#also i like the implication that pen had to keep an eye on the kids too

[lafaiette]

I finally found Pen's Chinese romance lines :')

(You can find more comparisons here and here by the way)

First, something sweet to start with: Jasmine calls Pen, Burgess, and Miguel "uncle"! (叔叔)

Jasmine to Andy: Uncle Peng Hu thinks he's the most beautiful man in the world. We can secretly put a mirror in his room, so he'll look at it all day long and we can sneak out to play!

And now, I'll start with the Romance Quest - I included only the Chinese version of the dialogue happening after giving him the Heart Knot, because the post is already pretty long!

Chinese: Well... little weakling, you gave me this Heart Knot. I thought about it seriously... You have always been nice to me. You often praise me, give me gifts, and help me run errands everywhere. Maybe I have really found the one, the most special person to me. Someone who loves me as much as I love myself! Oh, this is so surprising to me... Little weakling, before we go further with our current relationship, I have to speak with you. I have to make sure you are sincere to me! Everyone knows that I am a golden bachelor. If you are with me just to show off and make yourself look good at some workshop awards ceremony, I will not allow it! What I want is true love... And I still have to understand if my fascination with you is not just for your body, but also for your personality… Yes, that's right. All this time, I called you "little weakling", not because of contempt for your figure, but because I couldn't take my eyes away when I saw your small body without muscles. It’s like seeing an uncultivated land with unlimited room for exercise. It’s so charming! There is only one way to test whether there is love between us... and that is - Fighting! An adrenaline-filled battle! Drenched in sweat, bloody, and bare-knuckled! Yes, the fastest way to get to know someone is to fight with them! Builder: 1) Then let’s go! -> Pen: Good! Let's meet tomorrow at the gate of the Paradise Lost ruins. Let's fight side by side to destroy those robots from the corrupt era and beat fierce drumbeats on their remains with our fists! I’ll go first! Remember to wear protective gear and be prepared. All for romance! Builder: 2) After falling in love... shouldn't you go on a date? -> Pen: Haha, that's what ordinary people do. I don't care for those old-fashioned ways of falling in love. Only when fighting can I feel truly alive! Builder: 3) But we have already fought many times... -> Pen: Many times?! It's never enough! I'm a fighting expert! For me, this is true love, nothing else but pure fighting and strong love!

Meeting Pen in front of Paradise Lost: Here you are, little weakling! I've been waiting for you for a long time, and I'm a little bored... Let's not waste time, let's hurry in and kill everyone! Get ready, little weakling! Let's show those robots real fighting skills and send them all the way back to their corrupt era! Not bad, little weakling, you have been exercising recently! Robot, take my blow! Punch! Fighting with you... makes my heart surge! That move is awesome, little weakling! Don't let them escape, leave no one behind! Haha, fighting with you is more exciting than I imagined! The thought of being able to "seal love" with you and fight these robots to confirm our relationship... my heart is beating fast! Let the battle become more intense! Come on, let's go in! Awesome, little weakling! It's been a blast all the way. Now there's only one last step left to make our date today even more perfect - Yes! That's it! A powerful elite monster! Come on, little weakling! Show your fists and give the big robot in this corrupt era the coolest blow! Haha... so refreshing... This feels so right... Little weakling, what do you think? I’m having too much fun today... ha, wait! I got it, the most important step is missing!

English: I'm afraid this moment cannot last forever… We must return to the hustle and bustle of city life… But let us always remember this place. Our lovers cocoon where, for one brief evening, the world was ours... Outside Paradise Lost: Goodbye, my love! Expect to see me again soon… I'll swing by your place later for a major make-out sesh!

Chinese: I really want to stay with you for a while longer! But I have to go protect Sandrock. Let us remember this moment and this feeling. No one can take away the energy of this love... … Goodbye then, my dear! I'm looking forward to seeing you next time …… I will definitely have a more exciting date with you!

English: You fell from a cliff and survived? Did someone help you? Or did you simply claw your way back to safety, and crawl to my feet just to see me again. You truly do love me, don't you? Chinese: You fell off a cliff and came back alive? Could it be that someone more powerful than me saved you? Alas, I missed an opportunity to protect you.

English: Knight, Protector, Enforcer, Big Daddy Love Sponge… I go by many names. Chinese: Besides, Knight is just a title. Guardian, Big Brother, Heart-throb... these are my titles!

English: Alright… fine. You want the truth? You can't handle the truth! But… here it is anyway: Miguel totally brainwashed me! Yeah, that's it… He told me, uh, Duvos rules and stuff, and… I was in a bind! I have multiple obligations! Do you have any idea how expensive the holidays are when you're shopping for twelve separate lovers who all think they're my one and only? Plus with Sandrock failing… I had no choice, I needed the money from his scheme… He said if I protect him, he'd give me a portion of his dirty money. Now that I think about it… say, do you think he could be some kind of high level Duvos operative? Certainly seems like it. Not trying to do your job for you or anything, though…

Chinese: Okay, okay, let me tell you... [Player's Name], your pal Peng Hu didn't know anything before he met that bad guy Miguel! Just eat, sleep, and protect the town every day. Until one day he told me that he was working for Duvos, trying to win me over, and saying a lot of things that made sense... I was short of money at that time, so I fell into his trap. Anyway, I am also a part-time worker. What is the difference between working for Sandrock and working for Duvos? Besides, with Sandrock being the way it is, I was saving myself. He asked me to protect him. As long as I did it, I would get a share of the embezzlement money. So I got involved in all this. Could that guy Miguel be a senior member of Duvos? An agent? Maybe he really is! Of course, that's the job of your militia group [Civil Corps], so I won’t say more.

English:

Builder: "How could you do this to me?" Pen: "What can I say, sometimes country trumps love…" Builder: "Please stop…" Pen: "I'm sorry, gotta fulfill my KPI, you understand!" Builder: "I still love you." Pen: "I know." Builder: "You were ugly anyway!" Pen: "Ooph, that might have hurt a mere mortal, but I know you know deep down in your heart that it's not true!" "Hm… to finally face you as my true self… it's invigorating! Now quit playing hard to get, Skinny, and take your place at my side!"

Chinese:

Builder: "How could you do this to me?" Pen: "What else can I do? The Empire is more important than love." Builder: "Don't do this to me..." Pen: "Sorry, [Player's Name]. This is my job, and I have to earn enough performance [points]!" Builder: "I never stopped loving you." Pen: "I know." Builder: "I stopped loving you a long time ago anyway!" Pen: "Haha, that doesn't hurt me. ["That sentence has no deadly effect on me."] Don't deceive your heart, you must still love me deep inside!" "Today I can finally face you with my true identity, and I'm actually very happy. Who doesn't want to be honest with his lover, little weakling? Why don't you come to my side, eh?"

English: I heard from someone in the capital that they experimented on him to make him stronger. Chinese: I heard that someone in the capital specifically conducted experiments on him, that's why he is so strong.

English: Ha! Know one thing about me, Skinny: any declarations I made on behalf of us was true. I make no mistakes, neither in war nor in love. You want proof? Well, it's not like I go around giving everyone nicknames! No… you were special in that regard. Perhaps it was always our destiny to be together… But I'm afraid that thread of fate has been cut short. I have chosen my country over love. Such is the duty of a Duvos Knight. …That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it…?

Chinese: Haha, one good thing about me is that I put real feelings into every relationship. I don't like to give people random nicknames either! Perhaps, ever since the moment I called you little weakling [Skinny Arms], you were destined to be my one and only love. It's just that we're different, and I had to sacrifice our relationship for the greater good of my country. Are you satisfied with this answer?

English: "Goodbye, [Player's Name]. It was... fun. Chinese: Farewell, [Player's Name]. This time it's for real. You're free.

The Protector's description, called "Guardian of Love" in Chinese:

A very delicate bracelet that protects the wearer's wrist. Wearing it gives the wearer a feeling of being emotionally confined. Perhaps this feeling is similar to what Peng Hu often said, "Marriage is a boring bondage".

Pen's letter in Chinese:

Dear [name], I've had a little more time to think lately in this so-called Atara Maximum Prison, and I'm more than a little sorry that I couldn't bring you along to accompany me. Well, it's my fault. Anyway, you are still the most beloved lover I have ever been with, and one of the few that I continue to miss even after a breakup. So, I'm going to forgive you. Yeah - I forgive you.I don't think there's a chance we'll ever be together again. You're just doing what you're supposed to do in your position, so there's nothing to complain about. I should have tried my best to recruit you from the beginning, and it would have been the best way to keep you with me. Of course I don't blame you, you're indeed excellent. I also left you a final challenge. In some ruins, there are a few of my most valuable things, and if you can get them, they're yours. It should be easy to get there, using the tricks I've taught you. My dear little weakling, this is the last time I'll call you that, I believe in your abilities. Remember, don't slack off on your training. We won't meet again. (but 后会无期 can also mean "meeting at an unspecified/unclear date")

WELP, what more can I say :'D

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Accidental Knight and the end of the world (Field of Forget-me-nots au - what if?) -PART 2!!!!

Okay, so this is a what if off of second movie of the FoF au (this post), where Barb won. This was inspired by the fic "The Beginning of the End" by AnimationFan2006 on Ao3. Pls go give it a read. I highly recommend that anyone go to look at the rest of the Field of Forgetmenots au. And I had to split it in half because I posted the first one at 2:00 am. Here is that first post!

Now on to the meat of the story.

Our survivalist group is now mostly formed, Floyd, john Dory, Bruce, Demo and Crimp have met up with Tresillo, Wani and Keith in the pop forest. After some explanations Tresillo and Keith take everyone (minus John Dory he needed to hide Rhonda and Wani stayed behind to help him get back), back to the bunker through the tunnel network. Bruce ever since entering the tunnel hadn't been able to take his eyes of Keith. His parental instincts going into over drive from the moment that Demo said who the trolling was. Bruce may have been out of the loop for a few years when it came to the royal family, he was fairly certain they were made up of warm colored trolls, but that doesn't mean he isn't horrified by the implications of why this poor little kid was on his own. Floyd is on the same page. They both start asking Tresillo questions and get the truth, which isn't any better then the misconception.

Tresillo: Keith isn't the prince. Queen Poppy didn't have any ninos.

Floyd: Then why did Demo call him Prince?

Tresillo: Because Chico was captured along side Queen Poppy, and Queen Barb is an idiota. I don't know the specifics, but his hermano was the chief of security for the tribe, and some how Chico ended up going with them.

Bruce: Wait, I get the brother going, but their parents let a child go?

Tresillo: Once more pop troll, I don't have all the details, but from my understanding, his Papi is long gone. All he had was his Hermano.

Floyd: Then where is his brother?

Tresillo: *sigh* where the all the héroes go. Keith's brother was the first to stand up to Queen Barb, and the first to fall to her song.

Both Floyd and Bruce are horrified. This poor kid probably watching his brother sacrifice himself while trying to save him. Bruce is just thinking of how all the parenting book he read telling him how harmful an upbringing without a stable family unit can be for a kid. It also doesn't help that Keith has the same hair and eyes that Bitty B once had. They both decide that they were going to keep Keith safe, and find away to help Bitty and get Keith his brother back (not knowing their the same person).

Once back in the Bunker, they loop John Dory in and they do try to approach Keith, and give him comfort. Telling him that Big brothers would always come back for their little ones.

Keith: Would you do that for you're little brother?

Floyd: Of course.

Keith: Then why can't I believe you?

Keith fully knows who John Dory, Bruce and Floyd are, and what they did. He's going to subtly twist that knife he put in their backs every chance he got. They had twenty years to find Branch, and now that he was gone they just show up at the bunker like they own the place. He's polite to Crimp and Demo, Branch taught Keith manners after all, but he's not going to be civil with Brozone. And he's certainly not going to tell them who Branch became.

During their stay at the bunker, John Dory and Demo join in on the excursions, to capture Zombies and round them up in a pen in a dark corner of the woods. While Bruce and Crimp stay in the bunker with the children, and Floyd while he recovers. This allows DJ to start to help more with the outside work. John tried to object at Keith going out with them, but he's quickly proven wrong when Keith proves to know the forest better then any of them. When John asked how Keith knew all this stuff, the trolling only ever answered, "My brother taught me." John feels very strongly when it comes to learning about Keith's brother. The whole situation kind of feels close to home. After all he was saddled with his brothers after his parent's death, just like Keith's brother, and from what John could tell, the brother did a fantastic job. Keith could clearly take care of himself, and he adored his brother, it took a very strong person to be able to raise a child like that after losing your parent. He was certainly stronger then John ever was, All he managed to do was break his already broken family apart further. Sometimes he would wonder if Keith knew that, and it was the reason why the trolling was so cold to him.

At some point, Floyd wouldn't have been able to sleep one night and He would stumble on to a Keith who had fallen asleep while working on a book. He picks the trolling up, and starts to take him to bed. Tresillo would be up and point out that Keith had been sleeping in his brothers room and gave his to the girls. Floyd would follow this information and tucked Keith into his brother's bed. He would put the book on the nightstand while tucking the trolling in and knock said book off of the nightstand as he turned to leave. Said book is a photo album as Floyd would soon learn, and landed open to a page with a single picture. A picture of Keith and an older blue troll cuddled up on a hospital bed asleep, the trolling's hair obscuring half of the older trolls face. At first Floyd just figures it's Keith and his brother, and find the photo cute...until he notices the green leafy vest on the bed next to them. And everything clicks.

Floyd runs out of the bedroom and wakes up his Brothers, dragging them to his room to show them the photo. John Dory and Bruce immediately recognizes the adult as Branch. Sure his hair was darker, but John and Clay's hair darkened as they got older. It's all just confirmed when they take the picture out of the album and flip it over, reading on the back, "Three Days until Branch can come home. Boys are celebrating early with snuggles! :] " Floyd would continue to to flip through the album, while Bruce and John spiral over this revelation. Their baby brother had a baby brother?! He was in the hospital at some point?! For what?! Who took care of Keith during that?! Grandma?! Who was the dad that Keith mentioned?! And they didn't know any of it. Eventually the older two siblings are pulled out of their panic with a shocked gasp from Floyd, who found the earlier pictures, from Branch's grey days. How on earth had they let their baby brother go grey....They spend the rest of the night just going through the album. Seeing Branch and Keith, Branch as grey, Branch missing and eye, their brother with a pink female troll, and an older troll that looks almost like a purple haired keith (they all assume that this was Branch's adoptive father, as Rosiepuff isn't anywhere to be seen).

In the morning the three of them confront Keith, they do so gently, at first believing that Keith simply didn't know about them, however they we're into a very rude awakening when Keith says, "I know who you are, I know what you did, but unlike you I know the aftermath. We're not family. Family doesn't abandon each other." And well, there's little they can do about that...other than try and make it up to Branch by protecting Keith and saving him.

Sadly, things aren't as safe at the bunker at they originally thought. The group had been capturing zombies and storing them away on the other side of the village, until they could find a cure. They didn't expect a Rock patrol to find where they were keeping the horde, and the group is forced to relocate, sealing up the Bunker so that the Rock trolls can't find it. Keith tries to get them to go to Bergentown but JOhn Dory is driving so that wasn't happening. They travel passed bergentown, and look for a place toe shelter. Rhonda needs a rest after two days of travel, and they stop at an old abandoned golf course. The kids immediatly want to check out the living horror movie place, the adults follow. DJ trips on a wire and the clown activates. Keith Marches up to the clown, little bow drawn, just like Branch would've done, much to Brozone's horror. Viva pops out giving Keith a giant squeeze, and pulls the group further into the putt putt course.

Keith doesn't like a the puttputts at first glance, they look feral like a predator and it makes him uncomfortable. He lived with a grey Branch he knows what paranoia looks like, this this was different then what happened to Branch. This was worse. He warns the other trollings and considering that Keith was a good judge of character, they take him seriously.

After reuniting with Clay, both him and Viva pull the brothers, Tresillo, Demo and Wani into a private meeting. While DJ and Crimp take the kids to get fries. Viva tries to should Keith off on to DJ, but the trolling follows them into the meeting room and remains stubbornly in his seat.

Viva: Look Keith sweetie, we're going to have an adult talk in here. You'd probably have more fun with your friends.

Keith: I'm not here to have fun, miss viva. I'm here to talk business.

Clay: Look kid, a lot of the stuff we're going to be talking about is, scary and very serious.

Keith: You want to talk serious fun boy? My family is currently brainwashed or imprisoned, I've lost my home to a maniac, and now I have to deal with people like you talking down to me, because I'm a child. I'm not here for fun, I'm here for progress.

Demo: *whispering to Wani* Are you sure he isn't the prince?

Demo's comment make's Viva ask questions, to which she learns that while Keith wasn't in fact Queen Poppy's heir, he was still the closest thing and considering that's what the rock empire believes their keeping up the ruse so that there's less of a chance they'll brainwash or kill Keith on sight. Viva is ecstatic to learn that her baby sister is alive, and grows horrified to learn that poppy's currently held captive in rock troll territory. Clay doesn't believe them, mostly it's his emotions regarding John Dory and now keith's jab that are making his judgement poor, but he convinces himself that what trolls would be hostile to them when there was bergens to worry about, and how could they trust what a kid is saying. Though, he holds himself as Demo, Tresillo and Wani's stories match up with Keith's.

After being convinced about the dangers of the Rock trolls, Clay and viva immediately make plans to go full on lock down. No one goes in no one goes out. Everyone objects to this. Wani, Tresillo, and Demo, knowing that the plan would never work with Rock troll weapons. While Keith and the other brothers want to go get Branch (one of the few things they can agree on).

Clay: Wait, wait, you just spent like the last twenty minutes explaining why these guys were dangerous, and now you want to go into their territory.

Keith: I want my brother back.

Clay: from what you told me kid, he's gone. You need to move on.

Keith: Just because your too much of a coward to get your brother back, doesn't mean I am! Then again I guess you're already used to throwing him to the bergens to save you're own skin!

Clay: what are you talking about?

Keith: You probably never cared about Branch in the first place, after all you left him to die once already.

Clay: WHO IS THIS KID?!

Brozone: *Share's glances*

Floyd: Clay, Branch is keith's brother.

Mean while in Volcano Rock City, Hickory finally found a way to make contact with the imprisoned Queen and remaining un-zombified pop trolls. He might not have been able to get to the cells himself, but he found someone who could. Jovi was a mixed troll (rock and celtic), who didn't under any circumstance agree with Queen Barb's conquest. It took a bit to convince him to help, but Hickory manages it. Being a nurse, with a family member on the medical board, Jovi managed to get clearance to access the prisons underneath the guise of mandatory check ups and patch jobs on minor wounds. When he finally opens the cell that held Poppy he was in for a sorry sight.

Poppy had been completely crushed by her imprisonment. Her home destroyed, her friends put in danger, and her family...Her dad had been turned but she wasn't sure what happened to him after that. Cooper is imprisoned like her and they weren't allow to see each other. No one will tell her what happened to Keith, and Branch...Branch was gone. The man she loved secretly had been warped away by the powercord. She saw him everyday, but it isn't her branch. Her Branch wouldn't taunt her with her failures. Her Branch wouldn't hold his own sword to his neck making threats to hurt himself, her Branch wouldn't lie about finally being happy after being turned. After a month she wanted Branch to turn that sword on her, or for Barb to corrupt her. Her color had long bled away, there was no hope in her prison.

That is until a dull blue troll with golden streaks in his hair comes to her cell. Jovi tells her everything, that keith escaped and that he nad Hickory were working on a way out of their. Poppy breaths a sigh of relief that Keith got away and she wants to believe him about the rest, she really does, but she can't. Jovi tells her it's okay, he just asks her to be ready to take a chance when the time comes.

The snack pack are a little more receptive to Jovi's news, and their ready help however they can. Even if waiting like Jovi asked is hard. Right now their trying to establish contact with outside help and that could take time. Smidge mentions that they used bloodhound beetles to send messages in the village and it gives Jovi an idea. Volcano Rock city didn't have bloodhound beetles, but they had something similar. Fruit bats could travel for miles, if given something to smell for. With a little help from a friend of his who trained therapy bat's and one of Demo's old bandanas that Hickory found they manage to send a message out.

Things at the putt putt course had been tense for the passed few days. Viva and Clay had held firm about their desicion to hunker down, and no one was happy about it. John managed to get viva to let Rhonda in but that was a small comfort to him. He feels like a sitting duck and he's not the only one, Tresillo and Wani are just as stir crazy as him. Bruce spends most of his time keeping the peace, Clay is hostile towards everyone but him and Floyd, and is letting his anger take control of his actions, John can't make suggestions because "he can't stand it when he's not in charge", Tresillo, Demo and Wani can't help because "they don't understand how things work here" DJ and Crimp don't even try. And Clay certainly doesn't listen to Keith. Bruce had been trying to get everyone to at least agree on a plan, and so far he felt powerless. Oringially he thought thagt Floyd would back him up, but Floyd was too busy trying to take care of that Keith kid.

Key work trying, Keith wouldn't let any of them near him. It hurt really, watching Floyd follow this kid around like a lost puppy. Bruce's theory was that Floyd thought he could redeem himself after failing to protect branch if he could keep Keith safe, keep his other little brother safe. Clay thought it was stupid, the kid wasn't their family. Sure he was close to Branch, that much was clear after he saw the photo album, but that didn't mean Keith was there brother. The kid didn't want to be their brother. Bruce had let Clay vent to him about all these harsh feelings, but he also made his younger brother swore never to tall Keith about them. Even if the kid hated them, he was still a kid that had lost all of his family, the last thing he needed was rejection.

Viva had tried to talk Clay into speaking more with his brothers, but she knows it's a losing fight. Viva had been talking more to DJ suki, trying to learn all about her sister, and slowly the DJ words have been getting to her. "Why don't you go get her" "CJ's mom, was my big sister, I knew I could count on her." "Sometimes family's worth the risk." It was starting to break her resolve. After all her dad had once, launched a full-blown escape to save poppy, why couldn't Viva do that for her sister. When she went to clay about it, he shut it down though, they had no way of planning such a mission. They didn't know where her sister was kept, they didn't have a way to get the team there and back, and they didn't know what the Rock trolls were capable of.

All this changes when a small fruit bat flutters into the golf course with a letter addressed to Demo.

----

there will be a part three.

[getinthefuckingcarkitten]

It's short wait for her at Harper's office, as always. The doctor is surprisingly accomodating whenever she stops by, and Avery isn't sure if it's the money talking or something else that makes her so cooperative. This makes all interactions with the good doctor so very uncomfortable.

"How have you been?" Harper asks, smiling pleasantly. She has one of those unsettlingly calm faces. It might be comforting for something else, but to Avery it's like a still lake. Probably swarming with bacteria and parasites, that is.

"Fine." Avery is always curt to her, albeit polite. "I just want my prescription. I have work today until later, and i'm all out of my medicine."

"On a sunday?" Harper's eyebrows shoot up. "My, that must be stressful."

"You're also working on a sunday." Avery points out, with a hint of a frown on her face.

"Yes, but i like my job." Harper gives her another one of those unnerving, placid smiles.

Avery doesn't like the implication of her words, but she keeps quiet. She needs to stay on the doctor's good side, at least until she gets another supplier.

"And you're in luck." Harper says, getting up to grab something in a cabinet behind her desk. "I've just gotten samples of your prescription, so you don't even need to go to the pharmacy."

She holds out two little bottles of pills, unlabeled, unlicensed opiates. Likely stronger than the stuff she could buy anywhere else. Avery can't help but get a bit excited to feel that high again, as her tolarance built up over the years.

"That's nice." Avery smiles carefully. "How much?"

"Because it's you... I guess £20000 will do." Harper decides. "A discount for a regular. So?"

"Hey, that's steep." Avery frowns, but Harper seems completely unfazed, as always.

"You can always just grab the usual." Harper shrugs, setting the bottles down on her desk, then getting in front of them as she leans back on her desk. "Ah, i hate to see you looking so sad. I can give you a prescription for the pharmacy for the same price as always, or..."

"Or?" Avery raises an eyebrow at the doctor. She doesn't like her tone, but if it's a good offer...

"You can help me with research, and i'll dock the price." Harper's smile widens a bit as she says it. "Answer some questions for me, and i can do it for around... £15000. What do you say?"

Avery has blinks a little. That big of a discount, just for answering some questions? It had to have a catch, but... The temptation of something that could give her a decent high was too strong.

"Okay, fine, but make it quick. I have work." Avery hurriedly replies, and Harper's claps once like a little kid.

"Okay, great! Let me just..." The doctor turns and grabs a clipboard and pen from her desk, scribbling something on the paper. "Whenever you're ready."

"Let's get this over with already." Impatient, Avery has to hold back from rolling her eyes at the pretense of profissionalism.

"Right, first question. What drugs do you usually take?" Harper asks, and as Avery shoots her a glare, she explains. "Drug is an umbrella term that describes medicines, too, as i'm sure you know. I'm not implying anything here, miss Avery, please don't be offended."

"You know that already, then." Avery huffs, but Harper just chuckles a little.

"For the purposes of research, i can't assume anything about the subjects. Now, if you'd be kind to tell me..." She insists.

"God, fine." Avery reluctantly lists them, by brand rather than name, to emphasize their legal status just in case that file falls in the wrong hands. Harper seems a bit amused by this, but doesn't comment on it.

"You smoke, correct?" Harper asks, and Avery takes a moment before nodding.

"Just occasionally." She adds, making Harper shoot her a look. Whatever, she didn't need to prove anything.

"What about alcohol?" Harper continues.

"...Socially." Avery replies, and Harper sets down the clipboard.

"Miss Avery, i know i said i shouldn't assume anything about the subjects, but i'd like it if you were truthful." Harper almost sounds like she's begging, and Avery hates that it could work if she didn't know better. "Don't worry, nobody else is going to see this, and your name won't be on it. It's... Personal research."

Avery lets out a loud sigh as she looks away from Harper's pleading eyes.

"Fine, yes, i do drink more than socially, but i'm not an alcoholic or something! Put that down exactly like that!" Avery half-growls, her impatience getting the best of her, and she hates even more that Harper seems pleased by that.

As Harper takes her time writing, Avery looks at the watch on her wrist. She'll run late if the good doctor doesn't pick up her pace.

"Are we done?" Avery asks, not bothering to hide her irritation anymore.

"Two more questions." Harper grins at her. "Do you often mix alcohol and your usual drugs?"

"...Sometimes, so what? You said it'd be fine if the dosing was on the low side." Avery grumbles.

"It's usually fine, don't worry." Harper shakes her head. "Last question, how do you usually feel when you do that?"

She stares at Avery intensely, making her feel even more reluctant to answer.

"I feel fine." Avery replies, but Harper doesn't even bother writing it down. She wants details, clearly. "I don't know, i feel relaxed, my head feels lighter for a moment. Is that what you want to know?"

"A little more, if you will." There's a glint of something in Harper's eyes that Avery can't quite discern, maybe just a sick curiosity, or maybe something more dangerous.

"I... I get drunk easier. I guess. I suppose it makes me more willing to get drunk." Avery says, hoping that will satisfy the doctor, but she keeps staring behind her pink-tinted glasses, expecting even more. "Sometimes when i fall sleep like that and wake up i don't remember much, but it feels like a really good night's sleep."

Harper nods and quickly scribbles something, as Avery starts to tap her foot on the floor unconsciously, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. When Harper looks at her again, there's an intensity in her gaze that wasn't there before.

"I have another offer to make." Harper says, her grin widening as she reached for the bottle behind her. "If you take one of those right now, i'll give you another £5000 discount."

Avery feels a chill run down her spine, something telling her that this would be a bad idea. The alarm on her phone goes off and warns her that lunch break is over, and she can't thank herself enough for setting it up earlier.

"No, i'm already late." She gets up, and Harper's smile fades a little. "I'll just pay for the samples, thank you."

Before she even finishes speaking, the money is already out of her wallet and being shoved in Harper's direction, but the doctor takes an awfully long time before reaching for the bank notes. There's an almost forlorn look on her face as she hands Avery the bottles.

"Next time i might make some ajustments." Harper says, sounding a bit defeated, though Avery knows it means it might get more expensive. Her smile is back shortly after, though. "Please tell me if it's any good."

"Yeah, yeah, i'll be in touch, thank you." Avery can't hide her relief to have ended that crazy negotiation.

The doctor's eyes fixate on her back as she leaves the office and closes the door maybe a bit too forcefully. It occurred to her, maybe a bit too late, that this might entice Harper's curiosity even more. With a shiver, she hoped that those little pills were enough to stop her from having nightmares about prodding, curious little needles and scalpels reaching for her forehead, trying to pick her head open like Harper always tried to do.

[sugcrxspice]

Cheeks growing pink in a flush of irritation when he stuck his tongue out at her, the brunette scrunched her nose up in response. "Do I need to start keeping a running list of your fuck-ups so we can forget about this little lapse in judgment and call it square?" Ava warned, jabbing a finger in Min's direction for good measure. "Okay, I'm not gonna fight you on that one." Truly a feat for the young Adler, given her penchant for picking all kinds of fights. "I wouldn't have traded London for this snowy wasteland where dreams go to die. But still... uprooting your life sounds hard. Can't imagine that was easy on you." It was simply the way their friendship worked: childishly sticking their tongues out at each other one minute, and giving each other more sincere and heartfelt compliments the next (albeit begrudgingly and often through layers of sarcasm). This dichotomy was perfectly exemplified at Ava's reaction to his remark about her friendship making the move worthwhile, her eyes widening into a misty, affected pout. "Aww, Minnie, are you calling me a silver lining?" she jested, blowing right past the implication that their friendship also wasn't enough to constitute a step up in the world. But although the two seemed like polar opposites in terms of personality and how they preferred to engage with the world, Ava could empathize all too well with Min's compulsion to puff his chest out and save whatever was left of his pride, as she had been doing much of the same since she was a teenager.

Eyes following Min around the salon, too petrified by the idea that somehow, she'd make one wrong move and would risk ruining the designer bag, the brunette allowed her more straight-laced co-worker to take the reins just this once. She was typically inclined to take on leadership roles in all avenues of her life, no matter to what degree. But times like this brought out the panicked little girl in Ava, looking to anyone with a firmer grip on reality to keep her head screwed on straight. At his last ditch effort for a solution to her little conundrum, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, okay... I think keeping it in your bag could work. Do you have anything in there that could stain it, like pens or lip products?" she worried, anxiously shifting from foot to foot. "Oh, who am I kidding? You're way more organized than me." The sacrifice that Min was making just to keep her Tory Burch purse safe was not lost on her. Though she often came off as a superficial and destructive young girl, seemingly too focused on herself to notice the plight of others, Ava was more thoughtful than people gave her credit for. She knew just how much Min valued his space, so it seemed like a natural leap in logic that the real estate in his bag was no exception. Holding her breath as she carefully slipped the purse into his backpack, she let out a long breath when it slid right into place. "Thank Christ. I really owe you for this. Maybe I can pick you up a little thank you gift on my next paycheck," she offered with an earnest grin, her panicked expression softening considerably.

“All I said was that I wasn't stupid,” Min said, shrugging. “But if the shoe fits.” It was a jab obviously made in jest and his playful tone should have suggested as such, if the way he stuck out his tongue at her didn't. Now, to Min's mind, gutsy was just another word for stupid, with the sole thing setting the two ideas apart being whether or not you succeeded at the end of it. Min wasn't sure he had succeeded at very much but it was hard to say he'd failed either. Where did that leave him? “Then maybe I'm insane for coming here all the way from London, of all places,” said Min, with a slow, emphatic shrug. “Well, I mean, you're here so it's not all bad but it's hardly a step up in the world.” Yet the closer to ground he remained, the softer the fall would be. He'd been chased all his life by a fear of failure so great that it had caused him to stumble at every hurdle, like a self-fulfilling prophecy. He dressed up nicely and stood tall so as to give the impression of certain confidence but he wasn't someone with a whole lot of pride in himself. Anyway, he was no at accepting compliments that weren't purely superficial so, to save himself the embarrassment, he moved on.

Min finally stood up straight, moving to act rather than lounge around offering sarcastic remarks. He looked about himself, as though the ideal hiding place would just spontaneously reveal itself somehow. They couldn't leave it out anywhere too open because that was a theft risk; the chances of it actually happen, particularly without anyone noticing, weren't high but anything above impossible was best avoided. Even leaving it in the usual private places for staff seemed difficult. It didn't seem like Ava wanted anybody else asking questions, not from the way she'd conspiratorially revealed the bag to Min. He took a few trips up and down the main room of the salon before finally giving up right in the centre “I could put it inside my bag?” he offered, finally, as he turned to face Ava. “I don't know if it'll fit but we could give it a go?” This had actually been his very first idea but, for whatever reason, he felt a little strange about anyone seeing the contents of his work bag. He always felt the contents of a person's bag told a story, at least if you thought about it long enough. Although Ava likely had no way of knowing this, Min was making quite the sacrifice for her. (Or, maybe, just maybe, this was more of his usual overthinking.) He hurried off to retrieve his bag from its proper place and returned with a decently-sized leather backpack, which he dropped down on the counter in front of Ava. “See if you can cram it in.”

[getosboobies]

matchablossom fic recs for every mood <3

remember to check tags & warnings !

can't stop this feelings i got (this high)

summary: "It says 'you're handsome', this time."

Kaoru promptly choked on his water to laugh. "Wow, high praise," he teased. Kojiro stabbed his thigh lightly with his pen as retaliation. "Let me guess, if there's another one tomorrow, you'd collect all of them like old people collect stamps."

"Hey, they're beautiful!" Kojiro defended himself.

word count: 1643

Say It With Flowers

summary: It’s only as Hiromi’s driving away that the implications of the afternoon’s events come together fully in his mind.

First, he’s met both Joe and Cherry Blossom as their normal day-to-day selves.

Second, Joe and Cherry seem to be dating. Or something.

Third, Joe and Cherry still have absolutely no idea who Hiromi is.

Vaguely pre-canon. Joe/Cherry with Shadow POV.

word count: 6431

but i hedge my bets on love

summary: In which Kaoru recognises the poor timing of reminiscing over his ex on his way to a wedding.

word count: 8479

sugar on your tongue

summary: He isn't sure why provoking his best friend is so fun, but he can't stop himself from adding "thought I'd make something delicate, like you."

And yeah, he clearly has a death wish. Because Cherry's knuckles are still swollen from the last fight he got into, and he's suddenly crowding into Joe's space as he hisses "What did you just call m—" Joe picks up one of the desserts and pops it into his mouth before he can finish the sentence.

word count: 226

Does It Ever Stop?

summary: An exploration of what could have happened if Kaoru had been just a little less lucky. ( note: character death, made me cry lol)

word count: 881

How I Need You

summary: Kojiro takes Kaoru to the hospital and in his attempts to keep himself awake, Kaoru lets slip a few words that make Kojiro's heart leap.

word count: 3062

believe you when you say it like that

summary: “Carla,” Kojiro begrudgingly fits his thumb to the scanner outside Kaoru’s apartment.

“Joe.” Is it possible for an AI to sound disdainful?

But he’s let in anyway. He knows Kaoru well enough to duck, narrowly avoiding the beaded throw pillow Kaoru lobs at him.

word count: 2041

sunflower seeds

summary: A hacking cough, that’s what it is. Yellow petals with specks of blood, Kaoru didn't understand it at all.

(Or, Kaoru’s so hopelessly in love with someone, yet he doesn’t even know who he’s fallen for.)

word count: 6062

Do you still remember being young?

summary: “Remember when we were like that?” he asks his companion. Kaoru raises his sight from the glass of red wine between his fingers to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Young?” he replies, making Kojiro snort and roll his eyes.

“You just turned 30, Kaoru. You’re not old.”

word count: 903

hopeless and oblivious.

summary: “Wh- what?”

Adam doesn’t miss a beat.

“You’re hopeless. And oblivious.”

word count: 1120

can't sleep (without you)

summary: Joe wakes to the sound of his bedroom window creaking open. A moment later, his best friend is climbing through, all slender limbs and pink hair. And, okay, that's unexpected. Because it's nearly three o'clock in the morning, and more importantly, Joe's room is on the second floor.

"What the fuck, Cherry?"

Cherry closes the window with a shrug, "I couldn't sleep."

word count: 525

unexpected delivery

summary: In which Kaoru writes a love letter addressed to no one in particular that Kojiro happens to pick up one day.

word count: 2714

Things That We Have Been

summary: "I said, I overheard the kids and Shadow today. They were making a huge bet about us."

Kaoru hummed at that, his curiosity piqued a little. "What about us?"

"Langa said that we are dating, Reki said we're exes who still care about each other," Kojiro answered, opening his fingers one by one. "Miya, that little minx, said that we're still pining. Shadow said we're fuck buddies."

word count: 1877

A Magical City Called Paris

summary: "“I’m not a chicken!” Cherry snapped. Bingo. “And I’m not scared!”

Joe leaned forwards on the table, his face coming awfully close to Cherry’s as he smirked and said, “Then prove it.”

Cherry’s eyebrows shot up, then he frowned, grabbed his glass, gulped down the last of his drink and stood up.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go fucking dance, Kojiro.”"

*********

or, my version of what (really) happened on joe and cherry's alleged trip to paris.

word count: 2933

To the place where the sea sleeps

summary: " I love you, kojiro, " (note: character death)

word count: 783

Love Someone

summary: Kaoru brings dates to Kojiro’s restaurant but Kojiro often just whisks them away the moment they see him. Kaoru feigns annoyance, he couldn’t care less, and Kojiro’s just looking out for Kaoru, though he doesn’t want to admit it.

Alternately, two idiots think they’re smart but in reality, they’re just dumb childhood dorks in love with each other.

word count: 3049

endings (but also beginnings)

summary: "You're-" Reki starts, then stops, rocking back on his heels. "You're you."

Kojiro has no clue what that's supposed to mean. "I am?" he agrees, but it comes out sounding like a question.

He watches Reki fidget for a moment, clearly struggling to find the words he wants. "Um," he says. He's looking everywhere except his face. "How do you... how do you come out to someone?"

word count: 4063

only wanna be with you

summary: Taking a trip to Vegas. Drinking too much. Marrying your best friend. A tale as old as time.

The obligatory "we accidentally got married in Vegas" fic.

word count: 8641

i’ll make sure to add more at some point !! hope this is a good list for now :) feel free to leave your fics/recs in reblogs or replies !! i’ll check them out :)

[fayeimara]

Miya Osamu || Little Delights | First Meeting

SUMMARY. Osamu can't help but be intrigued when his daughter starts bringing home delicious desserts prepared by her best friend's mother.

PAIRING. You x Miya Osamu

GENRE. Fluff <3

WARNINGS. Suggestive content

Haikyuu! Anthology Series | It's Fate When Your Kids Are Friends

OSAMU | First Meeting > Second Date > Third Time's The Charm > Four Is Our Family

Osamu's made it just in time, right as the bell tolls to signal the end of his daughter's second day in her new school year. Standing back as a swarm of kids rush out of the brick building and into the arms of their waiting parents, he takes a moment to breathe and relax. Juggling his burgeoning restaurant with being a single parent isn't an easy job, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

He stands taller than many of the other adults around him and it's evident his little girl has no problem seeking him out as a black, red, and grey blur races towards him, a thrilled, "Papa!" reaching his ears and splitting his mouth into a wide, happy grin.

His arms are already open in a silent but enthusiastic response as he crouches down and then the bite-sized impact of his daughter is rocking him back on his heels, his reaction overly exaggerated as he pretends to almost fall over from the small force of nature that's all Miya Izumi.

Standing back up, Samu catches sight of another little girl who was trailing behind, wide eyes studying him before shifting to Zumi, his daughter turning back around to wave at her, proclaiming the girl as her 'bestest friend in the whole wide world'. The girl returns Zumi's enthusiastic wave with a quick raise of her small hand before her attention is caught by a pretty young woman, her own wide smile replacing her previously hesitant expression as she's warmly enveloped into welcoming arms with kisses peppered on her cheeks and forehead.

Her delighted giggles reach Osamu and his daughter as they turn around, hand in hand, to walk back to his car, small interaction soon forgotten as his little munchkin lists off the snacks she's looking forward to having on their return to his shop. She won't be able to finish half that list, he bets to himself with a quiet chuckle at his daughter's inherited exuberance for food as he securely buckles her into car.

It's not until they reach his second pride and joy, Onigiri Miya, that he finds the first little surprise tucked away in Izumi's not so empty lunchbox. When he inquires about the remarkably delicious looking set of biscuits he certainly didn't pack for her that morning, his daughter's response is that it's a thank you gift from her bestest friend, Reina, for the lunch she'd shared with the girl on her first day.

Well, a six year old certainly didn't bake these from the looks of it. It's only confirmed by his first taste, the texture and flavour beyond even most consistent home bakers, let alone a young child. Right? But a more pressing thought flags his attention, first.

"Did your friend not have her own lunch?"

"She did! We split because hers wasn't so good, even though her mama put so much love into it. But the treats were so much better so we decided to go halfsies and have best of both!" His daughter giggles with the oblivious sweet innocence of a child.

"And what about today?"

"Mhm. Same. But I liked the chocolate brownies yesterday much much better!"

Samu chuckles at her excitement and can't help but tease his precocious daughter, "Oh, and was it better than papa's food?"

Zumi's eyes widen as she contemplates the question with all the adorable seriousness she can muster, but loyalty must break free and run because her reply is, "Almost! So close, but I love papa's cooking more than anything in the whole wide world."

It seems the whole wide world is the current standard of measurement for first graders, but he appreciates the heartfelt sentiment behind her loving words.

After another moment of consideration, Osamu settles on the thought chewing at him and decides that tomorrow his daughter won't be giving up a portion of his food which she loves so much. No, she'll have double the amount to do with whatever she may please.

So briefly, that he doesn't even ponder on the sudden image, he's reminded of the warm reunion he witnessed between the little girl and the woman who he'd assumed was her nanny, but concludes is probably the girl's young mother. Based on the number of treats Zumi brought back, Samu's certain the woman had to have thoughtfully made extras of these baked goods for her daughter to have more than enough to share with friends and then some.

Well, it's definitely no skin off his back to make his daughter even the slightest bit happier by being able to help her share her savoury little delights with her new bestest friend.

It's on the third day of your daughter's return from her new school year that you're able to confirm that something is indeed amiss. The previous two days, the small portions of her lunch left uneaten were questionable, given her voracious appetite, however, when she returns with the lunch you made for her today still sitting wholly untouched in her cute little lunchbox, you finally sit her down to ask about it.

Her response is far from what you expected, "My friend's papa made extra lunch so we could both have something yummy to eat!"

You press your lips together to hide your amusement as you teasingly inquire, "Oh? Is that so? And I guess that means mama's food isn't so yummy after all."

Her eyes widen in dismay and mouth opens in an immediate denial that you know would be a lie to soothe your feelings. Even at such a young age, your beautiful baby girl is truly a kind and compassionate soul, she would dutifully eat anything you prepared no matter how lacking the meal might be and never utter a word to tell you the obvious truth.

Before she can manage to find the right words to faithfully express how much she loves your cooking, you lean in to kiss her on the forehead and pull back with a laugh, gathering her in your arms for a warm hug. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry I can't make you the food you deserve. But please don't ever feel the need to say otherwise to spare my feeling, okay? You should always be honest about what you like or don't like."

Her little arms find their way around you as she snuggles in, voice soft and words like a wise, old soul when she denies, "But your food is made with so much love mama. Zumi says some people are just better at other things. We both think you make the best yummies."

"The best yummies, hm?" You think about the various baked goods you add in to balance out for the healthy but tasteless lunches you're able to prepare.

They are indeed good, but baking has always been something that comes more naturally to you than cooking. An interesting distinction not many people might accept, but for you the former has always been an effortless science whereas the latter is more of a difficult art.

"Well I'm really glad you like those, but we do need to figure out what to do so you're not picking at your friends' food or going hungry."

She pulls back to send a serious look your way, exclaiming, "But I'm not picking at it, I promise. Zumi said her papa made extra just for me!"

You take a moment to consider her words. She made a similar implication in her earlier statement, that her friend's dad had made extra for them both. What does that mean? Did his daughter ask him to because she was sharing her food with Reina? Or did he somehow grasp the situation and is simply being generous?

A warm burn threatens your cheeks as you consider the awkwardness of accepting such a gesture from a complete stranger. While you appreciate the kindness of Reina's friend and her dad, it still somehow feels like a terrible imposition, as if you've burdened them somehow with your lack of skills to keep your child happily fed.

It's not like you can't cook good, healthy food. You're just painfully aware how bland the food you make can be, unless you spend three times the amount of time as anyone else would need to in order to prepare similar meals. But... studying the smile that's on your daughter's face, you can't help the twinge in your heart that reminds you how much more her happiness is worth than your pride.

You won't assume this will be a daily occurrence and you'll continue to make your daughters lunches so she never goes without, however, it'll be no extra trouble for you to make double the batch of baked goods than usual. After all, you usually account for the fact that she'll be sharing with friends and classmates anyways.

However, you're now determined there will be enough delicious snacks for Reina to share not only around at school, but also some treats for her sweet friend Izumi to take home for her generous parents. Perhaps, you think, it might be prudent to include a short message, thanking the man for his thoughtful effort.

Silent gratitude isn't very much to anyone ~ (So I hope you and your family will accept these.) Thank you for your kindness, Miya-san.

Osamu blinks, unaware of the small smile that curves his lips as he reads the delicate, handwritten note carefully wrapped around one of the cupcakes Izumi brought back home today. There are only three of the original twelve left, apparently, but the one he's just bitten into is as incredible as expected.

If he's correct in his assumption from the note addressed directly to him and included with today's delightful treats, then the little girl's mother has picked up on his small action and is returning the gesture to convey her thanks. The thought is confirmed by his daughter explaining that one of each of the three cupcakes is for their family.

Three for their family? Hm. Well, it's just him and Zumi, but he's sure his brother will be all over the remaining offering when he visits tonight. If there's any left for him that is. Probably won't be, it's really just that good and anyways, he doesn't need Atsumu nosing his way into this simple exchange as it is.

The following day, Friday morning, Samu pens back his own note, assuring the woman that no thanks is necessary. There's no reason for her to express her gratitude over what's really such a simple action for him.

That evening, he and Zumi enjoy some quality mochi delivered in a white, rectangular box with a pretty decently hand-drawn background scene at a spring festival on the cover. Two little girls, one that looks remarkably like his daughter and the other like her best friend, hold hands in the centre of the street dressed in traditional yukata and sharing a box of what he assumes is mochi.

As they much into the chewy treats, he watches and listens as his daughter points out the bright colours she and her friend chose to fill into what was apparently initially a blank canvas for them to colour on. Her delight at having a pink and grey yukata, even if only in a drawing, prompting him to make a mental note about looking into the clothing and any upcoming festivals.

Osamu makes a point of saving the box, childlike scribbles over the simple sketch leaving a warm feeling in his chest and a slightly wider smile gracing his mouth.

The response he receives the Monday evening (from his penned message the Friday before) is enough to prompt a full smirk that, this time, doesn't go unnoticed by him. The woman showed an interesting sense of humour and gracious acceptance with the first cupcake note. Then, a sweet and thoughtful disposition with the drawing included as part of the soft treat for the girls Friday.

But now, Samu sees a challenging firmness in her reply to his easy brush off of her thanks, delicate lines yet again adorning the small card carefully tucked into a pretty red ribbon that's tied around and decorating another white, rectangular box.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it ~ So please accept this gift without concern.

Sitting inside are four differently coloured, rounded treats that look familiar but he can't place off the top of his head. A quick search identifies the delicate confections as macarons, the colorful delights an absolute wonder as the airy crunch of the top and bottom shells simultaneously give way to a firm filling with the first bite, the sweet flavour almost dissolving on his tongue.

He and Zumi finish the box off in minutes, three of each flavour included to a total of four different flavours, so both he and his daughter each get seconds of their respective favourites.

The next morning, filled with anticipation at what new surprises you might include with the goods you send today, he's fully aware of the grin that stretches his face as he writes out a note of his own for you to receive later this evening.

The macarons were inspiring. Izumi and I definitely won't turn away any gifts you'd like to send our way. I wonder... what other surprises do you have up your sleeve? I sent a little something your way to inspire you too. - M. Osamu

The neatly written note returned, once again, on the back of the small rectangular card you'd last sent, brings a warm smile to your face. The various onigiri that came along with it, apparently with specific instructions communicated from Izumi to Reina that today's additional quantity is set aside for you specifically, stretches the amused curl of your lips into a delighted grin.

You split each of the four different types of rice balls with your daughter, listening to her input on the delicious food as she points out her order of most to least favourite. Although there's not a single one you wouldn't eat on any given day if given the choice, the food is simply divine.

Your note the following day is a compliment to the chef, with a cheeky inquiry as to what deities one must pray to in order to make food like that. His response is a swift rebuttal asking what cruel gods bless some with the skills to cook but others with the skills to bake, ironically echoing your own thoughts from the previous week.

So goes the back and forth for weeks, notes getting cuter, sassier, and more personal as jokes, challenges, and encouragements alike are enclosed among the lunches of two excited little girls, their own bond strengthening with this unique camaraderie between their parents, until you feel the peculiar sense that you know the man on the other end, without ever even having actually met him.

Then, one day, three weeks into the first exchange, you receive a note that makes your heart beat in your throat at the unspoken challenge which raises the stakes of the now familiar routine. It's a simple response to your unassuming request for the onigiri recipes you initially received as the first returned delight, a meal you and Reina have been craving since the first taste.

I can do one better and teach you. xxx-xxx-xxxx. - Osamu

There's no reason to be shy or hesitant, is there? After all, it's a kind offer that will only serve you and Reina well with your future attempts at her lunches. You can't count on Miya Osamu's kindness forever.

Fingers still shaking, you dial the number enclosed within and find the call picked up before the first ring even finishes.

"I wasn't sure ya'd actually call."

Oh, wow, that's a voice to melt hearts alright. You're still smiling as you immediately reply in beat, with the easy familiarity of your shared repartee over the last few weeks, "With an offer like that, how could I not?"

He's quiet for a second and you start to lose your smile, suddenly worrying that perhaps you've acted too familiarly with a man that's all but a stranger and offended him. But his next words, slowly expelled in a lazy but thoughtful drawl, have your heart beating fast for an entirely different reason, "I had a feeling ya'd sound as pretty as ya write."

Now you're the one that's silent but it's entirely because you're at a loss for words, this quietly charming man having stolen them right from the tip of your tongue.

A low chuckle breaks what you realized was actually somehow still a remarkably comfortable silence and then his delicious voice reaches you again, "I hope I didn't scare ya voice away. It'd be a shame now that I've only just heard it."

Okay so he's maybe much more of a flirt than the subtle hints you'd noticed over the notes, but then again, they were delivered through your daughters as messengers so it would be reasonable he would have toned it down. Then again, what kind of man flirts with a woman he's never met previously? He doesn't even know what you look like. Have you captured his interest solely through your mutual correspondence?

You almost snort, catching your thoughts and feeling like you're the main character to some historical romance. Maybe during a world war era. Mutual correspondence. Right. What are you even thinking? He's got you flustered already.

"Funny. I would never have imagined you would sound so pretty from the way you write." You're tempted to arch an eyebrow with your audible smirk but then you remember that it's not like he can see it.

"Ya think my voice is pretty, do ya?" His tone is full with soft satisfaction, "Maybe ya can tell me if it's better in person."

"And here I thought the offer on the table was for learning a delicious recipe."

You swear you hear the smile in his response, "Sounds like yer in either way."

"Sounds like I am." You concede in mock resignation but you're painfully aware that your words and following sigh sound more like a promise.

You and Reina find the charming storefront quite easily from Samu's instructions. It's finally the weekend, several days since your first call with him, and your handwritten notes have now upgraded into convenient, daily text messages.

He's definitely confident and teasing but not quite the overt flirt you briefly considered he might be from a few days ago. In fact, he's more calm and grounded, even if he can be a smooth talker, but you've quickly found that what came across as flirtatious was actually just him being honestly direct. Which is both exciting and flattering enough to make you nervous for this first real meeting today.

A soft chime sounds as you open the door to usher Reina through before following her in yourself. The first thing your eyes land on is a small girl running to your daughter like a heat seeking missile and the two collide in an adorably sweet hug, somehow understanding each other while seemingly talking simultaneously.

With a small smile on your face, you take a moment to survey your surroundings and find your bearings in this unfamiliar space. It's not an overly large area, focusing more on a cozy, comfortable atmosphere emphasized by the deliciously welcoming smell of various foods that make you feel right at home.

Your eyes run over the bar with stools lined against it before you do a double take, finally noticing the dark haired man that's leaning with his arms crossed against a door frame beyond it, watching as you examined his space.

He must be able to tell he's slightly startled you as an amused smile stretches his lips and he dips his head ever so slightly in greeting. "Welcome to Onigiri Miya."

"Thank you for inviting us, Miya-san." You bite your lip at your automatic formality, already certain what he's going to say next.

And he doesn't disappoint, eyebrow arching as he uncrosses his arms and, finally, steadily makes his way towards you, "I already told ya to call me Osamu. Or Samu."

Now you're smiling again because the situation is definitely out of the ordinary, the level of familiarity you feel with a man you're seeing for the first time can only be considered unusual. You take a moment to study him as he stops just before you, tall build with broad shoulders and a handsome face that looks like it belongs on a heartbreaker not a homemaker.

Your fingers itch to push back the locks of his hair peeking out from under his dark cap and falling over on side of his forehead, if only to have an excuse to run your hands through it. But that's definitely not appropriate no matter how comfortable you might already feel with this easygoing man.

"Right... Osamu, then. And of course, you can call me Y/n."

"Yer name and looks suit ya, just like yer voice and handwriting." He's got a small smile on his own face now and you're not sure if he's aware he basically just called you pretty. He doesn't really seem to do this on purpose, from what you've gathered.

You beam at him regardless and volley back, "Well, I can say the same for you too."

And for a brief second, that small smile splits into a quick grin that stutters the already erratic beat of your heart. Oh yes, this man is certifiably lethal in all the best ways.

"I'm happy to hear it. Now, let's sit ya down with the girls while I grab some things."

Izumi has already led Reina to a table by the window and Osamu gestures their way as he moves to lock the door behind where you came in and then moves off to the kitchen behind the bar again.

You notice with a little apprehension that the girls are sitting next to each other on one side of the booth still giddily talking together (although not over each other anymore) about friends and weekend plans and such, but you're not going to be the anxious oddball that separates them for seemingly no reason. Even if you're already sure of the overthinking you'll be doing at the thought of Samu sitting next to you in the booth.

He doesn't seem to think about it at all as he easily slides in, smoothly setting a plate and a tray with cups, glasses and a couple pitchers on the table just as you feel the left side of his body line up against your right. Okay, yeah, because this is totally normal for you. Not.

You hope neither he and especially not either of the kids can tell you're flustered, even as you feel the heat creep up your neck and flirt with your cheeks. Yup, normal day, normal day. Just a regular day with a new friend.

"Here ya go." You just hold yourself back from jumping when he hands you a cup from the tray and then leans over to pour what looks and smells like tea from one of the pitchers. If you're not going crazy, he's pressed even more against you for those long seconds, completely in your space even if it's not unwelcome.

He either knows exactly what he's doing or he's just one of those people that's never paid mind to polite social norms and rules of conduct that many prefer. While you're calming yourself down, he's already poured the girls juice from the second pitcher into their glasses and set out quarter plates in front of everyone.

You finally focus enough to take in the still steaming gyoza on the plate he'd placed down in the middle with confusion and ask, "I thought we would be making onigiri and eating it for lunch?"

"Of course, but I couldn't put ya to work on an empty stomach."

"Mhm." You give him a dubious look, you might have mentioned your early breakfast in one of your texts to him this morning, but you have a feeling that this is also an effort to make you and Reina feel comfortable in this space together instead of getting right into the cooking lessons planned for the day.

It's an incredibly thoughtful effort and that warm flush is threatening you again so you choose to tease him and deflect instead, "Somehow, I feel it's more about your empty stomach but okay, let's go with your version instead."

You lose the fight with the flush and flutters when he chuckles at your sassy retort, especially since you literally feel the vibrations melt from his body and into yours with the way he's still somewhat pressed into you. Does the man not have enough space in his own booth? Actually... you notice you can move closer to the window yourself since there's quite a bit of space on your side too but, then again, it would be a little obvious to shift now.

The girls pick up the fried dumplings by hand with happy exclamations as they bite right into theirs, you and Osamu following suit but not before placing another two on the plates in front of each of them and then splitting the remaining ones between you.

With a dip into the soy and vinegar sauce (chili excluded for the girls), you quickly bite into the first one and savour the sudden burst of flavour in your mouth. Oh wow, yes, this is exactly what your cooking is missing. This addictive, tasteful quality that makes you want multiple helpings of whatever's being served.

With a glance from the corner of your eye to the right, you meet Osamu's eyes studying your reaction and decide to ask the question on your mind, "You made these yourself right?"

"I did."

"Okay, they're hands down the best gyoza I've ever had." You compliment him genuinely before giving in to the urge to  tease him yet again because the flutters are back, if they ever even left, and you can't have him knowing just how much he affects you, "But who ever heard of serving gyoza in an onigiri shop?"

He must catch the light, teasing tone because he just smirks and throws right back, "Well if they're as good as ya say, maybe I should expand the menu."

"Oh no, don't do that!" You laugh with wide eyes, "Then Reina and I will never find space when we try to come back here during regular hours! Actually, I'm sure you're already always packed, hm?"

"Some days and times less than others, but there will always be space for the two of ya whenever ya want to visit again."

Oh yeah, it's a losing battle, the flutters are a full on tsunami of feelings now. Just push it away and chill. But then he adds, "And I can teach ya this recipe too. Anytime there's something ya like or want to try, just let me know. I'm sure we can make an amazing cook outta ya yet."

Your mouth drops open followed by your blurted question, "Why are you helping me so much? I'm sure this is a lot of time and effort for you too."

You hear the girls' conversation pause as they pick up on some subtle change in either your body language or demeanour, but Osamu's calm eyes just meet your wide ones, his lips sliding into a soft smile, as he simply answers, "Because I like ya."

You feel like you're back in grade school because you want to ask if he means that he 'like' likes you or just... likes you. But there's no way you're going to ask that question, not only because it feels a bit asinine but because that's not a conversation to start in front of both of your daughters.

You look over to the girls who are watching with beaming smiles, maybe happy their parents are good friends just like the two of them, and you return their wide grins with a reassuring one of your own before looking back into steady grey eyes. "Well, I really appreciate your help. Thank you, Osamu."

"I'd say no thanks needed, but I've been down that road before." Another quick, heart-stopping grin graces his face, this one almost as roguish as his tone is playful. He's definitely referring to your initial correspondence when you made a firm point against his initial brush off, as if his actions in making extra lunch for your daughter to enjoy wasn't incredibly thoughtful and certainly out of his way.

"Well you certainly catch on quick. Let's just hope I can say the same." Your playful smile turns into a grimace at the thought of how difficult it might be to actually improve your skills. Maybe it's just a question of talent? Maybe you're just never going to be able to reproduce food like him.

But he glances over to catch your frown just in time and reassures, "I know what I'm doing. Soon enough, you will too. Just say you'll keep supplying me and Zumi with yer baking every once in a while when ya don't need us anymore."

You know he's probably joking with the last part but you hadn't planned on stopping. You love to share the goodies you bake with the people in your and Reina's life, it makes the two of you pretty happy so you're sure Izumi and Osamu will be able continue enjoying your baked goods to their heart's content.

"Izumi will definitely get her share of sweets and snacks every day." You send a smile her way when she hears you and bounces excitedly in her seat but then you force yourself to drop it and face Osamu with a challenging look instead, "But you... well, I guess we'll have to wait and if you're as good as you say and maybe then you can get some too."

He places a closed hand to his chest as if he's been struck, the girls laughing at his overdramatic reaction, but his widening smile gives him away. You look at each other for a suspended moment, with shared amusement but also the teasing heat of something else reflected in his achromatic eyes, which makes you certain he picked up on the unintended double entendre in your words.

"Sounds like a promise." Then with an arched eyebrow at the empty plates and cups in front of everyone, Samu asks, "So shall we get started?"

You agree, helping him clean up the table and he takes the opportunity to help you and Reina familiarize yourselves with the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon is spent in an equally easy cadence as he does indeed walk you through the steps of making his recipes, flavours included.

He starts with the simplest option, yaki onigiri, which is just fried rice shaped in a triangle or oval, and then demonstrates how to make and add a few of your and Reina's favourite fillings in to change and enhance the flavour. The girls enjoy making their own mini rice balls alongside the two of you and the time flies until you're all back at the table and having the onigiri you've just made for lunch.

You can't deny there's an improvement already but your little rice balls are still nowhere near the level of skill and flavour of Osamu's, even though he and the girls all assure you that you've done a great job. You accept their compliments with a smile and the determination to keep at it on your own time until you improve even further because Reina deserves better than even this.

By the time you finish eating, the girls are unsurprisingly tired out and choose to stay at the table to watch a Disney movie with Izumi's iPad. You can't help but smile in amusement while watching Osamu grab the thing from behind the bar, tapping away on the clunky looking device which is perfect for Izumi with a thick, pink rubber cover protecting it from grade-schooler level damage.

After the movie's been set up for the two worn out little munchkins, you and Osamu head back into the kitchen for him to show you how to make the gyoza and the next hour slips away with more teasing jokes, increasingly heated looks, and slightly bolder touches.

You can close your eyes and now know the feel of Osamu's hands on yours, demonstrating how to properly fold and pleat the wrappers. You can still feel the heat of his chest brush your back from when he leaned around you to pick up an empty bowl to place in the sink, and you're pondering on what feels like a heated brand on your hip where he lightly curved one hand to shift you over.

You can't deny your attraction to the man, a slow fall that you should have seen coming from the excitement of receiving his words every day until you were eagerly expecting the notes, to this first meeting where he's everything you expected from reading between his lines and even more.

Since the girls are pretty much full, you and Osamu clean off the new batch of gyoza between the both of you - him more than you, which you tease him about again. All the while, you're panicking about this new realization of your feelings, given that you're seriously crushing on a man who might only mean to help as a newfound friend and maybe you're the one reading too much into his interactions.

It's not until you've helped him clean up, collected the girls, and are watching him lock up the shop that you get some semblance of an answer.

"Thank you again Osamu. This was not only very instructive but Reina and I had a great time today."

He's holding Izumi's small hand in his, similar to Reina's in yours, and his other hand stretches up to rub at the back of his head, his arm bent at the elbow. When he speaks, it's not a direct response to your gratitude but a question instead, sounding somewhat unsure himself for the first time today, "How about next time we have a date that's more fun than instructive?"

Your jaw almost drops in surprise but you quickly collect yourself because he's still looking a little worried, maybe because he thinks he's overstepping by calling this a date or maybe because he's not sure you'll want another one even if you do accept that.

Your smile is quick to light up your face and, with a light squeeze from Reina's hand to yours accompanied by her and Izumi's giggles, you happily reply, "Just let me know when and where, and it's a date."

He grins again, the third time today your heart stops at what you're sure is usually a rarer sight since bodies aren't always dropping to the ground around him (that you've heard of). "I think I might already have something in mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but let me look into it and get back to ya."

"Sounds like a promise."

With your final reply, a borrowed echo of his words to serve as a temporary goodbye, you and Reina split away from Izumi and Osamu. Heading for your car with once last look behind you, you're pleasantly unsurprised to find a flash of gunmetal grey also glancing back your way. Later that night, finished with your and Reina's joint skincare routine and having tucked her into bed, you find the expected message waiting for you.

A/N: Okay wow I had SO much fun with this one! I hope you all do too <3 It's not triple edited per usual so please do let me know if you catch any errors or issues. No promises but probably dropping Atsumu’s First Meeting next ;)

Taglist: @yatoatyourservice, @crayonwriting

© 2021 fayeimara. All rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.

[notmrskennedy]

Noticed

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N - Howdy! Here’s another little something from my drafts. It’s a draft and a half again so be gentle with it. Also, I’m touch averse and I would be so happy to find someone I wasn’t upset with touching. But c’est la vie! I hope y’all enjoy!

Summary - The touch averse agent starts getting touchy....

W/C - 2.5k

Warnings - none I think, but lmk if there is something

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

If Morgan was being honest with himself, he thought you were dying. Or maybe ill. Or so feverish you’d abandoned every single principle you had. Because he’d been there that first day of yours, waltzing up from the coffee machine to see you nervously trailing behind Hotch. It was painful to watch, he remembers, so terribly nervous you’d envy the kid on one of his bad days.

He had smiled at you and stirred his coffee and remained optimistic that someone so obviously terrified would be a decent field agent. (You’d been decent and then some, especially in an interrogation room). There’d been one non-committal wave—distinctly reminiscent of a certain genius—and the first full sentence of, “I’m sorry, but I just don’t do the touching thing. Handshakes included.”

Every little touch plagues you. You’re six inches away at all times, lest someone accidentally bump into you or get the wrong idea that you might be willing to brush shoulders. There’s no friendly pats. No high fives. Certainly no hugs. Garcia is furious in her attempt to loosen you up—to no avail—but Morgan knows better than to push. Something makes you hate skin to skin contact and he’s not looking to share trauma stories with you. Not yet.

So this, Morgan thinks as he wanders into the bullpen while stirring his coffee, is a sign that you’ve lost your mind.

He watches as you carefully extend one palm to one Dr. Spencer Reid. Perched on the edge of his desk, you’re a regular fixture, just another cute figurine to add to the collection. It’s the end to some wild discussion he could hear in the kitchenette, full of flailing limbs and butchered sentences. Everyone always thought it was cute, if you stripped away how irritating it could be.

This is the point where you two are caught up in whatever moment you’re having, so much so that you extend an upturned palm between the two of you. Reid threads his hands through his hair, stunned at your peace offering. Or maybe an offering of something more than friendship. Morgan assumes its something more; not only because you have the softest grin he’s ever seen, but because your fingers are practically begging the kid to hold your hand.

Reid’s careful in how he asks his question—Morgan doesn’t know what it is, but he can just tell. The wide eyes. The scared contemplation. The are you sure parting the kid’s lips.

Grinning and blushing, you just wiggle your fingers. Murmur something that Morgan isn’t allowed to hear. Something only for Spencer. There’s surprise before he grips onto your hand, wriggling all ten combined fingers together. You giggle as you spin him around in his desk chair and get tangled up.

Dropped jaw and grinning, Morgan can’t believe you, so touch averse you, are willing engaging in such risky behaviour. There’s a weird few moments when he wants to remind both of you to wear protection in such endeavours.

And as he’s wondering if hands need condoms, the two of you let go and move on like nothing’s happened. You go back to punctuating your points with your flailing hands. Spencer goes back to distracting from his blush with paperwork.

Morgan goes to get more coffee, trying to stop imaging that you two were his kids, growing up without his consent. And maybe also the hand condoms.

#

It’s shortly after JJ’s wedding—about midnight as the cleaning crew are picking up the straggling drunks—both Hotch and Rossi notice. They’re leaned up against the bar, each smoking a cigar, watching a slightly tipsy you teach an awkwardly sober Spencer Reid how to swing dance.

It’s no secret that you and Reid get on like a house on fire, two nerds that couldn’t shut up about whatever weird ass shit was on your brains. Rossi never made much move to care. Hotch was too stressed to think about what the pair of you did off company time. Everyone, them included, imagined that what time you did spend together was three feet apart. In museums. Wherever. No one questioned what kind of weird nerd shit you did, especially stuff that they couldn’t really be bothered to care about.

Now, they’re forced to carefully consider the implications of how touchy you’re getting. With Reid.

He’s even more gangly and uncoordinated than normal, as Hotch and Rossi watch on, getting thrown around like a rag doll. It’s kind of adorable, Rossi thinks and shares a well meaning look with Hotch. The two of you would be cute and he’s hoping that you do get together. Rossi always knows about these things, even if Hotch is positive that you two are just friends. And as two professional gentlemen do, they made a bet.

Twenty bucks.

Your laugh—one that no one gets tired of hearing—echoes around Rossi’s whole yard, even into his house. Reid’s voice is about two octaves too high as you spin him around on his wobbly feet. You go from three feet apart to chest to chest and back again. Rossi remembers high school dances vaguely and Hotch absently thinks about Hayley’s old infatuation with Grease.

Rossi takes another long drag from his cigar, grateful for the indisputable proof that you two are shacking up. There is no way that two people so touch averse could be touching this much without prior exposure. The yard is a ruckus of both of your laughters, year after year of awkwardness falling off you both in sheets. They’re no denying you two shut in nerds are finally having some fun.

It’s warming both Hotch and Rossi’s hearts.

And their bet.

#

Penelope notices next. Who knew that such a simple interaction could leave her speechless? Stammering and stuttering over not even a full minute of insanity.

She didn’t know how she’d gotten sick, or what she’d come down with, but the only thing that was keeping her in her work chair was you. And the endless buckets of soup that you kept pouring down her throat. Without a case—thank god—for the last couple days, all that you’ve done is sit in the bat cave, keeping her and her soup warm.

It’s as you are finishing some corny ass joke that she thinks how sweet you are. How loving. Penelope’s love language has always been touch—she’s given too many hugs to count—but it’s taken her a minute to figure out yours. And as she stares into the chicken soup in her hands, she realises that it’s everything you do for her. Your love is literally palpable.

It’s in the bright keychains you bring back. Or the crazy pens. Or the way you always drive her home after drinking.

As she’s opening her mouth to tell you, tell you just how much she appreciates everything, when Reid pops his head in, whole body following. He’s got too much of a grin this early. But when he’s far enough into the room, he spreads his fingers out over your shoulder and squeezes. Says something about a case and you follow behind him with a wave of your hand at Penelope. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like Penelope hasn’t been the one furiously trying to break you out of your shell. The predetermined first to get a hug in the office.

You’re still up and still waving and by the time she’s got her wits about her, she’s asking, “You let Reid touch you?”

The empty room and the closing door don’t answer.

#

JJ is nearly the last to find out. Well, your little touching relationship with Spencer has been the only topic of gossip between anyone for the last six weeks. They can’t believe they hadn’t picked up on the little bits of affection passed between the two of you.

Hand touches. Shoulder squeezes. Quick brushes. The mystical hug Morgan claims he once saw.

For the rest of the world, you and Spencer were nothing but friendly. Maybe even best friendly. To the team of highly trained profilers who had been friends with the pair of you for a combined 15 years, this was marriage material. This was you and Spencer screaming the pair of you had eloped.

You two crazy kids had to be together, but the team was left to sussing it out for themselves. Neither of you two would ever say anything, never give anything up. But surely, the three of them—using Penelope would be cheating of course—could figure out when you two had started up. Because you had to have. There was no way all of this was just friendly.

And it isn’t. That much is clear when JJ gets a phone call from you while she’s looking a crime scene over for what feels like the gazillionth time. Some un-sub with the usual cocktail of daddy issues, anger issues, and a healthy dose of narcissism.

It’s rare you call anyone without good reason. You aren’t the type to just chat—everyone has speculated you got enough of that from Spencer. And once JJ says hello, you start bawling.

You’re sobbing and JJ has no idea what to do.

“Y/n, y/n,” she tries, hoping you’ll calm down enough to breathe properly. “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s—it’s Spencer,” you hiccup. JJ can hear you sniffling into your sleeves. Can hear the blinkers go as you change lanes. “He’s not answering—not answering his phone. And he said he’d—that he’d call, but he hasn’t. And JJ something’s wrong.”

By the way your breath hitches and your sobs crackle into the phone, JJ knows exactly how bad it has to be. Spencer, however, is supposed to be following up a lead with Emily. Some paint huffer in his mom’s garage—nothing more than a routine witness report. She almost can’t believe something would go wrong.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“JJ,” you sniffle before the flood gates open again, “I can just feel it. Something’s wrong.”

JJ’s mind scrambles. As much as you played it off, you had a sixth sense. Every time, every countable time, someone got hurt, you knew before it happened. You had a gut for these things and JJ didn’t want to think about how bad this was going to be. How bloody. So she scrambles for her car and doesn’t wait for the other detectives to figure it out.

JJ’s halfway to the witness’s house when you make it there yourself. You’re still on the phone, doing a horrible attempt at trying to keep each other calm. You’ve traded the sobs for hiccups, thankfully. JJ can hear you climbing the porch stairs. She’s taking corners at 65 miles an hour.

Nothing seems fast enough when JJ hears the phone clatter to the floor and the shout of “oh my god, Spencer!”

Nothing is fast enough when you’re sobbing out, “You can’t die on me like this.”

Nothing is fast enough when JJ quietly but distinctly hears, “I love you too much for you to fucking die, Spencer Reid.”

#

Spencer Reid always thinks he’s the last to find out. He’s blunt and oblivious and thinks too much to just see what’s in front of his face. He was so sure they had all seen how in love he was, just how desperately he was clinging to the hope they wouldn’t notice. If they didn’t notice, you wouldn’t. Not while wearing the same sort of blinders he wore.

But once everything had come out? He was positive everyone else had known. That he’d come into work one morning and there would be a cake engraved with the words, “Congrats on Shacking Up!”

It never happened. No cake. No lights. No surprises. No one seemed to know or notice or anything. Spencer and you went on like nothing had changed—it really hadn’t anyway. He liked to laugh when you told him the two of you had been practically dating since the first time he’d offered to take you to a Korean film festival.

Two years later and he’s become very aware of you. And also the ache. All of the very dull and consistent ache in his body. Another scar to add to the collection, he bitterly thinks, out of anaesthesia enough to know that he’s in a hospital. That he’s been hurt. That someone’s holding his hand.

It’s calloused and soft and just perfectly latched onto his. A hand he’d waited to hold for too long. One that he’d be holding for the rest of his life.

Attached to the hand is you, sleeping haphazardly between his bed and a plastic chair. Your fingers are tangled in his, head rested on the crook of your arm and the bed. There’s too much of you curled up in a chair. It’s one of his favourite bits about you, just how dedicated you could be. How you were always there when he woke up and always would be.

He smiles and chuckles despite the pain in his ribs. You wake with a start, one startled gasp followed by a shuddery exhale as you realise again where you are. That nothing’s changed. That everything’s changed.

Through lidded eyes, he watches your eyes light up, matching you grin for grin. He watches the anger flash across your face for not even a second, and he knows exactly how bad you want to murder him for scaring you so bad.

Instead, you press frantic kisses to the back of his knuckles, message fully received. You missed him. You’d been terrified. You’d cried so hard, he can still feel the salt on your lips.

“Spencer,” you breathe, giving his hand one more kiss for good measure and pressing his knuckles to your cheek. “God, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I’m alive, y/n, I promise,” he whispers back. Hoarse and adorably okay. It’s one thing to expect to get shot going after un-subs. It’s another to get attacked by a PCP addled grandmother.

He wiggles a finger against your cheek. Even though he can’t see your red rimmed eyes or the dark tear tracts on your cheeks, he can feel the tear that pools on his finger. But before he can reassure you one more time, you shush him and tell him to get some sleep and that you’ll both worry about this later. Maybe over jell-o.

He grins.

#

The team, visiting the next morning, doesn’t have the heart to wake up either of you. Reid looks happy for the first time in—years—with you carefully curled into his side. Sure, there’s a scratchy hospital gown and some pesky lines overriding everything, but it’s cute. No denying that. Thank god you two knuckleheads are finally being open about it. Even if you’re sleeping.

Emily smiles to herself as she readjusts her sling. Morgan and JJ are trading exclamations of shock, while Hotch passes Rossi twenty dollars. You readjust and Reid’s arm moves to rest across your cheek. JJ isn’t subtle when she takes a photo, sniggering.

Emily is even less subtle when she snorts. “I guess I can finally let the cat out of the bag.”

Everyone perks up; she swears she sees Reid open an eye.

“Nearly six months ago, y/n drunkenly confessed to dating Reid. She’s a real wild card on tequila, let me tell you.”

“You knew?” Morgan screeches, “and you didn’t say anything?”

Emily shrugs, winces with her busted up shoulder. “Does it matter? Didn’t we all know?”

[ailelie]

strong

It starts when Jirou overhears a conversation between Aizawa and Present Mic that could be flirty or not. This leads to a lunchtime discussion of flirty vs. friendly and whether or not the two teachers are each other's types. This then spins into a conversation about "types" in general.

Lunch ends before Todoroki is forced to answer with his own "type."

Class is a special lecture on heroism and psychology. This brings up the cycle of abuse and Todoroki's mental "no."

After dinner, the conversation lazily turns back to types and Todoroki gets called out for not giving his before. "Strong," he says. He gets teased for not giving more--hair color, sense of humor, hobbies, gender--and he's like "those aren't important." Likes? Dislikes? They push. Then he thinks and shakes his head. Strong encompasses everything important.

Eventually the conversation circles back to the instigating situation: Aizawa and Present Mic: Flirty or Friendly? The students start to scheme and this draws in Mina who pulls in the rest of the squad.

Bakugou thinks the whole thing is stupid. Todoroki is surprised to agree with him. Bakugou also points out that even if they are, maybe they don't want anyone to know. And, besides, what does it matter? (Secretly Bakugou knows he isn't straight and he'd hate to be outed by nosy idiots).

Next day, they're assigned a project. They can work in groups. Groups form and discussions, but the project conversation keeps slipping back to the schemes. Todoroki accidentally makes eye contact with Bakugou and it seems he is just as exasperated. Then Bakugou asks the teacher if they can change up groups if they want to do something else for the project. Teacher says "yes" as long as they finalize groups by the end of the period. Then he asks if he can work alone. That is a "no." So Bakugou considers his options (Yaoyorozu’s group would be focused, but he does not want to work with Iida, etc) and ends up approaching Todoroki who is looking about as miserable as his face allows at his own table. Bakugou confirms he isn't in on the scheme yet and says they should work together instead. Todoroki agrees, much to the surprise and dismay of his friends. He just wants to get the project done.

Near the end of the period, Shinsou drops into a chair by them and says they have to be less annoying than Aoyama's group. And then asks why they peeled off from the others. Bakugou says the rest are too focused on whether or not the teachers are dating. Shinsou suppresses a smirk and says "They aren't." "Like I care?" "We're not talking about that," Todoroki says, pulling them back to the project.

They hash out a study schedule for the project. They've got a month to pull it all together. Finding a quiet place to study is difficult, though.

There is training. Todoroki watches Bakugou finish up a set and comments, "You're strong." Bakugou a bit high on endorphins and beating his personal best just says "No shit."

When their study spot is basically invaded for the third time in a row, Shinsou groans and says he might have somewhere they can study instead. He just has to ask first. Bakugou frowns because that reminds him of an option, too. So, until Shinsou can figure out whether his idea will work, they decide to try working on their project at Bakugou’s house.

Todoroki sees how Bakugou and his mother interact, which reminds him of the lesson on cycles of abuse. On the train back to UA he asks, out of nowhere, “Do you think all kids end up like their parents?”

Shinsou and Bakugou immediately answer “No.” Todoroki is like, “But your mother…” / “But nothing. That’s just how we talk. What’s the point in sulking around or hiding what you mean?” The two then glance to Shinsou who’s just like, “My parents abandoned me. I hope I can clear that bar.” / Bakugou’s eyes widen a bit at that, but he only says, “Yeah. We decide what we’re like. Not them.”

And for the second time that week, Todoroki thinks strong.

A few days later, Shinsou announces he has a place they can study, but it is top secret so they can’t tell anyone. The other two agree. (Bakugou’s house isn’t bad, but it isn’t super close either. Walking distance is much better than a train). So after classes, he walks them away from UA, into the nearby neighborhood, and to an apartment.

Inside the apartment is Present Mic with his hair wet and down, frowning over some papers with a grading pen in his hand. He glances up when Shinsou flicks on the hall light. Shinsou signs something and Mic replies and gets up. “Wha--” Todoroki starts to ask quietly and Bakugou replies before Shinsou can, “He’s going to put his hearing aids back in.” “You sign?” Shinsou asks, surprised. “I’m probably going to be deaf by the time I’m 30,” Bakugou replies with forced nonchalance. “I figured I should learn before I had to.” “You should talk with Yamada.” Bakugou raises his brows. “You live with Yamada?” Meanwhile Todoroki is looking around the room and notices the photographs. “And Aizawa?” he adds. Shinsou just smirks again. “You’ll see.”

Present Mic returns with his hair pulled back. “I didn’t realize today was study day,” he says with a bright smile. “Why don’t you take your friends to the table, Hitoshi? I’ll put together a snack.” He does just that and then returns to the living room and his grading. The whole thing reminds Todoroki of Bakugou’s mother when she and Bakugou weren’t arguing. And he asks, carefully because he knows he misses social cues, “Is Mr. Yamada your father?”

This, of all things, is what flusters Shinsou. “Adopted,” he says. “He and Aizawa.” Bakugou laughs. “So that’s why they’re not dating. They’re married?” Shinsou confirms this and reinforces the secrecy.

At some point Aizawa returns to the apartment and Hizashi invites Todoroki and Bakugou to stay for dinner. Then Aizawa offers to walk them back to UA before he goes on patrol. “We won’t say anything,” Todoroki promises; he knows the value of secrets. Then, after a long minute, Bakugou adds, quietly, “But maybe you should? It’d have been nice to know sooner it wasn’t impossible.” Aizawa only nods. He walks them to the gates and tells them to get to bed.

On his way to his room, Todoroki realizes the implications of what Bakugou had said and once again marvels at his strength. Speaking out against a teacher and professional hero, revealing something about himself like that--compounded with his self-confidence and drive and physical fitness…

Todoroki sinks onto his bed and thinks oh.

Once the thought is there, he has trouble not paying attention to Bakugou. It is a Problem.

He is not subtle. Bakugou calls him out on it and Todoroki answers honestly, “I want to understand you.” Like Bakugou is some kind of complicated puzzle.

Really, the only thing keeping Todoroki from becoming the center of attention as everyone tries to understand why Bakugou is the center of his attention is that the flirty v. friendly now duelling schemes are still on. By this point the teachers know. Yamada is having fun with it. Aizawa is ignoring it.

And Todoroki and Bakugou have dinner at their apartment about twice a week. The project ends (and they ace it), but this routine persists.

It is strange watching the two teachers interact with Shinsou. Todoroki even watches Aizawa and Shinsou train one afternoon and is again resentful about his father and own training. And it builds. They go to the apartment and everyone is so nice and family like. And the teachers ask Shinsou about his grades and tease him over his crush on some girl they never outright name. And it is this fury building. He knows how to swallow back his anger, all of his emotions really, but he’s been letting his guard down more at UA and apparently he’s forgotten the trick of it when he has this much going on inside of him (because it isn’t just the fury; it is also his confusion about Bakugou, his worries about his mother, etc). And on the way back to UA, he quietly demands to know why Aizawa never hurt Shinsou during training.

Why didn’t he hurt him? Why didn’t he insult him? Why? He’s crying but doesn’t realize it. Bakugou is frozen. And then Aizawa is hugging him and suggesting that they return to the apartment and talk instead. Todoroki is calming but everything is still spinning around him. Aizawa asks if Bakugou can return to UA alone and Todoroki surprises himself by saying “No. He can come.” Because Todoroki has no idea what he feels about Bakugou, not really, but he knows the other boy is strong and right now he needs strength.

They return. Yamada sees them and murmurs that he’ll make tea. Aizawa takes Todoroki to the couch. Shinsou signs to Bakugou asking what happened. Bakugou replies that he has no idea. Icyhot (and yes, Todoroki’s name signs are that combination) just started crying. Aizawa interrupts the conversation by asking Bakugou to join Todoroki on the couch. Yamada brings in tea and Aizawa starts asking questions. Bakugou isn’t sure what he’s doing there until he feels Todoroki lean very slightly against his shoulder. A cat jumps into his lap. His voice is basically a monotone, but Bakugou realizes he’s still freaked out. And, as he listens to what he’s saying, he realizes why. Shinsou sits on the floor on Todoroki’s other side and leans his shoulder against Todoroki’s knees.

And after the talking is done and Todoroki is staring down at his cold, undrunk tea and the teachers are in the kitchen talking silently. Bakugou says, “You will never be your old man, Icyhot. I’d kick your ass if you tried.” For some reason this makes Todoroki huff a small laugh. “Good.”

The teachers return. They have extra futons. The boys will stay the night and they’ll discuss everything in the morning. They move the couch and lay out the futons. Shinsou sleeps in his own room, so it is just Bakugou and Todoroki.

Todoroki can’t sleep. Now that he’s calmed from his earlier fury and breakdown, panic is setting in. He can’t believe what he just did. Bakugou notices and, instead of insulting him, asks if he wants to learn sign language. They spend about an hour going through the alphabet and basic words until Todoroki is tired enough to sleep.

In the morning, Todoroki refuses to press any charges against his father. The teachers say that they’ll arrange it so that he spends all of his holidays with them or at the school. And say that he has to start meeting with Hound Dog once a week to talk. Todoroki does not like the mandated counseling, but accepts it as his punishment for letting his emotions get the better of him.

The signing lessons continue. Each night, about an hour after curfew, Todoroki slips down to Bakugou’s room and learns sign language. Kirishima knows the sneaking is going on and that Bakugou is giving lessons, but he’s just so proud of Bakugou making friends on his own that he helps cover for them. (He doesn’t know why Todoroki is learning sign, but he doesn’t ask).

The flirty v. friendly schemes are ongoing and yielding mixed results. The debate is annoying. It has been a month, but the growing mountain of contradictory evidence is keeping the conversation alive. Izuku points out that this is the kind of thing Todoroki would normally be all over, but he doesn’t know how to make himself care. He doesn’t care about other people’s romances. He barely cared about his own before Bakugou.

Because that is definitely still a thing. After Bakugou didn’t make fun of him for his breakdown. After he started teaching him sign language every night. He just wants the other boy close. He doesn’t understand his own impulses beyond that. It is enough that he’s even eaten lunch with the Bakusquad a few times.

Meanwhile, Bakugou is opening up to the teachers a bit more. After seeing how they handled Todoroki’s breakdown, he finally takes Shinsou’s advice and mentions his own hearing loss and how it probably wasn’t going to get better. Then one night he brings up what he’d hinted at before. It’s been weeks since then, but he talks about how annoying the schemes have gotten and asks why the teachers don’t just tell everyone and then says that he’s gay and if they’re too cowardly to let little kids know they aren’t alone and anyone can be a hero, then he’ll just do it himself.

On the walk home, Aizawa tells him he’s right and that they’ll think about it. During sign language practice that night, Todoroki tells Bakugou that his friends had asked him before what his type was and that he’d said “strong.” And then he says, “You’re the strongest person I know. I like you.”

And Bakugou is like “you can’t just say something like that” and Todoroki’s just “why not? It’s the truth.” He maybe quotes or references Bakugou’s comment from over a month ago on the train about being direct. So Bakugou asks if they can talk about it tomorrow and Todoroki just nods and asks, “Do you mind if I eat lunch with you tomorrow? I like being close to you.” And Bakugou feels like he’s about to explode of something, but he agrees and all but pushes Todoroki out the door.

Kirishima is returning to his room after staying late in Kaminari’s room playing games. He checks the time. “Lesson end early?” he asks. Todoroki says, “I told him I like him.” Kirishima’s brows raise--”That would do it.”--and he wishes Todoroki a good night. As soon as he’s out of sight, Kirishima lets himself into Bakugou’s room, knowing his friend is not going to be able to process this on his own.

The day happens and isn’t particularly notable. Todoroki has eaten with Bakugou’s friends before, after all. That night, Bakugou says, “Okay. Let’s try this.”

Kirishima, good bro that he is, provides gossip cover by publicly confessing to Yaoyorozu. He wanted someone unlikely who would definitely not return his feelings and who no one in the class would expect. (She accepts. It is a Thing. They go on a date and he explains. When she looks upset, he says that he does admire her; he just never thought of her that way because he figured he didn’t have a chance. He asks her if she wants to try this while also using their relationship to draw away as much attention as possible from Bakugou and Todoroki. Todoroki is her friend, so she agrees. And thus begins their farce covering a real growing friendship and relationship during which they both gain confidence).

Meanwhile Todoroki and Bakugou go on a date. It goes rather well. Except Todoroki still wants closer.

They start cuddling during their nightly lessons, which somehow remain mostly lesson still. Todoroki curls against Bakugou like a cat, mimicking his gestures.

Bakugou talks with Kirishima about things. Todoroki talks with Shinsou. (He’d like to talk with Midoriya, but even he realizes that wouldn’t be the best idea). On weekends, when other students head home to see family, Todoroki stays with his teachers and Shinsou instead of staying in the dorms like he used to. He sleeps on a futon in Shinsou’s room and tells him about dating Bakugou and wanting more, but not knowing what that “more” is. Shinsou suggests kissing. (And maybe privately teases Bakugou about it but Bakugou just flushes and gets agitated and blusters about being careful. And Shinsou, for the first time, calls Todoroki his little brother (actual ages do not matter) and tells Bakugou not to hurt him. Bakugou is both insulted and relieved by this. As if he would).

So the next night Todoroki asks Bakugou to kiss him. So Bakugou, blushing even though (thanks to Shinsou) he’d known this was coming, does. Soft and chaste. He pulls back and Todoroki blinks slowly and says “Again.” Bakugou smirks or grins and kisses him again. This one is not nearly as chaste.

At some point Bakugou tries to be nice and use ‘Todoroki’ instead of a nickname and Todoroki is like ‘I don’t like all of the nicknames, but I like that you don’t use my family name.’ And Bakugou gets it, but the nicknames start getting nicer. Less ‘halfie’ and more things like “strawberry swirl.”

The first time he does this in front of others, Kirishima glares at him and is trying to figure out how to draw the attention away when Yaoyorozu suddenly calls for him using his given name. The whispers shift immediately. And Kirishima, when he recovers his senses, thanks her for her quick thinking.

But such attention drawing doesn’t last forever, especially as Bakugou and Todoroki start gravitating toward each other during school hours (and the lesson portions of their evenings grow shorter and shorter). Then one day when everyone is starting to question them about it (maybe they fell asleep on the couch together in the common room?), Aizawa enters the room and sighs and says, “I hope you’re not concocting another scheme to harass my husband and me.”

Pin drop.

But at least no one cares about Bakugou and Todoroki being friends (or napping together) anymore.

But people will find out soon (and Bakugou is kinda itching to come out now that Aizawa and Present Mic have; it feels too much like backing down if he doesn’t), so Todoroki and Bakugou talk about what they are and what they want. And for Todoroki it is simple. He just wants to be close. And maybe he mentions also not wanting to be his father and that Bakugou reminds him that he doesn’t have to be, that he can be strong. And Bakugou wants to date. He wants to do all the shit people assume he wouldn’t be interested in. And he wants to do that with Todoroki. Plus, Todoroki’s belief in his strength is good. He feels calmer with him around. (So, basically, they’re each a rock for the other; two strong people making each other stronger by reminding each other of their own strengths and believing in one another).

It isn’t love. But it is something.

So, later that night, Bakugou sneaks down to the kitchen and makes a bento for Todoroki. The next day at lunch, when Todoroki is with his friends, he goes over to them and rolls his eyes at the inevitable takeout lunch. “Don’t eat that crap,” he says, pushing it aside and dropping the zaru soba bento in front of Todoroki. “Made this for you.” Todoroki smiles and thanks him. Bakugou kisses his cheek and is pulling away when Todoroki catches his wrist. “Again.” Bakugou laughs and maybe calls him “insatiable” or something and kisses him on the lips before returning to his own table.

(Kirishima and Yaoyorozu were not briefed on this. Their eyes meet in wide panic because they can’t beat that. They’re plotting across the room when Bakugou notices and waves them off.)

And Todoroki’s friends aren’t sure what just happened, so they ask. Todoroki smiles. “I figured out my type,” he tells them. “Bakugou.”

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest

Summary: Everyone in D.A.M.N simp for the power couple at least a little bit - the Vampire Prince of Dahlia and the Electro Energetic. Gavin and the Freelancer would be lying if they said they haven't been watching them... respectfully. 

TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Explicit implications courtesy of Gavin, of course] & [Oblivious narrators]

Apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors because I wrote this the whole night and only edited it once. I’ll do the editing process again tomorrow morning.

-

Life as a student in D.A.M.N is nothing like regular colleges or universities. While the environment is hectic with exams, assignments and teachers with sticks up their asses - there's also a hint of craziness thrown into the mix. You can never really predict how your day would go here in the academy, and to most of the students, it's the typical college experience you'll get everywhere. Just... taken to the next level. 

That's what you get for a magical academy, after all. 

An Air Elemental would accidentally shatter the windows in a classroom with a powerful gust of wind on a random ass Tuesday because she was laughing too hard. A Graviton Energetic would sneeze, and suddenly, the gravity in the music room would stick the instruments on the ceilings. The entire soccer team would fall flat on the grassy field, snoozing because the Serenity Daemon playing as the Goalkeeper uses too much magic to calm their anxious Sweeper during his first play with the team. 

With so many Empowered creatures of all kinds attending D.A.M.N, there's never a dull moment. You learned that the moment a loud growl came from the Debate Club on your second week as a student. A Wolf Shifter had gotten into a heated argument with a Vampire about the toppings that should and shouldn't be on a pizza. 

So yeah, typical college life with magic thrown into your daily shenanigans. 

Today, you can't help but wonder what sort of excitement would occur as the large clock above the lecture hall ticks by, counting down the second before the class is over. 

You check the clock and sigh. Just ten more minutes to go, but it feels like time is creeping forward at such a snail-like pace. Tapping your pen on the open notebook laid before you rather irritability, you just want the lecturer to stop yammering already so you can grab lunch at the food truck parked outside of campus. 

Something gently knocks against your knuckle. You tilt your head to the side and meet with Damien's unamused stare; it looks like this is the third time he caught you losing focus in class. 

"I told you to grab a snack before class started." Damien whispers, mindful to keep his voice even so the lecturer won't catch them chatting. Sadism Daemons are scary when you piss them off, and the way the lecturer's eyes sweep through the students is more than enough to have them all shut the hell up the moment he begins their topic of the day. 

"I was meeting up with Lasko and we lost track of time." You hiss back. Yesterday you made a promise to catch up with the Air Elemental before your first class started to organise the date and invitations for the next game night. Once Lasko starts talking about the things he's comfortable with, he loses his stutter and launches into an animated one-sided conversation. You didn't have the heart to stop him, not when he looks so happy and cute. 

Buying that Arkham Horror board game was the right purchase to surprise him with. 

While your mind replays the morning you spend with Lasko, Damien rolls his eyes. "Of course you did. Here." He pushes his coffee cup towards you. His fingers linger on the cup for a few seconds to make sure that the coffee remains hot enough to drink. 

You grab the cup, grateful for his consideration, and take a big swing. The coffee settles pleasantly in your stomach as warmth spreads within your body. 

You're more a tea drinker - the classic Early Grey and Gunpowder Green - but at this instance, coffee would hopefully kick your focus back into gear. 

"Thanks, Damien." You said before passing the cup back to him. You peeked at his notebook and wasn't surprised to find that it's packed with notes written in different coloured pens. "Hey, want to grab lunch together after this?" 

Damien switched the yellow pen for a red one when the lecturer mentioned something about a topic for the upcoming test. You absentmindedly wondered if it's worth your life stealing his notebook. "Sure. What are you in the mood for?" He asked. 

Finally, the lecturer dismisses the class. Chatters erupt as students pack up while some scurry over to the podium to ask a few questions.

You lean against your seat to stretch your back; your notebooks and stationery are already in your school backpack. You're just waiting for Damien now. "I'm craving for a burger and some cheesy loaded fries with a boba tea." God, just thinking about it is already enough to make your mouth watered. 

Being a health nut, Damien throws you a judgemental look at your food choice as you two made your way towards the main campus entrance. He easily follows your lead through a crowd of students, and Damien even gently pulls you closer to his side when a student whizzes by on her skateboard. 

With so many people talking and laughing around you and Damien, you can't help but hear the conversations hovering around you. 

"...had class with them yesterday? Dude, you're so lucky! Did you sit beside them!?" 

"Are you fucking crazy? No! I sat two rows behind them, but it was enough to smell their perfume. God, they're so gorgeous - I couldn't focus the entire time!" 

"I've heard a few players from the Earth Elemental team tried to invite them to their party this weekend, but they were shot down. Apply cold water on burned area." 

"Well, duh. You can't just walk up to them like that! They're one of the hottest people in this academy."

"Yeah, but those players are in one of the most well-respected sports teams in all of Dahlia, and even they can't stand a chance against them!"

Students parted ways as you and Damien approached the gates. Rows of food trucks parked across the street with tables and chairs placed about. The conversations tapered off behind you, along with the hubbub of the academy. You have a pretty good idea of whom those students were talking about. It's been a topic surrounding the academy ever since the start of the new academic year. 

Even as an introvert who prefers to hover to your few but close group of friends, you couldn't escape the latest academy gossip.

"Finally, I thought my ears would've fallen off before we could escape," Damien mutters. It's a cloudy Wednesday; dark clouds are rolling above them with an occasional burst of strong breeze cutting through. "You'd think they would just give it a rest already." 

The food truck you and Damien stop by displays a menu with a wide variety of food and drinks. From burgers to pasta and desserts ranging from ice-creams to Thai banana pancakes, your stomach begins to growl. You place your order in a hurry, whereas Damien selects a hearty sandwich stuffed with juicy and tender slices of slow-smoked beef brisket with veggies of his choice and chipotle mayo in between two crusty loaves with a bottle of water. 

You and Damien grab your meals to sit at one of the vacant tables and enjoy lunch together. Good food and good company - what more could you ask for? Well, other than Damien's tsk-ing and wiping the barbecue sauce that smudged the corner of your cheek like the mother hen he constantly denies to be. 

"Can't you eat your food properly, Freelancer? You're getting your fingers dirty too. Give me your hand." Damien demanded halfway through his sandwich. You grin impishly and offer your left hand for Damien to wipe with some tissue while the other is holding a burger. The thick sauce begins to drip. 

Soon enough, a familiar voice shouts at them from across the street. 

"Yo, Damien! Freelancer! Are you guys, like, having lunch? Can I join!?" 

You can't help but beam and wave your hand (that was still holding the burger) high up when Huxley crosses over. Damien squawked with eyes wide in horror when the barbecue sauce got all over the table. He hurried to wipe the table clean while you greeted Huxley. 

"Hi, Huxley! Are you grabbing lunch too? Take a seat, man!" 

"Thanks a bunch, dude. It's been a while since I hung out with you two." 

"We literally had a class together two days ago." 

"Two days too long, Damien. I miss you guys." 

"Aww, that's super sweet of you, Hux!"

"Oh, for the love of - just go buy something already before the next class starts." 

Huxley happily gives Damien two thumbs up before grabbing his food and drink. When he returned to their table, he brought a tray of smoothie consisting of kale, spinach, banana, orange, and vanilla blended into green mush in a plastic cup and a plate of vegan quesadillas. 

The moment Huxley sat down, you took a sip of his drink and made a face. 

"Yeah, I ask them to hold back on the honey because I like the vanilla more," Huxley explains before tucking in. "Oh! But I can ask them to add more honey if you want. That’s like, totally cool." 

You quickly shake your head and clean your palate with your sweet boba tea. "It's cool, Hux. Just wanted to try a sip. You're really into these crazy healthy smoothies." 

"They're the bomb, dude. My Mums introduced a few recipes to me when I was a kid, and I basically hooked ever since." The Earth Elemental explains after gulping down a good chunk of the green goo. 

"Yeah, well, with the calories you burned up during practice, I guess you can't go wrong with smoothies," Damien added thoughtfully. His sandwich is all gone. He props an elbow on the table and cradles his face in one open palm. "Anyway, what's up, Huxley? Anything new happened?" 

"Nah, it's been nothing but the same shit lately. Classes, assignments and practices for the upcoming Elemental & Energetic Games - normal stuff. What about you guys?" 

"More or less the same." Damien replies, soundly ignoring your "We're hitting the tournament arc!" outburst. "Planning to organise a study group for the upcoming tests. I expect the two of you will be joining, by the way." 

At Damien's words, Huxley beams brighter. Any brighter, you'd need a pair of sunglasses. "For real, dude!? You're like, the best friend ever, Damien! C'mere - lemme give you a hug!" 

You snicker when despite Damien's frantic protest, Huxley shoot up from his chair and quickly hugs the Fire Elemental tightly before he has the chance to weasel away. 

Also, you didn't miss the chance to snap a quick picture of them to show Gavin tonight. 

Unaware of your phone, Damien grumbled when Huxley finally released him, and they sat down again. The three of you continue to chat about everything and anything. Soon, the topic shifts from tests to plans for the weekend. 

Huxley snapped his fingers when you mentioned Lasko's gaming night and the tabletop game you recently bought for him so they could all play together. 

"I totally forgot about the party! A few guys in my team are having a party this Saturday, and I want to invite you guys and Lasko. Oh! Gavin too! It's going to be a blast, and on Sunday, we can play that new board game."

You and Damien exchange a glance. "Sounds fun. Actually, we've heard about the party just now. How many people are your team members inviting?" You asked, curious. 

Huxley takes a moment to ponder before shrugging. He's nearly done with this food. "It's supposed to be just with a few close friends. Nothing too crazy, you know? After the last party that ended with fireworks exploding in someone's bedroom, they want to keep it lowkey." 

"Huh. Close friends, but they tried to invite a certain Energetic," Damien interjects. "What's up with that?" 

"You heard about that too?" Huxley replied, surprise coloured his tone. "Word travel like, super-fast around campus! It happened, like, yesterday morning!" 

Damien let out an annoyed groan and ran a palm down his face. "I think it's safe to say that everyone in this fucking academy is talking about it and nothing else. God, no matter where you go, you can't escape it." 

You pat Damien's arm in a comforting manner. "They're hot and popular; people will be talking about them until we all graduate." 

"And if it isn't them, people would be talking about their boyfriend," Huxley pointed out, stirring his smoothie languidly. Huxley smiles and offers it to you when you critically stare at it for a tad too long. Against your better judgement, you try again. 

Blek! It still tastes the same! Huxley just chuckles and finishes the rest of the smoothie while you seek solace with your boba tea again. 

"Besides, it's not often you see an Energetic and Vampire couple walking around," Huxley continued. "I think they're living together too. I mean, that's what I heard." 

"Don't tell me you also have a crush on them."  

Before Huxley could say anything, you tentatively raise your hand as if you guys are in class. Now you bear Damien's annoyed glance. "I was kinda hardcore crushing on them and their boyfriend before Gavin and I officially got together. They keep to themselves and their boyfriend most of the time, but they're super nice in classes." 

The Elemental and Energetic courses often have classes that intermingle every week. However, they're primarily compulsory lessons like magical history, laws regarding coverts and taxonomy of various Empowered creatures. 

So you're practically classmates with the hottest Electro Energetic in the academy and had even sat beside them a few times during class. Unlike many of the students who simp for them at a distance. 

The power couple of D.A.M.N is certainly interesting, to say the least. 

You narrowed your eyes at Damien when he refused to let up his disappointed stare. "Don't lie to me. You simp for them too." 

Damien huffs and crosses his arms. "Both of them look good, alright. Anyone with a working pair of eyes could tell from a mile away. They're gorgeous, and the Vampire is hot - so what?" 

"They're both super strong too." Huxley unknowingly throws more wood into the fire. 

By the time their lunch ended, Damien had demanded they talk about something else, so you jump into plans for the weekend. Party on Saturday and a gaming session on Sunday. 

Typical college life.

-

When the time on your phone displays 10.30 PM in glaring bright light and you're still on campus, you know what death feels like. 

It's quiet in the cafeteria, save for a small group of students huddled together around tables scattered in various places. Their heads are hunched down as they go over textbooks and assignments. One of the students happens to be a Vampire judging from the blood bag beside his laptop. 

A red swirly straw juts out of the bag, and for a brief moment of exhaustion, you entertain the image of the student sipping the blood bag as if it was a Capri Sun. 

Just like those students, the reason why you've stayed late in the academy's cafeteria is because of assignments. You know that if you bring your homework back home with you, you won't get any of it done. It's better to stay here and slough through them instead. 

Damien would scold and drag you home if he knew. Huxley would be sad and plead for you to rest, and Lasko would put on his guidance counsellor voice and advise you that a good night's sleep would help you think better. 

The boys mean well, and you love them for it, but you know yourself better than anyone. If you don't finish these assignments tonight, you would just procrastinate until the deadline punches you right in the face. 

You sigh and rub your temple in frustration. You've made good progress so far, but there's still a few left and you want to complete them all before going home. So you resume writing down the essay about the importance of convert and the Department on your laptop, fingers deftly flying all over the keyboard. 

Nighttime at D.A.M.N is not as busy as it is in the morning. The students that are going in and out of classes are mostly Vampires and nocturnal animal Shifters. The academy's faculties are also lesser in terms of numbers compared to their morning counterpart. 

Twice you've experienced the nightlife at D.A.M.N, and tonight would be your third. You wondered if Gavin is at home already. Hopefully, you can return to the apartment before him. Better wrap this up, then. 

The steady rhythm of your fingers on the keyboard and quiet discussion from the group of students slowly lull you to sleep. Hang in there just a little more! 

The sound of a Daemon Rifting into this world startles you awake. 

"Here you are, Deviant," Gavin said, his ordinarily seductive voice laced with conceal anger. Oh shit, you're in trouble now. "I thought we talked about this." 

You have no choice but to face him. Gavin looks devastatingly as sexy as ever; his black t-shirt snugly fits his body to the point that it showcases his biceps tastefully. A pair of dark blue jeans that he just so happens knows will get your heart racing and accompanied by a pair of shiny black Doc Martens boots. A rainbow-coloured bead bracelet is on his right wrist; a gift from Caelum. 

You would've swoon at the sight of him if you weren't seconds away from face planting on your laptop. 

So instead, you greet him with a, "Whaaa... Gavin?" You rub your eyes and blink at him. "W-What are you doing here? I thought you'd be - " You break out a yawn before sighing. "At home by now." 

"Funny. I thought the same thing about you but colour me surprised when Caelum reached out to me while I was grocery shopping — saying that you aren't home even when it's close to midnight." Gavin explains and tilts his head to the spread of books you have before you. "So, want to explain why you're at the campus cafeteria right now instead of in our bed?" 

The gears in your head are scrambling to come up with an excuse that's good enough to appease Gavin. So lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear the whispers coming from the nearby students. 

"That's the main boyfriend..." 

"Holy fuck, an Incubus? Damn, they're insatiable!" 

"How often do you think they have orgies? Twice a week?" 

" - collecting them like Pokemon!" 

Oh fuck it, you can't come up with anything decent. "I'm nearly done with my assignments, Gavin." You assured the worried Incubus. "Just need to write down a few more paragraphs..." 

Gavin is undeterred. "Freelancer, we talked about this. It's not healthy that you're making a habit of staying over at campus late at night because of assignments. You're going to burn out like this." 

Well yeah, you could feel your body is already seconds away from collapsing but like hell would you admit that to your boyfriend. It's been a long day and an even longer evening. It's a good thing that tomorrow's the weekend. 

Gavin startles you once more by leaning against the table and cupping your face in his large hands, so you're forced to look straight into his eyes. He's many things, but to those he deeply trusts and loves, his eyes would always betray the worry and concern he has for you and Caelum; even if his words aren't as forthcoming at times. "My stubborn, enticing Deviant... Are you being a brat again? Not listening to your Dom like you should be?" He purrs. 

All of a sudden, your throat suddenly feels like sandpaper, and your heart skips a beat at Gavin's tone. You're very familiar with that tone - it always promises punishment and pleasure mixed together until nothing else exists except for your boyfriend. 

But the question now is, how far can you actually push him. So with Gavin still refusing to release your face, you swallow and reply as nonchalantly as you can, "Oh, I don't know about enticing, Gavin. I-I mean, I've been running around campus the whole day. Probably have some barbecue sauce stain on my jacket and - Ow!" 

You puff out your cheeks when Gavin pinched them. 

"Are you purposely trying to test me, Freelancer? You know that just means more fun for me, and you tie up and helpless on the bed, right?" Gavin is all too happy to remind you, cocking one eyebrow at your impertinence. No doubt he already has your punishment in mind when the two of you are home. 

But you're not going to budge that easily. Sensing your stubbornness, Gavin lets you go and unleashes his ultimate move with a sigh. 

"I can see the Knots on you, Freelancer, and if I can see them, Caelum can too. I'm not covering your ass when he comes over for breakfast tomorrow and starts crying." 

You gasp and immediately recoil. "Low blow Gavin!" You counter, but you know that he speaks the truth. Your heart will literally break if you're the reason that Caelum cries. 

Gavin smirks when you switch off your laptop. He helps put your things away and offers a hand to you. With a small smile, you let yourself be gently pulled up by him and sling your backpack over a shoulder. 

"Are you hungry?" Gavin asked as the two of you stepped into the large hallway, hand-in-hand. "I didn't manage to make anything when I put the groceries away, but I can whip something up real quick when we get home." 

It's a sweet gesture, and you made sure that he knows how much you appreciate it by squeezing his hand. Ever since you two started living together, Gavin is determined to feed you properly. According to him, it's only fitting since you've constantly been feeding him too. "I'm more sleepy than hungry." You reply after a yawn. "I'll just eat a big breakfast tomorrow." 

"I'll hold you to it. Also, look alive, Deviant. Hottie approaching at 12 O'clock." 

That got your attention immediately, and snapped your eyes forward. Your jaw would've dropped if it weren't for Gavin lightly nudging your side when you saw who was walking towards the two of you. 

It's them — the Electro Energetic that became the talk around campus. 

They're as breathtaking as ever, even after a whole day of classes and club activities. Not a single hair out of place and clothes unruffled. Their body language stood out to you; their gait is a little hesitant but friendly, while their eyes are kind. 

It's easy to see why so many people harbour crushes on them, and you've always been a sucker for cute faces. 

When they finally approach you, they pull out a pair of wireless white earbuds from their ears. That's when you hear intense music playing:

It's the Pumpkin Patch King 

With the corpse with the ring

And she'd fuck my best friend if I die here today...

"Um, hi. Good evening. I'm sorry for bothering you guys so late like this. Are you heading home?" They inquire tentatively. 

Gavin waits for you to take the lead. "Hey, man. Yeah, we kind of are, actually. Want us to walk you home?" You could feel how pleased Gavin is beside you. The offer just crosses your mind, and besides, it's not nice to walk alone this late at night. 

That's what you're telling yourself despite the small part in your brain whispered that walking them home would be a great step of getting to know them better. It's just a harmless crush anyway. 

Unfortunately, they decline the offer. "I'm waiting for someone, actually, but when I saw you, I wanted to talk for a bit." 

Your heart skips a beat for a second time tonight. They specifically sought you out? You? When they've never done so towards anyone before? 

"O-Oh," You embarrassingly squeak, clutching Gavin's hand tighter.

The Electro Energetic nod. They tilt their head like an indulged, curious cat and god, that simple gesture shouldn't look so hot. "I don't know if you notice me, but we share Covert Laws - "

If you notice them? If you notice them!? They have a stronger presence than the lecturers themselves! They radiate magic like thunderstorms - intimidating, powerful and commanding that you have no choice but to submit to it. 

Sitting beside them was an experience and a half! There's no way an Empowered creature could ignore them despite their quiet demeanour! 

" - and I was wondering if you would like to be partners for the final project this year? Um, I heard that you're really good in that class, and I promise to pull my weight with the research and - "

You don't know how to react. Is this really happening? One of the most popular students in the academy wanted to be your project partner? You thought this sort of situation only occurs in animes! 

"They'd love to." Gavin smoothly answers when you're too shocked to say anything. "It's always nice to make new friends after all. Especially with a walking wet dream such as yourself." Here, he purposely pauses to appraise the Electro Energetic. 

Just like his Freelancer, Gavin has heard all about this Empowered human and even basks in the delicious energy coming from the thoughts and emotions his partner has for them. As an Incubus and their boyfriend, it's hilarious that his Deviant thought he's not aware of their crush. It's cute. 

Hmm... it'll be nice if he and the Freelancer could invite the Energetic and their Vampire lover into their bed one of these days. Regardless if they've been Marked; honestly, that just made the couple as appealing as the biblical Forbidden Fruit. 

And besides, Gavin has a strong feeling that the Freelancer wouldn't oppose the idea. It'll be the perfect anniversary present for his Deviant. 

"...Was that supposed to be a compliment?" They ask warily. Oops, looks like he's coming on a little too strongly. Time to take it down a notch. 

"It's whatever you want it to be. Anyway, now that you guys are... partners, what say you get to know us better, hmm? My lover has been eager to be friends with you." Gavin explains. You whip your head at him incredulously. Is he seriously doing what you think he's doing!? "I'm Gavin, by the way. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." 

The Energetic look confused, and you can't blame them. You need to save them before Gavin proposes something as crazy as an orgy on your behalf! 

You laugh awkwardly, bringing their attention to you. "Right! Partners! I'd love to be yours - I-I mean, uh, for school stuff! Yeah! Can we exchange numbers?" 

"Smooth, Deviant." Gavin teases. Something caught his interest, not that you notice as you and the Energetic trade contact information. They compliment the cute picture you have as your Home Screen (it's a selfie shot of you and Gavin, Lasko, Damien and Huxley during the previous game night. It's a shame that Caelum couldn't appear), and in return, you ask where did they buy their sick phone cover. 

While they still feel like the human embodiment of a fierce thunderstorm, it's nice to have a casual conversation with them. They're thoughtful, kind and fun that you soon find yourself calming down a little. 

"Not to cut this riveting conversation short, but are you sure that you don't want us to walk you home? It's getting really late, and we're more than happy to have you crash at our place for the night." Gavin interjects with a seductive grin, eyes half-lidded. 

"Umm..." 

Whoa, what happened to being friendly, Gavin!? You shoot him a look; he's going to drive them away! 

"We have an extra guest room at our apartment." You hurried to explain. "So it's totally cool if your place is far away or something." 

Their hesitation melts to understanding. The last thing that you want is a misunderstanding between you two. 

"You guys are sweet, but I'll be alright. Actually, I'm about to leave the campus too. I'm just going to hang out at the cafeteria until he arrives." They said. You have a pretty good idea who 'he' is judging by their soft smile. 

Gavin, for some reason, amp up his game. With a smirk, he cajoles, "Since he hasn't shown up yet, how about you hang out with us for a bit? There's a bar not too far from here - "

You flinched, and Gavin automatically shuts up and pulls you close to his side when a Vampire appears behind the Electro Energetic. It was so sudden that his appearance was a blur at first. 

"Vincent? You're done with class already?" They blink. An arm snaked around their waist as the Vampire pulled his Mate close to his chest. The Energetic had to crane their head up slightly to look at him. 

He's as tall as Gavin. Dressed in a casual black coat that screams money with a dark grey shirt accompanied by a pair of black jeans and boots. His silver studs, rings and watch glimmer underneath the fluorescent lights. Everything about this man reminds you of a panther sizing up its prey. 

You gulped. He's currently glaring daggers at you and your boyfriend. You're itching to stutter out a, "This isn't what it looks like!" for some reason. 

Now, ever since you learned about the existence of magic and Empowered creatures, you did your best to be open-minded. Even that whole ordeal with Vega didn't stop you from reaching out to the various Daemons attending the academy. 

However, you haven't managed to befriend a Vampire due to their night classes, and even the few times you stay back like today, most of them are running back and forth through the hallways to catch their next lesson. 

So to be the target of a pissed off Vampire made you uncomfortable. You want to fidget, but Gavin's arm secured around you ease some of that tension. 

"Mm-hmm. I'm on break right now, so I can drive you back home. You done with that talk with your guidance counsellor?" The Vampire inquired, eyes still glued at you and Gavin. 

"All done. We lost track of time when we discussed next semester's timetable for the Energetic course and potential careers once we graduate." His lover explains, unaware of the displeasure rolling off like waves from their boyfriend. "I think I need some time to go over them again. It's a bit much to take in."

The Vampire hums in acknowledgement. "We can go through them together this weekend if you like, Lovely. Maybe we can ask Will for help since he's coming over on Saturday for dinner too." 

Oh, you suppose that's why they reject the Earth Elemental players' invitation to the party. 

But the Vampire wasn't done. He assesses you and Gavin with narrowed eyes as if you were stains on the bottom of his boots. What the hell? "By the way, are these guys bothering you?" 

A chill sweeps through you, sending goosebumps crawling on your skin at the sudden shift of tone. He was warm and affectionate when speaking to his lover, but now? It's colder than ice.

Gavin, whose smirk turns into a shit-eating grin, is utterly unfazed at the Vampire's hostility. In fact, you would go as far as to say that he's relishing it. "We're just keeping your gorgeous Mate company while they're waiting for you. I was just about to propose that we move the conversation to a bar so we could all get to know one another a lot more... intimately." 

Oh god, they're so fucked. You have no idea why your boyfriend is trying to start shit up, but you're too tired to deal with this drama. So again, you try to salvage the situation. 

"Just as friends!" You quickly butt in. "We decide to be partners for an assignment in Covert Laws, so hanging out at a bar sounds like a good idea as friends." You're sprouting bullshits at this point, but you hope it's enough to save both of your asses. You also made sure to emphasise the word 'friends'. 

The Vampire quickly looks at the Energetic for confirmation, and they readily nod. His aggressive body posture relaxes somewhat, but he's still wary of you and Gavin. 

Maybe this is the best time to introduce yourself to him. 

"Uh, it's a little silly that we didn't introduce ourselves right away, but I'm a Freelancer." You mutter out rather awkwardly. Should you offer a hand to him? 

Gavin saves you from doing so. "And I’m their boyfriend, Gavin. An Incubus." 

"...Vincent Solaire." The Vampire - Vincent - reluctantly replies. 

Wait - his surname sounds familiar, though. You think you heard it in one of the classes about the supernatural factions in Dahlia... It's on the tip of your tongue... 

"Oh, we've heard all about you, Your Highness." Gavin slyly quips. "You and your lover are quite the celebrities around here." 

Holy shit. Solaire! The most powerful Vampire clan in the city! You remember now; the King has two progeny - A Vampire Princess & Prince. You didn't expect the Energetic boyfriend to be the Prince himself! What a twist! 

"Celebrities?" The Energetic - Lovely, as Vincent calls them - pipes up in confusion. The way their eyebrows furrow is adorable, but you wisely keep that to yourself. 

They really are a mesmerising couple. You detect the perfume that lingers around Lovely is sweet and misty. It's calming yet so light that it dances just out of your reach; like a coy lover. Slowly driving you mad with desire. Vincent's cologne reminds you of husk and cedar. Subtle, but once you catch a whiff of it, it'll stay within your mind for hours on end. Wondering if that particular scent will ever return - like the perfect one night stand. 

It says a lot about the couple. 

"We haven't done anything wrong." Vincent Solaire stated, voice as hard as steel. "I don't know why you're trying to rile us up, Incubus, but I don't appreciate you and your lover hitting on my Mate when I made it clear that I Mark them." 

Ooooh, he's jealous! Wait - did you come across as flirty to him!? Did Gavin purposely flirt with Lovely to make Vincent jealous? You've completely lost the plot. 

"Consider it as an act of public service," Gavin answers, easily brushing off the Vampire Prince's irritability. "Besides, how can I not when you both are half of the student body's recent fantasies." 

Lovely 'eeped' when Vincent bare his fangs at your boyfriend. "Back off, Gavin. Lovely is mine. Not yours or the Freelancer's." 

Whoa, whoa! A severe misunderstanding is boiling here! No one is stealing Lovely away from him! 

Fortunately, Lovely has gotten tired of the conversation. With a put-out sigh, they pat the arm around their waist to capture Vincent's attention. It worked. "No one is stealing the other's partner, Vince. It's all good; chill. You know you're the only one for me, right?" Here, they peck his cheek. "When did you get so possessive?" 

Vincent grumbled but didn't explain himself, so Lovely just shook their head. 

"Anyway, we better get going before Vincent's next class starts. It was nice meeting you two. I'll text you soon so we can plan on how to tackle that project." 

You give a shaky smile and a thumbs up. "Looking forward to it." 

Immediately after you said that, Vincent bares his fangs to you next. Oh my god, this guy needs to fucking relax! 

"We're going! We're going! C'mon, Vincent. You're driving me home. Now." 

And with that, you watch as Lovely drags the Vampire Prince to the parking lot. It's a strange yet comical sight. You only sigh in relief when they're out of your view. 

"I thought I saw my life flashing before my eyes!" You complain. Those were the single most stressful moments that you’ve encountered— second to Vega invading your home. 

"I think that went well, Deviant." Gavin objected, very pleased with himself. "He's pissed now, but he and his Mate will be thanking us soon." 

So you were right; Gavin purposely flirted with Lovely just to rile Vincent up, and for what? Possessive, sexy time later tonight? Oh, whatever. That's enough drama for one night; you seriously just need to pass out now. 

And with that, the two of you head home without realising your interactions with the power couple of D.A.M.N didn't go by unnoticed by the several students who were hovering close. 

-

"Are you hurting anywhere, Lovely?" 

"I'm alright, Vincent. The hickeys and bruises are healing nicely; my body still feels a bit sore but not enough to cripple me, so stop hovering near the door." 

Vincent guilty did as he’s told and takes a seat on the corner of the bed. He watches you apply some light makeup on your face and neck in front of the vanity table as you're getting ready to head out to the academy. Your outfit compliments your look and, most importantly, hides any patches of skin except for your hands. 

Vincent really went all out last weekend after his night classes ended. It's obvious that Gavin unleashed something within your lover, and you will freely admit that an unrestrained Vincent makes for a very fun and wild night. 

The moment Will came over and realised that Vincent re-Mark you an hour before he arrives, he graciously decided to take a rain check and promise to have dinner with the two of you some other time. 

Once Vincent gets it out of his system, he teased before leaving you gobsmacked and Vincent a blushing mess. 

"You know, your guidance counsellor wouldn't mind if you're absent from classes today, Lovely. Probably." Vincent tries; a part of him doesn't want his Lovely to attend their lessons while their body is still healing. Then again, that part also whispers that the Incubus and his lover would be around them without his supervision. 

Nope. No. Bad Vincent. Lovely is more than capable of taking care of themselves. They don't need him acting like a jealous, clingy boyfriend. 

However, something that the Incubus bothered him. 

"You and your lover are quite the celebrities around here." 

What did he mean by that? He and Lovely had been playing good students the entire time they've been on campus! Their assignments are always delivered on time, grades nothing but above average, and they keep to themselves to avoid any typical college dramas.  

Is it because of his status? For some reason, Vincent feels like it's more complicated than that. What a headache. 

"Maybe, but I did promise the Freelancer that I’ll catch up with them to discuss our project," You commented and spritz your favourite perfume on your wrists and neck. You love this scent, despite it being cheap and common. "Vincent, honey, you're making that face again." 

"It's my face, Lovely." 

"Yeah, well, you have your happy-snappy-neck face again, Vincent." You dryly point out before sitting beside the Vampire. "Did that Incubus really rub you the wrong way?" Your voice is gentle. You didn't get any bad vibes coming from Gavin and the Freelancer - just genuine, harmless, friendly flirting. In a way, you welcome it as their attempts helped you drive your anxiety away. 

God, walking up to them was hard enough. You always feel a little intimidated whenever you're around charismatic people. 

"I don't know... I thought they were making you nervous, and the words that kept coming out of that Daemon's mouth? He knew what he was doing; I just can't figure out what or why." Vincent admits, frustrated. 

Seeing him look so frustrated saddens you, so you propose a suggestion. "How about this, I'll ask the Freelancer what that whole thing on Friday was all about, and if it's anything gross, I'll give you a call so you can deal with them. How's that?" 

It assured Vincent. Seeing his tiny smile urge you to peppered his face with kisses until he laughs. With your boyfriend now properly appeased, you leave the apartment for D.A.M.N. 

It's a bright Monday morning. You hope that this week will be a little kinder to you than the previous one. However, the moment you arrived on campus, everyone was glancing at you curiously. When you made eye contact with the stares, the students couldn't walk away fast enough. 

Weird. 

Your first class of the day is on the second floor, so you didn't waste any time heading for the stairs. Students mingle around as they go about their day; some grab breakfast at the convenient store, while others chat with their friends at the cafeteria and lounge room. A Water Elemental is performing simple tricks at the marble fountain to an adoring crowd.

Just as you rounded a corner, the crowd parted ways with a subtlety of a serial killer in slasher movies, which is to say, absolutely none whatsoever to reveal your new friend. The Freelancer is flanked by their boyfriend, Gavin, on the left and on their right, the famous player in the Earth Elemental team Huxley and one of the academy's guidance counsellors, Lasko. 

You couldn't help but notice that everyone is giving them a wide berth. Not that it matters when Gavin's body is positioned to shield the Freelancer from bumping into any of the passing students. Huxley passes a bottle of orange juice to them while Lasko is staring at something behind the Freelancer. He mutters something under his breath.  

A loud voice suddenly bounces off the walls. "What happened to my water tumbler, Freelancer!?" 

You and every other student in the area watch as the Freelancer turns around and loudly replies, "Don't worry! I already got you a new tumbler, Damien! It looks exactly like your old one. Except it's pastel pink with kittens on it, and the shape looks like a really fat snowman with bunny ears for straws." To make a point, the Freelancer rummage inside of their backpack and proudly present the weirdest looking water tumbler you had ever seen in your life to their boys. 

"AAAAAHHHHH!" 

"You know you could at least see it before you judge it, Damien." The Freelancer grumbled and shoved the tumbler back. Huxley gently pats their shoulder in a comforting manner. Lasko laughs nervously while Gavin continues to protect his lover silently, all the while looking at ease. 

Everyone knows of the Freelancer and their boyfriends. They're the most popular group in D.A.M.N for a reason. Friendly, yet no one can be a part of their group due to the tight bond they have with one another.

The Freelancer is quickly shaping up to be a remarkable magical individual in their own right, marching to the beat of their own drums rather than the world's. Unwaveringly kind and friendly, constantly making sure the people around them are comfortable and safe. 

In terms of academic performance, Damien remains unchallenged among his peers. Everyone could tell that he would undoubtedly change their world for the better the moment he graduates, especially in governing. He's also known for his fiery temper, yet that fire becomes a hearth when it comes to the Freelancer. More than once, students have stumbled upon them huddled close in the library, softly discussing the future they wanted. 

If Damien is known for his academic excellence, then Huxley is famous for his prowess in the field. His mastery over his element made the younger Earth Elementals look up to him as their role model while his teammates view him as their ace. Charming, cheerful yet a bit absentminded at times, and even then, you can't help but be fond of him. You can find the Freelancer cheering him from the bleachers during his matches, and once Huxley won the game, he would immediately launch himself at them. Sweats, dirt and grass all over him, but the Freelancer would laugh as he hoisted them up in his embrace. 

Lasko is an odd addition to their group, but once he drops his stuttering, he shows just how capable he is as one of the academy's guidance counsellors. Acknowledged as one of the most powerful Air Elemental of his generation, Lasko is well on track to graduate D.A.M.N with honours, and while the future might be uncertain, students like to speculate that he will remain with the Freelancer and the others no matter what. Sometimes you can even catch a glimpse of them hanging out at one of the local cafes and see how bright and alive Lasko can be when around the Freelancer. 

Gavin came with a mystery trailing his saunter. See, no one knew how exactly he and the Freelancer first met. Speculations range from a cute, accidental meet up in a random convenience store to the Incubus boldly inviting them into a threesome when the Freelancer stumbled upon him mid-feeding. Lovely wonders if there's a betting pool going around the academy. The seniors would recognise Gavin, for he was their peer before he suddenly dropped out and vanished for a while. But judging by his frequent presence around the Freelancer, some say that he's looking forward to retaking his previous course. But whatever the reason may be, no one can deny the chemistry he has with the Freelancer. How fiercely protective he is of them when the Freelancer isn't looking. 

They're certainly an intriguing group, that's for sure. 

And when Gavin notices you were watching them, he winks at you. No doubt as an Incubus, he could scent what you and Vincent had been up to the entire weekend. 

That's what you get for a magical academy, after all. 

-

PS: Everyone in D.A.M.N (including Lovely & Vincent) hilariously assumes that the Freelancer is in a poly relationship with Gavin, Damien, Lasko & Huxley when in reality, they're just with Gavin. BBBBuuuttt... Gavin could detect the romantic/lustful feelings the other bois harbour for the Freelancer but kept it to himself for now. He's just waiting for the Freelancer to feel the same way so he could give them all The Talk™ and then go buy a bigger bed!

Anyway, I seriously had a lot of fun writing for this oneshot! It's been a while since I had that writing fever again so I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[thewildwaffle]

Allergies

Requested by mytasteinmusic on Ao3

The humans were throwing food. Why? Well, Kahpi sighed, it was anyone’s guess really. For whatever reason, they were making some sort of game out of it. One human would grab a small piece of food and toss it high up into the air and another human would attempt to catch it in their mouths and eat it. For the cleaning team’s sake, she was glad all the foods that were being thrown seemed to be fairly self-contained and held together well even after being thrown. The foods in question started out as colorful candies the humans had brought along with them from Earth. They had been searched and scanned for possible allergens and dangers they could pose to other races that would be on the ship. Kahpi, as head Food Safety Inspector, had overseen the process herself. Some human food could, after all, cause anything from slight to severe damage and trauma to digestive and respiratory tracts of different species that also worked on the ship. This meant that foods that were only safe for human consumption had to be stored and prepared separately from other food supplies, or if they were exceptionally dangerous, banned altogether. The colorful candies being thrown around now, for instance, were safe to be on the ship, but under the multi-colored exteriors was a concoction that contained theobromine and caffeine. The humans called it chocolate. They loved the stuff and used it in a wide array of foods. It was safe for them in modest amounts, and as long as they kept it to themselves, they were allowed to have it. Once the colorful candies were all consumed, and dropped pieces taken care of, the humans moved on to throwing other foods. Pretty much whatever they had in their meal: diced fruit, ripped bits of bread crusts, chunks of vegetables, etc.

Kahpi kept her eyes on their antics as she also made her rounds in the ship’s cafeteria. As boisterous as they could be, their games were no reason for her to fall behind in her own duties. It was, as the saying goes, not her spilled bucket of eesaling to guard. If they wanted to goof off on their own time, that wasn’t her business. As long as it didn’t cause harm to anyone else. Usually by sharing their food with other races without clearance or supervision, they were fine. In any case, it seemed that their food throwing gag was starting to die down. They returned to eating their meals normally, laughing and joking around loudly with each other as was the norm. Kahpi was thankful that few of the crewmembers that regularly spent their time with the humans were not of races that could boast similar skill of great aim and power while throwing. That would help deter others to pick up the food-throwing in the future. Just as Kahpi was wrapping up and about to leave, she overheard a disturbance from the humans. They all started speaking or shouting at once. “Dude! What the- what’s happening to your face?” “Oh my gosh!“ "What’s going on? I think I’m going to throw up!” “Carlton, you’re breaking out!” Kahpi looked over to the humans were now starting to rise from their seats, onsets of panic starting to creep into their body language. “Are you allergic to something?” “I don’t think so?” “What is it? What have you eaten?” “I don’t know, I’ve never had allergies before!” “Oh frewan, some of the m&ms had peanuts! Are you allergic to nuts?” “I don’t know! I used to eat peanut butter all the time as a kid!” “Could it be the nuts?” “I don’t know, I don’t know what else it could have been!” “Chris, you have allergies, right? What do we do?!” Alarmed by the humans’ reaction, Kahpi, as well as several others that were in the cafeteria, approached cautiously to see if any aid could be given. Whatever could spook a group of humans so badly must be dealt with quickly and conclusively. As she approached, one of the humans, Chris, ran off and disappeared down a nearby corridor. She paused. Was he fleeing? And if so, what from? Should she flee as well? The other humans weren’t running, at least not yet. Instead, they were gathering around Human Carlton, who, now that Kahpi had gotten closer and could see more clearly, did not look like he was well. His skin, usually the color of a richly tanned deygbah hide, looked splotchy and red. His eyes were unusually watery and swollen. In fact, everything about him was starting to look just a little bit swollen in parts. Kahpi’s second stomach dropped. Carlton was going to die! “Come on guys, back up a bit, give him some room!” Human Macy, the newest human to the crew, had everyone shuffle back so Carlton could lie down. Kahpi was just about to bolt down one of the corridors nearby that she knew would lead her to the med bay, in her panic forgetting that she had her comm device, when Chris returned from where he’d run off to, carrying a short cylindrical container tightly in his fist. Everyone parted in the small gathering crowd to let him in. He slid on his knees and stopped right next to Carlton who was now lying on his back. With a pull at the wider, blue-colored end, Chris plunged the device into his companion’s thigh. Kahpi could hear a small click and Chris held the device firmly in place for a few tiks. As he pulled the device away, Chris looked up and his eyes met with Kahpi’s. “Get a medic here now,” He said calmly but with an intensity that snapped Kaphi out of her trance. Within a few moortiks, Medics Jeebarul and Minti were loading Carlton onto a stretcher and taking him back to the med bay, Chris and Kahpi were allowed to follow. Later, after a discussion with the humans, medics, and the captain, Kahpi learned that it was indeed a food allergy that had caused this whole mess. The colorful candies that had been okayed for human consumption were to blame, particularly the ones that contained an Earth food called “peanuts.” Alarmed at the news, Kahpi pulled up the files she had access to on the humans. Compared to other species on the ship, and throughout the entire galaxy for that matter, humans had a relatively short list of known allergens. Of the humans on the ship, her records only stated that Humans Chris and Ricardo had allergies. Shellfish and animal dander, respectively. Worried that she had failed in her duty of food safety, she scanned Carlton’s files over and over. “I don’t understand,” her voice trembled slightly as the captain frowned at her, “There’s nothing here. No known allergens.” The captain’s fins pulled back tightly against his face. “Then what happened? What was all that?” Chris, who had returned from helping the medics get Carlton settled, responded, “We’re pretty sure it was the peanuts. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” “But my records-” “Say that he doesn’t have a peanut allergy, yeah,” Chris interrupted, “but that just means he hasn’t been tested for it. He’s had no need to. He didn’t know. He didn’t use to be allergic to peanuts, but now as an adult, he is. Somehow, he hasn’t eaten anything with peanuts or peanut oil or whatever for years, so unluckily, he had no idea he was allergic.” He paused. “Or maybe it was lucky? I mean, we had an epipen on hand and he’s okay now, and now he knows so… I guess it was kind of lucky?” “What do you mean he wasn’t allergic before?” Kahpi sputtered. “That doesn’t make sense! How is he allergic now?” Chris shrugged. “It happens sometimes. You can develop an allergy to something later in life that used to be okay. No one really knows why.” Both Kahpi and the captain stared at him for a moment. The captain was the first to regain composure. “Well, I suppose it was fortunate that the medics had a supply of these… ‘epi-pens’ stocked.” He hesitated a moment in thought and then nodded to the cylinder that was still in Chris’ hand. “I suppose we better request more of those, just in case. What exactly do they do?” Chris lifted the ‘epipen’ up for better observation. “It’s got a dose of epinephrine in it. It’s adrenaline, so it constricts blood vessels and speeds up the heart so blood pressure rises and it helps relax muscles in your airway so you can breathe again.” They both stared at him. After an uncomfortable silence, Chris added, “It’s not very fun. But it keeps you alive until doctors can help.” The captain had a few more questions, both for Chris and for the medics when they came back out. All the while, Kahpi had time to try to ponder on and digest all the new information and implications this would bring to her job. Allergens were a thing among many species, yes. That’s why she had the job she had. However, few, if any that she could think of right now, had allergies that were caused by foods FROM THEIR OWN PLANET OF ORIGIN! Not only that, but some allergens were safe to eat for one human, but not another?! Where is the reason for that? What evolutionary purpose could that possibly serve for a species? Or was it just some weird fluke, one of so so many, that humans just came with? She buried her face in her hands. Well, this whole thing was going to throw a bit more complications to her job now. Apparently even human food wasn’t always safe for humans. Go. Flargin’. Figure.

[soliverse]

cinderella and the mystery of the red lipstick (sfw version) - d.sc

reader x roommate!winwin

genre: fluff, humor, (optional smut below)

warnings: a bunch of swearing, mean insults and a bit of gaslighting

word count: 2972

synopsis: this is another Cinderella fic, except for the fact that she left lipstick stains instead of glass slippers

tags:

@byutafy for the short notice beta reading. love you!

networks:

@nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

prompt:

The song it was based on was Lips by NCT 127 (although it leaned towards the demo version more)

It was also a bit upbeat because the song Cinderella by CNBLUE (the Youth With You version) has been stuck on my head for ages now.

Enjoy reading!

Love, Ellie.

It was already two in the afternoon but Winwin still stayed lying in bed, clutching his blanket close to his body in an attempt to prevent the chill of the afternoon breeze from coming in contact with his bare skin.

The plan was to stay in bed until all remnants of the vodka and last night's shenanigans have washed away. Or until he dies from starvation. But his roommates have other things in mind.

"WINWIN HYUNG!"

He was jolted awake by the loud noise coming from his bedroom window. Half-awake, he peeked through the sheets to see what the commotion was about.

The first thing he saw was Lucas holding his now broken doorknob in one hand, happily waving it around like a lightstick. Hendery was happily mumbling some bullshit that he didn't care enough to comprehend. Xiaojun was holding a tube-like contraption that he assumed was confetti, Ten and Yangyang were on the side, dancing like the game show girls while holding up each side of a handmade banner stating "Congrats on getting laid!" badly written with a green crayon. Meanwhile, Kun at the end of the line, leaning back at the door frame with his arms crossed while watching all of the chaos unfold right before him.

"Fuck off..."

Winwin grunted and grabbed the pillow under his head, throwing it with full force so that it ended up hitting Xiaojun on his chest.

They seem to have taken the hint because they all scrambled outside, laughing their asses off as they try to get away and avoid getting their asses kicked by a martial artist.

Meanwhile, Winwin buried his face under the thick sheets, trying his best to block the light coming from outside from reaching his eyes, heightening his already throbbing headache. He was planning to stay in bed no matter how loud his stomach grumbled, but his resolve is weaker than he expected. Begrudgingly, he dragged his tired ass out of bed to take a cold shower, hoping that will shake his hangover out.

///

“Holy shit.”

This wasn’t the usual statement that he says to himself whenever he would look at himself in the morning. However, as soon as he lifted his head in the mirror to wash his face, he might as well be an extra for a horror movie.

All over his upper body, especially the neck and chest area, was filled with red smudges. He also found tiny hints of it at the corners of his lips. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was lipstick.

Whoever he made out with (or had sex with) last night must’ve gone wild and tried to mark every part of him that she could place her lips on.

Winwin felt his heart sink. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember who he was last night. Just like his body, the memories of her red lips lingered on his mind. But that’s about it.

It took him a long time to squint his eyes and try to recall the moments leading up to him getting on the bed with someone, but it only made his headache worse. Defeated, he chose to let everything go and proceeded to hop in the shower just like he initially intended.

He opened the shower, letting it get to his desired temperature before he stepped in and let the water flow from his hair to the rest of his body. He didn’t move, instead of leaning one of his hands on the wall for support as he closed his eyes and tried to soothe himself with the water pressure from the showerhead. He took a deep breath, letting the air come out slowly of his lips, eyes still heavily shut.

That’s when the memories kicked in.

He finally remembered being in that same position, in a familiar corner of their dorm, as he leaned over to kiss the girl with the red lips. He also remembered the heat, the intensity of the kiss as his subconscious made him remember that he was gasping for air afterward. And so, he resorted to kissing her jaws instead. She willingly returned the favor, which is probably where he’d gotten the smudges that he found that morning, and how her red lips formed a proud smile as she kept on going, painting his fair skin with her rouge.

He sucked in another lungful of air before opening his eyes and hopping back into reality. He’s still clueless as to how the girl looked like, but he was determined to find out who’s the owner of those red luscious lips, and he would love it all over him again.

///

Sicheng came out of his room already dressed up, water still dripping from his hair to the towel that he placed on his neck. He made his way to the kitchen and he found the rest of his friends sitting around the table, smiling like idiots.

“What?”

He asked, already annoyed about how they’ve been acting all day, or at least, for the past two hours.

“Yangyang saw you enter your room last night. With a girl,” says Kun.

“Uhh, duh?” Ten replied, raising an eyebrow at the older as he grabbed the butter knife and spread peanut butter over a piece of bread.

“How sure is everyone that it was a girl?” Hendery squinted his eyes, trying to look intimidating as he interrogated his friend for further details about last night.

“Why is everyone so concerned if I fucked a girl or not? Or if I fucked at all?” Winwin replied in annoyance, coming out almost whiney, hoping that they would cut the questions out and leave him and his breakfast alone.

“You don’t know either, do you?” Xiaojun tried not to laugh as he stuffed a sunny-side-up egg in his mouth, failing at the last minute to the point that he almost spat some of it out.

Winwin sighed. He knows they will plague him with questions until next week and will do anything to squeeze it out of him at the best of their abilities. Him getting laid feels like some event to be celebrated because out of all the guys, he was the least interested in women. Not that he doesn’t like them, it’s that he just refused to do it unless he’s genuinely interested in the girl.

Or guy.

Was it a guy?

Winwin resorted to stuffing his mouth with as much food as he can because it would give him an excuse to not speak further and answer their questions. For how long he can keep it up is a question that he’ll have to face once his plate full of food is decimated.

///

By the time you get into your brother’s dorm, the whole place was so trashed that you even hesitated to proceed inside. However, your mother asked you that morning to come over to your brother’s dorm as he refuses to reply to her texts and respond to her calls that morning.

“Ssup, nerd.”

You always cringe whenever Hendery calls you that nickname. Not that it affects you or anything. It was just so… old-school. You’re a big fan of insults and you would certainly be happier if the nickname was a bit more creative.

“Ssup, failure.” You replied, sitting right beside him as you grabbed a plate and helped yourself with the food served at the table, courtesy of Kun. He’s the only one that’s competent enough to fry eggs that beautifully.

“Mom’s been calling non-stop since last night. I didn’t tell her I wasn’t with you. I couldn’t come up with an excuse so I just told her you slept early because of morning classes.”

Hendery snickered.

You and he have very different lifestyles. He was supposed to be two years ahead of you in college, but he’s always caught up in partying and having fun that he missed some subjects that he had to retake that year. One more fuck up and you’ll be joining him in classes next year. And as your parents’ only hope, you feel compelled to stay away from all the fun stuff until you graduate. That is also the reason why Hendery felt it was his moral obligation to shoo you away from last night’s party, despite sharing the same room as him.

At least that's what he told you. You have a reason to believe that he shooed you away last night just so he can do whatever he wanted without you around to snitch on him.

“Everything’s fine, kid. I already told her the same thing last night. You and I share the same brain.”

“Yes, except one of us has his brain fried by substance abuse and the other has a perfectly functioning human brain capable of making future science discoveries.”

Your eyes then diverted to the guy sitting right across you. He looked sickly and pale, his organs probably screaming inside asking to die.

“What’s up with him?” You asked your brother.

“He had done the deed with a guy last night.” Winwin, with an expressionless face, was quick to throw a flying spoon in Hendery’s direction. The milk splattered everywhere, but Hendery was able to evade it, laughing maniacally as he wiped the milk off of his arms.

“Hey, you’re good with this investigation stuff, right? Maybe you can help prince charming over here find his Cinderella?”

///

"Tell me what you can remember."

Winwin thought you looked ridiculous when you grabbed a pen and a notepad, looking like some low-budget investigator in the movie. He wasn't in the mood to play along, but he might as well humor you and find out what happened last night.

"This may not help at all, but I can't remember jack shit except for one thing," He paused. You raised both eyebrows expectantly, signaling him to answer faster. "Red lips. That's the one thing I haven't forgotten about."

You scribbled the word, red lips in your notepad.

You scribbled a few more words and nodded as if you understood its implication.

"Well, that doesn't narrow down the suspects at all."

You placed your notepad in your pocket and stood up from your seat.

"We shall now go and investigate the crime scene."

///

You decided that the crime scene was Winwin's bedroom since this is where he found himself last.

Winwin saw that you're very detail-oriented, looking at every nook at cranny to see traces of the mystery person around and aid in the investigation.

His room was cleaner than you'd expected, so finding things that stick out or are out of place will be a clear sign of the perpetrator.

You searched high and low, from the shelves to the bed, but you're only able to find two things that might help his case.

As soon as you lifted one of his pillowcases, you saw traces of red smeared across its white surface. Some of it even transferred in the bedsheets.

"Your story checks out. It is red lipstick." You lifted the pillow and walked towards Winwin, who's just sitting at one of his bean bags and mostly just observing you doing your stuff.

You pointed out the smudges to him and he nodded. You then proceeded to grab one of your magnifiers from your backpack and looked at the stains for closer inspection.

"Seeing its transferability, I can say that the lipstick in question has a satin finish. The shade, as far as I can see, is somewhere in between orange and bright red." You grabbed your notepad once again and listed down your observations.

"Know anyone who wears that often?" He proceeded to shake his head.

"Alright then. Now, we ask the witnesses."

You were about to leave the room when Winwin called you out to call your attention.

"Hmm?"

"I think there's something under the bed."

He stood up from his seat and proceeded to walk towards his bed, kneeling as he tried to reach for something below.

You were surprised to see what he found, though. In between his fingers is a piece of thin, lace material, glowing red just like the lipstick shade. It was someone's underwear.

"Yeah… I think we should keep that from the witnesses."

///

"Where were you at the time of the incident?"

As it turns out, the rest of the boys are no more helpful than Winwin. You just finished interviewing Kun, Ten, Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Lucas. The boys themselves barely remember what they did last night, let alone whatever their friend was doing. Meanwhile, the victim (aka Dong Sicheng) sat there right alongside you while you asked the questions. You asked them if they were helpful at all, but alas, nothing resonates to him.

"Hey, aren't you going to ask me about last night?"

Hendery popped out in the makeshift interrogation room (aka the living room) and sat down right beside you, peeking in at your notes.

"Nope. I only interview reliable sources. You can barely remember your stuff sober." You stuffed your notepad back again at your backpack, hugging it close to your body to keep it from your brother.

"I saw Winwin with someone though. He was making out with someone right just a few meters away from his bedroom."

"Go on…"

"I didn't see her well though. She was pinned across the wall and Sicheng hyung's body was blocking the view."

You sighed.

"See. It was pretty useless information."

He was about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"I'll keep them in mind, thank you very much."

///

You’ve finally sat down back again in the kitchen to give yourself a moment of peace to piece the things you found together. Winwin is just right beside you, just quietly observing just as usual.

Everything is laid out across the kitchen table, your notepad, the pillowcase, the underwear (which is kept in a ziplock bag for hygienic purposes).

“You still don’t remember anything?”

“I do remember seeing those before, but nothing is still coming out. I still can’t remember who she is.”

You can tell that Sicheng was getting a bit frustrated. He was trying his best to remember as he once again shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, seeing if there is anything that he is missing.

As he did this, Hendery popped in again in the kitchen, this time holding a full laundry basket.

“I would just like to let you know that I am being a good brother and roommate by doing your laundry.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you Hendery. You did well." You smiled at your brother to acknowledge him, but you mostly did it just to shoo him away from the investigation room. He seems to have gotten the idea and left as soon as he showed the basket to you for one last time.

He shut the door and you were met with a deafening silence once again. This time though, you felt weird energy coming from the guy right in front of you. He stared at you for a long time, specifically your lips, and then he started to break down right in front of you.

"Shit."

"Hmm?"

You asked him what the problem was, but all that came out of his mouth are grunts and a string of curses.

"You alright?"

He was now going between laughing and frustration, rubbing his hands on his face as he lets out all emotions.

"It was you all along. You're red lips girl."

You smiled as you looked at your phone to check the time.

"Five hours. I'm impressed. If that was my brother, it would've taken him a week or two."

"Why didn't you just tell me? I feel stupid."

"And take the fun out of it? Nope."

You then watch him react, different kinds of emotions flooding in at the same time. You laughed as you stood from your seat and patted his back.

"What gave it away?"

He stopped reacting for a while, composing himself as he relayed his deductions to you.

"I had my suspicions when you opened your bag to get the magnifying glass. I saw a red lipstick tube scattered across but I dismissed it since any girl would have lipstick on her bag. I was also confused when you refused to acknowledge the underwear. I saw it from my point of view, but it's like you purposely didn't look under the bed just so you won't find it. You know it was there, didn't you?"

You finally grabbed a seat right beside him, interested to hear what he has to say next.

"And then there's Hendery's story. You didn't ask him to mess with him. It's because he did see us. I remember now, it's what got us in this mess in the first place…"

You nodded to acknowledge him. You've always known that he's a bit smarter than the other guys, but he was very observant as well. That's why he was quiet all the time.

"Lastly, when Hendery came in with your laundry, there was something sticking out," He picked up the ziplock and held it across your face. "The bra that came with this, it was sandwiched along with your other clothing, but the bright color stuck out to me."

"Mhm… " You nodded in approval. You didn't even notice that last one, but he was able to pick that as well.

"And then I stared at your lips for a while. That's when it hit me. It was the same lips that I claimed last night. The red lips that drove me crazy…"

You gave him a small round of applause as he finished his spiel.

"Honestly, you were on point on everything. I'm just sad that you can't remember anything."

His moment of clarity was shut down and he smiled apologetically.

"Want me to tell you what happened?"

He nodded profusely.

It was already two in the afternoon but Winwin still stayed lying in bed, clutching his blanket close to his body in an attempt to prevent the chill of the afternoon breeze from coming in contact with his bare skin.

The plan was to stay in bed until all remnants of the vodka and last night's shenanigans have washed away. Or until he dies from starvation. But his roommates have other things in mind.

"WINWIN HYUNG!"

He was jolted awake by the loud noise coming from his bedroom window. Half-awake, he peeked through the sheets to see what the commotion was about.

The first thing he saw was Lucas holding his now broken doorknob in one hand, happily waving it around like a lightstick. Hendery was happily mumbling some bullshit that he didn't care enough to comprehend. Xiaojun was holding a tube-like contraption that he assumed was confetti, Ten and Yangyang were on the side, dancing like the game show girls while holding up each side of a handmade banner stating "Congrats on getting laid!" badly written with a green crayon. Meanwhile, Kun at the end of the line, leaning back at the door frame with his arms crossed while watching all of the chaos unfold right before him.

"Fuck off..."

Winwin grunted and grabbed the pillow under his head, throwing it with full force so that it ended up hitting Xiaojun on his chest.

They seem to have taken the hint because they all scrambled outside, laughing their asses off as they try to get away and avoid getting their asses kicked by a martial artist.

Meanwhile, Winwin buried his face under the thick sheets, trying his best to block the light coming from outside from reaching his eyes, heightening his already throbbing headache. He was planning to stay in bed no matter how loud his stomach grumbled, but his resolve is weaker than he expected. Begrudgingly, he dragged his tired ass out of bed to take a cold shower, hoping that will shake his hangover out.

///

“Holy shit.”

This wasn’t the usual statement that he says to himself whenever he would look at himself in the morning. However, as soon as he lifted his head in the mirror to wash his face, he might as well be an extra for a horror movie.

All over his upper body, especially the neck and chest area, was filled with red smudges. He also found tiny hints of it at the corners of his lips. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was lipstick.

Whoever he made out with (or had sex with) last night must’ve gone wild and tried to mark every part of him that she could place her lips on.

Winwin felt his heart sink. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember who he was last night. Just like his body, the memories of her red lips lingered on his mind. But that’s about it.

It took him a long time to squint his eyes and try to recall the moments leading up to him getting on the bed with someone, but it only made his headache worse. Defeated, he chose to let everything go and proceeded to hop in the shower just like he initially intended.

He opened the shower, letting it get to his desired temperature before he stepped in and let the water flow from his hair to the rest of his body. He didn’t move, instead of leaning one of his hands on the wall for support as he closed his eyes and tried to soothe himself with the water pressure from the showerhead. He took a deep breath, letting the air come out slowly of his lips, eyes still heavily shut.

That’s when the memories kicked in.

He finally remembered being in that same position, in a familiar corner of their dorm, as he leaned over to kiss the girl with the red lips. He also remembered the heat, the intensity of the kiss as his subconscious made him remember that he was gasping for air afterward. And so, he resorted to kissing her jaws instead. She willingly returned the favor, which is probably where he’d gotten the smudges that he found that morning, and how her red lips formed a proud smile as she kept on going, painting his fair skin with her rouge.

He sucked in another lungful of air before opening his eyes and hopping back into reality. He’s still clueless as to how the girl looked like, but he was determined to find out who’s the owner of those red luscious lips, and he would love it all over him again.

///

Sicheng came out of his room already dressed up, water still dripping from his hair to the towel that he placed on his neck. He made his way to the kitchen and he found the rest of his friends sitting around the table, smiling like idiots.

“What?”

He asked, already annoyed about how they’ve been acting all day, or at least, for the past two hours.

“Hendery saw you enter your room last night. With a girl,” says Kun.

“Uhh, duh?” Ten replied, raising an eyebrow at the older as he grabbed the butter knife and spread peanut butter over a piece of bread.

“How sure is everyone that it was a girl?” Yangyang squinted his eyes, trying to look intimidating as he interrogated his friend for further details about last night.

“Why is everyone so concerned if I fucked a girl or not? Or if I fucked someone at all?” Winwin replied in annoyance, coming out almost whiney, hoping that they would cut the questions out and leave him and his breakfast alone.

“You don’t know either, do you?” Xiaojun tried not to laugh as he stuffed a sunny-side-up egg in his mouth, failing at the last minute to the point that he almost spat some of it out.

Winwin sighed. He knows they will plague him with questions until next week and will do anything to squeeze it out of him at the best of their abilities. Him getting laid feels like some event to be celebrated because out of all the guys, he was the least interested in women. Not that he doesn’t like them, it’s that he just refused to do it unless he’s genuinely interested in the girl.

Or guy.

Was it a guy?

Winwin resorted to stuffing his mouth with as much food as he can because it would give him an excuse to not speak further and answer their questions. For how long he can keep it up is a question that he’ll have to face once his plate full of food is decimated.

///

By the time you get into your brother’s dorm, the whole place was so trashed that you even hesitated to proceed inside. However, your mother asked you that morning to come over to your brother’s dorm as he refuses to reply to her texts and respond to her calls that morning.

“Ssup, nerd.”

You always cringe whenever Hendery calls you that nickname. Not that it affects you or anything. It was just so… old-school. You’re a big fan of insults and you would certainly be happier if the nickname was a bit more creative.

“Ssup, failure.” You replied, sitting right beside him as you grabbed a plate and helped yourself with the food served at the table, courtesy of Kun. He’s the only one that’s competent enough to fry eggs that beautifully.

“Mom’s been calling non-stop since last night. I didn’t tell her I wasn’t with you. I couldn’t come up with an excuse so I just told her you slept early because of morning classes.”

Hendery snickered.

You and he have very different lifestyles. He was supposed to be two years ahead of you in college, but he’s always caught up in partying and having fun that he missed some subjects that he had to retake that year. One more fuck up and you’ll be joining him in classes next year. And as your parents’ only hope, you feel compelled to stay away from all the fun stuff until you graduate. That is also the reason why Hendery felt it was his moral obligation to shoo you away from last night’s party, despite sharing the same room as him.

At least that's what he told you. You have a reason to believe that he shooed you away last night just so he can do whatever he wanted without you around to snitch on him.

“Everything’s fine, kid. I already told her the same thing last night. You and I share the same brain.”

“Yes, except one of us has his brain fried by substance abuse and the other has a perfectly functioning human brain capable of making future science discoveries.”

Your eyes then diverted to the guy sitting right across you. He looked sickly and pale, his organs probably screaming inside asking to die.

“What’s up with him?” You asked your brother.

“He had done the deed with a guy last night.” Winwin, with an expressionless face, was quick to throw a flying spoon in Hendery’s direction. The milk splattered everywhere, but Hendery was able to evade it, laughing maniacally as he wiped the milk off of his arms.

“Hey, you’re good with this investigation stuff, right? Maybe you can help prince charming over here find his Cinderella?”

///

"Tell me what you can remember."

Winwin thought you looked ridiculous when you grabbed a pen and a notepad, looking like some low-budget investigator in the movie. He wasn't in the mood to play along, but he might as well humor you and find out what happened last night.

"This may not help at all, but I can't remember jack shit except for one thing," He paused. You raised both eyebrows expectantly, signaling him to answer faster. "Red lips. That's the one thing I haven't forgotten about."

You scribbled the word, red lips in your notepad.

You scribbled a few more words and nodded as if you understood its implication.

"Well, that doesn't narrow down the suspects at all."

You placed your notepad in your pocket and stood up from your seat.

"We shall now go and investigate the crime scene."

///

You decided that the crime scene was Winwin's bedroom since this is where he found himself last.

Winwin saw that you're very detail-oriented, looking at every nook at cranny to see traces of the mystery person around and aid in the investigation.

His room was cleaner than you'd expected, so finding things that stick out or are out of place will be a clear sign of the perpetrator.

You searched high and low, from the shelves to the bed, but you're only able to find two things that might help his case.

As soon as you lifted one of his pillowcases, you saw traces of red smeared across its white surface. Some of it even transferred in the bedsheets.

"Your story checks out. It is red lipstick." You lifted the pillow and walked towards Winwin, who's just sitting at one of his bean bags and mostly just observing you doing your stuff.

You pointed out the smudges to him and he nodded. You then proceeded to grab one of your magnifiers from your backpack and looked at the stains for closer inspection.

"Seeing its transferability, I can say that the lipstick in question has a satin finish. The shade, as far as I can see, is somewhere in between orange and bright red." You grabbed your notepad once again and listed down your observations.

"Know anyone who wears that often?" He proceeded to shake his head.

"Alright then. Now, we ask the witnesses."

You were about to leave the room when Winwin called you out to call your attention.

"Hmm?"

"I think there's something under the bed."

He stood up from his seat and proceeded to walk towards his bed, kneeling as he tried to reach for something below.

You were surprised to see what he found, though. In between his fingers is a piece of thin, lace material, glowing red just like the lipstick shade. It was someone's underwear.

"Yeah… I think we should keep that from the witnesses."

///

"Where were you at the time of the incident?"

As it turns out, the rest of the boys are no more helpful than Winwin. You just finished interviewing Kun, Ten, Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Lucas. The boys themselves barely remember what they did last night, let alone whatever their friend was doing. Meanwhile, the victim (aka Dong Sicheng) sat there right alongside you while you asked the questions. You asked them if they were helpful at all, but alas, nothing resonates to him.

"Hey, aren't you going to ask me about last night?"

Hendery popped out in the makeshift interrogation room (aka the living room) and sat down right beside you, peeking in at your notes.

"Nope. I only interview reliable sources. You can barely remember your stuff sober." You stuffed your notepad back again at your backpack, hugging it close to your body to keep it from your brother.

"I saw Winwin with someone though. He was making out with someone right just a few meters away from his bedroom."

"Go on…"

"I didn't see her well though. She was pinned across the wall and Sicheng hyung's body was blocking the view."

You sighed.

"See. It was pretty useless information."

He was about to say something else, but you cut him off.

"I'll keep them in mind, thank you very much."

///

You’ve finally sat down back again in the kitchen to give yourself a moment of peace to piece the things you found together. Winwin is just right beside you, just quietly observing just as usual.

Everything is laid out across the kitchen table, your notepad, the pillowcase, the underwear (which is kept in a ziplock bag for hygienic purposes).

“You still don’t remember anything?”

“I do remember seeing those before, but nothing is still coming out. I still can’t remember who she is.”

You can tell that Sicheng was getting a bit frustrated. He was trying his best to remember as he once again shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, seeing if there is anything that he is missing.

As he did this, Hendery popped in again in the kitchen, this time holding a full laundry basket.

“I would just like to let you know that I am being a good brother and roommate by doing your laundry.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you Hendery. You did well." You smiled at your brother to acknowledge him, but you mostly did it just to shoo him away from the investigation room. He seems to have gotten the idea and left as soon as he showed the basket to you for one last time.

He shut the door and you were met with a deafening silence once again. This time though, you felt weird energy coming from the guy right in front of you. He stared at you for a long time, specifically your lips, and then he started to break down right in front of you.

"Shit."

"Hmm?"

You asked him what the problem was, but all that came out of his mouth are grunts and a string of curses.

"You alright?"

He was now going between laughing and frustration, rubbing his hands on his face as he lets out all emotions.

"It was you all along. You're red lips girl."

You smiled as you looked at your phone to check the time.

"Five hours. I'm impressed. If that was my brother, it would've taken him a week or two."

"Why didn't you just tell me? I feel stupid."

"And take the fun out of it? Nope."

You then watch him react, different kinds of emotions flooding in at the same time. You laughed as you stood from your seat and patted his back.

"What gave it away?"

He stopped reacting for a while, composing himself as he relayed his deductions to you.

"I had my suspicions when you opened your bag to get the magnifying glass. I saw a red lipstick tube scattered across but I dismissed it since any girl would have lipstick on her bag. I was also confused when you refused to acknowledge the underwear. I saw it from my point of view, but it's like you purposely didn't look under the bed just so you won't find it. You know it was there, didn't you?"

You finally grabbed a seat right beside him, interested to hear what he has to say next.

"And then there's Hendery's story. You didn't ask him to mess with him. It's because he did see us. I remember now, it's what got us in this mess in the first place…"

You nodded to acknowledge him. You've always known that he's a bit smarter than the other guys, but he was very observant as well. That's why he was quiet all the time.

"Lastly, when Hendery came in with your laundry, there was something sticking out," He picked up the ziplock and held it across your face. "The bra that came with this, it was sandwiched along with your other clothing, but the bright color stuck out to me."

"Mhm… " You nodded in approval. You didn't even notice that last one, but he was able to pick that as well.

"And then I stared at your lips for a while. That's when it hit me. It was the same lips that I claimed last night. The red lips that drove me crazy…"

You gave him a small round of applause as he finished his spiel.

"Honestly, you were on point on everything. I'm just sad that you can't remember anything."

His moment of clarity was shut down and he smiled apologetically.

"Want me to tell you what happened?"

He nodded profusely.

(link to the optional smut right here)

[becausethathappens]

Will you please write a super angsty fic where Link is freaking out because he thinks the wedding vows he has written aren't good enough and Rhett helps him go over them and make corrections and says they're perfect but also, just says the vows he would say for Link if it was them like it should've been because he's heartbroken and Link can tell but their hands are tied and they don't know what to do so they soldier on without saying a word, but wordlessly communicating lifelong love and misery and everything, maybe comfort as well?

i'm really really sad and i can't shake it off and i really want some good angst and hurt/comfort and i really love you, maura, you're awesome

I don't do unhappy endings, anon. I'm confident you don't either. In fiction or otherwise. So, pardon this if it’s not what you expected.

Please enjoy? This was done a little hastily to share it with you (and I should be writing other things per usual) but I've had a rough week and I want to hopefully make someone smile. (I have way angstier stuff in the drafts and I will be sure to get those out eventually, too.) You’ll feel better soon.  🤞  Thank you! 💞

-———————-

now or forever

4k - Rhett writes Link vows.

If you were my boy, Blue

I’d bathe you in honeys (sp?)

I’d sing write you a love song

I’d shoot you a star**

If you were my boy, Blue

There ain’t nothing in this life I wouldn’t give

From my heart, to my toes, to my fingers, my nose (**)

Whatever it takes just to watch you live 

continue to ‘ ’ grow with you like a vine ‘round a rose 

If you were my boy, Bue

I wouldn’t want you all for myself

There’s no star bright enough to match your lightin’

In sickness, blue, so certainly while we have health

Hand in hand, no longer fightin’

What’s destiny (**)

You and & me

If you were my boy, Blue

I'd marry you

&

Thank God for Rhett. Giving him, delivering him, blessing him with Rhett.

Link is in the middle of a spiral (what he’ll later recognize as a panic attack) when Rhett arrives, the eve of his wedding. Bailing him out of this with pen, paper, and a smile.

Link has always been good at improv.

Though Rhett tended to find the words to start. These were his own vows and Link has been putting time to sit and start them off for weeks. Now that he has to, he’s dumbfounded, despite being deeply in love.

Amidst all the planning and chaos, writing his vows was such a given that Link left it as priority sixty-seven on a list of many more.

Unfortunately, even as busy as they’ve been, that list was shredded with the “who gifted what” tracking sheet (both literally, accidentally, and figuratively) back around the bridal shower and it’s been anarchy ever since.

So he thanks God for Rhett, who’s here, to stop another needless disaster from happening.

That same generous God, however, watches him plagued with thoughts of utter devotion at Rhett’s willingness to drop everything on a weeknight and rush over to help Link find his words.

His lyrics, really, is what Link has in mind. Since they used to write songs together and this felt much the same. He’s been floundering all night and now that Rhett’s here, he knows he’ll at least get what he needs done. Even if it’s not all he wants, right now.

That same God seeks judgment on his every decision or flinch against His will, for any reason, to spite him.

For this reason.

He wants to smush Rhett’s face and kiss him. Deeply. He doesn’t.

Even if there were sometime in the past that he could get away with a platonic smooch, now he can’t. He simply could not prevent that from escalating.

So, he merely tightens his grip on the wrinkled scrap paper in his hand and scrunches his eyes.

“Why can’t it be you up there…” Link bemoans, loudly, in his frustration.

Rhett’s eyes widen, in horror, and Link slams his other hand at his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Not like - I mean - why can’t you go say my lines for me. You’re so much better at this kinda thing.”

“Let me read what you’ve got,” Rhett says.

After some review, Rhett sighs, not unkindly and sits down next to Link. “Let’s just talk through what you’re trying to say because, yeah, this reads like liturgy.”

“Ain’t is supposed to? It’s in a chapel!”

“What do you like about her?” Rhett asks, ignoring his nitpicking. “Christy?” Rhett stares at him, waiting, too upset for Link to chastise but clearly wanting to.

“She’s patient,” Link says, reminded by the similar. Rhett folds over the book to an open page and clicks the pen in his hand, writing that down. “A-And she’s kind. Like considerate, ‘specially with babies and little animals. Sh-She does this thing where she immediately drops to their eye-level to make sure they don’t feel unheard or seen. Probably ‘cause she’s always been so tall…”

Rhett’s still writing.

“Then when I’m sick, she forces me to rest. You know I hate that,�� Link says, voice rising a little, at the memory. “But you know I need that. You won’t be the last to make me stop and smell the roses or take a break, once in a while.”

“Her hair, write, her hair - the way it looks in the sunshine. Like warm caramel with flecks of gold. She’s a vision, an angel. Especially when she’s wearing all white, like,” Link says, pausing to point to Rhett’s undershirt and pale grey sweats. “Makes blondes look ethereal-like, always has.”

“Oh, and her voice. Sometimes, the way her accent catches, well, you know she don’t like to sing like us, never has, but when she says certain things, asks a question the right way - it’s music. The way it harmonizes with my answer, reminds me of singing, reminds me of us.”

Rhett keeps writing, quiet, and focused.

After a short time, Link can’t stop and wants to crane over to see what he’s come up with. Rhett hands it over after crossing a final “t” somewhere on the page.

“Those’re good, Link, but I think you need to keep closer to what I wrote, leave out the stuff about me.”

“Stuff about you?” Link asks, having spoken in a stream-of-conscious style, Link forgets most of what he even said

Rhett looks away, shakes his head.

Distracted by the desire to read the rest, Link abandons the lingering questions he has about Rhett’s suggestion and response.

“These are great, man, thanks,” Links says, pushing a soft hand into Rhett’s side.

His eyes scan to the bottom where Rhett’s added a few lines about the journey, the marriage, all the ceremonial aspects of the day for him to close with, but then something more.

Something about him.

Rhett catches him catch it and looks further away. “I know Christy pretty well, too, y’know. Y’all are just alike, in that way. She might need some back-up vows, to have and hold.”

Link reads them.

“You know, just in case.”

Link looks up and tries to laugh.

He doesn’t laugh.

He goes back to reading them.

Rhett shifts uncomfortably, touches the back of his neck, and shuts his eyes.

“Rhett, these ’re…”

“I know, bo, you can forget ‘em,” Rhett excuses, still not meeting Link’s gaze. “You want me to… I can rewrite the others on a different - I can turn the page and write ‘em there so you can just…”

“Hey, hey,” Link interrupts him, mad at Rhett putting down his best friend, and eager to explain his actual thoughts. “Rhett, these are perfect. These are… I’m sad I can’t say anything as nice in return to you.”

Rhett finally looks up to acknowledge that and their gaze heats and lingers.

“Not that I…” Link stutters to clarify. “Y-You’d have to be a - if that’s something that was gonna - you know - if that was gonna work…”

His mind does it’s usual jump to a visual for the worst case scenario depicting the implication he stumbled across. Him out eight grand on the wedding. Not to mention a wife, a family, a future, a faith -

a friend -

Link gulps, pushing that back away, pushing them both forward, in his estimation.

It’s too much to bear to think about for another second. When he glances at Rhett, he can’t get a read on his face what he thinks about it, and that’s scary enough for him to want to abandon the concept altogether.

“Christy’s gonna love them.”

It’s enough, saying his fiancée's name, to ground him again. Enough to make it okay for him to grab Rhett’s palm and squeeze it in thanks, between them.

Rhett’s made his choice to give up on film school.

Link’s made his choice to give up on whatever schoolboy obsession he has with monopolizing all of Rhett’s days and nights. 

He’ll stick to the days or every other weekend, however they can still fit time together, is fine by him. This ceremony, tomorrow, feels as much about his graduation from friend to husband, and all that that entails.

They’re adults.

They both know there’s a lot of sacrifices to be made and this feels like the first time he’s really acknowledging how hard they’re going to be to make. He hopes they’ll still see each other.

He hopes their kids will get along.

He has a lot of hopes.

All of them involve Rhett.

There’s a lot he should write down for when Rhett finds his own bride to wed.

Link notices, suddenly, that Rhett is crying. The same part of him that's nearly broken the headwind of these conflicting emotions turns back to comfort him.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Link soothes, realizing he’s also still holding Rhett’s hand.

“‘M sorry,” Rhett intones, the words bubble up and out of him simultaneously, sounding like water draining in a filled sink. “And the night before your wedding, good Heavens.”

“Hey, I’ve been crying all week,” Link says, waving a hand at the stress that planning a wedding has kept put on him. “Nothing I haven’t seen in the mirror.”

Rhett laughs, rubbing a thumb over his own thigh in a way that brushes upwards against the place Link’s clasping his hand. Link nearly pulls his hand back, thinking Rhett’s trying to get him to sense his want for space, but when he meets his eye it’s clear he’d like nothing less.

“I think I’m just -” Rhett starts to say, trailing off. The light from the lamp on the far coffee table is the only thing on in the room. Link drops his gaze a few inches to try and see more of Rhett’s downturned eyes as he hems and haws. He squeezes their hands together, again, this time clasping it more firmly, still pressing Rhett’s large palm down from above. “I think I’m just a li’l jealous, is all.”

It’s the quietest admission he’s heard from Rhett since he told him he failed their chemistry mid-term in eleventh grade.

Link is also so lost at the innocence of the admission that he can only think of follow-up questions. “Of me?”

Rhett looks at him for a long, long minute and finally, when Link’s gaze remains confused for the whole length of the pause, he shakes his head, no.

Then he waits. 

He waits for Link to realize what he means.

But he’s still waiting when Link, oblivious, moves onward trying to comfort Rhett, instead of understanding him fully.

The tension in the room is palpable as Link talks, but only to Rhett, it seems. Only Rhett pictures air bags being deployed in a car safety video as metal hits cinder block. Only Rhett moves his hand, though it’s all it takes to dislodge them from each other completely.

“I know you’re gonna make an amazing husband some day.” Link is saying.

Rhett’s hand aches where cool air now surrounds it.

“I know your wife is gonna get to hear you say such wonderful things about her.”

Rhett wipes his hand of the misunderstanding on the cotton of his pants.

“I know she’s gonna say the same kind of things about you, when it’s your turn up there.”

Rhett mourns the idea that this would ever be requited.

“I know she’s gonna love you, just as much as I do, so she’ll have plenty to say.”

Rhett looks away, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes. 

 “I’ll make sure she has plenty of ideas where to start.”

Rhett pats Link’s leg, in camaraderie, and nods.

And that’s it. They shoot the shit, they make a plan to meet up at a donut place for the groomsmen’s breakfast to thank them for their help, before the ceremony, and they’ll talk things through if Link’s feeling jittery still. Then Rhett’s gone.

It’s not until the next day at eleven on the dot (everyone has an agenda to follow and every moment is accounted for) that Link understands Rhett’s pain.

His mother straightens his tie and flattens the edges of his suit. “You’ll wanna know I heard Christy looks like an angel in her dress, from the girls upstairs.”

“Those actual angels you been talkin’ to, Sue?” Rhett jokes, where he’s twisting his cummerbund around every so often, bored.

“Very funny, honey,” Sue ribs back. “From the cousins, Beth and Hailee Sue. Remember they’re friends with the hairstylist you got to do the curls for Christy’s hair, today? She was over last night getting Christy ready for bed with how to wash and dry it a special kind of way. They were there, too.”

Link starts to tune her out, since there’s a lot on his mind, but then she says more.

“She says the hairstylist was talking about how jealous she was of Christy, all night, getting to marry you,” Sue relays.

“Oh, mama, please,” Link dismisses. The compliments he’s been getting have felt faker than the toupee on his uncle Bruce. That girl has never even met him. “I’m the only person here people should be jealous of, who would be jealous of Christy,” he says, trailing off, muttering his reasoning as he did. “Marrying a trainwreck like me.”

Link looks up in the mirror where some of his friends continue to mingle in various states of undress. Rhett is already dressed, however, and staring straight at Link like he’s been caught with a hand in a cookie jar.

Link’s about to ask what’s wrong when he remembers his words. Then looks again over the planes of Rhett’s face.

Last night’s words slam back into his mind and Link’s mouth drops open.

The church organ belts out an opening flurry of notes before Canon in D begins playing loudly through the sound system built into the rafters above them. Link looks up to see one of the church staff at the door instructing them to join the bridal party to line-up.

Link’s mom dashes off to where she’s paired with her nephew, Link’s favorite cousin, to be escorted down the aisle.

Rhett sees Link’s face rushing through a wash of emotions from a distance, he nods to the staffer in silent understanding that he’ll handle it, and then they’re alone.

He walks up to Link and takes his hand. He squeezes it.

“Hey, you gotta go. We gotta go. It’s showtime,” Rhett insists.

Link looks around like a bomb went off, since in some ways it did, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Rhett seems to pick up on that. He squeezes Link’s hand again.

“I’ll get over it, Link, it’s okay,” Rhett whispers, on the verge of desperation.

That confirmation is enough to fully shatter Link.

Only for a moment. 

The music continues and Rhett keeps his hand hold.

They are adults. They are in love. They have to marry. 

None of these things can be helped.

“I’m gonna be so jealous of Her, too,” Link whispers back. He squeezes Rhett’s hand one last time, as they part.

They leave.

They walk straight.

They part again.

Until later.

They move houses and cities and states.

They move mountains, inside and out.

They move together.

Much later.

They join again.

They run crooked.

They return.

To one another.

Link has spent years worrying a ring that means too much to too few people.

In the beginning, when he cries himself to sleep at what he thinks has been the mistake of a lifetime, it’s His talisman. It reminds him of the expectations upon this life he’s made.

As the years pass, however, the adherence to the bogeymen of their childhood’s rules wears thin. It starts to strictly represent love and patience.

Sacrifice.

It begins to feel like a burden. A representation of what’s been lost, not what’s been found.

He contemplates taking it off, but believes that to be a betrayal of all that it stands for to the people he stands for. 

Then, one day, (surely mid-spin) he hears Rhett tell a story about wanting to change his ring.

He watches the silver twirl as Rhett explains.

He believes he was rushed into a certain type of marriage and a certain type of life by a certain type of person.

It’s a life that he’s grown to love but the ring represents a union forced by custom and not one that’s grown through devotion. 

His ring reminds him of that too often to be good for him.

Link twists his again at the admission.

So, Rhett’s thinking about replacing the ring.

Link returns home that night in a stupor. He’s sure he said one too many things to Rhett to emphasize how wild it felt to hear him talk about changing rings.

Any memories of that day, their wedding, bring up a rush of emotions that he’s never been good at sorting through.

Today’s admission makes him feel the same spur to make use of idle, betrothed hands he feels when he cleans the fridge.

He wants to clean the slate.

He finds an old DVD copy of their wedding ceremony that he paid to have converted from miniDV some years ago. Now he struggles to find a place to watch that DVD. How quickly time has flown by.

Eventually, he ends up in his son’s room - no one’s home for the remainder of the night but he and Christy - now, he’s sitting on a bean bag, squinting at the game console’s controller trying to get the joysticks to move to “play” on screen.

The ceremony bursts to life and, like it was yesterday, Link’s nerves fizzle awake.

About halfway through the video, Christy finds him like that and sits down next to him in a thwump absorbed mostly by the stuffing of the chair.

They watch themselves smile happily at each other and Christy takes his hand.

“Should I be happy or scared to find you alone watching this on a Saturday night?” she asks, wryly, squeezing his palm.

Link doesn’t know what to say. He’s caught up in Rhett’s bygone script being spoken on screen. Words about Christy and about Link that were not their own, declared loudly in front of the congregation.

“I don’t know,” Link admits, shrugging. He doesn’t. He squeezes her hand back.

“You wanna tell me what’s eating you?”

Link hesitates, but relents. He wants that clean slate, after all. “Rhett’s getting his wedding ring replaced.”

“Replaced?” Christy asks, balking.

“Replaced, yeah,” Link responds, sure he didn’t misspeak.

“With what?” she asks.

“Oh, some new one. Fancy thing, very cool, made of trees or something. Honestly he wears the other one, the slick black one more than his wedding band half the time. He says it feels like the old one? It’s the kind of ring you get in a bauble at a vending machine crank. So, he wants a new one.”

“Jeesh,” Christy says, making a face at the screen. The camera catches Rhett stealing glances at the couple, then at the crowd, beaming at all with unbridled pride.

“Wouldn’t you be mad if I did that?” Link inquires, still baffled at the idea.

“Well, no, but don’t you love your ring? Heirloom and all that,” she says.

Link cringes. “Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I do.”

“So?”

“So, I still kind of want to and I’m not sure what that means.”

They watch the screen together.

“Do you wanna stay married?” she asks, in a small voice.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

There’s a long pause.

“To me?” she asks, her voice even smaller.

“Yes,” he breathes in.

She squeezes his hand, her confidence built back up. She begs him to join her.

“And him?” Christy whispers.

They both look the screen, the lens centered on the two of them, but their gaze is mutually torn to where Rhett stands wiping a tear from his eye at Christy reciting the last of the vows that he wrote her. Wrote him. Wrote them both.

She squeezes his hand again.

“Yes,” he breathes out.

She leans her head on his shoulder.

“You should probably get another ring, then,” she jests. “We shouldn’t have to share everything.”

The slate is clean.

There’s a lot he wants to say to Rhett about it, but just as before, he’s relied on Rhett to give him the right words to say. So, instead of words, he starts wearing Rhett’s ring.

Then, a new one, when he realizes he can match him separate from the other, all told. Have something of Rhett’s, all to himself.

In his unspoken push towards something more, their hands now match along with their steps, as they walk forward.

On the last week in July, they get ice cream at the fifth place that month to mistake them for husbands, but the first one he hears Link crow an affirmative in response.

Rhett waits for him while he triple-tips the cashier (for the guess) and pays for their cones.

“Bad joke,” Rhett says, softly, but firm.

“Who’s kidding?” Link parries back, a smirk dancing it’s way across his lips.

Rhett watches him with a wistful look of disbelief.

“Link, we’re married,” Rhett warns him.

Link shrugs. “I know. I’m just waiting for you to figure that out and minding my ice cream here, all right?”

He’s got a mouthful of vanilla bean and extra cookie crumble, the next second, so his vow ends there.

Later, at home, Rhett startles Jessie awake when he fully realizes Link’s words.

He shakes her awake. He shakes them both awake.

“I’m in love with Link,” he says, like it’s a confession.

She kisses him because so is she. So are most people.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Rhett repeats himself.

So does she.

They stare at each other under the cover of silk and moonlight.

“We’re married,” Rhett whispers, touching his hand to hers. Their rings clink, new and shiny.

“Yeah, and so are we,” she whispers back.

They fall asleep smiling.

The next day, Rhett sneaks up behind Link while he’s working and causes him to spill his cup of coffee. He gets the stink eye for only a minute because it’s the same length of time he can stand Link’s grumpy mug before he has to swoop down and kiss him on the lips.

“You figured it out,” Link says, grinning.

“I did,” Rhett chirps as he kisses Link more.

They take a car to their house. It’s filled with their love and the history of it; before, during, and after.

“What’s this?” Link asks, dazed in their post-sex glow, naked and alive.

He spots an old chord book of theirs from last time they wrote music.

“Oh,” Rhett says, bashful. “I came looking for you here this morning, hoping you slept over again, but, uh,” Rhett stalls, looks away and tries to take the songbook from Link’s hand. Link pulls it far enough he can’t reach. “You were already at the job.”

“And?” Link asks, using his spry, sinewy body as an advantage to slink away from the bed out of Rhett’s grip. He still has the book in hand.

“Those are your vows,” Rhett explains.

Link looks down and squints, confused. These aren’t the vows that Christy read at their wedding. He’s seen that video only a few months back and is sure of it.

“Our vows,” Rhett whispers, explaining further, at Link’s puzzled look.

“It’s a love song,” Link notes, marveling at the gesture. What it means to a young version of himself that once felt like they had surely cut out and mourned the possibility of this - all of this - ever happening. To have that thought coexist with the image of a nude, hulking tree trunk of a husband laid before him smiling up adoringly felt panoptic.

“So are you.”

Link begins to cry.

“Play it for me.”

Rhett wipes his cheek.

“Get my guitar.”

They sing twice more that night, always in harmony (not always in lyric), then spend the rest of their lives together doing much the same.

[brendaaaa]

Lab Partners (Steve Harrington x fem!Reader)

“And the last pair will be…Steve Harrington and Y/n L/n.”

You bit your lip and turned to look at the king of Hawkins high. He wasn’t looking back at you, or even paying attention to anything the teacher was saying, but was whispering with his friend Tommy H instead. You watched him chuckle at what was probably some stupid remark his friend said, and your eyes intently focused in on him running his hand through his expertly teased hair, messing it up.

You closed your mouth, realizing that it had fallen slightly open whilst watching him. You coughed, and made eye contact with your friend Kelly. She was looking at you with wide eyes, and a bit of a smirk on her face.

Of course. Of course with your worst luck you would end up with Harrington. The boy was an asshole. And that was that. But you thought, rather bitterly, that didn’t change the fact that you were totally in love with him. Yep. Go ahead and shoot y/n. You were smitten with the hottest possible douchebag of the whole damn town of Hawkins.

You had never even really talked to him. Maybe he had brushed past your shoulder once in the hallways back in middle school, or perhaps you’d maybe randomly made eye contact with him once across the cafeteria on a rainy day where you weren’t sitting outside on the baseball fields like usual.

Anyways, logically speaking, there was no real reason for you to like him. Other than for his looks of course, which was somewhat shallow reasoning. And this was a fact that you absolutely hated. You cringed knowing that this boy could make your eyes drop to the floor in an instant, face blushing red, trying to look at anyone, anywhere but him, and there wasn’t a single thing about his actual personality, or what you knew about him, that you even remotely liked.

So that is precisely why your stomach was a flip flop of fluttery and unwelcome emotions when your chem teacher assigned you and Steve Harrington as lab partners for the final project of sophomore year.

The devil on your shoulder was delighted, thrilled even to be paired with the basketball team hottie, but your true consciousness fought back, protesting and feeling guilty that you were only drooling over him because of how cute he was. And besides, you didn’t want to have to deal with his jerkish attitude. Oh dear lord you were going to have to invite him over to your house. You didn’t want him to be in your bedroom! Your personal space! But that nagging subconscious was telling you, ‘yes y/n yes, this is the break you’ve finally been waiting for. All this time and Steve will finally be all yours, all yours. You can seduce him, charm him, he’ll be yours, all yours!’

You grappled under your desk for your water bottle. You seriously needed some ice cold water to keep you regulated, keep those unwanted thoughts out.

There weren’t many good sides to getting the hair as your partner.

If the rumors were true, Harrington had never gotten an A in any class, like ever. So surely he would be a drag to have around this project, full of dumb comments and contributing nothing, no real substantial work towards getting a grade.

You swished down some more water. Life would be so much easier if your teacher would just let you be partners with Kelly. She was a real one, your best friend since forever really. She could sort of empathize with how you were feeling, since apparently she had a thing for a guy ‘just like Steve, only worse’ when she was in California last summer. That made you feel better. You two could vent together about how hard it was liking such hot assholes.

You decided to be bold. You raised your hand. Kelly shot you a look. She was watching you like you were about to tell your mom that you had snuck out the night before. Social suicide. Looking at you like you were crazy, and whatever you were about to do was unpredictable as hell.

Which was probably true.

“Yes, Miss L/n?” The teacher pointed his ruler at you, giving you permission to speak.

“May I choose another partner?”

Kelly’s jaw dropped open, and she looked from you to Steve, back to you, up to the teacher. Although everyone else in the class was bored out of their gourds, Kelly knew you like she knew her own self, maybe even better, and she was living for this shit show of emotions you were displaying.

“Umm…” the teacher fiddled with the pen hanging out of his breast pocket with one hand, while his other finger slid down a clipboard, looking for where your name was listed.

“Ah, yes with Mr. Harrington,” he mumbled to himself, before looking back up at you quizzically.

“Is there any issue with your current pairing? Something wrong with Mr. Harrington?”

At this Steve finally took notice, frowning slightly as his eyes flicked over to you.

You sat still for a moment, trying to format the best way to word what you were about to say.

“Uh, kind of.” Everyone gawked. Did you really just testify to the fact that there was something wrong with Steve, king of the school??

“I mean no,” you quickly added, covering up your mistake, although by now Steve was amused while watching, enjoying watching you, some random girl he didn’t even know, get so flustered over the topic of him.

“What I mean to say is…” you watched Steve out of the corner of your eye. “My mom won’t allow me to have any boys over. Ever,” you fibbed. Ay, what was the harm in a little white lie, anyways?

“So obviously Steve is a male,” you said with a smirk, the class nervously laughed as you said that. Immature hormonal kids. Kelly mentally face palmed at some of the implications that statement alone made.

“And my mom would never allow him in the house. So uh, how would we ever get the project done? I need a female partner,” you explained to your teacher.

He nodded, a firm line pressed across his lips, slightly frustrated at the inconvenience of hafting to switch up partners this late into the planning of this project.

“Wait, hold on a sec.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Oh no, no. You were so close! So close to convincing the teacher to put you with someone else!

Steve was sitting up straighter in his seat now, a hand up, “hold on a sec,” he repeated.

“I don’t see why…” hey looked at you. “Um..name?” He asked, brow furrowed slightly.

You flushed bright red, wanting to roll your eyes at how embarrassed you were getting. You weren’t a shy person by any means, but having this whole exchange in front of the entire class wouldn’t have been fun for even the widest open book.

“Y/n,” Kelly spoke up for you, seeing as you were not going to supply your name on your own.

Steve snapped his fingers, “Y/n! Thank you…” he trailed off, seeming still mostly unfazed as he realized he didn’t know Kelly’s name either.

“I don’t see why nobody else can see that there is an obvious and simple solution to this. If y/n’s mom won’t let me come over, then that's fine. Y/n can just come over to my place instead!”

Now why, why in gods name would he say that? You thought to yourself. It was almost like he knew that he drove you mad, and he was just enjoying teasing you, stringing you along, while the whole time knowing that you were no match for him. Or was it actually the other way around? I mean, why were you so worried over him anyways? If anything you were the desirable one. Sure, you weren’t popular, but Steve was a jerk.

It didn’t matter. Either way you were a sucker for him, and he seemed to be abusing that knowledge. Knowledge? Now where the hell did that come from? Seriously, how had Steve even figured out you liked him? Did he even know? Or was he really just so lame that...ugh fuck. You felt like your brain was about to short circuit, finally blow out after running on high, when

“Ms. L/n? Would that work for you? Doing the project both here at school and also at Mr. Harrington’s house?”

You looked at Steve. He smirked. He knew you liked him, he knew, that bastard-

You looked at Kelly. She raised an eyebrow, basically giving her approval and saying, why not amigo?

You sighed, “Alright.”

Your teacher smiled, “Peachy.”

You turned to look at Steve one more time, and to your dismay and stomach butterfly syndrome, he was watching your carefully. He was fiddling with his pencil absentmindedly, but he was smiling. No, not smiling. Smirking.

You turned back around in your seat, slightly shivering. Oh god were you excited to go to his house. You corrected yourself, no actually, how much you were dreading going to his house. You finally just gulped down some more ice water, rolling your eyes at yourself, and decided that it was okay to be feeling two things at once. It was okay to view your crush on Harrington as both a joy and a crime. Your chances of getting him as your lab partner both a blessing and a curse. Who knows? Maybe Harrington was a bit of a multi-sided di himself. Prickly on the outside, sweet on the inside. You took another sip of water, laughing at yourself inside, Harrington? Sweet? What wishful thinking. If only, you thought.

If only there was some world where Steve was a nice guy, maybe worked at an ice cream shop, or was a pizza delivery guy, and maybe he’d babysit kids or whatever. If only. In the meantime, you had the douche bag to deal with. Word Count: 1668

[after-witch]

smiling man related passages from ‘Dark Waters’

So I initially sort of wrote off Dark Waters, the third Small Spaces book, because there are no actual Smiling Man scenes. But I reread it over the past week or so, and I think I’m giving it a bad shake. I still massively disagree with a specific decision the author made, but enough characters think and talk about the Smiling Man that you can glean a lot from it. 

Some of my favorite passages (spoilers ahead)

Also this book confirms that the Smiling Man has fancy handwriting, so, bless him.

one:  “A narrow face, sharp-nosed and big-eyed, with a wide grin. A grin that could look friendly or terrifying, or amused, or kind. Fair hair falling over the forehead. The smiling man...”

I’ve said it before, but the guise that the Smiling man takes in book #1 is so calculated and charming. Fair hair!! Pond-water eyes! Hot damn. 

two: “... to lure some essence of the smiling man, laughing and charming, mean and old, onto their boat with them.”

Plays with the element of the Smiling Man being hundreds of years old, at least. He can be so many things at once. 

three: “It was so, so easy to trust the smiling man.”

He’s really good at making people--not just children, but adults as well--trust him. Believe in him. Even when you seem to know that there is something wrong, you can’t help but want to be lured in by his words. 

 four: “’It winked at me,’ whispered Coco.”

Smiling Man pulling some Pennywise shit, you have to love it.

five: “He always keeps his promises.” 

I love the implications in the notion of a Faustian-devil type character who always keeps his promises. Good promises, bad promises... both are equally sanctified. 

six: “Why do you think I even talked to--to your smiling man, let him give me his stupid fishing lure? Because he was nice to me. He believed me. Not just some stupid ‘I believe that you believe’ thing, like the shrink. He actually believed me. He listened to me.” 

Again, an element of cruelty in his behavior... he can be kind and generous, or seemingly so. Listening to a kid who everyone thinks is crazy and making him feel listened to for the first time in months, only to turn out to be using that kid in order to try to trap and/or murder some children. Oh, and the fact that Phil is one of the kids that the Smiling Man had turned into a scarecrow and was planning to kidnap forever to use as his servant until his soul withered into nothing makes it even more fucked up. I can just see him putting on airs of sympathy, acknowledging this poor kid’s trauma, making him feel seen--and it’s all a show for the Smiling Man to get what he wants out of it.

seven: SWIRLING FANCY HANDWRITING. 

He’s got swirling fancy handwriting. I bet he likes quill and ink pens. Also I love this descriptor--”glitteringly hopeful.” One thing I appreciate about Arden is that it doesn’t feel like a Goosebumps-style book with, well, less then stellar writing. She’s got some really nice prose. 

on the decision I disagree with: I absolutely think Arden should have given us the scene between Ollie and the Smiling Man making her bargain to save her father at the expense of herself. Instead, she has Ollie do it “off page,” and we only find out at the very end through her leaving a note and the kids receiving the message from the Smiling Man.

And I get why--she wanted to make it a surprise, a twist, etc. But... That’s THE scene that has been building up since the first book, the moment when the Smiling Man “gets” Ollie, which he wanted to do since she turned down his initial deal in book 1. Maybe Book 4 will offer a flashback, idk. But I think it’s a shame because it would have been such a horribly sad, frustrating scene--to see Ollie have to give up, while bargaining for some type of potential rescue from her friends, even if the Smiling Man will be sure that it won’t happen, combined with what I’m sure would have been a gloating triumph from the Smiling Man himself.

Arden says book 4 has a lot more Smiling Man than the other books, so I’m sure we will get quite a bit, but I do wish book 3 had found a way to incorporate that scene into the story. i would have really liked to find out exactly how both Ollie and the Smiling Man react to his fresh win. 

[javajunkieao3]

Never Have I Ever: Post-Series Fic

Ben Gross prided himself on being smart.  And falling in love with Devi Vishwakumar?  Well, that was just about the dumbest thing he could do.

           But, it happened anyway.

           He didn’t exactly know when, but somewhere between first grade and watching her dance with that tool, Paxton Hall-Yoshida, she had gone from the person he always wanted to beat to someone he genuinely hoped would win.  Because she deserved that.  After everything she went through with her dad and then everything after, she deserved a win.

           But, did that win have to be him?

           “Of course, it’s him,” Ben said, voice colored with defeat and just a hint of indignation.  He still hated losing.  Even if he technically wasn’t in this game.  Aneesa was waiting for him over by the punch.  “It’s always been him.”  

           Beside him, Eleanor said, “What?  No, it hasn’t.  After you took her to Malibu, she wanted to choose you.”

           Ben listened incredulously as Eleanor explained how she and Fabiana had talked Devi out of choosing him.  It was fucked up, and he was going to tell her as much, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Devi, imagining how different things would have been. It would have been him with her, not that glorified meat puppet.

           “So, just for the record, it hasn’t always been him.”

           Eleanor walked off after dropping her figurative bomb and he stayed rooted in place, not knowing what to do or think next.  He wasn’t used to this level of indecisiveness and he probably would have just stayed there, staring at Devi dance with another guy, if Aneesa hadn’t come over, sliding her hand over his shoulder.

           “Hey, I thought you were meeting me over by the punch,” she said, glancing over at where he had just been staring.  “Oh wow, good for Devi.”

           Aneesa looked up at Ben, noting the tense set of his jaw.  “But…you don’t think that.”

           “What?” he said immediately, finally looking away from the slow train wreck happening across the dance floor.  “I don’t care about them.  I mean, he’s a tool who, based on what I’ve seen, can barely read above an eighth grade level.  But, I don’t care.”

           “Uh, yeah, you do.”

           “Aneesa-“

           “Ben, I saw the way you were looking at them. At her.”

           He went to argue, but then realized he had no defense.  Aneesa ducked her chin to her chest.

           “Okay.  So, I guess I’m going to go now.”  She turned to leave, but then stopped, turning back.  “Don’t mess this up for her?”

           He didn’t know what he hated more, the implication that he would mess things up or the fact that Aneesa was maybe a little right. The song ended and he watched Paxton and Devi kiss before Paxton dipped his mouth to her ear.  Devi nodded at whatever he said, and then Paxton walked away, not letting go of her hand until the distance made it necessary.  Devi’s grin widened and Ben hated Paxton even more.

           Devi stood alone on the dance floor for a moment, seeming blissfully content, and then she caught his gaze.  Ben noticed that her grin dimmed slightly and then she walked over, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

           “Look, I know what you’re going to say,” she began.

           “No, actually, you don’t.”

           She widened her eyes slightly.  “Okay.  Then, what are you going to say?”

           I know you wanted to choose me.

           “I’m happy for you, Devi.”

           It wasn’t what she expected, and not what he wanted, so they both felt out of sorts.  But then her shoulders slackened, a genuine smile spreading on her face, and Ben knew he did the right thing.  Because she deserved the win.  Even if it wasn’t him.

           “Thanks, Ben.”

           Paxton came over with two glasses of punch and handed Devi one, his now free arm going around her waist.  He gave Ben a lukewarm hello which, given their history, wasn’t entirely unfounded.

           “Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Devi said.

           “See you around, David.”

           Paxton looked at him strangely, but Devi only smiled wider.

-----

           There were only a few weeks left in the school year after the dance, and Ben did his best to keep his distance from Devi.  She hovered a bit after learning about his and Aneesa’s breakup, but then they all got busy with finals and then the schoolyear ended.  Ben was grateful for the time apart.  He didn’t know how long it took to fall out of love with someone, but he figured summer break’s three Devi-free-months should do the trick.

           That summer, he lined up a volunteer program to pad his college applications just like every other summer.  He was supposed to help out with pro bono work at his dad’s firm, but at the last minute his dad hired a law clerk instead so that he could bill out his time at a markup.  So, he was stuck with a retirement home.  Everyone volunteered at retirement homes, which meant it was the last thing Ben wanted to put on his resume.  But, there was nothing else left and it was better than nothing, so he grudgingly accepted a spot at one about fifteen minutes from his house and prepared himself for a summer of moth balls and stories about “the war”.

           Instead, he got Devi.

           “I thought you were working at your dad’s firm this summer,” Devi said.

           “Something came up.  Weren’t you supposed to do Habitat for Humanity?”

           Devi nodded.  “I had an incident with a hammer.  Apparently, you aren’t supposed to bedazzle it.”

           Ben smirked.  “You bedazzled your hammer?”

           “Oh, yeah.  I added feathers, too.  Honestly, it was an upgrade.”

           “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to take you,” he mocked.

           Devi shrugged.  “Probably for the best.  I mean, would you want a house built by me?”

           “You make a fair point.”

           “So, here we are,” Devi said.  “Slumming it at the retirement home.”

           “You may want to say that a little louder.  I don’t think the guy in the back with the hearing aid heard you.”

           “But, you know what, if anyone can make the best out this, it’s you and me, Gross.”

           She flashed him a smile and he felt it all the way down to his toes.  This was going to be a long three months.

----

           It turned out, Ben was surprisingly adept at being around old people, and Devi was an immediate crowd pleaser.

           “Even Marvin likes me,” Devi said.  “And I’m pretty sure he’s a low-key racist.”

           “Not that low key.  He specifically asked me to help him fill out a banking form yesterday because, as he put it, your people are good at that.”

           “Damn.  Remind me to not give him an extra pudding cup.”

           One of the long-time residents, Gladys, rolled by with her walker and said, “Benjamin, don’t forget my granddaughter is visiting this afternoon.  I told her all about you.”

           “I won’t forget, Gladys.”

           “Look at you, Benjamin.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Using the residents to get a date.  Honestly, it’s sort of genius.  If I wasn’t dating Paxton, I would totally use these guys to pimp myself out.”

           “Slow down, David.  Gladys came to me about her granddaughter.  I’m not that desperate.  I have options.”

           “Sure, you do, Ben.”

           “But, um, you and Paxton?  That’s going well?”

           He didn’t know why he asked.  You don’t ask the girl you’re in love with how her relationship is going, but he asked, and now he had no choice but to hear the answer.

           “Yeah, it is,” Devi said.  She tucked her hair behind her ears as she smiled, and Ben wished he could sink directly down into the ground.

           “That’s great.”

           “Yeah.  It is.”

           That afternoon, he asked Gladys’ granddaughter out on a date.

----

           Ben could always tell when Devi and Paxton were fighting by her mood.  She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and while in a relationship, that hadn’t changed.  He noticed it a few weeks in.  She went back into the employees’ area and shoved her bag forcefully into the cubby hole.

           “Did the cubby hole do something to you?” he asked.

           “No,” she said stubbornly.  “The cubby hole is doing nothing.  Which is the problem.  The cubby hole just sits there playing video games all day.  Which, sure, I can play some Mario Kart here and there.  I’m a team player.  But, at a certain point, enough with the stupid video games.  I am not dating freaking Yoshi!”

           Ben was quiet for a moment and then said, “I didn’t know a cubby hole had apposable thumbs to play video games.”

           She shot him a look, but then couldn’t help but laugh.

           “The cubby hole was a metaphor.”

           “Yeah, I caught on to that.”

----

           Ben found it remarkably easy to be around her, even as his feelings stayed rooted to the core, and at a certain point he became resigned to it all.  Maybe Devi was just one of those people he would always have feelings for.  Isn’t that what they said about your first love?  You could move on, but you never really forgot it.  So, he would love her and just move on.

           He dated Gladys’ granddaughter, enjoying himself but never really feeling anything beneath surface level.  But, she was nice enough, and Gladys was delighted by the pairing, even as the volunteer coordinator was not.

           “Just don’t have sex anywhere on property,” she had said in a huff.

           “I, uh, won’t.  Thanks for the clarification.”

           He was dating someone else.  He and Devi were finally sort of back to how they were before.  And then he accidentally ate pecans.

           “Oh my God, Ben, your mouth is getting huge,” Devi said, eyes wide with concern.

           “I am so sorry,” Gladys’ granddaughter said. “I thought the muffin was banana-walnut, not banana-pecan.”

           “Do you have an Epi-Pen or something?”  Devi barked at the terrified looking volunteer coordinator.

           “No, and even if we did, I don’t think we can technically use it on a non-resident.”

           “Are you freaking kidding me right now?  Do you see him?”  She pointed at Ben, whose face was rapidly growing in size.  “You know what, I’ll just handle it myself.”

           Devi dragged him out to her car, which was concerning since he knew she only just got her license the week before, and he also knew based on what she told him that her passing was a total fluke.  

           “I think I’d rather go into anaphylactic shock in there,” he said, already turning back toward the retirement home.

           “Don’t be dumb, Ben,” she said, forcefully pulling him back to the car.  “You are not going into anaphylactic shock.  I’ll take you to my mom’s office and she can give you a shot or something. She’s only a few minutes away.”

           He reluctantly got into the car, and Devi started her car, forgetting to put it into reverse before she pressed on the gas. The car lurched forward, nearly hitting the one parked in front of them, and Ben said, “Please don’t let me die in this car.”

           “No one is dying today, Ben Gross.  So, calm down, okay?  I got this.”

           It was not exactly a smooth ride, but true to her word, five minutes later they pulled into a parking spot in front of Dr. Vishwakumar’s office.  They burst into the office, Ben now leaning a bit on Devi as it became harder to breath.

           “I’m pretty sure I’m going into anaphylactic shock,” he gasped.

           “No, you are not.  You are fine.”  Devi’s words were calm, but her tone was not.

           Nalini Vishwakumar walked out of her office and stopped short when she saw Devi and Ben.

           “What in the world – Benjamin, what happened to your face?”

           “He ate pecans which, turns out, he’s also allergic to,” Devi said quickly.  “Can you give him a shot or something?”

           “Devi, you should have taken him to the emergency room!” Nalini said, rushing over to her daughter and Ben and bringing them back to an examination room.

           “The hospital was farther away.”

           Ben became to gasp for breath and Nalini hissed, “He’s going into anaphylactic shock.”

           Ben could barely breathe, but he managed a, “Told you.”

           “Well, how was I supposed to know!”  Devi said loudly.

           One shot of epinephrine and an IV full of antihistamines and cortisone later, Ben could breathe again, but Nilani made him stay for a while longer so that she could observe him.  She put he and Devi in one of the unused examination rooms, and told them to let her know if he had any more trouble breathing.  Devi sat next to him, her knees pulled tight into her chest.

           “I’m sorry that I almost killed you.”

           “You’re not getting valedictorian that easily.”

           He was joking because, yeah, his throat had almost closed up and she probably should have taken him to the hospital and not her mom’s office, but it was fine now.  Except, when he looked over at Devi, she still looked scared.  After a beat, she launched herself toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.  

           “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back.  “I’m okay.”

           She pulled away and gave his arm a light punch. “You really scared me.”

           “Yeah, well, next time I’ll double check my banana-walnut muffin actually has walnuts.”

           “And I’ll believe you when you say your throat is closing up.”

           Devi’s phone rang and he saw Paxton’s name flash on the screen.  He asked her, “Do you need to get that?”

           He watched her hesitate before sending it to voicemail.

----

           Devi and Paxton broke up a week later.  He found out from one of the retirement home residents, who he overheard telling Devi, “You’re better off, Devi.  Take it from an old woman.  You have the rest of your life to be with one person.  Now is the time to be free.  Sow your wild oats, if you will.”

           “Um, I don’t really know what that last part means, but I feel you.  I mean, I’m too young and hot to be tied down, right?”

           “Exactly.  You know, I have a grandson you might be interested in.  He’s pre-med.”

           “I appreciate the offer, Beatrice.  And offering me your grandson after I just broke up with my boyfriend?  Savage. But, I think I need to take some time by myself.”

           That afternoon during bingo, Ben casually brought up the breakup after calling out B-27.

           “Are you okay?” he asked.

           “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.  She ran the machine and picked out the next ball.  “B-13!”  She put the ball down and said in a regular volume voice, “We just didn’t have that much in common.”

           “Yeah, I bet,” Ben said automatically.

           “Wow, okay,” Devi said with a laugh that didn’t exactly sound reassuring.

           “I didn’t mean,..” he trailed off, because he kind of did.  “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.”  He paused and picked up the next ball.  “N-7!”

           “Bingo!”

----

           Summer was coming to a close, and so was their time at the retirement home.  For some reason, Ben felt an impending sense of dread.  Sure, he would still see Devi, but it would be different.  Everyone else would be added back to the mix, including Paxton.  

           Their last big event at the retirement home was a movie night.  They set up a projector in one of the recreation rooms and made it up like an old theater, complete with velvet ropes and individual little bags of popcorn. They even wore old-timey usher costumes they rented from a local costume shop.

           “Does yours also smell like nachos?”  Devi asked.

           “Yeah.  I’m trying not to think about it.”

           The movie was It Happened One Night, and Devi and Ben sat in the back, watching the movie along with the residents.  It was secretly one of Ben’s favorites.  He and his mom had spent little time together when he was growing up, but she shared with him her love of old movies.

           It was the Jericho scene, where Clark Gable’s character was setting up a sheet between him and Claudette Colbert in their motel room.  He stripped down to just his undershirt, and Devi mused, “Clark Gable was super bangable.”

           “Shh,” Ben said.  “This is my favorite part.”

           Devi looked over at him and grinned.  Feeling her gaze, he glanced over and felt his breath stop when their eyes met.  They were close, and in the darkness her eyes seemed to glow.  He always thought she had pretty eyes.  Even before, when he hated her more times than he liked her. He felt an urge to lean forward. It would be so easy.  Just the slightest lean and his mouth would be against hers.  But, that would just be a kiss in the back of a dark room.  He wanted more.

           “Eleanor told me that you wanted to choose me after Malibu.”

           She blinked rapidly.  “What?”

           “After you scattered your dad’s ashes.  She said you wanted to choose me, but they made you also consider Paxton.”

           “Okay.”

           “Is that true?”

           Devi didn’t answer, so he kept talking.

           “And she said that you started the rumor about Aneesa because you thought that we were dating and you were jealous.  And, you see, I’ve had it in my mind all this time that it was always Paxton.  And that I was, I don’t know, some detour on the way, but-“

           “You were not a detour,” Devi said immediately. “You were…you were perfect.  And I messed us up.”

           “So, Eleanor was telling the truth?”

           Devi nodded.  “Yeah, she was.”

           Ben took a deep breath.  “Devi.  I’m going to kiss you now.”

           She nodded, all business, but he could hear the nerves in her voice when she said, “Okay.  Thank you for the advanced warning.”

           He leaned in and captured her mouth with his.  The kiss was sweet and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.  And in a way, they did.  There was a noise behind them, and they pulled apart abruptly.  Their supervisor stood over them and said, "Remember what I said about no sex on property?"

"Are you kidding me right now?"  Devi said.  "Who is having sex in these gross costumes?"

"You'd be surprised."

The supervisor walked away, and Devi looked at Ben.  "You don't think she meant..."

"I think she absolutely did."

"I need to take this off immediately."

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 10: Obvious

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: new stuff soon, <3

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The trio moved the remaining few things you owned and then setup your new space. Then you setup a few lights in the hall so that it wouldn’t feel like such an unwelcoming space. You decided that you might try your hand at decorating if you wound up stuck there for longer than a few weeks. You were trying very hard to be positive. The next few days, while resting, you would clean up the adjacent rooms and washroom. That would help keep you busy and keep your mind off of the inevitable end that seemed to be creeping ever closer.

You sat on the floor, looking over a list of hospitals in Andong while pouring over maps. Together you charted places to stay while you were there and places of note. You couldn’t recall where your parents had lived but you remembered the hospital the moment that you’d seen the name. Keimyung University Dongsan Hospital.

The search for your truth, whatever that meant, would start there. You couldn’t prove you existed anymore. All of your important papers and identification had been lost in the fire. You were sure that the Chinese government had record of your existence but that wasn’t what you’d needed. You hadn’t minded losing all of that at first. You hadn’t thought about it that hard. You’d found a new purpose and a new identity in Raiden’s Temple with your friends. They��d become your found family.

But there were times, like now, where it made you sad. You’d worked hard for the life you’d built and there were times where you missed your remaining family. You’d never been close and the relationships had been incredibly toxic, but you also still loved them. It would have been so much easier to track this stuff down if you could stop by your sister’s and ask your father. You were estranged but he would have still given you the information. If it came down to that, Liu Kang had said he was willing to speak to them under the guise of a story on the town and the history of the dojo. That would have been awkward too, so you hoped it didn’t come to that.

“I’ll start moving my things over tomorrow. I’m sore.” Kung Lao yawned. He’d opted to take a room that was on the floor above yours.

“If you had just waited to move furniture like a normal person…” Liu Kang scolded, going over the maps again and charting out a course in the notebook he’d been using.

“Today has been exceptionally long. You don’t know that is the reason I’m sore.”

“He’s got a point.” You didn’t look up from the map. “Sure you won’t change your mind? You can just stay in your room. I’m really okay here by myself.” You didn’t want them to isolate themselves. They were important people in Raiden’s Temple. You were the only one causing problems so there was no reason for you all to be isolated.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.” Kung Lao pouted. “Do you not want me to stay?”

“It’s not that. I think it’s really sweet but you’re…” You wanted to say he was more important than you were but you knew both he and Liu would react poorly to that information. “I just think it’s silly for all of us to be isolated when I’m the only one impaling people with ink.”

“And what happens if you’re here alone and you summon something you can’t handle?” Kung Lao frowned. You couldn’t argue with him that there wasn’t a chance of that happening seeing as it had happened many, many times now. “You almost killed yourself today with your arcana.”

“I know that I just… I don’t…”

“Don’t argue with him, Y/N. It’s pointless.” Liu Kang was still writing in the notebook and you sighed. They were right. Arguing with them was pointless.

“I guess the only choice you have is to get better.” Kung Lao beamed and wrapped an arm around you in a hug. You winced and he relaxed his grip on you. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You mean well, I guess.” You threw another glance at Liu Kang and picked up his hand as he tapped the paper with the pen. He was covered in small scrapes. “You never took care of this.”

“I forgot.”

“Can I?” You could feel Kung Lao rolling his eyes. “What?”

“I would have left mine too if it meant you were going to take care of it.” Kung Lao let you go and hopped up to his feet. “I’m going to get some rest. I really am sore. But I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N and we’ll get this placed cleaned up in no time.”

“Thanks, Kung Lao.” You felt your cheeks hot at the implication. Kung Lao narrowed his eyes at Liu Kang before he left the room. You could hear his footsteps echoing down the hall.

“…I didn’t leave it because of that.”

“Uh-huh.” You let go of his hand and he tried to hide his smile.

“I wasn’t willing to leave while you were unconscious. That’s all. Kung Lao was bloodier than I was. He needed stitches.”

“Yeah.” You looked down at the maps and felt the guilt rattle you again. “Can I help?”

“I’m fine, Y/N.”

“That didn’t answer my question.” You wanted to help. Even something as small as cleaning a few scrapes would make you feel a little better. Paying a penance for the things beyond your control would help ease your guilt, you hoped.

“Yeah, you can. If you’re that worriedabout me.” He looked to you purposely as he said the word.

“Oh, we’re playing that game, are we? Mr. I’ve-been-radiating worry-literally-all-day.”

“Feel like my worry is more justified than yours.” Liu folded up the map and placed it aside with the notebook and pen. You picked up the first aid kit that you’d shoved beneath your desk for the time being. Liu was setting his shirt aside and you averted your gaze quickly. Why? Well, habit, you supposed. Thankfully most of the scrapes were on his arms. There were a handful on his face and another on his neck. Why he’d taken his shirt off? You were now uncertain.

You would literally never complain that Liu Kang went around without his shirt. It was very distracting though. You picked up his hand and urged it to rest on your knee while you wiped away the blood, soot, and dirt that stained his skin. He didn’t even budge as you cleaned the small scrapes on his left arm. But he did watch you, which was also very distracting. Liu Kang had a way of taking you in and you shivered beneath his stare.

He pushed your hair back behind your ear and his hand engulfed your cheek and turned you to him. Warm Liu Kang and his careful touch. There were rivers behind his eyes of things he wanted to say but he said none of them. You leaned into his hand and then turned back to your work. He rested his other hand on his knee and waited patiently.

When you switched arms, he shifted and cleared his throat. You threw your gaze back to him and caught his dark eyes full of admiration before turning back to his wounds.

“How are you handling this?”

“Oh, I’m not.” You offered his hand a squeeze. “Turned my brain off. I have completely detached.”

“Y/N…” He was surprised and grabbed your hand to stop you, worry thick in his voice and his gaze. You offered him a smile and he sighed in frustration. “Sometimes your sense of humor worries me.”

“I know.” You held his hand. “I worry me too sometimes but I… joking about it helps me cope. Otherwise I’d just be scared. Laughing makes me feel less scared. I’m…” You shivered and his hand brushed over your arm. “I’m scared.” You hated saying it. Up until now you’d refused to admit it but the more that you thought about it the more hopeless it seemed.

“I’m scared too.” Liu’s hand crept over the hanfu you’d changed into for the night. Then he let you go and leaned against your bed. You scooted next to him. “I’m with Kung Lao on this one. I don’t think you should be alone here. I’ll be moving my things closer tomorrow.”

“Liu…” You knew that they wouldn’t listen. Why were you arguing? You wanted them to listen. “I know you guys are worried and that you feel guilty that I’m here alone but I volunteered for this. It was my idea. I know it’s dangerous but… not hurting anyone anymore also meant not hurting you.” You turned to face him and rested your hand on his cheek. He placed his hand over yours and then urged his lips to your palm, never taking his eyes away from yours. Your stomach tightened into knots. Why was it that when he looked at you, you felt naked? Like he could see you as vulnerable as you often felt? “Look at you.”

“I know you feel guilty.” He pulled your hand away from his lips and held it in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles, prayer beads between both your hands. “I can’t spare you from that as much as I wish to. But I made my choice. Kung Lao warned me what would happen if I did.”

“You just… jumped right through it to get to me.” You furrowed your brow as you felt the burning behind your eyes, hot with emotion. You hated crying. You hated it. Don’t do it. “You’re a fool sometimes, Liu Kang.”

“Call it what you will. I couldn’t leave you in there all alone. At least I thought of the rug, right?” He tried to lighten the mood but it was too heavy to accomplish. “He would have killed you. Bi-Han. Raiden told me a bit about him. There are murals you should see. But I… I had to get to you. I’m not sorry for that.”

“I know you’re not. And I’m grateful that you did. I was terrified. Too weak to fight and he…” You closed your eyes and focused on breathing. You’d felt so damn helpless. You hadn’t felt helpless since you were a kid and you hated it. There was no closet to hide in here to cry it out. Nowhere to hide from Liu Kang. “I hurt you. Again. And Kung Lao.”

“It wasn’t you, Y/N. You were hurt too.” He brushed his fingers over the sore marks on your arm from the ice beneath the sleeves of your hanfu. You nodded but you felt responsible for all of it even if you’d had no control over it. You felt responsible for not having control. Liu Kang had gotten you to talk about it, something you hadn’t wanted to do. It was easier to cry alone and then fake okay until you felt okay. You didn’t want any pity. Liu Kang didn’t think you were pitiful. He was worried about you. He let go of your hand then brushed his fingers over your cheek, just beneath your eye and you knew he was wiping away tears that had, regretfully, fought their way free.

“Ugh.” You whined and leaned back, sniffled, and then wiped your eyes free of the blurry tears so no more of them would rebelliously fall down your cheeks. “I hate this.”

“This feels like a much healthier emotional response, at least.” He teased and you laughed and then shoved his shoulder lightly. He pretended you pushed him much harder and then scooted closer to you.

“I don’t like crying.”

“No one likes crying, Y/N.”

“Fair point.” You stuttered and then closed your eyes. “Will you sit still so I can finish?”

“I’m fine.” He laughed and took your hand as you made to wipe one of the scrapes on his face. “I’m fine, Y/N. I’m tougher than you think.”

“So am I, Liu.” You didn’t have the strength to back that up anymore, but you still meant it.

“I know.” His fingers brushed over your jaw and beneath your chin, tilting you to look back up at him. You were powerless to deny him. He smelled of soot and blood. “I made a choice to protect you. I won’t lose you.” He crept ever close to your lips and you admired his as they came close. There was a cut on his lower lip you hadn’t noticed, the red of the wound having melded into the red of his lips. He was attractive even wounded. It would have even been sexy if you hadn’t been the one to hurt him. “Don’t give up.”

“I’m not.” You assured him but your voice felt weak. Was it because of everything that had happened or because Liu Kang was holding you so close, so intimately? “I am being realistic though, Liu. This is the right place to be. I won’t forgive myself if I…” You didn’t want to lose him. You didn’t want to lose him or Kung Lao.

“And I won’t forgive myself for not protecting you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about. I’m not the one who needs protecting.”

“That’s not the point I’m making, Y/N. I want to protect the people I care about. Not because I don’t think you’re capable but because you are precious to me. Have I not made that clear? How much I care about you? How much you mean to me?”

You shivered all over and closed your eyes, swearing that your heart had skipped a beat. He just went right out and said it. Dammit, he was romantic. The tension was so thick you swore that you struggled to breathe. Liu Kang created his own atmosphere. Then again, it could have just between the two of you. You liked that.

“I…” You struggled with words, as if the air were too thick for them. His lips were so close, bruised, and bloodied, but perfect. Would kissing him hurt him, you wondered? He seemed willing to feel pain at a chance at your lips. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat ever present being this close to him. His fingers pushed your hair back from your face and you leaned into his touch, the whole thing having become such a comfort. He’d done this so much that you craved it, like an addict.

His lips met yours and you felt that swelling in his lower lip and swore you broke. But he held you up. He kept the pieces of you in place. When you were falling apart, Liu Kang wasn’t afraid to pick you up. He wasn’t afraid of the mess you’d make. He didn’t criticize you for your feelings. He didn’t belittle you for your worries. But he supported you. He winced as you grasped at his forearm and you pulled back from that sweet kiss very suddenly.

“No.” He urged his lips back to yours and you laughed against them as he wrapped his arm around you before you could argue with him and pulled you right into his lap. You placed your hand on his cheek and he urged his knees up to urge you higher, tilting his head up right into that sweet, tender kiss.

“Your lip.” You muttered against it.

“It’s fine, Y/N, don’t… you dare stop kissing me because of that.”

“Wow, bossy.” You laughed as he placed his hand at the back of your neck as if to make a point. Pushing his hair back you shoved that worry from your mind. You sat sharing soft, intimate kisses in the dim lamplight of your new space. His lips tasted like the soot and blood he smelled like and it gave you the oddest thrill to memorize those new marks on his lips. Strong hands brushed over your arms and then down to your hips and you pulled back from that kiss, reluctantly. He looked in a daze, but a happy one. As if you’d woken him from a nap.

His thumb brushed over your hip, hands gently caressing over the outside of your thighs and back up again. Liu Kang was no longer nervous to touch you and his hands at your thighs were practically a death sentence.

“…you’re trying to get out of getting cleaned up.”

“It’s working.” He smiled up at you and pressed his lips to yours again and you returned that kiss for a second before pulling back.

“Boy, is it working.”

“The scrapes aren’t going anywhere.”

“I know.” You brushed his loose, messy hair from his face. “Let me take care of them?”

“Mmm…” He considered this and his hands returned to your waist. “Yes, of course, Y/N.” You took to tending to the scrape on his jaw, on his cheek, on his forehead. It was soothing. He closed his eyes and let you take care of him as if the motion were putting him to sleep. Then you finally set aside the first aid supplies and admired your handiwork. Liu Kang was only made more handsome by the scrapes on his face. How was that possible? Were you that wrapped around his finger? “How’s it look, doc?”

“I hate to say it, but incredibly attractive.” You sighed dreamily and he laughed and leaned his head up to give you a sleepy kiss.

“You made me tired.”

“I could tell.”

“It was nice to be cared for by you.”

“I care for you.” You weren’t good at saying what you felt but Liu Kang made you feel more confident about the lousy way you expressed yourself.

“Careful, Y/N. That might mean too much to me.”

You shivered from head to toe as his hand brushed over your back. Then he sat up sleepily and wrapped his arms around you. “I care about you, Liu.” You rested your hand on the side of his neck and closed your eyes. “More than you know.” He shivered beneath your touch.

“If I stayed tonight… would that be okay?”

You worried instantly what would happen if you had an incident during your dreams again.

“…what if…”

“I’m willing to take the risk.” Liu Kang didn’t seem as concerned about it as you thought he should be. His thumb brushed over your lower back and he left a soft, sleepy kiss on your shoulder. He must have been exhausted.

“Stay.” You relented far too easily. You wanted his arms around you forever. They felt safe and strong. Liu Kang lifted you up and then lazily rested you in bed before crawling in right after you.

“You okay to sleep in that?”

“Yeah.” You adjusted yourself in his arms. “It’s fine.”

“Seems like a lot.” He closed his eyes and urged you to rest with your back to him, tugging you close. Apparently, Liu Kang was fond of being the big spoon. You couldn’t argue. As his hands brushed over your stomach and you sunk into him you felt you could lay like this in his arms forever.

“Oh, really?”

“Could help with that…”

“Wow.” You laughed but even as he joked you could feel him falling asleep next to you. “We have a lot to talk about, you know.”

“I do. Too comfortable right now though. Thought we made good progress.”

“You’re falling asleep.” You whispered as he slurred against your shoulder, face buried in your hair. He made a positive sound and you let him rest. It would take you ages to sleep but feeling his heart beating against your back with his arms securely around you was the best end to this horrible day that you could have hoped for.