#and I’m not back in town this weekend because another event changed so i decided to not come back and just take this weekend

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

gonna get real into icarus iconography and decorations because oh baby am i flying too close to the sun

[wildechild17]

Mag 7 wip

something I'm working on as a side project for NaNo, decided I'd share a little (not really) excerpt here, just because i could

Sam Chisolm wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but as he stood in the sparsely decorated apartment in London, it wasn’t… this.

It was, in fact, sparse. There was a small kitchen, a couch with a pullout that looked slept in, a bathroom, and a tiny closet. It was by no means a luxury place, but it was just one level above being condemned, if you asked Sam.

The man’s heart broke a little as he took it in. There was no sign of the occupant he was looking for, not that he knew who he was looking for—his boss had simply given him this address and said the person who lived here would be a good addition to the team if Sam could convince them.

Given the fact of who the rest of the team was made up of, Sam had two guesses as to whose place he was standing in. Past experiences told him one was more likely than the other.

Something caught his eye, a leatherbound book sitting among the blankets on the pullout. Curious, Sam wandered over, reaching for the book. He flipped through it, noting it was some mix between a journal and a scrapbook. The first entry dated back to just over eleven years ago, and Sam couldn’t help but read.

9-29-12

I’ve always known my family had powers… how could I not, when mom uses hers to heal those in our family, and when both she and gran have told me about other members of our… bloodline? Apparently, the blood is important… and their abilities.

I just assumed, like everyone before me, that it skipped generations… Instead, I woke up this morning with my own abilities. Powers… magic? I like the idea of calling it magic. Who knows, I may have them sooner and didn’t realize it… Skipper had died during the night, and when mom and Aunt Elenore asked who I was greeting this morning because to them it was empty air… I told them Skip, and I was then informed he’d passed in his sleep, so how could I be seeing him?

One quick test later, my mom declared that a) I had magic, and b) it could be classified as necromancy. That’s… a terrifying, truthfully, prospect, but… I can handle it. I hope.

At least it’s the weekend before fall break, so mom can help me figure out how to start managing it. I’m in senior year, so it’s not like I’ll have to hide it from the others as school for long. If I go to college, I can get by with strictly online classes, I think.

Mom suggested I use a journal to track my progress, but I’ve never been the best at keeping records, even school wise. Hopefully with something to keep track of, that’ll change.

I’ll make another entry when something of importance happens, I guess.

10-10-12   10-9-12/10-10-12

What the fuck is my life, truly?

With the influx of my powers, came something else… my memories. I guess necromancy and reincarnation can go hand in hand, because this isn’t the first time I’ve lived. I started having dreams and flashbacks during break, of an older version of myself set back in the Wild West. I thought it was just some weird dream/fantasy thing since… well, since I’m sort of obsessed with that era, anyways, but… no. It all came rushing back to me, today, during fifth period, which is my study block this year.

We got a new student… which, in a small town like Salem, is kind of a cause for chatter, and I wasn’t really paying attention until the guy sat next to me. When I finally looked at him…

Son of a bitch… it’s Vasquez. It all came back to me—Sam Chisolm, Rose Creek, Bart Bogue…

I’m… sort of embarrassed to say that I had a total breakdown right then and there. Mom actually had to come and pick me up early, it was so bad. It’s super late (early?), right now, almost three in the morning, and I’ve been catatonic all afternoon, according to her. So, I guess all these events really happened yesterday?

I’m getting distracted… I told her what had happened, what’s been happening, and she… didn’t seem totally surprised. Fact is, she’s the one who gave me the idea that my reincarnation ties in with my powers. Something about death being involved, which… makes sense, in a weird way.

Mom offered to keep me out of school for the rest of the week, so I can recover, but… I don’t want to do that. Maybe a day or two, but not a week. I want to talk to Vas so I can Vasquez, so I can sort of explain things to him. Hopefully, it’ll go well…

10-13-12 Update: It… I didn’t explain the powers thing to him. I didn’t want to freak him out, but I did tell him why I had my breakdown on Monday. He understood, because when his memories came back to him, he was a wreck for a while too.

He came over for the afternoon, and mom and Aunt Elenore absolutely fell in love with him. Bastard put on the damn charm. We didn’t get any schoolwork done, not like we really planned to, but we did catch up on things. What’s been going on in our modern lives, and he told me a little about what happened after I died in Rose Creek… His family travels a lot in this life, for his dad’s work. He’s got two siblings, an older sister and younger brother. I couldn’t resist and had to make a crack about his ‘three Maria’s’… he asked where mine was.

… I told him Maria died when we were kids. He sobered up pretty quick… guess he could tell it was a sore subject.

Anyways… my magic practice is progressing well. Right now, I can just see spirits, which is weird because they look like just regular people—for the most part. I’ve seen a few grisly sights, but I’m learning how to pick their energies apart from the living, so I don’t make a fool of myself in public.

Oddly enough, Vasquez has a couple ghosts hanging around him…

Sam flipped through the journal, heart twisting in his chest as he noticed a few entries more prominent than others. One, over Christmas break, detailing why Vasquez had ghosts—his father was a hunter of the supernatural, and the revelation apparently caused a rift between the two boys before Vasquez’s father himself had put things to right. He’d put the hunting behind him and was trying to settle down with his family… he could have never expected his son to befriend a witch—which, that had led to Joshua admitting about himself…

Prom. They stopped dancing around their feelings for each other and became official, and that entry made Sam smile, as well as the photos of that night that accompanied the entry. They did make a handsome couple. That was where Vasquez’s writing started slipping in on a few pages, offering extra insight or his own commentary to whatever Joshua was writing.

Graduation. Maybe too quick to those who don’t know about… us, but Vasquez gave me a bloody promise ring tonight. (you’re not actually complaining, are you? Fuck you, I’m keeping it forever thought so) and detailing a rough plan of the future. Plans to stay in Salem long enough to get through college, before moving. Maybe they’d find where Rose Creek was, if it was somewhere they could move to, settle down there. Ideas about where the rest of their motley crew were…

College. Joshua went into Anthropology and the Occult (seriously, guero? Bite me, texican), and Vasquez Art and Architecture (you know there’s a joke about cliches in there somewhere, right? Don’t you dare). Joshua seemed to develop a minor side hobby (?) in helping people with their dead loved ones, the spirits who hadn’t crossed over because of unfinished business (Jennifer Love Hewitt, who?) When they’d both finished their studies… Joshua was the one who proposed.

There were photos of various moments, in those early years. High school included prom, graduation, senior trip, homecoming week. After high school showed moving into their first apartment together, as they worked through college, domestic moments, moments with their families, college graduation, of the proposal, and later, multiple photos from the wedding. Tickets to various date locations, movies, and festivals, were taped in as well. It seemed Joshua (and by some small extension, Vasquez) was eager to keep track of everything.

But just after their return from their honeymoon in August of twenty-fifteen, the entries stopped. The next one wasn’t dated until January of twenty-sixteen. Reading it, Sam felt his heart stop and blood run cold.

1-13-16 I’m sorry, Ale… I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t… couldn’t save you. If I was faster… maybe you’d still be here. Maybe I could have… God, I’m crazy for thinking it… brought you back. If you’d wanted it… if maybe I’d seen you… your spirit, at least, maybe one more time, to ask…

There are limitations to my abilities… I can bring people back from the dead, but only within a set time… I didn’t make it with you… And I’m so sorry.

You must have crossed over. That’s the only reason I can think of to not see your ghost… it’d be just like you, too… you wouldn’t have wanted me to see you like that. I know you wouldn’t have. I know, but… goddammit it still hurts, you son of a bitch. If I could have just said goodbye…

… you were gone too soon. And those bastards… they’ll pay. Eventually, they’ll pay.

I’m sorry.

I… did find where Rose Creek is. It’s still a small town but thriving in today’s age. I’ll… I’ll go there. For us… for you.

Maybe I’ll find some sort of peace there.

Silence, for a few months, before another entry was made.

5-23-16 God, what have I done? I didn’t… I wasn’t… I didn’t mean for that to happen… I didn’t know I could do that.

I need to get away. From everyone. Anyone that I can hurt…

I’m so sorry Vas…

After that, there were no more entries. Sam flipped through the remaining blank pages and found nothing. Frowning, Sam went back to the last entry, and wondered what the hell might have happened for it to exist.

Actually, he wondered what happened in those last two entries in general—one was obvious. The other… not so much. He’d have to ask Matthew to investigate the dates mentioned, give or take a day or two. Surely, there’d be some sort of record online, somewhere—

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

Sam startled, the book falling from his hands and back on to the bed. He whirled around, coming eye to eye with Joshua Faraday. The first thing the older man noticed was how tired the redhead looked, with bags beneath his eyes, and skin pale. He stood as though the weight of the world was laid on his shoulders, but it didn’t distract from the, frankly, intimidating glare he was fixing Sam with.

“I know I locked the door when I left,” Joshua continued, and then his gaze flicked down to the journal on the bed, and his anger grew. He stood straight, and Sam swore the room grew colder and darker as Joshua set a bag of possible groceries on the floor, “You went looking through my personal things?!”

“Now, hold on just a minute, son—” Sam began.

“I’m not your son,” Joshua hissed, and there was no doubt about it—Joshua was altering the space around them. His eyes were beginning to glow, a toxic green that caused the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck to rise, “What are you doing here, Chisolm?”

“I came to offer you a job,” Sam said, quickly, and Joshua drew up short. A brief look of bafflement crossed his features as he stared at the older man, “That is, if you want it.”

The redhead crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.

“Explain,” he said, shortly, so Sam did.

He explained how he’d been tasked with bringing a crew together (yes, the rest of the Rose Creek bunch, for the most part…) and that while Joshua’s name hadn’t come up directly, Sam’s own bosses had suggested Joshua could be an integral part of the team. This team would be dealing with threats across the world, both natural and supernatural. Clearly, Joshua would be a good addition, if he wanted to join.

“But… I’m not pressing you to,” Sam said, quietly. He glanced down at the journal, then back to Joshua, “You’ve clearly been through a lot already.”

Joshua’s expression darkened, lips thinning, but he said nothing. Just stared at Sam with those eyes of his still glowing. But he was silent, and Sam took it for a good thing.

“… would you have come for me, if I hadn’t been brought up?” Joshua asked.

Sam blinked at the question, but answered nonetheless: “Eventually, yes. It wouldn’t have been fair not to include you and—” he faltered, only because Joshua pinned him with a venomous glare, “We want everyone we can get. We worked so well together, before.”

Silence, again, and Sam could tell Joshua was right on the edge of accepting the offer, he just needed one last push.

“Who killed him?” Sam asked, pitching his own voice low—after all, someone had mess with those he cared about. He was angry thinking about it; Joshua startled, so Sam asked again, “Who did it? We can go after the sons of bitches with you.”

Joshua’s jaw clenched.

“Hunters,” he ground out. “Ones who didn’t approve of his relationship with… with me. I don’t… I don’t have exact names, though.”

“Then come with me,” Sam offered, holding out his hand. “Together, we’ll help you figure out who did it, and we’ll see them get what they deserve.”

Joshua looked down at Sam’s extended hand, before he looked up at the man himself. The temperature returned to normal, and the shadows fell away. The glow in the witch’s eyes faded, but they still burned with anger and determination…

Joshua took Sam’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Chisolm.”

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 3

Thanks for the love!  It’s insane to me how quickly this blew up!  And I’ve loved hearing theories by you guys! The show must go on, so let’s not wait any longer ;) 

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023.  The two bonded over the loss of their partners.  It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend.  Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Missed the first part?  Read it here! Need chapter 2?  Go down to the tags and click #Reality Check Masterlist ! 

Scott led you to a nearby park.  You never managed to get those guitar strings for Loki, so you hoped he had more at home that he didn’t know about.  You sat down on a bench with Scott, who looked around carefully, as if to ensure there were no wandering eyes.  Not a person was in sight, but you assumed that was because it was the middle of the weekend.  Everyone was at home, spending quality time with one another.  

“I don’t understand still.  What is it that you wanted to ask me?” You asked him, once he finally turned back to look at you. 

“Do you remember how you first got here?” 

“Well, yes, you pulled us outside of the store,” You laughed.  

“No-” He shifted in his seat, “-Do you remember when you first came to this town?” 

“Of course, I moved here with my husband when...” You drifted off.  “When we...” 

He looked at you expectantly.  “Do you remember?” 

You shook your head, almost upset with yourself for not remembering.  

“No, I don’t.”

---

“Wanda, what do you think you can do about it?” You asked your friend who was pacing around your shared apartment.  She had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and she was dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt.  It was clear she hadn’t been taking care of herself.  Some of the injuries she sustained during the final battle were still visible.  They complimented the dark circles under her eyes, showing you exactly how she felt on the inside.  

“Y/N, we have to go take him back.” She said, finally stopping in her tracks.

“You don’t even know what S.W.O.R.D is doing though!  Maybe they’re trying to extract important data from him.” 

“Or they’re trying to weaponize him.  Exactly what he didn’t want.” Her voice was stern, and she was trying to control her anger.  You knew she was right, but you wanted to believe it wasn’t true. 

“And you believe you could bust right in there, take his body, and get away with it?  Wanda, I know you’re hurting but this is absurd!” 

“You say it as if you wouldn’t do the same for Loki.” 

“Because I wouldn’t!” You hissed.  You stood up and walked over to the girl, whose eyes were starting to glow a dim red.  “Vis wouldn’t have wanted you to keep going after him like this.  He would want you to move on.” 

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.  Y/N, I know you understand this feeling.  You said it yourself, you nearly went after Loki in that timeline after he took the tesseract.” 

“But I didn’t.  The opportunity presented itself but I knew deep down that I couldn’t do it.  This is our reality.  Our universe.  Our timeline.  My Loki is gone.  I can’t do anything about it.” 

“But what if we could?” She asked, zoning out rather quickly.  Wanda was no longer looking at you, but rather looking out into the open as if there was an opportunity that presented itself. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked nervously.  

“There’s nothing grounding us right now, Y/N.  Everyone is out there, partying, celebrating, having fun with their loved ones.  We don’t get to have that.  Not in the same sense at least.  But with my powers-” 

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.” 

“We deserve happiness.  Even if it’s only temporary.” 

“You’ll trap yourself in there.  It’ll be your dream world and you’ll never want to leave.  I know you, Wanda.  You can’t do this.” 

“Can’t I?” She stormed out of the room before you could say anything more.  You wanted to run after her, but maybe some space was what she needed. 

You regretted that decision three days later. 

--

“Neither do I,” He said, breaking you out of your trance.  He sighed dejectedly.  “You’re the first person I’ve had a chance to ask about this.  Anyone else runs away to do something else before I have the opportunity.” 

“What are you trying to say?  This is a perfectly normal neighborhood.” 

“I’m trying to say it’s the exact opposite of that, Y/N.  There is nothing normal about this town.  Nothing.  How did you get here?  Why did you come here?  Doesn’t it feel like everything is dull?  Colorless?” 

“Why would it be anything other than normal, Scott?  Are you trying to say magic is real or someone has this whole town hypnotized or something?  It’s madness!” You exclaimed.  “And if you believe that so much then why don’t you just leave?” 

“That’s the thing, I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

“I mean there’s no way out of this town.  If you want me to leave, you first.  I’ll follow your lead.  But you’ll understand what I mean as soon as you get to the border.  It seems like it just goes on and on and you never reach the sign that says you’re leaving Westview.  There’s no way out.” 

You stood up from the bench quickly, like a lightbulb finally lit up in your head.  You shook your head and turned to leave.  “I don’t know what you want me to do here.  I’m happy with my life.  You just sound insane.  No wonder everyone tries to avoid you.  I have to get to the talent show.  My husband needs me.”  

“Then go to him, but mark my words Y/N.  Something is wrong.” 

---

“Loki, I’m so sorry!  I got caught up with someone at the store!” You gave him an apologetic smile.  He was standing behind the stage, tuning the guitar once more before he went on.  He smiled back at you when he saw you walking up. 

“It’s quite alright, love.  I’m just happy you’ll get to see me perform.  I think you’ll love the song I have picked out.  It’s one you haven’t heard from me yet.” 

“You mean I haven’t heard this one a dozen times this morning already?” 

“Not at all,” He grinned.  

“Well, I’m looking forward to it.  Break a leg, hon.” You kissed his cheek as a woman motioned for him to go up on stage.  She had her hair up and she carried a clipboard with her.  You realized you didn’t know her, so you walked over to her as you watched Loki.  

He introduced himself and began playing a song.  “Hey Good Lookin’” to be specific.  You laughed lightly as he glanced over to the end of the stage, giving you a small wink.  

“He takes my comments too literally sometimes,” You shook your head.  The woman smiled politely.  

“He’s a very good singer.  You’re lucky to have him.” 

“Oh, I am.  Sometimes I wonder what I would do without him.  He’s been my best friend for God knows how long.” You watched him turn to look at the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he sang the lyrics.  The crowd watched with light smiles as the man played. 

“That’s the best relationship you can have.” 

“Oh!  I’m sorry, I just realized I never introduced myself.  I’m Y/N,” You introduced yourself. 

“I’m Geraldine.  I’m one of Wanda’s friends,” She replied.  

Wanda seemed to pop up at the mention of her name because the next thing you knew you saw her next to you.  “How wonderful!  Hey Wanda, how are you adjusting to the town?” 

“Well, it’s been quite a big adjustment but everyone here is so welcoming that it’s easy!” She said, straightening out one of her gloves.  “Now it would be a little nice if my husband decided to show up soon.  We go on right after Loki.” She started fidgeting with her fingers.  

“Oh you two have met?” You asked her.  She seemed to freeze for a moment, before relaxing again and responding. 

“Yes, right before you showed up.  He’s so sweet!” She gushed.  

“Well, he is quite charming.  As I’m sure you can see by what he’s singing right now.  I mentioned Hank Williams once this morning and this is what I get for it,” You giggled. 

“Aw, that’s so romantic of him.” 

“It truly is.  But enough about me and Loki, Geraldine, when did you arrive in town?” You asked, turning towards her. 

“Oh, I’ve been here for a while, I just haven’t had the time to participate in any of these fun events until a few days ago. Perhaps we should have an evening out with just us girls one day, get to know each other,” She responded, 

“That would be great!  We could go out, find something fun to do, get a break from our husbands,” You said, laughing.  Wanda laughed a little as well.  

“I’ll have to see when I’m free,” Wanda mentioned.  “We’re still trying to settle into our home so life has been a little chaotic.  I feel like I need some magical stone or something to reverse time and give me a chance to relax.” All three of you chuckled at her statement. 

“Now that would be a wonderful tool.  If only it existed,” You groaned dramatically.  

“Well, either way, if you ever need any help settling in, let me know Wanda.” Geraldine mentioned.  You nodded your head in agreement.

“Yeah, don’t ever hesitate in reaching out.  We’re here to assist in whatever you need.” 

“You girls are so amazing!” She exclaimed, hugging the two of you.  You smiled and hugged her back.  

As she broke the hug, Loki walked off the stage and back to you.  “You were amazing, honey,” You complimented him. 

“Oh please, you weren’t even listening all that much.  But thank you anyway,” He kissed the top of your head.  Wanda and Geraldine watched with small smiles. 

“Wanda, Vision needs to get here in another five minutes otherwise I can’t do much more.  They’ll tolerate another break but that’s all I can do,” Geraldine mentioned, walking up to the stage.

“Thank you Geraldine,” She sighed, clearly frustrated.  

“He’ll show up.  He must know how much this means to you Wanda, so I have no doubt he’ll be here in time,” You said.  She nodded her head.  

“He’s never late.  He’s always on time, always punctual.” 

To ease her panic and worry, Loki decided to change the subject.  “I don’t believe we’ve met yet.  I am Loki,” He introduced himself.  You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“I thought you two already met,” You asked.  

“Well I know she’s been in the neighborhood for a few days now, love, but I haven’t had the opportunity yet to properly introduce myself.” He responded.  

“I’m Wanda,” She smiled nervously.  She was trying to figure out a way out of this situation.  Fortunately, Vision was running over just in the nick of time.  He seemed out of breath, with his full magician’s suit on.  “Where have you been?!” She began to yell at him. 

You walked away a little, giving them space.  Loki followed closely behind you.  He seemed confused, but only by your expression.  It didn’t seem like he was concerned by Wanda.  “What was that about?” You asked him.  

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head slightly, much like a dog.  

“Wanda said that you guys met already, while you were on stage.  And then you act like you didn’t know her at all.” 

Before he could respond, you noticed a glint in his eyes.  It was like a red mist reflecting in them.  The color faded quickly, back to the grey you were used to.  He seemed phased out, like something else caught his attention.  “We briefly talked right before you arrived, so maybe that’s what she meant.” 

You nodded absentmindedly.  You didn’t believe him at all.  Too many things were becoming too suspicious at this point.  Loki saw how you reacted, hurt flashing in his eyes.  A part of you would’ve felt guilty if you didn’t feel like you were being left in the dark constantly.  

“Loki I wish I could believe you, but so many weird things have been going on lately.”  You muttered under your breath.  

“Y/N, what’s wrong, love?”  He asked, placing his hands on your waist.  He was concerned, but he didn’t know what to do. 

“It seems like everything is off.  I’m seeing weird things around this place, weird people.  It all started when Wanda came to town, and now there’s some weird guy that I met at the store and-” 

“Wait, what weird guy?” 

“The one that I bumped into a few days ago.  He talked to me today and he sounded absolutely insane.”  

“What did he talk to you about?” 

“He started asking me questions I didn’t know the answers to.  He started spouting out some weird stuff about the town.  I ended up walking away because he wouldn’t stop pressing about it,”

“I don’t trust that man,” He said, almost afraid. 

“Me neither.  But with the other weird and strange things happening now, I wonder if there’s any substance to what he’s talking about.” 

“Y/N, don’t start with this.  Don’t get yourself caught up with someone like him.  You’ll drive yourself mad with this.” He pulled you closer to him by your waist as you avoided his eyes. 

He lifted your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him.  “There’s something wrong here, Loki.  Do you remember how we got here?” 

“How we got here?” He echoed. 

“When did we move here?  When did we get married?  When did we decide to get married?” You asked him. 

“That doesn’t matter, love.  The important thing is that we’re here now, together.” He pressed. 

“You’re avoiding answering the questions.” 

“We deserve happiness, don’t you think?” You froze when he asked that.  Something about that phrase, those words, were eerie.  

You pulled away from him quickly.  “Don’t say that.  Loki, I deserve to know how we got to this point in our lives.  I can’t remember what we did to get here.  If you won’t tell me, then I need some time alone.  I’ll be home later tonight, but please don’t follow me.” 

You started walking away, refusing to look at Loki.  You know you’d run right back if you saw the heartbreak in his eyes.  

W̵̲͓̱̹̻̜͖̟̺̲͕̍̉͑̀̈͜͝ͅh̴̨̻̠̫̫̲̟͖͊̃̐̓̈̅̄͜a̶̢̛̜̝̯̩̻̾́̐̓͛́͜ț̵̡̜̗͓̱̠̝̖͚͕̹̗͚͖͗'̶̧͙͉̜͈̖̹̠͍̓ş̴̢̡̥̰̤̱̩͓̹̦̠̥̞̎̾͊͘͜͠ ̴̡̙̬͓̻͉̭̗͎̙͕͌̈́g̶̛͉̜̯̥̍͒ö̴̢͙͇͍̮̮̝̗͈̲̬̪̯́͋ͅͅĩ̶̧͕̜͖͖͎̌́̂̐͗̏́͛̃̄͘͠͝n̴̨̢͙̼̩͕̼̮̬̪͙̊̽͊̓̇̈̀̈́͒̈́̓͘͜͝ǧ̸̱̮͕̮̻̻͇̖̪̯̳̂̈́̉̾͐͜͠ ̸̭̼̃͂̇͗̓̆͐̓͗̀͋̑̉͊͛ơ̶̡̡̧̩̤̙̤̯͇̝̞̫̤͓̆͑̓̉̌͂̃̓̍̋̄͘ͅņ̶̯͓̭̺̹̪̅̓̍́͗̅͗͘͝ ̶̢̡̼̗̙̤̫̳͇͓̻͉̼̯͈͐̔̄̄͊̈́̐̿̔̄̈́̕ṋ̴̭̫͖̜̫̦̀͆̒͘ͅo̸̗͊̋̏̇̊̾̿́̆̇̈́̑͝͝w̶̛̛̼̓̍̀͐̄̀̈́̈́̿̽̚͘͝?̷̳̜̜̺̼͙̜̰͊͊͗̆͒̋͜

“Darcy?” 

“What’s Wanda doing now?” 

“She’s performing a magic show.  It’s just like any other sitcom.  She’s trying to hide her powers because Vision has decided to go haywire.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the background.  

“It looks like Y/N and Loki.” 

“It looks like they’re fighting,” She responded, pointing out their frowning expressions, their stiff body language.  

“Would Wanda script that?”

“I doubt it.  She’s apparently living the perfect little sitcom life after all.  She’d never want people fighting like that.” 

Suddenly, the television screen flashed for a moment.  The camera panned to the talent show, pointing directly at Wand and Vision.  You could no longer see the other couple. 

“She must’ve noticed.”

“And she doesn’t want anyone else seeing.”

.

.

.

.

Taglist: @emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen​ @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15

[kinkykite]

Spending your day off together

warning: fluff ahead!

My first Bungou Stray Dogs Post! 

Chuuya: 

The real event here was not your day off, but the night before your day off. It was the first time in awhile since both of you had the same day off. This was, of course, on purpose because Mori knew what happened when you two got to spend a day off together, let alone a full weekend. Needless to say, Chuuya brought out some wine for the two of you to enjoy after weeks of working nonstop. 

“It’s so nice to finally be able to relax and spend time together,” Chuuya says, as he pours you a glass. 

“Indeed it is. What would you like to do this weekend?” 

“Oh I think you know what I would like to do this weekend my dear...” You blushed at the thought of it. It had been awhile since you two could be intimate with each other. You giggled as he winked at you. You grabbed a book and laid in Chuuya’s lap while he sipped on his wine. 

“Do you want me to read out loud?” 

“Mmm maybe for a bit my dear,” you started to read while he drank and ran his fingers through your hair. Your dear Chuuya is a bit of a lightweight though and after a couple glasses, he was wasted. You gasped as he gently grabbed the book from your hands and then chucked it across the room. “Now I can see your beautiful face my baby,” he says while squishing your cheeks. He then leans down and places a sloppy kiss on your lips. You scrunch your face because he wreaks of alcohol. He pouts when he sees your reaction and lets you go and tries to get up. You quickly get up yourself and catch him as he was falling over. 

“Let’s get you to bed, Chuuya.” He complies very easily, saying how he is going to treat you so well tonight and how much he loves you and misses spending time with you. You feel your cheeks heat up; even though you know he’s drunk and spitting nonsense, you can’t help but smile at his comments. He was so endearing when he was drunk. You plop him down on the bed and he passes out instantly. You get in bed with him and watch him sleep for a bit before drifting off as well. 

The next morning, you would wake up to a grumpy Chuuya. He would definitely try to brush off his words and actions from the night before, but you wouldn’t let it go. 

“If you mention it one more time I’m going to...” 

“Going to hmm?” You mock him. 

“Oh you’ll see...”

“Will I? ;)” Oh you definitely will see. Of course this was Chuuya’s plan for the weekend after all.....

Dazai: 

“Let me sleep for just another few minutes pleasseeee,” Dazai begs you. 

“We’re supposed to go on a date today Dazai, please get up this was literally your idea...” he looks into your eyes and pouts. 

“Fine. But only if you give me a kiss first,” he smirks at you. His hair was all messy and he had morning breath. You lean in, closer to his face, and then flick him on the forehead. 

“Nice try my dear.” He snarls at you. 

“Oh you’ll pay for that later,” you roll your eyes, and turn away from him before he can see your flushed cheeks. He rolls out of bed and starts to get ready. You take this opportunity to sit for a bit and read. You hadn’t been reading for more than 10 minutes before you realized it had become silent again. “I swear if he went back to bed...” you mumbled. Sure enough you walk back into your shared bedroom to see Dazai all cuddled up in the sheets again. 

“Hey, seriously?” you scold him. He rolls over and looks at you, then opens his arms. 

“Can we stay and cuddle in bed all day instead of going out?” You think for a moment before deciding that it wasn’t very often you two could genuinely spend the whole day doing nothing. “Please baby~~” you ignore him and start changing back into you pajamas. He cheers like a little kid. You pull up the covers and get underneath them and he scoots closer to you and pulls you into his arms. You snuggle your head into his shoulder and sit like that for a few minutes. He lets go of you then grabs your face and starts showering you with kisses. You giggle as he kisses you all over your face. You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deep kiss. 

“I love you Dazai,” you say gazing into his eyes. 

“I love you more...” 

“I doubt that,” you tease him. 

“I’ll prove it!” 

“Then prove it!” 

I think you can guess what that ended up leading to.... 

Akutagawa: 

Honestly he is a bit shy to meet you out in public. Working with you was one thing, but meeting you outside of work was completely different. Not many people are aware of the two of you being together, so if anyone saw you two casually having a date in town they would be quite shocked needless to say. 

But you wanted to go shopping on your first day off in forever and Akutagawa happened to have the day off as well. You weren’t originally planning to even bother asking him to tag along but when he asked if you had plans for your day off you were surprised. He was casual about it, but this would be your first real date together. You told him that you were planning on going shopping and he said he wouldn’t mind tagging along with you. 

“You want to go shopping...with me...on YOUR day off??” 

“Well if that’s what you want to do then yes. The only thing I want to do is spend time with you on my day off,” he says blankly looking at you. You tsk and feel your cheeks heating up. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow at noon, we can get lunch first.” You were honestly just dumbfounded by this man. But you obviously weren’t going to say no. 

It was 11:20 and you were already anxious to meet Akutagawa. You had been ready for nearly 30 minutes already and wondered if you should leave early. You could definitely find something to do while you sat and waited for him, so you decided rather than just sitting at home you would walk to the area you said you would meet him at. By the time you got there it was about 11:40. But to your surprise, Akutagawa was already waiting there. He looked up from his watch and made eye contact with you. You thought you saw a smile on his face, but you could be wrong. 

“I guess you couldn’t wait either,” he says chuckling. You just stared at him with wide eyes. ‘Who is this dude?’ you thought. His eyebrows raised as he looked at you. “Are you okay....?” 

“Weird...” you say, walking down the street towards a restaurant. He follows behind you. After eating, you walk around finding places you wanted to shop at. After leaving one of the many stores you stopped in, Akutagawa hesitantly grabs your hand.  

“I thought you didn’t like being touched, Aku,” he turns to you and just blinks for a few seconds before answering. 

“Mmm, not really, but if it’s you then I guess it’s okay.” You let go of his hand and squish his cheeks together to see his reaction. He snarls at you, but he doesn’t push your hands away. Then you decided to take things one step further and you laid a smooch on his lips. When you pull away you see him with wide eyes and his cheeks were bright red. 

“Do you like that?” 

“Well I don’t dislike it....” 

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (19)

    jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: suggestive themes, some angst

words: 7.7k

    chapter nineteen

You expected Jungkook to skip class the next Monday morning because neither of you had gotten enough proper sleep this weekend, but, surprising you, he was standing outside of your dormitory even though it was barely light outside, holding two coffees in his hands, and smiling.

Squinting at him suspiciously, you waited for an explanation why he looked so excited to be awake at seven in the morning – not to mention, why he got up early to get you and him coffee, and then showed up at your dormitory in time to catch you leave.

“I just wanted to go to class together with my girlfriend,” Jungkook said simply enough, emphasizing the last word.

“You’re lying,” you said, still watching him intently but accepting his coffee nevertheless. You almost considered yourself overly paranoid as soon as you took a sip of the blissful beverage, but Jungkook’s smile widened.

“Okay, fine,” he said, unable to hold it in much longer. “Yoongi told me something last night and I’d been looking forward to talking to you about it, so I’m still on a high.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“No—listen. We got an out-of-town gig,” he said, his eyes glittering so bright, some of the street lamps nearby flickered awkwardly, intimidated. “It’s the first one. Apparently, the manager of some club or event hall—I don’t know—was visiting a relative on campus this Friday, and they saw us play. It’s next weekend. I want you to come with me.”

“Tha—that’s great, wow. I’m proud of you,” you said and you did mean it but, at the same time, you felt worried.

Jungkook had abandoned Parental Advisory right before the encore last Friday. What if some inane force got into his head and made him ditch the show again? He was obviously still not used to the consequences of his actions since, most of the time, he miraculously came out of every mess alive.

“You’re all very excited, I don’t doubt,” you said, choosing your words carefully, “but, uh… are you sure about this?”

You could see some of the initial joy fade away from his face after your question, and your mind immediately awarded you with a mental kick.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, last Friday—” you tried but Jungkook cut in as if he’d guessed that this was going to be the direction in which your conversation turned.

“No, don’t,” he said hurriedly, not wanting you to say another word about how much frustration he’d caused his bandmates. “We’re fine. We’re family, we don’t fight long.”

You nodded empathetically – or so you hoped – and tried again, “I was just saying that you—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off again, still smiling patiently even though his voice was inching closer to the edge with each hesitant word that came out of your mouth. “You’ll be there with me. I’ll be fine.”

The confidence in his tone was infectious, however.

He said he’d be fine. You weren’t going to insist and make him doubt himself, not when he was voicelessly asking you to trust him.

“I hadn’t technically said yes,” you pointed out instead, more to tease him than anything else.

Jungkook replied, tongue-in-cheek, “I asked as a courtesy. I’m kidnapping you if you don’t agree to come with me.”

Relieved that the tension seemed to dissipate after you decided not to shove your worries on him and maybe even push them away from your own shoulders, too, the two of you started to walk towards the building where your class was going to take place.

“You always take my choices away from me,” you told him, a playful smile still on your lips. “Let me make a decision.”

Jungkook nearly froze, feeling the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. He saw your face and could recognize that you were just playing around, not really trying to tell him that you were offended, but your words, joking or not, still hit a painful, throbbing spot inside of his mind.

He was using your feelings for him to get you to do what he wanted. He was doing it again. Even despite his mother’s concerns about his influence on you seven years ago. Even despite you both being adults now.

“I wasn’t—I… I just didn’t want you to make the wrong choice,” he said, browsing through dozens of lame excuses and choosing the one that made him sound the least like an asshole.

You knew he wasn’t an asshole. That was why you didn’t get upset when he told you that you were coming before you got a chance to accept his offer.

Still, wanting him to open up and explain what was going on inside of his head, you wondered aloud, “what’s the wrong choice here? Me, not going with you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook answered, not hesitating but looking down at the gravel underneath his boots,  “I need you there with me,” that didn’t sound right. He corrected himself with an awkward chuckle – as if to reduce the strength of his next words, “I always need you with me. That’s why I didn’t wait for you to—”

“Well, say it like that, then,” you asked in a voice that was almost as impatient as your heart, who’d suddenly decided it wanted to leap out of your chest and take a walk around campus. “I’ll never say no.”

His face lit up. “Is that a promise?”

You responded to him by smiling and then looked away, letting him know, “absolutely not.”

“What?” the boy blinked, suddenly lost in his translation of your language. “You just said—!”

“You’re a shithead with unreadable intentions,” you told him kindly. “I can’t promise to always say yes to everything you do. But if you actually ask—”

“Okay,” he gave in, accepting your condition because you were making a good point. “I’m asking now.”

You nodded, appreciating that he did ask, after all, even though it’d all been decided already.

“I’ll come,” you said.

Jungkook smiled – genuinely now, not looking for ways to tease you or fool around anymore – and exhaled heavily to show you an exaggerated version of how relieved he was to hear this.

“Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”

The confession was supposed to be the new normal, but your heart was still on a field-trip, your heartbeat echoing all over your body as you smiled back. “I love you, too.”

The first time you saw Inna since she left last Friday, was when you got home from class on Monday. She heard you come in but, contrary to what you’d expected, she didn’t greet you by the door, demanding to know what had happened over the weekend.

Instead, you found her sitting by her desk, turned over in her chair as she was facing the door of the bedroom, a smirk on her face.

Automatically, you felt your own lips stretch into a smile as you entered the room, asking, “what?”

“Should I prepare for a third roommate to move in with us?” she asked, taking enormous pleasure in the way you sat down on the bed and purposefully turned away from her to unpack your bag.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, hoping to sound nonchalant but, judging from the way Inna snorted, probably sounding desperate to change the topic. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“Oh, I did,” she replied, her face still adorning a Cheshire Cat’s grin. “But I bet it was nothing like the weekend you’d had.”

Pursing your lips because you couldn’t help but feel yourself respond to her cheerful expression with a smile, you asked, “will you stop looking at me like that?”

“I absolutely won’t,” she replied, “not until you tell me every detail.”

“You don’t want every detail…”

The way your sentence faded made Inna gasp. She jumped from her chair abruptly and threw herself across the room, landing on her stomach right next to you, on your bed, her legs flying up from the floor in excitement.

“Oh, like hell, I do!” she exclaimed, drumming on your thigh with her palms as she waited for you to stop digging around your bag and finally give her something. “Come on, I’m starving here. Feed me.”

Almost laughing, you allowed Inna to grab your bag out of your hands and shove it away, out of your reach.

“Did you hear how that sounded?” you asked as you lied down on the bed next to her.

“Unfortunately, I did,” she countered, “because you won’t start talking. Come on! I know you want to.”

You did want to. But, unfortunately for your dignity, you also wanted to giggle uncontrollably and your roommate’s encouragement wasn’t helping your restraint.

“I won’t be able to say one sentence if you keep looking at me like that,” you warned her.

Inna had a solution for everything, turning away from you as she talked you through her plan, “Talk to my back. I promise I’ll stay quiet. Well, no, actually, I can’t promise that, but I promise I will definitely hear you out until the end before I start screaming.”

In fact, she did not.

You could hear her supportive whining and flapping of her feet as soon as you told her about how you found Jungkook outside of your dorm room when you returned from the barbecue. Her response to your story kept growing louder, and, before you were through with the re-telling of the conversation you’d had with Jungkook this morning, she was nearly shrieking, making it impossible for you to quit beaming.

Even when you expressed your concern about Jungkook’s tense relationship with his bandmates, Inna responded in a way that supported your joyful state of mind and made all of your anxiety seem unnecessary and over-the-top.

“This is it,” she declared, triumphant. She still wasn’t looking at you. “You’re really together this time and there’s nothing that can happen to ruin that.”

“Famous last words, Inna.”

“Oh, please,” she turned on her back, looking at you through her eyelashes. “You’ve reached the limit of the curveballs the universe can throw at you. You’re fine now.”

You felt a natural instinct to argue – it was like a rudimentary reaction to anything that promised you a good future: you had to find every way in which something could go wrong so you’d be prepared once it inevitably did – but you swallowed it, nodding instead.

“Yeah,” you agreed, choosing to live in the moment because it was too precious to just let it pass. “We’re fine now.”

Coincidentally – marking the beginning of a new period in your life – something almost unbelievable happened on the day of the Parental Advisory performance.

Because a gig out-of-town was, obviously, a huge deal for a band that had only performed locally before, Jungkook brought it up to his parents.

He did it offhandedly, almost as a last-minute way to let them know that he was finally advancing in more than one aspect of his life. And also, to spite his father who’d called his band a “hobby”. 

But, surprising him to the moon and back, his parents asked if they could come and watch him play.

And so, they were here, inside of the venue, exploring the poorly lit and barely furnished event hall, and not being any more judgmental than they usually were.

“It starts at eight, right?” Jungkook’s mother asked you, since her son was backstage with the band, dealing with the lighting. “Maybe we could sneak in some dinner before the show.”

“Oh, actually, the band is planning to go out for some food together,” you said, unsure if the invitation extended to parents – and doubting it very much, considering the name of the group – but still feeling like it wouldn’t be polite to not invite them. “Maybe you could—”

“No, we won’t intrude,” Jungkook’s father replied this time. “We’ll meet you here after. Eight o’clock sharp. Although, being sharp doesn’t matter much at events like these, right?”

He smiled, waiting for your supportive laughter, but you could barely muster up a chuckle.

He’d said it like he was about to watch a street performer break dance outside of an opera house – like it was a form of art that was universally acknowledged, but it didn’t hold any meaning in the larger context of art – and you had to fight your sense of justice so you wouldn’t correct him.

Jungkook may have been reckless and, sure, he may not have finished a show one time – that you knew of – because he got wasted instead, but you’d never heard of a Parental Advisory performance that did not start exactly on time. Inna had used this argument to convince you to get into them a dozen times before: the members respected their audience, they didn’t think of this as a joke.

“Yes, eight o’clock,” you said, the same polite smile frozen on your face. “Jungkook is really looking forward to this.”

“He should be looking—”

“We are, too,” his mother stepped in, bringing a hand to your shoulder and squeezing it gently – a gesture meant to make up for her husband’s immediate response about what Jungkook should have been looking forward to. “We’ll see you later tonight.”

You nodded and followed after them so you could see them out of the venue – not that this was your responsibility, but it felt like the right thing to do since their son wasn’t here – except someone grabbed your hand right after you reached the exit. Gasping in shock, you turned around to see the son in question, grinning at you.

Fighting off the surprise, you looked back to see his parents walk out of the venue and then narrowed your eyes at Jungkook as you inquired, “were you waiting for your parents to leave before you came out?”

“Yes,” he admitted, shameless. “Sorry I had to use you to keep them company.”

“It’s fine, they’re nice people,” you said and then added teasingly, “you should hang out with them sometime. I think they’d like you.”

Jungkook gave you a look full of skepticism. “I could hear my dad basically call my band useless from all the way over there.”

“He—” you started, but then realized that defending his father would have meant lying to Jungkook, so you sighed instead. “Yeah. He just doesn’t see what this is all about, I guess. Have your parents ever watched you perform before?”

“What do you think?” he asked, nervously tugging on your hand – that he kept on holding – as a reflexive reaction whenever the topic turned to his family.

You nodded knowingly.

“So, this will be their first time,” you said. “They’ll come around. Well, your dad will. Your mom seemed excited.”

“About the show?” Jungkook asked, lifting up your hand and intertwining your fingers, “or about the fact that you’re here with me?”

You smiled, unable to help it. “Both?”

“No, that can’t be it,” he countered, taking one remaining step to close the distance between you. He dropped your hand on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. “No one’s more excited about having you here than me.”

You ignored your racing pulse and played along, “are you sure? Because I’m pretty excited. I was even thinking of getting one of those ‘I’m with the band’ t-shirts that I remember your groupies wearing.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in humor. “My groupies?”

You shook your head in a chastising manner. “Don’t act so surprised.”

“That’s not surprise, that’s indifference,” he spoke and, even though he was clearly using his lines on you again, the smell of his cologne when he stood so close to you, pressing your body against his, was too intoxicating for you to call him out on it. “And, in any case, I’d like to see you wear something else entirely.”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

Jungkook leaned in closer until you could feel his breath on the nape of your neck as he whispered, “nothing at all.”

Almost jumping in surprise as a wave of excited shivers ran down your spine at his words, you squeezed his bicep in a warning manner and chuckled. If Jungkook didn’t know you better, he’d have thought you sounded nervous when you spoke again.

“Don’t forget where are are,” you reminded him as he hummed against your neck, pressing several gentle, butterfly kisses on your tender skin. “Your bandmates are right behind that wall—”

“Are they?” Jungkook asked, pulling away enough to look at you but not enough to give you any space to breathe as his forehead lingered mere millimetres away from yours. “Maybe we should do a soundcheck of our own, make sure they can really hear us?”

You watched him with parted lips and he cherished in rendering you speechless so much, he couldn’t help the smirk that spread on his face right before he leaned in to kiss you.

Sighing – mostly in defeat because, clearly, he’d succeeded and you weren’t going to protest much anymore – you tightened your grip on his shirt as you kissed him back.

Jungkook had very much forgotten where he was as soon as he felt the softness of your lips against his and, taking a few steps forwards until your back hit the wall, he used the element of surprise to his own advantage as he deepened the kiss, trapping your body between his and the wall.

Both of you could hear muffled noises, coming from somewhere in the venue, but just like before – in his childhood bedroom or in the hallway of your dormitory – you were too far gone to care about any noise – or anything at all – that wasn’t literally right in front of you.

He kissed you like he had a point to prove, like the performance he’d come here for wasn’t going to begin at eight, but it began now. And he gave his all, pulling you closer and tightening his grip on your waist as his fingertips crept down to your belt to pull out the turtleneck that you’d carefully tucked into your jeans this morning.

Wanting to touch you, not just your clothes, he evidently couldn’t have cared less about your relative exposure to the rest of the venue, as he pulled out your sweater and sneaked his hands underneath. As soon as his fingers felt the warmth of your skin, he exhaled into the kiss, forcing you to grasp his shirt harder.

You knew of Jungkook’s abilities when it came to mood swings – the boy could climb from zero to one-hundred in under a second, that was nothing to him – but the unexpected lust and the intense passion of his kisses still took all of your breath away as you held onto him, not making any requests to slow down or take a break even if your lungs were starting to ache.

“Oi!” a voice called out suddenly. Jungkook didn’t even flinch, kissing you harder, if anything. “You need to tune in your—nevermind. Just hurry up and come backstage, will you?”

Jungkook made no sound of acknowledgement whatsoever, too focused on the task at hand and too lost in the feeling of your lips to worry about anything else, so you were the one who had to pull away, your lips smacking against his as you broke the kiss. When he opened his eyes, Jungkook looked almost offended.

“They’re waiting for you,” you told him, breathing heavily as if you were recovering from finishing first at a marathon. He looked at you as if you spoke a different language. You tried, “the band?”

“They can—”

“We don’t have the whole day!” his member called out again – you couldn’t see which one it was because Jungkook still refused to pull away – and you heard him open the door to return backstage. He shouted at Jungkook again before leaving, “but you do your thing! Not like a lead vocalist is that hard to replace.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at the last part and you felt yourself smile softly, nodding your head in the direction of the stage.

“Go,” you encouraged. “I’ll go sightsee.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And leave me here?”

“You have a soundcheck to get to.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, grinning again as he leaned in to press a soft kiss right below your jawline. He pulled away far enough to add, “with you.”

You half-laughed, half-exhaled as he peppered gentle kisses down your neck.

“Not that kind of—Jungkook,” your voice did not sound nearly as stern as you wanted it to; even your hands seemed limp as you tried to push him off of yourself and gain some space to breathe, “seriously.”

He reacted to your rejection in the way he always did – by taking a step away from you and giving you an almost mournful look, “you are pushing me away. That is unacceptable.”

“You have more important matters right now,” you told him.

“I do not,” he insisted childishly.

“You do,” you repeated and then, pushing yourself off the wall, you placed your hands on his shoulders as you attempted to turn his resistant frame around, “go. I’ll come back in time for the dinner.”

Jungkook allowed you to push him towards the door to the back of the stage, but he still whined dramatically in a last-ditch attempt to tug at your heart-strings, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“You act like you’re five years old sometimes,” you told him and then added, less seriously, “I’ll see you soon. Be a good boy and behave.”

“Oh, behave,” he repeated, intrigued now. You stopped in front of the door and released your grip on his shoulders, allowing him to turn to face you. The twinkling lights in his eyes were challenging as he asked, “will I get a reward if I behave?”

“Yes,” you said, “your reward will be not getting your ass handed to you by your members. Now go.”

You gave him one last nod towards the door and then a reassuring smile, too, because the boy was pouting as if this was his first day in kindergarten; you felt ridiculous and he was absolutely using that to win more of your love. 

You were about to turn around to leave when Jungkook suddenly leaped forwards, taking your hand and stopping you.

“You’re leaving without kissing me goodbye?” he asked, looking almost outraged. “Your audacity is just—”

You pressed your lips to his abruptly, shutting him up before he could proceed any further with this game, and then pulled away as soon as you felt his grip on you tighten; Jungkook was losing his sense of reality again.

Not saying anything else, you used his disappointed reaction as a way to get your hand out of his without him stopping you, and then, with a quick wave, you jogged towards the door. When you turned to glance at him one more time before you left, Jungkook was still standing there, shaking his head and smiling at the ground.

You‘d checked Google Maps before arriving to get acquainted with the area and, as it turned out, you didn't have to look very far to find an activity to occupy yourself with, because right across the street from the venue, was a horror book store that Namjoon had told you about before, back when you were working on your Sociology project.

Snapping a quick picture of the exterior of the store, you texted it to Namjoon to let him know you visited it, and went inside to explore.

The space was small, with barely enough room for two people to pass each other, but it was paradise for every horror fan. Not only did it contain books – many of them first editions, no less! – but also old DVDs and promotional movie posters. Actually, you thought you even saw a few VHS tapes hidden behind some books, too.

Canceling your plans to explore the rest of the city, you made a split-second decision to spend the few hours before the dinner here. And you didn't regret not going anywhere else – the several books and movies that you‘d bought seemed like a great purchase and you were satisfied.

However, as you headed for the restaurant where the band was supposed to meet up for dinner, you felt weirdly worried. It was Jungkook who‘d sent you the address of the restaurant, but he sent you four texts of it, and you were concerned that no one else was going to show up because he‘d only informed you – four times – and forgot about everyone else.

As it turned out, that wasn't what you should have been worried about.

In fact, at first, you didn't think there was anything worth worrying about at all. You saw the boys seated at a table outside, underneath a large parasol, laughing and having drinks. Jungkook noticed you first and he stood up to meet you on the steps of the patio.

“Heyyy,” he said as soon as he saw you, drawing out the y’s for what felt like three whole seconds.

You lifted your eyebrows but chose not to make a comment. “Hi. Did you order yet?”

“No, we were waiting for you,” he explained, putting a hand around your shoulders to guide you towards the table. He didn’t duck when you two walked past the narrow space between two tables and nearly got his eye taken out by a parasol rod. “Oh, wow! Now that—that could have killed me.”

“It could have blinded you,” you said, giving him a long look, “how would it kill you?”

Laughing instead of replying – because, apparently, you had just made a joke – Jungkook helped you into your seat and took one right next to you. When he turned to take your glass and fill it with champagne – the waiter had left three bottles on the table; one of which was already empty – you got to take a closer look at him and realized with horror that his red eyes were definitely not a sign of having had too much champagne.

“So, how was the soundcheck?” you asked, looking at the other members of his group – which was a mistake because Jungkook wasn’t aware of how much champagne was too much, and it ended up spilling out of your glass and pouring all over the table. “Careful—! Jungkook, why—let me. I’ll do it.”

He was laughing again and apologizing as he clumsily tried to clean up the mess on the table with the sleeve of his jacket. Gently pushing him back into his chair by his shoulder, you grabbed a few napkins and tried to soak up the liquid that hadn’t seeped into the tablecloth yet.

The rest of the group wanted to help – a chorus of belated “oh!”’s sounded around the table – and, even though you expected them to be about as useful as Jungkook, they proved to be a lot more in touch with their surroundings.

“The soundcheck,” Jungkook said, pinching his thumb and index finger and kissing it like a chef, while everyone else around the table cleaned, “was great. We’ll have an unforgettable night.”

You saw Taehyung giggle and gave him an inquisitive look – one that proved to be more threatening than you’d intended, because the boy blinked and stopped smiling as soon as he caught your eye – prompting him to explain.

“We had a quick, little smoke before we came here,” Taehyung said and then nodded his head at Jungkook, “him a little more than the rest of us.”

From the way it seemed, the smoke Jungkook had had was nor quick, nor little – he was swinging on the back legs of his chair as he sipped champagne; a second later, he lost his balance and would have fallen over if you hadn’t been standing next to him.

Hearing his alarmed gulp and seeing the chair freewheel backwards, you stopped and pushed it towards the table with your thigh and Jungkook burst into laughter.

“You are my lifesaver,” he declared and would have probably burst into a solo round of applause if the waiter hadn’t distracted him by bringing the appetizers.

“Is he going to be able to perform like this?” you asked, sitting back down. You glanced at Jungkook and noticed his preoccupation with the shrimp on the plate in front of him. “He probably doesn’t even realize where he is.”

“We still have a few hours,” Taehyung replied. “He’ll be fine.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched the boy next to you indulge on everything that was on the table at the moment – it seemed like he would have gladly tried to take a bite out of the glass bottle of champagne, too, that’s how little attention he was paying to the things he was putting into his mouth – and you tried to find the reason why he decided to get high before a show that his parents were going to attend.

But then, perhaps, that was precisely it. This was a concert like none he’s done before in more ways than one: not only was it off-campus but it was also going to be the first time that his parents would see him sing live. So, however ridiculous it was to say this about someone as confident as Jungkook, but he must have been nervous.

“Maybe it’d be a good idea for him to—” you started to say but half of a breadstick was shoved at your face before you could finish.

“Try this!” Jungkook insisted, waiting eagerly for you to open your mouth as if he was going to feed you ambrosia itself. “It’s brilliant.”

Worried about what he would do if you refused, you parted your lips and allowed him to feed you the breadstick. He waited patiently while you chewed and then smiled proudly when you gave him a nod and a weak smile.

“I could have a hundred of them,” he announced then and, judging from the dedicated glint in his eye, he was planning to do just that.

“Is that normal?” you asked his members again, nodding your head towards Jungkook as he stuffed his face with breadsticks.

“What, his love for bread?” Hoseok replied this time, snickering. “Surprisingly, yeah. It becomes more prominent when he’s high. He once ate an entire loaf in one sitting.”

The other boys burst into giggles – thus, reminding you that they weren’t sober, either – and you exhaled slowly, realizing now that this dinner was going to be a particularly long one.

You’d hoped that by the end of your main course Jungkook would be back to his normal self, but that was not the case at all. In fact, his high didn’t wear off even when you returned to the venue after the dinner.

With less than an hour left to the show, Jungkook was dozing off backstage, harmonizing under his breath and dropping the microphone in shock when you entered, closing the door a little too loudly for his overly-sensitive ears.

“Oh!” he exclaimed matter-of-factly before leaning down to pick the microphone up, all while ignoring the scolding of audio engineers. “You’re right on time—listen to this.”

You stopped a few steps away from him and watched as Jungkook put his microphone to his lips before he opened his mouth to grunt and release other low, gruff sounds, coming from somewhere deep in his throat, that made him sound like a cat, choking on a ball of fur.

He looked immensely pleased with himself when he finished the impromptu concerto. Raising his eyebrows, he awaited your reaction.

“That’s good,” you said, mentally calculating if there was enough time left to push him into a cold shower. “You’re all set for your audition to join an a cappella group.”

“An a capp—no, I’m not joining—wait, do you think I should?” he asked, sounding terrifyingly genuine.

You heard the door open and close behind you, but Jungkook leaped forwards before you could turn around and embrace the distraction.

“Hey, Yoongi, listen to this—!” Jungkook said and was about to repeat his previous demonstration, but you decided this was enough.

Pulling on the sleeve of his shirt, you cut him off and, ignoring his surprised yelp, you dragged him towards the communal bathroom on the other end of the changing room.

“Hey!” Yoongi called out after you. “Where are you taking him? The show’s in forty-five minutes!”

“He needs a cold shower,” you called back, not bothering to stop or turn around, “or he will perform his rendition of a hairball being stuck in his throat on stage.”

Yoongi didn’t question you further – he’d regained enough of his rationality to understand why that’d be a bad way to start the show – and, a second later, you were already pushing Jungkook into the shower stall, still fully dressed. He hadn’t changed into his stage clothes yet, so you didn’t think it mattered.

“Are we taking a shower together?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows. “Because I’d prefer to be undressed for that.”

You turned the shower on. A long moment of silence passed after the water hit Jungkook.

“Ah, shit!” he finally exclaimed, gasping and jumping away from the stream of the ice cold water that had already soaked him. His reaction was, clearly, still delayed.

Regardless, Jungkook gave you a look full of terror and disbelief – as if you’d thrown him to the wolves and he only realized that after half of his leg got chewed off.

“Why are—” he tried to ask but you cut him off, getting the front of your own clothes splashed with water as you redirected the barely motioning shower head towards him.

“Because you’re high out of your mind,” you replied, “and if you don’t want to get disowned, you need to sober up as quickly as possible.”

“How is this—my head is going to freeze!” he complained, trying to bolt but only slamming his body into yours – and, thus, making you even more wet – as you blocked his exit. “Please. I’m cold.”

“Good,” you replied – so honest, it was almost ruthless. “That should speed up the process.”

He whined for the next few minutes – you were convinced that, after the first minute, his whining turned into a habit because, at that point, he already looked half-asleep – but he didn’t try to run away, which was a blessing, because if he came to his senses, he could overpower you and escape with relative ease.

However, escaping wasn’t on his mind and Jungkook endured the cold shower with newfound determination. You chose to take it as a sign that he was now sober enough to recognize the danger of going to perform while he was so high, he wouldn’t have been able to recognize himself in the mirror.

He climbed out of the shower shaking, somewhat dizzy, but aware of his surroundings.

“I’ll get you a towel,” you said after you’d helped him take his black t-shirt off – it basically rolled off his damp skin, really –  but Jungkook pulled you back by squeezing your hand.

“T-thank you-uh,” he said, his lower lip trembling from the cold.

The gesture surprised you – you thought he’d sober up, but you didn’t think he’d appreciate that – and you felt yourself respond to him with a nod and a smile.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised again.

Most surprisingly, the shower seemed to work. To be fair, Jungkook still giggled when he walked into the side of the door on his way out of the bathroom, but he could actually sing now – as soon as he stopped shivering, that is – and, with five minutes until the start of the show, he looked much more ready for the performance ahead.

“Thank you,” a voice said to you as you lingered by the door of the changing room, toying with the end of the extra shirt that you’d borrowed from Jungkook. You turned around to see Yoongi. “Most people would have just left him to deal with it on his own.”

You were quick to realize that Yoongi was, obviously, thanking you for taking Jungkook off his hands.

“He’s capable of a lot of things,” you replied, “but cleaning up his own mess isn’t one of them.”

That got him to chuckle. “Yeah. I honestly thought he’d be fine. It’s not the first time we went for a smoke before a show. To ease the nerves, you know?”

You didn’t know. Somehow, you’d assumed, the members of Parental Advisory never felt nervous.

“Yeah, uh, I get it,” you said, realizing how naïve that belief had been. “He sort of overdid it this time, though.”

“Sort of,” Yoongi repeated, “that’s one way to put it.”

“Would it make me sound masochistic if I said I’d seen him worse?” you asked, only half joking.

“No,” he replied, “but the fact that you stayed with him in spite of it, kind of would.”

He gave you an apologetic smile but you responded with an understanding nod. 

There was nothing to get upset about: Jungkook had wreaked havoc on your life, that was true -- but only because you’d let him. You could have walked away if you felt like you’d had too much, but you chose to stay.

“Yeah,” you started to say after inhaling deeply enough to fill up both of your lungs. “Well, he’s—”

“He loves you,” Yoongi said. “He probably thinks that’s enough to make up for the times he fucks up.”

You lowered your head, admitting this to him and to yourself, “sometimes that is enough.”

Rationally, the fact that Jungkook loved you probably wasn’t supposed to be enough, but, to you, it was. And you were the one who made the decisions for your life; you were the one who decided if you were treated fairly or not. 

And tonight felt fair.

Tonight felt like you were helping someone out; someone who didn’t have enough strength – or, simply, pride – to even ask for help.

“His parents are in the audience tonight,” you said, voicing the reason why you understood Jungkook’s thought process that had lead to him, getting high right before the show. “He’s probably ten times more nervous than usually.”

Yoongi nodded. “Yeah, but he’ll do great. He’ll be fine now.”

“The shower should have—”

“Because you’re here,” he added unexpectedly. “He would have probably found a way out of this even if you weren’t here – no offense – because he’d had plenty of practice coming out of fires he’d set himself. He’d come out of them burned and in pain, of course, but, at least, he’d survive. And now... with you being here, he might come out of this completely unscathed.”

You thought about his words, looking away from him and, thus, giving Yoongi the permission to excuse himself and join the rest of his bandmates by the side of the stage as they prepared to start the show.

Then, finally, choosing not to fight the small smile that had successfully made it to your lips, you exited the changing room, too, and joined Jungkook’s parents in the venue. 

Apparently they’d been back here for a while and Jungkook’s mother had an ambiguous smile on her lips when she saw you approach their seats. You were taken aback by the similarity between the expression on her face right now, and the look on Yoongi’s face when he told you that Jungkook loved you. 

Too surprised to ask how long they’ve been back, you chose to remain quiet as you took a seat next to Jungkook’s mother, and waited for the show to start.

Parental Advisory performed in the same breathtaking manner as they did back on your campus – they’d captivated the attention of everyone here before the first song even ended – and you could not stop yourself from cheering along with everyone else.

You could distinctly recall yourself in a contrasting position just a little while ago – back when Inna had dragged you to the Parental Advisory gig, right before you went to their after-party and talked to Jungkook for the first time in seven years. 

Back then, you couldn’t let go of your prejudice and did not think it was fair for the group to have a following this large. They weren’t anything exceptional, after all. But, even so, you could remember the awe you felt when you watched Jungkook on stage.

He was in his element. They all were.

You still thought the music they performed may not have been extraordinary, but the members of the group had something inside of them – something that helped them connect with their audience. Something that made their performances a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And every time Jungkook looked at your box – you weren’t sure if he could distinguish your and his parents’ figures – you realized that your preliminary opinion about him had been correct: he was arrogant and very full of himself.

But Inna was right, too – from the way he got every single person, even the security staff, immersed in the band’s performance, he had every right to be arrogant.

You kept looking back to Jungkook’s father, anticipating a comment from him and even biting your lip to resist the urge to smile after you involuntarily allowed yourself to imagine the way his voice would sound when he admitted that he’d been wrong and that, clearly, Jungkook had already discovered his place in life.

But his father remained quiet all throughout the concert and, perhaps, that was enough. He hadn’t made a single negative comment – and that alone said plenty. 

However, surprising you, the biggest compliment from Jungkook’s father came as soon as the performance ended, and Jungkook returned backstage.

His eyes were still red, but his entire body was glowing from the post-show high, so you’d have never guessed the real cause of the redness on his face. He enveloped you in a hug as soon as he saw you, nearly suffocating you with the strength of his grip, and leaned over to press a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek.

That was when his father spoke up and offered to drive you both home.

You didn’t find it unusual at first – they had a car, why wouldn’t they offer to drive you home? – but Jungkook went stiff in your arms and, when he pulled away, you suddenly understood why the offer was unexpected.

Jungkook’s father had never driven his son anywhere, not unless it was for the sake of the company. Making it worse, you were probably correct to assume that, ever since Jungkook moved out of his parents’ house years ago, his father’s urge to drive his son anywhere had disappeared completely, regardless of the motives behind this drive.

“Uh,” it took Jungkook a minute to gather his words. “Thanks, dad.”

That wasn’t something he thought he’d get to say when he first woke up this morning.

His father nodded and reached into the pocket of his jacket for the car keys when Jungkook suddenly continued.

“But, actually, we thought of staying behind to get some drinks. To, uh, celebrate the successful performance, you know?” he said, threading carefully and holding onto your waist tighter. Even though you’d already pulled away from the hug, Jungkook did not let you take one step away from him.

His father’s face grew clouded. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

He asked it in a very official tone, as if he was making a business deal – almost wondering if merging with a different company was a wise choice.

“Yeah. It’s nothing big,” Jungkook said, caressing your shoulder to bring attention to the fact that you were standing next to him and his father had no reason to stare him down like that, “I won’t be there alone.”

“Did you even ask her if she wanted to come?”

The question – that sounded so natural coming from his father’s lips – forced him to freeze, just like that Monday morning, outside of your dormitory.

A loaded moment had to pass before Jungkook found himself again but, by that time, you’d already realized you had to interfere.

“I don’t mind,” you said, not wanting someone else to do the speaking for you when you were, technically, a part of the conversation. “I’d love to share a toast with the guys.”

You tried to substantiate your words with a convincing smile but, really, you didn’t know why you paid any attention to your facial expression at all – you weren’t lying.

Aside from Jungkook getting into a fight with Brock at the last Parental Advisory party, you didn’t have a terrible time there, and you figured that, perhaps, your bias against partying with the band members had been unfounded. Either way, you were genuinely ready to give it a second chance, especially when your body was still abuzz with the electricity from the show.

But Jungkook’s parents watched the two of you for another moment, looking very uncertain. You hadn’t heard them talk about you all of those years ago, and yet the shadows of their voices seemed to echo in your mind, expressing their concern about Jungkook being too big of an influence on you and, eventually, dragging you off the rails along with him.

Finally, a very defeated, “very well” sounded from his father’s lips as he gave you both a nod and turned around towards the exit, waiting for his wife.

“You were wonderful,” Jungkook’s mother whispered to him, giving you a wink and then bringing her hand over her son’s cheek, “thank you for inviting us.”

“Thank you for coming,” Jungkook said and, when his parents left, he turned to you and repeated his previous words with a deep exhale of relief, “thank you. For coming, for staying, for—”

You could feel the tension pulsing in his blood as he still hadn’t let you go and, wanting nothing more than to ease his anxiety, you cut him off with a kiss. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you allowed him to pull you into his arms as he held onto you as if you really were his lifesaver as he’d called you before.

“You’re welcome,” you said when you pulled away, taking his breath with you.

keep reading | masterlist

[siren-dragon]

Cultural Studies -- The Cat Returns fanfic

Hello again, guess who wrote another one-shot! Anyway, this prompt came to me (along with several others, lol) so I decided to write something for it. Also, big thanks to everyone who enjoyed my first story. Also, Haru’s outfit is based on the yukata from the Love Nikki game and I may draw something for this story at a later date. Anyway, please enjoy!

AO3 story link    Tagging: @mysticsoulgirl

Prompt: Summer Fireworks Festival

=======================================================

Though the Sanctuary, and by extension the Cat Bureau itself, experienced many a visitor wishing for assistance with one thing or another- it wasn’t exactly a stationary place. True, anyone could follow Muta from the Crossroads and through the twists and turns of Japan’s alleys to locate the entryway arch, but that wasn’t truly the Bureau’s physical location. Anyone who was in need could find the Sanctuary entrance, all they had to do was merely look for it. So, while Baron was not unaccustomed to a variety of clients (even if the quantity seemed to have diminish over the years), it was always a study in new cultures when a guest appeared. Even when the cat figurine made a point to be open and courteous to a visitor, there were often a few things he gained new knowledge of.

“A fireworks festival? I’m afraid I’ve not heard of such a thing before.” He spoke, handing Haru a now size-appropriate cup thanks to the Bureau’s magic.

The dark brunette offered a small word of thanks and a bright smile before continuing. “Really? Oh, they’re great fun. Originally it was started as a festival for the dead; to mourn the lost one while celebrating life. But nowadays it’s just a fun activity to watch while eating festival food with friends.”

“Did I hear someone mention food?” Muta spoke, closing the front door behind him. “Hey Chicky, you bring any snacks with you today?”

From the upstairs balcony came a snort of displeasure. “You ever think of anything aside from your stomach,” Toto drawled, rolling his eyes at the cat’s one-track mind.

“What was that birdbrain?!”

“Oh, come on, think of a new insult piggy-cat!”

Before the fight could escalate anymore Haru, now a more convenient size for Baron’s home, rose from her seat on the sofa and lifted a bag where the scent of sugar and fresh fruit wafted throughout the room. “If you two are going to fight, then Baron and I will eat this by ourselves- including the mulberries I got special for you Toto.”

Both cat and crow immediately silenced themselves before tossing a glare at the other, “You got lucky, big chicken.”

“Sure thing, marshmallow.”

Baron sighed, taking out the necessary cutlery before Muta decided to forego the use of utensils. “Muta, have you experienced such festivals in the Human Realm?”

“What festivals?”

“The fireworks festival coming up this weekend,” Haru clarified as she handed Toto the collection of mulberries she brought.

It was here that the ex-con feline grinned, “oh yeah. Gotta love summer festivals in Japan with all their fried food and sweets. Best time to be a cat.”

Toto snickered, “why am I not surprised; you only think from your stomach.”

“Shut up!”

“There’s also games where you can win prizes and some shops as well. And at the end there is large fireworks show everyone watches to celebrate the summer season.” It was here that Haru’s excited smile seemed to dim slightly, “I was going to go with Hiromi, but she has a family reunion to attend. And my Mom will be out of town during that weekend- so I’ll just be watching it from my house.”

As a figurine being made out of wood, anything associated with fire was typically something Baron tried to actively avoid. And while he would deny it fervently later onto a rather smug looking Muta and Toto, the slightly disheartened expression on Haru’s face sent a rather unpleasant sensation through his chest sent nearly all thoughts of self-preservation out the window. It reminded him of their previous adventure in the Cat Kingdom; with her clad in a fine, pale-yellow gown and wearing a look of absolute despair despite it having been her so called “wedding day”. And so, it was not 2 seconds later that he found the words tumbling from his lips without any kind of second thought.

“Perhaps we can accompany you to this festival instead, Haru.”

That certainly caused the brunette to stare at him in surprise, yet a spark of joy danced within her caramel eyes. “Really? You guys would want to go with me?”

“Hey, if there’s food then you can count me in.” Muta shrugged, finishing his slice of chiffon cake.

Toto nodded, “I’m sure it’d be a great experience; what with the lack of clients to the Bureau.”

Haru beamed brightly with sheer delight, “Thank you everyone, I’m sure you all will love it!”

When Haru had finally left for the day, a definite spring in her step, Muta couldn’t help but turn a sly grin to his fellow feline. “Well, that was rather generous of you to volunteer us for something you didn’t even know about till 30 minutes ago.”

“I’m not sure what you are inquiring Muta. It was quite clear that Miss Haru was looking forward to this festival and it would be unbecoming of a gentleman to allow her to merely remain home alone and miss the event entirely.”

Toto nodded, “I have to say, I agree with Baron on this one. But I don’t think it was that difficult to persuade you after that melancholic expression crossed her face.”

Baron gave a displeased frown to his colleague’s rambunctious laughter, which did nothing to hide the slight tint of pink beneath his cream-colored fur. Honestly, since when was chivalrous behavior become a source of mockery? And yet… the sight of Haru’s joyful smile was more than worth it.

“So, are you going to wear a yukata?”

“A what?”

That answer only made the hefty white cat laugh louder.

 ======================================================

“Muta… are you quite sure that this garment is placed on correctly.”

“If the picture is anything to go by, then yeah. Besides; you can’t wear a suit with tails to a summer festival- you’ll stick out too much.” The large cat answered, glancing down at the newspaper advertisement in his hands before looking back to his much shorter friend. “Hmm, I think that’s right.”

“You idiot, tie for the sash is supposed to be in the back.” Toto commented, taking the advertisement with his beak to compare the image to Baron’s new attire. “See, there isn’t a giant bow in the front.”

“Okay first, it’s called an obi and second, stop butting in birdbrain!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you knew what you were doing, fluff-ball!”

Baron was going to attempt to silence their bickering before the sash about his waist loosened slightly causing the robe to flutter open and expose part of his chest and collarbone before the ginger feline took hold of the garment’s sides and quickly held them closed. He briefly wondered if it would perhaps be better to merely wear his typical suit before a knock sounded on the door- halting Muta and Toto’s argument. The crow quickly flew toward the door and swiftly opened the door to reveal Haru. She too was clad in a traditional yukata of navy blue with ivory and cream-colored stars swirling around a crescent moon at the hem of the dress before continuing upward. The sash wrapped around her waist took on a pale blue color while the right sleeve of her dress shifted colors; with the stars now dark and the fabric white shade. Though her hair was cut short, it was still pinned back by a blue, yellow, and orange silk flower with the latter two colors matching the shade of his own fur. To be perfectly honest, she looked quite breath-taking.

“Baron are you wearing a yukata?” She grinned, noticing his change of attire immediately which only made the statuette cling to the folds of the loosened robe all the more tightly. “I didn’t even know you had one!”

“Well, Muta saw fit to inform me this is the traditional attire for a summer festival so it is a recent addition to my wardrobe. However, I seem to be having a bit of trouble actually dressing.” He answered, unable to prevent the sigh from leaving his lips at his current dishevelment.

Haru giggled, placing her small bag on the sofa before approaching him. “Don’t worry, it’s always challenging for a first-timer. Here, you just need a little bit of adjusting…”

Despite his attempt to remain calm at the innocent offer, Baron couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face as Haru approached and began shifting the obi about his waist he had attempted to tie on earlier. He still kept his hand clenched about the folds of the yukata as Haru expertly straightened the robe, to which he gave her a very grateful smile. Soon he was now properly clothed, even wearing the haori properly before Haru stepped back to admire her handy work (though Baron felt a slight twinge of disappointment at her shift away from him). “There we go, a perfect fit.”

“Thank you, Haru. And may I say, you look lovely as well.”

She beamed at his reply as she moved to retrieve her bag. “Thanks Baron. But if you wanted to wear a yukata, I could have helped you find one.”

Muta shook his head, “that would have ruined the surprise Chicky. Plus, nothing was more amusing than watching Baron try to put it on.”

“As always, your assistance is greatly appreciated Muta.” Baron replied dryly, remembering the past hour where both his friends tried to guide him in how to wear the clothes.

As they walked through the archway of the Sanctuary, Muta walked ahead of them now on all fours while Toto took to the skies. However, as soon as Baron exited alongside Haru, he grew till he was once more a head taller than the dark-haired young woman instead of a foot-tall figurine. But the fact that his feline appearance remained gave Haru pause- knowing most would not really take the appearance of a half-cat man kindly (even if people believed it to be a ridiculously realistic mask). But it seemed her thoughts were rather evident on her face, because Baron was quick to assuage her fears. “Do not worry Haru, there is a spell in place masking my real appearance. You are the only one who can see the truth.”

“I didn’t know you can use such spells, Baron.” She asked curiously.

He nodded, offering his arm to her which she gladly accepted. “Yes, though I am afraid they are only temporary. But I thought this would make our evening engagement far more enjoyable without any disturbances from bewildered onlookers.”

“It’s no trouble at all, actually I think it’s a good idea. It does make me curious as to how your disguise looks.”

Baron paused and gestured to the glass window of a shop they were walking past, “see for yourself.”

Turning to the window, Haru looked at Baron’s reflection nearly jumped in alarm upon not seeing the familiar feline characteristics she had come to cherish. Instead, the face of a young man who looked a few years older than herself gazed back at her from the reflection. His hair was a light tawny blonde the same shade as Baron’s fur, perfectly coiffed to suit the Creation’s usual debonair attire. Where once fur and whiskers existed was now fair skin and a rather amused smile taking in her slightly bewildered expression. Yet despite the disguise, Haru took comfort in the fact that Baron’s eyes were still the same shade of mint-green.

“That is rather impressive, if a bit shocking at first.” She laughed a little nervously.

Baron frowned, “does it bother you too much?”

“No, it’s not that,” she answered with a shake of her head before beaming up at him. “I just prefer you the way you are, that’s all.”

It was the second time in the past few days that Baron found his words failing him once again at her kind, yet honest words.

 ======================================================

Perhaps the first thing that caught Baron’s attention were the vibrant banners illuminated by dozens of lights and lanterns. The street was lined with colorful booths, each hosting a different attraction as friends and families traveled back and forth to every single one. It was a rather jarring change from the peace and quiet of the Cat Bureau, but as he glanced down at the excited grin on Haru’s face as she enthusiastically explained each booth’s function, Baron couldn’t help the pleased smile drifting across his face. “So then, what would you recommend we do first?”

“Food, I’m starving!” Muta cried from about their legs before he bolted down the street, causing several people to laugh at the rather large cat obviously following the scent of frying food. “Takoyaki, here I come!”

Haru laughed, “well, food always is a good choice. Though we’d best pace ourselves, festival food is great, but not exactly healthy.”

“Then I shall follow your lead, Haru.” Baron added, glancing around briefly with a bit of confusion drifting across his face, “I must admit, I thought a fireworks festival would have more of that particular attraction.”

“That happens at the end of the night, mainly because it’ll be darker and it’ll give us a chance to see most of the booths before we have to find seats to watch the fireworks. But we’d best find Muta before he manages to pilfer too many snacks.”

Baron chuckled, “I think it’s more of his charming attitude that wins him such favors.”

Haru couldn’t help but laugh at that, and judging from the faint cawing above their heads, Toto heard it as well. “Well, we’d best hurry before that charm gets a bit carried away.”

The couple soon found their way further into the festival and managed to find Muta, who looked rather smug at having charmed a piece of taiyaki from a group of teenage girls. True to her word, Haru managed to procure a few treats for them all to try, ranging from takoyaki to kakigori to some onigiri before they walked to where Toto waited upon a nearby but isolated tree. Muta had nearly claimed all of the takoyaki while Toto took a liking to the plain onigiri and the roasted chestnuts Baron was eating. Though Baron was not overly found of the deep-fried food, he couldn’t deny that the kakigori Haru offered was quite delicious.

As the sun soon sank below the horizon and the sky turned dark with the coming night, many people started moving away from the bright lights of the festival stalls to await the oncoming fireworks display. “We don’t really want to be too close to all the larger crowds, so we’ll stay on the outskirts instead.” Haru informed them, taking a seat beside the grass. “And I wanted to thank you guys again, for coming with me.”

“Nonsense Haru, this was most enjoyable and we were happy to accompany you.”

“Even though you had to forgo your suit?” She replied with a teasing grin.

Baron gave a slightly sheepish look, “I will admit that dressing did pose quite the challenge, but well worth the effort.”

“Even still, thank you for being such a good sport about it. And I’m glad you had a good time.” Haru chimed happily, turning to look at the ever-growing groups awaiting the final event of the festival. “Hopefully we’ll be able to see everything with so many people…”

“Well, we merely need a seat with a view; and I believe I may have a solution.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The ginger gentle-cat only offered her a hand with a secret smile, “Just trust me.”

At the familiar words, Haru rested her hand upon his and watched as the world around them seemed to stretch upward as her height plummeted to its usual size whenever she visited the Bureau. Toto then landed beside them, offering a place upon his back with Baron holding on tightly the Stone Creations black feathers and Haru wrapping her arms about his waist. Once they were situated on the now gigantic crow, Toto rose high into the air (though not before snatching Muta in his claws much to the large cat’s displeasure while muttering something that sounded like “always a showoff.”) before gliding through the evening sky.

They were only flying for a few minutes before a high-pitched whistle sounded only to be followed by a large explosion of white and gold lights as the fireworks show began. Haru watched in silent amazement as they soared the atmosphere as each of the colorful illuminations danced around them like falling stars. She a joyful laugh at sheer sight of the fireworks show from a literal bird’s eye perspective, “alright, now this is a view.”

“I must agree,” Baron added, though it was hard to hear over the sound of the fireworks.

Moving her head forward, Haru placed a gentle kiss upon Baron’s fur-covered cheek before leaning to rest her cheek against his back. “Just for the record, this is the best fireworks festival I’ve ever been to.”

And for the third time in Haru’s presence, Baron found himself at a loss for words as a pleasing warmth started to overcome his face. Yet as he turned to watch the brilliant lights display with the young woman beside him, he had to admit that it certainly was an enjoyable evening.

[kelchase]

RNM Create 2021 | Day 2:  AU

I have been thinking about posting a rec list since June but, for some reason, I felt overwhelmed every time I wanted to sit down to put one together.  A friend of mine finally convinced me to submit one for @roswellnewmexicocreate so here I am.  Doing the thing. (Hopefully correctly - I’ve never created a rec list or participated in an event 😂 - please be kind) I don’t know that I will participate any other days but I do love to escape into a good AU so I think this was the right day to contribute.  If you haven’t checked out any of these stories I hope you will or revisit them if you haven’t read them in awhile.  Happy reading! :)

Send Me Home by @litwitlady (69,108 - completed)

Michael Guerin is the star first baseman for the Atlanta Braves. Alex Manes is a Nashville superstar. They meet at an after-game concert one cool September night, instantly connecting and unable to stay apart from one another. As Michael battles loneliness and a desire to embrace his various identities, he and Alex grow closer despite the many obstacles standing in their way.

Why I love it:  

1.  Aliens...but make it baseball. 😂  With that being said, the baseball is really secondary in this story. 

2. Honestly, Michael’s character growth throughout this story - *chef’s kiss*.  At the beginning of the story he thinks he is so alone with his secret & that he can’t trust anyone with it.  He eventually trusts his secret to Alex and Danny (aka one of the most wonderful OCs to ever exist) and they accept him for who he is.  Between Alex, and Danny and his family, he finds the home and family that he always longed for, realizing he is not as alone as he originally thought.  I hope we will eventually get to see this kind of love and support on the actual show.

3. You never doubt Michael and Alex’s love/attraction for each other.  Michael was all in right away to the point of making me giggle in delight as I followed along. 

4. The smut is 🔥 & I’ll leave it at that. 😉

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Hold Onto This Lullaby by southern_stars

After moving in with Alex, Michael starts to adopt some of his habits.

Why I love it:  I often think while watching RNM “just let Malex be happy!”  This story delivers the every day domestic fluff that I dream of.

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Heartbeat series by @adiwriting (133,057 - WIP)

During the lost decade, Alex gets Michael pregnant and Michael doesn't see or hear from him again for the next four and a half years. When Alex comes back to town, he discovers he has a daughter with Michael and they all have to figure out how to be a family.

Why I love it:

1.  I’ll be very upfront with you.  Mpreg is not my thing - no disrespect to anyone who enjoys it; it’s just not my usual cup of tea.  I truly almost did not read this story because of it and, let me tell you, my life would be lacking if I had not decided to give it a chance.  I will also mention that you see very little of Michael’s pregnancy in this series thus far.  I would say that there are less than a handful of flashback stories where you get a glimpse.

2. NOVA MAE.  @adiwriting has dreamed up the most wonderful little mixture of Michael and Alex.  She is smart and strong and sassy and I just love that Michael and his support system cultivated these characteristics in this vibrant little 4 year old.  I honestly just want to be Nova Mae when I grow up.

3. The fatherhood.  It melts me.  I have this secret notion of Isobel being a surrogate for Michael & Alex on the show.  I know that it is wishful thinking & highly doubt it will ever come to fruition so I’m happy to live in the world of Nova Mae and pretend. I also enjoy seeing the growth of Alex & Michael coming back together in their relationship while navigating fatherhood & parenting.

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See Something You Like? by @prouvaireafterdark (14067 - completed)

Monday afternoons at Pandora's Box are the best. They’re notoriously slow so Michael gets to work his shift alone, which gives him ample time to grade the engineering assignments he procrastinated on all weekend while he sits behind the counter.

It’s a Monday afternoon, in fact, about a year and a half later, when Michael hears the bell above the door chime softly to announce the arrival of a customer who would change his life forever.

***

The Malex Sex Shop AU™️

Why I love it:  Sometimes you just need some filthy smut in your life and this story delivers. 🔥 Author does a great job with her tags if you want to see if it’s something that would float your boat. 😉

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

*Special mention: 

My Crown is in My Heart series by @litwitlady

This was an arranged marriage fic between Michael & Alex that was a work in progress. I was unable to track it down on AO3 so I assume the author has since removed it but I still think about this story so often that I had to mention it.  I hope she doesn’t mind.

Why I loved it:

1. All I want from RNM is some alien soulmate bullshit & I think this story was headed in that direction.

2. I rarely care about political side stories in my fic but I was honestly intrigued by the world that was being built around the truce between humans and the alien race.  

3.  If I’m recalling correctly, Michael was an alien king (albeit somewhat reluctantly) & I enjoy anytime that Michael gets to be the focal point over Max.

@litwitlady should you ever decide to revisit this universe, you will have at least one very loyal reader. Also, if I totally missed the story on AO3, please feel free to reach out & I will edit my post.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Backslide

Here you go! Jeon Jungkook - classic exes at a party. Long black haired JJK because he is still not paying rent in my head. Smut and angst

It’s the first party you’ve been able to make it to in months. One thing after another got in the way, and you were more than ready to get absolutely wasted and make a few mistakes with a stranger or two. Work had finally calmed down, you had the weekend off, and more importantly your ex was out of town so there were no chances of bumping into him.

By the time your friends arrive to pick you up, you look bomb. Hair is styled, makeup is an inch thick, and your jeans hug your bum in just the right way. Confidence through the roof, you grab a bottle of alcohol from the cupboard and head out the door. The party is in full swing when you arrive. It’s difficult to find the host through the crowd, so you don’t bother instead opting to make a beeline for the kitchen. There are always hot guys in the kitchen at a party. You grab a cup, pour a drink, and wait, eyeing up potential suitors as they milled around the area. It isn’t long until you stop your first target of the evening. Six foot tall and clearly a little lost. You make your way over to the confused boy, reaching for his arm to initiate contact.

“Hi there handsome, how you doing?” he stuttered a little at your obvious advance. You smirk at him, he was adorable. You were going to eat him alive. “I’m Y/N, have you got a name cutie?” he takes a large swig of his drink and builds his courage.

“I’m Soobin.” He glances at the hand you have on his arm and gulps a little, clearly not drunk enough to have let go of his inhibitions just yet.

“Want to get another drink, Soobin.” You emphasize his name like it’s the most important word you have ever said. He blushes and hides away from the scrutiny of too much eye contact.

“Yeah… sure what are you...” he starts but is rudely interrupted

“Leave the poor boy alone Y/N. He isn’t ready for a girl like you.” You roll your eyes as your ex muscles his way into your conversation. Jungkook always did have the worst timing.

“Aren’t’ you supposed to be out of town Jeon?” the distain is evident in your voice. He just chuckles and sways a little closer to you.

“Ouch last name basis, that really hurts.” He pouts and acts as if you’ve shot him in the heart. When he sees you are unamused he shrugs “Plans changed, Jimin thought we could have some fun here instead, looks like he was right.” His eyes rake down your form fitting attire. You just glare back, wondering if you stare hard enough, he will just explode. Soobin cleared his throat.

“Y/N it was nice meeting you, I think I’m going to disappear.” He does an awkward half wave and ducks into the next room.

“What did you have to go and do that for, he and I could’ve had something.” You turn to move away from him. Before you can get very far, he catches your arm and forces you to look at him. You take him in properly for the first time in six months. He looks incredible. His hair is much longer now, curls tumble into his eyes. A plain black shirt covers barely conceals ab muscles a god would be jealous of, and his ripped skinny jeans were struggling to contain his thighs.

“I’m sorry, I mean I’m not, that poor kid was not going to survive a night with you. But I am sorry, that you look that amazing, and I am going to have to ruin every chance you have with any other guys here tonight.” At least the boy is honest.

“Look I really don’t want to deal with you right now, or ever actually.” You shake his hand off of you. “Why can’t you just forget about me and leave me alone?”

“I don’t know how to forget you.” The boy is a little too honest. His expression changes entirely. Going from cocky asshole to hurt bunny in a flash. It hurts to watch him hurt. It will hurt a lot more if you let him crawl back into your heart.

“Kookie…” you realise your mistake using the pet name as soon as its out… but its too late now. “We need to move on, we decided this wasn’t healthy. Please.”

“Y/N-ah, what about just tonight?” the hope in his gaze doesn’t go unnoticed. His bunny smile tugs at the corner of his lips as you don’t stop him from getting closer to you. His nose scrunches as it makes contact with yours, rubbing against it, his lips barely an inch from your own.  

“STOP BEING SO CUTE… it’s distracting.” You push back a little to clear your head. He follows you, not willing to give you the space you would need.

“Never, now come on, you know you want to.” His hands are on your waist, manoeuvring you back in the direction of the back stairway. You let him. it’s not long until you’re moving of your own volition. Taking steps two at a time as he swats at your arse. You stumble in to the first bedroom and lock the door. There is no blaming this on the alcohol, you barely had one glass, and there is definitely no going back from this. Still you don’t stop. Instead you grab at his shirt, clinging to the tight fabric as you kiss him. Months of loneliness and lingering feelings forcing their way into one passionate embrace. His tongue slips easily passed your lips, applying pressure against your own.

He pushes your jacket off your shoulders and moves his ministrations to your neck. He nibbles along the way marking you, needing proof that this was really happening, scared if he let your body go, for even a second, he would wake up from the dream. The same dream he had been having since the two of you split. The one where you always leave hating him, disgusted by him.

Not this time, this time he will make you stay, prove to you he is worth your time, that he will try harder.

He forces you back on to the bed. Slots himself between you legs and continues to kiss and suck along your chest. He barely comes up for air until you tun your hands through his curls, making him look up.

“I’m here Kookie, breath, we have all night.” He nods slowly, taking in your words.

“I want more than just tonight Y/N.” before you can respond his lips are back on yours, stealing all rational thought form your head. Instead your hands move to his belt, making quick work of the buckle and undoing his fly. Your fingers dip below the elastic of his underwear to play with his hardening shaft. He moans into your mouth, to this day one of the most beautiful sounds you think you will ever hear. He grabs your hand and removes it from his underwear, “Let me take care of you first.”

He undoes jeans and shimmies them to the floor, leaving a trail of kisses along each leg on his way back up to your core. He makes quick work of your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room where you will probably never find them. Just as you think he is about to start the main event his face pops back up next to yours. He looks so proud of himself as he presents a small length of satin fabric.

“Is that a blindfold? Did you plan this?” he just winks at you. You let him secure the fabric anyway.

“I brought it just in case, I know how you feel things so much more when it’s a surprise.” His hot breath fans over your sweat dampened sin as he makes his way back down your body. Cold hands surprise you as they trail under your shirt. Your back arches giving him access to the clasp on your bra. It loosens enough for him to be able to play with your nipples under your shirt. He pinches at the stiff peaks and watches with delight as you grimace.

It doesn’t take him long to remember his original mission though, and with one hand still under your shirt he wriggles his face in between your thighs. He nips at the flesh to get you to open up more, allowing him full access to you. He licks a stripe along your slit collecting the already messy arousal lingering there. His tongue dips in further on the second lick, making you shiver. The anticipation too much as he teases you, each touch unexpected. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, tugging at the long strands. You find yourself praying to every god that will listen that he never cuts his hair shorter than this again.

You’re brought back to the situation at hand as the tip of his tongue plays with your clit. Flicking the bud with tiny amounts of pressure. Barely touching it, yet still making you feel crazy.

“Kookie please…” its barely a whine but it spurs him on. Fingers accompany his tongue. Two curl inside of you, scissoring and playing with the spot he knows never fails. His mouth presses down around your clit, sucking at the nerves as he works figure of eights around the centre. It has you keening. You’ve never been more thankful for loud generic party music. Adding a third finger proves too much for you. He licks the cum as it escapes, savouring every drop and then he keeps going. Three fingers deep, pumping faster, now watching every little twist of your mouth as he chases your second orgasm. When he sees the tell-tale sign that you are about to come again, he stops. Pulls away from you completely.

You make grabby hands in the direction you think he is gone. He laughs at you. Frustrated you go to remove the blindfold, just wanting more of him.

“Don’t you dare.” It comes out as a growl. The command threatening enough to have you think twice. “Move up the bed.” you use your elbows to support yourself as you move back toward the pillows. You feel the bed dip as he re-joins you. As his legs brush up against yours, you notice the lack of his jean’s rough material. You bite your lip so hard you can taste blood. He rubs his length along you, gathering the left-over cum. He pushes into you so slowly. It’s hard not to buck your hips up to meet his. But you know Jungkook better than that. He has the self-control to just stop completely if you were to stop him teasing you.

He works up his thrusts, gaining a little more speed. Now he encourages you to meet each one. Dirty words whispered into your ear punctuate each movement. You’re a panting mess by the time he is anywhere near finished.

“Cum for me Jagiya, just one more time.” He rolls your clit between his finger and thumb. You release with one last moan. He buries himself deep inside as you do, painting your insides with every contraction of your pussy. He removes he blindfold, flashes you one of his cheesiest smiles and rolls to the side of you, one arm still connected to you, making sure you’re still there even if his eyes are closed.

Once you can string together coherent thoughts again you panic. This was not how tonight was supposed to go, almost entirely the opposite in fact. You look over at Jungkook, desperate to find the words to say that will make this go away. Knowing that this won’t end well for at least one of you, if not both. Just as you’re about to open your mouth he interrupts.

“Don’t.” you let the silence linger for a second before going to start again. “Please don’t.” he opens his eyes fully and turns over, so his body is facing yours.

“Please don’t what Jungkook?”

“Please don’t go back to using my full name, please don’t tell me we can’t be together, please just don’t…” it leaves you speechless. He was never able to be this open when you were together. Honest yes, open never. It’s what made it so hard in the first place. You reach for his face, stroking his cheek as he blinks back tears.

“We didn’t work together Kookie, it’s a bad idea.”

“I don’t care, we should try again. These last few months have been awful, and you wouldn’t have given into me so easily if you didn’t feel the same way.” You can feel the blush creeping up, he is right after all, you just didn’t think you were so transparent.

“I can’t lose you again. It hurt too much for both of us.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. You’re never going to get rid of me.” He lays back and you find your way on to his chest. you lay there until the sun came up, thinking about all the things that could go wrong as soon as you reopen the door to the real world.

Feb prompt list 

Masterlist

[babybottlepop96]

Basement (Levi Ackerman)18+ Only

Summary: Levi saves you from an abusive Ex.

Warnings: Abusive relationship, Yandereish situations, graphic depictions of blood, death, murder, weapon use

This is for @welcometotheclubhoe ‘s all around the world collab

A/N: Thank you for letting me apart of this and thank you @spellcasterlight for beta reading this!

WC:1584 "I did this for you." He spoke, his hand trailing down your red, tear soaked cheeks. His thumb lightly running along your bottom lip, swollen and bruised from his insistent kisses. 

"But why?" You managed to choke out, throat raw from crying.

"I love you and he wasn't good for you, (y/n)!" His voice rising in anger from just the thought of your abusive boyfriend.

~~~

You cowered in the bathroom after another fight with your boyfriend, Erwin. You had approached him, yet again, about his drinking habit. Missing the days before he lost his business, the days where he would take you out every weekend to either dance or have a romantic dinner. The days where you would cuddle on the couch and watch the worst B rated horror movies you could find. The nights where your bodies were covered in a sheet of glistening sweat, chest heaving as he hovers above you, eyes looking at you with admiration as you both cling to each other, thrusting against one another with silent words of love and praise.

Those are the days you wanted back, those are the days you once lived for.

But everything changed that night, things were broken, the picture of the two of you on your one year anniversary now laid shattered on the hardwood floor. Harsh words hissed towards you, “You inconsiderable bitch! Don’t you care that my life is ruined?! You have no right to say anything!” Ribs were bruised as his foot collided against your side, sending an agonizing pain throughout your trembling body as you held yourself, desperate to hold back the vomit that threatened to expel from your mouth. You went to the only person you knew you could talk to, the only person who knew Erwin better than you did, Levi. Levi had been best friends with Erwin since they were wearing diapers, Levi knew Erwin like he knew the best tea shops and cleaning supplies in town. They were basically brothers and Levi was furious at Erwin for treating you the way he had, but you made Levi, you begged Levi, to not do anything or say a word about this. Levi reluctantly agreed, having been harboring feelings for you for years now. But he was furious at himself for introducing you to his best friend when he wanted you for himself. Besides, he trusted Erwin then, he was sure Erwin would've been the most amazing person for you, but now? All he wanted to do was put his best friend six feet under in an unmarked grave. 

Every night from then on, you called Levi, crying. Crying about the words Erwin would say to you, calling you pathetic and worthless. Crying about how every night you would worry yourself about his whereabouts just for him to come home, reeking of alcohol, hitting you when you tried to voice your concerns. Crying about how much you missed the old Erwin, how much you wanted that Erwin back. How you still loved him even though he gave you every reason to hate him.

Levi listened, his own heart aching for you. His mind tells you to run away to be with him. He voiced that once, offering you to stay with him, to escape from the toxic environment that you once felt safe in. Somewhere far away, away from the heartache that was Erwin Smith. But you refused, adamant on staying, believing that you and only you could bring the old Erwin back. It broke Levi's heart that night. It tore his heart in two hearing how you still wanted to be with a man who abused you emotionally, mentally and physically. 

And then that fateful night happened, the night where Levi got a call from you, voice barely above a whisper. "Levi? Levi! Please! Please help me! I'm so scared!" You quietly sobbed into the phone, Levi already out the door, keys in his hand.

When Levi had to resort to kicking the front door of your shared home with Erwin down, he knew things were going to be bad. He heard Erwin yelling down the hall and made his way there, finding him yelling and pounding away at the bathroom door. Your sobs coming through the splintering wood between each hard pound. Erwin's knuckles were bloodied, whether it was his own or yours, Levi didn't care. You were scared and he was going to save you. 

Levi tried to calm Erwin down, he really did, but once Erwin brandished the kitchen knife he had in his other hand and made a dash for Levi, he had no choice. He drew his gun and before anyone had time to react, before Levi himself had time to think,  it went off, hitting his best friend right in the chest with impeccable accuracy. He collapsed on the floor, holding the wound in his hand as he drowned in his own blood. The blonde gurgling on the thick, sticky liquid was the only sound filling the home before he took his last breath, collapsing on the floor in a puddle of his own red fluids.

You opened the door a few seconds later and screamed as your boyfriend’s blood continued to pool around his cold lifeless body. Crawling over to him, you placed his head in your lap, angrily looking at Levi as tears streamed down your cheeks. 

Levi had to forcibly remove you from the floor, leaving Erwin's now limp and lifeless body on the floor, taking you back to his place. 

~~~

"You… you did all this," motioning around the room under his home. The basement that he had spent countless hours cleaning and disinfecting, de-bugging, just for you. The room he filled with your favorite colors and small knick-knacks he thought you would like, stuffed animals on a queen sized bed and movies filled the tall, dark brown shelves he installed. Just for you. "You killed Erwin, my boyfriend, your best friend, your brother, just for me?" You were so confused, between knowing Erwin was no longer the man you loved and still loving him even through all the shit he put you through, you didn't know how to react. 

You were angry at Levi, he killed the only guy you really seemed to love, but you were also thankful for him. He saved you from a quest you could not complete because the old Erwin was already too far gone to be saved. 

"You're safe now, (y/n)." Levi spoke gently to you. You looked up at the man who seemed to show no sign of remorse for killing his lifelong friend, but instead his eyes showed worry, concern and love for you. You're all he has ever wanted and now he has you. He was a killer, but he was your hero. Saved you from Erwin and yourself because you knew you would have never had the balls to leave him.

You flung yourself onto Levi, knocking the two of you back onto the freshly cleaned carpet underneath. Your lips met his in a wet, sloppy kiss. Coming together like two missing pieces of a puzzle, not even the events of what had just happened minutes before could ruin what was happening. Levi gripped the back of your head and the back of your shirt, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he kissed back. Your hands gripped the front of his ironed white shirt, now wrinkled and stained with blood of your deceased boyfriend. This felt so terribly wrong, kissing the man who killed Erwin, his best friend, but nothing has ever felt so right either. Levi was always the one you ran to when Erwin was hurting you, Levi was the one who offered to take you away from the abusive relationship, Levi was the one who saved you. Levi saved you, he would've died for you, he killed for you. Maybe it was Levi all along, the one who you should've been with. The one who you should've chosen since the beginning, someone whom you had a small crush on when you first met him but decided on the blonde instead.

You pulled away from Levi, looking straight into his steel grey eyes. "I was wrong." You whispered just centimeters from his lips.

"What are you talking about?" He asked as he caressed your cheeks.

"I was wrong for choosing Erwin. It should've been you, it was always you Levi. I was just too blinded by my own heart to see you, right in front of me, the whole damn time. I'm so sorry." Levi then brought you in for another passionate kiss, flipping you over and running hands up and down your sides. 

"I love you, (y/n)." He said as he started to nip at your neck, nimble fingers swiftly lifting your shirt over your head.

"I… I love you too, Levi." You repeated his action and took his shirt off, running your fingers over his toned stomach, tracing scars from childhood and sport related injuries. "There is nowhere that I'd rather be than with you, right here, right now. Even if we had to stay in this basement for the rest of our lives, I don't think I could ever be happier."

So you and Levi spent the next few hours in that basement, the basement where you found yourself in love with the man who saved you, even if that same man was now a killer. He was yours and you now belonged to him.

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 1

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 6,000~  Total: 40,000~ (I’m sorry xD)

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: violence, discrimination (against hybrids), mentions of injuries and blood, anxiety, panic attacks

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: I love writing reader inserts but I just can’t write Y/N. It feels weird to me. So in this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji. I hope this isn’t too confusing for anyone! This is my first time posting my work so I appreciate any support it gets!

You raised the blinds just high enough to let a sliver of pre-dawn light in, but low enough that you wouldn’t be blinded when the sun crested the buildings across the way. You peered through the sheer fabric onto the square outside. The area had seen a lot of development in the last few years. Trendy little shops now lined the street. The coffee shop you owned and operated was tucked between a couple of over-priced restaurants with laughably tiny servings. 

While you weren’t thrilled with the increase in your overhead costs, you couldn’t deny the recent boost in business. There was a steady flow of customers through the whole week, not just in the early morning or on weekends. It had even become necessary to hire a couple of part-timers to keep the place open longer. Not that you minded. You were actually glad for the opportunity to give your friend, Jungkook, a job. 

The rabbit hybrid was nervous by nature despite his imposing appearance; he stood at least a foot taller than you. Your brother, Namjoon was fiercely protective of him. Jungkook came into your lives in your final year of college. The police brought a battered and terrified Jungkook to Remedy shelter, which was run by your friend Jin. They hadn’t seen what happened to him, and he wouldn’t say. As far as you knew, Namjoon and Jin were the only people he ever told.

Your eyes focused on the patio before you, as the very bunny you were thinking of appeared at the door. One of the boys came in on the weekends to work alongside you and help with the rush. The square was usually packed with couples on dates, window-shopping and listening to musicians that busked along the sidewalks.

“Morning, noona!” Jungkook chirped with his wide bunny grin.

“G’morning Koo,” you said, attempting to match his energy level despite the early hour. He laughed sweetly at the nickname. You were the only one he let call him that since he turned seventeen.

“Did you have your coffee yet?” He asked. You shook your head no. “Waiting for your favorite hybrid to make it for you?” 

“Don’t let Jimin hear you say that. You know he’ll take any opportunity to pout,” you said. 

Jungkook chuckled at that. Jimin was the shop's other part-timer. Many hybrids were affectionate, but the ragdoll hybrid took it to another level. He spent every possible second with his arms wrapped around his nearest friend. You were counted among his friends from pretty much your first meeting. When the chance to work at your shop had opened up, he thought it would be a great chance to have some independence. 

Jimin had been rooming with Jin for years. Despite his desire for independence he simply couldn’t stand living alone. So he shared an apartment with Jin and Taehyung, a sweet tiger hybrid. Taehyung had been hard to adopt out because despite his good nature, he was an exotic breed, and a predator no less. Few wanted to risk taking responsibility for him, and those that did had less-than-good intentions for him.

Life was scary as a hybrid. Between the massive industry of underground fighting rings, sex trafficking, and abuse in even seemingly decent homes, any adoption was a gamble. Jin tried his best to vet each family, but he couldn’t catch every red flag. You and Namjoon knew better than most how that haunted him.

Several years ago, the two of you stopped by the shelter. Neither of you could reach him on the phone and you were starting to get worried. You finally found him in his office, passed out over his desk with several empty bottles of soju scattered around. Namjoon tried to rouse him, but all he could mumble was ‘dead, dead, dead’ between hiccuping sobs. The next morning you learned that a hybrid he’d helped earlier that year was found dead in a seedy part of town. The couple that adopted her were being investigated on suspicion of hybrid trafficking. 

He wasn’t the same after that. He got back to his usual smiling self, but he was slower to trust, and slower to laugh. Every time a hybrid left the shelter for their new home there was a flicker of sadness and fear in his eyes.

“Noona? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, breaking your train of thought. You turned to look at him, blinking to stop your eyes watering at the memory.

“It’s nothing Kookie, just thinking about this sad movie I watched last night.” You and Namjoon both agreed that it was best to keep the more tragic events from the shelter quiet. Jungkook had been through enough in the past, and you didn’t want to hurt him further by bringing up old memories. Jungkook frowned at the response.

“It must’ve been really sad,” he said, sniffing lightly. His frown deepened and he searched her eyes. He seemed to debate pressing it further. You knew that his hybrid senses were telling him you were lying. But he seemed to decide it was best to let it go, instead holding out a hot cup of your favorite coffee, a soft smile returning and making his eyes scrunch.

You took it, grateful for the coffee and his letting you evade the question. You set about your morning tasks, laying out chairs, brewing coffee for the self-serve station, and checking that there was creamer chilled and ready. Sunlight sparkled in the air, reflecting off the morning frost. 

It was supposed to snow that night. You shuddered. You hated winter for forcing you to pay for heating, if nothing else. Whenever your friends got together at your house—a tiny one-bedroom apartment above the cafe—Jimin whined about the cold temperature. But you refused to pay for anything beyond what would keep your pipes from freezing. It was expensive enough to own a building in your area already. Instead you wore layers and piled blankets on your bed. Jimin wasn’t really upset anyway, he loved any excuse to cuddle. Movie night usually ended with him and Taehyung asleep on either side of you.

“You actually going to turn on the radiator tonight?” Jungkook teased.

“I have my radiator on! It’s just… turned down,” you said.

He chuckled, knowing you were too stubborn to waste money on ‘luxuries.’ He turned away at the jingle of the door bell. The first customer of the day came as no surprise. A familiar, slouching form appeared, dropped a couple of equipment cases off at the side of the door, and shuffled up to the counter. The young man had black hair that hung down and nearly covered his eyes, which flicked up to meet hers. His lips twitched in a hint of a smile.

“Good morning, Yoongi” You said with more than your usual morning cheer. Jungkook scoffed and you threw him a dirty look. The young man in front of the counter didn’t seem to pay attention, his eyes determinedly focused on his beat-up boots.

“Morning,” he mumbled, glancing up to briefly meet your eyes.

“The usual?” you asked, trying to hold his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said. This time offering you a genuine smile before he looked away again. He busied himself looking through a well-worn notebook while you relayed his usual order to Jungkook: cheese toast and a small hot americano. You returned to the counter and accepted his punch card. He practically filled one every other week, since he was in nearly every day. 

“Performing in the square again today?” you asked. He was one of the buskers that was a regular in the area. He nodded. “You should put on a coat. It’s supposed to snow later. You’re going to freeze if you’re out there all day like that.”

You looked over his clothes. The hoodie he wore was ragged at the sleeves. He had the hood up, cinched a bit against the biting wind. His signature beanie was just peeking out from under it. He scuffed his feet, uncomfortable under your appraisal. 

“I’ll be fine,” he answered shortly. He looked up at you, eyes wide as he realized how curt he sounded. “I stay warm when I’m performing.”

You weren’t sure how standing behind a keyboard and laptop could keep you warm, but you didn’t press the issue. You handed back the punch card and gave him his total. He rummaged in his pockets before frowning and looking up at the menu.

“That’s wrong,” he said.

“Hm?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant. He pointed to the menu over your shoulder.

“Your prices went up, but this is what it always costs.” He pulled a jumble of crumpled bills and coins from the pocket of his hoodie, counting through them. A couple of coins fell and clattered across the counter.

“I gave you the regular customer discount,” you said. Jungkook chuckled as he joined you at the register with the completed order.

“That’s not a thing,” Yoongi said as he finished counting out his change and handed you the total with the new prices.

“It’s my shop. I’m making it a thing,” you argued, pushing the money back toward him.

“Please, Yeoji-ssi. I don’t need a hand out.”

“I didn’t mean that you need it, I just wanted to,” you finally stammered after an awkward pause. Now you were embarrassed, and you felt bad for unintentionally insulting him. Yoongi cursed quietly under his breath. Beside you Jungkook’s ears twitched, and he sniffed curiously; no doubt sensing something you couldn’t.

“I know, I’m sorry. That’s very generous of you,” he said as he gently pushed the money back toward you. Tucking his toast into the backpack and taking his coffee he hurried back toward the door. He fumbled for a minute, trying to carry his equipment and the hot beverage. As he finally got his things together and went to push the door open, you called after him.

“Hey, drop by if you get a chance to take a break and warm up.”

“I’ll try,” he said, turning around and flashing another soft smile as he pushed through the door.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You thought about Yoongi a lot through the rest of the day. Jungkook noticed and teased you all day. You couldn’t scold him for it though, you’d teased him plenty about his first crush.

As long as Yoongi had been coming to the cafe you’d been curious about him. He was quiet, handsome, and talented. You’d heard him perform in the square before. He played the keyboard but also produced tracks that he played from his laptop, blending the simplicity of the piano with a full-bodied studio sound.

You often wondered why he wasn’t working at a studio, producing for idols. He could have been an idol himself with the good looks he hid behind a beanie, hoodie, and bangs. The more you learned about the boy, the more you wanted to know. On your break, you googled his name and found a few YouTube videos of performances at clubs and underground rap battles. Apparently he wasn’t just a musician, he was a talented lyricist and rapper as well.

“Doing some research on your boyfriend, I see?” Jungkook said, resting his chin on your shoulder. You jumped, turning to swat at him as he quickly danced away.

“Don’t read over people’s shoulders! That’s rude,” you scolded. You could feel your face turning pink, and it irritated you to know that he could sense your embarrassment. “He’s not my boyfriend. And I was just curious about his music.”

“Mhm, right,” Jungkook said dismissively. “You’re seriously browsing Google? Come on, doesn’t this guy have an Instagram?”

“Not one that I can find.” Your tone made it clear that you had made a thorough search and failed.

“Wow, really? No social media presence at all? Maybe he has Twitter.” You shook your head. “Facebook? LinkedIn? MySpace? AOL?”

“AOL did IM and email, you dork,” you interrupted, cracking a smile. “And no, I can’t find him on any platform besides YouTube. He doesn’t seem to have his own channel…”

“Weird…” Jungkook said. “Are we sure this guy really exists?” You snorted. “I’m serious! For someone to be completely off the grid on the internet is like, unheard of. Maybe he’s hiding from the law! Or in witness protection. Noona, what if your boyfriend is a drug dealer!”

You swung at him again, this time successfully landing a smack on his shoulder. He ran back out front when the door chimed.

“He’s not a drug dealer, stupid!” You called after him. “And he’s not my boyfriend!”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Namjoon picked up Jungkook after closing that evening. They were having a boys night at Jin’s house.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join, noona?” Jungkook asked, pouting a little bit to try and convince you.

“We really don’t mind, noona. Jimin and Tae would love it if you came,” Namjoon added.

“I appreciate the invitation, but I’ll be fine Joon. And Koo, you know Overwatch isn’t my style. You have fun with the boys. Make sure to let them win a few times,” you said, getting on your toes to ruffle Jungkook’s hair affectionately.

“I will,” Jungkook said, leaning into your hand for one last ear scratch.

You waved off the boys and set to cleaning up for the night. After mopping and turning out the lights in the front you went in the back to wash the dishes. Through the door leading out into the alley, you heard shouting. Listening for a minute, you shrugged it off. Probably just college kids from a local frat house. You often heard them as they stumbled home from the local bar. It was Friday night after all.

That explanation left your head quickly when you heard a scream. The sound nearly made you drop the mug you were washing. That wasn’t a scream of young men goofing around, it was a cry of pain and fear. Before you could think better of it you shook the water off your hands, grabbed your  phone, and raced for the door. 

You burst out into the alleyway struggling to stay upright on the thin layer of freshly fallen snow.

What you saw made your stomach turn. A group of four young men were crowded around the dumpster. Something, or more likely someone, was crumpled in the corner between it and the wall. You couldn’t see much, just rumpled fabric and a couple of bags laying around. The bags were opened, the paper and garments they had contained tossed around the alley. 

The men took turns throwing brutal kicks at the person in the corner, who was now curled so that the only thing you could see besides the snow-soaked hoodie was his hands clutching something to his chest. 

“You thought you could fool everyone? Thought you could scam a buck out of us?” One of the men sneered.

“Too bad. We know what you are. Just because no one wants you doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want,” another said

“You’re just a toy that someone threw away. What were you thinking trying to pull something over on real people?” another said, punctuating his point with a kick to the ribs that sent the victim sprawling onto the snow.

“Hey!” you shouted before you could think better of it. You hurriedly lifted your phone to dial the police. It was dead. Panic shot through you as the four guys turned to you. Thinking quickly you put the phone to your ear and started talking. 

“Hello? I need the police. I’m in the alley behind ***********. There are some young men here and I think they’ve hurt someone.” One of the men took a step toward you, further illuminating his face in the dim security light. You took a step back. “Hey, I have all of this on CCTV! Your faces are on it!” you warned before returning to the imaginary phone call. “Yes, the cameras run 24/7. Everything should be on there…”

The guy closest to you stepped back into the shadows, cursing.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning to walk away and nodding for his friends to follow him. One of them turned to spit on the figure in the corner before walking away.

“You’re lucky, freak.”

You kept talking until the group disappeared around the corner. As soon as they were gone you rushed to the person in the alley. The person flinched away as you approached, tucking in on himself. You stopped, listening as he said something. It was muffled by his arms, which were held up in an attempt to protect his head. 

“What did you say?” you asked, moving a little closer.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” he repeated over and over again. The man’s voice trembled to the point it was hard to understand him, but his voice was undeniably familiar. As you came within arms reach you got a clearer view, and your blood ran cold. There bundled in a thin, soaked hoodie, was Yoongi. The snow that had melted over him from his body heat was quickly refreezing. He shivered so badly you could hear his teeth chattering.

“Yoongi?” you asked in a choked whisper.

He looked up at you then. One of his eyes was blackened, almost entirely swollen shut, with a cut through his eyebrow dripping blood onto his eyelashes. His nose was bleeding, possibly broken. The split in his lip lined up with a quickly darkening bruise on his jaw.

“Oh my god, Yoongi! What happened?” you asked, reaching out for him.

“Please,” he said, more of a whimper than a word. You froze. He was scared you were going to hurt him.

“Yoongi?” you said, more softly this time. “It’s okay. They’re gone. I’m not going to hurt you. Would you please let me help you?” The panic in his eyes seemed to clear a little, and he seemed to really see you when he met your eyes again.

“Yeoji-ssi? I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry. I’ll leave,” he mumbled, wincing as he tried to stand.

“Woah, hold on.” You reached out to steady him. He flinched at the sudden movement, but didn’t pull away this time. “You aren’t going anywhere. Come on, let's get you inside before you freeze.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It’s really not worth the tro-“ he started.

“Yoongi,” you said in your older-sister voice. He seemed to realize that that was the end of the discussion, because he sagged against you as you slung his arm over your shoulders. His free hand was still clutching something to his chest. You glanced at it and your eyes widened. A tail. You looked up at him with a clearly shocked expression. He let out a kind of tired, resigned sigh.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Like I said, I can just go. You can leave me. You probably don’t want me here.”

“Why would you say that?” you said, immediately regretting your tone. He shrank into himself, curling his shoulders in to make himself smaller, even as he winced at the pain of moving.

“Sorry,” he repeated meekly, pulling his arm off as if he expected you to shove him away. You grabbed his hand and settled it back over your shoulder.

“I’m not mad at you, Yoongi. But why would you think I would leave you here?” you said. As you limped toward the door into the café he couldn’t meet your eyes. He’d embarrassed you, again. Of course you’d want to get rid of him. He hung his head and obediently followed you inside. His heart broke as he saw his bags, open and empty, strewn around the alley. His notes littered the floor, already soaked and probably illegible. He glanced around, seeing the edge of his keyboard where it had been shoved under the dumpster in the scuffle. Turning, he realized his backpack—containing his laptop, important papers and notes, and what little money he had saved—was still lying in the corner where you’d found him. 

He turned to you to say something, but found you were already at the door. As soon as the door closed behind him, what little strength he had left him. You eased him to the ground as best you could. He grunted, muffling a whimper of pain. He already felt pathetic enough.

“Okay, I’m going to call the police and an ambulance,” you said, tossing your dead cell phone on the counter and hurrying to the landline. Thank god you hadn’t hadn’t got around to cancelling it yet. Yoongi’s eyes widened and he lurched forward, trying to stand. He only made it one step before he fell, yelping in pain and landing on his hands and knees on the tile. You rushed back to his side.

“Don’t,” he begged through gritted teeth. You stopped short, thinking he didn’t want you to touch him. “No cops. No ambulance,” he got out before lowering himself to lay on his side. You quickly moved to lay his head on your lap instead of the cold floor.

“Yoongi you’re hurt. And those boys should be arrested! Besides, I’m sure someone is worried about you. Don’t you have a…” you trailed off, looking for the right word.

“Owner?” Yoongi said, disgust clear in his voice.

“I was going to say guardian. That’s what most of my friends call their arrangement.” 

“You have hybrid friends? Or your friends own hybrids?” Yoongi asked.

“I guess both, not that my hybrid friends are anyone’s property-“ you cut yourself off. “Yoongi this isn’t important right now. You need help.”

“No. The hospital will call the police, and the police will put me in a shelter.”

“You’re alone?” you asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I’m better his way. If I can just sleep here, I’ll be gone in the morning. Please,” he said. His voice kept getting quieter, losing its bite the more he spoke.

“No,” you said firmly.

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t want me here. I’ll be gone before you wake up. I won’t touch anything. You can just forget all of this.”

“No, Yoongi. I meant I’m not letting you leave like this. I’m getting you help and you’re going to let me.”

You took off your sweater and put it under his head so you could stand and get the phone. Yoongi moved to protest, but you threw him a look and he surrendered. You dialed and watched as Yoongi’s eyes fell closed despite his best attempts to fight it.

“Noona? What’s up?” came the answer on the phone.

“Hoseok, I need your help,” you said, not wasting any time. You could hear the sound of video games and trash talk pause in the background as the other boys asked Hoseok what you called for.

“Shut up a sec and let me ask,” he said to the younger boys who were no doubt hovering around the phone trying to eavesdrop. “Sorry, noona. What do you need? It’s late. Is everything okay?”

“I need a doctor.”

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately, his voice more urgent now. You could hear a whine on the other end already, probably Jungkook, already worried.

“I’m fine, Hobi, but could you take this conversation somewhere more private?” you asked, not wanting to expose the younger boys to any unnecessary trauma. There was shuffling and complaints on the other end of the line, then the sound of a door closing.

“Talk. What’s going on?” Hoseok demanded. The door opened and closed again and you heard Namjoon’s voice.

“What’s happening? Is she okay?” he asked. “Are you okay?” He repeated more clearly, evidently sharing the phone with Hoseok.

“Yes, I’m fine! But I have an injured hybrid here. He doesn’t have a guardian and he’s too scared to let me call an ambulance.”

“What happened to him?” Hoseok asked. He was a doctor specializing in hybrid medicine at the nearby hospital. He often helped out at Jin’s shelter. You felt some relief as you sensed he was in what Taehyung liked to call ‘doctor mode.’

“Some kids beat him up. It’s bad. He’s passed out on my kitchen floor right now. Drenched from the snow too. I can’t carry him into my apartment myself and it’s way too cold in this kitchen.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll have to grab some supplies from the shelter.” 

You heard the door opening again, and a bunch of voices throwing questions at Hoseok and Joon.

“Jin-hyung, shelter keys?” Hoseok requested over the noise.

“I’m going too,” Namjoon chimed in. There was more arguing and shuffling noises as coats were grabbed and shoes were put on and everyone insisted they were coming. You were distracted by a soft murmur from Yoongi, still on the floor behind you. You stretched the phone cord and returned to his side.

“What is it, Yoongi?” you asked, pulling the beanie off to brush some of his fringe off his face. His soft black ears were flattened against his head, and you gently smoothed over them too.

“My bag,” he mumbled, eyebrows creasing even in unconsciousness.

You interrupted the arguing boys on the other end of the phone.

“Bring the boys,” you said.

“Are you sure about that?” Namjoon asked, knowing that you, Jin, and himself all agreed it was best to protect the three maknaes from this kind of situation when it was possible. 

“They can’t come in and see him, but I have a job I need them to help me with. Make sure they dress warm,” you said.

“If you’re sure,” Namjoon said, deciding not to question you. 

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Hoseok said. “Do your best to keep him warm until then.”

“Okay. Please hurry.”

As soon as you hung up, you quickly ran into your apartment in the back. You pulled as many extra blankets as you could carry out of your closet and rushed back to Yoongi. You debated for a minute before pulling off the drenched hoodie, only to find that the black t-shirt he wore underneath was no drier. You weren't confident that you could get the garment off without further hurting him, so instead you piled blankets on top of him. You filled a couple of hot water bottles and tucked them around him; then filled a couple more and tucked them into your bed so that it would be warm when the boys carried him in.

You returned to the kitchen, where Yoongi was barely visible for all the blankets he was packed in. Glancing at the clock, you saw that only 10 minutes had passed. It felt like you’d been waiting for hours. The time crawled as you alternated between watching the seconds tick by and watching Yoongi’s chest rise and fall.

You jumped when the knock finally came at the door. They’d come to the back, the front door to your apartment, and you ran to let them in. Hoseok immediately slipped past you and headed to the kitchen. The others moved to follow, but you stopped them.

“I need you guys to help me with something,” you said. “Those thugs trashed his stuff threw it all over the alley. Joon, can you take the boys and go gather what you can and see if any of it can be salvaged? I know he said his bag is back there. It seemed important to him.”

Namjoon nodded and quickly herded the boys around the building and into the alley. You pulled Jin inside.

“I need you to help Hobi and I get him inside.”

“That bad?” he asked, frowning. You just nodded. He followed you back to where Hoseok was already taking stock of his patient.

“You did good, noona. Seems like you staved off the shock. Move him, and then I’ll dress these wounds.”

You carefully pulled the blankets away.

“Be careful, he was really protective of his tail. I think it’s injured somehow,” you warned before Jin and Hoseok picked him up. They exchanged a glance as they moved toward the apartment door.

“What?” you asked. “Is something else wrong?”

“No,” Jin tried to assure you, though his tone wasn’t comforting. “It’s just… Hobi, I know he isn’t a big guy, but is it normal to be this light?”

“No,” Hoseok answered grimly. “Definitely not.”

Now that your attention was drawn to it, you noticed how slight Yoongi was. His ribs were clearly visible through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. You felt a lump in your throat and looked away, hurrying to open the door.

“You can put him in my room. I put some water bottles to warm the bed.” They nodded and quickly settled him on the bed.

“Do you think we could cut away this stuff?” Hoseok asked, gesturing to his clothes. “It’s all trashed anyway.”

“I don’t know if he has much else…” you said, hesitant to ruin his things.

“I just don’t want to risk further injury trying to get them off intact. And we can’t leave him in these, he’s already nearly hypothermic,” he said.

“We can replace them,” Jin suggested. “I brought a change of clothes. It’s in a bag on your coffee table, noona.”

“Right, great,” you said. “I’ll go get them.”

You hurried out of the room to get the bag Jin mentioned. When you came into the living room you found Jimin, hovering by the door.

“Noona, there was a keyboard by the trash and papers everywhere. Are they his? Should we get them too?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot. His nose twitched, and you realized he could probably smell the anxiety and pain in the air. You sighed.

“Yeah, grab everything you can. We can sort through it in the morning, and see what we can save.” He nodded and turned to leave.

“Chim,” you called and he turned. You wrapped him in a comforting hug. “Thank you.”

A purr echoed in the boy’s chest, even as you heard him sniffle. You knew this whole experience was hard for him. He was one of the volunteers at the shelter the day Jungkook was brought in. That experience still haunted him. It’s why he stopped working at the shelter and took a job at the coffee shop. His tail curled around your waist as he hugged you back tightly.

“He’ll be okay, Chim,” you said, stroking his hair. “We’re going to help him.”

A pained groan came from the room behind you, and you pulled away from Jimin.

“Go back out and help the boys. Once you’re done, leave the stuff in the living room and go to the cafe. Tell Jungkook I said everyone needs a hot chocolate,” you petted his hair one last time and guided him out the door. A shout echoed out of your bedroom, and you couldn’t tell if it sounded pained, angry, or scared. Snatching the bag off the coffee table, you dashed back into the room.

“Get off me!” Yoongi shouted, tail clutched to his now bare chest. Jin stood back, hands up in surrender as Hoseok tried to calm the panicked cat. 

“Look man, your clothes are soaked. We’re risking hypothermia if we don’t get you into something dry.”

Yoongi looked down, seeing what remained of his ratty t-shirt cut open and in the trash. The right leg of his jeans was sliced along the outer seam up to his mid-thigh.

“What the hell did you do to my clothes?” He shouted again. He winced and swayed from the strain of sitting upright.

“Yoongi,” you started softly. Yoongi turned to you, eyes wide with panic. You approached slowly, not stopping when he spat at you to leave him alone, hurling threats and nonsense at you. As you sat on the edge of the bed he shrank back into the bedding around him and refused to meet your eyes.

“Please,” he said, his voice so quiet you hardly heard him. “Please just leave me alone. Please don’t hurt me.”

“Yoongi,” you said again, “I want to help. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” You reached out to gently take his hands. “I swear, I’m going to protect you. Please let me. These are my friends, and they’re trying to help.”

He drew a shallow breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs and nodded. You stood and moved to leave, trying to spare him some privacy.

“Wait!” he said, stopping you. “Please don’t leave me.”

You turned back to him and took in his face, still chapped from the winter wind. You couldn’t leave him. So you stood with your back turned, awkwardly rocking on the balls of your feet as Jin and Hoseok helped him change.

“That’s much better,” Hoseok said, evidently satisfied that his patient was no longer at risk for hypothermia. You turned to find Yoongi with his ribs already wrapped and Hoseok working on dressing the wounds on his brow and lip. The flannel pajama bottoms Jin had brought were much too big for him, you might’ve giggled at how cute he looked if the situation were different. Without the dark hoodie and ripped jeans, Yoongi was undeniably adorable.

“I brought my clothes since I wasn’t sure what size would fit. I guess we should’ve borrowed Jimin’s instead,” Jin said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“Thank you,” Yoongi said, bowing his head in thanks.

“It’s no problem. I’ll bring by something that’ll fit you better tomorrow.”

Yoongi glanced from you to Jin to Hoseok, then back to his hands in his lap. He focused on Hoseok’s hands, which were now busy setting the break in his tail.

“Don’t worry about it, I probably have something in my bag I can wear…” He trailed off, remembering the state his belongings were in the last time he saw them. “I’ll go clean up my stuff as soon as it’s light tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of the way before you know it.”

“Yoongi,” you said, trying her best not to sound frustrated. Yoongi’s ears flattened and you knew you hadn’t succeeded.

“I’m sorry. I can leave now if you want,” he said, tail curling back around him as soon as Hoseok released it.

Your heart, already cracked from all the events of the night so far, finally broke completely. Hoseok stepped aside to make room as you came to sit beside Yoongi again. He was shaking, and you realized that he was terrified. He genuinely believed that you wanted him gone; that you’d throw him out in the snow right then and there.

“Don’t leave,” you said, your own voice trembling now. You reached out and lifted his chin so he’d meet your eyes. He did, and you found they were shining with tears of pain and fear that he was desperately trying to hold back. “Please don’t leave. I want you to stay.”

His shaking hand came up to rest over yours, which still cupped his cheek. He leaned in to the first gentle touch he’d felt in years, and the tears finally fell. You pulled him into your arms, and he let you. He buried his face in your neck and cried as you pulled a blanket over his shoulders. 

Eventually the sobs quieted. His breaths came in little gasps now, as he tried to catch his breath despite the pain in his ribs. You leaned away after a while to look at his face and saw he’d fallen asleep. 

You looked back to find that Jin had gone to check on the boys. Hoseok sat quietly at the end of the bed, not wanting to interrupt. He gave you an approving smile, and you thought his eyes were a bit wet too. It took you a moment to notice Namjoon standing in the doorway. Hoseok helped you ease Yoongi down to lie comfortably, and you carefully disengaged herself from his arms. The two of you exited the room as quietly as you could.

“You were great with him, noona,” Hoseok praised. Namjoon beamed with pride before pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, planting a kiss on top of your head.

“Thank you, Joonie.” Your voice broke and you finally felt all of the emotions hit you. Your shoulders shook and you struggled to stay quiet as you sobbed into Namjoon’s sweater.

A/N: So so so much thanks to my beta reader @sunshineboysbts​ for helping me create and edit this whole fic! She’s been listening to my ramblings for actual months while I worked on this. Love you, girl!

[janicho88]

Falling For You - Part 1

Pairing- Dean x Lisa(past),  Female!Reader x OMC Justin(past), Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count-3019

Warning- Mentions of cheating, slight angst. This is going to be a bit of a slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU, and un beta’d.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

  It had been a long day at work and you just wanted to get home to your couch, although you knew that would have to wait.  The apartment needed some cleaning, and you needed to wash laundry too. You had put it off, work keeping you busier than usual the last 2 weeks, and you really should go hit the gym.  You had been slacking there too. 

The elevator was being inspected when you walked in the building so you had taken the stairs  Reaching your floor you were surprised to find a man standing in front of your door continuously knocking.  Slowing walking over you looked around, no one else seemed to be near.  Knowing the time, your neighbor across the hall, Jess was probably on her way home from work, you weren’t completely certain about her fiancé though.  The other two apartments on this level kept to themselves. 

“Hi, Can I help you?”  You cautiously asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

The greenest eyes you had ever seen turned to look at you with a grin forming. “Thanks, but I’m just waiting for my brother to let me in, unless you want to give me your number for later?”

“I’m good thanks, but why is your brother letting you in there?”  You didn’t get any danger vibes from this guy, so you weren’t too worried about standing here talking to him yet.

“Well miss nosey, it’s because he lives there.”

“I don’t think he does.”

“Really, and how would you know anything?”  The man back to pounding on your door.

Before you could respond Jess’ fiancé Sam came running up the steps sweaty from his evening jog.

“Dude, you weren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow, and why are you blocking Y/N’s door?”  Sam unlocked his door across from you and went to hug his brother.

The man backed away from him, “Seriously man? You’re sweaty and gross, shower first. I needed to get out of there, and traffic on the way up was pretty light.  You told me you and Jess were 44.”

“No Dean, I told you we were 43. We live on the fourth floor in the third apartment number 43.  You weren’t listening,”  Sam turned to you still unable to get into your apartment.  “Sorry Y/N, this is my older brother Dean.  He just got up here from Kansas, he’s staying with us for a little while.  I’ll get him out of your way,”  He leaned down to grab one of Dean’s bags before heading into his apartment.  

Dean turned to look at you then looking at your door before he leaned down to pick up the other bag. “Oops!”  With that he headed into the open apartment and shut the door.  Shaking your head you went to unlock your own door. 

Heading to your bedroom after setting your things down,  you figured if you didn't get your workout done first it wasn’t going to happen.  Quickly changing you grabbed some laundry and went to throw a  load in the washer so the first load would be done when your workout was finished.  Very thankful to have a washer and dryer in your apartment.  Grabbing your key you headed the gym on the ground floor.  An hour on the bike left you feeling a little better, getting out some of your frustrations.  

Back inside your apartment you changed the laundry and started on your dusting and window washing before vacuuming.  Finally finished, you headed for a shower to clean off the dirt and sweat.  

All clean you ventured to the kitchen to see what you could whip up for dinner. When a knock at your door pulled you away.  Who could be here now you wondered.

Opening the door you came face to face with Mr green eyes again.  Shoot, what did Sam say his name was.

“Your brother still lives across the hall.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.  I swear Sammy told me it was 44.  I just wanted to come say I was sorry for bothering you earlier.  I know the right place now.”

“It’s fine.  Have a nice visit.”

“Thanks it’s not really a visit.  I’m Dean, like he said, I’m his older brother.”

“Y/N, the neighbor.  Nice to meet you Dean.”  Holding out your hand to Dean his bigger hand engulfed it in a firm shake.

“Would you let me take you out for a bite to apologize for my first impression?”   

“I don’t know if that’s a good…”

“It’s not a date,”  He hurriedly cut in.  “It’s just, I mean, you seem like a nice person, and you would probably be a great date, but it’s not.  It will just be food I swear.  Tomorrow afternoon, or night?  I don’t know if you have big Saturday plans?”

“Shouldn’t you be spending time with your brother?”

“He has a work dinner with Jess they can’t miss.”

You thought about it for a moment.  You had been friends with Sam and Jess a little while now and trusted them, so you should be able to trust his brother.  “I’m supposed to go dress shopping with my friend Meg, tomorrow.  We should be done by 6 if you really want to grab some dinner.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart, I’ll knock on your door again then.”

“Okay, goodnight Dean.  Oh and welcome to Michigan.”  Shaking your head you shut the door to go back to your search for tonight’s dinner.  

The fridge was pretty empty, you didn’t even have any frozen microwaveable meals left.  Looks like grocery shopping just became part of your weekend plans.  Settling on a bag of popcorn, it is a vegetable of sorts, somehow right?  You finally headed for the couch and turned on the Hallmark Channel to see if there was a movie you could get lost in for the rest of the evening.  Before you know it, it was time for bed so you could get an early start on tomorrow.

It was an honor to be asked to be the Maid of Honor, right?  You needed to keep reminding yourself of this as you wandered through the dress shop the next day with Meg.  Meg was a friend from elementary school and sometimes you think you are the MoH because many others would not have been able to handle this process with her.  She could be a little blunt and rude, but you were used to this and could take the wedding craziness coming from her.  5 hours and two shops later she finally found the perfect dress for herself.  You couldn’t be happier since you had already spent two other Saturday’s out searching.    

Her fiancé Cas, thankfully had the patience of an angel.  They had met when Meg left for college in Kansas, he was a year older than her.  After graduation he had followed her back up here. Six years later, Cas finally got her to say ‘yes’. She seemed to be a better person with him around, a little kinder.  They would be good for each other and you were very happy for them.

Your love life on the other hand, was not so lucky.  Two months ago, you had broken up with your only serious boyfriend.  A night out with friends had ended in tears when trying out the new bar in town.  You had turned around in time to see a flash of Justin in a corner booth, walking over you found him lip locked with another woman.  You stood there shocked for a moment when the woman noticed you staring and commented on it.  A look of shock on Justin’s face as he quickly moved away from her and tried to explain  The rest of your drink ended up on him as you walked out of the bar.  Meg having seen the whole thing took you home and kept your now ex out when he came over to try and talk to you.  The guys you had been out with before him, hadn’t done much for your faith in men either, having made the choice to give up dating for now.  You were two years away from thirty, and had always thought by now you would have settled down.  Maybe that wasn’t in the cards for you.  

It was only a little after three so you decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home, this way you wouldn’t need to run out tomorrow.  You would be able to just enjoy a day at home.  Arriving home you pulled into your assigned spot and went to empty your car, you were one of those people who tried to carry everything in one trip.  At least the elevator passed yesterday’s inspection and was running today, or it would be a challenge carrying everything at once up 4 flights of stairs.  Although you couldn’t open your door with your hands full and keys in your pocket.  Freeing a hand you finally worked it open as the door opened behind you.  

“Need a hand?”  Turning around Dean was standing in the doorway leading to the opposite apartment.

“You don’t have to, half the challenge was getting it up here.”

“I know I don’t have to,”  As he finished talking Dean leaned down to pick up the discarded bags.  “Dinner for tonight or are we still good to go?”

“Still good to go, I just had an empty fridge and decided to hit the store today and enjoy tomorrow.”

Dean set the bags on the counter and started to unpack them.  Looking at the various items he turned to you holding up molasses and baking soda, “These aren’t your typical dinner items.”

“No, this is me getting a head start on what I need for Christmas baking. I know it’s the start of October, but December comes quick, and I like to have my baking done for my family’s Christmas party the first weekend of December.”

“You bake?”

“Yes, I actually really enjoy it.”

“So what all do you make cookies, cakes, pies maybe?”

Laughing at the hopeful look in his eye at the last item you nodded your head.  “Yes, those plus bars, and different candies.  Christmas I do the most, although not usually pie for that.  Different holidays or events vary, or when I’m in a funk and just want to get lost in my kitchen.”

“Ever need a pie tester, I’ll gladly volunteer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  The groceries unloaded Dean looked around before heading out saying he would be back at six.  Glancing at the clock you saw it was almost five and decided to hop in the shower to get cleaned up.  

There was a knock on your door right at six, dressed casually in jeans, a sweater and tall black heeled boots you opened it to see Dean smiling at you. Also having gone casual with jeans and a dark green henley. “Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yep, all set.  So where are we going Mr. Winchester?”  Dean turned, giving you a funny look, as you got into the elevator “What?”

“How do you know my last name? Been looking into me?”

“You’re Sam’s brother, right?  I kinda thought they would be the same.”

“Oh, yeah, true.  As for our destination, I thought I’d surprise you.”

You screwed up your face but just nodded.  You didn’t want to come across as rude to whatever he was thinking.  Getting in the car he turned to look at you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”  There wasn’t much you hated more than surprises. 

“Your face said otherwise a minute ago.”

“I was just thinking about something else, all good here,”  You gave him a smile before looking out the window.

A short while later you pulled up outside a bar you hadn’t been to in a few months. Quietly getting out of the car you followed Dean inside.  “Sam told me about this place, he said it was fairly new, but the food is good.  Have you been here yet?”

“Once, but I wasn’t here long enough to eat.”  It was early enough still it wasn’t too busy yet, Dean heading over to a booth asking if that was alright.  You agreed and sat across from him. After ordering drinks and food it was a little awkward between the two of you.  This wasn’t a date, what was it.  You didn’t know the man so it wasn’t even friends hanging out.  Not wanting to sit in silence any longer you decided to break it.

“How long are you visiting for?”

“I’m working on moving up here actually, I’m staying with Sam and Jess while I look for a place and find some work.  Then I’ll head back to Lawrence with Sam and we’re going to drive my stuff back.”

“Oh wow, like the mitten state that much huh?”

Dean was quiet for a moment before answering,  it almost seemed like he was having an internal battle on how to respond.  “I needed a change and my brother and best friend both moved up here. Sam and I were pretty close growing up, and it would be nice to be near him again.  My parents are still in Kansas but have talked about moving for a while.  I can see them heading up here if Sam and Jess are here, especially if they end up having kids. I guess I’m going before I get left behind.”  There was a sadness in his eyes that told you something was missing from his story. 

“What kind of work are you looking for?”  

“I actually was in business with my dad before I left.  Owned an auto repair shop and we specialized in classic car restorations.  Dad’s keeping the shop, but I’m guessing he’ll retire in a year or two and sell it.   Going to see if anyone around here is hiring for now. How about you, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I work at a physical therapy clinic in the business office.  It’s usually a nice 9-5 job, but we had someone leave unexpectedly in the front office so I’ve been filling in for her and trying to do my work too.  Makes for some later days.  Someone new is starting next week so once they are trained it should calm down again.”  

Dean was watching you and noticed you were doing your best to avoid looking around the bar, your focus either him or the table.  “Is there someone you don’t want to see you here?  A boyfriend I should worry about coming to beat me up?  What’s up?”

“No, nothing like that.”  Taking a deep breath you look up at Dean, “This place doesn't have great memories for me.  The one time I was here I caught my then boyfriend making out with someone else.  It was definitely a surprise, I wasn’t a fan of surprises before, but that was one of the worst I could have.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I should have checked the place with you first.”

Reaching across the table you put your hand on top of Dean’s, “No it’s okay.  I really should just get over it anyways.  It’s stupid on my part, right?”

“Not at all Sweetheart,”  Dean turns his hand over giving yours a squeeze.  “I understand to well how much that stings.”  Letting out a deep breath he continues, “I had been dating this girl for over a year.  Thought she was it ya know.  I came home from work early to surprise her one day and found her in our bed with another guy.”

“Oh Dean, I am so sorry!”

 He gave you a little smile before continuing, “It was my house. I kicked her out and put it up for sale, packed up my stuff and ended up storing it at my parents while I was staying in my childhood bedroom.  I just couldn’t stay there.  Got lucky it sold in a few months. I would see the two of them all around town and needed to get out of there.  Sammy, and my childhood best friend, Cas like it up here so I decided to give it a shot”

“Wait, Cas?  Is he engaged to Meg?”

“Uh, yeah why?”

“She’s my best friend, I’m her maid of honor.  I’ve met Cas, he’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, she’s good for him.  Takes him out of his comfort zone.  Good for them, me on the other hand.  I don’t see myself dating anytime soon.”

“Me either, I don’t have the best luck with relationships. I’m sorry for what you went though, you didn’t deserve that.”  

“Neither did you.” You both sat there taking in what the other had said. 

Dean spoke first,  “I wouldn’t mind making a new friend though.  Especially if she needs any taste testing when baking.”  

Laughing before leaning back against the booth more relaxed than you had been, “I think new friends are good.”  

Deciding it was time to lighten the subject you asked him another question.  “So what brought Sam up here?  I know Jess was from Indiana, not here either.”  

“After law school Sam had been offered a position in a big firm in Ann Arbor, which I guess is like  30-40 minutes from here.  Jess didn't want to live in the bigger city, she wanted to be in a little smaller town if they could.  She said they did big city living in California during college and could visit Ann Arbor, or Chicago from here.  Sam liked the idea of that too.  I think they are both thinking of where they want to raise kids eventually”

“This is a good town to grow up in, I did.  Why they moved here never came up in conversation. I’ve hung out with her and Meg before, and neither mentioned Sam and Cas were from the same town.” 

  The two of you spent the rest of the night talking and laughing more at ease knowing where the other stood. It was after 11 when Dean pulled back into the apartment parking lot.  This had been one of the best nights you had had in awhile.

Part 2

Thank you for reading!!

Tags  @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons​ @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278  @fantasydevil2002

[itsapapisongo]

Soul Nemeses! | WINWIN

Starring: Winwin ft. Hendery

Genre: Comedy | Superhero

Concept: Supervillain!Winwin (The Lobe) | Superhero!Hendery (Freakazoid)

Word Count: 2,786

Prompts: “Stop screaming, it’s just me.” + “I don’t think that’s legal, but we can work around it.”

Notes: The following is (1) an absurd short-story for the @ficscafe’s dialogue prompt event and (2) a writing exercise to get into a headspace where I can be as silly as possible. Freak Out! is a story I’m very excited for and this was a way to explore the characters and their dynamic. So, without further ado, I genuinely hope you enjoy this VERY SPECIAL EPISODE of Freak Out!

Taglist: @stayinzencity @mother-hyucker @lebrookestore @doievoir @du0tine @naptaemed

All is well in Way City.

Which is to say it’s really not and something is about to happen to disrupt that all-is-well feeling across town. Because a day can’t go by without some burglar, mad scientist, or supervillain indulging in their burglary, mad science, or super-evil shenanigans.

Thus we turn our attention to a deserted, discolored, and depressing city landmark: The Daebak Fair. Once it used to be the kind of place that burst with laughter and excitement, where money flowed every weekend and kept the owners’ pockets heavy and full. People couldn’t get enough of it until, well, they got enough of it.

So much so that it became free real estate for any villain that felt like using the abandoned fair as their lair. This changed, however, when Winwin decided he didn’t feel like sharing. He bought the place, and officially made it his holiday lair. And it’s here that our story takes place.

What once used to be a house of mirrors is now a workplace where a plethora of patented inventions specifically designed for destruction are built, reserved-engineered, dismantled, and kept out of his rivals’ hands.

With all the bells and whistles removed, the lair is quite spacious. Having decorated the place himself, Winwin has hung stolen paintings all over the walls and set tables for dissection, welding, engineering, and even, if he was ever in the mood, arts and crafts. The whole thing has Mad Scientist meets Bob Ross vibes and it’s both odd and endearing.

Winwin is currently dismantling his latest invention—a large crane-looking thingie fitted on the roof a modified golf-cart—out of boredom and frustration after being foiled once again by that red-wearing, annoying, ne’er-do-well freak of a nemesis.

“I can’t believe him,” Winwin grumbles, shaking his head for the nth time. Seeing as he’s alone, he says this to no one in particular. “I craft the perfect plan and he finds a way to thwart it!”

Who would have thought that Freakazoid would have convinced him that creating a gas capable of turning people into clown zombies to do his bidding would be the stupidest  masterplan ever? Winwin felt like he was failing as a villain, not challenging his nemesis enough. He had wondered then and still wonders now if he’s losing it, if he’s gone soft yet he knows he’s not, knows he hasn’t.

So why does this recent defeat grind his gears? Why has Freakazoid gotten to him? Though Winwin knew not to take their rivalry seriously, he sometimes did. It’s standard hero-villain stuff—to hurl insults and humiliate one another—yet something felt off.

He stops working and thinks back to their encounter.

CUT TO: HOURS AGO, IN A COLD, TALL, AND VAGUELY EUROPEAN MOUNTAIN

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Freakazoid had said, hanging off the side of a snowy cliff, for their confrontation had taken place in a cold, tall, and vaguely European mountain. With an impressive leap and a landing, he stood in front of Winwin and pointed a finger at him. “That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard of! People don’t like clowns, dummy! People are terrified of clowns! Ever heard of It?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—’tis a good plan!”

Freakazoid rolled his eyes, scoffing.“Nuh-huh.”

“Uh-huh,” Winwin replied, feeling instant regret for lowering himself to his nemesis’ childish argumentative skills. “It’s a brilliant plan!”

“No, it’s dumb, dumb, dumb!”

And then they debated like adults for a minute or two—

(“Nuh-huh.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nuh-huh.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nuh-huh.”

“Uh-huh.”)

—until Freakazoid clicked his tongue and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Pack it up, big brain,” he told him, not unkindly but definitely disappointed.

“Why should I? I already have a small zombie army at my disposal.”

“Small clown zombie army at your disposal.”

Winwin groaned in exasperation. “Yes, yes, that.”

“You’re doing this out here in the middle of nowhere. There aren’t even that many people around so I wouldn’t call it an army. I’d call it a small terrifying crowd.”

“Oh.”

Freakazoid nodded and crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side. “Did you even think this through?”

Winwin suddenly found himself speechless. Genuinely and anxiously speechless. He didn’t have an answer other than “I don’t know” and he hated resorting to admitting he didn’t know anything. He was the most brilliant supervillain in all of Way City—the Lobe, some called him—and admitting ignorance was (1) not on brand for him and (2) his worst nightmare.

“I don’t—I’m not sure—I—”

“Alright, you.” Freakazoid shook his head and gently guided him away by his elbow. “Pack it up. Get out of here.”

“But—”

“No butts, not tiddies, not ding-a-lings,” said the hero, his pout a judgemental feature in his face. “I expected a lot more from you. Clown zombies? Aiya.”

“I—” Winwin’s eyes widened and he felt them welling up with tears. “You’re right. I think I’m overdoing it. I might be overtired. It’s the best I could do on such short notice.”

“Turn off the cloud.”

And so he did. Winwin turned to see Freakazoid—lean, clad in red, black domino mask concealing his identity, his insignia that of F and an exclamation point on his chest, his black hair, slicked back as always, haswhite streak in the shape of a bolt across it—grimacing back at him. For a second, Winwin thought he could hear the world’s tiniest violin play a sad tune for himself as he pouted and got on the modified golf-cart he’d driven around the mountain to spread the gas around.

“Hey, big brain,” he heard Freakazoid call after him, the hero’s voice distant. He noticed it had softened somewhat. “It’s a dumb plan but I know you can do better.”

“Thanks, Freakazoid,” Winwin mumbled as his nemesis gave him a thumbs-up.

The moment was ruined the moment the idiot in red opened his mouth again—

“Now, git!”

CUT TO: NOW, BACK TO WINWIN’S LAIR

“Can’t believe I cried in front of him,” Winwin says, cringing.

“Yeah, me neither,” says a familiar voice.

Startled, Winwin squeals then yelps. A wrench flies off his hand as he falls off four feet to the ground and lands squarely on his bottom. He groans, and feels the back of his head throbbing. Opening his eyes, he blinks once, twice, thrice until he makes out the unmistakable silhouette of his nemesis looking down at him. Freakazoid couches and leans in so close, Winwin can feel his breath against his forehead.

“Stop screaming,” the hero says, “it’s just me.”

“Stop scream—are you serious? You nearly gave me a heart attack, you imbecile!”

“I know but that’s no reason to scream your lungs out.” Freakazoid offers his right hand and a half-smile. “Time to go upsies, big brain.”

Winwin glares, refusing the offer for help. “I don’t need your—” he begins but is cut off when he’s lifted off the floor. It’s both rough and gentle, in that he feels he’s taken several tight turns in a roller coaster without whiplash and is suddenly standing upright without imbalance. “Thank you.”

Freakazoid waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t mention it.”

“I won’t.” Winwin scoffs then wags a firm finger in a gesture of warning. “Nor shall you mention that I cried all the way up there in those cold, tall, and vaguely European mountains.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Freakazoid raises a hand, making a gesture that’s supposed to imply his discretion. He frowns then tilts his head with a shrug. “I mean I would dream of it so I might come up. Like, cards on the table, I might tell some of my dream friends about it.”

A beat as Winwin glares, turns to a camera that’s not there, and rolls his eyes.

“Are you quite finished?”

“No, not really—”

Winwin sighs and turns, picking up the wrench he dropped and returning to his work. “Why are you here, Freakazoid?” he asks, his voice laced with despondency.

“Oh,” is all Freakazoid manages to say. Winwin hears him clear his throat and take a step forward. “About that. I came to apologize, big brain. Didn’t mean to be, well, mean to you. It’s just that—” he pauses and the villain can practically see him shrugging. “—I think I’ve been a bit overworked too.”

“Was it your idea to apologize or was it Sgt. Qian’s?”

“That’s neither near or far.”

Winwin groans, doing his best to not roll his eyes or rub his face. “Neither here or there,” he corrects him.

“Exactamundo!”

“Did you come here to aggravate me?”

Freakazoid deflates, looking forlorn for a second before he clears his throat and the usual and insufferable aura of confidence that encompasses his very being returns. He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck.

“Come on, big brain, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s just that—” Freakazoid groans, throwing his head back like a teeanger not wanting to admit he’s responsible for some wrongdoing. “—it was such a good plan!”

Winwin’s eyes widen as he takes a step forward and squeezes Freakazoid’s shoulders. “Come again?” he queries. “It was a good plan?”

“I mean—duh!—zombies I can handle but clowns? Geez. Ugh. No. Nightmare fuel.”

“So you did like it?”

“Like it? No, bud, I absolutely, definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, love it. Let me tell you, Lobe, it’s—” Freakazoid motions he’s kissing his fingers then wiggles his left hand as if to say mamma mia. “— diabolical.”

Winwin feels warmth spread across his cheeks and immediately clears his throat, looking away to avoid giving Freakazoid any satisfaction or a glimpse at his embarrassment. He laser-focuses on taking apart a component from the machine, cautious not to tinker much with the cylinder that contains the clown zombie gas, and pretends he’s not giddy with excitement and validation.

Then, just as he’s going to turn and give him his thanks, Freakazoid open his mouth and yet again ruins the moment—

“It’s diabolical, but stupid.”

Winwin mutters angrily under his breath, every fiber of his being urging him to reach for that knock-out gas he’d been working on for the past few days—or, perhaps, that disintegrating rifle that has been gathering dust for God knows how long—yet relents when he sees the look of concentration in Freakazoid’s face. The hero looks like he’s seriously considering why he feels Winwin’s plan was, in his words, diabolical but stupid.

And the villain, overwhelmed with both anger and vile curiosity, crosses his arms, taps his foot, and grits his teeth.

“Go on . . .”

“It’s—how to put this lightly?—immensely stupid yet awesomely evil in that you didn’t think it through but it has potential to really ruin my day if done correctly.” Freakazoid throws his arm around Winwin’s shoulder, pulling him close. “See what I mean, old chump?”

“You and I are not chumps.”

Freakazoid gasps and pouts, dramatically putting a hand on his chest. “And here I was thinking you were my nemesis,” he whispers in a low, wheezing voice. “I thought we were soul-nemeses.”

“I mean—” Winwin blushes again and his eyes widen the second he realizes Freakazoid notices his blushing. “We are nemeses, yes, but we are definitely not chumps.”

“Could we ever be chumps?”

Winwin sighs, rolling his eyes. “I believe so.”

“Ah, big brain, I knew you cared!”

“Yes, yes, caring.” The villain nods and pushes his nemesis off himself, “You’ve apologized, insulted me yet again, and tried to be my, as you say, chump. I believe that’s enough banter for a day.”

“Touché.” Freakazoid smiles. “I’ve made plenty of shameless jokes at your expense today.”

“And I’m certain they won’t be the last.”

“You know me,” the hero blinks, pointing a thumb at himself. He glances at the contraption built on the roof of the modified golf-cart and a glint of curiosity and mischief appears in his eyes. Despite wearing a domino mask, Freakazoid could be inexplicably expressive. “Whatcha up to?”

“Dismantling this heap of scrap metal.” Winwin turns so fast that it’s impossible for Freakazoid not to notice the frustration apparent in his face. He smacks the wrench against the roof of the cart and winces when it slips out of his hand. “Damn it.”

“Here, let me help,” Freakazoid offers, guiding Winwin away from the cart. “I need some space.”

Before Winwin can protest, a gust of wind pushes him back. He blinks to see nothing but a blur of motion and a shower of white sparks moving around the golf cart. It’s so fast that he glimpses at Freakazoid’s silhouette twice before the hero stands next to him, wiping his hands with a dirty rag. It reminds Winwin of a mechanic finishing up a check-up on a car in desperate need of maintenance.

“There.” The hero throws the rag over his shoulder. “Doneso.”

“How did you—” Winwin blabbers, flabbergasted at how thorough Freakazoid had been. Every piece is laid on a table that hadn’t previously been there, each component perfectly classified, and all the parts that were supposed to be tossed away neatly put on a trash bag. “How’s that possible?”

“Come on, brainy,” Freakzaoid scoffs, clapping Winwin in the back and making him yelp and glare at him. “We’ve been at this for a while now. If I can think of it, I can do it.”

“That’s not a very reassuring thought.”

For a second, Freakazoid’s smile disappears and a haunted look passes through his eyes. “I know,” he whispers ominously. Then he’s flashing that bright and infuriating smile of his as nothing has happened. “Anyways, I gots to get going.”

That stops Winwin dead on his tracks. Usually, after some crime-spree or being foiled and getting away, Freakazoid would burst in wherever Winwin was currently laying low on, say his cheesy heroic lines, and promptly deliver him to the authorities—which was always, without fail, to Sgt. Qian—and they would call it a night.

Here he is, apologizing, acting like Winwin hadn’t enacted yet another brilliant and evil plan—even though he had deemed it dumb—and being overall far more obnoxious than usual. Yeah, something’s definitely off tonight.

“Whoa, whoa, aren’t you going to take me in?” Winwin protests and instantly groans when he notices his hand on Freakazoid’s forearm, like a lover begging their other half not to leave. He lets go and sheepishly clears his throat. “You might have thwarted me today but I still turned a couple of people into clown zombies. That has to be a crime somewhere.”

“Definitely a crime somewhere, but they’re all good now. All they needed was some fresh-air. No harm, no foul.” Freakazoid shrugs then grimaces. “Although, no, not really. A couple of people were traumatized so there was some harm involved.”

“You see?” Winwin cackles and offers his hand, waiting to be handcuffed. “Take me in!”

“Not tonight, brainy. I’m all tuckered out and Kun invented me out for ice-cream. We can do that tomorrow, though.”

Winwin opens his mouth then closes it, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. “That seems awfully irresponsible.”

“Oh, it is.” Freakazoid snorts, turning to leave. “But I’m getting some ice-cream and Kun’s paying.”

“If you don’t take me in now, Freakazoid, I’ll come up with a worse plan tomorrow and enact it without mercy.” Winwin poses, raising his hands above to display his collection of inventions and devices solely designed for destruction and chaos. “For I live to oppose you. So it is written. So it shall be done.”

The hero blinks, holds his chin, looking pensive for a second, hums, then shrugs with an impassive expression. “I don’t think that’s legal, but we can work around it.”

“I—” Winwin raises and lowers a finger, deflated.

He could reschedule, postpone some things, advance others before he unleashed absolute chaos on the city. He knows can make it work. It would be business as usual.

With a mental note to not start his rampage before dinner time, he slowly and painfully rolls his eyes and huffs, “Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow then.”

“Goodie!” Freakazoid claps, pulling Winwin close for a hug. “Ice cream today. Possible disaster tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Winwin replies through gritted teeth.

“Okey-doke, brainy. See you tomorrow.”

One second, Freakazoid is there. The other, he’s gone in a blinding flash of light and a gust of wind that vaguely smells of chocolate. Winwin is left alone, despondent, and secretly impressed. He sighs and rubs the back of his head, feeling the area bruised and sensitive to touch.

Giving his lair the once-over, he slumps on a chair and pops his lips.

“This is my most humiliating defeat,” he grumbles.

A minute later, he decides to call it a night.

And, for the first time this week, all remains well in Way City.

itspapisongo | © 2020-2021 | All Rights Reserved

Freakazoid! is a Warner Bros. property, all rights reserved to them and the show's creators (Paul Dini & Bruce Timm).

[jennagill]

Take a Shot at Love

Summary: Katniss is new in town and Peeta is her range guide. Now rated M. 

Part 3 is written for @promptsinpanem in the 15 Days to Finish Your Fic (For Kika) Round. Parts 1 and 2 on AO3 here. They’re short if you missed them in ... checks notes... 2015 and 2018.

Yes. I told him yes. His face brightened into a warm smile at my acceptance. We agreed to meet at the Club but that doesn't stop the butterflies in my stomach while I get ready in my apartment. 

Right now I'm struggling with what to wear. Practical over anything else. Closed toe shoes, high neck top, practical above anything else. I don’t want a rogue shell casing burning me. Besides, it's only a Sunday afternoon, right?

So it feels like a date, but I—and anything else in my head is blinded by the flash of someone’s daytime running lights outside my apartment. It’s just someone turning around but my eyes cut to the clock and I need to leave now. Long-sleeve turtleneck and vest with jeans it is, as I slide into my boots and head out the door. The drive over to the Capitol Hunting Club is mercifully short, compared to the growing list of questions in my head. I park and grab my bow and quiver with standard arrows before rushing inside. 

The main showroom is packed. Who knew so many people wanted to attend this event? How am I ever going to find Peeta in here? My mind buzzes as I scan for his face when a gentle nudge from behind stops me in my tracks. 

“Hey, found you,” he greets me with another one of those disarming smiles. 

He’s definitely cleaned up well. Gone is the safety hue and in its place, a fetching shade that matches his eyes. 

“Hey, uh yeah. This place is crazy busy. How'd you manage the day off from work?” I ask as my eyes roam the facility and catch a few familiar faces. “Looks like they have the whole staff on point here tonight.”

“I traded a coworker for a few Saturdays. It was quite the negotiation,” he pauses for a long moment, as if he is deciding something. “Ultimately though, I told him that I had a really special date,” he says as heat blooms across his cheeks. 

“So this is a date, then?” I say with caution. “I wasn't sure, so I'm glad we have that clarified.” It almost sounds like a contract, rather than romance.

“It's a date if you allow it,” he stammers as his cheeks reach beet red before settling back into his normal skin tone.

I consider this, weighing my heart, body, and head on the matter. I can only imagine the confusion my face must show until I meet his eyes and the fog begins to lift. “I'll allow it, though...having a first date on Valentine's Day? What kind of omen is that?”

“Truth be told, Katniss, I've been wanting to ask you out for months but never worked up the courage until now,” he says quietly. “I’m not placing any special emphasis on the day, I’m just happy to be here, with you.”

Well that’s hard to argue. “Okay, well where do you want to start?” I try with a smile.

“Shoot first?”

“Pardon?”

“The pistol range, then the archery range, and then the meal?” 

“Oh, I don’t… really know that much about pistols, my only experience with guns is the shooting we did the other weekend.”

“Oh I have a feeling you’ll be dead on with your aim and we can rent from the club too since I don’t own a pistol. I’ll run you through a safety briefing too.”

I keep considering his motives and his actions, if they are aligned or if I’m missing something as we move to the first station. It’s not much more than a series of door frames with walls in between, just enough for two people to stand closely with a shelf at waist height to place the weapons. I watch Peeta take aim at the ringed hearts on paper hung seven yards away. Blue, purple, and pink. Pop, pop, pop, goes my nerves and heart. The sound is too much on this indoor range with the pistols, even with the noise canceling headphones Peeta lent me. 

“Your turn,” he gestures and shows me that the pistol is on safety and pointed down range on the shelf. He changes the target out for good measure too. 

I take the pistol in my hands, forming the teacup he mentioned and squinting at the target. The cool steel chills me—I’m more accustomed to the warm bow wood. I flip the safety off and squeeze the trigger, taking a breath between shots. A crackle of electricity runs through my shoulders and spine as I finish my clip but it’s not the same thrill found in the woods. I take another glance at the target. All of the paper hearts are shredded.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Peeta asks in amazement.

“Thanks, though I think I’ll stick with my bow or trap and skeet,” I say, flipping the safety back on, placing the weapon down, and backing away from the shelf. 

Peeta sends another series of shots down range but I’m done shooting pistols for the day. My fingers are itching to get back on a bow. I go over to the archery station for some sanity while Peeta returns the equipment to the rental booth.

Red balloons are attached to the various targets on the archery range with prizes inside. Peeta takes aim with precision and hits nearly all of them. The slips float down to the floor to be retrieved by attendants. “Bullseye! Have you been taking lessons?” I ask casually. 

“No. I just replayed what you told me in my head, and well—I wanted to impress you.” A lopsided grin sneaks across his face and he shuffles his feet.

His honesty takes me aback. He says everything in such an offhand way and I am foolish to have suspected ulterior motives. “Well...it shows, you’ve improved a lot since the other day.” 

He beams at the praise and then it’s my turn to shoot. The attendant notices that the standing balloon targets offer no challenge for me, so he releases balloons from a ceiling net I had not seen earlier. At first it seems stupid, but it turns out to be kind of fun. Much more like hunting a moving creature, albeit a slow-moving one. Since I’m hitting everything he releases, he starts increasing the number of balloons in the drop. I forget the rest of the range and this date and lose myself in the shooting. When I manage to take down all five balloons in one round, I realize it’s so quiet I can hear each prize slip hit the floor. I turn and see the majority of the people of the range have stopped to watch me. Their faces show everything from jealous to admiration, though Peeta’s face is the brightest of them all.

The attendant calls for cease fire and I retrieve my arrows and prize slips—gift cards for the Club store and café, mostly. We venture toward the cake and coffee bar set out for this event. I wrinkle my nose at the coffee but notice that they offer hot chocolate too. “Oooh, that cake looks amazing!” 

“You should have a slice, I have it on good authority that it's delicious,” he says.

He's met with a raised eyebrow.

“It's from my parent’s bakery,” he shrugs with another disarming smile. “Red velvet cake, cream cheese icing, and dark chocolate shavings on top.”

And he’s not wrong. The dark flavors burst in my mouth, sending ripple effects down my spine. The cake and hot chocolate together give me a nervous energy, propelling me toward the next steps of this date. I feel like I could run 26.2 miles now, okay maybe just a half marathon. We both finish our desserts though I have something sweeter in mind. 

“Will you walk me out to my car, Peeta?” 

Like a gentleman, he does and he waits patiently while I put up my equipment in the trunk. 

“Katniss, may I kiss you goodnight—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish because it’s me that leans in, answering his question with my own response. His lips are surprised but warm up instantly to me. His kisses are warm. His kisses leave me dizzy with want. Amazing kisses. Toe-curling kisses. I feel a swipe of his hot tongue in my mouth and I know that I need more.

He must feel the same way since he’s pulling me closer to him and kissing my jaw and neck, or what he can reach around my sweater. His body is so firm wrapped up with mine, something I’d like to explore more in private.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be goodnight,” I say to the sinking sun and feel him pause at the shell of my ear, “maybe we can—“ deep breath “maybe we could go back to my place?” 

Peeta clears his throat and meets my eyes, “Really?” His eyes cut to the parking lot, realizing that we’re still in a very public place.

“Um, yeah, I don’t live far from here and you could follow me there, if you—if you want to, that is,” I manage, though my confidence is slipping.

“Heck yeah, lead the way!” he says and grins. 

“Okay, right, well let’s go,” I say before I change my mind.

If I thought the drive over to the Club was short earlier, this one flew by, my mind racing at the scenario I’ve just proposed. We’ve made it back to my place before I can second guess myself any further. 

He parks next to me and follows me to the door, “This is a great location,” he chatters as I unlock it, “I mean, it’s a nice place too,” and then he’s scratching the back of his neck, looking around my sparse apartment.

“Well… as you know, I haven’t been in town very long and it seems like I spend most of my free time out at the Club, trying to compete for your attention with others,” I shrug. 

“Compete?“ he laughs and hides his face in his large hand for a moment. “You don’t have any competition anywhere, Katniss,” and this time, it’s him that leans in. 

Our lips have barely touched when I ask, “Couch or bed?”

He pulls back to look at me and curls that lip of his under a set of very white teeth. “Honestly, Katniss, whatever happens, you’re calling the shots.” 

“Right then, bed it is,” and I pull him into my bedroom.

We spend the next few hours teasing, tasting, and exploring as much of each other as possible since Peeta only has one condom with him. He makes it last though and thoroughly fucks me. My favorite part is probably his ass. I remember checking it out on that very first day, and it’s certainly ample to cup while trying to coax him deeper into my throat or dig my heels into it as I spur him to the orgasms that finally give our bodies peace. My mind wanders just before we drift off to sleep, I just hope he doesn’t have an early shift tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Thank you @papofglencoe for the encouragement and quick beta skills on this third part! It was fun to come out of semi-retirement!

[cdt12345]

We've been friends many years but I've never thought to ask; Top 10 gay OTPs?

1.) Ian & Mickey (Gallavich) - Shameless us

What can I say about these two that we haven’t already said about them?! They are my absolute all-time favorite couple ever! Gay or straight. They perfectly complement each other, they love each other on a level I feel like I’ve never seen before (and I have watched a lot of tv/movies), they’re like a comedy duo, they support each other, understand each other better than anyone else ever will, they fell in love as kids, they bring out the best in each other, and they’re each other's best friend. I’m a sucker for opposites attract, who are also best friends. Gallavich really fits that bill. I wish they didn’t have to struggle so much to get their happiness, but I’m happy they finally got it. When they got married, it felt like the biggest victory ever! We went through those years of struggle with them, rooted for them, mourned for them when John Wells let Noel go after season 5. So much has tried to keep these two apart, even real-life circumstances tried to keep them apart. The chemistry between these two characters and between Cameron and Noel was so powerful, they were brought back to the show. That kind of thing doesn’t happen very often. When an actor leaves a show, they don’t usually come back as a series regular, let alone two actors who have already left the show. It felt like a miracle! I will never forget getting the news that Noel was coming back from you @luckyshazmrsmonaghansblog I was crying with happiness bc we wanted this for so long and I never believed we would get to see both Cameron and Noel back on the show. Or that they would get their happy ending outside of a jail cell. Especially after Cameron left the show in season 9. With their return we got a wedding, an entire season of them as a married couple, we got to see them dance with each other twice, we got them singing together, we got to see them start a lucrative business together, we got to see them free and happier than we’ve ever seen them before, and we got to see Terry get what he deserved after putting them through hell. We are only halfway through season 11, but I already feel so fulfilled with this extra time with gallavich that we were never supposed to have. JW tried to take that away from us. I will never understand why, but he failed. I am not surprised this is the one I wrote the most about. I can go on and on about gallavich!

2.) David and Patrick - Schitt’s Creek

This was everything I ever wanted to see onscreen, where there was zero homophobia. The pansexual character didn’t need to have a big coming out or tell everyone in the town of his sexual orientation, except his best friend. The gay character had a coming out with parents who loved and accepted him for who he is and was only upset that he felt he couldn’t tell them sooner. I dreamt of a day where I could see this kind of representation onscreen. The casual treatment of their sexuality was so refreshing and something I’ve been waiting for. There is no darkness or huge struggle they had to overcome to be together or a sad ending for them. They were allowed to be together without the major conflicts most LGBTQ characters have to go through. Once David made the first move Patrick was comfortable allowing himself to fall for David and start a relationship with him. He was so sure of his feelings for David after that first kiss, he never looked back and I loved that. They had such an adorable love story. Truly one I have been waiting to see for so long between two LGBTQ characters. They made me smile every time they were on screen. They are another of my OTPs that are exact opposites who complement each other perfectly. Patrick was welcomed into David’s family and blended in with them so well, even when he and David had very different upbringings. Patrick serenading David with Tina Turner and then Mariah Carey at their wedding is one of the most romantic things I have ever seen!

3.) Holt and Kevin - Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Captain Holt and Kevin are strange men on their own but together they are the perfect pair. They get each other in a way no one else does. The best part is their adorable fur baby, Cheddar! They seriously make the cutest family! I was so nervous when they went through a rough patch for a while because I didn’t want them to split up. Thankfully, they made it through and are still going strong!

4.) Will and Vince - Will & Grace

On the show's first run, Will and Vince were in a serious relationship and Vince was Will’s longest relationship on the show. They broke up a few times but were together by the series finale. The two reunite during the funeral of Will's father. There was a time jump on the series finale. Though I didn’t love everything about the last episode, I did love the fact that Will and Vince had been together for 20 years and raised a son together, who was conceived through in vitro fertilization with a surrogate. After the time jump, nearly twenty years later, their son goes to college and meets Grace's daughter, whom he would eventually marry. Though I wasn’t happy with the fact that Will and Grace didn’t stay close over the years, it did allow for their kids to one day meet, fall in love, and get married. I did like that outcome out of the finale. My family and I used to watch the original show, but we refused to accept or watch the 2017 revival because they completely changed everything from the original series finale. The second I found out they were changing everything; I knew I couldn’t watch it. They even wiped the existence of their kids from the first series finale. The revival was an attempt to cash in on the reboot craze and I wasn’t happy about that already, but even more so when they were going to break up one of my OTPs for easy money. Bobby Cannavale, who played Vince, has become even more famous since starring in Will & Grace. So, I already figured he wouldn’t be back for the show as a regular, but I know he did guest star. I won’t accept the revival and to me, Will and Vince stayed together, and their son married Grace’s daughter. THE END!

5.) Albert and Armand - The Birdcage

Miss Albert and Armand were the earliest gay couple I remember ever watching onscreen when I was eight years old. I have watched this movie more than I can count over the years. It is a family favorite that we quote often. Their son is planning to marry a girl whose father is in politics and is very conservative. They have to hide the fact that he has two gay fathers for one night, but everything goes awry, and comedy ensues. Nathan Lane and Robin Williams give a wonderful performance without resorting to using the stereotypes that are often used on gay characters, especially back then. It’s a classic!

6.) Stefon and Seth - Saturday Night Live

Okay, hear me out on this one! They’re not the most conventional OTPs on my list, but I really do love them so much! Stefon started doing a correspondent segment on Weekend Update on SNL. The first time Stefon came on, he flirted with Seth Meyers. The second he did I was like ooh they would make a cute couple! Stefon the wild party guy and Seth the serious news anchor. It was a match made in heaven for me. Before Seth Meyers left SNL to do Late Night with Seth Meyers, Bill Hader came back to play Stefon for Seth’s last episode. I didn’t expect what happened next to happen at all! They gave Seth and Stefon the ending that I haven’t even gotten from some actual scripted shows. I never expected Stefon and Seth to have this big ending, but I could not be happier that they did. I’m posting the link to the six-minute skit/ending and I hope it works. It’s worth watching. Though the video says it’s Stefon’s farewell it was really Seth’s farewell episode.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rj-wYWMdWNk

7.) Mr. Simmons and Peter - Hey Arnold!

Anyone who grew up watching this show already knew that Mr. Simmons, Arnold’s teacher, was probably gay. It was hinted at in the Thanksgiving episode. Arnold and Helga visit Mr. Simmons on Thanksgiving at his house and his family and “friend” Peter are there. Mr. Simmons mother says she didn’t know Peter was coming to dinner and Peter responds with the infamous line “There’s a lot of things you don’t know.” When Mr. Simmons mom tries to get him to take a woman friend to the ballet, he says he loves the ballet and Peter gives him a disapproving look and Mr. Simmons immediately declines. Those were enough hints for us fans to decide Peter was his boyfriend. Years later, the show's creator Craig Bartlett finally confirmed Mr. Simmons is gay and had them together in the 2017 Hey Arnold: The Jungle Movie. It was so exciting to finally get the confirmation years later, even though I was already certain of it for many years. I was happy that the cartoon no longer had to settle with vague hints about it.

8.) Callie and Arizona - Grey’s Anatomy

I was very happy to see a lesbian couple on prime time tv and I really liked both characters. I was excited to root for them but sadly as most couples on this show, their relationship took a turn, and I wasn’t thrilled about it. I was disappointed that it came to an end. By then I was already getting tired of watching the show. It was starting to feel like a chore to watch it every week. I tried to stick it out because I don’t like to give up on shows in the middle of it, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’m glad I did though because the shocking events with Derek Shepard, is something I’m glad I wasn’t around for. Anyway, I heard things between Callie and Arizona got even worse, so I was even happier I left when I did.

9.) Sherwin and Jonathan - In a Heartbeat

This was one of the cutest things I have ever seen! I wish this got the full-length movie treatment instead of a short film. But it was still a step in the right direction for the LGBTQ community. Gay characters in cartoons always bring me such joy and that was the focus of this short. A boy with a crush on another boy with a cute ending. What is not to love?!

10.) Mitch and Cam - Modern Family

Another show I had to give up on in the middle of the series. The show began to be less funny and more annoying to me. Another reason, that really has nothing to do with the show itself, that used to annoy me was that this show repeatedly beat out Parks and Recreation during award season. Parks and Recreation is a superior show when compared to Modern Family. This show won almost every year for years and it got really annoying especially when the quality of the show started slipping and they kept winning. After a few years, they finally stopped winning all the time. But before all that, I was a fan of Cam and Mitch. They were a great couple who I loved watching on the show. They were the best part of the show most of the time. But sadly, my annoyance of the show no longer being as funny as it used to be, was enough for me to stop watching.

[love-we-write]

Eccedentesiast

Character: RichyxMC (ambiguous platonic or romantic)  Genre: Hurt/Comfort? Friendship/Romance? Unbeta-ed mess is for certain Words: 4,188  Summary: Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind that light. But then, you appeared in his life.  Potential T/W: mentions of panic attacks   A/N: Done in conjunction with the Duskwood Secret Santa event~! Dear @anatomical-myocardium, Merry Christmas to you~! Sorry this took so long to post, I swear my laptop crashes on me at the most inconvenient time sometimes. I hope I did this justice as a gift to you, and I hope you like it, just as I absolutely love your gift to me~! Have a safe and happy Christmas~!  ❤️ ❤️

And with a renewed vow to write anything and everything that I want to write without minding if it’s a game, or an anime, or an anime game, or Kpop, here we go~!  ❤️ ❤️

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Richy is most known by his friends and all the Duskwood residents for his carefree nature, and he is very much aware of this. 

With his small group of friends, he has been the joker of the group longer than memory can serve, always light-hearted with that small touch of dry humor to help liven up the mood. From their weekly battle of Doodle Friends to their catch up session at Aurora’s, all seven of them look to Richy to brighten their days with his quick-witted comebacks and his lame jokes that gets even Lily - ever the serious one - to chuckle.

At his job, his bright personality makes him one of the select few who could talk to Alfie without unnerving the boy, and from greeting old ladies who pass by his shop to chatting away with his customers while he repairs their cars, everyone does not have qualms to admit that Richy’s easy-going nature is his most admirable trait, a warm relaxing ray of sunshine that comes out and give others a bit of cheer on their gloomy days.

Richy knows that his ability to not take things too seriously gives comfort to his friends. 

Richy knows this, knows it in the way Jessy thanks him for being there for her when she is frustrated with how Dan is treating her affections, knows it in the way Thomas looks at him silently yet gratefully when he brought them to Aurora’s and filled them with a copious amount of beers and stupid jokes for a self-proclaimed “pity party” after Thomas’ fight with Hannah. 

He knows it during the wake of Hannah’s absence when Thomas is on the verge of breaking down, and when Jessy fought with Cleo over how to handle the investigation, Lilly had reached out to him in the middle of the night,  quiet words of “I feel like you’re the only one keeping this group together,” mumbled into the phone in between sniffles.

Richy knows he is most known for his easy-going personality, and he is used to it. 

He is also used to that horrible feeling of uselessness constantly haunting him in the deep dark solace of his mind. That sinking in his stomach, the heaviness settling in his core as he contemplates whether he has anything worthwhile at all anything good to offer to this world, the constant feeling that he doesn’t have anything at all. It is a dark void spanning the crevasse of his mind that comes up in his solitude, whispering that he is not good enough, that he does not deserve grief and his fear is only going to burden his loved ones.

Because who is he to voice out his sadness and anguish when everybody else has so much on their plate already? Who is he to want to cry at Jessy to look at him, just LOOK AT HIM WHO HAS BEEN THERE FOR YOU when she is heartbroken herself. What right does he have to voice out his grief, his guilt at being the first one to come to Hannah’s house but still unable to save her anyway? What right does he have to say these things, when he only had lost a friend while Thomas lost a girlfriend and Lilly a sister? 

What right does he have?

So, Richy does what he does best. He smiles. He jokes. And he hides. He stopped trying to figure out the line inside him where his smile ends and his fear starts. To him, they all bleed together.

Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind the light.   

------------------------------------ 

 But then, you appeared in his life. You with your contagious kindness, you who are the one person who does not have any personal stakes with Hannah in this investigation but still decided to help out of the sheer good in your heart. 

Richy sometimes thought that you were highly naive when you said that them getting your number and bringing you in this group must have meant that there is something that you could do instead of just seeing it as it is; an ominous invitation from an unknown hacker. However, that thought of your naivete is blown out of the water when he witnessed your bright-eyed curiosity and your sharp perception. 

‘You like Jessy, don’t you?’ you had texted him out of the blue during one of your conversations when during the first few days after you appeared in their lives.

Richy swore he almost dropped his phone in his coffee when he read your text. No one has ever picked up on his one-sided affections towards Jessy, not even their group, not even Jessy herself who has been his close friend. 

He has always been wary of you when Thomas first invited you in. A stranger whose number was given to them by another stranger seemed to Richy like a well-timed disaster waiting to explode in their faces. Richy liked to think of himself as neutral when it comes to matters of your involvement; skeptical enough to not be desperate as Thomas but to the point of hostility that Lilly has shown. 

But with your eagle-eyed intuition, Richy realized he had to be extra careful with himself around you.

‘Uh, gotta go. Coffee’s about ready and I need that caffeine injection for my sanity, in case some more shit happens around here, haha,’ he had typed quickly, adding in several emojis in succession for some good measure. He puts the phone face down almost immediately, as if that would help distract him from your reply, and busies himself with work.

‘That’s okay. Coffee sounds like a great idea. The next time you want to subtly avoid having uncomfortable conversations about yourself, I have a list of ideas :D,’ was your reply to him when he checked his phone during his break. 

Mirth bubbles up in Richy, a feeling of familiarity and comfort fizzing up in him like downing cold soda on a hot summer day. Richy chuckles towards his phone, seeing as you really did provide him with a list of excuses to make to get out of conversation, each item sillier than the previous one.

Your entrance into his and the way Richy felt you seeing through to him feels like a breath of fresh air.

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

‘Richy, hi.’ 

 Richy smiles, looking at his phone vibrated on the countertop as he is pouring his third cup of coffee for the day. Seems like the weekend is as good as any for him to gather his thoughts to himself, to compartmentalize his feelings away from the crowd, but the texts from you over the days is a welcome distraction. 

From asking him about Jennifer Manson, to asking him about the phone call he made on the day of Hannah’s disappearance, to random conversation about your favorite movies or music, messages from you have become something he looks forward to daily. He found himself slowly thinking more and more of you; whether you are okay, what you have been doing among other things

‘Now, what more information does my lady seek from me?’ he types quickly, anticipating as the three dots beside your name blinks back at him. 

‘Good sir, is it such a crime if I just want to inquire about your day? :(’

Richy would be lying if he said that his heart did not skip a few beats over those words.

‘Our previous conversations would indicate that you always would have things to ask me after you know about how my day went, so out you go. :D’

It feels nice to see you playing along with his jokes.

‘Cleo told me you fought with your dad?’

Ah.

Not information about Hannah’s disappearance then. Which, to him, is much much easier to divulge.

‘That girl is going to get into trouble one day over how much she’s eavesdropping.’

‘I know. But more importantly, are you okay?’

Are you okay? Wow, Richy thinks as he stares at his idle phone. A simple question, but look at how he is struggling to answer. So he quickly typed in.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry, haha. Listen, the cat outside my apartment is literally meowing my window panes down, I better go check up on it before it eats itself,’ Richy began typing his response, as if him staring down the digitized letters will give him some form of epiphany over what the best course of action is. 

Excuse #12 from that ridiculous list that you gave him from weeks ago. From feeding non-existent stray cats outside his house to a car needing their tires changed, it quickly became an inside understanding between the two of you that this is a signal that he does not want to talk about it. 

But, inside, he wants to talk about it. Wants to talk to you about how this fight is a series of continuous disagreements between him and his father over how to run the family’s garage. Wants to talk about how this garage is not what he envisioned doing in his adult year, that he has no interest whatsoever in running the family’s business. How he had wanted to be a photographer, but was forced to run the garage by his dad to continue the family business. 

And how each time his father berates him over the losses their garage suffered due to the new competing garage in town, he feels a slight vendetta to bring up that he is never interested in what happens in this garage but is only doing it for his father.

He has long perfected the art of hiding anything of him that isn’t polished and brightened, so when you picked it up immediately, he felt flustered. Flustered because he doesn’t know what to do when faced with the idea of someone perceptive as you catching his vulnerabilities that he is ashamed of. But, also flustered with the fact that he feels a small sense of comfort that someone took time to notice the small things about him, and that deep inside, he feels some small part of him wanting to reach back out.

For now, he just added a bunch of cheerful emojis for good measure and hits send.

He wants to talk about it. He wants to.

‘You know, I don’t expect you to exhaust that list so quickly. I would have thought it’d be good for at least 2-3 months.’ came your reply.

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

------------------------------------ 

And it is true, you are worried for him. It has been close to three weeks since you first got added into this strange group, and if truth be told, you would never have thought that you’d be as invested as you are now. You could not deny that Jessy and Richy were two of the friends you never thought that you would care for as much as you did. You know that Jake had warned you over the group, and you ARE a bit more wary of some more than others, but you did not expect your trust to go wholeheartedly to this small trio that you have formed with Jessy and Richy. 

Jessy is the sweetest girl you have ever met in the world, always kind. She has this effect around people that made them feel cared for, and you are thankful how she had welcomed you and helped you out when everyone else seems to think you are the kidnapper.She wears her heart on a sleeve, and she trusts easily, but she means well. And Richy…

Richy is an enigma. On surface level, it seems that he is a bright ray of sunshine, all lighthearted jokes and wit, a perfect comedic complement to Jessy’s more emotional tendencies, but you notice the things that made Richy much more complex than he lets on.

You see his calm and composed nature when he is the one to suggest the group to think more critically in the case of your appearance and Hannah’s disappearance, how he calmed everyone down and brought their spirits up. But you also see his aversion to talking about how he himself feels.

Even though he does not show it, you know the incident with Hannah affected him just as much as it had affected everybody else. You see the sprinkle of emotions he has shown, from Jessy who told you how quiet he had been on the day his garage was spray painted with the sign of the raven, to his deprecating jokes about himself when you asked about the phone call he had made to Hannah on the day of her disappearance. 

You see that sliver of fear, that glimpse of guilt over those short moments, but come any closer and you could miss it with how subtly and skillfully he averts to more cheerful topics.

But that’s the thing. You worry for him. Jessy goes to the both of you for comfort while Dan goes to Jessy. Lilly has her family, Cleo goes to Thomas and Thomas’s grief is acknowledged and heard by all of them.

But who listens to Richy? Who gives Richy their shoulder for him to grief? Who lift up his spirits the way he does to you? For now, all you can do is put your phone close to your ear, Richy’s number dialing in the background. 

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

‘It gets better, I promise you. You don’t have to be alone. I’m here for you,’ you added under your previous text. It goes unanswered and your calls only gets redirected to voicemail. So all you can do is hold your phone close to you, placing your lips on its receiver, only able to hope that it goes to him, that his cheeks or his forehead feels the warmth as a sign that you are here for him.

Miles away, in Duskwood, Richy only stares in his phone longingly, wanting to call you. 

‘I’m here for you.’ your text that had him feeling hopeful, comforted and flustered him all the same.

It has been a long time since someone sees through him so transparently, heck, the void in him has bled together with his façade so much that even he himself cannot see through the layers of sunshine to where his dark insecurities start. He has crafted so many walls, perfected so many smiles that it even fooled Jessy, the person most close to him here in Duskwood. Perhaps at some point, maybe he even fooled himself.

And yet, here you are. Effortlessly breaking through those walls like it’s paper, unblinded by the fake shine he puts on, and sees the darkness in him for what it is. He has to laugh at that as he leaned his forehead on his phone, somehow feeling a sense of comfort just in doing that. What have you done to him? 

Perhaps one day he can begin to talk about it.

------------------------------------ 

 That day came sooner that he thought it would be. That night in December, it snowed heavily in Duskwood. Angry snow fell down in a furious blizzard, gusts of wind wailing outside in anguish, doors and window panes shaking almost in fear. Sometimes, the wailing picks up speed and bangs on the window with a scream.

Inside, Richy is just as furious, just as anguished as the blizzard outside. The man without a face seems hell-bent in getting them to stop finding Hannah and to obtain your location. Richy would bend over backwards and go to hell twice before letting your location fall in its hands. And with the search not showing any signs of stopping, so did the threats to them.

Today, it took the threat to another level when it involved their families as well. Richy had woken up with a call from his father. He had expected the call to be his father picking up another fight with him, but the urgency in his father’s voice and the manic sobbing of his mother in the background struck a cold chord in him.

It turned out that his family house has been vandalized with the signs of the raven, only this time it is worse than the one did in the garage. The windows were splashed with red paint, with papers jammed in their mailbox full of threatening letters of ‘give me her’ and ‘Richy, you’re next’. It took him a good two hours to scrub the windows clean, and then another hour to comfort his mother that this is just a prank pulled by some reckless vandals, to clean up the papers from the mailbox and throw them in the trash.

But, deep inside he knows it. This is not a prank. This is a threat to him. To them.

Duskwood is a small town. People will talk and come tomorrow, his friends will find out. He needs time. He needs time to sort out his thoughts. Time to properly compartmentalize.

He needs time to sort out through his guilt of not being able to protect his family from being terrorized from the man without a face. There is the fury with the fact that it has been established that the man without a face is someone within their circle, given how much they know about your presence.

He needs time.

There is the fear that you, being the lynch pin to all that the man without a face wanted from them, will be burdened more. He needs time to sort through the fear that he could not protect you, and even though it is for the best interest of your safety that none of them knows where you are, you are still all alone having to pick up after these seven dysfunctional people and no one to protect you.

Then, there is the confusion, the stress, the angry sadness that this is a game that he has to continue to play with his friends. The betrayal that one of them, one of his close friends is responsible for this, that they could have the balls to laugh with him, smile with him and turn around and do this to him. 

He needs time to sort through this anger and he doesn’t have the courage to face them and continue playing this game tomorrow, not when all he wanted to do is lash out at each one of them and threaten them and ohgodheneedstimeheneedstime-- 

In the solace of his room in his family home, Richy feels his thoughts become as white as the blizzard of snow outside. He hears his breath quickens, a voiceless wail stuck in his throat and he feels the shivers in his spine like the doors trembling in front of the wind.

Heneedstimeohgodpleasegivehimabitoftime----

And like a lifeline, his phone besides him rang and vibrated and he clutched it to him like a lifeline. Like a miracle in December, he sees that it’s your name. Somewhere in his blank white thoughts, he hears a small chuckle and how impeccable your timing is.

He answers and your voice in his ears sounded like a buoy thrown to him that is flailing about.

“Richy, I had a bad feeling about something. Is everyone okay?” and Richy hears himself laugh at that, a horrible mixture of a broken laugh and a hiccup and a helpless wail, all mixed up to become a horrible wounded noise.

Over on your side of the phone, your heart picked up pace when you heard that choked laughter from Richy. It is horrible and it is scary and you would never want to hear it from anyone again, least of all not Richy. He is having a panic attack.

“Richy, are you okay?! Richy, listen to me. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Breathe in, breathe out,” deep inside you tried to stay calm because that is what he needs, but even you feel like being on the verge of tears listening to this man - who has cheered you up so much - break down in front of you.

After he seemed to have calmed down, you tried again.

“Richy, what’s wrong? Please talk to me. You deserve to not be alone in this Richy. I see you. I see you smiling to get everyone to smile. You listened to me and you lifted up my mood when Jessy was attacked, and when I received threats over Lilly’s video. Let me do the same to you, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong?”

And to Richy, who has clutched onto your voice like a lifeline, who wants to share everything with you, just burst like a dam. Everything that he has kept secret from his friends, the sadness behind his smile, everything that he has even kept from himself and just swept under the rug and pushed into a closet at the back of his mind. Everything burst right there in front of you, from his guilt to not being able to stop Hannah’s kidnapping and Jessy’s attack, to him feeling unworthy of being sad compared to others, to his fear when he saw the sign of the raven in his garage and now on his home, his fury at knowing one of his friends are doing this, to his fear for Jessy, his fear for you. 

He hated everything. He hated himself.

You told him that he is strong, that you admired him so much, but he needs to see that he deserves to be comforted just as much as he has comforted everyone else. 

In that snowstorm-clad night, the winds wept and wept, but beneath its howl, you can hear the intermittent wail of a broken man as Richy cried, and cried, and cried. 

As he lets out everything, the blank white fog of his mind begins to clear and gain color. It started from the reds of fury, to the blacks of fear and the blues of guilt, but then your voice came in, and slowly the pinks of comfort, the yellows of hope and the purples of peace began melting through. 

------------------------------------ 

[EPILOGUE]

Both you and Richy sat over the phone for over 3 hours just talking about nothing and everything after his outburst. 

He seems to have gained his color back, his cheerful self almost back as he cracked his lame stories about gangster seagulls eating his sandwich once in his travels. Richy feels like this time, his color - albeit still a little faded - is much more genuine than the blacks filtered from a rose-colored glass that he has shown before. Your laughter as you listen to his story and object to its credibility, slowly made those faded colors in his mind more vibrant.

“Thank you for listening to me, for um… taking care of me,” he begins a bit meekly after he finishes his story. He’s not so used to being listened to, not at this vulnerable a level and definitely he is not used to being taken care of.

“You did the same to me when Jessy was attacked. And you would have done the same for me again, I’m sure of it,” your voice sounded like a smile would, and God, would he give up everything to see that smile in person. He laughs to himself internally. How has this person made him so whipped for her in such a manner?

“I’m planning on going to Duskwood soon,” you had said out of the blue, bringing him back from his reverie.

“Absolutely not. In case you forgot my magnificent show of tears just now, the man without a face is threatening us to get to you. You coming here is the absolute worst thing to do,” Richy snorted, a mock indignant and wounded tone from him that made you chuckle.

“Well, how bad can it be? If we keep my arrival a secret from the rest of them, and spend the days, just you, me and Jessy, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Someone needs to go there and give you a hug and take care of you,” you had replied back shortly, almost giving no thought to what you had said.

“Oh my, my lady, are you flirting with me?” Richy’s exaggerated gasp brought you back to reality, and his implication had your heart skipping beats.

“Well I mean… um…” you stuttered, and Richy swore your hesitance and stuttering made his heart soar just a little bit more in hope. But pursuing it is for another time.

“W-Well, someone needs to stop you from being such an eccedentesiast!” you had blurted out, extremely grateful that the distance makes it unable for him to see your bright red hot face.

His laughter after that sounds like the most genuine you have heard from him so far, and he might have said something along the lines of “nooo use small words, your idiot here doesn’t understand what that means,” but you couldn’t remember clearly. All you remembered was you thinking that you would give almost anything to protect that genuine tinkling laughter of his.

[robinofinashiro]

“turn it up it’s your favorite song / dance, dance, dance to the distortion / turn it up keep on repeat / stumbling around like a wasted zombie / yeah we think we’re free / drink, this ones on me / we’re all chained to the rhythm 

pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem! reader

request status: CLOSED

note: i start my semester this tuesday so like BIG SAD but I swear I’ll try and not fuck with my posting schedule or go IA for weeks at a time. i’ve also been having a lot of AoT reqs and as much as I love them, I get tired of writing for it all the times.

a few of the heroes were called in for some meeting regarding a hero incident that happened a few weeks back. you weren’t actively apart of the situation when it initially happened, however; they had called all younger pro heroes to a conference to go over some protocols and new rulings. 

you hadn’t been a hero for long, working under a few smaller heroes until the Symbol of Peace caught onto you. you weren’t working under a huge agency at the time, so when All Might called for you to transfer agencies, detecting that you had more potential under him, you immediately moved. 

it wasn’t an unknown secret that you were connected to him. although you weren’t exactly what many people thought when they thought of All Might having a ‘sidekick’ or intern, they could see it in your fighting style how much you learned from him. 

the charisma, the change in personality, everything changed about how some thought of you. you were more willing to talk to the media, happily attended events for kids, and a smile never left your face. All Might was proud to see your change as he realized that you had finally grown into the hero he knew you would become. 

you tapped at the notebook sitting in front of you, hoping that they called the meeting early. you hadn’t gotten enough sleep for the past few days, thinking that all of you were in trouble for the incident. every now and again, you would hear the winged hero laugh or crack a joke about something and it started to grow more and more annoying. 

the downside of constantly working at All Might’s agency was that you hardly had any downtime. you weren’t exactly close to many heroes or even associated yourself with them considering AM’s agency limited the heroes they took in and at the moment, it was really just you and another older hero that worked in it. 

“( your hero name ), you’re ranked in the top five, why don’t you give us a run down on how you approach the media in a kid friendly way?” 

your eyes widened, not realizing that he was speaking to you directly. you took a gulp before looking at all the heroes, “well, I guess you just have to make sure you don’t overwhelm the media with something that’s over exaggerated and dramatic. when trying to speak to a younger audience, you have to be a bit soft spoken, smiling constantly, and assuring them that they’re not in any danger. I know as heroes, it’s hard to remain calm in a scary situation but reaching the kids and having them able to listen to you can even calm yourself down,” you explained, “keeping kids safe should always be a priority because they can set a precedent for heroes.”

the heroes stared at you, some in a deadpan way, others a bit mesmerized. they could sense the All Might vernacular coming out of you but to a specific hero, they could see the way you were nervous around your peers. 

Hawks knew about you. it was hard not to hear of All Might’s current pride and joy. he saw your interviews when they came on the news but the one thing that stuck out to him was how you hardly ever came around other heroes when down time actually presented itself. 

you were very private with your personal life, something that rivaled Edgeshot. your personal life wasn’t very out there and it wasn’t like you tried to hide it because you could have cared less but whenever you did have down time, you were usually at home asleep or catching up on something else. 

finally, you sat down, staring down at your notebook again as you tried to wipe your hands on your uniform pants. seeing all those eyes on you made your hands get sweaty and clammy. 

the meeting ended not long after your small lecture and although you didn’t have anything to do after this, you were rushing to get your things together and leave before anyone that wasn’t the media caught up with you. however, that wasn’t exactly what you got. 

“hey! ( your name )!” you heard Hawks’ voice call out for you. you stared at ground, wondering what the hell he could want from you. you waited for him to catch up, “hey, you okay?” he asked, a smirk playing at his face. 

your eyebrows fluttered in confusion, “yeah, why?”  you whispered. Hawks shrugged, “just saw you getting nervous back there,” he mentioned. 

you didn’t know how to respond but you slowly started to walk towards the entrance doors, hoping he would leave you before the media rushed everyone walking out. 

“I got a bit nervous seeing everyone looking at me, that’s all.” “but you’re around the media all the time?” “Hawks, do you have anything to ask me? I’m just not used to being around people my age.” 

he saw the slight anger rise in you but decided not say anything as you gave him one final look before walking out of the door and being rushed by camera’s and reporters. a smile instantly hit your face as reporters asked you questions about the conference and overall general questions about work. 

Hawks knew that he could probably get an earful from you for what he was about to do but as he walked out of the doors, he went over to the cameras that you were talking too and gave them a huge smile as he put his arm around your shoulders. 

“good afternoon everyone!” he said happily as he saw your face contort to confusion and slight fear, “Hawks! are you friends with her? maybe even more?” one of the reporters asked as Hawks gave them a hearty laugh and waved them off. 

“nah, we’re just really great friends, isn’t that right?” he asked you. you remained wide eyed and silent, not knowing what to say, “we were just talking about going out for a friendly date and had to get confirmation from her,” he told them. 

you finally snapped out of it, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I gotta go! I’m due at my agency no later than three and I’ll be late if I don’t head out now,” you told the reporters before taking his arm off you and basically darting in another direction. 

the reporters looked at Hawks as he quickly recovered and talked to them a bit before telling them goodbye. Hawks had no idea that you were going to get that flustered over the small prank, realizing that he might’ve gone a little too far with it as you were no where in sight anymore. 

+

you got back to the agency, seeing a few of your coworkers looking at you were a smirk on their face. they instantly pointed to the TV’s, showing you the extremely failed interview you had with Hawks not even a few minutes ago. 

“so did you say yes to that ‘friendly’ hangout?” one of them asked. you groaned, your head hitting the wall, “no, what do I look like hanging out with the number two hero? you know I don’t really make unannounced public appearances to begin with.” 

your coworker laughed, seeing your nervous expression. 

“come on, you’re like the hardest worker in this damn agency! you could take one weekend off and enjoy it for fucks sake.” 

you shook your head no but before you could say anything, you saw All Might enter the agency. you instantly bowed as he waved you off. 

“he’s right you know. ever since you transferred to this agency, you haven’t had a day off and it’s high time you take a weekend off for yourself. enjoy your youth while you still have it.” 

“All Might, you know I’m a very in demand hero, I can’t just take off a week-,” All Might cut you off with a slap to the back of the neck, “trust me, we’ll be okay for a weekend. I know better than anyone how it is to run yourself into the ground. take this weekend off and relax.” 

you knew it was best to not continue arguing with your boss and silently agreed before heading to your office to finish up some paperwork. you had no idea what you were even going to do for this weekend. all of your errands, aside from getting groceries, were done and you were sure that Hawks probably didn’t mean what he said earlier. 

your clock out time hit and you huffed, telling all of your coworkers that you would see them again on Monday. they could tell you were reluctant on leaving them for so long but the break didn’t sound so bad to them considering you worked around the clock, 24/7 for them. 

as you got to your car, you figured you might as well make your own dinner since you couldn’t even remember the last time you did that. the only thing stopping you was that you hadn’t brought a change of clothes so you were practically stuck wearing your uniform to the store. 

the grocery store was a bit farther out of the city. when picking a home, you had decided to go out and choose something that wasn’t in the middle of town. you wanted some peace of mind when you got done working and choosing a home a few miles out was your perfect idea. 

once you walked inside of the store, you were happy to see that it wasn’t exactly packed. a few people here and there but most of them just waved or asked for a quick photo before letting you get back to what you were doing.

“hi, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of where I would find you dairy free options?” you asked one of the workers. she smiled, pointing over to the aisle a few sections down. you thanked her, walking over the aisle when you realized you had ran into the last person you expected, “ohoho, funny finding you here,” you heard the winged hero say.

you nodded, pointing to the soy milk, “yeah, All Might gave me the weekend off because of the ‘prank’ you decided to pull earlier today,” you murmured, grabbing the two cartons of milk. 

he laughed, pushing his hair back before grabbing the basket that carried all of your groceries. you gave him a confused look, not really knowing what his intentions were. 

“skip your dinner tonight and come out.” 

you let out a laugh, not really caring who heard, “uh, no. I think I’ll pass,” you said trying to grab your basket back. he sighed, not letting it go, “I’ll give it back when you agree to come out with me,” you growled, your head hitting the cold cement wall. 

“for what? what would I have to offer you if I came out with you?” “nothing! but like I told you earlier today, the fact that you can only talk to kids without getting nervous is kind of embarrassing.” 

you stared at him confused and pissed off. 

“you throwing insults at me isn’t helping your situation Hawks so you have about fifteen seconds to give me my shit back before we start fighting in this grocery store.” 

Hawks put his hands up in defeat, sensing that you were actually being serious about kicking his ass. 

“come on, just one night and if you absolutely hate it, you will never have to do it again. I already promised some people that you would come out tonight too.” your eyes widened at what he had said, “who the hell did you promise?” you practically screeched. 

“Mirko and she might kills us if we’re late,” he murmured, “now?” you exclaimed as he put down your basket of groceries, leaving it on the floor before grabbing your wrist and running down the store. 

you apologized to everyone that you accidentally hit on your way out, them instantly brushing you off thinking that maybe an incident happened and that’s why you both were running out of the store in a hurry. you grabbed your keys out of your bag and walked towards your car. 

“just message me the directions to wherever the hell you’re dragging me too and i’ll meet you there.” 

Hawks nodded, making you put your number in his phone as you walked to car slowly. you figured that if the plans Mirko had for the three of you was urgent, you figured that both Hawks and Mirko were planning on wearing their  uniforms to the event.

Hawks had informed you that you were going to meet him in the fancier side of town, claiming that it was just a small dinner all of you were going too. 

which was a complete lie.

once you arrived to the destination, you realized that this wasn’t a dinner event. this was a Hero Billboard JP after party event. you had heard of it from All Might considering he was invited but his agency hadn’t qualified to attend the event since his agency was purposely ran to not have many heroes in it. 

the reason why you hadn’t been invited was because even though you were high on the JP ranking scale, you hadn’t had enough years in your belt to be considered for the awards they were giving out. 

“Hawks, Mirko, I wasn’t invited to this,” you informed them, “I nor All Might’s agency qualified for this event so it would be wrong of me to attend the after party for it.”  

Mirko looked at Hawks before she chuckled, “you weren’t invited but who said you weren’t someones date,” she said as you realized what she meant. you turned to Hawks who was laughing to himself, “you’re going to cause me premature grey hairs,” you stated. 

you and Hawks walked behind Mirko, them informing you that the only way you could enter was if you and Hawks walked through the line of reporters that were crowding around the front of the entrance. Hawks saw your face drain of its color as the nervousness crawled up. 

he gave you a genuine smile, not really knowing how to help you before grabbing your wrist gently, “you’ll be fine,” he murmured. 

you nodded as the two of you approached the line and put on huge smiles on your faces as the cameras immediately turned to you, reporters yelling for your attention, asking rapid fire questions. you looked to Hawks, telling him you should at least approach one before they sensationalized what was going on between the two of you in gossip shows and magazines. 

you approached the most nicest looking reporter, “(your hero name), it’s nice to see you! you’re here with Hawks!” she exclaimed. Hawks laughed, “is there something going on here? first in the morning, now at this event? is this the way the two of you are going public?” she asked. 

Hawks chuckled, glancing at you quickly, “wouldn’t that be crazy? the number two hero and the number five hero dating? I guess we’ll never know,” he mentioned, grabbing your hand and scurrying away. 

“Hawks! that was rude!” you exclaimed, “she was nice and you just ran off on her,” you lectured, Hawks not knowing whether to laugh or stand there and get lectured. he didn’t have enough time to choose as Mirko and a few other heroes approached the two of you. 

“you’re going to give our new friend a heart attack Hawks!” Mirko yelled, slapping Hawks in the arm. he tried dodging her, failing easily, “relax, I doubt they’ll do anything with that footage,” you sighed, seeing the bar not too far from where you were. 

“I’m going to get something to drink, I’ll be back,” you told them, quickly walking away. you had no idea how to start up a conversation with them. you felt very out of place, feeling as though they were just stringing you along with them because they felt bad. 

“are you okay? you seem a little out of it?” you heard Mirko’s voice say. you gave her a small smile, “I’m fine. just not used to this kind of thing,” you admitted, taking a sip of the extremely hard liquor you had ordered. Mirko giggled at the face you were making. 

“just relax! plus, if you’re wondering, this is the first time Hawks has ever done this with anyone. it’s surprising to all of us that he even came, nevertheless with a date. Hawks might act like an entitled brat but I promise you, underneath those layers of entitlement, he’s not that bad.” 

you remained silent, not knowing what to do with the information she gave you. after the two of you talked, you walked back to the group of heroes, trying to engage with them a bit more. every now and again, you would walk with whoever wanted a drink, just to give them company so they wouldn’t be alone. 

eventually, all of you got a table, sitting and drinking with each other. you couldn’t lie, the alcohol was hitting your system a bit more harsher than you thought it would. the buzz was swirling in your head as you chugged back a glass of water to see if you could shake it off. 

“I’m going to get some air. I’m getting a bit stuffy in here,” you told Mirko as Hawks stood up, offering to accompany you. you gave him a smile, walking out of the side door that led to an unlit alley, “how are you enjoying the night?” he asked. 

you tried to steady your breathing, hoping you were able to calm the buzzing feeling down, “yeah, it’s nice to get out,” you replied, a yawn coming from you, “but I’m feeling the alcohol a bit,” you said. 

the rest of the time you stood quietly, leaning up a bit against Hawks as he let you. you had no intentions of getting this close to him but with the alcohol mixing with your empty stomach, your actions spoke louder than the thoughts your brain were screaming at you. 

“i appreciate you taking me out tonight. it’s not every day someone like you offers for me to come out,” you mumbled, trying not to look at him in the eyes. Hawks hummed, bringing you in a little closer, “don’t worry about it. someone had to get you out of your shell, right?” he asked. 

you rolled your eyes, Hawks lifting up your chin to look at him, “plus, someone as cute as you shouldn’t be cooped up inside all the time,” he added on. “reporters might think that you and I have a thing together if you continue to be this way,” you mentioned, trying not to get flustered. 

he shrugged, not really caring for what this round of gossip magazines had to say about your relationship with him. 

“I don’t care, let them think what they want,” he whispered as you brought him closer to you. your lips were barely touching each other, “but I get the idea that you might want to continue this thing we have going on,” you joked. 

Hawks nodded, finally smashing his lips with yours, making you a bit surprised by the actions. you returned the kiss, your eyes shut as you felt Hawks grab your hand softly and hold it. once you let go, you saw the ghost of his small flustered expression on his face. 

what the two of you didn’t realize was that as the two of you were in the middle of the heated make out session, a reporter who was on their way to their car had spotted the two of you, smirking to themself as he quickly snapped the photo of you two and darting to his car.

“so does this mean I’ll get a date tomorrow?” Hawks asked making you laugh. you thought for a moment, making him stand on edge, “text me tomorrow and you’ll have your answer,” you joked, running back inside of the venue, making him chase after you.