#best case it takes us 1 hour to get to each other

[katandsquad]

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[tlou-reid]

Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal

♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all

♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.

These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.

But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.

You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.

So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.

You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.

However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.

“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.

He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.

You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.

“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.

However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”

With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?

He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.

Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.

The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.

This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.

The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.

As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.

“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.

You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.

“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.

“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”

Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.

You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.

“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”

There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”

While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.

“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.

After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.

Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.

Until you opened your door Saturday morning.

You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.

The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.

“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.

“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.

“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.

You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.

So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.

However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.

You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.

Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.

So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.

Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.

You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.

The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.

You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.

You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.

As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.

You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.

You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.

You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.

Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.

Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.

“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.

“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.

“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.

“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.

“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.

“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.

As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.

“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”

You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.

The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”

“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”

Well, you couldn’t refuse that.

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever

Or

Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards

You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.

He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.

Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.

What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.

Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.

''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.

''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.

Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.

''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.

''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.

''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.

"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.

"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.

His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.

"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.

"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.

He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.

"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.

"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.

[PREVIOUS]

[sugurizz]

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓/𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 +𝟏𝟖 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ── Bby Boo Joo is a M E N A C E but I know a lot of us noticed him being all soft and tender (like 1% of the time) but oh well, I can work with that 💪🏼. So here’s some of the ways Jaekyung expresses his…feelings? Ig. kinda his love language.. in a way 💕…

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐒𝐊.

Also thanks for the inspo and sorry ik this ask was sent long ago 🤧. U can call me Hana but I’ve been thinking about Yuna as a new alias…idk.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: established relationship, Physiotherapist F! Reader, shared house, implied power dynamics, hints at sex/ SEXUAL content.

Living in Jaekyung’s penthouse sure made life easier for both of you. It slowly aquainted you to each other, bodies and minds. You slowly got used to his mannerisms, little habits and his little pet-peeves. The sense of pride it gave you to feel like you knew him more than anybody else sure gave you a tiny ego boost. especially him desiring you whenever his body needs it…

♥︎──♥︎ He checks on you randomly. Casually pretending to walk by your room and just making sure you’re there. He does it almost whenever he’s home with you. Sometimes getting a bit sly with it so you don’t really notice him. But you slowly learned it was his way of checking up on you, making sure you’re around him -you know- just in case…

♥︎──♥︎ He hates you not being home, especially when he’s back from overtime training. Whenever he’s feeling stressed, uneasy or just in a sour mood, he’d rather you be around him or at least somewhere he knows.

He made it obvious the one day you were away til a late hour at night. He came home from his evening workout, didn’t find you there and instantly texted you.

‘I’m home. need you to check on my shoulder.’

♥︎──♥︎ He always complains about his feather-light sleep, but snoozes like a baby whenever you’re in his bed. The nights before his matches are surprisingly best for him. He gets the best sleeping quality after he pounds the juices out your poor pussy. He wakes up before you for sure, but his cute disheveled morning hairs are sure proof of a healthy healthy nap.

♥︎──♥︎ He likes it better when you make the food. His cocky ass always claims he’s fine making it himself but eats twice the amount whenever it’s you cooking his meals. He’d pretend he’s tired and not in the mood whenever he craves your cooking cause…his ass can’t simply ask for something lol. Yet he gets all giddy and blushy when his fav smoked eel dish is ready.

♥︎──♥︎ He hates to see you in any pain. Always saying it’s just for himself though…You know, just because he wants you always safe and ready to keep him in peak condition. and NOT because he actually cares or anything.

Yet why does he still gets annoyed at you getting the slightest scratch? He frowns when he notices you wearing band-aids, having a bruise or even some random shallow cuts on your hands and he’d instantly grab your arm, staring into your eyes and asking you how’d you get the injury.

♥︎──♥︎ He likes randomly noticing you…*ahem* underclothed. booty shorts definitely trigger his inner perv. He stares at your ass when you’re standing in the bathroom, doing your skincare freshly out of a quick nighty shower. So damn shameless when he stares. Almost undressing you with the raven eyes and thick lashes. So annoying…

You usually end up taking another shower that same night, only with his thick cum flowing down your thigh the second time :3

♥︎──♥︎ He can sense whenever you’re feeling down…IRONICALLY? Sounds like a joke with Jaekyung being the dick he is LOL but trust me on this one.

He almost has a sixth sense whenever you’re sad, scared, stressed out or just if something inconvenient happens to you in general. He’d never admit it -obviously- but it bugs him if he ever caught you teary-eyed. It gets him uneasy and you can tell when his mood sometimes matches yours..

Uhhh smells like love in here *insert Jaekyung stuffing his nose with toilet paper scraps*

♥︎──♥︎ He hates when you struggle to do something by yourself instead of asking him for help. (paying bills, dealing with packages, paperwork etc…) Says they’re just ‘bs problems’ and he can solve them for you much quicker and better than you could. He’d do it himself or even pays someone to do it instead.

Besides, he’s not kidding when he says he wants all your focus on him so he’d rather everything around you gets taken care of just so you can be there for him at all times.

♥︎──♥︎ He doesn’t mind your outside life but would definitely notice when you’re all cute and dolled-up for some reason.

It’s not only about the dolly looks to be fair. He’d bend you over the kitchen counter in your stained apron and fuck you dumb or suck your tits in your goofy pattern pjs on one of his long sleepless nights…

But the time he notices you spraying your cherry fragance in the bathroom, your perky breasts sticking shyly through your dress and a shiny jewel dangling from your ankle bracelet always gets him tight in his boxers.

He walks in with his glossy eyes, same naugthy grin you see when he’s in that mood..

‘Tomorrow’s my back check-up. Better not be late.’ He steps behind you, arms lazily crossed above his chest.

You nodded and made your way through the entrance, catching a honeyed voice behind you.

‘Hey Doc. I’ll drop you by'...

…His white McLaren got you there way ahead of time. so ahead that you ended up clawing at the door close to you, the little ankle bracelet jiggling over Jaekyung’s back and your shaky arms wrapped shut around his shoulders. Begging him to let you cum in fear of missing on your little night out...

[traumawhomst]

Ok but yandere Orcs yes please

Tw: Physical abuse not done by a side character, and physical violence to a side character.

(1,300 words)

Part 1

There had been a “War” with the Orc Empire for as long as you could remember, but honestly from what you could tell it was really more along the lines of scattered boarder skirmishes, one side would take ground and the other would eventually get it back.

It wasn’t really talked about much, other than the soldiers who passed through your Uncle’s Tavern, who’d rather talk about cards or romantic exploits.

You’d come home late one night from working, only to one of the barn doors was propped up instead of hanging on the hinges. A closer inspection revealed that it had been pulled off its hinges and then leaned against the other door to make it look like nothing had happened.

It was probably due to the fact that you’d been awake for roughly eighteen hours that spurred you to grab an old carving (probably dull) knife and kicked down the barn door.

The door hit the floor and a thick cloud of dust rose up and around the fallen door. It got in your nose and eyes and you couldn’t help but sputter taking a step backwards.

Your mind froze when you heard another coughing before it then started to think of the worse possible scenario. You wiped your eyes clutching the hilt of the knife and looked into the dark barn.

To find an Orc only as upright as the back wall could support, one hand raised and the other pressed against what looked to be a stab wound. Blood seeped from between his fingers and soaked his shirt and pants.

There was no anger in his eyes, his body loose and defeated. He apologized for the door and the mess he was making, promising to leave as he tried to stand up. He couldn’t get further than a single knee before collapsing again.

You couldn’t speak or move as he tried to leave, your mind struggling to understand everything that happened. Well you didn’t move until he fell again, then you told him to stop moving and you’d be back.

You nor no one else ever said you were smart, and that’s the reason you gave yourself as you grabbed clean bandages and water. You sighed at yourself before also grabbing a blanket as well.

He’d stiffened when you silently approached him until you showed him the water and bandages. He almost laughed when you knelt next to him and started to do your best to clean it. He didn’t fight or argue though, at first watching you before closing his eyes and relaxing.

He was passed out by the time you’d finished, exhaustion and blood loss finally took its toll. You watched for a while making sure his chest rose and fall before you tossed a blanket over him and did your best to prop the barn door back to how it was before.

You overslept the next morning, no time to eat before running to your work much less check on a half dead orc.

You found yourself thinking about him often, wondering how he was feeling. If he was comfortable, if he was alive. The worry was enough to keep you awake for the hours of sleep you’d lost to him.

You took more food than you usually did stealing it off plates where it had been untouched, carefully wrapping it and hiding it before your uncle could see. Just in case.

He was not dead, when you returned and was more than surprised to see you splitting the food you’d brought silently handing half to him before you stood up.

That was the first time he touched you actually grabbing your wrist without any real force. You looked at him and could see a hundred questions swirling in his eyes. Instead of asking those he just asked to eat together. He’s not used to eating alone.

And you do, you sit back down and for the first night you eat in near silence, as you two got comfortable just being near each other. He didn’t stop from leaving a second time.

His face did light up when you wished him a goodnight though

So you fell into a comfortable if odd routine. You’d spend the day working, him trying to heal in your barn and then come together for dinner. You both were orphaned before the start of adulthood, and it was nice to speak to someone about it without worry of how it would spread.

He was funny and charming, you found yourself laughing and smiling more in those few nights than you had in the years since your father died. He was easy to talk to and he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. It was probably the fifth night when you found yourself excited to go home and speak to him.

You knew that this was dangerous, the longer he stayed the more likely he get caught the more likely you’d be thrown in jail. You told him he could stay as long as he needs to.

On the eighth night you came home later than usual, a bounce in your step that you hadn’t had in years. Even the regulars at your Uncle’s pub had noticed and started to speculate on who or what had made you smile so much. You still had to hide it, any smile would be taken as offense by your uncle who seemed to think he owned your emotions along with your father’s debt.

But tonight you managed to get twice as much as you normally did and you were excited to sit and talk with him.

And he was gone.

Panic clawed at you as you looked hoping to find him in some corner tucked away but no. He was gone. Your heart sunk as you realized there was only two options.

Either he was found by soldiers. Or…

He left without saying goodbye.

Hurt threatened to tear open your chest as stand again alone in the silence. You try to tell yourself you were an idiot to think he’d say before leaving, of course he was always going to take what he could and run. A meaner part of yourself told you that this would happen with everything you loved and enjoyed.

You shoved the food in your mouth, not even tasting anything as you just tried to eat as much of it as you could. Your stomach hurt but you’d manage to stop crying by then. You told yourself how much you didn’t care.

You slept in the barn that night unable to sleep anywhere else.

You’d over slept for maybe the first time in years ending up showing late to your Uncle’s pub. He did not take it well, throwing things and screaming, hitting you more than once.

And then someone pries him off you, and you look up and see a massive figure in armor and boots that added at least three inches. He held your uncle up in the air one hand around his neck. You watched your uncle struggle and turn purple and only then to do you think to move.

You look at the figure again, and realize they’re wearing a helmet made to look like falcon completely covering their face. They turn towards you as you scramble, dropping your uncle to the ground.

You didn’t get very far before, one solid hand grabbed your shirt and yanked you towards him. You tried to fight but they was much stronger than you and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

They pull you to the door where two Orc Soldiers waited and moved when the figure pulling you barked an order.

Three massive horses waited outside and you tried to struggle again, firmly but gently you are pushed on the up on the horse, your captor behind and the four of you were off.

[kaleldobrev]

Getting Back into the Swing of Things (1) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 2.2k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (4x), Age Gap (15 years) & Minor controlling behavior

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Don't worry, as Dean and reader meet in the next chapter! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read the Prologue

Dean tossed and turned, still unable to fall asleep despite what seemed like hours trying. He smelled blood in his nose, felt it on his lips and tongue; smiling with pure bliss. He could feel his hand gripping the First Blade, and he could hear the heart beats of people fading fast as he looked into their eyes. His throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself.

Removing the covers from himself, he swung his body, his feet flat on the floor as he rubbed his face. Letting out a huge sigh of frustration, he got up from his bed and made his way to his bedroom door; deciding that maybe a few drinks could make him get a bit sleepy. But he knew deep down that wasn’t going to work — he just needed an excuse to get up and walk around.

As Dean started making his way toward the kitchen, he noticed that Sammy’s door was open halfway, the light of the room still on. A puzzled look appeared on Dean’s face, surprised that Sam was still up. He figured after curing him, he would be knocked out for the next couple of days, or at least taking it easy.

He heard drawers opening and closing, not remotely quietly. Standing in the doorway, he saw Sam packing some clothes into a duffel bag, slightly struggling as he did so, as he was down an arm. “Heading out somewhere?” Dean asked, after knocking on the doorway.

Sam looked up, barely smiling. He looked almost half asleep. “Uh yeah. A hunter friend of mine asked me to help her with a poltergeist case. Should be only a few days.”

“A poltergeist case uh?” Dean questioned, intrigued. “Where at?” He scratched the back of his head as he walked into Sam’s bedroom, trying his best not to sound too excited about the case.

“Tulsa. It’s about a five and a half hour drive from here, and I promised Y/N I’d meet her at the motel in town,” Sam said, zippering up his duffel.

“You sure you’re good to go Sammy? I mean, your arm is still broken,” Dean said, pointing at his arm. “Why don’t I go instead? I could use a nice and easy case to get my sea legs back.”

Sam looked at his brother with a bit of hesitancy. “I don’t know Dean…” his voice trailed off. Even though Sam had talked to you about Dean, he wasn’t sure how you would react to Dean showing up instead of him. Based on the short amount of time he had known you, he feels that you and Dean would get along really well as your hunting styles were scarily similar at times, and your personalities rivaled each other. But yet, you didn’t know Dean, and he knew you’d rather hunt alone than hunt with someone you didn’t know.

“Sammy, your arm is broken. No offense, but how much help are you really going to be to her? She might as well just do it by herself,” Dean said, and Sam knew that his brother had a point. He was right, as much as he hated to admit it.

Sam sighed, almost defeated. “Alright, alright. You’re…you’re right,” he said, slightly swinging his casted arm. “Just let me give her a heads up first okay?”

You looked out straight in front of you as only darkness could be seen for miles and miles. Your hands had a tight grip on the wheel to the point that your knuckles were almost pale and white. The loudness of your windshield wipers drowned out what you were currently listening to — The Clash.

There was no traffic, no cars— just you, the rain, and the complete darkness except for your headlights. You sighed, thinking about your boyfriend, how conflicted you felt about the whole thing. On one end, you were tired of the bullshit and were ready to call it quits with him. Why be with someone who makes you miserable? You heard your mom’s words echoing in your brain, so loud as if she was sitting right next to you. On the other end, you wanted to give him another chance as people who understood the hunting life was few and far between.

You didn’t necessarily want to be alone, but it was something that started to look more and more appealing. You were 22, still young and had time to find someone. But who? Another hunter? A civilian maybe? No, no civilians, you thought. Too risky. You needed someone that knew the life.

As if snapping you out of your current thought, your phone started ringing, the buzz of it slightly vibrating your seat. Since there were no cars on the road, you pulled off to the side, and answered the phone. "Hey Sammy," you said, "where are you?"

"Hey Y/N, I'm uh...still back at the Bunker," his voice sounded so tired and defeated.

You raised a brow in confusion. "What do you mean you're still back at the Bunker? You're not coming to help me?" You would be lying if you weren't disappointed. Although you had only known Sam for a short amount of time, he was someone that you genuinely enjoyed hunting with; not only because he was a legendary Winchester, but because he treated you like his equal, despite your age.

"Remember when Cas helped me on a case a while back and I ended up breaking my arm?" He said, and you nodded, even though you knew he wasn't able to hear you. But he took your lack of an answer to continue speaking. "Well, it's still broken. And I didn't want to say no when you called for help because you were such a big help to Cas and me, especially me, when Dean were gone."

You didn't want to give the impression that you were disappointed, even though you were. But you understood where Sam was coming from; and the last thing you wanted to do was force him to drive all the way to Tulsa just to sit in the motel room. "I really appreciate you saying yes, even though you're kind of out of commission. It...it really means a lot."

"Listen, I know you can pretty much solve this case in your sleep but..." he paused, sighing, almost as if he was afraid to say the next few words. "Dean offered to help you."

You were completely silent, which was a rarity for you. It wasn't like you didn't appreciate the help, but you were iffy about it as you didn't really like working with people that you weren't really familiar with. Yes, you've heard countless stories from Sam about his brother, and knew he was a good hunter; but the thing that scared you was, when it came down to it, would he just leave you for dead to save himself?

"I know you don't usually work with people you aren't really familiar with but," he sighed again, and you knew if he was in front of you right now, the puppy dog eyes would be in full force. "He's a great hunter, Y/N, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. If something bad happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself."

How could you possibly say no when Sam was practically telling you how good of a person his brother was? "Sam —"

"You'd be doing me a big favor, Y/N. I think this case would really help him get back into the swing of things," Sam said. Now you definitely couldn't say no.

You took a deep breath, sighing. "Okay," you said simply, giving in to Sam’s plead.

"Thanks Y/N, seriously," his tone sounding a bit happier now that you agreed. "I already gave him the address to the motel we agreed to meet at. He should hopefully be there right around the same time as you are."

"But you guys are almost six hours away," you stated with a raised brow. "Is he teleporting there?"

Sam chuckled at your comment. "No, no. He uh...he's a bit of a speed demon," Kind of like you, he wanted to add.

"Ah, so like me," you said. Sam couldn't help but smile at the comment, finding it funny that you had thought the exact same thing as he had. "Alright. Um, does he need my phone number or?"

"I kind of...already...gave it to him...sorry..." his words trailed off, almost embarrassed, like you had caught him red handed. You sighed, slightly annoyed. You didn't like when others gave out your phone number without asking you first, but then again, your boyfriend — which was soon to be your ex — was something he did quite often behind your back.

"He still driving the impala?" You asked, but before Sam could answer you, you continued with your thought, answering your own question. "Never mind, that was a stupid question," you slightly chuckled to yourself. "Of course he's still driving the impala."

Dean held the steering wheel tightly in his hands, loving the feeling of the leather at his fingertips. It had been far too long since he'd driven Baby, and it was one of the things that he truly missed while he was gone. "It's just a car Sam," his words rang out; and those words gutted him, because Baby wasn't just a car: she was home.

As he drove, his music was low, not loud like he usually preferred it, as he was currently admiring the simplicity of his surroundings. The rain hitting the windshield and being quickly wiped away, the darkness of the road that was only lit up by Baby's headlights. He felt comfortable and at ease; something driving always helped him to feel. He felt at home right now.

You didn't really know what to feel right now as you were debating back and forth on how your first meeting with the infamous Dean Winchester was going to go. According to Sam, the two of you would get along great, as he's made comments along the lines of, "You sometimes scarily remind me of Dean," which you weren't sure if you should take as a compliment or not.

Some of the stories Sam had told you about Dean impressed you, but then there were some where you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the stupidity. With some stories, you wondered how he wasn't dead already, then again, both Winchester's have died and came back countless times as death didn't seem to stick. You couldn't help but wonder what made them so special. Maybe they are God's favorites, you thought; and you couldn't help but chuckle.

Pulling into the motel parking lot, you let out a small laugh, seeing Dean's impala already in the parking lot. He really is a speed demon, you thought. Wonder what time he got here? You wondered.

As soon as you parked your vehicle, your phone began buzzing, and you looked at the name on the caller ID. Your blood started boiling seeing your boyfriend's name. "You have to be fucking kidding me," you mumbled to yourself.

At first, you were going to ignore the call, as maybe he would think you were still driving. But there was no way you would be able to give that illusion as there was no traffic on the road when you left because of the time. With gritted teeth, you answered the call, trying your absolute best to remain calm. "Hey," was all you said.

"You get to the motel yet?" He asked, his tone implying that he already had that knowledge somehow.

"I just pulled in," your answers were short, as you were still mad at him from before. Although driving was one of the things that calmed you down and made you feel at peace, for some reason, this argument in particular really made you angry.

"You said you would call me when you got to the motel," he sounded mildly annoyed, but disappointed at the same time.

You rolled your eyes. "Fucking hell," you mouthed. "I just pulled in. You didn't give me enough time to even call or text you." You took a deep breath, feeling yourself getting ready to boil over. "This is me telling you that I have reached the motel and may not be able to talk to you over the next couple of days, okay?" You weren't asking him; you were telling him; trying to make it clear that you couldn't talk to him. Of course you would be able to, but you didn't want to, as this case was a way for you to get the edge off. It was a way to kill something without killing him.

"I love you," he said, and for some reason him saying those three little words surprised you. He rarely said them to you, even though it was something that you had said to him regularly. The only times he ever seemed to say those three little words to you was during or after sex, or when the two of you had gotten into a rather nasty argument.

You didn't want to say it back to him, as love was the very last thing you felt for him in this moment. But you almost felt like you needed to, so he wouldn't feel like anything was wrong between the two of you. Then again, you didn't want to gaslight him the same way he always seemed to gaslight you. "I'll see you in a few days," was how you decided to answer, as those were the most genuine words you felt you could say to him.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 2

Tag List: @roseblue373 | @snakebxtez | @deanwanddamons | @missy420-0 | @hannahisthebanana | @madzzz0797 | @livingordeadwhoknows | @grx-deanslovr | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms | @savagemickey03 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @beansproutmafia | @queenie32 | @deansbbyx | @deans-spinster-witch | @ficmesideways | @frozenhuntress67 | @coldspoons | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden | @androah | @zulema222 | @k-l-a-w-s | @the-achievementhunter | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007 | @Imhf1

[blueberri-blu]

Learning You...

Donnie ♡

[Bayverse] Slowly getting to know Donnie ♡

Leo ♡⁠˖ Mikey ♡⁠˖ Raph ♡⁠˖

Getting to now the turtles! A little Mini-Series!

Meeting Him:

Honestly? You probably met him through April or his brothers...

April decided to bring you over to the lair, after months of her dodging you wanting to meet her friends

So, as you walk into the lair, you meet Mikey first, ever excited for new friends

Then Leo comes to greet you like a "proper guest" (as leo puts it)

And lastly Raph just seems to stare at you a bit and give a grunt

Later, 1 of 2 things happens

Either Leo or April's drags Donnie out to greet you

Or your curious ass goes to see what's going on in the strange lab room

Once you see him, he greets you quickly and goes back to what he was doing in his lab

You follow him and start to ask questions about his many inventions

This won his heart (whether he knew it or not)

Befriending Him:

At first, it's hesitant questions, long awkward silences, and clammy hands

But after awhile he gets used to your presence

Your questions often help him, letting him see a new perspective

He appreciates any of your input, but not without a little bit of sass

That little turn around he does (in the gif), you can't tell me he isn't sassy

You two will get into little sass battles, one comeback after another

This helps you two get closer

You mostly spend time in his lab, with the occasional accompanying him for new materials or things he needs

You bring him food and water, setting alarms for him to remember to eat and drink

Spinning in your office chair, you give him insane scenarios for him to entertain you with the logistics of it all

"Hey Donnie, what if I wanted a fire proof phone?"

"well you'd need to find a thin enough material that doesn't melt under high heats, a material such as steal, however you'd need to figure out how to combat the heaviness..."

And that's when he start getting comfortable ranting to you

He'll go on hour long rants about many things, allowing you to interrupt him to ask questions about what things mean and such

Donnie loves when you ask him these questions, he feels like, even though you don't understand him completely, you still try hard to take interest in him

First Date!

You probably have to ask him out,

You guys develop a situation ship sort of thing

And although he wants more, he doesn't want to ruin what you have

You end up asking Donnie "What are we"

And that's when poor Donnie's brain is racing a mile a minute

He starts stammering and doesn't know how to proceed, but eventually sighs and tells you how he feels

He's ecstatic when you tell him you feel the same!

Donnie stresses so much on dates ideas

Eventually, he decides he wants to take you out of the lair for once

You share your favorite foods with each other, both sickeningly sweet feeding eachother

He takes you for a ride in the shellraiser

You eventually get to a large field of pretty grass, noticing it's very far from the city

You give him a questioning look, but he just responds with "I wanted to make sure you knew this was special to me" while giving you a shy smile

You have a little picnic with Donnie, far from the city

He wanted you two to have a special moment without the bustling of the city or his brothers

Although you're both nervous, soon you start talking about anything that comes to mind

Soon Donnie starts to feed you, like the sickeningly sweet romantic he is

You're both giggling and talking in hushed voices

You end up cuddling and whispering sweet nothing's in each other's ears

Dating!

With Donnie you are never missing anything

He tries his best to make your life easier

You're clumsy and your phone keeps falling? He makes a practically indestructible phone case in your favorite color (he secretly hopes it's purple)

Your toast never comes out quite how you like it? He makes a toaster that makes your toast exactly how you like it (and maybe even a coffee maker that makes it ready to drink)

Donnie sometimes struggles with giving you the time outside the lab you (let's be honest, him too) need.

Sometimes you struggle to get him out of his lab, but with a little convincing (and kicked puppy eyes) he'll usually cave for awhile.

Usually taking you to go see museums at night "It's better without the crowd!"

And on your anniversaries, he takes you back to your first date

He can get a bit insecure about whether he's doing it right, all he has to base off of are movies and TV shows

It'll take a bit for him to touch you, but once you put his hand on your back/thigh/waist

He'll take it as a go ahead (always looks at you for approval tho)

Whenever he hugs or kisses you, you can feel just how much he loves you

He looks at you and slowly closes the distance

Donnie will sometimes ask you questions about your previous relationships, how they ended, and why

He just wants to prevent the same mistakes from happening, he really loves you, and wants you two to last for eternity <3

I was able to finish it @novaleedartis !! Hope you enjoy it ^^

Please let me know how I can improve or if I have any spelling errors please! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[jakesduskwood]

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?      

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

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

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 15

Hey guys this story is back! I feel like it's nearing the end, but we'll see. I'm hoping for another couple of chapters (than the two have backlogged anyway) at least, but I'm not sure. Steve and Eddie are already freewheeling toward each other and I have learned when that starts happening either one or both of them hit the gas and they go from zero to sixty faster than NASCAR on race day.

Steve tries to get a job, has a good cry about it, Robin is bestest and they try the mall.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

Steve sat at the desk, phone pressed to his ear, newspaper next to him, and paper and pen in hand.

“Hi, may I speak to the manager?” he asked in his best customer service voice. “Thank you.”

Once the manager was on the line, he began, “Hello, sir. I’m looking at your ad in the help want ads and was wondering if the position was still open?”

Steve shoulders slumped. “I see. No, of course. I’m sure your nephew will just be absolutely smashing at slinging those hamburgers. Thank you for your time.”

He set the phone down in its cradle and put his head in his hands. He had been on the phone for the last two hours calling up people for job interviews and he was utterly exhausted.

Everyone of them had turned him down. Not taking anymore applications at this time, the job has been filled, or in the cases he actually got far enough to tell them his name, they would straight up hang up on him.

He didn’t want to work in the mall, but it was looking less and less likely he’d get a job inside Hawkins.

Which meant that Joyce was going to be on his ass again. She had gotten so insistent in him finding a job, that he was forced to stop going over there, choosing to hang out with Will and Ellie at someone else’s house.

God, he got more peace at the Wheelers and Mike was openly hostile ninety percent of the time. So that was really something.

Steve picked up Eddie’s latest gift. It was a giant canary plushie. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen. He loved it. He hugged it close.

“I miss Eddie, Kenny,” he murmured into its beak. “I know he’ll be home in a couple of weeks, but I miss being able to have him tell me I’m enough. That my worth isn’t dependent on what other people think of me.”

Steve stood up and carried Kenny over to the bed, where he fell asleep, tears falling into the soft material of Kenny’s neck.

~

He woke up slowly to soft music being played. He opened his eyes and blearily looked around. There on the sofa reading a magazine was Robin. She was listening to Blondie on his boombox but it was at a respectful volume so it wouldn’t wake him.

He had long since given her permission to just come in when she had a gift from Eddie or if she just want to hang out. As long as he wasn’t getting a shower or getting dressed, he really couldn’t care less.

Steve sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. Next to her on the sofa was a large box.

“Hey, dingus,” she said without looking up. “I took the opportunity to order us dinner.” She looked at her watch. “It should be here in about five minutes.”

Steve slid off the bed and padded over to the sofa where he flopped gracelessly next to her.

Robin set down the magazine and looked at him properly. “Still can’t find a job, huh?”

He shook his head and pulled his knees up to his chest. She gave him a big hug and just held him until the food arrived. She rolled the food cart over lifted the cloche with gusto.

“Tada!” she said triumphantly revealing the mountains of fries, mashed potatoes, pizza, onion rings. All of Steve’s favorite things. “I figured you’d want some pick me up food and I went all out.”

“If we weren’t both gayer than the day is long,” Steve sighed happily, “I’d marry you.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek pulling out a slice of cheese pizza. He munched, grinning around the slice.

“Gross,” Robin said grabbing a handful of fries. “I mean the pizza not the marrying thing, because I agree. No, your pizza tastes are abysmal. Plain cheese? No meat, not veggies, nothing?”

Steve swallowed and set the pizza down. “It’s all my mom would let me have. Even when I’d go to parties and shit, she’d insist on them having a cheese pizza for me.”

“Okay I take that back,” Robin said. “Eat your cheese pizza, dingus. It makes you happy. But if I ever see your mother, I might accidentally scratch her eyes out.”

Steve picked up the pizza again, but paused with it half way to his mouth. ‘How do you accidentally scratch someone’s eyes out?”

Robin batted her eyes prettily. “I wouldn’t know, officer, I blacked out. The next thing I knew I was washing the blood off my hands.”

Steve threw one of the throw pillows at her head. “Don’t quote musicals at me!”

“Ha!” Robin crowed in delight, clutching the pillow to her chest. “The fact that you recognize it makes you the chump, not me!”

Steve opened his mouth to protest but then his eyes went wide when he had no argument for that.

“I’d love to see proper theater, you know,” he said dreamily. “Like with a proper orchestra and not just a tinny tape that skips in places and actual actors instead of Old Mr. Abernathy trying to play Hamlet.”

Robin winced. “He couldn’t even remember ‘To be or not to be’ and that’s like the one line everyone knows.” She shoved more fries into her face.

“Maybe when I get out on my own,” he said, snagging one of her fries right off of her plate, “I’ll go see plays in Indy or Bloomington.”

“You’ve just got to take me with you,” she huffed, grabbing the half bitten fry right out of his mouth and shoving it in her face. “I’ve been saving up all the money I’ve been getting from this job so I can get driving lessons at school. I won’t be able to drive my parents’ care very much, but it would still be nice to say I have it.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something but she held up her hand. “I know what you’re going to say and the answer is no. No, you can’t pay for my drivers’ ed classes. Because I want to pay for that myself.”

Steve pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s the point of having all this money if I can’t treat my friends to a little thing like a new car or new bikes.”

The new bikes were still a point of contention between Joyce and Steve. He had bought all of them new bikes and gear with exception of Max where he bought her a new skateboard and gear. All in their favorite colors. But she refused to let Will take his. She said it wasn’t his to spend and therefore to take it back until he could buy it with his own hard earned money.

Will stopped talking to his mother for a couple of days after that.

And Steve hadn’t blamed him, so he told Will to leave it at Mike’s and ‘borrow’ it when ever they rode out places. Joyce couldn’t stop him from doing that.

“I’m not saying not buy me a new car,” Robin huffed a little laugh. “I’m just saying I want to pay for the lessons myself. It’s more of an accomplishment thing.”

Steve perked up and batted his eyelashes at her. “Really? I can buy you a car a gift for passing your test? You’ll really let me?”

Robin laughed and threw a fry at his head. “Yes, dingus, you can but me a car. I talked it over with my parents and I told them that Eddie wanted to get me a car for all my hard work and that you’d be the one helping me pick it out.”

He grabbed the fry and threw back at her, it landing in her hair. “Oh that’s smart. I bet they had all sorts of restrictions on it being sensible and shit.”

But Robin shook her head. “My parents were hippies, not stupid. They know that if they try and restrict me I will come home with the reddest, wildest hot rod they’ve every laid eyes on.”

Steve laughed. “God, can we introduce them to Joyce? Because it sounds like they could teach her a thing or two.”

“I know right?” Robin said rolling her eyes. “Eat your pizza, you heathen and the next time I come I’m bringing proper Domino’s pizza with all sorts of toppings and you can find you actually like. In the mean time, open this present that is digging into my side.”

Steve reached out for it with grabby hands. “Oooh, I really liked the plushie from yesterday. I named him Kenny. Kenny the Canary.”

“Because of course you did,” she said dryly, handing over the package to him.

He could tell it was clothes just from the shape of the box. There was just something about them that screamed ‘hey I’m clothes!’ Inside was the most beautiful yellow cardigan. It was soft and warm.

The note said, “It may be hotter than balls in Hawkins, but up here in Canada, the weather is pretty mild. Not quite sweater weather, but I saw this and just had to get it for you. Just ten more days, little Canary.”

Steve buried his face into the softness of the sweater and nearly squealed in delight. Eddie had sprayed it with his cologne. Oh this was exactly what he needed.

Robin took the card from him and smiled. “He seems to really like you. I know a lot of the people you hang out with give you shit about Eddie and the money running out on you, but Steve, the way he writes these notes sound like someone who genuinely likes you.”

Steve set down the sweater with a sigh. “I know. But it’s the imbalance I’m worried about. I’ve already been called a gold digger. I don’t want that.”

Robin frowned for a moment. “My mom is making me apply for jobs at the mall. She says I can still do this, but she wants me to know ‘what real work is’.” She put air quotes around the last part. “Which is bullshit, but I’ll do it so I can keep doing this.”

She scooted over to him and put her arm around him. “So come with me and maybe we can get a job together, shove it everyone else’s faces, yeah?”

Steve nodded and curled up into her side. She was the only one besides Hopper who knew who his benefactor was and could offer a different perspective than anyone else.

“But in the mean time,” Robin said softly, “maybe talk to Hopper about getting Joyce to knock it off.”

He shook his head. “He’s tried. She has straight up told him that until he tells her who it is who’s funding you, she won’t drop the job thing.”

Robin winced. “And if she finds out who it is, she going to be worse. I haven’t met someone who wasn’t an adult when he left other than Hopper who liked Eddie Munson. I mean the only reason my parents are letting me do this is that Uncle Justin vetted the job and that Corroded Coffin would be on tour, while I stayed here in Hawkins.”

Steve sighed and sat back up. “That’s not even the biggest problem with them knowing. It’s having to explain where I was that Eddie would have seen me to help me out.” He changed his voice so it was higher and clutched his hands to his chest. “Yes, Mrs. Byers I was underage drinking at a bar in the hopes of getting laid so I had a place to sleep!” He dropped back down to his normal tone. “Yeah, like that will go over well.”

“Ooh,” she said with a grimace, “yeah I could see how that might cause waves with the parents. Like tsunami level waves.”

“Pretty much!”

Steve flopped his head back on the back on the sofa. “God, what a fucking mess.”

“Maybe just tell them you were going to see your cousin, Monty,” she suggested, “and you were smoking outside when you met Eddie. See if that goes over better.”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Maybe. I know Monty would back me up if that’s the case. But I would rather wait until Eddie got home and see what he says.”

Robin nodded sagely. “That’s fair.”

~

They had decided to let Robin get all the applications and bring them over to Steve in the food court. He had ordered them a couple of large Orange Juilus’s and two huge slices of pizza from Sbarros.

She handed him a pen and they got to work filling out all the applications, by the time they were done, Steve’s hand cramped and he worked his fingers open and closed to try to get the muscles to work again.

Robin rolled her eyes, but wisely said nothing as she gathered up their applications to return to their stores.

Robin got three call backs, but Steve only got one. Thankfully it was one that Robin had also got, but it was Scoops Ahoy, the ice cream shop with the little costumes and silly hats. They were both hired on the spot.

~

Sorry if you saw chapter sixteen on here, too. I'll post it later!

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Tag List: SIX SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

8- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

9- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts

10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate

[asunflowerana]

a good kind of nuinsance — Suna Rintarou

summary: you have a big project coming up, and to make things even worse, you're forced to work with the most stupid, handsome moron on campus.

genre: comedy, enemies-to-lovers trope.

n/a: not me pretending i'm the best friend haha. also, good reading!

“It will be fine!” She said. “It could be worse, trust me. And it will end soon!”

You wish you could stop believing in your best friend.

College is already a nerve-wracking place to deal with it, increasing even more in junior year. You need to work on your assignments, do presentations, fight yourself everyday to not procrastinate 24/7 or call off sick ‘cause your bed is too appealing; and in the end, you always freak out with your final exams, coffee becoming your best friend and clock your worst enemy.

What you don’t understand though, is why, in such a chaotic atmosphere, you still need to do group work?

And why, of all the people on this big campus, you got paired up with Suna Rintarou?

The struggle is real.

It’s not that you hate him. No, that’s not the case at all. It’s just that spotting his face alone is enough to make you want to change sidewalks even if the traffic signal is green and Formula 1 is happening on the street.

It all started with a single bump on the cafeteria entrance. His unnecessary hard body bumped against you and your hot chocolate cup, making all of your precious drink spill and fall into your previous white All Stars sneakers, staining the fabric and burning your skin to the soul.

And that boy had the nerve to mumble a “Watch where you’re going” before giving you a cold shoulder and leaving in a hurry.

Tables turned and you had your redemption one day later, refusing to lend him your notes of an important assignment, useful for the upcoming exams. It’s not your fault that his bicycle tire got pierced on the way to class, he should have been prepared and woken up early like every poor student in this college.

This “not so pleasant but still fulfilling” war has been going on between you guys for weeks. But unfortunately, his presence became more than a nuisance to you, and you absolutely detest now the way your heart flutters when you see that punk walking on the hall with that stupid, pretty face.

Annoying, handsome, punk.

And since your “so called” best friend knows about your hidden feelings, she decided to come up with a stupid solution for it.

You, her, Suna and Bokuto Koutaro, her adorable but very much ingenuous boyfriend, were supposed to do the group project together at a cozy cafeteria a few blocks from the campus main building, known for their delicious milkshakes and pretzels.

Nowhere to escape, you accept the invite, hoping your friend could take your mind away from Suna’s intruding. That, until Bokuto shouts:

“Shoot, I forgot there was practice today!” So exaggerated, he totally has no vocation to be an actor.

And your bestie had the audacity to join the act, forcing out a grimace. “Sorry guys, but we need to go.” She announces, not sorry at all, Bokuto taking her backpack with him like the doting boyfriend he is. “Please enjoy our milkshakes, we’ll text you later to see what you guys decided!”

“Good dat— I mean…. Bye!” Bokuto takes her hand and storms away from the cafeteria.

You can only sigh, disappointed at yourself for not predicting this might happen.

“Did they really leave us?” Suna asks incredulously, noticing the filled notebooks the couple left on the table. “They even made their parts already!”

You turn your gaze to him, feeling the beginning of a migraine.“Look, I’m not thrilled to work with you either. But the faster we start, the faster we’ll get rid of each other.” You proposed with little patience, taking a sip of your friend’s untouched strawberry milkshake. “Now, take that milkshake and let’s finish this quick.”

He huffs, but your surprise doesn't fight with you on this, and you both start a two-hours circle of working in silence, bickering at each other and working in silence again, making small progress with your parts on the project. You even start to agree with each other, Suna finding your suggestions “smarter than expected”, and you finding his ideas “not so bad for a moron”.

It’s strange, the feeling of being in agreement with Hajime on something, and it's noticeable his efforts of making the process as peaceful as it can be. This friendlier side looks actually cute on him (not that you were checking him out for the past thirty minutes), so you decide to be nice too, for the sake of good grades.

It only lasts a few minutes, and soon you’re arguing again.

“The information needs to be in Z. No one will pay attention if you fill the poster with notes all over it!” He argues one more time, trying to prove his point about the best position to the notes.

“But we need to put all the information we gathered! If we do it your way, we’ll need three more posters , and that's a waste of paper!” You defend your point as well, not wanting to back down from your proposition to the project’s presentation. 

“Well, if you want to really save paper, then you should stop wanting to put everything we wrote down inside a poster, when we don’t have to!”

“We do, if we want good grades in this class. Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t really know what it's like.!”

You’re both staring at each other dangerously, breath heavy and quick, like two bulls ready to strike each other. Thank goodness you’re in a distant booth, or you guys would probably be kicked out by now for the shouting.

Suna runs his hand over his black locks, tired of this unfinished argument. “You’re too annoying , you know that?” He hisses. 

“And you’re so stubborn, argh, I can’t stand you in my head anymore!” You almost shout out your frustration, letting slip the last words by accident, but lucky for you Suna’s too angry to catch what did you mean.

“Well, I wish you could leave mine too, but you’re still there every day!”

You’re shocked. Your heart’s pace fastens and your body suddenly feels numb, completely bewildered by his confession. Suna avoids eye-contact for a few seconds, staring at the table with a terrified look, his face reddening as the seconds go by. Why did he say that to you?

“I—” He clears his throat, trying to come up with a quick excuse to cover his mistake.“ I didn't—”

“What?” But you don’t leave room for excuses. “You didn’t mean you like me?”

His eyes widens. “No! I…. I….” He sighs. “ I didn’t mean to say it like that! But if you really want to know… yes. I like you. " He moves his eyes in your direction, taking your features for a moment. "Even if you get on my nerves every single day, I can’t get you out of my head. And I know we’re not on the best terms, but I can’t just pretend anymore…” He doesn’t need to finish his line. You’re just so overwhelmed with his confession, that staying a few moments in silence makes Rintarou take that as a rejection.

“I should go.” He begins to rise from his chair, but his movements are interrupted as you quickly hold one of his wrists, preventing him from moving away. He looks at you surprised.

“Would you find it strange if I said that I can’t pretend anymore either?” You can’t say the right words aloud yet, timid of what he might do with your confession, but the growing, pretty and genuine smirk on his face tells you made a good decision by opening yourself to him.

“I guess I own you a hot chocolate, then?”

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 14

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Corroded Coffin audition with Paige, and you take more than one risk.

6.2k Words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13)

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You asked Eddie as the rest of Corroded Coffin piled out of the back of his van and started pulling out their instruments. You pulled your jacket closer around you, trying to shield yourself from the bitter wind right outside of Live Mike Studios. “I’m really not trying to be the Yono Oko here.” 

“You’re fine.” Eddie reassured you for probably the hundredth time in the past two weeks. “You’re just here for moral support, and to show Paige and her suits that we have at least one fan.” He handed you his guitar case and you slung it over your shoulder as he grabbed the amp while the others were grabbing Gareth’s drum set and hauling it inside. 

“Do you need the amp?” you asked.

He stopped for a moment, his brows furrowed and then set it back down in the back of the van. “Right. They’ll have one inside.”

“I mean, we’re at a recording studio. It makes sense.” You replied as Eddie shut the van door and turned back to you. In the few moments he had been out in the cold, his nose and cheeks had turned red which only added to the anxiousness in his eyes. 

Eddie said it was fine for you to be here, so you decided that at this point it there was no use arguing. Actually, that point probably came about an hour ago when he picked you up, kicked Jeff into the back of the van and had you sit up front next to him as you drove out of Hawkins to the studio where Corroded Coffin would be meeting with Paige and her people. 

You were a little intimidated to meet Eddie’s ex, especially since she held the future of your... boyfriend?  Eddie in the palm of her hands. It had been only a few weeks since that night in his trailer, but things had been going surprisingly smoothly all things considered. There had been no more miscommunication, no faking intoxication to get rides home, and the deal you had with Steve was dead and buried. 

The only thing that seemed to hang between you and Eddie was that you two hadn’t talked about what you two were or might be. That was one thing you never could wrap your head around when Steve talked about going on dates. He’d be going on multiple dates with different women, but he said it was all casual right now. That he was dating, but it wasn’t like he had a girlfriend yet.   

You couldn’t imagine dating more than one person at a time. Steve said you were thinking about it too hard, you said you didn’t want to hear that from him. Steve said that you clearly were doing well with Eddie, so you didn’t need to worry about dating anymore. You said that you still didn’t fully understand the difference between dating and being boyfriend and girlfriend. Steve said if it bugged you that much then to just talk to him about it. You threw an empty receipt roll at him for daring to give you good advice for once. 

There hadn’t been a good time to bring it up yet. After that chat with Steve, Eddie had announced that Corroded Coffin had an official audition with Left Turn Media. This meant that Eddie’s time had been all but completely been consumed by band practice, school, and work at the Hideout. 

Not that he hadn’t made time for you, of course. Eddie had picked you up and dropped you off every shift he had at the Hideout where Bev promised that he could play. It turns out that possibly being signed got the band more stage time. Not much, but more than just the usual half-hour per week that was allotted to them. 

He spent his nights with you, coming over after school or work to hang out in your shitty little apartment that was still decorated for Halloween because you hadn’t had the time to take them down. Eddie said that he liked the decorations, and that he thought it was pretty metal that you went so hard for the holiday, which only encouraged your laziness in taking everything down. 

Things were going well, and your crush on Eddie only grew more by the day. You didn’t want to mess anything up with him by moving too fast. 

Besides, today wasn’t about that. Today was about Corroded Coffin and their audition with Paige. Eddie had been worried about this for weeks now, even though you had said several times that this audition felt like a formality and that Paige seemed to really want to have him on board. 

Eddie didn’t seem entirely convinced, pointing out that the last time they auditioned WR Records had wanted only him, and didn’t want Corroded Coffin as a whole. 

Everyone made it inside the studio, instruments in hand. Eddie had taken his guitar back and you assisted with bringing in the drumset to set up in the recording booth. The band looked around in awe at the interior, despite how simply laid out it was. There was a palpable excitement within the group as this moment became more and more real. 

“Eddie!” A girl with freckles and dark hair walked out into the lobby to greet you all. This had to be Paige. 

You stood to the side as Eddie and Paige hugged awkwardly, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Paige then went to the remaining members and shook their hands and introduced herself. The only other person she seemed to already know was Jeff. Eddie had mentioned that he had been the only one truly around for the first audition. 

Then she turned to you, and looked you up and down for a split second before offering her hand out. 

“I’m Paige, you must be the girl Eddie mentioned.” She said. 

You took her hand and told her your name. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

The girl Eddie had mentioned. Not girlfriend or the girl he was seeing. Dammit, you really needed to get out of your own head about that. That was a conversation for later, not right now. You and Eddie were dating, that was a fact. Eddie had turned down this girl to date you. 

But seeing the way Paige interacted with everyone, doubt crept into your mind as to why. Paige was pretty, there was no denying that. Her outfit was the perfect combination of professional and alternative and here she was, offing the guy you were dating everything he ever wanted. 

Then there was you, at your dead end job as the assistant managed of a retail store, wearing clothing you still wore in high school and completely clueless as to what the fuck you were supposed to do with your life and where you were supposed to be. 

Eddie and Paige belonged in music, anyone with two working brain cells could see that. Paige led everyone to the back area where there were several people waiting at the recording console. A few were in suits and a few looked like they had just crawled out of bed and staggered over. 

You weren’t sure which were more intimidating. 

“There’s some coffee and water on the table, if you’d like to grab something while we talk to the band.” Paige said with a smile. 

“Right, yeah.” You nodded and just as you were about to turn away, you felt someone grab your hand. 

Eddie gave your hand a squeeze and you swallowed any insecurity and gave him your best reassuring smile. 

“You got this.” you said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek before you realized what you were doing. You didn’t look at him as you made your way to the small coffee station and grabbed yourself some water. Your stomach was already tied up in knots and you were sure that coffee would turn your inside to liquid right now. 

You took a seat on a couch and watched as Eddie introduced himself and the band to the people in the room. Eddie’s skin looked pale with nerves, but other than that you would have thought that he had done this a hundred times. There was something about him that always exuded confidence, even when he was nervous. 

After everyone had shaken hands, Paige took over and led a few people in suits and at least one person in the beat up AC/DC t-shirt into a back room. Eddie turned to his band and nodded, and everyone filed into the booth to set everything up. 

The next hour was warm up and sound checks. The guy at the mixing booth kept muttering to himself and then giving directions in the microphone for everyone to hear him. Each time Eddie would nod and someone would adjust their instrument or play a sample. 

After about ten minutes of this, they launched into a warm up cover of an old Dio song, which they played twice, followed by the song they were actually going to audition with. 

You wished you could hear them, in the soundproof booth you could only see them playing their instruments. You almost got up to ask the guy at the booth for an extra set of headphones so that you could hear how they sounded. Based off of what you were seeing though... you weren’t confident that they were at their best. Eddie kept stopping them, and would either say something to the guy running the booth or to the rest of the band.

After about a half hour of this, the guy in the booth called for a break. Eddie was the first to set down his guitar and walk out, not looking at you as he made his way out to the hallway. You followed him instinctively, not looking the look on his face. 

In the hallway, Eddie was bonking his head against a vending machine, making the chips and candies inside rattle. 

“You know, a quarter would be easier to get something out.” you said, walking over to him. 

Eddie looked up at you, his fringe plastered to his forehead from sweat. “I think I’m losing it.” he said. “I can’t seem to get us together to play the way we should. We either sound like we’ve never been on a stage or too polished. This happened last time too.” 

“Have you tried imagining the audience in their underwear?” you offered. 

“The only person watching is the guy in the booth. He’s not the scary part.” Eddie turned his back to the machine and leaned against it. 

“What’s the scary part?” 

“Everything else.” He rubbed his face with a deep sigh. “Paige, getting a deal, letting my band down again... I can’t shake it.” 

“Whatever happened last time was a big deal, huh?” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You felt how tense he was, which worried you. 

“You have no idea.” he shook his head, dropping his hands. “Last time was a fever dream. It... fuck it’s hard to explain. Everyone kept telling me how real I was, that I had what it took to make it. I was going to meet all these major executives for a major label and I blew it. Now, I’m trying again and this time- this is gonna sound so fucking stupid.”

“I won’t judge.” you promised.

“This feels more real than last time and it’s throwing me off.” He admitted, his body sagging against the vending machine. “An instant record deal with the biggest company for metal? It felt like a goddamn fever dream where I was somebody. I did shit I wasn’t proud of to get there, and now I’m trying to do things right for once and I feel like I want to book it out of here screaming.” 

You grabbed his hand and his froze for a moment before squeezing it. 

“You know, I don’t think you should run away.” you said, looking at him. “Only one of us can be a p ussy, and I already took that title in 8th grade.”  

Eddie’s head snapped from the distance to your face, eyes wide. “What?”

“I mean, think about it. You’ve been playing for years at the Hideout, you rock. You know it, I know it, Paige knows it, and I suspect the rest of your band might know it too. You’ve gone this far, you might as well try. What’s the worst that can happen at this point?”

“You-” Eddie stared at you for a second, trying to decide how to respond. You didn’t blame him, you had just started talking at him hoping that something would stick. “...I guess the worst thing is that I could be a pussy for running away.”

“Yeah, and I already claimed that title and already ran away from an audition. We can’t both blow it, Eddie.” you nudged him. “We can’t be that couple that has to constantly copy each other and do things exactly the same. Don’t be a copy cat.”

You could swear there was a slight blush on his cheeks under the glow of the vending machine. “You’re a weirdo.”

“And you’re a freak. The music world is full of freaks. Go in there and get freaky or something.” 

You felt him relax next to you and he pushed himself off the vending machine to face you. “Thanks.” he said and leaned down and kissed you. 

You squeezed his hand as you returned the kiss, and he let his lips linger a bit longer than necessary before there was a cough from the doorway. 

Eddie pulled back and you both looked over to see Paige staring at the two of you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, glancing between the two of you before landing on Eddie. 

Right when you were going to let go of his hand, he squeezed yours tighter and started walking towards Paige. “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

Once he was back in the booth, all eyes were on Eddie as he picked up his guitar and put it on. The men that Paige had been talking to were now in the room, huddled around the panel. One of the guys in jeans was setting up a camera in the recording room, making sure everyone was in frame. 

This time, you made your way to the front as well. It was a bit crowded, but you stood next to Paige with your feet firmly planted on the ground. You were not going to be intimidated by Eddie’s perfect ex after she’d caught the two of you kissing in the hallway. 

Paige leaned in and took the mic to talk to the band. “Alright, whenever you’re ready guys.” she said. 

Okay, maybe you could be a little intimidated. But that doesn’t mean you were going to run away or shrink yourself down. 

This time, you could hear the band from inside the recording room. You saw Eddie turn to Gareth and nod, and in return the drummer counted everyone off. 

The first take was better than what they had shown during warm up. They got through the first verse before one of the men in the suits leaned over to whisper something to Paige that you couldn’t make out before she called for Corroded Coffin to pause. 

Eddie looked over through the window, and any fear on his face had been replaced with all business. Paige gave them a note about their pacing and Eddie nodded and they started up from the beginning. 

This went on for about a half hour with the band playing and then being stopped for notes. Each note was being taken to heart, and with each take they were getting better. 

Which only confused you more when they couldn’t go through a full song without being stopped for some note. You could tell that everyone was getting confused and frustrated that each time they started they had to stop for some reason or another. 

“They’re too polished.” One of the men muttered, looking at Paige. “They look like shit, but they’re playing like a high school marching band.” 

You held back any amusement at the idea of Eddie in that stupid green marching band uniform with the feathered cap. 

Paige sighed, and looked at Eddie with furrowed brows, and gave him another note into the mic. Something was... off. These guys were giving Corroded Coffin note after note, but that wasn’t going to unlock what they really needed. 

“Thanks for coming out tonight, we’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to make you feel like you’re fighting demons in hell!”“

You remembered that first night you had sat and watched them play at the Hideout. That’s what Corroded Coffin was supposed to feel like. They were supposed to be wild and raw, and make you feel like you were fighting in hell. 

Notes from a bunch of suits weren’t going to do that. 

What you were about to do was probably going to overstep so many boundaries, but your impulse control was thrown out the window. 

Taking a step back, you looked at each of the members of the band, trying to decide which one looked the most frustrated. Eddie looked stiff, Zack was fiddling nervously with his guitar, Jeff actually looked the least bothered... and then there was Gareth. Gareth looked like he was trying to burn a hole in his snare drum from the way he was glaring at it. 

Making sure that none of the suits were paying attention to you, you waved your arm at Gareth. He looked up at you confused, probably wondering why the hell you were looking at him right now. You hoped this worked, and you hoped that they’d forgive you for this later. 

“Hey.” you mouthed to the kid. “Fuck you.” 

Gareth blinked and his eyes went wide. He leaned back slightly, staring at you looking offended. 

You gave him your best. ‘Yeah, I said it. What are you gonna do about it?’ face. His grip on the drumsticks tightened as he glared at you. 

You yawned and glanced over at Zack, making eye contact with him. You hated doing this, and knew this was a shot in the dark to give these dumb suits what they wanted. You crossed your arms and looked him up and down, with a condescending smirk, mimicking the way that the popular girls used to look at you. 

You saw him mouth ‘What the hell?’ and this seemed to catch Paige’s attention for a second as she glanced at you while the suits were still muttering to themselves, oblivious to how two of the members of the band were now looking at you like you’d lost your mind. 

Jeff looked over at Gareth and then followed the line of sight to you. He just snorted and shook his head, his fingers absently walking along the strings of his bass. You had a feeling that provoking him wouldn’t do anything, so you looked at Eddie. 

He still looked stiff as he stared at the men watching him. Thankfully it was Jeff who walked over and nudged him and tilted his head towards you. 

There was a serious look in his eyes for a moment before he blinked and his expression softened. You smiled at Eddie. He smiled back. 

Then you pointed at yourself and then at him, earning a confused look as you pretended to dig into your pocket and pulled something out. Once your fist was in view of him, you shot your middle finger up at him. 

His head tilted down, and his eyes widened as you flipped him off. You pretended to dig into your other pocket and presented him with two birds for the price of one. 

“Freak.” you mouthed to him. 

You saw the way his grip tightened on the neck of his guitar and he looked back at his band. They all looked annoyed as they waited for the suits to let them know they could play again. 

Eddie looked at each of them and nodded before turning back to the mic. 

Gareth didn’t even wait for the signal before counting them off and starting their song. They were off, their music blaring through the room at an intensity and rawness that you’d seen at the Hideout, and that night at the talent show so many years ago. 

The suits looked shocked that they had started again so suddenly, but a glance at the men made it clear that they could see exactly what you saw. You took another step back, not wanting to interfere anymore than you already have. 

“Alright, I’m jealous.” Paige said, stepping next to you. 

That... was unexpected. You looked at her, but she was staring at the band with her arms crossed. 

“Sorry?” 

“If all it took was you flipping them off, I would have asked you to do that first.” Paige said. 

“They just needed something to snap them out of their nerves. They play better when they’re not being studied like bugs.” you shrugged, your breath catching slightly as you watched Eddie play. How the fuck did you manage to land a guy as hot as him? 

Paige was watching his as well with a thoughtful expression on her face. The suits had quickly shut up and were now watching Corroded Coffin with the attention they deserved. 

“I had my doubts about the new line up.” Paige admitted. “The first time, it was only Eddie that anyone was interested in.”

Even you? Is what you wanted to ask, but you held your tongue. 

“He works better with them.” she continued. “And with you.”

You glanced at her, but Paige just kept her eyes on the band as they played. 

“I don’t think he ever looked at me like that when we were together.” Paige continued, the corners of her mouth turning up. 

“Like how....?” you managed to asked, thrown for a loop at the turn of this conversation. 

“Like you’re a real person. A friend. A girlfriend.” Paige shrugged. “We had fun, and wanted the same thing but... I don’t think he really saw me. And I don’t think I really saw him.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you kept your mouth shut as Corroded Coffin finished the song with a fire in their eyes. 

There was muttering between the men and the guy who had been in charge of the camera nodded. 

“That was great guys,” one of the men said in to the mic. “Now can you do that again with that AC/DC song-”

Before he could even finish, Gareth was counting them off and they started playing again. This time all the men chuckled at the enthusiasm. 

“You know, we already got the take we wanted.” The recording guy said. 

“I know, but I wanted to hear them play this one. It’s my favorite song.” the suit shrugged. 

“Are you really banking their audition on how well they can cover your favorite song?” Paige asked. 

“Not officially, but it helps.”

With the way the band was playing, you had a feeling this extra credit wouldn’t be a problem. Now that they had found their footing they were now taking off, looking like they were fucking flying as they ran through the song. 

A few requests later from the men, and the boys finally were able to file out of the recording booth, flushed beaming.

The men in the suits shook everyone’s hand with a promise that they will be in touch soon with an offer. 

“And offer...?” Eddie asked. “Wait does that mean-?” He looked between the suit and Paige quickly. 

Paige smiled at him. “I always had every intention of signing you, but we’ll need to talk business to decide on how we can market you all.”

Everyone looked at each other, their eyes wide. It was like it was just now occurring to them that this was really happening. That they had auditioned and were liked. 

“Oh fuck, my mom is gonna freak.” Gareth said, his eyes wide. You had a sneaking suspicion that Gareth may not have told him parents that he was doing this. 

After a few more handshakes and gathering everyone’s contact information, everyone broke down their instruments and started heading to the parking lot. 

“Holy shit.” Jeff was the first one to say anything as they stepped outside of the studio. “Did that really just happen?” 

Eddie, looking a little shell shocked, opened the back of his van and helped put Gareth’s drum set inside. It was silent for a few moments as they all put away their instruments in the back of the van. Eddie turned to look at his friends, who were all staring at their leader for confirmation that what just happened was real. 

You watched as Eddie looked at each of his band mates, his face firm for a moment before breaking out into a wide smile.

“WE DID IT!” He yelled, nearly jumping three feet in the air. The rest of the band followed suit, screaming and cheering and jumping up and down and grabbing onto each other. 

Their joy was contagious, and you watched as they celebrated, your own heart swelling with joy at seeing them succeed. Though you had only known them for a few short months, you couldn’t be more proud of them. 

Firm hands grabbed your shoulders and started shaking you, and you let out a surprised cry, gripping onto Gareth's arms. 

“What the fuck was that about in there?” He asked, laughing his ass off. “We’re in the middle of the most important audition of our lives, and you tell me to fuck off?!”

“Actually, I said fuck you.” you clarified as he shook you again. 

“Yeah, what the hell was with that look you gave me?” Zack asked. 

“You guys weren’t getting anywhere with what those guys were saying- Gareth please I’m gonna puke if you keep shaking me!” you said, and Eddie came to your rescue, pulling the drummer off you. 

His arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in close. “We should be thanking her. She’s our biggest fan and she knew that the best way to get us out of our heads was to piss us off.” 

“I’m just glad it worked. I was really worried that I’d just make you all mad at me instead.” you admitted. 

“We’ll forgive you this time.” Jeff laughed. 

“So now what do we do?” Zack asked. “We just wait for them to call us back?”

“Basically.” Eddie said. “This is gonna be the waiting game for a while. Paige said that they’re still setting up the real studio.”

“The real studio?!” Zack stared at Eddie with his jaw hanging open. 

“I’m sorry, was that a fucking fake studio?” Gareth stared hard at Eddie. “Were we playing for a bunch of fake men in fake suits with fake notes?!”

“No, Gareth the Great, that’s not what happened.” Eddie used his free hand to ruffle the younger kids' curls. “Paige is setting up a studio for Left Turn media around here. She said it won’t be done until next summer.” 

“Dammit, I was hoping that meant we could quit school and focus on the music like you said the first time.” Jeff laughed. 

You looked at Eddie with a raised eyebrow and he shot Jeff a look. “If I have to stick with it, so do all of you.” He said firmly. 

“Dammit.” Gareth muttered. 

A chilled gust of wind cut through you like a knife and you found yourself moving closer to Eddie to steal his warmth and he pulled you closer. 

The drive to drop everyone off back at home in reality was filled with excitement as they all discussed what had just happened. Once they all remembered that you were watching from the other side of the booth, you were bombarded with questions on what the suits had said that they couldn’t hear. You answered everything as best as you could remember, still thinking about how Paige had admitted jealousy towards you of all people. Of course, that’s not something that they would actually care about. 

“They said you all look like shit.” you said from the front seat. “But I think that was a good thing. When you guys were sucking they said you sounded like a high school marching band.” 

This critique was met with yelling and denial but you held your hands up. “Don’t look at me, I’m just a fly on the wall. They shut up pretty fast when you got your shit together though. Also the one in the tan suit liked your cover of Highway to Hell. That scored you points because it was his favorite song.” 

By the time you all entered Hawkins again, they had exhausted every last ounce of information from you. Talks of the audition had been exchanged for dreams of grandeur and what it would be like to be big time rockstars. One by one the band was dropped off, hope in their eyes with the idea that this was the start of something big. 

Once at your apartment, Eddie collapsed on the sofa face first. You smiled and went to the kitchen and brought him a beer. It took a bit of coaxing but he finally sat up and took a long drink from the bottle and smiled at you. 

“Holy shit.” he said. 

“Holy shit.” you echoed. 

“I feel like I’m on top of the world and like I just walked all the way to Mordor.” Eddie shook his head, that smile never fading. 

“Nerd.” you said affectionately, leaning against him. “You did great, Eddie. I’m really proud of you.”

“Yeah?” he looked into your eyes. “I’m... I’m proud of me, too.” 

“You should be, you kicked ass.” You smiled at him. “And they’re gonna come back with a million dollar deal where you get to keep your master copies, get insane royalties, and get you set up with a world tour right away. You’re gonna chart at number one for weeks and you’ll get so popular everyone’s gonna get sick of you within two months.”

Eddie let out a laugh “Everyone’s already sick of me.”

“See? You’re already ahead of schedule. Good for you.” Eddie just laughed and shook his head. “...Not everyone is sick of you.”

Eddie’s hand moved to the back of your neck and rubbed the skin there absently, making goosebumps prickle your skin. “Most of this town is.” He said after a while. 

“Most isn’t all.” you countered. “I’m not sick of you.” 

“A brave woman. You should get a medal for dating the town freak. Most girls run away screaming by now.” He joked. 

“Pfff, you wish you were as scary as your reputation. I’ve been more intimidated by suburban moms at Family Video.”

“Sweetheart, you’re hurting my feelings.” He set his beer down and pulled you in closer. “If word gets out that I’m not the mean satanic spawn everyone thinks I am, then no one will take my music seriously.” 

“I’d make fun of you and point out that you put a lot of D&D references in your songs, but I’ll be nice.”

“I’d hope my girlfriend would be nice to me.” There was a waiver in the keyword in his sentence that you didn’t miss. 

Your heart made a weird thumping movement in your chest and you stared at him. “...Girlfriend?” You managed to choke out. 

Eddie stared at you for a moment, looking as though he had royally screwed up. You felt that arm around you twitch as he decided if he should pull away or not. 

“Yeah I uh...” he stumbled. “Thought maybe since you weren’t seeing anyone else and I wasn’t seeing anyone else-”

“I’d love to.” you said, your whole body felt like fireworks were going off. “I mean, if you’re good with it. I just assumed you’d at least keep me around as a groupie.”

Eddie doubled over laughing, his hair moving wildly as he shook his head. “Groupie implies that I’m going to share you with the band, and there is no way in hell I’m doing that.” 

“Oh good!” you let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Because, between you and me, Gareth is just a tad young for me.” 

“Not into Juniors?” Eddie asked. 

“I generally don’t date high school students at all, but there are exceptions to every rule.” you said, crawling onto his lap and straddling him. His hands moved to rest on your hips and he looked up at you. 

“Listen about that I-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“I’m not gonna judge.” you said. “I had summer school every single year of middle school and sophomore year. It doesn’t change anything.” 

Eddie kept staring at you and took a deep breath. “...I sell drugs.”

Ok, that wasn’t what you were expecting. You stared at him blankly and looked him over. “What do you sell?”

“Are you looking to make a deal, or should I be careful how I answer that?” 

“I’m just looking for honesty.” you said. 

“Weed mostly.” Eddie ran one of his hands through his hair, his rings getting tangled in the curls for a moment. He struggled to break free as he continued. “Bennies... Special K....” 

“I take it that’s not a breakfast cereal.” you said, helping him free his tresses from the heavy rings. 

“No, not exactly.” Despite his wry answer, there was quiet laughter in his voice. 

“I guess it could be worse.” you said. 

“I just want you to know who I am before getting into something you might not want.” Eddie said, his fingers messing with the fabric on your thighs now that they were free from his hair. 

“Eddie,” you cupped his jaw and looked at him. “I like you. You like me. Stop trying to get me to dump you 2 minutes after calling me your girlfriend.” 

“Shit, sorry.” He sighed. “Yeah, I’m being a total dumbass right now, aren’t I?” 

“Only a little.” You dropped your hands onto his shoulders. 

“I know I’m not exactly the biggest catch. I’m a 6th year senior who’s already dropped out once, and a lot of people here think I'm some sort of Devil worshiper.” Eddie leaned back on the couch. “I’m just saying that dating me might not be the easiest.” 

“I’m in if you are.” you said, leaning over him, letting your fingers slide down his chest slowly. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw the doubt in his eyes immediately turn into Boy Brain at your wandering digits. “Are you in?”

His eyes darted down to your hands and then to your eyes and then to your lips. It was a little funny seeing him struggle internally with what you were offering. 

Eddie blinked and snapped out of that daze for a moment before nodding. “I’m in.” 

“Good.” you leaned in and kissed him. “No take backs.”

Eddie leaned up and met your lips in another kiss, deeper than before. His arms moved from your hips to slide around your waist and pulled you closer. You moved your hands back up to wrap around his neck so you could press your body against his. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, losing yourselves in each other as the rest of the word seemed to disappear. When you felt his hand slowly slide up your torso, stopping just below your breast, he pulled back and looked at you. 

“Is this uh... do you mind if...?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at how surprisingly polite he was being. The two of you had made out a few times, but hadn’t exactly taken that next step yet. Not that you hadn’t wanted to, and by the way you shifted and felt that insistent tent in his pants you didn’t think he’d have any objections. 

“Do you want to take this to my room?” you asked. “You can stay here tonight, if you want.” 

Eddie’s expression shifted into a sly smile. “Normally, I’d ask you to buy me dinner first, but you did that already a few times over.”

“Well, then I guess you owe me a few times over.” you smirked. 

“Good thing we have all night.” Eddie stood up as you slipped off of his lap, taking your hand in his. 

“Think you can go all night? Sure you aren’t wiped out from your big audition?” You teased him as you led him to your room. 

“Well, according to you I’m a hotshot rock god who’s about to go on a world tour.” Eddie closed the door and followed you to your bed where you laid down. He pulled his shirt off and crawled on top of you, the pick around his neck sticking to his skin. “If I can jump around on stage for hours and satisfy a stadium of adoring fans I’m sure I can satisfy my girlfriend.” 

“I like the sound of that.” you said, before pulling him into a deep kiss. 

Outside, a layer of snow started to dust the ground, but thee two of you had no trouble keeping warm for the rest of the night. 

a/n: I had a very long think about whether or not to add smut to this story and came to the unfortunate conclusion that it felt weird to add after such a chaste story. HOWEVER, with the series coming to a close within the next 2-3 chapters, I do plan on writing a few side stories. If you all ask REALLY NICE (ie: If at least one person says it lol) I will write smut for Eddie and Reader as a one shot.

We're really coming up on the end here, folks. I really can't believe that you all have stuck around this long. It's been almost a year since I started this story, and I really can't wait to see how this all wraps up! Yes, I know I'm the author, but that means absolutely nothing.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea

@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93

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@moonisu @em022O @cosmorant

[thir10th]

The getaway pt.1 - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

ALL OF THESE CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONES

summary: you and Emily have been dating for several months now. When you finally get a free weekend, you decide to go on a little secret romantic getaway. tw: nothing yet, just fluff, a tiny bit of suggestive content but it's literally just a conversation, nothing else. secret relationship. a/n: you guys seemed to really like the idea so here it is! this first chapter so it's mostly to set the mood

Your leg shakes under the dinner table, waiting for Emily to finish up cooking dinner, her body swings around the kitchen, moving fluidly and confidently at the rhythm of the music she had chosen to play to set the abience.

You know she loves cooking, but you also know after getting home from a week-long case, this is the last thing she wants to do.

She always insists: "no baby, i'll cook, you can just sit there and look pretty, let me take care of it" and you loved her for that, but it hasn't been 12 hours yet since you had chased an unsub for three blocks.

She deserved a break. You both did. You had already decided that.

The pasta plate she sets in front of you with a big smile takes you out of your head, you smile back, it smells amazing, there's no doubt about it.

"I'm starving" she says, dropping on the seat in front of you, grabbing a fork and rolling up the spaghetti.

You move the pasta around, looking at her eat, trying to decide how to phrase it.

"what?" she asks mouth-fulled, noticing your stare.

"I wanted to ask you something" she leaves the fork, slurps up one last spaghetti hanging from her lips, and wipes her mouth with the napkin. Now you have her full attention.

"ugh, I'm... flattered, but-" she says in a sarcastic tone, but you cut her.

"relax, Em, I'm not asking you to marry me" she chuckles "i was thinking... you know how, if no case comes in tomorrow by five, we are having the whole weekend for ourselves, right?" you start.

"yeah, why?" she asks impatiently.

"well, I was talking to Penelope the other day, about how she had found this amazing hotel with Kevin, how they had had the best time, with activities for couples, good food, a big pool, you know, all that" she listens carefully at your words, without interrupting you, takes a sip of her wine, and nods, considering the idea.

"ok look" you grab your purse, taking a booklet you had printed out specifically for this conversation, hoping the images would convince her, you hand it to her so she can take a look.

She runs her eyes, scanning the photos on the booklet and reading over the information.

"it's been a long week, you deserve a break. We deserve a break" you conclude.

"Ooh- each room has a hot tub, and full time room service! and a steam room too?" she points out, looking at the pictures.

"And a balcony with views of the pool from every room! this could be it, Em, it's perfect for us." you add, after spending the whole trip back on the plane looking at their website, you had pretty much memorized it.

Emily angled her head to meet your eye. “If I have my way, you’ll be too occupied to appreciate the views.” the playfulness of her words making you smirk.

"So is that a yes?" you sigh in relief.

"Of course, sign me up!" a wide smile of excitement crosses her face, you let out a triumphant sound, shooting from your seat, walking up to her to grab her face and kiss her lips.

She grabs you by the waist and pulls you to sit onto her lap, your arms surround her neck, her grip tight on your hips to hold you in place.

"Oh, this is gonna be so nice! Think about it, no kids, all inclusive hotel for couples, no more hiding, nothing to worry about, just swim, and sex, and food" she grins at your words, her thumb traces slow circles on the skin left uncovered your shirt

"I could get used to that" she says kissing you again, this time longer, lovingly.

"honey?" she says, pulling away. "Yes?"

"You have already made the reservation, haven't you?" her profiling skills really never fail to amaze you.

"they had an excellent limited time offer, and i was pretty confident you were gonna say yes once I'd show you the booklet" you admit, and she chuckles, instead of getting upset, she just smiles at you and pecks your lips

"what have i done to deserve you?" she says, the dreamy sound of her words making you blush.

"well, dinner just now, and i believe i heard you say something about that balcony? with the views?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She frowns at her computer, sitting on her desk, she has been staring at the screen for a considerable amount of time now, you quietly walk behind her.

"exciting, isn't it?" she doesn't hear you coming by, your words startle her making her jump in her seat

"you scared me" she mutters so no one can hear the conversation.

"sorry" you sit on her desk, right in front of her "i just thought if you're gonna spend the last fifteen minutes staring at the clock, we should do it together"

She tries to fight the smile that threatens to spread on her face, she bites her lip and gives you a loving look with her big doe eyes.

"you know, this room is full of profilers, if they saw you here in my desk only a couple of minutes far from five, they might suspect something is going on here"

"something like what? no one has even noticed i'm here, i seat on your desk everyday, nothing new" you say, her eyes leave the computer screen to look at you now.

"oh, i don't know, something like: we have been dating for three months and as soon as we leave this building we are driving two hours to spend our weekend on a hotel resort for couples?" she says sarcastically.

"i just thought it would be fun to watch when the clock strikes 5:00 together, you know, just like in new year's eve, but without the kissing for obvious reasons. Although there will be plenty of that this weekend" she bites her tongue at your words. Teasing Emily has always been so much fun for you, since it's usually the other way around that she teases you.

"the last thing i want you to remind me is how we are actively lying at the people we care most about" she argues, trying to keep her cool

"well, no need to worry about that anymore" you say, and when you both look at the screen, the clock has turned. 5:00 pm, no case has come in, we're free" you state. You stay there, sharing a moment, you stare at each other's eyes.

"god, but how i wish i could kiss you right now" she mutters breaking the silence, her eyes move down to look at your lips, and just for a moment you consider the possibility of sending it all to hell and kissing her senseless right then and there.

"y/n, any plans for the weekend?" Morgan's presence takes you by surprise, he comes behind you carrying is bag, so close, it had been so close, but you'd have to pull up with your coworker's teasing too.

"uhm, yeah, well, not much, no, just, a movie maybe, but who knows really?" you say, Emily tries hiding her grin, but fails.

"did you hear about Prentiss' weekend?" Morgan asks, you shoot a look at her

"ugh, no, big plans?" you say looking at her, lifting an eyebrow in faked confusion

"She, is going away with her girlfriend" he teases, a cocky smile on his lips.

"a girlfriend?! Prentiss! who is the lucky girl?" you say, a little louder than intended. She looks annoyed now that you're joining the teasing from you coworker.

"it's a secret, apparently" Morgan explains, Emily opens her mouth to speak, but only a defeated sound comes out.

"what? really?" you keep up the play, but she shoots you a look of warning, one eyebrow up, her arm on her hip.

"ok, you know what? I'm gonna leave now, you guys can speculate all you want" she takes her bag, and walks to the elevator, you and Derek follow her closely, she does her best to hide her smile.

"hey, I myself feel pretty offended that she won't tell us, after all we've been through, don't you think I deserve a little better?" he says, holding his hand to his chest, while you three wait for the elevator.

"Now, I'm having some ideas of what you deserve right now" the slightly threatening tone of her voice makes your heart throb. You just want to let her push you against that elevator door, let her do whatever she wants to you.

"you know what, I think I'm gonna keep it to myself, just this one time" she concludes, getting out of the elevator, Morgan whines, but she doesn't let it go.

"ok, this way for me" he says, turning right to go find his parking spot

"I'll walk with you" you tell Emily, the corners of your lips curving into a smile. You both say goodbye to Morgan, he leaves with one last "i hope you have a nice one, Prentiss!" and leaves.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Entering the room, you realize how more spacious and comfortable it is that you though, although you should've guessed, considering the fact that i could fit a hot tub on one corner, a full bathroom and the king-sized bed without making it feel narrow.

The hotel bellboy opens the room for you, hands you both of your keys, and leaves. Emily had already taken it upon herself to carry the bags, as they aren't all that heavy. Plus she loved doing those kinds of things for you, carrying your bags, the kind of things you would tease her about for being the chivalrous kid of girlfriend.

After all, you're only staying for a weekend, even if Emily didn't really understand that you don't actually need that many pairs of shoes for only just two nights total.

You look around everywhere, walk to the bathroom, the shower is perfectly big enough to fit you both, and two sinks. You check the hot tub, nd finish your tour by walking to the windows and opening the curtains.

The broad balcony has two chairs, and direct views to the pool, you're high enough to go completely unnoticed by anyone who looked up from it.

You drop to the big bed, star-fished out, meanwhile Emily leaves both your bags right next to the bed.

You sit up, standing to meet her as she looks around the room herself, appreciating the size of it.

"wow, this is almost bigger than my living room" she says, still surprised.

You walk up to her, grab her by the hips and pulling her to you "what do you think?" you ask, she surrounds your neck with her arms, and kisses you sweetly.

"mh, i love it" she purrs, a soft smile on her lips, and kisses you again, this time softer, longer, her lips soft and reassuring, making sure you knew how much she loved it.

"and I love you" she says, her hands running through your back now, "even if you just spent a considerable amount of time mocking me" she adds, and you chuckle.

"it was perfect, he doesn't suspect a thing!" you try to defend yourself, but she's already kissing your neck, finding your pulse point that she knows drives you crazy

"yeah but you didn't think i'd let you just get away with it just like that, mh?" she says, trapping your earlobe between her teeth and biting it softly.

"well, as much as you know i want this, we have to go down for dinner, because someone claimed she didn't need any directions to find the parking lot, and that took about, half an hour" you say teasingly, giving her a soft swat on her ass, unwrapping your arms off her waist to hold her hand.

Emily pouts at the loss of contact, interwining her fingers with yours "well, i found it didn't i? yes, it might have taken me a little longer than expected...."

"half an hour, Emily! We are gonna miss dinner, c'mon, and you can think about how to 'not let me get away with it' when we get back" you grab the room key, and pull her with you, walking out and heading to the elevator door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

okkk what are we thinking? this was an introduction more than anything, just to set the story.

Feedback here would be greatly appreciated, specially because if you guys have any ideas on how i should continue, or any specific scenarios, i'd be happy to try to add it!!

Like & reblog as always, I'll be publishing the next chapters as i write them so stay tuned for that <33

[triviallytrue]

I see the benefit in “was able to follow along each step and check for myself that the stated claim was true” but I’ve also seen people say the private vetting process can include things like “had a phone call with them where they fluently spoke the Palestinian dialect of Arabic” that can’t be checked by everyone, or “privately showed me their ID/birth certificate/bank info/official documents”, which probably shouldn’t be publicized. if these sorts of things (which seem fairly reliable if true) are indeed being involved in the process in at least some cases, how do you think people should vouch for that beyond a “trust me it’s vetted” without further clarification, or is it impossible to do so from your perspective since they could just lie?

so my suggested solution to these would be:

post a recording of the phone call, so that other Palestinian Arabic speakers can also attest that it's true

post redacted, watermarked versions of official documents

but you're getting at a very big problem: it takes a lot of information to vet people. the post i reblogged was only able to vet that one fundraiser because she's a PhD with a linkedin, instagram, tiktok, and pictures of her on a scientific organization's website. most people won't have that.

at a certain point, it also becomes a nightmare for the vetters (all or almost all of whom i suspect are just people trying their best in a horrific situation). if it takes an hour (or more) to fully vet one single gofundme, there are a single digit or low double digit number speakers of Palestinian Arabic on here with blog histories that stretch back before October 7th with the ability to vet people, and hundreds of gofundmes... well, you do the math.

this is the kind of work that is normally done by people who are paid to do it full-time, in a centralized fashion, not ad-hoc on the internet. amateurs are going to make mistakes - i've seen blogs successfully filtering out unsophisticated scammers, but this current discourse has already rooted out at least 3 scammers who made it onto the vetted lists. it's asymmetric - scammers can do this full time, hone their methods, figure out what exposed them last time and fix it, and overall iteratively improve the credibility of their scams, but vetters can't really keep raising the standards with the time and resources they have access to.

so unless we make the standards so high that they exclude many actual Palestinians (standards like the ones used in that ask), i think there will be some risk of even vetted fundraisers being scams. how big? 1%? 5%? 10%? i don't know, but it's definitely nonzero, and based on the uncovered scams so far, they are diverting thousands of dollars (possibly tens or hundreds of thousands) away from actual Palestinians.

which is why i think people should just donate to the UNRWA. there's a 100% chance your money will go to helping real Palestinians, and while it won't be as impactful for an individual as getting them across the Rafah crossing, that's only an option for a very small percentage of Palestinians anyway. as said before, there are 800,000 Palestinians in Rafah, something like 500 of which cross each day. those that can't cross and the Palestinians in other parts of Gaza deserve aid as well. people are at risk of starvation and have very limited access to medical care. donation to the UNRWA and organizations like it doesn't free anyone, but it does keep them alive, and the money doesn't end up in the pockets of corrupt Egyptian border officials who will wring every penny they can out of Palestinian refugees.

people are, of course, welcome to do whatever they want with their money, but those are my 2 cents.

[trustmypoison]

2 Minus 1 - Act One

Seungcheol is doing good without you. Really good, in fact! He’s got a great job, has his own apartment, and has many friends surrounding him. He’s even done some dating in the three years that you’ve been gone. On some blissful days, you don’t even cross his mind. But when you reappear in his life, he has to come to terms with the fact that he might not be doing as good as he thought he was. 

Genres: ANGST with a little bit of fluff here and there. One suggestive scene (minors, use caution). 

Word count: 6.6k

Requested? Yes!

You can find the series masterlist here.

You didn’t mean to ruin everything.

It’s something you think often, but especially right now, lying in bed just hours after breaking things off with your boyfriend of nearly three years. You tend to ruin a lot of things. You burn the food when it’s your turn to cook. You accidentally break your key off in the lock of your apartment door and have to call maintenance to replace the whole lock along with a new set of keys. You spill your drink all over your laptop midway through writing a paper, with the only saving grace being that the document was saved and backed up. 

You’re a bit of a clutz and sometimes don't think before you act, and most people let it slide. Your most recent ex boyfriend says it’s endearing, teasing you mercilessly for it as he pinches your cheeks and then rescues you, ordering food from the place down the street, or waiting with you while you’re locked out, or handing you his laptop so you can finish your paper. Or at least he did, before you broke the news to him.

You’d gotten a job back home, expecting to finish your law program in a few short weeks. You missed your family, you said. You had lost touch with your friends back home and would like to be able to reconnect. You missed the food, particularly your mom’s home cooking. You missed speaking your native language all the time. 

Some of these were kind of null and void, but Jeonghan doesn’t say anything about it. It’s not important that you both cook Korean food at least a couple times a week in an effort to mend the homesickness both of you have. It’s not important that you speak your native language with him all the time. What’s important is that he’s not going back home after finishing the very same law program because he’s already got a job lined up here. 

It’s devastating really and you tear up again thinking about it. He’s been your best friend since moving abroad for this program. A familiar face from back home that became more because you both clinged to each other in an unfamiliar new place. You’re pretty sure you’ve lost him entirely by deciding to leave, but he insists that’s not the case at all. That you both will still talk. That he’ll see you when he does eventually come home to visit family. That you can come visit him anytime. He even squishes your face, insisting you’ll never be rid of him.

But it feels like history will be repeating itself in a few short weeks, because that’s what Seungcheol said too, a little over three years ago. You know that’s why Jeonghan is being as delicate about this break up as he is. He knows you, Seungcheol, and your shared history. Knows how long you two were together. Knows how bad you felt about leaving Seungcheol to take this opportunity here. Knows how much it hurt when the phone calls and texts stopped, and eventually when you discovered you were blocked on everything. Jeonghan’s promising he won’t do that, that you were friends first and that’s ultimately what’s more important. He knows you've heard it before but he’s urgent about trying to get you to understand that it’s okay now and it will be okay later when you’re oceans away from each other. 

Still, this whole night has catapulted you back in time, thinking about the day after you got your acceptance letter to this program. Seungcheol was showing you apartments online, thinking you both would be moving in together following graduation from your respective bachelor’s programs. That was the discussion at the time, because making it into this program was a pipe dream and you’d already made it into one back home. You know you had to rip the bandaid off because there was no way you could turn down this pipe dream if it could be a reality, but in hindsight you should have done it more gracefully, with more care and consideration for his feelings. 

He hadn’t handled it well. Seungcheol’s emotions usually manifested in anger or frustration and you were on the receiving end of it all that night. Your knee jerk reaction was to be mad about that, specifically that he didn’t seem excited that you’d made it into such a prestigious program or that you were pursuing what you wanted to do in life. Seungcheol matched your temper and always had, so it was a nasty fight. The following week, it wasn’t a make up, but rather a break up. 

He’d calmed down for that conversation by then and didn’t look too surprised when you said that maybe you two should split. That maybe this was a sign that your paths were diverging. He was remarkably unemotional about it, seeming totally resigned to it, but you weren’t. You had weakly asked if he thought you could still be friends. It felt so cliche even back then to ask such a thing, but he had insisted. Yes, of course. We’ve been friends for our whole lives. Of course, we’ll still be friends. You had realized just how naive you’d been about that promise within just a few weeks of moving to California. 

From under your covers, you peer around your room, partially boxed up already. All of this would be back home in just under a month. You were so sure about your reasonings when talking to Jeonghan over dinner, like this was the only solution. Now there was dread in the pit of your stomach, wondering if you’d even be welcome back home anymore the way you felt welcomed here. 

~

Joshua comes over to help you pack. He says it’s payment for all of the coffee you’ve bought him and all the notes that you’ve shared with him over the years. He’s one of yours and Jeonghan’s classmates, a California native that helped you both acclimate here in a way that simply can’t be paid back by coffee and notes, or anything else really. Between the language barrier and not knowing your way around, Joshua had bailed you both out so many times. You and Jeonghan both love Joshua so much that neither of you are ever put out by him third wheeling constantly. 

You also recognize right away that Jeonghan is put him up to this and the payment in the form of packing is a ruse. Not that Joshua isn’t extremely helpful naturally, because he is. You could have called him anytime to help you pack and he’d show up in a heartbeat. But the first thing he says when he comes in is, “I heard you’re single.” He says it lightheartedly without an ounce of flirting, but he didn’t hear that news from you and you didn’t call him for help with the packing.

“You’ve been gossiping, I see,” you respond, trying to stay equally light. Your time is limited with one of your best friends now and you don't want to waste any time crying all over him, though he’d be one of your first choices for that sort of thing. He hands you coffee and sets a box of donuts on the table. 

“I wouldn’t call it gossiping to want to know that two of my best friends broke up. Want to talk about it?”

The question is gentle with absolutely no pressure and you know you can tell Joshua anything, but you purse your lips, shaking your head. “Not sure there’s much to say. I assume Jeonghan told you everything already.” You’re not upset by that. The three of you don’t really have secrets, even the things that should be secret, or at least private. 

“Still,” Joshua insists. “I’m devastated, personally.” You shove him, chuckling, but he doesn’t match the lightness in the moment. “No, I mean it. I understand why, but I was already planning my best man speech.” 

“You can still do that,” you chortle. “Hannie will surely find someone else one day. You’ll still be best man.” 

Joshua gives you a curious look, before shrugging it off and picking up an empty box. “Where do you want to start?”

~

After graduation, you join Jeonghan and Joshua for drinks. Some of your other classmates are there too, but have long abandoned the table, mingling or dancing instead. Joshua puts his head in his hands. “Oh my god, I’m not ready for the Bar.” 

Jeonghan matches with a groan. “Please don’t mention it. We literally just got our diplomas.”

“Fake diplomas,” you tack on. The sleeved one each of you have in Joshua’s car is just a sheet of thin printer paper and you’ll be getting the official card stock ones in the mail in a few weeks. 

“Man, I will not miss your smart ass corrections,” Joshua teases. 

“The better question is, will you miss us?” Jeonghan asks from beside you. He’s been shockingly warm given that you ended things a few weeks ago. He’s still seen you nearly every day and it’s almost as if nothing has changed. 

“You know I will,” you say honestly. “Who else is going to bail me out when I do something stupid or embarrassing?”

“Oh, plenty of people will,” Jeonghan says confidently. “Wonwoo and Mingyu seem excited that you’re coming back. You’ll never be able to get rid of them.” 

This make you scoff thinking of your little brother and his best friend. “You’re right. I’ll never be rid of Wonwoo and, by virtue, of Mingyu.” 

Jeonghan hums, grinning. “Yeah, but look at it this way. They aren’t kids that are following you and Seungcheol around anymore. They’re adults that can actually help if you need it.” He’s right and you know it, but you’re stuck on the mention of Seungcheol and Jeonghan spots it immediately. “Maybe you should reach out to him when you get back. Catch up.”

You automatically shake your head. “No, probably not. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I’ll leave it alone.” Both Jeonghan and Joshua look like they want to say something, but one of your female classmates comes over looking a little tipsy, asking if you’ll go with her to the restroom. It’s the perfect escape and you’d never let your friend go anywhere in a bar alone, so you jump up right away. 

Later that night, Jeonghan is lying with his head on your stomach and you’re brushing a hand through his hair. You two are in a weird limbo where you’re broken up but not quite. Best friends with a little something more lingering. You know it has to end, but it will soon enough. You can draw a line in the sand in a few days when you get on a plane and go home. The lack of physical distance is what makes this harder to have a clean break right now. 

“You know I’m not mad, right?” Jeonghan mumbles into your stomach. 

You don’t pause your motions in his hair. “Are you sure? I would understand if you were.”

“I’m sure,” he insists, moving to lay on the pillow next to you. “I know you missed home. I do too. I’m happy for you to go back, really. To see your family and friends. Maybe even rebuild some burnt bridges.”

You stare at him for a long time, something between anger and confusion building. “Why do you keep insisting that I do that?”

He stares back at you, unflinching at the frustration bleeding into your tone. “Which part? The burnt bridges part?” You nod. He bites his lip. “This is going to sound stupid and you have to pinky promise me that you won’t make fun of me.” 

You buckle up because it’s not often that Jeonghan admits to something embarrassing. “Of course.” You throw up your pinky for him to link with. 

“I had a massive crush on you for years.” Your eyes widen at the confession. It’s kind of funny that you’re hearing this after you’ve broken up with him rather than when you were actually dating or even before, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh because you’re so confused. 

“Hannie, what are you talking about? When?”

He snorts. “I’m not surprised you didn’t notice. It was for most of high school and all of college. Not that I ever expected it to go anywhere because there was always Seungcheol.” He doesn’t sound bitter about it, amazingly. “I still consider it a total fluke that we both ended up here together, much less dated.” 

You feel your eyes water and he spots it quickly, gripping your hand. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel guilty. I promise. What I was trying to get to is that you didn’t notice anyone that wasn’t Seungcheol. You guys were it, you know. Everyone dreams of having a relationship like that. So, I’m not saying you should rekindle anything if you don’t want to. I’m saying he was a major part of your life and maybe you should see if you can salvage some part of that.”

You feel your bottom lip tremble a bit and you feel stupid for it. “I don’t know that there’s any point, Hannie. I don’t know if I’ll even see him, much less what he’ll be like if I do.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he chuckles. “Just think about it, okay? Now, serious question. What are the rules about kissing for the next few days? I have some serious cuteness aggression to get out of my system before you leave.”

This makes you burst into a giggle, but you do let him kiss you. It’s kind of like a long good-bye and it’s a relief to know he doesn’t hate you - not yet, anyway. 

~

Jeonghan and Joshua drop you off at the airport, going through security to smother you with affection at the gate. It makes you cry, which makes Joshua cry, which makes Jeonghan cry. You promise to send them a message when you land, and cry some more in your seat on the plane. 

The flight is long and you’re bleary eyed when you finally do land at your final destination. You keep your promise of shooting Jeonghan and Joshua a text once the wheels touch the pavement, even though it’s the middle of the night now for them. They must have stayed up waiting for your message, because they reply right away. You have to put away your phone before replying because it makes you tear up again and you’re eager to get off of this tin can.

You get your carryon bags and get your larger suitcase from baggage claim, wheeling them out to the pick-up lane. A familiar car is waiting and someone hops out of it when you approach. You pull up your bags short, jaw dropping. “Who are you and what have you done with my baby brother?”

Wonwoo laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Nice to see you too. But do you realize you’re just a year older? ‘Baby’ is a bit of stretch.” 

“Yeah, but you’re dwarfing me now! Look at those shoulders! What kind of battle are you preparing for?” You exclaim. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the jab, though he’s smiling. “The battle of carrying a drunk Mingyu home from the bar. That shit is hard. I’ve been doing his workout plan for a while now.” He grabs both of your bags from you and heads to the trunk of the car. “Besides, did you forget that I’ve been taller than you since you were ten years old?”

“Forgive me if I’m coming to terms with the fact that my baby brother is a full-fledged adult now. I vividly remember teaching you how to tie your shoes,” you pout, crossing your arms. 

Wonwoo snorts, closing the trunk. “Yeah, two decades ago. Come on. Appa and Eomma are waiting.”

The ride home is quiet and familiar. When he pulls into the parking garage, Wonwoo grabs the bags and leads the way to the apartment, letting you in. You can smell the homemade food as soon as you walk in and you’re already tearing up when your parents peek their head out of the kitchen with big grins. “There’s my baby. How was your flight?” Your mother says and both greet you warmly, hugging you despite the fresh stains of sauce on their aprons. 

“It was okay. Nice to be home,” you sniffle. 

Your father looks like he might cry too, so he brushes past the conversation. “Food will be ready in a little bit. You should go rest, maybe shower. Your room is ready.”

“Are you saying I smell?” You chuckle. Wonwoo calls out a short ‘yes’ as he takes your bags down the hall, but your mother laughs shaking her head. 

“All that’s missing is your younger brother,” she says. Bohyuk is away at college, having already moved back into the dorms last week, so he can’t be here for your little welcome party.

You do take a shower and change, feeling a little refreshed and smelling less like an airplane than you did before, and you take a look around your room. It’s largely unchanged from last time you were here. Your parents had always insisted on keeping it that way until you were on your feet, and you were kind of thankful that they didn't turn it into a guest bedroom as soon as you left for college the first time, or even the second when there was no guarantee you’d move back. They did the same thing with Wonwoo and Bohyuk, though Wonwoo finally insisted on retiring his room by just moving his things out. You’re getting teary eyed again, so you go back to the kitchen to help your parents finish dinner. 

Wonwoo stays for dinner. Your parents give you their updates, even though they’re sparing. You talk to them every week anyway, and they both like their routine of going to work, coming home, and working on various hobbies in their spare time. Your mom has picked up a new book series, which tracks. You and your siblings are all voracious readers because of her. Your father is fixing up an old motorcycle. You tease him, asking if this is a midlife crisis, but he good-naturedly agrees that it most certainly is. 

Wonwoo tells you about his job at an IT consulting company - it’s fine despite being kind of dull and pays decently. He tells you that Mingyu loves his job at the architecture firm and really hasn’t changed much. He teases that his best friend is very excited to see you, someone he’s supposedly always had a school-boy crush on. You brush it off, because this has been brought up over and over for years. Mingyu’s a sweet guy no doubt, but since he’s never said anything to you, you haven’t addressed these rumors.  

Finally, your jaw clenches when Wonwoo says Seungcheol is also good, working as a business partner for one of the many companies that have offices downtown. He says he’s done quite a bit of climbing on the corporate ladder over the last few years and stays busy but Wonwoo still keeps up with him. This doesn’t surprise you. Wonwoo’s known him his whole life, just like you, but all you can manage to say is, “That’s nice.”

Then, your parents asks you for your updates, like when your shipment should be here. You’d had to mail most of your stuff and it will go straight into storage for now, but you’ll need help with it when it arrives, which should be in a couple weeks. Your mom asks when you start your new job, to which you answer three weeks. Your new employer was generous about giving you some time to settle in after moving. 

There’s something so warm yet so unfamiliar now about being here. It doesn’t quite feel like home and you don’t get a ton of sleep. 

~

Mingyu scoops you up and swings you back and forth a few times as soon as he sees you. Much like your shock at the airport last night, you have to acknowledge that Mingyu isn’t the little kid that chased you around with bugs or pushed you off the jungle gym. The gym workouts have been effective because you’re suffocating between his arms and chest. “Okay, put me down,” you choke out, not sounding nearly as demanding as you wish. 

Still, he plops you down on the ground again, grinning wide. “I’m happy you’re back!” His ingenuity warms you but you can’t let it show. You still have nightmares about bugs chasing you sometimes and you will forever have a fear of heights because of him.

“How did you get by without me?” You tease, having to look up at him. Just like with Wonwoo, he’s been bigger than you for most of your life, but there’s an absence of the childlike quality, or perhaps the immaturity, that both of them had when you left three years ago. 

“I was totally miserable,” Mingyu says and you can’t really tell if he’s joking. Still, he flings his arm around your shoulders. “Come on, you’re going out with Wonwoo and I.”

You groan. “But I’m all jet lagged.”

“And you need to adjust to this timezone by staying up for now,” he insists, sounding way wiser than you think you’ve ever heard him sound. “You’ll sleep well tonight if you stay up for now. Go get ready.” He shoves you back towards your bedroom. 

That’s how you end up at a BBQ place for lunch. You sigh at the first bite because KBBQ restaurants back in California can try, but it just can’t compare to this. Wonwoo and Mingyu take turns at the grill, keeping your plate full until you can’t eat anymore. You insist on a walk around the block or two to work some of it off.

Wonwoo and Mingyu are reminiscing about the time in college where you won a drinking contest, if only because you were bet that you couldn’t. Your stomach turns at the story and you wish you understood how they got onto this conversation. 

You groan. “Please, I was so sick that night.”

“Oh, I remember. We had to take turns holding back your hair because we were all sick too,” Mingyu reminded. 

“You are one of the two worst Leos I know. Can’t let a challenge slip by, can you?” Wonwoo chortled. 

You’re about to make a comment throwing Mingyu under the bus too for being the Aries that he is, but Mingyu’s interrupting. “Speaking of Leos.” 

A figure has exited the coffee shop up ahead and is heading your way. You feel your stomach lurch. This was precisely the thing that you were hoping to avoid, and naturally you’d have to face it the first full day you’re back home. 

“Cheol, what’s up?” Mingyu greets loudly. Seungcheol perks up, holding up a coffee in place of a wave. In his other hand is a bag, likely lunch. You remember it’s a Wednesday of all days, and Wonwoo and Mingyu must have taken off work to see you today. Even without the lunch in, it would have been obvious it’s a workday because Seungcheol’s in a business suit.

Seungcheol looks good, cheerful even. “Mingyu, Wonwoo. It’s been a minute! How are you guys doing?” 

“Good, good. Just out to lunch,” Wonwoo answered. 

“Same. Not working today?” Seungcheol asks conversationally. 

“No, we couldn’t go to work today. It’s too special,” Mingyu says, and Seungcheol raises an eyebrow in question. “Look who’s back?” Somehow, Mingyu knows you’ve crept around to hide behind Wonwoo’s back without looking your way and he tugs you out to stand between them, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. 

Seungcheol’s response is instantaneous. Shock, and then anger, and then conflict flash across his face before he can slap a friendly smile back on. “Oh, Y/N. This is a surprise. When did you get back?”

“Hey, Seungcheol.” It feels awkward to call him that because he’s been Cheol since you could speak, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t want you to call him that. “Last night, actually. Wonwoo and Mingyu are trying to help me past the jet lag today.”

“Oh yeah, that’s tough. How long are you staying for?” He asks. Either it’s genuine or he’s gotten good at faking that he cares, but you can’t be sure. You don’t really feel like you know the person in front of you anymore. The Seungcheol you knew three years ago before your breakup, or even before you got together in the first place, would have scooped you up in a hug on sight, much like Mingyu did this morning. This Seungcheol wants his distance in every sense of the word. You’re kind of surprised he isn’t making an excuse to sprint away. 

You smile and shrug. “Indefinitely? I finished my law program and got a job here. We’ll see where it takes me.”

You see his eyes flare at the news, but he’s masking the rest of his reactions well. “Good for you, Y/N. I’m sure Wonwoo and Mingyu are excited to follow you around everywhere again.” It sounds playful and your brother and Mingyu laugh like it is, but the words sting a little. Growing up it was always the four of you - Wonwoo and Mingyu were following around both you and Seungcheol. Now the group is fractured and it feels like it's all your fault. 

“Thanks, Seungcheol. It’s nice to be home,” you say simply, only because you’re afraid of what else might slip out if you keep talking. 

“Well, I need to get back to the office. My lunch hour is almost over. But you all will be at my birthday thing this weekend, right?” Seungcheol asks. You’re fading behind the broad shoulders that you made fun of Wonwoo for yesterday because you’re sure you're not included in that. 

“Yeah, we’ll be there. We’re celebrating Y/N’s birthday the day before, if you’re free.” These plans are a total surprise to you, but when Wonwoo says it, Mingyu doesn’t look surprised. 

Seungcheol hesitates only for a split second, but that split second stings you even more than the rest of the conversation before. Until you moved away, you’d never not celebrated each other’s birthdays. Growing up, most of your parties were hosted together since you were born the day before he was. You remember crying on your first birthday away from him if only because he hadn’t even wished you happy birthday. And you couldn’t wish him happy birthday the following day because you discovered you were blocked. “Sure. Send me the time and place.” 

Seungcheol says good-bye and Wonwoo and Mingyu start walking again, albeit much quieter than before. Wonwoo pats your shoulder a couple times in comfort. “Well, we were thinking about surprising you, but the cat’s out of the bag now. What do you want to do for your birthday?” 

“Oh, you know we don’t have to do anything,” you start, but Mingyu’s putting you in a light headlock. 

“Oh no. We’re doing something. You should pick before we do,” he threatens. 

You groan, wiggling out of his arms, shoving him back, not that it does anything. You’re only free because he let you out of the headlock. “Fine, I’ll think about it. You know I don’t want anything big though.”

“Too bad,” Wonwoo says, totally unsympathetic. “We’ve already invited everyone, we just have to tell them when and where.” It’s clear you can’t win this one, so you just agree to let them know.

~

You pick a bar. You aren’t typically a huge drinker, but you have fond memories here from your undergrad days. The whole group does because you all frequented it, even when you probably shouldn't have. It feels appropriate to pick this place if only because this was the birthday celebration place for the entirety of undergrad. 

It hasn’t changed much. It’s still a college dive bar, complete with sticky counters and floors, squeaky stools, and totally flat booth seats, but it’s pretty empty of college students because the fall semester hasn’t kicked off yet. Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Jun are already there when you arrive with Wonwoo and Mingyu. Soonyoung might as well have tackled you, but Jun’s and Woozi’s hugs are a little softer. They all look genuinely excited to see you, and it eases some of the anxiety you had about moving back. You hadn't been the best at keeping up with them over the last few years, but it seems that it's all water under the bridge to them. 

Mingyu buys the first round and you can barely keep up with the interrogation that they have for you. How was California? How is it to be back? How was law school? When are you taking the bar? When do you start your new job? At some point in this interrogation, Seungcheol has snuck into a seat at the end of the table, beer in hand. If anyone is surprised to see him, they don’t say it. You’re certainly surprised, assuming he’d bail. 

By the third round, your interrogation has dwindled to the occasional question, but there’s lively conversation all over the table now. It’s frankly a little overwhelming, and at some point, you have to escape to the restroom for a breather. What you don’t expect is for Seungcheol to be waiting outside with a look you’re very familiar with. 

“Y/N, you know you shouldn’t run off alone in a bar like that,” he scolds lightly. 

The way he’s looking at you makes you stall out for a minute. You didn't think he’d notice or care. Then, when the wheels start turning, you speak with a little more attitude than you intended. “I’m a big girl, Cheol.” The nickname slips out before you can stop it, but you don’t bother correcting it, because he’s already heard it. 

He’s pursing his lips, dimples on display despite not looking very pleased. “I know you are, but still. You haven’t been away that long. Did you go by yourself like that in California?” There’s obvious concern laced in his voice.

“No, not typically,” you drawl. “But I had a few female friends there that I could go with. I didn’t really think about it just now.” 

You can see that he knows what you mean. All of your friends here are guys for the most part. Finally, he shrugs. “Just grab one of us next time to wait outside for you. Come on, they’re on the next round already and demanding that the birthday girl catch up.”

You go back to the table and do catch up. More than catch up really because your head his spinning that Seungcheol doesn’t seem to hate you, at least not as much as you thought. You really thought he’d never speak to you ever again, but he still seems to have a little concern for you. Wonwoo has to steady you when it’s time to leave. He takes you back to his and Mingyu’s apartment where you pass out on the couch almost immediately. 

~

Seungcheol picks another bar, albeit down the street. This one is not the college dive bar like you picked, but a little higher class. When you arrive with Wonwoo and Mingyu, Seungcheol greets you all warmly, or warmer than you expect anyway. Mingyu comments that the place is cool, and Seungcheol says that he’s come here with coworkers a few times and liked it. Then he tacks on, “Besides, Y/N took my idea by picking our usual place last night. Can’t go to a college dive bar two nights in a row at our big age.” It’s lighthearted and it somehow pulls a laugh from you. Before you two left, you’d always argue and say ‘Hey! That was my idea!’ It feels familiar and lighthearted in a way that you aren’t sure you deserve. 

The table has a lot of the same crowd as last night, plus a few of his coworkers. It seems a lot of your mutual friends already know them, but Seungcheol still introduces you to Minghao, Vernon, Seungkwan, and Chan. When he does, he simply says that the two of you go way back and have known each other your whole lives. They’re polite - friendly even - but you down the drinks again tonight if only to forget that Seungcheol didn't even call you a friend, much less acknowledge your former romantic relationship. You know you have no right to be upset by it, but you think you could cry into your shot glass if you don’t keep distracting yourself. At some point, Wonwoo and Mingyu trade your drink for water, cutting you off. 

Wonwoo and Mingyu also don’t say much when you do actually cry on their couch, instead just throwing a blanket over you and letting you curl up between them. Maybe you shouldn’t see Seungcheol again, if only for your own mental health. 

~

The weeks fly by after that. Your things arrive and are delivered directly to the storage locker you’ve rented, and Wonwoo and Mingyu show up to help you toss things inside to organize later. Your plan is to find an apartment sooner rather than later to not mooch off your parents any longer, so all of it will have to come back out anyway. 

It’s your first day at your new job. You get there early, dressed as nicely as you can with what you had in your suitcases, making a mental note of going to the storage unit over the weekend to dig for a few nicer things that you hope are stashed away in there. Otherwise you’re stuck shopping and you dread it because the flight back home wasn't cheap and neither was the shipment for the rest of your things. But today, you manage to find a pencil skirt, dress shirt, and heels. It’s the picture of business professional and the safest bet until you get a feel for what the dress code is really like here. 

The receptionist on the first floor sends you to the fourth floor to meet with HR and fill out paperwork. This takes more than an hour and then the HR manager walks you up to your direct supervisor’s office on the tenth floor. You’ve spoken with Mrs. Jang a few times over the phone since interviewing and accepting the position. She’s the manager over the Contracts department here and is a law grad herself. She seems strict, no-nonsense, and despite the urge to impress her, you think she’ll be a great person to learn from because of the experience she has in other facets of law outside of practicing as a lawyer. 

Mrs. Jang leads you to a small office, resembling a windowless shoe box rather than the glass paned, spacious office that she has. She’s even a little apologetic as you follow her in. “We’re a small department,” she excuses. “Just you, me, and Seokmin. So unfortunately there’s not a ton of office space for us.”

The man you assume to be Seokmin spins in his chair and waves, introducing himself. When Mrs. Jang hands you off to Seokmin to get acquainted, you learn he’s not just friendly. He gives off the vibe that he wants to be everyone’s best friend and it’s incredibly endearing. This is a good thing because you guys can touch each other’s computers from your own desks. You better like him, or this office setup would suck. 

Seokmin tells you that there’s not much going on at the moment for your department, because the company is coming out of a freeze on new deals, but there’s one on the docket to start drafting in just a few weeks to prepare for the new quarter. Simple enough, maybe you’ll have some time to adjust to the new place before being thrown into the fire.

Seokmin leads you to the cafeteria on the second floor at lunch time and you sit together, chatting about anything that comes to Seokmin’s mind, which seems to be a lot. He also seems to have friends in every department and many of them stop by to interrupt and say hi to him. Seokmin isn’t shy to introduce you and you feel like you’ve met a hundred people by the time you put your trays away. 

You’re exiting the cafeteria when you hear your name called out down the hall. It surprises both you and Seokmin and you see a group coming down the hall. A familiar group. Seungkwan is waving at you with a big smile, Minghao, Vernon, and Chan trailing him. Your stomach sinks, but you slap on a smile. 

“You did not say you were working here of all places,” Seungkwan admonishes good-naturedly. 

“That’s because I didn’t know you guys worked here. I had no clue it was relevant,” you excuse. 

“You know Seokmin, so you must be in Contracts,” Minghao observes light-heartedly. 

“That’s right, first day,” you respond. 

“I guess we’ll be seeing you in a few weeks then. Our team is the one with the first potential contract of the quarter,” Vernon says. 

You smile, nod, and pray you don’t look totally awkward. “I guess so. It’s nice to know a few friendly faces here right away.” You fear that your awkwardness has been unmistakable when Seokmin nudges you and says you both should head back upstairs.

As soon as the elevator doors close, you sigh, slumping against the wall. Seokmin raises an eyebrow, looking highly entertained. “Okay. Vending machine and coffee first, then you have to tell me what the hell that was about.” You give him a look, but he shakes his head right away. “Oh no, I just saved you back there. You owe me.”

You didn't intend on trauma dumping on your new coworker on your first day - or ever really - but the recent revelation had you spilling your guts between sips of coffee and bites of cookies. If those four are here, that means that Seungcheol is too because they were specifically introduced to you as his coworkers. Seokmin’s eyes widen as you explain, slowly propping his feet up on his desk to lean back in his chair and stare at the tiled ceiling. “Wow,” he drawls out. “So you’re the one that had him so bent out of shape when he started here.”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

Seokmin nods between bites of his own cookies, looking at you from his reclined position. “Oh yeah. I hear he was far from the most pleasant person to work with when he started. Rumor was someone had broken his heart pretty badly, but nothing was ever confirmed.”

You’re hung up on so many things. The casualness of the behavior of some of the employees here, namely Seokmin feeling comfortable to put his feet on his desk and let his computer go to sleep. The gossip that got around here, even to this seemingly little corner of the building. And the fact that Seungcheol was unpleasant. In all the years that you’d known him, you could count on one hand the number of times he was ‘unpleasant’, and you would argue that most of those were deserved.

With a groan, you ask when this meeting is. Seokmin jiggles his mouse and logs in, clicks to his calendar and tells you the date. Too soon, you think. He says he’ll forward you the meeting invite as you let your head drop onto your keyboard. 

[affogato-analysis]

Caitlyn as a symptom of Piltover’s violence

No because i need to throw hands with both her haters and lovers.

Mass spoilers for Arcane, season 1 & 2, for every characters.

(post is like 2k words)

(small edit it's been five hours and you guys are so kind and positive?? i love you so much, the conversations are so fun! the reblogs i see u and ily, my ego is soaring! i got more arcane rants coming if u wanna tag along idk lmao)

(thanks a lot is all i mean to say)

Was what Caitlyn did in season 2 act 1 terrible? yes. Does that make her a terrible person? debatable. Is she the best girl ever and above any criticism? also no what the fuck.

What happens to Caitlyn, essentially, is that she loses her mother and burns for justice and vengeance, and is willing to do all she can to reach her goal. Which is not an uncommon arc in Arcane, to be willing to burn it all for your family and getting overwhelmed by anger and loss.

The main difference is the scale and power dynamics. Because the chembarons have their shimmer, Vi has her gauntlets, Powder and Jinx have bombs, Silco and Vander have allies but they quite match each other when it comes to power until the very end.

So why is Caitlyn’s case so apart from the others? Here’s the thesis: Caitlyn is a symptom and the harm she causes is a consequence of Piltover’s domination over Zaun. I will argue for it thank you.

The main characteristic of Caitlyn, in the context of Piltover leading a targeted assault on Zaun, is that she is the one with power. Caitlyn is, first and foremost, a Kiramman. The show’s explicit about the power of the name, because with the name comes respectability, status, wealth. The Kiramman family is a powerful one, that’s why Ambessa chooses her above Salo. Both Cait and Salo have enough hatred for the Undercity to follow her lead if she plays her cards right, but Caitlyn, even if not officially appointed, has the power to exist in the Council’s room. Salo is nothing beyond the Council — and while it gives him power, his own family or personal entreprises are irrelevant enough that we do not know of them — while Caitlyn is powerful even without the Council — she does bypass every standard enforcers recruitment procedures to get Vi in, and thus we are told that she is one of the most important if not the main funder of the enforcers. In a state holding its peace through sheer violence and constant repression (especially after Jinx’s rocket), if one private actor owns your police force, you are at that actor’s mercy (which, yes, does turn on Cait when Ambessa’s soldiers take over).

Most importantly for us, the Kiramman hold one monopoly of power over Zaun. A vital need of Zaun they are the only ones to answer. Yes, we’re talking about the vent system. Caitlyn, in her anger and in her determination to do whatever it takes to get to Jinx, is willing to use every power she has. That includes her rifle and her aim, when she takes the shot at Jinx despite Isha and Vi standing in between, but also the vent system.

And as we’ve said, Caitlyn is going through a fairly usual character arc in Arcane of becoming a monster for love, for family, only to be brought back by love and family (Vander i’m looking at you) (and then that culminated into nothing to serve Viktor’s character arc tihi) (i mean it when i say Caitlyn has an amazing arc). It just so happens that Caitlyn owns Zaunites’ right to breathe. Is it immoral to weaponize it? Absolutely, and we can deplore the lack of political repercussions on the Kiramman in the show but that’s a more general criticism: the audience and the Zaunites are expected to just forgive Piltover to ally against Noxus. We can have sincere grievances about that (i do, and a lot of caitlyn hate comes from there from what i’ve seen) but it’s not a Caitlyn exclusive problem.

The thing is, Caitlyn’s weaponizing of the vent system isn’t the root of Piltover’s oppression or of enforcers’ violence. It’s a symptom of this violence. Cait can weaponize the vents because she owns them, because Zaun’s clean air is her possession. Because Zaun’s vital needs are dependent on Piltover. Cait doesn’t even realize just how much she’s hurting Zaun. She knows she’s gassing them but, and to her credit, it’s a fairly targeted assault (what Cait is doing isn’t terrorism!) but she is a reminder that whatever little fresh air they have, it’s still a mercy from Piltover. Piltover engineers a problem and a solution and holds that solution above Zaun’s head to silence their protest. This is domination, this is the root of that vent system being oppression still: the Kiramman hold Zaun’s air hostage and it took two mourning girls for that hand to cut off the air flow.

Caitlyn makes herself an enforcer of that violence in her grief, and that’s the symptom of a deeply ingrained disease. The root of that disease is always, always the inequalities between Piltover and Zaun.

The violence is the symptom of a system that is critically failing, repression means your governing body is illegitimate, weaponizing clean air is oppression to its finest.

To argue this point a bit further, we’re gonna circle back to Silco and Vander and how their power dynamic influences their behaviors and how their power struggle drives the entire undercity.

Vander and Silco both benefit from powerful allies. Vander has Grayson, Benzo and his position as bartender of the Last Drop makes him a valued member of the Undercity for Zaunites. Silco has Singed, Sevika and an entire network himself. They are two pillars of Zaun, creating a status quo that they work to maintain (at least their own position of domination) while furthering their own goals: Vander wants to raise his kids, Silco wants the independence of Zaun. Two vastly different sets of goals admittedly and that’s what leads them to reach out to vastly different individuals to help maintain it. Vander seeks out Grayson with whom he strikes a deal, while Silco allies with Singed for shimmer.

And when power suddenly shifts, when the right conditions appear, when the status quo is shaken, that’s when Silco asserts his power over Vander and his domination over the Undercity. Vander is put in a vulnerable position (his deal with Grayson isn’t enough anymore and he’s arrested) and Silco seizes the opportunity, deploys a power he has a monopoly over (shimmer). And after Silco wins against Vander, he can deploy his power over all of Zaun.

The status quo between Piltover and Zaun is constantly imbalanced. Piltover has already won at the beginning of the show and has been asserting, over and over again, through violence and in an abusive fashion, its domination on the Undercity. Caitlyn is like Silco in that comparison, she uses a power over which she has a monopoly (vent instead shimmer), in an unbalanced situation that puts her in the situation of the oppressor.

(And facing her, there is someone who is willing to turn that power against her. Just like Vander using Shimmer to protect his children, Sevika and Jinx using the vents for their own colorful clouds.)

Cait isn’t a poor innocent victim of circumstances but you have to acknowledge context and, in a show where parallels are so frequent, you can’t pretend she’s a completely unique character going through a completely unique arc completely unrelated to anyone else. If you hate her, hate a lot of other people too!

And, as is typical in Arcane, characters are monsters for love, and brought back by love.

And Caitlyn’s arc shows that! Past arc 1, she was lost. Vi had left, Jayce was missing, her mother was still dead even if after all she did, her father was a shadow of himself, the only one she had was Ambessa who was fueling her vendetta to further her own colonialist agenda. Suddenly she was alone, serving as a puppet on top of a pile of gold and too much power she couldn’t control. She can’t call back the gas once it’s out after all, she can’t call back the martial law Ambessa installed now that the resentment is growing in Zaun and that Ambessa is the one holding the reins of enforcers.

That’s why her switching sides was so immediate: when Vi calls her cupcake, she brings the girl forth, before the monster. She gives her love and Cait latches onto it, and uses it to pull herself away from that trap she walked right in. “Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? For love” & “Is there anything as undoing as a daughter?”: love is forever the way in and out of hate.

I am very disappointed that we never got a proper conclusion to the tensions between Zaun and Piltover. I wish we had witnessed negotiations between Ekko/Sevika/Jinx/a representative of Zaun and the Council, I wish they had gotten control of the vent system, promises of fair trade, independence, something. I wish Caitlyn had been made to apologize and deliver herself the keys to the vent system to Zaunites. I wish for a lot of things about the political resolution in season 2 and the show did not go how i wanted it to. Does deviating from what I wanted inherently make the show bad? No, although I do think it wasn’t the greatest this time around.

I however can not talk shit about the character arcs. Not all are as well crafted as Caitlyn but i will take no more Caitlyn slander on the basis of “she’s a fascist!”. 1- that’s not what fascism is, although she did walk a line close by; 2- she’s a symptom of oppression, and by reproducing she makes herself an agent of it. She weaponises Zaun’s air because she can because she’s in power because she’s the heiress to the Kiramman. Doesn’t make what she’s doing less harmful, but it has to be treated in context. Caitlyn is still a twenty something grieving girl with her entire world shaken up, she just so happens to also be the heiress to an extremely wealthy and powerful family in an oppressive system and every path that opens to her, in the midst of her hatred, brings her to reproduce that domination in the most efficient way she has access to: the vents and the enforcers.

And, yes, by reproducing domination she is also an engineer of it. It’s important to acknowledge that what she's done is bad to put it simply, but do not denature her character to fit a conception of her that is easy to hate. I will put part of the blame on internalized misogyny too, as it pushes us to have less leniency and tolerance for women’s mistakes. No because I haven’t seen half that much hate towards Silco who, reminder, made the Undercity kneel by giving them severe shimmer addiction (engineering an issue and making himself the sole owner of the solution while maintaining it as a form of domination, everyone see where i’m going with this?).

Again, do I wish we’d seen more of the political consequences on Caitlyn of that? Yep, absolutely. But I will not blindly hate on her while ignoring the global context of her actions and I invite you to do the same.

Tell me, do you hate Jinx for her so-called terrorist acts or do you see them as part of resistance against Piltover? You can not see the context when you like it only i’m afraid, and, in an unprecedented show of nuance for the internet, we can understand context and acknowledge moral complexity and still hate someone.

Hate Caitlyn if you want, but do it in a constructed way so we can argue together please! I need to talk about this show so badly, please hate the enforcers and the change in Cait’s character but do so in a well-argued fashion, i beg of you.

[schrodingerspsycho]

Another Shot - Chapter 1

Pairing - Sam Carpenter x Reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 1.5k

Summary - Enemies to Lovers. An unexpected reunion throws you for a loop.

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You heard the bell above the door ring and started making your way to the front counter. It was a slow day and Tara, your new coworker and friend, was already up there, but you liked talking with the customers. You saw she was already helping the group and planned on hanging back in case she needed anything. That was until you recognized the tall woman grinning down at her.

“Sam?” You approached the counter cautiously, and her face fell when she saw you. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Y/N.” Her icy tone paired perfectly with the cold look in her eyes. You glared back at her. You couldn’t believe she had the gall to treat you this way; as if you were the one who-

“Wait, you two know each other?” Tara’s eyes darted between you, undoubtedly trying to decipher the tension that hung in the air.

“Yes,” you replied, without sparing her a glance. “We used to… hang out. Back in Modesto.”

“What are you doing in New York?” Sam asked, and you felt the pang of a long-forgotten hurt pierce your heart.

“I told you I was saving up to start classes at NYU,” you said, the bite in your voice sounding more like a whine. “You know moving here was my dream. We talked about it so many times.”

“Well, I must’ve forgotten,” she said unapologetically. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” you snapped back. “It has.”

“Woah,” breathed the guy standing behind Sam. The girl next to him slapped his arm.

“Why don’t you introduce us to your friend, Tara?” she blurted with a forced smile. “Since they’re already well acquainted with Sam.”

“Yes! This is my friend Mindy and my boyfriend Chad,” she said, and they waved at you. You smiled back at them, determined to leave Sam in the past where she belonged. “And this is Y/N. They were my trainer when I first started, and they’re my favorite person to work with.”

“Aww, thanks, T,” you smiled, placing an affectionate hand on her shoulder. Sam’s eyes flashed toward you dangerously, and you relished the fact that you could piss her off so easily. It was far from the comeuppance she deserved, but the small satisfaction almost took away the sting of seeing her again. “I’ll let you take care of your friends here. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nodded.

“It was nice to meet you,” you said, waving to Chad and Mindy. You couldn’t help but glare at Sam as you left, your emotions getting the better of you. “Of all the fucking people that could’ve shown up tonight,” you muttered to yourself, “why did it have to be her?”

You busied yourself with wiping down the trays, trying your best to keep your mind off of Sam. Fortunately, you were still an expert at that, and soon you were so engrossed in your task that you didn’t see Tara approaching you.

“Hey, what’s your beef with my sister?” she demanded. She didn’t sound angry, which was a relief, but she showed no intention of letting the matter go.

You shook your head, avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“That was not nothing!”

“It’s in the past,” you declared. “If you really want to know, you can ask her what she did. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Her brows were knotted together in a troubled expression, her voice losing the loud confidence she always had. You didn’t have to know Sam to know she hadn’t told her little sister anything about the years she’d been away. But unfortunately for you, you did. You sighed.

“It was personal shit. You don’t need to worry about it. But it would be best if you take her order whenever she comes in here.”

Tara nodded and headed back to the front of the diner. Even though it was half an hour early, you decided to clean the bathrooms. Anything was better than having to face Sam again.

“Okay, what was that?” Mindy whispered loudly as they sat down.

“What was what?” Sam said, refusing to meet her eyes.

“That thing between you and Tara’s coworker! What did they do? I haven’t seen you that unhappy to see someone since Ghostface!”

Sam closed her eyes and shook her head. “What? No, that’s not… no.”

“Oh, c’mon! You used to “hang out” back in Modesto? What does that mean?”

“Hey, that’s Sam’s private business. She doesn’t have to talk about it if she doesn’t want to,” Chad said, ignoring his sister’s gasp of betrayal. Then he turned to Sam with the most adorable, pleading expression he could muster. “But I’ll buy you a milkshake if you tell us what happened.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to bribe me? With a milkshake?”

“Is it working?”

“No, it’s not,” she replied, smiling in spite of herself. Mindy slapped Chad’s arm.

“Damn it, that totally would’ve worked when we were kids! Why aren’t you cute anymore?”

“Hey, I’m cute! I’m very cute, ask anyone! You think I’m cute, right, Sam?”

Sam just rolled her eyes. She was glad that after all these years the twins were still the same goofballs they’d always been, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a pain in the ass sometimes.

“-No, wait, shut up! We have to get to the bottom of this!” Mindy exclaimed, interrupting the argument she had started. She turned back to Sam, still far too excited considering what she was probing her about. “Please, you have to tell us! I’m literally going to die if I don’t hear this tea!”

Sam sighed and rubbed her eyes. She knew they weren’t going to stop. “We were friends, and then we had a fight. There’s really nothing else to report.”

“You are such a terrible liar, you know that?” Mindy smirked. “Fine, if you won’t tell us, we’ll figure it out on our own.”

Sam groaned, knowing she meant they planned to use Tara to get to her. But it wouldn’t work this time. Not even her beloved baby sister could get her to relive what had happened with you. At least, not for anyone to hear. That dreadful night had been replaying in her head from the moment she saw you, merciless in its vividity.

Luckily, the twins dropped the interrogation, and she didn’t see you again for the rest of the night. But the damage was done. You were in New York City and back in her life. Of all the places Tara could’ve chosen to go to school- to work- why did you have to be there too?

Sam tried not to think about you, she really did. But she’d never been good at keeping you off her mind, at least not on her own. She was thankful for the chaotic distraction the twins provided with their constant light-hearted bickering, but when they left for the bodega to get a midnight snack, she was left alone with her memories of you.

Before she could spiral too much, Sam heard the front door open. At first, she was relieved to see Tara. But she should’ve known better.

“Hey, how was the rest of your shift?”

“It was fine,” Tara replied with a tight-lipped smile. “What happened between you and Y/N?”

“What?”

“I asked them, and they told me to ask you what you did.” There was a look of apprehension in her eyes, but it wouldn’t be outdone by her morbid curiosity. “Sam, what happened?”

“It was nothing.”

“Don’t give me that “it was nothing” bullshit! I’ve never seen you freeze the way you did when you saw them, and I didn’t think Y/N could get that angry!” Tara took a deep breath and Sam shrank under her gaze. “You know I don’t judge you for whatever you did while you were gone, but the tension between you two was palpable. And you know the kind of tense shit I’ve seen.”

Sam swallowed, stuffing her hands into her back pockets and shifting her gaze to the floor. Tara waited patiently, and when she finally spoke, her voice was soft and shaking. “Let’s just say that when I knew Y/N, I was at a very bad point in my life. I did a lot of things that I regret. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“That’s not an explanation,” Tara said, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. “I have to work with them every day now, I think I deserve to know what happened!”

“But you don’t, though,” Sam said, finally meeting her eyes and sounding as tired as she felt. “You can be friends with them if you want, I don’t care, but what happened between us doesn’t concern you, Tara! You need to leave it alone.”

“Sam-”

“I’m going to bed,” she stated, turning around swiftly and cutting off Tara’s attempted apology. She shut her bedroom door without a backward glance and leaned against it, covering her face with her hands. She wouldn’t cry for you. She refused to give you that kind of power.

A few miles away, in your own second-floor apartment, you didn’t grant yourself the same respect.