#and now they’re all stuck in a folder somewhere

[the-friendliest-freak]

.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Reasons why I wish I could (or would like to, if they’re out there, though I’m starting to give up on the idea as I’ve looked around a fair bit) listen to full episode of the Robins/James radio show rather than the podcast episodes:

1) When I did my full listen to the Howard/Richardson radio show in 2021, I found a download that contained mainly full episodes, so I listened to those until about episode 70. At that point, those full episodes ran out, so I listened to about five episodes in a row of the podcast version, while posting on here about how I wanted to find more full episodes. Then a very helpful person on Tumblr sent me a link to a folder with full versions of every episode. I decided that the completist in me wouldn’t let me just pick that up from where I’d gotten to with the podcast episodes, I had to go back to where I’d run out of full episodes and listen to the newly acquired full episodes from that point (of course I did – if I weren’t such a compulsive completist about things, I’d have gotten into the Robins/James radio stuff ages ago because I could have just picked it up somewhere in the middle – the reason I took so long is that I know when I get into something, I have to start at the beginning and go through all of it).

So this gave me an opportunity to listen to those five episodes twice – once the podcast version and once the full version – and compare them. And I did find that I’d missed stuff! Stuff in the full version that made me glad I’d gone back to listen to that, because it wasn’t in the podcast and it was worth hearing. I’m trying to think of examples right now, and all I’m remembering is the time when they had a discussion about Mitchell and Webb, which got left in the edit on the podcast, but the podcast version cut out, with weirdly surgical precision, just two lines in which they mentioned that Russell Howard didn’t like David Mitchell “because he bullied Paul Foot”. That’s, obviously, not the most important bit of comedy that got left out in the edit. There were some actual funny exchanges that got cut, I just can’t think of any right now, it was the Paul Foot line that stuck in my mind because that was what led me down a rabbit hole of trying to work out what he was talking about, which led to watching several episodes of an awful 2005 panel show called FAQ U, and I eventually had the answer confirmed by a 2006 Resonance FM episode that showed that Russell Howard had cribbed that opinion, like most of his opinions back then, off Daniel Kitson.

Anyway. The point is that aside from that, I did listen to those full episodes and would laugh at parts that were not in the podcast, and that made me glad I didn’t just have the podcast. It’s the completist in me. If it was ever broadcast anywhere, I want to hear every moment of it, and then to file it in a folder on an external hard drive and copied to a backup external hard drive with clear labeling of episode dates and numbers and titles and preferably further information logged in a spreadsheet.

2) The Robins/James podcast is really awkwardly edited. The weird voice that does their little tag between segments is jarring and annoying – something John and Elis themselves point out and make fun of at times, which is funny, but doesn’t make it less annoying. Also, it often feels like things get clipped too fast and the jokes don’t have room to breathe. One time the podcast cut Elis off in the middle of a sentence. I ran it back just to make sure I’d heard that right, that I hadn’t missed some reason why that made sense, but I’m pretty sure they just made a mistake. The quite large mistake of doing an edit when Elis was still talking. But I see how that mistake got made, since they frequently put edit points just the tiniest fraction of a second after someone finishes saying stuff. I don’t want to move on that fast.

I realize most things I listened to are edited in some way – I’ve never complained about only having edited versions of The Bugle, since it was never broadcast live, so I don’t expect the full discussions to be out there (though of course I’d love it if they did ever put out uncut versions, especially of their live shows, I’d pay if they started letting us have those for a fee). But The Bugle doesn’t feel nearly as choppy as this XFM podcast, it feels like the edits on those let a discussion come to its natural conclusion before moving on. I enjoy the filler bits, the parts where they move from one topic to another.

3) A couple of times an episode, John Robins will say something that’s clearly slightly over the line of what is acceptable to say on morning radio and/or of what Elis James wants to talk about when publicly broadcasting, not enough to get them in actual trouble or genuinely betray someone’s confidence, just enough to make things entertainingly tense. But those are the things that get left in the podcast. The podcast makes it sound like he’s got an expert sense for what is just barely acceptable, but I’m guessing the reality may be that he's no expert, he just throws out lots of stuff around that line, and anything too far over it doesn’t get put in the podcast. I want to know what's getting cut.

My evidence for thinking this is that I’ve just listened to an episode in which someone on Twitter stole one of John Robins’ jokes, so they were talking about other instances of stealing people’s ideas/work, and while discussing that broader subject, John said to Elis, “You steal you’re girlfriend’s…” to which he replied, “No I don’t,” and very quickly moved away from that topic. Normally when John Robins brings up something that Elis James doesn’t want to talk about, there’s a little bit of awkward amusing friction as Elis says “Oh we can’t get into that on air”. So this bit was really weird and jarring, and makes me think they’re taking out other stuff where the answer is “No seriously we’re not discussing that” and then quickly moving on, and they just left in this one instance of it by mistake and/or because it was too hard to remove without taking out the whole conversation. I want to know what stuff they’re taking out. Particularly because I spent some time last year being amazed that Isy Suttie seemed to have got away with stealing stuff from her former partner, and come on Robins, you can’t just give us a little implication that she’s involved in further sharing and then not elaborate. Some of us are trying to get through the weekend without alcohol despite working stressful jobs, and need some comedian gossip to get us through the day, okay?

Obviously, I realize the actual answer to this is that if I want to hear comedy that goes past the boundaries of what you're allowed to say on morning radio, I should listen to comedy that isn't broadcast on morning radio. But I've already listened to all the John Robins stand-up I've been able to find, and no one has paid to publish recordings of him speaking for three hours every weekend besides morning radio. So if I want to listen to what John Robins had to say every weekend for the last eleven years, which I do, then I have to settle for what he can manage within the format (Elis James is also a very nice boy and I enjoy listening to him as well, but I think even he would possibly admit that John Robins is the better comedian).

4) If I had completely uncut versions I’d end up skipping most of the songs, but some might be good, and I wouldn’t mind having the option to hear them. It sounds like the XFM music was better than the stuff 6 Music played, anyway.

5) Seriously, they cut Elis James off in the middle of a sentence once. Let the comedians breathe. I promise things are still funny if you give them a few seconds on either side.

[alicanta77]

Boys Like This

Pairing: y/n x Haechan

Themes: fluff, angst, badboy au

Warnings: swearing, mentions of smoking, mentions of sex, sexual harassment (one drunk guy gets a bit too close)

Words: 18.8k - this was meant to be like 3k max someone save me

Tag list: @honei-n (happy birthday bubs!! ilysm and i’m sorry i’m not there to give you the biggest hug but have this instead) @lebrookestore @ch3nj1​ @ridinhyuck​ @cacaubs​ @cheonsa1004 @tyongf-sunflower99​

——————————————————————————

If you’re looking for the personification of the bad boy stereotype, look no further than Lee Donghyuck. His legs were clad in ripped black jeans and on his shoulders always lay his signature black leather jacket. His usually bruised knuckles were adorned with silver rings and the cigarette that hung from his lips all made him look like the typical bad boy out of a cheesy 90s romance film.

As infuriating as the smirk that was constantly plastered on his lips was, and the way he insisted everybody called him ‘Haechan’ instead of Donghyuck, you couldn’t deny that something about him pricked your interest.

Maybe it was something to do with how self assured he was, the confidence he radiated in simply being himself and being in his own skin that made people almost resent him for it. Or maybe it was something to do with how he reminded you of every boy that your mother would warn you about when you were growing up, being told to steer clear of the boys in black, they would be the ones to break your heart.  Maybe it was the fact that as soon as anybody new arrives in the area, they’re immediately told to ‘Avoid Haechan, he’s bad news.’ And you weren’t the exception to the rule.

There’s just one problem, you never do what you’re told.

So when you were told to stay away from Haechan, you simply rolled your eyes and kept walking, you weren’t afraid of some bad boy. You’d moved around your entire life, your father’s job meaning you had to be prepared to pack up and travel wherever he needed you to, and, throughout your time you had heard of and come across every kind of character that there was in a high school. A few groups in particular always stuck out to you.

The jocks. Probably the most famous group and likely the first group that comes to anyone’s mind when you talk about high school. Jocks are an elite crowd, often very popular and normally find themselves very important. For them, high school tends to be the best time of their lives, sadly finding that this popularity and fear doesn’t translate to the workplace. Jocks are a large group as well, in fact, they often have so many members that they divide into sub-categories, usually by sport. You have the baseball team, the football team, the soccer team etc. and then these are ordered into a hierarchy apparently based on the importance that each team has to the school when in reality it’s down to how attractive/popular the team captain is.

Splitting off nicely from the jocks come the cheerleaders. Originally part of the same pack but grew in popularity when they adopted mean girls cliché. Therefore, in order to gain more power and dominate the school, they became a separate breed. The Head Cheerleader was guaranteed to be just as popular as she was bitchy, a stereotype that you were fed up of. What if they were actually nice people and felt as though they had to be rude cause that was what the “role” of Head Cheerleader asked of them? What kind of a place would that be? Anyway, getting back to the point, the best thing to do with this group, would be to avoid them entirely.

Then, usually the polar opposite in terms of popularity, come the nerds/geeks. You had never really been sure why this particular group was always picked on. You always thought that being smart and doing well in life was something to brag about, but then, maybe you just had weird opinions. They formed a cluster and stuck with it, whilst also managing to keep themselves to themselves. They sat at the same seats in class, the same table at lunch and never argued back. Despite their deathly awkwardness and shy behaviour, they were usually pretty good people. You just had to be willing to put in the effort to break through their shell.

Next come the artsy kids. This group can, once again, split into sub categories based on Theatre, Art, Dance and Music but that depends on the size of the school. Normally they just come under the umbrella term of the artsy kids. Very easy to pick on but are normally left alone. They’re pretty chill and mostly mind their own business, despite often being slightly obnoxious about the art that they specialise in. You swore that if one person asked you to go and see their one woman show you might punch them. You’re a broke student, why would you pay to put yourself through two hours of pretentious speech? Yeah, the artsy kids weren’t quite your scene.

Honourable mentions go to the stoners, the class clowns, the hipsters, the ‘I was born in the wrong generation’, the gamers and the punks. But there was only one group left worth mentioning.

Finally, the last stereotypical school clique would be the troublemakers, otherwise known as the bad boys and bad girls The commonalities between the two groups tend to include things like, black ripped clothing, silver jewellery, sassy attitudes and bad decisions. They never stray from their crowd, finding other groups too boring and stuck up for their taste. The cheerleaders and jocks attempt to pick on them, but it rarely works out in their favour. Instead of leaving victorious while dropping the mic, they often find themselves running back to their respective groups with their tail in between their legs. They like to either find relationships with their own kind, or play around with various people until they’re bored. Things are never too serious for this group.

So as soon as you arrived, you knew you’d need to find somewhere to fit in. You didn’t really conform to one of the many cliche groups that roamed this new school. You instead thought that people were a mixture of all of them, and shouldn’t be defined by a single personality trait, but that often wasn’t the most popular opinion. In fact, that opinion is why you often found yourself alone, wandering the halls by yourself. Sometimes people pitied you (usually the hipsters or artsy kids who tried to make you “find your passion”) but, to be honest, you didn’t mind it.

Being by yourself meant that you didn’t owe anything to anyone, and it meant that you could turn the school upside down and disappear without regretting a thing. After all, that’s how you left your last three schools.

---

You walked through the doors on your first day, to empty folders tucked under your arm as you walked towards the Principle’s office. You had barely made it five steps before some guys in a football jersey stopped you. He moved in front of you, buffing himself up in an attempt to look more impressive. You refused to speak first, instead just raising your eyebrows judgmentally.

‘So what should I call you?’ He purred, looking at you through hooded eyes.

‘You shouldn’t.’ You cut back, already tired of his attempt at flirting. You knew you had “new kid” written all over you and this wasn’t a genuine attempt, but most like rather a “welcome to the school fresher” and you weren’t here for it.

‘Trouble it is.’ The guy flirted, sending you a cheesy wink to which you could only respond with a groan and an eye roll.

‘God could you get anymore cliche? You may want to be a bit more inventive if you wanna impress me.’ With a quick tilt of your head, you turned and stalked past him to the other end of the hall, leaving the poor jock with his mouth hanging slightly open at your reply.

You felt a bit bad turning him down so intensely like that, but you also knew that if you didn’t make a strong first impression, you would be like fresh meat to them. And you didn’t want to go through that again.

---

After meeting the Principle, getting his painfully rehearsed welcome speech, then dealing with the three students who called themselves the “Welcome Committee”, you briefly stopped off at your locker to grab the text book that had been left there for you and place your empty folders there. You wouldn’t need them until your classes anyway. You picked up the textbook and grabbed a pad of paper that was conveniently left there for you as well and headed towards your Maths class.

You walked through the door, sighing in defeat as you saw you were one of the last ones to arrive. This meant that all eyes were on you and the teacher stood up and introduced you as the new student.

‘So y/n why don’t you tell the class a little bit about yourself?’ The teacher gave you a wide smile, one that you were sure was meant to reassure you but it honestly just creeped you out slightly.

‘Uhhh, sure. My name’s y/n and I moved here about a month ago.’ You sent the class a quick nod before attempting to move off to head off an empty seat at the back.

‘Ahhh come now y/n, I’m sure there’s more that you can tell us.’ The teacher stopped you in your tracks, as you let out a breath of annoyance.

‘Ok. I’ve never lived anywhere longer than a year, I like coffee and I’m done with this now.’ You quickly moved away before the teacher could stand up and make you continue. You slouched in your seat, crossing your arms and letting out another sigh of frustration.

You had just opened your books and prepared to start listening when the door swung open again. All the heads in the class, including yours, looked to see who would be walking in so late. A boy appeared, his honey skin glowing slightly in the morning sun that reflected off his leather jacket and silver jewellery. He probably couldn’t get more cliche, but he also couldn’t get more beautiful.

‘Haechan, you’re late.’ Your teacher snapped and you looked back at the boy walking through the seats. 

So this was Haechan, this was who you had been warned about earlier. You remembered the annoyingly cheery welcome that this group of three had given you, yet this preppy ginger was the only one who spoke. You were sure she was a really lovely person, she was just way too excited about the first day of school to not be annoying. Anyway, she’d told you about the groups at school and made a point to mention this “Haechan”. Her exact words being:

‘Let me save you the trouble, Haechan is the last person you want to get involved with here, in any way. He puts himself as number one and nothing and no one is going to change that. It’s in your best interests to stay away from him.’

And yet, despite your absolutely minimal effort to avoid him, this Haechan was standing at the front of your class, and you couldn’t lie, you were already intrigued.

‘Yeah I’m aware.’ Haechan retaliated, his bored voice bringing you out of your memories and back to reality.

‘Do you feel like apologising?’ The teacher asked, a very forced smile on his face. Haechan turned back towards him, breathing in as if he was thinking before responding with a smile.

‘Not really, no.’ He then turned away and walked towards the back of the classroom. He approached where you were sitting, examined you quickly causing you to frown at his behaviour, before he pulled out the chair next to yours and collapsed into it.

He slouched back into his seat, crossing his arms and staring mindlessly at the front of the class, where the teacher was still sending him the stink eye.

‘Haechan, did you bring your books?’ The teacher asked with the kind of tone that told you he probably already knew the answer.

‘Nope!’ The boy replied, popping the ‘p’ and causing the teacher to obviously roll his eyes.

‘Well, maybe our new student, y/n, would be nice enough to share with you for today?’

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at his statement. But you still shifted your textbook in between the two of you so that he could see it. Haechan sat up in his chair slightly in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.

‘Thank you y/n. Now let’s begin-’ The teacher turned back to the board and began the lesson.

After only about five minutes you realised that you had done this entire topic in your previous school. It had been necessary for you to pass the entrance exam here, so you knew all of this already. You huffed once again in frustration, dropping your pen and leaning back in your chair as you began to pick at your nails. Why would they bother to ask you to know something that they’re just going to teach you as soon as you got here?

You could see Haechan notice and begin to subtly watch your behaviour so you leant forwards to whisper to him.

‘Is there something interesting about me?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out.’ Haechan replied, his voice just as soft as yours was and yet you couldn’t resist the shivers that it sent down your spine.

“Well let me know if you find anything?’ You spoke softly, turning away from him to look at the ceiling as he did the same.

‘Haven’t you been told to stay away from me?’ He asked you, not even bothering to look back towards you.

‘Oh yeah, I got that speech. The welcoming committee was quite informative about you and your personality.’ Now that got his attention. His head turned, as he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, examining your features carefully.

‘So...’ He spoke, dragging out the word as he looked at you.

‘So?’ You asked, not sure what he was getting at.

‘Why aren’t you doing as you were told?’ He questioned, leaving you to turn back to him with an amused look on your face.

‘What makes you think I wanna do what they tell me to? They look as though they have the personality of milk.’ You groaned, remembering the fake happiness that radiated off them.

Haechan couldn’t help the chuckle that came up in his throat, unable to believe just how accurate your words were. Nobody in that school would quite be able to admit that that girl wasn’t drop dead boring.

‘Well, you’re a little firecracker aren’t you?’ He smirked at you, causing you to simply raise an eyebrow in reply. ‘I think you’re gonna fit right in with us.’

‘Who says I want to?’ You smirked back, now enjoying the interaction you were having.

‘Do you want to?’ He leant in closer and you could smell the mint of his breath.

‘We’ll see. Don’t want to give away all my secrets so quickly.’ You pulled back, leaving Haechan awkwardly leaning over half of your desk just as the teacher turned back around.

‘Haechan! Not only are you not paying attention but you’re distracting y/n as well. If you’re not going to pay attention you can wait outside until you’re prepared to take this class seriously.’ He snapped, and Haechan turned to you with a surprised look on his face, not expecting you to have set him up like that. He nodded, unable to keep the small smile from his lips and stood, walking swiftly out of the door at the front.

He leaned back in for one second, just to cheekily wave at the teacher who looked as though he was about to explode and it took everything in you to stop yourself from laughing.

A couple more minutes passed before you were bored beyond belief. You were starting to think that getting your only source of entertainment, Haechan, kicked out of class wasn’t the smartest idea you’d ever had. You were halfway through counting the black marks on the ceiling when you heard a very quiet tapping from behind you, You turned around in your chair to see Haechan standing by the floor length window at the back of the classroom. He was on the outside looking in and quickly gestured for you to follow him.

He cracked the window open slightly and leant in, getting just close enough to you to whisper:

‘I’ve played your game, now it’s my turn. Your move y/n, are you gonna live up to your attitude or are you all talk?’

With that he moved away from the window, hiding behind the wall as the teacher turned around again. You didn’t want to get caught sneaking out on your first day, but you also couldn’t stand the idea of letting Haechan win. Somehow the boy was an addictive kind of annoying, no matter how infuriated or annoyed you had gotten, you already wanted more.

You waited for the teacher to turn around and quickly piled up your books, placing them on the shelf under your desk. This was your only class of the day and you were in here the next morning so you weren’t too fussed about leaving them behind.

You began to get up but your eyes suddenly caught sight of blue haired guy sitting a couple of rows ahead of you watching you. He raised his eyebrows in question, as if asking if you were going to go, to which you shrugged and he shrugged himself before turning back around.

You waited until the girl at the front had finished asking her question and, when the teacher turned back to the front to go through the example on the board again, you made your move. You quickly pushed your chair back, relieved when it didn’t make a sound and climbed out of the window. You pulled it gently shut behind you and turned to left, finding yourself face to face with Haechan.

‘Wow, for a minute then I didn’t think you’d have the balls.’ He grinned at you, pulling you out of sight of the class as you began to walk away.

‘Well as you can clearly see, I do. So what now?’ You replied, unable to stop yourself from grinning back.

‘Now we have some fun.’ Haechan said, the smile he sent you this time was the opposite of innocent and it made your heart pump.

This was someone you would enjoy causing trouble with.

---

The two of you decided that leaving the school and skiving on the first day was a bit too cliche and unoriginal, so instead you came up with the idea that, no matter what you guys did, it had to be on school grounds.

‘Interesting...’ Haechan mused, the smirk that you were already familiar with gracing his delicate features. ‘So we cause as much chaos as we like, and do what we like, but there’s a much higher risk of getting caught...’

‘Exactly.’ You clarified. ‘But we can leave for lunch though! I want McDonalds.’ You quickly added, Haechan laughing slightly at your expression.

‘Agreed. So we’ll have our fun here, then head to McDonalds for lunch. Tell you what, why don’t we leave a little earlier than the lunch break so that we avoid bumping into the rest of the students?’ Haechan watched as you nodded in agreement.

You allowed your gaze to drift around the unfamiliar halls until your eyes came to rest on the smoke detector on the wall. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. It was stupid, reckless and if you got caught you would be in serious trouble. Sounds ideal.

‘Hey Haechan?’ You began, turning towards him with a grin on your face.

‘Yeah?’ He answered, a grin appearing on his own. He didn’t know what you were planning but he knew it would be interesting.

‘Have you ever set off the fire alarm?’ You asked, raising an eyebrow as his furrowed in thought.

‘Like falsely pulled it? Yeah.’ He admitted, nodding like it was no big deal, but you shook your head.

‘No, not falsely pulled, actually set it off.’ You watched as his jaw dropped slightly and he shook his head. 'Yeah, neither.’ You told him, before looking away. He followed your gaze to see the smoke detector on the wall.

You both turned back to each other.

‘Well...’ Haechan began, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’

---

The alarm blared through the school as you and Hyuck laughed to yourself as the school emptied.

‘No talking!’ A teacher behind you barked, causing the two of you to roll your eyes in sync. Why you had to walk silently during a fire alarm you would never know. If the school was actually on fire you would be sprinting out of it swearing at the top of your lungs, not walking silently in an orderly fashion.

The two of you had had to find a way to set off the alarm, so you put your heads together. Neither of you had managed to come up with anything that wouldn’t get you caught, and you were about to give up when you noticed the cigarettes in Haechan’s pocket. Now that gave you an idea.

You had lit the cigarette and, with Haechan supporting you from beneath as you sat on his shoulders, managed to stuff it inside the fire alarm. You gently blowed on it, to make sure it was lit and there was smoke coming off it and suddenly the alarm blared throughout the school. You then proceeded to slip off his shoulders, him catching you easily in his arms and you both quickly moved into your respective bathrooms.

You stood by the door and counted to five before opening the bathroom door and leaving again. You’d noticed the men’s bathroom door next to you open and Haechan walked out. The two of you blended seamlessly into the crowd of students as they made their way out to the assembly point.

You had decided to hide in the bathroom for a couple of seconds so that neither of you were spotted underneath the fire alarm. You thought that if they noticed the bad boy and the new girl under the fire alarm that ended up having a cigarette stuck in it, the game would be over before it had even properly begun.

Students poured out of the doors of the school, lining up cleanly and efficiently on the sports pitches. You were standing in sections, divided by years and then each class split into lines. You faced your teacher at the front as they called out student’s names from the register.

‘Here.’ You spoke out as you heard your name, a similar call coming from your partner in crime behind you as his name was called. You turned around to face him. ‘Lee Donghyuck?’ You raised a teasing eyebrow.

‘Yep, that’s my real name.’ He replied, looking down at you.

‘So, can I ask then, why Haechan? Donghyuck’s a nice name.’ You wondered, tilting your head out of curiosity. 

Haechan opened his mouth to answer but before he could, a boy who you recognised from your Maths class came up to the two of you.

‘Already corrupting the new kid Hyuck?’ He joked, a large smile on his face. 

‘Trust me man, she barely needs corrupting.’ Haechan replied, laughing at his friend. ‘Y/n, this is Jaemin, he’s one of my closest friends.’

Jaemin flashed you a smile that you swore almost blinded you. You shook his outstretched hand and returned his smile with one of your own.

‘I’ve gotta say, I was impressed to see you follow him out of that window y/n. It looks like you’ve got some guts.’ Jaemin spoke, his face showing how he was clearly surprised. ‘And I’m guessing from what happened in Maths that this fire alarm may have something to do with the two of you?’

You and Haechan shared a grin and that small action told Jaemin all he needed to know. Jaemin laughed in disbelief, muttering something about how exciting the rest of the year was going to be if this was how you were acting on the first day. You couldn’t quite hear him though, your attention focused on the way that Haechan studied the features on your face, with such intensity you would think he was never going to see them again.

You spent the time making conversation with Jaemin and Haechan, getting to know the two boys, but your attention was drawn away from them when a fire engine made its way into the school gates. All the conversation surrounding you dwindled to a stop as one student asked what was going on.

‘Since there was no fire drill scheduled for today, we needed to call the fire department to determine what caused the alarm to go off.’ Your teacher explained.

The three of you looked at each other in disbelief, all of you unable to stop yourselves from giggling at the chaos you’d caused. You couldn’t help but think that Jaemin had been right. If this was day one, who knew what adventures this year would bring you? You’d never liked a place so quickly like you had here. Maybe for the first time in your life, you’d found somewhere you could actually see yourself staying.

You didn’t want to let yourself get your hopes up though. You had only been in this city a short while, and your father’s job would always mean that you had to move by this time next year. You couldn’t afford to get comfortable.

The boys watched as the firefighters entered the building, attempting to determine what caused the alarm to go off. It didn’t take long before they emerged with one of them holding a small plastic bag. A bad that you assumed that had the cigarette in. The teachers came into a small circle to have a short conversation before turning back to the waiting students.

The Principle suddenly stepped forward, immediately commanding attention from every student present as he began to speak.

‘This fire alarm was no drill. Nor was it an accident. We have evidence that it was set off on purpose and I seriously suggest that anyone who knows anything about how this happens steps forward. Do not make this any worse for you than it already is.’

With that, he turned, and made his way back into the school. An uneasy silence lay over all the students. You teacher walked back over to your group and spoke to the rest of you there.

‘Since it’s so close to lunch, we’ve decided to let you go early. But-’ They raised their voice as everyone began to move off. ‘This incident will not be taken lightly. To anybody who may have been involved, it is in your best interest to own up to it.’

You noticed their eyes were fixated on Haechan, and how they narrowed slightly. They seemed to fully believe that Haechan was involved with setting off the alarm.

‘They always assume it’s me. Whenever anything happens.’ He whispered into your ear and you nodded in understanding. ‘So... McDonalds?’

---

Haechan pulled back into the school grounds after your trip for lunch, Jaemin jumped out of the car and waved at the two of you before heading back into the building. While you and Haechan had a free afternoon, Jaemin didn’t, so, after some begging and bribing on Jaemin’s part, Haechan begrudgingly agreed to drop him off.

You turned back around to Haechan, wondering if you should propose to do something together, or if he was bored of you and had other things he’d rather be doing. However, before you had the chance to make up your mind, Haechan spoke for you.

‘I know where to go now.’ And with that he was off, driving out of the gates and off down the road. You couldn’t help but notice how good of a driver he was, always managing to keep his awareness on the road even when he was talking to you. 

Haechan fumbled for something down near his feet, letting out a happy giggle when he found it and pulled out an AUX cord. He offered it to you, telling you to put something on the speakers.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his offer, considering he’d adamantly refused to let Jaemin play any of his music on the way to grab lunch, instead choosing to listen to the radio.

‘Already letting me choose the music? Damn, I feel special.’ You teased as Haechan laughed.

‘Just don’t play that song and we’ll be good.’ He looked over for a split second, noticing your offended face and quickly continued. ‘It’s a good song, don’t get me wrong, but all Jaemin plays is girl groups and you reach a limit of how many times you can hear a grown ass boy with blue hair sing Feel Special.’

You looked down at your phone, chuckling to yourself at Haechan’s story. You scrolled through your Spotify to find a good playlist, eventually settling on your driving music one. ‘What You Know’ by ‘Two Door Cinema Club’ started to blare through the speakers.

Haechan nodded, his fingers immediately tapping on the steering wheel in time to the song.

‘Good song!’ He complimented smiling at you as you gasped over-dramatically.

‘Ahhhh, Haechan likes my music taste! I have officially won at life!’ You placed one hand on your heart to emphasise your point as Haechan rolled his eyes, laughing at you. ‘Where are we going by the way?’ You asked, looking out of the window and realising you had no idea where you were. You were still new to the area so you hadn’t got everywhere memorised yet.

‘We’re almost there, don't worry.’ He replied, not giving you an answer in the slightest. You leaned back into your seat, accepting that he wasn’t going to tell you and just listened as Haechan began to sing gently along to the song. You were surprised by his voice, it was soothing and honey-like, the opposite of his image.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, secretly enjoying listening to his voice more than the music.

---

You were standing behind Haechan in a quiet little coffee shop, looking at everything on the menu. Everything looked so amazing you could feel your mouth watering just from looking at the display cakes. 

‘Any idea what you want?’ Haechan asked over his shoulder as you nodded.

‘I’m gonna get the Caramel Frap and a muffin of some kind.’ You replied. ‘What about you?’

‘Doubleshot Vanilla iced Coffee and a brownie. You gonna have coffee in your frap?’ He answered, moving forwards in the line as the person in front of you finished.

‘Always!!!’ You answered in a sing-song voice as Haechan rolled his eyes muttering something about you being as bad as Jaemin.

He stepped up to the counter and gave the cashier a friendly smile.

‘Hi, please can I get one large Caramel Frap with coffee and whip, one large Doubleshot Vanilla iced Coffee, one brownie and-’

‘Whoa what? It’s okay I can pay for myself.’ You interrupted him but he brushed you off.

‘Nah it’s fine, this is on me. And one peanut and banana muffin please?’ He finished the order and your eyes widened at his choice. ‘All the muffins here are good.’ He explained turning back to you.

‘Haechan I-’ You began, slightly in a panic.

‘Y/n, I told you I’m paying.’ He insisted but you continued.

‘Seriously I can’t-’ You stuttered, desperately trying to get your point across.

‘For the last time, y/n I am paying!’ He cut you off again.

‘No! I’m allergic to peanuts...’ You hurriedly told him and watched as his expression morphed into one of utter dread.

‘Oh god.’ He mumbled before turning around and almost throwing himself across the counter in an attempt to correct his order to a white chocolate and raspberry muffin. He turned back to you with the treats in his hand and gave you a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay, you didn’t know.’ You laughed, looking down at the muffin in your hand that smelt absolutely delicious.

It didn’t take long before your drinks had arrived and Haechan hurried you back into his car, claiming there was one more place he wanted to show you.

---

You were sitting on a bench in a deserted area of the park. Haechan had explained that if you wanted privacy, to come down here as people normally don’t bother to walk this far. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket, offering you one which you refused, before lighting his own.

‘It’s always worth it though. The tranquility that you get just from being a little further out.’ He looked sideways at you, tilting his head when he saw your confused expression. ‘What?’

‘Nothing it’s just... Why are you telling me all this? I mean I was told that you were aloof, never telling anyone but a close few details about yourself, keeping everything a mystery and yet here you are. With me, someone you’ve known now for about five hours and so far we’ve skived Maths, set off the fire alarm, brought the fire brigade to school, bought McDonalds, grabbed a coffee, almost killed me and now you’re talking to me about tranquility. You just... It doesn’t seem like something you’d do with someone you just met.’ You admitted, shrugging your shoulders as you finished.

Haechan looked away from you for a second, taking a drag from his cigarette before he faced you again to answer your question.

‘Well, I guess the only thing to say to that is, not all rumours are true. And yes, you have a point, not a lot of people sit and talk about tranquility with someone they just met, but not a lot of people get into trouble worthy of suspension on the first day. And even less of those people are willing to do it with me. Maybe that has something to do with it.’

‘Tell me something, then. Which rumours are true?’ You challenged.

‘Some of them.’ Haechan admitted. ‘I do smoke, I do cause trouble, I did sleep around quite a bit, and yeah, I hurt some people in the process. And also, yes, I didn’t really care that much. But the one thing I never did was lie to anyone or give them the impression that it was ever something more than just one night. That’s why I was “unsympathetic” to anyone. They knew what they were getting into so why is it my fault that they couldn’t handle it?’

Your jaw dropped slightly, not expecting that kind of answer. You mumbled a quick ‘fair point’ and turned your gaze back to the scenery. The river in front of you flowed gently, coursing it’s own way through life, the sun reflected off the constantly moving waves, casting flecks of light to dance across yours and Haechan’s bodies.

‘But I don’t think I’m gonna be doing that again. It makes you feel kinda empty, like you’re searching for something but anytime you come close to possibly having a chance at finding it, you take it away from yourself. Do you see that up there?’ Haechan changed the topic suddenly, pointing to a cliff edge in between the trees. You squinted slightly, trying to get a look at it, but it was difficult to see through the leaves.

‘Yeah, I think so. What’s up there?’ You asked, turning your body towards him as he grinned.

‘Real tranquility. If you ever want to properly get away, that’s where you go.’ He told you and you looked back. ‘From up there you can see the whole city.’

‘But how do you get up there?’ You wondered and Haechan simply winked in response, tapping his nose twice to signal that he wasn’t going to tell you. ‘Will you ever actually tell me anything when I ask?’

‘We’ll see princess, we’ll see.’ Haechan grinned, turning back to the river but at some point having moved closer to you, so close that your legs were almost touching.

Your heart was pounding, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the nickname or the close proximity of the two of, or both. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you had a strong suspicion it was the latter.

---

Before you knew it, another month had passed in your new city and you weren’t feeling so much like the obnoxiously new kid. You knew your way around without getting lost, your professors had started to get to know you and stopped treating you like you were made of glass because you were new, and you had a good group of people around you.

Haechan had easily become your closest friend, his constant teasing covered a layer of love that it took him a while to show to you. But once he did, you were constantly smothered by his affections. And if Haechan wasn’t smothering you, then Jaemin would be. Once you got to know him, Jaemin was almost too nice for his own good, his caring and loving nature making him a very easy person to get along with. There was never an awkward moment between the two of you and already, he felt like a friend you’d known for years.

Apart from those two, you had also become friendly with Momo from your sports class, Hyunjin from Chemistry, Siyeon from History and Dino from Music. But none of them really held a candle to how close you were with Haechan.

You found yourself spending most of your time with Haechan, Jaemin often came too but you realised pretty quickly after befriending him that, wherever you were, Haechan would find a way to be there too.

Your friendship hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the school either. In fact, you were surprised by how quickly it had gone around that the two of you were close. The day after you had gone out for a coffee, you had walked into school to be greeted with confused stares and hushed whispers surrounding you everywhere you went.

You did your best to just ignore them, you told yourself you couldn’t care less what people here thought of you, it wasn’t as if you would be here for long anyway. Their whispers and accusations sometimes got to you slightly, but every time you finished your classes and saw Haechan waiting for you with his sunshine smile, you found all your worries melting off you.

You had always met some pretty cool people wherever you went, but you had never met anyone quite like Haechan, nor had you ever expected to. You already knew that he was something you would miss about this town when you inevitably left.

‘Bye Dad!’ You shouted through your house, a similar response coming from his study as you walked out of the front door. Even though you didn’t have class until late morning on a Tuesday, you and Haechan made it a tradition to grab a coffee together before it started.

And as you turned around there he was. Leaning out of the open window of his car grinning at you.

You smiled back in greeting, before climbing into the passenger seat, grabbing that aux cable he had offered you, and setting down as he took off.

Haechan had officially entrusted you with the music, naming you the car DJ much to Jaemin’s discontent. You were often on the receiving end of his whiny complaints about the injustice and unfair treatment he was getting.

Haechan pulled into the street that your favourite bakery was one, parking his car swiftly before you both made you way into the shop. You had arrived a little later than usual due to traffic, so you quickly approached the counter.

You leant forwards, catching the barista’s attention and gave them a smile before telling them your order.

‘Hi! Please can I have one Caramel Frap with coffee, one chocolate chip cookie, one Doubleshot Vanilla Iced coffee and one brownie please?’

The barista nodded, handing you the card machine as you quickly tapped your phone before Haechan could complain. You turned around, expecting to see him watching you in surprise, but instead he was nowhere to be seen.

The barista handed you the cookie and brownie in a bag before they moved to make your coffees as Haechan jogged into the shop.

‘Left my phone in my car.’ He explained before moving towards the counter.

‘Here.’ You said, offering him the bag which held his brownie. ‘Your coffee is on the way.’

Haechan reached for the bag slowly, confusion all over his face as he looked inside it.

‘I got you a Doubleshot Vanilla Iced coffee.’ You informed him, relishing in the way his face lit up with excitement at the mention of his favourite drink.

‘Why- You didn’t have to do this!’ Haechan whined. ‘I’ll pay you back!’

‘No you won’t.’ You said firmly, ignoring his protests. ‘I never paid you back for the first time we got a coffee together so this counts for then. Now we’re even.’

‘How did you know what to get me though?’ Haechan wondered, looking up at the menu.

‘I remembered?’ You offered, laughing at him slightly. ‘Plus you mentioned it to me a couple of days ago that it was your favourite so I thought it was safest to go with that one.’

You head turned towards the counter as your name was called, signalling that your drinks were ready. You walked over to collect them, missing the way Haechan watched you go with the softest smile on his face.

You handed him his drink as the two of you made your way back to his car.

‘Ready for class?’ You asked, groaning slightly at the thought of your history lecture that was looming.

But he didn’t reply, instead just looked at you. You tilted your head in confusion at him, wondering why he wasn’t starting the car.

‘Haechan?’ You asked and something in him seemed to wake up.

‘Hyuck.’ He corrected, turning away from you and beginning to drive away. ‘Call me Hyuck.’

You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your face as you cruised through the streets.

‘Hyuck...’ You repeated to yourself under your breath, unaware of the way that Hyuck’s lips twitched upwards into a smile slightly as you did.

---

For the next two weeks you fully utilised your new privilege, calling him Hyuck at every opportunity you had. You also couldn’t stop yourself because every time you called him Hyuck, he would turn around to look at you with the largest grin on his face. There was no lying that both of you were happy with the rapid speed the two of you were becoming so close you were almost inseparable. 

You were lying in your bed on Friday night, your chemistry textbook and worksheets from hours ago lay abandoned on your desk as you stared up at your ceiling. Your final lecture had been cancelled, so you originally planned to come back and try to get some work done. Only, once you started did you realise that your mind was just a fuzzy mess and there was no way you were going to get through it.

Instead you decided to go to sleep, hoping that some rest would help you clear your head and you’d feel more refreshed the next morning. However, your attempt to get an early night for once was disrupted by your mind and body purely refusing to let sleep take you. 

You groaned, rolling over on to your side and staring at your clock. The numbers shined brightly in your face, the red 2:08am reflecting off your eyes as you stared at them. Turns out it was Saturday morning.

You were just about to give up and go downstairs to watch something, when you noticed your phone screen suddenly light up. You grabbed your phone and lifted it to your face to see a text sitting on your home screen.

Hyuck: yo

Hyuck: are you awake

You grinned at your phone, texting back a quick reply.

You: yeah

You: couldn’t sleep. why

Hyuck: come outside

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, silently moving to your window and pulling the curtains back. You looked down at your drive and saw Hyuck’s car sitting there with him in the driver’s seat staring up at your window. You made eye contact with him and he nodded towards his empty passenger seat. You held up a finger, asking him to wait a minute, and you shut your curtain again.

You quickly grabbed a pair of shoes and ran out of your bedroom, making sure to grab your keys on your way. You made your way through your house, leaving a quick note for your dad in case he woke up and thought you had disappeared, and slipped as silently as you could out of your front door, jogging down to the car that was waiting for you.

‘God it’s cold out there!’ You exclaimed, rubbing your arms to warm yourself up as you directed the heaters in his car towards you.

Hyuck raised his eyebrows at you, replying sarcastically.

‘Well, maybe if you’d worn more than a thin t shirt in October this wouldn’t be a problem.’

You looked down at what you were wearing, huffing when you realised he was right. Your choice of pyjamas, a t-shirt and jogging bottoms, while comfortable, were not doing much to battle the cold night air. You opened the door to run back inside and grab a jumper but Hyuck stopped you.

‘Don’t worry, I had a feeling you would do this, so I came prepared.’ He leaned backwards, reaching into his back seat and pulled out a hoodie of his before dropping it into your lap. ‘Here, wear this.’ He told you, quickly turning his attention back to his car as he got it started.

You looked down at the hoodie in your lap, unable to stop yourself from smiling slightly, and you whispered a quick thanks. You pulled it over your head, allowing yourself to be submerged in the soft fabric. The first thing you noticed was Hyuck scent taking over your being. You were surrounded by him and it was much more comforting than you were expecting.

Unknown to you, Hyuck found himself unable to take his eyes off you. Seeing you in his hoodie made his heart beat a lot faster than he was willing to admit, and, if he was being honest, he didn’t want you to ever take it off.

Hyuck began to drive and you found yourself automatically reaching for the aux cable. You decided to play one of your favourite songs that you hadn’t heard in a while, and soon ‘(Un)Lost’ by ‘The Maine’ gently filled the car, immediately reinforcing the relaxed atmosphere.

‘You hungry?’ Hyuck asked, and you shrugged slightly.

‘I could go for some ramen to be honest.’ You replied. ‘What’s going to be open at this hour though?’ You looked out of your window and found yourself filled with confusion. ‘Where even are we?’

‘Somewhere I like to come when I can’t sleep.’ He answered you. ‘Also, don’t worry, I know a place to eat.’

You hummed in response, trusting Hyuck’s judgement when it came to food. You had learnt that he always knew the best places. You couldn’t help the feeling of deja vu you were having, flashbacks to the time you and Hyuck first got coffee together and he refused to tell you where you were going, travelled through your head.

You stared out of the window, trying to recognise any of your surroundings, but you were on an empty road with trees on either side of you. If you weren’t with Hyuck you would have been terrified.

Eventually, he began to slow down, and you spotted a neon lit diner to your right. Hyuck drew the car to a halt and you both climbed out. He noticed the slightly nervous look on your face as your eyes darted across the dark woods surrounding you, and held out a hand. You smiled shyly, reaching out for him. The second you felt his hand in yours, you immediately relaxed and allowed Hyuck to pull you towards the diner.

A small bell sounded, signalling your arrival as Hyuck pushed the door open, and a man who you assumed was around mid-twenties appeared from the back. One look at the two of you and his face lit up into the biggest smile.

‘Donghyuck! Welcome back!’ He exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the side for emphasis.

‘Hi Johnny.’ Hyuck laughed, bringing you forwards as the tall male came around the counter to give him a hug. He pulled away from the hug and turned towards you. ‘Johnny, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Johnny, he runs this diner.’

‘Ahhhh, so this is the famous y/n!’ Johnny laughed, turning towards you. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you.’

‘It’s nice to meet you too.’ You replied, slightly taken aback at how nice this guy was.

‘So the usual?’ Johnny asked Hyuck and he nodded in response. ‘Anything for you, y/n?’

‘Surprise me.’ You said, having no idea what this place even offered, and Johnny nodded, his large smile never leaving his face.

‘Oh, Taeil is in the kitchen tonight if you want to say hi.’ Johnny said, turning back to Hyuck. Hyuck’s eyes lit up at the mention of Taeil and he turned to you, telling you he’d be back in a second.

‘Don’t rush, Hyuck.’ You laughed. It was clear from Hyuck’s expression that he hadn’t seen this Taeil in a while.

‘Tell him the order while you’re there?’ Johnny shouted, getting a shout back in reply. Johnny chuckled to himself, offering you a seat by the island and sitting next to you. ‘You know, Donghyuck talks about you a lot when he’s here.’

Your eyes shot up to his, your eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise and he nodded.

‘Yeah, you must mean a lot to him. Not only are you wearing his hoodie and you get to call him Hyuck, but he brought you here. That’s something...’

‘What makes you say that?’ You asked, sending Johnny an appreciative smile as he poured you a glass of water.

‘This is his safe space, the place where he comes whenever he wants to escape. Mainly from other people.’ Johnny gestured around him, and you followed his movements, your eyes resting on the seats, tables and jukeboxes that decorated this place.

‘I don’t get it, why would that make me important to him?’ You asked, looking at Johnny once more.

‘Well, most of the time, when you want to escape from something, you don’t bring the thing you’re running from with you. Donghyuck has never brought anyone here, not even Jaemin, and those two grew up together. So for him to bring you here, you must be something pretty damn special.’

You were speechless by the time Johnny had finished. You had been completely unaware of just how much Hyuck had cared for you. You weren’t even aware of the smile that was stretching across your face until Johnny chuckled.

‘I can see he’s special to you too.’

You looked back at him and nodded.

‘I...’ You swallowed slightly before speaking again. ‘I wasn’t expecting to care for someone this much.’

Johnny lifted up a hand, placing it on your shoulder and squeezing gently. You found the gesture surprisingly reassuring and you sent him a grateful smile.

‘For what it’s worth, you two make a good pair.’ Johnny said. ‘I’m glad he’s found someone he cares for this much.’

At the moment a laughing Donghyuck came bursting back through the kitchen doors, quickly followed by a slightly shorter male who you assumed was Taeil. Taeil looked up and saw you.

‘This is y/n?’ He asked Hyuck, who nodded in confirmation.

You stood up to greet him, placing your water on the counter as you did so.

‘It’s nice to meet you.’

‘You too, I’m Taeil.’ Taeil introduced himself, and you smiled at him.

Hyuck held up two boxes of ramen, the smell making your mouth water.

‘Shall we?’

---

You sat on the hood of Hyuck’s car and looked out over the skyline. The entire city was illuminated, the lights shining through the darkness and creating bright patterns in the night. You were mesmerised by the sight in front of you, the beauty of the twinkling lights demanding your attention.

The two of you were currently at the look out point which Hyuck had pointed out to you the day you had first met. It was a cliff edge that you could drive to, and it was only a couple of minutes away from the diner.

Your trip to the diner has been surprisingly entertaining. It was clear that Johnny and Taeil had known Hyuck and each other for a long time, but they made sure to welcome you and make sure that you felt comfortable. They wanted to know about the previous places you’d been to and any stories of your life or previous schools that you wanted to share. There was never an awkward moment, the three of them being so quick witted with their humour that you were in stitches the entire time. It felt as though you had spent the past half an hour laughing with old friends.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you’d felt an environment like that.

Hyuck was silently watching you, studying the reflection of the city lights in your eyes and wondering what was going through your mind. He eventually forced himself to tear his eyes away from you and back to the scenery in front of him. This view was normally the only that could set his mind at ease no matter what he was feeling, but after today, after seeing you interact so well with the friends he called his family, after seeing how beautiful you looked in his hoodie, how ethereal you were sat on his car in the moonlight... all Hyuck wanted to do was kiss you.

‘I’ve got to say, out of all the places I’ve lived, this is my favourite view.’ You softly broke the silence and Hyuck found his gaze wandering back towards you again.

‘Can I ask you something?’ He asked and you hummed in response. ‘How many places have you lived?’

You turned your head towards his and thought for a second.

‘Honestly... there’s been so many, I don’t think I could tell you the exact number.’ You told him. ‘I’ve moved around since I was a kid, we rarely stayed anywhere longer than one year before we headed to a new city which always seemed to be as far away from the previous one as you could possibly get. My dad’s job requires him to move wherever the company asks him to move, so we’ve never really had a choice. It’s nice, I guess, I get to see all these amazing places and travel so much already, but...’ You trailed off, unsure whether to continue.

‘But?’ Hyuck encouraged, looking at you with nothing but support in his eyes.

‘But it’s hard.’ You admitted. ‘People don’t really see how difficult it is. Everyone sees me as the lucky one, they tell me they wish they could travel like me, and see all the things I’ve seen. Someone even once told me that they wished they could only live in one place for one year before moving on, because then they wouldn’t have to worry about caring for anyone but themselves. Sometimes, for me, it really feels like that. But that it’s a good feeling. I’ve never lived anywhere longer than a year. I’ve even never lived anywhere long enough to call it home. I’ve never had a friendship, or relationship of any kind for that matter, that didn’t end a month after I moved away.’

‘You have your parents though, right?’ Hyuck asked, and you nodded in response.

‘Yeah, I have my dad. My mum, umm, she-’ You paused for a minute to take a breath. ‘She didn’t like the constant moving, she always said she found it too difficult. So, when I was nine, she decided she wasn’t going to move on with us. One night, she packed her bags, walked out the house and never came back. I haven’t seen her since.’ You confessed. You had never told anyone that, yet somehow, it felt safe to tell Hyuck.

‘I’m sorry.’ Hyuck offered and you sent him a smile.

‘It’s okay, it was a really long time ago.’ You tried to reassure him, even though you knew it wasn’t very convincing. ‘Moving like this... it’s a lot more lonely than you think it is.’

Hyuck moved himself slightly closer to you so that you were almost touching. He lifted his hand, and gently tucked your hair behind your ear before cradling your face.

‘You don’t have to be alone here. I’m going to be right beside you.’ He promised, the sincerity in his voice scaring you slightly. You knew that he meant it with every fibre of his being.

You didn’t know who leaned in first, nor did you care, but, either way, the two of you began to lean in. Your lips were almost touching when you stopped. Hyuck, noticing your movements, stopped immediately as well, his lips so close that his breath was gently fanning your face.

‘I’m leaving at the end of this year.’ You whispered, not moving away from him.

‘So we have two thirds of it left.’ Hyuck argued, his thumb gently stroking your face.

‘I’ll break your heart.’ Your voice was even softer than before, wavering slightly with emotion as your eyes fluttered shut.

‘It’ll be worth it.’ Hyuck whispered back, before you allowed him to finally close the distance.

He pressed his lips to yours, it was sweet, innocent and everything that a first kiss should be. You lifted up your hand to rest them on his wrists as he pulled away. He moved his hands away from your face and brought them down to your waist, pulling you closer and you wound yours around his neck.

You leant in again, this time kissing him with more passion. You were so overwhelmed with how much Hyuck cared for you, and how much you cared for him that all you wanted to do was show him, and this was the only way you knew you. Neither of you said it, but you both knew this was the start of your relationship, a secret kiss in a hidden place, with only the stars in the sky as your witnesses. And, honestly, it couldn’t be more perfect.

---

You closed the front door as quietly as you could, wincing as the lock audibly clicked into place. You briefly stopped to grab the note you had written for your dad before leaving and scrunched it up into a little ball before throwing it away. You then began to make your way through your house, tiptoeing silently past your dad’s room before making it into the safety of your own.

You fell into bed, pulling the covers up and smiling happily into them. No one had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t imagine ever feeling this way about anyone else.

There was something about Hyuck that made you want to just do things. Not in a “throw caution to the wind and cause chaos” kind of way, but in a motivational kind of way. He made you want to work harder, to fight for what you want, to always give people a chance to see the real them, to say yes more.

You couldn’t imagine what your life would be like if you hadn’t followed him out of the window on the first day. And if you could do it all again, you knew, you wouldn’t change a thing. You pulled the sleeves of Hyuck’s hoodie down over your fingers as you found yourself, once again, comforted by his scent.

It was only then that you realised you had forgotten to give it back, quickly reaching for your phone to text him.

You: i still have your hoodie

Hyuck: keep it for now

Hyuck: you can give it back to me at school on monday

Hyuck: or you can wear it

Hyuck: actually no

Hyuck: please wear it

You: i promise

You: night hyuck x

Hyuck: night

Hyuck: sleep well <3

---

You had kept your promise to Hyuck, wearing his hoodie into school and you were blown away by the amount of attention it had gathered. You would have thought that people would have more interesting things to talk about, but the main conversation topic in the corridors for the past week, was yours and Hyuck’s relationship.

Today was the Wednesday of the week after that Monday. You had a single lecture in the afternoon, while Hyuck was stuck in school until the end of the day. You had never been happier to hear the bell ring, signalling your escape from the most painfully boring Chemistry lecture of your life. You exited the classroom, laughing with Hyunjin as you complained about the hell you had just been put through.

He waved you a friendly goodbye, one which you returned before you walked towards your locker. You placed your books inside it and closed the door, making sure to lock it shut. You turned around, almost jumping out of your skin when you spotted three girls waiting for you to finish.

‘Can I help you?’ You asked, confused beyond belief as to why they were silently standing by your locker.

The one in the middle spoke first.

‘We just want to look out for you honey. Haechan is bad news, and we don’t want you to get hurt.’

You frowned at them in disbelief, wondering why on earth they were telling you this. You had never even seen any of them around Hyuck before.

‘Yeah, he’s a  bad boy for a reason and we’re just worried that you're blinded by his charms. We’ve all fallen for it at some point, and we don’t want you to get manipulated like the rest of us.’ The brunette on the left piped up as you rolled your eyes.

‘Ok, this is very.... weird. Also, it’s not really any of your business, so thanks for your concern, but I’m fine by myself.’ You picked your bag up from the floor, swinging it over your shoulder.

As if a switch had been pressed, the expressions on the girls faces changed in a flash. Gone were the sympathetic looks and wide eyes as judgemental gazes and cocky smirks replaced them.

‘I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not the golden girl. You’re not the exception to the rule, the one who’s going to be able to change him, so stop trying. You’re not that special. You’re wasting your time and you’re going to end up with a broken heart.’ The one of the right spat, surprising you with her sudden change of tone.

‘She’s right.’ The middle one took charge again. ‘He’s nothing more than a cigarette puffing, selfish asshole. Just remember, we’ll be here when it all goes to shit.’

They began to strut their way down the corridor, leaving a very confused you standing by your locker.

‘Y/n?’ A voice suddenly rang out. You turned towards the sound to see Jaemin coming towards you. ‘What was that all about?’

---

You sat next to Jaemin on a bench at the nearby park. You dragged him down the river to find a deserted area, before sitting down to explain what had happened. Jaemin had insisted that you talk him through it, not wanting you to feel alone.

‘-so they reassured me that it was going to fail, no matter what.’ You finished, staring at the river in front of you.

Jaemin didn’t respond for a minute, just watched you as you finished speaking. Eventually, he broke the silence between the two of you.

‘You know, something that comes with having a reputation like Hyuck’s, is that everyone puts their own spin on it. Everybody likes to come up with new things that he’s done or find a rumour that sounds like him and spread it. He’s been ignoring it for god knows how long, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. I’m not going to tell you how to feel, that’s not my job. However, I am going to tell you this.’

Jaemin readjusted his seating, moving so that he was facing you more. You mimicked him, turning your side towards the water.

‘Hyuck is brave, and self assured, and confident, and cocky, but, just like everybody else, he has his weakness. And for him, it’s love. He’s completely terrified of falling in love. When Hyuck slept around last year, he didn’t do it just cause he wanted sex, or cause it was a confidence boost to get those girls. He did it because he wanted company, because he was lonely. But, he could never let it be for longer than one night because then he was putting himself at risk.’

‘At risk of what?’ You asked, and Jaemin sighed before continuing.

‘Of getting attached, of catching feelings, of being vulnerable, of caring. Hyuck’s afraid of falling in love with someone because, if he does that, then there’s no turning back. He’s at their mercy, and no one will have the power over him that that person does. And that terrifies him.’

You nodded as Jaemin spoke, taking in every detail. When he finished you leaned back on the bench, this time staring up at the clouds as they passed. Jaemin had made a lot of sense and, although you would never admit it, you did understand his fear of being in love.

‘I care about him.’ You began as Jaemin looked back towards you. ‘I care about him a lot. But there’s this part of my brain that’s telling me he’s got a reputation for a reason. That this only has one ending and I’m kidding myself if I think I’m any different from the previous girls.’

‘You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re anything like them.’ Jaemin huffed. ‘And, if you’re going to think like that, if that’s going to dominate your mind, then honestly, you should spare Hyuck the pain. After everything, he deserves to actually have someone who loves him, not someone who doubts him. If you can’t see past his reputation, then it’s not fair to string him along.’

You could tell from Jaemin’s eyes that he meant every word. As soon as he said that, it was like a cloud had been lifted, clearing your vision. You leant forward, forcing him to look at you while you spoke truthfully.

‘I’m not going to judge him on his reputation. I don’t want to. I care about him, and that’s all that matters. And I don’t care about what other people think about him, because I know him.’

Jaemin nodded at you, a smile forming on his face.

‘Good.’ He looked down at his watch. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be meeting him at yours tonight?’ He asked, looking back up at you.

You pulled out your phone, checking the time and your eyes widened. You and Jaemin had spoken for a lot longer than you had thought, and at this rate, Hyuck was going to beat you back to your house. You stood up, thanking Jaemin before giving him a quick hug and running home to Hyuck.

---

One takeaway, four movies and three deep conversations later, Hyuck had fallen asleep. You quietly closed your laptop, placing it on the floor as you climbed out of your bed. You picked up the food containers, carrying them downstairs to the kitchen as you cleaned up slightly.

You dropped the takeaway boxes into the bin, before washing your hands. You thought for a second before grabbing two glasses, which you filled up with water and made your way back to your bedroom.

When you arrived, you spent a short amount of time standing in the doorway and just watched Hyuck sleep. He looked so angelic when he slept, all the stress and worries of the day melted off his features. You placed the water next to your side, moving around the bed to place the second one next to him.

You stepped forward, lightly grabbing the blanket and pulling it up to cover him with it. You lifted up a hand, placing it in his hair and you gently stroked it. He let out a contented hum in his sleep and you smiled down at him. You removed your hand, replacing it with your lips for a soft kiss on his temple and then proceeded to stand up and move around to your side of the bed.

You lifted up the covers and climbed in. Hyuck, as if sensing the sudden weight, rolled over, his arm finding its way around your waist before you had even laid down properly. His other one snuck underneath you, unnoticed by you until you lay down and found your head resting on it. Hyuck tightened his grip, pulling you close into his chest as you were surrounded by his embrace.

As much as you loved sleeping in his hoodies, this was by far the better option. You rested one hand on his chest, the other one winding around his waist and you curled up as close to him as you could.

You shut your eyes, letting your mind drift back to the conversation you had with Jaemin earlier, and the unprovoked attack from the girls in the hallway, and, easily, you came to one very solid conclusion.

The girls in the hallway may have been talking about Haechan, the rumours, the past mistakes and the persona, but you knew Donghyuck. You knew the boy that would stay up until 2am watching movies and chatting with you about life because you couldn’t sleep. You knew the boy that pulled you closer to him, even when he was fast asleep. You knew the real Donghyuck, and you were getting very scared that you were falling in love with him.

---

Time started to pass faster and, before you knew it, another month had passed. Your father had met Hyuck officially as your boyfriend and loved him. You had met Hyuck’s parents too, thankfully getting on their good sides even though they weren’t around much. You had managed to convince Hyuck to quit smoking, something that he had found surprisingly easy. Any time you asked how he did it, he’d claim that you were more addictive than any cigarette ever could be and give you a sweet kiss. Hyuck had been the perfect boyfriend to you, caring, fun, teasing and through it all, he still felt like your best friend.

You were preparing to head off and see him today. You grabbed your phone and keys before leaving your room and jogging down the stairs. You landed gently at the bottom and began to head straight for the door when you heard your father’s voice.

‘Y/n? Will you come in here for a minute sweetheart?’

You followed his voice into his study to find his standing by his desk, his phone in his hand.

‘Dad? Is everything okay? I’m meeting Hyuck in like ten minutes so I can’t be long.’ You said, checking your phone for the time.

Your father turned around to face you, leaning backwards so that he was sitting on the desk behind him.

‘Yes of course! Sorry, I’ll try to make it quick. Would you be happy to stay here for a bit longer than normal?’ He asked, getting straight to the point since he knew you had places to be.

‘Like this town?’ You wondered and your father nodded.

‘Yes, right here. In the same town and same house. Would you be okay with staying here for longer?’ You father spoke, this time raising his eyebrows in question.

‘How much longer?’ You asked, remaining suspicious and skeptical so that you didn’t get your hopes up.

‘Well, I’ve been offered a permanent position here, and I accepted it. So as long as you like.’ You jaw dropped at his words, unable to process what he was saying.

‘No more moving?’ You asked him.

‘No more moving.’ He confirmed and you burst out into a happy laugh, running forwards to hug him.

‘Oh my god, Dad that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!’ You gushed, pulling out of the hug to see his smiling face.

‘So you’re happy to stay here?’ He asked and you grinned back at him.

‘I think I’d be okay with that.’

---

You made your way through Hyuck’s house, stopping only to briefly wave at his parents, before arriving at his room. You could hear him talking inside, so you entered as quietly as you could. He turned around as you entered, smiling and coming towards you to place a soft kiss on your cheek before turning his attention back to his phone call. The smile hadn’t left your face since your dad had told you his news, and you couldn’t wait to tell Hyuck.

He walked towards his window while talking, clearly attempting to wrap up the conversation without being overly rude. You approached his desk, chuckling at the piles of papers and discarded assignments that lay on it. Hyuck never was one for keeping things neat. You tilted your head slightly as one piece in particular caught your eye.

You reached for it, pulling it out from the bottom of the pile and scanned the words, your heart sinking as you did. The title as the top stood out the most: “the to-DO list”.

As you read further and further down the page you saw name after name of different girls in the school, and next to them were a short list of pros and cons, and the number of points they were worth. There were even lines though some of the names with ticks next to them, which you could only assume meant that they were checked off.

You recognised Siyeon and Momo’s names, neither of them having a cross through, but you also recognised the names of the “Welcoming Committee”. They were the same girls who cornered you in the corridor to warn you about Hyuck, and you ignored them. All three of their names were on the list, and all three of them had lines through them.

When your eyes reached the bottom of the page, your heart stopped. You forgot how to breath and you felt as though time suddenly stood still. You stared at the final name, the latest addition to the list that had the highest points and a bright red line through it.

Y/n Y/l/n - 150 points

Pros: new kid, gullible, not around for long, won’t stay to cause you trouble

Cons: defensive, needs effort to be worn down, not as easy as previously assumed

You stared at your name, the tears that filled your eyes blurring it slightly, but not making it any less real. This was a game. Hyuck and his friends were playing a game about who could get the most of the girls. You were just a target to him, something to tick off his list. And he had.

You registered Hyuck hanging up the phone and you furiously blinked away your tears.

‘Sorry about that. I was trying to-’ Hyuck stopped talking mid-sentence, his phone falling from his grip in shock when you turned around with the list in your hand. His eyes shot from the paper to you again, but one look at your face told him everything he needed to know.

‘What’s this?’ You whispered, holding up the piece of paper for him to see.

You watched as Hyuck’s jaw dropped and fear and panic took over his features. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish out of water.

‘What is this?’ You asked again, articulating every word. ‘Please tell me it’s not what I think it is. Tell me that this isn’t some sick game, that- that I’m just some game to you.’

You watched as Hyuck struggled to form a reply, obviously lost for words at what was happening.

‘I swear to god Hyuck, you better tell me the truth right now or I am gonna walk out of that door and I am not coming back.’ You kept your head up, refusing to let him see how affected by this you were more than he already had.

‘Tell me!’ You shouted, your temper flaring as your patience ran thin.

That seemed to finally get through to Hyuck, his eyes snapped towards your face as he stuttered out some weak reply.

‘No- no- no it’s -it’s not what you... No y/n I don’t... I can’t explain it I just-’ Hyuck looked at you, his eyes full of desperation but you couldn’t find it in you to feel sympathy for him.

You let out an empty laugh, one of pure disbelief at your own foolishness. You couldn’t believe that you really thought you were important to him. It’s Lee Donghyuck for Christ’s sake. He has a reputation for a reason. What made you think you were special enough to break that?

You swallowed, lifting your eyes to Hyuck’s once more and realised that you didn’t know a thing about the boy who stood before you. You opened your mouth and, with a shaky voice, you spoke.

‘You know, I was told by so many people that I wasn’t the exception to the rule, I wasn’t the golden girl, I- I wasn’t the one who could change your ways or prove that you were more than just a cigarette puffing, leather jacket wearing, selfish ass hole. But, god... I really hoped I was. And for a minute there, I actually believed it... you actually let me believe it. Maybe that’s why this hurts so much.’

‘Y/n please-’ He began, reaching out for you with one arm but stopped cold at your next words.

‘Save it, Haechan.’ Your use of Haechan instead of Hyuck struck Donghyuck right to his core. You hadn’t called him Haechan in the two months since he’d given you permission to use Hyuck, instead taking pride in the fact that you were close to him to not only call him by his real name, but by his nickname. When you used Haechan, he felt as though someone had picked up a blade of ice and driven it straight into his heart.

He had no idea why this was hurting him so bad. He knew from the moment he walked in and saw that look on your face that something was wrong. He never liked seeing you upset, but watching that door slam behind you, he never would have been able to presume that him being the cause of your upset would have been so heart wrenching.

There’s something about knowing that you’re the reason that the person you love most in the world is crying, that can rip a man’s heart in two. And for the first time in his life, Donghyuck began to experience what heartbreak was like.

---

You ran out of the door, tearing down the streets as fast as the tears were running down your face. You felt small, you felt ridiculous, you felt humiliated, you felt as though you were five years old again. And all you wanted to do was run away.

The irony was impossible to ignore. Your entire life, you had hated moving. Always leaving everyone behind, allowing them to forget you and forcing yourself to forget them. Every city, town or village you had lived in, you had wanted to stay, make friendships that would last a lifetime, fall in love, grow old in the same place you grew up, but you never could. Now for the first time in your life you were finally staying in one place, a place that you were supposed to call home, and yet, you wanted nothing more than to leave it.

---

‘Ok, I’m just going to say it. You’ve done a lot worse to a lot of other girls and you’ve never had this severe of a reaction before. Why now? What’s so special about this one that she’s the reason you’re suddenly experiencing the feeling of guilt?’ Jaemin leaned forwards towards his friend, hoping to finally get a solid answer out of him.

Jaemin had received an SOS text from Donghyuck and immediately moved to meet him at the local bar. He was currently sat across from the aforementioned, watching as his friend had a mini meltdown in front of him. This was the most emotional that Jaemin had seen Donghyuck in a while, and he knew that there was something about you that Donghyuck was refusing to admit. 

‘I don’t know, but when I was standing there, looking at her face as these tears began to fall... all I wanted to do was to run up to her and wipe them away. To hold her and reassure her that... that I’m going to be the one to protect her from harm, not cause it, that I’m going to be the one who she’s safe with, the one who provides her comfort, the one who...’ Donghyuck trailed off at the end leaving Jaemin unable to catch what he was saying.

‘Alright, so here’s my next question: Why didn’t you?’ Jaemin raised an eyebrow at Donghyuck’s moping figure as his head shot up.

‘Why didn’t I what?’ Donghyuck questioned, too tired and emotionally worn out to actually think through what he was being asked.

Jaemin rolled his eyes so hard that he thinks he actually saw the one remaining braincell of his that had survived this conversation, the rest of them choosing to jump ship and abandon him.

‘Why didn’t you go elephant hunting? What do you think?! Why didn’t you do all those things you wanted to? Why didn’t you tell her how much she means to you?’

Donghyuck paused for a minute, thinking back to when he saw you standing there, completely vulnerable, with all your walls down for just him to see.

‘I was scared...’ He admitted, looking up at his friend slowly. ‘I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t know what it means to do this kind of stuff and be good at it. What if I told her the truth and she didn’t feel the same? What if I scared her away when I told her how I felt? I was scared that she wouldn’t want anything to do with me if I told her I loved her.’

Jaemin didn’t respond for a second, his mind taking it’s time to wrap around the fact that Donghyuck was in love. He knew that you meant more to Hyuck than he had ever let on, but Jaemin never would have expected for his friend to have fallen in love with you.

‘Donghyuck... I don’t think you’ll lose her if you tell her you love her. But I do think you may lose her if you don’t.’ Jaemin watched Donghyuck’s expression change as the realisation of the reality of Jaemin’s words dawned on him.

‘What do I do Jaemin?’ He asked, begging to know how to get you back.

‘Do what you couldn’t before.’ Jaemin told him. ‘Tell her the truth.’

---

You could feel all eyes on you as you walked through the main gates the following morning. It was the first time you had walked in by yourself, Haechan having insisted on driving you every morning he could, so this seemed to alert people that there was something wrong. 

You held your head high and refused to let them see how emotional you were, biting the inside of your cheek anytime you could feel your eyes begin to water slightly. If it were up to you, you would have stayed at home today, choosing instead to drown yourself in chocolate and chick flicks, but, unfortunately, your dad was working from home so you had to come in.

You made your way towards your locker, unable to avoid making eye contact with a couple of people along the way. You accidentally caught eyes with the trio of girls who you had become all too familiar with from their welcome when you arrived and their more recent “friendly” advice by your locker.

‘Aww hun, we tried to warn you...’ They crowded you, one of them stroking your hair and all of them effectively drawing all the attention towards you once more. ‘We wanted to protect you from this...’

You tensed up, irritated and a little creeped out by the unwanted contact.

‘Fuck off!’ You spat, pushing them away from you. They stepped forwards again, obviously trying to paint themselves as your saviours in front of the rest of the school who were watching.

‘Sweetie, we just want to help! We knew this would happen and-’

You cut them off, speaking quietly at them through gritted teeth.

‘You don’t know shit about what happened. Stop pretending like you care about me and go back to whatever it is that you do, and leave me alone.’

With that, just like it had in the hallway, the fake smiles and false pretences melted off the three witches, as they rolled their eyes at you before strutting away. Gossiping just loud enough for you to hear.

‘If she actually thought that relationship was real she’s such an idiot.’

‘I know! I mean, it’s Haechan for crying out loud, is she dumb?’

You screwed your eyes shut, resting your forehead against your locker as everyone else began to disappear from around you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and opened your locker. An envelope fell out of it as the door opened, the white paper landing on your feet.

You looked down at it in confusion, bending down to pick it up. You turned it over and examined the messy handwriting on the front. You immediately recognised it at Haechan’s and your eyes flew back to your locker, scanning it to see if he had left anything else. Your gaze focused on a bar of chocolate, which you pulled out and examined.

You nodded in disbelief. Did he really think that a bar of chocolate and a letter would make up for all that happened? When he couldn’t even look you in the face and give it to you himself? You grabbed your books, slamming your locker shut out of anger. If Haechan actually wanted to make amends, he should stop being such a coward and have the courage to face you himself to say whatever he wanted to. You weren’t going to give him an easy way out. 

Before you headed to your class you stopped briefly to dump the letter and chocolate in a nearby bin, unaware of Donghyuck’s teary eyes watching you as you did so.

---

You walked into the local bar, exhausted from the long day you had just had and desperate for a drink. The bar was a college bar, but it was famous amongst students to turning a blind eye towards seniors that may not be of legal drinking age yet.

That day, you had found flowers on your desk in History, your favourite coffee waiting for you at lunch and another letter and chocolate bar in your locker by the end of the day. By this point, you were fed up with it. Everyone had been pointing at you and watching you the entire day, trying to figure out what had happened, and these gifts were not helping to keep you away from everyone’s prying eyes.

All you wanted was to just sit at a booth by yourself and think for a minute before walking home. Unfortunately, life in the form of a slightly drunk baseball jock had other plans.

‘Hey there.’ He approached you, getting a bit too close for comfort.

‘Hi.’ You greeted politely, moving away from him slightly, an infuriated sigh falling from your lips when he followed you. 

‘Don’t run from me. What do you say that you and I get out of here okay?’ He purred, his face coming closer to yours so that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You pushed against his chest, the alcohol coursing through his system worsening his balance making him take a few steps back. ‘Feisty... I like that.’ He began to advance again, making you quickly speak up.

‘Okay first of all, I just want to get a drink. Second of all, why would I leave when I’ve just arrived? Third of all, why would I leave with you?’ You turned away from him, rolling your eyes as you did so.

However, the message didn’t seem to go through his thick skull, with him pushing himself right up against you, his hand dangerously low on your back and he whispered into your ear, making your skin crawl.

‘You’ll pay for that later sweetheart.’

‘Hey!’ A different voice cut through and before you could register what was going on, an arm had wound its way around your shoulder and successfully pulled you away from the creep. ‘Back off.’

‘What do you think you’re doing, Na?’ The baseball player asked, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Jaemin pulling you away from him.

‘Spending some time with my friend, now beat it beefcake.’ Jaemin kept one hand on you, moving his arm off your shoulder but staying close so that you were comfortable.

‘Well, get in line I saw her first.’ He leant forwards to grab you again, as if you were some kind of prize that he’d won.

‘She said no.’ Jaemin said calmly, watching as the jock’s face screwed up in frustration as he lunged for you again, hitting Jaemin’s free hand as he reached out to stop the drunk from touching you.

‘That doesn’t matter.’ He began to raise his voice, the alcohol in his system fuelling his idiotic actions.

‘Allow me to explain, and I’ll use small words so you’ll be sure to understand.’ You had to stop yourself from smiling slightly at Jaemin’s words, his sass never failed to make you laugh and the fact that a couple of people in the bar had turned their heads towards the commotion made it even better. There was now an audience to watch as Jaemin obliterated the drunk baseball player in front of you two. ‘No means no. I understand that may be hard for you to understand, having taken so many hits to the head, but welcome to the 21st century you warthog faced buffoon.’

With that he turned away, making sure to keep himself between you and that jerk and guided you towards an empty booth as the jock was escorted out of the bar for uncivil behaviour. He sat down across from you and quickly whipped out his phone asking if you wanted anything.

‘I was originally planning on just getting something that wasn’t too strong but after that little experience I think I’ll take a vodka coke, thanks.’ You breathed, enjoying the safety of the booth that you were sat in.

Jaemin simply nodded, tapping away on his phone before putting it back into his pocket.

‘What do I owe you?’ You asked, reaching for your own phone so that you could pull up your mobile banking but Jaemin shook his head.

‘Why don’t you just get the next round?’ He proposed and you nodded in agreement.

‘Sounds fair.’ You trailed off after that, silence falling over the two of you as you tried to figure out what to say.

‘Thank you...’ You began. ‘For stepping in like that, he wasn’t backing down and I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.’ You were a little shaken up by it. Guys, especially drunk guys, had a tendency to be a bit gross and over comfortable but none of them had pursued and threatened you the way that guys had today.

‘Don’t mention it. He’s kinda famous for doing that kind of stuff, unfortunately people have just come to accept it. It’s fucked up.’ Jaemin chuckled. ‘People can get so used to seeing someone harass a woman that they begin to turn a blind eye.’

‘Yeah...’ You trailed off again, not sure how to respond.

Your drinks soon arrived, a waitress placing them down on the table in front of you. You reached out and grabbed the glass with your drink in as Jaemin picked up his. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip as you mirrored his actions with your own.

‘If you were meaning to catch Hyuck, he just left.’ Jaemin said suddenly, and you sent him a tight smile.

‘I wasn’t so don’t worry about it.’ You replied quickly, praying that this wouldn’t be the entirety of your conversation.

‘He misses you, you know?’ Jaemin continued softly, watching your face for any kind of reaction as you sighed.

‘Does he now?’ You muttered, staring into the dark brown drink in your hands.

‘Yes, y/n, he does.’ The certainty and clear frustration in Jaemin’s voice made you lift your eyes up to stare at him. ‘I’ve known Hyuck a long time and there’s something about you that’s stopped him in his tracks. He cares for you.’

‘He’ll move on. He always does, doesn't he? Soon he’ll stop wasting his money on the flowers or food and find his next girl to conquer. Don’t get mad at me for figuring out what was going on before he got the chance to pull the rug out from underneath my feet.’ You argued, slightly fed up that this was the only thing you could take about. You and Jaemin had always got along well so it upset and infuriated you that you had lost that relationship too.

Then Jaemin spoke again, this time the words that fell from his lips hitting you like a truck.

'Look, the list was never Hyuck’s idea to begin with, in fact he was really against it. The day you found it was the same day where he called our group to let them know that he was burning it, “it can only cause pain” were his words. The names that were crossed, weren’t crossed off by him. This old friend of ours, someone who we don’t speak to anymore after this, he heard about your relationship and gave Hyuck the list when he came back into town. Hyuck never wanted it, he never even looked at it once since he was given it, and he certainly didn’t care about it or use you just to cross your name off it. And the fact that you think that... y/n it’s killing him.’ He leant forwards as you averted your gaze, and forced you to look him in the eyes again. ‘Y/n, I've seen him work very hard to get girls and I've seen him work very hard to get rid of girls. I've never seen him work this hard to keep one around.’

And with that Jaemin stood, leaving the drink he barely touched sitting on the surface in front of you. You stared at it, not bothering to watch the boy leave as his last words swirled around in your head.

‘I’ve never seen him work this hard to keep one around.’

---

You stepped outside, shutting your front door behind you. You had arrived home from the bar to an empty house and having not felt like cooking, you decided to get a takeout. However, the one place you were really craving was only doing pickup so you had to walk there to order and get it. You pushed on the door, checking it was locked and then turned around, only to stop dead in your tracks when you found yourself face to face with Haechan.

The two of you just stared at each other, you refusing to speak first and, even though Haechan had practiced what he was going to say about a million times on the way over, all words had now left his mind. Eventually you just gave him a tight lipped smile and a nod and made to walk past him.

‘Wait! Y/n wait, please!’ Haechan called out and you slowed to a stop, lifting your eyes up to look at him once more. ‘I, um... I owe you an explanation.’

‘Really Haechan, you don’t have to it's pretty clear what was going on. It’s chill, we’re done and that’s fine. I’m just gonna do my thing and move on like I’d always planned and-’ You shrugged before getting cut off.

‘For the love of god y/n, would you please stop acting like everything’s fine and start dealing with your crap!’ Haechan snapped, causing you to look at him in shock. ‘Look, I’m sorry I snapped but... God, you don’t have to always pretend like it isn’t a big deal. You’re allowed to be upset about things. I hurt you, I know I did. You trusted me, confided in me, cared for me and I threw it all away, and it’s okay to be hurt by that. I’m not saying that I want you to feel hurt, obviously, but... not every has to mean nothing to you.’ Haechan was pretty much mumbling by the end of it, furious with himself for shouting at you when he was here to apologise.

‘Nothing? You think what happened meant nothing to me?’ You asked in disbelief. ‘Hyuck, when I saw that list, it was like everything I had ever thought, every reason I had ever had for keeping my walls up was proved true. I know it may seem like a small deal to some people, but it isn’t to me. It isn’t, okay? You lied to me, manipulated me for weeks, months even, and I feel like such an idiot. And don’t you dare think for one second that you mean nothing to me because the reason it hurt so much is because it was you. Nobody else has the power to hurt me and heal me like you do. And I keep my guard up, I keep my walls up, even when I’m upset, especially when I’m upset, because I don’t want someone to know what power they have over me. Because... if they see how much I care about them, how much I love them, what’s stopping them from using that against me? Once someone knows about it, I don’t have control over it anymore. Once someone knows about it, my heart is completely in the hands of, and at the mercy of, the person I love.’ You ranted, the tears in your eyes gathering rapidly as you tried with everything you could to blink them away. You never told people the truth about how you felt, scared about how they would react to the real you. In fact, telling Hyuck this was terrifying.

Hyuck stared at you with wide eyes, his expression, for once, was unreadable.

‘Love?’ He asked, hope reaching out across his face as you finally managed to get a read on him.

You swallowed, the fear that you had previously been trying to explain began to bubble up as you forced it back down.

‘Yes Hyuck, love...’

‘You’re calling me Hyuck...’ He pointed out, his voice just as soft as yours.

‘I guess I am.’

‘Do you love me?’

Your eyes shot up at his question, leaving their previous view of the tarmac of your drive and instead settling on Donghyuck’s brown eyes, ones that were currently glistening with tears.

‘Does it matter?’ You whispered. ‘It’s not going to change anything. It all still happened.’

‘But it didn’t! Well, it did, but I never wanted it to happen in the first place. I never wanted anything to do with that stupid list! I told him it would only hurt people and now I’ve gone and hurt the one person that I truly love and it’s not fair!’ Your eyes widened at his words, unable to process that fact that he just said love. Hyuck began to wind his hands through his hair as he continued his angry rant that wasn’t really directed at you but rather anyone who would listen. ‘I burnt it. I burnt the fucking list but it was too late and now it’s all a mess and it’s my fault cause I should have burnt it when I first got it. I never even scratched a name off, I’ve only spent time with you this year and I only ever wanted to and I want only you now and I’m not making sense anymore and-’

‘Hyuck!’ You interrupted, stopping him mid rant as his words began to turn to nonsense. His innocent doe eyes looked into yours and you refused to break eye contact. ‘Love?’ You asked, repeating Hyuck’s question from before.

You wanted as his demeanour completely changed. He forced some air into his lungs, dropping his shoulders as he took a deep breath. He lifted his head and locked eyes with you for the thousandth time that night, yet this felt very different. There was something in his gaze that held you captive, even if you had wanted to look away, you wouldn’t have been able to. Your eyes never left his, even as he began to speak and you saw the truth in his words through his sincere expression.

‘I’m not good at this. This kind of moment, this conversation where I admit how I’ve been feeling this entire time. I’m good with music, I’m good with food, I’m good with jokes and making people laugh, but... I’m really bad when it comes to looking someone in the eye and telling them how I feel. Especially if that means letting my walls down. I’m not here to tell you that I’m falling in love with you. I’m here to tell you that... I’ve already fallen. And I was terrified of falling for you, because it was so easy. The way you always remember my coffee order, or the way you drape a blanket over me when I fall asleep on the sofa, or the way that you made me care more about my life, about who I am and how I impact others. Loving you was so easy and that’s why it was so god damn terrifying. Because I couldn’t stop myself. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop myself from being in love with you. I am utterly, hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you. More than you’ll ever know. And for the first time in my life, that doesn’t sound so scary.’

By this point, the tears that had been previously threatening to fall were now steadily making their way down his face. You knew that you looked no better, your vision was blurry and your throat was tight. He refused to look away from you, not even to wipe the tears from his face, instead, he kept talking.

‘And I know that this doesn’t change anything. You’re still leaving at the end of this year, but that’s just over seven months away. And, even though I know how it’s going to end, I want those seven months with you. I do. I want them more than anything. And I will do anything it takes to earn your trust back.’

There wasn’t a single speck of doubt in your body that Hyuck was telling the truth. This wasn’t Haechan speaking, this was Donghyuck, vulnerable, emotional and broken Donghyuck talking to you from his heart, begging for your forgiveness and understanding. You found it impossible to tear your gaze away from him, your eyes glued to his as you tried to come to a conclusion in your mind.

No matter how many times the irrational part of your brain tried to convince you this was all a trick, some elaborate scheme that will end up with you getting your heart broken, you couldn’t hear it. It was outweighed by the sheer volume of every atom, every fibre of your being screaming out for the boy you loved, for Donghyuck.

‘Hyuck, I love you... But I don’t want you to have only seven months with me.’ You began. Donghyuck’s face quickly fell, as if accepting defeat and he sadly nodded. ‘I want you to have more than that. And I know that it doesn’t seem possible, because I’m moving, but, what if I wasn’t...’ You trailed off as Hyuck’s eyes filled with hope.

‘What are you saying?’ He asked, his lips twitching as he fought back a grin. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted you to be saying what he thought you were saying.

‘I’m saying, my dad got offered a permanent position here, and he took it. I’m not moving. I’m staying here, in the only place on earth I want to stay. Because, here, I get to be with you.’ You revealed.

A second passed as the revelation sank in and Donghyuck’s face split into the biggest smile you had ever seen on him. He rushed forwards towards you, his arms making their way around your waist as your bodies crashed into each other. You wound your arms around his neck, dropping your head into his shoulder and feeling him do the same. You breathed in, savouring the feeling of being wrapped in his embrace, the place you had missed so much.

Hyuck eventually lifted his head out of your neck, looking you deep in the eyes before he leant his forehead on yours and breathed out a soft:

‘I’ve missed you.’

You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face, nor could you stop your reply.

‘I missed you too.’

You pulled your forehead away from his, watching as his gaze flickered down to your lips and back up again, a questioning look in his eyes. You nodded, giving permission and Hyuck wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours.

You could have sworn fireworks went off. You had never understood that saying until that very moment, but right there, you felt an explosion of love that you hadn’t known was possible. You pressed yourself into him as his arms pulled you as close as possible until there wasn’t any space between your bodies.

You both pulled away to catch your breath, yet neither of you moved away from the other at all. You stayed just as close as you had been, with Hyuck’s arms never loosening from around your waist. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

‘I love you.’ He laughed, provoking a chuckle out of you too.

‘I love you more.’ You replied, grinning up at him as he raised an eyebrow at you.

‘Not possible.’ He answered back, his voice softening as he leant down to kiss you once more.

Hyuck kissed you again, and again, and again. He kissed you throughout the whole night, only stopping to whisper confessions of his love or to attempt to pull you closer to him than you already were. He came with you to pick up some takeout, he also insisted on paying, but even when waiting for the food, he held you tightly in a back hug.

He pulled your legs over his on the sofa at yours as he fed you your takeout while you watched a movie together. And he kept his tight grip on you as you went to sleep, tangled up together like vines, so intertwined that it seemed impossible to pull them apart.

Hyuck never ended up telling you why he held you so tightly that night. In his defence, you never really asked, and, as much as Hyuck allowed himself to be vulnerable and honest around you, this was something that he kept as his own little secret. As his own little confession. Whenever Hyuck was struggling, he just thought back to this night and how amazing it felt to finally have the girl he loved wrapped in his arms, with the knowledge that she will still be there when he wakes up.

He had finally found someone who he loved and would do anything for, and he never wanted to let you go.

---

Not even one month later, it was the Winter Formal. The school had decided to put a monumental amount of effort into it, hiring out a local ballroom and turning it into a winter wonderland, complete with fake snow, white trees, gentle lighting and sparkly white silk hanging around the room. You would be lying if you said that your breath wasn’t completely taken away when you walked in.

Yet none of it compared to the feeling of walking in with Hyuck on your arm.

Hyuck had surprised, not only you, but the entire school it seemed when he walked in with a smart suit on, a white flower in the pocket and green tie neatly around his neck. It seemed as though all eyes were on the two of you when you entered the hall, and you were sure that Hyuck’s look was something to do with it.

Of course he disagreed. He insisted that it was all to do with the green gown that you were wearing, claiming the way it hugged your figure in all the right places and the slit in the thigh made you look like a dream. Walking out of your house to meet Hyuck and seeing his jaw literally drop was a major confidence boost. That boy knew how to make you feel good about yourself.

You met your friends at the dance, and not even two minutes after arriving, were immediately pulled onto the dance floor by Jaemin.

‘You guys look good!’ He commented, flashing you his million dollar smile. ‘Probably the best out of everyone here. ’

‘Well we thought it was best to make an impression.’ You shrugged, grinning back at him.

Just as Hyuck opened his mouth to reply, your maths professor walked past, unable to stop himself from commenting.

‘Nice to see you finally put some effort into your appearance Haechan.’

‘Thank you sir. You too!’ Hyuck replied cheekily, before turning back to the two of you with a confused look on his face.

‘Was it just me or was that a little bit weird?’ He asked the two of you.

‘Just a bit, yeah!’ You replied, laughing as Jaemin agreed with you.

The music began to slow down and Jaemin, not wanting to get stuck in the masses of couples who were taking to the dance floor, said a quick goodbye before moving away.

Hyuck gently grabbed your hand with his, wrapping his other hand securely around your waist and pulled you in close to him. You rested your free hand on his shoulder and gently began to sway to the music.

The whole scene felt like something out of a movie. The soft lights were gently shining down on the two of you, making you feel as though you were the only two people there as the atmosphere surrounded you, enclosing you in your own little bubble. You found yourself getting lost in Hyuck’s eyes as the music faded slowly into the background, the sound of your heart beating for the boy in front of you overpowering everything else.

There really was nothing that you wouldn’t do for Hyuck. And, no matter what people told you, no matter what rumours you hear, you knew that you knew him. The real him. Not Haechan, not the bad boy cliche image that he puts up everyday, not everyone else’s perception of him as the kid who didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. You knew Hyuck for who he truly was, all the good, the bad and the ugly. You had seen him at his highs and his lows, you trusted him with your heart and you knew he would never break it.

After all these years of moving and leaving things behind, you had finally found somewhere you could call home. Only it wasn’t a place. It was a person. And you knew that, as long as he was looking down at you with that much love in his eyes, you wouldn’t need any other home ever again.

Maybe senior year wasn’t just the best year of your life as everybody says it is, but also the beginning of the rest of it.

Roll credits.

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Forty-one 

Word count: 2.2k

Tw: nothing major but lmk if i should add anything

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @books-over-boys @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125

On Ao3 or below the cut!

Fitz Pov

    Before letting me in Sophie’s room, Sandor checks me for tracking devices, other than the ones he put in my clothes that Grizel did not realize were there. 

    She doesn’t exactly appreciate the fact that her boyfriend doesn’t trust her enough not to lose me somewhere in a field or not carry Neverseen trackers on me. 

    “Hey,” I say, walking into Sophie’s room and sitting on the bed across from her.

    “Hey,” she replies, smiling. 

    “What’ve you been doing?”

    “Losing my mind. You?”

    “Same, not going to lie.”

    “Telepath time? Or do you want to find a stupidly insane topic and waste a few hours of our lives?”

    “I’ve already wasted enough time before texting you,” I answer. 

    “What kind of Telepathic exercises were you thinking, then?”

    “The classic secret sharing one works pretty well for us. I just want to make sure I haven’t messed up our connection.”

    “Don’t be silly. If it’s messed up, it’s my fault.”

    No you didn’t, I’m tempted to say. But she’s so stubborn it won’t go anywhere.

    “Do you want to start with three out loud? And then test if I can get in?”

    I mentally cringe at the preposition and wait for her to nod before saying, “I’ll go first. I’ve been baking way too much and I’ve eaten more mallowmelt recently than I’m sure is healthy.”

    “I want some of that mallowmelt,” Sophie remarks. “No judgement, right?”

    “Of course.”

    “Because I’ve been stuck in here for so long because someone’s paranoid, I've finally had enough time to update my Solangelo fanfic on fanfiction.net from three years ago.”

    “Okay, I’m going to need some words defined.”

    “Solangelo is the name for the relationship between Nico Di Angelo and Will Solace from the Riordanverse, usually used in a romantic context. There’s a bunch of books, so no plot for you. That’d take forever. Fanfic is basically when a fan of a certain piece of media doesn’t have enough for their liking or doesn’t like what happened in the canon or was bored, so they take the characters and write their own story with them. Sometimes they can be in the same setting, sometimes not so much. We call that an AU, or alternate universe.”

    “Oh. Cool.”

    I’m starting to love learning about human things and asking a gazillion questions.

    “No judgement!”

    “Can I, uh, can I read it?”

    “Oh gosh, no, it’s terrible.”

    “Then why did you bother updating it and what does that even mean?”

    “It means adding new content, in the form of a new chapter, and I was bored. At this rate, I may end up rewriting it with ten times as much angst.”

    “How would one go about writing a fanfic?” 

    I notice Sophie’s bright red from embarrassment, which isn’t all that unexpected. 

    “How I do it, at least, is I let headcanons float around in my brain for a while, which can converge into an idea, which, if it’s persistent enough, can get written down as an idea in my WIP folder, where is will stay unless I go and write it out, but I’ve got enough WIPs that it won’t be. Before you ask, headcanons are little interpretations of the characters that I think make sense with the characters. If they’re widespread through a fandom, then they can be considered fanon. For example, most, if not all, of the Percy Jackson fandom has simply disowned the movies. And WIP stands for ‘work in progress.’”

    “Now I want to know who this Percy Jackson is.”

    Sophie sighs. “It’s a very long story and the last time I read anything canonical, Percy and his girlfriend, Annabeth, were left in Tartarus, and I should really find out what happened between that and Solangelo becoming canon. But there’s this camp of Demigods and then there’s monsters, and titans, and lots of other things, and the more I say, the more I’m going to have to explain. Welp.”

    “Do you mind if I ask what ‘canon’ is?”

    “That’s the least embarrassing thing you’ve asked me to clarify yet. Canon is the official content of the world. Anything contained in the books, movies, show’s episodes, et cetera, is considered canon.”

    “I don’t have any more questions to keep stalling, so I guess it’s my turn. I don’t know if this really counts because my Dad knows, but you don’t. I don’t just know entry level English. I was also taught a bit of Mandarin Chinese, Hindi, Spanish, Arabic, French, and Russian because we had no clue where you were, so my Dad just kept shoving more human languages into my brain with the hope that you’d have learned one of those while growing up. My poor seven year old brain. I’ve lost most of them, but I still remember my Russian swears.”

    “Ah, yes. The most important part of a language, other than ‘Where is the bathroom?’ But how’d a seven year old learn how to swear?”

    “We were searching for a long time and people kept telling me to go away the mean way. I mean, most places had basically the same reaction to me, but Russia’s so huge it stuck with me more, I guess.”

    “That’s interesting. Why hasn’t this come up earlier? It seems like an easy thing to admit compared to some other things, but, yes, I’ll count it.”

    Keefe’s a wanker, that’s why. 

    “Biana was being particularly annoying today and I accidentally switched to Spanish…”

    “Oops. My turn I guess. I also used to write fics for Destiel and I definitely wasn’t involved in the bisexual!Bella Twilight fandom. And also Klaine. I miss Klaine.”

    “What are these words?”

    “Ship names, mostly. Destiel is the ship name of Castiel and from the show Supernatural. Never seen it. Just read that many fics. Twilight’s...a fandom. That’s all I’m going to say. Books made into movies. Klaine is the ship name of and from Glee. It’s the one of these things that is actually canonical.”

    “Back to my turn.” I sigh. “Dex has successfully made me unable to unhear phrases or clauses or sentences or somethings--I don’t know the grammar well enough sorry--that end in a preposition, but he knows that, so…”

    “He might know that, but does he know that you have no clue what the correct rules are?”

    “No. But it’s still not the best secret I could’ve shared.”

    “Fine. A pathetic secret for a pathetic secret. I hid Amy’s karaoke machine before you took me here and she hasn’t gotten it back since to my knowledge. And the world is better for it.” 

    “That’s not a pathetic secret, it’s a useful one. Remind me to make sure Biana’s iPod gets lost.”

     ‘Lost’ is obviously contained within air quotes. 

    “How’d she manage to get an iPod?”

    “Dex is building them for everyone at this point. He built himself one when he was working on yours and now...Biana’s blasting everyone’s eardrums out. I think that was our third round, so Cognate test time?”

   “Okay. If you’re ready,” Sophie replies. 

    Lacing our fingers together, it takes somewhere in the range of several minutes of chanting It’s me before Sophie’s mind gives me that familiar tug. 

    She’s thinking about a uvula. 

    Always with the uvulas. 

    Oh, hey. I didn’t see you there. 

    Wow. I forgot how intense your mind is.

    Sorry. 

    It’s not your fault. I know I have to transmit super loud to get anything in there. I’m probably going to have a mild headache after this, that’s all. 

    Quiet down, brain, Sophie thinks. Can’t you see we have company? Behave. 

    I smile. 

    I guess we should continue sharing secrets. One time, I put green hair dye in Biana’s shampoo and blamed it on Keefe. To this day, she still believes he lied to her about it.

   That’s amazing. Now I have good blackmail.

    Nope. It’s part of the Cognate bond that I have to have full trust in you, and threatening to share my secrets isn’t good for that.

    Okay. Fine. Try not to tell anyone this, then.

    Five secrets each, which turns out to be about an hour later, it’s my turn again. 

    I’m running out of secrets. 

    Quietly, my least favorite little voice in my head tries, you could--.

    NOPE.

    I can feel Sophie’s confusion as more of an abstract thought than a verbal one. 

    Nope. Nope. Nope. That’s off limits. 

    What’s off limits? Sophie asks innocently. 

    Telling you would defeat the point, I snap. 

    Sophie mumbles something, and I ask, What?

    Nothing!

    It’s just tough for me because I can’t imagine sharing this one but at the same time we’re cognates and I have to tell you everything. 

    Do you want to call it good for today and do dumb friend things?

    I blink, breaking eye contact, and run my hands through my hair as soon as I get them untangled from Sophie’s.

    Sophie gives me Ella, but it does little to slow my racing thoughts trying to form a rudimentary pros and cons list. They don’t help the headache that started pounding at my temples a half-hour ago either. 

    “Just do what your gut is telling you to do,” Sophie suggests, rather unhelpfully if you ask me. 

    “My gut says it wants to be outside my body. So, no.”

    Sophie sighs, and I think the pros and cons chart has organized itself into a clear solution.

    Gathering my nonexistent courage, I force out, “I think I might be bisexual.”

    Sophie stops. 

    “Oh. Was not expecting that. Okay. I didn’t realize Elves could be, you know. I mean, it makes sense, but it’d never occurred to me.”

    “Me neither, as of like two weeks ago.”

    “That’s, uh...that’s pretty recent of you there.”

    I clarify, “That’s not when I started questioning. That was five days ago.”

    “Do you mind me asking who your bi awakening was?”

    “I’m not really ready for that much yet. But I’ll get there eventually.”

    “Makes sense. Can same-sex couples be on each other’s match lists or get married?”

    “Not to my knowledge. Again, I learned that not all people are straight two weeks ago, and that was my brother, so I was almost certain he’d lost his mind. And before you fixate on the conclusion that if I were to date a guy, it’d inevitably be a Bad Match, so there’s no way I’m going to do that.”

    “Well, why not?” Sophie asks. 

    “It’d be a Bad Match,” I answer, thinking that it’s obvious.

    “Not if nobody knew.”

    “So I’d potentially have to lie for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

    “Maybe not all of it. Maybe in a century or two, attitudes towards the Matchmaking system will be different.”

    “Or I can definitely find a nice girl on one of my match lists and not have to worry.”

    “So you’re telling me that you’d settle for a nice girl if she was on your Match Lists instead of going out on a limb to find the perfect person for you?”

    “The matchmaking system was designed to match up people to have the strongest possible kids and take into account personal tastes, so yes.”

    “That’s what it’s become. Was it not designed to make sure relatives don’t marry each other?”

    She’s got me there. “How would I go about proving that I’m not related to, you know…” 

    I’m not quite sure how to phrase it. 

    “Your current hyperfixation?” Sophie suggests. 

    That works. 

    “Do some research. The US will allow marriage between third cousins. At least that’s what I remember. I don’t know why I know that. They’ll have shared two of their sixteen great-great-grandparents. Add another generation or two and it’ll be far enough to be negligible, and follow down the family trees. It’ll as least cover the worst of it. And the whole point of not marrying family is to reduce the likelihood of certain recessive genetic diseases. Like the Habsburg chin.”

    Sophie shows me a picture of a guy she calls, “Charles the second of Spain.”

    His chin doesn’t look healthy. 

    “Oh,” I manage, considering all the marriages of cousins that must’ve led to this. 

    “You haven’t even heard of Alabama. Don’t ask.”

    “...what’s wrong with this Alabama?”

    “I told you not to ask. Do you have any more worries I have to prove aren’t as justified as you think they are?”

    “What if the subject of my current hyperfixation, as you called him, hates me?”

    “I don’t know. Take a chance, lay out your emotions, and see what happens?”

    I raise a suspicious eyebrow. 

    Because you did that with me. 

    Before I can argue, my Imparter buzzes with a message from Biana. 

    “Biana says that it’s time for me to eat dinner, so I’ve got to get home. Bye. I’ll see you later.”

   “Please come over here as much as you want. Please. Bye. The only reason I’m letting you leave is because I know you’ll come back.”

    Interrupting the death glaring contest between Sandor and Grizel, I leap away, feeling lighter than usual. 

    When I see Biana, she asks me, “So. What did you and Sophie talk about?”

    “The fact that you just ended a sentence in a preposition,” I reply, barely suppressing a smirk. Although I’m not sure why it wanted to tug at my lips.     

[dreamescapeswriting]

Unfinished Business ~ Part 4

WORD COUNT: 4.5K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part four of nine of my new Bang Chan series. 

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

The next morning you were walked down to the breakfast table as though you were some kind of prisoner, Seungmin apologised when he had to take you but you kept your mouth shut not wanting to breathe a word to anyone after last night. You hadn't slept at all, you couldn't get the images out of your head. It was hard to move something like that from your mind, she was like family to you and just like that she was gone. Sitting at the table was Chan, he was reading through something you didn't care about so you sat down where the empty plate was and it was soon being plated with food by Felix who gave you a sympathetic look. They all knew what had happened inside of that room and yet did nothing to help you stop it.

"How's your ankle?" Chan asked not lifting his eyes from the paper he was reading from, searching for any news on Namjoon or about what had happened with Mrs Lu - there was nothing there. He wanted to move his eyes from the paper though, he wanted to look at you and see that you were okay. He knew you wouldn't speak much after what he'd put you through the night before. He knew that it was harsh but it was what had to be done, even after a lengthy conversation with Felix about it, it was what was needed.

"Fine." You mumbled taking the cup of tea that had been poured for you by Jeongin and sipping on it ignoring the burning sensation on your tongue as the liquid hit it,

"Eat something," He said firmly, finally glancing at you from across the table, he could already tell you hadn't slept. Your hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail, you were wearing sweats and a baggy shirt not to mention you had bags under your eyes, Felix said he'd heard you crying when it was his shift so that explained your eyes looking so bloodshot and your nose being red.

"Is the bedroom not to your standards? I can have a new bed brought in if you'd sleep better on it?" You hated that his voice was laced with concern for you and your wellbeing when he'd been nothing but mean from the moment you came to him - or rather were kidnapped by him.

"It's fine. Couldn't sleep. Nightmares." Your voice was monotone as you stared at the plate in front of you not wanting to eat anything that had been placed in front of you.

"I'm not hungry. Can I leave the table?" It felt as though you were talking to your parents when you were younger,

"Not until you eat something. You didn't have anything last night." You looked at the food and took the apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table, biting into it while staring at Chan smugly who just sniggered at you.

"I'll give you it." He put the paper down and leant on the table with his hands as he stood up from under the table, dressed in his usual suit and tie.

"Han said you wanted to go out and pick paint. We'll make a day trip of it." You swallowed the chunk of apple you'd been chewing on out of surprise and stared at him, this was some kind of test it just had to be.

"You said I wasn't allowed out-"

"Unless accompanied, unless you're still planning on running..." He buttoned his suit jacket up looking at you with a raised eyebrow, it was now that you realised one of them had a slit in it but it wasn't shaved, it was a faint scar.

"No! No, I won't. I said I'll stay." You meant it, you meant everything you'd said. You weren't going to try escaping if it meant more people would die because of you. It wasn't worth it.

"Good. Jisung will bring you up a dress to change into. I'm still having a wardrobe picked out to match you perfectly." You nodded and slowly got up from the table, too scared to make some kind of wrong move around him. Then you began walking with Seungmin past Chan when his hand reached out to touch your wrist, you flinched and he froze. He stared at you for a couple of seconds forgetting everything he was going to say to you when he saw the way you flinched at his touch,

"I-" He forgot everything he'd wanted to say when he stared into your eyes, he could see the fear that you held in them. Your eyes danced from his eyes to his wrist and he let go not wanting to upset you anymore than he already had.

"Make sure she has some ice for her ankle, and bandage it up." He said to Seungmin but his eyes never left yours, you could have sworn that he looked concerned for you and he was. He felt terrible for your ankle, the moment he'd grabbed your ankle he wanted to punch himself in the gut. He knew how painful it could be to be chained up like that and he felt awful for doing it to you the moment it happened.

"Thanks," You whispered to him, quickly leaving him there going towards the staircase with Seungmin who then left you at the bottom of the staircase with Jisung who also felt terrible for what had happened. Except he was the only one showing it clearly, he'd never liked the killing aspect of their life, he never liked this life he only stuck around because of Chan and the boys. He began taking you up the stairs making sure to walk slowly enough so you wouldn't damage the ankle more.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, wait here," Jisung said as he left to go into the en-suite within your room, you stared at the door where you could see him reaching through the cupboards above the sink. You felt bad for running out on him the night before but you had to try and get out. He'd been the only one to show you any kind of kindness except for Felix and Jeongin.

"Why does he do that?" The question came out without context when Jisung came back into the room with some scissors and a bandage, he patted the bed and you followed his orders sitting down lifting your foot to sit on his knee.

"Do what?" He began wrapping up your ankle in a blue bandage to keep the pressure on it and you hissed as he applied more and more pressure each time he wrapped the bandage around, it wasn't awful like Chan's the night before. It felt nice to have it there.

"He acts like he cares when he clearly doesn't after what he did to me." Jisung sighed looking at you from the corner of his eye, he thought you would have been smart enough to see through Chan's clear facade but he was wrong about that.

"I told you. We don't like to kill-" He tried to defend him again but you weren't going to let him.

"And yet he did," He gave you the side-eye he wanted to tell you the truth about everything, about last night and how things weren't always what they seemed to be but he continued to bandage your ankle up in silence deciding he valued his life.

"I have no explanation for anything Chan does, all I have is an excuse that isn't mine to give out. Just know that somewhere deep inside his head he's doing it because he cares." That was all he could say to you without going too into detail about everything that went on inside Chan's head, the original plan for you was changing day to day depending on Chan's mood and it was giving Jisung and the boys whiplash. Your mind was being torn to shreds. Cares? He didn't even know you?

"He cares for me? He doesn't know me-"

"He knows enough, we all do." The folder. You looked at the floor and tried to remember what was inside the folder, everything. Every single detail about your life no matter how big or small was in that folder, your parents, your grandparents, all of your jobs from the ages of 11 and up. If someone read it they could say they'd known you since birth, passed off as you if they wanted to commit identity fraud.

"But why?" you asked. Jisung scoffed and helped you stand back up on your feet, you could finally put pressure on your ankle without it sending shooting pains throughout your leg.

"You're going to ask me to explain his complex brain?" You knew it was a long shot when you asked so you nodded at him and he pointed at another floral dress sitting on the hanger on your wardrobe door deciding he wasn't going to talk about it any more than he had. He could get into trouble for what he'd already told you.

"He doesn't like to be kept waiting." He said simply as you nodded in understanding and he left the room for you to get changed, standing just outside the door so he could walk you downstairs when you were finished.

Walking around the mall with Chan was weird - mostly because you were hand in hand with him but also because people were staring the whole time. The hand holding was his idea, he knew it was one way he could get all eyes on both of you and that was what he needed. Eyes were on you wherever you went, you thought it was just because of who Chan was but he told you it was because he hadn't been seen with a female companion in a while.

"They're staring at me?" You whispered as you walked past another couple who both stared at you blatantly obviously, both of them mumbling to the other about you as you walked, the woman's hand covering her mouth as she obviously said something to her partner. You looked at the dress feeling insecure but Chan stopped once he realised where your mind was going,

"They don't like seeing powerful men with a woman at his side. You look fine. The dress is perfect." Before you could argue with him he pointed at the paint shop you'd requested to go to and you walked inside head hanging low as you tried not to think about people looking at you. His hand never left yours and when the man behind the counter began talking to you his grip tightened,

"Can I get classical white, runaway blue, and a set of your acrylic paints and paintbrushes please?" You said to him, trying not to stare at him as he stared at your hand with Chans you wanted to beg for him to save you but images of the night before raised back into your head, along with images of your grandfather.

"I have to take this," Chan said as his phone started to ring loudly in his top pocket he moved away from you and out of the shop, Felix stood in the door to make sure no one else could go in or out of the shop without him knowing about it.

"Would you like to see the paint being mixed?" The man asked with wide eyes trying to think of a way that he could talk to you in private he'd seen this before with Chan's type,

"I'd love to." Your voice came out shaky and uneasy so you followed him over to the paint shaker and he started it up it was loud enough to cover up the conversation he was going to have with you,

"Do you need help? We can get you out...Just say the word and I'll sneak you out of the back-" A hand was placed on your shoulder before it moved and a voice spoke out,

"That won't be necessary will it, baby girl?" Your whole body was on edge as you heard him call you baby girl again, his arm wrapped around your waist and you felt sick for the man's safety.

"No. I'm fine thank you." Your monotone was back and the man stared between you and Chan and you gave him a knowing look not to press for anything, maybe that had been the real reason everyone had been staring. They were trying to break you away from Chan and get you safe. It was no secret who Chan was; him and the boys were practically famous for what they did. You took Chan over to some canvas' and his hand tightened on your waist as he grew angrier, his pulse racing as he thought about someone taking you away from him. His pulse was beating so much you could feel it on your hip where his arm was resting.

"I'll kill him-" This time your pulse raced,

"He was just worried about someone's safety. Don't hurt him. I'm staying. I'm here. I'll stay," You promised with him and linked your hands together once more to show him that it was the truth, his pulse slowed back down and his expression softened as he locked eyes with you.

"I'm not going anywhere," You matched his soft expression and he looked at you wondering why you were being so nice to the man when you didn't know him but then he remembered the file. You'd always been nice to everyone, volunteering at the nursing home, at the hospital and regularly working for charities. Which reminded him of something he had to do soon and he wanted to ask you too.

"I have something to ask of you." He walked you over to some more paints and you nodded, you'd do anything if it meant no one else would die because of you.

"I regularly attend a charity event and would you like to go with me?" Charity? He...donated to charity your blood boiled at the thought of him only doing it to make up for the shit he did.

"What is that? Your sick kind of way of making up for all of the terrible things you do to people?" The words slipped out before you could even think about them and he looked mortified as you said that to him, it wasn't true at all. It couldn't have been further from the truth, the charity was something he held close to him that he'd been doing long before he came into this lifestyle. You could tell by the look on his face that you'd hurt him and you felt bad for a second, fearing that if you stepped out of line something could happen you tried to justify yourself.

"S-Sorry. I didn't think-"

"It's a charity I hold close to my heart. You will attend the function with me." It wasn't a question this time it was a statement, you were going and you had no choice in the matter. You nodded at him knowing the repercussions if you didn't say yes and he went back to looking at the paint like everything was normal.

Chan was off again on business, the moment you were done inside of the shop he told you he had to leave and you were sent home alone with Jisung, Hyunjin and Jeongin who were watching you closely as you walked around your bedroom as if they had nothing better to do with their time.

"Do you have any plastic covers, Chan didn't get some earlier." Jisung and Hyunjin exchanged looks as if they were having some kind of psychic conversation together.

"There's some in the office," Jeongin said nodding for you to follow him into the office across the hall so you did, walking behind him as he got into the room. You stood in the door and images came flooding back from what had happened the night before, the carpet was gone and replaced with laminate flooring as if nothing had happened. Jeongin followed your gaze as he realised what he'd done and where he'd brought you.

"Shit. Sorry, I forgot-" He was so used to this life he'd forgotten how it affected those who weren't used to this,

"It's fine," You lied looking down at your hands instead of the flooring. He began looking through drawers when you saw a bookshelf, sitting there in the centre shelf was a photograph of Chan and another woman.

"Who's this?" You asked, opening the glass doors to take a closer look at the image that was sitting there. Jeongin glanced up at you, panic rushing through him as you touched the photo. Chan hated it when people touched his stuff.

"Chan's wife. Shes- Shes not with us anymore." You ran your fingers over the photograph, she looked like you. She looked a lot like you, from the hair right down to the dress you were wearing. So that was what he was doing? He saw his wife in you and was trying to replace her with you? You put the photograph back down and Jeongin held up the covers he'd gotten from the bottom drawer. Maybe his ex-wife was the way out for you, maybe her being his weakness was your way out. Make him fall for you, make him weak and escape when he doesn’t see it coming?

"What are you painting?" He questioned as you walked out of the office. He locked the door and added the key into his pocket. Everyone had a key to the office by the looks of it.

"Sunflowers." You whispered as he walked you into the room, Jisung was alone now as he looked at the wall you were planning on painting on.

"Hyunjin is cooking us something to eat, Jeongin go and help him." The small boy left the room after dropping the covers onto your bed for you to sort out. You looked at Jisung from the corner of your eye as you poured paint out into the containers.

"You're being awfully calm for someone who'd spent the day with someone she hates," You ignored his comment, not wanting to raise any suspicion and took the roller dipping it into the sky blue paint.

"He was kinder...didn't hurt that man." He hummed at you, not believing it for even a second and stared as you starting to add a light blue to the wall.

"You didn't try to escape, that was the only reason he didn't do anything. Don't think he's going soft on you." You hummed this time, not believing him and he shook his head at you. All that filled your head was the photo of his wife and Chan together. His arms wrapped around her waist as he had a huge smile on his face, so big you could see dimples on the sides of his cheeks.

"How did he lose his wife?" You asked without moving your eyes from the wall it was an innocent enough question but you didn't want it to seem as though you were prying him for information because you weren't.

"Why?" You shook your head and looked over at him,

"I saw the photo. She looked young." He looked down at the floor. They weren't supposed to talk about her. They were supposed to keep their mouths shut. You weren’t even supposed to know that he’d had a wife so Jeongin had fucked up by letting you see the photograph.

"Is she the reason you're not allowed to listen to music?" He knew you were up to something the minute you asked that question and he cut everything short not having time for the bullshit.

"Whatever you're planning, get it out of your head now. Unless you want a repeat of Mrs Lu with your grandfather." You stared at him as he brought your grandfather up into the conversation,

"Do you think I'd plan anything after what I saw last night! She was like a mother to me and he ripped her away. I wouldn't disobey him again." It was only partially true, you were planning to get away but you were planning on making it easier on everyone else first.

Chan walked up the staircase to see Minho was asleep outside of your room, his head resting on a wall. He didn't blame him, it had been a long day at the offices. They were all tired and he was about to head to his own bed when he heard soft humming coming from your room, he was surprised you were still awake after not sleeping the night before. He pushed the door open silently to see you standing there with a paintbrush in your hand, you were sitting crossed-legged on a set of chest drawers sitting so close to the wall your nose could have some paint on it. He knew the tune you were humming but he couldn't place what it was, he watched as you added another brush stroke to the wall. He made his way inside until he was standing right behind you, you hadn't heard him thanks to your humming which had slowly turned into softly sung lyrics.

"Your favourite?" You fell backwards, your legs spralling out in front of you to try and catch yourself but Chan caught you quickly before you could hurt yourself. Your arms resting on his as you stared up at him and you realised you'd painted a bright yellow stripe down his suit jacket.

"Sorry, it'll come right out if you wash it right now." You struggled out of his arms and stripped off his jacket rushing into the en-suite where you panicked trying to wash the paint off his jacket. His hands rested on your arms to stop you moving so fast and for a split second, it felt nice to have him this close to you, a spark rushing up and down your body making you feel a little uneasy.

"It's fine. I can have it dry cleaned." He slipped it out from under the water and hung it over the shower since it was wet.

"You're scared of me?" You nodded at him and he tried not to sigh, it wasn't what he wanted at all he didn't want you to fear him this badly.

"They are." He frowned confused as you answered something else,

"My favourite, you asked. They are." You said pointing over at the sunflowers on the wall.

"You should be asleep, you haven't slept for almost 48 hours." You looked at the watch on his wrist to see that it was almost 3 am,

"I can't sleep....always struggled." You admitted to him and he nodded in understanding. He'd also struggled with his sleep for a long time which meant he had tips to help you.

"I struggle with sleep too." You ignored the need to make a quip about what he did for a living was probably keeping him up at night and he walked you over to the giant double bed pulling back the sheets for you.

"But you should sleep, we have an event later in the week and I need you to be well-rested for it." You got under the covers and stared at him as he tucked you into the bed and started humming to the song you'd been singing. So music wasn't something he hated completely. That was something that you could work with.

"Can I have a radio tomorrow? To work with while I paint?" He stared at you.

"I don't like music." He answered plainly not looking away from your eyes,

"Oh...Okay." He could tell how disappointed you were and he looked down at you. He hated seeing you look so disappointed about something, he never wanted to see that look again even if it meant doing something he didn't like.

"I'll see what I can do." He brushed the hair from your face and kissed your forehead. Softly sparks shot through your body and you stared at him trying not to give signs away that you felt them. You couldn't fall for him, not after what he did and who he was, he'd killed  Mrs Lu, he ran drug cartels, money laundering, cold-blooded murder, gang wars and...Well, there were many rumours...Not everything had to be true did it? You wanted to question him on that now, find out what exactly was and wasn't true with him and his crew. Trying to get your head back into your plan, instead of what Chan did for a living, you questioned him on the music subject,

"Why don't you like music?" You shifted over in the bed so he could sit beside you, he stared at the space and you stared into his eyes.

"Tell me." You pleaded, placing your hand on his as he sat down on the space you'd left for him. He felt his heart warm up as you talked to him calmly and touched him because you wanted to, not because he was forcing you to.

"It's nothing, just something that used to be played a lot in the house and then there was no need for it." He took his hand away from you not wanting to get into this, it was too much for one night, he'd already told you too much. You were just supposed to be bait for Namjoon but he was starting to feel more for you, he got off the bed quickly and left the room slamming the door so hard that Minho jumped awake and stared at his boss rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"She likes music."

"That would be nice...right?" Minho and Felix had really been the only ones to calm Chan down when he got bad like this when he got upset over his wife. They'd been there for him the longest and it was them he could trust the most. Chan hummed in answer of Minho’s question and walked into his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He walked over to the photo frames that lined his desk, all him and his wife together in the earlier days of the marriage.

"Every day I miss you a little more." But there was something else taking over his heart, he stared at the photos and he no longer felt hurt by them. It was more of a feeling of peace as he stared at his once happy wife, but he was starting to picture his life with you instead of with her. He took the frames and placed them into the bottom drawer of a desk inside his bedroom and began changing out of his suit. He hated that he snapped at you like that, but he didn't want you knowing his weaknesses, you'd use them against him just like everyone else did. Just like Namjoon did with her...but then again. The plan had been to lure Namjoon out of the shadows with you, use you as bait to get the confession from Namjoon but now he could use it to his advantage. Namjoon could scare you into staying with him and Chan wouldn't have to be the bad guy anymore...He could be the one trying to protect you instead he just had to come up with a way to get it to work.

Tagline: @moonprincessdiviniation​ - my beautiful and wonderful editor, @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @hugs4chan​ @ncitythoughts​ @inseonqt​ @cloudsgathering​

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 14: Day Tripping

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder awakes the next morning with his face crammed into his pillow, squeaky leather couch cushions groaning, and for the first time in years he thinks maybe he should get a bed. For his own sake, of course; sofas aren’t meant for long term sleeping, and his joints aren’t getting any younger. It seems prudent to invest in a bed frame, a good mattress, maybe some nice sheets.

And hell, if a certain small redhead happens to come by…

He has a slight crick in his neck, but it fades into the background as his memory replays the night before. Pad Thai, Scully’s big blue eyes, ice cream, soft lips under the cover of branches. Requited affection at last.

He doesn’t know where they’ll go from here, but he’s eager to find out.

He waltzes into the basement office, freshly showered and shaved and wearing his least offensive tie. Scully’s already there, digging through her briefcase.

���Morning, Scully,” he says cheerily, dropping into his chair and searching her face, attempting to make eye contact.

“Morning,” she replies, not looking up.

“I had a, uh, good time last night,” he says in a low voice. “Best night I’ve had in years.”

She nods, cheeks faintly pink. “It was nice,” she says carefully.

Something’s wrong.

“Scully, are you okay?” he asks, leaning in.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she replies, exhaling softly. “But I don’t want to talk about this now.”

Disappointment and dread creep into his chest, spreading a chill like midnight frost.

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asks, voice suddenly small.

“No,” she clarifies, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m not, I promise. It’s just that things look different in the light of day, and I’m adjusting.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” he says, worrying the end of a pencil between his teeth.

“It’s not meant to,” Scully replies. She sits down opposite him and reaches into their inbox on the desk, hauling out a stack of files. “It’s just the truth.”

They’re quiet for a long moment before she reaches out and places a hand atop his on the desk, squeezing gently before withdrawing it and returning to leafing through files.

She knows exactly how to comfort him, to communicate that things are alright, they’re alright, and that he doesn’t need to worry right now. A paragraph in the touch of a hand. Their eyes meet, and she gives him a tentative smile, causing warmth to bloom in his chest once more.

They sort through potential cases for an hour before Mulder makes a triumphant sound in his throat.

“Got one, Scully,” he announces, handing her a file. “Equine mutilations in Gettysburg. Wanna go check it out?”

Scully opens the folder and immediately frowns. “Not really, but if I say no you’ll go anyway,” she sighs, flipping through the pages. “And then when you get lost in some cave or stuck in the bottom of a well or something and are in need of a rescue, who’ll inform the local authorities? Oh god,” she says in realization. “I’m Lassie.”

“There’s a filthy joke in there somewhere, Scully-”

“-And right now’s not the time to find it,” she cuts in, giving him a patented eyebrow arch.

“Let me know when that time’ll be,” he says in a low tone. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Dead horses, Mulder,” she reminds him, waving a gruesome photo. She sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”

Mulder’s in a great mood. The sun is out, they have a case, and he kissed Dana Scully last night. Twice. He’s actually humming as he drives, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Nothing lights you up quite like mutilated livestock, Mulder,” Scully observes, shaking her head. “What are you hoping to find? More vampires?”

“Civil War ghosts, actually,” he replies, adjusting his mirrors. “Think about it, Scully. Those wounds lacked the consistent placement and patterns we usually see in ritualistic killings, nor did they resemble animal attacks. I’ll bet if we compared the wounds with weapons and ammunition from the era, we’d get some matches.”

“To what end?” Scully asks.

“If I’m right, we’ll see some ghosts. If I’m wrong, we’ll stop some sicko from slaughtering more horses. We can’t lose.”

“Hm,” Scully replies, the brief exhalation steeped in skepticism. He knows the meaning of each little hum and sound of hers at this point.

Well obviously not all of them, he thinks, pulse quickening. But soon.

“So,” he says, cracking a sunflower seed between his teeth, “About last night.”

“It happened, if you were unsure,” she confirms. “It was real. I was there.”

“Funny,” he quips. “No, I know it happened. I just wanted to make sure you were okay that it did. You seemed a little uncomfortable when I came into the office this morning.”

Scully sighs deeply, and Mulder braces himself for a rejection he’d always feared would come.

“Mulder, yesterday I told you that I spent years repressing certain facets of how I feel about you,” she reminds him. “And only yesterday I found out that… that I don’t need to do that anymore. I’m simply adjusting. It’s all very new, and seeing you this morning in our office… you looked the same, everything looked the same, but I felt different. Frankly, it was jarring. It was like watching two planets collide; Mulder the colleague and friend, and Mulder the… the lover,” she says quietly.

Lover. The words gives him a thrill. “Am I your lover, Scully?” he asks softly.

“Well, you did kiss me twice,” she replies matter-of-factly, “So I think you’re on your way.”

“Then that makes you my lover,” he says, almost to himself. “You’re right; this does feel kind of weird.”

“Not a bad weird,” Scully clarifies. “Just… new. I think we just need practice.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” Mulder agrees, flashing her a grin.

Scully rolls her eyes, turning to look out the window as though to hide the smile creeping across her face. “Just drive, Mulder.”

They get to East Cavalry Field at half-past noon, just in time to enjoy the sights. Namely, the latest victim, a Clydesdale named Morris. The warm spring sun pours down on them and the fallen animal, illuminating the gore spilling from its lifeless body.

“Well, Mulder,” Scully says flatly, snapping on a pair of gloves, “You sure do know how to show a girl a good time.”

They drive home six and a half hours later, having gathered little new information. A musket ball, borrowed from a local museum, rolls around one of the cupholders.

“Mulder, are you sure they said you could take that thing back to DC?” Scully asks, glancing at the ball. “Why didn’t they put it in some kind of bag or envelope?”

“What are you implying?” Mulder asks, plucking the ball out of the cupholder and awkwardly tucking it into his pants pocket.

She just gives him a look.

“Civil War musket balls aren’t that rare, Scully,” he informs her. “You can buy them off history buffs for a couple bucks.”

“Mulder, my feet hurt, and I’m exhausted. At this point I don’t care anymore.” She doesn’t even bother to stifle her yawn. “And I spent the day poking around dead horses, even though I’m not a veterinarian or a munitions expert. You owe me.”

“Alright, what do you want in reparation?” he asks. I can think of a few things, but we’re not there yet…

“I don’t know. Take me out on a date,” she says flippantly. “We never do anything nice. Preferably something with no mutilated corpses.”

“Damn, that really narrows down the options,” he jokes. “But sure; we’ll go do something nice.”

“Let me know what it is ahead of time,” she adds. “So I know what to wear.”

God, she’s adorable.

“It’s a date,” he confirms, and he can feel his heart pulse.

They’re doing this for real.

[neonponders]

Part 1 of this mafia_au here ~ nurse!Steve and mobster!Billy

• • • • • • •

The only reason Billy got a pair of cuffs on his wrists was because he went to the hospital. Hospitals were required to involve the police when suspicious wounds entered the building.

Now he lay patiently in his cell of the police station. Ironically, the safest place in town. Plus, Hopper did good work. Efficient. Billy knew he wouldn’t have to wait too long -

“Hargrove. You’re up.”

He swiveled his hips so his feet touched the ground, and rocked himself up to standing. The cop placed the handcuffs on his wrists through the sanctioned gap in the bars, and then opened the door. Billy strolled as contently as a handcuffed man could through the sterile, boring hallways between the cells and the interrogation room.

He sat once again in the steel chair, and waited some more.

This was an annoying tactic, making the person wait for a conversation. He supposed it worked on common people and smaller criminals, but Billy simply retreated back into his meditative space, where a full album of music played on loop...

The door opened, and he lifted his gaze to see Steve holding his file and warily looking between Billy and the seat opposite him.

Billy smiled much as he had the first time he woke up to Steve removing his blood transfusion needle. “Hi.”

Steve only sighed as he settled into his chair, and flicked annoyed eyes at him from behind his glasses. Billy liked his glasses. He also liked Steve without them.

“What’s your prescription?”

Steve blinked vacantly up at him. “Huh?”

Billy lifted his cuffed hands onto the table, one of them pointing, “Your glasses.”

Steve stared at him, and then his irises distinctly cut to the side. Billy’s own flicked to his ears, where he could just see an earpiece hiding beneath his hair.

“I probably don’t have to tell you this,” Steve listened to Hopper’s patient drone, “but the fewer questions he asks to you, the better. Don’t let him distract you.”

He swallowed thickly and took out the pictures inside of the file. “Do you know these people?”

Billy cast his attention over the images and knocked two of them back toward the file. “Those two don’t matter. The red-head is a test. To see how honest I’ll be. It’s my stepsister.”

Steve began to tuck the images back into a neat pile, but his gaze lingered on the teenager while he listened to the voice in his ear. Then, “She’s missing.”

“No, she isn’t. She’s at a safe house. And no, they don’t get to know where that is.”

Steve didn’t give that much of a response as he began sifting through the papers - 

“I don’t read quickly!” he shouted at the two-way mirror.

That caught Billy off-guard. But a moment later, he turned his head to laugh into his bicep. He could just picture Hopper harrumphing under his mustache.

“Is that legal?”

Billy perked up. “What? A safe house?” He shrugged. “A person on my property with my permission? Yeah.”

Steve slumped a little to the side. “With their permission?”

He shrugged again. “She gets out of school for a week. She’s thrilled.”

“Is there documentation of this place?”

Billy smiled. “Somewhere.”

A sigh heaved out of Steve as he bowed his head and started rummaging through his hair. Billy couldn’t blame him; a full week of shifts at the hospital and then Hopper probably interrogated him before allowing him to be in the room with Billy. Steve would certainly be at the end of his limits.

“Why? Why why why why,” he lifted his head for his brassy-gold glasses to be hanging low on his nose, “why am I here, Billy? You already know everything that’s in this folder.”

“I wanted to see you,” he said softly. Then he leaned forward and purred, “They handle me roughly here. I think my stitches might’ve tore.”

“Well you’re gonna be screwed in prison, and you’re way too pretty to survive that place - ”

“I wanted to see you. Sue me.”

“What are my chances?”

“Not great. My lawyers are excellent.”

Steve’s eyes squinted dramatically with thought as he pushed his glasses back up and leaned back in his chair. “Hmm...”

Billy wiggled a little as a grin flashed across his face. “You’re still my nurse until my stitches are out.”

Those large doe eyes widened. He gestured around the room. “Whatever this is, is outside of my pay grade and degree. Now how about you walk me through what happened.”

A lingering smile kept Billy’s features warm. Steve had said as much in the hospital, after the doctor stormed out of his private room and probably reported his ass to these people.

“On Wednesday, May 2nd, I got wind that someone was looking too closely at my stepsister. She already has some little nobody for a boyfriend so I knew this was something different. I told her to spend the weekend with him, and don’t go home. Either I pick her up, or she stays put. 

“She listens as well as I do.

“Come Saturday, May 5th, at...” his clear, turquoise eyes sparked off the harsh fluorescent light as he calculated, “7pm, give or take, I’m intervening a simultaneous breaking and entering, assault and battery, and kidnapping/hostage situation. Boyfriend is knocked out on his stoop. House is empty of parents because - well, teenagers.”

Steve tipped his head to that, understanding how teens would manage to be alone in a house together.

“I get my arm shredded and my aorta is almost sliced open, but by all means, hold me in custody instead of going after the other side of this ordeal.”

Steve glanced nervously at the window when Billy raised his voice at it. “Also, the boyfriend is black. I haven’t heard a word about him.” He leaned back with a blatant, derisive scoff. “Pigs believing they’re better than wolves.”

“Saturday?”

Billy’s sharp gaze locked onto him even though his voice matched Steve’s quieter tone. “Saturday.”

“Which would mean you were in the hospital until Tuesday.”

He nodded once. “Discharged at 1pm - ”

Steve’s shoulders hitched when Hopper swept through the door behind him. The nurse looked almost like a teenager next to the bear of a man licking his finger to move through the file pages quickly.

Billy’s feet found Steve’s under the table, pushing them together to frame them in between his own. Steve peered at him, a question in his eyes but Billy waited for Hopper to find what he wanted.

Steve could only lean out of the man’s way as he slammed a hand on the table, shut the file with more force than paper or card stock ever needed, and then marched out of the room. His bellow reverberated down the hallway. “GOD DAMNIT, HE HAS AN ALIBI!”

Billy kept his snicker to a minimum while Steve took his time processing that. “An alibi for what?”

He lifted his hands to scratch his nose. “Something I wasn’t there for, clearly.”

Steve gaped at him and hunched over the table. “But - wha- Your sister? Was that all bullshit?”

“Hopper makes me wait all the time.”

His back hit the chair once again as he shoved his fingers into his hair. “Oh my god, you’re so petty.”

Billy chuckled as a pair of officers came in and ushered them out of the room. Billy was pushed into a chair in the large cubicle room to work through his check-out process. Steve wasn’t far off, stuck at a similar desk doing basically the same thing.

Then all of the phones went off simultaneously. Some of the cops looked around at each other while picking up the receiver...

The room swiftly cleared by two-thirds, but Hopper returned to stand between Billy and Steve’s desks. The latter waited with tired eyes while the former fidgeted with the chain hanging between his wrists.

“Steve...the nurse on your routes was just murdered.”

That...didn’t quite land yet, until Billy mumbled, “You’re welcome.”

Steve’s head whipped around while Hopper scowled. “You’re not going anywhere. Not without a goddamn tracking anklet.”

Billy shook his head once, indifferent. “I have a fine taste for jewelry.”

Hopper couldn’t linger to deal with him, though. He ran out of the room to get to the situation at the hospital.

Steve could only slump back in the itchy upholstery of his chair. Eventually, Billy chimed, “You look good in your hot pink scrubs.”

The nurse’s head slowly turned. “How did you know?”

He found Billy with all of his weight on the arm rest, pointed entirely at Steve until he turned his face away. He gradually reclined back in his chair. “It’s my job to know.”

Steve was so tired. He felt worry for his kids in the hospital, apologetic for the rest of the staff, and just so, so confused...

“I’m just a nurse.”

Whatever Billy took from that, he replied, “You took care of me and made me laugh. I’m easy to please.”

[greenygreenland]

Promise: Norman x Fem!Reader

-idk why but i’m having such a hard time writing pt 3 of Dream a Little Dream of Me, so here’s this to compensate for now

-i normally write for fem reader, but if you really wanted to, you could switch the words around in your head

-AGED UP characters because that’s been a trend in my work, so I’ll keep it constant

-just getting rid of drafts that have been sitting around for months

BRIEF MANGA SPOILERS, READ AT OWN RISK

Summary: Period cramps suck, and so does feeling burnt out and exhausted. Luckily, someone has just the remedy for you. This is after you all reach the Other Side. Emma is still missing.

Everything hurt--from your head to your shoulders to your knees and your toes. It was like someone flipped a switch. The other day, you were fine and dandy. There wasn’t a thing that could have swept you off your feet no matter how powerful the gust of wind. You were on top of the world.

Then your period started and you woke up with cramps that left you glued to the couch. It rained the day after, and when you dragged yourself out of bed to finish some work, you found that you just couldn’t. 

An invisible rope tethered you to the ground, and the fact that it was so heavy made your head spin. Am I good enough to complete this? Will I have enough time?

Your stomach ached and your head pounded. 

I can do this. I can do this.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

But why couldn’t you do it? The outlines for your essays and papers were long completed, and it wasn’t like you didn’t spread it evenly throughout the week. You always stuck to the schedule. To the last letter. To the absolute ‘t’. It was all you could do to remind yourself you had control over your unpredictable life. Yet now, why was it so hard to finish the job?

The cramps absolutely massacring your poor abdomen seemed to increase by ten fold, and the gentle sun shining through your window intensified into a raging fire.

The due date was five days from now. It seemed like a while away, but you knew it wasn't. That would fly by in a flash and leave you in the dust. If there was one thing that you took to heart from Mama, then it had to be the fact that time was precious. Without paying close attention to it, then you would surely go tumbling down a hill.

"(Y/n)?"

You buried your head in your hands miserably. "I can't do this. My stomach hurts so much and I can't focus", was what you wanted to say. Instead, it came out in a muffled groan of pain. “I...can’t...”

Norman waltzed over to your desk. His gentle hands settled around your slumped shoulders, encasing them in a much-needed warmth. You heaved out a long breath, sluggishly peeking out of your arms to get a good look at Norman's handsome face. He smiled lovingly and your knitted brows eased just a little.

"What do you need me to do?" he softly inquired. "I know it's that time." You huffed in thought, a weak smile twitching upon your lips. Of course Norman knew you had your period. He was always on top of his game. Always.

"So, do you need anything, love?" Norman patiently repeated. You stared into his bright eyes and melted. Calm. Caring. Sweet. Kind. That had to be one of your favourite things about him. He always had eyes that said what you wanted to hear. Whether it be, 'I love you' to 'I'm here', Norman always seemed to know what you needed.

This time was no different.

"You."

"Hm?"

"I want you."

Norman smiled and it was like the sun at Golden Hour. He took you by the hand and helped you over to your shared bed. A heavy sigh left your lips as soon as your back hit the soft bed. Norman placed a hand on your shoulder and tucked you in with him. "What's wrong?"

You shrugged.

"Hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Tired?"

You shook your head again.

Norman hummed to himself in thought. Papers lay on you desk, scattered in a mix of opened folders and half-baked diagrams. The unsharpened pencil perched at the edge of your desk centimeters from an immediate pit-fall to the waste bin. It wasn’t like you to leave everything laying about. Mama brought you up in the best way possible. She taught you that being neat and tidy were one of the most important things to do since it helped promote focus and calmness.

You weren’t one to let yourself slip like that, unless something were really bothering you. Norman’s gaze fell on your computer screen. It glowed brightly, slowly falling silent until the screen faded.

ELA ESSAY DUE MONDAY

The computer fell fast asleep, "Essay?" Norman echoed. You nodded and he pulled you close to his chest. College wasn’t easy when you couldn’t focus. Sometimes, Norman found himself dozing off. He worked just as much as you so that no one would have to borrow money from the Ratri Clan. It was a necessary sacrifice you both agreed on so no one else would have to suffer the horrors of high school and college combined.

It wasn’t that any of it was too hard, just that it was a lot of work.

After you both graduated, you’d make your own company, and from there, make a lot of money to support everyone.

"I'm guessing you're feeling burnt out.” Norman said. “You're almost done with the essay, but you haven't touched it since last night." He ran a hand through your hair. "And since your period came yesterday, you're not feeling too well. Do you want anything to drink?"

You muttered out a small no and Norman pursed his lips. He didn't know what to do because there wasn't much to do. Your stomach hurt, yes, that was bad, but he didn't know how to make you feel better when you probably weren't going to swallow pills without choking. Tea would help, but with the way you weren't moving, it would be impossible to drink.

"I wish I could help more." Norman muttered. "Maybe I should call Ray..."

You shook your head. "It's okay. Can you...keep talking?"

Norman's brows shot up. Of course! Talking would help you forget about your cramps and worries. Either that or you'd fall asleep! Perfect. Why didn’t he think of that?

"Have you read the book The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings?”

You shook your head. Back at the House, The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings were nothing more than those small books tucked away in the farthest reaches of the library. They were dusty old things, so you never bothered with them. It didn’t matter how bored you were of reading the same five books over and over again, those books were simply too dusty.

You recalled the time Ray playfully kicked at you. He told you to go away and stop complaining. Of course, you didn’t listen, and went on about how you hated (book).

“In those books, there are descriptions of this place called Hobbiton.” Norman spoke like he was reading a story. The way his voice flowed like water eased your nerves, reminded you that the present existed.

All you needed was a breather.

“Now,” Norman continued, “Hobbiton isn’t just a village or town. It’s a place where Hobbits live in holes in the ground. But these aren’t cold and dark. They’re cozy, with rounded doors and grass as green as an apple. Hobbits eat more than us, so they have different names for their meals. They’re mostly friendly people, and they’re open to tea time if you’re welcome in their homes. I heard that the movies were filmed in New Zealand. I’ll take you there on vacation, and we’ll bring Emma and Ray along too.”

You smiled against Norman’s chest. You wouldn’t like that, you’d love it. After staring at the same worksheets and papers, you needed a change of scenery. Somewhere far from here, just to get a breath of fresh air.

“Yeah.” you quietly said. “I’d love that.” Norman smiled and it was like an early birthday present. “When we find Emma, we’ll go to New Zealand and sightsee. We’ll see new places, and take lots of photos.” Norman stared at the peaceful look on your face. He pecked your cheek. “I promise.”

[tundrainafrica]

Note: Instead of posting a meta or a fic today, allow me to take a quick break from that because I think I really need to appreciate some people here and the fandom overall.  

February 7, 2021. 

Today, I turned 24 and my boyfriend surprised me with a gift I think I’ll be taking to heart for a very long time. 

The story behind the gift was as precious (or even more precious) as the gift itself and I thought I’d share it since it turned out some content creators were involved in this gift and I very much want to express how much this gift has defined this day for me and will place my 24th birthday as one of those birthdays I don’t think I’ll ever forget. 

Apparently, I had casually dropped both my tumblr and my ao3 account during one of our conversations and somewhere around November he had started looking through my bookmarks, my posts on tumblr and some of my interactions with people in the fandom.

I should have seen it coming. It had started with my boyfriend suddenly asking about my hyperfixation with Levihan.

Sav? Shipping? Sav? Binge reading ships and meta posts? Sav? Gushing about a fictional ship?

And I remember gushing about this with my seemingly uninterested boyfriend a long night after explaining what was oddly the most out of character thing for someone like me. 

I was sharing with him my metas and hcs and maybe, I was dropping a few of my favorite quotes along the way and it turned out he was interested. Suddenly he was asking me about my favorite fics, my favorite scenes. Suddenly, he was rereading my favorite fics with me and a few times, he was quoting those same scenes. I did find out he was looking through my blog when I got a random message from a really sketchy tumblr telling me to open my facebook. 

I suspected a few times that he could be planning something. December passed with nothing and eventually he stopped asking so I clocked that as a fevered dream or unnecessary assuming on my end and didn’t think too much of it after. 

It turned out my boyfriend had messaged my favorite authors about their fics and he commissioned one of my favorite artists (if not my favorite) to draw a few photos and bound them into a Levihan Anthology 

And it feels fucking amazing to receive something like this. To get Levihan which helped me through the worst of 2020, bound forever as a book I can just open up and read anytime. And I guess tearing up at receiving such a gift had me thinking of a lot of things at once (which were always at the back of mind) but I thought of sharing now. 

The past year wasn’t easy. Actually. don’t think it’s an understatement to say this past year was dog shit. With the covid pandemic and all plans after that cancelled, I’m sure we can all agree we had our ups and downs. 

I had a lot of my own plans completely thrown out the window for numerous reasons. I had plans of going to law school part time while building a career. And, I got a job right after college to make these plans come true. In September the law school I got accepted to (after working so damn hard the past year to get accepted) denied my appeal for night classes. I decided to drop my enrollment to focus on my career. A week later, my job laid me off. 

And for once in my life, I wasn’t going anywhere. And I lived in a house where everyone was always doing something and as soon as I lost my job I was pressured to find another one. But as we all know, searching for a job during this pandemic isn’t easy. I was still reeling after having dropped my enrollment just to focus on my job only to lose that job the week after with no prior notice. Everyone around me was busy doing their own thing. I had no one to talk to and for a while, I was falling into this pit of depression. 

My days consisted of me hiding under the covers of my bed in between the few interviews I would take day to day. Around that time, I decided to binge watch Attack on Titan as well 

I was never one to get hyper fixated in ships. In fact, this was the first ship since Royai and Victuuri which I have been so passionate. And this is a whole new level of passion. I think this is the first time I’ve ever written so much in this small amount of time. It was slow going. Just like Levi and Hange’s relationship, my fixation with this ship was a slowburn. 

Those days alone, I was reading fanfiction by the bundle, I was scrolling through the Levihan tag like a simp, leaving kudos in ao3 on a throwaway account and just scrolling through random people’s tumblr accounts. 

What happened during the one month? And when I was alone, sad, lonely and stagnant with no one to talk to, when everyone around me was living their own lives, all I had alone in the bedroom was Levi and Hange’s stories to keep me company between interviews. 

And the meta analyses and headcanons I had about their relationship were teaching me things. They were teaching me that life was never about how quickly you progress or how far you go. Maybe the real winners in life are the ones who can build good relationships, build relationships so mutually satisfying they keep each other growing and in those few moments reading, headcanoning ships, I did realize, maybe even as stagnant as I was at that moment, my life wasn’t dogshit. 

No one’s life is dogshit for a few small bumps along the way. Sometimes it just is part of the process of growing, learning to get past the worse, learning to manage relationships. And maybe it’s these relationships which make life worth living. Maybe it’s these struggles depicted in these stories and the bounce back. Maybe it’s the love, the life, the emotions so carefully described and depicted in every single story which makes life, life. 

With every single fic I read and every single fan art I scrolled through. Levihan was teaching my things about love, loss and life. 

Sometimes, these fandoms are the things which can catch people before they fall too low into something. These works and stories authors and artists shared so generously were what pulled me out of this state and are what inspired me to explore this relationship for all the potential its worth and maybe share my own stories and headcanons which people may learn a thing or two from or maybe just find some comfort and hope in.  

And these inspirations eventually evolved to writing. Writing 10,000 words in a day in between three interviews? I never was a writer but somehow, I found myself spending hours exploring the themes of love, loss and life with our favorite pairing 

I didn’t start writing out of nowhere. I didn’t start making metas out of nowhere. I needed the right inspiration, the right content to get me into this point where I could continue writing, reading, meta-ing, appreciating, headcanoning and everything in between.

And I just wanted to express my gratefulness to every single person in the fandom who had made it possible for me to pull out of that blackhole. Fandoms are underrated and I believe there are so many lessons which can be learned from the right content and from the right people. 

To the people who so willingly went along with my boyfriend’s little project: 

@faerielleart​ I saved A LOT of your art and they’re sitting in my google photos under a folder called Levihan and maybe I did share a few of your photos (the cheeks one and the beast titan one and the les miserables) ones to my boyfriend unsolicited just to show him how beautiful Levihan can be. Thank you so much for these beautiful drawings.

@lizaloveslevihan​ You were one of the first people I talked with in this fandom and dreams really was one of those stories that fucked me up a little bit, had me make a few misses on the commute on the way home one day but maybe it did have me explore the angst genre a little more, maybe it did have me explore Levi’s character a little more. 

@ariadneamare​ YELLOW. OH GOD. You know those letters? The ones which Hange left Levi at the end of the story? I ended up copying and pasting them and sending them to my boyfriend right after reading and I remember talking to him about this. We might be facing that same type of story in the future and I guess that ended up becoming a lot of foundation of our discussion and I guess, it’s just proof that there is so much to learn from fanfiction. There’s just so much to explore and fanfiction as a genre just does not get the credit it deserves.

@fanmoose12​​ I was exploring your works even before I started this tumblr up again. Maybe it was even your works which got me building my own headcanons from Levihan and writing from there. And I think I did leave a few anonymous messages telling you how I started exploring other genres because of your fics. Your works got my out of my dark place, it got me exploring a lot of other genres and for that I’m eternally grateful.

And somehow, my boyfriend picked that all up from late night discussions and one-on-one metas. Surprisingly, he wasn’t just playing along to humor his girlfriend. He was exploring the themes of love, life, loss and Levihan right along with me. (And got spoiled about Hange’s death along the way… Oops.) 

And I am eternally grateful for that and I made sure to shower him with a lot of kisses after he kept me in the loop with what has been going on these past few months with his sudden interest in Levihan.

And this huge thank you goes out to all content creators (authors, artists, gif creators, shitposters alike). Sometimes you never know who’s thinking about your work, who’s shoehorning your works and quoting them to their best friends. Sometimes, you never will find out but your work had pulled someone out of a blackhole which they’ve been stuck in and sometimes you never know that your work has been that seemingly small thing that had taught them a lesson in love, life or relationships. Sometimes, that one work turned out to be an inspiration which got them writing and sharing their own stories or making their own drawings

And I guess, the point is, keep writing. Keep drawing. Keep sharing pouring your love, passion and emotions into works of art because you never really know whose heart you touched or whose life you changed.

I have a job now. I decided to push law school a few years back and maybe take the time to work on myself now and maybe spend the next months or maybe years writing metas and fanfictions. I was pulled out of my hole. I was inspired. I have my own stories to tell and I don’t think I would have been here if I hadn’t spent the last few months reading fic after fic, meta after meta, appreciating art after art, 

So anyway, I just wanted to share some pics of my favortie fics, immortalized in one anthology, all organized by my boyfriend. And I think he made some great decisions with these.

(Bookbinding credits to @mayerwien)

[fenristheorem]

Lance finding out that Gardienne killed herself? After a while of her being in the HQ again, he has fallen in love with her. She just couldn't bear those seven years, having lost that many people and being here just to save this world by suffering.

He wanted to tell her he loved her, he knocked her door, he worried bc no one answered, and he finds her hanged up.

I know this is really specific, it's just kind of my OC ending😅😅 anyway, I'd understand if you weren't comfortable with this.

So I’m going to talk about the boundaries of what I write for a moment, starting by saying that I will write this BUT I won’t write detailed suicide scenes due to the sensitive nature of it.

This ask isn’t asking for a detailed scene, it’s asking for the effects the decision has on Lance, and because it’s asking for the long-term effects and not a scenario I’m just fine with writing this. 

Thank you for asking this, Anon, genuinely. Being this specific was probably what gave me the push to write this in the end because I know you were looking for the reaction and not the actual scene. This is a good example of a post that walks along the lines of what I will and won’t write so anyone requesting future asks with a similar subject gets a better idea of what to ask.

Also, I apologize for how long this took to write. This ask was, unfortunately, the one that spent the most time eaten in my drafts folder so I couldn’t work on it until about a week ago. Fortunately that gave me a lot of time to think over how to best write this, so I think this’ll be appropriately written considering the subject.

*Warning / Note: This post contains heavy depressive themes and suicidal mentions, as evident by the ask and what I wrote above. I’m aware that this is a very sensitive subject and I intend to treat it with appropriate seriousness. This is not a happy post, please only read this if you know this won’t lead you down a dark path. To me, writing is another form of art, meant to express and draw out emotions from the audience, so I won’t subside the intensity of my writing even with this being a sensitive subject. I don’t intend to drive anyone to harm themselves, but I do intend to write with the intensity that I always do because this is my artform; so please prepare for heavy themes or don’t read if you’re not comfortable with this. On a side note: I care about everyone, I really do, so please take care of yourselves. If you’re feeling depressive or suicidal, talk to someone, please. There is always someone who cares about you.

Technically Guardienne's death may have a major adverse effect on Eldarya due to her link with the crystal, but for the sake of this ask I'll ignore any possible effects like that.

~Under the cut~

Lance’s reaction to Guardienne’s suicide:

Lance had seen a lot of terrible things in life and had done many terrible things in his life, but this reached a new type of fucked up for him. Not because it's truly disturbing - although it is deeply disturbing - but because it fucked him up even more in a way that he neither thought could be possible nor that he could bear.

He’s convinced that he’s cursed; everything that’s happened to him has been his fault. He started the war within Eldarya, destroyed so many faeries’ lives, killed his own brother, and now the woman he loved is dead because of him as well. Sure, he wasn’t the one to tie the rope around her neck, but there are signs for these sorts of things. Was he truly that blind that he couldn’t see that she was in pain? Did he ever truly love her if he couldn’t see the pain? Would she have done anything differently if he wasn’t there to constantly remind her of everything that was lost?

Lance believes he deserves this. He’s caused so much pain and agony for everyone, it only makes sense that he should be the one in pain now. Lance won’t try to fight the agony he’s in, he’ll let himself drown in it for nights on end to wake up - or not even sleep to begin with - feeling exhausted, reckless, irritated and - overall - worthless. He’s sure to emerge from his room in the morning without the slightest hint that he’s been sobbing quietly with the feeling of a dagger twisting itself over and over within his chest all night, and he’ll refuse to answer any questions about if he’s alright after the recent events. He was the one to find her after all; it would make sense that he was hit the hardest...

In the daytime he’ll be rough and withholding, keeping the Obsidian guard in a tight hold to reflect how he needs to hold himself tightly to keep from falling apart. It’s one thing for him feel and express emotions, but this feeling is an entirely different thing; this is something that should not be released into Eldarya. He realizes it and knows that this feeling - something that he recognizes all too well from his past - threatens to destroy everything that he worked so hard to gain in the past seven years.

Mathieu will notice Lance’s change in temperament immediately, and being the kind man he is he’ll want to be there for the dragon, but Lance won’t be looking for comfort; he’ll be looking for something that will change the past and take back everything that happened. But that’s impossible - he knows that - and so he’ll be stuck in a state of limbo, deemed to mourn for his unknown, unrealized love until... something happens to change him.

Ice cold fear will wash over him some days as he recognizes the familiar feeling that haunted him in the past, and while he’ll be aching to reach out to lean on someone for support - afraid of this feeling overwhelming him again - he’ll feel that he can’t lean on anyone. He doesn’t deserve that support at this point after all he’s done, and there’s so many others who are busy grieving; the guard needs him to be strong now. However, on occasion - when he has a clear mind - he’ll grieve gently with someone who’s somewhat close to him, sharing kind memories of Guardienne and gently advising them to spend time around friends if his co-worker feels it’s needed. He’ll never completely break in front of anyone though, he can’t bring himself to. 

However, Lance falls apart immediately when he’s alone, sometimes even lingering in the conference room for a few minutes after a meeting to allow himself the private time alone to recollect himself. Grief will randomly hit him throughout the day, constricting his throat, burning his chest, and glassing over his eyes - and every time he’ll excuse himself from his company to isolate himself until he regains control again. This, of course, is taken into notice by a few others around the guard, and slowly there’ll be people who realize that Lance is not fine.

This becomes a further issue over time as his grief slowly turns into anger and disgust, and this is when that familiar, ominous feeling from his past really rears it’s ugly face. He should have seen something. Was he really that terrible to her that she felt she couldn’t trust him? Was everyone really that blind to not see her hurting?

Lance finds that he begins to choose to isolate himself, mentally and physically. He’ll leave the guards members alone that have stated they need time off, but he won’t be very forgiving with those who have chosen to continue their work but seem to be slacking. His mentality is that if you can’t handle continuing on, then don’t offer your service as it’ll become a hindrance, and this quickly becomes a major issue.

Huang Hua - knowing how important Guardienne was to Eldarya, and the guard especially - has let it be known that if anyone needs a break from their responsibilities, then it’ll be allowed, but she will stress that those who feel they can continue to function please try to do so, and be lenient and take on a few responsibilities that aren’t usually asked of them if they feel they can. She can read other’s auras and sense intentions and emotions of sorts, so she can generally get a good read on how someone is doing, but she can’t consistently do that with everyone, so while she’ll use this ability when necessary to enforce that someone take a break so they don’t fall apart, not every unstable case is known to her. This is the main reason why she slightly overlooks Lance for a while. When he first found Guardienne, he panicked immediately, rushing her to Ewelein and not even truly believing her death until many days after the event. Huang Hua - having sensed his shock and panic blocking out any other emotions - let it go for a few days; everyone goes through their own grieving process, some immediately and some not until many years afterwards. There was nothing that anyone could do for him until Guardienne’s death hit him fully. However, she also knew from her abilities that Lance was in love with her, or at very least had a deep liking for Guardienne, so the instant a few members of the guard come to her expressing serious concerns regarding Lance’s recent aggression and distance, Huang Hua knows immediately that it needs to be dealt with. This grief was an unknown factor in Lance’s new life - but his past with this type of grief shows clearly that this can really fuck him up - so it needed to be discussed, otherwise he risks spiraling back into the same place he was seven years ago.

She’ll approach him when he’s alone, or if they’re in a relatively public space she’ll take him somewhere private, sensing all the while the breathtakingly painful feeling of agony, anger and distress that’s clouding his mentality. It was just the same as when he was Ashkore, how did he not yet break? He’ll refuse to follow her if he knows she wants to talk about his emotions - ironic since he’s always been open to sharing his perspective and thoughts - so she’ll just tell him that she needs to talk to him in private regarding a few anonymous tips from some guards members if he happens to ask why.

Being alone with an unstable, emotionally distraught dragon with a history of violence while under heavy states of grief does unsettle her a bit, but she knows the outcome of this will be much worse if he truly feels isolated. He’s not going to reach out for help by himself - he doesn’t know how to, nor does he probably want to - so she needs to be the one to reach out to him and help him stabilize himself before another situation like Valkyon’s death occurrs.

She’ll consider first talking alone with him in his room - where he’d likely feel most comfortable - but considering he’d likely be defensive, that could then translate into aggression in his own territory, and that may lead her to being forced out of his room for her own safety. Lance has certainly changed in temperament, but heavy grieving emotions can blind someone, so there’s really no promising that nothing... destructive may happen, no matter how much he’s changed in patience.

She then considers talking with him in the conference room, but there isn’t a whole lot of privacy there. The conference room is more for business, rather than personal, private, emotional conversations. The last thing Lance needed in this moment was for his emotions to be treated even slightly like a business confrontation and not as an important part of his being. Frankly, even on a day where he’s feeling just fine he would never accept anyone’s emotions to be treated like a business issue, so the last thing she wanted was to imply that by bringing him into a room that could do just that.

Huang Hua then thinks over the idea of talking to him in her room; it would likely be safer, after all. He probably won’t become territorial or aggressive as it’s not his territory, and it’ll be a gentle reminder that she’s happy to welcome him into her personal life to help comfort him (therefore defeating the concern that it could seem like a business confrontation), but since it’s her territory he might emotionally shut himself down. It can be uncomfortable to fall apart in someone else’s room, especially knowing they’re higher ranking and could be interrupted at any moment to deal with something else...

Then she wonders if she should bring him outside of the guard to speak with him - somewhere that’s private and on neutral ground. That way they’d both be in strange territory and may not be interrupted, and if they are they’d receive prior warning by noticing that someone was walking their way.

Of course, Huang Hua then realizes that - no matter how much she’d like to think that she understands what would make Lance most comfortable - she truly doesn’t know what would help him best, but she can be there to provide support at very least, regardless of where they are. At the end of the day, Lance would probably know where he’d feel most comfortable, so when she approaches him to talk, saying that it’s an important but private conversation, she’ll ask him where he would rather talk. He’ll be slightly hostile, especially when he picks up on the fact that she’s going out of her way to word things carefully and prioritize his comfort, but he’ll decide to talk somewhere private outside the guard, where no one is around.

And that’s how Huang Hua finds herself in the middle of the open plains, far away from the guard to talk to a dragon who might as well be stabbing himself with his own dagger with how he’s been allowing himself to feel as of late. She’ll start off gently, telling him the recent concerns of a few anonymous guard’s members and Lance will stand a few feet away and listen coldly with a blank expression until she suggests that he take a few days off. He’ll debate things with her then, and it’ll escalate slowly until Lance is clearly distressed but still unmoving in his decision to remain active, and Huang Hua will know then that she can’t be gentle anymore...

“Lance, take a few days off, for your sake.”

“No.” His tone is harsh and cold as he snaps at her. “The guard needs me, there’s so much I need to do - so much I need to repay-” He didn’t mean to let that last statement slip - after all, his actions certainly couldn’t be made up for, right? - but emotions can be a powerful thing, can’t they?

“You won’t be able to do any of that if you’re destroying everything you’ve helped rebuild in the process.” Lance is pacing, keeping his eyes trained to the ground. Huang Hua - despite her anxiousness at the dragon being so stubborn on decisions made under heavy negative emotions - tries to keep a comforting, open atmosphere to avoid furthering any issues. “You know the pain you’ve cast upon on others, you’ve felt that same sort of pain now and you need to take time to be able to recover from that.”

“I can’t take time, it’s not something I can just accept! Everyone I’ve hurt before never had time to accept the situation before I made it worse, but they still pushed forward! There’s no reason for me to have it any easier!”

“And where would we be if we treated you the same way you used to treat the world? Would we be any better than how you used to be?”

Lance stops pacing but his eyes remain on the ground, his throat constricting as his thoughts run rampant. Would they be the same as how he used to be if they allowed him to keep running himself this way? He’s done terrible things, but he’s spent many years trying to keep that from happening again. Certainly he’s an asset to the guard now, so would it be cruel of them to ignore his distress? Or would it be justified payback for everything he’s done?

“Lance, you’ve done wonderful things the past seven years, and we want you to continue that and I know you want to continue that as well. Take some time off so you can do that without destroying yourself or your environment. Don’t ignore your pain like it’s nothing - it’s not nothing, and you have the resources to deal with it in a better way now. Use those resources, Lance, it’ll help you work your way through this.” Huang Hua’s tone is gentle and soft as she pleads with him, hoping that her blunt words will reach his common sense.

He tries to argue this, stuttering the beginning of sentences to try and disprove her point, grasping for any reason as to why his pain is invalid. However, Lance finds that there’s no sound argument against Huang Hua’s words, and constricting panic, horror, and then heavy tides of grief will hit him as he realizes that he is, in fact, dragging himself into his own downfall. He is his own worst enemy, once again.

In any manner, this is all his fault - his past actions, Guardienne’s distress of what’s changed that lead to her death, his emotional isolation, and disruption of the guard is all because he doesn’t know how to deal with himself and his abyss of emotions. How did this happen to him? He was never the type of person to deny and hide away his emotions, so how is it he ended up caging himself like this when under personal grief? Is it because the situation is so personal to him that he has a hard time allowing himself to seek comfort in others who likely couldn’t understand?

Lance will fall apart at this, closing his eyes and turning towards the ground to keep himself together, but falling apart all the same as grief overwhelms him one final time in a push that throws him over the edge. He’ll clench his fist and bow his head, bringing it over his mouth as he desperately tries to steady his breathing, to no avail as tears find their way from his eyes and his chest heaves in quieted sobs. 

Huang Hua will lurch forward to comfort him, but stops as Lance whirls around to step back and snap at her - he didn’t want comfort, he wanted her back!

“Where were you for her!? Why didn’t anyone else see her pain!?” His eyes are tragedy and desperation underneath the weakened cold anger of ice blue, a faint few tears streaking down his face as his voice - thunderous and howling - cracks and breaks alongside his crumbling rage. If he couldn’t have fixed this, then someone else could have - why didn’t anyone fix this!?

“You know it’s not morally correct to monitor everyone’s private emotions all the time. What kind of leader would I be if I didn’t allow my people their privacy?” Huang Hua stills and clasps her hands together at her waist, understanding Lance’s outward anger. However, she realized his statement signaled something else as well; Lance could no longer fight why he should allow himself to grieve, so he was desperately clinging onto some semblance of needing to be distant by turning it to be someone’s fault - someone that he could hate.  “You are right in a way; of the many people who knew her, someone might have been able to catch how torn up she felt, but people who wish to hide their pain, or spend so long hiding their pain that it becomes a part of who they are, learn how to hide their pain in ways too complex for others to realize. And, Lance, if she didn’t want anyone to know about her grief, there wouldn’t have been much that I could have done anyways.”

“You could have helped her!” The dragon’s voice was weakening as he spoke, distant anger being replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness as he realized the truth in Huang Hua’s words.

“Only if she was ready for that help. You can’t force someone to accept help, you can only wait for them to allow themselves to be helped.”

“She wouldn’t want me to find relief during this time...” He looked away toward the ground and hung his head, blinking rapidly as he began to heave for breath. There must be a reason why he shouldn’t be allowed to feel this way .

“Do you think she would have wanted everything good you did - whether she knows what you did or not - to be destroyed because of your grief for her?” Lance’s eyes squinted closed and he tilted his head a bit further away from the phoenix. It seemed as though every reminder of everything good he’s done continues to leave him with a hollow chest. “I think if she witnessed firsthand everything you’ve done the past seven years she would have thought very differently about you now than what she did when first having woken up from the crystal.”

Lance turns to face his back towards her, resting a palm on his forehead before brushing his fingers back through his hair as a tremble rolls through him. He could feel pressure rising from his throat as he bared his teeth in an agonized snarl before parting his mouth to silently gasp for air. His head tilted back to look at the sky, only for a few tears to fall from his eyes when he releases a shaky breath.

“Lance, your situation with her was very unique - no one else could begin to understand exactly what you’re feeling from your history with her. Take some time so you can understand it - and fix, or do, or feel whatever you need to - so you can carry forward knowing yourself better.”

He wanted to fight her statement, but his moral compass argued with his resistance on this as well. If anything, of whatever terrible things came as a result of her death, there should be some good sought from it as well. What’s the point of accepting a tragedy if not to learn something from it as well, even if it’s something quiet that no one else knows you learned?

For the first time in a long while - if not ever - Lance allows himself to break and be comforted. He lets himself embrace the burning, stinging pain that rises in his chest as he turns his head back to the ground and collapses on his knees. Huang Hua immediately reacts and is by his side in moments, on her knees and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder as she leans against him slightly. Sobs escape his throat as his body tenses and curls forward slightly, bracing a hand on the ground to steady himself as tremulous waves of emotions - any and all emotions that could possibly be named - wash over him and leave him gasping for air.

“I miss her, too.” Huang Hua’s voice shakes now as she leans further against the dragon, bringing her arms as far around him as she can while her head rests against his shoulder, away from the spines on his pauldrons. Lance brings his other hand up and tightly grasps the forearm reaching across his chest.

Huang Hua had spent so much time trying to help others through this that she had completely forgotten to make sure she was alright as well, and seeing Lance - the man she least expected to be torn apart by this situation - completely break and fall apart before her eyes reminded her of the true depth of their loss. They didn’t just lose Eldarya’s savior, they had lost a friend, a great warrior, one of the last angels, someone who was pure at heart and wasn’t afraid to face the darkness of life without so much as a blink of hesitation. They had lost someone who gave everything for the world, and suffered because of it.

Minutes merged until they were unsure of how long they spent in the fields, but in time both of them calmed down. Lance - now able to think clearer on the subject - began to reflect on the situation.

“This wasn’t her fault... the blame is on all of us, for not having seen anything... but she must have known that someone would have been there for her if they knew how much she was hurting...” He murmured this quietly, waves of shame washing over him again as he realized he was perhaps pinning some of the blame on Guardienne. Was there really anyone to blame here? She must have known that someone would have been there for her if she sought help, but it’s not right for others to pry into the personal life of another if the intrusion is unwelcomed, and who was to say she wanted help in the first place? Had she given up? Would anyone have been able to stop her to begin with? Who was to blame, if there was anyone?

“There’s nothing we can do now except honor her and move forward.” Huang Hua whispered back with a shaky voice and Lance faintly nodded his head. There were many things that worked together to lead to this happening, and in between there also were moments where something could have helped deter it, both by her doing and by others. At the root core, everyone and anyone could have helped stop this in some way, even if it was by giving her a small passing smile that could have helped remind her that there is good and hope in the world, but there’s also no guarantee that anyone could have stopped it. Regardless, this is how things happened. They can’t change the past, but they can move forward with her in mind and learn from this.

Lance - despite his heavy grief and complex emotions on everything - begins to soften himself to the situation. He’s not the only one grieving. His situation may have been the most complicated, but he’s still in the same boat as everyone else. He doesn’t feel the need to sob alongside the others anymore, but he does find that whenever the group he’s in begins to fall apart into wailing, he’ll bow his head and won’t hide the obvious pain that he’s in at the reminder of his lost love. His feelings for Guardienne will be kept quiet, and he won’t openly say how he felt about her - it could still be seen as wrong in the opinion of some people for him to have fallen in love with the same woman he hurt so much, especially knowing her pain is what led to her death - but he won’t deny the truth of his feelings to those who caught on somehow. Lance will find that he’ll slowly begin to mend after this death, many months after of course, but it’ll happen, and in some ways this will help him move past his brother’s death as well. After all, in the end both Guardienne and Valkyon came to accept their final moments in life before allowing Lance’s past actions to bring about their end, and although one chose to die to help mend him and the other chose to die to help relieve herself, the root issue of the situation that led to their death was still very similar. He’ll have a hard time allowing himself to move past the fact that his actions played a major part in both deaths, but he realizes in time that that’s what happens when someone has a violent past. It’ll haunt for many years, and the effects of it can never be reversed, but in the end this only inspires him to work harder to provide a better world. Maybe he can’t erase what he did, but he can make sure it doesn’t happen again and work to provide Eldarya with as much good as he can provide now.

Without a doubt Guardienne’s death hits him hard, but he’ll be sure to come back twice as strong from this.

I hope you like this, Anon! I feel Guardienne’s suicide would definitely hit Lance hard and remind him subtly of Valkyon’s death, but I don’t see Lance being held down by this for too long. He’d heavily grieve for her for a good while before he eventually finds himself standing on two feet again and powering his way through life, if not for his own sake then for the sake of others, both alive and dead. 

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[kyber-crystal]

➳ catch me || s.r

summary: in which you struggle to tell the difference between liking him as a friend or something more. until one fateful moment forces you to decide where you ultimately stand.

words: ~3.9k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, overused friends to lovers, slight enemies to lovers LOL

a/n: i suffered through this WIP for like, 3 mf MONTHS before i was finally able to finish it off. i feel so relieved. but i will warn you, it’s terrible

"Rogers."

"Y/N."

You exchanged curt nods with him as you went to grab yourself some water after attending a meeting with Fury. Ever since Sharon started showing up more often, you began to distance yourself from him because you know that lingering by will only make you feel worse.He doesn't know why you're acting so cold all of a sudden, but decides not to question it as it won't help the situation in any way whatsoever.

He was quick to break the awkward silence that had fallen. "Where are you being sent off?"

"We," you replied coldly. "Northern Europe. Got word of an arms trade happening tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Footsteps were suddenly heard from down the hall and without warning, he tugged you forward by the wrist and pressed his lips to yours.

You didn't protest because you're still too shocked to fully register what's going on and 2) you actually liked the way he made you feel. 

Though you really weren't supposed to be.

"What was that for?" you breathed out as you both pulled away, breathless.

"Sharon," he replied simply, looking around for a moment. "She's been bothering me for the past few weeks and I had to do something."

"You just noticed?" you said, sarcasm lacing your tone as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see the blonde woman walking away. "She's been all over you since her recruitment."

His brows furrow together in confusion as he notices the darkened look in your eyes, but doesn't say anything. You toss him the black manila folder containing information on your mission for him to read, sitting down at the kitchen counter together.

"Infamous dealer carrying nuclear weapons overseas. Headquartered somewhere in the Arctic Circle, I think," you explained as he pulled out the wanted man's file. "Can be taken either dead or alive. We have to stop them from going through with the attack."

"When are we leaving?"

"Wheels up at 8:30 p.m. Should take about 6 hours...we're being flown in via helicarrier."

Great.

You just realized you'd be stuck in a plane alone together for 6 hours straight, when the very thing you were trying to do was avoid him.

You're mostly silent as you board the jet, securing your bags and weapons before taking your seat. Fatigue is tugging at your body and your eyelids grow heavy, although it isn't even that late. Without thinking about what you were doing, you rest your head against Steve's shoulder and close your eyes. He wraps an arm around your waist in response.

Before you knew it, the aircraft was hovering over the drop zone. The two of you got up and went towards the back, fastening parachutes to your backs as the gates dropped open.

"Stay safe out there," you blurted out as you glanced down at the base below you, then over at Steve. "Circle the perimeter and meet me inside. Don't die or I'll kill you."

"Yes ma'am."

Inhaling sharply, you gripped the straps of your jacket and squeezed your eyes shut, the dry wind whipping your hair in your face as you descended downwards.

With his icy blue eyes still imprinted in the back of your mind.

...

It was quite ironic seeing that you, an Avenger and a former SHIELD pilot that flew everywhere all the time, had a crippling fear of heights. The mere idea of being jumping out of planes and having to go on missions involving multi-story buildings shook you to your core, and it always took you at least a week to recover once you got back.

"Steve!" Your voice heightened to a shriek as you felt the plane's velocity increase suddenly. The crates next to you toppled over and you went crashing to the floor alongside them, barely managing to grip the armrest of something and pressing your back against the wall, feeling your head spin. The sticky warmth and stinging, white-hot pain in your side tells you that you were shot. You didn't need to look at the wound to know it wasn't pretty. "Where the hell are you?"

"Fifty yards away from the northeast entrance," he replied breathlessly. "I got nothing. You?"

"The weapons," you panted, "are on the plane!"

"Okay. Where are you?"

"On the damn plane! They're gonna detonate at any moment, I have to get this thing away from the city—I'm not gonna make it so I just wanted to tell you that—"

"Fuck, don't say that," he hissed. You know things were bad when Steve Rogers, the man that coined the 'Language' line, swore. "Just—hang tight, I'm coming for you."

"No. Just forget it," you shouted over the noise, grunting in pain as your head hit the side of a storage box, muttering a string of curses under your breath. "I can't afford for you to risk your own life for me. It's okay. Just leave me behind."

"No, I'm not leaving you!" he yelled back. "I'm not going back home without you."

"Steve," your voice was thick with tears, throat feeling tight as you swallowed back the sob that was threatening to erupt from your lips. You wipe a tear that slips down your cheek and cleared your throat. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," he says hoarsely, "I lost you once, and I'm not losing you again."

"There's no point, Steve. I'm going to die. This thing's on autopilot going God knows where at top speed and if there's any chance of stopping this thing, I gotta crash it. If you come and get me you're gonna die, too. You know Fury's not gonna like having to send out an extraction team to drag both our corpses back to headquarters."

"Y/N, don't-" His voice breaks and you swear your heart shatters into a million pieces. "Please, don't- don't say that. I'm gonna come and get you. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

That was the last straw for you; and you lost it at those last words. Tears sting a steaming hot trail down your cheeks as you hastily try to wipe them away with your bruised and bloodied knuckles. "No, we're not. I don't think you understand. I'm over 30,000 feet in the air with no protection whatsoever. They're gonna shoot you down before you even have the chance to get to me."

You always told yourself you'd be willing to put your life on the line to save someone else's; to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. But now that death was looming threateningly close to you and staring you down, for the first time in a long time, you didn't know if you even wanted to leave and you were scared. Scared of what was to come if you really were to meet your end. Scared of what was to come at the end of the tunnel, what would happen when you were swallowed whole by death's bottomless, dark pit. You didn't expect your fate to approach so quickly, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Being a superhero meant that making sacrifices were a must-do. You always knew you would need to give things up in order to successfully do your job. That one day, your time to die would come but you didn't know it would happen like this; so unexpectedly.

Now you realize people were right as they told you in your final moments, you'd see your entire life flash before your eyes. You blink and you're transported back to when you first joined the Initiative, skeptical of the six unfamiliar faces before you. But it only takes a matter of three minutes before Thor cracks a joke that has you all howling in laughter, and another one for Natasha to approach you and start a conversation. To you, her, and Steve on the run as fugitives of SHIELD as you conducted the search for The Winter Soldier. The heartbreaking decision of having to choose between your mentor and best friend in Berlin--which you realized, happened barely over a year ago. So many memories had been created in such a short amount of time and you didn't ever want to let any of them go. You couldn't bring yourself to.

You stumbled over, sliding into the pilot's seat and buckling up. Your grip around the controls were so tight that the barely healing cuts around your knuckles reopened and began bleeding again.

You let out a shuddering sigh, tapping several buttons overhead before reaching down to turn on your comm again. "Steve? Are you there?"

"Darling..." The pure agony in his voice only makes you feel worse. You've never heard the great Captain America in such a soft-spoken tone before, so you could only assume it took him a lot to get him into this state. "Yeah. I'm here."

"So..." you readjusted your grip and let your shoulders fall back, "...you remember that one time we took the subway to see Hamilton last weekend?'

"Last weekend? It was only last weekend?" Steve tried his best to keep it together, but his wavering tone gave it all away. "Feels like forever since we got a break."

"I know," you let out a broken laugh, "and then you wouldn't stop talking about it the entire way back? It got so bad to the point Tony had to forcefully shut off all the speaker systems around the compound because he woke up at 3 am to see you sitting in the kitchen, playing the soundtrack at full volume."

"But when he saw you dancing around in the kitchen while making lunch the next day, he couldn't keep doing that for any longer. You have an amazing voice."

"I don't know..." you sniffed, forcing a smile, "you're the one who's pretty good at singing and playing the piano. I think you got all the musical talent-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, "stop. Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"You're talking as if you're gonna die."

The gravity of the whole situation comes crashing down on you again. "...Because I am."

"No, you're not. I'm not letting that happen."

"I don't think you have a say in things this time, Rogers," your voice cracked. You shook your head. "I'm done for. God, I really hoped this wasn't how I'd meet my end. I hate heights. I hate the ice, I'm scared shitless of dying, I can't- I can't do this. But I have to. If I don't, millions of people will die and I can't have that on my conscience."

You sucked in a breath as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see you're falling, and falling fast. In a matter of minutes you'll be plunging through the surface of the ice and into the depths of the icy-cold water. There's no turning back now.

"Geez," you spoke up again, "this is like some repeat of '45. Is this how it felt? Knowing you were gonna die, but doing it anyway because you knew you had to do it?"

"That's not the same. It was a matter of chance that I made it at all. Chances are slim to none that you'll end up frozen in a block of ice for 66 years."

"See, it's hopeless," you sighed. "Go back. You need to go...or you're gonna end up filled with bullets."

"I'm not going back," he repeated. "Not without you."

"If you're gonna think of a plan, you better think fast-"

"Jump."

"What did you just say? Are you out of your damn mind?"

"I said, jump. There's no other choice. Look for an emergency exit...there should be one above you. Do you see it?" His voice was calm, gentle, as if he was speaking to a child, and it soothed you a bit. You muttered a quick 'yes'. "Alright. Pry that open, get out of there. I'm coming with the Quinjet right now, so hang tight."

As if he could sense your fear, he softened his tone a bit more, "Hey. It's okay. I'm coming for you. You'll be alright."

"It's like we're Romeo and Juliet," you managed to choke out in between a laugh and sob,  "except only one of us dies."

"Y/N, you're not dying." He couldn't mask the obvious pain in his voice. "Honey, I promise you're not gonna die. You're gonna be alright."

"Steve-" You let out an earsplitting shriek and scrambled to get a stronger grip as blaring alarms sounded throughout the aircraft. The impact of the hits nearly made you topple off and you clung to the side of the jet for dear life, praying to God you weren't going to fall off and crack your head open on an iceberg. "I got hit. They're tailing after me, you can't, I'm actually gonna fall-"

"Okay, okay, I'm here. Do you see me?" You turned your head to the side ever so slightly to see the Quinjet hovering below, but your heart dropped when all you could see were snow flurries blowing around - and zero sign of the super-soldier.

"No-"

"Just jump. I see you. I'm literally right below you, so jump, okay?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you trust me?" he yelled out, his voice carrying over on the frigid winds. "Y/N. Do you trust me?"

"But-"

"I've never let you down before and I sure as hell won't now. Trust me, Y/N, come on."

You pressed your lips together. You knew he was right. Either you made the jump now, or get filled with a dozen bullets and dying a brutal and gory death.

You finally bring yourself to look down again and there he is, a little closer this time. His gaze finds yours and suddenly, you're drowning. You might've been hundreds of feet apart but no distance would be able to extinguish his piercing gaze. His eyes were the ocean and you were lost at sea, lost in those endless pools of blue and losing yourself in him—the one guy who stuck by your side for so long and thought as nothing more than a best friend, a teammate until now. The one guy who took your breath away with his million-dollar smile every time you made eye contact.

In the one guy who you thought was just a friend, until you realized you were hopelessly in love with him - the Steve Rogers.

And now you weren't sure if you'd come out of this alive to finally tell him so.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let go. The wind whipping at your hair and face feels like a thousand tiny needles being jabbed into your skin and you swear if you kept your mouth open you would've puked - if you'd opened your eyes you knew you'd die from fear first before anything else.

But all those thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you're stopped by a pair of strong, warm arms you'd sought solace in countless times before.

"Y/N, thank God you're alright, oh my god," Steve let out a shuddering sigh as he held you close, cradling your head against his chest. "I thought I lost you. Oh my god. Are you okay?"

"I just fell out of an airplane without a parachute and I have no idea how I survived."

His look of concern immediately turns into horror when he pulls his hand off your waist to see it come back covered in your crimson blood. His face falls. Then it hits you all at once, and you're overcome with a nauseating wave of dizziness - the aftereffects were beginning to get to your head.

The super-soldier hurriedly jammed a finger to his ear. "I got her. We're on our way back. Prepare the medbay; she's gonna have to be operated on as soon as we land."

"Yes, sir," a STRIKE agent replied from the receiving end. "We'll get right to it. Please have a safe flight home."

"Thank you."

Steve put the jet on autopilot so he could sit with you in the back, frantically applying pressure to your wound and doing his best to patch you up. But with each round the bandages made around your waist, the blood flow increased, seeping through the fabric. You didn't have to tell him directly for him to know you didn't have much time left and if he were to save you, you would need to get back home, fast.

...

As soon as Steve stepped down the ramp with your limp, unconscious body in his arms, he was bombarded by a flurry of medbay agents, who had you in a gurney and were wheeling you away within minutes. He tried to follow after them but Tony quickly grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.

"Let me go," he growled. "I swear to Odin, Stark, if you don't-"

"You can't follow her in there."

"I can if I want to."

Tony let out a sigh of defeat. "Rogers. She's going to be fine."

"How do you know? How can you possibly guarantee her survival?"

"I just know. Sheesh, you're a hopeless romantic."

...

You glanced over at the monitor tracking your vitals beside your bed, the constant beeping of the machines seemingly echoing in your brain on a loop. You were too exhausted to do anything at the moment, but you couldn't seem to fall back asleep, even with the drugs coursing through your system.

You try to shift around and find a more comfortable position, and felt a twinge of pain on your right side. Note to self; don't place all your body weight on the side where a bullet tore through your stomach. Bad idea.

Laying flat on your back again, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall back asleep. But sleep never comes, and a few minutes later a knock on your door pulls you out of your momentary trance.

"Hey there, soldier," you managed a sleepy grin as Steve stepped into the room, pulling up a chair to your bedside. "Nice weather outside, isn't it? Feels like just yesterday I was gunned down and forced to drive myself to near-suicide...wait, that was yesterday, right? I've lost all sense of time-telling-"

You paused and looked back over to see a rare sight - he was on the verge of breaking down. His bright blue eyes were dulled and glossed over with fresh tears that threatened to spill, and although it had barely been over a day since your admittance to the hospital, it looked like he hadn't slept in over a week. And it was all your fault.

"Are you okay...?"

He shook his head, clenching his fists in his lap so tightly that they began turning white. "You’re seriously asking me if I’m okay? I almost lost you. You almost died."

"I'm sorry-"

"If I hadn't gotten to you in time, then...I don't know what I'd do if-"

"Steve, it's not your fault."

"I let you down, Y/N." His voice was cracked and raw, as if he'd been crying for hours on end beforehand. Your heart shattered at the sound. "I let you down and I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I'm sorry I left you alone on that ship because I didn't look out for you well enough. This is all on me. My job was to protect you, to look out for you. And I failed to do that."

"You didn't fail, Steve," you said softly. "You did your best. You saved me. I'm alive right now because of what you did."

The super-soldier inhaled sharply and moved his chair closer so he could reach his hand out to place it on your forehead, letting it stay there for a moment before sliding it down to cup your cheek. You didn't make any efforts to remove it and if you were being honest with yourself, you liked how his warm skin felt against your own. He smelled like honey and freshly ground coffee and everything good in the world. He made you feel like you were at home.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you let yourself bask in his warmth, melting into his soft touch. If it weren't for your currently uncomfortable predicament, you would've fallen asleep on the spot all over again.

"Something's on your mind, isn't there," you mumbled, eyes still closed. Even without your powers, it didn't take much for you to figure out that something was wrong. "Tell me what's going on."

You opened your eyes again to see that there were tears streaming down his face. He hastily tried to wipe them away with one hand as the other was gently placed on top of yours, but his efforts were fruitless, of no avail whatsoever.

"Steve-"

"I was so worried," he croaked out. "I don't want to think about how things would be if you died. I can't live without you."

"I'm here now, okay? I'm going to be fine. I'll heal," you said softly. "You saved me, you caught me, so now I'm okay. We're okay." You moved over slightly to give him room to sit. Steve's arms encircled your waist as yours slid down and over his shoulders, and he pressed his trembling lips to your temple.

It was quiet. Whispered oh-so-quietly, as if he was hesitant to open his mouth. But you heard it regardless.

"I love you."

You smiled sadly. "I know. I love you too."

"Just...please don't try and pull off something off like that again."

"I won't. I promise."

You heard each shaky inhale and exhale as he tried to regain his composure - strong arms tightening around your figure with his face buried into the crook of your neck. Letting out a trembling sigh, you held onto him even tighter as if by some miraculous way, doing so could keep him from falling apart. As if somehow, your arms being around him could squeeze all the million little shattered pieces of his heart back together again.

You knew deep down, exactly why he had been so afraid to watch you meet your potential end. It was the jet plunging into the depths of the icy blue, monstrous sea. He didn't want you to experience even a fraction of what he had and prayed you’d never have to. He swore a silent oath to himself to shield you away from as much of the horrifying world as he possibly could, but you were nearly dragged under by the clutches of Death herself that day, and he couldn't help but feel like he failed you.

You took in a deep breath, inhaling his fresh scent of coffee grounds and warm honey as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. For the briefest moment in time you could pretend everything was in fact, going to be okay, because it was just you and him wrapped up in each others' arms without a care in the world. It was just you and him, basking in each others' warmth, silent whispers of reassurance into his ear and repeated soft, fleeting kisses to his temple that reminded him you were still alive and breathing, and you were just fine.

For the first time in a long time, Steve Rogers felt whole again. The hole in his heart was gone, the void finally filled. And all it took was your presence, and your presence alone.

...

(if your username is striked out, that means i couldn’t add you)

general tags and mutuals who may be intersted (if your username is here, pls go check the taglist link in my bio to specify which specific taglist you’d like to be added to!): @sylvie-writes @zaddychris @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sis-it-dont-add-up @tonystankschild @buckybarnesthehotshot @musicalkeys @carryonmywaywardbucky @thinkingofbuckybarnes @rynhaswritersblock @wheresmyjae @captainchrisstan @sandystoriess @patzammit @cicicantblog​

permanent tags: @sandwitch-god @renaissancecherub @poesflygirl

steve/chris tags: @speechlessxx @angrybirdcr @marvelfanatic16 @stainedsouvenir @smokeandnailz

[quinncupine]

Obscured Chapter Two: Back To Work

Chapter Word Count: 2,952

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Link: AO3

Previous Chapter: One

Next Chapter: Three

MASTERLIST

...

It didn't exactly surprise Izuku when the hoard of journalists jumped him once he arrived at the hero agency. They surrounded his car as soon as he parked. We wasn't sure how they could pop up that fast with all that heavy camera equipment. They probably trained for it, it seemed they literally chased leads these days.

He stepped out, wearing his signature smile he'd perfected years ago for the public. Camera's and microphones were shoved in his face as they hit him with all sorts of questions. So many talked at once that they drowned each other out.

"Deku, Deku!" Once of them shouted. "Tell us, what have you been doing these past two weeks?"

Deku didn't see a way out of the little crowd that formed around him.

"Have you been investigating the murder of Kanaye Tatsuya?" Another asked.

He gently pushed his way through, he really didn't feel like answering any questions.

"What about your wife?" Someone stubbornly blocked his path. "How is she handling all this?"

"Yes," Another added. "Where is Y/N Midoriya? What precautions are you taking to protect your family?"

They were rapid firing questions too fast for him to think of any safe answers to give.

"Do you think villains will continue to target your family?" Someone yelled above the rest of the chatter.

Izuku glanced around him, nervously flexing his hands. He'd forgotten how...persistent these reporters could be. Camera's flashed in his face. They were waiting for him to show some sort of emotion, not that they didn't know he was the emotional type, that was public knowledge by now. They were waiting for something juicy to gossip about, but he held firm, keeping that soft smile on his face as he tried to think of something to say that would satiate them for the time being. It was a hard thing to do when surrounded by wolves, ready to rip apart their prey.

"Well, I, uh..." Yeah, he was great with words. "Mr. Tatsuya's death is under police investigation. They will do everything in their power to find the one responsible."

"Are you saying that you're not involved in this case anymore?"

"I-"

Someone cut him off. "Are you happy Mr. Tatsuya is dead? He kidnapped and attacked your wife, you must hate the man."

Izuku frowned. They were trying to lure him into a trap, to get him to say something he'd eventually regret.

"Some are saying you had a hand in this?" A man shouted from somewhere within the crowd, holding his mic over a few heads. "Is that true?"

Izuku's calm façade faltered for a moment, ready to counter him, but he froze. He couldn't let himself get bested by some hungry gossipers. He looked for another escape route, but they had surrounded him with a wall of people.

One of the reporters stepped too close to Izuku, a cheeky looking redhead with a wide grin. "There are a lot of rumors out there. Some are saying a diehard fan killed him for you, yet there are others that say it was a plot devised by a drug ring based in Tokyo." She stuck the mic in his face. "What are your thoughts Deku?"

Woah, that information was not supposed to be public knowledge and based on the reactions of the others, they didn't know this info yet either. How the hell did this woman know about the Kobaruto? Someone was feeding her information.

The others went wild, tossing crazy and speculative assumptions around, waiting for him to answer the question.

"Uh..."

Fortunately, he was cut off when someone roared behind him.

"Buzz of vultures!" Bakugo yelled. "This is private property."

The reporters took one look at Bakugo and scrambled away as he stalked over. Even they weren't dumb enough to mess with someone like Katsuki Bakugo, especially if he appeared to be in a bad mood, which was most of the time. They learned early on that the now number two hero doesn't take ambush journalism kindly.

"Kacchan?" Izuku blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think dumbass?" Bakugo grabbed Izuku by the collar of his jacket and dragged him into the building.

Once they were inside and out of prying eyes, Izuku freed himself, straightening out his jacket. Bakugo was wearing civilian clothes which surprised Izuku, he was supposed to be working today.

"You found something, didn't you?" Izuku's eyes widened.

Bakugo growled and kept walking. "Office, now."

Izuku caught up to him and they walked together through the building. Every time they ran into an intern or sidekick, they were stopped as they welcomed Deku back. Bakugo looked irritated, but kept his mouth shut. The entire place seemed to buzz with excitement now that Deku had returned. It had been a strange two weeks without him there.

When Izuku finally made it to his office, he saw Shoto waiting inside, leaning on one of the couches.

"Shoto," Izuku paused at the open doorway. "Is everything alright?"

Shoto straightened himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, things are fine."

Bakugo pushed past Izuku and sneered at Shoto. "What's this bastard doing here?'

"I could say the same for you." He crossed his arms.

Izuku glanced outside before shutting the door. "Kacchan is helping me with the investigation."

"I came to offer my assistance as well."

"Pass, we got enough losers on this case as it is." Bakugo stuck his thumb at Izuku.

"Midoriya, I want to help."

Izuku looked at Shoto. He valued him as a close friend and comrade, probably his closest friend, and yet these past few weeks were strenuous on both parties. Shoto was still holding that anvil of self-hatred over his head and it was getting heavier and heavier to carry.

He blamed himself for almost seriously injuring you when they had all come to your rescue. Since then, Shoto seemed to only be distancing himself from the both of you. He barely talked to Izuku, who had tried several times to get through to him, and completely avoided you altogether, as if that would somehow fix things. Poor Momo was acting as middle-man between the two of you since Shoto refused to talk.

"Alright," He said after a long moment of debate. "But you can't keep avoiding...people. This case revolves around her."

Shoto lowered his head. "I apologize. I realize that I've been acting-"

"Like an asshole?" Bakugo supplied.

"Childish." He finished. "There is a lot of unresolved issues that I hadn't realized were still there." He looked up. "But I want to help now."

Izuku studied him. He was standing taller, a more confident shine to his eyes, something he was seriously lacking these last few weeks. Between the cracks of that old familiar wall Shoto had buried himself behind again, he saw remnants of his friend.

Izuku beckoned him to follow as he went behind his desk. He set his bag on the top and pulled out a large stack of folders. It was a mess of sticky notes, tabs, and a few coffee stains. His handwriting was scribbled in every blank space he could find, all his thoughts put in pen.

"These are the case files." He handed them to Shoto. "Everything Tsukauchi gave me."

Shoto leafed through them. "Are you sure it's the Kobaruto behind this?"

"I know they're connected somehow." He crossed his arms. "Tatsuya was dealing with them, and they're the only known suppliers of Trace."

"Trace. It's fairly new, right?" Shoto pulled out a crumpled paper and looked it over.

"Yeah, started showing up a little over six months ago." He nodded. "It's reminiscent of Trigger. They share similar traits. I wouldn't be surprised if this is some variant of it."

"Trigger. The quirk enhancing drug." Shoto looked up. "I haven't seen that in a while."

"Apparently, Trace is the new drug of choice now." Izuku narrowed his eyes. "But they're careful who they sell to. We haven't been able to catch any of the dealers yet."

"And we can't rely on the druggie's." Bakugo said. "Trace degrades your mental state." He shook his head. "No, more like shreds it. Even if Tatsuya wasn't killed, he was never going to recover after months of that kind of abuse."

"What do you know about the Kobaruto?" Shoto asked.

"That's the problem." Izuku frowned. "We know next to nothing about them. They appeared out of the blue one day with a brand new drug. They might be small, but they know how to evade us."

"That's because I wasn't looking for them before." Bakugo punched his hands together. "I'll find them and destroy every last one of those bastards."

Shoto placed the files back inside the folder as neatly as he could. The colored tabs stuck out at various angles looking like the entire might explode any second.

He tapped the top of the folder. "I'll follow up on some of these leads. I'll let you know what I find."

"Shoto," Izuku called as he turned to leave. "Don't talk to anyone else about this. For now, it's still technically in Tsukauchi's jurisdiction. There is no official co-op on this."

He nodded and left quietly, closing the door behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Bakugo rounded on Izuku. "You sure he's up for this? The bastard's been flakey as of late." He narrowed his eyes. "I can beat some sense into him."

Izuku stared at the door. "You know he's always been insecure about his fire. What happened just pushed him over the edge." He shook his head. "He won't talk to me about it and he won't even look at Y/N."

Bakugo rested his palms on the back of a chair. "He's an idiot, that's nothing new."

Izuku plopped in his chair behind the desk and rubbed his head. "You found something right?"

Bakugo glanced at the door before sitting in front of the desk. "Yeah, about that imposter at the police station. I've been looking into it."

Izuku sat up. "What did you find?"

"Nothing much." He grumbled. "If this guy was good enough to impersonate All Might, in front of Tsukauchi no less, then he's good at covering this tracks."

Izuku leaned back, folded his hands and stared out the large windows that covered half his office. The first sign of the sun was just coming over the horizon and cast gentle waves of light through the office. It usually calmed him down, but today, it seemed like his nerves were ready to break straight through the window.

"This isn't good."

"No, it isn't." Bakugo agreed. "But I did find one thing."

Izuku looked back at him.

Bakugo pulled out his phone and set in on the desk. The screen showed a grainy picture taken in the dark. It was hard to make it out, but it was clearly a figure that was running across what looked to be a rooftop. The only distinguishable trait was the blue Kabuki mask underneath a black hood.

Izuku picked up the phone and examined the picture closely. "Who is this?"

"Don't know." Bakugo crossed his arms, a deep frown on his face. "This is the only solid picture I could find. Guy's a ghost."

"You think he's connected to the Kobaruto somehow?" Izuku zoomed in on the mask.

"There's been rumors spreading around the underworld, about a man in a mask." Bakugo took the phone back.

"So how's he connected?"

"Eyewitness reports put him in their territory." He leaned forward. "I don't have any solid evidence yet, but if I had to guess, I would say he's one of their runners."

"If we can bring this guy in- Izuku stood up. "-then he could actually give us some answers."

"Now that sounds fun." Bakugo smirked. "He likes to roam the Maridun district, but he only seems to come out at night to play."

"Then we'll wait for night to head out."

"No way, this is my lead." Bakugo stood up.

"But-"

"No. Besides, you have other things to take care of." He narrowed his eyes, daring Izuku to argue.

They had a glaring contest before Izuku huffed and looked down. Again, he felt conflicted. He really wanted to track down this guy. The sooner they could solve this case, the sooner everyone could get their lives back on track. On the other hand, he didn't want to leave you alone for so long, not when there were so many serious dangers still lurking out there. He ran through all the scenarios in his mind, trying to find a way to do both, but Bakugo was right.

"Fine," He relented. "But at least bring someone with you. Shoto wou-"

"Hell no!" Bakugo yelled. "I'm not going anywhere with two face."

"Kacchan..."

Bakugo ground his teeth and looked away. "I'll bring Kirishima in on this. I trust him."

Izuku nodded. "Fine. Keep me updated."

"I'll let you know when I bring this fucker in." Bakugo pocketed his phone and turned to leave.

"Thanks," Izuku said quietly as he reached the door. "Kacchan."

Bakugo looked him over and left.

Izuku deflated into his chair, running a hand through his hair. This case was growing more and more complicated by the minute. There was just no way that Tatsuya's death was a coincidence, everyone knew that, even the media had come to the same conclusion. There was something bigger behind this, he was sure of it. That's why he didn't want to leave you, even if Ochaco and Momo were with you. You were his responsibility to keep safe and so far, he'd failed pretty miserably at that.

His phone rang, startling him. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the caller I.D. and saw your name. A million thoughts ran through his head, most of them not good, as he answered the phone.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" He practically yelled into the phone.

"What? Of course." You answered casually. "I just thought I'd call to make sure everything was going well. The media's already twisting your words."

"You know you shouldn't watch the news." He leaned back in his chair. "It'll rot your common sense."

"Yeah, well, there's not much else to do when you're stuck inside all day." You grumbled.

Izuku frowned. "I'm sorry. This is my fault-"

"Hey, what did I say about throwing self-pity parties?" You scolded.

He rubbed his eyes with a smirk. "Sorry."

"And stop it with all this sorry crap. Sorry is for idiots who actually did something stupid." You huffed. "And don't think I don't see all those heroes casually strolling past the house. I know you asked them to."

Izuku rubbed his neck. "Uh, well..."

"Yeah, yeah," You sighed. "I know you're just worried. I also know that you're keeping things from me."

"W-what do you mean?" A lump formed in his throat.

"I know there are certain things you don't tell me. Stuff about your hero work and I get that, but..." You paused. "You would tell me if there was more to this, right?"

You were smart. You could always catch him in a lie. He hated lying to you, it felt horrible, but he also hated the look that crossed your face whenever Tatsuya was brought up. It was still affecting you big time and he couldn't stand to see you so upset. Nothing good would come of it if you were let in on the case, so there was really no need to tell you. At least that's how he justified it.

"Look, Y/N, I-"

"Save it." You interrupted him. "Just go back to work...and stay safe."

"Yeah." He said quietly. "I'll be home before dinner."

"Ok. Love you." You muttered.

"Love you too."

You hung up before he could even finish, leaving him with a sour taste in his mouth. You had every right to be upset, but you were keeping it all to yourself. You didn't let Izuku in on your personal thoughts anymore like you used to. There was a growing gap between the two of you and he didn't like it one bit. Everything he did seemed to only widen that gap and he wasn't sure how to build the bridge over it.

He groaned and laid his head on the desk. The cool wood felt comforting and he closed his eyes for a minute, trying to get in the right headspace to start the day. He was scheduled to start patrols again, but at the moment, his heart just wasn't in it.

After awhile, the phone on his desk rang and he almost vaulted out of his chair to reach it. "Hello?"

"Midoriya." It was Tsukauchi. "Sorry to call so early."

It's fine chief, what is it?" Izuku felt his stomach churn, Tsukauchi's voice sounded tight.

"You know the Hashira gang?" He asked. "They run drugs, mainly operating out in the Agamar Quarter."

Izuku nodded. "Yeah, small-time. What about them?"

"We just found them."

"What do you mean?" He had an excellent guess as to what he meant.

"They were all killed last night." Tsukauchi said. "Got an anonymous tip this morning on where to find them. It's a real mess out here."

"The entire gang was taken out?" Izuku stood up, gripping onto the cord. "A gang war?"

It couldn't be a coincidence that a rival gang was just exterminated. This was a big move, one with a lot of consequences.

"Possibly. We just got here. I'll know more when I inspect the scene, but," He paused. "Well, you need to get down here. There's something you need to see."

If that didn't spell ominous, Izuku wasn't sure what would.

"I'm on my way."

It seemed he'd have to postpone patrols for a little while longer.

Tag List: @miriobaby @hmm-cats @thecindy @awilddreamerwrites @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku @sailorstupidsblog @kehlaniwwe

...

Chapter 3

If you wanna be added to the tag list just let me know!!! Thanks Loves!

[wonhaebunny]

AAA OKAY @cynthia-of-the-wallflowers YOU SENT ME A FOLDER ASK AND I WAS IN THE PROCESS OF ANSWERING IT WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED SO HERE IT IS AGAIN!!!

this hc is that over time, katsuki grows kind of protective of denki when he's in 'derp-mode'. it starts when he makes denki overuse his quirk after kamino to distract the class. he doesn't think of it at first when he drags the idiot into a bush and makes him fry himself. he's too focused on eijirou's unusually downcast expression. but afterwards, when they're all laughing again, katsuki's eye catches on a still-giggling denki, who's ambling around aimlessly with his thumbs stuck out. there's something, just something, that's sad about the sight. the way denki careens around unconsciously and everyone just lets him as they laugh. katsuki is no stranger to quirk side-effects, and he thinks for a moment that if he was stuck with a quirk like denki's and had people laughing at him every time he overused his own quirk, he'd probably commit homicide. but denki just takes it. hell, he even let katsuki force him into it, without demanding so much as an explanation.

suddenly, just like that, the sight of denki's lax face and bobbing head isn't so funny to katsuki.

he scowls, leaning forward to wrap a hand around the giggling boy's wrist and tug him back into the building without another word. katsuki stays with denki until he's back, slowly slumping back into himself and dropping his arms to his sides as his expression cinches.

"ah." denki says quietly, laughing as he rubs the back of his neck. "man, that was a long one, huh?"

his smile is strained, katsuki notices. he looks tired. katsuki realises in that moment that he's never actually stuck around to watch denki come back from 'derp-mode'. he's always just assumed that the idiot would bounce back, like nothing happened. instead, he watches denki slump back against the counter and rub at his forehead with a sigh.

"do you need to fuckin' see recovery girl?" katsuki asks (well, demands, really) finally. denki simply smiles at him hollowly, knowing katsuki enough to understand that this is his roundabout way of asking if denki is okay.

"it's fine!" he says lightly. "just a migraine. it happens after particularly long episodes of... that."

after a moment's pause, denki tacks on another awkward laugh in a weak attempt to dissolve the tension. it fails.

denki smiles again, still a little weak, and brushes past him and out the door with a clap on the shoulder. katsuki doesn't move from his spot, still mulling over the other's words.

an episode, denki had called it. it's... a weird choice of words.

katsuki doesn't notice he's watching denki more closely, until a few weeks later when the other is asked to use his quirk in team training.

"just blow out the electricity." kyouka says to denki, gesturing at one of the giant buildings in the USJ joint that they're using. denki eyes it dubiously, and kyouka shoves at his shoulder gently.

"c'mon, jamming-whey, we'll take bring you back safe and sound when you're in derp-mode." she teases.

katsuki doesn't realise he's walking over until he's standing between them.

"i'll do it." he says roughly, mouth moving faster than his brain. "i'll just blow the fuckin' place up if we're sure there are no civilians in there."

kyouka shrugs, using her quirk to make sure the building is empty before she nods her assent. but denki is still staring at katsuki, eyes narrowed slightly.

it happens another time. and again after that. katsuki doesn't stop denki from using his quirk altogether, he's just... he's realising now how quick the class is to send him into 'derp-mode' without a second thought. something about it grates at him.

after the fifth time katsuki butts in when a classmate asks denki to complete a particularly large task, the electric-quirk user pulls katsuki aside after class.

"hey, man, what's going on?" he asks bluntly. "you seem hell-bent on not letting me do any work in training."

katsuki scowls, kicking at the floor roughly.

"i'm fuckin' not." he says. "i just think you should learn your damn limits instead of relying on your stupid 'yay-mode' so easily."

denki watches him for a long moment, arms crossed across his chest.

"oh." he says finally, expression tightening. "this is about that day."

he's talking about the day katsuki had sat with him, watched him get a migraine. katsuki doesn't deny it, glaring at the floor with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"bakugou." denki sighs. "i'm only gonna get better through training it."

katsuki growls, glaring at the other.

"you're not training shit." he spits. "you're just overusing your quirk unnecessarily and hurting yourself all the damn time."

denki's expression flickers to one of confusion briefly.

"why...?" he begins. "since when did you..."

care.

the word he was going to say was care. and that stings, somewhere deep in katsuki's chest, because he knows that it's 100% warranted.

"i didn't know." he mutters finally. "i'm an asshole but i'm not enough of one to hurt people for fun."

the other's expression shifts to one of sympathy, and he leans forward to pat katsuki's shoulder.

"i didn't mean-"

"shut up." katsuki snaps. "you're changing the fuckin' subject. stop using your quirk when it's not necessary and i won't interfere."

"and what if someone asks me to? what then?" denki asks slowly, incredulously.

"then you sock 'em in the damn face and tell them to do it themselves." katsuki says viciously, making denki snort.

"even you?" he asks teasingly. "are you giving me permission to sock even you in the face?"

katsuki frowns, tilting his head back to squint at the other.

"yes." he says finally, a little too heavily for denki's lighthearted ribbing.

"especially me."

[blinder-secrets]

Patching Up - Arthur

‘I would die for you.’ 

arthur x fem!reader, 3,300 words

prompt list

ao3 link

The betting shop is empty, cold and filled with that pale, blue light that only the moon can give. If it weren’t for Arthur, pilfering through the forms and sheets on Polly’s desk, it’d be silent. Instead, his grumbles fill the space. His careless searching cushions the room with enough noise to make it feel busy.

‘A fuckin’ mess,’ he says, to no-one. His rings catch against the wood of the table as he discards another folder. ‘Where the hell is it?’

When he can’t find what he’s looking for, he sighs heavily and collapses into the chair behind him. His feet go onto the desk, crossed at the ankles, and his hands go under it, reaching for something that will be found. Something that’s there every time. He grabs the neck of the bottle and Pol’s wine is brought to the surface, uncorked and at his lips before he’s even paused to read the label. It’s sour, fortified, and it stains his tongue but does the job. Makes his efforts seem somewhat worthwhile. He leans back in the seat and sighs again, sitting the bottle on his stomach. The desk’s a mess after him, but he tells himself it was like that before, she won’t know any different. He straightens the paper nearest to him like that’ll guarantee it.

As he takes another drink, there’s the sound of the door, the fall and creak of it opening and shutting again. Then his name, barked and rounded in John’s tongue. His footsteps chase him as he moves through the shop. His voice is nearer when it comes again.

‘Arthur? You ‘ere?’

‘Yeah, John,’ he drones, talking through the catch of wine in his throat, ‘am here.’

John appears in the doorway, coat open and out around him like it’s only just caught up. He frowns at the sight, at his brother reclined in Polly’s office, drinking Polly’s port, but blinks it away again. ‘Right,’ he says, ‘you better come see this.’

‘What is it?’ He gestures outwards, bottle in his palm like it’s stuck there. ‘I’m doing… stuff. Things. Work, John.’

‘It’s [y/n]. She’s lost it, Arthur.’

‘Ay?’ That’s caught his attention. He drops his feet to the floor, heels slapping against the boards, and sits upright. ‘Lost what?’

‘Lost it. Pissed out her head.’ He’s panting between his words; he’s run the whole way. ‘She’s in the Garrison, saying she’ll burn it down before you’re back again. S’fucking messy, Arthur, I couldn’t get her to stop.’

‘Alright, alright.’ The bottle’s abandoned on the desktop, his hands reaching to smooth his hair back, and then back again. ‘Alright,’ he repeats.

‘Fucking madder than Danny whiz-bang.’

‘Shut up, John.’ He stands, the chair rocks back on two feet. ‘You make her bloody worse,’ he scolds. Then he’s in motion, around the desk and past John through the shop, only pausing to grab his coat and cap from the stand by the door.

‘It’s not like with you,’ John warns from behind, ‘it doesn’t come from nothing.’

He doesn’t get a response. Arthur shuts the door before he can follow him out.

It isn’t raining but it may as well be, the noise behind his skull fills the street, smothers his ears from the inside. Static like sheeted-rainfall. He isn’t built for mending, for putting things together. He can barely keep his own strings tied. All it takes is one edge to fray, and then he’s unwinding, spiralling and twisting ’til he’s unrecognisable. When she goes, she takes him with her. It’s hard to stay whole when someone’s falling to pieces beside you.

It’s something he’s had to learn, though. She’s needed it from him. Since they got back, she’s been different, and he’s adapting to it still. He doesn’t like it, and he’s not the best at it, but if he manages to calm her without losing it himself, it’s a victory. A battle won is a battle won, no matter how small or how local.

He sets his cap in place and dips his chin as he walks. His gait is quick enough to disturb the surface of the road, grit spitting behind every time he lifts his foot. If she was drunk enough to send John running, he doesn’t have long before it gets out of hand, before she’s too worked up to come down again. Under his breath, he curses her — for picking him to rely on, for being too like him to pick anyone else. For expecting him to come back from France whole. She’d wanted him and she’d gotten this, these pieces, this tarnished copper. That’s what had set her off, left her fraying like he is. If he didn’t feel responsible for it he wouldn’t be on his way to her now. There’s loyalty in heartbreak, a kind that can’t be shaken.

When he reaches the Garrison, the outside’s quiet. The street’s dark, and light glows through the mottled windows, but he can’t hear anything that he shouldn’t, no raised voices above the hum. At least she hasn’t started any fires yet. That’s one thing, one threat that was empty and wasted. Pace unfaltering, he pushes on, opening the double doors with both palms extended. Meeting the warmth with the same steadiness he intends to keep.

————————————————————————

You’re barely conscious when you hear your name, loud and rattling into the pub. The bar is cold, topped with copper, or brass, you don’t know, don’t care. It’s cold and so your cheek is against it. Your eyes are closed but if you opened them you’d be looking straight along it, through the glasses and the ash trays. Over hands and owed-money. Your gaze would go right to the end and into the wall where there’s nothing at all.

‘[Y/n].’

It’s your name again. You know who’s saying it, but you can’t face him yet. Too loud, he is, too loud and too right about everything. You just want to wait, and rest, and let your eyelids be as heavy as they like. The barkeep was angry before, but he hasn’t said anything since you sat and put your head down. What harm could it do to stay a little longer.

‘Mr. Shelby,’ he says, from somewhere near the top of your head, speaking from outside the buzz. ‘I think she’s asleep, sir.’

He’s chosen to betray you, then, to point you out. It only takes a minute for his decision to ruin your peace. He says it and then you aren’t alone anymore, and the bar isn’t cold against your face because there’s a hand on your shoulder, dragging you upright. You go to complain but it comes out as a whine, sticky and clinging to your throat.

‘Nah,’ Arthur says, ‘not sleeping, are you, love?’

‘Trying. Wishing.’ You’d shrug him off but his hand is glued to your jumper, you think. Or your shoulder’s too lazy to listen to your brain. ‘Go please. Go, go.’

You may be upright, but your eyes are closed still, and he’s talking to you like you’re there. Like you’re conscious enough to answer him.

‘What’s this I’m hearing, ay, about you wanting to burn down my pub?’

Your head drops to the side, away from him like he pushed it. When you don’t answer, he hums and shakes your shoulder. You wince. Your brain rattles against itself.

‘Get us a water, Harry.’

‘Don’t want water,’ you say. You’re ignored. Of course you are, you hear the glass clink as it’s set down in front of him.

Before you can argue again, it’s in your face, cold and fresh and dripping down your cheeks. Your eyes open and the brightness hurts, and the water stings, and Arthur is staring at you with the empty glass in his hand.

‘What the fuck?’ You stretch your sleeves over your wrists and dry your face, limbs moving quickly in the unwelcome burst of sobriety.

‘You weren’t listenin’,’ he states, setting the glass down. ‘Now you are.’

‘I was, I just wasn’t talking.’ Once they’re dry, your cheeks are hot again. Flushed, like the water had wiped a layer of drunkenness from you, just to reveal another beneath. ‘You’re so fucking…’ You don’t finish the sentence, you just wipe your eyes with the heels of your palms.

‘So, what have you got against my pub, eh?’

You scoff. If you’d said it, you don’t remember doing so. You don’t remember anything past John telling you to drink, then telling you to stop, then telling you that you had to grow up. That you had to stop complaining about fucking love, and fucking futures, and fucking Arthur. That it all had to stop, ‘cause it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t your thing to complain about.

‘He started it,’ you say, under your breath so he might not hear.

‘Started what, hm?’ His voice is loud. Close. Accent round and familiar and nice, but annoying. So  annoying when your head’s where it is. ‘Why am I fucking here?’ he asks.

Because John starts arguments he can’t finish. Because you got drunk, and then drunker, and then everything was fast and blurred. And problems started climbing over each other to get out of your mouth, to spit into the air at anyone who’d listen.

‘You can’t keep doing this,’ he says. ‘How does it look, ey, to have you shouting up the pub every week?’

‘Oh, who gives a fuck about reputation, Arthur.’ You turn to him scornfully. He’s inviting them up again, the words that sting as they escape. ‘As if anyone fucking comes here expecting grace. As if I don’t fit right in with the rest of you.’

His hand drops from your shoulder. You hadn’t realised it was still there. ‘It’s a fucking business, love. Can’t I hope for a little improvement?’

‘Only if you start with yourself.’ You watch his jaw tense then look away. There’s a glass to your left, half-full with something clear and inviting. You reach for it but he stops you, pins your wrist down, leaves your fingers curled and yearning for it.

‘You’ve had enough,’ he warns. He’s above you slightly, standing to lean across and keep you still.

’Are you here to help?’ you ask sweetly. Falsely. ‘Or to make my night worse?’

‘I’m here,’ he starts, lifting your wrist and bringing it back as he sits again, ‘cause John said you’re like Danny whiz-bang.’ He puts your hand down in front of you, close to yourself, and not the alcohol.

You tut, shaking your head. You want to abandon the conversation. They don’t get it and they won’t, no matter how many times you go over it. No matter how loud you shout it.

Arthur drops his head, finding your gaze and keeping it, holding it with that stare he has. ‘What fucking war have you got to go bang over?’ he asks, harsh like he’s whispering, loud despite it. ‘What is it? Cause I can’t fuckin’ get in there to find out.’

He’s pointing a finger to your temple; you wave it away. ‘Ask John,’ you quip. ‘He knows everything, apparently.’

Arthur scoffs, rocking back in his stool. ‘Like fuckin’ kids, you are. Bicker worse than Tom and Ada did.’

You watch him sigh. Watch him wipe his brow, and flatten his moustache, and smooth the crease from his pant-leg. Watch him attempt to brush away the stresses before dealing with you again.

‘You’re sick of me, aren’t you?’ you ask, though accuse is a better word for it. ‘Y’know, I didn’t ask for you to come. I told him not to get you.’

‘Sick of ya?’ He wants to laugh, but he looks confused. His eyebrows pinch. ‘What the fuck goes on in your head, lass? Eh?’

He hums, like he expects you to answer, like he wants a concise list of it all.

‘I’m fucking here for you,’ he says, ‘always.’

‘And when you weren’t, gin was.’ You face him, turn your body so it’s matched to his. ‘Whiskey was. I never drank before you—’

‘So, it’s my fault.’ He nods. It isn’t convincing, and he doesn’t mean it to be. ‘Yeah, yeah, alright, you tell yourself that, love. See how it helps ya.’

You drop your head back, let it fall slack between your shoulder blades so you can stare at the ceiling. It’s always the same conversations, over and over. It was all he did, all any of them did. They’d rather talk in circles before they go anywhere else. Before sense is made, before things are heard.

‘I’m not. Fucking. Saying that, Arthur,’ you groan. Your words go up and then down again. From your lips, into the air, then back into your throat. They meet the liquor and strengthen. ‘Am I not allowed to be fucking frustrated? Ever? Can I not just be mad and then stay mad?’

‘Depends,’ he grumbles. ‘I don’t even know what you’re fucking mad about.’

You sigh, heavily, and the breath catches a whine as you set your head straight. ‘You honestly don’t see it?’

He shakes his head. You’ll have to spell it out for him. You’ll have to pick apart the stitches, and lay it all flat, right here, right in the fucking Garrison.

‘When you went to France,’ you start, slipping from the stool to stand in the small gap between you. ‘When you went, you were in love with me, and when you came back you weren’t.’

’S’not true,’ he says, his answer too quick to be a considered one.

‘You only want me when it suits,’ you say. Your finger hits his shoulder, your voice raises and twists bitterly. ‘Only pay attention when I’m being too loud, or too drunk, or too fucking—‘

‘Alright,’ he barks, grabbing your wrist. ‘That’s enough.’

A laugh comes out of you but nothing’s funny. Nothing invites it. ‘That’s my fucking point, Arthur. You don’t even care. You don’t even let me explain.’

‘I care.’

You scoff and tug your arm but he doesn’t let you go.

‘I care,’ he repeats. His eyes are soft, like he might cry, but his voice is sharp. Striking. ‘I would die for you,’ he says, ‘fucking die. Alright?’

‘That’s all you know, Arthur, everything’s death. How to die, how to kill.’ You pull away again and this time his fingers break apart like worn-leather. His hand falls into his lap, you leave it there. ‘What happened to love? Where did that go?’

His chin drops. You know you should stop but you don’t, your words are slick, boozy. Honest but too cruel for him.

‘Do you even remember it?’ you ask. ‘How we were?’

‘Course,’ he answers. ‘Course I do.’ He’s holding his voice tight, quiet, close to his chest. If you were anyone else he’d be shouting. He’d be drunk and falling apart like you were, wanting people to listen like you did.

‘I just…’ You sigh but it feels like a whimper. ‘What did I wait for? What came home?’

It wasn’t him, not as he was. Wasn’t love as it had been. You knew to expect it but it still stung. It still made all the longing and the worry feel useless, pointless. Terrified of losing a man that had already gone. Every time you remember it, every time you think about how he used to be, and how he used to care, it gets too much for even the gin to cover. You don’t want to go off like a whiz-bang but there isn’t anything to wet to fuse. All you have is Arthur to gather the ashes.

‘I miss us.’ You force the confession weakly, push it through the cry that’s waiting to come out. ‘I really miss us.’

His head lifts slightly. He finds your hand to squeeze it. ‘I know, love. I know.’

‘I know it’s hard for you,’ you babble, words sad and tumbling now they’ve caught momentum, ‘and John says it isn’t fair for me to whine about it, but I can’t say nothing.’

‘Don’t listen to him.’ He shakes his head. ‘He dun’t know what helps, just says things and hopes.’

You sniff, and nod, attempting to will the tears back from your waterline. John never means what he says, you just have be sober to realise it. ‘What if he is right, though?’ you ask. ‘I didn’t go to war.’ You stayed home and they went instead. All you had to do was wait, and welcome them back, and love and care and keep going in all the places they’d given up. Surely, that’s the easy job. Surely you can do it better than you have.

Sighing, Arthur stands, and you’re already chest to chest before he puts his arms around you. ‘It weren’t just us,’ he says. Then he pulls your head to his shoulder, his hand flattening your hair, and you let him. You sink into him like you’d begged for it.

‘It’s all learning, alright. We’re all learning.’ He rubs circles on your back. You want to tell him you had enough time to learn, but you know it’s a lie. You know he won’t hear it. ‘Let’s get back, ay?’

‘You’re working,’ you mumble, losing the words behind his lapel.

‘Nah.’ He pushes you back and then brackets your face in his hands.

You’re weighted, fixed down and lazy. Alcohol sagging you now the fire’s gone out. You look at him, blinking, bleary-eyed from it all. He takes it in; checks you over and finds peace in the wreckage. How he does this time and time again, you don’t know, you can’t work it out. It should scare him off but he stays anyway. His hands drop from your face to rub your arms, pushing comfort into the cotton.

‘Bloody work,’ he says quietly, ‘I’ve had enough for today.’

‘I know you care,’ you answer, like he’d asked for it.

He smiles but it doesn’t show past his cheeks. ‘No more alcohol, alright, least not as much. Not when you’re sad, love.’

You nod. You’re always sad.

‘What are we like, hm?’ His hand touches your cheek. You want him to kiss you but he doesn’t. ‘Too bloody similar,’ he says, and you don’t disagree.

————————————————————————

Afterwards, Arthur takes her home. He wraps her in his coat and pulls her, lagging, to Watery Lane, to his house, to his bed. She’d burnt out by the time he’d got to her. It feels selfish to admit it, but he’s glad she did. He wouldn’t have lasted otherwise. He would have fought her and hated himself for it, or maybe hated her for it. It was better not to know.

When they get back, she’s quiet, and she lets him put her together again. She doesn’t complain when he offers her water, barely comments when he warns her of the headache she’ll get in the morning. They change, and wash, and he does all the things he wishes someone would do for him when he’s bad. He knows she would, but then he never lets her see him like that. Not since the first time.

After it’s all done, they go to bed. He puts her there ‘cause it feels safest, furthest away from the things that worry her, close enough to him to make them both feel easy. He reaches for the lamp on the bedside, turning the dial so the light dims. So it feels like just them.

‘Arthur,’ she starts, gently, softly. ‘Are you sure you aren’t sick of me?’

He’d thought she was asleep. She’s lay down already, curled on her side. Now her body pulls around him as he sits on the edge, her knees against one thigh, her chin against the other. Her eyes are closed like she’s dreaming.

‘I’m sure, love.’ He puts his hand to her head, running a thumb across the cheekbone he can see. The other’s hidden against the mattress. ‘Couldn’t ever be sick of you,’ he tells her. He’d only ever get sick of himself.

[blu-joons]

You’re A Fan Of The 50s ~ Super Junior Reaction

Leeteuk:

“Are you sure we’re doing this right?” Jeongsu asked as he glanced down at the recipe once again. “It doesn’t look like it does in the photo Y/N.”

You grabbed the recipe for the Baked Alaska that you both were attempting to make, “yeah, just keep stirring it, it’s only custard, how hard can it be?”

“Pretty hard apparently,” Jeongsu sighed, staring hopelessly down at the pot. “I thought when you showed me this it would be an easy thing to do.”

You shrugged back at him, “it seemed pretty simple when I read about it. And you’ve released a cookbook, you should be able to cook anything.”

He turned back around to face you, “I don’t remember putting any recipes from the fifties into my cookbook though, I’m clueless right now.”

“Just keep stirring,” you dismissed, instructing him from afar. “Sometimes it takes a little while, I’ve just googled what to do when it’s not thickening.”

“I don’t think they had google in the fifties,” Jeongsu teased, “they would have probably just binned this by now and given up.”

“Which is exactly what we’re not going to do, let’s keep going.”

Heechul:

“So, what did you think?” You asked Heechul as the ending credits played for Singing in the Rain. “It’s an absolute classic, don’t you think?”

His head nodded, shrugging you aside gently. “It’s no Lion King, but I can see why you enjoy it so much, the songs are quite cool in it as well.”

“it’s a classic,” you corrected him, watching as he stood up from the sofa. “I can’t believe you’re ignoring so much of the hype that surrounds this film.”

His shoulders shrugged as he straightened out his shirt. “It’s good,” he muttered as he walked across the apartment into the kitchen.

Your head shook back at him, “I bet that you’ll have the song stuck in your head for the rest of the day, by the end of the night you won’t be able to stop.”

“I doubt it,” he hummed, but just a few moments later as you watched him start preparing dinner, you could hear him mumbling the opening line of the song to himself.

“I can hear you,” you smugly chimed, glancing through to him. “I told you that you wouldn’t be able to get it out of your head.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m doing nothing.”

Yesung:

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” you smiled, leaning back in your chair of the car, “the tickets sold out for this so quickly, how did you do it?”

Jonghoon smiled widely across at you, “I saw you looking at an advert for the drive-in cinema, and I knew I had to get tickets for you.”

“You’re the best,” you smiled across at him, holding your hand out for him to take a hold of. “It’s beautiful, just like how I imagined it would be, I can’t quite believe it.”

His eyes glanced between you and the back of the car, “do you know what the best bit is? There’s a few bags of popcorn in the boot for us to enjoy too.”

Your eyes widened at his words, “dd you really?” You laughed, struggling to keep your excitement at bay over how adorable your set up was.

“What’s a film without popcorn?” He shrugged, “I threw a couple of blankets in too, just in case it gets a bit chilly later in the evening.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” you chuckled, letting go of his hand and heading out to the boot. “This might be my favourite date night ever.”

“And the best bit is, it’s only just begun.”

Shindong:

“I can’t do it,” Donghee groaned, continuing to hold onto the barrier of the roller-skating rink. “You’re crazy if you ever think that I’m going to let go of this Y/N.”

Your head shook at his stubbornness, “why don’t you just hold my hand and let me help you, I promise that you’ll enjoy it.”

“I don’t know how you ever managed to convince me to come here,” he cried out, watching as several people flew past you both. “I’m not built for balancing.”

Your eyes rolled back at him, “you’re a dancer, of course, you’re built for balancing. Just give it a try and you’ll soon get the hang of it, just trust me.”

He stared coldly back across at you, “I trusted you when you said that this would be a good idea, I can’t possibly trust you now.”

“Are you scared of falling?” You asked, as his head slowly nodded. “We’ve seen countless people fall tonight, no one will mind.”

“I’ll mind,” he clarified, “I have my pride Y/N, there’s no way I’m going to lose my pride by falling on my butt in front of all these people.”

“Just give it a try, please, for me?”

Eunhyuk:

“I’m exhausted,” a familiar voice groaned from behind you as your teacher called for you to take a break. “Why is this so much hard work?”

Your head shook, throwing Hyukjae his water bottle. “I told you to expect something different, this isn’t like what you’re used to.”

“Professional dancers from the fifties deserve a medal,” he chuckled, doubled over as he tried to catch his breath. “And you do this every single week?”

Your head nodded as you took a sip from your water bottle. “It’s easy, I don’t know why you’re making it look so difficult. Call yourself a dancer?”

His head shook, jabbing your waist gently, “I am a dancer, but this is something else. I never imagined that your class would be like this.”

“What did you think it would be like?” You asked him, already well aware of what his preconceptions were. “You thought it would be boring?”

“No,” he smirked, “I just didn’t think it would be as fast as this, maybe a rehearsal at the studio wasn’t a smart thing to do before.”

“At least you won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Siwon:

“How did you find this place?” You chuckled as you followed behind Siwon into the diner. “This is so cool, look at all the décor on the walls.”

He smiled back at you, leading you over to one of the empty booths in the diner. “I did a bit of research on my break today to find somewhere you’d like.”

“Like? I love this place,” you chuckled, struggling to take it all in. “I think this might already be on the list for regular date night places for us both.”

His head shook at your enthusiasm, “at least try the menu first, otherwise you might end up regretting that statement by the end of the night.”

Your eyes looked across at him, “have you seen the food that the waitresses are carrying, it looks like heaven on a plate Siwon.”

“I have to admit, it does look good,” he grinned, barely able to take his eyes away from it, “you might have to roll me out of here tonight.”

“No way,” you laughed, hitting against his arm with one of the menus. “You’ll just have to save some bits for next time we come.”

“I think we’ll definitely come back here.”

Donghae:

“Not like that!” You struggled to hold back yet another laugh as you tried to introduce Donghae to hopscotch, watching him trip over his feet.

He let go of a loud groan, “I know it looks easy, but I just don’t get how people can be so coordinated to jump through the boxes.”

“Did you never do this in school?” You asked him, but he could only shake his head back at you. “I’ve never seen someone struggle so much with just a game of hopscotch.”

A small blush crept onto his cheeks, “why don’t you try and explain the rules to me one last time, I’m sure I’ll be able to get it, just say it nice and slowly.”

Your eyes rolled as he took a step back from the game. “Just throw the stone, and then hop and jump on each number, pick up the stone, and turn around.”

“But how do you know whether to hop or jump on each number?” He innocently asked, sniggering as your eyes rolled yet again.”

“Maybe I should introduce you to something else,” you laughed, “before I end up throwing you back into the fifties.”

“Games from now make a lot more sense I think.”

Ryeowook:

“I’m ready,” Ryeowook chuckled, walking into the living room with his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “And I mean business too, I’m ready to win.”

Your smile grew as you set up the Scrabble board between the two of you. “I hope you know that I’m undefeated when it comes to Scrabble.”

“That’s because you’re yet to play me,” he announced, “there’s a reason I’m the one that’s good at intellectual games within the group, and that’s why I always win.”

Your head shook as you tipped the letter bag out. “This board has been with my family for years, and you can’t claim it now.”

He chuckled lightly, helping you flip all of the letters over, “maybe it’s time for a new home for the game if you’ve had it for so long.”

“No way,” you smirked, nudging his arm gently. “You might be the one who looks smart, but I’m the one who actually is smart.”

“The glasses prove how smart I am,” he groaned, “I’m focusing today, there’s no way I’m going to be defeated by you Y/N.”

“You might live to regret that very soon.”

Kyuhyun:

“This is so cool,” Kyuhyun hummed, flicking through the folder of old vinyl records that you had. “I used to sing so many of these songs growing up.”

You smiled across at him as you sorted out your player, “why don’t you pick one? And we’ll stick it on for old times sake, maybe you could sing me a song?”

“Really?” He asked in a slight moment of disbelief. “I don’t want to be responsible for anything happening to any of these, they’re all so precious.”

You held your hand out for him to pass one across to you, “I’ll sort it out and play it, if you promise you’ll sing to one of them for me?”

His head nodded instantly, “that’s definitely something that I can do. Why don’t you pick one out that you want to listen to me sing to as well?”

“I’d pick out the whole collection if I could,” you complimented, “do you know the one that you picked out? Why don’t you sing that one if you like it so much?”

“Alright,” he hummed, clearing his throat as you took the record out of its pocket and placed it on the player. “I’m so excited to listen to it.”

“I’ll make sure to leave it on for a while, just for you.”

---

Masterlist

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Bridezilla Moments [Request]

BTS X Fem!Reader

Seokjin:

Everything was being moved around at the last minute and it was starting to give you a huge headache, Jin and you had decided to plan the entire wedding alone since it was something you'd dreamed of doing ever since you were a kid but now it was proving to be too much.

"We should have hired someone," You hissed as you looked over the seating arrangement, Jin was sat across from you at the table making small party favours - he was just putting chocolates into bags something you'd been doing for a couple of days now.

"You can do this baby, it's not that hard-"

"Not that hard?!" You snapped dropping the red highlighter you had been using and staring at him,

"Not hard he says! My auntie and Uncle can't sit next to one another because they're getting a divorce but then my auntie can't sit on my mother's table because they hate her," You scoffed throwing the folder onto the floor and running your hands through your hair as you finally broke down thanks to everyone telling you what to do, where to sit them and where not to sit them.

"I'm sick of it! The boys don't want to sit with anyone but each other, but then they want to be close to the bar but close to you!? What am I supposed to do? Move the bar? I'm done!" You yelled at him pushing the folder in his direction and getting up to leave the kitchen. He dropped the chocolate he was holding and followed after you trying to calm you down, he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Babe, please...I'm sorry I was just trying to help-"

"I can't do it Jin, it's too much." You whimpered crying into his chest, this was supposed to be one of the most magical times of your life but you were spending it stressed out over everything happening.

"It's too much."

"We'll make it work," He bent down so he was eye level with you and so that you would look him in the eyes as he spoke to you.

"You sit people where you want them, if they don't like it they can come and talk to me and me alone. If they don't like that idea either then they can leave." He warned you as he kissed the top of your head, trying to calm you down as you laughed softly at the thought of your auntie demanding to be sat somewhere else to Jin. Jin didn't take any shit from anybody and it would be a sight to see.

"Come on, let's go and get you a bubble bath."

Yoongi:

Yoongi frowned when he saw his phone ringing, you were supposed to be at a dress fitting and yet here you were calling him up while he was at a suit fitting.

"Jagiya, what's wrong?" Instead of your voice answering him, he heard a scream before something smashed in the background, he got up from the chair thinking someone was in the house when he heard your best friend begin to speak to him for you.

"She's..She's freaking out a little bit." She admitted and Yoongi frowned looking at the time before he heard you screaming,

"How?! How can you mess it up that badly?!" He'd never heard you this mad about anything before, not even at him when you were in the middle of a fight again something.

"What happened? What's wrong?" He grabbed his keys and began rushing to get to you,

"They got the dress wrong, like...It's nothing that it's supposed to be and it's all ruined...I think you should get here, she won't talk to any of us." He hung up the phone and began rushing to get to the bridal shop as quickly as he could.

When he walked inside you were on the changing room floor crying into your hands about how wrong everything was,

"Jagiya?" You whimpered looking up to see him and sighing,

"It's wrong Yoongi, look at it." You whispered playing with the fabric of the dress as he got down onto his knees beside you, he knew it was nothing that you wanted. He'd seen then dress you'd ordered since it was something you both decided to pay for together,

"Can they fix it? Order a new one?" You shook your head, you knew you must have looked pathetic to everyone inside of the shop but the dress was identical to your grandmothers and it would have meant so much to have worn it down the aisle.

"It won't come in time," You whispered wiping your eyes as you looked up at him, he sighed laying your head on his chest,

"You know you could walk down that aisle in a bin bag and I would marry you, right?" You knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to make you see that wearing a different dress wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

"But I-"

"I know you wanted the dream dress," He cut you off since he knew what you were going to say,

"But you don't need it, all that matters is that you and I get married right?" You nodded in agreement with him, that was the endgame. Married life with Yoongi, dress or no dress you were going to marry the love of your life.

Hoseok:

Hoseok showed you yet another thing that was wrong with the wedding plans, you felt so defeated at this point. You'd done nothing but fight back against everything your mother was doing for the wedding that it was starting to make you want to run off and get eloped with Hoseok. Somewhere far away, where no one would be able to put their input into your wedding because that's what it was, it was supposed to be your wedding and yet here you were. Your mother taking over everything she could because she never got to get married and never got the way she wanted it.

"You have to do something Y/n." He whispered frowning as he looked at the charges your mother was making to your card, you'd been saving up since you had your first ever job and everything was being drained far too quickly.

"Do you even want a..." He paused to read what it was from the invoice sheet,

"Horse-drawn carriage." Your mouth fell open as you looked at the charge it was more expensive than everything on the sheet, it was more expensive than your dress.

"Hobi no...I just-"

"You need to stop her from doing all of this,"

"You don't think I've tried?!" You snapped at him putting down the highlighter you were using to highlight things she's bought that you were returning,

"You don't think I've sat there while she's telling me I need all of these things when I don't?!" You whimpered finally giving up on everything at this point. It was a losing battle with everyone telling you what you did and didn't want at the wedding.

"She's making this a nightmare! I'm sick of everyone telling me what I should and shouldn't do!" You snapped at him falling down onto your knees and sobbing into your hands as you thought about the wedding being nothing like what you wanted and everything your mother wanted instead.

"I'll talk to her...I'll explain everything baby," He whispered rubbing your lower back as you began to cry into his chest about everything that was wrong with the wedding and how you never wanted any of the things she was asking for and buying with your money.

"I'll make sure she understands, I'll speak to her." He whispered kissing the top of your head and trying to reassure you as best as he could that everything would be fine and that he would work everything out as soon as he could.

Namjoon:

The moment your bridesmaids walked out in front of you in the changing room you began sobbing, they'd all picked their own dresses for the wedding and hadn't shown you anything until today, the big day and now you were sobbing.

"Someone get Namjoon." Your maid of honour ordered looking at them as they all rushed to get Namjoon, you weren't in your dress yet you'd been waiting until the final moment to put it on so that you could get fewer wrinkles in it before it was photographed later.

"Jagiya, why are you crying?" That was when all of the bridesmaids stood in place again and he realised what the problem was, all of them were in different colours and different types of dresses instead of one that would make them look a part of the wedding.

"I gave them the colour and length they needed!" You whimpered at him and he held you tightly as you began yelling loudly, he knew it was best for him to keep quiet while you ranted at the girls for being like this,

"Babe, it's an easy mistake," He tried to tell you once they left the room but you snapped,

"My whole wedding day is ruined Namjoon, they can't be in any of the photos with the boys because they won't match, they don't match their flowers...How could I have been so stupid to trust them with this?!" You turned around to go behind the changing screen but knocked over a vase in the process which made you cry harder.

"Babe," Namjoon warned and you stopped looking down at the vase and then at him,

"I'm sorry-" Your voice muffled as he brought you into a calming hug rubbing your lower back and telling you that everything was fine, you didn't need to react like this.

"The only thing that matters is us, right?" You nodded in agreement and he kissed the tip of your nose,

"I'll see you out there then." He kissed you softly and walked out of the room letting you have a minute before you turned to your maid of honor and nodded that you were ready to get changed and go get married.

Jimin:

You wrote down what you thought of the cake on a slip of paper while Jimin just stared down at his phone, this really hadn't been his idea of a fun day at all but he was stuck tasting small pieces of cake with you along with other bits of food.

"Babe? What did you think?" You questioned trying to get some insight on everything,

"It was good," He mumbled not tearing his eyes away from his phone, you had no idea what he was doing but the fact that he wasn't taking this seriously was starting to irritate you.

"Jimin...I need your help with this-"

"I trust you, whatever you think is good just pick it. It's just cake Y/n." He frowned when he heard a sob leave you mouth before you stood up to leave, walking out of the shop and in the direction of his car.

"Baby!? What's wrong!?" He panicked coming up behind you and turning you around to face him but you ignored him moving away from him so he couldn't see you crying like this,

"You don't care, do you? You don't even want to marry me, do you?!" He wondered where all over this was coming from, he was just eating cake with you and now you were accusing him of not wanting any of it.

"Of course, I want to marry you." He cooed trying to touch you but you moved away from his touch not wanting him to just brush this off,

"Ever since we started planning it's been like you don't care! You just want to get this over and done with as soon as possible." You hissed at him getting into the car and staring out of the window away from him but he got into the car and forced your head to look at him.

"That's not true, since the start of this wedding I've been working on getting your brother here in time," You frowned turning to look at him properly,

"What-"

"I know how much he means to you, so I've been working with him to get him here on time for the wedding, that's why I haven't been paying too much attention Jagiya, it was meant to be a surprise." He softly chuckled and you began tearing up at the thought of your brother coming to your wedding after him telling you he wouldn't be able to make it in time.

"Jimin I-"

"Sorry for going bridezilla on me?" You nodded and he chuckled kissing you and promising you that it was fine.

Taehyung:

"Y/n will walk down the aisle to the music and then we'll start the ceremony," The wedding planner said as she walked you down the centre of the aisle and up towards Taehyung who was standing at the alter laughing loudly with Jimin about something, you looked down at the floor as the wedding planner scoffed. Ever since she'd started planning with you she'd done nothing but mumble about how all of the boys were treating this as a joke, telling you it was wrong that they were laughing about everything when it was supposed to be a serious thing you were doing.

"What if we walked behind Y/n instead of her bridesmaids?! Make it special," Jimin jabbed but you lost it and snapped,

"Will you stop making this seem like a huge joke!? This is supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life and you've done nothing but laugh ever since you found out." You snapped at both Taehyung and Jimin who were now silent and staring at you as you broke.

"You're behaving like two immature children. Taehyung we get married tomorrow and you've done nothing serious all day...Don't you want this?!" You yelled dropping the fake flowers into the planner's hands as she stared at you,

"Y/n what kind of question is that, of course, I want this and I'm taking this seriously it's just- We're bored, it's not like it's the real thing tonight." The moment the words left his mouth he knew it was the wrong thing to say, Jimin moved away from him and even the wedding planner moved away from you.

"What?! You're bored? What happens tomorrow when you're bored? You're just going to start dancing up and down on the aisle?" He rushed over to you taking your hands in his and staring into your eyes, repeating your name over and over again until you finally stopped ranting about it all.

"What?" You whispered looking at him as he shook his head at you,

"No, I know how serious this is Jagi...I'm sorry...I was just- I have no excuses. I'm sorry, from now on we will be 100% serious about this," He kissed the top of your head reassuring you that he would be serious this time and you nodded your head, apologising for being such a drama queen and then going back to the top of the aisle.

Jungkook:

It seemed like every minor detail was going to send you over the brink of no return and you had no control over it whatsoever, what was supposed to be a small and intimate wedding was turning into a huge show for the cameras what wasn't what you or Jungkook wanted. You wanted something simple and small with family and friends around you,

"I thought you said small," Jungkook sighed as he read through the guest list in his hand, you looked up from the flowers you were looking through and frowned.

"I did, you were the one who invited all of those people." You whispered as you looked over at the guest list he was holding, one of your best friends was helping you organise everything so you wouldn't have to stress so much but in return, you were stressing twice as much.

"Y/n no I didn't, why would I invite this many people when I wanted a small wedding?"

"Maybe because you love the limelight?! Maybe because since the first day we decided to start planning you've done nothing to help me with any kind of decisions at all?! And now your guest list is large because you invited too many people you're going to blame it all on me?!" Yelling wasn't probably the best solution for this right now but you were beyond pissed off, Jungkook had done nothing to help with the wedding and you and Sooyoung had done nothing but organise it all yourselves since the moment it all started.

"What are you even talking about? I don't know half of these people," Jungkook was doing his best to remain calm. He'd spoken to the boys about how girls could get with weddings, turning into monsters when things didn't go their way and whatnot.

"Well, I don't know them either..." You were calmer now you realised that neither of you knew who was who on the guestlist except for the ones that you had invited.

"You don't think Sooyoung would-"

"Invite a bunch of her friends to your wedding? Yes, I do think she would." He mumbled looking at the piece of paper some more and then down at your seating chart. She was in charge of things like that because she insisted you just think about looking good for the wedding and making sure you were ready for your dance instead.

"I'll call her." You whispered looking from the paper and up into his eyes, now that you looked at it from day one it seemed like she was trying to make the wedding her own and take over everything. She was married herself and you knew she never got the wedding she'd always dreamed off when you were kids so maybe she was trying to live it out through you but it didn't excuse any of this at all.

"You scared me for a second, I thought you were going to turn into a real bridezilla," Jungkook chuckled coming up behind you and kissing your lips softly.

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