it close.

They sat on a patch of grass nearby just as the air show was beginning. Keith watched with rapt attention as the jets performed aerial acrobatics, leaving bright trails of colored smoke that twisted through the sky. When it was over, Keith sighed beside him.

“I wanted to be a pilot,” he said, his gaze fixed on the sky where the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon.

Lance bumped his shoulder. “You still can be,” he said. “A pilot’s license can’t be that hard to get.”

Keith looked at the ground, shaking his head with a wry smile. “No, I mean… I wanted to be a fighter pilot. In the navy, or the air force.” He picked at a blade of grass. “But I wasn’t exactly cut out for it.”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked carefully.

Keith shrugged and leaned back on his hands. “I’m a high school dropout with a juvenile record,” he explained. “I’ve gotten my shit straightened out since then, but… that stuff sticks.”

Lance frowned. He was starting to realize just how little he knew about Keith - they talked a lot, but it was all superficial information. He didn’t know anything about Keith’s past, or his ambitions.

“It’s fine,” Keith said, interrupting Lance’s train of thought. “I can’t really complain about my life. I’ve got Shiro, I like working on bikes, and I enjoy my job. I’ve got it pretty good.”

Lance was glad to hear that, but it made him frown for a different reason. “Sounds like you’ve got it figured out. I have no idea what I’m gonna do.”

Keith hummed in questioning, and Lance let go of where he was clutching the jacket to wave his hand. “I’ve just been sort of… coasting for the last two years. I have no idea what I’m doing.” he chewed his lip. “YouTube is fun and all, but my dad keeps asking me what my career plans are, and I have no clue. I can’t just work cafe jobs forever, and Pidge is probably leaving after she graduates in a few months. I don’t even know where I’m gonna end up living.” He rubbed at his eyes.

Keith was quiet for a long time. “What about music?” he offered. Lance shrugged.

“Dunno if I want to go down that road,” he answered. “Being a musician is really unpredictable, unreliable. I doubt I could swing it.”

If Lance wasn’t spiraling into a pity-party, he would have appreciated how adorable Keith’s little pout was. “Well,” Keith offered. “What about teaching music?”

Lance blinked owlishly at him. “Say what?”

“I mean,” Keith started fidgeting. “You’ve said before that you like working with kids, and you play like four instruments, and you can read music…” He looked at Lance. “Why not combine them?”

Lance heard a record scratch for the second time that day. Holy crap. Holy crap. He’d never even considered it, but a career as a music teacher? That sounded… okay. That sounded good.

“I’d--” he swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken with excitement. “I’d probably need to get a degree in music education. But it’s doable.”

Keith beamed at him. “Yeah! Plus…” His face went pink as he looked to the side. “I was thinking, um. Since Pidge will be leaving and all, and there’s a good school in Springdale, you could..” Keith bit at his lower lip. “You could move there. With m-- with us.”

Lance inhaled softly as he looked at Keith. The sun had turned golden, lighting his face and making him glow, and it took Lance’s breath away.

“Also,” Keith put his hand over Lance’s where it rested on the grass. His fingers were shaking. “I, uh.” His voice dropped, so quiet Lance could barely hear. “I really like you.”

Lance gasped. Keith’s confession was so sincere and scared and it made his heart thump against his ribs, a wide smile cracking his face. Oh god, it was happening. He’d fantasized about this moment more times than he could count and it was happening, up on the hill overlooking the bay, with the beautiful sunset and Keith’s jacket around his shoulders. He had to be dreaming.

“I really like you,” Lance told him, turning his hand to thread their fingers together. “A lot.”

Keith huffed a little laugh and oh, he was so gorgeous, his hold on Lance’s hand tightening. Lance wants so badly to kiss him.

“Go out with me?” Lance asked.

Keith’s face fell, shock replacing the gentle smile he’d been wearing. “Oh. Um.”

It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped on Lance’s head as Keith pulled his hand away. Had he misread everything anyway? Was that too forward?

“I was thinking,” Keith began, his voice shaking a little. “That we could just… get to know each other more first?” He began clasping and unclasping his hands. “I’ve never really been in a relationship, plus we live five hours apart, and…” He pouted. “I mean, I didn’t even know your name wasn’t Lance until twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Oh. Keith… had a point. Lance didn’t even know he had a motorcycle license until today. It was probably a good idea to get to know Keith better before attempting to dive headfirst into romance. Lance felt the relief like a physical weight. “You... wanna take it slow?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Lance could barely believe this was real. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against Keith’s and laughed softly.

“Sounds good to me.”

He thought this would be a good time to kiss, but they didn’t, eventually pulling apart to drive the bike back to the rental shop by the fairgrounds. Lance kept Keith’s jacket, slipping his arms through the sleeves and pressing his chest as close to Keith’s back as he could for the ride.

.

They made a trip to Lance’s car to stash Blue in the trunk for safe keeping, and as the sun was setting, grabbed a couple of beers and headed to the meeting point they’d arranged with everyone to watch the fireworks. Allura and Shiro had already spread a blanket out on the grass and were chatting. Keith and Lance took a seat near them, sitting close together.

Allura laughed, then Lance remembered his promise to Romelle. He whipped out his phone.

(+328) hey ‘melle you wanna come watch the fireworks at the fair??

(+396) Lance I just finished a 10 hour shift, that’s a hell no

He frowned, then discreetly aimed his camera at Allura and snapped a photo just as she was laughing, then sent it.

(+328) but cute girl looks lonely

There’s a long pause.

(+396) BE THERE IN 15

Pidge and Hunk eventually joined them, just as the grassy field was becoming crammed with people wanting the best seat for the fireworks. Beside Lance, Shiro looked a little odd, swaying slightly, his eyes dilated.

“Shiro?” Lance asked, keeping his voice down. “Are… are you high?”

Then Shiro laughed loud, threw his head back and really laughed. “Nah, no. Well, okay, yeah. Kinda.” He shrugs. “Fireworks kinda freak me out, after - y’know. So I took a xanax. They make me loopy as fuck, but I didn’t want to miss this.”

Lance blinked. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Shiro cuss before.

Romelle arrived twenty minutes later, just before the fireworks were scheduled to start. Lance did introductions and was pleased to see Romelle take a seat next to Allura, the two of them immediately striking up a conversation about coffee. Mission accomplished.

When the fireworks started, Lance leaned into Keith, feeling Keith return the motion. It was nice to not have to hide his affection anymore, or stay on guard. And if Lance watched the fireworks from the reflection in Keith’s eyes? Well, that was no one’s business but his.

After the fair, they retreat to Lance’s apartment to hang out and chat. Shiro is coming off his xanax and is having trouble staying awake, perking up only when Keith hands him a glass of water. Romelle and Allura trade social media handles and Lance feels a little smug about getting to play matchmaker for them. But mostly, he’s happy about Keith, who sits so close to him, who let Lance keep wearing his jacket.

It’s late and Allura decides they need to go, so everyone piles out of Lance’s apartment at once. Keith is the last one out, and Lance shyly lets the jacket slip off his shoulders and hands it back.

“Thanks,” He says. Keith grins.

“Anytime. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Once the door closes, Lance leans his head against it, grinning wide. He gets about sixty seconds of peace before Pidge and Hunk lay into him.

“Please,” Pidge groans, “Please tell me you two are dating now.”

“Nope,” Lance grins wolfishly at her as Pidge flings her body backwards onto the sofa with a howl of frustration. Hunk just smiles knowingly at him.

“But you’re going to. Right?”

Lance toes off his shoes and goes for his room. “Eventually.” From the couch, Pidge yells that she hates him.

.

The next morning they have an early brunch at Lance’s favorite diner on the marina, trading stories of their adventures at the fair. Pidge and Hunk show videos on their phones of the rides and games they played. Lance films again, and takes a group photo of all of them with their mimosas and fancy biscuits.

When Lance sees them off for their drive back to Springdale, Keith pulls him into hug. It’s soft and nice and Keith is so warm, Lance taking a deep breath and inhaling his smell. When they pull apart, Keith’s eyes are glittering.

Lance waves at the car as his three friends drive off, feeling happy and light.

.

Continued in part seven!