#and then LATER THAT SAME DAY THE INSTRUCTOR GOT A CALL SAYING HIS MOM DIED???

[hana-bobo-finch]

my absolute least favorite recurring anxieties are the ones like. If I think about something happening it’ll happen. Because then the few times whatever I thought about DOES end up happening I’m like “oh ok these thoughts are rational then!! I can’t think about things or they will happen!!” And then that just leads to a complete spiral of anxiety and aaaaaaghh

[lifeofclonewars]

Intro to the Extended Fett Clan (WKatMAM)

I’m doing this so I don’t have to take an unnecessarily long amount of time during Part 4 to explain the whole family to everyone. I get my second Covid shot tomorrow, so hopefully Chapter One will be up soon. Enjoy!

Clan Leaders

Nielsen Fett: Better known as 99 in canon, Nielsen goes by NiNi or ba’buir with his grandkids. He’s a farmer, and hosts the Annual Fett Family Reunion every year. Married to Kamino. Father to Lynx, Courey, Wolffe's mom (no, I'm not revealing her name yet), Alfred (Alph), Charisma, Arla, and Jango. Grandpa to all the kids who will be listed. 

Kamino Fett: I say screw the Kaminoans by naming the matriarch of this au after their home planet and making her love her family no matter what happens. She was a baker, passed away from old age two years before this au takes place. Used to have those grandma glasses-on-a-chain. Was blonde. Mother to Lynx, Courey, Wolffe's mom, Alph, Charisma, Arla, and Jango. Her grandkids call her KamKam or ba’buir.

Subclan One (aka some of the Commanders)

Lynx Fett: The oldest of the next generation of Fetts. He's a vet. Has a full goatee. Married to Nala Se. Father to Bly, Gree, Ponds, Keeli, Colt, and Zariza. Grandpa to Colette. More lax on his kids than his wife. Good dad, poor choice in women.

Nala Se: Geneticist (obviously lol). Very strict because "Lynx is too lax on their kids" (he's not). Mother to Bly, Gree, Ponds, Keeli, Colt, and Zariza. Grandma to Colette. Few people in the family actually like her.

Bly Secura-Fett: 27, Kindergarten teacher. Married to Aayla, father to Colette. Oldest of the next generation of Fetts/the cousins. You might recognize his username from the previous parts, Old Man Dad Bly. Ponds was the one to set it to that. Bly doesn't care enough about it negatively to switch it.

Aayla Secura-Fett: 26, Ryl Translator. Married to Bly, mother of Colette. Known for wearing her hair in braids. She's not in the cousin chat but Bly's constantly showing her screenshots of it and she enjoys it.

Colette Secura-Fett: Almost 1, a Blyla baby! So far clings to Bly more than Aayla, but that may change. Gets lots of love and snuggles from the extended fam.

Gree Fett: 25, biologist. Second oldest of the subclan and of the cousins. Still has that haircut but mainly out of spite of his brothers instead of in honor of them this time. Chat Name: Green Man.

Pontius “Ponds” Fett: 23. He’s working to be an architect, but is currently stuck with a job he’s over-qualified for in the meantime. Known in the chat as Lakes because he thinks he’s funny sometimes. Most likely to start something in subclan one, least likely to be blamed for it... most of the time.

Keeli Fett: 21, cosmetologist. He took a different route than his brothers and went to trade school instead of a 4-year university and consequently got a job before Ponds did. Best hair in the family. Debating whether or not Gree’s haircut is a good enough reason to disown him lol. Chat Name: Keeling Over.

Colt Fett: 17, just finished his junior year of high school. Working a minimum wage summer job to help save for college. Met his best friends Havoc and Blitz in kindergarten; they all work at the same place now. Chat Name: Neigh.

Zariza Fett: 15, just finished her freshman year of high school. Only daughter in the subclan, which is both a blessing and a curse with Nala for a mom. Wants to be a photographer, has taken pictures throughout the reunions the past few years for NiNi. Has lots of blackmail on everyone as a result. Chat Name: Zzzzzz.

Subclan Two (aka the Coruscant Guard)

Courey Fett: Second oldest of his generation of Fetts. He’s a bartender (and owner), and the loudest and most rambunctious of his siblings. Full beard. Married to Slyvia Fett. Father to Fox, Thorn, Jek, Rys, and Corsica. His name is vaguely based on me misspelling Coruscant many many times in the past.

Slyvia Fett: You thought Nala Se was an interesting choice in mom? This lady is a super successful but shady businesswoman. Nobody knows the specifics and they’re not sure they want to know. Also kinda strict, but she’s also not home often enough for it to make too much impact. Married to Courey, mother to Fox, Thorn, Jek, Rys, and Corsica. She has dirty blonde hair, which two of her kids inherited when it combined with the rare blond Fett gene. Vaguely based on Sly Moore.

Fox Fett: 19, just finished his freshman year of college. Perpetually tired because of homework, actual work, and the projects he choses to do. Two days older than Wolffe and reminds him often. Actually best friends with Wolffe. They go to the same university. Like Wolffe, loves his siblings but is loath to admit it. Causes more trouble than people think. Chat Name: Think Outside the Fox.

Thorn Fett: 16, just finished his sophomore year of high school. Older of the two dirty-blonds in the sub-clan. Second oldest blond of the cousins after Rex. Suspicious in how he’s so optimistic when he grew up with Fox for a brother haha. Occasionally likes to stir up trouble in the chat, especially since he’s the one who made it. Chat Name: Thorn in Your Side.

Jek Fett: 11, just finished fifth grade. His best friend is Thire. Too young for the chat, not too young to cause trouble. Like all little brothers, switches between ignoring Fox and Thorn and always trying to get their attention. Like all middle children, turns it around and also picks on Rys and Corsica for the same things Fox and Thorn use on him. 

Rys Fett: 8, just finished second grade. Current goal in life is to catch Fox sneak-attacking him just once. Tags along with Jek most of the time, sometimes to bug him, sometimes because he thinks he’s cool. Also too young for the chat.

Corsica Fett: 7, just finished first grade. Only daughter of subclan two. The second of the dirty blonde haired kids in this subclan. Hangs out with Unique a lot at family reunions. Has the art of bugging her brothers at the most inconvenient times down. Already learning to blackmail people. Name lightly based on the correct spelling of Coruscant. Also too young for chat.

The Koons (aka our MCs! The Wolfpack)

Plo Koon: My favorite space dad haha. I think you get the gist by now. Get ready for some more puns! Definitely the type of dad to wear a fanny pack. His sunglasses are probably just transition glasses that switch too easily and he just never told anyone lol. Actually, I never mentioned it, but he’s also a social worker.

A[redacted] Koon: Our boys’ mom. Married to Plo, though she died giving birth to Comet. Twin to Alfred. Her name is a surprise for later, so here’s her first initial, at least. Used to wear glasses or contacts, depending on the day.

Wolffe Koon: 19, just finished his freshman year of college. The star of the show lol aka our pov character. Loves his brothers but rarely admits it out loud. Best friend is Fox and is going to use that to his advantage for blackmail this reunion. Cousin Chat Name: Werewolf? There Wolffe! Subclan Chat Name: Howl are you? Wolfpack Chat Name: Grr.

Boost Koon: 15, just finished his freshman year of high school. The only person in the family who likes Gree’s haircut. His maroon hair is starting to grow out now. It may or may not be his turn to get lost this time... Chat Name: T-Mobile. Subclan Chat Name: Ghosty Boi. Wolfpack Chat Name: Booster Seat.

Sinker Koon: 13, just finished seventh grade and it shows. His silver hair is also starting to grow out. Gonna cause some chaos, since he’s close in age to many of the Fett cousins. Chat Name: Banana Sink. Subclan Chat Name: Hook, Line, and— Wolfpack Chat Name: Stinker. (No, it hasn’t been changed back yet.)

Comet Koon: 10, just finished fourth grade. Still obsessed with penguins. Also gonna cause some chaos with some of the cousins. Koon most likely to get hurt during the reunion by climbing on and jumping off things he shouldn’t. Also too young for the chat.

Subclan Three (aka Cody + the 501st)

Alfred “Alpha” Fett: Twin to A, younger by 5 minutes and never talks about it. Married to Sevannah. Father to Cody, Rex, Fives, Echo, Tup. Owns a gym named Triple A. Used to be a personal trainer, which is how he met Sevannah. Technically the middle child of his siblings.

Sevannah Fett: Professional and Olympic archer. Married to Alph, mother to Cody, Rex, Fives, Echo, Tup. Yes, her name comes from seventeen as in “Alpha-17.″ (Maybe not) surprisingly, the more in shape out of her and Alph since she’s still competing lol.

Kote “Cody” Fett: 18, just graduated high school. Planning on attending college for sports management. Twin to Rex (he’s older by 7 minutes). Got his scar while playing football or something, I’m not really sure. Any Ghost member you can think of is probably his friend. Chat Name: *hacker voice* I’m In.

Rex Fett: 18, just graduated high school. Planning on being an athletic trainer. Twin to Cody. Naturally blond — and I mean blond and not dirty blond. Only one of subclan three who is. Any member of Torrent that’s not his brother is his friend. Chat Name: Jurassic Park.

Fives Fett: 13, just finished seventh grade. His full name will be revealed during Part 4. Twin to Echo (older by five minutes, yes). Wants to learn how to be a skydiving instructor solely to try to help Rex get over his fear of heights. Best friends are Domino Squad. Chat Name: Sixes.

Echo Fett: 13, just finished seventh grade. His full name will also be revealed during Part 4. Twin to Fives. Seems more chill than Fives but the reunion always proves that wrong. Best friends are Domino. Occasionally babysits the Havocs. Chat Name: ECHO Echo echo.

Tup Fett: 10, just finished fourth grade. Tup is his full name, yes. Starting to get into archery like his mom. Canon tattoo is a mole here. His hair’s down to his shoulders and super curly. Cody’s often pulling sticks out of it. Too young for the chat.

The Havocs (aka the Bad Batch)

Charisma Havoc (neé Fett): Interior designer. Married to Gunner. Mother to Hunter, Cross, Wrecker, Timmy. Also on the louder end of her and her siblings. The Havocs are pretty background characters, since their kids are much younger than Wolffe and also bc the show’s still establishing things.

Gunner Havoc: Carpenter. Married to Charisma. Father to Hunter, Cross, Wrecker, Timmy. Together Charisma and Gunner could probably start an HGTV show lol. But they don’t want to so they aren’t. Last name comes from the Havoc Marauder (tbb's ship).

Hunter Havoc: 14, just finished eighth grade. Part of his canon tattoo is a birthmark, though not all of it. His hair is also long enough to be put into a small ponytail. Keeli’s got some cousins to teach, doesn’t he lol. Chat Name: Hunter-Gatherer.

Cross Havoc: 12, just finished sixth grade. Grumpy almost-teenager. Wolffe doesn’t run into him often because he tries to avoid his older cousins (well, actually, most of his cousins) the entire reunion every year. Lurks in the chat but his username is Mad (courtesy of Thorn). I shortened his name because it is an actual name and Crosshair is only a clone name.

Walter “Wrecker” Havoc: 9, just finished third grade. The older cousins claim he got his nickname in the “Wrecker Incident” and make it out to be this overly dramatic thing that's classified to those 12 and under. In all reality, it was him accidentally crashing into a few things of his brothers when he was first learning to walk. Gree just thought it was hilarious to blow it out of proportion. Too young for the chat.

Timothy “Timmy” Havoc: 7, just finished first grade. Wears glasses. A bit too young to have Tech as a nickname quite yet, but he definitely would in the future. Also mostly in the background, considering he's 12 years younger than Wolffe. Too young for chat.

The Concords (aka let's add some more girls to this family)

Arla Concord neé Fett: She's the only adult beside her husband that I currently don't have a job listed for, but that's because my brain won't supply one. Second youngest of her siblings. Married to Felix. Mother to Clementine, Ansonia, Unique, Majorca, Tessa, Violet. Screw canon/legends, she's still alive.

Felix Concord: Again, haven't thought of a job for him yet, but he has one. Married to Arla. Father to Clementine, Ansonia, Unique, Majorca, Tessa, Violet. Last name comes from Concord Dawn.

Clementine Concord: 12, just finished sixth grade. Wants to be an astronaut or astrophysicist one day. Spends lots of time wrangling her younger sisters. Chat Name: Orange Gal.

Ansonia Concord: 10, just finished fourth grade. Wants to be an actress, really bring those dramatic Fett genes into play lol. Spends lots of time bugging Clementine and bossing around her younger sisters. Too young for the chat.

Unique Concord: 7, just finished first grade. Wants to be a doctor, spends lots of time hanging out with Ansonia. The two of them could probably do a pretty accurate hospital soap opera without prompting or knowing haha. Hangs with Corsica a lot at reunions, though. Yeah, idk where her name came from either. Dirty-blonde hair. Too young for the chat (duh).

Majorca Concord: 6, just finished kindergarten. Still learning basic writing and loves it so much she wants to be an author. Named after the city in Spain on accident — I totally didn’t realize that was why her name seemed familiar until like 2 months after I named her. Also too young for the chat or to appear much in the story.

Quintessa “Tess/Tessa” Concord: 5, preschooler. The other blonde kiddo. Picks on Gree’s hair without prompting from any cousins or sisters. Likes to play pretend with Majorca when they can. Also likes to draw stars and castles and such often. Obviously too young for the chat, appears slightly more because of her natural roasting abilities. 

Violet Concord: 3, maybe a preschooler? Again, doesn’t really appear much. Hangs out a bit with Boba and Tessa when the family gets together. Very very obviously too young for the chat.

Subclan Four (the OG Fetts)

Jango Fett: People usually make him one of the dads or the grandpa, but nah, he gets baby of his generation status. I wanted to keep with the “Arla is his older sister” thing but she’s the second youngest so he’s the youngest. Has been super mysterious about his life from the second he moved out but still shows up to family events. Knows who Boba’s mother is but refuses to tell. Father of Boba (obviously).

Boba Fett: 4, preschooler. Like I said above, hangs with Tessa and Violet during family events. More likely to accidentally reveal details about Jango’s life than Jango. Surprise baby but not for Jango. Jango knew. The family didn’t know until Jango showed up with infant Boba to a family event and went “this is Boba, no questions will be answered.” Also very obviously too young for the chat.

---

And that’s the extended Fett clan! Feel free to ask questions, I’ve got plenty of information about (most of) them and their roles in this au.

[swanlake1998]

Article: Moving Over: A Powerhouse of Black Dance Is Retiring (Mostly)

Date: September 2, 2021

By: Charmaine Patricia Warren

Joan Myers Brown, the founder of Philadanco, is stepping back if not quite away from her duties. She still goes to the office every day.

Rushing to our Zoom interview from an in-person audition at the Philadanco studios, Joan Myers Brown opened the conversation by making me laugh. She asked for a reminder of what we were doing and then said, “What an honor, you want to talk about me — only thing I usually talk about is Philadanco.”

Myers Brown is the keeper of all things Black dance, and Philadanco (or, the Philadelphia Dance Company) is the troupe she founded in 1970. Now, after more than 50 years, she’s “moving over,” as she calls it, stepping back but not quite stepping away from the daily work of running the company.

At 89 (she turns 90 on Christmas Day), she is full of energy, and her memory is impeccable. Given the floor, she will share her love of dance, especially Black dance, for which she has been a champion and an institution builder.

True to her Philadelphia roots, in 1960 she founded the Philadelphia School of Dance Arts, for African American children; then Philadanco in 1970; in 1988, the International Conference of Black Dance Companies; and then in 1991, the International Association of Blacks in Dance (I.A.B.D.), which supports the Black dance community through gatherings, presentations, education and career guidance.

Of course, none of this existed when Myers Brown started studying ballet at 7 with Essie Marie Dorsey, whose school catered to Black children. (Dorsey, who passed for Spanish, had studied ballet with whites.) At 17, in the segregated 1940s, Myers Brown got the bug to become a ballerina from a white teacher, Virginia Lingenfelder, and was the first and only Black student in Lingenfelder’s ballet club.

Later, she studied at the Ballet Guild, where she was again the only Black student, and was spotted there by the British choreographer Antony Tudor, who invited her to take his class. “He was coming from England, so he didn’t have that American prejudice stuff,” Myers Brown said. “He taught me like I was the same as the others and not like an intruder.”

She never became a professional ballerina. “Other than Janet Collins, Blacks were not hired at that time,” she said, referring to the first African American prima ballerina with the Metropolitan Opera. But because of Tudor, Myers Brown performed in a community production of Michel Fokine’s “Les Sylphides” with the Ballet Guild and the Philadelphia Orchestra. At 19, Tudor encouraged her to move to New York; instead, she commuted to study with the dancer and anthropologist Katherine Dunham. “I would’ve been afraid to go to New York and live alone,” Myers Brown said.

She became a successful revue dancer and seized every opportunity to take class on her travels. “I read every book on ballet and dance, and then I chose to teach because I didn’t get the opportunities I wanted,” she said. “That’s when I started my school and tried to teach what I remembered.”

The Black dance community reveres her, and the world has been noticing. She was the subject of a 2011 book, “Joan Myers Brown and the Audacious Hope of the Black Ballerina,” by Brenda Dixon Gottschild. And in 2012, President Obama presented her with the National Medal of the Arts.

I met Myers Brown, or Aunt Joan as she is known to those close to her, when we were both instructors at Howard University in the early 1990s. Like me, those who’ve walked alongside her know that she is a powerful force, a leader who has set the tone for Black dance organizations to follow. And though Myers Brown is stepping back from her role at Philadanco, make no mistake: She still goes to the office, and is very involved.

When talking to Myers Brown, you bring your best because her presence demands it. She is always dressed to the nines, but her elegance is balanced by her lack of pretension and her quick, sometimes sharp, tongue.

“You didn’t ask me any questions,” she said near the end of our talk. I did, but they flowed organically because Aunt Joan made it so easy. 

Below are edited excerpts from our conversation.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: So, what made you decide it was time to step away?

Joan Myers Brown: Guess, just guess! I’ll be 90 years old. I have four dance companies, two dance schools and six grandkids. I’ve been working 15-hour days for 50 years, plus my school will be 60. I’ve given enough of my life to this, but I don’t own it.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: What do you mean you don’t own it?

Joan Myers Brown: Founder’s syndrome. After a while, the founder don’t mean anything because the company and organization have outgrown them.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: How are you feeling about moving over, as you call it?

Joan Myers Brown: I’ve settled on moving over, and I appointed Kim Bears-Bailey as artistic director. Now I have to let her know it’s OK to do what she thinks and let her make mistakes. But I need a managing director, someone who is committed to moving something other than their own aesthetic forward.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Kim was first at Philadanco, in 1981, as a dancer. Did she make an impression on you back then?

Joan Myers Brown: She did. She was one of those girls that I don’t think ballet companies would have liked. You know how they do us when we are Black and we just don’t look the part. She wanted it, and was willing to put forth the work, and I said, “Why don’t you audition for Ailey?” She said, “Everything I need is here.”

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Was there a search for an artistic director?

Joan Myers Brown: Not artistic, managing. I’ve had three white girls come into my organization with all the qualifications, but there was a sensitivity chip about Blackness missing. They have to think differently about how they treat Black people and know what we need. When I was looking for a development director, I hired a company of three ladies.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Are they Black?

Joan Myers Brown: No. White. I had to school them.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Does Kim run the school also?

Joan Myers Brown: Well, the school is not part of the company. The first 10 years the company was housed in the school, but when we purchased the building, we reversed the roles. The school pays rent to the company. I kept the school for profit so I would be guaranteed an income as a single parent.

You know, the String Theory School wants to build a new location, a charter school, and call it the Joan Myers Brown School of the Arts.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Wait, they’re naming a school after you?

Joan Myers Brown: Yes, and they want me to develop a curriculum, so I put Ali [Willingham, artistic director of Danco3] there because he teaches the way I like people to teach — know the craft, break down the movement, demand growth and not show off. Our youth are caught up in getting the applause and not learning the craft, so when I find the ones that really want to learn, they have someplace for classes and performing opportunities.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: The Black Lives Matter movement isn’t new to you, is it?

Joan Myers Brown: I experienced that in 1962, 1988 and 1995. Every time white folks in charge throw money out there and say, “Y’all got to help Black people,” they help us, but when the money’s gone, they’re gone. Have you noticed how every ad in Dance Magazine has a Black person? It’s like they are saying, “Look, I got one!”

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Did you envision I.A.B.D. conferences as a home base for the Black dance community?

Joan Myers Brown: You know, the first few conferences we were a mess, but we were happy to be together. Cleo [Parker Robinson] is from Denver; Jeraldyne [Blunden] was Dayton; Lula [Washington], Los Angeles; and Ann [Williams], from Dallas. And each time we learned something about our own organizations, about others doing the same thing, and how we can help each other. Mikki Shepard pulled us together, and people said we set the plate for DanceUSA. I was on the board of DanceUSA then. I said, “I got to get away from here and start my own thing because this ain’t helping Black people at all.” 

The younger members want to ignore the things we learned, and their opinions are valid, but I say experience teaches you something. I.A.B.D. was a gathering to bring us together and share stuff, now it’s a full-fledged service organization.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Do you miss the early gatherings?

Joan Myers Brown: It wasn’t like, “Girl, you got to come,” but more like, “let’s be together.” And when Jeraldyne died, we were a mess. Debbie [Blunden-Diggs] is stepping up to the plate now.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: The Philadanco family is huge, isn’t it?

Joan Myers Brown: We have a saying: You “gon” — without the “e” — but you’ll be back. A girl from my summer program told her mom, “I want to go back to Philadelphia because they give the training I need.” And her mother said, “I used to be in Philadanco 25 years ago, I’m going back with you.” She moved back, and I put her in charge of my minis.

I’ll give you another example: My first company was football players. I had no big boys in the school, saw them playing at my old high school and asked them to be in a show. They were more interested in the girls at first and refused to wear tights. I couldn’t pay them, but the Negro Trade Union Leadership Council was paying Black boys to learn trades. I told them to go in the morning, learn the trade, get that check, and then come for class at night, and they caught the bug. One of the boys owns a company and does my renovations now.

Everybody can’t teach or choreograph; I encourage all of my dancers to have a second career so that when you stop dancing you can do something else.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: What do you wish for?

Joan Myers Brown: Well, I’m wishing that people would understand that I need to shore up this organization. So, if I drop dead, the organization won’t be saying, “Aunt Joan ain’t here, what are we going to do?” I want them to say, “Do this, and take care of that.”

Charmaine Patricia Warren: You always have a Plan B, so what is it?

Joan Myers Brown: I like living alone. I like being single. I had three husbands, I’m fine. My Plan B is to do nothing, but I realized that people pay me to talk so I might do some more of that.

Charmaine Patricia Warren: Did I forget anything?

Joan Myers Brown: No. Well, yes, I do what I do because it needs to be done. And I believe in helping people that need help, and if they don’t pay back, it’s OK. The last thing I can say is that being Black in America is being Black in America, and it ain’t easy.

[venialsun]

to begin with, take warning (2/3)

[read on ao3]

1 | 2 | 3

When Damian found his way to his first class of the day, having missed something called homeroom and the first ten minutes, the instructor shook his head playfully and made Damian introduce himself and explain what he had done over the summer. He could not say he had spent the past few months traipsing across the globe, hanging out with killers and thieves, and dying more often than not as he tried to escape the oppressive feeling that had descended upon Gotham after years of tragedies and increasing catastrophes. So he said he spent some time with his mother’s family on their private island, which was close enough, took a seat at the back of the room, and listened to his classmates reconnect with old friends and talk about their vacations and holidays with an increasing sense of annoyance.

The rest of the morning classes were no better. The teachers would guide the students through introductions and some small talk, go through their syllabus, and sometimes begin a lesson that Damian was entirely bored by. A few of his classmates tried to speak with him, asking him questions about his family, about himself, and smiling welcomingly at him, but the last thing he wanted to do was talk about that can of worms. He was not sure what he would say, how to spin his life into something half-truthful yet still benign. He’d never had to before. The rest of the students ignored him, and he was more than happy to ignore them right back.

By lunchtime, he was contemplating leaving and telling his Father he was done with this whole experiment. But Yanez’s yellow slip burned in his pocket, and Damian was not one to give up so easily. He would make it through the day, if nothing else.

The technology atrium was between the main academic building and the arts auditorium. A squat addition to the main building with walls made of glass and supported by steel beams, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the dark slate stones and high neo-Gothic arches and spires of the rest of Gotham Academy. Damian glowered as he neared and realized this was not only the technology atrium but, according to the placard over the main entrance, the Kenneth H. Wayne Technology Atrium.

Of course.

Inside, rows of computers and long tables encircled a central desk where a young woman sat typing at a laptop. She looked up as Damian approached and asked, “What’s up?”

Damian fished out the yellow slip and showed it to her. “Principal Yanez assigned me community tutoring or whatever.”

She took the slip and scanned it. “Already? Dang, kid, what’d ya do?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say. Hold on. Let me pull her notes.” She busied herself clicking and scrolling, then paused. “Oh, wow. I see. Well, hi, Damian. Glad to have you. I’m Miss Daisy.” She handed him back the slip.

“Daisy?” he repeated, incredulous.

“Well, Miss Daskalakis, but I got tired of all you runts mispronouncing it.”

“Miss Daskalakis,” said Damian, exactly.

Daskalakis smiled. “That was pretty good, actually. Okay, in about ten minutes, we should have some of the PSAT and SAT kids show up for their first prep. Make yourself comfortable at one of the tables, eat some of your lunch, and when they show up I’ll introduce you and explain the rundown.”

“Lunch?”

“You brought something to eat, didn’t you? Or you can go pick something up at the cafeteria.” She glanced at her laptop. “There’s still time, and since it’s the first day, there’s no rush.”

Damian hesitated. “Principal Yanez said I was to report here.”

“We’re not going to make you skip lunch, Damian,” said Daskalakis. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. Here, what do you want?” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll message my assistant to bring you something. He should already be at the cafeteria.”

“Anything vegetarian,” he said.

Daskalakis gave him a thumbs up. “Got it.”

He went to sit at one of the long tables. Surreptitiously, he pulled out his phone to figure out what in the world the PSAT and SAT were supposed to be. He was puzzling his way through the most confusingly worded, backwards maths questions he had ever read, when the door opened. Damian glanced up and froze.

The red-headed boy at the entrance to the atrium also froze, eyes wide like he had seen a ghost.

“Colin!” called Daskalakis. “Hey, this is Damian. Thanks for grabbing lunch.”

“Colin,” Damian said.

“Damian,” said Colin Wilkes. “Oh, my god. Damian. Dude!”

“Do you two know each other?” asked Daskalakis.

“No,” said Damian, at the same time Colin said, “Yes.” Then Colin said, “No,” at the same time Damian said, “Yes.”

“Cool,” said Daskalakis, dragging out the oo. “Cool, cool, cool. Can you guys figure that out? We have, like, five minutes.”

Colin approached and deposited what looked like a rice dish with vegetables in front of him. “Um, this is for you. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I got you a taco bowl minus the taco.”

“Thanks,” said Damian, accepting the not-taco bowl.

“So.” Colin sat across from him. “Long time no see, huh.”

Damian snorted. “I’ve been busy,” he said.

“No shit. Your family has been freaking out for like the past six months, saying you’re missing and Robin went rogue or something. Then the old Robin came back. The Titans restarted. Then there’s video of another Robin sword-fighting crime all over the world. I assume that was you. Dude, I thought you were dead.”

“To be fair,” said Damian as he opened his taco bowl and mixed the ingredients, “I was. A couple of times. Doesn’t seem to stick.”

Colin laughed. “Your mom?”

Damian chuckled, startling himself. “Something like that. Though the first time was a few years back. I was—gone—for nearly a year, and my Father resurrected me with alien magic.”

“Sick. I remember that,” said Colin. “You dropped off the face of the earth. Didn’t come by the orphanage anymore or sneak out with me for patrols. People were saying Batman went crazy. I thought you just decided you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”

“I—” Damian spooned some rice into mouth. Chewed, swallowed. Colin looked at him throughout, unrelenting. “I didn’t ignore you deliberately. And then after I came back, things were so…”

Colin waved a hand and unwrapped a greasy slice of pizza. He took a bite. “It’s cool, man. You literally just told me you’ve died multiple times. Plural. I can get over my hurt feelings. Seems kind of trivial in comparison.”

Damian frowned and ate some more rice. Colin ate his pizza. Then Damian set his fork down, resolute, grip tight on the handle. As evenly as he could, he said, “I apologize for not being a better friend to you.”

“Whoa.” Colin’s eyebrows shot up. His expression pinched with worry as he searched Damian’s face. “What happened, man?”

Damian swallowed.

Then the door opened again, and an older boy—sixteen or seventeen—peaked inside and asked, “Is this SAT prep?”

“Sure is,” said Daskalakis from the central desk. She stood and indicated Damian and Colin to follow her. “Come in, come in, I’ll set you up right over here.”

Damian stood. “Later,” he said in an undertone. “I’ll explain later. I promise.”

“Okay,” Colin agreed. “But if you disappear on me again, this time I know where you go to school, so there’s no use hiding.”

“Have you known me to ever hide from anything?”

Colin smirked and said nothing.

Damian’s face felt suddenly warm. “Shut up,” he said. “We have work to do.”

•

Surprisingly, tutoring his fellow students was not the disaster he thought it would be. There was some initial skepticism from the upperclassmen about being tutored by a fourteen-year-old, but after Daskalakis declared him “a genius prodigy or something, according to Yanez,” that eventually quieted. It helped that though the PSAT and SAT problems and questions were simple enough, the wording and specificity grated on him, and soon he was insulting the intelligence of the College Board and standardized tests in general. That endeared him to the upperclassmen, and afterward the rest of the lunch hour passed without trouble.

Colin sidled up next to Damian as he gathered his materials to leave and showed him a crumpled-up piece of paper. “What’s your next class?” he asked. It was his schedule.

“Physical education,” said Damian. He had already memorized his own.

“Oh, really? Sweet. Me, too. We’ll go to PE together. I met Coach Freeman at the orientation. I think you’ll like her. What about after?”

Damian listed off his afternoon classes: physical education, then biology, then ancient rhetorics, and ending with a free study period. They shared no core classes, only homeroom, lunch, and physical education. Colin teased him for taking the honors track, and Damian started to complain that the classes were not interesting let alone challenging. But then he got sidetracked by wondering why Colin was somehow not in the honors track but still Daskalakis’s assistant for community tutoring (which, Damian insisted, was a dumb idea for punishments and an even dumber name). Colin laughed and explained he mostly helped with the younger kids. He said he was good with them, thanks to all the practice he’d had helping the nuns wrangle traumatized orphans and foster kids while growing up in the orphanage.

“After all that, spoiled rich kids are easy,” Colin said. He nudged Damian in the ribs. “It’s why we’re friends.”

“I thought that was because we both liked beating up on creeps a little too much,” said Damian, wry.

Colin grinned, and for a moment his face seemed to take on the grisly severity of Abuse—Venom-distorted and menacing. “That too.”

Physical education—“Just call it PE, dude,” Colin said—was a bore, more than Damian had anticipated. After changing into their gym uniforms and the requisite round of introductions, Coach Freeman set them on an obstacle course made up of rubber tires and colorful ropes. Damian was not impressed. But he remembered what his Father had said about damaging school property and refrained from destroying the so-called obstacles as he passed his struggling classmates and returned to Coach Freeman.

“What now?” he asked. To his frustration, he had hardly broken a sweat.

“Excuse me,” said Freeman. “Why aren’t you on the course?”

“I’ve finished it.”

“You’ve finished it?” Freeman checked the stopwatch hanging from her neck. “In slightly under six minutes? I don’t think so. Did you take a shortcut?”

“No,” said Damian. “It was easy.”

“Right. Well, if it was so easy, then hop to it. Do it again,” she said. “And this time, I’ll be watching you.”

“Weren’t you already supposed to be doing that?” asked Damian, but he did not argue further and restarted the course. It was better than doing nothing and standing around like an invalid, anyway.

This time he forced himself to go slower, aware he had done something abnormal. But it wasn’t his fault he was above this child’s play. He jogged the 100 meters to the start of course, climbed up the wooden incline, jumped down, belly-crawled under the mesh ropes, alternated jumps between tires then between wooden slats, climbed the rope to ring a bell, balanced across the too-wide beams, swung from bar to bar, and finished off by climbing over three wooden walls of increasing height. At the last wall, he paused and pulled a girl who had been struggling for the last two minutes up and over. Then he jumped down and high-fived Colin, who had finished his first runthrough. Going slower had forced him to focus the strain on his muscles, and the burn in his body and clarity of mind was starting to feel comforting and familiar.

He jogged back to Coach Freeman. “Shall I go again?”

She clicked her stopwatch and stared at it. Then she stared at him. “Slightly under eight minutes,” she said. “What’s your name, son?”

“I’m not your son.” He crossed his arms. “And name’s Damian. Damian Wayne.”

“Wayne, huh?” Freeman grinned. “Well, Mr. Wayne, Gotham Academy’s happy to have you. What’s your poison?”

“Pardon?”

“Your sport, Mr. Wayne. Your sport. Everyone’s got one. And if you don’t, not to worry. The Academy’s got a team for everything. You’ll be attending the end-of-day assembly, correct?”

“It is mandatory,” said Damian.

“Perfect,” said Freeman. “The main teams will be doing showcases there. Scope them out, see what you think. General tryouts are in two weeks, and I expect to see you there.”

Damian grimaced. “Do you now.”

Freeman nodded. “Sure do.” Then her attention drifted; her nose scrunched, she blew her whistle and screamed across the field, “You two, under the mesh! Keep your hands to yourselves! No one needs to see all that!”

•

The rest of the day passed quickly. He ran the course twice more, for the hell of it, alternating between pausing to help a classmate over a particularly difficult hurdle or shouting at them to hurry the hell up so Damian could finish already. He got used to the rhythm of it, the formula of general teacher attention interspersed with student social-play. By Ancient Rhetorics, he was an old hat at describing his incredibly fun island adventure halfway across the world and not scowling whenever anyone bemoaned their envy at the life of a rich socialite without responsibilities or true problems. He had even managed to hold a few short conversations with two or three of his classmates, though for the life of him he could not remember their names. A day of nothing but introductions had thoroughly fried his brain and prevented him from retaining anything more complicated than Jessica—because there did seem to be an awful lot of Jessicas.

His phone buzzed as the early bell rang and he merged into the streaming crowd of students heading for the auditorium for the back-to-school assembly.

It was a message from his Father:

Dinner tonight.

He frowned and tapped out a quick reply.

“Hey, Damian, over here!”

Damian looked up. Across the auditorium, Colin was surrounded by a group of teenagers and waving him over. Damian approached, pocketing his phone as he went. Then he paused and groaned when he recognized the small girl with yellow hair ribbons hovering excitedly between Colin and another group of older-looking students.

Fuck it. Damian ducked behind some large boys in jerseys and helmets—not hiding, per se, just utilizing his extensive array of evasive maneuvers to achieve a desired outcome—but it was too late. She had already spotted him.

“Oh my crap! Damian! You’re here?!”

Damian sighed and accepted his fate. With as much dignity as he had left, he emerged from behind the football team.

“Of course you two know each other,” he muttered.

“Huh?” said Colin.

“It is you!” exclaimed Maps Mizoguchi. “Olive, look who it is!”

From the group of older students, a girl with platinum blonde hair glanced over and, seeing Damian, scowled. “Oh,” said Olive Silverlock. “I did hear a Wayne was coming to Gotham Academy. Weren’t you expelled already?”

“You’ll find I’m hard to get rid of, Silverlock,” said Damian.

“Yanez is a softie, of course she let you back in,” continued Olive, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Hammerhead would’ve rather died.”

“You guys know each other?” asked Colin, looking concerned and glancing between them.

“No,” said Damian and Olive, at the same time Maps said, “Heck yeah! We’re all friends!”

“Doth mine ears deceive me? Did I hear Wayne—as in billionaire, more-money-than-I-would-know-what-to-with, bordering-on-unethical-wealth Wayne?” An older boy with sunglasses popped up behind Damian and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Good sir, might I interest you in—”

“Remove yourself from my person at once before I break your arm.”

The boy held up his hands and stepped away. “Got it, got it. No touchy. I can respect that,” he said. “So, Wayne, how do you feel about acquiring some fireworks for your own personal mischief?” He tilted his sunglasses down, conspiratorially. “At a discounted price, of course. Us trouble-makers have to stick together, y’know.”

“Quit it, Colton,” snapped Olive.

“Yeah,” laughed Colin. “That was Damian being nice.”

“You associate with these people?” Damian asked.

Colin shrugged. “I’m a part-time member of the Detectives Club.”

“Pizza club,” corrected Maps.

“The what.”

“Nerd club that solves school mysteries and shit,” said a girl from Colin’s group of younger students. She waved. “Hey, I’m Jess. Nice to meet you.”

Another fucking Jessica.

“Damian,” said Damian, putting up a hand in greeting.

This started another round of introductions and names he immediately deleted from his memory. Who knew Colin was so popular? It was the first day of school; he had not thought it was possible to align yourself with so many friends so quickly unless your name was Dick Grayson.

Slowly, both groups of younger and older students shuffled forward to their seats, helped along by the half-hearted encouragement of manic-looking adults. Somehow, Damian found himself squished between both groups, Colin on one side and Maps on another, as they chatted across him about summer and clubs and the teachers they already hated. Sensing an opportunity Damian told them of his run-in with Headmaster Hammer that morning, which triggered another round of commiserating laughter and louder complaints about what a hardass Hammerhead was—for they called the headmaster Hammerhead. Olive and Maps were the only ones to defend him, citing his one-man defense of the Academy when Joker had tried to take over the city two years ago.

“So?” said Damian. “Joker’s a bitch. He tries to take over the city all the time. That’s not impressive.”

By which a stuffy-looking blond boy in the row behind them became offended, scoffing, and Damian begrudgingly felt his respect grow for Colin’s friends as they immediately dog-piled on the boy for his shit opinion. Then no one could agree who of the Gotham rogues wasn’t a little bitch. And the argument devolved from there until Olive said Batman was a little bitch, too. Everyone laughed.

The lights dimmed. An off-key note rang out as the school band warmed up, and Headmaster Hammer and Principal Yanez stepped on stage.

Slowly in fits and starts, the auditorium quieted, and the assembly began.

next ->

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 5: “Thanks for lending me your jacket.” - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

A/N: Okay I understand Christmas is over but I still had to finish the 12 days of Christmas challenge and I skipped over day five and never came back till today! Here is day five written for my fellow Santi lover @itspdameronthings​. 

Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking! 

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Single Mom Reader 

Warning: 18 + for language, single mom, kids

My Masterlist 

Day 5: "Thanks for lending me your jacket." - Santiago 'Pope' Garcia

 The door to the ballet studio slams open, and Frankie hustles inside with his four-year-old daughter Mia in tow. The other moms all smile at him as he shuffles her off to the other children, and she gets in line and starts warm-ups. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and readjusts his hat falling down into the seat next to you. 

"What did I miss?" he asks, and you laugh. 

"Well, Minnie's mom was talking about how she caught her husband sleeping with the nanny. But, she isn't going to say anything because he had her sign a prenup, and she would get nothing. Oh, and Peter's mom has been talking nonstop about her upcoming surgery. Apparently, you lean toward him conspiratorially, "she is getting some new," you gesture across your chest, and he laughs. 

You and Frankie had met six months ago when you both enrolled your daughters in dance class. Being the only single parents and the only ones whose daily life wouldn't be on an episode of Wives of Orange County, you, two, had bonded instantly. You had even been out on a date, but it quickly became apparent you were just meant to be friends. Your daughters had connected instantly and become best friends. Mia and Harper were inseparable.

"What about Tina's mom? Did she get the nose job?" he asks, looking around the room, and you laugh. 

"I think so; it's their nanny again," you point over at the strict-looking woman reading a magazine in the corner, and he nods smiling. 

"So," he claps a hand over your leg, "Are we still on for the tree lighting thing this weekend? The kids perform at seven, so I thought we could all meet up for dinner at the Brewery down the street like five-fifteen or so." 

"Yeah, that sounds great! Harper is so excited about dancing for a crowd, she is turning out to be quite the diva." 

"I know what you mean; Mia is the same way! I was wondering...would you mind if Mia's godfather joins us on Saturday? He's in town from Columbia for the holiday and is going to be staying with us. I've been talking about you, and he says he wants to meet his replacement." 

"His replacement?"

"Oh, he is fully convinced that I've replaced him with you as my best friend," he chuckles. 

You laugh, and both of you get glares from the other dance moms. "That's fine with me. What's he like?" 

"Well...how do you describe Pope, well his name is Santiago, but I've been calling him Pope since the Delta Force days. He is loyal, hardworking, and a complete and total slut. I bet you fifty bucks he will flirt with you the whole night." 

You snort, "With me?" 

"Come on, you're gorgeous. Honestly, you are just his type."

"Yeah, all except for one little issue," you point towards your daughter, who smiles at your brightly as she tries to do a pirouette. 

"Oh, that won't deter him at all; he loves Mia. I'm sure Harper will have him wrapped around her finger too by the end of the night." He smiles at you, and you nod. 

"Okay, I guess I will have to meet this friend of yours and see if he's worthy of the title." Frankie looks at you, quizzically, "Oh sorry, the title of the best friend, it has to be earned." He laughs, and you both hush as the teacher looks at you both sternly, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles, Frankie digging his elbow into your side as he covers his smile with his hand. 

The week passes quickly, and it's the weekend before you know it. The Brewery's parking lot is packed, and a light dusting of snow lies upon the ground. You pull Harper from her car seat, and she babbles away at you about everything. The change in temperature from the outside to the inside is stifling, and you loosen your scarf, cursing under your breath about forgetting your coat. The red dress beneath it shimmers in the light, complete with black leggings tucked into your black boots. 

"HARPER!" a shrill voice screams from across the room. Your daughter takes off across the room and into the arms of Mia, who is jumping up and down. You smile at the two and make your way over to the table, hugging Frankie. 

"Where is this so-called best friend of yours?" you tease, moving into the booth across from him. 

"Oh, Pope went to the restroom; he should be back in a few minutes. Why? Excited to meet him?" he teases, and you smile. 

"No, just curious, I wonder if-" the words die against your lips as you watch the most beautiful man come towards your table. With salt and pepper curls, clean-shaven, soft juicy lips, and the darkest expressive brown eyes that twinkle in amusement wrapped up in a dark tan wrapping. 

"Holy shit," you whisper under your breath, but of course, Harper hears. 

"Mommy! Swear jar!" she sings, grinning at you, and you glare at her before watching the man slide in the empty chair across from you. 

"So this is the famous Y/N that Frankie won't stop talking about. I must say his words do not do you justice; you're stunning," he holds a hand out to shake, and when you touch, the electricity crackles, and you quickly withdraw your hand. 

His smile fades, and he just watches you. You could get lost in the depth of his eyes, and Frankie coughs loudly to break the tension. You look away and turn to Harper, figuring out what she wants for dinner. The waiter comes a few minutes later, and you all order. The girls get Mac N cheese and chicken nuggets, knowing them they will end up sharing all the food. 

"Uhm, I will take the jalapeno cream cheeseburger with the black bean patty, please, and the House Amber on draft please," the waiter takes your orders and walks off. 

You try really hard not to openly stare at Santiago, but he doesn't take notice, never taking his eyes off you. "So, tell me about yourself," you take a sip of your beer and finally look at him, his lips turned up into a wide grin. You spend most of the dinner conversing with Santiago while Frankie keeps the two girls occupied. You don't miss the not so subtle wink he sends your way as you almost choke on your beer. 

"Are you okay?" Frankie comes around and pats you hard on the back. "You're flirting," he teases quietly next to your ear, and you hiss at him to shut up, glaring. “You owe me fifty bucks,” he laughs. 

He grins triumphantly as he retakes his seat and checks his watch. "Okay, everybody, we got to get going over to the tree lighting. Girls, finish up and get your coats on. "I'll get the bill tonight." 

"Frankie! I can pay for myself-" 

"I insist," he says, putting a hand to his chest, "come on, girls. Ah, don't look at me like that; you can get the next one." Harper hugs you before grabbing Frankie's outstretched hand and going to pay. 

"Are you two dating?" Santiago asks bluntly. "Or fucking?" 

You laugh, "Uhm, no, Frankie really just is my best friend. We tried going on a date once, and it was like dating my brother." 

He chuckles, "yes, I can imagine that would be awkward. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, are you single?" 

"Why do you want to know," you rise and grab your purse, and he stands to offer his hand. You look at it and then back up to see the small smile on his face. Taking his hand, he intertwines your fingers and leads you outside. You look and see Frankie and the girls already halfway to the tree lighting, and you grin at Frankie's not so subtle matchmaking skills. 

"Looks like they left without us," Santiago laughs, tugging your hand into the crook of his elbow and taking off at a more leisurely pace. You shiver as light snowflakes begin to fall. Cascading the area into a winter wonderland. He stops walking and shrugs out of his thick overcoat, and hands it to you. 

"I can't take your coat," you try to refuse, but he grabs your arm and puts it on you like you would your daughter. "I…" the argument dies on your lips as he gives you a playful glare. "Thanks for lending me your jacket." 

"Now, you're just going to have to keep me warm." You laugh together, and he retakes your hand and intertwines your fingers. "So about what I said earlier? Are you seeing anyone?" 

"Would I be holding hands and flirting with you all night if I was? Do you think I'm that type of woman?" He quickly throws his hands up and shakes his head no. 

"No, no, that's not...I just, shit, I am fucking this up, aren't I?" 

"No," you chuckle, "But I'm having fun watching you try. Frankie told me you were a huge flirt, and I should watch out for you. I like what I have seen so far, and you are incredibly handsome with a nice butt. So yes, I am single. Now, what are you going to do about it." 

You both arrive at the tree lighting and look for Frankie, who waves you over near the doorway to the community center. He smiles at you, both seeing your hands intertwined and raising one eyebrow. "The girls are with their instructor there going to go on in about ten minutes. Also, remember that Frankie is the perfect name for a boy." 

Santiago punches him in the arm, and Frankie laughs. "Shut up, Frankie," you scoff. "I'm going to go get some hot chocolate inside. Do you want anything?" 

"I'll come with you," Santi follows close, still holding your hand as you wait inside for hot cocoa and cookies. "You asked me what am I am going to do about it?" 

You nod, looking at him, "Yeah, and did you decide?" You take a step forward as the line moves. 

"Yes, right about now," he dips you, and you give a little yelp as he plants his lips onto yours. His lips are warm and soft, and you melt into the kiss as the small crowd cheers around you. When he brings you back up, you feel lightheaded and swoon a little, but he catches you laughing. "Sorry, the moment was just too perfect," he points up, and you smile at the mistletoe hanging overhead. 

"Well, wouldn't want to waste perfectly good mistletoe," you kiss him again, and he responds. Running his hands over your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening it. 

"Excuse me? Are you still in line for hot chocolate?" An older man taps Santi's shoulder, and you break away giggling, burying your face in his neck. 

"No, sir, I think we're going to skip the hot chocolate; I got something sweeter right here." 

The older man blushes before moving around you, and you both burst out laughing before he kisses you again. The emcee from outside begins the program, and you shout, running and dragging Santi behind you. Frankie looks at you both and just shakes his head laughing. "What's so funny?" you ask. 

"Nothing, I just never realized that red was your color, Pope," he teases, and you look at Santi, shocked before you laugh and quickly grab a wipe from your purse and wipe it off. You wipe off your own lipstick, and both men watch, amused. 

"What now?" you huff. 

"Why are you wiping off your own lipstick?" Frankie questions smiling.

"Oh, I am kissing him a lot more before this night is over. The last thing I need is the Spanish Inquisition from my daughter about why the nice man from the restaurant is wearing my lipstick." Santiago's lips turn up into a smile before he kisses you again, and you pull back smiling at Frankie, who has his mouth agape. 

"I am really looking forward to kissing you more, but can I also take you out for dinner tomorrow night? Maybe Frankie can watch Harper?" Frankie nods, agreeing with the plan. 

You kiss him again as the ballet music starts, "I would really love that." 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @heythere-mel​ @justanotherblonde23​ @artsymaddie​ @anetteaneta​ @lunarthoughts​ @aellynera​ @lucifer-​ @houseofthirst​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @chicken-ona-stick​ @josepedropascal​ @letoartreiides�� @revolution-starter​

[grimmjowkurosakidrake]

Hermoso

Summary: For the @soulmatebingo “Phrase in native language” 

Keith gets the word “Hermoso" tattooed on his throat. Lance, instead, gets the word “Idiot” tattooed at the back of his neck.

Length: 2347 words

Relationships: Lance (Voltron)/Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) & Shiro (Voltron)

Warnings: Implied depression, implied low self esteem issues

Also, just a quick reminder that you can commission me at @witcheswritings

Keith is thirteen on his fourth day at the Garrison when the word «Hermoso» writes itself deeply into his throat.

He doesn’t know when it happens exactly, one day he’s mark-less and then suddenly he’s seeing the bold, cursive letters, written there, glaring back at him from the mirror in the boys’ bathroom when he’s done washing his hands.

There’s no way he can hide this, it’s the first thing that comes into his mind when he sees it. Small hands tracing the words with slow, hesitant touches. 

It’s almost like his soulmate wants everyone to see these words, to know that he’s... hermoso, whatever that means. 

Keith is not so eager for the world to see these words, however.

He would have to wear high collars or scarfs for the rest of his life if he ever thought about covering this mark. But even when there’s no need for him to try and conceal it, as the school doesn’t have any rules against soulmate tattoos, he still feels the need to hide it from the everyone around him.

There’s someone out there now, his soulmate, who’s noticed him or met him for the first time and those thoughts are now tattooed into his throat.

A deep blush travels from his face to his collarbones at the idea. His soulmate is somewhere around the Garrison, and these foreign words are their first thoughts about him.

“Hermoso.” He tries to say with great difficulty, not really sure in how to roll the r in between the word. It ends up sounding awkward and he wonders if his soulmate will teach him how to say it, someday.

Will his soulmate reach out to him? 

A part of him wants them to, another part it’s almost afraid.

☰☰

Shiro smiles when he sees the mark on his throat, the older boy engulfs him in a warm hug, honestly happy for him. “My Spanish may be a little rusty.” Admits Shiro, kissing the top of Keith’s head even against the boy’s loud protests. “But I’m almost sure it means beautiful.”

The Garrison’s junior officer looks directly into his eyes as he says this.

“That can’t be” Mumbles Keith, rising the high collar of his uniform up at his chin. Beautiful is what you call flowers, butterflies, and pretty girls. It’s how his father used to talk about Keith’s mom.

“I don’t think I’m wrong.” Shiro smiles indulgently, opening the zipper of his jacket until his tattoo is clearly visible. “I think your soulmate thinks you’re beautiful and that’s fine.” He states. “That is exactly how love is supposed to be.”

“Do you have a mark?” Asks Keith, his little hands wrapping around his throat almost on instinct.

“Yes.” Answers Shiro, lifting the sleeves of his jacket, there, on his wrist the words «Cute Smile» sit comfortable like they belong. 

He does have a cute smile, it’s bright and reassuring all the same. The smile of a true leader.

Keith smiles hesitantly. “It’s true.” He admits, Shiro’s smile makes him feel right at home, safe, like there’s nothing wrong in the world even when everything clearly is.

“Then maybe you can be beautiful.” Counters the officer, tapping the top of his nose. “Your soulmate surely thinks so.”

☰☰

Lance is thirteen when he enters the academy; He’s away from his family, he’s miles away from the sea and he’s afraid that he will never make friends with anyone.

But he can feel the space at the tips of his fingers now, his dreams are closer to him now and even if he’s not the space hero protagonist he imagined he’d become as soon as he entered the academy, he knows this is a step closer to his future as pilot.

Four days into the academy, they do weapon training.

It’s a safe begginer’s practice for the most part; they start with blunt weapons as their instructor coldly tells them that there’s no way they can hurt themselves with them, that these weapons are harmless.

Lance can’t help but think that he’s lying, after all, weapons are weapons, specially under the wrong hands. 

But he stays silent.

The people at the Garrison obviously want them to get started on safe battle grounds because more than anything, they will be soldiers.

It should be easy, they give them blunt weapons of choice, ranging from brass knuckles to even one big maze that only someone like Hunk should handle at their age.

“You’ll face robots and drones alike; they wont hurt you but they will charge at you, robots are one pointers, drones...” Explains one of his teachers, pointing at the top of the high ceiling where four drones are flying high about them. “Are two pointers. Try and take them on.” He taunts them.

It’s a lot of fun, for the most part. He’s not good with any of the weapons, not even the Bō -Staff, truth is, no one is. But all of them have fun trying, building camaraderie in their failure.

Because they all fail, until Keith.

The boys destroys three big robots with the Bō -Staff just three minutes after his time starts; using its weight and material to his advantage, he’s not superhuman by any means but he’s smart.

Then, he takes the Sai swords.

Without breaking a sweat, the boy runs towards the destroyed robots to propel himself to the high ceiling of the gymnasium at the Garrison, the swords twirling between his fingers before hitting the first drone, then, he uses the momentum to fall into the second drone and hit it too, it’s ridiculous. 

The difference in between Keith and the rest of them is enormous.

Around him, all of their classmates are glaring at Keith. There’s nothing wrong if they all fail, that means they need more training.

But if one of them passes in the way Keith is passing, then it means the rest of the class is behind. They’re jealous, bitter.

But Lance can’t help but think:

Él es hermoso, la forma en que se mueve, ágil y mortal. Como una pantera acechando a su presa.

It’s the first time he thinks of the boy. But it surely won’t be the last.

Keith is larger than life, a beautiful monster, oblivious to the world around him; even Lance. 

With time, everything he does, is with Keith on his thoughts. Maybe if he gets stronger, he will be at Keith’s level, maybe they will become partners, fighting and flying shoulder to shoulder.

Reaching the stars side by side.

Keith never notices him, or so he thinks, but a week into the Garrison, Lace gets his mark. The word «Idiot» tattooed into the back of his neck, forever.

But he doesn’t notice it until Hunk points it out when they’re changing clothes after gym hours.

“Lance!” He screams exited. “You got your mark!” Probably not even thinking about what  those words say.

Hunk has always been a romantic, in love with love, never thinking about how cruel it can be.

“Really?” Asks Lance just as exited. “What does it say?”

“Oh…” Whispers Hunk, his voice audibly less chipper.

“What?” Insists Lance. “C’mon, Hunk. Don’t put me on edge, big boy.”

“Idiot.” He finally says. “It says idiot.”

“Oh…” Mimics Lance, his voice disappointed but not actually surprised.

A few days later, just at the start of summer, he sees Keith’s mark for the first time.

☰☰

When he tells his family they try to lighten the mood. “Oh, honey.” Laughs his mom through the screen when he video-chats them about it. “Pobrecita tiene que haberte visto hacer alguna tontería.”

Lance chuckles “Pobrecito, mamá.” He corrects her, “my soulmate is a boy, you know.”

At his words, his mom brightens. “Oh!” She exclaims, “You know who he is!”

“Yes.” Responds Lance with a grimace marring his face. “He’s beautiful.”

His mother is happy for him; in fact, his whole family is. But Lance can’t help but feel resentful. This is what Keith thinks of him, his first impression of Lance and he thinks he’s an idiot.

They’ve never exchanged words, never even fought. How stupid can he be if that’s the first thought a complete estranger has of him?

He doesn’t tell Keith that they’re soulmates, he won’t force the bright, beautiful future prodigy of the Garrison to stuck with a stupid cargo pilot.

Then Keith drops out of the Garrison and he doesn’t have to pretend. Without Keith there, Lance doesn’t have to pretend that he’s not in love.

☰☰

When they meet again he notices that Keith no longer hides his mark, now, instead of the high collars and tight shirts at his neck, he wears a black shirt with a deep v neck, showing off both his throat and his collarbones.

“It means beautiful.” He supplies one day, boldly tracing the words on his soulmate’s throat. They’re sitting on Lance’s bed in his room at the castle.

 Besides Shiro, Keith has only been comfortable with Lance touching him, after so many physical fights and training together maybe he no longer minds having the cuban boy near him.

Without thinking, Lace’s hand reaches out to the back of his own neck. “I thought you were beautiful, back then.” He confesses. “Beautiful and deadly, like a panther.” Clarifies the brunette, chuckling “I guess I wasn’t wrong, mister red lion.”

“What does your mark says?” Asks the red paladin, hesitant. He knows that Lance has a mark, he probably already knows the obvious, rhat Lace and him are soulmates.

“You don’t remember?” He asks, his voice small, insecure.

Keith puts his legs over Lance’s own, resting his head on his shoulder. “My dad died a year before I entered the Garrison.” He articulates as if it explained anything. “Two months later I met Shiro and he encouraged me to apply.” His is voice small, barely a whisper. “He gave me a reason to keep on going. Suddenly I had a meaning, I was good at flying and at fighting, a natural soldier, but...” He pauses. “I wasn’t happy.”

“Keith…” Tries Lance, not really knowing what to say. 

Keith is not really explaining anything but his words are having an impact on Lance anyway. No matter the words tattooed on their skin, even if they weren’t soulmates, Lance knows that he loves the other boy and he would never want him to be unhappy.

Keith interrupts him before he can even voice his thoughts. “I don’t remember when, but you got yourself caught in a rope one day. You were on the ground, just a mess of limbs and rope and I laughed.” He smiles. “I laughed so hard that I cried a little.”

“Glad to be of service.” Mutters Lance, tangling long fingers on Keith’s unruly hair.

“I thought you were an idiot, such an idiot.” Keith whispers, moving into his lap, trying to get as close to Lance as possible. “And I laughed for the first since my father died.” He pauses for a moment, looking up to Lance, trying to gauge his reaction to his words. Lance smiles down at his soulmate. “It was the first thing I thought about you but it wasn’t the last.” He rushes. “I swear.”

“Yeah?” Asks Lance with a goofy grin painted on his face as he carefully removes a rebellious lock of dark hair from Keith’s face.

“You were always around people, always happy.” Smiles Keith. “I wish your mark was different.” He confesses. “You’re funny, you’re brave, you’re tenacious.” Keith pauses for a moment, just to take Lance’s hand with his own. “You make me happy.”

“I’m suddenly fine with my mark if this s what you make of it.” Jokes Lance, even when he knows that he’s lying.

The reality it’s that he’s never going to forget the disappointment and the resentment. He has spent at least four years of his time at the Garrison thinking that his soulmate thought him nothing but an idiot and for some time, he tried to convince himself that Keith was right.

“I hope that’s not true.” Argues Keith. “I’m sorry about your mark.” He apologies. “Especially when my mark is…” He chokes, holding his throat like a lifeline. “Especially when mine is the best thing that could even happen to me.”

“It’s not fine.” Lance confesses. “I really wish it was fine, that I could feel proud of my mark like you do.”

“I’m sorry.” Apologies Keith once again, his face contorting in anguish.

“But it doesn’t mean that what I felt about you has changed. It doesn’t mean that you’re not my soulmate or that I wish you weren’t my soulmate.” He continues, holding onto Keith’s hips and drawing the other boy closer to him.

In this position they’re almost the same height, chest to chest with Keith being a head taller than him for the first time ever. Lance doesn’t mind. No with Keith’s legs straddling him like this.

“I want to make it up to you.” Whispers the red paladin over his lips like a promise.

“You don’t have to.” Answers Lance, his mouth barely touching Keith’s.

Keith doesn’t answer, instead, he closes the gap in between, his lips closing around Lance’s own lower lip with a conteted sigh.

Both boys moan together as they kiss, they’ve been waiting for this moment, building up the tension and the attraction until neither of them could take it anymore.

With a sigh, Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s neck, his fingertips caressing the words hidden at the back of his neck. “You really make me happy.” He murmurs, kissing his soulmate again, the tip of his tongue seeking entrance shyly.

Lance smirks and opens his mouth, his own tongue meeting Keith’s before closing his lips over Keith’s lips. His hands sneaking under the shorter boy’s shirt, feeling the warm skin there.

“You make me happy, too, beautiful.” He whispers, settling a warm, kiss under his soulmate’s jawbone. “Realmente me haces feliz, hermoso.”

Keith sighs, his whole body falling into Lance’s arms, content there.

Safe.

[bunnybunnyangel]

1-Knitting

“Where’s Red Hood?” Nightwing asked as he landed on the roof of the building and looked over at the rest of the batfam.

    “He’s not coming.” Batman said as he crossed his arms and looked at Nightwing,

    “You’re late by the way.”

    “I know. I ran into some guys robbing a gas station.”

    “Hn”

    “Good talk B.” Nightwing chuckled and walked towards his brothers.

    “Good afternoon baby birdies.”

    “Hey, Dick.

    “Do you know where Jason is?”

    “He said he was taking the night off and that Bruce can fuck off.”

    “That gives me an idea!” Nightwing beamed at his siblings and then ran over to Bruce,

    “Hey! B! If Red Hood can take the night off then we should go visit him!”

    “No.”

    “Come on Bruce. You know how Jason gets when he’s alone.” Tim said as he leaned on his bo staff,

    “No. We have patrol.”

    “Father. We should go see Todd.”

    “Yeah B!” Stephanie said as she bounced up and down. Cass smiled and stood silently behind Steph. Bruce looked at each of his kids and sighed. He knew when he was outnumbered and when he lost. Because when it comes to his kids he really couldn’t tell them no. So away they went to Jason’s apartment. Somehow halfway there Dick and Steph turned it into a race, Dick won of course.

    “Soooo front door or window?”

    “The front door is for normal people.” Dick said with a smile.

    “Window it is.” Tim said as he pried the window to Jason’s apartment.

    “....Do you hear music?”

    “Jason’s listening to music.”

The family slowly crept into the apartment. Only one light was on and that was to the living room. They walked towards the living room and they each froze. Jason was sitting in a rocking chair humming along to the soft music that was playing through the radio with knitting needles. Was he knitting a sweater, oh my god he was. Dick put his hand on the wall but ended up knocking something off the wall. Jason jumped off of the rocking chair and looked behind him. Damian and Tim both covered their mouths to not laugh. Jason was wearing a fluffy pink sweater with a cartoonish red bat. 

Jason’s face turned a very bright red,

    “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!”

    “We came to visit you. Oh my god, you’re adorable in that!”

    “Please stop.” Jason sighed and looked away. Stephanie squealed as she grabbed something out of a basket.

    “It has my name on it!” Jason looked over to Stephanie and sighed.

    “I made it for you. I uh..made everyone something.” As soon as those words left his mouth Steph grabbed the basket and dumped everything on the floor,

    “Oh come on Steph!” She gave everyone whatever had their names on it. Dick had a pair of black and blue gloves, Damian had a green scarf that had the Wayne family crest, Tim had a red and black hat, Cass had a hat with tiny bat ears.

    “Aww, Jay! Where did you learn how to knit anyway?”

    “When I was in France with the league I met an old woman who didn’t have any family willing to visit her. So I stayed with her when I was able too. We talked and she should me how to knit. She said I was the best grandson she knew. She uh..died shortly after. So whenever I’m missing her I knit.”

    “I’m sorry Jason.”

    “Jaylad…”

    “I-It’s ok. I swear it is.” He was tackled by all of his family in a giant hug.

    “Guys...can’t...breath..” They let go of him slowly.

    “So. Got any stories about the lady?”

    “Cecile Bisset. She was the sweetest old lady.”  That whole night was full of Jason telling stories about Cecile and knitting a sweater. Once the sweater was done he handed it to Bruce.

    “There you are.” Bruce stared at the sweater and smiled. It was black with pink cuffs and had “Best Bat Dad” on it.

    “Happy early father’s day.”Bruce sat the sweater to the side and hugged Jason.

    “I love you son.”

    “Love you too dad.”

   

2-Horse Back riding

    “Soo. Jason ran off.” Bruce sighed loudly as he turned the chair to look at his kids.

    “Why?” Dick shrugged at Bruce’s response.

    “I don’t know. He said he needed to leave Gotham for a bit.” Bruce sighed again and grabbed his phone. He went into his contacts and called Clark.

    “Clark. Is Jason either over at your place or coming over?.... We’ll come by in about an hour.” Bruce sat his phone on the batcomputers desk.

    “He’s at Clark’s?” Tim asked as he sat down in his swivel office chair and spun himself around

    “He’s at the Kent’s place in Smallville.” Tim stopped spinning in the chair and looked at Bruce,

    “Why’s he at the Kent’s?”

    “I don’t know. But we are going to go see.”

    “Cool. Let’s follow the Red Hood and see what he does on the weekend.” Damian said as he looked over at Stephanie who was standing on the t-rex’s head as she played with the stuffed knitted bear that Jason made for her.

    “He knits on the weekends Dami!” She said with a smile.

    “Steph get off the t-rex.”

    “Sure B.”

    “So...shall we go get our wayward birdy?” Dick smiled as he looked around at his family, Tim sighed loudly and got off his chair.

    “Fine.” Dick rolled his eyes while Bruce tried not to smack his face with his palm.

    It took them twenty minutes to get on the road and towards Smallville. Bruce really needed to talk to Jason about running off without telling them. They worry about Jason, they’re scared he’ll get hurt while they aren’t there with him. When they reach the Kent’s farm, Clark was waiting for them outside the farmhouse. He smiled at the Wayne’s.

    “Hey, guys! How was the drive over?”

    “Where’s Jason?” Bruce ignored the question, he only wanted to see his son. Clark smiled,

    “He’s in the back with Ma and Pa. Come on.” He seemed eager to show them something. And when they got to the back they realized why. Jason was riding in a circle with a beautiful black horse. They could see a bright smile on his face. Ma Kent walked over to them and offered them some lemonade.

    “Good to see you boys again.” She smiled at them.

    “I didn’t know Jason could ride horses.”

    “He’s really good at it. Cause he can’t really take the horses to Gotham he keeps them here. Thanks, Ma.” Clark said as he took a glass of lemonade from his mom. Jason noticed them and smiled at them, he pulled on the horse’s reins making the horse stop. He got off the horse and handed the reins to Pa Kent who gladly took it. Jason walked over to them and crossed his arms with a playful smile.

    “What’s going on guys?”

    “You can ride horses too?”

    “Yep.”

    “Let me guess, someone taught you when you were traveling?”

    “Oh yeah. I stayed with a nice family in Mongolia. They taught me how to ride horses. They also showed me how to shear sheep.”

    “Jesus Jason. Anything else you can do that we don’t know?”

    “Eh probably. But I’ll let you figure it out later.” Jason said as he put his hands in his pocket. Damian was staring at the horse with wide eyes,

    “What’s his name?”

    “Shade.”

    “I love him.”

    “I know you do Dami.”

    “Father-”

    “No Damian.”

    “TT.”

The Waynes joined the Kent’s for dinner that night, when they finished dinner the Waynes headed to the car.

    “How did you get here Jay?” Tim asked as he opened the car door.

    “My bike.”

    “You wanna come with us? It’s late.”

    “I’ll be fine dad. I’ll see you guys at the manor?” Bruce nodded

    “Oh yeah. We still gotta do movie tonight.”

    “Damn. I forgot about that.”

    3-Hair Braiding

    “Ow! Dick be careful!” Stephanie winced as Dick pulled her hair.

    “Sorry, Steph! I’m not really good at braiding.”

    “You don’t say.”

Jason watched them from the doorway fixing his tie.

    “Move out of the way Dickie.” Jason all but pushed Dick away from Steph,

    “What are you doing Jay?” Stephanie asked Jason as he gathered the middle of her hair,

    “Your hair has bee brushed right?”

    “Of course.”

    “Good.”  Jason split the hair into three sections and crossed the right section under the middle one. He took a thin section of her hair and added it to the right section before crossing it under the middle one. He did the same thing with the left side and kept doing it until he reached the nape of Steph’s neck, when he got to her nape he did a standard braid and loosened the outer strands of the braid to make it seem fuller.

    “There.” Jason took a step back and looked at his work with a proud smile.

    “Oh my god! I love it!” Steph squealed happily as she turned and wrapped her arms around Jason in a hug.

    “Let me guess...traveling?” Dick said with a smirk. Jason laughed

    “Oh yeah. I stayed with a woman in the Netherlands who really liked to braid hair, she should me how to do it.”

    “Thank you so much, Jay!”

    “I’m glad you do Steph. I gotta finish getting ready for the Gala.” He turned around and walked out of the room leaving Steph and Dick to talk about her hairstyle.

    4-Makeup

Jason headed to his room after he left Steph and Dick when he overheard Tim and Cass,

    “I’m sorry Cass, I’m not really good at makeup that’s not...cover up.” Jason looked in Cass’s room. Cass was sitting in front of her vanity mirror while Tim was brushing her hair. Cass pouted a bit.

    “Need help with some make-up Cassy?” Tim and Cass looked over at Jason,

    “Yes.”

    “What look were you hoping for?” She pointed to a picture in a magazine. Red and yellow mixed eyeshadow, butterfly looking hairclips, and matte pink lipstick. Jason nodded and got to work. He blended the red and yellow eyeshadow in the middle to make it orange, he used eyeliner and mascara. Once he finished her eye makeup he put her matte pink lipstick,

    “And you’re done.” Cass smiled at the reflection and then hugged Jason,

    “Thank you.”

    “No problem Cassy.”

    “I’m not even gonna ask where you picked that up.”

    “Believe it or not. Talia showed me how to do makeup.”

    “I don’t believe it.” Tim said as he grabbed his suit jacket off of Cass’s dresser,

    “So, you ready for the Gala Jay?”

    “I guess.” With that, the three siblings walked downstairs to meet their dad for the Gala.

    5-Belly Dancing

Dick really never expected to find Jason in the dance studio as an instructor. A Belly Dancing instructor. Dick, Cass, Steph, Tim, and Damian watched from the class door watching as Jason told the class what they were going to do.

    “Firstly we are going to make a big outer hip circle.” He said as he moved his hips in a big circle,

    “Our pelvic region is gonna stay in neutral, as we push and shift our weight from toes, heels, and the edges of our feet. As you can see I’m pushing my hips in a nice big counter-clockwise circle and making sure I keep it all equal. How far I go forward is how far I go backward. It probably won’t come naturally to any of you, but why not give it a try.” Jason watched the class as they tried to copy Jason.

    “Heather, don’t sway your hips like that. Keep it natural not club dancing. Good job Keira. A tip is to try and keep your pant line even with the floor. Don’t tip a hip up. Keep your spine straight guys. Don’t bend and don’t go so big you lose your balance.” He said as he kept making his hips go in a circle.

    “....I think we should leave Jason to his class.”

    “...I’m having him teach me this.”

    “Dick no.”

    “Dick yes.” Tim grabbed Dicks’s ear and the siblings walked out of the dance studio and away from Jason. Tim needed bleach in his eyes to get rid of the image of Jason moving his hips like that. It was not something he ever wanted to see. From Damian’s reaction, he agrees with Tim.

+1-The family surprises him

Jason yawned as he made his way up to the main door to the manor, he didn’t bother to knock. He just pushed opened the door, he took one step in and saw his family all trying to belly dance.

    “What in the..”

    “Ah, Master Jason. Would you like some tea?” Alfred walked up to him with a tray of tea

    “W..what’s going on?” Jason asked as he looked in horror as Bruce tried to sway his hips,

    “It seems Master Dick wanted the family night to be used to learn Belly Dancing.”

    “...Can I go to the kitchen...I don’t need to see Bruce swaying his hips anymore…”

    “Of course.” Jason walked into the kitchen, for the second time that night he froze. Talia and Selina were sitting at the table drinking coffee and talking. Like friends.

    “He came from nowhere and said ‘I’m Batman.’ Like it was supposed to mean something to me at the time.” Selina said as she took a sip of her coffee. Talia laughed and looked over at Jason.

    “Habibi, come sit with us.” Jason smiled and walked over to the table and sat with the two women.

    “So, we’re talking shit about Bruce?”

    “Of course we are.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Girl Next Door (Part 11) - Starry Night

Summary: Dean takes the reader out on a surprise date...

The Girl Next Door Masterlist

Pairing: Neighbor/Mechanic!Dean x baker!reader

Word Count: 5,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Enjoy!

Reader’s POV

You woke up warm, a blanket half draped over you. Fingers were playing in your hair and you tilted your head up, Dean laying beside you with his head propped up in his free hand.

“Good morning,” he said gently, giving you a kiss. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah,” you said, stretching out some, curling back onto your side and into his chest. He giggled, such a cute noise you lifted your head to find his face. “Your bedhead is amazing. It’s like a spiky little fluffy hedgehog climbed up there or something.”

“Oh. Well. If you want to talk bedhead,” he said, gaze darting around. “You are one to be saying something right now, sweetheart.”

He smiled and ran his thumb over a piece, that one piece that always stuck straight up somehow, smiling when it popped straight back up again.

“You’re a very good snuggler,” you said.

“It’s one of my many skills,” he teased. “I’m very good at being a big spoon and cuddling under blankets too.”

“Suddenly I wish it were winter,” you laughed. He chuckled as you sat up, watching you look around for your crutches. “Uh, Dean. Not to ruin the moment but I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” he said. You ran a hand over your face to wipe away the light blush, Dean sitting up and pulling you into his lap.

“I can walk Dean,” you laughed as he carried you into your bathroom.

“Yeah but this is faster. Shout if you need anything,” he said. He shut the door after himself and you got a few minutes alone, pushing open the door when you finished to find the bed made and your crutches up against the wall. You snagged them just as Dean came back in the room. “So I’ll let you get dressed and if you need help, Jack said he could since I don’t want to be seeing things you aren’t comfortable showing yet if that’s alright.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. Jack popped around the corner and you asked him to grab a tank top from your closet. He pulled out a light orange colored Henley one. Normally you would have worn your favorite faded denim shorts with it but you were on loose clothing down there for the next little while.

You grabbed a pair of blue running shorts instead and a new pair of underwear and bra from your dresser before you sat back on the bed. Jack left and you could hear he and Dean talking farther down the hall. Surprisingly, getting your bottom half dressed was far easier than the top. You got your bra on decent enough but your side ached. Looking down, there was a large bruise, an ugly dark purple, running all along your left side. You took a deep breath and tugged on your tank top, laying back through gritted teeth when you finished.

“You doing okay in there? Sounds not fun,” called Dean.

“I’m okay. Pain meds wore off is all. You guys can come in,” you said. “Someone bring me Tylenol please.”

“Hey,” said Dean, stepping inside and helping you sit up. Jack ducked into your bathroom and exited with a bottle and glass of water. “Shouldn’t you take the medicine the doctor gave you?”

“It’s too strong. I don’t like it. This is fine,” you said, taking a pill. “I’ll take it slow for a few days.”

“Alright. You up for some breakfast?” asked Dean. You nodded, Dean kneeling down in front of you. “Climb on. Careful of that leg.”

“I know,” you said, getting on his back. Three minutes later you were set down in Sam’s kitchen, sniffing the air and getting a whiff of strawberries and cream. “Mmm. I should make some danishes this week.”

“You ain’t making nothing, sis,” said Jack, setting a glass down in front of you. “You’re off that leg all week.”

“I got orders to make up,” you said, pursing your lips until you stared at Sam who was rolling his eyes. “What?”

“Let us bake. I’m off babysitter duty and Dean’s going back part time everyday this week but he and Jack are home in the afternoon. We can help out,” said Sam.

“You’re not supposed to be working Sam,” you said.

“Well neither are you,” he said. “And it’s baking, not case law.”

“How about you two rest and you make up a list of what Jack and I need to make and then in the afternoon, we can do it, hm?” said Dean. “Sound good?”

“I got deliveries at noon tomorrow though,” you said, Sam sliding a waffle covered plate in front of you.

“We can make cookies today!” said Avy. Dean looked at you and you sighed, nodding your head.

“Alright but Jack is in charge since he’s been helping out a little in the afternoon’s,” you said.

“Perfect. This’ll be great.”

“Boys are silly,” said Avy as you hung out on your back porch later that day, drawing a few pictures with her.

“Oh yes they are,” you said.

“You know we can hear you two!” said Dean through your open back door. You laughed and reached up to open the door, poking your head in.

“While it was funny the first time, please don’t drop that bag of flour all over the floor too,” you said.

“We got it,” said Sam.

“I smell something burning,” said Avy.

“Did you boys set the timer to eleven minutes?” you asked with a hum.

“Yes...how long before they were in there when we did that?” asked Sam.

“New batch boys. I don’t sell burnt things,” you said.

“This is hard,” grumbled Sam as he stepped outside. “I’m playing the brain card and taking a break.”

“Help me up?” you asked, Sam lifting you to your feet when he came onto the back porch. “Thanks.”

You popped inside on one crutch, much easier to get around on in the house, Dean and Jack staring at the empty mixing bowl. You took a seat on one of the counter stools, Jack flicking his eyes in your direction. You let your own wander over to the directions you had printed in the binder, Dean scratching his head.

“Alright. Dean, you measure out everything. Jack, dump the old cookies and wash off the sheet carefully. I’ll walk you through it.”

“I’m exhausted,” said Dean, plopping down in a kitchen chair a few hours later, staring at the pink boxes you had stacked and ready to go. “It was only chocolate chip cookies too.”

“And it’s tiring work,” you said, Jack frosting a few of the sugar cookies you’d made. “Dean, you guys really don’t have to do this after work tomorrow. I can get around the kitchen pretty good. I-”

“You see what I’ve been dealing with my whole life?” said Jack, lifting up the cookie sheet, a pretty decent job if you had to say so. “Always been a perfectionist this one.”

“You do remember when I didn’t even exist to dad for like...years,” you said. “You were the golden child for quite a while.”

“I get the feeling your dad was a bit of a hard ass,” said Dean, leaning back in his seat. You shrugged, Jack doing the same.

“He loved us and I was very upset when he and mom died. We both were. Dad just wasn’t...affectionate really. He worked a lot. Valued intelligence,” said Jack.

“It wasn’t until I told him I wanted to be a neurosurgeon that he looked in my direction. Apparently I should have said I was going to be a doctor when I was four like Jack did and not fourteen,” you said.

“When’d you drop out of school, Jack?” asked Dean, a smile in his voice.

“After freshman year. I mean, I like school. I was good at it. It just...dad had my entire life planned out already. I had no say. I think I was more afraid of turning into him than anything,” said Jack.

“Yeah. I understand that,” said Dean, looking over his shoulder and back at Sam’s house, his parents car parked in the driveway. “So your mom raised you two? You’re both relatively normal human beings.”

“Yes and no,” you said, glancing to Jack. “Our mom…”

“Mom was the kind of woman that slept with the tennis instructor,” said Jack. “She you know, raised us and all that and made up for what dad didn’t do but if she had a date, she had a date. Mom and dad had a very...open relationship. Grandma watched us mostly until I got old enough to stay home with Y/N alone.”

“Wow. We’re the freaking Brady bunch compared to your family,” said Dean.

“They were never cruel or unkind. Very focused on their goals was all, whether that was a job or men or whatever,” you said.

“So when I decide to not have a life plan, it sort of made them both tailspin,” said Jack.

“Still. It’s your life. Not theirs,” said Dean, twitching up his lip in a smile. “I’ll be back over in a few minutes if that’s alright. I want to say hey to my parents before they head home.”

“Dean,” you said. He stopped on the way to the door. “Tell them thank you for bringing dinner by for us tonight. I appreciate that.”

“I’ll be back soon,” he said. The house was quiet once he left, Jack finishing up the last few cookies, packing them neatly in a box. He tucked them all away in the overnight storage area, washing up a few things before he started to dry off his hands.

“Jack,” you said, Jack tossing down a towel on the counter. “Do you still paint?”

“I haven’t painted in a long long time,” he said.

“Would you paint something for the house? Maybe something for the front entrance. That wall where the little table is?” you asked.

“I can do that. What are you looking for?” he asked.

“Surprise me?”

“Dad always thought it was a stupid hobby.”

“Dad thought baking was a stupid hobby too. I love dad, Jack. I do. I love mom too. But they’re gone. I’m never going to call you a failure because you don’t want to be a workaholic asshole doctor like he was that barely noticed his own children. Dean’s got a point. These are our lives, Jack. We can do what we want with them. If you want to work in the garage the rest of your life, shit you want to go be a barista, mulch yards, go paint, I don’t care. I want us both to be happy and...I’m really starting to feel happy, Jack. For the first time. You seem more like yourself again too. Mom and dad wasn’t your fault. Whatever happened at that Bryerwood place wasn’t your fault. I almost died two days ago, Jack. It was close, closer than Sam and I made it sound. I just want you to know that if something happened to me, I’m really happy you’re my brother and I love you and you better go and get your ass over to the Winchesters because you’ll be a hot mess and they’ll take care of you, alright?”

“You still love me?” he asked.

“Yeah. I do,” you said. “I’m sorry if you felt like I didn’t.”

“You gave me a second chance. I already knew. It’s nice to hear it is all,” he said.

“How can I not love my big brother?” you teased.

“I love you too,” he said. He stepped over and gave you a hug, the door opening and closing, your head turning to give Dean a smile and an aw.

“Was there a moment?” he smirked.

“Moment’s done,” said Jack. “I’m going to shower and crash. I’m beat.”

“Alright. Get some sleep, Jackie,” you said.

“Night, puppy,” he said.

“Puppy?” asked Dean.

“He wanted a puppy when my mom was pregnant. He thought he was getting a puppy, not a little sister,” you said. “He was only like two so you gotta give him some slack.”

“I thought Sammy was going to be a watermelon,” said Dean. “Mom’s stomach got huge.”

“I bet. He was probably a big baby. Do you mind locking up the front door?” you asked, starting to head for the stairs. “If you’re staying over that is.”

“Would you like me to stay?” he asked, holding up a backpack. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

“What are you comfortable with?” you asked.

“Oh my god. You two are disgusting,” called Jack from the upstairs balcony. “Just stay over, dumbass.”

“I think I liked you better when you were antsy, you know!” shouted back Dean. “Kids these days, I swear.”

“What are you, a thousand?” said Jack. “I’m only five years younger.”

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” said Dean with a smirk after locking the back door. “I have to go give your big brother a reason why he should be grateful he doesn’t have one of his own.”

“Dean’s coming to destroy you, just an fyi,” you said as you looked upwards, Dean jogging past you and up the stairs, Jack’s feet pounding but you heard a thud and pair of laugh’s coming from the hall. “Avy you were right. Boys are silly.”

Monday Morning

“Hi girlie,” you said, smiling when Eileen stepped inside the house.

“Could you guys like, stop dying, please. This is too stressful for me,” she said, setting her bag down by the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, Eileen raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Nurse Lehay, I’m fine.”

“You staying off that leg?” she said, throwing an arm under your shoulder. You hummed as she helped you upstairs and to your room, setting you down on your bathroom bench.

“I forgot how strong you get lugging around bodies all day,” you said.

“Says the chick picking up all those sacks of flour and sugar all day long,” she said, going to your shower and turning it on. She stared at you a moment and you sighed. “Y/N, we were roommates. How many times have I seen you naked?”

“I know. Just...don’t freak on me,” you said.

“I’m a nurse. It takes a lot to freak me out,” she said. You peeled off your shirt, Eileen closing her eyes.

“Totally not noticeable, right?” you said.

“That is a nasty bruise,” she said, kneeling beside you. You took off your bra and covered your chest with an arm, letting her get a better look. “Well, it ain’t pretty but there are signs of healing. I’m shocked you didn’t break any of these ribs. Must have eaten your wheaties that day.”

“Sam grabbed the wheel and turned it. He was looking that direction thankfully. I don’t think I’d be walking if he hadn’t,” you said. “Or breathing.”

“You never know with car accidents. Sometimes they’re bad, sometimes you walk away with only a few scratches,” she said. “Alright. First we get you in the shower and then I can put on a new bandage for you.”

“I wish all patients were like you,” teased Eileen after your shower and you were dressed on the bed. “You know how uncomfortable all the bending is.”

“I have tweaked my back changing bandages on people so many times,” you said, lowering your leg back to the bed. “So you officially done with Mr. Winchester next door?”

“Nursing, yes. Other aspects are...starting up,” she said with a smile.

“Sam’s a good guy, Eileen,” you said. “He likes you. You got to be pretty special for Sam Winchester to like you.”

“I know. I totally broke all the rules with him but...he’s sweet. We’re going out tonight,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You and Dean doing anything fun?”

“Babysitting Avy with him and my brother?” you laughed. “I’m sure I’m in for a thrilling night myself.”

You were a little surprised when Sam dropped Avy off himself at your house that night. You were more surprised when Jack said he was watching her that night.

“Avy, why don’t you go help Y/N pick out a dress?” asked Sam. She took your hand and with a little help from Jack, you were upstairs, standing in front of your closet.

“What about this one?” asked Avy. You laughed and shook your head.

“That was my prom dress, Avy. I don’t know why I even have that still. How about one of those light summer ones on the end?”

She pursed her lips and stood in front of the three of them, two you’d never even worn beside the store. She pointed at the white one with little flowers on it, the tag still hanging on it.

“I think we got a winner,” you said. “Can you get up on your tiptoes and take it off the rack for me?”

“Here you go,” she said, handing it over. You ripped off the tags and dropped them in the garbage. “Mommy had a dress like that.”

“She did? Do you remember doing stuff with your mom?” you asked, Avy hopping into the bedroom while you changed in the closet.

“Not really. I know she was nice and daddy loved her and I loved her though. He used to be really quiet after she died, like at nighttime,” she said. “Uncle Dean lived with us for a while when I was really little.”

“You know Avy, my and Jack’s mom died too, and our dad,” you said, stepping out into the room, taking a seat on the bench. “If you ever want to talk about that stuff, we understand how it can feel funny.”

“Daddy talks about mommy a lot since his accident. But happy now if that makes sense,” she said.

“It does. Did your daddy talk to you about Eileen?”

“Mhm. I like her. She makes daddy happy and she’s gonna take me and him to the zoo on Saturday!” she said.

“Well Eileen’s been my friend for a while and I know you guys are gonna get along great,” you said. “Would you mind grabbing my crutch over there?”

“Mhm. I told daddy to stop getting in car accidents,” she said as she handed it to you and you stood up.

“I second that,” you said, smiling at her and twirling the bottom of your dress. “What do you think? Look good?”

“Uh huh. Uncle Dean will like that,” she said.

“I bet he will,” you said. “You have fun with Jack tonight. Beat him in Mario Kart for me.”

“Okey dokey,” she said. You laughed and headed out of the room, managing the stairs with Jack’s help.

Sam said goodbye to Avy before he left and you sat out on the front porch, smirking as you saw Dean slip out of Baby he’d parked out front. He was wearing a light red flannel, gray tee and some faded jeans, hands behind his back as he wandered up the driveway.

“Well who told you you were allowed to be that beautiful?” he said. You bit down your smile, Dean hopping onto the porch, bending down to deliver a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said, Dean pulling you to your feet and picking you up. “Can I keep you?”

“Please do,” he said, laughing as he got you settled into Baby, your crutches in the back.

“So where are you taking me all dolled up like this?” you asked.

“It's a surprise,” he said, bopping you on the nose. “You just sit back, relax, and let me take care of everything.”

Dean smiled and turned on the radio, backing out of the driveway and heading down the street, driving until you hit some back roads and you started to hit true farm country. He had the window down, singing along to one of the songs, tufts of soft hair moving in the wind. You took a quick picture, smiling before you set your phone back in your lap.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“You look so happy,” you said.

“I got my girl. I got my Baby. I got some tunes on a perfect summer night. I’m the happiest guy in the world, sweetheart,” he said.

“So what’s my surprise?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.

“Nope. I’m not telling. You just hold tight for a hot minute,” he said. You went along with him, Dean pulling off on a random dirt road between two fields, driving slowly as the sun started to set, the sky a brilliant orange and pink. He drove for only a minute and he drove onto the grass, pulling to a stop. “We’re here.”

“Middle of nowhere? We sure are,” you laughed.

“Oh but my lady, you are at the most exclusive locale in the world,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Out of the car with you.”

He hopped out and had you sit on the hood, humming while he grabbed some things out of the trunk.

“Don’t you dare turn around on me,” he warned, a lot of thudding and dropping going on behind you.

“Or what?” you laughed.

“Or...shut up,” he said, chuckling to himself. He worked for a few more minutes, as you watched the sun dip lower, Dean suddenly in front of you. “Trust me?”

“Definitely.”

He smiled and picked you up, your arms going around his shoulders.

“Close your eyes for me, Y/N. We aren’t going far,” he said. You did as told, Dean walking the two of you around to the other end. “I’m gonna set you down and spin you the other way. Keep ‘em closed and hold onto my shoulders, okay?”

“Okay,” you said. You felt your feet touch the ground, Dean sliding around to your bad leg, wrapping an arm around your waist to help keep the weight off of it.

“Alright. You can open now.”

You blinked a few times, turning your head up to look at him, giving him a side hug.

He had a cooler set down near a log, a blanket spread out on the ground and a tasty looking meal set out for you on top of it. There was a fire going just off to the side and you had no idea where he even got the wood from to start it.

“As I said, very exclusive place,” he said.

“I love it,” you said. You took a seat on the blanket, Dean grabbing you each a drink for your dinner. It was a homemade meal but delicious, Dean spending more time looking at you than paying his food any attention. He held up a finger and got up, turning on the radio in Baby, quiet music filtering over to where you sat.

When you finished, he pulled the blanket over to the fire, laying on top of it and back against the log, tucking you into his side.

“The stars are starting to come out,” you said, the sun long gone below the horizon.

“Yeah,” said Dean softly. “You can see a lot of them out here. Away from town.”

“Would you want to go on a weekend trip sometime? Once my leg is better,” you said. “Just us?”

“I would love that,” he said, kissing your cheek. “We could even take a few days more if you wanted.”

“Where do you want to go? The beach? Camping?” you asked.

“As long as I don’t have to fly, I’m all ears,” he said.

“Anywhere you’ve ever wanted to go and haven’t?”

“I just had the stupidest idea,” he said as he grinned.

“Hit me with it,” you said, watching a few flames.

“Road trip. A food road trip. We hit up some of the best barbecue places in the country. Texas, Georgia,Tennessee. It could be fun,” he said. “But like I said, it’s really stupid.”

You sat up, staring at him before you whacked him in the arm.

“That’s the best idea ever! Hell yeah we’re doing that!” you said. “That’ll be so much fun!”

“Really?” he said. You nodded, Dean smiling to himself. “Well I say we got ourselves a little road trip soon then.”

“Awesome. It’ll give me something to look forward to besides tossing that stupid crutch in the trash,” you said, Dean pulling you back to his chest.

“Hey, it’s not all that bad. I got plenty of excuses to give you piggyback rides now,” he said, resting his head against the top of yours. “How’s your side feeling today?”

“Sore still but I’ll survive. You’re very comfy,” you said.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said, your bandage peeking out from the bottom of your dress, Dean’s finger trailing over the edge of it. “Y/N. This thing we have going on...this relationship...it means a lot to me.”

“Me too. This isn’t a fling for me, Dean,” you said, tilting your head up with a smile.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, moving his hand, finding your own to play with. “It’s not for me either. But I’m falling. I’m falling so damn fast and it feels...different. I was a wreck at the hospital after your accident. I snuck outside and...that was the second time in as many months that I thought someone I care about wasn’t walking out of that place. I bawled like a baby, Y/N. I thought how dare you just come into my life and make me feel happy and like it’s okay for someone else to take care of me for the first time and then you were almost out of it. Not to mention what you did for Sammy. Sure it was a gut reaction but somewhere in that head of yours you care enough to keep him safe. I guess I’m rambling and I’ll deny I ever said any of that but...you’re important to me. God, I hope you know what that means to me,” he said. You smiled and nodded, giving him a kiss.

“I do,” you said, barely above a whisper, the fire crackling in front of you. “I have something to admit.”

“What?” he breathed out.

“See, I’m falling too. It feels like I forget to breathe sometimes when I think about it. But as long as we’re both falling...maybe we’ll be lucky enough to hit the ground together,” you said.

“If we’re lucky,” he said with a small nod. “I really hope we get lucky. We’re due for some good luck.”

“I think we might get lucky,” you said, staring up at him, big green eyes staring back. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Doing what, sweetheart?”

“Making me forget to breathe,” you said.

“S’only fair. My stomach’s been doing flips from the second I met you,” he said, eyes darting around your face. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Good. I was running out of metaphors,” you said. Dean lay you back against the ground, laying on his side before he cupped your cheek, kissing you softly, making a lazy game out of it.

You arched up into it, rolling to your bad side when pain shot through it. You hissed and rolled back, Dean pressing a finger to your lips.

“Stay,” he said, kissing you again, still slow, still sweet. He lay his arm out so you could rest your head on it, his other hand touching your face, mapping out lines and curves. You let yourself do the same, feel the scruff on his cheeks, the hard set jaw that was relaxed right now, dance over the freckles adorning his skin.

Your hand wandered to the back of his neck and to his hair. His hair was always so soft, little spikes sticking up, little tufts forming that made him even more gorgeous.

Anyone that ever thought he was stupid or not good enough had to have been nuts.

Dean pulled back, his face flush, a few big breaths leaving him and fanning over your face. He smiled goofily and you took the opportunity to nuzzle a finger under his chin, Dean curling his head into it.

“Tickles,” he mumbled, your finger trailing down to his collar, dipping in the hollow of the bone. “Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you said, moving your arm over his waist instead.

“You like me for me,” he said. There wasn’t a question in there so you didn’t say anything, Dean moving a few strands of your hair around. “Can I tell you something, something no one else knows? Even Sammy doesn’t know.”

“Yeah. I won’t tell,” you said. He smiled and looked behind you at the fire, up at the dark sky and the bright stars that were peeking out. Finally he settled his gaze back on your face, a shy look there.

“Last week I applied to this mechanic training program in Kansas City. Just outside the city actually. It’s for...it teaches more stuff, more foreign cars, high end cars, motorcycles. Stuff that Bobby never knew about, none of the guys at the shop do. It’d really help the business grow. I uh...I got in,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “I wanted to tell you on our date on Friday but that obviously didn’t happen.”

“You did? That’s great, Dean! I’m so proud of you,” you said, tucking in closer to give him a hug.

“I...I did good on the test and...I got a scholarship for it. It’s only be for like the fall and in the afternoons but...yeah,” he said with a smile. You sat up, ignoring the pain in your side at the sudden movement.

“I am so happy for you,” you said, giving him a bigger hug and kiss when he leaned up. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah. Nervous. Been awhile since I was in school. All these other guys are gonna be like straight out of high school,” he said, his cheeks pink for a few seconds.

“Well you have a ton of experience and you’re so smart. You’re gonna do great. If you have tests, I can help you study or-“

“I know, honey. You know, I’ve wanted to apply for years now. Always thought I wasn’t good enough. But you never believed that,” he said, shrugging his shoulder. “I thought...maybe you were right and so I put in for it...thank you, sweetheart.”

“You are more than good enough, for whatever you want to do or try,” you said. Dean rested his forehead against your own. “You got that, Winchester?”

“I got it,” he laughed. “I’d hate to get on your bad side after all.”

“You’re never getting on my bad side,” you said, bumping your nose to his. “I think you should tell Sam and everyone, let them know you got in.”

“It’s not like I got into Stanford,” he said, looking down.

“Dean,” you said, lifting your head, Dean’s moving with it, the two of you slowly peeling apart, the flames behind you lighting up his face. “You did something for you. You put yourself first for the first time since I’ve met you. I know that is not something you do very often. I want to celebrate this, celebrate you.”

“These have been the worst few months of my life, but also the best.”

“You gave me back my brother,” you said. “That alone is...then I get you and...do you remember that morning in my kitchen when Jack showed up that day?” Dean nodded, reaching towards your lap and taking your hands in his.

“You said you were lonely in that house. You’ve been lonely for a long time, haven’t you,” he said.

“I don’t feel so lonely anymore. I’m over Sam’s everyday, always with someone it seems. I still like my quiet time, like you, but it’s refreshing now,” you said. “Not so...unwanted.”

“Good. You’re gonna make a baker out of that boy,” said Dean. “Sammy always did like making cookies with mom.”

“What’s your favorite kind of pie, Dean?” you asked.

“Cherry. You are very much wanted too, sweetheart,” he said, carefully sliding you to sit in his lap.

“Well tomorrow I am making you a cherry pie for getting into your school and for being arguably the best neighbor I’ve ever had,” you said, tossing your arms over his shoulders.

“Was that all it took?” he teased.

“Dean?”

“Y/N.”

“I want to kiss you again,” you said.

“Please do,” he said, laying the both of you down again. “You’re always welcome to do that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, your eyes blinking open as you felt yourself be set down on your bed hours later. “Don’t wake up. I’m just gonna take off your sneakers and get you covered up, okay?”

“We’re home?” you mumbled.

“Yeah. You kept insisting we stay but I got work and you need a proper bed to rest in,” he said, your shoes falling to the floor. You shut your eyes and felt a light blanket come over you. Something moved your hair and Dean pulled it out of the loose pony it’d been in.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple.

You were out before he even had a chance to turn off the light.

A/N: Read Part 12 here!

[santalsaburablog]

Adventures of Santal. Chapter 8: Aunt's Visit.

Your children are not your children. They appear through you, but not from you. You can give them your love, but not your thoughts, because they have their thoughts. You can give home to their bodies, but not to their souls. You are only bows, from which living arrows are sent forward, which you call your children.

     Santal starts training! Together with the rest of the children, under the guidance of experienced instructors, she enters the Jedi path of life. And this is not so easy. And it all begins in the Jedi Temple, where groups of younglings comprehend the Force, learn to wield a lightsaber and experience the world in all directions and aspects.

     The next day was almost the same. The only difference was that instead of history, there was politics, which many of her clan did not like. Santal herself was neutral about the subject.

     But in the evening something interesting happened.

     - Santal! - Landa ran up to the girl. - They are waiting for you at the gate. About two statues. Do you know those at the entrance where the stairs are?

     Sabura immediately jumped off, although she was tired after a long school day and wondered what awaited her. What a surprise? She even had time to think that it could be a trap. Suddenly someone again wants to give it somewhere, that is, sell it. Or take it somewhere. Or maybe even kill?

     While the girl was thinking, she did not notice how she got there. She had already prepared herself for the worst, even for a new encounter with the Evil Hat. But…

     - Santal! “It was my aunt and uncle.

     Not remembering herself, Santal threw herself into an embrace.

     - Santal, our girl! Well, finally we found you!

     Suddenly, the aunt pulled back, looked the girl up and down.

     - What are you wearing? The woman frowned.

     Santal was frightened. What did she do wrong?

     “Nothing,” she said timidly.

     - Nothing ?! Santal cringed. She did not like her aunt's tone at all. - Have you been enrolled?

     - Yes.

     - What?! - Elina screamed. - Just took it and enrolled? And the permission? Didn't they ask permission from us or you? So, what?

     - No, they asked me. More than once. I agreed.

     - Do not lie! Don't you dare cover them! I do not believe! You couldn't agree to that! They've already brainwashed you. Were in time, you bastards, but you did not notice anything. But we don't blame it at all.

     - Aunt, calm down. Nobody washed me anything. They only bathed in the bath.

     - Here you go. Something must have been mixed in. Well, they definitely did something.

     - Elina. - Nobi could hardly restrain himself from twisting his finger at his temple. - Can you hear yourself? I think you started delirious.

     Santal decided to change the subject, although she knew she would return to the old one.

     - And how did you find me?

     Nobi was quick to reply:

     - Taking all the money, a little from the savings that were, and also ...

     Then Elina interrupted her husband:

     - Quiet, quiet dear. I'll tell you everything myself. - And switched to her niece. - Taking all the money, a little from the savings. It's good that it was enough, otherwise I would have to borrow from the neighbors. We barely bought a ticket for the near future. I had to wait six hours for the flight. Then, when we arrived, they caught a taxi for a long time to take them to the Temple. And now we were simply not allowed there! - Elina again could not restrain herself and switched to screaming.

     "Of course we are not Jedi," Nobi replied.

     - What's the difference? Our niece is there, they don't understand, or what? Fiends! Don't they value family ties at all? They had to let me pass!

     “You wanted to say" us. "

     - Well yes. Okay, Santal, now to the cosmodrome and home. Just collect your things.

     With these words, the Letanka brought her niece into a stupor. She didn't want to leave. If my aunt had made an offer the day before yesterday, Santal might have agreed. But not now. When she began to explore the world.

     “Auntie… I… I… don't want to go home.

     - Sorry, dear, I misheard. It seemed to me, literally for a moment, that you said that ... Baby, you're wrong. You are still quite small and you do not know anything about life.

     - That's it! Therefore…

     - But still. Why tempt fate? Do you know why we protect you? Only here, with us, will you be whole. You, of course, do not yet understand this, but you will. So please listen to your aunt. The galaxy is very scary. Well, I'm not going to lie. And how much evil is around. There are so many doubts and temptations around. All sorts of hunters, bandits and other criminals! Giant slugs. Blue vampire. Crime is the entire underworld. O Strength, I will feel bad now! All in all, I want to say that the world outside Ryloth is very dangerous, cruel and scary. And on the planet itself, in our city there is a family that loves you. There aunt and uncle will be there. You will feel good with us. So to hell with the drama, listen to your aunt!

     - No, aunt. I cant. I feel like I must stay. - Santal spoke in short pauses, wanting to correctly express the idea. “And I see nothing wrong with traveling the galaxy. Here, listen.

     Elina frowned even more, turned purple.

     - Well, go travel. Get in trouble. Or let the villain tear or dishonor. I'm just an aunt, what do I know? Just how to feed, love, cherish. So leave me, I deserve it. Throw it all alone at the end of the day. But know, it will become clear later. I know better that you are better. And I'm smarter, I'm your girlfriend. Just me and Uncle Noby. Nobody else. All our lives we have fed and watered you like our own niece. Accepted as it is. You are always welcome in our house. The door is always open. And here is the unfamiliar Jedi Temple. What if someone deceives you there? One you will definitely be lost. I speak about this only out of love ... We will always understand and console! Safe only with us!      

     Santal listened out of habit to the end and continued:     

     “Aunt, you don’t understand, and by the way, you promised me a secret.      

     - Exactly! Listen ...      

     Elina just wanted to start when she changed her mind and took the girl around the corner. Making sure no one would hear, she said:     

       - You see. I thought not to tell anything at all. But it seems that this cannot be done without. We gave you Sabur's last name for security reasons. So that no one knows. Otherwise they would have found out, and we would have been quickly identified and killed. In fact, you are Santal Shang. You are Bastian and Adira's daughter. According to Twilek's' Santals'Abura Bastian Lia. You always knew that the hunters killed your parents. In principle, it was so. More precisely, this is our version. Because we don't know what to think. A month before what happened, Adira came to me and shared the news. She said that there would definitely be a girl and that she wanted to name her Santal. And you know, your mom was my best friend who saved me from slavery. And I made a vow to Adira that if something happens, I will take care of her. Adira, of course, denied it, they say, why, it is not necessary to take it to the extreme. But I insisted and took an oath.      

     And what do you want to repay? Black ingratitude. You have a home and a loving family. You will not be denied anything. No restrictions, just obey. And in the Temple, early wakes, constant study and no childhood await you. Then you grow up, you will have a teacher. And then the fun begins. You will go on missions with him. You will be told that you will help. In fact, you will take risks. The meaning of life as a Jedi is you never know when you're going to die. And you can die already on the first mission. Anyway, any of your missions can be your last. Unfortunately, it is impossible to see the future. You can live to be eighty or ninety. Or you can play the box at twenty.      

     And deaths are also different. You can die with honor or shame. So, I think your parents have a shameful death. To die even from a tough hunter is a shame. Or you can die in the alleyway, and no one will know what happened to you. Do you want it?      

      Santal never thought about it, and therefore did not find an answer. Elina brought her niece to her original place. And what was her surprise that several Jedi were standing nearby. Among them were Yoda, Adi Gallia, a black Jedi from the council and an even larger-headed one with a white beard.      

     - Well! Here you are, monsters! Know! First, your guards would not let me see my only niece. Second, you won't get it! Leave us alone!      

    - Woman, calm down. - said Adi Gallia. “We're not taking anyone by force. And Santal herself expressed a desire to study here.     

    - Not true! Not true! Most likely, you forced her! My baby has become a victim of your manipulations. You were brainwashed with these things.      

    The woman's eyes widened at such words.     

    - What's wrong? We don't do that. Santal made her own decision. She wants to comprehend the Power and help others.      

   “It's true,” the girl said. - It is very important for me. Perhaps I will find out more. Yes, I want to know a lot and perhaps I can solve the mystery of Bastian and Adira.      

    - How do you know? - the black man was surprised.      

   - I told! - Elina snapped. - Everyone knows this legend! The hunters killed and further, further. And I think they died because of you! You are to blame for everything!      

   At this point, everyone was dumbfounded. And Santal couldn't understand why. From the words of Aunt Elina, or from the fact that it was not a Jedi who spoke to the Jedi in such a tone.      

   “Woman, I don’t know why you think so of us, but your niece will be completely safe here. A happy future awaits her here.      

- Until he goes on some mission and dies! - shouted, straining, the Letanka.      

“If she tries, she will become a very strong Jedi and live a long time,” Gallia answered absolutely calmly.      

- Aunt, don't worry. I have already lived here one day. And I'm comfortable here. I'm new, but I'll probably get used to it. I met other children. And they treat me normally. They like me.     

 - Do you like it, Santal? - Elina grinned. - What nonsense? That's what I've always been afraid of. Honey, you don't know people at all. Oh my poor naive child! Well, what could you like? Naivety and sweetness? In just a couple of days?     

 - And you did not let me go anywhere further backyard. In recent days, I have seen so many things, with whom I have met. And I still want! I want to know the world. To help. It is very important for me. And I am very glad that I am Force sensitive. - For the first time Santal was angry with her aunt. For the first time I wanted to express my opinion.     

    “You see,” Yoda smiled. - She herself wants. She has a dream. She believes in her. Even at the meeting, she demonstrated loyalty to her principles and herself. She is polite, benevolent. I think the Jedi will come out of her.     

     - Understand. - Elina is already desperate. - I just want to save the girl. I want her well. I want her to live a happy, cloudless life, knowing nothing of denial. So that she does not know any troubles.      

    “Woman, we now perfectly understand what you want,” the black man answered harshly.      

    And Elina didn't even turn her ear. I switched to Santal.      

     - Okay, niece. Don't be stubborn, come with us. Aunt…     

    - No! Shouted Santal.      

     - What? - Elina asked half-suspiciously, half-disbelievingly.      

     - No! Aunt, you don't understand what's best for me. You know what's best for you. I'm not you!      

     - Santal, you are a traitor! - said the aunt loudly.      Everything inside the girl clenched.     

      - Why?    

      - Santal is smarter than everyone, intends to stay. Knows how to choose the environment. If you decide so, then so be it. Roll towards them! If you're sure, but first I'll give you something back! The woman waved her hand towards the Jedi, then tossed Santal to her mother's Padawan scythe. - Since you value communication with strangers who killed your parents, and not with those who raised you, who put their souls into you. If you want to repeat the fate of mom and dad. If you don't want an easy and carefree life. I want to save you! But you are smarter, and if so, then please, but keep in mind that I am issuing a waiver! Everything! You're not my niece anymore! But if you come to your senses, I will not accept you! I'll slam the door in my face! Survive on the street yourself! You will be sorry! You're an idiot! Come on, Noby.     

      The man looked at the girl with regret and went with his wife away from the Temple. A dumbfounded Santal was left to stand with her new family.      

     The girl seemed to have turned to stone. She watched, without taking her eyes, as two silhouettes left her. Red and green. They got smaller and smaller until they disappeared altogether. The stretched string in the chest area snapped. Santal imagined that she was running, running, as a bridge appeared in front of her. She wants to step, but the bridge collapses from the opposite end. And it doesn't just collapse. There is a fire. Conflagration! Everything, the bridge is burned. This path is closed. And never get through. Unless just jump over or fly over. Both the first and the second are impossible.      

     “Let's go,” Gallia called.      

    And Santal went, at first backing away, gradually shifting to constantly looking back at the place where her uncle and aunt had been just recently. Now they are gone. The girl even began to think, maybe she was in a hurry with the decision? Maybe we should try to find them? Catch up, talk again. But she was afraid, what if she would be lost again?      

     When Santal was about to change her mind, look away from the Order and confidently follow the Jedi, as Yoda said:      

    - Go.      

    For Santal, it was a signal, and she jumped off the spot and ran up the stairs. As I ran to the end, caught my breath, looked around. There was no one around who closely resembled her spiritual relatives.     

    - Aunt-ah! Aunt-ah! It's me, Santal. Your niece, who didn't want to quarrel. Sorry. Let's talk.      

   This time Santal acted smarter, remembered the road. And I walked so long that I did not notice how far I wandered. The girl called again, but received nothing in return. No response. Not a sound. Frustrated that everything had turned out this way, Santal was trudging back. As I heard:      

   - For help! Help! - The sound was so loud that it literally crashed into the brain.    

    Everything inside Santal shrank. The eyes fled. Where are they shouting? What happened? Where to run?      

    A few minutes later, relying only on her Jedi instinct, the girl was still able to find the source of the scream with half a sin. Some human woman was holding something to her chest while the being above her tried to take it away. It didn't look like those lizards from Devaron.      

   - Hey, you! Leave me alone! Can't you see that she doesn't want to give? Not ashamed, huh? Santal's voice was much bolder than herself.      

    The creature with many braids turned around and laughed.     

    - And what is this squeaker?      

     But Santal did not appreciate the joke. I tried to smile predatory to match the Evil Hat. This time, she completely concentrated, imagining a future picture, in order to repeat the same technique again on Devaron. And it worked! The man crashed into the boxes behind his back. But I didn't pass out. And he chased. Santal, of course, did not expect this. And, quickly turning around, she started. First to the right, and then, seeing the boxes and hiding behind them, back to the Temple. After making sure that the creature does not return to her or to the woman. 

     Fortunately or not, on the way back, she ran into that woman again.

     - Thanks. Thank you so much. I don’t know how to thank you. - Words of gratitude and flew from the lips. Hands folded into the castle were shaking. And the brown eyes were shining.

     "And her eyes shine," - thought the girl and added aloud:

     - That's enough for me, thank you.

     Just about to leave, they called her:

     - Wait. What's your name?

     Santal thought and answered:

     - I am Youngling Santal Sabura.

     - Are you a Jedi?

     - Yes. I recently became one. Santal rubbed the back of her head, feeling uncomfortable.

     “Strange, usually Jedi, especially young ones, don't go that far.

     - Do you know about us?

     “I've heard a lot about you. That you are helping people unselfishly. That you are the keepers of the world. And it seems to be true.

     Santal was bursting with pride that, as a Jedi for only two days, she had managed to make a positive impression, and besides, she had confirmed the reputation of the Order.

     “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.

     - I'm Rana Martez.

     - Glad to meet you. Well, I'll go if you don't need me anymore. Bye.

     Saying goodbye, Santal ran home in a great mood. Oddly enough, she did not get lost, although she went far enough. Maybe the Force helped?

     Santal appeared in the Temple, barely standing on her feet. Well, she was avoided today! The girl intermittently crossed the hall, simultaneously looking to the right and left with a wide smile on her face. Now this is her new home. There is no turning back. And the aunt made it clear. Therefore, she will not return and will try to forget, or from time to time will remember with light sadness those times when she was still small and carefree, wearing rose-colored glasses. Best time! The best time of life!

     Suddenly, for some reason, Santal thought again about her uncle. How is he? What is he doing now? What is he thinking about? About her, how is she about him? Or completely forgot how a dream? And why does she herself think of him? Who is he to her? None. Just the man that brought her to the Jedi. So, maybe he is not so much to blame? And does not deserve punishment? No. Even if the little one deserves it, it should be discouraging to steal and offend small children. Santal even imagined how she would grow up, become a real Jedi, and then she would show him! The girl promised herself that she would do so.

     But, despite the bloodthirsty attitude, Santal caught herself thinking that she did not consider the man a complete monster. If he was, he would have killed her on the spot. No questions or analysis. I wouldn't take it to other planets, try to sell it. The argument in favor of this opinion was the fact that he slapped her on the cheek, snapped her nose. So not very angry. Just harmful. Or maybe he was unhappy, although it doesn't look like. It is so? Or not? Okay, now it's not up to him. We need to focus on learning.

     And Santal Sabura, completely determined to the brim, went to the library to enjoy reading and preparing her homework.

     But this was not the only thought that occupied the girl's mind. He also analyzed all day from the beginning. And in the end it was concluded that she made the right choice. For the first time in her life, she had to choose, and she did it! And if she had left, she would not have been able to save the woman, she would have perished. She's great.

     Then it dawned on Santal: what happened today was a lucky coincidence. And how many more successful coincidences are ahead? Well, that's what she has to find out.

[marshunter06]

Love Lockdown

VII- Beginnings Start With Peanut Butter

T: Hey, did you read the email response from the professor yet?

C: No, I fell asleep early. I’ll look at it now. Give me a few minutes.

T: Take your time (:

Courtney and Trent,

You two are the first to ever ask me to speak to your client. I don’t see the harm in allowing you to do so as I have all of my notes about all the cases. Send me your questions and I will answer them according to your case. I look forward to seeing what you two come up with.

C: Just read it, FaceTime after breakfast? It’s easier to talk things through than typing it.

T: Sounds good. I’m just about to have my coffee.

C: Give me an hour or so. I’d rather not FaceTime in my pajamas.

T: Good idea, don’t want you to judge me on what I wear to sleep.

C: You seem like the type to wear Disney Princess shirts...

T: Lol, you caught me, that’s exactly what I wear.

C: Talk to you later Sleeping Beauty.

She was still smiling as she got ready for the day. She still didn’t feel the need to dress up, so a t-shirt and jeans would do. Today was an oatmeal kind of day, along with some coffee and she would be happy. She hadn’t realized she was humming until Duncan pointed out.

“What song is that?”

“I don’t have the music on.”

“You’re humming a song. It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was humming it out loud. It’s called obsession by Joywaves. I played it last night while making dinner.”

“Where did you say you found your new playlist again?”

“My friend sent it to me. We have pretty similar music tastes.”

“Is this your mystery guy friend that I don’t know.”

“Why are you saying it like that, and yes it’s the same one.”

Duncan leaves the kitchen without another word. He didn’t even bother taking his bowl of oatmeal, with just a touch of honey, that Courtney made for him. She could guess why he was mad, but it was still none of his business. Though it did make her feel happy in a way to know that he was jealous. This was not a healthy way to continue living together.

“Morning Court.”

“Right on time as usual, maybe you wouldn’t be Sleeping Beauty.”

“Haha, no probably not, but I must confess that I don’t know the princesses well enough to know which one I would be.”

“It’s okay, we can figure that out later. Thoughts on questions we should ask?”

“Well… my number one question is if she did it or not.”

“I’m curious too, only because I want to be right.”

They spend an hour or so coming up with questions to email their professor then sending it over for him to answer. While waiting for a response, Courtney thought it would be a good time to talk to him about the songs on his playlist.

“I didn’t get to thank you for your playlist yet.”

“Does that mean you enjoyed it?”

“I haven’t gotten through all of it, but yes I like it a lot. We have similar tastes in music.”

“I had a feeling you would like them.”

“There’s a specific song that I can’t get out of my head though.”

“Oh? Which one?”

“Obsession. It’s really relatable, I feel like that’s how I’ve been pushing through my life.”

“Definitely. I feel the same way, it’s easier to focus on a new obsession than dealing with whatever crazy thing that’s happening right now.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you put it on the playlist.”

D: What did you want to do for lunch?

She completely forgot about planning for lunch. It was about two hours from noon, so she still had time if she wanted to make something. Then what about dinner, did she want to make something for lunch then eat it again at dinner? Decisions, decisions.

“Court? What are you thinking about?”

“Sorry, I just got a text reminding me that I should think of something for lunch.”

“I would suggest you eat the same thing we are, but you can’t eat Mac n’ cheese.”

“Yeah, and now I’m thinking about dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“I don’t know whether to make something big for lunch and just eat it again at dinner or just go with something more simple.”

“We’re making curry tonight if that helps, oh and my mom is going to make a peanut butter pie for dessert.”

“Peanut butter pie?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing, as long as you like peanuts. She adds nutter butter cookies on top, but that’s optional. Oh, and it’s dairy free.”

“Now you’re tempting me.”

“If you want, she’s going to make it after lunch, we can FaceTime and she can go through the process with you.”

“Like a live cooking tutorial? Okay, send me the ingredients. I think I should have everything.”

“Sending it now, but that still doesn’t solve your lunch or dinner problem.”

“It’s okay, I’m thinking fried rice for lunch and tacos for dinner.”

“Soft shell tacos?”

“Always, it’s the only option. Looking through the ingredients, I definitely have everything. Let me know when your mom is ready to go live.”

“Will do, see you later Court.”

C: Fried rice for lunch and Tacos for dinner?

D: Ok.

C: I’m going to make dessert too.

D: You’re terrible at baking.

C: Well, I’m going to learn. I’ll have a live instructor, so be quiet after lunch.

D: A live baking class?

C: Exactly that.

D: What are you making?

C: A peanut butter pie, it’s dairy free.

D: Looking forward to it Princess (:

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to make the dessert, especially a dessert involving peanut butter. During their high school days, Duncan would always bring her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She often overworked herself and skipped lunch, it was one of the ways he helped look after her. This was pretty much the reason they got together in the first place.

“Hey Princess.”

“Not now Duncan.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I brought you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“No thanks.”

“You’re going to pass out if you don’t eat it.”

I’m perfectly fine, now leave me alone!”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re annoying me, don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“I’m right where I want to be.”

“I think you’re mistaken, detention is on the other side of school.”

“One of these days you’re really going to push me away.”

She didn’t respond to that, he still didn’t leave. Truth was, she didn’t ever think there would be a day he would stop bothering her. He’s been like a thorn on her side since freshman year when she transferred over. No matter what she did, he wouldn’t leave her alone. Even now, he was still bringing her food and staying to make sure she ate it.

“You don’t…”

The words died on her tongue. Had he always looked at her this way? With a small smile on his face and piercing blue eyes staring through her soul. When she caught him, his smile grew wider. She was at a loss, this overwhelming feeling arises, she didn’t know what it was but she smiled back at him. His eyes lit up more, she didn’t think that was possible. She decided then, that maybe it having him around wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Give me the sandwich.”

“I promise you won’t regret it Princess.”

She did regret it though, didn’t she?

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Muse

Authors Note:  Hello Tumblr-Verse!  Keep in mind that this is a Modern AU Soulmate story.  Okay, enjoy! 

Sai walked through the open space checking to make sure that everything was in its proper place as it had been 40 minutes ago.  He was nervous but after years of mini-shows at smaller venues, he was finally being featured at a well-known art gallery.  This art collection was his most personal one to date but also his favorite.  He was nervous to share it with the world but it needed to be seen. All his close friends and instructors heaped praises on him, congratulating him for the accomplishment at such a young age.  They told him that it was just the start of bigger and better things. And yet, something felt like it was missing. His brother’s loss was definitely felt but there was something else, someone else, that he felt like should be sharing in his success.  His small group of friends would be there and he was thankful for their presence but something made him feel restless and unable to celebrate as much as he should. He tried to shake off the feeling and focus on the work at hand. The caterers and florist would be arriving soon and he wanted to be present and show himself as a true professional artist. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come tonight?”  Sakura asked for the 10th time. “All of our friends will be there.  It will also be a great way for you to mingle and meet new people.” She was worried about her childhood friend. She had been mostly staying to herself and not wanting to go out and socialize like she used to once returning home. 

“I have a pretty big order to fill then studying.”

“Who would have thought that Yamanaka Ino would have turned into such a nerd.”  She teased her.  

“Oh hush, this doctoral program is no joke.”

“Fine, fine, but you can’t avoid people forever, next time okay?”  She asked hopefully.

Ino worried her bottom lip. She knew that Sakura was concerned for her. “Okay, I promise.”

 Ino sighed placing the last bucket of flowers in the truck.  Her mother had asked her last minute to help with this event.  Thankfully, she had little to no social life so it wasn’t as though she was missing out on anything.  Her coworker had already gone ahead to start setting up and she was coming with the last few bouquets.  The arrangements were gorgeous, apparently, the client himself was an artist and helped design them. She was hoping that she could meet him.  

The gallery was in a nice area of downtown, a modern space with large windows.  When she walked in she was hit by a flood of colors and smells that reminded her of walking through a forest.  It was absolutely ethereal and she felt like she had wandered into another world. The roof was covered in leaves and lights.

“Hey, boss!  Pretty amazing huh?”

Ino nodded greeting her coworker.  “Yes, it’s incredible. How’s it going over here?”

“Good, I’ve got most of it set up, did you need help with the last few arrangements?”

“Just help me bring them in and I’ve got the rest.”

“You’ve got it.”  As much as she wanted to wander through she focused her thoughts on the setup and began arranging what was left according to the schematic that he’d left the shop.

 “This looks incredible, thank you.” Ino smiled at the voice taking a step back proud of her work.  

“Thank you but I just brought the flowers, it takes a creative mind to come up with something like this.”  She looked up and froze meeting dark eyes.  He was so handsome and she felt her face blush brightly. He looked at her with a smile before it dropped and his eyes studied her curiously.

“Have we met?”  She asked peering back at him, something about him seemed so familiar but she was sure that she would have remembered him. It was strange and she could feel her hands shaking.

He shook his head, but even he didn't seem too sure.  “No, uhm at least I don’t believe so.  I’m uh Sai, it's my gallery opening tonight.”

“Oh!  It’s nice to meet you, I’m Ino!  Seriously, it looks incredible in here.  The flowers, plants and lights accent your work perfectly.”

He took her outstretched hand in his and shook it politely.  His hand lingered a little longer against hers, her smaller ones fitting perfectly in his own.  “Thank you, Ino.” He said her name with such sweetness that it made her heart flutter.

“Let me help you with the rest.”  She was about to protest but he took the plant from her hands and placed it in the right spot.  She smiled next to him as they put together the finishing touches.

She couldn’t help but be talkative and friendly, it was in her nature and she felt comfortable with him despite having just met.  Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind her chatter and was willing to converse with her. He was funny, a little blunt and shy but he was kind and complimented even the littlest things that she did and implemented any idea she had.  If she wasn’t so sure, she would have sworn that she’d met him before. There was something that seemed so familiar in how he smiled at her.  

 They both took a step back looking at their hard work in its entirety.  He insisted on walking her hand in hand through the space and it felt terribly romantic and almost like they’d done this many times before.  Sai had created a forest indoors. Every inch was covered in greens or florals. His work blended into the ambiance rather than standing out.  

“You did an amazing job Beautiful.”  He told her affectionately her hand still safely enclosed in his.  She blushed brightly at the compliment and shook her head.  

“I was happy to bring your vision to life.”  She assured him shaking her shoulders.  For some reason, he felt like he knew that she would do this often when she got embarrassed.  

Sai got a thoughtful look on his face looking at her with the same question in his eyes.  “Ino...do you mind if I show you something?”

“Oh, sure!”  She replied thankful to have even a few more moments with him. 

They walked towards the back of the gallery into a small corridor.

“My studio is back here.”  He explained opening up a door.  She stood there shocked and confused.

“Do these flowers mean anything to you?”  She nodded slowly. On every wall were pictures he’d drawn or painted of the same familiar flower. 

“Yes, they are called Purple Bush Clovers, my mom used to plant them in her garden.  Our backyard is covered in them.” She remembered playing amongst them as a child. Her father told her that it was their family’s flower and it meant positive love.

He nodded and drew her into the space.  “When my brother died, I stopped painting in color.   The world seemed very bland without him. I almost gave up painting completely. Then one day I had this dream.  I was drowning and then I saw this light. It morphed into a hand and this beautiful girl was standing there surrounded by light and these purple flowers, she pulled me out.  She told me to go with her and that other people were waiting for me. After that, I started painting in color again. I started to paint this flower over and over.  Not only that, I started to draw and paint her over and over again.” He opened up a sketchbook and showed her pages and pages of her. Some were more detailed than others but no one could deny that it was her.

Her eyes were wide and confused.  “How?”

Sai took her hands in his.  “I don’t know. I kept dreaming of you, I kept seeing you in my dreams and so I started to draw you.  I thought that I had just imagined you. That it was impossible that someone so kind and beautiful existed. Then, I saw you here today like something out of my dreams.”  She carefully reached up and brushed his hair back staring into his fathomless eyes. There was something so familiar about how he looked at her so softly and sweetly.  

“When I saw you, you seemed so familiar, it was like coming home. I don’t know Sai...maybe we met before, somewhere in a land hidden in the leaves.”  It seemed impossible and unlikely and yet seemed so right. It was too much of a coincidence. She’d been drawn back to this town. She had other options and schools but something was calling her back home. Her feelings of restlessness and loneliness seemed to vanish with him standing there.  

He kissed her forehead softly, that feeling of familiarity and home wrapping around him.  “I’d like you to stay tonight as my guest. Please, I’ve been dreaming about you for so long and having you here, well it seems like that missing piece is found.”  He asked her hopefully. Even if she was to reject him he’d easily follow her to the ends of the Earth.

She nodded stepping into his arms before they enclosed tightly around her.  “I’d like that Sai.” She couldn’t help the tears appearing in her eyes. “I’ve missed you.”  It was strange to say to someone that she had just technically met. But, there was a very real part of her that missed this familiar artist.  

He rested his head atop hers, clutching her tightly into him his own heart echoing her sentiments.  “I missed you too Beautiful.”  

 She returned hours later after going home to get ready.  She’d woven fresh flowers into her hair. She wanted to stand proudly next to him while he introduced his art to the world.  He greeted her happy once she returned, relieved to see that she was indeed real and it wasn’t another one of his dreams. 

“Ino, I wanted to show you something before it was revealed to the guests, it's the masterpiece of my collection tonight.”

Sai took her hand in his and led them towards the front and center of the room. 

“It was one of my first dreams of you.”  He explained as she stood there shell shocked.  He placed the painting after she had left. “It was our wedding.  I tried to capture how beautiful you looked at that moment.” Her eyes couldn’t help but water seeing herself reflected in that painting.  She was wearing a brightly colored, flower printed kimono rather than a traditional white one. Surrounding her were thousands of painted flowers that he then framed with real ones.  She looked radiant and happy and she could tell that he’d painted it with so much love and attention.

“I kept that image of you in my head, of you smiling so brightly, so happy and ready to be married to me.  That picture of you helped keep me going on even the most difficult days. I know that it’s completely crazy and probably impossible but I know you.  We’ve lived a life together before this, a crazy, dramatic but amazing one. You’ve been my muse in this lifetime but also every one before.”  

Ino couldn't help but throw her arms around him.  “Truthfully, I've felt a little lost recently. Like something was missing despite achieving all these goals and all the different things I'd set out to do.  Today though, being here with you, working together, just being together. It made me happier than I've been in a long time. I’d like to see where this could go and imagine what we were.”

He very softly and gently kissed her and while it was warm and familiar it was unlike anything he’d felt before.  It was as though the missing pieces of his heart were found. “I’d like that too.”  

“What are you doing here?”  Ino turned and saw her pink-haired friend staring at her confused. 

“What are  you doing here?”

Sakura couldn’t help but look at her strangely.  “It’s my friend Sai’s gallery opening. This is what I wanted you to come to tonight.”

Ino looked at her surprised, one way or another she was destined to meet Sai.  “Seriously?”

“Yes, back to my original question.”

“The flower order I was filling was for him.  We met and talked and he asked me to stay.” She explained.

“Oh…,”  Sakura replied with a grin.

“Stop it!”  Ino blushed brightly.

Sakura just ignored her embarrassment.  “Okay, okay. You know I always thought that you two would get along.  I was using tonight as a way to get you to meet.”

“Can’t fight fate I guess.”  Ino smiled looking over towards where he was greeting various guests.  He seemed to sense her looking at him and sent her a smile. He wanted to stay glued to her side all evening lest he wake up from this dream, but she promised that she’d still be there at the end of the night. 

“It’s not like you to fall head over heels for someone so fast.”  Sakura thought out loud.  

“I don’t know, it’s different with him.  Have you ever met someone and felt like you’ve known them before? Like for some reason, it’s like you’re meeting again for the second time.”

Sakura smiled in understanding.  “Yes, it’s how I felt about Sasuke.”

Ino nodded, her friend had long told her that she felt like she’d met her boyfriend before in some other place or time.  “It’s like that. It’s just like meeting him again in this timeline. It's new but familiar all the same.” Sakura just smiled happily for her friend.  She deserved all the happiness and love this world had to offer. 

 Once all the praises were heaped and congratulations were given Sai and Ino laid in the center of the gallery staring up at the leaf and lights covered roof, their hands entwined between them. 

“I’m proud of you Sai.”  She told him sweetly shifting on her side to look at him.

“Thank you Beautiful.  It was an amazing night and I‘m so happy that you were able to share it with me.  I think that my painting of you is what convinced them to take a chance on me.”  He replied gently playing with her loose strands of hair. He’d dreamed a million times of what it would be like to actually run his hands through her hair and it was far better than he could have imagined. 

“It’s so strange but being with you feels so natural like we’ve done this so many times before.”

He kissed her gently drawing her closer.  “Perhaps it was just fate, we were meant to meet again in this lifetime and I promise you, no matter what, we’ll meet again a million times more.”

 Flashback

 "Sai?  Do you believe in soulmates?"  Ino asked as they laid beneath the stars, shifting closer to him to keep warm.  He placed an affectionate kiss on her head.

He paused thinking about the question.  He had read about the concept in his books before.  "I don't know.  Before you, I doubt that I would have ever believed in something so impossible but you loving me, well that's changed everything that I'd ever believed in."  She smiled sweetly at him her blue eyes sparkling.  She met him in a kiss wanting to use every moment she could to remind him just how much she loved him. 

While the war had ended years ago it still left them with scars and feelings of loss.  It pained her to believe that she had only a finite amount of time with her Love.

Her eyes stared up at the shroud of leaves and the stars twinkling between them.  "I'd like to believe it.  I'd want to believe that even after we pass in this life your soulmate finds their way to you in another."  He smiled at the idea, wanting to believe that they had a million shared lifetimes and a million more to be had. 

"Well when that day comes, I can promise you that I will find you again.  We will always find our way together."  They met in a kiss, a shared promise that no matter where, what universe, or space and time they'd always meet under the leaves.   

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21458557

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

                              Kheleiki Akana, who is known by no other name;                                                   a 23 year old son of Apollo.                He is a co-owner and skateboarding instructor at Aukai Surf&Skate Shop.

FC NAME/GROUP: Kim Jinhwan (Ikon) CHARACTER NAME: Kheleiki Akana AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: June 18th, 1997 PLACE OF BIRTH: Kailua-Kona, Hawaii OCCUPATION: ‘Aukai Surf&Skate Shop (Co-founder-Skateboarding Instructor) HEIGHT: 5’7 WEIGHT: 135lb DEFINING FEATURES: Tattoos; Roman numerals on his left arm, a ‘cool’ band-aid stick n poke on his leg, and a weird little smiley face on his ankle.  

He has numerous scars around his hips, as well as his legs and back. Some areas in his chest as well, all over half a year in the healing process no matter how pink they were.

PERSONALITY: Kheleiki is naturally really flowy, taking every minute like it was another second in a tune that would make up one big song of life. Growing up he had a lot of time to think of the things he wanted to appreciate when he could, so now he was all about good vibes and happy feelings. Expanding those skills, he tends to be the one that everyone almost wants to hate because he says some wild shit but it’s all in love and fun so they go with it. He can’t help being a man who’s a fan of insiders. A “you had to be there” kinda guy.

   “”Don’t do this bro I swear I’m gonna lay you out so hard you choke on your love for me. Got it?” he’s wild but his care is immense. He loves to do things well, and the ability he was born with only helps him do just that since he can only use it for the good of others.

HISTORY: Kheleiki was born into what was once a beautiful household, a happy life with one sister almost the same age, and a gorgeous mother with the softest smile. That smile was ingrained into his eyes even to this day. He had only seen her when he was young though–it was hard to believe he remembered that far back– When he turned 4, he started to understand the differences he got in love when it came to his father. It was long into khel’s years of imprisonment when he figured out that his father had resented him for how much his mother loved him, but at the time he had no idea what was going on, or why he couldn’t see his mother or sister anymore.

    “You won’t steal her from me like he almost did.” He spoke in Hawaiian Khel never got that. He still didn’t understand who *he* was.

When he was ripped from his mother, his father decided the *room* was a better option.

It was cold. Lonely for a while. He was given Mad Libs books, in english because that’s what they were available in there, so his home language wasn’t even his first. He had to learn by filling them out, playing with them for hours on end when he wasn’t finding a way to jam out to his music. That was the only way he kept himself happy. He could hear other people’s voices, which really helped with his loneliness, and he could try and make out words, helping him learn what he should be saying. It did take him a while to figure out which one was the english one, since he had never heard it.

*********************TRIGGER WARNING****************TW**********************

    After a while he got pretty good, but he only knew english and after a while his father started to bring friends over. Sometimes just wanting to talk to Khel, but when they realized they couldn’t they would touch him, getting their feelings out with their hands rather than their words. That went on for years. Progressively worse up until he was 17. He decided he was done at that time. He knew that he had to do something and he had to do it soon, so the next time his father came in the room with food, he bashed him over the head with the closest thing to him, staggering him just enough for him to run out. When he got out the house looked like it had never changed, his eyes scanning too quickly for his mom, only to find her wide eyed. She hadn’t seen him since he was take to the room. His father ran out and straight at Khel, the poor kid had no idea what to do other than to get out of the way, leaving his stumbling father running right into his mom. She fell, her head landing right on the fireplace corner, cracking her skull open.

     Khel watched in horror as his father raged at him for what *he* had done. It was his fault. Because of his selfishness, his mother died in front of him, the only person who was ever kind to him.

   What happened after that only tore khel to pieces, ruined his view on himself and caused him to start to drink every moment he could find one lying around.

     Kheleiki was ripped from all three bodies days later when cops finally searched around, and he was taken to foster care. For there he focused on bettering himself for a year, focusing on everything good in life he could to make being out worth it. To make it worth it to not have his family anymore but to be free.

It weighed on him.

 After a year of foster care, he got his own place, agreeing to go to therapy and group meetings and retreats every week. He followed happily. It helped him learn etiquette with people as well as make some great friends. One of the most amazing people he met was Joshua, the first man to show him how affection worked, even if it was in his own weird way. It was a good way that Joshua’s hilariously raw personality influenced his own personality. He thrived in whatever Shua was serving, and it really helped him in so many ways. He even waited two hours after he left from the retreat just in case he, for some reason, would turn around and come back for him.

   One day he did though, coming back after two years of skype calls and random weekend trips. He came back to stay with him for a while, a long while filled with the best memories he had ever created. What he knew best was that he had a new family now. and it was time for a redo, and a damn good one at that.

PANTHEON: Greek CHILD OF: Apollo POWERS: Kheleiki can expertely play any instrument he picks up. No matter what is maybe; he can also sing in the most angelic voice or the most grungry voice he can muster. Any style he could master in seconds. Being highly empathetic, he can soothe people by using his music to uplift their spirits or even calm them down to a more manageable level for them.

STRENGTHS: When he and another person are completely honest with all feelings. Strengthens the power of his abilities to help others. He can speak better with his music. Khel’s music can heighten his mood. WEAKNESSES: He experienced blackouts and almost comatose state after using his ability for actual feelings. He cannot properly get a good read unless he is close with someone and fully understands their struggles.

[gamsbo]

This goes with the pictures below

It is A Women: Yep and Hear Me Roar (This is for the Young women of today)

As most of you that have read some of my post know that I worked in the oilfield; I have told some of what I did and what happened to me as the “first women”, but here is how in 1974 affirmative action entered my life or how I became the token women.

A week or so ago I was looking for some papers I needed and ran across a magazine (I thought I had junked all the write ups. Guide To The New Texas Frontier Autumn 1982, the article was called Women in the Oilfield.

As stated in the article it started with a $50 dollar bet and stubborn streak when a friend bet me that I would not apply for a roustabout opening at Gulf Oil; I applied because no one was going to tell me I won’t or could not do something. I won the bet and know way could I know how my life would change. Because up to that point in my life “I didn’t know I was different, I just thought I was a human being” no more no less. I was a 30 year old wife and mother of 2. I sure was in for a shock.

I am in my 60’s (update 75 now )and when I look back at that time most of the women I knew were either nurses or school teachers, I did know one lawyer(my sister-in-law who had graduated from the UT Law School in the 50’s I think she said there was 2 women in the class). So I showed up for my first day, wow; I was put in a gang truck with the other 2 affirmative action tokens but I must say they were treated different because they were men.

There was not a-lot of training just get the water can filled up get in the truck , we need to go balance some counter weights. I really put my foot in it a few times that first day or so. On a pump jack there is a rod that is called a polished rod, I ask what that shine pole, didn’t live that down for a long time. So many other things happened I told you some when I wrote Remembering the Oilfield and I said I would tell more later. So here are a few more things that shocked me and at times made me feel less than human.

First let me explain the title of this post ; after about 2 weeks in the field I was up on a pump jack fixing a hose and there were some men working on something about 100 yards away. They keep looking over and then it got the best of them they came over looked you at me and said “it is a woman” I looked down and sang as loud as I could I am Women Hear Me Roar. They walked away shaking their heads.

Continue Part (2)

During the 2008 election I had to wonder how far we had come as women; yes we were lawyers, doctors, judges, engineers, and heads of major companies but the sexism was still there. I listed as governor Palin was called the same names by both men and women that I had been called in the 70s and 80s.

There were so many things, I can remember one day it was so bad I got 3 speeding tickets just trying to get home (I don’t know why he stopped me I was just doing 110) because if I could get home I knew there was someone that liked me there. Things were worse in Mississippi (by this time I was a single mom) they really did not want a women; I can tell you ever dirty job they could find was given to me, from doping pipe to cleaning the men’s bathroom. One guy thought I was really dumb. we had to dig a 2 foot deep by 30 foot long ditch to replace a joint of pipe. Now I know I not real smart but I did know that me digging while standing in it and shoveling the dirt out as versus him stand in front of me with his shovel saying “I will just stand up here and knock the dirt into the ditch for you even I knew I was working hard than him.

Yes Mississippi was bad (I did make a few good friends or at lest men that treated me the way they would want their wife’s or daughter treated) but the stress of Mississippi became so bad that I had a light heart attack; came back to West Texas and went to work for ARCO as a lease operator and later Enserch as a Production Supervisor.

I was offered a position at ENMU to teach Petroleum Technology; I wish I could say things were better but I had three problems:1 my boss put me over all the women allowing then to come to me an discuss their problems with the men teacher, 2. I was show and tell, 3. they were hiring the same men who I had faced when I worked in the field; if you want to add a 4th the students liked me and I also won the so called prestigious Kosa award as the outstanding vocational teacher of the year (I was the first instructor to win the award as a first year teacher).

I could tell you more but I don’t think this is a place to go into some of the sexual things that happened, the total disrespect ; I will tell you one man made a sexual advance toward me and realized that was not what I was about he came back to me and apologized and became came my defended.

In someway I could understand some of what the men felt; a-lot of them had worked for Gulf for 20-30 years and here was this woman making the same amount of money and being interview by Time Magazine and newspapers; this had never happened to them, so yes I could understand that but what I could not and never would understand was how cruel and vulgar some of these men could be, where was the humanity.

Did affirmative action work for me, it got me the job; but what it didn’t do was show the company that hired me how to integrate me into a work force that was dominated by men. The future for women depends on the young women of today. Could it also be different for women because of the young men of today? I think so.

What has happened to me since I left the Oil Field: I went back to school and got a 4 year business degree in 2 ½ years (started with 27 hours) Went to work for Wayland Baptist University as the Assc. Register over the off campus programs; worked towards an MBA (became ill and did not finish still need 9 hours).I took care of a friend that had Alzheimer’s till they died; wrote and self published a book about being a caregiver.

[larissel]

Day 1: Online

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Ship: Baavira

Words: 1550

Summary: Baatar never believed he could ever find a connection to someone right until he received a message from someone he just lost to in Elementals II, the hottest and newest game in the market.

[AO3]

“There’s no way…” Baatar said with his face practically pressed up against his monitor, eyes turning wide, watching with horror as his screen turned red with the words “you have died” plastered on the screen with an ominous music playing in the background before his screen faded to black. “Fuck!” Frustrated, he took his headsets off before throwing it to the side. He leaned back in his seat, blankly staring at the ceiling.

Once his anger have quelled, he straightened himself back up and was only a click away from logging out his gaming account until he noticed there was a message waiting for him in his inbox. He clicked on it and it didn’t take him a second to recognize the messenger, the very one who defeated him this year’s hottest and newest game—the Elementals II. What surprised him was what’s written in the message…

thegreatuniter: Good game :)

He would’ve usually been met with a series of expletives and long messages filled with glaring errors that were normally difficult to take serious of. He stared at the screen for a moment before typing back a reply.

the_colossus: Thanks?

thegreatuniter: Not everyone can play as the nonbending class as well as you did, as the engineer too. I must say, you even also got me.

Baatar found himself smiling, he normally gets ragged for picking the least popular and most difficult class.

the_colossus: Not everyone can control the earth and metal as well as you do too.

It was then and there, a newfound friendship blossomed between the two…and what would soon become one of the most powerful team up.

xxx

thegreatuniter: Another victory for Team Earth Empire!

thegreatuniter: Thanks to you.

the_colossus: But it was your voice that led us to victory, I didn’t do anything.

thegreatuniter: Don’t sell yourself too short.

the_colossus: You’re right. ^^’

thegreatuniter: Of course I’m right, I’m always right.

Baatar rolled his eyes playfully with a smile on his face, wishing he can have that kind of confidence she’s always extruding of. He decided to quickly change the topic, talking about the newest episode of the show they both enjoy. It’s nice to talk to someone who doesn’t seem to be turned off by how his nature.

These past few months they’ve started conversing online with one another and playing together, it was bit of a relief for him ever since he graduated from college with a degree for engineering, without a job at this moment. Though, he often helped his father around at his company begrudgingly; definitely not what he’d signed in for, working as an assistant. But he still, he counted himself as lucky.

Kuvira’s relationship, coming to know her name, with her parents made his own relationship with his mom and dad tamer than it really is. He got to know her a bit just like she got to know him, having learned she’s enrolled in a community college and working as a part time dance instructor.

xxx

thegreatuniter: You single?

Baatar nearly spit out his drink, reading the message that popped onto his screen and was swift on typing out his replies.

the_colossus: I am single.

the_colossus: Why are you asking?

the_colossus: Are you single???

thegreatuniter: Why are you asking?

thegreatuniter: Are you asking me out?

His eyes were still wide and unblinking, and once more, he was quick on typing out his response.

the_colossus: I’m not! >.>

the_colossus: You asked me first!

thegreatuniter: Kidding! I’m kidding haha.  

the_colossus: Not funny. XP

thegreatuniter: My apologies, was just playing around.

thegreatuniter: But yes, I am single…if you want to know.

At that moment, Baatar felt an odd weight was lifted off from his chest, relieved to read those words.

xxx

thegreatuniter: We lost! I can’t believe it! We lost!

thegreatuniter: And what kind of name is Team Avatar?!

the_colossus: It’s just a game.

thegreatuniter: I know it’s just a game!

Baatar flinched, feeling the rage radiating off from reading her reply. It was just as terrifying as it is to hear her yell in his ears from his headsets, but that’s what he likes about her, instilling confidence and fear into their teammates’ hearts; it, however, failed this time around. He had to say, he’s impressed with what the other team had done to push them off a rank even when his pride was almost on the line when someone who also played the engineering class showed him up.

the_colossus: You should’ve sacrificed me.

After all, Team Avatar managed to surround him.

thegreatuniter: And I already said I won’t do it, I could never sacrifice you.

xxx

the_colossus: My parents don’t get me!

the_colossus: They think they do, but they don’t! Ugh!

the_colossus: Why can’t they just actually be there for me for once!

the_colossus: Always treating me like a kid, I’m almost twenty-six!

the_colossus: I am a grown adult! I’m ready!

His barrage of messages went on and on, leaving a long trail of only him and his words with the sound of pinging wildly going off on Kuvira’s end. He felt guilty for forcing her having to deal with the terrible mood he’s in, but so far, she has yet to say anything.

the_colossus: Mother and father think otherwise.

the_colossus: I thought they would be happy for me.

It wasn’t long ago Baatar got a job offer, an offer that would officially kick start his career and finally make degree useful, but it seems his parents didn’t share the same sentiment who had no problem voicing out their thoughts and concern. ‘It’s not fair.’ After all, his brothers and sister gets to do whatever they want.

thegreatuniter: Just talk to them.

the_colossus: You think I didn’t already try? My parents are so damn stubborn, especially my mother. :/

His mother truly is stubborn, hard to ever please. Perhaps it is better now to accept his fate than later, he lets out a dejected sigh at the thought. It didn’t help that he has always been quite insecure too.

the_colossus: It’s like they don’t believe I could do it.

thegreatuniter: Try to talk to them again, don’t let them invalidate you.

thegreatuniter: Don’t sell yourself too short.

Those same words she said to him long ago, it made his heart skipped a beat, a feeling he’s been having for a while now every time they speak to each other in moments like this. Later that night, lying in his bed with the thought of Kuvira running in his mind, his eyes were filled with realization for the feelings he has for her.

“Oh…”

xxx

It’s here. Today is finally the day Baatar gets to meet her – Kuvira – after a year has passed since they’ve struck a wonderful friendship. He was surprise to hear she was coming down to Zaofu days ago where he found out she was interning for his mother during the summer break; a coincidence, remembering how he often ragged on about his parents. He offered to show her around town, waiting for her now.

She was late however, having been nervous since the morning, it didn’t help the fact that she hasn’t even messaged him. He was on the balls of his feet, scanning the crowd searchingly for a familiar face he had seen online. So far, no one he knows.

Maybe something came up for her at the last minute, maybe she was never planning to even come.

‘Who am I kidding?’ It was too good to be true. Just as he was about to leave, a voice called out to him.

“Baatar?” He snapped his head up, swiveling around to see Kuvira standing before him.

“Y-You’re here,” he uttered, feeling his heart beating rapidly.

“I didn’t recognize you,” Kuvira said, examining him from head to toe. “You look different.”

Baatar shifted, blushing when he felt her eyes were on him. He hasn’t updated his social media profiles in a long while now, no longer was he the skinny lad in the few pictures he posted. “Like in a good way?” He couldn’t help it but to ask.

Kuvira nodded her head. “Yes, in a good way.”

“I didn’t think you would come,” he said, licking his dry lips.

“Driver dropped me off at the wrong spot—”

He noticed her face was flush, seeing how she almost sounded like she was out of breath.

“—plus my phone decided to bust on me.” She grumbled out, looking down at her dead phone unhappily. Her eyes moved back up to his then to the bouquet of flowers he was holding, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that for me?”

He nodded his head, rubbing the back of his neck as he held it out to her nervously. “My mother is friends with the florist right across the street…and I remembered you mentioning lilies were your favorite…right? I could be wrong, so let’s forget about this and—”

“No, no, you’re not wrong,” Kuvira said, pressing a finger to his lips before taking the bouquet of lilies. “It’s lovely.”

“So are you ready for this date – I mean – the tour around town?” he corrected himself immediately.

Kuvira laughed, nodding her head before looping her arm around his. “Yes, I’m ready for this date.”

‘Oh yeah, this is way better than winning a conquest battle in Elementals II.’

[binary5tar1117]

Soul Tie

AO3

Word Count: 7989

Tags/Warnings: Hoseok/Jimin, Top Hoseok, Bottom Jimin, first time, angst, with a happy ending, homophobia, smut

A/N: This was written for a monthly writing challenge between me and @kimlinebiased. My prompt was "What happens if I do this?" along with Hoseok and the color red.

Summary: The red line of fate. Ruby strand of eternity. Crimson thread of destiny. Poets tried to describe it in flowery terms but most people just called it the soul tie. The bond between soul mates represented by a shining red thread that only the those tied together could see. It told people they were meant to be together and allowed then to share their strongest emotions directly. Finding the person at the other end of your soul tie was the greatest day in most people's lives.

Jimin wasn't so sure it would be for him

***

At five years old, Jimin saw the invisible red string on his pinky and was filled with awe. He wondered who is soul mate was. Was she pretty like his mom? Would she make treats on his birthday?

Seven year old Jimin saw it with disgust. Girls were gross and weird and so different. Why would he ever want to marry one?

At eleven, Jimin was confused. Maybe girls weren't gross, they could be nice. They weren't so bad to talk to but… his soul mate? A small part in the back of his mind began to worry. Was there something wrong with him? He dreaded the first bits of emotion he might begin to feel through the string in a few years.

By fourteen, Jimin stared at the faint red line terrified. He only saw two options for the person on the end of that string and neither was good. Either it was a girl that he didn't think he could be attracted to or… it was boy. But only people with something wrong with them had a soul mate who was the same gender, right? That's what everyone said. Why would fate tie two people together if they couldn't have kids? That's the whole point of a soul mate.

Sixteen year old Jimin loved dancing. He loved performing. He loved it more than he thought he could ever love a person. So maybe this was his real soul mate. He stopped worrying about the person at the end of the string. He hadn’t felt anything yet. Maybe he never would. If there was no one on the other end of his string and it would never matter.

When Jimin turned eighteen he signed with a music company and got a cold shock of reality. Two boys he'd been training with were caught fooling around. Their contracts were voided and they were immediately kicked out of the dorm. They got called out of practice one day and Jimin never saw them again. He never knew if they were soul mates, but it didn't seem to matter to everyone else. All he heard were rumors and comments about how gross and unnatural it was. Jimin decided he had to do something. He couldn't risk it.

He looked for a way to remove his soul tie. Maybe without it he wouldn't be attracted to other guys. It would mean he would never find his soul mate and risk his whole future for a person he didn't know. People always talked about how happy they were with their soulmate but Jimin couldn't imagine it. He couldn't imagine it was worth everything. He was happy now, why did he need someone else?

So he found a way.

It was a risky procedure and most doctors wouldn't do it without a good reason. Though most people saw their soul tie on the pinky finger of their dominant hand, it came from the heart. It had to be severed at the heart. And a doctor couldn't see another person's soul tie.

Still, Jimin found a doctor willing to do it. He lay on the operating table, conscious but numbed, watching the scope thread up his veins to his heart. It was more than a little unnerving and were he not also slightly sedated he would probably be freaked out watching his own heartbeat.

“Now Jimin, once we get through this valve here, I need you to tell me where the tie is,” the doctor said. “There should be a knot or a bow or something. It's supposed to be along this wall here.” She gestured at the right side of the screen. “Ready?” She waited for Jimin's answer, her features obscured behind the medical mask.

Jimin saw the bright red thread of his soul tie leading through the moving purple flaps.

“What happens if I do this?” His voice sounded far off and small to his own ears, probably from the drugs.

The doctor huffed. “We talked about this before the procedure. It gets rid of your soul tie. It doesn't mean you will be incapable of love or sex or having relationships. It just means you will no longer be tied to your soulmate. You won't ever have to feel what the other person feels.”

“I-I know, I just….what...what happens to them?” he asked quietly.

“If you even have a soulmate her soul tie will fade within a few days. There will be no permanent damage to her either. Most likely she will assume her soul mate died. Now, may we proceed?”

Jimin nodded.

“Try not to move to much,” she scolded. “I'm going in.”

On the screen the camera went passed the flapping valve.

Jimin could see it, a shining red knot tied into the wall of his heart. It was beautiful. The thread was thicker and brighter at the source.

“Okay, I'll go slow and you tell me when I'm next to it.”

Jimin walked the doctor through. Deeper, deeper, back a little bit, up, left, left a little more...and then her scissors were hovering right over it.

“Here?”

Jimin swallowed. If he said yes, he would be free. He would never meet his soulmate and risk his whole future. But… his soul mate would never meet him. He would have to go through life alone. Maybe unlike Jimin, his soulmate wanted to meet him.

It was too late now.

“There.”

The doctor cut, carving out a tiny sliver of the flesh the soul tie was embedded in. Jimin watched the knot dim and fade away. He wanted to look at his hand to see if the string was still there but he couldn't move.

“Did it work?”

Jimin stared at the screen, unable to look away from where his soul tie had once been. He didn't think he felt any different but it was hard to tell with all the medication running through his system.

“Well?” the doctor prompted.

Jimin looked away, trying to ignore the choked feeling in his throat and prickling behind his eyes. “Yes. Yes, it's gone.”

***

A few months later Jimin was introduced to the group he would be debuting with. They already had a name. Bangtan Sonyeondan and Jimin got along immediately with all of them. Well, almost all of them.

The dancer turned rapper Jung Hoseok was an asshole in Jimin's book. The other members all loved him, called him sunshine. His stage name was even J-Hope. Jimin was pretty sure the guy had it out for him though. The only other person who had to spend as much time in dance practice with Hoseok was Jungkook and he was good at everything. Hoseok as the lead dancer was constantly criticizing everything Jimin did, correcting every little thing. Jimin got so mad sometimes he wanted to throw a punch. Sometimes he wondered if Hoseok kept nitpicking just to see if he would.

When Jimin tried to complain about him to the others he got brushed off. Hoseok was only looking out for them. He was the lead dancer, it was his job. It wasn’t personal. Sometimes it didn’t feel that way though.

One day not long before they were scheduled to debut, they all stayed late to practice, Hoseok leading them through the movements since the instructor had long since left.

“Stop,” Hoseok called for what must have been the twentieth time. “Jimin, you jumped too high there.”

Taehyung shut the music off.

“You just said five minutes ago I wasn’t jumping high enough?” Jimin’s temper flared up, exhaustion taking its toll. “Jin isn’t jumping high enough and doesn’t kick like he’s supposed to. Why do you only yell at me?”

Everyone froze.

“I didn’t yell.” Hoseok said calmly and it only infuriated Jimin more. The guy was so perfectly controlled.

“Whatever.” Jimin rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “I’m gonna take a leak. Start without me if you want.”

They did of course. Jimin came back five minutes later and they were halfway through the song. Jimin jumped into place like he’d been there the whole time.

When they finished they started again from the top.

A few more run throughs and they were ready to call it a night.

“Good job everybody!” Hoseok beamed around at them all. “We’re doing great. A couple things, I know I’ve said before. Namjoon, Jin, try to remember your expressions. Sometimes on the more complicated parts you look a little lost. That goes for you too Yoongi. Tae make sure you get that head snap hard enough, it’ll look stupid if you don’t shake the glasses off. Jungkook, don’t look behind you when you back up. Trust that we’ll get out of your way. And Jimin…”

Jimin glared. He’d been perfect, what could Hoseok possibly say?

“You were a little too low on the “don’t know how to live, don’t know how to fly” part. I could see Taehyung and Yoongi behind you.”

Jimin huffed out a breath. He tried to swallow his anger for the millionth time and this time it just wouldn't go down. “I’m in the front for that part, shouldn’t they be matching me?” The whole room tensed, Hoseok just looked at him mildly. “You just hate me for some reason so you’re just looking for something I did wrong.” Jimin was yelling by the time he finished.

“They match each other at the same height every time.” Only Hoseok’s sharpness to his movements when he gestured at the other two gave away his irritation. “You go lower because you’re more flexible.” He stepped closer, not quite into Jimin’s space. “You need to match them because it’s harder for them to match you.” Impatience finally showed on his face. “I’m not looking for stuff you did wrong, I just expect more out of you if your going to be a dancer.”

The words knocked the breath out of Jimin. “If? Going to be?” As if we wasn’t already. Jimin scoffed. His tentative hold on his temper finally snapped and he shoved Hoseok, following after with his fist raised intending to throw a punch.

It never landed because the other members descended. Jungkook and Taehyung grabbed him on either side. Jin stepped between them. Yoongi steadied Hoseok. All of them shouted protests. Hoseok, just looked sad.

“Jimin!” Namjoon’s voice cut through the chaos. “Hoseok was only giving us feedback to make us better. If you’ve got a problem with him, work it out. We’ll never make it as a group if we fight like this.”

Taehyung and Jungkook let Jimin go and he wrapped his arm around himself, sullen. Jimin's fury faded under Namjoon's disappointed gaze. Maybe he was taking it too personally, but why did Hoseok always have to say such mean things?

The other members were all looking at Jimin like he was a failure. He wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Instead he spun on his heel and walked away.

“Jimin!” someone called after him but he ignored it.

He pushed his way into the bathroom, resisting the urge to kick the trash can and tear apart everything in sight. He was a failure. He took things too personally and picked fights. His singing was terrible. He messed up dancing all the time. And he was chubby and ugly. What did he even contribute? He wasn't good enough for this group. They were all so talented. He should just resign now and save everyone the trouble. He'd only hold them back anyway.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. He worked so hard to get here; he'd given up… he swallowed. It didn't matter. It was better for the team of he left and never came back.

He turned back toward the door to leave, going to tell Namjoon he would talk to the managers about quitting in the morning. As he dashed a hand across his cheek the door opened. Hoseok stepped in.

He seemed surprised that Jimin was crying but hid it as Jimin turned away.

“I-” Hoseok’s voice echoed off the tiles. He flinched and lowered it. “I wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, what about?” he asked, not turning around. He hated the nasally sound in his voice that gave away his emotions.

“I'm sorry if I was too harsh,” Hoseok started.

“It's only what I deserve. I suck. I'm the one who should be sorry. Don't worry about it though. I'm quitting tomorrow anyway. I’m sure you can rework the choreo pretty easily without me.”

Jimin was surprised to hear anger on Hoseok’s voice. “What do you mean quitting?” Hoseok snapped. “After all our work together, your just going to leave us?”

“Isn't that what you wanted?” Jimin retorted over his shoulder. “Isn't that why you are always so harsh on me?”

Hoseok sounded taken aback. “Why would I want you to leave? You think that's why I'm more critical of you? Of course not! You're talented Jimin. If I seem stricter, it’s only because I didn’t want to seem like I was favoring you. You’re an important part of the team Jimin. You can’t leave.”

Jimin sniffled, not really sure what to say. He didn’t feel very important right now. He felt like a worthless piece of shit but at the moment it seemed rude to tell Hoseok he was wrong. And, it was nice to hear even if he didn’t believe it. Jimin balled his hands into fist and looked up with his eyes squeezed shut, trying to will away a fresh wave of tears so he could turn around.

His eyes popped open though when Hoseok wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“Don’t go.” Hoseok’s forehead was pressed to the back of Jimin’s neck and Jimin could feel his breath when he whispered the words.

Jimin froze in shock. He was close with Jungkook and Taehyung. He worked out all the time with Jin. Yoongi and Namjoon doted on him. But, Hoseok was always a bit standoffish with him. Jimin couldn’t even remember a high five or hand shake. His heart beat painfully in his chest.

“Please. Don’t go,” Hoseok mumbled again.

“Okay,” Jimin said quietly.

Hoseok seemed to catch himself once Jimin spoke. He dropped his arms and quickly stepped back.

Jimin wiped his eyes and cheeks, sniffling and taking a deep breath. He finally turned around. Hoseok was staring at the floor.

Jimin cleared his throat. “Seems like we were just misunderstanding each other the whole time. Let’s both try to communicate better from now on. If I think you’re being to harsh I’ll try to say something calmly.”

Hoseok looked up. “Please do. I’ll try to be more open with how much I admire you. You really are a good dancer, Jimin.”

Jimin blushed. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not as good as you.” Jimin held out his hand. “So, friends?”

Hoseok took it, smiling. “Friends.”

***

For over a year after that, they were friends. Jimin was able to take Hoseok’s advice for what it was and not as a personal attack. He was even brave enough to offer his own sometimes and Hoseok accepted the comments with a friendly smile. A smile that Jimin now found beautiful instead of annoying. Once Jimin wasn’t being so pissy all the time, Hoseok became one of his closest friends in the group. They were all close, it was impossible not to be the way they lived but maybe because of their fight in the beginning Hoseok and Jimin were usually on the same wavelength. When Jimin was feeling down, Hoseok would always be the one to ask if Jimin wanted cheering up, or just a hug and quiet time. If Jimin was feeling playful, Hoseok was the first person he sought out.

Somewhere before their first studio album release things started to change a little. Jimin wasn’t sure who started, but he was pretty sure it was Hoseok. Jimin hadn’t told any of the members about being attracted to guys or removing his soul tie or any of that. He had even gone out of his way to act like the idea of kissing a guy was gross, and not something he’d been wishing he could do since he was fourteen.

Somehow things with Hoseok had started to get more physical though. The tone of the jokes changed. It started in front of the fans. The screaming was deafening whenever any two of them touched, hugging drove them crazy. So Hoseok made it a point to back hug Jimin whenever possible and call him cute. Jimin didn’t mind that so much as the neck kisses that sent shivers down his spine.

But it happened even when there were no fans or camera's. Hoseok was always touching him, a hand on his back or shoulder when they stood next to each other. If they were sitting it was Jimin's thigh or Hoseok would pull him into his lap.

Sometimes Jimin made a show of resisting, especially if there were people watching. Sometimes though he just relaxed into it. The closeness felt good. And they all hugged and cuddled all the time, it wasn't any different with Hoseok. ...so why did Jimin feel like it was?

Jimin watched Hoseok with the other members for a while, trying to gage if it was in Jimin’s head. It wasn't. Hoseok definately wasn't as touchy with Namjoon and the older members. With Taehyung and Jungkook he was touchy, but usually more aggressive and teasing. With Jimin, Hoseok could be so soft. He'd pull Jimin into his lap and snuggle him like a teddy bear, pepper soft kisses across his neck and shoulder, stroke whatever bit of Jimin his hands were on, even finding their way under his shirt to his side's sometimes.

No one else seemed to find this weird. And Jimin kind of liked it. He more than liked it. He was terrified that one day Hoseok would realize this casual friendly cuddling was turning Jimin on.

Instead of talking about it like Jimin promised to do, he let the tension build up till he snapped.

Jimin was napping on a couch in a lounge at the company waiting for his turn to record. The impending album release meant long nights.

Hoseok came into the lounge with Namjoon and Yoongi. They were taking a break from working on a track. Namjoon and Yoongi decided to go find some lunch but Hoseok waved them off and climbed onto the couch with Jimin.

Jimin grunted when Hoseok's movement woke him up and he whined his displeasure.

Hoseok chuckled, “so cute Jimin,” and kissed his cheek.

Jimin grunted again and begrudgingly made room on the couch. Hoseok tucked himself behind Jimin so they were spooning and wound one arm over Jimin's waist. The warmth felt nice. The air conditioning had made Jimin a little cold and Hoseok's body heat was as good as a blanket.

Jimin couldn't help the sigh that escaped him.

Jimin had started drifting back to sleep when he felt Hoseok’s fingers wiggling against his side. Jimin squirmed, humming in annoyance.

Hoseok laughed again.

“Stop. ‘M tired,” Jimin mumbled. He was acutely aware that his movements were pushing his hips back against Hoseok’s. He tried not to focus on whether he could feel anything against his ass.

Hoseok let him start to drift off again before his fingers found there way under Jimin’s shirt this time. He brushed them teasingly over his hip, following the line of Jimin’s jeans.

Half asleep, it felt good. Jimin almost expected Hoseok to dip under his pants. He shivered in anticipation and let out a soft moan. The noise woke him up fully and he shot up.

He stood and turned to face Hoseok on the couch. “Stop touching me! Leave me alone already. Why are you all over me all the time?”

“What? Jimin, I’m sorry.” Hoseok looked confused and hurt, which just made Jimin feel like a jerk for exploding.

He huffed, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.” He turned away, intending to find somewhere quiet to think.

“Jimin, wait!” Hoseok called after him.

Jimin stopped. He turned back with his arms wrapped around himself defensively. He felt stupid and wished he hadn’t said anything.

“I… I don’t know why I want to touch you all the time. I just… I feel better when I do.” As Hoseok spoke he looked equally as awkward and defensive sitting on the couch fiddling with a hole in his jeans. “I didn’t mean to upset you though. I’m sorry. Truly. I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore.”

Jimin sat down. “No, it’s okay. I like it sometimes. Just sometimes it’s…” A turn on? Makes me want to kiss you? Jimin wasn’t about to say any of that. He shrugged. “Too much? I don’t know…”

Hoseok nodded in understanding.

They sat in silence for a minute. Jimin really didn’t want Hoseok to never touch him. He inched closer to Hoseok on the couch so their thighs were touching

“How about, if I say stop you know I mean it, but anything else is just playing?” Jimin suggested.

Hoseok laughed a little. “You make it sound like something really kinky. But okay.”

Jimin beamed, throwing his arms around Hoseok and laying his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for yelling,”

Hoseok pulled Jimin closer against him with one arm and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t be sorry. I should have realized it was bothering you. Don’t be afraid to talk to me.”

“Okay,” Jimin mumbled partially from embarrassment but also because he was falling asleep again.

Hoseok peeked down to see Jimin was nearly passed out again. “Let’s just nap until someone needs us.”

Jimin hummed in agreement and they laid down.

Things would have continued fine for a while if it weren’t for the choreography for one of their songs. They were all paired off and pretended to kiss while Yoongi did his rap. Of course Jimin was paired with Hoseok. In practice, it just felt silly. They all went over the top with it half the time and got scolded by the choreographer.

They didn’t count on the fans.

During the tour, they went wild over it.

It drove them to get crazier with it each performance, till Jimin, instead of bringing his arm up to cover his mouth for the fake kiss he grabbed Hoseok and spun him over to the bed. Jimin was sure he saw something else in the look of surprise Hoseok gave him when he put his leg up on the bed before he turned to the audience.

They all laughed about it later but that look haunted Jimin… until the next concert.

Jimin wasn’t sure he could handle that look again, so he wasn’t planning on doing the same thing. This time though it was Hoseok throwing him on the bed instead. The split second of Hoseok looking down at him like that was even worse.

Jimin was quiet later when the other members were talking about the performance. Things with Hoseok had always been a little different than with the rest of the members. Was there a reason for that?

“Why do they go so wild for that part?” Jungkook asked.

The other members laughed at his naivete.

First it was the fighting, and then the touching. Jimin always responded differently to anything Hoseok did. Was it the same for Hoseok? Jimin tried to remember.

“If we aren’t their soulmate, the next best thing for a fan is to imagine we’re each others,” Yoongi explained.

“That’s just… weird,” Jungkook insisted, obviously still confused. “You’re all like blood brothers. If we were soulmates, it would be too weird.” He considered a moment. “I’m also not into guys so that would be weird too.”

Taehyung ruffled his hair laughing.

Maybe it was? Jimin had noticed already Hoseok was touch-ier with him. Did Hoseok have feeling for him? Did Jimin have feelings for Hoseok? It was a stupid question. Jimin really couldn’t deny anymore that he was at least attracted to Hoseok. And their friendship was important to him. So, did he want to be more than friends?

“Well I am into guys and I would still think it was weird if any of you were my soulmate.” Yoongi said. “I’m glad I’m the one on the sofa.”

Jimin snapped out of his thoughts. “Wait, what?” He was louder than he meant to be and everyone stared at him.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know? I thought I told everyone before debut. I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

“No. You never told me. I think I would remember that!”

Yoongi looked even more confused at Jimin making such a big deal over it.

“Is it a problem, Jimin?” Namjoon asked, clearly interpreting his outburst as Jimin being homophobic.

“No! Not at all. I was just surprised.” Jimin looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

Yoongi shrugged. “No big deal.”

“But,” Jimin knew he should let it drop but just couldn’t. “What would you do if you met your soulmate? You can’t do what we do and be gay.”

Yoongi frowned. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

Jimin had to hide a hysterical bubble of laughter. It was certain to be interpreted wrong. Jimin spent all his teenage years thinking about it and even had his soul tie removed. And Yoongi just didn’t care?”

“I’m bi though, so my soulmate might be a girl. But even if it is a guy,” Yoongi shrugged, “we aren’t allowed to date anyway. We’d make it work. That’s what makes soulmates special right?”

Jimin felt a pang in his heart and was quiet.

“Do you guys ever wonder about your soulmate?” Taehyung asked the group. “I was feeling down the other day. Just so tired. But where ever my soulmate was she was really happy. It made me smile. I want to meet her.”

“They say the more feelings you feel through the soul tie the sooner you’ll meet. I’ve never felt anything,” Jungkook commented.

“That’s because you’re a baby.” Namjoon ruffled his hair and turned back to Taehyung. “I bet she was looking at photos of you. She’s probably army.”

“Or she’s a fan of another group. Wouldn’t it be funny if she was pining over another group and hoping one of them is her soul mate and then she gets you.” Jin laughed at the idea but Taehyung frowned.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Jin insisted. “What about you Hoseok, you’re quiet over there. Do you ever think about your soul mate?”

Jimin froze. Somehow in his musings he’d forgotten that Hoseok might have a soul mate out there.

“Ah,” Hoseok laughed sadly. “I think they died. I don’t have a soul tie anymore.”

The group was suddenly subdued.

“You never told us,” Namjoon said softly.

Hoseok shrugged. “It never came up.”

“I’m sorry.” Taehyung gave him a hug.

“Ah, it happened a while ago. I think they must have been sick or something because I got sad and scared feelings a lot. And then one day, it just disappeared.”

“W-When?” Jimin stutted. The others gave him a dirty look for asking.

“A few months before they brought us all together. So a couple years ago I guess.” Hoseok answered. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make everyone sad. Let’s talk about something else.”

They moved on the talking about their excitement for their next tour stop. Most of them had never left Korea so getting to see the world was a common talking point for them. It made it easy for Jimin to sink back into his thoughts.

He liked Hoseok. He suspected Hoseok liked him. Hoseok’s soul tie had disappeared around the same time Jimin had his removed. Could they have been soulmates? Jimin’s heart ached. If they had been, what did it mean now?

It didn’t matter if Hoseok didn’t like him that way.

Jimin cringed. The easiest way to find out would be to ask, especially if he confessed first. But, that could be disastrous. Not just for him but for the whole group if things got awkward.

Jimin sighed. He owed Hoseok the truth, consequences be damn. He’d done so many stupid things out of fear. He wanted to do the right thing for once.

He had to find the right time though.

He waited a while for the time to seem right. The tour was too busy and if something went wrong he didn’t want to to affect performances.

The longer he waited the more sure he was though. He got more physical with Hoseok, not letting his fear hold him back. He’d sneak up behind Hoseok and put his head on his shoulder while his hands found there way under his shirt to grab his hips, fingers tracing small circles against the smooth skin. Hoseok always leaned back into him. A couple of times Hoseok turned around and wrapped his arms around Jimin’s neck, pulling him close and sighing contentedly.

Jimin also spent more nights than not in Hoseok’s bed. He’d never liked to sleep alone in the first place but instead of waiting for Jungkook and Taehyung to come to him, or going to one of the other members, Jimin would just crawl into bed with Hoseok before they even went to sleep. It got to the point that when the other younger members were looking for Jimin they started with Hoseok.

One night, after the tour had ended and they had a short break to recover before they were expected to start working on the next album, Jimin decided there wouldn’t be a better opportunity.

The lights were off and he was tucked into the curve of Hoseok’s body but neither of them had fallen asleep yet. It was harder to fall asleep when they weren’t dead tired.

“Hey,” Jimin whispered.

“Mmm?”

Jimin rolled over, Hoseok’s hand still resting on his waist. He could make out Hoseok’s features in the light from the street lights. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled softly when his eyes focused on Jimin’s face.

Jimin’s stomach did a flip and the words he was going to say got suck in his throat.

“What is it?” Hoseok asked. He reached up to stroke Jimin’s hair. “Are you feeling okay?”

Jimin nodded, still unable to speak.

“You look like you’re gonna cry or be sick or something Jimin, what is it?” Hoseok cupped his face. “You’re going to worry me.” He pressed his lips together almost smiling.

“I like you,” Jimin blurted.

Hoseok look surprised for a moment and then smiled. “I like you too. Is that all?”

“No,” Jimin shook his head. “I like you.”

Hoseok stared at him wide eyed and confused.

“I-” Jimin flounder. “Like I want to kiss you right now. I like you.”

Understanding dawned on Hoseok’s face, followed by sadness. Jimin’s heart plummeted.

“Jimin, you have a soulmate somewhere. I like you too but, I can’t-” Hoseok swallowed. “I can’t start something with you only to have you leave me and know I’ll never find someone else.”

“But I won’t. I-” Jimin rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “I had my soul tie removed.”

Hoseok gasped. It would have been comical in a different situation but at the moment it really wasn’t.

“That’s really dangerous! Why would you do that?”

“Because I wanted to be an idol. And I’m gay. I thought it would be better to just never find my soulmate. I didn’t want to find someone who would make me risk everything.” He turned to look at Hoseok. “But then I met you. And now…”

Hoseok smiled sadly. “Jimin. I don’t know what to say. If being an idol was so important to you, than why risk it for me? I’m not even your soul mate. And maybe you’ll still find him somewhere.”

“I think I have.” He took Hoseok’s hand and held it tight. “I had my soul tie cut out a few months before we met. The same time you said yours disappeared.”

Hoseok looked pained. “That could just be coincidence.”

“Even if it is, what does it matter? If your soulmate is dead and mines lost to me forever… If we make each other happy… then why not?” Jimin sat up on one arm to look down at Hoseok. He was surprised to see tears in his eyes. He used his free hand to cup Hoseok’s cheek and brush away a stray tear. “Why are you crying?”

Hoseok sniffled. “In the last two years, I’d gotten used to the idea that I would never find someone who would make me as happy as you do. But now-”

Jimin couldn’t take it anymore. He learned down pressed his lips to Hoseok’s. Hoseok wound a hand in Jimin’s hair, kissing him back.

“Ow!” They both flinched.

Jimin clutched at his heart and then stared at his hand. He sat back on his feet so he could hold his hand out in awe. A thin strand of sparkling red thread was knotted around his pinky. Jimin followed the trail with his eyes. It used to disappear a few feet away from him but now he could see it tied to Hoseok’s outstretched hand.

“What does this mean?” Jimin wondered, eyes wide with shock.

Hoseok sat up and grabbed Jimin’s hand. “We’re soul mates!”

“How? I-” Jimin shook his head. “It was supposed to be permanent.”

Hoseok tried to pull away, his face falling.

“No, I’m glad,” Jimin threw his arms around Hoseok’s neck, tackling him back onto the bed. “I’m so happy.” He smiled so wide, Hoseok’s surprised face disappeared behind his cheeks. Hoseok pulled him into kiss.

For the first time Jimin felt the connection through his soul tie. Jimin was glad with the turn of events but his feelings were tainted with guilt at his actions, the sadness he’d put them both through. Hoseok’s happiness was pure. He wasn’t angry so Jimin let the feeling wash over him.

Hoseok pulled him close as they kissed, one hand around his waist and one at the back of his neck. He held Jimin so tight he felt like he could barely move but he didn’t care he didn’t want to be anywhere else. They way Hoseok was kissing him was sending shivers all over his body. Jimin had only ever shared awkward kisses with girls in middle school. It had been years of only dreaming of what this could feel like.

Hoseok loosened his hold enough to gently stroke his hand through Jimin’s hair as his tongue explored Jimin’s mouth. He let his other hand travel over Jimin’s side and down to grip his hip. Jimin moaned when Hoseok pulled Jimin down the grind against him.

Hoseok rolled them so he was on top. Jimin spread his legs instinctively, locking his ankles behind Hoseok’s ass and grinning up at him. Hoseok stared down at him in wonder.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hoseok murmured.

Jimin bit his lip and looked away in embarrassment. It gave Hoseok the opportunity to kiss Jimin’s neck. He dragged his lips along the line of Jimin’s jaw back to his ear and down the column of his throat. He pulled the loose collar of Jimin’s sleep shirt aside to nibble at Jimin’s collar bone.

Jimin was lost in the sensation. He shuddered, nervous and excited all at once.

Hoseok pulled back, waiting till Jimin turned to see the look of concern in his eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

Jimin nodded. “I know. I want to. I’m just nervous.” He looked away. “I’ve never done this before. Or actually anything. I was too scared to even think about it. I have no idea what I'm doing. Do you? Have you ever…”

Hoseok nodded. “There was this guy in highschool…”

“We don't have to talk about it right now,” Jimin said quickly. “I just, I don’t know what to do. I mean, I know how it supposed to work. I’ve never actually done it so, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Jimin was babbling and he knew it. Fortunately Hoseok leaned forward and kissed him, shutting him up.

“You don’t have to do anything but tell me what feels good and what doesn’t. We’ll go slow. Okay?”

Jimin nodded and reached for him, pulling him down for another kiss. Hoseok hands traveled over Jimin’s body, coaxing Jimin out of his clothing piece by piece. He peppered kisses over Jimin’s skin as it was revealed, making Jimin shiver and gasp.

Hoseok sat back to pull his own shirt over his head. Jimin ran his hands tentatively over Hoseok’s chest. He closed his eyes which made it easier for Jimin to look at him. He had seen Hoseok shirtless before but now he was allowed to look.

“Shit.” Hoseok said suddenly. “There is one problem,” he smiled ruefully. “I don’t have any lube.”

Jimin didn’t get a chance to respond before Hoseok’s expression changed. “Oh! Be right back.” He scrambled off the bed and dashed for the door. He paused halfway there to stare at Jimin mostly naked and cheeks flushed laying on the bed. “Don’t move.” He disappeared out the door.

Jimin had just enough time for the air to start cooling his overheated skin and wonder where Hoseok was before he was back. He climbed onto the bed a half empty bottle of lube in his hand.

“Where did you get that?” Jimin asked as Hoseok’s warm body covered his again.

“Namjoon-” Hoseok started but Jimin shook his head.

“Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

Hoseok laughed. “No, you don’t.” He brushed the hair off Jimin’s forehead, his eyes wandering over Jimin’s face till they landed on Jimin’s lips. “Now where were we.”

He leaned down to kiss Jimin, lips and tongues meeting until Jimin was lost again. Hoseok kissed down Jimin’s neck again, swirling his tongue against Jimin’s collar bone, making him sigh. Hoseok sat back. Jimin almost whined until he realized Hoseok was reaching for the band of Jimin’s underwear. He lifted his hips when Hoseok pulled, freeing his erection. Hoseok ran his hands up Jimin’s bare thighs and over his hips. He rest his hands there, thumb rubbing circles into Jimin’s hip bones.

“How are you so beautiful?” Hoseok whispered.

He met Jimin’s eyes and leaned down to kiss down Jimin’s chest and over his stomach, pausing every so often to swirl his tongue against the sensitive skin. The lower he got the more tense Jimin was.

“Relax, baby, want you to feel good. If something doesn’t, just tell me okay?”

Jimin nodded.

Hoseok pinched his side and Jimin flinched.

“Ow. That hurt,” Jimin complained, frowning down at Hoseok in confusion.

“Just checking.” Hoseok grinned back at him.

Jimin rolled his eyes, then gasped as Hoseok licked a long stripe over Jimin’s cock with the flat of his tongue and swirled it to gather the pre leaking at the tip. He looked up at Jimin, keeping eye contact as he swallowed and dipped back down. This time he wrapped his hand around Jimin’s cock and sucked the tip into his mouth.

Jimin moaned, bucking up into the wet heat. It was better than he could have imagined. Hoseok’s lips were soft and plush as they moved over his cock. Jimin couldn’t help the sighs and moans that escaped him.

Hoseok only slowed the bobbing of his head as he pushed Jimin’s legs further apart and flicked the bottle cap open. A moment later Jimin felt Hoseok’s slicked fingers brush against his hole.

He tensed at the unfamiliar feeling but tried not to. It was definitely easier with Hoseok’s tongue massaging the underside of his cock. Hoseok only rubbed against the furled muscle till Jimin really started to relax.

Jimin let out a high pitch noise when Hoseok finally pushed one finger inside him just past the first knuckle and even he wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain. It didn’t exactly hurt but it felt a little weird, he told Hoseok as much.

“It does at first. You’ll get used to it,” Hoseok promised.

Jimin nodded, trusting.

Once Jimin had relaxed enough, Hoseok added a second finger. Along with Hoseok’s mouth almost never leaving his cock, Jimin was starting to feel needy and desperate. Hoseok was either distracted or intentionally going slow enough that Jimin wasn’t going to be able to come from his mouth alone.

Hoseok scissored his fingers and swirled his tongue around the head of Jimin’s cock. Jimin whined.

Hoseok pulled off. “Did that hurt?”

“No, no. It feels good but,” Jimin made a high noise in the back of his throat. “Not enough. I need...more.”

Hoseok gave a short laugh and Jimin could feel his breath against his cock. “So needy already baby?” He kissed Jimin’s stomach. “Just want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

Hoseok pulled his fingers out and Jimin whimpered. He leaned over and grabbed a pillow and got Jimin to lift his hips so he could tuck it underneath him. He pushed Jimin’s knees up towards his chest so Jimin was nearly folded in half.

“It’ll feel different this way. More.”

Jimin bit his lip and nodded.

Hoseok pushed two fingers into his relaxed hole and this time he angled them to hit against Jimin’s sweet spot. Jimin jumped the first time he hit it.

“I told you more. Does it feel okay?” Hoseok asked.

Jimin had to think about it. It was different. Almost painful in a way but good. He still didn’t think he could come from it though and that was all that was on his mind.

“It feels, ahh,” he moaned when Hoseok brushed against it again. “I feels good but, I want to come.”

“Fuck, okay. You’re almost ready. Can you wait just a bit more for me baby? You’re doing so good.”

Jimin nodded.

Hoseok added a third finger. The stretch burned but it distracted Jimin from his aching cock. He moaned and Hoseok face looked like he could come from the sound alone.

After a few pumps the burn started to ease. Hoseok pulled his fingers out, he quickly wiggled out of his underwear and slicked his cock. “You ready?”

“Yes,” Jimin whispered.

Hoseok propped himself over Jimin’s bent body, leaning down to kiss him, open mouthed and sloppy. Jimin felt his cock nudge against his hole and tried not to tense. Hoseok pushed in slowly. When he first got passed the ring of muscle they both moaned. It didn’t hurt like Jimin was expecting.

“Fuck, fuck fuck.” Hoseok had his eyes squeezed shut as he continued to push in.

When he finally bottomed out, they shared a sigh. Hoseok opened his eyes to look at Jimin’s face.

“Do you feel okay?” Hoseok asked.

Jimin nodded. “It’s-” he searched for a word to describe it. “Full. Good.” He reached up to run his hands through Hoseok’s hair. He realized he’d contributed very little in this experience but he hope there would be many opportunities to reciprocate. “What about you?”

Hoseok huffed a laugh. “Fuck, baby you feel amazing.”

Now that he thought about it Jimin could feel Hoseok’s arousal through the soul tie. Or maybe it was his own reflected back? He couldn’t tell but it didn’t matter. It was all the same now.

Hoseok’s face got more serious. “ I’m- I probably won’t last long.”

“I don’t think I could take long right now anyway. Make me come, please?” Jimin whined the last sentence sounding needier than he meant to.

“Of course.” Hoseok stared at his face still not moving. “Jimin, you know I love you right?”

Jimin blushed. They were soulmates now. Jimin could have assumed, but he didn’t. He smiled. “I love you too.”

Hoseok kissed him then, fierce and deep. He started to move with slow deep thrusts.

He sat back shifting his position so he could wrap a hand around Jimin’s cock and stroke it in time with his movements. It also shifted the angle so he hit that sensitive spot everytime.

With all the stimulation Jimin couldn’t help the moans that escaped him on every thrust, high and desperate. It was almost too much. It felt like his body was about to shatter and he tried to fight it. Then he remembered he was with his soulmate, his best friend, Hoseok. He let go, Hoseok’s name on his lips, his whole body tensed with the force of his orgasm and his vision went white.

Distantly he was aware of Hoseok whispering praise, chansing his own orgasm. Jimin pulled the distant parts of himself back together enough to watch Hoseok come apart above him. His face scrunching up and softening as he whispered Jimin’s name like a lifeline.

Hoseok leaned down to press his forehead to Jimin’s shoulder as he caught it breath. Once he had, he pulled out and rolled to the side. Jimin watched his chest heave and took in the sweat that beaded along his temples. He was so beautiful, Jimin felt it pull at his heart.

Hoseok looked over and smiled, stupid and relaxed. “I should get you something to clean up.”

Jimin flung and arm and leg over Hoseok’s body keeping him in place. “Nuh-uh”

Hoseok laughed and flinched. “You have come all over your stomach. And now I do too.”

“So?”

“So it’s way worse to clean up later.”

Jimin sighed at the truth. “Fine. But I’ll get you something since it’s mostly my mess.”

Jimin clambered awkwardly on loose limbs to the bathroom and cleaned himself up. He brought a warm washcloth back with him for Hoseok.

Once they were cleaned the snuggled back in bed much like they had been before for Jimin confessed, only this time with much less clothing.

Hoseok kissed the back of Jimin’s hair and they started to drift to sleep.

“Jimin,” Hoseok’s voice tugged Jimin back to consciousness.

“Mmm?”

“If you… If you change your mind and deciding having a soulmate isn’t worth the risk, just tell me okay.”

Jimin started to protest but Hoseok cut him off.

“I don’t want to force this on you. It’s going to be complicated. We’re not going to be able to be open with it… for a while. Maybe never. And it’s going to feel like there are eyes everywhere and anything could give us away. That was always a risk I was willing to take but, if it’s not something you want to do. I’ll respect that.”

Jimin rolled over in Hoseok’s arms. “I was stupid to ever get my soultie removed. I never want it to go away again, especially now that I know who’s on the other end.” He laughed softly. “I used to be so scared about who I was tied to. I was terrified it would be someone who wasn't worth the risk. But Hoseok, you are worth the risk and more. If we get caught and ostracized, we’ll still have each other. That’s all I care about. And it’s all I cared about before we were tied together. I confessed because I was willing to risk it. You were worth the risk. You always will be. And who knows, maybe a day will come we won’t have to hide it. But even if it doesn’t, I don’t care. I’ll still be with you.”

Hoseok was quiet after Jimin’s speech but they could both feel the emotions flowing through the tie, fear, regret, anxiety, but above it all, love. Their love was stronger than anything that might hold them back.

Hoseok nodded to himself and pulled Jimin into a soft sweet kiss. They broke apart after a moment.

“Let’s go to sleep, baby,” Hoseok whispered.

Jimin smiled at the pet name and tucked himself against Hoseok’s chest. They were both asleep in minutes.

[auronevardell]

Crossed Swords: Chapter 1

Merry Christmas @beatricemontague.  Hope you enjoy the fic.  I didn’t quite get finished writing it, sorry.  Here is the first chapter and I should have the rest done within the week.  @owarinosecretsanta

Fandom: Seraph of the end; Owari no Seraph

Pairing:  Mika/Yuu

Rating:  Mature for angsty situations and language

Tags: original character death, car accident, soulmate AU; alternative universe, angst; soulmate AU identifying marks. 

Note:  In this world when you touch your soulmate for the first time the matching marks on your wrist color and you must be in constant contact with your soulmate for 24 hours.  If you lose contact, then both of you will be in extreme pain. After the bonding is completed, you still can’t be very far apart from your soulmate although the distance increases with time.

Chapter 1:  Friends

Mikaela’s mother smiled as she watch a blonde head disappear down the hallway followed closely by a dark one. Laughter rang through the halls of the house.

It’s good that Mika finally found a friend.  He was such a sullen boy before.

She called, “Boys, it’s time for dinner.  Come wash your hands.”

The two boys can running into the kitchen.  Mika let Yuu wash his hands first since he was company.  After they got cleaned up, Mika’s mother handed them each a plate of food and they sat down at the dinner table with Mika’s father and mother.

His father asked, “How was school today?”

Mika replied, “Good.”

“Did you finish your homework?”

Yuu answered, “Yes, sir.  We did. First thing when we got back from school.”

Mika’s father replied, “Good.”

When the boys finished their dinner, they asked to be excused from the table.

Mika’s mother said, “You may be excused, but Yuu will have to go home in about an hour.  It is a school night, after all.”

Mika said sadly, “Yes, mother.”

Yuu asked, “Wanna play video games until I have to go?”

Mika, perking up, replied, “Sure.  Race you to my room.”

The boys took off running towards Mika’s room.

An hour later Mika’s mom came to Mika’s room.  

She said, “It’s time to go, Yuu.  I’ll walk you home.”

Yuu replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

Mika said, “I want to go, too.”

His mother laughed, “Okay.  It’s not like you won’t see him tomorrow.”

Mika and his mother walked Yuu to his house.  They knocked on the front door and Yuu’s mother answered.

She asked, “Did he behave today?”

Mika’s mother answered, “He was fine.  He finished his homework and has had dinner.”

Yuu’s mother said, “Yuu, you’d better say thank you.”

Yuu said, “Thank you for letting come over.”

Mika’s mother said, “You are more than welcome.  See you both later.”

Yuu’s mother nodded and they went inside.  Mika and his mother walked back to their house which was only a couple of houses down from Yuu’s family’s home.

***

The Next Day

Yuu’s father dropped his son off at school like normal.  Mika was waiting out front for his friend to arrive.  Once Yuu was out of the car, the boys ran off to the playground to wait for school to start. Yuu’s father smiled as he pulled away from the curb.

Several hours later. . .

Yuu was nervous when they called him out of class.  He had been instructed to go to the director’s office.  

Am I in trouble?  I can’t remember Mika and I doing anything that would get us in trouble.  And I have been bringing my grades up with Mika’s help.

Yuu took a deep breath as he reached for the handle of the door to the office. When he entered the office he saw his uncle, Guren, standing there.  

Why is he here?  Where is my mom and dad?

When Yuu entered the office Guren looked at 10 year old Yuu and said, “Yuu, there has been an accident.”

Yuu, scared, asked, “Are Mom and Dad okay?”

Guren shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, son.  They died in the accident.”

Yuu looked stunned for a moment and then burst into tears. Guren picked the boy up and held him until his tears subsided.

I don’t know how to do this.  I am no good with kids.  But there is no one else.  His mother had no relatives.  I am all the family that he has.  Poor kid.  Somehow we’ll survive this.  I hate to move him, especially now, but I can’t move here and still work.

Guren said, “You are going to come and live with me. I came to get you, to take you back to where I live.”

Yuu nodded but asked, “Why can’t we stay here?  I have friends.”

Guren said, “I know, son, you can write them.  I can’t move here because of my work.”

Guren sighed as Yuu started crying again. He signed the boy out of school and made the necessary arrangements for his paperwork to be transferred to the school where Guren lived.  Guren took Yuu to his car and buckled the boy into the backseat.  When they started driving, Yuu very quickly realized that they were not going to his house.

Yuu asked, “Where are we going, Uncle Guren?”

Guren replied, “To my house.”

Yuu asked, “But what about my stuff?”

Guren replied, “I am having someone pack it up and bring it to my house.  I can’t be away from my job long enough for us to do it.  I went there earlier and grabbed some of your clothes.”

Yuu said, “Oh.”

But I didn’t get to say goodbye to Mika.  I am going to miss him.  How am I . . . What is he going to think?  Will I ever see him again?

***

Mika watched as a moving truck pulled up to Yuu’s house.

Mika asked his mother, “Is Yuu moving?”

His mother answered, “He has gone to live with his Uncle.”

Mika, confused, asked, “Why?”

His mother replied, “His parents were in an accident.”

Mika said, “Oh.”

But he didn’t even say goodbye.  I thought we were friends. I can’t believe he is never coming back.  What will I do without my friend?

****

Mika looked into the mailbox disappointedly.

I had hoped he would write me.  We were friends, right?  At least I thought so.  Why doesn’t he write me? Or call?  I miss my friend.

Mika’s mother watched the dejected boy come in from checking the mail.  He drug his feet up to his room and was silent at dinner.

He has become so sad and closed off.  I wish Yuu would write him or something.  It would make a real difference to Mika.  I don’t know what to do for him.  This is just a bad situation all the way around.

That night she heard Mika crying in his room.

My poor baby.

Eight Years Later. . .

Mika looked disbelievingly across the quad at the dark haired boy with green eyes.

Is that?  It can’t be, can it?  After all these years, who would have thought we would have attended the same military college?

He scowled in the direction of his childhood friend.

He never even wrote me after he left.

Yuu suddenly looked up and green eyes met blue. Mika blinked and rapidly looked down.

I will not let him get to me.  

Yuu’s friend, Yoichi, noticed the strange interaction.

Yoichi asked, “Do you know him?”

Yuu replied, “I used to.  We were childhood friends.”

Yoichi asked, “What happened?

Shiho said, “I am sure it was Yuu’s fault, whatever it was.”

Yuu scowled at Shiho but said, “This time you are right. It is my fault that we are not friends anymore.”

Yoichi asked, “What happened?”

Yuu sighed and replied, “My parents died in a car accident and I had to move in with my uncle.”

Yoichi said, “But that couldn’t be helped.”

Yuu said, “Yes, but I never wrote him after I left.”

Yoichi asked, “Were you two close?”

Yuu nodded.

Shiho asked, “Then why didn’t you write to him, you dumbass?”

Yuu stuttered, “I. . . don’t know.  At first I was just trying to catch up with what was happening and then it had been so long. . .”

Shiho rolled his eyes and said, “You probably should apologize or something if you want to get along with him.  Otherwise classes are going to be awkward.”

Yuu said, “You’re right.”

He walked over to where Mika was standing with his friends.  Yuu’s eyes flicked over to the red-headed boy who was standing next to Mika.

I don’t have any right to be jealous.  It’s my fault that we are no longer friends.

Mika looked at Yuu as he approached.

Is he really going to come over and talk to me? That takes a lot of gall.

Yuu cleared his throat and said, “Mika?”

Mika said, “Say whatever you have to say and then leave.”

Yuu was taken aback by Mika’s attitude.

He is so unlike the boy I knew.  Is this my fault?

Yuu said, “I just wanted. . .”

Mika said, “You wanted what?”

Yuu continued, “to apologize for when we were young.”

Mika just looked at Yuu.

Crowley stepped in and said, “Well, apologize and then go.”

Yuu stammered, “I am really sorry, Mika.”

Mika was speechless.

This is not how I thought . . .

Crowley said, “Ok, well you have apologized, so go.”

Yuu nodded and walked back to his friends.

Crowley looked at Mika, concerned, and asked, “Are you okay?”

Mika said, “No, not really. I didn’t expect him to apologize.  I expected him to be an ass and not care.”

Crowley said, “There could have been a legit reason why he did whatever he did when you guys were younger.”

Mika said, “Whatever it is, it isn’t good enough.”

Crowley nodded.

***

As luck would have it, Mika and Yuu were in many of the same classes. Which made it very difficult for Mika to avoid Yuu.  

Why?  Why does he still bother me?

They were in strategies class. The instructor entered the classroom and the class settled down.

The professor said, “Today we are going to apply some of what you have learned in class.  I am going to split up the class into two sections and we are going to play capture the flag.”

The class erupted into cheers.

The professor said, “Just so you take this seriously, it is part of your grade.  You will be graded for how well your team works together.  And who wins will be taken into account as well.”

The students nodded as the professor assigned the two teams.  The class headed out to the training field.  

Luckily Yuu and I are on different teams.  I don’t know how I would be able to work with him.  I am going to make damn sure that my teams wins.

Once they were on the field, the professor reviewed the rules.

He said, “Whoever captures the other team’s flag first is the winner.  You will each be assigned a base with your flag. I will then give you fifteen minutes to talk strategy with your classmates before the game begins.  No permanent injuries. Any questions?”

The boys shook their head.  The professor took Yuu’s group to their base while a TA, who would be helping score the match, took Mika’s group to their base. Mika’s group’s base was on a little rise. Their flag was red. It was snapping smartly in the wind.

Mika turned to his group and said, “We need to decide on a group to advance to the other base and be on the offense. And another group to be our defense protecting the flag.”

Crowley nodded and said, “That makes sense. I’ll lead the offense, if that is okay.  The other students quickly agreed.

Mika said, “Then I will stay here and lead the defense.”

Each boy picked other members of the group to help them. The defense found the best possible spots for them to protect the flag. While the offense, talked about their plan to attack the other base. They finally heard a whistle which indicated the training exercise had begun. The TA found a position that let him watch the red team’s base. He noted how quickly and efficiently the boys had figured out their game plan and put it into motion.  Mika kept careful watch for members of the other team.  

They are not taking our flag.

Just about the time that Mika was beginning to get bored he saw a familiar dark head appear on the horizon.

Of course he would be on the offense. I am not letting him of all people take our flag.

When Yuu passed close to Mika’s hiding place, Mika jump out to capture him. But because of the adrenaline, he hit Yuu harder than he meant to.  They rolled to the edge of the rise.  

The boys started grappling, with Mika trying capture Yuu and Yuu trying to get away.

Yuu thought He’s serious about this.  If I push him too far, he might hurt me.

During the scuffle, Yuu grabbed Mika’s gloved hand.  Mika slipped his hand out of the glove to escape capture. Mika reached out to grab Yuu’s wrists.  He was nearly in contact with Yuu when Mika realized he no longer had a glove on his hand.

It shouldn’t matter.  There is no way we are soulmates, right?

Mika clasped his hand around Yuu’s wrist to restrain his hands and felt the shock run up his arm as soon as he touched Yuu’s skin.

No way.  Fuck.

Yuu jerked back from the sensation and fell down the rise.

Both boys started screaming in pain.